Political Evolution at High Altitudes...

My  blogging friend, botanist researcher Sangeeta Khanna  recently visited Sikkim , and  was smitten by various local veggies that don't normally make an appearance , say, in big metros.  Naturally, she probably lugged back a basket of those , to experiment later while cooking.

Have a look at the various vegetables here.  While some were heard of but not seen , there were some which looked a bit hybrid. Like the ones below.

Neither the brinjals nor the  tomato parivars would have been thrilled.  Purity and all that.

And a thought kept reccurring in the mind. ......

The Congressi brinjal
and
BJP red tomato
eloped to the mountains
straight from the backyard
of Lutyen's Delhi.

No Party Sharty
in the Himalayas,
and a tough
but a healthy life
slogging in the winds
and cold
and brilliant Himalayan Sun,
and
their children happened,
losing all the
excessive colorful traits,
except the beaklike stem
from
all the shouting their parents did
in Parliament.

You can tell
whose children they are,
but they all now belong
to the Greens Party.

Half-bare but unbowed.....

My blogger and FB friend Dipali Taneja from Kolkata, recently posted an amazing photo as her cover page on her FB timeline.

A photo , reminiscent of so many such trees,  who are supposed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and hence mercilessly mutilated;  only to gather their strengths together,  and now stand, bravely, trying to hark back to their old lives, when they didn't live by the diktat of the crackling powerful wires ....

Her photo inspired a tentative sketch, and a poem....

(photograph by Dipali Taneja)

Woe betide
the perils of
industrial progress....

Growing up
as a healthy kid
amidst verdant grounds
and hilly yards
favoured by birds and squirrels,
she thinks
she expected
too much from life.

A tough,
battling middle age later,
she stands
scarred by the fight
against
those that hanker for power.

Leaves and branches
that appear
to hinder
the carriers of power
summarily sent
to oblivion,
despite protests.

She stands,
beseeching,
in her handicapped glory,
begging
the birds and squirrels and monkeys
to return.

Whatever green she has now,
is theirs.....

Green means .....

My blogger friend, Shail Mohan, versatile poet,sensitive photographer, and chronicler of the life-and-times of Luci the dog (as she goes through a wild adolescence), often posts photographs that, in addition to being a visual delight, often make you think.

One such, "Shades of Green" was posted on her photoblog .

Made me think of  natural  colors, organized colors, and different meanings of the word "green " !


(photograph by Shail Mohan  on Sony Cybershot)

They lived,
played
and grew together,
in the corner
of a
garden
carefully landscaped
and
suffused with flowers
of every hue
and  shade.

Not for them
the obsession
with age and white
and lines,
and they mixed in wild abandon,
oblivious
to the perfectly manicured lawn
and some
hi-fi folks
in states of permanent youth.

And as the
landscape architect
walked around
pontificating
on the
shades of green,
organized
just so,
they nudged each other,
made way for a foraging squirrel,
forgave Luci
for running rough shod through them,
and backslapped each other saying,
" Green means
never having to worry about your color....
Does anyone understand ?......."

Aaj ka Arjun......

My blogger and FB friend, and prolific chronicler of interesting and out-of-the-way places to drive to, on road trips across Maharashtra, particularly in the Sahyadris, Priyadarshan Kale, gets so immersed in photos of mountains, rivers, rural roads and greenery, that sometimes a bunch of backpacks (his own) strewn on a green plateau, makes for an interesting composition.

Riding his Zen, through forests for extended periods, before returning back to the intrigues of civilization, made him remember the story of the Pandavas, retrieving their "weapons" from the Shami tree, after completing their banishment to the forests and the incognito-one-year, before returning to face the Kauravaas...,  to face the realities of life .....

Inspired in Marathi , then an effort in English....


(photo by Priyadarshan Kale)

सह्याद्रीच्या कड्याकपारीतून
"झेन" मनस्थितीत फिरताना ,
अचानक काळेकाकांना
आपली खांदाशास्त्रे
शामिवृक्षा ऐवजी
दुसरीकडेच दिसली ......
हिरवे कडे, खोल दरी ,
दूरवर दिसणारे कौरवी गाव ,
त्यात फिरणारी लाल दिव्याची गाडी...

निळ्या आकाशाकडे कटाक्ष फेकत ,
त्यांनी  खांदाशास्त्रे उचलली ,
सुंदर प्राणवायूचा दीर्घ श्वास घेत
मान हलवत रथात मागे टाकली ,
आणि साश्रू नयनांनी
सौंदर्याचा निरोप घेतला...

सोमवारी हस्तिनापुरात
जाणे अनिवार्य होते .....
अज्ञात वास संपला होता आणि
ट्राफिकवास व  डीझेलवास  
सुरु  होणार होता !

 Traversing
the exalted green
of the Sahyadris,
on an incognito weekend.

He stops
the Maruti Zen,
to stretch his feet,
and looks for his usual goodies
in his shoulder bags.

Double shouldered bows
with no arrows,
he is Arjun
retrieving his stuff
from the Shami tree.

Immense plateaus,
green valleys,
Boring civilization in the distance
and a  red beacon car
advancing
a few miles away.....

He sighs,
and throws his stuff
in the back
of his Zen chariot,
bidding the woods goodbye.

He must be at Hastinapur-Mumbai
by Monday...

It is now time to
to give up
the mountain spray,
and meet up
with
the perfume of traffic and diesel
once again.....

The Dance is the Message

One of the many photos posted by blogger friend Harekrishnaji, on his drives out of Pune and Mumbai this monsoon, en route from Thoseghar to Kas. You can see more of his photographs here.

Incursions of brick and mortar in places that still boast of virgin forests, cascading rivers, and rivers in a monsoon rush across the plains, and nature has a habit of appearing in divine form , nudging us , and sometimes, glaring at us, so we get the message.

Like this bare tree, trying its darnedest best to portray the Shiva as Nataraj........

(in both marathi ad english)

(Fritzof Capra in his article "The Dance of Shiva: The Hindu View of Matter in the Light of Modern Physics," and later in the The Tao of Physics beautifully relates Nataraj's dance with modern physics. He says that "every subatomic particle not only performs an energy dance, but also is an energy dance; a pulsating process of creation and destruction…without end…For the modern physicists, then Shiva's dance is the dance of subatomic matter. As in Hindu mythology, it is a continual dance of creation and destruction involving the whole cosmos; the basis of all existence and of all natural phenomena.")


(photo by Harekrishnaji)
अनादी काळ
मानवाने आधाशी पणाने
दगडांवर छिन्नीने मारलेले व्रण ,
हिरवाई ओरबाडून
सिमेंट-विटांनी केलेली नाटकं,
नद्या अडवून रागावलेले बंधारे ,
आणि एक
सर्व काही हरवलेला वृक्ष ,
कड्यावर
नटराजाचा आवेशात ,
उरली सुरली हिरवाई ,
गडबडून घरंगळत
कोसळणारी नदी ,
आणि विजायुन्मादाने
वाहणारी नदी
यांची राखण करत
आयुष्याच्या संध्याकाळी ,
तुमच्या डोळ्याला डोळा भिडवत
उभा ठाकतो.....
Avaricious scrapings
by greedy types,
baring
scarred stone
to the elements;
Felling of the green
to accommodate
false
victories in brick and mortar.....
and the desperate river,
blocked by bunds,
raging down ,
in agitated foam,
dissipating
slowly into a flow.

In solitary splendour,
the lone tree
stands,
in the evening of its life,
alone,
bare,
and leafless;
guarding
the riches behind,
in a dance of Shiva.

Creation
must follow Destruction;
and he stands
sentinel-like
doing the cosmic dance,
amidst
few green folks,
at his feet
who seem to understand what he says...

The auspicious green perspective

This poem is being submitted as a post on

“A perspective on roles of Indian Women”

Indusladies 2nd Annual International Women's Day Blog Contest

A fertile green
in several avatars,
She,
is a story
scripted by
the Trees of the Land.

She is the young rice,
childlike green
in the wet fields,
sometimes petulant, drying away
sometimes overcome and washed away,
but when older,
transplanted
unasked,
elsewhere,
to thrive and give of herself,
the woman of rural India...

She is the dainty rose
in a garden,
next to a rowdy guava tree;
holding her own,
sometimes
coquettish in a maiden''s hair,
sometimes
devotional at the heavenly feet;

She revels in friendship
with the champa tree,
as well as the mogra bush,
and gives space
to the jasmines and parijaats
of the world as well
while supporting those
that remain green,
and grow,
but never flower....

And what do you say
about
Lady Mangrove -

She who tolerates
and thrives
in
salty mush,
daily overcome
by waves and tides of misfortunes
some from the sea,
and some
from the land,
rapacious avaricious killers,
out to replace her..

Chained with the
sisters ,
roots entangled
she stands to protect
erosion of those
she considers her own....

Higher up
Shethani style, She sits,
and flowers in season,
a Page 3
of the woods,
laden with fruit,
some sweet,
that go to far off lands,
but some,
when plucked,
by dedicated hands,
and magically processed
turns into
sweet and tasty delights
for the children of the land.

There is of course
an upkeep
for the grand lady;
but such is life
in this land.

But sometimes,
well entrenched
in the land that
empowered her,
She proudly stands,
sheltering
younger and weaker ones,
in her shade,
as she digs deeper
into the earth for her strength;

The warrior tree,
facing the wrath
of the goonda wind
and hatchet elements,
her proud tough spine,
and roots
hanging down
to clutch the earth,
a Mother
fearless
for the children,
the Ma Banyan,
ageless and tough
against
trespassing winds.

Kalpavriksha sentinels,
some who stand,
tall and tough,
Medha Patkars
and Sindhutai Sapkals,
rising up to the skies
to lead...

They give of themselves
in every way,
honest and ramrod straight;
Seasonal slipping branches
landing with a thud,
and industrious hands
fashion them into baskets
and mats;

Born in fertile numbers
Her little fruits,
are taken away
while some drop off,
after she teaches them
to dedicate themselves
to feeding the hungry,
the thirsty,
the revellers,
and the sick.

Tough nuts to crack,
but soft and sweet inside
like their Mother.

And then,
some,
beauties ,
and 'useful'
in their prime,
now isolated,
hurt,
broken,
unable to counter
loneliness,
withering away
in their own Vrindavans.....

This land
is so rich with
Smart trees,
Thinking geriatric trees,
Young beauteous bushes,
Fragrantly divine trees,
Brave defiant trunks
on Leader trees,
Generous altruistic trees,
Ant like small
industrious greens
enriching the land;
but mostly
taken for granted
by all.....


Women Power;
if only
environment
was religion to us,
and greening our Puja,
the women
would get their place
in the scheme of things...



I would like to tag (as per the rules) and request my friends below to participate....:

1. Uma S.
2. Swati Ram
3. Padma R.

Separating the grains from the chaff....

He is actually in the wrong profession. He sees things we don't see, and captures them in his camera. Sometimes words happen. Sometimes the pictures are the words. See some more of his pictures here.

Sometimes reactions such as these.........

(Photo by Kavi Arasu)
Fields
resplendently green
on the plateau,
set way down
from the road
much traveled ,
by those trained
to separate the
dedicated grain
from
the wayward chaff.

Fresh
on a sunny noon,
he simply does his magic
lifting the 'Sup',
supported by
the sinewy arms,
and
shakes and taps
the fruit of
his year's labour,
all trained,
grown and harvested together,
as it falls
grains with grains
chaff with chaff,
unlike us,
where
so may chaffs
pretend to be grains....