green leaf on a wooden chair

Dear Yo [to my wife]
I was thrilled to read the type of thought you gave to “a leaf on a wooden chair”. I thought no better than you did. I am enjoying life and its time now, more than ever – to say – everything is perfect.
As for my thoughts about the same topic:
From an observational point of view-
1. It represents two living things who have become non-living and yet not nonexistent.
2. Two objects now at the mercy of somebody else to be or not to be moved away.
3. Two apparently intimate objects that can be easily separated by the slightest distraction of a breeze.
The first feeling is one in which there is a feeling of the perpetual survival much after the apparent death – of feelings as part or of life as a whole. The chair is old and the leaf is youthful, the chair has perseverance and the leaf is restless. The leaf came back to the wood for one last time, to feel it , care for it , and love it. And like a brave heart, the wood enjoyed the caress for ‘what could be more threatening than the thought of loosing what you have started to like’. I can feel an intense feeling of love between the two during the very last moment, caught in time frozen which shall pass and yet in the smallest fraction of time- there is a long way to go. Could it resemble a person’s life acquaintance with people whom they continue to love for a life time- measured as a miniscule event in the vast and magnanimous chronology of the universe?
What appears to have got disconnected from the visible and perceptible sense of life (existence or presence) may actually continue to linger for may years into the future. Take for example, your memories of your childhood friends, they grew and were inadvertently lost over time. Then many long years later, the memories, though they have very few direct requirements, continued to resurface with a new significance like the leaf and the tree which gave the wood will when they are again reborn as a sapling. Of course this is the continuity of energy- the cycle of life. Look how the simple association has effectively captured a particular moment in this process.
Or maybe
Two objects disconnected from the energy of life are at the mercy of anybody or somebody to be or not to be separated away. Whatever may be the method of separation (rudely cast away or gently lifted and placed in a respectable position),the leaf shall not be allowed to rest on the wooden chair sooner or later. It has to go and worst of all , if nobody does , mother nature will in order to preserve the process of life –“ from earth shall we come and to earth shall we go”. Did you notice, the leaf represents a small life and the chair in comparison represents eternity. One comes like the sparkle of a fire fly and the other a long smothering flame. This is the unique destiny of every entity. The leaf falling on the chair is a coincidence like Buddha achieving nirvana , Ramakrishna getting enlightened and oneness with eternal peace. Unfortunately, such a leaf falling on such a chair is indeed a rare event.


Or maybe
Two intimate objects as we have them to be ever linked together from our childhood have actually developed a fragile relationship, each with a reserved and rigid self perception and unforgiving to the other. The fragility is such that a gentle breeze is capable of ending their reputed relationship. The mechanistic nature of the chair, rigidity of thought could not care enough for the beauty of the green leaf. In the similar proposition the leaf never realised the concern expressed through the robust nature of the wood when it had held the leaf with life. And now is departure. There is no more attachment, mere regret that the leaf will be lost and so will the grace of the chair once the breeze blew by. They shall then again meet as a sapling, exchange places, and repeat the ballad of life once again.

The above is an observational view – I observed the two objects and related them as metaphors representing a continuum of thought.

Can there be another way to feel the same association?
If I were the leaf- I had fallen detached from my parent tree (my upbringing, my family, my umbilicus) on to a system of measured accuracy, completely unconcerned about my gentleness. The fragile curls with which I was nurtured, the strong hold of my roots, kept me from falling so long. When the breeze had blown very thick, when there was a storm, I was still held strongly by my roots. But I don’t know , that very day , I got free , I was left alone, I was allowed to precipitate on to this wooden framework which has no intentions or reasons to hold on to me. I never saw this chair before , but if I would have , I sure would have been impressed. Its handsome look, the lines on its body, the glaze over its varnish and the mathematical precision – all suggest a royalty. When I land on the chair , I knew my beauty will relate well with the grace of this precious crafted wood. – And yet nothing happened! Everything was just as cold as the mortal. There was only one purpose which was being satisfied for ages and had made the chair lovable to its users. It knows nothing and needs nothing. I feel lost and wish to get back to my roots. But the roots are unforgiving. They point their fingers towards the earth and they say –‘from earth you have come and to earth you shall go’.

If I were to be the chair-
A carpenters craft is best demonstrated in the beauty of the chair he makes. I have lived so long , shaped to good precision, tempered to bear the load all my life and perform my work with dignity. And then on this fine day, I felt the gentle touch of a green leaf. It sent my mind spinning way back in the past to the days in my childhood where discipline was never defined. I was part of a big family who were rooted together for a singular cause – nurturing of our sprouts. I used to love holding to the new leaves and change from one to another as the newer ones came up. My mind was full of energy. Never did I ask myself – what happened to the beauty I had just held in my hand. For I knew not it must have fallen to the beneath. This green leaf is breathing heavy and I can’t do much about it. Coming to me happened to be a chance event in its life for it is destined to meet the earth. I know one day I too shall follow- oh! Creepy destiny- makes me sleep till the time comes for me as well to find peace in this cycle of life – make me a leaf in my next life.


Pratyush.

think oblique: The fallen glass of water

think oblique: The fallen glass of water: "Inextricably intertwined with the practice of not-knowing is the primacy of direct experience. “Don’t take my word for it,” the Buddha sai..."

The fallen glass of water

Inextricably intertwined with the practice of not-knowing is the primacy of direct experience. “Don’t take my word for it,” the Buddha said “Seek out your own salvation.” Though there is always room for distortion, the insistence on direct experience is fundamentally an antidote to fundamentalism. For to be genuinely focused on discovering for oneself what is true or not true is inherently different from attempting to conform—and getting others to conform—to someone else’s record of the truth.
Forgive me if at any stage in what I write I forget. I am in great grief. It is in this state of emotion, I am attempting to break through a event which has overnight shaken me up. I realised that entire strength of a person is built within a microcosm which interacts with its surrounding. Sometimes this energy may be able to break through and other times will be broken.
I saw a glass of water fallen on the table with water spilled all over. The water which was a whole well shaped by the volume of the glass, has now been broken into pieces as if someone which was a part of the whole wanted to break free. So it spilled itself. It fell nice to begin with since its heart paced and it broke new ground. There was a new energy that it saw and sought. And then there was the little water in the glass which had been left behind. With pain it watched the rest of the water flow away. It was jostled and shaken and weak but it knew that the apparent liberty was merely a pretence. I saw the glass fallen. I saw the water spilled both silently experiencing the pleasure and pain.
My grief awaits the transition of ‘not knowing’ to the ‘direct experience’ for the water remaining within and the water spilled. I am to be thankful to the one who spilled the glass of water as well as the one who promptly flowed away. The question is how long it will take to answer myself what or rather when I shall learn not to ask question. This day of 12th of august shall be remarkable for will start losing my spilled half.