A Return Gift From The Birthday Baby

Dear GFs,

Want to read my middle on an actress arrested for prostitution?

Go to the thread My Middle In Deccan Herald.

Love,
sridhar

 

Dear Sowparnika,
When you are prepared for a gift and you get it, it's not a real gift. I tell you, Sowparnika, real gifts come to us when we are least prepared for them.
We have been trapped in conventional thinking for centuries. Ever since our great grandfather days, its taboo to talk about death. And even now children are not encouraged to talk about death.
And we are so cruel to tell a child who has lost his mother that "God has taken his mother" The child will start hating its mother and more so it will start hating God Herself. And we are killing all possibilities for the spiritual development of the child.
We are all born out of love and when our sojourn in this planet ends merge back into love. When they talk about Osho's date of birth and death, they say that he visited this planet between <date of birth> and <date of his death>
Tagore also said that death is not the extinction of the small light within, but the merger of that small light into a infinitely bigger light.

thanks a lot sowparnika.

I am proud of your dad, He has initiated you properly in the business of life. My grandmother or aunt (I don't remember) used to tell me the nachiketas story. It's a very poignant story. Nachiketas' father gives worthless animals as gift and the boy is confused, what's the use of giving these animals as gifts. From that point the story starts to teach us many things in life. The most precious truth of the story is this: Yama offers the boy almost eternal happiness in heavan, surrounded by beautiful women, wine flowing and so on. Yet the child is determined to know about death. Knowledge about death, the story tells, is much more valuable than a life full of happiness.

Thanks Sowparnika for the detailed fb.
regards,

 

Dear Chithra,
Who else but you can reply a poem with a poem? Nice piece.
love,
sridhar

 

My dear sri,
Though I deliberately chose GF to mean a good friend, I can't deny that I have a thrill in calling these ladies my "girl friends" (Hope by DW does not read this) And I just cunningly used the argument to lure you into this discussion. And I got the added bonus of "senile ramblings" happening right inside here.

I had been impressed by the tag line you were using sometime back, "live respected and die regretted" which is a real jewel which we use when we present the jewel for service to masonry.

thanks sri. That is the starting point of all philosophy, anything spiritual. And Carl Sagan once proved that death came in only with sex. Surprised? He tells us that in the earliest stage of evolution we were some unicellular bacteria which divides itself into two after a while. That division was the only way of multiplication, and propagation of the species. Surely there could not be any death at that level, but for some mishaps.
But there was no evolution happening then. By some accident the male and female specie came into existence and sexual relationship started. That paved way for the mutation of the genes and evolution of the species. Death came as the next stage of evolution.

And I owe it to our Movement which gave me ultimate lessons on death and dying. Attending a funeral lodge gave me more insights into death than reading a hundred books.

I will have these words framed and exhibit it in our drawing room.

You are right. As there are no nerve endings in the brain, it has no way to feel any pain if it is hurt. You should read Phantoms in the Brain by Prof Ramachandran which talks all about the miraculous powers of human brain.

You are most welcome. And thanks for the kind words which I take it as your blessings.

love,
sridhar

 

hello sathya,
my poem being appreciated by a lady who writes all her responses as poems, is surely a great thing.
An old relative I know always used to tell me, "sridhar, I am going to die soon. You see I am 80 plus."
Once I told him on his face, "Being 80 plus you are no way closer to death than a 20 year old young man. Death can happen to any one at any time."
We have got some very conventional ideas about life and philosophy and we don't want to go beyond them. And that's our greatest problem.
Another conventional thought is that you should read Bhagavad Gita when you are retired. In those days in the farewell parties they used to gift Bhagavad Gita book, a walking stick and a wall-clock. How absurd!
The very next morning, the retiree, who would have worked actively for 30, 40 years, will sit down with Bhagavad Gita, after a heavy breakfast. What will happen? He'll fall asleep soon.
Gita is to be read during action. It was expounded in the warfront when Arjuna was standing exactly in the firing line. Only when one reads Gita when he is 30, he can read it when he is 60.
And another such convention is to talk about death only when one is 99. (By 99 most, at least 99% of us will be dead and gone) So how to think about, or write about death?
Let's shed those conventions, Sathya. Being able to talk about death anytime only prepares us better for our life.
I can at least agree, if I had written that I want to die now. I am fed up with life. Then whatever you say about the appropriateness of the return gift is relevant. I was just using some poetic format, the popular FAQ format to explain a millionth of what death actually means to us. And what better time to do it than one's birthday? Birthday marks the passing of one more year of life bringing us closer to death by one more year. And that's the time we should think of all these things.

Well, these words are pretty crucial in your response. Death, whether it is our own, or our friend's, gives us "the creeps". And it is precisely to win over these "creeps" that I posted this poem. Winning over death does not mean an eternal life. Winning over death only means winning over the fear of death. And in that direction the imaginary conversation with the angel of death will be of help.
And now I am sure you'll agree that one's birthday is the most appropriate time to think of death and its implications.

thanks a lot, Sathya.

thanks again. For what is manifest is your affection for your friend. I bow down to your love, but hold on to my views.
thanks once again.

regards,

 

In fact, Sundari, I had written the poem two weeks ago and had been waiting for my birthday to post it.
Don't worry this "oosi" will not deflate the balloon. For I know for sure, that your love is not mere gas, to be deflated by a needle. It is a solid rock which will only dent the needle.
love,