ROSES ALL THE WAY

In a show of solidarity with the love birds, this post celebrates Valentine's Day with some pictures of roses taken by me in the Rose Park!:-)))

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For the last so many days I've been reading fun articles in News Paper supplements about the days associated with the well spring of love and romance emanating from the heart's deepest nooks. Days deeply soaked in love got print space profusely. There was the Rose day and  the Propose day. Perhaps some other day which I might have missed, however, all have one thing in common the opportunity to express your precious emotions through flowers ,thoughtful gifts, romantic rendezvous, billet-doux and whatever stirs your emotions. Young people in flush of energy, enthusiasm and hormonal upsurge are planning to celebrate the gala Valentine's Day in their own special way. The shops and Malls are attired in festive looks and beckoning the young lovers to be there to purchase the goodies to  commemorate this day with their loved ones.

The gift of a bouquet of roses excites the heart and is the warmest embodiment of affection and passion. I as a fledgling photographer went to the Rose Park in our vicinity to click some pictures of the blooming roses in their dazzling splendor. I dedicate these pictures at the altar of this tender emotion on thes earth.

 
Friends, welcome here!:-)))

RAG PICKERS: ANOTHER FACE OF POVERTY

The other day in the afternoon, when mild sunshine could penetrate the cloud cover, I decided to step out for my routine walk. My destination is the park close by, which affords me virtually a goldmine of ideas. There in peace, I hold conversations with my inner self amidst the vibrant presence of flora and fauna. The meditative mental stance flows into  a stream of thoughts, correlations and images, which trigger the birth of several blog posts of mine. Sometimes by chance, the spectacle of some  distinctive characters passing by, kindle in me the desire to make them the subject matter of my posts. 

That day incidentally, when I looked around, a vivaciously moving foursome of women, across the  park railing on the road, in the midst of noisy chatting, instantly caught my attention. As they came nearer, it was easy to recognize them as rag pickers. They were carrying on their arms a large piece of sackcloth knotted on both ends hanging from their shoulders in the shape of a loose bag.  The observant in me got interested. I slowed down and waited.  

When they reached within hearing distance, I accosted them and jokingly asked them to pose for a picture. At first, they were reluctant and a little apprehensive but later they agreed, when assured that I would be writing about their condition. The smartest one asked me whether they should keep aside their bags. When I answered in the negative they were a bit dismayed, however, obliged happily for the above picture. Behind their begrimed faces, I noticed young and healthy skin. Two of them had large almond eyes, good features and lissome bodies. One was older than the other three and was pregnant. Her bump was visible from the sides, because of the narrow width of the shirt.

Afterwards they were chatty  with me, and informed me that they were rag pickers and live in tents near the railway station. Then I could piece together so many incidents repeatedly reported in the newspapers. There are other gypsy tribes too scattered here and there in groups engaged in criminal activities

These people live in organized groups. Their children indulge in begging at light points, market places and outside marriage halls. They commit petty crimes. At an opportune moment, they lift unattended luggage in minutes. The menfolk pick pockets and train children into picking purses and other valuables from car seats at light points when the unwary motorist is busy on the mobile amidst traffic din. The women continually pester visitors at prominent religious places for alms. The women allegedly fall prey to anti-social elements that roam about after dark. The police round them up after intense public pressure. However, they come out unscathed because of lousy investigation. After committing thefts or even heinous crimes, they move to another place and escape detection. They've no address.

The sorry saga continues unabated. The law-abiding citizens are the ones at the receiving end from these criminal segments of society.

What is the solution? Identifying and teaching them earning skills, which would slowly wean them away from life of ease and crime. Implementation of Govt. poverty alleviating schemes (too many on paper exist) and help from social organizations which have experts on board, can contribute immensely. It is a mammoth task and requires earnestness and visionary micro planning.

Friends, your views on the subject are welcome.

THE INSPIRATIONAL TROIKA

http://abcwednesday-mrsnesbitt.blogspot.in/
Linked to ABC Wednesday

The D words I vouch for:

While dwelling on D words, I thought of the ones that signify positivity, inspiration and motivation. My grey sells immediately caged the three powerful superheroes, which constitute the subject matter of this post. They are words, which carry in their bellies the seeds of larger concepts, meant to enhance the quality of our lives and promote happiness and wellness. In this category, I envision Discipline, Dedication and Devotion. They are affirmative boons for the conscious minds aware of the absurdities of our lives. If followed earnestly they are capable of transforming lives tremendously.

I consider discipline the key principle that has the genesis of positing unqualified success in our lives. The word discipline implies training the mind to follow certain rules to achieve  self-control. Everybody knows that without forming a set pattern for the daily activities of life, nothing can be accomplished. As a blogger I know many times uncomfortable decisions have to be made to  avoid frustration of a wasted  day. In the busyness of life, fixed time limit for  the writing activity has to be strictly adhered to. If that is disturbed, the whole day is messed up and feeling of guilt conscience sets in.

For a student discipline is of paramount importance if he or she aspires to achieve excellence in any field. Whatever field you have taken up for your profession, only a disciplined approach can bring results.

In the armed forces for example, only strict discipline keeps  men in fighting fit condition. In every sphere of life without a healthy routine, life becomes a slothful abyss and breeds inefficiency, complacency and procrastination. Discipline is another name for time management, which means accomplishing your goals on time, which ultimately boosts self-confidence and self-esteem. A disciplined mind is wary of impulsive actions, which can sometimes prove disastrous. Discipline helps in acquiring good habits, which gain spontaneity over time and lead to moral and mental development.

Dedication is the offspring of discipline. Without the one, the other cannot exist. Dedication is your full commitment to the task. It is single-minded approach to the task. It is akin to the concept of MINDFULNESS, which means total absorption even in the simplest of chores.  Dedication stands for the tenacity and staying power of the disciplined mind until the job is completed. Whichever duty we may assign to ourselves, only a wholehearted approach will fructify it. No dithering excuses invade the dedicated mind.

As parents, we can only instil right orientation among our children if we are practicing a dedicated approach to their upbringing. The duty of making them good citizens rests with us.

As teachers, we can play a significant role in the lives of pupils by promoting their interests by being dedicated teachers ourselves. Setting personal examples of committed attitude to work are essential.

Devotion is complementary to dedication. Devotion is a prayer like approach to work. It takes priority over everything also.  It adjoins absolute loyalty in word or deed to your spiritual principles. Devotion is an elixir for the mind. It teaches composure and steadfastness. It keeps you away from superficial rat race.The false trappings of life fall by the wayside for a devoted personality. It brings real success which endures.

  

All the three terms are interdependent and offshoots of the core of a holistic existence.  Human  beings are liable to commit mistakes. However, if we keep renewing our efforts to incorporate in our lives the three spiritual gems discussed above, we’ll be blessed with a more meaningful and fascinating journey.

Friends,Your thoughts on the D words are welcome.

ABC WEDNESDAY

The post is about the letter C.....

The letter ‘C’ conjures up so many word images. Some denote abstractions and some objectify.  Spontaneously the word Care takes center stage in my consciousness. Sweetly it has merged itself into the semantic parameters of our oceanic emotional reservoir. How a mother cares and nourishes her child to steer him into the right direction, to help him make something of his life and to imbibe in him wisdom and righteousness! We care for our parents and siblings and the people whom we respect and admire for their qualities of head and heart. Can we ignore the tender care given by a caregiver to an elderly person who is sick and unable to look after himself?

We care for our country and our patriotism comes to the fore, when something derails its upward movement. We are prepared to embrace dangers for upholding the integrity and sovereignty of our country. We care for the sacredness of our constitution, laws and regulations, which govern our lives.

There is another manifestation of our caring attitude, the way we care for our pets and love them like members of the family.

  'C' also brings into focus the immensely popular grain ‘Corn’ for its versatility, its fiber rich properties and its sunny looks.  Can you beat its taste in Corn tortillas, corn flakes, grill roasted corncob and baby corn embellishing healthy salad palette. Then there is frozen corn, steamed or sautéed, seasoned with mild spices and finely chopped onions and garnished with sprigs of fresh coriander. We all love munching  popcorn watching a movie at home or in the theater. In the west the milch cattle is fed corn for enhancing yield and to fowl for fattening.

  'Cute’ is a word used ad nauseam in polite conversations with numerous connotations. In fact, it is a word in fashion .  It signifies glamor. It is an abstract noun and a concept with a wide semantic field. Moreover, it has intriguing implications. A chubby rosy-cheeked baby is called cute so is an ordinary looking baby of a neighbor or of a friend  referred to likewise. You keep hearing  generalities like ‘cute looks,  cute dress,  cute garden, a patio  and the décor of a house can also be termed cute and  scores of other things on which this word marks its footprints.  Amusingly I recall a time, which is history now, when my hubby who has a generous heart otherwise, but used to  get choked if  ever he attempted to utter an endearing word for me,  had a slip of the tongue and called me cute once, in an unguarded moment of course.

A grave issue, which grabs headlines repeatedly, has association with the word ‘Cattle’.  I mean stray cattle menace in India.  Reams and reams of paper has been blackened to highlight the issue, but it rages on unabated. Imagine how frequently we confront helplessly and hopelessly the meandering cows and bulls in the middle of the inner roads or highways or them chewing cud sprawling on road berms. The number of road casualties and injuries due to this free for all is any body’s guess.

An amusing reference to this word just intruded the hemisphere of my grey cells that of a union minister referring to the economy class in air travelling as ‘cattle class.’ However, this unsavory phrase cost him his cabinet birth temporarily. And then who in our country the phrase’ dumb driven cattle’ is used for?  It is too insipid to be qualified here. You are welcome to hazard a guess. 

Bear with me for a passing reference to the word ‘Croon.’ I don the avatar of a bathroom crooner both in extreme winters and in humid summers. You know why?  To con shivering cold and stifling heat respectively. In winter I take up crooning my favorite song, "dunian me agar aye hain to jeena hi parega" etc. etc.  I croon like a broken record when I have to do the dumbest thing and to drown the outrage I automatically serenade "yeh zindgi usiki hai jo kisi ka ho gaya.” I know you know the rest.

 The beads of the C string are many and colorful but let the above suffice for now.

Friends,what do you think of this experience of mine?
images: courtesy Google

MANY FACES OF WOMEN

Whenever I go for my ritualistic walk in the forenoon, I'm privy to such common sights very often on the roads encircling my favorite park. The laws are lax and villagers use our roads as short cuts. A few days back somehow, I was inspired to click a particular twosome with their children in tow.

Our community which is known as 'Urban Estate' is carved out of  acres of uncultivated Govt. land and is sandwiched between villages inhabited by poor and lower class people with small holdings or daily wage earners- carpenters, masons, plumbers, iron smiths, gardeners et al. All sorts of handy men. Some small farmers by dint of hard work saved enough money, bought more land and acquired a new status of  being farmers. Over time, they've become economically strong and own all household gadgets, bikes and even cars. Their children go to English Schools in buses, wearing neat and clean uniforms and look much smarter than their parents.

Irrespective of caste and creed every one in these villages has progressed economically and also in social awareness, within a few years. The change is more apparent among women folk. Their eagerness to improve their lives is exemplary.They move out wearing clean clothes, hair in buns and washed faces.

Wives of many of the artisans and working class people in these villages work as maids and cooks in our community and earn handsome wages plus invaluable interaction with educated people and off days in between. Actually these maids call the shots and all try to help them with money and pieces of advice. In fact the demand for them outstrips the supply. They are smart and energetic, possess mobile phones, exchange  information with their mistresses in emergencies.

However, there is one segment, though  better than before, still lags behind in pro-activity. It is to this group that the above women seem to belong to. Their men, lazy and addicted to intoxicants- which are freely available- miss work days often because of recurrent illnesses  and remain cooped in their own unhealthy practices. They don't allow their wives to work out of ignorance. Hence they wallow in poverty. The women have to go to collect dry  fallen  twigs from the trees standing on both sides of the highway to cook food. After the back breaking exercise of couple of hours,  they stoically manage to feed  their brood.  Still they appear to be happy with their lot as I found one of them busy talking on the phone and smiling. Another thing which is conspicuous is that no man is ever seen carrying  such bundles.It is always a woman's prerogative.

I wonder why these women don't send their children to school even as education up-to middle school is free and compulsory. The reason obviously is parents' apathy. 

Friends, welcome to say something.

TO MOTHER WITH LOVE!

Mother's love is delicately layered, fragrantly pure and brightly hued like the petals of a perennial bloom! A humble tribute to the memory of my dear mother, whose death anniversary coincides with MAKAR SANSKRITI.

Makar Sanskriti (14^th January) is a religiously sacrosanct day. It stands for the first day of the month of Magh, the eleventh month according to Nanakshahi calendar. Magh symbolizes the cleansing process of the mind and body, devotion, charity and selfless service.

People flock to religious places to offer special prayers and listen to hymns and the name of the month from the lips of the priest. They take dips in ice-cold waters of the sacred water bodies including the ones on the premises of the religious places of their towns and cities. They wish each other happiness and good health for the days to come. Such is the holiness associated with 14 January, which falls on the next day after Lohri festival.

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For me the pious day carries the memories of a deeply felt loss. The passing away of my dear mother leaving me shattered, forlorn and orphaned. However, it also serves as a catalyst for commemorating her unique persona.  As the holy day dawns, I become conscious of the juxtaposition of an acute emotional vacuum together with the substantive feeling of her soothing presence floating lovingly around. My thoughts instinctively create a pathway of remembrances:  of her charm and steadfastness, unconditionality of her love, the privileged freedom to take her for granted, the foolish neglect to acknowledge her benevolent generosities, the occasional incivility to her in the foolhardiness of youth and the selfishness of childishly expecting whatever from her.

How grandly she bore it all!  While turning the pages of the book of memories my inner being resonates with a paradigm of images, though blurred but mirroring the myriad connotations of the purity of her soul. My heart contracts, cries, a lump gags the insides and hot tears come rushing down of their own accord. The questions raise their head inwardly as to why was she always selflessly toiling and looking after our needs, when many a time my siblings and I behaved like brats actually deserving reproach. Why did she always forgive and overlook numerous slips of the tongue and deviations on my part? When I recall   those moments, my mind strangely picks up the hazy pictures, my heart wrenches with unspeakable emotions, chokes and sheds silent tears.

How I envy mother’s fearlessness!  The strength of a steely character and a value system, which could overcome all obstacles, were innate to her. Her faith in the Almighty was unshakable. When I was young, often I’d hear her recite hymns in her sonorous voice creating an eerie mystical effect.

I imbibed the essence of her piety, and that has impregnated my being as an inheritance. Though far away somewhere in her heavenly abode, yet the sweet sensation of her protective fold lightens all sorrows. Her gentle and holy touch pervades my consciousness whenever I detach myself even momentarily from the hustle and bustle of daily living.  

My communication with her stays on an uninterrupted, unobtrusive, effortless zone. It floats forever. Unknowingly her soul merges imperceptibly with my interiority and anchors my life, guides me, listens to me and always stays close to me. Whenever life’s dilemmas had waylaid me and pulled me down, she responded to my silent prayers and instilled courage and confidence. My mind’s eye treasures the images of her beliefs, her pearls of homespun wisdom, not available anywhere anymore.

My heart fills with pride to realize how trusting she was considering present day unsound social alignments! True to herself, she never hesitated to speak her mind. Guarding her own interest above what is righteous was totally alien to her. Her simplicity is stuff for stories. Many expensive jewellery items she had, and never thought of wearing them herself and gifted all to her children.

Perhaps Mothers are like that!. Self-effacing, self-sacrificing and regal!

That the Almighty chose this hallowed day for her departure from this world--- was truly in consonance with the purity of her soul.

image courtesy: the internet. 

Friends, awaiting your thoughts on the subject.