Ah those memories. They invade my mind, every moment of my present.I am sure you will wonder who is my lifelong love. Be patient. Keep listening.

The earliest I could remember of how my lovestory began, was not exactly prepossessing. Bland and dull it looked. It felt squishy. It did not have a particular smell. I did not like it but I had no option at that time. I had to eat whatever that was forced into my mouth. I could only make screwed up faces as my mom forced the wheat-egg based stuff (ugh) into my feeble mouth. I was forced to swallow the muck they called Porridge. I spat the whole thing out. And giggled. My mom said “Oh so naughty, my cutie”. I could only reply by a squeal and throwing my whole dish down with a wave of my chubby little arm. I hated it. She thought I was just being cute. Oh grown ups!

I hated it every day. My parents thought I was just acting up. Guests said, “oh what an utterly adorable baby . Porridge of all shapes and colours. But nothing could make me love it. I was a sad little one.

Then one fine day, life became a little shade brighter. I was introduced to this new thing consisting of grains. I could pick it in my fingers and play around with it..it smelt nice..my nostrils tickled, I smelt it deeply. It felt good. I put a few grains in my mouth. It was nice. Yum. Yum. I chomped. Dropped a few more. Later, I learnt that the taste I enjoyed was that of salt. It was rice. MMM. Now that is lovely, I thought. I smiled in delight. And I tried to wave my hand to tell my mom, I want more. But She thought I did not want it ?.. I yelled..i screeched..instead of giving me more, she took it away. I wondered, why are parents so strange?

My love for food took on a stronger note from now on. I ate more. I became chubbier. I loved rice. I would scream with joy when the smells of cooking would come. I would come toddling to the kitchen to get some tidbits. Slowly, my parents started developing some measure of sense in understanding my needs.

Slowly I got introduced to adult food. I felt proud and important. Rice and curry was the dish, in those days. With curd. My mom was awesome. Her excellent culinary skills helped in strengthening my love for viands.

Then came Sugar. Now that was the turning point of my life. I had progressed from a hater of food to a calm enjoyer of food. But now I became a fanatic. Some kind uncle left me a bar of chocolate. I tried it. It was Heaven. Divine. I closed my eyes and felt ecstacy. It was addictive. O-La Laa!

My attachment to food was deepening. And it showed in my body. I grew. In height. And in weight.

And so the journey of a gourmand continued. As I grow older, and could eat with hands fork and spoon, I was able to enjoy the delights of a drumstick, a fish fillet. I could enjoy the luscious cheese on a pizza ( let me talk of this on another day!), I would love to gorge into a cup of noodles, made the Indian way. I would slurp on the sambar and rasam. I would wade like a dying fish into a mound of chaapthis. I discovered the pleasures of chomping on cheese.

I was now in a passionate relationship with food.

And time took its own time. I went to many places. Met my love in various forms, in various languages. Unknown to me, I never knew I will end up in the kingdom of food lovers, Singapore. What a blessed luck which brought me here. A gourmand’s ultimate destination. Here I could see food of all kinds everywhere in stalls screaming out to me, invitingly. East, west, north, south..Here I could see fellow food lovers eating at all times of day. Here I enjoyed and discovered the fineness of Chinese food and how to use chopsticks..of laksa, chicken rice, otak otak..and so on. Here, I discovered steamboats and yu sheng, you name it..it was there..

I realized that I have attained Nirvana as far as food is concerned. Me and my love. A gourmand’s Nirvana.

Image copyright: belongs to respective owners. Images via google !

The aggressive and invasive Chinese action had been dumbly brushed off as ‘localised issues’by our over nonchalant ministers. The result is the Increased Chinese belligerance and absolute refusal to step back from their encroachment. The flagmarches have failed. On the other hand, Chinese is adding more fuel to the fire, by asking India to remove its observation post in the area, before they agree to any fruitful discussion on this volatile issue. This observation post helps India monitor the Chinese troops movement. Obviously, this will be detrimental to Indian interests, and so there there may be a logjam here. Basically, the message being sent out by the Chinese, is that We will agree to nothing but our demands. The situation has threatened India’s hold over 450 sq km of area in Ladakh and has seriously put the bilateral ties in danger.

A dangerous situation which is already going out of control. It raises many important issues.
1. The lack of a strong, tough talking government is causing a lot of damage to indian polity and its defence needs. The govt needs to pull up its socks. But is it too late for it, I wonder?
2. The need for a long term focussed, and tough approach to rein in China. Knee jerk responses are not good enough. And being scared of a bully is just not good enough anymore. Tolerance is not the answer to a bully.
3. Looking at the scale of controversies in which the indian govt is currently immersed in, which enemy would not take advantage of the situaiton as China is doing currently? Does the indian govt not see the pathetic image, they are sending out to the rest of the world?
4.India needs to send out a very strong message to China. They have to hit them where it hurts. As some were saying, hit their business interests. Indian proactiveness is partly responsible for the Chinese aggressiveness. But the Chinese have to learn to not bully other countries. So we need to be proactive.

Let us see what is going to happen in the days ahead.One can only hope, that the ostrich, which is the indian govt, raises its head from the sand, and take effective and concrete action to prevent further worsening of the situation.

60 years ago today, Watson & Crick proposed a structure for DNA in @naturemagazine. #DNAday j.mp/17VfRB5 twitter.com/noahWG/status/…

— Noah Gray (@noahWG) April 25, 2013

In a huge loss to the carnatic music fraternity, Shree Lalgudi, eminent violinist and creator of the “Lalgudi” style of music passed away yesterday, joining the stars above. He comes from the lineage of Sri Thyagaraja. Amongst his many talents, which included lyrics, expression, versatility, Lalgudi style, his adeptness at playing,   he was famous also as a composer for his Thillanas. Thillanas are very tricky compositions, used for dances, and includes many tala steps, and very delightful to listen to.

An extremely versatile and creative genius, from Trichy, he has accompanied many great artistes like GNB,M. Santhanam, Madurai Mani Iyer. His children are also eminent musicians in their own right.. One of his students is eminent musician Bombay Jayashree.

Some of his renditions are below:

Mokshamugalada ~ Ragam Saramathi ~

Thillana in Yamunakalyani

I sorely regret not having listened to him more.. May his soul rest in peace..

Image courtesy of : http://almostsunday.blogspot.sg/2010/09/happy-birthday-maestro-jayaraman.html

Carpark in front of entrance to the hiking trail

OUr birdwatching group

hiking trail ..stopping, watching, waiting

A little resident

The beautiful Singapore Quarry

Wild Orchid saying hello

View of the old Bukit Timah Railway Bridge

Had to leave very early in the morning by 630 am to reach by 730 am. It seems, ideally the best time for birdwatching is as early as possible in the morning, preferably between 500 to 700 am. When it is quiet, cool, dawn is breaking. plus it is good to have very high quality binoculars ( which is dampening for me as of now) to really enjoy this.  Even, if you don’t have,  you can always enjoy birdwatching in the company of an experienced person and even if that is not there, just enjoy with what you can. More importantly, enjoy the soul enriching experience of being one with nature. Snacks and water must be carried. Dark clothing should be worn in order not to distract our feathered friends. And respect them by being silent, in order for you to see them in their glory.

A nice, slow walk along this jungle hiking trail full of luscious rainforest. Along the way, we stop to listen to bird calls, identify the location of the birds and track them with our binoculars. It requires a lot of patience. And a lot of muscle stretching especially the muscles of the neck and the back. And the muscles of the eyes when one is peering continuously through the binoculars. And thus I learn, that it builds endurance, patience.  But looking at a bird continuously is infinitely more rewarding than looking at a smartphone. Birdwatchers also use a device called scope which they can set up and observe the bird, without shaking. I use my eyes, my neck, my legs, my mind, my concentration powers, my heart , my competitive spirit, and my curiosity to discover my targets. My guides are very experienced and their love for what they do is very infectious. I discover that a single bird can make many different types of calls.

My ears learn to listen more sharply as I try to make out the different sound textures amongst the cacophony.  My eyes learn to watch out for movements in the greenery. I become a jungle denizen as i immerse in nature to observe them. I learnt about many birds today. Some I could see and it is exciting being able to discover one or other hidden in the trees. Amongst the birds spotted are starlings, warblers, babblers, parakeet, dove, kingfishers.

The hiking trail terminates in the beautiful, resplendent Quarry. These quarries were formerly used for cutting stone but now they have been filled with water and have become an ecosystem in their own way. Its silent splendour invites you to meditate and contemplate besides watching the nature. The wetlands have lots of koi and other fish and I was lucky to spot two monitor lizards making their way..

The trip finished in around 2 and half hours but it left me hungry for more ..including breakfast at Subways in the Rail Mall and more nature trips..

Will write more on some of the birds observed..

Just a word of advice: This movie is suitable for children and adults who love reading fairy tales/Fantasy stories/stories about magical words and watching 3D effects. If you are not fond of fantasies and magic tales, this definitely is NOT the movie for you.

The main reason why I chose to watch this movie was that this is based on one of my favorite childhood authors L. Frank Baum’s The Wizard of Oz series. I still remain fascinated by the OZ books, the characters and the myriad worlds created. Unlike the older movies of Oz, (Judy Garland and  Michael Jackson versions), this movie is a departure from the traditional version.  No matter, it still did a great job by capturing my senses and mind with wonderful animation, special effects, artistry, and with the wonderful characters.

The story revolves around how a con man Oz really transforms into a genuine and powerful Wizard. From beginning to end, the movie captivates you with the outstanding cinematography, animation, special effects, colours, great backgrounds etc.  Each of the characters dazzles in his or her role. The main character Oz is very casual, footloose, very commitment phobic and so on. His character is weak in comparison to the three female characters, the two evil witches and the good witch, Glenda.  Glenda is charming and beautiful and the very epitome of goodness. She proves to be an agent to bring out the best from Oz. The two sisters are charmingly evil in their own ways. The transformation of Theodora into  the evil one is awesome. The best characters are the monkey and the china doll. Both wonderfully created.

The scenes, the characterizations, the black and white opening sequences are wonderful. Overall, a mesmerising movie for its graphics and picturisation and maybe a tad weak on the characters.

Children will certainly love this movie.

~~~ E.E. Cummings ~~~

Yes, it takes a lot of guts and courage to learn to understand yourself and to come to terms with yourself.

It takes a lot of pain and tears and anger and hope to see what you were, what are and what you can be in the future.

It takes courage to remove the cobwebs of self absorption and see yourself, in your nudity.

It takes courage to see yourself with all your flaws and weaknesses,exposed.

It requires strength of character to love yourself with all the reality of your flaws.

It requires daring to see that you will never be the person whom You wanted to be, but the person you were meant to be.

It requires courage to forgive yourself for your faults and mistakes.

It requires courage to forgive others for their omissions.

It requires fortitude to move on.

It requires courage to maintain your freedom in the face of obstacles.

It requires  courage to hold your head high when others laugh at you.

It requires strength to stand up for yourself when the chips are down.

It requires courage to see yourself as a growing human soul, on the road of maturity.

It requires courage for the caterpillar of your lower self  to morph into the butterfly of your higher self.

It is all about courage.

Of being yourself  inspite of FEAR

In a few seconds, I was in my granma’s house. My mother’s tharavadu as we call it. Those days, it was so pristinely pure and clean and neat and tidy. The black floor would be smooth and shiny. There was not a speck  of dust. The sunlight would come filtering in through the windows, the cracks and through the doors. There was silence with the murmuring of birds outside.

All would be in the kitchen. various appetising smells would come out from the vadakkini as we call it. I loved sitting there. it was dark and shady and the smells of old things. There would be our cats and kittens. Hens may stealthily enter the vadakkini only to be shooed out.  The smell of rice cooking on the aduppu. My grandma standing there, like the queen she is. In her simple settu mundu.

These soaps were very popular in my grandma’s house. The strong fragrance would dissipate through the house. Very fresh feeling it would bring. Besides, Cinthol, Hamam and Rexona were the other soaps used. probably they had coconut or neem in it.  They were stored in a storeroom, which I would love to explore for goodies.

I just love smells and fragrances. They remind me of something or the other. see, how the use of cinthol triggered this whole scene from the recesses of my mind, where i had buried it,  over time.

Those tender days of ignorance and immaturity but with a sense of appreciation of the simple and timeless in life. Now gone by.

And to be reawakened in my heart, each time I use this soap.

Cinthol

hidden amongst the layers of dust

miles deep,

buried.

The layers of doubts created over eons

rusting wuthout interference

till its cover is removed,

slowly.

what comes out is not surprising,

nor extreme but rather pitiful,

in its looks,

suffering.

Years of negation wiped away,

with a second’s touch and tear,

on the skin,

relieved.

The naked child slips out and sways,

unaccustomed to the sunshine and the hail,

dancing uncontrollably,

it stops.

freezes and stares, quivers and shivers,

clutching itself to itself, protective of

its luxury of need,

mindful.

Golden rays play havoc on the

untouched skin warming the blood,

the twitching of fingers,

the unfocussed eyes.

I embrace the little escapee

who dared to come out of its jail,

welcome to the world,

I say.

We hold our hands, our fingers touch,

our noses meet, bodies merge

the boundaries disappear,

2 becomes 1.

And so we dance, together,

and separate, our minds and thoughts,

ever moving and changing,

in harmony.

words are formed by shapes and sounds,

Words make or break our day

Words capture our thoughts and distill them

into a little bottle to be savored and explored at leisure.

Words transmit our energy to our listeners

They are our thoughts dressed in the apparel of civilisation.

Through words, we seek to express, to state, to conquer

to persuade, to enlist, to harangue,

to love, to hate, to defy, to worship,

to reject, to accept

Words are tools of our trade

to show off our wares.

what if there were no words?

words make our world a noisy fish market,

We are immersed in words here, there and everywhere,

bouncing and rebounding against us.

what if there were no words?

Silence would be there

So meaningful, so effective, so calm and peaceful

so fair to all.

we would be like goldfish in a bowl, blowing bubbles and moving about,

in an isolated coccoon of our own.

we would breath in and out our feelings and emotions, into nothingness

would that be good? i dont know.

For the need to capture our thoughts were what first lead to words..

would it be better, if there were no need to chain these thoughts, these energy waves from the brain?

Would it better if no words, rather silence be the name of the game?

True there would be no work, no industry, no books, nothing as we know it,

no poetry, no literature, no dramas as we read it,

no news and views, no schools, no colleges.

but there would be the satisfying beauty of silence.

The bliss of being with oneself, of lacking the need to depend on others.

Silence. nothingness. merging with the air around.

When you realise, words are just a name u give to ur essence.

your essence is  much bigger than its clothes, it transcends it.

then words will take its correct position, subjugated to the

eternal silence of our soul.

(C) Jyothi Menon