Let us move!

 The year was 1894. The place was Sorbonne, Paris. The day was July 23. A landmark occasion indeed it was as Pierre de Coubertin attempted to revive the ancient Olympic games there at Paris on that day. The objective was to make the world a better place through sport.

Despite the two world wars and the rampant racism, the spirit of sports revived, and remained a constant. In fact, it became competitive, combative as the George Orwell essay on sports has proved amply. Yet the Olympic Movement was too strong to die. 1942 onwards, the Olympic Day is hence celebrated every July cerca 23 or 26. The goal is to celebrate sports.

The title of our blog defines the theme of the day this year. Yes, indeed we need to move. Given the advent of machines and technology, our comfort zone has widened hugely. Most people are couch potatoes. The unique invite, hence, to move is indeed necessary.

We need to move, to groove, to prove that we are nubile, both physically, and ideationally, thus proving that we are alive intellectually! If we do not move, our very life and especially our thought processes start stagnating, thus destroying the sprouting of any new, creative venture!

Long live the theme this year because when people move about, and thus get to know the big wide world out there in all its complexity, people stop being frogs in a shallow well, fish in a small pond. We then find out the deep  similarities despite the apparent differences. Thus do we realise the motto of the whole earth as one's family, 'vasudhaiv kutumbkam'. 

Such a wide vision can sort out the tragic tales of the migrants, of their children sacrificed to foolhardy adventures. Thus would the whole mankind have a tolerant spirit and an efficient existence effectively explored!

Pratima@Long live 'movements' of all sorts!

Tiger, the terrible

 How books 'de-sign' our perceptions, right? The childhood read, Aesop's Fables, tells us that the fox is wily, while his bigger brother, the tiger, is not at all like the large-hearted King of the jungle, the lion. The tiger we meet in 'The Jungle Book ', Shere Khan, is equally vicious, nasty, cruel, always bothering the man cub, Mowgli.

Richard Parker, the Bengal tiger we meet in Yann Martel's 'Life of Pi', is a big brother of Shere Khan. In the early part of the novel, there is this incident wherein the father releases a goat in his cage just to let Pi Patel and his brother understand the cruelty of the animal, and he does rise to the occasion! The vicious cruelty he shows on that occasion accompanies the boy-hero throughout the impossible voyage. 

When they finally reach the shore, despite Pi's multiple acts of kindness throughout the voyage, Richard Parker in a very self-centred way just vanishes in to the forest, without even a glance backward! William Blake's tiger is a much better presence for sure. His unique beauty becomes a symbol of divine creativity.

As for the real tiger (beyond story books and novels  such as R.K.Narayan's, and many, many more),  the zoo cannot contain his ferocity. I have never been to any tiger reserves, though I have watched videos, seen pictures thereof.

Yet his is a presence which is very much necessary for the entire natural 'chain of being'. However, mercilessly hunted for the body parts, this dangerously attractive species has now been reduced to just four thousand, though just a century ago, there were hundred thousand tigers. 

Yet given the glamour related to tiger conservation, the tiger's current situation is much better than many other endangered species'. How to help the power and the glory of the tiger survive, now that mankind is encroaching the forests in a big way, is the real question. It needs urgent answers. Otherwise, tiger days would come and go, but real tigers would be fewer and fewer, soon only to be found in a story book!

Pratima @ I like the story about the ass, the tiger and the lion. The ass fights with the tiger over the issue that the grass is blue. The tiger takes him to the king of the forest to settle the issue.  While the lion agrees with the donkey, he fines the tiger. Hurt, the tiger wants to know the reason behind this apparent injustice. Says the lion, "the fine is imposed for arguing with a fool over a non-issue, and much worse still, bothering me about it, and wasting my time!" What a unique moral indeed! Quite some lesson truly, absolutely worthy of emulation in real life! 

The Moth Tale

 The moment anyone mentions a moth, the immediate bell that rings in most minds is the film entitled "The Silence of the Lambs". Well, like most bibliophiles, I have not watched that much talked about film, though I have read the 1988 novel. So effective was the story that even today emerge reports regarding the larvae of the  'death's head' moth being found in all sorts of often impossible places.

Actually, literature, especially the Urdu shero-shayari type, is afire with the moth symbol in yet another way. Unlike the flighty butterfly, the moth is a symbol of constancy so much so that it is ready to get burnt, to die a cruel death in its pursuit of the 'shama', the flame. Thus, most often, a moth is the symbol of a frustrated, often one-sided love. 

I look at the moth differently. In my opinion,  a moth stands for the search for light even when it could be fatal. This light thus can be any all-consuming aim, be it knowledge,  be it power, be it the willingness to transcend all that limits. Hence often I find the moth symbol in the Faust myth brilliantly explored first by Christopher Marlowe , and next by Goethe. Well, one can say, different fields have their own versions of the eternal Faust figure, right?

A moth, in my opinion, is a symbol of total transformation as well. The moth in its larvae stage is not exactly a pleasant sight. Yet the moth that finally emerges at the end of the entire transformational process is absolutely unique. I have always found the moth myth a variation on the 'ugly duckling' story.

I find this story fascinating because, unlike the pretty, small little butterfly, the moth is absolutely capable of adapting to the surroundings. The kind of camouflage a moth manifests shows us the greatness of the wonder called 'Nature'. In other words, its attractiveness is not simply pretty; it is valid!

Oh, you are asking me 'why tell the moth tale?' For one thing, that is because, a moth has a unique tail. On a less flippant note, recently was celebrated a moth day. Thence  have I been exploring the theme. Today the story gets told with the moral that moths are magical, moths are mystical, moths are marvellous in their own unique way!

Pratima@ May moths manifest their very own, unique magic!

Live(-r), eh!

 July 28 is indeed a significant date because it deals with one of our most vital organs. It is not very big. It is not explicitly visible either. It controls the very dynamics of our body though. Yes, it is the liver. We live, er, if our liver lives soundly. It was on July 28 that Dr. Blumberg's path-breaking research related to liver received the due world wide recognition. Hence this small little blog.

Let the liver live, or otherwise, we shall not live because liver damage leads finally to hepatitis, a kind of cirrhosis, which most often is fatal. Hence the need to take care of the liver. Better to avoid drinking liqueur, smoking, eating unhealthy oily food. Better to drink a lot of water.

Earlier, of course, the liver disease, like most all diseases, was hardly this deadly and dangerous. In fact, jaundice was almost a great occasion to drink lots of sugarcane juice just as tonsillitis allowed one to eat dollops of ice-cream. Well, in my childhood, I was not so lucky as to be down with either of these wonderful diseases!

Now, however, any amount of care is not enough. The entire climate has changed for the worse, both literally and metaphorically. Now jaundice means vaccines, not the lovely sugarcane juice with a dash of lemon and ginger. Now the more you take precautions and avoid any dis-ease, especially of the unseen organs like the liver, the longer you live, and healthily. Health is now indeed wealth. As Erasmus said, prevention, moreover, is better than cure!

Pratima@Health, like time, is wasted without realising it. Once lost, however, neither can be re-gained! 

The Pity of War

 It was the Kargil Day on July 26. The day  reminded me of the First World War tragedies as it was  this 1914-18 war that truly highlighted all the gruesome viciousness of war, the way soldiers suffer, the 'pity of war' as Wilfred Owen, one of the most intense poets of the genre, wrote most evocatively.

The World War I was indeed a cataclysmic event. It changed the very paradigm of war-making. All the earlier wars were 'one on one' wars. One soldier fought with the other on an individual basis, be it a horseman or be it a foot soldier. However cruel it may sound, it has to be admitted that such a war had some chance of exhibiting soldierly skills.

The first World War changed it all. The mechanised weapons, whether it be the machine guns or the Zeplin's dropping crude bombs, were clearly weapons of mass destruction. Each European country, as well as its colonies then, lost literally an entire generation in this war. With young men dying on the border, women had to first time ever run the daily goings-on of ordinary lived realities.

Truly devastating, however, was the trench warfare. The soldiers, most of them young men in their very early twenties, suffered physically and psychologically due to the trench war.The constant rains and the snow, the terrible smell of rot as the corpses of the dying soldiers, the once-upon-a-time battalion buddies, would be decomposing just a foot away, these were numbing experiences. The trench rats, moreover, would be nibbling away the corpses' organs. No surprise whatsoever then that the trench poetry was known as the shell-shocked poetry.

The first World War had yet another decisive effect on the social imaginary. The realisation that wars were graveyards for people, especially the young, because the so-called leaders, kings, prime ministers, czars took thoughtless decisions wiped out all possible glorification of wars and empty patriotism. 

Reading poems by the hugely talented poets such as Wilfred Owen, Siegfried Sassoon, Rupert Brooke, Edmund Blunden is a soul searing experience. Truly tragic was the fate of the soldiers from the colonies who were fighting an alien war in extremely unfriendly contexts every which way. Their plight is slowly emerging from the annals, and would most authentically explore the real 'pity of war'.

Pratima@ "This War will end all wars,' wrote H.G.Wells of the first World War. Unfortunately, it just sowed the seeds of the Second, which included The Holocaust and the Hiroshima-Nagasaki!

Freedom?!?

 Recently, on July 23, we celebrated Lokmanya Tilak's birth anniversary. Unfortunately, most people, if they remember him at all, would remember August 1, his death anniversary. In the public arena, however, that day, too, is mostly, and hugely, celebrated as Annabhau Sathe's birth anniversary.

One of Aai's 'mavashi's had never heard of Tilak at all. She was genuinely surprised when I talked to her in very simple terms of Tilak's stalwart contribution to the freedom struggle. She was not aware, for example, that Tilak started the Ganapati festival as an extremely intelligent and creative way of uniting people through religious/cultural activities/symbols. 

Unfortunate, in brief, is the fact that, these days, great leaders are 'caste-(wise)-divided'! The irony of the matter is that, during his lifetime, Tilak was often denigrated as the leader of the dispossessed, of the reject!

What I admire the most about Tilak was his fortitude. Sure, he was basically  so gentle that sparrows, very shy birds otherwise, used to nestle on his shoulders while he would be busy writing in his cell in the Mandalay prison. 

The famous "I did not eat the groundnuts..." or the " even if the skies were to fall on my head,..." quotes show his tremendous  courage and bravery. In my opinion, however, his fortitude is best revealed in his attitude to journalism.

He was the editor of 'Kesari' and 'Maratha'. His editorials were fierce attacks on the then government of the colonial masters. He suffered often because of his frank opinions. Yet never ever could anyone argue that he was partial, partisan, or even judgemental. 

It is indeed a great quality as a journalist. The truth of this statement would be apparent when we look around us right now. Very, very few of the columnists, news anchors, debate participants think through issues as an honest, fair and balanced individual, as a committed intellectual enunciating in the public sphere for the general welfare. Basically, most are ignoramuses, fulminating either against (mostly) or pro a party, a government either at the state or at the central level. 

'Minimise the image of the leader you choose to hate' is the only agenda. The reverse of the coin, of course, is to 'build narratives'  that suit your preferred political  party. The attacks hence are vicious, and extremely personalised.

'His Master's Voice', be it George Soros or a given political party, is the motto. Such journalism never sees the darkness behind its own shadow, under its own feet. However much these types may be internationally acknowledged, actually they are stooges of a given ideology. 

Totally tragic is this sad situation because everywhere  across the world, both the public space as well as the welfare state are shrinking. As a thought leader, one's role as an editor/journalist/author with at least some intellectual stature has to be guarding such generous humane ideas.

Instead, these journalistic mafiaosi of all ideological varieties, are conveniently shrill and completely shrewd 'influencers', however big nationally/inter-nationally their fan following may be. Full of freshly minted recent most terms such as 'setting a narrative', for instance,  they would beat black-n-blue, metaphorically, of course, A government, X politician, and so on. Their favourite netaji may be guilty of those very actions they consider vile in the 'enemy'! It, however, mattereth not!

Surely, this was not the freedom our great leaders such as Tilak or Bhagat Singh fought for. Sadly, it is such state of affairs makes one wonder if Tilak should have accomodated more in his idea of freedom the Agarkar-Gokhale notion of independence whereby societal/cultural/intellectual growth mattered as much as or even more than political independence.

Otherwise, as is the case today,  we have an affluent society as far as opinionated atmosphere goes. This societal space, however, is truly poor when it comes to sensitive sensibility!

Pratima@ Freedom should consist of respecting others' liberties, too.

Bossy-n-boring

 Have you met people who are the ultimate when it comes to being boring-because-bossy? For such people, they alone (tops their inner circle) are right. They are the paragons of all that is correct, right, proper. 

The political party they prefer cannot do any wrong. Their excessive adulation of a leader grants him/her and, of course, them a halo, while the leader they love to hate is Satan incarnate, and his/her followers, unlike them, have to be biased "andh bhakta"! 

All they do, think, are is by definition THE truth. So the political leader they hate is the worst demon on this earth. Unthinkingly opinionated, they do not even seem to grant the wheels within wheels within wheels involved internationally when it comes to politicking in a post-LPG, neo-colonial world.

When it comes to governance, they do not seem to realise that a leader is the face behind whom are tremendous scholars, brilliant strategists, superb think tanks who do a lot of analysis, genuine thinking, real time, life like practice, and testing paradigms through actual ''re-search'' which goes far far far beyond forwarding wapp, insta or fb messages without even reading them. So the same message, same image, same video would be repeatedly forwarded on the same group with the same spiteful hatred! They do not even notice it as they never seem to read neither before nor after!

Their world is unbelievably black-n-white. They, of course, are by definition the white. So it is okay if they never "listen". Their minor most successes are to be tom-tom-ed to the whole world, to the hilt, with band-baaja-baraat. At times, the whole day, someone's intimate problems would get discussed threadbare, without nary a thought about or the opinion of the third party or the others involved who has no voice due to absence.

Such is their binary vision that they would eternally gas on and on and on about tolerance, democracy, space, but would never grant it to others. You have to be either with them or against them. No different, alternative vision is possible in such a bullying world. The moment a word is uttered against their firmly and blithely held beliefs, huge hectoring from all sides would bombard.

Every argument is a menacing  battle in which they alone must win. Every ignorant, prejudiced opinion they believe in has to be THE truth. How to deal with such goony, loony behaviour? 

Laughter for one thing is the best medicine.  Ignoring them, their lies, their attacks completely, without getting hassled is the other. Of course, being bossy, it would not occur to them that you are no longer in the loop. That matters not because you are left in peace wherein their piecemeal approach cannot pressurise!

Pratima@The best compliment to such people is: eh, you brighten the room when and because you leave it!

Parent proud

 These days, every alternate day is this day or that day. Well, it seems there is a 'batata wada' day as well! In such a tinsel wor(l)d sold to market forces, there are certain days that give a potent purity to this happening practice of 'day' celebrations. One such day is July 23, the Parents' Day.

Well, parents make us, mould us every which way. They give wings to our dreams, however much the process may take the sheen off their realities. The beauty of it all is that the huge sacrifices they make are priceless. This costless caring is born out of genuine love and concern, however much many may choose to consider it restricting domination. 

True, their experiences belong to a different generation which may not know of many contemporary constructs. Yet, they, too, have lived a life with its own constraints and conditions. If communicated genuinely, I think they understand. 

Let me give you my own example. Papa once asked me if it was okay running private tuition classes. When I explained to him how such a practice created a parallel education system which might defeat  (the very purpose of) education itself (it actually does so, right?), he immediately accepted the silly and sick compromises involved in setting up private tuition classes.

Hence I always feel and strongly argue that my parents were superb celebrities, much better than many touted as such. They allowed us all be. For the sake of our education, they had to sacrifice their right to togetherness. In those days of salaries which were never six figure, they never made us face any lack of any sort. 

True, we were not allowed to be wild, but they always made our ways wide, every which way. Hence I do not mind taking every possible opportunity of celebrating their memory because they lived a lifetime centered only around their children, and, mind you, with no expectations in return. Long live Aai-Papa! Hope I can make my life more and more a worthy tribute to their parenting.

Pratima@ Oxytocin, the happy harmone, is parents' eternal harmonal balance, however much children may cause them to 're-lease' cortisol, the stress harmone!

The Sound of Music: (Pandit Shivkumar Sharma on Hindi Film Music of the Golden Era)

 Bliss indeed it was to attend the programme this evening, as listening to Pandit Shivkumar Sharma speak on the Hindi film music was absolute heaven! Mitra Foundation was presenting its fiftieth programme. Yes, I think I saw a ppt to that effect. Nothing could be a better and fitter mode of celebration than an audio-visual presentation entitled "Revisiting the Golden Era of Bollywood Music" in the august company of Panditji.

The maestro literally lived up to his name. Shiv in Sanskrit means all that is beneficent, benign, pure. Panditji indeed was the perfect living example of  this principle. To begin with, he did not rattle on about his own music direction. He chose instead to talk about the great music directors of the golden era of Hindi film music, and how he played the santoor for them. It was thus a tribute to the masters by a maestro.

Unbelievable was the simplicity with which he explained the unique qualities of each one of them. In a soulfully courteous and deferential way, he talked of their modes of music making. Yet there was not even a trace of fawning, of insincere flattery.

With a twinkle in his eyes and a gentle yet naughty smile, he regaled the audience with nuggets of special interludes while making music with these great gifted souls. He talked of his career choices, of the fun points of the musical togetherness with the masterful magicians of sur, taal, laya. Genuinely, the feel he created with artlessness despite being such a great artist was of a friendly sharing. Truly humbling was his humility, especially when everywhere around, one sees absolute nobodies croaking and crowing noisily.

As alluring as the innocent transparency that shone through every word he uttered was the self reflexivity. He appeared to be thinking through, analysing the very ways and processes of the great music making then, and his contribution to it.

Given this self reflexion, one caught a glimpse of how paradigm shifts happen in a creative mind while he talked of how he made santoor an instrument accepted by the classical tradition and the film music composers.

 His sincere, committed analysis did not dismiss the current ways disparagingly either. Instead he chose to talk of the excellences of the creative explorations. Indeed every which way, this interview was a great learning experience, both as an ardent admirer of music and as a human being. I must say Gokhale Madam's son is an absolutely lucky guy to have  trained with Panditji as his guru!

Well, the two hours seemed to be too short a period to explore the one hundred strings of beautitude. How I wished the interview continued beyond the mingy boundaries of time-n-space, and, in fact, forever! Huge thanks to Gokhale Madam for the invite! Hope Mitra Foundation would allow us to participate in many more such festive feels of music.

Pratima@ Greatness is where there is truth, simplicity and goodness, as Tolstoy would say.

Truly Disturbing

 Yes, I am referring to the horrible Manipur pic. Partially, I have talked about it in my blog on July 20, entitled "Old myth, new meanings".

Today I want to talk about another aspect of such events that I find truly shocking and simply horrible. Well, I have seen just a pic of the terrible event on a women's group, and I found it so shocking that I deleted it that very second. I do not have the gumption to watch a video of any such heinous act.

And there, in my opinion, begins the real horror. The question is who could be the photographer who could coolly take pics of such an atrocity? Who would be the videographer who could shoot ( and later edit!) such an event calmly? Why did the 'ace photographer',  the 'sharp shooter' (irony absolutely meant) continue to watch via the camera? Why did he(most probably! Hopefully, it was not a 'she'!!) NOT throw away the camera, and instead help the girl? 

In my opinion, the 'ace' photographer and the 'cool' video maker, too, need to be booked. In fact, they are as culpable as the actual perpetrators. Indeed, is not it our prime duty to help the victim? How can anyone  indulge in photography/videography at such a moment? 

Honestly, I have always wondered at the onlookers who video-shoot a critical moment, an accident victim dying on the road, for example, instead of using that very phone to call an ambulance!

What is truly disturbing and deeply shocking  is this apathy toward and voyeurism about violences of all sorts. Equally horrible is to keep such reels safeguarded in one's mobile/computer for the posterity!?! 

I, for example, did NOT watch a particular site fully, and surely not for the second time because it appeared to be very cruel to wild animals kept as pets!  If watching cruelty is difficult, how can anyone film it, edit it, and preserve it? Why did not the person go to the police, the court for suo motto cognizance with such concrete evidence in his (hopefully, not 'her') mobile/video camera?

In brief, the spectator mentality is really inexplicable. That calm of mind which allows a horror happen in front of you, that brave spirit which allows you to film it is truly disturbing because it indicates a truly violent, absolutely sick society of cheap peeping Tom's! 

Such kinky cowards  seem to forget that what you allow to happen to others today may be your possible future, too. If you choose to merely film/shoot/edit a horror, tomorrow you could be the victim, thus 'doubly shot', once by the perpetrator and next by the cool cameraman! Better to remember it is real life, not a reel!

Pratima@A mute, unconcerned spectator is as much a criminal as the perpetrator of a vicious act! How to watch (through a lens!) a cruel, inhuman event?

Monsoon madness

 When it rains, it rains like mad. So true it is of the monsoon this time. The "orange alert" is the lowest common denominator currently, while the "red alert" is not exactly uncommon these days. In a way, it is nature's fury because in the north, two monsoon rich winds collaborated and collapsed together to create havoc as in the Kedarnath valley tragedy of the year 2013. 

In other words, the monsoon madness of the title of our blog does not have any romantic associations right now. Actually, the monsoon mystique is simply gorgeous. The drizzle of the rain, the slight chill in the air, a warm shawl gently  snuggling against the shoulders, great music, superb coffee and a book, with the small little garden coming alive with a riot of green and the fragrance of superb flowers, not to mention the birds'  calls when the drizzle stops intermittently,  and the pet beside dozing off with soft snores, well, if there is heaven on earth, this is it!

The Monsoon 2023, however, is not this dreamy. It is nightmarish as the landslide wiping out an entire hamlet proves. Much worse was the tragic story of a baby girl hardly six months old, yet again near Mumbai.

The Thane-Kalyan-Dombivali area was literally thrashed by the monsoon. The casualty was the local traffic. The water- clogged railway tracks brought the 'lifeline' of Mumbai to a grinding halt. There were local trains after local trains lining up on the tracks. 

It was clear thus that the rail traffic would take ages to restore, back to normalcy. So like very many other passengers, this trio, the six months old ill baby, her mother and her grandpa had no other option but to walk along the tracks. Near the swollen nullah, the track was narrow beyond belief. So the mother slipped. The grandfather pulled her up. As she found it extremely difficult to walk along the narrow track, the baby girl was handed over to her grandpa from whose arms, she slipped, fell in to the overflowing, roaring nullah, and was washed away! No trace so far despite the frantic search!

What a heart-wrenching story! Poor soul! What a horrific end of a very young life! May be, she had a fever, and hence was a little sleepy. She would never  open those tiny eyes again. How unbearable it must be for the mother and the grandfather! The very imagination boggles in the face of such grief, especially because there is no closure for them as the body was never found. 

Extremely tragic tale it is, like that of the victims who were washed away in the Savitri river  bridge collapse near Mahad a few years ago. Many vehicles, including state transport buses, just vanished in to the fierce flood then!

Such a monsoon is real mad. Nowhere is life safe, not in the rural area by the hillside, nor in the burgeoning  metros! Wish the rain goes away from the human habitats, and concentrates only in the fields, and the catchment areas of dams!

Pratima@ To quote Bob Neuwerth,

"The wind turns like a dagger

The rain falls like a hammer

The sky has grown dark

The weather crashes down

What's lost cannot be found

The night is closing

The atmosphere is lethal

And we fear all evil!

The ocean rolls like thunder

The tempest pulls us under

The dogs are howling

As broken structures rust

False idols turn to dust

All lies in ashes" 

And all appears too late, quite late!

Nature's fury

 Every monsoon has its own cruel and deeply moving stories to whip the sleepy human consciousness up so as to make human beings aware that they are playing with danger. The Pune-Mumbai road is, for example,  notorious for monsoon landslides. Equally infamous are the dilapidated structures, about to totter down any minute like a pack of cards.  

Well, the Mumbai monsoon is undoubtedly tough, as high tides, too, rise at the same time. The traffic snarls due to this phenomenon are nothing in  comparison with the death trap called open manholes. Just a few years ago, a famous surgeon was thus washed away to his death.

The monsoon melodrama, however, acquires huge proportions when landslides wipe out an entire hamlet. In 2014, it was Malin near Pune. Yesterday, it was Irshalwadi in the Khalapur Tehsil in Raigad district, some sixty miles away from  Mumbai. A hamlet almost disappeared due to the 11 p.m. landslide.  The exact loss of human lives and property is yet to emerge.

Why did the tragedy happen? Sure it was incessant and heavy rain. However, it is clear that it has to be due to the human intervention in the ecological balance. The digging up of the soil for rice plantation, destroying hills for constructions of all sorts, uprooting trees loosen the soil. The torrential rains do the rest! 

Yet another example it could be of the need to respect Nature, not to destroy it in multiple ways. Well, nature's fury, unlike Macbeth's, is not mere thunder and lightening, signifying nothing. It means a warning, and we must follow and respect such warnings.

Well, in the post-LPG era and given its neo-colonial underpinnings, the human greed seems to be overarchingly shadowing the very existence. Human beings have satisfied their needs long time back, and are looting, literally torturing Nature in multiple ways. In a way, Nature is not really answerable for such a feral response if we choose to and continue to ignore  its wake-up calls! How many Malin's are we waiting for to happen till we wake up?

Pratima@Nature can be our friend, if we allow it to flourish, to exist, live, bloom, fructify! Why make it our worst enemy?

Old myth, new meanings!

 The Ramayana is a unique symbiosis of the human and the fauna. We have very many references to birds and animals in the Ramayana. Why, the very initiation of the Ramayana is rooted in the cruelty meted out  to a bird. The "kraunch vadha", the heartless killing of the (heron like) kraunch bird, begins the great epic!

Then there is Jatayu, the father figure of a bird, who tries to save Seeta from the clutches of Ravana. I think he is the "gridhraraj", that is, the king of vultures (though some versions have him as an eagle). Yet he opposes the vicious act of Ravana trying to abduct Seeta. He fights off the demonic impropriety which costs him his life.

Why, there is even a 'kakbhushundi', a chiranjivi, that is, the eternally living spirit  who narrates the Ramayana to Garuda in the form of a crow, it seems.

All of us have loved the small little squirrel who cutely helps Rama build the bridge, pitching in her wee little bit that strengthens the bridge. Most all birds and animals enjoy, in brief, a lovely symbiotic  relationship with Rama, thus making him an ideal ruler who is kind and generous with all the forms of life. In this Utopia, Hanumna reflects this bond perfectly.  Why, even the Wali story can be explained as the just act necessary to destabilize a usurper.

In this context, the only story difficult to explicate is the Jayant story. He enters the Ramayana as a memory. In the Sunderkand, Seeta is narrating to Hanumana the story of their triune stay near the Chitrakuta. 

Rama, it seems, is a little tired one particular day, and sleeps off, resting his head on Seeta's lap. Jayanta comes there in the form of a crow, and disturbs their loving togetherness. Jayanta tries to insult Seeta. He pecks at her breast, while in the Bhakti Panth versions of The Ramayana, he pecks at her feet. 

She does not want to disturb the nap Rama is enjoying. While trying to shoo off the  nasty bird, she is wounded, and her clothes get dishevelled. Thus Rama wakes up, while Seeta is trying to ward off the bird with a blade of grass.

Rama assigns the blade of grass the power of the brahmastra. It starts chasing the bird who is actually Jayanta, the son of Indra. He tries to hide behind his father (equally lascivious! Like father, like son! Remember the Ahilya story?). But even in the heaven, the brahmastra chases him. Finally, when he falls at Rama's feet, Rama explains that the weapon cannot be taken back, and it hits the bird's eye, blinding him in one eye. 

May be, the story can be read as a poetic explanation of a crow's unique vision. I look at it differently though. I think that Jayant stands for all the wicked forces that bother a hapless woman. Significant it is hence that Seeta remembers the story when she is absolutely helpless.

The punishment Jayant is made to suffer is the perfect punishment meted out to anybody who disrespects a woman. I remembered this rather lesser known story because on a 'women empowerment group' was shared a horrifying pic of a naked woman being paraded by men who were all along violating her. It was so horrible I could not even look at it, and deleted it immediately.

Apparently, it is from Manipur. I would not know how far this is true. Wherever it might have been taken, the pic was a terror made more vicious because the men were leering shamelessly. It proved how unsafe women are, especially in violent areas full of insurgencies.

The tragedy of the ancient Jayant myth, now re-visited in the third decade of the twenty first century, is that now there is no brahmastra whatsoever against such crows, be it the Manipuri men as it was reported on the group or be it the rejected, obsessed creep of a besotted fool as in the Pune incidents. 

Difficult it is getting by the day for a self respecting woman to live, when the whole stupid world cheers on such cheap fools called 'loving men'! So this use of an old myth to explicate a contemporary cruelty! 'Old bottle, new wine' version as the English phrase goes which would in this context translate as ancient injustices, but no new significations as far as remedies and reparations go!

Pratima@ Discrimination, thy name is patriarchal  injustice!

Correct or right?

 Does the title confuse you? To begin with, let us look at the difference of meaning in these two near synonyms. Hope you know that no two words are exact synonyms. There is always a shade of difference as far as meaning goes. A 'slim' girl most like; a 'thin' girl many dislike, right?

So let us look at our two words. 'Correct' refers more to errors. 'Right' has more of positivity built in. Our choices, be it of career, books, people, are 'right' rather than 'correct'. We prefer the 'right' direction, right!?!

Well, let me analyse the difference by giving you another example. If you have a child at home, and the kid will not go off to sleep unless the bedtime story ritual is followed, should you, or should not you, tell Aesop's fables, Anderson's fairy tales?

Well, there are people who argue that it is not 'correct' to tell children such false stories. Their argument is animals do not talk! Are not, moreover, fairy tales far away from reality? Well, this argument may be 'correct', but it is not 'right'.

Fables, fairy tales teach children very many life lessons indirectly, and in an amusing way. Such stories, moreover, make their intellectual and imaginative capacities better. Their visualisation improves. Their concentration gets better. Most important, their communication attains a strong base as they get a lot of language exposure by listening to stories, the narrativization, the dialogues involved in story-telling.

Is it then 'right' to be 'correct' and jump on to the band wagon of some recent, half-baked fad regarding child rearing, and deprive the child the happy, intimate feel of nestling next to the most loved adult which adds in a huge way to the protective feel, making the child happy and healthy?

Well, in my opinion, most often in life, it is better to be 'right' than 'correct'. 'Right' has in it an in-built sense of the good, the ethical, while 'correct' as in 'politically correct' is more hypocritical, however 'smart'!  So the choice is yours when to be 'correct' or to be 'right' is the question.

Pratima@'Right' is legally and ethically right as well, which makes you spend a lifetime happily, while 'correct' may just fetch you a few brownie points. Hardly very important, right?

The Mandela Magic

"There can be no greater gift than that of giving one's time and energy to helping others without expecting anything in return," is indeed a great quote celebrating a wonderful capacity. Such generosities, extremely rare, need to be celebrated. This urgent need of honouring benevolence is a clarion call by whom? Any guesses? Gandhiji! Yes, you are almost there, almost right coz a follower of Gandhiji's was the man who wrote it.

Okay, let us not waste time and energy going about guessing the father of this quote! It was Nelson Mandela who thus made the world understand the unstated, silent strength of generosity beyond the need for reciprocity.

Quite possible it is to argue that his entire  anti-apartheid movement was a rejection of a give-n-take of responses, bounties, goodies because a 'return gift' approach to relationships creates mo(ve)ments of imbalances wherein the weaker, the less powerful,  the marginalised, like the black in the white obsessed South Africa, are always at the receiving end.  

This apostle of an equal freedom rejected such systemic inadequacy by spending sixty-seven years of career fighting racial injustices, more than thirty of these from his prison cell. Hence the real tribute to him is not the very many first's in his illustrious career, the first black lawyer in, the first black president of South Africa, the black Nobel Prize winner, and so on.

The genuine pledge to his memory is the 'sixty seven' mission whereby one pays respects to this exponent of democracy and liberalism in the face of oppressive apartheid by spending sixty Seven minutes per day doing some concrete good to the the causes he espoused. 

The genuine celebration of his birth anniversary on July 18 is a re-dedication to all the values he espoused. Thus would the ideals he fought for be realised, slowly but surely, thereby making the world more humane. 

Long live, Madiba, which is an honorific title of respect, deriving from his native Xhosa clan word signifying all that he stood for during, and beyond, his eventful career.

Pratima@"For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others," writes Mandela. Touche!

What comes first?

 What comes first? Did the title make you think of that ancient debate which apparently science seems to have now answered, that is, the rather notorious egg/chicken stuff? Well, no, not really! That is not the theme I am referring to.

Actually, I was alluding to the great Tilak-Agarkar debate. Yes, both of them, best friends, fell out over the issue, 'what comes, and what should, come first?' Indeed, it was an issue literally central to the very identity of and meaning of being 'Indian', especially because we were not Indians then. We were the colonised. In other words, the answer to this question would decide the very future of our national being. Hence this title of our blog.

So what exactly were the two alternatives defining this debate? Tilak thought that political freedom preceded any social re-vamp, while Agarkar thought progressive societal contours would accede political maturity. What great thinkers they both were to have so profoundly and deeply  thought of the independent India, that heaven of freedom in to which the country should wake up, as Tagore would put it.

Indeed, what wonderful thinkers they all were, Bhagat Singh, Tilak, Agarkar, Gokhale, Nehru, Gandhi, Bose, Patel. The list is literally endless. What I admire the most about them is the fact that their debates dealt with huge and honest ideas. These were not merely self-centered either. They had the larger good at heart. They respected each other, moreover, and seemed ready 'to agree to disagree'. They made, moreover, the common man dream, debate, discuss "i-deals", that is, both ideals and "i deal's", that is, actual action charged with these ideals.

Well, now in the third decade of the twenty- first century, almost a century later, we all are enjoying the fruits of their labour. Oh, yes, we continue to be the argumentative Indians as well. What do the common, ordinary Indian people debate these days though? A majority would heatedly squabble about, bicker over grand themes such as hotelling, recent most films, tinsel celebrities and their glamour, t.v. serials, cricket, fashion, and politicking, both at the workplace, and as party politics!

So vitiated and minimised is the public space now that public intellectuals of the giants of the variety mentioned above no longer matter much, while the private space obsesses with 'i, me, mine'. The question now hence is, what comes first? Self-respect or self-centeredness!?!

Pratima@They say, tell me who your friends are, or show me the books you read, and I shall tell you who you are. May be, these days, it could also be, tell me what comes first for you, and I shall tell you who you are!

Death, here is thy sting

 The newspapers and the social media had a rather sad, quite tragic, news today. A rather well-known, senior Marathi actor in his mid-seventies was found dead in his rented house. It appears he might have died a few days back.

Sad as the news is, it made me think a lot, and deeply. How come none of his relatives, however busy, never noticed that he had not communicated with them for three long days? Or was it the case that he was so lonely, so left out that none communicated with him at all?

Yet another question I have issues with is how come he never had a "mama", a male nurse, with him, especially because he was a senior citizen, and living all alone,  and he was supposedly ill, moreover? It seems he was staying in that rented house while he was recuperating!

Even in the apartment as well as in the area, how come none noticed that he has not been seen around for quite some time?  Serious questions with tragic overtones galore! Surely, as a senior actor, there could be financial issues as well as there is hardly any support system once an old actor stops getting any work, any role.

Of course, one feels very bad for the diseased, and one prays that his soul would rest in peace. Yet this death brings out the gerontological issues in to focus yet again. The senior citizens form almost more than forty per cent of the population. Most do not have any pension. The next generation, busy with their own lives, may not stay with them. Daily life itself must be death. Hence the title of the blog. 

There must be well-defined policy measures regarding the elderly. That is an urgent social need. These policy measures include not merely financial issues. The police, for example, must every alternate day be on the round, keep a contact with the elderly in the vicinity, for instance. There could be jobs wherein the young or middle-aged  trainees work for a few hours per day. The job profile would  include collecting the gerontological data, keeping in touch with the aged per day, fulfill their shopping needs, for instance.

The elderly, too, should manage their finances well. If they have no support system and are physically ill or weak, they should rather stay in a hospice. As for children, they are legally supposed to take care of their elders. And, oh, yes, with  such cheap data available in excess in India, a wapp message a day costs nothing either for the old or the relatives, right?

Despite these possible measures, one gets the shivers when one thinks of the condition of the low income group elderly. Life must really be hell for them. Death here is thy sting would be the precise summation of their non-descript, derelict lives!

Pratima@ Life is so costly and death so cheap these days that there are 'supari' killers; families are entering in to suicide pacts; so-called lovers are killing women they obsess over, and stalk. Very few are the ways for living, while many are the modes of dying. Death, here is thy sting!

Small step, but a giant stride!

 It was 2.34 p.m. Ever since they woke up at whatever time in the morning, most all Indians had been reminding each other of the historic mo(ve)ment to happen at 2.34 instant. The WhatsApp statuses were overflowing with the "watch-it" messages, just as 2.40 onwards, all the internet modes, every audio-visual medium would buzz with constant pics of the event flashing across every possible screen and/or each audio wave-length.  

Yes, it was the ISRO propelling the Chandrayan III in to the space, on its way to the moon. Why is it "a small step, but a giant stride"? Well, first and foremost, it saves on fuel. It uses a unique mode of propulsion whereby by orbiting around the earth almost like a planet, it escapes the pull of gravity, propelling itself higher with each gyration. Thus would it enter the lunar sphere as well. The process takes time, almost close to two months, but makes it highly cost effective. Apparently, some recent flop films had a bigger budget!  

This "made in India" device should manage a smooth landing on the lunar surface this time. Once that happens, India would be in the first five countries to 'match' that feat, but India would still be unique because the Chandrayan would land near the lunar southern part. The rover would search the lunar surface, and hopefully the Indian 're-search' of the lunar surface would bring back solutions regarding better ways to manage the fuel deficiency on the earth.

Hopefully, it would not add to the rat race which consists of the  "spatial" ( in all senses of the term) colonisation of the moon. Sure, the days of the lunar tourism appear very far away, especially given the Titan disaster, but with AI advent, there is no knowing! 

Hence, the scientific-technological wonder is indeed "a small step for India, but a giant stride for the entire mankind"! Here is wishing the spacecraft a highly successful mission and a safe re-turn to Terra Firma!

Pratima@ "The intelligent use of science and technology is the tool to acquire a new direction," says Jacques Fresco. I would add "a new dream" as well to the quote.

Paper is worth it!

 Just a few days back was celebrated the 'paper bag day'. Are you sniggering and saying that these days there are days aplenty. In a way, you are right, though there is no need to mock, right? Yes, practically every day is some day these days. Yet what this particular day celebrates is indeed important. Let me clarify.

Most citizens are just careless about the excessive use of plastic. It does not much bother them that plastic can cause immeasurable harm to the environment. Unlike other materials, plastic is both non-natural and (hence) non-bio-degradable. Whether in the sea, atop mountains or in the local market, human-beings have created sky high dumps of plastic that are suffocating  animals, fish, fowl, the very environment. 

Hence the urgent need to stop the use of plastic bags which appear attractive and handy. Well, there has to be some alternative. Thus emerge the paper bags. Yes, paper bags look chic. They are easy to make, too. Once I did make a few for us, that is, my  brothers and for me, and Aai. In fact, so easy is the process that the unemployed can start a small 'work from home' unit even if they do not have any specific skill sets/crafts.

Yes, despite such obvious advantages, I do have a few problems with paper bags. For one thing, they wear-n-tear easily, and, yes, literally. In brief, they lack shelf life. They are useless even when it rains just a wee little. Such a wet bag just lands up in the trash bin. Obviously, people would thus waste a lot of paper. True, paper is bio-degradable. To make paper, however, trees get wildly cut! 

As an alternative, how viable are such temporarily attractive ideas? Let me give you an example. The e-vehicles need batteries that and their chargers need metals, and hence mining in big way! May be, hence, natural alternatives like wind/solar energy could be solutions as they have appear less destructive.

In my opinion, however, the real solution is minimising our greeds. The moment it happens, our needs would get taken care of, I suppose. If I am happy buying veggies at the doorstep hawker, I would not need any kind of bag, right?  If people do not obsess with mindless purchase and senseless buying sprees, plastic bags would be less and less needed! Well, unfortunately, ideals never translate in to 'I-deal'! In such a world, the lesser evil is always better, and hence is to be chosen!

Pratima@"Some people do not like change. But you have to embrace change if the alternative is disaster," says Elon Musk.

The Pi Precision

 Remember Pi? We all met that imprecise precision during our school days, right? Must be in the eighth standard, I suppose. Pi, the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter, is by definition irrational, as it is not equal to the ratio of any two whole numbers. 

As old as the Babylonians and our dear Eureka Archimedes (remember how fun n crazy he appeared during the school days), the famous pi travelled via Newton to our very own Ramanujan. Its famous symbol would steal our sleep when the school exams would approach fast, right?

Though just the mere approximations of the pi are taken in to consideration while busy with actual calculations, pi is the fulcrum of architecture, civil engineering, electrical engineering, and mechanical engineering.

Literature as usual is hugely broad-minded. So, yet again, as an avid reader, it was nice meeting Pi, the story behind the name, and the tremendous saga of his travel with Richard Parker, the fierce bengal tiger, in "The Life of Pi" by Yann Martel. Despite the inevitable animation, truly awe-inspiring was the intensely surreal film based on the novel, and directed by Ang Lee.

Pi, unlike its homophonic  'pie', is both simultaneously, infinite uncertainty and perfect precision. May be, hence, it is a factor everywhere, in our daily lives, in our effective communications, in our careers, in our small decisions that have a big effect, in our relationships; the list can be endless, right?

May be, pi is that sudden moment of not breathing that makes an alive existence in to a 'body'. May be, pi is that point of epiphanic illumination that suddenly explodes the meaning that we have been exploring for a lifetime. Yes, pi is that forever search of the infinite in the finite, whatever may be the name you may give it, God being one of them. Pi, in short, remains with us even after school days and childhood ways transform in to nostalgia, a blurred memory!

Pratima@On this Day dedicated to the phenomenal Pi/a genuine attempt to "re-search" its how, what and why!

Post Population

 Remember Wordsworth's poem entitled "We are seven"? Right now, all of us in this heavenly existence on this earth, too, can say, we are seven, though the only word we would have to add after the numerical, that is, seven, would be billion! Yes, we are seven billion right now, and we are heading fast towards eight billion. Hence this post on population, as we are indeed post (beyond, too and also concerned with) population!

Whatever might be the density of population region and/or continent wise, each country is grappling with population explosion in its own way. So far, China was the most populated country. India, however, has overtaken the dubious honour! 

Yes, right now we are the most populated country. That is indeed a bothersome truth, however much we may crow about the 'population alias demographic dividend' which at times threatens to be a ticking bomb.  For an example, look at the competitive exam scenario, gotten notorious after the unfortunate Pune incidents. The posts may be intermittently getting declared, and while endlessly preparing for the qualifying exam, without a Plan B, the young do not realise when they grow middle-aged!

 Similarly, there is a gerontological explosion as well. Given the medical in(ter)ventions and slightly better life conditions, the typical life span has increased. Every household these days has at least two senior citizens above seventy-five. Given the break down of the joint family system and children not always being nearby, the elderly, often without a proper pension, have their own huge problems.

Hence today, on the World Population Day, the need to think through the issue. How to humanely control the exploding population? How to put to use the energy of the inefficiently skilled youth, especially when the AI era is ruling the roost? How to make use of the excellent expertise of the highly productive elderly? Many are the issues that need urgent answers in our over populated world. Hope soon as many answers would emerge as many are the people!

Pratima@ Why populate the world much too much if sustainable development is the objective!?!

The Causes and the Cures of the Iago Phenomenon

 Shakespeare's "Othello" is indeed (one of) his best. There are very many reasons that make it a perfect play. Let us not right now go in to all these. Let us instead explore the Iago Phenomenon.

Who is Iago? An ensign! The first remarkable aspect of his personality, in my opinion, is that he is wonderful at creating perceptions. He is a master at creating images, setting and releasing narratives. He makes the foolish Roderigo believe, for example, that Desdemona loves him. Another perception he creates right from the beginning is that the simple, genuine, naive, straightforward Desdemona is good at  double games! Thus he makes Brabantio, her father, agitated, irritated against her.

Yet another narrative he sets up is his so-called closeness, concern and care for Othello. In fact, he makes Roderigo and Casio, too, believe that their welfare is his concern. Excellent he is at telling half-truths as the handkerchief trap proves. One can go on adding up his awful oddities.

The real issue though is not the 'how' and the 'what' of his devilry. Rather it is the 'why'. Why does he ruin an innocent life? Is it because of the race issue, the black Othello getting all sorts of goodies? Is it personal jealousy of Othello? Is it an attempt to get even with Casio who got an undeserved promotion, which  in Iago's opinion he himself should have got? 

Why the corrupt viciousness indeed? His "motiveless malignancy" is indeed a mystery within a jumble! In my opinion, however, he is obsessed with power, power over personalities, over events, even when, and, in fact, precisely because he is a nobody. 

Well, in real life, too, the Iago phenomenon abounds because Iago is not merely a literary character. It is a personality trait. Around us, too, there are very many curious characters who try to "finish off" our image, our future, our simple, innocent life for no rhyme, no reason.

 Even when supportive Emilia's are extremely rare in real life, how to tackle the Iago types? How to confront the sly? How to untangle the web of multiple lies they manage to weave with subtle expertise? How to Confront the web maker? Any solutions?

Pratima@Tit for tact does not work always!

Perspective

 Perspective it is, I believe, that makes or mars our attitudes,opinions and assumptions about everything, be it people, be it places, be it animals.

Let me give you a concrete example. Most people hate it when dogs howl, especially at night. Well, as for me, the doggy howl may not exactly be music to my ears. It never ever bothers me though, as I LOVE  dogs! In fact, I feel a little worried when they howl because I feel that they must be in real agony, facing genuine trouble such as an upset stomach, for instance. 

In brief, since my perspective is that of loving kindness, i am never ever irritated with any sound the doggie may choose  to make, be it a howl or be it a snore.

Well, my perspective/attitude is innocent. Hence there are not any worries. However, when perspectives ossify in to prejudices, they can indeed be a bother. This fact holds good for everything and everyone.

I suppose, an example may prove my point yet again. Look at the current season itself. Initially much in demand, given the horrible holiday temperature, not to mention the pre- monsoon sultry climate,  the rains appear to be THE boon itself. But that initial enthu lasts just a little, a week(end) long supposedly.

Thereafter, the monsoon becomes a bitter bother, what with the moonwalk along the pot-holed paths during the day, and the mosquitoes feasting on your blood at night! Absolutely tiresome! You literally wait eagerly for the divine intervention. Finally, the rains stop. You enjoy, in brief, any season in perspective, with(in) your opinions. In brief,  dear perspective, long live! Long live, the perspective!

Pratima@Remember the story of the old man whose elder daughter was a farmer's wife, and the other, a potter's? Never ever could the poor soul bless properly, given the contrasting perspectives!

Curiosity kills

 On June 25, early morning, i wrote the blog about the tragedies the refugees suffer. I must say that this theme is real close to my heart so much so that I recently wrote in a reputed Marathi magazine an article on refugee childhood through the example of Ailan Kurdi, and Khalid Hosseni's book on the child's sad death. 

On June 25 afternoon, I got a very interesting forward by my brother. Raju is himself a shippie, and is currently teaching future shippies. So his forward about the two recent drownings and sea burials matter. Indeed they mean a lot. 

The forward talked about the death by drowning of the three hundred Pakistani refugees off the Greek coast, while contrasting it with the richie rich five aboard the Titan  drowning literally in the deep seas.

 Indeed what a tragic loss and what a colossal waste of lives! The Pakistani refugees were dreaming of happy stable lives in the new land of acquisition. To attain this apparently impossible task, they had illegally paid astronomical sums to rapacious, ruthless middlemen. To raise the amount, they had literally sold off their very trace in the motherland. The real tragedy is that since it was a contraband covert operation, nobody even knew their names when they drowned! Curious about a safe life, they were defeated by destiny!

 Those aboard Titan also paid indeed hugely (in both the senses of the term) for a dream ride which was as ambitious as the Titanic whose remains some thousands of miles deep on the dark  seabed of the Atlantic Ocean, they were going to view. Sure it was a grand adventure in a way. Imagine being ten thousand feet below the sea surface! Their curiosity, however, was fuelled by their aggressive, arrogant ambition born out of the power of money which funded such a travel. Their curiosity about the ill fated ship was equally ambitious , equally unfortunate. 

Two different curiosities! Both proved however the proverbial truth that curiosity kills, as coincidence would have it, be it the poor Pakistani's on the look-out for a better future or be it affluent Pakistani's the Shahzada father-son duo diving for a dekko of the ruins of another long lost ambition!

Pratima@Curiosity kills not only the proverbial cat, but also 'curious' (in all senses of the term) human beings!

Celebrity Praise!

 Celebrities are often praised sky high for their qualities, right? No complaints whatsoever about them as such. At times, however, i do feel that such praise sounds a little false, rather a P.R. job!?!

Can I give an example or two? Well, I have a high regard for Amitabh Bacchan's punctuality. Undoubtedly, unlike many others enjoying celebrity-dom, he does not prove it by reaching late. Great! Good! But it is so easy for him to be on time, right? He does not need to take care of any household duties or of a senior patient at home. There are multiple minions taking care of all such extremely tough but apparently mundane duties and jobs. 

Does he, like a woman homemaker, need to look after cooking, cleaning, buying milk, veggies, groceries? Does he need to look after the entire household, dusting, washing, mopping? Does he need to stand in bus queues, hop on to buses filled to capacities, lurching like mad while you hold on to the overhead bar for the sake of dear life? 

Does he really have to worry about the traffic jam, except, may be, once in a lifetime? All his small to big chores are taken care of proxy by the paid (and therefore proficient) servants of all sorts.

All he has to do is get up on time, exercise, eat a ready (- made by others) breakfast, get dressed in clothes made every which ready for him, get driven in a chauffeured car. True, other celebrities share these privileges, but are not punctual, unlike him. 

But how can anyone compare such parasitical punctuality with, for example, a one woman army who is multi-tasking every possible way, and without any help whatsoever? However, his punctuality would be made an impossible (i)deal for such non-celebrities who are made to marvel at it, rather like the impossible body shapes of made up, decked beauties strutting the shows of all sorts, be it the  screen , the bill boards, or the ramp.

This is NOT to minimise his great punctuality. Nor is it an excuse for lazy dilly-dallying by anyone, celebrity or non-celebrity. Rather, it is a pay-attention-please call for two very important aspects of life: one, celebrating the zealously maintained punctuality of the non-celebrities, and number two, not creating p.r. stuff that creates photoshopped images of real, lived lives!

Pratima@ Are not facts stronger than fictions?

Silence

 Being silent, keeping quiet! Are these good qualities? Depends on the sphere you belong to. If you are a very philosophical person, silence is your penance. Quietude is your crown. Often, the real fast can be keeping quiet. Philosophy and religion believe that silence energises you, quietude strengthens you, gives you the pure peace.

If you are a piece, however, who belongs to the hustle and bustle of the real world, may be, silence need not be a virtue. In fact, it could downright be a vice. In the real world, relations are often like the market. That is to say, only those who shout, scream, whistle, and do whatever is possible to attract attention, survive. 

Well, I am not so very sure about this claim. I think that even in the realistic world, words that are quiet matter. May  be, given  the real politik, not to forget politics,  everybody knows everybody. That is to say, people are constantly second-guessing each other and the underlying motives. In such a 'politics' of relationships, others 'know' everyone else better than (they) themselves. Hence the screams get sniggers!

Personally, I feel that it is better basically to be quiet, and if/when necessary to talk, the best is to 'speak', that is, begin and continue a conversation which is a give and take, a two way mode of talking, but also of active listening, of keeping quiet. What say?

Pratima@ Silence speaks volumes!

A Different Doctor

 Doctors are not merely the medical practitioners. Well, does that statement appear surprising to you? Okay, let us explicate it. What does a medical practitioner do? Whatever might be the 'pathy' she/he follows, a doctor closely observes the symptoms, arrives at a diagnosis, and suggests a possible treatment, if necessary.

My submission today is that a chartered accountant performs precisely the same function as far as the financial health and/or illness of an individual and/or of a firm/company is concerned, right? A c.a. is hence a different doctor in my opinion.

Granted that many c.a's are more in to cosmetic bandaging of a financial wound, however festering it might be. In other words, most people believe that most c.a's are utmost corrupt. The common folk think that the c.a's cover up the economic/financial bad deeds of individuals and/or conglomerates. The way there are frauds like the Satyam Computers or the very many loan mismanagement scandals such as the DHFL to the Adani expose, there is undeniable proof to this charge.

Which profession, however, does not have its rotten potatoes/apples/mangoes? Sure, as the proverb in all its variation goes, a few rotten potatoes /apples/mangoes destroy the whole bag/barrel/basket. I believe though that this proverb holds good for food, but not for human beings. I believe very strongly that despite the financial, ideational, spiritual corruption's being rampant, in every field, there are two per cent genuine people, and the world goes on/survives because of that limited but effective powerhouse! 

This opinion holds true of the c.a's as well. The minority of genuine, sincere c.a's keep us financially healthy, cure the dis-eases in the system, and hence this tribute to the profession. Long live the tribe!

Pratima@ "That which is potentially the best becomes the worst when corrupted, " argues Frank de Crestia.

Perseverance pays, resilience rewards!

 There was some unexpected comment on my fb account. So opened it. Actually, I never even know which account of mine I am opening coz I do not know how, but there are four fb accounts dedicated to yours truly! So I have four birthdays as well! No harm getting birthday wishes the year long, right?  

Well, I opened one of these four accounts, and, voila, was there this most gracious, absolutely gorgeous video!!! It dealt with a bear cub. It had to be either of the poles coz the waterfall there had frozen in to a wall of ice. Yet it was very deceptive ice. It was slippery like the worst joyride ever imagined. The ice was powdery as well. It was a crumble a tumble scenario.

There was this mother-kid pair. In the beginning of the video, both tumbled down that icy slope. Mamma Bear managed to climb up the slope after a minute full of struggle.

For Chotu Bear though, it was horribly hard, truly tough. Oh, yes, before I continue with the story,  must say that this 'Mamma Bear, Chotu Bear' stuff is something my nephews loved. Especially Kunal adored the "Three Bears and Goldilocks" story. I had to describe in detail the Bear family, Mamma Bear, Papa Bear, and Chotu Bear, their neat and clean home, the threesome furniture sets, and so on. One of my loveliest memories is the story time, the story sessions during that long lost childhood. How kids grow up, and real fast!

The Chotu Bear of our video was quite some character. He slipped down the ice wall repeatedly. The ice was so dicey and tricky that his mamma kept on pacing up and down near the edge, but even she would not dare the fall yet again. 

One could feel her desperation and helplessness. Yet her kiddo never gave up. The cub slipped time and again, each time deeper, every time when he was just a step away from safety and security symbolised by his eager Mamma waiting, full of agitated anxiety, extending each time an eager to help paw.

Each time he fell back in to the slush deeper. Never even once did he give up. After every fall, each more dangerous than the earlier, he would be back, climbing up, clawing his way through the deceitful ice, full of grit and determination. The small black figure against the deadly white vertical sheet of ice was heart wrenching. He focussed very hard on climbing up after every fall, tougher, deeper and lonelier, more and more difficult to climb back.

 He managed it though. The wondrous scenario was a visual treat full of high voltage drama. The small little hero won it, absolutely the prince of the wild. The cutest and most heart tugging scene/moment was his scampering after his maman, joyfully bounding away, bouncing merrily as if nothing had happened at all. Actually though, he had fought the toughest battle of his life, and won it in absolute style! Hence the title of my blog, Perseverance pays, resilience rewards!

Pratima@ Tenacity thrives!

Wanna read my blog@bcfai.com?

 https://www.bcfai.com/post/mailfail-4-they-said-it

This site has this blog written by me which talks of the comic in the e@ducation. If you were to read "They said it", you are sure to like it.

Pratima Agnihotri 

The Guru Principle!

 As a lecturer, every year, even more than the Teacher's Day, the Guru Pournima is the day that proves the gravitas of being a teacher, given students' messages. The very term 'guru' has that respect built in it. 

Etymologically, the Sanskrit term originates from two verbs, 'gri' and 'gur'. 'Gri' means invoke, praise, while 'gur' refers to the act of raising, of lifting up. The Guru raises wisdom in our being. The Guru lifts up our mundane souls, our animal spirits. In this sense, the 'guru' is generous, large, the very antonym of 'laghu', the small. Indeed, the guru is that universal principle that is great, far reaching, wide ranging.

Who is a guru? In my opinion, our 'adya', our first and foremost guru's are our parents. They mould our very being. No wonder, in the Bhakti tradition, Sant Dnyaneshwar calls both the deity Vithoba and the guru as 'Mauli', the mother; while his 'mudra', his motto that ends his  every 'abhang' is 'bap rakhumadevivar', the father called the consort of Rakhumai, Rukmini. 

In my opinion, the guru principle is everywhere and in everyone. It resides in the ultimate guru, Socrates, who taught mankind to ask questions to questions till answers emerged lucid. 

And, yet, I find the guru in my students as well. Each batch and every student who grows close teach me something special. Let me give you an example. 

One of my Spanish batches in the BMCC Language Lab had seven visually impaired students. Ever enjoying, never down, always normal,  they strengthened the resilience within me. One of them, Raju, knew the entire textbook page by page, excercise by exercise. What is great in that? Is that what you are asking? Well, remember, they could not 'see' the book. The online mode was not so easily accessible and available then. Their only source as far as Spanish was concerned was my voice.  So Raju's commitment was phenomenal, and taught me sincerity yet again.

My brothers have been my guru's often. They have taught me how to care deeply without any obvious show-off. If Raju's generous and intrepid depth given his seafaring career enriches my being, Sanju's breadth as a corporate officer enables me in my weak moments. 

In my opinion, our pets are our guru's, too because they teach us selfless, genuine love. The babies, the children around us are family pets precisely because their affection is so genuine and truly infinite. They teach us how to love.

In other words, I find guru's everywhere in the wide, wise sky, in the ever alive trees, in the forever chirping birds, in the life giving sunlight, and in the calm, gentle moonlight. Rather like Alexander who found a guru in a spider, I find  my guru in the ant, especially when I am real down.

I locate my guru's in everyone, in scientists like Bruno, Kepler, and Galileo who paid with a lifetime to uphold the truth, in authors like Shakespeare and Kalidas who opened up delicately every fragile feel, in music, in paintings, in films that throb with the breadth and depth of life.

Oh, yes, I find a guru even within me, always in my conscience that would never allow me anything wrong, often in my sensitivity that helps me empathise, and forever in my thinking that proves to me time and again that I know so little! No wonder, I find Guru Pournima so very special!

Pratima@ The 'guru' principle is both, micro to macro. It is here, it is there, it is everywhere. It is without, and, finally, within us!

The good, the bad, the ugly

 In our lifetime, we meet all sorts of people, the good, the bad, the ugly. The good are the best of the trio, and the easiest to deal with because they are intelligent, decent, kind, gentle, generous. They never mean any harm, anyways.

As for the bad, we can find various ways to deal with them. We can always keep them at bay, for instance. We can absolutely avoid them, may be. We can even try very hard to find out the better side of them.

It is the ugly who are the real danger. Let me first and foremost clarify that these ugly people may not be ugly appearance wise at all. To begin with, in this whole world, there is NOBODY who is ugly to LOOK at. Each one of the Lord's creations has something special looks wise that makes him/her special, unique. You may lack the vision to see/perceive it. 

 The ugly, in fact, could be charm impersonated! In other words, the ugly, is a term that refers to the inner rather than the outer aspects of such people. As far as the inner world goes, what are the defining characteristics of the ugly? 

First and foremost, they are control freaks. Obsessed with power of the psychological variety, they have to control all, especially those they hate. They can go to any extent for the sake of their love of control. Black magic, tantra techniques, nothing is beyond their ugly obsession with power.

Next, they are obsessive and, as a corollary, hyper possessive. I would say that all these ugly qualities come from their innate inferiority complex. Anybody happy in her/his own skin, that is to say, within her/his own self, is never ever thus! Inferiority comes from solid self hatred.

How to deal with them? The best technique would be, I suppose, to let them know openly that one has completely, totally  seen through them. That strategy reduces their power because their cat-n-mouse games thus get nullified.

Thus does one also indicate that one refuses the victim mode. One is hence neither like them aggressive/possessive nor weak/stupid. Clearly should one indicate that one is no toy to their whimsical crudities. 

Next, one should continue to completely ignore their crude vulgarities. If such hypocritical uglinesses are totally, completely ignored, they, and the silly, cheap rumours they spread  cease to bother one, as they do NOT even exist in one's world, right? 

Which else could be the ways to counter these uglies, the Iago types, because they are viciousness personified? Oh, yes, it is psychological warfare, and hence needs subtle but sure and sane techniques, right? 

Given their negativities, why even waste words of the blog on them? So let us end with 'difficult even for the Lord to forgive them as they very well know what they are up to!'

Pratima@ Such horrors do not need to go to hell coz they are already there, and try most jealously/zealously to make all along every heaven in to their own eternal abode, the hell!

Farmers!

 An acrostic on the occasion of the day devoted to farmers. 

Forever

Accepting,

Rarely

Measuring

Earth-y

Rewards!

Suffering always, fulfilled never!

Pratima@ Farmers are the children time and again of all that is whimsical in nature, in society, in profession, and in destiny!

Doctor's Day

 Doctors and teachers, both are literally angels. At least, they are supposed to be! Sure, the best amongst them ARE indeed so as well! And, yes, the worst amongst them are devils. But being devils, that is the easiest for most, the commonest of the commonest, the weirdest of the weirdest, and, especially, the so-called intellectuals of all shades and hues/views are excellent at this game!

As for the doctors, I met many of both the varieties, the best and the worst, the angels and the devils, as I was Aai's prime caretaker, or caregiver in the new parlance! I realised then that for most members of the medical community, geriatric patients are either negligible or are milch cows. If their children are medical insurance enabled, they are source of dirty monies.

Otherwise though, they are the most negligible. Once, in a major hospital, as I was waiting on Aai in the waiting ward till she got the special room, an old lady in her mid-eighties who was to undergo a major operation the next morning, had to shuffle to the bathroom. I shall never forget the sound her backbone was making as if each bone/joint was playing hide and seek with the other. Was the doctor on night duty, the nurses were they bothered? No way! I requested repeatedly that she be given a bed pan, then took her to the bathroom myself. Every step was excruciating pain for her, but was the medical fraternity moved? No chance whatsoever!

In fact, the geriatric patients indeed get the worst out of the medical community. In January, 2021, when the nursemaid (about this great community, ask ANYONE who had to suffer the misfortune of meeting them, and you would get to hear terrible horror stories!) made Aai gulp fast  (as the grand lady wanted to attend a marriage  but also wanted to finish off the day's duties hurriedly  so that she could get the full day payment. How do my protests matter anyways, right?), and Aai choked on a big spoonful, I had to take Aai to a major hospital because how else could I get her any medical assistance in any other way, right? 

When her local doctor asked me to get her oxygen (I tried that also, believe me!) and put the phone down, and as Aai was gasping with her O2 levels prancing wildly from 70 to 20, I took Aai to a major hospital. The attendant doctor on duty in the emergency section looked at me as if I was the covid/corona virus itself! That first glance! Woh paheli (please note the pun!) nazar, indeed!

When Aai was finally admitted to the ICU, the attendant doctor (young! but, of course!) there gave me an almost hour long lecture about how I was unnecessarily troubling the old lady by getting her to hospital, about how he would have allowed his granny of the same age to die at home, and so on! Some counselling in distress indeed!

The nurses, except one from Goa, would treat all the geriatric patients in the ward as a headache. Once the on-duty doctor yelled at me hugely because I requested her a second time to look at a sore like lesion that developed during the hospital stay, a request she had chosen to completely ignore even after an hour. Incidentally, if the family caretaker was not bothered, the feed would never get given on time. My solution was I learnt myself how to go about the feed.

True, doctors, nurses, mavashi's, yes, they are all human beings. They do need rest, even on duty. Undoubtedly! But then who are patients? Are not they human beings?

Well, the message clearly  was, the elderly do not merit any emergency treatment, and better die quickly! Oh, yes, one day, each one of such worthies is going to fall ill, every one of them is going to die, hopefully not as a geriatric patient! What if they were to get a swig of their own medicine, the indifferent treatment! Do unto others as you would wish them to do unto you, in brief!

Pratima@ Doctor, heal thyself!