Posted in Life, Personal Musings, Photography Art, Reflections

Flap to Flight

Cooped in the same stretch of space for a couple of weeks drives “not just the toddler in the house” but also the bigger ones into a frenzy. While the taller they are the more refined become the ways to kill boredom, the smaller ones don’t get diverted that easy. Which is why one of the practical purchases online included the “bi-no-culars”. Courtesy of it, the first project of interest was the nest on the old banyan tree in the backyard. For we had chanced upon the family of coppersmith barbet (chempukotti), with their hatch-lings residing covert amidst the branches.

“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.” J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan

The curiosity and whispers that accompanied for the next couple of days were about the happenings on the tree. One of the activities observed was how the three fledglings were taught to fly. After the first few falls from the nest, they discovered that by spreading out the wings, the falls were not that jarring. After a couple of days the next things we saw was them flying onto the low branches.

What set the grey cells into action was the fact that they had “spread their wings and flapped”. Putting that little lesson into the realities of life, each of us are thrown into the situations that we least expect. There are many ways to deal with those scenarios. Crib and cry, or buckle up, gather the few feathers we have or grow new ones, spread them out and learn to flap. Eventually we’ll fly. At the end of the day, it all boils down what we really want to do. If one really wants to fly, know that one can and will. Whether it may be soon, in some time or long time; that isn’t entirely in our hands but what we can do is to learn and try. The rest shall soon follow.

“I was shown a fledgling learning to fly. It’s first efforts were very feeble. But as it used its wings more and more, they became stronger until it found the freedom of flight and was able to soar to great heights and fly great distance without any effort. I heard the words: Faith comes with practice. Live by faith until it becomes rocklike unshakable, and find the true freedom of the spirit.” Eileen Caddy

“You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.” Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon

Posted in Christian, Musique, Photography Art, Reflections

Chimes of the Day

“Christmas Bells”
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

As the lights twinkle nearby, both above and nearby, they bring a Christmas different from the year previous. Instead of the usual family all pouring in, this year it would be a half and half, few of us together and the rest sharing in the joy from different parts of the world or even the same state or areas as well. Whichever way it may be, the essence of Christmas doesn’t change.

With the last minute preparations being completed, the candles are lit, ribbon-ed and christingles are completed; it all brings to the mind of the faith that things will always change for the better. As Christmas always reminds us of the unconditional love God had for each of us, bringing light into an otherwise dark world. Though the seasons change and winds may go against us, there’s always the hope that His Light gives. Even the dark cloudy skies have the occasional twinkle from the stars that lie in them. All one needs to do, is to hang on and do their bit; for the rest will come through.

“After listening to the king, they went on their way. And behold, the star that they had seen when it rose went before them until it came to rest over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh.” (Mathew 2:9-11)

As this Christmas comes and will soon go by, to remember to carry on the message of love and peace is what is important. To make room in our hearts for those who need a hand. To know to cherish, support and love those around us. And above all, to always share a little bit of kindness along the way as we go across different paths is what brings the sparkle and peace to not not just the lives that go by us, but into our own as well.

As each Christmas says, let the spirit of love and goodwill always be a part and parcel of us, no matter how troubled or different times may be. For as always, love, hope and faith shall conquer all.

“Feliz Navidad, próspero año y felicidad.”

“Music on Christmas Morning”

Music I love -­ but never strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine -­
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne.

Though Darkness still her empire keep,
And hours must pass, ere morning break;
From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep,
That music kindly bids us wake:
It calls us, with an angel’s voice,
To wake, and worship, and rejoice;
-by Anne Brontë

Posted in Personal Musings, Photo Captions, Photography Art, Reflections

Take your Pick

“To do or not…right choice or wrong one…”

This refrain often comes to the subconscious mind, often at the oddest of moments. At times it may be on-the -spur of the moment, other times it may be in course of experiences the sequelae of events which have been set in motion by the action of the years previous or beyond, by self or even by those around us. In short, there is always an inner nagging feel of “what if’s” especially when the tide goes against one.

What do we with the choices we have ? To choose or not ? Was it the right or wrong one ? Which one is more or less hard ? Is it possible to live a life without crossing certain lines (not those of self or intentional harm though)? Is it possible to experience life without any risk ? Is life always hard for me ? Is anyone else in the same boat, with me ? Is it just me ?

As these thoughts run rampant in the mind; the hope that the true choices will eventually work out, is what keeps the mind and heart sane. As they always say, life isn’t a bed of roses. Where there are roses, there are thorns. To smell the rose, one needs to learn how to settle the thorns (which is an activity worth it’s weight more than gold). How to choose to settle the thorns, makes us experience the beauty of the bloom. So what are we waiting for ?

Choose but be wise about it. Though this hindsight comes over time, one needs to start away. Like Newton’s third law of action and reaction, there are always pros and cons. Yet above all that, follow your instinct, heart and soul. As they align, the mind falls into place and things pan out. Balance mayn’t always be there but trust yourself and bloom. The beauty of the rose always withstands the thorns of life.

“The lotus is the most beautiful flower, whose petals open one by one. But it will only grow in the mud. In order to grow and gain wisdom, first you must have the mud — the obstacles of life and its suffering. … The mud speaks of the common ground that humans share, no matter what our stations in life. … Whether we have it all or we have nothing, we are all faced with the same obstacles: sadness, loss, illness, dying and death. If we are to strive as human beings to gain more wisdom, more kindness and more compassion, we must have the intention to grow as a lotus and open each petal one by one. ” Goldie Hawn

Posted in Daily, Personal Musings, Photography Art, poetry

Out of the “State”

When in the mood for a stress release, the all-time favourite is to lose own self in books or literature of any kind, from novels to online reads and the like. Though on some days, it mayn’t work, among the options of Netflix, Spotify and so on; one of them is to observe the toddlers and above at play. From trying to make buildings to antics of monkeys to get the kite stuck in the low branches of the tree or the swing, the tedious hours gets a fresh turn. As far as perseverance is concerned, children to do know quite a bit about it, especially when the cookie jar is placed way up the top shelf or the aren’t in the usual place. They don’t stop till they get those delicious crumbs on their dress.

“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.” Socrates

Bad days will come, but how long they stay, the impact they leave and their effect, all depends on own thinking and state of the gray cells within. If and when those “bad times” govern our thoughts, all hell breaks loose. And when they don’t get the upper hand, the rays of light filter trough the breaks among the black clouds and eventually the brightness stays on and spreads ahead. The point lies in how eager one is to get the cookie jar. When one falters, learn to pick up own-self with help and inspiration from the world around us. Eventually we do get to it, no matter how hidden or how high the jar is placed. It all boils down to what, how and when we think and in doing so, just believe and charge ahead.

“It’s All In A State Of Mind”

If you think you are beaten, you are,
If you think you dare not, you don’t,
If you like to win, but you think you can’t,
It’s almost a “cinch” you won’t.

If you think you’ll lose, you’ve lost,
For out in the world you find
Success begins with a fellow’s will;
It’s all in the state of mind.

Full many a race is lost
Ere ever a step is run;
And many a coward fails
Ere ever his work’s begun.

Think big and your deeds will grow,
Think small and you’ll fall behind,
Think that you can and you will;
It’s all in the state of mind.

If you think you’re outclassed, you are,
You’ve got to think high to rise,
You’ve got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize.

Life’s battles don’t always go
To the stronger or faster man,
But sooner or later, the man who wins,
Is the fellow who thinks he can.

-Walter D. Wintle

Posted in Life, Personal Musings, Photography Art, poetry

Little of All

Somedays one hopes that a switch could be made, that would give on ean option to just change places and get some peace and quiet. No sooner than this thought balzes through the mind, that another one follows that no matter what the present circumstances may be, there are certain things that one would prefer to carry with them wherever they may go.

“The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms, it has its tides and in its depths it has its pearls too” Vincent Van Gogh

Troubles. True they are plenty in number; then again once in a while we do need them to appreciate what we have at hand.

Blessings. We all have a share of them, whether they be in ounces or gallons; they are there in one form or the other; depends on which we look.

Grace. They do exist, maybe coming along to prove their existence when least expected. Then again, they are there; if not one does find them or they chance upon us along the way.

Steps. All it involves putting one foot in front of the other, though direction of those steps involve a matter of choice, effort and the innate conscience within us.

Hope. Look forward to experience the colours along the horizon, then somewhere along our dreams get a spark to give a little light within.

Add a little of all above and more, it would give us a semblance to live through some moments that life takes us through. All of us need a little of the “good and the bad” to let us know that the beast within do have a rhythm and will of their own. When the varied notes come into play, it may be a sonnet, a pop, a song or just a tune. What ever it may be, the music with the dance is our own, so what are we waiting for ?

This is Life
Ken Smith

I saw the glory of the sunrise,
Breathed the invigorating air,
And my soul rose to the very skies
When I sallied forth, proud to dare.
That was the morning.

The awful heat of the day came down;
I stooped, and my brow was wet with sweat.
And when I saw Misfortune frown
I cried, “I am not conquered yet!”
That was the noonday.

The softer shades of twilight fell
And released my grip in the strife.
I am contented now to dwell
Where understanding sweetens life..
This is eventide.

Posted in Family and Society, Personal Musings, Photography Art

Of Import

Hindsight is often a painful thing, but in retrospect a gift in disguise. Unfortunately, the latter bit is well appreciated years later.

The things that matter most must never be at the mercy of the things that matter least.” Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

What one needs to remember that the thoughts running through, song whistled or felt in the morning, doesn’t mean much in what is it. Instead it holds a special place for it gave wings to fly for the whole day.

Whether it be a big house or a small one, as long as it is a “home”, it is indeed a blessing to feel so.

If it follows that one is alone or by self for now, or enfolded by family and friends, more than the style or way we live, embracing life as a harmony of sensations. Of the sparkling moments evened out by the more mundane, dull or unsavoury ones; life is to be lived and felt as a whole.

More than the words that float about us around us, unless one deeply knows who they are from within; life along with her best parts and gifts may be lost in the wind.

More than that, over time, one realizes that we are a part of a bigger fabric. Each of us holds a special song, a tune or a turn; part of a special thread. This is felt by the heart and soul living within each of us. All this is what makes one, every now and then, be able to thaw out the iciness and bring in the gentleness in the world that surrounds us. As time refines us, one realizes that these are the things that really matter the most.

Posted in Life, Personal Musings, Photography Art, poetry

Of First Light

Being thrown in at the deep, the past couple of weeks have been running on, in a non-stop mode. Hassles of keeping our professional security intact, resulted in splitting up of the adult part of the family unit. Adding to them is the current system of “online-schools” ( with plenty of home-schooling, the latter being a necessity); work from home, lack of help due to curbs on travel, unexpected setbacks and expenses; things aren’t really looking good. Then again, this holds true for most of us. When things are few and far between, the choices waver between being in limbo or just picking up the pieces and find a way through.

“The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide you’re not going to stay where you are.” J.P.Morgan

Truth is no day is consistent. Some days one gets to breathe a bit or an optimistic turn to look at the bright side of life; whereas other days just become a drag. For those with family, we may wish to be alone at times. For those of us staying alone for now, we wish our near and dear ones were at hand. The mind is in a constant of conflict, not just from emotions but also random thoughts which may plague one at the odd times of the day. Restlessness becomes a part and parcel of the self.

“For a tree to become tall it must grow tough roots among the rocks.” Friedrich Nietzsche

Change is there. Whichever way one looks at it, things will never go back to the old norm. Uncertainty fuels the inner restlessness, upsets the mental balance and this cycle just goes on. Over the past few weeks, being stationed on the porch way before the cockcrow began a new routine. Watching the rays chase away the dark of the night, gives one the hope of another try, a different way to handle each situation and look for any missed chances or overlooked possibilities. If it rains, an eye still is kept for the warmth of the light. For now, that alone is sufficient to chase away the chill within. After all, life has to go on.

By Candlelight
BY EDITH SITWELL

Houses red as flower of bean,
Flickering leaves and shadows lean!
Pantalone, like a parrot,
Sat and grumbled in the garret—
Sat and growled and grumbled till
Moon upon the window-sill
Like a red geranium
Scented his bald cranium.
Said Brighella, meaning well:
“Pack your box and—go to Hell!
Heat will cure your rheumatism!” . . .
Silence crowned this optimism—
Not a sound and not a wail:
But the fire (lush leafy vales)
Watched the angry feathers fly.
Pantalone ’gan to cry—
Could not, would not, pack his box!
Shadows (curtseying hens and cocks)
Pecking in the attic gloom
Tried to smother his tail-plume . . .
Till a cockscomb candle-flame
Crowing loudly, died: Dawn came.