Boys of Baraka

I recently watched a movie which is so poignant and maybe even the saddest film I have ever seen.

The film is called The Boys of Baraka and it is a documentary about African-American boys struggling in the inner city of Baltimore. They come from troubled surroundings filled with drugs, parents in prison and an atmosphere of chaos in the local public schools. Chosen to attend a special school in Kenya to help boys improve academically and mature emotionally, the film is a remarkable odyssey which the filmmakers spent three years in the making. It has won various film festival awards for best documentary. I'm ambivalent in recommending it because I shed many tears while watching it but it is a powerful and moving story. You can learn more about the film by listening to an NPR review of the film It also will be shown in September on television on PBS. Learn more about the movie at the PBS website and check local listings for American public television viewings of the film.  Be sure to use RealPlayer not Quicktime when you listen to the NPR audio file about the movie. Boys of Baraka

Fascinating Listening

Since blogging regularly theoretically involves writing regularly, I'm mentioning an audiobook that I'm currently listening to for the second time because I liked it so much. It's a collection called "The Best of NPR : Writers on Writing." It includes interviews with May Sarton, Roddy Doyle, Joan Didion, Sharon Olds, Anne Lamott, Walter Mosley, John McPhee and others.

NPR picked the best of their interviews with writers and asked them questions about being a writer or about their works. Some of the authors I have never read and am intrigued to pursue more of their offerings. On the tape, the book "A River Runs Through It" is particularly popular and and I was particularly moved by the interview with May Sarton as well.

I guess I'm a little behind the learning curve in the audiobook world in that I don't have an Ipod or listen to podcasts. My oldish car just has a cassette player and I fiind that there are still many interesting books on tape available from the local library.

If you want to ponder the subject of writing, I highly recommend this collection. Maybe I will even quote some of the writers as a follow-up later.

 

Under God's Protection

It was evening and I was travelling by car with my father from Bratislava to Prague. From the very beginning my father asked me to sing Sri Chinmoy's songs, so I was singing. Finally he asked me what was Guru's most powerful song. I told him about the Invocation, Guru's most powerful song invoking the Presence of the Supreme. I told him that I could sing and he could imagine that inside his heart he was folding his hands.
When I finished singing the Invocation, it was all silent for at least 10 minutes, as we drove along the highway in the dark. Then suddenly our car went out of control. We spun around and crashed hard into the middle of the railing with the back of the car. We turned around again and stopped. During this accident I was saying aloud very fast, "Supreme, Supreme&quot. I opened my eyes and discovered that I was in my father's arms. He was looking at me with his eyes wide open, smiling, and asked, "What were you saying?" He felt that only because of Guru and the Invocation were we still alive. It was a miracle that nothing had happened to us. We were in Guru's hands.


Bipula (Prague)

The Healing Heart


Sri Chinmoy was visiting Melbourne in 1984 to give a Peace Concert, and I had the honour of driving him around. We were doing some shopping and going to a restaurant. Upon our return to the car, I accidentally got my arm caught in the door as it was being closed. A loud "crack" was heard as the metal frame bore down against my forearm. I immediately said to myself, "My God, it's broken!"
Everyone in the car except Guru expressed concern. Guru, on the other hand, turned quickly with an intense and penetrating look on his face and said nothing until I sat down in the driver's seat. He was very sweet and quietly asked, "Is it all right?"
I replied, "It's fine, Guru," and indeed it was. Everyone was astonished.
All this happened within the space of about 10 seconds and then we drove away to another shopping appointment, as I basked in the experience of a heart filled with gratitude.

Kishore (Melbourne)
 

Of Life And Death


You could see the photo of this car accident in almost every newspaper in Switzerland: a Madal Bal van with Sri Chinmoy's photograph inside, pierced by a crash-barrier that rose up behind the car into the sky more than 10 metres. This experience was like a nightmare from my childhood in which I found myself in a cruel, hopeless situation and desperately fought to wake up. But this time I did not succeed, not until Guru freed me from this abysmal abyss with his loving care.
I tried to get out of the van, but my right leg wouldn't move. When I tried to lift it with my hand, my fingers found themselves between flesh and bones, covered with blood. I was so shocked and horrified that I didn't notice that a bar from the destroyed seat had speared me.
Enough facts for despair. I was extremely lucky that I had already been a disciple of Sri Chinmoy's for almost two years—long enough to have a lot of faith in him. Otherwise I would have perished miserably then.
When the doctor, who was standing at the left side of my bed, started to elaborate on the "facts", my wife Usha, whose presence I now became aware of, interrupted him at once. Smiling bravely at me, she said to me that she had been able to talk to Guru about my accident. His blessingful, compassionate message for me said I shouldn't worry because everything would become again like it was before. This was definitely the happiest moment of my life. Guru's prediction-promise was my blissful salvation. Of course, there were still many tough moments to come, but he would always be there to save me.
During the time at the hospital, I felt like a helpless child lying safely in the arms of his mother. Usha was Guru's faithful messenger. She helped me to keep my focus on Guru amidst all the pain and the doctors' doubting minds.
Some divine miracle-facts: When I had this accident, a nurse was driving behind me. If she hadn't tied off my leg in time, I would have never made it to the hospital alive. Then, during the more than five hours of surgery, the hospital staff were able to trace my wife in Zurich, about 100 miles away. Somehow she managed to arrive at the hospital just in time to stop the doctors from amputating the injured leg. Now they needed her permission. She was able to phone Guru in New York and tell him about the situation. He told her not to allow the amputation and to make sure to be near me when I woke up and to tell me at once that I shouldn't worry.
The next miracle was that the director of the intensive care unit, who was an excellent microsurgeon but on leave from his job at that time, had been visiting the hospital just on the evening I was taken there. Because it was a very serious and complicated case, they had to allow him to operate on me. He was very eager to do an excellent job.
Another miracle was that I wasn't paralysed, because the base of the spine had been totally smashed. During the following years, the feeling in my back, legs and feet recovered completely. Also, I survived a very bad lung embolism that occurred during the surgery and forced the doctors to stop.
Next miracle: the doctors were convinced that I would have to wear this terrible plastic bag for the rest of my life. But fortunately, the microsurgeon's substitute was one of the best colostomy specialists in Europe. He liked me and therefore was inspired to examine me once more. I had to invent quite a few white lies to convince him that it made sense to recommend another surgery. When the microsurgeon heard about that and noticed that the operation was supposed to take place on the first day of his return to work, he decided at once to do it himself. He again did an excellent job. The doctors needed a whole week to decide how to cover the open bone, and in spite of their unconcealed scepticism, the surgery was successful.
Shortly before the accident, Usha and I had missed the registration for the upcoming university semester and, without being aware of it, had also thus lost our health insurance. This meant I would have had to pay more than sixty thousand dollars to the hospital myself. But the insurance company agreed to take Usha back into the health plan and, since we were married, to pay my hospital fees.
The doctors were convinced that I would have to stay in the hospital at least until autumn. But I left in the middle of July, and in August I went on a plane to New York to see Guru—although with crutches and a removable cast. When I left the hospital, some of the doctors and nurses told me how inspired they had been by the wondrous outcome of this "tragic, hopeless case". But they also told me not to expect more—for example, to ever be able to run again. They were convinced that I wouldn't even be able to walk properly.
But less than three years later, on a chilly January morning in New York, Guru's presence helped me win the Rainbow Marathon in a new personal record of 2:55. And only one year later I came in second behind my friend Hutashan at the 47-mile race in a personal record of 5:55.
I'll never forget the silent ecstasy that I felt in the hospital each time I sang the line of the Invocation: "Supreme, I am Thy glowing Grace." And I'll never forget the amazement in the eyes of one of the nurses when she saw me crying during one of my numerous sleepless nights. She came near to console me, only to discover that I was crying with joy—joy because of the sleepless and breathless blessing-guidance of my Guru, which turned this most difficult experience into the most fulfilling period of my life.


Shaktidhar (Zurich)

In Dark Moments

Years ago, during the winter Guru used to practise tennis shots indoors in our old Progress-Promise meeting hall. Guru used a ball machine, which would eject balls at some considerable speed, and Guru would fire them back over a net that had been temporarily erected for his practice sessions. Some of us boys would scurry behind the net collecting balls as fast as Guru could hit them.
On one particular morning, I was not in a very good consciousness, but my saving grace was that I was aware of the situation and I desperately wanted to lift myself out of this mood. I said to myself, "What I need is a good knock on the head to jolt myself out of this state." Not one second later a tennis ball came flying my way courtesy of Guru's racquet and smacked me squarely in the head. It was a perfect hit!
Guru cried out, "Sorry, sorry!" but I could detect a wry grin on his face, and I was deeply grateful for my tennis-ball illumination.

Kishore (Melbourne)

Giving meditation classes

DevashishuMy name is Devashishu and I live in London. When people ask me what I do, I find it difficult to give a concise answer. Currently I teach English (TEFL), I promote music and sports events, I write plays and perform in a music group, I do security work, I conduct surveys, I assist in the instalment of sundials and water features and on top of this I spend a third of each year travelling the globe – a jack of all trades and master of none. The one activity that has been a consistent part of my life for the past twenty years is the giving of meditation classes, through which I have earned not one penny but have discovered wealth of a different nature. 

In fact, when someone asks you ‘What do you do?’, they are actually asking ‘Who are you?’ They hope that from your response they will have a better knowledge of who you are. But in my experience, we know very little about our own existence, let alone of those around us. I grew up with meditation, and due to its capacity to imbue the journey of self-discovery with tremendous joy and strength, it has remained an integral and constant element in my life. 

I give meditation classes on the authority of my teacher, Sri Chinmoy. I am a seeker, and as part of my spiritual discipline, I have been given the opportunity to share my experiences and my limited knowledge with other seekers. That ‘sharing’ plays a vital role in my own journey of self discovery.  

When we start to meditate we soon become conscious that we are dealing with an infinite source of energy, an infinite intelligence. Through the regular daily practice of simple techniques, we develop our capacity to conduct that energy. This development of capacity is an expansion of consciousness. If you imagine a vast lake then through our meditation we are creating a passage or a river. But for there to be a river and a constant flow of water there needs to be an outlet to the sea. That outlet is vital to the health and vibrancy of the river. In the silence of meditation we discover a profound source of peace, light and bliss and we need to offer these qualities to the world around us. This can be done in a number of ways and for me the meditation classes have provided the perfect way. 

I have been fortunate to see many countries and to date I have given classes in the UK, Ireland, France, Austria, the Czech and Slovak republics, Poland, Greece, Romania, Russia, the Ukraine, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Cambodia, Vietnam, Malaysia, Indonesia, the Philippines, Japan, the Bahamas, Brazil, Mexico, Canada and the United States. 

Despite what we see and hear on our daily news programmes, I have discovered a world of astounding beauty. In each and every place I was greeted with the warmth and hospitality that I have come to know as the universal hallmark of the human heart. The ideals of compassion and friendship are valued by the majority of the people with whom we share this planet. There are many cultures, races, religions and political viewpoints, and in spirituality we find a common ground that far transcends the illusion of separation and limitation. In all human beings there is a profound thirst for satisfaction and it is in meditation that we can find a true and fulfilling way to slake this thirst. 

I am very grateful for the opportunity to give meditation classes. When I am standing before a class I feel the tangible joy and satisfaction of my teacher and am reminded that I am, indeed, the eternal student.

- Devashishu Torpy

Video on Meditation