The cursed year 2021,
Was for me the worst one!
Forever missing Aai,
tho' normalcy I did try!
Let 2022 bring new cheer!
Tho' dear memories are forever!
With 2021, let eternal sadness be buried!
Thy portals, 2022, let Joy be thence ferried!
Pratima@grief will no longer the soul tarnish/with new creativities, let 2022 burnish!
There are always funny people around you. Actually, you are not even interested in, you are, in fact, least concerned with their being there. Often you do not even have any, forget contact, basic acquaintance with them. Most probably, they are being paid directly and/or indirectly to keep a close watch on you. No, the intention behind that close watch is not to help you in the tough times. On the contrary, their handlers cum masters are paying them to harass you.
These creeps know more about you than you do about yourself. They would stand on the street/lane next to your house, and keep on guffawing loudly amongst themselves about how you sleep the whole day! Yet another favourite theme is how you are going to be thrown out of your job, for instance. They know absolutely every aspect of/about your nonexistent Love Life!They would not be decent enough to upfront take your name. That dignified transparency is priceless. Where will they gain it at all? Not possible in the next ten lives for them.
Such stupid smear campaigns about what you do/are, actually never do/have been, go on daily, weekly, monthly, yearly, decades long! If the intention is to break you, the cheap skates do not realise that they, their handlers/masters, their useless intentions do not even exist for you. Their stupid remarks, however loudly made, are so brainless that you tend to completely ignore them, and you continue (with) your preferred activities, your clean life style, and go about all that you want to do anyways. Yes, it is utterly useless picking a fight with such weirdos for whom the new technology is a vicious tool of harassment. May be, that ugly fight is what they always want so that thus they can continue canards they love to spread. Does anyone believe them? If some do, then those faithful believers are also as cheap as these hecklers. Both absolutely to be ignored!
Otherwise, it would be the same old story of fighting with a hog. The pig enjoys the fight, anyways, but you are unnecessarily rolled in the ugly, sticky mud! Why bother!?!
Pratima@remember the Kabir Doha, "hathi chalat apni chal/gali ke kutte bhonkat jai" Aai and Papa had both quoted it to me!
Heart is free of jealousy and malice
Earning income with a sense of peace
Attaining life goals late but with ease
Love the family, can sacrifice in a trice.
Touch me can not the ugly fancy wor(l)ds
Head, heart,soul fly content, free like a bird.
Pratima@ Such pure health/Aai-Papa loved/this real wealth/brightest gem like glowed!
In the terrible world today, there are horrible people of all varieties. There are hypocrites, there are cowards, there are swindlers, but the worst ones of all such crudities are the gossip mongers. Why? They try to steal an identity through their vicious nonsense, that is why!
Why do these cheapies gossip? They do not have anything else to do or discuss, that is why. A person busy with her own life would not even have the time to gossip about anybody else. A person with truckloads of vacant time on hand usually swindles it thus.
Yet another possibility is that such cheapsters are psychologically maladjusted. Absolutely useless, worthless, and unsuccessful in their own lives, personally and professionally, they need to show a better person down so that they get a vicarious, vicious pleasure by spreading notorious nonsense about others. They themselves, their immediate family and its meanness do not need to face the light if they can steal some innocent, absolutely unrelated person's limelight.
An example can be Iago, the ultimate Guru of gossip mongers. It is his vicious, jealous, evil gossip that ruins an innocent life. Often compared to a vulture or a hyena, he is actually an insult incarnate to the clean animal world that lives by the gut actually. While guts is precisely what the worthless gossip mongers lack!
How to deal with them? They would never have the daring to do or say anything openly. The best way hence is to ignore them completely. If they can be exposed by a direct confrontation, it is worth it, too. Ideally, it should be recorded, too, so that they can thereafter be shamed with/in their own petard. The worst vengeance, however, against such third rate fools is to become better by the second literally so that their tar can never darken our bright image, while never overlooking the fact that only worthless people as meanies as the gossip mongering cheapskates would believe them. None believes the gossip mongers and their ilk anyways as all know the truth in their silly, dirty minds if at all that contraption can be so called at all! So worry a nary about the cheapos. Without and instead of them, let your wor(l)ds grow!
Pratima@gossip monger, gossip monger, go away/ your lies here have no sway
Ever since this danger of a "dis-ease" started hovering over the world horizon, Corona is indeed the oh-my-coron(a) moment of the Corona, what with the new omicron variety!
The present avatar of the dreaded disease is a bother precisely because it is so very banal. The two major indicators of the omicron infection are headache and fatigue. How very helpful! Headache happens! For many, it is almost a chronic condition. Exceptions to this universal condition are people, like me, who lack the head part of the personality. Anyway, we belong to a very, very, very insignificant minority, as it is. In other words, headache cannot be a distinguish-ed/-ing fieature, right?
The second symptom of the omicron infection is is indeed "frightful" in all senses of the term. Fatigue, it is! Well, such are the psychosomatic realities currently that most everyone is currently facing multiple types of fatigues!
Can such be the defining features of a new variant that has already enveloped the entire Europe in its dis-eased, though, hopefully less dead-ly arms? It is such pathologies that make one wonder if the conspiracy theories are indeed true! Is it indeed a farce by the pharmaceutical companies in cahoots with transnational finance and certain 'arms' of the nation stat(e)s! Oh- my -cro(w)n! Crowning glory of the headache disease!
Pratima@ why fear a disease now declared mild/ is its now target the child!?!
Rest they in our hearts
Eager ever to again start
Latent is their subtle art
As our soul-wards they dart.
Together we are, though oft apart,
In our minds, that route they chart
Of memories, never wayward depart,
Never winds that road wide, taken oft
South or west, it never lets you part.
Hark, your feels heartwards they cart
In despair or fear, support they impart
Past in future via present, they are smart
Summer ever blooms thus in our heart!
Pratima@ relationships are forever why through embers them tar?
It is the Christmas time yet again. Spent a lovely half an hour this morning trying to locate who/why prefers "merry" over "happy" christmas. Fun it was, though 'merry' pronunciation wise is much closer to 'Mary', and Dan Brown's "Da Vinci Code" has already established the centrality of "Mary" , of the Magdalene identity, too, in Christ's life.
That set me thinking about the real meaning of the cross, of Christmas. Surely, it is not the ceremony, though the festivities, beginning with the carol-singing, are fun, especially if the diocese is Catholic. Beyond such razzmatazz, however, Christianity is the rejection of the powers that be, of the 'norm'ative, and instead the re-instituting of the alternative, and of the accommodative way of living.
Look at his birth itself! His supposed father is a carpenter. He is born to a virgin mother, that, too, in the cowshed. Yet the magi have to follow the star to reach him. His apostles, and followers, are the societal lowly, too. Why, he is the first one to think of the child as an interesting metaphor! The end is thus the beginning! In brief, christmas is merry because of such prioritizing of the alterities!
pratima@the other is the center/the center shifts to the non-foci/Christ is thus the I/of those who the discourse re-enter!
Oh, no, please do not think that I am going to grumble or eulogize the teaching/learning processes of the online variety. Not at all.
Rather, I am going to discuss a lesson or two I learnt online today. Well, I wanted to send eats as a Santa surprise. Simple, clean wish! So searched for the Dunzo. They promptly cut Rs. 35/- online for registration.No one came for quite some time. So called up the supposedly Dunzo office nearby, that is, Bibvewadi, as found on the google. It was open, too. So the guy online kept on saying that since their representative who just did the vanishing trick after having come to my address, the money would be returned. He kept on repeating the offer, and started sending forms and online e-addresses to my wapp number. The very second form along was declared fake by the wapp message system. I also got a message by the bank that there was an order placed for osmepherpn by me which I had not. So I immediately reported it as fraud. So the messages stopped. Tomorrow I am going to the main office to get my Rs. 35/- back.
In the meanwhile, we fast couriers offered to deliver the goods. The guy took the booking money from me, said that he wd require one more client so that he gets the petrol money back, then he said he wd deliver my parcel first, then the second that side, he did not take my signature, said he did it himself, I repeatedly told him the address orally, it was written in block letters on the bag, I had entered the entire address in the message box of the app, too.
He said his Name is mahalinga(m?!?). He said he wd deliver the order i had booked first, and then go to the second order when I called him at 8.30. Then he started saying it was not Baner area, then said he had taken up another assignment so that he can manage the return to pune tariff, will complete it first. After many a prevarication and somersaults about being in Baner, he finally delivered at 10.40.
Let us imagine he went to Baner even after ten times my having said that it was near Nexa show room and Sakal Nagar, how much time and petrol wd be needed from Baner, or from Sus Road as he initially said, to reach Nexa show room? Tops fifteen minutes, thirty minutes? He needed two hours! After every half an hour, when I called him, he had a new story!How much Petrol for 10 kms? Tops would be Rs.25/-
If he comes prancing tomorrow for more money, I am going to ask him for the company office address. Earlier, too, the guy from the same company read the address wrongly, and started giving me lectures. He also read my, sender's address as the target address, and was giving me lectures!
If we are boasting about the new online economy, what security, is there for the honest common citizen whose hard earned money is to be thus pilfered, phished? How about the simple desire for good wishes reaching on time going waste? Do not clients have any rights?
If the representative did not want to deliver, he need not have accepted in the first place! Why lie about Sus Road? What has Sus Road got to do with Baner Road? They are absolutely different areas! And from either place to Nexa show room, cannot require 125 looooong minutes!
The online trade, the crypto-currency are thus horrors intended, it is thus clear, to hoodwink the honest common citizen indeed! There has to be an transparent, genuine openness about such transactions. Otherwise, the system, daily lived, would get corrupt and inefficient, and daily disbelieved, and thus disbelieving it would be the soul of the system, the common citizen. Hope the government goes for checks and balances to contra/counter-attack such jugaads and chicaneries!
Pratima@deception, duplicity/must not get the systemic authenticity!
Best to ignore-n-forget the pigmy Bully
Unlearn that Vicious Harassment
Live your innocent life to the fullest
Let go of that ugly, conscious ill treatment
Your triumphs must trounce him-n-his truly.
pratima@ Why discuss thrice the bully?
To remove the serpent truly
From consciousness coolly
Better your future ideal-ly!
Bust the bully? indeed? why?
Under his pretences, let him lie!
Leave him to his countless sham(e)s!
Let him carry on with his games!
You, instead, juggle the magical aims!
Bust the bully not.
Under such harsh boots
Surely get crushed not.
Touch thou the stars in thine routes!
Pratima@Why bust the bully?/
Why allow him any tally?/
Let him be a sadist/
Never were you a masochist!
*B*ully of the cancerous type is the fool!
*U*nder the illusion tho' that he is cool!
*L*ie he would the worst way about you!
*L*ikes him not the world, they believe you!
*Y*es, ignore him ever, be to yourself true!
Pratima@A crook he is, to be disregarded/ thus alone gets the bully bullied!
Post scriptum:
Why fight a fool?
and thus be his tool?
Intact let be your dignity.
Thus blooms your identity!
When we were small, it was a great happiness when birdies would build nests in our garden. Given the number of trees, there used to be quite a few every year. It used to be a great fun feel watching the pair build the nest, guard the eggs, get the chickling their feed. We used to be party to the entire procedure, feeding the mama/papa birds with tidbits, standing guard to the nest, and so on, without touching the small ones because Aai used to say that birds do not accept the babies that human beings have touched. Once, there was a lovely blue bird that had thus nested. We used to literally keep a vigil to guard its nest against a big, kite like bird.
Once the chicks had grown wings, felt sturdy and strong, they would just fly away. A chick, I remember, whom I used to feed drops of water and fine grains of rice because its mother seemed to have deserted it and it opened its beak each time I would go nearby, just flew away in my face.
For a few days, the empty nest seemed very lonesome, especially if were a sparrow's nest. All that busy f(l)urry activity, that eternal chirping would suddenly go mute, silent, lonely. At times, a new pair may build a new nest or settle down in the old one. The same lovely process of generation and re-generation would continue the whole season. We used to keep the lovely, at times plain crude, nests with a soft, downy mattress of cotton, thread and plumes inside. At times, some other pair would loot it and build its own nest anew.
I suppose, every couple faces this feel, that empty nest syndrome, when children grow up, leave home for further education, for a bright future, for their togetherness with their partner. Busy with their new worlds, they cannot even imagine the happy, content, proud and yet deeply sad, lonely feel of the parents left behind. The home, ringing with the loud banging and the cheery singing/whistling, beginning with bathroom to the porch, suddenly appears deeply silent, and yet, for the parents, each shuffling step, with the now creaking knees, is full of the echoes of the little baby now a grown-up adult with a different horizon. Content, happy and yet lonesome, the empty nest syndrome!
Pratima@the eternal advices of happy yet worried Aai-Papa each time Raju was to board the ship, Sanju the plane or I the train!
Actually today I was going to continue my loud thinking on memory. I got to read a dissertation on the Great Wapp University, however, which disturbed me a lot. Hence this blog.
The long wapp message would beguile most all. This hunch of mine was proved right by the spontaneous overflow of the powerful (or power-fool) responses. What was said in this write up that got such congratulatory ooh's and aah's?
Apparently, a teenager, in a road side shoppie with even its name wrongly spelt, could unravel the problem in a Blackberry phone, a skill rather rare then. Wonderful so far! Such a young guy should indeed be encouraged, though one does guess that such fancy mobiles would be abundantly available in the black market even then, and the kid must have tinkered with such fancy gadgets in his kind/line of business in multiple ways, including selling, and substituting, the original parts.
Sadly such a parallel economy is the reality. Why, people prefer the Chinese goods, despite all sorts of jokes. True, such kids must be encouraged, must, in fact, be made to join the mainstream education. Absolutely necessary! True, every child, meritorious or otherwise, should have an opportunity to develop the EQ, the SQ, and whatever could be the latest, the 'in', "Q", nor to forget the ubiquitous soft skills. Undoubtedly! So far, so good!
What I found rather wonky was the glorification of the "jugaad". The buck did not stop there. Next, there was a pious attack on the meritorious children of the middle class. True, merit must be critiqued. So, too, must be such jugaad! As it is, most all have lost faith in mainstream education, especially given the pandemic . Students do not feel the need to attend lectures even online, delivered directly in to their living rooms. Even when a sincere teacher tries to make it a kind of additional input that goes beyond whatever is available on the internet, students are so blase with what the mcq would be like that they pity you that you are actually bothering to make studies profound!
Given such mix-up's, glorifications of jugaad's, while conveniently forgetting that the kid would have had ample encounters of the Blackberry variety on the black market, is downright dangerous.
Wish I could ask certain basic questions. Would such critics send their own children to such shops cum road side schools that would teach their children the great life skills? No way! Their own children must attend the best schools, biggest universities, preferably abroad. Would they be happy if their child was a drop out?
And, oh, yes, actually, for every one success story of a drop out, there are hundreds of terrible tragedies that never ever even get explored, forget mentioned. Look at Vinod Kambli, for instance. True, he had apparent temper issues which sure are/even then were manageable with kind advice, some behaviour management treatment/therapies. Similarly, it is not as if behind the successfully, carefully crafted brand(ed) icon, there are not any temper tantrums. Kohli, for example, is precisely praised for these! Given such realities, why praise a Sachin as a drop out achiever, and worse still, why mockingly dismiss the "meritorious" as a dreadful drudge?!?
A parallel would be (p)raising to the skies the gangster in phillums, laughing all along at the good guy reduced to a caricature! Surely, mere survival instinct based jugaad's cannot be (p)raised sky high, and surely not as education, moreover, of the life variety. Try, however, raising such an alternative idea about their pet peeves, and, voila, you have raised/roused a proper beehive. There would be a group baying for your blood. Well, their kind of democracy allows only their opinions as valid, you see!
Sure, education needs constant overhauls. Sure, like Germany, for instance, after compulsory education till the eighth standard (because the necessary conceptual base would emerge then, and thus), students could branch out in to skills of their choices. These very people cry hoarse that under the guise of skills, lower class children are being pushed out of formal education. I would not like to even get in to the casteism that would immediately be implied.
I would, however, like to point out that education cannot be focussing on the latest technology/trend in the market/business because these would constantly shift. Education has to create an intellectual capacity, or rather, a mindset, the favourite word these days, that enables you to build, to address the base underlying the fleeting superstructures that current technologies/businesses, by definition, temporarily, build.
We ignore such praised platitudes (without much, forget, thorough, thought) at our own peril because , in the entire process, undoubtedly, the whole field of education, and indirectly society, gets so much more murkier that "cry, my beloved country" remains the only try!
Pratima@intellectual hypocrisy gets one five high's/while the real issue shrinks and d(r)ies!
How unique is this phenomenon called memories! Life, you think, is getting back on rails. Oh, no, not at all indeed! Suddenly an intense memory hits you like a huge tsunami wave, gulping down the nascent routine. Past once again becomes present.
The curious aspect of a memory is that you remember the minutest details with a vividness that is absolutely astonishing. You feel as if you are back at that place, in that moment. You know very well that you must rule your emotions, and not the other way round. Such shores of banal common sense are washed off in a trice though. You are the same sobbing -to- yourself simpleton.
Suppose, when in the throes of such strong memories, better to submit to them. May be, they are an inevitable stage of grieving, a step out of the trauma. Necessary, though painful!Bear them to overcome them, however slowly.
Pratima@penning pain!
Is there any meaning as such? Or does it emerge in a given context? In that sense, is not it mean-in-g? Oh, no, do not worry. No, I am not going to give you all a lecture on semiotics. For sure! I would like to prove through a fun example of how meaning emerges in context, how we mean in a given context.
Let us take the simple most sentence: "the door is open". The dictionary meaning is rather obvious. Do we, however, use the sentence as it would mean as per a dictionary? Never! Its meaning emerges absolutely in the context.
If a boss is very angry, as he/she often lives/loves to, the sentence would mean, "just get the hell out of here", right? If a couple is fighting bitterly, as often is their wont, too, it would mean " do not scream at the top of your voice. You are entertaining our neighbours, that, too, without a tax," right?
If two thieves ate passing by, and one of them informs the other with a huge glee, "the door is open", it would mean " we are indeed lucky today". If your bestie knocks, you holler this very statement to mean "just walk in without much ado".
The meaning in brief is never a given. It always emerges in a context, as per the relationship shared by the speaker and the listener, moreover. Meaning is always "mean-in-g"!
Pratima@Context makes it mean all.
Victory Day celebrations again
In memory of the pangs of a new nation
Countless hopes were thus born
Tho' soldiers died in many a battalion
Order new was thus awakened
Rare in Asia fifty years ago of a woman
Yea, who granted a new grace to salvation!
Pratima@the Shakti, the Durga
Thus hailed India Indira!
P.S.: Aai admired Indira Gandhi, like most people of her generation.
Do read my status today as it gives a unique version of liberation.
No, I am not talking today of the Jane Austen classic which continues to be one of my favourite most reads. Each time one (re)reads it, the novel allows a newer version of the wor(l)ds contained in those delightful and much loved pages.
Right now, however, the novel is not the focus of this blog.The blog today deals with a unique presentiment of the contemporaneous context.The mores of today are marked by a curious binary. Everywhere it is the 'with us' or 'against us' positioning. Let me give you an example of this 9/11 kinda argument. You are either pro Trump or anti Trump, for instance. In such a discussion are overlooked such subtle points as an honest critique of the real difference, if any at all, between the economic/financial /social preferences/policies of either the Republicans or the Democrats. Actually, there is hardly much of a qualitative difference in both these flip sides of that much used coin, the American dream. Both are butlers at the MNC/TNC unholy alliances the world over crossing all the borders of the nation states. But the current scenario is such that Trump is all evil and Biden is the pre-lapsarian Adam! Anyway, who cares about Afganisthan? Such a huge drain on the economy for such a long time! Convenient half truths rule the roost everywhere!
This rhetoric is echoing the world over. Pandemic? Anti China or you are not normal! Who then cares for the fact that trans-national pharmaceutical companies could have played a subtly vicious role in the entire 'profit-able' scenario. China, moreover, leads,nay, rules the manufacturing sector! Facts forgotten conveniently! Sacrificed at the altar of the 'white versus black', 'we or they' mantra that has vitiated the discourse.
In India, for instance, everybody is accusing everybody else of all that is possibly vicious in the whole world. Given such proctoring of the processes of discussion, in an argumentative country like ours, truth goes for a toss, given the agitated and vicious attacks on each other.
Currently there is no realisation on any side that reality is never black nor white. A dull gray, it is a delicate balance of kaleidoscopic fragments. So divided is the polity now that any such calibrated deliberation is marked by its absence! Pride only for/in my vision is actually nothing but a mere prejudice!But who cares for such fine tuning in the din that is all sound and fury, signifying nothing!
Pratima@when we accuse anyone, three fingers of our own hands hit our own palms!
*G*od Himself, explains concepts, Incarnate
*E*ach word destroys every lifelong threat
*E*ach solution He suggests is a Treat
*T*hat can each individually regenerate
*A*s though He thus us does recreate!
*Happy Geeta Jayanti*!
Pratima@ Geeta studied Aai/as well Dnyaneshwari/Both followed every/vrat, yes, Papa-n-Aai!
A jagged, rugged, craggy pass
That was what an exam used be
Once upon a time
Long, long, very long ago.
Myths it would make
Out of ordinary disciples.
Their travails bursting at seams
Their chronicles filling reams!
Now
Exams are a dry river bed
after a severe draught
lasting a parched decade
Excavate though a little!
Underneath could be civilisations
of cultured critiques
rooting themselves in
streams unseen
of intuitions unknown
where float visions
of futures exotic uncertain
that let us anew begin!
Pratima@ mcq's make markists!
We all, whatever age group we may belong to, whether some "guys n babes" as they call themselves, and others, who are just pretending to be 'oh so young', or those actually young, or those ageing gracefully, all of us believe that we love to hate the social media. I do not belong to that vast majority.
True, I do not hang out on the FB though I am apparently supposed to have four accounts there. I am not even on the twitter or the insta. Yet I would say that the wapp university need not always be a waste of time. True, most often, on wapp groups members do forward for the heck of it or for sheer time pass. The likes and dislikes there can be deceptive, too. I have a slightly different take on it. I am the type who believes that even the jokes popular on the social media teach us a lot. For one thing, such a joke or two lets you know the way the wind is blowing. It, moreover, reveals the mindset of the common man as those of us living in ivory towers believe others to be. For all you know, Prashant Kishore may thus be guessing whether or not "khela hobe". Who knows?
We do have two celebrities at least who rule all that they survey on the social media. Chetan Bhagat is one of them, while the other is THE Shashi Tharoor of the fab vocab variety. True, the social media does not have the sanctity of a university. For sure! Yet it does provide an informal training of its own, and nestled within your palm and with your index finger. True, indeed, no knowledge ever goes waste!
Pratima@ never alone/alone, all all alone/ are you on the social media/awaiting you for sure is some trivia!
Measureless
Outstanding
Unique
Notable
Towering
Awesome
Immense
Nearing the skies
Superb they rise!
Wish the universe, "Happy Mountains Day"!
Mysterious Guards of life seem they!
Pratima@ craggy, rough n rugged are they
Yet climb each mountain we may.
The second world war was in a way the defeat of the very humanity. The Enlightenment belief that humanity was leaving behind barbarity and definitely, and fast, was progressing towards rational self betterment was shattered due to the carnage carried on in the concentration camps. As if the ethnic cleansing during the holocaust was not vicious enough, the atomic bombing of Hiroshima-Nagasaki wiped out two living cities. Both these blots on human history were warning bells that had to heard. In 1945, on this very day, the U.N. General Assembly floated the proposal of the Universal Human Rights. Desperately needed, these were clearly enunciated by 1948.
Actually a project forever in the making, given the emergent contexts constantly shifting, these international laws grant a human(e) treatment to each and every person without any reference whatsoever to any issues such as race, gender, nationality, region, religion, class or caste.
A clarion call to the basic rights of/to life and liberty, the charter grants freedom of opinion and expression. No power, however mighty, can take away the right to dignity and equality, maintains this charter. It grants the right to education and to work, too. Ethical and normative principles, their efficacy and need have often be tested in the last seventy five odd years. Despite all sorts of violations by the vested interests, these laws, however toothless the U.N. may appear, have managed to maintain a semblance of sensibility in a world otherwise gone wild, drunk especially on the AI and the AR, and powered by their digital cousins. In a world dreaming to inhabit the moon and the mars, they are the hope that life on earth can be a heaven!
Pratima@ ethical empowering and betterment of self, and others!
Today happens to be the anti corruption day. What is corruption? As India is often equated with it the world over, may be, to many a people, corruption would refer to the monetary variety. In my opinion, however, that is an illness that can be easily cured. Tough measures, tight rules and regulations especially by the powers that be, some cultural and sociopolitical will by all the institutions, including the civil society, any country can aspire to Number One @ the Moodies, or any other such index.
Not so easily curable is the other, the real corruption. It is the dis-ease of the head, of the heart, of the soul which infects those who cannot boast of such mental capacities, to begin with. If at all they have any such contraption, it is of the pigmy size. Such meanies and their cronies can go to any hellish levels to stop the progress of those of a taller stature. As their own line (and/of thinking, if possible to them at all) is real short, and can never ever be lengthened in any positive way as everything else about them, brains to be begin with and character to end with, is small, shrunken, and short, their only satisfaction lies in viciously wiping out others' lines.
What they, however, forget is that somebody's fortune is not lined up by their mischief. Due to their dastardly cheapness and harassment, a good person may indeed lose opportunities. Though, when one door closes, a better, a bigger gate sure opens for the good, however dis-abled the vile vicious think they may have made you to find themselves victorious. Better to stay away from such( especially the lady versions) Iago's and their subtle net spread and cast much worse than the spiders'.
I can think of a much worse corruption though. In my opinion, this kind of corruption is the real taint that one must protect oneself from.The worst corruption in my opinion lies in allowing the bad to make you worse, to be like them, to be their spitting image. Momentary anger is obviously okay. But they must not be able to 'de-sign' you like them in any way. One must have the strength of purpose and character to better one's earlier self due to the temporary setback thus suffered, learn from it, strengthen oneself in areas one realises one needs to work on, and be a better version of oneself by the day. Thus can corruption be conquered.
Pratima@ the real corruption is the image/by you yourself mirrored vague!
Contentment
A child absorbed in her game
Of rag dolls with tattered limbs.
Contentment
A pariah fed with left overs
without a kick in the shins.
Contentment
mallet calloused palms
in parkinson's frenzy
chipping out the
last dream in to a shape.
Contentment
a grandchild's kiss
for the cavernous cheeks a bliss.
Contentment
Epiphany
Ecstasy
A bliss
An eternal togetherness
Of contrarian companionship!
Pratima @ fulfillment
Old time films are indeed great. One such film is Udan Khatola. A tribute to true Love that transcends death, not to forget horrible machinations by powers that be, we are here referring to it because it begins with a great excitement for flying, for winging wonderfully. Flying, a great adventure, a miracle in the skies, is what instigates the action in the film.
Icarus myth onwards, flying has been a passion with human beings. Wright brothers made it a reality. Now flying is made so very normal by the aviation industry. Flying is indeed a priceless experience. You are literally on cloud nine. Metaphorically, too, of course. Indeed it broadens your prospective every which way. It is indeed an arch that made space imaginings a possibility.
Rich by definition, this adventure is a wondrous celebration of all that is imaginative and brilliant in human brain and mind. Let us celebrate this hyper creative activity, now made a daily routine, on this civil aviation celebration day!
Pratima@to fly is to try/to cross beyond and pass by/the limits set by the sky/Thus we come in to our real I!!!
A pleasure it indeed is to keep a promise
Thou giveth thyself in a trice like a novice
Woods then are lovelier, who cares if darker
Of thine self control hath thee thus a marker
Dust thou art, and to dust thou returnest, insists every religion. There is this lovely Kabir doha, for instance, that narrates, "Mati kahe kumbhar se/tu kya ronde mohe/ek din aisa awega/main rondungi tohe". Some reminder it is of how we are just dust particles despite our bombast and despicable attitudes, our prides and our prejudices.
As per the Bible, too, man was made of dust and God blew life in to it let man come alive, and after death, the rituals re-turn man to dust whence he came. The birth of Eve is a different story altogether, not the concern right now.
Why the need for all these discussions, you may ask. Well, today is the soil conservation day. Actually, the earth, the soil is the mother of not only the farmer, but of us all. In our consumerist greed though, we have completely ruined and rubbished it. The chemicals in every possible form, the cruel and vicious excavations in search of minerals, the erosions due to deforestation, we have devastated dust, too.
If life is to thrive, we must let soil survive! Only a rich soil can get us healthy food, any water at all to drink, if you remember the life cycle we studied during our school days. A child is born, lives healthy-n-happy if and only if the mother is hale-n-hearty. That is the relationship human beings share with the soil, too. Let soil revive, and we would all survive!
Pratima@ if ill is the soil/life would have to toil.
There was this video that I watched this morning. It was shot by some citizen journalist who was on a tour of some national park. The safari jeep had dived very deep in to the wild. A herd of elephants grazing quietly was deeply disturbed by all that sound and fury. The big ones charged at the human beings, initially to their amusement! All escaped safely, but the incident shows how we treat the wild animals. Wildly indeed!
The video reminded me of an essay by the formidable George Orwell. The essay talked of his helplessness when it came to the killing of a majestic elephant. The animal was on heat. The crowd thought it was wild, and would stop at nothing short of shooting the poor animal! Indeed wild, who though?
We, the human beings, have encroached their habitat, destroyed the forests, and hence the life chain, interfering thus in the very cycle of their existence. We kill them for our lusts; their body parts are aphrodisiacs for weirdos. Wild and cruel, we, the human beings are, destroying them, while blaming the victims! Look at the leopard attacks! Some proof they are of my assertions so far.
Indeed we need to conserve the forests, their inmates, the wild animals, and all this anxious "activ(e-)ity" not for their, but our own good. Otherwise, it would be a mad, headlong rush in to our own extinctions. Long live wild animals, safe and sound!
Pratima@ tigers and such wild ones at their own site/in the forests, day and night/treat them and their ilk right/in such wise might lies our future bright!
Such are the business oriented lives of ours these days that the title of the blog may make you believe that I am referring to a company and its market share, and so on. You are absolutely wrong there. I am referring to the high seas, beyond limits, beyond easy measurements, beyond simplistic control. The about to attack the eastern coast typhoon should prove the limitless might of the sea. That is not the occasion though. The blog is a celebration of the navy day tomorrow.
In a way, inevitable it is that I should remember the navy day as my almost twin brother is a merchant navy guy. In fact, the navy, whether merchant or the national is proof of how human intelligence used creatively, can create wonders. On the high seas, with the deep waters and the infinite skies as the only companions, a small little human vehicle can cut across huge, horrible, high rise waves to reach the shores successfully is a tale told by infinite intelligence, imagination and integrity.
Be it the erstwhile mast ships or the majestic ships today, the navy proves how human intelligence used creatively can navigate the mighty measureless seas. Hence the need to celebrate the navy day. During the COVID era, too, the merchant navy ships scaled the high seas. The omicron suspect from Dombivali proves this irrefutable fact. Covid could stop the world, not the merchant navy. The coast guard duty of the navy is so centrally important that 26/11establishes it irrefutably. Of the three arms of the army and their duties, Navy's is the toughest, but it has neither the glamour of the air force nor the glory of the army. Time we wake up to the stalwart contributions by the navy. Happy Navy Day!
Pratima@infinite our hopes, infinite our tropes/finite is your might, finite your scope!
Anti Pollution Day it is today. Absolutely necessary! The pollution levels in Delhi, for instance, are such right now that schools had to close down. In fact, the only advantage of the Corona virus was that it showed the extent of pollution. Due to the lockdown, vehicles were offline, that is off the road for a change. Apparently that made the air so pure that, after decades, from Chandigarh, the Himalayan peaks were visible.
Pollution is of various types. Air, water, sound, soil are rather well known. Now such environment pollution types are appreciably often part of school discourses as well. Today let us hence talk of two types that are now truly deserving of serious discussion.
The first of these is the visual pollution. We have on the social media, for example, so vitiated the language that now emojis express better than many an individual. Emojis is the preferred mode of communication. In a way, such an insistence is vitiating the linguistic abilities of individuals and societies. Who cares though? Similarly, as the mobile gets the wor(l)ds in to irresponsible palms, under the garb(age) of fun videos, ultimate insults (who "upvotes" them?) to human intelligence get uploaded. Truly inhuman(e) they are, though touted as innocent fun! This visual pollution truly, and immediately, needs a serious debate.
Much worse is the mind/thought pollution. Such viciousness is in the air that on many a wapp group, pogroms of the opinionated are absolutely appalling. What the dominant group in that wapp group considers is THE mode of thinking HAS to be the ultimate truth. Try supporting what THEY think is ridiculous, why, you have raised the hornet's nest, indeed you have hit a beehive. In unison, they attack, target you. These very people would otherwise cry themselves hoarse over comedy being attacked. In the group though, one line in a doggerel that they think is not right, the sporting spirit does the vanishing trick immediately! That is not targetting in their opinion as they are always 'right'. Yet they call themselves intellectuals attacking the 'right'!
There was this forward, to give another example, about how Krishna's life could be an example of how to face uncertainties due to multiple diseases. Immediately, a great scholar/intellectual/academician retorted 'why Krishna alone? Why not Kabir, Meera, et al, for example!' Well, who is to point out to the opinionated minds that Kabir, Meera and the others of their ilk, too, worshipped Krishna! Why not Buddha, it was argued. Why indeed not? Who stops such people from writing another (re)post(e)on how Buddha's ideas are equally valid as bolsters in days made difficult due to multiple viruses. How can anyone instead attack someone else's choice? The answer to such hatemongers would be, 'why not Krishna, (too)'? One needs time on hand for such slug fests! So much propaganda of extreme variety on so called liberal groups, too, is floated that they commit the sin they are accusing others of, out-gobbelsing-gobbels! Such identity politicking has absolutely weakened the civil society indeed. The ideology pollution is so dense a thought fog that we are like armies, to quote Arnolds's great quote/image, fighting by night! Ideologies zindabad! Who cares (why/how)for dispassionate balance!?!
Pratima@yet again fervently I remember George Orwell who repeatedly pointed out such chicaneries!
April is the cruellest month. This quote by T.S. Eliot is a much used one, by all sorts, beginning with students. Especially in the pre-covid era, so it used to be. The covid and its multiple variants have taken away both, the fear and the queer charm of the exam, what with the mcq's made as simple as is humanly possible.
In my opinion, however, December is the cruellest month. A curious feel of fatigue, anxiety and some worry get the control of the entire system. This panic attack is much worse than the Corona scare , and it happens habitually every early December.
The first week of December is an awakening that an entire year is almost 'past'. Thus starts the realisation of the much that is yet to be completed, while the year is almost over. The first week of December is an acute reminder of the transience of everything, and the permanence of nothing.
In India, the festive feel is on the ebb. With the cold setting in, the smudgy smog envelopes all. A pessimistic blue mood is in the very air, in the distant horizon with its skeletons of trees. Very few flowers bloom, trees shed leaves copiously, much faster than the tears of a lost soul. No hopes illumine the bleak scenario. April is indeed the cruellest month!
Pratima@know not whence /attacks this mood tense!
Explicating figures of speech to students who love to hate poetry is always an experience that you sometimes feel you would not like to assign to your worst enemy. The youth(fool) language today is as bald as the bed of a river in the scorching summer months. The social media, often their place to be and never not to be, is excellent, if at all, at banality. The Wapp University has many departments for sure. Even the world wide gurudom there refuses to touch poetry with a barge pole! What to expect then of the dedicated disciples?
Yet simile can somehow be simplified. Robert Burns'"My love is like a red, red rose", the eternally best example, is indeed a gem of a poem. You can not only extend it to add examples of the 'metaphor' easily, you can moreover let it bloom into a symbol. Whether or not the days and the week dedicated to 'love mania' are in the full bloom, they instantly get the colour (yellow, pink, red) symbolism.
Images are tough to trace indeed. Perception, the human activity involved, is a bother to begin with. Explaining the five senses can drive you senseless. My panacea to overcome this dis-ease is the song "ek ladki ko dekha". It is a brilliant series of lovely images. Let me look at an example or two, and leave you to explore the rest. " sandal ki raat", for instance, captures the beloved's dusky beauty, her uniqueness, her fragrant and rare presence, while "mandir me ho ek jalata diya" captures her illuminated persona, her soft, pure gentleness. As the first example appeals to the eyes and nose, you can thus readily and easily explain the visual and the olfactory images. The second example I have referred to explains the spatial and the kinetic imagery as well. And the explication can go on, without any boredom setting in. In fact, often, they join in the process, too. Whosoever said, Bollywood buries brains of its addicts? At times, Bollywood blooms the best!
Pratima@Aai-Papa's generation, a little wary of R.D's rhythm/felt, in this song, music he could fathom!
In the Times of India, there was this news item about blind students studying German. That reminded me of the batch of visually impaired students who studied Spanish with me at the BMCC Language Lab. It was indeed a unique experience in multiple ways. Indeed, they, too, taught me many aspects of the learning, and, living, too, process.
First and foremost, their attentiveness was fabulous. Spanish apps were not available then. My voice was their only means to Spanish wor(l)ds. They literally used to hang on to my words. Their attention used to be so intense that they literally used to remember every word. One of them, Raju, used to quote page number, line number,too! It humbled me to no end, made me still more responsible as a teacher.
What I appreciated the most about them was their joyousness. They used to participate in every college activity most enthusiastically. I still remember the way they had all dressed up for the Traditional Day. They had come to the Language Lab specially to show me their unique attires, and their happiness, when I praised them, was sky high.
They were hyper independent. Together, they would navigate the toughest road. If I praised them for that, they would narrate their encounters of the scariest variety with a laugh. Laughter was their USP. They had affairs, heartbreaks, silly and not so innocent gossip, too. Typical teenagers!
They taught me to be still more sensitive. Let me give you an example. I was teaching the passport, its structure/format/details. There was this entry "color de ojos"/colour of eyes. The batch was an inclusive one. The other students came up with prompt answers, black to blue! Then one of those visually impaired girls suddenly said, " Do eyes have to have colours? There is only dark black in front of us!" That goosebumps experience taught me to be still more sensitive and subtle in my choice of language assignments. Similarly, they told me of the horrible questions they were often asked by the so-called-normal people. I loved the way they used to fight for their rights.
That batch taught me how to be grateful for so many of the positivities of the 'nomal' life granted to us gratis. Most of all, what I learnt in depth was how never ever to "other", the backbone of literary theory even today! No wonder, I continue to love the "blind" feel!
Pratima@eyesight is not vision!
The blog today deals with a curious phenomenon my blogs often face. Well, every blog entry I publish, I check it a lot while writing it itself. Later, I cross-check it twice to avoid any error of grammar, usage, or the likes. Yet often when I re-read it later, some mistakes I never made often creep in!
Creepy indeed. It is clear some silly soul(!?!) who thinks no end of himself/herself is up to this arrogant stupidity. With technology, such interference is getting easier by the second. How mean and stupid though! Why correct someone else's stuff when your own language is nonexistent! Such creeps make me laugh, and, no, I do not get irritated. Not in the least!
Well, as I am personally not in love with myself, I write the blog, and forget it. Now I shall doubly cross-check it the next day, too. In a way, this meddlesome busybody thus makes me and my writing better because now I would read my blogs again and again which out of humility, out of the decision to never stand on one's laurels, big or small, I always avoided so far. The trouble monger is thus going to help me to be my own trouble shooter.
I would thus re-visit my blogs repeatedly which would be good for me and my blogs. Thank you, anonymous meddlesome fool for making me wiser!
Pratima@let your worst enemy be your neighbour, says Tuka, coz thus you get a chance to work on your faults and blemishes!
On a women's group was shared this most moving video. It was about animals. It had truly touching visuals, of a gorilla trapped, going mad in a cage, a calf mooing most pitifully when seperated from its mother, for instance. Nobody likes a pig. The video, however, of a fully grown pig shivering with fear just outside the abattoir in indeed tear jerking.
The entire video makes you feel happy that you are a pure veg. Once by a roadside selling poultry, I saw the ultimate cruelty meted out to the poor fowl, and it continues to give me nightmarish feelings even some ten years later.
Yet I feel that to think a person is very kind, generous and gentle if/because he/sh loves animals is wrong, too. There are animal lovers who are very harsh and exploitative with human beings! Complex are the ways of men and women. Yet no harm praying for animals either!
Pratima@Cruelty to animals is indeed bad/hypocrisy beneath it is truly sad!
Exactly eight months ago, Aai left us forever. Thereafter, there has not been a moment I have not remembered her. It is no different for Papa. His sad demise was in 1999. Yet every month on 21, I keep a fast in his memory. No, I am not talking about myself. For sure, not!
The issue I am trying to 're-solve' within myself is who exactly are these mnemonic epistles addressed to? Would there be somewhere in this infinite universe some place, some time as an entity where they would be, at least as an atomic existence, wherein these intense prayers for them, memories from the bottom of my soul and celebrating all that was best in them, would reach? A part of me says, yes, indeed!
In a way, it is like sending out messages, letters in this vast internet wo(r)ld. Some contact somewhere it makes that I am absolutely unaware of, and yet these words, these epistles of mine would mean something for/to that unknown reader in his her own way. When I think of the entire semiotics of the process, of the complex communication process involved, it makes me feel full of wonder.
There is yet a part of me, the doubting Thomas , the eternal to mean or does it Hamlet within me, that seems to ask me if this is a subtle self-indulgence. True, after the demise of Aai-Papa, within the thirteen days, and beyond, I HAVE experienced their presence, and, no, it was NOT a delusion born out of grief, despair and a sense of eternal loss. I am, moreover, of the opinion that in this infinite existence, there are zillions of unexplored sites/sights not yet explored/fathomed. Hence I never pooh-pooh any feel just because my paradigms do not explicate them. Well, in brief, here is hoping that my heart felt epistles to them both, saying that they continue to be deeply loved, reach them, where ever they are, bring them a little more contentment, a forever feel of happy peace!
Pratima@months may pass years by-n-by/to keep your serene memories alive let me forever try!
I was to teach techniques for interviews in English this afternoon to graduating Law students from a rural college in Chattisgarh. I wanted them to realise that getting a job is not a finished product. Rather it is a process fraught with lots of efforts.
To clarify my point, I gave them an example. I said that any fruit, when ripe, just falls down, and, if you are lucky, right in to your extended palms. Human achievements are not that easy, not so effortless. We are wired to work hard from the moment of our birth, from the days of our forefathers staying in caves. We are hence bound to a sincere effort, whatever comes, whichever may be the field.
Indeed, spiritual to social, all domains require hard work, sincere efforts. I believe, moreover, that efforts must be smart,too. In the world today, for example, the basic knowledge of computers is indeed necessary. Using computers, moreover, would bring lots of actual rewards, too, and, oh, that indeed is my point. Efforts is indeed all!
Pratima@efforts en-light-en indeed!
To my blog yesterday, there was a rather angry response. This bitter response was by a senior professor, herself a parent. The argument of the lady was that the Young these days are responsible, too, for the "uncertain future".
What was the thrust of her complaint? Her basic argument was that the children from the Upper Middle class household are super lazy, arrogant, self centred. Forget thinking of the rest of the world, they do not even bother about the immediate family. Even if you spoon feed them with lots of knowledge, they refuse to study. They are stupid, but aggressive and over confident. They think that the Google Guru has all the answers. And, blah, blah, blah!
My response? It is multi-layered. First, I would like to put on record the fact that there are multiple exceptions to the rule Ma'am was referring to. Beyond my immediate family, I have my past as well as present students who are highly responsible, sensible, sensitive young people who care abundantly and genuinely for others, and for values. Nor are they hypocrites. There is a forthright frankness about them. They respond to honest sincerity.
My second point is that who makes them thus, the way Ma'am was referring to, or who is responsible for the careless heartlessness of the young? I would say, the adults. Students who see teachers with a low fund of knowledge, absolute lack of sincerity, without much responsibility or empathy, why would they respect such elders?
In the family fold, too, if they grow up watching eternally bickering parents, tearing each other apart right in front of the young one(s), listen-in-g to a mother who dishonours, insults, belittles, plots against the in-laws (whom the child(ren) may adore) for no rhyme nor reason, observing elders who gossip and/or watch meaningless serials and t.v. programmes, who have no themes/topics for discussion beyond films, fashion, food, in such a bleak scenario, who is to be blamed?
They live, moreover, in a hugely inter-netted world. A constant deluge of information about everything from everywhere is drowning them. They are hence not naïve. The innocence of their vision is also taken away from them while they watch the inane serials along with the elders or by the comics they are (made) addicted to.
They are, moreover, 'given'(!??!) Freedom, but are they introduced to discipline and the sense of responsibility that comes along with it? Indulging a child, I believe, is constantly communicating with him/her, talking/listening to him/her, not merely splurging money in an orgy, which would merely increase the consumer base of all sorts of TNC's!
Finally, given the limitations of space in a blog, and the attention span of a typical reader, may I conclude that ideal children require the i-deal treatment. No wonder, even in mythology, there was only one Arjuna amongst so many siblings and cousins! Old problem, in brief, in search of new remedies, right? Hence the title of the blog today!
Pratima@our children are our reflections, not to forget the refractions!
The youngsters today in the age group of fifteen to thirty five are in extremely difficult, tough,trying contexts. Let us first define the inner/outer boundaries. It is around fifteen that the world enters viciously in the cocooned existence of the typical upper middle class Child. Nam to suna hi hoga! The board exams! Till that point, the educational system may not even have prepared the teenager properly for this trying trumpery. To this sense of inadequacy are added the changes, physical and psychological, induced by the hormonal changes. Life becomes confusion confounded!
Why thirty five? Due the fast advent of the Digital/AI revolution, the traditional notion of a permanent job is already evaporating in to thin air. Job hopping, a total change of careers/life goals, a dentist becoming a translator or a C. A. being a content developer, are extremely common. The jobs are very few,moreover.
The traditional 'relationships as a bolster' kind of support is disabled or it is sacrificed at the alter of event-baazi. Break-up's, separations, divorces, quite common currently, add to the constant tension. The personal is no longer pink, while the pink slip every Friday kind of American system is absolutely spreading its tentacles.
What are the ways out? Psychological hygiene in the form of yoga, dhyan can boost the emotional immunity, while up skilling constantly is the panacea indeed.Developing mentor relationships in both personal and professional contexts could help, I suppose. The most common important method,however, has to be the genuine friendship with one's own self! Humour helps a lot indeed. Troubled times need tough tactics!
Pratima@passively pray, actively reach out has to the strategy of those who care for the youngsters
Words used loosely can create unintended humour. There was this groom who wanted a bride. The advt, however, which he posted read, "wanted a wife". He apparently was drowned in a deluge of "take mine" messages! In the Post Truth world today, it is indeed difficult to ascertain the veracity of this 'event' which, however, points out two pertinent truths, namely, there are not any exact synonyms, and that every term has its own unique subtle shade of meaning.
The other point this p.j. makes, however dull, is not all so very stupid, nor exactly oh-so-very laughable either. These days, there are weddings galore, but how about marriages?
Weddings these days are an absolute event, and are thus managed. Be it the town, city or metro, beyond caste or creed, weddings have turned upside down the ancient paradigm of the "at least five days long" weddings of yesteryears. There is haldi, mehendi, and, oh, yes, sangeet wherein professional dancers train the future couple and all their relatives to groove to rather cheesy Bollywood songs! The bride may dance to "badnam hui"! The so-called bachelor's parties are riots of most all bad habits, and vices. No better are the bride's girlie parties. Why should boys have all the fun, they say, in a very aggressive way. Poor feminism! Rituals are not spared either. The actual muhurat mattereth not in the game of " up-liftin" the bride and the groom whose shoes go missing, too.
Garish glitzy sarees, gaudy, often, imitation jewellery, glinty phetas and pagari's, all of it looks very 'shining' in video shoots and endless selfies. Bollywood, like the McDonald-isation, is the ultimate leveller indeed
In such weddings, most all miss the marriage. The marriage of true minds is mostly a poetic impossibility now, I suppose. Marriage of conventions and convenience is now showcased in a gilded way as the event that costs a lot, and values nothing!
Pratima@why worry, nay, marry/wedding is trending!
Why this title? Is that what you are saying? Well, today, that is, November 21, is the World Television Day. A day, I would indeed say, that is genuinely important in the Post Truth world today.Just look around us. Every (non)issue gets blown out of proportion. Never ever is there the complete truth,as much is available, as much as is possible then and there, that is, accessible/possible. Given the prevalence of and easy access to the social media, the public space is full of opinions. Hence the credibility of the television becomes an important issue.
Given the ubiquity of the social media, even the concept of a citizen journalist is passé. Right now, everyone with a multimedia mobile is an expert, in fact, a university each. Almost matching the quality of most all educational institutions (honorable exceptions, if any, to exclude themselves from this generalisation, of course) is the Whatsapp or Facebook University! Given such unfortunate contexts, a public audio-visual medium can/should perform the role of the public intellectual.
May be, the corporatised TV is dedicated to "entertainment, entertainment, entertainment"! May be, even the debates subtly follow this pattern. Yet indirectly they do create a civil society, albeit not full throttle. The national TV may lack the funding, but their production values and truth quotient are better and more reliable.
The television can be a great educational tool as the EMRC programmes prove. During the pandemic, too, for the disenfranchised, it was often the only solace as Balbharati used to be once upon a long lost time.Though mostly it is " sound and fury/signifying nothing ", this is hoping to say, on the world television day, that the television would continue yo be of/by/for the people.
Pratima@let television lead to wide vision
With great technological advances and modern techniques, great pictures emerge as far as wildlife photography goes. Often I love to look at such pics.
What is remarkable, however, is the fact that the modernity of the mode/form is a vehicle for the feelings and emotions as ancient as ever. What is truly noteworthy , moreover, is the fact that even in the animal world, the eternal feel continues forever.
Of the best ten pictures in that series, there was this absolutely brilliant underwater picture of a mama otter teaching her baby to swim. The mother's stern expression, yet her concerned worry about the baby's safety, the love felt in her tender hug, the baby otter's fearful curiosity, the entire emotional drama, is beautifully captured in the brilliantly superb photo.
It reminded me of Aai's favourite most story, Raju's first day at the school. We were both sent to school early. So he was very small, never had lived even a moment away from her. The teacher apparently told her to let go of his hand, and go away. He started crying hugely. The teacher kept on telling her to go back home, and not even look back. Every step away from him was a punishment. Yet it had to done. The pic had the same motherly bitter-sweet expression.
Yet another lovely snap depicted two squirrels playing away to glory, lost to the rest of the world. The pic captures beautifully one twirling in the air upside down, and the other expectantly looking on to join in on the fun. Like two kids absorbed in to the make believe world of their joy filled game!
The most touching one, however, dealt with pain, the real eternal feel all species share forever. It revealed our Darwinian forefather, the eternal clown of the Green, with such hurt expression in every pore of his body wounded by some human contraption that I understood why artists, especially poets, are forever right, captured as the snap did the feel of the best songs being born of the bitterest sobs!
Pratima@ eternal emotions, forever art!
November 19 is indeed a unique day. Well, it is the International Men's day. During the supposedly post feminist era these days, the usual discussion on a day devoted to men sounds superfluous. Not in my opinion. Currently it is indeed much More needed, in fact.
Why? Because I believe that this 'not commercialised as yet' day can be used to enlist supposedly the essential qualities of the much maligned 'Man'. Who indeed is the real man? The macho Man? Certainly not. A Man with toxic masculinity? Of course, absolutely not. The Spider Man!?! He looks fine in the comic( s) pages alone! Is he the richie-rich chappie? Certainly not.
The real Man is first and foremost okay with himself. He does not need to flaunt anything, neither his brains, nor his achievements, nor his accomplishments, and certainly not his wealth , even when gotten honestly. He is certainly perfectly comfortable in his own skin. He hence needs no trophy girl to flaunt.
Beauty is skin deep, he knows. With the modern cosmetic advancements, it is very, very easy to look good, is the universal truth he is aware of. So the usual trappings of success hardly matter.
He is honest with himself and his close ones, for sure. He does not mind sharing household work. He may not change the nappie expertly, but he is ready to learn because he loves the Baby. He is, in brief, okay with the feminine, gentle, soft, mature side of himself.
Equally ready he is to accept others' self assertions, be it the children or the wife. Extremely supportive, he never allows anybody to insult anyone of his close ones. Neither his wife, nor mother nor sister(in-law), nor his in-(c)laws traditionally at loggerheads supposedly with each other, but actually with him, right?
A good guy, he may not gossip about politics, but would be active in the 'polis' duties of multiple varieties. A Good guy who is not a goodie-goodie, but ready to work on himself! Let us celebrate him on a day when a well-known leader cried openly in public because his wife was humiliated. What a genuine day indeed that breeds hopes for a (wo)Man made India!
Pratima@ Papa was such a Man, I think. In those days, looong, long ago, he chose to stand for his wife's respect in the family circle, was a wonderful father, and an ideal in his dreary profession.
Say the Vedas, "ekam sat, vipra: bahudha: wadanti." What does it mean? Loosely translated, the Sanskrit verse means "truth is eternally the same, whereas the wise ones enunciate it differently".
Indeed it is so. Tomorrow is the Guru Nanak Jayanti. So many of the Gurubani principles echo the ancient Vedic axioms and reverberate with the mediaeval Bhakti movement notions. No wonder, Sant Namdeo, a close associate/disciple and friend/soulmate of Sant Dnyandeva and a pillar of the Warkari panth, is revered in Punjab, too.
All the religions, for instance, believe in "simran", the "nam jap", the constant remembrance of the Lord, the eternal chanting of the holy name of the God . Each religion and every subsect advocates " kirat karo", that is, lead a life of honesty and piety through a living earned without any exploitation or fraud.
The number of sins may differ, but this difference in quantity cannot overlook the fact that the basic sinfulness consists of an impossible amalgam of ego, anger, greed, lust, attachment, for instance, as the evil incarnate.
Similarly, most all religions believe in the Guru as the guide who leads us along the right path with the truth as the ultimate destination. So many, in fact, are the echoes of each other in every religion that one wonders their followers fight each other.
Indeed, yes, that is another reason why I revere the memory of Aai-Papa. They brought us up to respect everybody. My Christian friend, Maria, visited us at the time of Diwali. I went to her place for Christmas. I had friends of all sects and religions. We were never ever brought up as boastful Brahmins.
Indeed, we were made to believe that first and foremost we were Indians. Just as Aai-Papa celebrated all the traditional festivals with zest and enthusiasm, the national days were followed with verve, too. Why, every Independence Day, each Republic Day, on each Tilak, Bhagat Singh, Gandhi, Nehru Jayanti, we had to participate with thorough preparation in essay/elocution competitions not only in the school, but also at home, amongst the three of us.
Now that "identity politics" debates are dividing the entire society along caste, sub caste, creed fault lines, no wonder, there is a societal earthquake daily that destroys much, so much!
Pratima@ "el tatva Nam"!
Remember that story By Aesop? The one about the old man, his son and their donkey? The human beings in this fable are stupider than their poor animal. The moral of the story is that one must absolutely ignore the fools who unnecessarily comment on you for no fault of yours because whatever you may do or do not do, however(well or otherwise) you may do the perceived action, the brainless creeps with truck loads of time and surely nothing else to do(or, may be, they are paid for their 'hard' - in all the senses of the term - work, so it is their piddly little source of any income at all) are forever going to yak away.
What kind of foul fools love to comment on others? What, and how, must be their psychopathology? Even Freud, too, would love to avoid them, I suppose. That precisely is the point. What exactly to do to stop their brainless blabber, their mindless blubber?
In the world today, it is no use being Sant Eknath who bathed back so many times that the person throwing shit at him got finally tired. No, one is not exactly afraid of Corona in the process, but of the capricious cupidity of the cowards! Their cruelty would not know any bounds, especially if harassing is their source of income.
At times one feels it is necessary to confront them because evil must not be allowed unhindered. The best bet, however, is locating the exact Master(without a)mind, and blasting him/her, however powerfool!
Pratima@Dogs would bark as an elephant passes by. Instead of wasting his energy on the curs, he walks on, while they go mad barking!That used to be the sage advice of Aai-Papa!
The day after every major Chaturdashi, that is to say, the Four Major Ones, Ashadhi, Kartiki, Maghi and Chaitri, I used to prepare a Sweet, almost always, gavachi kheer ( a kind of wheat pudding) because Aai used to feel it would be the "parane" (celebrating the day after the fast). I indulged her always as Pandharpur was her 'Maher', and our birthplace, too. Indeed I never ever forget the fact that I was born at "Pandharpur"! That is an aside though. The wheat pudding, moreover, would be a treat to somebody like me, a person with a huge sweet tooth. I think, it reminded Aai of her Aai.
It was with that feel that I prepared the sweet, just a bowlful, today. On such occasions, I experience a curious emotion. One is almost performing a ritual in her memory, and yet I continue to feel that she is still very much there, may be, has just gone out for her singing class/her bhajan meet or, may be, to Raju-Sanju's place.
Yet again then, one is like a child lost at the fair, full of star attractions and yet absolutely lonely. I had once read/told Aai the Premchand story that dealt with this theme, a poor child who initially would want all the goodies in the fair, and when he was lost, his only wish was to be reunited with his parents. I discussed the symbolism in the story, too, how the fair is the world with loveliest attractions, while the final wish would be a reunion with parents, the God figure.
Memories! Eternal they are. Never leave you alone for a moment. They are both, very much desired, and yet hauntingly hurtful. Life goes on, and yet is a stasis, too! Long live/love the sweet/salt feel, memory!
Pratima@each happiness of yesterday is a memory for today, tomorrow, and forever!
The Small little blog today refers to three events in the course of the day. They are unrelated in a way, and yet they share an unmistakable connect.
The first of these three was the online/offline mixed mode "performance" of a lecture. In a way, it gives "a local habitation and a name" to voices heard/unheard/partially heard, depending on the whims and fancies of the great internet. Yet the feel of being filmed constantly gives you heebie-jeebies in the complex realities today.
The second one is the end of the "chatur mas". Prakash Mama sent a lovely photo and a still More beautiful video of Lord Panduranga. Unbelievably ecstatic, the visuals reminded me that with Kartiki Ekadashi would begin the Tulasi Vivah, which ends the avoidance of onions and garlic, a great relief for an average and lazy cook like me. Aai could whip up brilliant, superbly tasty dishes without a slice of onion or a garlic pearl. But lesser mortals of my type-n- variety find great help in the inborn tastes of tomatoes, onions and garlics.
The third One is the passing away of B.M. Purandare. A narrator par excellence, he brought the times of Shivaji Maharaj alive in our times. Despite scandals and attacks, his contribution is unmistakable and remarkable.
All these incidents present an end, a completion, and not always unhappy. Meeting at least a few students face to face is a greet feel. Still greater is the mesmerising vision of Vithala, while the likes of Purandare stand for passion. Meaning making, in brief!
Pratima@passion maketh perfection!
November 14 in my opinion is a day when we should awaken yet again the lost Child in all of us. The obvious question then that emerges is what exactly is being a child. Clean curiosity, not the one that killed the cat, of course, is what the prime time called childhood allows us. As children are looking at the whole world with fresh eyes, they are most eager to know everything, they are ready to make mistakes in the process without any fear of failure or any sense of shame. To maintain that innocent, that is, free of any criminal/negative associations, curiosity in adulthood is the best step forward towards creativity.
Creativity is the only rulebook children know. Their thoughts, ideas, concepts are afresh with novelty. Absolutely nothing is jaded about them, neither the body, nor the mind, nor the soul. Hence all children are geniuses, though very few can carry that unique, special something in to the later life.
Similarly, children are so busy being and becoming that they have no time for being jealous, mean, nasty, cheap, and the list can go on infinitely. The very company of a child is hence such an energizing tonic that the whole real world cannot enfeeble you.
Yet another trait one must borrow from childhood is joy. They are eternally happy and joyful, forever bubbling with smiles and laughter. Softer than the silken touch is this gentle joy of theirs bursting from every pore of their being.
Their ability to love endlessly is infinite. A pet dog would be the only competitor they may have in this aspect. The parental ill-treatment, too, cannot coarsen them. They continue to be eternally affectionate, loving, and completely credulous.
Nothing in this world is as totally elevating an experience as a child holding your finger in his small fist or a child fast asleep, nestling his neck against your shoulder, with a total sense of security. That gentle touch, that unique body fragrance, that sudden angelic smile for no rhyme nor reason, that is heaven on earth.
Such panegyrics, absolutely deserved, can go on and on. Today is yet another reminder, an urgent wake-up call that these superb traits should continue lifelong.
Pratima@child is indeed the father of man
In one's life, often one comes across people who are unnecessarily vicious. One would not have bothered them in any way at all. Yet they consciously choose to target one. They have a vicious streak, and sure it is full of vicious tricks.
How to deal with such persona? The best alternative is to avoid them like the Corona virus itself. Like it, they, too, are invisible, and hyper dangerous. Unlike the poor Corona virus, they are a gang, the mafiosi who love indulging in groupism. Eternally busy with scratching each other's back, they know within themselves that One needs to is alienated, and consciously.
Why should though one be thus alienated at all? If they think of themselves as if they were the O'Brien of Orwell's '1894', the best way is to get away from their crushing of others viciously. I suppose, caring for your dreams that were nurtured by you and your loved ones would light up the path forever. Well, for the peace of one's own self, better to forget them forever, though the very goodness embedded in a balanced universe would see to it in its own just way that even they themselves would not be able to forgive themselves!Amen!
Pratima@ A person knowingly behaving viciously with one is actually howling that one shares the bottomless sadness within that vicious person!
Literature has always been a space that makes one's point of view truly spacious and deletes all that is specious in us or ours. Even in that inherently generous and palliative context, there are certain authors, reading whom is not merely a joy. It is indeed an education.
The opening up of our consciousness and conscience by their writings need not always be goody-goody and optimistic and/or positive. Instead, certain authors' deep texts rush us to the very brink of a chasm that has no bottom at all. Such a read is always an eye-opener. The Russian author, Fyodr Dostoevsky, whose bicentenary falls on November 11, is one such genius reading whom is indeed an exploration of the very existence.
His dark novels, which reflect in a way his own extremely difficult days lifelong, show up the reality, warts and all. A great realist, both stylistically as well as psychologically, he indeed would be the first author to depict the wounded selves and the fractured realities. He shows us the flip side of existence. Very local and yet truly universal he was!
In his own times, his was a very modern thinking that critiqued the traditional Euro- mania, the obsession with the "progressive" Europe of the big and mighty of his times. Instead, he chose to deify the real folk Russian-ness. Though his move might now be dismissed as "deshivad", as " nativism", in his times, it was a radical, modernising critique of the status quo. Dostoevsky is, in brief, a deeply unsettling, but richly rewarding author.
Let us end this tribute to him with a few of his quotes: Hell for him is the "inability to love", a plight our self obsessed times would easily relate to. " Man only counts," he writes in a very knowing way,"his misfortunes, never his happinesses." True indeed! No wonder, he felt, "to go wrong in one's way", the swadharma followed in a non-religious way so to say, " is better than to go right in someone else's".
Pratima@at such times, I thank Aai-Papa from the bottom of my heart for not blasting my fascination with Literature!
The moment we think of a day related to education, we think of either the Guru Poornima or September 5, the day dedicated to teachers. Actually, today, too, is a very important day in the educational field. Wonder why? Let me explain, and in some detail.
Actually today happens to be the National Education Day of India. It is celebrated in the memory of independent India's first Education Minister, Maulana Abdul Kalam Azad. It is indeed very interesting to note that, of the three days related to education, two are tributes to two towering personalities.
Education is indeed a vision that broadens our perspectives. Education teaches us how to develop a "thought-full" mindset of our very own. Such a thinking mind is not swayed by any conflicting ideologies. Such a mind, moreover, has a calibrating power that can see through all sorts of pretensions, lies and chicaneries. In the much advertised/debated/discussed Post Truth World today, such a capacity is absolutely essential for the sanity of the very society.
Education, in brief, is not a degree. Neither is it a set syllabus that helps you acquire a given skill set. It is a way that makes us self reflexive about our own thought patterns, our own models of action, our very own modes and/or philosophies of life, or the lack thereof. A truly educated mind, hence, would never be opinionated, partial, hateful, demonising any contrarian idea(s). We have indeed a very long way to go in that direction. Hence the more days assigned to education, the meatier and the mightier, and as a result, the merrier!
Pratima@lead me from darkness to light, from untruth to truth, and from mortality to the immortal.
To teach or not to teach, that is not the question. In fact, the real problem is whether they learn or do not learn. That is because all the teaching/learning is yet online. The real question hence is to teach or not to teach, online!
Who is afraid of offline teaching? Actually, every stakeholder in the academic context is now bored to tears. Teachers are tired of teaching to faceless screens. Students miss the much dreaded peer pressure, actually the peer(less) fun! Parents would be happy to have the brat making life hell, away from the home-n-hearth, at least for sometime! Advantages of the claustrophobic feel, such as the MCQ exam granting geniusdom(dumb, actually) to one and all, and that, too, without any hard work, are much, much fewer!
The real problem is that everything else, being revenue (re)sources, is (out in the) open. Education, the poor relative ever, since the days of Dronacharya, for instance, continues to be the (experi)mental(!!?!!) ground. Conveniently, moreover, one can continue to call the acharya all sorts of names, too!
Cast (note the spelling please, before beginning some, often timepass, protest!) on the computer mode/mad(e), online teaching/learning has already lost the glitz-n-shine of e-lectr(on)ic excuses that valiantly bore the brunt of every absence. One could wake up late, for instance,and, while lolling in the bed, call the lecture a drone while enjoying hot tea/coffee all along. The internet connection could conveniently evaporate into thin air the moment the teacher asked an inconvenient question, for instance.
No loss, no gain though! If Diwali ends with the usual fanfare, can offline lectures be far behind?🤣
Pratima@no offline education, no fun!
Poignantly remembered Aai-Papa yet again today. Well, I was reading up on Uttarakhand, the youngest(am not sure though) state in India. It is known for its pristine beauty, what with the Valley of Flowers and most all perfect peaks of the Himalayan range.
For Aai-Papa, it was "devbhumi", too. Neither of them was a fanatically religious person. Yet, they were after all an upper middle class Brahmin couple of the erstwhile generation. They were hence spiritual and devout enough to like the " devbhumi" aspect as well. Both of them went on the Chardham Yatra, the sacred pilgrimage in the lap of the Himalayas. Both loved the experience. Both would share titbits of these spiritually charged experiences.
Aai used to feel elated whenever I showed her gorgeous pics of or some documentary on the Kedarnath Mandir. She would share the "kandi" experience. She loved the clean sparkle and the natural music of the Ganges and its tributaries there. She would talk of the Pandavas' journey to the "param dham", the ultimate destination, there. In her opinion, the scenario near Kedarnath was such that the possibility seemed absolutely real. Indeed, I have already written of how both felt the actual presence of Shiva there.
She was absolutely unhappy to hear of the floods, and she could visualise the huge boulder that saved the Temple. She often talked of the grand " nandi" there. Both of them were aware of Shankaracharya's great contribution. Why, after his Chardham Yatra, Papa actually visited Kaladi in Kerala where the great sage was born.
Well, the Mandir (I drew it as a greeting card to celebrate her wonderful journey, while during his journey there, I wrote him letters that surprised him with their accuracy because they used to be there waiting for him) would eternally be there; whatever impairment it must have suffered due to the natural disaster would get re-built. Neither Aai nor Papa would again be there though to discuss the "punya bhumi"! Oh, the Himalayan loss to me!
Pratima@spiritual is beyond the religious.
During the Diwali, did you notice something? Actually, these days, it is a usual phenomenon, but one tends to notice it more during the festival. Wonder what I am referring to? Well, have you, too, noticed that these days, both in the public spaces and in the private spheres, there is a lot of goody-goody talk, but that is just the veneer, all gloss and no substance, just scratch a little and the entire rot is visible in the worst possible ways, and the ugliest details!
My submission today is that wor(l)ds are getting showoffs. People are living in mirror houses wherein they see and/or want to see infinite reflections and refractions of the self through mirrors that are both convex and concave while being flat.
Even the so-called feel-good stories circulating ad infinitum on the social media are pogroms of one variety or the other. There is so much of demonization of the "other" , be it persons or ideologies, or whatever, that one wonders if most all people crave to live in echo chambers! A "differ-ence" is always 'deferred' because NOBODY, however much they pretend to be otherwise, is interested in "listening " , especially to a contrary opinion.
Mock, for example, of the most cruel, vicious, mean variety, most often carried out systematically, is being posed as 'fun'. In my opinion, all such varieties of narcissism are getting center staged because relationships are rotting under the garb of bonhomie. Relationships hence are fragile and febrile,and moribund as a result. Such relationship retardation is creating a society at the tether, not together; a society that is anti-social! Something is indeed rotten in the 'state' (in all senses of the term, psychological, political, financial, academic, name it and you have it), to quote the Prince of Denmark!
Pratima@endless are Cassandra cries!
Now that the Diwali festival is over, we better get back to the mundane and rather rude reality. Undoubtedly, personally, the festival this year was tragic for me, and our family, as Aai sadly succumbed to a heart attack in March, 2021.
Overall though, fervor was the feel of the festival as feelings fizz(l)ed out, bottled up as they were since March, 2020. Here is keeping fingers crossed while hoping that the dreaded disease does not stage a vicious comeback in the form of a feared third wave!
Why think of diseases post-Diwali? Is that your question? Well, there is a reason behind my attempt. Let me try and explain it. November 7 marks the birth anniversary of Marie Curie, one of my childhood heroines. Almost a century ago, despite every possible setback/handicap, and what have you, this two time Nobel Prize Winner in two different disciplines invented radium and polonium. This mother of the radioactive procedure was the ultimate saviour for millions of cancer patients whose number seems to increase by the day even in developing countries.
In a country like ours, for example, life style generated cancers affect citizens from all the societal strata. Let us take the example of smoking. In rural and/or poverty stricken citizenry, the habit of smoking with the burning tip of the bidi in the mouth is pretty common. It is as harmful as the triple five brand chain smoking. Drinks and/or doing drugs is yet another horrible habit common across age, sex, region, religion,language, class, creed kind of barriers. As a result, mouth, lung and stomach cancers are rampant in India.
Marie Curie showed us humane ways to overcome such human failings that lead to a kind of autoimmune rebellion by the body against the self. Here is wishing such truly dreadful habits die, and every patient survives with Dignity and Hope intact.
Pratima@no glass barriers can cage a genius!
If any one particular festival were to represent all of Aai's unique qualities, it had to be Bhaubeej. The morning would begin with the lovely and auspicious shehnai renditions by Bismilla Khan. She would play that L.P. record every Diwali day, and she was rather proud of the fact that Lane Number 12, Mukund Nagar would wake up with that shehanai, played softly but surely.
Next, she would draw superb rangolis. Her designs used to be unique. Once, for example, she had drawn Vithoba, and the depiction was perfect. Why, she could draw rangoli patterns on water!
Breakfast of all her Diwali specials (superb used to be her kadboli's, chaklya and Shankarpali's, all the extremely tough to prepare kind of items, but she was a very good cook, anyways), she would begin the Bhaubeej special dishes. It used to be the perfect preparation, with all the salads, lemon slice, pickles, papad, kurdaya, bhajji, special potato veggie, masale bhat, unique amti, all perfectly served the right way in the dish. Hyper tasty the preparations used to be, given her special masala. As the Chaturmas would not yet be over, she would use neither onion nor garlic, and yet manage to create wonders.
Superb would be the main dish. As it used to be the last day of Diwali, all the difficult dishes would fall to her lot. She did not mind preparing pakatale chirote, puran poli and gulab jamun, jilabi-mattha type of tough dishes for thirty odd people. It was for her labour of love. Aai-Papa loved to serve with heart felt agrah. There would be a special pangat for children, and the second one for the elders, both full of laughter and mirth. It would be almost three-ish by the time her pangat with one or two Mami's would begin.
All along, Papa and Mama's would play 'bridge', while children would be up to all sorts of games in the front and the back yard. Her special lemon grass and ginger tea along with the Diwali special faral over, girls would begin getting ready.
Our bedroom would turn in to a make up, vanity room. Our Jimmy, crackers terrorised, would be hiding under the bed. His huge, curvy tail would get trampled on, but he would not yelp, forget his usual growl. After an hour or so, all the cousins would emerge real decked up, like the beauties in a pageant.
Aai and Mami's would get a few minutes to get ready. Aai loved wearing her trademark nath, her favourite item of jewellery. The ceremony would continue for hours with tremendous revellery.
The crackers bursting later with Arun Mama special distribution, the day would thus get over at about ten, but the memories would linger on. Like they do now, and forever. Let me end with "Ah, to face Bhaubeej again, but without her/Now that Diwali is here", a take on Browning's Celebration of the unique British summer that would always return, but never Aai!
Pratima@ Bhaubeej is Aai, Aai is Bhaubeej!
Today is the Padva. As the myth lets us know, the batu-avatar "Vamana" of Vishnu cut to size the mighty king. Why did it happen? I suppose, that was because King Bali's focus shifted. For him, it was not enough to be a good king much loved by his citizenry. Much more important was to control the whole world, and still more important for him was his jealousy, his envy, his desire to belittle those who had not harmed him in any way.
Indeed that always is the case. The moment our focus shifts, the moment we waver from our life goals, our values, given our desire to destroy some one else, we dig a pit for ourselves, in which we fall, and thus fail, in the final analysis, ourselves.
Focus matters in relationships, too. If in a marriage, for example, the desire to control the partner becomes much more dominant, rather than the togetherness as a couple, as a pair, the marriage is finished, and what becomes much more important is the contest by the second to belittle, to humiliate, to finish off the other. Actually in such a process, the belittler is belittled, is finished off.
In other words, focus makes, while the lack thereof, mars, in each and every field, be it sports, be it academics, be it creativity. Hence on this auspicious day, let us pledge to ourselves to never allow our focus to shift. Thus can we predict, and over-rid(e), all sorts of tsunamis, personal and/or professional.
Pratima @focus forms fecundity
On the Laxmi Poojan day, it is indeed a valid question to ask. What is wealth? Is it the show of money mean(ingless)ness as exhibited in abundance? Not really, in my opinion.
Creativity, I think, is the real wealth. During the festive season, it is abundantly visible in rangoli patterns. What a riot of designs, formations, colours, flower petals, with a diya in the centre to complete the feel! During Diwali, such an abundance of creative wealth is visible in paper lanterns as well. They literally compete with the lovely stars and the attractive fireworks up there in the sky.
Love, in my opinion, however is the real wealth. Neither death nor distance diminishes it. It continues as ever.
It includes the affection of our pets, especially dogs, I would say. What do we do for a dog? Not much except give him food bits. Many owners are soon irritated with the responsibility. Never does the dog disown the master though. He continues to love the very household.
Our pet's love for us keeps us in extremely elevated company such as Ulysses. When Ulysses returned to Ithaca, adventures battered and weather beaten, nobody could recognise him. Neither did Penelope who had to put up all sorts of ruses to remain his. The only two to recognise the real Ulysses, hidden beneath the shabby exterior, were his dog and his mother substitute, his nanny. The real sources of true love!
Pratima@genuine love is the real wealth!
