Who was he. . .

Last night I was at the crossroads. A few people were milling around there.

I saw an old man being assisted by a young lad. The latter's features were obscured. He was helping the old man walk at the cross roads.

After a brief moment, I found myself frantically looking for the boy, but he had vanished. "Who was he?" I wondered.

The name 'velavā' echoed repeatedly. And I woke up.

Weekend pleasures

Logged into Battle dot Net after almost eight months.  And just experienced my first taste of Draenor.  Beginning to play the new expansion.

Lots of lore, new quests, running around building my garrison.

Unlike Mists, I plan to take this one slow and sweet.  No running to raid.  No hurry to level up. Just enjoying the experience.

More later.

Tennis training

The young'un has started playing tennis. And is showing some interest in the game actually.

Here is a picture of him waiting his turn at the courts.  Bad light but hey...

Reclamation

Deleted my Facebook and Twitter accounts.  Permanently.

Will be here more often with my thoughts and rants.

S

44. . . and counting

पंछी बनूँ उड़ती फिरूं मस्त गगन में
आज मैं आज़ाद हूँ दुनिया के चमन में

Happy birthday to me.

The Hindustan Times' Duplicity

So, in as many times in the last two days, my online comments on two articles in the web version of Hindustan Times have been deleted/barred from public viewing.

The first article had to do with Rajdeep Sardesai and Sagarika Ghose's exit/long leave of absence from CNN IBN (see article here).  In my comment I said that both of them had abused the privileges of the channel and used it as their "personal playground" to engage in systematic Modi bashing.  I also questioned Sagarika's article from many years ago, where she asked for a rewrite of the Hindu hymn, the purusha sukta. 

The second article had to do with Barkha Dutt's opinion that our Prime Minister, Mr. Modi's silence on issues is perplexing (see article here).  I replied to her stating that she should also expect disappointment if he does not oblige as also comments to the effect that the rules of political engagement by the current PM and his office have changed now.

My responses to both these comments was civil and I believe comply with HT's Ts & Cs as well as its privacy policy.  

I have certainly seen worse comments including personal attacks on both these articles (my opinion) that have made it past the goal post.

I find it strange that the Hindustan Times seeks freedom of speech and expression as a media house but is unwilling to extend the same courtesy to the people who visit its website and post comments.  Did their monitoring/review people feel personally threatened when I made those comments?  Or that it would spark furore and outrage? Or start an online flaming war?

Shame on you Hindustan Times. 

Sumanth

The Gruffalo Song by Julia Donaldson

Among one of Atri's favourite songs is the one about the little brown mouse and the Gruffalo.  Originally written by Julia Donaldson, the song is a masterpiece and among my favourite bed time reads for Atri. Here it is reproduced in entirety:

The Gruffalo Song:

A mouse took a stroll through the deep dark wood.
A fox saw the mouse, and the mouse looked good.

"Where are you going to, little brown mouse?
Come and have lunch in my underground house."

"It's terribly kind of you, Fox, but no –
I'm going to have lunch with a gruffalo."

"A gruffalo? What's a gruffalo?"
"A gruffalo! Why, didn't you know?

He has terrible tusks, and terrible claws,
And terrible teeth in his terrible jaws."

"Where are you meeting him?"
"Here, by these rocks,
And his favourite food is roasted fox."

"Roasted fox! I'm off!" Fox said.
"Goodbye, little mouse," and away he sped.

"Silly old Fox! Doesn't he know,
There's no such thing as a gruffalo?"

On went the mouse through the deep dark wood.
An owl saw the mouse, and the mouse looked good.

"Where are you going to, little brown mouse?
Come and have tea in my treetop house."

"It's terribly kind of you, Owl, but no –
I'm going to have tea with a gruffalo."

"A gruffalo? What's a gruffalo?"
"A gruffalo! Why, didn't you know?

He has knobbly knees, and turned-out toes,
And a poisonous wart at the end of his nose."

"Where are you meeting him?"
"Here, by this stream,
And his favourite food is owl ice cream."

"Owl ice cream! Toowhit toowhoo!"
"Goodbye, little mouse," and away Owl flew.

"Silly old Owl! Doesn't he know,
There's no such thing as a gruffalo?"

On went the mouse through the deep dark wood.
A snake saw the mouse, and the mouse looked good.

"Where are you going to, little brown mouse?
Come for a feast in my logpile house."

"It's terribly kind of you, Snake, but no –
I'm having a feast with a gruffalo."

"A gruffalo? What's a gruffalo?"
"A gruffalo! Why, didn't you know?

His eyes are orange, his tongue is black,
He has purple prickles all over his back."

"Where are you meeting him?"
"Here, by this lake,
And his favourite food is scrambled snake."

"Scrambled snake! It's time I hid!"
"Goodbye, little mouse," and away Snake slid.

"Silly old Owl! Doesn't he know,
There's no such thing as a gruffal...?"

...OH!"

But who is this creature with terrible claws
And terrible teeth in his terrible jaws?
He has knobbly knees, and turned-out toes,
And a poisonous wart at the end of his nose.
His eyes are orange, his tongue is black,
He has purple prickles all over his back.

"Oh help! Oh no!
It's a gruffalo!"

"My favourite food!" the Gruffalo said.
"You'll taste good on a slice of bread!"

"Good?" said the mouse. "Don't call me good!
I'm the scariest creature in this wood.
Just walk behind me and soon you'll see,
Everyone is afraid of me."

"All right," said the Gruffalo, bursting with laughter.
"You go ahead and I'll follow after."

They walked and walked till the Gruffalo said,
"I hear a hiss in the leaves ahead."

"It's Snake," said the mouse. "Why, Snake, hello!"
Snake took one look at the Gruffalo.
"Oh crumbs!" he said, "Goodbye, little mouse!"
And off he slid to his logpile house.

"You see?" said the mouse. "I told you so."
"Amazing!" said the Gruffalo.

They walked some more till the Gruffalo said,
"I hear a hoot in the trees ahead."

"It's Owl," said the mouse. "Why, Owl, hello!"
Owl took one look at the Gruffalo.
"Oh dear!" he said, "Goodbye, little mouse!"
And off he flew to his treetop house.

"You see?" said the mouse. "I told you so."
"Astounding!" said the Gruffalo.

They walked some more till the Gruffalo said,
"I can hear feet on the path ahead."

"It's Fox," said the mouse. "Why, Fox, hello!"
Fox took one look at the Gruffalo.
"Oh help!" he said, "Goodbye, little mouse!"
And off he ran to his underground house.

"Well, Gruffalo," said the mouse. "You see?
Everyone is afraid of me!
But now my tummy's beginning to rumble.
My favourite food is – gruffalo crumble!"

"Gruffalo crumble!" the Gruffalo said,
And quick as the wind he turned and fled.

All was quiet in the deep dark wood.
The mouse found a nut and the nut was good.

Great bed time read.  I told you!

Welcome My Friends To The Show That Never Ends

Today I went to the circus with family. 

Funnily, the jury's out on who enjoyed it more. For me it was reliving my childhood. Atri was bored in 30 minutes flat. 

As always I loved the acrobats. Costumes, sequins and all!

Syedna Burhanuddin

Today I read about Syedna Mohammed  Burhanuddin's passing. Very saddened. 

Among the greatest spiritual leaders in the world. A man of goodwill, fortitude, love and peace. 

For all the good he has brought to us, may his soul find rest. 

Forgive Us Our Cynical Thoughts

There is a delightful song by a band called Rush.  It's called Emotion Detector.  The first lines of which run thus:

When we lift the covers from our feelings
We expose our insecure spots
Trust is just as rare as devotion
Forgive us our cynical thoughts

I am constantly amazed by the insecurities of the people who surround me.  It makes it difficult for ME to trust THEM, unconditionally or otherwise.

It's almost as if I measure them often and find them, well . . .  - Mene Mene Tekel Upharsin  - if you get my meaning.

Octave Mirbeau

As I start 2014, I remember Mirbeau's singular quote from the Torture Garden, a book I read over 2 decades ago:

"You're obliged to pretend respect for people and institutions you think absurd. You live attached in a cowardly fashion to moral and social conventions you despise, condemn, and know lack all foundation. It is that permanent contradiction between your ideas and desires and all the dead formalities and vain pretenses of your civilization which makes you sad, troubled and unbalanced. In that intolerable conflict you lose all joy of life and all feeling of personality, because at every moment they suppress and restrain and check the free play of your powers. That is the poisoned and mortal wound of the civilized world."

My continuing resolution for the coming year is Never More.

S