The computer went crazy last morning. Virus attack it was. Have been running the system since long with no anti-virus installed. Came in the technician, reformatted the system, installed an anti-virus. And now up and running again!


If only there was a way to install a similar anti-virus into our minds, preventing the seeding of any destructive thoughts and feelings in our internal system. An anti-virus, which would suppress the nagging voices squeaking hatred and terrorism, thus leading to a world filled with love and harmony. Peace and happiness. Leading to a world where no parent would have to worry about any bomb blast while sending their child to the school. Leading to a world where no country would have to spend a single penny to protect themselves from their neighbors.


When man, with his very limited intellect can create a Norton or an AVG antivirus to keep his system clean, I just hope God, with his infinite power and intelligence, would soon install a similar anti-virus into our minds to prevent ourselves from killing each other.


-Balu

The chariot of Time.

Yesterday looks too blurry. As blurry as the light emitted by the neon bulbs in the hospital as the nurse announced my birth. So blurry like a bluish flux in a glass bottle. That was long way back. That was yesterday.


Today looks crystal clear. Apparently.


And tomorrow ? I can hear the faint voice of a woman lying next to me on my bed. Is that my wife? I do not know, for her face appears blurred. I can hear the voice of a little child calling me “atchaa.” I can see the foggy future. Or perhaps I am being fooled by the nagging voices ringing in my ears. I just seem unable to hold it in my palm. Every time I get close and think I just have it in hand, it easily manages to slip through the fingers of my mind like sand. Time.


Time.


With no boundaries marked, no laws to adhere to, and no master to control, time just flows without any care, enjoying the power of absolute freedom. And it grapples me with an iron chain, remaining unbroken forever. Time flows. No beginning, no end. Oceans of time, roaring and drifting in the waves of eternity. Endless time.


It is being said that the human mind changes every seven years. If one is ready, much becomes possible; and if not ready, then he goes on missing the change. And they say all that is beautiful happens only when you are ready to embrace that change. If you’re not, you’ll struggle. That passing period. At seven, you get done with your childhood; at fourteen disappears the adolescence; and at 21 you become mature or atleast you are expected to. At 28, you see someone new entering your life or atleast you start searching for that someone. Every seven years, they say, form a cycle. The cycle of time.


Time, like a ghost inside a glass bottle. And as yet another moment fades away, I can just see the bottle and the ghost in it. The ghost disappears as soon as it is opened. You know you can’t catch it, the time being the ghost just flies away out of my reach. And I just stand like a little boy watching a butterfly fly away into the open. I can only see it through the blue hue.


But I see tomorrow. Vivid and clear. Through the hue, as space and time bends in my mind, I see tomorrow somewhere in a corner of my mind. I listen to and enjoy the music as I ride in the chariot of time to dive into that bottle. It looks so deep from outside. As deep as eternity. But vivid and clear. And certain. Being swept like clouds of sand in the desert dunes of my mind, I flow with time, where ever it may take me.


The journey continues as I reply to those lovely messages received on the 27th wishing me a happy b'day.


-Balu

The Stranger

Once upon a time in a small town like yours, there lived an old man. He led a lonely life, confining himself within the four walls of his room. Every morning as he would open the windows in his living room, he would see a little child in the neighboring house play around gleefully in the compound. Her voice was sweet; she was a little girl with three lilies in her hands and seven stars in her head, a lovely little angel, so thought the old man. Through the open window in his room, he would watch her play and listen her sing. He would wave at her whenever he saw her out in the compound, and she would wave back at him with a large smile flashing across her face. He loved her immensely and included her in his daily prayers. The relationship gave the lonely old man true joy though they didn't know much about each other.


One fine day, the he popped out of his home and offered the little girl few sweets as he saw her stroll around amicably in the garden. He had been looking forward to give her those since long but never had an opportunity till then.


"These candies are for you, my dear. You'll enjoy its sweetness"

"What is sweetness? I'll take it only if I know beforehand what it is!" said the little girl, keeping her eyes on his face.

"Taste it, little one, and you'll experience sweetness", said the old man, nonplussed, not knowing how to explain it to the little child.

"How can I taste it unless you prove its sweetness? I don't even know you well, so prove it to me first!" said the little girl, showing off her little teeth as she laughed out loud.


Indeed, she didn't know him well enough.

She is right and logical, so felt the old man, and a drop of tear out of one eye rolled down his cheek. Yes, he was still a stranger despite his love for her.

"Why are you crying?" asked the little girl, furrowing her small brow.

"These are tears of love, my dear"

"What is love?" asked the little angel, the smile still on her face.


-Balu

The theme of 'Dasavatharam,' the latest Kamal Hassan flick, rallies around the Chaos principle, which says there is a reason behind every happening, good or bad. The fluttering of a butterfly in India can cause a rainfall in China, I've heard Sri Sri Ravisankar saying this long way back when I had the privilege to be a live audience to his speech. There are several events which link the fluttering of a butterfly leading to a rainfall in China, howmuchsoever inconsequential these events may appear at the first sight. The same chaos principle.


So when I say "I sing" or "I write", there must be several events which link together acting as a catalyst for me to sing or write. My rendering a song must depend up on the song being composed, the lyrics being penned down, the events which inspired the poet to pen down the lyrics, for eg, say he was inspired to write seeing the innocence and joy of a child, and the amazement of the child might very well be the result after watching an earthworm scroll through the ground. So in this case, isn't there a link between the earthworm and the music coming out of my vocal cords? As a singer, writer, as an artist or as a layman, do we not owe a part of our existence to that 'earthworm' howmuchsoever little or inconsequential the worm may appear?


In that sense, aren't all of us interconnected? Every event, and every other creature in the universe. There is a force which links all the events and every entity in the universe. And acknowledging that force by respecting the existence of every entity, every other living being we come across, isn't that the true essence of spirituality?

-Balu