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dimanche 26 mars 2017


Adios y Bienvenidos    CUBA
Hellos and Goodbyes
One of the principles of Yogic Philosophy is the Lack of Attachment: attachment to objects, places and people that binds a person. It is part of Kleishas or structural defects of the mind which can lead to dissatisfaction with life.
Places come and go, as do people. Who would have thought that I would leave Melbourne, Australia, the city of my dreams that I loved so much?  It now features in my distant memory, and holds no bitterness of loss. London is not lost but the longing for it has. Kingston, Jamaica is in the oblivion of my thoughts; Suva, Fiji; Baracoa, Cuba all have fallen from their exalted positions. Miami is a soothing balm, not demanding much, Paris never meant much, Brussels is utilitarian, and Cochin in Kerala is a love with no attachment and I write this from Havana, Cuba which is a moveable feast for me.
Brazilian poet, Cecilia Meireles had written
E aqui estou, cantando.
Um poeta é sempre irmão do vento e da água:
deixa seu ritmo por onde passa.
Venho de longe e vou para longe:
mas procurei pelo chão os sinais do meu caminho
e não vi nada, porque as ervas cresceram e as serpentes andaram.
Também procurei no céu a indicação de uma trajetória,
mas houve sempre muitas nuvens.
E suicidaram-se os operários de Babel.
Pois aqui estou, cantando.
Se eu nem sei onde estou,
como posso esperar que algum ouvido me escute?
Ah! Se eu nem sei quem sou,
como posso esperar que venha alguém gostar de mim?

And here I am, singing...
A poet is Always brother to the wind and water;
he leaves his rhythm where he goes.
I am coming from afar and I am going far,
but I have searched the ground for signs of my way
and I have seen nothing, for weeds have grown up and
                                      snakes have moved about.
I have also searched the sky for the pointing of a way,
but there have always been many clouds.
And the workmen of Babel have committed suicide.
So here I am singing...

I do not even know where I am,
how can I expect that any ear should listen to me?

O I do not even know who I am,
how can I expect anyone to love me?
 She had written elsewhere: people come into our lives, some leave no memories but others leave a void that can never be filled. It is also good to remember that in this modern world most of the human interactions are between 5-10 minutes long, whether on the phone with an airline agent or a taxi driver or a waitress or a GP at his surgery, so one good advice is to make the best of these accumulated short interactions. We lament the vacuum created by those loved ones who left us, trying not to fill it, emotionally deprived that happens so seldom. But most leave flimsy memories with no shadows, no nurturing of attachment and their loss is felt only superficially.
Cuba is a place where you can make friends easily, it is also an easy place to say good-byes.
Cuba is a place where you can take your heart to be dry cleaned, a friend of mine used to say. In the general innocence of their minds, it is easy to see cynicism without curiosity (Cubans are just opposite, they are curious without being cynical, a true sign of intelligence), lack of gratefulness and humility, seen often among the westerners (Cubans are both, even for the simplest of things in life).
As such these friends, regardless of their nationality, excuse themselves out of our lives, their presence becomes a memory and memories are there to be forgotten
Remembering the poet, Pablo Neruda
We can forgive with enormous hearts
Those who cannot love us
Sadhguru would encourage us to live with the qualities in others that we do not like

But let us forget them with generosity.