Sachin! Sachin! Sachin!!

Sachin Tendulkar. The name that has the Cricketing world swell with pride. The name that is a hope of a billion people of an immensely diverse country. The name that is also referred to as “India’s Proudest Possession.”

It is also one of the names that features on my list of favorites in bold glittering gold letters.

Well, there is never a need of a reason for me to talk about him. I can go on and on about him and how awesome he is. But its special this time around. He completed 20 years in International Cricket. His total runs stand at 30,000 runs and counting which is a first in the history of Cricket itself. More details can be found here.

For me, Sachin Tendulkar is Cricket. For me, Sachin Tendulkar is sportsmanship personified.

If ever, I get to speak to him or maybe he may ever read this EVER, there’s only two things I need to tell him : Thank you very much, Sachin Tendulkar. I will always love you...

“Commit all your crimes when Sachin is batting. They will go unnoticed because even the Lord is watching.” ~ A banner at a stadium in Australia

It’s the L thing…

You know there are things in your life you want to get. You know you’ve always wanted them. You always know exactly how you are going to feel about it when it actually happens or when you get that thing. But come the exact moment, it is not the same. It is not how you expected you’d react. It is not how you thought you would feel about it.

Such is the thing with expectations. And like everyone always says, never have any expectations from others. Your own self included.

Things are kinda crazy when it comes to looking at your own self as another person and at least trying to go easy on yourself. So that’s why I’ve been trying and it is very gratifying to admit that it is working.

I realize it is absolutely necessary to love. Just love. It is as simple and as difficult as that. And I have found that loving others, irrespective of how you’ve been treated, works a miracle on your own self.

Eventually you will come to understand that love heals everything, and love is all there is. ~ Gary Zukav


So from the moment you admit to yourself or someone else that you have seen a change within yourself and also have the guts to admit that you have become a ‘better’ person than you were before, Life [who is always listening whether you pay attention or not] throws at you a challenge when you have to ‘prove’ your words.

Life puts you to test right away. Something similar has been happening with me lately. I’ve been challenged to deal with my biggest ‘pain-body’ buttons. And boy, I tell you, it is not easy.

Like everything in life, things change. People change. The dynamics of relationships change. All this brings out intense emotions being expressed in variety of ways. My favorite one is just being able to accept that change occurs.

There are times when one wishes to go back in time but that, I realize, is not the solution. What happened, has happened irrespective of whether you like or not. You just accept!

On a lighter note, Sachin Tendulkar becomes the first-ever cricketer to reach 17,000 runs!!!!!!!!! So, three cheers for him!!!!! Wo0o0o0t!! So how’s that for a good change, eh?

If nothing ever changed, there’d be no butterflies. ~Author Unknown but appreciated


I have finally changed the title of my blog. It’s been ‘The Realm of a Shooting Star’ for a lot many years and somewhere along the path the whole theory behind having that title has changed as well.

Like most people, my blog too reflects what goes on in my life. The templates. The posts. The feelings. All this while, a new dimension had been emerging which I had not recognized before. But when there is something that needs to come out through you, it finds a way.

And it did. My life has changed completely from what it was before. It’s not a recent change but I just decided to write about it now.

The spiritual dimension in my life has gotten deeper and is getting deeper with every passing moment. That does not mean that there’s no friction. There is but I am letting positivity take over.

Thus, the blog has been re-titled “Life is made of Li’l Peaces”. I read this title on this site many years ago and have it on my mind ever since.

So yeah, remember this daily. Try it. I am.

If peace is really what you want, then you will choose peace. ~ Eckhart Tolle

Buddhapad (Buddha’s footsteps)

Tibet is a unique place. The serenity of the monasteries reflects throughout the entire land. The cement walls of the monastery are ornate with wooden carvings. The doors and windows are wooden and carved as well. All of the parts were surrounded by prayer wheels. Yesterday, I was at the school run within monastery grounds. The little boys and girls were excited to see me and could not stop asking questions about anything and everything. I had gotten them presents, lots of them. There were lots of hugs and it felt as if I had always known them as in memories coming alive from past lifetimes.

It was very hard to leave it all behind but I had to get back to India. A week after I got back, there was another major attack on Tibet. They struck exactly the same place I was at a week ago. I shuddered at the visuals that were cropping up in my mind. I had to go back. I couldn’t stand not knowing what happened to the school and the children. My children. Our children. It was harder to get into Tibet now. They had cordoned off the entire world to its brutalities in Tibet. But I had to go back. After a struggle, I finally managed to enter. There was no foreign or domestic press. It’s funny how we tend to care about people who help our materialistic lives and ignore the ones who help our souls.

I was in Tibet now and that’s what mattered. The visuals that met my eyes were absolutely horrifying. The monastery was in ruins. The doors were broken. The statues were destroyed. The prayer flags were burnt. The prayer wheels. Yes, the prayer wheels were also broken and scattered all around the place. Shattered. Torn. Just then, I remembered: the school. The children. With shaky legs, I trudged towards the school area. The door was half ajar, supported only by the lower hinge. I was shivering as I pushed the door completely open and then I heard a gut-wrenching scream. It was mine.

There was blood on the chalkboard and empty bullet rounds on the floor. I saw something shining amidst the empty bullets. I moved those away to uncover the shining object. It was the one of the pink sandals that I had gotten for the girls. I rummaged around, dug for more and I found another sandal, a brown one. Suddenly, I felt something warm trickling down my cheeks. I thought it was blood, but they were just tears. It may as well have been blood. I cried and cried. I cannot remember for how long. What had they done? How could they have done this to my children? Our children!

The door, suddenly, broke and fell. Startled, I figured its telling me its time to go. Heavy winds had started blowing as if reflecting my state of mind. Serenity was lost. As I headed out of what used to be a school, something hit my arm and fell to the floor. I picked it up and realized it was a prayer wheel with Buddha’s feet imprinted on it. I took it with me and walked out of the monastery grounds turning around only once to look at the monastery as the sun set on it, may be forever.

“May Buddha’s footsteps guide and protect children of violence.”

Buddham saranam gacchami [to the Buddha I go for refuge]

I had to visit an art gallery and write something on a piece that made most impact on me by describing it. There were a lot of good ones but this sculpture by Gloria Pritschet was very moving. I pretty much choked when I saw this piece. And the above writing, all fictional, is my take on the piece of art.

“Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.” ~ Buddha


A flurry of activity. I am a little dizzy. Is it due to not eating or a rush of excitement? Everyone knows what I should be doing, except for me. He is here. From the window, in a sea of sky blues dotted with silver stars and greens lined with gold, amidst the yellows and the pinks, I try to look for maroon and white. He did say he will make sure that his outfit matches mine. Its time to go.

I steal a look at the mirror. The maroon gemstones emit a glow as if they have been connected through the veins to my heart. The color of henna on my palm is almost black. The friends cannot stop teasing me. They say when the color of the henna on the girl’s hands is dark, she is very loved by her in-laws. Its time to go.

Looking for him, he turns and flashes a big smile from the alcove. His eyes are as radiant as the diamond studded golden tear-drop broach he has on his suit. I sit next to him. We are surrounded by daisies in every color of daisies possible. He knows I like daisies. Together we do as we are told, all the while stealing glances at each other, smiling. A lot of smiling.

Round one. He will make sure that he will take great care of me. Through the snow-white winters to the greens and reds of spring to the monsoon blues to the sunny yellows of summer. Round two. We will make sure that we will help each other achieve goals, both material and spiritual. Round three. I will step ahead of him when death comes calling. Round four. Our endeavors will be fruitful. Godspeed.

Time to eat. The dinner table is set in green and orange. I do not remember how and why these colors were chosen. Oh, I never asked what his favorite sweet dish is. I wonder.

Two trips around the sun.

Round one. He will not object to me listening to music all the time. Round two. We will make sure to not fight over who gets to watch T.V. when both the Indian ‘Men in Blue’ Cricket team and the Boston ‘Club Green Celtics’ are playing at the same time. We will just watch Tennis instead. Round three. I will make sure he gets his weekly dose of a Bollywood movie. Round four. I will make sure not to keep talking about how hot the British accent is or Australian cricketers for that matter.

Oh, he brought me orange daisies today. I think to myself again and smile, “Ah, arranged marriage!”

This was one of the first pieces I wrote for my class. Due to this piece, everyone in my class for the entire semester thought that I was married. I found out on the last day of class and had a good laugh.

What you resist, persists; What you accept, transforms ~ Carl Jung


Amazing things they are. Words have the power to make or break a relationship. Sometimes there is a struggle to find the ‘right’ word to convey something.

I’ve had times when I just wanted to splurge the other person with words, a lot of words to express how I feel. But something stops me from doing so. It’s like I am not sure whether the words will do justice to convey exactly how I am feeling.

Losing self in words is something I am wary off. Reading into something too much. Clinging to the heartbreaking words that were said. It’s one thing to lose one self in books. It happens to me all the time. Losing myself in someone else’s words also happen. The hardest part is feeling exactly what they want me to feel.

Living as we do, it is not always possible to meet up with a lot of people all the time. There are things that could be better expressed by just holding hands, or a hug, a smile or just eye contact.

Until the time arrives…only words will have to do.

As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words. ~William Shakespeare

N.R.I – Non-Respected Indian

Its the return of the NRI. Only this time, NRI stands for Non-Respected Indian.

Its all over the news. Racism against residing Indians in Australia. Racism here. Riots there.

NRIs, Non-Resident Indians, as they should correctly be called are becoming the scapegoat species.

Back in India, we are the Non-Returning Indians, the Non-Reliable Indians. We cannot voice our concerns to the ones living back in India because obviously we ‘don’t know how it feels’ since we don’t live there. We cannot critique something about India or else we will be branded and be told stuff such as, “Oh firangi already! Arey, this is India. This is how we work.” And it gets worse. We even get told that people who do not live in the country should not say anything about the country.

In our adopted countries, we are just (sometimes, maybe more now given the economic times) seen as the Non-Required Indians. Initially, it was being seen as conservatives to now being called job-stealers.

Sometimes it does give an overall feeling that we do not belong anywhere. Living in Canada and interacting with so many other nationalities, I’ve realized that this feeling is not limited to the Indian diaspora. Other nationalities too feel similarly and it is obviously not categorized in the way the NRIs are subjected but in their own issues.

The fact of the matter is what is it that the NRIs don’t do for their homeland as well as their adopted country. Be it helping their homeland monetarily or serving the adopted country through businesses, we do our part. Even then, we are still treated as we do not belong.

What can we do to change that? Should we do something to change that? These are open questions.

Will the near future change all this? Will NRI stand for Now-Required Indians? New Resplendent Indians?

There are too many people, and too few human beings. ~Robert Zend

Just because…

Ever thought of times when you are going through so much at the time and suddenly it all sorts itself out? It seems as if it was all of a sudden but later on comes a realization that it was a convergence of many past moments slowly making its way towards a solution that materializes into the resolving moment.

Each moment carries its own set of solution component to a particular life problem. And it varies with every person. Some choose to see the preciousness of this moment. Some choose not to. Some just are not able to see it.

Personally, I make sure I give this moment my most sincere attention. It is not easy. I falter. I notice. I get back on track. It is like a cycle that happens every single day.

There are times when questioning a current situation, be it personal, communal or global, becomes increasingly hard to ignore.But then, answers materialize as and when they are meant to.

So here’s to those moments. Enjoy.

Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at this moment ~ Eckhart Tolle

I am Nagar – II

As I had mentioned in my previous post, the principal deity of all Nagars is Lord Hatkeshwar.

Every year Hatkeshwar Patotsav, also known as Ochchav, is celebrated by all Nagars. The Hatkeshwar Jayanti falls on the Chaudus (fourteenth) of the Chaitra month in the Hindu calender. It is believed that Lord Shiva incarnated as Lord Hatkeshwar on this day.

The celebrations include puja, and a procession called Palakhi no Varghodo.

The day begins with decorating the deity and then begins the puja. There are recitations of Rudrabhishekh, recitals of the Shivmahimna Stotra and so on. In the evening, the Lord is taken around town in a varghodo (procession) symbolizing the arrival of the Lord in the lives of Nagars. After that, all of the people gathered go to the Hatkeshwar temple to perform puja.

The Patotsav is almost always a proper Nagar feast.

Memories: Personally, I attended the Ochchav every year whilst I was in India. I have fond memories surrounding this day. Even though it almost always happened that the Ochchav fell on a school day, so we were not able to attend the entire day’s puja but we made sure that we went to the temple as soon as school was done. All the Nagars in the city converged to meet at the old city Hatkeshwar temple.

Everyone took to the streets as the procession got ready to make a round of the old city. The Palkhi was preceded by kids dressed up in a variety of costumes ranging from Lord Shiva to fairies. Some were on horses while others opted to walk in procession. Following all of this, came the Palkhi carried on the shoulders of men who in no way showed a sign of pain from carrying the doli. The others walked chanting the name of Shiva, along with filling the air with gulal and giving out oblations to the believers. Something like this

After the Palkhi was taken back to the temple, we visited the temple and prayed before heading home. In the back of our minds, these words keep reverberating

Namami Natkeshwaram
I bow to you, Lord Natkeshwar
Bhajami Hatkeshwaram
I worship you, Lord Hatkeshwar

Jai Hatkesh