05.25.09

05.25.09

Life is this day, whether I want it to be or not. Life is this cloudy morning, these long and tiring meetings, this dusty city, these moments of desperation. This is life.

But is it all right to want a different kind of life? A life of a different name, a different place, a different color? What about the one I have? Why can't I find a moment of contentment in this particular life?

How is it that I'm always reaching for the Other--for what I think I want--and ending up with the same thing I had before? The same life, the same me, the same discontent?

Sounds of Nepal

These are the sounds that fill our days...

the neighbor's puja music too early in the morning,
the rooster next door that cock-a-doodle-doos at the strangest times,
cooing pigeons,
barking dogs,
ringing bells,
the trash collector pushing his cart and faithfully blowing a whistle every morning at 7AM,
the horn from the tea kettle,
children laughing and then crying,
news from BBC Radio,
the recycling guys making their daily rounds, calling "bottle kaagaaj",
blaring horns,
planes flying overhead,
the neighbor constantly talking on the phone,
our gate rattling as a Sadhu waits for a donation of rice,
clanging from our bamboo wind chime,
the hiss of pressure cookers from nearby houses,
the mournful moaning of the neighborhood cat...

These are the sounds that someday we will hear in places far away which will immediately bring us back to Nepal.