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Published: November 25th 2008
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My life on a table
As I found it one day:
(left to right)
Sandels, Delhi Guidebook, two books on Sufism, Kissables, a fashion mag (I swear its not mine), water bottle, moleskine/pencil, backpack, letters, P. Coelho book, notebook, more Sufism, E. Tolle book, book on Qawwali, staff paper, metronome, bracelet, rupees Disclaimer:
This blog contains the memories that didnt quite fit into any other blogs. I thought about calling this entry, "One Day in the Life of Derek Tilton", but that would not fit since this was not any one particular day. Be warned that there are both light and dark shades of my experiences thus far. However, remember, it is just a blog and thus it cannot hurt you...much...
Memory:
"If Stareing were an Olympic sport", the boy thought as he walked down the street in South Delhi," India would sweep the medal stand...the only question is, would it be a winter or summer event?"
Memory:
What is the difference between a Slave and a Servant? When the boy hears the names "Rakeeeeesh" "Sangeetaaaaa" or "Sareeeeesh" yelled from across the house, for some silly little errand that wouldn't take half a calorie to perform by oneself...the boy begins to wonder.
Memory:
Two Indian men, rather skinny and with shaky movements, covered with many layers of clothing to help protect from the increasing cold of the evening. One man takes two small handkerchiefs from his pocket and hands one to the second man who procures a small nail polish-sized
missing
I suppose I should start practicing glass from the inside of his coat. The man then drips a few drops of the clear liquid into both handkerchiefs and then moves the cloth up toward his face. The boy turns and walks across the street before witnessing more.
Memory:
The boy sits up as people start making "oohs" and "aahs". He strains his neck to see what is coming and see it. A whole goat--headless, footless, charred, delicious....
Memory:
A group of students from around the US are sitting at the end of a delicious meal in a restaurant called Nasir Iqbal. The students are wondering what to do next. The boy suggests a local club he knows of which has Salsa dancing every Thursday night. Another student says, "I wanna smoke, you think I can roll one in here?" The boy looks around at the restaurant and sees a young Muslim boy happily shoveling food into his mouth and responds, "Are you half kidding or only mostly kidding?" The other student replies, "No man! Indians are totally fine with that sort of thing."
Memory:
Outside of a street side juice vendor who just served all of the students freshly made (albeit rather unsanitary)
Good...
A meal I prepared for myself one night sugar cane juice. The off-green liquid runs down the boys throat in both a sweet and a sour fashion...He begins to wonder if drinking it was such a good idea.
Memory:
With money in hand, he attempts to pay the rickshaw driver who pulls a small baggy out of his pocket and asks, "Do you want Hashish?" The boy shakes his head, forces the rupees for the ride into the drivers hand, and walks toward his building.
Memory:
The boy sits with his Qawwali guru in the restaurant of a 4-star hotel at 2:30 in the morning. The boy had long finished his hot chocolate and the guru had nearly finished his second cup of coffee. They are getting along quite well as the conversation moves from music, to philosophy, to sex, back to music quite seamlessly. The boy quickly realizes that he still has a lot of things to think about.
Memory:
The boy swishes and spits the Listerine into the sink. He looks up into the mirror. He hadn't noticed before, but he had grown. It was obvious with his hair length, but otherwise he had failed to notice the subtle shift in facial dimension.
and tasty
Another meal... He was older, not much, but definitely some. He wondered what other, less noticeable things had changed since he first stepped off that plane and into the world of spice, sweat, stench, and other sensations that was India.
Found on the inscribed on a wall inside the tomb of Hazrat Inayat Khank:
SALAT
MOST GRACIOUS LORD,
MAST, MESSIAH AND SAVIOR
OF HUMANITY
WE GREET THEE IN ALL HUMILITY.
THOU ART THE FIRST CAUSE
AND THE LAST EFFECT,
THE DIVINE LIGHT AND
THE SPIRIT OF GUIDANCE,
ALPHA AND OMEGA.
THY LIGHT IS IN ALL FORMS,
THY LOVE IN ALL BEINGS;
IN A LOVING MOTHER
IN A KIND FATHER,
IN AN INNOCENT CHILD,
IN A HELPFUL FRIEND,
IN AN INSPIRING TEACHER.
ALLOW US TO RECOGNIZE THEE IN ALL
THY HOLY NAMES AND FORMS;
AS RAMA, AS KRISHNA,
AS SHIVA, AS BIDDHA,
LET US KNOW THEE AS ABRAHAM,
AS SOLOMAN, AS ZARATHUSTRA,
AS MOSES, AS JESUS, AS MUHAMMAD,
AND IN MANY OTHER NAMES
AND FORMS,
KNOWN AND UNKNOWN
TO THE WORLD.
WE ADORE THY PAST,
The process
The Juice-wala THY PRESENCE DEEPLY
ENLIGHTENETH OUT BEING,
AND WE LOOK FOR
THY BLESSING IN THE FUTURE.
O MESSENGER, CHRIST, NABI,
THE RASUL OF GOD:
THOU WHOSE HEART
CONSTANTLY PREACHETH UPWARD,
THOU COMEST ON EARTH
WITH A MESSAGE.
AS A DOVE FROM ABOVE WHEN
DHARMA DECAYETH,
AND SPEAKEST THE WORD
THAT IS PUT INTO THEY MOUTH,
AS THE LIGHT FILLETH THE
CRESCENT MOON.
LET THE STAR OF DIVINE LIGHT SHINNING
IN THY HEART BE REPLICATED IN
THE HEARTS OF THY DEVOTEES.
MAY THE MESSAGE OF GOD
REACH FAR AND WIDE,
ILLUMINATING AND
MAKING THE WHOLE HUMANITY AS
ONE SINGLE BROTHERHOOD
IN THE FATHERHOOD OF GOD
AMEN
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Uncle John
non-member comment
Johnny come lately
Derek ... I'm sorry to say I just now read all of your blogs for the very first time .. but I enjoyed them all IMMENSELY. Thanks for sharing ... you're a wonderful writer. It's clear that your journey is more spiritual and emotional than physical (now I know why you picked India). When did this young boy grow into such a fine, introspective, inquisitive, and caring young man?? :-) Keep enjoying this wonderful adventure we call life. Have fun, be safe, and we'll see when you soon. Love ya' .. Uncle John