Painting-Poesy 14 - Happy Diwali 2020

Like a long long 'ladi', news keeps bursting. 

Like the 'chakra', our heads keep spinning.

 

As the black snakes did to surfaces,

Our souls feel like deadened empty crevices.

Like a rocket launch gone wrong

We are victims of viruses strong.

But Diwali is not about crackers

Or even sweets or such markers.

The festival of lights heralds 

Truth's triumph over ignorance and the dark. 

From the great churning of the ocean came Lakshmi

So too maybe this chaos will lead to some yet unknown prosperity. 

Maybe climate change taken seriously 

Maybe values instead of economy given priority. 

Maybe with family and friends a rediscovering of humanity

Maybe love, hope, peace, a restoring of sanity. 

Diwali, the night of the new moon, 

From nothing births a fresh cycle soon. 

Diwali, a dark night, the darkest of all, 

Welcomed to teach us anew evil's fall. 

Wish Everyone a Happy, Healthy and Prosperous Diwali! 

May we share abundance, may we give plenty, 

May we celebrate equal opportunity, 

May we shine with and for compassion and liberty. 

Happy Diwali 2020!

- Written on 13 November 2020.

- Painted on 13 November 2020.

- Covid-19  and the ban on firecrackers (so very welcome) in India and the many many pieces of news that have affected us this year inspired this piece. 

Happy Birthday Karthik! 2020

Your chuckles brighten my day

Your zingers in my mind ever replay

On so many a topic, your unique take

Makes me rethink, reexamine, all that's at stake.

Your aspirations teach me to aim higher

Your quest for right makes me try better

You awe me with your focus, your kindness

Your refusal to ever settle for mundaneness.

Your dreams, your goals, I hope I can help achieve,

With you I grow and in a better tomorrow believe.

Happy Birthday, Karthik!

- Written on 13 November 2020 

- Self-explanatory 

The Blue Collar in the Hospital

Each time I am in a hospital, I am in awe

Of the dedication, commitment, of the passion raw.

The challenges of Covid-19 fought against daily,

No compromise on the treatment's quality.

The nurses have families, the ward boys too,

Some have stories of being in their buildings' taboo.

Yet they come, show concern

How can we with shame not burn?

What help we lend them, these warriors brave?

Each day they help avert dangers grave.

Checking, wiping, sweeping, mopping

Every newcomer tirelessly advising.

Protocols imposing, even as there is grumbling,

Persistently repeating, frustration sometimes revealing.

These are warriors, often cast aside,

Of the Doctors alone worship we abide.

But these sheet and dressing changers,

These rules implementers,

These frontline workers,

These are ours and the doctor's saviours.

So the next class on values and aspirations,

Should encourage participation in these vocations.

For what are we without the nurse and farmer and the sweeper?

What military, what white collar could without these prosper?

- Written on 12 Nov 2020.

- Was in hospital since an aunt had been hospitalised. 

The Digital Din

Said a little bird "I wish, I wish

Do this, do that, and be time rich. 

A day has just so many hours

So much of it on the laptop for the work farce. 

Then the mobile with us toys. 

There is just so much noise. 

The notifications get my attention. 

Then Telegram pops-up with one more question. 

The pages of the book drew me in, 

Kept me cocooned away from this din. 

Yet, I wonder why I can't cope. 

With more platforms, why do I only mope. 

More time I need perhaps

Should not let my attention lapse."

But no, what you need, is to relax.

To trust yourself to be on the right track.

Let the mind absorb at a speed that suits it. 

The world marches to its own beat, let it. 

Why join the crowd, when you are unique.

Why berate yourself for needing peace.

- Written on 6 October 2020.

- A student of mine was wishing for more time to spend on thr course. He seemed to be doing quite enough to us teachers but somehow his simply expressed desire struck me to write this for him, but also applies to all of us. 

The Stench of Caste, The Winds of Patriarchy

One more rape, one more sensation,

Soon to be: remain forgotten. 

Oh! Some anniversary we may celebrate.

Her name too we will take in vain. 

Jyoti or Manisha it matters not,

Nothing may ever stem patriarchy's rot.

As long we divert with the unemployment claim,

As long we refuse to the system change,

As long as we insist on false narratives,

As long as we fail to see how we are casteists,

As long as we deny the racism in this,

No change will come, no change can exist. 

Let's talk caste, let's talk of patriarchy,

Let's talk of the power hierarchy.

Let's talk Serious Man who naively thinks,

The 4th generation will live with equality. 

Let's talk capitalism that helps thrive

People with power to oppress and survive. 

Let's talk about our obsession 

With so called traditions as distraction. 

But then that is what we always do. 

At least till the next Netflix show:

Talk, rant, rage online

Vow not in my country, not in my time. 

Sure, so believable. 

Proven track record, so credible. 

What was the name again? 

Something, something... I must/do disdain. 

Oh well! Some other day

Today we chill. Tomorrow we find a way. 

Take a deep breath, have chai and pakodas

Mama makes them for us helpless bachchas.

#Hathras #Patriarchy #Caste #WahWahGandhigiri

- Written on 2 October 2020

- Self-explanatory. Google the first three hashtags, if needed. 

The Farce of Examination

The Govt issues a circular

On the eve of 8 September. 

Says in the order

Make 250 MCQs per paper. 

TY and MA exams to be conducted

50 marks in 1 hour to be attempted.

But we need extra to distribute

Model paper, ATKT, The Exam and a spare to boot.

By 15 September submit or be warned

There will be consequences that your career will harm.

Oh! And make them easy and relevant

We do not want to perturb the student.

A sample: 'In which play did Lady Macbeth appear?' 

Options: (a) Othello (b) Macbeth (c) Richard III (d) King Lear

The students studied just the one play by Shakespeare

And this is the farce we must contrive to 'pioneer'.

All teachers in a tizzy,

They teach more than 1 paper you see.

The deadline 15 September. 

Who is being really tested, they ponder. 

Viva creativity in plagiarism:

WhatsApp groups chime in staccato rhythm. 

Different cluster teachers share questions

Pacts of exchange that defy ethics of this profession.

But needs must, 

The deadline, the format, everything is a bust.

The examination will earn revenue for digital exam bodies

But will learning be furthered? Teachers feel further disembodied.

-Written on 11 September 2020.

- In response to an insane circular and the shenanigans it had led to. 

Painting-Poesy #13 - Happy Ganesh Chathurthi 2020

Vinayagara, Vignaharta, Vigneshwara! 

इस साल क्या कोई नहीं सहारा? 

Forlorn, locked in homes, we celebrate. 

Deserted, fewer Pandals operate. 

But Ganesh Chathurthi requires not crowds

This festival that all negativity fouls.

Defeated, ignorance, ill-will, selfishness skulk away.

On you, for the triumph of goodness, we shower praise.

Today in silos and not temples is this happening, 

We need no symbols for thoughts enriching.

Families meet digitally or not. 

Shops sell less, the economy falls.

Jobless more now, more homeless too

Many more victims of domestic abuse.

Health still stutters, infrastructure still moans. 

And it is tough to meet education's goals.

The world almost standing still,

Locked in, but so united in will.

Masks, earlier a danger, today a safeguard,

Health earlier ignored, today the stalwart.

Never thought the day would come, 

When the world would be largely one. 

It has been months, lord, 152 days or so, 

Many to save, there is still much to do.

The lesson learnt is humanity's core:

It is caring for others that is the stuff of lores. 

Not all are an equally privileged lot. 

We must share more of what we have got. 

Together we rise. We have a choice:

Continue to die or adapt to thrive.

The story of your broken tusk,

Teaches us that what is needed, do we must.

Wish us all the wisdom represented by Ganapati.

Happy Ganesh Chathurthi, 2020!

- Written on 22 August 2020.

- Self-explanatory. This day is Ganesh Chathurthi! 

- The painting is an old one. Was on the wall of my bedroom (I think my mother allowed me to paint every inch of that room's wall in college, because we would leave and before the next Indian Oil employee came to reside in the company quarters this would get painted over. She only had to tolerate this for a few months. I took pictures of some of the wall art and we did not develop the film for 1 year 🤣 How much more Indian Kodak family can you get? 😜😂😂😂) 

I still can remember many of them and while the pictures are bad in most cases (this was salvagable), the memories of painting of smelling it on the wall, of the brush strokes as I almost thoughtlessly painted, of the the chaos of multiple ideas that was my room from scenery to what not, remains embedded deeply in my memories.) 

#ganesha #ganeshchaturthi #COVID19India

The Headache

If I could drill through my head, 

The pain might go away. 

If I could hammer at it, 

This pain might, my head, escape

The eyes can't see clearly. 

The brain can't think lucidly. 

The visions and the thoughts are off-sync. 

It is like falling off a deep abyss' brink.

I beat my head against the wall.

The vibrations only make my head even more throb.

Sleep is elusive, cannily in hiding. 

Even lying down is too much effort, I'd rather be dying.

The head aches constantly. 

The breath comes in shallowly. 

The meds may work gradually,

But, right now, the future mocks unabashedly.

- Written on 10 August 2020.

- Well, it has been a long bout and seems like there are more miles to travel to recovery. The headache continues to be dreadful. It is one long flow with some ebbs, thankfully. 

Indians' Suicide Pact with English Pronunciation

Have you ever lost someone to suicide? In a country with one of the highest incidences of suicide, it is inevitable that we personally know someone who thought that death was the only option left.

Well, I have. Both in my family and student communities. It hurts. It takes a piece of your soul, or it feels like that at that time, but I do think it helps you grow more aware, more sensitive and strangely more outspoken than ever before. If you have ever been on a suicide watch, you would know what I mean.

I get the reason why someone might be driven to suicide. And I do not mean clinical depression. That is another topic altogether and it needs to be addressed, but by better-qualified people than me. I know, because I know people who have been, who are battling this disease. And it is a disease, not a state of mind or a matter of grit. Anyway, enough said. Another day, perhaps.

As I was saying, I have lost people I know to suicide. As an English language teacher teaching college students, often first-generation learners or kids who have switched from the vernacular medium to the English one just that year for the first time or were in a so-called English medium school, but were taught in primarily the local dialect; as a corporate trainer training young and old professionals who felt diminished because they did not know English, as a teaching aide in underprivileged, underserved areas helping either social workers or children or adults who felt brushed aside just because they could not communicate in English; as a human being with the tools of trade that granted me access to the inner circles of power (not the innermost, but at least a segment of it) because my English was considered good enough that I became worthy because I could wield this tool, I have been becoming increasingly aghast at how far we still have to go.

I have had several webinars on English Language teaching these past few weeks and consistently I have been asked "How do we improve pronunciation?" In a world so rid with illness, be that poverty or bigotry against women, Blacks or Dalits or migrants and so on, the question that haunts is not how to improve thinking, but how to improve spellings and pronunciation. Because the cosmetic is easier to change? Because the cosmetic is all that we can focus upon? Because the cosmetic is all that we care about? Because this illness of superficiality is more insidious, more virulent and more deeply infecting us than any strain of the coronavirus could be?

To get back to the thought I began with, this is why I have lost a few people, I won't take names and I won't give numbers. Because while I lost a few to quitting this world, I have lost a few to retiring from life, from hope. I still hope they may find in themselves a zest for living again, but for now, they have let the essence of them die. Their dreams. Their hopes. Their talents. Their personalities. Their feeling of being equal to anyone.

Why? Well, essentially because they could not wield English as a weapon to chisel people's perception of them as talented human beings of worth. So in colleges and offices and campaign fundraisers they were cast aside since they did not speak the lingo, not as the narrow-minded upper echelon understands English.

Have you ever tried thinking in a language alien to you? Or even not the one that you are primarily familiar with? Try expressing your thoughts in that language and just experience ideas vanish from your head as if they never were. Go back to that mother tongue that you seemingly know and try articulating complex thoughts of your profession in that language. Let's see you try. And then talk of how English can be easily learnt and that those who are complaining are just not trying hard enough.

Look at what I wrote above. I subsumed even the trauma of those individuals that I could not help and parlayed it into my own suffering of having to deal with their angst. Truly. And that is my point, very often we are so consumed with how people, things, events make us feel that we forget the greater meaning, the depth that underlies these interactions. Humanity. Thought. Not a mere tool for communication, one of many at that.

Indians are obsessed with pronunciation, but do we want to speak Nigerian English? No. Not even Australian. We only look to our former political colonisers, the British and our current capitalist colonisers, the Americans to speak the lingo of power. By the way, the pronunciations we want to emulate are located in the financial and political centres of power even within the nations of the UK and the US.

We do not want to think of how to improve meaning-making and aid critical literacy. We want to work on handwriting and pronunciation. And we wonder what is wrong with our education system and our society.

- Written on 27 June 2020

- Self-explanatory, but is triggered by Sushant Singh Rajput's death having some of us reminisce about the lives lost to the choice of suicide and today marking the anniversary of someone who had chosen this path.

Painting-Poesy #12 - Reflect

Deeply focus, reflect.
Deeply engage, resurrect.
No time though in between the frenzy
Of emails, meetings, deadlines crazy...
To look deep, to let the mind blank be,
To rethink, to reenvision, to then rewards reap.

Writing is tough, needs dedication.
Creating is tougher, needs relaxation.
Necessity may be the mother of invention,
But surely there needs to be time for contemplation.

Collective brainstorming is all good and welcome,
But when do we unwind and let the mind wildly jump?
In between work and household chores and family illnesses and technology problems,
How do we ensure creativity blossoms?

I am in the black and white stage, right now. 😭
#digitalart

- Written on 19 May 2020. Posted on Social Media on 20 May 2020.
- Artwork done on 19 April 2020.
- In reaction to a reply that said we must take a day off to answer EMails and another that averred that we will Deeply Think in our mid-week calls to a colleague sharing the following article!!!!!

https://www.livemint.com/mint-lounge/business-of-life/what-s-your-pick-staying-on-top-or-at-the-bottom-11589820636097.html

Painting-Poesy #11 - May Day

The mom story is best untold

Her tragedies better not unfold

Like the migrants, she is best unseen

Unheard, unspoken, just felt unknowingly.

She toils, her hopes she rarely uncoils

For often the world uncaringly them foils.

She gives even as she lies hungry,

She pays even as the privileged get more luxury.

Sleepless, homeless, stateless, nameless, 

Often past the use date discarded.

Oh! Stories of her are lovingly shared,

Her importance underlined threadbare. 

But nothing is really done to help her any, 

Not a vessel cleaned, no one else makes tea.

A thank you, a wonderful token

In her love all is forgiven.

But the migrant is not our mother,

Tolerance might not stretch for much longer.

Beware, learn, appreciate 

In actions not just words truly emancipate. 

Not the mother, not the migrant labourer 

They know how to care for the other. 

No. Emancipate yourself of self-absorption

Stop with the empty gestures and an odd token.

Live to ensure equality, not live off slavery. 

That will be Mother's Day and Labour Day victory.

#mothersday #migrants #MeTooMigrant

- Written on Sunday, 10 May 2020.

- Today is Mother's Day. Yesterday's headlines screamed of the callous disregard that migrants are met with. A sample https://mumbaimirror.indiatimes.com/coronavirus/news/sorry-we-have-run-out-of-all-words-today/articleshow/75638674.cms

Painting-Poesy #10: Flowers?!!

Roses scattered overhead
As millions plodded ahead
Hungry, thirsty for days
Filled with dread of even 1 positive case

No money to buy a seat on a bus or a train
India's coffers were not theirs to drain.
PM CARES! Yes indeed!
For showbiz and mockery!

And tear-filled drama some day will ensue
It is to lesser actors that this week we have bid adieu.
Corruption comes in all forms
A lack of heart, the refusal to see, the worst of all.

Classist India, not classy nor classic
What you sow today is tomorrow's arsenic
Shameful! Wasteful! Governments State and Central
Remember: Today's weak and meek will one day be powerful.

Liberty. Equality. Fraternity: The French Revolution
Swadeshi. Swarajya: India's Evolution.
Remember: It is mass, not class, that does a nation make
Remember and act before it is too late.


#FoodorFlowers #MedsOrFlowers #IndiaBleeding #IndiaWeeping #ClassistAttitudes #BestUseofArmyNOT

- Written on 3 May 2020.
- Today, India took the historically brave, the unparalelled sensitive decision to shower flowers from the skies, to thank frontline workers, roses mind you, and using Army jets at that, while lakhs of migrant workers had to pay 30% more than usual bus fares and sleeper train prices to go home.

Painting-Poesy #9: The Australian Bushfire

The screams I hear in my dreams
Through a curtain of orange dancing beams
Tortured animals seeking shelter
No respite. Mankind's blunder.

As we debate people's rights,
Trees and animals gasp their plight.
World over the climate change danger
Is shown escalating, but we just ponder.

'Now' is all we seem able to think about
Economics all we care about.
Stock exchanges soar as forests burn
Oh! Against nature what a drastic turn.

As 10,000 camels get shot in Australia,
So much coverage of Megxit to Canada.
This self-involvement of humanity
Has been the cause of many a calamity.

The world is burning, drowning, self-destructing.
But development metrics to money we keep linking.
Someone told me the other day "Why care who gets included or educated?
In a decade or so, we might ALL be anyway dead."


#ClimateChange #globalwarming #AustraliaBushfire

- Written on 11 Jan 2020.
- Self-explanatory

Privilege

Brutalised. Bloodied. She lies on the road.
"In death lies justice " is the crowd's roar.
"Her cries were ignored, her pain must be avenged,
Shoot them. Hang them. They must pay for their offence."

But some cry out otherwise
They are in turn reviled.
As enemies of women
As ruthless, as craven.

I wonder if justice always leads to peace.
Can revenge ever be to progress a key.
Fanon said of decolonisation
That it can't occur without violence.

But is that true?
The Rwanda story shows a different hue.
As for those protesting death sentence
They worry that then there will be less deterrence.

See, life is valued by those who have plenty,
Those who feel they have little to lose may be more freed
To commit crimes aplenty,
For death can't be revisited time-a-many.

Also then would girls and women come forward
To report family and friends of behaviour untoward
What about a woman raped by her husband
Will her trauma be ever subsumed by fear of this punishment?

Or does one think there are levels of rape?
That some can be forgiven, because, you see, PRIVILEGE.
That some people deserve it
That not actions, but persons and stations judgements merit.

I wonder...
What we value better,
The need for long-term reforms
Or a temporary feel good action acknowledgement?

This is not to say that those who suffered or are families and friends of those who suffered rape be sympathetic to abusers. This is a reflection on society as a whole and the value systems we seem to practice regardless of theories we spout.

- Written on 24 Jan 2020.
- Nirbhaya's killers were finally hanged to death. But...

Class Privilege

In our privileged homes with just our family
Even if they do drive us crazy,
Even as of lockdown travails we crib and moan,
The poor, the migrants yearn for home.

We tweet away #BharatPadheOnline
We promote #ArogyaSetu as our defence line!
As hungry and thirsty, millions fear
Losing their sole connection to those dear.

Are #Mobilephone companies even listening?
Are governments of the poor even caring?
No pay, no way. Will utilities be cut off?
Do we care if millions their slow death sob?

#MiddleClassPrivilege #UpperClassPrivilege #IndiaDoesNOTCare

- Written on 15 April 2020
- Reference: https://www.bloombergquint.com/coronavirus-outbreak/not-rs-500-indias-poor-need-at-least-rs-3000-a-month-george-mason-university-researchers 

Breakneck Pace during Lockdown

The breathless pace, a lack of space
Family aghast, peace frays.
The silence outside beckons
One dares not though for work summons.

Phone in one hand, plugged in earphones
One sweeps and mops as colleagues drone.
Carefully vessels are handled in the sink,
So the other side may not hear how insanity is on the brink.

No time to eat, food made in a hurry,
Forgotten in the rush is our legitimate worry,
Of how we fare as a society, as a human,
Whether we need change for redemption.

Deadline to deadline, call to meeting
We ever rush even knowing we are sinking,
Is the pandemonium over the pandemic worth it
Is this quest to find answers NOW the right fit?

What will happen if for a day or two or a month even
We do nothing organised and let our thoughts deepen
Would we reach a new realisation
Could there be another solution?

How will we ever know, if we never pause?
How will we ever grow if we still chase goals false?
But how do we dare to do nothing
When the world demands our everything?

- Written on 1 May 2020. Labour Day.
- Lockdown extended for another 15 days. Deadlines even more rushed and more work than ever piles on. 

Social Distancing

As I hear of millions of people walking miles across states,

as I hear of more and more cases of ostracism of health care professionals and delivery personnel and air line crew (all in societies with members who have earned degrees - I refuse to call this group educated -),

as I read more and more on some groups I belong to how unclean this other group (so many euphemisms for basic caste prejudice)  is in a situation completely wrought by a more privileged class,

as I hear the moans of those stuck at home who are wondering what to buy and how to buy when they would have enough food for at least three days to a week of survival,

as I hear the sorrowful exclamations of those losing money as the stockmarket plummets

and as I hear stories of how poor kids are cooped up and how poor parents are dealing with this

I sympathise A TEENY-WEENY bit.

For I hear the growls of stomachs hungry for days now trudging home on feet,

I hear the cries of children on streets unable to make ends meet

I hear the sniffles of parents whose families survived on pav and tea from the vendor

I hear the angst of the doctors and nurses grappling with dwindling supplies and worries for their own kin

I hear the delivery personnel needing to balance health and pay check be questioned for late delivery,

I hear the maids and drivers calling anxiously if their pay would be docked

I see the suffocation of 10 and more crammed in a 8 by 8 room with little to eat and no money to test

Stay Home! How wonderful! In a country with millions homeless.

Complete lockdown of hotels and such in a country with millions of migrants and poor who survive on buying food.

Complete lockdown of transport because the poor can die or they can walk, how cares a jot.

No. No. Yes, Yes. We care. Absolutely.

In the meanwhile let's crib about internet speeds and organise 10 hour long calls for productivity.

For a revolution to happen, I think we need the middle class.

For that to happen, they must either be empathetic or SUFFER.

I have given up on empathy.

Maybe suffering will teach me

Less complacency, more proactiveness,
Less dramatic speech, more foresightedness.
Less (nothing) of building temples or mosques,
More of hospitals that care for people on the ground
Less (nothing) of SOPs to people with billions,
Immediate money transfer to Jan Dhan accounts,
Appropriating all statues, places of worship and such's money
Emptying the coffers of every single political party,
Every marketing campaign to thrice over contribute to environment and health
All of us stopping this crazy rush to accumulating wealth.


No milk for 3 days or seven
No food supplies even
Water scarcity, every drop would count
May be then we can finally, superficially understand
The suffering of millions (the majority), our true strength grand.

- Written on 26 March 2020
- Migrants dying of hunger during #LockdownWithoutPlan 

When books don't captivate..

Busy. Busy. Busy.
The mind an ever humming bee.
When so much noise is there
Can you to relax even bear?

For words flow best from paper in silence
Not world's mind you, but your quiesence
If there is inanity even disturbing the peace
Thoughts interfere. Reception does cease.

Mindless ramblings your mind sojourns
You wonder why words it shuns
But no more ideas can it take
No more, not to one more person can it relate.

So in this cacophony, let yourself be
Forgive yourself, don't feel guilty
And actively seek to yourself release
From the mundaneness that holds you in captivity.

Then words will come to you on paper and in dreams,
The novel, the poems, the drama will be all beams
That bathe you in their light,
That make you laugh and cry
Ecstasy too you see
Needs some calm, some peace.

- Written sometime ago.
- I had written these lines for a teacher who complained that she was unable to read anymore. I think it applies to us as well in these times of Corona.

Heed the Signs

The birds outside my window are still chirping
It is almost noon, but they are still out flying,
The noise from the daily bustle is missing
Nature's on display and it is heartening.

No one out and about is such a wonderful thing,
One hears the whisper of a butterfly's wings,
The squirrels pecking away, the crows cawing,
Listen, there is an orchestra unfolding.

We need more such days of unwinding,
May be that will lead to realising
No progress is worth this rush
Not if environment we crush.

Let's not forget the daily workers,
The sweepers, the chemists, the vendors,
The nurses and doctors, the transporters,
Let us make pay commensurate with labour.

Maids not coming makes one miserable,
So for her raise or leave no longer quibble.
Learning is important, not degree or money
Kanika Kapoor onwards stop celebrating idiocy.

All those foreign returned educated fools
Who would with paracetamol tricks temperatures cool,
Such selfishness proves you useless, spineless ignoramuses
Whose degree and money is not worth the paper printed.

Clang hands and pots and pans by all means
But also get them masks and other aids of hygiene,
Health can't be 1% of the GDP or your tax portfolio
Environment is more important than building statues or having the economy grow.

And every leader who said 'How can we?'
'What will happen to the economy?'
Well, now you know we can recover
Redefine at least now how we prosper.

Of humans we have 7 billion,
But Earth, we have just this one.
We need to think and act now, today
We need to commit to a slower, more rewarding pace.

Painted 22 Dec 2018

Photo Taken from Bedroom on 23 March 2020

#Janatacurfew #Coronavirus #Covid19 #Education #Progress #Nature #Health #environment #India

- Written on 22 March 2020.
- Self-explanatory.

Happy 2020!

Wish you and yours a wonderful 2020!

May this year be filled with 366 days of love and laughter.

For my annual verbal diarrhoea, read on :) or skip NOW 🤣🤣🤣

Oh 2019! What tumultuousness you brought
We are still with tensions fraught.

From the Amazon fire that raged
To Greta Thunberg's fierceness on stage
From Trump's extravagant self-indulgence
To all the year end divulgence.
From UK's Theresa May's exit
To Boris Johnson's ongoing Brexit.
From Hong Kong to Bolivia to Lebanon
Mass protests have the world over risen.

In India, Kalam had wished for his nation
To be everyone's preferred residential destination
To have us all proud of our leadership
Oh! How far we still are from his wish.

As a country we lead, certainly,
But in internet shutdowns and children going hungry.
While Kalam imagined equity and plenty
We spiral down and down to  divisive polity.

But despair not, there is hope yet.
The youth is here to protect
The constitution, the world even,
Nature and each fellow human.

Be it Greta or the youth of India
Focus is on action, not just posts on social media.
Yes, we could have spoken up sooner
For causes equally dearer.

But there is, at last, change in the air,
Knowledge with passion is often paired.
A new morality, pragmatic reality:
Votes have spoken for greenery and humanity.

Yes, we are far from Kalam's 2020.
But we have our own Humpy,
Sports has brought us much glory.
And though no longer Indian, we claim Abhijit Banerjee.

As Faiz, Ambedkar and Maulana Azad
Vie to be seen on many a placard,
We see a nation, the world, arise
We see leaders taken by surprise.

Be it New Zealand's or Kerala's bipartisan buy in
Of climate change laws or anti-discriminatory inclusion
We all have sung as loud as we could
"One life, you’ve got to do what you should."

2020 may you be kinder
Usher in a period saner and safer
Grant us all peace and wonder
Have us more united and wiser
Enable us together all prosper
May nature and humanity, both, you foster.

- Written on 31 December 2019.
- Self-explanatory to a large extent.
Humpy won the chess championship, Abhijit Banerjee and coterie the Nobel, mass protests the world across have shown the power of humanity, the NRC-CAA seemed like the last straw for many an Indian after Kashmir's internet shutdown since August 2019, Greta Thunberg was Times's Person of the Year for her activism, youth across the world are leading the way to change, from Kerala and New Zealand are united, the protests in India quote Faiz, Ambedkar and Azad (so do pro-CAA at times strangely), and I quoted U2 (which toured in India this 2019) "One life, you’ve got to do what you should."

We should and we will. Inquilab Zindabad! 

In Response to Reflections

Jagged though the pieces be
The indulgence doesn't seem petty
When with hope it fills our being
When memories it gives comforting.

A broken mirror many demean
But look even when broken it has its sheen
It reflects our truths manifold
It shows us perspectives earlier untold.

So shadows though we seem to chase
It is human, is it not, to participate in the race?

- Written on 24 November 2019.
- In response to a poem-post by Shakir called Reflections, which in itself seems to have been inspired by a story I shared yesterday captioned Aaina mujhse meri pehli si surat maange... 

Find Shakir's post here: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10158098759389767&id=783374766 

Lost in the Kindle Maze - Tagore

Tagore's 'Kabuliwala' iconic
A story that takes us to lands scenic,
Tells of stranger-danger bias
Overcome by a child's welcoming cries,
Shows the common bonds love for family
Shared by all of humanity.

This tale we set out to search for
Publishers we found galore.
Written first in Bengali and translated into English,
Many a translation we found remiss.

Kindle seemed to be the new in-thing
And bookshops stored more of Ruskin Bond's inkings.
This 1892 public domain story found home in collections many,
Alas! publishers charged exorbitantly.

It makes one wonder what is affordability
How do we ensure for all information accessibility?
Is it to be that kindle is the way to go?
Ebooks rather than paperbacks will grow?

So perhaps we must
Give teaching a new thrust:
Include reading skills on gadgets
To ensure information reaches the masses
To be inclusive in affordability
We might need our materials to tweak.

Studies aplenty describe paper's quality
Of information in our brain's survivability.
But we need to perhaps make way for strategies
To teach retention despite processing digitally.
Perhaps we need to stop moaning about the old days,
Perhaps we need to carve out new educative ways.

Said Tagore on educating a child:
"Don't limit a child to your own learning,
For he was born in another time",
This was the Nobel Laureate's insistence:
"The highest education... makes our life
In harmony with all existence".
Today's methods rooted in mindless tradition he would deplore
He would urge us to new territories with objectivity explore.

This man, a synthesis of civilisations -
Hindu, Mohammaden and Western -
Being ever rational and respectful in disagreements,
One who lived his life on his own terms.
His copious work not available easily is a pity,
His thoughts need to be disseminated more widely.

- Written on 17 November 2019.
- In reaction to trying to find an affordable Kabuliwala to gift 40+ people in these last 03-04 days. 🙄🙄🙄

On Ayodhya Verdict - चलो मंदिर मस्जिद बनाएँ

एक कर्म का क्या खूब फल मिला
देश को दहशत में डुबाने में कौन सफल रहा।
मस्जिद गिराके मंदिर बनाओ
था मंदिर पहले यकीन दिलाओ।
कानून कहता विश्वास है सच्चा
मानो बात उसकी जिसने आतंक फैलाया ।
ना सोचो कि क्या एक गलत से दूसरा गलत धुल गया
ना मानो कि आज एक बार फिर यथार्थ को भरोसे ने झुक्लाया।
हाँ, यहि है राम भूमि, कर्म भूमी
शर्म और इंसाफ की मृत्यु श्रेणी।

- Written on 10 November 2019.
- In Response to the Ayodhya Verdict by the Supreme Court of India on 9 November 2019. 

Painting-Poesy #8: Happy Diwali 2019

Stories of resilience are often told
To give the miserable encouragement and hope.

Be it the the darkest night lit with rebellion
Lights of knowledge spearing the machiavellian
Be it the laughter of dear ones enlivening spaces
Be it the bounty shared shining through grinning faces.

Be it the spirit to say 'No to Crackers',
Be it the spirit that yearns for sparklers
Both united in wishing for all
Of peace and prosperity a steady rainfall.

So too I wish for all of us this season of joy,
May we be inclusive, wise and stronger in unity, than the new magnesium alloy. :)


- Written on 26 October 2019.
- Diwali is on 27 October 2019.
- Also on Facebook and Instagram - Facebook Link

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10156261736706230&substory_index=0&id=692626229

Let the child in each of us ever be free. Joy lies therein.
- Someone must have said this. If not #AnushaLogism.

Painting-Poesy #7: Black

Black is something often reviled
With depression it does get filed,
But a person sad will tell you
Black comforts, colours hurt you.

The loudness of red is a gunshot
The cheeriness of yellow highlights your life's rot
The soft pink
Makes you your tears blink
The blue sky is bright
Seemingly indifferent to your plight
The vibrant green
Gives more than you can glean.
A failure is what these colours make you feel
In a hypersensitive state, just one is enough to deal
Black obliterates them all and yet them encapsulates
If the message is what is important, black has all that it takes.

Shhhhh, let silence be,
Ahhhh, in nothing do beauty see,
Take a deep breath, let peace in seep
Do not be afraid with friends to weep.
Lend an arm, a shoulder, an ear
Not false hopes, peddle just support against fear.
Let the sad be, do not chasten,
Do not unnecessarily recovery hasten,
It takes effort and strength, but accept
This is a process, and just your company is all they expect.

#worldMentalHealthDay #mentalhealth #Depression #Support #justbeing

- Written (and painted) on 10 October 2019.
- Why? Well it is World Mental Health Day.
- First shared on Instagram and Facebook.

Happy Ganesh Chathurthi 2019!

Vignaharta - Remover of Obstacles
But do setbacks give a sense of what else is possible?
Do they serve a function of pause and reflect?
Do they make us see in our charts, the defect?
If then, should obstacles be removed?
When there is no opposition, will we be improved?

Questions to ponder upon as we Ganesha's name invoke
Do we really want all challenges revoked?
Ganapati is also known as Vignakarta - the obstacle creator,
For the value of hurdles is known to a good educator.

The taste of failure often teaches
More than what one accomplishes.
One won't realise one's inner strength
Unless one overcomes some resistance.
One won't be truly aware of one's conviction,
Unless one is posed a contrary opinion.
One won't change and evolve in the path of progression
If one never faces a reason for course correction.

So invoke Ashrith and grant obstacles too protection,
As Amazon and Aarey are destroyed, may there be more rebellion.
And by remembering Atharv may all strive for true sagacity.
By supplicating to Anav may we peacefully actualise the bonds of humanity.

Happy Vinayagar Chathurthi!

- Written on 2 September 2019.
- Because it is Ganesh Chathurthi today. Because on these times it seems all the more necessary to have a robust opposition and ensure less smooth sailing and more course corrections :)


And because I am on Facebook -

A Response to a Response on my this post:
https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10156133671561230&id=692626229

But the names invoke a call to action
And perhaps we need remember the reason
Why there must be some opposition
Even as we march in the name of progression,
Let there also be a celebration
Of causes of pause and reflection.

We need all the more voices
To make us evaluate our choices.
Inclusion is key and it is within us
To listen, to speak, to respectfully discuss. :)



And a response to An Ode to Ganesha by Anjali Monteiro
https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10220986288990979&id=1354335878

Says Ganesha, the symbol of protest,
Born of political maneuvers this overt fest,
Know my stories to know me,
I preach not violence but peace,
Not temples, but relationships I revere,
The downfall of bullying and pettiness I steer.

I was born of my mother, adopted by my father,
But no one questions my right to my forebearer.
I am for all, I know no religion or nationality,
Buddhism, Jainism, Sinhalese, Japanese all adopt me.
I am bound to not even one name
Alas my followers often remember just my fame.
I am now just a pandal hopping game,
Donations and footfalls are all I can claim.

But know my stories to know me,
Look for meaning though, not superficiality.

Feudalism: Outdated or is it?

In response to a Facebook post by a friend/ex-colleague/thinker-philosopher. 


Hmm... wonderfully written, but it makes me ponder,
The feudal mentality seems never to falter,
The lord beckons and sudama hastens,
Revelling in whatever his benefactor sanctions,
The happy man is happy,
But what his aspirations, what reality?
When in Bengaluru he faced revile,
Did he then his dreams in dusty corner file?
Is it satisfaction or contentment or resignation or a poor comparison?
What does he provide as happiness' definition?

The feudal prince has the luxury of time to think, to strum, to write,
Another privileged then reads and decries,
Even as Mohanna and like stand ready
To serve these 'knowers' with an ear, a smile, pakodas and tea.


______________________________
In reponse to a response


Kumar Arunachal I ripped myself too. Write more. Write thus. Your writings provoke. Be provocative. Make others think through.

As I was rereading your post and I have read it a few times, my bai got me tea that I had begun brewing and then got on a call and forgot about as I logged back into Facebook to respond to some comment and then saw your post again and it got me thinking and writing.

She is happy too, my kaam wali bai, so she says. I am the privileged you refer to. The thinking pseudo-liberal classicism deriding classist practitioner. I have been following the multilple class and caste based racist reports and your post struck me, it stabbed me too, provoked me to self-examination.

So thank YOU. Keep writing. :)

Kumar Arunachal also please do not think it was shallow. It is deep. It is a honest self-exploration. I do think you were writing about Mohanna as much as your own journey of feudal expectations and feudal realities. You were being critical, but honest and sensitive.

I just feel at times, and this is also because perhaps I am spending a lot of time talking to maids and helpers amd dealing with classicist, racist mentalities at home and even service providers that I am pondering upon

What is happiness for someone never allowed to dream?
When the dreams were tailored, they would have very rigid seams?
When the material was coarse, the cutting rough?
When ragged edges were ruthlessly hidden by stitches tough?
When the cut was functional, not complimentary?
What then was one's imagination of beauty?
When just survival is both a challenge and a necessity,
What then one's idea of development versus duty?

It is something I have been trying to grapple with and felt I could share with you here, since you seem to be grappling with the other side of the coin.

What when has aplenty
What challenge then remains to be?
What when success is the platform
What act then can one perform?
What when family history
Makes one's jaw drop with glory and gory,
When repelled one is still bound
That the ties strengthen even as they confound.
What when one looks around and sees
More hope in those who should have felt misery.
What when knows not what cause has one to rebel or revel
What then is the fate of the individual?

The problem of the current well-off
Of both aspiration and deprivation complaints they are rid of.

- 27 August 2019.
- Yes these were Facebook replies, but I liked these so thought to record them here as well :)

Link to Facebook Post that triggered all this https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10157623256819571&id=834854570 

For Your Own Good

There is a girl. She was wed as a child into a much richer household that promised to take care of her as their own. She was reluctant. So was her guardian, but he chose to marry her off, hoping for the best. Her consent was not sought. As she demurred quietly and then loudly, her new family said they would ask her consent again, later when she was older, wiser, knew them enough (they hoped that she loved them enough) to take the decision (they hoped it was the 'right' one and she would choose them). They knew she was an asset to them. She would be an asset to anyone. She had many riches untapped, unexplored. She would be the envy of the world as a gem in their crown. They looked forward to polishing her. 

They paid for her education and her food. She created some resources for herself, but it was not enough to sustain her. They allowed her to stay on in her home town (not that she was going to be a willing resident of theirs if they had pushed, anyway). They also paid for guards to protect her. Well they said protect, she said restrict. You get the point. She grew into a slightly difficult person with more contradictions and complexities than most.

She had a rental. It was more like a hovel to many others, but to her it was her kingdom. She had to share it with others and she cleverly ousted a few from the place supposedly to make more room for herself. The family heard of this and protested. Said she was unwilling to settle in the HUGE mansion they had saying she wanted a small place and then obviously was showing off her aspirations for a larger place. Why did she not join them? Together they could be happy. She again objected. She said she was sure they were not bad, but she was not sure that they were good for her.

She would rather severe ties if they needed her to stay in the family mansion. She was happy with her hovel. She would carry their name, but she wanted to lead her own life. Without their interference.

She had friends. Some friends the family did not like and they curtailed her friendships. She accepted the limitations with some reluctance. She was not sure the family was not right. But she resented being told what to do.

Periodically, there were talks between her and the family. They insisted she belonged with them in their space, she resisted the inclusion. She termed it intrusion. She had ambitions. The family said they could help her fulfill them. She wanted, oh how she yearned! But she was afraid of being stripped of her identity. She saw the family as good to many. But she also saw how they treated the disobedient within them. The ones with contrary opinions who voiced them vociferously. She had so many, many such contrary opinions. And she did not want to be beaten up. She came to think 'help' was a 'bribe' to get her to accept the family. She was not sure the family would stay that good to her once she became theirs wholly. She wanted to retain her semi-independence.

Now the family was getting impatient. They had waited years. They had expended resources on her. They had shown how tolerant they were, how broadminded. But she just was not seeing. She refused to see.

They decided she had to be made to see. They took over her rental agreement. They took her passport away. They blocked her bank accounts. They took away her cell phone. They ensured she had no resource she could tap into. They locked her down and then told her you are ours. We have done so much for you, high time you learnt your place. We will do well by you, but you need to live by our terms. Learn to accept. Rejoice. 

The story ends here for now. It is for each of us to decide if the family or the girl are in the wrong or in the right. What would you do if you were that girl? What would have been your advise to the family?

What if the girl's name were Kashmir? Does your answer change? 

— Written on 11 August 2019.

— My post on 'At Crossroads' led to some debate on FB in public and much more on private chats and messages. My post was also tagged as 'against community standards'. :) Some threatening messages of how I need to lose my Indian citizenship and perhaps I am a Pakistani at heart also followed. All on messenger or DMs rather than on the public posts.

It led me to question why is it that we do not want to hear a contrary opinion? I reread How to Get Power on TED Ideas and the idea of story stuck me anew. This story had already been brewing in my mind as a metaphor. But now I decided to not just let it roam the empty hallways in my mind and pen it down. Hence this post. 

Painting-Poesy #6 At Crossroads

The past few days I have tried, 

As I failed, I have cried. 

I tried to understand the rejoice, 

I failed to understand the choice.

The majority celebrates, I am told,

A minority is all that objects, does not let go.

I have heard this often in my life:

When being raped is passed off as a duty of a wife, 

When being beaten up toughens up a child

When being domesticated is better for a creature of the wild.

A woman's desires are suppressed, the majority is happy,

An artist's dreams are repressed, the majority is happy,

A state's existence wiped out, the majority is happy,

Democracy bows to authority, the majority is happy. 

Dissent has been vilified, 

Questions have been nullified , 

Joys have danced on fears, 

There has been little sympathy for tears. 

Consent: how do we practice it? 

Does 'right' supercede it? 

Do to 'power' we accede it? 

Can only the 'majority' exercise it? 

We have often spoken up, spoken against, 

It may take time but dialogue is the way, 

Said peace leaders when they held sway. 

Even their dissenters they allowed space. 

But new times are here, 

It is aggression that does steer, 

A contrary voice is shouted down, 

All that is venerated is one with the crown. 

I have tried, tried really hard

To understand the facts and the farce

But I fail to see how secrecy

And muffling voices can be a democracy.

The 'majority' opinion counts, no doubt,

But do we then contrary opinions just oust?

#Kashmir #India #Democracy #Consent

- Written on 9 August 2019.

- For many days the idea of democracy as seen through the lens of what has been happening with J&K and Article 370 has been on my mind as I grappled to understand what was unfolding and how this could come to be. 

As I stated in a tweet: I have faith in India even when I have little belief in the political leadership.

But around the world as more and more such incidents occur, the idea of democracy needs revisiting.

Posted first on Facebook and Instagram on 9 August 2019.

Taleem Kabul (कबूल)

Taleem Kabul

No excuse. How can there be?
Children cannot be made terrorism's casualty.
One can argue, debate, hold a contrary position,
But violence cannot, should not, be a solution.

'No matter what we will be educated'
Says a post of a student frustrated
By attacks in his country
Yet won over by a child's piety
As the child wounded clutches his book
One can only with wonder and hope at the child look.

Another has posted a child's face dripping with blood,
Anger, pity, worry all through one's being flood.
Yet another says a friend has died
What words of comfort can suffice?

In a class I heard recently this question
'What is there to know?'
There is misery and terror, so much emotion
But is this worth knowing? A resounding NO.

Children know this today unfortunately,
We fail as adults to protect them from tragedy,
We fail to create a constructive reality
We fail as a society.

But perhaps in education lies hope,
Perhaps the next generation will not like us grope,
Perhaps they will know to not fight wars,
Perhaps they will know what is truly a just way and cause.

Perhaps they will live, thrive
And not just survive,
Perhaps they will help each other.
I hope their world will be much better.

- Written on 1 July 2019.
- Was in Kabul, Afghanistan when a bomb attack occurred on 1 July. Nearby schools were not spared. The images were graphic and heartwrenching.

Painting-Poesy #5

The inside of an ambulance smells different each time
The rides all do not have the same vibe.
The reasons are varied too
One may be coming from the hospital or towards it riding to.

The ride maybe short, just a road away,
The ride may be long with many vehicles to overtake,
The ride may have companions encouraging
Or the mood may be foul, any optimism dissuading.

The ambulance itself is a different shell
Housing all kinds of equipment to stem the death knell
Or housing just a stretcher and bench
With nothing to mask worry's stench.

The varied types of stretchers
The varied lifting devices, usually made of leathers,
The many ways to pull, to push, to shift,
So much to learn. Pray! why was this not our school's gift?

The windows or lack of do not register
Your own opinions to such extremes dance and quiver
And in the next bump they disappear,
Of life's vagaries the ride makes you an acceptor.

-Written on 21 July 2019.
- July has been a month of ambulance rides for mom. In fact, 2019 has seen us in and out of ambulances and hospitals more times than I can count.

Painting-Poesy #4

When someone makes mistakes

And is apologetic and daily self flagellates,

Refusing to move on,

Pacifying, cajoling, remonstrating begins to weigh upon.

Walking away is an option

But then the someone will cling further to the notion

That a mistake made is still unforgiven

The payment for it will last across this generation! 

Guilt is a cover that can shroud

Not just the repentant but those around.

Not that one should not feel sorry

But one mistake cannot be one's only misery! 

As we grow we make many

We learn, we repent, we forgive, we forge towards glory,

But if we wallow, stay rooted in the past,

Those loved ones around may not last.

Children are whom I look to for life lessons

So many mistakes, some tears, some smiles and all is forgiven.

While mistakes are at times repeated, progress is constant,

Each milestone is greeted by children exultant.

Look forward, not back,

Stop apologising, give back,

Mistakes do not define one

Efforts to improve make life fun.

#Guilt #Counselling #LearningFromMistakes #Forgiveness #SelfLove #BeingHuman

- Written on 16 June 2019 and Created on 6 April 2019.

- Posted on Instagram and Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory.

Painting-Poesy #3

Today, a slightly emotionally tough day, 

The first choice was always the dark side of the palatte. 

The conscious effort to choose lighter shades

Does not mean that sorrow fades,

But the end result indicates

There is light that might yet hold sway. 

In the darkest hours, the silver lining

Is not the cloud's rim, but faith in our hearts shining.

May like free birds we all fly high,

May like nature's bounty we all give joy. 

After every summer there is rain

After every winter, spring's upon us again. 

No cycle has no downside, 

No sorrow has no upside.

A friend's post reminded me of Bel Kaufman, 

"Up the Down Staircase" peppered with many a gem.

Another had earlier sent me delightful Ted Chiang's Arrival,

A third had just called to talk things trivial,

Each a signpost reminding me

Life is not all gloom and misery.

Chin up, cheer is near,

Just welcome it when you its arrival hear. :)

#Painting #Writing #Catharsis

- Written and Created on 15 June 2019.

- Posted on Instagram and Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory. 

Painting-Poesy #2

When I know I should have been working

Instead was procrastinating,

Just one more stroke, one more colour,

Just let me get this idea down on paper,

My notebook is filled with many a (false) pearl

Oystered in procrastination's shell,

My cellphone is testament to checklists

Unmarked, undone with few clicks,

Yet I procrastinate, hoping in vain,

This next one will satisfy a (non) artist's pain,

And strangely, while no beauties emerge,

My soul is at peace, as work yet again I purge.

#Procrastination #AnyExcuseWillDo #Escape #Art #PretendArtist

- Written and Created on 11 June 2019.

- Posted on Instagram and Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory. 

Painting-Poesy #1

Experiments make us stretch, feel woke, 

Just the tiniest change in the brush stroke,

Just a change in the palatte colours,

Just the idea, the thought, uncovers

New vistas, entire universes, within ourselves,

Perhaps within us reside some mischievous, magical 

elves.

#Painting #DigitalArt #Experiments #Art

- Written and Created on 7 June 2019.

- Posted on Instagram and Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory. 

Conversations in a Cab Ride :)

अच्छे तो बहुत लोग लगते हैं, इसका यह मतलब थोड़ी निकला कि जाके सबसे शादी कर लो।

(One may like many people, but it does not mean one gets married to them all). 

On my way home, stuck in quite a bit of traffic, after a haranguing time in a mini accident (no fault of my Uber driver), I heard this piece of wisdom dropped in the midst of my Uber driver, Azad, recounting his life story including a marriage he was emotionally blackmailed into by his parents when he was just 17 and his wife 16. The fact that this 8th school drop out is proud of his brothers having been able to continue with their studies, one to become an ethical hacker with a Computer Applications degree and another a pharmacist, proud that his wife is 12th pass, and was able to articulate the need for improved Govt schools in his home town area and link the education to quality of life, to self respect, to self evolution and to the job market showed how much he valued education even as he saw no way to get back into the game in the near future. The fact that he could respect his wife and admit that he would not have been the person she had chosen were she to have her opinion asked just as he would not have chosen her though she is a very nice person touched me.

As I told him at the end of the ride, his story is not a happy ending story and he laughed and agreed that it also was not a sad ending story and stated perhaps it is the average middle of the road story, I thought to myself about the many ways we talk of education that do not really take into account these realities of life.

He spoke of reservation in India, of govt schooling systems, of how the fall of the Babri Masjid intimately affected his family and how they had to move away from his hometown to protect themselves with the anti-Muslim sentiment prevalent in their area then, of how health care is not as effective still and so on.

Important topics all. A personalised yet nuanced understanding of the contexts he was speaking about, an ability to counter my arguments with his own examples without putting me down - all struck me, but the lines he said at the fag end of the ride somehow are the ones that resonated with me. Those and his intention to never force his little girl to ever go through a marriage that she had not wholeheartedly desired.

"सही marriage, madamji, वही होता है जहाँ आपस में समझ हो - husband अपनी Mrs ko समझे और wife अपने husband को। तभी सही बुरे वक्त में शादी टिकती है, वरना दो लोग जिंदगी में साथ चलते हैं, साथ रहते हैं पर वो शादी शादी नहीं होती"

(A true marriage is one in which there is mutual understanding - a husband understands his wife and she her husband. That is when the marriage stands the test of hard times, otherwise two people are just walking, living together, but it is not a marriage.) 

I really liked how he described schooling and what he thought of schools and language mediums and the reasons for poor literacy rate among Muslims in India. I did not agree with all his points, but that does not make his views invalid. Actually they become more interesting. Will need to research a bit more though on some of the points he raised. Maybe another post. 

 #cabrides #lifelessonsinconversations :)

- Written on 31 May 2019.

- Posted on  Facebook. 

- Self Explanatory. 

Election Results - 2019

D-Day looms and it feels my country

Is still itself sculpting

In the midst of identity politics, finding its own identity,

In the midst of chaos, developing, organising,

Somehow the flag flying proud and high in the university,

Made me realise anew my faith that no matter what, India will continue to be.

To be the hope for millions to rise to prosperity,

To be the beacon for millions to celebrate diversity,

To be the light for millions for peace and unity,

Even the fights are a celebration of variety.

Yes, I believe India will continue to be.

An idea, a faith, a dream, a reality.  

- Written on 22 May 2019. 

- Posted on Facebook. 

- Election results were to be announced 23 May 2019.

Happy Woman's Day - 2019

Women be strong,

Listen not to litanies wrong.

Obedience is not always a virtue

It is not selfishness to be to YOUR SELF true.

Walk towards what you want

And your talents do flaunt.

Fight for yourself not just others

Relax, kick back, why always be multitaskers? 

First give to yourself, believe you deserve,

The world needs YOU, not a martyr. 

You exist, you are precious. 

Celebrate not just today, but every moment, every year as felicitious. 

Happy Women's Day, today and every day. 

To everyone, because we need Gender Equality, not just a special day party :)

- Written on 8 March 2019.

- Posted first on Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory. 

That's so Foolish! - Out of the Mouth of Kids

That's so Foolish! - Out of the Mouth of Kids

Yesterday, as I was talking to my Uber driver finding his way to my location, I was also reading a poster, when I felt a tug on my dress. I looked down and this young kid (about 6 years of age) spoke to me:

Child: Are you calling them?

She was pointing to the poster and with no pause for breath, even as I began to shake my head and say no, continued.

Child: Because that is so foolish! They are just right inside. (Ponting to a building).

As she paused, looking at me with mild exasperation at my foolishness, I meekly submitted that I had been talking to my Uber driver.

She nodded her head wisely and proceeded to ask if I liked exercising (I had been looking at a Gym poster, outside a gymkhana at that, after all 😉). I shook my head and said I preferred sleeping and asked her what she liked to do.

We had a fascinating conversation jumping from topic to topic as she waited for her parents to pick her up and her friends had their own conversations around us with other parents milling about. As the 10 minutes passed in a jiffy, I also had a parallel track running in my head as the dusk light faded and the dim street lights slowly turned on.

Should I tell her to not talk to strangers so easily? Should I warn her to not separate so far from her friends? Should I question the other adults not seeming to notice that the little girl had wandered to me near enough to raise an alarm should it be needed, yet not really secure from nefarious intentions should I have them?

Yet was it fair to instill this fear in the child? I think she enjoyed our conversation as she questioned me on my likes and occupation and sermonised me about how I should deal with my students. I certainly did enjoy our conversation. Should I deprive myself and others like me the joys of having a child talk to them because the world can be a cruel place? Or should we as adults just be more vigilant and create more safe spaces? Even when it seems impossible to do so?

I have been pondering about this since then and I do not know the answer to this. Surely a child should feel safe to approach a stranger to share her delightful wisdom? But is it not better to be safe than sorry?

As my Uber driver and her parents arrived, I walked away exchanging pleasantries with the parents. I could hear them jokingly, lightly asking her why she was bent on walking away from friends and talking to a stranger and her vehemently defending her decision as a helpful one. She also argued that poor me had no one but a phone to talk to and I might have been foolishly talking into the phone to enquire about details than walk into the gymkhana. 😉

I am still thinking was I right to bite my tongue and not caution her? We often talk of children learning better through exploration, seeking information by themselves, helping others in an effort to understand the unknown. How then can we deny them spontaneous interactions with strangers that they architect themselves? And yet...

- Written on 9 Feb 2019.

- Posted on Facebook first. This is just for repository purposes :) 

- Self Explanatory. 

Kochi Trip - April 2019

As the Uber zips through the lanes of cars,
I look out at this city I have come to love.
Memories zip by as fast as the events,
So many to remember, relish, replay, recast even.
Two nieces and a nephew who make us laugh aloud,
Stubborn, affectionate, outgoing, they do us proud.
Cousins, sisters born
But as friends I do them now count.
More and more members warmly greet,
A gathering of this many no mean feat.
Music, laughter, and so much food,
The very best combo for times good.
Friends and family time is a treat,
Worth many, many a repeat,
Worth any effort
To realise the worth
Of shared values despite many a difference,
Of knowing the bond survives across generations.
To many more such meetings and soon,
For now I relive being over the moon.

- Written on 29 Apri 2019.
- A nephew's poonal was 28-29 April and this was one huge family meet. One gifting so many a cherished moment.

Why Friends Meet

When you are down in the dumps
It helps to have friends.

The ones who know what you feel,
And ones who still have your layers to peel.
The ones who always have your back,
And the ones you simply smile at.

They are all fun as you lose your worries
In the news, the gossip, the good ole days memories.
You make more memories too,
The ones that lend you vigour anew.

The hugs, the smiles, the quiet asides,
Are ever worth the travelled miles,
Are ever worth rejuggled times,
Are ever worth 'Unchecked To-Dos' and such crimes.

The new friends you make,
The new perspectives you gain,
The laughter, the fun, the eats
This is why friends need meet.

- Written on 30 December 2018.
- Self-explanatory. 

Thank You Blood Donors!

A loved one for 11 days in the ICU,
With kidney and heart problems, diabetes, gangrene, what have you,
7 different teams of doctors working on her case,
Everything slips by in a daze.

One hopes for the best, but fears always loom,
As the graphs spike and plummet, there is so much gloom:
12 units of blood and counting,
Multiple tests that lead to just the next thing.

More questions, fewer answers,
The game called life requires trust:
Trust in strangers to do their best,
Trust that what does the trick is rest,
Trust that doctors know what they are doing,
Trust that the medicines and surgeries are working.

Hospitals teach you so much each time,
There are more days yet to learn lessons prime.
For now, we take a deep breath and recharge,
With gratitude for all who gave blood that helped her death thwart.

~Anusha Ramanathan

#BloodDonation #Gratitude #KindStrangers

Mayank Mrinal Akanksha Sharma Kritarth Chaudhary Thank you so very much. And all the other unknowns and non Facebook friends too. The road to recovery would not have been possible without you.

- As posted on Facebook on 6 Jan 2019.
- Written on 6 Jan 2019.
- Self Explanatory  (Mom unwell). 

Goodbye 2018, Wecome 2019

Wish you all a wonderful 2019!

For the annual torture, read ahead if you will. I have definitely NOT been exhaustive in my recollection of 2018 events. There are just so very many.... 😱🤔😂

Goodbye 2018, Welcome 2019 :) 

2018 you have been tumultuous,
You have stressed us and stretched us,
In an era of memories outsourced to Google,
With moments and emotions too many to juggle.

Disasters from Kerala floods to Indonesian quakes,
From Hurricane Michael to the ongoing Syrian outrage,
From Californian fires to Indonesia's second tsunami
From tax benefits for the rich to a sluggish worldwide economy,
From Brexit's tragicomedy to Paris' Yellow Vest protestors,
From the Putin-Trump nexus, to Saudi's blatant Khashoggi murder,
From climate change naysayers to migration haters,
From gun violence to MeToo complaints increase
From the Trump-Kim love affair to Sridevi's decease.

Yet there have been ups galore
The kind that become folklore.
From Mary Kom to Hima Das, to Harmanpreet to Phogat to Manika to Sindhu,
The women in Indian sports shone this year too.
Science also won India glory,
The thinnest material from Gandhinagar IIT.
The Congress showed it is not yet out,
As it did in 2018 end the BJP rout.
India won the Champions of the Earth Award at the UN
Our country is the second best place for Unicorns (startups) to burgeon.
100 years since Armistice saw the world united
As did March for Our Lives, the biggest event to be student-led.
India decriminalised homosexuality,
And in Canada one can use cannabis legally.

Some events I know not how to react to:
The Sabrimala saga with so much ado,
The Patel Statue of Unity admist such dire poverty,
The weddings such as the extravaganza by Ambani
All while lakhs of farmers are dying
And education and health Indians are lacking.
Imran Khan's rebuff from Modi and his cronies,
Or China's gene-edited twin babies.

So much to let go, so much to take in,
So very much more somewhat forgotten:
2018 what a year you have been
With messages ranging from isolation to unity.

May 2019 be an oasis of calm and peace
May rationale win, may wisdom be appeased,
May emotions be positive and love triumph,
May divisions give way to unity's cries,
May the plenty we have be multiplied,
May everyone's dreams be realised,
May justice be served, may truth emerge,
May the youth find their voices and be heard.
May we all work to celebrate nature and its beauty,
May the economy too celebrate the values of humanity.
May globalism and oneness defeat isolationism,
May equality for all be made most welcome.

Happy 2019 everyone!

- Written on 31 December 2018.
- Self explanatory.