A Chipmunk’s Scattered Breakfast.

It was early morning on October 13 this year, I along with my daughter had just stepped out of our apartment premises where I saw this little one munching its breakfast on thrown away leftover food. I could not resist clicking this unique mammal. My 4 year old daughter enjoyed watching it closely. I entitled it “A Chipmunk’s Scattered Breakfast” just because the food was lying all around it.

Ghosts of Past

 

I recall when

there were times;

I walked miles –

wearing big smiles

of having togetherness,

leaving behind tears

of brutal loneliness.

I recall when

there were times;

I glimpsed at –

myself in mirrors

of self worth;

praising, trying to

fill empty ego.

I recall when

there were times;

I had false –

pride of sense

ignoring to learn

from mistakes, others,

advancing my self.

I today evoke

there are times;

I fear of –

unknown old ghosts

inching toward me -

to clutch,

to throw,

to dump,

in –

graves of past.

The Power of Perception

Couple years ago my company - Azure Knowledge Corporation, completed a  decade of growing operations. To mark the landmark the company organized an in-house painting competition for all those who wished to participate. Almost everyone did. I did too.

We were informed about the competition and its theme two days before the event.

The theme for the competition was “My Azure” (Not related to Windows Azure).    

Since, I have a passion for sketching, painting and colors of course; I too participated in it. To be very honest, I held the brush and dipped them in  colors after almost two decades.

With having two days on hand, I started to perceive in my mind as to what I would sketch and paint on a theme which I haven’t worked on, ever before.

The picture above is exactly what my mind perceived and my right hand did the rest. I sketched a very famous landmark in one of the fastest growing cities in western India - Ahemdabad and splashed colors on to it. 

The competition was tough with hundreds of participants and excellent paintings each one had, I thought my ordinary painting would not stand a chance at all, but to my utter disbelief and surprise I stood THIRD.

All credits to The Power of Perception.

I believe if we use this power positively; our World surely would be peaceful and harmonious to live in.

The Twilight

Lifting spirits before the rise,

clenching fists

punching in the air

pushing that virtually dead zeal to live, 

to life.

Lifting spirits along the rise,

joining feet

jogging on the floor

thrashing that almost dead vigor to live, 

to life.

Lifting spirits through the risen,

gathering strength

jostling all day

overcoming that feared dead soul to live,

to life.

Not lifting, but picking up scattered 

pieces of –

fallen spirits,

unrated talent,

killed confidence,

thrashed belief,

and a failing heart 

warrior loses day’s battle.

A hopeless glimpse at 

The Twilight – 

with stretched lifted arms

fosters a hope of another

bright successful day,

tomorrow.

Note: Photo credits to my older brother - Mangeshanand Sastikar aka Anand Sastikar.

A Terrorist

In a country stricken with –

war,

crime,

and terrorism;

from its by-lanes of poverty,

there rises a child of a destitute,

prepares to sell his soul;

to quench his thirst of hatred,

and let his family have bread.

Sails across the seas,

in a high jacked ferry,

teamed-up with ill-minded men,

adorning guns and grenades.

Meekly sneaks in the city of 

dreams and hope,

munches on luscious food;

gulps booze to deaden beats,

gains courage to shower,

massacring bullets on –

innocent,

unprepared,

unaware humans.

Brave warriors give away lives,

while injured fighters catch

the puppet alive,

to receive a meager reward.

While the insensible gunman;

lives a lavish life,

behind bars,

for four long years.

Citizens and kin of the slaughtered

cry, await justice,

while authorities ponder

next action.

The pony takes a chance

and quite willingly pleads mercy,

despite knowing it’s act of cowardice

and fails miserably.

All of a sudden,

on a cold morning;

surprising one and all;

yet, leaving everyone merrier,

the slayer is sent a week before

reminding that havocking day,  

to dark gallows as a

justice and homage 

to the killed.

Seashell

Traveled through unknown

dark depths of ocean.

Flowed out to mix with other

big and small in shallow waters.

Salty waters dried-up soon,

rather forcefully, only to lay me there stray.

A spade picked me up on a hot day,

with fairly smooth sand

as companion to land at a creation site;

to get crushed, fused with concrete,

later soon.

A pair of tender hands there

picked me up, added colors,

decorated me for a new beginning;

only be given away as a gift,

to the well-known.

Old Man Walking...

I was told I was born

on a date,

in that month,

years ago.

Don’t really know

it to be true, but

accepted what

was told

and celebrated

year after year after year.

I faintly remember holding

fingers of father and mother

or those who adored me,

in those years of infancy.

I pleasantly recall laying my

hand on those committed warm palms,

who would hold mine with love.

Hugged, cajoled, admired;

I grew up to a naughty child

and then to a hard working youth

with a bit of haughtiness within me,

which diluted when struggles of life

took over and I overtook them without

any aid.

How can I forget getting married

to a beautiful lady years ago, who changed me

from a child to a man with a lot of backing

of culture, love, and heart.

It then was my turn to foster kids,

make them strong and kind enough

to beat the rustic world outside,

with a hope, I wouldn’t need a stick

to support me later.

Years later growing old and shaken

accompanied with squeaky joints and tired body;

I tend to realize I need a walking stick

to help me walk a mile.

Have times shaken so much

that the child who shot me

from behind has had shaky hands;

resulting in a blurred picture,

which does not reflect my

present situation at all.

The Strawberry Cake.

             

“Cut Me on Your birthday,

Cut Me on Christmas,

I am a Strawberry Cake,

Mast-Mast!

Enjoy!”

            The little girl in the picture is our 3 year old daughter “Chinmayee” a student of nursery.  She is in the ‘B’ section. Her school recently held a Fancy Dress Competition for all the divisions of nursery and kindergarten.

           

            Chinmayee was to dress as a “Strawberry Cake”.

                                   

          The theme for her to become a strawberry cake was assigned a fortnight before the event. The class teacher requested not to rent-out clothing and prepare them at home, it was compulsory to have a slogan or a punch line to compliment the dressing.

            From the very next day, we got to work on how to work it out. How to create a cake from styrofoam? But, in the end, we applied all that we knew about creativity to make it happen.

            We did have a tough time cutting the Styrofoam, aligning and sticking them, sticking strawberry colored Styrofoam film on it, sticking candles, decorating it to really make it appear like a cake. Thank God! it was done, finally. It took us four days to complete the project. We patted each other, but the event was yet to happen.

            It was eighth of this month at 9 a.m., we two with Chinmayee dressed as a “Strawberry Cake” were in the auditorium at her school for the event. She was as normal as ever, while we had butterflies in our empty bellies. :-)

            The first of all the children to make their appearance on the stage was the ‘A’ division.  It was around 10 to 12 tiny tots, some dressed as noodles, maize, a dairy-milk chocolate, a milk-shake delivered awesome slogans and punch lines, some were shy to speak, some were too loud, and some cried on seeing their mom’s watching them perform.  Once this section was complete, it was the turn of ‘B’ section.

            After a couple of kids playing their part, it was Chinmayee’s turn to make it big. Here I wish to mention the miracle of God and positive will-power. Chinmayee had been sick with fever for almost 4 days before the event, but just for that event, I don’t know how, but she gathered the strength to launch herself on the stage. She confidently walked over to the microphone, delivered her punch line with awesome energy and self-belief.  The crowd present in-there gave a round of applause; we were awe-struck, happy to listen that and joined with big smiles on our face.

            The competition was over, we returned home, I had my much needed breakfast and left for work.

            We both were happy on Chinmayee’s involvement and the commitment she had toward the event. We were glad to see she being least feared executing her role on the stage.

            After almost two weeks, although, we weren’t that curious to know the results of the competition, compared to her taking part in the event, but somehow we thought we should at least know where she stands. So, my wife decided to visit the school just to know the outcome of the event and collect Chinmayee in return.  

            And Lo!, on reaching the school, my wife was so happy to read on the notice board that her daughter had stood “First” in her division in the competition.

            Chinmayee received hugs, kisses, words of appreciation, and encouragement to do well in whatever she did, from her Mom and Dad.

            I sincerely appreciate all the efforts of - Anshumati, my wife, for authoring the punch line (“Mast” – is a word in Hindi language and it means – Nice.) and one hundred percent dedication to make Chinmayee’s participation a success; right from buying the material, cutting, sticking, decorating, all the while looking after Chinmayee at home. Since, I couldn’t help much, I ensured being there with them.

  

****

Stop Feticide!

I was quite shocked when I heard about men mostly in the developing or under developed countries even in this modern age force their better-halfs to undergo a sex determination test and then decide to retain the growing life only if it is a male child and kill the fetus if it happens to be a female. 

It is understood from known resources that the decision to kill female or unwanted fetus is also influenced by elders and older members of the family and lack of knowledge and understanding. 

Worse is when doctors support this decisions while using technology at their behest and charging extra money to determine the sex and killing it.   

What a shame!!!

Wonder why don't these mean men and their family member understand that whatever sent inside is a gift from above. 

Whatever the case, may it be financial constraint or thinking about their future these men or culprits should never be pardoned at all.

It is high-time people broaden their thought process and start accepting that bundle of joy in their arms.

Garden

      

Breathe –
fresh breeze
flowing from trees,
inhale the free oxygen;
fill empty lungs if you please,
feel the love of trees pulling out nitrogen,
walk and jog around with nature’s beautiful equation.
visit with a friend or life partner before the Sun sees all,
prepare to relish the fragrance of flowers about to bloom,
delight your eyes with wonderful colors of nature,
sit under shadows of green azure.
Let the day begin,
without a sin.
Eyes closed,
breathe.

Season's Greetings

Diwali also known as Deepavali – the festival of lights marks the end of evil and begins a new world for all that is good. The festival carries immense importance in India and Indians residing or living on anywhere in this world as well. Epics and elders tell about God defeating Demons and returning peace in this wonderful universe. No idea which generation of us humans saw that happening, but the lively atmosphere all around surely is encouraging and there would be none willing to be left out from the celebrations.

Deepavali falls in the pious Hindu month of “Ashwin” which alternatively falls in October or November of the calender usually followed all over.  

The festival lasts almost for a week; starting with first day as “Dhanteras” when people on this day buy out gold or gold jewelry, “Laxmi-Pujan” as the second day when everyone visit temples in the morning praying to respective dieties and in the evening they pray to “Goddess Laxmi” to keep them happy and gay. All major and minor business houses change their account books to new ones while performing “Laxmi-Puja” on this day. Third day enters into Diwali – the ultimate celebration day, when one and all, may it be neighbors, friends, relatives meet and greet well-being to each other. The younger lot seek blessings and elders lovingly bless everyone. The festivities end with "Bhau-Beej" being the last day. On this last, yet special day, brothers and sisters gather and pray for each other all the while enjoying the togetherness.  

  

It is considered a good omen to resume business on the fifth day after “Diwali” that is “Labh-Paacham” and most businessmen start-off on that day.

Amidst this brief period of festivities and celebration some prefer staying at home, while some kick-off for an outing with family and or friends to distant places.

No matter how much strain and tiredness these 7 to 8 days bring in; the festival retains the enthusiasm and energy amongst everyone. There is much more to say and share from what I’ve shared. People may have numerous stories to tell. I just shared the basics.  

This year the festival starts off today i.e. November 11, 2012.

"Wishing You A Happy Diwali & A Prosperous New Year" 

Rising Sun

If the blackest clouds wither away for those golden rays to enlighten; then even the darkest nights 

won’t last forever. 

Clicked this picture with my new Olympus DigiCam on 9/23/2012