Tag Archives: karma

POEM: THE SUM TOTAL OF LIFE

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The sum total of life was never easy to calculate,

And the equation of existence was never easy to evaluate,

Where, I had rubbed some, and some had rubbed me,

And from this tug of war I could never be free.

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But I remember I was born with a mission,

That had a vision,

It also had a goalpost,

And it also had the foremost.

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But then what went wrong?

That soon after I was born,

My mission changed and vision altered,

Goalpost shifted and I somersaulted.

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Perhaps, in the windings of life,

Attractions were galore,

Where arrogance was available even in a road side store,

And where ego had become the dubious cynosure.

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Slowly, all these had become the handy recipes for success,

Where, show off had become the order of the day,

Humbleness had become the emblem of the frail,

And politeness the solemn disgrace.

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So, to stay the course,

 I deviated from my umbilical holds,

To become that fashionable rogue,

Where, I too, cheated to the fore,

And intimidated others, galore.

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One day I met God while walking on the road,

He asked,

Son! How are you?

I replied,

Who are you?

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He said,

Well I’m God your creator,

I replied,

But you’re quite a traitor,

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In utter disbelief,

He asked why?

I said because you belied,

About the journey of life,

By selling me the futile.

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But how?

Asked God,

I said,

Where, it was arrogance you gave me some great mission,

Where, it was ego you gave me some stupid vision,

And where it was show off you gave me that wide goalpost.

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But all that wasn’t required,

To rise higher,

So I changed my fire,

And with that my sire.

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But son I had sent you to there,

For everyone’s welfare,

But instead of welfare,

You became a malware,

And what will God do,

If it has sons like you?

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That is your problem God,

If men can’t do what you want them to do,

Go create some other species,

That will help you chase,

Your mandate that is not easy.

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Hold on my son,

Don’t throw such a referendum,

Life for you has just begun,

So, let me give you an ultimatum.

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Mend your ways,

And return,

To those humble and noble sways,

For you have no idea,

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Of the sum total of those stormy waves,

That will only strike you,

When you’re at the twilight of your days,

And that will be too late.

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In pursuit of wild success man has imbibed arrogance, ego and show-off leaving behind those splendid virtues of a simple lifestyle. And it is only by practice of simple habits the sum total of your life will move towards the positive side.

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

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RAHUL GANDHI AND THE LESSON FROM GITA

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That one man who follows Gita to the hilt is Rahul Gandhi. Can you imagine the amount of failures he has had in his political career? Countless! I would say. Yet he sticks to his guns which is his political career. For, he truly believes in karma alone. Where, he doesn’t look for success in his deeds.

    But, can you imagine. The manner in which. India ridicules this great young man. Even, today, with the great disaster of Uttar Pradesh tied around his neck. He was busy meeting farmers from Tamil Nadu.

    So, isn’t it amazing. The way our media and citizenry ridicules him, no end. I will withdraw this post of mine. If anyone shows me a media clip praising him for his political career until now. Yet he continues undeterred. So there is much to learn from him while in adversity.

    And last but not the least. It also speaks of we Indians and how much we practice Gita. Well if you go by this analogy. You won’t find too many Indians praising him for doing his karma alone. Rather everyone is critical and even jocular about his failures. So are we practicing Gits in the true sense?

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

POEM: THE RAT-RACE

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THE RAT- RACE

In the heat of life,

There was never a summer,

But when the heat was over,

Only the winter got closer.

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In my hectic life,

I was always uptight,

About things that mattered,

And also about things that didn’t matter.

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In the days of heat,

Life was like a marathon race,

Where some pseudo brainwaves,

Had termed it as a rat race.

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One initially thought,

It’s a onetime race,

But sadly, it turned out to be,

A lifetime of a race.

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Where, the rats were surprised,

That it was some enterprise,

Where man stole the race,

And made it into a rat race,

And that too, without their gaze.

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It all started well,

Like the string of jingle bells,

But soon the jingle was over,

And you were left as a rover.

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There was so much to do,

And so much to improve,

Where I had my own dreams,

To brew and stew,

Until one day I realised,

I had a career to pursue.

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Between the race and career,

Man had no breather,

Soon he became a teaser,

And with that a big schemer.

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That resulted in endless pursuits,

And pointless disputes,

Bereft of generosity,

And full of ferocity,

Where humans were estranged,

And demons were ordained.

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From exhaustive to repetitive lifestyle,

To loads of competition,

Until one day I realised,

Sanity was about to get paralysed.

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As the stance of life was changing,

Where heat was evaporating,

Where winter was upstaging,

Grace was receding,

And where time was forsaking.

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Is when I asked the creator,

What happens now?

When heat becomes cold,

Summer becomes winter,

Hectic become skeptic,

And I become rustic.

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Nothing said the creator,

As good sense of life is always greater,

Then the rat race,

That happens to be a crater,

And in disguise a hater.

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So come out of it,

To live in the winter,

That also has a summer,

That also has a shelter.

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For rat race is just a phase,

And phase should not be a craze,

And the ultimate is encased,

In the wisdom of faith.

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Share if you like it

By Kamlesh Tripathi

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

         Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

         IFSC code: BKID0006805

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THE GOOD MAN

Copyright@shravancharitymission

Kamlesh Tripathi

 

 

    Once upon a time there lived a rich person who had built a huge temple in his hometown. And to service the temple he had also kept one poojari, to perform the daily puja. To, meet the expenses of the temple, he had even transferred his assets, such as land, farm and even his orchards in its name. He had done such a meticulous planning and organized the whole thing in such a manner. That, for all the devotees coming to the temple; those who were hungry or in pain, or any other person who was poor or even a sadhu (sage) could have, stayed there for a couple of days. He could have eaten the prasad from the temple as his meal. And after putting all these wonderful ideas in place, he was now on the lookout for a manager. Who could handle the temple property honestly along with its systems and procedures in an efficient manner.

    Many candidates came to the him for the job. They all knew. That if they are selected as the manager of the temple. They will get a good salary. But the rich man rejected everyone. He told them—he required only a good man. And, that, he’ll be able to find one himself.

    On this unbecoming behavior of the rich person, people starting abusing and cursing him discreetly. Some even started calling him simpleton and mad. But, the rich man did not pay any heed to what anyone said. When the temple used to open in the morning and people used to line up for darshan. He used to climb up to the terrace. From where, he used to quietly watch all the devotees who came for darshan. One day a simple looking person came to the temple. His clothes were torn and dirty. He didn’t appear to be well educated. He had his darshan after which he was about to leave. When the rich man called him to his house and asked—‘Sir! would you like to work as the manager of this temple?’

    The man was rather surprised. He said—‘I’m not very educated. So, I, really don’t know, how I’ll be able to handle the management of this huge temple?’

    Rich man said—‘I don’t want a very educated manager either. I’m just looking for a good man. Who could become the manager of this temple.’

    The man politely replied—‘My dear brother. In this sea of human beings around the temple, what made you feel. That I am the sole good man around?’

    Rich man mildly elucidated—‘I know you are a good man, because this pathway to the temple had a pointed edge of a stone jutting out. And for many a days now, I was watching it. Many people had hurt themselves and some even fell because of it. Then they used to get up and just go away. But you were different. You were not hurt with that stone. Yet, considering, someone else might get hurt. You decided to pull it out. I was watching you, when you called for the shovel from my labour. Only to take the trouble of digging that stone out. Thereafter, you leveled the area for others comfort and safety.

       The man responded—‘but that is nothing. In fact, it is every man’s duty to remove thorns, pebbles and even stones, stuck in the ground that might hurt someone else.’

    To which the Rich man confided—‘people who are clear about their duties and also believe in performing it, alone are good men.’

    The man was thus appointed the manager of the temple. Where, the rich man was not wrong, because he administered the temple in a very efficient manner.

Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

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HELP DOESN’T HAVE A COLOUR OR A RELIGION.

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

 

    Just as terrorism—Help, too, doesn’t have a religion. It can come from any corner. But unlike terrorism, that kills. Timely help sustains life. I had once gone to a hospital in Delhi. To meet parents of some poor young children who were suffering from cancer. The drill was to provide them with direct financial support, for treatment.

    In all we had met about ten children and their parents in the hospital. Our NGO decided to support three out of them. Based on, certain illness criticalities, doctor’s recommendation and the budget available with us. Out of the three. One child happened to be from Sopore in J&K. His name was Abdul. His father’s name was Fareed. Who, happened to be a small-time shopkeeper with a paltry livelihood. Abdul was suffering from cancer for the last one year. And, during that period Fareed had exhausted all his savings. Although, he had received timely aid from the government. But that too had been gradually spent. Slowly the resources were receding, while the treatment was still in full flow.

    When I met this bright child Abdul. I found him in an animated mood. As he was talking to his mother in Sopore over phone. He had come to Delhi for treatment without her. I spent some time understanding the challenges of Fareed. Then decided to give him the good news of our supporting his son’s treatment. Up to a certain level. But he didn’t sound enthused about it.

    First, I thought he hasn’t understood me. So, I repeated what I had told him earlier. This time I spoke in Hindi. But still his reaction was not at all cheerful. I then specifically enquired, if he had understood what I had said. To which he gave me this shocking reply. ‘Janab, I have understood what you’ve said. You want to pay for my son’s treatment. But yours is a Hindu NGO. So, how can I accept money from your Trust. That too for my son’s treatment? It might not cure him at all, and Allah won’t spare me.’

    For a moment I was shocked. I didn’t know how to react. Does religion lay down crude boundaries at such junctures? I thought dismally. But without being deterred. I opened my bag and wrote a cheque, and handed it over to him.

    He held the cheque and looked at it morosely. I patted his back a couple of times. When his eyes went moist. Perhaps, he was at a break point. Where, on one end, was the health of his son and the mounting expenses because of that, and on the other, were his own self created radical diktats. Which, he was trying to blame it upon his religion.

    I said, ‘Fareed Bhai this cheque is neither Hindu nor Muslim. It’s only a piece of paper from Upparwala, for your son. So utilize it.’ And then I moved out.

    After the episode. A couple of months had passed. But that cheque never came to our account for debit. It was only when the cheque was about to expire. I received a text message from the bank debiting it to our account.

    And upon reading the text message. I felt nice. Not because Hindu money had helped a Muslim. But, because Abdul had realized. That help has no religion or face. It is infinite and can come from any corner of the world. And it is absolutely divine to take help. But the source has to be right.

It is a true story. Names and location are fictitious.

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POEM: MY HEART–MY JESUS OF TIMES

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

 

MY HEART—MY JESUS OF TIMES

In the eternity of lifetime,

There was seldom a downtime,

When the kind heart stopped blessing,

And the cunning tongue stopped maligning.

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For heart was naïve,

Heart was kind,

And it was caring and forgiving,

Just like the Jesus of times,

But it had a straight tongue,

To remind about tough times and crimes.

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Where the cunning tongue was sweet but vicious,

And had imbibed all the wickedness of times,

Just like the serenade with unheard rhymes,

And had a cunning mind,

That wanted to outlast the Jesus of times.

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And all along in life,

When the cunning tongue was in dungeons,

Kind heart kept helping,

Kept aiding,

Kept forgiving,

Which the maligning tongue, kept loving,

In the happenings of bad times.

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But even with all the rapturous showers in life.

Tongue had its own designs,

Of the wretched kind,

And so,

Tongue kept cribbing,

Kept maligning,

The Jesus of times.

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But kind heart kept overlooking,

Kept forgiving and forgetting,

Cunning tongue’s venomous onslaught,

That lasted an eon of time.

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And for the Jesus of times,

It was only heartfelt regrets,

That it had a heart of gold,

Laced with a straight tongue,

Not appreciated by times.

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Even when it spoke for values,

For goodness,

And for virtues,

But now time was running out.

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And kind heart had nowhere to go,

With the carcass of his straight tongue,

When the Jesus within said.

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Fear not my child,

For you’re not as wild,

And your gracious tongue will be understood,

Only by a few,

In these dark and squalid ravines.

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So come with me son,

Leaving behind that maligning tongue,

To its audience.

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And remember,

What you sow you reap,

And so,

Wait for the day

When the cunning tongue face-offs with a cunning heart.

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DOCTRINE OF KARMA AND REINCARNATION

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

 

    Why do Hindus believe in these two doctrines? One being karma and the other being reincarnation. Because these doctrines not only explain the unusual occurrences logically. They also shed light on day-to-day events of life. Hindus do not consider life and death to be mutually exclusive. But intertwined and inseparable. Like the two sides of the same coin. If there are disparities between two individuals at the time of birth, and if we can see these disparities. Then the cause for these disparities must have preceded their birth.

  • Karma: The word karma means “action.” In accordance with the cosmic laws of karma. Each individual reaps the fruits of his actions, performed in this lifetime or in former lives. This logically explains the disparities in creation, between various individuals, environments and situations. No deed, small or great, good or bad, can be without an effect—this essentially is the law of karma, the law of casualty. In fact one begins to feel as if Newton’s 3rd law of motion—‘to every action there is an equal and opposite reaction’ was drawn out of the doctrine of karma.
  • Karma is no fate. Fate implies helplessness in a human being, to determine his own destiny. The law of karma states that the individual is the creator of his own destiny, because his conscious choices in life determines his actions and the fruits thereof.
  • Reincarnation: Hindus believe that the jiva, or the individual being, travels from life to life. Acquiring bodies and environments best suited to exhaust his vasanas (vices) or innate tendencies that are expressed as desires, emotions, and actions. The exhaustion of vasanas allows the jiva to reach his ultimate goal: complete freedom from the cycle of birth and death through the realization of his true nature as the Self, or Brahman.

—synopsis from a book on Hinduism—by Chinmaya Mission Trust—

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