The Dark Side of the Moon

A full moon and a crisp London night. Its my 35th birthday and I feel as if a new breath fills my soul. I have shattered all  the shackles that held me fast,finally I am here. I take a look out at that moon and start pouring all this jubilation running through my veins,never again will I forget all that I knew that I had forgotten. All that I had gained was dust,all that remains is what I always knew. 

The only person holding you back is you. The only person stopping you is you.  Break the walls of pretension , the sound of that shattering glass will set you free. Free from approval, free from pretence, free from the oppressing weight of expectation.

Believe in your intuition, it will never lead you astray. Don’t let your mind colour how you feel, don’t let reason put that primitive compass aside.

Dream dreams wild and strange, dream dreams that make you soar, let your soul breathe in your imagination.

Be mindful of the present, live each moment in its entirety. In that moment there is no future, there is no past. Breathe in the here and now. Feel the bark of a tree, the damp in the grass. Look at life in all its glory, find joy in the simplest things, a gentle breeze, an apple tree.

Let go of people, of memories, of things that haunt. Understand the root of each negative feeling, accept the pain. Let go of envy, of jealousy. Let go of hate and make room for tolerance, make room for empathy. Make room for contentment; make room for the difference in you and me.

Be honest with yourself, be honest even if it cuts and bleeds for only then will you heal. Be honest about your weakness, about your sins, about your humanity.

Accept yourself; accept your pain, your mistakes, and your scars. Accept your ugliness; accept the reality of your being. Accept the grand scheme of things.

Forgive the darkness; nothing will convert that darkness into light except forgiveness. Forgive yourself, forgive others. Forgive their ignorance, their deceit; forgive their darkness and their schemes. The darkness within makes them blind, they injure no one but themselves.

Love fiercely, love passionately, love like a fool, love like the wind. Don’t rationalize, don’t think don’t reason. Love changes everything, it transforms everything. Don’t wait to receive love, give love unconditionally without reason without fear.

Travel far and near, climb a mountain, sit under a maple tree. Let nature heal you; let it hear your stories, let it whisper in your ears. Marvel in Allah’s creations, their beauty, and their simplicity. Let the wind cleanse you of your oppressing weights, let the water purge you of your sins.  Let the moon shine its light and fill you with awe.

Live each day as it were the last; tell your loved ones their place in your life. Don’t leave things unsaid, undone, don’t procrastinate in spreading joy. Don’t let your ego dictate and blind you. Don’t let regret haunt you; don’t let fear hold you back. Death is an ardent lover of life, waiting just a breath away.

Learning to Fly

I am marketer by profession,goes without saying that I am driven by a consumerist culture. In today’s world you are what you own. You are the car you drive, the watch you wear; you are the brand of shirt and the brand of shoe. You are everything that is quantifiable, measurable. No wonder then, even when we know it’s a fake Gucci and Polo, we would still rather wear the fake for otherwise how is anyone to evaluate our social standing in the hierarchy of things.

I am no more above this culture than any other average woman; rather I admit I have always had a taste for finer things, not so much as to define my social standing but because I  am slave to my own habits. I look back with little satisfaction at my role in spreading discontentment among my peers; as a marketer it was a job that applied to all aspects of my life.  The person who has little experiences the worst inferiority complexes, borne much out of one’s own lack of self worth; than a derogatory intent proposed by the others. Neither is happy, the “have-nots” rotting away with the thought of the unattainable; the “haves”, forever in a quest to maintain their social positions. The trouble is that this rat keeps chasing its own tail till tired of its useless pursuits its finally succumbs.

There is an interesting story on why I started analysing with dismay my consumer habits and their impact on my life and it all started with a Bag.

There is a rather weird chemistry between me and things; I say weird because I have not been able to understand a most remarkable phenomenon; which is, Every time I covet something subconsciously (otherwise it does not work), it somehow materializes in my life. I mean I don’t buy them they just drop in (I know incredible right!). So one day roaming around town I saw this Bag, which by all standards can be called the father of all designer bags and as I said earlier, subconsciously I admired it and thought well that’s one thing I am not spending money to get but it is amazing.

Fast forward six months and friend come to visit after a very long time; bearing a box. And yes, there it was in all its glory sitting on my table; the very Bag…..

….The first few days I was quite excited and overjoyed but with every passing day it started to feel like a burden. I was so conscious of spoiling it and ruining it (before I had a chair; it had to sit). Initially I didn't mind the attention it got, but gradually I started having mix feeling about carrying it around.

In my personal life this was a time of dark days followed by dark nights, I was battling depression and anxiety followed by the Autism diagnosis of my little boy. It was also the time for making new choices and shedding an old skin. If ever there was a blessing in my life it is having someone like Sheru. He changed the very lens of my world and this world in all its glory I started seeing in brand new colours. Sheru was able to forge open a window that no text I had ever read could. He has taught me and continues to teach me all the lessons that no great Master could have taught. With Sheru I am learning humility and patience; I am learning unconditional love and acceptance.

And while all this was taking place here was this Bag and all that it symbolized; ambition, wealth, power, success.  How it begged to be looked at, how it begged for approval. I didn't have it because I liked it I had it because of what it embodied; What it said about who I was, where I was. It was a badge that I wore that allowed me to enter a certain mindset, a certain Diaspora of people. It allowed me to feel worthy of having such a thing in my life, It allowed me to bask in those admiring glances of other women. It made me feel superior and important. It earned me a place on the table of high- powered- discontent. It belittled my soul and reduced me to the status of a fickle materialistic snob, who neither knows better nor does better. It made me spared discontentment among those who could not have it; it endeared me to those very rats chasing their very tails. And so this is what it boils down to; all those theories of altruism and selflessness. All that charade of being content; the mirror that the Bag held to my face had an ugly face in it. It showed a scared woman, a woman who wanted the wrong people to approve of her existence to validate her life. It showed a weak woman whose words and actions were at a tangent. It showed a shallow woman who judged people by their covers.

The next day “Khala” an elderly woman who helped around the house was seen taking her everyday groceries in that very Bag. Entirely unconscious of the nuisance value of her new procession; content that all the veggies were secured.