My mission

To jog-bicycle around the world, climb the mountains, swim the seas and soar the skies. Since they are not remotely possible, I settled for a daily dose of spiritual triathlon -- jogging, cycling and meditation -- necessarily in that order. My idea of a spiritual triathlon is 10 miles of jogging and 10 miles of cycling followed by an hour of meditation. I sincerely feel that not less than a spiritual marathon can tame the mind and mould it the way you want it to. So go ahead and have fun taking a dekko at my spiritual athleticism. But don't forget to drop in a word or two on how you feel about my blog and my way of life. Your advice is always valuable to go that extra length to the Garden of Eden

Food for cycling thought

A Zen Teacher saw five of his students return from the market, riding their bicycles. When they had dismounted, the teacher asked the students, "Why are you riding your bicycles?" The first student replied, "The bicycle is carrying this sack of potatoes. I am glad that I do not have to carry them on my back!" The teacher praised the student, saying, "You are a smart boy. When you grow old, you will not walk hunched over, as I do." The second student replied, "I love to watch the trees and fields pass by as I roll down the path." The teacher commended the student, "Your eyes are open and you see the world." The third student replied, "When I ride my bicycle, I am content to chant, nam myoho renge kyo." The teacher gave praise to the third student, "Your mind will roll with the ease of a newly trued wheel." The fourth student answered, "Riding my bicycle, I live in harmony with all beings." The teacher was pleased and said, "You are riding on the golden path of non-harming." The fifth student replied, "I ride my bicycle to ride my bicycle." The teacher went and sat at the feet of the fifth student, and said, "I am your disciple."

Friday, April 13, 2007

It's good to be smart but great to be happy

A very proper Englishman goes into a bar one night, sits down, but does not order a drink.
The bartender, an unusually friendly guy, asks him if he would like adrink on the house.
The Englishman shakes his head.“I tried liquor once,” he says. “Did not like it.”
Still trying to be friendly, the bartender asks him if he would like to join a couple of the boys for a few hands of poker.
The Englishman shakes his head. “Tried gambling once,” he says. “Did not like it. In fact, I would not be waiting in this place at all, but I promised my son I would meet him here.”
“I see,” says the bartender. “Your only child, I assume.”

It is good to be smart, but great to be healthy and happy. And it wouldn't be a misnomer to say that both of them are interlinked. If you are healthy and happy, you radiate a great sense of goodwill that cultivates in you a wellspring of intelligence and smartness. You become quick-witted because you live a life that is always on the edge. If you are cycling tens of miles just for the heck of it, you are not only making it a personal statement but you are open to all the possibilities in life. Especially humour. Because you love to be a kind and loving soul in the company of friends and elders. It is a natural byproduct of cycling.

I was bombarded with these thoughts while I was on a long ride in the lanes and bylanes of the city. Normally, I go for a long ride in the outskirts of the city. But, of late, I have been trying to discover the pattern of the city: how people live, what kind of houses they live in, their socio-economic status and the like. It has just been an inquisitive feeling. Because every time I go for a ride, I come across some unusual thing or the other. Most of the time I don't let my mind wander away, but sometimes I give in and the result is some probing questions from the heart. Well, I should be getting over it any time. Meanwhile, I did some wonderful breathing exercise in the morning: some rapid breathing that hits the interiors of the lungs, throws out all the carbon dioxide and flushes them with oxygen. After work in the evening I went on a long ride, as I said, in the interiors of the city on my way home.

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