Skip to main content

A Tribute to my dear Maa



A few days ago I lost my mother. I was deeply attached to her. I guess, no child in the world can feel alienated to her mother. She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. Her compassionate attitude, caring gesture, gracious smile, suffering, and everything I can remember come to my mind again and again. Perhaps, this is the truth hardly accepted by anyone in a competitive world of success and failure. Every achievement appears to be too small in front of death as a truth. She used to say that "I am not afraid of death but the fact that I won't be able to see all my loved ones is problematic". There is hardly any spiritual leader who neglected the value of non-attachment. But when it comes to samsara, the karmic fate ensures our life-circle to move around attachment towards everything. There is a strong desire to continue with the existing. There is a fear of unknown, uncertain, or death. Death is treated as evil in most of the prominent cultures around the world. However, it is the fundamental basis of life. Only in death life is possible. Only in dying there is a creation. Living eternally is curse only a few could bear. When suffering becomes endurable, it is apt to move on. Unknown is inevitable. No mind with his projection of existing can eliminate the possibility of unknown. Our memory has its own limitations. It can project the known over unknown but it cannot change it. 


Buddhist monks rightly believe that death is to be understood through reason and meditation. Until it is feared, death will always be a source of metaphysical speculations. One can speculate or imagine a world of heaven or hell, or  invent the myth of ghost or reincarnation, but the truth is nobody can grasp the unknown through any leap of imagination. Life can be lived likewise death has to be lived. In concious living there is a process of dying. In conscious death, there is a process of living. Dark and light cannot be separated if both are consciously observed, one and other are not different. I can think, speculate, imagine where she is. But I cannot know whether she exists. If she is existing as life or consciousness anywhere, why not she is in me, us, in everything? I am badly missing her. But I know she has got her liberation from the suffering for sure. Miss you Maa. Love you 🙏

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Meeting Justice Rohinton Nariman in a Sunday Morning

Aristotle once wrote in his Nicomachean Ethics that there are four significant virtues for human beings, namely Prudence, Temperance, Justice, and Courage. There are a few judges who have courage and sense of justice, both. Hon'ble Mr. Justice Rohinton Nariman has been truly an exemplar judge and erudite historian, theologian and philologist, a great scholar of music as well as a courageous and meticulous jurist of our country. He did his Master of Laws from Harvard Law School in 1980-81 and taught by one of the finest jurists of the last century, Roberto Unger. He became Senior Advocate in 1993 in the age of 37 and also served as Solicitor General of India in 2011 before he was elevated as a judge of the Supreme Court of India in 2014. He delivered many landmark judgments, including Shreya Singhal v. Union of India. There are a few people with whom time moves too fast, but to count that experience takes ages. Justice Rohinton Nariman is one of those great jurists with whom a meet...

Feminine Mystery

        Portrait Courtesy: Shraddha One day when 'I' die  All would born as free life The long struggle to be Would turn out to be a mirage  Whose mystery is long known But forgotten Every concern or engagement Is an escape to forget  The first germ of life; its completeness Shackles are nowhere  But imagined as real One day that image would disappear And a blank sheet would represent The Being and Nothingness My mother my light  Has merged into the shadow To witness the geist  Glittering in every particle  All around ether  One day when I laugh On the seriousness of playfulness And let the things flow  Without any expectation or resistance The day would be a new dawn To the spirit of wholeness And unity of phenomenon Fragmented in an age of reason And anarchus egoism of individuals  One day the expression of collective Would loose its relevance  When man would realise The silent spirit  And its feminine mys...

पिरोता जाऊँ एक माला ज़िन्दगी का

पढ़ता हूँ हर एक दिन एक ही पन्ना, हर दिन हज़ार ये मालूम पड़ते हैं। जबसे होश संभाला है एक ही पन्ना सवांरते आया हूँ, लोग इसे ज़िन्दगी कहते हैं। इसपे लिखे हर एक लब्ज़ जो मेरे मालूम पड़ते हैं, ना जाने कितने जुबां पे चढ़े होंगे। आज हम भी कुछ पल के लिए ही सही इसके सारथी हैं, जाने से पहले कुछ रंग मेरा भी इसपे चढ़ जाए, बस इसीलिए एक ही पन्ना बार बार पलटता रहता हूँ। हर कोई अनजाने किताब की तलाश में बाहर निकलता है, जिसका हर एक पन्ना वो ख़ुद है। जब ख़ुद के रंग को समझ ही ना पाया, तो भला इंद्रधनुषी किताब के क्या मायने हैं? अस्तित्व में ना जाने कितने पन्ने बिखरे पड़े हैं, बस एक से ही अवगत हो जाऊँ, उसके हर एक शब्द को चुनता जाऊँ, कुछ पल के लिये सही, पिरोता जाऊँ एक माला ज़िन्दगी का।