Trick or treat

 What must be the reason why a so-called progressive, modern country indulges in the Halloween? The proper Halloween parades are a procession full of traditional "brass band" troupes, an ancient black car with black balloons that the devil may indeed love as his dark chariot of the evil, beauties with pom-pom's, and their acrobatic performances. A customary, salutory throw back to traditions and native American culture.

Why does"foul is fair" sound so very attractive to the common American mindset? Are the seeds sown in history? Imagine the anxieties, fears and worries of the founding fathers who left the mother land, the European continent an ocean away to settle down in an totally unknown, different shore that must appear strange to them. As they started spreading westward, the very lie of the land, the very fauna and flora must have been threatening. May be, that fear, as ancient as the Salem witchcraft, tries to exorcise itself through the Halloween? Or is it an attempt to imitate the dark forces of Nature so as to app-ease them?

In 2020, however, the Corona virus has been playing 'trick', and the whole world had to be 'treat'ed. Was it the 'trick' of the Wuhan lab? Without any medical 'treat' for some time?!? Or was it the 'trick' of the pharmaceutical MNC's who 'treat'ed themselves to quite some mollah?Hope the dreaded 'third wave' plays no 'trick' so that life continues to 'treat' us normal!

Pratima@'treat' thyself and others fair so that natural/universal justice plays no 'trick' against thee!

Contact intact

 Online teaching is quite some adventure. Constantly one keeps worrying about the contact remaining intact. That proposition includes literally a hell...lot of things. Missing is the live contact with the students. Worrisome enough! Much worse is yet another contact or the lack thereof. For a teacher what can be worse than the lack of the live-ly touch of the real classroom, you are saying? Oh, yes, there is when it comes to online teaching. 

It happens to be the internet connect. Well, the connect with the students never breaks, if you are a good enough teacher and if at least half the class is sincere enough. Both these conditions are easy to fulfil. Even the digi-generation kids are genuine and sincere, despite the post-truth era they grew up in.

The internet connect, however, is a terror. It goes and comes, rather then the other way round.  Hidden inside are many a mystery. Why does the contact did (dis)appear? Why would the wifi not connect? If it does, which viruses would it carry along? Which programme would fail when, and how? Much More mysterious the maze is when compared to the hell itself!

I experienced both today. The internet was playing hide and seek even on the College premises. But the brand new batch never deserted the online classroom, despite the multiple interruptions till normalcy was restored across the campus. 

It is a wonderful feel when yet again a new batch revives your gut feelings as a teacher. Long live the lowly paid profession! Sure it would,  despite the mook/mock distractions! Lots of Joy emerges when such primal patterns emerge, and passionately!

Pratima@my heart leaps up when see I a good net@ teaching

Denial is always exciting

 Let Someone Say 'no' to you, chances are that you would hanker after whatever is denied to you. That is the way an average mind works, it seems.

Oh, yes, denial always appears exciting. Look at the drug saga unfurling on the multi Channel t.v. There are many a wise magi out there who believe that if drugs were legalised, they would lose their dangerous allure, though, of course, more than half of the Punjabi Youth would be a trágic counter proof to this stupid  assertion.

In fact, as an expert was saying it on one of the many channels chewing the weed of the sexily jazzed up scandal, the way the lawyers of the Star Putra argued, more than sixty thousand young Punjabis languishing in  prisons for the same crime, a fact assertively corroborated even by the ex-chief-minister of the state, must also be granted both, bail and general amnesty from a 'defaming', as the lawyer mafia working for the oh-so-innocent twenty three old Star 'kid' maintain, trial and/or punishment. Better send three fourths of Punjab to the rehabilitation camp. At least, prisons will be empty! 

See the assertive power of negation? Actually, just a few days ago, the Star Papa had gone viral in which he casually said that his son should smoke, do weed and worse drugs, and so on. So suddenly why this breast beating that has drawn government institutions to  politics to religion in to a cesspool of ugly shamelessness and p(r)etty piddly posing?

Honestly, I lost all my respect for a famous lyricist, who laughing knowingly,  smirked that politics is happening, and how, in this country, while completely ignoring the tens of thousands of unhappy, and not so well connected, parents whose children are falling prey to the glamourised drug cartels/ syndicate. What an unhappy, brazen hypocrisy! If such are the public intellectuals, so callous, so casual about sensitive issues, so thoughtless in third rate politicking  and posing, then, indeed, cry, my beloved country! A sensitive, intelligent Person would have used that truly coarse, crude hangama to weed out "weed", alcohol, denied substances, ruining relationships, families, individuals, worse than even a war!

It is such shallow thinkers (phew!) who create films in which a nay-saying girl is shown to be actually hankering after the hero's(!) 'yes'! No wonder, in our irresponsible societal space, denial is ever sexed up!

Pratima@ idiot talks/full of sound and fury/signifying nothing!

Gana aye ya na aye

 Each one of us has a favourite song of his or her own. Why do we like it? Try asking your family, friends or acquaintances why they like a particular song. Interesting answers would emerge.

Most people like a particular song because their favourite 'hero'(mind you, most often , not the actor) or "heroine" is performing (in) it on the screen. The charm of fandom most often goes in to the making of the appeal of a song.

A possible reason could be that the song belongs to a much loved film. In other words, the song is an 'open sesame' to a wonderful world. The song encapsulates vividly the unique world of that special film.

Yet another reason is that the song is associated with a deep seated, unforgettable memory of an event or a person. In other words, a favourite song acts more like a mnemonic.

Some people may like a song for its melody. The unique appeal of the melody could be due to the voice of the singer, its fragile delicacy, its soft tremor, its honesty, its openness, a certain something in the rendering which makes it the 'his/her master(ful)'s voice'.

At times, a more musically aware, ear trained listener may like a song because it uses a particular unusual musical instrument or a special folk tune or a unique raga.

The next stage   would be that certain listeners may like the music composer or the music director as he is Known in the common parlance.  Such listeners appreciate the nuances of the unique combo of the sur/the tune, the swara/the voice quality, the tal/rhythm that go in to the making of a signature tune of a music director.

Very few, almost a miniscule minority of one per cent, appreciate a song for its lyrical quality, its superb literary qualities, the way the poet has managed to create a world through the words that may be simple yet ornate, meaningful and precious.

That in a way is the tragedy of literature, and especially of poetry, a superb creation that a meagre handful choose to understand and appreciate. Poetry, always a "violet by the mossy stone/half hidden from the eye", sensitises existence with insights, ethics, imagination, integrity, beauty, word power, and everything else that is subtle and superb. All that is love's labour, and is never lost!

Pratima@our sweetest songs are made by our greatest minds/to whom the world is rarely kind.

The fault in our stars

 Whom to blame when things go, and as they often do, wrong? Even if human beings would love to, they cannot blame others. Oh, no, not because they are truly kind-hearted, and hate to blame others. No, not at all. Basically, this route is avoided because of the fear of retribution. 

A scapegoat, however, is necessary because very few human beings have the intellectual honesty to blame their own faults and/or mistakes. It is the stars that come handy in such sticky situations. It is oh so very convenient to thus shoo(t) out the poor stars, as they can hardly defend themselves against us or our faults.

Actually what can balls of helium/oxygen, and hydrogen, if any, do to human destinies, zillions of light years away as they are from us? With (such) distance grows the heart fonder, I suppose! Thus we find the fault in our stars.

As our dear Shakespeare asserted it some four hundred and fifty years ago, the fault, however, never lies in our stars. Mostly, it is us, our mistakes, our perceptions, our prejudices that go wrong, that create the mischief. Yes, the context is out of sync at times. An example could be the pandemic period. Most human beings were left homeless, rendered jobless, with death literally staring them in the face. Even then,  the pandemic was actually due to human errors  and mistakes, right?

Hence this intellectual/mental shake hand with the stars  that are us, in us, because in the blame game we pass on our frailties on to them. Long live stars, in all the meanings of 'long' indeed!

Pratima@ stars and planets/are trinkets/blamed for our faults/from afar  'bearing' the human taunts!

Gentle as the breeze, strong as the hills

 Today on her seventh mensual death anniversary, let me remember some of  her early days. 

Due to Papa's honesty and genuine sincerity, there used to be many transfers in his job. Suddenly, in their early married days, Papa was transferred to Bijapur, a very tough stay for her as in that muslim dominated town, women were not even allowed anywhere near the dehliz.Nor did she know Hindi well.

Then suddenly there was a transfer to Nanded, so very far way from her maternal home, Pandharpur. The only daughter of a big family, she had never stayed alone so far away. She was hardly twenty three-ish.

Then at Nanded in the seventh month of her first pregnancy, she developed a very high fever. The doctor was sure the baby would not survive. Papa somehow nursed her back to some normalcy. 

The doctor clearly told them that she must not travel. So in the first fortnight of the ninth month of her first pregnancy, they had to travel in the horrible April heat from Nanded to Pandharpur on a meter gauge train. Those days she used to be very thin.

The very thought brings tears to my eyes. Such, such were the times then that after reaching Pandharpur in that terrible condition,  two/three weeks later, she *walked*  (!!!!!)in to the hospital for her first delivery! 

Raju was born exactly a year later. Things were comparatively much easier this time, but by that time, Papa was transferred to Nashik.

That year, it was so cold in Nashik that birds, she told me, fell off branches,  dead due to cold. Must have been difficult bringing up a new born baby and a year old daughter in that condition. In a way, Papa took over my responsibility.

Neither Aai nor Papa ever complained of their difficult lot. Neither she nor he bitterly criticised the elders who misbehaved with them both, every which way, emotional to financial.

Instead, she came up with very creative solutions to every problem. So what if there was no mixer, she could prepare idli batter in her own unique way!

They had a big box to pack up all the what-not's, as there were constant transfers. It Used to double up as the sofa, very neatly put!

They were never stingy. But they knew the value of money. They sure had to, of course!

She never once bothered him for new sarees, jewellery, and such stuff. Was always content. Instead, she herself used to stitch lovely clothes.

They both tried everything for us, often sacrificing their comfort in the process.For our education, they chose to live apart, she taking care of three children, growing up, and he living all alone in awful places due to the transfers.

But her jolly temperament never much diminished. They both had a zest for life.Neither showed it, but both were hyper senti.

Things must have been really tough often, but no complaints, no regrets.

They celebrated their living in their own simple but meaningful way. Indeed gentle as the breeze and yet strong as the hills was she, my Aai, and her consort, Papa

Pratima@parent proud 

Wiw

 What do you think?Have I misspelt the word in the title? Do you think that I do not know the spelling of the simple most word 'wow' ? Nah, your guesses are all wrong. Of course, I know 'wow', and how! And, yet, I have chosen the title "wiw"?!?

Well, the title is a mock at the facile, almost silly, use of that phase " working woman" that is often tossed about in a truly meaningless way. Saw this pic  of an actress gloating about how she is a working woman even after child birth. She was gassing on, holding forth to equally stupid fashion photographers screaming away to glory, "Mam, this side!" All along, the Baby was held by the nanny! Even for a pic-op, the "wiw" lady, whom all were gushing about, did not hold the Baby. As if , "sexi"ly showing off the baby bump, posing in funky leotards while "carrying" the baby made a woman a working mother! As it is, she is in a glam profession. True, it has its travails. Yet zipping in and out of funky cars, while lesser mortals did all the dirty work, hardly makes a female a working woman.

For sure, not. In fact, such stupid show-off mocks the backbreaking work of a real working mother. She has to singlehandedly cater to household duties, look after every minute need of the baby, leave her in the creche while her own heart is twisting with paroxysms of guilt, work full time in a tough job. If this is the reality of a metro/city woman, can you imagine the plight of the  new mother in the rural context, busy with home, hearth,  and farm workload? 

A token use of the female roles while using to hilt one's feminity is hardly being a working mother. Such convenient tokenism suits all, especially the consumerist market forces, supported ably by the patriarchal discourses. This is "within is wonky", " wiw" feminism, rampant in all fields! Sad is the involved simplified presentation of womanhood, most suitable to consumerism, and its pater familias, the omni-potent finance capitalism!

Pratima@ eve's fig leaf/for status quoist forces a sheaf!

Dam(n)

 Yesterday on a research group, there was this message and an appeal regarding a Kerala dam. It is Known as Mullaperiyar dam. Built near the confluence of two rivers, this dam is one  of the oldest in the dam(n) history.

You may wonder why I am repeatedly using the term dam(n) in our blog. Well, reading up on the age old contraption was rather scary.  It was built more than a century ago. It is built with limestone. Already, it is depleting by the second. No real action for decades though!

Involved in the entire debate is a lease from the colonial era. According to this lease emerges a quarrel between two states regarding resources (re)distribution. Whatever might be the terms and conditions, they indeed need to be immediately negotiated.

Apparently the aging and sick (in all senses of the term) structure, a la gravitational pull and in an earthquake prone region, is hyper dangerous because in the basin below are other dams that are sure to get affected by the ticking water bomb. 

Reading up the entire history, the debate even in basic outline form, is sure to send shivers down the spine. Having read about the Panshet dam burst, the Sangli-Kolhapur terror last year, the Chiplun/Konkan tragedy this year, not to forget the Malin type of landslides, no wonder, the only response possible is dam(n)! Hope wisdom prevails sooner, and not at all later! Death (of a dam, too,) is indeed irreversible!

Pratima@pray against the prey!

I argue, therefore I exist

 The title of the blog today is a take off on the famous assertion by Descartes, the famous French philosopher, who argued,"I think, therefore I am." My submission, on the contrary, as reflected in the title, is something that Amartya Sen hopefully would accept, given the title of his famous treatise.

"Wade, Ware, jayate Sat," says our ancient tradition which means that the truth would emerge through deliberations. True it is indeed. Discussion, deliberations determine aspects of truth, at least partially. 

What should be the nature of such debates? This afternoon was listening to a discussion , wherein the learned scholar quoted the Nyaya typology of debates, namely, vad, vivad, and vitanda. The vad would consist of students asking questions to teachers. Vivad would be two scholars arguing a moot point,while vitanda is a sophisticated name for Oral fracas.

Samvada, in my opinion,  is the need of the hour. Samvad is, however, more spoken about, than actually practised. It requires active, total, empathetic listening.It makes a person negotiate in a sensitive and sensible way. That should be the signature style. Thus would end many a trouble indeed!

Pratima@ be like the custard apple, rough n tough outside, sweeter than the sweetest within!

No means no!

 I watch the "crime patrol". Well, Something Funny in your opinion? Sorry, I do not think so. Sure, as some citizens point out, the police are never this efficient. The programme, in my opinion, tells us how to stay a step  ahead of the criminals. 

And There are aplenty in real life, beginning with horrid neighbours trespassing, poaching your small little garden when you go out to buy vegetables, groceries or to college, to weirdos harassing you for fun! The worst ones are those cheapies, the creeps refusing to take a "no" for an answer.

Well, this programme showed this small town girl, goodness and sincerity personified. Her only problem, her mistake indeed, is that she is attractive! Guys keep on falling in 'Love' while she goes hoarse telling everyone about  her academic purposes, her desire to excel in her profession as her prime goal.

Utterly false rumours about her doing the rounds, her academic/professional chances consciously ruined, life is made hell for her, it ending with her death at the hands of her 'lover' as she politely repeats her 'no'!

What is this inability to accept a no, to accept that xyz is absolutely Normal, has a creative routine, but  the Person is not interested in a relationship with you! Only men have Male ego trampling over others' simple , genuine lives? How about others' democratic right to live, to blossom, but NO! How does one deal with such a trap? Indeed simple question, but tough answers!

Pratima @ no means no!

Stupid Jealousy

 Tell me how jealousy is bred.

The head or heart does it trade?

Sure on the envier ever it preyed.

The poor dear of herself is sure scared!

This morning I could hear on the phone a vicious monologue, rather stupid, about the contact and its Name/Title saved by the Person concerned or her husband. The lady was least concerned about the fact she and her silly self revealing  could be heard miles across. It was both laughable and disgusting. Hence I penned this quatrain.

Pratima @ Negativity maketh THEE/ a monkey!

The birth of poetry

 "Ma nishadha: tvam", the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings, but "relocated" in equally passionate words, is that poetry? Yes, would be the answer, if the Sanskrit "adi/adya  kavi" (the first ever). Valmiki whose "jayanti", birth anniversary is celebrated today,  is the Ur-alibi.

Let us look at that first ever Indian/Sanskrit. shloka. The story of its birth has all the poetic ingredients. The Happy pair of birds, the cranes (whose passion dance is a great beauty visually), the hunter's indifferent cruelty at casually killing one of the pair, in a way, his compulsive behaviour, given his daily needs, the hurt feelings of the wise sage, these being better and deepest coz the feel is not self directed, the birth of the "adya shloka" shows what a composite, unique  experience is poetry. 

Mother (in all the  senses of the term) of composition, poetry has a unique expression. Made of verbal and audio effects, syntactically unusual constructs,poetry is the perfect most expression of human soul. Long live poetry!

Pratima@let me feel at least one line of poetry!

Soft as the moon, bright as the sun

 It is the Kojagiri pournima today. Aai loved celebrating it. She enjoyed the entire process of preparing the special milk with all the perfect ingredients, chilled in/with the moon rays, and served in shiny silver glasses she had bought for all of us. Why, she used to pray to the moon, too.

That was not a mere ritual, mind you. I think, she, in fact, both Aai-Papa, loved the beauty of such special pooja days. Whether it was the Tripurari Pournima or the Tulsi Vivah performed symbolically, it was hardly ever merely the religious praxis that mattered to either of them. I think, Aai (and Papa, too) relished, loved the senses-pleasing, sensuous beauty of such celebrations. Even the daily pooja was a glory of sights, sounds, fragrances, colors, for instance.

This zest for life, both of them enjoyed it, but Aai in a unique absolute abundance, I would say. An effective singer, an efficient painter and rather good at writing she was. The beautiful artefacts she used to make, i have  already described them in thorough details. She was a brilliant chef, too. Never wasting her time in silly gossip or watching stupid serials, she used it creatively, thoughtfully. Good at lots of things, she looked decades younger than her age, given her soft gentle skin. In brief, soft as the moon, bright as the sun was her presence. Here is wishing her and Papa eternal peace.

Pratima@parents proud

The Art of Simultaneously Living in Many Languages

 Look at the title of our blog today. When you as a translator occupy that multi- lingual land, life has to be serious, would be the general perception. Not at all. It is actually just the reverse as you are always on the flip side, given the process, either language wise. Jokes, hence, are aplenty in that 'know language' land.

Rather notorious is the Russian translation of the Biblical enunciation,"the spirit is willing,but the body weak" which reads as "there is lot of vodka, but very little meat".

" Falsche Freunde" abound in the translation region. The term refers to words similar sound/spelling wise, but vastly different meaning wise. An English boss tells his German secretary to send his wife "Gift", for instance, and the babe promptly sends the wifey poison, as in German 'Gift' refers to the deadly potion.

This last one is not the least one at all coz it proves that the Chinese good can actually last forever and need not always be a dis-ease. A Chinese professor of translation asks his student, " where would you be if you were told that you have just an hour to live?". "In our translation classroom," answers the student. "What a philosophical answer indeed! Explain why". " Well, Sir, every minute in this classroom is like a year," is the 'dead'pan explanation.

Pratima@translation is art, science , and, of course, Commerce!

Is translation possible?

 Is translation possible? Oui et non, peut-être, as the Frenchies would put it. Let us translate that to begin with. Literally, it is the French version of 'yes and no, can be'. Does the English version catch the French philosophical doubt? Yes-n-no, may be!

Yes, indeed, translation is a unique process. It is necessary, in fact, inevitable, and yet incomplete in its fullness. Do you think I am playing with words? Try translating recipes. The translation would always make you feel 'some' ingredient is missing.

Languages, like recipes, are rooted in a culture, in a way of being,in a mode of becoming, in a manner of thinking. Hence no word to word, literal translation can cut the gordian knot. It has to be trans-lation, that is, carrying the feel across. 

At times, in this process, the word power alone would not be enough. As it is, in the process of translation, vocabulary and syntax change drastically. Look at the French And Spanish version of "what is your Name?". It is " comment tu t'appelles?" and "cómo te llamas?" respectively. In English, however, the honorific  you, the "aap", is missing, without which the French or Spanish feel is impossible. The French and Spanish version incidentally mean "how do you call yourself?", which sounds crazy in English. Much worse would be the answer to this question in Japanese. It is " namae was Pratima desu", wherein, as you must have noted, the I-me-mine reference is missing, given the Japanese humility, belief in not talking about self, and the need to be listener-centered!

Yet, translation has made wor(l)ds possible.  Despite the British colonialism, for example, it was the translation of the Vedas and the Sanskrit literature by German scholars that made Europe realise the unique lyrical deep power of Indianness. 

Translation, including transliteration, is possible, is inevitable so much so that the computer world, the digital technology is interested n it. AI is making MT a reality. Translated in to  the non-geeky, non-mobile-abbreviation 'norm-al' English, it can be translated as "artificial intelligence is making machine translation...", blah, blah literally. Long live translations if all varieties, in the English motherland as well as the German " Vaterland"!

Pratima@ words make worlds

Food Fashion

 Food fashion! Is the title right, is that your question? Oh, yes,it is, coz food is passion, and all that is passion is always fashion, a truth universally acknowledged! Like everything else under the sun, there are heaps and heaps of fashion feed, the ubiquitous chinese or Punjabi or South Indian, the rare like saffron Kashmiri, the exotic Thai or Mexican, the food fad Vegan, food fashions are truly tongue twisting.

We are what we eat. So says the great Bhagwad Geeta, too. It provides definitions of satvik, rajas and tamas food, and suggests that our food makes us, defines our personality. Even if one does not want to be oh so philosophical, one has to accept that undoubtedly food fashions us. 

One food fashion that never fades is ' ma ke hathon ka khana'. Senti it makes us all. Yet, most objectively, I would say that Aai ke hath ka khana was indeed other  worldly. Her finger tips had taste buds indeed. Why, she could make gourds, brinjals, okra veggies in to gourmet delights. Daily dishes to festival feasts, her preparations were yum yet in perfect quantity. Never ever did our fridge store left over's. 

"Anna", that is, 'food' is parbramha, was our parents' faith.We had to, hence, polish off the first serving of everything  in the plate. If that made us physically strong, her festive food, which all her relatives remember ever, tickled the taste buds. Papa saw to it that all seasonal fruits fed  our taste buds. All such servings were special, born(e) as they were of and with love. So this World Food Day, here is seeking blessings that we continue to be how the family food fashioned us, wholesome and healthy. Family feed is the intimate-n-ultimate food 'fashion'!

Pratima @food f(l)avours!

The Dasara Wishes

 Dawned the D-Day! Literally, as D could be considered the abbreviation for Dasara, too.  As usual, the wapp messages inbox started getting flooded with the Dasara greetings. How lovely they were! Some of them were supported by the technical ingenuity, while some were high on the content. 

The content rich mostly referred to the tradition of  the  Dasara festival as the D-day, the Golden Day of/for the beginning of the learning process. Lovely were the depictions of the Saraswati motif. 

Yet another cute one dealt with the near and dear ones as the real gold that needs to survive forever. The one I liked the most was the one that echoed the message my blog yesterday ended with, that is to say, the festival as actually a process of self-amelioration, of self-betterment, of winning against the bad in oneself. 

Indeed the demon need not be out there. Like the Durga Mata within us, the demon, too, really needs to be slayed within us, and of-n-by our own wish and will. Dasara, the festival, thus becomes, the clarion call to the goddess, "ya devi sarv bhuteshu budhi/dhruti/smruti/shakti/khashama rupen samsthitha". In other words, Dasara is a day for the resurgence of all the good within us, be it intelligence, the ability to hold on, memory, power/strength, and forgiveness. Indeed thus can we be the real gold!

Pratima@ the best rests within.

The real meaning of Dasara

 Tomorrow is Dasara. Why is it celebrated? There are multiple, literally epic, answers to that question. It was the day the Kauravas' defeat began so to say as the Pandavas declared their incognito existence null and void, resumed their weapons, and thus forged a return to their promise to Draupadi   to avenge her public disgrace. According to yet another version, the day celebrated the decisive win over the ten-faced Ravana , the 'Dash-hara'. 

What is the meaning of the festival now, in the twenty-first century? In the post-Covid phase, it could mean slaying the demon of bad habits such as public spitting, the devil of careless, casual ignorance of the norms in the milling millions. In the public sphere, it would mean slaying the indifference to the public health system which collapsed miserably in the second wave. 

Personally, though, I feel that the festival means much more. Sure it is overcoming the  Ravana. Who is the Ravana? Yes, there are bad people out there whom the devil, too, would be ashamed to call his own. Yes, such horrors would try to make the lives of innocent, straightforward people in to a morass. How then to overcome their boast of " wat laga di", that is, their conscious attempt to destroy the prospects of a good person? I would say the best way out is winning over the anger, the despair, the frustration due to such constrictions. The evil around can then have no effects. The true Celebration of Dasara is thus!

Pratima@winning over oneself is the real fight, the real win 

Senses

 How certain tastes remind you of your forever lost childhood, for instance. For the Ashtami Pooja, Aai used to prepare "kadakani", the "prasad" made of jaggery, pumpkin and all sorts of flours, roasted in pure ghee. The whole home would then be filled with a unique fragrance of wholesomeness, benediction and purity. Though my preparation is not as fine as Aai's, the feel is the same.

That is true of all sensory perceptions, be it the fragrance of the soil after the first rain, the heady colours of  mild flowers, the soft touch of a baby's silken hair or of the soft fingers that want to hold on to you, or the unique sounds that flute in with the dawn breaking. So lovely are the associations that years may pass by, but the events return, the moment recurs, and in toto. Past ceases to be past, and becomes an eternal present.

Though we may not easily achieve the Keatsian synesthesia, all of us begin our cognitive abilities through sensory inputs as the first step. Senses may be elementary, Dr. Watson, but they are the real help to all the deductions. Hence though blamed in religious texts, senses make us, frame us in to ourselves. Here is to the glory of senses that would, and should, never fade.

Pratima@ senses make sense

Hero Worship

 They say the character of a person, a community, nay, a country is revealed through its role models. A role model is both, the actual person and his/her perceived qualities. It is we who perceive the qualities in a role model.Hence our role models are a mirror to us.

Who are the role models of the Indian youth? We talk of our demographic dividend with a lot of pride. But who do they look up to? Great thinkers, scientists, superb intellectuals, wonderful doctors, engineers, professors?No, not at all, unfortunately! Obsessed as our nation is with politics, cinema and games, our  youth thinks of  "netas", actors and players as their idols! Of course, there are exceptions to this general rule that prove the rule, is not it? Hope you would agree with me!

Yet another aspect of this obsession is that it is the gossip about these that matters to the Young India. To cite an example, it is rarely that such " fans" would know the screenplay writer or a lyricist who actually make the "hero". They would, however, know the silliest trivia about the " hero".

As a result, there is a lot of vacuity in the public sphere which is positively dangerous. Time to start thinking how to soon overcome it, right?

Pratima@let my country in to that heaven of freedom awake!

The best medicine

Mental health has been the theme here, there and everywhere these days, right? Since I do truly and sincerely believe in humour being the best therapy, as I mentioned it at the end of my blog yesterday, here are three specimens that would prove the efficacy of my final prescription yesterday.

1) A psychiatry lecture is on. This new lecturer believes in arriving at  a definition the description way. So she says, "this Man is jumping up and down, running hither and thither, beating his chest and brow alternately, screaming his head off, punching in the air. He is...?" From the last benches, offers somebody most helpfully, " a football coach in the final match?" 

2) A doctor, a lawyer and a scientist are discussing about who is better to have, a husband or a lover. "Husband," says the doctor, "because no worries when you get pregnant." "Lover," says the lawyer, "because there are no alimony issues." "Both," says the scientist, " because the husband thinks you are with the lover, the lover thinks you are with the husband, while all along you are enjoying hours after hours of calm and peace, quietly working in the lab."

3) A man has this curious disease whereby he thinks he is a grain of millet. After a lot of therapy, he seems cured. So the psychiatrist takes him to a poultry farm. The patient gets a huge panic attack. So the doctor says, "Why worry? I know that you know that you are a human being." Pat  comes the reply"That is okay. But do the chicken know that?"

Pratima@Intelligent humour is indeed a great cure 

Staying fit mentally:Five points, everyone!

 As it is the world mental health day today, let us discuss five most important exercises that are sure to help us stay fit psychologically. Sure, there are many, many more. Why, by the hour, gets minted a vlog, an article or a book on this subject. As the list is endless, each to his own. Why bore readers? So the magic number, five!

The most important one, I would say, is being optimistic. This includes, incidentally, being somewhat unsure, a little worried when the going gets tough. Basically, what we need, I would say, is being able to see the silver lining, however dark the cloud. Thus we are avoiding the toxic positivity as well because it is hypocritical to maintain in a stupid way that "all is well" when it is not. Optimism refers to the ability to continue believing in and working for better possibilities even if the current contexts seem impossible in every which way.

The second one, I would say, is accepting yourself. Sure, one works on oneself, one's faults, and thus becomes a better version of oneself by the day. Yet when you accept yourself, you do not ever even feel the need to compare yourself with anyone else, busy as you are with being and working on yourself.

The third one , I would say, is accepting that you cannot change people and/or contexts just because you wish to. Instead, being adaptable,one becomes the change one wants as far as possible. When it is not probable to do so, one distances oneself from the context. Thus one can maintain peace and balance. Anyways, it is always better to be miles away from toxic people.

The fourth one would be to have a rough regimen for  the day, eating healthy, drinking water and mild exercise. Healthy mind in a healthy body, right? If you have a rough plan for the day, you manage time for everything, including the famous "me time", right?

Now we come to the last and the least. In my opinion, it is to laugh in a healthy way, at yourself, at the crazy context, for instance. Laughter is indeed the best medicine.

So here is wishing a " stay fit n be a hit" on this mindful occasion.

Pratima@happiness is where the heart is.

Make up mind!

 On the august occasion of, as any grand speechifying begins, the eve of the mental health day, let us forget these rituals, and straight come to the point. Mind, as Milton made us realise ages ago, can make hell of heaven and, heaven of hell.

In the post traumatic era of the pandemic that we collectively suffered, the importance of mental health matters the most. Especially, there are two groups that need a lot of psychological support as these two groups lack any control over the surrounding and surreal reality. These two groups are the very old and the very young, those above seventy and those below ten. Even when the new normal is settling in and the world is opening up not so slowly, these two groups are not exactly on the radar. 

Just as we need to make up our mind regarding these vulnerable groups, we need to improve our mental make up, too. So as the title today would suggest, we need to make our minds up to make up, make better our minds.

With the digital revolution in full swing,we are going to face many a cultural shocks. It is time to get ready for these. The methods could be a positive mindset that is not toxical-ly positive, that can accept the chinks in our armours, too.

We would have to learn to constantly de-learn, un-learn and re-learn. Sure, it is going to be tough, but we would have to learn to grin it and bear it. Yes, indeed, laughter is going to be the best medicine. 

In my opinion, yet another therapeutical tool could be constantly working at brain health. Luckily, new therapies are emerging even for a horror called Alzheimer's. In other words, the dark cloud of despair does have a hope filled outer edge, the famed silver lining.

Thus can we batter bots bettering us, fight mind warriors trying to gain total control, as shown in a film like Inception. Our unconscious, both of the individual as well as of the collective variety, has hidden layers of strength. Let us tap these . Be it yoga, oxygen therapy, water therapy, the method matters not, what majors is the peace of mind.Thus can we gain balance in times that are unhinged in multiple ways.

Pratima@attitude is all.

Love Lost

 The songs of the yesteryears were gems. That is a truism. Why was that so? Undoubtedly, the singers were superb. Music directors were magicians. The lyricists were masters. Performing them on the screen were talented actors open to every nuance and shade of meaning. For sure.

These age old wonders continue to resonate even today. Decades and generations later. Why? The actual reason is that the feelings, ideas, concepts they enshrined were genuine.

Let us take the example of Love. What is Love today? Lost! Just look at the lyrics, if they can at times be so called. As shallow as the actual concept in  reality. That exactly is the problem. 

Art, remember, Plato said, is twice removed from reality. I suppose that suits the depiction of love in films today, if it could be so called at all. May be, because Love is lost in the real world today, a fact faithfully reflected in the tinsel songs, if they, too, can be so termed at all!

Can love be merely lust? Can love be vindictive harassment? Can love be declared to the whole world, without letting the 'object' (the very concept is as ridiculous as people who have such feelings!) thereof know? Such so-called Love is nothing but a pitiful attempt to hide one's multiple inadequacies behind a smoke screen. But why bother in the process a person who does not even belong to your creed in any sense of the term?

Or it could be an attempt to divert attention from the lover's (ha!) personal and/or familial dirty and scandalous life full of ugly  secrets. Actually, such 'love' has to be the product of an empty, vacuous brain that has nothing else to do. An empty mind and a jobless life ARE the devils that can shame any Satan. It can be mere jealousy and sheer viciousness, too, but surely NOT Love.

 Surely,  it can not be love when you pay gangsters piddly little amount of money or supply them   swigs of hard liquor so as to harass an innocent person, to spread silly, vicious rumours about her because the  jealous person you have coupled with is quite a character, and wants a sadistic kick, much stronger than all 'substance' put  together  by harassing an innocent person This wickedness, truly cheap because it is not even openly stated, has to be the exact acronym of that great feel, love. In fact, even hatred would also ashamed to be thus manifested!

As such, such is the reality, with honourable exceptions that prove the general rule, no wonder, shallow shadows thereof would haunt the reel versions of such poor reality. From an empty well, how to draw water, right? No wonder, love today in real and hence in reel life is the tale told by idiots, full of sound and stories, signifying nothing indeed. Love laboured and lost for sure!

Pratima@ why be cheap and mean, and call one's viciousness love!?!

Navratra

 Certain days have their own unique charm. Ashwin Shudh Pratipada, that is, the Beginning of the Navratra, belongs to that "D Day" kinda category. It augurs in the festive feel, beginning wih the Dasara to Diwali, and beyond.

Suddenly, the morning feels fresh. There is a nip in the very air, pleasantly cold, what with the rains in the retreat mode. The ambience is in the Go Green mood. Multi coloured flowers are in the bloom. Everywhere you have the small kiosks selling the navaratra special pooja essentials. Even when you are miles away from Bengal, that zingy zeal feel full of conches blowing,   castanets clinking fills the festive ambience.

Like the Bhadrapada Gauri Pooja, this Celebration is colourful in every way. Why, these days, women wear the colour of the day. The 'groupfies' are everywhere, on the social media, in the newspapers, and what have you.

Every Navratra, Aai used to clean up every nook and  corner of the home, brighten up every utensil. The home  would thus wear a happy smile. The "til", the sesame, flower garland for the goddess was compulsory. Their fragile beauty glowing golden yellow would give the devhara a priceless, precious feel, what with the samai, the holi diya, glowing mildly for twenty four by nine till the Dasara day.

Both of them, Aai-Papa, would keep the fast. Aai loved to celebrate the " hadaga". She used to draw the rangoli elephant on the wooden board, the "pat" (we still have it), decorate it beautifully with colours and flowers, prepare a tasty menu for the "khirapat", the special prasad, every evening. 

Sure, all these rituals are pretty. I think they have a deep meaning, too. The " hadaga", for example, teaches every young girl the worth of togetherness, of sharing. In fact, I would like to argue that not only is it an agrarian festivity celebrating the about to ripen kharip crop, imitated in the very  structure of the navaratra pooja, wherein you literally sow seeds that sprout, but it is also a celebration of the very feminine principle.

Any introductory text of sociology, political economy, ecology or archaeology would tell the truth universally established that women were the primeval farmers. They recognised the value, the worth of growing crops over the nomadic existence in and out of caves.

Even when the patrilineal, patriarchal set up took the control away from women, they were an integral part of the agrarian mode of production. Even today, in small farm based households, the woman of the family has a huge lot to contribute. Like her care-n-service duties within the family, such productivity is not part of any GDP as it is non-paid.

The navaratra festivities are actually a celebration, it can so easily be argued, of these primordial praxes. In the current digitalised days, women are more and more getting reduced to use-n-throw 'items'. The "dashhara", the doing away of the ten faces of Ravana, should be the killing of the ten and millions of harrassment modes of women!

Pratima@ yatra naryastu pujyante, that is, where women are prayed to, not preyed on!

Enter the net

 The other day, the Wapp/Facebook/Snapchat(?) trio was down for six hours, and the whole world was  up. In protest. As for myself, initially, I did not realise the plight because I do not use the Facebook as four faces booked of mine are playing hide-n-seek there! I just do not have the patience to delete any three, send friendship requests from there to here, answer questions about my own veracity and authenticity. As if one does not have to unnecessarily suffer enough of that Fate to `face' it  in the virtual wor(l)d, too!

Soon, however, three wapp messages, rather important, refused to move. At the other, receiving, end of these non-bugdgees were hi- fundoo people, not the ones frivolously playing at the block/unblock game. Well, my data provider has long back washed off any  responsibility whatsoever. In the service office main branch, I was most helpfully told to follow their own example, and switch on-n-off the device till the data pack dutifully chose to grace the screen. That sureshot panacea could not revive the moribund mobile. Instead gurgled the Google Assistant, "How can I help you?"  And thus I came to know the origin of the issue.

Well, I do not exactly belong to the species of the  social media addict. Any day any time, I prefer a book to the Wapp University. Thanks be to the Marshall McLuhan warning, I refuse to be the 'medium' of my 'message'. 

On the whole though, given the exponentially exploding digital revolution, it looked as if wor(l)ds were paralysesd. `Breaking news' tactics had to revert to old-fashioned (re)sources. The zeroes in the count of the amount M/S Zuckerberg lost were so very many that one wondered he did not the lead the leak of/in the Pandora box. 

Soon all was quiet on the wapped front, but it made me realise how `netted' we are, whether we like and/or want it or not. Indeed enter a `dragonet' phenomenon it is. A regular maze you cannot avoid even at your peril, and there is not any Ariadne's thread guiding you out of it. Mind you, I am not being an orthodox bibliophile, lost though I am to the charm and nostalgia of the genuine communication of the pre-emoji era of likes and upvoting.

My problem is with the faces that most all book on such sites so much so that it looks like a wor(l)d of mirrors masking each other endlessly. Such political correctness mistakes opinionated, half-baked propaganda of all possible varieties for the real event, the genuine feel, the intimate togetherness. Even when I use the social media minimally, often I get the feel of living in the Orwellian Ministry of Love guided by doublethink wherein one is metamorphosing weirder than Kafkaesque Samsa. Long live post truth chimeras of veracity!

pratima@Enter the net wherein half lies are truths and language is emoji's and abbeviations so as to often mean/comm(un)i(ca)t(e) meaninglessly.

Therapy

 Now that the Corona pandemic seems to be a little under control, other major diseases seem to be getting the attention they deserve. One such dis-ease absolutely to be addressed immediately is Alzheimer's.

It is the deadliest, I would say. It steals the very selfhood, the real identity of the elderly patient, most often women. It is a kind of autoimmune disease, so to say. In a world greying fast, therapy against it was the  urgent most need of the hour.

Those of you who have been regularly reading my blog (I am not exactly kidding or flattering myself when I say most humbly that indeed there ARE some readers who have thus chosen to bless me and mine!) would remember that on September 22, in the blog Post entitled "Fathoming Forgetfulness", I did mention this demon.

Today, however,I refer to it again because NOW a major breakthrough in its treatment is imminent. What I love about this emerging treatment is its utter simplicity. It consists of the patient being administered pure oxygen per day for an hour or some such specified period as per the stage.  Right now, sure it is thus given under strict medical supervision. Very soon, however, it should be available in containers, rather like the asthma pumps.

What a divine Promethean gift it would be to the patients and the family caretakers! This is pure real science, a breakthrough worth a Nobel, as it would spare trauma for an entire family.

In a way, I would say it takes us back to the yoga inhalation practice of pranayama and its various typologies. Old is thus gold in a way because pranayama is the current rage on the fashion circuit, and is easily accessible to the poor as well, welfare state or otherwise.

Let me hence end the blog today with a big  "Congratulations cum Thank You" to the entire team of medical researchers at Tel Aviv University .  In a post-truth world, too,the  truism that doctors are gods is real for sure!

Pratima @ God is omni-present, And yet he And his emissaries are around us, as mothers and  medical researchers when He gets real busy!

 

The Animal Planet

 Why this title, you would wonder. Sure the channel is out of this world. Indeed because it deals with animals, luckily out of this world of us humans!

Sure we evolved out (of) animals, to put Darwin's ideas simplistically. Actually, however, animals are much more, and better, evolved than most all human beings put together. Mind you, this truism holds good about so called wild animals as well. 

No animal ever harasses, harms, hurts another out of sheer ill will, wickedness, mean selfishness. If fully-n-properly fed, a lion would allow a fawn prance around. In fact, in the animal world, there is a subtle sense of co-operation as can be seen in any  lion pride. Even when it comes to human-wild life bonds, there are tremendous tales of true devotion, loyalty and faithfulness, of the Elsa lioness types from the days of Aesop and the hungry lions.

When it comes to pets, even cats are better than many human beings. Dogs are wonders when it comes to love, affection, devotion. Even if ill treated, a dog would never hurt its "hooman". Eternal clowns, they are superb stress busters. Moreover, they are intelligent enough to learn and perform. They are real gems, unlike human tricksters.  They communicate in multiple ways. Be it Robinson Crusoe or Ulysses, dogs have revealed God like behaviour! Remember Laila,the Guinea pig dog whose sacrifice made the current space  field possible.

As animals are the best buddies, here is wishing them a long, happy togetherness on this world Animal Day! Hence the title today!

Pratima@ celebrating our real best buddies! 

You See/say what YOU are

 I was just listening to what X was saying about Y. At such times when anonymity matters, one can always call in Shakespeare as one's alibi, given his Juliet's great assertion about names. 

Let us get back to our theme today. While Y pandered to X's vanity, Y was  great according to X.  The moment Y moved an inch away from X's interpretation of self, that very Y was the worst person ever living! Funny, no? Hence the title today, which anyways is a word game on Descartes' famous axiom.

Actually, what we think and  what we say about others, how we treat others reveal a lot about ourselves, and, in fact, absolutely nothing about the other(s).  Our words, like our actions, are mirrors of our selves, not of the objects of our talk/activities. A mean remark/action about someone else shows your cheapness actually, does not it?

The same holds true with competitive behaviour. Only an insecure person would try to wipe out a better alternative. When you are confident in your own skin, you are sure nobody can steal your success/limelight. In fact, you consider a person better than you as a learning opportunity, as a chance to work on yourself. Anyways, even if you block a good person in one particular context, the person is sure to shine some where else, sooner than later,  and that brilliance is going to show 'you' up, right?

Aai-Papa never allowed us cheap gossip or silly comments against others. Nor did they themselves indulge in it. At times, hence,  I do not know how to deal with such frenemies!

Would you agree with me if I say that a woman suffers the worst in such name-shaming game? If a woman is friendly, she is a flirt. If she does not respond to the obvious overtures, she is frigid or a lesbian! If she is sincere about her work, she is ambitious. If she is lackadaisical about what she does, well, a woman after all. If she achieves anything, she is not brilliant, but she used her charms! 

The best way, I suppose, to deal with such carping is to send it to the trash bin of  your mind, right? Better always to remember the story of the old man, his son and their donkey, is not it? Well, let one's critics and frenemies flourish.  One thus has nothing to lose, except one's possible mistakes!

Pratima@kuch to log kahenge/karenge!logon ka to kam hai yehi, na?

Wonderful Communication

 October 2, it is today. Indeed it is a Landmark Day in India. The day marks the birth anniversary of two of The Great Souls produced By Our motherland: Gandhi ji and Shastri ji. As every affiliation wants to own them solo, up and close was a dogfight, each group accusing the other of misunderstanding their legacy, falsifying it, and so on.

What I find remarkable about both of them, in addition to their famed virtues and values,  is their communication. Both of them are very effective communicaters.Look at Shastriji's clarion call," jay jawan, jay kisan". In simplest possible terms,  with a chant like effect, he encapsulated the vision and the priorities of his times most effectively, truthfully, and efficiently.

Gandhji's "chale jaon", too, had a mass appeal. In fact, I  would go a step ahead, and say that his actions were very communicative, too. His Dandi March, his khadi weaving on the charakha,his jail bharo agitation, through simple activities that can be easily followed, he gave an entire nation a self image that was very idealistic and yet rather realistic to live up to. Great communication indeed this is that has superb evocative and emotive value that can be translated in to concrete action by the average common man.

Just as they thus conquered all barriers to communication, both of them enriched the experience and the very process of connecting with the partner with a truly child like smile. Hence this tribute to their wonderful communication prowess.

Pratima@speak simple, true and  well, and thereby hangs a tale!

A Day for the Elderly

 Days can sometimes be good and valid when they devotedly espouse a cause, and do not carry the baggage of commodification. I would maintain that October 1, a day dedicated to the elderly, is an effective example of such a sensible practice.

Currently the number of the elderly is expanding exponentially, while the concern and care for them and their welfare is decreasing digitally. I am using the term 'digitally', in both the senses of the term, that is digit by digit, and due to digitisation. The latter process has reduced communication, the need of the elderly, to emoji's and oft repeated wappies, liked or otherwise. In a way, we are thus thumbing down life itself.

In such troubled times, a day, though not as sexy as the other days, that makes the social conscience aware of the elderly plight can work a little, if not  exactly, wonders. In our socio-economic context, most frequently, the elderly belong to the non-formal sector. They get very little pension, if at all. The salary is mostly spent in the children's welfare in their growing-up years.

Children, given the current times, hardly care, if at all, beyond a point. Given rhe better life expectancy, the old thus become an unwanted burden. Emotionally this plight can be both scary and scarring, given the physical debility.

Mobility nil, old age diseases aplenty, children often far away busy with their lives, the skeleton bodies with failing eyesight and listening deprivations, find life terrible, almost a prison without any escape and with vicious warders.

More than welfare schemes, or stringent laws, sensitizing the societal mindset is the urgent need of the hour. After all today's youngsters are soon going to be tomorrow's elderly, with much worse problems to face in every which way. Old has to be valued gold!

Pratima@age has to be a mere number/let there be happy days before we forever slumber!