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Confessions....I

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It is said in the Hindu scriptures, that when we die we float away to

unknown realms, carrying with us our desires and regrets, our unwept tears

and our soul's cravings...only to return to play this life out, anew, to

fulfill those very cravings, to cry those unwept tears.

 

Well, whenever, I meditate, odd incidents from my past that are stored away

in the dark recesses and crevices of my mind, spew out, leaving me

remembering and perhaps regretting, or smiling...wanting to experience

more...

 

More often than not, however, it is a pang,a feeling of " if only i had... "

or " wish vanity had not taken hold then... "

 

Sometimes tears are shed...at other times, the regrets just hang over,

brooding, like a dark cloud...like a pall of wet gloom...

 

One such incident dawned the other day...a regret that i will surely come

back to redress another life...

 

(I share and confess, wishing to wash the guilt away...I have so many after

all...!, i hope to share all with all as they sprout from within, just so in

the hope that some regrets are indeed truly washed away ...)

 

It is said that when we begin to meditate, the residue within, is washed

out, not unlike an old and dried up inkpot. The more we wash that inkpot,

the more ink seems to come out...at least in the initial stages.

 

How true...!

 

So Here Goes!!

 

CONFESSION # I

 

" Whenever I break the shell of a hard-boiled egg,

I remember Prasad...

our something-teen cook,

26 years ago...

 

On a train journey...of over 2 days!

My mother, my brother and I

Off to Siliguri

In the North Eastern Frontier of India...bordering China...

to meet up with my father, stationed there..

 

Prasad, in glee,...

enthralled and enlivened

smiling and reticent...

accompanying...

He was one of us after all...most of the time...

whenever we allowed him to be so...

 

And i remember, in a station

after several hours of travel

a vendor with a wired metal basket

full of hard boiled eggs

 

young as i was i pleaded

and my brother too in unison...

hard boiled eggs!

with salt and hot pepper and black pepper

Yummmmmy!

 

Sounds corny to the Western mind...?

well In India anything goes!

Revel in it!

and we did!

 

But what about Prasad?

he merely looked away!

Looked askance as we broke the shells

his mouth watering...

desiring, yet suppressing,

 

Nay! Transcending!

 

And now 26 years later!

whenever i break the shell of a hard-boiled egg

i remember him in tears...

i remember, cannot believing that we ate without...

i remember gobbling without so much as a pang

let alone a share...

 

Surely, surely...

i will have to...have to come back

to redress that wound...

 

Prasad! what would i not give to give you a hard-boiled egg... now!

 

" In Life Always Assume The Position Of a Giver "

 

_______________________

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