Meeting His Holiness

28/10/24 1006 am. Drive back to Osho Himalaya.

I was in turmoil. The closer I got the better I felt. I found myself overthinking some decisions, but I watched.

As I waited at the last step, I found myself meditative. I peed and had water at the right times. I found my spine straight with no effort and I found fasting has helped slow my mind down. I wondered what if I fall down, I said let it be so.

The deeper I went, I understood compassion. Why it is that it is the Dalai Lama I meet today, I learned he preaches compassion. The room I live in is called Daya room.

With compassion, many walls were broken. compassion, helped me say ‘there is compassion’.

In this moment we stood up, and got in line. Here too the meditation deepened. Now we look to the left, awaiting His Holiness.

As his cart arrived a woman sang. such a sweet voice, such a quiet moment. Everything was quiet.

As he got up I saw how frail he was, tears welled up. I found myself concerned with what others will say- first it was their negative judgement, but only for a moment. This was followed by concern over how great I must be coming off.

Ignoring these and focusing on the breath, i found myself slow. Each step I felt for him, my tears flowed. How much pain he must be going through. All the imaginations of our meeting, me taking a photo with him and signing it, asking him if he met Osho, all of these were wisps. They were not there.

The khada, which I bought last minute, remained in my pocket. It was not important.

He shook my hand, and I cried. I looked into his eyes, do I wish I had looked longer? I did not do anything. He took my hand and touched it to his forehead. We remained.

Then I walked away slowly, crying. I walked to a bench and sat for some moments. I then got up and began to walk. I was not concerned this time about ‘losing’ what I felt. I called my driver.

As I walked, a friend came along and he said he was full of love. He was from Israel. He asked me questions, and I told him I am trying to become a therapist. He told me I can help many people. His friend did drama and psychology, I asked him to inform me from where.

I gifted him a photo of himself, Chaim, from Israel, on it I wrote ‘full of love’. I then asked him to click mine.

With this I felt completed. This moment is now over. Oh what a beautiful moment it was. Thank you. Happy marriage, Dear Chaim.

First baby I fed

Chandni didi’s second kid at mata ki chowki. I had accompanied the nanny to their room. The baby was on the bed and I played with her hair it was so soft! The nanny was feeding her then and I asked if iIcan and then I fed her and man babies are so tiny wow. their nails are also tiny and the noises they make are very cute. She made eye contact with me and I just felt happiness and joy for her. I hope she grows up well adjusted and at peace. I am glad I did this.

Ouchies

10/5/24

Okay

Felt like dropping

Great conflict

Hated mother for not outright agreeing. Then hated her for not disagreeing. Spoke, found perhaps Durga.

Brother

How long to keep this pain. What is this. You want to get out without going fully in.

She stood you up

Even now she does not call back.

SHE DOESN’T CARE. CHILL.

Yet how will the mind accept it is hurt. The heart is hurt. It is okay, I look for expression.

This morning, I felt it better to be hurt and create art than to chase resolution like a dog.
I run run run.

Ew.

Man.

Frozen vulnerability

I have been feeling a dark part come out. It is making me anxious. Yesterday, my friends and I were to go for a manicure, but I was overcome with this almost hypnotic movement of saying I want to skip and getting into bed. Here I remained. My friends seemed upset at first. I am used to this, it is then followed by guilt. This happened on my birthday as well. It is such a paralysing dissonance, part of me feels like being in bed and the other feels pressure to go out and be there for people.

This time, I tried to get out. I couldn’t move. My friends were joking, I then told them I cannot move. Then my body kept getting tenser and tenser. I felt locked and that I am faking it, but I couldn’t move. My friends tried to move me, my hands were cold. Arjun then swept my legs on the bed and covered me with a blanket. I shut my eyes, my grip tightened at my chest, left a nail mark. Eventually, tears flowed out of my tightly shut eyes, my hands were vibrating. In the past, I have found myself faking it for attention, it is a never ending debate. This time, I learned to express. I did not force myself to frown. When a funny thought came, I laughed. I felt vulnerable. I felt ok. My friends asked if I was cold, I said tension.

Tears came. I felt I should flow into it. I felt I stopped myself shorts hat I could have gotten more out of this. How strange.

Then I began to loosen. My friends were very sympathetic. I felt comfortable. I am glad I did this.

Sannyas

There came a point last night, an urge to leave everything overcame me. In this recognised something wonderful, that the only reason I exist, is for my parents. It was clear to me that when they pass, I shall pass as well. I shall no more associate with the world, they are the last remaining part of my identity.

‘But’ I asked ‘Is this not attachment?’ Indeed it is. It is an attachment, but I am a gracious God. I shall let him have this, for if I were to make him sacrifice, my love will not be conditional. His parents are the only things he loves, he is attached to. If he were to even try letting them go, it would not sit, for it is simply not required. The heart knows which pains are necessary. To those, it complies and surrenders. Try to force pain unto your heart, you will suffer needlessly.

So I enjoy this final bond. I love them beyond life itself. I love them to the point that I am willing to remain, suffering, attached. I live to serve them, take them wherever they wish. To be with them is my final desire. All else shall fall in place.

Let me be a good son.

So blessed I am for them. That I get to realise this bond I have. Whether they see it or not, I keep it and this proves its reality. Unconditionality. It is my desire to travel with my father. It is my desire to create with my mother. After them, I do not want this. All of this is only a tool to sculpt a life with them. After them, I have no need for these tools. I can let go and be one.

Does this mean death? No, it means rebirth.

My brother, what of him? He is the last of us. I know not what he means to me yet.

This is the second time sannyas has come, only to be halted by thoughts of my parents. This link will automatically go, with ease, as they pass.

Coffee

Coffee is getting me too high

I feel good. I feel energised against my will in a way.How do I feel about this? I don’t know. But I love being a person who has abstained so much that even coffee is getting him high.

Wants are fickle, do not assume they will remain, write them down!

Ode to a mosquito

To the mosquito that woke me up

Even though in the present moment I found you annoying beyond reproach, the fact that you kept buzzing from behind me instead of in front making it even worse, you have woken me up better than any alarm clock could have. For this feeling of irritation would have been there regardless if you woke me up or the clock. Except, I could have shut the clock off. Seeing that my dream itself told me to reclaim time, I assume it means waking up early. This is what I manifested too.  I think the end for my slump lies in me waking up early as before and doing pranayama.

Thus you have started me on the first day of my journey. I hope it goes well, and I wake up early tomorrow as well. I would like too; as this is a peaceful time and I need to be fully alone with my thoughts now.

I also gained an idea for a reel where I react to your buzzing by pulling out guns and friends with guns and shooting at you. I found it funny in my imagination. I wonder how to pursue it. If I say I want to be an artist does that not mean I ought to express my imagination. So I shouldn’t be lazy. I wonder how to sketch you, dear mosquito, as a friend.

For I see what the discerning mean by opportunity in problems, and I see an opportunity in you for waking up today. It is so random, and incredible, that you have deterred me from my bed today, for sleep is a great addiction of mine. You have deterred me by the sole virtue of annoyance. Thank you.

Time

I sat for 30 minutes, I panicked thinking they will be too long. That I shouldn’t sit still that long. then i told myself it will pass by so quickly. I have a lot of time let me be thorough. sure enough, it passed by and I still have so much to do. Let it go slowly. I filled up the time, give myself freedom. I trust myself with freedom and time. I TRUST MYSELF WITH FREEDOM AND TIME!

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

I believe in myself.

Family here, White Lab Coat there

7am home

There is so much on my mind yet I can’t think of what to write. A certain tightness in my chest takes over- could it be my body knows of some danger which my mind chooses to forget or to not feel? I think this is possible. Just this morning I saw 6 missed calls from dad at 8pm. It upset me. Firstly it upset me that he kept calling even though I sleep at 8. Perhaps he is not aware of this. Then it upset me that I feel guilt for doing my thing. What gave me responsibility was that last night as I slept, there was a moment I saw my screen and saw these missed calls. I felt I should get up and answer them. Thus I can apologise.

I have become impatient. My mind jumps from one thought/action to another.

The play scares me. There is no doubt. I am afraid of things going wrong, that I am an imposter, that nobody likes me. These are thoughts and they are valid. So many sources of information I have taken and a llama point differently- thus I must begin the process of filtering. I know Carl Jung speaks to me, so does Alan Watts. These are established names, and as Seneca would say, established names are the ones I should spent most time with. For time has tested them already, and they have lasted. Another thing. Is that the current ones have nothing new to offer, since nothing is original as it is. So why bother with them, unless they condense the knowledge of the past? But why can you not access such knowledge yourself?

It scares me that my family is here. I feel a great fight is coming, I am on edge. Dear God, please do not let me stray from the right path with my family. It feels to be in a vulnerable state. Let me be compassionate and patient with them. Let me understand them and not speak much. I feel it holds the key to my slump. Soon this play will be over.

Truth be told I am angry at my family. I am livid. I am angry that each of them lives together yet seems to be hurting. I guess ignorance is bliss. What will we do together today, for to be in an idle room with them is surely to lead to unmeant conflict.

Let us be cheerful and believe a solution will come up. Be adventurous. Have a great smile on your face and cheerfully meet the day now. Nothing can harm you, for I am here. Your intentions are good. You desire peace for your family. You desire the play to be good so everyone can have a memorable final upstage. These are not your fruits or efforts, they are mine. Treat them so, and they cannot be broken.

The world is distracting you? Well, I don’t know what else will attract you, for is not the world all there is? Even if you say God, is he not in the world too? Then what are you? You are, well, can it be expressed? I guess it will be felt. Relax now. Begin the day with a calm mind. With a composed mind.

Got some of my favourite moments

Dark clouds still pass

853 am

A dark cloud seems settled over me. A moment ago I accepted it, who does not enjoy the darkness in monsoon. I let myself go now. I let you be, little one I seem to have tormented. Oh what a brave man who lives his life without purpose. Anyone can live with purpose. It is easy. Purpose seems to be a gift to some? Well, it is until we lose it. Like the wisdom of a child. Then we must relearn. Paradise lost. Why shall I convince myself that movement is the only way to reach a goal? Who has told you this? Can simply being not take you back to a time even you do not recall? The time before time began, when these were just blurs. What does a child feel and when does he stop? What does a happy child feel and were you one? Were you a happy child with a happy childhood? Instinct says no. How do you reconcile then?

Expression feels dead. What if I keep this bottled up, the longer I keep it the better it ages. I wonder if going to therapy would waste this fuel, and shall I save it for something like music? What a strange thought- whether I should hold onto my suffering so I gain greater meaning. The moment it feels someone will read this, everything changes. Suddenly an imposter comes in place, every word is now doubtful. Is this true? Perhaps an artist’s gift lies in being certain of his expression, unmarred by judgement or self-consciousness. Such a subtle shift. It seems the identifies are different, the one outside and one within, else why would the one within be urged by the one without to alter? If it were the same person speaking, be it to a page or to thousands, what difference does an audience make?

Where is this expression? Is this not it too? It feels the most I have thought, to have caught such a subtle moment. Wow.

Silence seems to be of two kinds, one where one does not know what to say and the other when all has been said. I seem to confuse one with another. To pursue silence so I can tell myself all has been said, but it hasn’t. There is no doubt. There is so much more to be said, to be done? To be done I do not know, but said I do know. Why does not saying count as doing? They are the same thing, for thought leads to action, be it of expression or impression. Is it so that expression is saying and impression is doing, for actions leave impressions. Actions speak louder than words they say, but they speak nonetheless. So what difference is there between an action and a word, if they are not only two paths one may choose to express. I am a lazy boy, thus I choose words? No, well, I enjoy my laziness. But it is not lazy to speak. It is to say that it is lazy to use a wheelchair, but the person is unable to walk. What does it matter to you if I reach my goal by a wheelchair or by my own feet? Am I not reaching? Thus, dear friends, put down by your own words, that judge your means, that judge how you get to a point, fret not. Keep heart, for you are noble in mere effort. It is effort that counts, why?

Because effort is how we make our presence known in the world. Effort is the present moment. Achievements are either of the past or of the future. They have the temporary power to hold the present, but tell me who shall remember those achievements you once fretted over? Mine are forgotten, in these troubled times, the certificates, the people who gave them to me, are all questioned. At most, they hold value in telling me this

‘I did it before, I can do it now, I can put in effort.’ So I do not recommend tossing these certificates aside either. But know that the certificate is of effort not of achievement. Effort matters, and sometimes just breathing can be a noble effort. Do not lose heart.

For even if it is a dismal life, even if everything contradicts and contrasts, if you feel your stars led you astray, know that at least it is yours. This is my life. This is who I am. How will I know this without expression, without climbing onto the rooftops and shouting it to the world that ‘I am here, I am alive, I am trying!’. For the world must know, else this is all in your head. You fear saying the wrong things, but we must ask how often have the right things which appeared to be right led us right into trouble? To the present, there is only the thing. To the self-conscious, there is this thing as an illusion. It will drive you mad if you seek the right things to say. It may also lead to that silence, which is convinced, that speaks not not because it has said everything and rests in its own satisfaction, but because it is afraid to speak.

Are you afraid to speak? Wipe out all evil, then this fear shall leave you. Then mistakes will seem forgivable. Then you shall be humble and admit to your faults. You shall be kind even in your criticism. For people are hurt not by their mistakes but by how these mistakes are interpreted. Interpret them gently, so that others may do so too. People only need an example, and you can be one. To yourself. Dark times, they are only a test. They test whether you shall give in to evil ways, but herein lies the heroic choice. It lies in faith that the world is not lost, because I create it. Even if it be a bad world, I have the power to transform it. For this, leave the fear of death on the doorstep of the universe. Consider, is there much else to live for if your life is constrained by death. By fear of judgement too, as this death is not meant of the body, but of the soul. It is death for an artist to express and be rejected only if that rejection is taken to heart.

Though, this death also helps the heroic. This death, much like our own circles of hell, can simply mean cleansing. So even if you shall die, you will be cleansed of all that has killed you. Eventually, you will get there. That is the promise, that you will get there, and it is a promise I do not break.

White hair

I was combing my hair, and then I saw it- a white strand. People had told me earlier I had a few white hair. It hits different when you see it yourself. It is funny, stress causes white hair and white hair causes stress- one of them you can control.

I felt a rush of emotion. I felt anger at this world for leading me to this. I hated myself for being here in this place with crappy water for hair, which is so stressful and frustrating. I felt sad. Grief that I am slipping. I wonder what truly is causing my hair to grey.

Either way, is it worth it? Is all this stress I am causing to myself worth its if my hair is going grey? No. Let me relax. Let me be by myself and not put too much pressure. I feel exhausted every day nowadays. I find myself worrying about relapsing into porn, hyper obsessed with making it to 90 days without porn or masturbation. I find myself busy and hungry. I have not eaten satisfactorily in a long time. WhatsApp stresses me out. So many things stress me out. Let me be by myself today then.

Yet, it feels terrible. This emptiness. Perhaps it is boredom, I now recall it is to be overcome. Let me remain bored today. Let me not seek much pleasure or pain. For to work yourself is to seek pain. Let me be still and with my feelings. Let me only do that which must be done.

You have time. Today is a holiday. You have time, this I remind you again and again. My eyes look tired.

Haunted airports

3/2/24

Today was the first time I went through Terminal 2 of Kempegowda Airport. It is a new one, much has been said about it. Anything new seems to follow the same tapestry, all big and modern airports look the same across the world. I wonder if this sameness is nice, or is it a sign of laziness? Perhaps modernity is a common property of humanity, unbound by national borders.

I guess the sameness gives frequent travellers some stability.

As I walked through this airport, a smell triggered a memory. It reminded me of being tired, alone, stretched and traveling at night. Was this Finland or America- most likely both. It took me back to the feeling I had of travel. What a wonderful feeling, so little time to dwell. All on my own, my intellect and resources.

Still, alone. It is nice. I like such triggers. They are surprises.

Gitanjali

There is a memory that sticks around. Is this where the wish to help people began? I recall in class, around 6th grade, a classmate lay her head on the table and was crying. She was upset. I don’t recall why.

I went and spoke to her, pointing things out on her table as one would do to a child, in a hurried excited voice. She laughed.

As I look back, making someone laugh when sad is the thing I love the most.

A wish

I see myself in pain right now. Well, for my birthdays. I would like to be in a place where each one of my day has been dedicated to others. I wish to go all out for them. I recognise one aspect of my humanity, and that is my birthday.

On this day, I have often experienced a lot of pain. I am not myself. I feel too much. Especially when others try to make it nice for me.

I would like this day off. I would like for people who love me to protect me on this day. This is the day I wish to be loved and cared for without my effort. For on this day, I do not know if I can put in much effort. I get paralysed. It physically hurts.

I only hope people understand and can forgive this. I hope they can be kind to me on this day, as it is a moment of great vulnerability. This will imbue me with the energy to carry on for the rest of the year in their service.

If not, know that I am here. I’ll whisk you away from this weary world when needed, and we shall forget about it all.

Welcome Back

Relapsed, but went with it. Discovered AI Porn, and it is enlightening. Enlightening in this sense- one looks at AI porn and is certain that what he sees is computer generated, even though it mimics reality. This same perspective, when felt for the first time, can be used to see normal porn as well. In a sense, AI Porn seems to be a hardcore drug that can show you its reality, to get you off soft core drugs too. For the lucky…

For it can spell doom too. One can easily become trapped in this if there is no self-awareness at all. For whom is there no self-awareness? Is it not so that all beings are self-aware, let me speak for myself instead.

AI porn is going to be a game changer. For the first time, I see what people mean by the issues of AI, as this one impacts me personally. One can complete any fantasy, but never experience it. This brings me closer to the truth- even if all my senses are engaged, heck even if I go into another body which can live out my fantasies, the truth within me remains. It is my self. It knows this is all unreal, and thus warrants no chasing with pain. Yes, if there is enjoyment, sure, dreams are wonderful. Here, with Porn, time and time again I feel there is nothing here.

Yet, I do not condemn it . To condemn something means to shun it, avoid it, go against it. To avoid is to ignore, and to ignore is to not understand. Unless there is understanding there is no forgiveness and liberation. This is the idea of the intellectual yogi they say, using knowledge to tear through Maya. It requires depth, condemnation strips us of depth.

For so long I felt I hated being categorised, I see why. I hated my actions which would cause it, and the solution now is to remain quiet. To speak my truth to those who will perceive it, else it may cause more harm than good. Or, to do so when required, even for those who do not understand, here we must listen first and remain calm.

Then the question arises, how will such a situation be, where the truth must be spoken to one who does not perceive it? Firstly, only to an open mind can the light be shown. If you speak the truth to one who does not perceive it, then it is no longer the truth. The truth does not speak to a person, it speaks to the soul.

Thus, all is true. Everything is the truth except your thoughts. Thoughts condemn or encourage, they are not the product of a still mind. A still mind does not think, it relies upon intuition. It goes and accepts the flow of life, for regrets only arise out of thought.

Thus, I went into the porn journey. I am neither out nor in. I am here. Speaking to you.

After this, came a burst of energy. It changed my sheets, showered, did my skin care, my nose care, my exercises, my breathing, my organisation. It gave me a want- the want to see souls. It taught me that porn cannot stop me. I need not be afraid of it. Yet, I also wish to learn why- why exactly do I watch porn?

My current theory is that I desire intimacy, safe intimacy, and this desire comes from the poverty of love- this poverty of love seems to be a trend in victims of sexual abuse. This leads me to wonder, but I am relatively certain I, Karan, have never been sexually abused. Here is where Kendrick Lamar comes to my help, it can be generational trauma.

Whatever it is, the teacher within instructs me to speak to someone about this. I have never discussed these things in therapy. In fact, for many years I looked for therapists to help me understand what was happening to me. Then I felt okay, that I wish to go toward goodness instead of ‘fixing’. There’s nothing to fix. Ironic, that as I felt that, it is followed by this realisation that there is much to talk of in therapy. I know the topics, and I seek understanding. I seek perspective. Thus, I seek therapy.

Well, therapy is more symbolic. Life is throwing what I look for toward me. I need only be awake and aware. This always comes- for one can never sleep forever, I would know.

Say yes to everything. Let life’s energy come and guide you. Indeed, that is what pushed me in Finland. Let me adopt this mindset once more. Let me say yes, and not worry about how it will be. Let me say yes to meet people and not worry about conversation.

For I know my conversation revolves around the other.

Within 3 hours, life has changed. Within each moment it changes, but this is obvious, for I woke up with the wish to sleep forever. I woke up feeling terrible, wishing to escape reality.

Please send me outlets, I say yes.

Boredom

I feel bored. I find myself looking around for something to do. I can’t imagine how my parents, especially Dad, may be feeling. Just nothing to do, and it is only day one. Well, on the bright side, Instagram or Youtube is no longer nourishing my appetite.

My wishes come true. Just as I found myself letting go of fast food on its own, I let go of Instagram and Youtube too. There is no reason to resist something, manifestations come true.

I seek porn. Ugh.

This logic, that bad things fall away on their own, does it apply to drugs and porn?

Some people eat fast food for life. How can I be certain my things will fall away? What separates people whose vices fall away naturally and those who are stuck forever?

The tides of life? Do they wash it all away?

Cravings are strong, let me complete my tasks. Wish to buy shoes today. I was to go for a face clean up. I will look into that. Buy dry fruit too. Need to shower.

I guess the best way to use boredom is to prepare ourselves for opportunities to come. I sit with my boredom. I choose to be bored. It is okay.

If you wish to understand, keep in mind that you have gone from being surrounded by family and friends to being alone all of a sudden. Thus, your mind requires time to adjust. Spend this day as you would like to spend the days to come. Be with yourself.

Wonderful things do come from boredom.

Relapse

Man I hate myself. Well, I know now I seek excitement. I am boreed. I sensed the steady decline- it really is like a monster. The issue is, I do not know when I give myself a break, if it is the monster tricking me or I need it. Perhaps my method of taking a break ought to change. I notice that when I take an afternoon nap, it goes long. I refuse to wake up. I love sleep. Then at night I remain awake and end up masturbating or watching porn.

Ok. The solution isn’t to force myself to work. My dreams told me I should accept myself. That was the message. Okay, I let go. Whatever happens, happens. I had a great run. No pressure.

I guess it also annoys me my parents are obsessed with my elder brother’s issues. I am there too. I shall help, I can handle myself. I told them I relapsed, so I am making effort. It will all be okay. I seek pity and acknowledgement of my suffering- do I do so myself? No I did not. I forgot my suffering, and took myself for granted. Cut some slack? Yes please.

I seek companionship.