Sumangali.org: In The Spirit Of Serendipity

Mr Magorium’s Wonder Emporium

The heart in this film is undeniable, and it’s definitely not just for children. As the film’s motto goes: “You have to believe it to see it.” (It’s alone worth watching for a cameo appearance by Kermit the Frog, out shopping, dodging stares from the public).

Mr Magorium (Dustin Hoffman) is a 243-year-old owner of a magical toy shop. Although he has been inventing toys since the mid-1770s, and is perfectly healthy, he has decided that the time has come for him to leave the world, so he bequeaths the shop to its manager, Molly Mahoney (Natalie Portman).

With his imminent departure the emporium itself shows signs of sadness. “We must face tomorrow, whatever it may bring,” says Magorium, to the very soul of the shop, “with determination, joy and bravery”.

Mahoney lacks the necessary faith in herself that she can continue without its magical owner. “Unlikely adventures require unlikely tools,” says Mr. Magorium, and in a rather Zen gesture, gives her The Congreve Cube, a solid block of wood, which he assures her will bring her the answers she needs. “Your life is an occasion,” he reassures her, “Rise to it.”

As the nine-year-old narrator says, “All stories, even the ones we love, must eventually come to an end, and when they do, it’s only an opportunity for another story to begin.”

Read more at imdb.com

Scooby Doo’s Pipe Organ Pizza

The film not only reminded me of the childhood half-belief that toys are really alive, but only move when we’re not looking, I also remembered a special place I used to go to as a child: Scooby Doo’s Pipe Organ Pizza, in Houston.

The organ itself controlled a whole wall of pipes, drums, and strange gadgets, behind glass. The organist would play requests written on little white pieces of paper. I always used to request Tie a Yellow Ribbon because I knew he knew that one. To me it was the closest thing to magic, and all with the accompaniment of most amazing pizza.

It closed down soon after I left America. The organ was apparently salvaged, refurbished and installed in someone’s house.

The Mighty Wurlitzer in Buffalo

And that reminded me of an adventure I went on with my meditation teacher Sri Chinmoy, but that story’s already told, in a publication called Inspiration-Letters at the Sri Chinmoy Centre. In fact you can read a whole variety of stories there from other students of Sri Chinmoy.

“Only the beauty and love
Of a childlike heart
Can transform the nature of the world.”
—Sri Chinmoy
Twenty-Seven Thousand Aspiration-Plants, #26603

I watched an illumining and interesting film last week. Into Great Silence is surely one of the bravest films ever made. Almost three hours long, no script, no score, no commentary. I was compelled to see such a daring feat of minimalism.

Over 20 years before the film’s release, German director Philip Groening applied for permission to film at the Carthusian monastery of Grande Chartreuse in a far corner of the French Alps. He was told it was too early, perhaps in 10-13 years it would be the right time.

16 years later his request was accepted.

You can read the rest of my review at WriteSpirit.net (a beautiful and fascinating site “sharing ancient wisdom and modern inspiration”).

If you watch it, or if you’ve already seen it, let me know what you thought…

I first became acquainted with the Ramayana when someone lent me a translation many years ago, written in rhyming couplets. It was originally written in rhyming couplets, but in Sanskrit, by the sage Valmiki.

I wish I had taken note of the translator, as I have never found a more charming version. The beauty of the writing alone made tears obscure my view of the pages. The story itself is in turns intensely moving and jaw-droppingly thrilling, studded with spiritual lessons which have endured their journey through time. The heart it warms is broken on the next page, and on the next made whole again. Passages of the sweetest purest devotion sit beside almost shocking displays of heroism.

Rama was a virtuous and spiritually evolved Indian prince, forced into exile by his jealous stepmother so her younger son might take the throne. Luckily that son was quite spiritually evolved himself and wouldn’t take the throne from its rightful heir, but that didn’t stop Rama dutifully doing time in the forest.

Rama was accompanied by his wife Sita and his devoted brother Lakshmana. Much of the story revolves around the abduction of Sita by Ravana, the monstrous king of Lanka (now Sri Lanka). In order to rescue Sita, Rama built a bridge of stone from India, with the help of an army of monkeys led by his greatest devotee Hanuman (the monkey god pictured at his feet).

There are many beautiful stories surrounding the building of the bridge. Some say Hanuman wrote the name of Rama on each stone before it was laid, and that his devotion gave the bridge its strength. Some say a spider carried tiny pebbles on its back to add to the cause. Rama was delighted with the spider because it was using its full capacity, however small. Some say the gods made the stones float, others say the gods held them steady so the army could cross. There are so many versions of the story from so many countries. In one Hanuman uses his tail as a bridge, as he had magical powers allowing him to change his size.

About five years ago NASA released pictures from space which show very clearly a bridge across the gulf between India and Sri Lanka. (They’ve named it Adam’s Bridge, but whatever). This finding has sparked much controversy over the age of the bridge, and whether it is man-made or natural. It has been in the news recently because its protection by devotees of Rama is holding up a proposed ferry crossing.

I am not about to chip in to the debate, as I know nothing of geology. As with Stonehenge and other prehistoric structures, we will probably never know the truth. What I do know is the thrill I got today when I first saw the pictures! As there is no concrete evidence either way, I am holding my fond belief that this is the remains of a legend.

You can see the pictures here.

The Ramayana formed a blockbusting 78-episode TV Series in 1980s India which brought the whole country to a standstill every time an episode came out. I’ve watched the whole thing twice, and the sequel Luv Kush about Rama’s sons. It’s very dated and the effects are like something out of a 60s B-movie, but the devotional lessons shine through victoriously. Put away your Hollywood-honed sensitivities and it is deeply inspiring.

The Ramayana was also the backdrop for the 1995 film A Little Princess. Okay I know it’s a soppy film but I secretly love it. Don’t hold it against me, and definitely don’t tell anybody.

Thanks to Rathin at SriChinmoyInspirationGroup for inspiring this post.

Perhaps one gets so used to hearing strange stories in the news that they no longer seem so strange. I read about this one a couple of weeks ago, and thought “Oh that’s nice,” then turned the page. It is only now that I am realising how absurd it is, but also how wonderful.

In December of last year one of Audrey Hepburn’s dresses (valued at £70,000) fetched £467,200 at Christie’s auction in London. That in itself is mind-boggling. My first (ridiculous) thought when I saw the photo was “It hasn’t even got any sleeves.” As if sleeves would have made it plausible.

The proceeds have gone to the City Of Joy Aid charity, to be used for education facilities in Bangladesh. The first school was set up last month.

A school in return for a piece of plain black cloth. Yes.

No, it’s more amazing than that. This is one of fifteen schools to be built with the proceeds.

The dress was donated by the designer, Hubert de Givenchy, to the founder of the charity, French author Dominique Lapierre. Lapierre said:

“I am absolutely dumbfounded to believe that a piece of cloth which belonged to such a magical actress will now enable me to buy bricks and cement to put the most destitute children in the world into schools.”

Indeed. The more I think of this story the more unreal it seems. The motto on the charity’s website is an Indian proverb: “All that is not given is lost.” The more I think of that the more true it seems.

Audrey Hepburn would be glad, I’m sure. Despite her glamorous appeal, her own life was not all powder puffs and champagne flutes. Whilst on a childhood holiday in Arnhem, Holland, the city fell under wartime occupation. Audrey suffered and witnessed great hardships that stayed with her forever, and she spent much of her later life working with UNICEF.

You can read about Audrey Hepburn’s inspiring work at AudreyHepburn.com, and even watch video clips of her charity speeches. On the other hand, you can watch a clip of the bizarre bidding at Christie’s and read more about the beneficent piece of black material at BBC.co.uk.

Photo: Bud Fraker/Paramount Pictures Circa 1956 from AudreyHepburn.com

Ostensibly this film is a glimpse of difficult times in recent Chinese political history, highlighting the perceived value of knowledge and learning, and illustrating the bonds of family love. It is a poignant reminder of fading noble values—values in danger of being lost to a world of mass-production and a society of short-termism.

A businessman returns to his family home when he hears his father has died. His mother wants to observe ancient traditional funeral rites that seem unnecessarily arduous to the son. The mother is undeterred, carrying the strength of her happy memories, and strengthened further by her own life’s struggles. This conflict of ancient and modern values sets the scene.

Like its characters it is honest and humble, revealing through its openness a formidable power. As only director Zhang Yimou (Hero, House Of Flying Daggers) knows how, “The Road Home” is formed of many subtle levels. As many layers of laquer, each aspect adds integrity and depth while preserving its clarity and lightness.

Visually it is exquisite, stretching straightforward photography to its limits - a refreshing break from our computer-generated age. In a reverse of the traditional, present day scenes are shot in (very stylish) monochrome, and memories in colour, reinforcing the ageing mother’s feeling that the present is harder and less beautiful than the past. As is customary for Zhang Yimou the use of colour is deliberate, precise and symbolic, always lavish but never gluttonous.

The star of the show is unquestionably Ziyi Zhang (Hero, House Of Flying Daggers, Memoirs Of A Geisha). This being one of her earlier films, her elfin innocence is even more apparent than in her later swashbuckling adventures, concealing as always behind her winsome smile a steely grit and unwavering determination.

The acting is superb throughout, making one loath to leave the screen to read the subtitles. The characters have such an endearing natural air it seems really like eavesdropping to listen to them, and almost rude to enter their homes to observe their tribulations.

The political climate is implied rather than expressed, woven into the landscape and lives of the characters. The plot is simple but brave, dealing with death, with the fragility of human relationships, and also with their unbreakable bond beyond death. It frames human insecurity as well as superhuman transcendence of the self.

This film warms the heart and opens the eyes. Zhang Yimou gives us a firm nudge to reassess our values and priorities in life. He does it neatly and without excessive emotion… but make sure you have a handkerchief close by.

You can find out more here.