Lock-down 2020

#179

This year has put everyone to sleep; it has left us in cuts and bruises in the mind. The daily routine being trampled over to a lock-down living. Actually we never heard the word “lock-down” or “pandemic” and now we hear nothing else; imprisoned in our homes. 2020 is a cusp year - hopefully we change from a greedy consumerist society to a responsible eco-friendly living. Prayerfully!!

            3 full months – April, May, and June – have gone down the river of time; add 10 days of March and the count is over a hundred days of lockdown (25% of the year gone down the drain). How did this impact me? My loan process keeps getting delayed as a medieval curse which meant no earning or activity for 6 months of 2020. This year had this whimsical run on me. These are the residual memories:
 a)     Jan and Feb were two months when I felt the full force of apathy. I kept railing: The world is a maha selfish place, it cares no two hoots for me. Then these high-voltage energy thoughts stabilized to a rationale: It is the cost of living in a mass based society. We are besieged by numbers; we are rats in an army. Either fall in line or be swamped. And I am the rat that got run over!!!!   
b)     My notes on “Alexander the Great” in January; “Bhagavad Gita” recording in May, or resuming the “word study” in ages felt a tailwind for keeping the mind in good humour. But as the lock-down days kept piling, I found myself slipping into self-doubt and waiting (for the loan).  
c)      For a month – between May and June – I enjoyed the sea breeze on the terrace. I gave myself a 45 min schedule for a bit of chanting, knee exercises and listening to songs. But these days I am far too lazy. Now I content with 90 min of Vipassana and consume a lot of self-defeating television hours. I am ashamed to have consumed 9 episodes of "Aarya" and two full seasons of “24” (48 episodes in my hall of shame). When I am on a TV spell, I know I have hit my psychological bottom. The only redeeming factor is “Colt Clark and the quarantine kids”. There’s a 6 years old girl there who invokes a surrogate parent in me. Bellamy is too cute; this family band fills me with endorphins for a YouTube watch.  
        For me, living is mostly in the mind and so I should not crib too much on lock-down. More than fear of contracting Covid 19 or chained to a home, my main crib is “not trading”. More than money, stock market trading affords me thrills and spills. It’s an arena to test your hypothesis. When Glenmark reached a high of Rs.550, I planned a paper trade of shorting a lot. In less than three hours the stock went down to Rs. 475 and I would have made over 90 k for a “mental high” over a premise: a stock cannot have a 35% upside in two days and hope to stay there. The “options chains” said so in the morning and I danced with joy for a gut feel validation. Then it feels a flat tyre; easy earnings no longer possible as the loan is inordinately delayed.

            Slowly I stumbled on this insight on the "22 years of heart surgery" self-celebrations: Life is about waiting, patience and humility. It helps if you have curiosity and during these lock-down months my curiosity quotient is dry. Still I managed to hit on this insight: Most people particularly women lead an insular and minuscule life upon marriage and kids. To these brahmahastis; their world begins and ends with their kids. My siblings would have died of despair if a marriage or kids were denied. It would have driven them to an lunatic home while I frolic on my freedom. My immediate frustrations are the constraints of a  “minimum balance” living. I want my knees examined by a seventh generation Ayurveda specialist in the neighbourhood that T H Iyer mama speaks highly off, resume the SPARRC exercises for which I need a two wheeler, and a bit of swimming and guitar. That these activities have to wait a loan sanction is what is eating my soul. But I guess the answers should be out by middle of July – one way or the other. 
              What is boredom? No new thoughts in reading; books feel a weight on the mind and as insipid as masticating a chapathi in my IMT days. No new songs to dance; no new thoughts for the mind to revel. Then I console myself: wait for the monsoons that are near at hand. The South West would bring the smell of earth and the murmurs of a drizzle to a furnace city. Wait for the tailwinds of a loan sanction. Wait. 

Sushant Singh Rajput lessons!

#178

In over 14 years of blogging I have rarely commented on macro affairs. My blogs are almost always about me, my life experiences, how they impact me in feelings. I don’t have a “personal” side that needs hiding or masking; I am a very average person grappling through life issues. I think it’s foolish to live under a curtain; as long as you don’t share your account balance in your savings account or the passwords to your mails frankly nothing should be PRIVATE unless you are sleeping with different women or persuading another man’s wife to elope. If you pause to think, the world is callous. Nobody is interested in you, much less your stories. You might as well paint an apathetic world with your colours. I blog my stories for a reading value; it gives me clarity is my payoff. 

            Sorry we got distracted in this needless self-praise though entirely not out of place. It got us that “we can be open about our stories to our friends or anyone in the neighborhood” as long as it does not recoil on us. Now to SSR!

            I am not a movie goer, though I did watch “Chhichhor” on Hotstar. It was an average fare, I liked it though not bowled over. For an Indian movie, it was a refreshing but if your usual habitat is Hollywood this is a watchable time-pass ones. Then I heard the news of the suicide on Sunday. It did not affect me. But as I kept following the news on Twitter, I was caught in the heated nepotism debate. Seriously on Sunday the actor’s suicide was news but by the end of Tuesday the dripping poison of this debate had its venom. I felt outraged at the injustice. I saw all those Karan Johar’s slights, or that dumb Sonam Kapoor clips (Sushant Singh Rajput! Who??) and Alia Bhatt sniggering at him (I will marry Ranbir, kill Sushant and hook up with Ranveer) or the maha insult of SSR by shortie SRK and lanky Shahid Kapoor (On a dais of a film awards function, which was sickeningly patronizing) on Twitter. This is not my world, so please stomach my distaste and disrespect to a SRK or Alia or Johars. I never respected their creativity or their work, ever! 

            SSR’s death shows a mirror of our society – it does not respect talent at all. This is something I have been crying hoarse for decades in these blogs. We are self-centered and apathetic society. Maimed beggars at traffic signals does not make us kinder; we callously drive away when confronted with eunuchs and little five years’ girls who carries a baby half her size. I have repeatedly made this point ad infinitum: We are a rat’s society not only in terms of numbers but we also have a rat’s urgency to horde (it hides its food from the prying eyes of others, later itself forgets the place. Such a depraved self-defeating creative). So this nepotism makes sense: an actor would promote his son or daughter as much as a musician promoting his wards or a ex-cricketer making a phone call to the state selection board “Can you please include my son in the team?” This is no different from bribing a TTE for a sleeper berth in a train or paying donation fees to get your 3-year-old into the best convent school in town. I dare say that every Indian is a crook. What about me? Am I snow white in integrity? Fat chance, if Jayalalitha had sanctioned a petrol pump dealership, I would have no qualms erecting cut-outs or prostrating at her feet. 

            Now to SSR. What he did was wrong. You don’t commit suicide if you are out of big productions. Suicide over a love failure is laughable. There are plenty of fishes in the sea. When I was dumped in romance, I was angry but never suicidal. I rubbished her name to mud in my blogs. With time, I realized without an atom of doubt it was a lucky escape. Actually when you ponder there is no reason why anyone must self-deliver unless a terminal disease and you can’t digest your food or you need someone to clean your ass.

            A mind slips into depression when the thoughts get into a cyclic pattern almost helplessly to “I am worthless and I am good for nothing”. But depression sets in those weak people whose inner wiring feeds a strong self-critic. Or those who live on others crumbs or evaluations. These days each of my blogs invariably ends with this leading premise: there is no medicine better than “learning to respect and loving yourself”.  The mind needs to anchor - I am respect worthy, I will not put myself down or allow anyone to put me down including gods or devils or a fuckin Bollywood asshole.

            Imagine I have a story session with a Salman Khan or Karan Johar over my screenplay. I will be nice and courteous. If they were to say, “Sathya, we will get back to you.” I will say my goodbyes in the calmest tone, “You don’t know what you are missing out. It’s your loss entirely.” Even if nobody finds it “movie-worthy”, I can live with it. But on no account I will drool saliva or fawn over them. This is a scene I did not conjure up now for a blog post. I actually lived it. After “O my darling India” was published in 2009 I thought “story writing” would be a natural career option. I dreamed of book signing fame and being interviewed by BBC. But I met a couple of literary agents and publishers that left me so tepid that I threw in the towel. I stopped marketing my manuscripts. I realized that the Indian publishing is pulp while I am semi-literary. My attitude was: "You don’t deserve me or the Indian reading public’s wavelength is too low for me to dig my nose in.” I realized soon that we are a English speaking nation but not a English reading one. I made my contempt for Indian publishing houses so public in my blogs that TOI did an article on my views!!!! I did not stop with this. I took writing samples of a Bachi Karkaria, Chetan Bhagat, Shobaa De, Santosh Desai and many others and edited it for a better read. I had the audacity to send that link to them and inflict a personal humiliation. 
               Even in Abu Dhabi when Mohan was ramming the rod to a colleague’s ass every day I had the gumption to stand up and say, “Sir, I can’t take this verbal lashing every day even if it is directed against somebody. I am quitting.” I walked away from a 2 lacs a month job without even a second thought.  When HDFC bank rejected my loan application after two months, I wrote to the CEO and even the Finance Minister. They sent a team of four managers to my house to placate me!!! Love yourself to such intensity that not even Gods can insult you. Of course they will be many people born to run you down, or find fault and cavil. Don’t believe them and if you are as much a cunning fox as me, they will end up eating out of your hands.

Post Script: Self-respect is something you are born with.  When I was working in Contract Advertising, Blore in 1994 my manager John would twist a knife for a bully, "If the report is not in my table by 9:00 am, you will kiss the job goodbye." I replied, "Teach me advertising for a month and then I will teach you." In 1988 my father was invited to T Subbarami Reddy's daughter's wedding. That man was a film producer and a politician and those in attendance were stars like Sridevi, Jayaprada, Jeetendra and so many of them. I accompanied my dad for the wedding. They had two entrances; one in which he and his wife greeted the stars while the second one was manned by his manager to usher in lesser mortals like my father. I cringed at the slight, refused the dinner while my father went for a bite.  But for me the most vivid memory is Vinod in school. He walked up to Sam Pitroda (during the Rajiv Gandhi government) and said, "Your reservation policy stinks."  Sam replied, "Man, you seem a little frustrated."  When he narrated his incident to me, I asked, "What if he had thrown you out?" My friend replied: I would have taken a front page advertisement in Deccan Chronicle with Sam and my picture next to each other and then say "this man asked me to GET OUT." The message is clear: You don't go out of your way to get into tangles with authority. But if you are slighted, give it back. 

Living in Palavakkam

#177

Be it Besant Nagar or Palavakkam the core of my life has not changed; the contour and the template is the same for decades. I have never been an outdoor person given the acute arthritis; this suits me actually. I am a lazy sod for physical labour; even invalids do more walking and outdoors which is fine by me. I am not remotely envious. Rather I am content lying down, or watching a movie or listening to songs or just squander away time when nothing seems right. Nature made me a thinking machine; I don’t want to distract the flow of thoughts to fitful expenditure of physical energy when the mental harvest is so much better.

            Slowly Palavakkam is registering on the mind. My golden 30 min is in the terrace where I chant a few slokas and do a wee-bit of pranayama. I like the night skies, the breeze hits the body hard and I stare at the skies. It is a Aamir Khan staring at empty spaces for a “visionary scholar” pose except I am more original than that fucker. I watched “Jojo Rabbit” this week and felt that we Indians can’t make such a high quality movie for the next hundred years. I loved “Togo” and then “Mary Poppins returns” in this lockdown.

            Slowly I am getting pally with the neighbours. I invited a person home; he happened to be a rare Brahmin in the locality. I shot an exploratory arrow: I am yet to perform a homam in the new house. Could you recommend a priest? kinds. These are half-volleys to a fellow Brahmin – ritualistic by nature and also bonding - where he gets a chance for a lovely cover drive.

            I am steadily recognizing the virtues of my cook, Nalini, which is not apparent at the surface. She vibrates hyper energy; ready to rebut or snap. Meera was friendly and you could even crack a joke and have a laugh. Thangam was the school principal who vibrated a lot of patience and gravitas. Nalini on the other hand is emotionally uptight; it’s difficult to have a conversation. But she is mighty resourceful. She got my ration card registered in a PDS here. This month I was getting sick and tired of sambar; she coaxed me to buy the Idly batter (they come in sachets). Her cooking drives me to despair; there is a certain decisiveness about a brahmin cuisine and try as hard she could never muster. Yesterday she requested a Brahmin lady in the neighborhood to teach her for a week. That lady is a wife of a retired Income Tax officer (so definitely high placed is society) and Nalini brought her to my house for a few free tuition sessions. Palavakkam has that village spirit, even in the grocery store the lady is game for a chat or free advice. I smile heartily and say a few inanities: Modi might lift the lockdown this week or something equally banal. I get a lot of banter from Vijay Agencies where I buy chips and grape juice bottles. Definitely a lot friendlier than Besant Nagar!!!

            The last 4 days I have been listening to OPTIONS online classes – each day there’s almost 6 hours of content and that goes for 5 days.  Just to hear Kapil Mokashi on Options is a privilege. He says, “Teaching Options online is a challenge for both the students and me. I end up having sore throat, but as long as my students benefit it’s no big deal.” Kapil is a kind of man I would like to be in my next birth; he is quiet but put him in front of a classroom and he comes alive. On discipline he said, “You may have the best course material and the best teachers but it’s your own efforts that will tilt the balance. You can’t expect others to do pushups for you!!!” After Mariam Janahi in Bahrain in 2003 I have not come across a person so perfect in demeanor. He is not a friendly person but once he returned my missed call and we spoke for 30 minutes and it felt a privilege. I felt as honored as when Mariam poured tea for me in her house; an Arab inviting you and serving tea is higher in standing than the Nobel peace prize. 

            TH Iyer mama calls me twice a day. He is as regular as a parent. I was telling him, “The first thing I will do after getting the loan is spend a week in Bangalore for knee treatment.” Dhamma Mani Sir knows a place where they take care of body aches and arthritis; he promised to tag me along next month. TH Iyer mama suggested a Ayurveda option in Chennai itself. I will try both; I need a respite from this acute lingering pain. Even if the pain comes down by 25% I will sign half of wealth away for a hyperbole.

            I slowly realize that there are heroes all around. Nalini is a woman of resilience and character. There is a story here but I shall respect her privacy. Kapil is a role-model; these recordings (I applied for this classroom session but I was waitlisted. But they were gracious enough to give access to the recordings) is getting me confident. I feel the twitch of my fingers to resume trading. He is 37 and as classy as the great Mariam Janahi. Both talk as smooth as a Rolls Royce, both use silence more effective than speech something I am yet to learn.  

I am 51 and I am scared; I have lived on my own for more than a decade. Each year is getting difficult. If I can earn in the 2-3 lacs range a month, if my knees get a little better then I can dream of swimming and hiring a guitar instructor. Frankly I don’t wish to give god a natural death, I feel tempted to blast my brains just for kicks. I am a veteran whose time is long up, nothing excites me. Not even the turbulence of the stock market (I am very passionate on my trade plans) or even if Queen of Sheba or Helen of Troy seduces me under a umbrella in those lounge seaters on a Pacific ocean beach. I am too self-immersed to take a female. But that's where living begins, drama starts. And room for disputes and arguments that my nerves can't stand. As of now, let me wait for the loan which is expected this week and bear the knee pains with the patience of a sage. Patience thy name is Sathya.....

Being “alive”

#176

I realized this of recent making: my life is essentially a desert-ish but there are moments where I come alive to every atom. I pray for 4-5 such occasions in a year where my mind is absorbed to the point of losing my identity; I am not self-conscious so dipped in an activity. This is the magic of being in a zone, at times when I write there is no “I” or even the “keypad” or the “screen” – all merge into a state of timeliness where a beginning of a thought takes flight on its own. These are few moments in life – very rare – that you feel the presence of the divine. Nature does not intrude on your life, but it’s the one that determines your destiny. There are thousands of unsung geniuses for every Bill Gates and a Steve Jobs. Most of them bloom unseen and unappreciated but what the hell they do become instruments on which nature plays its tune.

            A bit self-serving argument but let me explain further to make this obscure point. In the last three years there were certain events that got this timelessness in me:

a)     Going to SPARRC in 2019 got in a lot of endorphins in the system. Exercising for an hour under the watchful eye of a trainer, there is nothing remotely exciting about it. Bring some banter, supply your own humour, put some positive characters and you feel a bit of magic about living. Being in India, there are few occasions where the “environment is conducive”. It’s like being in SDP’s or Rajaram’s company, each time I talk to them my mind conjures up a startling insight or my humour is on the plane of a Beans or Jim Carrey! They give me the “space” to take liberties and the mind feeds on that little won freedom and rewards itself.

b)     I loved the one week in North India last year – be it the 50^th birthday part on day-1, day-2 at Saharanpur and a jungle safari at Rajaji National Park, then Haridwar and Rishikesh on day -3 and 4, before ending with a four hours scooty ride in Mussoorie that was a “standout” amidst standouts.

c)      I loved writing “Bangalore Vipassana” reminiscences of March, 2019 and also July round of “meditation at Igatpuri” (it was a three-part series). For me, doing the “Portraits” series in 2017 was the road to recovery. That finally convinced me that I was alive and it felt that a writer in me can never be extinguished. I may get rusty and pedestrian but there’s a vein of creativity embedded here, I treat my words with a lot of affection and at times their magic shows on page.

d)     Oh, how much I loved each of my Mumbai visits – Core strategy in June, 2019 then August for Future and Options in September.  I was mad with anger during the Options classes but a simple taxi ride with the instructor got in some much of healing and embracement. Today Rahul is one of my best friends, so is Kapil. Both instructors are possibly the best trading professionals of this zombie Bharatmata. OTA and SPARCC have a commonality – both hire professionals who vibe well, they squeeze out a measure of positivity from the interactions.

e)     I loved Madurai for those four days in December 2018 – flying into a tiny airport in a small plane, those temple visits especially Madurai Meenakshi was a memorable visit. But it was travelling in the 3 hour passenger trains from Madurai to Tenkasi for Courtrallam Falls or Madurai Rameshwaram that fetched the mind those special moments.

There are some Vipassana centres which vibrate this specialness: I always loved the Bangalore centre; Igatpuri, Kolhapur and Nagpur (there is something to Maharashtra; I visited these places during monsoons and it was a sheer delight) felt soothing to the mind; Hyderabad centre vibrates authority to me, Chennai is like common salt and so prosaic that I usually give it a miss. There is no rationale to how your mind is wired for its perception but treat it with respect. Don’t stray too far from its inferences, life is mostly about “how you feel” rather than any charm of its own.

            2020 had its share of “special moments” that felt a privilege to live. My mind was dancing with excitement when I wrote the four-part Alexander series, I loved myself doing the audio files of the Bhagavad Gita summaries on Anchor. I also relished my drinking sessions with Ranga at Maris, sad those days are denied to me from this extended lockdown. Ranga has a mind that soars from the drab of life. The best part of such timeless moments is “you don’t plan for them” for it just imposes itself on you. That’s where you get spontaneity and creativity, they seem to flow inside you. Otherwise for most part, it is dal, chawal and roti. Life is dreary as a hot summer breeze in a Sahara, there is a revulsion to waking up each day. But the compensate is phenomenal when nature decides to use you as its instrument. When you love others as much as you love yourself then magic flows. Reality is "most times we fall into self-pity and self-hatred and look at the world with apathy" but for these special moments. When you love life, it sometimes loves you back. 

Digging in the dark

#175

Digging in the dark and alone; that’s me in a drama of life.  Just pause, allow the flow of thoughts to settle a bit, take a ride above them and what you do know about yourself? Very little, I would wager. The biggest riddle in the universe is to understand the nature of your own mind; when it spikes up to “agitating” thoughts or how frequent and what are the areas the thoughts – lustful thoughts or revenge or forlorn or grieving ones – that clasp you with.

            Vipassana and Mindfulness has got in a lot of self-awareness for me. I learnt to observe myself. I was shocked at myself; the last year's river rafting run in Rishikesh got no adrenalin. I was imperturbable despite the chilly glacier water swamping me in that small inflatable rubber boat. I should have been squealing like the rest of the crew; but sadly not even a whimper. Throw back to 1998 in Manipal Heart Foundation where there was a procedure for draining fluid from the peri-cardium in the Cath Lab.  It was hot summer May morning at 10’0 clock, I had just turned 29 in that week's stay at the hospital, when a patient next to me suffered a cardiac arrest. He was shrieking in despair: Darling I love you. It is hurting, I am scared. This is the end. His rant was so infectious that my heart rate which was a steady 90 beats to a minute now climbed to 135. You see, we are all connected to those computer terminals that shows your pressure points and heart rates, it was then I realized how toxic negative spikes in energy is for the poor heart. This incident had a huge impact on my psyche; after this I intuitively avoided noisy people and any place that got crowds in. I learnt to appreciate quietude. And now in May, 2019 my heart just wouldn’t race to the river run in the Ganges at Rishikesh!!!!

            On 12^th May, 2020 I went to RTO Office at Thiruvanmiyur. I was excited to be on the ECR again after two months of cooping in my apartment at Palavakkam. My driving license was renewed and I felt a surge of excitement for a while. I came home and was sick for two days. Any time my mind views more than a dozen people, it just shuts off or feels fused out – such has been my cooping, a claustrophobic cloistered living.  Then on Saturday, 30^th May, I spent two hours in familiar Besant nagar for bank errands and bit of food shopping. And ever since my mind feels like the churning of a giant wheel. Being so alone, my mind is fused out, jaded, drained out when I see crowds!!!

            And of the best things I realized about life and me was “I don’t know whether I am a force for good or evil in this innings here.” There is no doubting the courage and perseverance; I have lived 51 years without basic affection. If a mother rejects a child, it usually doesn’t make it. The first relation of a baby is with the mother, if that equation is messed up then life is an uphill task – swimming against the current – for a life. I had a terrible mother, physically abusive father, apathetic sisters for the first twenty years of life. All those scars manifested as cyclical depression in IMT days. I entered adulthood without a ray of hope like a hapless lamb waiting to be slaughtered, the road ahead was a suicide or a mental asylum. Then came heart surgery, a woman burst out of nowhere and when that relation flunked I knew: I am back to “on my own” territory. I have a lot of friends but pause to reflect: I never had anyone in the house who owned me up. I was a rotten potato, abused and reviled in my first twenty years. Then next 30 years were in repairing this rotten apple. There is tremendous heroism for an attempt at becoming normal, this journey was my own. That’s a reason why I don’t reserve faith in Gods above – nature has not furnished me one reason to be grateful for.

            I ask myself: what will make me happy now?  The answer is immediately intuitive: I would love a bonding with a human being. I want to be trusting and bonding (sharing banter, feeling worthy of myself, feeling wanted in the eyes of another person). Such a bonding happens only in a man-woman relationship and I am past that station. Now if I chance across a woman of my dreams and fantasies, it would be hard labour in the bed. As a friend jocularly said: my testosterone levels have dipped, there is no more joy in the bed. Actually the coitus looks a horrible joke. So where does it leave me? Can I come across a place or a person in whom I can reserve faith without necking and tonguing? Conceptually it's an oxymoron, and it is. Most probably I will have to manage my old years on my own just as I have these 51 years.

            Earning 3-4 lacs a month on the bourses will not get me out of my skins exulting, it’s more a par for the course. My knees is unlikely to improve. If I save a wish, I would love to play guitar like a rock band front man. Singing and playing the guitar is the best I can hope from this point in life, maybe get in swimming too. I might take on to the Kumbakonam air, at least that place guarantees me “Brahmin Iyer food” that Palavakkam does not. To my mind, I can’t think of anyone who has brought more courage and patience to life than me. Yet the question remains: Am I a force of good or evil? I cross my heart and affirm: I don’t know. I don’t know what attributes are rewarded in life or after death? But one thing is sure, I may reach an abode meant for the greatest warriors or I might be condemned to the worst dregs, a place where the waste rots away. I am usually the worst or the best in a situation, there is no middle comfort zone of safety. Simply put, I am not sure whether I am a force of good or evil. Trying to figure out would be the course of my reminding years. Even now there is no destination in sight or the roads mapped, I trudge along none wiser. I am a lost kid in a cosmic traffic fare in downtown. I used to holler as a kid, now I am that derelict beggar in the corner of the street. Apathetic as the world around is. 

Daily Mindfulness practice

#174

There are very few lives on earth that’s more recluse, the only visitor is a COOK for 30 min, rest of 23.5 hours I am on my own. Not for weeks and months but years.  I must be getting something right.

            Staying alone is an attitude of non-dependence on others, here are a few MINDFULNESS practices that I recommend for myself.

a)     Acceptance: When I wake to a new day, I mostly feel empty and hollow. The first thing for an activity is “watch my breath for 10 min”. I tell myself, “learn from the wisdom of the next breath. It is new and life-giving. I trust it to come, today is going to be a great day.” Then I chant 10 Gayatris before brushing the teeth. ACCEPTANCE is a difficult quality to practice, it needs brutal honesty. I suffer no emotional overload that my parents were the worst in civilization. There is no rancor here; the forgiveness is complete. When it comes to my siblings, my view these days is “maybe it’s a karmic debt I am serving from the past.” I tell myself, “There is no romance to my life, I need to be physically healthy and as long as I have monies in the savings account, I will be fine. There are things I wish were different – the “loan against property” has been going on for months. I frankly see these 5 months of inactivity as a blessing – haven’t I not gained in courage from reading Alexander, haven’t my writing improved a wee bit from words study, and boy am I am not glad of the Gita talks on Anchor. (Of course, I know my life is as dry as a summer leaf but I have come a long way. I remember my first clinical depression in IMT in 1990 in the winter months – those days I would run a lot for a therapy. Now 30 years later, I am much wiser and emotionally stable. There is a lot of self-congratulatory endorphins here).

b)     Trust: This is a beautiful therapy each time the mind slips in self-pity. I tell myself: I trust my body for its intelligence, my kidney and heart have been ticking without moans, my eyes and ears have not let me down. I trust the next breath to come. If the body and mind is so intelligent, why then should I doubt my ability to manage the affairs of the day. 

c)      Non-judgement: I am often a victim of attributing evil motives to my siblings but then they have a point of view that’s as valid as the noon sun. This family did not give them much by way of bonding and pray why should they “debt service duty” to a brother? They found happiness outside, their present is more rewarding, and the past better cast away. Why raise this issue at all in the mind?

d)     Gratitude and Generosity: Before wrapping myself in the blankets, I throw my mind to the day – any phone calls? Any chance conversations in the shops or neighbours? Any reading or insights gained? I say a “thanks”. I love my beautiful apartment that comes with a beach for a terrace, I reserve a “thanks to my dad for it is his earnings that still sees me through with a sea-side apartment.” I also like to save a few “love” vibrations; I store positive affirmations when I am sitting on the computer table or resting my feet on the sofa or while the milk is getting warmed in the kitchen or when in the toilets. There are a million things to be grateful for: while eating, listening to music, playing the guitar, sitting down for meditations, daily 45 min on the terrace for a seaside breeze or even reading my own blog posts. 

There are moments in the day when I feel a passing cloud of stress. It's okay, life is never a straight road to heaven for it goes through serpentine routes. Mindfulness has given my mind this layer of emotional security: whatever be the confusion and chaos outside, my job is to be curious and compassionate to the flow of life on which I have little control. My test is keeping my composure, mine is the patience of a farmer awaiting monsoons. One of the best realizations came by recently: we fantasize life as some kind of an orgy where we are drinking and singing and enjoy corny jokes for a banter in a football stadium. Life is tough for everyone; it is this fantasy that makes us miserable to the mundane-ness of life. Keeping your sanity is a full time job for people whose childhood was a charred mind of insults and curses. 
              One of the best attitudes of life is “let the worst impinge on me, I have the resources within myself to see it through.” This trusting oneself is a daily activity, the best medicine for self-doubt and self-pity. Save a bit of love and affection for yourself. There is no rhythm or reason for our existence, much less to the confusions and worries of the mind; but we are here to learn peace and harmony. It is an adventure going nowhere. There is wisdom and ignorance on the outside, draw as much water from these wells. Keep plodding. Moment to moment, thought by thought and in each action feel this throes of life in your veins. Life is forgiving, you may fall by the wayside as many times in the day but you have the option to pick yourself up. That's the beauty of life. 

https://anchor.fm/thinksathya

#173

This is my best in a long while. Recording 15-20 min on each chapter of the Bhagavad-Gita (https://anchor.fm/thinksathya) I realized many things here:

a)     When I am passionate on a subject, I spare no effort. I was listening to Swami Paramarthananda’s weekend lectures when I was 29 to 34. There were times when I would attend 3-4 classes a week. Slowly my rough notes turned into transcriptions and now I have over 75 talks on SPIRITUALSATHYA. It would take me 3 hours of effort to transcribe a 60 min talk but it is something I am mighty proud to leave behind for the present and the next generation. My role here is that of a student, not one word is mine. Mine is limited to transcriptions and posting on a site for any reader to access the “dazzling brilliance of a great teacher.” When I first heard Swamiji in 1998, I thought: he is the best in the world, my search for a teacher ends here. Later on, I also transcribed MINDFULNESS masters. So if I am ever in need of motivation or a revision, I just have to visit my own writings.

b)     Doing these GITA talks I realized one thing – we get inspired from a talk, we make notes but the knowledge does not stay in the mind despite a transcription where you are mentally involved as to hear each line twice before keying in. Knowledge is like a flow of water; we are attracted by its life-sustaining role but we don’t know how store. For me recording these talks are like “knowledge stored in pots”. They never get stale, never lose their freshness, they retain the ability to inspire. Doing this recording my knowledge kept getting reinforced. I thought: even my sisters have a place in God’s scheme of things. It is my job to learn from their negligence; wise are those who learn from fools. There is a place for both goodness and evil to co-exist. They serve to reinforce my wisdom deeper. Any antagonism or bad blood here, I dig my own bondage.  

c)      There are so many learnings this Gita recordings afforded me – reduce world dependence, increase god dependence before you gain the knowledge that essential quality of the Lord and you yourself is the same. I learnt to appreciate the bounties of nature, the sun rise, the sea breeze, the trees, the birds around my residence. The universe is so vast yet my mind is hijacked by emotional starvation – my mind hankers for human bonding or the loan process to be expedited or feeling stiff over my unwieldly knees.  Our everyday living is myopic, it draws us away from the wonders and vastness of life. There is an inexhaustible precision in the way the universe is run. It is the same wise principle that runs our petty lives. The chaos and confusion of the mind has a cosmic purpose  – it affords all of us to toughen and purify our minds. There is a bigger picture beyond the narrow and immediate confines of my mind’s hunger list of wants. Life demands inordinate patience and self-efforts, you don't have the luxury of throwing in the towel. 

              I learnt one thing – I am the laziest soul on earth. But when I dig a well, I dig deep. These recordings and notes of Swamiji’s teachings and Mindfulness convinced me - a perennial self-doubter - I am a beaver when it comes to toil. I have the patience of an elephant carrying logs for a transport company or an ant that carries a ball of manure on a grass field. Now it’s time to grow in silence and tranquility. I have been blessed with the best teacher in Vedanta and the best Vipassana guru in the universe. Though my life looks vacuous on the surface, I am doubly blessed. Fools are those who make stories of their lives, wise are the ones who grow in mental strength and peace. In millimetres, in centimetres and inches, for wisdom is gathering one drop of water in the vessel at a time. 

Lockdown 3.0 blues

#172

I am bored as hell. Searching for a synonym, I greedily resonated to ENNUI that the dictionary threw up on a search: a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement.

            I find it difficult to stay motivated and hopeful in these lockdown days. The biggest grouse of my life now is “When is the loan coming?” Though I have three credible sources, every blessed thing is halted in this lockdown. So hold your horses, don’t allow the mind to run into a frenzy are my affirmations for the days.

            In April I combed my word-list collection for a shortlist of 500 words that I should use more often. Not only I jotted it down for a two weeks’ study, I made a recording of them. Navigating through words and idioms give me a high, these recording fill vacuous afternoons.  

            Then in May, I found my own blog posts of Bhagawad Gita on SPIRITUALSATHYA inspiring. Swami Paramarthananda’s talks are a marvel, this time I made a short 15 min recordings of each chapter on Anchor (Gita talks). This is another two weeks of good usage of time. In April I was logging in two hours of Vipassana sittings in a day, by May my patience waned. Now I do an hour of Vipassana and try to get in 20 min of SPARRC regime for my knees. I tried to read a PG Wodehouse in ages, I soon found my mind popcorn fried – low on energy and high on pessimism that after a couple of pages I cast it aside.

            My hero for the two months lockdown is TH Iyer mama – he is 88 years old and he calls me twice a day. We have known each other since 1998 but our friendship gathered depth only in 2016 when my mind was in the darkest dungeons. These days – April and May - stretch like a lost train on a desert in grueling summer sun in Africa. TH Iyer mama’s calls is the only time in the day I get to open my mouth – his mind is sharp and he is high on faith and discipline. Each day he calls at 9 in the morning, “How is your day? Did you get your driving license renewal? What did the cook make for you today? What is happening on the loan front? Did you talk to Prakash? This concern is a tonic for me – in this planet at least I have one person batting for me.

            Over the last fortnight I discovered the pleasures of my terrace. I wait for 6’0 clock in the evening, such is a scenic beauty awaiting me. The terrace feels like being on the beach, the view is fantastic with lot of trees and birds. I sit on the staircase to the motor room and take in the breeze, the gale winds of the Bay of Bengal sweeps over the Chennai land mass feels a healing of tired minds. The breeze is so strong that crows are tossed around in flight. Nature is always therapeutic; my love for this house shoots up at this time of the day regardless of the obstacles in the loan process. At times I chant some slokas, if energetic I stretch a few limbs, I water the plants and I practice mindfulness. This 40 min is sacrosanct, I don't despoil it wallowing in self-pity or forebodings.

            I also re-ignited my friendship with Ashish after a cloud of mis-understanding. The matter was trivial and it is foolhardy to re-visit those regions again. He was large-hearted, I am more than happy to rediscover our friendship.

            I feel so bored on some days that I do a lot of Rudram or Gita chanting; the guitar holds no attraction after 20 minutes. It is then I realize how much I miss the SPARRC morning sessions. If 2019 was a good positive year, it had to do with this daily discipline. It resolves me to get a two wheeler and resume those morning rehab exercises at Besant nagar.  
           Yesterday TH Iyer mama said, “Sathya, stop hurting your sibling with your stupid mails. Maybe it is this negativity that is affecting your loan process.” This is my Achilles heel as my mind reflected on guruji’s words: It never pays to be the cause of someone’s misery. Nature punishes you first, here and now, robbing your mind of whatever peace gathered over time.

            I love my Bhagawad Gita recordings, I was introduced to Gita when I was 22.  Only now at 51 the mind is matured to relish its full fragrance. When I sit on the terrace, I ponder over these wonderful thoughts of Karma yoga and nature of Brahman. I loved “Mary Poppins returns” and “Togo” on Hotstar Disney. I watch very little of television, zilch reading and so I chew on my long thoughts to fill the long hours of the day.

            The world around is neither a source of joy or sorrow. I keep praying: Lord, give me some energy to discover some positivity in myself. The best of these times was “renewing my driving license”. It’s a story that merits a blog post to itself but let me serve the gist. My driving license expired last year as my clock hit the 50^th birthday. Nitin Gadkari gives one-year extension for renewal. For first three months of 2020 I was as frantic as a bird that lost its young one to a predator in my chase for “change in address in Aadhar card”. I paid the renewal fees, had an appointment and the officer rejected my application for lack of new address in Aadhar. Now I tried a second time with the Besant Nagar address, engaging a Xerox shop owner opposite the RTO office (his main business is giving medical certificate, fixing appointments and getting those application forms). My license would have overrun the one-year extension, how I reached my papers to this man is some anecdote in the lockdown days of no traffic on the roads.  He fixed an appointment, paid the fees on my behalf just one day before my 51^st birthday.  The RTO opened this week and there I was on 12/5 with these set of papers. They took my snap, scrawled the signature on a digital pad and presto within 90 min I had the smart card. I felt waves of joy flood the veins and neural systems. Not even climbing the Everest would have been so rupturous!!!! Now I proudly display the “smart card” on the cupboard. So each time I open it for books or clothes, I gloat over my smartness. On such small wins my life rests and I am not complaining. But seriously, I need to get the 2019 discipline of SPARRC and resume stock market trading again for happy hormones to flow.  

Facebook thoughts

#171

My facebook posts are usually mindfulness thoughts; they spring at a moment and at times I record it. When I was a cub writer in 2006, I would pen down any gem that popped out from the cranium. But now that's not the case. Trust me, writing gets infinitely easier if you have only you to impress. Now for these thoughts (you can find me as "thinksathya" on FB):

             We are such poor listeners. I recorded half a dozen calls with my friends, I played them back and the conversations sounded awful. Nobody was listening, each bidding their time to interrupt. I also realized that the attention span is so little, don't speak more than 3 sentences at any point in time. People switch out much before then. People are not evil, they don't think bad for you but they are obsessed in themselves. They don't live to serve your purpose, so don't waste time. A good conversation is one with a lot of pauses, bad one is a Rajdhani express. Never EXPLAIN, don't ever be in a conversation where you are not listened to. They only add up to NOISE. 

Money and fame are external world's validation of you. Totally unreliable and fake - they come & go and fickle. The world outside is never smart, so don't pay any heed on your money and fame quotients. The world perpetuates itself on glamour and money. We live in an age where a Kim Kardarshian the porn star would rank higher than an Einstein or Newton on the page 3 supplement. I am literally a zero - I stay alone barring a few friends - but I have lived. What money and fame the world denied, I confer self-love and self-compassion. The journey is long and tough, be your best friend and 24 hours support (you are the ambulance driver, surgeon, cardiologist, critical care and nursing for your mind). Keep faith in one person and just one person alone - not Buddha or Vipassana or Mindfulness but "Sathyanarayanan". When troubles knock at the door, look at the mirror and smile. You will see it through. As always.

As you keep peeling life experiences one thing gets clear: all our lives are spent in a search for love (understanding and care). We keeping running from foolish people who latch on to you to desperately seeking love and understanding from wise ones. Remember it is only the wise who listen to other's grievances, generate empathy - the only bridges of connection to another's mind and heart. But the supply of wise ones is always perpetually in drops and drips. In the end, we are saddled with fools, our lives spent running in meaningless chases before realizing an eternal truth: There is no one apart from "I" and everything is just a passing illusion. So don't play the fool to yourself. 

Is there a god who rules our destinies or are we products of randomness? I believe there is no GOD directing planets in orbits; it is unlikely that GOD would direct the SUN to revolve around a larger galaxy and the nine planets around itself. It's pure Science and specifically the laws of gravitation. The universe is self-evolving and self-sustaining like a weed, it needs no supervisor either for its order in precision or madness in chaos. But we humans create god for we are swamped by grief and sorrow. We invented religion to bring order and discipline to our minds; needless to say failed miserably.  We are emotionally very fragile (it takes very little to break our hearts) but we think we are super-smart. Life is an adventure none of us have the manual, we write our own rules and these keep revising with experiences. 

51 times around the sun

#170

No bookie would have given me higher odds than 1 is to 1000 on “Sathya reaching 50+” even a decade back. But then I live to survive and stack up the years. In nature’s scheme of things some people should never grow old – I would hate to see an old Jonty Rhodes, we remember his athleticism and “dash to the wicket and flying in the air to hit the stumps”.

            The last four days were glorious days where I mined through over 800 comments and made 8 blog posts of them. It felt like cleaning the cupboard in a decade, you come across antiques – like your 8^th standard report card, or a love letter you got from a classmate or the now tattered novel gifted by your first sweetheart in school. I have nearly a 1000 blog posts and these reflect my times under the sun, this week I realized that the “comments” were the world’s validation of me. “Comments” come with this extra feature that one’s own writing doesn’t; when I read my blog post of 2007 I almost know the next sentence. It’s my genetic wire hidden barely under the skin. But each time I read someone’s comments, there’s a novelty and freshness. One thought stuck in my head after the exercise: I have lived long, I have lived deep and I have been strong. I felt like Alexander reflecting on his achievements in his dead-bed as soldiers gathered around him one last time for a head shake recognition or a hand shake.

            Yesterday was just another day except I had a bath at 7:00 am (instead of the usual 8:30 am) and chanted “Dakshinamurthy slokam” and I also managed 20 minutes of SPARRC exercises – a birthday motivation for I am lazy here. TH Iyer mama was the first caller and he sang “Happy Birthday to you.” He is a very accomplished person and this was a grand gesture. He is 88 years old, with a razor sharp mind, and he has grown affectionate over the years. Ganesh Shenoy called for a quick “Happy Birthday Machan.” With him, I slip into “mama” and “machan” as fillers in a conversation. Sandeep Lakhina called in the afternoon and I said, “I don’t have 21 friends. Not all of you are as capable as you (in Hindi).” He laughed as he did a Facebook post thanking each friend for each day of the lockdown 1.0, “Any celebrations today?” I said, “Not by a mile, I don’t remember even cutting the cake and blowing candles for more than 5 or 6 times in my 51 years.” I am recluse alright and it sits well with me.

            The best part was the surprise call of Deepak Mehra from Dubai and it made my day. He said, “I can see your growth being a regular reader of your blogs, “which sounded the best sentiment by far. I said, “I envy the Punjabis for their bonding, family and friends stick to one another in a crisis.” Deepak said, “It’s your romantized view, maybe it stems out from your siblings’ indifference. In normal families, people do stick with one another.” There were half a dozen greetings on Facebook, another half a dozen on Messenger and some more on SMS and Whatsapp. As I hit the bed, my mind reminisced with gratitude the four callers of the day. It was also time for thanksgiving – doing the “Comments” collation my mind went back to the heady days of pUsHpA. It was a relation that had no rhyme, the pairing was like a “bird falling in love with a fish” and my heart blessed her a million times (remember I am lying on the bed) on her decision – the surgery was heartlessly cruel but the deed was wholesome. It saved my life and probably hers got better. I also prayed: God, I felt a million times alive during those times. God, just give me one more chance. Give a woman for whom my mind flips, my heart pounds, my hands to caress and lips to lick on the skin real estate. That’s the prayer and thought I left myself with as night stole over and sleep took over.

            51 years is 18,628 days (612 months and 2661 weeks). The best part is it’s 1,609,459,200 seconds. So I am a little more than 1.60 billion seconds and life is as many moments of living. God gives us painfully long lives, I was happy to live to write this tale. I am a genius in self-praise and self-congratulations and I told myself: Courage in adversity has never gotten so far. Sathya be praised and the Lords be praised for creating this wonder!!!!

COMMENTS

#169

There were 85 comments as entries on DAUNTLESSSATHYA- there are some where I keyed in from Whatsapp and Facebook and these were 2-3 messages pooled in one - and featured here are the ones I treasure. Why compile? It makes you feel good on a rainy day!!!! The first nine featured here are from OBSERVESATHYA while the rest are from this blog DAUNTLESSSATHYA. There are over 700 comments from THINKSATHYA, OBSERVESATHYA, SPIRITUALSATHYA, and WRITERSATHYA and I will tabulate them more as morale boosting exercise. 

ShivajaJune 29, 2008 at 10:21 AM

May you find more things each day to keep you whistling.....after all every thorn filed rose bush has sweet smelling pretty flowers too. Cheers! - Shivaja

Life flows like a river. Even the mightiest dam( read Geisha or Diva or whatever)can stop the flow for only so much time. The water will find other channels and flow in some other direction. Forgiveness is like these channels which help us find new directions and move on with life. on A new mind sans Geisha memories     Ben (1/11/2009)

A.SathyanarayananOctober 21, 2010 at 6:41 PM

I visited his office 10 years after his death. They were still using my father's letters as template (no wonder where I get my writing skill from). The bank manager lamented how the business of the firm has gone down. Even NTR remarked on hearing my father's death," Arunachalam garu was a good man".

Year end quote from our friend Kanchan Bhattacharya ( not necessarily a personal observation on you but about geniuses in general) Life is sad- from heights they fell so much, some into melancholy, some into penury, some just in the clutches of the God of Cirrhosis, or even worse, into the demon, narcotics! Creativity takes its toll... the genius has a fear of never being understood! on 2010 Experiences – reality bites

A.SathyanarayananJanuary 26, 2011 at 9:42 AM

Yesterday, the doctor's son was telling the steward serving coffee," Not in those steel tumblers, we prefer paper cups". I said," These are very special people. Oblige the doctor for he will give you free service if you are ill". The doctor laughed his heart out on a possible free case

tymkynFebruary 8, 2011 at 12:32 PM

Hi satya,

u took me by surprise in getting our yesterday's conversation on to the blog this fast.Satya despite ageing (me not u) u can be rest assured of lighter moments every time you interact with me.

Keep smiling and laugh 2 yr heart's content.Its sure to make you feel younger and realize that life is worth living.

bye dude
sdp

ambrosiaJune 16, 2011 at 2:24 PM

wowow I am inpressed. am reading it again. too many hometruths to take in one go

AnonymousAugust 29, 2011 at 11:14 AM

That's lovely... Orthoptists rarely get any praise these days. The ophthalmologist is usually the one viewed as doing all the hard work.

Venkateswaran1/29/2011 5:20 PM

I just stumbled upon this today, the 29th Jan 2011, after nearly two years of posting by you. For some time I didn't recognise myself in this. Anyway, thanks for all your ++ things said in this.
By the way, you do write very well. It has goven me an appetite to read your book. You promised me a copy but have forgotten about it. Otherwise, please remind me the title and where it is available?
Venkateswaran

A.SathyanarayananOctober 10, 2011 at 7:29 AM

Start again. Start with a calm and quiet mind. Start with an alert and attentive mind. Start with an equanimous and tranquil mind. (Then there would be instructions for the session). Goenka would end by saying: Work patiently and persistently. Work ardently and diligently. (this can be a mantra before starting any task. It is best mental preparation I find).

T.H.Iyer1/31/2014 8:42 AM

A remarkably frank and well worded description of your life in Abu Dhabi. Take things in your stride.

We miss you. Varadan has gone to Pondicherry for few days.

Mami and I send you our love and good wishes.

tymkyn2/27/2014 3:36 PM

For once you have found your happiness Satya. Happy for u. For sure it's going to last several years. God bless.

Ben2/26/2014 5:07 PM

Good to see you back to writing. Be happy and stay blessed.

T.H.Iyer7/27/2014 4:57 AM

Amazing style of reporting. Your self confidence level has increased and you are becoming more and more sober and self erasing.

You will succeed in your endeavours. It will happen exactly when you need it.

Soul Searcher7/27/2014 9:10 AM

Very nice narrative and a very positive way of moving on to whatever adventures life offers next. Look forward to the next episode from Chennai. Good luck and God speed in whatever you do...

Soul Searcher8/03/2014 12:21 AM

Quite a turnaround from your earlier piece.The writing is reflective and poignant. But dark and beautiful Melancholy is back. Whats' up Bro

Soul Searcher9/02/2014 11:15 AM

I was shocked at Robin Williams suicide too. Sometimes one just cannot understand the burdens which bring people down. You need not worry, you have 25 years to complete what you need to. Currently most people are productive till 70. :-)

As Robin would say in Dead Poet's Society "Carpe Diem"

tymkyn6/28/2017 4:25 PM

Heart rending. I wouldn't wish even my bitterrest enemy to experience this living hell. There's always light at the end of the tunnel.I hope and pray you find peace and happiness.As a literary work it's a masterpiece.

Siddhan7/13/2017 8:56 AM

Touching - Mother only as a biological one is not easy to imagine,. She not only give the elements of your body but contribute in the making of he psyche. What you describe makes one feel sad - It should not happen to anyone. But as long as you carry the hurt, it is not her problem but just "YOURS" alone. Throw this behind and walk out of the shadow.

T.H.Iyer7/07/2017 11:58 AM

You have indeed passed through tough times Sathya. Now the light can be seen at the end of the tunnel.

Siddhan7/13/2017 9:01 AM

The heat zone you have traversed could char many. Light at the end of the tunnel is seen by you still as a train coming to mow you down is incorrect - you are getting out of the dreary and dark phases two women tested your times. But movement like Tolle puts it and knowing that you have the treasure of redemption within you. No age and no time is inapt as there is life to be lived to the full - best wishes and love - Siddhans

My precious brother,
I'm deeply moved into tears after reading your post. Believe in the Lord and he will change the MESS in your life to a MESSAGE. You have gone through what many in fairy tales don't. Hang on, brother. I will cheer you even if no one does.  Suloch

A.Sathyanarayanan9/01/2017 5:46 PM

Take care and don't indulge in self-pity. Satya, you are a guy with class and brains - a rare commodity nowadays. SD Prabhakar

A.Sathyanarayanan10/01/2017 1:05 PM

Why do we hold on to a relation that gives pain? We are scared of loneliness and so any relation will serve even if it brings only sorrow to the heart. This post argues against such self-destructive attitudes

Narayanan Subramanian on Whatsapp: Sathya, if you have forgiven then you must forget too. She belongs to your past; you have so much to look forward to in your life. Better watch the road in front than have your sights on a rear view mirror.

A.Sathyanarayanan8/07/2018 11:11 AM

Mani Sir on Whatsapp (6th Aug): Yes you need to get up and pick up the pieces. Dismiss what happened as a bad dream though it cost you a lac. Hope cyber crime chaps nab this Uma Gayathri. You have my best wishes and prayers. Chennai probably did not deserve you and let's hope that Gurgoan benefits.

Ashish Bansal Great to note that you are signing up for soft skill company. Well written again though feel sad after reading what you have gone through and are still facing. Your strength is remarkable and your constant growth in all these adversities is humbling

Nandha12/18/2019 8:39 PM

I'm from Malaysia, planning to visit Kanchi mahaperiyar samadhi for blessings. Hope I get his blessings too 🙏 Thank you for sharing this insight.

Anonymous11/03/2018 9:33 AM

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A.Sathyanarayanan11/23/2018 3:57 PM

I wish to record these two compliments here. Anurag Gupta, my batchmate in another context wrote: These are powerful words spoken by an excellent writer. Not many can match you in your abilities. Another was Lalit Matai's "Sathya, there are lots of people in our batch who care for you. Don't feel lonely." Again in a different context but I want a place to store these and this is as good as any.

A.Sathyanarayanan12/14/2018 5:16 PM

Sathya,

You are on the right track and your greatest achievement in 2018 is to conquer yourself and build sufficient self confidence for achievening a lot in 2019

Lots of love,
T H Iyer

A.Sathyanarayanan12/29/2018 5:27 PM

On whatsapp (28/12)
T H Iyer: Well done Sathya, you are a great compiler

Arunanjali: Great wrap up- let bygones be bygones and start 2019 with zeal and joy! Life is about cause and effect. Everyone makes their own causes and live those effects. We make our own choices and see its manifestation. Good cause makes for good effect. Happy healthy and victorious 2019.

Dhamma Mani Sir: Read your blog on 2018 memories and very much liked the 10 k fine you promise to pay up in case you badmouth the bad 4. I would prefer a caution deposit instead> Should I send my bank account details? :)

Neetu: I am quite perturbed. You talk of FORGIVENESS and not practice at all. Just let it go. I prefer to read your posts on Guruvayur and Madurai which are bereft of this bitterness.

A.Sathyanarayanan12/29/2018 5:32 PM

Dhamma Mani Sir on Whatsapp: Hope this is your last post and this one resolution will surely take you forward. You will move from self-pity to earning the respect and attention and love from others that you yearn for. This is just the negativity that is denying you these gains. Now that you are resolved to shed your negativity, you will see a positive difference in your life. I pray 2019 will usher in happiness, peace and harmony. Concentrate on your writings positively and money and honour will follow. Good luck

Sailesh2/05/2019 8:51 PM

Glad to see a positive beginning in 2019 in your new home and may the happiness and good cheer continue.

Sanskrati4/03/2019 5:46 PM

Very informative post really appreciated your efforts. Also do visit.
Mcx tips

Shivaja6/02/2019 5:14 PM

Reading through felt like listening to you talk. And this friend of yours..Ranga, he has put the points aptly. Never thought of it that way. Yes if you had recorded would have illuminated the world, but then you have conveyed the gist of it and I liked it.

Ashish Bansal on Whatsapp (30/6): So well written. Your personal progress, your happiness quotient just keeps through. Your description of Chennai rains is fantastic - so relatable, so human. And finally tieing the laces with PUMA acquisitions. Feel very happy for you, my friend.

Shivaja: ...ur writing is effortless and natural. We the readers feel part of your life as we read.

giridharan7/08/2019 9:54 AM

I would suggest better try to travel somewhere until your mind says to stop. Then experience the climate and culture. And then comeback to home.

Ashish Bansal: Saying it again "very human" "very real" and it egged me to read on. It was humbling to know that our call meant so much to you. You are a wonderful person and "very human". Cheers to your lovely writing. Carry on.

Dhamma Mani Sir: Vipassana will give the mind the protective coating needed to prevent it from going to rust and ruin.

A.Sathyanarayanan11/08/2019 8:43 AM

Ashish Bansal on Whatsapp: Wonderfully written. Even through the roller-coaster of thoughts, I sense your mindfulness which is great achievement. You are aware of what is going inside and outside, despite the busyness that you have not experienced in a long while. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

RV Rajan: Excellent post. All the best in your new home. God bless!

Unknown12/02/2019 9:41 AM

Very nice post. Congratulations. May the Almighty bless you to complete registration of Green Park as scheduled.

Gopalan

RVRajan-Celebrating Life2/09/2020 9:05 AM

Sathya- I learnt very early in life that love, affection & respect have to be commanded & not demanded. I am delighted to learn about the initiative from your mother & sister. Reciprocate it with all sincereity. You will be a happy man. Remember the age old Tamil saying- Kutram parkil chutram illai. God bless.

A.Sathyanarayanan4/13/2020 8:50 PM

Dhamma Mani Sir on Whatsapp (13/4): Glad to note that you have begun to love and repose trust in yourself. Everything has a time and I reckon yours will come sooner than later. Take fresh guard and be on the mark, get set and go....

Shivaja4/14/2020 1:27 PM

Musings Sathya style. Original always