The Runner's Secret...

There are many who participate in the Mumbai Marathon.  Some run to breast the tape, and some run to click the effort.

This post is dedicated to my young friend Kavi Arasu, who has been running the marathon for several years, and keeps himself fit in practice throughout the year, despite his tough and busy working life.  He can be seen expressing his delight in the capture below...

 It is also dedicated to another friend , Priyadarshan Kale, who year after year is out there in the early hours of a cold Sunday, clicking folks  making stupendous efforts, as they actually compete with themselves.  (While many of us  clutch hot coffee in cups and watch folks roughing it out on TV)...

It is also time to acknowledge those at home who make all this possible. 

And so many others....

Kilometre after Kilometre,
one foot after another,
the lungs and heart
applauding in a
regular celebratory beat,
a sudden banking in the road,
a much appreciated sip
of the seasons cool water,
a splash mixing with
the sweat shining on the eyes.

A friend,
powered by an urge to run,
but unable to do so,
nevertheless
rushes to click
and is rewarded
by an image
of someone
who just figured out,
that besides
long distance blessings,
prayers, cheering,
wishes of success,
dedication of those
who make the running possible,
and quiet encouragement
from the skies,
what really powers the last lap
is the face of someone
at the winning post,
jumping up and down,
from a knee high position,
eyes bright and searching,
wreathed in smiles,
charging around here and there,
to the tune of
"My Daddy Strongest...".

दोन बुटांची तिसरी गोष्ट .....

The Mumbai Marathon happened today .

My friend Priyadarshan Kale  always attends the Mumbai Marathon every year , at the city end,  and posts interesting pictures like this one, of a young girl participating in the 6 kms Dream run. In full traditional 9 yard silk saree regalia, complete with a nosering. 

 These are times when any physical activity almost always requires some kind of mandatory special outfits.  So different from when i was a child,  and just about any physical activity could be done by a lady in a nine yard saree, tucked in just so.

I just wondered what the shoes mus have thought ....    ( I don't hold any special brief for either of the shoe brands mentioned; it is just that the young girl's shoes looked like those owned by a runner in my family.    :-)     )

खूप लांबून प्रवास करून

एका सुन्दर डब्यात बसून आलेले

नाय्केराव बुटे व  रीबोकसिंह पादत्राणे ,

शेवटी बाहेर पडतात

आणि एकामेकाना न्याहाळून

अनेक विचार त्यांच्या मनात येतात .

कुठे

काळे कुट्ट कपडे ,

आणि पायावरून  घसरणार्या

घामाच्या असंख्य धारा ;

काही मुंबईच्या  हवेत उडून फस्त ,

आणि काही

रॆबोकाञ्च्या डोक्यावर
मोज्यातून सरकून टपटप थेंब ;

आणि कुठे

नाजूक पाव्लाभोवती
सुंदर गुलाबी नायके,

आणि
आजूबाजूला सळ्सळ्नारि

वार्यात उडणारी,

पण लक्ष ठेऒन, हळूच

पाया भोवती लाडाने गोल फिरून घाम टिपणारी

काठपदराची हिरवी जरीची

नौवारी रेशमी साडी ,

आणि तिला सांभाळून धावणारी

आलांक्रीत

आपल्या आजीची नथ घालून धावणारी

एक सर्वगुणसंपन्न युवती।

आणि

साडीची एक रेशमी सळसळ

बाजूला करून,

नाय्केराव म्हणतात,

"रीबोका , नशीब लागतं हो ! …

 प्रत्येकाचा पळणारा वरचा ठरवतो,

पण राजाभाऊ अचानक फ़ोटो काढून

तुझ नशीब जगजाहीर करतात त्याच काय?"

Lessons in Blooming...

"Bringing up" flowers in Mumbai is had work, given the lack of open spaces and limited space in high rise balconies.  But some folks like my friend Deepak Amembal manage to grow many different blooms, attract many different birds, and even click the flowers,  blooming together.

And then post the wonderful capture.

Possibly in a difficult terrain, but clearly, with a sense of unity and regard for each other.

Something , that we as an evolved species , seem to have forgotten.

They knew about
sustained living and greening
before we made it
into a conference item.

Green
was all about
accepting
differing shapes and sizes,
and encouraging
the flowers of labour
to live in harmony,
despite
differences
in color,
size,
form,
fragrance,
future prospects,
and yes,
white pigmentation
on the faces of some.

Unlike us,
they know,
that
as children
of the same Mother Earth,
they are equally
precious
to Some One Else Up There
who receives them
in a garland every morning
at dawn ....

Coucal Nritya....

My friend Shail Mohan, of Thiruvananthapuram, often known as the Bird Lady and Luci's Mom, lives amidst greenery greatly favoured by all varieties of birds. She also enriches our knowledge by identifying these birds by their  special names. 

In these days of Fair and Lovely, it is impressive to see this capture of a Crow Pheasant, also known as a Greater Coucal, engrossed in his (or her) own version of a graceful ballet.  Possibly giving all the Swans a run for their money, with respectful apologies to Shri Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.......

Which must hereafter be referred to as the  Greater Coucal Ballet.

 E-Immortalized by Shail.   Enjoy....

A leaping flight
a jette
a pirouette
an effortless stretch,
a gentle landing.

Except,
it's a black tu-tu
ballet claws,
and a gentle shake
of a plantain tree
as he bends
deep to peck at a fruit,
with backstretched wings
in the final
part of
Greater Coucal Ballet
celebrated with a Caw Caw Libretto
amidst
the Greens of Thiruvananthapuram.

Simian Sensangiography....

My friend, Varsha Tiwary   who lives and works  in the capital , is, besides her profession, an avid trekker, naturalist and green enthusiast. And so it is not a surprise that she runs into scenes such as these and clicks and posts them,  and titles it as "Spa therapy" ,  after leisure activities of the fancy Homo Sapiens.

At first the action intrigued me, and then something became very clear.

Read on.....

(photograph by Varsha Tiwary)

A little one
hurt
by chains and ropes
and frightened leaps
across
sticks and
simple beliefs
that don't hold any more

So she,
a Padma-Simian,
takes charge,
in the barricaded Cathlab,
and seeks
a femoral artery
to insert
catheterized dollops of
comfort, love,
reassurance,
and confidence
straight
into the little one's heart.

With so much devolution
happening in Human behaviour,
maybe,
it is time for
these folks
to practice what
mind-medicine they learned
in the days
when life was simpler.... ?

A Blooming Life.....

My friend Amit Amembal  is simply blessed to have some amazing plants blossoming in his balcony garden, and he posted this wonderful capture with a comment saying , " A flower does not think of the flower beside it before it blooms.... It just blooms! ...."

Simply confirming my belief, that there is much that we have to learn from Nature.  

And that we are so good at ignoring it all....

ऐन बहरातील एक हरित वृक्ष ललना , वसुन्धरेने कौतुकाने बनवलेले पौष्टिक पक्वान्न , फांद्या पानांनी लगबगीने भरवलेले, आणि विविध आकार आणि मापात फुलून येणार्या छोट्या मोठ्या फुलराण्या । काही आत्मविश्वासाने अगदी पुढे , काही झुप्क्या झुप्क्यात एकत्र मोठ्या होत , काही मोठ्या , कौतुकाने लहानाची काळजी घेत, आणि काही लहान ,हट्टी , आपल्या आपल्या कलांनी आयुष्यात उमलत. एकिच्या उमलण्याने, दुसरीच्या मनात क्लेश नाहीत , मंद उमल्णार्यानचा सर्वांकडून मन लाउन सांभाळ , लहान मोठ्याचा भेद नाही , आणि हरित आई कडून आयुष्यभर आपला सुगंध जगाला देत राहण्याची शिकवण … कधी कधी वाटत , आपण मानव काहीच शिकलो नाहि….

The green lady  in her blossoming days, budding and flowering copiously thanks to the  nectar of Ma Earth Vasundhara, rich in growing nutrients, disseminated  faithfully by the thrilled branches and leaves and lo behold, a gaggle of golden beauties , adorning the green palace like  princesses of the realm.  Some leading the parade in full bloom  all by themselves, some a bit diffident, loving safety in numbers and bunching together in groups; some responsible blooms,  taking immature young ones, under their beautiful wings, while some stubborn young ones insisting on facing the world all by themselves. Remembering Ma Vasundhara and what she taught: Each has come to the earth predestined; The blooming of one  cannot be troubling to another, they must nurture slow bloomers like siblings  with great care,  and your size and appearance doesn't give you extra power,  but more responsibility to spread the fragrance  of life  where a deficit exists. Sometimes, one wonders, if homo sapiens simply missed out  on all this......

One More Item Number....

  My friend Prasad Paranjape, on a visit to the Royal Safari Camp at Sasan Gir in Gujarat, clicked these views of a Water Lilly  and the bugs making merry inside it, somewhere  amidst a body of water in the Sanctuary.    The brilliant colors and shapes kept reminding me of movie sets, more so of the Bollywood type, with over-the-top colors and wild item numbers choreographed amidst it all .   Sometimes , I guess Nature emulates Man ?    

 

कुणा एका आकाशातील कुशल दिग्दर्शकाने उभारलेला उदयपुरच्या पाण्यातल्या महलासार्खा उत्तुंग जाम्भ्ळा सेट , त्यात नारिंगी रंगाचे खांब, आणि त्यावर झेंड्या सारखे फ़ड्फ़ड्णारे असंख्य जांभळे पुंकेसर , आणि मधेच विशाल अशी सोनेरी रंगभूमी . एक भारदस्त कामेरा वाला येतो काय , भिंग मागे पुढे करतो काय, आणि मनाच्या पटलावर काहीतरी उमटते काय …. तीन चार भुंगे आणि गांधीन्माश्या मात्र त्याला बघून आपले आयटेम सॉंग करण्यात रंगभूमीवर गुंग असतात......

Amazing film sets designed by Some One Up There, reminiscent of the Lake Palaces of Udaipur, royally vastly purple, orange pillars righteously supporting, so many purple stamens waving like flags in the wind, creating an imposing golden stage for performances of Life. And then what do you say when someone arrives with a Camera, slides lenses around, and creates something unforgettable on the mind screen.... A couple of moths and bees sense the lens, and break into an item number for the Cinema of Life...

The Short and Stout Teapot ......

My blogfriend Ernestine , from the Southeastern US, has a wonderful blog called My Journey to Mindfulness.   

As a young person close to 80,  and after having lived a very busy life multitasking in the business world, she now lives on farmland, in the woods, with her pet dog Callie, her wonderful vegetable and flower garden, her memories , and her books.

She recently invested in a Kitchenaid food processor , she says "it is her color..."  and wonders if she was better off with her hand mixer.

While one goes through similar moments, one cannot help notice the giant tea cup shaped container that comes with the Kitchenaid machine  and sits on her kitchen counter, coincidentally , next to a tea kettle  :-)

 At the end of the day, it is about us simple types, and the newfangled powerful ones......

On a cold day
by the woods,
the Cuisinart kettle,
in old shining silver,
sits on the counter,
dedicated to the beverage
warming inside,
its spout
in wordless request,
beseeching the new kitchen aid.



"I know you are BIG,
you are powerful,
you knead,
but you don't need my hands,
you mix,
at a speed that flummoxes me,
but would you
please push that huge teacup
this side,
so I can pour Ernestine
a wonderful hot cup
of mint tea ?"

A swirl of steam from the spout,
and the kettle sighs.

How do you get
powerful types to listen ?