"pilgrim-post" Archive
Baroda's Smiley Street
It is Guri's birthday tomorrow. My 15 year old cousin asks me, "So what are you getting her?" Her mom adds more pressure, "Yeah, what are you doing for her? This is like your first birthday after marriage."
"What can one possibly get for a person like Guri?" I counter. Last year, her birthday was an excuse for us to take time off from our normal routine and spend the day just kind of "being". As I was walking at night to pick up something for Guri, I heard a faint harmonica sound; I approached the sound only to see an old man playing his heart out. No one was listening to him, so I just sat down next to him as if we were old friends. All of a sudden, you could hear his elated spirit singing through the vibrations of his harmonica sounds. I got up after five minutes and placed all the cash from my wallet -- one twenty dollar bill, I think -- into his empty bin. When I came home, the smirk on my face and the red in my eyes (blood rushes to my head when I give) gave it away. Guri retorts, "What did you give now?" That was her gift last year.
Most people don't seem to understand, let alone appreciate, such things. And certainly, my 15-year-old Indian cousin isn't gonna get it. She hasn't seen it in any of the TV shows, read about it any of the newspapers, or heard about it from any of her friends. Yet, it kinda rocks to give a gift of kindness, so communicating its value was the challenge in front of me.
Fortunately, inspiration struck. With a sheepish smile, I say, "You know, I know something we all can do for Guri." Within no time, the whole family was out on the streets of Baroda.
Our plot is simple -- make random people smile. And creatively share those stories with Guri on her birthday.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Sep 26 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
India Today: Sex, Drugs, and Sports?
In a quick leaf through my Uncle's September archives of weekly India Today magazines, I spotted these headline stories:
- Sex and the Single Woman: In 2003, 73% condemned pornography; now its 29%. In 2003, 57% said premarital sex is wrong; now it's 46%. In 2003, 78% were against extramarital sex; now it's 66%. For more than 72% of the populace, their first sexual experience was before the age of 21.
- The High Rise: "With cocaine and ecstasy crowding the menus at parties, nightclubs, pubs and even coffee chains, the upper middle class is hooked to a new high. Stressful lifestyles and easy money are creating a fresh profile of drug abusers across the metros."
"These days people don't drink at parties, they don't even want sex. Designer nights today are all about chilled water, energy drinks, senseless humour, trance music, and shooters. And shooters are no swipes of Vodka laced with flavours; they are shots of cocaine and heroine taken intravenously."
- Sania Mania: "the plucky 18-year old with her attitude, aggression and ambition electrifies the world, wins handsome endorsements and emerges as India's hottest new sporting icon." The story shows photos of some of the tennis phenom's t-shirts: "I'm cute. No S***", "Whatever", "You can either agree with me or be wrong." It also proceeds to mention that "Brand Sania is now worth 1.5 crore", the second strongest in India behind Sachin Tendulkar.
It's disappointing to see reputed magazines market sex, party-going youth accept a culture of drugs, and corporations branding anything that is somewhat successful. I wonder if cover stories on sex affect next year's survey result, if the upper middle class knows that Rs. 4000/gram of coccaine costs more than the annual family income for a Bombay slum dweller, if people (or even Sania) understand that Sania gets 1.5 crores in sponsorship because corporations think they can use her to sell stuff worth 15 crores. I really wonder.
They say India is poised to become a super-power in the next decade. I can't tell if that's good news or bad.
by Nipun Mehta on Sep 28 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
So, What Did You Learn?
Some friends came to visit us the other day. Interestingly enough, it was their chauffer that laid down the inevitable question -- "So Nipunbhai, what did you learn from your pilgrimage?"
Almost about seven months ago, this driver and I were doing a 5:00AM run to pick up my brother from the train station. At one point, he abruptly stops the car at a tea stall, looks to me point blank and says, "I've been dying to ask you this question -- can you tell me what meditation is?" Throughout the five minutes that I spoke, I don't think his eyes fluttered even once. So, in a way, this is round 2 in that sincere questionaire series.
I take a second to think. "I think the biggest lesson I learned was humility," I say.
Just in that instant, I realize that pausing a moment before responding is, in and of itself, a growth in humility. Before, I might've jumped to fill the void with my intellectual answers; now, I pause to admit my lack of an answer and to show reluctance for repeating cookie-cutter or self-aggrandizing wisdom. Instead of answering a question, it is now a joint journey of discovery. A simple pause, subtle growth.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Sep 30 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Simple Truths
My uncle is on a lose-two-kilograms-by-Nov-13 competition with my aunt. So I suggest a brilliant idea: "Let's go on a walking pilgrimage."
Now, my Uncle is exactly the type of person to not appreciate such acts of random spirituality ... which is why I was teasing him. :) As we were all cracking up, I spice up my proposition further. "We could even take money. And maybe even someone to massage our feet," I say. We all laugh more. Stating the obvious, I add, "You know, money really makes things easy."
With a loud smile showing on his face, my uncle sarcastically quips, "Simple truths. That's what pilgrimages are for."
Indeed, pilgrimages are for discovering simple truths. In this case, though, the simple truth is this -- ease of money comes with the complexity of security.
by Nipun Mehta on Oct 7 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Servant Leadership
In Herman Hesse's Journey to the East, a band of men are on a mythical journey. Leo, the central figure of the story, accompanies the party as a servant who does menial chores and also sustains them with his spirit and song.
Inspired by Hesse's writing, Robert Greenleaf wrote an essay in 1969 titled 'Servant Leadership' which later turned into a non-fiction best-seller.
In Journey to the East, Herman Hesse writes:
I perceived that my image was in the process of adding to and flowing into Leo's, nourishing and strengthening it. It seemed that, in time ... only one would remain: Leo. He must grow, I must disappear.
As I stood there and looked and tried to understand what I saw, I recalled a short conversation that I had once had with Leo during the festive days of Bremgarten. We had talked about the creations of poetry being more vivid and real than the poets themselves.
When the work becomes more important than the worker, the leader naturally turns into a servant.
by Nipun Mehta on Oct 8 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Shop Till You Drop
"It's time to upgrade my pilgrimage clothes," they all have been telling me. Ok, fine. Guri and I decide to go shopping at some recommended stores.
We walk into the first store -- a Macy's-like store in Baroda -- and man, I am totally uncomfortable.
I complain to Guri, "I feel like I just don't belong here. Can we go now?" Guri, of course, laughs it off as we try to orient ourselves in the store. On the streets of India, there are no maps or signs, no mapquest.com; instead of static sign posts, India has dynamic human beings that are willing to show you the way at almost every intersection. "Hey buddy, where do I go?" "Oh yeah, just go from here to here and ask someone there." Held by a rosary of beating hearts, Guri and I walked a thousand rural kilometers without ever getting lost. But here, inside this store, we fumble around till we find the right billboard-like placard: men's section, left arrow, kids, right arrow, women's showroom, 2nd floor.
Almost every couple minutes, I spot some guy cleaning the floor with an upright broom, or some teenager wiping the railings on the staircase, or someone wiping the windows squeaky clean. I'm all for cleanliness, but this just seemed like an artificial facade of beauty, a plastic surgery to cover up the dirty defects. In a way, India is a filthy place -- cow dung everywhere, smelly beggars on the footpaths, polluted air, bad water. Yet in another way, this mess is a manifestation of our collective mind that harbors inequities, chaos and dis-satisfaction; many parts of the world offer cocoons to run away from this filth but India, to date, still offers straight-up reality. After all, it was on these same Indian streets that Gotama the Buddha saw old age, disease, and death and was inspired to walk on the path of full liberation.
Anyhow, we get to the right section. Everything is very modern and stylish, and I must admit, fashionably impressive.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Oct 10 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
400 Rupee Tip At the Seva Café
I've never waited tables at a restaurant. So I pretend to play that role on the opening night of my friend's restaurant inauguration.
I force a couple of friends to be my mock customers. All of a sudden, within the next ten minutes, the entire roof-top restaurant is filled with people and the guy holding the pen and the piece of paper -- me -- becomes the defacto waiter.
Seva Café, as it is appropriately called, is no ordinary eatery. Like Analakshmi's chain of restaurants, you don't get charged for your food here. Your food is served by volunteers and paid for, as a gift, by a past guest whom you don't know; after your meal, your voluntary contribution keeps the chain of gifts alive by paying for a future guest. Instead of our current 'exchange' economy where you give in order to receive, here you are radically altering that paradigm by first receiving unconditionally and then sharing that experience with someone unknown.
"Isn't this a risky proposition?" an entrepreneur-like guest asks me in a matter-of-fact tone. Indeed, it is an extremely expensive wager by Jayeshbhai Patel and his Manav Sadhna team to see how far you can really stretch the Pay-It-Forward model. The C.G. Road location is prime real estate, the operational costs are heavy in a city like Ahmedabad, and the return on investment is practically gauranteed to be nil (or less). Yet, Jayeshbhai's response is: "In the worst case, we have fed people with our hearts."
Sitting under the bright moon at 2:30AM, the night before launch, I ask, "And imagine just *one* guest being truly moved by our offerings and carrying that forward into the world?" In a way, that became our silent promise. I waited tables for the next three days, from its 7-10PM operational hours, and at the end of the day, Jayeshbhai would ask me about the miracle-of-the-day.
Sure enough, I had a story for each day.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Oct 18 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Unspoken Contract With a Rickshaw Driver
"Where to?" the rickshaw driver asks me with his mouth full of tobacco. "Vijay Char Rasta," I say. I'm headed to meet Sampat, Raj and Archana to talk about the purpose of life and things like that. :)
"Café? You mean, it's like a Barista?" he asks showing his knowledge about the trendy coffee joints in town. "No, not quite like Barista. It's called the Seva Café." "Oh, what's that?" "Well, it's a place where everyone is a volunteer, and no one gets charged for their food. It's going back to our cultural roots, where each person is treated as a part of you and not a customer: Atithi Devo Bhava. We start each relationship by giving, and not by thinking of receiving."
As we talk more about the Pay-it-Forward model, the rickshaw driver progressively gets more and more blown away. "I can't believe that such a thing can exist in a world like this. Today, everyone is after money. No one gives. Corruption is everywhere, even in our government. The world needs more people like your friend."
"What's your name, by the way?" I ask the pumped-up rickshaw driver. "Mohan. Don't call me 'kaka' (uncle). I'm like your brother. Call me Mohanbhai."
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Oct 21 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
A Tribute to a Teacher
Several years ago, I was at the 50th birthday party of a friend. To open the party, he asked everyone a simple question: "Which teacher has changed your life?"
Everyone eagerly responded with memorable stories. Some couldn't decide between two teachers, so they gave two stories. And then when it was the birthday boy's turn, he wiped a tear from his left cheek and said, "Today, I want to announce that I'm changing careers. I'm going to be a teacher." Most of the people in the room knew that the 50-year-old man in front of them had tested positive for HIV; by now, most also knew that teachers change the world, one life at a time.
Today I learned that one of my most influential teachers passed away.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Oct 27 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Is She a Pilgrim?
"How long have you been doing this?" I ask her, as we sit around a circle of half a dozen people. "Oh, it'll be four months on November 16th," she says with her cross-eyed eyes peering through her bi-focal looking glasses.
This stranger -- I don't know her name or age -- has left home without money. She looks about 30 years of age, she won't say where she's from and she travels wherever circumstances take her. She sleeps wherever (mostly on the streets), eats wherever (often goes hungry). She doesn't know what she's after, she's not interested in doing service, and she has given up on "God".
"Why did you leave home?" "I don't know, I was fed up of everyone at home," she says with almost a tear in her eye. She figures that she's probably done more prayers than Gandhi, but then gave up on it; after having spent most years of her life doing chores around her house, she says that she has done enough "seva" for life.
"What have you learned by being out on the street?" "It's hard to say," she says as if she's never reflected on it.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Nov 8 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
In Search of Sinh-Baba
Three of us are seated at a table of a "hip, new joint" in the backstreets of Baroda. Unlike most other tables, our table doesn't have a 'hukka' to smoke from. Average age of our table, like the others, is about college: one third year college girl named Dhvani, her first-year-in-college brother named Chintan and their family friend's son named Nipun. :)
"Hukka? Everyone here smokes?" I ask, in a rather surprised tone. "Oh yeah, but it's not like real smoking. It's not that bad. There's not much tobacco in it, so it's not all that harmful," Chintan explains.
As I ignore a phone call on my mobile, I inquire, "It seems like everyone has mobiles these days?" "Yeah, yeah. Everyone. We all SMS (text-message) each other all the time," Dhvani says. Not only do 90% of urban students have cell phones, but even vegetable vendors, rickshaw drivers and house maids are often equipped with the latest gadget. On a table of four, it's not an uncommon sight to spot two people on their mobile phones. Hip collegians like Chintan, of course, sport phones that look like video game consoles with colorful screenshots, fancy joystick, loud MP3 player and more!
After some conversation about the latest Bollywood movies and predictions about exactly why the just-released Garam Masala will be a flop, we organically meander around topics pertaining to college life.
"What are most college students thinking about now-a-days?" I pose an open-ended question. "Money," came the flat, immediate, and assertive answer.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Nov 8 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Nadiad Spices, The Mom-and-Pop Way
He used to sell turmeric, hot peppers, cumin seeds and other spices that are so prevalent in Indian cooking. In the small city of Nadiad, Krishnakant's shop was one of the few mom-and-pop grocery stores that survived several generations.
Today, after many years, I visited the place. Krishnakant-bhai, a relative of my mom's, passed away several years ago as his two jovial sons, Bholo and Munno, took over the operations.
It's a humble shop -- 100 grams of salt for one customer and 30 rupees of spicy masala for another customer. Bit by bit, they make enough money to shoulder their responsibilities. "Now-a-days, the competition is really fierce around here," Bholo explains with his eyes downcast. "In this small city of Nadiad, there are almost 800 shops just like ours. To top it off, Adani's came in last year and is creating this 'shopping mall' mentality; everyone just goes to the big stores now. And next year, Shopping Bazaar and Star Shoppe are also coming to town. Let's see what happens."
The real story of this small mom-and-pop store, though, is the pop. Prior to Krishnakant-bhai's death, not many understood his spirit of business.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Nov 8 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Three Steps, One Bow in Gujarat
Both my palms are held together in front of my chest, my eyes are closed, my heart releases a silent wish for well being of all those around me, and my knees give way such that my forehead kisses the ground.
I stand up, take three steps forward and do another bow. Three more steps and another bow, as the sun sets behind my back.
About thirty of us were seated in a circle, talking about values and the courage required to live by them. In a pumped-up tone, I say, "It takes a lot of guts to put down the old and bring in the new. A lot of guts. Take the story of two American Buddhist monks who went on a 900 mile, three-steps-one-bow pilgrimage along the California coastline."
By the end of the half-hour story telling session, I challenged them to think deeply about bowing: "Think about bowing. You bow at a mosque, you bow at a temple, you bow to your elders, you bow to mother earth, you bow as a sign of respect and in Japan, you even bow as a greeting. It's an integral part of all ancient traditions, this thing called bowing. Each bow can potentially be a complete offering to Life in front of you and until we can do that spontaneously in each moment, the act of bowing is an incredibly powerful reminder for us."
I stand up to do a demonstration bow. Instead of sitting back down, I announce, "Please feel free to join." I wasn't sure how many would actually accept the symbolic (and impromptu) invitation to let go of the negative and create space for the good.
Everyone joins (as I was later told).
Our circle of sharing, all of sudden, turns into a prayer bead of bows across this beautiful campus in a rural setting near Ahmedabad. No one, absolutely no one, in the group has ever done something like this.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Nov 30 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Congratulations, Viral and Pavi!
On November 13th, my brother married a remarkable young woman by the name of Pavithra Krishnan. I could write paragraphs about her accolades and creative talents, but what makes her a perfect fit for Viral is that she is unencumbered by the weight of nature's gifts. Like her grand Uncle, Dr. V., she's got the shoulders to life heavy loads with picture perfect grace, humility and simplicity.
Congratulations, Viral and Pavi Mehta!
by Nipun Mehta on Dec 1 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Lessons From Indian Traffic
One of my Uncle's American friends once said, "I used to be an athiest. But after having survived Indian streets, I now believe that there must be God!" :)
Indian traffic is, well, Indian traffic. Every intersection has the potential of finding movement in all four directions -- the three wheelers push around the pedestrians and bicyclists, the cars shove their big frames fearlessly through any road block and the scooter and Kinetics use fake truck-horns to get some respect. While busy street corners boast white and beige uniformed traffic police, they are either busy collecting bribes or left wondering when their whistles will be replaced with loud horns so people can actually hear their pleas for order. The rest of India's intersections are left to the mercy of the almighty AutoPilot.
One would imagine that chaos would render the roads useless. But no. Traffic actually flows through, rather efficiently.
In place of long, mechanical lines of robotic machinery, Indian traffic feels more like an art gallery. Every intersection at every signal is a unique formation. Consider what happens when a signal turns red. Loads of cars and trucks and buses attack the front of the line from all kinds of irregular angles; in between them, the rickshaw driver sweeps left and right turns to cut ahead by two feet or sometimes four inches, the bicycle driver boldly squeezes into the gaps in between the three wheelers, and, of course, the enterprising vendor on foot will shuttle his q-tips and Maps of India and other random items from one car window to another.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Dec 6 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Your Son Has No Fear
[ A true story. ]
A child is sent home with a note for his father. The father opens it up and reads, "Your son has no fear. Please see me."
Unsure whether it's a compliment or a complaint, the father inquires further. His son tells him, "I sat on a seat that was marked for the teacher. I told the bus driver that I would relinquish the seat when the teacher came, but he didn't listen. And neither did I."
The father goes to see the principal and sure enough, the principal reiterates his complaint, "Your son has no fear. That's his biggest problem."
Perhaps someday we will rule by love, instead of fear.
by Nipun Mehta on Dec 6 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
One Rupee Ethics
It's a common phenomena in India. You hop in a three-wheeler rickshaw, to get from one doorstep to another. And the rickshaw charges you an extra rupee or two, or more.
Now, incomes of city-goers (in all strata of society) are usually far lower than their perceived needs, and enveloped in this sphere of insecurity and fear, people are always enterprising new ways to make more money ... even if those new methods of getting that extra cash involve some corruption, some lying, some stealing. "Everyone does it and so why not me? Otherwise, me and mine will just get left behind in this man-eat-man world," people rationalize to themselves.
And rickshaw drivers are no exception. Unfortunately for them, their ethical breakdown is very visible and prominent in the public eye. It's not always easy to like them and that, for me, is always a challenge I'm up for.
The other day, Guri and I went on a routine rickshaw ride. The driver says, "10 rupees." I know it should've been eight so I tell the guy, "Are you sure?" He rudely retorts, "Yeah, ten." I ask him again, "Is it really 10?" With a impatient anger, he says, "Didn't I already tell you?"
I hand over a ten. I peer through the front of the rickshaw, look inside and whispher to him, "You know, I don't want those extra 2 rupees you're after. But I don't think you want it either." He's a bit taken back, so I continue: "You cheat me today and your left pocket has two extra rupees. Tomorrow, someone else will cheat your own right pocket and it'll all be even in God's mathematics. This is not about me versus you. It is about you versus you. You choose the games you want to play." Having suffered through my own gross forms of greed and insecurity, there is a strong sense of confidence in my voice and a geniune wish for the rickshaw driver's well being.
The driver starts his rickshaw, as I smile and turn around to catch up with Guri (who is all too familiar with my ongoing antics :)). He sincerely heard me, so I am content with our interaction.
Just then, he calls out to me, "Sir!" I glance back. His hand goes into the top right pocket of his shirt and manifests a coin. Like a child eager to show off his report card, he holds up the coin and says, "Sir, this is only change I have."
He hands me a one rupee coin, avoids eye contact and rides away.
by Nipun Mehta on Dec 8 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
An Encounter with Sri Lanka's Gandhi
A large, SUV-like car rolls in and half a dozen people get out. As a part of the host committee, I need to spot Dr. Ariyaratne among the guests. Having never seen a picture of him, I wasn't sure how I'd spot such a celebrated personality but I anticipated a garland around his neck or strikingly unique clothes or a "Gandhi of Sri Lanka" halo or something. But nothing. I simply can't tell.
By any analysis, A. T. Ariyaratne is a living legend on this planet:
In the spirit of Martin Luther King, he has led peace marches and meditations with millions of poor people. In the mold of Mahatma Gandhi, he has quieted angry masses through his personal example. Like Jimmy Carter, he has successfully mediated intense conflicts and helped build hundreds of homes. Like the Dalai Lama and the world’s greatest preachers, he has an impressive ability to rally ordinary citizens to see the spiritual wisdom of looking beyond their own salvation to help ensure the salvation of others.
Such larger-than-life personalities, I figure, are easy to spot. But then I remember asking a friend about her impression of the Dalai Lama, after having spent half an hour with him. With a profound look on her face, Jean had responded, "He is so ordinary. Extra ordinary, in fact."
And so it is with Dr. Ariyaratne -- the most ordinary of the lot, a short man with a slight hunch back to match his humility, a simple white-shirt overhanging on his darker pants, and a pair of sandals on his old feet. The motto of his Sarvodaya movement is a prefect fit for his personna: "We build the road and the road builds us."
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Dec 8 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Secret Service: A Compassion Gang
"Nipunbhai, can we meet tomorrow? We've got lots of stories to tell you," the sixteen year old voice on the phone tells me. "Yes, of course. Come by at 8AM tomorrow morning," I reply.
It's a call from the compassion gang, an experiment inspired by Viral and Pavi's marriage. It's a simple scheme to create brandless tornadoes of love -- our "secret service" agents walk around the city and befriend those in need; when they find a genuine case of need, they inform another teammate to anonymously drop off an in-kind gift; and a week or so later, a third teammate would visit the same person and ask him about his experiences with kindness to reiterate the value of goodness. Each story is then written and retold by compassion agents to someone else they don't know.
Sure enough, at 8AM the next morning, four youngsters are seated around a coffee table. After a couple minutes of meditation, we start sharing stories.
RG, the sixteen year old, starts first. "Standing on the streets, I overheard two fifty-something men talking. One of them was a buttermilk seller and he was saying how there is no business in the winter months for buttermilk. Both of them were really poor and one of them says, 'I hope God keeps me warm this winter.' I immediately ran to find two blankets from our stock; when I came back, I handed it to them ... and you should've seen the look on their faces! They said they saw God work through my hands." It's obvious that RG is himself deeply moved.
Incidentally, RG's brother later remarked: "You should see these guys. All they see now-a-days are service opportunities. Everywhere they go, they're sharing stories of kindness and looking for a chance to make someone's day."
The young "secret service" agents had religiously written down each of their compelling stories in a red, spiral notebook. "The stories are getting more and more compelling," VJ says as the coordinator of this four-some group.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Dec 13 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
A Full Moon View
"Hello, CK?" "Speaking. Where are you guys? I've been waiting. All your arrangements are made." "CK, we have a slight change of plans." "What's that?" "We're gonna sleep out on the streets tonight."
A stunned silence.
"Hello, CK?" "Yes," he replies as if he's never heard anything this crazy. He had preponed his flight from Thailand to make it in time to receive us, but now this. "What do you mean?" he asks.
"Well, these guys are saying that they want to know what it feels like to be cold on the streets, before they start putting blankets on cold shoulders. They really want to sleep out there," I explain.
"In this weather? You'll freeze," CK exclaims before sharing the 7 degree Celsius forecast. "And what about the mosquitoes? Come on, don't be silly. Just come directly here. I have made full arrangements. You won't have to worry about a thing." After a few minutes of five-star hospitality reviews and a few more are-you-sure phone calls, CK has no choice but to accept our plans.
Eight of us are on the road. It's the compassion gang, taking off on a trip to reload their ammunition -- blankets for the shivering, clothes for the naked, toys for the young ones, shoes for the bare-footed, you name it. A truck load full of things, to give to people anonymously.
Being the eldest of the gang, I am responsible for making mature decisions. Well, well. :)
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Dec 20 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Back to the Bayarea
Guri and I will be back in the Bay-Area on Dec 21st.
Thank you for a phenomenal year. We couldn't have done it
without your blessings and good wishes.
by Nipun Mehta on Dec 20 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Will I Blog Again?
Yes, I will blog again. And so will Guri.
When you stay on the edge of your insecurity for a while, life's interconnectedness becomes apparent in mysterious ways. During our walk, many of you wrote wonderful emails of support, questions and comments; but in truth, they were all blessings uniting our sacred journeys in subtle ways. To honor that connection, I will post again on this blog only after responding to each of those emails personally.
In the interim, last year's blog entries are now also listed chronologically. To get an email update when this blog is updated, enter your email address below:
Oh, and I'm also printing a very crude :) hard-copy of all our blog entries and iJourney profiles. If you'd like a copy, drop me a note with your shipping address.
by Nipun Mehta on Feb 17 '06 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-post'
Thank you for a phenomenal year. We couldn't have done it without your blessings and good wishes.... | 6 CommentsA Full Moon View: "Hello, CK?" "Speaking. Where are you guys? I've been waiting. All your arrangements are made." "CK, we have a slight change of plans." "What's that?" "We're gonna sleep out on the streets tonight." A stunned silence. "Hello, CK?" "Yes,"... | 4 Comments
Secret Service: A Compassion Gang: "Nipunbhai, can we meet tomorrow? We've got lots of stories to tell you," the sixteen year old voice on the phone tells me. "Yes, of course. Come by at 8AM tomorrow morning," I reply. It's a call from the compassion... | 6 Comments
An Encounter with Sri Lanka's Gandhi: A large, SUV-like car rolls in and half a dozen people get out. As a part of the host committee, I need to spot Dr. Ariyaratne among the guests. Having never seen a picture of him, I wasn't sure how... | 1 Comments
One Rupee Ethics: It's a common phenomena in India. You hop in a three-wheeler rickshaw, to get from one doorstep to another. And the rickshaw charges you an extra rupee or two, or more. Now, incomes of city-goers (in all strata of society)... | 1 Comments
Your Son Has No Fear: [ A true story. ] A child is sent home with a note for his father. The father opens it up and reads, "Your son has no fear. Please see me." Unsure whether it's a compliment or a complaint, the... | 0 Comments
Lessons From Indian Traffic: One of my Uncle's American friends once said, "I used to be an athiest. But after having survived Indian streets, I now believe that there must be God!" :) Indian traffic is, well, Indian traffic. Every intersection has the potential... | 8 Comments
Congratulations, Viral and Pavi!: On November 13th, my brother married a remarkable young woman by the name of Pavithra Krishnan. I could write paragraphs about her accolades and creative talents, but what makes her a perfect fit for Viral is that she is unencumbered... | 3 Comments
Three Steps, One Bow in Gujarat: Both my palms are held together in front of my chest, my eyes are closed, my heart releases a silent wish for well being of all those around me, and my knees give way such that my forehead kisses the... | 1 Comments
Nadiad Spices, The Mom-and-Pop Way: He used to sell turmeric, hot peppers, cumin seeds and other spices that are so prevalent in Indian cooking. In the small city of Nadiad, Krishnakant's shop was one of the few mom-and-pop grocery stores that survived several generations. Today,... | 6 Comments
In Search of Sinh-Baba: Three of us are seated at a table of a "hip, new joint" in the backstreets of Baroda. Unlike most other tables, our table doesn't have a 'hukka' to smoke from. Average age of our table, like the others, is... | 2 Comments
Is She a Pilgrim?: "How long have you been doing this?" I ask her, as we sit around a circle of half a dozen people. "Oh, it'll be four months on November 16th," she says with her cross-eyed eyes peering through her bi-focal looking... | 4 Comments
A Tribute to a Teacher: Several years ago, I was at the 50th birthday party of a friend. To open the party, he asked everyone a simple question: "Which teacher has changed your life?" Everyone eagerly responded with memorable stories. Some couldn't decide between two... | 9 Comments
Unspoken Contract With a Rickshaw Driver: "Where to?" the rickshaw driver asks me with his mouth full of tobacco. "Vijay Char Rasta," I say. I'm headed to meet Sampat, Raj and Archana to talk about the purpose of life and things like that. :) After some... | 16 Comments
400 Rupee Tip At the Seva Café: I've never waited tables at a restaurant. So I pretend to play that role on the opening night of my friend's restaurant inauguration. I force a couple of friends to be my mock customers. All of a sudden, within the... | 28 Comments
Shop Till You Drop: "It's time to upgrade my pilgrimage clothes," they all have been telling me. Ok, fine. Guri and I decide to go shopping at some recommended stores. We walk into the first store -- a Macy's-like store in Baroda -- and... | 7 Comments
Servant Leadership: In Herman Hesse's Journey to the East, a band of men are on a mythical journey. Leo, the central figure of the story, accompanies the party as a servant who does menial chores and also sustains them with his spirit... | 4 Comments
Simple Truths: My uncle is on a lose-two-kilograms-by-Nov-13 competition with my aunt. So I suggest a brilliant idea: "Let's go on a walking pilgrimage." Now, my Uncle is exactly the type of person to not appreciate such acts of random spirituality ...... | 1 Comments
So, What Did You Learn?: Some friends came to visit us the other day. Interestingly enough, it was their chauffer that laid down the inevitable question -- "So Nipunbhai, what did you learn from your pilgrimage?" Almost about seven months ago, this driver and I... | 7 Comments
India Today: Sex, Drugs, and Sports?: In a quick leaf through my Uncle's September archives of weekly India Today magazines, I spotted these headline stories: Sex and the Single Woman: In 2003, 73% condemned pornography; now its 29%. In 2003, 57% said premarital sex is wrong;... | 8 Comments
Baroda's Smiley Street: Sep 24, 2005 It is Guri's birthday tomorrow. My 15 year old cousin asks me, "So what are you getting her?" Her mom adds more pressure, "Yeah, what are you doing for her? This is like your first birthday after... | 14 Comments -->