A little kingdom I possess,
Where thoughts and feelings dwell;
And very hard the task I find
Of governing it well.
~ Louisa May Alcott

...that more or less describes my situation!

 
It is ages since I first discovered my love for books and surprisingly, it’s as fresh as ever. The first book I read (not considering the school books) was perhaps an Enid Blyton. I might not enjoy it today, but it helped me enter into a world that has never stopped fascinating me and where the wonders never seem to cease.

From one book I graduated to another and from thereon to another; the journey still continues though the companions change. They all left something of them in me, and if not for them, I can’t imagine myself being the person I am.

A particular period of this journey is most clearly etched in my memory; the time when I was lucky enough to come upon the books that have since been closest to my heart. Of course, there are other books too that mean a lot to me, but these are something special and I can’t even begin to explain why…

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen…The magic of the quiet English countryside and those charming, beautiful people. How I wished I could be a part of their romantic little world ! I was in the seventh grade then and thought it was the most wonderful book I had ever read. Strange, I still think so.

I remember, years later, I wished to introduce someone to the beauty of books. He didn’t care much for literature but wasn’t exactly averse to my ministrations. What book could I choose but this…I would send him a chapter each day and then eagerly enquire what he thought of it…

I don’t know if I paid any attention at all to my studies at that time, because just after I finished with Pride and Prejudice, I was immersed in another idyllic world – I refer to Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

It is precisely when one has plenty to express that one is lost for words. I felt so emotionally caught up and bound with this book and its characters, that nothing could happen in it and that not have an effect on me.

It was a sad moment when I reached the end; sad not only because I had hoped for a happier ending but also because I could not bear to part; part with a part of me that had lived through the book…


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 8:11 pm 0 comments

 
I have always been reserved by nature. In my childhood, it used to bother me. People would say, "Why doesn't she mix around with the other kids?" and I would wonder why they wouldn't let me be. It didn't matter to me what they thought or said, but to my parents, it did. They wanted me to be a model kid (like all parents do) and opinions mattered.

When I would go to Mangalore every two years, amid the usual exclamations and protestations, there was no mistaking the familiar, " Our Preeti is as shy as ever". I was the darling of the house and the words were spoken with affection…

But they would hurt nonetheless. Perhaps it is harder to take criticism from those you love and I couldn't help but see it as criticism. I wished they would love me as I was.

When I became responsible for myself, it was easier. I wasn't as shy or as reticent as before, but apart from a few close friends, everybody else would have labelled me as reserved. Strangely, people who would have a certain impression of me when they first met me, would later, on deeper acquaintance confide to me that I was nothing like they had imagined. But then, in the same breath, they would also ask, "but why are you so reserved?" For a minute I would be lost for words. I couldn't feel the same warmth I had felt a moment ago and would matter-of-factly mutter, "Oh, that's how I've always been " as if explaining away some chronic disease.

I failed to understand why people couldn't accept a person as he/she was. Why couldn't they realise that that was the way they were just as you are the way you are. If you don't like the way they are, move on, but why extend your hand and then deal a slap.

Friends are as much a product of chance as of choice. A friend of mine (I always admired her energy and vivacity) never could let an opportunity slip by without telling me that I didn't know how to live life. The more I tried to tell her I was happy as I was, the less convinced she would be. It was like a personal affront to her; that someone who did not partake of the same pleasures that she did, could still claim to be enjoying herself. She didn't believe a word of it and said so.

If my saying I can see is not proof enough that I'm not blind, I don't know what is. I let the matter rest there.


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 12:45 pm 0 comments

 
I've heard of people who are not happy with who they are and luckily for them, the net has come as a blessing. They can now be anybody they fancy and no one to tell the difference. There are also those with a twisted idea of fun; they have now found the ideal platform.

While there is much that is good about the net, unfortunately, a certain kind of people are not happy to let it remain that way.

A recent incident has convinced me of this. A person has been assuming the identity of Codelust (a fellow blogger) and posting offensive comments on this blog. If anymore such comments appear in his name, we know it is not him. As for this person, I hope he's had his fun and if not, I hope he finds better ways of deriving it.



posted by Sylvia D'souza at 3:35 pm 0 comments

 
Ae mere dil kahiin aur chal,
Gam ki duniya se dil bhar gaya,
Dhoond le aur koi ghar naya......
Ae mere dil kahiin aur chal...

Strange how music can take you to another level, another plane.....

.....the melodies of this song seeped into my brain while I quietly made my way home; the day's events flashed before my eyes causing pain....but I did not feel it, instead I felt a sweet pleasure.....the song was like a balm to my soul and I felt happy I was hurt...if only to feel the soothing carress of its magical notes.....how much meaning was packed in those few words and how beautifully did they express what I could not......



posted by Sylvia D'souza at 6:53 pm 0 comments

 
Thousands of people in the U.S claim that they had been abducted by aliens. Why the aliens chose to abduct them or why they dropped them back on earth, are questions they do not answer. A scientist is known to have said, "If the aliens would only keep all the folks they abduct, our world would be a little saner." I suppose that makes more than a little sense.

I cannot, for the life of me figure out why otherwise normal people (I assume they're otherwise normal) should make up such stories. From what I've read it seems that these people may have possibly gone through traumatic events early in life and this is how they find a release. I wonder why so many people should choose to find a release in this manner. I mean, why don't they exercise a little imagination and come up with something more original? Why Alien's and U.F.Os, for whatever's sake?

If one person were to dream of such a thing, there would be nothing going for him, but a mass of people chanting this same thing is sure something to notice. There may not be anything in their stories, but there's something in this phenomenon itself.

I wonder if the people who say they had been so abducted or those who are certain they had spotted U.F.Os, are really all that sure about their experiences. If yes, I find it difficult to imagine them as sane individuals and if not, I find it yet more difficult to imagine their motivations. Attention seems to be the best bet, but to think that people would go as far as this to gain attention defies thinking (atleast mine)

There are several reasons why it's impossible that aliens could have been visiting earth, though the possibility of such a thing happening in future has not been discounted either. I will not get into the details, but that's what the people who should know have to say (ofcourse, they also have arguments to back their statements).

A very interesting idea that I stumbled upon is that at a time when genies were popular in our culture, they used to spring out of lamps everywhere; when fairies were written about, people spoke of having encountered them; and now, that aliens are shown in movies, people are actually abducted by them (Ghosts seem to have a timeless quality).

Fact is, before the possibility of the existence of such creatures was made known to the general public, no one had claimed to be forcibly spirited away by them. Once such possibilities were discussed, evidences seemed to spring out of nowhere (It's another matter that none of these evidences could withstand scientific tests).

One would have thought that there was enough food for humour in all of this, as it were, but there's more. People who believe they have gone through such experiences need some kind of help out of their situation (why they got into it in the first place is something that still beats me). And these days there's help for almost anything, as any psychiatrist might be pleased to inform you. Trouble is, instead of jostling the clients out of their dream state, the psychiatrists themselves start indulging their dreams. If that doesn't confound all...

The patient is now more sure than before that he has not been hallucinating or any such thing. The psychiatrist now tries to glean information from him, information that may help him get a fairer idea of the alien's whereabouts. I must admit that I was dumbstruck to learn this; that people who are supposed to help the victims should actually play with their emotions.

After all, if the healer himself catches the malady, who is to save them? I don't know...



posted by Sylvia D'souza at 1:46 pm 0 comments

 
I'm not one for Jokes, but was tickled by these funny epitaphs !

***

On a hypochondriac's grave:

See. I told you

I was SICK !

Littleton, Colorado

***

Effie Jean Robinson

1897-1922

Come blooming youths, as you pass by ,

And on these lines do cast an eye.

As you are now, so once was I;

As low as I, you once must be,

Prepare for death and follow me.

Underneath, someone had added:

To follow you

I am not content,

How do I know

Which way you went.

There's more where these came from ..............


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 6:14 pm 0 comments

 
"... tolerance, regardless of it's humble facade, assumes a position of superiority. If I tolerate you then you are the one who needs tolerating, not me...Perhaps G.K. Chesterson was right when he said, "Tolerance is the virtue of the man with no convictions." What self-respecting individual wants to be tolerated?..."

Came across this article, Bound for Freedom, quite by accident. Though there are many things in it that I don't agree with, it certainly made me think. I have never thought about what the word "tolerance" means, and now that I do, I realise I'm not too sure. I thought it was a mix of patience and understanding, and yet I wonder if there is something to be said for the above point of view.

I think I would vastly prefer passionate disagreement, to tolerance. When a person disagrees with me, he treats me as an equal, he respects me as a person entitled to hold his own views. But someone who is merely tolerant of my opinions, as the quote puts it, assumes a position of superiority and righteousness, without actually having proved that he deserves it.

I don't know; I suppose there are many different aspects to tolerance.....but this one is also well worth considering.....
posted by Sylvia D'souza at 6:41 pm 0 comments