The Dreamheron Diaries - স্বপ্নসারসের দিনলিপি

Wednesday, January 11, 2012


The story of Yajnavalkya and Maitreyi from the ancient Hindu lore goes thus: Yajnavalkya was a very wise sage – learned in the Vedic scriptures. Maitreyi was a young woman seeking timeless wisdom. She became both a beloved wife and a devoted disciple to Yajnavalkya.

They had a wonderful life together. When the husband was nearing the end of his life, he sat the wife down and told her that he was going to leave her a great deal of wealth.

The wife asked: "Will this wealth make me immortal?"

The husband answered: "No, wealth cannot make you immortal."

Then the wife, today revered as one of the wisest women of ancient India, asked her timeless question (in Sanskrit):

Yenaham namritah syam kim aham tena kuryam?
What shall I do with that which will not make me  immortal?

From this simple question flows the following diagram:

Seeking timeless knowledge

Thursday, May 12, 2011


Here is a new book on Bengali adventures in English:

More info.

Thursday, October 07, 2010

Macchu Pichu Night

The Red Room by Matisse

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

IDYLLS by Sayan De

Here I present two works of art by my nephew Sayan De:

Bridges (watercolor) by Sayan De

Untitled (glass painting) by Sayan De

Monday, August 16, 2010


After a long hiatus, I am starting up again – and hoping to keep it up.

In this post I will present a couple of pieces of artwork by my niece Sanchari De ("Pooja") – done when she was in her early teens.


Bodhidharma floating on the Yangtze by Sanchari De (watercolor)
[Click on picture to enlarge]

Bodhidharma, a great Buddhist master, traveled from India across the forbidding Himalayas to revive Buddhism in China. It was a difficult journey with many obstacles, but somehow he managed it. In China he traveled here and there until he arrived in a village near Nanjing. There he saw a crowd had gathered round a Chinese Buddhist monk named Shengguan, who was preaching there. Bodhidharma joined the crowd. As the Chinese monk was expounding on various thoughts, Bodhidharma instinctively nodded his head in approval or disapproval. The monk saw this, and asked Bodhidharma haughtily why the latter was being so judgmental. Bodhidharma did not want to engage this vain monk in a debate, and quietly left. After this, someone from the crowd told Shengguan: "Don't you know that this is the great Indian monk Bodhidharma?!"

Shengguan felt most ashamed, and ran after Bodhidharma to apologize to the latter. But Bodhidharma was long gone. He soon arrived on the banks of the Yangtze. There he found that there was no way to get across the river – no ferryboats, no dinghies, no one in sight. He looked up and down the river bank, and presently saw an old, decrepit lady sitting close to the shore. She had a sheaf of reed piled up next to her. Bodhidharma approached her and said most kindly: "Esteemed Lady, is there something I can do for you?"

The woman smiled and said: "The proper question is what I can do for you."

Bodhidharma became confused. What could this decrepit woman do for him? As if to answer this thought, the woman took a single reed from the sheaf, and offered it to Bodhidharma: "You want to get across the river, and have no way of doing so. Here, take this reed; lay it on water and step on it. It will carry you safely across."

Bodhidharma did exactly as he was told, without any misgivings. As he laid the reed in water, it seemed to swell to a large log. Bodhidharma stood on it. It plowed through water like a swift boat, and delivered him to the other bank. As Bodhidharma stepped off the reed, it changed to a dragonfly, and flew back to the old lady.

Bodhidharma would go forth from here and do the Buddha's work with great distinction, and step right into history.

Now, the monk Shengguan had by now caught up with Bodhidharma. He was standing at a distance as he witnessed this whole phenomenon. He now came to the old lady, and without even speaking to her, took a reed. He floated it on water and stepped on it. Directly he did so, he fell in the river and nearly drowned. Seething with anger, he came to the old lady and said: "What is the meaning of all this?! I saw that you gave the other monk your magic reed. Why did my reed not work?"

The old lady answered: "That monk came to me, said kind words to me, and showed me respect. You, on the other hand, did not even bother to ask me if you could borrow one of my reeds. You simply stole one. You have not learned the Buddha's way of humility. It is you who should apologize to me."

Shengguan saw the light, and profusely apologized. He then left with his head lowered. But on an afterthought, he turned his head to have another look at the lady. She had disappeared. For she was none other than a Bodhisattva, an incarnate of the Buddha himself.


The statue of the Buddha carrying an old monk by Sanchari De (watercolor)
[Click on picture to enlarge]

This is also a story of the power of faith. A very old and frail Buddhist monk resolved to a carry a heavy stone statue of the Buddha a great distance through the woods, to install it in a far monastery. Naturally, it was an impossible task for him, but he did it anyway. The story goes that the monk dragged the statue by fits and starts – a few inches at a time. Then at night, when no one was looking, the statue carried the monk great distances.

Thursday, December 27, 2007


We all know about the Dharma Bums of the sixties – men and women who opted for an alternative life of spiritual quest. Some of them traveled to India. It has been said in jest that they went to "clean their karma." Jest is fine, but I do not view these men and women with any derision. I respect their spirit unconditionally.

It seems that the goal of many of these quests was to find one holy man, one guru, who could give you a single thought of some type to become the guiding light of your life. If you went to the holy places like Varanasi or Hardwar and asked around, you would hear about many such gurus of many descriptions. One might live in an inaccessible forest. One might be completely in the state of nature. One might have taken a vow of silence. One may have chosen to remain standing for a year. And so on. So you decided to trek and visit the one that most caught your imagination.

Once you came to the place of your would-be master, it was never clear that he would receive you or speak to you. You might be tested as to how sincere your quest was. But if you were past all these, and were in presence of the man, what did you do then? I understand that you remained silent and let the man take the lead. If he spoke, you listened. If he did not speak, you waited. But if you were truly in luck, an opportunity would present itself somehow for you to ask what you came to ask.

Now comes the important part. There was also an existing protocol for this process. I do not know how that protocol came about or how it got promulgated. But it was very much there. You did not just shoot off questions. You had the opportunity to ask one question. One question. You had better make that one shot count. So you had to formulate the question with great forethought and great cleverness, and then put it to the man. And hope for the best.

So what would you ask? I have heard two formulations of the question that could elicit the 'maximum' answer. One is: What is the way? And the other is: What is the journey? These are both well thought out questions. What do you think? Can you best this formulation? Probably not. Unless of course you wanted to be cute and asked:

What is the question?