When the migration ended. Pluto and I decided to spend our last day here. Walking for an hour or more admiring, gaping but reflecting what was there and all around us.
Something unlikely happened in February. I wrote a letter for the first time, to send it far away; away across the seven seas wishing someone love, birthday wishes and health. And subtly felt that I should start doing it more often. Through writing at least, making unknown known, to the people who are close but far, sending Postcards to you. As it would be great to support our age old Letter/Postal services to keep working in this digital world. As it was also the birth month of my Mother. I kept planning that my parent’s travel, somewhere they had never been to. More so when they are more like Pilgrims than tourists, so wherever they can find a calling connection with the local lord, a deity of a city, a region; they go there happily. And that high of happiness had eluded them for the longest time. Much before the Virus locked our gates. The orders had come to open the schools. Ma and I had already started planning the opening of our school. We …
While studying culture and ancient practises in the Higher Himalayas. Continuing from Pandava Forest and the Brahma Kamal : The Nights of Change in the Himalayas : ँ : Who would have known that a journey which merely started in documenting the culture of the mountains will end in a never-ending quest of finding the way to my own being. May be this is what Living in general teaches us. Like Googly in Cricket. Guruji and I came back to his home. It was cold and only a bulb far was filling the mountain home with some light. He stood for a while without speaking, almost waiting for the words to arrive. That mountain Narayan, that slope lead the last Pandava to Heaven, with a dog. We were seeing it together, in the dark. The tip of it shining, because moon was raining that night. And that is where you will find the Lotus of Brahma; a whole valley of flowers up there surrounds the divine flower; because they too revere it. They want to …
Your place is not only on the map but also in the heart Freedom and power brings responsibility. That responsibility rests upon each one of us. Before the birth of freedom we endured all the pain of labour, even divided with heavy hearts; that echoing memory of division. Some of those pains continue even now. Nevertheless the past is over and it is the future that must be directed. The future is not one of ease or resting but of incessant striving so that we might fulfil the pledges we have so often taken and the one we shall take today, one more time. The service of India, of Bharat means the service of the millions who suffer. It means not only ending poverty but ignorance, unawareness, diseases and above all, inequality of opportunities, understanding the importance of this ancient land, this oldest active and growing civilization. And so we have to labour and to work and work hard to give reality to our dreams. Those dreams are for India, but they are also for …
ROAD TO NARA 