A Certain Kind of Woman
A woman past forty, who occasionally sees herself swinging in age to possible extremes, at times this way and at times that… only to return to equilibrium, to stand upright, on her current age. This blog is her space to release her thoughts and imaginations on her being a woman. The writings could assume any form -- prose, poetry or prosetry.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
An update to readers here
One thing is becoming clearer day by day - the more serious i get about writing, the less i am writing. I mean my personal writings - kind of mastering self censoring. The writer's bane, and a reader's boon!? :)
Anyway, so all these long blah blah blogs are losing significance. Only Abstract Deductions blog will be operative until I find anything significant to write here. My problem, though.
Working on some short stories, scripts etc...might not even see the light of day, but glad it scrapes the rust off - a welcome change from the jaded monotones that creeps in.
& to my own surprise I have a Facebook page - tidbits, short poems, photographs, music, quotes and such i love to share.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
The Liver of Life!
"Life loves the liver of it" - Maya Angelou
With great respect to Maya Angelou while taking the meaning of it in true spirits, but it had me thinking of "the liver" for a while....my focus was more on mind and heart, when i thought of life...
Recently met someone, after may be over 25 years, who had a liver transplant - amazing to see his love for life....when it was about to slip through!
Love your life...live it!
Take care of what you eat, and drink!
Yeah- Sunday Morning Gyan!
Friday, September 21, 2012
Laughing, for no reason?
‘how you feeling today’ he asked
with an accustomed kindness,
but a vexing
question
on a Tuesday morning
for any one carrying on with the humdrum
of everyday life, and the corollary
of a Monday night fever
deader than yesterday, so more alive,
I said
forgetting my usual smile
I think I heard a snort – a limp snort,
but what was in it
for me to laugh?
Again, a photo by myself....from my balcony- was it a Tuesday morning? I don't seem to remember. If the weather is normal, it looks almost the same...except for the cloud patterns in the sky, and may be the shade of the sky.
After a viral fever which took over 12 days to subside, it is good to feel alive...but both Suresh and me seem ageing awfully fast- how else to tackle, but laugh!?
After a viral fever which took over 12 days to subside, it is good to feel alive...but both Suresh and me seem ageing awfully fast- how else to tackle, but laugh!?
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Reading Kabir
this eternal quietude,
the music that fills the sky
within ~ sunrise or is it sunset?
moon-rise,
or is it moonset?
what time is it-
day or is it night?
life or is this death?
the skies,
the bird within had sought
was always there, is there
within
~~~~~~~~~~
kaun murali sabd sun anand bhayo ~
WHAT IS THAT flute whose music thrills me
with joy?
The flame burns without a lamp;
The lotus blossoms without a root;
Flowers bloom in clusters;
The moon-bird is devoted to the moon;
With all its heart the rain-bird longs for
the shower of rain;
But upon whose love does the Lover
concentrate His entire life?
satgur soi daya kar dinha ~
IT IS THE MERCY of my true Guru that has
made me to know the unknown;
I have learned from Him how to walk without
feet, to see without eyes, to hear without ears, to drink without mouth, to fly
without wings;
I have brought my love and my meditation
into the land where there is no sun and moon, nor day and night.
Without eating, I have tasted of the
sweetness of nectar; and without water, I have quenched my thirst.
Where there is the response of delight,
there is the fullness of joy. Before whom can that joy be uttered?
Kabir says: 'The Guru is great beyond
words, and great is the good fortune of the disciple.'
kahain Kabir vicar ke
KABIR PONDERS and says: 'He who has neither
caste nor country, who is formless and without quality, fills all space.'
The Creator brought into being the Game of
Joy: and from the word Om the Creation sprang.
The earth is His joy; His joy is the sky;
His joy is the flashing of the sun and the
moon;
His joy is the beginning, the middle, and
the end;
His joy is eyes, darkness, and light.
Oceans and waves are His joy; His joy the
Sarasvati, the Jumna, and the Ganges.
The Guru is One: and life and death, union
and separation, are all His plays of joy!
His play the land and water, the whole
universe!
His play the earth and the sky!
In play is the Creation spread out, in play
it is established. The whole world, says Kabir, rests in His play, yet still
the Player remains unknown.
~ Kabir, Translated by Rabindranath Tagore http://www.tagoreweb.in/
Photo courtesy: as per original copyright
at:
Saturday, July 21, 2012
For a change~ Laugh your hearts out (then think?)
Yes a calm morning...Thinking of God, this ( a mail i received this week) came up. I guess a hearty laugh on a Sunday morning would go a long way for the week. They say:
EVEN GOD LAUGHED ... THROUGH A CHILD'S EYES ...
Friday, July 20, 2012
On Dreams
I shall wish you sweet dreams,
for the night, the best
of all dreams for the day
but, my child, know
dreams are dangerous stuff,
it could waken you
and leave you
sleepless, restless ~
know your dream,
before you dream
dreams are such dangerous stuff,
dreams realised~ a moment of glory
then, just as mundane
best of all dream
dream for the beauty
of dreaming
of dreaming
dream....dream...
dream like a butterfly
dream like a butterfly
in a mundane world
~ All human beings are also dream beings.
Dreaming ties all mankind together~ Jack Kerouac
~ All men dream, but not equally. Those who
dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find
that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may
act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.~ T. E. Lawrence
And the verse, just my view!
And the verse, just my view!
Photo courtesy: as per original copyright
at:
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Contradictions
sometimes our lives
like the mountains
on guard, watching
as the world streams by
sometimes our lives
like the streams
in tears, flowing
as mountains slide past
destined to carry it all
not looking back
not looking back
embracing within
yet, letting it all go
confronting the future
the reality, like the birds
smoothing the ruffled feathers
after the wind, for another
yet,
at times we wish our lives
just be, like the flowers
smiling, in the sunlight
as the breeze tickles by
‘You must not know too much or be too
precise or scientific about birds and trees and flowers and
watercraft; a certain free-margin, and even vagueness - ignorance, credulity -
helps your enjoyment of these things.’ ~ Henry David Thoreau
Photo courtesy: as per original copyright
at:
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