Tribute to Ranjan Acharya

Last week after attending the funeral of one of my close relatives, I sat down to write on blog about the people who had made an impact on me.. The names came to my mind quite effortlessly and I chose to write only about the souls who are no more. Who was visible only to my mind’s eye? Funnily enough it was because of Ranjan, I started writing a blog.. Long time back after reading one of his articles published in Wipro Corp website ( I think after Dileep left , he had taken that mantle), when I asked him from where can I learn to write , he had replied that we can learn writing only by writing and asked me to start writing a journal everyday.. The reply mail also came with an anecdote on Bernard Shaw, who seemed to have written for more than 10 years before his first work was published.. I did take that advice and wrote for a few years in my journal. But I kept them hidden away from critiques, like kids hide peacock feathers in their notebooks.. After I had rejoined Wipro, I had shared my first blog with him and I had reminded him about his advice and Bernard Shaw anecdote.. Pat came the reply, Bernard Shaw can’t get it wrong, rite ?.
That was just one of the very few encounters (which were few and far between in last 13 years ) I had with Ranjan , after the really memorable first one in 1996 when I went to Lavelle road office for my HR interview to join erstwhile Wipro systems. I was supposed to meet one Gautam Sircar @ 10: 30 am.. But I was stuck in that famous lift and was saved well after 10: 30 am.. I came out blazing to meet my interviewer, tie in my hand, crumpled shirt in sweat and tears in my eyes. I think “Compassionate one “ was coming out of VC’s cabin and even though he was hurrying he did have time to spot me and help me out.. He took me to Gautam and asked him to take the interview after I had cooled down.. Maybe the compassion was contagious and Gautam just had a friendly chat with me for some time.. As I was walking out, I met him again. To his question of “whether I was selected or not”, I just replied I don’t know.. He just asked me to wait , went and asked that same question to Gautam and announced with that gracious smile, that I can collect my appt. order that day evening, from same office. As per his suggestion, I had my lunch @ Oasis, the mallu restaurant @ Church street and after the movie @ Galaxy, went and collected my appt. order. There it was signed Ranjan Acharya, General Manager. That was when I knew his name.
Much later, I had met him regarding Toastmaster club, NLP club@ Wipro etc.. But the best quote I remember was , when I went to him with a request to have my NLP Training session @ Wipro. Immly, he had called Kayo and Uma Sundaram and asked them to arrange one. When one of them was very subtlety expressing their doubt in my expertise in leading a session, he told them in his characteristic style that even a Govt. organization like IAF trusts their rookie pilots with those costly planes.. In Vishy’s case at least he has a safe copilot (Daniel Pacheco) to guide him.. And that was my first training session @ Wipro..
When I rejoined Wipro and went to meet him. He did not remember my name.. But did recognize me as the Toastmaster and exclaimed, “we Could start that club again”… I could sense that he was not doing well Health wise, but his Spirit was intact..
Last Saturday when I had met Joseph during the Mitr anniversary, I asked him about Ranjan. When he told me that he is not well, I never thought the end will come so fast.. May be the God wanted someone to start Leadership courses in Heaven.
In his stint he did live up to his name Ranjan - one who gladdens others heart and Acharya - One who practices what he preaches.

Lasting impressions of some remarkable lives from close quarters…

As our bus drove into Mannarkkad (which literally means Soil + rivers + forest) across the new bridge over Nellipuzha River, I felt the connection simply because I was born, raised and lived there for so many years. I was returning with my brother Sasi, to help our mother pack up and leave for Kollegal, the place she lived before she got married to my dad. Just some 24 hours had passed, since we attended the funeral @ Mysore of Raja mamma, one of local sons of soil.
Our neighbor @ Mannarkkad, who really is a well meaning lady , told me it may be really sad that my mother has to leave the place she loved and lived for more than 40 years. In her view it was sadder than Raja mama’s death. My mind failed to register the logic. Also I failed to convince her, that it hardly matters, since all of us will be bestowed with the opportunity to leave. Sooner or later.
I myself had left that place mentally, the moment my dear dad was buried, in probably the most scenic and beautiful burial ground in the world, adjoining the river he loved so much. When a local strong arm, tried to take over the tract of land which was owned by the small and dwindling Kannada speaking community, where generations of our ancestors were buried (and may be still sleeping listening to the hoary tunes of Kuntipuzha river), my father fought against him and ensured the place remained with us. Probably he was ensuring that greedy strangers with no values won’t encroach and disturb his very last slumber.
Having crossed so many tragic moments lately, it just seemed odd that this one would make any difference. But still i couldn’t quite put my finger on why it felt different. Maybe only, when someone known to you goes back to Mother Earth as basic elements, we steal some precious moments to step back and think what life means to us and more importantly what matters to us. Then it struck me that it was the people, who live still in my mind long after they are gone from here. It had nothing to do with the environment.
They weren’t many. I could count within my hands… They weren’t famous people in that sense of the word. When some of them died, only near and dear knew, wept and prayed for their souls.. Nevertheless they were really remarkable people, who led remarkable lives.

This is my homage to them..

I am not sure whether all of these impressions in my mind are captured thru my eyes and ears during my time with them. Some of them would have crept into my mind from the legends I have heard about them from others. It makes no difference to me. It should not, for you as well. Nothing is more malleable than reality. Life itself becomes the ultimate creative act, as you realize and become aware, that you are making your world from your own way of applying thoughts.


Let me start with the one whose untimely demise triggered this.
Infinite Grace. That is the way Rajamamma had lived and left this world. If grace is infinite, how could anyone be outside its boundaries? He reckoned, a mentally challenged but physically overgrown son of neighborhood tea stall owner as worthy of his mindshare and friendship in the same manner he had treated his wealthy friends, some of them who had inherited thousands of acres. His door was always open to the near and dear. His contagiously Ready smile and affectionate greeting welcomed us all at any point of time.
Always poised and balanced. I don’t remember seeing him hurried or harried. He put people at ease effortlessly.. And everyone was at ease at his presence... One who always dressed elegantly… Even for the last few months, when he was constrained to a wheel chair, one would not have found him with an unkempt beard, or shabby cloths.
More remarkable was the way he had faced his terminal illness.. He fought such a valiant battle against the crippling illness with such grace… May be he had decided, even when he had insufferable pains, he does not have to be one. Someone who cared for others in the most selfless manner.. Someone who thought about organizing a surprise birthday party to his wife from his wheel chair or trying to take care of my aged uncle who did not have many in his own family to look after him or trying to look for a suitable bridegroom for my sister in law…
He was a mentor par excellence for many in my generation and well wisher for many others. Personally I owe it to him for convincing me to stay back and complete my Engineering @ Hubli, finding me my life partner, teaching me that enjoying an evening drink is not a sin as long as I know my limits..And more importantly having shown fine and gracious way of living in the present for the future. Two incidents that readily comes up in my mind are the way he was quizzing my brother about getting Air-conditioning for the restaurant he was planning to start @ Mysore, while waiting for an appointment for Bypass surgery @ Narayana Hrudayalaya and the way he was looking forward to start card games from his wheel chair. For him the present moment is what really mattered and past was well left way behind where it belonged.
His positivity, generosity, kindness and the Great Spirit will outlive his death.
Neelakanta Doddappa
He was the first cousin of my dad… And probably one of the closest friends of my dad. I grew up on heady tales his brilliance and intellectual prowess.. Someone who could challenge World Bank consultants from Canada on the design of Arch dam @ Idukki.. One who could bring in innovative changes in hydro electric dam designs which could earn him an honorary membership of American Society of civil Engineers.. It is said that one the consultants had forwarded his brilliant ideas and that was good enough to earn him an honorary membership… If he was not afflicted with Parkinson disease at an pretty early age, I think he would have made much more impact in India like an E.M. Sreedharan. .. When I got an admission to Engineering, he presented me with a very old book on Metrics and measurement ( Originally written in German and translated to English) and he said , that is all one needs to know as an Engineer other than basic principles of things work.. It was quite amazing to see him solve problems from Integral calculus when his mind appeared to be free from the clutches of the disease.. Once I remember him telling my dad, that he finds it difficult to remember so many things including faces, except for Mathematics.. Last month when I had met my high school headmaster ( who was a classmate of Neelakanta Doddappa @ Intermediate), he told me if one person who could answer all the questions of a present day engineering entrances, probably it was Neelakantan.. Probably that compliment from a classmate after some 60 odd years says it all. I had lost the book he had presented to me. But one thing I retained was his signature.. I had designed my own signature after the one he had signed on that book. Of course his was more precise, and contoured to perfection like that Arch dam.
Gopalathatha
He was my favorite teacher who showed me the world of Jiddu Krishnamurthy, Frijit Capra and rationalism. My grandmother’s cousin, I had first seen him when he walked into attend his estranged brother’s funeral. I was told he had gone away from home after some misunderstanding and never returned to his home town for a very long time. Immly after he returned, the first thing he started was to open his free tuition centre. And soon my Dad ushered me and brother into his class. And I remained there for a very very long time till his death. A remarkable human being and teacher, who did not allow the tragedies of his own life (he had lost his wife very early and later in his life had to see his young son succumb to Leukemia) to distract or deter from his mission of imparting knowledge to many. One of early recipients of National Teacher Award ( For some reason he had hung his photo with Ms. Indira Gandhi to the corners of inner room ( may be after emergency), but he had proudly displayed the Brass peacock along with a note from one of his students just behind his seat), he stood out for his scholarly knowledge of English language, Literature, philosophy and economics.. Someone who lead his life like a disciplined Zen master’s, with pristine purity like his usual attire of white shirt and dhoti. What stuck to my mind forever, was his stoic expression even at his son’s funeral and his short and bland sentences which often conveyed much more than what he said. I felt he often kept a clinical distance between himself, his emotions and even his pain. My last memory of him was when I visited him at his hospital bed. He was diagnosed with cancer, which had spread throughout his body.. I had taken the small book of Siddhartha to read during my travel to the hospital in Perinthanmanna which was just one hour by road from Mannarkkad. He asked me to read a passage from it and as I was reading the passage about rebirth he stopped me . He told me about how Albert Camu, one of his favorite authors. Albert Camu died in a road accident and the great irony was he hated travelling by road and he had a train ticket to his destination in his pocket when he died. He just said thru his smile, that life is just like that. He was dead and gone within another week and I deliberately avoided attending his funeral. I just wanted to retain my last memory of him as it is.
Another person whom I wanted to write about was my dad, but then I think he has never gone away from me.. The kindest and most generous soul I have ever known was always there for me and I am sure he will be there forever..
I am not sure whether in Heaven they get to read blogs, or for that matter the existence of Heaven itself. I wish them well whole heartedly with immense gratitude.

whiz Kids : Percepts and Concepts

Recent appointment of Nandan Nilekani as head of UID project brought back the old clamoring of “Bring the professionals to Govt” which filled the pages of pink papers during the recent election run of Capt. Gopinath and Meera Sanyal. With due respect to one of the most celebrated Indian businessman of this generation, I would urge the reader to not to rush in taking sides and read the following passage.
In this context, it was quite interesting to read the havoc created by the foremost whiz kid in govt. of this era, Robert McNamara who died recently. McNamara was criticized for applying his abstract thinking to management of the Vietnam War, ignoring the human and moral elements of the conflict. It was said, "McNamara treated everybody like they were a spare part on a Ford".
In his later years McNamara sought to atone for his role, and advocated a rethinking of the US and UK nuclear posture, advocating nuclear disarmament. But it was too little too late. His grudging mea culpa was just not good enough for a generation who had known him as Bomber Bob whose great abilities in statistics just ensured more Japanese and Vietnamese deaths and maiming.
When William F Buckley said that he would rather be governed by the first 2000 people in the Boston Telephone directory than by two thousand Harvard Professors, he did have valid point.
As De Bono rightly said “Many highly intelligent people are poor thinkers. Many people of average intelligence are skilled thinkers. The power of a car is separate from the way the car is driven. One has to watch the movie Enron: the smartest people in the room to see this opinion at its extreme.
In much more moderated view a high powered IQ without the ability of empathetic perception is a sure recipe to disaster. High powered IQ will just take us faster to the brink. If the reams of papers have to be believed Nandan is someone who was blessed with equal amount of EQ to match his famed IQ.
I end my case with a great passage from Peter Drucker’s semi-autobiographical account “Adventures of a bystander”.
In the chapter titled “Ernest Freedberg’s World,” Drucker writes about two old-line merchants. The first of these, called “Uncle Henry” by those who knew him, was the founder and owner of a large and successful department store. When Drucker met him, he was already in his eighties. Uncle Henry was a businessman who did things by intuition more than by formal analysis, and his own son Irving, a Harvard B-School graduate, was appalled at “the unsystematic and unscientific way the store was being run.”
Drucker remembers his conversations with Uncle Henry. “He would tell stories constantly, always to do with a late consignment of ladies’ hats, or a shipment of mismatched umbrellas, or the notions counter. His stories would drive me up the wall. But gradually I learned to listen, at least with one ear. For surprisingly enough he always leaped to a generalization from the farrago of anecdotes and stocking sizes and color promotions in lieu of markdowns for mismatched umbrellas.”


Reflecting many years later, Drucker observes: “There are lots of people with grasshopper minds who can only go from one specific to another–from stockings to buttons, for instance, or from one experiment to another–and never get to the generalization and the concept. They are to be found among scientists as often as among merchants. But I have learned that the mind of the good merchant, as also of the good artist or good scientist, works the way Uncle Henry’s mind worked. It starts out with the most specific, the most concrete, and then reaches for the generalization.” Drucker also knew another leading merchant, Charles Kellstadt (who had once run Sears.) Kellstadt and Drucker served together on a Department of Defense advisory board (on procurement policy), and Kellstadt told “the same kind of stories Uncle Henry had told.” Drucker says that his fellow board members “suffered greatly from his interminable and apparently pointless anecdotes.”
On one occasion, a “whiz kid” (this was during the McNamara era) was presenting a proposal for a radically new approach to defense pricing policy. Kellstadt “began to tell a story of the bargain basement in the store in Chillicothe, Ohio, where he had held his first managerial job, and of some problem there with the cup sizes of women’s bras. He would stop every few sentences and ask the bewildered Assistant Secretary a question about bras, then goes on. Finally, the Assistant Secretary said, “You don’t understand Mr. Kellstadt; I’m talking about concepts.” “So am I,” said Charlie, quite indignant, and went on. Ten minutes later all of us on the board realized that he had demolished the entire proposal by showing us that it was far too complex, made far too many assumptions, and contains far too many ifs, buts, and whens.” After the meeting, another board member (dean of a major engineering school) said admiringly, “Charlie that was a virtuoso performance. But why did you have to drag in the cup sizes of the bras in your bargain basement forty years ago?” Drucker reports that Charlie was surprised by the question: “How else can I see a problem in my mind’s eye?”
From these two encounters, Drucker draws this conclusion:“Fifty years or more ago the Uncle Henry’s and the Charlie Kellstadts dominated; then it was necessary for Son Irvin to emphasize systems, principles, and abstractions. There was need to balance the overly perceptual with a little conceptual discipline. I still remember the sense of liberation during those years in London when I stumbled onto the then new Symbolical Logic (which I later taught a few times), with its safeguards against tautologies and false analogies, against generalizing from isolated events, that is, from anecdotes, and its tools of semantic rigor. But now we again need the Uncle Henrys and Charlie Kellstadts. We have gone much too far toward dependence on untested quantification, toward symmetrical and purely formal models, toward argument from postulates rather than from experience, and toward moving from abstraction to abstraction without once touching the solid ground of concreteness. We are in danger of forgetting what Plato taught at the very beginning of systematic analysis and thought in the West, in two of the most beautiful and moving of his Dialogues, the Phaedrus and the Krito…They teach us that experience without the test of logic is not “rhetoric” but chitchat, and that logic without the test of experience is not “logic” but absurdity. Now we need to learn again what Charlie Kellstadt meant when he said, “How else can I see a problem in my mind’s eye?””

Journey's with Kabir

 

Till now,  I was never much into  folk and Sufi music and  Documentary films..By being part of  Kabir Festival had changed that.

 It was one of the most  exhilarating experiences  of my life..  It was mix  of   classical music  and  some  Music  from “Wilderness”.. ( As one of the Artist  from Rajasthan  explained.)…  Even  as   an uninitiated layman  of  Music,  I could  say  that  in  Folk artist ‘s and Qawali   there was more life and  less of Music.  Probably they were not much worried about   the notes and swaras and layas…

The best  part of the  whole experience  was  the documentary film  Koi Sunta Hai ?   focused on  Kumar Gandharva.  Kumar Gandharva was recognised for his musical genius at the age of twelve when Pundit Deodhar  took him under his wings, later an unfortunate ailment of tuberculosis left him with just one lung.  For Ten  long years he could not sing, when  his  musical prowess at its peak..  He retreated  to Dewas , a place in  present day Madhya Pradesh.  It is said  that he regained his  health and passion for music after listening to  nirguna bhajans of Kabir   sung  by wanderers /beggars/monks.

 

PFB an article on journeys with Kabir ( published in Deccan Herald. )

 

 

Journeys with Kabir
Yamini Vijayan retraces Kabirs footsteps with Shabnam Virmani.
It still rings in my ears, that monotonous forced chanting that echoed through our classrooms, as we all recited Kabir’s dohas. We would mumble through our yawns, pinch each other while repeating them, almost meaninglessly. It would have never occurred to me then how far ahead of his times Kabir was. Was it because we were too young to understand then or were we not exposed to his powerful ideologies in the right manner? But why would we turn to a 15th century weaver, a mystic poet, so many centuries later, do we not have enough heroes of our time? Maybe because right now sentiments are brittle, divisive politics are being played out right in front of our eyes and it has become difficult to cling onto hope without turning away from injustice. Today, when communal tensions have managed to make daily headlines, it seems like an appropriate time to go back to Kabir’s beliefs. A champion of Hindu-Muslim unity, Kabir’s bold opposition to superstitious beliefs, empty ritualism and caste distinctions in religion has always made him stand out as a symbol of non-conformity. But today, when religion is being used manipulatively, for all the wrong reasons, Kabir’s remarkably secular voice returns, as a breath of fresh air. Last week, at multiple venues in Bangalore, a festival celebrating the ideas of Kabir — ‘Koi Sunta Hai’ — was organised through film screenings, seminars, discussions and live musical performances by folk, classical and Sufi singers. The director of the festival, documentary filmmaker Shabnam Virmani says, “The title of the festival draws on a phrase from a Kabir song that urges us to stop and listen. I hope in some small moment in this festival we will quieten down and allow ourselves to get nudged by Kabir away from dogma and self-righteous assertion towards listening with compassion and empathy.” Shabnam has been working on the Kabir project since 2002. Her project has taken the form of four films, a collection of music CDs and books with Kabir’s poetry, along with the translations. An artist in residence at the Srishti School of Art, Design and Technology, Bangalore, Shabnam feels that for her, Kabir has been a medium to find herself. So, what triggered her personal quest that led her to different parts of the country and even across borders in search of Kabir and his various manifestations? “There were many reasons. One of them was the Godhra riots. I was in Ahmedabad at the time. Also, I wanted to do something related to music, unadulterated music...,” she says. Shabnam’s set of four films — Journeys with Kabir —  zoom in on the lives of an urban folklorist, a social activist, a Zen Buddhist scholar, a Dalit folk singer, a Muslim qawwal, a neo-fascist cleric of a Kabir sect — each of them bringing us closer to the revelation that there is no single Kabir, but instead, that he takes on different forms. But her films go far beyond the confines of personal lives of those who have found meaning in Kabir’s philosophy, spilling over into socio-political issues, delving into the core of Hindu-Muslim politics and the concept of man-made boundaries. Shabnam also travels to Pakistan, only to discover that Kabir has touched lives even across borders. As she journeys with Kabir singers, stumbling upon revelations, old and new, it is likely that we find ourselves travelling alongside, engrossed in Kabir’s verses. The Kabir festival that was organised brought together musicians from diverse backgrounds into shared performance spaces, initiating dialogue and cross-cultural collaborations. It also gave people an opportunity to understand Kabir through music, films and engage in his transformative poetry. At IIM, Bangalore, after the screening of her film, Had Anhad: Journeys with Ram and Kabir, a visibly stirred audience asked her how her six-year-long project had affected her. “I seem to be lapsing into clichés, but it’s been a joyous journey, a transformative experience,” she says, breaking into a wide sincere smile. Shabnam is also a Kabir singer. Have you always been a singer, I ask her. “I have always been fond of music. But it is the democratic ethos of the folk singers and the nasha of being on the road with these singers that inspired me to take to music.” A man from the audience walked up to Shabnam before he left and asked her how she had managed to find all the singers in her films. “You sniff them out. I used to be a journalist,” she replied. The Kabir project is a way of finding beautiful, powerful voices and helping them strengthen it. “There is so much darkness anyway,” as Shabnam puts it. Hopefully, many of us would draw inspiration from Shabnam’s journey, as she urges us to travel more, read Kabir’s poetry, listen to Kabir’s music and make links to our own lives. For more details, log on to http://www.kabirproject.org/

The Kabir Project

      I have watched some of these documentaries thru NDTV last month… They were really good and captivating.  I am attaching the program schedule.    I  have  put in my calendar.  I recommend it quite highly...

Vishy 

The Kabir Festival is week long event, a festive yet critical immersion in the ideas of the 15th century mystic weaver poet Kabir, through a series of film screenings, live music concerts by folk, classical and Sufi singers from India and Pakistan, discussions, seminars, an exhibition and outreach events in colleges, institutions of higher education, socio-cultural and religious communities in and around, Bangalore.

The festival would be an opportunity for audiences to experience the joy of Kabir in song, while engaging with the radically transformative power of his poetry. It would offer a powerful encounter with the philosophy of Kabir, hopefully generating moments of critical self-awareness and reflection on ideas of cultural identity and social divisions, death and impermanence, oral traditions and the nature of knowledge. It would offer an opportunity for singers from diverse musical and cultural traditions in India and Pakistan to come together in one performative space and share and exchange notes on the oral traditions of Kabir that they represent.

Envisioned by filmmaker Shabnam Virmani (see http://www.kabirproject.org/), the event is an outcome of her experiences consisting of a series of musical journeys in quest of the socio-political and spiritual legacy of Kabir in our contemporary worlds.
This project has been supported by the Ford Foundation and resulted not only in the production of a series of films, music CDs and books, but also many relationships, workshops, festivals and social networks spun off by this 5-year journey.
A range of events are planned as part of this festival in satellite locations and a central venue. They revolve around the 4 recently completed feature-length musical documentaries and the presence of 7 fine singers of Kabir in our midst.

It is an open invitation!

Was Doing Time !

A few weeks back, when I had published   2 -3 blogs in a week, an esteemed colleague of mine, had told me that instead of Sunday Sambar, i should rename it as  everyday sambar. J .  Incidentally after that, I was hardpressed for time, i let  Sambar drop in my list of priorities. (Not becoz  of the  Everyday sambar comment.. I swear!) .  But  i should admit, it was quite nice  to receive a note from a good friend of mine, urging me not to convert this into a monthly sambar.  He told me in his kind words, that he was really looking forward to my   Sunday Sambar servings. So here i go again....

I was away for two weeks.  Was doing my time (literally).   Was attending my annual Vipassana course.  The only difference  from  a real prison,  here  we  were   volunteering  to  be IN  , to be free from  Outside World.   For almost 10 days..  No Blackberrys /Cell phones. No Emails… No TV. No FM.  No Newspapers.. No Reading material…   No Talking / Communicating in any other means.    Just imagine  you are  cutting yourself  from the outside world, when the latest   breaking news   was   Raju’s   (a)Satyam confession  and  South Africa’s  last innings  chase  of Aussie  total and ego  on  an even keel.

The program is rigorous to say the least. No participant is allowed to leave until the end of the course. All stimuli in the form of reading, writing and talking are forbidden. After a delicious vegetarian lunch at 11.30 a.m., there is nothing but tea and fruits at 5 p.m. And that's the easy part. It's the meditation that is grueling. Continuing virtually nonstop, save for a few breaks for food and rest, it calls for formidable levels of self-control and concentration.

What is Vipassana?

Vipassana in my opinion is the simplest meditation in the world.

“Vipassana is one of two main categories of Buddhist meditation, and means ''insight'' in the Pali language of the Buddhist texts. It is a kind of meditation, found in the Theravada tradition, that aims at an understanding of dukkha or ''suffering,'' anicca or ''impermanence,'' and anatta or ''not-self.'' The Theravada tradition is based on the teachings of Buddha as found in the earliest texts.


Buddhists in South and Southeast Asia practice this 2500-year-old tradition. Vipassana is also called ''Insight meditation'' because the purpose is to give the meditator an accurate understanding of the nature of reality. It helps us explore the deepest levels of the mind, and offers direct access into the spiritual realm without addressing deities or spirits.”  (Source unknown.)

 

Teachers?

This meditation approach was probably discovered by Gautama Buddha, 500 years before the birth of Christ. Although the practice of Vipassana faded for the most part after the seventh century, a Burmese businessman, S. N. Goenka, visited a monastery in the 1950s where it was still practiced by a small group of monks. He was so impressed with this meditation technique that he introduced Vipassana to prison inmates and helped spread the practice around the world. It was  quite pleasant  to meet Goenkas.  I had chosen the centre  next  Global Pagoda this time. And  Goenkaji  was there. Even though  he was not really doing well, Health wise, was  very gracious to meet us. He does not demand  ( Manasa Vacha  Karmana)  Guru like reverence from his Students.  I did feel the same kind of  respect and love  i had felt  towards  some of the teachers who taught me. (Devaki Teacher  ( My 1st std teacher)  who could manage  bunch of  50 odd brats with that benign smile, without ever needing Shouting or  Corporal punishment , Gopalakrishnan  Master ( my Grandpa's cousin  and who was my mentor  and tution teacher, who was a Gandhian , National award winning teacher ) , my headmaster Manimaster who stood out for  his knowledge and command of English language & , Dr. Richard Mchugh ( who taught me NLP))...... 

Why did I choose Vipassana?

Meditation always intrigued me and I have learnt a lot of techniques which I would practice on and off--with unsuccessful results. I don't know whether there was anything wrong with the methods; I probably didn't practice them correctly.  Or in some cases  I did not feel comfortable  being part of  a Cult / Guru Worshipping brigade.   In any case, I was not happy with my meditation and was looking for something else.

My search for something that does not violate my values did end with Vipassana.  The way of the Buddha is not a religion.  It has no belief system. No Dogma. I should add that  I did take my time on deciding to do this.Even after it was recommended   by Dr. Richard McHugh.

Should you do it?

I truly believe that all of us have a “door of change within ourselves”, which can be opened only from inside.

Let me end with a quote from Buddha “Don’t accept something: because you have heard it many times; because it has been believed traditionally for generation; because it is believed by a large number of people; because it is in accordance with your scriptures; because it seems logical; because it is in line with your own belies; because it is proclaimed by your teacher, who has an attractiveypersonality and for whom you have great respect.

Accept it only after you have realized it yourself at the experiential level and have found it to be wholesome and beneficial to one and all. Then, not only accept it but also live up to it. “  I have experienced it. I have accepted it and  i am going to live up to it. 

An Irish toast in this new year eve.. Till we meet again.

What is the one quality God has given us, in order to not only endure & survive all the troubles of this current world(Terror, Stock market crash, Madoff, recession, global warming etc), but also thrive and enjoy our life ?

Is it our capacity to hope?  Is it our ability to put the entire burden on God thru prayers?

I think it is the sense of humor. If you care to notice, all the races which has undergone persecution at the hand of fellow human beings in history (Jews, Sikhs or Irish) seemed have developed this quality in abundance. Ability to laugh at them and at the world and then move on enjoy life.

 

On this new year eve, I wish to raise this Irish Toast to each one of you, whose paths may have crisscrossed mine during 2008..( or may again in coming years J )

 

May you live as long as you want and

Never want as long as you live.

May you be in heaven a full hour
before the devil knows you are dead.

 

May your heart be light and happy,
May your smile be big and wide,
and may your pockets always have
a coin or two inside!

 

Always remember to forget
the troubles that passed away.
But never forget to remember
the blessings that come each day.

 

May you always have a clean shirt, a clear conscience,

and enough coins in your pocket to buy a pint!

 

May neighbors respect you, Trouble neglect you,
the angels protect you, And heaven accept you.

 

May you have the hindsight to know where you've been,

the foresight to know where you are going,
and the insight to know when you have gone too far.

 

May misfortune follow you the rest of your life,

and never catch up.

 

May your mornings bring joy
and your evenings bring peace...
May your troubles grow less
as your blessings increase!

 

May you get all your wishes but one,
so that you will always have something to strive for.

Till we meet again, Godspeed … 

Footnote: Probably my liking of Irish is a direct result of knowing Dr. Richard McHugh. I consider quite fortunate to be a student of this venerable NLP guru. His attitude to life, fortitude & dignified bearing was really striking.  He seemed to have more Indianess than many of us.  A man of incredible energy even in his late 70s, which he attributes to disciplined living and awareness, he is also Jesuit Priest (Infact someone who spoke about Buddha, Vipassana and Demello with equal élan.) It was quite amazing that he could hold the interest of motley crowd for more than 4 weeks.   While he taught NLP techniques, subconsciously he directed many of us towards Demello, Vipassana and Spirituality. He travels around the world teaching NLP and lives out of two small suitcases. And absolutely carry no other baggage including saint hood. (Literally!). May he spend many more years in this wonderful world spreading goodness.