राजमा अब वैसा स्वाद नहीं लाता,
भूख है—पर मन कुछ खा नहीं पाता।
सब कुछ रखा है यथावत यहाँ,
बस आप नहीं… और कुछ भी कहाँ।
भरवा टमाटर—हथेली की छाप,
लौकी की दाल—सेहत की बात।
बथुए का रायता—हँसी-सा घुला,
हर निवाले में अपनापन मिला।
काका भैया की आधी प्याली,
जिसमें सुकून उतरती थी गहरी काली।
पैसों का रखतीं पूरा हिसाब,
पर हर कोने में छोड़ जातीं प्यार का उधार।
अब ये रसोई एक सूना मंदिर है,
मसाले हैं—पर सुगंध नहीं दरकिनार।
डायरी की पंक्तियाँ दाल में घुलतीं,
जैसे कोई प्रार्थना धीमे से खुलती।
कढ़ी —जो पलाश को न भायी,
अब भी बर्तनों में आपकी छवि समायी।
जब तक थीं—हर स्वाद था घर जैसा,
अब घर… बस एक वीरान हवेली सा।
पैसा जग का द्रव प्रवाह है,
चक्रों का गतिशील राह है।
जहाँ भी आता, कम्पन लाता,
मन का संतुलन डगमगाता।
स्थिर बिंदु से हटना होता,
तब ही कुछ पाने का रथ धोता।
जब रोगी हो कोई प्रिय प्राणी,
तब मूल्य नहीं—बने बलिदानी।
ख़र्च लगे हो जैसे साधना,
या विधि की कोई कठिन परीक्षा।
कभी ये धन एक यत्न बन जाता,
कभी यह विकल ज्वार सा आता।
यह मुद्रा नहीं, यह कर्म का बीज,
अदृश्य हाथ की सौपी हुई चीज़।
इससे मिलता अवसर जीवन,
दिव्यता का छोटा साधन।
यह ऊर्जा है, गति की कारा—
इसको साधो, यही तुम्हारा।
सिर्फ उपयोग न दृष्टि बनाओ,
अर्थ में अर्थ का मूल लगाओ।
इस क्षण में क्या है सार तुम्हारा?
क्या उसमें है स्वर तुम्हारा?
जहाँ हृदय की गूंज बसी हो,
उर्जा वहीं समर्पित हो।
जो दिखता है, वह केवल माया,
भीतर की सत्ता है सच्चा पाया।
चालक हाथ में खेल रचाया,
नियति ने दृश्य-भ्रम फैलाया।
जो असमय आया, अधूरा लगे,
शायद वही दिव्य संकेत जगे।
क्या है जो इस उम्र में भाये?
पाँच से पंद्रह – खिलौने पराए,
अपने बेजान, उसके लुभाऐं।
पंद्रह से पच्चीस – गाड़ियों की चाह,
अपनी खटारा, उनकी कार वाह!
पच्चीस से पैंतीस – पराई बाहें,
अपनी अधूरी, दूसरी ललचाएं।
पैंतीस से पैंतालीस – बाप पराया,
अपना पुराना, उनका सरमाया।
पैंतालीस से पिचहत्तर – बेटा दूजा,
अपना बुद्धू, उनका सूरज।
पिचहत्तर से पचासी – ज़िंदगी जो बीती,
अपनी ठहरती, उनकी चलती रहती।
पचासी के बाद – अब मौत की बारी,
काश उस जैसी आसान हो हमारी।
तकता रहा मैं गैरों को उम्रभर,
ख़ुद में पूर्णता, ना आयी नज़र ।
Devi will speak. I just have to listen. I just have to be a straight antenna, picking up the signal. The ink in my hands is not mine. The words know where they want to go. This anger, this fire—I've tamed it before. I'll tame it again. I am not stuck, I am in motion. And when I write, I am free.
गणपति के चरणों में छोटा सा चूहा,
जानता औक़ात, न शोर करता हूँ।
रहता सतह पे शांत और सौम्य,
पानी के नीचे फौलाद बनता हूँ।
ज्ञान भरे मोतीचूर मैं चबाता,
आज बंद कर आँख, क़लम घिसता हूँ।
जो शिखर कल ख़ौफ़नाक सा था,
आज टुकड़े उसके मेरी कहानी में चमकते हैं।
कभी आग की जलन से डर लगता था,
आज अंगारों की भाप से मन को सेकता हूँ।
जिस कहानी को कल लिख न सका था,
चल, आज उसको जी के देखता हूँ।
"Doesn't matter what lies the world has made you believe, What does is the lies you have told yourself." - Someone must have said some time. This one's for you dear brother -
Mrs Sarita Bansal's legacy - A Strategic Framework
A Legacy Carved in Compassion, Resilience, and Purpose
"Sirf Ek Ped Nahi Hoga Aapke Naam" – A Living Memorial
"Rebirth Through Recovery" – A Beacon for the Struggling and the Lost
"Every Seed of Learning and Art Grows into a Forest of Change"
This resolve is made public for a reason. It will be followed with a strategic action plan with calls for support.
Imagine yourself as a surfer riding the cosmic waves, guided by Shiva’s eternal dance. The ocean represents life’s unpredictable flow—sometimes calm, sometimes turbulent. You’re not here to conquer the waves but to flow with them, using Shiva’s wisdom to navigate.
Balance Play with Purpose: Approach life’s rassi (rope) moments with the playfulness of a surfer and the focus of a climber. These “leaving points” are sacred—they teach you about yourself and the universe.
Micro-Milestones: Each wave you ride is a step forward. In the beginning, you’ll need to paddle harder (frequent checkpoints), but as your rhythm develops, let the ocean carry you. Taper your efforts to flow with ease.
Waves are finite; they rise and crash. Learn to plan for these “hard stops.” Whether it’s a limited supply or a sudden shift, use these moments to sharpen your awareness. They’re not obstacles—they’re opportunities to pivot.
Self-Judgment: Don’t let a rough wave bruise your self-image. Shiva’s dance teaches us that destruction is part of creation.
Guilt and Victimhood: Steer clear of sinking into blame. You’re a surfer, not a shipwreck.
Fear: Acknowledge the part of you that dreads the “part x.” It’s not about fighting the wave but trusting your ability to ride through it.
Channel Setbacks: Use the ocean’s push to surf higher. Let every challenge fuel your resolve.
Nurture the Zen Big ‘I’: Connect with the part of you that’s calm, centered, and untouchable by external chaos.
Start Slow, Stay Steady: Don’t let the initial rush make you overcommit. Build your journey wave by wave.
Celebrate Wins: Take a moment to sit on your surfboard, look at the horizon, and smile. Write gratitude journals for the victories—small or big.
Meaning Over Momentum: Use your energy for purposeful tasks that truly matter. Don’t let guilt steer your ship into overwork.
Document the highs and lows of your Shiva Surfing journey:
The tempting dance of the waves pulling you in.
The patience required to paddle through turbulence.
The calm after the storm as you sit atop the board, grateful for the ride.
Living on my luxury Yacht: See yourself and your family on a serene yacht, effortlessly gliding over the waves. You’re not struggling to keep the boat afloat—you’re simply adjusting the sails, riding the winds, and soaking in the sun. This is your natural state: calm, centered, and free.
When challenges arise, remember: You’re not here to dominate the ocean—you’re here to dance with it. Shiva’s dance and the Zen state are your guides. Every wave is an invitation to grow, and every stumble is a chance to rise higher.
If the universe gives you what you want, it’s seducing you, tempting you into a game where failure is almost certain. It spoils you, roots for you to fall, to hit the ground hard so that you can be picked up again. Not for cruelty, but for the lessons you’ve forgotten along the way.
But when it gives you what you need, it cradles you gently, swaddling you in a comfort you didn’t even know you sought. In the chaos of the world, it offers a quiet reprieve, a reminder that life isn’t a game worth attaching your identity to. This comfort, this stillness—it isn’t a trick or a trap. It is a reward.
Yet, in this exchange of wants and needs, we humans excrete entropy. In our endless quest for order, for artificial perfection, we inject an unnatural symmetry into the universe’s perfectly imperfect design. The universe, in its natural state, exists beyond space and time. It thrives in the collision of black holes, in the union of disparate energies, in the loops that define not just quantum gravity but life itself.
Humans are, by nature, restless beings. We engage with the universe, not always harmoniously, but often in resistance—breaking its natural flows to build our own. We carve out symmetry where none is required, impose patterns on a cosmos that thrives in its own chaotic balance.
The universe, though, is patient. It watches as we struggle to make sense of it, as we create and destroy. It sees us as we loop through desires, through lessons, through the endless cycles of want and need.
Perhaps that’s the lesson the universe keeps teaching: that life isn’t a straight line but a loop. Every fall, every mistake, every collision is part of that loop, drawing us closer to understanding. Understanding that perfection isn’t the elimination of chaos but the acceptance of it.
Think of two black holes converging—an act of incomprehensible chaos, yet one that births a perfect union of energies. Or the strange elegance of loop quantum gravity, which whispers that even empty space is not empty at all but composed of indivisible boxes, loops within loops.
Life mirrors this. It’s not a journey from beginning to end but a series of loops—cycles of love and loss, of learning and forgetting, of seeking and finding. We move through them, sometimes gracefully, sometimes with resistance. But each loop is a chance to align ourselves with the natural rhythm of the universe, to shed the entropy we create and find balance within its chaotic perfection.
The next time the universe cradles you, offering you what you truly need rather than what you thought you wanted, let it. Let it remind you that life isn’t about conquering the chaos but living within it. Let it show you that every loop, every cycle, is part of a greater design.
For in the loops of life, the entropy we excrete, and the chaos we navigate, there is a lesson. A reminder that the universe doesn’t play games—it offers gifts. Gifts of growth, of balance, of understanding. And maybe, just maybe, the greatest gift of all is realizing that the loop itself is enough.
Suppose you were to have a child, what would you tell her? Would you whisper to her that anything is possible, that dreams and magic can be real? Or would you caution her to tread carefully, to prepare for compromises, to understand the boundaries of what might be possible and what might not?
The truth is, parenting doesn’t begin when you hold a life in your hands. It begins with the child within. The one who still believes, still dreams, and still aches. That child matters. Your body matters. Your family, your emotions, the stories and songs—they all matter. Life itself matters.
Life matters. So don’t give up just because it feels tough now. This moment is not forever, and what seems insurmountable today will shrink to its true size when you face it. Ocean though it may seem, it’s just a puddle. And yes, you’re the only one who can pull yourself out of it.
As for me, it's time to show the universe that these things matter to me—not just in words but in choices. Choices that align with what I claim to believe. Choices that empower rather than weaken me. Stop sending out conflicting signals, pretending to be someone small, miserable, or helpless. That’s not me.
I have been unnecessarily squeezing yourself into a role of self-pity, forcing myself to live smaller than I am. Why? It’s time to be me—the authentic, unapologetic me.
It's time to enjoy life as it comes: the urges, the deprivations, the freedom, the pain. Let it cleanse me. Feel the pulse of my heart as it dances to the emotional weather of the world around me. Savor every storm, every sunrise, every quiet night. And while I live to do all this, keep writing.
So I need to begin again, with a clean slate. Forgive—not to forget but to free yourself from the chains of the past. Only unconditional forgiveness can make room for the magic I'll need to unleash. Only then can I show my child—the one within and the one in my lap —how a magician works.
I need to take responsibility. Parent the child within and express the man I am meant to be. Boldness isn’t always about taking action. Sometimes it’s about letting my feelings sink into my being, dissolving and reshaping me. And then, when the moment comes, expressing them. This life, this moment, even this struggle—it’s a sign. A reminder that I am meant to take charge of my house, my family, my self.
I would like to end with a didactic whisper to Zen (the child I am holding in my lap) - Best of luck, mon ami. Luck favors the bold, and boldness is a kind of surrender, a willingness to live fully. Be ready to feel, to forgive, and to create. And never forget: You are enough.
Life is a tightrope, and to live is to move. Every step is a moment of balance, a silent game played breath by breath. Yet balance isn’t found in a single step—it’s woven through time. You may wobble, falter, even lean toward the edge—but keep moving.
Step by step, forward is enough. There will be many milestones - each with its unique sense of completion. You keep moving forward yet it feels like you are moving in circles. Keep moving ahead over the knots that lie in front and you will see the circles will get bigger and bigger. As you move, your feet learn the rhythm. Once heavy with doubt, they grow light with grace. And one day, you’ll find yourself not just walking, but dancing—steady and free—on this tightrope of life.
1.
मैं चाहता कहना,
पर कह नहीं पा रहा हूँ -
ये क्या है मुझमें,
जिसे समझ नहीं पा रहा हूँ?
2.
क्या बात ये समझने की है भी,
या सिर्फ देखने बस की -
है भाव क्या मैं देखने जिसे की,
हिम्मत जुटा नहीं पा रहा हूँ?
3.
दोस्तों की महफ़िल में इस,
लाँघकर सीमाओं को डर की -
शब्दों से खोद के मैं मन की माटी,
संभावनाओं के बीज बोता जा रहा हूँ ...
4.
डूब कर अब शब्दों के जंगल में,
बुनकर झरुए के गुलदस्ते,
नक्शे जो फेंक दिए मरोड़ के,
बिन सोचे अब मैं चला जा रहा हूं...
September has Ended, I am still trying to wake myself up. What a year it has been so far!
I saw death and birth. Death of my mom's body, birth of my son's. Death of my professional ego, birth of an inner balance. It was the year where new relationships were born and old ones died their cruel death. The year when I had to let the society die for me. I had to witness the birth of a new understanding that only and only a select few are needed for me to live at my fullest.
I have written much about the pregnancy of existence. I feel like I have entered my labor and a new me is getting born. He will come through me but only when the old me dies. The mother has to die while she births to her child.
Death although painful, has its own beauty. It births new possibilities. That's what 2024 is about.
Everything about her is pious. She is a much higher soul, who had taken this life to nurture and pull us up in our respective journeys. Her life and its roles were not for the faint-hearted. Her decisions seem to be guided by a force beyond self-serving logic.
She lived her intense life as if it was an offering to
someone divine. She suffered a lot, laughed a lot, withstood a lot and still,
gave a lot. Her sufferings seemed enough to be able to cut many lifetimes of
accumulated karmas. She never asked for anything, neither from people nor from
life. Just kept giving. She still gives
and guides.
As for me, she brought me into this world physically. She
also shaped me spiritually. From reading the Bhagwad
Geeta to me as an embryo to the Art Excel course in childhood, the DSN
and Vipassana in the 20s and Isha Yoga later on. She was the silent nudge
behind all my spiritual explorations. My spiritual being was nurtured by her
loving hands. She always knew when I was having a difficult time - my teenage
turpitude or even decades later, my cluelessness before Zen. Her few words
were enough to give me the zeal to move on.
She was the one who, with her limited freedom and resources,
touched everyone's life lovingly. A lifelong learner, She loved maths and was a
self-taught creative content creator. Chatting away with her bountiful supply
of sisters, brothers, friends and everyone in between. She was the first to
shower their families with birthday and anniversary calls. She kept her sweet
sisters, blissful family, Devashish family, Banasthali friends and innumerable
other clans together with her CGI collages and videos. Sunshine or clouds,
she did this every-day. Till the cancer entered her brain again.
The disease did its best to be dreadful. Yet she hunted the
cracks in its dread to give life her broad-nosed smile. The cancer melted the
strong emotional walls she had built inside of her. One of those days when I was trying
hard to lift myself up, Muskaan came and spoke to me about her. How she
spoke about her made me realise how much I have missed about my mother's life. In
the last 2 decades, I have been busy with my own worldly pursuits and whenever
I met her, it was brief and about me. She had sewed her own web of
relationships which she nurtured and tended to. Muskan showed me that. She was
her first grandkid. And to protecting her sanity, she took her out shopping
when the emotional weather was to traumatic for a child. When I had
secretly and shamefully lost hope, Muskan used to say that "Dekhna,
Maa will come out of it, she has fought it before successfully, that too
twice"
After the imli chuski
episode, when she chose to delay her departure, a lot of magic was
happening around her every single day. She spoke extensively about her
childhood and was frank and unafraid even around Papa. Often taking the liberty
to joke around and cutting people short jokingly. Her last year was more to
give us, her Lucknow family time to accept the ultimate reality. In the last
one year of her difficult life, she closed the emotional loops of her key
relationships. Her magic penetrated the toughest of walls. I still remember
papa wearing sherwani on the last anniversary they celebrated together. He
became more emotive, reminding her that he used to call her Sweetu while
talking about their honeymoon. She enjoyed her time with Kabir who always knew
exactly how to keep the whole family engaged. Ever talkative and observant, he
always brought a smile to his Maa's face. These last couple of years of her
life was all about creating wonderful memories with family. With Garv laying
out the cards as Palash, Shubhi, Kaka Bhaiya and Niyati play along while she
watched. Telling me how my guitar could be improved, posing for pictures in her
most recently shopped hat and scarf. She nibbled on her favourite sweets as she
narrated her childhood stories to Muskan and Nisha Bhabhi. All her sisters and
brothers took turns to visit her, and her response to their obvious question
was "Ekdum Badhiya hai Sab".
After multiple rounds of surgeries and chemo, came her first
demand for herself - "Mera
60th birthday achche se manana" was what she told me after seeing one
of her school friend's retirement party. I often feel that she purposefully
gave us a chance to serve her before she leaves her body. She wished me on my
birthday on 25th Jan 2024 and that was the last she spoke to me.
Before leaving her body, she closed all karmic loops, to the
extent that no one can feel good about her going. She was protective of me all
through her life, till her very last breath. Protected me from the painful
realities of life and death alike. She passed away, sparing me the trauma of
seeing her go. She left her body with gangajal and tulsi on her
lips. With the lord in her heart and "Hare ram, Hare Krishna" on her
mind. She passed away as her husband and her eldest son held her. After spending 60 years on earth, on the
morning of Magh Purnima.
That gloomy night as her bereft body laid in the hall, the
moon had its brightest shine in years. Celebrating her home-coming and telling
us that her being's luminescence is there to stay, in one form or another.
She came. She gave and she left. Even while dying, she
showed us how to live.
Yes, she was not that old. Yes, her abundance of love could
be cherished by us for decades more. But now that the inevitable has happened,
life gives me only one choice. In fact, mummy has already made that choice for
me. The choice to face life, receive the abundance it has to offer, accept it
fully and live willingly. Use life to reach the source of my being and extract
the jewels stored therein. Bring them out and offer them to the world around.
The huge void left by her is a black hole pregnant with possibilities.
Possibilities that will give shape to the values she lived by.
She lives on through all of us, her children. And she talks
to us, tells us what she wants. Her secret diary reveals that she always had
her children in her thoughts. Infusing the Guru force in their lives and
rooting for their success. She is still doing the same. Her life is
soaked in ours. Manifesting through memories and our actions alike.
She wants her grandson Zen to never feel the lack of the
super extra shower of love that she would have given, had she been around
physically. She wants Niyati and me to take care of that.
As for me, she wants me to define my own path, unafraid of
the shadows of expectations of the world. She wants to see nothing but the
ultimate realisation of my true potential. See my life burn bright with the
exhaustion borne out of complete surrender. I must see her after this. I
know I must maintain access to Her. I will not distract myself from that. I
want to be alone more often. To brew focus and invest it in my soul. She has
left me with many a bigger job to be done. Now she wants me to direct my
emotional energy and harness my life force in a way that allows me to fulfil my
potential - as a father, as a husband, a friend and an officer. She wants
me to make this life count. As for Niyati - she wants to see us as that couple
who inspires millions to live meaningful lives, filled with kindness. Can feel
her smile when watching Niyati hold Zen in her arms.
Most importantly, she wants all her children to remember her
happy times and not the traumatic tremors. The times when she was truly alive.
The times when she chirpily told her stories and happily shared videos of her
family. When she connected people from across the world through her innocent
concern and love. Her Zen and Kabir will know her for what she was - a
strong, kind, giving person who was ready to forgive and move on. The coolest
Maa in the world! Who worked and still works tirelessly to protect and nourish
her own.
One of those difficult days when language betrayed her, I found myself instinctively rubbing her forehead with my thumb. I was feeling like I was having a silent conversation with her. I gave her the news of her fourth grandchild and she mumbled something to herself. It is said that the soul takes home in an embryo after 3-3.5 months of conception. Just around her 61st birthday, 21 weeks after the shining moon. Zen was born. The math is clear.
How will you live if you know, as a fact, that your deceased parent is with you every moment, cheering for you to be the best version of yourself?
As for me, I would want to make her proud and show her all that I can be. Living intensely, leaving no stones unturned and freeing myself from my past into a glorious future. I would live a life rich enough so as to be alive for millions of years, through the lives I touch. Exactly like my mom, who left her body on Saturday, the 24th of Februrary. I left at 5AM to catch the flight to meet her. I ended up scribbling this while I was driving home from the airport, where I had received the news of her demise. "Karna Kya hai" - The question I was asking at the moment, was as relevant to the social ceremonies involved as to the entire life I was living.
घर आने को है, बहुत रो लिए, अब करना क्या है?
जवाब इसका हमेशा मम्मी ने दिया है,
अब करना क्या है?
घर पहुँचा आज जब, ना मिले जवाब तब,
करना क्या है! बताओ ना मम्मी?
आसुओं के प्रपात संग,उजड़ी सांस, सिसकि भंग,
दौड़-ता सवाल मन में,
भेदता उपाय सब ये,
पूछे हर बीते क्षण,
कि करना क्या है?
अर्रे तू चीखता क्या है? कर ना वही, जो वो करतीं,
पूछ खुद से, तुझ ही में वो आ बसीं,
तो क्या है जी के करना -
इस खौफनाक गणित में दिमाग मत लगा,
उनको जिंदा रखने को अभी तुझे है जीना।
जो वक्त है ये मुश्किल,
तुझे रखना होगा बड़ा दिल,
धो के चेहरा, जा के सब से मिल,
हिम्मत दे सभी को, और दे भी ये तू भरोसा,
करा दे महसूस की अभी भी जिंदा है सरिता।
