Pages

Friday, December 14, 2018

When my wings and my footsteps take me back to my Motherland every year...

Each year I travel 15,000 miles back to my homeland and country..something deep inside me takes me back to the land where I was born and where a great part of me will always belong...My Motherland..India.




My feet take me away from the crowded cities and people who call themselves my `friends' ..they lead me to those dusty country roads and paths and simple people with whom I will always feel a kindred spirit in my heart....





My heart seeks the ancient temples and the mountain peaks that have stood tall and  strong since ancient times, as if bearing witness to the rise and fall of people and civilisations...the only truth that stood the test of time was unbroken love and faith and devotion..such as those the ancient people of my land have forever known...





I watch the pigeons and parakeets build their homes in the ruins of old brick temple walls..rivers like the `Indrayani' and the `Ganga' flow on...so many stories..so much of history...so many memories.. how is it that my heart calls for a past and for a time when I was not even born..?








What memories do we hold within us?...how many souls touch us seen and unseen as we walk along paths that hold the history as old as the story of mankind?




Why does my heart seem to burst with love for this my ancient land...how can I explain to those who  never speak with their inner soul , the language of time..the meaning of the sunrise and the shadows that haunt these courtyards and the beauty of the dust that rises from these thousand year old rocks..



To you I return again and again my beloved land..sometimes I bring my husband and soulmate Brian and we walk together hand in hand..and sometimes I come to seek alone the love and blessings of my beloved Mother and my Motherland...



Ma, in your frail and beautiful hands..lie the power and beauty and the story of my whole life..Dear Mother..who will know of your sacrifice and your suffering? and who will know and understand that  Love which never ends? .which .never forgets and never gives up...?








My beloved Mother and Motherland..not the glamour of faraway cities or the glitter of diamond dust can ever compare with what we have known...for in the long-lost past I have sown memories that will carry me through life with a Joy that has no connection with anything this world can ever give me...








My country..my homeland..whenever I am tired and my soul seeks the warmth and love and blessings of your sacred sands..my feet and my wings lead me to you...





When the heart has expanded and the soul knows no barriers and the world is mine ..when there is no one who is " alien" and no brother " foreign" but the world we belong to is one... yet, some part of me ..still seeks the simplicity of my long-lost country..that lane and that corner, that I knew as " home"...




Oh, my beloved Mother and country and brothers....the fields in the village and calls of the Eagles...the song of the cuckoo, the bells in the temples..the music of the monsoons and the sunsets so unforgettable....








I will always belong to you..and we each pass on that love and bond and blessing to those who touch our lives and become a part of us..just as my beloved husband will always be a sweet part of me...and so the River of Life and Love and eternity flow on.....



 


Photos: Most of the photographs have been taken by me in the old and historic city of Aurangabad and in Pune. 
They are of the Sri Ramakrishna Mission Aurangabad Universal Temple which was inaugurated on November 17th, 2018. Sri Ramakrishna was the essence of the purest Indian spiritual thought, which is tolerance, respect for all paths, renunciation, love and unconditional service to mankind without any hidden motive to convert. The temple is open and welcoming to people of all faiths and paths of life.

 Other photos are of places in Pune and all dear to me.








One of my favourite poems is this Immortal poem from the movie Spartacus.( The poem by Antonious) I turn home....

When the blazing sun hangs low in the western sky,
When the wind dies away on the mountain,
When the song of the meadowlark turns still,
When the field locust clicks no more in the field
And the sea-foam sleeps like a maiden at rest,
And twilight touches the shape of the wandering earth,
I turn home.
Through blue shadows and purple woods,
I turn home.
I turn to the place that I was born,
To the mother that bore me and the father that taught me
Long ago, long ago.

Miles away I am now...
In a far wide wandering world.
Yet still, when the blazing sun hangs low,
When the wind dies away and the sea-foam sleeps
And twilight touches the wandering earth,
I turn home,
I turn home,
I turn home.