What kind of a parent are you?

What would you do?

Give out your index finger and make the child grip it?

Or would you make sure you had a good grip on your child's tender hand, irrespective of the child's grip?

These tiny hands are always curled to hold. This is nature's way of securing them. A tiny infant's grip can be so tight as to require even a strong adult some effort to free themselves. And the hold is completely natural and reflex. The child does not think (s)he has to hold your hand. You simply put your finger to the palm of the child and the fingers curl up into a most endearing and tight grip you are likely to encounter in your life.

But... a child is not strong enough to keep holding on. And may leave your hand when distracted by a sight or even a sound that captures its fancy. And any sight or sound can capture their imagination
And... they let go...

Then there is the parent who holds the child's hand. Tight. Almost too tight. The more the child tries to free the hand held by this parent, the tighter the grip becomes... And the parent KNOWS...

NOT TO LET GO...

It is easy to provide the comfort to the innocence and allow the child to hold on. The result may be tragic at times- in a flash, the child will be carried away by the waves of a tsunami or a flash flood. The waters of time will be relentless. And the child, powerless. The parent... helpless.

It is more difficult to hold on. Sometimes despite the resistance by the struggling child. Gentle. And firm. In a moment of crisis, the parent thinks only of the progeny.

The Father does not let go.

The Mother holds on despite the odds.

The parents gather supernatural powers from the nature to KEEP their child, nature's child, safe.

So, what kind of a parent are you?

Leave it all behind


Leave it all behind, originally uploaded by Dr Sanjay Dhawan.

No one can walk alone... so our shadows walk with us. Our shadows inspire us with their depth and with their fidelity.

However, shadows, too need a little light. And they fall away from the light.

If there is no light, there is no shadow. If there is too much light right overhead, there is no shadow!

The days may be dark and overcast... but the presence of the shadow indicates that the light is around- somewhere- close enough to create the shadow. The shadow teaches us to go on...

Yet, when darkness takes over, even the shadow disappears. Each of us must walk the darkest hour alone.

Find our strength.

Know that the darkest hour is just before dawn breaks into a riot of colours.

Know that we are never alone.

Know that the spirit knows what it needs to see, hear and feel.

Know that the darkness has its own lessons to teach.

Know that the shadow, and the smile, will penetrate any darkness.

That darkness is not an entity, it is the absence of light. And light is the most basic form of energy in the Universe. Light is always near... very near..

If I could say to you...

If I could say to you that you will find your Self inside you, I would.

If I could say that you will find your Love inside your heart, I would.

If I could say that life must run a full circle and bring its joys and sorrows to everyone, I would.

If I could say that I love you, I would!

If I could... I would...

Since Time began, we are here to occupy our Space on the World's stage. We will play our own roles and pass on. Some of us will remember some figments of a life past and of the future. Most of us will live mindlessly and move on. Time does not move on. We do. And whatever we do, have done or will do is all in the Space around us, just waiting for us to reach out and touch. Everything that has ever happened in the Universe or is happening or will happen is actually in the collective memory of the Universe. And all this requires simply that we open all our senses to be able to receive.

Our lives are meant to give us an opportunity to love and devote. Our lives are meant for the soul to travel through Time and Space and discover the wonder that each of us is.

We may be able to find our purpose or die in the search.

The purpose is simply to be happy, joyous and find bliss. This, for some is in the family, for a few in their work and for many in the money they have in this day and age. The Bliss may be found in life, in love and in living each moment as if there will be no other.

So I want to say to you to open your heart and see life for what it is.

And I want to say to you to take your heart to places it has not ventured before and do things it has not done before.

And I want to say to you that you MUST take your time to live, learn and wipe a tear dry; that you must take your time to live, learn and bring a smile to a face.

And that life is waiting. Catch her hand and start walking. You will find yourself.

A split second...

Everything was over. A split second had changed her life, irrevocably. As a dancer she was a legend. The key word being WAS. Her dancing career was over. Or was it?

She saw it coming but could only helplessly be carried by the momentum of the moment.

Sakshi was driving her Jazz and feeling great about life that wonderful winter morning in the outskirts of Delhi.

The winter nip chilled the tip of her nose. The soft music wafting from the car stereo set her mind to a much slower pace than she was used to.

At twenty something life is always full of promise. And if you are talented and love what you do, it is difficult to walk. The step has a bounce and the heart is heady with the spirited existence. The world is beautiful, green and sunny. And you are invincible. The smile is more a part of your face than the make-up you put on. And makes you more beautiful, too.

The dance program this evening was completely sold out. The reviews of the previous one were pegging this to be an event to be watched. It was the kick-off to the Fashion Week. The talk of the town, however, was not the fashion but the dancer.

At the centre of this Universe of stars of various shapes, colors, sizes and luminosity was Sakshi.

Beautiful. Graceful. Floating.

Her mind was drifting from one thought to another but she was strangely at peace. She could not identify each thought that came to the stage of her mind and clamored for attention... smiled gently... and walked away... She was happy...

Then she saw it. The truck coming at her in the wrong lane was hurtling out of control. It had veered a few yards ago and jumped the divider as effortlessly as a doberman jumping a garden fence. There was a moment when it appeared to be toppling over, and then it landed with a thud on all four wheels and sharply went out of control.

Fascinated, Sakshi watched. Time was moving as if in slow motion. She was at the centre of a vortex. Everything around her was turbulent, but she was strangely in the eye of the storm and watched every passing second as if from above. She was being carried inexorably by the whirlwind right into the lorry. Or was the lorry being carried to her toy car?

Her foot lifted off the accelerator slowly, ever so s-l-o-w-l-y, moved a graceful arc in the air and came to rest on the brake. It seemed like eternity. She had heard it said that in the moment of death, everything slows down and the entire life flashes in front of your eyes. It did. Her mother's tears as she won her first Interschool Dance Competition at the age of 6, her father's smile as he proudly picked her up and high above his head on the way back home, her brother wanting to play with her at the end of her dance class and her grandmother's concern that she would be tired. Everything was as if a movie were playing on her windscreen. Yet, this movie did not prevent her eyes from seeing the oncoming truck.

In the moment that she finally braked, the lorry rammed into her.

Her last memory was of the look of horror on the face of the lorry driver.

Then it was all blackness. She passed out.

Riot of Colors


Riot of Colors, originally uploaded by Dr Sanjay Dhawan.

Has the dawn broken?

The morning is where love is... and family and life.

The earth moves on its own axis and does so relentlessly. Ha done so since times unknown to us. We are but a figment in this firmament. And we will also pass into the wind and the dust- merge with the elements we came from.

Each dawn is beautiful simply because we open our eyes to the possibility of another day that can bring us to and bring to us another day of appreciating life for the wonder that it is. Each day breaks - for those who choose to wake up and see the world with eyes that are open.

EAch day brings its beauty for those who have love in their life.

EAch day brings its glory for those who will only open their eyes to see!

Each time we lay eyes upon a loved one, each time we think of a moment that brings a smile, each time we find our thoughts drifting to a memory that defined our life, a new dawn is breaking in our hearts.

And each dawn is beautiful and powerful only because someone is making it so in their life, in their experience.

Love each day.

Love each sunrise.

Love.

Live.

See.

Experience.

Choices...

We had, in the last post explored a situation in which some boys were playing on an old unused rail track when one of them discovers the thrill of being on a shiny new track. The problem with being on this one is, however, that the gleam of the new metal hides in its shine the possibility of an oncoming train that can cause death. The children belong to a village where the village elders have built tales around the track to protect their young. They have legends to scare teh young away from the new track as well as to keep them close to the village by the rails of the old track. This track is too old to have any strength to carry a train. Yet, it is strong enough to bind the villge in its metallic grip and keep it and its inhabitants 'in'.

One boy, only one, is able to withstand the peer pressure and stay on the old track when the rest follow the glitter and the glamour. He is able to stand his ground and stay true to his nature. He is able to stand alone and also make the effort to call back his mates and warn them of impending danger. His words fall on deaf ears, his friends are blinded by the glitter. They do not come back.

The oncoming train is hurtling towards the boys- full steam ahead.

The driver sees the four boys on this track. He sees one on the other. His mind does a quick calculation... 4 is to one. And then, logic takes over. It is not a question of 4 and one. It is, rather, a question of the six hundred and forty eight in the train he drives that have left their lives in his hands... He must not endanger those lives.

If he moves the train from this track to that, the four boys will definitely be safe. The one who stood his ground, the one who had the strength of character to resist the temptation of glitter and glamour, will surely die.

The train may trundle along to a dangerous halt on the decrepit track or get derailed. But... these four will survive. And THAT one will be dead. And all those passengers, too may find their lives hanging in the balance. They may survive if God is with teh driver. They may die if Fate takes over.

Suddenly time seems to slow down for the driver. HE is trying to brake the speed with every little ounce of strength in his sinews and each little bead of sweat on his forehead- bunched over his brows in intense concentration.

Will he be able to stop in time?

Will he divert the train to the old unused track and risk all his passengers?

Will he ?

Well... This driver does what is obvious even to a teenager...

He stays on this track.

And he saves the nearly six hundred and fifty, and he saves the one who has the strength of character to resist glitter and who has the wisdom to stay safe.

As for the ones who ventured into the dangerous and the unsafe.

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