Words of Wisdom

he world is full of lessons if only we observe it. Be as humble as the grass. Then nothing can touch you. No one can humiliate you. Always, walk like a king and be a perfect servant! _*-Sri Sri-*_ [15/06, 07:07] Ravi Valluri: _*Question -*_ Gurudev, what can I do to increase my capacity to take your blessings? How can I make my cup bigger? _*Gurudev Sri Sri -*_ In the Advanced Course you all have heard of the _*Shatt Sampatti*_ (Six wealths, or six-fold virtues) *• Sama* (calmness or quietude of mind) *• Dama* (self-control or restraint of the senses) *• Uparati* (satiety) *• Titiksha* (power of endurance) *• Shradha* (faith), and *• Samadhana* (equanimity or one-pointedness of the mind) _*This is what you must focus on increasing more in your life.*_ By enhancing these virtues, your capacity to receive blessings will increase. Among the four pillars of knowledge, the third one that has these six wealths, that is what we must increase. _*Also we must do Seva (service) and Sadhana (spiritual practices)*_

A Moving Vignette of Friendship_*

A Moving Vignette of Friendship_* In 1942, Ervin Rommel’s Afrika Korps overran the 3rd Indian Motor Brigade at the Battle of Ghazala in North Africa. 17 Indian army officers were taken prisoners &, eventually, interned in Aversa prisoner of war camp in Italy.They were of different faiths & even, different ethnicities. None knew at that time how glorious their careers would one day be. *Captured officers included* Major P. P. Kumaramangalam, Captain A. M. Yahya Khan, Captain A. S. Naravane, Lieutenant Tikka Khan and Lieutenant Sahibzada Yaqub Khan. Kumaramangalam rose to be India’s Army Chief (1966-69), *Yahya Khan* became Pakistan’s Army Chief and then President (1966-71). *Tikka Khan* succeeded him as Pakistan’s Army Chief (1972-76), *Naravane* rose to be a *Major General* and wrote about the Aversa PoW camp in his memoirs (A Soldier’s Life in War and Peace) and *Yaqub Khan* became Pakistan’s Foreign minister. In his memoirs Naravane says Kumaramangalam, as the senior most, was appointed Camp Senior Officer. Yahya Khan was the Camp Adjutant. Tikka Khan was the Camp Quartermaster. I’ve pieced together the story of what thereafter happened to four of these officers both from what I received and from Pakistan’s *Friday Times.* It’s a tale with a happy ending. In the confusion that followed Italy’s capitulation in September 1943, several of the officers, including Kumaramangalam, Yahya Khan and Yaqub Khan *escaped.* The Friday Times says “they moved between the coast and the spurs of the Apennines, avoiding German patrols and frequently hiding in forests”. Yaqub Khan spoke Italian and that enabled them to find shelter with friendly Italian peasant families. At some point Yahya Khan separated from the others and, after marching 400 kms, made contact with an Indian battalion. He arrived with just one shoe ! Kumaramangalam and Yakub Khan continued to seek shelter and sanctuary with Italian families for a few months longer. When they made their break for freedom Kumaramangalam was gifted a necklace as a good luck charm by one of the Italian mothers who had become fond of him. Alas, it didn’t help. A few days later, on a dark night, he slipped and fractured his ankle. *The Friday Times* says he pleaded with Yaqub Khan to leave him but the young Lieutenant refused. Not surprisingly, they were captured by the Germans and transferred to a camp called *Stalag Luft III*. Years later it became famous because this featured in *‘The Great Escape’.* The *Friday Times story*, written *by Major General Syed Ali Hamid* and published in February 2019, takes this enchanting tale of our four musketeers right to the point where they became famous, powerful and reached the top of their careers. When *Yahya Khan* visited Delhi in 1966, as *C-in-C* designate of Pakistan, he was received at the airport by *Gen. Kumaramangalam*, then the Chief of the Indian Army. When Sahibzada *Yaqub Khan*, as *Foreign Minister of Pakistan*, visited *Italy*, he made a point to meet the family that had sheltered him and his fellow officers during the war. Now, this is not a big story and you may well wonder why I wanted to share it with you? *Because it’s a vignette of a time when Indians and Pakistanis, Hindus and Muslims, Pathans and Tamils were not just friends but brothers-in-arms.* Partition has sundered us, politicians regularly stoke the embers to keep the fire alight and, sadly, generations have grown up, not just in ignorance of each other, but taught to dislike and hate. Yet there was a time when we were one, fought for the same army and were the closest of friends. Sadly, that world is lost and gone forever.

*Towards Globalisation*

*Towards Globalisation* This is written by *Swaminathan S Anklesaria Aiyer*, about himself. Published in The Times of India in April 2005. Many of us may identify with it… ***** In 1992, I wrote a book titled *Towards Globalisation*. I did not realise at the time that this was going to be the history of my family. Last week, we celebrated the wedding of my daughter, *Pallavi*. A brilliant student, she had won scholarships to Oxford University and the London School of Economics. In London, she met *Julio*, a young man from Spain. The two decided to take up jobs in Beijing, China. Last week, they came over from Beijing to Delhi to get married. The wedding guests included 70 friends from North America, Europe and China. That may sound totally global, but arguably my elder son *Shekhar* has gone further. He too won a scholarship to Oxford University, and then taught for a year at a school in Colombo. Next he went to Toronto, Canada, for higher studies. There he met a German girl, *Franziska*. They both got jobs with the International Monetary Fund in Washington DC, USA. This meant that they constantly travelled on IMF business to disparate countries. Shekhar advised and went on missions to Sierra Leone, Seychelles, Kyrgyzstan and Laos. Franziska went to Rwanda, Tajikistan, and Russia. They interrupted these perambulations to get married in late 2003. My younger son, *Rustam*, is only 15. Presumably he will study in Australia, marry a Nigerian girl, and settle in Peru. Readers might think that my family was born and bred in a jet plane. The truth is more prosaic. Our ancestral home is *Kargudi*, a humble, obscure village in *Tanjore district*, Tamil Nadu. My earliest memories of it are as a house with no toilets, running water, or pukka road. When we visited, we disembarked from the train at Tanjore, and then travelled 45 minutes by bullock cart to reach the ancestral home. My father was one of six children, all of whom produced many children (I myself had three siblings). So, two generations later, the size of the Kargudi extended family (including spouses) is over 200. Of these, *only three still live in the village*. The rest have moved across India and across the whole world, from China to Arabia to Europe to America. *This one Kargudi house has already produced 50 American citizens*. So, dismiss the mutterings of those who claim that globalisation means westernisation. It looks more like *Aiyarisation*, viewed from Kargudi. What does this imply for our sense of identity? I cannot speak for the whole Kargudi clan, which ranges from rigid Tamil Brahmins to beef-eating, pizza-guzzling, hip-hop dancers. But for me, the *Aiyarisation of the world* does not mean Aiyar domination. Nor does it mean Aiyar submergence in a global sea. It means acquiring multiple identities, and moving closer to the ideal of a brotherhood of all humanity. I remain quite at home sitting on the floor of the Kargudi house on a mat of reeds, eating from a banana leaf with my hands. I feel just as much at home eating noodles in China, steak in Spain, teriyaki in Japan and cous-cous in Morocco. I am a Kargudi villager, a Tamilian, a Delhi-wallah, an Indian, a Washington Redskins fan, and a citizen of the world, all at the same time and with no sense of tension or contradiction. When I see the Brihadeeswara Temple in Tanjore, my heart swells and I say to myself “This is mine.” I feel exactly the same way when I see the Church of Bom Jesus in Goa, or the Jewish synagogue in Cochin, or the Siddi Sayed mosque in Ahmedabad: these too are mine. I have strolled so often through the Parks at Oxford University and along the canal in Washington, DC, that they feel part of me. As my family multiplies and intermarries, I hope one day to look at the Sagrada Familia cathedral in Barcelona and Rhine river in Germany and think, “These too are mine.” *We Aiyars have a taken a step toward the vision of John Lennon. Imagine there's no country, It isn't hard to do. Nothing to kill or die for, And no religion too*. My father's generation was the first to leave the village, and loosen its regional shackles. My father became a chartered accountant in Lahore, an uncle became a hotel manager in Karachi, and we had an aunt in Rangoon. My generation loosened the shackles of religion. My elder brother married a Sikh, my younger brother married a Christian, and I married a Parsi. The next generation has gone a step further, marrying across the globe. *Globalisation for me is not just the movement of goods and capital, or even of Aiyars*. It is a step towards Lennon's vision of no country. You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope one day you'll join us. And the world will be one. ( *Swaminathan Aiyar*)

Here is a poem on Chaat

Here is a poem on Chaat, by ChatGPT, when asked to write in Shakespearean style👇🏼👇🏼👇🏼👇🏼 😊😊😊😊😊😊 In fair bazaar, where flavors meet with grace, There lies a dish of wondrous, grand embrace. Chaat, the delight that doth my taste buds sing, A symphony of spices that doth bring A dance of tangy joy upon my tongue, Where sweet and savory are deftly strung. Oh, Chaat, thou art a feast for senses keen, A culinary marvel, seldom seen. Thy Pani Puri, tiny orbs of bliss, Do burst with flavors, such as none can miss. And Samosas, golden parcels of delight, With spiced fillings that do beguile the sight. Dahi Puri, with yogurt's creamy kiss, Balances heat with its cool, tender bliss. Bhel Puri, a mingling of crunch and zest, Each bite a treasure, truly manifest. From Aloo Tikki to Papdi Chaat rare, Thou offereth a symphony beyond compare. In Chaat's embrace, traditions intertwine, A celebration of flavors so fine. With friends and family, we come to partake, Indulging in this joy, for goodness' sake. Oh, Chaat, thou art a treasure to behold, A Shakespearean feast of flavors untold. *So let us revel in this gastric art*, *And savor every bite, with grateful heart*. *For in thy essence, stories are unveiled*, *Of culture, heritage, and memories hailed*. *Chaat, thou art a masterpiece divine*, *A Shakespearean sonnet in culinary design

The Art of Letting-go: Relish Life to the Fullest

27. The Art of Letting-go: Relish Life to the Fullest There once lived a cerebral physicist who taught at an estimable university. He had unravelled several mysteries and riddles pertaining to the origins of universe through sedulous and almost pertinacious investigation and exploration. The professor was decorated with awards and worldwide recognition followed. As he became a celebratory figure, he soon developed a swollen head. His affectation was to become his hubris. Once the sovereign of his field, he lost his equilibrium and was charged with salacious behaviour towards students and some colleagues. As his public image became tarnished and could no longer be ignored, troubles came shooting at the professor like meteors from the skies. Troubles come in threes The government and administration stripped him off all the awards bestowed, and his prepossessing wife deserted him. The esteemed professor was unable to grapple with these misadventures in life. Quite ironically the physicist who had been on the verge of decoding the mysteries of the universe was soon enveloped by tenebrosity. At his tethers end, his edifice of wisdom collapsed, he began dabbling with drugs and alcohol. He became addicted to alcohol and drug abuse and dependence, which had a pernicious impact on his body and interpersonal relationships. Sakhya Muni, Lord Buddha had said, “Be strong, but not rude. Be kind, but not weak. Be humble not shy, be proud but not arrogant.” These aureate words were apparently lost on the once-upon-a-time dynamo mind of the physicist. Baby steps to recovery Some well wishers from his fraternity commiserated with him and were filled with compassion for their once effulgent colleague. The physicist was wheeled into a rehabilitation centre and under a detoxification regimen was slowly weaned off alcohol and drugs. As alternative therapies, the professor underwent meditation and yoga sessions. He also underwent the Happiness Programme of the Art of Living and learnt the unique rhythmic breathing technique of Sudarshan Kriya which provided the ballast for his recovery. The course helped him to eschew dependency on alcohol and drugs. Over a period of time the physicist regained sobriety. Second Innings: Seeking spiritual solace The once extolled and accomplished professor who was condemned by society for his avarice, pomposity and hedonistic lifestyle slowly regained equilibrium, equipoise and equanimity through the twin approaches of medication and meditation. Upon recovery he rediscovered his mojo and attempted to regain his lost sovereignty by unearthing the quintessential truth of the origin of universe. The process of letting go begins “Indeed the sage who’s fully quenched rests at ease in every way, no sense, desires, adheres to him whose fires have evolved, deprived of fuel. All attachments have been severed, the hearts been led away from pain, tranquil, he rests with utmost ease. The mind has found its way to peace,” said the Sakhya Muni, Lord Buddha. The professor though sober now and purged of his hedonistic tendencies was still feeling saturated from within. His soul was yet to feel satiated. He developed a profound interest in the spiritual dimension of life and the universe. After sustained deliberation the professor embarked upon a spiritual sojourn. There was something burning and arid in his self which made him set-off upon this quest. The spiritual peregrination took him halfway around the world till he arrived at a remote village, high in the Himalayas, at the feet of an accomplished master. This suzerain of the sacred texts of different religions had gained remarkable adroitness and virtuosity in Zen Buddhism. The enlightened, holy person dressed in ochre robes and exuding jollity welcomed the professor with a warm embrace. His searching and lustrous eyes scanned the professor. The physicist narrated his story. He concluded by adding that he was now trying to fathom the mysteries hidden in the womb of the universe from the spiritual and scientific points of view. “But this is what you were doing at the university and in your laboratory, is it not professor?” enquired the seer. He felt that the Zen Master could ignite the missing spark from his life and help him expatriate antipathetic thoughts from his mind so that he could upend the pyramid. He had successfully extricated himself from the whirlpool of gloom once and he could see light at the end of the tunnel. Yet there was something amiss in his life…! It was dry like the autumn leaf that drops from the branches of the tree. Time you let loose “So, what new are you attempting to unravel? Ok, let us have a cup of tea,” said the venerated soul. The professor appeared at ease as the perspicacious and sagacious soul poured the tea. Soon the cup began to overflow. Seeing this, the professor exclaimed, “Holy Sir, the cup is overflowing!” “Precisely, and I was examining your reaction,” remarked the Holy One. “Unless you just let go of your haughtiness and self-conceit the way the tea overflowed from the cup, you will never learn anything afresh. This is the secret,” stated the Zen Master in an absolutely matter of fact manner. “Drop all your desires when you approach a Master. Let go of your baggage,” he added. The Zen Master was to further add, “Buddha advocated four concepts- Observe the body (Kayana Paschana) Observe the sensations (Vedananu Paschana) Observe the flow of mind (Chittana Paschana) Observe your true nature (Dhammanu Paschana).” The professor realised that he had forayed into unchartered territories but without understanding his mind. His mind was brimful of demonic and arrogant thoughts and ossified. He was neither simple nor humble or aware. These were the keys for him to let go and be absolutely pristine and lucid.

Be Calm and Composed

Be Calm and Composed Aeons ago in ancient China lived an old farmer who had worked on his land for many years. He was blessed with a perspicacious mind. Abruptly, one day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, a motley group of neighbours came to commiserate with him. “Such misfortune, such ill luck,” the agitated group of villagers reacted. “Maybe,” nonchalantly replied the farmer. A few days later the horse returned, accompanied by three wild horses. Another group of villagers made a beeline to the house of agriculturist to sympathise. “Maybe,” was the taciturn reply of the aged farmer. The following day, the farmer’s son tried to mount one of the untamed horses and was thrown off. Consequently, the strapping youngster broke his leg. The overwrought neighbours once again queued up to offer their sympathies at this misadventure. “Maybe,” was the desultory answer yet again. A few days later some military personnel swooped on the village to draft young men. Looking at the incapacitated stripling he was disqualified from being recruited. The exuberant neighbours congratulated the old grazier on the unexpected turn of events. “Maybe,” was the laconic reply yet again. Import of the story What could be the gravity and consequences of this unconventional Zen story? The remarkable ability of the aged farmer to remain unruffled, whatever the unwelcome turn or misadventure one may encounter in life. Second, to remain in the present moment and possess the uncanny ability to accept people and situations as they are. This transmutes and metamorphoses the mind to remain pacific in every situation and maintain equanimity. Aphorism of the Art of Living Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, the Spiritual Master has succinctly elucidated the significance of the aphorism, ‘to accept people and situations as they are’ in his teachings. Any individual who undertakes the Happiness Programme of the Art of Living is imparted this knowledge. This sutra engineers a radical change in the personality. The 4 Ds of Abnormal Behaviour Abnormal behaviour can be construed as a behaviour which is disturbing (socially unacceptable), distressing, maladaptive (or self-defeating), and often the result of distorted thoughts (cognitions), as per Wikipedia. There are four strains in this abnormal behaviour. These are deviance, dysfunction, distress and danger. Deviant behaviour is usually different, extreme, and unusual and could even include bizarre behavioural patterns. The second in the series is distressing behaviour. People who are related to such individuals feel unpleasant and unsettled in their presence. Dysfunctional behaviour discommodes the patient to such an extent that it acts as a deterrent in his day to day functioning and behaviour and interferes in his range of activities. The individual is no longer constructive to himself or to society at large. They are individuals who are plainly dangerous or even lethal in their behavioural approach. This impacts their lives and the lives of those with whom they get intertwined in some manner. Anxiety disorders and their symptoms There are five specific patterns of anxiety disorders which fall into this category. The first is termed as General Anxiety Disorder. This is a prolonged, vague, quite inexplicable fear having no objective basis, accompanied by hyper vigilance and attached motor tension of the brain. Next is what in quotidian parlance is called Panic Disorder. These are none other than perpetual and frequent anxiety disorders and attacks which are accompanied with psychological symptoms such as breathlessness, palpitations, a trembling feeling, dizziness and even a sense of total loss of control over the self. The individual suffering from such a pestilence could even harbour morbid thoughts. Next in the line of mental disorders are phobias. Humans have irrational phobias such as Acrophobia (fear of heights), Glossophobia (fear of addressing an audience), Claustrophobia (fear of enclosed spaces), Aviophobia (fear of flying). There is yet another phobia which impacts the human mind. This is called OCD or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. In such a situation a human being is preoccupied with a wide range of thoughts, which are normally viewed by sane people as absolutely irrational. Such persons are habituated to inspecting and checking on things in their immediate surroundings, at home or outside, washing clothes in order to be absolutely freshly attired or always found counting things or even money. Last, but no less distressing – on this ill-fated checklist is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). These individuals suffer repeated and recurrent nightmares, flashbacks, impaired concentration and emotional numbing which invariably follows traumatic or stressful events. The way out Our country is plagued by three major issues namely, addictions, women’s issues and psychological disorders. A large mass of denizens approach tantriks, babas, and other quacks hoping for a miraculous cure. In all such mephitic issues, it is essential and mandatory to meet a qualified medical practitioner. The first step to recovery is medication under the expert guidance of a doctor. Next, after a period of treatment, it would be prudent to contact self-help groups, which sustain and nourishe the treatment. For instance, undergoing the Happiness Course of the Art of Living, where a person is taught the unique rhythmic breathing technique of Sudarshan Kriya. Sri Sri Ravi Shankar calls the breathing technique as romance with the breath. Human breath has the remarkable potential to expatriate toxins and fears and paves the roadway to recovery. “No matter how hard the past, you can always begin again,” said Gautama Buddha.

Being Compassionate is the Road to Happiness

Being Compassionate is the Road to Happiness A Zen Master assembled his tutees at the Temple of Knowledge. The monks had completed a vigorous session on meditation were suffused with efficacious thoughts. It was time to question their cerebral robustness. “What do you mean by compassion?” he posed. Replies from the disciples varied from love, generosity, affection, care, kindness to liberality. The Zen Master went on to narrate a story. Once near a Temple of Knowledge lived a mendicant. One day an old lady dropped a coin in his begging bowl. A little later a propertied Prince happened to pass by and looking at his pitiable condition dropped in five gold coins and walked away in a haughty manner. Subsequently a small monk who lived within the precincts of the Temple of Knowledge emerged. He was carrying a few coins to buy flowers for a function in the Temple. On his way back, he handed over the bunch of flowers to the mendicant. “So friends, who was the most compassionate of the three?” In unison, the tutees proclaimed that it was the opulent prince since he had parted with five gold coins as alms. The Zen Master shook his head in disagreement and remarked, “The old lady gave a coin as an act of pity, the deep-pocketed prince brazenly displayed his haughtiness, while the young monk was deeply touched at the pitiable condition of the individual and gave the flowers meant for a ritual to be performed in the Temple of Knowledge. He felt a deep empathy within his being and parted the flowers without a degree of hesitation and could invoke a smile on the face of the alms-seeker.” “Compassion springs from the fountain of love, while lust is the bedrock of passion,” exhorted the Zen Master to the assembled disciples. Aeons ago lived a young prince named Siddhartha, belonging to the fearsome Sakyan kingdom, a noteworthy republic of the period. Sage Asita however, forewarned King Suddhodhana that his son Siddhartha would indeed become the emperor of the world, but not in battle fatigues rather by donning ochre robes as compassion was in the very DNA of the child. This forewarning acted on the overwrought Sakyan sovereign. He encircled Siddhartha with a luxuriant life, inciting carnal passion in him, simultaneously goading him to be brawny enough to take part in warfare. The monarch assumed that matrimony and parenthood would veer the mind of the strapping youngster away from monkhood. However, Emperor Suddhodhana could never truly encircle the mind of Siddhartha, as the Prince pined for the quintessential truth. One fine day, without any warning, the young heir abdicated all gross and corporeal things in life and plunged headlong into a life of tapas. The Sakyan prince not only discarded his battle fatigues but also transfigured his mind. The robust and intrepid mind had to sift through the nugatory thoughts of sorrow and happiness, logic and feverishness to become pristine, full of compassion, love and non-violence. The transmutation of his mind and self was an arduous journey of deep introspection. It was not largesse bestowed by the Universe. Non-violence became the springboard to complete the transformation into a compassionate human being. Planet Earth hosts myriad life-forms. It is the only planet which nourishes life, deriving vital prana from the Sun. Degradation of the environment and ecology on account of man’s avarice and rapacious covetousness is torpedoing the very process of living. We are no longer compassionate to ourselves, or to the flora and fauna or even the rivers, seas and farmlands. Humans spewing negativity will soon turn the host of creation into a ghost land. Once, Buddha was in the midst of an assembly. Those present were engrossed in meditation. A raging and wrathful businessman reached the spot. The magnate hailed from an opulent family and was distraught that his wife and children had given up the luxuriant ways of life and spent hours meditating at the conclave. He saw Buddha sporting a beatific and serene smile. Wrenching his fists in vexation, he spat at the compassionate one’s face much to the chagrin of all present before rushing out. But it was a tumultuous night for the entrepreneur, barely snatching a few winks. He recalled that this was the first occasion in his life that a person on whom he spat maintained remarkable poise and equanimity. His body shivered and he felt that there was an earthquake in his mind. Deeply distraught, he reached the conclave the next morning, apologising profusely. “Holy Sire, please forgive me. I did not know what I was doing.” Buddha, maintaining his calm demeanour merely remarked, “I cannot excuse you.” The assembly was taken aback. Buddha looked intensely into the eyes of the industrialist and merely stated, “Why do you ask for pardon? You did nothing counterfactual.” “Holy one! I was the mentally wrecked person who had the temerity to spit on your face.” The businessman added, “And for this wanton act I am devastated.” Buddha parried the question, dexterously stating, “Oh! That individual is no longer in our midst.” In case I ever meet that gentleman, I shall ask him to pardon the person who is currently amidst us. Son, you have done no wrong, remove the heavy stone of repentance from yourself and heart.” Compassion never mushrooms from not pardoning someone or making a person feel the victim or inducing guilt. The act of forgiveness is so subtle that the individual granted clemency is unaware of the charitable act. Compassion stands for lenity which emerges from love, while animosity and tyranny appear from lust and covetousness. Love exudes warmth and embraces all animate and inanimate objects, while lust embarks an individual on the path of sabotage and often self-destruction. “If you want others to be happy practice compassion. If you want to be happy practice compassion,” says the Dalai Lama.