Harassment

 In this Self Obsessed World, made much worse by the Corona corrosion, most all meanies are out to deceive others in multiple ways. What such small souls do not realise is the fact that they thus lose on credibility, and forever.

 Actually, it is credibility alone that can stand a human being in good stead. If you deceive a person knowingly, the person would regret his/her mistake of believing you, could get that work completed by someone else. It is you who has added to your own bad "karma", as it is known, which is sure to haunt you in myriad ways. So why harass in any way?

Actually, Aai-Papa brought up all the three of us in a very ethical, honest, ideal way. There is no way hence that we would ill-treat or harass anyone in any way.

But, now-a-days, I feel that life is not so straight in any sense of this term. In the current scenario, perverts of all types, some of them power crazy perverts, some of them money crazy and hence pervert, some of them with a pervert mentality and/or sexuality are trying their level best to harass a Person Superior to such mean creatures in every which way. 

In a world of wicked perverts, it is wrong to be harassed. It gives a kinky kick to such dominating dastards. No need to confront them unless and until you have solid proof that cannot be prevaricated by buffoons of all varieties.

Anyways, for harassment to be successful, just as a sadist (whatever might be one of his kinks described above) is required, equally necessary is a masochist. The best way to face harassment is to establish efficiently but quietly that you refuse to play the masochist game.

Instead,I believe, in such a victim position imposed on one, one should directly or subtly let everyone in one's safety net know everything that is happening to one. All along, one must continue with all the aspects of one's creative, intellectual work that would prove all the canards of the sadists as lies. 

The best way to answer a fool is to ignore such weak wicked wonks, and all along continue to make your line so, so much longer and deeply etched that the sadistic fools would never ever be to wipe it out either as an individual or as mafiosi gangsters who may parade to be gentleman!Gentleman, phew, poor wor(l)d!

pratima@to thine own self, be true and forever

The Aai Feel:Mother's Day Today.

 It is Krishnashtami today. Raju sent a lovely bhajan. Remembered Sanju's flute that Aai was proud of, and felt happy about. Her niece sent a flute rendition.

Well, as for me, I like this day for two reasons. First and foremost, it is also the birth anniversary of Sant Dnyaneshwara, my favourite most saint. He had the heart of a mother. No wonder, at the tender age of twenty one, he was known as the jagat mauli, the Aai of the whole universe. 

He was the bestest of the best, was treated worse than the worst, and yet radically changed a very mindset. Such a motherly heart he had that he could connect sensitively and tenderly to the soul of a he buffalo, and could make it recite the ved richas. Some power of the motherly feel the miracle is!

As for Lord Shri Krishna, his story reflects a lovely paradigm of motherhood, too. He is born as Devaki's Son, but is most lovingly and selflessly brought up by Yashoda. On the One hand, this myth proves that motherhood is a feel, not a biological fact. On the other hand, he has a kind, gentle feel for the whole universe. He can orphic-ally connect to the flora and fauna. Mountains can hear his gentle call, and move so as to rest on his tender finger. As a much loved child by both sets of parents and the entire Gokul, he has so much kindness, tenderness, gentleness overflowing that he can, like a mother, understand the problems of his best friends, be it Sudama or Arjuna. For Draupadi, he has a tender friendliness that is most motherly, too. Even for Radha, it is hardly a sexual feel, whatever Bollywood may make of it. Like a mother, he can be fond, and yet strict; gentle and yet guiding.

In brief, in my opinion, it is the Indian Mother's Day today, on Krishnashtami! So I dedicate this blog to Aai, and Papa who had a very motherly heart.

Pratima@Aai's patient listen-in's to many of my such reinterpretations of the traditional tales

Fragrance

 Aai loved the chapha or champak flower a lot. In our garden, we have four different varieties of this divine flower. She liked all, the pale yellow one with almost like a bud shape, the bulbous variety, the Green champak and the typical golden yellow variety.

Aai liked all of them, but she adored the Golden yellow and the truly rare Green variety. Champak is a Sanskrit word adopted by English. Sure, there is a scientific taxonomic term: 'magnolia/michelia champaka'.   I like the dialectal variants of the name much more. Champak is known as the 'yellow jade orchid tree' and the 'joy perfume tree'. I think, I like both these variations of the name, especially because they encapsulate why Aai loved the flower.

The Golden champak has a rich, luscious yellow colour with a faint ochre like-golden shade to it. The shape is unique, too. Aai liked the colour. Yellow anyways was her favourite colour. She loved its fragrance.  I had made her a garland of it when she returned from the Chardham Yatra. The whole day I was busy with my research and my journalism related activities. I had to hence surreptitiously make it on the train. The whole compartment was afresh with the fragrance. 

Yet again had I made it for her when she turned seventy five. There were exactly seventy five golden yellow champak flowers in that garland.Her grandsons, whom she loved above all,  made her wear it on the "Holi" Day, her tithi-wise birthday.The "Holi" that year thus became truly holy.

As she loved the flower, I always bought it, however off season it may be. The room , her pillow near which I used to keep the flower, would have the fragrance lingering on and on. Like her Love. Often, I used to get the champak veni, woven the traditional way, because she loved the flower. It used to rest at the feet of the Dnyaneshwar idol she truly liked because Raju gifted it to her when she topped the merit list of the Dnyaneshwari  course final examination.

She loved the Green variety hugely. She loved it because because this absolutely unique tree was planted by Papa. Incidentally, it is known as the"Pooja flower", and Aai used to be hugely happy when it could be part of her daily prayer. Known as "Balaji flower", named as it is after "Lord Venkyatesha, our family deity, a daily pooja with that flower from late January through June-July was special for her.

This particular variety, absolutely green, is difficult to see/locate easily, but once it blooms, it fills your very being with its special, unique fragrance. Exactly like the love of parents! Hence as a consolation token to my colleague who lost her mother to corona, I gave a few seeds of this variety, and they have started sprouting in her garden. Exactly like the ever blooming love of parents!

Pratima @if fragrance be the feel of love, bloom on!

P(l)ain echoes

 Yet again a truly brief  write-up. Well, the second jab of the vaccine needs nursing still. I feel drowsy yet, though the mild fever is gone, and the terrible body ache seems to subside earlier this time. Even then I am not exactly my own self. So this short version.

Well, have you realised that the moment we are in the throes of any deep feeling, we remember 'mother' the most. At least in Marathi, the linguistic echo of any pain, grief, disappointment, hurt of any type, physical or psychological, any excitement seems to be an intense call to "Aai", right?

Remember how, during his heydays, Sachin Tendulkar had popularised a certain Marathi expression as a signature tune of his feelings? Some proof that should be of my point of view. In a way, we also use " bap re" to show of our deep feel of any kind.

Wonderful, is not it, how Marathi uses the closest and the absolutely irreplaceable relationships to express any and every intense feel that echoes in the chambers of our heart, soul and head. Losing parents is indeed missing wor(l)ds! Forever!

Pratima@ p(l)ain echoes!

A mother is born

 Let us explore a unique, touching and yet amusing paradox today. When is a mother born? What a question to ask, you would say, right? A mother is born obviously on her birthday! For sure! Yet I have a different take and a delightful answer to this question.

A mother is born when a child is born, I think. Oh, no, I am not leading you back to that eternal egg-hen dilemma in a new garb. What I mean to say is that surely when the first child is born, actually when every child is born, a mother is born, too.

Physically indeed it is as good as her rebirth, especially if it is a normal, non-Caeseran birth. Beyond that though, with a child's birth begins a brand new phase of her life, of  her self, too. She has to constantly re-invent herself, begin anew, all over yet again, every thread of her identity. For her, too, the very feel is a re-newing, a re-making, a re-building of herself. Now that I have broached this topic, what do you feel about it? Agree with me? And, oh, yes, I am not being flippant. Not at all. I will explore the theme in depth yet again. 

Right now a "good night" because today I stand certified as a totally vaccinated citizen! I need to nurse that new avataar of mine at least tonight or may be throughout this weekend, right? Hence a quick "au revoir" right now.

Pratima@  a Baby born, a mother (re)born

The Mother Feel

 Today it is Aai's fifth mensual death anniversary. How time flees!Like a thief! Stealing a precious person, a really  relevant relationship from me, from us! And,yet, despite this fleeing time, like a river in spate, her memory stays afloat, sheer beautiful and pure, like a swan, all the dross getting washed away.

And what a coincidence! Today it is the birth anniversary of Mother Teresa, who herself an ideal teacher, died on September 5. Right now, however, what seems truly touching to me is that today they both, Aai and Mother, share between them this Day.

Sure, their spheres were so very vastly different. Yet the intense feel was the same, the deeply loving care for the child. If Aai could pull out of the jaws of death her child, Mother cared for all the rejects of the rejects. Sure, Mother's care had a vast scale, but this quantitative difference apart, the quality of the deep feel was the same.

In fact, for Mother Teresa, even the unborn child deserved a deep bond. Just as Aai would share a feel for her Baby right from inception, Mother could care for someone else's foetus. There could be issues regarding this stance as there was a furore about many aspects of Mother's charity. Of/for a public figure, such a coercive/corrosive look at the flip side of her contribution is but inevitable.

Her work, moreover, reveals an interesting facet of the motherly feel, namely, that motherhood is not merely physical. Rather, it is a feel, an emotion. Of that EQ and SQ underlying the mother quotient, More discussion some other time.

Right now, I would like to remember that Mother's work was much honoured, beatified, venerated. For Aai, the consecration of her Love And Care continue to be our lives, being and becoming batter and better still, every which way, till the last second, without a lost minute, and thus our true and total return gift to Aai, and,yes, beyond doubt, to Papa!

Pratima@as God cannot be everywhere, He created Mother!

Abuse!

 Afgani  citizens! Till Yesterday late at night, I had two visions:the Panjsheer Fighters or the abused common citizens ready to tie themselves to a flight to flee the motherland. I kept on defending both the versions in a protracted online argument.

It was in a rather aggrieved mood that I was looking up Afganisthan. I was agitated that America could not see the injustice of its actions. And then there was this news item. It said that much worse than the Taliban was this very common, absolutely regular Afgani practice of "bachkani" whereby boys were regularly made to wear women's dress, made to dance in all male parties, and were then abused!

Despite having read "The Kite Runner" and thus having overcome the childhood naivete of a "Kabuliwala", this news, with terrible pics, of regular abuse made me feel so disgusted that I questioned my own misplaced sympathy for such abusers. Indeed, can an abuser pretend to be the abused? Can the inherently evil pretend innocence? Can those, who for their own silly, vicious fun, often momentary, destroy, scar for a lifetime someone else, completely innocent, totally vulnerable? 

No, is my resoundingly echoing answer. No difficult context can justify their current victim card game. Why could they never wipe out such evil from their social practices  when the times were amenable? Where was their civil society, their civic sense when such a tradition was rampantly allowed? Can they then call out (to) the rest of the world? Is abuse inherent to their very being? If so, how can the abuser be the abused in any context?

True, life is never black or white. Surely, political contexts are harsh. Even then, I find it now difficult to assume a kind of moral relativism whereby the endemic abuser presents self as the abused!Unethical is such a convenient use of abuse, I feel.

Pratima @ would not like to even mention Aai-Papa in such a write-up!