<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32434539</id><updated>2012-02-16T13:22:18.696+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Mouna</title><subtitle type='html'>Life is beautiful... Every moment... Live it today before it passes you by!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Nayana Thara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32434539.post-4939723615953195857</id><published>2012-01-16T11:04:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-16T11:04:22.175+05:30</updated><title type='text'>[Emptiness... Nothingness... Love...] December 20, 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;What You are...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of becoming someone and Some Body,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of doing something,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of being useful to someone,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of being someone else,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is even a thought of ending life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of lighting and watching the smoke go by,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of hiding the my outer appearances,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;And there is a thought saying who are you to catch these thoughts and make it your own?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;Then I say to thee, what am I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;I am not the thought which often comes and goes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;And which pulls me away,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;Though they come and go... quietly I know these belong to someone else,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;And I have captured them, stolen them, borrowed them and even have given it my name. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;What sort of thought fills, the holes created by me, is my choice;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;Thought is an energy that fills into any empty space.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;Thought is a dimension that exists in a dimension which is serene,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of creation,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of manifestation,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of improving,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of choosing the path,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of being,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of feeling empty nothingness,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of being connected,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a thought of my love and being in love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is a serious need to be these thoughts,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;I am not the thought;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;I know I cannot be,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There was a thought before I was born,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;And the thought was nothing but the emptiness itself.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;But the thought is becoming me is more than ever;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;What am I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;If I say, I am emptiness, then I know not what it means;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;If I say, I am nothingness, then I know not what it means;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;If I say, I am creation, then I know not what it means;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;If I say, I am love, then I know not what it means;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;If I say, I am you, then I know not what you are;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;Show me what you are?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;I need to see you;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;I need to feel you;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;I need to hear you;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;I need to understand you;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is an ‘I’ in me;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;In you there is no you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;When you show me who you are;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;When you show me what you feel like;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;When you show me how to understand you;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;Only then can I free me;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;There is no need to seek for anything;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;And there is no you or me;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;But only Creation;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;Only Emptiness;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;Only Nothingness;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span class="s1"&gt;And only Love in completeness;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32434539-4939723615953195857?l=holymouna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/4939723615953195857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/4939723615953195857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/2012/01/emptiness-nothingness-love-december-20.html' title='[Emptiness... Nothingness... Love...] December 20, 2010'/><author><name>Nayana Thara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32434539.post-4750169618119734584</id><published>2012-01-13T11:47:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-13T11:47:09.652+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Masking on Invisibility Cloak</title><content type='html'>Inside, a little soul is deep in thought to find the meaning of life. A smile spreads on her lips as she remembers one of her joyous moment. As the air circulates from the wings of the fan, she begins to wonder, "Will i ever find someone who will totally understand me?". And settles down to take a closer look outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside, a winter breeze makes the leaves in my garden - dance in its invisibility cloak. One moment there is calm contemplation of the trees exposed to a light - sun light. The next moment, they all catch the quiet dance of my garden leaves and decide to play along to the tunes in the invisibility cloak. As the moment comes closer to stillness, they all stop to take a closer look inside at the little girl. They think to themselves, "Is she doing all this to us, or are we the ones doing this to her? I guess, we ll never know".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32434539-4750169618119734584?l=holymouna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/4750169618119734584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/4750169618119734584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/2012/01/masking-on-invisibility-cloak.html' title='Masking on Invisibility Cloak'/><author><name>Nayana Thara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32434539.post-1059765955635507832</id><published>2012-01-13T11:43:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-13T11:43:42.843+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Joyful day - Comforting night</title><content type='html'>Outside, the sun is joyful as the day ends, gentle breeze makes way toward me through the gaps in the trees creating a rustle; it was though their whispered secret was revealed. A mother bird nuzzles closer toward her chicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside, the lit tube-light spreads a smile on a little girl, the wind runs through the gaps in her hair causing a swishing noises, she nuzzles slowly towards her mother's ears, making a wall with her hand on the mouth. A giggle begins to form a comforting bond.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32434539-1059765955635507832?l=holymouna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/1059765955635507832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/1059765955635507832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/2012/01/joyful-day-comforting-night.html' title='Joyful day - Comforting night'/><author><name>Nayana Thara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32434539.post-2225468688102740602</id><published>2011-11-07T18:52:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-12T10:27:14.390+05:30</updated><title type='text'>SomeOne Told Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;(Following is a small autobiography of all the different little parts inside of me discussing to get an understanding of life in general, with a light hearted approach towards the end.  “Someone told me” quotes are not real person but one of the part inside of me speaking its understanding of life.  Towards the end of page 3, I have quoted my understanding of life based on the discussion from all the little angels inside of me.  Read on to get an understanding into self or read on for just the fun of it.  Happy reading. Oh! And the Gujarati language may not be accurately used; so please excuse the grammar and inappropriate use of words)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Someone told me that life is one big ball of yarn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;An old lady is holding this ball of yarn in her hands.  Feeling the softness and admiring the colour of the yarn.  Wondering what she can create out of this?  Suddenly a name pops into her head and a picture also to go with this name.  She is thinking of her favourite granddaughter.  And she looks at the yarn and says to herself, “this little precious thing can knit one pair of mittens for my little granddaughter.”  As she is imagining these little mittens on her granddaughter’s hands, she pulls out the right sized needles and sets down to knit.  The old lady is so full of love within this thought and within this universal love which she is feeling through knitting a pair of mittens for her granddaughter that she has become an expression of love.  Along with her the ball of yarn too has become an expression of love.  The yarn unites itself into knots after knots as she knits away second after second and minute after minute.  Each and every knot contains a story within the story.  Each and every inch of the yarn contains the moment of silence knitted by this expression of love.  There is a beginning and there is an end.  Finally, the end is near.  Life or the ball of yarn as we know it is come to an end; an end well enjoyed; an end well lived; an end of expression and a beginning of another; an end of something so precious and a precious memorable beginning.  It was an end for the yarn and a beginning for these pair of mittens.  The yarn still lives but not as a yarn but in a different form.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Someone told me that life is one new big spoon.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;An old man is holding this new big spoon in his hand as he is having his dinner that night.  Feeling the coolness of the metal and feeling the shape as it makes contact with his skin.  He takes the first bite into the dish he has prepared, which is steaming hot.  As the spoon and the dish merge in his mouth and mixes with his saliva.  He becomes nostalgic and in his mind a picture appears vividly with all the colours and with all its clarity.  It is a picture of his mother feeding him the very same dish when he was just 4 years old; conveying that love and that bond which he had not experienced in a very long time.  Each and every bite becomes more nourishing.  Each and every spoonful becomes more enhanced.  There comes the end.  It is the end of the act of eating.  But it is neither the end for the dish nor the end for the spoon.  Life or The spoon continues her journey weaving stories after stories into every memorable bite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Someone told me that life is one big white cloud.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A big white cloud appears on the big blue sky.  As it appears, people all around look up into the sky.  Someone exclaims, “Oh! Look, how pretty that is.”  Soaring through the space up above is the big blue skies down below is this beautiful earth with all those beings and in between are those other beings fly around with their friends and family.  Life or that big white cloud just exists.  The cloud just watches you in the act that’s all.  It is totally your perception about how you see the cloud.  The cloud is just happening and just being there.  The cloud shows itself in different forms and in different colour, shape and size.  It is again your perception of how you see and feel about it.  A cloud is just water in gaseous state; it is just vapour in high energy state.  It soon disappears too.  And another one forms.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Someone told me that life is one green leaf.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There is that one little tiny green dot that appears at the edge of the branch of a tree.  Initially, it is only a green dot.  Delicate and tender like us when we are born.  As days go by it becomes bigger slowly, its veins develop.  Life or A leaf is made of many layers.  Each one unfolds itself little by little with its own sweet way of sermonizing.  It is one of the powerhouses for the tree; major source of energy; which comes in various forms to suit different needs in different climatic conditions.  One day the leaf begins to change its colour becomes separated from the tree and further changes its colour and then gets mixed up into the soil below and takes a different form of its own, starting a new journey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Someone told me that life is one yellow flower.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Colour so perfect; the flower so perfect; beauty beyond the words can express or the mind can express; love so pure and tender; existence like it has every right to exist.  Beyond the thorns, smoke, the pollution and the city noise, lays a yellow flower so pure and tender that you need an eye to see what you see; you need a nose to smell what you smell; you need a heart to express what you feel.  You can use it to decorate your every possession and use it to celebrate every occasion.  The flower still connected to the plant has a lot longer life than the one disconnected.  Yet the yellow colour has the energy of the sun itself in it; providing all the resources you need for this lifetime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Someone told me that life is one small ant.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Life within the life of a small ant; life or a small ant goes through many stages.  In the beginning it is just oval and tiny; then it has a shape of a worm-like larva with no eyes and no legs and they shed their skin many times as they increase in size.  Then after a certain time it starts to spin a cocoon around itself, during this time the form changes and emerges in an adult ant form.  Life within the life has a life of its own; form goes on changing and so does life.  To an ant everything is gigantic and colossal; so full of energy and instinctive and survival and the moment that it can haul up ten to fifty time its own weight.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;All these angels have described their perception of life in such a poetic way that my perception of life enlarged and enhanced itself to a different level.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For me life is a big ball of yarn which is soft, radiant, an expression of love itself, story with a moral within those knots. If I were a kitten I would never get tired of playing with that ball of yarn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For me life is a new big spoon which is full of nourishment and motherly love where every bite is memorable and cherishing.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For me life is a big white cloud which exists and allows you to become the artist where you get to choose the shape, colour and size; you get to choose where and how to place it; choose it carefully and quickly before it disappears.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For me life is a green leaf though small, delicate and tender has some very powerful lessons to teach and a major source of energy itself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For me life is a yellow flower; a beauty beyond expression.  You need inner sensory organs to view life.  You can have every material possession under the sun and you can celebrate any occasion you choose.  All this can be a way of living as long as you are connected to your roots.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And for me life is a small ant; an ant is small but not the perception; life may be small but in it there can be colossal achievements one can picture and have.  All you need is the energy, instinct and survival in the moment and ability to carry fifty times the power. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And ultimately, life is nothing serious… another angel stepped up and said, “You know life is just one big pizza.”  “How so?” said I.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Quite simple really, picture your self in Italy; a typical Italian household.  The husband walks into the house from a very tiring day at the restaurant where he works.  Asks his wife, “Dhear, whath is for dhinner thonighth?” And the wife, quite simply replies, “Oh! Darling… aaje hoon tari mate pijja banawi che, khaeese?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The husband after hearing this is quiet and ponders…  “Aaj thepla khane ka bohut dil kar raha hai.  Use kaise bataoon.”  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;“Aaj hoon thepla khaeese… mane pijja nathi khaoo”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So you see life is just one big pizza and not a thepla.  Everyday is a pizza day in Italy and a thepla day in Gujarat.  But it can’t be a thepla day in Italy and a pizza day in Gujarat.  That would be just so not life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I said, “But wait a minute now; what are you saying? And why are they speaking in Gujarati and Hindi instead of Italian?  I mean aren’t they Italians?  And what does an Italian know about a thepla.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;“That’s right they are Italian’s and they are talking in Gujarati and Hindi.  This is exactly what I intend to communicate; don’t take the language seriously nor the dish seriously.  If you start adding your well formed meaning to every situation in life and then you will always be stuck understanding everything rather than enjoying it.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Most importantly, it does not matter what life is and trying to understand it and all the hypothetical stuff that’s there in the past 4 pages.  The important thing is it is time to enjoy.  Ha! Ha!  Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32434539-2225468688102740602?l=holymouna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/2225468688102740602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/2225468688102740602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/2011/11/someone-told-me.html' title='SomeOne Told Me'/><author><name>Nayana Thara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32434539.post-7506275427208423124</id><published>2009-07-22T16:24:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-07-22T16:42:49.331+05:30</updated><title type='text'>In Silence</title><content type='html'>After a long time I decided to be in silence...&lt;br /&gt;For those were the words which I felt comfortable with...&lt;br /&gt;Peace, Quiet and Solitude;&lt;br /&gt;Like I haven't met them in a long time...&lt;br /&gt;Felt good to meet them for they are my best friends...&lt;br /&gt;I thought, "I have lost them";&lt;br /&gt;I longed for them...&lt;br /&gt;I searched for them everywhere...&lt;br /&gt;Even in the silent retreat...&lt;br /&gt;I found them nowhere...&lt;br /&gt;I cried and hauled in sorrow; sat down with a deep longing to be with them...&lt;br /&gt;For a long time I sat in nothingness...&lt;br /&gt;"Surprise!", they screamed...&lt;br /&gt;"Whoa!", I exclaimed...&lt;br /&gt;They were all right here with me in the now;&lt;br /&gt;Peace, Quiet and Solitude;&lt;br /&gt;"Where were you all?", i asked, "I thought I had lost you forever..."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh! No", they said, "We were hiding inside you and wanted to surprise you.  We love you so much that we thought of playing with you and Oh! what fun we had..."&lt;br /&gt;We all giggled and laughed together and hugged each other and then i found a new friend; "Stillness"...&lt;br /&gt;"Oh! Another surprise", I said and cried and hauled with joy...&lt;br /&gt;What a day it was... Peace, Quiet, Solitude and now Stillness too...&lt;br /&gt;In silence...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32434539-7506275427208423124?l=holymouna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/7506275427208423124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/7506275427208423124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/2009/07/in-silence.html' title='In Silence'/><author><name>Nayana Thara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32434539.post-116724497121869709</id><published>2006-12-28T00:10:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-12-28T00:12:51.233+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Call it God or call it Universe</title><content type='html'>For ages man has created this beautiful word called GOD.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;From my childhood I have been curious about this word called GOD.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What is it? Do those idols, we see in temples, churches etc. come alive some place else?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Is it a person like anyone of us?    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It reminds me of this song, “What if god was one of us? Just a stranger on the bus. Trying to make his way home…” so it goes on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am sure just like the person who wrote this song all of you out there are also in search of GOD.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thinking all sorts of possibilities possible&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Have you ever thought why man created this word called GOD?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yes, why? Because at some point Adam and Eve wanted more things in life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We all want more things in life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We want money, cars, jewellery, house, new gadgets, job, love, family, friends, peace, etc. etc. So, how to get them all?&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I bet back in time during the stone age, if man wanted something all he would do was spread out his hands and look up to the sky and ask.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I came across a book by name “Mutant message down under”; it is about the natives in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Australia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; called the “Aborigines”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are a nomadic tribe and they do not carry their food or bedding or even pots or pans and not even water.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They believe that whenever they are hungry or thirsty the universe provides them with it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And they believe that the universe has already decided the food for them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Miraculously in this book wherever they halt, some or the other animals appear as their food.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And the tribe believes that the animals and plants themselves choose to be sacrificed and provide as food for them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are thirsty and the universe shows them the way they can get their water. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As man progressed from the Stone Age, he felt the need to be a little more creative and said to himself, “I will make an idol and ask the same what I have been asking the universe.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And in that case this idol is my universe”. And then he got a little more creative and started giving it different shapes and sizes and started to even attach stories to it based on his experiences.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then at large he started to call it GOD.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then he started to feel this powerful idol cannot be placed anywhere and cannot let anyone stamp it or disrespect it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Because it is giving him what he wanted.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So then the creation of temples, churches, mosques, gurudwaras, synagogues etc. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I guess what I am saying is call it GOD or call it UNIVERSE; it is all one and the same.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You will get all that you want.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No, of course not.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You don’t have to believe in what I am saying.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You can still call it God and ask whatever you want.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Either way it works.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But wait a minute, whatever you ask or whoever you ask, once you have received it, be in the gratitude for it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thank the universe at large for what you have received.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That is what we do with GODS right.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32434539-116724497121869709?l=holymouna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/feeds/116724497121869709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/2006/12/call-it-god-or-call-it-universe.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/116724497121869709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32434539/posts/default/116724497121869709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holymouna.blogspot.com/2006/12/call-it-god-or-call-it-universe.html' title='Call it God or call it Universe'/><author><name>Nayana Thara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
