I do
because I want things done
but the more they are done
the more I want done
till
i ask
what did i really want to do ?
and what was really done ?
for the drug
called ‘done’
is a finishing line
that i am constantly
and breathlessly
running towards
that seems to run
away from me….

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No, not at the zoo, but the show window of a fish restaurant inviting you to a gourmet dinner !

A view of Madrid from my hotel room
I am in Madrid to talk about a movie (tell u about that one later) but also to see my friend Jordi Molla, who played King Phillip in Golden Age. We have been great friends since, and despite being a big star in Spain, Jordi is one of the humblest persons I have ever met. We keep promising to do a film together again and even a short film would be great. Something we could shoot in Barcelona maybe, in about 20 days. Madrid is a vibrant cultural city. Cinema, art, Theatre and Opera. And then there is the food. Oh my God, by the time you have finished lunch people are already discussing dinner. Have to get away before I become a balloon.
I have been to Madrid before but every time I come, I have to go to the Prado Museum. It has some of the best works of Rubens, Goya, Rembrandt, Rafael and others. But mainly I come to see the paintings of El Greco. Yu cannot stand in front of some of his paintings and not be moved by the emotional turmoil contained in them. The only other artist that has that effect on me is Van Gough. The Prado has the largest collection of El Greco in the world. I find Greco fascinating and even at a time where expressionism in religious art could put you squarely in prison, El Greco was painting dark fantasies (he apparently went through a very dark period himself) using religious iconism. And some of his art where he broke free of the strictures of religious iconism, is amongst the most beautiful of expressionistic work I have seen even in the great modern artists.
“Art is not submission and rules, but a demon which smashes the moulds”

Sitting in NY in my hotel room, trying to work out what is actually going on ! I woke up to search the internet and understood that it was all over. Now I am watching CNN and watching images of the battle still going on ! And now I am getting texts of people I or my friends knew that died in the attacks. How come such a small group continue to hold the Indian armed forces and Mumbai’s security and police force off ? And what are all the people doing hanging around watching the goings ? There is something completely tragic and surreal about what I am watching.

Sitting in the airplane on my way to New York, trying to decide what to eat, my mind wanders. I am not a vegetarian, though I would like to be. Not because it is healthy or because being vegetarian is environment friendly, but because I believe that the food I eat effects us far beyond its nutritional value. The food I eat carries the karma of the violence of the slaughter house. It carries the karma of the pain of the animal slaughtered. And I am not separate from the karma of that animal, and all the karmas of each process/person involved in getting the food to my table. Add to that Karma of my own self, the attitude and thoughts I have as I eat that food. Phew ! that is a is a lot to think about as I am chewing my food !
Perhaps the extreme yogic philosophy of eating only the fruit that has fallen off the tree, encompasses other loftier ideas of humility and harmony with nature. But why is food cooked with mother’s love always tastier and better for you ? Is there something we still have to discover about food that goes beyond the analysis of its nutritional spectrum and the daily doses of supplements we consume so massively ?
Does a prayer before eating actually make food better for us ? – I think so.

You have to be just a waiting, an intense waiting, with a great longing — almost like thirst, hunger, not a word …. It is like the experience of people who have sometimes got lost in a desert. At first, thirst is a word in their mind: “I am feeling thirsty and I am looking for water.” But as time goes on, and there is no sign of any oasis — and as far as the eyes can see, there is no possibility of finding water — the thirst goes on spreading all over the body.
From the mind, from just a word, `thirst’, it starts spreading to every cell and fiber of the body. Now it is no longer a word, it is an actual experience. Your every cell — and there are seven million cells in the body — is thirsty. Those cells don’t know words, they don’t know language, but they know that they need water; otherwise life is going to be finished.
It comes … it certainly comes. It has never delayed for a single moment. Once you are in the right tuning, it suddenly explodes in you, transforms you. The old man is dead and the new man has arrived.
- OSHO
thank you Sw Niravo for posting this and ur wonderful website

The incredible tragedy in Bihar caused by the floods in the river Kosi raises several questions. Close to 3 million people have been displaced from their homes. Over a 100 are dead, but there is no way that figure can be established as much of the flood affected areas are cut off. While several people raised the spectre of global warming, why was there no warning and protection when engineers could see that the Kosi dam in Nepal was under structural pressure before it burst and caused the devastation ? If reports are to be believed, the warning was faxed to an office in Patna where the faxes accumalated as the person in charge was on leave and no one was in office!!!! Fax ? Whatever happened to the cell phone ?
A fundamental question too : why does the rest of India treat Bihar as a lost cause ? Wherever I go there is general lament about Bihari labour creating slums, forgetting that they were there for a purpose. To build our roads, our houses. Why have people got this attitude for a state that was once the greatest centre of learning in the whole world, at the nalanda Unversities. Famous Bihari’s include King Asoka, Chandra Gupt Maurya, Chanakya, Vatsayana, but also Dr rajendra Prasad, Karpoori Thakur, even our current hot favourite – Mahendra Singh Dhoni. And yet if you ask people about Bihar the first name that comes up is Laloo Prasad Yadav. Why not Buddha and Bodh Gaya ?

I received this message that I would love to share :
“We at the Jal Biradari and Tarun Bharat Sangh are organizing a very important Kumbh on 6th and 7th of September in an interior village called Khajura in the Tehsil of Sappotara in Karoli district, Rajasthan. For those water lovers who are fed up with seeing the polluting nature of normal Kumbhs, this Kumbh would be a refreshing and an unforgettable experience. Friends, we just want to make our people understand that the true meaning of Kumbh is not to destroy the rivers but to conserve them. We also want to show you how beautifully any river can be rejuvenated.
Let us understand, first of all how the tradition of gathering for Kumbh started. Once there was a king called Bagiratha who was a farmers’ leader. Those farmers faced a severe water crisis then, which made him to take a pledge of bringing down the Ganga who had been dwelling on the mountains. Along with his 60000 farmers, he worked day in and day out to realize his dream. Finally, Ganga came down to the plains. The farmers on both the side of her started practicing agriculture; their homes became prosperous and their souls were liberated……..

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What are we doing to our environment ? I took this picture in the Kumaon ranges in the HImalayas on the way to Mukhteshwar. I remember travelling here looking for locations for Masoom, my first movie. These were untouched places of immense beauty. This picture was shot at a point where people come to get views of the great Nanda Devi ranges. The second highest peak in the world. The ‘Langur’ that I photographed in this picture looked completely baffled by the rubbish left behind by the tourists, and then she gradually accepted her destiny started to rummage for food in the plastic and other rubbish. Like a stray dog on a rubbish dump in the city…..

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I have never spoken about my divorce publicly before. It is a painful process not only for the two people involved but also for the young children. Both Suchitra and I spent nine very painful and turmoil driven years in a marriage, and though I was not in favour of a divorce because of our daughter Kaveri who was only 7 at that time, Suchitra was the one that had the courage and the resolve to confront me with legal summons while I was in London shooting Golden Age.
In any case we went through a very amicable divorce. I did not hire a lawyer and agreed to all the financial and other terms laid down by Suchitra and her lawyer. I did ask to share custody for kaveri, our daughter, but both Suchitra and her lawyer said that was not possible. The financial settlement included amongst other things, money to buy a house for Suchitra and Kaveri of equal value (as determined by Suchitra) of my sister’s house in mumbai where Kaveri and Suchitra lived in at that time.
Imagine my shock to read in the Mumbai Mirror this morning that made an accusation against me and my family of asking Suchitra and my daughter to move out of the house after one year of the settlement being made, making no mention of the divorce settlement. Nor of the fact that Suchitra was the one insisted on living separately from me.
I would like nothing better than to have my daughter live with me under my roof. But under the divorce terms Suchitra will not allow that. I have never asked Suchitra to conform a date by which she should move to her own house, though my sister, understandably, has.

Anna is still in Tblisi and is yet uncertain about her future and if the war has really ended. She has sent another letter, exploring herself as the people of Tblisi still sit on the edge.
Feeling…Indescribable
I remember that day very well. I was the happiest person. It was cold, winter day and I was walking in the park with my dad. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but possibly I was 6 or 7. The place around was all white like a vanilla cream. It was so beautiful; the trees, bushes, benches, statues, all covered in snow. We played snowball fight, made a big, funny-looking snowman and then we found some piece of a broken sledge and I tobogganed that day a lot. I remember how many times I fell and rolled on the snowy ground. I was wearing many clothes and could hardly move. I remember that my dad and I laughed our heads off. And I remember that heat, which I felt on my reddened cheeks due to the frost.
But then everything changed. The world was not as colorful as it used to be. Rainbow colors got overshadowed with grey and black. Those were carefree days, but then…I felt completely different. I don’t know how it all started. What happened? and when it happened? Once, I was standing in front of a mirror and I felt something weird. I touched my face and my reflection in the mirror did the same. All of a sudden, I felt like a stranger. At that tiny moment I could not recognize myself. Strange, vague thoughts and questions invaded my mind. Who am I? or what am I? And why am I? ……

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