The Source of Creativity ..

Sometimes I do not write for months on end. There are ideas and thoughts floating in and out of the mind but nothing takes shape or form. To be able to create one must wait patiently to be allowed entry into the innermost realm of the psyche, that sanctum sanctorium of creativity. The great Malayalam poet Akkitham sheds light on the workings of the creative spirit.

Poet Akkitham 

"If I take it (pen) deliberately to write a poem, the result is a failure. Several are such occasions. What does it mean? Pen is not always submissive to me as spade is. But to the "self" residing in me, pen is an instrument, always submissive. ... 

My skill, if it is mine, in composing poetry is not always under my control. All my willpower, inspiration, balance, everything else are real. But those are not the ultimate causes. I have always been feeling that some wisdom does exist behind or beyond all these powers. That is why I say that I cannot be proud that I was, is or will be the final authority of my poetry.That power which does not obey my will, the will to act or not to act does work even when I am asleep. Sometimes I wake up, enter my study, switch on (the) light and leaning on the table trace the lines from memory. This is not a fantasy but a fact. Having the experience of such occasions, I cannot say that my ego is the solo factor responsible for my poetry, I tell you frankly that I am not the root cause for my poetry , but somebody with me, some spirit, which becomes bright only when it itself wants to be bright."

Only God’s presence in art will be able to make itself exist or extend to distant regions of time and space - -Akkitham Achyuthan Nambudiri

Wild Geese: Call from another world ..

For over a decade, I have lived the seasons alongside the wild geese; always aware of their powerful presence, preening in the ponds, resting in the fields or flying overhead during walks in the woods. I have heard their honking on winter nights through tightly shut doors and windows as a skein fly high up in the dark skies. The call of the geese pulls me out from my mundane existence. I return back momentarily with a wider perception of life, reminded again of the tiny place of humans in this vast and grand cosmos. In the poem Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver, the call of the geese is a call of belonging. 

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.  

One evening, as I sat watching..

One evening sitting by the shore and gazing at the  horizon where the azure sky meets the ocean, the poet Subramanya Bharati invites the elusive muse. The muse is the divine personified as a lover. The muse comes uninvited in those rare heavenly moments when one is immersed in the contemplation of beauty. The exquisite poem "Maalai pozhudil oru" is a conversation between the poet and his beloved muse. She asks him, "What did you see?" She then basks in the glory of her own beauty as seen from the eyes of her beloved.

One evening, on a mound I sat looking into the vast expanse of sky and ocean
There in a corner of the horizon, I saw the sky arch to kiss and caress the ocean
Immersed in the vast blueness, I lost sense of passing time. 
In numerous enchanting reveries, I lost track of myself.

In that magical moment, from behind she came and covered my eyes, 
From gently touching the hands, I knew
From the fragrance wafting off the silk dress, I knew
From the excitement rising within me, I knew
From the union of our two hearts, I knew  
"Oh Kannamma, take off your hands! Whom are you trying to trick?” I said

I moved her hands, turned around and embracing her said "tell me what's the news"
Laughing she asked "In the crushing ocean waves, what did you see? 
In the blue skies, what did you see?  
In the crushing foam, what did you see? 
In the tiny bubbles, what did you see?
What good did you get by measuring the clouds? Tell me!"

In the crushing ocean waves, I saw your face
In the vast blue skies, I saw your face
In the tiny bubbles, I saw your face
Measuring the clouds, I saw nothing but your face.
I turned around and embraced you and saw again your face!

The hours when the mind is absorbed by beauty are the only hours when we really live - Richard Jefferies

Summer must pass through me

As deep the despair of winter, so high is the exuberance of the summer in this part of the world.  I flow with the summer taking in the heat, the light, the sounds and sights.

When the doors are thrown wide open
Letting in the light and air; 
When I step outside without a care
Or worry of what to wear

When I have soaked in many a dawns;
Gazed at cloudless blue skies
Reveled in the bright endless days

When I have smelt the wildflowers;
Seen the new snails, bunnies and herons;
Heard all the bird songs; 
Tasted all the tart berries

When I have suffered the stifling heat
Sweating through every pore; 
When I am tanned all over;
Bitten and bruised by insect bites
Then the summer has passed through me

Wave after wave of wildflowers

Song of Contentment..

Many a times I wake up with a fullness of heart. A heart that is overflowing; with contentment, gratitude and peace; for everything received and for everything revealed. Tears flow freely with an immense sense of gratitude to the divine providence which gives everything in the right measure. Kurai onrum illai is a song that expresses the sentiment of deep contentment and an abiding faith in the divine providence, eternally providing for all earthlings.

There is nothing I lack, O Lord
You remain invisible; 
my eyes cannot fathom your presence, 
even so I lack nothing, O Lord
You grant me everything I need, 
I seek nothing more my Lord
You remain hidden, 
your presence revealed only to the wise, 
even so I lack nothing
You forget none; in your breast
the mother,  the ocean of compassion who denies nothing
residing eternally; so how can I lack anything?
There is nothing I lack

kurai ondrum illai, marai moorthi kanna
kannukku theriyamal nirkindraai kanna
kannukku theriyamal nindraalum yenakku
kurai ondrum illai, marai moorthi kanna
vendiyathai thandhida venketesan yenrirukka
vendiyathu verillai marai moorthi kanna
manivanna malaiyappa govinda govinda
thirayin pin nirkinrai kanna
unnai marayodhum nyaaniyar mattume kaanbar
endralum kurai ondrum enakkillai kanna
yaadum marukkadha malayappa - un maarbil
yethum thara nirkum karunai kadal annai
endrum irundhida yedhu kurai enakku
ondrum kurai illai, marai moorthi kanna 
(by C Rajagopalachari )

There is nothing I lack, there is nothing more I seek. 

Born again ..

Twice born or dwija in Sanskrit or born again in Christianity refers to the spiritual rebirth of man. Man is born once and blossom physically into youthfulness. Having lived through the trials and tribulations of life in youth and adulthood, there comes a period of reflection bringing about a deeper understanding of life, its ebb and flow. After this period of introspection, we have the opportunity to be born again in this world; to see everything in a new light. This spiritual rebirth can set us free.

The life cycle of the dandelion is a classic example of spiritual rebirth and the freedom that comes with it. The dandelion blooms once from the bud, then withdraws only to bloom again as a puff ball of seeds. The seeds are dispersed by the wind and the dandelion finds its freedom and fulfills its purpose.

"Unless a person is born again his life will remain like a blank sheet in the book of existence." - Khalil Gibran

An anonymous life..

In a world where people bare open their daily lives to the public, I prefer to live an intensely private life. Protected from the glare of the public eye, unsolicited interruptions and distractions, I can focus on what is truly important to me. 

In an obscure corner of the world, I seek to live a quiet, unassuming life. One can live a creative and content life despite being a nobody to the world at large. In anonymity brews the golden richness of an inner life. I see, feel, think, love and learn and just as quietly I hope to take leave of this magnificent world.

How dreary to be somebody!

How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day

To an admiring bog!  - Emily Dickenson

I asked for fame, so others would know me; I was given obscurity, that I might know myself. - Billy Mills, Oglala Lakota

In the light and dust I find my freedom ..

We become truly free only when we transcend the limits of this little body and envelop the limitless. When we see ourselves as part of one big whole, nothing will feel alien to us. We will become one with everything there is ..the light, the dust and the grass. Our mind expands into the infinity of the universe and our thoughts become free to roam into its farthest corners.

The dust and light

Tagore, the philosopher poet sings of this freedom in his song Aamar mukti ..

My freedom is in the light of the sky
My freedom is in the dust, in the grass
Far beyond the mind and body I lose myself
My freedom soars in the melody of songs
My freedom is in the mind that is in everyone
Pain and danger made trifle by hard labor
My soul burns as a flame in the altar of the creator,
My freedom comes when I offer myself to thee

(Adapted from the translation by Ratna De) 

Aamar mukti aaloy aaloy ei aakashe,
Aamar mukti dhulay dhulay ghaase ghaase.
Dehomoner sudur paare haariye pheli aaponare,
Gaaner sure aamar mukti urdhe bhaase.
Aamar mukti sarbojaner moner maajhe,
Dukkhobipad-tuchchho-kara kotthin kaaje.
Bishwodhaatar jogyoshaala atmohomer bonhi jwaala -
Jiban jeno diyi aahuti mukti-aashe.

Call of the Inner child ..

Within each of us dwells a childlike spirit needing attention. Like a child craves for the mother's undivided attention, the 'inner child" yearns for our company.

Have you felt, at times the urge to abandon all chores and worldly cares? It is a call to commune with the inner child in leisure and solitude. So long as this call is neglected, there will be a restlessness and a nameless longing within us. We can be content only when we nourish the inner child.

The poet Tagore laments this neglect in the poem Tumi amay dekechhile chhutir nimontrone ..

You called me, to join you
On a day of leisure
I was far away from you
I know not what I was looking for

When finally I arrived at your shore
The setting sun was taking his last peek of the day
Through the mountain top, gazing at the glittering daffodils
And I realized my day has ended, unmindful and careless

You called me, to join you
On a day of leisure

Your writings, I see in the garland of shiuli flowers

Your words, in the glow of dawn, as if touched by gold

Your belated invitation reached this tired soul

On a cold night when bruised flowers are falling
Swept by the wind, listless in your absence.

You called me, to join you
On a day of leisure

(Translation credits: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3bRLN3twm8&list=RDB3bRLN3twm8&start_radio=1&t=1 )

Sensitive and thoughtful men

To find sensitive, intelligent, thoughtful men is something rare. Most of the men I see are consumed by cares of money and market; of buying, selling, saving. The rest are consumed by sports or hooked to gadgets. Rarely does anyone have a genuine passion, creativity or care for anything outside of themselves. We have to transcend space and time to meet men of depth and deeper insights. 

All through history it is men who have inspired us with the greatest in action, thought, philosophy, music and art; Viktor Frankl, Thoreau, Aldo Leopold, Tagore, Gandhi, Kuvempu, Emerson, Tolstoy, Oliver Sacks, Dag Hammarskjold, Morihei Ueshiba, Khalil Gibran, Lao Tzu, J. Krishnamurti, Thiruvalluvar and many more.

Joy animates the world ..

While watching Blue Planet the other day, the narrator Sir David Attenborough mentions that scientists have not been able to unravel the mystery of why the dolphins ride the waves.  He then concludes that they probably do simply for the joy of it.

Why do children play? Why do the birds sing? Why do we dance? Why the synchronized dance of a swarm of birds?  All for the joy of it ....

It is indeed joy that animates the world. When there is no joy in our hearts, we are crippled. All our activities dwindle down and we withdraw into ourselves.

The joy that permeates the universe is called Anandam in Sanskrit. The ancient seers saw into this truth and proclaimed in the Upanishads that "From joy are born all creatures, by joy they are sustained, towards joy they progress and unto joy they return" 

Homesickness and longing

Only one who has strayed far away from the motherland knows of homesickness and the angst and longing for home. From the frigid north, crossing continents and oceans I arrive home to mix and mingle in the heat, dust and sweat of the homeland; my body longs to be toasted like a coffee bean in the familiar heat. 

Payannur, Kerala, India

Time and again, I am awed by the living wealth of this land; the fertile red mud, the grand rivers, the pouring rain and intense heat, the spectacular variety and multitude of plants and animals that live and thrive here. Tagore's song "Sarthok janom amar" resonates with the sentiments of my heart.

Blessed am I that I am born to this land and that I had the luck to love her.
What care I if queenly treasures are not in her store but precious
Enough is for me the living wealth of her love.
The best gift of fragrance to my heart is from her own flowers
And I know not where else shines the moon that can flood my
Being with such loveliness.
The first light revealed to my eyes was from her own sky and let
The same light kiss them before they are closed for ever.
(Translation by Tagore)

Sarthok janom amar ami janmechi ai deshe
Sarthok janom ma go tomai bhalobese
Jani ne tor dhanraton ache ki na ranir maton
Sudhu jani amar ango jurai tomar chayai ase
Kon banete jani ne phul gandhe amon kare akul
Kon gagone othe re chad amon hasi hese
Aakhi mele tomar alo pratham amar chokh juralo
Oi alote nayon rekhe mudbo nayon seshe

Finding Tagore's treasure trove

All of my leisure over the last few years were spent in savoring Tagore's poems and songs, yet there is more to unearth from the exquisite treasure trove of Rabindra Sangeet.

What a blessing that such a sensitive, creative and noble human being lived and walked on this earth leaving behind these immortal songs! Every poem is a gift that contains the distilled essence of life, nature, love, joy, beauty, humanity, friendship and more.

How insipid my life would have been without these songs that enliven every aspect of living. Having found this wealth, I am rich!

Loving snow

The depths of a frigid winter intensifies in me the nostalgia for the tropical heat of home in India. But for my children born in Canada, the winter brings forth wondrous excitement. The powdery white stuff is a play field for any game the mind can conceive.

The things we love and long for are indeed subjective. 

Tagore : Welcome life in its entirety

Each day we meet life in all its variety.  From fragrances to sights, sounds, touches, feelings and perceptions, our daily destinies, actions and interactions. Life also comes to us in the form of tranquility, rest, peace, sleep and ultimately death. Tagore, the poet wholeheartedly welcomes life in its entirety.

Come into my life in new and varied forms 
Come as fragrances, colors and songs
Come to me as the thrill of touch on my body
Come to my consciousness as joy eternal 
Come to my closed eyes as fascination
Come as pure and radiant light
Come as beauty, tenderness and serenity
Come, come in the variety of destinies
Come to my being as sorrow and joy
Come day after day as all my actions
Come also as the end to all my activities 

Tumi nabo nabo rupe eso praane.
Eso gondhoborone, eso gaane.
Eso onge pulakomoy poroshe.
Eso chitte amritomoy horoshe,
Eso mugdho mudito du-noyaane.
Eso nirmol ujjwala kaanto,
Eso sundoro snigdho proshanto,
Eso eso hey bichitro bidhane.
Eso duhkhe sukhe eso morme,
Eso nityo nityo sob korme;
Eso sokolo-kormo-obosaane.