....

In His realm reigns rhapsody
that reverberates and resurrects fallen souls.

In His realm it’s rudimentary
to resuscitate with life pristine .

In His realm you ruminate,
revive and redeem!

An Entity!

I’m an entity
nameless because my name is taboo.
The perilous sea engulfs
and deeper I plunge in the vast blue.

I search ,
change shape,
become the five elements,
roaring sea and rustling wind
yet unheard.
Because I’m only an entity.

In tune...

It’s the time of the year when there’s a parade of ‘woolies’, porcelain coffee mugs , indulgence in fattening savories and loads of ‘reads’. Yes, winter time in the desert can be heart warming with Christmas spreading good will and nature in its bounty showering upon us the blissful season. We rejoice to be out in Nature’s lap, camping and trekking in the ‘wadis’ and ‘wurayahs’ nurturing our primitive instincts. We feed in burnt meat and sleep to the sound of howling wind while the pattering rain take us back to the land of our birth long forgotten and deserted. We are the dunes that allow the wind to chart our destiny. Like the falcon, we soar glorious in our prime and like the camel we resist , steadfast and determined.In the vastness of sand we explore and grow. Yes, we are finely tuned to our new habitat , our home of the present.

Strike!

Strike a match

or strike a friendship

no difference,

explosives

volatile and devastating.

European poets on the Underground!

The waves,

blue walls of Africa

go and come back.

When they go...

Ah! to go with them!

Miracle…

The assurance
while the world rested
left a trace of grace
energizing spiritualism
instilling hope
of the love far and beyond.

MOMENT!

We lived it all in a flash
More a lightening
And now, through it all, we’ll live.

The forward trail is a lingering memory
both pleasure and pain
a catharsis and a redemption.


Only we know why.
and we don’t lie or sigh.


The reminiscence will energize battered souls.
With that hope we savour the moment so dear.

Untitled

Together for art,the jam and the tart;
Strawberries and cream.

Talk of the weather
Sip summer wine
drowning in splendor,
soaring and floating.
Be the bird, be the toad.
Autumn breeze
winter freeze
bloom in spring
sizzle in summer’s sting
in a garden divine

Come add life
and forget the strife.
For too soon it’ll be dawn.
A traveler’s memoir must be a repertoire.

Commentary of the day

Blessed Teresa of Calcutta (1910-1997), founder of the Missionary Sisters of Charity
A Simple Path

"We are unprofitable servants"

Do not worry about why problems exist in the world – just respond to
people's needs. Some say to me that if we give charity to others it'll
diminish the responsibility of government towards the needy and the poor. I
don't concern myself with this, because governments do not usually offer
love. I just do what I can do: the rest is not my business. God
has been so good to us: works of love are always a means of becoming closer
to God. Look at what Jesus did in His life on earth! He spent it just doing
good (Acts 10,38). I remind the sisters that three years of Jesus's life
were spent healing the sick and the lepers, children and other people; and
that's exactly what we're doing, preaching the Gospel through our actions.
It is a privilege for us to serve, and it's a real,
wholehearted service that we try and give. We feel what we are doing is
just a drop in the ocean, but that ocean would be less without that
drop.

Coincidence

The coincidence caused the warp
almost like the bite of a carp.

But never mind it all.
For, it was just a coincidence after all
and this, just a momentary moment to live withal.

Soon with age memory will fade,
and the coincidence will be yellow,
and far too shallow,
and life, finally, will be mellow.

Musings on the 'fall'.

Why on Earth did Newton not eat the fallen apple? Why did he ever have to wonder for the reason behind its fall? Why did he so complicate the act of falling and put us in a dilemma?
Had I been in his place I would have savored the fruit in all its goodness; that would have not just satisfied my appetite but saved mankind from ‘Calculus’ as well.
Unfortunately, now for Newton’s sake I have to wonder why the ‘fall’ is always perpendicular to the ground and constant to the earth’s center.
Meantime I also wonder where on Earth these findings will take me. Will I be ‘perpendicularly’ steadfast’ in my determination to meet my goals or will I halfway go ‘sideways’(unlike any falling object) instead not having been able to cope with the Universal law of gravity?
However, my sincere hope is that the gravity of my knowledge will keep me suspended perpendicular to my ‘goal’ and one day lead to the discovery of a greater theory that will confuse mankind further.

Now, am I not smart, Miss?

Rejoice..

'May today there be peace within.
May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.
May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content with yourself just the way you are.
Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.'

SMILE...

And finally, when you smiled,
the world glowed
yellow and bold!

Spring sprung forth,
brought an avalanche of mirth.

Flowers, purple and blue
spread mystical hue,
enchanted the lute and his flute

 music mesmerized,
chastised and baptized.

Shaken and awoken
were men by that Smile
for a while.

Is it at a price?

‘Look at this Ma, isn’t this card cool? The boy on the cover looks just like me! Look at the spiky hair do, so much like mine and don’t miss the bike. Oh, Nanu, you know me so well! Mum, mum, look at Nanu’s hand writing, she wishes me, ‘Happy Birthday’ and says I’m the best brother! This card makes me so happy; can I display it on my table, Ma?’
So here is my son’s elation at the receipt of a ‘Snail Mail’ and he’s of the present generation! The sparkle in his eyes can actually light up his room. The picture, the handwriting, the touch and feel of the card has strengthened the brother sister affection in a way modern day electronic mails can’t.
This takes me back to my days of yore when I spent hours at ‘Archie’s Gallery’ trying to make the right pick. Everything mattered; the words, photo, size, colour, shape and the price. So much of the time that is spent so sparingingly these days was given to the details that finally led to the process of decision making.Every card on the display shelf was a piece of art and that, to be honest made choosing difficult. Often I wondered at the amount of time spent at getting every detail in place, the creativity caught my attention most of all.Out of all the varieties, my favourite were the Blue Mountain Cards with poems by Amanda Bradley. It always happened that the words in print were the words of my heart, just what I wanted to say!
I still recall the emotions experienced when I received these cards; the joyful and sad tear shed, the silent laughter, the peace or even the disturbance! And,just like my son, I would pull them out and read them over and over again. Then,they would be neatly stored in the ‘secret hideout’ section of my cabinet that I delved into in my quiet time.
Christmas being the season of hope and goodwill, I limited my selection to either ‘CRY’ or ‘UNICEF’. Then was the time when focus was given to charity. Today these greetings are exchanged through the net but those were days of the ‘snail mail’. After the selection and the buying came the 'writing your own message' and then the trip to the post office, where you bought the stamps, struggled to glue with the post offices’ tailor-made glue that only messed your hands and envelope, the writing of the address and finally dropping them in the right boxes.My home town post office had two letter boxes; the red one was for letters to be delivered within the country and the green for the ones to be sent abroad. It was a whole day affair but every part was as enjoyable and worthwhile. It didn’t end there though! The next step was anticipation of the receivers reaction through his/her reply which depended on where he/she was located. During the times when you were lucky the reply came within a week and when not it was waiting for a fortnight or even a month. Sometimes, you just waited hopelessly and anticipation remained anticipation. However, there was no giving in, the cycle continued, the card shops were where I'd spend my pocket money and time.
Then all too suddenly the ‘Age of the Mouse’ dawned. I woke up to ‘blaring technology’ and today everything is a ‘click’. Emotions find vent on the screen of the ‘Laptop’ and I’m but a humble servant of the gizmo.My words are far too measured and sparse.It's the time of brevity and I have to go with the flow!

MY HOME, MY OWN!

That which is mine is truly divine, the reason being because it defines and portrays! I see the ‘ME’ taking shape in the artifacts that adorn the space that is ‘mine’. It’s a persona; an exemplification and a voice. One finds identity in what one owns hence the constant desire to own!

HOME, the simple four letter word swells in meaning and significance. It’s a hearth where one finds warmth and comfort, peace and ease, place and definition. Here, you are at liberty to tear off your garb of plasticity, it’s the place where your voice is loud and clear and because you are in control, things fall in place and the ‘center can hold’ as per your standards. Everything speaks of the owner. These artifacts have passed through tedious scrutiny before being given the honour to adorn ,the governing factor here is how harmonious or productive the ambience will be with its presence. Therefore, everything, inconsiderate of the size and price has its own quiet story to tell and contribution to make to produce a bigger picture. This is mainly why houses are homes, distinct and remarkable.

With houses being such an important place and so essential to calm the senses, wouldn’t it be nice to be able to transfer a bit of that warmth to our workplace as well? We, the people of IAT are fortunate that way, the genie with a vision has granted us our wish, the concept of 'HOMEROOMS' is in practice and we all have a ‘HOME” at work. Hence, each morning after a stressful battle with the traffic, we walk into our 'breathing space', peaceful, calm, serene and orderly. The day begins well and positive energy, zeal and enthusiasm is at its brim. It appears like spring has suddenly sprung forth with the entire complex vibrant and colourful.The uniqueness of each one’s taste is seen in the room that so well defines the owner. There’s no chance for boredom or monotony. Instead, there’s expectance, eagerness and hope. These rooms though part of the same frame is yet so typical , so remarkable and so characteristic.The feeling of peace that you experience as you walk in is a sure sign of ease and everyone would agree that such an ambience definitely encourages learning to the maximum. It also passes on the message of orderliness and respect; respect to the learning environment, respect to culture, respect to property and respect to good manners.

Respect as I understand is the first step to learning and with everything in harmony there’s no doubt learning will come full circle.

PEACE.

The headline of the Gulf News, dated 10/10/09 reads, ‘A NOBEL WINNER, FOR WHAT?’

The announcement of this year’s Nobel Peace Prize winner has raised far too many eyebrows and caused too many speculations. Be it in the social network, the papers or normal ‘chit chats’, the question is ‘for what?
On the other hand, the Norwegian Prize Committee stands clear of its decision. An excerpt from the statement reads, ‘the Nobel Peace Prize for 2009 is awarded to President Barrack Obama for his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between people. Obama as a president has created a new climate in international politics. Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world’s attention and given the people hope for a better future. His diplomacy is founded in the concept that those who are to lead the world must do so on the basis of values and attitudes that are shared by the majority of the world’s population. For 108 years the Norwegian Committee has sought to stimulate precisely that international policy and those attitudes for which Obama is now world’s leading spokesman.’

The Nobel Committee head, Thorbjoern Jagland further clarified the decision by saying, ‘It was because we would like to support what he’s trying to achieve.’

Having read all of the above, I feel its time we followed Spencer Johnson, the author of 'Who Moved my Cheese' and accept change graciously. Decisions change , the grounds on which decisions are made change,and, if it is for the good of humanity then why not? After all, we are the same people who nine months ago agreed that Barrack Obama was a visionary and a true leader .Why then do we want to deny him this encouragement to set an example for the rest of the leaders to follow?
Let this award be a call to action for all.

TRANSITIONS

Sometimes I wish to wake up to the chimes of the prayer wheels, the chant of the 'RED ROBES' and the lulling aroma of the incense. The serenity and the peace of such an ambience live only in memories. That ‘huge’ house and the equally ‘huge’ number of ‘RED ROBES' often come to me in the form of a dream as a reminder to who I am and what I am supposed to be. Such a dream can be disturbing because it’s in stark contrast to reality. I’m not what I am and I can’t be what I am supposed to be.
This new world has bred a new 'ME',one whose hopes, dreams and aspirations match the present.Under the compulsion of the fast paced materialistic world , spiritualism has taken a back seat and the current hour leaves little room for choice. As a result ,Iam all 'plastic’ with truth far gone and innocence long lost. The hollowed superficial 'ME' reigns supreme but I'm looked up with awe and admiration! Therefore I proudly speak in‘transitions’,the language of the hour and keep pace with the changing face of time.And, am I happy? Well, according to the norms of my new found world, I think I am.

FUNKY DICTIONARY

-CANNIBAL: Someone who is fed up with people.

-COMMITTEE: A body that keeps minutes and wastes hours.

-DUST: Mud with the juice squeezed out.

-EGOTIST: Someone who is usually me-deep in conversation.

-HANDKERCHIEF: Cold Storage.

-MOSQUITO: An insect that makes you like flies better.

-RAISIN: Grape with a sunburn.

-SECRET: Something you tell to one person at a time.

-SKELETON: A bunch of bones with the person scraped off.

-TOOTHACHE: The pain that drives you to extraction.

-TOMORROW: One of the greatest labor-saving devices of today.

-YAWN: An honest opinion openly expressed.

-WRINKLES: Something other people have, similar to my character lines.

FIELDS OF GOLD: EVA CASSIDY.(1990)

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in the fields of gold

So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in the fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in the fields of gold
We'll walk in the fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold

The 'GOOD' of it all...

With sacrifice comes a prize and that’s the reason why I don’t mind sacrificing my Saturday afternoons when I get to hear peoples’ VOICES both loud and soft, bold and meek, strange and familiar, mundane, shocking and calming, friendly and cold. With these voices heard, I wouldn’t disagree with the saying that human beings are no carbon copies. We are of the same species yet our thought process can be so different, so individualistic. That’s the wonder of creation! Life’s worth exploring because of this variety and mystery. The workings of the human mind is both intriguing and inviting.

It’s surprising that the same set of questions can generate a million responses that are so well proven, substantiated and convincing. In many ways it’s a revelation and an immense learning experience because these questions are not stereo types that can generate rote answers but rather requires analysis and critical thin king on the part of the speaker.
These speaking sessions are also a window to ‘personalities’. The unique nature of each candidate that enters that room actually kills boredom and monotony. They are a ‘talking inspiration’; charming, assertive, smart, unassuming, meek, proud, intelligent and inspiring. Hours are but seconds and hunger and thirst are forgotten, that’s how involving it is!
A work or art, I’ve come to understand that one cannot fully fathom human nature.

Poem from the Underground: D. J. Enright (1920-2002)

Proud readers,
hide behind tall newspapers.

The young are all arms and legs,
knackered by youth.

Tourists sit bold upright,
trusting in nothing.

Only the drunk and the crazy,
aspire to converse.

Only the poet,
peruses his poem among the adverts.

Only the elderly person,
observes the request

that the seat be offered to the elderly person.

Dunkin Doughnut and Arranged Marriage!

Life’s sweet memories are made of these; friends, food and the conversations. It’s best when the three are assorted, for a broader perspective, colour and vibrancy. Yes, exactly like a box of doughnuts that comes in tongue tingling flavours and eye catching colours; tempting?
No doubt about that for aren't we desperate to add colour to life?
The hectic day starts with a glazed Dunkin donut, courtesy, Mr. Crosbie. He does that often, the morning round of Dunkin Doughnuts and Costa Coffee. That’s his way of caring and sharing! It sure transports us to America for that wee second when we merrily munch that glazed donut. However, the topic of our conversation is ‘Arranged Marriage’! Some things are about acceptance like an arranged marriage which is so natural to us Indians but the same idea brings a wave of shock on other folks like our own Mr. C. He struggles with accepting the very concept while we Indian ladies are all in praise for the age old custom. He wonders how marriage can happen before love and we express our joy in that very suspense. We convince him into believing that marriages are made in Heaven and he wonders how even educated ladies can be so rooted in old beliefs. We don’t change our views and never will, education or no education. Customs are customs even if you start the day with Dunkin doughnut and Costa Coffee!
Variety is the spice of life, therefore it’s important to taste that variety, learn tolerance and acceptance but one also needs to have a firm footing on one’s own set of principles.

STRINGS...

‘STRING’, YES, STRING IS THE THING, the maker or the breaker; maker if you are clever enough to manipulate and breaker if negligent, rash and over bearing!
Super thin, fragile, often unnoticeable but no doubt invincible and powerful. Therefore, don’t let go of the string!
Like in the famous utterance, 'pull your string’and let it pave the way, be tactful, manoeuvre and let it take control of your life. Then, see how like the kite, you soar the highest mountain of your dream, to a realm forever cherished, forever longed!

Artistic, strategic and intelligent should be your ‘moves’ in handling this overtly fragile 'string of life'. Remember, pull the string to serve your purpose; make it the master of your destiny, let it be the sticky cobweb that traps every opportunity so nothing is lost.

Like the stringed instruments that produce music when the chords are in rhythm, the strategic manoeuvering of the 'strings' can help produce an ever lasting music of life’s eternal song. In its tiniest form of near invisibility it can leave a mark,honey like in its sweetness.
Its flexibility if exemplified can be a source of happiness but, if ignored , an abyss, dismal and dark. Petite it is, therefore play it right; let the string of your life not be a mesh of entanglement but rather a kite ,colourful,free, rich and soaring!

WE ARE ONE!

Nature has a strange way of venting out its dislike for men’s so called advanced technology. It lashes out unannounced and all too suddenly, crippling all types of protection devices invented. What’s heartbreaking is that invariably it’s the ‘downtrodden’ that’s victim of nature’s wrath. They are the pawns and subject of everyone’s ridicule, actually. Nature’s fury or man’s anger, the bearers are the innocent, at times it appears that they are like Hercules carrying the weight of the entire universe on their shoulder and paying the price.

Darjeeling, the ‘queen of hills’, was witness to this a fortnight ago. On 21st May 2009, the tropical cyclone AILA said to have originated from the Bay of Bengal brought normal life to a stand still. It lashed the otherwise serene town with incessant storm that brought with it chaos and wreckage. Today, there are uncountable homeless, displaced, missing or dead. Houses have been transformed to debris turning that which was a place of shelter into a grave overnight.
That's the result of nature's fury,wonder what its reaction was with the aftermath. Did it swell in glory or shed tears of regret?
A question such as this is not to be asked yet I’m inquisitive.

However, there’s hope for man stands for man and that’s what one can see in my hometown at present. Darjeeling's well wishers is united in solidarity all for a noble cause. Meetings are held, strategies planned, and funds raised with the intention of providing a safe haven to those in need. Everyone is wholly involved giving the best of their service to fight the odds. What else do we need to prove that we are one?

In the beginning is the end...

Any new beginning starts with hope that promises to see us through like the ‘Green Light’ in ‘Great Gatsby’ which was Jay Gatsby’s ray of hope and a symbol of the American Dream.
There’s enormous excitement, positivity, zeal and enthusiasm in this spirit of newness. It’s like a child’s new found toy that keeps him engaged for a period of time wherein he experiments, discovers, appreciates and glows in self pride. The twinkle in the eyes and the glow in his face lead him on to further analysis and experimentation till a time when the toy transforms into a precious possession. It has a special significance and you’ll see him clinging onto to it ever so dearly. The disappointment that he experiences if the toy malfunctions is immense and deep.
However, this attitude is only short lived; it changes, just like the weather in my hometown. That same time that brought about attachment brings detachment too and pretty too soon. Sooner or later the interest and the discovery factor dies. The toy now is a thow away object .That aura has vanished and the child now notices the otherwise invisible defects. It’s too plastic, too metallic, too noisy, too big or too tiny. What was once so priceless is now too cheap and deserves being discarded. The heart and the house are too small to hold objects of no significance.
Therefore what once was the beginning of hope is now ‘a valley of ashes’; just as death follows life ‘SURU’ or the beginning anticipates an end.

STOREHOUSE OF KNOWLEDGE..

‘Daane, daane pey likha hota hai, khaney waley ka naam’.

What a lovely quote to hear at a Book Fair! It felt like every book on the display shelves had my name engraved.
This is a comment a sales person made while handing two volumes of Webster’s Dictionary as a complimentary gift for the purchase I had made. Wasn’t I lucky?
Being at the exhibition hall of the Airport Expo took me back to the Book Fair at Pragati Maidan,Delhi,where I’d make purchases every winter. I can also clearly recall the Book Fairs at my own Siliguri town, at the stadium area with makeshift shacks laden with books and the blaring Bengali music. Mind you, they’d be devotional ones and those with patriotic fervor would tune in without any inhibition.The look of the shop may not have been attractive but the goods i.e. the books surely were priceless. At such a bargain and for such publications, you wouldn’t give a second thought!
There were books on all subjects, themes, texture and quality. You just had to surf and I mean physically to find your type. There was no thinking or compromising, you had to grab your pick and cling on to them for fear of being sold off. People overlooked the dirt and dust to search for their treasure. It didn’t matter at all to squat on dirty floors and sieve through the pages of the piles of books. It was a treasure house of knowledge and everyone was lost in finding their treasure.

Th scenario here at the Airport Expo was almost similar with heaps of books, swarm of people and trollies loaded to the brim. The eyes however still retained the ‘hungry look’.
Book lovers were comfortably seated on the tiled floors sifting through pages and making choices, children running up and down in excitement and the enormous display of books. You could touch them, smell them, feel them, hold them and/or buy them. One could be buried in books. With the kind of enthusiasm and excitement that I witnessed in the crowd it’s contradictory to make a statement that books are no longer desired or craved for. It may be the age of technology but books are books and are here to stay. As long as there are avid readers there’ll always be hardback or paperback books. I definitely love to hold, smell and feel the pages of the book I read.

For the love of love.

The driving force for all action is LOVE! It begins with the love for the Divine and then spreads along. It’s the purpose, zeal; enthusiasm and reason for a forward strive. One can do anything for love, from irrational activities like climbing the highest mountain, swimming the deepest ocean, or even ending lives, to being criminals. Nothing deters, nothing challenges! It’s the heart that rules and is all powerful; the head has no role here. It’s a power that can sustain and kill at the same time. It’s a force that leads men to battlefields and brings about reconciliation at the same time. Love is mysterious no doubt but essential.

It’s creation as well as destruction. One needs to believe in the power of love, the key element of which is ‘faith’ as in the saying, ‘faith can move mountains’. If you believe in the power of love, all hurdles are overcome, all problems resolved.

Love is ‘joy and energy’. They say love makes the world go round and it sure does. The world is a healthier, happier place when we share a bit of our love. The best of songs, stories and poems are love stories that deals with the trials, tribulations, victory or downfall of love.
Love is happiness that springs from within and pain and sorrow as well. We hurt the one we love the most because our love makes us too liberal and oblivious of the person’s feelings. We take the  person for granted and keep trying his/her patience. It’s also a test of one’s emotions and at times an expression of frustration.

Love doesn’t just change everything but it changes its own color too. It’s like the season, unpredictable and all pervading. It is in its nature to change. Therefore, we must accept it in all its hues and allow it to keep us alive.

?????

Eternity burnt in an Eternal Flame
and became an effervescence of confusion and illusion;
permeating the air with the pungency of ashes
that still retains a part of its 'strings'
to juxtapose the momentary with the everlasting.

Into the fine art of teaching!

‘No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of our knowledge.
The teacher who walks in the shadow of that temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness.
If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.’
KHALIL GIBRAN
With this quote the fineries of the art of teaching was brought to light by Dr. Bob Richards, the Senior Director of the Higher Colleges of Technology and the Director of Dubai Men’s College, Dubai, UAE.
He also focused on some of the key elements that we teachers need to know in order to mould a character, shape one’s future and transform learners to seekers.

Today’s world is one of incessant change where knowledge doubles and increases with every tick of the clock. It’s also a world where knowledge is easily available and accessible; there are innumerable ways of doing so. Therefore the old concept of knowledge being ‘finite’ and the teacher filling an empty vessel is obsolete. The real world needs synthesizers and evaluators who can use their knowledge to serve their purpose. Hence learning is not just about recalling but evaluating and applying. In other words it’s a process of self discovery. It’s a personal experience between the learner and the teacher. It’s the ‘him’(learner) and ‘I’(teacher).A teacher in other words leaves an imprint in the leaner’s life that he or she considers invaluable and treasures for life.

Motivation, another important element in the teaching and learning arena requires three conditions:
1. There has to be a ‘need’ that’s not satisfied and that need is the learner’s need.
2. The way to meet the need is in sight
3. Learners have a reasonable chance of success in meeting the need.
'Rising tide lifts all boats’ implies that teachers must help raise the ‘tide’ that benefits all. We ought to also change our notion of success because no two people see the same thing. What is success to you isn’t success to me! Therefore our assumption that every learner in a classroom goes through the same experience is totally wrong. Learners are individuals with different and distinct ‘perception screens ’, unique learning styles and retention power.
We must be aware of this difference, accept our students as individuals and cater to their personal needs. The language of “love’ is the key tool to real learning!
‘Reprove sometimes with sharpness but then show an increase of love lest he thinks you an enemy.’----Food for thought for us teachers.

We need to understand that ours is a ‘relationship of account’ where every reaction or response is either a deposit or a withdrawal. And to make it either of the two is in our hands, words, gestures and emotions.

According to Kim Peak, “Teaching is leading when we focus on people and treat them with expectation, confidence and respect when they don’t deserve it.
We must treat people as if they already are what we want them to be.’

Dr.Bob Richard’s aptly concluded the session with the Lennon and McCarthy’s theory of teaching, where we take a ‘sad song, and make it better,where we remember to take them into our hearts and then make it better.'
.

BRAIN STUFF

Brain Stuff . . From Cambridge University .

Olny srmat poelpe can raed this.
I cdnuolt blveiee that I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd what I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in what oredr the ltteers in a word are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is that the first and last ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can still raed it wouthit a porbelm. This is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the word as a wlohe. Amzanig huh? Yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!

The picture speaks in a language of its own!

BREWED!
DESERT SPECIAL!



THE SOUND OF THE SEA...

FLAME OF THE FOREST...





AS YOU UNDERSTAND....

Forever and Ever,Amen!

“As long as old men sit & talk about the weather
As long as old women sit & talk about old men
if you wonder how long I’ll be faithful
I’ll be happy to tell you again
I’m gonna love you forever & ever, forever & ever.”
Amen.

This is the chorus of Randy Travis’s song ‘Forever’, a song of devotion and faith that promises eternal love. I don’t exactly know the time of its composition but surely it is not a present day song, it cannot be, definitely not.
These are times of disillusionment, where hearts are forever in doubt and ready to accuse. It’s a time of ‘me’ and ‘I’. Nothing good comes of the goodness in your thoughts, action and desires. Instead, you are accused of making a mockery, a pomp and show. It’s a common day affair to be punished by your own kith and kin. You don’t need enemies from outside, they are within, at very close quarters and that’s the reason why you are forever entrapped.
So in a time like ours, togetherness is not forever. It’s the ‘goodbye’ that we welcome and cling on to with so much desperation. We build our own little islands, secluded and distanced from the rest and in our fear of being snubbed or ridiculed , we ‘blame’,‘blame’and‘blame’as Paul Simon aptly says in his song, ‘You’re the one.’ It has to be ‘you’ because 'I’ can never go wrong. Our ego and sense of pride is above all so that should not be affected in any way. The minute it is, we hit back with razor sharp utterances and do we care what impact those drastic words makes on the listener? Well, there’s no time for such considerations. As long as I can walk with my head held high in pride the rest of the world can come to a halt, nothing, nothing matters. I'm an island, remember!
We disregard the ‘us’ to assure a ‘forever goodbye'. There’s no wishing for future meeting because a farewell is a relief! It's like saying, 'Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.' (The Waste Land : T. S. Eliot)
We’ve got to be on the move, there’s no time to ponder or wonder. One has to just accept and carry on, that’s the way of the present world!

COLD BLOOD AND EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE!

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, yes I need to heave a deep sigh!
I don’t really know if I’m in a position to do justice to the topic I’ve chosen to write on. Nonetheless I’ll give it a try. To start with I see no connection between ‘cold blood’/‘cold blooded’ and ‘emotional intelligence’. Emotional intelligence or EI according to Wikipedia is the ability to identify, assess and manage the emotions of one and others. An emotionally intelligent person can detect emotions in faces and harness them, even negative ones to achieve intended goals. In other words EI is all about kindness, generosity and support. These days it’s a therapy that provides disempowered people with compassion and empathy to accept and combat harsh reality.

‘Cold blood’/ ‘cold blooded’ on the other hand is all about negativity. It means lacking feeling or emotion. The suitable adjectives for ‘cold blooded’ are inhuman, insensate, callous, cold, brutal, ruthless, heartless, merciless, dispassionate, pitiless, unfeeling and cruel. It also means having a body temperature that can change according to the temperature of the surrounding, just like fish and amphibians. That would be a metamorphosis to remember but I’m glad not to have such a cold, cold heart or is it blood?

The topic under scrutiny is about experimenting with Emotional Intelligence in ‘cold blood’ and that’s what I fail to understand because going by the definition the two are ‘stark opposites’. To be ‘cold blooded’ one needs no emotion and no intelligence, it’s all about insensitivity, brutality and callousness. Since there’s no feeling or consideration, no precision of time or place or occasion is needed. There’s no reflection either.

Well, to be able to find any link between the two is like searching for a needle in a haystack, therefore I give up. Further reasoning will lead to insanity and that's a heavy price to pay.

PERPLEXED

These days I’m into analyzing and understanding the ‘Cornerstones of Language Testing’ and that’s brought a very interesting fact to mind;that there is a very close connection between tests in the real world and in the world of classrooms. I’ve also begun to understand the necessity for human beings to be exposed to the traumatizing effects of test taking at a very tender stage. What I mean is that they have to learn to face, accept and deal with success and failure at the very start, that’s the most essential tool for survival!It’s also essential to understand why the word ‘test’ is a terror word. The emotions that any test arouses are one of fear, sleepless nights and worry. It constantly plays at the back of the mind and whether you make an effort or not to prepare, it’ll continue to gnaw you with some degree of intensity.That depends on one's level of sensitivity. The aftermath may be positive but the initial stage is without doubt stressful. This is with regard to the effects of ‘tests’ prepared by an expert to ‘test’ your proficiency, efficiency, suitability and so on in a specific field or area. But, how about the real tests of life? Do we have such an opportunity? Can we prove our worth or suitability? Why is such a thing as ‘mental prep” denied? Why are those difficult situations just thrown at us at random when superficial tests are so pain staking prepared and every element in it questioned? Those subject specific tests once prepared goes through stages and levels of scrutiny to prove its appropriacy, validity, reliability, accuracy and authenticity. There are many more terms to it , they can fill all the pages of a book and yet require more space. Therefore, the least mentioned is better.
How about the validity of real life tests? Why does it catch us unaware? Why are we impelled to accept it without any questions asked? Why is there is no question for its unpredictability? And, why do we always need a test to prove our credibility? Don't we already know that life will go on, tests or no tests? In what way do these nerve wrecking tests add to our experience?

They say truth is far from reality but why does it have to so?
Man has been ever so willing to decipher and answer every query, conquer every land be it above or under sea level, high up in the sky or out of it but why are some areas still mysterious? Why are there questions with no satisfying answers?
Why does the word ‘why’ play such an important role in our lives and for how long do we endure with the semi satisfying answer? Many and most of the time we succumb to these tests, how valid is that reaction? Is life really precious then?Or is living worth all the tests?
A friend of mine is willing to share her knowledge of 'Emotional Intelligence' and hopefully that might provide a few acceptable answers if not all. Well, 'Artificial Intelligence' failed so one should not have too much hope.
“Is it ‘hope’ or ‘dope’ or ‘rope’?”
The above quoted line is from A. K Ramanujan’s short story, “Out of Business” I read at school in the days of yore.
At least my memory hasn’t failed me, I should be grateful for that.

Nirlok's story....' My Talent'

My best talent is in singing because everyone says I sing the best! I learn singing at school, my teacher teaches me how to sing. I sing in my best voice. I can sing many songs. My favourite song is , 'Mama Mia'. I sing it everytime. I watch the movie so I don't forget the song. I sing on stage very proudly.
Everybody likes me when I sing.

In a distant Land.

Destiny and fate are all about acceptance.
I was born in a ‘hilltop’ house (as my son calls it), wrapped in nature, snuggled between mountains and pines. My childhood memories are of tea bushes, the immaculate stone bungalow, rugged stone paths, the brooks and springs, wild berries, aromatic neighbourhood kitchens that was open to all, flickering lights of distant houses , the Tibetan incense and my grandmother’s incessant, ‘Om Mani Padme Hung’. Three things that are distinct in my mind’s eye are my grandmother’s large hands, her prayer beads (thenga) and the prayer wheel or the ‘Mani Khorlo’. The prayer beads and prayer wheel have stood the test of time but not my grandmother. All that remains are memories, just plain memories.

Today, that house stands renovated and strong to beat all odds but my relationship with my homeland has changed. I’m a stranger, more of a guest in my own land that needs formal invitation even to spend few hours. The hills and the brooks beckon no doubt but I have obligations far more serious. As Robert Frost said, ‘The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep’, it’s a similar situation for me. How I wish I could go back to my ‘hill top' house and live life in ruggedness being one with nature but that is far from reality. That which was once familiar and so much a part of me breeds distance. That house in his warm room I was born is more of a tourist lodge where I go once a year to rejuvenate my tired senses. However in that brevity of time, I make every effort to relive my past and once more become 'innocent' and 'pure'. It’s momentary I know yet do do it for personal satisfaction and solace. It’s my desperate effort to take in as much as I can of my root.
People of my homeland consider me one among the fortunate to be venturing in a distant land, achieving success and fame but that’s their innocence speaking. Little do they the turmoil of my heart and the longing of my soul for the pines, the gentle morning breeze, the milkmaid at the doorstep at the break of dawn, friendly neighbors ever willing to offer freshly brewed tea , the buzz and giggle of neighbourhood children walking to school,rain or sun and my grandmother’s ever soothing ‘OM MANI PADME HUNG’.

A Song...

The voice is a melody of a song composed in the serene silence of a hazy morn enveloped in grey mist.

The crimson rhododendron carpets the Earth with purple-red petals
that nauseates the senses with its tanginess.

The long slender bamboo rustles and sways in absolute harmony like in a dance.

The ever flowing water of the gurling brook knows no beginning and no end.

These and only these can bring forth such a song.

FALSITY

The name is a chant
The face a solace
The smile a sustenance
and the memory, a resolve
For a forward strife; thorny and barbed.
Yet, there’s hope and light.
For a promise is a promise.
It’s a word of a man and a man doesn’t fall by his word

'HIDE AND SEEK'

In the distant hill which is my haven, the Sun perennially plays, ‘hide and seek’ and fools people who are at Nature’s mercy. And, it seems to enjoy every bit of its prank! In the wee hours of morn the Sun’s rays forcefully makes way through little spaces between wooden beams and glass panes to the cozy dim lit rooms to proclaim its arrival and disturb their slumber.
Since bright sunny days are rare sight, people grab every moment of it. Every house is a buzz with activities that can only be done on such a day. Cloth lines are overflowing with mildewed , damp and washed clothes put out to dry and crisp in the natural heat .The close knit neighborhood is more like a ‘dhobi’s yard with clothes, clothes and more clothes. Everyday wear and fineries are ‘aired’ for the dampness to vanish. Everything possible is ‘sunned’, from suitcases to books to furniture to crockery to shoes to food items. Every door and window is open for the ‘warm blessed rays ‘to penetrate and take away the winter cold. Every face is a smile of accomplishment!
Sadly the accomplishment is short lived. The Sun is enveloped by thick black clouds making a sudden but bold appearance. It’s like the two are battling. Soon the faces vanish and everything is brought in lest the big natural water droplets wet them. The jovial mood is no longer jovial; it’s irritable and unpredictable, just like the weather,
Looks like the people of my home town are conditioned by the weather that blesses them with all four seasons in a day.

In the true spirit of 'Indianness"

What more could one wish for than an opportunity to watch IPL live in a typical Indian ambience!
We three folks went truly 'desi' yesterday with 'garama, garam chai', 'immense chaos' and 'a thrilling game of cricket'- the three C's that epitomizes India.
Actually, it was a matter of sheer luck and co incidence. Being Thursday we set out on a 'No-destination' drive in the full hope of getting 'somewhere' and doing 'something' that would spice up the weekend. And there it was, the neon light of 'Lamcy Plaza', beckoning us to head towards its direction and look no further! Without a second thought, my husband had the lane changed tothe leading to the 'hub' that would have us transported in spirit,to our 'desh'(country)for those three hours.
No, it wasn't a bad idea at all to be there with the luring 'sales upon sales'in all brands and the ever vibrant feel of the place. And, did I shop? Oh, yes! why not? We woman have a trade mark in that, don't we?
After all the trudging, the 'picking and leaving’, the confusion and the decision', the 'disheartening and the elation’, it was time for a 'Matka walla chai' at the one and only 'Bombay Chowpatti' in the well spaced out food court.
Yes, it was 9:30 p m but then who goes by routine on a weekend? That's the time to let go and 'jiyo bindaas'!
Had it been in India the 'chai' (tea) would be 'Malai(rich and creamy) walli' but one must speak the language of compromise in a distant land.
To our dismay, the 'matka' was replaced by the common, plain, white plastic cup but that didn't deter us from getting our 'cuppa'and grabbing the best table facing the nearest plasma suspended in the air. It was a bit of a streneous exercise for the neck but isn't that needed too ? It does more good than harm , does it not?
Soon we were in the spirit of the game and familiar with the team names. They were the Rajasthan Royals and the Knight Riders from Rajasthan and Kolkata respectively and their sponsors were no other than Bollywood 'badshah' (king) Sharukh Khan and the most talked about Shilpa Shetty's fiance.
And, the venue was Sahara Park, Newlands,South Africa.
The T 20 game could get no better with the match having a turn over with the appearance of Saurabh Ganguly ,( lovingly nicknamed, 'dada') who made a gallant 46.The team had a tied score at 150 in 20 overs each and a Super over was needed to decide its fate. Chris Gayle of Knight Riders took a single to kick off the FIRST Super Over in IPL history.Lady luck however, was all in favor of the Rajasthan Royals whose star player Yousef Pathan hit two 'sixes' and a 'four' to bring the score to 18 in an over in contrast to KR's 15.

I have to confess that my weekend had a 'kick start' with that nail biting match and the following one will be at Dubai's very own, 'state of the art' Sport's City Stadium for a first hand experience of the gentlemen's game as it was termed in the good old past.

The Magic Pebble by Nirlok Tamang.

One fine day, a boy named Nirlok was walking in the garden when suddenly a pebble hit him on the head. He took the pebble back to his room and when he closed the door, the pebble started to glow. It took him to a jungle.He kept the pebble in his pocket and went for a walk when all of a sudden a tiger appeared. The tiger went to get her cub. Nirlok growled at her and she went away. And then the pebble took him back home. He kept the magic pebble in a secret box.

Silence!

The key word to all the stress and the strain is 'silence'. However, the irony is that not all silence is welcome. The worst is the silence that death brings, it's unnerving and irreparable.
On the other hand, the silence of a serene place after the maddening traffic is heavenly! Nothing to beat the soothing effect that serenity can leave on our brains. The tranquility of the beach in the early hours of the morn or late evening can have similar impact. These places do wonders and are even considered 'therapies' for the 'stressed' and 'troubled’. One also needs time for one self, to be oneself and let lose.
The kind of silence that I personally abhor is the one that comes unexplained and all too suddenly. It wrecks your reasoning especially if you are the inquisitive type because you'd want an answer and there'd be none. It keeps playing at the back of your mind and destroys the normal tempo and yet all you can do is wonder. It's just too torturous! Nonetheless one has to learn to cope with it and find a solution.
Living is learning and you live life one day at a time. It's the mixture, the palette of experiences that makes you a complete person.

Owed to the Spell Checker : Author Unknown.

Eye halve a spelling checker
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marcs four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
It's rare lea ever wrong.
Eye have run this poem threw it
Eye amshore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My checker tolled me sew.

NEED'S ANALYSIS

There's comes a time, a testing time , a struggling time a time when everything goes against your will with no fault of yours. Your good intentions are interpreted as bad and you are left wondering. Sometimes we become so helpless!!!
Well, that's what my present situation is like in the famous 'M' block. Every minute is a struggle for both of us;my student’s sole aim is to disrupt and not have any learning take place and mine to keep them 'on task' under every struggle. At the beginning it was fun to see how you could beat all their tricks but then it's become a tedious, unwelcome job because I'm a teacher by profession, not a police woman!
Actually, I think I'm considered worse ...which is terrible.
I wonder why these young lads are so demotivated when there's just a month for the academic year to wind up.
Is it because things are getting too monotonous?
Or is it because this whole cycle has been one long stretch with no break of any sort?
Or is it because we've had no activities, no funand learning ?
I wish I had an answer but to be honest my situation has been worse. I've been like leaf blown by a strong wind with destination unknown. I've been on the move, here, there and every where, discovering every nook and corner of my workplace. It's good in a way, in future or in case of emergency I won't get lost. While cycle 2 was a ‘breeze’, cycle 3 is no doubt a 'tornado' of the worst kind ever.
At times I wonder if I'm in the right place, there's total distortion and my attempt at bringing about any kind of order is a vain attempt simply because it’s too late.
So at this critical moment I'm doing a serios' NEED'S ANALYSIS' and it's difficult. A successful teacher is one who moulds a character it is said and my attempt is just that. Knowledge from books can be passed on, that's not a challenge but how do I teach these lads to be gentlemen? How do I mould them? How do I win their favor? How do I change their perspective of things? How do I make them love school and school work? How do I teach them to walk and talk, sit and stand?
Well, I'm still analyzing and hoping that soon, very soon I'll find the answers to my questions.
Till then the analysis is onnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

DREAM

We live in dreams and in our dreams capture illusory moments
that sets us afloat to a height unknown and unfathomable to the Real World.
In the lightness of an inflated balloon and down feathers
we conquer the 'Higher Realm' and for that fraction of a moment live our ‘Utopia’,
Then like Icarus,swollen in pride, we fail to heed, we become prey to our desire
and fall the lowest fall that knows no redemption, no forgiveness.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!

Colours of spring!

Spring is in the air and one can feel its warmth everywhere. Its vibrant hue can uplift any spirit! Ushering in spring is nature way of adding that healing touch, of rejuvenating dying hearts and getting rid of the dead of winter. With spring comes LIFE and HOPE! Nature is at its best; flowers blossom, butterflies flutter, the Sun is mellow and the wind gentle.
I still remember the April flowers all in bloom in my school garden and the celebration of HOLI, with all of us smeared in colored powder, literally living the colors of nature. To be honest I have no idea what significance this festival has. It's rather risky since people take full liberty at flinging colors at anyone, pouring water which can be a concoction of anything and offering a greenish gooey substance of a drink called 'bhang' that can null all the senses in a way none of the known drinks can. And yes, the fervor with which the festival is observed can deafen one's sense of hearing. These days, it's difficult to find melody in a song .
This is one festival I would never wish to be a part of. Such a beautiful season should have an environment and sense-friendly ways of ushering, that’s solely my opinion.
I for one am glad the season of spring has renewed old ties. Now my life is a garden with flowers of friendship blooming in all vibrancy and hue. Life is worth living once again!

THE CROWN PRINCE AT HIS BEST

Poetry

~~ Beauty of a Woman ~~

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears,
The figure she carries, or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen from her eyes,
Because that is the doorway to her heart,
The place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole,
but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives,
The passion that she shows.
The beauty of a woman
With time, only grows..

'I went to Heaven's supermarket and picked up flowers of faith,cards of salvation and perfume of joy but I didn't pay because JESUS had already paid for you and me on the CROSS.'

Received this message from Shashank, my student from SAS, KPG, this morning and I wept 'tears of joy'.

A Handful of Earth...

HOLD ON TO WHAT IS GOOD EVEN IF IT IS A HANDFUL OF EARTH,
HOLD ON TO WHAT YOU BELIEVE EVEN IF IT IS A TREE THAT STANDS BY ITSELF.

I'll hold on to the belief that someday all will be well and this Earth will be a garden of Eden. Nothing will be wiped off , they'll be captured and frozen to preserve their precious nature.They'll crystalize and shine ever so bright and with their radiance dim and destroy all obstacles. There'll be bridges to replace walls, love in place of hatred, giving more than receiving and happiness in its true essence. Such a moment is not far....

A GOOD FAREWELL!

In my younger days, I didn’t quite understand the necessity of a farewell. Infact it would make me wonder why there had to be so much formality in saying the two simplest words. I’d wonder why people would have to gather and go through the process of expressing one’s feeling and shed tears. I didn’t like it one bit because it was a moment when my weakness would be revealed .
There was excitement too, especially in my teenage days, when for the first time I along with a few others got the opportunity to plan the much awaited farewell party for the out going seniors. I still remember trotting authoritatively to every class making collections, chalking a budget, selecting gift items, planning every detail of the event. Best of all was going shopping; I’d get that much awaited opportunity of visiting my favorite ‘nook’. Being in a residential school, the only places of interest then were ‘food joints’. To be honest we’d return with more food for our ever hungry bellies. I must have had a barrel for a stomach those days,I was always so hungry.
Food then was surely ‘glorious’ and those midnight feasts a sheer thrill. It’s fun to break rules at times!
Now with age I’ve mellowed a great deal and begun to see sense. Yes, now I have a different opinion, farewell or in other words, a proper goodbye is necessary. It is one way of bringing home the message that we have moved one step ahead. The journey of life is a forward trail and that we need to march on. A proper goodbye helps one compromise with and accept reality. It stops one from building ‘false hope’ and wasting time and it also helps the past be a treasure trove where one can seek to find the jewel that’ll be a ‘shining star’ , a guiding light when everything fades into oblivion.

Nights of bliss and sheer poetry!

Moonlit sky, open air theatre, poetry recitation, traditional music, folklore and dance! What else does one need?
The last two evenings have been the best ever where I talked poetry, walked poetry and felt poetry in the very pulse. It was transcendence to a world of my dreams, where there’s pure bliss, eternal and everlasting. It’s a world of words, therefore there’s no betrayal. I’ve found my new haunts; yes, it’s the Dubai House of Poetry, The Madinet Theatre and I’m hoping my better half will to drive me to The World Trade Center this evening for Wole Soyinka’s poetry recitation. Grant me my wish, pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee