Thought Garden

My life’s been guided by stories.

They popped up in the oddest of places. In some odd textbook, in some perchance story-telling, some comic read, nestled in a magazine...

And once read they have stayed or, was it that they merely reveal some truth deep within and have become indelible?

One such story I came across as a boy in class V, in one of our text books.

It was about a boy, who wanted to make rain (and at that point of time I hadn’t even discovered my affinity to the clouds).

He always looked up into the sky beseeching the rain gods to talk to him. And one day the rain god did hear his plea and came to him. The rain god asked of him what he wanted, and he said he very badly wanted to make rain. On being asked why he wanted to, the boy replied that his village had suffered droughts for a number of years and that if he knew how to make rain he could ameliorate the situation for his villagers. The Rain God then took him up gently onto his cloud and handed him a pot. It was a rain-making pot.

‘Be careful’ said the Rain God to him, ‘Go about on your cloud and where you see the land needing some rains, drop on that land a single drop from your pot. Where you find that there’s a great requirement of rain, at the most drop two drops. But never more than two drops!’

The boy agreed and went off on his cloud. He was assiduous about maintaining the commands of the rain god. Every where he went, he dropped a single drop, and saw the rains open up below him.

Until, his cloud finally drifted over his village. There, he saw the people in desperation. It had been three years since the village had had any rains. It was in the grip of a severe drought. Here was his chance to help out his villagers...but then there was the edict of the Rain God! To not give more than two drops!

Yet here were his own villagers devoid of any rainfall for three years! Now the Rain God had said two drops...but he hadn’t said how many monsoons’ he was to take into account? Adding up two drops for each of the year his village had missed monsoon, the boy promptly dropped six drops on his village and satisfied he went about completing his journey and task.

On returning back to the Rain God, as he returned the rain-pot the god queried of him if he had adhered to the instructions. Oh yes! He replied and beaming with satisfaction went off.

He approached his village and dreamt about how he’d be hailed as a champion. As he entered his village he saw devastation all around him. He enquired on what had happened... ‘Oh the Rain Gods went crazy this time. It rained so much that it rained continuously for six days and six nights. There were great floods and wiped out a lot of villages and properties, ruining everything!’ – the villagers lamented.

The boy who had just ridden the rain clouds was at once contrite! If only he had stuck true to the rain god’s instructions!

How much is the right amount to give?

Could it be that one could give another so much love, for they have seen the other parched and drown them instead of saving them? I’m reminded of the survivors of the holocaust who had starved for long periods when suddenly fed by the Allied liberating forces, died due to over feed!

Two friends, who’s opinions matter too me, told me recently:

You have never learnt people management...that you should handle each one the way he/she should be and not the way you think is right dish in? Just what the other person can digest nothing more, nothing less...

the other said: Maybe you should think or feel what it’s like being in their shoes. Maybe you should let them be...and let them come to their own realisation...

What was being discussed here were my desire to give...my views or rather my exposition of them...can’t call them my views, as they seem to flow more through me, than from me, and are meant for the person who’s hearing it. Calling them utterances would be more fitting.

Depending upon the source its coming from (I guess I could call it clairvoyance and clairaudience) it can be pretty abrupt, undiplomatic and undiluted. I rarely try to either judge the message or try to interpret or dilute it, as I’m only the medium. However when the messages land up they do cause some amount of turmoil when the expectation was that it would soothe. And that can be unpleasant for many. So do I stop ‘giving’? And who decides what’s the right amount to give?

Like the boy of the story I wonder if there’s a ‘right’ way of giving? What is the adequate measure which suffices for another?  There’s a lot of wisdom in what my friends have suggested to me. The only point is I never have desired to manage people, nor in any way benefit from them...at least not consciously.
Why is it that when I see others dashing against objects with a blindfold on, all I want to do is help them take it off, as its not their natural condition...not any of our natural condition and when light hits their eyes and they react from pain which is but natural, I’m not ready for it?

While the boy will always be guilty of having dropped the extra drops which caused the deluge, will the villagers admit that they themselves from deep within had cried out for the deluge, never thinking about the consequences, and the boy, for as he could talk to clouds...he could also hear the din of their thoughts and merely complied?

What is the pain that people are afraid of?

Whichever way one’s to look at it, I guess there’s a lot of travel which I’ll have to do...discover and realise the wisdom in my friend’s suggestions and yet be true to my destiny. Possibly there’s yet the knowledge of Gods to be attained. The right way to give will be one centred on love...yet so many times we take fear for love. But is there also a right way to ask? To take?

I guess I'll talk about pain and the main reason of this post...my destiny number in a later post.fficeffice" />