Tag: Spirituality

Faith & Fury

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Photo (c) Jan Wayne Fields

Faith & Fury

Words 101

β€œKhushiiii!” Heart in his mouth Arnav ran towards the edge.

Sweating and panting, bit-by-bit, he pulled her back and into his arms, for an infinitesimal second, before going on a verbal rampage. β€œWhat the hell Khushi! Can’t you do anything right? What if something had happened dammit?”

β€œBut nothing happened!” Khushi inspected her scraped arms. β€œIn any case, it’s all Devi Maiyya’s* wish. If She wants me who am I to fight Her?”

Arnav’s face grew blacker.

Khushi held out her hand. β€œHelp me.”

β€œAsk your precious Devi Maiyya.” He snapped.

β€œI did.” Khushi twinkled. β€œShe told me to ask you.”

***

*Devi Maiyya: Mother Goddess

Side note: Just a snapshot of my favorite couple Khushi and Arnav. I didn’t mean to write about them (100 words is not enough) but they have a habit of inveigling themselves and not letting go – apologies if it didn’t make much sense.

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Jan Wayne Fields for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

 

View From the Top

This week, I have this really tall one for Becca’s Sunday Trees

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the young uns

rustle and strain

eager to also

brush shoulders

with the sky

 

buffeted by winds

engulfed

in icy silence

bare branches

send a whisper

on a leaf

 

the sky

is just as far

from here

as from there

Β 

it is not about

how high you are

it is about how

deep you are.

Life and Death

As I come out of my shell and explore my surroundings I can’t help but notice a unique seasonal feature around these parts. Spring and fall seem to coexist. Leaves carpet the roads and mounds of leaves dot the sides of the roads until they are carted off to their final resting place. And yet gardens are abloom with a riot of colors – pink purple yellow and magenta. The peepal tree outside my office is a case in point. It is almost bare with a few green leaves determinedly hanging on until they turn yellow and reluctantly make their way down to whence they grew to such dizzying heights. And yet whilst this tussle is on, a new unruly batch has already sprung up gung-ho and eager to make their mark in this world. I have been feeling too inhibited to click this particule tree but I did mix and match some photos in an earlier post – Peepal in Spring.

For this post I have captured a few contrasting images from the world around me. Come scroll with me…

20180331_102923Clutching at straws

20180330_101305Brilliant and defiant in death.

20180330_101433Life towers over and mocks at death – it is not for me!

20180330_101500Yet some die before their time

20180330_101451While others bloom despite all odds

20180401_081112Even when there appears to be no hope or escape

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Only when we accept that ups and downs, life and death will happen can we move on and live life as she deserves to be led – wholly completely, entirely and unabashedly.

Wish you all a wonderful day.

The Journey Within

I missed Becca’s Sunday Trees but here I am on Tuesday. Have a wonderful day people!

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Skipping along the dirt road

she stopped to

stare and ponder

Poor old tree

No respite

No escape

Imprisoned

Forever and ever

The tree swayed with gentle laughter

A single curled leaf

Twirled its way down upon her head

Little one

Not all journeys are without

If you would

but look within

Surrender

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Photo (c) Sandra Crook

Surrender

Words 99

Β At first she grew in another garden.

Lush green and sprightly, she swayed with the winds, laughing at the elements as they cared for her like their own.

Only she wasn’t.

She was meant for another garden.

It was her prarabhda* to nurture and provide for strangers, to steer them through strife, storm and drought.

Her roots held them together.

Bound and unable to leave she withstood the onslaught of the changing seasons -waiting and hoping for eternal spring.

Years and they passed her by: demanding using cutting slicing.

Until she stopped waiting.

There was beauty in fall too.

***

A/N: Prarabdha is a Sanskrit word meaning commenced or begun. Prarabdha is one of three types of karma (originating from the root kri, meaning to act).

The others are sanchita karma – sum of all karma that has been collected; kriyamana karma, or agami – karma that is currently being created and will yield results in the future.

In Vedantic literature, there is a beautiful analogy. The bowman has already sent an arrow and it has left his hands. He cannot recall it. He is about to shoot another arrow. The bundle of arrows in the quiver on his back is the sanchita; the arrow he has shot is prarabhda; and the arrow, which he is about to shoot from his bow, is agami. Of these, he has perfect control over the sanchita and the agami, but he must surely work out his prarabdha.

Prarabdha karma is only exhausted after its consequences have been experienced or its debts paid. There are three types of this karma:

  • Ichha, that which is personally desired
  • Anichha, or karma without desire
  • Pareccha, or karma that is the result of another’s desire

The yogi who has achieved union with the Higher Self does not experience ichha prarabdha karma but is still subject to anichha and pareccha.

This is my second offering to this week’s Friday Fictioneer’s – sorry I couldn’t resist πŸ™‚ The first one is here but they aren’t interlinked.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Sandra Crook for the beautiful photo. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Thanks for reading πŸ™‚