Category: children

A walk with The Gita for Children by Roopa Pai

If you’ve got a child aged 12 or around, you would most likely have enough data on their likes and interests and you would probably see that some subjects always prick their ears and they like discussing them. Among football, biology, history and Minecraft, religious studies are my son’s favourite. He is very keen on learning and discussing different religious wisdoms, beliefs, traditions, and customs. When I was sent The Gita for Children by Roopa Pai by IBBY (International Board of Books for Young People) two years ago, I was thrilled. I knew that we could have a good time together.

The Gita for Children written by Roopa Pai and it is an introduction to The Gita, the sacred scripture of the Hindus. The book has a very intriguing purple, golden and dark blue cover and beautifully drafted drawings inside by Sayan Mukherjee and the elements of script that I could not recognize or comprehend. The elements of script used in the book are shlokas, otherwise understood as stanzas of Bhaghavad Gita.

Two years ago the book however was a bit too dense and difficult for our son to delve into with my help and on his own, but as we know, children mature and their mind’s abstract conceptual maps grow with them and what was a bit early to access two years ago, may find fertile ground in a boy who has just started his secondary school and is mature enough to admit: ‘Mum, I need your guidance. I need a lot of it.’ Now, this is a terrifying request for most of us, adults, these days as we seem to be navigating without a compass through the obstacles and challenges of our era, unsure which ways lead to greater good and less internal turmoil. If you read the backside cover of The Gita for Children, you are already presented with some answers, as the publisher, Swift, chose the following extract from the book:

‘The truth is, Partha,’ Krishna said, ‘there is no “better” path. Both paths – the path of knowledge and the path of action – work just as well. It is up to you to pick the one that you are suited to.”

This permission to choose a path encourages you to read on and learn more about The Gita and delve into this introduction to the sacred scripture of the Hindus and to slow down a bit to learn and reflect on wisdoms that we are surrounded with but we do not access. I took Roopa Pai’s book for a walk in Derby around our local canal to breathe in its wisdom with fresh air and I thought I’ll share with you here some of my favourite quotes as they may speak to you too.

“… the soul goes to that which the mind has been thinking about in its last moments.” p. 118

“ God does not belong to the privileged. (…)

All He needs is love.”

“Think of me as infinite space, the space around and above me below you – the grand theatre of the suns and the stars and the might wind; which holds the seed of everything in the Universe” p.132

“I do not favour one being over another; they are all the same to me…”

“Go(o)d will find a way.” p.65

“From goodness is born knowledge, and the fruit of the action is joy; from passion arises greed, and the fruit of passionate action is pain; from dullness arises negligent and wrong action, and its fruit is ignorance.” p. 194

I hope you enjoyed the walk with The Gita.

P.S.1. As if by chance ‘gita’ in Italian means ‘a walk’ while the holy scripture ‘Gita’ means ‘a song’.

P.S.2. For all those who love to walk, this walk started at Stenson Marina in Derby, walk towards Willington Marina (to the right while facing the canal).

(in the next post I will share with you some photographs from the celebration of Diwali that took place in Derby. It does not happen too often when Diwali is celebrated on the same day as Halloween and a day before the Catholic celebration of All Saints (in Poland also knows as the Day of the Deceased when we place candles and wreathes on our ancestor’s graves and reminisce about them).

Made it

The sea was unassumingly grey and boring as much as I would prefer to say otherwise. The tiny waves, however, were falling so abruptly. There must have been a sudden drop in depth close to the beach line. ‘This doesn’t look like a safe paddling pool for children’, I thought to myself but who was I to tell? And who was I to test the truth of my own assumptions or my swimming skills? Not with a frozen shoulder.

Camera felt quite cumbersome with my disability. I felt awkward lifting it up above my chest and photographing birds seemed inappropriate with a shoulder that was grieving its loss of capability but I was bored and actually I have been feeling bored for a while now, regularly experiencing a fed-up mama syndrome that simply manifests itself by wanting to reach for something and feeling that I shouldn’t be wanting to reach for anything besides my child’s hand, perhaps.

The wind was unpleasant, slicing through my jacket as if I was a window of opportunity rather than a human being made of fat and tissue. ‘No amount of fat can make up for a protective layer’ I reproach myself. Better to invest in a new jacket than an extra portion of food. I thought but I honestly did not see myself following on this wisdom too promptly.

I’ve been feeling quite removed from my children lately; partially because of my preoccupations and largely because of their speed. That I find so hard to match.

I’ve been dreaming of going somewhere where I cannot be reached, where I am not disturbed but where I can safely observe everything from afar – a spot difficult enough for the kids to reach – where they cannot disturb me and I do not need to interfere in their play. The place of non-interference.

I saw a lady sitting on the beach supported by the cliff’s wall, writing. And I felt such peace when I saw her as if she was where she was supposed to be. I exhaled. I was so happy for her. So glad. The feeling of peace overwhelmed me like a warm blanket and the sun arrived at the same time and I could do no more but to accept its non-scorching fire.

The children were the first ones to discover the pier. It was hiding below the horizon as if it was their prize for daring feet unphased by the discomfort of beach pebbles. And here it was – a spacious playground and a new viewpoint.

Two photographers came over. They were changing their lenses as if to remind me to change mine. So I did. The wide angle lens transformed the birds into small moving objects against which the cliffs majestically stood their ground.

The sea licked the cliffs like a small puppy its owner – unapologetically loving its face. Jealous of their interaction, I climbed down the ladder fastened to the pier and landed in water next to a chalky rock caressed by foamy waves. I climbed the rock covered with seaweed and positioned myself in a place that would somehow absorb it all. I had only felt half of my body on the descent. I was holding the steel staircase ladder with both hands but I do not have much grip in my left hand. It’s the unreliable hand. I got anxious. What would happen if I lose grip in my right hand – there would be nothing to support me then. ‘You still have it.’ I eased my brain and climbed down while my husband passed me the camera.

I was chuffed with the photos.

‘The ground made it to heaven’ I thought to myself. For He is risen.

Easter 2024, Beer, Devon, United Kingdom

Trust

When I started writing Postcards Without Stamps I was following Inked in Colour and I was very inspired by Sash’s letters to her daughter that create a beautiful and thoughtful dialogue with Bo. Some of Sash’s photographs also stick in my mind till this day, especially the one of her daughter holding a feather as if giving a challenge to her mum to write for her (link to her post here). Of course, this is most likely my own projection onto the photo and a reveal of my own sub-conscious need to express love through writing which wants to be met here.

The post below is not a letter as such but perhaps a poem or a lyric to a song and it is just one of those things that wanted to be written.

There I will be

There are moments in life when past and present collapse into one.

When the future is impossible to predict and days impossible to plan,

when tomorrow seems too distant to arrive – in those days, my Princess,

there I will be

your Trust.

When your life will seem too much to handle, there I will be, my Princess, your Trust.

When the pain of regrets will swallow your courage, there I will be, my Princess, your Trust.

When your joys will dissipate and where the hopes will turn into ash, there I will stay my Princess,

your Trust.

In the cities of angels

Someone always keeps an eye on you.

Trust.