life at seventy-three

Rosa is my neighbor. She is a sprightly seventy three years young. She is the grandmother of the street, as also the most well-informed person regarding the neighborhood’s members. She and her husband have lived on this street for more than forty years, and are a part of its living history. But they also live very much in the here and now. Unlike most old people they are not lost in their reminiscences.

She and her husband own two houses and various cars and they are always busy taking care of these. She also pops into her neighbors’ houses now and then to have a chat or take a break. Rosa was taught to talk to everyone, joke around and laugh a lot; and she lives her life by these principles.

She is a strong and forthright woman. She is very helpful to those she likes and can be brusque and abrupt with those she does not. She has had a few fights with people around her as “I don’t take shit from nobody.” She has a good sense of humor and you can hear her greet her neighbors and her laugh bubbling on any given day.

She is originally from Arizona, but has lived in California all her life. She grew up in a nearby area. She has eight brothers and sisters. Her mother has been a tour-de-force in her life and Rosa gets her Weltanschauung from her. Her parents and siblings lived in a one bedroom house. Her parents had the bedroom and all the siblings slept on mattresses that were rolled out on the living room floor at night. Come morning the beddings disappeared and the room transformed back into its daytime avatar.

She was brought up in a touchy-feely family. They believe in hugs and kisses and often she will demand her hug even when meeting someone for the first time. She always parts from someone dear to her with a hug. “For you never know what might happen and if you never get to see them again at least you know you parted nicely”.

Rosa has two sons and one daughter. She lost her youngest son when he was twenty-six. She is glad that when she saw him last she had shared a few laughs and some hugs and kisses with him. She does not believe in baby-sitting for her grandchildren, although she loves them a lot. Her mother did not baby-sit for her kids, except in emergencies, like a visit to the doctor etc.

She believes in independence. She says she will check herself into an apartment complex for elders when she feels she cannot take care of herself, her houses and cars. The couple owns a few antique cars that her husband often tinkers around with. They enjoy going to car rallies and trade fairs.

Her attitude to life is fairly pragmatic. She worked hard during her adult mid-life supporting her kids as a single mother. She divorced her first husband and brought up her kids with little assistance from him. Though she still calls him a jerk, she has no regrets about raising her kids.

She has an interesting story about she got together with her current husband. She lived then in an apartment complex where a lot of single people lived. She had seen Tom several times and exchanged ‘hellos’. She knew she wanted him and had told her mother that too. He had a girl-friend then, but that was not going to stop her, as she was convinced he was her life-mate. Once after a barbeque she asked him if he wanted to go for a drive. At first he was unwilling, but with the aid of another friend in whom she had also confided, he relented. On the drive, Rosa turned on her charms full throttle. Tom or rather his girl-friend did not have much of a chance. They returned to his apartment and she spent the night there. The next morning the girl-friend came to visit and Rosa opened the door. She asked Rosa who she was and Rosa replied “I am Tom’s girl-friend”. The poor girl said “No, but I am Tom’s girl-friend” Rosa said, “You were till yesterday, now I am.” Rosa said she would have fought for him if she had to. She was not going to let go of him and she has not to this day.

Rosa loves to have sex and they are a sexually active couple. She says she could do it every day and not get tired of it ever. She educates all her children and grand-children about sexual matters in her frank and forthright way. Her grand-daughter impressed the visiting police officers at her school by her response to how she would defend herself in case she was attacked, ‘by grabbing his wee-wee and tugging with all her force and might’.

Rosa is a cancer survivor, but jut looking at her you would not know it. She was treated with radiation therapy, so she has a few marks on her skin, but she does not complain. As she says she is better off being alive. She has no qualms in talking about her death. She gives herself another twenty years at most and she wants to live them to the fullest. For her that means talking, eating, being active, working (in the yard, house-work etc.), traveling, visiting friends and family and just having a good time.

When she is taking off on one of her jaunts and I wish her a good time, her response is “Oh thanks. We sure will, we always have a good time!” Rosa’s outlook on her life and old age is in sharp contrast with the elders of my family and culture. Most of them feel depressed about getting old, living alone or even with their sons’ families, but fearing that they are a nuisance or not really wanted. They bicker and crib about the unfair treatment meted out to them and long for “the good old days” that turn golden in their nostalgia.

Rosa is a no-nonsense woman, but she has little insight what it might be like to be brought up in a different culture and place. Though she enjoys traveling, she has not left her country for her fear of flying. So her exposure is limited to her land and local culture. For example, when talking about women, who have to wear a Burkha she asserts “Oh, I would never do that.” She cannot conceptualize growing up in a culture where you might never have that choice. She has no inkling of how her thoughts, feelings and attitudes are shaped by her up-bringing. She takes all that for granted.

Rosa meets life with head-on with a chuckle and a punch (if necessary) on the ready. Her insistence on self-reliance and her love for life keep her going full steam ahead. She is a lesson to many of her younger friends, who are apt to lose themselves in front of computer and/or television screens. Her physical activity and social engagement keep her spirits high. And vice versa, her positive attitude to life keeps her engaged and active.

observation of attachment and bonding

This is the first son of my good friends S and C. He is called Al En. He has just completed his first trimester. All through her pregnancy S had shared her feelings of joy, anticipation, and anxiety etc. with me. The baby would make a big change in their lives that was for sure. S and C are very sociable people; S in particular is highly gregarious and connects with people in a warm and genuine way. Al seems to have ‘inherited’ this social ease.

Al is a big baby by Indian standards. He is healthy and likes to be with people. He is comfortable even when there are a number of people around him. He is also at ease when he is by himself and enjoys looking at the trees and the sky. He connects with nature easily and when I held him in my arms I felt connected with his natural essence. Those moments were full of stillness and a quiet joy that is hard to put in to words. The wonder in his eyes made me connect with what pure perception is like. His energy was pure being, nothing to do, nothing to prove, just be in the moment and enjoy.

His mother S has a special smile that is reserved for Al. There was a point of time when he was brought into the room by someone else and her face just lit up and I could feel her energy drop into her heart and the love was palpable too. When Al was transferred to her lap his face lit up in response, almost like a mirror. Their special connection and bond was observable to anyone witnessing that moment.

Al has a habit of kicking his right leg in response to music or any energetic activity on the part of the people around him. One of the things that mother and son do almost like a ritual is put on some favorite music of Al’s and dance to it. Al’s taste in music ranges from Bollywood numbers with great lyrics and Sufi lilts to “Bum Bum you gotta party!” The decibels can get pretty high when the mood is right. His mom dances with great gusto and joy all the while keeping eye contact with her son and Al maintains eye contact with her too as he jumps up and down in his ‘bouncer’ and shakes his leg to the rhythm. We can’t help but laugh and get taken in by the mood of celebration and joie-de-vivre. But those are phases of intense activity then he tires out and likes to take power naps for about 20 minutes, after which he is once again available for social interaction.

When any of us (the other loving adults and friends of the parents) try to do the same he does engage in the dance, but is not quite as animated as he is with his mother. Also his gaze shifts more often and now and then he takes a rest. Admittedly none of the others (including myself) is as energetic as his mother is. I was filled with admiration for her enthusiasm, since she had not a good night’s rest given the late night feedings. She does not seem to resent him in the least for keeping her up at odd hours. The only complaint she makes, but more as a joke to us is how she has to clean his poop first thing in the morning. She is often bemused by the quantity of the poop and remarks on that. When I did get an opportunity to observe them at the changing station, there was no sign of aversion or disgust, just a focus on getting the job done.

C the father’s energy is mellower as compared to the mother’s. So there is a nice balance. Al is not jumping up and down when with C, but happy to be lying around looking at the toys dangling on the jungle gym rims. His father likes to read to him and Al listens with interest. Of course he enjoys it more when the story is animated with hand moppets and toys. His father is also more apt to let him be, while his mother seeks to engage his attention more actively and be in a dialogue. His father is the one who bathes him and gives him an oil massage prior to the bath. He has his turn of cleaning and feeding him too.

His mother has a nonsensical or semi-sensical refrain that she says to him with much love and animation and it goes “Baboosh, hurry down the chimney for me!” and his expressions change and mirror his mothers most times when she says this. There is other love talk too but this refrain is reassuring as well as energizing for both of them. If the adults are engaged in some conversation and Al is not the centre of attention of his mother, his gaze follows his mother for a while and then falls on the designated caretaker adult who is by his side. If he can hear his mother’s voice in the room, every now and again his gaze seeks her out even when some aunt of his might be by his side and entertaining him and engaging with him. His mother too will come near Al in the flow of her conversation and say a reaffirming “Baboosh, hurry down the chimney for me!” to him take in his response and then continue her social interaction with the others. The safe haven provided by the mother is thus reinforced and Al stays secure and the mother can have some time with her friends without al getting whiny and demanding.

His mother’s responsiveness can also be observed when al is sleeping in his crib in another room, but the slightest whimper from there can send her running to him. This is also because when he wakes up he likes to have either his mom or dad around him. Otherwise he can get a little upset and starts to cry. If another adult picks him up he is okay for a while but needs the reassuring comfort of his parents. This is only when he wakes up or is otherwise not quite himself, as when his tummy was upset.

Al particularly enjoys the combination of sound and movement. His attention is taken in and held by visual movements and when the movements are accompanied by sounds his interest is keener.

There is a ritual game that Al and his father play. C throws a light piece of muslin cloth at him in mock frustration and says something like ‘Abbe chup’ meaning ‘oh shut up’. In response Al shows a slight startle response with enlarged eyes and a tiny gasp of breath and then cackles and giggles, delighting in the play. After a few rounds of this he expects the muslin to land but still widens his eyes with mock surprise and even feigns a gasp though a few seconds later than the original gasp of surprise. He is already play acting and mirroring mock responses to his father’s mock emotions.

I think Al is a very lucky kid, as he has loving and affectionate parents, who care for him, protect him and nurture him. They look after his needs and wants and make him feel welcome in this world, which is already a better place for having him.

my vision of the future

i wrote this paper as my personal myth for the paradigms of consciousness class. i fell in love with it even as i was writing it. so here i offer it to the world.

Mahavatar Babaji is a real person. With some effort in the right direction we can all achieve what he has achieved. My personal myth is about this time when we are all living together as enlightened human beings, having mastered all our senses, thoughts, feelings and biological processes including aging.

Mahavatar Babaji (the guru of the guru of the guru of Yoganadna Paramhansa, author of ‘Autobiography of a Yogi’) has the body of an 18-21 year young adult and has had it for several hundred years and will have it for as long as he chooses. Like him we too have the perfect body that we want, not because we reject imperfections or are afraid of death, dying, illness, handicaps or challenges etc. but because we have already learnt the lessons inherent in our identification with our bodies.

We have moved on to other dimensions of learning that involve a play with much finer, subtler energies, rather than the gross energy of the body. We play with the light that emanates from different sounds, we experiment with nuances of feelings, we explore empathy and understand the power of compassion, we unleash our creativity in multiple ways and our imagination knows no bounds.

We do not have to eat since we know how to get energy for ourselves, by linking our breath with any of the elements earth, water, fire, air, sky or nature. Sometimes we eat to tickle our taste buds, or because we have exercised our creativity in cooking. We can heal any part of our body simply by taking our breath and loving attention there and letting it to do its magic.

We do not need to wear clothes either, for the concepts of shame, guilt and modesty are things of the past. Innocence rules and like children we are completely natural in our nakedness. We can regulate the temperature of our bodies at will and so we can align it with nature and our environment. Since there is no resistance to what is, there is no suffering. We are one with nature and can rest in peace and twist and twirl in its turbulence like the bamboo trees.

We no longer need to have sex. We create our progeny by a process of conceptualization and visualization and holding that idea constant in immense love. We still play around with our and each others’ bodies as and when we like and stimulate, exercise, gambol and pleasure. But it is not because we are looking for some kind of a release from our tensions and pressures. We can hold any kind of energy (sexual, erotic, neurotic, mystic) in our bodies for any length of time with complete ease and comfort.

We live in small or large groups. Children are brought up communally. The biological/conceptual (?) mother is the primary care-taker and the father too. But there is a support group of foster parents, who are on call whenever the mother/father needs a break or is not feeling at her/his nurturing best. The child is kept away from any emotional upset that the parents may be going through like working out their identification with certain old emotional patterns and s/he is taken into a more positive environment.

There is little work in the old-fashioned sense. We no longer need to build, construct, produce goods, sell, market, trade advertise etc. our work is to make our minds finer, sharper, brighter and our hearts warmer, lighter and more loving and accepting. We train in telepathy, teleporting, understanding the essential properties of herbs, plants, trees, insects and animals, in communing with them and seeing the interconnections, not just as concepts but developing our vision to see subtler energies and the bands of light (not unlike laser beams) that are the substance of the interconnections.

We see the colors of each others’ auras, and we can read each others’ emotional states as plain as day. So lies, subterfuge, deceit and the previously called mind-games have no effect at all. Transparency of emotional interaction is as matter-of-fact as the nakedness of our bodies. There is nothing to hide and nobody to hide it from, because we fear no one. Our inter-connectedness is such an established norm, a given fact that aggression or violence is not even an option.

Since all our fears, insecurities, inhibitions and issues have been wiped clean we live in proximity of wild animals without feeling any need to protect ourselves. They wander in and out of our communities without bothering to attack us since we are not aggressive with them. They sense our loving vibes and come now and then to play and to give/get nurturance.

We can read each other’s thoughts and do so only when invited or asked for assistance as with fulfilling a dream project. We lend our thought energy to theirs to crystallize the dream and bring it to manifestation. We can travel great distances in the blink of an eye; teleportation is no big deal, since we know that gross matter comes from the light of consciousness. We have mastered consciousness to the extent that we can play around with (and in) time and space. The matrix is shattered and created again anew in multiple ways to help resolve the issues of a being here or an entity there.

We are no longer divided and split up inside. We listen into the heart of things and follow the course dictated by the heart. There is no pressure within or without. All is ease, spontaneity and flow. All is energy and we can traverse its length and breadth with confident strides. Spirit guides are everywhere, gently nudging us in the right direction when the need arises.

Interpersonal relationships are based on respect, trust, mutual regard, love and affection. Every one is valued, so no one ever feels slighted or hurt. We communicate from the heart and express our innermost feelings, with the conviction that we will be heard and understood. We are often applauded for our talents, skills and our very being. Our personal essence flourishes, we climb to greater heights, our common race thrives, as we celebrate community and treasure each other.

This is the time when the great disaster has come and gone. The devastation wrecked has taught us indelibly the mistakes we made in terms of greed, selfishness, pride, lethargy etc. Having stood at the brink of extinction we have taken the leap of faith and surrendered to the call of the spirit. This has entailed certain choices - to uphold the values of love, sisterhood, community, mutual concern etc. and has put us on this path and brought us to this rung of evolution.

Now we reside in suchness, totally aware and completely cognizant of any passing thoughts, feelings, sensations and its hold on our awareness. Our identification with our mental, emotional, states is a fleeting memory. Our consciousness can manifest our thoughts into actuality with a few exercises of deliberate intent. Hence we are very careful what we wish for. We get signals in our bodies about the responses of the others around us and deliberate upon those, prior to taking action and putting into effect the process of manifestation.

Since our goals are clear we do not fritter any of our resources in meaningless activities. The goal is to move to the next rung of evolutionary ladder and to be light – to transcend matter completely and to be pure energy. We remain conscious of this goal as we play with the matter on our hands – of/in our hands. And we do it with love, in love for that is all that binds us to matter - our love for it. We know it is only a matter of time before we let go of this attachment too; but until then we revel in our perfect bodies that house enlightened minds, loving hearts and compassionate souls.

back to school

not school as in uniforms and satchels, but school as in university, yeah these americans are crazy. you don't pass out of school or college, but you pass out when you have one too many drinks or get dead tired. know about clean dirt? an oxymoron? not quite. dirt refers to dry mud, soil, earth...yaane ke mitti. so now you know what clean dirt is!

anyhow not to get side-tracked i was writing about being back at school. a master's program in counseling psychology. i have a master's already in clinical psychology but since that is from india it does not count for much in this narcissistic zenophobic country. to get a license to practice as a psychotherapist i will need to clear the marraige and family therapy licensure requirements, part of which include so many hours at school, so many hours of individual psychotherapy, and so many hours of supervised psychotherapy with clients. i completely agree with the latter two requirements so that is good. and i am on the path so great!


life has become more interesting and time passes quickly, with classes to attend, reading to do, assignments to complete, papers to write and so on. the best part is having a clear purpose.
sharing of oneself, talking about feelings and private thoughts and generally opening up to others is not always comfortable but is nevertheless enjoyable on the whole.

i found a beautiful poem on psychotherapy that i shall share here

The Invitation
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your sorrow.
If you have been opened by life's betrayals
or if you have become shriveled and closed from the fear of future pain!
I want to know if you can sit with pain; mine or your own,
without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own.
If you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful, realistic,
or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the "story" you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself.
If you can bare the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithful and, therefore, be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not present everyday.
And, if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure; yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes"!
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where, what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer
i found this at http://www.joanfenoldmft.com/poetry.html

transpersonal translation of sufi song arziyan

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhImIrLacV0

i love this sufi song sooo..this is the arziyan or maulla maulla mere maulla song from the film delhi 6. director - rakeysh omprakash mehra, music - rehman, lyrics - prasoon joshi, singers - javed ali and kailash kher.

i think it is truly profound. therefore posting a translation (for non-hindi speaking visitors)

with a transpersonal interpretation for all...

Arziyan saari main
Chehre pe likh ke laya hoon
All my pleas, yearnings I bring to you written large on my face
Tum se kya mangu main
Tum khud hi samajh lo
What can I ask from You, You (who know every thing) can surely understand /know better
Ya Maula, maula, maula mere maula
Oh Lord, my lord…
Mere maula..maula…Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Dararen, dararen hain maathe pe Maula
Creases and fissures line my forehead, (so many worries, but also the fate is writ on the forehead) Lord
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Repair my fate, O Lord
Mere Maula
Tere darr pe jhuka hoon, mita hoon, bana hoon
At your doorstep do I bow, obliterate myself, and emerge again anew
(I surrender to You, in this surrender does my past die, from this surrender do I emerge anew)
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula

Jo bhi tere darr aaya, jhukne jo sar aaya
Whoever came to Your door to bow their heads in surrender to You
Mastiyan piye sabko jhoomta nazar aaya
Was seen by everyone to be in a trance, dancing with happiness,
Pyaas leke aaya tha, dariya woh bhar laya
He came to You with a thirst, went back home (satiated) with a river
Noor ki baarish mein bheegta sa tarr aaya
Drenched in showers of light and joy, he transcended
Noor ki baarish mein bheegta sa tarr aaya
Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Dararen, dararen hain maathe pe Maula
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Mere maula
(jo bhi tere..) 2

Ho….ek khushbu aati thi
A fragrance emanated from somewhere
Ek khusbhu aati thi
Main bhatakta jaata tha
I wandered lost in its search
Reshmi si maya thi
It was a beautiful epiphany of illusions
Aur main takta jaata tha
And I gaped in astonished wonder
Jab teri gali aaya
Sach tabhi nazar aaya
It was only when I came upon Your path, that the truth dawned upon me
Jab teri gali aaya
Sach tabhi nazar aaya
Mujhme hi woh khusbu thi
Jisse tune milvaya
It was within me that the fragrance resided, to which You had introduced me
Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Dararen, dararen hain maathe pe Maula
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Mere maula

Toot ke bhikharna mujhko zaroor aata
I certainly know how to break into pieces and scatter
Parna ibadat wala shahur aata hai
But I do not know how to pray to You in the correct manner
Sajde mein rehne do, ab kahin na jaaunga
Let me remain prostrate before You, I will not go anywhere now
Sajde mein rehne do, ab kahin na jaaunga
Ab jo tune thukraya toh savar na paaunga
If You reject me now, I will not be able to recover
Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Dararen, dararen hain maathe pe Maula
Murammath muqaddar ki kar do maula
Mere maula

Sar uthake maine toh kitni khwaishen ki thi
I had dared to desire so many things
Kitne khwab dekhe the, kitni koshishen ki thi
I dreamt innumerable dreams and made so many efforts and strivings
Jab tu roobaroo aaya
Jab tu roobaroo aaya, nazren na mila paaya
But when I communed with you, I could not look in the eyes
Sar jhukake ek pal…hooo
Sar jhukake ek pal mein maine kya nahi paaya
With my head bowed (in surrender to You) in that very moment what have I not found (I received everything and more…)
Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula mere maula,Maula maula maula maula,Maula maula maula maula,
Mere maula..mere maula….
Mora piya ghar aaya, mora piya ghar aaya..
My Beloved has finally returned home (I have finally come home to my Lord, to my essential nature… )

अर्जियां सारी मैं
चेहरे पे लिख के लाया हूँ

तुम से क्या मांगु मैं
तुम ख़ुद ही समझ लो
या मौला, मौला, मौला मेरे मौला

मेरे मौला..मौला…मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
दरारें, दरारें हैं माथे पे मौला

मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मेरे मौला
तेरे दर पे झुका हूँ, मिटा हूँ, बना हूँ
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
जो भी तेरे दर आया, झुकने जो सर आया
मस्तियाँ पिए सबको झूमता नज़र आया

प्यास लेके आया था, दरिया वोह घर लया

नूर की बारिश में भीगता सा तरर आया

नूर की बारिश में भीगता सा तरर आया
मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला, मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
दरारें, दरारें हैं माथे पे मौला
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मेरे मौला
(जो भी तेरे..) २

हो….एक खुशबु आती ठी

एक खुस्भु आती थी
मैं भटकता जाता था

रेशमी सी माया थी
और मैं ताकता जाता था
जब तेरी गली आया
सच तभी नज़र आया
जब तेरी गली आया
सच तभी नज़र आया
मुझमे ही वोह खुसबू थी
जिससे तुने मिलवाया
मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
दरारें, दरारें हैं माथे पे मौला
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मेरे मौला

टूट के बीइखारना मुझको ज़रूर आता
पर न इबादत वाला शहर आता है
सजदे में रहने दो, अब कहीं न जाऊँगा
सजदे में रहने दो, अब कहीं न जाऊँगा
अब जो तुने ठुकराया तोह सवार न पाऊंगा

मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
दरारें, दरारें हैं माथे पे मौला
मुरम्मत मुक़द्दर की कर दो मौला
मेरे मौला

सर उठाके मैंने तोह कितनी ख्वैशें की थी

कितने ख्वाब देखे थे, कितनी कोशिशें की थी
जब तू रूबरू आया
जब तू रूबरू आया, नज़रें न मिला पाया
सर झुकाके एक पल…होऊ
सर झुकाके एक पल में मैंने क्या नही पाया
मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला,मौला मौला मौला मेरे मौला, मौला मौला मौला मौला,मौला मौला मौला मौला,
मेरे मौला..मेरे मौला….
मोरा पिया घर आया, मोरा पिया घर आया॥

with grateful thanks to http://opalodyssey.wordpress.com/2009/02/25/maulamagic1/

http://arrahman.asia/index.php?action=printpage;topic=3237.0

http://jannah.org/blog/2009/02/18/a-r-rahman-and-arziyan-marammat-muqaddar-ki-kar-do-maula-mere-maula/

"mirror, mirror on the wall; who is the maddest of us all?"

i saw a movie today that i loved deeply. it has its heart in the right place, which is delhi -6. why 6? because that is the pincode of old delhi. delhi 6 with its labyrinthine streets and alleys, cycle rikshaws, swirling crowds, parathans and sweets, muhallas and the muhallewalas, the warm people that can make you their own, if you let them. everyone is family until suddenly, chimerically it breaks apart. delhi 6 - the film offers a hard look at these people, at us.

i was connected to delhi 6 through my ex-husband, a man who later introduced me as his friend, never as the ex-wife and that too is part and parcel of the ways of delhi -6. no matter. co-incidentally his current wife also stars in the film. be that as it may, the essence of delhi -6 lingers on in me and this film helps revive it. for that i am grateful to soul-brother rakeysh omprakash mehra. i like this man more and more...

he gave us 'rang de basanti' and that was a tough act to follow. but he triumphs with delhi -6. fine tuned performances by the entire ensemble, abhishek too is growing on me, sonam is lovely and pitch-perfect, as are waheeda, om puri, vijay raj, rishi kapoor, supriya pathak, sheeba, atul kulkarni, divya dutta, deepak dobriyal, etc. etc.

the film works on many layers and levels, ram leela is the myth on stage, the kala bunder (black monkey) is the allegory you follow on television through the film you are watching on-screen.
the summary of the plot (borrowed from wikipedia) is as follows :-

The film opens with the ailing grandmother Annapurna at the office of a cardiac surgeon in New York. The surgeon indicates that Annapurna suffers from heart blockage and may not have long to live. Annapurna insists on returning to Delhi, her hometown, where she intends to die in peace. Though her son and daughter-in-law object vehemently, her American-born grandson Roshan (who has a special bond with his grandmother) agrees to bring her back.
Annapurna is received with pomp and ceremony when she returns to her home in old delhi. Roshan is initially stunned by the mad rush of various neighbors: Ali Baig the renaissance man, feuding brothers Madangopal and Jaigopal, their wives and families, Mamdu the halwai, Gobar the simpleton, Sethji and many others. However, Roshan eventually warms to the place and wholeheartedly embraces the sense of community in it. He accompanies his grandmother to the Ramleelas, hangs out at Mamdu's sweet stall, plays with the children, and gradually becomes steeped in the culture of the place.
Roshan is also slowly exposed to some sobering realities. When Annapurna faints (due to fluctuating blood sugar levels) and they scramble to get her to a hospital, he finds the roads choked by traffic because of an impromptu ceremony around a cow in labor; he is further surprised when his grandmother, despite her stupor, stumbles forth to seek the blessings of a sacred cow; and he is astounded when the local police seem to encourage the practice. Roshan begins to understand the feuds and social issues in the community. Madangopal's sister Rama is unwed (at an age when spinsterhood is a significant social no-no) and Jaigopal's electrical business is going nowhere. The lecherous old local money lender Lala Bhairam is married to a young girl who, in turn, is having an affair with a young photo-studio hand Suresh. Suresh is a double timer who is also pursuing Madangopal's daughter Bittu. Bittu secretly wants out of the stuck-in-time Old Delhi; she secretly prepares to audition for a popular reality show indian idol in the hope that she will win her way to Mumbai. Roshan comes to appreciate Ali Baig's cosmopolitan tastes and is surprised to learn that Ali Baig fancied his mother many years ago, and has since never married. And Roshan comes to empathize with the lower-caste trash collector girl Jalebi who must endure untouchability at social functions except for when some of the brutish locals seek company. Roshan also crosses paths with the loutish inspector Ranvijay who blithely stretches his authorities to manhandle the locals, and becomes acquainted with the local assemblywoman who displays political power at every opportunity.
In the meantime, the news media is all abuzz with tales of a fearsome terror known only as the "Kala bandar (Black Monkey)". This miscreant (never shown clearly in the film) attacks people, steals various articles and has also caused the death of a few innocent people. (These deaths are mostly accidental, as in the example of a pregnant housewife who was supposedly startled by a silhouette and fell down a flight of stairs or the example of an unfortunate man who was briefly zapped by a live electric wire.) Nonetheless, the local news picks up on every move by the kala bandar and loudly blares about all his exploits. Jaigopal, the self-proclaimed electronics genius, theorizes that the kala bandar likely has an electrical circuit (to zap his victims) and may be electrocuted by water; this rumor is quickly propagated through the locality.
The film takes several turns. After some initial friction, Roshan and Bittu warm to each other. Roshan intervenes when Bittu is about to receive a prospective suitor arranged by Madangopal. He echoes Bittu's desire to pursue other dreams; this drives the suitor away and brings Madangopal's wrath upon him. He gradually begins to fall in love with Bittu, but is confused when Bittu expresses her affections for Suresh (she believes he will support her dreams). Around this time, the kala bandar attacks Old Delhi. The simple-minded locals bring in a tantrik Shani baba to exorcize the demonic influence of the kala bandar. After an extended havan ceremony, the tantrik baba indicates that the local mosque, built over the ruins of a temple that was demolished for the purpose, is the provocation for the evil soul of the kala bandar. This promptly stokes animosity in the otherwise harmonious Hindu-Muslim community. After the initial peaceful demonstrations (by rallies and angry meetings), various mobs go on rampage and tear up some of the local streets. Roshan attempts to make peace, but is rebuffed because of his mixed religious parentage. The locals ultimately settle on the fact that the kala bandar is hiding out in the sooni galli (a dark lane known to harbor evil presences) and must be destroyed. They command the simpleton Gobar to fetch a lock of hair from the evil enemy so that the tantrik can burn it and complete the exorcism.
Roshan becomes aware of Bittu's plan to elope with Suresh, and that Suresh is a low-life two timer. He dons a monkey mask and monkey outfit and stealthily follows Bittu by leaping across the rooftops. In the meantime Gobar ventures into the sooni galli where Jalebi gives him a lock of her hair so he may return in triumph and bring peace to the community. At that moment, Roshan (in his monkey outfit) intercedes in Bittu and Suresh's rendezvous and causes the cowardly Suresh to flee. Bittu raises a loud alarm before Roshan unmasks himself, whereupon the angry locals storm the place. But not before Roshan has had a chance to avow his love for Bittu and she has reciprocated.
Believing Roshan to be the kala bandar, the angry mob beat him to within an inch of his life and Mamdu shoots him. Then, Gobar comes up with a startling deduction about the reality of the kala bandar. The revelation stops the violence. Roshan has a near death expereince, meeting his grandpop, who wants to ask forgiveness of his muslim daughter-in-law. Roshan comes back to quote Zuak, "Kaun jaaye zauk yeh delhi ki galliyan chhod kar". The film ends on a happy note with peace and joy restored to the community of Old Delhi.

that is on the straight forward level. as a social commentary :-
the monkey-man is a real phenomenon that occurred 2-3 years ago. the tv footage could just as well have been taken from the coverage of that event. the rumor mongering and the media adding to the frenzy is as rampant as the flourishing of superstition. the mandir-masjid issue that sparked many a riot among the hindus and muslims is, well, dare i say, history? the roof-top romance is fortunately an on-going occurance. the coming home to die in one's own coutnry is a common enough sentiment, though i do not know of any indian families that speak so openly of death and dying and prepare for it too. perhaps it is rakesh's homage to an iraniam film 'mother' and the man with the mirror to a makhmalbaf film.

now the man with the mirror is the element that raises the film from good to great. i would have prefered the call to recognising oneself as the divine or as the black monkey to have been more subtle, but given that this is a hindi commercial film it is fairly well done. not only is the mirror strategically placed on the wish-fulfilling tree at the end, but the entire film is that mirror. the mirror that invites us to look at how we create factions, riots, walls, as well as connections, relations and love. but like roshan's sermon in the film or gobar's; advice is one that the fools do not take ...

the flavour of delhi -6 is in the way the people speak -. at the risk of diluting if not losing it in translation- "dogs eat to satiate hunger, humans to create bonds""you won't be allowed to get an entry if you don't have this" "i could go to bombay anytime i am just allowing others to get a chance"it is in the 'the urdu peotry of Zauk', the mukesh songs on radio, the rivalry in singing bhajans at the 'jagran', the kite-flying, the ram-leela, the pigeon-rearing, but most of all the typical characters that populate the old city.

the bribe-taking, slap-happy cop, the corner shop-keeper-owner , the squabbling brothers, the spinster sister, the rich old lusty man married to a young woman, who cheats on him, the cassanova photographer, the middle-class young woman who escapes her father's plans of matrimony for her by chasing dreams of making it on a talent hunt tv reality show, the political figure riding on communal tension, the idiot who is smarter than all the rest, the low-caste woman with the sharp tongue.... the only not so believable aspect is how quickly she gets integrated into mainstream society...letting that be

i take my hat off to delhi-6 and its maker even more for the inner conflict that re-iterates in his two films. the belief in surrender and fate and its slide into inaction and apathy vs. belief as faith. this is a spiritual query that confronts every thinking seeker and every feeling intelligent being. this is the central issue at the heart of the film. not so much whether NRIs ought (or ought not) to be returning to india once again. although delhi 6 reverbates with the issues of belonging and feeling disconnected or alienated, the question of faith is at the core regardless of the forms it may take.

the call is to see the divinity in oneself and that cannot come about unless and until we are also willing to recognise the mad monkey that resides within us whenever it springs up and takes control of our re-actions. but i am sermonising again and this message is better delivered through the songs in the film. they not only capture the flavours of old delhi but bring out the essence of faith. a. r. rehman and prasoon joshi (lyrics) make a potent combination indeed. my favuorites are 'massakali', 'delhi-6', 'genda phool', and the classical 'bhor bhaye' but most of all 'arziyan' or 'maulah mere maulah'

i urge all and sundry to see the film and listen to its music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3LKicPLYn0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45M1VXqFdRA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdUcxdmjw04