A Raja of the Road

Balvinder Singh, son of Punjab Singh, Prince of Taxi Drivers, may your moustache never grow grey! Nor your liver cave in with cirrhosis. Nor your precious Hindustan Ambassador ever again crumple in a collision – like the one we had with the van carrying Mongo Frooty Drink.

Although during my first year in Delhi I remember thinking that the traffic had seemed both anarchic and alarming, by my second visit I had come to realize that it was in fact governed by very strict rules. Right of way belongs to the driver of the largest vehicles. Buses give way to heavy trucks, Ambassadors give way to buses, and bicyclists give way to everything except pedestrians. On the road, as in many other aspects of Indian life, Might is Right.

 

Yet Mr Balvinder Singh is an individualist who believes in the importance of asserting himself. While circumstances may force him to defer to buses and lorries, he has never seen the necessity of giving way to the tinny new Maruti vans which, though taller than his Ambassador, are not so heavily built. After all, Mr Singh is a Kshatriya by caste, a warrior, and like his ancestors he is keen to show that he is afraid of nothing. He disdains such cowardly acts as looking in wing mirrors or using his indicators. His Ambassador is his chariot, his klaxon his sword. Weaving into the oncoming traffic, playing ‘chicken’ with the other taxis, Balvinder Singh is a Raja of the Road.

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The pounding waves

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For me, sitting relaxed in a beach-front café, watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean, the fishing boats setting out for the night present an idyllic scene: life in all its richness, there for all to enjoy.

For the stripped-down men, battling their way against the incessant, pounding waves, the reality is so, so different. Night after night the beat goes on. Every four seconds another wave builds , curves, and crashes down, hungrily sucking up the warm salt tide. On and on, a relentless cycle, heedless of the sultry weather, the oppressive thunder, the tranquil beauty.

Give us this day our daily grind.

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Bonaventure

Do not walk away from darkness,

Therein lies a greater light;

Deeper beauty, yet unseen

  my heart seeks out

  thy mystery.

.

Seek not out the road well-trodden,

  paths of knowing,

  truth revealed.

Embrace, instead, the clouds of silence

Lose thyself in depths

  unknown.

 

 

JMW-Turner-Stormy-Sea-Breaking-on-a-Shore

 

Inspired by Richard Rohr, Eager to Love, Chapter 12: Bonaventure

(though I’m not quite sure where this is leading!)

 

 

Attachment: a contemplative companion to chapter 7 of Growing up to be a child

Esther 1992Chapter seven of Growing up to be a child explores a child’s social development, how she learns to relate to other people, and in particular, the importance of attachment relationships:

In essence, attachment refers to a close emotional proximity between one person and another. We see this most clearly between a baby and her mother. The attachment bond provides security for the baby, along with emotional closeness that works both ways. Interestingly, attachment only really becomes significant in the context of separation. Indeed, the very purpose of attachment is to provide a secure base from which the developing child can explore the world; its ultimate goal is to enable independence. This is really quite important.

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Beautiful Morality

In his book, Eager to Love (I am only part way through, but this is fast becoming my number one book of the year), Richard Rohr explores what he refers to as ‘beautiful morality’ in the lives of St Francis and St Clare. In contrast to much of the religiosity of their day (and ours) he sees in Francis and Clare a new self and a new way of living:

The self they became was humanly believable and beautiful, and that also made their moral choices trustworthy and true.

(p63)

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Rohr goes on to describe what this beautiful morality looks like:

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Preparing the Passover

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A loaf of bread, a sprig of herbs, a bowl of fruit.

Whole, unbroken, waiting.

Hopeful, pregnant, yearning.

Their fragrance trapped, goodness bound,

longing to be set free.

~

Can I step in from the dusty road?

Wash my feet, my face, my hands?

Can I take the knife and break

the bread?

Crush the herbs of bitter pain?

~

Perhaps I, too, will be broken.

No tears spared.

No easy Passover fare.

 

Greenbelt, 31 August 2015

 

Strength: a contemplative companion to Chapter 5 of Growing up to be a child.

As a paediatrician, I am often referred young children who are delayed in their development, including those who are slow in learning to walk. When I am assessing a young child’s ability to stand and walk, I need to provide him with support and a stable base so he feels secure.

 

Esther 1993In this contemplative guide, we take time to reflect on a child’s journey in learning to walk and our own spiritual journeys. Through a prayer of examen or a meditation on scripture, we draw near to our loving creator, who is there to hold each one of us securely in his embrace, giving us the strength and courage to take those first, tentative steps.

 

Click here to go to the contemplative companion to Chapter 5 of Growing up to be a child.