One step up.....

My blogger friend Magiceye  recently posted this  photograph,  of a determined  cow  trying to figure out an access  :-) into a Jaisalmer (Rajasthan)  Haveli. While one admires the intricate latticework, jharokas, and typical Haveli architecture, one cannot but wonder at the very clumsy attempt at defining the steps leading to the door, like an afterthought.

I guess the cow is not really surprised.  She may not have a developed cerebral cortex like humans,  but her eyes and her opinions are as sharp as ever.  

Read on to see what she says....

(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)

Big buildings,
fancy architecture,
bigger names to
adorn
all these places,
but we always
fall short
with the
connecting infrastructure.

My cousin in IIT Powai
mentioned
how
they can still walk up
to
department entrances,
and casually walk over
gates with
"cattle guards";
because
the guards
have an old design
and we
have bigger hooves;
and no one really
bothers
to check.

How can the
unpriviledged
and homeless
find stability,
unless
you give them
an infrastructure
to
help them climb?

A Bozoical Portrait.....

Bozo, Mumbai's only dog-with-his-own-blog,  making multiple appearances this week!

Fatigued from clicking skies, food, flowers, and monuments  to dead and gone queens, warriors and kings, on a recently concluded road trip,  his mentor and chronicler of his life and times , Magiceye, must have decided to click some pictures, where the subject actually came and snuggled at your feet  later.

Bozo, who clearly knows when he is being photographed, decided to give his best senior  statesman pose....

For most of us,
it's really,
a dog's life;
scrounging around
for answers
to life's questions,
running around
on roads
with guys and gals in
similar boats,
growling and tangling
with folks
with doubtful intentions.

Except me.

I found my family
8 years ago,
as a little fellow,
and went home with them,
to be a part,
and share
in their joys and sorrows
celebrations and surprises.

Never knew what my mother named me,
but my friends
often called me names
I did not understand.
Till I came home
here,
and found out
that I was Bozo...

I often see
from the corner of my eye,
when Deepak looks at me
through a black contraption
and clicks..
I've seen
young folks in the house
pose
and
smile into the contraption.

I just thought I'd give my
elder statesman pose
in this one......

Go forth, young fellow !

This amazing capture by Slogan Murugan, also known as M.S. Gopal, actually leaves you wordless. As he says ,"I have a camera. A few words. And I tell stories..." ....

Then you recover, look closely to ascertain what the liitle boy must be thinking,  remember your childhood,  and sometimes, a poem happens.

Have a look at more of his wonderful works at 

• http://www.msgopal.com
• http://www.mumbaipaused.com
• http://www.behance.net/gopal/frame
• http://mainsandcrosses.blogspot.com

(photo by Slogan Murugan)

Wide eyes,
Vibhutied forehead,
Blessed,
clutching a
checked bag and water bottle,
he tugs at his
uniform pants
and steps out,
holding on
to a
maternal proud hand,
shooing away the dog,
all agog about it.

Some moons later,
he listens ,
wide-eyed
but preoccupied
with thoughts of
marbles in the recess,
and someone's birthday chocolates,
as his ma hands him
the forgotten
slate pencils with a point
and a tiffin.

The Sun,
watching it all,
smiles extra wide
from the other side,
wishing
he too
had a grandpa
to pat him,
and send him on his way,
daily
across the world
everyday......

Gilt-Edged Cardiac Chemistry

Gold is called a Noble metal, and its nobility is highlighted by the fact that acids have no effect on it. (Unless of course, you are Aqua Regia, but then Latin is not my strong point).

One of my young blogging friends, Pri, wrote a wonderful post on Acid Tests in Life, and how we fool ourselves into thinking , that we have passed the acid test "in relationships", simply because the environment is conducive to it; only to have the world collapse in shambles around us, during inclement times.  I think , the number of seasons (62 in this case), one has seen in life, gives one a different perspective, and I rush in (where qualified folks fear to tread) ,to reassure my friend.....


And then I realized something.  We primarily use Gold to adorn the persona. The purest Gold cannot be made into adornments. For that , it has to be made less noble, with the addition of other metals that give it some hardness, that allows us to design beautiful things. This "impure" addition makes it react to the acid.  The amount of other metals added decides the karats and the strength.  (22,18,14,10 etc).

So while it may look like one's relationship  has failed the acid test  by reacting to the acid,  another way to see the same is to realize that it is pointing to a way to strengthen it, so it can be proudly enjoyed , in future seasons. 

 Chemistry of the acid type in NOT supreme.  That of the people type, is, and lasts.

  (photo courtsey Google)

The acid
is like a teacher;

Sometimes lovable,
sometimes intimidating,
sometimes cursed.

And
unlike us
she knows
about different golds.

There are
the purest ones,
unchanged in acid,
regardless of
season fluctuations...

Then the
22 and 18 karat folks,
who absorb some
presumed sins,
in the interests
of being tough
in rough times...

And then again,
the 14 and 10 karatwalaas,
open to the world
and all its
doubtful additive ideas
in an effort to be the toughest.

The most impure
get the worst treatment
from the Acid teacher,
sizzled in scar tissue.

Its a strength
of test, endurance and learning,
as the gold
can always learn
new lessons.



It doesn't mean it failed the test.

It simply means
that it is
learning about life,
gaining strength,
and hopes to adorn some
wonderful lives
come spring....

A Bozoical Waiting

After a long break, Bozo, Mumbai's only-dog-with-his-own-blog is back.   His mentor and chronicler of his life and times, Magiceye, was away on a longish roadtrip.

Bozo has suddenly grown up,  and behaved like a responsible fellow in the absence of Magiceye, although he would prick up his ears, when the phone rang, every now and then.

A very thoughtful capture of a very thoughtful Bozo , posted here.


(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)

I've leapt with joy 

when the young fellow
came home,
and I've rushed
to be scratched
and rubbed
when the young lady
returned from college.

Sometimes,
I've rushed around the house,
where I shouldn't,
searching for folks
who had gone somewhere,
and stood still
endlessly,
at the window sill
on my hind legs
waiting.

Today,
I am not young anymore
and have learned the ways
of the humans.

They go away,
travel,
and
they send messages
and speak
on little contraptions
that everyone carries,
and although
I think
technology is absolutely woof,
I know it
when they talk about me.

I don't agitate and run any more,
unlike some
fancy folks I know
who keep getting makeovers
because they are named after a TV star.
.

I behave my age.

I lie down
and watch
the preparations in the house.

He is returning today.

Can you see the light of delight in my eyes ?

I wait for him to return
so I can lie
at his feet
and get a wonderful rub...

Geriatric musings

A great capture of the Indian Reef Heron by my blogfriend Magiceye, clicked at the Sewri Mudflats on Mumbai's eastern seaboard. Posted by him as part of the Camera Critters series in his blog, Mumbai Daily: Camera critters.

The Sewri Coastline , earlier densely populated with mangroves, has suffered through the perils of industrialization and construction in the name of progress.

Today,  it is a protected bird area .  I hope the birds continue to think so too, in the years to come.

(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)

Tough days for old folks,
in Mumbai.

In earlier times,
I've swooped down amidst the waves
to tangle with fish;
and
when the waves receded
my friends and I
pecked around
the mud
searching for dessert.

Thanks to
the biped's proclivity
for pouring waste into the ocean,
my plumage is prematurely grey,
and arthritis hurts,
as I tread gingerly
amidst the flats
riddled with
chemical scar tissue.

No wonder
our youngsters fly off,
depleting a nest
that is itself no more
and
the firangi flamingoes
prefer
Kokan beaches
further south...

Like I said,
its a bad time for old folks in Mumbai...

Turtle Trek !

My FB friend, collaborator in the Kavikala project,   Chief Paperwalla at Paperwalla Art, Chief planter at Project 35 trees (planting and nurturing a tree each in the 35 states + union territories in India), Hari Chakyar , posted this photo, clicked by his friend Arun Singh , at Velas near Ratnagiri,  south of Mumbai, down the Kokan coast.

Velas is  a remote village in Mandangad taluka in Ratnagiri district. The occasion is the Turtle Festival, a celebration of Nature’s wonder in which baby turtles of the Olive Ridley are released into the sea by Sahyadri Nisarga Mitra’s volunteers. The marine turtle conservation movement has been underway in Maharashtra since the past nine years.

Several folks from Mumbai , including Hari Chakyar and friends, were present in Velas, to witness this amazing trek of the turtles, towards the sea.

I just wondered  what the turtles must be thinking .....
 
(photograph by Arun Singh )

For years
we did this trek.
 
Sometimes
nudging each other,
Sometimes
paying attention to our steps,
and we 
stopped when we wanted,
Sometimes to catch a breath,
Sometimes
because
you happened to like
the turtle
coming up just behind you
and
Sometimes,
simply because
the Sun looked so awesome....

What to do ?
These people
in pink gumboots
and hawaii chappals
simply crowd
around us,
taking pictures,
exclaiming, jabbering,
saying
"awesome awesome",
watch us move our heads in and out;
 
Some even
kneeling in the sand,
to click us,
as if we are the
Kokan Turtle Fashion Week showstoppers;
and that simply
makes potholes on our land,
which we must traverse.

Ah , potholes ! now I know.
Must be from Mumbai !
Hai na ?

Life Marathons......

I hear , running marathons, is getting popular these days....

As International Womens' Day draws near, I just wondered why ....

She now runs the
Marathon of Life,
hurt
but focused,
all by herself.

Life
has clearly been
a very different ball game.

Brittle
as a ping pong ball,
she spun
wildly across the green table
as she believed
first one,
and then another,
tolerating devious shots,
till she once fell,
crushed into pieces
under some one's
branded uncaring footwear.

Was she
a shuttlecock,
sometimes shot across
and sometimes
evilly dropped
as she clutched
on to the net;
and sometimes
declared "fast"
and relegated to trash,
in favour
of a spiffy new
fair and lovely
more obedient one?

Or was she
a foot ball,
kicked around
at will
on some one's whistled  instruction,
prevented
from reaching her goals,
by so called "keepers",
who kicked her right back
into the chaos
that was her life ?

Possibly a tennis ball.
As they first practiced
banging her head
against the wall,
again and again;
then on a larger stage,
whacked her
back-handed and fore-handed,
and sometimes
even powerfully
tossed her out.

And again and again,
she looks
high up
at someone sitting there
on the big chair,
who sagaciously nods
at her,
gestures to her,
and announces the
Life mantra,
that really,
doesn't seem to work.

Love-All ?

Start ?

Really ?

Crouching Tiger, Zooming Man

A brilliant capture of a young tiger prince, named Sultan, by my young friend Sudhir Bharadwaj, who recently went on a trip to the Tadoba Wildlife Sanctuary , near Nagpur, in Central India.

 He and his group were very lucky to actually see many tigers in action , even crossing a stream. A special thing was to see four tiger cubs, reported to be 3 to 4 months in age, feasting on a deer, possibly killed for them by their mother.

What an introduction for the kids ; a vicious killing, a grand meal, and a semi siesta in the grass disturbed, by the sounds of a jeep, slowly advancing amidst a curtain of dust, as their eldest sibling, Sultan, settles down to be the family watchdog, peering with sharp eyes, alert, on a sunny afternoon....

 (photo by Sudhir Bharadwaj)

The mater moves ,
bounding
around the periphery,
alert,
checking for
a sense of danger
and an outsider's tread.

The four little ones,
now
out into the world,
playfully shove each other
as
they tear and chew
around the carcass
of the
carotid-less deer....

The sound of an engine,
rubber on grass
and gravel,
a throw-up of dust.

The man with the Zoom
waits
for it to settle.

Some little ones have gone.
Their eldest,
Sultan,
lies alert,
eyes bright,
camouflaged in the leaves,
not knowing
that the Zoomwalla
can still see
the quiver
in his nostrils
and the light in his eyes......

Leap of Faith ?

Clicked recently, at Tadoba National Wildlife Sanctuary, three hours away from Nagpur, in Central India.  By my young friend and wildlife enthusiast, Sudhir Bharadwaj, who is otherwise a peaceful corporate type.

The tigers were out in full force, and were captured on film, swimming, trying to climb a tree,  majestically lording it over a road crossing.  They even saw  4 baby tigers salivating and making a meal out of a deer, which had just breathed its last, while the Tiger mom was out looking out for more.

Then he captured this amazing photo  of a simian in flight,  which I thought had a message ......

(Photo by Sudhir Bharadwaj)

They come
loaded with jackets and lenses
binoculars at the ready,
whispering quietly,
desperately searching
for the fellows
the country
is officially out to save.

I lean
from the swinging branch
as a quiet descends,
to watch
4 baby tigers,
enjoy the remnants
of my erstwhile friend
the deer.

I told him,
not to go near the water.

But at the end of the day
Its the same story.

Inadequate drinking water
six decades into independence,
and the big
and the powerful
have a monopoly
bossing it over us,
second class citizens,
first class fools.

I flit,
nimbly from tree to tree,
scrounging for my own,
leaping across
the road
bossed over
by the jackets and cameras
in jeeps,
and I look at them,
think of my ape cousins,
and go,
ye gads,
is this what evolution does,
and is this
what became of
folks like me ?