I renounce it all- you can't fire me, I quit

After much thought and deliberation, I came to a conclusion about what to do next. I am going to become a Buddhist monk (or, more correctly, a Buddhist nun). I have decided to rescind worldly property, pursuits, and thoughts as I prepare to dedicate my life to Buddha's principals. Enlightenment awaits. I'll have to start clearing out my stuff soon. I still have a couple of months before I move away to a monastery.

This is how it ends. Or, how it begins. Depends on how you look at it.

Love brings back the dead...only if you believe

According to an ancient Greek myth, there was once a handsome musician, Orpheus, who fell in love with a beautiful woman, Eurydice. On their wedding day, Eurydice falls dead as Orpheus looks on in horror. She is taken to the underworld by Hades' workers.

Determined to have his love back, Orpheus wanders to the underworld. He charms everyone with the sweet music of his lyre- the ghosts, the rotting corpses, the strange creatures of the dark. He cries out to Hades and Persephone- "Love is so great that it even conquered your hearts and caused you both to unite. Please loan my love back to me. You lay your claim on everyone in the end anyhow." Moved by his pleas, the gods concede. He is allowed to take his love, Eurydice, back to earth with him. However, Eurydice is not to walk alongside him; instead, she is to walk behind him, carried by Hermes, the messenger god. Orpheus is not to look back at her until they reach the earth; else she will be taken from him again- this time, forever.

Overjoyed, Orpheus sets back on his journey to the earth. For a long time, he is able to keep his word; however, anxiety and worry begin to distract him. He doubts whether his prayers have indeed been answered- have the gods tricked him? He looks back once- and Eurydice bids him farewell.

I gather from this myth that doubt kills love; doubt kills faith; doubt kills any manifestations. When we make a wish, or a prayer, we can have anything we want; the trick is to believe that it will come true. In fact, the best thing is to believe that we already have whatever we pray for and to thank the universe for it as we pray. Most people wish with a strong sense of doubt that it will ever be realized- we are taught to believe that the world is a big bad place where there is no place for such weakness, such whimsical beliefs. However, I've always lived my life in this way- and so far, I can confidently say that whenever I ask with belief, I receive it.

I love you, Krishna

My Krishna,

How dearly I love you,

How deeply I care for you,

How blindly I trust you,

How faithfully I remain devoted to you,

How desperately I long for you,

How eagerly I await you,

How surely I know that you will arrive.

Give your lover one opportunity to serve you. My life will be fulfilled. My dark, beloved lord- my Kanha, my Murali-Manohar, my Shyam, my Gopal, my Brij- Bhari, my Nandalala. My heart calls out to you- please!

Sweet reunion

Radha Krishna: The Reunion

RADHA: Last night my Lord came to me in my dream. It was again the beloved trysting place on the banks of the Yamuna. As of yore, I was in the jasmine bower. His flute made melodious music, and he walked up to me with his witching smile. After so many years, why should he have come to me yesterday? What does it mean? For years I have been looking for him: for a look from his dear eyes: for a honeyed word from his lips. Now, now he comes to haunt by dream. And that dream! When I was held in his arms, when his lips murmured the oft-remembered words of love, the dream came to an end. It was too sudden, and I am so afraid. I know not what it means. My heart is full of strange misgivings. Is it an evil omen?

KRISHNA: Radhika! My heart’s dearest!

R: That was my love’s voice! Yes! It was! And yet! It cannot be! He cannot come here now. He is too busy in Dwaraka. His days are spent with Partha, and his nights are spent in the arms of Bhama. How, then, could he think of me even in his dreams? And now, his voice. Like a whiff of perfume from some buried past, it comes to me bringing fragrant thoughts with it.

K: Radha, Radhika, can you not hear me? It is I, your Krishna!

R: (Goes up a few steps and sees Krishna) My Lord! My Beloved! You have come. Is it true? Or is it again a silver dream to shiver into a million flinders, like a picture traced on water? Tell me, my Lord, am I dreaming yesterday night’s dream to a finish?

K: No, my dear. I have come, at last: to rest in your dear arms. To look into your eyes: to touch your gentle hands: to hear the caress in your sweet voice.

R: My Shyam, you look pale. Are you hurt, my love?

K: Yes. I am hurt. Radha, I am dying, Radha. I want to die in your arms. So I have come.

R: (With tears in her eyes) So Rukmini cannot soothe your hot temples. Bhama cannot kiss away the weariness from your limbs. To me, to me, the Radha of your younger days, to me, you bring your pain. Master mine, to what do I owe this great honour?

K: Do you not know that you and I are one? One? Bhama and Rukmini are but moments in my mighty life. But you are different. In the beginning, I was yours and you were mine. Now the end is come. I have come home to you. Know you not how, when you ride in a chariot, a million trees and a million rivers meet you and pass you, they going one way and you the other? But have you looked at the stars? the moon? the glorious heavens? They are always with you. Even so, my love, the things of the world touched me, tried to hinder me. But I have passed them by. Like the heavens, you and thoughts of you have ever been with me, making my life one of joy, and hopefulness. In the horizon which retreats faster, the faster you travel, heaven and earth meet. Death is the end of my Quest. I am nearing the horizon and I knew you would be waiting for me there–at the Journey’s End, to fill my cup of happiness to the brim. In a world of inconstant things you are constant, and my heart aches for you. Take me, I am tired.

R: My lord, how came you to he thus? wounded? hurt? dying?

K: Radha, my task in this world of men is over. The purpose has been fulfilled. It is time to lay down the oars and say: It is all over. I am tired, Radha. I am hurt. I have become disillusioned. But it’s no matter. Let us go back to the days of our love. Do you remember them? Do you remember our first walk on the banks of the Yamuna?

R: Indeed, I do. Mother Yasoda thought you would be afraid to go alone in the dark, and asked me to go with you. I remember the look you gave me. It was half teasing and half tender. You made me blush red like the mantle I Wore. We went together. The moon had come up. The river, dark in the daytime looked golden now, and your hand touched mine. I spoke not a word, and you did not. But your touch woke up the strings of my heart, and the music of love flooded my being. You took me to the jasmine bower and spoke of your love. I could scarcely talk. I was so full of happiness. My whole frame thrilled with ecstasy at the thought that you should love me. How could I bear so much of happiness? ‘Krishna, my Krishn? I am yours. I am all Yours.’ I murmured the words and you took me in your arms.

K: Yes, my love. I was happy then. It was the thought of that night, and other such night that has kept me up through the dark days of the Kurukshetra battle. Now it is all over. I am free to come to you and your loving arms.

R: My heart’s dearest, how came you to be wounded?

K: A Nishada aimed an arrow at me and hit me.

R: Hit you, my lord? I do not understand! No, no. Madhusudana, you have destroyed the entire world! and you are hurt by a mere arrow! What Leela is this, my lord?

K: It does make me smile. But it is true. I was in the forest. A languor came on my limbs, and I lay me down under a tree and went to sleep. I was dreaming of you. Then, something stung my foot. I woke up and found an arrow embedded in my foot. I looked round and saw a Nishada walking towards me. He was as nonplussed as I was. Lo! on a sudden, the truth dawned on me. Do you not know that my foot bears, as a birthmark, a beautiful bird?

R: Indeed, I do. Do you remember my saying that it is the one bird which cannot fly but walks the earth? Do you not remember how jealous I was because it could always, always touch you, while I could not?

K: This Nishada saw only that strange bird from a distance, but saw me not. He aimed at it and hit it, and me too, unwittingly. By God, it hurts. But your gentle hands are drawing out all the pain. This is the end that I was waiting for. To die, to die in your arms, with your tender hands caressing my hot temples, your sweet form cooling my fevered limbs. Radha, let us forget an this and think of Brindavan.

R: My lord, do you remember that moonlit evening on the river bank when you danced the Rasa with the Gopis?

K: Yes, I do. I was dancing, and, all on a sudden, I remembered that you would be waiting for me. I left the dance and ran to the banks of Kalindi to meet you. You were there, but angry with me.

R: Yes. Kumudini came and told me how, decked in sandalwood and flower garlands, with your saffron silk flying in the breeze, you were dancing with the Gopikas. My lord, I was hurt. I was waiting for you. You remembered me not. My mantle was the colour of the peacock’s throat. My hair was loose and perfumed, as you liked it to be. My form was bathed in the perfume of Ketaki and I was like a Kumuda waiting for the kiss of the moonbeam. But then, you heeded me not.

K: I was sorry. I came to you and you were there. Hurt, angry tears glistened in your eyes. I tried to take your hand, but you drew it away. I tried to touch your feet, but you fled. I followed you, but you heeded me not. You walked along the winding paths, like a streak of lightning walking the earth.

R: And you, my lord, followed in my wake, like a thundercloud. You called my name. It was like the voice of the swan. It thrilled me through. I wanted to rush into your arms. But my pride held me.

K: Oh, really love! Do you know how I longed for you then? Your mantle, a gleam of colour in that dark glade: the river snaking her way in a silver flood: the perfume of the night flowers: and the sweet fragrance of your streaming hair wafted to me by the cool night breeze: all these fanned my desire for you. You walked and I kissed the spots which your feet had touched, and placed my feet on the same spots. A thrill ran through me and I was almost faint. Suddenly you relented. Why?

R: Why? Oh, my love, I saw you kissing my footsteps. How could I hold back? I loved you, my lord. Again, do you remember, beloved, that day when Kalinga was vanquished?

K: Yes. We were in the jasmine bower. Suddenly Balabhadra’s voice called my name. My hair was all awry, and my golden mantle and your crimson silk were lying entangled on the marble seat. I can still see your terrified look when I tried in vain to clothe myself properly. You helped me with trembling fingers. Then we searched together for my flute and my peacock’s plume. Can we get back those beautiful days?

R: They are gone, indeed. My lord, when Akrura, the cruellest of men, took you away from us, Brindavan was bathed in tears. No one took heed of poor Radha sobbing unrestrained in the jasmine bower. No one except…

K: Yes, except me; I stopped my chariot on the way and came to you. I knew you would be there. Do you not remember? I took you in my arms and kissed away your hot salt tears and promised that some day I would come to you.

R: It is that promise that has kept me alive through these years of pain. From then on, all my moments coursed ceaselessly to and fro in an hour-glass that was your heart and mine: sealed up therein as sand within the chamber turned hour by hour to run and heap again from yours to mine: from mine to yours. But tell me, my lord, what strange love this is. Last night I dreamed of you. It was an omen. I knew that something had happened. How could I know? How is it that I knew? Others have loved, but not like this. When you lay down to dream of me, you melted into my dream. And when the arrow hurt you, my dream was hurt too.

K: My heart’s dearest, you and I are two hearts beating as one. You are the soul wandering in quest of God, and I am God. The time has come for the end of the Quest. I have found you.

R: My beloved, I do not understand. I am wandering to find fulfillment in you. Why then, should You come to Me? Is it not the other way?

K: So the world of men thinks. But it is not so. When a child, longing for the mother’s arms, cries aloud in the darkness, it is the mother, in her infinite compassion and love, goes in search of her child, and gathers it in her arms. When a Bhakta cries out to his Lord, it is the Lord Himself who takes up the pursuit and finds the Bhakta and gathers him into Himself. You want me and yearn for me. But my yearning for you is even more painful and intense. My love needs to be fulfilled in yours. I can be happy only when I find you. I have reached the end. I have found you. Radha, will you not come with me?

R: Indeed, my lord, my long lost dream is about to be realised. To be with you forever! Ever! Tell me what I should do.

K: Look there! the wood-cutters have felled those sandalwood trees. Make me a pyre. Then lift me on to it. Then–

R: Then, my lord! Into your arms! There everlasting peace will be found! Never to leave you! Never more to look for you! Your love overwhelms me (falls at his feet).

K: (Gathering her up) At last! At long last! I have found you. Come, let us ascend to the heavens on the wings of pure fire. Come, my dearest, my beloved, come.

R: I come, my love, my lord. I place my hands in yours. Take me where you will. I am yours. Do not leave me.

K. Leave you, Beloved? No, no, nevermore. We can nevermore be torn asunder. In the wilderness called love, we lost our ways. We searched for each other for an infinite number of years. But now the years of searching are ended. We have found each other. Hand in hand we will walk together into this wilderness again. But not to be parted. Come, my heart, let us, you and me, start anew our journey into the Realms of Love.

I love you, Shri Krishna. 

Today

Today, I feel drained. I feel upset, I feel let down, I feel like I'm at the bottom of a well and I cannot find my way up. I feel that my life has no purpose- I could not accomplish one thing right- the biggest thing that matters to me in my life. If I can't even do that, maybe I should just leave, I said to myself. And just that moment, I saw the writing on the stone bench next to me- it said,"die". That's a clear sign, I thought to myself.

I felt light at the thought of death, like always. Just take off, leaving behind my legacy. He doesn't even seem to want to talk to me anymore. Am I that repulsive, that unpleasant, that depressing, that bad for people I love? Is it too much to ask for a conversation? For honesty? For trust? Please do not go around treating me with kid gloves. I'm grown up now, I'd rather hear the truth than believe in a facade.

I see it clearly now. My time has come- once the Florida trip is over, I'll have to take steps to carry it out. I really do not want to waste my life- I'm considering becoming a nun. Serve the higher being, because god is the only one who can offer me the love that I go around offering others in my life.

I was a pin-up girl

Last halloween, I decided to be a pin-up girl. I had always wanted to be a 50's calendar girl- so, I did it. I did not have to buy anything except for garters. The hair and makeup- all mine. I surprised myself with my own creativity- all in good fun :) Yay for vintage.

Karma

Things that happen to me today are no doubt a result of my previous actions- this is Karma. I would like to clear up all my Karma in this lifetime so that I do not have to return. I have done some bad things in this lifetime and I suffer because of them. However, I am more mindful today than I was a few years ago. Now, whenever someone does someone says or does something negative to me, I make a conscious choice to absorb the negative and not reflect it. Someone once asked me how I could be so good. I only have one answer to that- that's my purpose in this lifetime. I don't care how badly people treat me, I will not do the same to them or to anyone else. Someone has to stop the cycle of bad karma. I'll swallow the bitter pill because I know that I can bear that pain- I have the strength.I can hold my head high and live knowing that I am a good person.

I remember when I was young, I would protest and cry when my friends and cousins would trample over bugs and insects. I had a heart of gold- somewhere along my lifetime, I hardened and became cynical. But, today, I can say that I've gone to the dark side and returned, and I know what the other side looks like. I'm not stupid or naive- I know when people lie to me, hurt me, deceive me, dupe me, use me. I choose to smile and look past it all- people are beautiful with their flaws and irregularities.

May my mind always be full of purity and kindness towards all beings, so that I can run straight into my Krishna's arms when he pushes the recall button on my life.