26th Jan, 1995 - it all started with the reluctant picnic...

It was a cold January morning and we stood sipping drinks on the lawns of the bird sanctuary. I was with a group of people not really close. And then the bee-swarm - it came sweeping all over us, crawling into the hair, the clothes; and we ran. We landed finally at the place that was the closest and most convenient - the factory where I worked.

It was a strange experience to observe myself - an 'almost stranger' slowly getting absorbed into this group of people who just a few moments ago had not been really close. It was puzzling - even in retrospect. And quite soon the conversation became smooth and free flowing.

On the return journey I listened with half an ear as my wife's friend talked of her 'profound' experience at a seminar, extolling my wife to just 'do it'. Finally when she was about to disembark, the friend turned to me and said "Bau - if she doesn't do it - you must!"

I was taken aback. In the time I had known her, my wife's friend had never spoken directly to me before. But my curiosity was piqued. I was left wondering : What was it that could have caused this lady to overcome her restrained and conservative background?

I did the seminar in November '95.

I had to answer a simple question in the form - what did I expect to achieve by doing the seminar? Being contented with life, I discarded a lot of options that came to mind, looking deeper for something that would be really worthwhile.

And I wrote : "I used to write excellent poetry in college and am unable to do it now. By doing the seminar I expect to correct the imbalances in my life and start writing again."

On the last day of the seminar when I reached home late at night I picked up my pen to write. But what wanted to gush out was flowing too fast. I could not write quickly enough. I just put on my wife's desk-top and keyed in what is below:

Date: 19^th Nov 95

THREE DAYS IN NOVEMBER

We were a motley group of all ages

Collected together

Young, grey-haired, quagmired and bogged down

Waiting

For the time to pass us by.

Then

For three days in November

A strange thing happened.

Time stopped,

And there was a conversation.

We, the young and the grey-haired talked.

Time asked.

We, the young and the grey-haired answered.

From far below

The marsh gases rose to the surface in anger

As ugly memories

Harsh, Unrepentant, warped,

Demanding retribution.

In the silence

What could be heard

Was only the sound of anguish.

An answering voiced cracked in pain

And from an individual sea of frustration, anger and despair

A tear welled out

Then another and another and another

Till it became a river flowing from four hundred sources,

The river flowed within and without

Gentle and cleansing

It flowed onto the marsh

Softening the ragged memories

Purging the ugliness.

With the river

The poison from within

Flowed out

And dissolved in the river that flowed on the marsh.

The healing had begun.

Time talked and the conversation went on

And slowly the pain subsided, perceptions changed.

And we walked out slowly, hesitantly

Onto a flickering path ahead,

Slowly

Instead of anguish

Laughter bubbled up to the surface

And then on the third day there was rejoicing.

Time flowed on.

Today

We, a group

Of the young and the grey haired,

Stand together,

Healed from within.

Old in experience,

But innocent in life,

Ready

To love and be loved, to cherish and be cherished,

To grow and develop,

And to become an identity for each within.