A Blithe Moment
I feel so good these days seeing only things good happening all around. My feng-shui plant indoor grows luxuriantly, and I tease the friend who presented the gift to me that all his money is coming to me! Say like the geological phenomenon of oil migrating from the Middle East to India underground. The things for which I was just struggling the other day are happening just like that. Say, for example, I just ran into a freeware on the Web that converted my ISBN from digit to barcode graphic, again just like that—almost out of the box. I came across the news that my state has so much of gold and other minerals and they are going to lift them for the benefit of the state; I was happy to learn about the victory of Indians in the cricket match agaist West Indies, the Indian girl smash-hitting the tele hunt for celebrities in the west taking head on the racial onslaughts...
But that was not all to send me happy and blissful. I read in the newspaper today that a white owl was sitting on the window panel of the chief minister of the state. People here interpret it all auspicious, and everything good for the state is on the offing.
I don’t know if I’m sounding a little superstitious, but then what is the big harm in it to come across good things constantly, nay continually? There may be something harmful in it: if I can ascribe a meaning to chance happenings like this for good reasons, won’t I be doing the same for bad happenings for the opposite reasons? And loosing confidence for small deviations?
Here I tend to be philosophical, the Indian way. Happenings are like the predetermined things, say like a sunrise or a sunset and they are to be accepted, not without a question but with an understanding, the spiritual understanding. Then what about improving things by conscious effort? Oh yes, one should continue doing that because one’s living in this world has a purpose: to do things good, conscientious and enduring. Results are not to be assessed in the short run; there has to be a cosmic balance between efforts made and results achieved, not on one-to-one basis, but in totality. We are so much attuned to think that a father’s effort fructifies in child’s life, like planting a tree for the progenies! Wonderful, thy name is Indian philosophy. Any doubt? Then think of Kiran Deasi getting her Booker Prize in her first novel where as her mother Anita Desai is still waiting to be awarded some prize of that sort with her entire life devoted to writing!
A. N. Nanda