That’s where everything comes from and everything goes,

All possible beauty it holds,

Most of an atom is nothing and so is most of the universe,

Time and space are nothing too.

I am nothing and so are you.

Just being with the nothingness is being true,

The silence therein connects us two.

All is one and all is none,

Nothingness of love spares no one.

Look, and it’s not seen.

Listen, and it is not heard,

Reach, and it can’t be grasped.

Seamless and unnameable, beyond the realm of form,

No beginning or end,

As subtle as a gentle breath, a kind smile for oneself.

Whenever we went out for coffee, he would have an espresso or cappucino and I, a hot chocolate. It was another one of our bonding things. I have not had a hot chocolate since Day 0. I just haven’t felt like it. It’s funny how a button gets switched off in a second.

When I think of my childhood, so many stories come to mind. Religion, mythology, history and literature are full of stories. Everyone has a story. Entire civilisations have been built upon stories. Friends and relatives come together and share stories from here and there and we remember a lot of people by their ability to tell a good story. Films are stories told and retold. In the end, life is just a story. Some bits are fun and some are not. Sometimes it is too good to be true and other times it is a bitch. But, it’s nothing but a story. That is all it is.

Here’s some good new – a blood test for biomarkers to predict those at a high risk of suicide.

http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/265062.php

It’s like the calm after the storm. It was 10 weeks from his diagnosis to passing away – even before the implications of such a diagnosis had sunk in. It is 10 weeks now since he passed. I wake up in the morning and the first thought is ‘he is gone’, the first feeling is sadness, the first thing to do is lie in bed for a little bit longer. Even after all this time and ceremonies and crying, there is a part of me that is in a state of disbelief! I have not received any texts or e-mails from him and still it feels unreal. That could be because it is true. At some level I know that the spirit can never be extinguished. The ‘Bhagwad Geeta’, one of the most extraordinary scriptures on the philosophy of life says that the body is just a garment that the soul puts on. The soul has no birth or death.

When i sit with my eyes closed, I can feel his beautiful energy – sweetly trying to encourage me to move from PC to Apple, to go to the gym regularly, to eat well and rest well. When I open my eyes I can feel his presence. He is my guardian angel. The desire to have him with me physically is the cause of my misery. I need to give up that desire and expand my consciousness and know that he exists.

The visits to the gym are leaving various parts of my body in varying degrees of soreness. But I am diligently going every other day. The only way forward is to work through the pain.

The Prince of Wales has said that the west has been ‘de-souled’ by consumerism. The financial and environmental crises are the outward consequences of a deep inner crisis of the soul. In this world of limited resources, we look for continuous ‘growth’ measured by our desire and ability to consume! We abuse the generosity of Mother Nature and Mother Earth in so many ways. Is it any wonder then that depression is an illness of the affluent societies and is on the rise?  Christmas is a perfect reminder of this fact. The world population is expected to exceed 9 million in less than 4 decades. Unless we learn to honour ourselves and this planet, how are we going to share our resources and live peacefully?

The Sailing Ship 

– Bishop Charles Henry Brent (1862-1929)

‘What is dying?
I am standing on the seashore.
A ship sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.
She is an object and I stand watching her
Till at last she fades from the horizon,
And someone at my side says, “She is gone!” Gone where?
Gone from my sight, that is all;
She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her,
And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her;
And just at the moment when someone at my side says, “She is gone”,
There are others who are watching her coming,
And other voices take up a glad shout,
“There she comes” – and that is dying.’

Sleep in heavenly peace my ‘Jaan’.

It’s Christmas eve. Last year on this day, he, his best friend and I set out in the evening for ice-skating only to find out that it did not take place on Christmas eve. So, we landed up in All-Bar-One. It was fun. Very spontaneous, just like him. Everything reminds me of him – chop-sticks, because we always used to compete on who was better at using them, percussion as that was his thing, anything french because he was such a francophile, a good joke because he always made me laugh, any picture of a mother and a child, looking in the mirror because I see glimpses of him, the sun, moon, rain, clouds and the breeze! Everything.

https://soundcloud.com/joe-joey-guppy/saagar-naresh

This is a link to a song written and sung by a dear friend of his, dedicated to his memory. The lyrics might not make much sense as there are a few in-jokes in them but it is great and I love it. Thanks Joe!

Yesterday I heard a phrase which accurately described one of his main attributes: ‘strong consciousness of social obligation’. He really cared. It bothered him that he was unable to do something as basic as partake in a conversation. Even in his farewell note he said – Sorry! He knew.

May peace be upon him and all the world!