Review: Ghachar Ghochar

Ghachar Ghochar by Vivek Shanbhag
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Ghachar Ghochar- narration of a pretty common situation that every Indian has either gone through or has heard about. While money is something that is essential for survival, rapid exposition to wealth is not something that can be handled quite easily by a middle class family. Add to it, the indisputable disposition towards the family members, the fervor to hold everyone together, the frailty to accept new individuals into the family and the close yet not so familial relations with outsiders. This story says it all and it leaves me with a ticklish sensation that Ghachar Ghochar is every family's tagline.

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Beneath the crowd

This is a poem for some who prefer solitude and for others who question solitude.

Through the alleys of bodies,
Bound like raucous hedgerows,
Pitches screech;
For a circadian convulsion.
Talk in air is elixir, they deem,
Nay, I say, not to me.
Rare so not, the heads remark,
An overture to blend,they bring.
Shimmering, it is, for a wee minute,
But never winsome,that is to me.
Gleeful horde, cloy me though,
Splintering within, the ease and order.
The matter here, smooth it may seem,
Still, hard to act, for the soul underneath.
Shroud me not in voices and cry,
For, I see no joy in large company.
A lull so deep, is what I ask.
One sparse request,to all around me.

Waves, Mirrors and a Discovery

An Optics student's charm about the latest discovery !

Arms of LIGO

The world of Science is celebrating the detection of a certain kind of ripple- Gravitational waves ! The waves were predicted by Albert Einstein in 1916 while he was working on one of the most beautiful theories in Physics called the General Theory of Relativity. Almost 100 years later, the waves were recently detected thus opening a new window to the universe. While the whole prediction and discovery is amazing, what enchants me the most is the core idea of the experimental setup.

The whole experimental setup at LIGO (Laser Interferometer Gravitational wave Observatory), U.S.A. equipped with the best in technology spans over a radius of 4 km. The setup is a grand and a giant version of the humble Michelson interferometer. Any student of Physics should be familiar with the term and anyone with a sense of how light reflects and combines should understand the idea pretty well.

Fringes from M.I

I came across the concept of the Michelson interferometer during an Optics demonstration at College and it has impressed me at different levels ever since. Till then, nothing had been more beautiful than white light splitting into seven colours, but that holy experiment changed everything. The setup is simple yet elegant- A beam of light is split into two, allowed to travel and bounce from two mirrors at right angles to each other and recombined. A detector is then used to see how the recombined light looks like. As the mirrors get adjusted/disturbed, the pattern keeps evolving. For the first time, I saw streaks of bright and dark fringes that seemed to magically emerge out of a couple of mirrors illuminated by a laser beam. They looked just spectacular!

A good long time ago, when I was still in high school, my mother bought me a laser pointer and I spent an entire summer playing with it. I observed two things- the light reached farther and the beam spot was small compared to the light from a torch. Ten years later, as a masters student, I had to send a slightly high powered laser beam into an M.I and understand the reason behind those observations. It took a couple of more years for me to appreciate the technical beauty of Holograms which remained a fantasy for long. We did an M.I experiment at the dead of night in a pitch dark room on a vibration free surface to produce a hologram. A number of trials failed miserably but the end result was aces. We widened our tired eyes to see if the hologram was actually there and it was. Another sight worth witnessing! Later, during one of the classes on Special Relativity, M.I again came into picture and this time, it had incarnated itself as a tool to measure the speed of light-A humongous number and a prodigious upper limit in space-time.

Setup at LIGO

Fast forward another couple of years, 2015 arrived with royalty. The year was special for two reasons. It was declared the International Year of Light by UNESCO and it also marked the 100^th anniversary of the General Theory of Relativity. On one side, Science folks were celebrating the importance of light and light based technologies and on the other side, a remarkable discovery was being anticipated that would make Einstein's speculation into reality. On September 14, 2015 at 5:51 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time (09:51 UTC) , the signal was finally detected at LIGO observatories in Louisiana and Washington, U.S.A.

The signal, which is essentially a disturbance in the space time fabric came from the collision of two black holes that took place 1.3 billion years ago. According to General Relativity, two black holes lose energy as they spin around each other and eventually merge together to form a single massive black hole. The process which happens at half the speed of light is highlighted by the conversion of a portion of the combined mass into energy. This energy travels through the cosmic fabric as gravitational waves.

The LIGO interferometer at the core is a Michelson interferometer that has arms 4 km in length and suspension mirrors that weigh 40 kg each. More mirrors are placed along the arms to efficiently recycle power in the cavity to enhance the sensitivity. Light beam emerging from a 200 W near infrared laser travels a whopping distance of 1600 km (due to the cavity effects) before reaching the detector.This setup is about 144,000 times bigger than the M.I that was used to measure the speed of light in 1887. Just like the original M.I, the interference pattern would change if the mirror moves because of any disturbance.

Colliding Black holes

The radiation from the collided black holes hit the mirror and moved it by a distance as small as the width of an atomic nucleus. The resulting interference is at excellent agreement with the simulations and calculations of the General Theory of Relativity thereby confirming the genius' prediction. Though it was Einstein's contemplation, a whole bunch of scientists and engineers had been instrumental in the development of the idea over the past few decades. The discovery is certainly a big leap pushing science to a new era.

There it goes, a favourite experimental setup, BIGGER and BETTER !

The good, bad and ugly of a broken foot

Falling down and breaking my bones is an art that I have been practising over the years with no dedication but with supreme success. All thanks to the way I walk- sloppy frog jumps, drunken duck walk, mad mouse hops and so on. Add to it my eyeballs which can shuttle back and forth, up and down at the speed of light. This should tell how the art form comes so naturally to me. Every time I fall down, my poor bones would beg for an extra week of rest but my mind is too ambitious to let them stay in bed. I would give discourses on how my will power wins over physical fatigue and illness, but the truth is staying indoors for more than a day is dead boring.

Something funnily different happened this time confining me to bed for about a month. It was a breezy Friday evening and I was walking down the usual road in my usual way to catch a bus for dinner with a friend. Stepping over a small stone, I twisted my ankle and sensed a sharp pain but it was nothing compared to the torture of my hunger pangs. Note the point, I did not fall down. I hopped into the bus discarding the pain and started dreaming the sumptuous dinner I was about to have. As I delved into the crispy roasted chicken legs, a slight discomfort knocked my foot and then a chicken egg like structure developed on my foot. This was followed by an unwilling yet necessary visit to a nearby hospital. The doctor confirmed the pain to be from a fractured bone and my mom whom I had called by then confirmed that I am the most reckless kid ever. So there was a constant downpour of advice on one side and plain bashing from the other for the next few hours.

I had to keep my leg straight with constrained movement. The doctor's advice sounded like the starting line of a Physics problem. My calf bone had to be at an angle of 20 degrees from the bed and my foot perpendicular to the calf bone. I began my sedentary journey at home and for most days, there was incessant rainfall and gloomy weather outside. My worrisome granny kept shooting me with questions as to how exactly I broke my leg. She was not even close to accepting the reason I gave. I guess, it sounded too silly to her. 'Did you ride a hefty bike and fell down?', ' Did you jump down the stairs in five steps ?', ' Did you pick up fight with someone ?' were some of her thousand queries. God, I was furious in no time but that didn't stop her. She would pity me for a while and again start the full fledged enquiry. It still goes on.

One thing that pleased me beyond all expectations during the crummy period was the food. The aroma from the kitchen would dance through the air, tickle my senses and rub out the wobbliness from medicines. What could be better than piping hot food on a rainy day ? There was no denial when it came to food and by then my mom had understood the secret to keep my mouth shut from ranting. I had more ice creams than what I had the entire year.The bliss of good food kept my neurons from firing in random directions but the day came. 



My mind no longer wanted to agree with my leg. The battle had begun.

Suddenly, I wanted to walk, run, jump and play somersaults all at once. Tension kept building up my toes and my leg was no longer obedient to what was good. Once my mom leaves for office and my granny gets busy cleaning the garden, I would creep out of my bed in silence and spring to the nearby window. Cautiously, I would wander the room always at close vicinity to the bed with one foot always up. Oh, what relief ! The blood rushing down the legs felt like little fairies caressing the wounded with feathers-delightful. It was bad, I realised soon. Pain oozed up and down my feet every night I did the secret hopping.Nights were becoming nightmares with the extreme pain.

From then on, I had to entertain myself without hopping and started watching action packed movies religiously. That was the best part that helped me have the most vivid dreams- I did all that I couldn't do in reality. I was walking up the hills, being chased by animals and shooting down the zombies. The dreams were powerful, exuberant and projected me as a quirky ninja warrior. During one Jurassic park dream, I woke startled thinking a dinosaur had caught my leg but then it my mom who was patiently adjusting the posture of my foot.

I am marching (slightly crippled) towards the day when I will be able to jump and play gleefully again. As usual, I promise to be more careful from now on but does that even work ?

Memories

Wax wriggles down,
Melting some time.
Far off, a train chugs,
Into the mountains.
Rupturing bark,erodes
itself. The storm withers,
A howl sets in.
Dull echoes of last
Goodbyes. Faint memories
of lost struggles.

Silver lines, fairy tales,
A flute plays far away.
Holy winds, misty dales,
Whitey doves fly and play.
Streaks of Prussian skies,
Paint the window panes.
Memories of coffee brew,and
Laughter down the lanes.
An epoch of happy feats,
Sound of elated heart beats.

Moments flee day by day,
Nothing to trap,
Nothing to nail.
Revive the days,
Put on a smile,
and just move on,
Living the day.

Kalam: A Tribute

Wafers of smile span across,
a face of easy harmony.
Gentle tones of advocacy,emerge
from roots of true modesty.
Embracing the soul of optimism,
you marched the road to scholarship.
You led a path of revelation,
lighting the minds of humanity.
We found an exuberant educator,
to tell us mind is over matter.
We earned a cordial commander,
who unveiled natural integrity.
Of unblemished grit and diplomacy,
you were an art of simplicity.
A personage of thousand dimensions,
and a phenomenon in our history.
The ethereal spring withered today,
but the fragrance will stay forever.

May your soul rest in peace.

A Nostalgic Fresco

On a Summer midday,I perch in a room,
Devoid of disciples yet full of vim.
Peeling paints reveal the depth of moil.
And,echoes of practice grease the walls.
Filling the envelope of air inside,
Dwindled tantrums dot the uptight decorum.
Musty smell leak from timeworn desks.
Mazes of cobweb creep to the alpine roof.
Long windows open to a flaring mud field.
Crumbs of chalk cuddle the podium beneath,
And, smudge the wash of a worn black board.
Fading words remind of days that blend-
Into the vanishing point.
A twisted smile, an array of gazes,
A flush of thoughts and a deep breath,
All together,paint a nostalgic Fresco.

The Comfort Quietus

Bleached by loquacious riffraff,
And scathed by pompous conflux,
I quest behind the vanished sense,
In the sepulchre of holy spirits.
The spirits of quietus and silence,
Of mild secrecy in life before birth,
Of dark enigmatic crux in afterlife,
Bent in the hungry tidal warfare,
Of belching sorrows and crummy ease.
Entwined in the web of civilisation,
Of cry,scandal,bruises and misery.
Ripping the threads of entanglement,
I long cannily for a haven to abide.
Cocooned beneath the clamoured arena,
Of voices,wishes, whims and vices.
I live with a penchant for placidity.
Forever and forever.

Warm Song of Summer Rain

Dry and parched wide city alleys,
Weep under the erring swelter.
Some mirage lakes troll at best,
Teasing the fated summer thirst.
Stunned by the fondling breezes,
Kisses of drizzle daze the torrid.
Petting the gush of dusky pillows,
High tears rush.Of lost playmates.
A sway brushes the crust of Earth,
Cleansing the dust,dirt and pores.
Sleets of shower vamp out in swift,
Shrouding the land with still mist.
Puffs of virgin sponges subtly pace,
Breaching glimpses of simmering sun.
Pigmented arches swell up in layers,
Improvising a fable of rich fantasy.
Ambience juggles the sentiments plain,
Greeting the Warm Song of Summer Rain.

He left without proffering Goodbye

Last day of exam for the academic year was over. She was hopping with joy of anticipated celebration of the summer break.She grabbed her bag with one hand while holding the pencils and pens on the other. Bidding a jaunty goodbye to her peers, she ran swiftly towards home to kickstart the liberty with a scrumptious lunch. Even the muggy weather that usually peeves her was not able to dwindle her spirits that day. Drenched in sweat and smeared with dust, she breezed into lush green avenue that housed her haven.

Never  had she been so panicky to step into her beautiful home after returning from school. But that day, things were afflictively different. The old steel rocking chair on the porch was empty and strangers with inelastic faces were ambling past her. The smell of burning incense, the fragrance wafting from  variety of flowers and  an eerie silence pricked  at her nerves. With a rummage of grievous thoughts, she peeped into the hall and all she could see - a dazzling white shroud which neatly covered an old gentleman.

The heavy bag slid down her arms on the floor. Keeping her eyes rigidly fixed on the stiff face, she wiped the sweat trickling down her temples and jaded cheeks.

Someone clutched at her shoulders from behind and whispered in an aching voice.

'Grandpa passed away this morning. Pray for him.'

Neck cramped with an ache, fingers turning cold and goosebumps raised on her tender skin. Slowly, she approached the gentleman lying calm on the bed and caressed his toes. They were colder than her fingers, stiffer than her muscles and lifeless than her spirits.

'Why didn't you tell me ? We have lots more to share and play. Wake up! grandpa! Wake up!' She hit him hard with tears streaming down her cheeks.

That man who had never let her feel dejected was gone, once for all, without even bidding her Goodbye.

An Ode to Light

On the International Year of Light: 2015.

The aura of enlightenment, the spirit of victory and the joy of beauty convene to celebrate the antecedent of all things positive. 

O Light, Thou shall be the Master!

From the cradle laid on wild heavens,
Acumen spread athwart the cosmos,
Crucifying murk, christening shadows,
The spartan dances to a jingle fast.

O Light, Thou shall be the Master!

Cajoling folks to race behind.
The silent alchemy of distant stars,
Fleeting sunsets,lanterns,lamps
And a multitude of imposing impressions.

O Light, Thou shall be the Master!

The superlative heuristic wisdom,
The vision of venturing the unknown,
The aristocrat of modern Science,
The morale of the populace.

O Light, Thou shall be the Master!

Books, Me and a Cup of Coffee

Dribbling the last drop of filter coffee onto my ever gastronomic neurons, I kissed goodbye to this year's reading. It is time to catch a gasp of fresh air and recollect the bountiful times of the year spent in reading. The journey began with The Myth of Sissyphus, a philosophical account by Camus that imparts a sense of life and existence in a world torn apart by chaos. No one will back up on our ardent fervor to pursue personal objectives is a fact and this is subtely pointed out with remarkable clarity.

Stephen Chobsky's epistolary work The Perks of Being a Wallflower precisely details the growing up phase of an introvert and the poignant yet lucid style would have made me yearn more if I had read this book as teenager and not young adult. Nevertheless, the lessons learnt there were amplified by Scott Peck's lauded bible of living with spiritual values- The Road Less Travelled. Few sentences out there are to be read not once or twice but over and over again until the ideas seep deep.

Among the travel writings, Around India in 80 Trains by Rajesh Monisha wins accolades for celebrating the spirit of Indian Railways with wit, humour and a mild dose of sarcasm. Though the book was chosen with not much expectations, the writing was at par with my all time favourite account on Indian Railways, Chai, Chai. Hail Indian mass transit system!

Set around the same theme, both Tibet, Tibet and A Journey in Ladakh are classic renditions portraying the culture, tradition and ideals of Buddhism and pilgrimage. It is high time that I set out on a trip to the mountains and not confine myself to be an armchair traveller.

To spice up reading in a light way, Le Petit Nicholas and Tom Gates' Everything Amazing were picked up. The former one has deep-seated philosophy hidden beneath humour filled lines and the later is a musing of childhood and innocence. Once in a while, it is vital to slip back to tender age memories so as to replenish mind, body and soul. That said, nothing can perform the stint better than good books.

Let me write about the next book before the clock strikes the dead hour for The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova still gives me chills. Wound around the lives of three folks from three succeeding generations, the gripping tale will make one conveniently realise that blood sucking draculas are living amongst us- along crowded streets, silent racks in a library and brightly lit rooms but that is not all. Speak of the devil and it is here hunting for the most inquistive and intellectual breed on earth.

For once, I learnt that a piece of writing can make one both curious and furious. Thanks to J.M.G. Clezio's Terra Amata for that. The book is so overpowered with details that I lost patience just after second chapter. However,the intricate details cast a spell on the reader to slow down and enjoy the world one sip at a time. On the whole, Terra Amata is a fine substitute for meditation.

While the above mentioned books were instrumental in bringing about a change in my attitude towards reading and life in general, two well known books, Reginald and The Prophet gave me sleepless nights and palpitations. I am not leaving them here. They are reserved to be reread and analysed in 2015-New Year, New Thoughts and New Ideas.

It is she, again.

Angst ridden rants of a sleep paralysed specimen.

Curled up like a shrimp, I sleep
To the hush lullaby of distant winds.
Concealed under the diaphanous sheets,
A tranquil trance on my cradle neat.
The Teak door creaks, whines and moans,
A hard run breeze assaults her ribs.
Some rich gloss leaks from the orb of night,
And scantly veneers the floor inside.
An agile stir, my eyelids squint,
Loathing to stare the dead of night.
A swift slant at half open door, I curse
Intestinal fortitude. Damn, what I see !
Cold sweat trills, down the temple raps,
Feet teetering on the brink of torpor,
Fingers fizzle, heart flounders and
The ball of fire in deep skull quavers.
A voluptuous form, beguiling indeed,
Strides onward,chanting an aria of her own.
Plopping down by my frosting knees, she strokes
my cheeks that stiffen with unease and terror.
The heaviness hikes, my forehead shudders.
Angst hidden underneath my flesh oozes,
With every diabolical shear upon my neck.
Shedding invisible tears at vain attempts
To gasp fresh air and gain a spoon of life.
Owning a latched body and a clamped mind,
A game, I am, to the ogre besides.
Decade back, she made a scene on a pitch dark night,
Sending bouts of dread down my choking throat.
All set to plunge her nails acute, 
to savour my vital body juice under the night tide.
It is she, again.

The confused soul got confused a little more..

Be careful what you wish for... I didn't quite believe in it until I met you. You were a dream come true, only fear being, could it indeed be a dream that would leave me shattered, once it is over.You showed me things that I didn't know existed, you showed me fractions of myself, that would have remained hidden forever. You surrounded me, engulfed me,completely shut me off from the external world.You touched me, No protests, no resistance, absolute surrender. You knew it would happen. didn't you??I was lost, in the truest sense of the word. Yet when you left  I felt nothing, possibly because I anticipated it.

Time spent with you would remain a frozen account in my memory bank. 

Don't you dare touch my books !

Dear Book Borrowers,

All these years, whenever you came to borrow books from my little growing library, I have never been reluctant to give. Sometimes, I gave the most precious ones(in terms of the work) even for indefinite periods. Today, you have driven me to make an awkward conclusion- I am not lending books anymore! Never again knock at my door with that smirky smile to hunt for books. It is downright distressing to see the way my books were treated under your sloppy and indifferent custody.

 Where is the lustre of the pale white pages ? Where are the razor sharp edges ? Where is the life that dwelled inside the cover ? What you have given me back looks like a dull, uncombed baby with broken spine.(Well, you did not even give it. I had to dig it out of your room.) Why don't you have an iota of decency in handling them ? They were given to you for the sole purpose of reading. They are neither pillows nor kitchen tables for you to crush and spill your favourite curry.

 If you think I am making a big fuss out of 'not a big deal' thing then please dump yourselves underneath a pile of rotten veggies and shattered glass and let me know how it feels. I am sorry. I am way too possessive of my books-my love and I do not give a damn if you are cussing me for such a boorish and impolite behaviour from my side. Books are my biggest wealth and I am not letting anyone steal or mutilate the accumulated treasure.

Don't you dare touch my books again!

Annoyed and irked,

Me.

Orange Lights and Serendipity

Some orange light sneaks through the blinds and highlights the little bottle of water lying on my table. The room is pitch dark except for the golden rays from the neon lamps that struggle to creep inside. It is not a steady beam of light but it flickers. Flickers to the rhythm of the cold winds that sway the blinds embracing the window panes. I turn around to look at the bottle of water more closely and it looks wonderful. The table is shaky and that adds mystique to the otherwise ordinary bottle of water. I see ripples. Ripples of gold and amber racing towards the wall of the bottle. Bubbles of air entrapped at the sides rise mellifluously in sync with the ripples. I see life. A life that was not noticed before. A life that was not appreciated before. A life that appears only to the keen eyes. The blinds tap to the tune of the howling winds. I get lost in the play portrayed in a casual yet elegant style. It feels like sitting all alone in a theatre and watching a mono act. The wind now settles for the drizzle to catch up. A mild drizzle that softly highlights everything on its way with a glitter and gently breaks into the skin of a little pool of water outside. They carry with them their own rhythm and this time, the active procession of golden waves retire to become inanimate once again.

Embryo Unallowed

Her clan swarm to party the day,

Cheers! she is in the family way.

Puddings and pastries fill her tray,

Softly she says hip hip hurray!

The day comes like a thundercloud,

Her kith and kin are no more proud.

For she bears an embryo unallowed,

A birth that will end under a shroud.

She will have rosy cheeks and a little chin,

So what? we won’t let her life begin.

She will do us proud, earn wings and win,

No,she is a burden, bringing pain and sin.

Words descend like pricks and stings,

She writhes on the bed and lowly sings,

A trite little verse for the unborn wings,

Apologizing for the heinous things.

She twitches and turns out of dying pain,

Little angel, she drowns in the void in vain.

Women, they think, put an extrinsic strain,

On humanity which is simple and plain.

I find bliss in solitude

I find bliss in solitude.
Sipping a cup of coffee
Or, tasting a caramel toffee.
Munching a bowl of peanuts
Or, lunching a sugary donut.

I find bliss in solitude.
Hearing the ticking old clock
Or, crushing little pieces of chalk.
Mending with my old, unused pens
Or, standing upside down till I count ten.

I find bliss in solitude.
Trekking through the mountain ranges
Or, resting next to country granges.
Riding in pretty luxury trains
Or, gliding around and flying planes.

I find bliss in solitude
Searching for the physics of light
In a lab that is far away from sight.
Penning down my thoughts day and night
Hoping for something big and bright.

I find bliss in solitude
Running away from mobs and herds
Or,hiding away from mortal girds.
Whisking off to a different altitude
And find my bliss in solitude.

Saturday afternoon Blues

On a lazy Saturday afternoon, I write this, with a random instrumental music playing in the background. It feels like the perfect time to reflect on my 23 years of existence on this planet. There are the few lucky ones who know what they want to do or at least pretend that they have always known their purpose in life. Then there are the others who know what they want, but are unable to live life in accordance to their wishes. Very unfortunate! Then there are others who do not know what they want from life, this is where I fit in.  I bet the majority of the population would belong here.

I went to school like every other kid, chose a subject to specialise for my under graduate degree and did my master’s as I was expected to. Then began looking for a PhD, am yet to find one. I found a job instead.  Growing up in a country like India doesn't give you a lot of choices, you are expected to do certain things and you do them without questioning.  I am expected to start working and so I will. I am to be blamed as well. I gave in to peer pressure, to make sure I fitted well with the crowd. Success as defined by the society, it unconsciously makes you look down on the people who don’t follow norms. These are real people who listened to their heart instead of bowing down to the societal pressures and come under the first class of people I described above. There are trail blazers in every field who took the road less travelled, I didn’t. It is terrifying to go against the tide. So here, I stand at the threshold of another new venture, unsure of what the future holds.  Will I ever find out what my passion is? A backpacking trip to Bhutan would probably set the ball rolling!! 

Falling in love with Buddhism...(Part I)

I shouldn’t even be writing this as it goes against the ideals of Buddhism to be attached to labels, nevertheless I decide to put my thoughts into writing. There is something wrong with our conceptual way of looking at things, I had dealt with this long enough to realise that this approach to life leads to a lot of confusion. I went in search of the idealistic set of rules that would tell me how to behave appropriately in every situation, I even thought about how somebody else would handle the situation. Someone saner, wiser and more in control. I looked up to a lot of people and observed their reactions and tried to impersonate them when I had to deal with a similar kind of problem, Of course none of that really worked because there was no clarity. The situation was not the same, the people involved were not the same kind and above all how can I think for others constantly??

Then I ran into Zen Buddhism and I realised where I was stuck..Sure it didn’t happen overnight but the realisation slowly crept in. ‘Do not put anybody above your own head’.’No body can and nobody might save you’.’ Be a lamp unto yourself’  I can cite numerous other lines, the thing is Buddhism believes in the infinite wisdom present in each of us, If only we care to look instead of getting carried away with what the world tells us.

Compassion for the self, for others around us, these are not taught to us . One might as well argue that these cannot be taught but it wasn't even introduced to us so that we could practice with it. We are just told to be good to others and be helpful,but why should one do it?What about the self? Are we supposed to constantly punish ourselves and ‘ act’ noble for the sake of others? I didn't find answers to these nagging questions. May be one feels good at people’s validation of their service and benefaction but these won’t sustain us for long and we eventually get tired of seeking it. Or as a Buddhist might say we find it empty. And the other plausible reason is that we accumulate Karma points based on what we do so it’s best that we do good and avoid evil at all costs. That should give enough motivation to keep people away from wrong doing but it certainly doesn't work. If People really believed in the law of karma there wouldn't be so much suffering caused.( Buddhism might say beliefs don’t really help.) May be there is a way to get around this bad karma that we have accumulated and certain religions promise to do away with your karma if we decide to surrender yourself . All we need to do is repent (ie feel extremely guilty) for our misdeeds and God would save us. What I have realised is that there is a deeper meaning to this. This isn't as simple as feeling guilty and then getting over it and committing the same mistake over and over again with the hope of God saving us. Of course things can be interpreted in many ways so its up to us to decide what works and what doesn't. 

What did work for me was that if we look at ourselves with compassion and gentleness we see how we love our drama and how we keep it going. It isn’t easy to look at this dispassionately it is very scary and confusing at times to watch ourselves do stuff that we know we shouldn't be doing yet we continue to do.  Now It doesn't help to condemn our actions ,We only get frustrated and desperate when we don’t live up to the ideals we have set for ourselves. I haven’t been practising for long but what I do know is that there is another way. It is to be patient with all that we do,( the good,the bad and the ugly) that naturally reflects in our ability to tolerate others around us. Being kind to oneself has a whole new meaning .We see our own insecurities and fears, learn not to judge them and so with everybody else. We let people be who they are without criticising or attacking them not because we are saints but because we see the same stuff in ourselves every day.