The best buddy

I was at Sanju's place this afternoon as May 31 is Sanju's birthday. As unmistakable as Sanju's busy, booked by the second, schedule was his Tashu's devotion to him.

Tashu, Sanju's lovely beagle, literally never lives away from Sanju or leaves his side even for a second. Anyways, dogs adore the "spread self in all possible directions" 'asan' always, but especially in summers. 

 Given the horribly hot summer this time, Tashu is no exception to this rule. But that spread mutt avatar of his is also at Sanju's feet, centimetres away from Sanju's 'work from home' desk.  If he has to re-curl himself, as is dogs' wont, it is within the radius of exactly a feet, tops, away from Sanju.

When he was a puppy, Tasha used to literally cry if he could not locate Sanju in the room. Of course, Sanju, too, used to actually care for him as if he was a baby. Named after Kunal's favourite toy, Tasha was not merely a playmate, but a joy in their lives.

I remember once Sanju, and family, had gone out. Tasha was real happy in our company, mine and Aai's. The moment he, however, heard the doorbell which told him Sanju was back, he forgot us all, and followed Sanju at his heels, heavy sleep in his eyes and his huge coverlet on his back.

He sits at Sanju's feet when Sanju is playing his flute, literally like the dog on the HMV icon, 'his master's voice'.  Often reminds me of Jimmy, our childhood buddy, who, too, loved Sanju the best.

How dogs thus interweave their lives with us is unbelievable. They can visualise only two colours, black and white, apparently, and yet they distinctly 'see' us. They understand our language as if they have trained themselves at special tuitions. They talk to us in multiple modes. Whether we understand their moods can be a moot question though.

Such best buddies, faithful souls they are that legends and literature are full of the tales of their total commitment, their pure devotion. The best, of course, is Ulysses'. After literally the 'adventure, ahoy' seafaring while returning home after the Trojan war, Ulysses is quite unrecognisable, given his tattered clothes and beggared looks. 

The only two faithfuls to immediately acknowledge him are his parent like nanny and his doggie. Even Penelope who spent a lifetime saving self (and his rightful kingdom) for his sake cannot locate him that instantly. Two loves indeed that are deep, selfless, genuine, and beyond any motives! Well, no wonder, the anagram of 'dog' can be 'god'!

Pratima@ Sanju has a little beagle/ a little dog with a golden heart/ And wherever that Sanju is/ you would find Tasha, and that is no art!

Fine forever?

 The applied version of psychology thrown at us everywhere, in newspapers, magazines, on the internet has one in thing in common, however different the medium may be. Wanna know that LCD? 

That lowest common denominator is the "be happy" mantra. True, indeed given the dismal contexts today, it is not only important, and enough, to be happy, but also to consciously make efforts to be happy. Undoubtedly!

What worries, harries, even irritates me is the compulsion therein, the need to be 'fine forever'. In my opinion, such rigidity may make it big business for certain people selling the various merchandise for such a state , but such a bazzar, such a market makes happiness cheap, nay, impossible.

For one thing, it may make happiness an external, an object-oriented, obsession, while happiness is actually a contentment generating internalised process. Happiness can never be a product. 

As a process, it could go wrong, it may at times, miss the mark, but the passionate pursuit never stops. In the process, happiness may actually result in unhappiness as per the individual involved and the context concerned, too, which is absolutely acceptable as a stage.  Hence my objection to the " be happy" dead end, a road to nowhere, not "fine", but 'fine', very difficult, nay, impossible, to pay!

Pratima@The only thing that can make you happy is being happy with you as you are, as Goldie Hawn puts it.

Being a teacher

 Being a teacher is indeed fun. You feel so fulfilled when a student calls you up from a foreign land just to let you know that he is indeed doing real well, and thanks you profusely and genuinely from the heart just for helping him along. The tone is confident, friendly, and you feel great witnessing a growth you encouraged.

Then there is this student who includes you both in her happiest moments and when she is deep down in doldrums just because she could not clear one minor interview or some entrance exam. You feel her tears even across the plastic and metal mobile. You feel with her, for her as if you are her best friend, her closest relative. You console her, do everything in your capacity to cheer her, encourage her, and, voila, a year or so later, the same sensitive girl is bubbling with enthusiasm and happiness that all is now  well, in fact, great. The deep satisfaction you feel is priceless.

Indeed being a teacher is great. It teaches you a lot. You are constantly learning how to teach better, for example, especially when in front of you are committed, genuine, intelligent minds eager to grow. You learn to empathise more and more. Their energy, their enthusiasm are eternally contagious, too.

It is indeed wonderful when you teach them literature. I have seen real crooks, manipulation master students confessing to me how Hardy's "Jude, the Obscure" moved them deeply, especially because I had related the narrative to our own immediate contexts.

 Students whom you have taught  fiction,  poems, plays passionately seem to remember you forever. Even when they might have bunked a lecture or two, they would later tell you most nostalgically how they loved the lectures, the discussions, and how they never met a teacher better than you. Each time there is an academic problem to face, or, at times, even when a personal irritating issue bothers them, they remember you. The now real grown up students,whom you meet after a decade or so, touching your feet in public places or on a busy road is sure a little awkward, but pleasant, too.

Special are students indeed when, despite their tight busy schedule, they are willing to participate in any cultural and/or literary activity just because it is your brain wave. No wonder, the Language Lab programmes, the film shows, film making small little workshops one arranged have capacity full audience ready to contribute every which way. 

Literature students would even attend non credit courses just because you are teaching them. Every activity, be it a wall magazine or a small little seminar, brims over with genuine creativity and fascinating imagination. Being a teacher is indeed great fun!

Pratima@Teachers plant seeds of development that forever grow. 

Learn (a)new!

 Currently learning is more of a process of unlearning or de-learning, and re-learning. The major cause behind this "make it (a)new" process is, of course, the technology which is literally changing by the day. Well, when technology changes, it changes the very paradigm of thinking, of being and of becoming.

Change has always been inevitable. Now, however, it has a quicksilver quality! Look at the media, for example. In a country like ours, for seven to eight decades in the last century, it was only the radio and the newspapers, with films as a game-changer at times. The t.v. set, the record player, the tape recorder were quite some novelty even in the mid-eighties. 

Come 1990's, and the whole paradigm changed, and not merely economically. If my parents' generation knew only an Amin Sayani who was an entertainer, my nephews' generation knows standup comedians to very effective influencers who come from unthinkable places, unknown backgrounds and unheard-of contexts as now a multimedia mobile can make you the 'most subscribed', and the most influential.

The flip side is double. On the one hand, so much is the explosion of information and opinion makers that it is mere  "sound and fury" which you have to sift most carefully so that you do not waste your energy on time-pass "signifying nothing." Yet another, and rather tragic, consequence is that celebrities are dime a dozen, and forgotten within a month, if not earlier!

Tough times that make you learn every thing anew! During such revivals of  de-learning and re-learning, there is a deep need for standing firm as per tried and tested  values and principles so that change does not carry us away like the huge tsunami!

Pratima@ We can never stop learning coz technology never stops teaching us how to go on living!

What to teach/That is the question!

 One of the topics I teach students is the concept of advertising. Of course, as per the demands of the course, the syllabus, the exam-centricity of the current academic praxis, the marks-ist focus of most all students, it has to be merely the basic, introductory stuff such a cursory glance at the grid, at storyboarding, for instance. 

Apparently, it is very creative. I have given them, for instance,  an assignment wherein the students actually design an ad. The medium could be the print medium or the audio or the audio-visual. In other words, it could be an ad for a newspaper/a mag or for a community radio/ some "RJ" types or for the TV and/or the internet.

Ideally, I would have liked it a lot if the students had actually created the ads as a pair or as a group activity. The print ones, i could have put on the wall magazine; the audio and audio-visual ones on the college site, for example. Right now, i can only tell the students that this could be a step towards creating a portfolio, given such realities as limited available time, the multiple tests, and hence their lack of interest/enthusiasm, and so on 

In my opinion, that is what is the real problem, the half-hearted measures. In another commerce college, for instance, given the autonomy, I had included in the syllabus interesting vocabulary development possibilities, genuine and necessary probabilities of students preparing project reports, LOR's, statements of purpose/sop's about self, and other such stuff they would require in their future careers. The moment I lost any say in the syllabus design, without even listening to my argument regarding such issues,  an irrelevant nineteenth century text was introduced.

Actually, an attempt should be made to prepare students who are ready to face a challenge at the international level. Instead we have absolutely irrelevant texts. There is hardly any attempt to relate the linguistic ability in a focussed way to their growth as professionals and as human beings.  Indeed, a case of 'what to teach/that is the question'!

Pratima@"Education is the passport to the future. For tomorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today," says Malcolm X.

Harassment

 Hateful are those who harass

 Against innocence with a bias.

 Rancour, hatred and meanness

 Add to it,  sheer cheap cowardice.

 Sick of mind, silly in behaviour,

 Seem such sleek fools truly bovine.

  Mad heads theirs  are full of vapour

  Empty their skulls, nothing divine.

  Not to be ignored is such nuisance.

 Truly, hell is such devils' destined residence!

  Pratima@ Those who harass, mere sadists!

                     Be not afraid of queer terrorists!

                      Harassment!

                       Forgetting it is difficult. 

                        Memories of it are an insult.

                        To 

                         All that is genuine.

                         All that is divine.

Benevolence

 There was this lovely video on the status of our acquaintance. The video showed a rather healthy, big fat cat stalking a pigeon. Cats belong to the tiger family. There is extreme caution in their aggressive and quite vicious stalking of the prey. 

May be, it is my perception, but the cats, big or small, ooze extreme cruelty while chasing their future feed.  This cat seemed no exception in its noiseless chase of the poor victim who absolutely seemed unaware of the impending danger.

The cat reached the pigeon, and then she realised it was blind. Wonder of wonders, the kittie did not eat it up. Instead she smelt it, touched its beak and pate, and skulked back without much ado. At that moment, she appeared to become aware of the camera that she had not noticed in her focussed obsession with the bird.

The video was a great eye-opener. How little we understand animals! What wonderful generosity and gentle kindness of an animal known to be a fierce predator! We call ourselves evolved human beings. Yet very very few so called humans would have/exhibit such decent generosity towards a fellow human being caught in a difficult situation not of his/her making. Most humans would make the life of the poor unhappy unfortunate soul sheer hell. Whosoever, and why, calls human beings better?!?

Pratima@Angels are all around us, often even in the animal kingdom. Recognise them, and cherish the benevolence, basic to the very notion of creation.

Happy Brothers' Day

 Brothers are the best buddies in this world. But inevitable it is. You have shared with them the first formative years of your life. So it is not just the blood that flows through, courses constant in your veins that you share. It is the basic personality profiles that become the real matching genes actually, right?

In my opinion though, more than buddies, brothers are more of mini daddies. Remember Laertes' advice to Ophelia? Though not exactly as much  speechifying as the Shakespearean model, a brother   can pull you up  without uttering a word, with just a look, a curt glance that lets you know you have goofed up something somehow, the best mode of  bringing you back to the reality check(-n-mate), right?

In fact, often brothers do not need to talk to you. A loquacious bro, the life of any party, would sit with you in a room as if he is on the mute, and you are born deaf. And yet he perfectly understands what hurts you, would even extend a support you never even asked for. Subtly but surely, through his actions, he would side with you. Well, is not it a truism that actions speak louder than words?

Happy Brothers' Day to the real heroes in our lives who are the pillars that bolster the parlours of life. An affection that never is showy, a bond that never is heavy!

Pratima@ Brothers are like the ears and the  eyes. They help you walk straight down the narrow slippery path called life!

Invite!

 Rain,  Dear Rain, come fast, come soon.

Again be with us, and our selves prune.

In thy company flourisheth Life full.

Ever bloometh hope, like a seedling cool.

Come fast, come forever, and let thy gentle

 fragrance rejuvenate lives like a soft petal.

Rain, Dear Rain, come fast, come, Monsoon.

Let lives burnish again like the full moon!

Pratima@Hope the rainy season listens to my ardent "prayful" request!

We have soaked ourselves a lot in the sun./ Let us now dance lots in and with the rain!

Meeting again

 Aai's friend, Medha Tai, was here at Mukund Nagar this evening. She was Aai's homeopath as well. They were good friends during her Wood Land stay with Sanju. Aai used to be very happy there. She participated in many activities there.

I remember one day she was literally fleeting like a butterfly from one activity to another, enjoying each. The morning 'kakad arti', the afternoon singing class, the evening Elderly Club Meet. The day was full. She was tired, but happy, too.

Comparatively here in Mukund Nagar, there were fewer such activities, and surely not in the immediate vicinity as in the Wood Land premises. So she switched gears, and busied herself with properly studying Dyaneshwari, Geeta and Gatha, and appearing for the examinations conducted by the Geeta Dharma Mandal. For all these courses, she studied genuinely, with a proper time table, and got excellent results. She was among the first, the top, three for both Geeta and Dyaneshwari exams.

Remembered her acutely yet again because Medha Tai used to always praise her for never ever gossiping nor grumbling about the daughter-in-law, and such silly stuff, typically the gossip elderly women exchange amongst themselves or when they meet the doctor!

A full, happy life she led which must often be celebrated each time you meet her again through her friends and acquaintances!

Pratima@ A good life is a collection of happy memories, writes Dennis Waitley.

Chai pe charcha

 Today happens to be the World Tea Day. On such a special day, chai pe charcha to banati hi hai! Absolutely perfectly in order. Like the morning cuppa that sets the tone of the day. The morning cuppa for most all people is like begining the day with a picnic, it is often said.  

 Well, actually, I must confess that I am a coffee person. A sip of the divine drink, perfectly blended, literally makes the morning heavenly. I do drink dark coffee. For sure.

 Coffee is such a Southie drink by now.  The lovely aroma of home ground "kapi", percolated in the special decoction appliance, that pervades typical "Tambram" houses, can energise any and every wor(l)d weary travel vlog scribbler.Tea, on the contrary, has a more chequered colonial history. Yet each to his preferences!

Tea, too, is no less rocking.  The morning newspaper, with the morning cuppa, would be the elixir of life for many. In brief, where there is a cup of tea, there is hope, health and happiness, right? 

There  are so many varieties of tea, too. Sanju had bought for Aai a unique rose sprinkled tea powder from Munnar. I used to make that tea only for her birthday on March 19, and on the 'Holi' day, her birthday according to the Hindu calendar. Now only the scented powder in that lonely bottle remains, alas!

Aai  loved her morning cup. So regular was she with the first cup that our erstwhile Bai used to make it a point to reach our home at 6 a.m. to 'partake' of it. Aai enjoyed her tea, but she did not  discard the wastage, either.  It would go to the potted plants that thrived a la Jagdish Chandra Bose effect.

Papa never drank tea. He was basically a milk person who would occasionally enjoy a coffee, not the instant one, but the typical Maharashtrian concoction with oodles of sugar and cardamom powder. And yet he always got special tea leaves/ tea powder for her.

Well, their basic likes that would begin a typical day were so very different, and yet their togetherness was perfectly blended, like the ideal tea with the right quantity of tea powder, dash of lemon grass and ginger, milk and sugar. All the tastes,  sugary sweet, hot and spicy like the ginger and lemon grass, bitter like the boiled tea leaves, wholesome like the right quantity of milk, all the ingredients uniquely blended in boiling hot water. Like life itself!

Pratima@ Blake saw the universe in a grain of sand. Why not find the eternal life in a tea leaf?

Divided but United

 Divided but United are the nations of the world right now.  Yes, human beings divide the world through 'imagined' border lines such as religion, race, not to forget the region. Why revise the other dividers such as caste, language, gender, class, notions that diversify the nation!

Yet in the post liberalised, 'glocal' world today, do such divisions matter really? On the contrary, so many versions of very many fusions have been manifest since the millennium began. Divided we stand, United we suffer seems to the new proverbial wisdom now.

Let me provide a few concrete examples to prove my point. Circa 2000, it was the computer virus, the doomed Y2K bug, which was to crash the internet the world over. Was not this the bug that began the exodus of average Indians, unlike the real 'brain drain' of the late sixties and early seventies?

Next circa 2008, it was the Lehmann crisis that rendered many in a homeless,eh, rather hopeless state. Then the Middle East erupted.  Was not  this the 'spring'  that made life world wide in to a desert?

Nothing could beat our dear friend Corona though. Literally overnight, Vision 2020 became Mission Vaccine in every Covid count(r)y. Whosoever could be the perpetrators, united the world was in suffering the pandemic.

Before we could properly chant 'go, Corona, go', the Afghan tragedy loomed large on the world horizon, proving yet again how United the states and nations of the world are, though divided by the very terrorism lurking behind such 'we versus they' vision.

While the world was just tottering out of the reeling aftermath of the Taliban takeover, here we are already facing the shock waves every which way released by the Ukraine war, not to forget the Sri Lankan crisis.  Indeed united we lose, whatever possibly could be the mode, the method, the materials of the division!

Pratima@"Turning and turning in a widening gyre/ the falcon cannot hear the falconer/things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;/Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world" as W.B.Yeats would put it.

Are we already back in/to the early years of the last century which W.B.Yeats thus described? Have we made it to the past without a time machine, too?!?

Happy is Lucky

 There is this phrase, 'happy go lucky'. The title of our blog today plays on it. Indeed happy IS Lucky.

There are very many definitions of luck. For some, luck is being born with a platinum spoon in one's mouth. Well, i do believe that such a state would have its own problems, too. If you are born that stinking rich, may be, your every movement as a child is guided not by love and joy, but by bouncers for whom a gun is  a toy!

Very many may think that being popular is sheer luck. I am not exactly sure though. Popularity is very fickle. Quicksilver might be more stable than popularity. In today's times of 'a celebrity a second', being popular is getting yourself in to trouble eternally. Well, you would thereafter be remembered only as a focus for threats, calumny, hateful scandals, and thus the so-called popularity would wound your vanity, making you mighty miserable.

I feel hence that being happy is being lucky. Thus your luck is under your own total control coz each time you are happy, you would feel full even to desire anything more at all. Lucky you, right? The choice of whatever can make you lucky is thus absolutely yours. You have to just indulge yourself, right? A thanda, thanda, cool, cool ice-cream on a sweltering hot noon is sheer luck as it is happiness quotient itself.

Beginning with such basics to ideas central to soul and heart, all that is happy is lucky. Reading a good book, sheer happiness oblique luck formula, right? Listening to superb music, can anyone be luckier than that? The list is endless, so is your happiness. In brief, the real lucky charm is within you, you and your happiness!

Pratima@Happiness and/or luck is a journey, never the destination, right?

The enemy within

 The title may make you think that I am going to talk of some spiritual matter. Well, not really. I suppose though that my theme today might make that journey easier, too .

Yes, I am going to talk of 'high blood pressure'. It is indeed a physical condition, but it affects our entire being, and hence becoming. Hence the acute need to talk of it. 

Why do I  call it the enemy within? Well, once detected, it is forever going to be with you, even when under control. Why call it an enemy within? First and foremost, it is quite a Trojan horse, in brief, highly deceptive, and, next, completely destructive.

In fact, it is so harmful that it affects every centrally important organ within the human body. It can affect the kidneys, for instance. As kidneys begin to fail, the entire blood subtly but surely and swiftly  starts getting poisoned from within.

Much worse is the way it can affect eyes. It can diminish, even totally destroy, the eyesight, and much worse and more effectively than any gadget. 

This enemy within is so subtle that such horrific effects advance silently, but surely, and never slowly. The worst example of its total destruction is the way it can affect the heart and the head.

In fact, it is pumping of the blood flow from and to the heart, a natural and normal process that begins with the birth, goes         a-rhythmic which causes this horrific condition affecting the blood vessels that thicken, and may lead to an irregular blood flow, and hence finally a  heart attack.

This silent enemy hates the brain the most. It can diminish memory, for instance. It can cause hemorrage in the skull, leading to a build up of pressure within, with disastrous effects. It leads to a stroke, and a partial or total control over muscles, leading to a paralysis.

How to control it? As it is a life style disease, it is absolutely possible to contain it from within. The best buddy of oneself one has to be in such a situation. Once that happens, you eat proper, rest well, and so on.

Most importantly, as you are your own best buddy, you do not require any approvals from outside. You give every activity your best within the context, and to the fulfilling process leave the rest. The daunting disapprovals, the knowing ganging up, the vicious and conscious harassment, nothing affects you then.

Instead you find lot of 'me space' and 'me time' which makes you a better version of yourself by the day. The moment you start this journey of befriending yourself, the enemy within matters the least. 

So eat well, rest well, be yourself and to the eternal justice in-n-of this vast universe, leave the rest!

Pratima@Honest self assessment is the best medicine.

The buzz wor(l)d

 While explicating figures of speech as a major aspect of literary appreciation through phonetic design, 'buzz' is an important word. In the literary context, it is often quoted as the best example of onomatopoeia, that is, the sound reflecting the sense. The very word shows the movement of the bee, indeed a unique creature in this world.

A symbol of hard and sincere work, this wee, teeny-weeny  existence is centrally important to our very way of the world. It is the fulcrum of the very eco system. If the apocryphal story enjoys any truth value, Einstein is believed to have maintained that the whole human race will vanish in four days if we manage to delete the bee from our midst. She is not a bother, she is a helpmeet as she pollinates in a huge way in her search of honey.

It is a very difficult work, hopping from flower to flower, gathering droplets of honey, and later transfer the honey thus gathered to the beehive. The worker bees perform this very difficult task in a very disciplined and selfless way. They prepare the unique beehive with finesse and bees' wax. It has a unique hexagonal  structure, at the center of which, laying eggs, stays the 'queen bee', always a unique symbol of importance and power, especially of the feminine variety.

The division of labour is unique, precise and yet elegant, The work may indeed thus be worship. Hence its very structure buzzes, both with a lovely sound, and with joy.

 Believe me, the bees have a quite advanced communication system that I always quote while explicating the differences between human and animal communication, and to some extent, cognition.

The buzz word is hence a metaphor for the major idea doing the rounds at any given time. So closely knit is this tiny bee with us that to be a bee or not to be cannot be the question. No wonder, the buzz word is  the world!

Pratima@Domesticated but never tamed, the bee can stand for our communication. Let it always be honeyed, and should never sting.

The Lovely Landscapes

 I suppose, most all would share this dream. To be in Cherapunji atop a hill, and to watch the advancing monsoon clouds. I believe, the very vision would make one a minor Kalidasa. 

I have often visualised to myself the possible sight. Literally elephantine clouds, with the same greyish, black-bluish complexion, advancing on the horizon majestically, and then the trumpets of the winsome monsoon.

 I do not know why, may be, because I have always associated such a momentous monsoon with the gentle, intelligent elephant image, i cannot mix in the threatening lightening, (Aai used to be very wary of it, she would always remember the way Muktai was literally swallowed up by the crashing crushing lightening) and thunder into this mindscape of mine.

The other day I saw this small little clip of a kid, possibly an urchin, prancing away to glory at some unknown Kerala coast. The waves approaching the coast were double his height at least, but absolutely unafraid, in fact, unaware, of these eager waves rushing to the coast, he was enjoying the monsoon mood, the happy feel, clad  merely in his birthday suit.

This evening I saw yet again yet another  beautiful video of the monsoon meeting some gentle backwater kind of water body. It could be a stream or a lake, the geography was unknown, and hordes of duck gaggles continued entering and rafting away down the stream exuberantly, and yet in an  absolutely disciplined way. The birds paddled away as if the stream were their real hone, possibly it could be, too. So absorbed appeared they  in the feel that most had forgotten to quack, quack, too. 

What simple but lovely landscapes abound at every nook and corner, just "beside/behind a mossy stone" to quote Wordsworth. Luckily, "long after the scene" was forgotten, but if "in pensive mood" , then they "flash upon the inward eye", "the real bliss of solitude" to quote Wordsworth yet again!

Pratima@Be it the Sahyadris or the Himalayas, nature awaits us in its pristine beauty and glory.

What is there in a name?

 What is there in a name? A rose by any name smells the same! Remember the quote? This summary of it initiates our blog today. Yes, it is Juliet asserting the power of love.

Well, all is fair in love, but when it comes to the name game, I would like to differ with the greatest author ever. Well, my submission is that Shakespeare did not meet modern medical practitioners, nor did he have anything to do with modern medicine. If he were to get in to contact with either, he would surely have changed his opinion.

The name game or nomenclature in modern medicine is often more terrorising than the disease itself! Want proof? Okay! You are suffering from 'edema', says the expert. Means what? Swelling, simply! You have concussion. Translated in to daily lingo, it often means a bump 'coz you hit a hard surface.

First when I heard that Aai suffered from ischemia, my mouth went dry with worry and fear. In no time, i found out that it meant sudden loss of supply of blood to an organ, most often the brain or the heart. Of course, it is a medical emergency. Simplified, however, it causes less anxiety indeed.

You know what is maculopapular lesion, right? The simple itchy rash. Sure it needs treatment, but you need not worry much too much, okay? Would  you agree with me if I were to say that 'fever' is better than 'temperature'? Myocardial infarction, anyone? 'Heart attack' you would get just by listening to the term!

Remember the scene in "Anand" when the protagonist describes his disease? Well, precisely my point! Experts need the jargon for precision so very necessary in the field of  medicine and medical research. Absolutely agreed with! 

In the general communication with the hapless relative or the patient, is jargon necessary? Well, anyways, everyone has a multimedia mobile these days, and can diagnose the terms immediately, right?

Effective communication, i believe, is indeed important in certain spaces. Education is one such field. Who are students comfortable with? With the great learned Prof who bandies impossible terms or with the lady who yearns to make her students learn the concepts, the ideas involved, the underlying structures, for instance? Is she simplifying the concept in the process? Not really. She is in fact trying to lead the learner from the known to the unknown, right?

Undoubtedly, at the doctoral/research level, certain critical jargon could be normal. The same principle applies to medical practice, i believe. To acquire precision, so very centrally important in the medical field, given the life-n-death situation, accurate terms must be used.

While talking to the hapless relative or the patient, why terrify the scared souls already half dead with worry? Is it because now rules the specialist in the medical kingdom that high funda terms need to be bandied? Remember the  G.P., the "doctor uncle", a species almost extinct these days, whose very sweet talk made you feel better when you just 'saw' him, in all the senses of the term 'see'?

I suppose empathy is the base of any good communication, and in the medical connect, it requires a  'patient' listen-in to the inner identity of the suffering person so that his/ her journey from illness to wellness gets facilitated and expedited! What is there in a name indeed? A disease is dis-ease anyways!

Pratima@'Doctor, heal thyself' of brand(ed) terms!!!

Wisdom

 For quite some time, i have not attempted an acrostic. So here is an attempt at writing an acrostic on 'wisdom', the rarest acquisition in these times of "information explosion" and "opinion(ated) tsunamis"!

Wisdom is an entity laughable now

 In todays's times of clowns, and how!

 Sense is a-lacking, and 'per view' changes.

Dominant aggression everything manages!

On whom to rely, that is the moot question.

Markets make minds, wisdom desires none!

Pratima@"Never, no, never did Nature say                        one thing and wisdom another."                          Thus argues Edmund Burke.

Reminiscent!

 Because of Aai, so many people entered my life. Oh, no, I am not referring to the obvious, that is, my immediate family. Nor am I referring to the entire legion of the maternal relatives.

I am talking about people who were like the satellites to her daily life. Rasika, her physio of about seven years, could be an example. Actually, she stayed just a lane away, but I got to know her because of Aai.

 Aai used to wait for her daily visit wherein there used to be exercises, of course, but also light hearted banter, quite a bit of up-to-date information about Mukund Nagar Rasika would know much, much better than I would.

Aai used to share all her joys. When she acquired her degree formally, Aai insisted on an at-home party for her. Special gifts for Rasika on the occasion of Diwali and her birthday were a must. Aai would have been very happy today as Rasika gave a housewarming party today.

All of Aai's doctors were quite friendly, too. I remember once Aai had to be admitted to Mangeshkar Hospital at about 1 a.m. as she started grasping for breath. Her gerontologist, Dr. Tamane, was there at her beside at 3-ish. I was speechless with gratitude. 

Earlier when Aai was at Mangeshkar for a longer admission, Dr. Tamane and his team were literally godsend angels. That stay alongwith her on the seventh floor of the old building of the hospital is etched on my memory for 'why doctors are 'warriors' and what medical science can do'.

Her eye surgeon, Dr. Kale, her knee specialist, Dr. Gokhale, the ear surgeon who would come home for a dekko, such specialists have been a solace, too.

The Khare couple, too, have been my go-to destination for minor  medical complaints that are major for an aged patient. In fact, just a day before she passed away, I had insisted that Dr. Khare should give Aai a thorough check-up which he managed at 11.30 p.m.,  next 'he' went to the nearby medical shop to get some tablets he prescribed and were urgently needed. When I called him up on March 26 at 4.30ish, he was there ASAP. 

Amit, her nephew, would tolerate my umpteen worries at about 10.30 p.m when his OPD wd get over. In fact, once my brother wondered why i bothered Amit as he would anyways be so far away. But if it were a genuine but minor issue for which I could not take her to Mangeshkar, i used to depend on him as much as on the Khare couple.

Rasika had great faith in her colleague from Ranka Hospital. The gentleman, almost Aai's age, would at times come for a home visit, and tolerate my discussion of alpha and beta blockers as B.P. medicines, despite being an M.D.!

Pritam Rathod of Rathod Medicos was such a huge help so many times that it would be presumptuous even to thank him. He would procure and deliver medicines home if suddenly urgently required. So many times he has helped me get Aai back to her bed if she suffered a minor fall or a serious ischemic incidence. In fact, he acceded to my request to get Aai's death certificate from Dr. Khare, the last but truly unforgettable help for Aai.

Last, but surely not the least, the Mavashi's! They were indeed inevitable. Sure, they were a bother in multiple ways with their delays, their lies, their casual attitude to an aged patient as the living ATM!

 But some of them genuinely cared for Aai, like the very first Mavashi sent by Sanju. No wonder, Sunita Tai, who used to say that our home was her second 'maher', remembered Aai deeply on the first "Holi" without her.

So many others entered the sphere of Aai's life as a patient, like Mr. Sheikh of Golvilkar Lab who could gently draw the necessary quantity of blood for the customary tests without hurting her, given her fragile veins or the Columbus Mobile x-ray van people who had got to know our address almost by heart! 

Well, in brief, being a caregiver made me meet, talk to, understand an entire cross section of our society. I am deeply grateful to those experiences.

Yet meeting them again pries open that wound of her eternal loss, despite the apparent hemeostasis.

Pratima@ A journey becomes interesting because of the travellers you meet along the way.

Work as Worship

 It is a typical argument these days that currently none cares for work. Work place is more a place for furthering self, of making the right contacts, of power games, of petty politicking, it is presumed.

It is such a pleasure to meet people who prove this worthless rule wrong. Possible to argue that even in this case, the exceptions prove the rule. For me what matters the most is that exceptions exist, however rare!

My own brothers (pleonasm absolutely out of pride, please) are the best examples of such exceptions. Often, my brother, he,  has no time for proper food at the right time, but he would carry on with his work. It is indeed sweet to see his doggie who keeps a vigil by him, wait for him, call him for lunch. The cute sight made my nephew's special day absolutely unique for me. MNC, for such a genuine employee, means My Natural/Normal Commitment, I suppose.

My other brother leaves his place as early as 5.30 a.m., drives some hundred and fifty kilometres in the morning rush so as to reach on time and start teaching at 8.30 sharp. Neither lashing rains nor hot summers deter him ever. For his son's marriage, he took hardly ten days' leave. Both my brothers are thus following in my dedicated father's footsteps, and I am extremely happy and proud to belong to such a family.

Then there is this colleague of mine. Actually she teaches a very dry,  quite theoretical subject. But she herself is always a fount of enthusiasm and energy. Be it conducting exams online for the first time or organising an arts fest in literally no time, she is always bang on her duty. There are not any presumptions nor irritations nor eternal complaints.  She would always be ready with an answer to every and any query. Silent, efficient, sincere work, duty done/performed most selflessly.

I have written this blog to celebrate such genuine people with whom it is indeed a pleasure to be associated. It must be remembered, I think, that institutions, whether MNC's or colleges/universities, survive successfully because of such genuine employees. A grand building or two, posh decor do not make a workplace. It is the quality of the people who are committed to their work that makes (or mars) a workplace. The worth of such passionate  people is priceless. They must be encouraged, cheered, congratulated. Hence this blog!

Pratima@The theme of the blog is so genuine that I did not at feel like using emojis. Ideally, the pics of such wonderful people need to adorn my blogpost. I have not taken their permission, for one thing, and, moreover, they are the sort who might even get embarassed with such a tribute that they undoubtedly, absolutely deserve! Atta, guys! Impressed with your sincerity!

Back to Basics?

 In the new avatar of our blog, i would be exploring the visual possibilities. 🎥🎞️🎬 Yes, i would like to make it a vlog, too, at least partially.💻 I would by and by try and explore the different visual modes and moulds 

In that direction, right now i have started using the emojis.😀 Personally I am not much in favour of the emoticons. 🙈🙉🙊But small steps can lead to a big jump, right? Right now, however, i have to do with them.

Why am I wary of emojis? Well, i think they take away the pure verbal effect of the language and make it pictorial.  🤔This picture dependency is not innate, moreover, unlike the Japanese kanjis.🈶

Moreover, the emojis always give me a regressive feel. One feels one is back in to the era when all those pictorial scripts were prevalent. 💪🤟🖖n my opinion, such a step takes away multiple communicative qualities and possibilities of a language. No go right now without them! In distress, a fool, too, can be your buttress!

Pratima@do emojis emote or do they hinder meaningful communication?

Beginning anew!

 Our blog enters a new phase today.🥰It is already a year old🎂. As it thus progresses, let us now add to it visuality as well. 🤠

No, there would not any compromise content wise. In fact, there would be an attempt to make it equally, if not more, sensible and mature. Yet let us see if it could possibly be a vlog, a visually enriched blog, okay?

All of us born in the first half of the month of May, specifically from April 20 to May 20, are supposedly Taureans😀. Great company we share, beginning with "🥳THE🥳" Shakespeare.  Born creative, right?

Personally, I find such "sign"atures rather funny.🤡🤡🤡 Believe me though, in this twenty first century, in 2022, in the post-Covid era, despite the pandemic that none could predict, there are people who ask you your sun sign the moment you meet them. 

I find that quite crazy 🙄and rather frightening 😱 because it means they are going to gauge you as per some 'common quotient ' determinants. Without getting to know you, they are going to sit in judgement over you👩‍🎓. Indeed , tough and unjust proposition, would not you agree? Such 'Daniel come to judgement ' types, as our co-"sign"-ee, the great Will, would put it,  are better avoided! What say? Let me know both your response to "sign"scaping and the vlog avatar of our Blog!🤓

Pratima@ it is on, the new year and the new avatar, of our vlog!

A blog in the year of grief

 The title, so obviously a word play on the famous Marquez title, captures my elemental feelings and passion that initiated this blog exactly a year ago, that is, on May 9, 2021, the Mother's Day last year. It was started as a tribute to Aai, and, oh, yes, of course, to Papa. It was also a tributary to my unbearable grief then that sure needed a creative channelising.

Yes, I did not miss a single day or date. Stayed up late at night to fulfil a kind of promise to myself and to their memories. Often it literally used to be a case of "and the blog to type/before I sleep/and the blog to publish/ before I sleep". 

Managed 251 posts last year, May to December, 2021 and 129 posts till date this year. Not exactly a bad score, i would like to say. How about the readers, the doubting Thomases may ask, right? Well, in addition to the regular readers who read my wapp status and the attached blog everyday, there seem to be a few other anonymous readers as well. The last count of footfall is seven thousand three hundred twenty so far.

Not bad because it clearly proves that the 'private could easily be personal'. No, in the initial mourning year, i  did not use any visuals, though i may start now. Never ever was there any sentimental exhibitionism. And yet it was read regularly. Could that mean that indeed our blogs, too, are made of saddest thoughts well expressed, a combo of Shelley and Pope of all the poets. Both would sure forgive me, their ardent fan.

Yes, hereafter, i may open the blog to Google view, too. This okay-ish attempt has also encouraged me to soon start another blog dedicated to literature. Let us see! As far as this blog goes, a year later, i do have a deeply cathartic and yet a  very happy feel. Atta, my blog!

Pratima@"Write what should not be forgotten", as Isabel Allende would put it.

"Writing, to me, is thinking through my fingers," argues Issac Asimov. As ever, I would agree with him completely, as my blog is now a year old baby.  

 It never made me feel despair, and always helped me explore newer ways of being and becoming!

Mother's Day

 Yet another Mother's Day without Aai! Last year the wound was very raw. This year there is a hemostasis.That is to say, the wound does not ooze tears constantly. Yet, even now, fourteen months later, i often seem to forget the fatal day. 

Even now, i often feel that she is very much there, may be, in the other room, tops at my brothers' place. This afternoon itself, i was explaining something that I felt Aai, too, must know. No wonder, I wrote to my brothers this morning that she lives on, with/in us.

That makes me think yet again how difficult it must have been for her when Papa passed away. And people were insensitive enough to casually deny to her haldi-kumkum that she was used to for almost forty-five years, a ritual that mattered to her generation.

That reminded me of the many lost during the Covid, without even a proper good-bye, given the pandemic precautions. At least Aai-Papa were lucky enough to be paid the perfect, the proper farewell, often denied to many.

Thus the Mother's Day makes you aware that beyond the market frenzy released by the day, motherliness is this larger feel which understands the woes of others, cares for all those suffering, helps you love plants, pets who cannot even talk to you, makes you take care of mother earth, mother nature. 

Then you realise that though Aai is not with you physically, she is there everywhere, every second, in your every breath. Long live Mother's Day, nay, forever lives Mother's Day.

Pratima@ To the world, you could be a word, 'mother', for us, the word was the world that was forever sunshine, and yet ever created the gentlest shadow for us, however harsh the summer, Aai.

 

Spying

 Spying is such a silly activity, right? Oh, yes, sure, I am NOT talking of the international arena. Even in that field, I believe, a talk between the parties concerned could avoid multiple miscommunications. Yet the contexts there are pretty complex. I would not hence much like to comment on that sphere.

In other fields, in interpersonal relationships, for instance, spying is downright ridiculous. If a person has decided to hide something from you, to begin with, that individual would have her/his reasons for it. Hence, come what may, the person would not reveal it anyways. In the process, the spies and their puppet masters would be shamed.

The best example of this universal truth is Hamlet. The hyper intelligent hurt Hamlet soon realises that everyone around him is a spy. The spy-rings around him include family and friends, mother and beloved, too, though they do not realise that they are being used, I suppose. 

The spying would have led to his death.The intelligent Hamlet guesses through it, and uses it to the disadvantage of his enemies. The best proof of how and why spying is absolutely useless, unless, of course, the spy and the power(s) behind such cheapest  cheapskate(s) love falling flat on face, like getting exposed!

No padmakers (the word has multiple layers of meanings), no raving-mad-tea's (oh, a Marathi name close to it!) can thus help any 'altu-faltu' atlee-baldies, however much they rat, scream, plot, lie, libel. Poor cheapo's, crooks all, wasting their anyways useless time and ill-gotten monies!

Pratima@spying, spying, yes, dung-o/ spreading lies, you whacko/wasting your non existent brain, ha, ha, ha!

Whither(ed) Childhood

 Currently, there is this video on the Google which is apparently hugely popular. That is to say, it has gone viral. It shows a small boy. The legend below the snap shows the kid to be three. One would not know, but the child surely could not be older than six, for sure.

This video shows a kid about to drink sugarcane juice. The father asks him to look in to camera so that the shoot could carry on. Well, the child loses his cool,  and follows a tirade wherein he blasts the father for constantly shooting him. He reminds the father that the day before he was shot while 'doing potty'.

Of course, the child's irritation, his response afterwards appeared rather 'staged'. Even then, the video raises very interesting issues such as the lust for instant and constant publicity, even if cheap, the eternal invasion of the social media in an individual's privacy, the constant camera conscious posing, et al. The list could go on.

As a result, children are precocious. They internalise very early adult values, imposed on them via the mobile, the serials, the video games, for instance. Every child now is an expert at selfie pouting, at being 'smart' at/with the camera. In the process, the essential and innate innocence is absolutely lost, completely tarnished.

The truly worst are the children participating in the multi- channel talent search shows. It is a terror, a horror to see a child mouthing, moving, gyrating to a 'lavani', to a vulgar, double meaning song with extremely provocative gestures. Even if they win, yet again the staged competition, they would be forgotten within a months tops. 

In the process in the meanwhile much is lost, much water flows under the bridge washing away forever the childhood, never ever to return! Wither(ed) indeed the childhood!

Pratima@if such is childhood, how would be the adulthood!!?!!

Minimalis Maximalis

 This evening I was looking up a research video about the planet Pluto. The whole of it is indeed infinite. The distance between the earth and Pluto, the observer spaceship reaching the Plutonic orbit in five years, performing seamlessly at such a wide angle and wild distance, conducting all possible scientific analyses, video- shooting while orbiting the planet, the whole of it is a great tribute to human intelligence powered by a superb, fertile imagination.

Unbelievable was the further analysis of whether there would be water and possibly life on Pluto. Indirectly hence it was a re-vision of how life began here on earth. Well, I have completed online courses on ecology as well as anthropology. The kind of wonder I then felt paled in comparison with the feel this evening 

And then the famous quote by Stephen Hawking that can roughly be summarised as follows: human beings are slightly better and/or advanced monkeys on an ordinary earth that is revolving around an ordinary sun slowly dying out which anyway is a mere Lilliput-ian structure in this vast universe.

Well, vast, infinite, and yet human intellect and imagination, properly used, can precisely predict the very origin and the end thereof. It is a feel that is both humbling and energising simultaneously. 

In my mid-teens, I always used to tell myself that I am a girl in a small city in a state, in a country till one progressively and exponentially reached the solar system so as to keep oneself grounded. Now one knows the grandeur of it all.

Indeed smallest of the smallest and yet grand-est of the greatest, that is defining the human. No wonder, one loves the tribute to human beings in Sophocles' Antigone and Shakespeare's Hamlet. Minimalis Maximalis, in brief!

Pratima@in a speck of dust/dormant lie the mysteries of the stars as dust!

Who is afraid of an (offline) exam?

 Yet another about to rage fiercely storm, with lot of sound and fury, signifying nothing, would be the nature of the possible format of the imminent UG and PG examinations. To write proper analytical answers or to mcq, that is the question!

Apparently, many students want the online mcq exam format because the current semester would be of just two months. When I read/heard this argument, literally there were tears of a huge laughter in my eyes because I remembered the attendance record of students pre-Corona times when there used to be full fledged, full scale semesters.

In most leading colleges, the morning 7.30 lectures would be just one or two in an entire huge building. My 7.30 Eng Special lecture, attended by 75% of the student population, would often not have a companion in an entire big building! Actually, every room had an assigned lecture as per the time table!

Everywhere, in each and every college, that used to be the same, sad story that would continue till the daily lectures ended at about 11.30! There was no Corona scare, regular full term studies used to be conducted. But students would be scarce. In a leading Univ PG class, since 20 out of 30 students would attend my lectures meant they liked me, said the Head, confessing further that not even ten students attended her own lectures.

In other words, whether the semester lasts six months or two months, students hardly attend lectures.  Look at the online lectures, for instance. When the teachers used to teach online, via the Meet or Teams mode, they were literally in the students' study room or study corner in the house, right? Even then the attendance used to be very low.

In brief, most students never study throughout the six months of the semester. Most of them mug up 'guides', now available online, too, technology, 'jai ho', and, unfortunately, even if they mug up the night before the exam, they manage to get wonderful marks. Nobody, almost nobody, fails, as even the establishment, too, wants most all to pass, by either hook or crook.

Well, the bloated 'everybody above 95%' kind of marks are not going to land them jobs as the job market is acutely wary of the quality of the Covid batches. Moreover, dictating the universities to conduct an exam in the student preferred way/mode is a serious encroachment on, grievous infringement of the  University rights as per the University mandate. 

In brief, even now there is time. The UG/PG students should improve their writing practice, and choose the offline exam like the tenth/S.S.C and twelfth/H.S.C. students did. In that lies their own good, their own better futures! Zindagi such much me nahi milegi dobara!

Pratima@ Students of   colleges and universities, unite and attend lectures, you have nothing to lose except ignorance!

Perspective

 It was by chance that I got to see the video. I was scrolling down for the news items. This particular video was ensconced therein. Actually, I rarely watch such videos about Bollywood people. It is sheer phillumbazi most often.

Well, in this particular video, Abhishek Bachchan was being quizzed about his wife. She is the "Miss World", successful as a heroine, had her share of gossip. But the way he handled every question about her, even the nasty ones, showed an extremely mature approach, very sure of himself, too. Indeed a class act which reflects very well on his upbringing, on the familial values.

Exactly opposite in attitude was the wife of a famous politician. He is well known for his efficiency,  sincerity, honesty, genuine wholesomeness, the 'good guy'  types. She was trying to be the 'oh so cool Modern Ms'. In the process, she often would come across as rather silly.

Even when the poor man was trying to save the situation in a subtle way, she would come up with, would let loose yet another 'gem', more embarrassing than the earlier. Whosoever could tell such people that publically dragging your partner over coals is not 'cool'.

Well, in public places, rectitude matters, I believe. Is not it the first rule of 'good communication' that " praise a person in public, blast him/her in private!" Openly showing your differences in public just appears hip. Actually, it is, I think, plain 'hic(k)'!

Pratima@Perspective and rectitude do matter, especially in intimate relationships in public glare!  

Of Mother, of parents, Born

 The title, as you can very easily guess, is a play on the famous quote in Shakespeare's Macbeth. That source apart, what does a birthday mean when both your parents are no longer 'alive', except in your memory and in the photos hanging on the wall?

Yes, they are very much there. There is  indeed a chamber in your brain wherein echoes their voice, both literally and figuratively. I suppose, in a way, this kind of orphaned feeling is more a call to be more responsible, both to your real self and the self they spent almost a lifetime crafting, sculpting you.

In other words, the day means yet again getting to examine your own self, getting to know the 'real', the genuine you, which should help reduce the dross in you. May be, that is why, in the Indian culture, we have the "niranjan" ritual. May be, even the  candles on the birthday cake, too, suggest this lighting up from within that is yet necessary, still awaiting its full flash?

Vinaya and Seema, my cousins, who so lovingly and painstakingly paid perfect attention to the minutest detail to 'make my evening' indeed must have yet again met their 'atya', their aunt, too, in a way? May be, it is this subtle support, that continues to be there however busy life chooses to be, is what they, the parents, leave us with, the special phone calls by brothers, by much loved nephews, the wishes, the messages, the calls by more her nieces, her brother who as well are your cousins,  your maternal uncle, your sense of gratitude to them for standing by you,  this 'we are family' feel as the f(orget me not) minor(as distant from daily lived professional lives) makes one 'of mother, of parents born' a lovely song of existence!

Pratima @ The birthday is yet another go at self reflexivity!

Work as Worship

 Sure  Maharashtra Formation Day matters a lot. In the enthusiasm, however, most all seem to have forgotten that May 1 is May Day, alias International Labour Day, too!

Personally I would have liked it a lot if there were many and meaningful debates about the nature of work right now. Due to the Corona scare, most all are blinded to the fact that subtly but very surely and rapidly, the very nature of work is changing drastically, what with Revolution 5.1, or whichever way we may choose to nominate it.

We are already in the metaverse, we are already cyborgs, we are already being defined by the AI, and what have you. These, and other such strides of technology, we possibly cannot control or contain. They have already started defining our very selves radically.

In such magical yet mysterious contexts, there is an urgent need of a re-look at the very notion of work.  It is absolutely not hard work any longer. It is no longer mere smart work either. It is neither soft skills support. 

Work soon is going to be more and more scarce as machines would do a lot of intellectual work, too. 'Pink slip' is gonna be the best buddy soon. Constant up-skilling would be the new mantra that, too, may not help.

No, I am not a pessimistic crybaby. Yet I do feel there is an urgent need to re-look at these issues, think through these existential dilemmas. How I wish such, such would have been the debates, too, on the International Labour Day.

Pratima@how to worship work now?