DonÂ’t ever touch my feet ( Ha! ha! ) : 30th of March, 2004.
04/02/2004 03:00 p.m.

A woman, who was a member of my staff many years ago, appeared out of the blue, at the doors of my office, about a month & half ago.  She came round the table and touched my feet, which normally, here in India, younger does to pay their respect to elders.  She left in some time after exchanging few words of pleasantries.

She reappeared three days ago claiming that while she touched my feet, the other day , a deep rooted connection was established between her & me and ever since then I

 have been dialoging with her from within, non-stop and as I had directed in the course of these unceasing dialoging from inside to inside, she has left her husband.

I told her that it was my image of her which did the dialoging and not me.  Hence it’s in her best interest to leave my office immediately, which she obviously refused in the wake of the connection.  I had no other way than to ask a staff member to take her back to her mother’s place, which is nearby.  She reluctantly left.

Later that evening, I spoke to her husband on phone and he confirmed that she had left home leaving a note that she is doing this on the basis of the instructions she was constantly receiving from me.  I asked her husband to take her to some psychiatrist.  Meanwhile I have asked my gateman to not to allow her inside if she ever shows up.

Well, the sole purpose of making this event as part of my journal is to warn one and all to not to ever touch my feet. Ha!ha!ha!ha!ha!. I am laughing but I am a bit tense because of this incidence. haha

I am not in the mood of talking today : March 24th, 2004
03/24/2004 03:12 p.m.

I am not in the mood of talking today.  And it’s normal, though the cause is different.  The effect is painful, if not of  not taking.  Please don’t draw conclusions.  I have always been a good listener.  A patient listener.  One cannot be a good listener unless one has this – epitome of the best human quality – patience.

What brings you patience?  The depth in the personality or is it the patience which brings you this depth?

There is an Indian proverb, which compares a patient listener with that of ocean as against a babbler who is compared with an empty chick pea, which sounds  a lot, whereas it’s empty within.  Ha! Ha! 

I am wondering if the cause of the bitterness of the ocean is owing to this patience?    Rather forced patience. Ha! Ha! once you realize the meaninglessness of babbling and intricacies of communication, you have no choice than to keep your mouth shut.

But then ocean is not just bitter.  Its’ depth contains marvels which was shared by the Gods and the Demons once, by churning the ocean, as the myth goes.  The Gods tricked the demons & consumed the elixir of life.  And when it came to the venom, they both looked askance.  Lord Shiva came to their rescue by drinking it & holding it in his throat. He holds it even today. haha 

In any case, it was the ocean who bestowed all the marvels to the Gods & the demons.  The epitome of depth and patience.

A dream woke me up today.  I dreamt that I was coughing & this dream-coughing woke me up.  My throat is bad.  My chest is heavy. And this is the reason that I am in no mood of talking today.

And while I am jotting this down Mowgli is wondering if his dad has gone mad today; running & playing football with him while holding a note pad and a ball pen in his hands stopping every here & now, scribbling something in the note pad.  Well I have decided to do my jottings, in order to not to miss my thoughts, even while I am on Mowgli duty.

I have also decided to take help of my Personal Assistant for typing these jottings (which she does occasionally) on regular basis in order to save time so that I have some time to write on a regular basis.  She has been my Personal Assistant since last 21 years and  My father’s before that.  She is a sort of family P.A. and there is not much she doesn’t know, except obviously, extremely personal issues.  In any case, extreme personal issues will never be part of these journal entries. Ha ha.

AM I MISSING MY ABSENCE? : March 21st 2004
03/22/2004 02:27 p.m.

All through the drive from my house to my office, I had this strange feeling that I was missing something.  What is it that I can't lay my hands on?  Hands are synonyms of attention here. (Those who know how to handle their attention knows attention can be handled like hands) Now, I am in my office but the feeling persists.

What is it that I am missing?  What is it that I am failing to grab?  And this is filling me with sadness.

I remember R talking in the same terms this morning.  R too was sad.

What's it that I am missing?

The scene is the same, almost same, the one  I have witnessed umpteen times.  The strangeness too isn't that strange.  I have experienced this every time I have witnessed this scene I am witnessing.  This scene isn't very normal.  Though it isn't very abnormal too because of the repeated witnessing.  I always witness this ‘not so strange scene' like a picture, which moves like a movie in slow motion, confined within the boundaries of a frame. 

When it is normal ("Normal" from crowds point of view) the scene is the same, but I am not there because I am part of the scene, within the boundaries of the frame.

Am I missing my absence?

What is it that I am missing?

Suddenly I realize that it's the emptiness, which is causing this strange feeling.  When one feels a bit detached with one's own surrounding, one is detaching all the internal associations with that of external.  The room seems empty and in the absence of 'beauty', in the absence of any other refined impression, without, we tend to fill this room with sadness.  This sadness is beautiful.

Despite the sadness.

At least I am present, despite the poor quality of my AMNESS.

At least my room is empty for beautiful impressions.

The conservation of energies will improve the quality of my AMNESS.

The quality of my AMNESS will conserve the energies.

The room, in due course of time, will be filled in with beauty.

This sadness is beautiful.

The only fear is that I might go back into the 'scene’, within the boundaries of the frame, scared of this sadness.  I must sustain this sadness.  BE in this sadness, active & alert,  from moment to moment, in continuity.

Will I?  Can I?  I really don't know.

The Crowd knows just one language, THE FEAR: March, 21st 2004
03/22/2004 02:24 p.m.

The CROWD knows

Just one language

THE FEAR

Oh!  How scared I am.

I was so endearing

The other day

Interacting without interacting

With those NOBODY'S

Capable of causing harm

Oh! How scared I was.

How can I be liberated

With this CROWD

Within?

No Smoking hours: 21st March 2004
03/22/2004 02:06 p.m.

I have stopped following the no smoking hours from today's since it had lost its purpose of generating the kind of conflict I thought it might generate.  Besides, my approach to non-smoking hours too had become mechanical & passive.  Instead, I have decided,this day, to not to smoke for one hour, from the moment I have this urge to smoke, at least five times a day.  This has succeeded in putting me into battle with my all those selves who wants of smoke. I have also associated the presence of my INTENDING SELF with this conflict.  Right now, I am in the middle of a battle.  Third since morning.  And I am happy.  I am happy because I am going to win all the five INTENDED BATTLES today.Ha!ha!ha!

PS: Charged by my success in the Round three of the ongoing battle, I, on my own, have increased this battle time to 2 hours.  Mind it, this is just for this round, no.3 

Ha! Ha! Ha!  I am happy.

I am on MOWGLI DUTY : March 7th,2004
03/07/2004 01:15 a.m.

Waiting friends

boys playing color

I am on MOWGLI DUTY

I decided to leave him alone: 6th March 2004.
03/06/2004 02:34 a.m.

 He asked me the other day-“What’s the most difficult thing to do?’

‘To do’- is what, unhesitatingly, I answered.

‘But what?’-The good fellow quipped somewhat irked, epitome of disbelief.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! I couldn’t help laughing. ‘Where’s the question of what, when you can not do any thing.’

‘Can not do any thing’? He looked puzzled and obviously angry. I felt bad that I was helpless laughing.

I decided to amend.

‘Well, one can’-I said and added-‘Undo’.

‘If one can not do how can one undo?’- He quipped -‘You have to do to undo'-he added for clarity.

Logical fellow, I thought. He knows how to apply logic.

‘Doing is undoing’-I insisted. ‘In order to do, you have to undo. Undo the happenings. In order to BE you have to UNDO your unbecoming. In order to be present you have to undo your absence.

He still looked puzzled. I decided to leave him alone.

SEEING a situation in its totality in an assumed role: Feb. 25th
02/25/2004 02:01 p.m.

A friend came to see me today, after a long long time.  Long time is a relative term.

Because in this case it was four days. She is a close friend.  Very close; closer than what closeness can ever mean. 

 Obviously, I was happy to see her.  Happy is again a relative term, which doesn’t speak much.  I was elated, I was exalted, I was excited and many more adjectives, expressing my positive emotional charge. I had been waiting for her, longing to meet her, knowing that she couldn't have come & see me in the course of those four days.

She looked happy but not as happy as I was.  I was hoping some close talks, expressions of some intimacy.  Something from her end which would be at par with what I was feeling.  But what came was not as touching, as intimate as I was expecting.  Nothing as charging, as vibrating as I thought I was eager to receive & transmit.

This pushed me in.  Suddenly I felt I was in a state of emotional crisis.  Time seemed slowing down but I was not interested.  My head was getting heavier.  I felt like I wanted to lock myself in a room, cry, and then retreat into my shell.

By virtue of some unknown association, my INTENDED SELF appeared.  And he asked me if I had seen the whole scene in its totality?

I asked him to explain though I was in no mood of acknowledging his presence.  Nor was I in a mood to break my head as to what he meant by totality?  But I was a bit scared of his imposing presence.

“Did you transcend your mood & SEE?” he asked. 

“How can one transcend a mood?  And why?”  I quipped.  “I wasn’t in a bad mood.  I was charged with beauty.  I was expecting beauty”- I added.

“You know” – he adopted his customary philosophical posture and continued – “the scene is always subject to the seer” he said and added by way of explanation – “seers conditioning, I have told you so many times in the past.”

“What was wrong with my mood”, I insisted a bit impatiently.

“Nothing.  But you failed to SEE, failed to evaluate the scene in its totality.  You succumbed to your expectations, your hopes, your moods & refused to take her moods, her situation into account. May be she needed some time in order to jump into this mood from the mood he was in, in those four days of her absence.  May be she was perturbed or disturbed by something pinching her right at that point of time.  May be she too was worried that she was disappointing you by not being able to behave in the manner you wanted her to behave; she so eagerly wanted to behave.  May be she was more excited, more elated, more exalted than you but as we know her, she seldom expresses her emotions & when she does she does it without any reservations, without any inhibitions  Did you evaluate him for what she is?  In her totality?”

Suddenly I realized I was doing injustice to her.  I was doing injustice to myself by not trying to SEE & evaluate a situation in totality.

I should have waited.  I should have seen her in the totality what I know of her, her past of my past.  I should have given her the benefit of doubt & watched her closely.  I should have transcended my mood & seen the whole scene in its totality.  The scene just did not consist of me & my mood alone.  It also consisted of her, her moods, her situation & many more ingredients, known & unknown.

I decided to merge myself with my INTENDING SELF., then and there.

And just out of the blue she reappeared.  Walked close to me, pulled me in her arms.  I could sense transmission of beautiful vibrations, both ways.  Words were meaningless.

Back Home: Feb. 24th 2004.
02/24/2004 03:46 p.m.

I am two hours away from my home, returning after three days of hectic, meaningless but compelling, activity, out station, a world of not of my choice, not of my liking. Though some of my selves do fit nicely in this world.

‘Home’ is a sweet term, one among the sweetest. You realize this more when you are returning to it. Your bed, your chair, your computer, and the world behind the screen, your people, your routine, your world within the world, your MOWGLI, OUR WORLD, you know you have missed them so much as never before. Yes, the sweetness increases manifolds when you have a Mowgli, who has been waiting for you from the moment you left, refusing to eat or play. Just waiting for you. The sweetness is real when you have worlds you feel one with, where you belong. You long to be among them every moment. This feeling of being, feeling of belonging is back.

Yes, I belong in my world. Worlds within the worlds. My Mowgli. They all trust me. They all love me. They are waiting for me.

The beautiful truth is that I am becoming my normal self after three days of nothingness despite my hectic schedule. I am realizing my being now. I was absent despite my presence all these three days. I am happy to be back in my world. Our world. All those worlds I am part of. Mowgli’s world.

PS: The quality of my being was so bad that I just forgot to maintain my no smoking hours, which I am sure I shall be maintaining henceforth.

Snatch the ball from MOWGLI.: 14th of Feb 2004.
02/14/2004 02:26 p.m.

Snatch the ball from MOWGLI.: 14th of Feb 2004.

I am not in any dilemma... Nor there is any conflict. Computer, today, doesn’t look attractive to pull me out of my quilt. It’s so cozy here. I am so comfortable lying in my bed letting my thoughts carry me wherever they want to. Though it’s getting a bit warmer. But I shall not get up to adjust the fan or switch on the AC. I am comfortable in ignoring this discomfort.

I am thinking what thinking is thinking. I will not remember because I am not present nor do I care. (I have to be present if I care) I am simply NOT. I have spent half of my life doing (ha-ha as if this is my doing. How we misuse the words and their meaning) what’s happening. It doesn’t matter anything to me because I am NOT.

 But a single thought brings me back to life. It’s getting late, I realize. The realization provides me sufficient energies to detach my attention from my thoughts and direct it to see and measure the amount and intensity of light from below the heavy curtained glass paneled doors of my room, which open in the lawns. It’s from here my son MOWGLI will appear any moment, kicking the door with his front paws, shouting, non-stop. It’s a daily ritual. He will kick and I will open the doors. He will kick me on my chaste in blatant display of his anger if I have caused delay in opening the door. He will hardly allow me to put on my white KURTA over my white pajama and sandoz BANYAN (a kind of vest) and my Kito, rubber sandals. That’s all. He will not give me any time for throwing some water on my face. In any case, the bathroom will be occupied by my wife at this point of time. I will wash my face in my study in the course of this ritual later.

Yes, the morning ritual will not end here. He will bring one of his footballs from some corner of the garden and would play rugby. He is a master rugby player and I am no match for him. The rule is that there’s no rule for him. The rule is that I will stick to the play of football. And he will kick me, bite me, and wrestle with me, if I tried to hold the ball in my hands or under my foot.

Well, I will utilize this opportunity to the best of my ability and moods and walk and jog and do some running. Ninety nine point nine nine nine nine times out of hundred, the ball will be in his control. Holding between his teeth’s he will run round and round the house till he is distracted by the birds and I will chase him shouting repeatedly-‘snatch the ball from Mowgli, snatch the ball from Mowgli’. I am always thankful to him for compelling me to do some running. Because this is the only exercise, the only game I play apart from the intentional psychological games I play as and when I play. Apart from the role-playing I am bound to do to deal and communicate with the ANT COLONY.

 Sorry, I will have to stop thinking. I will have to forego this comfort for the comfort of being with my son Mowgli. He has arrived. He is kicking the door and sounds a bit excited. He will punish me for thinking which I AM not thinking.

…………………………………………

The other day

My son bit a dog

The paradox is that

My son has four legs

The dog was biped.

…………………………………………

Three Bull Dogs appeared at my mines yesterday with an army of dogs and seized all the equipments and stopped all operations on fictitious grounds. I have just received a call through a messenger of the Bull Dogs that I ought to have thrown some bones. I will, so far, the watch-dogs are bipeds.

…………………………………………

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