The future is not ours to see Que Sera Sera, The lyrics of this song, snapped a cord from within,
Will I be rich, pretty, handsome, successful, have children, live a life full of everything excellent?
I will; I won’t? Remember the game we played as kids ” He loves me, he loves me not, where we peeled petals of a flower, and the answer to our query depended on the phrase at the last petal pluck.
If at all the last pluck had the negative phrase, we’d start over, hoping this time it would be the positive one last.
Now dearies that indeed was dumb, or wasn’t it? Look at it in any way; it seems just the same.
Suddenly, a sweet realisation sets in, and that is, “what does it matter?”
Now if you really want to know what matters, then close your eyes and look within..
You’ll see dark space with a spec of colour, which slowly gradually lights up into bright space.
There you go!! You know now what matters.
Just follow the dark spec intently.
Today, we are blind to the morrow, so why hunt out for the morrow when you can see your spot today.
No matter what will be, your today is as you see it, right here and now.
When the focus shifts from anticipating light in the morrow, to working on the spec of colour today, there it is. A bright finish.
As you paint on the canvas of now, the focus on your hands holding the paintbrush brings about the beautiful hues of colour on the canvas; you feel a sense of wholeness. And as you love your painting, you know that this is what matters.
Then comes the morrow, with a wicked grin, eradicating the painting. But then, as you look at it destroyed, you suddenly wonder, ” Does it matter? “
Does it or doesn’t it?
You had your joyous moment and were one with the painting while you painted it, and you loved it, so that was what mattered. And now you’re on to another one.
You’re enjoying focussing on the present one, and then I come in and tell you the painting you made yesterday was ruined.
You don’t bat an eyelid and continue on your present one. I look at you in surprise, telling you to come and see the destroyed one.
But you continue with your work smiling at me. Exasperated, I leave.
Well done, my friend, you’ve understood the game of life. For what is yours is the moment you are in. And these moments make up the film of life.
Each moment is important in the frame of life, and all the moments together form the broad picture.
Then all that matters is the joy of doing, and not the joy in anticipation.
When you’ve done your bit, you sleep sound,
And then as I say Que Sera, you say,” Whatever will be will be”,
For the future is not ours to see, so what does it matter,
And then you turn over, enjoying your moment of blissful slumber.
This is living and life, hold on to it while it is here.
For as you hold on to it minute by minute, it never really goes,
For it goes on and on, from the sunny hills to the darkest tunnels, and as you take a deep breath in the dark, you realise it’s not as scary as you think it is, for you lived each moment, fully and wholly,
So as the light came so did the dark.
Well, I didn’t like it, did you? Ah, there you go again. Did I ask you to like it or dislike it?
But to just look at it, and as you see the dark, you accept it wholly, for that voice within says,
As you accept the light so accept the dark.
Seeing no way out I decide to go with that tiny whisper, for as I live here in the dark hole, I realise it’s a part of the bigger picture.
So as I see the big picture, Alas what do I see?
The black and white amalgamated as one, each moment moving on in the timeline of life. Some black some white, some dark some bright.
Where am I ? In it or away watching intently.
I moved out to watch, fellas, and I saw my role.
My role in the stream of life was to flow on, dare I hold on,
I know I won’t now, for I am satiated; I’ve had my fill.
The painting I painted today had it all. And as I observe the hand that holds the brush, It moves up and down,
No mind, no thought, just the movement of the brush on the canvas says it all.
Just the movement at the moment, was it all?
Suddenly different hues shaped up on the canvas
The dark, light, dull, and bright amalgamated to form this wonderful painting of life.
It’s the same within and without, and will remain so if unlabelled.
Now the understanding of the dark and light, gives solace to the heart, and with it follows Joy.
It causes my heart to skip a beat.
As I look up, something strangely catches my attention; it’s the biography of Krishnaji by Pupul Jayakar.
As I see his face full of passion and love, I feel the magnificence of his presence as I’m carried on to the realm of the real.