Though I decided I will blog about it, it slipped my mind this morning. But a speech I saw by Sri Narendra Modi on feeling pride in Indian technology and how idols and statues code some of them symbolically, reminded me of this.
Friday, March 17, 2017
Hidden Layers in Idols
Though I decided I will blog about it, it slipped my mind this morning. But a speech I saw by Sri Narendra Modi on feeling pride in Indian technology and how idols and statues code some of them symbolically, reminded me of this.
Monday, March 13, 2017
The Beginning is the End
Cosmos heaved. Every cell vibrated. And pulsated with a desire for a life of its own. To swim on its own, to move as it wished, where it willed, not to be trapped, not to be part of a whole but become a whole.
And it got its wish.
Fish... It swam, in a school, but still alone... Where it wanted, seeing, feeling, eating, on its own, sensing...
Sensing danger everywhere. Fear. Fear. Fear. Of not finding food. For it's life.
If only to live without this fear. To be strong. As the jaws closed on it, it's last wish was to be the predator and not the hunted.
A lion. Swimming without fear. Killing with impunity. Power. The king of the jungle. The world at its mercy. And yet, powerless against the tusks that bored, the horns that stabbed, age that withered.
To be stronger still. To be invincible. To conquer uncertainties.
The master hunter.
The master strategist.
The master destroyer.
The invincible.
Swimming. Flying. Climbing. Digging. Destroying everything on its path.
A big wave, and still it trembled. A strong gust of wind, and still it fell on its knees. A deafening thunder, and still it pleaded, "Please, help me, save me."
It wanted to be god - the creator, the preserver, the destroyer.
It did all that. And yet, it was created, it had to be preserved, it could be destroyed.
Not on its own. It could never become that which it wanted.
It cried, "Please let me become you." It begged.
Had it been dreaming all this while? Did it really happen?
The Cosmos heaved. It settled deeply and sighed in contentment.
And it got its wish.
Fish... It swam, in a school, but still alone... Where it wanted, seeing, feeling, eating, on its own, sensing...
Sensing danger everywhere. Fear. Fear. Fear. Of not finding food. For it's life.
If only to live without this fear. To be strong. As the jaws closed on it, it's last wish was to be the predator and not the hunted.
A lion. Swimming without fear. Killing with impunity. Power. The king of the jungle. The world at its mercy. And yet, powerless against the tusks that bored, the horns that stabbed, age that withered.
To be stronger still. To be invincible. To conquer uncertainties.
The master hunter.
The master strategist.
The master destroyer.
The invincible.
Swimming. Flying. Climbing. Digging. Destroying everything on its path.
A big wave, and still it trembled. A strong gust of wind, and still it fell on its knees. A deafening thunder, and still it pleaded, "Please, help me, save me."
It wanted to be god - the creator, the preserver, the destroyer.
It did all that. And yet, it was created, it had to be preserved, it could be destroyed.
Not on its own. It could never become that which it wanted.
It cried, "Please let me become you." It begged.
Had it been dreaming all this while? Did it really happen?
The Cosmos heaved. It settled deeply and sighed in contentment.
Friday, March 10, 2017
Well-Wellness
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| Men at work - de-silting the well, taking out the sludge, servicing our source of water |
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| It's not a pleasant job. I didn't realise someone was inside the well, to fill the bucket with the sludge. Unsung heroes |
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
The Invitation
Sangeetha stood behind the mike and matched the scale given by the orchestra. The music director waved his hand and the orchestra began. Getting her cue, Sangeetha closed her eyes and began singing, her concentration only on the tune, the beat and the pitch.
When the song ended, there was total silence - she was used to it. She opened her eyes, and the applause from the director and the other assistants began. She smiled a half smile, inclined her head and stepped out of the studio.
When the song ended, there was total silence - she was used to it. She opened her eyes, and the applause from the director and the other assistants began. She smiled a half smile, inclined her head and stepped out of the studio.
Monday, March 6, 2017
A Friend In-Debt
Madhumita saw the caller's name - Leela. Her best friend, her childhood friend. And yet... she felt her heart tightening at the prospect of speaking to her. Reluctantly, she took the call. "Hi Leela, how are you?"
"Good. I have been wanting to talk to you for so long. But you never call!" Leela grumbled.
"I was planning to..."
"Busy, always busy. I don't know with what!?" Leela complained tersely.
Madhu rolled her eyes and said softly, "You know how it is. My work, yoga in the evening, managing the house..."
"And your treatment!!!" Leela added before Madhu could complete. Madhu was stunned and kept quiet. "Yes, you didn't tell me, but your mother did... I am going to take you to the best gynec there..."
"No, really!" Madhu tried to discourage her but Leela wouldn't listen. "If you were in Delhi, I would know whom to go to. But I have found a very highly recommended fertility expert. I am coming with Rashmi next week and take you to him..." Rashmi was Leela's one year old daughter.
"Really, Leela, there is no need. I am going to a good doctor and that's fine."
"Yes, but not the best!" Leela said without any room for negotiation.
Madhu rolled her eyes, resenting this intrusion. Samarth and she had been trying for a baby for the last two years without success. She was already stressed, and now she didn't want Leela complicating her life. But would that girl understand and respect her wish?
Leela was the daughter of an industrialist, Bhaskar, in whose company Madhu's father Jaidev worked. When the company went through difficult times, Leela was not even aware. Her father would not let her daughter be denied any luxury - be it the expensive schooling she received, expensive gifts or toys... Jaidev was forced to do so, though.
"What! You get to change your school! How cool is that!" had been Leela's remarkable reaction. "Dad, I want to change schools too! Make new friends! I will be stuck to this place forever otherwise!!!" Her father obliged immediately and she was enrolled in the school with Madhu. But within a month, she couldn't stand the very bourgeois crowd. "I want to go back," she screamed and brought the roof down. "I want Madhu also to come back..." she insisted once she was returned to the fold. Bhaskar obliged, stretching his already stretched means and funding Madhu's education too. Jaidev felt obliged to Bhaskar forever. But what about Madhu?
"She would have died of boredom in that school! Oh my god! Imagine, with none of us to keep her company!!!" Leela held public discourses for close to a year. Madhu felt her gratitude turning sour and wished she could return to that very bourgeois school, if only to escape Leela's boasting.
When Samarth joined the next year - they were in X at that time - Madhu did feel the gratitude return. Samarth was shy, quiet, and bullied by the other boys. Madhu tried defending him, but realised that it was harming him more for being defended by a girl. That angered him and he avoided her. Miserable, Madhu kept to her work and friends. She was both gratified and disappointed to see him become one of the most popular boys in the class because he was good at sports and in academics.
Leela complained, "Samarth seems interested only in girls who are into sports. You are so lucky that you play volleyball well! Coach me in the game," she demanded.
Any other reason, Madhu would have obliged. But to win over Samarth? Not at all! "You need a proper coach," she dismissed her friend, and was horrified to see her get one.
"But I can't play alone with the coach. At least in the initial days, Madhu has to be there... In fact, the entire volleyball team from my class can get trained by this coach," Leela insisted. Madhu couldn't help but notice that Leela had cunningly made Samarth also a part of her training team.
Now she was in a dilemma about whether to go or not. Her father made it easy for her. "I don't think you should be going for this," he ordered.
"I will," she rebelled and went.
"I knew, darling, that you will come. It is a great opportunity that you couldn't have afforded," Leela welcomed her with open arms and a barbed tongue. Madhu wanted to walk away, but feared her father taunting her about this for the rest of her life. And so she stuck around.
The coach had not expected much from this mixed group, and was stunned to see how well some of them played. He identified three boys and two girls, Madhu and Samarth included, for playing in the under-19, inter club competition. "What a lucky break!" Leela congratulated. "Good thing you came today!" Yes, she cheered the people who were selected and gave an elaborate party since she felt somehow it was she who was responsible for this good break.
Samarth indeed found himself bound to Leela, whom he thought was his Lady Luck. Madhu watched them jealously, but decided he was not worth crying over if this is what it took to win his attention. She could never match it anyway. Still, the heart will play by its own rules, and it did cry.
Because of their good academic performance, passing in the entrance with flying colours as well as their sports achievements, Samarth and Madhu got admission in the best engineering college. Leela, despite all the tantrum she threw and the money power, could not get it in the same college. She went to the best that money could buy, probably better than theirs, but was unhappy. "Madhu, my father will sponsor you. You join my college," she told her friend confidently.
"No thanks, I am doing what I want, here," Madhu dissuaded her firmly.
As Leela watched Madhu and Samarth becoming closer and closer, she made sure Madhu remembered her indebtedness more and more.
"Samarth and I are just friends," Madhu tried to assure her more than once. For Samarth still held a candle for Leela. But Leela, used to undivided attention, was alarmed by the strong bond these two shared. "That's because we have a lot in common, Leela," Madhu reasoned. She herself wished for the relationship to move to the next level, but was disappointed at how steadfast Samarth was towards Leela. It was even hard to bitch about her to him when she was annoyed. "She is insecure, that's all," he said with characteristic generosity.
Leela was the happiest when Samarth moved to a different city to work. And very upset when she came to know that Madhu and he kept in touch. But he knew how to handle her too. "Madhu is forever grateful to you for your timely help... Don't spoil it by being mean to her..."
"No, I won't be... He is right," Leela assured Madhu when showing her the message. "Isn't he just wonderful? I am so glad he and I are a couple. Both of us have your interest in our hearts," she said. Madhu inwardly rolled her eyes and decided to snap all ties. One was bad enough, two would be unbearable. She wanted Samarth's love, not his pity.
She left his messages unanswered. She didn't call or return his calls. When he stood in front of her in her office one afternoon, she thought she was hallucinating.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded without preliminaries.
"I haven't come for an interview and I don't know anyone else here... Then it must be to meet you!"
She got up and guided him to the canteen. "I didn't know you were coming."
"You would have had you seen my messages."
She mechanically looked at her phone. 223 unread messages from him in the last six months.
"Something happened and you just shut up. Now, I respect that. But I think I deserve to know what it is."
She felt tired. "There was nothing. Just projects and deadlines... And I am preparing for MBA."
"Story of my life. So why is it easy for me to send you a message a day but not for you to respond?"
"I don't know," she said and got up. He grasped her hand. "Madhu, don't leave me hanging like this! It was hard for me to take this break, but I have come to see you."
She jerked her hand free and laughed wryly. "Really? What does Leela have to say about it?"
"About what?"
"About your coming to meet me?"
He was silent, unable to answer. "Oh, by the way, thank you for giving me a character certificate to remain in her good books. I can't tell you how indebted I am to the two of you for keeping my best interests at heart."
He took a deep breath and got up. "I see..." And he was off, just like that...
Leela stormed into her house that evening. "When Samarth and you are having a good time, Madhu, remember to thank me. I cannot hold what is not mine, but remember that if he is yours, it is because I am letting him go without a fight," she declared with angry tears flowing down her cheeks and left immediately after, leaving a speechless Madhu behind.
But Samarth did not contact her, let alone propose. Leela remained cut off. Had Leela exaggerated a lover's quarrel and raised false hopes? Were they reconciled? Madhu couldn't focus on work or her preparations.
Finally, unable to stand the suspense, she messaged Samarth, "Sorry. I was upset."
No reply, just as she deserved, expected and feared.
When he stood again in front of her the next week, she started crying unmindful of her colleagues who shared her bay. Well... All is well that ends well. They married three years later, and had been married now for three years. "You have only me to thank," Leela said when Madhu handed her the invitation personally.
Madhu leaned forward and hugged her. "Yes Leela, I have only you to thank for my education, my sports, my husband... Every thing that matters to me is because of you"
"Don't be in a hurry to thank me! I am sure we are not done yet," Leela said, not without irony. Madhu laughed, glad that she did not begin her married life with the burden of Leela's ill will.
Of course, that feeling did not last. Many of their common friends knew about Samarth and Leela's long courtship. Leela was not above letting go of the opportunity. "I couldn't stand in her way, could I, when she seemed so deeply in love with him?" By the end of the wedding ceremonies, Madhu was totally fed up and didn't think she would look back to her wedding day with any special fondness. It was Samarth's good humour that had seen her through the day!
And now, this stress about not being able to conceive... Madhu sometimes wondered whether her childlessness was because of Leela, who herself had married and delivered a child within a year. Madhu dismissed those thoughts as mean and superstitious, but it recurred often.
She had not been keen on keeping in touch with Leela. And though Leela promised never to call again since Madhu herself never initiated a conversation, she couldn't seem to keep her promise! And now this trip! Madhu couldn't even wish for Leela's plan to fail! She just wished the trip would get cancelled.
She welcomed Leela and Rashmi with a warm smile when they came the week after. The next few days, Leela made sure that the purpose of her visit was not neglected. She fixed an appointment with the famous doctor, arranged for the treatment and was by Madhu's side, sometimes leaving Rashmi with Samarth.
Nothing helped, though. Madhu's body continued to reject any attempts at impregnation. Added to that, her failure in front of Leela humiliated her deeply. "Please leave, Leela... Whatever will be, will be," she told her friend in various tones, only to be met by stubborn refusal.
Leela's husband Guru joined them at the end of two months. When Leela talked of coming back in six months again, Madhu erupted angrily, "Just leave me alone, will you?"
"Yes, for now," Leela replied calmly. "But... I will be back," she said dramatically.
When they left that morning to catch the flight, Madhu leaned on Samarth and cried. "Madhu, I don't know why you torture yourself like this. I told you, I am fine even if we don' have children..."
"But I am not," Madhu retorted.
"Let's adopt..."
"Please Sam... Let's not talk about it right now..."
The phone rang. "Madam, there's been an accident..."
The car Leela and her family had been traveling in had met with an accident. Madhu and Samarth rushed to the government hospital to claim the bodies of Guru and Leela, who had died instantly. They traced Rashmi in the nearby police station. The child had had a miraculous escape, cushioned by her mother's body, and sat crying amidst strangers who were trying their best to placate her.
Seeing Samarth, the child toddled forward on unsteady legs and clung to him as they rushed about to complete the formalities.
Bhaskar - Leela's father, now an old man in his 60s - and Guru's father came down for taking the body with them to Delhi. Rashmi seemed to have forgotten her grandparents in the last two months of being away and wouldn't let go of Samarth. Madhu tried to prise the child's fingers free, but realised that Samarth too was reluctant to let go.
Bhaskar placed a gentle hand on Madhu and said softly, "We are old people and may not be able to take care for Rashmi well. Rashmi seems to have taken to you both well... Leela too would have wanted you to bring her child up..."
He looked at Guru's father, who nodded with tears in his eyes.
Madhu's eyes welled up. This time, she could not even say thank you to her friend. She would have preferred Leela tom-tomming her generosity yet again. The silence was deafening.
"Good. I have been wanting to talk to you for so long. But you never call!" Leela grumbled.
"I was planning to..."
"Busy, always busy. I don't know with what!?" Leela complained tersely.
Madhu rolled her eyes and said softly, "You know how it is. My work, yoga in the evening, managing the house..."
"And your treatment!!!" Leela added before Madhu could complete. Madhu was stunned and kept quiet. "Yes, you didn't tell me, but your mother did... I am going to take you to the best gynec there..."
"No, really!" Madhu tried to discourage her but Leela wouldn't listen. "If you were in Delhi, I would know whom to go to. But I have found a very highly recommended fertility expert. I am coming with Rashmi next week and take you to him..." Rashmi was Leela's one year old daughter.
"Really, Leela, there is no need. I am going to a good doctor and that's fine."
"Yes, but not the best!" Leela said without any room for negotiation.
Madhu rolled her eyes, resenting this intrusion. Samarth and she had been trying for a baby for the last two years without success. She was already stressed, and now she didn't want Leela complicating her life. But would that girl understand and respect her wish?
Leela was the daughter of an industrialist, Bhaskar, in whose company Madhu's father Jaidev worked. When the company went through difficult times, Leela was not even aware. Her father would not let her daughter be denied any luxury - be it the expensive schooling she received, expensive gifts or toys... Jaidev was forced to do so, though.
"What! You get to change your school! How cool is that!" had been Leela's remarkable reaction. "Dad, I want to change schools too! Make new friends! I will be stuck to this place forever otherwise!!!" Her father obliged immediately and she was enrolled in the school with Madhu. But within a month, she couldn't stand the very bourgeois crowd. "I want to go back," she screamed and brought the roof down. "I want Madhu also to come back..." she insisted once she was returned to the fold. Bhaskar obliged, stretching his already stretched means and funding Madhu's education too. Jaidev felt obliged to Bhaskar forever. But what about Madhu?
"She would have died of boredom in that school! Oh my god! Imagine, with none of us to keep her company!!!" Leela held public discourses for close to a year. Madhu felt her gratitude turning sour and wished she could return to that very bourgeois school, if only to escape Leela's boasting.
When Samarth joined the next year - they were in X at that time - Madhu did feel the gratitude return. Samarth was shy, quiet, and bullied by the other boys. Madhu tried defending him, but realised that it was harming him more for being defended by a girl. That angered him and he avoided her. Miserable, Madhu kept to her work and friends. She was both gratified and disappointed to see him become one of the most popular boys in the class because he was good at sports and in academics.
Leela complained, "Samarth seems interested only in girls who are into sports. You are so lucky that you play volleyball well! Coach me in the game," she demanded.
Any other reason, Madhu would have obliged. But to win over Samarth? Not at all! "You need a proper coach," she dismissed her friend, and was horrified to see her get one.
"But I can't play alone with the coach. At least in the initial days, Madhu has to be there... In fact, the entire volleyball team from my class can get trained by this coach," Leela insisted. Madhu couldn't help but notice that Leela had cunningly made Samarth also a part of her training team.
Now she was in a dilemma about whether to go or not. Her father made it easy for her. "I don't think you should be going for this," he ordered.
"I will," she rebelled and went.
"I knew, darling, that you will come. It is a great opportunity that you couldn't have afforded," Leela welcomed her with open arms and a barbed tongue. Madhu wanted to walk away, but feared her father taunting her about this for the rest of her life. And so she stuck around.
The coach had not expected much from this mixed group, and was stunned to see how well some of them played. He identified three boys and two girls, Madhu and Samarth included, for playing in the under-19, inter club competition. "What a lucky break!" Leela congratulated. "Good thing you came today!" Yes, she cheered the people who were selected and gave an elaborate party since she felt somehow it was she who was responsible for this good break.
Samarth indeed found himself bound to Leela, whom he thought was his Lady Luck. Madhu watched them jealously, but decided he was not worth crying over if this is what it took to win his attention. She could never match it anyway. Still, the heart will play by its own rules, and it did cry.
Because of their good academic performance, passing in the entrance with flying colours as well as their sports achievements, Samarth and Madhu got admission in the best engineering college. Leela, despite all the tantrum she threw and the money power, could not get it in the same college. She went to the best that money could buy, probably better than theirs, but was unhappy. "Madhu, my father will sponsor you. You join my college," she told her friend confidently.
"No thanks, I am doing what I want, here," Madhu dissuaded her firmly.
As Leela watched Madhu and Samarth becoming closer and closer, she made sure Madhu remembered her indebtedness more and more.
"Samarth and I are just friends," Madhu tried to assure her more than once. For Samarth still held a candle for Leela. But Leela, used to undivided attention, was alarmed by the strong bond these two shared. "That's because we have a lot in common, Leela," Madhu reasoned. She herself wished for the relationship to move to the next level, but was disappointed at how steadfast Samarth was towards Leela. It was even hard to bitch about her to him when she was annoyed. "She is insecure, that's all," he said with characteristic generosity.
Leela was the happiest when Samarth moved to a different city to work. And very upset when she came to know that Madhu and he kept in touch. But he knew how to handle her too. "Madhu is forever grateful to you for your timely help... Don't spoil it by being mean to her..."
"No, I won't be... He is right," Leela assured Madhu when showing her the message. "Isn't he just wonderful? I am so glad he and I are a couple. Both of us have your interest in our hearts," she said. Madhu inwardly rolled her eyes and decided to snap all ties. One was bad enough, two would be unbearable. She wanted Samarth's love, not his pity.
She left his messages unanswered. She didn't call or return his calls. When he stood in front of her in her office one afternoon, she thought she was hallucinating.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded without preliminaries.
"I haven't come for an interview and I don't know anyone else here... Then it must be to meet you!"
She got up and guided him to the canteen. "I didn't know you were coming."
"You would have had you seen my messages."
She mechanically looked at her phone. 223 unread messages from him in the last six months.
"Something happened and you just shut up. Now, I respect that. But I think I deserve to know what it is."
She felt tired. "There was nothing. Just projects and deadlines... And I am preparing for MBA."
"Story of my life. So why is it easy for me to send you a message a day but not for you to respond?"
"I don't know," she said and got up. He grasped her hand. "Madhu, don't leave me hanging like this! It was hard for me to take this break, but I have come to see you."
She jerked her hand free and laughed wryly. "Really? What does Leela have to say about it?"
"About what?"
"About your coming to meet me?"
He was silent, unable to answer. "Oh, by the way, thank you for giving me a character certificate to remain in her good books. I can't tell you how indebted I am to the two of you for keeping my best interests at heart."
He took a deep breath and got up. "I see..." And he was off, just like that...
Leela stormed into her house that evening. "When Samarth and you are having a good time, Madhu, remember to thank me. I cannot hold what is not mine, but remember that if he is yours, it is because I am letting him go without a fight," she declared with angry tears flowing down her cheeks and left immediately after, leaving a speechless Madhu behind.
But Samarth did not contact her, let alone propose. Leela remained cut off. Had Leela exaggerated a lover's quarrel and raised false hopes? Were they reconciled? Madhu couldn't focus on work or her preparations.
Finally, unable to stand the suspense, she messaged Samarth, "Sorry. I was upset."
No reply, just as she deserved, expected and feared.
When he stood again in front of her the next week, she started crying unmindful of her colleagues who shared her bay. Well... All is well that ends well. They married three years later, and had been married now for three years. "You have only me to thank," Leela said when Madhu handed her the invitation personally.
Madhu leaned forward and hugged her. "Yes Leela, I have only you to thank for my education, my sports, my husband... Every thing that matters to me is because of you"
"Don't be in a hurry to thank me! I am sure we are not done yet," Leela said, not without irony. Madhu laughed, glad that she did not begin her married life with the burden of Leela's ill will.
Of course, that feeling did not last. Many of their common friends knew about Samarth and Leela's long courtship. Leela was not above letting go of the opportunity. "I couldn't stand in her way, could I, when she seemed so deeply in love with him?" By the end of the wedding ceremonies, Madhu was totally fed up and didn't think she would look back to her wedding day with any special fondness. It was Samarth's good humour that had seen her through the day!
And now, this stress about not being able to conceive... Madhu sometimes wondered whether her childlessness was because of Leela, who herself had married and delivered a child within a year. Madhu dismissed those thoughts as mean and superstitious, but it recurred often.
She had not been keen on keeping in touch with Leela. And though Leela promised never to call again since Madhu herself never initiated a conversation, she couldn't seem to keep her promise! And now this trip! Madhu couldn't even wish for Leela's plan to fail! She just wished the trip would get cancelled.
She welcomed Leela and Rashmi with a warm smile when they came the week after. The next few days, Leela made sure that the purpose of her visit was not neglected. She fixed an appointment with the famous doctor, arranged for the treatment and was by Madhu's side, sometimes leaving Rashmi with Samarth.
Nothing helped, though. Madhu's body continued to reject any attempts at impregnation. Added to that, her failure in front of Leela humiliated her deeply. "Please leave, Leela... Whatever will be, will be," she told her friend in various tones, only to be met by stubborn refusal.
Leela's husband Guru joined them at the end of two months. When Leela talked of coming back in six months again, Madhu erupted angrily, "Just leave me alone, will you?"
"Yes, for now," Leela replied calmly. "But... I will be back," she said dramatically.
When they left that morning to catch the flight, Madhu leaned on Samarth and cried. "Madhu, I don't know why you torture yourself like this. I told you, I am fine even if we don' have children..."
"But I am not," Madhu retorted.
"Let's adopt..."
"Please Sam... Let's not talk about it right now..."
The phone rang. "Madam, there's been an accident..."
The car Leela and her family had been traveling in had met with an accident. Madhu and Samarth rushed to the government hospital to claim the bodies of Guru and Leela, who had died instantly. They traced Rashmi in the nearby police station. The child had had a miraculous escape, cushioned by her mother's body, and sat crying amidst strangers who were trying their best to placate her.
Seeing Samarth, the child toddled forward on unsteady legs and clung to him as they rushed about to complete the formalities.
Bhaskar - Leela's father, now an old man in his 60s - and Guru's father came down for taking the body with them to Delhi. Rashmi seemed to have forgotten her grandparents in the last two months of being away and wouldn't let go of Samarth. Madhu tried to prise the child's fingers free, but realised that Samarth too was reluctant to let go.
Bhaskar placed a gentle hand on Madhu and said softly, "We are old people and may not be able to take care for Rashmi well. Rashmi seems to have taken to you both well... Leela too would have wanted you to bring her child up..."
He looked at Guru's father, who nodded with tears in his eyes.
Madhu's eyes welled up. This time, she could not even say thank you to her friend. She would have preferred Leela tom-tomming her generosity yet again. The silence was deafening.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
Thursday, March 2, 2017
One Earth: Two Steps Towards Green
One Earth: Two Steps Towards Green: When driving my children back from school, I would watch the children from government schools walk back, chatting, playing, enjoying the...
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
Democracy Hijacked
By, of, for the people, they said
But the people's protest went unheard
They played the numbers game
And the calculations were not the same
Between devil and the deep sea
Sold easily, and that too cheap!
Betrayed, and not even by someone trusted
Held for ransom, the entire state protested
Rules and laws too turned traitors
Making the turncoats legislators
The hated gang seems to be smiling
Despite their well laid plans failing
Rival families must be celebrating
While pretenses they are good at keeping
What, oh, of the man on the street
Wailing today for his own misdeeds!
What you sow, you reap
Hope you see the lesson it has to teach.
Democracy hijacked by kings and princes
Even nephews and niece get to eat the pieces
What shape will this drama take?
How will this unravel, what is at stake?
From chaos emerges clarity, they say
Will the dark nights bring a brighter day?
But the people's protest went unheard
They played the numbers game
And the calculations were not the same
Between devil and the deep sea
Sold easily, and that too cheap!
Betrayed, and not even by someone trusted
Held for ransom, the entire state protested
Rules and laws too turned traitors
Making the turncoats legislators
The hated gang seems to be smiling
Despite their well laid plans failing
Rival families must be celebrating
While pretenses they are good at keeping
What, oh, of the man on the street
Wailing today for his own misdeeds!
What you sow, you reap
Hope you see the lesson it has to teach.
Democracy hijacked by kings and princes
Even nephews and niece get to eat the pieces
What shape will this drama take?
How will this unravel, what is at stake?
From chaos emerges clarity, they say
Will the dark nights bring a brighter day?
Wednesday, February 8, 2017
Autum
I sat in the veranda with my tea, watching the leaves falling from the trees. I sighed, feeling much like the loose, dry leaf. I felt one with the tree with the bare branches.
Sapped of youth, separated from my roots, I seemed to be waiting for time to destroy me, for earth to consume me, for fire to burn me, for winds to blow me away, for water to wash me...
"Naani," a tender voice called out to me.
I paused, wanting to indulge my thoughts, my melancholy. But the voice had already tugged at my heartstrings and melancholy was giving way to a sort of reluctant joy that only a grandchild could evoke.
"I am here, beta," I called Advit to me. I heard his feet pattering as he ran out and threw his arms around me. My four-year-old grandson fitted the description of a cherubic angel. The curly rings falling on his forehead, the rosy, chubby cheeks... I scooped him in my arms and kissed him. "Chalo, let's get ready for school," I said and got up with him in my arms. My body swayed and I panicked. I sat back; luckily, both of us were safe.
Advit laughed. "Again, naani," he said, thinking it was a game.
I put him down gently and said, "And miss school?"
I took him into the house. My son-in-law Brajesh was in the kitchen, making coffee while daughter Neetu rushed around, getting the day organised. Advit dutifully hugged them and then came back to me to get ready for school. The usual tantrums, the running around the house, the cajoling, the coaxing, the shouting...
When Brajesh went to drop Advit to school, it was like the calm before the next storm began in the afternoon.
I sat on the dining chair and Neetu served breakfast. "You indulge him too much," she complained as usual. "You were never this lenient when we were growing up!"
I chuckled. The best way to deal with this.
"You make it difficult for me to discipline him," she went on, with her mouth full.
"I didn't succeed in disciplining you either," I joked. "Speaking while eating," I said with mock distaste and shook my head.
Neetu grimaced and I felt sorry for her. Where was the light-hearted girl that used to laugh at even the slightest joke and make me laugh too?
She whipped her phone out. "Papa? Happy birthday, papa," she said enthusiastically. Oh, I had forgotten it was my husband's birthday! "How are you? What happened? Did you go to the doctor? Does Sanjay bhayya know? Let me speak to him!" she plied him with questions. "Ya, mama is here." She handed me the phone with a displeased look.
"What happened?" I asked with concern, forgetting yet again to wish him. Seeing my daughter gesture, I said, "Happy birthday... haan, haan... What happened?"
"Nothing, just some back trouble... Was finding it difficult to move..." he tried to dismiss it lightly. But the fact that he had mentioned it and that his voice sounded tired were enough proof that he was suffering.
"Shall I come?" I asked. My daughter, who was clearing the table, stopped and her eyes widened.
"No, no, it's okay Sharada... Nothing serious," he said softly. "Just some balm... Shail's hands have magic. When he applies the balm, all pain vanishes," he said with quiet pride. Shail was our son Sanjay's 12 year old son.
Neetu mouthed something. Since I didn't understand, she said, "Ask papa to come here."
I got up, unable to contain the bubbling hope her suggestion had sparked. I relayed the suggestion, "Why don't you come here? It's...been a year..." My voice sounded hoarse... I blinked back tears and rushed to the veranda.
He sighed, just a hint of it. "Shail's exams are on and Renu needs to be at work... Someone needs to help Shail... Can't you get away for some time?" he asked, the question coming out very hesitantly, with just a hint of expectation.
"Neetu and Brajesh are going to be on tour this month..."
"Shail needs me... Will talk to you later," he said and disconnected.
I looked out the veranda. The ground looked deceptively rich with the fallen leaves, but the tree itself stood alone.
"Ma..." my daughter called out to me on her way out to work. "I will be late tonight. Brajesh has a dinner meeting... Don't let Advit wait up for us..."
I nodded and watched her go. I longed to be with my husband. But our children needed us.
The silence pressed against me. I wiped the tear that rolled down my cheek and busied myself to keep thoughts at bay.
Sapped of youth, separated from my roots, I seemed to be waiting for time to destroy me, for earth to consume me, for fire to burn me, for winds to blow me away, for water to wash me...
"Naani," a tender voice called out to me.
I paused, wanting to indulge my thoughts, my melancholy. But the voice had already tugged at my heartstrings and melancholy was giving way to a sort of reluctant joy that only a grandchild could evoke.
"I am here, beta," I called Advit to me. I heard his feet pattering as he ran out and threw his arms around me. My four-year-old grandson fitted the description of a cherubic angel. The curly rings falling on his forehead, the rosy, chubby cheeks... I scooped him in my arms and kissed him. "Chalo, let's get ready for school," I said and got up with him in my arms. My body swayed and I panicked. I sat back; luckily, both of us were safe.
Advit laughed. "Again, naani," he said, thinking it was a game.
I put him down gently and said, "And miss school?"
I took him into the house. My son-in-law Brajesh was in the kitchen, making coffee while daughter Neetu rushed around, getting the day organised. Advit dutifully hugged them and then came back to me to get ready for school. The usual tantrums, the running around the house, the cajoling, the coaxing, the shouting...
When Brajesh went to drop Advit to school, it was like the calm before the next storm began in the afternoon.
I sat on the dining chair and Neetu served breakfast. "You indulge him too much," she complained as usual. "You were never this lenient when we were growing up!"
I chuckled. The best way to deal with this.
"You make it difficult for me to discipline him," she went on, with her mouth full.
"I didn't succeed in disciplining you either," I joked. "Speaking while eating," I said with mock distaste and shook my head.
Neetu grimaced and I felt sorry for her. Where was the light-hearted girl that used to laugh at even the slightest joke and make me laugh too?
She whipped her phone out. "Papa? Happy birthday, papa," she said enthusiastically. Oh, I had forgotten it was my husband's birthday! "How are you? What happened? Did you go to the doctor? Does Sanjay bhayya know? Let me speak to him!" she plied him with questions. "Ya, mama is here." She handed me the phone with a displeased look.
"What happened?" I asked with concern, forgetting yet again to wish him. Seeing my daughter gesture, I said, "Happy birthday... haan, haan... What happened?"
"Nothing, just some back trouble... Was finding it difficult to move..." he tried to dismiss it lightly. But the fact that he had mentioned it and that his voice sounded tired were enough proof that he was suffering.
"Shall I come?" I asked. My daughter, who was clearing the table, stopped and her eyes widened.
"No, no, it's okay Sharada... Nothing serious," he said softly. "Just some balm... Shail's hands have magic. When he applies the balm, all pain vanishes," he said with quiet pride. Shail was our son Sanjay's 12 year old son.
Neetu mouthed something. Since I didn't understand, she said, "Ask papa to come here."
I got up, unable to contain the bubbling hope her suggestion had sparked. I relayed the suggestion, "Why don't you come here? It's...been a year..." My voice sounded hoarse... I blinked back tears and rushed to the veranda.
He sighed, just a hint of it. "Shail's exams are on and Renu needs to be at work... Someone needs to help Shail... Can't you get away for some time?" he asked, the question coming out very hesitantly, with just a hint of expectation.
"Neetu and Brajesh are going to be on tour this month..."
"Shail needs me... Will talk to you later," he said and disconnected.
I looked out the veranda. The ground looked deceptively rich with the fallen leaves, but the tree itself stood alone.
"Ma..." my daughter called out to me on her way out to work. "I will be late tonight. Brajesh has a dinner meeting... Don't let Advit wait up for us..."
I nodded and watched her go. I longed to be with my husband. But our children needed us.
The silence pressed against me. I wiped the tear that rolled down my cheek and busied myself to keep thoughts at bay.
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
Winning Without Running
"What happened?" I asked.
The school is gearing up for sports day this Saturday. "We had hurdles practice today and twice she toppled the hurdle. She felt bad that she was not contributing to her house's success... But she had crossed it the third time! I told her to focus on that."
"That's nice," I said encouragingly.
The PT sir does not take the girls seriously - this has been my sports-loving daughter's complaint for long. But she used that to her advantage. "I told her that PT sir has no expectations of her. So when she toppled it, it didn't bother him. But when she crossed it, he was so pleased! That made her think!"
I smiled, happy about her insight.
"I remembered what you told me when I was upset two years ago with my previous PT sir, and I told her the same things."
"Oh really?" I was piqued.
"In football, he used to keep the girls in the background and I would get frustrated. But you told me that I must be alert and take every chance to prove myself even there... I told my friend not to worry about what the PT sir or anyone thought. I gave her tips on how to improve her running and how to compete only with herself, bettering her performance every time."
She elaborated this some more. "I told her to remember how she was when she was younger. She has come second in running and hurdles! I gave her tips on how to improve her performance by setting targets for herself."
That night, my daughter dug out old sports day photos where she stood first and her friend second and sent it by whatsapp to her friend to encourage her further. Her friend posted her own progress that evening in the team sports coaching she goes for.
Meanwhile, my son, not to be outdone, told me, "My friend also used to be slow and asked me for tips. I made four of them improve their speeds by setting time for them and giving them tips."
The two started sharing details of the tips - some of which they have learnt in Karate and have practiced at home, motivating each other to improve their timing.
I was dazed as I sank into a self-congratulatory mode. But their conversation brought me back to reality. I sat up alert. "Hey, if you share all the tips with your friends, they are going to defeat you in the races!"
"That's okay, ma," they replied in unison. "They are our friends. We don't mind their winning."
I felt they had won even without running...
Thursday, January 26, 2017
The Point of Intersection
How many together? How many in different directions?
Different interests. Different goals. Different approaches. Sometimes, even different languages...
What is the meaning of this relationship that came half way into our lives?. If the paths differ, why force two people to walk together? How do you keep it together?
Should one abandon one's own path to walk down another's? Can one force the other to enjoy the same sights and journey as ourselves?
Can even love make two hearts beat as one at every turning?
Will the paths tear them asunder, or will the heart give way?
These thoughts cloud the mind, and seem to plunge it in darkness. You cry out for light and lo! The mist clears. Why! Though the paths differ, the pace differs, the destination is the same! Even when you let go of the hands, the gaze turns to the same point. Though the hearts sing to a different beat, the tune is the same. When the eyes meet, the same thoughts connect them.
And you smile in understanding. At each other. At yourself. For it is at these points of intersection that you find the true meaning of this relationship. It is then that you understand what the other means to you. It is then that you feel grateful.
You continue walking, taking 70000 more steps, 700,000... 700,000,000.
Friday, January 20, 2017
The Loyal Friend
I peeped out of the window, hoping to see the usual cars passing by. A figure entered the picture unexpectedly and attracted my attention. I grimaced at his very scrawny look. He looked here and there, and then, called out to his friends. He was suddenly surrounded by five or six, all looking like stragglers - unkempt and rustic. I dismissed them and loitered around the house, ready for my mid-morning nap.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Breaking Moulds, Aspiring for More
I recently received this forward:
In 'Three Idiots', Aamir Khan said we must allow children to pursue their dreams.
In 'Taare Zameen Par', he said children need not pursue any dreams.
In 'Dangal' he says, make your children fulfill your dreams.
How confusing.
In 'Three Idiots', Aamir Khan said we must allow children to pursue their dreams.
In 'Taare Zameen Par', he said children need not pursue any dreams.
In 'Dangal' he says, make your children fulfill your dreams.
How confusing.
Sunday, December 25, 2016
Man(un)kind
The horrible videos of the suffering of children in Aleppo makes one wonder about the perpetrators of such crimes. Whatever be the cause of the fight, is it so much more important than lives? Is it just the piece of land, or the politics or the fragile ego that is more important?
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Social Medi-ot
Morning, in the midst of the whirl
A message pops with a tone of twirl
I pause my work and to the phone I rush,
Fearing something exciting I will miss
A message pops with a tone of twirl
I pause my work and to the phone I rush,
Fearing something exciting I will miss
Friday, December 16, 2016
Thinking and Thinking
That moment between thinking and not thinking.
That moment between thinking and acting on that thinking.
That moment between thinking and acting on something without thinking.
That moment between thinking and acting on that thinking.
That moment between thinking and acting on something without thinking.
Sunday, December 11, 2016
Inching Up Step by Step
"I got A+ in English, and aunty said very good for one of my essays," my son said with a broad smile. My heart jumped with joy. In the previous exam, the first he was writing in his 9 years of schooling as the initial years were in Montessori, he had shocked me when he said, "They asked me to write what I want to be in 20 years. I wrote, cricketer. What ma, they gave 20 lines to write! What am I supposed to write for 20 lines?"
Monday, December 5, 2016
I Pray
 |
| Photo courtesy: Srikant Ranganathan |
For what?
The mortal body
That will leave us one day?
For health?
That will fail
As we slowly age?
For wealth?
Which we will leave
When our soul flies away?
Sunday, December 4, 2016
A Tough Match
She swung her racket and then paused in disappointment. She had missed. The silence was deafening, accusing her of failure.
It was coming at her again and she swung again. This time, the crackling sound as the mosquito hit the electric racket brought a smile to her face.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Innocent, Who?
I was taking my customary evening walk a bit late in my apartment complex when a bunch of children came running my way. They were 8 years and younger, boys and girls, prancing around the complex in a carefree manner. My own children were upstairs, their curfew time starting earlier than that of these children.
One of the girls suddenly chimed, "Aunty, your son threw stones at us."
One of the girls suddenly chimed, "Aunty, your son threw stones at us."
Friday, November 18, 2016
Demon-it-is-e
It has us in its vice grip
Making us spin and trip
Filling all our thoughts
That is all we ever sought
Making us spin and trip
Filling all our thoughts
That is all we ever sought
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Green (Un)Cover
What price development, I wonder.
I know the land I live in also must have been a forest once upon a time. In the immediate past, though, a slum occupied this space.
It pains to think of the havoc man is creating in this world. Delhi apparently is covered by a thick smog, so much that people have been advised to stay indoors. Is Chennai going to go the same way?
What can we as individuals do to reduce the destruction of our environment? Invest in land less? Worry about the future less? Reduce our consumption of material things?
Time to think is past. It is time to act now.
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Free and Flying
That leaf clinging to the tree
Struggles hard to break free
To toss and turn in the breeze
Playing, unmindful of who sees
No burdens, no thoughts
Not even that organ called heart
Just sheer joy and glee
Of feeling totally free
Oh to lose these heavy limbs
Not to be burdened by things
To roll and fly as I please
To play, just be, and to tease
Let the wind lend me wings
To drift with no strings
Go mind take some rest
Put all planning under arrest.
Struggles hard to break free
To toss and turn in the breeze
Playing, unmindful of who sees
No burdens, no thoughts
Not even that organ called heart
Just sheer joy and glee
Of feeling totally free
Oh to lose these heavy limbs
Not to be burdened by things
To roll and fly as I please
To play, just be, and to tease
Let the wind lend me wings
To drift with no strings
Go mind take some rest
Put all planning under arrest.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Age of Guilt
I smile, what for I wonder
I look around and shudder
Hate, hurt, angst and anger,
Tempers hanging on egos slender
Looting, rape, bullying, murder
Destruction and burning all to cinders
Amidst aplenty lingers hunger
Cruelty, even in love, lingers
Why so much noise and plunder?
Is humanity deep in slumber?
How do we face each other?
Why doesn't guilt tear us asunder?
My hands rise up in surrender
But is there a saviour, I wonder.
I look around and shudder
Hate, hurt, angst and anger,
Tempers hanging on egos slender
Looting, rape, bullying, murder
Destruction and burning all to cinders
Amidst aplenty lingers hunger
Cruelty, even in love, lingers
Why so much noise and plunder?
Is humanity deep in slumber?
How do we face each other?
Why doesn't guilt tear us asunder?
My hands rise up in surrender
But is there a saviour, I wonder.
Saturday, October 1, 2016
Love, and Love
I hide the marks your love leaves on my person
I bury the scars in my heart of love unreturned
My life brims with joy knowing you are near
I shut the door on emptiness of thoughts dear
My life floats in the fragrance of your presence
A whiff of you threatens to shake my very essence
I write with you the chapters of my life
The few words we shared create an epic strife
The journey together, a story of contentment
A life not lived, fighting resentment
Love unspoken, our bond strengthens
In the noise, the silence deepens.
I bury the scars in my heart of love unreturned
My life brims with joy knowing you are near
I shut the door on emptiness of thoughts dear
My life floats in the fragrance of your presence
A whiff of you threatens to shake my very essence
I write with you the chapters of my life
The few words we shared create an epic strife
The journey together, a story of contentment
A life not lived, fighting resentment
Love unspoken, our bond strengthens
In the noise, the silence deepens.
Thursday, September 29, 2016
The White Shirt
"Clumsy!" Kavya heard her mother's voice in her ears as she spilled coffee on her shirt. She looked at it in dismay, wondering when she would learn to be less messy. And why did she have to wear white!
The waiter very helpfully offered her tissues. But though she knew she should try to wash off the stain, getting a white shirt wet in a cafe!!!
She controlled the tears of frustration as she paid up and came out. She checked her watch - 10. Her house was in one direction, and her venue for the appointment in another. "Damn!" she thought. There was no time to go back home and change her shirt. She would have to buy another shirt. White shirt. Which idiot thought of making white the uniform at her workplace, she wondered for the nth time!
She looked across the road, wondering if she should just walk into the meeting with the stained white shirt and pretend it was the latest design!
She sighed, knowing that was not going to work. She was about to hail an auto when she realised there was a mall next door. She headed there, thanking gods for this little mercy on her. She entered her favourite shop. She looked for her size in her preferred brand and was disappointed to see they were out of stock. There was S, M and XL but no L.
Reluctantly, she looked for white shirts in other brands, and even in other shops in the mall, giving herself just 10 minutes to complete the survey. She didn't even need so much time. The stores in teh same floor didn't have white shirts. In the next floor, the only store that had didn't have her fit. Either they were too tight in the chest or too loose around the waist.
She recollected her mother's lamentation, "I can never find ready made clothes for you. Why can't you fit the mould?"
Ever since she turned adolescent, she had to opt for tailor made clothes. While for Indian she didn't mind that, getting a good tailor for western wear was a challenge. Now that at the workplace she had to wear western clothes most of the time, shopping was becoming a nightmare. Was it only she who had a problem, she wondered as she finally opted for an L size in an inferior brand and tried to get it to mould to her shape.
She reached the venue 20 minutes late, and not even feeling good about her purchase...
Who decides what a woman's body should be like - the thought wouldn't leave her. Was she abnormal? Was she misshapen? She started looking at herself closely every time she crossed a mirror. She started assessing the expression in the eyes of the people looking at her during conversations. She didn't see ridicule or even surprise in their eyes. Sometimes she even detected admiration and desire...
Then why couldn't she find a simple shirt? She went back, again and again, to try out different western designs and found the same problem. She spoke to her friends, acquaintances, wives of colleagues. It was heartening to know she was not the only one, but she wondered why no one had thought of all the other women who did not fit into the standard sizes.
Finding a solution became her only obsessive thought in the next few days. She searched the web, and all she came up with were tailor names and addresses abroad. Or high end fashion designers...
Her quest took her to e-commerce sites. Nothing much for women, but it gave her an idea.
It took her two years and much talking to her parents to convince them to back her. When she successfully commissioned western wear to fit her shape, she felt liberated. But when she launched a site for women to buy made-to-order wear, she was the first one to order the kind of clothes she had fantasised about all her life!
"My ugly duckling turns a swan," her mother said fondly, kissing her daughter. "Can I order some for myself too?" asked she, surprising Kavya. She thought her mother preferred the regulation uniform she wore. "I never found what I wanted in the shops," her mother confessed and the two had a hearty laugh.
(This story is a creative twist based on an interview I did for a management magazine about a woman who started a portal for customised western wear. It may differ in actual points as I do not know much about the person. The actual article on how her entrepreneurial journey turned out will appear in the next issue of the magazine.)
The waiter very helpfully offered her tissues. But though she knew she should try to wash off the stain, getting a white shirt wet in a cafe!!!
She controlled the tears of frustration as she paid up and came out. She checked her watch - 10. Her house was in one direction, and her venue for the appointment in another. "Damn!" she thought. There was no time to go back home and change her shirt. She would have to buy another shirt. White shirt. Which idiot thought of making white the uniform at her workplace, she wondered for the nth time!
She looked across the road, wondering if she should just walk into the meeting with the stained white shirt and pretend it was the latest design!
She sighed, knowing that was not going to work. She was about to hail an auto when she realised there was a mall next door. She headed there, thanking gods for this little mercy on her. She entered her favourite shop. She looked for her size in her preferred brand and was disappointed to see they were out of stock. There was S, M and XL but no L.
Reluctantly, she looked for white shirts in other brands, and even in other shops in the mall, giving herself just 10 minutes to complete the survey. She didn't even need so much time. The stores in teh same floor didn't have white shirts. In the next floor, the only store that had didn't have her fit. Either they were too tight in the chest or too loose around the waist.
She recollected her mother's lamentation, "I can never find ready made clothes for you. Why can't you fit the mould?"
Ever since she turned adolescent, she had to opt for tailor made clothes. While for Indian she didn't mind that, getting a good tailor for western wear was a challenge. Now that at the workplace she had to wear western clothes most of the time, shopping was becoming a nightmare. Was it only she who had a problem, she wondered as she finally opted for an L size in an inferior brand and tried to get it to mould to her shape.
She reached the venue 20 minutes late, and not even feeling good about her purchase...
Who decides what a woman's body should be like - the thought wouldn't leave her. Was she abnormal? Was she misshapen? She started looking at herself closely every time she crossed a mirror. She started assessing the expression in the eyes of the people looking at her during conversations. She didn't see ridicule or even surprise in their eyes. Sometimes she even detected admiration and desire...
Then why couldn't she find a simple shirt? She went back, again and again, to try out different western designs and found the same problem. She spoke to her friends, acquaintances, wives of colleagues. It was heartening to know she was not the only one, but she wondered why no one had thought of all the other women who did not fit into the standard sizes.
Finding a solution became her only obsessive thought in the next few days. She searched the web, and all she came up with were tailor names and addresses abroad. Or high end fashion designers...
Her quest took her to e-commerce sites. Nothing much for women, but it gave her an idea.
It took her two years and much talking to her parents to convince them to back her. When she successfully commissioned western wear to fit her shape, she felt liberated. But when she launched a site for women to buy made-to-order wear, she was the first one to order the kind of clothes she had fantasised about all her life!
"My ugly duckling turns a swan," her mother said fondly, kissing her daughter. "Can I order some for myself too?" asked she, surprising Kavya. She thought her mother preferred the regulation uniform she wore. "I never found what I wanted in the shops," her mother confessed and the two had a hearty laugh.
(This story is a creative twist based on an interview I did for a management magazine about a woman who started a portal for customised western wear. It may differ in actual points as I do not know much about the person. The actual article on how her entrepreneurial journey turned out will appear in the next issue of the magazine.)
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Armed Against Anger
It was like a battery of bullets being discharged, a sten gun in action. Ta-da-da-da-da she went. Anger bubbled. She felt so wronged at her wishes not being given due respect, of being forced to do something she did not want to year.
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Fighting Fears
My seven-year-old started crying whenever we asked him to take bath. He would want me to sit in the adjoining bedroom. This, after two years of taking bath by himself!
Used to the independence of not having to monitor his bath, I fought against his tears and pleas. Anger, cajoling, indifference, nothing worked.
And then I slowly found the reason. A Tamil movie, 'Kanchana', which I thought was a comedy and allowed him to watch in his friend's place, turned out to be a horror-comedy. The ghost comes in the bathroom, and hence his fear!
I tried to fight it through logic. I showed him the pictures of the actor and also how I found him handsome. I told him other stories to distract him. I even made him say Hanuman Chalisa and other slokas.
But while the lip moved, while the ears heard, while the eyes saw, the mind kept returning to the image that had caused the fear in the first place.
This couldn't go on! Bath sessions were becoming a melt down time - too much water in his eyes!
So then, I sat with him in the puja room. I told him to focus on his breath and slowly painted a scene with greenery and lake and serenity. I don't remember how long it took, but the Drama Before the Bath stopped and calmness returned.
It is never too early to teach children to focus on their breathing to deal with troubles of any kind. Solutions may not present themselves in any miraculous fashion. But they will be less stressed about it and that in itself may resolve half the problems.
Soon to follow: Armed Against Anger.
Also read: The Child-Like Mind
Used to the independence of not having to monitor his bath, I fought against his tears and pleas. Anger, cajoling, indifference, nothing worked.
And then I slowly found the reason. A Tamil movie, 'Kanchana', which I thought was a comedy and allowed him to watch in his friend's place, turned out to be a horror-comedy. The ghost comes in the bathroom, and hence his fear!
I tried to fight it through logic. I showed him the pictures of the actor and also how I found him handsome. I told him other stories to distract him. I even made him say Hanuman Chalisa and other slokas.
But while the lip moved, while the ears heard, while the eyes saw, the mind kept returning to the image that had caused the fear in the first place.
This couldn't go on! Bath sessions were becoming a melt down time - too much water in his eyes!
So then, I sat with him in the puja room. I told him to focus on his breath and slowly painted a scene with greenery and lake and serenity. I don't remember how long it took, but the Drama Before the Bath stopped and calmness returned.
It is never too early to teach children to focus on their breathing to deal with troubles of any kind. Solutions may not present themselves in any miraculous fashion. But they will be less stressed about it and that in itself may resolve half the problems.
Soon to follow: Armed Against Anger.
Also read: The Child-Like Mind
Friday, September 9, 2016
Not As In...
"How did your day go?" Vivek asked when Sadhana returned from work.
"Mmmm..." she replied noncommittally.
"Is that a yes or a no?" he asked, more from masochistic intentions of needing evidence to lament later on.
"It was good," Sadhana answered, but her tone did not reflect 'good.'
"Mmmm..." she replied noncommittally.
"Is that a yes or a no?" he asked, more from masochistic intentions of needing evidence to lament later on.
"It was good," Sadhana answered, but her tone did not reflect 'good.'
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Mars is the Next Earth
Suddenly, my older one burst in on me with this theory - that Mars will be the next earth.
In her words:
"Kalki avataram is the last of the incarnations after which the earth will be destroyed. Mercury and Venus are going to merge with the Sun, and earth is becoming the next Mercury - hot - as it is getting closer to the sun. Mars will come to Earth's position. Already snow capped mountains, underground water and atmosphere conducive for life have been found on that planet. So that will be the next earth. Then after sometime, that will also move closer to the sun and the next planet will become the earth, and this will go on till all are consumed by the Sun."
I listened with a thoughtful smile, thinking how close she is to the theory of expanding and contracting universes. I quoted:
ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदं पूर्णात्पुर्णमुदच्यते
पूर्णस्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते ॥
ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥Om Puurnnam-Adah Puurnnam-Idam Puurnnaat-Purnnam-Udacyate
Puurnnasya Puurnnam-Aadaaya Puurnnam-Eva-Avashissyate ||
Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantih ||
Meaning:
THAT (BRAHMAN) IS WHOLE, THIS (CREATION) IS ALSO WHOLE
FROM THAT WHOLE (I.E. BRAHMAN ONLY), THIS WHOLE HAS COME OUT (CREATION)
BUT EVEN THOUGH THIS WHOLE HAS COME OUT OF THAT WHOLE
YET THAT WHOLE REMAINS WHOLE ONLY
In 'Vashishta's Yoga', the idea that the whole cosmos begins from a mustard seed - a complete circle, that expands in creation and contracts in dissolution - seems to be indicated. What she told me, not based on any scientific fact or even with any understanding of what is given in the scriptures, seemed to reflect this same thought. Though this will mean that the sun will also move and so the relative cosmic distances with other stars, planets and galaxies will change, it is quite possible that in a contracting world, earth will eventually go back to its progenitor - the sun.
We will not live to see this, but I was pleased to see the radiant smile on her face when I explained what little I understood to her. And I was glad of the opportunity to give this self-generated nascent thought a direction.
 |
| Photo courtesy: Srikant Ranganathan |
In her words:
"Kalki avataram is the last of the incarnations after which the earth will be destroyed. Mercury and Venus are going to merge with the Sun, and earth is becoming the next Mercury - hot - as it is getting closer to the sun. Mars will come to Earth's position. Already snow capped mountains, underground water and atmosphere conducive for life have been found on that planet. So that will be the next earth. Then after sometime, that will also move closer to the sun and the next planet will become the earth, and this will go on till all are consumed by the Sun."
I listened with a thoughtful smile, thinking how close she is to the theory of expanding and contracting universes. I quoted:
ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदं पूर्णात्पुर्णमुदच्यते
पूर्णस्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते ॥
ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥Om Puurnnam-Adah Puurnnam-Idam Puurnnaat-Purnnam-Udacyate
Puurnnasya Puurnnam-Aadaaya Puurnnam-Eva-Avashissyate ||
Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantih ||
Meaning:
THAT (BRAHMAN) IS WHOLE, THIS (CREATION) IS ALSO WHOLE
FROM THAT WHOLE (I.E. BRAHMAN ONLY), THIS WHOLE HAS COME OUT (CREATION)
BUT EVEN THOUGH THIS WHOLE HAS COME OUT OF THAT WHOLE
YET THAT WHOLE REMAINS WHOLE ONLY
In 'Vashishta's Yoga', the idea that the whole cosmos begins from a mustard seed - a complete circle, that expands in creation and contracts in dissolution - seems to be indicated. What she told me, not based on any scientific fact or even with any understanding of what is given in the scriptures, seemed to reflect this same thought. Though this will mean that the sun will also move and so the relative cosmic distances with other stars, planets and galaxies will change, it is quite possible that in a contracting world, earth will eventually go back to its progenitor - the sun.
We will not live to see this, but I was pleased to see the radiant smile on her face when I explained what little I understood to her. And I was glad of the opportunity to give this self-generated nascent thought a direction.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
The Child-like Mind
An unexpected statement, and my mind flared up. A root thought went round and round in circles, taking over my mind and emotions. My hands went about their work, but the thoughts - a thought, in fact - split into different hues like light passing through prism, scattering into a million other thoughts.One hue resulted in a debate; another pulled up past offenses; a third imagined a friend to whom I poured out my heart; a fourth thought objectively and judged itself petty for the frenzy it was getting into.
These further splintered into a myriad subthoughts. And, oh, a part was getting bored and sought to distract itself. So wave dipped and peaked, dragging the mind down while another sought to remain neutral and a third tried to boost it up.
The thoughts fueled the morning chores, which got done early due to the anger energy flowing with the blood. A refreshing bath changed the direction of the thoughts. A brief yoga session later, the mind started singing a song and presto! the mood had changed. Like a child that saw a new toy and forgot its tantrum, the mind now easily flowed to other, more pleasant thoughts.
'Dil to bachcha hai ji' - suddenly this line flashed through my mind (the very same, the very same). The mind is indeed a child, pretending to be mature and adult-like, but really a child that sways with whims and fancies. It throws tantrums, becomes stubborn and clings to its views without any rationale sometimes. The ego stands like a guardian - a short-sighted parent - assuring the mind of its perspicacity and encouraging it in its rash and unreasonable behaviour that becomes self-destructive eventually.
A little bit of sugar can distract a crying child. A little focus on our breath can distract our child-like mind. But just like the child enjoys the tantrum, we enjoy our spiraling thoughts.
I bow to our ancestors who identified the gentle guide, the guru - our breath- that calms us, guides us, releases us from the vice grip of our thoughts and emotions without much effort.
The One who gave us problems gives us solutions too, it is said. Most of the times, problems are of our own making. And yet, we have been given a solution in anticipation. Let's at least use that well.
Do problems go away? No, but they cease to become a problem - just a situation that needs to be faced and will pass... A child needs its games. Let it have its fun. Like a mature parent, smile and watch but don't get too involved. The next fancy will change the direction of the thoughts in any case.
Also Read:
Fighting Fears
Armed Against Anger
Sunday, August 14, 2016
A Prayer, O Mother
Rising sun, shining forth
Spreading light, and hope
Colouring earth with saffron hue
Riding in the sky ever so blue
White, pure and bright
Filling hearts with divine light
In the middle a blue dot
Representing the Ultimate Truth
The lush, cooling green
And the trees, life-giving
For farmers who toil
Shedding sweat on my soil
The three stand out
And yet are ever together
Fluttering proudly in the wind
Making my heart sing
My eyes well up
When I look at you
Sometimes with pride
Sometimes with regret
May we be worthy of you
May we make you proud
Every day, every year
I offer you this prayer.
Spreading light, and hope
Colouring earth with saffron hue
Riding in the sky ever so blue
White, pure and bright
Filling hearts with divine light
In the middle a blue dot
Representing the Ultimate Truth
The lush, cooling green
And the trees, life-giving
For farmers who toil
Shedding sweat on my soil
The three stand out
And yet are ever together
Fluttering proudly in the wind
Making my heart sing
My eyes well up
When I look at you
Sometimes with pride
Sometimes with regret
May we be worthy of you
May we make you proud
Every day, every year
I offer you this prayer.
Saturday, August 6, 2016
Pleasure and Pain
From feeling intense anguish
It is no more even a deep wish
Oh! This pain cherished
Has all but vanished.
It is no more even a deep wish
Oh! This pain cherished
Has all but vanished.
In this journey through life
Of being someone's mother and wife
Facing day to day strife
Which cuts one like a knife
Of being someone's mother and wife
Facing day to day strife
Which cuts one like a knife
As old wounds slowly heal
With new ones one has to deal
With new ones one has to deal
In layers that don't peel
And yet pleasure in this ordeal
Yes, the pain that gives pleasure
Cherished secretly, like treasure
Not to be revealed even under pressure
And relished with love at leisure
One day that pain too deserts
As better sense reasserts
Living in the present needs efforts
Memories come and go but in spurts
Let go, for past is of no use
To accept pain, heart will refuse
Grab the moment and pain will diffuse
Then in heart will joy suffuse.
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