Zaza: Biddable devil in the details bedeviling bedazzled bedraggled rags bamboozling oozing bombastic bastions on flowing waters rhythm divine vineyard boulevard bandwagon gone by days steady flute lute lyre symphony euphonic upper dipper pert dip into honeycomb combed hair bed combusted Venus. The north star. Continue reading “The End and The Beginning!”
Zaza: Dear master, what’s that smell of havana?
Logos: It was the best of seasons, it was the worst of seasons and then he stopped seasoning. It was the best of homages it was the worst of homages and then he stopped aging. Ginseng songs. Yogis sacrifice Prana into Apana and when you stop living every breath is a sacrifice.
Zaza: The altar of helios.
Logos: The three boogeymen were inside a big hall. They were so seated that none of them could ever see or hear the other. The scriptwriter was witnessing their disjointed mumblings and creating an asynchronistic novella out of it. And witness of witness was merely sitting on a branch in a lush tree with luscious apples in a story in Kathopanishad. Continue reading “Wisdom Winds!”
Logos: This soigne craftsmanship is like a flutist’s song which has gimmickry full to the brim in his invisible bag of knacks.
Zaza: When cretinism took over them, everything started sounding cabalistic–there were pixies all around them and hummingbirds on flowers which bloomed against the azure backdrop of placid sky.
L: Nolan’s best film Memento is based on a short story Memento Mori written by his brother. The meaning of the title is an emblem or reminder in form of death’s-head which signifies your mortality–evanescent nature of your existence. The film also depicts beautifully how memory plays games with us and how mystery is mostly about these games. After-all what is mysterious past if not a fragment here and another there colored differently as we progress ahead to give an unclear meaning to our existence. And I dare say–even all mystery about the future has seeds in our mysterious past–if one is cleared other clears itself, instantaneously.
Z: A waggery vagary, gobsmacked vena, running for the hills or hanging on like hangers–an oblivion ruled by a darkness where amnesia reigns supreme. The watchword is taken for guardian, shadow for reality a medley of unreasonable sweetness. Continue reading “Huckster!”
Note: Contains spoilers as it’s a mystery I recommend watching it before reading this post.
It’s only a synchronicity that I wrote about burning away of Sutti, wife of Shiva in yesterday’s post as it was very similar to what has been portrayed in Darren Aronofsky’s horror mystery. The last scene also becomes the first one: I was struck with memory of a myth I heard about when I was in Vrindavan–one day Uma, consort of lord Shiva looks at a big garland of skulls on Shiva and inquires about it. He refuses to tell at first but when she insists he tells that they were all her skulls. He tells her that he had held her in his arms as she died at the end of cosmic cycle and she had departed as many times as the number of skulls he was wearing in his garland at the end of each cosmic cycle only to transmigrate into another body and again become his consort. The story is symbolic and it alludes to Substratum of reality or Self as Shiva and its active counterpart Shakti. It could also apply to soul and supersoul which are always together but might seem to undergo separation and reunite once again with a greater fervor. Continue reading “Mother!(2017)”
I realized my great fortune of being able to use technology. I was born at the right time to enjoy comforts provided by it. To every generation the past generation technology seems to be bulky and outdated. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to carry VHS cassettes with me to watch my favorite films or to wait many hours to be able to call my friends via trunk operators. In many regards technology has made life of a common man more luxurious and comfortable than even royalties of past centuries who lived before industrial age. Continue reading “Technology of mystery!”
I watched a Youtube video which suggested that Greek mythology called earth Gaia–a living organism. The idea that entire existence including all matter is living consciousness is very near to reality. I found resonance with the idea that earth is actually a vessel of light ascending into the fifth dimension from the viewpoint of all of us who are ascending from third-fourth to the fifth dimension. Treating Gaia as a living spaceship makes us both astronauts and psychonauts. The latter term has been taken from The Tibetan Book of The Dead. I perceived Gaia’s space curvature first in 2012 when under the influence of a substance. It clearly seemed I was in the space on a curved earth. Now as 2016 and dark night of soul started I constantly found solace in the idea of being on a spaceship or in a lab which was a simulation of my previous environments. The idea indeed came from Science-fiction films I had watched before still its resonance was strikingly brilliant and comforting now. People around me, my family members, neighbors, animals, birds and even remote ambulances seemed simulated. They all had an air of unreality about them and they were all extremely fluid and deeply associated with my feelings, thoughts and perceptions. Continue reading “Psychonaut in a Public Mystery school”
You die every moment to be reborn,
The threads of memory are sewn into a rag,
Which seems like a continuous persona,
The threads are hollow and so is the rag which you carry around shoulders,
The real you is born every moment and Now is its mantra,
There is no tantra vaster than that of memories, fears, worries and expectations,
If you clasp the rock-solid reality it slips through, Continue reading “Death and Rebirth!”
This is an incredibly beautiful film and its beauty lies in the fact that even when the title suggests about time travel being a key theme in it–it isn’t. Well, not in a technical sense at least. It’s honest with its title because when the movie completes you realize well that it’s the wife who is the anchor because the man lacks a stable personality–he’s but a shadow–appears and disappears randomly–no reason or rhyme–no sequence or closing of loops–no altering of events or time-lines either as seen in so many time travel movies. Continue reading “The Time Traveler’s Wife(2009)”
“Greatest truth are simplest, like your very own existence…” said Swami Vivekananda. In my childhood I was very fascinated by the mysterious. Somehow I used to equate mysterious with the divine. Now I feel opposite is the truth. Many people think that spiritual must be esoteric and enigmatic. It must be mysterious and it’s true that mysterious attracts your mind because it’s the stuff mind is made of. Mind, ego and the universe are made of falsehood-Maya. They appear to be but they aren’t that is why mind is always attracted towards mysterious and even when you look back at the things you once considered mysterious(which turned out to be simple when observed closely) you still find mind looking out for more mystery where there is none.
Mysterious might be entertaining. It might give you some superficial joy for time being because mind is made of the same stuff but it can’t be the Truth. It’s not peace. All existence is made of one truth. Only one element is and it’s simply you. But when you feel there is some greater truth out there, something mysterious and fascinating–it’s the restless wavering mind which is beguiling you because it’s made of falsehood. All mysterious is false or better say everything mysterious is so because it is false. Falsehood makes things appear mysterious. Dreams are mysterious because they are false. Universe seems infinite and mysterious as different from Self because it’s false. As Self universe is truth and it’s simply you. If magician reveals his tricks he doesn’t appear enigmatic or magnetic anymore, similarly if Maya reveals itself you stop looking for its manifestations. You are truth and simplicity.
I must have been about 3 years old by then. Certain events get inscribed into your psyche and don’t leave you for long. I had so often heard about Malti aunt’s bichhua(belt ladies wear around their waists over sarees in Indian villages and towns) that I was perpetually curious about the incident. Since my studies first and job later on took me away from settings where such incidents were narrated I hardly had an opportunity to inquire about it. What was this about? What had happened which caused such discussion that a 3-year-old had a strange memory and it remained a mystery for him forever? I used to think that bichhua meant some ornament worn in feet until I came across her recently. Since my cousin’s wedding is soon going to happen she is there and I visit them often. I told her about the event and its peculiar memory I had. My relatives do express surprise that I retained a memory since such an early age. She narrated a few things which consolidated the prior memory I had.