Another bloody mayhem.
Mumbai attacked by terrorists. 136 died as of today. Hundreds more injured. Cold-blooded attackers shoot people on sight. Men, women, children. There are pools of blood where the bodies lie. No mercy shown. Motive of attack? Only God knows.
Feels like my inside is hollow thinking about it.
Getting ready to do some social work for the department.
Silly T-shirt captions :)
Clearing leaves at the no-longer-in-use chicken coop.
Ching, a mother of two and a student in the department.
Time to be vain :)
Lama tidak nampak orang panjat kelapa oh!
Sheila, my niece, who came for a visit with her singing group for the weekend. She’s all grown up now. Doing her medical studies in Bangalore.
Mistakes happen every now and then. Even among those with rhino-hide-like self-control, or so we thought, fall into some sort of trouble at least once in their lifetime. Always the case, a word of sorry or an act of forgiveness is due. Saying sorry or forgiving others isn’t the hardest thing to say in the world. Perhaps the only reason why it seems difficult is that we aren’t willing to let go of our pride or the pain. We fear by lowering our pride or ignoring the pain, we allow people to trample on our dignity and make fun of our vulnerability.
Forgiving others is a tad easier, I think, compared to forgiving self. It sounds strange but true that we do get disappointed by something that we did or did not do. In retribution, we subject ourselves to some mental kick-boxing sessions until our innocent confidence and self-esteem get beaten to a pulp. Leaving the pulp aside, we then assume daily life and expect it to be normal. Except that it’s not exactly normal anymore. Our inside has been mashed up and it’s affecting our perspective – in a negative way – of people, relationships, the world, God, the government, the forgetful gatemen, the irritating ants that are exploring the cookie jar, the soap that keeps falling off its dish, etc. Everything seems to go against our way and we think we have become public victim No. 1!
But, it doesn’t have to be that way. The only road to healing from a painful mistake is to admit that there was a mistake, accept the pain as you would receive a stormy night and expect the sun to rise tomorrow morn. And the most important thing in rebuilding self-confidence is to embrace ourselves and say “I’m worthy not because what others think but because I think so.” Forgiving self is not an overnight process. We need to be crazy enough to confront the fears and sometimes to even pretend to be brave about it.
Quirky title – a book written by Dr. Spencer Johnson on how to deal with changes in life. It’s told in a form of a story so simple and yet thought-provoking, Sniff, Scurry, Hem and Haw are the four characters in the story which represent the simple and the complex parts of ourselves. All of them are on a hunt for cheese – which represents our wants in life. What happens when suddenly the cheese is gone? Each character reacts to change differently – in a broad term, either positively or negatively. Changes change us. For better or for worse. The choice is ours. Whether to to adapt or to stay the same old you.
So, who moved the cheese? Bah, go read.
Went out to Shisha Café, Koregaon Park to listen to a jazz band from Ireland. This time it’s the Honor Heffenan band which happens to be the name of the singer. Ms. Heffenan is one classy lady! Her voice is low, sultry and soothing. Their songs (many originals) were appropriate for a relaxing evening. Although not much wild rhythm which I needed :) but the evening was nevertheless interesting.
The band
Pianist, Phil Ware and bassist, Damian Evans (drummer, Kevin Brady)
Cool backdrop too
Candids
When God closes a door,
He opens a window, a window,
He opens a window so I could see,
He’s working it out the very best for me
He opens a window so I could see…
And so the lyrics of the song go…
When they open, is just a matter of time, I suppose…
That’s the title of an old book I found in the library today. It had an intriguing title. So where is the place of love in education when education is very much commercialized these days? Then again the book was written 48 years ago by an Indian writer, Shakti Datta. Maybe these days people know the place of love in education. Yes? No?
Anyway. I haven’t really started reading the book. The first few pages that I managed to read today were an essay on the abstract definition of love and its connection with spirituality. Listen to this:
To love is the nature of the ’self’. The self ever extends towards the other – the universe – to create relationship with it and to know it in love. In relationship the self realizes self.
Hmmm. Sounds like a mantra from some Eastern holy books.
Whomsoever we love, in him we find our soul in the highest sense. The final truth of our existence lies in this… because in them we have grown larger, in them we have touched that truth which comprehends the whole universe.
Now, those lines were written by Tagore, the great Indian poet. Hmmm. I should read more about this Tagore guy and his works.
Then the book slowly brings the mind from love, into the classroom and the students.
We have to recognize every child as a free creative being who ventures into the cosmos already related to it, with a potentiality to become aware of the truth of oneness-in-all by living his creativity to the full.
Wow. Velly new age. Will have to come back tomorrow and dive my mind into this pool of murky waters. Speaking of diving, it’s the second day of class of the new semester. A set of new courses with a set of new instructors. Luckily no Mr. XYZ this time. Man, he tires me a lot with his inconsistency and bull. Anyway, once again I find myself at the edge of the diving board, ready to plunge myself into another pool of knowledge hoping to find some kind of enlightenment. Yeah, destination Nirvana before Christmas. Chewaaa…
And so I attempted to beat the lingering blues by having a mental retreat that lasted almost a week. Basically I stayed home, watched movies, read a couple of books and wrote stuff as an outlet. I think the only time I went out was to play with the camera and to do the necessities (e.g. buy groceries, take garbage out, etc). I do feel sorry for all those people, SMSes and calls that I had to ignore but it just had to be done otherwise I’m ripe for an asylum.
Anyway, I feel better today – heck, I’m so proud of myself for not showing the slightest curl of that embarassing temper of mine even with rude arseholes like XYZ during registration today. There is also a blessing in meeting and talking with new people. I met AW over brunch and talked about our thoughts on life, past and present, people, religion, music, etc. AW is a bass guitarist I met earlier in July but only recently gotten to know better. She’s sort of a rebel – which I like. The type who isn’t afraid to show his/her self despite what others think. I always get attracted to people with a some hues/colours to their personalities. They remind me that life is what you make it – even at the expense of appearing to be a society goon :)
I guess the other thing that made me feel better is that I cut off my bob and opted for a really short hair-do. It’s weird but the effect is quite liberating. Bah, will write more later.
The Education graduate students made a trip about 20kms from Aundh Road to a place called Khadakwasla for a little retreat. What made the trip memorable were the things you see along the way and the people that you spent time with. Enjoy the pictures!
A more traditional vehicle that shared the Indian roads
Honk OK, please! Yes baby…
So where are we going?
Typical buses
A more rustic road leading to the retreat
Wildflowers
A Marathi breakfast that greeted us upon arrival
The Couple :)
Games, games, games
The rain dance, a concept that is very famous here – Fix sprinklers on the ceiling, put on some dance music and find your partner or if you’re not comfy with that do a groupy :) Yes, Adventists can dance hahaha.
The dam
Dryer on wheels
Shoe boy
Fruit stall
More pictures on my facebook.
The semester is over and I should be feeling relieved. But, it’s not that easy. How can you let go of a very significant encounter that has left you feeling intruded, prodded inside out and then abandoned – as if by going through all those excruciating moments, I am now a complete (wo)man – capable of fending life on my own. The fact is all it successfully made me feel was, I have been left to die on the roadside.
Learning, as they have repeatedly emphasized, is a life-changing experience. All those times when I felt helpless with my own thoughts, my pitiful attempts to solve a mental crime, and then there’s the unfortunate effects of broken relationships felt as if I am certified of completely uncapable of running an empire I call life. We always think that emotions is everything to our sanity. That is hard to deny. Feelings are hard to ignore. Hmmm. I’m not sure how I will go on from here. It does feels awkward after all. As if the mock battle had left a serious injury. And I beckon the world to attention: “Look… my entrails are hanging out from my belly. See… I am unable to put them all back and stitch the wounds myself.” Hmmm. This is the part of life that I am still not sure how to deal with even today. My hurt. A small hurt to some but means a great deal to me. How do you get over it? How do you forget? How should you feel relieved?
Wish it was completely over.
