An Alchemist's Blog

I have a dream

I, too, have a dream. My dream is that every Muslim in Kashmir, Hyderabad and Junagadh stands up and folds their hands, looks westward and says, "I am happy where I am. In the country in which I am. In the place where I live and belong. I want no more freedom than what my Hindu brothers and sisters seek. Freedom from poverty and debilitating ills, yes. But I have the freedoms i need in terms of speech, religion and ideology. I need no more freedoms sought for me by you, my saviours, my freedom fighters. I beg you to leave me alone and let me live my life in peace."

If the jihadis hear this prayer, i hope they will listen. I dream they will stop the fight for someone else's freedom, from their perceived ills. I hope the Hindus will join in this prayer with folded hands and beg the jihadis not to separate their brothers and sisters from this, their country. This land is for all who live here.

I dream there is no concept of majority-minority. I dream we elect a so-called minority man or woman who has what it takes to lead our country.  I dream we anoint an Obama-esque leader. If we imagine our country electing a Minority man or woman as our prime minister then we will know what America has truly achieved. But the man or woman must be educated, incorruptible, stand on his or her own principles, must not be propped up because of their so-called dis-possessed status, indeed must have charisma, charm and intellect for all to see and feel.

America took 150 years to do what they did, to free themselves from the feelings of comunalism, or in their case, more accurately, racism. But the essential issues of both are the same. What do we need to do this? We need to teach the people to make wise choices, to take their own decisions. We need educated and empowered people. We need educated voters. We, too, need training camps. Where people are taught self reliance and tolerance towards each other. We need people who indeed care for themselves and their country.

When Martin Luther King dreamt it was 28th Aug, 1963, a hundred years after the emancipation of black American slaves. And Obama comes to power in 2009. We achieved freedom in 1947. I dream it will not take over a 100 years before some man or woman, any man or woman, from any caste, religion or region dreams his or her dream - a dream of equality of opportunity. In my mind, that is what my country should be.

yogAnalogy

Yoga or yog is so many things. Yog is union, yog is oneness. It is self discovery, it is amalgamation, Yog is mindfulness, it is no-mind. It is everything. It is the ultimate. It is not phyisical exercise. It is not fitness. It is all-encompassing. In trying to understand yog, i offer a few analogies that shed light on the concept of yog.

A simple analogy: we are a balloon. We hold within us our pure energy. Yog is the practice that pricks that balloon, that makes us dissolve and become one with the rest. It involves sublimating our body, our mind, our emotions, our ego. All these are balloons within balloons, if you like, that hold us captive. Yog is the timed-release from these successively.

Another rich analogy: we live our life like a flowing river. The flow is fast and furious at the begining of life. It is energetic and passionate in it's rush to achieve the end, whatever that may be. In the process we bruise our banks and remove soil or silt from there. Through a process of churning the silt comes to settle within us, in the centre of the flowing river and an island starts to form. The silt solidifies and takes on a larger form. The island then dominates the river. People point and say, "See that massive island?" They forget the sluggish water around the island that was once a virgin force. In certain cases the island becomes so large, it hinders the flow of the river itself. Yog dissolves this island, bit by bit. It removes the block, makes us flow again.

This is Yog.

I acknowledge my teacher, Prasad Rangnekar for teaching me yog in it's totality and attribute the above analogies to his wisdom.

One week later

What happened at the Gateway of India in Mumbai last night, one week after the attacks was called by various names - some timid, some aggressive - a citizen's vigil, a prayer meeting, a rally and finally even a movement. These are the terms that people gave to the gathering on Wednesday night at the Gateway of India depending on their own expectations and the notion they carried about why they were there. It was entirely of the people, by the people and for the people. That is why i, personally, call it a March. I associate a March with a spontaneous need to redress something, lay down demands, voicing them loudly and clearly and finally having a military quality. The march yesterday met most of these requirements.

The moods went from sombre to angry to disrespectful to downright rude and ugly. This was expected, but the target was not the terrorists as much as the politicians. The language of the banner ruled as everyone read what the other had to say. And there was a lot of 'talk' going on. 'Terrorists brought RDX, Deshmukh brought RGV', said one. Another said, 'Terror came by boat, politician came by vote'. The ingenuity of the slogans brought a smile to the lips, even as the black humour tugged at the heart.

It was definitely an out-pouring. The junta wanted a podium. It was all the energy pent up inside that came out. Everyone was out there to speak out and add to the collective voice. They came from far and near. Roads, trains and buses for miles around Gateway were jam-packed from early afternoon until late night. They were of all ages and from all walks of life. There were all religions there. Essentially, it was quintessential Mumbai in all it's hues. If Raj Thackeray wanted a quick sample survey of who Mumbai really is, he should have been there. And he was invited to do so, by many of the posters. 'Where is Raj Thackeray?' several there wanted to know.

It was a young crowd, hitherto unconcerned with politics and happenings. And once again one felt the reason they had to come was because they had seen with their own eyes all that had happened. The media had brought to their homes all the events in their details and as they unfolded. Without coverage, the people would not have come pouring into the street the way they did. If the media woke up our gentle giants - the youth of our country, so much the better. Hopefully they are not cynical and still feel they can and will make a difference. Media's role is definitely to awaken people and it cannot be held responsible for how this awakening is taken forward. To say they should not have said this or micro-analyse that, is not right. Let us remember we are all humans trying our best. If the media knew everything, they would be God. Let them be, for heaven's sake. They filled a void that the country's politics and gundas left within us.

Taking forward the thought of the people needing a podium, i suggest we set up a corner at the Gateway, a fitting venue for such events going forward, for people to speak. Though I hate comparisons with other countries, let us develop a Hyde-Park style area where citizens can stand up and talk straight from their hearts. Let them organise their movements from here. Let powerfuls like Nana Chudasama and Anil Dharker and their likes who were all there yesterday, use their clout to commandeer an area for the soap-box. Let it be perfectly legal and safe to call a public meeting by any ordinary citizen there. Let the people through a simple application to Colaba police station ask for police protection if they think it will be necessary during such talks. It is our right to speech. Much stronger than the lame and much hyped right to information.

Unlike rallies and political mumbo-jumbo, let the people have a chance to speak. The public will decide and will weed out the grain from the chaff themselves. Don't worry about those who will abuse this, for they will be abused themselves. The people know. Let us have faith in them and indeed in oursleves. The voices have to continue. They will be the only ones to save the country from the terrorists within and without.

If you agree, forward this thought to your friends. Do it in your own words and with ownership. But please don't let the momentum built up turn to a trickle. Be a karmayogi as our Gita tells us. I felt it was my duty to say what I have. I hope you find something that you consider your duty and do it.

What if?

It was Monday and seemed a perfect day to turn the page on the events of last week in Mumbai. At least to go through a normal day of work. I picked up a sheaf of papers to respond to. The first was a credit card bill for Ajay and the entires read as follows:

Nov 6. Sea Lounge, Taj, Mumbai Rs. xxx

Nov 12. Four Seasons Hotel, Mumbai Rs. xxxx

and so on. Once again, my mind harked back to what had happened and what may have been. It seemed impossible to find a diversion from the events in Mumbai starting last Wednesday night, and anything I did could be connected to them.

Ajay had been at the Oberoi until 6.30pm on Wednesday attending a seminar. Details of how the guest speaker at the event who was staying at the hotel managed to escape have just come in. It was nothing short of a miracle. But everyone was not lucky to have left just before and even if they were there to have walked out safely.

Some of us order room service, while others visit the restaurant to enjoy the atmosphere or the view or to chat with the waiters even if we are dining alone. Some of us retire early, especially if we are tired or jet-lagged. Others arrive at 10 pm for dinner with friends and order a round of drinks just as some unexpected guests barge in. Some of us have the presence on mind to wrap a wet towel around our nose and walk down 16 floors to safety, while other just asphyxiate on the fumes.

Ever thought why things happen in this way. Why some people are just at the wrong place at the wrong time and others not. That is the question that has been troubling me ever since and the chilling thoughts of what if...?

I guess i'll just have to wait until tomorrow to feel 'normal' again.