Showing posts with label sharing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sharing. Show all posts

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Bozoical Solutions


Bozo,  Mumbai's only dog-with-his-own-blog has been through a lot in his younger wild days.  Some good friends, some undesirable ones,  just like all of us.   And one think he has learnt, in all these years, now that he is a senior dog,  is that , one must THINK, on one's own , before rushing into something.

A few years ago, he would have dashed around and barked his head off at the bird who messed up the balcony ledge. These days, he barks a bit out of habit, but spends more time nosing around trying to figure out things.  His mentor Magiceye, clicked him in one of his investigative moods.....


We fellows
are blessed with
a fine sensitive nose.

We smell
arrivals,
departures,
dangers,
signals,
people,
animals,
and birds
not to mention
yummy stuff happening
in the kitchen.

My cool nostrils
flared in anger
on seeing this desecration
of the balcony ledge.

Ears perked up, tail straight
I stretched and sniffed,
glared at the sky,
thinking
"how dare they ....."

And then i remembered
that
I too used to do such stuff
in my younger days
to mark my territory
when i ran wild with my friends.

I am older now,
and I have learnt
that everyone has their own way
of showing power,
even birds.
I also learned,
that a frightened bird
will also do this.

Like I heard someone say,
space is limited
and
the earths population
grows and grows.

Territories must be shared
and 
both minds and territories
must be kept free
of dirt and bad thoughts.

I think
I will wait,
for this to dry,
and then scratch it away with my paw.....



Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Allocation of Sour Dough Blocks


I am blessed with some amazing friends who I have never met. Who spend an entire afternoon making sour dough bread , and then post photos .

My FB friend and blogger Sangeeta Khanna , likes to cook stuff , paying attention to the nutritional value of what she uses. She also uses the freshest of ingredients as she has her own garden, which she tends with green fingers.

 The minute she posted this, there was a clamour for pieces online, with some folks ruing the fact that they stay so far away from her house. Some even openly planned to kidnap her so they could have a series of baking sessions with her.

 It is strange because we've been hearing in the political news about similar clamours for coal blocks, surreptitious granting of pieces of land for mining, and certain folks lives being greatly sweetened.

Just saying. ...

Sigh.  Since I live more than 1000 kilometres away from it all, all could do was write a poem ...:-)

(photo by Sangeeta Khanna)
The temperature is perfect,
the various nutty allies
are supportive,
as the yeast of ambition,
gets them

over confident, 
and puffed up.

Their own oven,
their own flour,
free butter for the asking;
All the bread blocks would be theirs
to cut up
and sell to outsiders
with the pepitas of power
at amazing prices.

Here's someone,
who sources
her own mind,
her own garden,
and her own knowledge
of sensible ingredients.
The yeast of ambition
changes to the yeast of friendship,
and spreads,
lightening
an afternoon bake.
And she cuts them into pieces,
and virtually
offers them one by one,
to everyone ,
with a cup of hibiscus tea.......

The pepitas,
happily tumble away ,
as she cuts the bread.

For they wait
to be popped
into her mouth as she reads this ....

:-)

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Lilly Olympics....


This beautiful water lily at the Mahim Nature Park in Mumbai , photographed by my blogger friend Magiceye, and posted  in his Mumbai daily: Camera Critters blog.

At first sight, the visual brings back recollections of the London Olympics Opening Ceremony.  The stadium, the lights, the people, even the Queen, except here it is a Queen Bee.

But here there is no sense of competition; just a sense of 3 bees, imbibing all the goodness on offer, in a co-operative way... 


Mother Nature
has her own
Olympic opening ceremony,
almost every day.....

A floating stadium,
that opens everyday,
no tickets,
all free,
a packed  audience
holding up their arms,
invoking the blessings
of the One above.

The acrobatic
buzz of the 3 bees
Amar, Akbar and Anthony,
as they
pick and choose
their nectar points,
to imbibe
and
to share
all flooded in gold,
and a million hands joined together
as if in prayer
in the centre of it all....

Monday, June 27, 2011

The Blooming

"Bramhakamal" the flower named after Bramha, the God of creation, (or or Saussurea Obvallata , if you insist on its boring botanical name) blooms for only one night in the year, during the monsoon season here. The bloom lasts just for a few hours. If one observes closely, the buds look like they originate from the leaves of the plant. The central white stamen is believed to represent Lord Krishna, and the reddish brown stalks surrounding the closed bud are supposed to represent the 100 Kauravas of the Mahabharata.

A few scientific spoilsports claim this is NOT the Bramhakamal that has Himalayan roots, but actually a Night blooming Cereus with a terrible botanical name of Epiphyllum oxypetalum. Never mind.


But those that plant it, nurture it, worship it and marvel at its magic, still believe in the connection to Bramha.

The magic of the Bramhakamal , is not just in its blooming, but in its fragrance, and the sense of wonder it invokes in little girls.

As one little girl did, last night , as Sunday June 26, became Monday June 27 !

(Once again, the original happened in my mother tongue, Marathi. And English effort follows for my non-marathi friends)

(photograph by Sameer S Sahasrabuddhe,
the plant from the garden of Mrs C Vijayalakshmi)


काही कमळे,
आतल्या आत गुप्तपणे
योजना ठरवून
आधी खूप हिरवा लवाजमा पाठवून
अचानक एका मध्यरात्री
पडद्याआडून अचानक येणार्या
सौंदर्यवती सारखे अवतरतात ...
आणि
काही कमळे,
रोजच इतर फुलांच्या घोळक्यात
नाचत , सुरात झोकून
कानात गुपित सांगत
हसत खेळत ,
आपल्या जन्मादात्त्यांच्या मांडीवर
डोकं ठेउन
गमती जम्तीन्च्या गप्पा करत ,
लहान सहान गोष्टींनी भाराउन जाउन ,
मुक्त हस्ताने आपला आनद उधळतात ......

Some,
with a sense of
occasion, mystery
and exclusivity,
and amidst
longish tough greens
keeping the secret
themselves,
simply make
a grand appearance
in pristine ,
fragrant glory,
like an exclusive
diva queen,
making grand entry
on stage,
eagerly anticipated
by us ordinary folks.

And some,
enmeshed,
in the
friendship of
other flowers,
in life's wonderful garden,
singing, dancing,
sharing secrets
amidst giggles and smiles;
Snuggling with
their parents,
and
excitedly spouting
nineteen to the dozen,
freely fling around,
their own joy.

It's contagious !

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Footwears of the Mind

My young blogger friend Kalyani Wakkar, didn't realize what would happen, when she kicked of her sandals at the beach, and ran to commune with the waves and the sun. Her friend Parag Mahale clicked a photograph, another oldish friend saw it on FB and a poem happened....

(photo by Parag Mahale, modeled by Kalyani Wakkar and her sandals.)


Some sandals
stick
to the owner
everywhere,
absorbing
every cut,
pokey stone,
lash of cow dung
and wet mud,
but
keeping
the feet
clean,
unfeeling,
and the person
devoid of nerves...


But some,
like a good friend,
share the
heat of the road
on a summer afternoon,
the stumble
across
an innocent pebble,
inadvertent puddle thumps,
the
little scratches
of stuff in the sand,
and stand
patiently aside,
encouraging
and
waiting,
as you decide to get your feet wet
in some
new waters
once again......

And when
a
particularly big wave
of something
arrives,
and you run back,
they remain,
overcome by the foam,
but bravely facing up,
faithfully waiting for you....