FOR THAT SMILE

                 

                 

" Oh, mother earth are you infuriated or oppressed?

   Why your own land has become so deplorable?

   Why are children and old groaning in agony?

   Why is the swill of floodwaters making everyone thirsty?

   Why are foods and farms under your gnawing teeth?

   Is the endless deluge is nothing but your rage?

   Or is that we have done something blasphemously wrong?"

  I am sure these words must be pounding in every person's head in GOD'S OWN COUNTRY.

The Malabar Coast of the nation, kissed by the Arabian Sea, sprinkled with palm-lined beaches, backwater, mountains and spice plantations are panting for breath. All this happened in the month of the ONAM...the harvest festival of the state! But what are we reaping this year?  Pain, misery, distress, hopelessness and above all homelessness.

Now that the Kerala flood has been declared as 'SEVERE CALAMITY' funds are pouring in from around the world. Nevertheless, the deluge-ravaged Kerala doesn't need rehabilitation it needs a rebuild. And the courage and resilience of our fellow countrymen can reassemble and reconstruct Kerala in a better manner, I am sure of that. But keeping in view the intensity and magnitude of the floods and landslides in Kerala, the funds needed for this elephantine task is colossal.

The political tussles are on one side and harsh realities on the ground on another. Some authorities say we want to donate others say we don't want to accept. NDRF has released 600 crores, but much more is needed to accomplish, recondition and rehabilitate GOD'S OWN COUNTRY.

We as a humble citizen can contribute too, even if it's a drop in the ocean.  Dears,   'little by little fills the pot'!  And donation in kind and cash are the best options (donating your old clothes and shoes and earning some dharam-karam is a big NO in the name of contribution).

And, we are in no dearth of inspiration for the same:

An expectant mother’s water bag burst - a life she was nurturing for the months in her womb was in danger. She survived and gave birth to a baby boy after being airlifted. Contribute for many such lives those were ushered into this world in such grave conditions and have no home to go back.

A months old child whose mother kept her in the vessel to float above the water at the mercy of water gods. She might have been rescued, but she has to live beyond this.

                                                     

For the elderlies who are almost in the last leg of their lives and of course didn't deserve to see this anticlimax on the peaceful piece of land.

                                               

To appreciate the stellar contribution of Indian forces, to adore their valour and sense of duty. This one picture portrays the commitment and dauntlessness of our Jawans. Contribute to make their efforts more meaningful.

                                       

                                                                       

  SALAM as a salutation for the hundreds of NGOs who worked day and night selflessly. They can only spread their wings only if we contribute generously.

                                                                       

For all the mothers and fathers, who have spent sleepless nights so that their children can sleep peacefully. Let's become benefactors for such mothers so that they can also catch a few peaceful hours of sleep. 

A big shout-out for all the volunteers you have worked relentlessly for the welfare of distressed people, unperturbed.

                               

             

And last but not the least, a homage to all the pandits, priests and Maulvis, who rose above the religion, caste and creed to show respect towards the humanity. Out of the catastrophic episode, if something has shown the ray of hope, it is the reflection of unity and integration. This indeed calls for a celebration in the otherwise fractured nation.

                                                                  

                                                   

 However, if none of the above motivates you, look at the million-dollar smile of this gentleman. His livelihood (probably) on his shoulder and a complacent smile on his face when he is deep down in the water will surely make you think... ‘We can still celebrate life’.

                                               

   

   

OUR CRUMBLING HERITAGE

Last week Karnataka's political drama beguiled us all! The elements of the drama were bizarre, and the characters were taken to refuge from one place to another.
By chance, we checked in the same hotel - in Hyderabad - where the puppetish characters were rehearsing their next scene. My husband and I were delighted by the fact that we might witness people moving in and out with black briefcases. Nevertheless, we couldn't see any of it as, by the time we reached the hotel, they were deported back to Karnataka.

However, my zest to explore the antiques of the city of Nizams kept me going. When I started digging into the history of 'Hyderabad', I found out that the city of Hyderabad was born out of love - the love of gusty Muslim prince, Muhammad Quli Qutab for a young Hindu courtesan  Bhagmati. He was so enamoured of her beauty and voice that he would ride to the village of Chichalam across the river Musi, to meet her beloved. When his father Sultan Ibrahim heard about his alliance with a Hindu girl, he was devastated, but later relented and constructed the  Purana Pul - a massive stone bridge so that his son can reach to his beloved easily.

After ascending the throne, prince defied all the traditions and married Bhagmati. In 1951, he laid the foundation of a new city which he named 'Bhagnagar' after his beloved queen. And, Bhagmati embraced Islam and changed her name to Hyder Mahal and Bhagnagar was renamed Hyderabad after that.

Isn't this Hindu-Muslim love saga a motivational tale in this much-polarised phase of our country?  Do name and religion are over and above the humanity? Or the politicians are juggling 'casteism', 'religionism', 'states' like tangerines in their hands to lure the floating voter.

Anyhow, me and my little bub, far too innocent to understand all this, started to explore the next day and landed at THE FALAKNUMA PALACE.  (also called as 'the mirror of the sky' and now, The Taj Falaknuma). The majestic building took our breath away. One-thirty-four years old pristine-white palace still stands taller than the palace of  Versailles. Then why after more than a century we are failing to construct sturdy flyover bridges or buildings which keep collapsing now and then?
Regardless of technology and delicate machinery probably sincere intention is missing!
Though we left the palace after a couple of hours, the grandeur and opulence travelled along.

Before retiring to bed, I narrated the story of CHARMINAR to my bub, that the King of Hyderabad nearly 527 years ago, knelt and prayed to ALLAH to end the epidemic - plague. Miraculously after a few days, the disease ebbed.

To celebrate the end of plague and to thank the almighty he erected the majestic structure at the very point where he knelt. The grand edifice - a melody set in concrete -  is still trying hard to sing a rhapsody of its past.

The story ended, and we went to the see the alluring beauty the next day. It was around nine in the evening - a month of Ramzan - Lad Bazar effervesced with the food and ITTAR. My bub and I swarmed through the burka-clad women, men and children to reach near the CHARMINAR.

Alas! All the sprightliness faded as we approached near the CHARMINAR - it was crowded with all sort of peddlers - selling Chinese goods around the inspired piece of architecture.  The structure was not even cordoned off. One of the MINAR was covered with the grubby green cloth - trying to hide its falling grace. I looked at the monument with bleary eyes!
Every time I see our golden heritage - abandoned, fragmented and ripped - I feel robbed!

Sometime back I visited one the oldest fort of India, Ranthambore Fort. An approximately 1300years old fort was in shambles - walls scribbled with chalks - women washing clothes is 1300 old HAMAM, after being declared as world UNESCO site.
Corroding TAJ MAHAL is a familiar story.

My little bub asked, 'So mom where did  the KING kneel exactly?'
I looked around - the chaos in and around the ailing MINAR turned me deaf and dumb. I snapped, 'It's late now - let's go back to the hotel. '
But are we late to save our heritage? I thought. And, then I thought - one or two black briefcases could save our splendid allegorical monuments. 

But would anyone like to woo these monuments? That is a question of concern.

Baba Black sheep!

                                               

Baba Black sheep have you any wool?

No girl! No girl, for I am a wolf.

I am not blindfolded, and I am not  a fool,

Baba Black sheep you are not a wolf!

Oh, girl! Oh, girl! If I am not a wolf,

Let's go into the den and let me give you wool!

Baba black sheep you are copious and warm,

Oh! Baba Black sheep, I love your charm.

Oh, girl! Oh, girl! Are you captivated by my charm?

Shoo away now, or you will crumble down.

Yeah, I am blindfolded, and I am a fool.

 You are not a Black sheep, but you are a wolf!

  Oh, girl! Oh, girl! Yeah, I am a wolf :)

 - Amita Thakur Dogra

NIRABHAYA

                 

Winds were brazen; clouds were dark.

The crisp wintry night that was!

But my spirit was sprightly, buoyant and czar.

My bosom friend's warm embrace was ajar.

We joyously hopped onto a bus. 

We sizzled and giggled, losing ourselves in each other's warmth.

We cared a little who was in and around.

But we realised very soon,

hawks and vultures; beasts and goons were floating around.

My bosom friend tried to shoo them away,

Instead, he fell prey to their hawkish eyes.

Vultures ripped my body; beasts gashed my soul apart.

Goons hurled us out of the bus; naked, bruised and agape.

We cried we bled, almost till our last breaths.

After five years of the barbaric and devilish act,

I heard they are going to be hanged to death. 

One vulture, one hawk; one beast and a goon,

will go away from this earth very soon.

What about the looming hawkish spirits?

Can you hang and bury them forever? 

Till then I am not - 'Nirbhaya.'

Purple Pulp!

PURPLE PULP!

I was green, my greenery gave solace to everyone.

For a while, my foliage was enough to bring radiance and luminance on everyone's face.

I tried hard to serve propitiously!

                          ****

I was pink, my pinkness took over greens and blues. 

My pinkness made everyone blush and flush. 

I was gazed upon with love and lust. 

I was kept tight - high and low, far and wide.

Till recently a purple tide came, I became an eyesore for everyone.

I was abandoned, I was burned, I was molested and deserted.

                            ****

I am Purple, I am rhetoric and grandiloquent.

I know I am acting bit pricey right now. 

It's only my final effort to tell you all .....

Usher me tenderly, love me honestly, place me where I belong to.

'Bhaioon aur Bahno' - I don't want to be pegged out like pink !!!

Happier Heart :)

World Heart Day

In a coldhearted world, today we dedicate the day to our tiny little 'heart'!

The heart is a biological organ, assigned to a human body for pumping blood to all the parts of our body. Till the time we are alive its performing its job sincerely. But are we sincere to this small little muscular mass?

Cardiac diseases are taking a maximum number of lives, BP is the most common ailment. And angioplasty and by-pass surgeries are most fashionable surgeries of all. 

Have you ever tried to hear the thumping beats of your heart? If not, please understand it now! How rhythmic and in sync it is with your body and soul. But we are totally out of sync with it, we do everything that goes absurdly against its wishes. 

Show us Indian sweets, Cholle-Bhatture, starchy oily food and our taste buds start dancing against the melody of our heart beat!  Let heart skip a beat or two, but taste buds should quench the thirst first. 

Food is not only one of its foes, but our lazy genes are even bigger culprits to take away its strength. Blame on to the genetic composition or our upbringing; we are comfort lovers, and nothing can prevail over our comfort zone. Physical exercise is our last priority, our mind does excessive manipulation how to avoid it. Summers are too hot, winters are too cold, autumn is full of dust and spring is full of allergies! We have all the lame excuses to give to our heart when it asks for some 'cardio'. But poor thing beats in all the seasons 'lub-dub-ta'   in tandem. 

Food, genes and third is the stress which is the enormous threat to our tiny red little thumping organ. Stress gives it all sort of wrong signals, continuously tries to kill its harmony and peace. And ultimately disturbs its melody and puts it on the nodes of BP pills.  

But what is this stress? In this competitive,  ambitious and lusty world, stress comes as a package. It runs parallel with all our desires. Right from a school going child to a grandparent everyone is suffering from some or other level of stress. The stress of achieving, the stress of competing, stress of outshining and blah, blah, blah; plethora of pressures puts a mega stress on our heart. Poor muscular bag beats along with extra pressure nevertheless.

But how long and how far? Can we do something to be its good companion?

Can we do something to ease its journey? Can we fine tune its melody?

Yes, by all means, we can!

We Indians can rejoice our food as much as we want, our food is the most healthy and nutritious in the whole world. We only have to be wise enough to pick and choose our food according to our lifestyles. Should stop having fast-food and shall switch to homemade food as much as we can. 

We are the luckiest to be born in this country, where nature showers all its shades in abundance. We see the sunshine round the year; rain snow and wind spurt out their colours off and on. Ever weather adds our health and body. We should use most of it. Walk in the sun, walk in the rain feel the wind and if you are lucky enough witness the snow as well. Play like a child and let your heart feel young again.

Stress it the most serious issue to be dealt with. We call it 'stress full times'; but times are same its our thought process which has filled the vacuum with stress. Live in the moment, do your best, try to be selfless and breathe out to let go! Stress may go as well. 

No two individuals are same. No two hearts are same, no two minds are same, so lets stop ourselves comparing to hundreds and thousands.

Its our life lets live it our way! Its our heart let it beat its own way! Lets just try to be in sync with it, this is best we can do to make it stronger and happier :)

Happy Heart day indeed!

Homage to Pullela Gopi Chand !

                                   

He was meant for some sport, he figured out early in life. 

He fell in love with shuttle and racquet in no time.

His soul was trapped inside the walls of the court.

He leapt and bounced at the tune of his coach. 

Collected used shuttles from every corner of the world to attain new heights at every shot.

For he could not afford to use the new shuttle for every practice game!

He lived like a hermit for the love of medals.

But instead of medals life put him on crutches.

He crumbled for a while, but the desire to be donned with tricolours kept him alive.

After major knee surgery, he conquered all the major tournaments in the world.

He missed out so desirous Olympic medal.

He promised himself he would get it one day.

He did it not once but twice.

He was compared to Dronacharya - while Dronacharya took away Eklavaya's thumb, he took away billions of hearts!