4/28/2009
4/24/2009
Spoken words, written words, lyrics set to tune, nuances and the unwritten. Words have an ability to touch the naked soul, sometimes coccooning and soothing, sometimes slashing and piercing. Who loaded the alphabet with infinite meaning and power? Time?
I have been lucky to have had attended Bertie's drama and modern poetry classes. Nothing before and nothing since has measured up. I have heard a pin drop and bounce on the floor before it finally found the perfect inertia.
Funnily enough, the word 'word' rolls off my tongue vague, dull and ugly. 'Mot' is no better..frenchifying does not make an ugly word glamorous for a change, ha ha.
To the memory of dreamy days spent studying poetry then!
"Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning."
I have been lucky to have had attended Bertie's drama and modern poetry classes. Nothing before and nothing since has measured up. I have heard a pin drop and bounce on the floor before it finally found the perfect inertia.
Funnily enough, the word 'word' rolls off my tongue vague, dull and ugly. 'Mot' is no better..frenchifying does not make an ugly word glamorous for a change, ha ha.
To the memory of dreamy days spent studying poetry then!
"Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning."
4/21/2009
EARTH DAY 2009
My new year's resolution usually fizzles out just as the year ceases to be quite so new. It dies out even before I stop muddling up the date. Which brings me to my eco-friendly resolves, each one of them. Poor things.
It is Earth Day tomorrow. The day we promise not to traumatize mother earth again. To choose cars responsibly. To walk more. To switch off anything that can be switched off after use. To waste not. To recycle.
Have any of you tried to carry a cloth bag, Mumbai style, to the supermarket? I have. And felt like a total idiot. Not just that, the minute I righteously whipped out my bag at the check-out counter, I felt ten pairs of staring eyes with the unspoken accusation "hot fingers!". To the more genteel of you, this means shoplifter :-).
And then of course there is the matter of packaging. My biscottis come in a plastic wrap sealed paper carton. Each biscotti is individually wrapped for convenience and freshness. Poor mother earth. I am expected to collect every scrap of plastic and save it for recycling. Ha! Like I have the time! Bet half of you would not care either. So the only true solution would be to cut down on packaging! My contribution would be to buy biscotti sold without triple wrapping.
Tonight I am going to dream of disposable plastic bottles. It will, obviously, be a nightmare. Since I will be dreaming anyway, I will find a way to live without them.
It is Earth Day tomorrow. The day we promise not to traumatize mother earth again. To choose cars responsibly. To walk more. To switch off anything that can be switched off after use. To waste not. To recycle.
Have any of you tried to carry a cloth bag, Mumbai style, to the supermarket? I have. And felt like a total idiot. Not just that, the minute I righteously whipped out my bag at the check-out counter, I felt ten pairs of staring eyes with the unspoken accusation "hot fingers!". To the more genteel of you, this means shoplifter :-).
And then of course there is the matter of packaging. My biscottis come in a plastic wrap sealed paper carton. Each biscotti is individually wrapped for convenience and freshness. Poor mother earth. I am expected to collect every scrap of plastic and save it for recycling. Ha! Like I have the time! Bet half of you would not care either. So the only true solution would be to cut down on packaging! My contribution would be to buy biscotti sold without triple wrapping.
Tonight I am going to dream of disposable plastic bottles. It will, obviously, be a nightmare. Since I will be dreaming anyway, I will find a way to live without them.
4/18/2009
Anorexic, Vegan, Vegetarian or Omnivore?
This one is a minefield and I can see some of you rolling up those sleeves even as I put down a few random and ticklish thoughts.
I was brought up as a meat and fish eater by my parents. A few incidents moulded my eating habits as I grew up. One day someone came to our home with a gift of freshly caught fish. I was probably 13 or 14 years old and quite the mommy's helper. Mommy wasn't home. I decided to keep the live fish 'fresh' by letting it swim around in a bucket of water. A couple of hours later, I was wondering if it would be a nice surprise to cook lunch before my mother got home. Only then did I realize that 'lunch' was merrily swimming circles in the bucket. I have no recollection of lunch but I certainly did not kill, much less eat the unfortunate creature! But the incident did trigger off a subconscious chain of thoughts. Disturbing.
If live and let live is a maxim, then eat and let eat is a corollary. To those of you who are horrified at meat eating cultures, all I can say as plants are living, breathing, reproducing,God's creatures too. They are different from us. So are hens, pigs, snails and frogs. I remember a girl from college who regularly used raw egg in her hair for conditioning every Sunday. The slime would gross me out everytime, not to mention the stench. She was very very righteously vegetarian, never passing up a chance to tell us that our food habits made us no better than beasts.
For those of you who tell me to give up my dead birds in favor of dairy produce, ha ha, I have a vivid visual. Imagine milk, fresh,creamy frothy and steaming. Coming out of the cow(unless you have more exotic sources :-)). Certainly not the carton or bottle you pour it out of. Now, as a rational vegetarian, you do realize that it a different cow each time, maybe multiple cows. I rest my case here. The option then, is to turn vegan.
Finding something to eat at a restaurant is difficult enough if one cannot have meat,poultry, seafood, fish, egg and other animal products like shortening. Now imagine taking dairy off your list too. I have visions of crunchy leaves and dandelion greens. Gourmand's nightmare!
I was brought up as a meat and fish eater by my parents. A few incidents moulded my eating habits as I grew up. One day someone came to our home with a gift of freshly caught fish. I was probably 13 or 14 years old and quite the mommy's helper. Mommy wasn't home. I decided to keep the live fish 'fresh' by letting it swim around in a bucket of water. A couple of hours later, I was wondering if it would be a nice surprise to cook lunch before my mother got home. Only then did I realize that 'lunch' was merrily swimming circles in the bucket. I have no recollection of lunch but I certainly did not kill, much less eat the unfortunate creature! But the incident did trigger off a subconscious chain of thoughts. Disturbing.
If live and let live is a maxim, then eat and let eat is a corollary. To those of you who are horrified at meat eating cultures, all I can say as plants are living, breathing, reproducing,God's creatures too. They are different from us. So are hens, pigs, snails and frogs. I remember a girl from college who regularly used raw egg in her hair for conditioning every Sunday. The slime would gross me out everytime, not to mention the stench. She was very very righteously vegetarian, never passing up a chance to tell us that our food habits made us no better than beasts.
For those of you who tell me to give up my dead birds in favor of dairy produce, ha ha, I have a vivid visual. Imagine milk, fresh,creamy frothy and steaming. Coming out of the cow(unless you have more exotic sources :-)). Certainly not the carton or bottle you pour it out of. Now, as a rational vegetarian, you do realize that it a different cow each time, maybe multiple cows. I rest my case here. The option then, is to turn vegan.
Finding something to eat at a restaurant is difficult enough if one cannot have meat,poultry, seafood, fish, egg and other animal products like shortening. Now imagine taking dairy off your list too. I have visions of crunchy leaves and dandelion greens. Gourmand's nightmare!
4/16/2009
Beloved fellow mothers..
It has been a crazy day. And it is on crazy days that I stick my neck out to add to the mayhem.As Spongebob laughs his silly repetitive laugh on the dvd being watched for the trillionth time by my desperately snacking daughter, my thoughts stray from one listless point to the other, occasionally shutting off between stints.
Oh for a glass of chilled Riesling! My neck and shoulder have frozen into a single mass of pain and the nagging thought that just won't go away is that I have to pop down to the store for onions and tomato paste. Good God. When did my mind get replaced by a grocery list?!
More if I survive the night folks..the Riesling has to wait..I have to drive to the store and back, remember?
Oh for a glass of chilled Riesling! My neck and shoulder have frozen into a single mass of pain and the nagging thought that just won't go away is that I have to pop down to the store for onions and tomato paste. Good God. When did my mind get replaced by a grocery list?!
More if I survive the night folks..the Riesling has to wait..I have to drive to the store and back, remember?
4/15/2009
Peeking over the edge
If I told you that I wanted to be pulled out to sea and drown in bliss, would you think I was manic-depressive...or just unnecessarily dramatic? Would you miss the beauty of it then? The thought of it is mind-blowing, like falling into the universe, an orphan speck.
I used to love the Irish poets for their intensity… but never really felt the pain. Now I do. The pain is exquisite and delicious in a perverse way, the emptiness like an abyss. Every now and then I look over the edge like a frightened child, with covered eyes. My abyss is a million- years- of- sadness deep. One day I will have the courage to step to the edge, look into the abyss and step back unafraid.
Asphyxia. The walls closing in, the ceiling descending. How I hate Maugham for putting it so pat in those coarse words, round pegs in square holes, or was it square pegs in round holes?
And yet I have absolute faith in God who holds my hand and guides me as I walk blindfolded. Happy to be led, while I cling to God’s pinky.
Who walled my thoughts off? Who set the limits? My mind looks for a hole in the walls, my thoughts fall like Alice, into a never ending well. Like Alice, I marvel at shelves even as I fall, fall, fall. The only thing I risk breaking at the end of my fall is my heart.
If I land downside up, does it mean I am high?
I used to love the Irish poets for their intensity… but never really felt the pain. Now I do. The pain is exquisite and delicious in a perverse way, the emptiness like an abyss. Every now and then I look over the edge like a frightened child, with covered eyes. My abyss is a million- years- of- sadness deep. One day I will have the courage to step to the edge, look into the abyss and step back unafraid.
Asphyxia. The walls closing in, the ceiling descending. How I hate Maugham for putting it so pat in those coarse words, round pegs in square holes, or was it square pegs in round holes?
And yet I have absolute faith in God who holds my hand and guides me as I walk blindfolded. Happy to be led, while I cling to God’s pinky.
Who walled my thoughts off? Who set the limits? My mind looks for a hole in the walls, my thoughts fall like Alice, into a never ending well. Like Alice, I marvel at shelves even as I fall, fall, fall. The only thing I risk breaking at the end of my fall is my heart.
If I land downside up, does it mean I am high?
4/14/2009
Parenting
Easier said than done. How does one maintain a balance and come up with the perfect finished product?
I have been accused of being a laid-back mother, not worried enough. The way I see it, my getting a stroke over my daughter's first grade class assignments, giftedness and talentedness and extra curricular activities will achieve nothing.
This is where I start, working backwards. What do I treasure most? Happiness. Given its elusive nature, what do I treasure second-best? Balance. Yes, balance in my everyday life, balance in my mind, balance in every relationship.
Assuming certain values are universal and timeless, I would like my child to be able to strike this balance when she grows up. Call it maturity, call it level-headedness, whatever. What's in a name, huh?
How do I bring up my child to be a balanced young adult..the thought of middle-school curdles my blood!
Will playing chess help my child as an adult? To think logically and take better decisions? To an extent, yes. But life is not a static chess board. From move to move chessmen change, situations change and each move is complex. Maybe the game should simply be played for the pleasure of it.
Being good at a sport will certainly help with the college tuition. But I have seen a child who was so stressed out by soccer practice and performance pressure, he starting wetting his bed afresh in 2nd grade. It is called regression..a child's way of reverting to infancy to deal with stress. Makes me wonder.
Have you ever heard and pitied a mediocre musician who has no inkling that he is off-key or that his instrument is less-than-perfectly tuned? Be kind, dear parent. All children need to be given the opportunity to bring out the best in them. Children are uncut diamonds, every single one of them. But I beg you, give them breathing space..do not force those hateful piano lessons down their throats. If you want to begin early with the notion that the child does not know any better, at least get a candid opinion from the teacher. There is no room for ostriches in parenting.
A last word..walking to school to save fuel on Earth Day is very nice in principle. But it would send a clearer message with longer lasting impact if we would also ask them to turn off the bathroom lights after brushing, don't you think?
My little brat often lectures me with "reduce, re-use, recycle"..I am trying my damned best to incorporate this principle into our everyday lives so her message has meaning and value.
As for the rest, time will tell.
I have been accused of being a laid-back mother, not worried enough. The way I see it, my getting a stroke over my daughter's first grade class assignments, giftedness and talentedness and extra curricular activities will achieve nothing.
This is where I start, working backwards. What do I treasure most? Happiness. Given its elusive nature, what do I treasure second-best? Balance. Yes, balance in my everyday life, balance in my mind, balance in every relationship.
Assuming certain values are universal and timeless, I would like my child to be able to strike this balance when she grows up. Call it maturity, call it level-headedness, whatever. What's in a name, huh?
How do I bring up my child to be a balanced young adult..the thought of middle-school curdles my blood!
Will playing chess help my child as an adult? To think logically and take better decisions? To an extent, yes. But life is not a static chess board. From move to move chessmen change, situations change and each move is complex. Maybe the game should simply be played for the pleasure of it.
Being good at a sport will certainly help with the college tuition. But I have seen a child who was so stressed out by soccer practice and performance pressure, he starting wetting his bed afresh in 2nd grade. It is called regression..a child's way of reverting to infancy to deal with stress. Makes me wonder.
Have you ever heard and pitied a mediocre musician who has no inkling that he is off-key or that his instrument is less-than-perfectly tuned? Be kind, dear parent. All children need to be given the opportunity to bring out the best in them. Children are uncut diamonds, every single one of them. But I beg you, give them breathing space..do not force those hateful piano lessons down their throats. If you want to begin early with the notion that the child does not know any better, at least get a candid opinion from the teacher. There is no room for ostriches in parenting.
A last word..walking to school to save fuel on Earth Day is very nice in principle. But it would send a clearer message with longer lasting impact if we would also ask them to turn off the bathroom lights after brushing, don't you think?
My little brat often lectures me with "reduce, re-use, recycle"..I am trying my damned best to incorporate this principle into our everyday lives so her message has meaning and value.
As for the rest, time will tell.
4/13/2009
To my fellow sun-worshippers
Bright hard sunshine filters through the undulating green mosaic canopy. Lighting up the drowsy afternoon. Voices filter through the hazy scented air. Slow ceiling fan chasing lazy bugs.
Lovely sunshine, so lifelike. Hard, glittering and beautiful.
Who cares for sunset? Do sunsets exist at all? Who has time for sunset? Sunshine lasts forever, or does it not?
I want to stand in the sun, to absorb its gold. To bake and blister. Burnt copper. Would I risk so much pain for a few paltry rays of gold? Maybe I would. Just to learn the sun’s secret of eternal beauty and youth.
Hungry sunshine desiccates the earth. It does not spare the desert, does it? How unfeeling can one get? My parched plants must be withering away. Merciless sun, bouncing gleefully off the wounded, scorched earth. And you say women are hard!
The green canopy dances in the sunny afternoon breeze. Little puddles ripple as playful sunshine brings them to life. Glorious sunshine, giver of life. Coming down from the heavens on a golden chariot drawn by seven celestial horses. I wish you could take me away.
Lovely sunshine, so lifelike. Hard, glittering and beautiful.
Who cares for sunset? Do sunsets exist at all? Who has time for sunset? Sunshine lasts forever, or does it not?
I want to stand in the sun, to absorb its gold. To bake and blister. Burnt copper. Would I risk so much pain for a few paltry rays of gold? Maybe I would. Just to learn the sun’s secret of eternal beauty and youth.
Hungry sunshine desiccates the earth. It does not spare the desert, does it? How unfeeling can one get? My parched plants must be withering away. Merciless sun, bouncing gleefully off the wounded, scorched earth. And you say women are hard!
The green canopy dances in the sunny afternoon breeze. Little puddles ripple as playful sunshine brings them to life. Glorious sunshine, giver of life. Coming down from the heavens on a golden chariot drawn by seven celestial horses. I wish you could take me away.
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