Idyllic Thoughts

 When my dad died four months ago, I cried continuously for four days. I cried not just because of my love for him and the realisation that I could no longer see him, but also because I couldn't get rid of my guilt in not being there for him. My guilt trip was stronger than any other emotion then. Then my aunt, who watched me silently for four days, told me to control myself. She said my dad will not be happy if I send him off crying. She said even now, years after her husband's death, she still felt guilty about all the arguments they had; that it was guilt which makes our emotions go out of control. It was only then that I could clearly see how self-absorbed I had become, that I did not acknowledge my mother's and sister's grief. It was only then I could find the strength to take responsibility for things to be done. They both looked upto me and I was on my way to fail them by being miserable when I had to be strong. I still feel guilty, but I know now that I cannot l

ಬದುಕುಗಳು, ನೆನಪುಗಳು, ಒಳ್ಳೆತನ, ಕೆಟ್ಟತನ, ಆಸೆ, ತ್ಯಾಗ, ನೋವು, ಹಠ, ಅಹಂ, ಭಕ್ತಿ, ಧೈರ್ಯ ಎಲ್ಲವೂ ಕಾಲದ ಬಿರುಗಾಳಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಹಾರಿ ಹೋಗುತ್ತವೆ ಅಲ್ವಾ? ನಮ್ಮ ನಂತರದ ಎರಡು ಪೀಳಿಗೆಗಳು ನಮ್ಮ ನೆನಪಿಟ್ಟುಕೊಳ್ಳೋದೇ ದೊಡ್ಡದು. ಹೆಸರು ಉಳಿಯೋದು ಕೂಡ ಇತಿಹಾಸ ಬರೆಯುವವರ ಪೆನ್ನಿನ ನಿಬ್ಬಿನ ದಿಕ್ಕಿನಿಂದ ನಿರ್ಧಾರ ಆಗುತ್ತೆ. ಹಾಗಾದ್ರೆ ಈ ಬದುಕಿಗೆ ಅರ್ಥ ಏನು? 

 Death of a parent is the most unique, tragic lived experience we are subjected to, as Jordan Peterson says. The grief that seeps deep into our soul stains us forever, burns us forever. We all take life for granted, those who live for us for granted. The thought that I will no longer see, hear the person I have known since birth flits across my conscious mind, refusing to stay long because it seems quite unreal. It has not really been understood by my mind though I know the facts and I have acted accordingly for all practical purposes. There just doesn't seem to be a way out of the pain, guilt trips I take constantly or the horror of the reality I have not yet found the courage to face.

  One of the least discussed, most neglected and cloaked topics in our cultural discourse is menstruation. Since childhood, we learn to avoid the topic and skirt over it as an embarassment to be dealt with in private. In such a social scenario, 'Menstruation Across Cultures' by scholar Nithin Sridhar is one of the most important books in today's literary circles that should be read by all Indians -- men and women, Hindus and non-Hindus -- so that one of the most basic misconceptions in the Indian psyche can be dispelled. It will make further discourses on a variety of associated social issues like entry to temples like Sabarimala and others by women of menstruating age, more knowledgeable and logical, instead of the biased and theatrical narrative it has become.  What is inherently wrong with the Indian system of discourse about Hindu practices is that it has been painted over by non-Indic thoughts and practices which were illogical when seen through our cultural and script

Whenever we read an author for the first time, we are curious to see if the book caters to our pre-conceived expectations about the author's work. Ashwin Sanghi is well known for his thrillers mixed with mythology, history along with political twists and turns. His book 'The Vault of Vishnu' reads on well as a thriller interlinked with Indian history. However, for readers who grew up on western thrillers and expect the fast pace of such a genre, some sections become a bit of a drag.  My interest was piqued when I saw that the Chinese monk Xuanzang's journey to India was similar to that of the book 'Journey to the West,' the serialised Chinese version I had seen long ago and loved. The author's narration of the monk's journey is interesting. However, a good thriller seems to be lost among a huge amount of research. I feel the mention and explanation of the places which the monk visited during his journey were not necessary in so much detail in a thriller.

Mom has a beautiful green thumb. Sometimes I think if she has some land of her own, she can grow an Eden -- complete with an apple tree -- and live happily among the plants.  A musk melon grown on her terrace.

 The Meaning of India: A Review The West sees the world in black and white, whereas India has many colours and shades, making it difficult for outsiders to truly ‘see’ India. Raja Rao’s collection of essays, ‘The Meaning of India,’ explains and explores India beyond the ‘good and evil’ concept of the West. The Introduction gives an unknown insight into the life and thoughts of Raja Rao, but seems a bit lengthy wherein it fails to hold the reader’s interest till the end. Essays on Nehru and Mahatma Gandhi give an interesting, parallel view of India’s history under the British rule. Though sometimes the reader feels slightly disappointed at the author’s climbing of the mountain of adulation, albeit hesitant, towards Nehru and his ‘extraordinary’ qualities, in some places Raja Rao subtly disagrees with Nehru’s worldly viewpoint that seems to reject the traditions and history deeply entwined with Vedic and Buddhist philosophy. The author also explains why Gandhi failed in becoming a pr

 A closed mind is a dark place. It doesn't let in even a sliver of light. As a result, it cannot see the cobwebs spreading inside. For years, it has barred fresh air, light and has forgotten that they exist.  It doesn't know that the air and light can change it, it's perspective, it's beauty, clarity and form. I think the mind which is closed has no idea that another, different world exists outside it. A world which is beautiful and free. A world which brings new thoughts, new experiences.