Since it’s Sunday, I thought I would devote this post to a little spirituality.
The following are some thoughts and prayers from the book Book of Prayers by Mohandas K. Gandhi, aka, Mahatma Gandhi.
That which goes by the name of adversity is not such;
nor is that prosperity that goes by that name.
To forget God is adversity;
ever to think of him is prosperity.
Let him be whosoever he may be
whether Vishnu or Mahadev,
Brahma or Indra,
Sun or Moon,
Lord Buddha or Mahavir–
obeisance be ever only to him
who is free from the poisonous effect
of desire and anger;
who is filled with compassion for all life,
and who is purified by a perfectly virtuous life.
My boat is tiny and is laden with stones
Eddies are tossing it from all sides
and the helmsman is drunk
and the boat is in midstream
There is a whirlwind, and on the top of it all
rain is pouring in torrents.
Giridhar the poet says,
O Lord by thou the helmsman.
Let thy mercy by the oar,
and let the boat reach the shore safe.
I Googled Giridhar and found this poem by him:
Vanish into the thin air
Haze, was what my life was,
when every moment I depended on a light alas
like a creeper strangling a lovely nest,
it took me unaware
holding me tight against its deadly breast
conscience evaded my every sense,
I spent a thousand days in false pretence
“You ain’t nothin without me” it said,
and to its deadly lullaby, I nodded my head
Air strangely seemed impure to me,
smoke was my breath now; me its alibi
Every moment I longed for a drag,
Smoking – mesmerized me and I felt obliged
My heart cried out in vain,
with every passing bout of stinging pain
I ignored the signs, I filled it with smoke
one by one, my vital signs started to choke
Relief was what I thought I got,
but even my loved ones were a worried lot
I made up my mind to rage a battle,
with myself; with this ugly habit of mine
Till now I was your slave,
but even the weakest can sometimes be brave
An urge to burn the heart lasts for a few moments,
which could be spent thinking,
about the beauty of life; the love it represents
I could be the one my loved ones dreamed of,
only when I kick the butt of the butt and move on
My closet will look a lot beautiful,
once the smelly ashes are replaced
by flowers,both fragnant and colorful
No longer am I the slave of the habit,
which in this lovely world, every wise soul forbids
My heart bows down to me in gratitude,
when I feel the fresh air kissing my senses in solitude
Goodbye my friend, you freed me off agony and despair,
I finally walk free, seeing you vanish into the thin air