Paper Quilling Ganesha

My Mother's contribution to my blog.

Mother and Daughter

Oil paint potrait of my favourite photograph

The New Parents

 

Medium: Oil paints

 

Paper tubes astonishing emergency architecture

A  couple  of  months back  I learnt  a  very   fascinating  use  of  newspaper . The  art  of  turning  newspaper  tubes  into  baskets . I  made  one  in   4  hours .  Started  the second  and procrastinated  till yesterday  to complete  it  .  The  finished  product looked  decent  despite the lack of symmetry.

 

 



 



I  marvelled at  the  sturdiness of   the newspaper  tubes  as  the  first  one  I made  six  months back survived   and   is  still  in  use .

 

 

 



The first one I made.

 

This made me wonder  how  many  useful   eco-friendly  things  could be  created  with  paper.  Let's  attribute  it   to the  Law of  Attraction , I found  a video that gave an astonishing insight  .   An  architect  who  created  Emergency  shelters  from  paper  tubes  in disaster  areas .  

 

 

 

 

Have  a  look  at  this  video  and  be  amazed. I am sure you would end  up  admiring  creativity  and  innovation   all over  again :). Hats off !!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





Flora from my backyard

Pastel version of a painting

Journey to the 'Dragon's Lair'

"When are you leaving ?"

"Tomorrow  evening ...didn't get leaves ...."

"Still you should have a look at the Dam and the Forte before you leave "

"Sure bro" I said unconvincingly very keen on my morning sleep.

" You should really walk beneath the dam in the tunnel ...I would arrange the permission from the authorities"

I looked at him blankly with  are- you -kidding- me- that- sounds- scary look .

It was August 2012  my niece's (my cousin's daughter) first birthday and there was  grand party at Jhansi where my cousin was  posted in administrative capacity.


The month of August and a nice drizzle added charm to a road trip to Jhansi which I thought would be nothing but drab. I tested my new Nokia lumia all along the way clicking pictures through the moving vehicle.

                                     

                     

         


                            

I was thrilled when the hills started appearing. My geography isn't bad but I had no clue that Jhansi had hills.
                     
                           

                               



But after the party when this conversation happened I was sure I was stepping no tunnel.

However we woke up early morning and it kept drizzling . A sweet intoxicating drizzle when you dream of steaming oil drenched pakoras.

I was informed that we will pass Babina which is a cantonment town and  has a air base of strategic importance(if I remember correctly). The storm and rain the night before  made a tree surrender and block the road. The army men and locals  rescued the trip.

 

We finally reached Sukhwan-Dukhwan dam . Oh ! did I mention the name earlier? So it was the guest house first and then a little stroll to the dam .



   


                                                       
















The gush of water was spectacular and the rain made the place look even more beautiful. I spotted a cable car.



 
                                                                       


















Then came in the part to step in the recommended place . The Sukhwan Dukhwan Dam Wein. I wasn't going !The howling of the water wasn't encouraging.

Then some sudden rush of a 'never before' enlightenment made me walk down the steps .



As I stepped down my heart pounded. It felt that down below that dark alley were imprisoned a hundred roaring dragons spitting out fire and would engulf any mortal.Or perhaps an army of Lions ready to tear you apart.

 Instead the last step brought a gush of very strong cold  water drenched air. The roaring waters drowned our excited voices and  I walked through the wein occasinally finding the courage to really peep down.

.

It felt like this strong therapy  ... wind mingled with a water spray and a sound that would drown your thoughts .

( Tried to upload my own video but some technical issues . So till I do that posting a youtube video to show what it's like.)

The water fell down beating the drums of eternity telling you that even if it feels scary sometimes a walk down the steps to a strange sounding tunnel could help you find something unexpectedly magnificent.

Homeless to Harvard

Homeless to Harvard..........Sounds like two different worlds connected by a bridge. I was just surfing for movies and was attracted by the title. It is a story of a homeless teenager who gets into Harvard! An incredible story of creating a destiny exactly opposite of what could have been.

What is even more incredible is that it's  a true story. Liz Murray (Elizabeth Murray) and her sister were born to parents who were drug addicts . Walking into the kitchen and witnessing her parents giving themselves shots with needles and blood splattered on the walls was a part of her upringing. Her mother once tried to sell her sister's coat to a drug dealer to procure coke. Liz was a brilliant student but she dropped out of school. Her mother had never gone to school as she ran away from home at an early age to escape her abusive father. Liz's life changed when her mother died of AIDS and she became homeless. She realised that she is going on the same path as her mother. She decides to go to school . Takes extra classes to complete four years of high school in two years. She is still homeless but she doesn't let the school know. She works to eat and sleeps on the subway. She is determined to change her life.

The turning point comes when she starts looking for scholarships to go to college and finds about the New York Times scholarship. She writes the essay and posts it one day before the last date. She is called for the interview and wins the scholarship.

Despite of all the hardships Liz Murray has no trace of bitterness towards her parents. She always loved her mother dearly and still does. Her story is beautiful and inspirational for a lot of us who are tied down by our tiny hardships.

Liz Murray graduated from Harvard. She is married and recently had her second child, a daughter she named after her mother. She has written a book ' Breaking Night' and is an inspirational speaker who  runs workshops to help people discover and construct better lives for themselves.

The drug dealer ,whom her mother tried to sell her sister's coat had refused to take it. He instead gave her mother a coin . Her mother had come home frustrated and threw away the coin. Liz kept the coin which had the serenity prayer inscribed  on it's back. She considers it a source of strength and a beautiful memory of her mother Jean Murray.

Creating Happiness

I am kind of filled with restless energy at the moment. I have to let it out and share. Random surfing on the net might sometimes land you on a Treasure Island. I found something that linked so well with a recent post of mine STAY CREATIVE. 

I was stumbling yesterday and I found this beautiful website called HIGH EXISTENCE. The first post I read was Titled The Simple Truth about Happiness. 

But haven't we read so many things about happiness already . Why did I click that post only ? It was 'cos the image in it showed a guy painting  the word CREATE on a white wall with bold red strokes. I was instantly attracted. What I read was marvelous and I was fascinated so much that I actually printed out the article and read it several times.

It talks about a simple truth we all experience. We pursue happiness and for that we learn all the tricks . To be open and more friendly. To take things in a good spirit. To live in the present moment and so on. But still we have days when we feel all torn and negative with our heads studded with thoughts of self-defeat. 

The author found a wonderful answer to the question that why are we not able to sustain the happy spirit on a daily basis when nothing is apparently wrong? 

He talks about Creating Vs Consuming. I was surprised that reading a book was an act of consumption. I always limited consumption to buying stuff like groceries , cosmetics , clothing and luxury items etc. But I realized reading of course is consuming someone else's creative work . It does not involve creating. I was again surprised that creating was not limited to painting,writing, sculpting and other forms of arts . Giving someone a compliment was also creating. Perhaps creating positive vibes for the other person. 

I would strongly recommend to read this post and work on WHATS YOUR CREATION VERSUS CONSUMPTION RATIO.

I would like to thank the author Max Nachamkin for writing this wonderful post.

For me I am already on the five day test and totally hooked to the Principle

"THE MORE YOU CREATE THE MORE YOU DESERVE TO CONSUME"

Masoom Shahar

I have  been downloading and watching sitcoms ( Canadian/ American/ British) for past one and a half years. They have become a very reliable source of entertainemnt for me. Providing the much needed rescue from remote control fights and forced feeding of 'Saas Baahu ' Drama. However watching something on the laptop means multitasking. The social networking sites and the chat apps taking away some moments of the sitcoms.

That day a friend suggested a children's movie , the full length of which was freely available on Youtube. I had watched the movie years ago  and the associated nostalgia drove me to finally watch it a few days later.

 KABHI PASS KABHI FAIL

The movie was "Kabhi Pass Kabhi Fail". The protagonist Robin is a happy-go-lucky , loved -by- all child living in a beautiful village in Goa. He is creative and playful but never scores in exams. One fine day he does a mathematical calculation mentally and his parents are taken aback. Slowly his talent and mathematical genius gains popularity in the village . He becomes the village genius. Then enters the villain ,his step uncle who schemes to use Robin's talent to make money. Robin gets caught up in his uncle's evil plans and eventually loses his mathematical magic due to sheer exhaustion and sadness.

It is a very beautiful story of discovery, loss and rediscovery . The child actor and his dog Coco have done such realistic work. The other cast has stalwarts like Deepti Naval and Naseeruddin Shah. Almost all the actors are recognizable as most have them have been on famous serials on TV.

I loved the storyline for it's simplicity and crispness. All characters have been played well and not a single shot deviates from the storyline. I was struck by nostalgia and enthralled by the simplicity of the movie once again.

MEHAK MIRZA

Then I stumbled upon another Children's Film " Mahek Mirza". Just clicked and was surprised to find a more recent and wonderful creation of the Children's Film society of India. It is a story of a girl who wants to excel in everything. when she runs for class President she dreams of becoming the first female President of India. However the reality is the exact opposite of her dreams. She loses . Still dreams. Loses some more. In the midst of dissapointents meets a 'Modern Fairy' who guides her towards finding her one true talent. One fine day Mehak loses the will to try again cos she doesn't  want to fail one more time.

 Again it is a very sweet, refreshing kid's tale with it's share of magical moments without the abra-ka-dabra. The child actors have  done a brilliant job. Specially the lead actor who played Mehak (Shreya Sharma).

LILKEE

The third one I watched was not as good as the other two but hit upon a topic of child labour. Lilki a garwali kid is taken to Mumbai to work  by a good-hearted couple who want to help her mother financially. She takes care of their baby and tries to adjust with the new surroundings. Develops friendship with the kids of the appartment who accept her after discarding her for being poor and a maid servant. It's over all a happy film which utilises a very burning topic but stays in a very secure surrounding. Focussing more on the mental state of Lilki who otherwise is among a very good lot of people.

I wonder what kids watch these days. But  watching these beautifully picturized simple tales based on  the innocence , inquistiveness  and creative potential of childhood was very heart warming. A respite from everyday unrest, violence, discontent, dishonesty , growing distances among people and surprisingly from multitasking. 

The First Breath

                                    

 Breathing is integral to our being. We inhale and exhale countless times without even  being aware. It is when it’s difficult to breath that we think about it. Being a doctor I know the physiological , biochemical and pathological intricacies of gaseous exchange ... functioning of the lungs and various respiratory diseases. However that is not where I want to go.

The words “Inspiration” and “expiration” are related to breathing  and have such deep meaning of life and death. Still this is not what I want to talk about. It is the first one of all the countless inspirations and expirations that fascinates me. The beautiful effort that first breath  demands . The significant first achievement of a nascent human being.

This phenomenon is intricately related to my everyday work.  I see them being born and I worry over there breathing and finally find solace when I can certify “cried immediately after birth”. Medical science has explanation regarding surface tension of air sacs (alveoli), about the origin of the substance called surfactant and a lot of things that makes it’s pretty explainable through physiological and biochemical aspects. All that however has failed to bring out the beauty of that first valiant effort and why it makes the newborn cry?

A little eccentric as I am ... I mused over it and tried to give it my own explanation... a little magical.. a little philosophical... and a little heart warming and enlightening.. I like to bask in that thought and I love the way it sounds ...

I nested that thought for a couple of years but I feel like sharing now...in the form of poetry...

A union of halves had occured

A brief journey had found its roots

Then a holy heart had suddenly flickered

Gradually  a consciousness emerged

In a sea of knowledge it  immersed..

It had sounds of the past ,present ,and future

A deep understanding of life and distant visions

The true understanding of the supreme creator

The serene sanct fluid totally soaked the creature

The maternal loving abode grew and nourished

The consciousness moved and kicked with vigour

The knowledge was still there dreaming unblemished

But it was time for another journey to trigger....

It was a sudden rush of pain and alarming contraction

The abode threatening to push the conciousness away

It was time and there was no escape no retraction

And suddenly the sea of knowledge gushed out of the window

The little being  felt the first touch of cold air

Suddenly abandoned by  the caring sea of enlightenment

The final bits threatening to gush out of its swelling chest

It could hold no more it was it’s final quest...

And a herculean effort pushed the fluid away

And the lungs were filled up with worldly air

And the newborn cried to it’s dismay...

Cos it was nascent again by the loss of wisdom

And it was the beginning of another journey .

 

Thus my crazy thought it’s the loss of the collective wisdom of the universe dissolved in the liquor surrounding a the growing fetus in the womb and its replacement by the worldly air of ignorance ; that makes the first cry. The deep awareness of the loss of all knowledge and beginning of a lifetime to gain it back.
  

Baingan (Brinjal) chicken style

This sunday I finally decided to try a Chicken curry recipe. The result was delicious. However I am not going to exactly share the chicken recipe cos I ended up doing a very interesting experiment.

The thing is that Mom and me are non-vegetarian but dad became a vegetarian a couple of years back. So whenever we cook a non-veg dish dad is kind of left out. The only fitting substitute has always been a nice Paneer dish. Today we were out of paneer. But I wanted to cook something equally nice for Dad . Brinjal( baingan) is my Dad's favourite vegetable and we have some growing right in our back yard.

So I decided to use the phenomenon of 'Transfer of learning' and cook brinjals exactly the way I went about with the chicken so that dad can enjoy the vegetarian version.

Since the vegetable came right out from my kitchen garden so I could cook them with the skin without worrying about chemical contamination. I sliced the brinjal's in longitudinal fashion and then marinated it with yoghurt (dahi) along with salt (small quantity as more would be added during cooking ),coriander(Dhaniya) powder , cumin (zeera) powder and garam masala. A little bit of powdered red chilly . After marination I left it in the freezer for approximately 30 minutes.

In the meantime I made a paste of a medium sized onion , few garlic cloves , ginger, two small tomatoes and  a green chilly.

The paste was cooked in a non-stick pan with olive oil ( use oil of your choice) and then the marinated brinjals were added. Salt to taste with meat masala was added and brinjals cooked on medium heat . 

The final result was a  mouth watering Chicken style baingan garnished and served.

Stay creative...

There was this conversation with a dear friend on phone . Recently married, she was narrating her experience with the change in life. Then the conversation turned to how marriage slows down a woman's career. She gave the example of another friend who has just stepped into motherhood .How she is dealing with the mental conflict of her sphere of influence shrinking down to the baby and the home chores complexed with the husband's lack of cooperation.

I  listened to her and said 'perhaps those professional women who have some creative outlet cope up better in such professional breaks. Creativity could be in general such a wonderful channelizer of all negative energy and frustration into something absolutely marvelous.'

I had slept over the thought  and perhaps would have forgotten about it completely had a fantastic article  not been shared on my FB wall.

Reading it I realized that even people who are creative face deep frustrating rejection of their work. This could perhaps blunt their creativity and make them give up.

 But a truly creative spirit turns the table around and makes a rejection a trigger for creating something awesome .

This is exactly  what two Irish designers Mark Shanley and Paddy Treacy  did by Turning worst client comments into Posters! (Click on the link and have a look at the posters ) . The posters were exhibited and they became so popular that within 5 days of exhibition they raised thousands of Euros and donated it to a Children's Hospital.

So hold on to whatever creative tools you posses you never know when it would turn your life around. Ok! if thats a bit exaggerating it might just turn around your mood or outlook . Not a bad deal at all!

Abode of all Penance: Naimisharanya

Moksha is the ultimate desire and destination. I wasn't looking for Moksha though . I was overcome by a simple desire of escaping the rut and see a place I haven't been before. It was back in summers of 2010.

 A few pics of that 'escape' caught my attention as I was browsing for something in my picture folder today.  I realized it is a unique place worth sharing. This again like my earlier post is a sacred place . Now I am not religious but mythology has always been very interesting.

Naimisharanya  is an ancient forest mentioned in the Mahabharata and the Shiv Purana. It is said that after the battle of Mahabharata sages and the wise men were very concerned  by the fact that Kal yug would arrive someday so they gathered and went to Brahma to leave a place sacred enough where Moksha could be attained even in the dark Kal Yug. Brahma spins a sacred wheel and says wherever the centre (Nami) of this wheel stops on earth it would be that sacred place. Sages follow the wheel and it stops in a forest which was named Namisharnya ( the forest where the centre fell). Thus it became the abode of penance.

This place harbors the exact spot where Ved Vyas sat and wrote and divided vedas into four main parts and created the puranas. It is named as Vyas Gaddi .

It was a bit unbelievable to witness the exact place where the source of all sacred knowledge in Hindu religion began. 

The second site was Chakrateerth i.e, the exact place where the Centre of Brahma's Chakra fell. It turned into a pond where one can wash away all his/her sins. It was circular pool of very contaminated ( as all sacred places capable of washing away sins have ) water . However it was a sight to see with people taking the holy dip oblivious and unmindful of anything else. I, of course, enjoyed it from a distance and moved away with a few pics and my sins intact :P. 

I also visited Hanumaan Gaddi and Pandav Kila and the temple with all the Avataars of lord Vishnu. I fail to find the pics and recollect any bit of information. 

There are a few pics of a giant Hawan kund we visited at Naimisharanya and performed a few rituals . The star shaped deep well for the Hawan agni (fire) and the high thatched canopy like  roof top with a hole to let out the Hawan smoke was captivating.

 The smoke rose from a perpetual Hawan Kund where the fire never dies and rose through the aperture to negotiate with the heavens.



(P.S .Well for those interested in religious and sacred places Naimisharnya aka Neemsaar is located on the banks of river Gomti in District Sitapur. To know more click on the link)

.

Weaving stories with words and gestures: Spoken word Poetry

Poetry has fascinated me since Igot introduced to it in school . I have made my amateur ,sometimes hesitant ,sometimes impulsive efforts to write poetry.

Theatre on the other hand  has fascinated me from a distance . The only performance I remember I was selected for was way back in school in the junior section kids play and my only dialogue was " Yes , Father."

That could have been my initiation into the world of theatre but unfortunately (read for me) someone in the extended family got married on the dates of the play and I ended up attending the wedding and missing the play. Well of course finding my replacement wouldn't have been difficult for the teacher. There ended my chances of acting . Anyways being the shy one it wasn't my calling ever .

However the potential of theatre to provide unmatchable avenues of self expression and  ability to reach out to a larger audience in an impactful way has been very admirable for me.

A couple of months ago I stumbled upon a TED talk by Sara Kay and was stuck.  Watching the video was amazing . I was hit by an explosion of words . The ideas flowed and enthralled me and the poetry found wings as it came straight from the heart .

 She introduced me to a wonderful form of self expression called spoken word poetry . In her words " My two loves poetry and theatre married and had a baby ".This baby i.e., spoken word poetry seemed so engrossing and exhilarating to me that I decided to share it on my blog and add two more videos .


The next video is a spoken word poetry by Katie Makkai entitled 'Pretty' . It makes a wonderful insight into the societal pressures of looking pretty and its effect on every girls development and psyche. A powerful piece of work enhanced by the way she narrates it. Love the last part of her poetry .

The last video I would share talks about the agony of a child who is different and is bullied for that. Shane Koyczan uses the power of spoken word poetry to bring that pain alive in front of his audience. He amalgamates spoken word poetry with animation in his project To this day calling for kids to stand up for themselves . Another one straight from the heart.

Spoken word poetry is definitely  a platform to brave and beautiful expression and helps  weave stories with words and gestures.

Do watch the videos . Enjoy :).

Stop making rapists at home !

I am a regular reader of the IHM's blog  " Life and Times of an Indian Homemaker". I came across a post on her blog titled Mera Tharki India : Can we have more such music please!  which was awesome .

I watched the music video on Youtube. As expected there were only 5000 and odd likes for the video while silly and obscene ones become viral in no time. Even though my blog doesn't have a great traffic yet I would repost this one here and share it in my limited sphere.

The  sexist item numbers camouflaged in catchy rhythms and music  are proliferating and I yearn for sensible lyrics . Songs that are not designed to demean  and malign 50 percent of the species and what more creating a competition among bollywood divas to dance to such tunes. Badmaash Babli !! what crap.

This video is a positive attempt to point out that rapists don't come from anywhere else they are nurtured and produced in our very own homes.

Mera Tharki India!!!

What should be the age limit for being called Juvenile?

Juvenile . This word had left me raging as it covered up for the 17 year old rapist of the Delhi gangrape case. The reports made it evident that he was the most brutal and perverted of them all and yet his age made him escape punishment.

Today I read about the verdict in the Steubenville rape case and in days I felt good. I am proud of the parents you stood by their daughter .

That said I am really worried about the word juvenile. While they are arguing over reducing the age of consent I am wondering about the age bar for being a juvenile. The Steubenville case was scary considering the complete lack of morality and humanity and was  stunning cos they were all teens . Though we can't dismiss it saying that happened in US . A recent gang rape case involving all juveniles (victim and the rapists included) makes it evident that Indian teens ain't far behind.

WHO defines child as every human being  who is below the age of 18 years ,unless under the law applicable majority is attained earlier. 

Children!!! I am rethinking over where to put the limit tag to think that innocence and purity of heart is still alive ... 

who is a juvenile??? I keep wondering still .

More than that I wonder to what limit are we pushing our children that they cross over the bridge without crossing the age.

I read this poem by W.H. Auden ' The shield of Achilles'  when I was 17 . These words had shook me then and now they almost sound like a prophecy.

                       A ragged urchin, aimless and alone, 

                          Loitered about that vacancy;

            a bird Flew up to safety from his well-aimed stone:

             That girls are raped, that two boys knife a third,

                                      Were axioms to him, 

                           who'd never heard Of any world

                              where promises were kept, 

                    Or one could weep because another wept. 

What do you think should be the age limit for being called juvenile??

Wee

As I brewed a 

cup of coffee

In a trance  

and

boiled milk for

two cups of tea.

I contemplated on 

celestial properties

Of a  ginger

(Influenced by Neruda’s piece on lemon)

And ironically crushed none

 in the tea..

I dipped the biscuits

Ate them all mushy..

rescuing them in time

from a plunge in the coffee..

Alone I mused 

over this 

Life of  little

rituals..

trapped unapologetically

in an unparalleled wee..