My garden,Indian Chickweed,Molluga Vercillata

Google out,but didn't come to right conclusion about the vegetation.Its leaves and shoots are soft thick and fleshy.Its majenta color flowers bloom in autumn.
Its local name is Nepali Sag of poi jati,illustrated by two local accessible experts of my home.
Few years back my house hold help  brought me the shrub and cheerfully exclaimed,"Try this sag,it really taste good. Mondal Memsahib(another house where she also works) daily cooks it. It is Nepali Sag." Plants and flowers are the most discussed topics usually I had with her. And in her delight she often brought me  plants  from other places known to her knowing by liking of gardening. Viewing my agreement with her enthusiasm she smilingly planted it in the near by pot, kept in the varandah.
It(the Nepali Sag) grew there in the pot,then in the autumn it flowered.In the few months the thick sacculent vine outgrowing the mother pot extended to another.
A habitual hesitant to try out new food my scepticism to include it in meal continued for the time being. So it remained there in the pots for a year.Then during the festive season while i had been organising the plants I took out it from the pot and recklessly threw it in the yard.
But it had come to stay in my home.Untended the thick green foliage took refuge in the earth and spread there in oblivion side of the garden. It pleasantly carpeted there,clumping up and  down on the pebbles and strewn stones,enjoying odds of seasons and negligance of residents in detachment. Sometimes while crossing  that untended side of the garden I couldn't resist the temptation to watch it. Everything about the carpeted weed was beautiful,its thick soft sacculent shoots, soft and smooth fleshy leaves,and every year in autumn when it blooms flowers. Forgetting about its gastronomical appeal for years it became my visual treat.
Then this year my attention went on the prostrate carpeted vegetation.Enticed with its charm, one fine morning, I showed it to the gardener and asked his opinion about it,like an expert he cursorily glanced on it still busy in his job and retorted," This one,yes,it is a sag,Poi sag ki jati ka."
Though his answer didn't convince me but loner by nature  I hadn't any access to more experts.
So i googled out some information about it,checked and rechecked it's edible properties and decided to tryout a recipe out of it.
Then came out potatoes with this chickweed sag,it looked delicious as well as taste astoundingly good.

My garden,Moringa leaves

Moringa leaves or sahjan leaves are highly nutritious. I reside at border area where the habitants are conglomeration of Jharkhand,Bengal and tribal people.
In more than two decades of my stay at the place I picked up many skills of their cultures specially the culinary.
What I admire most about them is the their simple eating habits,especially use of  plenty of leafy vegetables in the diet. Being a vegetarian it suits us best.
Sometimes I will show you,how people here prepare sag or leafy vegetables and why should we  include them in our  meals.
Sahjan leaves are the richest source of calcium. It is essential component of blood,bones,teeth etc., which we tend to lose due to our acidic nature of food intake. In women,with advancing age,osteogen levels falls so the level of calcium  in the body. When body turn acidic to neutralise the acidic effect of body,it first takes calcium from blood then from bones,as a result bones and joints become brittle,as body physiology works best in alkaline medium.
Acidic nature of body gives us pain and harmful bacteria etc thrives best in it.
So intake of leafy vegetables serves two purposes,it makes body alkaline and restores calcium in blood bones and muscles.
Today I made vegetable of potatoes and sahjan leaves and channa Dal also with sahjan leaves.
Ingredients are simple with puchforan,curry leaves,hing,onion,ginger paste,raw coconut paste,haldi.
Usually two dishes with same ingredients we don't cook. But today I did it just to show you.

Papa,diary, parents

My writing My parents My papa Why i didn't see you...papa In your anger.... Your perpetual tiredness,which you gained,while grinding your life in committments. Why I didn't see you...papa When you became father of grownup fellows,when you were still in your thirties/ twenties Why I didn't see you...papa And expected a balanced demeanor,when you lost the temper.....while burning vin hardships Why i didn't see you...papa Beside giving to all around you,why you were the most critised of whole clan I didn't see you...papa Only time have passed and this time without your guidance I sniffed your self and understood you completely As I inched to growing age When I tend to lose temper under the fatigue and didn't find respite from created trouble of world around me I console my self... It is okay to lose temper as I am proud daughter of my father....a daughter,the mirror of her parents who used to do the same..

Indomitable Spirit

Looking for success stories or story of triumph on odds,most of the time we look on the silver screen or  to the life of great and mighty ones who more often taken by us as  role models.
But many stories in our surroundings get unnoticed by us. Here is one story from our surrounding,a perfect example of beating the odds, making the most from the worst moments.

This is the story of some one, a soft spoken,looking beautiful not due to her skin and cuts,but through her brain.The intelligence which never screamed in the crowds,instead she showed her serene presence through merit list.
The intelligence so soothing that even the weekest of the lots finds in her  something  appealing. Just to start about her ,I would like to mention one incidence.
The class was of physiology and the ongoing  topic was pancreas  functioning. The class was completed by the dexterous master of the campus who had been known for giving us minute details on the topic. But if mind is stressed then it  lacks focus, and fails to pick up details.Going through my post teenager stress at the end of the class I missed some points which we students used to jot down for further reference. When teacher left the class ,I gloomily mumbled,I missed some points at the end. The peaceful grey matter sitting beside me glanced at my page,in second she discerned  the missing points in the note,and in her usual soft demeanour added, "insulin and glucagon,insulin suppresses excess glucose discharge in the cells and glucagon releases." My topic got  completed by her. She did it without any air around her. Not a very bright person i was but the gifted intuitive power of mine hardly failed me. I sensed and saw in her,"A promising academician in the making."
The info passed by her in soft and congenial way which  i grasped  with full clarity. After few years teaching at senior sections at school,whenever I took up the topic,I got smile on my face remembering her. More than that beside the topic,the soft demeanor used by her was the biggest learning for me. As a facilitator I learnt that to convey the message it should be passed as suggestion. And i follow the rule of congeniality  to tell,suggest not to command my students.From her i learnt that the heart warming soft voice always has magical appeal and everyone loves to hear n remember it.
The soft spoken and short statured was loved by one and all perhaps for her sweetness or her congenial genius. She had been always in the heart of all of us. She had been at the top of merit list,ranking always within top ten but all without reflecting any supremacy. As the politeness was genetically encoded in her..
An apt daughter of apt parents. Life of hers was really blessed with loving and intelligent parents anyone could dream about.
But life has some purpose which is beyond our power of comprehension. Life and destiny tests us. And she was also not exempted from it.
In prestigious institution of Science College the day was going to be really cruel that day,no one had inkling. The day started with usual cacophony, my elder brother a student of math n Physics's department informed me in the evening,one of the gems of the physics department got heart attack in the classroom and sifted to ICU. Bad news never got wrong,next day we came to know that said  teacher was our batch mate's father. Our hearts ached for her, we all visited her home,I still recall the word of loving daughter," Entire night we read Hanuman Chalisha but that couldn't save papa." At the age of twenty it was hard to me to understand the purpose behind the God's plan.
But many questions went unanswered."Why a superb brain, a spiritual person, a teetotaller, a man of diciplined life got sever heart attack," What propelled his body physiology to under go such massive attack,even science hadn't any  answer. Students mourned ,"Why on the earth one of the best acadmecians was taken by god so early in life? Everyone as mute spectator accepted God's decision. On personal level I thought, "The news n duscussion on him were discussed enough. But it wasn't."
When after decades,We watched  Aamir's block buster,"Three Idiots," based on Chetan Bhagat's adapted novel. My brother exclaimed, "Mr.......Sir,a genius too used to write with both hands on the black board,so passionately he used to teach as if enjoying every moments of ..." The discussion about the revered teacher never fail to take place when ever any semblance of his floated in surroundings.On every occasion I proved an interested listener as it was topic of my friend and batchmate's father.
Then few years back at WhatsApp group I was asked by one of our friends about her.I answered with surity ,"Where ever she has been she must have been doing well at her place. My intuitive prowness again came to the surface and with closed eyes I conjured the glimpse of the academician perfectly doing her job.The polite explanation by her of pancreatic enzymes floated once again in front of me. But I had to cross check my intuitive power. After a year she was there at our WhatsApp group, and i found my gut feeling was right.
Her presence in the group again invoked curiosity in me. I found her messages aimed at motivations and to better life in every possible way.As life had taught her to battle hardship, to live dream of loving parents,not only she did it well but all her siblings accomplished the best in their lives.

Now she has been here with us,Nimi...,the peaceful one,known for appropriateness as she has been taught to lead life by her parents,father an apt academician and mother a devoted home maker.
Sometimes a mute question comes in mind,can we be sure that the ebb and tides of life  for us is now  complete?No,it is not,it will be here in life, to test us, more importantly to perfect us to face it.But presence of persons like her gives confidence that  the hard time will also pass. And motivate us to get  focused to better the life!

"Pyar hua hai jab se," Song review,Movie "Abhilasha."

The  romantic melody of 1968," Pyar hua hai jab se," in which   handsome Sanjay Khan and coy Nanda had been played the main leads.
In the era of 1960s when  nacent fashion industry of India had been opening its ground in the Bollywood.In those time the protagonists were usually seen in the  confused blend of western and ethnic wears with enough of blue and yellow hues.Even the dance moves had been getting quite detached from the pure rock n roll of british era or traditional Indians.Perhaps it was the time  bollywood had been preparing to leap in the new hip hop style.
The flick's,"Abhilasha" story line is  based on  of typical predictable formula film.
A not very successful film but the song ,"Pyar hua hai jub se," holds enough appeal due to its fresh renditions by melody queen Lata and legendary yodeller king Kisore Kumar. Their soulful voices delight the senses for long.
The song starts with an on screen chirpy n feisty girl Nanda dreaming of her beloved (who has been away at Dehradun to join army) with his photograph tucked under her pillow,which her loving father finds and smiles acknowledging her inclination to the guy.

Absence of love,absence of life

"Some say the world will end in the fire
Some say in the ice
But if it had to perish twice
I think I know enough of hate."
-Robert Frost
Rightly proclaimed by the poet.Hate or absence of love is so powerful that it can perish the world twice.
Yesterday shocking suicidal news of an IAS officer,the supreme brain and body is example of absence of love.
Love is always based on understanding, misturstanding is the root cause of hate.There is no problem without solution. Only we need willingness and awareness to solve it.
But unfortunately sometimes even a superb intellect also fails to find right decision.
It is heart wrenching to all to face loss of a superior intellect n body- a microcosm of Universe just got lost in misunderstanding and in absence of love.
The shocking incident created "many whys" in the mind.And  I conclude the goal of life should be love and understanding. In the absence of love it takes just a moment to parish even the most beautiful  world- full of intellect, power and money.

Women's Day

Arrival of  International Women’s Day, 8th march is knocking  expression in me and surprising silence on I has been witnessing on whats app group. The dual reasons get an outlet as a write- up.
To choose an engaging topic for Whats app group my mind raced and hankered after diverse personalities- then  iconic Suu Kyu, the Nobel laureate, Stateswoman,President of NLD Myanammar appealed most, for her indomitable spirit yet turbulent out of box  way of  life, her marriage to a man one year younger than her. Her education at Cambridge, her mediocre life in Britain, her political career at Burma and subsequent house arrest of 32 years. Her youthful look, her poise, her unfathomable spirit, her landslide victory  at 1915 election and dignified poise to accept the ban for top position.There was allure in everything about her. The subject had been  taking shape in me, and then unexpected I had to undertake the journey—
The train started at usual time at around 6.00 p.m. As the train chugged off, to ease  the encountered melee of startup journey , stretching   on the accomodated space seemed a big relief.
Around mid night the occupant of lower birth made the entry, subsequently a harsh, croaked voice pierced in the compartment.
“Whose footwear is these?”
Groggily someone replied in irritation- “Move them aside and put your luggage beneath.” After her boisterous entry it was her discussion at the audible limit ,from politics to inflation lasted till dawn bereaving  sweet dreams of the fellow occupants. Snatched  out of slumber my attention went to her, an elderly lady in salwar suit ,with cropped hair dos, "Not condusive enough", At first glance I opinioned and tossed on berth with annoyance.
In the morning while going through news paper my engaged attention broke by her query-“Are you a working one?” Smilingly I replied in affirmation. The lady does not seem so crass in the morning. “Where do you work? Sitting on the seat beside me she initiated.
Few moments of mingling revealed more about her. A 65 year old,retired university staff ,diagnosed with multiple maladies ,endured three consecutive operations . She had been fighting the lethal battle of life  on her own.
She was on her way to half yearly follow up to the leading health center.
Her indomitable spirit seemed impressive. I didn’t see a  tinge of apprehension in her voice. The way she had been handling her finance and her ailment without any help was amazing. An enthusiastic raconteur and full of social life she talked on every issue from her food habit to lodging.
During the journey the morning news paper fuelled my the imagination about Aruna Shanbaug,the nurse at KMC Mumbai, her plea for euthanasia got rejected by Supreme Court but her fight for life went on for 38 years.
Then a visit to my daughter's place at metro,I met an young domestic help- a mother of two smilingly greeted me busy in her chores with two small children in tow ,playing near  the stairs.
The women of diverse world invoked many of queries in me “What do keep them going in their world?” Is the biological superiority of female body which is equipped with power of creation? In the mortal world we name it  “ Shakti.”
Then I felt a pressing need to celebrate woman’s day to salute those unwavering spirit who most often go unnoticed.
In my neighbour, I got another lady who had been fighting the emperor of malady. I witnessed her concern for the family-her eyes still focused on child progress and husband needs while fighting her ailment.
Then I get concerned for the next gen feminines  of vibrant intellect who have been single handed juggling their safety, career with myriad other responsibilities.
Heaped with social responsibility, in today’s world Indian woman is the most stressed one. Managing the two worlds of career and home very few realize her unsupported stature in the home and society as a  home Maker or as a career woman. Most often she  lacks much needed support during her life- as a student,  woman, mother,wife and  at work place.
In Indian setup she lacks the facilities like crèche and dignified place or home for parents. Even the mentioning of these needs by her attracts frown from many quarters.As if as a vampire she has been ready to dump children in strangers' hand and ready to leave the old parents without any support and care.
Just be humane and think about the necessary strength she requires to carry out her  the day' s obligations.
It scares me "How long she can sustain the self without pushing  in depression and persistent fatigue.  A common companion of Indian woman!"
The world is changing fast so the woman as an individual- to save the society we need to save the woman. Since century she has been taking care of everyone.
In today's world equipped with education and aspiration she needs some understanding and change in family setup to sustain and showcase her potential. May almighty bestow desired strength and support to the creator of the  world, the woman! Happy women’s day!

Hide and Seek at the Yellow Stone

Hide and seek at the yellow stones….

I love to play hide and seek. It is my favorite game. I play hide and seek with my sisters and my friends who reside in neighborhood . While playing we hide in dark corners of our houses and gardens. We often continue our game till it gets quite dark.

My mother sometimes gets infuriated thinking that we may get bitten by some poisonous insect or snakes in the dark. But we children don’t listen her.

At the back of my house there is a strange bush with bright red flowers. My sisters called it magic bush. Beside the magic bush there is shallow pit which is spread with yellow stones.

During our hide and seek game I would often hide in it. And to my surprise I found that nobody was getting me. I found the place really fascinating.

And then onward I would hide there to escape the attention of my playmates.

And lo…the place was really unique. I was standing on yellow stones, but no one was looking at me. My elder sister passed beside me with searching eyes. She stood beside me for the while but she didn't bother to catch me.

Next day during the play  standing at the yellow stone I hushed in my sister’s ear while she was passing beside me. Amazed she turned to my side but without any reaction she just walked away.

That evening I was fully convinced that the yellow stone pit behind the red bush held some magical power  which made people invisible.

I had been rejoicing on my discovery.Intoxicated with my enthusiastic search I started making the list with whom I would share it or with whom I would keep it a secret…

Till the same evening I caught my sisters…. laughing and discussing about my amazed expression and how they had been fooling me for weeks… 

Aadhar Itinerary

Aadhaar Itinerary 

In  the sultry afternoon  a  muse instinctively drifted through the consciousness , "What  would a monarch feel after winning a fierce battle ?... a big feat accomplished!... and after  accomplishment of great feat at the battle… He must  credite the self with his inflated confidence!  Or  have he been patted his own back taking the credit…Courtesy? Who else, but self!

“But why this inquisitiveness is overwhelming me, a nymph of Bio-Science.. After all Inspection of past is not my foray.”I thought.

But, in a muggy after noon of post spring when I got stuck in a waiting serpentine queue of  Aadhaar card submission,the muse seemed justified. As  the motif of the day had been turning into  replica of sultry summer afternoon.

Standing there in snailing long queue  seemed to me as an infliction of my past karma.

The scene has been taken right from Aadhaar card submission itinerary,an experience of  affliction which every  Indian citizen has to endure.

The  most happening move of Aadhaar card submission at our place had been taking place in most secluded place- in a half ruined dilapidated building of the Public Sector Township. In the narrow, dark cave like room people were squeezing in between in the suffocating stillness. Standing in queue I was amazed how I never registered the presence of the building even in  my two decades of presence there. Might  be that was the reason that the place had been cursing the people in its own way!

It  was the  most dilapidated building of the public sector town ship which most of us till date fail to register without any apparent reason or choose to ignore it as non.- existent. And now it suddenly came alive to prosecute all the citizens for their non-compliance or ignorance.

 Next the non- budging time, forced me to debate about the happenings there. I felt that the Govt of India or the law enforcers had impression that a fully conscious person couldn’t succumb to their demand to provide all the asked informal info. Thus they resorted to a strategical move- first  to numb  the person with snail pace work, and then take the imprint of fingers and photograph- perhaps they were completely skeptical that a fully awaken citizen would  comply to the request.

It was Saturday morning and dabbling my infinite chores  all alone on my own for a mont after my return from work I patted my back after accomplishment of all planned assignments. At the weekend I had already resolved to take an afternoon nap of few hours. 

 While returning from work I purchased all the essentials items and even managed to send the fax for hostel leave to my home coming child. But after lunch before taking my much awaited nap, I made the mistake of calling my offshore spouse.

Inflated in self reliance I intimated him about my successful completion of day’s job and about the on going move of Aadhaar card preparation at our place. I had hardly anticipated that my simple revelation could spoil my much anticipated rest routine in a second.

 As from other end I was persistently suggested to take furtive action to apply for Aadhar card . “See it is an important document. Atleast  one in family it ought to have. You are available there so don’ t “MISS THE OPPURTUNITY,” I was told in bold letter. At least one in the family must procure this essential document.. in the beginning I refused to take the suggestion ,anticipating the nature of multi colored throng of Aadhaar card applicants-but  the persistency  of my spouse melted me.

After half an hour, braving the heat I found myself standing in the endless chaotic queue of multi hued and multi psyched people.

The two and half hours wait in queue seemed endless. The noise and movements of the place were of all types. I felt that only being in  ZEN THOUGHTS could help me. Thus I decided to flow with push and shove of people, not resisting anything but accepting whatever may came in the way  or in the queue.

When the last fifteen minute of working time  dawned, the guys at the computers were seen ready to pull down the shutters. And lo …five minutes before the schedule all the shutters of the computer had been pulled out . A wave of panic surged among the people,standing in the row. For a minute a complete silence reigned at the place. Perhaps most of them preferred to go in personnel space for some divine interceptions.

And to my amazement I found myself just in front of computer screen. The guy at the computer screen was about to pull down the shutters. I decided to try out my luck, so I  appealed him to take atleast my impression.I reasoned him , “How I have already wasted my entire day over there.”  The young soul reciprocated “Aunty you were not in the line in the morning.”

Taking advantage of the already established kinship i initiated my persuasion.Looking at the young savior, my motherly instinct prompted me to adopt him without consent of my spouse.Thus, gripping the cord of established relationship I poured my motherly concern. “Son, see it is really difficult for …” The magic worked for me. I somehow succeeded in getting my imprints and  photographs by the gay but that too without receipt . It meant that I would have to ferry the place next day but I sighed that next day I would surely  be exempted from standing in queue.

In the evening I was queried by neighbor’s about my triumphs of the day. Like a lone literate person of the planet I explained A to Z of the trick. And advised them to reach the place one hour in advance to avoid the rush of the queue . Neighbors took my advice with their core. Like  obedient children they reached the place one and half hour before the schedule time.

At  9 a.m. Mr X was behind Mr Y holding his shirt at the back, scared to pulled behind in the sea of people. Claiming the much coveted first position in the wait- in –line. They were patting their back and their well executed wisdom that they had  reached the place before the schedule.

Soon other wisdom oriented people also started pouring at the place. Till than most of the throngs were the educated suave ones, employees of public sector township. Perhaps it was their familiarity with one another or relief of semblence,  congregation was sighing with relief.

Smile was in the air. Most of them were busy waving or greeting each other. Everything seemed at the place for two hours till the movements were of the resemblance.

Everyone  with great relief was acknowledging the power, position of others and etiquette had been ruling  the work place. Each of them  was duly wished and greeted by one another.

When the clock struck eleven suddenly the Cinderella hours vanished .A surge of people from all walks poured over there. In a minute Mr X got dragged at fifth position in the queue and Mr Y was pushed to twelfth,consoling himself  or rather praying not to be pulled at last in the queue.

But destiny had some other options for ma’ams-Mrs X was lost in the sea of ladies, and Mrs Y who just in front of her were frantically searching her support Mrs X, calling out her name loudly.-----

IT WAS MY AADHAR CARD  ITINERARY

 WHAT WERE YOURS? 

My second e-book: A Step Towards the Light

I am now launching my second e-book. It is on the popular healing method, Reiki and is titled "A step towards the light". 
The book is meant to provide some insight to those who are interested in Reiki healing methods.


Those interested in a free copy of the book may leave their email IDs in the comment section of this post or e-mail me at "arpana52@yahoo.co.in." I'll forward you the book.

PS: My first book, "Ma Durga and The Human Psyche" is also freely available for download. To download, follow the above instructions.

My first book available for free download

On the auspicious occasion of Vijaya Dasmi, I am launching my first book in an EBook format, titled "Ma Durga and Human Psyche.". The book is free to  download if some one is  interested.

The book is dedicated to the divine mother for bestowing the courage to share my expression and to my family for their co-operation.

Anyone wishing to obtain a copy of it can reply with their email IDs in the comment section of this post. 
Alternately, send me an e- mail at "arpana52@yahoo.co.in" and I'll forward you the book.

prayer-ganpati

O, Mercurial lord
Light our consciousness with poise

Let the success walk our path!

O’ Omnipresent,
Be interminable in our intellect
Let your guidence in our lives!

O’ Eternal equanimity
Boon us with power of creation!
Let peaceful poise rule our lives!

O’ Lord of equanimity

Bless us blissful existence
Let harmony rule our being!

O’ Presiding Lord of Muladhar Chakra
Suffuse us with power and prudence
Let strength be our forever companion!

O’ Facilitator of Sharastra Chakra
Bestow light in our lives and actions
Let  discretion be our lead!

O’ Infinite intelligence
Suffuse us with supreme acumen
Let wisdom guide our deeds!

O' Supreme being

Ma everlasting bliss accompany us

Let forever  prudence follow us!
Om Gang Ganpatye Namah!

GANPATI PRAYER

The supreme lord!

Salutation to you!

The embodiment of wisdom

The personification of bliss

Salutation to you!

The foremost celibates

The eliminator of darkness

The dispenser of equanimity

Salutation to you!

The preceptor of discriminations

The guide of  our  endeavor

The  bliss of our existence

Salutation to you!

OM SHRI GANPATYE NAMAH!

Acknowledging the feminine aspect of life

The balance of creation is based on male and female aspects, like earth and sky, day and night, male and female. The presence of both restores the well being or balance of the universe. Both male and female are incomplete without one another.

Female aspects of body are lower chakras, meridians or nadis (i.e.Ida)and left side of  the body.

For balanced life acknowledging female aspects  are important.

The lower chakras and female chakras are Root and Hara. Lower or female chakras take care of physical strength and emotions. Care of physical strength and of emotions can be taken by healing the female chakras.

On physical level,thoughts and mind reside in the chariot - the physical body.Thus strengthing lower chakras take care of physical as well as mental strength.

To heal or strengthen lower chakras, mantra and worship of female deities like Ma Lakshmi , Ma Saraswati and Ma Durga help. Devies or feminine deities represent female aspects of body.

Female as bliss in  life-
Balance only stays in healthy mental and physical body. The balanced physical and mental state provides material bliss.

At the gross level, females are provider of homely and material comforts. In daily life, females of life like mother, sister and wife take care of mental, physical support. And their congenial  presence in life grooms the family members.

Ill thoughts like anger, jealousy and several other cousins of them are creation of lower energy which reside in weak body or weak lower chakras.In a crippled body ,in illness or in ill thoughts no one can lead blissful life

In some of the houses women are disrespected. At subtle level denial of feminine aspect brings bad health. In life disregard of wife or mother or nurturer, brings emotional turmoil. The bad relation and emotional turmoil manifest as bad health.

On gross level the dissonance with mother and wife affect childhood and adult life? The friction with daughter and daughter in law affect old age

To reclaim the sacred feminine aspects of life, respect or healing of the feminine matrix of life is imperative. Thus all feminine aspects such as relations, body  chakras , meridian are equally important.

Respecting and healing female aspects are like rewarding the self with bliss. After all how can a person be happy disregarding the devies of his / her life- mother, sister, wife and daughter.

Female as nurturer or creator of love-
Feminine connections of  life  take care of  bodily need. Feminine power has created us.Thus they are fundamentals basis of life.

Living beings always need and lean on sacred feminine to be nourished. Be it an inner-emotional help or outer help-food and care.

Disrespecting feminine aspect lead to denying nourishment (mental and physical)and health. Denying them is like snapping the sacred umbilical cord of mother and child in womb. The cord which heal, nourish and transform life.

It manifest in life as lack of love- the higher energy the very basis or purpose of life.

The singular masculine even with its dynamism stays in weak physical strength and mental turmoil.He  cannot  achieve anything substantial in life without compromising other basic issues of life.

Feminine is the matrix of creation and love- be it a creation of idea or action. She is the beej or seed of comfort and prosperity in life..

To restore power of creation and prosperity, feminine aspects  like mother, wife,daughter,chakras, meridian,earth and universe should be honored.

Feminine also regarded as seat of love, the greatest emotions. It holds the power to create anything.

For a blissful existence we need to honor her presence within our bodies (chakras), our soul(feminine emotions/knowledge/ moon or ida nadi), ground (earth) and air we breathe.

The excerpts are taken from my e-book compilation to be published soon. Feel free to share your view.

What does it take....?

What does it take to be a teacher? A fleeting muse crossed the conscious. Making me perplexed, the airy muse swayed down to memory lane.

The quest was referred to self, but it showed up  again and again. Baffled I raised another query. “After all what does it take to be a student?”Hhmmnn..a nagging feel floated across the mind, a little scary but inexplicable one that couldn’t be exactly abhorred. What was it?

Musing about my facilitator I concluded?  “They are till date mystical, the unpredictable lot-god has created them like that only.” I sighed.

A bit of hard, rough, scary-but these sclerenchymatous coconut  persona-seemed soothing and supportive during the crisis( after that who had time to think about them, in those rosy seasons of spring). They were with us, the students-before the exams ,during the exams, helping and saving us with bigger fears of lives-topics, unemployment and many more.

More skilled (knowleagble) lot were more dangerous(scary).Always correct with supernatural extinct of sniffing everything about you-a full idea of your head(strength) and tail(weakness),mapping  alpha and omega of brain(capacity).

Personally , I always found security being at distance from them if not afforded to being at  distant.
“Ooph! What could have be done.”after all daily interactions couldn’t be avoided. So that love (ovation and exaltation)-hate (scare and respect) all went simultaneously, till last date at the campus.

Decade later, settled in my teaching job, with blissful conjugal life-I have been juggling dual responsibilities according to my capacity. Then on a chanced visit to my institution, an instantaneous encounter to him pounded my heart. Still maintaining the aura of discipline, in his steady and firm walk, he was crossing the corridor.
His questioned gaze ceased my heart beat for the moment-with dry throat bowing to him, I introduced myself. The towering frame melted to shady banyan of summer, after my intro. His demeanor softened and soon his kindness had been palpable.  Standing under his supportive strength when I was about to regain my ease. He shot, in his deep, grave voice, “what are you doing?”

 I stammered again… I teach in +2 school..somehow I completed-sensing that I fell short of my towering mentor-a gold medalist and Megasaysay Award winner himself-I was completely aware of his expectation and disappointment.

I was standing infront of him-two faces were encountering each other.Voices were disappearing in space but the inner dialogue had been established. He was asking,I was answering without being bother to be listened.  Then the moment of stillness reigned between us. I realized it was time to take permission.

I bent to touch his feet-murmering the last sentence-“take care of your health, sir.” He nodded and bent his face to other side.

Back in the moving vehicle I peeped through the window to catch his glimpse through the corridor.He was wiping his specs. For the moment the time stopped before me.I was in complete debate about my academics, my successes and failures,forgetting my age, my chidren and spouse.

I got the answer why did their presence never fade out of  our memories. Though their thoughts still jolt us but their imparted learning made them immortal in our lives.

And then a voice echoed inside me for my facilitator. Perhaps I didn’t emulate you academically but I learnt so many humane side of yours. And on those learning I have been leading a blissful life. But O, perfectionist we respect and exalt you though still with a scary shudder.

Motherhood

When the compassion blends with bliss of love
The tender wheeze pulsates in the womb

When godliness smiles inside her

The mortal self ascends ahead

When divinity blinked to her fondly
The bundle of bliss chortle in her arm

When the tenderness jingles in the space
The nurturer walkes on the earth

When the fragrance of jingles  lauds the air
The earthly gets the glimpse of divinity

Womanhood

When god blessed the feme
For her unfathomed faith in the creation
He bestowed her with the power of creation,

When the eye of humanity long for divinity on the earth
The luck smiled from the sky in the arm of femme
When the motif of nature awe the deer doe mortal

She stepped ahead with power of creation
When the humanity looks for ascension
She walked alive  uplifting the joy of earthly

Bundle of bliss- chortle in and around her
Divinity walked on the earth in her silhouette
Her charisma blessed the space-as the home.

The tryst of air

In the monsoon of August I breezed through the heart of India, the Capital, Indraprastha ,Dilli or New Delhi. As sustainer of life I flew everywhere.My tryst with people then amazed me. 

In the monsoon,cooling the scorching earth I halted at the traffic signal.As the signal turned red and the serpentine queue of moving fleet came to the halt. Through the meandering space of vehicles out came a thin tiny hand. She had been holding a small flag in one hand and a dozen in other. Flagging the spluttering paper flags in monsoon’s air, the matted hair crooned in high pitched voice- “Dus ke ek ,dus ke ek.”

She ran through the lane of interlaced vehicles. The momentary business deal brought sparkle in her soiled pale face. To cash the momentary business deal her body got into a nervy jerk. Her walk as well as her droning became fast, to cash in the moments before signal turns green.

Since last year, month of August appeared promising to her tribe-the flag sellers. Usually the Independence Day would be regarded as the day of sale for them. But the scenario of flag sell changed since last year due to Anna’s movement, “India against corruption.” Like last year, that year too month of August boosted her sale. Anna’s movement at Janter Manter extended the period of their flags sell.

Every morning with her family or street folks she would head to the place to get big sell. En Route to  India Gate on the occasions like Independence Day or Anna Movement would draw a big sell. A good sell like these days ensure a full meal at night. She knows after that she would have to turn to begging, perhaps near a temple or Gurudwara.

She peeped through the glass of closed window flashing her small flag-“dus ruiya, dus rupiya ka ek” expectantly. A little motion of rolling window would bring sparkle in her eyes. Her bony frame would hurry to make most of the moment. Her agility left  other flag seller  kids disillusioned. She knew that she had to be alert to avoid being left out. That day Monu and Ganesh were also moving with her in the same fleet of vehicles.

Watching the struggle amidst the speed, for some respite, I slowed down to relax. The hide and seek of sun rays pushed me inside an imposing vehicle. Some big weights were inside the speeding vehicle.

“Is the Lokpal, really an anti corruption movement or just a motive to fulfill their political ambitions? Let’s see what they will do this time. These are simply their gimmicks to enter into politics,” The heavy weight stated.  “The weak long same drama every year, they are aimless and confused themselves. Does this way country run?”

The big eyed one retorted, “It is better they  get refusal at first day by government. There won't be any discussion on Lokpal bill this monsoon session. And who care about their baseless charges and request for probe in mining scam. Politics of 66 years are not going to change."  "It will remain same,"  he chuckled.”

Big impressive fleets, with big people inside had been heading the Raj path to take part in function. A sickening thoughts engulfed me, " 66 years of republic-billion plus populous, surging economy, two winter session to pass the right and strong bill.42 years of their lackadaisical intention just kept it postponed till date."

"Is it a dead movement of anti corruption crusaders or start of new era?" a muse crossed through me.
"Whether a new party of clean people will ever be formed? Will they compete with existing one? Will a strong Lokpal Bill come?

I knew," Future of all these queries depend on the people. It must come from their hearts. But whether the high class with ruling money power, the ever busy middle class, in honing their skills or the toiling lower class will contribute their efforts to form clean governance. Or they will just move on to their lives taking corruption and inflation as their destiny."

"Or will I move in the same lackadaisical attitude of denizens watching irony of their lives? Or will I ever see a new India, free of corruption and problems of common lives?"

I am the air .I breathe through you and a part of you.

In the land of apathy

Through the gaps of thatched roof the morning rays filtered in. It softly caressed Mangtu’s face. He stirred under the sheet feeling the warmth of it. Slouching on his charpoy the thirteen years old reckoned the day ahead.

He saw the vacant kantha of Aaji on the floor. Being greeted by the morning sun, she had already been up. He looked at her. The cranky faced, Aaji was an emaciated frame. Her gray hair were matted. Burdened with failing health, she had been crouching down. Getting up from mat, she staggered towards the river for morning wash.

An orphaned child of violence ravaged zone, Mangtu had lost his parents’ six years back in rivalry. In the family he and the frail Aaji were the ill-feted survival of the gory aftermath that had taken toll of his parents.


After that, for years ,tagging him along,the frail elderly would  walk for work. The house hold leftovers were his childhood feed.   Sometimes she had to beg for favors for her underscored served menials. Suitably the name Krishna left far behind in the struggle of life. Eventually he got rechristened to Mangtu.

He would still get quiver at the memory of bloodshed. Under the violent jerk of marauders the decrepit door had soon yielded off. For years the nightmares of rattling door would shiver him. The seven year old then, he was the only witness to the gory crime. But no one came forward to take note of his story.

Justice was a mirage to that violence infested land. In that part of world there were only two choices of survival. Either to join the violence with elusive civilian life or avoid it to face hunger. The place had been steadfastly turning into a land of no god.

After his bath, in front of stained piece of mirror Mangtu combed his hair. He put back it on dusty shelve. Taking out the nylon bag from the peg of rickety wall he counted the bundles of sell.  Twelve bundles of incense sticks a day sell would be suffice for his outlay.

Before stepping out he bowed to the pasted photographs of god and Goddesses. A gleam appeared in his eyes. With prayer infused strength he would walk the day. It  ensured him some luck and food.
“As he was taught in the ashram, whoever is born, Lord Vishnu – the sustainer of the world takes care of him.” Engrossed in his thoughts he exited off his bunged place and closed the rickety door behind.

Every morning he would sell the joy sticks before heading for ashram school. The supplies of joysticks he had been getting from the Ashram. The school an Ashranshala had been running for orphaned children of violence ravaged area under the rehabilitation plan of govt.

His village and neighboring areas had been witnessing the violence of Maoists verses administration since twenty years.

That day Mangtu, the scrawny one had walked about 10 kilometers for the sale. He reached the market area a bit early. The rural market was slowly awakening. The shops were being opened with the creaking removal of wooden planks.


Till then the few wheeled stalls were somehow staggered at different places. At the corner the wafting aroma of frying snacks had been trying to appeal the clintele. A man of the tea stall had frantically been fanning the coal hearth. After a while, a thin strip of smoke billowed out to it. The billowing smoke seemed to install the show of the day. Soon few people gathered near it. Mangtu spectacled the marketplace standing nears the corner’s eatery. The shop keepers were his regular customers.

While standing near the entrance, aroma of boiling tea rumbled the pang in his belly. He touched his coins in the bag. Those were hardly enough to cover his commute to Ashramshala. He walked towards the parking vehicles to take the trekker for school. There he would be provided the next stock of joy sticks and breakfast. In evening with Aaji he would have the dinner of thick chappatis.

Santosh with another lad of his village was there, in gaudy shirts and jeans. Both of them were orphaned children like him, but now they were gloating in blatant self-reliance. Wallowing in fast acquired confidence of easy bucks they walked to road side kiosk for  coke.

Mangtu, took a side seat and waited patiently for the commute. Finally in half an hour, folks poured in to board the vehicle. When it bulked with commuters it rambled ahead on the pock marked road. But a few yards ahead, it snarled and halted for few more travelers waiting alongside the dusty road. The commuters easily squeezed in between already stuffed vehicle. Then again it rattled and moved ahead.

At the Asramshala he would have the free breakfast of khichri to chill his hunger pang, he mused. Santosh with Manni sat beside him. He asked Mangtu “Are you going school for joy stick bundles, you don’t have anything better to do?” He nudged Manni with simper.

Flashing out his cell phone Santosh got busy in conversation.The lure of easy money had been trapping the teens and youths of the village, the rumors were abuzz around.

Youngsters were lured for easy money. Till last year these guys had been to the school. Since winter they hadn’t been to Ashramshala without any rationale. After a drive of twenty minutes the ramshackle jeep creaked and halted near a stall for gasoline. Both of them alighted to have a tobacco sachet, Mangtu turned his attention to other side.

Alighting off the jeep he walked for half an hour to reach the Asramshala.

For last two years Mangtu and other children had been relying on the food and vocation offered by the Asramshala. But the olders of the lot were evading the classes and prayer session on trivial excuses. Perhaps they were now being engaged in different chores. Flashing their gaudy shirts, and gizmos many of them were being spotted at the different places.

In past, many had been left the school unannounced, who knew-where did they head?
Like Mangtu, thousands of children in Thaneboli traverse long distances and turn up at Ashramsala under the hunger and lost childhood. But months or year later, a large number would disappear abruptly.

Like Mangtu many smaller children would be encouraged to join the school with the help of local NGO and government help for two years. But the rate of disappearance was gathering momentum. Now a day’s many of them were roaming around with hushed up rumors of better work and extra money, flashing the eye catching gizmos.

Dip in obscurity since independence the far flung Thaneboli had been in people memories for deadly battles between Maoists and police and then for the abysmally low literacy rate.
Were Thaneboli’s drops out going back to home, joining another school, or picking up arms? No one knew!

The fluid movements of children, in and out of the school were concern of none.

The ongoing strife has had a debilitating impact on the fallen illiteracy. It had been enhancing poverty rate in the entire region. Media and public attention on the conflicts’ failed to bear any result. To deal hapless violence schools had been turned into barracks by security forces. And others simply reduced to rubbles by the Maoists.


No one knew when the battle of twenty years would end by the spartan help of government or NGOs? Or will it be replaced by another insurgent faction which was taking shape to replace the older one. After all who had bothered to find out in the land of apathy?

Congrates!

“WILL I make it?” Rhea debated."
The corridor had been bustling with jean clad, tech savvy throngs. Most of them were trailing the corridor with peers. Their vibrant walks and discussions of infinite worlds had been vibrating the campus. The session had just been commenced.

Next class was after the recess of ten minutes. Thus Rhea chose a quiet corner to sit and to chalk more about her chances of triumph. But it was still a tiresome wait…

“My marks are good. I have studied in a planned way throughout the year. My GPA if not excellent but it is impressive.” She debated her chances of success.Her extracurricular activities- as debater, writing skill and creative extinct had always given her an edge. “Well, I can make it. I must be positive!”She assured herself.
She had called Mom in the morning and repeated her query. She had asked her, to pray for her. She knew she had already been doing it. But she repeated it out of nervousness.

Meanwhile, viewing her unsettled self, Mom had advised her to stay calm and accept whatever comes.
 But she wanted the sweet taste of success. “Success, she deserves, as she worked really hard for it. Will she make it, again the query rocked her.”

Ah, better to take refuge in spirituality, as she often advised by Mom to incorporate stillness for focus. To get rid of haunting query she composed herself..

 She decided to pray, “She will create stillness. In that created stillness she will plant her wish. She will pray to universe to support her wish and bless her.”With open eyes she prayed and planted her wish.”  What she exactly wanted to see, she chalked. Actually she had been waiting for the SMS from the premier institute as successful candidate, with congrates! She conjured her wish.

The shrillness of bell chimed in the air, she lifted her cell phone and earplug and  walked towards her classroom.
After her class, she checked her cell phone for message. “Today any time she can receive it.”

While walking she received a message,   “Hey result is out, I made it what about you? " Jaya. Her heart skipped, she stared at her cell phone and started fidgeting to it but in vain. Arjun just crossed her way. He shrieked, “Hey result is out.” She nodded in affirmation still fidgeting her gizmo. He watched her fiddle. Hurrying out his cell phone he said, “wait mine is black berry, I can connect fast, but let me see mine first.”  Rhea too engrossed in her cell, listened him quietly. “Hey Rhea, see it is yours.” she glanced at his screen.Her eyes gaped at flashing message, “congrates!”  She shrieked in delight. Yes, she did make it!