Showing posts with label awareness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label awareness. Show all posts

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Kshatriya

Shivaji - one of the most remarkable Kshatriyas to walk the Earth.

It is a glorious story that everyone in Maharashtra knows very well. Over 350 years ago, on the slopes of Pratapgadh, the destiny of the Marathas stood on the edge of doom. It was the meeting of Shivaji, the fledgeling king of the Maratha rebels, and the gigantic Afzal Khan, the powerful and ruthless general of Bijapur. It was supposed to be a peaceful meeting, and Afzal Khan invited Shivaji into a friendly embrace. But even as he embraced him, he tightened his grip around the Maratha's neck, choking him, and tried to stab him in the back with a dagger. To his surprise, he encountered the chainmail that Shivaji had worn under his clothes. But he had no time to attack again. Shivaji had already torn open his belly with his own concealed weapon. Afzal Khan's bodyguard, Sayyad Banda rushed to defend his master. But before his sword could reach Shivaji, his arm had been chopped off by a swift blow from Shivaji's own bodyguard, Jiva Mahal. Within just a minute, the siege of Pratapgadh had essentially ended. The young Maratha king, who was to change the destiny of a nation, had survived.

There are thousands of minutes in a day and hundreds of days in a year. And hundreds of years have rolled by since that battle on the slopes of Pratapgadh. And yet, that one minute lives on in memory. Every blow that was struck, dodged or blocked within that one minute has been chronicled. That one minute has been enacted in plays and films and sung about in songs. And we still say "होता जिवा म्हणून वाचला शिवा" ("Shiva survived because Jiva was there"). How did the people who lived that minute experience it? What was Shivaji thinking then? What went through Jiva Mahal's mind as he stopped the blow that could have ended a dream? That has not been chronicled, but we can easily guess the answers to those questions. The answer is - absolutely nothing. If either of them had taken a moment to think at that time, the story would have been entirely different. That one minute was made glorious not because of great thoughts but because of the precise flash of a blade.

Mankind has been unfortunate enough to have gone through far too many wars. And every war has had its heroes - men and women who have done extraordinary things in the face of absolute peril. And yet, as far as I know, most of them have simply said that they were just doing what was necessary at that moment. We think of a hero as being very courageous, as someone who conquers his fear and does something difficult. But the fact is that being courageous in such situations does not involve conquering one's fear. It simply requires being genuinely sensitive to the moment and doing precisely what is required. If one were to take time off to find one's courage, it would just be too late to act.

Absolute peril has that wonderful quality - it can either paralyze a man and destroy him, or it can take him into that rare state when he is aware of nothing but the present moment. For that brief while, it can bestow godliness upon him. It almost makes it worthwhile to seek danger. It is possible that some people are just built that way - to face peril is the only way they can be at their absolute peak. In his book "Krishna - the Man and his Philosophy", Osho describes Arjuna as such a being - a true Kshatriya.
He is a swordsman; in his makeup he has the sharpness and thrust of the sword. He can shine only if he has a sword in his hand. He can find his soul and its fulfillment only in the depths of courage and valor, of battle and war. He cannot be fulfilled in any other manner. That is why Krishna tells him, ”It is better to die upholding one’s true nature than to live a borrowed life, which is nothing less than a horror. You die as a warrior, rather than live as a renegade. Then you will live a dead life. And a living death is better than a dead life.”
For the past few months my circumstances have been such that I have been under a constant peril of some sort. No, it has not been mortal peril, but circumstances have arisen in such ways that certain parts of my life were constantly under a genuine threat. I tried to manage this situation in different ways with limited success. One thing is, I told myself that I needed to accept the situation completely to deal with it in the best possible way. That did work at times, but not too well. Intellectual acceptance of this kind has only a limited effect. But then came those wonderful moments when the situation became genuinely unbearable. Yes, those were the wonderful moments since those were the moments when thought simply had to stop and action flowed. Something wonderful happened - a strange new life, a strange new bliss in the middle of hell. Of course, what I have been going through certainly cannot be compared to mortal peril, but for a brief moment, a little understanding dawned upon me. For a brief moment, I understood what true Kshatriyas might have been like. For a brief moment, I understood why Krishna wanted Arjuna to fight, why Arjuna needed to fight, whether he wanted to or not.

Genuine awareness can dawn upon a person in so many ways. The path of peril is a truly remarkable path for those who are able to walk upon it. People have so many theories about why Krishna allowed the Mahabharata war to happen. I think that one reason might have been that he saw the peril of war as a wonderful opportunity for so many people. It is said that Krishna himself did not strike a blow during the war. But I think that is a lie. Krishna, the man, may not have struck a single blow. But Krishna, as a spiritual possibility, was alive in the edge of every sword and on the tip of every arrow. 

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Falling



The fool who stares at the Sun
    Knowing that he may lose his eyes
May one day see the blessed land
    That beyond the darkness lies.

The fool who gladly leaps off cliffs
    Knowing well that he may die
May one day sprout golden wings
    And inherit the open sky.


***** 

For years, I have had a rather peculiar experience at times and it is only recently that I have begun to understand what it is. At times, it so happened that I began to listen to a song and was so overwhelmed by its beauty that I had to stop listening to it. And there were times when I was reading a book and was so overwhelmed by what it was saying that I had to close it. Peculiar though this may be, I am sure it is not entirely unique. Everyone must have experienced something like this now and then. There is, of course, no way to engineer such an experience. The same song, the same book may not reproduce such an experience again.

It is only now that I am beginning to understand what a wonderful opportunity such an experience is. The only reason why we are compelled to "break the moment" in such a situation is because we are about to hit a glorious peak of energy where the mind is bound to fail, where it would have no option but to become silent. The mind tries to salvage its nonsense in such situations by running away. But if we were to not fall prey to such foolishness, something wonderful can open up.

There is a beautiful madman called Swami Rajneesh who, it seems, teaches his followers to take their energies to a peak through dance and to find those golden moments of absolute stillness at those heights. Well, it seems that sometimes even when we are not physically dancing, those peaks can come to us as gifts from existence. Those unbearably beautiful songs should be listened to. Those terribly beautiful books must not be closed. And at those moments when we are so deliriously happy that we cannot bear to be still... those are the moments when we should sit still and allow the madness to overwhelm us. These Great Waves are not meant to be avoided. We should ride them, for there is every chance that they might toss us so high into the sky that we may never return. They might toss us so high, that we might forget which way is down... and then we might just fall upwards. 

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Fragile beauty

A woman asked her lover, "What do you like the most about me?"  

Somewhat startled by the question, he paused for a moment. Then, with great pain in his eyes, he answered, "What I liked the most about you was that I thought you were the kind of woman who would never ask me such a question."

*****

True beauty is such a fragile thing. The slightest movement in unawareness, and it is gone. And yet, it is so resilient. No matter how many times we destroy it, no matter how many times we trample it, it resurfaces again and again, seeping in repeatedly from some blessed dimension.



It is very rarely that we manage to see some of this ever-present beauty in life. Life is really like a beautiful lawn - inviting you to step on it, to enjoy it. And yet, even the slightest step in unawareness can destroy its perfection. One should really walk through life with the same care and awareness that one might have when one steps on a perfect lawn. But usually we are like a herd of irate hippopotami...

I was re-reading the first chapter of "Glimpses of a Golden Childhood" by Osho. He speaks about this beautiful poem,

The wild geese
Do not intend to make their reflections.
The water has no mind
To receive their images.


He speaks about this poem as a way to describe what he calls "communion" as opposed to "communication" - communion happens by itself, but communication carries within it the tension of intention and thus never really happens. What Osho is celebrating (I think) is the beauty inherent in an absence of intention. Somehow, in my mind, the poem depicted a state of absolute awareness. Perhaps the two are interconnected. Perhaps true awareness is only possible when intention is absent.


Well, Osho can talk about his wild geese. I was talking about this woman and her lover. Returning to that tale...

*****

Even as he said those words, he regretted saying them. Not only had something precious between them been lost because of her question, his answer was bound to cause her immeasurable pain. 


But to his surprise, she listened quietly to his answer... and smiled, from the very depths of her being. So enchanting was her smile that he found, to his surprise, that he too was smiling.