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10/17/2016

Between mythology and reality: how much violence!

It’s Tuesday. It's Dussehra. A sweet festival celebrating the victory of the god Ram over the Demon Ravan, who had kidnapped Ram’s wife, Sita. Our society had organized a small commemoration for the occasion. We arrived during the battle of Hanuman, the monkey God, painted in red, terrifying, as much as his comrades or enemies with giant moustaches, all of them fighting. I took baby Samurai close to the stage (the only place where there was a little room to sit) but with these monstrous costumes and super loud music, he got scared and I couldn’t blame him. What an explosion of violence!

image1.JPGThen we moved away from the speakers and their noise pollution and patiently waited for the ‘highlight’ of the show: they were to set fire to a giant demon (at least five meters high), and to his brother and son! We sat on the grass, the ground was a quite sloppy. I was holding Baby Samurai tight in my arms. The demons were on our right, a few metres away, behind a safety rope. I was looking at the crowd on my left, quite absorbed in studying all these people who never get out of their luxurious villas. And then, all of a sudden, a massive explosion. I turn my head and see this giant statue on fire, burning debris flying everywhere, people running, and, to add to the confusion, bombs continue to explode. I panicked. Completely. I grabbed my little one and tried to get up. Failing to do so, I fell, and started to get out of there crawling. When I finally spotted my favourite Indian! I yelled at him to take the baby, used his help to get up, took my son back, and while sobbing of terror, I run for our lives!

Once we reached a safe place, the last demon was going in flames and crackers and it was still so loud, I had to block the ears of Baby Samurai. And this circus was finally over. It is only the presence of the nanny (one can not be weak in front of the staff, right, Madam) that kept me from screaming and crying my distress. Half an hour later I finally stopped shaking, took a look at my injured knee and started to relax.

8 years ago, during my first Diwali in Mumbai, a jerk had exploded me a firecracker thirty centimetres from me, leaving me almost deaf in one ear, and so vaccinating me against Diwali in a big city. Since then, I have always made sure I would be in a remote area of India during that time of the year. And now it is going to be the same during Dussehra!

The scene shot by my neighbors (not busy fleeing it):

11/23/2015

It’s my destiny! (Karma for dummies)

What is karma? Every action you do, like me writing at this very moment, has a consequence, an effect, in this life or the next. Everything is a matter of cycle. Basically if you do a good action with a good intention, you will sow positive fruits. However if you do a bad action with a bad intention, careful with the backlash! And there is no way to escape... It’s a bit like fatality: it’s inevitable and it looks like an occult force which would determine the events. Nevertheless it doesn’t make the individual less responsible: he is his own master, and everything depends on him, on his intentions and his choice... If your life is full of shit, too bad, there is no much you can do about it, you are carrying bad karma; however you can keep doing good things for the future effects! Just see what Sogyal Rinpoche writes in Glimpse by glimpse:

india,karma,buddhism,religion,destiny,fatality,diwali,noise,crackers,sikkim,rumtek monastery,monk

And to illustrate... One day I did something wrong. What I don't know but as a result, I got a cracker exploding right next to my ear and it was so deafening that I thought it would lose hearing. It was my first Diwali in Mumbai, in 2009. Following this unfortunate incident, I swore I would never spend another Diwali in this city, already noisy in a normal time, and which turns crazy during this festival of lights; they burst crackers (and not small ones, day and night). So this year I went to Sikkim. A very small State, in the North of India, Buddhist like I like it. With mountains, lakes and monasteries. Peaceful. Quiet. I was there, on top of a hill, in the backside of Rumtek monastery, next to the monks’ playground, when, while I was enjoying the view, a young monky... bursted a cracker just next to me, blowing my ear. Karma suffers no exception... I just have to live with it: I am meant to have my ears suffering during Diwali!

By the way, at the time of writing these lines, I hear a valse of crackers. Apparently they are celebrating basilic (Tulsi) - go figure - and preparing for the birthday of the guru of the Sikhs. It's  like another Diwali, which I have never experienced. If this is not the proof of karma what would be? One cracker for each slap I gave my younger brother, I am not close to the end of it!!

india,karma,buddhism,religion,destiny,fatality,diwali,noise,crackers,sikkim,rumtek monastery,monk

The prankster monks of Rumtek monastery, Sikkim