My New Year 2018 Message to my Frienemies: Fireworks, Thankfulness and Forgiveness

First of all I would like to send to all my readers all my best wishes for a very happy and prosperous New Year 2018. I am actually celebrating it in Mauritius, and as usual I turn emotional when I hear all those firecrackers at midnight, as soon as we enter into the New Year. In several parts of the World, especially some public and popular places per country, there are some special events which happen for the New Year with the festival of firecrackers. Everybody knows about the firecrackers in Sydney in Australia, the Big Ben in United Kingdom, Times Square in New York, Berlin in Germany, in China, etc. But what is common with those parts of the world, as I said before, is that those fireworks are organized in the most popular public places of the country. In Mauritius though, this is not the case. In Mauritius, the whole island is illuminated and animated with the sound and light of the colorful firecrackers. I never wondered what it looked like to experience fireworks in Mauritius on video, since I have been growing up in that culture since I was born as a pure Mauritian. But during the passage from year 2017 to year 2018, while I was celebrating it with my in-laws, I saw a Drone flying high in the sky. I didn’t really understand what it was since I am not at all technology connected, but then while doing some researches on YouTube, I saw that beautiful video from the sky filming the firecrackers in Rose Hill in the district of Plaines Wilhems, in the Centre of the island. Hereunder a look about the firecrackers seen from the sky, a video which I found really beautiful and which made me proud of being a Mauritian:

Each time I see firecrackers, I don’t know why but I cannot help myself becoming emotional. This morning then, I wanted to do a few researches about the firecrackers and its History. In this article from the Ancient Origins, here are a few extracts which I found very interesting about the firecrackers:

By the 11th century there were gunpowder weapons in China and in the early 12th century, the Chinese used firecrackers and fireworks (yen huo) to celebrate a visit of the Chinese emperor. Chinese fireworks included rockets (or “earth rats” because they were fired over the ground) and wheels, coloured smoke-balls, crackers and fireworks attached to kites. They all made a “glorious noise”.

The second paragraph explains a few historic details about the usage of firecrackers and its insertion in the European continent and culture and in which context it’s used, but one of the most interesting ones mentioned in that paragraph is the festival of Nuremberg in Ancient Germany, with an illustration a man in a bright costume wearing a smoking hat on the head and an artichoke in the hand spreading firecrackers. within the framework of the Schembart Festival of the 16th century, which was considered as controversial by some politicians who were offended by the Schembart participants who were doing some pranks at them with their costumes.

In Mauritius, one of the reasons why firecrackers are important in our culture dates from an Ancient Chinese Folklore, which is the legend of Nian, a monster who manifested before the beginning of Spring in China and who devastated humanity and all what it could destroy. The only way to repulse that monster was to light firecrackers. Since now for the Chinese Spring Festival, the folklore keeps on going on every year during the Chinese Spring Festival and was also adapted within the Mauritian culture, since we still believe nowadays that lightning firecrackers at midnight for the New Year removes all the negativity of the past year and welcomes the positiveness of the forthcoming new year. But there is also a much less known but very interesting festival which welcomes the venue of firecrackers, the festival of Thrissur pooram in Kerala, India, described in Wikipedia as “an annual Hindu temple festival held in Kerala, India. It is held at the Vadakkunnathan Temple in Thrissur every year on the Pooram day – the day when the moon rises with the Pooram star in the Malayalam Calendar month of Medam“, the Medam being from the 16th April to the 15th May of every year in the Western Calendar.

Seeing all those details, I meditated a lot on the effect of the fireworks and how it made me at the same time positive and emotional each time that we enter a brand new year. I am not the kind of the person who believes in New Year Resolutions, but this year I decided to forgive after such a long time.I decided to make of the New Year 2018 my special Year of Forgiveness, which however has nothing to do with the definition of the Year of Forgiveness explained in Christianity. I was in a mood today where after a long time, I decided to forgive all my enemies and frenemies, because they all destroyed me, but in return, without expecting it, they opened for me new doors and new opportunities that were offered to me and which they would never expect me to embrace one day. There is especially a quote which I really appreciated and which motivated me about the year of forgiveness:

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So meditating on that quote, I would like to list the categories of people and some specific people whom I would like to forgive and let go this year and to wish them a very happy New Year 2018 with a sincere heart. Saying that, I would like to dedicate an old song from Katy Perry, for which the lyrics and the video clip completely inspired me to write that blog post. I think that you have all seen the music video of Fireworks, where there were so many broken people including Katy Perry herself, who decided to get away from the past and to live their lives anew by spreading fireworks from their chests? But here-under I am sharing with you all the lyric video of Fireworks, since the images and lyrics are really inspirational and would be a perfect New Year Message:

One of the extracts which especially touched my heart says, I quote,

May be a reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt your heart will glow
And when it’s time you’ll know

You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

Then I came to understand that the reason why all doors were closed for me was that I was unable to forgive those who hurt me so much, and which made that I keep all the time living in the past instead of living in the present or in the future. Also, this year I decided to forgive, to let go and to take a new departure, since I turned 37 years old in 2017 and since in this blog post, I obtained the number one as per described in numerology as the number of a new beginning in my life.

I decided, first of all, to forgive my toxic parents, a narcissistic mother and a passive and absent father. Thanks to the abuse that they did on me, they opened the door they would never expect me to experiment one day by marrying someone who doesn’t match at all with their choice, but which is giving me a satisfactory life where I am not missing anything, where I am slowly but surely and carefully building my social network and life in real life like in virtual, and where I drastically changed for the best even though it has been and it is still an extreme hard work. I decided to forgive my mother, who thought that by giving me her name Uma in addition to birth, she would make of me her photocopy and dirty Maha Shakti’s name and reputation under her Kali Avatar in her negative aspect. Instead, she made me discovering that Uma was a sacred name and that each woman should be like a Shakti in her home and a fighter at the image of a Jansi Ki Rani, as per described in a very beautiful speech made in Creole during the elections of year 2014 in Mauritius, where the speaker, Sandhya Bhoygah, was severely denouncing the lack of respect of our ex-Prime Minister against young girls and some women of the country, but also how, for money and power, some women ashamed and tarnished the Mauritian womanhood under the influence of that controversial Prime Minister. When I came to konw about the value of my name Uma, I decided to thank my mother for having given me that name, and I decided to forgive her since she gave me an opportunity to give to that name the blessed image of Goddess Parvati and no more the destructive and negative Tantric aspect of Maha Kali that my mother used to worship to destroy people.

I would like to forgive my sister-in-law, who is my husband’s young brother’s wife. She is the one who is behind so many controversial divisions she created together with my mother to endanger my marriage preparations with my husband, since she never wanted me to enter the family and instead preferred having her elder sister to enter into the family at my place. For so many years she destroyed a lot of things in the family and imposed her conditions despite being a daughter-in-law, but without realizing it, she helped me into getting away from my toxic parents forever, especially my mother, who was her number one complicit into dividing both my husband and me, and who now turned into one of my sister-in-law’s worst enemies. Thanks to her controversies, she encouraged both my husband and I to take our distance from not only my family but also my in-laws, not only morally, but even geographically, since my husband got new and better job opportunities overseas and since it allowed us to have a much better life than we would have surrounded all the time with my in-laws in Mauritius. Because of her divisions, she encouraged us to go, and this for better horizons, and for that not only do I thank her, but I also forgive her and wish her a Happy New Year.

I would like to thank and to forgive some of the in-laws who hated me and who still hate me since I come from a very rich and influential family and refused to understand that money doesn’t buy happiness. Those same people who hated me today are still the same ones to whom I am opening the door of my house and inviting to my table together with my family to eat and to drink. Those same people also hate both me and my mother-in-law since we are both cousins and since my marriage with my husband is an inbred one and made them gossiping that my mother-in-law would prefer me to my sister-in-law since we are cousins. But the fact that I left the country and gave high space for my sister-in-law and her family got everyone disconcerted my in-laws and made some of them discovering my sister-in-law’s true colors, but also my own true colors as someone humble who understands life despite my fortune and who understands the true meaning of family rules. For having misjudging both me and my mother-in-law for what we are not, I would like to thank and to forgive them since those same people belong to the category of dividers, the kind of people who don’t like unity and who love messing everywhere thanks to their short mind and gossips.

I would also like to thank another category of people who confuse division and diversity and who don’t understand the concept of unity. Among them there was someone whose ego was so strong that he felt suddenly endangered when he came to discover that he had a tough adversary. But that person who felt in danger wanted to monopolize everything and to be the only perfect Mauritian everyone should follow, an attention seeker and a narcissistic and divisive person who never wanted to give anyone the chance to be oneself but who wanted to brainwash everyone to remold them only at his image. Thanks to that narcissist, whom I came to discover the true colors and whom I had serious troubles with a couple of years ago, I came to acknowledge his famous adversary and that this adversary was someone who really understood the concept of the “we” instead of the “I” since he believes in unity within diversity and not unity within division.

I would like to thank and forgive some people among my in-laws who divided me from my family even though my family was wrong in a lot of aspects in their relationship with my in-laws and with myself, and didn’t behave properly towards my in-laws nor towards myself. I would like to thank and forgive them because though I kept silent and cried secretly all those years for having been parted away from my family because of those in-laws’ gossips and pressures, those same people indirectly taught me the famous law of karma which mentions that what comes round goes round, since at their turn they are experimenting in their own lives the same sorrows they wished to me, but which me in return, I never wished them, even in my worst moments of anger and sadness and despite all the bitter tears of blood I have been spreading because of them, since it was MY DECISION to stay away from those family members of mine who failed in having a good relationship with my in-laws, and NOT MY IN-LAWS to decide whether I should have stayed away from my family, especially my parents, even though I recognize that I have toxic parents and come from a dysfunctional and messy family.

I would like also to thank and to forgive all those who refused to help me when I was in need, those who were absent when I needed them the most, and the ones who “helped” me in disguise of a “coup de pied” (foot kick in the ass!) instead of a “coup de main” (helping hand), and who were people who pretended to help me but who were making me passing for an incapable in front of everyone, who kept on underestimating me all the time on my capacities and responsibilities, who kept on criticizing me and seeing everything wrong in all what I was saying and doing, and those same people who helped me to get all the awards and honors from their surroundings and making me passing for a zero. Thanks to them, I moved my way away from them, fought very hard most of the time on my own to be able to do something and turned slowly but surely from the handicapped caterpillar caught prisoner in its cocoon into a radiant butterfly. There was a blog post where I wrote about someone who wanted to “help” a caterpillar getting away from its cocoon instead of letting Mother Nature doing her job. By helping the caterpillar, when it went out of the cocoon it turned frail and was unable to grow up healthily, and it died. This was that kind of help “coup de pied” that I have exactly had in the past, but God was great to me and healed me with time, and I am slowly but surely recovering from my injuries of that toxic help and turning little by little into the radiant butterfly I want to become since I moved away from those so-called helpers and imposed my law, rights and conditions on them bravely and courageously.

I would like to thank and to forgive all those incapable and toxic teachers at school, in university and in real life who mislead me, since thanks to them, I came to understand that I could count only on myself and not on anyone else, and since they arose my curiosity on all the things I said and encouraged me to justify their words by doing my own researches myself and proving them wrong through my results. One of 6 the worst teachers I have experienced in life was a teacher I had when I was 6 years old and who always bullied me and menaced to put me as the last child of the class since I was shy and lacked confidence with myself. I succeeded into telling her my four truths before I took part in my final baccalaureate exams, and kept grudge against her for years, but today I decided to forgive her and to thank her for her bullies, since she contributed into spoiling her own reputation by her own fault because of her ego and arrogance, and since she made me discovering that I wasn’t finally that idiot, since I have a true thirst for culture and knowledge today 🙂

I would like to thank also all those who bullied me since I was born, either in my family, at school, in university, in church or any other kinds of society I evolved since I was born, since they always made fun of me and mocked me, but are being banged by Karma in return for some of them in their own lives, or are today discovering how, from their ugly duckling, I turned into the swan that was hiding in me and am doing my way for turning into a unicorn for having a personality of my own, regardless to the bullies, mocking and negative critics and judgments from others and which today are making me completely indifferent towards them, and more and more confident and in love with myself. Thank you so much Sinon Loresca Jr. for that beautiful lesson of using the bullies from others against you to fall in love with yourself and with life!

I would like to thank and forgive all the people who also discriminated me at the profit of other people, and who belong to the same category of people who let me down when I needed help at the weakest part of my life. They also belong to the category of people who will reject you because you are different from the rest of the gang and who use your difference for making of you the black sheep of a group or the ugly duckling of the group. But thanks to their discrimination, those people taught me that they didn’t reject me because I wasn’t good enough for them, but they taught me that they rejected me because I was different and that there were other opportunities which were better for me and for which they would never fit in, and which explains that every human should have the unicorn spirit for which you are born original and shouldn’t die as a copy.

Finally, I would like to thank all the elegant monsters who showed themselves with masks of hypocrisy towards me but who finally showed me their true colors at the example of that individual who made me discovery his adversary who believed in unity within diversity, or those who pretended to befriend me, but who acted as frienemies to me and stabbed me at the back shamelessly behind their ugly masks full of heavy make-up. Most of them unfortunately are part of my own family, who fished a lot of information from me when my relationship with my parents torn apart after my marriage, not because they wanted to support me, but because they pretended to befriend me only to collect all information from me to share them back to my parents since they were totally complicit with my parents. Those same elegant monsters remind me a lot about Rachel from the movie “My Cousin Rachel” or the sulfurous Catherine Tramel from “Basic Instinct 2” and I came to discover from those so-called relatives that they were all complexed and mentally sick people and minds hiding behind elegance and heavy make-up.

Also, to all those whom I thanked, forgave and wished Happy New Year 2018… Let’s begin that brand new year… And let the game of karma start 🙂 Tchin Tchin!

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Here are the true reasons why I chose to write under a pseudonym instead of my real name

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I never thought about having the idea of writing that blog post today, but I would like to thank someone very special for having given me so many inspiration a couple of days earlier to write it, with a very particular trait though: This person is a HATER, the second one whom I am facing since my LinkedIn profile Ekasringa Avatar exists, since the first one was a compatriot of mine, an arrogant woman (she doesn’t even deserve I call her a lady!) who thought that because she is living overseas, she can do whatever she wants and auto-proclaim herself for someone she isn’t in her own country; this is one of the kind of people that I truly hate and I didn’t hesitate, at a moment, to humiliate her publicly on LinkedIn before blocking her forever (yes, I can be very infernal and cruel when my limit is reached and that I cannot bear it anymore with that kind of people!). Unfortunately, I don’t have the full history of that conversation with my second hater, since I deleted it, but I regret I didn’t think about restoring it or archiving it. This person doesn’t know me at all and was just someone who visited my profile. Usually, each time that I have a new visitor visiting my LinkedIn profile, I receive a notification, and I invite him or her to be part of my network, even though there is no direct interaction with the person. I admit that I still am part of those people who judge on quantity instead of quality of the people whom I connect with, even though I passed through so many experiences which knocked me down about people, but I don’t care, since my profile is an open door to anyone of all sorts of walks of life, and not only writers, editors, translators nor anyone who would be part of the literary world I belong to, and who would like to know more about me. For the moment, apart that compatriot of mine who came to know whom she would have affair with after the way I put her back at her place on that day, I didn’t have any major problems with anyone, but I haven’t been at all prepared to that kind of sarcasm from a newly added contact. Even though I don’t have the history of the “conversation” we had (if we can call that a conversation indeed!), here is an extract of the way he sent me the message, exactly as it appears in my gmail:

Thanks for the invitation Ekasringa, good to be connected (please be informed that your real identity is hidden which is of course a problem, and, you have a Black Nobility black horse – maybe the… see more

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First of all, that person is stipulating that my real identity is hidden and that it’s a problem according to him. I remember that a few people asked me why I don’t post my own profile picture and why I don’t put my real name, and instead a pseudonym. Frankly speaking, I don’t see at all what’s wrong with it, nor how I am disturbing all those people because I chose to hide my true identity and put a pseudonym. I am not the only one who chose to do this, and there are so many of my contacts who appear also under a pseudonym, and that never disturbed me at all. There are also so many singers and actors who chose to launch their career under a pseudonym instead of their true name, so why wouldn’t I have that same right too as an aspiring author? I haven’t created that LinkedIn profile in the aim of receiving opportunities for my career or to find a job, but only to allow to the maximum people who would visit my profile sooner or later a clue of my own personality and of all my interests which you will all retrieve through all the posts that I like, share, comment and publish on my LinkedIn, and also through all the articles I write and publish on WordPress and in all my social platforms. I also am on Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr and Google+, and the stuffs that I share on my other social platforms already should give to my visitors and followers a clue of my personality and of several things on which I am interested. As an aspiring writer, it’s my duty to have a career based on an open mind, which would allow me to discover the world in a new way which is proper to me and which may totally or partially different from the way other people see it, since I don’t want to be a blind follower for anyone. The reason also why I chose to launch my career under a pseudonym instead of my own name is a choice that I personally made for myself, since I would like my pseudonym to be a brand one day, not only for the work that I am already doing on my blog, but also a brand for other projects that I wish one day I will be able to do, and which are childhood dreams I would like to concrete after so many years of incertitude with myself, since at 37 years old I decided to make of that age, as well of year 2017, a year of challenge for me, where I would like to do things I could never do before, and not allow my own sacrifices and responsibilities as a spouse, housewife and mother banning me from the dreams I want to create as long as I will be alive. In another blog post, I will explain in more details which of those dreams I would like to concrete in addition to all the work dedicated to that blog. Another reason explaining why I chose a pseudonym is that, as a spouse and a mother, through all my past experiences, I have been taught a very tough life lesson that I need to apply if I really want things to be balanced: I need to keep my real identity only for all the things that I do out of what I represent as Ekasringa Avatar, and which is the series of daily chores and routine of my day-to-day life as a mother, a spouse, a daughter-in-law, a neighbor in my locality, a simple citizen in my country and a simple expatriate in the country I live in. I don’t want to become a fame, since I want to lead an ordinary life like everyone, with only the hope to earn money through my blog and through my projects as Ekasringa Avatar, not to become a millionaire, not either to help my husband in the expenses for the household, nor for our child’s education, but simply to have my freedom and my dignity as a woman. My mother-in-law’s words always sound loud in my mind, since she always wanted me to work from home to avoid my husband spending money for me too, since life in general is becoming more expensive and that I can be completely independent, and at the same time remove a burden from my husband’s shoulders, since he is the only bread holder of the family. My pseudonym Ekasringa Avatar, I keep it only for my social platforms on the net and for my blog, even though all the stuffs I shared on my LinkedIn profile regarding my qualifications and professional experiences are real and the dates also are real. I also did a few researches regarding some writers who wrote under pen names and pseudonyms which were different from their true identity. In this article for example, some writers used pen names for different reasons linked with family and from society. Voltaire for example, whose real name is Francois-Marie Arouet, chose the nickname Voltaire to move away from his past, from his family and since some of his writings were against the government. This article also stipulates six good reasons why some writers write under a different pen name, and that extract suits my reasons mostly:

Your Real Name

Imagine your real name is Stephen King, Nora Roberts, or Ron Hubbard. Anyone picking up a book that you write is going to have a lot of certain expectations about the words inside. You know you’re not the next Stephen King, but if reading his books has sparked an interest in horror novels, will have to publish under another name to be taken seriously. Other names are so common that it’s hard to tell them apart. Her name is John Doe, Jim Smith, Sue Jones, or one of hundreds of other similar names, pen name may be the only way you can set yourself above the crowd. When you publish a book, you wanted to be memorable. If your name fades into the background, it will be hard for readers to remember you the next time they look for a book.

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Now let’s come on the fact that I have put a black horse as a profile picture. First of all, let me tell that Mister Hater that it’s not a HORSE but a UNICORN which is represented as a profile picture. That Unicorn was a temporary tattoo that I made on my hand one day while I was at the shopping mall with my family, but which unfortunately didn’t last long on my skin since it was removed with water and soap a couple of hours later while I was under the shower. But I am very happy I could keep a souvenir of that tattoo through that picture. What makes me laughing also is when he said that it was the Black Nobility black horse. Curious, since I never thought about it and since for me, the Horse always represented something positive, since as a Hindu, I worship Lord Vishnu who is the conservator and the second God of the Hindu Trilogy after Brahma the Creator and before Shiva the Destroyer. In Hinduism, some of the Gods also appear in different avatars, and one of the avatars of Lord Vishnu is the Horse Head God Hayagriva, whose I wrote more details about Him in that blog post. For me, regardless to the color of the horse, however it may be of an immaculate white like Pegasus as well as pure Ebony like the horse Black Beauty like in the movie dated 1994 having the same name, a horse is a horse and still represents the conquering of the man. Regarding the Black Nobility, that was TOTALLY NEWS for me to hear such an expression, and as I am curious, I did some researches and found an article for which the first sentence completely shocked me, mentioning that, I quote, “These people earned the title of “Black” nobility from their ruthless lack of scruple. They employed murder, rape, kidnapping, assassination, robbery, and all manner of deceit on a grand scale, brooking no opposition to attaining their objectives. These all have immense wealth. And money is power.” I cannot help myself smiling, because there again, that hater, whom I never heard about before and innocently added on my list of contacts since I noticed he visited my profile, really lost his head and accused me of something which is completely wrong and which is completely news for me since I never heard about the Black Nobility before. Then, he assimilated the Black Horse as the symbol of the Black Nobility. According to my researches, I saw that extract from an ebook entitled “They didn’t Listen, they didn’t Know How” from Olwen Davies where the Black Horse was effectively described as the symbol of the Black Nobility since it represented the symbol of Banking called the Lloyd’s Black Horse, and I saw that the author partly assimilated that symbol as well with the Freemasonry. But since I am not familiar with the world of banking, I didn’t get along for a long time on those details, but another article interested me more, the symbol of the black horse being the symbol of “Mystery, death, night, secret, messenger of esoteric knowledge” for which I linked that article mostly linked with Hinduism, since it’s mostly linked with my religion. The last part of the black horse being the messenger of the esoteric knowledge interested me a lot and I admit that it’s applicable to me as well. I have had so many interesting discussions about esoteric knowledge with a British French friend of mine on a lot of mysteries and secrets which are still being unfolded and which concern the concept of our universe and spirituality, and which I may write about very soon.

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But here, even though I opened a bracket about the Black Nobility and the Black Horse, I would like to tell to that imbecile that those explanations have absolutely NO LINK with me and that he was completely out of subject. He should have done some researches about my name before insulting me, and if he did his researches properly, even though most of his researches will stipulate that it’s the name of an equestrian circus team from Quebec in Canada, he would also have seen the ancient scriptures from the Indus Valley and do more researches about the legend of the sage Rishyasringa, who was born with a horn on the forehead. But instead, that imbecile had a first impression which had nothing to do with my image nor with what I want to share to my followers through all the things that I do and that I write as Ekasringa Avatar. Nonetheless, I have shelled a few extracts on Google regarding the meaning of the Black Unicorn featuring as my cover picture, and I have discovered a lot of interesting things where I retrieved myself:

“The Black Unicorn is a collection of poems by a woman who, Adrienne Rich writes, “for the complexity of her vision, for her moral courage and the catalytic passion of her language, has already become, for many, an indispensable poet.” (Source: The Black Unicorn | W. W. Norton & Company)

“The way that I understand it, unicorns symbolize the spirit of purity, innocence, and childhood. Almost every traditional legend containing the unicorn states that only a young pure female could attract a unicorn to become visible and be of this reality.” (Source: The Meaning of Unicorns)

“Unicorns are unique, mystical, peaceful, and serene animals. Some unicorn tattoos show a cross between a unicorn and a Pegasus (winged horse). At its core, the symbolism of a unicorn tattoo is a message of innocence, purity of heart, kindness, healing, perfection, and peace.” (Source: Fantasy Tattoo Symbolism | Underground Ink CNY)

“The black unicorn is associated with power to overcome all the barriers that you meet in your way of perfect life. You are riding on, walking or flying with an unicorn in the dream – Means that you are tired because of the worries or hard work, or painful experiences.” (Source: Unicorn dream meaning – Dreams Nest)

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Another blog post will also be written soon, since I discovered an article on the Black Unicorn Apparition, since it made me thinking especially about the Gods’ and Saints’ skin color, some as dark skinned and some as fair skinned.

I apologize for having been bulky in that blog post, but I am very happy I could write all those lines and do all those researches, and I would like from the bottom of my heart, to thank that new frenemy of mine to have allowed me to write that blog post, though he blocked me from his list after I have put him back at his place for his sarcasm against me. I wish though I had kept that conversation to share it with you, but I think the first words of his message were more than enough to prove his dumbness and that he was completely out of subject, though he awoke my curiosity as usual 🙂

The Big Social Dilemma about Hindu womanhood in Mauritius and India

This morning, since I chose to have a relaxing day after having an almost sleepless night after a long and hardworking day at home with lots of food to cook, lots of house chores to deal with and so many reproaches I accumulated with my husband for silly matters, I seized the opportunity to watch an interesting Hindi Short Movie, “Teaspoon“.

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The cover image of the movie says it all, showing a tearful housewife who was crying out of her nerves because she was fed up. The story, which is in Hindi language but translated in English, relates the life of Kavita, a housewife whose life is balanced between her house chores, her cooking, her husband who works in an Insurance company but who needs to travel all the time, and her sick father-in-law who is sick and bedridden, and who always calls for his daughter-in-law’s assistance by hitting a teaspoon with the wooden bed or with a porcelain cup next to him. One evening, during dinner time, Kavita was talking to her husband Rajiv and wanted to go somewhere for a short holiday, but within the condition that her father-in-law would be placed in a home temporarily until they come back. But Rajiv categorically refuses that his father is placed in a home, which he estimates as costly, and prefers that he stays at home under his wife’s supervision. The days go by and Kavita’s father-in-law is becoming more and more exigent by asking after her through his teaspoon. The irony in all that is that he teases Kavita only when Rajiv is away from home, but doesn’t bother her when Rajiv is back home. Maybe because he knows that Kavita is busy with Rajiv… or that he pretends to act smart with her only to please his son? Only God knows! But the more time goes by, the more Kavita suffers from that situation since she feels abused by her father-in-law and completely misunderstood by Rajiv, who defends his father more than he does for his wife, who does everything for him and even for his father. Also, further to a huge fight between Kavita and Rajiv during dinner one evening, the morning after, Rajiv rushes to work without having his breakfast, since he doesn’t want to stay at home to avoid another fight with Kavita, since he cannot stand to fight against her each time she tries to complain with him about how his father acts towards her in and out of Rajiv’s presence. On that same morning, Kavita avoids her father-in-law during almost all the day, trying to cope with her other activities and with her work from home… Until at a moment, when her father-in-law asks her again for assistance, her nerves let go and she kills her father-in-law by accident by stifling him on the face with his pillow! When Kavita realizes what she did, she is under shock, and during the funeral ceremony during which everyone is quiet, she provokes noises in front of everyone by heavily bursting in tears, and she keeps on crying every day in presence of her husband. Rajiv, who doesn’t understand the strangeness of Kavita’s behaviour, asks her to stop that comedy since, according to him, she shouldn’t have cried so heavily since his father represented a burden for her and since she wanted to get rid of him for a couple of days by sending him in a home while they would go on holidays. Kavita wanted to tell the truth about what she did to her father-in-law, but she lacked courage and then sentenced to silence. Her husband then asked her to prepare his breakfast quickly otherwise he would be late at office. While she was preparing the chapatis in the kitchen, she suddenly heard again the famous teaspoon, but there was no one in her father-in-law’s bedroom… And then she came to discover that it was Rajiv himself who was making the sound with the teaspoon! Was Rajiv conscious that he was repeating the same gesture as his father? Was Rajiv aware that Kavita killed his father, and is doing again this disturbing sound to take revenge of her? Or was it the father-in-law’s spirit who came to haunt Rajiv to punish Kavita and turn her mad?

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Only God knows about what was in Rajiv’s mind in that movie, and that movie inspired me because it was exactly the same type of situation I have been facing recently. We are actually renting a fully furnished apartment in Seychelles. But as I related to you in my blog post “Too Much of Heaven Can Bring You Underground“, where I mentioned about some serious problems my husband had to face because of the landlord of another house we were renting before in the North of the country, I have to be very precautions on the way I need to keep the apartment clean. And on that day, I had a lot of food to cook since the day after we are used to fasting by only eating vegetarian food, I had some deep cleaning to do in the whole place since after only two days, the apartment turned dirty and dusty again, and I had a lot of laundry to do, especially since there were some white tissues which accidentally accumulated red stains after washing, and which I had to restore with some special products I could purchase especially for that in a supermarket in UAE, since those products weren’t available in Seychelles. I could earn a lot of time fortunately since my son was very tired after having waken up so early and then could do a 2-hour nap, but after such a hard day, I was so tired that I was feeling lots of back, feet and shoulder pains during the whole evening and that I was feeling very weak. But what pricked me was that, despite all the efforts that I did for all those chores, my husband kept on yelling in the house for some nasty details and each time our little one was misbehaving, without trying to understand that he was in good shape since he could rest for two hours to recuperate, and he even indirectly accused me of lacking discipline when it came on his education! At a moment I was so much fed up that I kept on yelling on my husband to make him shutting his mouth, and I felt completely demotivated and discouraged in front of such arrogance and ingratitude from my husband! Also today, because of that demotivation, I did almost nothing today apart some light chores and looking after my son since he came back from school. And again, my husband, whose mood unfortunately didn’t improve at all, kept on accumulating on me his moral lessons when he noticed some tasks not properly done, or things going wrong with our son, etc. At a moment I couldn’t bear it anymore for having so many moral lessons and reproaches from him, and while I brought the little one to the playroom after his dinner, since there was a playroom in the residential area which was kept open until quite late in the evening, my nerves went on and I heavily burst in tears, exactly in the same situation in which Kavita was retrieving herself in “Teaspoon”. I even have the sensation that, though my husband pretends that he understands me, in reality it’s not the case at all and I felt that I retrieved myself in front of a brick of wall exactly like Kavita felt with husband Rajiv.

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In such a moment of despair, I confided into a common good friend of ours, who is known for being a hardworker, regarding my situation, but she was categorical with me as a purely traditional Hindu woman: We, Hindu women, should be able to bear the burden of the whole world over our shoulders without complaining, even though we are sick, and we should always manage on our own and represent a rock on which our husband and children should always rely on through both thick and thin. She herself was an oppressed daughter-in-law when her children were still small, and had to face the burden of being always isolated by her mother-in-law and her sisters-in-law, and she even never had any encouragement nor support from her husband during those moments of struggles. But contrary to Kavita, she never gave up and kept on persevering without asking anyone’s help, and when her elder daughter got married, it was only at that moment that her husband really started to understand her and to recognize her values and how his own family were completely wrong about his wife. It’s in that purpose that she always encourages me to cultivate that fighting spirit that all Hindu women should always have within them, even in the worst cases. I remember that on my Google+ profile, I once posted a picture of several women who had to participate into a house construction, by carrying tons of heavy bricks over their head, since they were working to earn a living to help their husband with poor working revenue, so that they could fulfill their house hold. And after work, they had to continue working for the children, the family, the food and the housekeeping at home and had very few time to rest, but they never complained and always bore the burden of their responsibilities in silence, at the image of Mother India.

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I never complained so far since there are still a lot of married Indo-Mauritian women like me, who may be either younger or older than me, who continue to cultivate the tradition of being submitted spouses and mothers for their family, and who are always judged through their behaviour and through their clothing, appearance and daily responsibilities each and every day. Even though I have been raised within a half Creole, half Indian family, and that my mother mostly showed the glance of the Creole woman who was authoritarian, lived her womanhood fully despite her responsibilities and who always had her word to say and her presence to impose wherever she was going, I married a Hindu man and had to change myself drastically from the Creole education I received from my mother to the submitted spouse and mother I had to become, since all women and spouses in my family-in-law should always dress and behave respectfully, and be totally submitted under their husbands’ authority, though their husbands give them everything they need materially and financially, and though they have the right, especially during family meetings, to express themselves and to have an identity to show. For years, I haven’t been like that since I was always surrounded with maids around me like in my mother’s place, but when I stepped back into my native Mauritius after having spent the first years of my marriage life in Madagascar, I had to start everything from scratch and learn the hard responsibilities that every Hindu spouse should learn to do. It was very hard because I was always pressurised by my in-laws, and all the time compared to my sister-in-law, who had a child before me and who was more experimented than I was. But what pricked me the most was that during so many years, my in-laws considered her as the perfect daughter-in-law, whereas I have been considered as the incomplete daughter-in-law, which is the reason behind which one day, in a moment of despair after the huge fight I had with my father-in-law and which, I hope, put a final full stop to all those comparisons between us, I wrote “Sleeping Tablets“, a short story ending with suicide… whereas in real life, I am still alive and fighting, contrary to my fictional character Sapna in the story. And in addition to all that, I had no help from my parents, since I was and am still in bad terms with them, like I explained in all my other previous blog posts. But even though I was very harsh and cruel with my father-in-law during that fight, after which he had a very high blood pressure because of me, thing for which I never apologised though I was worried about his state of health (Hell yeah, I can be extremely cruel when I am angry, including against my elders, because when I have my points to defend, I never keep silent!), my father-in-law stopped comparing me with my sister-in-law, not because he understood my situation, how it was frustrating for me and how it made me sick, but rather because he was mostly scared of my overreactions and that he preferred shutting his mouth to avoid another argument with me.

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I don’t complain about the way I am leading my life as a housewife, mother and spouse, and I am very thankful that my husband gives me of everything and that I improved a lot the way I manage my daily responsibilities at home. I am also thankful that despite the struggle, my husband respects the fact that I need to cultivate my passion for literature, creative writing and blogging, since it helps me being better balanced in life and better managing my struggles, frustrations and moments of stress through expressing the voice of my heart through written words. But what I am facing, and what lots of Indo-Mauritians face again, even though the Indo-Mauritian society drastically emancipated through the years, resembles exactly the situation that still so many women face in India, since most of Mauritians have their inheritance within their Indian ancestors’ roots, and since Indo-Mauritians represent about 81% of the Mauritian population. There was another video which I loved watching from Bollywood actress Kalki Koechlin, a satiric video regarding rape, where she and another Bollywood star named Juhi Pandey ironically replied to what so many Indian women (and even Mauritian women) face as a critic when they are victims of abuse and rape, “RAPE: It’s Your Fault” which followed the numerous series of sexual assaults which had been filed since the famous 2012 Delhi Gang Rape which savagely shook the Indian society, especially women. In that satiric video, the kind of moral lesson that unfortunately too many women hear, in India like in Mauritius, is that one:

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This is exactly the kind of summon that women hear from men to be “respected” in society, and it doesn’t only concerns India but even Mauritius. Even though I have had toxic parents, the kind of education that they gave me was exactly what I obtained as per that picture, and I keep on practising that type of educational manner passively since I married a man with strict manners and am now part of a strict family-in-law who exegeses that every spouse should behave properly, not showing off in public, doing their house chores properly and wearing decent clothes. Myself, I do it every day, though I still have that rebellious voice within me which speaks when it has to, and though there is nonetheless a certain freedom of expression between me and my husband, even though there are still so many things that I keep untold and that I prefer writing in my blog instead. I even remember having watched a sort of short film that a good friend of mine once realised on his Facebook account, where men kept on being accused because of the Delhi gang rape, where he showed also the medal reverse that women aren’t that innocent either because they don’t behave as decently nor as respectively as before, especially since they are more and more caught on cheating, exposing their assets publicly, talking about their sexual life more and more openly with strangers, etc. And, of course, that it’s one of the reasons why they attract men to rape them… Another type of classical male accusation that I have heard that women are mostly responsible of their own rapes, which has nonetheless a part of truth especially on cheating. I remember having had so many male friends who faced hard heart breaks and relationship endings, since their girlfriends preferred lust and money with rich and wealthy men than true love they could receive from my friends, and on that purpose, with the education I have been brainwashed with, I found those girls really cheap and heartless, being myself a woman, and I gave my full support to my male friends.

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But there was a comment which I really loved reading in reply to the short movie “Teaspoon”, which stipulated that, I quote, “Wife should not be treated as a machine. A machine does not need any appreciation for the work it does. But, the wife expects some appreciation for the work she does. For that matter, even husband likes if he is appreciated for the job he does. In this short film, the husband never tries to understand the problem she faces in his absence at home. If he would have appreciated his wife for all the care she takes for his father other than doing house hold work, his wife would have felt happy and such ending would not have taken place. His wife was not bad in nature. Let all the husband learn to appreciate their wife for their contribution in running the family, to have a happy and peaceful family.” That should have been a good response to all what I have written previously, that if women became so bad and cheap, it wasn’t totally their fault, but especially because they had been victim of bad treatments in the past because of men, and mostly after having escaped from forceful marriages, at the example of late Bandit Queen Phoolan Devi, who was forced to marry an elder cousin whereas she was still a teenager, or of late Pakistani model Qandeel Baloch, who posted provocative pictures and videos of her years after having escaped a forced marriage, before she was killed by her brother “in honor for the family”! I also invite you to pay attention to Kalki Koechlin’s poem “Dear Men“, which perfectly depicts on how men are hypocrite towards women, and dare claiming once per year the International Women’s Day, and which is a strong slap about disrespect of womanhood. And finally regarding the rapists, I found something very interesting on a blog, where there was a review about the short video “RAPE: It’s Your Fault”, the kind of message that women dream men should read carefully so that they take conscious that it’s unfair of putting 90% of the blame over women, and only 10% on men:

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But after all what I wrote previously, as per whatever a good friend of mine, Indian author Pratap DivyeshPratap Divyesh, wrote in his book “A Responsible Confession“, Pratap perfectly depicts who should be blamed in the Delhi Gang Rape… I started reading the book, and the answer I obtained was that all started with OURSELVES… That before blaming the victim for having gone out late, before blaming the rapist for his irresponsible and monstrous action against an innocent girl, we should first have a look at our inner self before judging anyone… And he was right about it. It’s not the man or the woman who is responsible of the rape… It all starts with our minds first. And the extract of that article perfectly concludes about who is guilty in rape and we will see that both sexes are concerned:

As per my consideration the responsibility lies equally between both sexes because without a small mislead both sexes cannot cross the limits. In western countries there is a lot of reports on “Date Rape”which is a girl getting raped when she is going for a dating with a guy. If we analyse the situation there may be a little clue of what triggered the Rape situation and what may have been done to avoid that. In India this is now becoming a big problem since we have reports on this type of rape. In this both victim and the accused is known to each other. The situation created the problem.

If the girl is little bit cautious about her surroundings this may not have happened. If the guy is little cautious about the values of the friendship/love of that Girl then this may have been avoided. Recently there was a report which involves Rakhi  Sawant and popular pop singer. When we saw the pictures of Rakhi Sawant it was just a piece of cloth which was tied just by two knots near her breast. If we untie the knots then her dress will fall and she will be undressed. This kind of dresses will change a good mind to bad. We must know what to wear where. Yes there may be a little conditioned freedom is needed when we go to public because not all eyes and minds are same.

The true Diwali Starts within our Hearts and Souls… before being celebrated at Home!

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I was very tired after such a hectic day on Sunday, and even yesterday, since my son didn’t resume school back after his mid-term holidays, because of the bad weather outside and due to some health complications, which made that I had to look after him and at the same time catch back a lot of delayed chores and prepare dinner, but I didn’t want to fall asleep without writing that blog post, which I could publish this morning only due to network problems I occurred last night because of slow-down of Internet connection. Last Sunday was a very special day: It was Diwali Day.

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For those who never heard about Diwali, in the Hindu religion, it commemorates the return of Lord Rama from Lanka, after he defeated the King Demon Ravana, who kept Lord Rama’s wife Sita prisoner after having trapped and kidnapped her from her home, and saved the life of His beloved wife Sita. When Lord Rama returns to his homeland together with His wife Sita, He is welcomed by all his devotees with oil lamps called Diyas, which they illuminate all along His footsteps together with flowers to welcome Him and to celebrate His victory. Diwali is also the opportunity for Hindus to celebrate Goddess Laxmi, who is the Goddess of Wealth and Prosperity, whom they thank during that special occasion for all the good luck She has been bringing into Hindu families all over the past year, and also the Elephant God Ganesha, who is the Son of Lord Shiva and His wife Parvati and who represents the God who removes all obstacles, and Goddess Saraswati, who is the Goddess of Arts and Knowledge and spouse of the Creator God Brahma. On Diwali day, in India, in Mauritius like in every Hindu families, a couple of days before Diwali starts, families deep clean their houses, buy a new broom, a new cooking recipient, some new clothes and jewels for the occasion and at times start preparing some sweet cakes, since the varieties are numerous and that some of them need a long time of preparation. On Diwali morning, spouses keep on preparing some cakes and offer those cakes with the Holy Prashads (offers to God during prayer) to Laxmi Maa, Saraswati Maa, Lord Ganesha and also to Lord Rama and His Beloved wife Sita before packing the cakes and distributing them with all their family members, friends and loved ones before 06.00.pm, wearing their new clothes and jewels for that special occasion. The rest of the cakes that they don’t have time to distribute, they give them during the day after, since they need to be back at home before 06.00.pm to light on all the oil lamps (Diyas) before that time, which is the time, according to the Hindu ritual, where Goddess Laxmi enters the house of the family to bring Her holy blessings in the house. Diwali represents a very festive day, since after the rituals, youngsters and adults have a lot of fun with sparkles and firecrackers, folkloric songs and dances until late in the night.

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But through the experience that I had yesterday, the Diwali that I celebrated together with my little family was very different. We are still settled in the Seychelles all alone, since my son goes to school there and that my husband still works there. On Saturday, my son and my husband went for shopping to buy all the necessary stuffs for celebrating Diwali, whereas I stayed at home to proceed with a deep cleaning of the house. But since we were staying in an apartment that we were renting only temporarily, we didn’t buy any new broom nor recipient, but we only lit a new oil lamp at night for the evening prayer. On Sunday, my husband and I woke up very early to have shower, to perform our usual morning prayers and then, after a quick breakfast, I tidied the kitchen and started preparing the sweet cakes, while my husband was busy finishing an urgent work. To be honest, I have very few experience in cooking Indian sweet cakes, since it was only the second time in my life that I experienced cooking them on my own, and later I will explain you why. I first wanted to cook some Rasgoolahs, which are some little round cakes made with milk powder, which you should fry in hot cooking oil before rubbing them with a homemade cardamom syrup. Unfortunately, since we have an electric oven which heats too much, my Rasgoolahs got burnt and I had to throw all of them in the dustbin 😦 Furthermore, I tried another type of cakes, the Nankatais, which are some vegetarian cookies made with corn semolina. They were not too bad but they didn’t have the original shapes that Nankatais have in general, and rather looked like some ordinary cookies, but they were presentable and, according to my husband and to my son who enjoyed them to the core, they were delicious 🙂 So happy for them! After the Nankatais, I tried some Almond Barfis. Barfis are some cakes made with liquid and powder milk, sugar, cardamom powder and almond powder, which should have a thick texture after the Barfi paste gets colder and is then cut into some little diamond shape cakes. I tried the Barfi cakes and even included some green food colour in it to give it a more attractive presentation. However, since the Barfi didn’t have enough time to get colder due to the lack of time, the paste was very sticky when I tried to cut off the diamond shaped cakes! The taste was good though, but the presentation was a true disaster, and I learnt trough that catastrophe that next time, I shall prepare it the day before, so that the texture gets more firm. Finally I ended with Gulab Jamun, a sort of oval shape cake which resembles the Rasgoolah, but with a thicker texture since you add more flour in it. But when I tried the oval shape, I had difficulties to cook it because of the overheating oven, also I had to give the Gulab Jamun a round shape for a better cooking, and I may say I succeeded them. After the cakes were over, we gifted each type of cakes in front of our Deities which we regularly pray before distributing them with some of our neighbours and friends before lighting the Diyas at 06.00.pm. Contrary to the previous years, we only had two Diyas, one in our Prayer room, and one in our kitchen, since the kitchen represents the heart of Hindu homes, like all homes in general. We also got in touch with our relatives and close friends to share the Diwali wishes, looked after our young son, since he would resume school the day after, and my husband prepared a delicious carrot, potato and leak soup for dinner. And here I am, while my husband and my son are deep asleep, sharing you how my Diwali went on… And why I chose such a title to write my blog today.

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Before I share with you my personal experience, I have had the pleasure reading a recent post from one of my compatriots, where he expressed his own opinion about Diwali, and I really enjoyed that opinion because what he wrote in his post was completely right and summarises exactly what I have myself been experiencing before. He mentioned in his post exactly the way Mauritians celebrate Diwali nowadays: with hypocrisy and by showing off what they have. With the huge economical progress, lots of Mauritians tend to show off their wealth by building big houses, buying the latest high-tech products, the most expensive car, etc. But the medal reverse behind so much wealth is completely different and proves that the Mauritian society is based upon the principle that all what glitters isn’t true gold. To appear so much fortunate, Mauritians have a lot of debts since they need to contract loans with their banks or insurances, which they struggle to reimburse in return. There are some Mauritians coming from affluent families or of affluent personalities, who are protected by some religious communities, by freemasonry or who don’t even hesitate to call after sorcerers to be able to influence people through their fortune and words. There are some dealers who operate illegally in prostitution, child labour, drugs and all sorts of illicit businesses in exchange of dirty money. There are some corrupted people who either bribe their suppliers or superiors in exchange of money despite the active intervention of the ICAC in Mauritius to obtain some favours they don’t deserve. And it’s most of them who celebrate Diwali with so much extravaganza for the pleasure of showing off and without realising they are mocking Goddess Laxmi, and this without any shame nor remorse! And those same people expect that with so many lights decorating their houses, with huge Laxmi poojas celebrated in their houses, so many cakes shared with hypocrite Happy Diwali wishes to people they criticise, envy and dislike in reality, Laxmi Maa will step into their houses? And how about She shows Her anger by removing all the luck and wealth Her fake devotees accumulated for years to punish them,will they accept their fault or reject the wrong on others… including on Laxmi Maa?

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Regarding my own experience on Diwali, yes, I admit that I have also experienced Diwali in total ignorance and hypocrisy, but in a totally different concept. As I have mentioned in some of my posts, before marriage, I followed my parents’ religious steps mostly based on Roman Catholicism, Anglicanism and Christianity, before embracing Hinduism, though I kept on practising a few Catholic rituals after marriage, since my husband also praised Mother Mary regularly. I gave more details about that experience when I wrote about the way I took back the Hindu religion that my father rejected against his family’s approval. Since my father changed his religious orientation totally, as an ex-Hindu, he never felt the necessity to explain me the true meaning of Diwali, since myself I was christened Roman Catholic after I was born. However, for the pleasure of celebrating Diwali and being part of the Diwali festive mood, we enjoyed ourselves by buying Indian sweets and Diwali carton boxes, sharing the cakes and preparing the boxes equitably before sharing the cakes with my paternal relatives, and lightning some electric lamps… and even some Diyas! What was funny was that even though we were not following Hinduism, my father allowed that we would light Diyas, but he never explained me the meaning of the Diya… And myself, since I was so naive and ignorant, it never came into my mind to ask my father to explain me about the meaning of the Diya, nor about the difference between lightning a Diya and lightning some electric lamps. It’s through the news on television that I came to know about the meaning of the Diya and the information I obtained about its meaning was more than enough for my general, cultural and religious knowledge about Hinduism, since I wasn’t a Hindu devotee before marriage. After marriage, I embraced Hinduism, but yet, I admit that I had so much things to learn about Hinduism. My paternal family members were Hindus for the most of them, but none of them taught me about Hinduism, in one hand because my parents would never allow them to influence me on Hinduism because of my Christianity, in another hand because myself I was linked to Christianity and never wanted to betray my religion, which was the one in which my parents placed me since I was born. Things drastically changed after marriage, since, like I described in the post regarding my conversion to Hinduism, which I mentioned previously in that paragraph, I never expected that one day, I would be taught about the importance for me to embrace Hinduism after marriage. At first though, since I had no one to really explain me the basics that I was supposed to know, I ignored about the importance for me, as a spouse in a Hindu couple, to prepare the Diwali sweet cakes with my own hands by lightning myself the oven with my hands. I have been living in Madagascar from 2005 till 2009 and then had to leave Madagascar in emergency with my husband because of the socio-political crisis of 2009 which shook the country and forced so many expatriates to leave the country for safety reasons. But during all the time I was settled there, we had a Malagasy maid who used to prepare all our meals and who had a very strong experience in Pakistani cuisine, which mostly was alike Indian cuisine, at the exception of a few variants. Even Pakistani cuisine included Diwali sweets… But the difference was that Pakistani sweets all included eggs among the main ingredients, whereas Indian sweets excluded eggs, which was considered as an animal product as per Hinduism and wasn’t allowed to be used for cooking Indian sweets, especially since those sweets are distributed after prayer sessions with Hindu priests and during Diwali celebration and prayers, and also should be purely vegetarian sweets, by respect for the religion which didn’t authorise any animal product as offerings. Before marriage, my husband, who was already settled in Madagascar, then completely ignored that the Malagasy maid included eggs in the Diwali cakes she prepared for being distributed by my husband to his compatriots and colleagues, until one day, my mother-in-law, who was on holidays at his place in Madagascar, noticed that our maid included eggs and then forbid the maid using eggs again, explaining her as best as she could the meaning behind it, and the maid then stopped using eggs. Since it was the maid who used to prepare the cakes, and since she was already a good cook, I never cared about learning how to prepare food, and I admit it, since i came from a rich family where I had maids all the time to serve me, I was a spoilt child and I was never interested into learning the rules of being a good and independent housewife, until we had to leave Madagascar and that I retrieved myself on my own, and then forced to learn everything from scratch! For Diwali 2009, since we were living at my in-laws’ place, and 2013, during which we were on holidays at my in-laws’ place one year after our settlement in Seychelles, since my in-laws were preparing all the cakes and that we were mostly busy with our young son, I didn’t cook one single Diwali cake. For Diwali 2010 to 2012 that we celebrated in Mauritius, during which we were renting my husband’s uncle’s house until we would obtain our own house in January 2013, we could manage with some Rasgoolah, but we even ordered some cakes outdoors to complete what we cooked, but some of my in-laws, especially my sister-in-law, who was known to be always competitive with me since we know each other, was all the time teasing me ironically because of that, and it really pricked me though I never replied her anything to her provocations. But for the last three Diwalis that we celebrated in Seychelles from 2014 to 2016, we had to manage on our own. In 2014, my husband helped me a lot, whereas the two other years, since he was at work and our son at school in 2015, and since my husband was very busy with an emergency task this year, I had to manage on my own. I won’t say that my cakes were brilliant, but one thing was sure, I did my very best and I was proud that I could try to follow the Hindu tradition for Diwali as a true Hindu spouse after so many years of struggle and wrong experience choices. I understood that, as a Hindu spouse, for Diwali, it was of my duty, as a Laxmi in my family and in the home that I represent together with my husband and my child, it was MY duty to light the fire from MY oven, in MY kitchen, in MY home. It was MY duty to bake the cakes with MY efforts and own hands. It was finally MY duty to be the first person in the family to light the oil lamp for Diwali to welcome Laxmi Maa. It WAS NOT the Malagasy maid’s hands which counted to light the oven and prepare the cakes, though she did it in our house. It WAS NOT my mother-in-law to light her oven in her kitchen and to prepare the cakes. Because the efforts for those cakes and prayers were coming from OTHER PEOPLE, and it was THOSE PEOPLE who were harvesting the prosperity from Laxmi Maa, and NOT the three of us, since the efforts didn’t come from ME, the Hindu Housewife.

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However, this year, we were away from my in-laws, from our native country and from my family. People were pitying us because of that, thinking that we were sad for being alone, but it wasn’t true, at least for me personally. Yes, it’s true that I was alone, but I wasn’t lonely. I wasn’t lonely since after so many struggles I had been experiencing with my own family, and which I had been sharing in several of my previous blog posts, I totally eliminated my biological family from my life, and that I came to understand, after so many difficulties, that there was no worth for me to have a biological family with heartless, fake, hypocrite and hurtful and hateful feelings towards me. I wasn’t lonely, since I eliminated a lot of people among even my in-laws, who deceived me a lot through their behaviour towards me and the numerous critics and gossips I had been victim of since I entered my family-in-law and embraced their name, rites and rituals. Among those in-laws, I especially kept grudge against my father-in-law, who prefers my other sister-in-law than me, since she is the one who completes him the best, and I also keep grudge against my sister-in-law herself since she always keeps on competing with me since I entered the family. And you won’t believe me, but I didn’t even greet them Happy Diwali, since I didn’t want to be hypocrite with anyone this year, and that I preferred keeping silent instead of wishing Happy Diwali hypocritically to people that I dislike and despise. I wasn’t lonely since I moved away from my native country, where I had been unfortunate before and even after marriage and where I only keep bitter memories instead of sweet ones because of my family, most of my in-law, bad school experience during which I was considered a loner and at times was even bullied at school, where I never knew about experiencing a good socio-cultural life, and where unfortunately I made so many bad choices among those I thought would be true friends for me, but who were just illusions, at the exception of very few Mauritian people whom I still cherish a lot, but who made the object of a very selective choice by myself and at times with intervention of my husband. Finally, I wasn’t lonely, like I mentioned before, because I eliminated so many fake friends who turned either strangers or enemies to me through some bitter and unexpected life circumstances. I spent Diwali mostly with my husband and my son, through farewell thoughts shared with some people dear to me but geographically living away from me, through some people in the neighbourhood with whom I have a rather good relationship… and with God above all. But hell yes, I was alone… But I was happy, since I wasn’t lonely.

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By the same way, even though I didn’t succeed my cakes, though there were times I panicked under effect of stress and pressure, and at times because my son was mischievous with me in the kitchen, I gave so much punishment to myself to prepare all those cakes, and though at times my husband reproached me drastically when he found that my cakes weren’t good at all, though after those reproaches I wanted to let everything down, sit down and burst in tears, I found back the courage I started to loose to improve my preparations as best as possible, and though the final result wasn’t exactly what was expected, the cakes were tasty and delicious… But unfortunately, it seems that in Seychelles, local people don’t like sweet cakes too much, which means that unfortunately none of the cakes I baked for Diwali were consumed by my husband’s Seychellois colleagues. Only one of his colleagues from South Africa enjoyed the cakes, since he loved tasting new stuffs, but that was all. I was very deceived, and I even interpreted their reaction as pure racism and despise against Indians and Mauritians, which means that I swore to myself to never bake so many cakes next time, if those cakes will finally finish in the dustbin or in a forgotten corner of the kitchen cupboard or fridge. I was very deceived that so much energy and fatigue has been used finally for nothing when it came about sharing. But what consoled me though was that before sharing the cakes, I could perform my prayers in total simplicity and with a sincere heart.

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Finally, during all the times we celebrated Diwali in Seychelles, neither I nor my husband nor our son, except that year at least for our son with new clothes we succeeded buying for him during our latest trip overseas, had the opportunity to wear new clothes and accessories. We appeared in front of God and in front of people with our previous clothes but which were still in good state. We couldn’t even buy  new broom this year to clean the flat we are actually renting, since we are renting it temporarily only, nor a new cooking recipient to cook our cakes for the same reason as the broom. But we succeeded lightning a new Diya that we never used before, and this the day before the Diwali Day. The fact that we could at least light a new Diya this year was the most important for us since we at least succeeded welcoming a new light full of hope and courage in our lives, after so many struggles that we had been facing in our little family and in our marriage life. The way I had to manage on my own most of the Diwali celebration this year, and even last year was difficult, but my husband interpreted that experience as a test, since a true Hindu housewife, since she stands as a Laxmi in a Hindu family, must represent the rock of the family through both thick and thin, and be able to bear both the joyful moments and burdens of life upon her shoulders.

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Myself, through the years since I married, the more years go by, the stronger I feel I am becoming, though I admit I am still very fragile and vulnerable and that I need protection from stronger people than me to succeed in life. But that latest Diwali tested me and taught me some tough lessons: Quality instead of quantity. Sincerity and honesty versus show off and hypocrisy. Finally, the importance of the presence of the light inside our own hearts, souls and auras before spreading it in our houses and prayer rooms, since the first door Laxmi Maa will enter is the inner door to our hearts, souls and auras, and then the doors of our houses and surroundings.

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So on those words above and as I mentioned in my WhatsApp status, I am wishing Happy Diwali to all my dearest ones, the ones whom I cherish the best and sincerely, but I am not wishing Happy Diwali to those whom I dislike and despise, because they don’t deserve it. However for those same people, who represent my enemies, I wish them that the Light of God penetrates their inner selves and succeeds into cleansing their hearts and souls from all the darkness and shadows making them haunted and miserable, and that they feel the blessing and the welfare of that Light of God within themselves for a positive change, for themselves to start, and then for the rest of the world.

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How I took back the Religion my Father Rejected

My first religious steps and struggles

I am a native from Mauritius, born from an Indo-Mauritian father and an African Creole mother. Religion has always been a huge part of my life since I was born, but it was my mother’s religion which was mostly predominant, whereas it should have been my father’s religion which should have been mine.
Most Hindu families are built under the patriarchal authority, but it had never been the case for my parents, since it was mostly my father who was bending under my mother’s authority.
My mother came from a Roman Catholic family, which made that I also got christened by my half-sister (my father’s first marriage daughter) at the Ste Therese Church in Curepipe, and by my uncle, who is my mother’s elder brother. But though I was regularly assisting the weekly masses, and though I also did my Holy Confession and Holy Communion as a Roman Catholic, I also very often assisted in parallel to the masses from the Anglican Church of St Thomas in Beau Bassin together with my father. However, I didn’t do my confirmation at the age of 10 since during that period, I felt a partial disinterest and demotivation in keeping on following the catechism at school, though I kept on doing it for again 4 years when I started secondary school. But after my last year of catechism, then I stopped practicing and had no more steps to follow within my religious vocation. At a moment, my mother felt I had to follow another step, and then she put me within the Anglican Diocese of Mauritius, as a part of the Parish of St Clement in Curepipe. For four years I was part of the Church and actively participated into some church and diocesan activities, such as being part of the Youth Group, Adults Choir, Youth Choir and responsible of the Anglican Liturgy within the Youth Group as well. Unfortunately, because of my father who always kept on making scandals when I attended my church activities, since he always feared that I would fail in my studies, I couldn’t continue anymore attending the activities, and had to lessen them by force. I also got some conflicts with some of the church members, who disagreed with me on a lot of things while I was trying to give my best during the participation of the church activities. But the straw that broke the camel was especially the lady who was responsible of the Adult Choir of the church who reproached me of being too much absent to the rehearsals, and who scolded me with bold words, saying that if I couldn’t be regular to the rehearsals, then it would be better that I wouldn’t be anymore a part of the Adults Choir. Her words made me the effect of a knife blade in my heart, and not only did I leave the Church forever, but I also left the Anglican Diocese forever, for never coming back again. My father, who forgot that he was the one who discouraged me to follow the church activities, then started blackmailing me for going back to church, until I couldn’t bear it and told him, with eyes full of tears, how the Adults Choir Responsible lady scolded me lastly… But I didn’t have the courage to scold my father for the discouragements I had to bear from him since he forced me to lessen my church activities 😦 But today I am writing that part of my religious journey, a religious journey full of ups and downs during all the time that I was at my parents’ place.
An unexpected upsetting
When I turned 9 years old, another unexpected event came into my life and was also indirectly responsible of my religious instability. One morning, two ladies knocked at my parents’ door. One of them was a French lady with Italian roots, who married a Mauritian person. Both ladies were… Jehovah’s Witnesses! My mother got so deeply influenced by their words, and mostly by the Italian French lady who was a very charming person, that she let them coming in the house. Since that day, lots of mess started getting created in the house. When my grandfather bought that house for my father, who would become the first doctor of the family, that house belonged to a French Mauritian owner before. Though my patriarchal family was mostly Hindu, there was a statue of Virgin Mary in its cave in the garden, face to my bedroom’s window. Since those two Jehovah’s Witnesses came in, they forced my mother to remove that statue, and also all the other religious icons that my mother settled for prayer, including some pictures of Father Laval, a Saint whom all Roman Catholic Mauritians worshipped on his tomb at Ste Croix in the North Part of the country, and a beautiful picture of Merciful Christ, which still appears on my mind very often each time I think about Lord Jesus! Not only were the icons forbidden, but even some events were forbidden as well, such as birthday cakes, Easter eggs, Christmas trees etc! The more my mother was following their rules, the more she imposed them on the whole house instead of keeping it for herself only, and the worse the atmosphere at home became topsy-turvy and unbearable, and worse again since my mother abandoned her Roman Catholic religion and turned as a Jehovah’s Witness at her turn! She even tried to influence my father to follow some Biblical courses with the Italian French lady’s husband as well! But when my half-brother came to know about our father following those courses, he laughed out lord, finding our father really ridiculous, since he knew very well our father would never follow the Jehovah’s Witness rules and remain Anglican, and since he knew that our father wasn’t a regular practising as well. Thanks to him indirectly, my father had to bend and to stop following his religious courses, which he admitted being boring to him, and which he did not for his own faith, but only to please my mother and nothing else.
My young adult years without religion
Because of all that mess caused by my mother’s obsession for the Jehovah’s Witness, and because of an immature mistake I did by asking God to allow some insane things for me, which God refused to give me, instead of recognizing that I did a mistake, I put all the blames on God, which made that I turned away from all religions for a very long period of my life. Then at a moment in year 2002, seeing that I had no religious steps again, my mother, since I refused to be part of the Jehovah’s Witnesses despite her first influences, then chose to put me at Christian Centre, under the supervision of its leaders, a couple of French Mauritians. But the praise and worship didn’t bring into my heart the results I was expecting, and I didn’t succeed into finding the peace of heart and soul that I was looking for. At the same moment, I was very unstable in my life, especially in my sentimental life after so many love deceptions and one-night stands which made me more and more deceived each and every day in my life. The biggest deception was especially my latest ex-boyfriend, whose parents categorically refused that he would marry me in church, elsewhere he would be given damnation by his family! Because of our religious and cultural differences though my ex-boyfriend used to pray at church while studying in Europe, and due to the increasing family pressure he was facing with his parents and sisters as the only son of the family, our relationship drastically splitted after only 6 months and broken promises and left me fully heartbroken for one month, until I met in August 2004, at his younger brother’s marriage, the one who is today my husband and the father of our young and unique son who was born from our union in May 2011.
New religious struggles appeared after marriage
Since I was still Christian before marriage, and under my parents’ influence and authority, I couldn’t follow my husband’s steps and had to stay in my own corner each time he had to go to temple and to pray. When my husband, who was living overseas since a couple of years, came back to Mauritius or went back overseas, there were some rituals which my future in-laws used to do with him and, one afternoon, I was asked to stand besides my future husband to receive the blessings, though I wouldn’t accompany him in the aircraft. But since I was still Christian, I refused to stand besides my husband and frankly said I didn’t have any right to participate in them since I was still Christian. I still remember how everyone was shocked when I mentioned about it, but my sister-in-law said that I have been really courageous to have declined them, since she would never have that courage if she was at my place. During the marriage preparations, I have been also trapped by my parents for the same purposes. There was a time during childhood, where I didn’t mind about wearing a white wedding dress and veil for getting married, since we assisted a lot of Roman Catholic and Anglican weddings for years. But since I witnessed one of my elder cousins’ Hindu Marriage and visioned her wedding ceremony which was filmed by some extended relatives of ours, I was so seduced by the way Hindu weddings were celebrated that I was no more interested into getting married in Church, and I really meant what I was saying. Unfortunately, my mother underestimated me and thought I was telling that only on a whim… and she imposed the celebration of our Christian wedding just after the Hindu wedding ceremony, by inviting only her family and some VIP people whom my father cared about as their personal doctor… And by avoiding inviting my in-laws and my patriarchal family!!! That wickedness from my mother deeply hurt my in-laws, who never expected how my mother could stoop so low, and in such a way that my father-in-law very often menaced to burn our Christian wedding costumes if he had those costumes within his hands! My husband, on that day, was feeling very sad and lonely, and I could feel it, though I tried to distract him with two little nieces of mine who came to us to destress the atmosphere. Despite my mother’s wickedness, my in-laws fortunately didn’t reject me and accepted me as their daughter-in-law, but they permanently lived in the fear that I would influence my husband to turn Christian instead of letting him keeping his Hindu religion, and since they knew how my mother was an excessively authoritarian and exigeant person when it came on my education! that influence continued during the first month of our marriage, though I accompanied my husband in his Hindu prayers, but what disturbed him was when I was doing my Christian prayers, though I had nothing to hide, all this because my husband always had that fear that I would force him to turn Christian, despite having warned me several times and so severely that he categorically refused, since he didn’t want to be rejected by his parents, and since I always respected his decision and kept on fighting against my mother, who kept on influencing me about turning my husband as Christian!
A humiliation which finally forced me to change religion, though no one among my in-laws forced me to do it, and though despite being forced, I had that will to change religion
One month after our marriage, my husband’s colleague from Mauritius came to our place for dinner. When my husband showed him the pictures of our wedding, I saw him hiding the ones of our Christian marriage! His colleague didn’t say anything, but I could feel through his facial expression that he wasn’t indifferent to that secret from my husband. For my part, though I tried to be polite during the whole dinner, I was pricked and felt deeply humiliated. When I asked my husband why he did such a thing and how he could be ashamed about my religion, he said that he hesitated to show our Christian marriage pictures to his colleague since he feared his colleague, who is a Marathi, wouldn’t appreciate it! We kept on fighting for long hours before falling asleep and I cried a lot because of the humiliation I felt towards my religion and the way my husband indirectly insulted my religion… Until at a moment, I felt that I had no other option, than converting into Hinduism and giving away my Christianity. My husband feared that I was taking that decision on a whim, but after a long battle, he was convinced that I was sincere and he had eyes full of tears of joy, but mostly of relief since I took his religion instead of keeping mine, mostly because of the fear of being forced by me and my mother about converting into Christianity. His parents and relatives were so happy and relieved that they congratulated me and respected me more. Even in my family, everyone appreciated my decision, including those of my matriarchal family. Only my mother was against that sudden change of decision, seeing all her hopes of influencing my husband to be by her side eloping away, which made that she desperately tempted everything to make me changing my mind and making me believing I was wrong in my decisions… But in vain! Since that day, she still tries to influence me, but all her temptations ended with total failure all the time and I remained within my Hindu faith.
At some moments though, I was so desperate that in a moment of despair, I wrote a letter to the Lord Jesus to justify my choice, but in that letter, though I expressed a desire coming from the heart, I wrote that I took that decision mostly as a sacrifice for my husband but not of my own will, because I was too scared to hurt the Lord, who had been standing besides me through thick and thin all the time, including during all my moments of religious instability.
I am still practising my Hindu faith together with my husband and removed bovine and porcine within my food habits as well. But what changed though is that I restarted in parallel practising again my Roman Catholic religion by worshipping Virgin Mary, Lord Jesus and some Catholic Saints, and this with total authorisation from my husband and without having to make accounts to my in-laws, since I had to create some boundaries around my spiritual life to have a part of privacy for myself, as long as I have permission from my husband and as long as by my side, I respect my husband’s own religious beliefs.
Conclusion: The genesis behind that religious instability comes from my father
As we say, there is no smoke without fire, and that religious instability, before influencing me, started with my father at first. My father was raised into a purely Hindu family. But when my father was settled in Kerala, where he met his first wife, he was looking for a Hindu temple there to pray, but found only an Anglican Church there. Also, he went to pray there and felt good afterwards. That was the very first step which encouraged him to convert into Anglicanism, at the big scandal of my patriarchal family! By the same way, when his children were born, they followed Anglicanism as well and then turned Roman Catholic since my father started dating my mother after his divorce with his first wife. But despite being Christened, my father had to bend under some Hindu rituals which should have been performed for all his children, as per the conditions imposed by his family. Unfortunately he never performed them since he never believed in them, which caused a lot of problems in my siblings’ lives and even in mine, with the loss of my godmother, my half-brother who turned atheist and my religious instability, which ended difficultly, but with certitude, since I got married. When I analyse the situation in all its totality, it was as if I was retaking my father’s native religion and beliefs after marriage and that I was doing the inverse spiritual journey my father did before. By such a sacrifice, though it was very hard, I not only had learnt a lot of things I ignored, but my life changed drastically and I have the feeling that I succeeded into at the same time setting my in-laws free from all fears they had about my husband’s faith, and at the same time warding off the bad luck which took birth from all that religious instability among my parents and my patriarchal half-siblings.

Ekasringa and Hayagriva

How did the Ekasringa name come into my mind?

As I told you in my post “The Phoenix and the Unicorn“, the first thing which made me getting interested into unicorns was the picture of that beautiful unicorn featuring at the top of that post. But one day, I wanted to look for some details about unicorns. Among my researches, I found that the unicorn was well known also in Hinduism and that the Sanskrit name for the unicorn was Ekasringa.

While doing researches about Ekasringa, I found a little description on Wikipedia, where it was said that it was one of Lord Vishnu’s names in the shape of a unique horn. As per some sources, which though are still abstract, Ekasringa also relates the story “ About a man who becomes an itinerant mystic, meditating and living in the forest among the animals. It gives birth to a divine antelope, a child with a single horn on the head and supernatural powers.“. However, the legend is still unknown behind the legend of Ekasringa, and actually, according to Seema Singh’s article dated Friday 24-Apr-09 and entitled “Scientists inch closer to cracking Indus Valley script“, there had been some scientists who discovered some old Indus scripts which were retrieved on seals and tablets and dated 4000 years. Hereunder, one of those scripts, and a big plan on the one representing Ekasringa, and on which scientists are actually working on, certifying that through those discoveries, they are “trying to write the ‘script’ before [they] can begin reading it“:

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When I see that picture and when I read the description of it as a child with a single horn on the head and supernatural powers, I once again had the proof that unicorns are unique, rare and extraordinary. Most of all, the unicorn is the animal that we cannot see with our eyes but only with our hearts. Unfortunately, very few people have the gift about seeing the unicorn within others and even within themselves, and which is something unique and extraordinary which belongs only to each of us. But to come back to the scientists’ studies about those scripts, I sincerely hope that they will discover a wonderful message unknown from nowadays and which relate the hidden depth of Hinduism through some very powerful messages for the humanity.

But while researching some pictures of Ekasringa, in addition to that picture above, I had the surprise and the great pleasure discovering the existence of a Horse Circus from Quebec, and having the same name Ekasringa. I don’t know much about circus life, also I tried to do some specific researches about it through the equestrian circus band Ekasringa’s website itself. As per the translation I obtained from the original text regarding the values and traditions of that circus cooperation, “EKASRINGA mission is to promote equestrian art along the lines of traditional circus to live like a theater, and produce itinerant horse shows, round track, in a fun atmosphere, where happiness human artists and animals is paramount. The goal of the cooperative is to touch the magnet public places on a human scale and to create proximity and meeting with creators and artists animals of their works.

Then, the pleasure which I found at first about the existence of that circus troop elapsed when I read those lines, and the total indifference from the troop about the inner suffering of those animals during circus shows, since their goal is to earn money through entertaining people and not through protecting those animals. I don’t know why, but as an animal lover, I don’t agree with their principles when I think about how those animals are treated instead of being let in their natural state. I also thought about doing some researches and saw that documentary in French, including a video in English with French subtitles, which confirms exactly whatever I doubted, and about how those animals are treated so cruelly, and only in the aim of satisfying the ego of the spectators and of the circus troop members for money purposes only.

Despite all, I would really be interested one day to discover what hides behind the curtains regarding those animals within the Ekasringa circus, and to see whether they truly love their horses and animals or if they are doing it for purposes of making money only. I would also love, if the Ekasringa team agrees, to discover how they treat their horses and if they respect the horses like they respect themselves. I sincerely pray that despite their aim of making money for entertaining people, they are conscious about the sacredness of the horse and that their horses are treated like kings and queens as well. If it’s the case, if they really care about the welfare of their animals, then it would be a pleasure for me to work with them, since I have a dream in mind which I would love to turn into reality. I noticed that in Mauritius especially, the horses who participate in horse races are very badly mistreated, but what is sad is that very few media talk about the case of horse mistreatment in Mauritius. That interview of Del Ghurburrun, for example, shows perfectly about the passivity of Mauritians towards that increasing drama, and as per Del Ghurburrun, I quote, “There are two to three sites in the island who engage in this activity. These people claim to have an equestrian activity. But they can not explain how the horses disappear from their sites. Thus our inspectorate discovered the case of Big Bad John. It is unfortunate that we did a tour of power. It has no power of seizure. Not until authorization of the official owner to use this horse. This shows the importance of changing the law.” I also had the shock discovering by hazard through that forum discussion the scandal implicating three Mauritian youngsters who slaughtered a horse “only for fun”!!!!! I was scandalized by that matter and I created a dream in my head where I mentioned that, in case I come to discover Ekasringa’s true love for their horses and that I succeed one day earning money with that blog, I associate myself together with Ekasringa to create a GoFundMe Project to finance all the international organizations which are already working hard on stopping mistreatment on horses used for circus, shows, hippodrama, horse races, etc.

On the spiritual site, whatever people don’t seem to understand is that the horse is known as a sacred animal which brings lots of positiveness and happiness to whoever believes in its power, like described in Wikipedia regarding the Horse Worship. Focussing mostly on Hinduism, since I am a devotee of Lord Vishnu, I read that the Horse Worship started at the Bronze age: “In India, Horse worship in the form of worship of Hayagriva dates back to 2000 BC,[1] when the Indo-Aryan people started to migrate into the Indus valley.[2] The Indo-Aryans worshipped the horse for its speed, strength, and intelligence.[3][4] To this day, the worship of Hayagriva exists among the followers of Hinduism.” As per the legend of Hayagriva, it has a very important role to play towards Lord Brahma, who is first God of the Hindu mythology and known as the Creator. As per its legend, Lord Brahma was about to create the world and had to use the Vedas to accomplish His creation. But two demons, Madhu and Kaithaba, created by Lord Brahma through two water droplets, stole the Vedas, which unallowed Lord Brahma completing his work. Advised by Goddess Shakti (the Mother Goddess), Lord Brahma then asked Lord Vishnu’s help to restitute the Vedas. Lord Vishnu, under the shape of His horse avatar Hayagriva, killed the two demons and restituted the scriptures to Lord Brahma. I would love everyone, starting with Hindu people themselves, to pay a special attention to that paragraph so that they would understand about the sacredness of the Horse within humanity. Killing and mistreating a horse is indirectly a way of insulting the power of Lord Vishnu as Hayagriva Avatar.

To conclude, if we pay attention on what is written above, it’s possible to create a link between Ekasringa and Hayagriva, though no traces still prove about the link between them, unless maybe those Scientists succeed into decrypting the ancient scripts from the Indus Valley regarding the Ekasringa. If the Horse is the source of the protection of the World Creation in general, the Ekasringa is the source within each human being since he or she takes birth. The Ekasringa is the extraordinary inner power making each human unique within that big world and helping the human being into cultivating and conservating it preciously, exactly like Lord Hayagriva protecting the Vedas are to Lord Brahma to create the Universe.

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