Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
A true friend...
Anyone who had ever set eyes on him,
will always remember the way,
he used to greet you(read sniffing and jumping up and down) .
Never a hesitation,
a open heart and
no grudges ever.
The kind who'd always want to play ,
no matter how tired or exhausted he'd be,
if you are game then so am i would be his word if he could talk.
A friend who would let you be the kid you are and at the same time allow you to feel uninhibited.
Very rarely would you catch him sitting calmly, when its not his resting time, a voracious appetite and ready to spare all the time he had for you. Well that my Dog, Jhonty, a true, cuddly and a selfless friend.
Everyone needs a name to be called by and believe me he too has had his share with auric, goldie, monty being the top runners but the superior fielding prowess of the world best fielder Jhonty Rhodes shifted our preference to his name and added to this it rhymed with our aunt's old lab, Monty.
Jhonty began life known as Pasha's Pup a thoroughbred with irish ancestors, the first time we saw him was a day after my aunts 50th birthday, when my brother adamantly refused to let go of the offer of gettign a new pup. A quick call back home confirmed that we could have the pup and off we set out to get it. From his early days, he proved to be a crowd puller, proof of this attested by all my cousins aunts and the billions of relatives who've ever had the good fortune to meet him.
We brought him from bangalore by train wher he again caught the attention of our fellow passengers and ofcourse the ticket collector who wanted to see the ticket for the pup. How are you supposed to know that a ticket is required for a dog? but a little cash on the side solved the problem and we got him safely home. A bit apprehensive at first on dash's(our oter dog) reaction to the new addition to the household. Suprisingly they both got along just fine. Take it as a lesson on the art of negotiating.
A few months down the line Jhonty outgrew dash buy several inches but still had the same respect he had when he was just a wee bit of a baby, the respect continued till the day he passed away. Never once could you actually find the two of them sulking around the bad blood between them were sorted out within minutes and they were back to being happy and gay... pun intended!
Jhonty grew up around a lot of people who loved pets of any kind and yes this made him a spoilt little brat. Often the idea of doing things his way had to be curbed and the next second you can find him under the dining table looking all morose and sad, you just cant stay angry any longer. Man you should actually see the look of innocense he was capable of exhibiting it was just out of this world. Bet not even the greatest actor of our era can replicate that look.
His constant companion was his lovable toys(read ball and ring). very rarely would he be seen without it and if they were not available then it would be carpets, gunny bags, slippers, coconuts and logs. Well its better the Ball, whatever the cost maybe, than to that long list anyday. Two secrets Jhonty ever had was his constant fear of injections, which invariably made the doctor his nemsis, and the fact he absolutely had no intrest in mating. A sad fact cause if he knew, then he'd have left back someone to carry on his legacy.
I know the list can go on and on but then I would not want to bore a lot of people with several mundane details that are actually of interest to me, but can bore the rest of you. No matter how much you write on someone you like and is your true friend and family, it just isn't enough. The memories stay with you, only to burden your heart on the loss of a loved one, but it also gives you glimpses of the times you've shared and enjoyed.
Jhonty you'll be truly missed my friend.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
A song…
They say there is a song for every mood… we sing when we are happy, when we are sad, when we are embarrassed, when we celebrate, when we are bored, etc etc…..
I happened to enjoy an hour and half of enthralling folk music which I must honestly say that without the sub titles would actually be Greek and Latin to me, but never the less enjoyable. The theme of the hour was like I said folk music and it was an absolute revelation when you can actually depict the countries plight through music. The music/poem having the distinct local flavor, heartfelt and to the core dealt with the problems of a particular region sung in the dialect and yet in its own subtle way help you understand and feel/sympathise with the singer.
The musical began with a poem or rather sur about a slum dweller, whose mother happens to be a prostitute, and this little slum dwellers life from birth to death. In the beginning he has a carefree life then during his teenage years he asks who his father is, the mother tells him something and in his 20’s as an angry adult the mother rudely asks him if she is going to remember who his father was among her several thousand long list of clients. This further aggravates the youth and turns him against the city and all that it represents, namely wealth. The poem shifts drastically against the term wealth and all that it stands for, the young lad sees it as the cause of all his problems. Looking at it from his point of view the kid’s very existence or rather his presence in the city is because of money. Then it is followed by the usual melodrama of the mother passing away and the youths aimless existence in this world until the day he to passes away carrying with him and his ideas of the cruelties of wealth.
From this realistic yet materialistic world the focus shifts to a the heartland of the nation where an old man sits in a very small living space teaching a small yet really loud group of kids the lines of why there is indifference in this world and who is going to resolve them. The question asked is who would eradicate the world of inequalities? The elitist’s? The government? Education? The question remains unanswered.
This unanswered question is what provides entry for the next poem from the cotton fields of Andhra. A man puts forth a question with this solo on caste based separation. Why is it, he asks, there a different rule for a person of a lower caste and a totally different set for another? The song takes the path of a question format imploring the people to give answers to the questions raised. Questions like if you wash your hands after touching a lower caste person would you rather stop breathing in the air we so need for our sustenance. The song goes on to comment that there are a set of people who think themselves above the law and that they do what they please as and when they please and then happily hide behind the law coz they are the privileged. Well of course they are even if you actually thought the law is blind and we frequently see the blindfolded lady with the scales sitting mighty pretty in any court of law, the law doesn’t shun the people based on their caste but the society does.
Does it sound right if the society thinks it is wrong to do something and it automatically becomes right, that when the law is the same for all? This is the inequality that the person in the song was pensively humming out, an inequality based on the caste systems of our country. Some of the very thoughts we stick on to so vehemently is sadly what denies us the freedom to think and act like we like to. A point the person sing the song was particularly concerned about was that the elite cotton farmer and his offspring (touché) had no qualms about satisfying his sexual needs with a person of a lower caste. Now with all this talk about an upper caste and a lower caste why not this time? Beats me too. Double Standards?
With talks about the inequalities in wealth and inequalities in caste the scene slowly but cleverly shifts to the conflicts of the north - eastern states. Namely the Nagas and the Manipuris…. Don’t know if I am using the term right. The shot of the people who have given up their lives fighting for a cause they believed in and the supporting songs by the theological society actually makes you feel sorry for the people. The very idea of the fight is still a mystery to me. Well that’s just my opinion but then if one state actually fights over the central government claiming their independence then it isn’t too far behind when the other states to follow suit. Times come and times go but then the very action the British Rulers put into action before our independence is what is being witnessed in these present time. The policy of, “Divide and Rule”. How long do you think a small state like Nagaland is going to hold out against a mightier power once they attain their freedom? Just my opinion.
Thinking about all the emotions that a simple song, evoked in someone like me, is actually quite enough to understand the power of a song. What is a song but a few lyrics and some strong emotions? I for one must agree with Kalil Gibran when he said that in my soul is a wordless song. Hmmm just hoping that the song in me never dies but renews itself every day.
Leaving you in the words of EY Harburg, “Words make you think a thought. Music makes you feel a feeling. A song makes you feel a thought”.
I happened to enjoy an hour and half of enthralling folk music which I must honestly say that without the sub titles would actually be Greek and Latin to me, but never the less enjoyable. The theme of the hour was like I said folk music and it was an absolute revelation when you can actually depict the countries plight through music. The music/poem having the distinct local flavor, heartfelt and to the core dealt with the problems of a particular region sung in the dialect and yet in its own subtle way help you understand and feel/sympathise with the singer.
The musical began with a poem or rather sur about a slum dweller, whose mother happens to be a prostitute, and this little slum dwellers life from birth to death. In the beginning he has a carefree life then during his teenage years he asks who his father is, the mother tells him something and in his 20’s as an angry adult the mother rudely asks him if she is going to remember who his father was among her several thousand long list of clients. This further aggravates the youth and turns him against the city and all that it represents, namely wealth. The poem shifts drastically against the term wealth and all that it stands for, the young lad sees it as the cause of all his problems. Looking at it from his point of view the kid’s very existence or rather his presence in the city is because of money. Then it is followed by the usual melodrama of the mother passing away and the youths aimless existence in this world until the day he to passes away carrying with him and his ideas of the cruelties of wealth.
From this realistic yet materialistic world the focus shifts to a the heartland of the nation where an old man sits in a very small living space teaching a small yet really loud group of kids the lines of why there is indifference in this world and who is going to resolve them. The question asked is who would eradicate the world of inequalities? The elitist’s? The government? Education? The question remains unanswered.
This unanswered question is what provides entry for the next poem from the cotton fields of Andhra. A man puts forth a question with this solo on caste based separation. Why is it, he asks, there a different rule for a person of a lower caste and a totally different set for another? The song takes the path of a question format imploring the people to give answers to the questions raised. Questions like if you wash your hands after touching a lower caste person would you rather stop breathing in the air we so need for our sustenance. The song goes on to comment that there are a set of people who think themselves above the law and that they do what they please as and when they please and then happily hide behind the law coz they are the privileged. Well of course they are even if you actually thought the law is blind and we frequently see the blindfolded lady with the scales sitting mighty pretty in any court of law, the law doesn’t shun the people based on their caste but the society does.
Does it sound right if the society thinks it is wrong to do something and it automatically becomes right, that when the law is the same for all? This is the inequality that the person in the song was pensively humming out, an inequality based on the caste systems of our country. Some of the very thoughts we stick on to so vehemently is sadly what denies us the freedom to think and act like we like to. A point the person sing the song was particularly concerned about was that the elite cotton farmer and his offspring (touché) had no qualms about satisfying his sexual needs with a person of a lower caste. Now with all this talk about an upper caste and a lower caste why not this time? Beats me too. Double Standards?
With talks about the inequalities in wealth and inequalities in caste the scene slowly but cleverly shifts to the conflicts of the north - eastern states. Namely the Nagas and the Manipuris…. Don’t know if I am using the term right. The shot of the people who have given up their lives fighting for a cause they believed in and the supporting songs by the theological society actually makes you feel sorry for the people. The very idea of the fight is still a mystery to me. Well that’s just my opinion but then if one state actually fights over the central government claiming their independence then it isn’t too far behind when the other states to follow suit. Times come and times go but then the very action the British Rulers put into action before our independence is what is being witnessed in these present time. The policy of, “Divide and Rule”. How long do you think a small state like Nagaland is going to hold out against a mightier power once they attain their freedom? Just my opinion.
Thinking about all the emotions that a simple song, evoked in someone like me, is actually quite enough to understand the power of a song. What is a song but a few lyrics and some strong emotions? I for one must agree with Kalil Gibran when he said that in my soul is a wordless song. Hmmm just hoping that the song in me never dies but renews itself every day.
Leaving you in the words of EY Harburg, “Words make you think a thought. Music makes you feel a feeling. A song makes you feel a thought”.
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