Let Every Dawn Herald New Beginnings

bring me that horizon

2006-08-26T14:57:00.000+08:00

Heya all, I know it's been an incredibly looong while since my last presence here, but (especially to my kindred, Minervan Fellows) yours truly has been missing your warm embrace of friendship too.

That said, welcome back, dear all ~ hoping all of you are doing fine, managing all our challenges and amusing moments fine. (And yes, the title line is indeed from the endearing Captain Jack Sparrow in Bruckheimer's Pirates of the Carribean rather amusing (& enjoyable) movie, yep. Thanks SW!)

*Special hugs of thanks to Zombie & Goddess dearests for your lovely notes ~ yes, am still very much in the learning-to-cope (not quite mastered the balancing act - yet, yaar) stage. Been stumbling-racing- (and at rare moments of leisure,) wandering through 'tis labyrinthine journey, Learning

~about people: relating to them well, staying alert/open/informedly critical..

~about work: managing mountains of 'em..

~and yes, Life.

Which leaves the fact that pursuits of personal pleasure ('tis blogging escapade, for instance) have been taking a backseat to the clockwork (and not always, human..) routines of work. Been out-of-touch with this blog haven (and of friends, of the exulting musings of thought too) so much, I'd been musing that my writing would have morphed too..

Not that I've had much time for personal musings but am ok, learning to cope, so there. Still learning the ropes of (efficient, that's the word) work management, at this stage (both the literal & figurative meanings apply here, dear all) of life ~ but there I go again, abandoning the 'ol delights that used to enthral yours truly's soul, in the (happier, perhaps) days of old.

As always, some gems to share: Chanced across dear Takurda's "A Wife's Letter" sometime back ~ All I felt, after perusing it was how, only the greatest of all Creators (be they writers, artists, artistes, scientists, thinkers) are able to put themselves in the perspectives of other peoples and yet portray pictures of life so real, they evoke only Awe at the sheer humanness of it all. And when it comes to fiction, perhaps authors/poets have to be one notch above to ensure the verisimilitude to life (easily surprising/painful/heartening/dynamic/morphing all at once) as we know it.

So there, am still amazed how the dear thinker's visions for an enlightened future/humanity rings so true of human empathy. Enjoy the read, dear all: Tagore's "A Wife's Letter."

More gems, by Emerson:

We acquire the strength we have overcome.

With the past, I have nothing to do; nor with the future. I live now.

Let us be silent, that we may hear the whispers of the gods.

Do take care all. Wishes as always, minerva*
p.s. i. Latest nectarine Album rediscovered by Urs truly: Harisaab's ghazalite Lahore Ke Rang. (Absolutely lovely renditions, with some pretty cheery melodies. Oh, but how is it that even in the harshest gloom, lovely melodies close to the 'ol soul can evoke so much sunshine and hope anew?)

p.s.ii.Yep, to those who noticed, there's a new list of recent tunes yours truly's been listening to, up above, thanks to Last.fm, yay. Cool, eh?

No matter what..

2006-07-21T23:29:00.000+08:00

Heya all, hope you've all been doing fine.

Am still very much on the learning track, stumbling-striding-managing my way with respect to things professional, at the moment. And before this fresh excitement at (finally) getting to jot a little something down - before the whirlwind of work picks us all up again - wanes, here's a big Minervan Hug of Thanks to all dear like-minded souls, esp. valued Minervan Fellows as dear Goddess, Zombie & DM. Am glad you are all fine too.

Just a short note here:
The Investiture was great, of course. Besides the fact that it ended in a rather all-too-soon-fashion (and like Mom mused later, it didn't quite exude the nostalgia of the 'ol Convocation days, but that's of the past now). Did get to spend some treasured moments with dearer friends though, like SW, and old Lit tutorial-mates, as well as Thuz' friends.
And yes, Shabnam, we did wear saris (read on for the chosen colour, dear all who've been following the past post)..

Coral jasmine ~ exclusive, especial, endearing gems.

But, here's what this post's for, dear all:

"For every man in the world functions to the best of his ability,

and no one does less than his best,

no matter what he may think about it.

~ John Steinbeck, "The Pearl"

Thought that inspiring quote deserved to be shared ~
Take care all, minerva*

p.s. And finally, the answers: Chose a crimson (actually a cross between burgundy & crimson) und Sun-gold sari for the Investiture. A Mysore silk (one of my fave types) for its versatility ~ comfy, not overly grandish yet subtly sweet. Thanks, dear Az, for trying!

To mine dearhearts, a little note

2006-07-08T23:50:00.000+08:00

Heya all - ok, this 'lil note's especially dedicated [as indicated by the DailyOm link from the title herein] to Minerva's dearhearts ~ especially dear Goddess, DM & Az,
who've been taking time off your busy schedules (yes, I do understand, dear ones) and dropping by to spread your priceless sun-golden rays of warmth & cheer ~ you know not how much joy you bring, and I do hope my words, can reward you with that much heartfelt bliss as you've gifted me with. Thanks, dear all!

As promised, this's gonna be a cursory note on progress thus far:
Things have been ok - yours truly's learning to adjust into this new threshold of work, still trying to integrate this strangely dynamic world of work into everyday life, learning.
And there've been so many new experiences in just these two weeks of this new life..

But, here's what I'd meant to share with you, a lovely quote that rings so true at this ephemeral point in time - from Danny Cox's superb There Are No Limits:

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.

To keep our faces towards change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable."
~ Helen Keller

As dearer friends might know, am trying to recover invaluable moments aside from the frenetic pace these days for the things closest to yours truly's heart ~ like spending time with dear ones, and listening to beloved melodies (it's been so long since i've listened to a beautiful tamil or hindi melody) ~ speaking of which, some melodies of late:
Maksim's beautiful "The Flower Duet" (thought it resembled some mellifluous indian melodies, actually - excluding the tribal notes), & a heartwarming, honey-drenched homecoming too.

Meanwhile, take care all & stay special,
minerva*
*p.s.i Been amused time and again, that yours truly can still retain that old writing relish, as well as rediscovering the 'ol wide-eyed joy in learning new things, like the uber-cool mask-making (something I've been intrigued by, for quite sometime now) segment at the (profession-related) Learning Fest last Friday.
And we got to bring our own half-masks (of plaster-of-paris) home too! Had loadsa fun doing that as well as making friends with my two sweet student-assistants who'd kept my (proud) creation aside so as to present it, with an adorable mock-congratulatory air, at the end of the workshop. Thanks gals, for the cheery camaraderie & learning fun.
*p.s.ii And yes, will be having my Investiture (that will be the Convocation for the post-graduate diploma over the past year) this Thursday. Used to think that details like what-to-wear choices for the big day was rather petty - but after awhile, one realizes that, perhaps these are just little concerns in the larger-than-life prospect of meeting old chums again.. (So, go on, dear ones, guess the colours of the saris we'll be wearing.)

*A final aside:
Although flattery does not work with those of the *Minervan Order *ahem* ~ no, it doesn't, it's always a heartwarming pleasure to know that dear friends care to sit through my admittedly, exhaustingly-lengthy entries & yet, enjoy my writing as much as I do. Take care all of ya & hugs, minerva*

where little dreams may go

2006-06-24T00:01:00.000+08:00

Yep, am back, dear all.

Was a good, albeit too short a trip - to my late grandma's place in Malacca.
Home to many old childhood vacation memories, cherished & golden pulsing, silvern threads close to mine heart.

It's strangely comforting how - even as times change (and people & their respective agendas when active, definitely do) - there remains some vestiges of an older world of values upheld in wholehearted trust (as children are wont to be), of unquestioned, mutual respect for elders & peers alike, of unspoken (for there wasn't a need to, it was as absolute as the revered silence that guarded the impulse) love, compassion & warmth for one another.

It might even sound strange today yes - as has recurred in these Minervan musings that old friends are probably familiar with by now - how it is even possible in today's largely materialistic world that revolves mechanically on the pragmatic axis of economic growth & vested (self-)interests, to sustain these old values of yore. How such cherished value-encrusted, bejewelled memories of a more blissful past can still exist, and amusingly, still be relived in little moments with the few special people with whom we've shared many of our happier childhood memories.

A childhood where every end-of-year school vacation would mean a holiday trip to visit these few souls, our (late) grandma, my oldest uncle, and two of his daughters i.e. our cousins superbly adept at so much of what it took to bring smiles to naive/happy kids, including weaving hilariously absorbing bedtime stories whose gist has survived the test of time. So now, it happens that, through the decades, things have changed, people have moved in/out, but we do try to keep up the old trip of nostalgia.

Was an all-gals (woo hoo!) trip this time (with Mom & Thuz), which translates roughly to having loadsa fun & being the (chatty/spontaneous/weird/belting-out songs aloud/truer?) selves we'd be when noone's watching. So, there.

And, it was heartwarming to notice the unexpected, little moments (or in dear Tagore's words, the little "wayside shrines that surprise me at every bend") wherein these few people, in their own special (silent & and unsung) ways revived my old hope that (just) perhaps these old values still do have a place in our midst. Like when one sis gifts me with an (ahem) Hariji cd (that she'd bought & kept for yours truly) & another makes tea again - for me, cos' we'd returned late in the evening, and missed the earlier round. Little moments, subtle expressions, well-timed/deft (but tactful, always) jokes of old word-play, of humming/ cherishing common fave songs together.. these are what make up this older world set slightly away from the more clockwork, efficient & rule-governed orderliness of the driven society yours truly has grown up in. Of an older world preserved in nostalgia - and recreated beautifully by the very people who'd made it possible in the older days of childhood gaiety.

Musings Galore

So, as you can see, it was a great time for more quiet meditations - and perhaps, as I've often felt, my musings have moved on to more serious issues.
Like parenting (as whether exposing one's children to a rougher/harsher reality of the 'harsh world-realities out there' could actually better equip them with the practical fortitude to soldier on vs. providing them with a much sheltered & 'safer' environment, painting more rose-tinted perspectives of life ahead and (perhaps) doing a disservice (albeit unwittingly) to the young ones?,
to how so-very-different almost every generation of kids turn out, the values they uphold & celebrate in their starry-eyed gazes reflecting total naivete and blind faith in cyclical fads (which often do not hark back to their own identities) - and why this is so?

Is it the kids, or should they be deemed as 'products' of their parents' experimentations with parenting - for what else can this tricky (but as is lauded, worthwhile) & definitely arduous skill be referred as?

Understandably, noone is born a parent (just like the professional vocations, no one's born a doctor, a teacher, a lawyer - we all need to be trained if not by formal education then by the grandmaster, Life itself) - and this epiphany only hits us well after adolescence, the early years of adulthood, wherein we realise that the elders aren't quite the infallible, omnisicient superhumans we were brought up to believe/revere.

And as we start running along on our own tracks of life, blazing our own trails, and handling the surprises/challenges/opportunities that come our way - it is only through living the experiences our elders had undergone long before that each of us, would probably come close to understanding what being a parent/elder/towering exemplar-guardian could probably mean..

* * *

Aha, so much for musing on a relatively distant future.
But as I'd said, it was nice, getting some time, away from the worries of the storms of late - where I'm constantly amused by how I'm (surprisingly) consistently able to dream up more enthusiastic scenarios of the future, even as the looming, benighted painful memories return - how Thuz highlights her judgment of yours truly as 'passionate' (of issues/people/ideas close to my heart? I know not the exact subjects but I'm amused, of course), even as I'm regaling her with my not-too-entertaining anxieties for the future and such. Not to brag, but this noting down of special comments is a substitute at a time, where I feel that my memory has weakened a great deal, esp. after the recent down-phase.

And again, this has turned out more as a thesis-to-be than the short post it was intended to be. Apologies to dear friends, really. Before I leave, some lovely snippets from an awesome read, There Are No Limits by Danny Cox (p.161, 233 & 207 resp.: 1998), passed to me by Thuz.

"The time to be happy is now; the place to be happy is here; the way to be happy is to make others so."

~ Robert Ingersoll (early 20th C. author and orator)

"The world is a university. Events are teachers. Happiness is the graduation point. Character is the God-given diploma." ~ Anonymous

And my fave of the lot:

"Yet keep within your heart

A place apart.

Where little dreams may go,

May thrive and grow.

Hold fast - hold fast your dreams!"

~ Louise Driscoll, poet

Take care all & stay special,
minerva*
*p.s.i [updated] Been awhile since the last time i'd allowed myself a movie ~ Caught the considerably nice movie The Hero (am still amused by the myriad identities adopted by the protagonist: Cool). Now, would friends wanta warrant a guess at my fave song (with lovely lyrics, truly)from the film..? (*surprise)

*p.s.ii Am foreseeing that posts here will probably be less frequent especially, as yours truly enters the threshold of work (and will finally understand why her dear working blog-Fellows are so busy too). Meanwhile, take care all.

Be back.

2006-06-18T13:30:00.000+08:00

Hi all, just a short note to keep dear friends informed that yours truly will be away on a short trip until the June the 22nd (a 'lil getaway perhaps, before work begins the following week).

Am sorry I haven't been able to leave notes at most of my dearest blog-chums, but I have been coming by - it's just that these few days of late have been pretty downish, and I'd rather share my joys when they come than spread the gloom, yea - Hoping all of you are doing fine.

'Til I'm back..

*An old fave tune that kept running through my head after so long, for a reason i know not. But still, here - Sarfaroshi Ki Tamanna (II), from an equally memorable movie I'd enjoyed.

*And a 'lil poem, to tide by these times ~ by dear Takurdaji of course:

The day is no more, the shadow is upon the earth.

It is time that I go to the stream to fill my pitcher.

The evening air is eager with the sad music of the water.

Ah, it calls me out into the dusk.

In the lonely lane there is no passer-by, the wind is up, the ripples are rampant in the river.

I know not if I shall come back home.

I know not whom I shall chance to meet.

There at the fording in the little boat the unknown man plays upon his lute.

* * *

Just hoping that this 'lil getaway might bring lighter moments to perk things up a bit.. and more chances to try out my new hp camera, as the periwinkles above, too.
Leaving you with Harisaab's lovely melody playing ~
Meanwhile, take care all and stay cool,
Wishes, Minerva*

Living an experiment

2006-06-13T13:12:00.000+08:00

Heya all,
hope all's well for all of ya.

Well, as usual, thought I'd share a bit of what I enjoy with dear souls here. Big HUG of Thanks for dearest freundins who've been dropping by to spread their inimitable Cheers so valuable at this point.

First up, A New Melody, yay!
Guess we all know of timeless songs, (which are rather difficult to find online or otherwise) - and after ages of searching, found this well-loved song, performed by Harisaab, from the old Tamil movie, "Thottachinungi".

*Fun Fact 1: Thottachinungi refers to the mimosa (or touch-me-not, as it's often called locally, and quite a fave of local young uns' who i hope, still revel in the unspoken joys of watching the leaves close & unfurl at the touch of innocence). The movie, if i remember rightly was well-received & this song in particular, is still an unsung fave of old.

*Fun Fact 2: Just heard this song, by chance, on the radio this morning - which reminded me of how the song has some great, inspirational lines of Hope & cheer ~ especially when life may seem to be fraught with uncertainties aplenty.

Minerva's fave lines:
(from the 2nd verse of Manamae Thottachinungi [The Heart's a Mimosa])

The Wind has never known its own path,

the Sea has never understood its waves,

'Tis the law of the world (X2),

And just like this, the sadness in your life will (disperse)/change Tomorrow..

The heart's a mimosa

It will bloom on its own, dear..

Lovely lines, na? And there's no greater joy, I believe, than in sharing the relish of an absolutely beautiful song with loved ones, so here. Enjoy!

*Quotes to muse over

If you don't like something, change it.

If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain.

~ Maya Angelou

My great hope is to laugh as much as I cry;

to get my work done and try to love somebody

and have the courage to accept the love in return.

~ Maya Angelou

I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.

~ Walt Whitman

All life is an experiment.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Take care all & Wishes always, Minerva*

Learning & Moving on..

2006-06-11T13:36:00.000+08:00

Heya all, well, one last Sunday before we become official property of our new places of work (will be reporting for induction prog. this monday).

As aforementioned, have loads to share, but let's have a Newsflash, first.
Top 'o the News

*Am trying out this newsfeed service, Bloglines - Came across it sometime ago & freshly recommended by friends again, so let's give it a go.. which guarantees my being updated with dear Minervan Fellows' latest posts, yay!

*Speaking of Minervan Fellows, a new member to the 'hood: S W, my good friend & future colleague. Am still awed by the genuine passion for the discipline (geography) that exudes from her blog, akin to *Wen's Geog-blog too
Now let's see, latest happenings first:

Went for Mom's good friend's (a rather quiet, sweet natured lady in the neighbourhood, whose mannerisms resemble that of Ma's so much that we refer to her - affectionately, of course - as Mom's twin..) daughter's engagement, just a few blocks away. As we left, had this feeling that we'd kinda made the dear lady's day 'cos firstly, it's only our Mom who's usually going for such functions etc. (which i suspect has built up a rather 'exclusive'/only-appearing-rarely-at-major functions impression of us, hmm). Thereagain, i've always believed of being true to myself too - that i'm most alive/myself in the company of dearest friends. There.

It was a fine evening, with not too much of a crowd, and still a cosy-home ambience - had fun helping around with the pre-ceremony preps (like applying vermillion dots to turmeric-dressed coconuts for auspicious reasons, cutting lengths of jasmine flowers strung together for guests) and chatting with this 67-year-old grandma who proved an amusing conversationalist (who kept giving me suggestions that I should, once I get to work, get a bigger nose-stud [of diamond, that's best], just 'cos i'd complimented her on hers). Not bad, eh?

Then, there were abrupt, cool moments when the priest (iyer) conducting the rites suddenly whipped up his handphone to answer his call - thought the juxtaposition of handphone-wielding technology vs. tradition, as represented by the chanting priest, was rather amusing. Loved the fact that he started with the Gayatri Mantra, of course.

my fave shot from the engagement: the Aarthi

Back in time, had some fun/respite during the post-Practicum enrichment-cum-feedback lectures & tours. Besides meeting up with old friends, had enjoyed the trip to the Armour Institute at Sungei Gedong camp. Came out feeling all proud of the defence capabilities & such, but riding (replete with a kevlar helmet, yep) on an all-terrain carrier was kinda cool too. Had a good time learning more about chemical warfare & the defensive measures & equipment, holding up a locally-made rifle - and discussing sizes of (entry &) exit wounds, heavens (brought back the old days of first aid training..). Most of all, i guess i like the primary thrust of 'deterrence and diplomacy' first, and not offensive military action, that wins Minervan support here.

Next, some musings on a current read, Vairamuthu's Kallikkaattu Edhikasam (The Epic of Kallikkaadu), by Vairamuthu. Have a feelin' this post's gonna strain my dear guests' eyes, so just to add, do feel free to read it at your own leisure, yea ~

* * *

Actually, I’d thought I’d probably stop reading the novel after a few opening chapters (esp. cos our holiday-of-sorts would end pretty soon too) – had just picked up the book, got mesmerized all over again by the sense of reverential awe that sweeps through me, everytime (I’ve realised) I chance across an Indian literary work. In retrospect, guess it’s my childhood love for my mother tongue that must have blossomed to awe for world languages steadily – followed by English (perhaps Literature, which came in much later, moreso than language), and then the languages of the people whose inspiration touched/accompanied my life-journey as an undergraduate on a strange quest, Tagore especially.

Yep, perhaps the music & literature close to mine heart were also forged from the works of the legends/artistes/geniuses I’ve found inspiring & soul-lifting along this lone journey – and via them, a newfound soft spot for more Indo-European languages like Hindi, German.
Have always loved learning the lexicon of languages (more than the more rigid grammar/structures) and carefully keeping the flame of the love of languages (perhaps, more formal learning in the near future? Let’s see) burning on softly.

But, I guess it almost always starts with (quoting an old Prof.) the language one learns on one’s mother’s lap. So there, back to the novel. Been around five years since the last Tamil work I’d read (back in the old pre-U days) and actually found myself stumbling over the read at points. But the novel’s more gripping than I’d estimated.

Although am still in the first quarter, here’re my quickie impressions:
The novel revolves around an enduring community of hardy souls – villagers living on arid, non-arable (or Kallikkaadu, hence the title) land. We are introduced to the daily travails/joys/pains of the main character, grandad Peiyathevar & his family. It's meant to be a tragedy of course, considering the fact that the book was meant to be a record of actual villagers displaced by dam constructions. But perhaps, it's the development & bittersweet life-events of the characters that touch us most. Just this to say: that the author, Vairamuthu still hails as a poet, first and foremost. A poet writing a novel (and not as a novelist) for it is obvious, especially as he paints pictures of life's most intimate pains & joys ever so intricately (and with condiserable tact) as only his poetic images can. Moving read.

* * *

Ok doks, for a pretty looong read (you made it!), a quick end. Take care all & Wishes, Minerva*

*p.s.i Some great faves of old, as usual ~ from Harisaab's Kaash (fave tracks incl. Kaash, Ab Ke Baras &amp;amp; Aandhiyaan) & a new, much-loved song "Oru Maalai" (An Evening) by Karthik, too (from Ghajini).

*p.s.ii. Oh, but how could I ever forget ~ Am currently welcoming the newest member, Choti Mukti to the Minervan battalion. Older friends might remember my loyal Mukti, replete with old varsity memories.. Been searching for an apt name, and although there can never be another Mukti (sob), for now, Choti Mukti (for 'Little Mukti') shall suffice.

Believe.

2006-06-09T23:40:00.000+08:00

Hi all, hope everything's been fine for all of ya.
As it's been of late, things have been on the mend, still managing relapses of intermittent ups-and-downs, but will be ok. No worries - have to go on.

Before all else, A BIG HUG (and speedy wishes of recovery too) to dear friend *Auriond, who gifted Thuz & myself this Lovely portrait of Duane, her amusing artistic brainchild really. Love the message, & will cherish it always, dear *Auriond. Thanks chum & take care!

Have more than this to share, but will stop at this museworthy parable for today (with multiple versions available, but I guess one's free to choose the closing interpretations).

Take care & Wishes all, minerva*

The Pencil Parable

Long long ago, the Pencil Maker spoke to the pencil.
"There are five things you need to know before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and you will become the best pencil you can be."

One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in someone's hand.

Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but this is required if you are to become a better pencil.

Three: You have the ability to correct any mistakes you might make.

Four: The most important part will always be what's inside.

Five: No matter what the condition, you must continue to write. You must always leave a clear legible mar, no matter how difficult the situation.

The pencil understood, promising to remember, and went into the box fully understanding its Maker's purpose.

Now put yourselves in place of the pencil ...

(Image courtesy of PartsnPieces, from flickr)

New Beginnings

2006-06-05T22:48:00.000+08:00

Hi all, as always, cheers to good health & better days for us all. (Extra-special Hugz to dear Az ~ We'll be fine, Az. This too, shall pass, oui?)

Still elbow-deep in clearing away old clutter (for the upcoming phases now) & armed with a new goal (woo hoo!), just wanted to share a lovely song I'd heard from Finding Forrester. Alternatively, you can listen to Judy Garland's rendition from The Wizard of Oz (1939) too.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

When all the world is a hopeless jumble

And the raindrops tumble all around

Heaven opens a magic lane

When all the clouds darken up the skyway

There's a rainbow highway to be found

Leading from your window pane

To a place behind the sun

Just a step beyond the rain

Somewhere over the rainbow way up high

There's a land that I've heard of once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue

And the dreams that you dare to dream

Really do come true

Some day I'll wish upon a star

And wake up where the clouds are far behind me

Where troubles melt like lemon drops

Away above the chimney tops

That's where you'll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow blue birds fly

Birds fly over the rainbow

Why then, oh why can't I?

If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow

Why oh why can't I?

From dear friend, Thangam (June 5, 2006)

Okay, as usual, a Minervan treat for dearer Friends, yea:

Links to the lovely melodies running through my mind all day ~ Aayo Re Sakhii & esp. Bangri Marorii, rendered by Sukhwinder Singh & Sadhna Sargam. Absolutely beautiful works (of course) by A. R. Rahman, for Deepa Mehta's Water. And for a fine review, here.

Take care all & Wishes, Minerva*

p.s. Chanced across the Tamil poet (cum songwriter), Vairamuthu's Sahitya Academy Award winning novel Kallikkaattu Edhikasam (The Epic of Kallikkadu), where 'Kallikkadu', I believe would roughly translate to arid, non-arable land. Ma, who'd loved the read years ago, summed it up as a novel based on the tragic lives of a certain group of villagers whose lives are displaced by the construction of major dam-works. Kinda reminded me of Arundhati Roy's involvement in rallying against the construction of the Narmada Dam some years ago. I remember enjoying Roy's Essay on her take on nuclear-weaponry, "The End of Imagination" on a bus ride, a few years ago - gotta read this essay sometime too. Back to my point, it's been awhile since I've picked up a Tamil novel/literary work ~ but the first few pages did bring back the old relish of imagination, which only literature close to one's heart could bring.

*pedo mellon a minno

2006-06-03T23:50:00.000+08:00

Hi all. As always, hope all of you (especially dear Minervan Fellows) are fine.
Just to stall the premature anxieties from creeping up again (or Hysterico Passio!, a la King Lear) and to keep spirits up, a nice feel-good song I've been meaning to put up for awhile now.

Have grown to like the song, mostly thanks to Thuz, who loves it too - from the theme song in Hallmark's Sue Thomas F B Eye (an enjoyable police drama with memorable screen camaraderie). Here then:

Who I Am

(by Jessica Andrews)

If I live to be a hundred

And never see the seven wonders

That'll be alright.

Should my tender heart be broken

I will cry those teardrops knowing

I will be just fine,

Cause nothing changes who I am.

... Sometimes I'm clueless and I'm clumsy

But I've got friends that love me

And they know just where I stand

It's all a part of me

And that's who I am.

* * *

And before I take my leave ~ Another lovely song, for us all, esp. for those dear friends who need a warm, musical embrace to tide by tough times: Bad Day, by Daniel Powter (it may take awhile to load, but patience is a rewarding virtue, we learn). Enjoy!

(Courtesy of ifilms)

Take care all & Wishes,
Minerva*
*p.s. For those who are a-wondering about the title, it's from dear Tolkien's LOTR of course, old Elven tongue spoken by dear Gandalf - for "Speak, Friend, and enter." So there, this haven for Minervan friends.

the journey of Hope continues..

2006-05-29T23:56:00.000+08:00

Hi all,
As always, hope all of you are doing fine - a quickie post here now.

Reflections of late:

*That writing down one's affirmations (to just play around with the ephemeral nature of thoughts/words) helps remind yours truly of the promises of Hope i've made to myself. Somehow, it helps one stand on the firm ground of steadily-restoring hope, denying permanence to the intermittent slidings into older wounds & painful memories.

*That despite all the momentary enlightenment one can gain (agreed, a couple of decades plus a few more years atop that allow for just a modest bit of experience in this grand-journey of Life) from exposure to inspirational quotes & writings, there's nothing quite like individual suffering (the dear Bard was right, then - as in Regan's reference to Suffering as a schoolmaster) to teach one certain truths of this complex stage of Life, right.

That it took this long for yours truly to realise - for myself - this one fact that:

Everyone has her/his own battles.

That is, instead of simply leaving a fatalistic vacuum (which may bring comfort to some, I do not deny that) of 'It's just meant to be that way, I guess. I'll just have to accept it,' it sure helps when one (of one's own accord) realises that

We all have our own unique journeys to lead.

Our individual trails - of joys, pains, suffering, epiphanies, lessons, challenges.

And it helps, as I'd directly mentioned to her, to have a friend's (and a professional full of years of experience & wisdom) heartwarming words of Hope, at this point of steady restoration of old dreams & Hope. Ending the call with the especial affirmation of surety that things happen, because they were designed with a higher purpose - is something, Aasiriyai, that I treasure with a renewed understanding. Thanks so much, Aasiriyai!

Take care all & Wishes,
Minerva*
*p.s.i Of course, been reading & writing more of late, to bolster this healing phase. Latest read - delving in beloved themes of identity (& home): Hari Kunzru's travel writing (no surprise, here) entitled The Impressionist.
*p.s. ii To dearer freunds und freundins, am (slowly) regaining the old joys again ~ like enjoying the here-and-Now whilst making chai for the family in the evenings, listening to Ma when she shares tales from her childhood days..
*p.s.iii And just to share the latest melody on Minerva's mind ~ the rather peppy number, Solla vaarthaigal (Words to speak) by Harisaab, Udit Narayan & Ganga. Enjoy!

reclaiming Hope

2006-05-27T20:03:00.000+08:00

Heya all, hope you've all been fine.
As you can see, am healing slowly - (re)learning to accept things as they are, taking things one at a time, and learning to move on.

(courtesy of Spell with Flickr)

Most importantly, of course, this whole self-instructed phase is about reclaiming Hope anew.
With the anticipation of new hobbies/beginnings even perhaps etc., whilst reminding myself of the extant blessings in 'tis life, of supportive family and friends dear to mine heart & memory. Even dear Uncleji, one of yours truly's mentor - from all the snippets of delicious knowledge, of basics of world history/socio-politics, of lit. quotes (even as he had compared the earlier phase to the dear Bard's Tempest and that it will pass, when he had flown down) and of a Minervan fave - of language & etymology (as from the rudiments of Bengali he'd learnt, for a memorable instance): if yours truly loves travel through lit., then my uncle probably lives it via his jet-setting (professional) life) who called just to tell me not to be disheartened and reminds me of the exact affirmation I'd held onto at that time (that whenever we feel down, we gotta remember there are always people at worse-off situations than us, yes).

Anyway, it's beautiful indeed how - in this stage of self-healing, yours truly has chanced across reads that seem so apt for this point in time. Just picked up Paulo Coelho's Manual of the Warrior of Light (HarperCollins Publishers, 2002). Chanced across the Warrior of the Light Online & the dear Sir's blog too, do check them out, ya.
Some excerpts (p17, 25) that ring so true to mine heart, at this juncture:

* * *

[A warrior of light] knows that he has learned something with every battle he has fought, but many of those lessons have caused him unnecessary suffering. More than once he has wasted his time fighting for a lie. And he has suffered for people who did not deserve his love. ... Victors never make the same mistake twice. That is why the warrior only risks his heart for something worthwhile.

* * *

Warriors of light ... are of this world, they are part of the lives of other people and they set out on their journey with no saddlebags and no sandals. They are often cowardly. They do not always make the right decisions.

They suffer over the most trivial things, ... sometimes believe they are incapable of growing. They frequently deem themselves unworthy of any blessing or miracle.

They are not always sure what they are doing here. They spend many sleepless nights, believing that their lives have no meaning.

That is why they are warriors of light. Because they make mistakes. Because they ask themselves questions. Because they are looking for a reason - and are sure to find it.

* * *

And thanks to Komz, I caught a lovely movie - Gus Van Sant's Finding Forrester (2000). Admittedly, there've been few joyous moments of late, but here, this sweet movie did come close to evoking tears of joyous sentiment, yep. Which reminds me of the film Thuz shared with yours truly a few weeks back ~ the memorable Veer-Zaara by Yash Chopra. No spoilers here, now - but recommended to all friends.

Take care all & wishes, Minerva*
p.s. As always, a Minervan fave melody before I leave (again, advanced healing in progress as evidenced via renewed joy at old faves & saving Roja Janeman, Piya Tora & Nila Kaikirathu as new ringtones, yay): Muthal Poo from Vedham (a lovely movie, btw), by Harisaab & Sujatha.

revival

2006-05-24T02:26:00.000+08:00

Hi all. After that prior post that brought with it, much more peace – am learning to take it one at a time – and notably, to try & write it down as a self-meditation-of-sorts.

Life goes on..

Anyway, the main message of today's (i.e. of yours truly's ruminations these past few days) about how whatever happens, however much our worlds are shaken (perceptions coloured as they are, by our cumulative experiences), the world still keeps on spinning, and Life goes on.

As brutally simple as it sounds – making for an easily pretty quote, yes – but how poignant it feels especially when the realization of its sheer truth hits one as one is recovering from a relatively harsh phase.

Was looking through old Convocation photographs as well as old handphone text messages from dearest friends (Alice, Thuz, Shabnam, Bettina before she left for home) from the cherished varsity years, of happier moments frozen in time, of a (surprisingly) wholly different set of beliefs about the world – of how life has changed so much, and how as we grow and move on in life, our worlds of knowledge/experience keep expanding, and of wherever we stand in our life-journeys, Life goes on.

As difficult as it is to believe that harsh storms pass, especially when one seems to be perpetually rooted at the eye of the storm, that there will come a time when the phase is over.
That it’s up to us to keep looking on ahead, with renewed hope and courage, despite whatever happens.

Dear friends might recognise this as an affirmation to myself, yes it is – life has to go on, and yours truly will soldier on.
Take care all & Wishes, Minerva*
p.s. This sounds odd as a post-script but I just wanna share this with dear friends – to do with new tidings & musings (yay):
*Got a new handphone model, yay. So there, as I’m seeking a closure to the current passing phase, and attempting to rediscover my old hope, lost smiles and wonder for life, something new to keep me engaged.
Strange really, how fast I’ve recovered at least a bit of the old excitement that comes with engaging in something new (like this old joy of Creating via writing that returns like a whiff of the zephyr, mmm)
*Came across some lovely articles (from Arts & Letters Daily) that reminded me of memorable times (the gd ‘ol years of academia, sigh), esp. my final-year research paper on global identity based on a favourite read on contemporary travel literature, Pico Iyer’s The Global Soul (recommended to all friends). Of old interests rekindled of celebrating diversity & the twin-paradox of homogenisation & diversity, brought about by our global realities. Awesome.
*In line with this healing phase, am slowly regaining the old joys from beloved melodies – for today then, do check out dear A.R.Rahman’s lovely songs from Deepa Mehta’s “Water” ~ Absolutely beautiful.

healing anew

2006-05-24T02:20:00.000+08:00

Hi all.
As I’ve mentioned to a few dearer friends, am now in a self-initiated phase of recovery. Lots has happened in my attachment (recent Practicum experience that ended on may 5) – and although am back for post-practicum forums in school/training, back with old friends and tutors, I guess yours truly’s been morphed by the ordeal that has passed.

It is true that what has transpired these past few months have been an odd mix of experiences – there have been amusingly happier moments of course – I would be speaking untruths if I denied that. But, so much of what I remember are those that are etched with pain, of unacknowledged efforts, of unwitting mistakes borne of naivety, of a confusing almost-Sisyphean task (strange how I can glimpse parallels between the books I’ve wanted to read, in this instance, Camus, and certain points, as we pause in life) of trying to persevere against odds doled out daily.

It is over now, the assessment phase has been cleared and my official posting to a (new) workplace will effect from June.

***

I know I am forever indebted to those who were there, braving the storms, and bearing with my battle-weary accounts, lending their shoulders and voices, Mom, Thuz, Koms (our teen sis), even Dad (whom, all through our childhood and growing-up years, Thuz and I have maintained a palpable distance of fearful reverence as in so many orthodox Indian homes) who shared his own bitter experiences back in his first days of work, my truly supportive Supervisor, and old bosom-mate Alice.

***

Still perhaps, because the residual memories hark mostly of the old pain and wounds I do not want to reopen and relive, I have not quite shared the experience with friends back in school.

An old teacher (and now mentor, she used to teach Thuz & myself Tamil in primary school, and is probably one of the people who inspired my love for languages) even called to get me to share the experience, to help “clear the clutter” (as she had put it), and the weighty mental baggage that has tested some foundations of yours truly, of the value of knowledge/wisdom in life, of the efficacy of education & of imbibing values in today’s young, of trust in people (seniors, colleagues), of hope in better tomorrows irrespective of repetitive whiplashes of setbacks.

In truth, I do not know. I do not know if I should speak to her – and if I do, which shall I share? From where do I begin? To someone who has cared for Thuz and I long after we graduated from her tutelage, I can only offer truth. But, re-evoking and thus, reliving the truth hurts.

After all that has transpired, while perhaps I should talk it out (or write, as my pen/blog-haven here beckons), Mom, who understands us beyond our silence and muted pains, has advised yours truly to try and forget this phase. Similar to what my experienced tutor and empathising friends have said, that this was just a ‘nasty start’, and not quite reflective of how things are in other workplaces – in short, that things will be better, elsewhere and that I should look to start life anew. Forgetting is tough, and forgiving others whom I’d trusted, and myself, for errors (I’ve found time and again, that I am my harshest critic, perhaps a vestige from the old secondary school days of perfectionism, and that I still do hold high standards for myself, even in new ventures) demands so much more strength, I’ve found.

How true it is, the fact that ‘it is easy to be cheerful in happier times’ and that it takes so much more human effort and dextrous strength to pick up again the old torch of Hope, when things aren’t going the way we want them to.

***

But if recovering my older self, my passion for learning that overrode anxieties, the old ease of recognising wonder/beauty in life and of rediscovering Hope in better tomorrows involves renewed strength, then this will have to be the way to go.

I am healing fine, no worries – it’s a slow yet steady process, with more and more glimpses of hope to fight the intermittent anxieties. Am actually looking forward to engaging in newer things, as well as returning to my old loves that used to effuse soulful joy – of writing, musing, listening to beloved melodies.

For the moment, whilst learning to accept the here-and-now and attempting to regain my old excitement for new ventures (to do with new hobbies and gadgets too, will update on that if things go well - let’s see) to infuse some wonder back into this track, I have picked myself up and am moving on ahead. Now, all there is to it is to keep looking on ahead, at the sunshine and to keep going on.

Bestest wishes all, Minerva

*p.s. Minerva finds it comfortingly strange that both her bosom-mate of old, Alice and a newer friend in school, Anna, suggested I start writing (professionally). It used to be an old dream – writing, but its value in this curious journey of life I tread, seems to keep recurring. Just maybe, let’s see…

a brand new start

2006-05-18T22:48:00.000+08:00

Heya all, hope all of you've been doing fine.
hmm, I don't know if this return feels like a 'bang'.. (Thanks for the continued warmth & support, DM), but this note's a tribute to all of you who've been there for me during the tougher times of late.

It's been a strange journey, and - as those dearer/nearer might know - i'd taken some time-out to try to recover and heal from the wounds and to look on ahead.
But I prefer to talk about the here-and-now and the people who matter to me most, so here goes.

* An old & lovely image from older, dearer friend, Zombie *

'Tis strange how in the toughest of times, I catch myself musing how

I am blessed enough to have so many special souls around me to offer me warmth & solace in the special ways only you can..
*of family, cousin sis & my dear nieces, especially dearest Mom & Thuz - who've been there through every crazy turn these days have brought,
*of friends back in school now - it feels odd being back in the company of a sane world, of reassuring friends & Tutors - and I have older friends stepping aside from the daily grind to offer me a warm chat, hug & strength,
*of especial blog-friends, even stranger still, especially 'cos we've only been familiarized through this fleeting space here, like dear Goddess, Zombie & DM, of course, with your regular notes & email too!

* Thank you so much for being here, dear ones. *Danke schon *Shukriya, dear freund(in)s.*

Am feeling much better now, after considerable reflection & talking with friends & family, and just to let all you dearhearts who matter so much to me know that yours truly's looking on ahead, with slowly-renewing Hope, yes.

And just to share an excerpt that rings so true & just about sums up the latest state of affairs in Minerva's humble little world of musings (dearest friends know i'm ok when i've begun musing & listening to beloved melodies again, yea), from a book Thuz passed me lately.
From M.J. Ryan's The Power of Patience (p.12-3), a lovely collection of museworthy thoughts:

* * *

Patience also gives us the ability to put up graciously with obstacles in our path, to respond to life’s challenges with courage, strength, and optimism... Being patient in these circumstances doesn’t mean that we have to like the curve-balls that get hurled at us.

But we recognise that they come with being alive and so we don’t add the additional suffering of bitterness, revenge, or hopelessness to the mix.

Rather than whining or complaining, we roll up our sleeves and tackle the task at hand.

... Through this acceptance of others as they are, and of life as it is showing up right now, we prove our true strength and beauty as human beings.

It’s easy to be accepting when all is well.

But when we are patient when things aren’t going the way we want, we truly shine as heroes.

* * *

For every shade of truth that these words resound to Urs truly, it is truly a bracingly encouraging excerpt. And if I could, but add -
that just as we are on the way to becoming the heroines/heroes we are meant to be when we keep striving on ahead in difficult times, then every special person - who was there alongside these warrior-souls, ensuring they keep trudging on - are just as great souls too.

And as I've said, to all you dearhearts who've been there for me, with me during these times, this note is a Tribute.
Minervan hugs & wishes always*

a note to all of Minerva's dear kindred souls

2006-04-29T14:40:00.000+08:00

heya all, as above, 'tis here's a note to dearhearts who've been dropping by to check if Urs truly's been doing ok & to spread cheer in the Special ways only you can evoke..

reporting from the battlegrounds:
As most of you already know, am in a rather challenging phase now -
In truth, it's been an odd mix of surprising, painful, draining experiences and Urs truly's been doing her best to stand tall and hold through this ordeal-of-sorts -

Wielding her sword high, despite the fresh wounds & pains anew,
Striding on despite her chinked armour, battered armies, with exhausted-and-yet-consistently-arising will,
Braving fresh attacks on the erstwhile guarded fortresses of upheld notions of trust, Effort, life

Old Minervan friends would recognise this image (please click to read the song) ~ it's just that it helps affirm that old resilience: so appealing, so true.

Am sorry if all this sounds so dire, dear all, but facing up to life - be it thunderstorms or the fiercest onslaughts upon her battlements of courage - Truth is a virtue Minerva values dearly, and it's only fair her Friends are informed too.

Not all's been grey, though: Picked up Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose ~ and interestingly enough, so much of Tolle's writing rings so familiar to Urs truly's own musings, hmm..

& As always, these dark days have had their moments of joy too: Minerva's heartfelt Birthday wishes of good health, cheer & every joy that life can bring to her dearest Alice & Shabnam. And of course, heartiest Birthday wishes to the dear Hariji himself, too.

Am glad most of you are doing fine, do take care all
Minerva
p.s. i do not usually write from moments of deep pain/exhaustion, but this scribbled note's for concerned friends & also 'cos dear Shabnam wants me to keep writing..

(Updated) p.s. ii. 'Tis strange how just browsing through a few intellect-tickling articles can cheer Minerva in these dark days of late: Came across a handful of lovely articles. The first, "Medical Science is Missing Its Soul" (from a local paper) by Dr. Robert Pollack, gave his interesting take on how (according to the Prof.) it is time that professors in science affirm their true calling in performing their professional duties, by striking a better balance between upholding the professional "dispassion" required of them whilst seeking to promote a more "humane version of the biomedical sciences" - Still, reading more of his articles should give a clearer idea of his take, I believe.

The next two come from a favoured website, Arts & Letters Daily: One on 'refashioned,' entertainingly cheery & happ-ier endings to chosen literary classics & the other on 'Pursuing Happiness' - the Ig & Og Way (To find out who/whatever happened to Ig/Og), here please.

And the best for last ~ an e-version of Prof. Lorrie Moore's refreshing article on the dear Bard, i'd relished from the local paper - Enjoy! Take care all.

Never too late

2006-03-15T17:30:00.000+08:00

It is never too late to give up our fears and prejudices.

No way of thinking or doing, however ancient, can be trusted without proof.

What everybody echoes or in silence passes by as true today may turn out to be falsehood tomorrow, mere smoke of opinion, which some had trusted for a cloud that would sprinkle rain on their fields.

What other people say you cannot do, you try and find that you can.

Old deeds for old people, and new deeds for new.

~ Henry David Thoreau

Take care & Wishes all,

Minerva*

to hope, believe and live.

2006-03-15T15:47:00.000+08:00

Heya all,
Somehow it feels as if my posts get more and more drab by the day – Apologies, dear ones, but I guess I have to inform one and all, esp. my esteemed blog friends & Minervan Fellows that:
I may only be able to keep posting during this one-week break, before the second phase of my Practicum that will last until early May.

It’s been a rather exhilarating return these few days, I (gladly) confess ~ to get to know newer friends via this blogosphere – this strangely comforting *atria of friends communing over old interests close to our hearts, where we ask for nothing more, but the sweet company and warmth of kindred minds, even if it lasts just for that fleeting experience afforded by scribbled posts and genuinely felt responses.

As promised, I’ll try to write as much as is temporally allowed – and am afraid I can only continue at the end of the ensuing seven weeks. Throwing caution to the zephyr – just for the moment, an update now - but first on the agenda:

Here’s Wishing dearest Minervan Fellow & chummi, *Zombie…

A Joyous, Blessed & Memorable Birthday! Janam din mubarak ho!

May all your dreams come true, dear yaar.
And may you always be blessed with bliss, love, peace, good health & success in life.

With love always, Minerva*

* * *

*Final product of our labour ~ Read on..*

Took a lovely (and unplanned) trip Down Memory Lane on Monday..

- Was supposed to meet up with classmates from my English class for a pre-arranged baking-cum-gathering session. Since we’ve all been despatched on Practicum, we’d intended it to be for filling one another on how we’ve been coping etc.

Anyway, I ended up reaching the meeting place, the train station near my older varsity grounds (a nostalgic sigh here), an hour early – and decided to spend sometime back in my old campus bookstore, one of the best I’ve known. Quite a pity I couldn’t meet up with old friend *Az who’s completing her Honours year – but it was a lovely one hour of browsing through bestsellers before heading back.

But of course, the main musing point as
the bus passed the University Cultural Centre (where Urs truly had her Convocation ceremony, less than a year ago), now redecorated for the Open House, was how every student boarding/alighting the bus looked absorbed in their notes and such.

It led me to muse how – just less than a year ago, Urs truly too, spent so much of my waking hours absorbed in academic matters: in truth, how insular our worlds are.

From the sheltered lives as young schoolchildren (with parents and teachers [for most of us] guiding us with rigid rules and protecting us from the wider chaotic world beyond) to the beginning of a confused solitary journey of self-learning after college, where our (broadening) worlds of knowledge are still somewhat delineated by the fields we choose to specialise in (say, the hard sciences, the arts, medicine, law etc.) – it is interesting how so much of what we learn (for those who are willing to learn) is still very much insular or limited.

Which explains why, we all need to keep on learning I guess, to keep moving on, to keep on living – to learn more about ourselves, about those around us, of how what we first distinguished as stark differences (in culture, race, religion, language, gender, mindsets, etc.) are just avenues pointing towards perceiving how similar we all are – in our human hopes, fears - and dreams for tomorrows we can only imagine.

On a more personal level, from working on papers/books (and enjoying the experience for some of the memorable assignments/modules like travel literature, world languages, pharmacy), moving on to working with/for real-life people, with all their complex characters, opens up a whole new challenging space – often draining and yet (I remind myself) always with a subtle purpose residing deep within – it’s just that I need to keep persevering to find my place here and to keep learning.

Learning made sweet and memorable..

Am not much of a baker myself (yet), but learning to bake a blackforest cake under the warm tutelage of dear friend *Anna – with all eight of us rolling up or sleeves to plunge into the dough or chocolate or strawberries (substitute for the cherries), as was assigned to us, was a great, therapeutic and fun-filled experience - of preparing the batter, baking the layers, levelling the whipped cream and spreading the strawberries atop with collective, reverent silence. And of course, the sheer richness of the cake was just ~ Lovely.

*Product of our labour ~ Side view*

Dearer friends know Urs truly does not take chocolate (and coffee and ice-cream) – it’s not that I abhor them, no – I love to see my choco-loving friends (aflush with endorphins) relish their bars and chide me for being a non-choco lover and I still do love the aroma of well-brewed coffee.

It’s just a personal pact that I made to myself halfway through my older varsity years, when I found my addiction to coffee too dehydrating – just to test how well I could ‘resist’ and withhold such impulses – well, I’ve kept up this ‘lil pact rather well, besides the fact that I’m a self-confessed (home-made) chai lover, now, aha. But, of course, I make very rare exceptions, and this is one of them.

* * *

As with our sharing sessions, along with a much-cherished call and email from dearest Alice and my cousin sis who’s a lecturer (and mom of my two fave nieces), respectively – the main learning point seems to be, of how:

We all have out own challenges, of how as we stride through thorn-ridden paths with travails aplenty, we are armed primarily and importantly, with nothing but Courage – to hope, believe and live.

And of course, finding joy in the little things that enthuse our drained souls – the morning chai Ma makes just so it’ll start off my day on a happier note, the beautiful full moon from the window the past two nights, meeting and musing with dear blog-friends.. yeah, the little things that keep this Minervan soul alive.

Musical afterthoughts again:

*Guiding Star – by the Colonial Cousins, from Aatma: Lovely song that resonates so true, especially at this point in life.

*Kal Ho Naa Ho (Tomorrow May Never Be) – by Shankar Ehsaan Loy, for the movie of the same name. The soundtrack includes some vivacious numbers like Maahi Ve & Pretty Woman too -

but just for today, Kal Ho Naa Ho, it shall be.

Take care all, Minerva*

the beginning is always today

2006-03-11T21:17:00.000+08:00

* Updated with Afterthoughts *

Heya all,
it feels as if i've been away from mine haven here for eons

- but here I am.

Warmest hugs to dearest Minervan Friends who've dropped by & for new guests too -
In the past three weeks that Urs truly's been away - away from all the things I love - beloved songs, writing & musing on world/current affairs, old friends - back on a brief respite from a rather challenging, perpetually learning experience (a week break before the seven weeks or so til the end) - So there, am back to the home I love.

Realised I can actually get by on minimal sleep every day - hmm, I seem to be regaining the old workaholic drive all over again. In the midst of all the trials, a surprising blend of surprise, befuddlement, learning-on-the-job excitement, pains and little joys, I made some good friends (since we are all undergoing the ordeal together) too.

But perhaps the best part was when I actually dreamt of my fave niece Nithuz, from Down Under, - she's got a little baby sis now, btw - in the one hour plus sleep I'd managed to get before another long Friday.

And my lovely niece (to whom Urs truly hasn't chatted with, for weeks now) comes over (she looked pretty slender in my dream, hmm) with a wide grin and gives me a warm hug..

It's not that I give especial importance to dreams and read into them ~ it's just that Urs truly only dreams of people who are close to mine heart.. Made my day ~ the dearheart, she did.

Hope all of you've been doing fine too.
Do take care all & warmest Minervan wishes for your dreams to come true.

“The beginning is always today.”

~ Mary Wollstonecraft.

*Afterthoughts..

Just a 'lil space for some melodies I'd intended to share - Enjoy!

* Mahaganapatim, from Mahesh Dattani's Morning Raga ~ Amusing jazz-classical rendition of the hymn to Lord Ganesha, performed by Bombay Jeyashree.

* Nilavinile, from Manasellam ~ rendered by Harisaab & Sadhnaji: So full of gaiety & jollity, yay!

* Especial, personal selections for today: from the Colonial Cousins' The Way We Do It ~ Lady, Dekhoon Mai Jahan & No Longer Mine. Ineffably beautiful.

Especial hugs to dear Minervan Fellows as always,
Minerva*

In Us, or Nowhere.

2006-02-18T23:39:00.000+08:00

Heya all, just a quickie post here -
Training's over and will be having around nine weeks of Practicum - it's brought this oddly ineffable sense of anxiety-disinterestedness-ennui-excitement of late, and well, I fear I may not be able to post often from now on, thence this wrap-up of recent happenings.
Meanwhile, do take care all of you.

Let's see now -
Of movies I've watched/wanna watch:

Raincoat by Rituparno Ghosh:

Hmm, there are movies, books, musical works - in short, masterpieces, which are quite beyond critiques by humble viewers as Urs truly.

To me, Rituparno Ghosh's Raincoat remains a lovely re-interpretation of the classic, which inspired it. And what amused me most was how, at the end of the movie, what was left was only, the poignance evoked by the selfless deeds of both protagonists (Mannu & Neeru) to offer some form of relief to alleviate one another's pains if not for ever, then at least for the near future. Besides the fact that their unspoken sacrifices deal with entities they very much need (to solve their own challenges), it is beautiful how they choose not to break each other's facades of affluence and well-being, which each has constructed so as not to hurt the other with the real pain of suffering they face on their own terms.

Therefore, as all invaluable experiences deserve, do check it out for yourselves - and you'll know.

Well, the other movie (that i've yet to watch, but would like to) is Mahesh Dattani's Morning Raga. Have only heard the music thus far. Enjoyable jazz-classical works, I must say: do check it out here.

***

Next up, esp. to dear Minervan Fellows, i've just put up a new post, based on a recent reading for my Philosophy of Education module, on the notion of Bildung in early German romanticism. For that, here please: In Us, or Nowhere.

Oh yes, training has officially ended, and Practicum (with attachment and assessment, for around nine weeks) starts this Monday - which means less frequent blogging, too.

But we persevere.

Signing off with a lovely quote from my current read, Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird (1960, p.18):

By the adorable, intelligent and witty Scout Finch, of course - when she's ticked off by her school teacher (not to continue reading, the art she's picked up from reading from the lap of Atticus, her lawyer-father at bedtime):

Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.

Yep, that's about all for now, dear all.
And yes, before I go, an interesting e-version of the Johari Window, inspired by Auriond's link.

Take care all & Wishes always, Minerva*

Naina neer baha..

2006-02-12T01:26:00.000+08:00

Heya all, I know it's been awhile since I last posted here, around a fortnight or so. Hope all of U've been doing well.
Been busy of late, and this past week has had its share of interesting & enervating - and of course - amusing & heartwarming moments too.
But I have to give thanks to these special people & events that've brought cheer during exhausting times ~

*Since the end of our training is in line with the recent CNY festivities, my Lit class had a wonderful lo hei (also known as yu sheng) session. According to dear friends, this tradition of gathering round to mix and toss selected ingredients up high into the air with apt cheers and well wishes for all, was originally a local invention.

And oh, my first lo hei session (albeit, a veg. version) proved memorably enjoyable - it did taste good, except for the over-tangy ginger-y taste from the initial helpings.

And as good friend *Auriond keenly noted, noone really had the heart to leave the class although (or perhaps, expecially because) it was the last Lit lesson together. I guess it's got a lot to do with all of us bonding well as a class that went through all that slogging through late nights and heavy slews of insurmountable assignments & projects, in such an intensively-paced year of training.

Which also means, of course, that Urs truly's Practicum (where we'll be graded, before admission to the Service) is coming up pretty soon.

*And although the early week had been rather disparaging and for awhile Nietzschean thought seemed to enthuse Urs truly yet again - I know I've got great friends around me who ceaselessly strive to brighten life around them.

Like dear *Auriond, and my old great friend GYJ (it's my old affectionate name for her - she'd once aimed to be a gynae [G], back when we were lab-mates in sec. school) & of course, dear *Goddess who never fails to impress upon me how geographical distance doesn't limit the resilience of good friendship. Thanks Goddess for caring to drop by & spreading your warmth in your special ways.

*Additionally, another sweet surprise came via Acroyali - who left a warm note over at my bloglet (or blogling), my space for educational musings and such, that's been relatively idle for quite awhile now.. Thanks, Acroyali ~ Will try and put stuff up more regularly if I can, yes.

*In gratitude*

Ok, as I'd mentioned earlier, the later part of the week brought more excitement & sweet surprises, some of which i wanna share with dearest Minervan Fellows. Enjoy!

* * *

Chanced across Samuel Butler - do tell me what you think of these lines:

Life is like playing a violin solo in public and learning the instrument as one goes on.

Life is not an exact science, it is an art.

Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day.

~ Samuel Butler

* * *

And rediscovered dear chap, Lord Byron - Amazing lines:

But words are things, and a small drop of ink,

Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces

That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

Man is born passionate of body, but with an innate though secret tendency to the love of Good in his main-spring of Mind. But God help us all! It is at present a sad jar of atoms.

Life's enchanted cup sparkles near the brim.

~ Lord Byron

* * *

Also, came across A.R.Rahman's new & lovely compositions for Deepa Mehta's latest movie of her esteemed Fire - Earth (remember Harisaab's Dheemi Dheemi?) - and now, Water - trilogy.

Awesome renditions by all the singers - and yet Minerva finds herself most enthralled by dear Sadhnaji's soulful rendition of Naina Neer Baha.. ~ Somewhere, somehow a Ghazalite whiff in the passing breeze.

Take care all & Wishes, Minerva*

this unread letter..

2006-01-28T15:50:00.000+08:00

Heya all, hope all's fine for all of ya.
I tell myself that i gotta note this down -
not to proclaim or announce out these Gifts Urs truly's been blessed with - but just so, I'll always be able to humbly remember these treasured memories of the great souls i meet along this transient journey. I guess it's like a promise to myself - so i'll never lose these moments & the especial Friends responsible for bringing them my way, to the ravages of time into sad oblivion.

Almost as if testifying to my own musing at my prior post & dear *Goddess' ensuing comments, it's strange, this epiphany.
Of how, just as things get real exhausting & more and more, of late - pointless? - even, in the daily grind of life, there are constant reminders of blessings (for how else am I to comprehend them, these golden rays of warm hope & strength to go on) along my way:

Received dear old freundin (older blog-friends might remember her) Bettina's airmail last Tuesday, right after an exhausting day - with a lovely note too.
And as the ashen-grey clouds loomed ever nearer, juggling assignments which never quite seem to acknowledge all our efforts, and surviving on minimal rest with days only bringing more dampened spirits - just as my will's wavering, -
Late Thursday brought some nice surprises: Went for lunch outside the varsity grounds, with two good friends of mine, Auriond & SW, who true to their word, brightened up my day, with their contagious high-spirited banter..

And Minerva even ends up becoming an unwitting subject to dear *Auriond's sketching hand, when we returned. (Although I maintain that I do not fancy self-portraits [of myself], still it's a wondrous feeling to know that a dear friend can expend so much of her creative genius on a spontaneous sketch of oneself) - and I admit I do like the eyelashes, dear *Auriond.

To top it all off, Auriond passes me (just cos i'd mentioned that my reserved copy at the library isn't showing any signs of availability before the upcoming CNY break) her own set of Roald Dahl's Boy: Tales of Childhood as well as its sequel, Going Solo. So, there's my Chinese New Year reads - Woo hoo!

Having said that, here's wishing all my friends:

A Joyous, Prosperous & Wonderful Chinese New Year!

Xin Nian Kuai Le!

May all our dreams come true.

“The beginning is always today.”

– Mary Wollstonecraft.

***

Signing off with gd 'ol chum, Takurdaji,

Take care all & love, Minerva*

I woke and found his letter with the morning.
I do not know what it says, for I cannot read.
I shall leave the wise man alone with his books, I shall not trouble him,

for who knows if he can read what the letter says.
Let me hold it to my forehead and press it to my heart.

When the night grows still and stars come out one by one

I will spread it on my lap and stay silent.
The rustling leaves will read it aloud to me,

the rushing stream will chant it,

and the seven wise stars will sing it to me from the sky.

I cannot find what I seek, I cannot understand what I would learn;

but this unread letter has lightened my burdens

and turned my thoughts into songs.

~ Rabindranath Tagore, "Fruit Gathering."

Journey Home

The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long.
I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued

my voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track

on many a star and planet.

It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself,
and that training is the most intricate which leads

to the utter simplicity of a tune.

The traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own,
and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach

the innermost shrine at the end.

My eyes strayed far and wide before I shut them

and said `Here art thou!'
The question and the cry `Oh, where?' melt into tears

of a thousand streams and deluge the world

with the flood of the assurance `I am!'

~ Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali.

the In-between times..

2006-01-20T23:49:00.000+08:00

Heya all, it's been a while, isn't it - hope all of you (esp. dearest Minervan Fellows) are doing well. Thank you, dear Goddess, for being the sweet Friend you are - love your visits & notes, as always.
Been pretty busy of late, mostly handling material affairs (school/training/work) - with its fair share of frenetic & exhausting, as well as museworthy moments here and there.

New experiences, new people ~ like the gal I got to meet on the train home last Thursday - because of my bubbly companion, a friend of Thuz from back in the old varsity, who gaily allowed the two neighbouring gals to join in our conversation - and we'd all met simply because we'd been discussing the visibly palpable and increased security on the trains (reflecting back to the old first-aid days, i agree it's always better to be prepared but the presence of more security personnel can get quite unnerving, too). Anyway, when I introduce myself to her, she replies: Oh, we have the same name.
Found it pleasantly amusing (though I know my name's isn't that rare) and because I'm exhausted from surviving a heavy school day (with a Lit presentation that went fine) with about two hours of sleep - my companion's happily entertaining the two gals we've just met. Later in the night, this new acquaintance sends me an sms inquiring of my birthday - and it turns out hers was just the day before. Hmm, it does sound nice to meet your namesake for a birthday surprise, yea?

These few exhausting weeks of late (with intensive projects and presentations etc.), have also offered their little but valuable learning moments - of the much-appreciated gestures of (unanticipated) help and support from good friends (undergoing the same exhausting schedule), and Mom's unrivalled chai, my secret fuel - aha.

Perhaps, all of this sounds rather 'airy-fairy' - this business of appreciating the little special moments that lay hidden just between the cracks of our oh-so-busy lives -
but it does help put things - and life - in a more enlightened perspective. There now, for us all - some noteworthy snippets, which somehow encompass so much of what Minerva believes..

Value in life ~ Compassion, via suffering ~ Blessed, yes

& especially:

In-between times

*From the last DailyOm link above:

The in-between times are seldom about landmark moments... when you look at the good that exists in your life, many reasons for celebrating the in-between times may become clear: a cup of your favorite tea, a beautiful sunrise, a good book, and the smell of fresh air can be reasons for celebration.

Celebrating the in-between times can be as easy as paying special attention to them when they do happen, rather than taking them for granted ...

And also, since it's been a looong while since Minerva's got some time in solitude for beloved melodies (from Ab Ke Baras to Apni Zulfein, Piya Tora to Piya Basanti), some newer melodies here, now:
*Anbae Anbae & Varugiraai: Not vouching for the lyrics or the movie itself, but A. R. Rahman's (& Harisaab's) renditions are worth a mention - and
*Latest in the airwaves, and one of Minerva's fave musical duet-pair (remember, Dolnaa?) - Thadakku Thadakku, by Harisaab & Sujatha (go on, try and figure why it's winning Urs truly over).

With warmth & hope, Minerva*
p.s. To dearer chums, have finally embarked on something I've long intended - went for my first Hatha yoga class last Monday. It's a small start, but invigorating yes: Minerva's current fave asana's (but, of course) ~ the Virabhadrasana.

Apni zulfein mere shano..

2006-01-08T01:42:00.000+08:00

Heya all, this post's dedicated to a great friend of mine,

*Asmi - for being the sweet soul you are.

Had been rather anxious with first-day-of-new-classes jitters, on my way to school/training/work when out of the blue, she calls me just so I can catch a tune on the radio. And can you guess which it was..

Apni Zulfein ~ One of Minerva's most-loved faves by Hariji, of late.

How didya know, dearest yaar..

And but, you've reminded me how, even as one can feel befuddled in the swirling tempest of life, with kith and kin who may not be as virtuously genuine as we'd wish them be - there are such divine graces Gifted to humble human souls ~ Friends who call just to ask if one's doing fine, if everything's ok - and when your fave tune's playing on the radio.. Shukriya, dearest yaar.

With gratitude for this bond of Friendship I've been blessed with, Bestest wishes for the upcoming exams too, Asmi.

***

Sometimes, there are days when work summons yet, but the will doesn't budge. So, for a refreshing dose of Creation, an inspiration from Akira Yoshizawa's origami to liven up the day ~ Turned out rather bland, but still well-loved.

Take care all & Wishes, Minerva*

Koi bole Ram Ram Koi Khudai

2006-01-07T21:43:00.000+08:00

Hi all - hope all's well.
Days've rushed by since the New Year I know, but I also know I need to jot some priceless moments of late lest they slip away slowly but surely into sad oblivion. And also, of course, since Minerva's given her word to dearest *Zombie ~

This New Year started out rather special, yes.
Got to watch a Superb concert (how else could it be?) and a nice movie, but best for last -

Caught Ketan Mehta's The Rising - The Ballad of Mangal Pandey on New Year's day. Generally laudable Effort on the whole, for whatever critics may say, it's no easy feat to create a beautiful movie and there's no pleasing one and all, yes.

Still, 'cos I'd thought the movie was about the Indian Sepoy Mutiny itself, an oft-quoted milestone in the pages of the nation's independence from colonial rule, it was a tad disappointing to realize that the movie relates only certain (pivotal) events that sparked the revolution. Perhaps, it's the bane of premature over-hyping. Although, it was an interesting take on the Indian side of history, concerning the central idea of revolution, I do prefer The Legend of Bhagat Singh & its songs too, of course.

But, I haven't mentioned these songs yet.
At his best - as always - A. R. Rahman's music is beautiful.
And at this juncture, Minervan Wishes of A Joyous, Blessed & Memorable Birthday to the colossal Musical genius himself too.

Most of the songs here are memorable - but here are my personal views on the tunes that won me:

Loved the memorable track Mangal Mangal for its beautifully written message of blessings written in varying shades of generous goodwill, friendship & (yet) revolutionary zeal, interestingly encompassing the entire film narrative. The choice of Kavita Subramaniam's lovely voice for Mai Vari Vari was nice. Takey Takey was another lovely take, evoking the jolly atmosphere of a village-fair (or mela), bustling with life. So, now you know my two top faves of the movie -

Liked the esteemed A.R.Rahmanji's soulful rendition of faith in Al Maddath Maula. Honestly, more than the religious tones the song was set in, it was the beautiful atmosphere of solidarity - transcending so many arbitrary boundaries we still encircle outselves within, and based solely on the protective courage of friendship (regardless of however dire life can get) that I find intriguing. Perhaps, this essentially human fervour is what has always won my approval - as what whirling dervishes have represented to me. And perhaps, even closer to mine heart, what the soul-dowsing music, songs & stories of Krishna (via late rediscoveries with dear poets Tagore & Bharathi too) - have meant to this wandering student of life.

Ok, before I get lyrical - my favourite pick of the lot - Holi Re!
Boisterously lovely tune - and a memorable Radha-Krishna segment in verse too. Most poignantly, the melody remains, to me - a testimony of the sheer resilience of the human heart, of how even the most harshest of circumstances cannot wear down genuine courage (to change life for the better) - how amidst all the pallor and ashen-grey journeys, it's still possible to celebrate with loved ones, with colour, joy and hope for newer Dawns.

Of course, I've not forgotten the Concert. Lovely, lovely hours of soul-drenching renditions - with ever-enjoyable numbers, by who else, but dear Harisaab himself, of course.

Of his birthday concert in Chennai, where he obliged music-lovers with his well-loved favourites, interspersed with messages from well-wishers of the Tamil cinefield. Replete with his characteristic modulations (and excellent enunciation, might I add) include how the esteemed S.P.B. himself performed Roja Janeman with Hariji himself, modifying words of sorrow to joy for the occasion, and yes, Hariji's sweet rendition of his millenium Ghazal-gift Kaash..

And thus, with a concert that 'twas loved for every moment, every number, every melodious rendition - to which I'd gladly sung along to, of course - it was indeed a special New Year.
With love, Minerva*

what really matters

2005-12-28T01:39:00.000+08:00

Hi all ~ A Cheerier post now.
Passed to me, by Thuz, here's one more tale ~ Morphed from an old, old email (as earlier, religious references aside, I believe it still stands as a warm message of solace to all of us, helpful to remember in times when old fears or insecurities overshadow the little wonders & joys of life) ~ Enjoy the read!

***

The Wemmicks were small wooden people. Each of the wooden people was carved by a woodworker named Eli. His workshop sat on a hill overlooking their village.

Every Wemmick was different. Some had big noses, others had large eyes. Some were tall and others were short. Some wore hats, others wore coats. But all were made by the same carver and all lived in the village. And all day, every day, the Wemmicks did the same thing. They gave each other stickers.

Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of gray dot stickers. Up and down the streets all over the city, people could be seen sticking stars or dots on one another. The pretty ones, those with smooth wood and fine paint, always got stars. But if the wood was rough or the paint chipped, the Wemmicks gave dots.

The talented ones got stars too... Some could lift big sticks high above their heads or jump over tall boxes. Still others knew big words or could sing very pretty songs. Everyone gave them stars. Some Wemmicks had stars all over them! Every time they got a star it made them feel so good that they did something else and got another star. Others, though, could do little. They got dots.

* * *

Punchinello was one of these.

He tried to jump high like the others, but he always fell. And when he fell, the others would gather around and give him dots. Sometimes when he fell, it would scar his wood, so the people would give him more dots.

He would try to explain why he fell and say something silly, and the Wemmicks would give him more dots. After a while he had so many dots that he didn’t want to go outside. He was afraid he would do something dumb such as forget his hat or step in the water, and then people would give him another dot.

In fact, he had so many gray dots that some people would come up and give him one without reason. “He deserves lots of dots,” the wooden people would agree with one another. “He’s not a good wooden person.”

After a while Punchinello believed them. “I’m not a good Wemmick,” he would say. The few times he went outside, he hung around other Wemmicks who had a lot of dots. He felt better around them.

One day he met a Wemmick who was unlike any he’d ever met. She had no dots or stars. She was just wooden. Her name was Lulia.

It wasn’t that people didn’t try to give her stickers; it’s just that the stickers didn’t stick. Some admired Lulia for having no dots, so they would run up and give her a star. But it would fall off. Some would look down on her for not having any stars, so they would give her a dot. But it wouldn’t stay either.

‘That’s the way I want to be,’ thought Punchinello. ‘I don’t want anyone’s marks.’ So he asked the stickerless Wemmick how she did it. “It’s easy,” Lulia replied, “every day I go see Eli.”

“Eli?” “Yes, Eli. The woodcarver. I sit in the workshop with him.”

“Why?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself? Go up the hill. He’s there.” And with that the Wemmick with no marks turned and skipped away.

* * *

"But he won't want to see me!" Punchinello cried out. Lulia didn't hear. So Punchinello went home. He sat near a window and watched the wooden people as they scurried around giving each other stars and dots. "It's not right," he muttered to himself. And he resolved to go see Eli.

He walked up the narrow path to the top of the hill and stepped into the big shop. His wooden eyes widened at the size of everything. The stool was as tall as he was. He had to stretch on his tiptoes to see the top of the workbench. A hammer was as long as his arm. Punchinello swallowed hard. "I'm not staying here!" and he turned to leave.
Then he heard his name.

"Punchinello?" The voice was deep and strong. Punchinello stopped.

"Punchinello! How good to see you. Come and let me have a look at you."

Punchinello turned slowly and looked at the large bearded craftsman. "You know my name?" the little Wemmick asked.

"Of course I do. I made you."

Eli stooped down and picked him up and set him on the bench. "Hmm," the maker spoke thoughtfully as he inspected the gray circles. "Looks like you've been given some bad marks."

"I didn't mean to, Eli. I really tried hard."

"Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, child. I don't care what the other Wemmicks think."

"You don't?"

"No, and you shouldn't either. Who are they to give stars or dots? They're Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn't matter, Punchinello. All that matters is what I think. And I think you are pretty special."

Punchinello laughed. "Me, special? Why? I can't walk fast. I can't jump. My paint is peeling. Why do I matter to you?"

Eli looked at Punchinello, put his hands on those smal wooden shoulders, and spoke very slowly. "Because you're mine. That's why you matter to me."

* * *

Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this - much less his maker. He didn't know what to say.

"Every day I've been hoping you'd come," Eli explained.

"I came because I met someone who had no marks."

"I know. She told me about you."

"Why don't the stickers stay on her?"

"Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. The stickers only stick f you let them."

"What?"

"The stickers only stick if they matter to you. The more you trust my love, the less you care about the stickers."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"You will, but it will take time. You've got a lot of marks. For now, just come to see me every day and let me remind you how much I care."

Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on the ground.

"Remember," Eli said as the Wemmick walked out the door. "You are special because I made you. And I don't make mistakes."

Punchinello didn't stop, but in his heart he thought, 'I think he really means it.'

And when he did, a dot fell to the ground.

***

Advanced Warm & Hearty Wishes for Joy, Peace & Success

in the upcoming New Year!

May all our Dreams come true & May we all have the strength, courage & wisdom to brave through the new challenges of the oncoming years,

with genuine goodwill in our hearts and minds.

Do take care all & Bestest Minervan Wishes*

Om Bhur Bhuvassuvaha Tat Saviturvarenyam\ Bhargo Devasya Dheemahi Dhiyo Yonah Prachodayat

2005-12-27T23:44:00.000+08:00

Heya all - hope all's well. Lots (of musing too) have been happening these days, as friends would've noted by the growing intervals between posts..

Of recent events -

*Work concerns: As aforementioned, had been pretty troubled over a dilemma-of-sorts, regarding the probable directions (literally, perhaps - as good friend Az knoweth) my current profession could take etc., but finally decided on letting things be, just for the moment, and practicing taking things one at a time. (Thanks Az, for your mails - it's always a pleasant honour to find that our sentiments do converge along similar lines.)

*Recent reads: Of course, it helps that I've picked up a few good reads as well namely, Dr Richard Carlson's Don't Sweat The Small Stuff... And It's All Small Stuff (1997), as well as the fifth book (promised myself I could try out the Audio-book versions of the preceding books if this one proved enjoyable) of Alexander McCall Smith's series: The No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency - the lovable The Full Cupboard of Life.

*Recent happenings:
Met up with dearest friend (perhaps the oldest closest mate, with the exception of Thuz), Alice, for a nice catching-up-chat & lunch at the Airport (just for the thrill of it, though the venue's rather impressive & conveniently close, oh yes) on Christmas Eve - probably one of my most memorable one thus far. Besides the usual work at home (with the holidays coming to a close soon), Mom's just gone on a short trip to visit a recuperating sis-in-law.

The thing is: Less than a couple of hours since her departure, and I'd already started missing Mom. And the more I think of things, the more anxious (of how she is, if everything's ok etc., how I'm missing her..) I got.

Am surprised - how, though I've often felt confident of my personal capacity to feel detached for mortal/material (esp. familial) bonds - now, I'm getting all nostalgic how with any glance at any of Mom's household articles - I am reminded of Mom.

I guess, it's all got to do with how we grew up, together - Mom, Thuz & myself. How Thuz and I, in our early years, and perhaps still, grew up in a perpetual (domestic) environment of fear (I shan't go into details, but yes, the word roughly sums it up) - it's a world not many can fathom, not even our younger sis (who's six years younger and has had the privilege, shall we say, of a slightly-changed tide, even perhaps a slightly more progressive outlook, and the access to more freedom, intellectual, emotional, and otherwise). Over the years, one realizes (especially trained through years of pain/suffering) that we all have our anxieties, fears, insecurities, pains, challenges - in all the multifarious forms they can come in - but life still goes on. Even when there are memories that hurt as embedded thorns, of disappointments, hypocrisies and (certain deeds of) people, I know that it is through this arduous journey that one gets to witness the precious few who mean the most, who were there in the darkest hours of one's life, whose humanity is immeasurably priceless - beyond words, deeds and perhaps, even this life.

Apologies if all this sounds depressing but, I'd chosen to jot this down, just so I'll remember the day Mom first ventured to leave our side to go someplace she has to - I don't know if it sounds unbelievable, but for someone who created a beautiful world of childhood so we won't have to see suffering so soon, I'm really missing Mom. But I'm happy that she's happy. Take care, Ma.

***

So, this post won't be all-sad, here're more words worth musing, from DailyOM.

Inherent to our being born is that we are here to observe, learn, and grow. Accompanying this is a built-in guarantee that there will be mistakes and misadventures along the way. And while it is only natural that we may sometimes become overwhelmed, especially when the lessons keep coming, it is important to remember that learning to understand yourself and your world is an ongoing and active process where the journey is more important than the destination. Every lesson is intended so you can become more of who you are ...

... you may be surprised to discover how much you are always growing, and that every lesson learned always informs the next.

That being said, there is never any need to be hard on yourself or think that you should have it all figured out.

We always know as much as we're meant to know at that moment,

and growing into our fullness is a process that unfolds ...

Take care all & Wishes, Minerva*
Btw, since the title points to the soothing Gayatri Mantra: more links to the prayer.

Of hearty moments & A child's smiles

2005-12-19T22:51:00.000+08:00

Heya all - been busy of late. And there've been new (mainly work-related) anxieties brewing too, though I'll figure them out. Atop that, the days've been filled with inspiring and discouraging moments alike, but things are looking brighter for now - so a brief respite.

A warm story that'd come in the mail - there're multiple versions though. For all who need an extra-special hug of warmth & solace,

The Concert

Wishing to encourage her young son's progress on the piano, a mother took her boy to a Paderewski concert. After they were seated, the mother spotted an old friend in the audience and walked down the aisle to greet her. Seizing the opportunity to explore the wonders of the concert hall, the little boy rose and eventually explored his way through a door marked "NO Admittance."

When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing.

Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle,Twinkle Little Star."

At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear, "Don't quit." "Keep playing."

Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obligato.

Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience.

The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played. Only the classic, " Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

***

Perhaps that's the way it is with God. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful flowing music. However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful.

The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, "Don't quit." "Keep playing."

May you feel God's arms around you and know that God's hands are there, helping you turn your feeble attempts into true masterpieces.

Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than by the things you acquire. So touch someone by passing this little message along. May God bless you and be with you always.

And before memories take a backseat to current affairs & become mere wisps of the cherished warmth & sunshine they'd brought so unexpectedly, just to share - had a lovely chat with my fave niece, Nithuz, last Saturday evening.

This, after fervently wishing i'd just have to chat with her mom, my cousin sis, and get to escape from having to contend with the (conversational) 'wrath' of my niece. Remembering an earlier conversation between us sometime back, where I believe I'd left the young one rather displeased at my taste.. we'd got to the topic of horses somehow, and i'd valiantly asked her fave colour for a horse, offering my preferred choice of brown, white as per the images of horses i'd conjured in my mind thus far, and she replies rather vehemently 'No'.. only to declare eventually that her preferred colour (for a horse, btw) is - pink. Which is when i realise she's talking about toy horses, sigh.

So there, after that initial intimidating experience, my niece comes on the phone again - and we end up talking about lotsa stuff. Btw, yours truly's admittedly not particularly adept at baby-talk etc., which is perhaps why I prefer conversing with kids who can talk (rather than much younger ones). But my niece surprises me.

I start off shakily, with my name (which she repeats & asks her parents how is it that she's got so many aunts), what she's eaten (fries, chicken nuggets) and how's her school (she corrects me sweetly - it's creche).. What amuses me is how easily she uses relatively non-core (i.e. words we'd use in specialised contexts, and infrequently) as from her earlier chat with Thuz earlier (that she likes 'melodious songs': i'd thought Thuz'd heard her wrong).

All through the conversation, my niece amazes me, with her choice of words - and her tone, so casual, fearless and candid for someone so young. And especially how I felt, she was talking to me like it was a conversation between two good pals, peers in age - as candidly as (only) my dearest friends chat with me. Of course, my sis explains later that it's probably because they, as my niece's parents, are constantly using such words (and not really, baby-talk) when they talk to my niece. As she catches on to their expressions, they try and make sure she actually understands what she says, hmm.

More snippets from our chat:
We'd talked about one of her currently favourite topics - Harry Potter, and she asks me if I've watched the movie (I think her parents probably started & she'd just repeated the question-thread). Honestly (and consistently checking that my sentences aren't too complex for her to grasp - though she didn't seem to have much of a problem) I answer:

me: No.. No, I haven't watched the movie.
My niece: Why?
me: Er.. because I haven't watched the movie..
niece: Why?
me: [looking down at the Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince book with me - it's one of my present reads, at the moment, needed a cheerier read to complement Albert Camus. Also, Thuz'd wanted my personal views of the book, for a long time now.] Oh.. Because I have the book.. because I'm reading the book..
niece: I have the book, too..

And of course, i'm left floundering for awhile - she's in the 'Why?' phase now, my sis explains - and i begin to seriously reconsider feeling readily supportive of her inquisitive (and resilient) mode of questioning. As we continue on what she likes most about Harry Potter, she playfully replies 'Harry Potter.. ('the movie is sc-aaa-ry' but still), the 'magic', the 'kids' (emphasized as k-eeed-z)..

There are nice moments too, of course. When I ask her about the songs she likes most..
The first time she replies confidently: I like Kannum Kannum (which she's sung to me, before) but when I ask her to sing for me, and again with a let's sing together, shall we.. 1 2 3.. there's only silence followed by what I'd thought sounded like muffled giggling (but my niece? giggling?) So, I interpret her seeming silence as displeasure, steeling myself for another disapproving black/brown horses-are-not-nice-sounding answers - but I'm wrong.

It happens again, later in our chat - she happily sings me the first two lines of another fave Tamil song of hers ~ Chellame Chellam, twice - ending in what I could only fathom as giggling.. Oh yes, btw, my niece - she's two, turning three next January. How's that for a two-year-old, eh?

Well, of course, it felt great to be able to share a laugh & hearty moments with a much younger kid, and to know that our 'lil chat could actually leave my niece giggling at the corner of her sofa (her mom tells me of how my niece was enjoying our chat later. I'm amused, i'd thought that's possible only betwixt dearest friends we've known for a long time, grown up & shared much of our lives together etc.) So with a humble pat-on-the-back, Thanks dearest, for bringing such golden sunshine and smiles when ashen-grey skies threaten in the horizons.

Take care all & have a good, memorable & safe week ahead. Wishes, Minerva*

Of love & what it takes

2005-12-09T22:49:00.000+08:00

Heya all. Well, for those special Minervan Fellows who'd sensed - yes, there's been a dearth of interest (to write, question, think, live?) an absence here of late. Hope you've all been doing well, meanwhile.

Been away mainly due to work assignments - an extracurricular module shall we say, where we are required to conduct programmes for chosen, external organisations. Meant to provide experiences of learning in service, it so happens that both Thuz and myself (although we are taking the same postgraduate course, we're in different working groups, but still) are involved in our respective 'Activities' sub-group, and also that both organisations our different groups've chosen to help can be categorised as Homes that support a particular marginalised group, isolated from their communities.

It was indeed a good eye-opener, leaving me musing over possible things that I've taken for granted in a seemingly 'conventional' life still situated within mainstream society. Since my main (group) duties were accomplished early last week, been listening to the instrumental, theme music of Kisna (selected by Thuz for her indian dance item for her group's big day) as Thuz and friends swirl away, practising their dance - and Urs truly gets to offer her humble suggestions too.

***

Okay, since 'tis the Season to share some good reads..

- just came up with that, you could jump in the bandwagon, if you've got a recent review to share too, ya -

here's a link to *Zombie's review on Mitch Albom's The Five People You Meet in Heaven (and here's mine, on the same book, sometime back).

Interestingly, both her review and my old post brought back nice memories.. Thanks, dear *Zombie.

***

So now, on to the current state of affairs -

Besides that - have just sat through and finished Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni's Sister of My Heart. A wondrous read, on the whole.

well, here's how my copy of the book looks like..

I've always loved reading aloud extracts (from whatever I've read thus far) of my current reads to Thuz, who's a great audience, btw, for Minerva does take pride in sharing with friends of how, Thuz (who's mostly steeped in the hard sciences, esp. math) can remember the plots, characters, fave lines of and understand my own references to personal favourite, literary reads as well. And I love observing her reactions to the passage I'd enjoyed musing over, as well.

Which was how, when I'd just started Divakaruni's SOMH, reading Thuz snippets that just introduced my initial favourite of the two main protagonists ~ Thuz replies at the end: "That sounds just like you" - and of course, i'm amused.

I guess, it's the more well-rounded characters that've always appealed most to me, thence the easy choice of vivacious (esp. amongst those she loves) and critical Anju & the mostly calm, patient and pacifist Sudha (and perhaps, my favoured of their mothers - Gouri Ma, in some parts, also) as the characters with whom i could identify easily with. The carefree gaiety of childhood - of fascinating tales at bedtime, of shared secrets, cranky thoughts and off-the-spur ideas only kids could think of, of shared dreams - free of adult worries, responsibilities and problems ~ Divakaruni's first part of the novel leaves me bemused with the vibrantly colourful childhood world of Anju & Sudha, i.e. before the two memorable characters are married off, to their respective faraway thresholds.

Divakaruni is an admirably deft storyteller, for her tapestry of SOMH weaves the life-identities of the consistently developing, well-rounded characters of Anju & Sudha, and what fascinates me most is how close the novel parallels life as we know it, the little joys, travails, forbidden paths, tears, epiphanies, lessons - it's called verisimilitude in literature, something I'd learned recently. But by this very reason, this scary closeness to life that their story evokes, I believe I'll remember SOMH as a riveting read, yet at the same time, as a beautiful tale so worryingly close to real life ~ with all the attendant sorrows, expectations of prescribed roles, duties and responsibilities to assume etc.

***

Excerpts (close to mine heart, too):

"When it's time to leave we hold each other for a long time. Marriage has complicated our lives, divided our loyalties, set us on our different wifely orbits. Revealed things we must keep from each other.

Never again could we live together the way we did in our girlhood...

But no matter how far we travel from each other, our hearts will always be inseparable." - Anju, p.196

"And this is what I discover: my feelings towards Anju have not changed. If anything, they are purer, more intense because they are no longer dictated by necessity. I love her because I love her" - Sudha, p.339.

A nice review of SOMH, from A Gathering of the Tribes.

***

So now, along with Albert Camus' The Myth of Sisyphus, am rediscovering melodies ~

*From Kisna: Found that Chilman Uthegi Nahin's such a lovely tune - but is that a cry of revolution I hear, amidst the gaiety of anklets and song? - & don't you think Aham Brahmasmi, would be apt for a nicely-choreographed (indian) fusion dance, na?

*Having stumbled across Harisaab's Bombay Bagiyan (from Supari - let's say, am bemused by the candid camaraderie & bourgeoisie dreams amongst the intoxicated buddies), what actually helped conquer the blues would be Roja Janeman (from Roja) ~ by Hariji! I know this sounds outlandish, but despite an old blog-friend's recommendation of the song, i've just realized that the song has a version by the esteemed Alaapiya, too ~ Yay!

*Before I go, for all those who need a beautiful melody to chase away the blues ~ do check out Hariji's Nila Kaikirathu (from Indira). Lovely, lovely rendition - you'll see.

With warmest wishes, Minerva*

there's more to life

2005-12-03T21:59:00.000+08:00

Hiya all. Lots to post on recent happenings, work assignments (which'd explain my absence of late) & musings..
But, for now: Extracts from a recent inspirational read ~ Richard Bach's Jonathan Livingston Seagull [With photographs by Russell Munson. 2003. Element. Harper Collins Publishers Ltd: London], which I'd picked up after dear *Asmi's mention of it in a recent conversation.

***

"We went from one world into another that was almost exactly like it, forgetting right away where we had come from, not caring where we were headed, living for the moment. Do you have any idea how many lives we must have gone through before we even got the first idea that

there is more to life than eating, or fighting, or power in the Flock?

A thousand lives, Jon, ten thousand! And then another hundred lives until we began to learn that there is such a thing as perfection, and another hundred again to get the idea that our purpose for living is to find that perfection and show it forth.

The same rule holds for us now, of course: we choose our next world through what we learn in this one. Learn nothing, and the next world is the same as this one, all the same limitations and lead weights to overcome."

Of course, there are so many possible points of departure one could glean from this extract, but my favoured ones include -
*the essential need to acknowledge that our life's much more than mundane routines prescribed by hardened habits or established conventions of old (which need to be consciously re-assessed for validity to our current experiences, I believe.),
*the choice to be the best that each of us can be (and in our own unique ways, to seek what perfection we can), & of course,
*of eternal Learning to strive for progress & growth, as long as we have the will to think, strive and live.

Wishes & Take care all, Minerva*

kitni baatein..

2005-11-26T22:35:00.000+08:00

Heya all - hope all of you are hale and healthy. Just to share a (lengthy, but) nice read that came in the mail:

***

As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners... he is a joy to be around.."

His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."

His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to."

After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets.."

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer.... The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.

The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference." Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

***

The mail ends with a reference to 'Teddy Stoddard' ~ but a caveat here, the story - inspirational though it is - is fictional, with only a hint of Dr. Stoddard's plausible identity.

Just finished Richard Bach's inspirational fable, Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Noteworthy read, and highly recommended.

But for now, only this:

Kitni Baatein

Kitni baatein yaad aati hai

Tasveerein si ban jaati hain

Main kaise inhein bhooloon

Dil ko kya samjhaaun

Kitni baatein kehne ki hai

Honton par jo sehmi si hai

Ik roz inhein sun lo

Kyun aise gum-sum ho ...

Latest melody on Minerva's mind ~ Kitni baatein, by Harisaab & Sadhna Sargam, from Lakshya. Take care all, Minerva*

Happy Universal Children's Day

2005-11-20T13:16:00.000+08:00

Happy Universal Children's Day!

Today, November 20th, is Universal Children's Day.

So, to all of the young, sparkling gems of this world's future:

Here's to more happiness, good health, love,

progress - in terms of opportunities & access to education

& human needs,

to peace, & wishes of success for all (y)our Dreams to be achieved.

A few more links, with especial reference to the "Children of the Looms," their plight & prospects:

* Of the past & present: Acknowledging & 'rescuing' these child carpet weavers

* Change ~ A possible future?

Keep musing all & stay special,
Minerva* (With Takurdaji's "On the Seashore," The Crescent Moon)

On the Seashore

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.

The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous.

On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.

They build their houses with sand, and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep,

children have their play on the seashore of worlds.

They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.

Pearl-fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships,

while children gather pebbles and scatter them again.

They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.

The sea surges up with laughter, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach.

Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children,

and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach.

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships are wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play.

On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.

~ Rabindranath Tagore

is it too much to ask of this world?

2005-11-19T14:12:00.000+08:00

Hiya all, as mentioned in a prior post, been on a self-imposed (but pleasant, yes) regime of successive reads. So after Coelho's The Alchemist,
I'd moved on to F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, of the comedy of manners genre, a satire that starts off engagingly witty but ends so sadly. A great read, btw and definitely recommended.

And, just to up the spirits, thought i'd go for some cheerier read. So there, am reading (Bengali, yay!) Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni's novel, Sister of My Heart now.
Well, for one who's lived as a twin for a tad over two decades of her life now (ahem), it is kinda easy to identify with the intimate bonding Chitra Divakaruni paints and i've already grown to love the feisty-half of the pair, Anjali or Anju, as she's fondly called - and nice name too, hmm..

Ok, a bit more on Chitra Divakaruni, now.
*Recommended by good friend Kumari back in my old varsity (been a year since her mention, methinks) after one of her papers for a Feminist Theory & Discourse module we'd taken together.

*Of her famed novel
*Of the lady herself & major themes espoused
*Of her intesting articles, at Salon.com

But what I'd found most intriguing and beautifully engaging was ~ her Essay on

What Women Share.

***

Absorbing read, which on its own, reminded me of writings I'd come across recently - by Audre Lorde.

It's interesting to note how, Audre Lorde's views, while speaking out for dissolving boundaries as much as Chitra Divakaruni herself - on different terms of course, with the former questioning concerns of inequality including sexism, ageism, prejudice based on class and race etc., and the latter's works delving more into the (indian american) immigrant experiences -
strongly contrast with Divakaruni's, as to how even within a given oppressed group, say a group of women, there exist various differences that need to be addressed. Engaging read, again.

Though, if I may so add, it is up to us to apply her courageous outlook in addressing concerns beyond gender differences, to the multitude of other limitations we're entrapped by, in our own circumstances, too.

Some engaging quotes, from Audre Lorde's Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches [The Crossing Press/Freedom, CA. 1984], here:

"For women, then, poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change... Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives"
~ "Poetry Is Not a Luxury," p. 37.

"Because the machine will try to grind you into dust anyway, whether or not we speak. We can sit in our corners mute forever while ... our selves are wasted, while our children are distorted and destroyed, while our earth is poisoned; we can sit in our safe corners mute as bottles, and we will still be no less afraid."
~ "The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action," p. 42.

***

Ok, that's all for serious thought now -
Take care all & Wishes for a good weekend, Minerva*
p.s. Hadn't known how beautiful a melody Dheere Jalna (II) by Sonu Nigam & Shreya Ghosal is ~ it's gotta be the sarangi & flute, na? From Paheli, besides Khaali Hai Tere Bina, of course.

as a little starlet ashimmer in the twilight..

2005-11-19T13:12:00.000+08:00

Hola all, after much thought and time, got my nose-pierced last Thursday. Have always wanted a little nose-stud (more 'cos it's something i relate to as 'indian,' rather than as any fashion statement: dear friends know Minerva doesn't buy into cyclical & oh-so-cosmetic fads this world's so easily overwhelmed by)
~ just as a little starlet, gleaming into the darkening evening skies..

***

Of course, like a good gal of this century (if so, i might call myself),
- atop Ma's confirmations that it's not too painful (she got her nose-pierced when she was twenty-one, by my late grandma, who besides being well-versed in quite a few (indian) languages and malay, traditional indian medicinal herbs, was also knowledgeable in more orthodox matters of nose-piercings and such..) on one hand, and *Shabnam's horrifying tales of how they use a 'hot rod' fo nose-piercings in the indian shops on the other -
i did a bit of e-research, and came across some nice stuff, here:

*On nose ornaments - and guess who I meet, yet again..
*Jayasri Burman, wrt typically indian motifs in her paintings - & of bengali charm, too..

***

At the shop:

It all turned out well, I must say.
I'd wanted a 'small' stone, and the Uncle (i.e. the indian shopowner, who's a Chettiar - the people who are traditionally associated with the (indian) jewellery trade - Ma informs me later) has chosen me a slightly larger one, reasoning the choice (& euphemising, i observe): "since my nose is rather 'spacious'.." (laughingly, I thank him in my heart, for his politeness). Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy's tracks from Kal Ho Naa Ho are appreciatably playing in the background.

Over the years, I guess, there are moments in life, where one just has to get-in-with-your-heart-and-go-for-it ~ let the moment take its course and pass ~ and when it's all over, sit back and muse/reflect on it, and I realized that well, here's another.

Ma says i'm nervous, to which the uncle replies that it's only these people who say they 'don't want' out of fear/anxiety, who remain the bravest and come through it just fine - and I thought that was nice of him to say that, then.
Almost everything else that he says after that, whizzes past my head - i'm not paying attention to his words anymore.

He patiently marks out the spot. Applies 'spirit' (alcohol - perhaps, propanol for its antiseptic qualities, not sure which), then attaches the tiny (but sharp) needle to the nose-stud and pierces the hole through. The piercing itself is what takes quite awhile - I know I winced sharply in pain (and my right eye, promptly, starts to tear), and shortly, he stops piercing.
I'd imagined: 'Oh no, it's probably stuck halfway, and he's about to try again, harder now - but all he does is screw in the (well) screw-part of the nose-stud pair (stud + screw).
I think: Oh, it's done? That's it?
He smiles and hands me a little swab of gauze/tissue - to wipe the single track of tears on my right cheek.

So there (from *ahem* experience) - it was all over in a jiffy.
I guess from someone who's been wearing (the normal indian) ear-stud since childhood days, the pain could be described as much less than that induced by a stubborn ear-stud.

And now, Minerva (with a healing nose) has a little, sparkling, stud - like the modestly winking playmate of the bright moon - the little shimmering starlet gleaming in the dark night skies.
Take care, all of you,
Minerva*
p.s. Was choosing between the possibilities of a Nose-stud vs Nose-ring, and decided on the (relatively) conservative former, since of course, the latter would imaginably raise brows of controversy-arbiters in the profession, aha.
*And since, a healing nose reminds me now of Gogol, a link to his amusing satire
~ "The Overcoat." Take care all.

on the Alchemist

2005-11-18T21:45:00.000+08:00

Hiya all, been on a mild roller-coaster-track of emotions of late:
enthusiasm (with unshackled fetters from an intensive semester and the prospect of a brief holiday), restedness ('tis the healing season), excitedness & enthralment (from the self-subscribed regime of successive reading), nervousness (from work-related news of late) etc.

So, at least, to keep moving on ~ this post, on my musings on Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist.

Picking it up again after a long while, i guess i'd started out biased (since i know friends on both camps wrt the fable: those who favour & those who don't), and kept feeling simultaneously skeptical and vaguely interested in the slow beginnings. So there were some issues (there still are) I could agree with, and some not.

And then I thought I caught seeming contradictions too, (but yes, I remember: we read into the Word/World what we want to read.. something I'd learnt long ago, through travel literature, and affirmed) [and yet again, contradicted!] in Coelho's book.

Perhaps, it was the contexts, admittedly foreign to my experiences, and schemas i could not access that made the beginning slow and difficult.
And then again, I kept reminding myself this was a book purportedly founded on 'symbolism,' which meant it had to be written in words simple enough to be understood by many - and then everything started looking too simple, with the plot (with not much of action to drive the narrative along), and sparse characters along the way.

But still, there are certain well-worded paras. - quoteworthy and (relatively) universally applicable, something I found admirably appreciatable.

And for me, it was only towards the closure (which i'd been expecting to be rather flat, cos of reviews), where things seemed to pick up again, with consistently mentioned details making more sense in pointing to the direction the narrative was taking.

*So, in all, my take on Coelho's The Alchemist: Amusing, and worth some thought too, provided one's willing to be patient with the text.

with *personal note: was probably slow to grasp this, but only realised that 'The Alchemist' was not the guy sought by the boy-narrator (who is surprisingly mature, for his age! - but he’s supposed to lead us through this expressedly symbolic text, anyway), but the young protagonist himself. Interesting.

***

Some lines i found, worth musing, here:

The boy went back to contemplating the silence of the desert, and the sand raised by the animals. "Everyone has his or her own way of learning things," he said to himself. "His way isn't the same as mine, nor mine as his. But we're both in search of our destinies, and I respect him for that." [Coelho 1999: 87-8]

"Because I don't live in either my past or my future. I'm interested only in the present. If you can concentrate always on the present, you'll be a happy man. You'll see that there is life in the desert, that there are stars in the heavens, ... Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we're living right now." [Coelho 1999: 88-9]

***

With more (beyond book reviews) later - Take care all of you & Wishes always,
Minerva*

go on, take a guess.

2005-11-10T15:12:00.000+08:00

Birthdays are never meant for the child concerned, actually.
I mean, for those who want to make it a point to mark the day, for those of us who can afford the luxury of celebration, to make a loved one feel special, for musing at memories of old, as the years roll on by –

birthdays aren’t meant for the individual herself or himself.
With the prospect of sounding precariously sentimental, here’s to share my humble thoughts on this –

On one hand, from what I’ve learnt over the years, it’s not wise to categorise people into our preconceived stereotypes, whether they be idealized place-on-pedestals-and-worship-them-notions or denigrate-them-to-dehumanised-margins, driven by our coloured worldviews often so narrow, insensitive and sadly, injurious to the soul whose pains we can hardly imagine.

Don’t get me wrong – I deeply believe that we need to appreciate the valued persons we have around us (when they still are around, and with genuinely-meant gestures, not for hidden agendas). But thereagain, it isn’t fair really, in our desperately human urge to reduce every quark of the universe to categories just so we could comprehend it, to conflate people into dichotomies founded on individual vested interests.

Having said that, Minerva still holds that birthdays should be celebrated as a Tribute to the One, who goes through so much pains (literally, the emotional, physical and all) just to bring a child to this living, breathing, complex glass-world of joys, sorrows, and wonders alike – to our mothers.

Warmest hugs of love, gratitude and awe to Ma, to every mother who carves worlds anew for their children (however far age or life distances them), looking out only, for better tomorrows for the world’s young.

Thank you, Ma.

For Ma, Arariraro (for Lullaby) ~

from ‘Raam,’ lovely song by veteran singer K.J.Yesudas.

(Courtesy of TMZweb.com. Or try, Tamilsongs.net)

Mom loves this song, as much as Minerva, but it brings tears to Ma..

Since not many get to do this (this feels strange, still)..

Happy Birthday, Thuz!

Yes, as always, there’s a reason to this Minervan post as well,
so go ahead, and take a guess.
Take care all, hugs & love, Minerva*

p.s. decided to put some Cheery music back here: Mazhaiye Mazhaiye ~ Same beloved song: Soul-Dowsing, Nectarine Ode to Rain. Because Minerva’s mirror-half (more hints) loves it too.

ramta jogi

2005-11-10T01:19:00.000+08:00

Hiya all, hope U've all been fine - esp. dearest friends of the Minervan Fellowship.
Lots more to share but am just, tired. Will update soon.

Meanwhile, a Beloved melody of late:

mathura nagarpati kaahe tum gokul jao..

~ have grown to love Shubaji's voice (as in her enchanting Piya Tora, of course) more lately & before I take my leave, one more Tagorian gem. Take care all, Minerva*

I am restless

I am restless. I am athirst for far-away things.
My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance.
O Great Beyond, O the keen call of thy flute!
I forget, I ever forget, that I have no wings to fly, that I am bound in this spot evermore.

I am eager and wakeful, I am a stranger in a strange land.
Thy breath comes to me whispering an impossible hope.
Thy tongue is known to my heart as its very own.
O Far-to-seek, O the keen call of thy flute!
I forget, I ever forget, that I know not the way, that I have not the winged horse.

I am listless, I am a wanderer in my heart.
In the sunny haze of the languid hours, what vast vision of thine takes shape in the blue of the sky!
O Farthest end, O the keen call of thy flute!
I forget, I ever forget, that the gates are shut everywhere in the house where I dwell alone!

2005-11-09T23:21:00.000+08:00

Hark ye, dear Minervan Fellows & Guests:

Minerva brings sweet news of victory.

Image courtesy of Kisna, the movie

(with a beautiful theme so dear to mine heart)

Of darkness vanquished,

of draining Warstrides, traversing strange lands of perfunctory mundanities

- and conquering them.

Of rediscovered strategems of craft,

of just striding on - against the blinding storms,

and great Fellows battling alongside..

but with heavy losses too, of course:

Minerva's most loyal companion of these darkest times -

my Chief General (who's as old as my old varsity days),

dearest Mukti, has fallen

and Minerva herself came through a bad bout of fever in the final days.

Amusing, how the very work that drains one to the nerves

(and you realise that little needs like food and sleep aren't as essential to the human condition, as they are made out to be..)

can power one to the finish.

But, it's over now.

Time to heal my fallen warriors, and for a brief while yet, a respite.

Take care all, Minerva*

whoever shall command the skylark not to sing?

2005-10-29T00:18:00.000+08:00

~ Updated

Minerva's Heartfelt prayers of Solace, Safety, Security,

Warmth & Peace to Every soul affected in the latest Delhi blasts.

Though every news update brings more horror and pain, this is the time

when Courage has to be summoned to Cope and move on.

Let this pass, please.

With Deepest Wishes of Courage, Minerva.

-----

You can muffle the drum, and you can loosen the strings of the lyre,

but who shall command the skylark not to sing?

~ Kahlil Gibran

Caught up with old dost, dear Guru *Asmi, after a looong while

- brought back so many of the good 'ol memories of college which, as Asmi knows, includes fond moments of Urs truly, muddling through (let's euphemise it as learning, ya..) hindi lyrics of beloved melodies..

Thanks, dearest *Asmi for that heartwarming chat.

***

image courtesy of sholay.com

Here's Wishing everyone

A Joyous, Memorable & Wonderful Deepavali/ Diwali!

and to all Malay - Muslim friends:

A Beautiful, Peaceful & Prosperous Hari Raya Aidil Fitri.

May this Special Day usher forth many more golden moments in life &

May Life on this earth be blessed with peace, love, bliss, goodwill

& humanity.

***

Note: Might prob. not be able to drop by as often, soon - this Deepavali comes in the midst of yet another deluge (those who've been here lately, will know), thence this humble Minervan message:

Thanks dear all, esp. *Zombie & Goddess, for your lovely and warm solace during dark times of late..

Take care all of you, and Wishes always, Minerva*

p.s. been listening to more endearing melodies of late, more on that later, but for Now: Shubha Mudgal & Hariji. Wishes all, Minerva.

*Updates...
Mom & Minerva had a great time making laddus - as Ma says, the food of the Gods - earlier today. Used to be a childhood fave once - such great syrupy sweetness, rolled into every laddu so golden.. Told Ma it helped dissipate some of the anxieties/ draining fatigue of late. Take care all.

Yaad to aati hogi na..

2005-10-25T23:44:00.000+08:00

Just to let dear friends know, am ok. alive.
Though harsh battles remain to be fought - at least for a fortnight more - the skies are clearing up now, and the sun's golden rays are warming the battlegrounds, the skylarks singing to herald every dawn..
Hope all of you are doing fine, especially Friends who've been m.i.a. on Ur blogs lately..

Before I leave, A Quote from Minerva, for You.

I prefer to be a dreamer among the humblest, with visions to be realized, than lord among those without dreams and desires.

~ Kahlil Gibran

And an e-article:

Doorways inevitably open for you to step through, and every choice you make can be a creative act toward realizing your goals and dreams ...

Take care, all of you & Wishes always,

Minerva*

gems or raindrops

2005-10-13T22:58:00.000+08:00

Hiya all - Know it's been awhile, but just to let dear blog-Friends of the Fellowship know Urs truly's ok..
Just that, for the first time after weeks (or mindlessly passing months), Urs truly finally got to listen to the music i love, and need i tell you more..

melodies that speak the language of the heart

there are melodies that bloom & fade with time

- as do the brushstrokes of dawn and dusk across our golden horizons.

And there are those which stay on awhile,

having entered the sacred thresholds of our humble little lives

- as the crystalline dewdrops shimmering in emerald fields.

but there are Melodies

that drown all of one's fears and anxieties,

and envelop one in a genuine embrace of companionship.

that bring tears for reasons one cannot fathom

and joys as nectarine as the ambrosia of the gods

that speak the language

only comprehensible

within the deeper chambers of the heart.

***

*Dedicated to dear Hariji's Piya Tora Kaisa Abhiman:
the soul-enthralling melody i'd heard last evening (after such a long time),
but You prove me wrong, dear luvly Tune ~ for bringing so much joy even in the darkest of times..

Take care, dear all & Wishes always,
Minerva*
p.s. Latest melody on my mind: Harisaab's Mazhaiye Mazhaiye, from "June R."
~ It's an Ode to Rain, as you might have guessed - of Beautifully crafted lines & an equally soul-dowsing rendition (as the nectarine 2nd verse). Sheer Poetry.

h.i.a.t.u.s.

2005-10-08T13:43:00.000+08:00

I guess most of my dear ol' blog-friends of the Fellowship, have probably sensed this by now - but am afraid, i'll have to take a (painful) hiatus from my place here for awhile - perhaps, for around a month from now..

Been terribly fatigued by tasks & duties of late. As i've mentioned in earlier posts, (for someone who used to feel powered by work) sometimes, just the sheer perfunctory nature of obligatory tasks can be so draining to the soul that exults in the flights of Learning & magical journeys of wisdom..

but despite my renewed efforts at rediscovering the old zest -
this mindless chasing of a goal that gets ever-so-easily-obscured by fogs of frenetically paced lifestyles (that so many of us just nod our heads to, and feebly walk on, enslaved) is just so soul-draining that Urs truly has stopped doing the things I love - like writing, listening to beautiful music, dropping by the enchanted blog-thresholds of endeared old blog-friends.

***

A poet is a bird of unearthly excellence, who escapes from his celestial realm arrives in this world warbling. If we do not cherish him, he spreads his wings and flies back into his homeland.

– Kahlil Gibran

***

But despite all the fatigue,
Minerva cannot afford to lay down her armour, shield and sword -
No respite, even from dusk to dawnbreak,
for times and tidings of a fresh onslaught are foreseen
and I may not have seconds now

to breathe a whiff from the passing zephyr,
to hearken & reminisce the note of the koel that stops to sing me a tune of courage,
to stand in awe at dear Mitr, the Sun
whose golden rays of warmth and Hope seem my only Solace for now.

Take care, all you dear ones & weary (but Warm, nevertheless) Wishes, Minerva*
p.s. Did try to catch a tune or two last night ~ and Urs truly owes it to latest inspirational, blog-posts of dearest *Goddess & *Zombie & this beautifully soothing balm of an old fave: Naalai Kaalai by Harisaab, for the inspiration of Hope you bring.

For You, dear *Poet-Soul

2005-10-02T20:07:00.000+08:00

* This is a heartfelt, Minervan Tribute to *
A Great Soul of human humility,

One of my very-First & Especial Blog-Friend,

And a Dearest Poet-Friend

*Gama, this is for You*

To Gama, with Love

Gama, I'd only imagined this for myself..

but here, for a dearest Friend, from a Fave Poet of mine.

Take care, dearest Poet-Friend & stay Brave.

***

Farewell

I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers!

I bow to you all and take my departure.

Here I give back the keys of my door

- and I give up all claims to my house.

I only ask for last kind words from you.

We were neighbours for long, but I received more than I could give.

Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out.

A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.

~ Rabindranath Tagore

dheemi dheemi..

2005-09-30T22:41:00.000+08:00

Following from the earlier post, not as sombre now. And, of course, a Tribute to all you special ones who made all the difference..

*my good (old Valedictorian) friend (remember?), who actually wrote me a beautifully insightful 2 page-letter on her personal responses to my prior musings on suffering and such. Thanks, dear friend. (And for the chocos too, of course. But dude, i don't take choc..)

*dear shabnam, with whom Urs truly finally managed to get some time together. With your Piyu Bole running through my head, as i was waiting for you to return (which prob. explains why i didn't get angry, aha..)

*And isn't it Beautiful when you least expect it -
you are blessed with a pure, silvern moonbeam across your path, like the twin-wonders of late..

* Getting to read Amartya Sen's article on dearest Tagore (a tad coincidental, since i'd just browsed through the chapter of the former's latest The Argumentative Indian: Writings on Indian History, Culture and Identity that afternoon..).

* So, here's The Article *

* Been re-discovering oldies i.e. like Stevie Wonder (who sounds so much like S.P.B. in the evergreen '80s, Oh wow), the esteemed Kishore Kumar & the evening saw Urs truly singing Kabhi Kabhi - and Mom picking it up (she's better with the older hindi classics).. &

*Specially, an old fave of the masses by who else (from 1947 Earth...)

*Dheemi Dheemi*

Mmm.. Perfectly nectarine way to herald Urs Truly's fave part of the day ~ Oh sweet, sweet evening melody..

***

And a noteworthy Quote:

"The art of progress is to preserve order amid change

and to preserve change amid order."

~ Alfred North Whitehead

Do take care & Wishes all, Minerva*

'Lil request: Does anyone of You dear souls, happen to know where i can get mp3 downloads of the melody?

Do drop me a note if so, ya. Big Hugs of Thanks*

i. refuse. to. become. an. automaton.

2005-09-30T21:44:00.000+08:00

Hiya all ye dear ones, a forewarning: have a hunch this might turn out to be a sad, sad post - so do come back to it later if you so wish. (Well, it's basically a summary of the week just past, i.e. collected ruminations, with ups-and-downs, so now worries, am better now. i guess.)

Just that

i've known pain and suffering, oh yes

and from what's come to pass over the years

i've found i can indeed take quite a fair amount of it all, yet -

not this disillusionment,

this mindless, c.l.o.c.k.w.o.r.k routine my dream-soul-in-flight cannot fathom

this seeming void of purpose.

but still, i keep searching, searching the depths

of mundanities & endless tasks whose justifications lie veiled in gold ribbons and ivory towers of theory

it drains me so - this eternal delving into an abyss, whose name i cannot quite place, with my own beliefs

and yet, i have to go on, i will - in salutation to a promise made.

but why - may i humbly ask -

the impersonal, harsh [and blind] objectivity

the dismissal of the fragile human need to seek purpose

why the rote, mundanities that bind our frail hands in a frenetic pace, our pulses strain to keep up with

Why the de-hu-man-i-sa-tion?

And leaving you with lines so dear to mine heart (in/out-of-context, and yet it holds true..)

Har gham ko humne chupaya

Har sitam ko haske uthaya

Kaanto ko bhi gale se lagaya

Aur phoolon se zakhm khaya

Take care all, Minerva*

when celestial stars descend to dazzle the earth

2005-09-24T17:52:00.000+08:00

Heya all - Guess Who's in Town..

A Great, Warm Welcome to the dear Indian music composer A.R.Rahman, the dear chap of sheer genius, and above all,

his beautifully human humility, which only serves to
illumine his colossal stature in the eyes of fellow mortals.

And of course to his endeared friends too (including ahem, our dear "ghazal maestro Hariharan" too..)

& thence, the title here:

* when celestial stars descend to dazzle the earth *

With a Beautiful Quote of Humanity, Simplicity & Truth:

"We are all human. Don't take more specific classification seriously."

~ Ernest Gellner

Been all aswirl amidst soul-enthralling music lately (to keep battling these dreary days)

- Friends to note new Music Link ("Catch a Tune with Me") on the left frame -

but the most uplifting tune would have to be Harisaab's ghazal Shahar dar Shahar.

Take care all.

Back to work, Minerva*

a delta for every epsilon

2005-09-24T17:36:00.000+08:00

Great Big Hugs to all you dear ones, esp. dearest Compatriots of the Minervan Fellowship who've sweetly awaited my return..

Am back after a week-looong hiatus & fatigued with all the mindless mundanities that these days seem to submerge one in regularly.
In truth, Urs truly's been depriving herself of the things that I love, like spending time with dear friends - and that includes each one of you too -
belting out fave tunes & musing on life.

So, to brighten up all our hearts & strike some mathematical (or logico-musical, rather) cheers (you'll understand why, soon enough..) in our minds:
Something I'd chanced across lately (click on the wma.video link below) . And Thanks to Thuz, for explaining to me the intricacies of:

Why there's a Delta for Every Epsilon

[how sad, how cruel, how tragic..]

More links:
Thanks to the dear Sir, Prof Tom Lehrer - The Lyrics &
Elementary, my dear Watson. (practise your old high school chemistry)
Now, how was that?

Ok, since i seem to have passed on my depression via my absence of late, let me redress that with this, today. Take care all & keep musing, Minerva*

Many people might be surprised to think of laughter as a form of meditation.

Yet not only is laughing meditation one of the simplest forms of meditation, but also it is a very powerful one. The physical act of laughing is one of the few actions involving the body, emotions, and the soul.

When we laugh, we give ourselves over to the immediacy of the present moment.

We also are able to momentarily transcend minor physical and mental stresses...

Laughter also can help open our eyes to previously unnoticed absurdities that can make life seem less serious.

Learn to laugh in the present moment, and you'll find that joy is always there.

- Daily Om's "Centered Silliness: Laughing Meditation," emphasis here is mine. -

For You, Thuz.

2005-09-14T20:08:00.000+08:00

* This post is dedicated to *Thuz, of course. *

In such mad, mad times as these, to be there -
when one most needs an assuring voice of reason,
a firm shoulder to lean on, when arrested by mental fatigue,
to stride into the path of a furiously frenetic world

- often wanting of meaning -

a fellow-Warrior to face the oncoming storm head-on with,
together.

Thank you, Thuz - for riding this storm, with me.

***

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world ...

~ W.B. Yeats

***

Ok dear folks, right on the topic of twins: A rather adorable article. Enjoy!
Just this special, soft spot for twins (and preemies, too) of Urs truly, i guess..

Ok, back to work now. Wishes all, Minerva.

zindagi hai kahan

2005-09-12T01:48:00.000+08:00

About time we had a Cheery picture, na?

Keep me away from the wisdom, which does not cry,

the philosophy which does not laugh and

the greatness which does not bow before children.

~ Kahlil Gibran

Wishes always, Minerva*

(..With a new melody ~ Main Yahan Tu Wahan, from Baghban,

rendered by Amitabhji & Alka Yagnik)

To all dear blog-friends: been thinking of starting

* an experimental blog for musings: ramta jogi *

of education, progress & such - perhaps a transient phase, let's see.

As always, All of you dear ones, are warmly Welcome. Take care all.

minervan note of thanks

2005-09-11T23:09:00.000+08:00

Hiya all, back for a short while. Strongly hoping all blog-friends (esp. those who haven't been posting lately) are fine..

*this post is dedicated to the people who made the last (draining as it was) week bearable:

i. my luvly niece Nithuz ~

who actually sung me (twice) the first verse of her currently fave tune over the phone - in her cute 2 (and 3/4) year old kid-voice, replete with her Aussie slang.. Get well soon, Nithuz dearie*
And to know why Urs truly's still amused: Check out the song (3rd down the list) here - Kannum Kannum.

ii. One of my Supervisors, Prof. Dindyal ~

who interestingly, happens to be Thuz' (i.e. Urs truly's scorpio-twin) Math Prof too, only he hasn't realized it yet - who gave me temporary leave last Thursday to allow me some (much-needed) time to handle the pressing matter of completing a major group paper.

*Left me musing on how, even whilst we work with friends, adversity can bring out so much of one anothers' character - not judging, only observing -

- and when things get tough and times grow harsh -

from somewhere, somehow there seemeth to be someone (or something) always, to light that single spark of hope and courage to go on, yes?
So Shukriya, Prof. D.

*An aside to friends here - everytime Thuz fills me in on her Math lesson, i quip [sincerely meant, of course] that the next time, we should greet him with this particular fiesty song by Harisaab & Sujatha (composed by dear A.R.Rahman).
Again, you gotta listen to it (last song in the list) to know why:

here - Dolnaa Dolnaa.

& most especially,
iii. met dearest Takurdaji again.

- Nothing quite like sitting awhile with the dear Poet, his musings - and this time, with his friend, Poet Kabir (with his adorably beautiful words, oh yes) as well -
to enthuse a well-worn soul of an utterly draining week, in a beautiful evening rendezvous, no less..

Life

This world is beautiful. I do not want to die.

I wish to live in the life of man,

and have a place in his living heart,

as in a sunbright flowerful garden.

Oh, the ceaseless ripple of life on earth,

the meetings and partings so happy and sad!

With human joys and griefs I shall wreathe my song,

and live for ever in the deathless life of man.

If I fail, then may I have

a little place in your midst, my friends,

and make new songs at morn and eve,

like flowers that bloom to be culled by you.

Pick my flowers with a smile on your face,

and throw them away when they fade.

~ Takurdaji.

This World is Beautiful: A Collection for Young People, 1880.

Take care all & Wishes always, Minerva*

revival

2005-09-03T20:09:00.000+08:00

Attended a good friend's (met her in training) wedding earlier this afternoon: 1st Church wedding i've been to.

***

This is for you, Anna:

Firstly, Thanks so much for inviting me for Ur Big Day, dear Anna.
Especially cos' we've only known each other for around two months..

And btw, You were resplendent in that gown.
Thanks for the beautiful honour, my friend.

Bestest best wishes for a Wonderful married life &

Here's to many more golden moments together.

Do take care & love, me*

***

Ok, dear folks (hope you've all been doing fine). On the topic of revival, now -
been trying to chase away the blues (residue from the draaaining weeks of training), and well, nothing quite like a surprise, sweet movie to lift your spirits, eh?

Caught Hallmark's "Mermaid" earlier this evening -
Of a child (and mom) coming to terms with the dad's demise & more. Of course -
the beauty shines forth solely from the child's undaunting belief in the world
in Dreams, in Wishes (that can indeed come true, by well-meaning stranger-souls, if not miracles) .
And --

in Good.
Beautiful.

Take care all & Wishes,
Minerva*

for a change

2005-09-02T13:33:00.000+08:00

in need of a breather, really.

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.

~ Albert Einstein (quote courtesy of Bruderhof Daily Dig)

Take care all.

p.s. Did discover something sweetly refreshing lately - discovered by chance

(as we do the wayside shrines and the shyly hiding weed-flowers therein)

thanks to a good blog friend (hint: busy chap): Last.fm's Audioscrobbler

Am still learning the ropes - and it's not working in my home pc, hmm..

But still, it's a nice way of sharing latest fave tunes, do check it out.

soul a-wandering

2005-09-02T13:21:00.000+08:00

Like driftwood in choppy waters so harsh,

sun-specked dust lost in the whirlwinds so blinding,

that sparkling dewdrop gem so jovial, now gone

silvern stars lost. Forgotten in the harsh daylight skies,

and a lone itinerant soul lost in all the whirl-swirl of the dunes

. ... .

Telling, na?
how circumstances doled out by 'tis life can drain you so.

Though this had been part of the initial plans (career-wise), it's been real soul-draining these past few months or so.. and many a times i've caught myself ruminating on why i'm doing what i am.

Well, for Now, a few confirmed decisions: three years in service definitely, to serve my bond - but after that?
Have plans (or dreams, i should say) yes, to do with More Learning, more delving with Knowledge.. let's see.

It's not that Urs truly's grown tired of the Vocation. Have always believed in Learning & the noble imparting of Knowledge, but why, oh why all the rigidity?

Ol' blog friends might remember this old lament,
of how i'd mused that, in all our eagerness to make sense of this world around us - as if there's some compulsion to - we label all things with definite Names and tell ourselves that we have to comprehend these wonders strictly by arbitrary, mechanical categories, classified to the bone.
And the learning/exploring of these wonders - we seek to compartmentalise it, vehemently insisting we go by the book, justify, justify every step of the way.

I know classifying things has always been second nature to us humans - it's effective in organising & retrieving old memories -

but still, is there really a need to only view these constructs
as notions that need to be singly approached by impersonal lists of rules/objectives, that we (caged within rules, like automatons ourselves) have to strictly abide by, lest we fall off the plane of security of old thinking ways and habits?

But how is it that noone sees the lost moment
- of how, in our desperate attempts to chart neat and systematized progress in our histories, we stick so firmly to mechanical schedules/approaches that we forget the original mystery that had astounded us.

...

We hold the fluttering butterfly - to preserve it in all its captivating splendour

tightly within our firmly clenched, nervously human and thence, fallible hands

but alas we break the original magic that had enthralled our imagination so.

...

Sorry for the rambling, dear folks. Needed to get that off-and-out.
But do give it a thought, and tell me what you think.
Promise to post a cheerier note the next time.
Love, Minerva*

All's fair in..

2005-08-27T23:50:00.001+08:00

since the Muses haven't come a-visiting lately, allow me to regale you with a couple of quizzies (just to kill time & slay the prevailing ennui)..

***

You are a protector.
Yes, you don't like to kill people. That goes
against everything you believe in. It's not that
you are a coward, but your ideals and morals
wouldn't allow it. You are the typical hero, do
the righteous things, get the bad guys and do
it all legally...

You use your brain and your
strength to do honourable deeds and protect
people you know and love. If an evil guy is
going to take over the world soon, it's you who
will get involved. You hate watching innocents
suffer, and love seeing bad people getting what
they deserve. You are probably also happy and
optimistic and work pretty good in groups. And
the friends you usually make are true ones.

Main weapon: Anything at all
Quote: "You only live once, but if
you do it right, once is enough" - Joe
Lewis
Facial expression: Smile

What Type of Killer Are You? [cool pictures]
brought to you by Quizilla

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant.
Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle.
You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs.

For you, comfort and calm are very important.
You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection.
You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

***

Signing off with Blake, now..

To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour ...

Thanks to *Goddess for the 2nd quiz-link. Btw, Goddess, i do identify with the Samurai figure too ~ Only, Am one with silverine anklets, aha..

*Latest tunes in my head: Chali Chali (& Main yahan tu wahan), from Baghban - und - Yun Hi Chala, from Swades..

Take care all & Wishes, Minerva*

aati jaati saanson main khushboo hai..

2005-08-23T21:12:00.000+08:00

~ this post is a continuation of the prior Khushboo ~
*So U'll know what I meant:

Where Shadow Chases Light

This is my delight,

thus to wait and watch at the wayside

where shadow chases light

and the rain comes in the wake of the summer.

Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies,

greet me and speed along the road.

My heart is glad within,

and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet.

From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door,

and I know that of a sudden

the happy moment will arrive when I shall see.

In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone.

In the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise.

Photo courtesy of DailyOM
And by dearest Takurdaji again - for the same sentiments: Distant Time.

& *bluestreak my friend, thanks for your well wishes earlier - there's never quite an apt balm for a weary soul

~ as some good literature, music & the company of dear friends. ~

btw, the title's from an old fave song by The Colonial Cousins in an earlier album: song entitled Teri Meri Aankhon Mein. Very soul-soothing to listen to old faves, oh yes.

Tho' i'd recommend to interested friends that you try to get the original cd (for all the songs in their resplendent wonder), esp. for some of the more beautiful tunes..

here's an online site that offers the ghazal-pop duo's MTV Unplugged 1996 performance (scroll down for the Colonial Cousins Unplugged ram links). *For those who know, do look out for

*Hariji's absolutely enjoyable Tamil-Hindi rendition of Uyire-Tu Hi Re..

Take care all, Minerva.

khushboo..

2005-08-23T20:25:00.000+08:00

First of all, Big Thanks & hugs to all my blog-friends who've been spreading Ur warmth und Cheer ~ Danke schon, dear all!

Well well, since I take the liberty to emburden you with bleak moments of late, I guess - all the more - you deserve to share in my 'lil joys too.

For some reason I cannot yet uncover -
have been feeling awashed with this feeling of bliss (yes, that comes close) all this evening, as when one's really gifted with an especial moment in time.. only, i can't quite isolate any one particular occasion today, hmm.

So, my only guess -
that someone dear's having a great Cause for genuine joy & celebration..

Now - did that sound odd, somehow?
For it's true, Urs truly has indeed felt (& usually turning out to be true, too)
bouts of exceptional bliss (with a veneer of palpable calm)
only to discover later from a dear soul of a special incident that'd triggered similar (albeit, real) effects too..

So, who cld it be, i'm wondering..
Dearest Alice, Shabnam or Thuz?
or Bettina - or - Akka dearest..
or tum, Zombie dear or Goddess?
anyone of you guys, hmm?

Whoever it is - and for all of you too -

May this gift of Cheer, Bliss & Warmth be with you, always.

Take care, ya all & Wishes always,
Minerva*

chalak chalak..

2005-08-21T00:33:00.000+08:00

***

I sit on the grass and gaze upon the sky and dream of the sudden splendour of thy coming - all the lights ablaze, golden pennons flying over thy car,

and they at the roadside standing agape,

when they see thee come down from thy seat to raise me from the dust,

and set at thy side this ragged beggar girl a-tremble with shame and pride,

like a creeper in a summer breeze.

***

dear friends nearer at hand might know that Urs truly's not been feelin' too good lately. Not only the draining journeys schoolward, but the late emotional, intellectual turmoil..
Been badly in need of a shining, new Melody to perk things up a bit
(altho' yes, dear 'ol dost, the Moon's there too)..

Which was why -
things brightened (literally, as well) up a lot when dear Uncleji dropped in at our place today (Yay, and Thanks Periappa!). Back home on a short trip, he'd got us

Neat, sweet, elegant pairs of.. silver anklets!
- the indian kind, of course.

i do have an older pair, one that's broader & heavier, with more tinkling bells. But alas, too loud/grand to be worn to school, no?

but this pair - a single neat line with blossom motifs at nodes (to borrow the lexis) on the main silver chain with tiny tinkling bells,

with little silver globules at the intermittent internodes - is a pure beauty to behold.
Subtle, soft and simply heartlifting.

So go on, imagine..

a perfect Tagorian (dear Poet-dost, by whom the abovequoted Poem came to be) landscape of a beautiful evening, with a cool breeze, and the silvery moon peeking through the night-green leaves of the champak tree..
- just to go along with the atmos..

*Especial Hugs & Heartfelt Thanks to dear *Goddess for offering me your valued advice (esp. wrt the recent spate of wanton comments) & Ur Friendship.

May your path be illuminated with Cheer, Warmth & Love always.*

Take care all & Hugs,
Minerva*
p.s.I Latest addition to the booklist: Mr Kishore Mahbubani's "Can Asians Think?"

p.s.II *Zombie dear - ended up deleting/re-doing the post agn, altho' now dear (non-blogger) friends & guests cannot leave their notes..

All best for renovation works over at Ur corner & Luv, Minerva*

Always a better way

2005-08-20T00:12:00.000+08:00

Chanced across this great tale - impressive message too, from here.
*Wishes & take care all, Minerva.

***

A blind boy sat on the steps of a building with a hat by his feet. He held up a sign which said: “I am blind, please help.” There were only a few coins in the hat.

A man was walking by. He took a few coins from his pocket and dropped them into the hat. He then took the sign, turned it around, and wrote some words. He put the sign back so that everyone who walked by would see the new words.

Soon the hat began to fill up. A lot more people were giving money to the blind boy.

That afternoon the man who had changed the sign came to see how things were. The boy recognised his footsteps and asked, “Were you the one who changed my sign this morning? What did you write?” The man said, “I only wrote the truth. I said what you said but in a different way.”

What he had written was: “Today is a beautiful day and I cannot see it.”

Do you think the first sign and the second sign were saying the same thing?
Of course both signs told people the boy was blind.
But the first sign simply told people to help by putting some money in the hat. The second sign told people that they were able to enjoy the beauty of the day, but the boy could not enjoy it because he was blind.
The first sign simply said the boy was blind. The second sign told people they were so lucky that they were not blind. Should we be surprised that the second sign was more effective?

There are at least two lessons we can learn from this simple story.
The first is: Be thankful for what you have. Someone else has less. Help where you can.
The second is: Be creative. Be innovative. Think differently.
THERE IS ALWAYS A BETTER WAY!

***

Warm Welcome to Asmi und Auriond

2005-08-15T00:30:00.000+08:00

Heya all, quickie post here.. hope all of U've been fine.

Firstly,

A Warm Welcome to a great friend,

*Asmi, who's just begun her blog ~ Yay!

So do visit her Kahkashaan & spread your Cheer, dear all.

*****

Next,

- borne of a recent, accidental discovery of a school friend's awesome Talent: Proceed here to check it out.

(Dear blog-dost *Zombie'd be glad to note *Auriond dabbles with PhotoShop too.. )

Thanks for sharing your work & for your friendship,*Auriond,

& Keep up the great job!

And of course,

Home to dear Friends far and near,

to great minds inspiring & dear

Haven of golden memories forevermore ~

A Joyous, Peaceful & Memorable Independence Day to Bharat Ma,

& all dear Friends!

Take care all & Wishes,

Minerva*

(Image courtesy of Bruderhof Daily Dig)

A human being is a part of the whole that we call the universe, a part limited in time and space. And yet we experience ourselves, our thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest - a kind of optical illusion of our consciousness. This illusion is a prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for only the few people nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living beings and all of nature.

~ Albert Einstein

Let Every Dawn Herald New Beginnings

bring me that horizon

No matter what..

To mine dearhearts, a little note

where little dreams may go

Be back.

Living an experiment

Learning & Moving on..

Believe.

New Beginnings

*pedo mellon a minno

the journey of Hope continues..

reclaiming Hope

revival

healing anew

a brand new start

a note to all of Minerva's dear kindred souls

Never too late

to hope, believe and live.

the beginning is always today

In Us, or Nowhere.

Naina neer baha..

this unread letter..

the In-between times..

Apni zulfein mere shano..

Koi bole Ram Ram Koi Khudai

what really matters

Om Bhur Bhuvassuvaha Tat Saviturvarenyam\ Bhargo Devasya Dheemahi Dhiyo Yonah Prachodayat

Of hearty moments & A child's smiles

Of love & what it takes

there's more to life

kitni baatein..

Happy Universal Children's Day

is it too much to ask of this world?

as a little starlet ashimmer in the twilight..

on the Alchemist

go on, take a guess.

ramta jogi

whoever shall command the skylark not to sing?

Yaad to aati hogi na..

gems or raindrops

h.i.a.t.u.s.

For You, dear *Poet-Soul

dheemi dheemi..

i. refuse. to. become. an. automaton.

when celestial stars descend to dazzle the earth

a delta for every epsilon

For You, Thuz.

zindagi hai kahan

minervan note of *thanks*

revival

for a change

soul a-wandering

All's fair in..

aati jaati saanson main khushboo hai..

khushboo..

chalak chalak..

Always a better way

Warm Welcome to *Asmi und *Auriond

minervan note of thanks

Warm Welcome to Asmi und Auriond