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!

 
Am in a biggg hurry! Leaving for Mangalore in two hours, planning to spend this Christmas there!

More of a out-of-the-blue arrangement than anything else; a friend suggested (drilled might be a better word :p) it to me and I was immediately hooked. Well...not immediately, but on deeper thought (aadat se majboor!). My project at work was about to end, I could do with a break and ...I missed Mangalore.

This will be the first time I'll be spending Christmas in Mangalore. The only thing am dreading is, that I have only a week there and more than two dozen close relatives and all of them quite the sort to say "she went to see so and so, but couldn't spare time to see us". Apart from these minor unavoidables, am looking forward to enjoying myself.

Here's wishing everyone a Very Happy Christmas in advance!! :)


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 11:05 am 0 comments

 
Accidentally stumbled upon a piece of musing on a blog, and got that very same feeling that you get when someone echoes your deeply-felt thoughts. Strangely, the post is titled “To be or not to be”!


“…Is it just me, or have I suddenly been caught up in a time frame whereby every single person around me is suddenly getting married? And the thing I noticed the most today, from the conversation is the notion of getting married just for the sake of getting married. Do people just want the most general things in life, security, a home and financial satisfaction and is the notion of an ideal love just slipping away from us. Its like, a notion which seemed so ideal once upon a time, but nowadays I think wealth and feeling safe override it. The whole 'having someone', it doesn't really matter who, but someone is just so apparent almost everywhere I look.

"What about the whole, taking time and effort to build something worthy, and satisfying in the long run. Someone you want to run under a waterfall with, someone you want to climb up a mountain with and share the view at the top, that someone you want to write a letter to on a rainy gloomy day, because just knowing, just knowing that someone will read it, makes that day that little less gloomy, and that little bit better. I think my standards in life are way too high, I think I need to glance around me, and try to fit in with what I see better. For real. Your young, you have your whole life to love, and even when you find it, who knows if its real..until you let it free and maybe just maybe it comes back to you...or can you really picture growing old with someone. Sitting out there in your back garden, on your deck chairs watching the green grass with that little cup of tea, a nice book and talking about how quickly your grandchildren are growing up.”

posted by Sylvia D'souza at 11:19 am 0 comments

 
Have you ever been in a situation where you were overwhelmed with the feeling of being wronged, you wanted to blurt out all those words bursting in your heart, but at that moment, you just couldn't utter a word? hmm...happens to me.

I've tried to probe into why I become so tongue-tied when most I need to loosen it. At any other time, I could challenge the best of brains at an argument and have no qualms about winning. But at these times, something happens to me.

...I'm afraid I shall say something very harsh and hurt the other person. It is not altogether a selfless motive, let me tell you. I'm afraid I shall hurt the other person so much that I shall lose them. I look for words, search for words...that might not sound too hurting and yet convey my thoughts...but in the process, the meaning is either distorted, or lost; or nothing comes out at all, and am still searching...


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 8:52 am 0 comments

 
Away, away, from men and towns,
To the wild wood and the downs—
To the silent wilderness
Where the soul need not repress
Its music lest it should not find
An echo in another's mind

-- Percy Bysshe Shelley


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 8:28 pm 0 comments

 
Reading Clarissa by Richardson. It is all of four volumes of which I have just finished two. It will add to the list of my favourite books, but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone, that is, anyone who reads a book for its story.

What I love most about Clarissa is its beauty of expression. Even the most simplest of words strung together with this author's pen must sound like a sweet melody. And another thing, the medium of expression. The entire book is comprised of letters, letters written to and from the various characters. The drama unfolds before us through these letters.

The theme of the book is essentially, the triumph of virtue (a rather archaic definition of virtue, but one must make allowances for the period to which the author belongs).

I would have liked to share some beautiful passages from it here, but without a general understanding of the context, they would not hold the same merit. Let me then share a line and a poem that I found interesting, and which do not need any particular reference.

The line (couldn't find it again, so quoting from memory) --

"A man is a woman's sun and a woman is a man's earth."

I won't give my own comments on it here, but would love to hear the readers' interpretations!

And the poem --

It is Resistance that inflames desire
Sharpens the darts of love, and blows its fire.
Love is disarm'd that meets with too much ease
He languishes, and does not care to please.


(The archives on my blog had for some time disappeared (where to, I can't say, not being a geek or even close to one :( ) and try as I might, couldn't get them back. Praise be to Codelust, they're back again! Many many thanks to him! :) )


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 10:06 pm 0 comments

 
Back from the trip last week!

Had been to Bangalore for the first time, and I must say, I loved it so well, it will certainly not be the last time!

From all that I had heard, I was prepared to love the city. In my mind's eye I imagined a place that was not as undeveloped as Mangalore, and yet, not as overdeveloped as Bombay either. Other than that, I also expected it to have that greenery and natural advantages that Mangalore has, without the lack of, things to do and places to be that Bombay boasts of.

In one word, I found it was everything I expected it to be.

In four days I couldn't have seen a lot, am sure there was much left to be seen, but the little that I did see has left me with a sense of great pleasure.

I was surprised not to find people everywhere speaking in Kannada. This was something unexpected. Here too, it brought to mind Bombay, where no body would hear a word of Marathi, though it be in Maharashtra.

Another thing I noticed was the crowding of 2 wheelers everywhere. The traffic of course could not daunt me after having been in the busiest city, but the components thereof were different. Even whole families were paraded on two wheelers, to my surprise.

One other thing, and this I lament, was that come 10.00 p.m. and the city was as good as dead. Few people about and fewer vehicles. This kind of silence I am not accustomed to at even the midnight hour in Bombay (not that am often out at that time!), so more the surprise.

I would have liked to describe my impression of all the common and not so common sights there in great detail, but that would take up too much space, apart from the sad fact that am not a great one at such descriptions. I tend to be too factual. If you asked me to describe a peacock, I would say it's a beautiful bird, and not much help it would be to one who hasn't see one. Since I cannot do justice, I shall not make the attempt. Let me run briskly over the common, the uncommon (to me, that is), shall try to expound on a bit further.

Of an evening, we went to M.G Road and Brigade Road. It was a sight, not so much exciting to me perhaps, as I have seen bigger crowds and bigger shops (one can't help it here), with people as big and small as loitered and milled around, but it was indeed something. You could almost feel that you were in the heart of the city. Bombay, alas, has too many hearts.

Brings to mind another observation. I had the general feeling that Bangalore is full of young people. It is possible that the places I went to, were more frequented by younger people, but so I felt.

Commercial Street, in the afternoon, was not as crowded as I am told it generally is. I had intended to buy some trinkets for the folks home, but nothing that couldn't to be got here, was to be got there. In the end, I decided on some fancy key chains. One a wooden fish design and another a metal dagger one. Both seemed unusual enough, and luckily, everybody here liked them.

On my last day we went to Lalbagh (botanical) gardens. I had been expecting something like our Bombay walla parks, and so wasn't over keen for the visit, but it turned out much different.

Reminds me of another thing I forgot to mention, and perhaps the best about Bangalore, as everybody asserts to me. The weather there is not a deterrent, very far from it. Especially, in the afternoon, the sun seems to have better things to do.

Our visit to the gardens, however, ended not so nicely, with the rain descending without a warning. But it went as soon as it came, and we were none the worse for being a trifle wet.

Then there was this lovely temple, behind a great shopping mall (Kemp Fort, if I’m not mistaken?!). I found it a little strange to come upon a huge likeness of a God, with equally real likenesses of mountains surrounding, in the backyard of a commercial complex, so to speak. It took me a moment to realize what it was, I was so dumbstruck. But maybe the astonishment was what lent it its charm, positioned as it is. I rather doubt I should have liked it half as much, if I were expecting there to be a temple. The crowd again was a sight, but a different one from the M.G Road, Brigade Road crowd.

I've run on quite a bit about the common, now to the uncommon...

I had never before been to a pub in my life, though I had my own impressions of how pubs are, gathered from here and there. The 13th Floor, Barton Centre, was therefore a pleasant surprise. I was later told that it is not your regular kind of pub, which perhaps accounts for my surprise.

We sat on these high chairs (don't know what they're called), at the edge of the terrace, with virtually the whole of Bangalore spread before us. It is difficult to describe how exactly I felt then, how enchanted with everything before me and around me...one of the best memories I carry with me, and would have been "the best" if there weren't others that contend equally. The open night sky, the lighted horizon, the soothing music, the lovely breeze ---everything only add to the magic -- and if these ingredients weren't enough, the rain too decided to bless us at that moment. An artificial roof was pulled over and we had the added delight of watching the rain sprinkle over the city.

I generally tend to forget names and features of food stuffs (strange, considering my memory is not so weak in most matters), but it will be a long time before I forget the name of the drink I had there. Flush Kleen!! Not a very appetizing name, I'll agree, but must say it is no reflection on the drink. A sweet mix of fruit juices (which fruits I forget, just like me :( )

Another remarkable experience....Infinitea.

At first entrance it resembled Barista, except that Barista's strike me as orange, and this one was sea-green. Taking my place, I had occasion to look around, and found a general aspect of elegance and quaintness that much appealed to my tastes.

I was asked to order something, and being no connoisseur in these matters, decided on something that had a nice ring to it (lest it be wondered at, let me clarify that the last drink was not ordered on the strength of its name!). It was a tea with a flavour of a certain fruit (which fruit, am again at a loss to recollect :( ).

After a few minutes, a contraption was brought to our table. In a pot of water (I presume), the tea bag was dipped in. An hour glass was laid aside and we were asked to mind it, and have the tea when the sand emptied fully into its lower portion. I had known that the preparation of tea was more complicated business than mixing water, tea leaves, sugar and milk at random, but this was seeing it! and I loved it...

A Chapel turned into a Barista. This was something else I had been asked to look forward to, and it did answer my curiosity. There was the old time charm I would have associated with such a place, with everything modern in it. The walls had a ragged stone finish, intriguing carvings gracing them. Sitting there, basking in the atmosphere, was something delightful...

I realise I have written a lot, and still there was so much more I would have written. Maybe another day, another time….as am sure it will not be very long before I shall want to say again, "Bangalore, here I come!"


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 9:30 am 0 comments

 
Quite some time back I had written about intending to read a book, "Conquest of Happiness" by Bertrand Russell. Took my own sweet time over it; firstly because the opening few pages did not encourage me to read further, and second, some books are to be chewed and not just tasted.

There are quite a few ideas in it that I would have liked to share -- some that I agreed with and some that I did not. For the present, let me take up one.

Here’s an extract –

“A woman who nevertheless does take the plunge (marriage) finds herself, as compared with the women of former generations, confronted with a new and appalling problem, namely, the paucity and bad quality of domestic service. In consequence of this, she becomes tied to her house, compelled to perform herself a thousand trivial tasks quite unworthy of her ability and training, or, if she does not perform them herself, to ruin her temper by scolding the maids who neglect them.

In regard to the physical care of her children, if she has taken pains to become well-informed in this matter, she finds that it is impossible, without grave risk of disaster, to entrust the children to nurses, or even to leave to others the most elementary precautions in regard to cleanliness and hygiene unless she can afford a nurse who has had an extensive training at some institute. Weighed down by a mass of trivial detail, she is fortunate indeed if she does not soon lose all her charm and three-quarters of her intelligence.

Too often through the mere performance of necessary duties such women become wearisome to their husbands and a nuisance to their children. When the evening comes and her husband returns from his work, the woman who talks about her day time troubles is a bore, and the woman who does not is absent-minded.

In relation to her children, the sacrifices she has made in order to have them are so present to her mind that she is almost sure to demand more reward than it is desirable to expect, while the constant habit of attending to trivial details will have made her fussy and small minded.

This is the most pernicious of all injustices that she has to suffer; that in consequence of doing her duty by her family she has lost their affection, whereas, if she had neglected them and remained gay and charming, they would probably have loved her.”


…The truth of the last paragraph particularly struck me, especially as I could relate it to the way I have felt about my own mother. There are times when I have found myself feeling guilty with the thought of how much she must have sacrificed to bring us up…and the consequent thought of how little I seem to value her sacrifices. I have also felt angry and wished she would have lived her life for her own self as much as for her children. I have felt sad...maybe as a mother feels happy when she knows her children are happy…even the children feel happier with the knowledge that their parents are happy and by depriving themselves of happiness for our sake…how can they expect to see us happy?

Had written a poem a very long time ago, at a critical moment…when I was particularly sensible of all that my mother had done for me…

An unhappier daughter never ever lived
Who loved her mother but did not know until

Things went very much out of hand
And life had taken a deadly stand

Her thoughts would fly to the days gone by
When never a day went her mother didn’t sigh

Problems and troubles were her closest mates
Her daughter had hardly any time to waste

To see her mother toil morn, noon and night
Her heart grew heavy, but beat alright.


…In other news, I am planning a small trip southwards in the coming week. Very much looking forward to it! Till then! :)


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 9:40 pm 0 comments

 
Have very little time these days to maintain the blog the way I used to; so visitors here are requested to excuse me for the silences now and then. :(

Sometime back came across a quote by Lichtenberger --

"When a head and a book come into collision and one sounds hollow, is it always the book?"

hmm!

What I wonder about is, who is the one to decide if it is the head or the book?


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 12:48 am 0 comments

 
sweet words...

Is this a fancy which our reason scorns?
Ah! surely nothing dies but something mourns!

--Byron.
posted by Sylvia D'souza at 1:17 am 0 comments

 
Don't remember taking such a long break from my blog before, but it was a forced one and not willful. Glad to be back again! :)

As it may have been noticed, my favourite way of introducing a thought is by mentioning a quote…so here it is:-

"Anybody can sympathise with the sufferings of a friend, but it requires a very fine nature to sympathise with a friend's success."
--Oscar Wilde.

I have for sometime wondered upon the generally accepted theory that a friend in sadness, is a true friend. It seems to me that it does not take much to comfort or sympathise with a friend in his sadness. It is a situation where you have shoes on your feet and you tell your fellow traveller (friend) who has no shoes on, that "It is okay. It is fine. Not to worry. It won't hurt after sometime." I'm not at all implying that the words spoken to ease the distress of a friend are not genuine or that they are meaningless; only that, such words do not require much effort on the part of the speaker. Or, to take it a step further, they cannot be used as a measure to test the affections of the speaker towards the friend.

On the other hand, I would say that a friend, who is a friend in happiness, is more closer to being a true friend. I would call it a better test of friendship. Take the same situation. You do not have shoes on your feet, but your fellow traveller (friend) has just got new shoes. Does it not require an effort on your part to be happy for him? Does it not require an effort on your part to rise above your own sorrow, your own sadness, your jealousy over the friend's good fortune, to actually feel happy and express your happiness to him? Isn't it a much greater proof of your friendship that even though you do not have what he has, even though you may never have what he has, you can yet feel happy in his happiness, you can yet think of his happiness as your own?

Maybe, it is easier for us to comfort people when they're sad because a part of us is relieved that it is not we who are in their position, and it is harder for us to rejoice when people are happy, because a part of us wishes we were in their position. Just a thought, don't know!


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 11:45 pm 0 comments

 
Was following a discussion in the comments box of a fellow blogger's site, when a particular comment by TYrannosaurus Rex arrested my attention. It couldn't have reflected better my own sentiments. (Interestingly, I've noticed that when we say we admire a person's thought, we admire it not so much because it presents something new to us, but because it confirms a belief or opinion of our own!)

Comment:

"if you push along with reason (or that which stands to it ) people do feel that they are being coerced into adopting a position which asks them to negate their stated positions.....which is a mistaken assumption/inference.....
its just that one is taking the dialogue deeper......but they are not willing to go that far...irony is (and often a cause for ill-feeling ) that instead of saying that they are a little insecure at keeping their "beliefs" in purgatory for the sake of examining them - they loop out by saying that each is entitled to his own .....which if you look at it deeper....is another way of saying that they are unwilling to try and understand what is different from what is familiar and comfortable to them..."


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 12:15 am 0 comments

 
Had taken to reading Persuasion (Jane Austen) in the spare time I had in office. Came across an interesting dialogue between two characters, pertaining to the constancy of attachments.



Poor Fanny! she would not have forgotten him so soon!'
`No,' replied Anne, in a low, feeling voice. `That I can easily believe.'
`It was not in her nature. She doted on him.'
`It would not be the nature of any woman who truly loved.'
Captain Harville smiled, as much as to say, `Do you claim that for your
sex?' and she answered the question, smiling also, `Yes. We certainly do
not forget you as soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather
than our merit. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet,
confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You
have always a profession, pursuits, business of some sort or other, to
take you back into the world immediately, and continual occupation and
change soon weaken impressions.'
`Granting your assertion that the world does all this so soon for men
(which, however, I do not think I shall grant), it does not apply to Captain
Benwick. He has not been forced upon any exertion. The peace turned him on
shore at the very moment, and he has been living with us, in our little
family circle, ever since.'
`True,' said Anne, `very true; I did not recollect; but what shall we say
now, Captain Harville? If the change be not from outward circumstances, it
must be from within; it must be nature, man's nature, which has done the
business for Captain Benwick.'
`No, no, it is not man's nature. I will not allow it to be more man's
nature than woman's to be inconstant and forget those they do love, or
have loved.’

--------------------------

`Ah!' cried Captain Harville, in a tone of strong feeling, `if I could but
make you comprehend what a man suffers …. I speak, you know, only of
such men as have hearts!' pressing his own with emotion.
Oh!' cried Anne eagerly, `I hope I do justice to all that is felt by you,
and by those who resemble you. God forbid that I should undervalue the
warm and faithful feelings of any of my fellow-creatures! I should deserve
utter contempt if I dared to suppose that true attachment and constancy
were known only by woman. No, I believe you capable of everything great
and good in your married lives. I believe you equal to every important
exertion, and to every domestic forbearance, so long as - if I may be
allowed the expression - so long as you have an object. I mean while the
woman you love lives, and lives for you. All the privilege I claim for my
own sex (it is not a very enviable one; you need not covet it), is that of
loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.'


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 1:30 am 0 comments

 
The love of learning, the sequestered nooks,
And all the sweet serenity of books.
--H.W. Longfellow

Ever since I left college, it has been hard to find the time and inclination to read; perhaps inclination would be a wrong word, something akin to energy. A day's work and all I feel like doing is hiding my head among the pillows and dozing off. Music does not seem so bad either. The television would have been a good diversion, if the folks at home didn't care so much about the regular goings-on in the Saas-Bahu soaps. Those are quite competent to give you a headache, as I've had the pleasure of experiencing first hand, when I ventured out in hopes of company.

Well! the good news is, things have changed a bit. Now that I have an extra day in a week (saturday) all to myself, I decided to make the best use of it: books!

Joined the British Council Library last week. I had long wished to join it but never so much as now. I had no idea what book I would take up when I went there (except for the Conquest of Happiness by Bertrand Russel which a dear friend had strictly instructed me to read before anything else) and nor is it a habit with me to go with a pre-planned objective when I visit a library (a departure from the way I usually operate), but once there, maybe it was more than natural that I should gravitate towards the very familiar name of Jane Austen.

I have never felt more sad than with the thought that she should have written so few books in her lifetime; all of which I have read, except for Persuasion. Going through the shelf, my eye was constantly searching for some book I might have fortunately missed (I was told that Persuasion wasn't available). Came upon Jane Austen's Letters. A thick volume indeed. It wasn't a novel proper, but a collection of personal correspondence, compiled together along with additional notes. I do not know if people enjoy reading letters purely for their literary value, but I certainly do; and I had read enough of Jane Austen to expect more than enough of it in them.

Much as I had hoped from the book and warned though I was at the outset that the book was found wanting even by idolaters of Jane Austen, I did not expect it to be disappointing. But so it was. There are several excuses for it and I accept them all. Most of the letters are between the two sisters: Jane and Cassandra. So the letters are filled with daily gossip, mundane details and everyday matters. Nothing to interest, still less to excite. The language used is very casual (how else does one address one's sister?) and most references of names and places are hard to relate (even with the help of foot-notes). Letters written in more formal instances (to publishers, etc) sparkle with the same wit and charm customary of Jane Austen, but these are few and far between.

I was unhappy, true, but it had more to do with the fact that I had thought I had discovered a new gem and again realised there weren't any left. My admiration for her certainly hasn’t dimmed a whit.

Anyway, shall be visiting the library next week now. Intend to find something on poetry. Readers beware, tough times ahead! :p


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 1:39 am 0 comments

 
The apparent connection between madness and genius has always intrigued me; so also the personalities of great men, who seem to have more than a little in common. Came across a few thoughts by the noted philospoher, Schopenhauer --

"Genius holds up to us the magic glass in which all that is essential and significant appears to us collected and placed in the clearest light, and what is accidental and foreign is left out." Thought pierces through passion as sunlight pours through a cloud, and reveals the heart of things;…The secret of genius, lies in the clear and impartial perception of the objective, the essential and the universal.

It is this removal of the personal equation which leaves the genius so maladapted in the world of wil-ful, practical, personal activity. By seeing so far he does not see what is near; he is imprudent and "queer"; and while his vision is hitched to a star he falls into a well. Hence, partly, the unsociability of the genius; "he is thinking of the fundamental, the universal, the eternal; others are thinking of the temporary, the specific, the immediate; his mind and theirs have no common ground, and never meet." The man of genius has his compensations, and does not need company so much as people who live in perpetual dependence on what is outside them. "The pleasure which he receives from all beauty, the consolations which art affords, the enthusiasm of the artists, . . . enable him to forget the cares of life," and "repay him for the suffering that increases in proportion to the clearness of consciousness, and for his desert loneliness among a different race of men."

The result, however, is that the genius is forced into isolation, and sometimes into madness; the extreme sensitiveness which brings him pain along with imagination and intuition, combines with solitude and maladaptation to break the bonds that hold the mind to reality. Aristotle was right again: "Men distinguished in philosophy, politics, poetry or art appear to be all of a melancholy temperament." The direct connection of madness and genius "is established by the biographies of great men, such as Rousseau, Byron, Alfieri, etc." By a diligent search in lunatic asylums, I have found individual cases of patients who were unquestionably endowed with great talents, and whose genius distinctly appeared through their madness.

Yet in these semi-madmen, these geniuses, lies the true aristocracy of mankind. "With regard to the intellect, nature is highly aristocratic. The distinctions which it has established are greater than those which are made in any country by birth, rank, wealth, or caste." Nature gives genius only to a few because such a temperament would be a hindrance in the normal pursuits of life, which require concentration on the specific and the immediate.


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 11:49 pm 0 comments

 
I love Shayari. Have done so since the days of Doordarshan, when Mushairas and Shayari sessions used to be shown quite commonly on TV, late in the night. It used to be fun watching the old men recite verses in their Urdu accents, and every now and then going "Arz Hai", Irshaad"...I would pick up words and hints and though I was no good at mimickry, I loved imagining myself as one of the oldies, and would cook up my own toota-phoota sher-o-shayari...

Sadly (for some) and happily (for me), this curious infatuation stayed with me. The people who get to know me eventually get to hear my shayari, that too without warning, poor things!

One can only imagine how it must be when the Shayari enthusiast in me meets a willing victim in the form of another Shayari enthusiast (that I am subjected to the same torture, is another matter altogther!). A friend of mine, whom I fondly call King, is as besotted as me...and many are the days when we used to chat in Sher-o-Shayari lingo. I would come up with a Sher and to counter it, he would come up with a gem of his own. Let me present one of his best ones here --

"Woh ilzaam par ilzaam lagaye jaa rahe hain
Hum Majnu nahin fir bhi sau baar katl hue ja rahe hain"

After the customary Waah Waah, I had to admit to him in Anil Kapoor ishtyle, Chipkaich Daala!!

.........I would not have thought of writing about my love of Shayari, but for a funny happening. I suddenly awoke from sleep and lo! have these two lines in my head. Where they came from, I'll never know!

Kitnehi zakhm diye tune, ae parwane
Fir bhi shama bass jalti rahi...

Must be the ever ambitious shayar in me upto its old tricks!


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 10:47 pm 0 comments

 
I am not one for change and still less, one to seek change. If it were up to me, I would grapple to my soul all the things that are familiar and dear to me...but as someone said, "Change is the only constant in an inconstant world". And right now, I am on the verge of one; for the better or worse, maybe only time can tell.

I shall soon be leaving my present employment to join a new company. It has been a very pleasurable journey, from the time I first came here, to now, when I have to move on. The best part has been the opportunity I had to mingle with the best of people.

The one person (whom I cannot but mention), who not only tried to mould me, but also tried to instill in me, a belief in myself and in my capabilities, is my dear boss, Ashok. Incidentally, he is also the person who first inspired me to start this blog. For this and many other reasons; for the countless occasions where I was conscious of his kindness (which am sure I ill-deserved), I shall be largely indebted to him. I like to think that I shall have lost a colleague, but gained a friend in the process. I do hope so. In any case, am happier and indeed richer, for having known someone as special as him.

I once wrote as a comment in a fellow blogger's site, that no matter what the changes in one's life, there have to be some things that one can always depend on. It is the same as saying that no matter the number of places that you travel to, there has to be one place where you know you can come back to, and which you can call as Home.

One can enjoy the adventure, excitement, unpredictability of the sea so much better, when there is the stability, security and consistency of earth to return to -- or so I feel. In the midst of a sea of change in my life, I am yet glad...as I have these rocks to fall back on...and it is their support which makes me view the future with so much more of positiveness and so much less of trepidation....

...A bit late in the day, but to wind up, here's Wishing everyone a Very Happy Easter!! :)


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 12:16 am 0 comments

 
People say "Dreams don't come true"
that they're wrong, I have now proof
Each special moment I spent with you
Was nothing but a dream, so unreal- yet so true.


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 9:09 am 0 comments

 
Where there is life, there is hope...
But when fate is always against you, what is the scope?

It's a very long time since i wrote these words...but very rarely have I had occasion to forget them.

I am not more superstitious than most, indeed I value very few qualities as much as a scientific temper, but there are times when I have to admit to myself, inspite of myself, that there is something called Fate. And as we humans are prone to consider our own sorrows as greater than anyone else's, I too can't help feeling that this imaginary creature called fate, for some reason known only to itself, has a peculiar grudge against me.

-----------------

Wrote these lines yesterday in a Murphy ("If anything can go wrong, it will") mood, but was unable to post them -- and a good thing too -- tomorrow has been another day!! :)

Where there is life, there is indeed hope...
At the worst of times, you have it in you to cope!


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 12:38 am 0 comments

 
Knowledge may give weight, but accomplishments give lustre, and many more people see than weigh.
-- Earl of Chesterfield.

more's the pity....
posted by Sylvia D'souza at 5:41 pm 0 comments

 
Lovely Sonnet ......


BEING your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are how happy you make those!
So true a fool is love, that in your Will,
Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.

William Shakespeare.


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 8:54 pm 0 comments

 
14th Feb...

Have heard so much about the controversies surrounding the celebration of this day; let me give my own understanding of the matter.

I for one have nothing against people celebrating their love for each other on this day. The argument I have come across most often is that those who are in love or have affection for each other, do not need a day to express it. They can express it anyday and everyday. True. I would wholeheartedly agree. Neither would anyone stop any others from expressing themselves on other days of the year. But in the same breath, I should also like to know, why do we celebrate any occasion at all, on one particular day? Why don't we celebrate Christmas everyday, surely we should be able to express our love for God everyday of the year, and rejoice, everyday of the year? Why do we celebrate Independence Day on the 15th August, surely we're happy to be free everyday of the year? Why can't we celebrate it everyday then? Why don't we celebrate our birthday every day of the year - surely everyday that we are alive gives us a fresh occasion to celebrate?

The reason, it seems to me, is not that we are immune to these feelings on other days of the year, not that we forget about Christ or about Independence or the miracle of our own birth, on other days of the year; but that we choose one day to come together in a spirit of celebration and make merry over it.

What day we choose to do so or whether we choose a particular day at all, is beside the point. It is just that, humans as we are, we cannot have enough reasons to be happy, to be merry -- and since we cannot be so everyday of our lives --we choose particular days, particular occasions. Sometimes I wonder how our lives would have been if there were no Christmases, no Diwalis, no New Years, no Ids...I cannot even envision such or maybe it is an impossible scenario, for if we had none of these festivals, we would have invented others. Just as we invented Valentine's day. I do know there is a history behind this day, but one that is so far removed from its present day connotations that it is almost indistinguishable.

Another objection to these celebrations that I've heard oft-repeated is the "crass commercialisation" that centers around them. The cards and chocolates and flowers that get sold by the truckloads. Well! No one ever heard of not celebrating Christmas because people were making money by selling Christmas trees; no one ever made any noise over sweetshops making double the profits during Diwali! Does the commercialisation of an event tell against the event or against the growing materialistic tendencies of society in general? Will stopping the celebration of this event in any way effect a change in the values of businesses? If it did, then maybe we should.

People may have their own reasons for celebrating this day (and what better reason than that it makes them happy!) and people may have their own reasons for choosing not to (and am sure very valid too)...I certainly do not believe that people should celebrate something they do not believe in celebrating, but I also wouldn't understand, if they should impose their belief on those who do wish to...

Anyway, to put an end to my arguments and get down to the point:- Here's wishing everyone a very Happy Valentine's Day!!


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 9:38 am 0 comments

 
A sweet friend of mine said to me --

"Are friends for real, I wonder aloud
Or just those beings, that pass like a cloud!"

It took a moment before i realised -- those were my own words; part of a collection of a few poems that I had shared with him a while ago.

hmm...How experiences change perceptions! What only seems a hollow emotion, upon experience, surprises us with depth and what seems an impossibility, upon experience, gains the stamp of truth.

I never had what everyone seemed to have and what I would have given anything to have: A Best Friend. It was very rarely that I came upon people of my own wavelength, maybe because it was not in my nature to actively seek out people or maybe it was just plain luck. But those times that I did come upon such, the small ever-persistent negative voice inside me would whisper that maybe he or she already is someone's best friend. The idea that someone's best friend could also be my best friend either didn't penetrate me or perhaps I looked at it from my own rigid point of view. There could only be one best and not two.

As time passed, I resigned myself to the thought that such a deep friendship was not written for me. Arrogantly, I would also tell myself that this is someone's loss, not mine. For all that, it never diminished the hurt I felt when I thought I had so much to give, so much to share...but no one to whom my soul could so respond to. I did not lack friends, I wanted a Best Friend.

I had once written about my inability to believe in God. I don't, true, for all the logical reasons. But when I ask my heart and it shows me the picture of someone, who at the most unexpected of times and unlikeliest of ways came into my life and went on to become my best friend, am more than inclined to.

I cannot think of it as anything short of a miracle that one of my dearest of wishes should come true, a wish not only of a best friend, but of one who would be everything to me that I wanted my best friend to be.

Those days when I used to yearn for a best friend, seem so far away now and those words I used to comfort myself with, that "you're your own best friend", so untrue! I've now experienced the friendship I had only once dreamed about, and am so happy to say, friends are indeed real.....there's just no doubt!


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 1:47 am 0 comments

 
Yesterday was my special day. One that comes every year in the life of every person. I wanted to describe all the things that made it so very special, but when the heart is full, the words don't come or it may just be that an additional year has made me more lazy (if that is possible!) and my brains rusty (assuming there was material).

All in all, I loved this day and though my heart grows sad thinking of the years passing by, it is also happy, that there are so many memories to enjoy.


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 1:23 am 0 comments

 
Ven you're a married man, Samivel, you'll understand a good many things as you don't understand now; but vether it's worthwhile, goin' through so much, to learn so little, as the charity-boy said ven he got to the end of the alphabet, is a matter o' taste.

Mr. Weller, in The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens.


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 9:27 am 0 comments

 
Why is it so difficult to make a decision? Why cannot you tell the mind, I've decided and this is it. Why does it keep going over the choices, exploring, analysing, sifting through the pros and cons? Or does it happen only to me?

I would like to share the following poem by Shakespeare, that is the inspiration behind my blog name and which also reflects my current state of mind (or emotions?)...incidentally it's also a year since I first created my blog and if there is one thing I count as the happiest of things that could have happened to me in the last year...I owe that thing to my blog.

To be, or not to be, that is the question:-
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune;
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And, by opposing, end them?


posted by Sylvia D'souza at 12:21 am 0 comments