उम्र की ऐसी की तैसी…!

The Prophet

The Prophet (Gibran).jpg

The Prophet is a book of 26 prose poetry fables written in English by the LebaneseAmerican poet and writer Kahlil Gibran. It was originally published in 1923 by Alfred A. Knopf. It is Gibran’s best known work. The Prophet has been translated into over 100 different languages, making it one of the most translated books in history, and it has never been out of print.

Proving that there is no connection between cost and value, it’s currently only Rs 79 on Amazon and it’s not hard to find a copy online. It’s a beautiful work, but we wanted to particularly highlight the chapter on work, reproduced here in its entirety.

On Work

Then a ploughman said, “Speak to us of Work.”

And he answered, saying:

You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.

For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life’s procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite.

When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.

Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?

But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth’s furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born,

Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune.

And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life,

And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret.

But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written.

You have been told also life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary.

And I say that life is indeed darkness save when there is urge,

And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge,

And all knowledge is vain save when there is work,

And all work is empty save when there is love;

And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.

And what is it to work with love?

It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.

It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.

It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.

It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,

And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.

Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in sleep, “he who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is a nobler than he who ploughs the soil.

And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet.”

But I say, not in sleep but in the over-wakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass;

And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving.

Work is love made visible.

And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.

For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man’s hunger.

And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine.

And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man’s ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.

And People Stayed Home by Kathleen O’Meara during 1869 plague epidemic

And people stayed home

and read books and listened

and rested and exercised

and made art and played

and learned new ways of being

and stopped

and listened deeper

someone meditated

someone prayed

someone danced

someone met their shadow

and people began to think differently

and people healed

and in the absence of people who lived in ignorant ways,

dangerous, meaningless and heartless,

even the earth began to heal

and when the danger ended

and people found each other

grieved for the dead people

and they made new choices

and dreamed of new visions

and created new ways of life

and healed the earth completely

just as they were healed themselves.

Kathleen O’Meara, pen name Grace Ramsay (1839 Dublin – 10 November 1888 Paris) was an Irish-French Catholic writer and biographer during the late Victorian era. She was the Paris correspondent of The Tablet, a leading British Catholic magazine. Irish Monthly also published many of her serialized and biographical works. O’ Meara also wrote works of fiction where she explored a variety of topics from women’s suffrage to eastern European revolutions. The majority of her novels contained Catholic themes and social reform issues. -Wikipedia

Lockdown Special poem by Gulzar Sahab

Gulzar shayari || Gulzar poetry in hindi || (Hindi shayari)

Bewajah Ghar Se Nikalne Ki Zarurat Kya Hai,

Maut Se Aakhen Milane Ki Zarurat Kya Hai !!

Sabko Maloom Hai Bahar Ki Hawa Hai Kaatil ,

Yuhi Kaatil Se Ulajhne Ki Zarurat Kya Hai !!

Zindagi Ek Neemat Hai, Use Sambhal Ke Rakh,

Kabragahon Ko Sajane Ki Zarurat Kya Hai !!

Dil Behelane Ke Liye Ghar Me Wazah Hai Kafi ,

Yuhi Galiyon Me Bhatakne Ki Zarurat Kya Hai !!

Stay Home , Stay Safe !!

MY DYING CONSCIENCE

My Dying Conscience - Something New Everyday!

Sometimes in the dark of the night
I visit my conscience
To see if it is still breathing
For its dying a slow death
Every day.

When I pay for a meal in a fancy place
An amount which is perhaps the monthly income
Of the guard who holds the door open
And quickly I shrug away that thought
It dies a little

When I buy vegetables from the vendor
And his son “chhotu” smilingly weighs the potatoes
Chhotu, a small child, who should be studying at school
I look the other way
It dies a little.

When I am decked up in a designer dress
A dress that cost a bomb
And I see a woman at the crossing
In tatters,trying unsuccessfully to save her dignity
And I immediately roll up my window
It dies a little

When at Christmas I buy expensive gifts for my children
On return, I see half clad children
With empty stomach and hungry eyes
Selling Santa caps at red light
I try to salve my conscience by buying some, yet
It dies a little

When my sick maid sends her daughter to work
Making her bunk school
I know I should tell her to go back
But I look at the loaded sink and dirty dishes
And I tell myself that is just for a couple of days
It dies a little

When I give my son the freedom
To come home late from a party
And yet when my daughter asks
I tell her it is not safe
I raise my voice when she questions why
It dies a little

When I hear about a rape
or a murder of a child,
I feel sad, yet a little thankful that it’s not my child
I can not look at myself in the mirror
It dies a little

When people fight over caste creed and religion
I feel hurt and helpless
I tell myself that my country is going to the dogs
I blame the corrupt politicians
Absolving myself of all responsibilities
It dies a little

When my city is choked
Breathing is dangerous in the smog ridden Delhi
I take my car to work daily
Not taking the metro,not trying car pool
One car won’t make a difference, I think
It dies a little

So when in the dark of the night
I visit my conscience
And find it still breathing
I am surprised
For, with my own hands
Daily, bit by bit, I bury it.

By Rashmi Trivedi
Author of Woman everything will be fine!


	

Shiva Panchakshara Stotram

Hindu Symbols

शिव   पञ्चाक्षर   स्तोत्रम्

नागेन्द्रहाराय त्रिलोचनाय भस्माङ्गरागाय महेश्वराय ।

नित्याय शुद्धाय दिगम्बराय तस्मै नकाराय नमः शिवाय ॥१॥

मन्दाकिनीसलिलचन्दनचर्चिताय नन्दीश्वरप्रमथनाथमहेश्वराय ।

मन्दारपुष्पबहुपुष्पसुपूजिताय तस्मै मकाराय नमः शिवाय ॥२॥

शिवाय गौरीवदनाब्जबालसूर्याय दक्षाध्वरनाशकाय ।

श्रीनीलकण्ठाय वृषध्वजाय तस्मै शिकाराय नमः शिवाय ॥३॥

वशिष्ठकुम्भोद्भवगौतमार्यमूनीन्द्रदेवार्चितशेखराय ।

चन्द्रार्कवैश्वानरलोचनाय तस्मै वकाराय नमः शिवाय ॥४॥

यज्ञस्वरूपाय जटाधराय पिनाकहस्ताय सनातनाय ।

दिव्याय देवाय दिगम्बराय तस्मै यकाराय नमः शिवाय ॥५॥

पञ्चाक्षरमिदं पुण्यं यः पठेच्छिवसंनिधौ ।

शिवलोकमावाप्नोति शिवेन सह मोदते ॥६॥

Nagendra-Haraya Tri-Lochanaya Bhasma-Anga-Ragaya Maheshvaraya |

Nityaya Shuddhaya Digambaraya Tasmai Nakaraya Namah Shivaya ||1||

Salutations to Maheshvara, who has the King of Snakes as his garland and who has three eyes,

Whose body is smeared with Sacred Ashes and who is the Great Lord,

Who is eternal, who is ever pure, ever free and who has the entire sky as his clothes,

Salutations to that Shiva, who is represented by syllable “Na”, The first syllable of the Panchakshara mantra “Na-Mah-Shi-Va-Ya”.

Mandakini-Salila-Chandana-Charchitaya Nandi-Ishvara-Pramatha-Natha-Maheshvaraya |

Mandara-Pushpa-Bahu-Pushpa-Su-Puujitaya Tasmai Makaraya Namah Shivaya ||2||

Salutations to Maheshvara, Who is worshipped with water from the River Mandakini and smeared with sandal paste,

Who is the Lord of Nandi and of the ghosts and goblins, the Great Lord,

Who is worshipped with Mandara and many other flowers,

Salutations to that Shiva, Who is represented by syllable “Ma”, the second syllable of the Panchakshara mantra “Na-Mah-Shi-Va-Ya”.

Shivaya Gauri-Vadana-Abja-Bala-Suryaya Daksha-Adhvara-Nashakaya |

Shri-Nilakanthaya Vrisha-Dhvajaya Tasmai Shikaraya Namah Shivaya ||3||

Salutations to Shiva, Who is auspicious and who is like the newly risen sun causing the Lotus-Face of Gauri to blossom,

Who is the destroyer of the Sacrifice of Daksha,

Who has a blue throat and has a bull as his emblem,

Salutations to that Shiva, Who is represented by syllable “Shi”, the third syllable of the Panchakshara mantra “Na-Mah-Shi-Va-Ya”.

Vashishtha-Kumbhodbhava-Gautama-Arya-Muni-Indra-Deva-Archita-Shekharaya |

Chandra-Arka-Vaishvanara-Locanaya Tasmai Vakaaraya Namah Shivaya ||4||

Salutations to Him, Who is Worshipped by the Best and most Respected Sages like Vashistha,

Agastya and Gautama and also by the Gods and Who is the Crown of the Universe,

Who has the Chandra (Moon), Surya (Sun) and Agni (Fire) as his three eyes,

Salutations to that Shiva, Who is represented by syllable “Va”, the fourth syllable of the Panchakshara mantra “Na-Mah-Shi-Va-Ya”.

Yajña-Svarupaya Jatta-Dharaya Pinaka-Hastaya Sanatanaya |

Divyaya Devaya Digambaraya Tasmai Yakaraya Namah Shivaya ||5||

Salutations to Him Who is the Embodiment of Yajña (Sacrifice) and who has matted hairs,

Who has the Trident in his hand and who is eternal,

Who is Divine, Who is the Shining One and who has the entire sky as his clothes,

Salutations to that Shiva, Who is represented by syllable “Ya”, the fifth syllable of the Panchakshara mantra “Na-Mah-Shi-Va-Ya”.

Panchaksharam-Idam Punyam Yah Patthe-Shiva-Samnidhau |

Shivalokam-Avapnoti Shivena Saha Modate ||6||

Whoever recites this Panchakshara (hymn in praise of the five syllables of Na-Mah-Shi-Va-Ya) near Shiva,

Will attain the Abode of Shiva and enjoy His Bliss.

Shiv wallpaper by surbhipanwar - ec - Free on ZEDGE™

source: Shrotaratanabali by Gita Press

Shrimad Bhagwad Gita : Ch9 verse 8

प्रकृतिं स्वामवष्टभ्य विसृजामि पुन: पुन: |

भूतग्राममिमं कृत्स्नमवशं प्रकृतेर्वशात् || 8||

prakṛitiṁ svām avaṣhṭabhya visṛijāmi punaḥ punaḥ

bhūta-grāmam imaṁ kṛitsnam avaśhaṁ prakṛiter vaśhāt

The whole cosmic is under Me. Under My will it is automatically manifested again and again, and under My will it is annihilated at the end.

prakṛitim—the material energy; svām—My own; avaṣhṭabhya—presiding over; visṛijāmi—generate; punaḥ punaḥ—again and again; bhūta-grāmam—myriad forms; imam—these; kṛitsnam—all; avaśham—beyond their control; prakṛiteḥ—nature; vaśhāt—force

This is one of the most beautiful shloka of chapter 9 (BG:9.8) of Bhagwad Gita. It signifies the power of Krishna and his creation. Krishna resides in each and everything as everything is created by him. The very element of our existence lies within these few beautiful words.

Krishna says that he only creates and then it is for us how we evolve. Though he is the supreme commander and directs everything with a neutral mind, it is for his creation to grow and evolve.

Krishna resides in each and everything as everything is created by him. The very element of our existence lies within these few beautiful words.

Curve back within yourself again and again till you have absolved yourself of all negative forces. Then create a beautiful human being who is above any form of pain and anger. Create a human who is not affected by the proceedings around him and takes everything in his stride with a calm and composed mind.

✨✨JAI SHREE KRISHNA✨✨ _____________________________

Goose-down Nape

Image result for Kayo Chingonyi

There was a beautiful poem by Kayo Chingonyi in the New York Magazine on 28th March 2018 titled The Nod:

When we’re strangers that pass each other
in the street, it will come down to this tilt
of the head — acknowledging another
version of events set in a new-build
years from now, a mess of a place filled
with books and records, our kids thick as thieves
redefining all notions of mischief.

Perhaps our paths will cross in a city
of seven hills as the light draws your face
out from the bliss of anonymity.
Maybe you’ll be stroking the goose-down nape
of a small child with eyes the exact shade
of those I met across a room at the start
of this pain-in-the-heart, this febrile dance.

When I hear “seven hills” my mind immediately goes to Rome, then San Francisco, but Wikipedia has a helpful list of cities that claim to be built on seven hills.

A friend pointed out The Nod is a fine complement to The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

Image result for seven hills cities

Image result for seven hills cities

Borrowed from : Matt Mullenweg’s Blog – Founder CEO of Automattic the makers of WordPress

Sip your 🥃whiskey, nice and slow

Image result for sip your whiskey nice and slow

Sip your 🥃whiskey, nice and slow,
No one ever knows when it’s time to go,
There’ll be no time to enjoy the glow,
So sip your 🥃whiskey nice and slow.

Life is too short but feels pretty long,
There’s too much to do, so much going wrong,
And most of the time you struggle to be strong,
Before it’s too late and it’s time to go,
Sip your 🥃 whiskey nice and slow.

Some friends stay, others go away,
Loved ones are cherished, but not all will stay ,
Kids will grow up and fly away,
There’s really no saying how things will go,
So sip 🥃 your whiskey nice and slow.

Before you know it seasons have changed,
Those precious little moments are part of yesterday,
Most things have turned out relatively okay,
And you finally reap what you have sown,
So sip 🥃 your whiskey nice and slow.

In the end it’s really all about love,
For this world and it’s beauty and the stars above,
For His grace in your life , for each present moment,
Smile and breathe and let your worries go,
Just sip 🥃 your whiskey nice and slow…..

Image result for sip your whiskey

Source: Whatsapp Forward

 

Slow Dance

 

Slow Dance

 

Have you ever watched kids

On a merry-go-round?

 

Or listened to rain

Slapping on the ground?

 

Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight,

Or gazed at the sun fading into the night?

 

You better slow down.

Don’t dance so fast.

 

Time is short.

The music won’t last.

 

Do you run through each day

On the fly?

 

When you ask: “How are you?”,

Do you hear the reply?

 

When the day is done,

Do you lie in your bed,

 

With the next hundred chores

Running through your head?

 

You better slow down.

Don’t dance so fast.

 

Time is short.

The music won’t last.

 

Ever told your child,

We’ll do it tomorrow?

 

And in your haste,

Not see his sorrow?

 

Ever lost touch,

Let a good friendship die,

 

Cause you never had time

To call and say, “Hi”?

 

You’d better slow down,

Don’t dance so fast.

 

Time is short.

The music won’t last.

 

When you run so fast to get somewhere,
You miss half the fun of getting there.

 

When you worry and hurry through your day,
It’s like an unopened gift thrown away.

 

Life is not a race.

Do take it slower.

 

Hear the music

Before the song is over.

 

– by David L. Weatherford

 

About the Author
David L. Weatherford is a child psychologist with published poems in “Chicken Soup for the Soul”. If you want to enjoy more of David’s beautiful writings, please visit www.davidlweatherford.com