FULL CIRCLE

 

FULL-CIRCLE

FORGIVENESS comes easily

When LOVE comes easily

Love comes easily

When ACCEPTANCE comes easily

Acceptance comes easily

When REALISATION comes easily

Realisation comes easily

When INTROSPECTION comes easily

Introspection comes easily

When DOUBT comes easily

Doubt comes easily

When NEW-KNOWLEDGE comes easily

New-Knowledge comes easily

When CURIOSITY comes easily

Curiosity comes easily

When EGO-LESS state comes easily

Ego-less state comes easily

When SURRENDERING comes easily

Surrendering comes easily

When OBEDIENCE comes easily

Obedience comes easily

When PRAYERS come easily

Prayers come easily

When SUFFERING comes easily

Suffering comes easily

When SPITE comes easily

And now we go FULL-CIRCLE again!!!

DARKNESS...

       “Concealing Darkness” with an envelope of light…..is it possible? How can it stay?

“Dispelling Darkness” with a ray of light…….can it be done? Where can it go?

Darkness never was……or was it?

ME ON MY MOTOR-BIKE

ME ON MY MOTORBIKE :-

A gentle wind caressing my hair,

Tiny dew drops flicking onto my face

From small plants and branches of trees,

The slight chill of the early morning

Seeping into the pores of my skin,

The luke-warm kiss of Sun-beams

On my bare fore-arms,

A darkened vision of the quiet scenery

Thanks to the sun-glasses over the bridge of my nose

Butterflies dancing above the petals

Of wild flowers found on the fields on either side,

The excited chatter of a group of birds

As they suddenly take-off from the branches of an old neem tree,

Fresh air embracing the insides of my lungs,

The gentle comforting throb

Of the ancient engine between my legs,

Two sleek wheels

Skimming the surface of a smooth super-way,

Speed, Safety, Splendorous moments, 

Pure, Pristine and True…….

How much, those gone-by before me,

Had endured in their own life-times,

To give me this!

FREEDOM….

SOUND ADVICE

     I groaned a bit as I stretched my arms out. It had been a long journey from Mumbai in India to a tiny island called St. Eustachius in the Caribbean. Sitting in 5 different planes routed from Mumbai via Frankfurt, Miami, San Juan, Martinique to St. Eustachius had left miserable aches on my tired muscles. I was glad to finally set foot on the island from where we were to board our ship.

     My would be shipmate Mr. “V” was from New Delhi and I had met him in Frankfurt Airport. We had to stay overnight at a hotel in San Juan.  “V” asked me to go out with him for a couple of hours to take a look at the city. I declined the offer as I had visited San Juan a couple of times on my earlier sea voyages. My aching muscles brought out all the required words as my dulled head longed for the comfort of a pillow.

     The next morning , “V” looked anxiously at the whirring twin propellers  of a tiny plane on the air-strip. He had always flown on Jets and had never stepped on a small plane before.  I  allayed his fears and reassured him about the safety aspects of these kind of flying machines. After an uneventful flight, we landed on the bustling island of Martinique. Tourists from many countries were dressed in multi-coloured attire, smiles adorned their faces elevating the holiday mood. Colourful ribbons and flags enhanced the sparsely decorated airport lobby. We approached the information desk and were told that we had to wait for a few hours before we can embark on the last leg of the journey. Flight schedules were not usually adhered to, since there was only one plane which flew to St. Eustachius . This plane had to arrive from some other island and it made 3 trips daily flying passengers to and from various islands.

     Having an indeterminable amount of time on our hands, we had our lunch at a colourful restaurant nearby. The sea-food was delicious and the interiors had a cooling effect. Having a full belly, “V” was finally getting to be his usual self.  We hurried back to the airport and waited amongst a crowd of people in front of the gate. Tiny clusters of people chattered excitedly, animated greetings exchanged when a familiar face was seen and a generally jovial bon-homie atmosphere prevailed in the hot naturally ventilated departure lobby.

     No announcements were made but small groups of people went out onto the runway tarmac whenever a tiny plane landed and embarked on it without much fuss. There were people of all ages, a mixture of races, but the unifying threads were the benign smiles on all their faces.

    We anxiously asked an elderly lady standing beside us about  our flight to St. Eustachius. She beamed at us and dispelled our apprehensions. She told us that she will let us know when it arrives. Another half and hour of trepidation elapsed. If we missed that flight, we would be answerable to our Company’s Superintendent . A  delay would cause loss of money, time and require rescheduling of the ship’s passage.

   All of a sudden, the elderly lady cocked her head to one side as if listening intently and declared that our flight was arriving. We were flabbergasted at this announcement of hers and looked up at the blue cloudless sky. Unable to see any flying object we stared at her, trying to smile. Here was a lady in a far-away land trying to play a prank on unsuspecting foreigners! She told us that the plane would arrive in 3 minutes. A minute later a tiny speck showed above the horizon of the shimmering blue sea and as the seconds passed, it grew in size, morphing into the image of a tiny plane. Sure enough, 2 minutes later, as if to the second, a small single engined plane landed, taxied and stopped outside our departure gate.

     The pilot came out and shouted “Passengers for St.Eustachius!”

      Four other passengers, one of them a lady carrying  puppy in a cage began to walk across the tarmac. As I heaved my shoulder bag, I turned around to the old lady  with a perplexed look and asked her how she had been able to identify the arrival of our plane.

     “Don’t just HEAR the noise of the world my son, LISTEN for the sound you really want and you will know!” she smiled.

     I kept thinking about her words throughout my flight to St. Eustachius. It has been two years since that flight of mine. Even today, when an unfamiliar sound enters my aural universe, I smile in remembrance.

THE DEPARTURE

THE DEPARTURE

15TH MAY 2004:-
The sun rose in the East that morning, the same way it had done through all the days in the past. Nothing special about that, but in my household, it was not just another ordinary day. There have been many
days like this in the past, and only God knows how many more such days I will live through in the future - the day when I say goodbye to my family and friends and set off for another stint of work out at sea.

My bags had been packed and kept ready the night before and as I prepared to take leave unhurriedly, my family members rallied around me, offering help, suggestions and advice, in the same manner as they had done all those previous times. At 9:15AM, I stepped out of my apartment with my 2 pieces of luggage and a carton of machinery spare parts meant for the ship which I was going to join ( handed over to me by my office as a last resort attempt to deliver the much needed spares in time). I waved to a passing autorickshaw, placed my baggage, turned around, uttered my goodbyes, sat inside, and as the autorickshaw set out, I realised I was alone once again.

I sat back in the cushioned seat of the rickshaw, with the sound of FM music blaring from the 2 speakers behind and the nasal, high pitch voice of the friendly driver in front of me. I polietly nodded, grunted and
replied in single-word replies to the amiable fellow's attempts at trying to know my family history. After 15 minutes of indulging him, I began to look out of the rickshaw at the passing vehicles and the urban
landscape, my mind wandering.

After a 45 minutes drive, we reached the city limits and I had to change over to a taxi. The rickshaw driver helped me with my luggage and after an exchange of good wishes for our respective futures, we parted. The
taxi driver was a quiet guy without many comments and concentrated on getting us safely to the airport and I was left alone with my thoughts.

My eyes took in the familiar hustle and bustle, the vigor and vitality, the sheer enthusiasm for life of the Mumbaites. Though I did not regret leaving the city which had embraced me with love and cherished me for
the past many years, I did sense a feeling of envy as I looked at the busy people on the roads. I could not locate the reason for this strange sense of envy. Another 45 minutes passed by quickly and I found myself
at the Departure Terminal. I thanked the Taxi Driver, placed my baggage in a trolley and went inside.

Completing the departure procedures, helped by the efficient ground staff of the terminal, I sat on a blue seat near the terminal gate through which I would step into my future. As I gazed abstractedly, minutes passed me by slowly until 2 of my would-be ship-mates ( senior to me by rank and age) called out my name. We exchanged pleasant greetings and the next few minutes passed by with the usual kind of shop talk which takes place when people of the same company or profession meet. The minutes sped by and soon we followed the rest of the people out of the Departure Gate into the bus which took us to the aircraft.

Settling myself in my seat, I looked out of the window at the ground staff who were going about their duties in a professional manner. A warm feeling of pride swept through me as I watched them, thinking about the
way they had adapted so smoothly to Globalisation and the introduction of modern technology and work systems in our nation.

The 45 mins flight passed quickly with a tasty noon meal (Gujarati Jain cuisine) served and consumed with relish. In-between putting the food in my mouth and slowly savouring it, I was glancing out of the window, down below at the earth. The aircraft flew above small fluffs of clouds passing us in the opposite direction as if in 'slow motion'. The landscape changed from the pleasant green of Maharashtra State to a dark blue
sea and then to the brown and green checked agrarian fields of rural Gujarat State, with groups of dwellings appearing like toy-houses indicating villages and towns. My thoughts again began to meander like the dry
river beds of the land beneath the aircraft. Not long after the meal tray was removed by the air-hostess, the aircraft landed and taxied over to the small terminal building of Jamnagar Airport.

All three of us walked out of the aircraft and were busy collecting our luggage when I felt a friendly tap on my shoulder.I turned around to find the smiling face of an old man who was pointing to a heavy suitcase. Realising that his frail arms may not be able to lift the suitcase, I heaved it onto an empty trolley.

“Thanks young man! See over there…..beyond the security gates….that’s my daughter and  family! !  It’s good to be back home after a stressful business trip….isn’t it?”  he asked me jovially.

An emotionally difficult "day of departure" for one can be a joyous “day of Arrival” for another! Many such days have gone by and many more would take place. Not wanting to spoil his happy moments with my own emotions of having had to part from my family,  I nodded my head cheerfully  and smiling at him,  I met the ship's agent  who would escort me to my ship which would be home to me for the next five months.