...... and here it is, one of the sights that warms my non-vegetarian heart :)
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Hell's Chicken
Well, I'm back for a month-long sojourn in the sandlands, and quite determined to capture slices of life this time round (as best as I can manage without being clobbered by my camera-weary family). Stepped out to pick up some good ol' Lebanese food last night......
...... and here it is, one of the sights that warms my non-vegetarian heart :)
...... and here it is, one of the sights that warms my non-vegetarian heart :)
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Monday, August 04, 2008
Book Tagged
At long last my Internet troubles have been resolved, and what do I find when I rejoin the blogging world???
My very first TAG, courtesy of Reflections. So, without much further ado, here are the Rules:
1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you really love (and strikethrough the ones you hate!).
4) Reprint this list in your own blog.
----------
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Naboko
v63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas (children's version.....does that count???)
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnights Children – Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte's Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - quite a few of them, though I have to say I prefer Hercule Poirot.
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
My Score - a paltry 10/100. I am a voracious reader, but usually of the romance novel and action-packed thrillers a la Clive Cussler with the occassional spiritual lift from Paulo Coelho, Robin Sharma and the like. My forays into "classic" literature have been few and far between, the last one being a four-day immersion into One Hundred Years of Solitude about a month ago. Brilliantly written, but quite disturbing......I have only just shaken off the after-effects. Catcher in the Rye is next on my list, but I'm in no hurry to pick it up.
In the meanwhile, I tag:
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Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Importance of Imagination
In the continuing quirks of the blogosphere, I came across a post of another Pottermaniac (yes, if I haven’t ever mentioned it here before, let me do so now…..I am a diehard Harry Potter fan!!!). In this post, the blogger includes J. K. Rowling’s recent speech at Harvard’s 2008 commencement ceremony. It is a self-deprecatingly humourous and humble discourse titled ‘The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and The Importance of Imagination’.
What really grabbed me was Rowling’s impassioned advocation of imagination. Defining the term more broadly than its usual meaning, she says, “Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.”
She then goes on to share some heartrending incidents from when she worked for Amnesty International, a time that she describes as “one of the greatest formative experiences” of her life. At Amnesty, she witnessed both the incredible evilness, but more importantly, the tremendous goodness of humanity towards humanity; a goodness which is possible because we can imagine what it would feel like to be persecuted and tortured, and therefore empathise with those who have actually undergone such brutalities, and therefore act..... act in whatever way possible with our talents and abilities to prevent such horrible crimes against humanity.
Rowling’s audience of Harvard’s graduating class of 2008 certainly have more talent and ability than most of us, and will assuredly hold important places in their societies. To these shapers of tomorrow, she asks that they use their power to fight for the powerless, because “We do not need magic to change the world, we carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.”
I was so deeply moved by these words that I had to pass it on immediately to family and friends for one, simply because it is an inspirational message, and two, because we could all use a reminder now and then that we each have a moral responsibility to lend a helping hand to those lesser privileged than us in whatever way we can.
I was also curious to see how the speech had been received and so, came across this article on NPR. While most of the Harvard seniors were blown away by Rowling, some were less than impressed. It was interesting to see the reasons why some people took objection:
“…we’re Harvard….we should be able to get anyone….we’re settling here.”
“They should have picked a leader to speak…not a children’s writer.” And so on.
Here are people to whom appearances matter much more than the message, people so full of their own importance that the importance of imagination just passes them by. They may have completed their education from the best university in the world, but are yet to mature to the point of understanding that wisdom can come not only from “leaders”, but from others as well, a “children’s writer” included.
Ultimately, we survive and thrive as a species because in some way or the other, at some point or the other, we help each other out. Without these simple values of humility, empathy and compassion, Harvard-educated or not, you don’t amount to much as a human being.
What really grabbed me was Rowling’s impassioned advocation of imagination. Defining the term more broadly than its usual meaning, she says, “Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.”
She then goes on to share some heartrending incidents from when she worked for Amnesty International, a time that she describes as “one of the greatest formative experiences” of her life. At Amnesty, she witnessed both the incredible evilness, but more importantly, the tremendous goodness of humanity towards humanity; a goodness which is possible because we can imagine what it would feel like to be persecuted and tortured, and therefore empathise with those who have actually undergone such brutalities, and therefore act..... act in whatever way possible with our talents and abilities to prevent such horrible crimes against humanity.
Rowling’s audience of Harvard’s graduating class of 2008 certainly have more talent and ability than most of us, and will assuredly hold important places in their societies. To these shapers of tomorrow, she asks that they use their power to fight for the powerless, because “We do not need magic to change the world, we carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.”
I was so deeply moved by these words that I had to pass it on immediately to family and friends for one, simply because it is an inspirational message, and two, because we could all use a reminder now and then that we each have a moral responsibility to lend a helping hand to those lesser privileged than us in whatever way we can.
I was also curious to see how the speech had been received and so, came across this article on NPR. While most of the Harvard seniors were blown away by Rowling, some were less than impressed. It was interesting to see the reasons why some people took objection:
“…we’re Harvard….we should be able to get anyone….we’re settling here.”
“They should have picked a leader to speak…not a children’s writer.” And so on.
Here are people to whom appearances matter much more than the message, people so full of their own importance that the importance of imagination just passes them by. They may have completed their education from the best university in the world, but are yet to mature to the point of understanding that wisdom can come not only from “leaders”, but from others as well, a “children’s writer” included.
Ultimately, we survive and thrive as a species because in some way or the other, at some point or the other, we help each other out. Without these simple values of humility, empathy and compassion, Harvard-educated or not, you don’t amount to much as a human being.
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Monday, July 07, 2008
In Bloom
A few years ago in Bombay, I realized how much a room came alive just by placing some flowers in it. I was lucky enough to have several small-time florists (and by florists, I mean guys with bunches of flowers and a tarp for a roof) all within walking distance from home. So picking up a few flowers became a weekly routine......nothing extravagant, just a couple of carnations, or some gerberra stalks, or a single shoot of orchids. Going about daily chores, or coming home after a long day and seeing those cheerful blooms always put the cheer back in me too.
In the few months that I've called Bangalore home, last week was the first time that I bought some flowers - 2 rosebuds to be exact and a sprig of fillers.
I miss the easy accessibility to flowers that I enjoyed in Bombay; florists - big and small-time - aren't exactly within walking distance here. But in all fairness, they're not too out of my usual way, and after seeing these babies, I'm definitely willing to go the extra bit to get them!
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Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Lourdes - Part 2
The main pilgrimage centre at Lourdes called 'The Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes', was a short walk from our hotel. Pictured below is the Rosary Basilica. During the time of the major Catholic feasts and festivals, the town is overwhelmed by pilgrims from across the globe. However, since our stay didn't coincide with any of the main events, the crowd level was at a pleasant bustle.
The Rosary Basilica as viewed from the back. The River Gave flows along the Sanctuary and is tied into Lourdes's miraculous legacy. Between February-March 1858, a 14-year old local girl, Bernadette Soubirous, saw 18 apparitions of the Virgin Mary at a place called Massabielle. Although Bernadette was surrounded by hundreds and thousands of curious onlookers during the later apparitions, she was the only one to see the Virgin. It was during one of the later apparitions that theVirgin asked her to drink from a stream (an offshoot of the Gave), which was quite muddy at the time. This was a form of penance for the sinners of the world. Since that time, the waters of the stream have had miraculous healing properties.
The young Bernadette devoted her life then on to the church as a nun, but died young in 1879 after a prolonged and painful illness. The Catholic church, quite rigourous when it comes to legitimizing miracles and visions, had taken four years to declare the apparitions as real after their occurence and Bernadette was sainted only in 1933. Another intriguing part about this humble saint is that her body has not decomposed. It can be viewed intact at another shrine in a place called Nevers, which was she had taken her vows.
The Rosary Basilica as viewed from the back. The River Gave flows along the Sanctuary and is tied into Lourdes's miraculous legacy. Between February-March 1858, a 14-year old local girl, Bernadette Soubirous, saw 18 apparitions of the Virgin Mary at a place called Massabielle. Although Bernadette was surrounded by hundreds and thousands of curious onlookers during the later apparitions, she was the only one to see the Virgin. It was during one of the later apparitions that theVirgin asked her to drink from a stream (an offshoot of the Gave), which was quite muddy at the time. This was a form of penance for the sinners of the world. Since that time, the waters of the stream have had miraculous healing properties.
The young Bernadette devoted her life then on to the church as a nun, but died young in 1879 after a prolonged and painful illness. The Catholic church, quite rigourous when it comes to legitimizing miracles and visions, had taken four years to declare the apparitions as real after their occurence and Bernadette was sainted only in 1933. Another intriguing part about this humble saint is that her body has not decomposed. It can be viewed intact at another shrine in a place called Nevers, which was she had taken her vows.
This is the Grotto of Massabielle. The statue in the niche is that of The Virgin Mary in the spot where the apparitions occured. The stream that Bernadette drank from flows in the grotto beneath. The Basilica's foundations rest over this holy spot and the faithful gather here to pray and light candles.
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Friday, May 23, 2008
Lourdes - Part 1
Getting back to Tourope, I've decided to start at the end rather than the beginning. The little town of Lourdes in the south of France was not part of the package tour, but is renowned as a Christian pilgrimage destination due to the appearance of Mother Mary to a young girl (St. Bernadette) and the consequent miraculous powers of the river that runs through Lourdes. Our tour ended in Paris, and so my parents felt that we should make the extra effort and visit Lourdes.
We'd had an extraordinarily wonderful three weeks in Europe, but all that changed the morning we were to depart for Lourdes. Our tour guide had told us we would have no problem getting a taxi to the train station from our hotel in Paris. Just to make sure we wouldn't be delayed, we stepped out nearly 2 hours in advance and waited out front.....and kept waiting and waiting and waiting for the surprisingly elusive taxis. Repeated visits to the concierge proved fruitless as they kept saying that we would get taxis. The only other option was to take the subway train which was not tempting as we were loaded down with four heavy suitcases plus hand baggage and as anyone who's travelled through these systems knows that while they're great for daily commutes, the never-ending staircases and winding corridors aren't easy navigation with luggage.
Finally, my frustrated father insisted they call for a taxi, which they did only to stay on hold for like half an hour. When we were about 45 minutes from the train departure time, it dawned on the hotel staff that since the airshow was going on, the rest of the city would likely be facing a taxi shortage. We were mad enough to get into a fight.....I mean, come on, this is the world famous Paris airshow, its been going on in their city for years and they only tell us about the taxis after 2 hours????
We were then left with no choice but to take the subway. And what a nightmarish trip that was!!! I'm not going to dwell on the details now. Of course we ended up missing our train, had to cough up some more Euros for tickets on a later train and then cooled our heels for a few hours at the station. Needless to say, we weren't in the best of moods. We weren't left with a favourable impression of the Parisians at the hotel and didn't know what to expect ahead at Lourdes.
However, the 5-hour train ride went smoothly. We arrived at the sleepy little station at Lourdes and thankfully, stepped into a taxi right outside. We drove through quaint roads, got a passing glimpse of the main shrine before turning onto a street lined with narrow buildings practically sticking to each other - all hotels to accomodate the millions of pilgrims and tourists who arrive every year. I was a bit apprehensive as I was the one who'd chosen the hotel and all I'd had to guide me were Internet reviews. But it turned out to be quite nice - cozy, warm interiors bustling with cheerful groups of pilgrims from all over the world. The staff at reception were friendly too, a welcome change from those at the Paris hotel. In fact, the man who checked us in was an Arab who'd recently moved to Lourdes from Dubai! He was delighted when we said we'd come from Abu Dhabi.
After that pleasant welcome, we went up to our rooms. I did a cursory neatness-cleanliness check and then headed straight to that which for me, determines the worth of a room - its view. All I'll write now is that my jaw dropped. I'll let the pictures speak the rest of it.
****
We'd had an extraordinarily wonderful three weeks in Europe, but all that changed the morning we were to depart for Lourdes. Our tour guide had told us we would have no problem getting a taxi to the train station from our hotel in Paris. Just to make sure we wouldn't be delayed, we stepped out nearly 2 hours in advance and waited out front.....and kept waiting and waiting and waiting for the surprisingly elusive taxis. Repeated visits to the concierge proved fruitless as they kept saying that we would get taxis. The only other option was to take the subway train which was not tempting as we were loaded down with four heavy suitcases plus hand baggage and as anyone who's travelled through these systems knows that while they're great for daily commutes, the never-ending staircases and winding corridors aren't easy navigation with luggage.
Finally, my frustrated father insisted they call for a taxi, which they did only to stay on hold for like half an hour. When we were about 45 minutes from the train departure time, it dawned on the hotel staff that since the airshow was going on, the rest of the city would likely be facing a taxi shortage. We were mad enough to get into a fight.....I mean, come on, this is the world famous Paris airshow, its been going on in their city for years and they only tell us about the taxis after 2 hours????
We were then left with no choice but to take the subway. And what a nightmarish trip that was!!! I'm not going to dwell on the details now. Of course we ended up missing our train, had to cough up some more Euros for tickets on a later train and then cooled our heels for a few hours at the station. Needless to say, we weren't in the best of moods. We weren't left with a favourable impression of the Parisians at the hotel and didn't know what to expect ahead at Lourdes.
However, the 5-hour train ride went smoothly. We arrived at the sleepy little station at Lourdes and thankfully, stepped into a taxi right outside. We drove through quaint roads, got a passing glimpse of the main shrine before turning onto a street lined with narrow buildings practically sticking to each other - all hotels to accomodate the millions of pilgrims and tourists who arrive every year. I was a bit apprehensive as I was the one who'd chosen the hotel and all I'd had to guide me were Internet reviews. But it turned out to be quite nice - cozy, warm interiors bustling with cheerful groups of pilgrims from all over the world. The staff at reception were friendly too, a welcome change from those at the Paris hotel. In fact, the man who checked us in was an Arab who'd recently moved to Lourdes from Dubai! He was delighted when we said we'd come from Abu Dhabi.
After that pleasant welcome, we went up to our rooms. I did a cursory neatness-cleanliness check and then headed straight to that which for me, determines the worth of a room - its view. All I'll write now is that my jaw dropped. I'll let the pictures speak the rest of it.
The River Gave that runs through Lourdes flowed right next to our hotel and all those other buildings you see, also hotels. Our hotel had hanging balconies, so I was quite literally standing over the river!
****
The 1000 year old Chateau Fort atop a hill overlooking River Gave.
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Monday, May 19, 2008
Revisiting Europe
May 2007 - not only was I frantically struggling to complete my dissertation for that one piece of paper which would deem me a 'Master', I was also accompanying my mother on an equally frantic round of trips to apply for & collect visas for our family's dream European vacation. Everything went off smoothly and we left on June 3rd 2007 for one of the best times we've ever had. I started to blog the experience here, but didn't get around to completing it (yes, procrastination is one of my weaknesses).
Europe has never been far from my mind since, but it was only recently when I was showing the pictures to my husband, that the tremendous beauty of all the big things and the small things that made up our trip, hit me all over again. And this time round, I will do full justice to Tourope.
Europe has never been far from my mind since, but it was only recently when I was showing the pictures to my husband, that the tremendous beauty of all the big things and the small things that made up our trip, hit me all over again. And this time round, I will do full justice to Tourope.
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Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Food and me
Some months ago, the topic of discussion on a radio program I used to tune into centred on food, and how one could control food intake. One method is to try and not think of food. Apparently, there's two kinds of people - those that think of food a lot, and those that just don't. Not think of food???? Freaks!!!!!
I love food. Really love food. Not in a gluttonous sense that I'm gorging every other minute, but that I like the anticipation of what my three meals of the day will be, and of course, the relishing of every morsel during the meal. I come from a totally foodie family, where nearly everyone is at the very least, a good cook, if not a great one.
Before marriage, my relationship with food (yes, I believe you have relationships with food) was based on me doing the eating only. I'd help out my mom, who is one of the most exceptional cooks I know, but I was never tempted to cook anything on my own. I baked, though. I love cakes & all sorts of confectionery, so after moving to the UAE and finding the best of ingredients readily available, I threw myself into baking....and found that while I liked what I prepared, it was more satisfying to see my creations being savoured and enjoyed by others.
But now.... I'm coming to realise that its infinitely more fulfilling to prepare the food we eat on a daily basis. The first dish that I made, rather nervously, was a simple stir-fry chicken, one that I'd seen my mom throw together countless times. And the review from hubby was that it was good. Confidence boosted, I went ahead. Its been over a month since that day, and I'm more relaxed now. It hasn't all been smooth sailing....I have had my disasters and no doubt, will continue to encounter them from time to time, but I'm not going to let that stop me. The key to any relationship is hard work and commitment, and food is no different.
Somewhere along the way, my relationship with food has evolved, and I've come to love preparing it as much as I love savouring it. I actually enjoy planning the menu for the week, enjoy sifting through recipes, especially enjoy tweaking those recipes a bit, and of course, I enjoy the process of cooking itself. I've channelled my creative juices into many activities before, but this is so much better! Its an incredibly heartwarming high to see my food being totally relished, and God.....a deliciously rewarding experience overall!!!
I love food. Really love food. Not in a gluttonous sense that I'm gorging every other minute, but that I like the anticipation of what my three meals of the day will be, and of course, the relishing of every morsel during the meal. I come from a totally foodie family, where nearly everyone is at the very least, a good cook, if not a great one.
Before marriage, my relationship with food (yes, I believe you have relationships with food) was based on me doing the eating only. I'd help out my mom, who is one of the most exceptional cooks I know, but I was never tempted to cook anything on my own. I baked, though. I love cakes & all sorts of confectionery, so after moving to the UAE and finding the best of ingredients readily available, I threw myself into baking....and found that while I liked what I prepared, it was more satisfying to see my creations being savoured and enjoyed by others.
But now.... I'm coming to realise that its infinitely more fulfilling to prepare the food we eat on a daily basis. The first dish that I made, rather nervously, was a simple stir-fry chicken, one that I'd seen my mom throw together countless times. And the review from hubby was that it was good. Confidence boosted, I went ahead. Its been over a month since that day, and I'm more relaxed now. It hasn't all been smooth sailing....I have had my disasters and no doubt, will continue to encounter them from time to time, but I'm not going to let that stop me. The key to any relationship is hard work and commitment, and food is no different.
Somewhere along the way, my relationship with food has evolved, and I've come to love preparing it as much as I love savouring it. I actually enjoy planning the menu for the week, enjoy sifting through recipes, especially enjoy tweaking those recipes a bit, and of course, I enjoy the process of cooking itself. I've channelled my creative juices into many activities before, but this is so much better! Its an incredibly heartwarming high to see my food being totally relished, and God.....a deliciously rewarding experience overall!!!
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Monday, February 25, 2008
Blessed
Blogger's block. Soooo much has happened in my life since the turn of the year, actually since the last few months of the old year, but I can't find the words to put it all together. I've been meaning to, wanting to, been playing the words around in my head, but I can't.....blogger's block. Or is it?
Now that I'm actually putting this down, I'm realizing that its not really a block. I feel. Soooo much that its just too huge to put into words. 'Humbled', 'awed', 'grateful', 'loved'.....they begin to cover it, but only just. So I think I'll leave the words aside, and simply feel. Feel all of these things, and above all of them, feel blessed. Blessed for the family I was born into, blessed for the family I just got married into, blessed for my man.
Now that I'm actually putting this down, I'm realizing that its not really a block. I feel. Soooo much that its just too huge to put into words. 'Humbled', 'awed', 'grateful', 'loved'.....they begin to cover it, but only just. So I think I'll leave the words aside, and simply feel. Feel all of these things, and above all of them, feel blessed. Blessed for the family I was born into, blessed for the family I just got married into, blessed for my man.
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Tuesday, December 18, 2007
My symbol of peace
'First time' occurrence today: saw the moon, or at least a pale shadow of it, at 1 p. m.
What's so special, you might ask. Well.....I love the moon. I love looking at it. The sight of the moon, whether a faint crescent or a brightly glowing orb, has always put a smile on my face, even in the worst of my moods.
I tend to overthink things - small things, big things, something is always going on in my head, and its easy to get overwhelmed by it all sometimes. But when I see the moon, its like everything.....calms down. I feel at peace, especially if its a brightly glowing full moon.
But the biggest treat, and to me, one of the most glorious sights in all of nature's wonder, is a red moonrise. I've only ever caught glimpses of it, usually while travelling - twisting and turning in my seat to see it better :)
It's one of my deepest desires to have enough time and of course, be in the right place, to watch a red moon rise, uninterrupted. I think I've blogged about this before, but it's worth remembering again.....I feel peaceful.
What's so special, you might ask. Well.....I love the moon. I love looking at it. The sight of the moon, whether a faint crescent or a brightly glowing orb, has always put a smile on my face, even in the worst of my moods.
I tend to overthink things - small things, big things, something is always going on in my head, and its easy to get overwhelmed by it all sometimes. But when I see the moon, its like everything.....calms down. I feel at peace, especially if its a brightly glowing full moon.
But the biggest treat, and to me, one of the most glorious sights in all of nature's wonder, is a red moonrise. I've only ever caught glimpses of it, usually while travelling - twisting and turning in my seat to see it better :)
It's one of my deepest desires to have enough time and of course, be in the right place, to watch a red moon rise, uninterrupted. I think I've blogged about this before, but it's worth remembering again.....I feel peaceful.
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Monday, December 10, 2007
Keep running
"Sometimes life is like a treadmill:
you keep running, but you get nowhere."
This came to me as I walked passed a gym yesterday and saw someone on a treadmill. At the time, I thought I was having one of my (rare) moments of insight, but now I can't help thinking that I've read this somewhere. Hmmm.
Interesting thought, anyway. Pessimistic, but interesting.
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Thursday, November 22, 2007
Numb
I want to feel something, anything
but all I feel is numb.
No valid reason, no annoying rhyme.
Just a fog-like insulation
Keeping things from sinking in.
No, I'm not hooked on anything,
I'm completely addiction-free.
Is that the problem???
Heh, of course not (a smile, at last!)
(Maybe I'll just start with this for now)
but all I feel is numb.
No valid reason, no annoying rhyme.
Just a fog-like insulation
Keeping things from sinking in.
No, I'm not hooked on anything,
I'm completely addiction-free.
Is that the problem???
Heh, of course not (a smile, at last!)
(Maybe I'll just start with this for now)
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Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Life is a Cycle
Picking up where I left off:
Life is a cycle…
and I'm learning to ride.
Though I fall
more often than I move ahead,
beyond the burn
of every bruise
lies a lesson
waiting to be learnt:
sometimes in confidence,
sometimes in humility;
sometimes in turning the other cheek,
sometimes in an eye for an eye.
Contradictions? Yes.
For isn't that the answer
to cycling well:
Finding your balance.
© me
Life is a cycle…
and I'm learning to ride.
Though I fall
more often than I move ahead,
beyond the burn
of every bruise
lies a lesson
waiting to be learnt:
sometimes in confidence,
sometimes in humility;
sometimes in turning the other cheek,
sometimes in an eye for an eye.
Contradictions? Yes.
For isn't that the answer
to cycling well:
Finding your balance.
© me
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Tuesday, November 06, 2007
What it is we hold on to
I don't think I'm the sort of person who enthusiastically embraces change, or at least not in my personal life. It's not that I avoid change, no. I accept, I face and I move on.....but in my own time and in my own way, after much dwelling on my life as it has been..... savouring the good, learning from the bad.
I love introspection (just realised that!) I do it all the time, but I’ve just realised that I love it as I type these words. Funny how realisations strike sometimes!
I love going over my life..... people I've met & loved & sometimes lost… things I've done & seen & said.....I think I’ve emerged stronger and wiser through all of it.
So, recently when my friend ThoughtWarp mused over “What it is that we hold on to?”, I had so many answers. Moments that are with you all the time, moments that lie in the back of your mind; forgotten moments that are relived and relished when you see an old photo, talk to an old friend, maybe read an old post???
I totally agree that it isn’t possible to “capture” life in its entirety. But I think its worth the effort to hold every precious moment possible, especially when you’re faced with change….and life as you know it will never be the same.
I love introspection (just realised that!) I do it all the time, but I’ve just realised that I love it as I type these words. Funny how realisations strike sometimes!
I love going over my life..... people I've met & loved & sometimes lost… things I've done & seen & said.....I think I’ve emerged stronger and wiser through all of it.
So, recently when my friend ThoughtWarp mused over “What it is that we hold on to?”, I had so many answers. Moments that are with you all the time, moments that lie in the back of your mind; forgotten moments that are relived and relished when you see an old photo, talk to an old friend, maybe read an old post???
I totally agree that it isn’t possible to “capture” life in its entirety. But I think its worth the effort to hold every precious moment possible, especially when you’re faced with change….and life as you know it will never be the same.
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Friday, September 07, 2007
Thanks to the Romance Novel
My favourite genre of fiction is romance - contemporary, historical, 'paranormal'.....doesn't matter, I love them all. I've been reading romances for nearly 10 years now and the attraction still hasn't waned. Some might snidely & cynically dismiss it to getting cheap thrills, but no, that's not it. I'm basically a sentimental, romantic fool at heart, forced to adopt a practical facade to survive this world. So in those moments when there's no one to be practical for, I like to indulge the fool.
Giving in to the "practical" requests of some, I have, on occasion, tried to "elevate" my reading preferences. I once forced myself to read a V. S. Naipaul - a book so unmemorable that I have forgotten its name. Other brushes with "literature" (namely, Nathaniel Hawthorne's 'The House of Seven Gables' and Daphne du Maurier's 'Rebecca' and 'The Scapegoat' ) were not so bad. I wouldn't rave about these books, because at the end, I was left oddly unsettled, melancholy even. Then again, to be great, art should evoke some emotion in the recipient, even if the emotion is less than positive.
Therein, I suppose, lies one of the reasons I continue to stand by romance novels. Who couldn't help but feel positive after a happy ending? But why I am truly thankful to romance novels, is for all the interesting snippets of information I've gained over the years: food habits, social practices, arts, languages, geographical & historical facts......worlds now and past have been opened for me.
However, what led to this post is something I read last night in a historical romance. One of the characters quoted a couplet that quite literally, made my heart jolt.
The source? Essay on Man (Epistle 1) by Alexander Pope. I would never have read Pope's work just based on the fact that he's one of the greats (in fact, I once began reading Rape of the Lock, but didn't feel compelled to continue), but this, this was just divine and I had to read it all. So, my sincere thanks to Martine Berne (author of the historical romance) for including these lines, and to that supreme, unseen force that directed me to this book.
Giving in to the "practical" requests of some, I have, on occasion, tried to "elevate" my reading preferences. I once forced myself to read a V. S. Naipaul - a book so unmemorable that I have forgotten its name. Other brushes with "literature" (namely, Nathaniel Hawthorne's 'The House of Seven Gables' and Daphne du Maurier's 'Rebecca' and 'The Scapegoat' ) were not so bad. I wouldn't rave about these books, because at the end, I was left oddly unsettled, melancholy even. Then again, to be great, art should evoke some emotion in the recipient, even if the emotion is less than positive.
Therein, I suppose, lies one of the reasons I continue to stand by romance novels. Who couldn't help but feel positive after a happy ending? But why I am truly thankful to romance novels, is for all the interesting snippets of information I've gained over the years: food habits, social practices, arts, languages, geographical & historical facts......worlds now and past have been opened for me.
However, what led to this post is something I read last night in a historical romance. One of the characters quoted a couplet that quite literally, made my heart jolt.
"All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good.
And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite,
One truth is clear, 'Whatever is, is right.'"
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good.
And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite,
One truth is clear, 'Whatever is, is right.'"
The source? Essay on Man (Epistle 1) by Alexander Pope. I would never have read Pope's work just based on the fact that he's one of the greats (in fact, I once began reading Rape of the Lock, but didn't feel compelled to continue), but this, this was just divine and I had to read it all. So, my sincere thanks to Martine Berne (author of the historical romance) for including these lines, and to that supreme, unseen force that directed me to this book.
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Saturday, August 11, 2007
The Enigma of War
When one thinks of war, the images typically evoked are those of camouflaged soldiers, bloodied or burnt bodies, the flash of gunfire, devasted lands, skies greyed by dust and smoke. Those of us blessed enough to never have witnessed any of this firsthand can imagine these visuals thanks to the media & the moviemakers. But this frontline combat and its horrifying consequences are not the start and finish of any war.
I recently watched a movie called Enigma, based on a book by Robert Harris, starring Dougray Scott and Kate Winslet. Set in the UK's codebreaking center during WWII, its basically about how Scott (the genius codebreaker) has to redecipher Nazi radio transmissions during a radio blackout to prevent the biggest attack on a convoy of Allied ships in the Atlantic, and track down a traitor among his colleagues.
Through the course of the film, the tedious aspects of codebreaking are brought out well. In the absence of today's technological ability, much of the information-gathering & mundane work, like listening to radio transmissions, recording them, filing them were performed by women. I especially liked one scene, where Scott visits a place manned by headphone-wearing women, whose only job is listening to radio transmissions (an endless variety of Morse beeps); one woman pulls off her headphones and asks Scott if they truly are making sense of all these beeps. She says something like, "Our war is only this, beep beep beep." All she wants is a reassurance that their endless hours, days & months of listening to beeps is helping.
The film later moves to a juncture where the codebreaking team realises that the Nazis will only start transmitting once the Allied convoy is within range of their missiles, meaning they cannot prevent the attack, only control its extent. The tensions between the codebreakers and the naval officer in charge come to the fore, despite being on the same side. The codebreakers know that lives will have to be sacrificed for them to gain the necessary number of transmissions to crack the code; the naval officer, himself a survivor of a similar battle, thinks only to minimise the deaths.
Among the film's subplots is a storyline incorporating the horrifying Katyn Massacre - Stalin's brutal killing of thousands of Polish citizens during Russia's invasion of Poland in 1939-40 (a fact that Russia denied till 1990). Scott's character is stunned on learning about this massacre, and even more horrified on realising that his government knows about it, but has chosen not to do anything because they needed Russia's might to stave off the Nazis.
Technically, Engima is an average film. The story has many subplots and demands complete concentration to understand, so I wouldn't recommend it for a leisurely watch. Its not a movie you can enjoy, but I appreciate the effort behind it because it makes you realise the many levels on which wars are fought and that the men and women on the frontline are not the only soldiers, the only heroes. But perhaps the strongest realisation for me was the sheer impossibility of the moral dilemmas thrust on decision-makers. How much will you sacrifice to protect "the greater good"?
I recently watched a movie called Enigma, based on a book by Robert Harris, starring Dougray Scott and Kate Winslet. Set in the UK's codebreaking center during WWII, its basically about how Scott (the genius codebreaker) has to redecipher Nazi radio transmissions during a radio blackout to prevent the biggest attack on a convoy of Allied ships in the Atlantic, and track down a traitor among his colleagues.
Through the course of the film, the tedious aspects of codebreaking are brought out well. In the absence of today's technological ability, much of the information-gathering & mundane work, like listening to radio transmissions, recording them, filing them were performed by women. I especially liked one scene, where Scott visits a place manned by headphone-wearing women, whose only job is listening to radio transmissions (an endless variety of Morse beeps); one woman pulls off her headphones and asks Scott if they truly are making sense of all these beeps. She says something like, "Our war is only this, beep beep beep." All she wants is a reassurance that their endless hours, days & months of listening to beeps is helping.
The film later moves to a juncture where the codebreaking team realises that the Nazis will only start transmitting once the Allied convoy is within range of their missiles, meaning they cannot prevent the attack, only control its extent. The tensions between the codebreakers and the naval officer in charge come to the fore, despite being on the same side. The codebreakers know that lives will have to be sacrificed for them to gain the necessary number of transmissions to crack the code; the naval officer, himself a survivor of a similar battle, thinks only to minimise the deaths.
Among the film's subplots is a storyline incorporating the horrifying Katyn Massacre - Stalin's brutal killing of thousands of Polish citizens during Russia's invasion of Poland in 1939-40 (a fact that Russia denied till 1990). Scott's character is stunned on learning about this massacre, and even more horrified on realising that his government knows about it, but has chosen not to do anything because they needed Russia's might to stave off the Nazis.
Technically, Engima is an average film. The story has many subplots and demands complete concentration to understand, so I wouldn't recommend it for a leisurely watch. Its not a movie you can enjoy, but I appreciate the effort behind it because it makes you realise the many levels on which wars are fought and that the men and women on the frontline are not the only soldiers, the only heroes. But perhaps the strongest realisation for me was the sheer impossibility of the moral dilemmas thrust on decision-makers. How much will you sacrifice to protect "the greater good"?
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Monday, July 16, 2007
Another turn....
....in the path of my life. I've started work - my first job in the UAE, and the second overall - in an area that, as recently as a year ago, I never thought I'd work in. Then my dissertation happened and changed my professional focus. I'm a long way off from realising any of what I 'disserted' about, but I've taken that crucial first step. Admittedly, its not as big a step as I'd hoped, but its still something. I'm on the inside now......
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Sunday, July 01, 2007
Sensory Overload
At the beginning of the year, I'd made a small wish. I had no idea it would be answered so soon and so spectacularly well. June 2007 passed by in a whirlwind of new sights, and I'm still recovering from the onslaught. I knew the package tour way of seeing a new place would be hectic, and of course, everyone knows that Europe is gorgeous, but still nothing prepared me for the.......sheer magnificence of the place.
Where do I begin to describe it all? The rolling green meadows, flowers and trees the likes of which I never knew existed (trees with purple and pink leaves - not the ornamental plants you see around, but trees .....how stunning they were!), majestic snow-capped mountains, wisps of mist floating among those mountains, rivers & lakes in all shades of blue including this unbelievable glistening turquoise (apparently due to calcites, I was told).....and God, even the clouds......I have never seen such generous puffs of fluffy white cloud before. No wonder this continent produced the best-known artists in the world.
The architecture, sculptures, mosaics and paintings are yet another unending delight for the senses. You see it all in pictures, in movies, in magazines, so it isn't as if its a brand new experience......yet none of these things can prepare you for the actual sights themselves. The awesome size of the buildings is the first thing that astounds, then as you get closer, the intricacies of the carvings and embellishments spread over these enormous structures just leaves you gasping.
I went crazy clicking photographs, trying to capture some part of this wealth of beauty for memory, but it ceased temporarily when I was inside St. Peter's in the Vatican. This place is an absolute explosion of art.....I'd start to click one sculpture, move ahead and see another one that was even more spectacular. Then I happened to look up towards the ceiling, and was lost completely. I don't have the words to do it justice so I'm not even trying. I just gave up clicking snaps and walked around, alternating my stares between walls and ceilings. If its the last thing I do, I'm going back to this place.
Here, and to the Louvre. We had just one brief hour of free time in Paris on the last day of the tour. My family was more interested in window-shopping; me, I just wanted a look at one of the most mysterious women of all time. I had a simple game plan: buy admission tickets, dart in, see the Mona Lisa, dart back out. The moment I saw the first painting in the Italian section, however, I was lost again......dazed, actually. Wide-eyed, slack-jawed I was slooowwly moving from painting to painting, when my dear mum had enough. I had to be dragged through, coz I just couldn't hurry up on my own. I sort of came to when we reached the Mona Lisa. Its only when you see other great paintings and then look at this one, do you appreciate da Vinci's sheer brilliance. There were so many other paintings I'd noticed that dwarf this one, have more vivid colours and subjects in more animated positions, but somehow lack the delicacy and the finesse with which the Mona Lisa has been rendered. I made a promise here too......that I'd come back someday, and do full justice to the Louvre.
For now, its back to editing the 2000-odd photos I took......some of the better ones will make their way here.
Where do I begin to describe it all? The rolling green meadows, flowers and trees the likes of which I never knew existed (trees with purple and pink leaves - not the ornamental plants you see around, but trees .....how stunning they were!), majestic snow-capped mountains, wisps of mist floating among those mountains, rivers & lakes in all shades of blue including this unbelievable glistening turquoise (apparently due to calcites, I was told).....and God, even the clouds......I have never seen such generous puffs of fluffy white cloud before. No wonder this continent produced the best-known artists in the world.
The architecture, sculptures, mosaics and paintings are yet another unending delight for the senses. You see it all in pictures, in movies, in magazines, so it isn't as if its a brand new experience......yet none of these things can prepare you for the actual sights themselves. The awesome size of the buildings is the first thing that astounds, then as you get closer, the intricacies of the carvings and embellishments spread over these enormous structures just leaves you gasping.
I went crazy clicking photographs, trying to capture some part of this wealth of beauty for memory, but it ceased temporarily when I was inside St. Peter's in the Vatican. This place is an absolute explosion of art.....I'd start to click one sculpture, move ahead and see another one that was even more spectacular. Then I happened to look up towards the ceiling, and was lost completely. I don't have the words to do it justice so I'm not even trying. I just gave up clicking snaps and walked around, alternating my stares between walls and ceilings. If its the last thing I do, I'm going back to this place.
Here, and to the Louvre. We had just one brief hour of free time in Paris on the last day of the tour. My family was more interested in window-shopping; me, I just wanted a look at one of the most mysterious women of all time. I had a simple game plan: buy admission tickets, dart in, see the Mona Lisa, dart back out. The moment I saw the first painting in the Italian section, however, I was lost again......dazed, actually. Wide-eyed, slack-jawed I was slooowwly moving from painting to painting, when my dear mum had enough. I had to be dragged through, coz I just couldn't hurry up on my own. I sort of came to when we reached the Mona Lisa. Its only when you see other great paintings and then look at this one, do you appreciate da Vinci's sheer brilliance. There were so many other paintings I'd noticed that dwarf this one, have more vivid colours and subjects in more animated positions, but somehow lack the delicacy and the finesse with which the Mona Lisa has been rendered. I made a promise here too......that I'd come back someday, and do full justice to the Louvre.
For now, its back to editing the 2000-odd photos I took......some of the better ones will make their way here.
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Friday, June 08, 2007
So many places, so little time
This is going to be the theme of this trip, especially starting today when we join the tour. I've spent four days in England so far, and I wish I had more time....time to wander around these quaint little towns and bustling cities, time to really absorb the sights (of which there is no shortage). But since that's not to be, I'm doing the best to stay alert despite a hectic schedule, and take in all that I can. There's soooooo much to write about....the places, the people.....but more on all of it later.
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Sunday, June 03, 2007
Tourope....
Well, gosh, where do I start? Soooooo much has happened since my last post.
Finished my dissertation......yay!!!!!
Better yet, I'm blogging from England!!!!!! We're celebrating various things with a vacation to Europe & today is the first day!
Landed in London & it was like a mini-Mumbai reunion......ran into some old neighbours here at Heathrow of all places.......the world is getting smaller!!!!!
Driving to my relatives placé, I got my first glimpse of the UK......I couldn't help but feel how much it looked like some of the roads back home....surprising, but true.
Now, I set off to explore the surrounding areas......its 7 pm & we still have another hour & half of sunlight to go......how cool, or rather hot, is that!
Finished my dissertation......yay!!!!!
Better yet, I'm blogging from England!!!!!! We're celebrating various things with a vacation to Europe & today is the first day!
Landed in London & it was like a mini-Mumbai reunion......ran into some old neighbours here at Heathrow of all places.......the world is getting smaller!!!!!
Driving to my relatives placé, I got my first glimpse of the UK......I couldn't help but feel how much it looked like some of the roads back home....surprising, but true.
Now, I set off to explore the surrounding areas......its 7 pm & we still have another hour & half of sunlight to go......how cool, or rather hot, is that!
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