Month: Jan 2020

I could’ve ‘planted 244 trees last year’…?

I’m not a morning newspaper person, but today’s header> ‘TomTom Traffic Index Special declaring our city Bangalore as with highest traffic congestion, globally…’ <got me gagging!

B’luru‘ is (if you’re looking at attached pic), the abbreviation of my renamed city ‘Bengaluru’, the renaming of which made our Traditional Linguists feel better about everyday conversations and other hazards. ‘B’luru‘ though!🙄

About Rush-hour & motor dioxide….are we surprised? No.

The fine print says we could’ve listened to Lennon’s Imagine 4673 times, cooked 7,033 pancakes, baked 11,702 cookies, watched 139 soccer matches & 215 Game of Thrones, completed 49 Jigsaws and planted 244 trees??…all in the 243 extra hours, a regular Commuter might lose just sitting out traffic jams in a year. That’s a loss of ten days annually, check the math, I’m no pundit there.

Still, we were getting used to things the way they were. It made even kidnapping hard to get away with.



Last year in Delhi, I think? A two AM Traffic jam gave Cops pursuing those kidnappers ample time and space to track the vehicle, with Zero advantage to some people trying to escape crime scene. Kidnappee got back home in time for breakfast…😂isn’t that the best??

Too, these days I’m a muchhhh better pillion rider/ car mate within city limits, for all the crawling congestion! Not that much woe about ankles being scraped while on bike, or head on collisions due to Speed, or being raced by auto rickshaw on one side, local bus on the other, …

no one’s going anyplace that fast, not with the ‘jam!

Last week: not rush hour Friday!

So, this works for me in an odd way,

(ACH, you wouldn’t want to drive over 80 with me in tow). Ask my husband- any speedometer kissing 100 mph, and I need Oxygen.

It must be hard to live with my high -inaudible almost- shriek at something coming at us from the opposite direction, or family of sudden goats a bleat away from front wheel….this happens so easy on NH4 past Golden Amoon resort an hour away from here, those breathe easy wide open routes via village and some amount of pasture land, never mind industrial advances.

Why do they call it that?

So, there’s all that. Why make a noise? Felt good to say some things about all the trees we could’ve planted while waiting …

Imagine this :

Bangalore population = 2,327,000

x 244 trees = 3007788000 trees? It is that many trees we could’ve planted while sitting out traffic jam, right? (I google calculated ofcourse..)

Did Tomtom also meanwhile work out all that about Throne games we could’ve watched, and Soccer? I’m no Soccer/ Throne Room enthusiast, but I love my city, it’s traffic lanes crowding with hawkers selling bike mirror & windshield cleaners, key chain, funny faced hand puppets with rolled in red tongues that squawk out at you,

That aside, am wishing for better days on the road,

though, how?

Some of us should shift to villages, some get helipads, more of us share cabs and go buses, go metro. Tough. Someday sometime we shall overcome. Was that daddy Luther or Gandhiji Bapu? It is Mahatma Gandhi’s death anniv today…

On his 72nd death anniversary, some memorable quotes.

….

No, Sir Bapu. We best not lose faith in us all…

our spaces and time crowding with kinds of Hawkers, Traffickers! ‘Thrones…’

and oh this ..

where will Transport go with lesser affordable petrol….who can tell?

In honour of today’s post I’m thinking on planting the Lemon seeds I have+ Orange and Desert Flower from Oman. How will they bless anything? Unsure.

Sometimes you just go do what smiles at the moment.

…..

On a different note,

our girls with an impromptu cover👇… 👸is all the ‘Throne” I have space for….

No Redemption

As I post this, there’s just 2 more days for four of India’s most brutal rapists to meet their gallows. They apparently are saying they don’t want to die; it’s been harsh years for them in prison, but after a long drawn out judicial process, the hammer finally fell. Feb 1, these 4 will take a final walk.

There hasn’t been toooooo much national debate on the matter, if you were in India you’d have read up on this ghastly deliberate assault on a 23 year old physiotherapist by 5 (no, 6) ‘men’ on a moving empty bus. What was left of the girl was the shreds of a human being who barely survived to recount the horror; she died, but lives on as ‘The fearless one.” Nirbhaya.

This whole thing is a horror story, both the crime and the result of it. Nothing here is human, but stepping away from this story, am wondering what it feels like to face a sentence and for a crime like that? What are the convicts’ thoughts, what do they ask for in the last hours? Is there repentance, will these four men have soul redemption, do they care? From reports we’ve been reading, interviews…. their remorse has been zero. It is like something in there isn’t working. They’ve no clue what they did was cold blooded murder, I don’t get it. Justice seems cold, too: how else does society get the message, it’s an example to the rest, yes we know that.

I couldn’t sleep last night thinking how it must feel to know you have 2 sunrises left. 2 dusks….

what does it feel like to die… when the human spirit transpires… is that the word… expires… and goes from here to there…

..to that ‘Land‘ so much talked about, dissected, analysed, forbidden to analyze by some who disbelieve such possibilities….

gallows or no, it’s there for every single one of us, and I’m thinking of my great grandma who knew she was dying and when. She ordered her coffin, she bathed, wore a white sari and gave her last words. When she breathed her last, she was smiling with the word, “Jesus” on her lips.

Try and beat that one!

I’ve no clue how to end this post. It’s not a “to hang, or not to” post;

we are all inches away from some kind of wrong or the other. I’ve received forgiveness more than once, for which I’m so grateful. Oh it’s nice to rave about blessings when it is Death row for some. There are no solutions to that one. Have you looked in the eye of a murderer who did what he did and grinned about it later? Shudder, no comment. I believe even death is an easy way out, but it can put at least some amount of fear in a few, anyone trying to play repeats of crime story. Ofcourse there are doubts whether there will be further stay on this order, since one of them has appealed and will be listened to, tomorrow …!

That said, I still wonder about that Death Row, and the act of dying without knowing you’ve received eternal pardon, and that then there is so much more to look forward to than the temporal.

I’m super righteous glad I’m not Supreme court justice, nor a lawyer, nor the cell cleaner, or warden or cook, or doc, or worse still the hangman. Glad I’m not the gatekeeper anywhere near there or the driver of any particular necessary van, or the ropemaker. But we’re here and we share an earth, and I think it’s a good thing to try and look out for each other in buses and dark lanes and places I don’t know to say.

And I think it’s a good thing to think about After Life: it doesn’t just arrive in Death row prison cells…

what a dark post this is!

My blind son learns to write like ‘sighted humans’

Trenches

Have you had a Faith Moment when you believed in your core something beautiful was coming your way, never mind what else you felt? And you believed it would rain down, no matter the desert you were in… so you built trenches. You felt like an idiot, there were no rain clouds, there was nothing except the silence. But in the silence there was a Song, with your name in it. A Still whisper only you could hear. A Miracle waiting for you. You. I wish you that as you listen to this song. I believe these things aren’t just about blogs and likes, comments and subscriptions. We are human beings with questions and prayers. We have needs that none else may even want to know about.

The next few moments, may you dig deep, build trenches by Faith that God hears, He answers, He knows you by name. This one’s by my daughter Vihan. Recorded on a day that was hard for all of us at home.

Why do I believe in a God who cares? Because of a day like this one, when a new song was born, for you, for me. Hey, stay blest. That River of blessing flows for you.

Vihan Damaris

Something beautiful

Something red, Patti

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” ― Pablo Neruda

Quote — Charmed Chaos

From sun garden@hospital park, yesterday. Botanical name for ‘Crown of thorns’.. unsure, but I hear this one is best found in Madagascar

Euphorbia milii, the crown of thorns, Christ plant, or Christ thorn, called Corona de Cristo in Latin America, is a species of flowering plant in the spurge family Euphorbiaciae, native to Madagascar. The species name commemorates Baron Milius, once Governor of Réunion, who introduced the species to France in 1821. Wikipedia

“What ‘Abide With Me’ means to India,” writes Gopalkrishna Gandhi – columns – Hindustan Times

Hindustantimes.com/columns/what-abide-with-me-means-to-india/

Thankyou Sam T. for this Link I had to repost. It’s a worthy 5minutes’ good long look via Indian Republic celebrations to ‘one of the world’s most moving songs…….’ Article written by Gopalkrishna Gandhi

read on

Indias 71st!
Art : Raylarn

“…All in fact is still, all quiet in expectation of a musical experience that goes beyond music to life, to the theatre where life itself stands still — in the complete uncertainty of the next moment, the next fraction of the second…..

at that moment, the massed bands of our three armed services begin slowly to play the penultimate number in the evening’s musical sequence.

Abide With Me has to be among the world’s most moving hymns.

Written by the Scottish Anglican H. Francis Lyte in 1847, it draws its opening words from the Bible, Luke 24:29, “Abide with us: for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.” Its last but one verse draws from the Bible again, 1 Corinthians 15:55, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”. But that is only an incidental detail. The verse has grown from out of human loss, deprivation, sorrow. Lyte, it is said, wrote it after visiting a dying friend who , as Lyte sat beside him, kept saying “Abide with me…”.

The song wafts on its tune. Indeed, without that tune, the song would have lain on paper. The melody composed by William Henry Monk in 1861 goes by the name of “Eventide”, meaning, quite simply, evening. And if the song has to be among the world’s most moving hymns, that tune has to be among the world’s most heart-wrenching melodies. I wish the words of this column could reproduce its transporting notes. Readers may wish to reach for them through the Internet.

The words and the tune of “Abide With Me” have, for the last half-a-century, become Beating Retreat’s most memorable passage. As the last note of the hymn subsides, the bells from the Church of the Redemption, nearby, peal in pure pathos. To say not one person moves, not one shuffles in his or her seat would be to exaggerate. To say that not one eye is dry, not one throat unconstricted would be to exaggerate. But that is about as near the truth as there can be. The experience is deeply, profoundly moving.

For it brings to mind after our great Republic Day, where our armed forces have been celebrated, the sacrifice of those bravehearts who have laid down their lives for the country and their kin who have endured the loss so bravely.

Beating Retreat has been an eclectic event, bringing military and civilian sensibilities together in a unique ceremony(Mohd Zakir/HT PHOTO)

New Delhi, January 29.

The year? Any year in the decade starting with 1950 to the one that has just ended.

The winter sun dips behind Raisina Hill. It seems not to want to go, but cannot linger. And as it goes, it swathes the house of India’s President atop that hill with a halo of golden twilight. The North and South Blocks beside it, similarly, turn bronze. These are lights from the sky. Nature’s illuminings, not tawdry emissions from bulbs and tubes held by wires.

Stately camels from the Bikaner Camel Corps of the Border Security Force line the red sandstone ramparts, standing silhouetted along the slopes rockstill. Full-maned horses from the 61st Cavalry stand motionless with their statuesque Sowars…..

Abide with me / fast falls the eventide/The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide/When other helpers fail and comforts flee/Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

The words are clearly Christian, about God. But they are in their core about that source, whatever one may call it, of strength that is needed by those who feel vulnerable, insecure, bereft. It is about wanting to survive loss, outlast bereavement. And to overcome grief. The words are universal, the tune human.

Who does the verse affront ? What does it offend ? Has anyone been, can anything be, hurt by a song that is about the healing of hurt ? And so I want to disbelieve reports that the ministry of defence plans to take this great hymn out of the sequence of music for Beating Retreat, January 29, 2020….

Beating Retreat has been an eclectic event, bringing military and civilian sensibilities together in a unique ceremony. It has traditionally ended with the soul-stirring Saarey Jahan Se Achha Hindostan Hamara. I believe in that line’s assertion. But today, I must invoke the lines from Abide With Me :

…O Thou who changest not, abide with me…”

….

Gopalkrishna Gandhi is a former administrator, diplomat and governor. The views expressed are personal.

From the Womb of the Father

That line 👆 has been with me 3 weeks now. I wake up to sit in star-shade by our potted grapevine that snuggles baby pigeon twins: it is quiet, so quiet you could hear us breathe.

Sophia- the world’s first Robot citizen.

Times like these, it arrives with a Noise-

that we are Created:

the lot of us- kings, priests, fugitives, the dying, breathing, the reviven. I like that word : Reviven. (People do make up new words: check this from last year. So, this is my own word, unless someone’s beaten me to it and I’ve no clue😄!)..

it is in effect, making our own moment, we crash rigidity, we step down into cellars ‘neath our feet…..places we once knew existed, when we were unaffected by things we cannot physically see.

My puppet collection

Ach.

We are not puppets, we have free will, the power of choice, we own soul and incredible powers to make/ break each other. I am blown away by our ‘400,000 species of plant life’, leave alone secrets in DNA or a Robot named Sophia.

I do not understand Rape either, its dehumanization ; or even how it feels to be an Executioner, however just the cause..

… besides all of the above,

what on earth are ‘ghost particles’ surfacing from inner earth?

My gran Tara would’ve hooted with joy, “Finally we have discovered hell!”

I’ve taken after her I know. We are both Encountees of the Divine, we shush no-God theories. It’s our Doxa! We pray in the stars, we pray over meals, in traffic jams, over news headlines and politicians splitting hairs, tails, we are all extensions of each other! So I pray for border countries unashamed by raised brows. Hey, if you’ve hung around MRIs and Cat scans long enough, you’ve lost some dignity, you don’t care who says what about which.

Last year I recovered from a serious heart condition and got home as if nothing happened. Yeah, miracle. From the womb of Heaven. I vowed at the hemline of God, oh Trouser hem if you will…. that if I outlived that ordeal, I’d blog, I’d blig about it, everything under that category.

We die alone, we live alone really- we lean heavily on each other and sibling and spouse but truly it’s a life about Givery– as in Giving. All the fuss about proving Eden wrong? It pales next to our screaming need to know we are inimitable.

Ofcourse,

phosphorus! Always suspected the PH of fish was crucial to our existence. How star studies reveal that, is a good thing.

I look deep in the sky when I can and there they are: Scripture writ with bold hand across the sky. Sometimes I get a loveletter in cloud- tone dialects that go, “When one feels low, they must get some fish. To fry, or to curry.”

On occasion a P.S. “…works even when you’re in a good mood.”

So while we stare at fish ponds & the news, while some run out food and survival, I’m thinking on how tough it is for us to remember we did not make ourselves. (The mysteries of human construction are the biggest news there will ever be about us…)

As I post this I’m wrapping myself around a question :

aren’t you too often startled at how infinitesimally puny our ‘problems’ are in comparison to our Source… the DNA of One who ‘doesn’t exist’…

which very Insistence qualifies Him?

‘Poems are written by fools like me
but only God can make a tree..’
KIPLING

REVIVEN : IT EXISTS! Check here