Shadows

The shadows of the day don't disappear as the darkness descends. They haunt my nights. A thousand of them. 

Near the Nila

The Nila doesn't advocate Carpe Diem; seizing the day being too dynamic a proposition for a slow-moving river. Instead it urges you to freeze the moment...

This is just a line from a beautifully written travelogue by writer Anita Nair that I stumbled upon, in which she describes her journey along  the bank of the river Nila. I haven't read many travelogues to judge one, but I found this one interesting enough to capture my attention long enough despite the familiarity of what she was describing. I have seen Nila at various points along its length - Palakkad, Thiruvilwamala, Ottapalam, Shoranur, Pattambi. May be it was this familiarity that made it so easy for me to identify with the article. Thanks to her, I came to know of the existence of an organization set up to save the neglected river - the Nila Foundation. The foundation is funded partially by The Blue Yonder, and intends to revive the dying rivers in Kerala, in particular Nila. To quote the author,

"And amidst the shrubs a lone firefly drew neon green smileys in the dark.." 

PS: You can read the complete travelogue here.

Backwaters of Kerala

This is just a picture I took during a train journey from Trivandrum to Bangalore last month. Pardon the  picture quality - I took it using my mobile phone camera.

Ormayil Onam....

I couldn't help but write a post on Onam though I had decided a simple picture of a pookkalam would be enough. May be  because this is the sixth consecutive Onam that I'm spending away from home and the nostalgia that creeps in every time I see or hear something remotely related to Onam or for that matter Kerala is too overpowering for me to resist. Practically my Onam always started from my school where we would have various competitions among the student houses. The next four days of vacation (my school didn't have ten days of vacation for Onam) were always spent at our ancestral home located in a sleepy beautiful village where the whole family would gather. Any flower we could get our hands on  - from the precious little yellow mukkutti to the brightly colored chembarathi( shoe flower) - delicately made its way to the pookkalam over a small circular spread of cow dung which served as the base.( No, we didn't care whether it would make our hands dirty. Neither about the design which mostly was a conspicuously placed flower in the center surrounded by concentric circles.) Then there was the  interesting process of making Thrikkakarappans, and we children were allowed to be just spectators as far as this was concerned. They are pyramidal structures made out of  mud (and that being the reason we children were never allowed to actively participate as much as we would have liked to), and would be kept decorated with rice-flour, chembarathi flowers, and an olakkuda (an umbrella made of Palmyra leaves) in the front yard. And to finish off, a sumptuous sadya on plantain leaf - as colorful as it is tasty with a serving of payasam. Gone are those days but not the memories. My last five Onams were spent at Pilani, and that made it more special sans the Valluvandan style celebration I was so used to. I guess, at home or not, Onam will always be special - we just have to find ways to make it so. Signing off wishing everyone a wonderful and happy Onam....

Another Onam....

Ambitious?

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous -

Almost, at times, the Fool.

- From The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot

To be Indian or not to be...

Take any recent newspaper - you will find at least one report of attacks on women for 'wearing Western attire' or 'walking around at night alone', and many more . Such acts cannot be justified whatever reason the attackers have. Hiding under the cover of 'preserving Indianness' , these people are promoting intolerance. If wearing jeans is un-Indian, how many of these self- appointed custodians of Indian culture wear traditional Indian dhoti? Or is it something that is applicable only to women? How can wearing a dress of one's own choice make anyone less Indian? Aren't there more pressing issues than making a furore about youth celebrating Valentines' day or wearing jeans? Indianness is not defined by a person's dress or his dining habits. Rather being Indian is all about having love and respect for one's own country and its people irrespective of caste, creed or gender. It is about fulfilling the vision of the countless martyrs who laid down their life for the freedom of this country - to build a truly independent and developed India. This is a country whose constitution advocates equality and upholds freedom of individuals. Such outrageous acts by anyone should be considered an attack against basic human rights and individual freedom. The government needs to take strict and effective action against such attacks and ensure the safety of women. As one of my friends rightly put it, if beating up innocent women is Indianness, then I don't want to be an Indian.