2013

`Khalwat` is a beautiful word. I had heard it sometimes but its real meaning eluded me till I went for an art exhibition and found this amazing definition describing the work space and life philosophy of artist Nasreen Mohammedi.

“Her art practice became her way of life, each inseparable from the other. The bareness of her studio resembled a Sufis “Khalwat”, a place for inner retreat meant for solitude, preparedness and emptying out of ones centre to become a receptacle of pure thought and light of knowledge.

Like the Sufis and Zen Buddhists, the artist practised the art of grasping the `barest form` of existence. A clear physical and mind space was a perquisite to her creative work that sharpened her powers of concentration and silent reflection.

The empty mind/

Receives/

Drain it/

Squeeze it/

Hard/

So that it receives/

The Sun…

She took one last look in the mirror to make sure her hair was in place, smiled and turned to leave. I observed her immaculate attire. Everything was matching to perfection. There was nothing in her demeanour to suggest that she was headed to the hospital. A new day had to be accorded the respect it deserved, she always maintained.

We were driven to the nursing home where mother was to have a small procedure to check the working of her heart. Palpitations some days back had got everyone worried.  While the cardiologist was optimistic, so was mom. I`ll be back in ten minutes and we`ll have a hot coffee together, she assured me as she was wheeled to the OT. We clicked some pictures of her in the smartly tailored hospital outfit. She liked the style and might get some night suits stitched when she got back home.

My mother has been a walker most of her adult life, an independent walker, one who depends on no one for company but herself. She has scant regard for weather or season. Be it peak winter, summer or rains, she can be spotted somewhere on the road, post 5 am, humming her prayers, smiling at fellow walkers, a hello here and a Namaste there.

She even pauses to ask the regular beggars outside the temple as to how they are faring, paying for their tea occasionally. She loves the way her day begins and how she welcomes it. The silence and the bird songs both enthral her in equal measure. She is a true lover of life, one who celebrates every moment with warmth and smiles.

The ten minute wait at the nursing home soon turns to two hours. News trickles out from the Operation Theatre that two major arteries are blocked and stenting is in progress. This is a complete shock for everyone. The morning is not rosy any longer. Everyone waiting for her can sense the tension in the room. She would have hated this atmosphere, I remember thinking. She, who loved joy and lightness of spirit over anything remotely serious.

Two painful days in ICU and mother’s back in the room. All the curtains are pulled back so that she can see the trees and relish the rain drenching them. Her only question to the doctor is regarding her discharge. As the last canulla is removed from her horribly punctured arms, she is eager to wear her freshly laundered clothes and head out, she takes a step out and then turns to me, she gives me a tight hug and says, “Thank you for being there for me. I have to greet a brand new day with a brand new heart. Do you have a lipstick on you?”

“Go lightly, simply….Just go, and follow the flowing moment. Try not to cling to any experience. The depths of wonder open of themselves.” Frederic Lehrman

Its four o`clock in the morning. We are prowling around like alley cats, getting our gear together and sneaking out of the house with stealth befitting a seasoned burglar. We need to get on to the road. This trip is scheduled for a time before the world stirs and adds its white noise to the beautiful and spiritual silence of the morning. As planned, we hit the quiet grey roads with our cycles when it is still dark.

Our route takes us off the main road and into the smaller village paths. Before long we are confronting acres, if not miles of open fields. Fields that are ripe with wheat, the fragrance of which is permeating the fresh air that we are breathing greedily.

The indigo blue sky darkens as an enormous clutch of crows takes to the air quietly. I have never seen anything like this ever before. It`s an unusual sight.

Silent crows, an oxymoron like no other! The picture of the wheat field now glowing with a dull gold light and the backdrop of a slowly lightening sky with a profusion of large black birds reminds me of Van Gogh`s, “Wheatfield with Crows”. Landscapes such as these should be committed to memory, if one is lucky enough to see them…
We cross sleepy villages just stirring to life. The simple Gurudwara we cross is well into its prayers and its soft soothing words envelope us like a protective cape as we pedal away. Immortal words, recited with a mellifluous voice, giving hope and faith to all those who hear them. Our meanderings take us into the villages. The smell of cow dung and Earth, again, timeless, greets us. If there is a fragrance associated with simplicity, it would be found in our villages. People here routinely invite us to stop for some tea.

We finally do break our journey and promptly manjis are brought out to accommodate all of us. Fresh sugar cane is chopped and laid out. Little grand-children are brought out and introduced to us proudly. They look healthy and beautiful. Our tea arrives and it has never tasted better than it does here, under the trees, surrounded by wheat fields, gushing tube wells and genuine human warmth. We chat for a long time. It’s so easy to communicate with each other when smiles are aplenty. Before we leave, a doctor in our group hands out his calling card and invites our hosts to visit his clinic for free check-ups and consultation, should they ever need one. The offer is taken up with gratitude. They give us their cell numbers too, inviting us to partake of their hospitality anytime we are here.

Soon, we are on our way. The sun has risen and is beating down mercilessly. Yet, there is a cool breeze that keeps wiping off our sweat. I come away thinking about the perfect existence of a parallel world.

A quote by Pam Brown on Travelling, comes to mind,

“You will bring back a sheaf of photographs. But you will bring back more. A vision of a wider world.. Remembered laughter… New understanding…”

This article is written by a Seventeen year boy, I thought it was worth sharing 🙂 On the Prize Giving Ceremony weekend I went for a night out expecting to meet my Grandmother at the English Book Depot, sitting behind the desk, with her radiance and that beautiful smile. Instead, my parents took me to a hospital nearby, where my Dadi had been admitted and diagnosed with a severe stomach infection. I was stunned, to say the least. So there I sat, in the clinic where, ironically, I was born, next to my ill grandmother, who, even more ironically, had given me the name “Madhav” in that place more than 17 years ago.  One second she was up and about, and the next she was in the hospital, on a drip. The ephemeral nature of life and time really stunned me. There are some people in everyone’s life that they can’t do without. They’re like the sun and the stars: things which you couldn’t do without but took for granted because of their constant presence. During my time in the ward, a few things crossed my mind. Everything you achieve, at this stage all the appointments and awards you’ve received, and later in life all the bonuses and promotions, they won’t matter if you have no one to celebrate it with.

Your friends and family, they form the most important part of your life. They’re the context: they’re the background music which gives the song that is your life that added dimension. Be virtuous. My grandmother is 73 years old. She works 10 hour a day shifts, seven days a week. Fortunately, she was discharged a few days after this incident, but even before I could thank god for her speedy recovery, she was already heading back to the shop, eager to work. Make work your virtue. Last year’s captain Yuv had put it very eloquently, he talked about how everyone should find that one thing that they enjoy doing, and do it to the fullest. Each and every person should have that one thing that sets them apart: that defines them. Find something enjoyable and productive, something that makes you feel elated and at peace. Find that definition, because once you do, no one can stop you from achieving your dreams. There is never enough time. Ask any of my form-mates, and they’ll tell you about how their time in School just flew by.  It is going to be the same in college, and then your first job, and after that your last one! School is the place where you can try your hand at anything you’ve wanted to, and everything you wouldn’t be able to do elsewhere. Don’t procrastinate, because every time you say “I’ll do that later” or “Maybe next week”, there will be less time on your hands to do it. Have fun. It shouldn’t always be about work. Everyone deserves some time off. By no means am I saying that life should be one big party, all I’m saying is that relaxation is a necessity: it calms your mind and helps you gather your thoughts. In a busy school life such as ours, the occasional Sunday private or the random quadrangle cricket match can work wonders! Make mistakes. Picasso once said that “Every child is an artist”. Artists are creative personalities. Kids, they’re never afraid to go wrong. They haven’t been molded by society, what is a mistake to us, might seem perfectly right to them. Juniors should explore and experiment, and seniors should inculcate and implement. That’s how school should work.Lastly, always be grateful. Call your parents and relatives; thank them for everything they’ve done for you. Talk to your best friend, make him feel wanted, and he will definitely do the same for you. Talk to your worst enemy, and make amends. Care for every single person you know, pray that they’ll live a long and healthy life, and hope that they’ll stay with you forever…