Writers, poets and authors,
Help this young girl of 16 to master her writing skills. She is childish in words and childlike in thoughts. She is yet to grow out of rhymes and understand grimes. She writes about herself thus……
Blue spots in white
Dressed for the night
On the stage she runs
Lights flicker in turns
Sings ‘Little boy blue’
Hears applause new
Wears gowns in yellow
Knows not how to bellow
Studies lessons of books
Stays away from the crooks
Her eyes roll wide and far
For ‘Twinkle twinkle little star’
Walks her life with time
Tries to reason every rhyme
‘Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall’
She sits alone before a waterfall
Decides to write her feeling
Finds her outpours healing
Like the mother of ‘Three little kittens’
She wants her words to glisten
Alas! She sees them with a blot
Wonders how to gain a spot
To become a writer of bright
Does she need to swallow light?
Through her eyes....
Padmaja Balaji
:D
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
In search of you
Tender frills of crimson petals
Shake in tempting vigour
To soothe my eyes for a sweet doze
Silver traces of blemished moon
Smile in alluring invite
To close my eyes in shyness
Fearful dragons of incoherent dreams
Fly in capricious moves
To vibrate my eyes in a fit of dance
Bluish sizzlers of oceanic beauty
Swim in earthly stillness
To dribble my eyes with tears of joy
Iced flakes of stirring glaciers
Freeze in piling heights
To cool my eyes of lusterless sparkle
Heralded monuments of undying love
Urge in fancied ecstasies
To open my eyes for the world of hearts
Waking up thus in hope with restless eyes
I walk past the lovers of eternity
In search of you, my only love
This is my entry for Express Yourself Contest Week - 12.
Picture courtesy - Swayamprava
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Boundaries unlimited
There is a line of control. Two innocent boys standing behind the borders cross them only to get connected with each other with an urge to play soccer. And they play happily. This is an AirTel ad.
When I watched this ad for the first time, a lot of emotions stirred in me. What binds these two children? It is their innocence, of course as there is no barrier of any form of ego at this age.
Whenever I watch it, I wanted the big leaders of the East and West to take the message in a serious note; I wanted the smile of the boys be an inspiration for soldiers deputed in borders; I wanted the cheer to be imbibed by the young and the old alike; I wanted the ‘give and take’ to be followed among the rival nations not in terms of tortures but only as a gesture of goodwill; I wanted people to realize the greatness of a friendly atmosphere; I wanted all to be a part of one global village; and most importantly I wanted these physical lines of controls be permanently removed though the geographical boundaries be retained for ethical living.
It is an irony that we have to celebrate independence days and republic days to reiterate that we are a country of utmost freedom. But are we really?
The sacrifices done by the known and unknown sons and daughters of India and their ideologies and visions are safely guarded in the history books for competent competitions and school exams and to quote/unquote during election campaigns.
As a child, I used to get excited about the colourful parades & displays of different regiments of Army, Navy and Air Force. As years rolled by, I became a little matured and hence started appreciating the bravery awards given to the soldiers and would even dream of serving the country one day.
I became a little more matured and that’s when I realized the importance of these parades and awards in the truest sense. My eyes become moist whenever a frail widow walks upto the dais to collect the Param Vir Chakra Award. Unlike in films, the widow won’t be given an opportunity to speak in front of thousands accumulated there. She has to swallow her emotions, walk in paces dictated to her, hear the loud applause from the selfish hands, collect the award from the President and climb down silently.
When I think of all these on this day, I feel a pain in my heart for those who lost their lives for the freedom struggle, for those duty bound soldiers who lost their lives due to the irresponsible decisions of the leaders, for those who bore terrible tortures of mutations and punctures and died with a ‘Mera Bharat Mahan’ on their lips and for many reasons that could not be explained.
Sitting in a foreign land, I feel all the more patriotic towards India. Probably, that’s why I have whined loudly. Honestly, whenever I touch the Indian soil, I could feel a joyful shrill running down my spine, for I love my country very much. Yes, love once felt can never be truncated. It just flows in your being throughout.
Today my son has gone to Indian Embassy to sing patriotic songs. He’s proud to be one among the ten selected children representing his school. With all his innocence, he is excited about the gifts that awaited him.
I am glad that he is lucky enough to have memories associated with the Republic Day. I wish he realizes the significance of this day very soon and learns to respect all nations, their cultures and ideologies, for each one of them has their emotional & brave history to be proud of.
When I watched this ad for the first time, a lot of emotions stirred in me. What binds these two children? It is their innocence, of course as there is no barrier of any form of ego at this age.
Whenever I watch it, I wanted the big leaders of the East and West to take the message in a serious note; I wanted the smile of the boys be an inspiration for soldiers deputed in borders; I wanted the cheer to be imbibed by the young and the old alike; I wanted the ‘give and take’ to be followed among the rival nations not in terms of tortures but only as a gesture of goodwill; I wanted people to realize the greatness of a friendly atmosphere; I wanted all to be a part of one global village; and most importantly I wanted these physical lines of controls be permanently removed though the geographical boundaries be retained for ethical living.
It is an irony that we have to celebrate independence days and republic days to reiterate that we are a country of utmost freedom. But are we really?
The sacrifices done by the known and unknown sons and daughters of India and their ideologies and visions are safely guarded in the history books for competent competitions and school exams and to quote/unquote during election campaigns.
As a child, I used to get excited about the colourful parades & displays of different regiments of Army, Navy and Air Force. As years rolled by, I became a little matured and hence started appreciating the bravery awards given to the soldiers and would even dream of serving the country one day.
I became a little more matured and that’s when I realized the importance of these parades and awards in the truest sense. My eyes become moist whenever a frail widow walks upto the dais to collect the Param Vir Chakra Award. Unlike in films, the widow won’t be given an opportunity to speak in front of thousands accumulated there. She has to swallow her emotions, walk in paces dictated to her, hear the loud applause from the selfish hands, collect the award from the President and climb down silently.
When I think of all these on this day, I feel a pain in my heart for those who lost their lives for the freedom struggle, for those duty bound soldiers who lost their lives due to the irresponsible decisions of the leaders, for those who bore terrible tortures of mutations and punctures and died with a ‘Mera Bharat Mahan’ on their lips and for many reasons that could not be explained.
Sitting in a foreign land, I feel all the more patriotic towards India. Probably, that’s why I have whined loudly. Honestly, whenever I touch the Indian soil, I could feel a joyful shrill running down my spine, for I love my country very much. Yes, love once felt can never be truncated. It just flows in your being throughout.
Today my son has gone to Indian Embassy to sing patriotic songs. He’s proud to be one among the ten selected children representing his school. With all his innocence, he is excited about the gifts that awaited him.
I am glad that he is lucky enough to have memories associated with the Republic Day. I wish he realizes the significance of this day very soon and learns to respect all nations, their cultures and ideologies, for each one of them has their emotional & brave history to be proud of.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Monumental moments
Silken hair playing in breeze
Soft blemish less glowing skin
Lovely expressive black eyes
Innocent smile on the lips
Cherubic face of angelic beauty
Words of grace resonating in air
In a moment of idyllic freeze, I saw her
Soaking drops of honey into my heart
She whispered her thin voice into my ears
Flapping her innocence all along
She laughed at my meaningless chatter
Widening my experience of undying love
She dismissed my egotistic caricatures
In a moment of moments, I was all hers
Wrote sonnets and songs on our love
As she was my object of admiration
Ate her half baked bread & porridge
As she became my soul of life and death
Enjoyed her care that made me feel special
As she giggled ‘we are made for each other’
In a moment unexpected, I lost her permanently
Wished she could come alive for my sake
For my life trembled without her concern
Soft breeze sounded like a typhoon
And clock ticking banged my heads
Without her warmth and loving chides
My beard became my identity soon
In a moment of sadness, I chiseled my pain as a book
Left aside my fortune to a charity
And settled in a hut with memories
Simplified my life with a loaf of bread
And little porridge in her remembrance
Keeping the knife of dispassion in front
I prayed in earnest for my last breath
In a moment of peace, I experienced her in my heart
Walked through those monumental moments…
Her virgin beauty radiating freshness
Her charming, shy walk in the bridal outfit
Her affectionate motherly taunts echoing love
Her playful pranks heralding childlike demeanor
Her soft heart that prayed for the welfare of all.…
In a moment of Graceful realisation, I held her again
This poem is my contribution for Poetry Contest - Week 11.
Picture courtesy - Raja Ramachandra
Concept courtesy - Latha
Succulent bites
There was a book, a movie and me on a cold winter day.
The movie – Taare Zameen Par (2007)
The book – The Cuckoo’s Egg by Dr. Cliff Stoll (1990)
Try reading and watching them on the same day. I’m sure, like me, you too would end up thinking of the contrasting worlds depicted therein.
On one side, I was thoroughly moved by the sterling performance of the young Darsheel Safary who carried the film on his tender shoulders so effortlessly. He has played the role of a dyslexic child, Ishaan Awasthi in the film.
Ishaan Awasthi, a third grade student finds difficulty in reading and writing. He sees dancing letters while reading, mixes up spellings while writing, does shabby work and scores poorly in all subjects. When it comes to painting, his hands create master strokes. To discipline Ishaan, his parents pack him off to a Boarding School where life gets tougher day by day. He loses self-confidence and stops painting his sweet world of colours. A temporary art teacher connects Ishaan’s problem to dyslexia, trains his reading and writing skills and brings back his lost confidence. Ultimately, the teacher who was once dyslexic makes the boy’s parents realise that Ishaan is a winner in his own merit.
Thanks to Aamir Khan and Amole Gupte, dyslexia has become the most understood and talked about neurological disorder among teachers, parents and students today. Google hits on dyslexia must have soared by now at least in the Indian sub-continent.
On the other side, I was thrown open to a mystery novel that was spine chilling. Did I say ‘novel’? No, it’s not. In fact, it is a real life logbook of an astronomer turned computer specialist. The book starts with Dr. Cliff Stoll trying to audit the difference of 75 cents shown by two different accounting packages. He slowly digs out the users’ list, finds one inactive account ‘Sventek’ logged in only for a few minutes in an unsuspicious way.
The X man (hacker) challenges the system managers and chases the classified documents marked ‘nuclear’ or ‘SDI’ all over American systems through Cliff’s computer. Cliff’s official time on astrophysics and personal life of washing dishes and a good night sleep are slowly and steadily overtaken by the hacker. Through the hacker’s trail, Cliff learns not only the loopholes of Unix and other machines but also different Military, Army & Air Force Offices scattered across the globe. In trying to resolve this issue, he comes face to face the worst form of bureaucracy prevalent in FBI, CIA, NSA etc. At many places, you may feel the hacker is trapped but he would spring forth hale and healthy. What seems like a simple game in the beginning becomes a full fledged Hollywood drama in the end.
Though the book is published in 1990s and may seem outdated in terms of technology, the basics remain the same. In fact, it is very much appealing even today.
I recollect a strange incident that happened to me a few months back. I was a member of a Tamil forum wherein I used to post my poems and articles. One day, to my horror, my access to the forum was denied. When I tried to reach the authorities through personal mails, I found that there was an unscrupulous attack on the forum. The attacker’s IP was somewhat similar to mine, my log in matched his timing and hence my IP was also blocked. Of course, I was given privileges in half an hour’s time.
Well. Having read the book half-way through, I rushed out to watch TZP only to be swayed by tender emotions. Upon my return, I could not resist finding out how the cuckoo’s egg was thwarted. Probably that’s why I noticed a sea of difference in their subjects.
The film stirred my heart whereas the book whipped my brain.
One was inviting me to listen to individual problems whereas the other was highlighting the global problem.
One painted the emotional dependence beautifully whereas the other swiftly took me to the world of selfish interpretation of independence and intrusion.
One talked of mental instability due to birth disorders whereas the other talked of mental instability arising out of greed for money.
One requested me to touch lives in a humane way whereas the other coded and decoded my brain cells to be cautious with virtual lives.
While the film reminded me to trust and love all at any cost, the book gave me an impression never to trust eccentric computer wizards, for they find it ‘cool’ to hack passwords and test others at any cost.
Interestingly, I found a point of intersection as well. What’s it?
Cliff had none of the best sellers to his credit before writing this book. But he made it big. There is a general notion that computer books or related novels can be enjoyed only by those who have a firm idea on them. Whoever reads this book would definitely find his/her myth shattered for it is absolute darling to all kinds of readers. Though ignorant of many technological jargons, I could still feel the thrill on every page, every emotion Cliff had undergone in front of his computer and every minute he spent with his sweetheart Martha. The crux is driven into my dull mind easily.
Dyslexia would continue to remain safely locked in the medical books, spill softly from the tongues of doctors and appease curiosity of the learners of medical information, had there not been a commercial interpretation of the problem into a sensible film like ‘Taare Zameen Par’. Of late, the disorder has become everybody’s tongue twister and heart warmer. And I am a part of this crowd.
I realised then that the creative and lucid handling of the subject has made them clear winners.
Of course, I understood alongside that a neat work, rhythmic & interesting flow and simplicity are all needed to reach a common man.
As a writer, I wish to closely affiliate myself with this magic formula and master it one day.
P.S. I thank Mr. Rahul Prabhakar for prompting me to write this article, without which it wouldn't have been strung in words.
The movie – Taare Zameen Par (2007)
The book – The Cuckoo’s Egg by Dr. Cliff Stoll (1990)
Try reading and watching them on the same day. I’m sure, like me, you too would end up thinking of the contrasting worlds depicted therein.
On one side, I was thoroughly moved by the sterling performance of the young Darsheel Safary who carried the film on his tender shoulders so effortlessly. He has played the role of a dyslexic child, Ishaan Awasthi in the film.
Ishaan Awasthi, a third grade student finds difficulty in reading and writing. He sees dancing letters while reading, mixes up spellings while writing, does shabby work and scores poorly in all subjects. When it comes to painting, his hands create master strokes. To discipline Ishaan, his parents pack him off to a Boarding School where life gets tougher day by day. He loses self-confidence and stops painting his sweet world of colours. A temporary art teacher connects Ishaan’s problem to dyslexia, trains his reading and writing skills and brings back his lost confidence. Ultimately, the teacher who was once dyslexic makes the boy’s parents realise that Ishaan is a winner in his own merit.
Thanks to Aamir Khan and Amole Gupte, dyslexia has become the most understood and talked about neurological disorder among teachers, parents and students today. Google hits on dyslexia must have soared by now at least in the Indian sub-continent.
On the other side, I was thrown open to a mystery novel that was spine chilling. Did I say ‘novel’? No, it’s not. In fact, it is a real life logbook of an astronomer turned computer specialist. The book starts with Dr. Cliff Stoll trying to audit the difference of 75 cents shown by two different accounting packages. He slowly digs out the users’ list, finds one inactive account ‘Sventek’ logged in only for a few minutes in an unsuspicious way.
The X man (hacker) challenges the system managers and chases the classified documents marked ‘nuclear’ or ‘SDI’ all over American systems through Cliff’s computer. Cliff’s official time on astrophysics and personal life of washing dishes and a good night sleep are slowly and steadily overtaken by the hacker. Through the hacker’s trail, Cliff learns not only the loopholes of Unix and other machines but also different Military, Army & Air Force Offices scattered across the globe. In trying to resolve this issue, he comes face to face the worst form of bureaucracy prevalent in FBI, CIA, NSA etc. At many places, you may feel the hacker is trapped but he would spring forth hale and healthy. What seems like a simple game in the beginning becomes a full fledged Hollywood drama in the end.
Though the book is published in 1990s and may seem outdated in terms of technology, the basics remain the same. In fact, it is very much appealing even today.
I recollect a strange incident that happened to me a few months back. I was a member of a Tamil forum wherein I used to post my poems and articles. One day, to my horror, my access to the forum was denied. When I tried to reach the authorities through personal mails, I found that there was an unscrupulous attack on the forum. The attacker’s IP was somewhat similar to mine, my log in matched his timing and hence my IP was also blocked. Of course, I was given privileges in half an hour’s time.
Well. Having read the book half-way through, I rushed out to watch TZP only to be swayed by tender emotions. Upon my return, I could not resist finding out how the cuckoo’s egg was thwarted. Probably that’s why I noticed a sea of difference in their subjects.
The film stirred my heart whereas the book whipped my brain.
One was inviting me to listen to individual problems whereas the other was highlighting the global problem.
One painted the emotional dependence beautifully whereas the other swiftly took me to the world of selfish interpretation of independence and intrusion.
One talked of mental instability due to birth disorders whereas the other talked of mental instability arising out of greed for money.
One requested me to touch lives in a humane way whereas the other coded and decoded my brain cells to be cautious with virtual lives.
While the film reminded me to trust and love all at any cost, the book gave me an impression never to trust eccentric computer wizards, for they find it ‘cool’ to hack passwords and test others at any cost.
Interestingly, I found a point of intersection as well. What’s it?
Cliff had none of the best sellers to his credit before writing this book. But he made it big. There is a general notion that computer books or related novels can be enjoyed only by those who have a firm idea on them. Whoever reads this book would definitely find his/her myth shattered for it is absolute darling to all kinds of readers. Though ignorant of many technological jargons, I could still feel the thrill on every page, every emotion Cliff had undergone in front of his computer and every minute he spent with his sweetheart Martha. The crux is driven into my dull mind easily.
Dyslexia would continue to remain safely locked in the medical books, spill softly from the tongues of doctors and appease curiosity of the learners of medical information, had there not been a commercial interpretation of the problem into a sensible film like ‘Taare Zameen Par’. Of late, the disorder has become everybody’s tongue twister and heart warmer. And I am a part of this crowd.
I realised then that the creative and lucid handling of the subject has made them clear winners.
Of course, I understood alongside that a neat work, rhythmic & interesting flow and simplicity are all needed to reach a common man.
As a writer, I wish to closely affiliate myself with this magic formula and master it one day.
P.S. I thank Mr. Rahul Prabhakar for prompting me to write this article, without which it wouldn't have been strung in words.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Guruji speaks
* I received a letter from a young girl. She wrote that she had scored good marks. There were positive changes in her. She found these changes in her family members. She attributed these to Meditations. She was meditating regularly. Her lines touched my heart and I spent a lot of time contemplating on the events. I wondered why do adults not achieve the results that this wonderful little girl could achieve. I realised that it is her sincerity and innocence that made the difference. We have to become children. We have to go back to our innocence. That is perhaps the essence of Sadhana.
* I want people to come and receive what my Guru and God have graced me with —knowledge, energies and simple ways. Not many come, which is a natural thing. We are at such times that we cannot expect everyone to come only for this purpose.
A soul attracts similar souls or souls of similar category. All souls do not come from the same origin. A soul from a particular origin attracts souls from the same origin. And souls in a particular Spiritual condition attract souls which are in a similar Spiritual condition. When a soul's Spiritual condition changes, the souls it attracts also changes.
These are the excerpts from January 2008 Newsletter.
P.S. This is my 100th blog post. Never knew that I have so much to write and share with others.
I thank you for your love, care, encouragement and being a part of my life. God bless!
* I want people to come and receive what my Guru and God have graced me with —knowledge, energies and simple ways. Not many come, which is a natural thing. We are at such times that we cannot expect everyone to come only for this purpose.
A soul attracts similar souls or souls of similar category. All souls do not come from the same origin. A soul from a particular origin attracts souls from the same origin. And souls in a particular Spiritual condition attract souls which are in a similar Spiritual condition. When a soul's Spiritual condition changes, the souls it attracts also changes.
These are the excerpts from January 2008 Newsletter.
P.S. This is my 100th blog post. Never knew that I have so much to write and share with others.
I thank you for your love, care, encouragement and being a part of my life. God bless!
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Crossing the seas
Sea of memories danced in a flamenco beat
Wish I had skills to façade them as a feast
Sea of desires fancied my world of illusions
Wish I had a wand to fulfill their actions
Sea of things engulfed the senses to boast
Wish I had the power unlimited to hoard
Sea of worries drowned me in a quicksand
Wish I had a band to pull my dragging errand
Sea of people bordered me with bonds
Wish I had cornered them all with acts
Sea of time thus pushed me to the end
Wish I could unwind my deeds in a bend
Ah! Seeing now the image of these seas
Wish I had the wisdom to live in peace
Forget and forgive I understood at once
Wish I had wings to cross these seas once
Came out of my den in a fit of tremor
Galloped quickly on my white horse of power
Shirking off the myths that made me blind
I laughed at the illusion of sun and sea that bind
Shimmering red waters washed my eyes in red
My self was burnt awaiting a fresh life to tread
Standing at the cliff of death with a gentle smile
Dived into oblivion in a fearless style
Leaving my remnants of nothingness behind
In air I swim lovingly towards my destination
P.S. Poetry Contest 10; Picture courtesy - Elegance 20
Sunday, January 06, 2008
To love is not a sin
My life was dull and void
Full of caring people
But none I owned myself
Balancing the bamboo bridge
My steps echoed monotony
On a cold slumber evening
Hearing the moans and cries
I quickly diverted my feet
Disarraying my phase
Ah! Abandoned as it seemed
He yearned for my warm hand
To hug his soft body
The moment I picked him up
He wriggled inside my arms
As if never to leave me
Was thrilled to realize
Of my dream come true
As stars too nodded in blinks
Reached home to share my joy
With my dream boy hand in hand
But hiding him behind
I was welcomed by a kitty
A loving gift of Mama & Papa
For this single lonely girl
My eyes expanded matching my parents
Who froze for a moment
Upon seeing my treasure
There was a roar of joy & laughter
For the puppy and kitty
Drank milk from the same cup
Cartoons awaited on TV
As I was never satiated
With my lovely Pretty & Browny
The two were then made to sit
On either side of the vase
Atop the colourless idiot box
While Pretty was sitting prettily
Browny was about to jump in panic
Which Papa caught right in his camera
They are playing now in the garden
Who drink milk and eat fish
From the same red bowl
I don’t understand why people wonder
When they see this phenomenon
Of love among enemies
Let me reveal you something….
My life is full of life now
For I understood that
To love is not a sin
To love is only a win
P.S. This is my contribution for Caption Contest - Week 9.
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