LimerickWala: Welcome Swati

LimerickWala: Welcome Swati

Does Your Life Need Some Spice?

A certain dear friend named Ice 
Complained that her life lacked some spice 
I told her "Go see a movie
Or do something groovy
I'm sure you'll find that very nice"
.
"Or I'm always willing for a chat 
Do you think you'd like to do that?
Do you find me a bore
Then pray say no more
I'd rather know nothing of that"

Ice said she was going crazy
I didn't think she was being lazy
She really had loads of work
Which she did nothing to shirk
So I wished to make her life a bit easy.

Now I suggested "something Italian
Or maybe something completely European 
It could be a culinary blessing
With lots of salad dressing,
Be it vegetarian or non-vegetarian".

"Or how about a nice new dress 
Shopping's known to reduce stress
But make sure of the price
Don't spend thousands in a trice
Or your balance sheet would be a complete mess".

"Or how 'bout in the Bahamas a cruise, 
I hope that will certainly amuse,
A young lady who is bored,
Of being at work moored,
For a holiday she now has a ruse".

Peacocks and Their Rituals

Friends, 

While going through my collections, I found some rare videos of peacocks.  I had the good fortune of being able to witness these sights a couple of years ago.  I thought I would like to share these with you.  Would certainly appreciate your comments on these.

A PEACOCK PUTS UP A GLORIOUS DISPLAY

A

PREPARING FOR A FIGHT

MOMMA AND BABIES GO OUT FOR A WALK

The Sanity of Insanity

Are all the insane really insane
And the sane really sane?
Or is it just our imagination
Or the phases wax and wane?

I have for you just one question,
Please tell me if you can.
Who decides who is insane
And who the sane man?

If life is but an illusion,
Everything springs from our imagination,
And if living in that perpetual state is sanity
Then shouldn't we redefine insanity?

Who is to say our illusions
Are more legitimate than their delusions
Imaginations or even hallucinations?
It's all a matter of perceptions.

And if this logic we accept,
Then all are insane except 
The Old Man laughing above
While he makes us all his puppets.

If this truth we realize,
All “sane” people would be wise
Enough this simple fact to learn to accept,
No one on earth is born perfect.

So why can't we be more humane
To those the “sane” consider “insane”?
We know not when we cross the border
That should to us be pretty plain.

The line in-between is fine
We could cross over any time,
Or the border could move either way
Which side would we be on that day?

For what one sees as white
May not to another seem so bright.
He may see a shade of gray
Whose perception is right, tell me, pray?

So let's not mock at those who are yonder
But take time off the fact to ponder,
That to remain perfectly sane
We all need a streak of the insane

We need a streak of the bizarre
To keep us as sane as we are,
Or at least as sane as we seem
In this life that is but a dream.

Without that streak of insanity
There would be no sanity.
Truly no one is sane or insane
Let's stop making such empty claims.

The Divided World

Look at that bird fly in the sky,
I can't do that, no matter how much I try.
On terra firma I am sentenced to stay
Friends, can you just tell me why, can you say?

I crave to fly to the world beyond
My little world, just take a round
Of the globe which is mine to inhabit,
But only a minute bit to inherit.

Tell me friends, do you think it fair
That I must live here, not dream of going there
Without obtaining a paper permit,
Or my visit would be deemed “illegitimate”

Who gave us humans the power to say
Who comes on a visit and who may stay?
Why is it that we think it right
To shoo away some, who gave us that might?

God had already divided the earth,
And as HE did that He shook with mirth
As the land split and the oceans came
Our natural wanderlust to tame.

But then in HIS mercy HE gave us the power,
With intelligence and emotions HE did shower
Humans, so that aircrafts we may build
And visit each other as we willed.

But alas we used those mighty brains
To fight each other in a manner insane.
The power to love has gone to rust
Other races we do not trust.

We divide our homes, our land, our hearts,
Each inherits just a tiny part.
Don't come here, this is my land,
Any problem was caused by the foreign hand.

Why can't I just fly at will?
There is so much that I haven't seen still.
For me the very finest way to worship
Would be to make round the earth a trip.

For the earth is to me my God's creation,
HE did not intend its joys to ration.
HE wished me a path over the whole to trace
See all there is and HIS work with wonder praise.
HE is the creator of all seasons,
Of every beast, man and woman.
What right do we have to pray
When God's basic laws we disobey?

Folks, wake up! Listen to God's orders
Create a world without borders!
Please each other do tightly embrace
Live life fully, with perfect grace!

Wake up! This world to everyone belongs,
Everything in it including rights and wrongs.
Go everywhere that you were intended to go,
And in doing so, to the Creator bow!

And praise that eternal Magician,
Whose powers extend beyond human reason!
Be grateful for all that you have received,
And give up your ways so false and deceived!

That when you eventually get back HOME
After having the whole world roamed,
HE will welcome you back with open arms
And you can rest there forever, happy and calm
For an eternity at complete peace
And happiness at your Heavenly father's knees.
With all your siblings black, brown and white
Holding each other's hands, never again to fight.

The Buddha Replies

Why me she cries,
Why did it have to be my son?
He was so young and sprightly
His life had just begun.

Why he? Just what had he done?
To deserve an end, why not somebody else's son?
Master tell me, I have come to you
Seeking an answer to my question,
Who else can help me besides you?

You are the divine master
Enlightened and worldly wise
I know you can bring back
My dead son in a blink to life

Please do me this great favour
That my son's long life I may savour
Please Lord bring him back to life
For my sake and for his wife's

The Buddha listened silently
While the lady in grief shook violently
Dear Lady he said in a voice quiet and calm
Lady, calm down, I'll help you
His words worked like a balm

But if you will first fetch me some rice
From a home at any price
Where never a dear one was lost
I'll revive your son at any cost

The lady went from house to house
"Lady last week I lost my spouse"
"I lost my dear father"
"Yama took away my brother"

or"I lost last year my wife
What use my useless life"?
Plague took away my sister
Before life's joys had even touched her".

And so went on the mourning
Everyone under life's eternal strife groaning
To the master the lady at last returned
From every house having been spurned

She prostrated before the master
Very practically he had passed her
The wisdom of the worldly wise
By asking for a handful of rice

Death is the only certainty
In life there is no other guarantee
The wise therefore learn
Never for the unattainable to yearn

Life and death is a cycle
From birth to death we go full circle
Death is not life's end
But on the road just a bend

Every end has a beginning
Every beginning an end
It is to learn this eternal secret
That God us to earth has sent.

Once a Killer, Always a Killer

"Killing a mouse could get you 5 years " says the Times of India dated May 11, 2011. Hmm..... I can now safely say I think "and rightly so" when I read that headline. No creature deserves to be tortured the way lab animals are and put to death at the whim and fancy of any random scientistl. If humans have a right to life, so have animals. I am certainly pro-life and in favour of animal rights. I am no longer a researcher. So no reason I should be on the defensive.

Long ago shortly after the sun, moon and the stars came into existence, I had a brief fling with science and research. What I had to do for a living was not what I was entirely comfortable doing. There was a conflict between scientific practicality and human emotionality and sentimentality.

But late in the evening my smirk was wiped off my face . I was hauled over the coals  by a certain member of the medical fraternity for the cold blooded murder of a mouse which he treasured very greatly. It had been tortured badly and struggled and suffered at my hands before it gave up the ghost. The headlines in the newspaper flashed in my mind's eye. Mouse dragged along the floor by its tail, hit on the furniture mercilessly, sat on, dragged from the table to the floor before being put to death.

You have guessed it right. This was a mouse of a different species, not furry and white  as you may think with a pink nose and whiskers, but a black one, hard in texture as well as being a part of the hardware of dh's favourite companion - the computer. 

I can't help it if this mouse has a tail which is a few metres longer than its little body. I sit on my bed propped up against pillows working at the laptop. At 7 pm, my mom comes along and wants me to migrate to the front room to watch telly with her. But I can't bear to part with the laptop and with the Internet. So I get up, pick up my laptop and set off. I forget the mouse, which drags behind me, falls off the bed and then drags behind me a step or two before I realize what is going on and pick it up. After a couple of months of such torture, the mouse obviously breathed its last.

It was replaced by another mouse which was dug out from the drawer. But the old mouse did not have long to live. It was of course old. But fate had decreed that it would stop working only after I had laid hands on it. So finally today I was given an ultimatum this morning. If I tortured mice like this, I did not deserve to own one.

I have spent the whole day having vivid images of myself behind bars for the next 10 years - 2 X 5 = 10. Mercifully I was given a new mouse. I keep my fingers crossed and hope I treat this one better than the other ones. But I don't trust myself. Old habits as they say die hard. Once a mouse killer, always a mouse killer, no matter what the species. Yes, I have a dark secret - a skeleton in my cupboard you may say - I am a serial mouse killer.

So if I vanish off the radar, you know where I have vanished to. Meet you after 10 - 15 years! 

I Chose You My Dear (contd......) Part 4

GROWING UP TO THE TRUTH

Life was never the same after Tanya came home. She was the centre of attraction and everything she did was like some radically new achievement, which no other human in history had achieved before. Every milestone was faithfully captured on video by a doting father and cherished by a loving mother and grandparents. There was a virtual library of Tanya's life - her smiles, her laughter, her face smeared with cereal, the mischief in her eyes, her playing peek-a-boo with mommy, the first time she crawled, the first time she tried to stand, Tanya trying out her first waddling steps, .......

Shweta was over the moon when she said "ma-ma" for the first time. Daddy was a bit peeved that it was mamma first and not pappa. That too did not take too long in following. Grandpa was "da-da"and grandma was "da-di".

Every morning started out with Grandpa taking the dear granddaughter for a walk. She would look at the trees, flowers, listen to the chirping birds and coo in delight. Grandpa's heart would leap in ecstasy and he would look up proudly at little Tanya perched like an empress on his shoulders.

Life however was not without its ups and downs. Tanya had to pass through all the travails of childhood. Teething pains, tummy aches, no potty days, lack of appetite, fever, and the works. But we humans are a resilient lot and Tanya and family got over these trying times without much ado.

Months passed by and so did years. It was finally time to send Tanya to school. After facing all the travails that parents today face in the process, Tanya was admitted to "Sacred Hearts' Convent". The first day at school was traumatic. There was little Tanya in nursery with a lot of other wailing infants and there were all the mothers outside, some with tears flowing down their faces. After all this was a second cutting of the umbilical cord for most, but not for Shweta. For her, this was the very first time. She could not quite comprehend the idea of sending her baby away from her. But human resilience came to the rescue once again. Tanya got used to being away from momma for a few hours every day, had a few friends in her class and grew quite fond of "teacher aunty", who was her heroine. Everyday she would come home and lisp new nursery rhymes in the most attractive voice and Shweta's heart would fill up with pride.

Things went smoothly, till Tanya was in Std. III. It was then that a storm swept into Shweta's life and took away her peace for a while. As we saw, she was worried about Tanya's silence and withdrawn mien. When repeated efforts to get the matter out of her failed, she had to eventually take her to a paediatric psychiatrist. After a few sessions, during which the doctor had to work really hard to draw Tanya out of her shell, she had some information that came as a real shocker for Anil and Shweta. Tanya had somehow got to know that she was not their biological child. Some children in school (children can be pretty vicious) had teased her saying her parents did not love her, since she was not their own child.

Shweta and Anil had already been advised by the agency that they would eventually have to reveal the truth to Tanya. They had been waiting for an opportune time, when she was a bit older and in a position to understand. They had not, however, bargained for this.

That night, as she was getting Tanya into bed, Shweta without saying anything directly, told her a story of a little child who had been adopted. Tanya listened in silence. At the end, Shweta asked her, why she was looking so sad. The child blurted out "because the parents do not love the child". "What makes you say that"? asked Shweta. That was when the dam burst and the child sobbed out "Some children in my class said, you and daddy don't love me, because you brought me from an orphanage, They said, I am not your daughter". Tears of anger welled up in Shweta's eyes, and she said "Darling, those children are really stupid. Next time they say that to you, just tell them, their parents did not have any choice when they had them. You, my child are very precious to us. We chose you, because we loved you". The child was listening wide eyed. She finally gave Shweta her winsome smile and dropped off to sleep.

I Chose You My Dear (contd......) Part 4

GROWING UP TO THE TRUTH

Life was never the same after Tanya came home. She was the centre of attraction and everything she did was like some radically new achievement, which no other human in history had achieved before. Every milestone was faithfully captured on video by a doting father and cherished by a loving mother and grandparents. There was a virtual library of Tanya's life - her smiles, her laughter, her face smeared with cereal, the mischief in her eyes, her playing peek-a-boo with mommy, the first time she crawled, the first time she tried to stand, Tanya trying out her first waddling steps, .......

Shweta was over the moon when she said "ma-ma" for the first time. Daddy was a bit peeved that it was mamma first and not pappa. That too did not take too long in following. Grandpa was "da-da"and grandma was "da-di".

Every morning started out with Grandpa taking the dear granddaughter for a walk. She would look at the trees, flowers, listen to the chirping birds and coo in delight. Grandpa's heart would leap in ecstasy and he would look up proudly at little Tanya perched like an empress on his shoulders.

Life however was not without its ups and downs. Tanya had to pass through all the travails of childhood. Teething pains, tummy aches, no potty days, lack of appetite, fever, and the works. But we humans are a resilient lot and Tanya and family got over these trying times without much ado.

Months passed by and so did years. It was finally time to send Tanya to school. After facing all the travails that parents today face in the process, Tanya was admitted to "Sacred Hearts' Convent". The first day at school was traumatic. There was little Tanya in nursery with a lot of other wailing infants and there were all the mothers outside, some with tears flowing down their faces. After all this was a second cutting of the umbilical cord for most, but not for Shweta. For her, this was the very first time. She could not quite comprehend the idea of sending her baby away from her. But human resilience came to the rescue once again. Tanya got used to being away from momma for a few hours every day, had a few friends in her class and grew quite fond of "teacher aunty", who was her heroine. Everyday she would come home and lisp new nursery rhymes in the most attractive voice and Shweta's heart would fill up with pride.

Things went smoothly, till Tanya was in Std. III. It was then that a storm swept into Shweta's life and took away her peace for a while. As we saw, she was worried about Tanya's silence and withdrawn mien. When repeated efforts to get the matter out of her failed, she had to eventually take her to a paediatric psychiatrist. After a few sessions, during which the doctor had to work really hard to draw Tanya out of her shell, she had some information that came as a real shocker for Anil and Shweta. Tanya had somehow got to know that she was not their biological child. Some children in school (children can be pretty vicious) had teased her saying her parents did not love her, since she was not their own child.

Shweta and Anil had already been advised by the agency that they would eventually have to reveal the truth to Tanya. They had been waiting for an opportune time, when she was a bit older and in a position to understand. They had not, however, bargained for this.

That night, as she was getting Tanya into bed, Shweta without saying anything directly, told her a story of a little child who had been adopted. Tanya listened in silence. At the end, Shweta asked her, why she was looking so sad. The child blurted out "because the parents do not love the child". "What makes you say that"? asked Shweta. That was when the dam burst and the child sobbed out "Some children in my class said, you and daddy don't love me, because you brought me from an orphanage, They said, I am not your daughter". Tears of anger welled up in Shweta's eyes, and she said "Darling, those children are really stupid. Next time they say that to you, just tell them, their parents did not have any choice when they had them. You, my child are very precious to us. We chose you, because we loved you". The child was listening wide eyed. She finally gave Shweta her winsome smile and dropped off to sleep.

I Chose You My Dear (contd......) Part 3

TANYA COMES HOME

Thus it was that Anil and Shweta decided to adopt a girl child. Both were very socially conscious and they were fortunate to have their respective families' support.
It was the start of a long, excruciating wait and endless encounters with bureaucracy.

Firstly they had to go to an adoption agency and fill in endless forms with numerous columns pertaining to the minutest of their personal and family details. But then who ever said, bringing a child home is an easy process, irrespective of whether it is a biological child or an adopted one? After satisfying themselves that the potential parents were suitable on the face of it, the officials arrived at their place to interview other family members. It was essential for them to check out what kind of a family they were dealing with and whether the child would be welcome in their home. The interview went on for approximately half an hour. Then the officials went to counter check certain details about the family from a couple of neighbours, whom Anil and Shweta had named as references.

Next came the more crucial part, where Anil and Shweta had to give their specifications about the child they would like to adopt. These were recorded, but did not automatically guarantee that they would get a child satisfying all their preferences. Now came the really agonizing part of the wait. Both Anil and Shweta would sit and spend endless hours planning all that they would do with their child, what they would name her, which school she would go to and so on. Their parents would exchange amused looks, which would sometimes reflect a certain anxiety, wondering what would happen if things did not quite go just the way the youngsters had planned. Would they be able to deal with any more disappointments than what they had already been through? But they would just smile at Anil and Shweta in order to boost their confidence.

Days changed to weeks, weeks to months. Finally after 10 months, they got a call from the agency, stating that a child had been found for them and would they please come over next Tuesday to see her? Anil and Shweta's excitement knew no bounds. Every day and every night stretched endlessly and the wait could now only be described as excruciating. They had waited for 10 long months, but Tuesday seemed an age away.

Tuesday dawned bright and beautiful. Anil and Shweta were awake long before sunrise. Rather, one could say they had hardly slept. They were due to report at the agency by 11 a.m. Quite predictably they arrived around half an hour early. They paced up and down the waiting room and kept checking their watches and also the clock on the wall. At around 11.15 a.m. a peon came and signalled to them to go into the office. The officer in charge welcomed them in with a broad smile. What a contrast it was to all those previous occasions when they had dealt with all those stern looking, unfriiendly beaurocrats. The officer signalled the assistant to go and bring in the child. Both sat there holding their breaths and each other's hand. Eventually a child was brought in. Both Anil and Shweta looked up at her. There she was, a chubby baby, 6 months of age, with a mouth like a rosebud and huge dark eyes on her round face. Oh, didn't she just look gorgeous with those sweeping eyelashes and curly mop of hair? Shweta's eyes welled with tears. She held out her hands to the child, and as if on cue, as if they had known each other all along the child jumped into Shweta's arms. Shweta could not stop herself from hugging the child tight and burying her face into the little bundle. All those years of waiting and agonizing just melted away and here she was, holding her very own baby. Anil looked on impassively and reached out awkwardly to touch her.

After completing some more formalities, the family of 3 - father, mother and child left to go home. It was a strange feeling - one of being complete and a real family at last. They arrived home to a rousing welcome. Grandpa and Grandma had decorated the house and welcomed home little Tanya with a traditional "aarti". There was a lot of celebration that day, and nobody could bring themselves to get on with any work. Everyone wanted to spend time with Tanya. She had finally arrived home.