It is better to do some things without knowing why it is being done. You see, then there is no expectation about the fruit of that action. Well, if not always, atleast most of the times. This thought crosses my mind whenever I try to reason out the science or logic behind a tradition or religious ritual. While it is good to know why we follow some of these traditions, it is also good at times to 'blindly' follow what elders say. They have tried it and nothing ill befell them after all.

When we know what comes out of an action, the attention shifts from the action to the result of the action. Dissecting the action to discern the reason behind it almost kills the spirit of it.

I am sure many of you will not agree with me on this. Superstitions are something we all want to rid our mind and lives of. But when we come across religious practices that we cannot comprehend with our mere intellect, shouldn't we give the benefit of doubt to our ancestors ? Just because our finite mind is unable to find a logical explanation, it doesn't mean one doesn't exist, right ?

I am definitely not talking about blind beliefs that have sprung up in the last few centuries. I am talking about practices that have come down from Vedic times. While it is important that we discriminate between the sensible and unsensible, we also need to ensure that we do not miss out on things which are in fact good to us, but have been lost because of the mind's endless need to reason.

As I take on different roles in life and encounter different situations, what keep flashing most in my mind are the proverbs that my father and grandfather used to quote, either casually or during the process of 'instilling discipline' in us.

These old sayings, be it from the Thirukural or something the grandmothers of yesteryears coined, seem to educate me now and most importantly, they remind me gently that I am not the first one to face something like this. People have in the past and thats how they came up with proverbs in the first place!

The other thing is how these proverbs come to me at the right time, just when I need them. When my parents used to quote them, we were just kids - either we never understood some of them, or whatever we understood, we never took them seriously.

But now I do! I guess the cycle will be complete when we try to instill the next generation with the same stuff despite similar resistance :-)

Last week, we wound up watching a whole lot of movies. Here is a super quick review of the movies -

Ghosla ka khosla - decent
Corporate - pretty good
Monster house - fun
Devil wears prada - okay
My super ex-girlfriend - pathetic
E - horrible
Umrao Jaan - boring
Varalaaru - dont watch it

Other than these, we watch 'Nenjinile' on sun tv - hopelessly hopeless. And also 'Comfort and Joy' on Lifetime channel - it had a funny start to it, but we could not figure out the end at all.

"Enlightenment is a rare combination of innocence and intelligence, having words for expression and, at the same time, being very silent. In that state, the mind is fully in the present moment. Whatever is necessary is revealed to you in such a natural and spontaneous way, you just sit and the song of the nature flows through you".
                           -- Sri Sri Ravishankar

Happiness as a Practice

Being happy is a practice. Being unconditionally happy is a practice - "Come what may, today I'm going to smile. Anyway, everything is going to die! Everything is going to vanish and disappear - so what! Who cares! Let me at least be happy, smile this moment, enjoy my very breath."
                           -- Sri Sri Ravishankar

As a child, I grew up in an atmosphere of South Indian Carnatic music. I thought it was the best music form ever. The 'krithis' (songs) had deep spiritual connotations to them (Nadopasana). They were composed by perfected composers and they seemed to wash out all fears and doubts from the mind. It was definitely a 'pranayama' (breathing exercise) when those songs were sung in their correct 'Swara Sthaana' (notes), and it was particularly surreal when those Sanskrit syllables vibrated in the physical and subtle layers of our being. When the teacher would explain the meaning of a krithi, it would usher in more bhakthi and it did make music an positively emotional and religious experience. And as a child, I would feel cheerful and fresh after a 'paatu' (music) class. It does bring in a discipline in young children, who otherwise are so distracted.

I still have the same reverence towards the great composers, the same awe at the incredibly structured form of the music and the same calm and peace when I listen to those auspicious notes. But, I no longer seem to think it is the only best form of music. Last week, I was listening to Smooth Jazz on local radio. And suddenly I felt so light and lifted. The deep strains of the saxophone and the passion with which it was being played seems to strike a chord deep within me. I realised it is not in the music, it is in the musician. It is the passion and devotion that the musician lends to the music, breathing it out from his soul to the soul of the listener. And when the musician brings out the notes from the very core of his existence, they are 'perfect' notes, the most soulful notes and such a rendition reaches the listener at a different level. The music made by Carnatic composers is still so resonatingly divine because of the perfected state that they were in when they composed these eternal pieces.

It is the same 7 notes that are used in all forms of music. The way they are put together makes it the form of music that it becomes associated with. And the passion with which it is rendered makes it the perfection that it turns out to be. It took me so long to come to this. Well, isn't life a continuous learning process ?