It’s that time again — we’re at the threshold of a whole new year filled with potential and promise…12 months stretching out ahead of us, when we can maybe rectify our mistakes from the previous year or gather the energy/initiative to achieve all that we wanted to last year but didn’t. At the stroke of 12:00 on 31 December 2009, sitting on the terrace of our hotel in Udaipur and watching the fireworks from the Lake Palace, we got around to discussing resolutions — their importance and relevance, resolutions we make and keep and those that we make and break.
At the dawn of a new year, we’re generally enthused about the “fresh” start ahead, and filled with that euphoria, list down all the things we wanted to do in the last year but didn’t, and call those our resolutions. We manage to keep them too, for a while, before discarding them on the wayside as we go about our daily grind.
So maybe instead of making resolutions, what we should make are goals — things we want to achieve in this year with definite action steps and a timeline. One resource that I find really handy when making my goals in the Goal setting workshop that I found about 5 years ago on a website called Tera’s Wish. Try it, it’s fun!
Watched James Cameron’s Avatar this weekend — it’s a brilliant movie!
The plot can essentially be summed up thus: Ex- marine Jake Sully manages to gain the trust of the indigenous Na’vi with the intent to double-cross them at the end. Along the way, though, he falls in love with cat woman Neytiri and with the philosophy and way of life of the cat people, finally leading an epic battle that will decide the fate of an entire world.
However, there is more to the movie than initially meets the eye. On one level, Avatar is a fantasy flick with stunning visual effects, but on another, it has a more shadowy subtext —a discussion about race, oppression and the annihilation of an indigenous people for access to natural resources. Cameron also draws heavily from Red Indian philosophy when characterizing the Na’vi people, be it their ritual of thanking the spirit of animals they kill for meat, their respect for nature, belief in the Ehwa (pure souls), or their gathering space under the Wisdom tree, where they can hear the voices of all the elders.
Dig a little deeper, and there’s a subtext on the length that developed countries are willing to go to secure oil or other natural resources (in the case of the movie, a rare mineral that can save the earth) —Col. Miles Quaritch giving orders to bomb the area that has the highest concentration of the mineral (right under the Na’vi’s wisdom tree). Makes you think back to the Gulf War and the battle against Iran.
Then there’s the colonizers creed — the indigenous people are always backward, even though they have a deeper understanding of nature and the environment, so give them western clothes, teach them the language, and get them to co-operate by any means possible. If that fails, use force. So what if their sacred spaces are destroyed?
Overall, Avatar scores because it caters to all kinds of viewers — those who just want to be entertained, and those who also want to think. Since there is no in-your-face preaching on the subtext of the movie, you can choose to ignore it and be amazed at the world of Pandora. Or you can have your cake and eat it too — enjoy the stunning visual effects while stimulating your mind. Either ways, you’re sure to love the movie!
Set in Nigeria, the novel traces the story of Kambili and Jaja, children of a rich, fanatical and oppressive Catholic patriarch Eugene Achike, presenting a moving picture of the effect of domestic violence on children; of religious fanaticism; of the political unrest in Nigeria and the privations and trials faced by Nigerians.
Eugene is a self-made Big Man. Brought up by Christian missionaries, he is a deeply religious, fanatical Catholic, who “punishes” his family for the slightest trespass against God, for not meeting his exacting standards or for disobeying him in any way. So deep is his fanaticism that he even ignores his own father, who is a “heathen,” and tells his children to “not eat in that heathen’s house.”
It isn’t until a military coup in Nigeria forces the children to live with their Aunt Ifeoma, where the laugher and conversations flow feely, that Kambili and Jaja begin to acknowledge the silence, oppression and violence that has marred their life so far. While Jaja is quick to adapt and acknowledge the past, it takes Kambili more time to get the “bubbles in her throat” to part and allow the words to flow out. It is at her aunt’s house that she meets her grandfather for an extended period, and learns that he is not a “heathen” but a “traditionalist,” described through a beautiful passage describing his daily morning prayer to the ancestors.
At her aunt’s house in Nuskka, she meets Father Amadi, a local priest who, unlike the priest back home Father Benedict, is a more easy-going and friendly, who sees nothing wrong in breaking into Igbo songs in the middle of rosary, and who takes an easier and more relaxed view of religion. This is her first taste of kindness from a grown man, and she transfers all her repressed love onto him.
The idyll of an escape from the oppressive atmosphere in Enugu is shattered when her aunt decides to leave for America and Father Amadi is transferred to Germany…
This novel is a beautiful coming of age story of 15-year old Kambili, a commentary on the political situation in Nigeria and a treatise on religious oppression.
I particularly enjoyed it because it gave me a peek into a new culture; exposed me to words that I had never heard before, such as umu m (my children), ke kwanu (how are you/how was your day?), nwunye m )mt wife); and introduced new smells, like that of frying plantains and bleaching palm oil. Though Adichie isn’t the first African author I’ve read, hers is the first book I’ve truly enjoyed. It most certainly is a must-read.
I came across this set of really cool articles in Open magazine, a relatively new weekly news magazine, that talk about reasons why Bombay hates Delhi, which is countered by why Delhi hates Bombay, and both these articles are then countered by the rest vs. Delhi and Bombay! Pretty interesting reading this.
I especially loved the one on why Bombay hates Delhi — maybe because I myself come from that side of the country — a lot of points made me say: “Yes! That is so true!” Sample this:
Space is not compressed here. Everything is far from everything else. There are real gardens where you do not see the exit when you stand at the entrance…Homes have corridors, and they are called corridors, not half-bedrooms. Yet, Delhi has a bestial smallness of purpose.
And a narrow mind — especially Delhi men!
Those men there who drive the long phallic cars, sometimes holding a beer bottle in one hand, there is something uncontrollable about them…What is the swagger about? What is the great pride in driving your father’s BMW, what is the glory in being a sperm? And what is the great achievement in stepping on the accelerator? It is merely automobile engineering—press harder on the pedal and the car will move faster. Why do you think a girl will mate with you for that?
Probably because of their “don’t you know who my father is” mentality. Power is everything here, with almost every second person claiming to be related or acquainted with a politician or a high-ranking police officer.
Delhi as a centre of power is an inheritance, a historical habit. An unbearable consequence of this is the proximity of easy funds for various alleged intellectual pursuits which has enabled it to appropriate the status of intellectual centre.
There is much weight attached to the imagined sophistication of talk, of gas. It is a city of talkers. There is always The Discussion…[there is] a meaningless aspect of Delhi’s fiery intellectuality, and also laid bare the crucial difference between intellectuality, which is borrowed conviction, and intelligence, which is creativity, innovation and original analysis…Delhi [suffers from a] mental condition which is incurable—a fake intensity, a fraudulent concern for ‘issues’, the grand stand.
Of course, there has to be a counter to this rather dim view of Delhi, though I must admit that I thought it wasn’t as convincing. Starting with a debate of fame vs. power, the article then meandered to Bombay being a city of dreamers…
In this city of people looking up without looking around, dreams are what matter. It is evident. The stock market, ad industry and Bollywood—whichever way you stack them, they make for too little reality.
…and then dissed Bombay for holding candlelight vigils, which, by the way, are now de rigueur in Delhi too!
When reality does sink in, all of Bombay responds as only Bombay can. Scented candles and designer dresses make for a procession of the fifteen thousand. Affronted as they are with the politicians and politics of this country, they ‘decide’ to teach the rest of us how things should be done.
The article touched upon the casteism, which sadly, is rising in Bombay, but the reason for the rise is power — political power. It’s a brilliant strategy if you think about it, but then, that is an altogether different discussion.
And then, there is the rest vs. Delhi and Bombay — one of the most hilarious, ironic articles I’ve read in recent times.
The article starts with a tongue-lashing on Delhi and Bomabay having to “kowtow kowtow to the fickle ways of the Bombay and Delhi weather,” and goes on to slam the efficient public transport in the two cities.
I utterly abhor the temerity of auto drivers from Bombay who, without exception, consider me unworthy of charging whatever grabs their fancy. What’s worse, they choose to take the high ground by being scrupulously honest about the whole business of taking me for a ride…Whatever happened to good old things like indecency and respecting what the customer can be ripped off for. It’s what I’ve come to expect and grown comfortably used to in Chennai. Why shock me senseless with your conscientious ways?
Delhi’s metro isn’t spared either!
For starters, what’s so great about offering an efficient and clean Metro Rail service when one can be pampered by the timeless pleasures of waiting for one to materialise and, in the meantime, making do with a service that’s considered frequent only by people who haven’t seen much better. Efficiency, I tell you—so over-rated and so unnecessary.
And then you come to the heart of the article — love.
Speaking of love, the thing about it, it’s easy to dish out in copious quantities when the recipient is a less fortunate soul, or city, worthy of pity.
And since Delhi and Bombay are not…Though,
Scratch the surface and you’ll find few people really hate Delhi, Bombay or the people from these great cities. What they are is jealous. And that’s what they hate. Happily, it’s okay to feel this way. I call it the ‘Australia syndrome’. Meaning what? Meaning this. So long as Australia were well-nigh unbeatable at cricket, it was eminently more comforting to hate them…Beatings apart, what’s not to hate about a country that’s so beautiful, so sunny, so clean, so spacious, so prosperous, so efficient, so livable (mostly) and, worst of all, possesses a cricket team so goddamn hard-to-beat? Naturally, the only option one had, since one couldn’t surpass them at anything important, was to hate them. Call them self-centered. Arrogant. Uncouth. Loud. And the like. Echoes how the rest of India feels about Bombay and Delhi, doesn’t it? Case closed.
Finally got some time to upload some of Pepo’s pictures! She’s such a joker and such a big bundle of joy, that you just want to keep on shooting as she goes about her daily antics!
Like her spiderman moments, when she jumps up on the balcony door demanding to be allowed out for 5 minutes, under strict supervision, so that she doesn’t go gallavanting off to explore all of the great big outdoors!
Iz spidey fan!
Or her play time, when she stalks around the house, her prey (here, a cute lil stuffed kitten!) firmly clamped between her jaws.
Hunting time
But the cutest has to be the way she sleeps…totally blissful and at peace with the world!
Iz happy!
For some more Pepo madness, check out my Picasa album here.
Manifestation so works! I’ve recently been thinking about all the stuff that we’ve accumulated at home and all the work and effort we’re going to need to put in to throw things out. And today, I came across an article on just that phenomenon of accumulating and discarding.
It seems to me that we spend the first half of our lives accumulating things and the second half getting rid of them, paring our possessions down to a manageable cache. At some point, it is important to take the time to catalogue what it is we have, what we have accumulated, what we hold onto, what we have carried with us through the years, and what we would be better of letting go of.
If we are to practice living life with intention, purpose, and appreciation, we are called to take stock — on every level imaginable — material, mental, emotional, and spiritual. And we feel the need to evaluate everything in terms of its value to us. Do our belongings, attitudes, ideas, obligations, commitments, habits, goals, dreams, relationships, and wardrobes still fit us? Do they suit us and our current life style? Are they flattering? Do they please us? Do they continue to serve us? Do they feed us what we need? Or do they drain our energy and slow us down by the amount of maintenance that they require?
The author then goes on to list out a number of suggestions for clearing out…like…
• Throw out, re-cycle, or donate one thing every day. This is a great practice in claiming what is important to you and discarding what is not.
• Eliminate one food from your diet that you know you should not eat. When you get used to living without it, eliminate one more.
• Send all of the novels that you know you will never re-read to a school or hospital library. And that pile of magazines, too.
• Clean out your medicine cabinet and cosmetic drawers. How many of the products crammed in there merely mask superficial symptoms and flaws rather than enhance your essential strength and beauty?
• Reduce stress through yoga, exercise, breathing techniques, warm baths, sex, music, art, meditation.
• Slough off the old, like a snake shedding its skin, or a butterfly its cocoon. Emerge renewed and energized.
She wandered on to hubby dearest’s tennis courts day before and played around there all evening while he was coaching. She made friends with all of the guys who work with him and won over all the children and parents sitting at his academy. I wanted him to get the kitten over that day itself, but he was biking down that day, so wasn’t able to get her.
They left her on the court that night, and I wasn’t too hopeful that she would be around the next day. But when his boys reached the court in the morning, there she was to say hello!
So, he finally got her home yesterday evening. She is just so darn adorable! Must be around 4-5 weeks old, so though I keep calling her “she,” I’m not too sure if its a “she” or a “he” yet! 😉
She plays around for a bit and then sleeps for the most part of the day. She was up and about early in the morning, so I had to get up around 6:30 am today (gasp!), but now, while I’m awake, she’s fast asleep!
Well, what’s that they say about cats?
Dogs have masters, cats have staff. – Anon
Yeah, right!
We’re not sure how long we’ll be able to keep her though. Have to see if she and Cleo get along — Cleo was scared out of her wits yesterday! It was so funny to see though! Here was this (comparitavey) big bunny sitting in her cage all huddled up and scared stiff, and here was an inquisitive little kitten peeking in, saying “Can we be friends?” Plus, as she grows bigger, we aren’t too sure if we’ll be able to handle her. So while I want to say “Yes! We’re keeping her!” my other half (he ain’t better! ;-)) is saying “Let’s see how it goes.” So as of now, we’re taking it one day at a time!
Watching Michael Jackson’s memorial service brought tears to my eyes. The troubled King of Pop has left an indelible mark on human history. His fame was unparalleled, as was his decline. Those who pointed fingers at him and blamed him did not realize that Michael never really grew up. He was a boy-man, a modern day Peter Pan. His music….the lives that he touched….the humanitarian work that he did….will live on as a lasting legacy behind him.
Let me leave you with the hauntingly beautiful poem that Dr. Maya Angelou wrote for Michael Jackson, which was read out by Queen Latifah at his memorial service.
We Had Him by Maya Angelou
Beloveds, now we know that we know nothing, now that our bright and shining star can slip away from our fingertips like a puff of summer wind.
Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace. Sing our songs among the stars and walk our dances across the face of the moon.
In the instant that Michael is gone, we know nothing. No clocks can tell time. No oceans can rush our tides with the abrupt absence of our treasure.
Though we are many, each of us is achingly alone, piercingly alone.
Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him.
He came to us from the creator, trailing creativity in abundance.
Despite the anguish, his life was sheathed in mother love, family love, and survived and did more than that.
He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style. We had him whether we know who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his.
We had him, beautiful, delighting our eyes.
His hat, aslant over his brow, and took a pose on his toes for all of us.
And we laughed and stomped our feet for him.
We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing. He gave us all he had been given.
Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana’s Black Star Square.
In Johannesburg and Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama, and Birmingham, England
I’ve been fascinated with the occult and divination methods, such as palmistry, the I-ching, Runes, etc., since a really long time. I’m even doing an altered book that has a Book of Shadows theme. A couple of weekends back, while browsing through the bookstore, I came across a tarot deck that wasn’t too highly priced, which was rare, and on an impulse, I bought it. I soon realized that that particular deck was a mistake — the cards were simply not “talking” to me — but I found myself fascinated with the cards.
So, within a week, I was back at the bookstore, where I purchased the Rider-Waite tarot deck, the only one that’s readily available here, and a comprehensive book on the tarot.
Around that time, while exploring on the internet, I also came across this really greatwebsite called Learning the Tarot, where author Joan Bunning has a tarot course up for free. It’s an excellent site to read about and learn the tarot.
The tarot is made up of 78 cards — 22 Major Aracna cards and 56 Minor Aracna cards.
Each of the Major Aracna cards corresponds to a significant life event, tracing the journey of an innocent adventurer (the Fool, card 0) as he evolves into one that has the world at his feet (the World, card XXI). Each card symbolizes an archetype, a classic role that we or others take on.
I especially loved Joan Bunning’s The Fool’s Journey. Not only does it help you to understand the cards in the Major Aracna, it also holds true about the way we go through life — our cycles of learning…falling, rising, learning…
It’s been fascinating learning about the cards, and some of my daily readings have resonated really well during my day. I didn’t have time to do one for today…but I might just draw a card at night to introspect and reflect on the day gone by.
I had to stretch my budget for the down payment on the car a bit, but did manage to get the monthly payments to fit within my budget. Plus, I get the latest technology without having to settle for the base model, and it’s such a peppy and fun car to drive!
Got my car loan sanctioned today — that was a real PAIN! I had thought I’d be able to get all the formalities done by 1:30/2:00 and go in to office, but by the time we were through at the bank, it was 3:00! By then my brains were fried, and I was dead beat after signing 48 checks! Am taking the loan from SBI — typical PSU bank — no efficiency in their work, things move leisurely…ugh! But, they offered the cheapest loan…so as they say, you gain some, you lose some!
I’m expecting the car to be delivered on Tuesday. I had initially wanted to get the delivery done over a weekend, but if the car comes in the beginning of the week, I don’t think that will be possible…and honestly, once I know it’s arrived on Tuesday, I doubt I’ll be able to wait until the weekend to go pick it up! Can hardly wait!!
So, within a week, I was back at the bookstore, where I purchased the Rider-Waite tarot deck, the only one that’s readily available here, and a comprehensive book on the tarot.
