YOUR DREAMS AND MINE


tere, mere, sapne, 
YOUR DREAMS AND MINE

ab ek rangg hai.n, 
ARE NOW OF THE SAME HUE,

Ohhh…

jahaa.n bhee le jaaye.n raahe.n, 
WHEREVER THE PATHS MAY LEAD

hamm sangg hai.n, 
WE’RE TOGETHER.

Ohh….

tere mere sapne, 
YOUR DREAMS AND MINE

ab ek rangg hai.n, 
ARE NOW OF THE SAME HUE,

Ohhh…

jahaa.n bhee le jaaye.n raahe.n, 
WHEREVER THE PATHS MAY LEAD

hamm sangg hai.n… 
WE’RE TOGETHER!

mere tere dil kaa, 
MY HEART AND YOURS

tayy thaah ek din milnaa, 
WERE FATED TO MEET ONE DAY,

jaise bahaar aane par, 
AS WHEN THE SPRING COMES

tayy hai phool kaa khilnaa, 
THE FLOWERS ARE DESTINED TO BLOOM .

mere tere dil kaa, 
MY HEART AND YOURS

tayy thaah ek din milnaa, 
WERE FATED TO MEET ONE DAY,

jaise bahaar aane par, 
AS WHEN THE SPRING COMES

tayy hai phool kaa khilnaa, 
THE FLOWERS ARE DESTINED TO BLOOM,

o mere jeevan saathee,
O SOUL-MATE OF MINE!


This is the Blossom on our human tree..

This is the Blossom on our human tree 
Which opens once in many myriad years —
But when opened, fills the world with 
Wisdom's scent and Love's dropped honey.

~ Sir Edwin Arnold


Winter - by Gibran




Come close to me, oh companion of my full life;
Come close to me and let not Winter's touch
Enter between us. Sit by me before the hearth,
For fire is the only fruit of Winter.


Speak to me of the glory of your heart, for
That is greater than the shrieking elements
Beyond our door.
Bind the door and seal the transoms, for the
Angry countenance of the heaven depresses my
Spirit, and the face of our snow-laden fields
Makes my soul cry.


Feed the lamp with oil and let it not dim, and
Place it by you, so I can read with tears what
Your life with me has written upon your face.


Bring Autumn's wine. Let us drink and sing the
Song of remembrance to Spring's carefree sowing,
And Summer's watchful tending, and Autumn's
Reward in harvest.


Come close to me, oh beloved of my soul; the
Fire is cooling and fleeing under the ashes.
Embrace me, for I fear loneliness; the lamp is
Dim, and the wine which we pressed is closing
Our eyes. Let us look upon each other before
They are shut.
Find me with your arms and embrace me; let
Slumber then embrace our souls as one.
Kiss me, my beloved, for Winter has stolen
All but our moving lips.


You are close by me, My Forever.
How deep and wide will be the ocean of Slumber,
And how recent was the dawn!

The tame bird and the free bird

The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest,
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit perched in the sky."


The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands."
The cage bird sings, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands."


There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."


~ Tagore


One Day In Spring....

One day in spring, a woman came
In my lonely woods,
In the lovely form of the Beloved.
Came, to give to my songs, melodies,
To give to my dreams, sweetness.
Suddenly a wild wave
Broke over my heart's shores
And drowned all language.
To my lips no name came,
She stood beneath the tree, turned,
Glanced at my face, made sad with pain,
And with quick steps, came and sat by me.
Taking my hands in hers, she said:
'You do not know me, nor I you-
I wonder how this could be?'
I said:
'We two shall build, a bridge for ever
Between two beings, each to the other unknown,
This eager wonder is at the heart of things.'


The cry that is in my heart is also the cry of her heart;
The thread with which she binds me binds her too.
Her have I sought everywhere,
Her have I worshipped within me,
Hidden in that worship she has sought me too.
Crossing the wide oceans, she came to steal my heart.
She forgot to return, having lost her own.
Her own charms play traitor to her,
She spreads her net, knowing not
Whether she will catch or be caught.


~ Tagore

You are your own forerunner

You are your own forerunner, and the towers you have builded are but the foundation of your giant-self. And that self too shall be a foundation.


And I too am my own forerunner, for the long shadow stretching before me at sunrise shall gather under my feet at the noon hour. Yet another sunrise shall lay another shadow before me, and that also shall be gathered at another noon.


Always have we been our own forerunners, and always shall we be. And all that we have gathered and shall gather shall be but seeds for fields yet unploughed. We are the fields and the ploughmen, the gatherers and the gathered.


HOME

"In the past 200,000 years, humans have upset the balance of planet Earth, a balance established by nearly four billion years of evolution. We must act now. It is too late to be a pessimist. The price is too high. Humanity has little time to reverse the trend and change its patterns of consumption"

Watch the film here:



  • 20 % OF THE PEOPLE ON EARTH CONSUME MORE THAN 80 % OF THE PLANET’S RESOURCES.
  • WORLD MILITARY EXPENDITURE IS 12 TIMES HIGHER THAN AID TO DEVELOPMENT.
  • 5,000 PERSONS A DAY DIE BECAUSE OF UNHEALTHY WATER. A BILLION PEOPLE DO NOT HAVE ACCESS TO DRINKABLE WATER.
  • A BILLION PEOPLE ARE HUNGRY.
  • MORE THAN 50 % OF THE GRAIN SOLD IN THE WORLD IS DESTINED TO FEED LIVESTOCK AND FOR BIO-FUEL.
  • 40 % OF CULTIVABLE LAND HAS DETERIORATED.



  • EACH YEAR, 13 MILLIONS HECTARES OF FOREST DISAPPEAR.
  • ONE MAMMAL IN 4, ONE BIRD IN 8, AND ONE AMPHIBIAN IN 3, IS THREATENED WITH EXTINCTION.
  • SPECIES ARE BECOMING EXTINCT AT A RATE THAT IS 1,000 TIMES HIGHER THAN THE NATURAL RHYTHM.
  • THREE QUARTERS OF THE FISHING RESOURCES ARE EXHAUSTED, IN DECLINE, OR ON THE VERGE OF BEING SO.
  • THE AVERAGE TEMPERATURES IN THE LAST 15 YEARS HAVE BEEN THE HIGHEST EVER RECORDED.
  • THE ICE FIELD HAS LOST 40 % OF ITS THICKNESS IN 40 YEARS.
  • THERE COULD BE 200 MILLION CLIMATIC REFUGEES BEFORE 2050.



Tha Mi Sgith


i carry your heart


i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
                                                      
i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you


here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart


i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)






~ E E Cummings

The Gift of Magi


- by O. Henry


One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.


There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.


While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy  squad.


In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter  would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name " Mr.  James Dillingham Young."

Leisure


"What is this life of, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare."


~ W. H. Davies

TRUTH


And if sun comes
How shall we greet him?
Shall we not dread him,
Shall we not fear him
After so lengthy a
Session with shade?


Though we have wept for him,
Though we have prayed
All through the night-years--
What if we wake one shimmering morning to
Hear the fierce hammering
Of his firm knuckles
Hard on the door?


Shall we not shudder?--
Shall we not flee
Into the shelter, the dear thick shelter
Of the familiar
Propitious haze?


Sweet is it, sweet is it
To sleep in the coolness
Of snug unawareness.
The dark hangs heavily
Over the eyes.


~ Gwendolyn Brooks (1949)



Koi umeed bar nahi aati...



Koi umeed bar nahi aati
Koi surat nazar nahi aati

There is no hope to be found
There is no resolution to be sought

Maut ka aik din moeyyin hai
Neend kyun raat bhar nahi aati

Death is destined to arrive one day
But why does sleep fail to come all night

Aage aati thi haal-e-dil pe hansi
Ab kisi baat par nahi aati

Once I was able to laugh at the predicament of my heart
Now I am unable to laugh at anything

Jaanta hun sawab-e-ta’at-o-zuhad
Par tabeeyat idhar nahi aati

Though I am aware of the rewards of prayer and virtue
But I am prohibited by my disposition

Hai kuch aisi hi baat, jo chup hoon
Warna kiya baat kar nahi aati

This matter is such that I am prevented from speaking of it
Otherwise what is there that I cannot speak of

Kyun na cheekhun ke yaad karte hain
Meri awaaz gar nahi aati

Why shouldn’t I shout for I reminisce
Yet my voice fails to produce any sound

Daagh-e-dil, gar nazar nahi aata
Boo bhi aye chaara gar nahi aati?

Though the wound of my heart cannot be seen
but my healer, even a trace of its smoldering is missing

Ham wahan hein, jahan se hum ko bhi
Kuch hamari khabar nahi aati

I am in such a state, from where even I am
Unable to get any news of myself

Marte hein aarzoo mein marne ki
Maut aati hai, par nahi aati

I am dying of impatience in hope of death
Death appears,yet fails to arrive

Kaabe kis munh se jao ge Ghalib!
Sharm tum to magar nahi aati!

How will you go to Kaaba, O Ghalib!
You do not bear any shame!



THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT


It was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.

The First approach'd the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
"God bless me! but the Elephant
Is very like a wall!"


The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried, -"Ho! what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me 'tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!"


The Third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a snake!"


The Fourth reached out his eager hand,
And felt about the knee.
"What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain," quoth he,
"'Tis clear enough the Elephant 
Is very like a tree!"

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: "E'en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!"


The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Then, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a rope!"


And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!


~ John Godfrey Saxe's ( 1816-1887)




The Fisherman and the Businessman


There was once an American businessman who was sitting by the beach in a small Mexican village. As he sat, he saw a Mexican fisherman rowing a small boat towards the shore and noticed that the fisherman has caught quite a number of big fishes that is known to be a delicacy. The American was really impressed and asked the fisherman, "How long does it take you to catch so many fishes?"


The fisherman replied, "Oh, just a short while."


"Then why don't you stay longer at sea and you could catch even more?" The businessman was astonished.


The fisherman simply does not agree. "This is enough to feed my whole family," he says.


The businessman then asked, "So, what do you do for the rest of the day then?"


The fisherman replied, "Well, I usually wake up early in the morning, go out to sea and catch a few fishes, then I would go back and play with my kids. In the afternoon, I will take a nap with my wife, and evening comes, I will join my buddies in the village for a drink, we play guitar, sing and dance throughout the night. My days are ever so complete and carefree."


The businessman does not agree with his way of life and offered a suggestion to the fisherman.


"I am a PhD holder graduated from Harvard University, specializing in business management. I could help you to become a more successful person. From now on, you have to spend more time at sea and try to catch as many fishes as possible. And when you have saved enough money, you could buy a bigger boat and catch even more fishes. As you go on, you will be able to afford to buy more boats, recruit more fishermen and lead a team of your own. Soon you will be able to set up your own company, your very own production plant for canned food and do direct selling to your distributors. At that time, you will have moved out of this village and to Mexico City, and then expand your operation to LA, and finally to New York City, where you can set up your HQ to manage all your other branches."


The fisherman asks, "So, how long would that take?"


The businessman reply, "About 15 to 20 years."

The fisherman continues, "And after that?"


The businessman laughs heartily, "After that, you can live like a king in your own house, and when the time is right, you can go public and float your shares in the Stock Exchange, by then you will be rich, your income will be coming in by the millions!"


The fisherman asks, "And after that?"


The businessman says, "After that, you can finally retire, you can move to a house by the fishing village, wake up early in the morning and catch a few fishes, then return home to play with kids, have a nice afternoon nap with your wife, and when evening comes, you can join your buddies for a drink, play the guitar, sing and dance throughout the night!"


The fisherman was puzzled, "Isn't that what I am doing now?"







...I tremble at my own good fortune


...I tremble at my own good fortune in having plenty of food,
good clothes, proper shelter and other desirable things. When
I think of the haunting eyes of those unfortunate wretches, I feel
guilty. By what right do I enjoy the possession of so many
rupees, so many annas, when those poor beggars own nothing
more than rags? Suppose, by some accident of birth or fluke
of fate, I had been born in the place of one of them? I play
for a while with this ghastly thought, but horror eventually
causes me to send it into oblivion.

What is the meaning of this mystery of chance, which, by
the mere fortune of birth, puts one man in dirt-stained rags
upon this road and another in silken robes in yonder river-side
palace? Life is truly a dark enigma; I cannot comprehend it...



A Search in Secret India
Paul Brunton
(1898-1981)

THE MODERN MAN


…one of the greatest maladies facing the modern world is too much action. Action, more action, and still more action punctuate the life of man from the cradle to the grave. Seldom can he spend even five minutes in silence to relax.

Today man can travel at twice the speed of sound in supersonic jets. On land, he can travel at an incredible speed in the so called ‘bullet train’, and skim over the ocean surface in a hovercraft. In all the spheres of human activities, the trend is to do more in a shorter period of time. He rushes here and there as modern living makes great demand on him. He snatches a hasty meal and dashes off again to join the daily rat race. He leaps into bed, tosses and turns for half the night. Just as he dropping off to sleep, the alarm clock goes and he is up once again to begin yet another day. For too long, modern man has abused his body and mind. Human nerves just cannot withstand the pace at which he lives today. So, it will only be a matter of time before they give away. Nature never hurries; neither should we…


~ K Sri Dhammananda 


Kreutzer Sonata

"It is a marvelous thing how full of illusion is the notion that beauty is an advantage. A beautiful woman says all sorts of foolishness, you listen and you don't hear any foolishness, but what you hear seems to you wisdom itself. She says and does vulgar things, and to you it seems lovely. Even when she does not say stupid or vulgar things, but is simply beautiful, you are convinced that she is miraculously wise and moral..."



My bag is the smallest...


One man used to pray to god, "I must be the most miserable man I n the world and I have been praying my whole life. And I don't want much - I simply want to change my miseries, with anybody you like, because everybody seems to be happy. I am willing. You choose."


That night he had a dream. He heard a voice thundering from the sky:" Everybody take out your miseries and put it in a bag and rush towards temple."


He thought perhaps his prayer had been heard.


So he filled a bag with every misery he had. And what he found on the road..."My God!" he said, "this is strange" - because his bag was just a small one. Others were carrying such big bags; a few were even supported by servants.


He said," My God, these are the beautiful people! I have seen them. Now I know why god was not listening to my prayers, but it is too late. If I can save my bag and come back home, I will remain grateful to God forever".


And in the temple they again heard the voice: "Everybody hangs your bag on the wall. And then the lights will be put off and a bell will ring; that will be the signal - in the dark you can choose any bag that you want. So while it is light, look all around. And stand near the bag that you want, so that in the darkness you don't miss it."


The man who had prayed was just holding his bag. But he was surprised - another surprise, surprise upon surprise - everybody was standing with his own bag, holding on.


He asked a few people, "Why are you holding your bag?"


They said, "Why are you holding yours? - For the same reason. At least we know what these miseries are. Somebody else's miseries, unknown, unacquainted...now at this age, to begin from scratch... It's better to live with our old friends, our old miseries."


And the lights were turned off and everybody grabbed his bag, ran out of the temple, and they were all happy and hilarious that they had got their own bags.


And the man who had prayed was so grateful: "God is really compassionate; otherwise, today I was going to be in a mess. Those big bags - my God, what kind of miseries people are hiding! And these are the people...I was thinking they were happy and I was the most miserable person, but my bag was the smallest!..."

Ward No.6


"Life is a vexatious trap; when a thinking man reaches maturity and attains to full consciousness he cannot help feeling that he is in a trap from which there is no escape. Indeed, he is summoned without his choice by fortuitous circumstances from non-existence into life . . . what for? 


He tries to find out the meaning and object of his existence; he is told nothing, or he is told absurdities; he knocks and it is not opened to him; death comes to him -- also without his choice. And so, just as in prison men held together by common misfortune feel more at ease when they are together, so one does not notice the trap in life when people with a bent for analysis and generalization meet together and pass their time in the interchange of proud and free ideas. In that sense the intellect is the source of an enjoyment nothing can replace..." 



Ignoble search & Noble search


"Monks, there are these two searches: ignoble search & noble search. And what is ignoble search? There is the case where a person, being subject himself to birth, seeks [happiness in] what is likewise subject to birth. Being subject himself to aging... illness... death... sorrow... defilement, he seeks [happiness in] what is likewise subject to illness... death... sorrow... defilement.


"And what may be said to be subject to birth? Spouses & children are subject to birth. Men & women slaves... goats & sheep... fowl & pigs... elephants, cattle, horses, & mares... gold & silver are subject to birth. Subject to birth are these acquisitions, and one who is tied to them, infatuated with them, who has totally fallen for them, being subject to birth, seeks what is likewise subject to birth.


"And what may be said to be subject to aging... illness... death... sorrow... defilement? Spouses & children... men & women slaves... goats & sheep... fowl & pigs... elephants, cattle, horses, & mares... gold & silver are subject to aging... illness... death... sorrow... defilement. Subject to aging... illness... death... sorrow... defilement are these acquisitions, and one who is tied to them, infatuated with them, who has totally fallen for them, being subject to birth, seeks what is likewise subject to aging... illness... death... sorrow... defilement. This is ignoble search.


"And what is the noble search? There is the case where a person, himself being subject to birth, seeing the drawbacks of birth, seeks the unborn, unexcelled rest from the yoke: Unbinding. Himself being subject to aging... illness... death... sorrow... defilement, seeing the drawbacks of aging... illness... death... sorrow... defilement, seeks the aging-less, illness-less, deathless, sorrow-less, undefiled, un-excelled rest from the yoke: Unbinding. This is the noble search.


~ Ariyapariyesana Sutta

I did not know how to become anything...

"It was not only that I could not become spiteful, I did not know how to become anything; neither spiteful nor kind, neither a rascal nor an honest man, neither a hero nor an insect. Now, I am living out my life in my corner, taunting myself with the spiteful and useless consolation that an intelligent man cannot become anything..." 



Title: The Home and the World Author: Rabindranath Tagore (Selected excerpts)


"We, men, are knights whose quest is that freedom to which our ideals call us. She who makes for us the banner under which we fare forth is the true Woman for us. We must tear away the
disguise of her who weaves our net of enchantment at home, and know her for what she is. We must beware of clothing her in the witchery of our own longings and imaginings, and thus allow her to distract us from our true quest..."


"Women realize the danger," I replied. "They know that men love delusions, so they give them full measure by borrowing their own phrases. They know that man, the drunkard, values intoxication more than food, and so they try to pass themselves off as an intoxicant. As a matter of fact, but for the sake of man, woman has no need for any make-believe..."


"Today I feel--if a man needs must have some intoxicant, let it not be a woman..."


"Save me, Truth! Never again let me hanker after the false paradise of Illusion. If I must walk alone, let me at least tread your path. Let the drum-beats of Truth lead me to Victory..."


"Woman knows man well enough where he is weak, but she is quite unable to fathom him where he is strong. The fact is that man is as much a mystery to woman as woman is to man. If that were not so, the separation of the sexes would only have been a waste of Nature's energy..."


"What a wealth of colour and movement, suggestion and deception, group themselves round this "me" and "mine" in woman. That is just where her beauty lies--she is ever so much more personal than man. When man was being made, the Creator was a schoolmaster--His bag full of commandments and principles; but when He came to woman, He resigned His headmastership and turned artist, with only His brush and paint-box..."


"One can understand nothing from books," I went on. "We read in the scriptures that our desires are bonds, fettering us as well as others. But such words, by themselves, are so empty. It is only when we get to the point of letting the bird out of its cage that we can realize how free the bird has set us. Whatever we cage, shackles us with desire whose bonds are stronger than those of iron chains. I tell you, sir, this is just what the world has failed to understand. They all seek to reform something outside
themselves. But reform is wanted only in one's own desires, nowhere else, nowhere else!"


"We think," he said, "that we are our own masters when we get in our hands the object of our desire--but we are really our own masters only when we are able to cast out our desires from our
minds."


"We cannot see Beauty till we let go our hold of it. It was Buddha who conquered the world, not Alexander--this is untrue when stated in dry prose--oh when shall we be able to sing it? When shall all these most intimate truths of the universe overflow the pages of printed books and leap out in a sacred stream like the Ganges from the Gangotrie?"




... imagine a puddle


... imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, 'This is an interesting world I find myself in - an interesting hole I find myself in - fits me rather neatly, doesn't it? In fact it fits me staggeringly well, must have been made to have me in it!' This is such a powerful idea that as the sun rises in the sky and the air heats up and as, gradually, the puddle gets smaller and smaller, it's still frantically hanging on to the notion that everything's going to be alright, because this world was meant to have him in it, was built to have him in it; so the moment he disappears catches him rather by surprise.


~ Douglas Adams

OUTCOMES


The world is full of outcomes
Each day delivers more
At breakfast time there are only two
By lunchtime there are four
By dinner time there will be eight
At bedtime there are sixteen
So many, many outcomes and
I don’t know what they mean
And so we live our lives away
With outcomes big and small
Until the final outcome comes
With no outcome at all…

~Unknown

Abhinhapaccavekkhana



අභික්ඥාපච්චවේක්ඛන 


මම ජරාවට පත්වීම ස්වභාව කොට ඇත්තෙක්මි. 
මම ජරාවට පත්වීම ඉක්මවා නොගිය කෙනෙක්මි.

මම ව්‍යාධියට පත්වීම ස්වභාව කොට ඇත්තෙක්මි. 
මම ව්‍යාධියට පත්වීම ඉක්මවා නොගිය කෙනෙක්මි.

මම මරණයට පත්වීම ස්වභාව කොට ඇත්තෙක්මි. 
මම මරණයට පත්වීම ඉක්මවා නොගිය කෙනෙක්මි.

මට අයත් ප්‍රිය වු ද මනාප වූ ද සෑම දෙයක්ම නා නා භාවයනට පත්වන අතර ඒ සෑම  දෙයකින්ම මට වෙන්වීමට සිදුවන්නේය 

කර්මය විසින් උපද්දවන ලද මම  ඒ  කර්මය ස්වකීය කොට, දායාද කොට, ඥාති කොට ගෙන ඇත්තෙමි. කුසල හෝ අකුසල යම් කර්මයක් මවිසින් සිදුකරන්නේද ඒ කර්මය මවිසින්ම දායාද කොට ගන්නෙමි...

Jarādhammomhi jaraṃ anatīto
I am of the nature to age; I have not gone beyond aging

Vyādhidhammomhi vyādhiṃ anatīto
I am of the nature to sicken; I have not gone beyond sickness

Maraṇadhammomhi maraṇaṃ anatīto
I am of the nature to die; I have not gone beyond dying

Sabbehi me piyehi manāpehi nānābhāvo vinābhāvo
All that is mine, beloved and pleasing, will become otherwise, will become separated from me

Kammassakomhi kammadāyādo kammayoni kammabandhū kammapaṭisaraṇo yaṃ kammaṃ karissāmi kalyāṇaṃ vā pāpakaṃ vā tassa dāyādo bhavissāmī
I am the owner of my karma ; heir to my karma; born of my karma; related to my karma; abide supported by my karma; whatever karma I shall do, for good or for ill, of that I will be the heir...