Divinity is Real Beauty!

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s beautiful of ‘em all?”

Gone are the days when people used to ask this question. Now, it is fairly common for us to ask – “Mirror, mirror on the wall, am I beautiful at all?”

While the mirror does not lie, it shows only the visible aspect of a person’s beauty – the physical attributes.

As we remain entangled in trivial debates – wavy versus curly hair, royal versus crooked nose, flat versus heavy bosom, and so on – a large part of our beauty consciousness, which is non-physical, lies dormant unknown to ourselves.

In the wild obsession with the outer, we tend to become progressively ignorant of the inner. The seat of real beauty is the soul – the essence of your divinity and your connection with the Creative force within you.

“Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty, that is all Ye know on Earth, and all Ye need to Know”, English poet John Keats wrote in one of his famous poems. The Sanskrit verse –’Satyam Shivam Sundaram’ – too express the notion that Truth is divinity and divinity is beauty.

To be true to one’s body and accept it as a creative masterpiece, and to be true to oneself as an individual capable of being a magnet of love and compassion – can be an inclusive and democratic definition of beauty. Instead of seeing beauty as a reflection of one’s color, height, social status or economic potential, we should be able to see beauty as a makeover of our minds and hearts.

While every human may not have fashionable physical features and the media-projected attractiveness quotient, each one of us can cultivate the divine attributes that truly make us ‘humane’ and irresistibly charming to people in our lives.

Would we want our children to hold on to the time-tested value of love and gratitude for this priceless body or rather have them subject their bodies to the ever-changing social stereotypes of beauty? After all, a positive and healthy attitude to life does not have to mean ‘size zero’ and ‘six-pack abs’.

Beyond the botox foreheads, silicon breasts and tummy tucks lie the innocence and simplicity of graceful acceptance of who we are. Who wouldn’t be attracted to a sparkle in the eye, a wide-toothed smile, a chuckle in the voice and a heart that beats with love and joy?

“A thing of beauty is joy forever”, remarked a poet. Taking creative liberty, one may add, “An old man, young at heart, is boy forever”.

Real beauty can be about honoring and celebrating everyone as they really are – unique and resplendent creations of a perfect Creator. The first and the foremost benefactor of this appreciation should be the most important person in your life – YOU!

Then, you will find a sweet voice whispering within, “I’m the Mirror in your heart, and you’re an ever-beautiful work of art!”

Fly Away You S#%&#!

Who would have imagined that the world would soon see a disease whose name itself would be quite a mouthful? And that too mouthful of a curse.
 

Enter Swine Flu!

Wonder who coined the word ‘Flu’! Sounds like a jet plane flying around at will, and landing itself unannounced at unwelcome destinations.

Sometimes the name of an ailment itself is enough to send shivers in the hearts and minds of people.  Why call diseases as Malaria, Cancer, Rabies, etc.? Why not make a list of diseases worldwide, and assign them harmless codes such as  A1, B1, etc. Atleast, they won’t sound as fatal as they actually are.

Coming to Swine Flu, quarantining people enmasse may be back into fashion. Our computer anti-virus programs are experts in doing that, but when it comes to human beings, it is as good as imprisonment. Imagine an outlandish news headline like – “PM jailed to avoid infecting Parliament”!

Things will get bizarre if this new air-borne invader into our immune system ends up creating a new bazaar for preventive masks. Yes, masks that would soon mask out one’s identity. People would be recognized by their signature masks, rather than their faces. For those who love variety, there would be night-wear and party-wear designer masks as well.

Not to mention, a big opportunity for pharma companies to come up with another well-marketed, yet ineffectual drug.

Just for today, go out and take a breath of fresh air, or maybe bottle up some of it. Who knows, breathing freely might become a luxury one day!

Pigeon Diaries Finale

I had washed some clothes and wanted to put them up for drying in the balcony. So, I had to deliberately shoo Pikoo and Bannu away. 

I also noticed that the pigeons had been using my balcony as an excretion ground. I had to spend ten minutes just scraping off their dried out excreta that had stuck to the balcony floor. 

In 17th century Europe, pigeon poop was a highly-prized fertilizer; it was considered to be far more potent than farm-yard manure.  So valuable that armed guards were stationed at the entrances to pigeon-houses to stop thieves from stealing it. Not only this, in the 16th century England, pigeon poop was the only known source of saltpetre, an essential ingredient in gunpowder, and thus a dear commodity. With so much excreta around, I could have been a billionaire of those days.

Atleast, now I also had a ‘solid’ reason not to allow any pigeon to perch on my balcony. Suprisingly, for the next few days, none did. Nevertheless, sparrows have become regular visitors to my balcony. Every morning, my alarm goes off at 6 am. I turn the alarm off and again hit the bed. But around 7 am, I can listen to the constant chirping of sparrows that serves me the second reminder to get up. 

Every now or then, some sparrow comes to the balcony. It does not stick around for more than a minute. Either it hurriedly gulps dried out grains of rice that it has broken from a plate of rice I had kept, or makes a crying call to some other distant sparrow, and flies away in haste. Sometimes, a group of sparrows decide to visit the balcony, make frequent chirping calls and fly off suddenly. That’s why I have been unable to name and follow a sparrow.

Yesterday evening, a new pigeon with a huge body and unusually long, pointed and pinkish claws perched on my balcony grill. I opened the windows and tried to shoo it away, but it did not go. I opened the windows from the other side and tried to reach it, but the pigeon was unafraid. I tried to bang the window, but the banging sound did not make it budge. Luck favours the brave, so I have decided to let it spend the night on balcony.

Maybe this was a messenger sent by Pikoo and his family to tell me that they have migrated elsewhere. I will miss Pikoo, but wish that someday this peerless pigeon might like to use the earth’s magnetic field to navigate back to my balcony. 

Till then, I am happy to bob my head like a pigeon, and sing ‘Coo roo-Ctoo-Coo’.  

Bird watching…naaa!

Pigeon Diaries IV: Bannu Calling

For the past few days, a strange phenomenon is happening. 

Pikoo and his family spend more time in my balcony than anywhere else. Earlier they used to fly away when I tried to get near the sliding windows of the balcony. Nowadays, no matter how close I get to the windows, the birds remain unruffled.

Several times, I have created a big, wide opening by sliding all the three windows to one extreme corner. This opening can allow them to easily fly into the living room of the house. However, they don’t come inside. 

Oddly, they are far less scared even when I make eye contact with them. Is it the beginning of a bird-human symbiotic relationship?

Nowadays, Pikoo and another young pigeon, whom I fondly call ‘Bannu’, spend their nights on the topmost grill of the balcony. Bannu is extremely clever. Everyday, she occupies the rightmost corner of the topmost grill on a first-come-first-serve basis. Since, Pikoo comes a bit late, he has no choice but to take the leftmost corner. This does not happen without a mock fight.

Pikoo and Bannu sit opposite to each other and extend one of their wings on a full stretch to push the other one away. This is akin to two samurai warriors displaying a game of swordsmanship on a tightrope.

Then, they try to flap their wings at each other animatedly for a few minutes. Eventually they stop. Evidence shows that Bannu has maintained the coveted ‘rightmost’ position on the topmost grill for two consecutive nights. Such is love.

Another peculiar thing I have noticed is that pigeons sleep in the night, standing on only one of their feet. They draw back the other foot close up to their body, so much so that it appears that this foot has somewhat disappeared. They curl up with beak close to chin and eyes closed – completely still.

No wonder, Charles Darwin used pigeons to formulate his famed Theory of Evolution.

Pigeon Diaries III: Pintoo Struggles

I sometimes chuckle at dumb birds, especially if it happens to be a pigeon.

Mind you, pigeons are considered to be one of the most intelligent birds on the planet. The pigeon can recognize all 26 letters of the English alphabet. The pigeon can also pass the ‘mirror test’ (being able to recognize its reflection in a mirror). It is one of the only 6 species, and the only non-mammal, to possess this ability.

Well, I don’t know whether this particular pigeon was really a no-brainer or just feigning ignorance. The pigeon had purposefully or mistakenly slipped inside the living room. Perhaps, this was when I was in another room.

On closer look, he seemed to be Pintoo, Pikoo’s younger brother. As I came back to the living room, I saw him struggling to get out through the gap created by the sliding windows.

Infact, only the rightmost of the three windowpanes was open. Pintoo ambled upto the leftmost window, tried to go out, but hit the windowpane. He repeated the same movement again and again – left pane and middle pane, left and middle, and so on. Everytime he collided with the windowpane.

Somehow, Pintoo never tried to move just an inch to the right of the middle windowpane. Here the entire right window had been pushed back to create a big opening. Perhaps, the poor pigeon had assumed that opening to be a windowpane, and never tried to approach it.

Even I did not try to help. A confused pigeon in trying circumstances might react irrationally to human intervention.

After much struggle, the pigeon did hit its Eureka! It found the opening.

Pigeon Diaries II: Missing Pikoo

One night, Pikoo stayed on the balcony. I know this because when I woke up at 4 am to answer nature’s call, he was still there – huddled up in a corner. Motionless!

The very next morning, surprisingly, Pikoo was not there to be seen. Did Noah take him away in his Ark?

The evening of the same day, three pigeons were back on the balcony. Jolly good, one of them was Pikoo.

He looked alert. I saw Pina poking her beak on Pikoo and some fluidy substance dropped down. This time around Pikoo was making short practise flights here and there. Then two more pigeons joined in the hop-fly-hop routine. After spending some time, they all left the balcony. Through my own unbelieving eyes i saw Pikoo’s final flight of the day.

‘The I Do Not Want To Fly’ Pigeon had found his rhythm back. Did someone hire him again as a messenger? Goodbye Pikoo!

I have just removed the bowl of water and rice plate from the balcony. The rice is taken. For some mornings, some sparrows have been kind enough to partake of the rice. The bowl of water is dirty.

Perhaps, the pigeons are looking for an opportunity is to make a nest in my house. Many times, i have caught some unassuming pigeon or the other sneak through the half-openings created by the sliding windows of the balcony. The sound created by the clapping of hands have had been enough to make them fly away.

Once, while coming out of the bathroom, I heard some noises in the dark space just above the bathroom door. As I peeped my head through the door, a pigeon brushed past my head, took a swift right turn and disappeared quickly out of the gap created by the sliding windows. I marveled at the quickness of the bird’s response.

Could it have been the quick-dove Pikoo? Did he miss me as much?

Pigeon Diaries I: Meeting Pikoo

  

 

 

He sits, shits and hits here...

 

I normally don’t go bird watching.

There are better things to watch. There are better things to waste time on. However, my ornithological tendencies get the better of me sometimes.

Usually, it happens when any feathered friend comes visiting, and stays on. Unimaginable things can happen when pigeons arrive, that too without appointment. And with pigeons, it is like this – if you have seen one, you have seen them all. But, Pikoo is different.

Birdies and Gentlehawks! Let me introduce you to Pikoo ‘The I Do Not Want To Fly’ Pigeon.

Pikoo has been perching on my balcony since afternoon. It seems Pikoo has taken a sudden disinterest in flying. He looks far younger than most other pigeons. He is fat, but healthy fat.

Throughout human history, the poor pigeon has played many a role – from a symbol of gods to sacrificial victim, from messenger to pet, from food to even a war hero. Who knows what role Pikoo has chosen? 

Several pigeons have been visiting Pikoo on the balcony ever since. To the untrained eye, these may seem to be different visitors. However, they are actually the same set each time. They are Pikoo’s mother Pina, father Polu and brother Pintoo.

Polu and Pintoo never physically display their concerns to Pikoo. They perch a level higher to Pikoo, and seem to chide & scold him by their feverish cries. Pina always tries to snuggle upto Pikoo. To the onlooker, it may appear as if she is fighting with Pikoo. However, she is just poking her beak into Pikoo’s fluffy body to find out whether it pains at a particular spot. Pikoo, as usual, detests her attempt. But, he does not move at all. I guess the Pigeon Post evicted him from service. Unemployment can make one do strange things.

I had kept a bowl of water and handful of restaurant-cooked rice close to Pikoo’s stationary throne. He just glances back at me, without caring anything about the offering.

Perhaps, a cunning crow might have been more appreciative.

What’s In A Name

When Shakespeare writes “What’s in a name…”, let him be reminded that being called Sex-Peer or Shekoo won’t be much good for his appetite either!

People call me by nicknames aplenty – Venki, Vanki, Venky, Venke, Benki, Winky and what not…

Its also within my rights to pull their cheeks, pinch their stars, and ask – “My dear, when will you ever stop? I don’t relate to the names you call me. Grow up! Atleast i have grown up. If you had been in school with me, and had called me these names there, i might have tickled you pink for your cheerful misadventure.”

‘Venkatesh’ is not that long a name to slip off the edges of your mouth, is it? What’s more, ‘Venkatesh’ means the destruction of sins. It is also a synonym for Lord Vishnu. So, every time you repeat my name you get oh-so-divine vibrations and your over-credited Sin Account will also be much lighter. 
 

Else, you can always call me ‘Venkat’. Nice, short and meaningful. I respond the best to this name. And let me tell you it is also numerologically great for me.

Neither long nor short, i just don’t have this – the surname. Plain lucky! But i have an initial in front of my name – ‘P’. Though it stands for my father’s name, i use it to represent some of my cherised qualities – Power, Passion, Peace. Only if tradition had allowed mother’s name to be put as initial too, that would have made the name ‘SP Venkatesh’. Add to it the place of birth (Bhopal) and you have ’BSP Venkatesh’

I proud myself on being a South Indian who was born in Central India and now lives in North India. Finally, let me add the ultimate twist to my argument – ‘I am not my name’. Got that?

Once Upon A Prayer

After losing his late father’s fortune in the stock market, Sunny Singh had just enough money left to start a business.  A thorough research of the market showed him that only the liquor business was still profitable.

Though a teetotaler himself, Sunny went ahead to bid for tender for a liqour shop. Soon, the tender was announced in his favour and Sunny’s mother asked him to visit a Gurudwara to thank Waheguru for His blessings. Sunny shot back, “After what God did to us, i don’t believe in Him.”

The liquor shop started doing did great business. In very short time, Sunny recovered most of his money lost in the stock market. But, his real problems were about to start.

Right opposite his liquor shop was a Church where people gathered for weekly congregrations and mass sermons. Some of the people who visited the Church also headed over to Sunny’s shop to pick up some hard drinks.

Once it so happened, that one of the attendees drank a lot of liquor just before the assembly in the Church, and he fell unconscious on the ground. Andrew Gomes, the Church priest, was disturbed by this happening, and decided to cancel the sermon that day.

He went over to Sunny and requested, “Son, please close the shop in the name of God. I am sure you will earn even more in another business at another place.” Sunny simply smiled and cleverly pointed at a Church sign that said – ‘Let God take care of your problems. Let God’s will be done”.

Andrew got the hint and returned. He gathered his trusted people and instructed them to tell everyone to pray day and night with this on their lips – “O Merciful Lord! O Jesus! O Mother Mary! Kindly shower your grace on us and allow the liqour shop owner to move to a place worthy of the business he does.” All congregations and sermons in Church reverberated with this one prayer. Even a song got composed around this prayer that was sung every week at the end of the gathering.

When Sunny got to know of this, he shrugged, “If God listened to prayers, i would have still been in stocks and not here.”

Surprisingly, the prayers worked. One day, there was a short-circuit in the liquor shop. The shop caught fire and stock worth lakhs of rupees was destroyed. Things were charred beyond recognition. No person was hurt though. For the first time, Sunny drank liquor that night.

His mother scolded him, and chided him that this was the result of not believing in God. Although, Andrew and all the Church followers were happy, they did not display any outwards signs of celebration.

Krishna Raj, Sunny’s out-of-work lawyer friend, sensed an opportunity, and encouraged him to file a damage suit against the Church. Thus came to the District Court the very first case of its kind – Messrs Som Wines v/s Holy Church of Grace.

Sunny accused the Church of praying collectively to create this mishappening, thus forcing him to shut his shop. Andrew defended the Church saying that there was no connection between the prayers and the damage to the liquor shop.

The case dragged on for 6 months. By then, the media had spotted an interesting scoop. On the day of the final verdict, they approached Judge Ali Haider, who was presiding on the case.  

The Judge refused to divulge the judgement, but sharply commented, “Ironically, it seems that the shop owner believes in God and the might of prayer more than the Church does.”

Next day, the verdict came out in all the major newspapers as headlines, “Shop Stays, Church Cheers”.

It so happened that the two parties reached a compromise. Sunny agreed to drop the liquor license and instead start a fresh juice business from the same shop. The Church used its influence to get the license changed, and also collected money to help recover Sunny’s losses.

At the end of the whole drama, Maninder Kaur, Sunny’s mother, emerged the happiest, “Why not? Yesterday Sunny visited Gurudwara after a long time.”

Prayer To Motherland

As sweet bells chime in the temples of men
As lamps of insight ignite the asleep minds
As voices of victory chant the song of devotion
Let us invoke in our hearts
The loving remembrance of the eternal Motherland
Who is resplendent than thousand glittering suns
Whose face shines like the calm brilliance of the crescent
More beautiful than anything ever seen by the eye of the world
Mesmerizing the universe with the fragrance of her kindness
Playing the music of oneness that vibrates with the symphony of joy
Holding the sixty petalled lotus of freedom in her hands
Dressed in the saffron-hued garment coloured by the sacrifice of martyrs.

When the cries of human agony stir the sky
When the troubles of temptation nauseate the air
When the woes of collective amnesia rouse the ground
Let us initiate our minds with
The bright intellect pervading in the divine Motherland
Who is the ever-flowing fountainhead of knowledge
Whose lustrous mane envelops the shadows of darkness
More intelligent than any scripture crafted by the pen of wisdom
Gracing the earth with the purity of her presence
Dancing with finesse to shatter the dominion of fear
Bearing the trident that demolishes any trace of ignorance
Wearing the golden trinket polished by the brilliance of her disciples.

Once again as the clocks of time strike the magical hour
Once again when the stars of night twinkle their approval
Once again with the sounds of nightingales teasing the ear
Let us bow our souls
In reverence for the compassion of the blissful Motherland
Who is the glowing incarnation of almighty love 
Whose feet resemble the entire stretch of heaven 
More life giving than any god descended on the plane of existence
Enchanting the cosmos with the expanse of her energy 
Carving sculptures of immortality out of the stones of death
Blowing the conch of awakening with the breath of vitality
Adorned with the diamond necklace woven by the radiance of her children.

To that Mother of Mothers
To that Indian nation
To that limitless region
Let us give our everything
And pray for eternal life
In her transcendental womb!