RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #159 Fate&Make


In this short journey,
We believe we make our life
Fate has its own plans.
But we have to do our best
And not worry about Fate.


RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #159 Fate&Make


Time stands still (Slice of Life)


Sometimes it so happens that we come across an idea; and then we run into the same idea again and again. Each time the idea is expressed differently. Recently I read Eavesdropping: A memoir of Blindness and Listening by Stephen Kuusisto. I really liked what he has written about listening. He says that each sound has a story to tell and that there are so many surprises when we actively listen to our surroundings. He writes about his childhood and his life as an adult. He loves to visit cities around the world in order to discover the art of sightseeing by ear. In one essay he writes about his visit to Iceland. There he attends a concert by Ruben Gonzalez, a Cuban musician. The author writes, “And then Ruben Gonzalez was playing the piano and time stopped. Then he let time back out.”

Yes, there are many moments in life when time stands still. I believe that one can appreciate such moments if one is open to them. A fellow-blogger  describes them as the “wow moment”.


These moments can be those of intense beauty or of extra-ordinary ordinariness. I still remember such an experience in Lothal. A few years ago we had been to Ahmedabad and went to Lothal, a site of the Indus valley Civilization. We grew up reading about that ancient civilization. Gazing at the still well-preserved remains I felt as if time had stopped. I had gone back 5000 years into the past. Another such moment which I shall always remember is when I held our grandson in my arms a short while after his birth. It was a special moment. Time stood still.

I came across the same idea in The Tibetan Book of living and dying. The author, Sogyal Rinpoche says, “Our mind is the universal basis of experience- the creator of happiness and the creator of suffering.” He says that people find it very difficult to understand the glory of the nature of mind. But sometimes we get fleeting glimpses of it. He explains, “These moments could be inspired by a certain exalting piece of music, by the serene happiness we sometimes feel in nature or by the most ordinary everyday situation… Such moments of illumination, peace, and bliss happen to us all and stay strangely with us.” I was reading about the great French photographer, Henri Cartier-Bresson, and The Decisive Moment. It is the same as “the wow moment”, or “when time stands still”, or that moment when we understand “the true nature of our mind”. Bresson was the first to propose this idea. He believed that the decisive moment occurs when the visual and psychological elements of people in a real-life scene spontaneously and briefly come together in perfect resonance to express the essence of that human situation.

While reading about such moments the proverb, ‘time and tide wait for none’ comes to mind. But time does stand still. It allows us to absorb that special moment. It moves on, but that moment remains with us.

Manipal lake 3rd may (2)


Time stands still (Slice of Life)


School and Beyond

My mother, Shantha Bhat’s memories of her childhood. My son, Aravinda and I translated it.

I started going to Bolvar school not very far from home. I do not remember its full name. We used to call it Bolvar shaale. I studied there till 5th std. I remember a teacher called Janaki. There was also a teacher who was popularly known as Bangaru master. He taught us Kannada. He was my mother’s cousin. I still remember him singing the song ‘Kaadiruvalu Shabari Ramabaruvanendu.’ This popular song was penned by the poet V Seetharamiah.

I went to the 6th class at Board High school. We girls wore long skirts and blouse (udda langa Ravike) We had only two dresses for school and one to wear at home. They had to last for a year. Mid-April (14th/15th) we celebrated Vishu or New Year. On that day, my father used to buy new clothes for all of us. We used to go to the temple wearing the new clothes. We walked to school but we had no footwear; come rain or shine, we walked barefoot. I remember getting my first pair of slippers after my marriage at the age of 18. I finished SSLC and within a year my marriage was fixed. I think I wanted to continue my studies. But the college was a little far from home and my father did not have the courage to send girls walking to school. On the way to school I remember chewing roasted tamarind seeds. In those days there was nothing like chewing gum. We roasted tamarind seeds, peeled off the outer skin and popped them into our mouths. They lasted all the way to school. School was from morning to evening and we came home for lunch.

One of my favourite memories about school was reading story books in class. I used to borrow books from my friends. If I was forced to return the book in a hurry, I would read them whenever I had a chance. From early childhood I loved reading books. My father used to get books for me. I remember the first books he got for me contained stories from different countries of the world. There was no electricity and I would even read under the light of the full moon. Thinking back now, I feel that I must have read with great difficulty. We used to have an oil lamp which consisted of a little glass bowl containing oil. Immersed in the oil was a wick. There was glass covering to protect the flame from the draft. I loved to read late into the night by the light of this lamp. When I heard my father approaching, his footwear making a crunching sound, I would put out the flame in a hurry and act as if I was asleep. My love for books continues to this day.

I remember a bangle seller (balegaara) coming home. He used to walk from place to place selling his ware to the womenfolk. He used to come to our village twice a year. I think we used to pester my mother and she would give some money to buy bangles. I remember playing hopscotch at home. We called it jubili aata. It was fun. I am told children still play this game.

One fond memory is of going to the circus in Mangalore. On that occasion father hired a taxi and took us all to Mangalore to see Kamala Three Ring circus.
(A brief history of the Indian circus – IN SCHOOL – The Hindu…circus/article4327096.ece
Jan 21, 2013 – Kamala Three Ring Circus needs a special mention here as what started humble went on to become a giant American-style six-pole three-ring …)

I think we also went to see a play the same day, but I don’t remember the name of that play. We then went to the Railway station. There was a train parked there. The gate was shut and we could not look at it from near. So we just had a peep. I remember my father saying that that was the railway station and that the long vehicle was a train.                Who knew then that I would get to travel on trains, within and outside our country with my husband for over fifty years! He worked with the Indian Railways. He joined the Service in 1958 and retired in 1987 as Controller of Stores.

Shaale – school
Bolvar- name of a place in Puttur
Shabari – An elderly woman who waited for Lord Rama

This is a beautiful song about a bangle seller sung by C Ashwath


( This photo is from the internet)


( My parents on their wedding day on May 1st, 1959)

School friends (Slice of Life)


Some time ago, a Facebook message told me that I had just celebrated five years of friendship with a friend. When I read that, my mind went back to 1976. I had joined a new school and I was in 9th Standard. I met this friend then. From the first something clicked and we became close friends. We had a lot in common. The next three years flew by and it was time to leave school. I left Delhi. We exchanged letters for some time. Those were the days of letters and after some time we lost touch. Life went on.

It was more than three decades since leaving school. At odd moments I would think about my friend, especially on her birthday. I was sure I would never meet her again. I am living in South India and she, in the north, when I left school. I had been to Delhi only once after 1979. Then, one day five years ago I got a friend request on Facebook from her. It was a dream come true. We are yet to meet in person but are in contact. This is one of the reasons I like Facebook.

School photo

School friends (Slice of Life)





The Daily Post Photo Challenge : Bridge

For this challenge, interpret the theme “bridge.” You can go the same route as I did and capture any type or style of bridge where you are, or go deeper and take a snapshot of something or someone that acts as a bridge in your life: a link, a connection, a mediator.

In our village, in the areca garden there are small streams and narrow water channels. The dead areca trees are cut and laid across the streams or channels and they serve as bridges. 




The Daily Post Photo Challenge : Bridge