Stunted Sloths

Modern human being is an impairment of his original creation for sure. Stunted perhaps the word; as in not in some spiritual sense, for that has always been man’s dilemma.
I mean look at the majority of us city dwelling folk, we don’t really use our bodies much, to work. We use our mouths, talk within our limits, work with our fingers and minds, accomplishing only god would know what (or not?). The other bunch of us stay in completely apathetic existence, where all what we do is work with our bodies from morning to night and another endless morning yet again, sleeping only that much in a night as the bodies fatigue allows. Drowning and snoring in a stupor of cheap arrack (pouch liquor), machines would have much better maintenance time. Running overtime with the body and never with the brain, to feed your baby. To clothe your naked cold dead existence.
I feel, for this. I really do, cause well I am a human being. Like you and so many of You’s out there. We live like animals, claim ourselves divine gods/humans and think in such petty ideals.
I want nay choose to break out of this tyranny. You can also empathize a bit (a lot would help). Stop talking, Stop the world, Stop acting, Stop it all now. We have a chance? Yet to make it.
Any given day, a plant or an animal would have a better life, yea i cannot cure hunger and neither can a random gibberish god from the sky. But I would eat and be eaten truly in the peace of this life.  What can you or I accomplish with the best of our talents and scorecards? Our efficiency and productivity with which we build better and best. We are still stuck in a rut, such monotony. Speak for your money all through the day and drink through the night to keep the painful bite (which will become tougher each day) away.
This is a true dilemma is it not, the true spiritual dilemma which I mentioned. The reason for us staying in between pools of filth (literally if you think broad enough lol) and enjoying every minute of it?
Peace and Grace

Bombastic

Maybe someone “up” there in heaven likes me, or really likes to play pranks on me.
But some days do make you realize how lucky you may be. On the breathing front;
This was the last to last time a bomb exploded in India’s capital New Delhi
There were 5 bombs kept in and around Cannaught Place, which is the center of Delhi; a busy commercial hub with numerous number of shops, arcades and more. The 5 bombs were not loaded, but enough to kill anyone in a 10 meter radius.
On this fateful afternoon (it happened around 12-2, I cannot be sure of the time anymore, as in I would never want to remember). I go to meet 2 of my old college friends there, we decide to meet near regal cinema-one of the oldest cinema halls in Delhi, though its no parking, i park my car in front of the place and sit in the car so no one will tow me and wait for my friends to land up (we had decided that I would pick them up from that location). I wait there listening to music for around 20 minutes and then the place gets to me, as in the traffic, the noise and the entire set of manic people out from the movie hall; i quickly move the car away and park it near the entrance of railway station.
I get out from my car, to call my friends and cuss them for being late *Indian fucking standard time* and in an instant i am deaf. The noise is extremely loud. Everyone is dumbfounded, A bombastic day has yet again begun in the heart of India.
The blast sounds at least a couple of kilometers away; well cause it was so loud and maddening, its effects made everyone stand dead in their tracks. I was totally dumbfounded, I could see it came from inner circles direction, and of course I knew that it was a bomb; but had no clue what the fuck was happening. I instantly call up my friends, they have heard it too, and we are all in panic; they meet me within the next 10 minutes and we get the fuck out of there.
I reach back home, the tv’s are on; causalities are being reported but that's not the end of it, there was also the presence of two more bombs- which did not explode/detonate. The police is on it (it seems)- to diffuse the other two bombs. One is kept in front of regal cinema. The same hall where i was waiting for 20 odd minutes. The place is shown from afar, there are tons of cops and people all at a fare distance, and some bomb diffuse troupe going around tripping on their own balls to get the bomb- they manage to get it unscathed. And I realize; if that had gone off earlier than the other 2-3 which had, I would be not watching TV right now, but would be in it.
That seemed a disturbing enough thought for the day, and I went to sleep. Just another day in India.
Peace.

Attention Spun

Sources and sinks of energy amongst the living.

Where does attention lead and where is it absorbed. I see in sexual organism that the male dissipated it and the female absorbs it. Consciousness is giving itself away every moment (time is irrelevant) to the power. Power the base of existence. In this vast empty space. Everything vibrates naught, and it remains as all is. In the mist of nowhere.

You see when attention wanes, the corpse becomes prey to the vulture. absorbing it within the beaks of fury. Back to empty space (akasha/void). Attention maintained, remains meditative. Shower your grace breathing like some life form, which is just to say; that you move/vibrate faster than the inanimate space around (you).

It seems so funny; it does believe me; that attention stored in one “life/being” pulls out to another, which accepts and expands it. Then one body will bow down its will, its power to another. For things unexplainable. So beautifully carved.

Women so beautiful, in the limelight and nightlight. They dance sensual wow blow my mind. Pardon my language; but the bunch of wide eyed morons with a hard on for an instant, losing themselves in throws of love (oh so they imagine) are caught in the loss of attention. Energy throwing itself away to create anew.

What a miraculous sight, this is what i imagine realized souls across this vast dark space/energy can see in their eyes, mind or whatever sees in the first place?

Energy travelling within cables and wires; from humans to plants to the entire sky so blue above. Energy everywhere, pockets and whirlpools. Diverting and converging, and somewhere in it; there is multiplication of this quantum of energy. Its being created and destroyed. No quantity but just the expression of infinite attention.

So I started from somewhere and ended up with a different phrase, but it all remains valid. I wanted to divert your attention here and there, with many words and weird experiences. When your attention is thrown off guard, is there a chance. That you get to see the real state of things now.

<< I just listen to music and let the energy show me all the ways how it itself plays with everything around it. Words are absolutely fatal in such a conversation. On such a night. >>

Peace Peace Peace

Raja ~ Ram

 

Not many people understand what the ramayana is; as in there are infinite ways to express the story of the moral-man fighting the ten headed ego bloated super-human for a person he loved. But can things be really that simple? As in, what was the story relating to in the first place? Some say that it was about how there was a divine inter-stellar war held on earth, millennia ago, where “god” takes birth as a human archer. He is exiled and lives in the forests/jungles like a hermit. And then he goes ahead to fight a guy who lives on some other shore, who steals his wife!?

It is one hell of a story, and it tries to encapsulate all the personality traits that a man of honor, a warrior and a price should have. After all, these are what stories are here for. So that there is learning and unlearning at the same time;

But I still sense, that there is more to the story; one thing with all the Indian stories is that they are never to be taken at face value, and i mean not in the sense of learning something new, but each and every experience accounted for is for the purpose of rationally showing something to the apprentice.

Rama is a man, who is a sage; who is a saint, who is a warrior (the imagery of warrior is paramount in this story), his wife is nothing and no one other than his personal energy-his shakti- his redemption goddess sita.

Sita is now “stolen” by another adept, ravana- who at times is said to be one of the greatest sages of the time. He was devout; just as rama was. But his ego took pride, did not take heed. That was the downfall of this story as well.

Energy sharing is an impossible concept even for sages? And that is the most disturbing lesson i learn from this story, it is not a conquer over evil or some shit like that, for its known that ravana’s only fault was that he was proud. He was not humble. He took his power to his head. But that is not really evil, its just ignorance. There is a difference; he did not have malign intentions, his kingdom fared well and it is not explicitly stated anywhere that he destroyed anything on the mainland India.

The only reason was that sita was stolen, took against her will? Or was this a fight between the will of two siddhas, two men (gods) who wanted power/energy at their beckoning.

What is to make me believe that lord rama was the rightful controller of this power? When she finally comes to him, he asks whether she is still virgin pure, if she is still his, this was his downfall here as well, as he let his ego, separate itself from this pure divine power (feminine), and attack this energy now returned.

Sita does not take kindly to such ego-istical accusations, and in the end she returns to her mother (her mother is called-> bhu devi/goddess of the earth). This is not by any coincidence, for the serpent energy of every adept- the kundalini’s home is the base centre in the human- the bottom of the spine known as the chakra muladhara which is also known as the earth center (ruled by the earth element). She returns back to where she was raised from and the great story of the warrior ends.

So from such a small instance I can draw alternate conclusions to the story of the fight between good and evil supposedly. For this is a surety, there is no good and evil in Indian mythologies. They are all the time trying to prove the rational way of reaching the divine through esoteric symbols and stories. These stories are perhaps more tantric than one realizes. Generally orthodox Hindus would scoff at this statement, but in reality almost all these stories are over generations made into something with connotations for householders while in reality they are tribalastic and tantric at core.

I am a great devout of Rama, for the word rama itself is a mantra for one of the centres above the muladhara- the manipura chakra which rules the stomach region and is also used to convert digestive energy to spiritual energy; its mantra is also Ra-Ma. This is supposed to raise the energy and generate heat in the body. and the word is such.

On days not so fine, i could also independently conclude that during the epic ramayana- rama the warrior prince was trying to raise the energy to manipura while his own ego took over 10 heads and tried to control the energy sita- this caused the epic intrensic fight within rama, which rama at the end perhaps could not win, even with ravana relinquished, his heart yet not pure could not make sita within him sit next to him on the throne.

A warrior’s life; as I see is very difficult. Its more difficult than most imagine. Ramayana could express such a story as well.

Rama was such a person to me, someone who remained humble and took his energy at par with him, not to his head. But there was something missing still cause the power decided to part from him; or it verily might be that the energy might have fulfilled its work within the warrior rama. She might have ascended all the way to the head, where one final dual was to ensue between rama-ravana, before it was ended.

Peace and Love.

SitaRama

Sing Along

So let’s us all sing along, perhaps it be our last song tonight or forever. Moments last for eternity.
We were once who we thought us to be.
But why now are we laughing at ourselves/ Make you parade; masked facade
Laughing with a drink in our hands, surely whiskey or wine. When and how did we become so thin; doing it all again, without least bit of surprise.
Look and laugh, jaws drawn wide. Looking like a buffoon in a buffoon's attire. Clothed covered all the fucking time.
Sing along we all shall; in unity of immense passion. Towards the cheerful song that is our lives. Living breathing dancing with skin touching skin. Impulses bringing a chance to live. Investing and not at all interesting, summary in so few words the lives of others and I.
So we cheer up and make merry; laugh joke and trip our hearts out. Without a single abuse or “negativity” attracted. Such a simple life, with the glasses down and spirits up. We cheerfully forget the burden we carry all along. We need to forget it, we need to go back to nothingness. When there is no where to go tonight, or perhaps for eternity.
I give myself up for a chance; even when the odds add up astounding against moves which I made, make. You give yourself that chance as well. And we shall both unite with a sweeter embrace; towards opening up to entire lives, A Dimensional world of wonder. Astounding vision and dream and depth in store. With a sweet smile; with a graceful walk; passion and style. You make yourself be here and now.
Just leave the shame and need at the door; I assure you that you will have a hell of a time. The bar is open for contented experience indeed.

The Subtle Art of Leaving

Some people may believe the title to mean (it can be read many ways lol); the way to vanish without a trace. Which is also extremely profound to say the least. The ability to be invisible; The ability to not leave a footprint when and where all how all one lived. Its a sorcery almost you could say. The art of doing and being without a breadth heard. This is being a perfect shaman to me. Healing without attention wasted on the medium of the body.
But that is not what I had in my mind yet;
The art of leaving; every thought and action unto itself. Without any lingering. Without any obsession or need. Do you get what I say? Well all of us have. The way something disappears in our life and love. Poof here and now not. Well to leave is to be at peace too right?
You understand where I am going with this? At the end of your and my life. There will be no life, after life, more life, or life unto itself. We accept the ways things change, especially ourselves. Without pity or need; greed or apathy.
Yea, this I can coin as a subtle art indeed, which takes effort and patience. Its to be at peace every time all the time (I learn this as nature shows me that there is no moment I can spend, or do which can be without alertness or aloofness mixed in… sure you must understand?!). Peace is paramount;
Is it not? If there is no peace at heart and mind, then you might as well say goodbye to your worthless spending life.

This is dispassion which the master hari krishna speaks about. Playing the flute and enticing ourselves to give up, willfully! Do you understand what a powerful play that is. Its gives chills down my spine; To sacrifice with no remorse; and no expectations.
So few and far in between our grand species can do this and with such ease! What a subtle art it must be. At this point some think; is there a use for such a mastery in the first place? Why should we just sit and watch by our life go to the grave.
I laugh a bit and chuckle too; see the subtle play, You see masters who understand and realize it with so much more clarity; life’s chemistry; purpose or ultimate goal. And they see that there is not much time till they are no more, and with such precious time they try and master themselves to the extent that they can be a passive yet kinetic observer in any situation. It means to give up to fate/god/reality/power yet at the same time taking the experience with a pill of poison. Our goal oriented existence is not worth it; with our mortality frail and ending every instant. Use this to practice the path of absolute silence. To show your worth, while being humble?
Leave all to nature, thats what is asked. Leave all needs of your life and the tyrannies you have endured. Keep walking straight through fire and make it out with a smile so divine.
Leave your nature; and you will be it. Leave your mind alone, it shall shine and outshine. Leave yourself by the river, and see what a wonderful new day it is. Leave this grip on your sanity; (I laugh so much). There is no use to hang on to a devilish imagination!
Peace All the Way Out Brothers and Sisters. Shanthi Shanthi Shanthi

Faster Stronger Bleaker Weaker

Something like the movie The acid House
You waned your days and nights, walking never there here and everywhere. You were to reach your destination so clear in your mind. Where did you leave it behind? Where did the rose which smelt so… go? I guess you left it all behind.
The rain pours faster stronger; as you walk on bleaker; ever longer.
On streets and desolate pavements. Without a soul in sight; with your noose hanging in front of your head, all night. all night.
Sure you hit the fast track to success; your money and gold inside that secret crest. You got the moves to show ‘em; the world. Faster and stronger you went ahead without a fucking care to share.
Your dazzling teeth and that bewitching smile (makes us vomit); your health so fine and your mind oh enveloped in dark shine; you thought yourself more sweeter than all the rest. You carried the devils pentagram around your filthy chest. Where your heart ought to have been; beating ever faster and stronger; only lay a carcass waiting to be buried; each day making it bleaker and weaker; how much longer?
You wacked the helpless; prayed for the pardon of your sin and got it out of your head. What a fucking joke you could have been; instead we could only reward your life with complete apathy.
You are the architect of your own demise. Blessed be; that we are not as you; that would be the worst crime. You don’t know who you are yet. But the day you find out *who you are* ; would be your day of judgement; unlike the rest.
Cause we all are going below the ground. Sleeping till eternity ends and wakes us from our slumber sound. You my friend are still at it faster and stronger, working to death for the riches found perhaps only in your head, while your life wanes thick and quick. It is seeking its reward; but all this, your charade, your facade, your hate is making us perpetually sick.
Why don’t you leave my friend? (this world, this existence and all of us indeed) Why are you so hell bent to reach the fucking end. There is no fame and fortune like you so explore. There is only your life ending one day at a time; a fucking chore.
So now I ask, why are you moving ever faster and stronger; cause it looks like whatever you are after is only making you weaker bleaker, causing your demise to be ever longer.. causing us to sicken and suffer.