Thursday, November 25, 2010

My Introduction to Kahlil Gibran --

I have an anecdote to share. It is about how I got introduced to Kahlil Gibran. Those were the days when I was on a self discovery entourage; and its amazing how mellifluous things fall into right places once you decide upon something. There were questions looming in my mind: answers were few. In one such aimless travels I found my luminary. The town was Coorg situated on the western ghats of the state of Karnataka. A town that has a charm of delightful yore- Coorg easily takes you back by few decades. People are very friendly; you are greeted all along with pleasantries; no suspicious eyes, just warm smiles. I befriended a similar friendly local, who offered to act as my tour guide. We started off from Coorg museum. A large humongous colonial architectural piece, which except its huge lawns and medieval cannons had nothing much to offer. After a few hours of loitering around the lazy town, he took me to his friends farm house: 40 kms away from the main town. Timma, my guides friend, was a 45 year old man living a hippie lifestyle. He had a lovely farm house decked up on a mountain ridge: street dogs were taken care here and art was visible all along; on walls; on clothes and in his pleasant talks. We were like a house on fire. Long discussions ran deep into the night with retro music playing all along on his satellite radio. Next day I woke up late to a coffee cup awaiting me. Timma handed over me a frail and visibly old book just when I had the first sip of my brewed coffee. On its cover page written in italics was, "The Wisdom of Kahlil Gibran."  It was one of those kinds, that are murkish yellow in color and smell peculiarly. I don't know why Timma wanted me to read that book. I guess it had a lot to do with the discussions we had about love, life and religion the previous night. He told me it was gifted to him by his grandfather and he valued it the most. I vividly remember turning those pages and getting engrossed completely in the book, inhaling the aroma of printer's ink and dust, my questions began to find their answers in Gibran's subtle words. The haze in front of me was waning through the illuminating inspirational words. I stood up, hugged my friend and thanked him for the treasure that I was exposed to:  from that day I have been reading his works: amazed all the time and quietly whispering countless thanks to my spiritual friend. Thanks Timma. May God bless you always.