Out of the World- II

We are all living and striving for ourselves; The betterment of our lives in terms of monetary and physical comforts and then once achieving that; struggling for the betterment of our minds and finally our own souls. Its a long and arduous route; and by the end of it.. each one of us is so tired that we require and eternal rest in a grave or on a funeral pyre.
We never look at what it is to help another, to live for another, to strive and struggle for the betterment of another’s life. I too like most of you belong to this category of people (or personal behaviour) which looks only at our self as a source for comfort.
For many their satisfaction and comfort (physical or otherwise) comes from the feeling of helping another; making another feel or be better for their lives. This is not quite right…. I meant making another child feel or live better.
Children are truly out of this world. Their imagination and hearts are so huge. Their understanding of simple issues which us adults tend to ignore or look past is comprehensive. They are without guilt or shame. they can be taught anything and they can interpret what they have learnt with originality. This is why i adore kids, not the crying cribbing kinds; but rather the learning smiling and playful kinds.
Our HR class had an opportunity to visit various NGO’s thanks to our awesome social cell, composed of guys who are sincere and want to do something to help others and taking the right initiatives for such thankless goals too!
There are many many NGO’s in this country operating without name or recognition for improving the conditions of various sections of society without much funds from anyone. All they have at times is will and determination and hope of intangible rewards like a smile or love from the eyes of a doe-eyed child.
Life is holy and its perfection in action; its empathy and the feeling of elation of being able to connect to another life form as one. Without any distinction or ego hassles. Many people though don’t see this, and they run past in their attempts to just make it better for themselves.
Our group visited a little girl’s ngo in chattarpur area next to the temple. The village is like many others in Delhi; its unsanitary, filled with people without jobs and rampant with social evils like drinking; drugs and discrimination towards the girl child. There is poverty and social inequity and the root cause of this is lack of education.
The children whom we interacted with briefly over a 2 hour period were aged between 10-15. All of them went to school *thankfully!* and were very very smart from the first go! Many were outspoken and some preferred to be quiet; and all of us interacted whole heartedly to listen more than speak. For a child’s wisdom is something us adults have to learn from them! The girls understood why education and independence is important to their lives and what the consequence of not learning like other children could be. They also knew that rampant causes of poverty and abuse in villages like theirs was a consequence of the men getting violent or not going out to get work for their family. They also clearly knew how much a woman does (like their mothers) for a family and how under valued such a job is in the eyes of society.
We also held a little painting competition for them; and the group (consisting of some 20 odd girls) could create out of their imagination such artistic designs, that it left all of us dumbfounded in awe! Such celebration in the hearts and minds of those who are in youth, for verily youth and innocence are the only ways that this cruel heartless world could regain some of its pristine beauty.
I was particularly impressed with a child called lakshmi yars, who was I guess in 7-8th standard at this time. She had a deep thoughtful aura about herself, she was clearly responsible for more siblings in the house and perhaps had to do some house chores alongside her studies as well. She understood that guys dont work and spend most of their times in loafing about (something very abundant in indian villages and indian culture itself). But she accepted this and wanted to do something to make her family and her name better, What a selfless goal for a child. A child is one person who could be selfish- ask more for themselves and just themselves, and they would be right in getting it too, but these children living in villages wanted to do something good for their families, they wanted to study and earn a honest living so that they wouldn’t have to be in the position that they were currently in. This realization so crucial and critical for anyone wanting to change their lives- was so clearly present in these little kids (girls). I was in awe of god’s miracles in the form of the child. I truly was in silent celebration that i could find even now; in today’s world- people nay! children who were truly befitting the kingdom of heaven!
Yes the eyes and laughter of a child are something out of this world. they dont belong in the vile desecrated atmosphere which us adults make in this so called society, and children are not worthy of being in a world where love peace and chance for living in entirety are not possible.
I am amidst people who more often than not discuss their own personal gains at any and all costs. They want something for themselves not knowing what that something is, or at what costs it would becomes theirs. People who i interact with are prospective owners. They want to own something and everything which comes their way… But they could never own their own hearts and minds to liberate the same.
Children don't own or possess much, but they are in supreme control over their hearts. Their innocence ripples through to the most beaten bruised souls in this world. They remain the pillars of our society., In this place where evil and hatred pounces in every alleyway; every corner….. Children remind us of a better place; perhaps this better place is after all a place out of this wretched mean world!
Peace
(and the story unfolds further….)

Out of this World - I

I have lived in this stinking hole for time undefined, vile and putrid. Decay is fast imminent, I am sick of people caring about this body. And people stalking this body for their sickly gains. Its just an auxiliary system; and the power levels are just dropping…
The whole world is run by humans, and they dont know what the fuck they are running towards or away from. I am sick of systems of control and those which seek to control YOU>
Its just one step from doom, another step in the stairway upwards to that room. Its a kind warning from within; what you glorified and missed out is the sweet greed and gluttony of this pathetic race. No you may not save your face; anymore
The body stinks when it burns on the pyre. It reeks unholy when its alive. Personal motive gives away to the missing edge. That what is called ‘compassion’ and ‘love’ in this terrible day and age….
Where is no more? When is this awful game gonna get over? Its just a facade. An impending doom…. envisaged
The world doesn't deserve this body, and so it shall be sent out to space. Where it can look to find another home worthy of the wrath and hate that it so quickly spews. So frequently and without a single rhyme or reason sound…..
Sick of doldrums and loopholes in the machine. The false notions of purity and integrity. The sell out is the one who gets his profit tomorrow noon. There is no other explanation and the gods conspire; conspire to take over our minds. Till the mind is savaged by false notions of something good becoming from this rotting iron maiden dressed up to its fateful place in a grave or a burning funeral pyre.
You slave, and they will pay you; In gold and damsels, You speak and they shall cut your tongues half in size. If you choose to better yourself. There is no place left for you here; you belong to outer space.
You cannot change your nature. Your nature is of the parasitic virus. Intune with the stinking rotting corpse of mother nature. You are yester year’s creature. Your day of judgement passes and you will be out helping another.Why oh Why everyone asks while they laugh!
There is simply no use for a body like you.
Burn and be gone. the ghost of winter past; your misery and torture abound haunts these hearts no more. For these hearts are as dead as this cold vaccum of dark un bound outer space.
Away from the earth which gave birth to the devil. The devil which seeks venom in the form of money and vengeance. In the eyes of duality and partiality. In the end there is no worth to the sweat and toil; oh did I forget you fogged up when you said (your) truth would be the winner in gold?  Your honest life the base for fortunes untold?
In spite of your earthly treasures, you dig within your soul. Not a single ounce of worthiness. Yet you can go ahead and rule this world. The body is dead. Eaten by vermin like the one’s in your head. You won; and everyone else lost. And the days of never ending hell are back again., at all costs……
Welcome to the seasons within the inferno; where its warm and cold. Its all so simple when the plan unfolds. What you seek is what they got. What they got is what you sold. Welcome to the very beautiful end of your world. Celebrate in the coffin embarked forever more towards outer space.
The story unfolds……
(Part 2 follows)

The Flooded Heart&Upward Transit(way old)

Converted roughly from diary to blog (wont make sense till you enter my head)

Something in a white blue dream, for the one who would liberate me is not me but in turn is my self.
I run away from what I was yesterday, through and through I search the skies for a glimpse of the majesty which I need to find still… Night melts into burning day and I grow old worn out and decayed.
In my youth I left it all behind, all that was sacred profane or even divine. Now it seeks to be with me once more. How long this fight shall be? I just could not know….
Sometimes I feel blessed or even a bit elated, that my life reflected something simple… far from being planned or thought about. Just a small experience of a wonderful divination
These moments are all the cause for the flooding of my heart. An outpouring of joy which remains unnoticed to all. The fire moves now moves inwards and not outwards. It burns my cells and tissues, It draws the power from the internal fire, It burns everything down to the earth. It draws drive from the wind, and draws control from the stable water. Its movements is planned ether. It looks minute and yet its the size of a million suns, Its brilliance unparalleled.
Molten Lava is the one mouth and insanity remains always the other mouth. Its awkward assuredly but its firmly required.
The Upward Spiral/Transit:

The creation spirals downwards and hence the evolutionary movement is always upwards both in metaphysical and technical reality of a sense. The eternity is spent moving towards the state which is unparalleled. The state which is the true mother of all dichotomies and contradictions. Towards the enlightenment, the soul seeks its own creator. Its own mother… The molten sheath pours finally towards the first centre. The chakra of becoming…
There was intrinsic silence in the soul of the moon today as if the skies had cleared up so that she would speak, But she did… only to those who listened to her.
There is ecstatic fervour/flavour moving alongside the energy now. Some thought it was the wind which made her move, but did you know; the wind too radiated with her psychedelic colors.
Certainly the humans spoke, but never in the language which I could understand, but in an entirely different tone; their love was for something else. Sometimes I feel that the colors in this great world are too much for me. I wanted a bit of darkness, perhaps therefore causing such darkness to appear.
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Winds which remain tall, create an amazing sense in the alley ways of demise. They dont exist anywhere but in the shadow of our own souls.
Do you know what the soul is?
You could feel it when your skin itches deep from deep writhing in pain but you dont know how to remove the itch. As if there was no itch to begin with.
It is when reality cannot be described. Not because the real is not present. But there is no perceiver. The soul cannot be known; its just that my friend. Just that.
The words which are spoken or written are the soul too. The emotions and reactions are the soul. Even the soul is the Soul!
All selfish motivations are truly the soul.

Shri Mahavidyas: Chinnamastika

The life everywhere is one. It is one for it is bonded by the life force. The life force (prana) is the breadth. The breadth blends with blood. The blood is the elixir; sustaining and propagating life.
The Senses wander. The illusion deepens, and lo! my mother arrives, She is brighter than light. She is stronger than will. She looks over in compassion, and cuts of her own head.
I am fed the blood of my mother, outpouring after outpouring of life sustaining blood pours and gushes out from her decapitated body, it is the pure life sustaining power that I was devoid of in the first place!
Chinnamastika is the fury, she is the storm. She is annihilation of desire and all that is wrong. She steps forth to protect those who have given themselves up to her. She is the true mother who feeds her devotees at the cost of her own self!
She holds her pristine head in her own hands; and her other hands holding the cleaver which releases one from the illusion and bondage of the mundane. She blesses all with the boon of everlasting life and power. She protects all those who have given their faiths over to the cosmic mother.
Chinnamastika pours forth three streams of blood. Its esoteric interpretation. The three streams represent the three major etheric nerves coiled around and inside the human spine. The Ida; Pingala; Sushmana.
These are the true channels that carry energy, power and the will to life in the body. The center springs forth from the mother herself. In the form of the nucleas- she is kundalini mata. Where everything begins; coiled around the svyambu linga 3 and a half times. This is mother benign and as she springs forth and upwards, she becomes the strength beyond measure kinetic energy- Ma Chinnamastika!
Chinnamastika lies above the sexual union of kama and rati. They copulate and spread their energy within two bodies – the using of sexual energy to convert it to true spiritual power- Ojas
She is both the giver of life, and taker of life as well. She is strength and force of the abstract giving itself to life. The spiritual energy which coils and toils and descends to create man. Then only to ascend and unite to destroy all that has been created. She is the example and metaphor of the cycle which is Life and death.
She is prayed to before war, confrontation and death. She is angry, and she will kill herself before she kills us all. What a daunting and dangerous iconography. What will required to worship and pray to such a deity!
She feeds Dakini and Varnini, who are hungry for life. She is compassionate in her anger, she feeds herself to give to her devotees. She will consume herself within us (our own bodies), to feed true life in every warrior who undertakes the process of self actualization and realization.
She is redder than a thousand burning suns, she is covered in her own blood too, her decapitated head looks hauntingly at our souls, piercing ignorance and drowning it in an unending hole.

Chinnamatika Yantra (downward pointing triangle in red hue)

She keeps poise par excellence, her leg crushing lust and burning the ignorance of separation from paramatan. She has snakes as necklaces. She has skull caps as ornamentation; My mother is fierce, with fangs and lolling tongue. Her decapitated head laughs and roars at man’s ignorance. At man’s futile efforts to elude death and true life. Her sight will redeem those who can see her!
She breeds the spirit of bravery and courage. She is the true warriors goddess. Present in all places where there is fear, death, malignant energy and demise. She feeds on dark energy untold, only to convert it to the life energy blood and spew it forward towards her devotees.
She is the self sacrifice which heroes undertake. She is the caring loving mother to her devotees, she is the energy untold. She is the interconnected cycle renewing irrespective of space and time
She is the epitome of left handed worship, which requires extreme vigil and discrimination at all times by the warrior. She is the mother of vama marga
She will cure all maladies related to blood and body. She will restore vigour and virility. She is symbol of continuous sexual union. She is the fountain of Soma. She is the fountain of Ojas. She is eternal Life. She is eternal Death

Pray in silence, Pray sincerely to the definition of sacrifice. To mother who cares like no other; Pray and you will be saved. Pray and meditate and you will also be decapitated as her.
Raise your glasses, filled with the holy elixir which is blood. Your Blood.
Save it till the time is ripe. The night is holy. Bathe now; In your life force.
Renew and Restart. Life becoming the longing night spreading death revisiting itself to eternal Life!
peace

Seasons of Wonder

I tried to look away; that cold misty rainy day, when the world lost its appeal; replaced so visibly by blatant vanity.

I was young; observably naive, believed in values that no one could care to see; walked the earth silently, overjoyed at the becoming of myself; Me.

Harsh melancholy brewing within, not a living soul to fill my cup to the brim. There was life and death and yet nothing to look towards. Where had my seasons of delight disappeared?

A little bit of love goes a long way; Those who haven't loved could never ever say; But the heart knows the broken path by night is delight, that by morning light would seem ordinary without respite.

In quiet wilderness, with the moon beaming on my forehead; I tried, Oh how I tried to look away; but in vain. She stood by the deodars calling the morning twilight. She was not looking for anyone in plain sight. Her silhouette made me howl in pain and simultaneous delight. How did a nymph escape the cruelties of such dark and lonely nights.

Depth of sorrow; surfaces in the pools that are my eyes, separate from her even an instant is a cruel torture befitting no man. How I survived centuries alone, without her, my seasons of delight were in reality but cruel fate.

I approach her in silence and we merge in silence. The spirits collide this silent night. The fury is the moon and the love is her light. Oh how we become submerged in the outpouring of one; There is no telling whether this is dream or real. With your beloved; youth turns to wisdom turns over to rebirth once again.

Over the pacific we sail; with our sights on the sunset. There is downpour from the torrid skies, yet nothing to stop us from our chosen path. She and I; apart and aloof from the rest of the insane world. Where words cause hate and actions result in pain. Amidst the ship of our dreams, we forge forwards towards unity in silence plain. The seasons of delight have begun once again!