RUMInations

I have been meaning to discover Rumi's work for a very long time but I guess my purpose just took on a form of intent. Isn't it said that there's always a designated time and place for everything? Doesn't time have a way of taking time? All said and done, I finally did embark on my RUMInations journey and it has been one kick of a start. For the uninitiated, Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi was a 13th-century Persian poet and mystic.

The general theme of Rumi's thought, like that of any other mystic and Sufi poet of Persian literature, involves the concept of tawhid- union with his beloved (the primal root) from which/whom he has been cut off and become aloof- and his longing and desire to restore it.¹

Rumi composed 3500 odes (Ghazals), 2000 quatrains (Rubaiyat), and a vast spiritual epic called the Mathnawi. It is considered one of the best known and most influential works of both Sufism and Persian literature and some Sufis label it as the Persian-language Qur'an. The Diwan-e Šams-e Tabrizi is another of Rumi's masterpieces. A collection of lyric poems that contains more than 40,000 verses, it is written in the Dari dialect and named in honor of Rumi's great friend and inspiration, the dervish Shams Tabrizi. These sheer numbers give a fair idea of the volume of Rumi's work.

Just a few snippets of his all-encompassing devotional & inspiring poetry:

Last night a friend asked me, "Where is your homeland?"
I said nothing, for what could I say?
My homeland is not Egypt or Syria or Iraq.
My homeland's a place that has never had a name.
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As salt resolved in the ocean
I was swallowed in God's sea,
Past faith, past unbelieving,
Past doubt, past certainty.

Suddenly in my bosom
A star shone clear and bright;
All the suns of heaven
Vanished in that star's light.
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Flowers every night
Blossom in the sky;
Peace in the Infinite;
At peace am I.

Sighs a hundredfold
From my heart arise;
My heart, dark and cold,
Flames with my sighs.
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I sought a soul in the sea
And found a coral there
Beneath the foam of mine
An ocean was laid bare.
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From now on I will make burning my aim,
for I am like the candle: burning only makes me brighter.
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All theologies are straws His Sun burns to dust;
Knowing takes you to the threshold, but not through the Door.
Nothing can teach you if you don't unlearn everything
How learned I was, before Revelation made me dumb.
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One day you will look back and laugh at yourself.
You'll say, "I can't believe I was so asleep!
How did I ever forget the truth?
How ridiculous to believe that sadness and sickness
Are anything other than bad dreams."
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This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
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What I want to tell you is that all of these words I speak, out of love and inspiration and whatever knowledge God has graced me with, are for the sake of the person who needs words in order to understand. As for the person who understands without words, obviously he or she doesn't need words at all. In fact, to the one who really understands, the heavens and the earth themselves are "words"; after all; they came into being through "words"- the Divine Words "Be! And it is." If someone can hear a low, subtle whisper, is there any need to shout and scream?

Make everything in you an ear, each atom of your being, and you will hear at every moment what the source is whispering to you, just to you and for you, without any need for my words or anyone else's. You are- we all are- the beloved of the Beloved, and in every moment, in every event of your life, the Beloved is whispering to you exactly what you need to hear and know. Who can ever explain this miracle? It simply is. Listen and you will discover it every passing moment. Listen, and your whole life will become a conversation in thought between you and Him, directly, wordlessly, now and always.

It was to enjoy this conversation that you and I were created.²

I don't know whether I'd be able to make everything in me an ear (have always been a little hard of hearing) but will try to keep an open eye (not that the eyesight is all that great) for all that the Mawlana has to say.

In case any of you'd like to ruminate, please visit the following links which also happen to include References:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jalal_ad-Din_Muhammad_Rumi¹
http://www.poetseers.org/the_poetseers/rumi
Light Upon Light by Andrew Harvey²

TPA

There's something about Hospitals and their sign-boards and well, me. Another hospital- Rockland this time and another sign-board that read- Cash/TPA.

My brother and I had a lot of time to kill so we decided to spend it by figuring out what-the-blazes-in-the-world could TPA stand for. The following are the few full-forms (in decreasing order of relevance and sense) we came up with till we got fed up with the exercise and asked a nurse what it did mean after all.

Total Payable Amount
Therapeutic Painless Administration
Third Person Account
Total Patients Admitted
Total Pain Alleviated
Total Patient Aaram
Troubled Patients Allowed
Talli/Tun Patients Approved
Temperature Pain Ache
Throat Protection Apparatus
Tooth Pick Ache
Toxic Pathogen Ascertained
Tauba Patients Aaye
Tonight's Party Arranged
Theoretical Practical Analytical
Toilet Paper Association
Throw Pillow Around
Tum Pass Aaye
Tootha Phoota Association
Tohar Paise Amaar

The thing is what TPA stands for happens to be Third Party Administrators. How very boring!

The Fall and Rise of Roger Federer

Another Sunday. Another Men's Grand Slam Final. Another jam-packed stadium. The only thing out of place was the finalist. Conspicuous by his absence was Federer's nemesis- Rafa, his place taken by a snowed under Soderling. And, as if by divine intervention, Federer finally won the elusive French Open.

What else can explain Rafael Nadal's absence from his Mecca- the clay court, if not fate? Because had he been there on the court last night, Federer would have had to fight a battle of the indomitable human spirit yet again and in all probability he would have lost- again.
Because had the Spaniard been there yesterday, he would have been in his element and exactly what he is- a bull. A non-tiring, inexhaustible veritable mine of energy. (I sometimes feel he is a mutant or a super-human, genetically engineered, perhaps?)
Because had Rafa won again, Fedex would have cried. And this time, my heart would not have gone out to him the way it did at the Australian Open finals.
But, all these things didn't happen, because destiny finally decided to bestow her smile on Federer and he did cry after all, but there was no mistaking the joy and pride in those misty, dewy eyes.

Jimmy Connors once said "In an era of specialists- you're either a clay court specialist, a grass court specialist or a hard court specialist...or you're Roger Federer."

It is generally agreed upon that Federer is the greatest tennis champion the world has seen for a while. Federer has reached where he is by sheer grit and tenacity. And he needed this win- not to prove to the world the champion that he is, but to vindicate himself. After all, a winner needs to set personal benchmarks, to be the best of the best. And, if it really takes a little bit of luck, a certain tweaking of the circumstances, an evident absence of a worthy opponent to get a hold of what is rightfully yours, so be it. What is meant to be- will be. (He'll take care of Rafa another day!)

So, what exactly does Federer teach us? More importantly, what is that we can learn from him? The Roland Garros cup (and the other innumerable cups and shields) will always serve to remind him and all of us that perseverance and skill are always rewarded. No one can fake effort; talent is great, but determination is necessary.

Federer reminds me of the Phoenix- the mythical bird of lore- his tendency to fall but his ability to rise again; to embrace defeat but acknowledge its learning; to accept fame but be wary of its fallouts; to welcome a winning streak but always with humility; to allow tears but recognize their healing power. And that's what makes a true champion. Way to go, Fedex!

Looking forward to a Wimbledon Fed-Rafa final. And praying for an emphatic Federer win!

AngLES & DeMOANS- Part II

My bro also got the lucky chance to watch A & D at the same theatre where I had the pleasure of viewing it. Apart from the movie, he got a wonderful opportunity of watching a 15 minute documentary titled "Kafann" about alcohol and its effects. After every 2 minutes, someone screamed "Kafann" to emphasize that that's exactly what you'll be wrapped in case you watch movies at this cinema hall; Oops, I meant, that's what in store for you in case you consume more alcohol than you can buy. Also, he saw the silent version of A & D when the sound was turned off for 5 minutes during the film climax. Phew! And, to top it all, he ate stale popcorn and survived to tell the tale. The food isn't poisonous there after all. Wonder what makes people puke then.

What can I say- life is unfair. I missed "Kafann"- sounds so much better than A & D!

AngLES & DeMOANS

The movie distributors - multiplex owners standoff is resulting in very interesting consequences, the most prominent of course being that new movies are being run at non-descript cinema halls. So, I had to go and watch A & D at such a weird theatre near me, which happens to be in R.K.Puram and in case, Aap Panchvi Pass Se Teez Hai, so you'd know which movie hall I am talking about.

Anyway, it was an amazing, life-changing experience. Just makes you realize that you should be thanking God all the time for multiplexes and their lesser revamped, renovated singleplexes. Anticipating a very high turnout for the movie, I thought I'd call up and find out about ticket availability.
Me: Hello, are you currently airing Angels & Demons?
Hall Personnel: Yes, we are airing AngLES & DeMOANS.
Me: In English, right?
Hall Personnel: Of course.
Me: Would tickets be available, let's say for the 3:30 show?
Hall Personnel: Depends- You never know. (I bet he had a twinkle in his eye when he said that but I couldn't confirm it over the telephone line)

As it turns out, I really did not know, because the tickets were so easily available that if I had walked in the next day, I still would have got tickets for the previous day. 100/- Balcony- Imagine! But, let me assure you, a 100/- ticket is not as good as it sounds.

The theatre was, well, in a dilapidated state. It seemed like the roof would cave in any moment. And guess what, there were fans and tube lights there- lends a whole old meaning to surround-sound and light; though I think am being hyper-critical, the fans seem to have been fit-in to circulate the AC air. The seats were fixed, wouldn't budge- neither hither nor thither and the one next to mine looked as if it had been puked on, which wouldn't really be surprising coz the beverages and food being served looked positively poisonous. One very interesting and beneficial feature, though, provided at the theatre was a Spit Box.

Where do you find these in multiplexes? I mean- think about it, if in the middle of a movie, you get an insane urge to spit, what would you do? Where would you go? What- Where, indeed.

A very odd smell permeated the entire area. Could it be because the ladies toilet was broken and under repair? Well, if people are allowed to spit and vomit to their hearts and stomachs content, wouldn't peculiar smells be a theatre owner's USP?

The movie didn't begin a full 25 minutes after the scheduled timing. Everyone was waiting with bated breath (what a surprise) for some special event, Sitaram Yechury included. And as soon as a few enthusiastically bored audience members of the front stall started hooting, catcalling and jeering in general the movie began promptly.

Okay, now for the "film" review- it's a good movie- way better than The Da Vinci Code. It's good to see Tom Hanks return to 1/8th of his usual self. And Ewan McGregor is absolutely yummy. Are we allowed to speak like that about actors who are playing wannabe-popes? Please forgive my sin, Father.

P.S. - The book was better. Aren't books anyway and any day?