PLUCKING STARS FROM THE SKY

Someone is waiting there, for years, to do some charity. He says he wants to first become rich, make lots of money… and then he wants to do charity, help others. 

Someone is waiting there for the Messiah to come. He says, his life would be fine after the Savior comes.

And, there is someone who goes around saying that the seasons are wrong, the Sun is too hot, the moon is not full, and the stars are too far, too tiny in the sky. He says when all these heavenly bodies change, he too will… He will be inspired to write his poems.

All are waiting!


The man, in the mean time, makes and blows a lot of money. He is not rich enough to do his charity. The Messiah comes and goes. The man doesn’t notice Him… It is still not the time for him to be ‘fine’, to be ‘saved’. Then, our poet. Yes, the seasons come and go… The Sun takes birth early in the morning, like a tender baby, in the East and retires like a gentle bride late evening in the West; the moon - crescent, half or full or no moon… the stars in the sky, whether they are golden or brown, whether they are the stars that guide or herald… this man, this poet, is just unable to find his inspiration. He is waiting. Yes, all are waiting!

Charity needs a heart. A rich heart. Till I don’t possess one, no matter how much money I make, I will never spare a rupee for the needy.

Messiah comes when my heart longs for Him. And, He may come in the form of a friend, a teacher, a neighbor, a new-born, a beggar or even my bitter tormentor. I need a longing heart - a heart ridden off my self-righteous and all-knowing heaviness.  Yes, Blessed are the ‘meek’ – for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to them.

Poems just spring… and the Stars smile, the Moon weeps and the Sun warms. There is no season for poems unless my heart is ‘available’… unless I am awake when the Sun, the Moon and the Stars appear in the sky.

I need very ordinary, very mundane things to make me charitable, to make me feel fine… or, to make me write poems. There is an oceanic vastness – a hearts-stopping awe - concealed in every mundane thing around me. The baby is born or it dies the moment it arrives. A lot of money I make or the creditors hound me day in and day out… The Sun is hot, the Moon is Crescent or the Stars are too small… the mundane is there all around, all the time. In mundane lies the magic of inspiration for life. 

Someone, just a while before, asked me, “How can you write such beautiful things from such ordinary events?”

Honestly, I do not know how I do it. I just do it… That’s it.

Perhaps, I remain ‘open’ – ‘available’ – when all the so-called mundane drama unfolds before me. Yes, perhaps, that is the secret. When my heart is open, the Universe operates… and, my heart begins to sing… Soul begins to soar… Life begins to assume a meaning. It becomes a celebration. 

No, I do not have to wait to be spiritual. For, the spirit of God hovers over His every little creation. Tonight, I will stretch my hands to pluck Stars from the sky. After all, He has made them for me, for my happiness.

Hasn’t He? 

GERALD D'CUNHA