As we march ahead in pursuit of our goals, engaging all our knowledge, experience, efforts and consciousness, there shall be moments of truth that will remind that in the end, life will take course as per the Master’s plan.
Category: God
Lord Krishna – Be intent on the action, not on the fruits of action
The Bhagwad Gita, Book 2, Verse 47
Translation
“To action alone hast thou a right and never at all to its fruits; let not the fruits of action be thy motive; neither let there be motive in thee any attachment to inaction.”
–
S Radhakrishnan
When an individual acts for the sake of his work rather than for the personal reward from it, he or she is likely to do the right thing. This moral insight from Krishna to Arjuna, in the Bhagwad Gita is popularly termed as “nishkama karma”.
“Be intent on the action, not on the fruits of action”.
Continue reading Lord Krishna – Be intent on the action, not on the fruits of action
The Master(’s) Plan
The timing was perfect. Four children in five months. The planning couldn’t have been better. Amit, Sachin, Mitesh and I have been together since twenty years. Now, our kids would grow up together.
On 20th March, 2009, Amit and Trishla were blessed with their first baby, Dhruti
A month later, on mom’s birthday, 21st April, Shourya entered our family. Maahir is a Valentine day baby, year 2006.
Sachin and Prachi were blessed with their second princess, Sucheta, on 18th June. Vedika is six years elder to her younger sibling.
Mitesh and Rashmi’s family was complete, when the youngest amongst the four kids, Prisha, was born on 27th July; Aditya had a sister to play with.
Amongst close friends, Vivek and Nisha lead the pack with two super kids – Yash, nine and Naman, six.
“For our next vacation, we will need a twenty seater bus,” said Mitesh. He’s our chief co-coordinator for the vacations – binding all of us together. His planning is perfect – we’ve enjoyed each time we’ve been on an outing. He along with Sachin do all the work. Amit and I generally like to laze around.
And while there was enough time before a vacation could be planned, we didn’t want to wait for long to thank the Lord for blessing us with normal, healthy children. The trip to Tirupati was on the priority list. Mitesh wished that the four of us should make this trip together. Soon, he made all the plans for the trip.
We were to leave Mumbai on 7th September, by the afternoon train. We would reach Tirumala the next day, and head to Tirupati. Sachin made arrangements for our stay at a matth (residential facility for traveling pilgrims) in Tirupati. Amit, with his “contacts” (he has them in all places) planned for special darshan at the temple; the first one on 8th evening, and the second on 9th morning. After the darshan of the Lord, Amit and Mitesh would fly back to Mumbai. Sachin would travel to Chennai for business. I planned a visit to the Satish Dhawan Space Centre (SDSC), the rocket launch site for the Indian Space Research Organization (ISRO).
SDSC also known as SHAR is located in Sriharikota, a spindle shaped island on the east coast of Andhra Pradesh, about 80 km north of Chennai. I was scheduled to stay there for three days and return to Mumbai on 12th September after completing the commissioning of the plant and equipment supplied by our company ‘Unique Mixers’. Our mixers are in operation at ISRO for manufacturing solid propellants used in rocket propulsion systems. This would be my third visit to this high security zone.
All seemed to be going as per “our master plan” until the morning of 5th September, when Rashmi’s dad complained of chest pain and uneasiness. He had to be scheduled for an angiography on 7th September, the day of our departure. The procedure was to start at 8 am. Mitesh, being a doctor himself, was responsible for coordinating with the doctors treating uncle. The course of further treatment would be decided only after the angiography.
As uncle’s health was stable, the family advised Mitesh to proceed with the Tirupati trip after the angiography. Prayers to the Lord are always answered. Mitesh packed his bags for the trip a night before the procedure and carried them to the hospital the next morning. Since the hospital was on our route to the railway station, we would pick him. The train was scheduled to depart at 2 pm. In all probability the angiography would be over by then. We were confident that Mitesh would be with us on the trip. It was after all his plan – he had to be there.
At 2 pm that afternoon, only three of us boarded the train. Mitesh couldn’t make it. Not because of uncle’s health, but because the doctor was late for the angiography. When we reached the hospital at forty five minutes past noon, the angiography had just started. Mitesh had to be in the ‘Cath lab’ during the procedure.
Mitesh is amongst those who do not give up easily. He is a fighter to the core. Our master planner had already thought of a back-up plan. “I shall be with the Lord”, he promised. He knew he could take the evening flight to Chennai and meet us at Tirupati the next day. On the train, we missed him and his enthusiasm.
Uncle’s angiography revealed complications. A by-pass surgery was the only fix. In difficult times, the one friend that we can count on is Mitesh. He has always stood by us. This time his family was counting on him. Mitesh couldn’t make it to Tirupati.
When we reached the holy town, we were informed by Amit’s local contact that because of the rush it would be difficult for him to arrange for the VIP darshan. The matth where we planned to stay had no vacant rooms. Our plans for the trip had fallen through – we hated it. I was upset and so were Amit and Sachin.
Things were somehow managed and later that evening we by-passed a five hour queue and a few thousand devotes, for a back door entry into the temple. Amit’s contact guided us through all the “no entries”, right upto the point of darshan in less than ten minutes. At that moment, we didn’t think of using the short-cut as “not right”. It’s strange how we tend to look at things differently when we are on the benefited side.
As we stood besides the ‘contact’, with the Lord in sight for more than three minutes, I could not stop looking at those in front of me. These men, women and children may have traveled thousand of miles, would have spent many hours in the queue, only for a glimpse of the Lord. But just as they reached the point of darshan, they were being pushed ahead by the temple guards. The treatment handed out to them was unkind, if not inhuman. We were fortunate only because of the ‘contact’ and the Rs. 5,000/- that we paid him. After the evening darshan, we settled in a room at the Pushpagiri matth and were looking forward to the 9th morning darshan. It was on the same evening that I set the goal of writing a book. My first book “My Notes”, published in November 2009 was a fruition of the goal – another blessing of the Lord.
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| With Sachin and Amit at Pushpagiri Matth |
The average number of devotees that visit the Tirupati Devasthanam each day is about 50,000 to 1,00,000. Our morning darshan would be the VIP darshan, where for a period of one hour the entry inside the temple is restricted to 500 devotees only. You can get onto this list of “Fortune 500” only if you have a recommendation from a top politician or a bureaucrat or if you plan months in advance.
In the VIP corridors, Sachin lead the group of 500 with chants, “Govinda….Go….Vinda”. We slowly walked through the temple doors that lead to the Lord. There was no pushing by the guards this time. We had a darshan of the Lord from the fifth door out of the seven doors. It was like a one on one meeting with Lord Venkateswara. The experience of those few moments would be etched in our memories, for life. We once again missed our friend – may be wasn’t destined to meet the Lord.
As I walked backwards out of the temple but with the Lord in sight (you never turn your back to the Lord), I sensed a strong pinch on my arm. It was a temple guard. He hinted that he could put me back in the queue for one more darshan if I paid him. I guess the guards and the priests at the temple would be as rich as the Lord himself. I kept walking backwards, and out of the temple complex. I prayed to the Lord and wished that the next time all four of us shall visit with our families and hoped to have a similar darshan.
After a quick lunch, we were on our way back. We took the taxi from Tirupati, and while Sachin and Amit headed to Chennai, I got dropped at a state transport bus terminal. It took me three buses, an auto-rickshaw and about four hours to reach the ISRO guest house. I don’t remember much of this travel, but there is one thing I can never forget; the face of the man who boarded the bus and the expressions of the hen that he held in his hands.
By the time I reached SHAR it was 5:00 pm, and there was not much work that I could complete that evening. I settled into the room, thinking about being blessed with a once in a lifetime like darshan of the Lord and the other events that unfolded during this short, yet memorable trip. The only regret was that Mitesh was not with us. I wondered why?
At about 6:40 pm, Sachin called. He had the answer. Back in Mumbai, there had been another medical emergency that afternoon, another chest pain, an admission to the cardiac hospital and a life-saving injection. It was good that Mitesh was not with us on the trip. If he had been, we don’t know what would have happened.
The three of us were blessed to be on the “Fortune 500” list which met the Lord that morning, but Mitesh was the chosen one – whom the Lord visited himself. The Lord was with Mitesh that afternoon, taking care of him when he had the chest pain. Mitesh kept his promise. The Master’s plan was much bigger than our master plan.
Govinda…Go…Vinda……..
P.S. – We often regret when things don’t happen as we plan them, only to realize later that it all happens for a reason. There is a popular Malayalam quote, “Njan pathi, daivam pathi” – it means, I need to do my half, the rest shall be done by the Lord.
The Executive Monk
The wait was finally over. The day had arrived – after a gap of thirteen long years. It was time to live like a monk. The dates 14th – 17th October, 2010 were marked on my calendar for four months. I would be attending a 3-day Vipassana course at Dhamma Pattana, the new center built on the outskirts of Mumbai, famous for the Global Vipassana Pagoda.
Vipassana, which means to see things as they really are, is one of India’s most ancient techniques of meditation. The foundation of the practice is s?la — moral conduct. S?la provides a basis for the development of sam?dhi — concentration of mind; and purification of the mind is achieved through paññ? — the wisdom of insight. The technique is taught at 10-day residential courses during which participants follow a prescribed code of discipline, learn the basics of the method, and practice sufficiently to experience its beneficial results. All students attending the course observe “noble silence” — that is, silence of body, speech and mind. The course requires hard, serious work. There are three steps to the training. The first step is, for the period of the course, to abstain from killing, stealing, sexual activity, speaking falsely and intoxicants. This simple code of moral conduct serves to calm the mind, which otherwise would be too agitated to perform the task of self-observation. The next step is to develop mastery over the mind by learning to fix one’s attention on the natural reality of the ever changing flow of breath as it enters and leaves the nostrils. By the fourth day the mind is calmer and more focused, better able to undertake the practice of Vipassana itself: observing sensations throughout the body, understanding their nature, and developing equanimity by learning not to react to them. Finally, on the tenth day participants learn the meditation of loving kindness or goodwill towards all, termed as meta, in which the purity developed during the course is shared with all beings. There are no charges for the courses – not even to cover the cost of food and accommodation. All expenses are met by donations from people who, having completed a course and experienced the benefits of Vipassana, wish to give others the opportunity to benefit from it. There are numerous centres in India and elsewhere in Asia/Pacific: ten in North America; three in Latin America; eight in Europe; seven in Australia/New Zealand; one in the Middle East and one in Africa.
In 1995, I attended my first 10-day Vipassana course at the age of nineteen, followed by two more in 1996 and 1997. I was an engineering student then. Now 34, married, blessed with two kids, and shouldering the responsibility of manufacturing business, the thought of attending a meditation course for 10 days seemed like luxury. In fact, on 14th morning, even three days of being cut-off from the outside world looked impossible. I was able to make it to the course only because of some last minute planning. A special permission allowed me to start the course a few hours after the scheduled time.
A convenient way to get to Dhamma Pattana is to take the fifteen minute boat ride from the Gorai Jetty to Essel World. I arrived at the jetty late in the evening, just in time for the last but one boat ride which would take me to the other side of the Gorai creek. As I walked towards the jetty terminal, I could not take my eyes off the majestic 325 feet tall, illuminated pagoda and its golden reflection in the placid waters.
As I waited for the boat to start, the clock turned back fifteen years. I attended my first three 10-day courses at Dhamma Giri, the first full time Vipassapa center, located about 140 km from Mumbai in the small town of Igatpuri. During the first course I lived in a dormitory shared by 11 others. My cubicle was 8 feet x 6 feet, with walls on 3 sides, a small window and a curtain separating the dorm lobby. At night, I would creep into the mosquito net around the bed. We were advised to apply a mosquito repellent cream before sleeping.
The wake-up time was 4 am. The sound of the morning gong still echoes in my ears. The morning meditation session started at half past four and lasted for two hours. The walk from the dorm to the central meditation hall, known as the Dhamma Hall was about 300 meters. I remember carrying a torch and an umbrella during the walk. After the first session, breakfast was served in a dining hall. The menu was typical Maharashtrian – poha, saboo dana, sheera, with some fresh fruits. Milk and tea were served. After a quick nashta the meditators would rush back to their respective dorms. There was one bathroom and one toilet in each dorm. We had to line up for all the essentials and get over with it fast. One would be lucky if there was hot water in the tap. By 8 am all of the 500 odd meditators on the course would be back in the Dhamma Hall for the one-hour morning group meditation session. Between 9 am and 11 am, we could continue to mediate inside the central hall or in the individual cells allotted to us. The afternoon break was from 11 am to 1 pm. A quick, non-spicy, satvik lunch (the last meal of the day, unless you had a medical reason) was generally followed by a short nap. The afternoon session would continue till 5 pm, and included the second group meditation session from 2:30 pm to 3:30 pm. The evening break was from 5 pm to 6 pm. We were served nimbu paani(lime water). After the last group meditation session that ended at 7 pm, there was a videotaped lecture by the teacher, S.N. Goenka, which provided a context for meditators to understand their experience of the day. The day concluded at 9 pm with specific instructions for next day meditation. By 9:30 pm we were back in the dorm and fast asleep.
In the 10-day course, the meditators would talk to each other for the first time only on the morning of the tenth day. The sharing of experience was an invaluable learning. The other excitement was calling up home and talking to family after nine days of silence. Until my last course in 1997, cell phones were uncommon. At the Dhamma Giri office there were about three PCO’s for the 500 odd meditators who wished to use them at the end of the course. Each minute in the telephone queue seemed like an additional day in silence.
In the thirteen years between my last course and this one, I occasionally practiced Vipassana meditation at home. Each time I did, I felt at peace. It was like cleansing the mind of the unwanted clutter
Until my second course in 1996, I had a voracious and a well known appetite for chicken. So when I chose to eat vegetarian during a family lunch everyone was surprised. I then decided that I shall avoid non-vegetarian food for a month. When that happened, I extended it to three months. It’s been fourteen years since and I continue to give myself extensions.
Back in time, as the boat got closer to the Pagoda, a part of me was still unsure if I could live the same way as I did earlier. But deep within, I was happy to have made it to the course. In the next few minutes, I had my baggage checked; surrendered my cell phone along with the reading and writing material that I always like to carry with me, and arrived to my room.
The three days there after went by very fast. If the 10-day course was like test match cricket, then the three day course was like Twenty-20, except that the schedule for each day was still the same, 4 am to 9 pm. On 17th morning, I felt sad because the course was about to get over. Two days of meditation and silence made me feel lighter from within – more importantly; I was away from the demands of every day life. I would have loved to continue for a few days more.
In the three day course, we broke silence on the morning of the third day. Within no time all the meditators took custody of their cell phones and spread in all possible corners of the centre to talk to friends and family. There was very little interaction amongst the 80 participants on the course. Technology sometimes takes away the ‘little pleasures’ of life.
I was happy to meet up with a few youngsters in their early twenties. Each of them had attended a 10-day course. After all, it is mandatory to complete a 10-day course, before one can register for a 3-day course. For them, I was the senior pro – a meditator for 15 years. Later that day, I was fortunate to meet a noted industrialist who had been attending the course since the last 41 years. It was his 82nd birthday and for him group meditation at the centre was the best way to celebrate.
During my interaction with the young guys, one of them, a MBA student, expressed his displeasure (may be a doubt) about the donation to the Global Vipassana Foundation. He made specific reference to the placards that were displayed at the donation counters, which highlighted the expenses incurred in building and maintaining facilities at the centre, and the estimated cost of the planned expansions. He related the amount of donation to the duration of the course and stay. As others in the discussion reminded him of the definition of donation, “A voluntary gift (as of money, service or ideas) made to some worthwhile cause”, I felt the need to share some information which was probably not known to him.
I narrated to the young brigade the experience of my first three courses, when the meditators lived in the facilities that were available then. In contrast, at Dhamma Pattana during that course, all of the 80 participants lived in a single-occupancy, 10 feet by 10 feet, air-conditioned room with an attached bathroom. There was a separate place to keep the baggage. Each room was well lit and had sliding windows with built-in mosquito nets. You would get a lock and key when you checked into the room. Hot water was available round the clock (the centre is equipped with a solar heating system). Like the rooms, the meditation hall is equipped with split air-conditioners. Soon the individual cells for meditation shall have an air-conditioning system. At lunch, besides Indian food, we were served salads, soups, continental and Chinese preparations followed with a sweet-dish. All of this has been done to ensure that the meditators coming on the course are comfortable during the stay. My young friend realised that this could not have been possible without the contributions made by those who have benefitted from the course in the past.
From the gypsy courses that started in early 1970’s in make-shift tents to the modern day centre at Gorai, Vipassana meditation in India has come a long way. During the 3-day course, I felt that I lived like an executive monk.
The most memorable moment of the four courses came to me towards the end of the second course, immediately after the meta meditation. The feeling was that of abundant joy, within and in everything around. The mind was silent. The body did not seem to exist. Those few moments of truth shall stay with me forever.
Be Happy
For Details on Vipassana please visit the following –
P.S. – Many like me would be accustomed to spending a fairly big amount on one family outing in the weekend; or much bigger amounts when on a weekend trip to the hill-station, or the beach. However, it is unfortunate that life changing experiences like the one mentioned above are valued by some as 3-day and 10-day packages.
25th October, 2010