Thursday, November 19, 2015


I am writing from the hospital today. My mom got two seizures this morning. The dementia patients get that in later stage. But we just thought to have her admitted instead of thinking this is the normal course. So the doc chose a different med and conducted more tests.

What a life. And what depressing thoughts you get in the hospital. How will she die? How will I die? Who will be beside me when I die? Will i recognize them? My mom doesn't.

Have you heard about samadhi all the saint achieve? How cool a death that than dying in a stupid hospital.

Dementia is a hard disease to die with, harder than a cardiac stroke. The slow death, the confusion, the immobility, the incapability to understand anything, inability to say what you want to say. It makes you blind, mute and paralytic. As if the soul is leaving slowly, identity is lost. And some traces are there. That too slowly getting lost.

Doctors choose to live life wierdly. Kissing the fact of death every day. Caretakers of patients go through so much struggle. Even the most expensive hospitals are inefficient. Poorly designed usually. Making caretakers run around from one building to another, making them feel ousted. I watched a movie long ago in which the doctor is asked, "why do they have visitng hours? Doesn't it help the patient to be visited?"

We have a wedding in the house. My younger sister is getting marrief. So we doing all that halla gulla and then we have our mum on the other hand, almost at the last stage of her disease. Sometimes i'm scared that my mum doesnt go away without seeing my sister's wedding. How will she get married if that happens? Can't afford to worry the tragedies that my mind keeps creating. It always imagines the worst. The situations have made me pessimistic or my pessimism is my natural weakness. I am not sure

I meditated today. For 20 minutes. I have taken up that challenge of meditating for 21 days. They say it changes the circuits of the brain if you do everyday for just 20 minutes. And the effect kicks in within 21 days. Make. Beleive.

I am thinking of what will i do once my mum goes away. I think i will feel a big vaccuum and i probably will have no idea of what to do with my life.

I am currently managing a house with 2 caretakers, 1 cook and 1 cleaning lady. My sister leaves after getting married. Whenever my mom leaves, there will be need of no people in the house.  It will be a huge vaccuum. Wandering too much

Back to the present. A sofa in the hospital. And everyone around still. Breathe.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

The road within

Hello again, I am coming to the blog second time this week. I am on my journey to find myself again. This will be a different journey than last time. This journey does not seek to find happiness but this journey is for me to find myself through this world.

I am doing some really great work. Once a dream job, I have it now. Heading a business completely starting up from scratch, doing my favorite things while I'm at it. I have a great team of people to work along with. I have worked with wonderful people all my life, but I am finding this group of people so evolved and almost meditative, that it is just a great honor. They know me well. It's great to be known well.

Then you may ask, what am I looking for. Great work. Great people. What am I complaining for? I can't tell you what's missing. I myself don't know. I don't think it is more metaphysical than outwards. Spreading love, gratefulness and happiness around is great and being immersed in it is great too. Beyond a point, I can't think of it. It stops.

May be I want to travel. Yeah, I want to travel. I don't want a luxurious vacation. Meet an old friend in Manipur, when she faced floods. Go with a friend to Ghana, or just travel to Auroville in the neighborhood. It has been forever that I took a decent holiday for a week or two.

I want to join a music course. Learn violin! Play a melody at night before the world sleeps.

I want to do a yoga for a month in the Himalayas. More so combined with meditation. Like a yoga vacation.

Just small things I guess...But I don't have luxury for doing any one of them right now. I spent an hour with my mother today showing her old albums. It takes 5-10 minutes for her to register a picture that is right on her line of sight. It is slow but rewarding process.

I am tired to live with the burden of life, to see everything slipping away and not being able to do anything about it. I turn towards spirituality, gratitude and kindness. But I get some short term answers. I want to do the journey within, travel the road within, play the melody within and meditate long enough to fix myself.

Can you see what's wrong in a perfect life?

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Would It Help?

It has been long that I have written. And it seems like that I have lost that touch with myself.  I have been thinking of writing for a while.

In last few days, I have been going through the phase of developing agitation, attachment and aversions. The phase of not being a Buddhist at all. I think I never was able to become one. But I had a root in spirituality somewhere. I think I have lost that. You might be able to diagnose it when you read.

My mum has reached a very advanced stage of Dementia and we have two people taking care of her right now. She wakes up in the morning with help, eat, drink and change clothes with help. She cannot repeat my name any more. She cannot tell whether she is hungry.

Have you ever wondered how life should end? I would prefer to die in a car accident. Not really like my dad died or the way my mom is approaching death. But an in-the-moment death. Einstein once said that “Everything is determined, the beginning as well as the end, by forces over which we have no control. It is determined for the insect, as well as for the star. Human beings, vegetables, or cosmic dust, we all dance to a mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by an invisible piper.”  huh! What a waste of a wish.

I am currently reading this book called "Altruism" by Mattieu Ricard. Although I just spoke about death but honestly I want to live life to the fullest before I die. Take care of my mother the way she deserves in her last days. But after that, I want to live a life of a mediator. For few months or few years. I want to get rid of attachments and aversions. I want to develop what Buddhist called "Maitri Bhavna" where you loving kindness extends to all people in the world.

No. This is not a temporary impact of a book. But something I have been deeply thinking about for a while. I am writing this today to get these thoughts out in some space which makes it happen. Some energy in which I can get tune with.

My friend asked me one day, if I have been practicing Vipassana lately. I told her that I am not able to. In a set-up of a family, social life, lot of variable play their roles. There is no set routine. I start it but discontinue it. But as I was reading the book today, incidentally, I remembered everything that I thought through during those 10-days. Exact same thoughts. Some razor-sharp focussed chains of thoughts. I don't remember any other time in my life which I can feel so vividly.

Did I ever tell you that it is scientifically proven that routines make you powerful, kills your uncertainity, makes life more predictable. We train our teachers also on routines, they should kill inefficiencies in their classroom using routines like paper passing, entry, exit, seat signals etc.

Vipassana needs to be a routine too. I am one of the examples of preaching and not practicing! Guilty and self-tormenting. But doesn't help. I also torment myself for not exercising enough, not reading enough, not watching TED Talks enough, not taking care of my mum enough and the list goes on.

Did you see this movie "The Bridge of Spies"? When Tom Hanks asks the Russian spy "Don't you get worried?" He answers back, "Would it help?"

I think of these three words and try to relate back this endless pursuit and anxiety from work, to office to home, to trying to be everything and do everything. It makes me so depressed. I will become a practicing meditator one day but right now worrying about it, doesn't help.

Will keep talking.


Friday, September 18, 2015

The elusive

I know it has been a long time I wrote. The choice of color on my blog must be telling you how careless I've become. It signifies that I have lost touch with myself. 

I am not going to lie. I have lost the power of connection. There is still something good in me that lot of people trust. But I think I have lost it. I have become a jealous, insecure, depressed version of myself. I have faced sadness before. Lots of it. But it still kept me hopeful and resilient. It made me instantly connected to likes of Andy in The Shawshank Redemption. But now I've even lost that. The ability to feel anything deep. I have become shallow in some ways I don't understand. That I don't know what to write anymore. Have you ever felt that?

I am lost at work and home, and yet I try to be good at sleep, read, meditate, swim, cycle, yoga etc. But I just feel I'm more lost than when I wasn't doing any of this. The more evolved I thought these things will make me, the more slaved I've become of them. The increased wisdom torments me or I just am not getting wiser. Everything is passing through me like I've no ability to absorb it.

There is some constant anxiety of sorts, a disorder may be. But I feel sometimes that I've lost some vital energy I used to have once, the zest of youth, the charm of doing something great. Something that mattered has died. Failures or may be my inability to control life has left some scars that keeps creating some heated radiation inside.

I am also not sure if I've found what I was seeking all these years. Some trap has made me to stop looking beyond what I was able to see when I was young. I am just left with some philosphy which I can use to rationalize when anyone argues with me. I don't know what I believe in any more. My unconscious brain hits up when I'm just awake from sleep and often tells me how many mistakes I have done that day, mistakes that my Zuhari window can see. Then sometimes I hear the mistakes other people see. And I just feel so inadequate not being up to the mark. Of being so stupid, inefficient, anxious, unproductive, incapable.

I don't know what success means. I've got everything I had wanted. And yet, I am so lost again. I don't want anything more. I don't dream of owning a bigger house or a car but may be to get lost in woods somewhere, to live life normally without complicated expectations that success brings you. I would rather be in a Vipassana ashram then talking to people. May be I've become introvert.

I have lost the reason to live. The real reason. It doesn't lie in dining out or talking incessantly. The mundane irrelevant stuff is all I desire right now.