Z is for Zikr #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the last post of the #Blogging from A to Z  April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

Today, we wrap up with a reminder.

I hope you'll enjoy being here.

Thank you.

Arti

There's a Peanuts cartoon that shows Snoopy and Charlie Brown from behind, sitting on a jetty beside a lake, having the following conversation:

"Someday, we will all die Snoopy!"

"True, but on all the other days, we will not."

The above extract is from  The Book of Ichigo Ichie.

The authors go on to say:

And "all the other days" are made up of encounters and moments that we either allow to slip away or make unforgettable.

According to Wikipedia, Zikr (Urdu) is the same as Arabic Dhikr. Zikr literally means "remembrance, reminder" or "mention, utterance". They are Islamic devotional acts, in which phrases or prayers are repeated.

What better way to complete a series inspired by Ichiego Ichie than to remember this April of bonhomie we managed to nurture despite the world crises; to mention all those whose paths crossed with mine, to utter words of encouragement and gratitude to those who visited and commented, and above all to remind ourselves that we are all one.*

I once heard a wise person say: the air that you think divides us actually holds us all together as one big family. In a dark and twisted way, Covid-19 has proven without a doubt that we are all one race--the human race. We are all in it together. We all suffer the same. And yet, we refuse to accept this simple truth.

That which binds us also divides us. It has many names, many theories. Some doubt its existence and some are ready to die to prove their interpretation is better than the rest. Some call him God while others see her as the vast Universe. 

Whenever I lean into my kind of belief system: poetry, nature, music and books, I find that all of us are, after all, seeking the same. 

We are all sitting with Snoopy and Charlie Brown on that pier. 

So, let us live and let live. Let us indulge in Zikr and recite any name, sing any song, dance any which way because in the end we are pigments of carbon housing a light that can light us up as brightly as the sun, if we have eyes that see and hearts that are willing to be open and welcoming.

"Sufis believe you must empty yourself of all egocentric tendencies before you can experience the divine. Only once the flute is hollow, can it produce music. The story Rumi tells is of a reed separated from the reed-bed so that it can be formed into a flute. The reed flute bemoans his separation, and cries out."  

says the author of this post: Drunk in Zikr (worshipping through the arts)

I urge you to stop and listen to Rumi's Ney Name before you read on.

How do you feel? Hollow? Full? At peace? Not quite?

No worries, let the hills of Khasi in Eastern India bathe you with their story water for a few moments. You will see that despite different centuries and different continents, the flute and the duitara sing the same song. 

If you want to stay on for a bit, you can click on: Mawphlang: of sacred groves

I'll repeat and repeat and like the Sufis get drunk on this zikr--we are one. We are one. We are one.

But, we have to pay attention. We have to pay attention to each other. 

It's not my intention to preach. Please forgive me if in my excitement I become entangled in the yarn of repetition. 

Those of you who heard the poem, Yesterday is not alive I posted yesterday, know how I feel about phone screens. The Hindi word I used in the poem is called virah which means a longing. My longing for my husband's attention may sound petty and needy but if we are all carrying the Divine light in us, then doesn't paying attention to each other amount to paying attention to the Divine? 

This short film is called Virah. The producer of the film is Raman Iyer, an amazing story teller and mandolin player who has been telling a story every night for the past 387 days on Instagram under 'Midnight Musings with the Mandolin'. 

Zikr can be done in any form. 

I choose to remember the kindness, generosity, knowledge, beauty and love I have felt in this place, in this space with you all this month. I choose to be in Snoopy's camp and live, live, live my moments of breath so fully and fabulously that when the time comes to draw my last, I can say--I lived.

I hope to see you all soon. We shall reflect more fully in May.

Till then, take good care of yourselves and each other. Wishing you all a wonderful, peaceful, restful weekend with my favourite Ramdas's words, "We are all walking each other home." 

*I hope to thank everyone properly in my reflection post in May.

***** 

Last year, I wrote about the Light in Zarraa, Zarraa

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com 

U is for Umshiang Double-Decker Root Bridge of Meghalaya #AtoZChallenge

"We build too many walls
and not enough bridges."
Isaac Newton

(Please note that there is some ambiguity about which Newton really said those words: 

Sir Isaac Newton or Joseph Fort Newton)

I was looking for a quote (I'm still feeling quite quotish. I blame Q!) when this one caught my eye.

We're back in Meghalaya today. Back in the home of the clouds and the wise Khasi people who almost 200 years ago devised an ingenious way to cross rivers swollen with monsoon rains by planting Indian rubber trees on the banks of their rivers and training the roots of these trees through hollowed out trunks of the Areca palm to form sturdy, long-lasting natural bridges.

For a succinct and extremely well written account of the history and ecology of this unique phenomenon, click on this BBC travel story , where Neelima Vallangi's professionally taken photos will make you go wow. The extract below is from the same link:

"There are many living root bridges scattered across the dense valleys of Meghalaya’s Khasi Hills region, but the most spectacular and arguably the most famous is the Umshiang double-decker bridge, which is more than 180 years old. It is found just outside Nongriat, a small village that’s reachable only by foot, about 10km south of the town of Cherrapunji. The bridge’s two levels span the Umshiang River, and local villagers are adding a third level, hoping it will further attract tourists. (Neelima Vallangi)"

And for a wander through these dense, humid, lush forests filled with insect noises, bold butterflies, spider webs and fallen leaves, come this way...

 We have to cross a few scary bridges first.

 Almost there

 Here we are

Wave and smile:) 

They're the  best group of girls to go gallivanting with in the greens of Khasi Hills.

The next hour was spent immersed in this cool pool of water. It's a welcome relief after climbing down 3,500 steps in the sticky sub-tropicalal heat.

The first time you step in, you squeal--the water is so cold, unexpectedly so.

You settle in and then you go 'ouch' -- little fish have started feasting on your feet even before you've made yourself comfortable on the mossy rocks.

Lots of hilarity, more squeals and squeaks follow.

I followed a pair of butterflies. 

Perched on top of a rock, sitting very, very still, I clicked lots of photos and a short video which I've shared on my N post.

It was time to start the climb back. 

Yes, 3,500 steps!

So glad I packed my folding fan.

You can always stay in the forest if you like. Arrangements can be made.

But, please, please take your rubbish with you. Or better still don't bring any plastic bottles or bags that you'll feel tempted to chuck anywhere you feel like.

These are people's homes and their villages. 

The Khasi people have looked after their trees and their rivers for generations.

As a visitor, you're morally bound to leave their heaven as you found it.

******

Have you built or crossed any bridges recently?

R is for Rally for Rivers #AtoZChallenge #RallyforRivers

Everything I am is thanks to a river. 

Indus Valley Civilization.

Ganga, Yamuna, Saraswati.

My grandmother's stories.

The holy dips.

The picnics.

The films and even the shows on TV.

India's national anthem has them listed.

Rivers are mothers of civilizations.

Our mothers?

Really?

You call these polluted, dirty, shrinking trickles of stinking water my mother?

Are you out of your mind?

*****

#Rally for Rivers was an initiative started in India last year to nurture and replenish the rivers who've nurtured and replenished us for ever and ever.

 Sharing pictures of plenty today, 

of the bounty of 

these mothers of human civilizations.

First stop: Umngot River, Dawki, Meghalaya

(November 2017)

You'll find far better pictures of Umngot river if you google. When the time of the year is right and the light is good and you're good at taking pictures, you can end up with:

Photo courtesy: Google Imgaes

Yes, that's how transparent the river gets.

But ooing and aahing at photos is not the point of today's post.

Are we paying attention? Is the question.

Are we?

Sungudi Sarees drying on the parched River Vaigai, Madurai

(August 2017)

So full of colour, so full of sarees and yet this scene made me sad.

Greed at all levels: corporate, individual, community and country coupled with irresponsible consumption and lack of planning is making sure more and more of these rivers are assigned to the realms of legend.

 We may talk about them, write about them, dream about them, 

wish they were flowing among us

 when we face droughts and dry spells,

 but it may be (or will be) too late by then.

I understand that the planet has its cycles like everything else. 

Yes, rivers have changed courses all through human history.

Some like the Saraswati ended up underground even before humans built factories.

And today she flows only in myths and the Mahabharatha:

River Saraswati

(Sepetember 2015, Mana Village)

But, when did the rivers of this planet ask to be turned into dumping grounds?

When did our mother ask us to defile her?

The Sun sets on the mighty Brahmaputra

(November 2017)

N is for No to News #AtoZChallenge

I said No to News

in November of 2017.

Nothing on TV or in print made sense.

The theatrics, the wars, the stupidity of important people, the rapes, the murders, the cheating giants, the lying clergy, the ungodliness of holy men and women followed by more stories of displaced humans, hungry humans, dying humans followed by lavish weddings, IPL and football scores: words in print and uttered by newspeople deadened me bit by bit.

NO More! 

Enough! I said.

NO MORE.

I say NO to news.

And turned the telly off. 

But news sneaked in sideways, silently, like a stealth bomber:
invisible and indestructible.

Disguised as chat on coffee mornings, clinking along with the cutlery.
As face-less forwards on facebook and whatsapp finding its way to family dinners.
But before I could cry out: No More!
It would spill itself out on the floor--in full view--for all to see and comment on.
No mops were dry enough to soak it all up.
Dribs of it would linger and taunt me the next morning over clicking lunch boxes and goodbye kisses.

Then the weekend of 'M' post arrived with
news from Syria and then from India.
Its sharp shards muted me.
No words. No words. No words came to me that day. None.

News silenced me.

Silence is a place I visit often:
for there
resides the light within each darkness.

Silence settles me.
It feeds me morsels of hope
to carry on 
to do what I do
to do what I must do
to do what I have to do
to do a good job of being
of being human
of being a human being.

******

I'm feeling settled now.

The churning inside is less sharp, more gentle.

The sky outside as I type out this post is full of birdsong and feathery clouds. 

A rumble of thunder rolled a few minutes ago.

Perhaps, there will be rain in these parched parts.

Perhaps, there is hope for humanity.
Hope and beauty and kindness....
Sharing a short video I shot at Nongriat Village in Meghalaya last November.

*****

What have you said 'No' to recently?

Was it easy?

Has it worked?

M is for Mawphlang: of sacred groves, monoliths and promises. #AtoZChallenge

My apologies in advance for sharing an older post (written in November of 2017)in this challenge today.

My weekend has brought with it some unexpected plans which means that the time I'd assigned for writing the M post has been reduced to just ten minutes or so.

So, instead of marking an absence, I thought I'd continue with Meghalaya and share some more magic with you:)

Here goes...

But before you enter the sacred grove,

Take off the cloak, the mask, the camouflage.
Bring in the real you--
bare and brilliant
single and sufficient
older than time
younger than the last breath
timeless
formless
no body
no mind
no iffs
no buts
no good
no bad
no likes
no dislikes
no memories
no plans
no past
no future
no family
no friends
no ties
no loose ends
no laughter
no sadness
no highs
no lows
still
calm
eternal

a drop in the ocean
an ocean within a drop

Like a ripple seeking its shore

Come ...

meet your shore

He's been waiting for you all his life too.

More than four weeks ago, I found myself in this sacred grove: 

an old and protected forest in the East Khasi Hills district of Meghalaya, 

standing guard to the village of Mawphlang--

maw means stone, maw phlang: grassy stone.

A village, like many in this region, named after monoliths.

"Our Ancestors promised the Guarding Spirits of this land that we'd never build any houses near this forest, that we'd never take anything from the forest, that this piece of land is for the Spirits to roam and live. This is the promise our Elders made and we keep."

Basha, our guide, our soft spoken Khasi guide tells us.  

"This is where everything is prepared for the coronation.

Only the King and the Elders go on to the coronation from here.

The rest of the people wait here.

If the Elders forget to take anything they need for the coronation, they can not come back to fetch it. This is the place they must prepare before they carry on."

Basha continues.

I feel like I've stepped into the world of the Round Table and any minute now, King Arthur will appear.

This is where the coronation takes plays, says Basha, our guide with soulful eyes.

He speaks so softly, I have to still my thoughts to hear his words.

His pools of honey eyes gaze upon the trees, the moss, the mushrooms, the branches and the stones

like this is the first time he's stepped inside this scared place.

Listen...

The lime tree with his regal spikes

And its fruit that the birds ate...

Basha seems to know every inch of this almost 80 hectares of forest --
a sacred place: you take NOTHING from this forest
and even when you enter, you enter with good intentions.
No trees are cut, no branches felled, no fruit is picked, nothing is taken
but somehow the forest gives and gives.

There's a presence in this grove:
Ancient and Wise--
like a portal,
He beckons you
to step into the forest
and leave the jungle behind,
move towards a stillness
and cast the mad rush aside.

Basha, like many Khasi youth, is always there to show you around the Sacred Grove.
This symbiosis of man and earth:
of promises made and kept--
protected trees
 and sacred souls--
makes me wonder
why the rest of the us can't be more like the people of Mawphlang?

Step into this reminder of what we were really meant to be,
and how far away we have wandered.
Are we lost?
Is it time to head home?
Let's take the first step.
To be home.
To be.
Have a beautiful weekend.

L is for Laitlum Canyon #AtoZChallenge

Laitlum Canyon lies in the north-eastern state of Meghalaya in India. 

Meghalaya is made up of two words: Megha (meaning clouds) and Alya (meaning home).

Welcome to the home of clouds....welcome to Meghalaya.

Laitlum means 'end of hills'

and today my lovely, loyal readers, we're going to this lush canyon, 
nestled in the East Khasi hills of Shillong.

You don't have to do a thing.

 You don't have to carry anything either.
Bring you with you, though:)
Be here.
Be present: here and now.

Rain is predicted but the sky is still making up his mind whether 
to call the clouds for company 
or just be by himself.

So, all you'll need to do is keep your eyes and your heart open..,

inhale.

exhale

In the deepest of canyons, in the furthest of vistas, tea is available, hot and sweet, no matter where you go in India (or parts of India where tea is preferred to coffee).

 Sweet Sonya sold us a few cups of tea and even smiled for a photo afterwards.

Sometimes a random click can yield a surprising narrative:

 The sun was inching his way to set. 
And while the locals packed up their stalls to leave,

  the tourists tried to hold on to the last possible slivers of light to breathe in 
the 'arms-wide-open-for-a-warm-embrace' kind of beauty of this vast vista.

NO trek/wandering in India is complete without a plate of 
garam, garam Maggi.
Laitlum was no exception.

So long...till we meet again.

It's been a lazy kinda day for me.
It's matched perfectly with L.
How has yours been so far?