Science can be fun!

 On the Science Day, let us the  seriousness laugh away. 

1) A proton is walking up and down the railway platform. "Want any help," a coolie asks him. "Thank you. No need. I travel light," says the proton! Ha! Ha! Ha!

2) When Oxygen and Magnesium go out, it is an "OMg" moment! Ho!Ho!Ho!

3)An acid with an attitude is known as: A-mean-oh acid! He!He!He!

4) A frog goes to an astrologer. The man says,"Very soon a very beautiful girl would love to know all about you." "Where?," asks the super elated frog. Answers the astrologer, tongue firmly in cheek, "In the biology lab, on the dissection table."

5) On Feb 14, the girlfriend of a chemist exclaims,"love is in the air." "No, nitrogen, oxygen and carbon dioxide are in the air," he immediately corrects her. 

Sure, science, too, can be, and is, FUN!

The Marathi Day

 In Maharashtra, February 27 is a feverish day annually, whatever might be the actual temperature. It has to be as it is the Marathi Day. The celebration of a mother tongue is indeed a requisite as its speakers alone can truly glorify it.

Every year on this day or on its eve, almost ritually, there are programmes after programmes glorifying Marathi, speeches and fervent discussions on its quasi classical status, its not being granted the classical status as yet, et al.  Genuine issues indeed, but why do they get merely repeated ritualistically?

Beyond mere jingoism and photo-ops, how can the language of heart be the master  language its ardent supporters fervently want it to be? First and foremost, it has to be the language of knowledge. 

In this era of knowledge as the real capital (the best example of it would be the kpo's and/or the start-up's), how can we strengthen Marathi as a language of knowledge, of information, of science and technologies, of commerce and business, and most importantly, of humanities is the real question.  

Umpteen workshops for script writing and/or poetry making may flourish on the D-day, and beyond, as the Wapp Groups have turned in to a writer minting factories. But entertainment industry has only these many possibilities which are anyways "managed" with their own logic, if any at all.

Actually, a language grows great because the thought in it is unusual. Remember how and why Sant Dnyaneshwar could initiate Marathi? He began a new mould/mode of thinking. His attempt hence was more radical than that  by any predecessor, for instance.

Marathi needs to grow now in that fashion, as the language of radical, path breaking thought, knowledge and wisdom. It has to create a new pathway instead of the much travelled rout(in)es. May be, better translation modes,  encyclopedia and dictionaries might help? German, for example, has up to date dictionaries for each and every discipline and its tributaries. English  is a rich master of world affairs because it chooses to accept newer concepts and terms from every intellectually creative are(n)as or for folk forms and terms of daily usage. Initially, the terminology may appear difficult, but why is there such a terrible need for excessive simplification? Why not believe in the user's native capabilities and capacities? 

In brief, only when the language of heart becomes the language of head, it would gain real prestige, I suppose. 

Pratima @ how to make the mother tongue the dream language with immense status that we want it to be?

Well begun...

 Sanju spoke about Prakash Mama on the occasion of  Mama's Platinum Jubilee Celebration. How well and effectively he began, how wonderfully he summed up all of Mama's unique qualities! Indeed his three minutes long speech was wonderful. Well begun is indeed half done.

Yet Sanju's speech  was wonderful not only because it was well begun but also because it was well intentioned. That was why it sounded remarkable and genuine. The leaders' talks, for instance, are exceptionally well begun, well articulated, but the intentions behind them are hardly genial or genuine, and hence  the speeches are a problem in the end.

Look at the entire dialectics around the current Russian war, for example. Like the war, the speechifying, too, is extremely efficient, but hardly efficacious. That is, I suppose, because such delivery is neither human nor humane.

A war, for example, is terrible because its costs are human in the end. Humane they never are, moreover. When a soldier breathes his last in a war, for example, it is not just a man dying. 

He is somebody's son. His old parents, too, lose a lifetime when the body is home. Draped in whichever colours it might be, their universe is forever dark thenceforth. He is somebody's brother, somebody's best buddy. His children's future is forever dark henceforth. His better half would always be a half henceforth. An entire web of relationships is forever frozen in grief and loss from then on.

In other words, wars may or not begin well, but they never end well because the human(e) cost of a war is beyond any count. It was hence that the sixties were truly volatile. The student unrest, the feminist questioning of the status quo, the racial upheaval were all indeed earth shaking. Yet what uniquely defi(n)ed the decade were the gunny bags back from Vietnam.  

Especially because the war machinery now is horribly lethal, how one wishes no war ever began! However well begun it may appear to a power monger, be it Russia or China or its minions like our dear neighbour, for each and every one involved in it directly, and for millions like us suffering it indirectly, it is never going to end well.

Pratima@ revolutions never can truly emerge from the barrel of a gun!

The Pity of War

 Yet again begins yet another war. Such is its proportion and contours that it appears like a throw back to the Cold War era. May be, Russia wants back the 'glory' of the USSR, lost in its opinion in the wake of the Tiananmen Square and the Fall of the Berlin War of the late 1980's era. China, its so far discreet partner in crime, is no longer merely a discreet Commie Ally. Its expansionist market controlling moves are no secret. In fact, the fear the world over is Ukraine is a lesson China would perfect In Taiwan.

After 9/11 and after Afghanistan, the U.S. would not want a war, but it must flex its muscles in distant Europe, yet again war ground after the World War II. And yet much water has flown under the bridge. The times, and most importantly, war technologies, have drastically changed, become more lethal.

What has Not changed is 'the pity of war, the pity war distilled' as the shell shocked poets of the first world war would put it. The tragic realities of the trenches were horrors that scarred a generation. But much worse was the intense realisation that as the bigwigs played their stupid games that led to a tragic war that had precious little to do with glory, either at the individual or the national level.

Pratima@ a new fever arises in the Post Pandemic stage, the latest, the newest version of war fever!

Remembrance

 February 24 is the Central Excise Day, it seems, celebrated in the memory of the 1944 Salt Act, and to encourage the sincere officers.

That reference brought back a trunk full of memories of Papa's. Papa was a Central Excise Official. He was horribly honest. Yes, I have used the right intensifier for the adjective.

Well, his genuine honesty, his being true to his profession, his observing both the letter and the spirit of the Central Excise laws sure brought him genuine satisfaction, but it landed him in many difficulties, too.

First and foremost, due to his honesty, he was a thorn in the side of the corrupt and their boot licking lackeys. As a result, he had to face umpteen transfers. Before he could properly settle down to question the status quo, the powers that be in that place would get him sent away so that their dark deeds do not get exposed. He and Aai literally had to pack all the utensils and other stuff in a big trunk, and move on. Hence the reference to trunk full of memories. 

Since he so much insisted on the subtleties of the Central Excise rules and complex subsets of sub-regulations, he was obviously much in the way of those who would like to bend the systemic rules any which way.  He was too straightforward to even notice such daggers beneath the cloak types, moreover.

 He generously helped the honest though. I remember, one of his colleagues, a Customs officer, met with a major accident, but was not helped by the powers that be in his office. Papa stood by him like an elder brother, he used to ferry him to hospital, too, though obviously he could not help the man financially. I suppose though, it is Papa's psychological support that finally got him through. 

Papa had to live in awful places all alone as Aai-Papa, they both, decided that Pune should be the educational centre for their children. I still can see that one room small tenement in Sholapur in my nightmares. For a couple of years, he used to daily commute to Mumbai, and back. The very thought gives me the heebie-jeebies even today.

He believed in you so completely, totally and intensely that you could not even dream of breaking his faith in you. Such a faith is great in the personal space, but in the public sphere, such a completely straightforward behaviour makes you an easy target of the crooks in the office based politics that is the bane of our polity.

Well, I have always maintained that it is the honest, genuine officers like Papa who drive the jaded juggernaut of the system and keep it mobile, relevant. People like him may be very few, may be, just 2%, but it is they who are the essential glue, the cement that keeps the entire system from coming apart, be it the socioeconomic, cultural, political sphere(s). Such people may not reap many public rewards as they often may not have the chicanery needed to land such awards. Their very life, however, is the biggest prize though. Fond though difficult memories indeed!

Pratima@ a simple life genuinely lived, that was Papa.

Reciprocity

 Yesterday I saw a lovely cartoon. It showed a fish outside its container, sharing its bit of water with another fish. The tagline was: help others even when they cannot help you back.

The tagline made me feel both, a sense of satisfaction and a sense of confusion. Well, the satisfaction bit came from the fact that one always tries to help, family, friends, others, why, even flora and fauna. One always tries to be just and fair. So far, so good. That is the way it has to be, too.

The confusion comes from the fact that most often, even when everybody knows how straightforward and clean you are, none wants to help you. Why could it be so? After much thought, I have arrived at the conclusion that one occupies in their mind only that much space wherein they can further jump to their advantage.

Well, be it so. The fun lies in giving, than taking. So let it continue. So it was, and so will it be.

pratima @ paid or genuine/ a smile is a smile!

Learning Languages

 Learning languages can  be great fun. To begin with, each language is just a code accepted by a community. While learning a language, it is an exhilarating  experience to get the feel of the known in an unknown way. 

Let me give a few examples, real fun they are, however much oft quoted. A dog is a 'chien' in French, while Germans hound it as 'Hund', 'pero'/but the Spaniards love the 'perro'! Just listen to the way the dear animal sounds in different languages. A dog barks in English as 'bow-wow', while in German, it is 'arf-arf'. Have you ever heard a dog intone 'wan-wan'? Well, yes, in Japanese, that is the way! They  'wan-wan'. No wonder, the Japanese are forever thinking of a 'win-win' solution, especially since their love for the pet friend/child is quite a legend.

Sometimes, across languages, you find a unique bonding. In German, a brother is a 'Bruder', quite like the Sanskrit 'bhratru'. The German 'Vater' ('v' pronounced as 'f') , the father, reminds of the Sanskrit 'pitru'. The Sanskrit 'matru' is the German 'Mutter' , and English mother, while 'shwashru' is 'Schwester', that is the German version of sister. Well, languages, too, believe in families! In Indo-German family of languages, Sanskrit is the mother node, while English and German are sister branches.

Funniest, however, are the 'falsche Freunde'. In translation theory, this term refers to words across languages that sound similar but have a vastly different meaning. Even in today's liberalised (in all senses of the term) times, many parents may be embarrassed if the unwed daughter is 'embarazada', that is, pregnant  in Spanish. The German secretary, it seems, gave 'Gift' (poison) when her English busy boss told her to give the dear wifey a birthday surprise. You know why? Well, the lady in question was a Norwegian who aggressively asserted her 'gift'( married status in Norwegian)!

 Multiple such examples abound, making language learning great fun. Well, let us end with a rather crazy example. My Marathi students chuckle with pleasure tinged with a 'serves you right' feel when they learn that in Spanish Daddy Dearest is known as 'padre' which in their mother tongue means, well, no harm, checking a Marathi in to English dictionary!

Pratima@ Learn a language at each-n-very (st)age!

The World Mother Tongue Day

 Come February 21, and unmistakable are the memories of my Language Lab students celebrating it in a huge way. The kids were real enthusiastic, you had to help them with  just the outline, tell them the overall  structure of the programme, sit with them and practise with them the sentences in different languages,for example. They would deck up that way, learn a few sentences in some other language, perform them on the stage, and what have you. 

It used to be fun every year, but it was real special one World Mother Tongue day. We had a plethora of programmes, the sarasvati stotra in "yaman", " we shall overcome" in English, German, French, and Hindi (the entire auditorium including the Co-Ordinator joining in), the "vide, vide witte bum bum" song, jokes about "falsche Freunde", spanish/French songs, individual and group dances,the works, in brief. The high point, however, were the mimes.  The whole hall was ringing with laughter, fun, joy,enthusiasm, the very youthful feel.

What I loved about the performances was the fact that none of my students was the Purushottam Karandak Star Performer, much cosseted, much conceited, much admired, much praised and pampered. But in NO WAY was my bunch INFERIOR. In fact, they were far, far superior as we had no support, no facilities. Just to get the keys of the hall (despite all the proper modes being followed in writing) for the dry run was a huge task. Nobody would co-operate, nobody would help. But Nothing, absolutely nothing, could diminish the spirit of our team. Students practised in the language lab, in the corridors, on the steps, on the lawns. No wonder, the final product pulsated with that vibrant youthful energy. 

A great day, it was a wonderful celebration of the power of language(s) so much so that an Afghan girl, my German student, spoke in pure Marathi when she responded to the multiple versions of " we shall overcome".  Thus we could include hundreds of students while celebrating very many mother tongues.  Happy memories indeed!

Pratima@ bliss it was to be present in the hall/to be a youthful performer was the very heaven!

Fair is not foul, and foul is not fair

 Oh, you are a Shakespeare enthusiast. You have read your 'Macbeth', and quite  liked the witches  intoning mysteriously, 'fair is foul and foul is fair',right? The title of our blog today hence appears confusing to you, right? Well, the word play is indeed conscious as the blog today refers to Social Justice.

Apparently today is World Social Justice day. Must be a U.N. diktat. I have not been able to locate the origins of this practice though. It set me thinking, however.

What exactly would be social justice? Not discriminating against anyone on the basis of class, caste, race, gender, language or age, right? All of these categories get violated each minute every where, however. As Marxism and Identity Politics have familiarised most all to the rest of the liminalities, especially given the post colonial discourse, let us look at age. 

Currently the most discriminated against are the age wise disadvantaged. This category includes two extreme groups, the young and the old. Be it the virtual reality or the practical daily lived life, these two groups are always at the receiving end.Take the ubiquitous computers, for example. If children fall prey to computer bullying, the elderly to the targeting due to inadequate fluency with the computers.

Between the two, I would say much worse is the condition of the elderly. The traditional respect associated with age  has vanished in to thin air. In fact, being aged is a certain condition for being devalued, demeaned,decapicitated everywhere, in the private space, in the public sphere, and all this despite the gerontological explosion. In fact, with welfare measures diminishing by the decades, FD rates dwindling by the day, the huge aged population, absolutely outside any socioeconomic net, as most all Indians belong to the unorganized sector, are facing very difficult times.  Nobody respects their huge capabilities, even when the young lack most all competencies.

Of the aged, too, real tough is the situation  of the elderly women. Post the productive period every which way, and given the half baked feminist representations in the serials, for instance, this group, not useful either to the market or to the political parties, gets it the worst way possible, almost like the 'witches' of yesteryears. Lots can be done for them, what with the health issues, depression due to loneliness, for instance. That, however, would be the theme of a different blog altogether.  Hope policymakers provide them some pie of social justice, though sensitizing the society is the real urgent need of the hour. Only then can fair be fair!

Pratima@age is indeed just a number.

Maharaj

 Master of guerrilla art, a kingdom to start

 All the woebegone found him a braveheart

 Huge, unusual  was the ideal he thought

 Ardently  a new way in to being he brought

 Ruled he thus, the old mould trounced

 Aware, agile of mind, caring and kind

 Joined he the populace  in an ethical bind!

Pratima@ King Shivaji, the great emperor!

Thy name is...

 There was a time when I used to be absolutely dazzled by anybody publishing a book. I was horribly naive then. Well, life teaches you to be wise, and I have learnt how to oneself remain clean, innocent, pure, but know/understand the games behind the (smoke) screen. I know now for certain that most all books published are paid for by the authors. 

Quite a game it is. You pay the publisher to get your manuscript published. Next you get it distributed to the University/college and/or public libraries, and, voila, you are an author. Of course, you need deep pockets for that. There are UGC funds to thus splurge on your Ph.D. thesis (most often approved by an "I scratch your, eh, I pass your student's thesis, you, mine" clique), too. For that UGC fund facility, you, of course, need to be a permanent college/University employee.

That, too, that is, both getting a Ph.D. and/or a job, is a proposition that needs equally deep, if not deeper and wider pockets, it seems. My M.A. students knew the exact 'rates' involved, they would nonchalantly quote these 'rates'. One needs to know the right contacts, and pave the way through a lot of splurge, it seems, moreover, because, informed my M.A. students, one needs to 'manage' the 'right' expert committee, not to forget the authorities in the college/parent organisation and in the Univ. Dept.  

One of these students used to maintain that a xerox shop would be a better proposition instead, while most others would opine that it is a better proposal to pay your way through as life is sheer luxury once the mandatory two years of probation are over. Despite my stunned recoil, I could not refute a word of all this "money makes the mare..." manipulation because the entire education system abounds with such careers. Yes, there could be exceptions, but these would be one in a million.

 In India, as it is, without a sugar ( or,  most times, real/biological) daddy or a fairy (read the same 'in bracket' stuff here, too) mother, a career is impossible anyways as that entire mafia gets used to carry on a smear campaign against a deserving candidate without any of the advantages mentioned above. One of the reasons behind the inferior quality of education could be such selections, too, right? People who cannot speak/write a single correct sentence in English get Ph.D.'s in English Lit./Linguistics, and are college/Univ Heads of Departments, comfortably retiring with a huge pension!

To get back to publication, now a new trend is emerging, self publication through/on the internet. Comparatively lesser money is involved. You can, moreover, have the entire net as your worth(y) marketplace. Virtual takes over virtue, true?

Well, I am extremely happy that  for none of the articles, leads, reviews, books, Distance Mode teaching material to my credit, have I ever paid my way through. I was instead paid by the authorities concerned, as should be the real cause/case.  Nor have I taken the short/smart route to an academic (!) career. That, in my opinion, is the real way to be and become a good sensitive author/lecturer at all (the educational levels)!

Pratima@ money matters!

Deep Wisdom

 Let us today look at a few quotes by the great Persian Sufi poet of the thirteenth century, Rumi. Currently it is quite a fashion to constantly quote him. Let us jump on the bandwagon, and let us look at some of his quotes which are often liked.

 I suppose, these are famous because of their simple expression but  tough paradoxical  meaning. Let us look at a few:

1) Do not feel lonely. The entire universe is within you.

2)Stop acting so small. You are the entire universe in ecstatic motion.

3) You are not a drop in the Ocean. You are an entire Ocean in a drop.

4) Only from the heart can you touch.

5) As you start to walk the way, the way appears.

Pratima@the power of poetry!

Appreciation, thy Name is Analysis

 Apparently, recently a National Women's Day was celebrated. It seems it is dedicated to the memory of Sarojini Naidu. She is the face of women's participation in the freedom struggle, while, across the world, she is the poetic voice of India in the pre- Independence phase of Indian English Literature.

Last year I had to teach two of her poems. The first one dealt with the concept of Madhura Bhakti. Not every student liked the Radha-Krishna love. The poem described three instances of Radha's love for Krishna, in the fare, during the festival, and in a Temple. The poem also talked of how Radha could see only Krishna everywhere.

I analysed every poetic feature of the poem, the dramatic monologue, the images, the symbols, the figures of speech, the works.  Finally, I analysed the allegory in the poem, the religious/philosophical notions involved, the Advaita philosophy, et al. In the post analysis discussion, a few students found the poem too heavy, too cliched, an impossible concept of love. A typical response of the early twenties group for whom love is the first step as per the fourfold Greek definition.

To another group, I had to teach "Palanquin bearers". They loved my presentation of the poetic beauties  of the Naidu text. In the post analysis stage, I related the poem to the notion of labour, to the concept of glorifying  manual work to indirectly gloss over it. Students loved the concept, and, boy, did we have a discussion! They were passionate about how labour can be obliterated through pretty words. Well, Marx' concepts never die  however much Marxists and their critiques may obfuscate poor Marx!

Pratima@ poetry is philosophy, psychology, political economy, the works, in brief!

Rhyme time!

 Jack and Jill 

 Used to go to school

  To get a nugget of wisdom.

  But Corona came

  And online was the game

  Known as the MCQ master.

 Corona came and Corona went

 Mutant viruses surfaced after.

But all the softwares of the world

Could not education in to a whole plaster.

Pratima@ back to school

                    Ho ke  masked

                      dhoke haanh

                     chale hum!

Why the hatred?

 If one wants to comprehend love, one has to first apprehend its antonym, hatred. I have never ever understood, despite lots of  self analysis, self critique, self questioning, why xyz hates me!?! I keep on fine combing my conscience, which possible cause/reason did I provide this gentleman or that woman (difficult to call her 'a lady', and my keyboard cannot type 'that female', given my aversion to the term) that he or she and/or he and she hate me SO MUCH? 

Whatever you do or do not do irritates or bothers such people. Let me give you an instance. If they are travelling the same road and if there is no easy means of transport in sight/site, why do they hate one so much that they would wonder repeatedly and aloud if there is enough space in the regular size car for five people!?! 

After the  rare "lift kara de" in the car, which is so obviously shown to be against their will,  either they would sit in such a way that they  would literally push you out or sit on the edge of the seat as if you are so fat (though actually you could beat Kareena Kapoor black and blue when it comes to zero figure) that you are occupying the entire seat! They would drop you at the nearest bus stop (while all along reciting names of the first bus stop in sight though actually they would not even acknowledge otherwise that the PMT exists) as if you are the most unwanted thing the cat got home!

 If you were to enquire about the area, they would contemptuously misguide you in the most discourteous way. Actually, such grandees never ever bother to talk even that much to you. The mobile screen is always more attractive to them though you are indeed well known for your intelligence, wisdom and creativity. Why such behaviour? Any answers?

When it comes to serving food, the woman of such a variety would always forget to prepare a dish for you or repeatedly, occasion after occasion, which you attend out of goodness, decency and love, or family tradition, give you such small size(d) dish as if she is afraid that if you were given the regular dish, you might have an appetite larger than Bheema, and you might eat up all the food, while in reality, you never eat plain rice, and never consume more than tops two chapatis! 

 Why such hatred indeed? Such women are, moreover, so modern that even the occasional prasad, be it satyanarayana or shradha, is without fail a buffet! Anyway, she would throw food at you or serve it so hot that you cannot eat it for half an hour. The firm belief she openly reveals is that you go there to eat! As if you do not have food at your own home!

Or is the woman afraid that you might repeatedly darken the threshold of her house, sure, it is no 'home'? Well, you go there, may be, three to four times tops a year! If at all some occasion forces you to stay there, she, through, uh, her stooges, literally drives you out asap as if you might eat up everything if you were allowed to stay a minute longer. You might not even have washed your hand after the lunch, and immediately she or her stooge(s) would start advising you to leave, pretending, moreover, that it is for your own good as if resting after lunch is no good for you!

If you reach a little late because there is no bus (it would not occur to such wonders that travelling alone in a hired taxi could not exactly be safe), nobody would talk to you, none would offer you a glass of water or place to sit despite your having reached there in the blazing hot sun. If such people are so concerned about their time, they should come and fetch you, or invite you to stay overnight, right?  If you were to go there uninvited, even God would not be able to help you, given the inexplicable behaviour even when you are invited or you go there on/due to an occasion!

Are you a financial burden on them? Absolutely no way! Have you pinched their share of anything? Not at all. In fact, the woman would go out of her way to snatch away your professional and/or creative jobs through her contacts, though, of course, utmost foolish and stupid are the concerned authorities who would lose a proven wonderful hand to please 'her'! Is your family grown upwards through the largesse of that woman? Not a single pai! Nor in any way! Are you not gifting them at all? Exactly the opposite. They would anyways throw away or consciously not at all use your  precious(or, rather for them pricey would matter, I suppose) gift. Such a 'lady' would, in fact, choose the cheapest stuff as a gift, that, too, only when it is inevitable, for you as if you are a beggar. Why? Why then? No use repeating Yeats!

If they have a pet, and you commit the sin of loving the poor thing, and some three to four times a year, you give him a few biscuits or toasts, you are treated worse than all the villains in every sick film or they would drag the poor animal in the most cruel way, almost strangulate him if he moves an inch towards you or not give him a sip/drop of water.

Why? Why such naked hatred? Are they very young and so do not understand how they are behaving? No way! Have you spread any rumour against them? NO because that is the prerogative of the woman which she lets loose most willingly and repeatedly! Then why? Why such vicious meanness?

 Actually, the woman's exhibited performance with others would make one put not just one finger but the entire fist in one's mouth out of surprise! These people are niceness and goodness personified with others who are actually in no way a patch on you any which way. Why? Indeed, why? Why the conscious and knowing and organized attempt to demean, to insult you again and again and again? 

Pratima@As the poets put it, either the world is creepy or you are living in a dream that they are trying their utmost to turn in to a nightmare!

P.S. 1: If the woman's mother advises her to behave so, is the woman always so obedient?

P.S. 2 : Company indeed has a great effect, especially of the bad variety. The Marathi proverb, never the virtues but the vices are most infectious, is indeed true.

Eve of St. Valntine:What a day!

 It is yet again that time of the year

  When people die to call someone 'dear'

  In most bonds, is there any real strength?

  While to celebrate it, go they to any length?

Oh, alas, oh, alas, Saint who was crucified

As to save others' love, Thee, fervently tried

How you would rue to see a market

Booming with goodies, for nirvana a ticket

Hearts, roses, candies, gems flood the shops

The costliest to Buy, guys-n-gals madly hop

Tokenism mattereth, real love is a frost

Mea culpa, Keats, in the din, a poem lost!

Victory of goodies shines like a shooting Star

Wishing false glory, the real feel a mere scar!

Pratima@Sonnet?Limerick? or vice versa?

Memories multi-focal

 I suppose this is a very difficult aspect to mention, but, well, it is predominantly present in the Post Lata period.Well, wanna know what it is? It is the posthumous anecdotes about Latadi. The P.M. to the C.M., and beyond, everyone is overflowing about anecdotes about Latadi. Inevitable it is in a way.

Hers was a voice literally of a millennium. Not only did she sing without obvious  efforts but beautifully, she, moreover, seemed to emote, and thus enact through her lilting voice that magically created a persona for the heroine to adopt and adapt. It is but natural hence that there would be zillions of memories, each enriching kaleidoscopically the phenomenon that Latadi was.

What sears my heart is the fact that when she was alive, many of the people now gushing about/over her ill-treated her, insulted her, spread rumours about her.  Just the other day, I saw this video of hers wherein she was asked if you were to be reborn, would you like to be reborn as Lata. Her response, albeit with her trademark smile, was heart wrenching. She said, "To  begin with, I don't want to be reborn. But if I am to reborn, I do not want to be re- born as Lata." She ended the comment with a note that was quite emotional. She said Lata alone knows what it meant to be Lata!

Pratima@faraway mountains are forever fascinating.!

Critical Care

Remember Hrishida's great Anand who inhales the very Joy and positivity even when he is facing the last stage of  "lymphosarcoma of the intestines"? Very easy to watch onscreen! Well, not exactly! Remember the reticent Dr. Bhaskar? His eyes reveal the suffering induced by the fast and painful aggressive disease.

Once I got the opportunity to interview a top notch cancer specialist. Actually, they are a couple who further specialise in oncology, the systematic study of cancer.  Both of them talked of the inevitable use of morphine when the dreaded disease enters its last stage. Apparently, the extremely acute pain in the late/in the fifth stage is so unbearable that  the controlled use of morphine under medical supervision is the only answer. Hence, told me the doctor couple, the need for hospices.

They, of course, know the best. Even then I feel that the last few days of the patient should be spent on his/her own bed, at his/her own home. I feel that familiar feel makes the inevitable tolerable for the departing soul. May be, happy associations, loving/lovely memories make the suffering less bothersome, more enduring/endearing. That was why I got Aai home from the DM, despite the stiff opposition by her gerontological expert. Here, at home, I felt the well-known sights/sounds, the intimacy  of her associations would make everything peaceful, I thought. The "My last stay in my own home" feel!

Pratima@in tribute to the grounded roots that nourish the wandering branches!

Translation: The Labour of Love

 You are the moon.

  You are my sun.

  oh, you are the star 

  of my vision.

  I live n abide coz

 I can see you.

  Of this broken heart 

the pillar are you.

You are the moon

 You are my sun.

You have many a toy.

You are my only bundle of joy.

You are the fulcrum 

Tied to it is my every  dream.

Oh, my little one

Oh, my cute one

Oh, my Lilliput

Oh, my dear petit!

You are the moon

you are my sun.

Baby, you happily simper

Your doll gets a partner

Bless my heart, in her veil

The dolly is all ablush.

One fine day, you be the bridegroom

Aflush with joy,  in your bride's arms.

You are the moon.

You are my sun.

The eastern breeze in the woods

The birds in the open skies afloat

Bless, oh, dear God, my heart

Your dreams forever a flight.

Each one who would see you

Would wonder whose favourite are you.

You are the stars, you are the moon

Of my world, you are the sun!

Pratima@a tribute of a translation

                    The labour of love

Competition

 There was this video on Lata Mangeshkar which must have been very difficult for her, given the topic/theme. It was a discussion about her competitive streak. Almost brutally, she was made to comment on her sabotage of the careers of Asha, and Runa Lailla and Suman Kalyanpurkar. 

of Course, she denied the charges. What was remarkable was her poise and calmness while answering the scandalous query. She was upfront, but not aggressive, quietly stated the facts, no tantrums, no anger either.

I suppose she got that attitude from her own sufferings in the initial stages of her life. Life was as harsh as possible. Her voice being totally différent from the popular style prevailing then, she was laughed at, dismissed, humiliated. Given her tender âge, the responsibility of the family and grinding poverty, life must have been hell in those absolutely patriarchal days. She learnt the hard way that our real competition is only with ourselves. May be, since she  knew what was harassment in the worst form, she could overcome all the negativities thrown her way. Indeed our sweetest songs are born of our saddest feels!

pratima@life's lessons/arrogance lessens

A Few Habits of Latadi as a Successful Singer: Anecdotes as informal history

 After Lata Mangeshkar's sad demise, very many anecdotes are surfacing, like a sheer, re-emergent history, that  tell 'her-story'. Let me discuss a few of these here, of course, with the implied moral.

The first one is the smart repartee by Sunil Gavaskar to Noorjahan. When he was introduced to her, she said that she knew only Imran Khan. So, in turn when she was introduced to him, he said, he knew only Latadi. The anecdote reveals both his smart presence of mind and her uniqueness that even a mallika-e-tarannum had to accept. That is what excellence in a field does. So never give in, discouraged by vicious criticism or conscious opposition. They cannot cloud the rising sun of your uniqueness, albeit it might reach the zenith a tad later.

The second one is by Waheeda Rahman. She talks of how Latadi personally helped her. Not only did Latadi share the bathroom allotted to her, but when water ran out while Waheedaji was showering, Latadi personally carried two buckets of water for Waheedaji.  It shows how grounded she was, how success never went to her head, and how she helped in simple but meaningful ways.

The third one I found absolutely unique was about her run-in with Raj Kapoor over the royalty issue. When she rightfully demanded her royalty as a singer, a very brave mo(ve)ment those days, he apparently said, "This is unheard of. We do not give any such royalty. We are here for business."

 Apparently, her answer was," nor am I here as if I am here for a stroll in a park".  Her answer shows not only her self confidence but more importantly her self respect and integrity, a refusal to compromise with principles, with readiness to face the consequences. When stalwart men were ready to lick Raj Kapoor's feet, both her grit and her professionalism stand out (apparently she chose not to work with him, till he rendered an apology) thus making her the phenomenon, the legend that she was.

Pratima@to thy own self, be true!

Digging a well when thirsty

 The DHFL issue is, as I noted in an earlier blog, rather tricky, and quite tragic. Many investors, lured by the high returns, have invested their lifetime savings. On groups already existing, or on groups newly being formed, tragic tales of huge amounts, to the tune of thirty lakhs, and/or more, being invested, with only 23% principal being returned so far, are making regular and frequent appearances.

The sense of urgency  for a definitive solution by such investors being revealed NOW is understandable undoubtedly. But it is quite misplaced, too. Why did they put all the eggs in one basket? Why did they not diversify such huge amounts in different bonds/securities/shares? Why do not they question the financial advisors who misguided them so badly?

 If all had gone well with the DHFL, these very investors with such huge investments (surely, a person who can invest so much at a go would have alternative income generation sources?!?) would be rolling in the mollah, what with the principal and the interest.

 Would they have then much cared for the plight of any other group, say the labour from the unorganised sector? Very little chance! Now that they are  at the receiving end, the huge outcry without much patience and with rather melodramatic breast beating sounds rather peurile as answers to such knotty issues would not emerge overnight.

Funnier still is the attempt to take credit, to hog the whole limelight while hectoring others, while subtly playing the 'pass the buck' games. Hence it now sounds like "digging a well".

Actually the RBI grants up to ten lakhs of the account holder's money if any bank goes bust, faces similar issues. There must be a set of similar or parallel rules in place for DHFL kind of companies as well. Through the media and through the united efforts of all the investors, a solution would emerge as the government would thus be pressurised to solve the issue.

 I do think in the current budget session, there was some talk/mention of such a possibility. Need to study it. Takes time, right? Hope people would understand such  subtleties, despite their distress! Hope the government helps out this time in returning at least the principal of everybody, and designs strong measures to avoid any such anamolies in the future.

Pratima@why dig  a well, when thirsty?!?

Sound of Music Incarnate

 Hotel Sheraton, Hyderabad was the venue. Yours truly was a rookie freelancer with a major media house. I was with the Features Department basically. Since I used to write rather well and practically everyday despite my Ph.D. studies, the Features Desk Editor granted me this wonderful opportunity. I was to interview THE great Lata Mangeshkar.

We all were to wait for her for a press meet, to be followed by a personal interview. She walked in to the hall, very simple, clad in a white saree with her trademark smile.  Instinctively I stood up. The entire hall followed suit. She started to speak. What a melodious voice! If you were to close your eyes and listen to it, you would think a girl tops in her mid-twenties is talking. Such was the tenderness, softness and gentleness in her spoken voice. Literally it sounded as if hundreds of silver bells were chiming at the same time. Believe me, she was in her seventies!

More was to follow. In the evening concert, she sang till 12-ish. She sang toughest of her songs, given her concert after some twenty five years. She sang for three hours, stood all the time till the end, with a swig of water in between. The young emcee was yawning away, but the smile on Latadi's lips was as fresh as her notes. Well, a great mehfil it was, I loved it like the Bhimsen mehfil I covered. I sent, like the newspaper itself, my write up to Prabhu Kunj. A life time experience indeed!

What to say about her singing? Superb, brilliant, such words seem insufficient to describe her contribution. It was a god gifted voice,  which she honed through extremely dedicated practice. She sang with many great music directors, in different genres and styles. My personal favourites are Madan Mohan ghazals, though I adore all her other greats.

In fact, she started a new way of singing. When she began her singing career, the female voices were mostly slightly thick, rather grainy. Her beautiful soft tender notes initiated a new feminity for Bollywood heroines whom she literally gave an etheral presence.

The best description of her voice could be, I believe, Indians have not three, but four basic needs:  food, clothes, a roof over head, and Lataji's songs that for decades gave a voice to their innermost feel.

Rest in peace, Latadi. Your songs/notes would continue to give us peace forever.

Pratima @ The whole day, I have been back to 26/3, Aai's last rites!

Worth a retort?

  I am sure you, too, must have had to suffer irritating wonky cheapos who never ever seem to get the message. Thicker than rhinos are their skins. Nothing has an impact, however much and openly you may show/declare your disgust at their stupid, cheapie, wonky self-obsession.

They would spread the silliest of rumours about you. Funnier than them are the fools who (for monetary  and/or profession related reasons or for free food and liqueur?) choose to believe them even when the truth is crying out clear and loud  in their face. 

It is but obvious that both these versions of crooks of all genders have a lot of time on hand. How do they support themselves even after being thrown out or dismissed from their own workplace? It has to be the stashed away mollah illegally gotten by self and  types of wifey-ies of all genders, for certain people!

Their ugly lives become and are stinking eyesores. To hide these, they love to tarnish others with the same brush, I believe. Such creeps are indeed a pain in the neck. How to deal with them? Mostly I ignore them. Their silly stupid ugly comments are not going to drill holes in your skin, right?

But what if they think that your ignoring them is your weakness? It is then that in multiple ways they should be made to suffer a retort, right and proper. May be, the I/T department should meet them? At times, I feel, telling them, and theirs, half truths is also a strategy if they are encroaching the workplace.

 I had this awful distant  relative who would go and directly talk with the topmost authority about me, but never ever  with me, mind you,  under the guise of caring. What/why his real purpose was, I would not know. I feel after death, when they go to hell, Satan also must be shuddering at such horrors. To such people, it is worth it by showing them up by telling them half truths?

Whatever might be their motives, jealousy, envy born out of their competitiveness,  revenge for an imaginary harm since you never had anything to do with them, sadism, megalomania, craze for power, germane time pass and fun, desire to hide their ugliest lives and 'preferences', they should not be ignored because they can weave a mesh of lies that may trap fools who, too, could make your life tough.

 Confront them, if and when possible, with solid proof could be a strategy, too. No use explaining either to them or their disciples of all varieties. Beyond that, there is justice in this vast universe! Black magic and/or evil eye needs to be revealed sooner, and not later! Anyways, such praxis would bounce back on the initiator even when it was meant to harm you!

Pratima@ why suffer fools?

The Universal Language

This morning heard a very informative, interesting and lucid talk about the new currency  that has assumed centre stage in the post budget scenario. I was hence scrolling the youtube for the video. Suddenly I stumbled upon this video lecture by Sadhuguru. I found it indeed interesting because it corroborates my strong hunch about my favourite most saint in the Marathi Bhakti tradition, namely, Sant Dnyaneshwara.

Yes, I am indeed aware of the intellectual fashion, especially in post colonial contexts, for example, to "prioritise" Sant Tukarama. Well, personally, in my opinion , both are unique, special in their own ways. For sure, at least, I, lack the intellectual bravado to dismiss/diminish one, and hoist the other. I feel I am too small to even think of any such 'preference', forget attempt it.

I have my own reasons to adore/venerate Sant Dnyaneshwara.  I love him as a poet, as an organic leader, as a social reformer, as a huge scholar, as a unique human being who could transcend immense lifelong harassment to create a new language, a generous way of living, a great philosophy, to say the least.

Yet another aspect of his known life is the fact that he never glorified miracles. I have always looked differently at his ability to make a Buffalo recite the Vedas ( what great communication power) and at then incident of  the Wall walking down the Alandi wilderness when Changadeo comes to threaten him with all his might.

Right now I will not go in to my thinking about the whole of it. What struck me real hard was the fact that Sadhuguru  was saying that when you intensely think about the welfare of someone, the neuroplasticity of your ardently thought about person(s) would change for the better, too. I would some day try to explore if this was what Dnyadeva was trying in both the episodes mentioned above. In simpler terms, "the whole universe conspires..." theory of Paulo Koelho in The Alchemist. In a way, related in another mode, to the Chomsky-ian language universals?!? Need to explore further, of course.

When I think of how Manu, a stray kitten whom I literally saved from certain death, would try to 'talk' or the fabulous way Tasha integrates himself in his humans' lives, I feel ashamed that they have the largeness of soul most human beings lack. For sure, hence, the Sadhuguru premise works. What a wonderful and fruitful consciousness and conscience to develop on the Ganesh Janma day!

Pratima@the wonders of the world never cease!

Thunder and Lightning/signifying nothing

 Are you wondering why I have given such a title to the blog today? Oh, no, do not you worry, no reference whatsoever to the climate. Rather it is a Shakespearean quote that I feel is an apt metaphor for a way of expressing ideas, for instance.

Have you attended literary seminars? No? Well, some, in fact, many, of those hallowed events have celebrated speakers who use such bombastic language that often the argument underneath is zilch, while the heavily terminology enriched (or is it really challenged?) verbiage bandying oh-so-must- be used critical terms pretends to create an aura of greatness around the speaker.

Is such mode of communication innocent? I would not really know. Most often, it is elitist affectation, extremely exclusionary, while the oh-so-learned speaker goes blah, blah, blah about not much really, while all along pretending how intelligent, intellectual and democratic he/she is. At times, it appears to have a kind of shock value the way certain exploitative practices in medicine would bandy terms that 'obfuscate', one of the favourite lit crit terms in certain contexts!

True, certain concepts are complex, and may require slightly dense language. Yet if a sentence has at least four multi-syllabic or polysyllabic words that can be understood only by a mutually back scratching mafia of experts, I suppose, such a communication is exclusionary, despite the much touted democratic blah, blah, blah kind of speaker-ly pretences.

Most often, personally, I find such "grand" diction plain amusing. Yet when one remembers the great Orwell on the politics of language use, one has to grant that the underlying coterie clique-ing could be downright dangerous. Well each to his/her own! Hope one day there would be many  seminar papers that neither simplify nor use high-funda jargon that hardly conveys much!  

Pratima@literature, said Pope, is "what was oft thought/but never so well expressed". True of all good writing!

The new normal

 There was this wonderful article about the future of the internet that I read recently. It proves how brilliant technology is getting literally by the second.

Very soon the internet would totally depend on voice recognition systems. Thus, it seems, the keyboard and the mouse both would be obsolete, irrelevant sooner and, eh, faster. It appears, moreover, that the internet would more and more directly relate to our senses. The next stage hence most obviously would be that there could be chips in our bodies for better connectivity. Science fiction as reality!

Highly exciting indeed! In my opinion, however, there are the unmistakable seeds of dystopia in this new normal. Let me present a few points to explain why I think so. First and foremost, imagine the sound pollution once this new technology is introduced. Private spaces or the public sphere would literally be towers of Babel, what with everyone internet-(r)ing orally. 

Given the primacy thus of our oral, aural, and to some extent, tactile sensory processing, what would happen to our other senses? Would the visual disappear totally? How would we read, if at all? As it is, the kindle books are already getting obsolete, what with flipbooks, and what have you. Verbal  language, too, is already getting displaced with emojis, for instance! Incidentally, how would emojis be said? Or would language get more spoken than written/read, which is the Normal process of learning the first language anyways!

A much graver issue would be how would we mean, if perception would dominate? Would that imply that cognition, the current bedrock of our thoughts, ideas, concepts would disappear or would assume totally different shapes?

The real grave danger would be that if our hearts would thus literally on our tongues, how are we to control our privacy? Forget gossiping flourishing,much worse, would not we be, moreover, opener to thought control? Unlike "Inception", the Big Brother would not even need to control our dreams, if we (how) can dream at all? 

Welcome to the (b)rave (and rant, literally) world! Even if the first ideation of this new virtuality appears frightening, well, I believe strongly that there is something within the human(e) that defeats anything that is totally negative! For the time being, fingers crossed that very soon finger on the lips would not be our individual and/or social plight! 

Pratima@let the new normal not be normative!

Worth a thought?!?

 Have you read Bertolt Brecht's radical, ameliorative and innovative play entitled "The Caucacian Chalk Circle"? Obviously allegorical, it tells the story of the good servant girl who sacrifices everything for the sake of Baby Michael. His own, biological mother, runs away with her paramour and her finery.  The Revolution over, tables turned in that ferris wheel called politics, now  the mother needs the Baby Son as heir. Thus emerges a huge debate about whom the Baby belongs to. Read the great play full of sarcastic fun and great socio-economic philosophy. The play ends with a great exhortation that  those who are the best for the job, for the welfare of the activity and for the beneficiaries involved, should get the job.

Does this happen in real life? Most all, never. Look at the educational field, for example. Are lecturers chosen/appointed because they are very good at it, because they have a proven track record? No way! Those who have power and authority wield it to choose their friends, friends' friends, their own or friends' relatives/family, those who appear glamorous to them, and so on. Thus is their power retained. Who cares for the students? For the subject?For the Arts Discipline, for instance? Why, they are not even bothered about the institute that was the source of their own bread and butter for years!  

If the course is not hence a success because certain people wanted their nephews and nieces in ( and these would be the people ranting loudly  about nepotism in politics!), the powers that be can blame the pandemics, the online education, and the indifferent students! Who bothers why to accept any responsibility? Who needs accountability? So long as the coterie can scratch each other's backs, how does it matter?

Well, a little bit of power, and how it goes to people's head is best proved in academics. And they teach students!Ha!

Pratima@ powerful fish in a small tank are much worse than the worst sharks!