A Sunlit Morning

It is a glorious morning. After a spell of refreshing rain during the past few weeks, it feels wonderful to see the bright and cheerful face of the sun. I can hear the soft flutter of wings as the birds, in their multitude of colors, fly past my window into the lovely blue sky. The white puffs of clouds remind me of vanilla ice cream and cotton candy.

Nature comes alive in all its vibrance as the sun rises and its warm rays touch all things living and non-living alike, urging them to fulfill their purpose to the best of their ability as if it was their last day on mother earth. Young sparrows chirp in their nests while being fed as if in gratitude for life, trying hard each day to strengthen their wings to lift off in flight.

The trees and little plants look so tranquil in the fresh morning air, gently swaying in the soft breeze. Drops of dew on their lush green leaves shine like diamonds as sunlight kisses them tenderly. They seem to be drawn to the sun as if in love with the life-giving golden light, propelling their happy, smiling faces upwards to grow, blossom and flourish for their Creator.

Advertisements

Devotion or Pollution? Nature is a Work of Art!

One day, a professor of art asked his very eager and eager students, “Do you put in a huge amount of effort into the art you create?” His students replied, “Of course! We devote ourselves day and night working on and perfecting our techniques. Behind every masterpiece created, there is years of unseen practice.” The professor smiled and replied, “I see. So your art is a very precious creation for you; it is like your baby.” The students replied, “Indeed Sir. We work very hard to create those intricate details, put a great deal of thought into it, lot of love, care and attention. It is very gratifying when people delight in our art and look after them well.” The professor was thoughtful and nodded his head with a smile.

He continued, “Let me tell you the story of a little boy whose mother was an artist. As he grew up, everyday, the boy watched his mother work very hard, practice and improve her methods. In her lifetime she created a great many paintings and they became extremely famous and renowned. One day, she gave her most labored, cherished and most beautiful painting for her son to keep and enjoy, and peacefully passed away. In honour of his mother, to glorify and celebrate her name, the son displayed this painting in his home and lighted candles every year on her anniversary, as an ode to her. Year after year he did this piously and ceremoniously.

Although he noticed that the candles were depositing soot, grime and damaging the painting his mother created with painstaking effort, the boy did not care. He was too busy filling and inflating his own ego about how great and devoted a son he was to celebrate his mother as such; his mother must be grateful to him instead of complaint, as no other son glorifies his mother as he. One such anniversary, a windy night that it was, the fire of the candle touched the painting and the whole thing went up in flames leaving only ash as remains of what was once true beauty.

Did the son realise his folly? Was it wise to foolishly and pompously ruin someone’s hard work? What use was such a realization now that it was too late? Was it possible to restore what was destroyed by pseudo devotion? Is it true devotion when there is no thought for others and it satisfies only one’s ego? Now that you have listened to this story, tell me your feelings, my dear students.”

The students were thoughtful and absorbed by the narrative. “It is a shame. It is an atrocity, indeed.” The professor calmly went on to ask them, “Now let me ask you a different question, do you feel that nature inspires the artist in you? When you’re stuck with an idea, do you feel that a walk among the trees, sitting by a lake, or feeling the breeze on your cheeks at the sea helps you open up your soul and create beauty? Or does a walk along a grimy, dirty road with vehicles honking, smoke, dust and poisonous gases oozing into the air and people shouting curses… does this inspire you?” All the students burst out laughing, “Of course not Sir, beautiful nature inspires us.”

The professor continued, “My dear students, now tell me, don’t you think that nature is the work of art by God, in all its majestic beauty and glory. Don’t you feel that by using non-ecofriendly firecrackers at Diwali festival celebrations, we are pretty much like the son who ruined his mother’s work of art in the end due to his own misdirected devotion. Isn’t it our own ego that we are celebrating, if we do not have concern for God’s painstaking creation, His beautiful nature? Shouldn’t we correct our ways? Please ponder on this during this season, and do what you feel is the best way to celebrate God. As for me, I am sure that kindness, compassion, consideration for others and nature, and preserving nature’s purity is the best way to glorify His name.”

One Soul

Maybe if we were all colour-blind to see only one skin tone, if we were all deaf to hear only the language of the heart, if we all worshipped only the sun that nourishes all…animals, plants, humans alike, maybe if our eyes only saw souls instead of bodies. There would be no problems in this world. Instead we would see only the beauty that lies within each human and accept them. Perhaps we need to become blind and deaf in order to become truly one human.

One Blood – Human Red

In a planet where colour disconnected people, her colour was human blood red.
In a planet where religion divided people, her religion was compassion.

In a planet where politics split and imprisoned the human heart, her politics was freedom.
In a land where people spoke more than 15 languages, her language was love.
In a land where caste separated people, her caste was harmony.
In a land where the north and south were set apart, she was Indian.
In a land where people thought of themselves different from others around them based on the above “groupism”, she saw that the type of music they created and loved, tastes in art forms were one and the same across the length and breadth of the country, uniquely Indian.

Her eyes only sought the light that shone in people’s heart. Her eyes searched for friends whose light matched hers. Among all her friends that grouped themselves, she saw each individual’s qualities, character, strength, compassion, honesty, kindness, love, affection, friendship, integrity, loyalty, respect, humility, generosity. This was her race, language, religion, caste, region and age.

Groupism destroys the beauty that can become reality in our lives if only we truly open our hearts.