c u on top - satyabrata dam

Once I visited my Master in his mountain cottage, high above amidst lofty snow covered peaks. As usual, he had an assembly of followers and disciples around him as he sat beneath his favored Cedar canopy.   I greeted him silently and he smiled and bade me to take my seat near him. Soon enough a middle aged lady of stately bearing came forward and took her place in front of the Master. And she asked:   Master, my life is full of sadness and pain, memories of my past and deeds of present trouble me day and night without respite. What should I do?   Master didn’t say a word but silently picked up a round stone from the ground, perhaps few hundred grams in weight and handed it to the lady. Dear sister, he said, please hold on to this stone within your right hand fist and extend your arm straight parallel to the ground.   The lady followed the Master’s advice with a quizzical expression. Is the stone heavy? The master asked. Not at all. She answered. Ok, then continue holdin

  My mother and I boating at Dal Lake, Srinagar Once again it’s Mother’s Day today and as usual I thought of penning my thoughts about mothers of this world and motherhood.   Motherhood isn’t a profession but an occupation, which for most parts is a life-long pursuit, for the child may grow up and become an adult capable of taking care of her or his needs and life, the mother cannot stop being a mother and be concerned about the former’s well being. Why mothers are like mothers? I have often wondered and had even asked this question to my own mother. To which my mother had said: mothers are like mothers because they are mothers. If mothers were not like mothers then mothers would not be mothers.   Now go figure out the logic of this statement above.   Nearly all of my 40 plus friends (women of course, since I do not have the other gender friends) are mothers while many of the 30 plus ones are either on their way to become one or at least contemplating such a possibility.