Yakshagana

The pictures above are depictions of Yakshagana play.

Okay.. Let me honest..

Those pictures are of my maternal grandfather, Alike Ramayya Rai who was a very famous yakshagana artist, in a Yakshagana play. Those who can read kannada, here is a link on him.

But this link is not about him( Ya.. Ya.. I am saying this, after I have bragged about him, :P) This link is about the art itself.

Yakshagana literally means the song of ‘yakshas’. Yaksha is the name of certain celestial demigods in Hindu mythology.

Yakshagana is a traditional dance drama Indian art originated from Canara region in Karnataka . It is first mentioned in 1105. It picked up momentum in the 15th century and is the product of the Bhakthi movement in South India.

In essence, it is a form of folk art. It has borrowed some elements from the classical forms of drama and dance of South India. In the ancient time Yakshagana would be performed to the music played at the courts of feudal lords.

Most of the times, Yakshagana is performed only by men. The performance of Yakshagana is conducted in the orchestra, consisting of drums, stringed instruments and cymbals. One of the most interesting aspects of Yakshagana is its elaborate make-up code and large costumes.

The performances of Yakshagana generally depict scenes from South Indian epics and Indian epics (Ramayana and Mahabharata). There are two styles of performance in Yakshagana. That is Northern Yakshagana and Southern Yakshagana.

Video below is a yakshagana performance of "Kamsavadhanam"( Killing of Kamsa - a story in the Mahabharata ). Kamsavadham, a tale which depicts the killing of Kamsa, the evil uncle of Lord Krishna is a dance form in Yakshagana. This video shows parts of the complete Kamsavadhanam performance.



You can read more about Yakshagana in the wiki over here.
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Wish you all a very happy, successful 2012... May all your dreams come true...May you get all you ever wished for...

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Mother

This week's post is very special to me since it has been written by my mother in law. She lost her 87 year old mother a few days back and she wrote this post as a tribute to her. My mother in law has studied in the marathi medium school and has studied till the 10th standard. Whatever knowledge she has today( including this writing in english) is what she has learnt out of her own interest and quest for learning.

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Have you seen the picture "Mother India"? Every mother treats her children like that mother. These days children have no patience and don’t understand their Janamdata( the person who has given birth to them). They especially don’t understand their mother's feelings.

My beloved mother is no more. She expired on the 18th of December 2011. She loved us a lot.

My mother ! Oh ! My mother ! She was love and happiness itself. She was a teacher but she loved her children like their mother.

I was in the second standard and my class teacher was my Aai( I used to call my mother as Aai, which stands for mother in Marathi ). Those days annual examination was held by AEO( Assistant Education Officer ). That year, I got the first rank. My mother told the headmistress that "Good that my daughter got first rank in an examination conducted by the AEO. If I had conducted the exam and my daughter would have got first rank, people would have teased me." This incident taught me that I should not make a difference between my own people and others.

She had gone through many difficulties in life but she never grumbled. She never complained.

Those days most women had a lot of gold jewellery. My mother too had more than 5000 grams of gold ornaments. She lost all the jewellery to handle family problems. But she never uttered a word about it. She lived her life like any other person. What a wonderful personality my mom was! I have always been very impressed by this character of my mother. From this I learned that we should not be attached to material things.

I was in my fifth standard. I wanted to participate in the Nishani drill in which I was supposed to be holding a small national flag. I needed to wear a white dress while doing the drill. My Aai did not have enough money to buy me a white frock but my little mind could not understand her problems. I would cling on to her pallu and be after her about wanting the dress. She would always provide me for my needs, even though she would later struggle to manage the household expenditure.

She studied in the teachers training college in 1950s. There in one of the functions she sung a song in Marathi

Mana mi Kiti tuz shikavoo re

Ram smarawa ghadi ghadiss Ram smarava re

Mana mi kiti tuz shivavoo re

Saandooni Sukh he smaran hariche

Fukat kal ka davadi re

Mana mi…

Durlabha nar tan jaayeel jevha

Kay karil dhan raashi re..

Mana mi…

Patit pavan prabhoo hari smarata

Jashil moksha padhala re..

Mana mi…

( Oh! Mind! How many times should I guide you?

Remember Ram moment to moment.. .

Oh! Mind! How many times should I guide you?

You lose the happiness of remember God

By wasting your time in useless activities

Oh! Mind!…

The human body that you value so much, will be soon gone,

What will you do of your wealth then,

Oh! Mind!...

All your sins will be washed away if you remember God

You will attain moksha(salvation),

Oh! Mind!...)

She lived like this song. With this writing, I am doing a "Aakhri Salam" to my mother.

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Twilight years...

“Come here.. ! Wipe the kitchen... then clean the utensils... !” She calls the maid as she is cooking the morning breakfast.

“Lakshmi... where are you... I need you to chop a few vegetables...” Priya can hear her Ma in law calling out the maid.

Priya was watching the interaction as she sat sipping the morning tea, “Why is she monitoring the maid so much. The maid can take a decision. The job that she calling for is her routine one”

“I don’t believe in over monitoring…” thinks Priya.

“Lakshmi... the baby is crying...” Priya can here the voice again...

“Priya...you need to watch over the maids...they have become very lazy...”

“Hmm… Hmm...” Priya mutters. Her expressions clearly show that she doesn’t agree with it. Before she can reply back, she hears,“You need to keep the baby’s utensils clean. And you should drink a lot of water…”

Priya frowns at that. “I know that. I can think for myself. Does she think I can’t take the right decisions? Why does she have to advise me so much? Why doesn’t she let me be?”

“Can you tell Lakshmi that she needs to work for an extra half day tomorrow? We need her help to clean up the house. She will listen to you – she tends to ignore me.” Ma tells Priya, with a voice really soft. Priya can see the silent request in her voice.

Priya’s face is curious. “Wonder why does she think the maids will listen to me better? She is the older one. They will definitely listen to her.”

Ma then sits to work on her crosswords. “Which is the only animal that lays eggs? Is it the Platypus?”

Priya goes blank in ignorance. And then Priya’s face lights up in admiration. Ma's intelligence still surprises her. Priya mumbles an “I dont know...”

And then, Priya looks a little closely. She sees a bright face. Ma’s and Pa’s had been a love marriage. She can see why. “Ma’s beauty can still flutter a few hearts,” she thinks with a smile.

She notices the prominent grey veins in Ma's hand. She remembers the umpteen stories of gratitude told to her by the relatives of how Ma in her younger days, had been host to multiple family functions. People in the family, still like to call her whenever there is a marriage or a pooja in their house. After all she knows all the rituals of the house by heart.

She has brought up her two children to become an engineer and a doctor. She has lived through life and yet managed to retain the life in her.

She is now staying with Priya and her husband, who is one of her sons. There isn’t much work to do. There is a cook and a maid. Priya takes care of the baby and of course there is Lakshmi to help. Much as she tries to help around, there is not much to do. There is nobody to guide – What with, internet taking the place that traditionally belonged to the wise and the elder.

Sudoko and Crosswords don’t occupy her completely. Priya can see her Ma in law now. She sees a lady, who is missing being in action, who is missing being the center of the universe of her family.

Priya turns back to look at the dosa batter that she is pouring in to the dosa-pan. In childish desperation and with a childlike curiosity, she asks Ma with a smile... “Damn.. ! my dosas always stick on the pan... What can I do about it...?”

Ma’s face brightens up. The gleam in her eyes is visible. “Oh! That's easy... sprinkle a little water on the pan... and then pour the batter. There you are! all set! Crisp thin dosas... !”

Priya sneaks a glance at Ma. She sees happiness written all over her face.

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The lilliput world....

Ting Tong , ting tong ... rang the door bell.

A trifle irritated at the loud ringing, my annoyance turned into a smile when I saw the playful, cute five year old boy dressed in a parrot green shirt and beige colored pant waiting patiently.

The next door boy Sunny was at the door with a green sling bag on his back.

He returned my welcoming smile. Acknowledging my raised eyebrow at the sling bag, he said, “Oh .. ! I got toys to play with Nishka... !” His eyes searched behind my back, trying to find my seven month old daughter.

He spotted her cooing to herself on the mat in our drawing hall and he rushed past me and settled himself down on the mat besides her. Before she had a chance, all the toys in his bag were out. He showed her the new red colour bike, and the green colour drum. But the toy that was his favorite very obviously was the big yellow color bus. It had a honk and a smartly dressed driver.

The bus fascinated Nishka too and he watched intently she took bus from his grasp and admired the it holding it with both her hands. She looked at the front of the bus, and turned it and looked at the back. And she turned it again to see the front. All the while Sunny silently watched her.

A minute or so later, he turned to me and with innocent eyes, a voice full of concern said, “Aunty, can you ask Nishka to be careful… !”

I was mighty pleased at the chivalry and the concern. Feeling all good, I told him lovingly, “ You only tell her na… She will listen to you…”

I continued to watch him to see how he would convey himself.

He turned back to the little one, and with a face all serious said, “Nishka, please be careful….. "

And then he bent a little over the little one and with a face little more grim said, "Please be careful Nishka....... else the bus will breeeaaaak… !”

I quickly turned back to my book to hide the amusement on my face !

The 12 year old brother and the five year old sister were fighting for the possession of a calculator. Both of them wanted to hold it and play with it.

After a ten minute unsuccessful cajoling, requesting, threatening the twelve year old looked like he had given up as he left his sister alone and sat on the window, watching the bikes go by on the road below.

I was watching the light bantering between the children of a dear friend as I lazed on my easy chair reading a book.

I thought the argument was over and turned my mind back to my book.

A little while later, I saw the brother leaving the window and going back to his sister.

With twinkle in his eyes and a mischief all written on his face, he told his little sister, "Look I am going to type '5 * 5'… If the display shows 25… the calculator is mine… If it shows any other no it is yours… !"

I did not need to hear more.

Just two minutes later, I could hear the little girl complain to her mother, "Ma… Brother is doing some cheating…. For some reason when he types 5 * 5.. only 25 comes… !!"

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I know...

Last week, my mom, aunt, husband and I went to a jeweler's shop to get some jewelry for me. After a lot of debate we entered a high profile newly opened gold shop. After looking around a little, I found a beautiful pair of jhumkas that I really liked. We asked for a break up of the cost of the earrings. I loved the earrings and was willing to pay the price the shop keeper quoted for it. However, my mom after hearing to the breakup, seemed to say things like, “I guess we need ask dad about buying the earrings.”

Uh! I was a little surprised by that! And I was a little upset too. I mean what would dad know about gold and the cost of gold? If she did not like the earrings why wasn’t mom saying so? I tried reasoning with her that it was no use asking dad. But she wasn’t being very enthusiastic about buying the earrings. Why was my mom being so difficult? I thought.

I realized that I was becoming restless and impatient and felt bad about it.

That day we went back without making any purchase.

Once calmed down a little, I called my mom and asked her what the real issue was; to which she replied that she thought the cost of the jewelry was exorbitant. Again my mind started thinking - mom must have not liked the jewelry. That’s why, she was talking about price.

Since, she hadn't liked the earrings anyways, I thought I would go with my husband the next day and see if I there was something else that I would like. We went to three more prominent jewelers in the locality and we checked out the jewelry and the prices there.

To my surprise, I discovered that my mom was right! The jewelry cost at all the other major shops were at least a good 10% lower than the one in the first one. How could that be possible! I thought. I also discovered how the first jeweler was managing to camouflage the extra cost that he was charging. My mom, with her knowledge of gold rates, was able to figure out that something was not right!

I couldn’t feel sorry enough for making my mom wrong the previous day. With all my arrogance of “I know things better”, I did not even give her chance to voice herself.

Don’t we do that all the time, with our various near and dear ones? A lot of times, instead of hearing out someone patiently, we make judgments about people, and assume what the person is going to say or do. And the result of this is that the person does not have any space to say something creatively.

Once I realized my mistake, I called up my mom and apologized for my behavior the previous day and that evening we bought a pair of earrings that was not only beautiful but also priced properly.

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Keep touching us...

Yes, there will be delegates from the industry. We need to have atleast 25 stalls where they can present themselves. We should have a conference room to show the presentations. Our machines in the lab need to be the best condition. We could upgrade a few machines.

We agreed. After all we were hoisting the city CSI event. We needed to be extra cautious. Like soldiers on duty listening to every command of their brigadier, we were all ears to the person speaking.

After a pause the speaker thinks and he says, “And we need to have snakes too. Each snake is going to cost us 5 rupees. Three of you can be responsible to take care of snakes.”

We were dumbfounded. We looked at each other's faces. My friend passed me a chit, “Are we having a snake show?”

I passed her a note back, “I am as clueless as you are.”

The speaker continued to say, “Can we have samosas, and pastries as snakes? Raghu, Sonal, Priti can you take care of the snakes stall?”

We all were incredulous. Most of us could barely control our laugh. After all he was our Principal at the prestigious university in Gujarat. We barely made it through the meeting with a straight face.

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We had had a hard month. The project had been in its final stages and we had been working hard. The japanese were tough clients. What with their obsession for perfection! But we had delivered and the client was happy.

Anyone who has worked with a Japanese client knows that very few Japanese speak English. In doing a project with Japanese, the difficulty most often would not be the technical difficulties of the project but difficulties of communicating with them. Most of the English documents or mails they would send, would be the ones generated out of a Japanese to English translator software. It would always be a challenge to decipher any written communication sent by our client.

Our project manager, those days was a young, beautiful, fair, stylish young lady. One fine day, as we walked into the office in the morning, we saw her all red and laughing her guts out reading an email. Wondering what had happened, we went next to her. We saw the line that had caused her outburst. Our Japanese client had written a farewell mail to all of us, thanking us for all for the good job done.

The last line of the mail said - Thank you so much again..Keep touching us...!

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Oh! To be a baby again !

“Are you looking at Ajji? What are you seeing?” says an old lady slightly bent due to her age. She is wearing a faded cotton saree the pallu of which hangs loosely around her body and her shoulder. She has noticed the baby watching her pass by our car parked near a chat stall. The wrinkles on her face belie the struggles that she must have endured. The worn out cotton saree shows that she is from a lower middle class family. The smile on her face shows her kindness and her trust in life. She beams at me and looks back at the baby.

“Is Ajji looking nice ? Such a cutie pie you are ... Look at you staring at me... God bless you my dear... !” she says as she blesses the little one, smiles at me and moves on.

I feel movement on my legs as I am lost in my thoughts with my baby sitting on my lap. It is around nine pm in the night and we are waiting for my husband to get a packet of milk from a near by provision store. The baby is smiling and talking in her baby language. I follow her gaze to see a 70 year old cobbler smiling at her and cooing back at her from his small ragged shoe stall made of planks of wood. He is tall and well built. He is wearing a faded albeit clean white kurta and a faded white turban adorns his head. His demeanor evokes respect. Seeing me notice him, he gives me an apologetic smile. The conversation between the baby and him has been interrupted by my gaze but the blissful smile on his face is still intact. Seeing me smile back at him, he cooes to the baby a little louder.

Then he comes near our car and struggles to communicate with us. He says in Tamil, a language that I don't speak and very sparingly understand, “I have four children and twelve grandchildren. What to do akka? I have to come down here from my village in Hosur, which is around 60 kms from here, to earn my livelihood. Looking at your daughter I am reminded of my grandchildren...” He pauses to smile at me. I can see contentment all written over his face.

I am at Crosswords, the book store, looking for certain books. I have the baby in my hands and I can see that she has become restless suddenly. I can hear the baby saying, “AAaaeee…aaaaa… aaa…eee… aaAAAeee…aaa” I am curious and I turn back. I see two boys and two girls (staff at Crosswords) talking to my baby. The little one is excited at the attention she is getting and talking back to them. I smile at them, and let the baby entertain them. A little while later, they say “bye baby” and go back to their work areas. The smile on their face is still intact.

I pay for my book at Crosswords and go back to my car. I remember the happy faces of the old woman, the cobbler and the staff at crosswords. I turn to look at my little one who is now on her bubble making spree oblivious to the happiness she has spread around.

I smile with contentment as I make my journey back home.

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Stay Hungry... Stay Foolish...

I was pregnant with my child then. My grandmother had not been keeping well at that time. I had had a bad year. I had had a misunderstanding with a childhood friend of mine and few of the decisions I had taken had proved wrong. Perpetually in confusion and resisting the new changes that life was thrusting on me, I would be in a lot of discomfort. And then one fine day, early morning, my brother called me - He informed - Granny is no more.

No more! Huh!

Misunderstanding with a childhood friend!? :)

Ego was coming in the way of my friend and me getting back? :)

I went and visited granny in the hospital.

Was it true? Was this person, with whom I grew up - whom I admired so much - a person of determination and grit, a person with life and joy - just a body - Was there no soul anymore? Would this person never talk to me?

I mean, was there really no life anymore? - How was I supposed to come to terms with that?

My decisions had gone wrong?:)

Why did I feel so heavy and yet so light again..?

Though I still found it difficult to comprehend the reality of what happened, the inevitability of death hit me. A burden seemed lifted off my chest. And all my confusions seemed silly. I got in touch with my friend and told her about my pregnancy. I noticed that she seemed genuinely and honestly happy. I felt the tension waning away and after a long time I felt happy within.

It was at such a time, that I chanced upon Steve Jobs’s commencement speech at Stanford. Among the other things he talks in his speech, he mentions about his close shave with death and I couldn't help agreeing with it.

I know this is a much heard speech, but I couldn’t help reproducing some parts of it here again -

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself.

Stay hungry, Stay Foolish... !

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Lunch with God

A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of Root Beer and he started his journey.

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an elderly man. The man was sitting in the park just feeding some pigeons.

The boy sat down next to him and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the man looked hungry, so he offered him a Twinkie.

The man gratefully accepted it and smiled at boy. His smile was so pleasant that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a root beer.

Again, the man smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

As it grew dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the man, and gave him a hug. The man gave him his biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you so happy?

"He replied, "I had lunch with God." But before his mother could respond, he added, "You know what? God's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the elderly man, also radiant with joy, returned to his home. His son was stunned by the look of peace on his face and he asked," Dad, what did you do today that made you so happy?"

He replied, "I ate Twinkies in the park with God." However, before his son responded, he added," You know, he's much younger than I expected."

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!

~author unknown~

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This week's post is an article posted by Braj in 'The Speaking Tree'( http://www.speakingtree.in). Due credit goes to the author.

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My bird journey - The Pigeons...

Name : Rock Pigeon, Spotted Pigeon, White Pigeon .(From top to bottom)

Location observed : On the air conditioner in the building in front of my house, on window sills, terrace tops, etc.

Size : around 12 to 15 inches

Season Observed in : All through out the year.

Nesting : Birds nest for the purpose of laying eggs and breeding.It is said that the pigeon nests any time in the year. I had seen atleast three families of pigeons building their nest in the month of august and september. Yet another pigeon family had their young ones out around the month of march.

The female pigeon usually lays two white eggs. Rarely a female will lay one egg or even three eggs. The eggs are incubated by both parents for about 18 days. The female incubates the eggs at night and part of the day. The male incubates the eggs during the day giving the female time to get off the nest to eat and drink.

Physical Characteristics : Different species of pigeons exist.

An interesting fact about the rock pigeon is that they come in different colours. I can see the Blue Bar ( this is a grey pigeon that has blue bars on its wings ), Checkered ( it is a grey pigeon and has black spots on its wings ), Spread ( this pigeon has a single colour and the colour varies from a shade of grey to shades of black ), and white variety of pigeons near my house.

One thing common to most pigeon variety is that they have a very distinctive neck. The rock pigeon has a shiny green neck, and the spotted pigeon has a chess like checkered neck.

Pictures of the various variations of the pigeons can be seen on this site –

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Columbidae

http://www.diamonddove.info/bird14%20Rock%20Dove.htm

Other characteristics observed : Generally the pigeons flock together. The white pigeon, which is generally a domesticated rock pigeon hangs out with the rock pigeons. The pigeon courtship is a very common sight and is a delight to watch.

They seem to be scared of the eagle and when a pigeon spots an eagle, it warns the other pigeons, resulting in all the pigeons flying off in the opposite direction.

Pigeons and dove facts

Pigeon facts # 0

In ornithological practice, there is a tendency for "dove" to be used for smaller species and "pigeon" for larger ones, but this is in no way consistently applied, and historically the common names for these birds involve a great deal of variation between the term "dove" and "pigeon." The species commonly referred to just as the "pigeon" is the feral rock pigeon or rock dove (Columba livia), common in many cities.

Pigeon facts # 1

The species Rock Pigeon was domesticated many centuries ago and has today been bred into numerous varieties. Carrier pigeons have been used to carry messages, especially in times of war, and doves have also been bread for their meat, for physical characteristics (“fancy doves”) or for use in ceremonies. The most famous varieties are probably the homing pigeon and the racing homer; two doves famous for quickly and accurately finding their way home when released in other locations.

Pigeon facts # 2

Doves and pigeons tend to have powerful breast muscles which have made them popular as food. In Jewish tradition, doves are considered kosher and they are the only birds that can be brought as a korban (animal scarifies).

Pigeon facts # 3

The Passenger Pigeon is the only non-island pigeon species to have become extinct in modern times (i.e. after the year 1600). The Passenger Pigeon was once the most numerous species of bird on the planet and one of the breeding colonies was estimated to contain over a hundred million birds as late as 1871. The species died out in 1914 after years of habitat loss and massive overhunting. It was used as food by poor people in the United States and was an inexpensive way for landowners to feed their slaves.

Pigeon facts # 4

The largest pigeon species in the world is the Crowned Pigeon of New Guinea. This pigeon is almost as big as a turkey and can weigh 2-4 kg. The smallest species are the doves of the genus Columbina, which weigh as little as 22 grams.

Pigeon fact # 5

Many pigeons have received bravery awards and medals for their actions in war time. The French pigeon Cher Ami did for instance receive the Croix de Guerre, a military decoration given to units or individuals who have distinguished themselves by acts of heroism involving combat with enemy forces. Cher Ami delivered a message that helped save the life of 194 American soldiers during World War I, despite being shot through the breast by the Germans, blinded in one eye, covered in blood, and with a leg hanging only by a tendon.

Pigeons and dove lifespan

Domesticated rock pigeons have an expected life span of 15 years in captivity with occasionally individuals reaching an age of up to 35 years. In the wild, feral rock pigeons tend to live much shorter lives, often just 3-5 years.

Some additional information on pigeons can be found at : ( Some parts of this post has been picked up from the sites mentioned below. Due credit goes to these sites )

http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Dove

http://www.aquaticcommunity.com/pidgeons/

http://www.diamonddove.info/bird14%20Rock%20Dove.htm

http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Rock_Pigeon/lifehistory

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Mom and me and you...

As you purse your lips, your face content in our love, your expressions showing indifference to my cuddles, you spot the shining gold in my mangalsutra and play around with it - I can feel you feeling secure in my arms. I remember, as I was growing up, the gaze of little me reached up to the connical "thalli" and the black beads of my mom's mangalsutra and I remember how much this single simple black and gold ornament symbolized security to me.

As you tug at my kameez, lifting and pulling the corner, watching curiously at the flowers and designs on it, trying to pick them out of my kameez - I can feel you exploring life. I remember how after having a hearty meal or a delicious feast, I would washed my hands, and I would love to wipe them clean with my mom's pallu - I remember how much joy this little action gave me.

As you cry when I move around, calling and imploring me to pick you up, as you get mysteriously quitened when I do pick you up, as you stretch both your hands on my shoulder, envelop me in your hug and fall asleep in the comfort of my shoulder - I can feel the contentment and bliss you feel in my arms. I remember the days when my dad would go outstation, my brother and me would fight to sleep next to my mom and I remember how much the love, comfort and warmth of my mother would envelop me as I snuggled and slept besides her.

As you go "aaaaaaaaaa" in satisfaction and fulfillment of a full stomach, as you are ready to take on new activities with renewed energy - I see the twinkle in your eyes, your mischievous smile and your happiness. I remember the time, when I would be ill, hardly able to open my eyes due to a high temperature - let alone eat on my own, my mom would feed me with her own hands and the same morsel of food would seem so much more tastier.

As you poop and oblivious to the poop, you play and pull everything around you, while all of us, including me, come to clean you and set you free - I see that you know, that in case of trouble, all you need to do is to cry. I remember as we were growing up how my mom, wiped our tears or made a joke of some silly fights that we would have had with our friends - I would know that I was being serious about nothing - after all life was all a play.

As I watch you grow day by day, you will know, as I know, that no matter what you go through as you grow up, no matter who will stand by you as you fail, when you open your eyes and mind over your troubles, you will see your parents right there in front of your eyes.

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Helen Keller - The Story Of My Life - On Examinations

I read the 'The Story of my life' an autobiography written by Helen Keller* a few days ago.

As I read this book I was amazed not only to see how a blind and deaf person went beyond her disabilities and became one of the most respected and noted thinkers of her times, but also to see how Anne Sullivan, her teacher, taught and channelized her young boundless energy to bring out the beauty in her.

Helen Keller's writings are a pleasure to read, and give us a glimpse of the world that she lives in and experiences. Where at one hand one cant help rejoice in the small victories she experiences in her process of learning, on the other, one can’t fail to notice and enjoy her sense of humour.

The text below is a funny excerpt from her book mentioned above, in which she talks in exasperation about examinations and what she goes through every time she has to give an exam.

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But the examinations are the chief bugbears of my college life. Although I have faced them many times and cast them down and made them bite the dust, yet they rise again and menace me with pale looks, until like Bob Acres I feel my courage oozing out at my finger ends. The days before these ordeals take place are spent in cramming your mind with mystic formulae and indigestible dates--unpalatable diets, until you wish that books and science and you were buried in the depths of the sea.

At last the dreaded hour arrives, and you are a favoured being indeed if you feel prepared, and are able at the right time to call to your standard thoughts that will aid you in that supreme effort. It happens too often that your trumpet call is unheeded. It is most perplexing and exasperating that just at the moment when you need your memory and a nice sense of discrimination, these faculties take to themselves wings and fly away. The facts you have garnered with such infinite trouble invariably fail you at a pinch.

"Give a brief account of Huss and his work." Huss? Who was he and what did he do? The name looks strangely familiar. You ransack your budget of historic facts much as you would hunt for a bit of silk in a rag-bag. You are sure it is somewhere in your mind near the top--you saw it there the other day when you were looking up the beginnings of the Reformation. But where is it now? You fish out all manner of odds and ends of knowledge--revolutions, schisms, massacres, systems of government; but Huss--where is he? You are amazed at all the things you know which are not on the examination paper. In desperation you seize the budget and dump everything out, and there in a corner is your man, serenely brooding on his own private thought, unconscious of the catastrophe which he has brought upon you.

Just then the proctor informs you that the time is up. With a feeling of intense disgust you kick the mass of rubbish into a corner and go home, your head full of revolutionary schemes to abolish the divine right of professors to ask questions without the consent of the questioned.

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*Helen Keller was born in 1880 and at nineteen months lost her sight and hearing owing to an illness. Thereafter she was tutored, guided and taught by a wonderful teacher named Anne Sullivan to read, write and communicate. Helen went on to complete graduation and become an activist and one of the most prominent personalities of the 19th century. She had met all the US presidents of her age, and knew famous personalities like Alexander Graham Bell personally.

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Chintu ? :)

That is what I asked *Guru Mathur, the person who had requested to add himself as my friend on facebook.


*Chintu ? :)


Rewind 25 years. Our family of four had just come to a new city - far away from the hustle bustle of Mumbai. We had come to a different state and had found a house in a brand new apartment. I was around 8 years and my brother 10 years. I befriended a few neighbourhood girls and my brother befriended two or three boys.


One of the boys whom my brother had befriended was a young boy of eight. He wore tight, rexin, short, shorts and a tighter t-shirt. They played cricket, cards together and practically lived in each other's houses. We called him Chintu.


Those were the days of fiat and ambassador cars. The maruti 800 had not yet come in. The *bank with which my dad used to work, had given dad too a brand new ambassador car. It was grey, had a huge chest and big round bum and we loved it. On a lazy sunday morning, for the want of engaging the bratty two of us into some useful activity, dad asked us to clean our brand new ambassador car. I got the bucket out and my brother got few wiping clothes and within no time, we were cleaning the car. Me atop the front part vigorously wiping it, my brother atop the back one, and each of our numerous friends swinging on and cleaning each of the doors - and Chintu on the top!


One another day my brother was playing cricket with a few of his friends and I saw Chintu standing behind our big grey ambassador. I glanced at my brother inquiringly, and my brother barely able to conceal his smile, pointed at a sleeping dog nearby. Apparently Chintu was frightened of dogs and he was hiding from it. Somewhere in all the playing and fun together, we had also heard that he was called Gurunandan in school.


Chintu's father used to be a business man and they lived in a joint family and had the fiat car. My father used to work in a bank. This meant that Chintu's family was a little better off than ours. It hardly mattered to us.


Eventually we all grew up. We all went our own ways and lost touch. We all went through life! We went through the ups and downs of it. I heard from a few old friends that, today, Chintu is a senior manager in a Media firm. They said his pictures look like he is partying and rubbing shoulders with hob-snobs of the industry. My brother himself has worked hard his way up to senior management of a leading Telecom* company. But then that was just heard and forgotten. And after all who remembers friends from 25 years back when life is happening now!


On the other hand should I say, who forgets such friends!


Because one fine day, as I was busy with my life and going through it, something made me stop. And smile. It was a friend request. It said Guru Mathur - Media director. Was it Gurunandan after all these years? – I had goose bumps.


I accepted the friend request, smiled and asked him -


Chintu ?:)


I waited eagerly.


I was not disappointed.


The reply to my question said - Ya.. ! How are you doing ?Feels nice to hear that !:) Its been a while since anyone has called me by that name !
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*some details have been changed to protect privacy

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The day I set out cooking

It was a sunday morning. My in-laws with whom we stay had gone outstation - which meant my husband, me and our four and half month old daughter had the whole house to ourselves to fool around with. My mother in law's absence also meant that I now had the control and charge of the kitchen and could try out and enjoy a few dishes for the afternoon feast. So then, I combed my hair back into a clip, tied up an apron, took on a belan and like the super cook they show in the cookery shows I was ready to go - when I realized I needed some chillies, tomatoes, bhindi for making pulav.

We have an in-house vegetable shop in the apartment, but woe of woes! I did not have his number. My husband proudly fetched out the intercom book and with a ever helpful voice said - The number is 3-6-2.

I said - ok! 3 – 6 - 0 !

A pause on other side and I hear him shouting - No ! 3 – 6 - 2

Funny ! Why did he have to speak so loud I thought and said - Ok..Ok ! 3 – 6 - 2 !

I dail the number and all charged up that I am, I say- "is it the vegetable shop ?"

The voice on the other end goes blank and says - "Bejitable shop ? ..."

I pause. I frown and I reply - "Isnt it the vegetable shop ? .."

And the voice says - "No madam.. Bejitable shop nahin hai... Security hai !" ( No madam.. its not the Bejitable shop… it is the security ).

Uh ! I pass a very silent long 5 seconds with the receiver on my ear.

I recover first and before anyone else can deduce anything I say confidently and sweetly-"Is it 3 - 6 - 0 ?"

The voice seemed pleased as it replied - "Haan Madam.. !"( Yes.. Madam !)

"Do you have the number of the vegetable shop?" - I ask. I continue to have the confident sweet smile on my face and the sweetness in my voice.

"Nahin madam... hamare paass nahin hain... "( No madam... I dont have it ... )

And then, as an after thought - "ruko madam.. Bejitable shop ka number chahiye na... Book me check karta hoon..." ( Wait Madam... you want the no. of the Bejitable shop.... Let me check in my book ... )

And I hear him fluttering some pages and mutter to himself -" B .. A... G... I ....."

( Uh! I couldnt believe my ears. I am unable to suppress my smile that is forming on my face. I sit back and give myself a few seconds before I continue. )

"Thats Ok.."( barely able to speak between my giggles..) "I have the no.. Its 3 - 6 - 2..."

"Achcha madam !" ( I can hear the relief and happiness in his voice ) .. (Ok... madam..)

I still have the smile on my face as I call the Bejitable shop to order for the chillies, ladiesfinger and tomatoes that I needed for my cooking. This time I am more relaxed and slow.

"Kul milake kitna hua?" ( How much will it cost .... ), I ask the Bejitable shop owner, Sanjay.

"60 rupees", he tells me after a bit of mental calculation..

"Ok, please have it sent immediately", I say

"Thik hai madam"( Ok, Madam), He answers. And then lowering his otherwise very loud voice down to a whisper, he asks a little cautiously -

"Madam, Maa ji nahin hai... ?" ( Madam, is maaji( motherinlaw ) not there ? )

Uh... !!!!!!!

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My bird journey - The sunbirds...

It was a fine morning, when I spotted this bird. I couldnt believe that there were such beautiful tiny birds in my garden. I immediately googled to find out more about these birds and found out that these birds were called the sunbirds.

Name : Purple Rumped Sunbird ( Male )

Name : Sunbird ( Female )

Name : Purple Rumped Sunbird ( Male and Female )- Male at the back and female in front

Location observed : Garden below the balcony of my house at BG Road, Bangalore

Size : 3-4 inches

Season Observed in : Have noticed this in the months of june, july, august, sept. Sometime, mid august onwards, the birds started building a nest.

Physical Characteristics : Male - Shiny, bluish green head, upper body. Lower wings brownish grey in colour. The portion where the wings meet the tail, called the rump is purple in colour. Hence the name Purple Rumped Sunbird.

The female is light brown in colour.

Both the male and female have a black short tail. The chest of both the male and female sunbird is lemon yellow in colour.

All in all , a very beautiful bird to look at.

Other characteristics observed : They have a very sweet melodious , not so loud, tweep. One thing that I found really strange about them is that, inspite of the fact that they are so small, they fly very high ( they fly at atleast 40 feet from the ground level ) and for long distances ( They travel for about 1/2 km to one km, without pausing to take a break ).

Generally the male and the female birds are observed together.

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It was all about a pen

I was in the kitchen cleaning up a few utensils and my dad and FIL (Father in law) were having their evening tea. (Both my Dad and FIL are above sixty years of age).


Where is the “cross” pen that I gave you? - Dad (Eyes searching eagerly in the pocket of my FIL’s shirt)


It’s lying inside in my drawer somewhere - FIL (lazily reclining back on his chair and smiling back. He has woken up from his afternoon siesta and was obviously enjoying the evening tea.)


That answer hasn’t satisfied my Dad. He pursues – It’s not meant to be kept in the drawer! Put it in your pocket and show it off when you go to Apollo* sir! Look at how your status grows in the eyes of everyone around!


(My FIL is a pediatrician* at the Apollo* hospital. My Dad has retired as a very senior official in the bank* that he has served for more than 30 years. Both my dad and FIL have started small - meaning they have had a difficult childhood in terms of financial support. But with their intellect, dedication and hard work they today have semi-retired having achieved everything that a man could aim for. Today they earn the respect of one and all in the society. )


FIL - Yaa.. I will do that. I took it to the hospital a few days back. (Still unfazed and enjoying his tea.)


(Then he continues with a childlike smile)Since I have to write a lot, I don’t want to take it regularly.


Dad - No! No! You shouldn’t write with it! It’s only a status symbol! Put it your pocket and walk with pride. Know what! My friend was saying, it would cost around Rs. 8000 to Rs. 9000 as of today.


( My dad worked in a age, where the best salary one could earn was around 30-35 K. He worked in an age where money was spent prudentially and every paisa earned was saved so that the family could have a good life).


FIL - Really! You shouldn’t give me such costly pens Sir! (That has obviously woken him up.)

(With a concerned look on his face) Hmm.. I think I gave it to my wife a few days back. Let’s see.


(Goes in and looks in his drawer)


FIL - Its there sir. (The relieved childlike excitement in his voice can barely be concealed.) Look! I knew I wouldn’t have misplaced it!

(With a broad smile on his face, he proudly flashes thin golden colored pen which has CROSS written on it.)


Why did you gift me such a costly pen Sir!! (The relief has now worn off.)


Dad – Who says I bought the pen? Someone gifted it to me - I gifted it to you. (Smiling mischievously)


You will need it when you are walking around with the high profile doctors in the hospital. .


You know what! The high price is because the whole pen is gold plated. Use it in conferences when you need to sign on important documents!


FIL (nodding his head) - Hmm . Hmmm. (My dad has managed to get his full attention now.)


...................


A little while later, FIL got ready for his evening duty at the hospital. I notice that he has taken care to wear a white shirt to match the regal of the pen. I can’t suppress a smile as I am working on my laptop.


Just as he is leaving, my husband comes in from office. Places his bag and looks at his dad readying to leave to Apollo and he exclaims - Aiiieee! NEW PEN ! WOoooW ! (He has an ear to ear smile and admiration written all over his face.)


I dig deeper into my laptop as I try hard to hide my broad smile.


My FIL smiles back and goes to Apollo with a embarrassed beam on his face!

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Note – “ * ” indicates that some of the details in this post have been hidden to protect privacy.

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Helen Keller - The story of my life - What is Love ?

These days I am reading 'The Story of my life' by Helen Keller. Helen Keller was born in 1880 and at ninteen months lost her sight and hearing owing to an illness. Thereafter she was tutored, guided and taught by a wonderful teacher named Anne Sullivan to read, write and communicate. Helen went on to complete graduation and become an activist and one of the most prominent personalities of the 19th century. She had met all the US presidents of her age, and knew famous personalities like Alexander Graham Bell personally.

This excerpt gives a glimpse of how she learnt from her teacher an abstract concept like love..
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I remember the morning that I first asked about the meaning of the word, 'love'. This was before I knew many words. I had found a few early violets in the garden and brought them to my teacher. She tried to kiss me; but at that time I did not like to have anyone kiss me except my mother. Miss Sullivan put her arm gently around me and spelled in my hand, 'I love Helen.'

"What is love?" I asked.

She drew me closer to her and said, "It is here," pointing to my heart. Her words puzzled me very much because I did not then understand anything unless I touched it.

I smelled the violets in her hand and asked, half in word, half in signs, a question which meant, "Is love the sweetness of flowers?" "No," said my teacher.

Again, I thought. The warm sun was shining on us. "Is this not love?" I asked, pointing in the direction from which the heat came.

A day or two afterwards, the sun had been under a cloud all day, and there had been brief showers, but suddenly the sun broke forth in all its souther splendor. Again I asked my teacher, "Is this not love?"

"Love is something like the clouds that were the sky before the sun came out," she replied. Then in simpler words than these, which at that time I could not have understood, she explained: "You cannot touch the clouds, you know; but you feel the rain and know how glad the flowers and the thirsty earth are to have it after a hot day. You cannot touch love either; buy you feel the sweetness that pours into everything. Without love you would not be happy or want to play."

The beautiful truth burst upon my mind -- I felt that these were invisible lines stretched between my spirit and the spirit of others.

--Helen Keller, "The Story of My Life"
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Hmm...

me: What are the tasks that I will be busy with when my child is 3 months old

Shruti: if you are breatfeeding, the child is still not taking solids at 3 months old

which means the child is feeding about every 3 hours

me: hmm

anything other than the feed that I need to take care of ?

Shruti : Yaar.. I dont understand your hmmm... What is that supposed to mean ??


Hehehe :) ( Ok. so dont ask me what does a hehe mean )

A hmm just means - well I dont want to comment.

On a serious note, of all the things, a "hmm" says, it definitely says - I have a mind of my own and right now, I am thinking of something that I dont want to comment on. Which means, right now, I don’t want to share with you my inner most funny, naughty, intellectual, curious, silent, non committal thoughts.

So when you are sitting behind a chat window chatting, playing with the words,emotions and thoughts that the person in front of you is thrusting in front of you, enjoying the privacy of displaying your intellect without revealing your emotions, you revel in the alienation that allows you to play around with your “hmm”. Among the various things a hmm conveys, it could give a support of a friend when a friend talks about a broken relationship and how it is breaking his life… With your eyebrows twitched in concern and your heart filled with love and concern you would say. Hmm. Meaning - I understand your pain and I am with you and I will hold you till you are through with your it.


On occasions, a hmm can hide your embarrassment and the red face when you have goofed up on an important information and your friend is asking “how is that possible” and you quickly say a hmm. ( Behind your beet red face hidden behind the chat window of your laptop – you yourself are wondering – “Damn ! how could I have made that mistake”.) And you put up a brave front to your friend and with your teeth biting your tongue, you type in a word – the all hiding – hmm …. ( meaning - I too don’t know how that is possible )


A hmm can be an expression of understanding, an expression to digest in important information, an expression that indicates a quest for fulfillment of your insatiable hunger for knowledge. So when your husband gives you a gyan on how organizations are run and how people who own the company could be so different from people who control its daily affairs – You pause and digest the information on the screen and with bliss and contentment and achievement written, all over your face, you recline back on the chair and say a silent hmm ! ( Ah ! That was good information ! )

And there are times, you dont really agree to something someone is saying. But what to say - you dont want to upset the person in front of you. Its been 3 years since you have not spoken to that friend of yours. That friend has been your closest buddy for a long time. And now you are not on speaking terms. Your cousin is asking you to patch up with that lost friendship of yours. Call her up she says. With your lips pursed in anger, and your face all tight, you say an arrogant hmm - meaning - Not really interested. But I will think about it.

And there are times, when you are expressing to your friend how much you are enjoying your break from your career. And your friend says a hmm. This time I was on the recieving end - Well, this "Hmm" stumped and puzzled me. But I guess that meant – Good I am happy for you . What next now ? You hear the love and concern of your dear friend in that hmm. You hear a connection that is deep and a support that is for ever. And you smile to yourself and think – guess this is what friends are for.

And with a glazed look on my face as I am “Hmm”ing to myself – I hear a “ting” on my laptop. My chat window is blinking. It says

Shruti: Where are you ?

Oops! I realize I got lost. I got serious !

Collecting my thoughts back and looking at the chat window and looking at my dear friend for twenty years awaiting a reply to her simple question, I have nothing to say but – Hmmm…Meaning – I am here. Just lost for a while. And am I glad that you are there.. !

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My bird journey - The Koels...

One fine day when I went out to my balcony, I saw a brown coloured bird with white spots all over, enjoying itself eating the tiny red fruits in the bush below. I was fascinated. As I was engrossed watching this bird, I saw the black koel at a little distance from this brown bird. I knew at once that this brown spotted bird had to be from the koel family. My experience with birds has shown that birds of a feather truly flock together.

I quickly got my camera out, got a few pictures and googled for this bird. And here's what I discovered - The brown bird is the female variety of the Asian Koel. It is brown in colour, with brown and white stripes on the tail, and had red eyes.. !

( Please click on the pictures below to see an enlarged clear image of the bird )









And while I was busy photographing the female koel, how could I miss capturing the male Asian Koel - Dark black with shades of green blue on its feathers and red eyes..! Its proud demeanour had a presence of its own .. !







Beautiful as they are to look at, they are also very vocal. They are especially heard a lot during the breeding season (March to August in South Asia), with a range of different calls. The familiar song of the male is a repeated koo-Ooo. The female makes a shrill kik-kik-kik... call. Calls vary across populations.

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What are the three things that will sail you through life ?

One of my excolleagues and friend sent me a link to a blog post that she had written in which she asked - "What are the three things that will sail you through life?" The post and the topic stumped me. I thought and wondered about it. And here's what I discovered- The three things that will sail me through life would be -

1. Faith - This has come late in my life. But this quality has come to stay. I have come to realize that one just needs to have "FAITH" in life, and universe. Faith that everything that happens around you is for your own good and that everyone around and the universe has only the best of their intentions for you. I have written multiple posts on "Faith". Listing them below -

Nothing Will Happen

It Happened One Night

2. Friends - Recently I was going through a rough patch of my life. And if there was one thing that sailed me through the patch, especially since in a rough patch your intellect doesnt really work, it was my friends. There were times, when I had given up on myself and it was only because of few of my friends I was able to see myself - the real me. It was at that time I realized, that I might give up on myself, but my friends never will. Thank you guys!

3. Well, for the third point I would love to say fun or humour. But for me the third thing that would take me through life is "HONESTY" - When I say honesty, I do not mean being honest to others. Because what you say to others doesn't really matter. What takes me through the toughest times is being honest to myself - because then whatever others say or whatever situation says doesn’t really matter. Also acknowledging the truth to yourself, gives you avenues to take new actions.

What are the three things that will sail you through life.. ?

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Do I...

Do I ponder in to eternity

breathing in the pinkish orange morning rise

Or lay back and reflect within

watching the orange red shades of the setting sun

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These pictures are of the sunrise and sunset at the Kumarakom backwaters. Initially I had planned to put up pictures that we had taken ourselves - but then I couldnt manage to get a good soft copy of the pictures we have( Our pictures have been taken in the analog SLR ). Hence the pictures put here have been picked up from the net from the below mentioned URLs. Due credit goes to the photographer.

http://irisholidays.com/blog/houseboat-at-kumarakom/2011/01/17/

http://www.travellerspoint.com/member_profile.cfm?user=LisaO

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