Light on Day First...

 Yet again it is the first day of Ashadha. Yet again the memories of Kalidasa's 'Meghdootam' that begins with "Ashadha's pratham diwse". Very poetic is the beginning that talks of the dark, water rich cloud that reminds the Yaksha of his hometown and of his much missed beloved.

Those days the monsoon used to be regular. Never ever would it be unreliable, unlike the awful quirks and obnoxious oddities of the present day politics. So apparently was the relationship between man and woman. Reliable, that is. 

Hence the description of a woman's physicality ("tanvi, shyama, shikhari dashana", that is, dusky, delicate, dainty teeth, etc, etc) did not grate on sensibilities. Much water has thence flown off-n-from the real, quite banal clouds. 

Times have now changed much. Human relationships are now often like asteroids, the shooting stars that burn out, and are reduced to deadweight stones. 

Why be so negative though? Asteroids create the unique Lonar Lake's of the world, right? Real vibrant, indeed s pecial are such spaces. For all one knows, there could be underground sources of minerals there and fungus that might begin a new life, a new evolution yet again.  

So little we know of this infinite universe. Why waste the  forever fleeting time then in negativities? Anyways, it rained a little this evening, too. May start late, but the life sustaining monsoon is finally there, however scantily. Let every day, in brief,  be like the first day of Ashadha Kalidasa immortalised, rich with creativity, bursting with newer ideas, thus beautiful beyond belief, fresh forever!

Pratima@In the beginning is the Light, and                       life has to be light, in all the                                 senses of the term 'light'. Thus is                       all ever bright.

A friend forever!

 FINDING a true friend is indeed a tough job. Don't you believe me? Ask our constant companion of the last two years, the great Mr. Corona! Had the whole world in thrall. Could it get a good friend though? None at all. Enemies in the shapes and sizes of many a vaccine emerged everywhere though! Well, that is the way of life on this earth. No exceptions at all. Not even the mighty corona! Ha! Sardonic remarks apart, true friendship is indeed rare! Enemies of all shades and sizes would proliferate like the weed, but that rose bush called friendship is a prized possession indeed.

Immediate family, I would say, is the best friendship circle. Well, misunderstandings in this sphere wither away, faster than the Marxist state. Your bro and sis can support you through the thick and thin, come rain come sunshine. They know you from the Adam, too. So they advise you better, too, as they belong to your generation, and know the in's and out's of the contemporary realities, may be, more than your parents, I would say.

Beyond that intimate circle, however much you nurture it, friendship is pretty rare. Bon homie, born(e) mostly from convenience, may spring up here and there. It is hardly frindship though. Such friends are fair weather for one thing, they would use you like the tissue paper, to be thrown away when their purpose is served. The larger family, cousins and all, are more jealousy personified types most often. They can never see you in a happy mode/mood, and would try their level best to "wat laga denge", to try and destroy to their heart's content, if they have that contraption at all, that is. Their  "rate" of happiness rises with every misfortune of yours. If such is so called extended family, can colleagues or neighbours be far behind in despising you?   

Who can be the best friend in such a scenario? In addition to pets, I would say the best of books, the best of films, the best of music, the best ideas, for instance. One is thus in the "bestest" company eternally for one thing, and yet another great aspect about these wondrous friendships is that you can meet them anew each time. The nicest asset of this friendship in my opinion, however, is that it introduces you to your greatest friend ever, your own thinking, critiqueing, imagining, deeply feeling self! Thus you are closer to the Maker, of a happy, fulfilling universe. Long live true friendship!

Pratima@Friend inside is friend indeed!

Benediction

 Often in life we are faced with situations that seem threatening from every possible angle. Whichever way we turn, more difficult and challenging appears every bend in the road. 'Roads (not) taken' appears to be our maze like context. 

What can be the thread to get out of such confusion confounded? May be, we should continue performing the duties we assigned ourselves? May be, the following fable could prove my point.

It is the deepest part of the jungle. There is this doe  whose term is full. She needs a quiet place to deliver her fawn. So she decides to enter a thicket. But a hungry lion is already growling there. She decides to go left. Suddenly she looks up. A hunter is about to draw his arrows literally to shower then on her. To the right is the forest fire flaming away. She cannot go back as near the bank is an alligator. What to do?

She concentrates on her primary duty, giving birth to her small one. Suddenly there is a thunderstorm with blinding flashes of lightening. Thus the misguided arrows of the hunter hit the hungry lion that in its fury attacks and drags away the hunter. The storm quenches the forest fire and the flash flood takes away the alligator down the current. The happy doe can now lick in to shape her healthy new born fawn 

Well, I would like to say that the story is quite (like) a fable that seems to suggest that performing one's primary duty, however tough, however painful, can help one sort out all the problems that the road may be paved with. Thus begun is well done, I suppose. That is the real benediction we shower ourselves with, right?Any responses?

Pratima@Be thou true to thyself/ Thus begun, from every direction, follows help!

Animals

 Saw this video. It showed a huge crocodile. The croc had a beautiful deer in its real cruel jaws that literally looked like two knives about to slash the poor deer in to half.

But, hey, something most unexpected happened. The croc had almost gobbled up the deer, but the alligator could feel that the stomach of its prey was undulating. In other words, that harshest amphibian realised that the prey was a doe, and was pregnant, moreover. Immediately, the doe was allowed to run away.

Well, i do not think it was a photoshopped, morphed video. True, there are cybercrimes of all the "verities" and varieties. Yet the video appeared genuine. It proved how the animal world is much better than the so-called sophisticated human world.

Well, the human world has lots of superficial niceties and  sophistication, but it is rarely humane. It is getting more and more self centred and selfish. In such a world, what matters the most is one's own immediate gain at any cost.

Post the LPG revolution, the world was to be glocal, a space where the entire universe would be at your fingertips literally. Well, in the process, people are getting to be inhuman beasts without much empathy, rather like the bots that may soon take over the (hopefully only the) manual run of the world. 

Animals are much better then. They live a basic life. May be, it is banal, but it is sure not beastly. How I wish one could say that of/about many an animals called human beings!

Pratima@Where kindness, love and empathy do not dwell/There liveth Satan, too!

Junk Stuff

Junk stuff is indeed no kid stuff, they say. Not so sure any longer. In my opinion, across age, region, religion, class, city/country,  gender kinda typical traditional binaries, drug addiction is quite common. Literally can be counted on fingers the lucky ones who never needed any such artificial high's.

Drug addiction is here, and to stay. It takes very many forms and routes. Cigarette to cocaine, every a, b, c to z, each alphabet practically has some association of 'drug doing', rendering the poor alphabet ridiculous. 

Why do people do drugs? Mostly, it is some extremely silly, most immature desire to be and to look cool, or is it hot, babe!?! Actually, only genuinely stupid people can think that a druggie, a junkie is either modern and/or smart.

Actually, such stupido's are downright weirdo's. Silly jerks they are who cannot even control their own reactions and responses. Any form of addiction, every drug dependence is proof of a very weak mentality, a crybaby who cannot face up to life and its unavoidable difficulties and problems, a weak fool who loves the victim card, in brief.

Such asses, especially teenagers who can fight with their elders over every minor tiff, would not have that strength of character, that sense of purpose when it comes to saying a firm "no" to drug abuse. 

We, as the society on the whole, have granted drinking, smoking, doing drugs a kind of downright shitty (Sorry for the non-parliamentary term. Well, it alone captures the weird abusers) glamour. There are hookah parlours, for example when the yo-gang needs to appear traditional, and then there are swanky joints when the fools feel hep.

No addiction can be creative, no drug dependence can co-ordinate new ideations. In fact, it can lead to complete and total ruin every which way. That is at the individual level. It destroys the foolish addict as well as an entire family.

Very difficult it would be to get out of such habit formation. Luckily some genuine de-addiction centers that are truly humane, and not mere fleece fellows are available. Basically, it is important to realise that this human life, evolved over eons and ages, is very brief and unpredictable. Why waste it over anti-social, anti-self nonsense? So many causes that require total dedication can give a genuine high. 

Beware bizzare bonds that addictions of all sorts bury you in! Life is such a special gift, a precious prize. Why waste it on some simply stupid stuff?!?

Pratima@International cartels via cannabis routes to cocaine mafiosi make their mollah at the cost of fools who are narcissistic and self obsessed in their desire of destroying the destinies of themselves and those foolish enough to care for them!

A touching tribute to optimism and positivity

 She had a truly fresh perspective on everything that was part of her small, little world. And what a world it was! So very small but it included the entire range of human(e) existence .

Yes, you guessed it right. I am talking of Anne Frank. Reading her simple but lively diary is an enriching experience. It shows the true triumph of the human spirit that sings like a free bird even when caged in the most cruel way.

What is truly endearing about Anne's diary is that it never sighs about the past, nor sobs about the present. Instead it eternally dreams of a happy future. That indefatigable optimism is the real strength of this          wonderful book.

Yet another aspect of Anne's diary that makes you her fan forever is that it never criticises, condemns her motherland for the unforgivable cruelties heaped on a helpless and hapless life. Instead, in the diary, there is such a genuine celebration of every experience that her reader, too, forgets the sufferings. 

Indeed impossible is this forgiving of the horrors,  but Anne manages it most comfortably as she forgets forever the dark night engulfing the very existence, and instead sings paeans to all that marks a new, happy beginning every nano second!

Her writing wipes out a tragedy that questioned humanity itself. Instead the diary is a comedy in the divine sense, full of small but sincere joy and a deep peace born of forgetfulness of wrongs!

"Inspite of everything," writes Anne Frank, "I believe that everyone is good at heart". No wonder, we feel like celebrating such indefatigable optimism and peace born of forgetting the crooked oddities born out of vicious cruelties.

Pratima@Anne's diary defi(n)es all that is harsh and cruel in the gentlest way full of positivity, joy and love.

Faith is truth, Faith is beauty, and that is all needs to know a true devotee!

 The blog today refers to one of the most positive events to date,  the annual Palkhi procession, the sign post of the Bhakti tradition in Maharashtra. Set out in real glory after the Corona disruption, this afternoon, the procession passes through the Dive Ghat, a quite difficult pass in the local mountain range.

Two aspects of this stage of the palakhi procession are remarkable. First and foremost, the warkari's, ordinary people, not trained trekkers or some such specialists, manage this real difficult trek only because of their faith. A great example this trek is of what genuine belief, true faith can do.

The second aspect is the lovely look of the procession in the ghat area. The sight of the multitudinous devotees in simple Maharashtrian dress, with the ochre pennants atop their shoulders managing the dangerous curves of the mountainous pass is indeed a divine vision.

 Aai used to love it. She would unmistakably watch it on the multi-channel t.v. Indeed the lovely sight, full of colour, divine  incantations, the rhythmic movements of the tired yet determined feet give a unique succour to the soul even when you are not a committed devotee.  A sight to behold, to feel indeed!

Pratima@ Faith is truth,Faith is beauty and that is all  needs to know a true devotee! May the tribe of such events increase in numbers, grow day by day!

 

Corona scarce or Corona scare?

Each time, the moment I step out of home, i wear a mask, and remove it only after i step back inside our home. Well, many people think that there is no need to be so cautious, no need to wear a mask now as the corona days are over. 

I am not so sure though. True, many people, at least in the urban area, are vaccinated. When, however, there is a mass movement such as the palakhi procession, there would be a curious mix of the urban and the rural, the metro and the interior Maharashtra.

In such a context, there is no concrete  way to know if the person sitting/standing right next to you is not a victim of the dreaded disease. The common cold shares its symptoms with Corona. Why, in the PMT bus today, there was an elderly woman who was coughing constantly, and yet wanted the electric bus air conditioning zone on to her. May be, she was feeling claustrophobic in a new wave bus she saw for the first time. 

In such ambiguous contexts, better to err the on the side of caution. Wash hands repeatedly and wear a protective face-gear are the only options within our control. Well, fealty to rationality never loses!

Pratima@Prevention is indeed better than the cure!

Who is afraid of examinations?

Yet again it is the examination season. After roughly two long years actually. Coz in between were the Covid years. Those devastating two years drastically changed students' studying habits, if any at all prior to Covid.

I am basically talking of under graduate and post graduate students. Post Covid, these senior students seem to suffer the examination phobia. I find that phenomenon a little strange. Let me explain why. Let us, for example, talk of a T.Y. student, for example. 

Such a student appeared for the typical exam, with all its faults and foibles, till March 2020, that is to say, till the end of. F.Y. How come a twelve years long (Standard 1 to Standard 13/F.Y) habit of preparing for and appearing for an exam suddenly gets wiped out by a hiatus of roughly fifteen months? 

Nobody is saying that the traditional exam system is foolproof. It obviously is not. It has undeniably one too many lacunae and well-known faults. Yet, after all said and done, there is habit formation. Whatever happened, one wants to know, of the rather ingrained habit of writing answers? 

How can a year and half of MCQ'S destroy it so fast? Or is it that the very easy MCQ'S set a trend of doing nothing to get wow marks? Well, we must remember, a swollen body is NOT a healthy body!

Pratima@ 'Write a short note on...' is more a test of knowledge, analysis, application, writing skills, and so on. It is a better preparation for the future than an MCQ question made much too easy for answering.

A unique day

 June 21 is indeed a unique day for me. Let me begin with the personal. June 21 marks Papa's death anniversary. Both as a father and as a human being, he was indeed special.  As a human being, he was honest, sincere, genuine, committed, qualities which very few people possess. He was excellent at his work, and there were not any compromises either with the quality or the quantity in that area. He had a tough life. He had to look after his parental family which he did assiduously.  As a father, he loved deeply. He was not exactly very demonstrative, but his total faith in you was your best defence in this fakeless world.

A genuine family man, Papa loved suryanamaskar's, and he adored music. He liked Marathi natya Sangeet a lot. That brings us to the other two aspects of the day. June 21 is the yoga day. We must remember that yoga does not merely mean a mode of exercises, the asana's. Yoga is a way of life. "Yunjati iti yoga:", it is said. That is to say, the yoga is way of uniting our head, heart, soul in to a unique balance.  Pranayama, the asana's are the early, the primitive tools towards this goal.

Once thus united, the very life becomes harmonious. Music, too, is such a harmony of tal, sur, shruti's, melody, and most importantly, meaning. Whether vocal or instrumental, it is a mode of attaining pure bliss, almost a devotional high. 

Life is complete and fulfilled when it is unified and harmonious as was Papa's. Long live June 21 in fond memories of Papa, and Yoga and Music that he adored.

Pratima@Music and yoga are the                 foundations of a balanced life, 'ful-n-filled' in a good, decent life such as Papa's.

Refugees

 In this very unjust and unequal world of ours, there are many victims. The lowest of the low, however, would be the refugees. They suffer from multiple jeopardies. They are victimised due to class, race, gender (in case of refugee women), age, and the place of origin, and surely not in that order.

Being a refugee is the worst trauma, i think. It means your own motherland does not want you or finds you inconvenient, and so for the sake of self defence, you have to find a new land where you are eternally in the guest mode. 

Well, those who leave the motherland in search of greener pastures are not exactly refugees. They are mere converts to the self obsessed sect of 'money and more money', though it may be accepted that the motherland does not grant them such easy ways @' money matters' undoubtedly.

The refugees do not have such choices. The reigning ideology finds them inconvenient. Hence they have to get themselves a new home which most often could be temporary, too. The involved harassment on multiple levels is unimaginable.

The worst of the refugees, i would think, is those suffering internal displacement. Nothing can hurt the soul as much as the feel that you are a stranger, most unwanted, in your own country. We have recently heard the plight of the Kashmiri pandits in the 'media'-ated way, and the pain was indeed truly palpable 

The most touching visual of such refugee victimhood continues to be the photo of the drowned child, the Kurdish baby Ailan. The drowned body of the child at the first sight looked like a forgotten big sized doll!

Well, life does often hit you with a brick. But if you have an ounce of resilience, you can build back your dreams, and better and stronger they thus emerge.

As a refugee, however, you never belong anywhere, and then the dreams may get stolen for no fault of yours while you fight for the daily survival, a bitter battle wherein you fight in the dark where you never know exactly who the enemy is. A much needed bowing down hence to the dimming yet drumming spirit of the refugee!

Pratima@ Refugees require relatedness!                              Basics today, details fleshed out                           later in yet another blog!

Tribute to Papa

 He walked in duty, be it the blazing sun

 Of the blistering summer or the lashing rain

 And all that is the best of love and goodness

 Met in his stature and his mind.

 Thus mellowed in fatherhood

 His disciplined ways he bid.

 No mission nary,  no duty the less 

 Never he evaded his steadfast ways

 His truthful soul, his honest heart

 Always for his children beat.

 Gentle he was of soul, tender of heart

 Never was harsh, and had no crafty art.

 His thoughts were serene, his ideals high

Missing him much, well, we can only sigh.

And in his vision for us he forever dreamt

Of the best and the brightest and the honest 

His simple ways, his straightforward days

A tale of a life in goodness spent 

A mind at peace with godly grace

 His path we try our best to trace!

Pratima@Every tribute, Papa, you deserve                        words hardly my purpose serve! 

 

Hope

 Hope shines eternal.

            Even when the wick is gone sooty

   Even when the lamp without much oil 

          Is faint like the weak smile of a patient.

  Even when the smog is grey,

           Hope shimmers eternal.

    The weak wick, the fluttering flame 

                  Define the  drowning darkness.

             Hope glimmers eternal.

        Hope is the first flint 

        The little light 

         That made the cavernous cave

         A happy home

          Eons ago!

          Pratima@ Hope is heavenly.

Difficulties

 Difficulties are not only always 

  Till over get the school days! 

  Indeed, the equations life throws

  At us seem like dark clouds

  Blocking even a streak of sunrays.

One more before the earlier we resolve,

Difficulties love playing the cat-mouse chase.

None to help, nowhere the solace

Dreary is the soul, heart a lonely space!

Lost in sandy dunes, thirsty the self.

Face them straight-n-square

That is the name of the game!

Pratima@Long the road/difficult to                                     tread/hold on, steadfast, hold!

Bias

 We cannot always choose the music life plays for us. Certainly, however, we can choose how we dance to that beat. A rather common quote with a rather obvious metaphor, right? Why have I begun this blog today with it then, you may wonder.

Well, often people use such borrowed music to drown some genuine tune and the ecstatic performance of an innocent person who is demonised, victimised  for the simple reason that such vain people think that the hugely talented person, not born with a golden spoon in his/ her mouth, is somehow inferior.

Ultimate ridiculous shallowness it is to subtly/not-so-subtly,  directly/indirectly to belittle any person just because (s)he was not born in a family with the right connections and with slightly deeper  pockets. Honestly, how many Tata-Birla's are there on this earth? 

A bias, hence,  that consists of showing off one's birth-born(e), inherited, and not acquired, assets sounds silly and reveals a quite stupid snob, a personality with sheer small shadows.To be pitied than praised!

Pratima@ Class born trumpery beggars human beings the most.

Blood is the thickest

 Recently there was the blood donation day.  Yes, indeed, blood is the thickest, we realise on such a day because the typical  ceremonies and homilies on such days apart, the common man realises that the typical differences do not matter at all. The same blood courses, despite the not much understood blood groups, along all the veins and each artery of mankind. Age , caste, creed, region, religion, gender remain irrelevant in such a scientifically central concept.

Yes, i have donated blood once. The episode was not at all melodramatic, unlike films. The whole scientific procedure from the tourniquet to the mandatory biscuit post donation is quite exciting though.

Hope human beings realise at least on such a day how meaningless and downright dangerous blood shedding is. Hope this day onwards, when it comes to using the ancient mode of javelin throw with a stone, people would remember that behind all the imagined pretences, reddish blood is the same every which way, a rare, essential phenomenon, much better under the skin than on some stone or a pavement. Long live the blood donation day!

Pratima@ Every donation is indeed great,                         but blood donation is the best.

Tight trite!

 How to behave in this big, bad world? You are a gentle soul. You love being genuine. You hate being consciously cruel to anyone. Amicable, amiable but sensible is your pattern of thinking and being.

That does not mean you are stupid though. If people are genuinely concerned for your well being, you understand that good vibe. You are heartily thankful as well. At the same time, if that concern for you is actually a cover up for someone else whom the showmanship is trying to protect in a subtle mafioso fashion, you just chuckle and leave it at that.

You do understand that a fool or two --- who is bothering you for no rhyme no reason (you have hardly exchanged three sentences with such crooks in some thirty years) but just because his inflated ego is trite --- continues to be centrally important to others for certain solid reasons, and you never had any quarrel with that locus standi, the(ir) status quo. 

At the same time, why allow all to ride rough shod over truth because it suits their personal interests from day one? So you are absolutely aloof from the whole of it. No connect whatsoever! May be, their conscience troubles, hurts them!

 Any person with something approaching a mind knows deep within that (s)he has been party to a genuine injustice and has chosen to harass someone absolutely innocent, may be? People may laugh and laugh, and yet be guilty.

Otherwise, they would have questioned the perpetrator(s) whom they perfectly very well know. They would not silently look on because they have to be grateful to the (s)he creep(s). They would, if not confront, counsel the big bully spreading shitty nonsense through very subtle, skillful modes. 

Well, evil happens,and continues, not merely because there were the baddies, the perpetrators, but equally because there were silent spectators who knew the truth, and yet secretly cheered on the violence as it suited them. They are their own worst judges! 

 Pratima@Let us be the gentlest/ Let us be the toughest/ Let us bow down to the Truth/That is the greatest!

Frenemies, ahoy!

 Who has genuine concern and care for you? People who praise you to skies in front of you, but mock you, criticise you, troll you badly behind your back? People who pretend to be concerned about you, but are mightily happy secretly in your presence and openly cannot control their glee behind your back when Fate gives you a huge tight slap in the face for no fault of yours?

Well, everybody knows the story of the two friends in the forest and the huge bear chasing them. Remember the bear's message according to the friend left to defend for himself despite mighty assurances to the contrary?  People pretend and pretend because it suits them every which way, i suppose! 

I am of the opinion actually that actions speak louder than words.  A person who is all words withers away when you are in genuine difficulty. On the contrary, a person who goes out of his/her way to help out, even voluntarily most often, really means (s)he will be by/with you, right?

In my opinion, the most dangerous person is the one who is friends with everyone. Such a person is using all as puppets to his/her advantage. An honest person would disagree, stand up for a genuine issue, would not hold grudges for sure, but would call a spade a spade. Such a person may not be cute and popular, but surely would be truly genuine and reliable. 

The best solution to such lived complexities is that you pray for, and forever  are the best support in every context for, the people you care for because you know very well that in this wicked world, people may laugh and laugh, and yet behind the back be the worst villains and vamps  possible as the Bard best put it. 

Pratima@Never under-estimate the power                       of the common vamp or villain!

Child labour

 Child labour is a sad reality. Be it the Shivkashi cracker industry or be it Dharavi, children working under horrific conditions is the sad truth. 

You,too, must have been moved by the sight  of children squirrelling their way  in the maze of the mad traffic at every major cross road to earn just a rupee or two. Most often, they are garishly painted with hazardous colours to represent the reigning deity of the day.  Imagine what the blazing hot summer must be doing to their tender skin under that garish coat.

Child labour is nothing new. Blake has superb poems on chimney sweepers in both his books, of innocence, of experience. In our early teens, all of us have wept over Oliver Twist's tragic fate. In brief,  Fagins may come  and Fagins may go, child labour refuses to wither away, rather like the state!

In fact, it is believed that the poor think that the more hands in a family, better means they are of  more money, and hence give birth to many more mouths who lead a miserable life on footpaths, as labour bonded for a lifetime for a few rupees literally, and in constant denial of each and every human right of theirs.  

Despite the ILO declaring June 12 as the international anti child labour day, and many a Magsaysay awards later, the issue remains where it was as it is a cheap labour market, available in indecent abundance. 

Of all the child lives lost to cruel  conditions, nothing can be as wicked as child trafficking which would destroy a young life in to a hard core criminality against mankind itself! 

How and when the end of this cruel practice of child labour is anybody's ever unanswered guess. Hope very soon arrives that day when all the children of the whole world would learn, behind the butterflies run and have unlimited fun!

Pratima@Wicked is child labour/how from                        innocent lives we it tear?

Dreams

 Dreams dare more than the reality.

 Thence cross we the mundane borders.

  Spaces and times no Freud can announce 

  Become ours to traverse.

  Subterranean selves suckling sadnesses 

  Deeper than the deathly dead-n-end.

  Just a tired eyelid away 

 Lies a land to meet again 

 The forever lost dear ones.

  Blessedly thus bloom happy, usual days 

  Normal but never to live again!

 Pratima@ Truer than reality/in dreams                               blossoms infinity!

Grit is a great gift!

 Going strong 

  Resting not a nary 

  Inspite of terrible wrongs 

  Tagging the  destiny.

  In a worrisome world

  Sharp, tis,  hard within, outside cold.

   Always a trial by fire, never doused!

   Gold, silver, rubies rich 

   Impress the world weary 

   For hearts tempered n tested

   Trifles are such twadry troves!

 Pratima@The real treasure is grit!                                        Self same the greatest gift!

  

     

The Ocean

 Recently the World Ocean Day was celebrated. Indeed the oceans do deserve a special day dedicated to them, a unique celebration they do merit. The very life emerged from the ocean as ecological history explains it to us. In that sense, if the earth is our mother, the ocean is our father.

The ocean is a very important factor in the history of the mankind. In the times of the early Renaissance, the oceans invited the brave and the ambitious such as Columbus and Vasco the Gama for unique adventures. New continents, new mode(l)s of knowledge were born thus, enriching human  lives.

 Sure, the ensuing colonialism was wicked and crooked, but there was a time when the fates, the dominance of  small little nations in Europe depended on their seafaring abilities and prowess. The Spanish Armada and its defeat by the British are myths that would never ever die.

The ocean is indeed infinite, and in fact contains within it far and deep very many secrets. In fact, we know more about the space than we know about the seven seas, the vast oceans enveloping us. 

The oceans have a unique mystique of their own, too. The way the deep waters constantly change and shift shades of colour on the surface is unimaginable.  The lovely foam decorating each wave (e)merging in to the next as they rush towards the shore is a sight one can keep on looking for days on end. 

The seas, the oceans have their own unique language, so to say. There is a depth to the voice of the oceans, there is a rhythm to the swish of the waves as they merge in to the sands on the shore. The winds, too, sound unique when accompanied by the orchestra of the ocean.

Despite such obvious domination across the very directions, the oceans, the seven seas never cross their limit, unlike rivers in spate. Sure, tsunamis can wipe out continents, but that is a rather rare phenomenon. 

In fact, the seas, the oceans are quite forgiving in their vastness. During the ebb, they drag all the human waste in, and during the flow, especially on a full moon day, when the sea waters rush to hug the shores, they come with beautiful gifts such as unique conches, for example.

With a brother who was a shippie and now continues teaching seafaring, i am absolutely aware of the fact that just  half a kilometre away from the shore, the oceans are not so romantic. In fact, they are downright dangerous, deadly like the sharks. 

I have seen videos of storms madly raging, waves almost hitting the skies, and then one feels so proud of the bravery, the courage and the ingenuity of the mankind that crosses such thunders through wonders called boats and ships.

Of course, we, the human beings have managed to tarnish these transculent depths in multiple ways. No wonder, these two major of the 'panch mahabhutas' Aai talked of as the most dreadful, the 'vayu' and the 'jal', as the base of the oceans, are getting irritated with the human interference, with the result that the rising sea water levels are already threatening the metros ashore.

The base of multitudinous myths in every culture, in each literature, the oceans should be allowed to live, like the infinite human creativity and imagination. They should not be destroyed like fish out of water through the immense selfish wickedness of heartless mankind.

Pratima@"The sea cures all the ailments of                         man," says Plato.

Whose guilt, whose punishment?

 In our life, we often tend to meet rather funny and quite crazy creeps who have subtly  committed awful crimes  in general, and specifically against us. The very fact that they can commit such subtle psychosocial atrocities is proof enough that these meanies absolutely lack anything approaching conscience.

Such cheapos, however, are shrewd enough to know that in the real world the cat-milk analogy indeed works.  The cat-milk narrative is quite simple. The cat closes its eyes and polishes off the milk. It believes that since its eyes are closed, nobody else saw it drinking the milk.

When these horrors are harassing innocent people unnecessarily, well, actually, to cover up their ugly, indecent lives, they behave like the cat. Well, they might not have honour nor honesty, but they are shrewd and wily enough to know that the rest of the world has cottoned on to their nasty games.

Now what to do to whitewash their ugly, dirty image? Well, their trick is easy. Simple! Victim shaming! They go to all sorts of lengths to prove that their innocent but unfortunate prey is bad, mad, of a questionable, loose character, blah, blah, blah, ad infinitum.

 They use their ill-gotten money and pay toadies  to plant and spread such rumours. There are enough touts of all possible  communities and genders who have neither character nor work, but lots of time to swallow such baits. Anyway, the freaky tools are getting the royal treatment for harassing an innocent, right? So their otherwise impossible bread is buttered both ways.

Alas, though! Such bought puppets and their masters forever fall flat on their faces coz despite huge victim shaming and smear campaigns, there is no impact whatsoever on the victim, her reputation, her social standing. Instead, the creepy company is further and forever exposed.

How to stop such continuing chain of stupidities? Ignoring them completely does not seem to have any effect on the thick-skins. Second guessing the motives and moves of everybody is a smart mode, but why waste one's emotional energy and brain power on the ridiculous means of downright rascals? 

Sure, there would be, and is, justice in this universe. As it may take time, how to  bottle up these absurd evils immediately? Some sane solution has to be thought through. Why suffer for, and due to, the insane guilty and their downright boring badass-dom?  

Pratima@ Baddies' horror activities can never be washed off. Sure there would be consequences the creeps would suffer.

Love

 Today the blog has to be Raju special as his birthday falls on June 7.  In our childhood, his birthday celebration would always begin with a spoonful of the mix of asafoedita and home made ghee. Those days the monsoon used to begin on time, with the onset of the Mriga constellation, and Raju's birthday, June 7, falls on the day of that onset.

Raju was Aai 's top favourite. Not that she loved Sanju less. In fact, she adored him. But she did have a special soft corner for Raju. In my opinion, Papa, too, loved him dearly though, of course, Papa's special soft corner was saved for Sanju.

A day would not pass by when she would not narrate stories of his childhood. Some of these anecdotes were her special favourites. She loved the fact that both of them used to help her even in household chores. Of course, Sanju was more in these stories because Raju used to sail then, in fact, early 80's onwards. She was very sensitive and touchy about his seafaring as those days there were no mobiles and no skype. But basically she was very proud about his achievements at a very young age.

That is a mother's love for you. It is "labha vina Priti" as Saint Tukaram defines it. The Marathi phrase means that it is a love that requires nothing in return. It is  a deep attachment from the soul, an affection without any demands for any return gifts. That is parental love which ever engulfs the child, even when he has grown up, in a warm embrace of emotions never openly voiced. Long live parental love!

Pratima@ When a child looks in to his mother's eyes, he gets to see the purest love ever possible, says Aboum Mitchell.

Exposed!

 This evening I was watering the plants. As the present summer is rather bad, they do need that much care. In fact, I am not even cutting the branches of the trees, given the excessive heat. The lovely fragrance of water when it met the soil heated by the summer sun made the dusky evening not exactly balmy, but quite pleasant. All was quiet and peaceful.

Suddenly, in the lane, there was this creepy man using the ugliest language in the cheapest possible way while he was bellowing on his mobile. The horrible abuses he was hurling at everyone's ears, given his shouting at the top of his kinky voice, reflected on his upbringing for sure, but unnecessarily he was polluting the calm, quiet evening.

The language one uses is undoubtedly a reflection on the person, his economic/financial background, his lack of intelligence, his low level of education, et al, for sure. But I do at times feel  that it is basically a comment on the undeveloped, immature type of  personality. It has nothing to do with age though, nor on being city bred.

 May be, some people are born and brought up indecent. They just cannot help being themselves, may be!  In brief, such people are hell bent on revealing themselves, their true colours, their real selves publically, though that personality trait of theirs is an unnecessary bother for others! Well, as such people cannot be cured even by Life, they get themselves more and more EXPOSED!

Pratima@ Real situations always expose                             fake people!

The authentic, the genuine environment day

 Yes, it is the world environment day. It was there last year, it has been there the year before last, during the Covid, before the Covid, after the Covid, for years, nay, for decades. And yet not much has changed. The positive change, if at all it is there, is like the mythical statues that move an inch forward, while shifting two inches backward.

Why, why is it that every year the same ritual continues 'from the last page onwards'? What is it that is lacking? In my opinion, it is the real spirit that is missing, and the world over. It is my submission that the real, the authentic environment day never happens.

Instead what we have, the world over, is the mere spectacle, the comforting band-aid, never the cleansing 'treatment'. Do we ever develop, ever build the authentic, the genuine mindset that would address the real issues that make a world environment day necessary at all?

Instead we have a mere chore, the duty dusted off and done with, the annual ritual. Do we really want answers to burning questions, especially if they are extremely uncomfortable? Instead better to believe it hardly happened, and release, oh, yes, a narrative that, the (oh, indeed, yes,) "eco" system (how so very convenient, right?) would repair itself!

Lost already to 'meta-verses', have our (non-existent actually?) consciences dulled themselves to huge injustices not merely against the environment, but against the very notion of genuine existence? 

When, and how, would change the environment, the ambience full of falsehoods, of injustices heaped on innocents, of wicked selfish (hi)stories that ruin possibilities of (a better) future? Till that distant dream is realised, long live the conspiratorial consumption crazy market-mad(e) rituals!

Pratima@Paradigms must shift positively,                         only then can praxis change                                genuinely.

 

Unjust!

 Often on the limited social media that I use(wapp messages related to teaching, status adding, blogging, googling, emailing, watching truly relevant YouTube material and, may be, once or twice a week, the FB or the Telegram for teaching related messages), there are indeed bits of information, both rather sensitive as well as thoughtful and ethical.

Such a use of the social media brings forth many aspects of the harsh and ugly reality around us as in the "Crime Patrol". There was this incident which showed how the "chinky eyes", as they are mercilessly teased, Nepalese girls are absolutely abused by all sorts of devils in the human garb.

Honestly, when one sees such terrible exploitation of women, one really feels angry with actresses who strut around wearing skimpy and revealing clothes, thereby inciting the worst fantasies that such poor souls have to suffer.

One such absolutely awful atrocity was the "Shot" perfume ad. Disgusting every which way indeed! And yet the male gaze was not easily averted in and about the ad till the women activists raised a huge hell of a reaction about it, the real stink indeed! 

In the wake of the early 90's LPG model, the rising middle class grew more and more aspirational which was further fostered by the easy access to the western shores for ordinary Indians in the wake of the Y2K, for instance. As a result, any success any which way, without bothering about the cost or the values, became the norm.

Entire generations, the millennial, the post-millennial, and so on and so forth,  thus became self obsessed in a cheap way. The slide is on, and there is no way it would end soon, as the suffering of the poor(in all senses of the term) proves bitterly!

Pratima@A rainbow never beautifies some                       lives!

Affection

  Affection is a brook

  Flowing in lonely lost sands sun-dried

  Fast disappearing in the desert of disregard

  Effervescent yet

  Cannot wither its own will

   Tired yet continual

    Iridescent in divine hope

    Only assured of the infinity within

     Nascent of a bright future forever!

      Pratima@The true power of affection is                             its gentleness, that is its real                                strength.

The Bicycle day

 Apparently tomorrow, June 3, is the bicycle day. Interesting! I often wonder though who possibly could think of such days. Must be the brainwave of the UNO! Gets executed wonderfully by all the constituent nations, though.

Fun should be the idea. College students and arty types would tomorrow be riding the bicycle to college, classes and ateliers. Pune would once again be the city of cycles, at least for a day!

The pollution quotient may come down, too, for a day at least. So nobody would look at each other most suspiciously even if one merely clears one's throat behind the mask.

Actually abroad, for example, in Germany, per week, a day is reserved as the vehicles free day. Hope, tomorrow, Pune, like the sixties' films such as "Anari", would once again play musical chairs on the road (better than the usual road rage) that would  echo with the "tring, tring" of cycle bells, a much missed sound since landline phones and cycles went out of fashion!

Pratima@Nostalgia can visit us in multiple avatars, be it sight or sound or semantics! So some other day a write up on that greatest film ever  "The Bicycle Thief"!

Fame

 Fame! What a game it is! It lasts just a little, you make some name that anyways very few would relate to. In return, this dirty game gives nothing; but, in fact, takes away a lot. The whole life gets spent chasing that illusive chimera. Is it really worth it?

Fame! An empty name, like a seashore shell that nary speaks, is all that fame gives us, allots us a corner in this vast universe without any defined ethical rules. Anyways, does anyone care for us really? If at all in your life, you get such kind and gentle people who worry over your well-being, they are hundred times worth any tinsel fame, right?

Fame! The glitzy show that alienates a man from his self in the final analysis, right? Fame! Is not it the anthem of the desperate desire to be in the pop memory which is anyways fragile, futile and frittered. 

Indeed, is fame worth it? RIP, Sushant Singh, KK, and many others of the tribe who did not make it even to notoriety! Why the name and fame? Why chase the interim acts of shame! 

Indeed, in the final analysis, fame is like the flame that burns both ends, flares up momentarily, and in the long run, there is neither the light of wisdom nor fulfilled ambition! Fame: Fast, Ample never,  Mode Made of/for Eternity, but actually real temporary!

Pratima@"Fame is a vapour, popularity is an accident, the only earthly certainty is oblivion," says Mark Twain.