Thursday, 24 September 2015

Why not Grammar obsessive/fetish instead of Grammar nazi?

The word Nazi in 'Grammar nazi' leaves me a bit disturbed. Whenever I come across that phrase, I stop and completely oblivious of the first part of the phrase, start contemplating the second part. 'Nazi' brings to my mind holocaust, gas chambers and The Boy in Striped Pyjamas. It makes me sad and gloomy. Not always but most of the times. I wonder who coined this phrase! Yes, I can hear you when you think that I am making a mountain out of a mole-hill but aren't words powerful? Don't they have the power to bring memories? Don't they pierce?

Words are powerful and make a deep impact, if you know what I mean. There are many such terms which evoke gory memories and ill-fated times. A word is enough to transport the mind to memories that are tinged with sorrow and hurt. The words, ''rainbow,'' alongside bringing the picture of seven lovely stripes set in a curve also bring pictures of the LGBT community and their struggles. So the rainbow is not a rainbow alone!

Many of us know the oft-quoted saying, ''Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,'' but the pain caused by sticks and stones will pass unlike the hurt caused by words. It sears, lives and throbs within the crevices of the mind.

So, next time you utter something, dear reader, pause. think. utter.

Leaving you with a personal favourite number, Words by Boyzone

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

Visions around me

Mandovi serenely flowing

A hoary tree at Campal

A wee sun bird toiling at its nest (Spotted outside my window in my garden)

Three different pictures taken at different places make me come alive with the vision that surrounds and uplifts me. I feel glad to be able to partake in the beauty that without any effort is presented to my sight.

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Seasons are slipping by . . .

Seasons are slipping by . . .

I thrive

I love

I complain

I wallow

I wander







I try

I try

I give up

I moan

I sleep

I wish

I sink







I rise

I hope

I dream

I live

I thrive

I love


Seasons are slipping by

Thursday, 20 August 2015

When (modern) married women converse

Ah, it's such a relief . . .

We need to do more of these outings . . .

Such a breather . . .

Retail therapy is soulful . . . Indeed!

Hmmm, how nice to sip coffee outside home . . .

We need our space, you know . . .

Sometimes I feel like shooting that man . . .

Yes, I can understand . . .

Am I taking too much time on choosing . . . nay, after all you are spending money . . .

I feel cheated when the lover has turned into a husband . . .


You feel like this too? (Loud chuckle)

Have the read . . .

We should do a movie and lunch one day . . . next month?

I think I love the way my life is now! . . .

I miss those carefree spendthrift days of College . . .

I miss my mom! . . .

How did our parents manage? . . .

That &*$% son-of-a-gun . . .


A lovely evening well-spent!

We need to do more of these outings . . .

Wednesday, 8 July 2015

The process of writing never stops . . .

These days I find myself ghost-writing in my thoughts over and over whenever I find something interesting and worth jotting down. There was a time when I had the patience, luxury and adrenaline rush to capture my thoughts in my blog but then, like everything beautiful comes to a momentary halt (with promises of renewal), I sparsely felt the need to post. I discovered that inspite of not giving a form to my thoughts in the form of posts, I mentally write within my mind. Yes, that's why I say that the process of writing never stops. It continues albeit without a palpable medium.

I realised this quite late because I was perpetually in a state of guilt and anger in equal measure when I saw that my blog is lying in a state of neglect almost like the memories of an old lover who remains within but rarely demands any attention. I knew that my blog is there, safe, still read by some (the growing statistics tell me that) and bookmarked by some others to be read in leisure. But the ache of seeing the last entry dated a month ago does not bring any consolation to my otherwise active mind. In the interim, I have been closely observing my mind! Strange as it may sound, I have stumbled upon some interesting thought processes that marginally cut down my guilt quotient. I am always writing posts within my head - not the scribbling in a worn out journal but paragraphs neatly organised with a propah introduction, middle and conclusion, like I always say to my class!

I wonder whether this happens to everyone and if so, how long do these entries stay. For me, they stay a while until the next interesting subject comes along. I am afraid my mind has not served as a container so far, only a medium - that too a virtual one. I wonder if there is a procedure to tap one exact nerve and extricate all the posts and translate them to coherent words that would show up on my blog as posts. If wishes were horses, nay blog posts, I would be one content soul happily basking in the glory of my thoughts which I know would eventually get fed on my blog!

Until the technology makes my wish happen, I will hopefully continue the process of writing, sorry ghost-writing in my mind and maybe sometimes, I would stop by my wee blog and strive to record these precious nuggets of memory.

Dear reader, what have you been doing with your thoughts, if I may probe.

Thursday, 14 May 2015

Sights of summer 5: Rain

Oh yes, Rain in summer is something that is good for the mangoes (and also for our sagging-by-the-heat spirits!), they say and in some places these showers are called Mango Showers. They are welcome and not as welcome. We love reasons for some relief from the sweltering heat and hence look forward to these showers while well-meaning people who have been there and know the weather/climate wisely nod saying, These showers will neither cool the temperatures nor bring relief, they will only rise the degree of humidity. Ah, but we never did care for those lines of wisdom and only lived for that moment it rained (we believed in the now, you see!). Well, the showers do not last long but until they poured, we were overjoyed. I always tend to wonder whether the mango trees/flowers benefitted from the showers. They would have, I am sure!

Rain, which is the most unexpected visitor of warm, sweaty and humid days, feeds our thirst for a little degree of change. Perhaps this is the only time, we no not crave for warmth, literally! This rain is like hope which assures us that summer will not last long and soon we will welcome grey skies and potholes filled with water.

Even as I tap the keys of my computer, I hear the pitter-patter of rain. It is but 11: 13 am but it seems as though the dusk is about to envelop. It is wonderful to remain indoors (read home) as it rains outside. Being at home ensures that one can delight in the rain without having to bother about dirty roads, slush and slips. Rain is not rain alone but other added things as well.

Here, I fondly remember a song by Cliff Richard Summer Rain:

. . .Summer rain will come again so the
Harvest is a good one
But if you don't respond to me I am lost
You're the only hope I have to bring
Forth the fruit in season
Now I know I need you to survive
You, you are my dream . . .


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