RANDOM MUSINGS

I met a Cummins alumnus day before yesterday in office. Her face was one amongst those that just look like someone you know and yet you cant say who. We had never as much as said hello to each other in college. Me in my own world, either in a struggle to decide whether to attend the next lecture or on my way to eat something or making fun of something with Shuchita, and her - either in conversation with one of her friends about how the hell they were going to submit that next practical write up on time, or when they should go to the canteen to get their daily ration of vada pav or some such....

Day before proved to be of little consequence as far as furthuring our aquaintance was concerned. We just smiled ( I couldn't stop) at each other and said oh yes, how we did remember having seen each other. Many people in my office are from Pune - a place I have come to think of as a cherished home. However, it was when I met Rasika that day Cummins floated back to life.

It was one of those days when there s a lull in the mid Monsoon season. Its about 1 in the noon but the air is freshly scented with maybe the wet earth or is just plain fresh and breathable without yet being infected with all the smoke from the 100+ scooters. I am of course, actually riding one of these tamed monsters. There are girls walking around in cottons --yes, there are only girls (!) as I do not care to mention the roadside romeos hanging out outside the yellow gates-- some FEs with their graphics containers with a look of urgency on their faces, and the other "seniors" sipping on tea in Come-In and eating a Maggie/ idli sambar (yup, there is actually a restaurant outside Cummins, called Come In, patronised heavily by kameenees as it also boasts an Internet cafe on the first floor, where you have to sit as its not tall enough for you to stand in!).

Just for the sake of completion, Cummins is an Engineering College for Women affiliated to the University of Pune located in Karvenagar, Pune -52. Its a great place to go to. You may not think so when you are actually there. There are many factors that make your life hell when you re enrolled as one of their students.

I wonder why I feel the sting of the days, of the past -- I am only in my early twenties, yet I feel like, there is a whole lot that I carry with me in my heart that my eyes will not behold again. There is a sense of tremendous loss and hollowness within me juxtaposed with a layer of undefined and new joy slowly wrapping itself about this great well. One of my ancient friends once told me how imagining that he was just a hollow tube and meditating on that made him feel weightless and free of any depression he might have otherwise been feeling. I just feel like depression and joy have found a queerly harmonious way of living in me and the nullifying effect that they have on each constantly creates this hollowness.

There were times in the recent past when in an instant, I was suddenly pulled into the penseive of my thoughts and travelling from one memory to the other. On one of these peregrinations, I was in Valsad - a place I grew up in. Those of you who have grown up close to beaches will know what a vast sense of space and infinite possibilities the sea offers. Ever since I can remember my parents took me to Tithal, a beach of dark black sands washed by grey white brine. On many nights we would pack a dinner and eat below the shimmering Milky Way, amidst the soothing, warm sea breeze. How I feel the rhythmic sound of the ocean fill my ears and how calm I felt thinking of nothing-- nothing at all, and yet so many things there were to think of-- and so much space Tithal offered for all those thoughts!

Now as I age, I feel like my mind is forced to operate and process many threads concurrently and I think I understand better why meditation involves looking and thinking about things in super slow motion. There is just so much that passes you by, if you don't care to look closely and analyse. Here I draw a parallel to Khayal gayaki of Hindustani Classical music with the tortoise paced Dhrupad alap. It was when I started learning Dhrupad that the sudden transition to singing/playing with the tabla that so many artists practice in their recitals became disturbing to me. My Guruji says, " bahut jagah hai" -- there is a lot of space between two notes. "Explore it" -- and truly, when you try and sing alap with a limited set of notes, you realise how deep the notes really go, how different they really sound in two Raags. This is also the reason I feel soothed and calmed when I listen to Guruji perform. It is not music that you can listen to while you are driving or doing anything other than trying to understand what he is conveying to you. This stuff keeps you in the present, explores how dynamic 'the present' really is. The idea of conveying music in this way is very similar to a technique of meditation which involves watching your breath. Chanting the name of God or anything positive that can help you clear your mind of thoughts in between two breaths only helps one realise his/her present state -- physical, and mental.

All spiritual paths talk about overcoming duality and reaching a state of oneness. Eastern religions commonly talk about renunciation in order to reach a state of superconsciousness. They also point out that language cuts down multiple dimensions of reality. Therefore, in a certain configuration of limited dimensions, this idea of renunciation means to live in this moment. To not be attached to the past in a way that you are bonded to it, but grow because of it and look at the present with an improved vision.

The idea makes a lot of sense to me, much more so when I recall a phrase from Paramahansa Yogananda's writings -- you only choose to reflect good or bad qualities -- you are not characterised by these, because "You" cannot be described with the limited set of tools, that include language. Might this be a reason why that hollowness within, feels so ponderous, I wonder. That it is just one aspect of something, that demands greater attention and time to reveal its complete nature.

--will let you know in this space when I discover -- or maybe it will not be possible to put it in words!