The Waning Smile

The First Flight in the Last Decade

An 18-year-old boarded the plane with doe-eyed wonder. This was her second time aboard and the first time alone. She felt a little nervous. But since it was a short flight, she felt she could face her fears. She slowly moved ahead, found her place and placed the luggage in the cabin above. She moved to the window seat, excitement slowly replacing nervousness.

A middle-aged man came shortly and sat next to her. Their glances met and he smiled. She smiled back and then looked out. As the flight took off, she felt a tickling sensation in her stomach that made her giggle involuntarily.

"Your first flight?" the man next to her spoke. She nodded and both fell silent. As the flight ascended and stabilized, high winds caused turbulence. The pilot came on air and instructed everyone to remain seated. The small aircraft rattled.

"What do you do?" asked the man next to her as she looked out and ahead alternatively, her heart mirroring turbulence outside. He talked about his daughter and enquired about her family. Short anecdotes peppered the conversation, making her laugh and recollect memories from her own short life. When it was time to land, she wondered at how smooth the journey had become once they started talking. She said gratefully, "I really enjoyed myself. Thank you."

He smiled back and said, "I could see you were scared." The two parted ways after picking up the checked in baggage. He remained but a memory, and a pleasant one. From making friends in trains, now she could make acquaintances in the flight. The world seemed filled with kindly souls.

The Decade After

It was an overseas flight and she was a mature adult handling an important portfolio in a media organization. Soon after being seated in the flight, her laptop came out and she started working on the presentation she had to make to a potential advertiser.

She smiled at the woman who sat next to her and the two nodded. She saw the lady take out a book and got curious. "Which one is that?"

The lady mentioned the title, the author and the two were suddenly in the thick of a discussion about books and movies. They discovered other common interests and were laughing and chatting for the next two hours like friends. 

Yes, she too vanished, but her presence had made time fly! The face will be erased from her mind, but she will forever remember the woman gratefully for some wonderful book recommendations that she had followed up on.

Subsequently

The flight from the US back to India was silent like a tomb. Like some insects chirping here and there, some chatted in whispers. A few children's voices could be heard here and there, sometimes crescendoing to a higher pitch but always dipping back. People now had ear phones plugging their ears or eye patches cutting out light. They had movies and web series downloaded on to their system and they delved into the made up stories with great gusto. Before the flight took off, they made calls to people in remote locations. But there was no interes to be amazed by the people around them, their stories or their unique interests and lives.

She herself preferred to catch up with some work or play card and board games. When it was time to leave the aircraft, she realized she hadn't really noticed who was next to her. Each seat was an isolated box, people right next to each other and yet in worlds apart.

In that long journey, she had barely smiled at another soul in the airports or the flights she had taken. The world had shrunk, but the distance between people had grown.

She sighed and got off the plane, smiling softly to herself as she thought of her family just a few doors away. She would go back to her regular routine, glad to be away from strangers who had nothing to give her or to whom she owed nothing.    

Ravana, the Caring Brother(?)

All Surpanakha wanted was to marry Rama or Lakshmana. Was it right of Rama to have her disfigured? Is that dharmic?

Wasn't Ravana a better character? When she petitioned him, he immediately stood up in her defense and took revenge.

Which is dharma - hurting a woman or supporting one? Who is the righteous one here?

Ripples to Whirlpool

Like the gentle breeze

That rustles up the leaves

Like the gentle rain

That runs down from eaves

The Watch That Stopped

"My watch isn't working. I think it just needs a new battery," 87-year-old Father said to his Daughter. She was stepping out for work.

"What do you need a watch for?" she asked sourly. 

He chuckled. "Don't worry if you are over-worked."

She sighed and smiled, feeling bad already about her irritability. "I will see what I can do about it," she said.

Sat-Chit-Anandam

What do you want? What do I want? What does anyone want? Fundamentally, only to be happy.

And, in essence, what do our Hindu scriptures say? You have the ability to be happy regardless of what you have or you don't. Just be with yourself. Connect with yourself. Know yourself.

We find it difficult? Fine, yes, the mind wanders all over the place, seeking all kinds of pleasures. It rakes up the past and fears for the future. Never mind. Here it is - take what you want, perform these rituals. Go to these temples. Worship these deities... 

What are the deities, really? Discovering the depths in iconography is one of the most beautiful parts of self-discovery. For they are not just someone somewhere doing something. Understanding the significance of these deities helps us understand our own life, feelings, and how to travel through this life.

Lord Siva, for instance, is often depicted in meditation or dancing. Two diametrically different aspects, both helping us connect with ourselves and letting go of the world around us.

Mahavishnu is also often seen as Ranganatha or Padmanabha, reclining in a half-sleep state, dreaming and watching, unruffled or undisturbed, enjoying the projection of dreams, creating worlds, problems, drama and what not. He Himself remains unaffected. And we are the characters in that drama.

When we visit temples, learning the significance of the temple is one simple way to connect with the deity. We can carry our prayers and silently commune with the divine. We can go within ourselves and find our own strengths in the divine presence to find ways to deal with whatever life pushes our way. We can know that whatever may go wrong on the outside, we are still protected and safe if we can but anchor ourselves in the divine, surrender at its feet.

Kanchipuram Varadaraja Perumal Gopuram

And so, when temples become noisy and conversations flow unhindered, I am reminded of a statement by Swami Guruparanandaji in one of his talks - meditation and contemplation need solitude and temples are not for that. Yes, I can see that and I wonder why.

Temples were a social hub in the past. The many praharams gave people space to 'hang out' back in days when the temple and the streets around it bustled with life and were the only go to places to spend time and enjoy. 

But today, we have cafes, malls and what not for that. The overall temple spaces have shrunk. Though outer praharams continue to allow us to let our hair down, as we get closer to the sanctum sanctorum, can't we put the brakes to the wagging tongues and racing hearts? Can't we slowly drop the concerns of the world outside and go into our selves? Can't we leave the stress and the tension behind and find peace and calm? 

Why are we averse to being silent? Does silence scare us? Does it oppress us? Are we afraid to be by ourselves, alone? Are we insecure in our relationships where words are absent? Do we need the constant exchange of words to know it thrives? Can't we just learn to listen to the silence and know everything is right with the world, our world?

Can we learn to experience the Sat-Chit-Ananda in the safety of the temple walls, at least, if not anywhere else?

I wonder what it will take.

Teaching - An Art, Not Just a Skill

 I found a new message in Instagram from a stranger once a couple of years ago. I was wary, of course, but the way she had worded the message intrigued me.

Aptly, Buddha in the background

"I learnt music from Mrs Rajalakshmi Sampath in 2008." And some additional details about herself. She was referring to my mom, and that kind of made me pause. 

I saw her DP and knew that I didn't know her. I shared it with my mom, asking her if she recalled this person. "Yes, of course, she and her sister used to learn music when she was in school," she said.

So I responded, amazed that she had made the connection. I told her that my mom remembered her and asked her about what she was doing now.

She told me that she was married and lived abroad. That it's been 16 years, but even now when she sang, she would remember my mom. 

Hearing her sing, she was encouraged by her friends to resume learning. But, though she had, the new teacher was nothing like my mom. "I missed her very much. So I started searching for Mam's name in google. It gave me the link to the video you uploaded in 2017 saying my mother." 

That led her to looking for me on Insta and reaching out when she did.

I was touched and proud, of course. 

But this is not the first time I have heard about mom's teaching methdology. Many of her students in later years were women working for a government office, taking time off during lunch to learn. They all remain in touch whenever they can, ever grateful to her for trusting in them and giving them opportunities to give public performances. One lady even told me, "I was told I could never learn how to pace my singing. But your mother taught me all about talam. Even my nephew (a renowned artist) is amazed."

And, most just love her for her cheerful and positive manner.

Teaching is an art. Sometimes, it is not so much about making someone perfect as inspiring them to discover themselves and keep pursuing the journey so that they can excel. I found that kind of an approach in the Montessori system when my kids were studying there. My own dance teachers have shown me the way while being very patient with my errors and oversights. It gave me confidence and the desire to do better.

Many of my mother's students may not have continued learning music itself. But uniformly one thing they say about her - across ages, including a college going girl recently - that some word she drops while teaching helps them deal with their own life and its challenges better. That they enjoy the class not just for the music, but because it cheers them up, makes them feel confident, believe in themselves.

The original conversation with the student happened quite a while ago. I was reminded of this recently when one of my friends sent me a link about a story challenge - to write about two women in a conversation that is not about a man. I thought this was a good topic. An inspiring teacher and mentor who turned a student's life.

But as I mulled over it, I wondered why it had to be a fiction. It happened in real. It happens constantly. I keep having conversations with my mom's students who time and again mention this. Why make it a story and let the person behind it slip into a vague, idyllic world? 

Recently, many would have seen a video about toxic gurus. That is also a reality. But so is this. 

She is real. She is here. 

And anybody can be her too.

A teacher is in a unique position to not only share a talent or a skill. That is a technique and important. But not enough.

Those who learn do so because they don't know what you know about the art. Be kind and share. But, more importantly, many could be young and lost too. Be there for them, anchoring them not just in the art, but also revealing its subtle power and divinity that can lead us through challenging times with greater equanimity. 

Be a mentor, a friend, philosopher and guide. 

Give love. Be loved.   

More Than Meets the Eye

"Kindly make the payment to confirm the booking," someone from the hotel I was to stay in that week in Delhi pinged me.

Over the week running up to my going to Delhi, I discovered I was talking to a male staff who did night shifts. He was polite and respectful and very helpful as I plied him with questions and requests.