Soul mates

Both two legged, so different in size, but identical in spirit....

(photo by Kavi Arasu)
He , of course
always flies....
and she stands in their nest
and watches
the take offs and landings,
...sometimes
at dawn,
and sometimes
when stars appear.

This time,
he took her along,
flying,
but "swiftly"
across green
and brown,
bitumen black.

Late that evening,
they strolled
across the sand,
the waves
discreetly keeping their distance.

And the Sun,
lingering
on the horizon,
nudged
the monsoon cloud,
smiled,
and said ,
"What a cute couple on the beach, na ?".....

Confessions of a Flute Player

He stands playing His flute, amidst the roses, a large screen behind Him. His music , his innocence and his simplicity, make her Wordless .

(photo by Sagarika Chakraborty)

Sweet irony
as I stand
against something
that shows you the world
with a touch
of a finger
on a screen……

Life is sometimes brighter,
sometimes
the contrast in Life
as it was
and as it could be
is too much.

How much simpler to
enjoy my own
“piped”
music system
in a garden of roses;
and when my Ma,
Yashoda
wants to see the world,
I simply open my mouth……

The new generations in Uttaranchal

She was just Wordless in Uttaranchal (North India). Of course , it is entirely possible, if your cousins of old, do not speak your language.

Some words are inevitable. In Marathi and then in English.

(photo by Nupur Phatak)
उत्तरआंचलातील डोंगरातली
एक थंड सोनेरी सकाळ
आणि वनातले
वेल-बेबी क्लिनिक गजबजून जाते;
डॉक्टर दोन पायाचे आहेत,
हुशार आहेत,
पण भाषा वेगळी ,
आणि
काय सांगू तुम्हाला
आमची माया आईला सोडायला
अजिबात तयार नसते
शेजारचा लालू उड्या मारायला तयार
आणि आई त्याला रोकते …
फारच बेशिस्त आहे सगळीकडे …..
आमच्या वेळी असा न्हवतं हो ……..

A cool scintillating
morning
in the hills of Uttaranchal
and a crowded
Well baby clinic
happening
amidst
the sundappled woods.

The doctor is
good
but two legged,
and speaks a different language...

But what to do ?
Maya
simply
holds tight,
never leaves her mother,
and her neighbor,
Lalu,
just keeps on leaping
as his mother
tries to hold on
to her son
and his wild ways.....

Terrible terrible Indiscipline...
Things were so different,
in our time.

The Sky KalaSangeet Sammelan

She looked out from her balcony in Chennai and saw this. See here for some extraordinary sunset photos by UmaS.

Occasionally, you also see images and hear the music in the skies...

(photo by UmaS)
The Sky KalaSangeet Sammelan
normally
"on "
365 days a year
has some special
...days.

A Ghanshyaam Sundara Sridhara
celebrating
Arunoday at Dawn,
amidst jasmines,
cleaned copper skies
and sandalwood.



An Aakash Todi
as
man made Pushpaks
streak through the skies
during a hot day,
encountering a Megh here,
a Malhar there

And then late
evening
after
the chirping
of the birds
has died down,
the winds have stilled,
she comes out onto her balcony
to see and hear
a brilliant
Sunset Bhairavi
accompanied
by Zakir,
shaking his mop of hair
in sheer delight,
as he gestures
and acknowledges
a celestial dhun
being sung up there in the Skies....

A hi-tech farewell

Immersion of Ganpati on the 10th day of the Ganesh festival. Water Pollution, crowds, and the size of the idols have necessitated the use of cranes at some places like Hiranandani, Powai. A great set of photos including the one below, by Kavi may be seen here.

(photos by Kavi Arasu)

Memories
of being carried
by the father
of a house,
children
surging ahead
till waves
lap around their knees;
Mothers holding them back,
as the two venture
deeper,
Bappa clutched close,
and then
getting deep in,
letting go
as He becomes one
with the elements.





" I miss that "
He said,
"Stoic grandmas
ensuring that
the tiffin
wrapped in leaves,
goes with me,
children running
behind their dad
into the water.

Flying through the sky
is nothing new;
I do it all the time
without any hi-tech help.
A small child
with the cymbals
messing around with the beat
during arti
is such sweet music,
compared to
the high drone of the motor
as it whips up
and lifts up,
ready to dip me
at a suitable Deep spot.

They pollute in my name,
shout in my name
collect money in my name,
No wonder
the country
is in Deep trouble.....

Long and Winding....

More Kokan photos from this post by Kavi

(photo by Kavi Arasu)
The straight,
long
and winding road,
of life,
sometimes
elevated,
protected,
holding you in
from the ebb and flow;

It slides down
and turns away
momentarily
leftwards
exposing rocky doubts.




But that
sudden bay
is a refuge
for the infinite waves
that endlessly
otherwise
keep dashing
and eroding your
confidence.

A comfortable
wandering around of waves
high fiving the sand
on
a magically created
section of beach,
and the
palms and supari trees
look on indulgently
as your car
"swiftly" purrs
in satisfaction,
on the winding road,
once again
turning
to the right
to another bay
and another dance
of bobbing boats
on the waves.......

How to make profits and crash hopes......

I dont know where my friend Scribbler keeps wandering, but this wordlessness on a wednesday, left me wordless, initially. Then the cynic took over. In the face of constant transgressions happening as part of the preparations leading to the Commonwealth Games in Delhi.

(photo by Nupur Phatak)

When the mind
is corrupt
perceptions self destruct;

Planes for para jumping
swiped by politicians,
pools
for synchronised swimming
now,
in their personal
farmhouses,
and mannequins left over
from their
tenderless
buy 1 get 2 free
purchase order
issued
against rules
(What are those ?)
to a son.

What’s better than to
install
a pulleyed
sculpture
in the foyer
of
their
money spinning
private
Institute of Sports Management !

Three
hard working
athletes
supporting each other
but
looking down
into a crashing of hopes….
as
shameless
portly
political types
stuff one more sin
into their deep pockets.

A Pewter Sunset

Please read this post of Kavi's, to see some brilliant commentary and amazing photos of Konkan, the coastal beauty of Maharashtra. And this collection on FB.

The pale silver-gold in the photo reminds me of very old worship utensils, freshly cleaned . The metal was then so pure....and stayed that way always.

(photo by Kavi Arasu)
स्वच्छ घासलेले
थोडेसे पाण्याचे थेंब राहिलेले
जुन्या चांदीचे जड ताम्हन
घेउन
पृथ्वी जेव्हा
चमचमणारा ढगांचा पदर
दोन्ही खांद्यावर घेउन उभी राहते
तेव्हा
साक्षात सूर्य निरांजनात
उतरून समुद्राला ओवाळतो ......



A freshly scrubbed
old pewter
puja thali
at dusk,
dripping
the last drops of water,
held up in prayer
by a golden Earth,
the gilt edged clouds
decorating her sari pallu
lying primly
across
her shoulders.

The Sun,
cant help
but be the flame
in the puja lamp,
as
the earth
sings praises of the Ocean.....

Seasons of Life

She says , (actually, it's William Cullen Bryant, but she found the quotation ) that this is "Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile......"


Signs of the Start of Fall in the Seattle area ! From this post by Sylvia .



(photo by Sylvia Kirkwood)

Brilliant skies,
dew-fresh mornings,
fresh
yellow green leaves,
enjoying their first day
in the Kindergaarten woods.

Sunny Days,
a strong crowded green,
hanging out with the crowd,
overlooking the bay,
swinging in the breeze,
flirting in the rain,
its the Teenage Woods.



And then Life
starts
its health lessons,
some tough browning,
pale yellowing,
some angry reds
oranges,
clouds dark with
intention
of the imminent season,
its the Middle-aged woods.

It
happens to all
in nature,
a shedding
of the brown and gold,
shivering in Winter,
tough wood
seasoned by snow
and
conserving
of energy within.

The Senior Woods,
a time
to draw around you
a cloud cardigan,
a nip in the air,
a sudden ray of sunlight
and a great cup
of hot tea
with a friend....

Rarefied Heights

Another Seattle skyline visual from my friend Sylvia. See her post to see another photo taken from another angle....

(photo by Sylvia Kirkwood)
Like
a lady
dressed to the nines,
tiara-ed in silver,
high on heels,
drunk
on the rise
in their narrow world,
windows,
glass glistening
white
in the sun, they stand
at the skyline.

Unaware,
that
the sky,
the clouds,
the land
and minds
are richer
for the
colors of warmth
in a neighborly smile,
colors of shades
of green
on a hot day,
house windows
brushing aside branches
tickling them,
and
so many
black and brown
roofs
on white
picket fence houses
of unique
shapes and sizes
that make this world
a
wonderful
colorful place......

Upwardly mobile

~G in her wonderful Wordless Wednesday effort, posted this picture. Could be a Himalayan flower, from one of her recent treks. Just reminded me of something/someone one notices in public life.....


धावपळीच्या जगात ,
सगळेच कष्ट करत
आडव्या पडणार्या फांद्या
बाजूला सारून ,
आजू बाजूच्या छोट्या मंडळीना
हाताशी धरून
मोठे होतात,
निदान प्रयत्न करतात ;
पण
काही
आपल्या ला साजेशा
पेस्टेल साड्या गुंडाळून ,
डोक्यावर पदर घेतात,
आपली उच्च पदावरील जागा
पक्की करतात,
कारण
त्यांचे हात
कुठेतरी
वर
आधीच
पोचलेले असतात.......


Struggling
to find
a clearing,
in the jungle
that is their world,
they sift and search
through the
forests
of humanity,
picking up
some,
on whose shoulders,
they can grow,
BIG.

Yet
some,
pristine and chic
in their pastel
sarees,
head covered,
rise to
their
destined heights.

The high connections
and
upward reach
of their hands
cannot be denied....

Ganpati Bappa Morya

(photo by Kavi Arasu)

One hand
clutching
up the saree pleats,
the other
holding
wallets
pants,
shirts,
shorts,
tees and
towels,
she waits
behind this pair.




Father and son
wading into the sea
with Ganpati Bappa
bidding
Him goodbye
as
He starts off
on his return journey.

But like for Mumbaikars,
the Lord too,
suffers
from traffic
of debris,
dried flowers,
thermocole
and
plaster of paris
in anatomy,

Battling
the incoming waves
together with his images
large and small,
shaking His head
wondering
how to tell
that
more than
loud amplified stotras
songs of devotion
and
public dances,
a child
lisping
Ganpati Bappa Morya
eyeing the Modaks
and clapping
on his grandpa's lap
was
what he looked forward to....

Senior moments

Insignia posted various photos of her trips around Northern California on her blog . One of the San Francisco skyline, possibly taken from the East bay area, twanged a string somewhere. ( I have old links with N. California. I have family and very good friends and old roommates there, I studied in the UC system 40 years ago, and the state governors (Reagan then) were cutting budgets for education even then. Healthcare has become a very expensive thing for ordinary folks, and my own aging (here in India), makes me more aware of how things can be now......)


(photo by Insignia)
Upright
very
senior citizens
George and Henrietta
earlier of
the Bay area.
A bad health scare,
son's job scare
tangling
with Arnold***,
his budget cuts
for teachers.

Now,
out
for an organized
trip,
from their
assisted care
Senior Home
in Oakland.

Now a bit bent,
in Body,
down to the essentials,
hardy
and sturdy
for their age,
George turns
towards
a lost
and barely attentive
Henrietta,
smiles
and says,
"remember
that dinner
at Ghirardelli Square ?"****.

A Blank.
and
Bare.
Reply.

*** Arnold Schwarzenegger , (the old Tarzan), Governor of California
**** Ghirardelli Square : a fancy tourist place in San Francisco proper.

B(ee) School

Wordless Wednesday-ites are an eternal inspiration. Here's ~G with her wonderful hibiscus photo post . The red variety of this flower is Lord Ganesha's favourite flower, and we celebrate His festival here in a few days ....(the Lord doesnt discriminate between colors, although we tend to).

(We don't discriminate between languages, as you will notice.....)

edited to add :(photo by ~G's uncle, Mr Milind Deshpande, a young geologist and photographer, just recovering from a paralytic stroke. See comments. We wish him a wonderful and fast recovery...and more photos like this !)

दप्तरांचे ओझे सांभाळत
आईचा हात धरून
बुटाची नाडी अर्धवट बांधून
तो बस साठी धावतो ,
नको इतकी उंच पाहिरी चढतो
आणि
सुख-दुख्ख मिश्रीत स्मित करत
शाळेत जातो ....
ह्या भून्ग्यांच्या शाळेत
किती मजा !
आई आणि मुलगा
मजेत उडत बागेत जातात
काल गुलाब, परवा चाफा ,
आज जास्वंद
निवडतात ,
आणि
आई फुलाच्या कोप्र्यावर
चकरा मारते;
मुलगा बिचारा
मध प्यायला शिकतोय ,
आणि मधेच कोणी तरी
गणपतीबाप्पाच्या नावाने
फुल तोडायला आला तर ?

Lugging
a stuffed schoolbag
he drags behind his ma
clutching her hand
dragging his
unlaced shoes,
and then runs
to climb
bus steps
incommensurate
with his size.
School,
with an attitude
of resignation,
tinged with
sadness.

But
this
School for Bees
seems so much fun !

Mother and child,
flitting happily along,
spying
a rose here,
descending
on a champa there,
deciding
on classes
at the Hibiscus Academy....

And
the Mother Bee
guards the
perimeter,
traipsing
the petal edges,
watching her kid
learning to imbibe
the best
nectar
from the
flowers.

Its Ganpati festival time,
and she
must guard
against
someone plucking
her flower
in the
name of the Lord...........

Tirunelveli Mornings

UmaS , another member of the tribe that goes Wordless on Wednesdays, posted this wonderful picture taken during a drive from Nagercoil to Tirunelveli, in the southern edge of India.

Have a look at her blog, UmaS Reflections

(photo by Uma S)

Palm trees
and
areca nut trees,
crowded at the edge,
shoving and pushing
each other
out front,
for a better view.

They have stood waiting
through the night,
now in anticipation
of the morning sun,
climbing
the old hills
and troublesome clouds.

The sky curtain
parts,
and
the Sun throws
his welcome dialogue
at the
verdant green and golden
rice fields,
shrugging off the dew
ready to begin a new day,

A mild mountain breeze,
and
the palms nod in unision,
applauding
another great day
oustide Tirunelveli.

Straight roads , crooked minds

Another Wordless Wednesday by Nupur, eliciting a bilingual comment.

(photograph by Nupur Phatak)
सरळ,
नाका समोर बघत चालणारे
दर्शनी खूप आदर्श असतात .
पण ह्या घडण्यामागे
कुणा एकाचे वाकडे आयुष्य,
भरकटलेले मन,
लागलेले चटके,
आणि माफ करून शिस्त लावणारी आई असते .
पण
ह्या सरळ रेघेतल्या
रस्त्या मागे
कुणा गुणी शेतकर्याची जमीन
एखादी बुजवलेली विहीर
एखाद्या दलालाने आपला वाटा
बळकाउन उरलेले दिलेले पैसे
असतात.
आणि म्हणूनच पावसाचे पाणी
जमिनीत शिरून नवे कोंब फुटात नाहीत
नवी पालवी दिसत नाही
आणि
वेगात आलेली रिक्षा
न थांबता
बेदरकार पणे दूर गेली
तरी रस्ता असाच
ओला चेहरा दाखवत
रडत राहतो ...

Straight and Upright
Applauded for their
correctness,
they often mask
a wild
wilful
aimless life
full of dangerous turns,
all crooked,
cajoled into straightening
by
the untiring efforts
of a worried mother.

But
behind this
straight and bendless road
lies
the confiscated land
of a farmer,
a well,
its mouth
stuffed
close with earth,
and a measly compensation
for the land
after the middle man
has devoured his share.

And so
the pouring rain
on the barren concrete
germinates nothing,
discourages rebirth
and
as a ricksha
speeds away
without a backward glance
the road
looks on,
dazed,
and wet,
with tears..

Slices of Modern Life

Some folks take the strangest photos. And then they ask , "Tells a story. Or does it ? What say you ?".


Don't know about stories, but there seems to be a message.

(photo by Kavi Arasu from his album "General Slices")

Well set
and comfortable
she sat,
with a side glance
at the glowing screen;
...a sigh,
a deep breath,
and she turned away
just in time,
to see
the agitated one,
flapping his wings
and trying
to get
his message across to her.


"Guess what !
before this chap
logged out,
I just checked,
and he was
actually Twittering,
just like we did....
but ours
was more romantic,
na ?...."

Food memories.....

A great post on memories of Food by Vivek Patwardhan, as he despairs at today's Food Courts, elicited this comment from me.


(swing courtesy Google, human figures by me)

A creaking swing,
the smell of varan,
and ghee,
and
a freshly bathed
child
in soft mulmul,
leaning
on his mother's lap,
and
slurping dahi bhat,
crinkling
his eyes
and smiling
at the crunch
of the poha papad,
enjoying
his mother's song.
Something about Gods,
and birds,
and celebrating
the child's
wonderful Tomorrow.


Do we need
Bright lights
on the menu board,
uniformed sellers,
coupons,
counting
the money,
as well as
vada pieces
paratha sizes,
idli rounds,
and cc's of lassi....
all the while
the depressing microphone
blaring
All is Well,
Kal Ho na Ho.....?

Cloud Messengers

My friend ,Sylvia Kirkwood, posts great pictures of skies as part of the Sky Watch Friday. Occasionally , they lend themselves to some interesting interpretations (of political happenings ), particularly, something like the fuss being currently made over Pres Obama's religion and background... (the interpretation coming from someone from a country which almost specializes in the diversity of religions,languages, colors, and cultural customs).

President Obama is scheduled to come to India on a State visit this year .


(photo by Sylvia Kirkwood)

Some dark,
some light,
many black and white,
some
all mixed up and grey;
The blue
of a peaceful sky
bears all these
and more.

Occasionally,
an ill wind,
passes by
snidely nudging
them
about where
they come from.

And the Sun,
the
only shining constant
ducks
through a cloud,
winks at another one,
saying,
so many countries,
so many seas,
so many rivers,
so much evaporation,
thanks to me.....

Regardless of
what religion
and color the water was,
they
are just
great big lumps
of pure
altruistic
water vapour
bringing
shade, and rain
as they wander and stop
across countries,
in their journey through life ......

Leap of Understanding....

NU, with her Wordless Wednesdays, makes you truly wordless with this.

There are lot of these folks, where I live. And I have always wondered what they thought about their biped cousins.

Comment on Nu's post, first in Marathi, then in English.....

(photo by Nupur Phatak)

मधूनच पोट खाजवत ,
आंब्याची चव घेत
“लागलेली” फळं खाली फेकत ,
क्षणभर बत्तीशी दाखवत,
ती वर बघते …

बेधुंद फांद्यावरून उड्या मारत
न ऐकणारी ती दोघं,
मस्तीत गुल….

मग ,
एक मोठ्या भावा सारखा
दिसणारा, पण नसणारा ,
दोन पायावर चालणारा
कुर्हाड घेउन आला
झाडावर जीवघेणा घाव घालायला
आणि
न ऐकणारी ती दोघं,
आयुष्यातली
सर्वात मोठी उडी घेउन ,
गडबडीने,
घाबरून,
आईच्या पदराखाली धावली ….

आंबे बाजूला सारून ,
मान हलवत
एक मोठा श्वास घेत
ती म्हणाली ,
“तरी मी म्हणत होते ,
आजकाल झाडांचं काही खरं नाही ,
ही आजकालची मुलं, ना ,
अगदी ऐकत नाहीत …”

Active scratching
on
a Simian stomach,
she sits,
peeling
and checking mangoes,
throwing aside
those
with a spot
of dark doubt....

An upward
indulgant
glance,
at
her defiant little ones
in a wild game
swinging
across branches....

Unseen,
someone,
like them,
almost ,
but not really,
a brother,
but
on two legs,
approaches
their tree,
with an axe,
raised to hit....

And
her defiant little ones,
suddenly aware,
take
the biggest leap
of their life,
straight
into the folds,
safe,
into their mother's arms...

She shoves aside
the mangoes,
gathers her brood,
shakes her head
in sorrow.

A deep sigh
in sorrow,
" Kids !
they
never listen,
these days....
You
can never tell
about
endangered trees,
these days,
can you ?....."