“If your heart is clean, nothing happens.”

This is a quote from the novel-adapted movie "City of Joy". I chanted it everyday in India, in the hope of finding strength to deal with conditions and circumstances I never expected.

Yet, it wasn't just fighting things off. The entire month was a spiritual journey from my eyes to my soul, walking on a wandering track through thick foliage and entangled vines.

This post documents my struggle to victory.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1)

Twists and turns of the wondrous maze
Shelter from trails set ablaze
Still and dry is the common-man’s gaze
Where flies form the screen of haze

Milky-white drains greet the day
Temple’s closed, no need to pray
Children roam in sweaty flesh
Dancing to music that blasts away

Darkness in Daylight, Peace in Haste,
Behold, tis' the Kingdom’s song of Praise!

(2)

忘了眼泪的滋味，忘了心酸的甜美，
只知味蕾的疲惫，还有一片漆黑。
痛恨自己，成了心的盗贼，
在天神与大地的恩赐面前，颓唐残废。

(3)

The visits to the Lord Shiva statue, Lord Hanuman temple and Qutb-Minar were supposed to be spiritual, but being a tourist amidst the wave of afternoon heat meant more seeing with the eyes than the heart. Fortunately, the squirrels in their brown stripes and furry tales came to my rescue with their acrobatic postures and the adorable munch-munch action on two feet. As Lucy and I sat on a pasture chatting, I noticed a crow that flew to and fro, each time getting low to brush with its wings a wild dog that had entered its territory. 6 to 7 times it did this, before the dog finally decided to retreat. I’ve never derived so much pleasure from watching small animals. It was all part of the “Zen” that I’m unable to put into words.

Yet, seeing the crows sail high in the air, their extended wings still as they flowed in circles, I couldn’t help but feel like that solitary bird flapping its wings really hard, not knowing where I fit in or where I’m headed to. The agony of losing myself by accident is just proving hard to endure.

(4)

这是一个连蚂蚁都争着展现自我存在的世界，是一片无情被爱消解的田地。

苍蝇吮吸着汗水，替不排斥它的人搔痒。

人，已忘了自己是人。

万紫千红的舞蹈中，一只乌鸦和雪白的牛对上了眼。

跛脚的流浪狗路过其间，伴随旋律团团起舞。

在这单纯里，我却找不到一丝的诗心。在现实与欲求之间，看到了无法跨越的界域。

于是，无所谓神圣与洁净，

只有妥协与哀怨，无奈与怜悯。

也许，上帝的救赎，在于将魔鬼的权杖化为天神的仙棒，

学会在脚板的亲吻中将大地置入心灵，

于是非纠缠的麻木中，找回真实的自己。

(5)

A short power cut on Wednesday night resulted in us having to light Diwali candles, and in all silence the flame with its ring of glory and thousand rays seemed holy to the peaceful mind. Thursday’s rain made all of us wet, but it was such weather which ironically bought self-realization back again. As raindrops pattered and dark clouds loomed, the air that had been sultry for days felt refreshing. There were mixed feelings as to whether the rain was a blessing or disaster, but to me these three weeks in India have proven to me that life is like the yin-yang, with the good in the bad and vice-versa. After all, it is how the heart perceives the world.

(6)

膏火聃定的耗亡
带着久违甘露的舒爽
雨滴落地的清脆
伴随光环的万翦辉煌

潮湿浇熄不了世间的冥火，并存是上苍眷顾的最佳证明。

(7)

Sometimes, we adults think we have the answers to everything. In actual fact, even toddlers can give us a dose of much-needed inspiration at times.

This morning, Firdaush was telling me about what Komal (Naresh’s second daughter) did at the crèche yesterday. A little boy started crying after his father left him at school. Seeing this, Komal went over and tried to wipe the boy’s tears with her hands. When that didn’t work, she began patting the boy’s head like a big sister. The comforting went on for 15 minutes, but the boy didn’t stop. At last, Komal sat beside him and started crying with him. That did wonders – the boy stopped crying, and Komal dried her tears too. That brought a sense of warmth to my stale heart, and a smile that was truly radiated from within. Gomal’s bright eyes filled with curiosity and innocence made me realize what I was missing out in these past 2 weeks.

I had come to India in the hope of finding spiritual inspiration and perhaps even enlightenment, yet all I experienced was a dead soul amidst the daily buzz and “cultural immersion”. In reality, God has been everywhere around, in the winds of the morning, the rustle of the leaves, the colourful sarees, the buffalos on the streets, the crows and pigeons, the partying flies, the filth of the slums, the stares of the locals, and most importantly, the laughter and tears of all the children I have come across. In trying to do “something constructive” and paying too much focus on the language barrier, I’ve neglected the fact that baby angels are valued for their purity (even innocent evil), and teachers appreciate it when I push on with them everyday in the hot and stuffy room when the electricity gets cut, drowning in my own sweat without any complaints.

For a moment it felt like I was the protagonist in Tagore’s Gantajali – the one who sought Him but couldn’t find him anywhere, and eventually found it in the workers and the stone cutters. India’s poetic appeal – and perhaps its spirituality- is that beauty in the ugliest or most trivial of reality, under the harshest circumstances.

(8)

Night in Delhi is really heart-touching, especially seeing families sitting around, children playing together in orange light, and people on the streets busying themselves in a leisurely mood. As we came to a T-junction, there was this white buffalo which was caressing a dog with its neck, and the dog enjoying the company of the former. With white signifying purity and the buffalo being an animal sacred in Hindu religion, the scene before my eyes demonstrated what true love is all about: overcoming impossibility. As the clubs closed and the roadside sellers pushed their carts with that trademark green neon-light home at midnight, Delhi came to its temporal peace, which soothed the mind cooped up in haste and work all day long.

(9)

As golden rays beat on pools of sewage water and a fine stream of sacred dust snaked across the uneven roads, I felt as ease with the hot wind that puffed up the stained sleeve of my white shirt.

India is the place one should certainly visit after opening the eyes of the heart.