Transformation 2

Bruce H. Lipton, PhD on Twitter: "What's the difference between ...

The caterpillar told the butterfly- You have changed!

I am supposed to, she replied.

Is there a story here?

Meeting someone I knew from so long ago.

This conversation.

- Why supposed to? You could have remained the same person.

- That was difficult.

- Really?

- You won't know. You are still fresh from the cocoon. Protected, taken care of. But I had to fly in the world wide. Meet predators, hiding amid the flowers. I had to change.

- You kind of look beautiful. A bit hard, but yes definitely beautiful.

- That's life for you. Teaches you to survive. Fight and live another day.

- But I don't want to change. I want to be like this always.

A laugh, a flutter, a smirk later...

- You can try.. But I doubt. In the end change is the only thing constant. Everything else goes away.

He sighed. It's time to say goodbye.

A kiss in the air and she was gone.

In a way he was glad, she was a stranger, and he was xenophobic.

Comments

A holiday with self :)

A long overdue blog about the path that I was seeking , or did the path seek me out ? Over the years the sheen of belief was wearing off and I was beginning to question the master about the magic - about faith becoming commercial, about what Bhaskar stated, "This is all about money". Packing my bags off and going solo isn't very uncommon in my life, but this time I was not on work per se. Checking-in into the Ashram, was on my bucket-list for ever-since, and it was an amazing experience. Despite the crowd, the ambiance just reverberated with a mix of reverence, energy , faith, hope, prayer - and questions too ! Like I mentioned before meditation was not about spiritual pyrotechnics, but a metaphor connected to life. Like the corner I chose had a vantage view of the stage and despite a stench that started emanating from the corner, I just could not leave that place, for the view that corner offered got me stuck there. Life is like that, we are often stuck in the rut , ...

Morning bells are ringing ......

Heidi lived in Alps with her Alms uncle - I read this story in a book that was called The Big Big Story Book and it had a compilation of amazing stories that were my first foray into the world of English story books. Recently on a long flight I watched the movie much to delight of the young steward who was our attendant that night. My first glimpse of the Alps was from our flight ...the dawn breaking to spread the orange hues over the snowy terrain...looked mesmerizing even to someone who is not too fond of the mountains. Switzerland was beautiful, with its manicured terrain and flowers like pretty maids all in a row, picture perfect setting and breathtaking, like a touch me not porcelain beauty. Coming from my "elo melo" city I wondered how people managed to keep a country so organized , I have trouble keeping my room in ship shape...... No, I would not like to live there ......it's too distant and too cold ,but what I will carry in my heart is the awesome time .......

Chariots and moon :)

I was wondering if little children pull the rath still.... But I noticed my Facebook timeline having quite a few pictures of smiling faces with their bedecked little chariots, much to my delight. In this digital chaos , somewhere these simple customs are lost , like a friend lamented this morning. Our parents bought us this crude do-tala rath and we decked it up with ghuri r kagoj and made The Trio sit in the prime position as we pulled the contraption from one room to the other offering the papad, math mishti and batasha ......The contraption rested for a week when the ritual was repeated on the ulto-rath day. And then there was also the Rath-er Mela , with it's stalls full of trinkets and baubles and bhepu banshi. Strangely, we also had a film magazine which was called "Ulto -Rath" and which was out of bounds for us as kids, thus building up on the curiosity quotient. The magazine honestly, wasn't much really, a few stories, gossips and black and white...

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