Friend of mine from Punjab, another Sikh and tall at 6'5", believes that his life is over. He can't get over the fact that his father is gone, mother is ill. His large or rather tallish frame not withstanding, I can't understand what has got into him, he only speaks of why there is nothing in this world for him. When young people, and he is only 32, speak of death so casually, my only thought, though I must admit I haven't voiced it to him, is that GET UP MAN, MOVE YOUR BUTT. What have you seen in your life for you to scream out in pain, do you even know what pain is, when your thoughts are murdered you die a slow poisonous death, it ain't as if I haven't seen physical pain but it is nothing compared to the death of a philosophy.
My thoughts go back to 2001, when I was 32, going through the biggest crisis of my life. My body was sick, it was almost as if I had AIDS or something akin to it, whatever I did, I contracted the worst of the interaction, my whole life then flashed by in front of me almost like I had died and I saw faces and words, all wicked telling me that I would be consigned to the flames if they had their way. My friends, family all included in this panaromic slideshow, and during those days I saw the worst of times.
The only peace I found was in the rapids of Haridwar, I went there and the fast flowing water had a theurepatic affect on me, almost like it flushed me clean of all my illness. I remember lying in the shallow with two large rocks against which I buttresed my feet, and the rapid lifted my body up and down, my head bobbled and stomach rose to meet the air. It was the most sublime experience a sick man could have had, mother nature knew not what it has done for me and I am still in the process of paying back and in deep homage of life. At that time, my body was weak, what had happened no one knew, except my mind, deep inside, that the spirit had gone a walkabout. Now where did that term come from, I have never used it, but with the spirit in walkabout mode, my body was like a car without an engine, I would collapse at the press of remote control button, like a zombie with no control on my emotions, thoughts or physical body.
Imagine a Sikh lying in water with his beard and hair all lose, feeling the strength of nature flow through his body. It was cold and freezing but not even the gods that offered "the nectar of life" could have taken me away from the spot, I stayed there for hours and walked up to a free life, free of disease and sickness.
There is no God in my life, he died in 2001, when I screamed out in agony, both mental and physical, and no one came. There is only this force that drives us, and controls us, my moods, my strength, my attitude all comes from the alignment with this force. Every morning I must weedle my way into some kind of coherence with this force. Thus has been my life for the past 10 years.
When the sky falls, let the sky itself be the salvation
My thoughts go back to 2001, when I was 32, going through the biggest crisis of my life. My body was sick, it was almost as if I had AIDS or something akin to it, whatever I did, I contracted the worst of the interaction, my whole life then flashed by in front of me almost like I had died and I saw faces and words, all wicked telling me that I would be consigned to the flames if they had their way. My friends, family all included in this panaromic slideshow, and during those days I saw the worst of times.
The only peace I found was in the rapids of Haridwar, I went there and the fast flowing water had a theurepatic affect on me, almost like it flushed me clean of all my illness. I remember lying in the shallow with two large rocks against which I buttresed my feet, and the rapid lifted my body up and down, my head bobbled and stomach rose to meet the air. It was the most sublime experience a sick man could have had, mother nature knew not what it has done for me and I am still in the process of paying back and in deep homage of life. At that time, my body was weak, what had happened no one knew, except my mind, deep inside, that the spirit had gone a walkabout. Now where did that term come from, I have never used it, but with the spirit in walkabout mode, my body was like a car without an engine, I would collapse at the press of remote control button, like a zombie with no control on my emotions, thoughts or physical body.
Imagine a Sikh lying in water with his beard and hair all lose, feeling the strength of nature flow through his body. It was cold and freezing but not even the gods that offered "the nectar of life" could have taken me away from the spot, I stayed there for hours and walked up to a free life, free of disease and sickness.
There is no God in my life, he died in 2001, when I screamed out in agony, both mental and physical, and no one came. There is only this force that drives us, and controls us, my moods, my strength, my attitude all comes from the alignment with this force. Every morning I must weedle my way into some kind of coherence with this force. Thus has been my life for the past 10 years.
When the sky falls, let the sky itself be the salvation
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