Showing posts with label Think Different. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Think Different. Show all posts

Sunday, June 2, 2013

In Search of Perfection

'Murder in the Cathedral' by TS Eliot has several beautiful lines on different aspects of sainthood and destiny. I summarise one of them on saints from memory since I studied this 20 years ago as part of curriculum and am unable to get hold of the book to quote verbatim.

Saints are men who are condemned during their lifetimes;  worshiped after their death; criticised after a few decades; and then completely forgotten.

During that time, for the first time (as I entered the wide world from the smaller one of school), I heard Mahatma Gandhi being criticised (by another lecturer) and these lines struck me as very apt. And I wondered about our deep desire to find perfection in human beings even when we know we are made of malleable clay, changing our shape and colour with the times. But somehow, rules seem to change when we examine others' actions and thoughts.

In recent times, there has been similar mud slinging on Mother Teresa and again the question arises - why?

The question to be asked is, why do we raise people on pedestals in the first place? Why do we need gods and saints, only to tear them to bits and throw them in the dustbin later?

Do we forget who we are, what we are capable of and how limited we are? Do we forget how under stress our own behaviour can change; with maturity, our thoughts ripen; with  circumstances, our emotions transform?

We seek heroes, and then we seek heroes who will be relevant at all times; if the contexts change, their greatness should somehow still be appropriate; but god forbid if they say or do something relevant to context but making them seem like turncoats!

A tall order indeed, but we go through this cycle again and again.

Though not a cricket fan, with so much being thrust on our faces thanks to the IPL scam - to me IPL itself seemed a scam - I see heroes (not saints by any stretch of imagination) again taking a beating - for not speaking, for not saying enough, for not saying the right things...

Why do we forget what and who made them heroes first?

This post is not in defense of those players. But I think, if we pause, we will know that the images of greatness are built in our mind - encouraged by the 'great' people themselves because they were at the right place at the right time saying and doing the right things. Let's leave them there, give them credit for what they did right, and be aware that they can be wrong.

The stress, in my humble opinion, should be on developing our own ability to judge and be detached so that their fall does not bring us tumbling down too. Inspiration and guidance can come from anywhere. Let's be grateful for that and take only the good.

And let's always remember, they are humans too.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Can Age Wither Passion?

At around 4 every evening, as I settle down with my cup of tea, the sound of mrdngam being played drifts through the window to my left, setting a mellow mood in the golden evening light.

The player - a neighbour aged somewhere between 83 and 87.

He walks diligently every evening, stopping to catch his breath in between. He does not carry a stick for support, and sometimes has a bag of vegetables he has bought from the shop outside. He carefully makes his way between boys playing aggressive football in the complex, random cars and younger children running hither and thither.

Every time I greet him, I have to introduce myself - not because he cannot remember people or things, but because his vision is hazy despite the thick glasses he wears. And every time he will apologise to me for not recognising me instantly - at his age, he needn't care.

So yesterday I stopped by and expressed my appreciation for the pleasant aura his mrdngam creates in the evening and the diligence with which he practices the instrument.

He told me the story of his love for this instrument that made me stop in wonder.

He had initially learnt mrdngam when he was 10 for a few years from a leading guru. Then because of work he had to give it up. At the age of 62, he decided to revive his passion and approached Music Academy. He found a guru, another leading mrdngam vidwan. Then, when he was in his 70s, he started a school so that young boys maybe initiated in this art. But there were many dropouts, because boys nowadays want to learn the drums, the banjo or keyboard. It hurts him even to say this.

It was with great effort I restrained myself to ask him to do something similar in our complex. He is eighty plus, and I need him to initiate my son into an instrument that elevates me always when I am dancing?

He stunned me again when he said, "When I see the meditation hall here, I want to bring a guru for the boys in this building." My jaw dropped. But still I held my tongue - for my son doesn't seem too keen on the gentler arts, preferring sports. Seeing a cricket bat in my hand he asked, "You were playing cricket?"

"No, this is my son's. He is seven years old."

"I shall enlist him also when we start the class."

Does passion wane with age? I bowed to him mentally.

And, oh, he explained to me why he can't recognise me. "Your hairstyle keeps changing, so I tend to get confused. Please don't mistake me."

This time, I was truly speechless.




Sunday, November 4, 2012

If you had another chance

So God asked man: "You can see what your science, technology and progress can do. I gave you Garden of Eden, and you have turned it into Hell's Inferno... If I gave you another chance, would you do things differently?"

Man pondered. And in his mind's eye flashed the past - from the time he struggled against nature and its creation for survival to the time he learnt to master them, control them, destroy them and build as per his needs, for his growth, development, prosperity.

He thought of the struggles on the way, the wants, the deprivations, the desires.

Then he thought of the comforts of the modern life - the cushioned life, the ease of communication, transportation, and so many other 'ations'. With that there was the creation of nature in his own way, on his own terms - for pleasure, as a getaway from the monotony of life.

What's life without sacrifices, and those who sacrificed did so for a worthy cause - for the deserving few who knew how to enjoy.

This moment had been destined from the time fire was discovered, the wheel had been set in motion, and when he could beat his own drum across the woods...

He straightened, looked squarely in God's eyes and said, "No God, I don't think I would change anything..."

Friday, October 12, 2012

Repentance

"Oh! So you sin all you want and then just call out to Narayana and you can get away with it?" the dancers debated as we rehearsed for the dance drama on a Bhagavatam character Ajamila.

A learned Brahmin, he spots a prostitute with another man and loses all sense of balance. He leaves his family behind to dally with her and commits all sorts of sins to get the money to keep her and his insatiable need for pleasures. At 88, Yama decides to claim his life, and Ajamila calls out in fear to Narayana, his youngest son whom he loved dearly. That was enough to awaken Narayana, who sends his dootas to protect the one who called out to Him.

Realising the bountiful grace of Narayana, Ajamila turns his back to his sinful life, does penance and attains Lord's feet.

The question is valid. Doesn't it send wrong signals - sin as much as you can and then just seek forgiveness?

But here, I am reminded of a scene from Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. Farhan Akhtar says sorry to Hrithik Roshan and when the latter remains intractable, asks, "How many times do I have to say sorry?"

"Till it comes from your heart," Hrithik replies.

It is not about saying sorry, it is saying sorry from your heart. That is not easy, is it - to admit that we are wrong, that we regret and that we openly acknowledge our mistake?

And this is true of every relationship - even between god and man, for where is god if not in our own heart? And if we are not sincere, can we find that peace within ourselves when we know the truth behind that sorry?

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Dedication

Six students of western music - all Americans - from Miami University on an exchange programme to my children's school. What an exposure for the older children who are being taught music and creative writing by these youngsters! There is a festive air all around.

To give them a taste of our culture, they have been taught Tamil (!), dance and Morsingh!

It was lovely teaching them dance and to sing the song they are dancing for! Amazing how they try to execute the steps - though simplified, still difficult as it is classical Bharatnatyam - accurately. A couple of them pick it up in one shot, a couple take some time... But they go back and practice so that "the transitions" happen smoothly.

The greatest delight was when one of the boys got the opening neck and eye movement in one shot. That's when I thought boys should learn to dance too, as otherwise they were planning only for the girls in the group to learn to dance! And now, watching them practice, the organiser of this exchange programme also insists that all of them dance at an event to showcase all that they have learnt in 2 weeks, and all that they have taught as the children of the school will perform too.

Feel very satisfied. Keeping my fingers crossed.

Working with them just drove home the point firmly: One can achieve much - even learning to appreciate the classical art forms - with focus and dedication! I wonder if making everybody learn at least the basics is a good way to make the classical arts popular again in the land of its origin.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Power of Hands

My uncles and cousins would wake up and immediately look at their hands, saying a quick morning prayer.

And then, when in college, I read a novel. Magnificent Obsession. It was part of our course, and a pathetic love story was interwoven with a highly spiritual concept of giving in the fashion of left hand not knowing what the right is giving. The doctor who follows this principal finds that the more he gives and 'meditates' the better his surgeries turn out to be. It inspired me to focus my energies internally - without the element of giving, of course - and the first place I felt a strange sensation was my palms.

Then, after marriage I was introduced to reiki. It is all about channelising the universal energy through the hands, and yes, I can feel something like electricity pass through my palms when I do sit down and close my hands.

Of course, I had been told several times that keeping the palms on the eyes are very good during headaches, and I find that to be true too.

It looks like there are some truths that are common across cultures and situations. Though the manner in which it comes to us is different, the underlying faith is the same.

For, in the end, isn't that what any self-respecting human being believes? That their success and failures is in their hands? The man who can roll up his shirt and get his hands dirty will never go without a shirt?


Monday, May 28, 2012

High and Dry

Is this an indication of things to come? Chennai is short on petrol and diesel for the last two days. Had to push my bike home, though luckily it sputtered out only in the street corner and not some five kilometers away.

Walked in the sun for an appointment today, and was wondering at how the roads are still filled with private vehicles! Obviously some of the others were smarter and filled their petrol/diesel tanks to the full when the going was good while I was trying to still squeeze the best from reserve.

But as I walked down, I did wonder if we can take our vehicles for granted any more... and our gensets and invertors. The sun and the wind are with us to stay. Imagine the cars being discovered some several centuries from now in the parking spaces, buried under the earth's crust and research being done on what it could have been used for! Maybe a paper with an ad for a car will fly up and they will look and wonder and be amazed at how advanced we had been. Whereas, they would be languishing under the trees, near water sources that would have sprung up afresh and walk long distances, travelling only if needed.

Then they would say, "If they could, so can we," and the quest for the wonder machines would begin afresh and they would develop and advance and cut down trees and clear up spaces and make things that will make them rich and they will cut more trees to make more products so that they can spend those riches...

They will also become developed one day, and find an equivalent of black gold... and history will repeat itself.





Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Imitating the Waves

The moon was golden as it rose from the Bay of Bengal. The waves, green and blue and white, foaming as they touched the brown sand. The breeze blew pleasantly, neither cold not warm... Just perfect to soothe.

A small stage, two dancers, ready to show their mettle to a select guest of a leading IT company.

The guests were delayed, but the moon climbed, not waiting for anyone. The reflection in the waters danced and the sea rippled gently, not in a hurry either, but not resting either.

The lights came on, and a sitar player took the stage, mellifluously building the mood for a half hour of cultural showcasing.

Then came the two dancers, their costume pleats ballooning in the breeze like a sail.

There is nothing to match the joy of dancing in the open, on the seashore, under the sky, the moon and the stars... With the cosmos as the witness, a million stars for audience, do a handful of mortals matter?

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Another First - Time

Tamil blog was for a lark, to see if I could write, could refresh my knowledge of Tamil. It is a trial - for Tamil, to be caught between my mind and fingers, and sometimes be mangled.

But it opened a strange door for me - that of translation. Seeing my Tamil blog, a friend referred my name to someone looking for a translator from Tamil to English. And today, I received the copy of the book - The Story of a Seed, original by TJ Gnanavel, translated by me, and released on December 5.

It was a thrilling journey - to come closer to my mother tongue, to interpret the lines in a meaningful way in a foreign language that has become the second tongue, and also to read the story of the founding couple, their travails and how they overcame the challenges. It was a time to learn - Tamil as well as how to live life with a smile always. I had heard about Santhi and Duraismy, but while translating, I almost lived with them their high and low moments.

Now I am like the man-eater, having tasted blood, raring for more such opportunities.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

'Age of Seth' - So Aptly Named

I am one of those who diligently does not read the newspaper, does not watch news channels and does not have headlines updates from any of the newspapers. And so, if Suhel Seth is a well known name, then... I am not among his friends (no surprise there!)

When I was reading a review of his book Get on Top - oops, Get to the Top - by Mihir Sharma, I did laugh heartily at the man Suhel is. But, I wish he were really one of his kind! The poor fellow has stuck his neck out and written a book on what many silently continue to do. He, of course, is a man of many words. He believes in that and likes to be heard. So hardly surprising he should write about it.

He is not alone, though, is he? This is what people set store by: brand building, projecting oneself, of seen to be doing, of influence, of currying favors? Doesn't mediocrity win, with some support from money?

How do we change our own attitude to that? 

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Anubavangal: குசேலர் - சுதாà®®ா

Anubavangal: குசேலர் - சுதாà®®ா: சுதாà®®ாவின் மனைவி அவலை கட்டிக்கொடுக்கிà®±ாள் இந்த கதை கேட்டு/படித்து வளர்ந்திà®°ுக்கிà®±ேன். à®’à®°ு பிடி அவலைத்தின்à®± ஸ்à®°ீ கிà®°ுà®·்ணா, பதிலுக்கு தன் ...

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Anubavangal: Yanthiram

Anubavangal: Yanthiram: மனிதன் தன்னைப்போல வேலை செய்ய யந்திà®°à®™்கள் உருவாக்கப்போகிà®±ான் என்à®±ு சொல்லுà®®் பொà®´ுது, சிட்டி à®®ாதிà®°ி à®°ோபோவைத்தான் நினைத்துப்பாà®°்க்கிà®±ோà®®். ஆனால் ...

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Finding Heroes

All around me, I sense failing is the flavour of the season. - Or maybe, it has always been, but I am suddenly hearing about this a lot. About how failure is inevitable, and how people bounce back.

Yes, we must draw inspiration from those who met with failure but through sheer will power, creative thinking, will power, repackaging - whatever it took - came back.

When I stare at failure, I am encouraged with the words, "Look at that man/woman. She was like you, but now see where he/she is."

I laugh. My gloom increases. I can't help saying, "If that same man/woman had not managed to succeed finally, no one would even be talking about him/her!"

It is finally only the failures of the successful people that we talk of. Successful = popular, well known.

Even those who don't shine like stars in the firmament face failures. And then bounce back and lead their lives, successfully within their framework. But, they don't become popular. We fail to see inspiration in them. We still look beyond at the distant stars and talk only of how they used failure as a stepping stone.

Me? I think it is easier to admire people who are not page 3 material, but have still faced tragedies, slipped and fallen, got up and walked, or managed to steady themselves before they could fall. They have a steady course, give their children steady families, and maybe help shape them into future heroes. They themselves seem to lead an average life, but are still kings and queens of their homes and hearts. Their uniqueness is in the clarity the eyes reflect, the cheer the smile spreads, and the warmth they give as friends.

They are not kings but kingmakers.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

New Age God

As my friend narrated this story, I couldn't help laughing and wondering if this is how, in some age, stones came to be worshiped!

A few ladies in my building fasted on karva chauth and congregated in one of the houses to listen to the story that is narrated traditionally on this day. The lady of the house connected on skype with her mother in Delhi, who read out the "paatth". At the end of it, all the ladies in Chennai did a namaskar to the lady in Delhi via the net, physically bowing before the laptop.

My friend laughed and so did I. But I wondered if in some age, the stone was the medium of communication and so became consecrated. Maybe in a few years, when we lose power and the net, the future generations will still bow before the electronic devices which will be passed on from generation to generation because their elders did it!

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Following the Light

I was about to open the window after switching off the AC, when I noticed a bee hovering just outside. He was banging against the glass, desperately trying to get in. The light inside was immensely superior attraction over the darkness that covered the land behind him. His friends were probably asleep, or hovering over the queen bee, or doing whatever they normally do at that hour. But this one was the adventurous one, the ambitious one, or maybe, the terribly scared one. He wanted light. He wanted warmth. Though he had grown amidst nature, he found the artificial light attractive.

I kept him out, not opening the door. I tried to tell him this was a world of falsities. With one flick of the switch, the light will vanish. He had no friends here, only unfriendly hands that would try to squash it. He would be safe and warm wherever he was, with his friends, doing what he did best - collecting honey.

My pleas fell in deaf ears. Instead, he had questions to ask: If this is a life of falsities, what are you doing here? Aren't you a creature of nature too? How did you adapt? I will adapt too! Why should I be squashed? Couldn't we coexist?

His questions silenced me. I quietly switched the light off, hoping the night outside would look brighter than the dark room within.

I went to bed, pondering, wondering - what is right for one, why do we assume it is not right for another? Why sometimes it IS not right for another? Or is it that it is convenient to assume it is not right for another?


Thursday, October 6, 2011

Growing Up : Part III

When I reach out the top shelf to take out the box with Bournvita packet in it;
when I call up the grocers to place my order for the month;
when I make a snack that my children relish;
when their friend comes home and enjoys a dish I made;
when I decide it is time to throw the old shoe out;
when I wonder if I can wait a day more before taking the children to the doctor;
when I give advise because someone shared their problem with me;
when I explain a concept to my child;
when she hugs me out of the blue;
when he teases my hair and grins;
when my hubby consults me on a decision;
I wonder, when did I stop being the little girl;
turning to my parents, my siblings, my elders for advice;
when did I become the elder;
the adult someone turns to;
for the little girl peeps out still;
wanting assurance, guidance and mentoring.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Anubavangal: இதில் நான் யாà®°் - Which is me?

Anubavangal: இதில் நான் யாà®°் - Which is me?: பழுத்த பழம் ஒன்à®±ு மரத்தில் கண்டேன். கை துà®°ுதுà®°ுத்தது அதைப்பரிக்க நில் என்à®±ு à®’à®°ு குரல் தடுத்தது யாà®°் என்à®±ு திà®°ுà®®்பிப்பாà®°்த்தேன். நான்தான் என்...

Friday, September 9, 2011

Paranormal

Energy balls, ghost, spirits... they don't always feature in my conversations, but sometimes they are fascinating topics. There are people who vouch for their presence. My mother-in-law told me years ago that she can sense suddenly something crossing her, but it has never bothered her. Then last week, my sister-in-law said the same thing. A friend has mentioned that she can feel their presence sometimes.

The worst was when my maid suddenly mentioned a death that had happened in one of my neighbouring flats. "There was an old man in that house. He died. Sometimes when I enter that room, I can see him sitting out there."

Then they talked of the house below mine. "My daughter was working there when suddenly she fell on the floor and her eyes started moving up. I called out to her, but she answered in a different voice."

I swallowed. I neither believe nor disbelieve. But sometimes, too much of such conversation can have my imagination galloping. Seeing my face, my maid assured me, "No no. Your house is clean. No spirits here."

I herded the mother and daughter duo out. I was happier not thinking about the presence or absence of spirits in the house.


Saturday, September 3, 2011

Throwing Baby with the Bathwater

A year ago, when I was doing the book on Tiruvannamalai, I met weavers from Aarani, a place famous for silk. The chief weaver's wife proudly told us that her children were studying for engineering. Most of the next generation is now moving away from weaving. Who will carry the tradition forward, I asked. "Those who can't study, will," she said smiling.

I have heard of the Kanchipuram weavers struggling but never given it much thought.

In a recent interview with a leading textile shop owner, he mentioned a few things. The art of making Madurai sungudi is completely lost. "Earlier, women would do the tie and die during leisure time. But now, with TV taking up all that time, no one has the time to spend on this. Now what you find is only block prints."

He mentioned that the present day weavers could not produce very fine cotton weaves. Then he leaned forward and said confidentially, "Education for children is important. But in earlier days, the entire family would be involved in weaving. The children would learn from their fathers from a young age, helping them with small jobs then graduating to bigger ones. It was a way to build knowledge base and learn the nuances of the weaving skill. Today, that is getting lost."

It set me thinking. And then, another conversation with another weaver, and I am really wondering. This man has been weaving for the last 30 years. He says, "The government does not support weaving the way it does agriculture. As a result, we earn very less, and pay very high interest rates. We are unable to innovate or improve our equipment and techniques. People left this trade in the 90s and now don't want to come back because they earn better in the construction industries. Those who remained are those who know no other skills."

I remember another man I spoke to, who had pointed out that slums get created when local industries fail and people migrate to cities hoping to find livelihoods. Mr. Kughanathan of Geocare, who said this, has tried to identify local resources to provide alternative livelihoods in their own native villages.

My two bits on this. Basic education is important. But again, does one size fit all? Are all the engineers productively occupied today? Is it necessary to provide fodder to the engineering and professional colleges by making traditional industries look unattractive and old fashioned? If they are given access to the same facilities and standard of living, will they look out for other professions? Isn't dignity of labour to be valued? Isn't it important to make rural areas as attractive as the cities to live in?

Or, is it asking for too much? 

Friday, August 12, 2011

One Earth: Social Entrepreneurs

One Earth: Social Entrepreneurs: "They are highly educated, have worked in MNCs, and have a high earning capacity. Continuing in their professions would no doubt give them a ..."
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...