Zendo for the heartmind

kokorozendo

Zendo Chronicles: The ENSO of life!

Zendo Chronicles: The ENSO of life!

by | Jan 10, 2025 | Compassion, Grief, Joy, Meditation, Peace, Uncategorized, Zen

In Zen, the ENSO represents. The emptiness and No mind of Zen Mind. Usually it is expressed through calligraphy, typically drawn in one fluid stroke.  The Space inside the circle represent the state of emptiness.

(Thanks to Dr. Meath Conlan, Zen Teacher , Bodhi Sangha member and Friend)

Enso Circle also denotes the no end and no start of this mysterious universe.

A long time back, my late father was having his last sleep in a mortuary freezer box kept in the front hall of our home at Mannarkkad.  A lot of people had gathered in and outside of our small home.  One could hear a lot many people sobbing. As I was sitting in the verandah, I noticed a small girl, trying to catch a dragon fly and she was humming. Quite oblivious to the stark atmosphere of grief.  At that point, it hit my mind that life goes on. With us or without us.

Just a few months before my father had expired, I had attended a Vipassana session at Igatpuri.  After a long one-year standoff satyagraha, the Director of HR of the company for whom I was working. (not working) had granted me a paid leave of 100 days. ( He might have thought, I would utilize that time to hunt for another job and disappear.  But I went back after those 100 days, regaining my strength and vigor for another stint of teaching him some humane way of leading people. ) I had heard about Vipassana from Master NLP trainer Dr. Richard McHugh.  Dick McHugh, taught Thara and I , NLP a couple of years back. And it was our routine to buy him a. T shirt as a gift every time he used to grace Blr.  That time, when I shared my “traumatic experience” , he suggested I should go to Vipassana. He shared with us, how he could cure his illness after going to Vipassana and off I went to Igatpuri. But those 10 days, added to my trauma. It was the month of June. Monsoon.  Mosquitoes. Mud. Flies.  The pungent smelling mosquito repellent and sonorous voice of  Goenkaji’s, cramps in my legs. And on the last day, when it ended, it was the first independency day for me.

I came back to Bangalore.   Lost my job. My father-in-law. My Father. Thara’s granduncle…. One by one … all within a few weeks.  As I was feeling overwhelmed and suffocated, I thought I got to try out Vipassana again. I had immense trust in Dr. Richard McHugh . And I went back to. Igatpuri.

Igatpuri Vipassana center is a big meditation center which can house almost 1000 people at the same time.  Each one of the meditators gets a room.   As I was completing the check in formality , I did not notice what room was allotted to me.  As I started looking for the door number and when ended up at the same place as I stayed in my last vipassana, it really shook me. I was wondering what is the probability of me getting allotted the same room after one year! The same room was allotted to me, as if the Enso circled wanted to tell me, I got to start again where I had left without any progress what so ever.  But the Second innings of Vipassana was good for me. That was the turning of tide in my spiritual quest.  When I came back home, as I was filing my  accommodation card, I  found out, the only change was the laundry token number was 117 instead of 116. May be the universe would have thought, I had my mind to washed clean as well.

 

Our Life does not progress linear.  In my case, it is always in a circle.  Even when Dr. Richard McHugh did the NLP timeline exercise,  my timeline of life was almost a circle. And he told me that in my case past and future meets twice. !

Time Circle did roll on…

And   I had moved from Vipassana to Zen as my spiritual path.

    from Igatpuri, Nashik to Perumalmalai, Kodaikanal

   Goenkaji’s  recorded voice to AMA Samy’s silence.

   And Mindful to No Mind….

Last two years I had spent half of my life at the Zendo and since December I am full-timer here as a. Zen student.

During the Xmas to New year eve sesshin, the zendo was quite full.  One of my erstwhile colleague and good friend, Sam too was attending the sesshin.  After one evening’s music meditation session, as all of us were moving out, she called us all and pointed to the western skyline , above the hillocks facing our Zendo.

There in the clear dark Kodai sky were 3 stars forming a perfect trirangle. She shared with us that  it is called Winter triangle formed by. 3 stars: Sirius , Betelgeuse and Procyn.

 

(Photo and knowledge nugget courtesy: Sam a co meditator , Bodhi Sangha member and friend at Little flower zendo)

I did remember, an old Malayalam novel written with the background of Kodaikanal Astronomical observatory. “Pullippulikalum Vellinakshathrangalum”.   (Spotted Leopards and Silver starts) . It was serialized in Mathrubhumi Weekly  and I might have read it when I was in high school. Some 40 years back. Written by C Radhakrishan , a famous Malayalam novelist known for his wonderful fiction work with a lot of metaphysical background.

After the sesshin got over, we went to a Pizza place known as. George’s gourmet kitchen and on the way back, I saw that Kodaikanal observatory.  I did share with Fr. AMA about the novel I had read some 40 years, written by a scientist who worked there and with a lot of metaphysical underpinnings.  And laughingly but very  affectionately, Fr. AMA told me no wonder you have reached the same place.

I felt some 40 years just disappeared as if in a time warp.

 

 

At the Zendo, my neighbor, Robert Amor is a dog lover. Already two dogs are being taken care by him.  A cute Labrador named as. Bhim and another indie Birdie.  So when he brought in another small puppy to the Zendo, I was thinking, we are kind of getting into trouble. Robert told me , Kutti’s mother abandoned her and she would have died lying on the road, hence he got her to the Zendo.

Not every meditator who comes to the Zendo are not dog lovers. Though both are enlightened Zendogs, the new visitors come in with a bit of apprehension. And usually, when they realize those are “enlightened Zendogs”, they do change their mindset too. Still I felt, 3 dogs is like making our zendo into a kennel.  Robert told me that we will look for an adopter for the puppy. We named her Kutti.

One day , as he took the bigger dogs to for his daily walk, Robert came in and left Kutti in my room and asked me to take care till they return.

After a thorough surveillance of the room, Kutti slept soundly , when she realized this palce can be trusted.

At that point, she just reminded me of  Jackie Mu, our original Zendog at Little flower Zendo.

She was gentle beast of a dog. She knows when and whom to be gentle and who should be scared away. Very tragically she was poisoned to death.  On 14  July 2023.

I had never felt so much grief on the death of a canine before.  And I wrote to Fr. AMA.

“Dear Fr. Ama 

     Tithy messaged me at 9 37 pm  saying. “Laddo / Jackie. Mu passed away. “

Suddenly I felt a pang in my heart. As something within me had died down.  I never had a pet before in my life leave alone a dog. And I just happened to remember the koan .  Mu.

As you used to teach us, all beings are connected in a way. 

Regardfully 

Vishy Sankara “

And he replied  immediately “I too was saddened by the death of Laadu. It was fond of you, followed you often. I am in tears. Peace to Laadu and to you and to me. Ama samy”.

As I was babysitting  Kutti,  I I had to message Tithy, my sangha sister , “Tithy,  Jackie Mu reborn as Kutti” !

At the very moment I pressed the send button of that message, I knew deep within that.

Life always happens in circles.

In Enso Circles. 

Nothing is lost. Nothing is dead.  

It will all come back to us in one form or another.

May be even formless…. In Emptiness.  As the first Koan in Zen  “Mu” ! 

 

6 feet down under……

6 feet down under……

by | Dec 4, 2024 | Gratitude, Grief, Harmony, Joy, Uncategorized, Zen

 

“Every Man’s life ends the same way, it is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguishes one man from another “. Thus wrote Ernest Hemingway in his answer to Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace titled “For whom the bell tolls”.

 My eyes were moist, mind blank, as I was standing holding an ancient looking rusted iron   gate locked with chain and lock as if they did not want their dead and buried to walk across that line back to this world. As the great Moroccan traveler Ibn Battutah had written “Travelling at first leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.  Travelling at the speed of light, through mountains and valleys of memories in our mind is no different.   

I was trying to locate the spot, where my late father Sankara is taking his last rest.  Usually in Kerala homes with backyard becomes a forest after the monsoon and people work clearing the dense foliage to keep snakes and wild animals out of their backyard.

Besides my father Sankara, my uncle, their cousins,  grandparents , great grandparents, other blood relatives  and generations of our ancestors too share that social space. Almost more than an acre on the border of evergreen Kunthipuzha which originates in Silent Valley and ends up in Arabian Sea ….🌊 And that piece of real estate is the best and most beautiful serene and peace sleeping 😴 spot for post death sleep in this world. Graves are not marked as this is a common burial ground of Kannadigas of Mannarkkad. Only living beings draw boundaries and worry about what they own and are selfish … after death and before born everything belongs to all. And another common thread, I can think is all of them seems to love that river so much.   During monsoon, when she overflows and carry with her everything from elephants to a few humans to Arabian sea to mild mannered ways during post rainy seasons.  My guess is they don’t mind the hoary tunes to lullabies of the river for their sleep.  And in the overpopulated and overcrowded state of Kerala, an acre of such land is precious.   It is quite a luxury that Kannadigas of Mannarkkad were just around 10 homes but we our own burial ground. We used to call our community as “Athatti” (which means 10 Households in Kannada though now it has come down to 2 or 3).

 My father fought against a local wealthy strong man who tried to take over that piece of land, with the connivance of a distant relative of ours.  Sankara was lifelong card holding member of CPI and he could walk into the offices of Left ministers and leaders.   I used to be swelled with pride and joy, when they used to receive him with so much of respect and affection.  When K E Ismail, was revenue minister of Kerala, he got him instruct our Collector to issue an order handing over the title of that land within a day.   May be that was my father’s way of ensuring that greedy strangers with no values won’t encroach and disturb his very last slumber.

 I had left that place mentally, the moment my dear dad was buried. And I was back at that place after 18years, as I was at Mannarkkad to attend the diamond jubilee celebrations of my high school KTMHS. ( It was the alma mater of my father Sankara too.) )

As I was planning to leave home and move to a Zendo, I thought I should talk to him and seek his blessings.  Though 18 years is a long time, and his physical remains would have been gone back to Mother earth 6 feet down under. Suddenly that phrase 6 feet below stuck to my mind.  Appears like a softened phrase for burial in a grave or burial ground, or more generally for death. 

 As Hemingway wrote, every man’s life does not end in the same way.  Some are buried, some are cremated, some are left for sky burial (though the dwindling population of vultures  had forced  Parsis to choose either cremation or burial now a days, some choose to leave their dead bodies as learning material for medical colleges ( I have chosen to choose that option in my will )  and some bury their dead  into the sea   ( Like US Navy ) . Osama bin Laden’s body was also thrown in the sea so that the buried place could not become his shrines.   King Abdulla ( the  previous king of KSA ) was buried in a unmarked grave for the same intent.  Mughal Emperors built their burial sites, so that they are marked in history and geography. While some like Akbar did with some class, Shajahan did crassly, building a monument by inflicting great pain in those who built it and the economy as well.

 May be the way they all wanted their mortal remains to be treated after they are dead and gone, reflected how they lived on this earth.  Some lightly like birds in the sky and some like tyrants.  May be they lived  when they are alive ( or half dead) on this earth, 6 feet above ,  from their concerns and fears of what happens to them when they are dead and gone.

From time immemorial, ever since, the first gen of human beings started living on Earth, the challenges of day to day living took the lion’s share of his concerns and Mindspace. But their fears and concerns about death, dying and what happens to them defined the way they lived.  All philosophy and religion etc. might have originated from this fear than anything else.

 Even someone like Jiddu Krishnamurti who spoke to a vast number of audience over a long life time on conditioning of mind was not fully free from this , in my view. I had read , during his last days at Ojai, as it was clear to him and everyone else that his end is imminent, he instructed others to contact the pandits of Varanasi to find out how an enlightened man or saint should be cremated, and then exclaimed what he is doing ! But then again, he instructed his trustees that the electric crematorium chamber got to be cleaned thoroughly, before they place his mortal remains inside for oven for burning  to ashes.  He did not want his ashes to be contaminated by another’s human’s ashes.

 A long time back during an interaction with some trustees of the KFI on conditioned mind,  I had shared this nugget in all my enthusiasm. One of the trustees, an absolutely brilliant man,  who chose to join a KFI school after his graduation from IIMC strongly put me in my place, directing me not to share unfounded stories and he was very much present at Ojai at that time.  I kept silent. Not for too long. I came back home, took out biographies written by May Lutyens and others and emailed him keying in those pages and references.  He was thorough gentleman and quite humble in nature and he did reply with a sorry note.

 The whole point of sharing this to underline, even a great philosopher like Krishnamurti was still struggling with the conditioned thoughts about the end of life.

 While I was struggling with Koan number 14 from Mumonkan ( The Gateless Gate), Nansen Kills the cat,  Fr AMA Samy  told me  “I die and I don’t die.  I don’t die so that I can die”. Accept death . Act  as if I am dying was the answer to that koan.  As Joshu would have told his Zen master Nansen, “Master , you can kill, but can you give  life ??”  

Zen , there is no distinction between life and death  is viewed as part of a continuum with life. Both life and death are one and the same and there is no dividing line. As per Zen we, what we think as a person,  is  an ongoing process and not a product. . And when we let go of our illusory sense of self, we lose our fear of death. The only way to know life is to be aware to living , because life is now and this is the only gateless gate to cross.

 

Stopped time and Frozen tears:  Maps in our mind and borders in our heart

Stopped time and Frozen tears:  Maps in our mind and borders in our heart

by | Nov 15, 2024 | Change, Grief, Peace, Public Policy, Uncategorized

“While the image of the “corpse train” arriving full of the dead and mutilated remains perhaps the most enduring icon of Partition, most passenger services had been halted after the initial attacks. The worst massacres only came to pass now. Over the weekend of September 20-21, four of the Pakistan Specials rolled across the border and into Lahore one after the other, their floors slick with blood. Some had been attacked multiple times. One train’s escort had fended off a jatha in 45 minutes of ferocious hand-to-hand fighting. Another had lost several hundred passengers, including 62 children under the age of eight. On September 22, after a refugee train coming the other way arrived in Amritsar full of non-Muslim dead and wounded, the Sikh fighters went berserk. A mob estimated at 10,000 people swarmed a Pakistan-bound train full of Muslim refugees, firing automatic rifles, tossing bombs, and slashing away with swords. Only 200 horribly wounded passengers survived; at least 1,500 people were killed, including the British commander of the train’s escort. Bourke-White arrived at the scene soon afterward. All along the platform, she later wrote, blue-turbaned Sikhs sat cross-legged, their curved kirpans across their knees, patiently waiting for the next arriving Special.”

  • An excerpt from Nisid Hajari’s Midnight’s Furies: The Deadly Legacy of India’s Partition

 We, Thara and Rishi and I, were at the Partition Museum, which is housed at the Amritsar Townhall building.  The red colored sandstone building was an old British Commissionerate and jail.  It was just a stone throwaway from Jalian Wala Bagh, the place of once of the worst criminal act by an army officer in recorded history. If  one is sensitive enough, one could still hear the cries and commotion from the Jalian Wala Bagh, as Col. Reginald Dyer, vulture army, opened fired at an innocent congregation of freedom fighters.  

 The roads between the Golden Temple, Jalian Wala Bagh and Town is a pedestrian only cobbled walkway.  And what catches the eye is the standard shop signages, which melts into the stone-colored building and huge statues of some remarkable Indians. If one can tolerate or ignore the number of touts, who wants to take you to the Wagah border ceremony, it is a quite an enjoyable walk.   

 The partition museum seems to be a new addition, especially compared Golden Temple, and Jalian Wala Bagh, which were witness so many generation’s smiles and tears, sukoon and blood, pride and prejudice… Also it portrays the dark, hateful, animal side of humans along with Jalian Wala Bagh compared to the golden side of being human of Golden Temple.

The museum is the brain child of Mallika Ahluwalia, a Harvard graduate, whose grandparents, both paternal and maternal, were  tragic victims of barbaric violence from the partition.

 We had plan to make a quick round of the place and head to our lunch. Our driver Guri Saheb, a young, very affable and devout Sardar reminded us he can’t park of long Infront of the Brothers Dhaba. Locals and tourists throng that Dhaba for that utterly Butterly kulcha and piping hot Channa.

 We were just skimming through the halls, especially about the politics of those times, so that we ticked our tourist to do checklist, till we reached, center of  Hall of Migration and Refuge.   There was a small well, depicting the suicides by many women who jumped into and killed them to save their honour during those times.  There was a beautiful phulkari dupatta draped across the walls near that well.  The note said it was donated by one Mr. Randhawa, whose aunt was asked by her kith and kin to jump into the well and save her honour from being raped and killed.  She chose not to and was rescued by a Muslim man and it was one of the stories of kindness and humaneness shown by many across all communities in midst of hatred, anger and bloodshed.

 And just next to that was the booth which displayed the portraits by Sardari Lal Parashar. How does one draw grief, loss, sadness, suffering!!!  Parashar was an acclaimed   painter, etcher, sculptor and writer. and writer on the other side of the divide before the lines were drawn on a piece of map.

 

Source: S.L. Parashar 1904–1990, Time, Space, Light, Consciousness

After crossing over the blood-soaked border, his first job was as Commandant in a refugee camp in Baldev Nagar, Ambala. The overwhelming and painful atmosphere of sorrow, fear and anguish of the inmates of that refugee camp, got into his sketches.  And those sketches became one telling story of the horrors of partition.

 Even after all these years, pain and suffering was still a fresh in those sketches.  I had to go back to the booth downstairs, booth of Sir Cyril Radcliffe, the man who was mainly responsible for one of the most man created calamity and cold-blooded mayhem in the world.  Even the most conservative figures shows the depth humans descended. A BBC article on partition says  “ About 12 million people became refugees. Between half a million and a million people were killed in religious violence. Tens of thousands of women were abducted.”

 

 

The poem by W H Auden in the booth just says part of the story about the main villain.  

 

Let me quote from an interview  of Radcliff  by veteran journalist Kuldeep Nayyar in 1976.  

“To make an ‘impartial’ decision, the British chose English Barrister Sir Cyril Radcliffe to draw the boundary that would demarcate the Punjab and Bengal provinces. Radcliffe had never visited British India or written about it ever in his professional life as a lawyer.

He virtually had no knowledge of the subcontinent, which was why he was chosen as somebody who’d make an ‘unbiased’ decision. He was given two Muslim and Hindu Judges  each to help in the task.”

​ So that’s how the story of Radcliffe lines goes. An English barrister, who never set foot in India before July 8, 1947, decided which families would be part of India and which houses would go to East and West Pakistan.

 “According to records, Radcliffe barely knew where Punjab and Bengal were, yet he accepted the job as a man with a deep sense of duty.   In that interview,  he reveals that he ‘had almost given Lahore to India but was then told how Pakistan would be left without any major city’ as the decision to give Calcutta to India was already taken.

In one corner in that book tells the story of the necklace from Mohenjo-Daro.  “When the necklace was separated into two sections, Pakistan received a portion of six light-green jade beads and three agate-jasper pendants. Currently, this half of the necklace is on exhibit at the Mohenjo Daro Museum in Pakistan, while the other half is located in the National Museum in New Delhi, India.

In the same interview with Nayar, he further said ”the time at my disposal was so short that I could not do a better job. However, if I had two to three years, I might have improved on what I did.” Five weeks – in just five weeks – the fate of millions of people got sealed and this unleashed an epic humanitarian crisis. “

So saddened was Radcliffe to hear about the death of people on either side of the lines that he refused to accept the payment for his work.  Then that is the story of. A Lawyer who worked probono !  I was wondering, why would a person ever undertake such a task with hasty deadlines.

 ​Thirty years after the partition, Sir Cyril died in April 1977 in Britain. It is said that after drawing the ‘Radcliffe Line’, he left India the very next day and never came to the country again.

“That which passes, isn’t time. You and I are transitory, time is eternal. Or rather, it passes and is yet eternal.”
― Gulzar, Raavi Paar and Other Stories

 The last section of the museum was the best part. The section of Hope. The extra ordinary story of ordinary people, who saw the worst of human nature, still chose to be good human beings.  Those men excelled as human beings and transcended the slippery slope of hatred and anger.   Milkha Singh, Hero Motors Munjal, Manmohan Singh, The father of Indian IT industry. F. C. Kohli.   Manmohan Singh taped voice told me that how his grandfather was brutally murdered in cold blood in Peshawar and after crossing over to Amritsar after partition, he studied for intermediate and BA at the Motilal Nehru Library which is next door to the Town hall where the partition museum is there.  He could not afford books and as a refugee, he could study only because his college waived his fees.  The endless list goes on….  The seed of hatred takes root only on petty and weak hearts. The founder of the Parition Museum had written a wonderful book  of 21 inspirational stories.  There could be many more unheralded ones.

After penning a short note on the visitors book, It was time to go to Wagah border show, the beating retreat or Flag lowering ceremony. It so seems in the ancient days, the war used to start at the sunrise and end at the sunset.  Remember the story in Sauptika parva, the Book of sleepers, 10th Chapter of Mahabharata.  After the 18th day of the war, 3 Kauravas led by Ashwatthama, enters the Pandava camp in the middle of the night and slaughters the sleeping, Pandavas. At the end, even after the victory only 8 Pandava men were alive and 3 Kauravas.    Ironically our driver told us that Wagah is the Pakistan side of the border.  Indian side is known as Attari. Was wondering why the patriotic Indians promote Pakistan! There was already a huge crowd assembled waiting for the security check, to be let in to the semicircular Coliseum style stadium facing the gate from the Indian side. There is a similar and smaller stadium on the other side.  All of us were made to pass through a metallic detector and thoroughly frisked.  The BSF jawans did not even let a cigar lighter to the venue.  The soundboxes blared the patriotic songs from Hindi Movies of Ajit Kumar to SRK. After some time, a jawan with a wireless mic in hand appeared on the road and started egging the audience for louder support and hooting the other side.  In between, he used to run towards the border gate. Then all the girsl in the crowd were asked to be on the road and suddenly it turned into a disco with patriotic songs blaring. A rope was tied at a distance from the gate so that, people don’t run across the road in their excitement .  Then the show started. Performed by the Border Security Force of India and the Pakistan Rangers, the lowering of flags is a choreographed drill, speed marches, really high kicks. ( I thought their foot hit on their head and foot stampings.  They started at each other , twirling their big moustaches amidst slogan chanting.  While we watched the spectacle from bench seats, there is a VIP gallery  with a huge number of foreigners and other dignitaries.

eanwhile Sun had crossed the Radcliff drawn border to the other side, without a passport, visa and body, without body frisking or not having to move through a metal detector.  Still, it did not hesitate to share its light and glory with us on this side of the border. During the whole time, guards both BSF and Pakistan Rangers stood facing the crowds on their side, with their backs to each other.  Maybe they trust the other side guards more.  It was not long ago, a suicide bomber detonated himself just a few meters away from the border gate on the Pakistan side killing many.  

After the flags on the both sides were lowered in a very synchronized and meticulous way, there was a brisk handshake between the guards and smile on their face before they closed the gates.  Maybe they are known to each other as they stand guard every single day.

 As Sun decides to say goodbye to all of us, we got up.  The BSF Jawan on the mic, did urge everyone to dump the garbage in dustbins. No one paid heed. We all left behind a badly littered stadium and hurried back to the car parking.  On our return trip back, I was thinking about the narrow line painted across the road in between those two gates. How many litres of human blood, would have been used by Radcliff to paint it. A dictator or an army general in power in Pakistan may need that choreographed drama every day to distract their citizens.  But does a strong and vibrant country such as ours should lower ourselves to their level !!!  IS the strength of a human or nation depends on decibel levels or  staring down each other twirling moustaches !!!!

 I am no romantic.  I reckon, the borders are a reality which cannot be wished away. Animals in the wild, too mark their borders.  From the Voyageurs wolf project, they have published the GPS tracked territory of 7 wolf packs way back in 2018. It is a way of nature to ensure , each one of them, whether they are single or pack, gets their resources needed for their survival. Whether it is grass or preys.

 In our minds as well as in the world we live to die and die and kill to live.  When I got to have a door and wall to save myself from my siblings, a fence to keep that neighbor away, and a border even within a country to say my river belongs to me, how can one have an issue with a border between the “nations” .   

 Especially when that border gets written with human blood.  Blood and belonging goes together always.  But the moot point is, when wolfs and wild animals, still stay and live the way since they originated in mother earth, we, humans, take pride in our evolvement and progress.

The sagely phrase Vasudhiava Kumtumbakam do suggest that our ancestors did transcend those animalistic tendencies (The phrase Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam is made up of three Sanskrit words, Vasudhaa (earth/world), iva (like) and kutumbakam (large/extended family). The verse finds mention in Maha Upanishad (VI. 72); and is further referred to in the Hitopadesha and other literary works of India).

 But suddenly in the current era, that sounds so archaic.    Did we regress  to in Neanderthal times !!!

Toothache of the Mind : Suffering of the Suffering !

Toothache of the Mind : Suffering of the Suffering !

by | Aug 18, 2024 | Compassion, Empathy, Grief, Harmony, Peace, Uncategorized, Zen

A long time back, during November 2006, my father Sankara was an inmate of SICU (Surgical ICU)  of  Fortis Hospital, Bannerghatta Road ( Then Wockhardt ) for four days.  SICU is a place, where patients who have undergone surgery are kept immediately after their surgery.  Some come back to life though the route of ICU, Normal ward, then back to home and their life. And some decides to end their suffering. My father chose the second option. There were around 12 – 14 beds in that SICU, if my fading memories are right.  My fathers’ bed was in a corner of that big hall. And it was short walk from the entrance, during the visit hours.  Outside the hall, in a notice board, they had displayed the name of the patient, age and the Dr who had led the surgery.  There was an infant too at that place at that time.  I had forgotten her name, but her age was just 3 months.  And she too was taken care by Dr. Vivek Jawali. the Heart surgeon who had operated my father.

 Once, when I was meeting him to enquire about my father, I had asked him about that baby girl. My question was, isn’t it too difficult to do a surgery, that too a major one on the body of a tiny tot. His reply kind of surprised me and that stayed on my mind.

 He said, “On the contrary, babies cry only when they have a real physical pain or in need of something essential for their survival. Like when they are hungry or thirsty or they are in some physical discomfort. It can be taken care quite easily.  And when we grow up and become adults, we cry for everything in this world. Real or imaginary.  Physical or Mental. And it becomes more difficult. “

 I did understand what he said to an extent. After some 18 years of living, not living, try to read a bit of philosophy, Buddhism and practicing Zen, it was interesting to reflect on what he said.

 His saying sounds so sage like now.

 

Budha’s first teaching at Sarnath. Which is termed as Four Noble Truths, has this word Suffering in all of them.  As per his followers, Buddha is said to have said the word. Dukkha.  Though many translate the word Dukkha as suffering, I would reckon, unsatisfactoriness is a closer translation.  The Pali word dukkha, usually translated as “suffering,” has a more subtle range of meanings. Oriental traditions and thoughts are much more nuanced than the Occidental ones.  Many a times, much is lost in translation.  It’s also sometimes described metaphorically as a wheel that is off its axle.

 

It is important to keep in mind that traditional and “Conservative” Buddhists ascribe everything in the Tripitaka to Buddha himself, many Buddhist scholars have identified many inconsistencies in those teaching. AS in anything in life, the generations who had passed it to their descendants, would have done some “Value” addition to them.

 

Zen Master AMA always reminds us to treat them critically.  And I for one, as a Zen student, only swear by. Kalama Sutra.  May be that is how a rebellious and questioning mind reached the gateless gate of Zen, AMA Samy and Bodhi Sangha.  Just a few months back, seeing my overzealousness in devouring the books on Zen and Philosophy, AMA also told me , “One Should not be attached too much even to Zen and self-realization . That too would be un-Zen like. “    . May be people like Nagarjuna lived that way and the result was Mahayana Buddhism and Zen.  When the Camel of Buddhism was made to pass though the needle hole of one of the greatest rationalist mind ever lived, the result was Madhyamika Karaka.  It is not for nothing someone like Jan WesterHoff, a noted authority on the religious traditions of the Orient,  had named Nagarjuna as one of the greatest philosophers and rationalists ever lived. While Mahayana Buddhists call him as the Second Budha, for Zenists , he is the first one. 

Coming back to toothache of the mind, there are 3 types of Dukkha as per Buddhist teaching.  Dukkha -dukkha which means the suffering of suffering.  Viparinama Dukkha, the suffering of change and Sankhara Dukkha, the suffering of existence.

Tooth ache of the mind belongs to the first one.  The suffering of suffering.  The real toothache which afflicts one’s body  is curable and may end as the wheel of life rolls on.  But it is difficult to cure the tooth ache of the mind. Have you ever observed patients waiting for their turn at a Dentist place. One suffers a lot more than necessary when one does not know how to suffer.  It is our mind which makes a probable fleeting pain of moment in the future to an eternal one in our mind from the present moment onwards..

It is no different in other avenues of our life.  When we were Engineering students, we “suffered” for looking for a job.  And when we landed in a good job, again we “suffered” due to the long work hours, a demanding boss or client, or even due to a colleague who managed to negotiate a better pay packet than you or who received a restricted stock units.  We “suffer” when we don’t have a car. And when we have one, we again suffer, imagining about the possible traffic block at Hebbal flyover or Silk board Junction.

While Buddha’s noble eight fold path talks about ending of suffering and the path to Nibbana,  I tend to think, some suffering of existence (Sankhara Dukkha) is  real and alive for many of us ordinary humans.  As Thich Nhat Hanh said, “If we learn to suffer well, we suffer less from suffering.”

How do we learn to. Suffer?  How do we build those mental muscles and develop mental resilience??

Stoic way is one of the ways. But I found it very dry and robot like.  They teach you to anticipate what is going to happen and prepare you for it.  Like a vaccination dose.

In my humble view, Orientalist practices are better.

First, accepting reality as it is.  Accepting reality as it is or seeing the world with a clear mind.  Realizing that life is what happens to you when you have other plans. When one gets Tinnitus (like ME!), and one learns that there is no CURE for it, one suffers only when refuses to accept that fact of life.  Just a few years back, I landed in deep depression due to Tinnitus.  Everything (Friends, motivation talks, Psychiatrist, medicines )  helped me to an extent.  What really helped me was when I started meditating on it. 

My psychiatrist, when I met him for the first time during my depression days, did not rush to prescribe medicines.  He told me no one can with stand perfect silence.  The max time one could stay in an anechoic chamber (the quietest place in the world) are just a few minutes.  Let me quote from an article from Smithsonian , which I treasure in Evernote library , “ Everybody seems to be looking for a little peace and quiet these days. But even such a reasonable idea can go too far. The quietest place on Earth, an anechoic chamber at Orfield Laboratories in Minnesota, is so eerily noiseless that visitors have used it to see how long they can stand the sound of their own bodies. Inside the room, it’s silent—so silent that the background noise is measured in negative decibels, meaning it’s below the threshold of human hearing.  With no audible background noise to cover it up, visitors report hearing the sound of blood pumping in their heads or moving through their veins, according to Caity Weaver of the New York Times Magazine. Or, as Casey Darnell writes for the Star Tribune, you can even hear the sound of your eyelids shutting upon blinking. With no audible background noise to cover it up, visitors report hearing the sound of blood pumping in their heads or moving through their veins, according to Caity Weaver of the New York Times Magazine. Or, as Casey Darnell writes for the Star Tribune, you can even hear the sound of your eyelids shutting upon blinking.”

For those who would have done Vipassana, one start feeling those sensations in one’s body,  one start hearing the voice of your cells , in 7th or 8th day, as one goes deeper into oneself.  So we are in a sense oriented towards it. But not for anechoic chamber.

When you meditate on Tinnitus one realizes that it is not one flat ghost noise in your mind.  There are finer nuances to it. It changes tunes and rhythms. And it almost becomes musical. One realizes that. Tinnitus is not different from you. You are Tinnitus.  Once we reach there, it recedes to one far corner in the vast galaxy of our brain. And when you start mediating on Tinnitus, instead of fighting it our, yearning for no tinnitus sound every moment of one’s waking life, the aha moment comes. Silence of the mind is different from the silence of sound.  Even in the top of Himalayas , one can get troubled by the silence , while right in the midst of silk board flyover traffic jam, with horns blaring, once can be at peace with himself.

Accepting life as it happens to you at any moment is the first lesson on how to suffer and master suffering.

While there is a famous saying , “What you resist, persists”, It is important to understand acceptance is not blind acceptance of learned helplessness. No way.  It is just being aware of life as it occurs to you, seeing reality as it is.   We need to remember that every border line that we draw between our experiences and us are also possible battlelines as well.   It is in that choiceless  awareness, your suffering becomes extinguished.

And the second step is of living a life of gratitude.  It is about being thankful of non-toothache, while you are done with your stint with your toothache.   While we have a tooth ache or migraine, all we want is a state of non-tooth ache or no-migraine.  But do we every say to ourselves, what a nice day / moment. No tooth-aches!  It is not just some heartwarming Chicken soup for the soup stuff !

In a scientific study conducted by Scott Barry Kauffman , says ,   Gratitude is the most predictive factor of one’s wellbeing.  And love of learning comes second.  Every other traits / character strengths are distance third to last.

I read that article in Scientific American , almost 3 years after I started journaling 3 Good things in my life every day.  (Thanks to Dr. Martin Seligman). And it did turn around my life. That is another blog for the future .:-)

So counting our blessings, seeing silver lines in dark clouds, being happy when we get a plate of simple idly vada or a hot cup of. South Indian filter coffee, a smile from a loved one, an affectionate bark from  Jackie Mu, an act of kindness ess and compassion from a stranger, the list can go one that the required. 3 blessings for a day.

It is so simple, easy and straightforward. But when we are gratitude for non-toothaches and no-migraines,  it kind of lessens our suffering , when suffering of Sankhara does knocks our doors of our mind.

Happiness and (un)Happiness.

by | Aug 4, 2024 | Compassion, Empathy, Grief, Joy

List 30 things that make you happy.

 

 

Happiness make me happy .  Not things. 

 Firstly things dont make me happy or sad.

Though i do enjoy “things”, even if i dont get them, does not affect me much. For example, a good hot cup of south indian filter coffee. I do relish when i get.. There are days when i dont. That does not hit the Joy /Sorrow Quotient in my heart even a bit.

 Moments in life, experiences , thoughts and feelings do.  Happiness of everyone around me and myself. That everyone include all the sentient beings I come in touch either directly or indirectly. Last month I mourned the death of Jackie Mu, our Zendog at Little flower zendo. Though we used to meet just for a week every month I used to go there, there was some spiritual connect . Then I felt joy when I recollect the long walks we used to have together.

It is also important to note that, sadness , suffering and tragedies of make me sad . Then one realize they are sides of a same coin what we call as Life . One view is that there may not be much need of any happiness and joy if there was no sorrow and sadness in our world . The question that school of thought raises is “What is the need of happiness / joy in a world where there is no sorrow or sadness.”. But then Joy is not just the absence of sorrow. When we have toothache and suffer the pain, our happy state will be the absence of it. But during normal times, we dont get overjoyed just because we dont have a toothache.

Last week there was this great tragedy at Wynad . One news report said , the rescue workers had to identify a small girl with the henna design on her leg . They could just get a few pieces of her mortal remains. And that hit me quite hard. I was quite sad . Then today early morning , I woke up early to drive to Lalbagh for a morning walk with Thara. We had a long walk . And I suddenly thought that girl may have bloomed again as that yellow bell flower. Or that koel who was singing sitting on that yellow bell flower tree. Don’t know for sure . Surely, we dont have anyway of knowing it for sure. Even that thought might have arisen in me as my mind was trying to comfort me. Even that thought brought a smile in my heart and face .

So it is not 30 things . If things indeed would have made happy, Ambanis and Adanis of this world , would have been the most happiest of people. The way they  try to be happy, by showering really expensive gifts to  their acquaintances and try to make them happy through things, does point out that.  The millions of moments in our life. They bring in happiness to a large extent and to some times (un) happiness.

But true joy (which is not even part of happiness((un)happiness scale) occurs to us, when we are in really in union with the universe. When we get totally lost  in a lovely sunset, beauty of a  flower petal,  and wonderful design of a leaf,  when a  dog recognizes from a distance even after a long break,  then true joy occurs.  And it occurs when. I am not in the picture of my mind. But the moment we realize it , it is gone.  Experiences  objectify them. And especially when we try to count it through value judgement, those things gets commodified.  When things dont make you happy, there is even lesser chance commodities will  do.  The moment we realize that, true joy comes back. 

 

 

 

 

 

Jackie Mu…. the Zendog pal. :(

Jackie Mu…. the Zendog pal. :(

by | Jul 14, 2024 | Compassion, Empathy, Gratitude, Grief, Zen

The first dog in my life was fictional hero of Jack London’s “The Call of the Wild”. Buck was his name. In that wonderful story, Jack Thornton, saves Buck from being beaten to death and becomes his friend and master. I had read the translated version of the book umpteen times.  That book came along with a few other good books, as a gift from winning a quiz competition conducted by. Kerala Sastra Sahitya Parishad.  . And the picture of Buck, half St. Bernard and half sheep dog was etched in my memory as carved in stone.  Thanks to Jack London who was great storyteller.  Much later, in 2020, a Hollywood movie was released with. Harrison Ford as Jack. Thornton.  The movie was quite good. Still the novel was greater. Maybe I would have read it too many times during a very impressionable age of young mind.

During my childhood days in Thenkara, we (Sasi, Sandhya and myself) had adopted an Indian mongrel and named him Jackie.  HE was a wonderful dog with a great temperament.   I can still recall the majestic way that dog used to rest on one of pillars of our gate and just gazing at the road.  Once that dog was passed away, there wasn’t any other dog in our life. When I got married to Thara, they had a photo album with full of pictures of their pet dogs.  And later though Rishi and. Manu wanted to bring in a pet, Thara vetoed it saying, confining a dog to an apartment is like putting them in a prison. Also, in her considered view, the tiled floor does not suit dogs.

Since Jan 2023, i started going to Little Flower Zendo regularly, every month. In Little flower Zendo, there was a half-tamed street dog.  Maybe she was a cross from one of the estate guard dogs, she had a majestic look and behaved like a hound.  She was adopted by a long-time resident of Zendo from Delhi, Tithy. Tithy is a great dog lover, and she took care of Jackie Mu very royally and most lovingly and compassionately. Like Joy Adamson taking care of the Lioness Elsa.   Dog food and snacks, to bed and blanket and regular Vet visits, Regular baths and even a medicine kit. As we used to go to Zendo room for our early morning Zazen, it was quite a sight, when the Doggie used to walk around with blanket on. She used to look for people , to help her with taking off the blanket.

 

The dog had many names Jackie, Laddo etc.  And we added the surname Mu to her name, when we ordered a name plate for her.  Mu is the most important Zen Koan.

That was the first Koan  in the collection of Koan book named. “The Gateless Gate”. Though the “Sound of one hand clapping” seems to be more popular, and most quoted in articles about Zen and Koan.  In my view, Mu is the most important.  It goes like this. The 8th century Chinese Zen Master, whose Japanese name is Jôshû, is asked by a monk whether or not a dog has the Buddha nature. He replies with one syllable, one ideograph, Mu (無) which can mean “nothing.””A monk asked Jôshû in all earnestness, ‘Does a dog have Buddha nature or not?’ Jôshû said, ‘Mu!’.  Without a doubt, Jackie Mu  had it. Buddha nature. .

Without a doubt she was one of the wisest and smartest canines I knew.  Better than Jack London’s Buck. Out of the 15 odd rooms in Zendo, she knew which door to knock at for food. Whom to be friendly with and who should be kept away.

And Jackie Mu was my morning walk guide.

Her eager head will pop up in the verandah ,  the moment Zendo bells rings for the Zazen end. And at 730 am sharp, the moment our breakfast used to finish, she used to be ready for her  morning walk. The stretching was her order for us to be ready for the walk.

knew the way from. Little Flower Zendo to Bodhi zendo, a good 3.5 km through the main ghatt road and estate roads and used to lead me. She used to run quite ahead. And then wait at a curve or turning, looking back for me to catch up with her.  And the on the way back, we used to stop at the roadside tea stall Surya just opposite to the St. Thomas Church, For r my tea and biscuits for her.

 

After Tithy went back to Delhi, for quite a few days  Jackie Mu acted as if she is lost her way in this world.  Never even cookies and sacks used to appeal so much.  There was quite a bit of pressure from others to keep the dog out of the Zendo.  According to them, she became a bit more aggressive. May be the doggie started feeling less cared.    And Fr. AMA told me as I come only for a week in a month, there is no one else  who can take care of her. And at 89, he is too old.   Still, whenever I used to land at the Zendo, after every 3 weeks, her overjoyed reception said it all. During my short stay, she used to shift her place at the zendo, whichever floor and room wherever I used to stay.  And she kind started to follow me wherever I go. And Fr. Ama did see quite a few times our morning walk routine, he chose not to mention about it to me again.

Some time back, at 9 : 37 pm, as I was penning my daily 3 blessings in my note book  before I hit the bed,  got this WhatsApp message.  “Vishy, I was just informed that Jackie Mu passed away yesterday. I am so sorry. I don’t have more details.” And when I called up Zendo, they told me, she came to Zendo today afternoon, there was blood oozing out from her nose. She lied down in her favourite place just outside the meditation hall near that  Buddha Statue and peacefully breathed her last.

I kind of felt a pang in my heart.  Last time I felt that way was when my ex-Boss SMR had passed away.   As if some part deep within you dies down.  And I just wrote this note as a tribute to one of the pals I had in my life.  Who taught me the answer to the Koan “Mu”  from. The Gateless Gate.  As i understand,  Mahayana Buddhism does not believe in a nonchanging, soul per se.  And I am sure, Jackie Mu would have left it behind at the Zendo for us, even if she had one.

On. 20 July next Saturday morning, when i will be getting down the steep numberless steps to Zendo, i will miss the overjoyed welcome party of wet nose  and  holy presence of unconditional love from Buddha Nature. 🙁

 

Skip to content