Om Beliefs Svaha

Yesterday after a long time I attended a havan. The 'long time' was at least long enough to put some things in perspective. And a few questions which had not popped up in a while in my mind, came up surging. Which direction is the inclination of my beliefs with respect to Theism and Agnosticism? Is the disbelief in belief grounded in a more stronger Theistic belief that I might have been suppressing inside just because of my stubborn nonconformity to the expression of belief.

Two days ago I saw Ingmar Bergman's 'The Seventh Seal' and here's something I got out of it. The protagonist says this while confessing to the priest:
"Is it so hard to conceive God with one's senses? Why must He hide in a midst of vague promises and invisible miracles? How are we to believe the believers when we don't believe ourselves? What will become of us who want to believe but cannot? And what of those who neither will nor can believe? Why can I not kill God within me? Why does He go on living in a painful, humiliating way? I want to tear Him out of my heart, but He remains a mocking reality which I cannot get rid of. Do you hear me?"

In some ways it reflected my sentiments too. But, that is not the entire picture.

The importance of the havan as a form of prayer comes in right at this point. Havan (Yagna) is an invocation of the Vedic gods. The very same Vedic concepts which through their interpretation via the Upanisads prompted me to formulate questions on the beliefs. Vedic religion (I call it that because I want to segregate it from the present day view of most, if not all of Hinduism) in its most ancient form is not a religion in the truest sense of today. Rather than being a doctrinaire which directs humans on the path of God, its emphasis lay on bringing to light the path inside of you and letting you find if and where that God creature really is. It is a freedom. It is a belief on the basis of which one can question his beliefs.

And what are these basic beliefs? They are just simple nothings, so simple to comprehend, that one misses the point simply because of their simplicity. There were a couple of things that the priest conducting the havan emphasized while, which I'll repeat here. The priest himself was a former Sanskrit Professor, now part of Arya Samaj and by his mannerisms and conductance it was clear he was a man of sufficient understanding.

In the havan after the invocation one chants word svaha and idannanama, the two words which the priest emphasized. For me then, the God one is trying to invoke and the purpose for the invocation is not what matters. What matters lies is the simple meaning of svaha and idannanama. Idannanama, this is not mine. Svaha, I verily lay the purpose unto you. There it is, the end of the root cause of all misery, the ego. Two simple little things that put Existentialism put to death.

What it says to me is that I can do what I want to do with my screwed up beliefs and disbeliefs in my mind. But, the beliefs which permit the questioning of the beliefs lay well grounded, whether seen or unseen.

http://www.arya-samaj.org/content/sermons/sermon21jan07.pdf

I Thought I Saw it Twinkle

Staring into the dark tunnel of belief
Occasionally there twinkles a star
Bright, yet not bigger than a point
Glows, yet doesn't get brighter from less far

Its twinkling is a deja vu
A sign of apparent motion
In time if not in space
Reassuring this momentary stagnation
Is but just a passing phase

If the tunnel of belief remains dark up till the end
Or hope against hope manifests the eternal glow
I keep treading on along
I'll know when I get to know

I See You

I see you,
with the eyes of an artist
who never misses a spot
on his canvas of observation.

I hear you,
through the ears of a musician
who catches every sound
as a note in the nature's chord.

I touch you,
as a dancer's step
who in every movement
knows not if is moving or dancing.

I feel you,
as a poet feels his metaphor
to describe that elusive feeling
that has not a name to it.

I am you
as an actor's psyche
who is born in his character's shoes
and dies when the curtain falls.

Real from Surreal, Surreal from Real

Moment of Reality between Two Dreams

What disturbs me,
between two sleep cycles of the night,
when dream has just given to reality
though reality not completely yet in sight,
Is what's to wake from dream?
Where does it begin where ends?
When shall I wake from life?
When will reality transcend?

Every new day comes.
Every new day is gone.
What did pass from the past?
As a lesson to the following dawn

Tomorrow I long for a new wave of truth
As the fish gasping for breath longs for rain
in a slowly drying pond
Yet trapped I'd still remain
In the webs of diurnal circles
And mundane logic bonds

Oh why did I
open my eyes
into darkness that pervades so deep?
When at least was comfort
therein closed eyes
of the sweet caressing sleep,
under the dim artificial lights of a dream
Self-illuminating though it may seem.

End of all Reason, End of all Logic

After swimming in the ocean of all reasoning, when we finally get to reach the end of all reason and all logic, there two options ahead. Either to jump back into the same ocean or just stand there, at the periphery wall. If we do choose to remain there at the periphery, at the boundary wall, that's when life becomes an art on that wall... Every moment of life being engraved on that wall, apparently for a reason, but really for no reason.

I know I am at the periphery enjoying these utterly futile moments at present. I know I may jump back in search for even more futility at anytime.

Too much happiness is impending Doom

Seems quiet likely that someone would have said 'man would be the happiest and in his utmost bliss just seconds prior to the end of the world.' I for one have too many such moments, I think...

Too much happiness is impending Doom

You wonder why all are the way they are!
Morose and gloomy and worried and tied.
All combinations of the lock they've tried
And yet to outside their woes, no exit
To shoken and broken dreams, no fixit
Happiness they're trying to find
All their lives, of what's it kind
The drive's to make the world move round
Hardwork and success to have abound
It'll come, it'll come, it'll come one day
They'll wait and wait till the hairs are gray
But where's the joy, oh where's satisfaction
Where O Karma, are the fruits of the action?
Laughs Karma!! and says you poor old fools
To last this world, made you work like mules
You want to know, why there's no end to the gloom?
Well, too much happiness is just impending Doom.

Ha ha ha ha ha....

As purposeful as the Purpose of Existence

Where are you, Oh purpose of existence.
I've wandered long into the depths,
to the farthest star on the clear night sky.
My contemplation taking you only further
from where you were before I began my quest.

What are you, Oh purpose of existence,
Your definitive form from the distance,
loses its boundaries as the perceivable contours merge
when approached rendering the boundaries imperceptible.

But where are you, Oh purpose of death,
For I see you neither,
as I see not the purpose of existence.

pour quoi

This blog is purposely meant to be purposeless.