Lilly learnings लिलाताईंची शिकवण.

My friend Shubhangi Joshi of Pandharpur  clearly has a green thumb , and a garden full of a huge variety of flowers, fruits  and vegetables.  She occasionally posts photographs of these. One such , was of the lilies, or Spider lilies as they are called by mean folks.

In today's world of heroes ad heroines, it is sometimes the underdog that one finds interesting.

The Lily. Or Lilatai, as I choose to call her.  Was one such.

And a poem happened. First in Marathi and then in English.  As below .

photo credit : Shubhangi Joshi

लीलाताई, माहेरच्या हायमेनोकॅलीस स्पेकिओसा . मूळचे लोक वेस्ट ईंडीझचे. पण क्रिकेट च्या बरोबर भारतात प्रवेश.  विशेष म्हणजे आज काहींचे पंढरपुरात वास्तव्य. आयुष्याचे अनुभव दांडगे .  जाई-जुई, मोगरा यांच्या सुवासिक जगात निभाव लागणं तस कठीणच. गुलछड्या तर त्यांच्या कडे अगदी बघतही नसत , आणि गुलाबाचं तर विचारायलाही नको. पण म्हणून लीलाताई नैराश्यात बुडाल्या नाहीत. झेंडू-शेवंतीशी बर्यापैकी मैत्री , कधीतरी हारात दिसायच्या , आणि सजावटी करताना , कितीतरी लग्नाची व्यासपीठं लिलाताईंवरच आवलंबून असायची.  इतकं सगळं भरगच्च आयुष्य , पण त्या साधं सुध  एखाद्या पावसाळी सकाळी आपल्या लांब तलवारी सारख्या हिरव्या पानांशी आपल्या तश्याच लांब शुभ्र पाकळ्यांना हाताशी घेऊन छान इकडच्या तिकडचा गप्पा मारत. लीलाताई हे सुंदर नाव असताना काही अती पॉश लोक त्यांना कोळ्याची लीला (स्पायडर लिली) म्हणत . पण त्याचा यत्किंचितही परिणाम  त्यांच्यावर झाला नाही. (नावं ठेवणं ही आम्हा मानवांची स्पेशालिटी ). आणि त्या भरगच्चं प्रमाणात अनेक सकाळी उमलून कोणाच्या तरी आयुष्यात आनंद देत गेल्या. आपला समाज बघा . आमक्यासारखा मोबाईल घ्यायला नकार दिला म्हणून आत्महत्या , कोणीतरी काळं म्हणालं म्हणून नैराश्य; परीक्षेत अपयश म्हणून स्वतःचा जीव घेणे , एखाद्या मुलीने नाकारलं म्हणून तिला ऍसिड फेकून आयुष्याची शिक्षा देणे . आलेल्या परिस्थितीला सामोरं जाणं हल्लीच्या पिढीला जमत नाही. स्वतःवरचा विश्वास उडालाय . आजूबाजूच्या जगा कडून काही शिकणं तर सोडाच . मग अशा वेळी लीलाताई आठवतात . आणि त्यांच्या अनेक क्षणभंगुर आयुष्यात त्या किती परिस्थितींना छान सामोरं जाऊन कश्या धडे शिकवून गेल्या ते आठवतं .  पण आपण हुशार मानव. एका बिन वासाच्या , साध्या विचित्र आकाराच्या फुलाकडून शिकण्यात कमीपणा . हीच आपली हुशारी.

Lilatai , born Hymenocalis Speciosa. Originally from the West Indies, but having hotfooted it to India, with Cricket, and now leading a quiet life in Pandharpur. Her amazing life experiences . Completely lost in the heady world of jasmines, rubbished by tuberose types, and the less said about roses, the better . But Lilatai or Lily as she was then called, never lost hope; made friends with Marigolds and Chrysanthemums, sometimes in garlands, and almost always in decorating the stage backgrounds during weddings... She never lost touch with her origins, and on a cool monsoon morning could be seen in avid fun conversations with her spear like greens and similar copycat petals. Of course, there were some hi-fi folks who called her the Spider Lily, but it did not bother her. Calling people names is a human speciality. And so Lilatai would bloom profusely and bring joy to many folks. I mean, just look at our society. Your parents refuse permission for a new fone, kill yourself; someone called you dark, go into a depression; unsuccessful in exams, hang yourself; some girl refused your advances, throw acid on her face, maiming her for life. The current generation knows nothing about facing situations, have lost confidence in themselves, forget learning from others in life. Remember Lilatai at such moments, and how she faced various circumstances in all too short a life, time and again, giving us lessons. Yes. But we are the "smart humans". We feel insulted learning from an ordinary weirdly shaped flower. That's how smart we are ....

Kites

My friend Arvind Khanna of New Delhi, recently posted this amazing capture of a Brahminy Kite in action. Perhaps this capture is from elsewhere in India, as he travels around.  I hesitate to even say this name of the bird , wondering if there will be protests. 

While I often see similarities in expressions between various birds and folks that wander with great political confidence in the capital,   this particular capture of a bird-in-flight reminded me of an inanimate object; greatly theoretically reverred, but otherwise abused and challenged again and again, for personal and party gain.

(Photograph posted here  with permission of  Arvind Khanna)

It's grown old (since 1950)
with the usual greying;
with eyes to ensure
that we follow rules,
and a huge set of wings
to encompass the सवासो कोटी ,
and protect them.

But it keeps getting assaulted,
misinterpreted,
and questioned,
by some who abhor it.
And so, now,
its wings showing a shredding
with multiparty split-ends,
it prefers to keep at the high ground,
watchfully gliding
and ruing
what life has become.

The Constitution.

Requiem for a fish.....

She has seen more of Mumbai on her bicycle trips in one year than I have seen in all my years in the city.  It has also allowed her to pursue her love for photography to a large extent.  This is all possible if you have a great group of people of various ages and professions  who ride together with you .

This was from a recent cycling trip to Madh Island.  And clicking that fish was important.  Blessed by the rising sun.   To remember , and give  him a farewell , biped style.  Someone else was clicking her while she clicked the fish.  The photo credit for that goes to Vipin Arumugam, a member of her cycling group.  Thank you.

I  get to see such photos much, much later.  And then a poem happens....

  

He has bravely fought
with the nets and the waves,
along with his compatriots
in the first Madh Island Fish War,
and lies fatigued
on the beach,
and close to the end
of a nautical life.

She abandons her bicycle
and rushes
to click a portrait.

And he is immortalized,
amidst a garland of
ocean mist.

RIP ....

as they say
in a biped world. 

Politics and the Art of Making Ladoos

Making Ladoos is all about willing ingredients and enveloping fingers and palms , that give the ingredients, reams of confidence in staying together. 

Today, very clearly, the ingredients show no confidence, and tend to fall apart. 

Just look at what happened in the New Year. 

 

She used to make
great laadus.

A special ability to
choose individual ingredients
with an inclusive attitude in life;
Ingredients that understood a roasting,
and the subsequent benefits;
The amazing welcome,
at all times,
to slightly fancy types who were nuts,
but loved falling in;
the feeling of coming together
healing each others syrupy injuries
and hurts;
and sometimes ,
a finishing by a ghee
whose sole aim was to pack everyone together
so they would stay together.

Today,
ambition has destroyed some of the folks,
sometimes a natural growth,
sometimes nurtured by outside influences.
Roastings get them angry,
the Nuts are targeted for being hard to change,
and it gets harder and harder
to hold everyone together,
despite the sweet syrup,
whose intentions are always suspected.

More often than not,
they frequently fall apart,
get hurt,
and once again,
she endeavours to put them back together;
a militant lot,
that is now in a different Kadhai of Life.

She used to make
great laadus.

Not any more.

It gets more and more difficult.

The sad part is,
she ends up believing
that that is the new normal,
and carries on....
in her old age.