The Daily Post Photo Challenge : Wish

Shinto is the dominant religion in Japan, though it is more of a way of life than a way to worship.Visitors to Shinto shrines can purchase small wooden plaques called ema, upon which they can share their hopes and dreams. Then, they hang them amongst other ema from people who have come before them, in the hopes that spirits will grant their wish This week, show us a wish.

“World without hatred

And violence of all kinds

A wish we all wish.

Quiet and a serene life

A wish that is but a dream.”

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The serene waters of the lake in our place makes me wish that life everywhere could be as serene. A dream, no doubt, but we can always wish.

The Daily Post Photo Challenge : Wish

 

 

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The Daily Prompt : Chaos

Reading in the newspapers
About violence
Here, there and everywhere.
And then about
The destruction of
Nature’s resources
For the never ending
Greed of man.
To make matters worse
Politicians who are
A class into themselves
And live for power and wealth,
Are bent upon
Making money for generations.
It seems as if there is
Chaos across the world.
But there must be
Something good everywhere,
Life goes on
With all its ups and downs.
There is always
The good,the bad and ugly.
In spite of everything,
It is good to believe
There is not enough
Darkness in the world
To extinguish the
Light of a small candle.

IMG_20160508_062147.jpg

 

#SoCS August 17/19

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “co-” Find a word that uses “co” as a prefix and use it in your post. Have fun!

The first thought that came to mind when I read the prompt was our Co-operative society.  We have bought our groceries from there since 1982 when we got married.  I think this society was started in the 1960s. Ration card holders get their rice and other items at subsidised rates here. Many years ago we got sugar and rice and wheat here as we were eligible to get them due to our ration card. We stopped getting it as we were no longer eligible to get them.

But we have continued to buy our daily needs from the shop. There is a one to one relationship with the the manager and the assistants there. We stop to talk to them while they pack pur groceries.  And that is missing in malls and other big supermarkets. There is a mall in the next town. We went there just once some years ago. There are two small supermarkets in our place but we hardly go there.

I feel malls are there in all parts of the country and they do good business but the small shops are there only in one place. If people stop giving them business they might have to close down. And this has been happening in many places.  So we have decided to buy our groceries from our Co-operative society.

 

 

 

The Man (Sunday Photo fiction)

Nisha looked at the prisoner in the dock with a puzzled expression. She was sure she had seen him somewhere. She just could not recollect where she had done so. She was a law student. She and her classmates were in the court observing the proceedings of the case. They had been told to report their observations and how the lawyers had argued for and against the convict.

They knew that he was a serial killer who had killed many women in different parts of the state. This had gone on for more than a year. The police department had followed many leads but had been unsuccessful for months. The man had become more and more confident. He thought the police were fools and that led him to make a very serious mistake. Fortunately, the police noticed it and caught him before he could kill his next victim.

Nisha saw the convict looking at her and realization came with a flash. Last week she had been drinking coffee in small roadside stall and a man sitting nearby had been sketching in his notebook. She now knew that he had intended her to be  his next victim.

(196 words)

coffee-shop-1.jpg Morguefile

Photo credit : Morguefile

Everyday Moments (#SOL- 2019)

slice-of-life_individual

I first came across the Slice of life some time in 2017 and it has become a very nice part of my life. I like reading the slices by bloggers from different parts of the world. Our everyday moments everywhere are not very different. These moments make our life what it is. I started writing to my Doddamma, my father’s elder brother’s wife in October 2017. She is 88 and is not able to hear properly if I telephone to talk to her. So, I write to her. Both of us enjoy the letters. I post my letter to her to her every week. I edit the letters and post them as Slice of Life every Tuesday.

13-08-19

It is 3.45 in the afternoon. It has been pouring the whole day. It was pouring whole of last week and we had a short break yesterday. An auto rickshaw driver was telling our son that people are happy that rains are coming now in spite of the difficulties faced by so many because these rains are very important. Without them there would be no water the next year. The water scarcity in June has made people in different parts of our country understand the importance of rain water harvesting.

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On 10th evening our daughter and grandchildren came. My husband and son went to the airport to receive them. They reached Bangalore on the 25th and the grandparents were enjoying the company of the children. On the 9th was Nagarapanchami and our son-in-law’s parents perform pujas to worship the snake Gods. The tradition of worshipping snakes is observed in different parts of our country.

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On the 8th my husband went to Maikuri, our village, to be with his father and brother. He returned 9th evening. When the children he will not be able to go to stay there for the night. Last time he had done so and Advaith had cried and missed him. We will be going next Sunday.

Days are flying and it feels as if the day is not long enough to enjoy all the activities of our grandchildren. Our days begin and end with their activities 😊. They live in Germany. Advaith will start first standard in September. He has his summer vacations now. Kavya is one year and nine months. She will be starting play school in September. They enjoy playing in the rain holding an umbrella. Kavya wants to do all that her brother does. Both dig mud with small spades and enjoy putting them elsewhere.

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Kavya loves the yellow flowers called ‘lambaana’ in Kannada. She likes to hold it. They like to eat dosas with jaggery syrup and the mango jam I had prepared. Advaith had brought a board game similar to monopoly and taught his grandfather the game. We have many ladybird books which our children enjoyed when they were small. My husband is reading out the books to Advaith, he loves listening to them. We are having fun and life is going to be very quiet when they go back.

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Looking at them I am reminded of the summer vacations my brother and I spent in our maternal grandparents’ home. They were fun days and those memories are precious.

Children are the rainbow of life. Grandchildren are the pot of gold. ― Irish Blessing

Naga Panchami – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nag_Panchami

Ladybird Books | Books for Toddlers & Young Children – …
https://www.penguin.co.uk/ladybird

#SoCS August 10/19

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Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “where.” Start your post with the word “where” and write whatever comes to you. Bonus points if you end your post with “where” too. Enjoy!

Where do those black clouds go?’ I wondered as I saw them floating away without a drop of rain falling.

Why do I keep coming back to the subject of rain in my posts? Lack of rains in the beginning and excess rains now has been in our minds right from the first week of June. Then we were worried because the rains had not started on time. Now we are reading about heavy rains and water levels reaching almost to danger level in most of the rivers. Havoc and destruction everywhere near the river sides. Lakhs of people have lost their homes, fields have been submerged and landslides in many places. Where will all the people who have lost their homes go? What will their future be like? It is difficult to imagine. It is raining heavily as I am writing this. In the security of our houses we can enjoy the rain and it does seem unfair that people are suffering so much elsewhere.

Coming back to those dark clouds, looking at them I was reminded of Meghaduta by the great Sanskrit poet, Kalidasa. Meghaduta means the Cloud messenger. A Yaksha ( a nature spirit) who is in exile asks a passing cloud to take a message to his wife who lives in Alaka in Mount Kailasa. The story seems fascinating. I cannot read it in Sanskrit but I have downloaded an English translation and will read it soon.

The working of our mind is so fascinating. One thought leads to another, many a time unrelated but there is a link. Our heart and our mind recognizes that connection. I wonder if that link comes from nowhere or from somewhere.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meghadūta

Yaksha – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yaksha

Mount Kailash – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Kailash

Alaka – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alaka

https://www.deccanherald.com/state/karnataka-floods-eight-killed-over-2-lakh-evacuated-753308.html

 

The Dancer (Sunday Photo Fiction)

Akash came to the stage with a feeling of apprehension, excitement and sadness. He wanted his grandmother to see him dance but his wish was not to be. A few weeks earlier she had collapsed while dancing.

He had always loved to dance. He remembered those days when he used to sit and watch his grandmother practice every day. As a child he had thought of her as a goddess. She was a famous Bharatnatyam danseuse. His father had not been very happy about his interest in dance and done his best to discourage him. His mother had quietly supported him. His grandmother had been his teacher, his strength. Years passed. She taught him all that she knew and encouraged him to learn different dance forms. His art had taken him to different worlds.
He remembered with a smile the days when he and his classmates danced impromptu in the town square. Many had joined them to dance with abandon.

Today was his great day. He was giving his first solo performance. But his grandmother was not there to see him perform. He was sure that she was watching him and that gave him confidence.
His performance was appreciated.
(199 words)

dancer-leap-alexis-ortiz

Photo credit : Alexis Ortiz

Everyday Moments (#SOL- 2019)

slice-of-life_individual
I first came across the Slice of life some time in 2017 and it has become a very nice part of my life. I like reading the slices by bloggers from different parts of the world. Our everyday moments everywhere are not very different. These moments make our life what it is. I started writing to my Doddamma, my father’s elder brother’s wife in October 2017. She is 88 and is not able to hear properly if I telephone to talk to her. So, I write to her. Both of us enjoy the letters. I post my letter to her to her every week. I edit the letters and post them as Slice of Life every Tuesday.

6-08-19
It is eleven in the morning and it is dark and pouring along with thunder and lightning. We were missing it. The weather has changed completely. It has started raining since Sunday afternoon. There was very little rain from Wednesday to Sunday. The sky was so blue that we despaired. Dark clouds gathered but drifted away without rains. I used to wonder where they were going and was reminded of Meghaduta by Kalidasa. It is a poem. I have downloaded and am reading it. Meghaduta literally means Cloud messenger.

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On Sunday we went to Maikuri, our village to be with my father-in-law and brother-in-law. While we were there my husband’s cousin and her husband visited. We told my father-in-law that his niece was coming to see him. He just could not connect. When she came and talked to him he remembered her and was feeling sad that he had not remembered her. We left at four and reached home by 6.30. It was raining at all places on our way back.

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Friday evening we had our Book club meeting in our oldest member’s home. He is 92 years and enjoys reading books. We all talked about the books we had read in the previous month. My mother too came. She loves to read. Next meeting we are planning to talk about how we started reading and about the libraries which played an important part in our lives.

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Last week we went to EndPoint for our evening walk. We like going there. It is a pleasure to see birds in the rain-water pond there. End Point is the one of the ends of the hill. Flowering and fruit trees are growing on either side of the road. There are open spaces and play grounds. We see a lot of cows grazing on the grounds. They are there the whole day and go back home in the evenings. A friend told us many stay there for days together. We followed a young bull. When he was near the ground he called out and one of the cows came running towards him and there was a happy reunion😊.

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On the 2nd a close relative and his wife came for lunch. Our relationship goes back to my grandfather’s days. We are like family. They wanted to see my mother and called on Saturday. We asked them to come for lunch. I made foxtail millet payasa for dessert.This uncle had been to Manasasarovara in 2007. He was telling us about his experiences. My elder brother, his wife and a Doddamma’s son had gone there in a group. My younger brother had been there 2017. Manasasarovara and Mount Kailash are very holy places for Indians.

I made two types of chutney powder. One using betel leaves and birds eye chillies called ‘Gandhari menasu’ in Kannada. The other with curry leaves, peanuts and Gandhari menasu. These are added to the basic ingredients of dals, cocum and copra.

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Today is a very, very rainy day and it is a pleasure to listen to the sound of falling rain and blowing wind. But the thought keeps coming to mind that what is pleasure to some is misery to others.

Bird’s eye chili – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bird’s_eye_chili

Lake Manasarovar – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Manasarovar

Mount Kailash – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Kailash

Meghadūta – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meghadūta

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”
― Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds