Tuesday, August 29, 2006 ||
12:14 AM ||
Tuesday, August 22, 2006 ||
1:51 PM ||
Sunday, August 13, 2006 ||
12:35 AM ||
Monday, August 07, 2006 ||
3:45 PM ||
Wednesday, August 02, 2006 ||
10:11 AM ||
There are times, when one surprises oneself...huh?
Diffident moments gradually give way to defiant minutes and hours. As another long drawn night gets ready to dawn, as the forced-shut eyes twitch and burn; he tosses and turns about on his bed, with a frantic craving to have a long-lost dream. And then, the soothing strains of a lilting lullaby gently stream across from a desire land...
Originally sung by the inimitable KJ Yesudas, and set to tune by Ilayaraja, this sensational song from the haunting cinematic experience ~ Sadma, has remained dear to Indian music lovers all across the world.
Do listen to my version here! :)
Disclaimer: If under grave circumstances, any of my listeners who have had no previous record of insomnia, develop sudden conditions of sleeplessness after listening to my croak, I may not, in any way be held responsible for the unprecedented aftermath!! ;) :)
A Tale of Two Tags.
" A Tale of Two Tags
I have been amiably tagged by two of my dearest pals – Kathy and Priya – and I thought of merging these remarkable tags together, and coming up with a prudent post that should hopefully set me out of my self-imposed hibernation , (no) thanks to my research work. Priya’s tag requires me to diligently delve into a few aspects of my own self, where as Kathy’s, wants me to come up with five quotes that should positively state a lot about my life. Sorry if its going to be all about me!! Here goes!
I am thinking about: October 2. Not only because it’s Gandhi Jayanthi, but coz, it’s the day when I need to finally submit my thesis. :o
I said: something to my Supervisor just a few moments back that I wish I hadn’t. A temper ruins everything. (Sigh!) :(
I want to: tonsure my head some day. Just for fun. :)
I wish: at times, that we had solutions too, and not just problems. :(
I wonder: how still it would be in some place of the world, where the humans have not yet trodden; where peace prevails, where a lazy breeze blows for its own sake. :?
I regret: not having worked really, really harder, when I had more time and space around me. :(
I hear: Pradip’s melodious voice streaming across, as my fingers key these letters down. :)
I am: what I am. Period. :P
I dance: when I am in an absolutely euphoric mood, despite a tricky knee that forever holds a promise of throwing up nasty surprises on me. :)
I sing: all the time. You would rarely catch me without a song on my lips. :)
I cry: once in a while, when the going gets real tough. And then the toughie-me gets going. ;)
I am not: easily swayed by assumptions and presumptions. I prefer to have a stand of my own. :)
I make with my hands: the best paper boats that have ever been made on earth. Sadly, that’s as far as I can get. :) I do cook, though.
I write: on almost anything, from the silliest, crappiest kind to the slightly more discernible stuff. :)
I confuse: the smallest of numbers, and mess up the silliest of calculations. :o
I need: BREATHING SPACE. And of course, as the rest of the world does, mental peace. :)
And my favorite, random quotes are:
“One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure its worth watching.” ~ Anon.
“Just because nobody complains doesn't mean all parachutes are perfect.” ~ Benny Hill.
“Happiness is not the absence of problems, rather the ability to deal with them.” ~ Anon.
“I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.” ~ Oscar Wilde.
“Life is what happens to you, while you are busy making other plans!” ~ John Lennon.
Thats about it. Let me now have the pleasure to pass these tags on to six of my friends, who haven’t been hopefully tagged by this one before. Iris, Matt, Deepak, Gaurav, Constance, & Jasim, would you guys care to take up the honor, please?
Reality Check.
" Reality Check
Ever since I decided to do my Ph.D on Calligraphy and its instructional practices, I became a vociferous reader of anything that even remotely smelt of Handwriting. I soon became busy with preparing instructional models, that would finally set forth the ‘much-awaited’ celestial fusion of music and handwriting instruction, and remained all too concerned about the intricate technicalities that any instructor would be bothered about – perfect body postures, impeccable paper positions, fine finger movements, accurate shoulder tilts, flawless chair arrangements, ideal writing instruments, coarse erasures, gross malformations, deviant letter reversals and what not. I was damn sure though, that I would make a difference.
And the future seemed all too bright, when after traveling a good couple of hours from Trivandrum city, I found myself face-to-face with the Head of a Government Lower Primary Tribal School. Located amidst thick lush greenery, the school remained isolated from the rest of the world, situated way inside a forest tribal settlement at Palode, abuzz with cicadas. A long narrow hall divided into four, by cardboard separators; made up the classrooms for Grades 1 to 4, at the end of which the Headmistress, along with her meager teaching staff of three, put up a brave front, to ensure that her petite school community of less than a fifty children, benefited perhaps a little more than the midday meals for which they turned up without fail, learned the alphabet and numerals in the process, and diligently saw to it that the alarming drop-out rates remained minimal.
I had painfully selected the Music of the Seas, one of Bhaskar Chandavarkar’s compositions to set the paradisiacal scene for my experimental study, since I felt the Sitar would work wonders on my subjects. Which was when I realized that the basic amenities for teaching handwriting - a pencil and a sheet of paper – were something that my students are not too familiar with. I had to cast aside my musical aspirations for the moment, and provide them with these and more, if I were to introduce them to the miraculous swoops and whirls of the English alphabet. I couldn’t be too concerned about class lighting or furniture, because there wasn’t any to start with. I had to grapple with a few other bottle necks, that I never knew would lie in store for me. Even as I held their frail fingers to aid them form their first ‘A’ ever, they whispered to me that they haven’t had their breakfast, and were fervently waiting for noon – Couldn’t all this writing wait?. It was only when I saw for myself, a shack that somehow managed to stay up on its own, that he called ‘my home’, that I sensed it wasn’t fair on my part to have blamed him, for having torn the books that I had bought him. I got to know that it was a bit too demanding to give them lectures on cleanliness, when most of them had barely a scrap to cover themselves up with.
It was an absolutely different world out there, and for once, I saw the stunning absurdity of it all. Slouched on the bare floor, beside them, I could see the bizarre forms that they made on the paper, better. The recorder that had long lost its purpose lay abandoned; the never-tiring cicadas took its place. Postures and tilts went for a royal ride. Chaos and cacophony ruled the roost. And at the end of it all, they proudly proclaimed that they have mastered English. The proof lay in the flourishing scribbles on the soiled sheets, for all to see!
Boys Dont Cry.
" Boys Dont Cry
Among the many things that are supposedly unmanly, amidst anguish and pain, lies an emotion called fear. There is something universal about manliness that solidly suggests that boys dont cry. Nor do they fear. Panic, horror and alarm are words that you are very unlikely to find in the Dictionary For Real Men. Death, loneliness, disease and hurt cease to leave an impact on them. Authentic men hypothetically exist in a vacuum of sorts, that sets them conspicuously apart from the other sex; the allegedly delicate, brittle and fragile species that they call women. ;) :)
Supposedly.
Some of my memories are associated with a cousin of mine being brutally reprimanded for having unashamedly broken down in front of his friends, despite his being a boy. I told myself that I was not to follow his example, if I were to become a man some day. A few years later, happily basking in the glory of having discovered my adulthood, one fine morning I realized with absolute terror, that a sensation that they casually refer to as dread, dwelled deep within me somewhere. I was essentially capable of fearing something; on retrospect, many things ranging from shaggy spiders to large vacant spaces to god alone knows what else! It did not comfort me one bit that I was a certified hypochondriac who could actually shed a few tears as well!!
Until I grew up, and finally realized that all is well with the world, and I am as normal as I could possibly get to be. :)
Sometimes it seems very amusing and absurd to conform to the societal norms that are expected of a man. When a student of mine subtly hints that he wants to have a heart to heart talk, I know what lies in store. Biting lips, quenching fists and vacant stares finally give way to sobs and sniffles, as I shrug and suggest that crying probably is not such a bad idea, after all. It has been years since I did that, is an oft heard post counseling comment. Some even unabashedly request not to let the word out. As he goes back to the world, regaining his lost dignity and the ideal poise, I often find him pacifying himself with playing the man role to perfection yet again and promising himself and the rest of the planet; that he would never ever cry again.
trivial trivia.
" trivial triviaTen Top Trivia Tips about Velu Nair!
so, what are YOU?
;)