Je suis triste

Pourquoi? Il ya beaucoup des raison....mais, il ya beacoup des raison pour contentment aussi...the human brain is well and truly split!

Beinvenue les Etudiants!

It's been quite a while since i walked around with the air of a teacher...I remember it as a heady feeling...being watched, observed, admired, disliked, dreaded....but most of all, being loved...its been so long....I am back to being all that again...in a quaint bungalow that will house us for the next five years atleast. The students are so different this time round. Some of them are rural, some urban, but most of them 'local'.I always wanted to be 'earthy' and here is my chance...This time round, i will not just 'teach', i will 'learn'. I will plant bouganvillea along with the students on the fence, watch them paint the ceiling....is this my final destination?

a la terroriste!

Can there be a bigger tragedy than not being forgiven?

Anguish

'They told us we would come out alive after the attacks'..this chilling statement sums up the manipulated, brainwashed and ignorant mind of the young, baby-faced, attackers, called the terrorist by the world. They are not the terrorists, they are the weapons that are used by the terrorists to fire hate and torture. The real terrorists are those politicians, those gang-leaders, those adults who have led misguided lives, and continue to misguide young minds. I do not for once believe that an 18 year old can harbour so much of hatred...he is too young to process it. And if we go over the reports, he was like an empty-minded AK-47, who was on his cell-phone all the time and was taking orders - 'uda dun kya'? Haan uda do! 'Theek hai' and there went another volley of firing....
Let us not misfire by calling these youngsters terrorists and commit the mistake of letting the real perpetrators of the crime walk the streets without fear. Let sense prevail for god sake! The only way this will stop is if these criminals do not find enough ammunition and weapons (read youth) to support them and aid their activities. We really need to do a lot more to bring our youth within the folds of civil society, make them see hope, harmony and peace. Make them build societies, take them more seriously and listen to them..Let us not react by firing hate at them....because we need to protect more people in the future. Hate will perpetuate more hate and will be an endless cycle...God help the youth from the ugly minds of perverse adults.

Analogy

There is something about Cars...the way the body engages with the technique...the push of the gears, the pull of the foot, and the pressing down of the accelerator...it hits the soul. I am in love with driving!

The Tea Party

The Ronnefeldt “tilting” teapot.

Looking out through the teapot.....was wondering at the perspective this could give. hundreds actually....but its the 'placing' of the object that renders it a meaning. I find the objects conversant with one another, shutting out the world...what a tea party!

A blasted mind

Another series of blasts.....what do they leave you with? two kinds of reactions in binary opposites - hysterical with fear, or the slump of a tired mind that says....I think i will sleep early today. I think the media should realize that most of their viewers are beginning to fall in the latter mode. Soon, the only people who will watch the images are the perpetrators themselves...which they do anyway...with glee...of the product they created, the script they wrote...So why watch? might as well sleep early, hoping that everyone is safe tonight and tomorrow....

Happy Teachers Day

On September 5th, I wished my daughters - 'Happy Teachers Day'. My elder one, looked at me puzzled...shrugged and walked away. She has resigned to the fact that her mother is just not 'usual'. She will someday understand that they are my best teachers. I learn the power of dignity, silence and tolerance from my elder daughter. How? let me narrate an incident....
On one of those usual, emotion-packed evenings, when i asserted my misplaced sense of motherhood, yelling and screaming at her, she suddenly broke down - 'Ma, i am lonely! I hate my school...I am teased about my christian surname, about eating non-vegetarian food...I hate my identity! I could have sunk beneath the earth at this....collecting myself, i asked for details...realized that she had been putting up with this for months, uncomplainingly...I went to school, spoke to her teacher.....and as i walked away from her class, she looked at me for reassurance...I realized, I must begin to play mother now...
My little one....just two and a half....received a reprimanding small pat on the bottom for being naughty...She stared at me, went to the corner and screamed till she turned blue...she kept saying, 'don't do this'...it shocked me...I realized that she was trying to teach me...to converse, to communicate without having to be harsh...she was trying to tell me that she will listen, but only if treated with respect.
These were lessons I learnt and realized that I must have subjected so many people to the same harshness that my children were making me aware of....Happy teachers day kids!

Mail 'likho' to accha likho, warna mat likho!!

Have you ever written bad mails? I have, several of them...really bad ones - linguistically, semantically, syntactically and semiotically! Have you ever felt guilty? I have....because they have connected me to a psychological world....made me see myself....So why the guilt? Bad mails come with a purpose! they are your best psychologists and you don't have to pay in paper currency...but you pay....and they are expensive....they make you buy months of unease and disquiet...confused? See! this is why i say, try not to write Bad Mails! At least i have learnt that good mails keep you straight jacketed....leave you with a lot less to mourn about. But wait a minute....are bad mails those floating karmic signifiers that happen 'anyway'? aaaargh!!!!

एक मुट्ठी आसमान, दो सपने, और सहमा हुआ अस्तित्व

Now I have my own board....and the pen seems to have run out of ink...the mind races, refuses to settle down...the pen looks on..in despair.

Naming the Gaul way

As a child, my heart and soul lived in the 'Asterix Village'...err..well almost into adulthood...okay-okay..even now! I always wondered how they knew what babies would grow up to be, because their names seemed so apt! 'impedimenta', 'getafix', 'unhygenix'.....Even today, well into adulthood, my 'little mind' still believes that the gauls could predict the personalities from the faces of the babies. Am sure it had something to do with the druid's potion...So, when I had to name my babies..I peered and peered into their innocent faces like an old knowledgable peer (heh, that rhymes) and said - my little one is meant to be 'truthful'. Well, 11 years on...It is almost there....and the second time round we thought, she looks like a beautiful flower so out came a lovely hebrew name...and the closest we get to the botany of it is, the fragrance of a crushed petal because the little one loves its texture....Am sure i got it right this time by naming my blog - 'Egonomica'! Long live the Gauls!

I have landed! Thud!

I seem to have fallen for this medium finally...guess it is to save the poor unsuspecting souls from a barrage of mails..interesting semiotics this...a room where you can invite and yet not insist or fear the 'delete' button. also realized that the 'ego' needs a vent...welcome to myself, my lacanian mirror says - ah! maybe you have found you! So here i go...rolling...down the rabbit hole...