What did you sow?

I was wondering how to console myself for not being able to post everyday in the past two months. And was feeling not so high and a memory of a past post flashed inspiring me with this idea.

When the hope is in the verge of demise, my posts come to my aid to cheer me up and help me cheer up and move ahead with a renewed vigour. So I do reap the benefits of some scattered seeds of the past. It feels good to know that what I sow was a good seed and the benefits are indeed heartening..

So what are you sowing today?
A happy thought?
A piece of your mind?
Or are you dumping the waste into every corner of life and letting the look back become a peep into litter box?

Beware of what you sow, for that’s what you’re going to reap!

P.S. This is the post I was looking at and feeling better. Feel free to dish out your ideas on both posts.

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What lies ahead? 

Is it the end,
Where the path of the past
Bids adieu
As it ceased to exist?

Is it the bend,
Where the path takes
A new turn
As it enters new horizons?

Is this the beginning of
Another new month?
Is this the end as
The year comes to a close?

What was in the past?
Few promises were broken!
Few new promises were made!
And in between life did happen!

What lies ahead?
Isn’t that the billion dollar question?
Blushing blooming buds?
Fragrant fluffy flowers?

What’s out there could be
Seen, heard and felt from there…
But not from here, for
Appearances are deceptive!

So step ahead..
Even if it’s towards an end..
For the road bends and there lies
Another new beginning!

The torch! 

Small Stones (4)-Rain

Would you too like to try this style?

Read Write Live

The rain beat a tattoo on the roof of the car… Misty windows… Damp smells… The cry of a baby in sleep… Chubby red hands wiping away the droplets that come stealing in

What are small stones?

A small stone is a short piece of writing (any style) that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment for you. The process of discovering small stones is as significant as the finished creation. Searching for small stones encourages you to keep your senses on the “alive and alert” status. Involve yourself with a new set of eyes, ears, nose, mouth, fingers, feelings and mind. This is Mindful Writing at its best.

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Emote

The verdict is out loud and clear! 🙂

Ripples

When the emotion is too full,
They elude the chains of words,
To be confined into absolute terms..

They become color to the blind,
Music to the deaf,
Scream to the mute..

They are felt in the senses,
Takes shape and taste
Depending on the receiver..

The brilliance of emotions
Are only as brilliant as it is
Allowed to be felt..

But when both the hearts
Speak the same language
of emotion beyond words,

They become the touch to blind,
Signs to the deaf,
Punch to the mute..

Now, did you hear,
What I wrote or
What I meant?

Not awaiting the answer,
For I would hear it
When you speak out, at last..

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All the world’s a stage

When the world’s a stage and people are actors, aren’t there masks all around?

A mask is generally considered as something which conceals the original form and gives a new identity to the one who wears it..

I don’t agree with the general definition..

Fine, here’s my view on it..

A basic feature of a human being is that he is capable of multiple personalities at any given point in time..

I consider that every personality is a different face and is capable of different abilities in different forms.. Continue reading “All the world’s a stage”

An educative encounter

“What games did you play at school today?” I asked (in Tamil) the sixth standard boy from our neighbouring farm, situated across the river. He goes to a government high school in the next village. He comes over to our place, often, with his younger sister, who is in fourth standard. They are vibrant children, bustling with activity, helping us with planting saplings and watering them, even on days when we couldn’t visit the farm. Our daughter’s first friends at the village.“We didn’t have any PT period today,” he replied glumly.

“Oh, tell me what games did you play during the class hours?”
“I don’t play any games inside the class…I listen to the teachers”

That made my next question, which was the original intention anyway, easier to shoot.
“So, what did you study at school today?”
“An English poem,” he answered.
“I love poetry. Whose poem was it?”
“…”
“Do you remember any line from the poem?”
“No, I have to see the text book,” the boy was getting jittery.
“Ok , tell me any one word from the poem,” I persisted for a bit more.
“…”
“Do you know what the poem was about?”
“…,” the whiteness of his two large front upper teeth flashed through the uncomfortable smile.
“Does your teacher explain the poem in English or Tamil?”
“English”
I was surprised.
“Do you understand English?”
“No,” the answer came promptly.
“Get me your book tomorrow. I will teach the poem in Tamil.”
He seemed happy.
“Did you read the book that I gave you? Did you understand the stories?” We had presented him with a Tamil story book for his ear-piercing ceremony, held last week.
“Yes,” he cheered up.

Now, his sister chipped in, with some strange actions with her hands:”We didn’t have our regular classes today. They taught us words s*ell.”

I heard it as smell. It didn’t make sense, obviously.
“ka-a-tch. Catch,” she droned with the typical phonics sounds. Oh, she meant ‘spell’.
“Did they teach you spelling? How do you spell catch?”
“C-A-T”
I spent sometime guiding her through “t’, ‘tch’ and ‘catch’.
“Anna, what is the meaning of ‘little’?” she spurted out suddenly.
“Little means ‘kutty’.”
“Kutty?”
“Yes. Can you now tell me what is the meaning of little girl?”
“Girl.”
“No, little girl.”
“….”
“Little means kutty. Girl means ponnu. What does a ‘little girl’ mean? You just have to join the two words,” I repeated in a variety of ways to no avail. Her brother also didn’t have an answer.

“Don’t be shy. Tell the answer boldly,” their father said. He is unlettered but has an extensive knowledge about farming. He is the village priest at a local temple and tills the temple lands. When I had asked him, a couple of hours earlier, if he intended to continue with the education of his children, he had replied in a firm affirmative. I looked at him hopefully.

“Payyannu sollumaa (Say, it is a boy),” he said, feigning confidence.

“No, no. Little girl means kutti ponnu. Now tell me, what does a ‘little boy’ mean?”

After a few more errors, they arrived at kutti paiyan. Then we moved on to little dog, little cat. Finally, they seemed to have got a hang of little-something and rushed happily across the river – dry but for a small stream, overflowing from the check dam.

Thankfully, both these kids are still studying in Tamil medium. I shudder to think of the day when their schools will also be converted to English medium. English is certainly compounding the problems but the problem is not merely with English. We are faced with an entire educational system that alienates the rural children from their surroundings and knowledge systems. More needs to be written on this (and done about this).

But, for now, we, the English speaking elite, can go on belaboring about how we want our kids to compete with these children on a so-called ‘equal footing’ in a ‘meritocratic system’.

 Shared from https://tkan.wordpress.com/2016/05/31/the-road-to-hell-is-paved-with-felled-trees/