60 Minutes of Dump

We all tend to stumble in the blues dumps now and then. Sometimes it passes by with little impact; few times it gets intense leaving the night pillows wet and soaked with salted water. During these extreme times we start to question many mundane things, things starting from - why me? Do I deserve this? What went wrong? And that’s when a specific demoness comes all the way just to meet you and makes you have that not so goody goody feeling – self pity.

   Self-pity can do a lot, from questioning yourself to questioning others around you. It is, by far, to me, the worst feeling a person can ever have.  It’s like a leech sucking on your common sense and sense of goodness. Self pity and tears combined can do some really manipulative stuffs to the mind. This heavy manipulation lasts for minimum of 60 minutes and can have two kinds of impacts on a person. The good kind and obviously its nemesis, the bad kind.

      Having watched the many Bollywood, Hollywood, and the other industry movies ,we can assure ourselves that bad, indeed has an upper hand and is sometimes much stronger. In this 60 minutes of craziness we can come up with some terrible, not so good for life solutions like suicide, the want to give up something you are fighting for, the decision to become reserved form the world, or take revenge on that factor which caused the pain.

     However we all happen to forget that, that the 60 minutes is just dump. All our weakness is followed by the 60 minutes of dump and no matter what(underline that) we should not let that mediocre little minutes take over our life.

   The easiest way maybe, to win the war with this really cruel demoness is to be done with the 60 minutes. Then take it to the back of your mind and delete it in the virtual Recycle Bin forever. And after that my friend, you are free of the miss devil for the time being. All I want to say is, let’s not permit this 60 minutes take over the many more minutes in our life.



Signing off for now,

 Me.

Finding a Teacher

We are all in a continuous search of a teacher, a someone who would take our hands and guide us in a channel, which is right for who we really are. Some deny the search, some got lucky, some never comprehend they needed one. I was on the look out to, hoping to find that person who I could trust and learn from.

              

We create idols, role models. We desire to be like them and it was on this search that I realized I didn’t have to be like any other person but just be me. A new identity, an example of uniqueness. A Teacher is that who makes you see yourself, makes you grasp your individuality.

                   

 At the age of 16 I learnt about Teachers (having reading plentiful books by Paulo Coelho) and soon I began my quest to find one. I tried recklessly, trying very hard to find the “light” in every human I met irrespective of the age. Even before I had realized it, I had found my teacher after all. Not from any two legged creature or anything alive for the matter but in that being we deem as a goddess -  Nature herself.

            She has become my teacher, the one I wanted all the time, teaching me all the way the rights and wrongs of everything I do or think in miraculous way only possible by Her. That is the magnitude of Her magnificence, Her marvel. She helped me transform the world into a scared book which became my bible, my Gita, my holy book. With every going day She always has something to show to me, starting from the simplest creatures She herself hand created. Each day has become a day of learning, and with it I appreciate deeper and deeper - Her immense splendor and glory.

  

   Teachers can be found easily once we accept our call for one. No words can honestly express how truly gratified I am for having found my Teacher so soon. The quest ends but the learning never will. Time will keep scurrying, along with it, I shall persist discovering until the end of time, honoring her with words such as these for that is all I have.