The
reason why I am posting so much is because I have taken a break from my
writing. My brain was getting tired. Also, I am in the city where the Internet
connection is better than in our village. And then, there is so much more
leisure here where I live in one room and don’t have to think about a whole
house. Really, one ought to live in one room; one ought to have a shack. It
makes me realize how less is more and people who don’t have elaborate homes are
often more fortunate than people who do. In a way we are trapped in boxes of
our own making.

There
is the other side of it, too, of course, the joy of owning and tending, but
these days I am in an ascetic mood and looking forward to living in a room in my
mother’s house for a week. Payson joins me in a few days.

Speaking
about my mother, I had a wonderful two hours with her yesterday on my arrival.
She looked well and said God had given her another life. I love it when my
mother talks to me about sexual topics! A few details of her life with dad, a
few details about others. We had a good laugh and then we sat and ate together.
This morning I was lured out of my room by beautiful kirtan pouring into my ears
from the TV that she has on very loudly because she can’t hear very well. The
melody was haunting as the kirtaniya (singer of sacred songs) sang: What
blessed destiny will take me to my Beloved? I meditate on His (or Her) blessed
feet and speak his name day and night.

The
words in Panjabi were: kavan sanjog milo
prabh apnai. Pal pal nimakh sadaa har japnai.

The
words alone can’t convey the enchantment.

But
here’s a photo of my mother reading the paper. At ninety four she still sits upright,
cross legged on her bed.

failed again. Next time.