Letting Go

Growing up and letting go,
Flowing like the clear stream,
From tip of the fall,
To the vast ocean,
Life is all about letting go.

The seed in the soil,
Lets go to the sapling supple,
Innocent, soft, and naive.
The sapling lets go to the huge firm tree,
Giving shade to the travelers weary.
The tree lets go her flowers and the fruits,
And then after years of giving,
She lets go herself to the Mother Earth,
Mingling to the dust, from where she came.
Letting go for another seed, another sapling,
Fruits and Flowers anew,
With colors more vibrant,
And songs more melodious and novel.

The infant lets go to be the toddler,
The toddler lets go to the teen,
The teen, to the adult, and then to the old.
Finally all lets go to the finality of death,
Just to open up new possibilities,
Of new generation, better and more beautiful.

The whisper of the hidden hopes of the expectant dawn,
Lets go to the crimson quietness of the tired dusk,
The throbbing heart of arduous passion,
Lets go to the awareness of the transience to unfurl,
Into the cold spread of the reality of pain.

In this game of letting go,
Its exciting to be part of the roller coaster,
Letting go the hope, equally with fear.
Letting go acceptance, equally with rejection.
Letting go pride, equally with embarrassment.
Letting go all that a man can have,
Letting go all that a man can be.

It is that surrender to the mere suchness,
The suchness that I was when I was born.
The suchness, that I will be when I die.
The suchness, that I was always before I existed.
The suchness, that I will be eons after I die.

All this play is a transient rising tide.
It will rise, and then gain fall,
Mingling into the eternal train of the line of eternity.
Nothing matters,
At the same time,
All that is - Is just this. And nothing else.

In this practice of letting go,
Somewhere deep inside my heart,
A deep ridge is sown,
With love, understanding, compassion, openness and courage.
In this breaking apart in openness and surrender,
I absorb the nectar of being alive,
In all its color, sound, smell and appearance,
Knowing for the first time, every moment,
Yet again and again,
Who am I, and who am I not.
Engulfing the eternal expanse of life,
Within me, All that his human, All that is life.
Both in its exquisite zenith of inspiration,
And it its darkest nadir of existence.

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The Rendezvous with the Eternal

In his studio ancient,
With hammer, chisel and his family of tools,
Was Simoni working on his art.

Around him were sculptures he made long back,
There were men, women, tigers, and tulips.
All in white deeply gazed Simoni busy at his work.

Suddenly Simoni was distracted with the angry gaze,
Of the tiger and the rhino.

And the eyes of disdain,
From countenance of stale old statues of men and women.

Surprised at the anger and hatred, he looked deep into their eyes,
Trying to make out the reason.


Looking into the eyes of the tiger and the rhino,
Simoni, observed in him the ebb and flow
The spasm of the pain of rejection.
Discerning deeper, found he a deep seated need,
Deep down his heart,
To be embraced in the all accepting warm embrace.
He found in him, the infantile craving of a motherly hug -
A symbol of acceptance and love.

Taken aback was he,
To confront face to face,
His weak, emotional need - his handicap.
And that superstition of meeting that need
From the tiger and the rhino in marble.
He was like a child looking out for a crutch.


Then suddenly hit him the wind of the fragrance of acceptance,
From the tulip, silently watching him in adoration, by the side.

He felt immensely comforted by the solace of kinship,
He was wallowing in the wave of love.
He felt strong and happy.
Discerning deeper again he was stunned at this new found strength,
The strength which was just an incarnation of a deep seated weakness.
A weakness of the ardor to be accepted,
From one and all, and the tulip included.
It was again that weakness of a longing of embrace of love.

And then, once established in that strength,
He could sense the tinkling of the hope,
A hope of a constant adoration from the tulip.
And then there was fear hidden under the hope,
"Hope she never leaves me alone"

In all his unrest with the gaze of the tiger and the rhino,
The amorous advances of the tulip,
And the disdaining looks from the stale old men and women,
He discovered the barriers in him,
That was crippling him and weakening him,
That was obstructing him to become fully who he is.

The barriers would get dissolved when he is deep in his work.
When deep into his art of chipping away those extras from the marble rock,
To shape it to the most beautiful angel,
He remembered there was that infinite wave of love,
That he created within himself,
Out of his skill, passion, creativity, and toil.
He remembered that the Eternal Loving Embrace
Was already within him,
And he was the source of that,
All along his journey of creation.
He was the source, and the world was just a reflection.

He realized that neither the beauty of the tulip
Was dependent on his adoration of her,
Nor, his sense of being loved and accepted,
Was dependent on the whim of the tulip.
For that the hatred in the eyes of the tiger and rhino,
Might be self created, or the objective truth out there,
But that does not matter to him,
As he is already fulfilled in love and acceptance,
Creating that wave of passion for himself, and his art,
Deep inside his heart.

No, Simoni is not indifferent to the tiger of the tulip.
Simoni, stands in acceptance and love,
For all around him.
He might not be fraternal,
He might not be part of the group.
But, he stands there entirely fulfilled,
With no needs, but a bag full of gifts,
Gifts of love, acceptances, compassion, respect, humility, and wonder.

He returns to his sculpture,
In white he was chipping the bosom of the angel,
Being able to see through the beautiful heart of hers,
Beneath the luscious curves.
An angel who was his heart, his creativity, his passions, personified.
Who was bright, youthful and brimming with joy.
The angel was in no need.
But was existing only to give.
For she was the Simoni's fulfilled and Joyous Heart.

Simoni went in trance,
Amidst the sound of his chisel,
And the softness of the presence of the angel,
Deeply engrossed in his work and toil,
He had a passing thought -
Was this the Rendezvous with the Eternal?

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The Love of the Pond

Under the open blue sky,
Center of the dreamlike green meadow,
There lies the solitary Pond.
An old soul is he,
Older than
All the lands happy and sad,
All the fun and melancholy,
All the exhilarations and heart break,
All ups and downs,
Right there he sits,
Meditating - still and silent.
With his heart brimming with -

His love for the bright yellow Lotus,
His ardor for the luscious pink water lilly,
His limitless care for the swans swimming,
His affection for the wriggling schools of fish,
His longing for that special fairy from the heavens,
Beyond the stars and all starry noises of the tranquil dark sky.

He knows all his love,
Will never be his.
For his love is bigger than his embrace.
And his love is too alive to be an object of his possession.
For his love is infinite.
Taking forms innumerable,
Sometimes in form of a song, or a poem,
Or might be just a gush of calm breeze,
Caressing his body with all her affection and love.

His love stands in that tranquil presence,
Close to his heart,
In manifestations countless outside,
But just only one - deep within his heart,
His love, and his being,

Two - always entwined with each other,

Deep bonded, without any crack of anything visible.

His love is an expression of life.
Which expresses herself all around,
In forms countless,

In myriads form and colors,

In countless voices and symphonies.

But, unknown is his love,
Of that eternal longing of the Pond,
For her and only her.
For she is herself,
Eternally busy with her dance,
With the countless of loves of her own!

Decorating the fabric of the world,

With hues of a thousand rainbows.

All deeply in love, 

The yellow Lotus, the pink Lilly, the swans, and the fish.

The Heavens, and the Earth.
Being in that space of peace,
Celebrate the beauty of life!

All are unaware of the silent, solitary and still Pond. 

Under the open blue sky,

Center of the dreamlike green meadow,

An old soul,

Older than
All the lands happy and sad,
All the fun and melancholy,
All the exhilarations and heart break,
All ups and downs.

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Blessing of the Fakir

The fakir, wanders the barren land,

Down the rocky ways, meandering streams,
Lost in the world of the music of his poems.

He watches the vastness of the blue sky,
The generosity of the great Banyan tree,
The acceptance of the Mother Earth,
The carefree stream of loitering water,
The passionate tides and tireless ocean,
Mesmerized is he to feel his Lord,
Invisible through all that is manifest!

Amazed is he, just to be in the presence,
Of that limitless Being,
Invisible, but so real.
Continuously claiming herself,
To each of the patient eye,
Each longing heart!

What else I want,
Utters the Fakir,
The nearness of my Beloved - my Lord.
So close you art with me,
For I see you in me, and me in you!

The Fakir blesses his Love - his Lord,
For being so alive, dancing with life,
In forms unlimited,
From the small acorn,
To the giant oak tree.
From the thin trickle of stream,
To the limitless ocean,
From the darkest nights,
To the brightest days.
All manifesting in multitude,
Just the One.

Quietly the Fakir lies down on the footpath,
With a smile in his face,
Relaxing in the bosom of the Mother Earth,
Caressed by the beloved Moonlight,
Cuddled by the fleeting sensuous breeze.
Lost in the intoxication of his love,
He partakes another journey in the world of his dreams.
But as in the world of matter,
So in the world of his dreams,
His beloved is always with him,
His love - His Lord!

The fakir, wanders the barren land,
Down the rocky ways, meandering streams,
Lost in the world of the music of his songs.
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The Fakir's Symphony

The warrior amidst the battle, singing the song of the Truth.
Playing the symphony eternal,
There he strolls carefree - The Fakir.

With dirt on his clothes, hair in shambles,
Mud and dust on his face, dried is his throat,
But continues he sings, the song of his heart.
There he strolls - The Fakir.

All the twinkling stars up in the sky
And the curious Moon shining up high,
Wonders at the mystery hidden in his heart,
Giving way to the symphony and the Profound Trance!
There he strolls - The Fakir.

In the fond remembrance was he,
Meandering the memory lanes
Of those ageless stories of truth,
Which all think just folklores,
Those momentous sighs of the longing heart,
Which men dismiss just as gush of breath.
Those lightness of the naive heart,
Believing the illusion for the truth!
There he strolls - The Fakir.

Ages and eons passed by
For he was looking for his Beloved, out there in the world,
Trying to snatch and have that shadow for himself,
Only for himself - To have her for ever.
For sure he bumped upon idols, temples, signs and posts.

He mistook them for his Beloved.
Sometimes he believed he got Her. But then, she was again gone.
Like that luscious mirage eluding the thirsty traveller.

Till the Fakir, on one of those solitary strolls,
Lost in his fantasy of his Beloved,
Bumped onto his song! His own song!
From the inner chords of his own heart,
With the accompaniment of the beauty his own mind.
Now the Fakir strolls as the creator,
Eternally bonded in love with his beloved.
Invokes he, his Damsel,
At any time, at any place.
For he knows, his Beloved and he is One.
There is nothing outside there,
But all is within - Here and Now
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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

A Valentine Day Wish

Venus - By Sandro Botticelli - 1486

Here is my heartiest wish to you,
On this special day dedicated to Love, Just Love.

May the sail of Compassion and Love,
Always guide your boat through the ruthless waves of life.

May you discover that wonderful person in you.
May you always be your most loved valentine,
Even if the whole world looks down on you.

For I have known, it is impossible to know one,
Without the eyes conditioned in love,
The mind guided with empathy,
The heart garbed in compassion.

May you never cease to be in love,
Even if you are stoned to death.
For life has no meaning without love.

May you know for sure,
Whatever appears devoid of love,
Is just a farce, No matter how convincing it appears.

May you always express your love,
For the rose wilts away in dark,
It needs the light of the world,
To shine and spread its fragrance.

It is only when you sing your song aloud,
You recognize your own voice.
Singing out your love,
Would make you present to your own love.

When you plant a wish,
When you have a thought,
Nourish it with only love, and nothing else.
It is only love, that is real,
All else is just illusion.

May you always remember,
It is more important to be kind, than to be right.

May you always take things in your own pace.
No matter how fast or slow others are.

May you do what you think is right,
No matter who tells, it is wrong.

May you have the perspective,
That Love is a desperate search
In the eyes of others,
That what is most special in yourself.

May you be one with your Valentine -
Your own special and unique self.
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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The Futile Struggle

That struggle to bring Her into form,
That sense of awe,
That feeling of likeness,
That solace in heart,
Is a futile errand.


Each time I attempt to put in words,
That inspiration, or that ecstasy,
Each time I try to bring into color,
That wish, that dream,
Each time, I try to sing
That unsung desire.
All what comes to form,
Is not that inspired in the first place.
All in the world of form,
Appears just a metaphor of
The real Invisible.


I think with awe, about the masters bygone,
Who could bring into reality,
Their love, their vision,
From the labyrinths of hidden darkness,
To the light of the day.


Why then I can't carve out my Love,
That inspiration, that enchantment, that Divine,
In my poems, in my song, in my life?


I know the struggle is futile.
But I shall keep trying.
May be this is what life is for me.
Being in the journey of a disciple,
Lovelorn for the Ideal,
Trying to see her in my poems,
Trying to feel her in my songs.


For one day for sure,
Before I cease to exist in form,
Before mingling into the invisible again,
May be I would have found her,
My Ideal, My Lord.
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Prayers from a rustic soul

In the trance, here I stand,
With my words, my letters, and the invisible Inspiration.
For I know these are not just words,
But are prayers, from rustic soul!

Held strong is the connection,
Since millennia days, and seasons,
With the thread of love. Just Love.

Love for that all inclusive humanity.
Where there is nothing which is alien.
Where there is no separation,
But just unity and fraternity.

In that deep bond, held I am ever strong.
Grounded in faith, and friendship to one and all.
A space shared by all,
Where all belong to me, and I belong to all.

For sure, we are not all same,
For better we differ!
Different shades of the rainbow,
We all are,
But sharing the same sky,
The same space,
We hold each other by hand,
Stand shoulder to shoulder,
Arching the sky from one horizon to the other.

In the trance, here I stand,
With my words, my letters, and the invisible Inspiration.
For I know these are not jus words,
But are prayers, from a rustic soul!
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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The Journey of Love

In love was born a little but an infinite and immortal soul.
Eons ago, when there was no creation around.
What simply existed was silence and darkness dead.


The Soul was in love.
He was in his journey eternal,
To see, hear, smell, touch and taste,
That part in him that he priced the most!
That he could see as a reflection,
In his love for his lady with the most beautiful eyes.


Didn't know he about his beloved.
But just he could have some apparition
Here and there, sometimes in his dreams,
Sometimes when fully awake,
His Beloved playing hide and seek,
Either in the blossoms of the spring,
Or the wetness of the monsoon.


In that journey, he discovered for himself,
The ever bright assertive rising Sun,
The soft and silvery mellow Moon,
The ecstatic wild arduous oceans,
The still, meditative mountains high.
Strangely all seemed to be in love,
Craving to embrace in all their passion,
There own personal love,
In the best way they could.


Millions of years did pass away,
The ever youthful soul,
Still looks for his beloved,
In his eternal journey,
Finding for himself,
The reflection of his love -
In those most beautiful eyes,
In those luscious trembling petal like lips.
Hanging from the edge of time,
Like the dew drop from the tip of the leaf green,
Passes the soul from one form to the other,
Covering centuries, millennia and eons,
Sailing in the curved continuum of time and space,
Looking out for his lady love -
Those most beautiful eyes.


That eternal journey,
Is the soul engrossed in,
Discovering his love,
Thus knowing himself better.


His love gave rise to the flora and fauna,
And all the humanity,
Held together in the bond of love,
Ever growing all around,
Extending the silver lining of that immortal love.


Each time today,
When a child gasps at the Grand Canyon,
Or wonders at the rapturous Niagara,
When he looks wonderstruck onto the starlit sky,
With the twinkle in his eye,
Knows he not,
All are just reflection of the love of the little soul,
His love for his lady with the most beautiful eyes.


Transcends the love of the little soul,
From the tiniest insect to the blue whale,
Extending all over the oceans, deserts, mountains and plains,
Throbs his love with ever renewed passion,
To see, to know and to embrace,
His Beloved deep inside in the temple of his heart.

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The perfect place in the world

The perfect place in the world,
For me is my study,
With open books all around,
With book marks reminding a train of revolution on hold,
Waiting to be synthesized
With thoughts ancient, new and unique,
Creating a world beautiful, in real!
For today, tomorrow, and through eternity.
With my pen, my computer,
This beautiful mind and heart,
Working through the ideas of masters many,
Spending hours trying to grasp their ideas,
Their passions, their inspirations.


The perfect place in the world,
For me is my study,
Sitting on the recliner,
With closed eyes,
Reflecting upon the power of human mind,
Creating the expressions as creatively breathtaking,
As the Vedas,
And as heinous and derogatory as the Holocaust!
And then following the chain of the civilization,
And gasping at the magical train
Of Human ingenuity, holding as silver lining,
The hope of an inspiring future!
Inspired with the undaunted spirit of human expression,
Defeating on its way all the anomalies and aberrations.

The perfect place in the world,
For me is my study,
Meditating with gratitude,
At precious heritage of human history,
At the unique point when I am alive,
Working tirelessly,
Towards communicating,
The creative legacy of the human race,
To myself, and the world.

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

http://karconversations.com

Happy New Year 2013

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Come back Everyone.

Come, lets sing aloud -

Krishna nee begane baro
Krishna nee begane baro
Darkness coming round
And everybody fighting with their brothers
Everybody wants control
Don't hesitate to kill one another

So come back as Jesus
Come back and save the world
That's all the future
Of every boy and girl
Come back as Rama
Forgive us for what we've done
Come back as Allah
Come back as anyone

Krishna nee begane baro
krishna nee begane baro

Religion is the reason
The world is breaking up into pieces
Colour of the people
Keeps us locked in hate please release us
hmm..

So come down and help us
Save all the little ones
They need a teacher
And you are the only one
We can rely on
To build a better world
A world that's for children
A world that's for everyone


Krishna nee begane baro
Krishna nee begane baro

Time is the healer
Time moves on
Time don't wait for anyone
You tell you'll be back
But that will take some time
I'm waiting...
ahh......
I'm waiting...
Waiting...
I'm waiting...

I'm waiting
Yea.... Yea...
Come back as Jesus
Come back and save the world
We need a teacher
You are the only one
Come back as Rama
Forgive us for what we've done
Come back as Allah
Come back as anyone

Krishna nee begane baro
Krishna nee begane baro

Jesus!
Come back and save the world
That's all the future
Of every boy and girl
Come back as Rama
Forgive us for what we've done

Come back as Allah
Come back for everyone

All you need is Love. Love is all you need.

All you need is love
Love is all you need.

An open mind in compassion,
Grounded in humility and
But free with the passion to know and grow.

A stance centered on the spirit of freedom,
On mutual respect and love.
Poised to learn from the human heritage,
And build on top of it -
A new tomorrow,
Carrying forward the legacy of human race.

It is not about being a rebel.
Neither it is about being fraternal.
It is about being in the grace,
Of who you are,
Standing in respect but not
Necessarily in agreement to the other.

It is not about who is right,
It is not about who is wrong.
Rather it is about,
What is more beautiful for you,
What is more natural for you.
What is the Truth.

This video was made by Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady.

They are New York-based documentary filmmakers. Their forthcoming film “The Education of Mohammad Hussein,” which is on the short list for the Academy Award for short-subject documentary, is to be broadcast on HBO in 2013. Their previous Op-Doc was “Dismantling Detroit.”

Coming to Andrea

The dawn was about to break,
Simoni woke up and looked to the far horizon,
The horizon which was silver lined
With the silhouettes of men and women,
From the mystical land of Andrea.

The twinkle of the stars were fading out,
Into the glow of the Sun.
The fresh light cascading from east,
Gradually was camouflaging the twinkling story of the night forgone.

It was a new morning,
And Simoni was about to reach the
Legendary land of Andrea.
The journey was long and arduous,
A journey of 101 nights,
Nights of storm, solitude, battles, and pains.
All alone, walking the solitary journey of abandonment.
Along the sand dunes and the meandering westerly wind.

The journey has ended or just begun,
Simoni did not know.
Just was that he aware,
At last with his weak and old eyes,
He could see the huge gate to the land of Andrea.

He was in search of someone,
Knew the sky, the stars and the Sun.
Was well aware the gushing ocean,
The meandering stream,
The restless fall.

Unheeded to all the inquisition,
Of the nature and its ways,
Simoni kept walking,
Unfazed and undaunted.

Had he to visit
The 7 castles,
And ask the 7 dames and 7 knights,
Looking for his love, his true love
The lady with the most beautiful eyes.

(To be continued)

Previous poems of Michel Simoni - 
http://criativ-mind.blogspot.com/search/label/SIMONI%20SERIES

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

A Christmas Wish

Here is a wish for you this Christmas,

From my truest self I know.

That you may do what you really are,

With freedom, courage and love,

And that there is fire always kindled within you.

The fire that you already are.

May the music of your heart,

Come out before you close your eyes.

Before mingling into the nothingness,

May you reclaim who you are.

That you may be wise,

But more importantly kind.

That you may be successful,

But more importantly overwhelmed in love.

May you be prosperous,

And yet, not lose the bond,

With the rain, the moon, and the star.

And not forget to smile, and to say Hello.

That in the bustle of who is right,

And what is more reasonable and correct,

May you not lose your own true self,

No matter how unreasonable and incorrect you are.

May in the rat race of following the herd,

You be left out,

And re-kindle that basic instinct,

To follow your heart,

Taking the road less travelled. 

That you be the change maker,

Being the harbinger of beauty,

The best version of that original masterpiece,

That you already are.

May you endlessly

Always continue to Be,

Expressing that authentic being who you are,

Either with a smile, a hug, a kiss or a pat, 

Or may be with a poem, a song...or a tear.

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Sky above, Earth below, Fire Within

What an opportunity it is with,

Sky above, Earth below, and Fire Within!

And glowing in that fire,

you see anything is possible

You see opportunity when others see impossibility

You take risks. You are focussed. 

You hustle, you are restless,

You  know that nothing is unrealistic

And glowing in that fire,

You feel overwhelming love!

You embrace your childlike wonder and curiosity

You take flying leaps into the unknown

You  contribute to something bigger than yourself

And glowing in that fire,

You create. You learn. You grow. You do. You be.

You believe it's never too late to start living a dream.

And glowing in that fire,

You reclaim your humanity 

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Essentials are Invisible - A Thought Experiment

Life is short. Senses are limited. Time is fleeting. Challenges are many. Distraction are innumerable. 

In this predicament of human life, it is essential to realize two things primarily - 

1. An awareness of what is essential and what is not, and 

2. The Essentials are invisible.

It certainly is of prime importance not to spend this precious life in non-essentials. But the dilemma is how to create that insight to spot the essential, and discard the non-essential. I think to be able to overcome this challenge, one has to deal with both the points above simultaneously. One leads to the other. I guess there would not be any prescription to follow to be aware of what is essential and not. But certain examples below might be able to put certain instances on the table. 

For example for a warrior, the actual fighting is non-essential. What is essential is the cause he is standing for. 

For an original painter, the canvas, or the brush is not non-essential. They are dispensable. He can switch to any better brush or medium. Rather what is essential is the idea he is trying to paint.

In a relationship, the personalities involved are non-essential. But what is essential is the invisible virtue of understanding, compassion, kindness, empathy that binds two personalities. Moment the fabric of these invisible essentials are broken, the relationship tears apart. Again the same personalities might enter into similar relationships with others. But then the fabric that is essential for any relationship remains the same. Personalities change - non-essentials are ever changing. But what is essential remains the same.

For a writer the medium he uses to write is non-essential. The language he uses is non-essential. But what is essential is that invisible archetype he is dealing with in his mind and heart. It is that experiment he is having in his mind, that commotion happening in his heart, leading him to write, resulting in the flow of a poem or a novel, is what is essential.

It is interesting to observe the amount of time and energy we squander on non-essentials. The endless pursuits to have more power, money, fame, friends, well wishers, kinships, etc that man engages in, appears non-essential to me. These aspects of daily life are just mere reflections of something invisible which is totally from a different plane. Rather than focusing on the source, we get distracted into the dissipated reflections of that. We spend time in the questing of having more and more the artifacts of something at source. That source emanates from our own being. It arises from our own understanding, our own heart and mind. I am not hinting a way to solitary exclusion. Certainly it might be a way for some. But it is not necessarily the most optimum way for all, atleast not for me, for sure. These dry artifacts are important for me. But along with having these dry artifact, the awareness that these are non-essential, and they link to something which is at core, which is invisible, is at heart of things.

Many great thinkers have spent most of their lives in figuring out a way to be centered into this invisible essential - the source. One effective way the ancient civilizations invented for themselves, to solve this existential problem, might have been the creation of the idea of God, and developing the capacity of man to concentrate on that Ideal. What might be more apt than to have a concrete projection of an Archetype in form of a personal God-head,  or an abstract idea. At least there is a point in which a person can refer to when she wants to relate to those essentials.

But, I think, this whole creative experiment defeats itself, when this idea of God is treated in exclusion to daily living. When God is treated a separate entity from one's own self, and one's own actions, and the innumerable interaction one has with others, in one's daily life. When God limits Himself to that small corner in one's living room, or a building in exclusion, one calls a temple, He fizzles out to the domain of non-essential. The whole purpose and the toil of all the ancient masters get defeated. I think that one-pointed focus on the essential, should be maintained in one's daily activities, and voluntarily one has to exclude from her awareness the non-essentials.

I try to practice it at my work, and personal life. Yes, I fail multiple times. But, again I try to stand up, shirk off the dust, and start walking again on the path. I think the key is - Finding out the essential, and one pointed concentration on the essential. At work, the issue at hand, the problem being faced is essential, and anything and everything coming our way piggybacking the issue are non-essentials. 

Even when dealing with work and life, work becomes non-essential, and life is what is essential. To clarify, I have experienced people who kill life in name of work. By killing life I mean, for them there is no room for compassion, kindness, empathy, love, joy, respect, loyalty, or humanity, when it comes to work. Humans become just a means, a resource, a robot to churn out a result. If the result does not meet a pre-determined expectation, the doer is considered worthless. The dignity of a person is attached to how much capital is created by the person, or how much productivity gain is produced by the person, and how much the person has been able to make a corporation's cult which is given fancy names as "Operating Systems" or "Standard Operating Procedures".  It is interesting to see that many times,  we are incapable to differentiating a man from his role, or artifact he produces out of an action he is forced to do at his job. 

The problem remains the same. It is about being distracted with the non-essential, and losing the sight of the essential.

To simplify, I carry with myself a logo to remind me every moment of the essential. For me the essential is - Love. It is fraternity, compassion, understanding, respect, objectivity, friendship, individuality, and respecting that sacred space for the self, and the other. 

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The Space

Walking to Andrea,

In that solitary walk,

Across the desert,

In the scorching heat

Thirsty Simony,

Could see no life around.

Times were tough,

Abandoned was he,

Walked uphill across the sand dunes,

Simoni was all alone.

With no caring shade,

With no drop of quenching water,

With no shoulder to rest.

Was he all alone,

Walking up to Andrea.

With every stride ahead,

There were more unknown,
There were more thorns and uphills.

There was more solitude,
There were more challenges.

Tired was he,

Defeated and wronged was he.

But his spirit was young,

Undaunted and brimming full

With sacredness and Love.

For he had created a Space.

A Space around him.

That guarded his soul,

Away from all that is evil,

Away from all that is dark.

Away from all that is in-humane.

The Space was a canvas for his brush,

It was the marble for his chisel,

It was that empty arena,

Where he could compose his own note.

In that Space,

Kept Simoni creating,

The symphony of Love, Faith, and Hope.

With the power of that Symphony,

Kept he walking, on and on.

For all, what appeared

were the wrinkled skin,

the gray hair, the white beard,

The parched feet.

But deep inside

Was a brimming fountain of life,

Of understanding, Of compassion, Of love.

Deep inside was the ever youthful self,

Guarded by his Space,

Working to see God,

With every passing moment in his life,

Either through his sculptures,

Or his paintings, or his songs.

Centered was Simoni on the Ideal,

On the Archetype, on the Beauty.

Kept he on, his journey to Andrea.

He did not know what would he find

Upon reaching Andrea.

But he knew for sure.

It was the journey, and not the destination,.

Giving him the opportunity to see

His Truth, His God, His Love.

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The Power of Love

When Rumi had sang
On the  power of love,
In myriad songs of his,
I had a taste of it intellectually.
But little did I know
What that power really was.

 
When I had read of the big bang,
I had an appreciation of
That incredible power
Behind the big bang.
But little did I know
How that power really feels.

 
When I was told
About the power of worship.
I had an understanding of the holy,
And was aware that such grandeur strength
Does exists somewhere.
But little did I know
How that power really uplifts.

I had read about
The healing touch of Jesus.
But never could relate
To the ecstasy of the blind
Who got the vision from his touch.

But O dear magical Presence,
That power is within me.
The power of your love,
The power that can raise a dead man
The power that can turn water to wine
The power that can turn an acorn to the high oak.
 

Thank you
For bestowing in me
The power of thou love.
It feels like unlimited,
Always with power,
Always like a Man.
Steadfast and True
Standing the storm of life
Unfazed, and undaunted.

Thank you for showing me
The glimpse of what it is
To be a Man
To be a Knight
To be a Warrior.
 
Yes, it all is in the
Power of your love.
My Lord.

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Upending the cost Structure. Do you have any input?

Upending the cost structure. Do you have any input?

Capitalism requires someone to create a commodity, and someone to buy it. The hidden link that connects the whole drama is money. There is a cost structure on which the empire of capitalism is built on. The aim of a capitalistic endeavor is to generate more capital. It is good to create more capital. It drives the economy. The issue is the cost structure on which the framework is built on.
This efficiently bars away people who are in dire need of a product or service but could not afford to buy it. World is today rocking and rolling intoxicated with the opium of capitalism. It has worked for decades. But that does not mean it will keep working for centuries to come. Signs have started showing up of innovative business models outside of the precincts of capitalism.
The most interesting experiment is that of the Google. I want to discuss in this article a very popular experimentation of Google - The Google Maps. Till a decade back, maps were all copyrighted, and the market was monopolized by companies like Garmin making GPS devices helping people to navigate. Garmin charges about $100 to download new maps to its device. One device costs about $200-$500. Sometimes even more.

Now compare all this with the Google Maps. And the latest feature in Google Maps to download any portion of the maps to your device, and use them offline. So, today you have a free GPS device which is way much more advanced than any Garmin device. And all these services are free. You can download the Google Map in your phone (of course if it is not running in the latest IOS) or your any other hand held device.

The most interesting thing is you can notice that cost of the service is no more the indicator of the quality of the service or the product. The free google map is any time better than the expensive maps you download from Garmin. So, here is something that is free and better. In the language of economics, you have something whose "value" is expressed independent of its "exchange value". And that the product or the service could be really sustained without an exchange value, you see.

Can such experiment be done in education? Can we upend the cost structure inherent in providing quality education? Can a free education provided to millions be if not better, as good as that provided by the Harvards and the Stanfords?

A question, many social entrepreneurs are trying to find an answer. Do you have any input?

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