The cool breeze that gently caressed me past waking me up from the slumber to see a sleepy day still enveloped in misty darkness …

What can brew and spruce up my day in the wee hours other than this fav song of mine flowing from the walkman….

Jadu hi nasha hi…

Bathed in the cool showers nature has decked herself with an ever fresh attire….the yet to be bloomed flowers, yet to be spread fragrance of jasmine, the leaves with the drops still poising at the fringes…the birds still half awake singing...

Jadu hi nasha hi…ahhaaa

Should I leave myself lost or plunge into the hectic activities of the day waiting for me or remain here in my bed, cozy, warm, njoying this adoringly beautiful nature in front of me????

 Jadu hi nasha hi…madhuhosia ahhaaa

 

Wish you all a jadufull weekend…

Do you know what happens to Deepu when he goes to bed as early as 10.30 pm? Well, he too is in oblivion. It feels like a millennia before he comes ‘alive’. What is going on during those moments of silent raptures?

Complete nothingness, up above, lost on oneself, so sweet and beautiful experience. Sleep is so coooool naa?

Yes, the occasional dreams lift me up to a reality of dreams, give me a glimpse and foretaste of being lost forever in the dreamy reality. Those compelling moments of trespassing into a new horizon from this world of mine open the vista of unlimitdness.

Finitude becomes sth of human.

Ever envisaged those fractions of seconds that lull you to the depths of unconsciousness’’ laps?

From the real to the unreal. Or vice-versa?

From consciousness to the unconsciousness. Or vice-versa?

From phenomena to the numena. Or vice-versa?

From rationality to empiricism. Or vice-versa?

From activity to rest. Or vice-versa?

From day to dream. Or vice-versa?

 

I think, I should better not to go to bed so early…

 

 There was uproar when I wrote sth ‘for the young woman’. So I thought, I would make an attempt ‘for the young man’. Certainly, I am aware of the dry, defunct, dull and narrow tunnel I am heading to.

You don’t expect to pluck grapes from thistle, do you?

You don’t try to plant a rose garden in a desert, do you?

You don’t squeeze out water from dust, do you?

You don’t expect to see rainbow on a sunny day, do you?

 If you don’t expect any of these I am sure, you realize how it s to be in that tunnel! For most of the young men are like that tunnel and it would be naïve to do anything for them.

 Raw, rustic, unrestricted energy flowing in you keep you always upbeat and eccentric. In a state of orgy and blindness of youth, you become a dipsomaniac at the sight of a young beauty failing to realize that “She is the earth raised to life’s summit, the earth become sensitive and joyous; and without her for man the earth is mote an dead” writes Michel Carronyes.

You function with your right brain and logical, analytical, active, independent, prose and monotonous.

Depending on moments of joy, sorrow, ecstasy, loneliness, satisfaction, pleasure, hatred, fulfillment, anger a woman become for you, eve, idol, mother, virgin, sister, sweet heart, falsehood, silence, truth, sorceress, witch, prey, angel, wife, pearl, artifice….

There is an aura of heavenly serenity and vicious circle of enigma around her. “To be a woman, says Kierkegaard, “is something so strange, so confused, so complicated that no one predicate comes near to express it and that the multiple predicate that one would like to use are so contradictory that only a woman could put up with it”.  How can you, young man then fully fathom the inner most depths and diversities of a woman; she is one and many.

Oh man! From the graveyard silence and darkness of the womb, you were brought to light of the day. Clinging to her at her bosom you gained nourishment as a kid, under her constant gaze you grew up, matured, in her caring and understanding composure you sought relief and in her incredibly alluring grip fulfillment!

When that’s the case do you see any relevance in writing anything ‘for young men’?

 

 

 

 

 

We all -human beings or animal- move towards same ocean of ungraspable depths of unknown. However, what differentiate us from other animals is that we have the freedom to live like human beings. We even can ascend ourselves to higher terrains, as Nietzsche would say. The freedom to do so lies within each one of us. Some of us are able to discover and unearth such raw potential from ourselves. But, some others continue to struggle and waggle through the lives as worms. Before taking that final plunge, we have the time and means provided to us to shape our lives. Some of us get carried away in the streams of fight, some others fail and move back, some others keep fighting without much success. But, those who persevere will sooner or later will have found the gem to live a life to the full.    

Aristotle would say, “Choice is the personal act of free will”. But can it be that we are mere instruments, like puppets acting according to the tune of some Singer. Are we just beings acting upon the will of some invisible hands of the nature? Don’t you at times think that our actions and reactions are pre-destined? Can it be that as st Augustine would say a restlessness until my soul rests in Thee. So where is free will the?

On a sojourn, just dropped in a more or less perfect form..!! is it that way?? I think that’s it. During the course of our journey, we are formed, shaped, conditioned and made into what we become. in fact thats also the view of some American sociologists like Emile Derkhim..

Who among us have not been in the dragnet of critics at least once? Well, you would never have been, if you have not ventured out into the unknown. As long as you are on an already-trodden path, nobody takes note of your presence. Even your absence goes unnoticed. However, when you are on the road less traveled by, be sure, you become the focal point of attention and side by side, you cause many a few eyebrows rise.Criticisms very seldom go down well with anyone. One critical remark and we are offended, discouraged and downcast. Even constructive criticisms turn us pale at times. Hence, pay heed to the criticisms and not to the people who make such remarks.

Don’t brush off, give a patient hearing.

Pick out points that you think will be beneficial for you.

Remember not to take each and every censure to heart.

Be flexible. Change if necessary for the better.

If you still do not want to any criticism in the words of Elbert Hubbard “do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing”.

 

Let it be the frozen, numbing peaks of the Everest,

Unknown depths of the Ocean,

No-one-could-imagine-the-surface of Moon,

Darkest and thickest of Jungles,

Ferocious wild animals.

 Everything that challenges; that gives a hair-rising experience; that brings the heart beat to a new high; that involves highest amount of risk even to life, exites men and he always cherishes them. Conquering such feats gives him a dubious gratification. The unquenchable thirst to savor the wild sweetness!

 But it's only one half.  

 Don't you think the body of a young virgin is much more mysterious and desirable, more dangerous and exhilarating?

She is the most exotic of lilies and roses, the grotto of unexplored tranquility, the undiscovered pearl on which the sun has not shown, the silent-yet-vivacious brook, the dewy morning is shy of stroking her, her graceful gait up on the lush green is mesmerizing.

My dear friends, it is the most precious, precarious, delicate gift nature has entrusted you with.

EVEN IF A SPOKEN WORD CAN BE RETRIEVED, YOU CAN NEVER RETRIVE THAT PRECIOUS GIFT OF YOURS IF YOU LOSE WHEN NOT CALLED FOR. IF YOU COMMIT YOURSELF, DO IT GRACEFULLY AND WITH ALL THE DIGNITY AND PRIDE.

 Be wise. Let prudence guide you.

"There is more promise in the untamed flow of torrents than in the waters of public fountains"— Simone De

 

 

                   
                50 years that's all what he wanted to make,

                 Never did he want to live longer than that.

                 He talked about death merrily and fooled about it,

                 Never did he realize he was afraid of death.

                Always did he boast saying I am ready to die

                 And I have no fear of death.

                 But seldom did he know each sunset

                 Brought his life closer to death.

                 And one day death came to him unexpectedly

                 Since only 25, he expressed his wish for another 25,

                 For he never expected him so early

                 And wanted to complete many tasks.

                 Some half done, some just begun he left them

                 For he thought, I have plenty of time with me?/font>

                 Utterly disappointed he cried out Ah! If only I knew

                 He would lay his icy hands so early

                 Would I have been more careful, less relaxing

 

I was just checking up in the dictionary to make sure that the meaning of the word holidays has nt changed. For me, holidays seem to be whole day doing sth or other…hmm.anyway

 

Let me get to what I want to tell you.

I was amazed, and at the same time elated too as I was standing there watching a small little girl dancing. With her beautiful hair fluttering, deep dark enchanting eyes glancing, hands waving like a magician’s wand keeping everyone spellbound and the gleeful smile, she looked angelic.

I was amazed bcoz she was dancing with boys and men of all ages. But, she wasn’t bothered by anything happening around at all as if she was in a trance. There was no sign of fatigue; she was simply going on and on…with those bubbly giggles ..ohhh…

How I wished I had a camera to capture those graceful moments.

Perhaps she was completely immersed in the spirit of Ganesh chaturti after all that was the last day of the pooja, the loud music balsting from all corners, men dancing like hell….

And I was elated beocz this was a girl doing it and not a boy. Standing there I just prayed Oh God, if only she remained a little girl and didn’t grow up to be comditioned by the rotten customs and traditions of the society and culture and became prey to the taboos.

Not surprisingly she only one of the  three girls among those dancing.

So what happens to a girl wen she grows up? Why is she caught up with a withdrawal syndrome, fear, shame? Social set up? Cultural barriers? Religious restrictions?..whatevr..

That society or culture or religion that doesn’t let its women move around freely and njoy all the freedom that boys njoy is an idiotic one, and it suffers from egocentric male megalomania

 

 

 

 

"a friend in need is a friend in deed" so they say. But this friend of mine with his trade mark 32-teeth smile and the stubby-French beard he has artfully managed on his chin, makes me feel that in deed he is friend even not in need. A simple man that you are, you have much more to give to the world, you have much more to convey to others and there is a world of your dreams to realize.

I m sure you are much more than that French beard that gives you a ha-ha-ha look! Thanks Joseph for being there, for your smile and laughter, for everything..

I hope, you too have friends who are friends indeed even when not in need.

i wonder, if he is a 'friend' all by himself !! , well thats for Kant or Shelling or Hegal to conclude....

as for me, you are a wonderful person Joseph.!!

 

Happy teachers’ day!

Love for teaching, love for learning and love for the learner is the key to becoming an efficient and admirable teacher. Apart from sticking to the academic side of teaching, teachers should be able to transform his/her students into ideal human beings. “The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires”. Well, now it is up to you dear teachers to decide in which category of William Arthur Ward you would like to see yourself!

 

Today is also the death anniversary of Mother Teresa who died on September 5, 1997. Perhaps, she was a teacher par excellent who was not teaching thru mere words, but thru her loving, compassionate deeds.

 

Today is the celebration of onam for kerilities..i think, it s wonderful day

And I wish you all the same.

                                                              

My first impulse was to knock her off my desk as she was majestically sitting there on my desk. The uninvited intruder was annoying me. As if guessing what I was up to she folded her hands as if praying to some unknown God and there she was standing still.!!! It is then that I had a closer look at this cute, peculiar thing in front of me..those slender elegant legs caught my attention. The green attire clad damsel…..oops she flew away..that was a green grass hopper…

Wherever you are dear friend, I m sure you have one or to lessons to teach others. Thank you God, I didn’t get carried away by my initial impulse….