All posts tagged: Light

A Diwali wish

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Diwali is a festival of light, because each one of us is that light. For this is about our inner evolution and so we spread awareness to uplift the human spirit. Today as the world goes through a transition, it is all the more important and needed to create festivity around us, to rejoice in the wisdom and knowledge that our spirit is eternal and invincible. Invincible is what we must remember. Hence, on this day I wish that your each moment, each action, each cell brings light and joy that we always feel is our true right. A very happy Diwali to everyone, and especially you, my family here on this collective journey on the Road to Nara. : ँ : Cover Image : Nainsukh, women with lanterns and fireworks celebrating Diwali. ca 1760 – 1763. Guller, India. If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste And I will take this opportunity to introduce you to About me and importantly; As a Traveller, my lessons from …

In Life’s darkness. Mother is light.

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In these ongoing paralysing times of helplessness, while doing nothing; close your eyes. Think of water, a river. And if possible become it. Shiva was eyes wide open in all directions. Yet the destructive eye had to open, and took him inwards. Ujjain arrived in the morning. We went to pataloka to touch the equator in dim light and later ate potato spice. Darkness is the birth place of all creations. A child becomes in the dark. The lights glows the most in the dark. It is not that the darkness is wrong. It’s a part of life, a backdrop for the stars at night, the space between what you know. Darkness has a way of reminding you of the light. ExistING side by side. Sometimes overlapping, one explaining the other. And Mangla, the beautiful brown cow here in the village is pregnant. One big similarity, between a cow and a human mother is that both take nine months for their child to come out playing in the wild. Also one of many reasons, the oldest living civilisation …

The Wedding Song

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In her wedding dress that one day she stopped counting years   I met J uncle on a very cold january morning this year. It was raining and we stood outside an empty swimming pool. His room – 705, is just beneath my room – 805, where i am writing this. J uncle had his own quiet world till he met my sister. My sister, Ruspsi is a kathak dancer(banaras gharana). J uncle would not know about it for a month till one day they meet in the elevator, she moved and her ghungroo rolled from her bag. J uncle and his lovely wife had come from Banaras. In a quest to live with their son, they sold their house. They used to sing all morning there, he told me. He disliked it here. Everything. But he never spoke about it. He was just visibly sad. In his walk, thats how mostly i saw of him. A singer coming from a gharana who doesn’t sing anymore. In the meantime J uncle grew fond of my …