Fall Leaves

Of all the seasons fall is the most beautiful in Oklahoma. Sunshine warms the body and soul to perfection like the toaster occasionally toasts my bread. I struggle so often to get the perfect toast but for sunshine we leave ourselves at the mercy of sun. Surprisingly life is really wonderful with out the weight of trying to be perfect or having no say in spread of sunshine and many wonderful things that are gifted to us.

 After unusually wet early October, we are now blessed again with sunny weather. It is just so nourishing and heartwarming to take a walk around neighbor hood or drive around town to watch the trees bursting with colors of fall. Sun leaves a golden hue on top of the trees still with leaves. Rain and wind has littered the ground with leaves. I sit out and watch those dry leaves falling and dancing in air for a while before their gentle and quiet fall. Even in their demise they offer beauty and solace to the onlookers. Some of them get stuck in cobwebs trembling and quivering in space like hanging between eternity and mortality.

On those warm, beautiful and quiet days of fall the only annoying thing is the sound of leaf blowers and big monster lawnmowers. We have to bear them like many other nuisances of modern life. I have been delaying to call my lawn mower guy to stretch the lovely sight that my yard, still full of leaves, offers me. I have never bagged leaves accept for once and have stayed away from it because of the strain that it causes to my back. But I am not yet ready to let go of those leaves by those nasty blowers either.

So I surveyed the leaves covered front yard. It was smaller than my back yard. With winds calm it looked like millions of tiny fishes were basking under the bright sun. I had left the scene untouched for as long as I could but it was time to come out of my imaginative state and do some cleanup. Still In my desire to get close to nature’s simple beauty I decided to give raking a try but this time with a feminine touch and make my work enjoyable rather then speedy. At my age in figuring out the quality of life, speed is the last factor any way. So I over looked the big black trashcan and the heavy shovel and picked my tall kitchen wastebasket, dust pan, roll of small trash bags, my step stool, gloves and the lightest wooden rake. Set everything on side and raked a small area. The lawn was so full of leaves it took only couple of minutes to make a big pile. I made few piles knit closely and sat on step stool as close to big pile of leaves as I could. I laid down the wastebasket vertically and with the help of dustpan and some time just with hands filled it up. More than three fourth full I took out the plastic bag and stuffed it a little more with leaves.

 The sun’s rays warming my face and soft breeze keeping me cool I was amazingly happy to be able to work in my yard and be close to those leaves. Often I took out my gloves to feel them. In their brown color with transparent thin veins they were as alive as I am with my flesh and blood under my brown skin. Kissed by the morning dew some were still wet and moist like my own drippy nose. I worked for an hour interrupted only by a green grasshopper that said hello and flew away. A brown butterfly blended so well with leaves that I almost bagged it. I stopped for few minutes to watch it flutter and fly. While filling the bags some leaves escaped their destiny. I stopped and watched them dancing away to the street. Some settled on the concrete but some flew a little further to destination unknown.

I worked for about an hour and filled about ten bags. A little tired I got up and looked around. The fact that I barely had made a dent in that yard full of leaves hardly bothered me. The pleasure that I found in working every minute of that hour was immense. In next few days I worked few more hours at my slow and easy speed to fill nine or ten bags at a time. Finally the front yard was showing more green than brown but the autumn clouds and cold wind returned. My back yard is still untouched and full with those crisp and tender brown leaves. The trees are almost bare now. As much as I would like to work in my back yard to be close to this soul touching weather I know it would be a bit too much for me. Eventually it would be cleaned up with those monster blowers mercilessly but not before I enjoy few more weeks of fall with the yard full of leaves. In the mean time I have to figure out how to dispose of those fifty or so feather light bags!

Savita Tyagi

11.13.09

I shared it on my Face Book some time back when it was written. With lovely fall around us sharing it again on the blog. 

Spider Web

After two days of welcoming summer rain, morning is cool and calm.

I came out with a cup of tea to feel the warmth of morning sun,

To watch the green grass, the dark, damp, water-soaked tree trunks

Freshly bathed leaves with their rich green color

And the raindrops glistening on the grass.

The street is empty of any walker or car.

Even the birds are quiet, just then I notice the spider web.

The gossamer was suspended in air with all its threads sparkling under the glorious rays of morning sun.

Some of its filament attached to tree trunks giving it a base unseen by my eyes. 

I kept looking at it for few seconds and thought to my self, this is how this universe is suspended attached with some invisible power string

Giving rhythm to all life.

The quest for gnosis so intense in human heart

Yet to this day we can’t understand it.

Some say they have felt it and vouch for it with definite authority.

Some simply brush it aside deeming it immaterial and unnecessary for their daily life. 

Standing there I thought being a seeker or nonbeliever

Is not the concern of that Creative Power

And I think the spider; the trees, the morning sun and the birds flying high are not concerned about it either.

So I too should put the question aside simply to enjoy and relish this beauty while I can.

The Moon Rise

Love came to me like sunshine

So bright, cheerful, and invigorating

I didn’t just open the window

All the doors of my heart were thrown open

It moved freely lighting up every corner

The beautiful luminous mornings

Long intimate afternoons

I thought it would never end.

The spring had come to me

Each breath that I drew in filled me up

With the soft breeze of love

Hold my arms and we will fly over the clouds

That sweet unspoken offering of love

I had put all my faith in that

Why one must reject it I couldn’t understand.

It’s like we opened the bottle to fill our glasses

But couldn’t take a sip

I wish I could understand the hesitation

Does a bottle opener knows the pain of humiliated glass

Full to its rims untouched and unsipped

Or does a glass knows the bottle opener’s heart

Filling the cup only to push it aside

In any case this is how we are

Drifting apart in confusion with each passing moment

The sun is setting upon us

The black night is spreading beyond ash colored evening

The stars come out only to commiserate upon us

It is time to close the doors

Shut the windows tight

The darkness is my silent companion

The sunshine burns my heart now

To my surprise I again see you under my window

I admire your perseverance

Today you asked again for a chance

The love serenade sounds like shattered crystal falling around

My heart screams upon me to open the door for you

But I just lean against it

The feel of hard cold wood

Seeps in my veins

An icy patch upon the burning love

Standing in the darkness

I just wait for the moon to rise.

Sleep Dear Hold Me Tight

Now that the world has brushed me aside

Ambition to make a difference isn’t mine

Plumes of youth fallen to dust

Body frail and longing hushed

I am so willing to fall in your arms

Sleep dear! Hold me tight

Let me wander in a land afar

Where loving hearts still come to greet

Some from the world of light

Others of gleaming earthly delight

All breaking the barriers of time and distance

I thank them all for that glad reunion

When sleep comes in installments

It charges dues from anxious mind

Forbidding entrance to that serene world

Where about of that I only wonder

How rejuvenating to clamp down on clamor

Move beyond REM and sleep spindles

Loose all awareness of thought and feeling

To see, hear or know nothing

To slide in that blissful ignorance!

Sleep dear! Be kind to me

Keep me in your gentle embrace

Let me recede beyond the deepest layers of subconscious

Offer that quiet ambiance of nonexistence more often!

Become Me-minded

Reading Bhagavad Geeta I came across a phrase “Manmanaa Bhav”

The last shloka of chapter nine goes like that-

    मन्मना भव मद्भक्तो मद्याजी मां नमस्कुरु ।
    मामेवैष्यसि युक्त्वैवमात्मानं मत्परायणः ।
Transliteration

Μanmanā bhava madbhaktō madyāji māmnamaskurū

Māmevaişyasi yuktvaivamātmānam matprāyaņah

Translation:

Become me-minded, me-loving-and-adoring

Me-consecrated, sacrificing unto me, and bow thou to me;

Thus uniting thyself heart and soul in me,

Thou shalt come unto me.

I was much struck with the immensity and deep implication of the Shloka.
Just like the famous phrase of Vedā, ‘Sah-Aham’ it puts us at the highest challenge of a thought. These unique recurring thoughts are not only the essence of Bhagavad Geeta and Upanishad but are at the zenith of all Indian philosophical thoughts.

As I contemplated on the shloka, first phase in particular it occur to me that certainly it is a little easier to follow ‘bow to me, be devoted to me', Since most of us are willing to accept the supremacy of an higher being. Our highest emotions of reverence and love guide us on the path of devotion. But to ‘become me minded’ is such a farfetched idea on the surface, so difficult to understand that realizing it would seem like a rare achievement if not impossible, reserved only for few great souls. Bhagavad Geeta itself says that many births and many lives may go with out reaching that state. With out becoming ‘Me-minded.’

Still Geeta says it is possible and encourages all of us to walk on that path. How than is a commoner like me to reconcile with it and what to take from it or how to follow it?

Faced with the riddle I close me eyes and try to imagine standing at the base of majestic Himalayas, looking and admiring those snow covered peaks. More I immerse my self into the beauty and serenity of the peaks more I get drawn to them and think of taking a journey on the snow covered path. Some have done it before me and many will be taking that challenge in future, but it is practically impossible for me with my current capabilities. My hiking would not last long. With in few minutes with freezing ears and red nose I would be rolling my self down. This is just one earthly example. One could think of people reaching to moon and other spaces. Though I can take pride in their achievements and admire them for their courage and determination still this will not be my journey or my goal. If I am to think of their goal and achievement and try to copy it I could end up a very unhappy person. In the journey of life I am situated on a different path and that is where I seek my joy and my happiness.

Spiritual goal and journey is also some thing like that. It challenges and demands from all of us to touch the peak, to be ‘Manmana bhav.’ At the same time it makes it possible to stay on our own course by advising, ‘whatever step you take offer them to me. Sacrifice unto me. Surrender all your thoughts and actions to me’.

I guess this is where the secret lies. Once all the thoughts and actions become an offering, ‘Manmanaa Bhav’ can become a reality. Our thoughts- His thoughts, our actions- His actions, our mind His mind and if Life is God then our life His life. All paths His path, all goals His goal. All is divine all is sacred. To embrace life in its fullness with all its joys and sufferings, its achievements and failures, its destinations and base points all can fall with in ‘Manmanaa bhav’. By thinking of ourselves as an instrument of divine we can attune to that thought. 

That is the only way I can relate to it. That is the only way however small it may be that I can become ‘Sah Aham’ or follow ‘Manmanna bhav’.

Note- Translation for the shloka is taken from 'Bhagavad Geeta In the Light of Sri Aurobindo'

            Edited by Maheshwar