Unique Special Something

 Actually, May 31 is an absolutely unique day for our family. I am not sure though that my brother, Sanju, with whom it is related would really like a so very public mention of it. He is a private person when it comes to unique days that relate to him.

On this special day, however, he would not mind my sharing of three stories that deal with that unique special something called 'love'. The first one is by Premchand. It is entitled "Idgah", and it celebrates the familial love, especially the love a sensitive kid feels for his caring hard-working (grand)parent.

The second one of these deals with the bond a couple shares. As a student of literary criticism, I can point out any number of narrative faults in  it. Even then I like it tremendously. It is entitled "The Gift of Magi". Written by O'Henry, an American author, it shows the tenderness of pure love that poverty cannot corrupt.

The third story I want to talk about it is entitled "The Watch". It is written in German by Elie Wiesel, a Holocaust survivor. It shows in a very sensitive yet mature way how one survives unbelievable injustices that can neither be forgotten nor truly forgiven. A great story about growing up, it is indeed heart-rending.

Hope you would read all these, and many more. They are easily accessible on the internet incidentally. Do let me know your response, please!

Pratima@ I talked of stories today because they are one aspect of that unique special something which is the bestest period of our life, the childhood and the togetherness we share with our siblings and our parents, something that needs a unique special something of a celebration, right?

Girl Power

 My brother, Parag, a Merchant Navy Officer, has sailed the seven seas. Now he is a professor in an institute that trains Merchant Navy Officers. When he used to be aboard a ship, in those days without the internet, I used to worry myself sick.

The sea, such a lovely presence near the beaches, is quite some monster far away from the shore. Watch any number of videos on the YouTube that show the ferocity of the deep sea storms, in case you have not watched "Titanic".

A few months ago, he sent me a pic of his girl student, now a captain of a ship, who had specially come down to meet him. I do not know why, or how. But from that day onwards, my fear of the high seas has completely subsided. That is girl power for you.

Look at the seventeen girl cadets, the first  ever women's batch to pass out of the NDA. The passing out parade held at the NDA yesterday is indeed special hence. It seems, while training, these girls were on par with the male cadets, if not better.   

The NDA training is arduous, both physically and psychologically. The girls, who must have entered the NDA in their late teens, rose to the occasion with flying colours, it seems. Supporting them were parents who stood by them as pillars of strength. 

Atta, girls!  More and more power and strength to womankind!

Pratima@ Gentle feet take giant strides, right? Thousand times much better than brainless simpering, silly dolling up, and stupid running after a boy friend against parents' wishes to marry in a grandiose fashion, without a care for the cost involved, and every which way!!!

Savarkar and Sadism

 The title of our blog is, undoubtedly, provocative. No, it is not unconscious. It is a conscious and conscientious choice on my part. Am I referring to the terrible sufferings he had to face as a patriot fighting for the independence of our country? Indeed I am. The British did treat him most cruelly.

Our blog, however, is more interested in the sadism of the posthumous treatment he unfairly continues to suffer. Let us look at a few issues in our small little blog. Ah, yes, the notorious letters for pardon! Whenever I read about this crazy argument, I find it a pathetic PJ! 

As I stated in the blog yesterday, we all are determined by our contexts. Language as 'text' is much more drafted by the 'con-texts'. The language in which such petitions get written is known as officialese. This version of a language, the 'register', changes at a pace slower than a snail's. It has its own set formulae.

In other words, anybody who wrote such 'mercy' petitions then, would have to write in the same "I beg to" variety. It was not Savarkar's idiolect, his personal choice. It was the standard officialese usage then  One can quote hundreds of such usages by any number of other stalwarts then. To hurl it at Savarkar is not only ignorant in a silly way but also sadistic, especially because it savagely divides the contemporary society in to warring camps.

Yet another such sadism Savarkar consistently faces is quoting him partially, yet again out of con-text. Obviously, such an unfair treatment is vicious. Personally, my strong gut feeling is that ideologues of any variety would not have read a word from the original text(s) to deal intelligently, forget creatively, with the concepts involved. 

High-pitched bellowing requires no brains. Rather, these days, lung power is not necessary either as we do have sensitive gadgets. It is a different tale altogether that their users are insensitivity personified. Why blast a thinker without actually reading his stellar contribution? That indeed is sadistic!

I would even go a step further, and argue that any historical figure would have inconsistencies in her/his writings/positions when we analyse them in hindsight. It is always easy to blame retrospectively. Many children are unfairly unjust to their loving, hard-working parents in a similar vein, forgetting conveniently that the kind souls did their bestest in the given contexts. 

We, the comfort-guzzling children of that tough freedom struggle, are horribly sadistic to Savarkar in a similar fashion. Not only did he suffer agonies during his incarceration, but he also wrote intelligently on many issues. His ideas are more rational than any new-fangled hi-fi modernity. Reading him actually, without  dislocating him out of his times, would be the real tribute to him!

Pratima@Empty vessels make the most noise!

Dealer@Hopes

 A leader is a dealer. No, no, I do not mean the "under the table" deals which people often associate with leaders. I can never be that cynical. In my opinion, a leader is a dealer in hopes, in aspirations, in idealism, in everything that builds the character of a country, that shapes the contours of a country's future, that gives a country, a nation its unique identity.

Actually, such a description suits, for example, a good father, a wonderful teacher/lecturer, a spiritual 'guru', too, right? Then why am I referring to 'country', and 'nation'? Is that your question? Well, May 27 marks Pandit Nehru's death anniversary, and his famous "Destiny at Dawn" speech in a way captures all the points mentioned in Paragraph I of our blog.

Currently, Nehru's stars are not exactly in the ascendant. Very many are the reasons for the decline of his reputation and the downfall of the once mighty Congress Party. Actually, in Indian English Literature, he has been (lam)b(l)asted long time back. 

Want examples? Okay, read Girish Karnad's "Tughlaq". I taught this 1964 play to two consecutive batches of my post-graduate students reading Indian English literature with me. Apparently, an obvious, easily recognisable/located satire which opens up the Tughlaq years, the play is an evident political allegory that critiques the Nehruvian idealism, socialism, alignment policies as vague rather than dreamy, divorced from realities, rather the "beating in void his wings" kind of idealist Mathew Arnold thought Shelley was.

Much more biting is Shashi Tharoor's depiction in "The Great Indian Novel", yet another political allegory cum satire. This chronicle of post-Independence India, published in 1989, presents Nehru as Dhritrashtra, the blind king, given his blind idealism, while De Mokrasy is his illegitimate daughter with Lady Drewchap. So obvious are the parallels that they need no explication. Let me not lengthen the blog much too much by references to "The Midnight's Children", and many other creative attempts such as Nayantara Sahgal's.

How to evaluate the legacy of a leader who is no more? Well, in my opinion, it is always easy to analyse any individual, another era in hindsight. I always feel that the contexts make/un-make each and everyone amongst us. Given those contexts in which an individual operates or an era is defined, may be, (s)he is right, relevant, regal, right? In brief, passing judgements is easy. Better it is to understand! What say?

Pratima@"Walk a mile in their shoes" should be the only, the actual, the real paradigm of judgement, right?

 

Rains!

 There was this crazy joke. A "Punekar" says," It seems the monsoon this year is going to progress from Pune to Kerala, and to Andaman!" Fun apart, the depression in the Arabian Sea is indeed depressing! The possible La Niña effect has by now settled in to a proper pre-monsoon period!

Yes, the usual rants against the municipal corporation have to begin a month in advance this year. Yes, we all know the usual culprits, the concretisation of every inch, the lack of an effective drainage system, the missing rain harvesting, and so on, and so on! 

The most heart-rending effect of these unseasonal rains (one has to use the plural. No alternative possible at all!) was a video from interior Maharashtra. A very thin, absolutely emaciated farmer had got his crop of peanuts/groundnuts for sale in the district level market. May be, while it was getting weighed, et al, it started to rain madly. The sudden surge of the rain water was such that the poor man had no other go but to watch his yearlong hard work literally going down the drain. His pathetic efforts to save his crop from getting washed away brought a deluge of tears to my eyes. 

Our usual urban woes (sure, our kitchens, too, are soon going to suffer the pinch in the form of the price hike)  are nothing in comparison  with this terrible tragedy. Oh, yes, this poor man, incidentally, had a huge company of other equally ill-fated farmers sharing the sad fate. So, the only fervent appeal has to be, "rain, rain, go away/ do not come before your day!"

Pratima@Unseasonal rains have nothing romantic about them. They possibly cannot be the occasion of Lonavala trips with 'bhajji' plates washed down the gullet with cups of 'masala chai'!

Disasters Looming Large

 Remember the Malin tragedy? Due to incessant rains, and apparently also due to faulty farming patterns atop the nearby hill, a deadly landslide buried an entire village. Literally in a 'split' second, the debris destroyed hundreds of lives.

A similar fate is hanging over the village called Blatten in the Lotschenthal valley in the Valais region of Switzerland. Mount Kleines Nesthorn has literally been divided in to two, and the resultant debris is collapsing on the Birch Glacier below. With rocks shooting out like bullets, there is no knowing when the debris would tumble down in a huge heap of slush causing a flood and total destruction of the entire village.

The Swiss authorities have reacted  responsibly and rapidly. The entire village has been evacuated, including animals. Why, even a lame cow called Joanie has been air-lifted with the help of a helicopter, thus making real the legend of the cow flying over the moon! Researched carefully and filmed wisely, the possible landside which may occur any time has as usual attracted catastrophe tourism!

Such eventualities seem to be happening regularly these days all across the world. A week ago in Argentina, ice chunks broke off a glacier due to 'calving'. Chile witnessed five such disturbances recently, not to forget the South Pole glaciers melting, and America hopes to own the resultant strait as an alternative to the Panama Canal! Remember the Uttarakhand tragedy in December, 2024? Yes, the Kedarnath valley, too, witnessed a similar blockage last August which changed the very face of Gaurikund. How can we ever forget the very many landslides each monsoon in the Lonavala/Khandala region?

Why are such disasters looming large across the world? Due to human intervention which disturbs fragile ecologies? Due to global warming? Due to the blitzes in the Sun surface? How about the constant earthquakes quite high on the richter scale? Remember, in Greece and Italy, villages had to he hence evacuated?

Those who believe in the apocalypse are sure to predict the end of the world. Why, the Japanese version of Baba Venga has produced a strip of an impending tsunami like disaster in July which has already affected tourism there. Apparently, the entire American east coast may any time suffer a tsunami with a surge of a thousand feet water wall!

Well, seismic activities due to tectonic  shifts are difficult to be definitively predicted despite the advancements in science and technology. The only answer hence to such disastrous worries is to every day live life fully, happily, wisely and humanely. None knows which would be the last one, right?

Pratima@ Despite such gloomy news, there is a silver lining. India, it seems, is the fourth largest economy in the world, surpassing Japan!

Dreams beyond Destruction

 However old and apart we may grow, never ever snaps that umbilical cord tying us to childhood. Brothers are at the core of those dreams beyond destruction. No poclain machines are effective when it comes to demolishing those castles built in sand.  Neither time nor space nor differences of opinions as they ossify with age can dismantle those dreamy days full of 'visions' of all possible sorts.

We know very well that this well-to-do  gentleman, well-known in his chosen field, safely settled in a happy life whom we meet now is eons away from the scrawny kid with whom we shared literally every minute and each morsel. Yet beneath all the distances n differences lingers a togetherness that can trek us back to those dreams never destroyed, to that lovely, and loving, existence of sharing and caring.

Why so? Well, like our parents, our brothers, too, know us right from the beginning. Our vulnerabilities do not need to play hide-n-seek with them. No ambitions play hopscotch when we meet brothers even after years.

Brothers continue to be part of that inner space which is the real 'us' at the core. No need hence to meet every day! A general feel good message shared on the wapp would suffice, too. Within us, we know instinctively that the advice they may share can never harm. Subtly hence they are the buffers as the train of life clickety-clacks on diverse tracks. Yet there always remains a road that intact takes us back to that h(e)aven called careless childhood. Brothers hence deserve a silent heart-felt prayer  everyday for their eternal welfare! Long live the connect that joins anew us and our brothers! Happy Brothers' Day!

Pratima@ Brothers are not just close. They are inextricably knit in to our very existence. After all, the DNA doesn't differ!

Why?How?

 Papa was very fond of his hometown, Kolhapur. Often he would talk of the Rankala Lake there. Nearby the lake is a Lord Shiva temple with a big Nandi sculpture. It seems the day the Nandi is submerged in the lake, the world would end, too. If the Nandi, it is believed, daily proceeds forward by an inch, it apparently reverts two inches backwards!

Both Papa and Aai used to say that this myth is symbolic of societal attitudes, of socio-cultural praxis. In other words, mindsets take ages to change. Whatever happened in a small town near Pune proves the truth of this maxim. Yes, I am referring to the tragic abetment to suicide (it possibly might be a murder, too) of a young wife, a lactating mother whose baby is hardly nine months old.

Every detail about this most unfortunate incident is weird. Here is a young woman who married for love, against her parents' wishes. It seems, she eloped even when her father was in the hospital with a heart attack.

She, it seems, did not mind marrying the man who threatened her father as well as other possible alliances before the marriage was finally acceded to by her family. During the marriage ceremony, she did not mind the dowry, fifty-one tolas (or is it kilos?) of gold, some more kilos of silver, a Fortuner, an Activa and a grand marriage with five thousand guests, an expenditure whose total worth would run in to at least a crore! 

If she had stood up for herself and her family, and said that she was marrying for love, and would not need all such raazmaataaz, would she have been saved a tragic death? If she was bold enough to elope and marry, why did she choose suicide? If she was poisoned when she was three months pregnant, and had to be admitted to the AIMs, it seems, why did she opt for returning to her in-laws for further harassment? How come her parents sent her back? Why could not she instead support herself and her baby? How far educated was her husband? How could he demand two more crores from her family?

If her in-laws were inhumanely greedy and her parental family subservient to the societal pressure, much worse is the system which failed her. Buckling under the obvious political pressure, the police handled the case in such a way that many loopholes glare like demonic eyes. But natural! Her mother-in-law boasted of a hi-fi police connection, while her father-in-law (he enjoyed wonderful mutton parties while absconding for a week) headed the local unit of a prominent party. Yet neither was shamed in to avoiding such sins! 

The Maharashtra Women's Commission sure went through the motions when the elder daughter-in-law of the family had complained, but not exactly proactively. The Department of Welfare of Women and Children is conspicuous by its total silence as far as this case goes. The legal process has wheels within wheels that turn absolutely slowly. The media would shriek this headline till the next breaking news happens! Society as such would gossip a little longer!! One felt ashamed even to watch people sniggering while talking about this horrible incident!!!

Why such indifference? How to change it? Why/whence such cruelty to begin with? Due to money power acquired through sale deeds of land with builders and  for 'development projects'? Due to political and police connections?  Truly sad is the fact that the trickle down effect of grandiose marriages adds to debts which is one of the major reasons behind farmer suicides. When are we as a society going to realise that marriage is not mere event management? This "Mulashi Pattern" is horrific beyond words, especially given the goonda-ism that did not spare a baby! Indeed our society paces one inch forward, and a metre backwards even in the third decade of the volatile twenty-first century!

Pratima@ So sad that such events prove that most women, as Andrea Dworkin would put it, are so committed to survival that they forget that such a course leads to committing (psychological, if not actual) suicide! 

T(h)rashing the Topper

 Each year, just as the monsoon arrives sooner or later, though rather rarely on June 7, the Mruga Nakshtra (that is, the "deer's head constellation", also known as the "searching star") Day, with the same consistency, though the exact dates may be irregular, get declared the results of various examinations, the different boards, the JEE, and so on.

Thus begins the annual trashing/thrashing of the toppers. Yes, it indeed is so! First and foremost, there is a huge wave of  public sympathetic  consolation of those who fail or get less marks. Wonderful philosophies such as  'marks do not mark success in life' do the rounds! Nobody bothers to ask these souls soothing in sympathy why and who stopped them from studying, especially when there are so many avenues open, be it tuition classes to the AV 4D self study material! 

As it is, the syllabi, the textbooks, and marking modes and result declarations are getting easier by the day. You can pass the Tenth Board Exams without opting for Maths, actually eternally needed in real daily lived life, for instance. Anyways, only five subjects go in to the ma(r)king of the final result! Who is to, however,  tell the sentimentalists that the syllabi are so easy, and with so many options that with a little bit of efforts, anybody and everybody can comfortably score a first class!

In the process, the brilliant students who, moreover are consistent and diligent with their studies, are treated as if they are the pariah! As if getting excellent marks is a sin! In this version of the marks 'making' scenario, the case is always that it is so easy to get marks! There is also a subtle but sure pressure on you to prove that you are not a book worm, how you studied minimally, and how you were also so very busy with very many extra-curricular activities! 

Why the guilt complex indeed? Just as there are duffers, there are toppers! Why trash them? Why thrash them by harshly dismissing success? Just as there is no need whatsoever to humiliate those who get less marks (especially if they suffer from dyslexia, et al or physical disabilities or social discrimination such as poverty), there is not any logic to belittling the achievers either, right?

Does not every field have a unique space for the brilliant, for the uniquely talented? Many play chess, for instance. The grandmaster is only one in the world! There is no sense in grudging such players in the top notch guild in the name of mediocre players who, too, have the entire internet to access for sources for/of committed practice, right? 

Yet another example is cricket. Every gully has at least three or four cricket teams. To be a Kohli or Dhoni, however, is needed talent nurtured through sincerity of purpose! Why, every bathroom singer fancies himself/herself a crooner. Look at Arijit Singh's efforts to be a success though. Why, he even changed his very voice tonality! Hard work, genuine, sincere riyaz never escaped a Lata Mangeshkar either. Why, in other words, tarnish an achiever because people who are mediocre, who, moreover, lack in consistency and sincerity, but have a gang of sympathisers?

When a society belittles achievers in subtle ways, unmistakably there is a rise of mediocrity which believes in and glorifies to skies the"jugad" or "connections" of all sorts! (No wonder, we want proof from our bravehearts!) Hardly the formula for any achievement, however small, but sincere in purpose, genuine in efforts!

Pratima@Why mock those who aim and settle for stars just because you cannot crawl, right?

Who is a better actor? Thereby hangs a tale.

 Recently I heard of Naseeruddin Shah's opinions on the actors in the Bollywood. He found Dilip Kumar to be somebody who did not really contribute to the 'art' of film making. He felt that Rajesh Khanna, who set the superstar trend, was an extremely mediocre and poor actor who lacked intellectual sharpness. In his opinion, Bacchan does not have a 'great' film to his credit. Luckily for him, Shah Rukh escaped such scathing remarks!

No, I do not think that it is the gripe of the 'sour grapes' variety. Naseeruddin is himself undoubtedly a talented and a superior actor. It indeed is true, however, that hereabouts glamour and/or groupism matter more, and not only in the cinema world.

True, good looks or mannerisms do not make an actor. None could thus measure the stature of a Balraj Sahani or an Om Puri, right? These actors may not be handsome the 'chocolate hero' way. They ARE, however the real actor material. They literally live the role so much so that the spectator forgets the individual, and remembers the character, the role the actor attempted.

Such a discussion opens up many other related questions, too. Who is better? An actor in a film or a theater artist? In my opinion, it is the theater artist, who is responding not to the camera; rather he is someone who enjoys an immediate response of the spectators. A film is not an active space that way. Spectators are responding to a series of images/photos selected/organised by the editor/director duo. The theater artist does not have such a luxury of a re-take, right?

During such discussions, I always feel like bowing down to our 'sangeet natak' artists. In those musicals, they looked nice, acted well, sang superbly, conveyed a socially relevant message through a psychologically believable/convincing theater piece. Why, many amongst them, author/actor/director/singer rolled in to one,  sensitised the spectators against the cruelties of the coloniser during the decades leading to the Indian Independence.

Yet another category I find extremely interesting is that of the child artists. How to convince an innocent that the make-believe world is both unreal yet real? May be, that is why most of them are precocious, nay, pretty pretentious. Adult mentalities in tiny bodies they indeed are!

Do you, however, want to know my favourite most actor? Have you guessed who this secret hero(ine) is? Well, in my opinion, it is the common ordinary (wo)man who plays countless roles, wears many a masks, whose lines are not scripted, and yet are lively, and who is a puppet controlled by a superior power, be it god, destiny, the societal paradigms, and what have you! This actor may not be a larger-than-life hero, but sure is the most genuine of them all, often unsung, unrewarded, not praised enough for a pure n powerful performance!

Pratima@ Can we hence conclude that a good actor is comfortable in his own skin, and wears without a grumble the shoe, no magical slipper in any way, however much it may pinch! 

Reflects on us!

 Do actors matter much in a film? What a question, you would say! In an India where there are temples devoted to actors, how can such a question even emerge? Is not that your query?

Well, I would not know. Undoubtedly, actors do give a face and a figure to the character conceived by the author, and presented by the director. Yet cinema is basically a director's medium. Do not you believe me? Take the trajectory of any one actor/actress, and see his/her performance under different directors. Sure a talented actor is given a certain leeway, and can add contours, fill in details, give absolute credibility to the character (s)he is depicting.

Unfortunately, however, in the glamorous and glitzy world of pop cinema, there is often an obsession with the larger-than-life persona of an actor/actress. Hence the craze, nay, an obsession for their often disgusting, dishy life which, in my opinion, also has a hidden strain of jealousy and anger, given the ordinary lives led by most spectators.

Sure, there is another side to this coin. Recently, given certain actors' askew statements which confessed and conveyed their actually (ill-)liberal attitude towards the image of India, they faced not only trolling but also genuine flak. Of course, there were a few sniggering snickers and smirks suggesting that such shenanigans were part of promotion of the impending film! Possible! 

A film, a director's medium basically, is, moreover, a team performance. Inclusive is this process that comprises both technology and personal traits-n-techniques. In other words, to design your favourite's look, the hard work of the make-up artist, of the hair dresser, the research of the costume designer, the cinematographer's lights, the camerman's angles and the editor's cuts are inevitable. And we have not even mentioned the dialogue writer and the music director, not to forget the singers!

 There are, to put it most succinctly, many unsung (and under-paid) heroes who are better than the (made up) hero(ine) so adored in a cinema hall or on your device these days. If we forget them in our obsession with the glitz and glamour of the silver screen, it reflects (in all possible implications of this term) on us, right?

Pratima@ All that glitters is indeed not gold!

Respect

 Respect is priceless. Sure it cannot be demanded. Yes, absolutely, it is commanded. But how? Let us explore the process a little in our blog today.

In my opinion, the real plinth on which can be built the unique monument of respect is transparency. If your words, and works, are clean, transparent, and hence belief-worthy, respect follows you like a doting puppy. 

They say, give respect and take respect. Well, I do not believe in such a business like barter. I think, respect requires something much more than convenient commerce or trading. Rather, it is born when you meet a person who genuinely makes you a better person. 

Empathy engenders respect, I think. When someone is ready to listen to you without judging you in a biased and partisan way, it is but natural that you would hold the person in high regards.

Accountability, too,  is the base of respect in my opinion. When.you are responsible regarding the consequences of your actions and words, worlds open up.

Not taking oneself too seriously matters much to me. If you have self-doubts, you are self-reflexive. You would hence think thrice before pointing fingers at others as "proudy" because you would realise that at least three fingers are pointing back at you!

A person who has a subtle and self-deprecating sense of humour may not crack pj's, but would en-light-en (in all possible senses of the term) the ambience around. No wonder, respect would follow like Mary's little lamb!

Pratima@Respect can never be bought, however rich you may consider yourself to be!

Once More Madan Mohan

 Once more! Once more! Encore! That is the only response possible when we hear the unbelievably melodious Madan Mohan songs. This master of mood music, be it the soul-searing "aaj socha to ansu bhar aaye" or the jolly-n-naughty " zaroorat hai", has to his credit songs that enrich our aural abilities.

Like a comet that dazzles the firmament was his brief career of hardly twenty five years, and the post-humous "Veer Zara". The star dust, however, continues to glow and enchant even in his centenary year, and across generations. Honestly, his intensely lyrical songs granted a soul to the silver screen.

Adored alike by the greats such as Naushad, Begum Akhtar, Lata Mangeshkar, and the ordinary Hindi film music buffs, he added to the three-minutes long film music the gravitas of a classical mehfil. Extremely difficult to sing or to play on the musical instrument, his songs, melody incarnate, are manna to ears. 

The loveliest words of great poets such as Raja Mehdi Ali Khan, Kaifi Azmi, Rajinder Kishan, Sahir Ludhiyanwi and Majruh Sultanpuri, them he encased in such sweetest sur's sung by the softest and gentlest voices of the likes of Lata Mangeshkar, Mohammed Rafi and Talat Mehmood that the charm continues to enchant to a forever encore.

Simply superb hence it is to watch-n-listen to a tribute by his adoring son, Sanjeev Kohli. Titled "Dil Dhoondta Hai",  it is indeed a wondrous audio-visual treat. I attended its Pune version for the second time yesterday. Ever anew it appeared, entitled to countless encores.

Sanjeevji deserves the utmost gratitude of every Madan Mohan fan for the priceless visuals he shares. Divided into two parts, first we get to hear a medley of hundred Madan Mohan songs that include his entire range, ghazals to Kishore Kumar yodelling most musically. 

In the most touchingly endearing second part, Sanjeevji introduces us to the man behind the musical genius who could compose a great mukhada/antara literally in a jiffy. What is most remarkable about the programme is that there is absolutely no hagiography despite the reverence. With gentle humour, Sanjeevji opens up the life of a passionate artist and a genuine and principled human being,  who never, except for the National Award for "Dastak", got in his lifetime the recognition he richly deserved.

The programme is, moreover, a throwback to an era of music making wherein reigned supreme dedication to the art. Such, such were the times wherein there was healthy competition amongst the very many talented masters of music who would even collaborate creatively. 

The programme, moreover,  describes the long journey of the fulfilment of the adolescent dream Sanjeevji cherished to grant his father's unfulfilled wish for the celebration typically associated with the film world, be it a well-known camp, a great run of the film, et al. The "Veer Zara" songs sound sweeter once we get to know such intimate inputs.

A dedicated work of research whereby Sanjeevji continues to add a few more tidbits of informative details in each edition of the DDH, especially in the 'Madan Mohan influence' segment, the programme literally makes us forget time which flies away on the wings of melody.

Sanjeevji's fabulous presentation is ably supported by the non-obtrusive but effective compering by Rajeshree Gokhale. Indeed, Mitra Foundation wins our thousand encores for a beautiful and sensitive tribute to the Madan Mohan music for which any number of once more's are too less! 

Pratima@ Wo dastan jo kabhi na bhulayi jayegi/jo phir yad ayegi eternally once more!

Pratima Agnihotri is a devoted Madan Mohan fan from Pune.

Can the AI replace teachers?

 The AI, they say, is the buzz word. For many, however, it is the cuss/curse word. Yes, you read it right. It is a cuss and/or curse word because it seems to take away any number of jobs. In fact, mention any field, and the AI seems to encroach it!

You may be an LLM or a CA. You have spent some six years to be so qualified. The AI, however, even when it is hardly three years old, already has very many tools that finish faster and better the jobs that need routine professional expertise! This, moreover, is true of most fields. Why, the AI can make music and/or literature, it seems!

In such a scenario, how about teaching and learning? Does the AI help it or hinder it? May be, it may help visualise and hence explicate better the theory/concepts. Let me give you an example. SR/simulated reality may teach you the subtle functions of the human brain, the delicate most organ that governs life itself, if you are specialising in brain studies, for example.

Sure SR/AI/4D can be tools that help facilitate learning and teaching. Can they, however, replace teachers? Well, I do NOT think so. Not at all. Let me give you examples to prove my point.  Sure, the 3D/4D technology may mimic reality. It sure can be used to enliven information. 

Such technologies can never, however, replace the teacher though. I should know, especially as a teacher of foreign languages. See, already there are any number of apps that can help you learn a language. A good teacher would ask her students to use them as supplementary material. But no app, forget the costly "(3/4/5)d" technologies, or even the AI can replace a teacher.

I should know. I had a student who was studying German with me. He was very sure, and some high-funda(!?!) colleagues had convinced him that the famous language app is much better than any book. This Ratnagiri boy admitted within a fortnight of actual language learning in the classroom that no bot, no app can teach like the teacher! He never ever bunked lectures thereafter.

Yet another of my Spanish students told me on the very first day that she has completed some six/seven levels of the app. Well, I asked her to answer the A1 level exam, the basic most, question paper. I forwarded the question paper to her, and told her that if she is comfortable answering it, we might accordingly decide. Within an hour, she called back to say that she, as I was soon to find out, a sincere and committed student, could not even manage one-tenth of the test. Why, she could not even understand most of it!

Yes, nothing can ever replace a genuine teacher who shares not merely information but a way of learning. One always meets students who remember one's lectures (either very early morning at 7.30 or the very last one)  some fifteen years ago! Sure, as a concerned teacher, you, too, accomodate the new technologies as intelligent assistants. In brief, just as a smart compounder or even a good chemist cannot replace a doctor, no technology can replace a genuine teacher!

Pratima@ Teachers who love teaching help learners to love learning.

Think Positive

 "Think positive!" That is the eternal advice each and everyone hurls at you. Often the example that would go with it is that of Shahrukh Khan who, it seems, always thinks only positively. It seems, he always tells himself, "I am the best"!

Well, surely there is some sense in this feel. After all, Rene Descartes, one of the greatest philosophers ever, too, argued, though in a totally different vein, "I think, therefore I am"! By that logic, think positive, be positive, right?

Undoubtedly, optimism, hope, positivity are any day any time much better than a defeatist mindset. At least, we are thus forced in to some action which is sure to get some reaction which is far far better than lazy inertia, ugly lethargy.

Yet constant positivity! Is it possible, forget, desirable? Constant positivity may dry the flow of serotonin, I would say! Okay, let me not be flippant. But I do dread such shallow formulae. 

Rather, I would tell myself the goal, next think of my lacunae, then chalk out a rough action plan that has all sorts of shock absorbers, and then take the first baby step which slowly but surely leads to strides, I believe. May be, I  do not believe in self-aggrandising.

Rather I would think sensible! Sure, out there, there are any number of 'well-wishers' with draggers drawn to stab you every which way possible. In such a scenario, why add Enemy Number One? Why be one's own  grave-digger with excessive bravado? 

Instead, think through, think thorough, and act well. No, this is not defeatism. This is both self-preservation and self-amelioration. Honest self-talk, bettering the self in the process is, in my opinion, much better than a competitive superiority complex which mostly hides a complex of inferiorities! By thinking sensible, rather than 'thinking positive', I can be better than my own earlier worst or best or both, right? What say?

Pratima@ No, this is not a worldly weary clever practicality. Always dreaming big may lead to nightmares, I suppose. Instead a good REM sleep is much healthier!

Choice defines Character.

 Choice does define one's personality, right? What we choose shows up who/what we truly are. Let us look at a few concrete examples. Early in the morning, we may choose to drink hot water or tea or coffee, with or without sugar. Our choice immediately shows us up, lets know if we are a freakily health conscious person! 

The colour we love tells a story  about who we are. Blue, for instance, may indicate a brilliant creative personality ripe/rife with imagination and intuition, and with a philosophical bent of mind. Depression, however, is not very far away from such horizons!

If you like/prefer a noisy party to a quiet evening full of music and literature with your doggie at your side, you surely will not be the shallow, showy type, right? For a sojourn, what do you choose? The seaside? The snow capped mountain peaks? See, your choice would reveal your personality!

Classical music or the rap? Katthak or the folk? Bharat Natyam or the Bollywood 'zatkas'? Choose and show who you truly are! Why, what you wear tells a lot about you. The sober, traditional clothes would rarely conceal a jazzy, zany personality underneath. 

Choices have consequences, too. Do not you believe me? Well, the educational stream you choose sure does impact your life(-n-its)style, right? So, mistakenly though, people willy nilly choose science and/or commerce, without knowing the magic that Arts is.

In other words, choices often are assumptions, codified in to a paradigm over centuries, right? Why, our very language is such a codified choice. The same loving, kind, intelligent animal is "dog" in English, "chien" in French, "perrito" in Spanish and "Hund" in German. Our Marathi has a special childrenese "bhu bhu", too.

I would hence rather choose to assert that choices are less a right/wrong binary, and more a kline, may be. See, in a multi-disciplinary way, I may love literature, fine arts as well as sciences and management, right? I may love nature more, but society not less, right?

Involved herein would be the issue of excessive relativism which inevitably leads to infinite individualism which can be the breeding ground of anarchy! See how choices craft destinies not only of individuals, but of societies, and nations, too! Hence better always to choose wisely and with a foresight. Haste leads to waste, right?

Pratima@ A choice can be like the railway track at a juncture/junction, or the "road not taken" as Frost would say. Choose a path and choose an itinerary! Sure we can travel the road once over yet again. Hardly matters if the destination is the dream! 

Out of battle

 Now that safely we seem to be "out of battle" which we fought and won quite decisively, no discouragement at all in talking about poetry that talks of the pity of war. Undoubtedly, a soldier is a braveheart. Behind that armour though is a man who is someone's somebody, right?  He is a son, a brother, a friend, a husband, a father! Indeed we should be indebted to an entire family who entrusts their (often the sole breadwinner) soul to protect (one-n-) all!

 English literature has a wealth of such sensitive poems that shore up the sheer barbarity of war which destroys  the human(e) bonds. The World War I poetry, known as the 'shell-shocked' poetry, the World War II poetry, the poems of the inter-war years which actually saw the dismally disenchanting and hence truly traumatic Spanish Civil War (because it showed how hollow the so-called liberal, left rhetoric was), these genres of poems are truly moving. So are the essays (especially by George Orwell, the conscience of an era, actually of all times) and novels. Poems, however, crystallise the feel the best. So let us talk of poems.

Wilfred Owen's "Strange Meeting" (the title of our blog comes from that poem) , for example, shows the vacuity of war as the poem is a dramatic monologue wherein two dead soldiers meet in hell to underscore "truths that lie too deep for taint".

I shall discuss "Vergissmeinnicht" some other time. Right now, let me mention "Ultima Ratio Regum".  It talks of a civilian casualty, a man "too young and too silly" who had hardly any worth "in terms of employment, hotel ledgers, news files" as he was too much a commoner to be worthy of any special notice. 

In almost prosaic lines sipped in scathing sarcasm and satire, Stephen Spender concludes his searing poem. He questions "O World, O death". He asserts,"One bullet in ten thousand kills a man./Ask. Was so much expenditure justified/On the death of one so young and so silly".

Out of battle emerges nothing. All is wasted, best of resources, and worst of all, lives  valuable to the near and dear ones, but due to the war rendered valueless!

Pratima@True, a century later, realities have changed drastically, nay, critically.  Geopolitical scenarios are brutal. Terrorism constantly rears up its ugly hood. Yet the sophisticated weaponry, too, kills both, the innocent civilians and the army (wo)men! What, and where, is the solution to the barbarity that imposes a war on us??? Which alternatives to brutal battles?

Born Brave!

 Certain scenes cannot just be wiped out of the lore that floats nebulously around  certain individuals. Think of Bhagat Singh, and who can ever forget a young martyr requesting the jailor, who came to fetch him to the ugly gallows, with "Just a few minutes more. I am about to complete reading this book. The last page and the last few lines, please." The brilliant bibliophile, who was both a committed activist and a revolutionary thinker, thus comes alive in the most cynical mind.

Think of Savarkar and can you ever forget the Marseille adventure, however much may the doubting Thomases debate the length, the breadth, the depth of the sea water near the pier? It is a totally separate story altogether that these worthies, they themselves will not be able to dive into a pool five feet deep!

Yes, the other major events matter much in the lives of these extra-ordinary individuals. And, oh, yes, there happen to be very many. Yet an iconic moment defines the magic that such lives are.

Today is the birth centenary of Sambhaji Maharaj. He, too, is one such illuminati who lived a luminous life. Which, in your opinion, is the most magical moment in his life ? True, tough to decide indeed! Many, who have known him due to the film "Chava", would say that his tragic death is etched forever in every mind.

Undoubtedly! In my opinion, however, it is his stay as a political hostage at the great ole age of nine! Till that moment, may be, he never knew a moment away from the warm togetherness with Jijabai, his grandmother. Suddenly, for political convenience that suits the Moghul demand for the Purandar Treaty, this kid has to stay as the human alibi in the enemy camp, surrounded by weapons of every kind, physical and psychological!

He survives that impossible feat! Like a prince! Absolutely royally! Learns a trick or two from the princes around, teaches them a strategy or two. Mirza Raje Jai Singh actually grows fond of the lad.

In my opinion, this stay as a young boy in the enemy camp truly made him. Thus he could survive the terrible days incognito in the return journey from Agra back to Fort Raigad, when he had often to be all alone amongst total strangers.

Sure, the gory end he had to suffer is tragic beyond words. Yet he was much experienced then, was a grown-up man who had seen many up's and down's, a few due to his own mistaken judgements. The childhood imprisonment, however benevolent apparently, thrown by the destiny at him and his father, it he braved truly like a king. Born Brave indeed!

Pratima@ Bravery is the audacity not to be hindered by failures, and to continue to walk with freedom, strength and hope in the face of total annihilation, complete disasters! 

Being Narsimha

 No, no, please let not the title of our blog delude you. No, I am not referring to an astute prime minister of ours who was well-versed in many languages and was, with Manmohan Singh, partially responsible for the LPG.

Rather, I am thinking of the Narsimha myth  (it was Narsimha Jayanti yesterday) and how it can be reinterpreted to suit the current contexts. You will have to forgive me the obvious partiality. That is okay though. In such contexts, I AM unashamedly partisan.

My submission is that the moment India is ill-treated the worst way possible like Bhakt Prahlada was, the hidden Narsimha in our army's genes rises anew, and slays the enemy while it is neither day nor night, in a space that is neither merely the air nor just the land, in a manner that is both professional and precise. 

Yes, Pakistan, which was obviously showing its terror connections during the last rites of those vanquished during the first strike @Operation Sindoor, has been taught the perfect lesson, like the cruel Hirnyakashypu who considered himself invincible, who mocked the benefactor for his boon. That asinine arrogance was punished in a place neither inside nor outside their territory, at a time neither merely day nor just night.

Time alone would tell if our very own Hirnyakashypu has learnt the proper lessons adequately.  The rumour is that the forever nuke threat is nullified, too. Hope our army would never ever again have to assume the fierce Narsimha avatar. 'Live and let live' is the advice the Hirnyakashypu's of the contemporary world must follow!

Pratima@ Bother and be bothered, right, left and center, is the current mantra, right?

Peace

 Talking of peace right now is quite an oxymoron, right? Our curious neighbour, quite some frenemy (enemy to us, friend to powers that be), would not allow that fragile feeling to flourish. Yes, it is often said that we should not allow others to disturb our inner peace. With a rogue neighbour who forever growls with the atomic threat, peace, not only inner, but outer, too, is sure to be disturbed. 

Why, the border is bursting with the cacophony of  weapons. For no fault of us, that is, no provocation on our side to begin with, we are dragged in to this blistering blare that merely means the terror-ible truth!

Hence even when it is the Buddha (whose every image is peace incarnate) Purnima today, fractured is peace. In my opinion, the problem with Pakistan as a nation is a piece of mindset whereby such entities always try to wipe out others so as to appear better, bigger, et al. 

However, the best way to be is to keep on (re)drawing one's line in such a way that it is so much longer, and you continue streching it longer still, however much others may try to wipe it clean. It is thus that peace would be a creative companion, forever following you!

Pratima@ Peace is costly, says an African proverb. But it IS worth the expense.

 

THE Day!

 It is THAT day of the year yet again. We should know. Our blog began on that day! Yes, it is the Mothers' Day today. Our blog began as a tribute to Aai on the very first Mothers' Day after her sad demise, and it has been a joy, a sense of achievement, a degree of fulfilment contributing to it continuously, without fail, every day!

Aai deserves this memoriam. Like Papa, she, too, loved writing. Her poems have been published. Her submissions for the academic courses on Geeta, Sant Dnyaneshwar, Sant Tukaram were appreciated. She was a rank-holder in the final examination of each of these courses. Her students of the course on Sant Ramdas appreciated her inputs. I suppose, hence, the best tribute to her would be a daily write-up, right?

Parents continue to 'manage' us forever. Why, if 'father' is the hard disk of our existence, 'mother' is the software, right? Our 'programmes' run excellently and efficiently because of that underlying system, right? That debt indeed is beyond any re-paying!

As for Aai, we get in to this world at all because of her unbelievably painful labour. Literally. A generation ago, it never used to be the convenient caeserean section. Literally she would be re-born so that we can be born! Honestly, whatever we may achieve, attain, accomplish, is because of that primal sacrifice of hers. Never ever forget her however much the worldly lures ensnare you! Long live the Mothers' Day! Long live Aai's memory!

Pratima@Imagine the miseries, the worries, the tensions of the mothers of the soldiers fighting at the border, now that Pakistan has violated the ceasefire, and the battle has renewed bitterly!

THE End!

 True, all of us are most eagerly waiting for it. But, no, the title of our blog today does not refer to the much-awaited end of the war before rogue states turn it in to a horrible tragedy that words would find difficult to describe.

Well, I am talking today of a still much worse 'dis-ease'. Okay, let me explain. Have you heard of Misha Agarwal? Twenty-four years old. An influencer on the Insta. No, I have not read her posts 'coz I am not on the Insta. Well, those of you who are on to all these social media would say that those sites are full of many such power(on the mind of others)-mongers, right?

That is the tragedy precisely. Apparently, this young lady was popular on the social media. As she had to share that invisible, and yet most visible, space with many others of her ilk, her popularity, the number of her followers, started dwindling. She took the downsizing so much to heart that she committed suicide! 

An influencer has such a fragile, brittle mindscape! How could such an identity be inspirational? A new thread would have been possible. Re-inventing her site/self would have been energising. Why is it that the so-called young these days are so fragile psychologically? Is it because of the media that gives an impossible and highly competitive model to live by? Why do not these lost souls think of their own parents, the immediate family?

 Why are they so thought-less and impulsive? Why the negativity when they are quite better off, when they do not have to struggle for the bare minimum necessities, nor do they have to fight in a terribly difficult war as a soldier!?! It is downright self-indulgence, to constantly carp about one's own ego (needs)! Anyways, it is this brittleness, rooted in the lack of communication lost to the surreal world of social media, that is the real end! Oh, yes, the AI with its super(smart) agents is lurking just near the corner!

Pratima@De-learning old ways, re-learning new skills, thereby re-inventing oneself time and again would be the only path to be followed in times to come. We, the ordinary people, too, would now need at least ten avataars in a lifetime!

A prayer!

 ॐ त्र्यम्बकं यजामहे

सुगन्धिं पुष्टिवर्धनम् ।

उर्वारुकमिव बन्धनान्

मृत्योर्मुक्षीय मामृतात् ॥

 A heart felt prayer for our bravehearts!

Once I was travelling to Nagpur as I was to present a research paper there in a national level seminar. The entire bogey was full of young soldiers going to the border for their first ever assignment. They all somehow understood that I felt deeply for them even when our mother tongues did not match. They were all from various Southern states. I got off at Nagpur. As the train chugged on, a humble salute to them is all I could think of! Oh, yes, that evening a girl, who was a volunteer at the seminar, sang "eh, mere watan ke logon" most beautifully. The sur's still linger in my ears.

Pratima@Being a soldier is tough! Read Keith Douglas' "Vergissmeinnicht"! May be, sooner or later, I might write a blog appreciating that touching poem.

Amar Sonar Tagore!

 Bengal, post the heinous crime in August 2024, some may find it difficult to believe it, was once upon a time the intellectual hub and conscience of the rest of India. Exactly like Maharashtra. Great thinkers, revolutionaries, artists, mention the best of the human spirit, and the erstwhile Bengal, like Maharashtra, would come up with very many supremely brilliant personages.

 Two tower over all the rest though. Yes, I am referring to Swami Vivekananda and Rabindranath Tagore. They indeed are the best of Bengal. Rabindranath, especially, is the perfect example of the concept called the Renaissance Man. His is the most appreciable contribution to countless fields of human endeavour. 

Truly an intellectual giant he was. As it is his birth anniversary today, this tribute to him. What exactly is the day incidentally? May 7 or 8 or 9? Hardly matters though as he was/is of all times. His mystical-quasi-religious/philosophical poems from the Nobel Prize winning "Geetanjali" are the first signpost for most IWE (Indian Writing in English) students. 

Personally, I like him more as a short story writer and as a novelist. Of course, a very touching memory for me is that for an article on him in "Kirloskar", I had translated a poem of his which presented death as the bridegroom whom the soul ardently awaits. Aai loved that poem, despite me translation. No wonder! Tagore WAS a master of meanings and melodies. Hence the title  of our blog, which is a take-off on the Bangla Desh anthem that he composed!

Pratima@ Want some proof of Tagore's greatness? Watch "Teen Kanya" , a brilliant film, based on Tagore's short stories, and directed by another great Bengali, Satyajit Ray.

Peace

 Peace is like the piece of broken mirror with cracked reflections. It is piecemeal, never whole. Whether it be the peace of mind or that rarer still inter-, why, even intra-, national peace, it is a commodity much desired, but rarely available in any market or in any storehouse.

Let us begin with the peace of mind. This individual entity depends on the 'mind' of the concerned person. In the opinion of Acharya Prashant, one of the "in" guru's, mind is like a monkey. It never sits still, jumps from branch to branch, dangles upside down, right? Given such constant and often purposeless flurry of activities, how can there be quiet, forget peace? Bringing mind under control is hence Acharya Prashant's panacea for peace.

That is okay at the individual level. How about the elusive peace at the intra- or inter-national level? Remember the huge furore over the introduction of Hindi at the primary school level? If the discussions then are any proof, the battle of wits (really!?!) was mostly an ego war, more flexing of political muscle at the regional level than the academic health of either the kids or the nation.

Often, in India, issues turn in to warfare because " opposition for the heck/sake of opposition" is the one point agenda of many. Such people call others the "andh bhakt", while conveniently forgetting that they themselves are blind, witless, unthinking followers of some other leader or ideology!!!

At the intra-national level, hence, may be, self-reflexivity could be the solution!?! Actually, self-reflexivity is a great virtue at the individual level, too. As it is most often marked by absence there, how to expect it at the group level? No wonder, issues turn into gangrene wounds!

Much worse is the scenario at the inter-national level. We should know, right? Not only right now but since 1947! In other words, hereabouts, too, there is a version of the Gaza strip, a wound which some unique identities are very fond of constantly prying open. Keeping it forever bleeding is their eternal one point agenda. 

Peace is absolutely piecemeal in such contexts, which are actually perceptions at wars, that are interest-driven narratives clashing without a care for the consequences. Wars hence continue for years on end! 

Here is fingers crossed, while praying fervently, that the current war like situation does not long linger! 

Pratima@ Peace seems to be like the low lying fruit that recedes when you want to grab /pluck it. It is the horizon which seems so accessible yet eternally recedes farther in to distance, especially when you chase it!

What is there in a quote?

 Yes, the title of our blog today is a take off on the famous Shakespeare quote. The lovelorn Juliet, when she gets to know that her Capulet heart is throbbing for the sworn enemy clan Montague's heir, she responds with the passionate "What is in a name?"

I would like to change that expression a little, given the total annihilation of the terrorist camps by the Indian army. Someone in the army and in power corridors is indeed sensitive. Remember, in the Pahalgam attack, a young bride, a newly married wife, became within a week a widow due to a terrorist's bullet. She and the other women, whose husbands were killed right in front of their and their children's eyes, were told to "go, tell your Modi", are avenged early this morning.

The operation is called "Operation Sindoor". In India, "Sindoor" has a significance. Often it is so quoted in famous filmy dialogues, be it from "Amar Prem" or "Om Shanti Om". Somebody in the army or the power echelons remembered these quotes, most importantly, their significance, and hence the title to the anti terrorist operation. Highly evocative emotionally is the accompanying visual.

Such a creative use of a quote is a brilliant example of how to use a logo, a quote, a symbol, a tag line without being accused of violating the IPR. Surely, right now, nobody would be in the mood to evoke the Intellectual Property Right, very famous due to the turmeric and Basmati cases, and getting extremely complicated in the AI era, though there is no knowing about people who always try to wipe out others' line, or sindoor. Like the terrorists!

Pratima@ As Colonel Sophia Quereshi and Wing Commander Vyomika Singh were chosen to brief the country about the counter-attack, no strident feminism in a militantly shallow and "modern" mode could read any "traditional" negativity, et al, in the title of the operation, right?

Beyond the cost-n-benefit analysis

 In our post-globalisation world, where tariff is the inter-national threat, can there be anything that costs nothing but benefits in a big way? Yes, there IS something which enjoys such a cost-n-benefit analysis! No, no warehouse can store it to sell it during the festivals when it is most advantageous. No, there are not any local or regional or national taxes levied at it to disturb the c-n-b analysis which no market 'guru' can explicate!

Why, and how, so? Well, the product does have such a unique profile. This commodity cannot be traded against any convenient pricing. Nor can it be assigned any price tag, though its value is beyond measure. Such is its brand that it is forever credited, and can never be debited! 

Totally confused is your commerce oriented mindset, right? Any guesses about what possibly this product could be? No, it does not grow in any field, though it can be abundantly reaped. Yes, it is a co-operative item. No, no locker can close it up, but it is, believe me, most bankable.

Yes, this most human(e) product is laughter. It indeed costs nothing. Its benefits are countless though. A unique brand it makes you as a human being. It is a truly co-operative  give-n-take between at least two individuals unfettered by class, region, race, gender, et al. It reduces stress, and a happy mind leading to perfect health is the incremental interest it insures/ensures. Yes, laughter balances us so that there is absolutely no loss!

So smile, laugh, guffaw till your sides split whether the humour is word-based or situation-oriented or rooted in a personal quirk. Smile n stay happy n healthy is the message of the World Laughter Day!

Pratima@The World Laughter Day is celebrated  on every May 4. Incidentally, an Indian 'family doctor' initiated it. Dr. Madan Kataria developed this day with its unique theme through the laughter clubs that help people to laugh and (let) live longer!

Celebrating what cannot be cured

 Have you heard the song "chodo, chodo meri bainya saware"? It is from a 1960 movie, much forgotten by now. Penned by Shailendra, it is set to music by S.D. Burman. Whose, do you think, is that velvety voice? Lata Mageshkar's? Not really! That soft, gentle voice with the perfect pronunciation and excellent emoting is by Suman Kalyanpur.

The voice quality, the sound texture of Suman Kalyanpur are uncannily similar to Lata Mangeshkar's. Many  late 1950's to 1960's songs by Sumanji typically get assigned to Latadi. Such is the uncanny similarity between the two voices. Why, Asha Bhonsale's unique voice is distinctly different!

Did the similarity destroy Sumanji's career? In a way, yes! Obviously she would get fewer opportunities. By definition. Most music directors would settle for Latadi who was at the peak of her singing best.

There is another way to look at the dilemma though. Making the most of what you get. I think this positivity is what Sumanji chose. Each individual song she sang is the perfect most. Her duets with Rafi are simply great.

 In other words, this is the way one celebrates what cannot be cured. Often life deals dastardly. Instead of crying over the chances snatched away by crude crooks consciously, one so defi(n)es destiny by giving the bestest to every opportunity that none can overlook one's own unique distinctive quality that just has to stand out. Why cry that the sun set? Instead, celebrate the gentle moon and the dazzling stars that can light up the darkest night of the soul! 

Pratima@ "Zindagi imtihaan leti hai." Yes, that is a famous song by Sumanji. Life tests/treats one hard, often most unfairly. Better to pass the tough test/exam with flying colours because, always to remember, many a gems of the purest rays serene never ever got the chance to shine. Always better to concentrate on the givens which many, may be, equally talented, were denied, right?

Know my reindeer!

 Ever heard of Sami? 'Ah, yes, you are referring to the famous South Indian film, right?' Is that your answer? Well, i do love studying films as the blog yesterday would prove beyond doubt. Yet sorry to disillusion you. Sami has nothing to do with "Pushpa". Not that I like films less, it is just that I love culture more.

No, no need to worry about the source of this take off on a world famous quote. Instead, let us concentrate on Sami, okay? Well, Sami is a village and its culture. Where on earth  is it? It is in northern Europe, northern Sweden, to be precise. 

It is a small hamlet with very few families. It has a unique identity of its own though, and Evelina, a young girl there, is determined to preserve it and to present it to the whole world. In their culture, right when he/she is born, every kid gets a reindeer. It is the sacred duty of  every individual to take care of this unique gift, who would be like the cow or the yak for the other civilizations, that is, the very lifeline in that faraway place where ice reigns supreme. 

Evelina feels that the rest of the world must know such unique features of her culture. She is trying her level best to spread the good word around. Hence the title of our blog which is a take-off on Peter Selley's famous song, "love me, love my dog" 

Actually, this opening phrase cum refrain of the song is itself a great English maxim "love me, love my dog" which celebrates total acceptance of a person, without  demurring about anything that may appear like an oddity to you.

Evelina wants the world to adopt such an attitude regarding her native culture. Without any tool kit or any brattish arrogance supported by the powers that be in the fashion of a Greta Thurnberg, this young girl is a quiet but determined activist trying to preserve an identity which might otherwise be extinct! Long live Evelina's of the world!

Pratima@"Preservation of one's culture," says Cesar Chavez, "does not require disrespect to or the disregard of the other "

Father Figure of Films

 The Indian phillum spectator is a unique entity full of admiration that borders on devotion. We have hence temples built wherein the presiding deity is an actor! Look at the craze for "Thalaiva" Rajnikanth, for instance. "Mind it", this is not a South Indian trait. The North is no better either. Bhaijan ki Eid released film is an obsession for many. Actors with simply horrid mannerisms are superstars hereabouts!

Such crazy fans, to slightly misquote that famous Amitabh dialogue,  unho ne "nam bhi nahi suna hoga" of the "bap" of all these tinsel stars, who in a way released their careers. Yes, we are talking of the father figure of Indian films, Dadasaheb Phalke.

He is indeed a person who makes Maharashtra proud. Wednesday (April 30) was his hundred and fifty-fifth birth anniversary. Hardly anyone, who wait for hours on the "budday" of their favourite phillum star, would have known him, forget commemorate his memory.

His contribution is tremendous. Single handedly he initiated the film industry in India in an era when the raw stock itself  was quite rare. Most importantly, this one man army excelled at every possible and centrally important department of that composite art called film making. He was a producer, director, script writer, cinematographer, art director, editor, costume designer, make up man, areas which make a film genuinely memorable.

In the early decades of the twentieth century, this  hugely talented man experimented with every creative facet of film making to make a phenomenal number of films, ninety-five feature films and twenty six short films. This alumnus of the J.J. School of Arts, Mumbai and the M.S. University, Baroda  made the first animated film in India! Unlike most of his feature films which were mythologicals, this animated film helped a minor non-issue come alive as it dealt with the 'fun way of match boxes' !

If the biopic "Harischandrachi Factory" is any proof, this genius with a very pleasant personality full of genuine bonhomie included his better half, his wife, as a partner in the creative process in those days! No wonder, the greatest lifetime achievement award in the film world in India is named after him. While WAVES is making waves in the Jio Centre in Bombay, as the Bollywood would call Mumbai, huge respects to-n-for the illustrious father figure of films in India!

Pratima@Some people are not only born great, their achievements make them greater still as they thrust greatness on areas unknown till then. Shakespeare would love this take on his great quote, I believe most humbly. 

Who is afraid of grammar?!?

 When you have to teach a language, the current cant is communication matters. Undoubtedly it does because every language is basically a means, a mode of conveying to each other, to the larger community concepts, ideas, feelings, sensibilities, and so on.

Can we, however, convey a thought, for example, chaotically? Tough proposition, right? Unless there is a pattern to our conveying, there would be utter confusion, right? Do not you believe me? Okay, watch a crazy video doing rounds of the wapp groups. Absolutely funny it is. 

A young lady is asked if women should be allowed to pray at Shikhar Shinganapur. In this video entitled "THE video which led to making Hindi compulsory from Standard I", the answer is such a gobbledy-gook of Marathi imposed on Hindi hilariously that the message is absolutely goofy.

Actually, the much hated grammar is nothing but mere pattern(s). Such structure is ubiquitous, moreover. Whichever skill or subject you may study, we have to study the underlying pattern. Be it painting, dance, music, mathematics, science, we cannot excel at it unless we acquire a thorough grounding in its base patterns.

Why, animal communication has its own innate grammar! Cows call their calves in different moo's as per the mood.  Bees dance differently as per the message. Do not birds have different calls as per the message? 

Why then hate grammar so much? Sure it should be taught creatively. Undoubtedly, any abstract design is always tough to grasp. Do not most people avoid philosophy, logic, an abstract M.F. Hussain, any theory for that matter? Civil engineers, however, would agree that a robust building requires a perfect plinth.

Grammar is that base upon which the building of language communication can be structured. Why hate grammar? If i want to excel in chess, I must inevitably learn the basic moves of each pawn. In brief, we must care for grammar if we want to communicate at all. Who is afraid of grammar indeed?

I always tell my students that to be a good cricketeer who can hit the Dhoni special helicopter shot, my bat must be raised over and above my head. In hockey, however, it would be a foul if my hockey stick gets raised above the knee! So why hate/avoid the pattern, the basic rules in any language, that is, grammar? Instead, let us learn it to convey and understand meanings better!

Pratima@I suppose, post the computers and the software wave, most all have got so used to ready made programmes re-used ad infinitum that human brains seem to avoid cracking any patterns. 

Well, all along, using the huge humongous data provided to it, the AI is already seeking the underlying patterns, the grammar of human thinking itself. No wonder, it is getting perceived as a threat!

Time passes: Some 'Reflections'

 One never steps in the same river twice, said Heraclitus. Indeed! In between the first and the next step, much water flows down the bridge. We change, contexts continually shift. Like this ever fluid (of course, in all senses of this term) river is time. It flies. At all sorts of speeds, some times like the snail, at the slowest pace; at times, with a supersonic sprint. Truly a long distance runner, in its wake, everything changes!

Look at May 1, for instance. It continues to be called the International Labour Day. But the spirit is missing, unlike that 1886 Second International when began the march for the 'eight hours a day' demand. In our days when the Murti's of the I/T world demand  a seventy hour week, while the Gen Z, et al, wanna retire in the mid-thirties, the concept of labour itself has gotten complicated beyond recognition, what with the AI looming large on the horizon.

The thin line between the white collar and  the blue collar workers seems to have blurred now as technology has invaded every field, be it farming or the shop floor. Why, every corner, be it at home or the office or the road side, is now cleaned and dusted with a vaccum cleaner, most often robotic! Why, now, there are robotic soldiers; there is online multi media teaching; even birth is often, not only caesarean, but also via the IVF mode! In the process, the very definition of labour has transmogrified!

Look at our very own Maharashtra, born on May 1. Sixty-five years later, it is vastly different from the original version. It has literally undergone a sea change, what with the criss-crossing sea bridges, right? The famous Marathi spirit, too, has developed interesting as well as intriguing contours.

Yet celebrating the May Day is a ritual that has the same festive feel, like the spring celebrations in Europe. Somehow, this customary salute, be it to the clenched fist logo or to the ochre Marathi pennant, seems to be the placenta to the erstwhile idealism and fervour, never dead, ever reborn in newer versions!

Pratima@ Yes, time does pass. But is not  yesterday today's memory, and tomorrow today's dream, as Khalil Gibran put it most poetically!