The Other Side

I have been meaning to blog for a while about something that I experienced recently and wanted to share but, havent yet managed to organize my days to write ! Meanwhile, I would like to share this story with you. There is nothing new about it and we all probably would have heard about it in several ways, several times over the years whilst doing the tedious job of growing into an adult. Despite this, it is always nice to go back and read that which we subconsciously never acknowledge :)

One day a young Bhuddist on his journey home came to the banks of a wide river.
Starring hopelessly on the great obstacle, he pondered for hours on just how to cross this great barrier.
 Just as he was about to give up his pursuit on the journey, he saw a great teacher on the other side of the river. The young Bhuddist calls over to the teacher, "Oh wise one! Can you tell me how to get to the other side of the river"?
The teachers ponders for a moment, looks up and down the river and yells back,
 "My son, you are on the other side of the river".

A Pinch of Grannyism (3)

Kindness in words creates confidence.
Kindness in thinking creates profoundness.
Kindness in giving creates love.
-Lao Tzu

A Walk Down the Isle

        Thought I should share a recent trip of mine to one of them beautiful isles along the western shores of Scotland. It is called the 'Isle of Arran'. A little wiki knowledge would tell you that its the seventh largest Scottish island and has once been called the 'geologist s paradise' !

       It wasn't exactly the brightest of autumn mornings, nevertheless, a short train ride from  Glasgow brought me to the Ardrossan harbour where I took the ferry across the Firth of Clyde to Brodick bay. Stepping ashore, I was still hoping to catch a glimpse of the sun, but- hey! no signs of it yet. The clouds seemed to be very happily settled over the bay. The idea was to hire a bike and take a ride along the shore line. But giving hunger the priority over finding a bike hire shop, the local shop helped fill my bag with lots of yummy food for the day. Only a few yards away was what I think is the biggest shop on the isle named Bislands. 

       A quick hover around the shop and I got myself a winter warmer..a cap, which I later came to find out from a friend of mine that it makes me look like reindeer ! How much more festive can a person get at this time of the year? As they say, 'Tea to the English is really a picnic indoors', I decided to have my own considering the day is going to be prospectively dull without the sun. It turned out that the cafe in the big shop served the most revolting tea ever [beware, looks can be deceiving].

       

Anyway, after washing it down the throat, the onward journey was to the nearest bike hire. Enroute I came across this eye-catching wooden house. Apparently, the house is owned by a jazz vocalist called Joni Keen and is used an island retreat. The staircase and the wooden carvings were made from oak reclaimed from the very famous Waterloo bridge on river Thames in London dating back to the 1920s! The house truly was a sight in the setting and here's picture for you to see :). The walk got wound around a big golfing area along the shore. Old men, with almost snow-white hair, clad in smart clothes were having a go with their shiny golf clubs. I always wondered how anyone can possibly play golf as it seems so mundane and boring. I would much rather run on the same spot and get some adrenaline rush ! Googling about golf (as I am blissfully unaware of the rules of the game) gave me this funny joke:

One golfer asked his friend, "Why are you so late in arriving for your tee time?"
His friend replied, "It's Sunday. I had to toss a coin between going to church or playing golf."
"Yes," continued the friend, "but that stills doesn't tell me why you are so late."
"Well," said the fellow, "It took over 25 tosses to get it right!"

Moving on, lead me to discover a bunch of hungry ducks eyeing all passers-by curiously to see if they can spare some pennies from their pockets to feed them. There was a little table in the backyard of a house which had a cute card that read, ''50p'' for a pack of duck food. Tempted to get all those feathered friends closer, I got hold of a pack and surprisingly enough, some of them were so used to being fed by humans, they came close enough to eat from my hands. That's me on what I should call 'The Hungry Bridge' having fun. 

Finally after much dilly-dally, I was at the bike shop only to find out that they are closed on Sundays. In this country, Sundays are taken very seriously. To work on a Sunday is sheer stupidity! I dont remember Sundays being taken so seriously back home in India. It is almost the only day of the week when you get to stay late in bed, since Saturdays were mostly school days where I used to study. It is the day of the week where you get to watch your favourite program on tv in the morning (such a luxury) and then have a scrumptious mom-made meal. And the kind of post-meal-sleep-syndrome you would get after all that is definitely like a drug! Heaven ! But what comes after this is not my favourite part, which is, to rush and finish all the extra weekend homework you get handed over without ever having to ask, in great haste, all the while thinking that you can get to bed early and sleep long before the Monday morning blues begin. But, nope, nothing ever went according to plan. You always ended up rushing with homework, scavenging for all the lost notebooks, pens and papers, retiring very late and getting up real early for yet another week ! 

     By this time thankfully, the clouds were clearing up and there was some sun shine for everyone and so the walk continued along bendy footpath onward to the next pit stop where you have the famous Arran cheese shop and Arran aromatics. Tasted a bunch of different cheeses along with oatcakes (yummy) and bagged some  handmade chocolates and cheese for the journey back. After some timely fill-up with chilli beans and couscous that was bought earlier during the day, the trek continued to the next visitors point on the isle- The Brodick Castle. 

This castle can be dated back as far as the Vikings and the setting is staggering - fronted by the sea, bedecked with gardens, surrounded by hills and overlooked by the majestic mountain of Goatfell.

Apparently the name Brodick comes from the old norse words (Norman dialect from the Vikings) which means ''broad bay''. And Arran means ''peaked island'' in Gaelic. The castle gardens are well worth a visit and I bet they would look beautiful in the spring ! But even November seemed to have some lovely blooms for me to share....

Unfortunately, it was almost time to walk back to the bay and catch the ferry before night fell and so I had to save my exploration cap for another day. I would hope to visit more isles along the Scottish shores and share my experience with you in the future. All in all, it was a memorable walk down the isle that I would remember for many days to come.........

Voice of Love..

From T.T.Rangarajan. Thanks for these beautiful words..

When you  can  say  it,  you  say  it. When you are not able to say it, it comes out as tears.  The mind, using the five organs of actions - namely, the hands, legs, vocal cords, anus and genitals, expresses whatever must be expressed. However, when the mind encounters very deep emotions, emotions that are beyond its comprehension, it chooses an alternative channel of expression, which are tears.  People say,  “I  don't  know  why  I  cried  so much?”  In fact, if you know why, you will not cry.  It's only when an experience incapacitates the mind, it comes out as tears. 

If the mind can comprehend the emotion, then it won't come out as tears. Spontaneous tears are the most honest of all human expressions, as the mind isn't involved.  Of course, when I say 'spontaneous tears', I am not referring to the manipulative tears that are caused by a decision in order to serve as an emotional blackmail. When I say 'spontaneous tears' I am referring to involuntary tears.

When you can handle the loss, you talk about it.  When you are not able to handle the loss, it comes out as tears.  When you can express your gratitude, you say it.  When your sense of gratitude is so deep that it is beyond words, tears trickle down out  of  gratitude.  

Holding back tears is painful, causing muscle tension and chest discomfort. Controlling tears makes you sick. The muscle tension required to put on a 'brave' face and to control your tears is responsible for much of your high blood pressure and coronary artery diseases.  Tears that do not find expression through the eyes will cause some other organ to weep, which are the various diseases.  Having a good cry is  a cathartic experience, while suppressing tears create stress.  It is typical for asthma sufferers to report that they do not often cry.  And, after they learn to shed tears the frequency of their asthma attacks reduces. 

Don't be  afraid  to  cry.  Never be ashamed of your tears.  Expressing your tears is vital to mental and physical health. Teaching boys that men do not cry is lying to them about the importance of tears. Women of today, assuming masculine roles in the workplace, have also acquired a masculine style of inhibiting tears. As a result, they are now developing disease patterns similar to that of men's.

The whole concept of keeping a stiff upper lip is a cultural  aberration against the forces of nature.  Tears lubricate the pathway of emotional expression and facilitate release, allowing  the  process  of  healing  to begin.  Tears can bring  emotional absolution  and  relief,  making  you human  and whole  again.  Tears at the right time and in the right place have  such  healing  powers  as  to make them seem almost holy. Tears confirm you are still capable of deep emotions.  Tears reveal you are able  to  feel  deeply.  Tears  simply mean you are still human. If something is worth your love, it is worth your tears.

A Pinch of Grannyism (2)

Confusion, chaos and disorientation do eventually lead to order. All said and done, it is far better to live a life of trial and error, than to lead a life of regrets.

The Sound of One Hand

A conversation with  my mother today lead me to this story... the story of the sound of one hand.
Here is one of the best oxymorons out there...soundless sound ! Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

The Sound of One Hand

The master of Kennin temple was Mokurai, Silent Thunder. He had a little protégé named Toyo who was only twelve years old. Toyo saw the older disciples visit the master's room each morning and evening to receive instruction in sanzen or personal guidence in which they were given koans to stop mind-wandering.

Toyo wished to do sanzen also.

"Wait a while," said Mokurai. "You are too young."

But the child insisted, so the teacher finally consented.

In the evening little Toyo went at the proper time to the threshold of Mokurai's sanzen room. He struck the gong to announce his presence, bowed respectfully three times outside the door, and went to sit before the master in respectful silence.

"You can hear the sound of two hands when they clap together," said Mokurai. "Now show me the sound of one hand."

Toyo bowed and went to his room to consider this problem. From his window he could hear the music of the geishas. "Ah, I have it!" he proclaimed.

The next evening, when his teacher asked him to illustrate the sound of one hand, Toyo began to play the music of the geishas.

"No, no," said Mokurai. "That will never do. That is not the sound of one hand. You've not got it at all."

Thinking that such music might interrupt, Toyo moved his abode to a quiet place. He meditated again. "What can the sound of one hand be?" He happened to hear some water dripping. "I have it," imagined Toyo.

When he next appeared before his teacher, he imitated dripping water.

"What is that?" asked Mokurai. "That is the sound of dripping water, but not the sound of one hand. Try again."

In vain Toyo meditated to hear the sound of one hand. He heard the sighing of the wind. But the sound was rejected.

He heard the cry of an owl. This was also refused.

The sound of one hand was not the locusts.

For more than ten times Toyo visited Mokurai with different sounds. All were wrong. For almost a year he pondered what the sound of one hand might be.

At last Toyo entered true meditation and transcended all sounds. "I could collect no more," he explained later, "so I reached the soundless sound."

Toyo had realized the sound of one hand.

Twilight at Riverview

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Ben A'an, Scotland

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Today's dose of Paulo !

The magic moment

by PAULO COELHO on NOVEMBER 7, 2011

“You have to take risks”- he said.

“We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen.

“Every day, God gives us the sun–and also one moment in which we have the ability to change everything that makes us unhappy.
“Every day, we try to pretend that we haven’t perceived that moment, that it doesn’t exist–that today is the same as yesterday and will be the same as tomorrow.

But if people really pay attention to their everyday lives, they will discover that magic moment.

It may arrive in the instant when we are doing something mundane, like putting our front-door key in the lock.
It may lie hidden in the quiet that follows the lunch hour or in the thousand and one things that all seem the same to us.

But that moment exists–a moment when all the power of the stars becomes a part of us and enables us to perform miracles.”

In “By the river Piedra I sat down and wept”

A Pinch of Grannyism (1)

 '' I am surrounded by good people and when one is surrounded by good people, only good things can happen. Everyone has evil in their hearts, it is what you choose to do with them that matters.. ''

Stars on a string...

Having decided a while ago that Glasgow ought to be one of my favourite cities in the world, it goes without saying how wonderfully nice it can be on a crisp and cold autumn night. Enjoying the roasting aroma of coffee beans wafting through the air, watching those stars strung on a string....it was truly a beautiful November night. I was all the while wishing I could lift those stars, wrap it around me and smile like a dreamy child behind whose eyes the fairies live. How nice it would be to get tangled in those clouds and float away to a faraway place leaving no footprints along the trail.

But for now let me spare the words & leave you with a beautiful song by Guns N' Roses called November rain

Listen to November rain here :)

Lyrics of November Rain – Guns N’ Roses

November Rain – Guns N’ Roses

When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darling’ when I hold you
Don’t you know I feel the same

‘Cause nothing’ lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it’s hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain

We’ve been through this such a long long time
Just trying’ to kill the pain

But lovers always come and lovers always go
An no one’s really sure who’s letting’ go today
Walking away

If we could take the time
to lay it on the line
I could rest my head
Just knowing’ that you were mine
All mine
So if you want to love me
then darling’ don’t refrain
Or I’ll just end up walking’
In the cold November rain

Do you need some time…on your own
Do you need some time…all alone
Everybody needs some time…
on their own

Don’t you know you need some time…all alone

I know it’s hard to keep an open heart
When even friends seem out to harm you
But if you could heal a broken heart
Wouldn’t time be out to charm you

Sometimes I need some time…on my
own
Sometimes I need some time…all alone
Everybody needs some time…
on their own
Don’t you know you need some time…all alone

And when your fears subside
And shadows still remain
I know that you can love me
When there’s no one left to blame
So never mind the darkness
We still can find a way
‘Cause nothing’ lasts forever
Even cold November rain

Don’t ya think that you need somebody
Don’t ya think that you need someone
Everybody needs somebody
You’re not the only one
You’re not the only one