(Un)Interrupted Rain

We're not used to sunsets at 5.30 are we?
We're not used to unannounced rains that come interrupting
right into pleasant temperatures of November evenings.
That's just how the weather is right now.

Like(un)wise (pun intended) We're not, in general accustomed to anything more than the seasonal changes.
But interruptions do happen when ur having a suspiciously smooth ride, whether u like it or not, like the interrupting November rain...
that sets u back.

And the only way to not get stuck in the moment is to have one thing loudest and clearest---

"DONT SWEAT THE SMALL STUFF and its all small stuff".

By the way, that's a nice book i've just begun to read...

Chords of ingenuity & pride of being U

I never really gave a second thought to listening to Kannada music from around today's times.
But
Swarathma's number- ee bhoomi dispelled all assumptions.

Another song that i ( even u) can instantly relate to jaana kahan hai mujhe is one of my favorites.

Plug in to Swarathma :) -- humble music from the chords of ingenuity and pride of being one's real self.

Wear Sunscreen

Bazz Luhrrman says so
And the doctor too.

Wear SPF 15- whether u go out in the sun or not, the sun rays penetrate ur skin.

So, wear sunscreen.

The Reason

The emptiness within cannot be without reason.
The nomadic veins dont rush blood in search for serene pastures without reason.
The question of life after death cannot be without reason.
The question of truth cannot be without reason.
This life cannot be without reason.

Rain Drops

They somehow feel good, cause they come from up above?
Or is it the slight splitter -splatter sound in the way it falls?
Or is it that lovely puddle u can just jump into.....?

I dont know what it is. But, raindrops are special cos they make u feel like a kid.

But, as u grow older u tend to see the germs in the puddle of water u'd otherwise hop-skip n jump into.
Ur weary of wetting urself in the rain- fearing that nose-run n sore throat.
N u really wudnt want to go with a rain-splashed-attire for a formal presentation.

I think its with growing up that I have a problem with. But, can u really have a problem with something u have no control over? That thing called time? Nope.

:( am sad

i want to always play in the rain, and jump into the puddle o'rain water even when am barely able to walk- picture me faltering at every step trying to hold onto the walking stick n with an idea running behind those wrinkles of jumping into the puddle (that would straight set me on the funeral pyre).

so, as for now i'll settle with the sad thought of atrophy and take joy in the rain.
will figure out how to enjoy the rain when am m older n wiser, in the mean time.

Cavernous Cry

Republishing something i wrote two years back

Distant, untrodded virgin lands teasingly beckon the wanderlust bug to its unfathomable treasures.
The sensory touch of forest leaves…
The sight of green hues contouring blue skies tempt the aspiring nomad…
The instance where only time and space exist,
Wafts the drifter to the journey which lives its destination every moment.

It stirs, in my soul, an aching desperation to refrain from the mundaneness of this
solitary confinement.

"We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office."
-Aesop

Sleepy

Am quite sleepy.Which is neither being asleep, nor being awake.
And given that choice I'd happily choose the former.
Yawns.

Haikuesque

Haikus may not be meant to be rhyming. But thanks to freedom of expression (and poetic license :p) here's a haikuesque-style- 17 -syllabled rhyme.

Its been a while for a while
I sat thinking on an isle
Life's agile

Just posted two unposted posts - Aditya & Nagarpanchmi

Nagpanchmi

So my grandma handed over a box of “Thambhit” laddus, some green bangles, a halved dry coconut, pan and beetlenuts, a saree and ofcourse kunkma to my mother with a puritan’s touch to tradition observed on ‘Nagarapanchmi’, the festival of the Lord of snakes, Lord Shiva.

I sat across ajji, who with much zeal had made the laddus, and asked her what gave her the verve to make them. (In the monotonous humdrum of todays mundaneness, conforming to these traditions seems more than just a time-consuming elaborate effort to most. One just doesn’t have the ‘verve’ to do it anymore.

‘So what is this festival all about?’ I ask ajji and she nonchalantly says “nagpanchmi andre nagara havina puje madodu” translated from Kannada that means worshipping the Lord of snakes aka Lord Shiva. Sounds simple?

Celebrated with special gusto in North Karnataka and interior Maharashtra in mid-rainy season, Nagarpanchmi is an elaborate five-day celebration of life. The festivities commence with crunches, munches and special lunches. Call it ‘peth pooja’. I would without a doubt say that’s a part of every Indian festival. But, what’s different about Nagpanchmi (apart from the festival-specific food) is the 180 degrees swing play.

Donning new clothes, adorned in new jewels and fragrant jasmine garlands in the long plaits, ajji, her cousins and comrades, escorted by maids, took to the game of ‘sway and catch the coconuts’. They had to stand on ropes tied to perennial trees and swing a substantial 180 degree up in the air to catch the dry-coconut garlands and bring them back. And all this in the farms, with that shimmer of greenery, glint of sunshine and wind that carried you away with the sways to a happier place.

‘It was so much excitement’ ajji says concluding her fleeting recount of Nagarpanchmi, with a resounding laughter reminiscent of the mirthful bygone years.

Aditya

What else did I expect to find in the paedatric surgery ward other than heartrending wails and teary-eyed babies? Nothing really.

There came this grandmother who tersely said to the tiny 4 year old-something brat ‘Aditya come here and sit with me’.

Children solicit conversations with their mischief, smart observations or with just their cute faces and doleful eyes. So we got to know this Aditya who wants to be a Superman when he grows up cause he wants to ‘yelp’ people.

‘Seethamma, please come here’ called out a patient’s mother. So, somebody said her name’s not Seethamma its Narasamma. After a momentary lapse of deep thought, Aditya confidently said with his baby twang, beaming with intelligence- ‘Here, everybody is ‘Nurseamma’ the whole ward was smiling for a change.

What lateral thinking I thought!!

:)

Gimmicks

Friendship day, mother's day, father's day, brother's day, sister's day, doctor's day, valentine's day- where have all these day's come from!?

These revenue generating tricks have tricked most people at the emotional nut bolt really well- why else would u have hazaar messages wishing u happy friendship day (some as plain as that and some entailing elaborate analogies).

Friendship is something we live each day and that IS the real celebration.

The sunny side to it all is- there are those friends who dont message/mail/call in a long time. But will not forget to forward a 'happy friendship day' wish :p

PS in retrospect:
When I/we was/were a kid- there was just Teacher's day where we danced for our teachers and likewise they did for us on Children's day.

And... the most beautiful song...

Annie's Song by John Denver. The song is beautiful beyond words- its complete.

:)

Whatever happpens, happens for a reason, and more often than not, for the best.

Eye of the Tiger

The song that gets me back to life when it slumps me down...


Risin' up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive

So many times, it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger

Face to face, out in the heat
Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry
They stack the odds, till we take to the street
For the kill with the skill to survive

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger

Risin' up, straight to the top
Had the guts, got the glory
Went the distance, now I'm not gonna stop
Just a man and his will to survive

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger

The eye of the tiger
The eye of the tiger
The eye of the tiger

In your memory, Jasma

October walks were beautiful in those summer hols. The sky splashed colors as the sun dipped into the ocean- resplendant oranges, pinks that mixed with the blue skies etching a memory of those colors, conversations and walks. Those colors draw me to a place we all often go to; take solace in- yesteryears.

What made those walks even more cherishable was next door neighbour, our pal from Hyderabad- Jasma. She was one of those that was coy and silent until you got to see the wacky side of her. She was one of those friends that you feel in hand-in-glove with- in times of mischief, in times of distress.

October ran out. Jasma moved to another city. Something terrible her mother had done. And Jasma was ashamed about. There was no trace of Jasma.

She once called my sis and said- " Am dying Anu. Pls dont be angry with me. Dont keep the phone." The receptionist described the 'weird' call to my sis. She left no numbers to call back. There was just no way to trace her.

After a few months, Mayi- her maid came to tell us Jasma was no more. She had died of cancer.

I cannot come to terms that I never could meet her for that one LAST time.
And tell her she was pure and divine. That we LOVED her. We still do.

Its happened to me more than once. Am sure its happened to you.
That a glance has said more than words, in an instant.

A constant feat

Proving one's worth is a never-ending feat.

(A professor from college said in a marketing class " You're as good as your lst sale, as good as your last month")

So, if you're mistaken you got to prove yourself to your first job, first love, parents and friends- you're wrong.

Its for all of life.

A journey has begun