Attention

 

If you have managed to look at the same thing and notice one or two things differently, then you are paying attention. But then, it is not in a very critical or objective way; perhaps, more in a creative soft way. Like observing and thinking through your heart rather than through your brain. 

Case in Point: When driving back from the beach, the gigantic strong trees bearing the slender climbers that were swaying to the passing vehicles got me distracted to look up slightly. And then, I noticed how the entire Besant avenue had overarching trees that met atop, and crowding the air space so much that you hardly notice the blue sky.

~ 07 Jun 25

Adrift

 

How is it that things afloat on the sea, always move towards the north. It is the same with humans. We start at a point in the beach and end up further away, northside from where we left our belongings.

~ 07 Jun 25

Kid Dog

 

Stationed on the beach sand, 

the insecure kid-dog yelped 

desperately at its human parents 

who were out on the beach, 

wanting to enjoy the sea. 

Pets, especially dogs, are always lovable because of this innocent mutual emotion that is etched in them, till their last breath.

~ 07 Jun 25

Oracle

 

Every parent must become the ‘oracle’ (of Delphi or of Matrix fame, I mean) that their kids want to go to. 

Everyone needs an oracle or oracles. You will need to believe that they will have the answers. They can also be books, the god, or your own self.

~ 07 Jun 25

Clarity

 

She spoke with such clarity; those words were like the thoughts she had written it down earlier, for herself, for no particular reason.

~ 22 Jul 25

Crow’s Nest

 

I have seen a crow’s nest, pretty much a bare one, but have never seen a crow resting in its nest. Given how hyperactive a crow usually is, at least in the daytime, I have hardly ever imagined a crow in its nest! Of course, I've seen a bird and the birdlings in paintings, with all the babies' mouths wide open. But nothing so far in real time. And obviously, I need to be living on trees to see the entire family, which is not going to happen any sooner.

So, I saw its highness today, when I was at the Anna Centenary library with my seat overlooking a moderately grown neem tree. It was indeed a spectacle to see the busy crow sit still. I was not too sure if there were any eggs in the nest. But yeah, the crow was trying hard to snuggle itself in its nest. And as expected, it disappeared into its busy world after a while. I had to wait for a really long time to get a pic of the crow in its home, and then had to give up! I guess, because it got too busy during lunch time… I meant for humankind. Funny me!

~02 Jun 25

Intelligence and Obedience

 

Me thinks: Intelligence cannot be bundled as common sense, unless the person has suffered, or been there. 

Context: We tell our kids so many things that we've learnt after we've suffered and that which has become common sense to us. But expecting them to take that as common sense and expecting godspeed is unfortunately unrealistic. The paradox is that this intelligence has still not become common sense to me!

Serendipity or coincidence: In today's A Word A Day series from Anu Garg, in the thought for the today, he's mentioned George Orwell (from the book 1984), because it was his birthday on 25Jun25: 

OBEDIENCE IS NOT ENOUGH. Unless he is suffering, how can you be sure that he is obeying your will and not his own?

~26June26

Sleep Game

 

Feeling sleepy and tired for no particular reason need not be an indication of depression; it could be just anemia. And can be balanced by proper nutrition, hydration, and exercise. Here, exercise can be replaced by physical movement. And when it is done with some fun, like a sport, and with some purpose, it is a real game changer.

~ 25May25

Relationship Advice

You may come across people who like the same things as you do. 

But don't be misled into taking that for being like-minded. 

It can lead to a lot of miscommunication.

~ 12 Apr 2025

Conversations with Someone and Self

 

Dear someone,

I wonder why I say so much

Am I starved or are you delicious

Are you therapeutic or do I need attention, 

or maybe, I wanted to just talk to someone

Why should I know, I wonder…

I think of the merit in the friendship

Or what if after sometime I discover

That our core values don't match 

And regret having wasted time of both

Or disclosed too much

Would I have said so much

If you were of the other gender

If you were not light skinned

If you did not look pleasant

If I didn't have the luxury of 

both your time and my time

Why am I so analytical about it

Am I impatient, seeking sympathy, 

or asking for answers

Along the way, I also wonder about intentions

For that matter, everyone's intentions, and

the process of making friends…

Is my process flawed?

I go back to my past with guilt 

of picking friends with benefits 

But everyone does, don't they?

Well, let's see what it takes…

When we are young, 

we like our acquaintances for some odd reasons

We do a lot of talking, goofing around, 

and doing things together, in repetition, day after day

We hardly notice that it has been unfolding, 

all the while, unawares

And, like magic… friends just happen

Later on, it's friends for life, if it stands the test of time.

We may get to notice the flaws, but don't mind them, 

or work around it

When we are in midlife,

We rush past our lives and attend only to priorities

We give no space for the magic to happen

We hardly have the time to talk to the someones

We are also afraid, and wary of getting hurt

We don't make an attempt in the fear of shame, 

or the suffering of betrayal or of losing them

Or, are too self-absorbed in our mundane lives

So what do we do…

When the setting to make friends is unfamiliar 

or the setting is completely lost or absent

When our conscious self is adept

at noticing the other's  interests, problems, values, views

And it dwells on likes and prejudices,

making the space between the two to dissolve or increase

And only wants to flock with the ones of the same feather 

So, it's ok, if all of it does not align

It helps to be aware that there are different ways 

of getting to know people

And works well if we are open to experiences

It's ok to have conversations with the someones…

As long as we are kind to each other 

and know that we want nothing from the other

So, let's let our guard down as many times 

as we had to pull them up in the past 

And for as many times, when there's a chance 

for light to shine on our life which at times runs pale

for there is nothing to lose in this transient realm 

for there's no sure way to know more of the someones

Inside us and otherwise.

~ 04Jun25 to 03Jul25

And then what?

Not being pessimistic, but

things did come into perspective

When I was living my days 

through questions of overwhelm,

and self-doubt, and I asked myself: 

and, then what?

I have to mention, 

my life got much simpler.

In fact, it has ever been so,

after I started asking:

yeah, so what?

Note to Self: 

Later, I realized why the question ‘And, Then What’ made so much sense. It is a modified, short-term, immediate version of death or impermanence meditation (aka Tryambakam Mantra). Of which, apparently, I seem not to have understood the practicality of it, though I have been reciting it often. In other words, I knew the meaning that death is inevitable and when death comes I need to accept it without resistance because that is the way of life. However, I did not know how to apply, or when to apply, and on what to apply.

Accepting death of self is fine, of others is to an extent fine. And death is a grave concept, and is also not something that we experience in our everyday lives. But then there is grief along with death, which is not attachment per se; grief is a human aspect, like how to love is to be human. To deal with grief is somehow greater than dealing with the concept of death or detachment. Somehow, even though we have conceptualised death very well, or say that we need to imagine or remember it so as to prepare for it, when it comes to dealing with death and grief practically, the gap is too huge. Unless one goes through it, there is no way to get acquainted with it. Anyways...

Death aside, there are greater aspects of detachment that one needs to be acquainted with, in everyday life. The obvious ones such as material detachment are easy to deal with; but the unusual suspects that you get attached to unawares is the problem area. These are aspects such as people, habits, and places. That is where the ‘And, then what’ question helped me. For example, if we do so, then what... And then, after a few months, will it matter at all? Are you going to feel the same way after a year?

~ 05Jun25

Omane from Aadujeevitham

 

Note: the song is best experienced using headphones.

A disclaimer: I know it's a tad too late to write about the song, maybe, I am a year late. But given my confidence in its longevity, it's just delayed justice. It's a classic and needs no further explanation.

The song begins with a curious BGM and continues for most part of the song, guiding the song like the rail for the train. Through the entire song, it moves like water gently folding and making progression towards a destination it's sure of. And in just a few seconds, Chinmayi is almost speaking out the verses in monotone. She starts off singing like a person wandering in the woods, singing their favourite song so softly, and they are like a teaser or a precursor trying to convey about what's to come. 

In the background, you can faintly hear the santoor, cello, violin, and tabla playing shyly and humbly like they are being introduced to the audience who are to listen to an epic of a song. 

And then again, Chinmayi sings the same verses in a way that sounds like someone saying, ‘I repeat…’. By now, all the instruments are playing their notes in a beautiful flow.

Just when we think we are getting used to the song, Vijay Jesudas  comes in, with his first cameo act. He sings with so much emotion, a contrast to Chinmayi’s monotony in the beginning verses. Now the song is cruising ahead, like the train that's steadying and in full swing, on autopilot. And Chinmayi goes ahead with her part in full prowess. You cannot stop wondering about what to notice: her voice, inflections, or the way she effortlessly delivers the complex Malayalam lyrics. 

A note about the lyrics: I bet you cannot sing along, even after multiple attempts, and strategies such as listening to it a hundred times may help. I suppose you don't have to bother so much if your native language is Malayalam. This is in contrast to songs like Malare that have simpler and listener-friendly words. I've tried all means: to listen to it by paying full attention, sometimes by letting it play in the background, sometimes by understanding the lyrics, sometimes by reading it without the song, and trying to read the lyrics and sing along. Anyways, with respect to the sweetness of the song, somehow, I liked listening to the Telugu version best after the Malayalam version. Tamil, Kannada, and Hindi were ok.

So, back to Chinmayi. I've missed her so much since the likes of Kannathil, Enna Idhu, Zehanazeeb, and Titli, that now it's come to the point of not recognizing her voice. Of course, I was too preoccupied with my life. I must be… because even for me to be dazed in the voice of Kadhale from 96, it took quite a while! Obviously, Chinmayi is absolutely amazing. Add to the list of missing things in my life, and tending to the point of forgetting: the genius that Rahman is. This song compensates for everything.

Back to the song… by now, the first quarter of the song is done, which is almost like a teaser to the song. And, in the middle of the song comes a breather in the form of a chorus that sings carnatic, folk, and hindustani, followed by a qawwali. All blend together and one after the other in the middle portion of the song. The highlight of the qawwali is that it's sung not in the usual high-pitched rustic male voice, but in a cooing light-weight female voice, and that's something unusual yet amazing. The entire song sounds like it has a different structure because of this chorus. 

So, there's not a quiet moment in the song, like in most songs where the instruments play for a bit. The only time you can hear just the music is in the ending.

At this point, it's worth mentioning about the transitions: though there are a lot of times where the song changes hands, like Chinmayi handing it over to Vijay Yesudas, and back to her, and again from her to the chorus. Even until this point, there is no trace of transition elements, and yet the song goes on so smoothly. The best part comes when the song transitions from chorus to the qawwali bit. This is certainly the proof of inventiveness of ‘the’ Rahman: with just a half second of tabla playing, the song completely changes mood, with only the tabla and harmonium playing in the background. And the next transition is from qawwali to Chinmayi. Now the curious BGM comes to rescue, and we have no trouble getting back to square one with how Chinmayi started off. The penultimate transition is from Vijay Yesudas to Chinmayi, and that's rather abrupt: when he goes off on high-pitch, Chinmayi takes over the reins in a very unwelcome manner. But we can hardly think of it as rudeness. It is sweet, because she is on a mission: to safely steer, what started to look like a catamaran when the song started off, and that has now turned into a huge gigantic titanic.

So, in the last quarter, the instruments play along with singers, with the assertive authority of someone who's got the hang of the song. What played very tentatively in the beginning, like seeking permission, now plays in a very sure-footed manner. Both the singers sing like they are traversing through a familiar terrain, a known territory with the support of the instruments. 

And in the end, when the mood changes to we bidding farewell, the music slows down like they are applying the brakes to a giant juggernaut, and ending on a rather melancholic note. By now, we experience that we've travelled through the life of a great long-winding epic.

~ 16Mar2025

Reading The Authenticity Project

 

Getting started

I placed an online order of the book The Authenticity Project by Clare Pooley sometime in Jan 2023. During the few days I was waiting for the book to arrive, I had exclaimed to C that the only imagery that came by when I thought about the book was me gently and lovingly dropping on the bed with the book in both my arms. And reading it to my heart’s content. Like it was a real person!

That was how much I was excited by the book; of course I did not know what the book was about and chanced upon it by recommendations from somewhere, and the convincing point for me to buy it was Sophie Kinsella’s take on the book. So… the imagery of me lying on the bed with the book could be because I was going to read a fiction book after a long time: not the serious ones along the lines of The Kite Runner or The Good Earth, but the light-hearted ones. Speaking of that category, I've loved reading Sophie Kinsella's books, and was even more delighted that she had written a praise for this book.

Forgotten 

I guess by the end of the first quarter of 2023, after dad's death-facing episode, I kinda lost touch with the book. Add to it the table tennis rigor and other distractions associated with it, new books (Five Regrets of the Dying and so on), dad's death, mom's cancer treatment, and new school for the boys. So, it was basically a perfect sabotage to make me completely forget about the book, as well as the whatever little flow that I had in my life.

Getting back

I hardly remember why I got back to the book. Perhaps, I chanced upon the book after I rearranged my so-called library because mom had come back after six months of staying away at M's place owing to chemo treatment. And add to it my memory of the fondness with which I held the book the first time and started reading it.

The feeling

With any book that I am reading, I mostly rely on the bookmark to pick where I had left, and I've never had difficulties picking up the context, even if I was coming back after a week or so. But then, they were all non-fiction. With this one, when I started reading from the page where I placed the bookmark, I could hardly remember why all the characters in the book were together in one place. So, I went back one chapter. Nope. Absolutely blank!

I knew all of them in the book, their back story, but then, was completely agnostic of where they are in their lives. I flipped back a few more pages and skipped a few more chapters back in time. And then, I completely gave it up. I felt like I had amnesia, not of self but of other people's lives. So, I decided that instead of being so unsure I might as well start from the beginning. So almost 270 pages of reading went in vain! I was like, me getting hooked to a book is like a rare phenomenon, and now this!

With the number of ‘work in progress’ books, I wonder how many times I am going to have to feel this way in my life…

~24Feb2025

Understanding People

 

A child is born out of the labour of love is a mix of chromosomes from both sides. Extending this physical phenomena over to the psychological concept of love: the love for a person is not just singularly because of the person being loved; it is in actual your perception of who they are, which is an interpretation of their personality by means of who you are or how you see them. So, you are in love with yourself and the other person, together, when you say you are in love with the other person.

And when it comes to understanding people, there are two sides to it: your side and theirs. There is their side of looking at you, and the reaction, both yours and theirs.

So, at any point in time, it is just a partial understanding between the two that drives the relationship. A partial understanding of who you are, who you are to them, and add to it a partial understanding of who they are to you.

And at any point in time, it is an imagined reality of the other person and their actions. Thanks to Ben Okri for articulating this so well, as well as the buddhist thoughts and concepts of what reality is.

Hence, there is never a complete understanding at any point in time; and it would take years, for even completely conscious beings who have this understanding of how fragile their understanding of each other can be, to be able to correlate each other’s actions. And add to it the effort it takes to come to terms with the other person's idiosyncrasies and shortcomings. That is indeed a lot of time!

So, if the person accepts or rejects or denies another person’s love, it is not entirely because of them or you; there is equal contribution from you and them.

~16 Feb 2025

List - After a long time!

 

Grounded, uninterrupted, blissful solitude, morning rain, piano in the background, the snuggle of the pet and its soft breath on my skin, chirping birds, panoramic terrace view, wet red tiles, occasional writing, reading, mind-wandering, photographing, connecting…

~ 13 Jul 2024

Mistakes, Purpose, and Grace

 

Grace means that all your mistakes now serve a purpose instead of serving shame.

~ Brené Brown

Usually, we feel shame or beat ourselves over the mistakes that we've realised as mistakes. Say for example, the parenting mistakes that we make and realise, through cause and effect as well as exploration. If we are courageous enough, we make sure that we (re)learn the right way, change our ways, and act accordingly. And when we tell and help other parents in need, by way of communicating effectively to not do the same mistakes we did, then there's purpose and gracefulness in that act; even if the acts of ignorance were shameful, when we act with the purpose of relearning and sharing what we know, there is grace in it.

~ 15Jun24

Being Pencils

[This, I am writing with a 0.9 mm lead microtip pencil. Well, it would not really be a 'microtip' in its truest sense. It is a mechanical pencil. No need to sharp the pencil and no breaking of the lead because of the additional pressure that we may be applying because of lack of practice or the knack of using a microtip pencil. So, 0.9 mm is a good idea!]

We must be pencils, really... not pens.

Or rather... Aren't we better off, if we think of ourselves as the pencils that we used to write with when we were kids? Perhaps, we get too arrogant instead of the real reason for switching to a pen: being confident with spelling and writing.

With the pen, there is also the expectation that we ought not make mistakes. And beat ourselves too much over our mistakes; be judged by the rest or at least think we are being judged, while everyone makes the same mistakes of not getting it right every time.

Unless you are an open book (a pen that has a transparent body), we are never going to know, or let others know so they can tell you when you are running out of life. Unlike with a pencil, we really know what's happening to us, and when it is the end of life.

And since there's a steady flow of ink (basic trait of a pen), we think of it as a permanent state and never are prepared enough when we or the rest of us run out. But like with the pencil, we never must be, or can't be comfortable with our current state of affairs. Getting blunt is permanent: we just cannot sail through with what we know; else we get stale.

We must be really self-aware, and need to sharpen our saw, so as to be in the game for the long run. And it gets evident or shows up to the world when we are getting stagnated (the pencil getting blunt). Since we keep sharpening ourselves after realization, and since the cycle repeats until our end of life, it becomes a habit. The act of how to stay sharp and that we ought to stay sharp so that we are relevant and serve the purpose of our existence becomes ingrained in us, that it stays as part of the muscle memory. So, we get very efficient with the 'live-die-repeat' way of life. 

In addition, at times, the sharpening tool may be an external help; this serves as a reminder that we must stay humble and value the dear ones or even the ones that hurt us, who help us in the act of staying sharp. We cannot get everything done by ourselves. And, at times, too much in-dependency can create difficulties in terms of giving and receiving love.

And when accidents happen (like the breaking of the lead), we pick ourselves up, start again, sharpen, and run. But with the pen, when accidents happen (like when the pen tip malfunctions owing to a crash), it is usually the end of life even though you have a tank loaded with a good shade of ink.

And there are mundane things like even with a pen that has a full body of ink, if kept unused (the brain that is inactive), the ink goes dry and makes the pen not of much use. Unlike the case of a pen, the pencil is always ever-ready to be put to use.

And we know that with an eraser around, we can always stay corrected. So, there's scope for humbleness. Of course, there are correction pens for a pen to stay corrected, but hardly have I seen so many correction pens around, for the various types of pens.

Now, I guess that's enough reasons for us to be and stay as much as a pencil can be, instead of being the mighty pen!

~ March 07, 2024 - 24 min

Compassion and Joy

 

Today, I was at the supermarket picking vegetables and fruits for the week ahead. Among the few of them at the place, there was a really old granny who was also doing her veggie picking. She was accompanied by another old person who was relatively active for her age, and helping her with the buying process. 

At a point in time, I was a feet or so away from her. A moment had come when I had turned to notice her, and she was trying really very hard to bend down to deposit the cauliflower that she had picked, into her basket on the floor. Involuntarily, I reached out to her wrinkled hand, gently took the cauliflower from her, and placed it in her basket. She was obviously surprised by this act and even more surprised to notice that it was not one of the shop's staff who had helped her.

Of course she did not ask for help. Maybe, it could have turned out to be a bad experience for me for being vulnerable: for having taken the risk of offering her my help. In all possibilities, the granny could have been of the kind who gets offended by the fact that someone had doubted her capabilities. Thankfully, that was not the case. She was quick to notice what I just did and thanked me from the bottom of her heart. I accepted her thanks by smiling at her warmly, and moved on.

A few minutes passed by. Now, I was almost crouching to pick fruits from a crate that was placed on the floor. I was too engrossed because I was carefully checking if the fruits were free from insects. Just a few seconds into this act, I noticed someone stooping down to my level and speak to me in the gentlest of the voices I've heard anyone speak to me ever. It was the same old granny asking me to help her pick fruits from the same crate.

I was overwhelming with joy and was moved by the fact that she had welcomed my help in the first act and has now come back to me to take more help without hesitation.

I gladly helped her, and yet again accepted her thanks as well as her blessing that the God bless me abundantly!

~ 07 Oct 2023

Mood

 

Today the mood was a complete wash out. No mending it at the end of day for its shortfall. No adjustments whatsoever. When you prepare a dish, you check and adjust its taste for salt and pepper. Today the dish was being fixed and was meant for the bin.

~ 11 Jan , 2022

The Ticking Clocks

 

There are many things to be afraid of. The impending death of a loved one, harsh words in return for a noble and innocent deed, scratch on a car owing to a misjudgement. But ticking of clocks in a room full of light? In hindsight, today the two clocks ticking in unison didn't bother much. But yesterday, they moved one after another. It ticked at the pace of a throbbing heart. Every pair of tick-tock was like someone jabbing the head when there was a migraine.

~ Nov 12, 2021