thisisme

God- to every human being must be as personal as his best kept secret, his fingerprint, his deepest confession, his most revered object, his ultimate refuge, his superpower, his most trusted friend, his only moment of ecstasy. He is someone to be leaned on in any situation, his presence to be felt.   I just wonder if God enjoys all the materialistic things like offerings, flowers and innumerable etcs, if God could be pacified by chantings and ramblings, if God can be represented by stones and pictures, if God has human form decked up with gold, armours, jewels and flowers, then he is none other than a figment of our handicapped imagination.  To me, an empty room with no disturbance is the holy place to call out God, a mind willing to reach out to him is the most effective offering and the void where I can feel my infinetesimally minute energy  merging into his immeasurable effulgence is the true prayer. 

While the world is consumed by the Covid pandemic, while our country is curious about Sushant's suicide,  demolition of Kangana's office and allegations against Uddhav Thackaray,  I am constantly disturbed by one observation that no one seems to have noticed.  There are lot of conspiracy theories against China regarding the origin of Corona virus, rumours still questioning the existence of the evident virus,  researches to identify the magic drug to kill the virus and vaccine trials to prevent the disease and uplift the spirits of the corona phobic individuals. One aspect that seems to be missing from all the social media is the effect of corona on the quality of the fabric that we wear.   I am not referring to the new clothes that we buy online as part of online shopping spree.  I have made a hideous observation that the clothes that we have been wearing since few years and those which have been decorating our wardrobes, seem to be shrinking with the ...

Have you ever felt helpless,  miserable,  devastated, lost?  Is there any one particular task that makes you experience all the synonyms of 'frustration' all at once?   I don't know about you, but,  for me,  it is 'washing clothes'. I hate it.  The damsel Ganga of Mahabharata had agreed to marry Shantanu on the condition that he must never ask the reason behind even the weirdest of her actions. On the same lines,  I put forth two rules to my husband to marry me which I guess he forgot the next moment. One,  he has to let me support my parents as they don't have sons. Whether he remembers that stipulation or not,  he has followed this at his own accord and I am extremely pleased with his commitment. The second one was- I need a washing machine or any alternative for washing clothes. I can't wash clothes. He has absolutely no memory of such a truce.  Right after our wedding,  we have always hired maids who would wash our clo...

 "Reader, I married him."  A captivating sentence from "Jane Eyre", by Charlotte Bronte. When I completed the book, I wanted to print it and stick it on the most conspicuous niche in my room. As our wedding anniversary is nearing, I thought I will remind my husband of our 13th anniversary by getting a customized mug with this quote and gift it to - my husband? to me? or to us? When I was probing deep into my brain for answers to this question, another question arose from some curious corner of my brain. Who is special among us,  him or me? In the above sentence, grammatically, who is the subject and who is the object? Which pronoun seems important in the sentence- I or him? Does it magnify one and belittle the other? If so, which one of the pronouns trivializes the other?  I started off with a systematic approach- (The argument is applicable only till the date of our wedding) First scenario - Let me fancy that 'I''' am more virtuous than 'him...

One thing I am sure of,  if not anything else is that the whole world in this fraction of time-space is consumed by Monday morning blues. Who would want to go and glue to the same seat you occupy six days of the week doing the same bleak job you have been doing over years.  Of course,  we all would have taken up the job with lot of enthusiasm and dreams.  But anything that becomes a routine loses its charm over a few days.  Same with our jobs even if that is our dream job.   You can categorize me into being very capricious. That itself speaks how wretched I feel every monday morning. For the past few days,  I have deviced few alterations in my routine to cheer myself up on Mondays. Here are few tips for people like me- 1. Do not vow to concentrate on your job on Mondays. Mondays are for relaxation. Whatever might be your job,  the job will definitely be more hectic on Mondays as it follows a holiday. Yet, complete your job because thats what ...

My parents gave me a precious gift in the form of life. Your appa and me have passed on the gift to you both. To a large extent we,  as parents are apprehensive of whether you will like this life that we have given you or not.  We want to make our gift better and better for you.  We want you to enjoy it to the fullest extent.  We want you to learn to play along with all the fellow players who come into your arena. We want to fill in courage and strength in you to fight the rough times,  we want to infuse a mindset to enjoy the little things,  to spread happiness to everyone and remain happy throughout this wonderful journey called 'life'.   Our companions in this journey are not always agreeable. You may be forced into situations where you have to put up with those whose frequencies don't match with yours.  But remember, many times life gives us tests to learn a lot of lessons just to make us better.  The quicker we learn,  the easi...

Sonnet 19:  When I consider how my light is spent BY  JOHN MILTON When I consider how my light is spent,    Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,    And that one Talent which is death to hide    Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present    My true account, lest he returning chide;    “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”    I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need    Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best    Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed    And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest:    They also serve who only stand and wait. ” This poem was taught by my favourite english teacher, Gad sir in high school though I don't exactly remember which class. That was t...

Bisibele bhaat of thoughts What to do with the leftover rice? It is a trait passed on in my genes that I can’t tolerate wasting cooked rice. But my family has an unpredictable appetite. Some days their appetite for rice matches Bakasura's whereas on other days they just fill up their tummies with few morsels. The rice left over is so much that I can’t hog it alone. My husband hates to eat left over rice. I have come up with a novel idea to use it. Cook some fresh dal with vegetables, mix it with the leftover rice, bisibele bhaath masala, tamarind juice and little jaggery. Garnish it with tadka and a tasty tangy ‘Bisi bele bhaath’ is ready. I am an heir to few more such recipes and I am the inventor of quite some. I take pride in nurturing this art of conjuring up all available things and formulating a new one altogether. This flair of mine applies the most to my thoughts. I try to connect invisible distant dots and visualise them as a comprehensible picture. For instance, I reread ...