Monday, July 20, 2009


If there is a hell worse than the drugged, midnight streets of New Delhi I don't want to know about it.

The past few weeks in the tribal villages and organic farm have been creating fire within me, but not sorrow. I played with smiling children whose parents were miles away rallying for the right to the land that they've lived on for years. I cooked a meal for twenty people with ingredients grown on the few acres we were living on.

But right now, as I stand in this hostel, I feel far away from the encouraging notion that there is good energy and work. Instead I feel a weight and a pain from seeing so many faces, ravaged by cocaine and marijuana and sniffing white out and falling asleep in the medians of busy streets while namaz plays over loudspeakers from Jamma Masjid. And I am physically and mentally sickened and trying to remember my power rather than the open palms I have held out in hopelessness.

But the line for the internet is long and I don't have the energy or clarity to explain more. Know that I am healthy and hoping to share more with you soon.

Shanti Shanti Shanti


Pallavi said...

Jo suno to kahe Prabhuji hamri hai binti
Dukhi jan ko dheeraj do
Haare nahin voh kabhi dukh se
Tum nirbal ko raksha do
Reh paaye nirbal sukh se
Bhakti ko shakti do
Jag ke jo swami ho, itni to araj suno
Hai path mein andhiyaare
Dedo vardaan mein ujiyaare.

You are bringing the light. The light that is growing within you, you're helping to bring it into so many people's lives. Be strong because I know you are. <3 <3 <3

pratik said...

u write amazing.....u r the most eclectic writer in my words.what u write strikes each and every r one of the most talented and interesting of all my friends. i wish you always keep on writing like of luck!!