Just when I think it is over, it starts yet again. Posting while waiting for the flight, love the smell of the airports…
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“and when all the wars are over, a butterfly will still be beautiful.” ― Ruskin Bond, Scenes from a Writer’s Life
Published while watching Al Jazeera. (God! I am so obsessed with it)
Like a racing horse,
Thoughts are sprinting
Amongst is a thought,
To find a moment
And rein in,
The checkered mind
As that moment arrives
And I find myself
Into the labyrinth.
Is it just me or do you also go through the phase when you get a train of thoughts which keeps you in a knotty state for days? At times there is so much going on in your mind that you lose track of your trajectory and feel stuck like a person in the middle of the gridlock. One way, which I find easier to follow, is to become blasé to the whole situation and shrug off.
Not sure how credible it is, but it sure works :)
Eid Mubarak! Wondering if this Eid is same for everyone around the world. I don’t want to go through the despondent talks on Israel-Palestine War, Civil wars in Syria, Iraq and God knows where else nor about the bombing of a plane. Instead, I want you to listen to this track which makes me wonder where are the hearts of people who are fighting for reasons recondite to humanity.
It’s an Arabic song, luckily was able to find a video with English translation.
While browsing through my old pics, I stopped at these bell pics and wondered what was I thinking when I took pictures of these bells. Sure, the dense clustered bells must have been an intriguing factor, but the presence of so many bells in a temple not so heavily crowded was a little surprising. These pictures are from some temple in a small hilly town of Chamba in Himachal Pradesh, India.
Bell sounds can be commonly heard in India. And when you hear it, it is apparent that there must be a temple nearby. In India, you will never come across any temple without a bell, it is a ritual here to ring the bell before praying. After much thought on why it’s a norm for every temple to have at least one bell, I read somewhere that these bells are made of different metals in different ratios that gives them a distinct sound. It is said that when the tongue of the bell is struck against the outer cap it produces the divine sound of ‘Om’. In Hinduism, ‘Om’ is considered as the holy syllable which encompasses all the sounds of our universe. So, the theory is by striking the bell before praying, you are inviting the virtual energy or vibes to engulf your surroundings while diminishing the negative ones at the same time.
Remember to ring a bell in temples in India. :)
It’s finally raining in Delhi, still not pouring but rain in whichever form is pleasing. And it not only mellows you out, but compels you to read that complements your mood and the weather. Here’s one poem that goes with the weather, I hope you like it too.
By Robert Creeley
All night the sound had
come back again,
and again falls
this quiet, persistent rain.
What am I to myself
that must be remembered,
so often? Is it
that never the ease,
even the hardness,
of rain falling
will have for me
something other than this,
something not so insistent—
am I to be locked in this
Love, if you love me,
lie next to me.
Be for me, like rain,
the getting out
of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-
lust of intentional indifference.
with a decent happiness.
Not always a dilemma
At times you think,
To trust your thinking.
Not always you enjoy healthy relationships around you. Sometimes it gets really difficult to put up with people in such scenarios. Most of it is clearly because people don’t see beyond useless arguments. They can go on and on bickering about the issues without any logical conclusion. From what all I have seen and learnt as lessons, discord is not always due to difference in opinions, but there are countless reasons which we certainly overlook during frictions. I can pat myself for being a highly open-minded person who always looks beyond mere opinion differences.
I usually have altercations with my mom. Often I think, how can someone fight with me so much even knowing how much room I give to healthier ways of dealing with a problem. But anyway, so when there is an argument, I don’t just see it as a result of different point of view, but I am also ready to believe the biological side of it. Females being a more emotionally vulnerable gender, clearly are synonyms to ‘Nagger’. Well, I am a female myself and not patronizing them (or us). Men term women as cranky, complaining, nagger which undeniably is all true, however, at times it is not under their control since they go through hormonal turbulence all their life in forms of mensuration, pregnancy, then menopause causing not only physical stress but mental too that vents out by picking up fights.
Well, it’s not only women, I have come across something as Male menopause too! Yes, do you see a lot of above 50, grumpy males around you who do not show happy signs, male menopause could definitely be one of the reasons. Like females, males also undergo subtle hormonal changes that makes them prone to irrational behavior.
Similarly, we often overlook other possibilities of belligerent or argumentative way of a person before tagging them as “not-meant-to-live- together”. Ever heard of Bipolar disorder which causes mood variations? Gone are the days when this was a disorder of rich and famous and lonely movie stars. A doctor once told me a ratio of bipolar disorder is 1:5 in India!. Many of my colleagues complain of erratic behavior of elders in their homes who knows that it is Bipolar to be blamed for all of this.
In short, when you observe a certain behavior of people like picking fights, constant badgering, coldness etc. It may have got to do with any of the above. So, before judging them at least give a thought on the biological side of it and find a solution. Else, just treat yourself with quarrels everyday.
It started as a very ordinary day for me. Same running to catch a metro to work, carving my way in the crowd of zillions and at the same time strutting on those imbalanced heels. I usually walk fast during the rush hour in mornings, without looking left and right like a horse with blinkers. So, I was already running late and in those late mornings I can even ignore a Hurricane. While I was proceeding towards my next interchange of trains, my feet struck a baby shoe. A small kid of less than an year was being carried by his mother, the shoe must have got dropped in that hustle-bustle. While he was looking at his shoe wanting to tell his mum about his lost treasure, his mother was completely oblivious of the situation. Suddenly, he saw me coming close towards him. He made a desperate glance at me and the next towards his shoe. That innocent face immediately softened the robotic me. I picked up the shoe and extended my hand to give to him, he did the same with an appreciating smile but co-incidentally his mother made a swift move inadvertent of this secret meeting. I walked further to give the boy his shoe but his mother was making equal steps as me. In this long chaotic walk, the kid was the most desperate soul. Seeing this misery, a third person stopped the mother and pointed towards me. With a satisfactory expression the mother left with the shoe while the kid still facing towards me, had an overwhelming smile.
A brief love affair can happen anywhere and anytime.!
I was thinking of some good subject from quite some time and Voila I found it today.. at the back of a tuktuk :-). You’ll find all sorts of funny phrases written on trucks and tuktuks in India, but for once I found something so cogitative. I was impressed so much so that I chased the tuktuk to take a picture.
Translation (It wasn’t easy):
Had man been the embodiment of Love
Had he been a little more selfless
Had he been more conscious of someone else’s pain
He would have been a healer rather than a venomous snake.
It was spring as I remember
Her face beamed,
As zephyr brushed her hair
Seeing roses in the farm
Waiting for her man
She wrote another song
Woke up with a jolt,
She looked around the empty room
Rubbing her eyes,
She gazed through the porch
It was snowing,
And there were no roses in the farm.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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