Category Archives: Friends & Love

power-of-faith

The Power of Faith

As a writer, I’m ashamed to admit that I rarely allow others a glimpse into my psyche and though I will often joke about my warped brain, the fact is I have always been a thinker.

Some consider this a boon but in all honesty I find that thinking too much is more painful than peaceful and wisdom can sometimes be, well, overrated.

Why?

Because there is a certain type of profound solace in simplicity and when it comes down to it, when I reminisce about knowledge, I picture a calming, peaceful, bright hue.

Not many people know this but some years ago I hurt my back, not exactly in a debilitating way (at least from a scientific perspective) but one that nevertheless paralysed me in living a life full of happiness and positivity through my late teens and into my early twenties.

During the time, I had begun to read a book called Living with the Himalayan Masters by Swami Rama and Autobiography of a Yogi by Sri Paramahansa Yogananda.

Now, I am a Hindu but I have been very fortunate to have been reared by parents who always pressed the importance of spirituality over any religion on my sister and I and for this, I will always be grateful.

So I really do hope that you see that the faith I am talking about is not attached to any particular religion or version of “God” but rather as a testament to the supremacy of faith and belief and Creative Life Force (as Sri Yukteswar Giri defines it) that we all have within us.

I haven’t had back pain for many years now, strongly believing that I had received a miracle of my own after a kind-hearted, gentle swami of my father’s told me with complete assurance that it had been fixed. Viewing it as my own version of a miracle that mirrored an event in the Autobiography of a Yogi, my mind, heart and soul completely believed his words and soon my back pain became a thing of the past.

Late last year however, it returned. I had nagging thoughts on how I couldn’t possibly deal with the pain all over again and how maybe I hadn’t received my miracle. In one short phrase – I had been infected with doubt.

One of the worst possible human emotions and weaknesses that any of us can let creep into our lives – doubt.

My parents have my whole life really, been my very own personal “God” in many ways and even their words of reassurance had little effect on the virus of doubt that was infiltrating my pores.

About two weeks ago I got a CT scan and the results were, to me at least, devastating. The problem had gotten worst according to my radiologist, and my doctor (who can’t read x-rays) made it appear to be even worse than my radiologist’s report.

After days of depression and heart-wrenching panic, I was in pain, plagued with mental and physical agony so I did some soul searching and sifted through my Autobiography of a Yogi copy and just opened random pages to “see the light”.

By utter chance, I landed on an excerpt where a disciple of Sri Yukteswar was beside himself because all the doctors he had seen had declared that he had a maximum of three months to live. The disciple had ran to his guru to beg for help and Sri Yukteswar has laughingly chided him for believing doctors who knew nothing about the Creative Force of all Beings and had proclaimed that he would be healed regardless of what any medical practitioners or experts stated.

The disciple had asked if he should continue with the medication to which his guru had replied – it’s up to you, take them or throw them, they will have no consequence on your health. The disciple got worse and worse by every passing hour but his faith remained steadfast, after all, his Guru had said he would be fine. Just when it looked like he had no hope, the next morning the disciple was completely healed – as if a miracle had just occurred before everyone’s eyes!

Though I am not comparing my situation with the dire one of this disciple, I decided last week, after reading this passage, that I too would have complete faith on my own miracle.

I didn’t care how it would happen, but all I knew is that it would happen – regardless of what anyone said or anything I saw.

Today, I went to my physiotherapist and though I had some trepidation, my faith remained steadfast. My Creative Life Force is unbreakable, undefeatable – omnipresent.

My CT scan had been misread and misdiagnosed by the radiologist; in fact, my back has one of the most beautiful curves (my physio’s words, not mine!).

I have my miracle and it’s one of the most beautiful feelings ever.

I have learnt two lessons from this:

1 – Positive thinking is absolutely the BEST medicine out there and it’s completely free and you don’t need a prescription.

2 – If you believe, I mean, truly believe no matter what, you WILL have your miracle, I promise it!

I know this is a long piece but for those of you who are down and in despair please know you are your very own version of “God” or a superpower. It’s all you, you just have to realise, experience and celebrate it.

Once you embrace the power we all are, you will quickly come to realise that YOU are omnipresent in every way!

tired

Why I’d prefer you penned down your argument …

Wouldn’t it be great if we could argue on paper instead?

Imagine that.

If you could just yell at me in prose, it would be so wonderful.

I could watch my favourite show without the constant bickering. And you could watch yours. Why do we always have to pick the time we want to watch TV to relate how much better the other one could be?

We could actually think before we spat out the venom that we do. Writing often makes us think before we unleash the poison within.

You and I could make up before we actually fought. Imagine that.

We would be forced to give one another the benefit of doubt before we pounced. Maybe we’d have enough time to reflect and realise the other one’s not the only one at fault.

Now, don’t you wish you could write our argument instead of using our vocal cords as well?

Maybe we could go to the beach and read each other’s qualms while we sun bake.

Childhood Friendship

What’s Your Most Cherished Earliest Memory?

I read this wonderful blog piece earlier today for work, and there was this interesting suggestion for Blog Writer’s Block that caught my eye (among the mammoth 150 or so odd suggestions for overcoming it).

The writer, Devin Burglund, suggested that you write about your earliest memory. So I thought I’d improvise … naturally. Because I like making things a little more difficult than they have to be, obviously.

One of my earliest, most cherished memories was when my very first crush, this absolute hottie (I was six by the way), a Colorado native at the British Continental School we both attended in Jeddah, Middle East told me he liked me. Trust me, even till this day, I still (as embarrassing as it sounds) get butterflies fluttering in my stomach when I think back to that hot sunny afternoon.

Had I known then that age and maturity would bring the awkwardness and fear of rejection, consequences and all the other unimportant and insignificant attributes it does, I would have savoured that innocent childhood moment when we didn’t care about what others thought about us, or before we had the experience and knowledge of annoying adult idiosyncracies so much more.

I lost touch with Jerome Douglas Noble but I’ve never forgotten the joy he gave me that day. I hope it was as sweet for him as it was for me and I like to flirt with the fantasy that he seldom thinks of me and that my memory brings a hint of a smile to his slightly twitching lips.

What about you? What’s your favourite memory?

Happy Holidays Everyone!

It’s that wonderful time of year again.

My favourite month is just around the corner, summer holidays for us Aussies! Yay!!!

I know I probably say this every year, but man am I ready for a break. I go on unofficial leave in about 2 1/2 weeks time and official leave in 3 1/2 which means that there’s a lot to do before I officially hang my socks up for the year.

It also means you lucky Bloggers get a much needed break from moi till about February, 2016 unless I sporadically post in between now till then because I absolutely have to.  Just to check up on all of you mischievous followers. But, you’re my mischievous lot so I love you 🙂

Anyway, have a wonderful, magnificently marvellous festive season with the people you care for and who love you back (because that’s important, just saying) and I will see you all in 2016.

Thanks for the laughs this year, you helped me get through many a dreary day. See you soon xoxo

Gulab Jamun

It’s always about the food, isn’t it?

Or, is that just me?

Eh, who cares! 🙂

We had a brilliant Diwali last Wednesday, cooked till 2am in the morning last Tuesday so I just thought I’d share some of our delectable delights with you and keep the calories to myself.

Sound like a fair bargain?

Anyway, I hope you’re all wonderful and happy!

Enjoy and see you soon 🙂

Diwlai 2015

Happy Diwali Everyone!

May this Festival of Lights shower much happiness, joy and splendour on all of you!

Have a lot of good food, sweets and precious moments with your loved ones as we celebrate the glorious Festival of Lights around the World!

Yay!!!!

Image Taken From: Kelley Bozarth. Like her work? Check out kelleydealphotography.com 

Remembering the ANZAC’s …

As some of you may know, it was 100 years on Saturday here in Australia for the Anzacs.

Commemorating those who died before us so we could live is always taken very seriously here in Australia and for good reason.

I’d like to think their humungous sacrifice (probably the biggest one I could think of for any human being) has taught us about the lasting severe devastation war has on generations of families and how really, nothing ever good comes from fighting and killing one another.

My Granduncle was an Air Marshall for the Indian Air Force and this gem brought tears of pride to my eyes when my sister sent it my way late Saturday night.

The honourable Gian Dev Sharma can be seen from 1:56 to 2:16 in this video broadcasted by the Australian War Memorial that has only recently recognised the sacrifices Indian Army personnel made towards the global military causes.

My earliest memory of my granduncle? As a six or seven year old, I slit my knee outside my grandfather’s house on the pebbled driveway and was balling my eyes out at the gross injustice Mother Nature had just hurled my way. My uncle bent down and cleaned my wound while blowing on it considerately the whole way.

“Wow, Mituri” he said. “You are so brave, I have never seen a wound this dire in my life before. Any other normal person would have to get stiches for this one but not a brave grown up girl like you”.

I still have the scar and the precious story to go with it to remind me of him every time I brush my fingers against the irregularity on my knee cap.

Lest we forget.