All My Troubles Are Over.

I received this message via FaceBook.

Kwasi Frederic

  • Dear Rajgopaul,
    Your surname (Rajgopaul) is the same surname with one of my late client Engineer Patrick Rajgopaul who died with his wife and only daughter in a car accident here in Lome-Togo. Engineer Patrick Rajgopaul left behind the sum of Seven Million Two Hundred and Forty Five Thousand United States Dollars (US$7,245,000.00) with Union Bank here in Lome-Togo. After the death of Engineer Patrick Rajgopaul, I have tried my possible best as his personal Lawyer to Secure this Fund but the bank said I must submit the bank account details of any of his relative bearing the same surname Rajgopaul, and he already told me when he was alive that he has no relative for over 35years he nationalize here in Togo, therefore since you have the same surname with him, I will like to present your name and contacts to the bank as one of his family relatives and the bank will transfer the money to you, then both of us will share it 50%-50%.
    Please if I don’t claim the Fund, the bank will transfer it into their treasury as an unclaimed fund and it will just go like that, therefore it is better I secure it because I spent so much money to take them to the hospital but after everything they all died. So I have to take the responsibility of their burial and hospital bills. Please reply me as soon as possible to enable me send you the full details or you can as well call me: +228 99 97 34 79.
    Yours Sincerely,
    Barrister Khalid Norman.

But For The Grace Of God……………………..

I had an occasion to attend a religious ceremony recently. It was more or less obligatory for me to attend, being the senior most elder from the father’s side, in a position to attend.

There were a number of things that happened there that needs to be recorded for posterity.

On the way to the venue, about 125 Kms away, I stopped for some coffee at a halfway food court. The place was unusually crowded due to three bus loads of school girls on a picnic who had stopped there for breakfast. Some of these girls were so solicitous seeing me walking with my crutches, that they decided to adopt me and mollycoddle me. I basked in all the attention and the consideration shown by this young girls.

When I entered the venue where the ceremony was being held, all the other invitees were already present. Almost all of them about or above my age. Here, the perception was different. I could feel completely different vibes. The vibes said, with a sighs, “But for the grace of God, there go I”.

I went and sat down next to another senior citizen, my cousin, not in the best of form, and engaged in some conversation with her, much to her delight and joy.

Then came the time for the elders to get up, go near the altar to bless the child and his parents, and I saw some remarkably unfit senior citizens, not being able to walk unaided, but who were not using crutches or canes or walkers.

I went “But for the grace of God go I.”

We are funny.

Serene.

Welcome to the Friday Loose Bloggers Consortium where twelve of us write on the same topic. Today’s topic has been chosen by Will. The ten other bloggers who write regularly are, in alphabetical order, Delirious, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Magpie, Maria SF, ocdwriter, Padmum, Paul, Rohit, The Old Fossil and Will. Do drop in on their blogs and see what their take is on this week’s topic. Since some of them may post late, do give some allowance for that too! Having given us the topic, will Will or won’t Will?

Calm, peaceful, or tranquil; unruffled: a serene landscape; serene old age.

That is what the dictionary defines the term as. Each word worthy of a post by itself but all of them pointing to a state of being which all of us would dearly love to have.

In the Indian system of yoga, reaching that stage of perfect serenity is called Moksha. The nearest English word for that can be Liberation. Moksha is freedom from all limitations. A person seeking Moksha is called a Mumukshu.

Just anyone cannot become a Mumumkshu. He first needs to have certain characteristics. They are:
1. Viveka : The capacity to discriminate between the permanent and the impermanent.
2. Vairagya : Dispassion to the enjoyments of the fruits of one’s actions, here or hereafter.
3. Six qualities like Sama etc.
4. Yearning for liberation.

The Six qualities mentioned in the third requirment are: Shama, Dama, Uparati, Shraddha, Titiksha and Samadhan.

Shama: Being in control of one’s mind.

Dama: Control of the sense organs.

Uparati: Ability to perform one’s duties (enthusiastically, without any sense of burden).

Shraddha: Faith in the words of Guru, and Scriptures is Shraddha.

Titiksha: The ability to endure the pairs of opposites like heat & cold; pleasure & pain etc.

Samadhan: The ability to stay focused / concentration.

And we think that Serenity is easy to obtain! My spiritual teacher calls this the modern attitude of Instant solutions. Like Instant Coffee, we look to buy serenity off a shelf in some Ashram from some Guru by offering a dakshina.

When one is a Mumukshu, after having acquired the qualities enumerated above, the work starts in earnest. Meditation, reflection, discussions with other seekers, reading, attending classes etc are then taken recourse to.

Even with all these efforts, there is no guarantee that one will reach that stage of Serenity. In our systme, it is assured that being on the path, if one does not reach that stage in this life, s/he will get an opportunity in the next life by being born in a family where the process will be speeded up. If one does reach that stage in one life, that person is called a Jivan Mukta and there are a number of them amongst us, except that we do not recognize them as such.

Beginnings.

There is a saying that our teachers constantly use to goad us to achieve various results. “Better never begin; Once begun, better finish.”

We often start some new endeavour and after some initial enthusiasm, lose the staying power to finish it. This is particularly so for me on many blog post topics. Currently, I am sitting on seven posts in draft form at various stages of completion. While that keeps piling up, some new idea comes to mind and that gets published leaving the old ones behind. The only exceptions to this state of affairs being the LBC posts every Friday.

Now that I am increasingly getting involved in all kinds of activities outside the home, this is getting to be even more difficult as I am not able to find the time that I had while I was convalascing.

Some serious bloggers have commented that I have stayed the course and continue to blog regularly, whereas, most blogs tend to fizzle out after the first initial few posts. While this is indeed a highly gratifying compliment, I still wish that I could finish all the posts that are in draft form.

How about you readers? Do you have such problems finishing projects that you have started?

The Old Master.

Delirious was reminded of this poem, when she read my post Self Worth.

The Touch of the Masters Hand

Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
thought it scarcely worth his while to waste much time on the old violin,
but held it up with a smile; “What am I bidden, good folks,” he cried,
“Who’ll start the bidding for me?” “A dollar, a dollar”; then two!” “Only
two? Two dollars, and who’ll make it three? Three dollars, once; three
dollars twice; going for three..” But no, from the room, far back, a
gray-haired man came forward and picked up the bow; Then, wiping the dust
from the old violin, and tightening the loose strings, he played a melody
pure and sweet as caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer, with a voice that was quiet and low,
said; “What am I bid for the old violin?” And he held it up with the bow.
A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two? Two thousand! And who’ll make
it three? Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice, and going and
gone,” said he. The people cheered, but some of them cried, “We do not
quite understnad what changed its worth.” Swift came the reply: “The touch
of a master’s hand.”

And many a man with life out of tune, and battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, much like the old violin, A
“mess of pottage,” a glass of wine; a game – and he travels on. “He is
going” once, and “going twice, He’s going and almost gone.” But the Master
comes, and the foolish crowd never can quite understand the worth of a soul
and the change that’s wrought by the touch of the Master’s hand.

Myra ‘Brooks’ Welch

My question to Delirious is: am I the old battered violin or the gray haired man from the back?

Did the ladies bring out the best in me or did I bring out the best in the ladies?