When shadows speak

Shadows don’t speak often but when they do, they can’t be shut. I remember the day my shadow spoke to me.


‘Hey there. Sh sh” it called

I looked around. Finding nothing, I resumed on my book.

“I am here closest to you.”The voice called again

Concurrent concentration and distraction can drive you crazy. Irately, I snapped “Who is it?”

“My dear. You are missing me again like always. Look closely. I am here. I am your shadow.” The voice muttered.

“Are you kidding me? Shadows don’t speak.” I smirked

“But of course they do. “ It paused.” I would rather say people don’t listen. You just don’t know how to listen.”

“Now you talk like my mom. Go ahead. What do you want?” I leaned back on my rocking chair.

“I just wanted to know why you hate me so much.”

“I don’t even know you, how can I hate you?”My brows squeezed.

“That’s what you see. I have been there for you since the inception. I have grown with you, I move with you, eat with you and sleep with you and you, you say you don’t even know me.”

None likes to be defeated in arguments especially by his own shadow. “Can you come straight to the point?” I asked.

“OK. The bottom line is that I am sick of following you. You will have to free me now.” It reddened

“I never stopped you from going anywhere .You are on your own. Free to stay, free to leave.” I turned my head closing my eyes.

“Simply saying it won’t do. Because we belong together I want you to follow me for a few days and I will follow you for the rest of time. Trust me it is a fair deal.”It spoke again.

“Ha ha..What a joke? My shadow wants me to follow it. What a terrible day? Can you please leave me alone?”

“No. Enough is enough. I have to have an identity. We shadows have been following you forever and now it is our turn. We are not going to sit quietly this time.” It nudged

“Oh yeah.” I frowned.” Let’s see. What you can do? Go and do whatever you want. Get the hell outta here.”

It thumped its leg and left.

Sun felt good and relaxing. That evening I noticed my shadow wasn’t following me anymore. But who cares for a shadow?

Collecting groceries was a pain as always especially in summer. Sun sharpened and cut every corner edge to edge.

People gossiped. Children hid behind their mothers. Few laughed.

“Excuse me” A feeble voice echoed from behind.

I turned “Yes”

“Are you a ghost?” A young child, half of my length, asked.

“What makes you think of me as a ghost?” I tried to keep my voice low with pressure collecting in my chest.

“Because you don’t have a shadow following you.” The child replied pointing his finger to the ground.

“I don’t own a shadow and, I am no ghost either.” I continued.

“But only ghosts don’t have shadows.” The child followed.

“Why don’t you go and ask your parents?”

“They told me to keep away from you.” Child accompanied.

“So you better listen to them.” My voice was much louder than preceding conversation.

His face turned red and he left. I walked back home hurriedly.

“Just how stupid could people be? So much importance to a silly shadow.” I thought

Slowly, it was apparent that I was not myself without my shadow. So I decided to get it back one day.

I looked in the market, in the neighborhood and on the streets but, it was gone. I couldn’t believe it really disserted me.

My house turned into a self constrained prison

One afternoon I peeped through my window. A shadow appeared by my rocking chair.

I hate it when people occupy my space. Who the hell was it to rest in my garden on my rocking chair?

Covering myself with a silken shawl, I rushed to the garden and found my own shadow leaning fondly by my chair.

“What are you doing here?”I frowned collecting myself.

“I have been waiting for your answer on the deal.”The shadow replied.

“Which deal?” I said. Although it was all I thought about.

Its voice dimmed” But, I thought of it all the time and, I feel I cannot do without you.”

So we were together again, walking side by side. But unlike other shadows my shadow was a sad one.

Where every other shadow walked hand in hand, mine felt dragged.

Days later I met the same kid and, showed him my shadow with a leaning eye.

He smiled watching us together and raised his thumb but, lowered his lips sullenly at my shadow.

I looked back at my shadow and asked “why don’t you lead this time?”

The shadow brightened and tilted to the front.

We walked to the far neighborhood that evening and, my shadow was as happy as I was.

Little recognition on everybone's part can make the world a happier place. We are all reflections of each other. It doesn’t matter who follows whom. What matters is that together we move ahead and rejoice.

NUO-The wild

Sixty year old Ran ke ping had a keen liking for horses. NUO-the graceful, a six months colt bought from local Alfafa animal market was his latest delight.

NUO, caught from the wild, was hardest to train. It kicked and jumped and ran and thumped, trainers refrained from training this adamant horse.

“Why don’t you sell it back?” They said to Ran watching it through the fence. Few others suggested hurling him into the dark deep forest.

 Ran loved the look in NUO’s eyes. It was a look he had somehow missed all those years: a look of freedom, honesty and bravery. It was a look missing in the eyes of its trainers and the villagers. Like every other great things around, he knew that NUO was hard but not impossible to train.

So he decided to train NUO on his own.

Next morning he walked with rope to the colt. Tired of trying all moves till afternoon, the colt finally sat disheartened in the corner heeding Ran from the other end. Ran took the sign and pulled out the saddle. The colt was quiet. He untied its rope. Suddenly the colt lifted its rear legs with ultra force that whacked Ran’s face right beneath the chin.

This was too much.” May be the villagers were right” he thought lying with his broken jaw on the bed.

Ran didn’t see NUO next morning.

NUO was habituated of seeing Ran every day. We eventually fall in love with people even when we say we don’t. So NUO silently walked to the window that evening and saw sleeping Ran. It did what good horses do, it licked. Ran waked up stunned and tried to move off the bed.“What was it that Nuo was going to do again?”He thought.

NUO stood quietly beside him. Ran lifted his hand after sometime and touched NUO’s face. NUO stood.

Years later it was NUO’s 8^th birthday, when Ran died. It stood by the window that evening looking at NUO’s bed.

It grew up to the most handsome horse in the neighborhood. People heard his heroism from Ran and others. Now that they could own it, every keeper claimed its ownership in presence of Fuhu-The landlord.

Fuhu had lived in wilds for many years. He knew the look on NUO’S face. It was something his people won’t understand. So he expressed a desire to get the horse for his niece Xian Ai shi.

Xian was thirteen. She always said that riding was a stout hearted adventure with nothing to be produd of.

Fuhu now owned the horse and now wanted it in his stable. But, when keeper tried to move NUO from his master’s farm, it was back in his embryonic shape. It kicked and knocked and scared the hell out of them.

By evening they tied him in seven ropes made of sturdy strings.

Fuhu smiled hearing NUO’s strike.

Next morning he walked with his niece to Ran’s farm and sat looking at NUO from a distance. Xian never wanted to be here. She despised the sight of a young horse tied ruthlessly for nothing.

She walked slowly to the horse. NUO thumped his legs and breathed heavily focusing on the lady walking to him. She ignored it and turned to the side untying the ropes.

“No, kid. What are you doing?” Fuhu shouted.

As soon as NUO was free it pounded its legs fiercely on the ground and gushed towards Xian. Xian was frozen.

NUO neared her in no time and stopped touching her hair. It breathed heavily and looked in Xian’s eyes.  Xian looked back at him.

It hit the ground again and ran to the other side fading quickly in to the forest backdrop. Few moments later Xian exhaled the air she has been holding all this time. Fuhu rushed to her and hugged her in his arms.”Don’t you ever do that again” He said.

“Well. I don’t need a horse.” She frowned and walked away.

NUO ran several miles and reached the far river. It looked forward and then back again.  Morning it started back for the village, It was all it knew.

It ran faster and reached village by afternoon. Fuhu and his girl stood in Ran’s farm even now.

NUO came closer and looked at Xian. Xian looked back at him. Later it followed her to Fuhu’s farm.

Fuhu smiled and said to the keeper “Only innocence can win over innocence and love over wild.”

Ayn Rand-a documented contemporary monk

Uncontaminated reasoning is the essence of enlightenment. Apparently differing attributes in mankind are unremarkably indifferent and can be easily categorized with little understanding. Gautama the Buddha, Osho, Albert Einstein and Ayn Rand have wondrous agreement in their statements. These ambassadors of uncommon individualism, science, technology and agnosticism shared the same class. I call this class- a class of the monks: fearless, thoughtful, true and alone.


There are majorly two kinds of men: one who can reason and one who cannot. History has been categorizing men with reasoning as leaders, philosophers and gurus. With technological advancement the face has changed and creative energies are better streamlined into multiple defined faculties. But the class remains the same: of authenticity and intelligence. Ayn Rand is the twentieth century monk in the form of a writer.


Her works bear an unparallel resemblance with ideologies of Buddha, Osho and Zen monks. Self recognition, objectivism, individualism and a heroic self vision are in one form of the other pillars of Buddhism and Zen. Where Buddha relates it to human mind, Rand focuses more on manifestation of intelligence i.e creativity. But both restrict their approach to individual growth. Both lay extreme importance to clear reasoning. A thorough dedication to honest work and effort and, reclusion from collectivism again forms the base of any spiritual pursuit.


Rand’s emphasis on conscious efforts rather than emotional judgments is in complete accord with Buddha’s rational approach. Completely driven by logic and intentions both disregard psychological weakness of any sort.


Contemporaries and conservatives have always differed in discerning rationalization. Ayn Rand evolved as contemporary visionary of 20th century. She knew something that Russians didn’t. She saw this world coming, the convenient capitalist world we see today. This is also the world Buddha saw: a world of individualism and freedom. Similar vision indicates parallel grounds. Both must have shared their grounds somewhere.






Notable quotes 


“And now I see the face of god, and I raise this god over the earth, this god whom men have sought since men came into being, this god who will grant them joy and peace and pride. This god, this one word: 'I.'”-Ayn Rand


“You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found anywhere. You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” –Buddha


“Crowd has no soul”-Osho




“Happiness is that state of consciousness which proceeds from the achievement of one's values.”-Ayn Rand


I need no warrant for being, and no word of sanction upon my being. I am the warrant and the sanction.


Rationality is the recognition of the fact that nothing can alter the truth and nothing can take precedence over that act of perceiving it.


That which you call your soul or spirit is your consciousness, and that which you call 'free will' is your mind's freedom to think or not, the only will you have, your only freedom, the choice that controls all the choices you make and determines your life and your character.


The spread of evil is the symptom of a vacuum. whenever evil wins, it is only by default: by the moral failure of those who evade the fact that there can be no compromise on basic principles.

“From the smallest necessity to the highest religious abstraction, from the wheel to the skyscraper, everything we are and everything we have comes from one attribute of man -- the function of his reasoning mind.”

“The truth is not for all men, but only for those who seek it.”

“The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live.”

“To say 'I love you' one must first be able to say the 'I.'”

“Why do they always teach us that it's easy and evil to do what we want and that we need discipline to restrain ourselves? It's the hardest thing in the world--to do what we want. And it takes the greatest kind of courage. I mean, what we really want.”

“Achieving life is not the equivalent of avoiding death.”

Ask yourself whether the dream of heaven and greatness should be waiting for us in our graves – or whether it should be ours here and now and on this earth.

Reason is not automatic. Those who deny it cannot be conquered by it. Do not count on them. Leave them alone.

There are two sides to every issue: one side is right and the other is wrong, but the middle is always evil.

The most depraved type of human being is the man without a purpose.

Existence is Identity, Consciousness is Identification

Love is our response to our highest values.

Through centuries of scourges and disasters, brought about by your code of morality, you have cried that your code had been broken, that the scourges were punishment for breaking it, that men were too weak and too selfish to spill all the blood it required. You damned men, you damned existence, you damned this earth, but never dared to question your code. Your victims took the blame and struggled on, with your curses as reward for their martyrdom - while you went on crying that your code was noble, but human nature was not good enough to practice it. And no one rose to ask the question: Good? - by what standard?

Rationality is the recognition of the fact that existence exists, that nothing can alter the truth and nothing can take precedence over that act of perceiving it, which is thinking...

All work is an act of philosophy.

Man cannot survive except by gaining knowledge, and reason is his only means to gain it. Reason is the faculty that perceives, identifies and integrates the material provided by his senses. The task of his senses is to give him the evidence of existence, but the task of identifying it belongs to his reason, his senses tell him only that something is, but what it is must be learned by his mind.

My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.

Only by accepting total compulsion can we achieve total freedom

Throughout the centuries there were men who took first steps down new roads armed with nothing but their own vision. Their goals differed, but they all had this in common: that the step was first, the road new, the vision unborrowed, and the response they received--hatred. The great creators--the thinkers, the artists, the scientists, the inventors--stood alone against the men of their time. Every great new thought was opposed. Every great new invention was denounced. The first motor was considered foolish. The first airplane was considered impossible. The power loom was considered vicious. Anesthesia was considered sinful. But the men of unborrowed vision went ahead. They fought, they suffered and they paid. But they won.

Every Loneliness is a pinnacle.

In the temple of his spirit, each man is alone.

Do you believe in God, Andrei? No. Neither do I. But that's a favorite question of mine. An upside-down question, you know. What do you mean? Well, if I asked people whether they believed in life, they'd never understand what I meant. It's a bad question. It can mean so much that it really means nothing. So I ask them if they believe in God. And if they say they do—then, I know they don't believe in life. Why? Because, you see, God—whatever anyone chooses to call God—is one's highest conception of the highest possible. And whoever places his highest conception above his own possibility thinks very little of himself and his life. It's a rare gift, you know, to feel reverence for your own life and to want the best, the greatest, the highest possible, here, now, for your very own.

Quotes from Buddha

All that we are is the result of what we have thought. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him.

An idea that is developed and put into action is more important than an idea that exists only as an idea.

Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.

He is able who thinks he is able.

No one saves us but ourselves, no one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path but Buddhas clearly show the way.

Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.

“Your work is to discover your work and then with all your heart to give yourself to it.”-Buddha

“Work out your own salvation. Do not depend on others.”- Buddha

“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve your love and affection.”

Utopia forever

On a warm, bright winter morning Ms. Butterfly decided to stroll around and relive the day. The world was beautiful with angels around. She took her way to the neighborhood market, stopping at a grocery store.


“Goodmorning Mr. Snake. “ Ms. Butterfly said to the grocer.

She eyed around and found the right corner of juices and picked luscious pink pack.

“How much is the juice worth?” The rose juice wetted her mouth.

“Its 100 Rs" said the grocer.

“But the retail price is 60 Rs?”Ms. Butterfly drew her thoughts back to grocer looking at the pack.

Mr. snake hissed his forked tongue. "Its 100 for living and 60 for the dead. “

“Now do you want it for 60? “Ms Butterfly quickly picked out a hundred rupee note and rushed out of the shop.

She saw the theatre with a blockbuster “pa”. The waiting line was long but somehow she managed until her turn. Ms Cat who was 5th in the adjacent lane pushed ms butterfly and stood ahead. Losing her charm to watch the movie, Ms Butterfly walked back home.

She took the lonelier ring road to match her thoughts. Fresh winter morning breeze soothed her with lily scent of the farm. She took a halt and basked on the lily bed with winter dew.

“Off you go” said Mr. Grasshopper kicking Ms Butterfly from the top.

” This is my place. Who the one you to collect?”

Ms. Butterly passed through ranches, meadows and willows. There was heaven around with perfumes lilies and drifting daisies. But not for her.

Little boy house sparrow chased her even in the woods. Ms. Butterfly could we ride back home. I lost my way following you.

“Leave me alone. I am not going back to Greenville ever again” Irked Ms butterfly

So they crossed rivers, lakes, gardens and alleys, searching for a place that was meant for them.

“Where to? Ask the stranger Mr. Rabbit.

“We are going to utopia.” Replied Ms Butterfly

“Wait. I will join. This forest is not for me.”Mr. Rabbit followed

“ Is there a utopia? Oh… We have had been dreaming of it forever. We are coming with you.” The duck neighborhood was moved.

Deer, pigeons, frogs and bugs all followed the historical inquest of utopia forever. They crossed the Himalayas, Indian Ocean, rain forests and the North Pole.

Sun shone, rain wetted and snow chilled but, they were determined.
“Where to now?” asked Mr. Rabbit looking at the moon from the end of North pole.

Grand old Mr. Gear Bear howled and whooped on their story and pointed out to hiding Mr. snake, Ms cat and Mr grasshopper who had been following them on the great story.

“Those were the days when God lived with me. God frazzled through the days and the nights and kept me awake with him. You know creating a world is not an easy task. Now I am old and worn out but there was a time I carried it on my shoulders.”

He sighed

“For a brief it was all happy but, slowly people came fighting on the ownership of the world. They claimed that because they lived here, the world belonged to them and not to others. They also said that their share was inadequate.”

“God was out of answer and so he abandoned this place giving it all to them. Even now people come seeking their claim.”

I tell them that this world is not to own but, to be. It is a utopia if it is for all and a hell if for one. Ownership distorts vision turning beauty into ugliness.

Chosen detention

Monday mornings are a pain,managers are monsters, traffic an Everest and home a mess. In a nutshell life is just a drag. One is doing things because one is supposed to do them. But, Of course one enjoys on Saturdays and Sundays.

When I was a child I had always wanted to become a singer. I remember me, with two of my best friends, rehearsing in front of virtual audience after school hours. One of my friends wanted to become an astronaut and the other a pilot. I have never come across a child who expressed a desire to become the CEO of a big multinational company. Now, most of us aspire the same: a higher salary and a secured job is all that we are driven to. What changes our dreams and aspirations so drastically? What brings down our focus from high dreams to moderate achievable goals?

Scientists say that almost every child is born with superior intelligence. But, the tragedy of human civilization is that only one Einstein evolves in centuries. This garden is full of identical grass weeds with very few coincident roses. 99% from us choose socially acceptable apparently secured work profiles than individualistic interesting ones. And even though we praise individualists, we choose herd mediocrities for ourselves. Deep inside we are keener in following than leading: following an Obama, following a Bill gates, following an Einstein.

But, when one follows and adopts solutions from others, the validity of solutions is lost. Our unreasonable clinging to answers turns them into bigger questions again. Industrial revolution was an answer for great depression. Our obsession with it is slowly turning into a historical problem. Man is working like robots without thinking, without dreaming, without living.

We are holding tight to our age old ship that is punched with holes everywhere. Life is all about building new ships and going for newer expeditions. And, easy tried solutions are not always the appropriate ones. If one is born unique one should live unique. A prototype life is irreparable waste.

The real King

Undefeatable Alexander the great was repeatedly defeated in arguments by Diogenes. Diogenes was a beggar, who lived in a tub, in Alexander the great’s empire. This is a paradoxical world, almost always kings are defeated by beggars.

“I am Alexander the great” said the monarch

“I am Diogenes, the cynic.” beggar replied

 "Ask of me any boon you like." Alexander to the sunning Diogenes

"Stand out of my light."

“What are your plans, Alexander?” Diogenes asked laying on the shore in the morning sun

“To conquer and subjugate Greece” Alexander replied

“Then what?”Diogenes asked

“Conquer and subjugate Asia Minor “Alexander continued

“And then?”

“Conquer the world”

“What next?”

“Then, I will relax and enjoy.”

“But, I am relaxing and enjoying in the sun right now. Why so much trouble?”

Alexander is reported to have said, "Had I not been Alexander, I should have liked to be Diogenes." As it turned out, both Diogenes and Alexander died on the same day in 323 B.C. Alexander was 33 and Diogenes was 90.

It doesn’t matter if you live in a tub or 100 palaces, what matters is -what exactly you consider yourself? You can be a beggar and live like a king and you can be a king living like a beggar. 

UGLY IS BEAUTIFUL!!!

My granny used to have a mango tree in her lawn. One evening strolling around her garden, I saw a chameleon sitting on the mango tree. The chameleon had just jumped from the creeper and, its color was slowly changing from green to brown. Suddenly a thought pumped in my mind “It is a chameleon”, my lips curled downwards.

Granma was watching me .She walked slowly to me and asked “Isn’t it amazing how it changes its color?” I looked at her and said” But, it’s ugly. It is a chameleon Granma.”Granma smiled.

Few days later we walked to the market and Granma hit into a lorry accidently. Lorry bashed into a scooter that was driven by a young guy. He fell over a bucket of tomatoes. A bunch of young boys cracked up. Looking around he yelled “You ugly old women, look what you have done?”

Those words pinched my heart. Later that night I asked mom “Ma is grandma ugly?”

“Who told you that?” Ma asked

“The guy at the market said she was old and ugly.”

“But, she is the most beautiful women I have ever met. That means you have not noticed her properly?”Ma replied

I went to the Granma’s room. She was sleeping. I looked at her face. That was the most beautiful face I had ever seen: a face filled with compassion, love and grace.

It was beautiful because I was ready to see it. I could feel it because I wanted to feel her. Since then I have never seen an ugly thing and. even today I can tell you that old is beautiful and chameleons are fascinating.

See without judgment, hear without prejudice and feel without inhibitions: heaven is here, here is heaven. All is beautiful.