Elements

Four elements, known to us all 
Taken for granted, as much as parents
Fire, Earth, Air, Water
And perhaps another one or two or three
Space, Firmament, Stars, all that is above -
Taken for granted, just as much
As the four elements, known to us all.
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Earth one needs - when existence is physical,
Mother Earth supporting physical beings with
Patience, care, love, enveloping all
Even those that take flight, live in air high above, do need
Her sustenance, occasionally, when
Exhausted, in need of respite
We fall asleep in her arms, in her lap,
Even when in a palatial dwelling, in silks and on marble and gold
Earth the silent mother carries it all,
Whispers gentle songs of hers, bringing us the much needed
Rest.
Much like a
Mother that carries the unborn and born
Her own body carrying the weight, supporting, sustaining life.
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Much of the physical being though
As long as life is dwelling in body, is of
Water, and needs water
Unborn lives enveloped by the love and care that is
Ocean that sustains life,
Living need the love and care and be part of the chains of
Life that won't be without
Love, care, the very element of
Life that is
Water
Needed as long as
Life lasts.
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Most of Life, though, at any rate those of us that
Abide on land,
Unlike those that dwell in waters of
Oceans, rivers, lakes et al of
Life, Love
Need more than just
Love, care, life,
Water

All very well until a point,
Water, Life, Care, Love,
All very needed
But then appears the need of
Breath and Air, Mind Thought,
Somewhere the mouth, throat, living apparatus
Must distinguish the two
Else struggle to survive

Distinguish, and discriminatingly
Separate breath from water,
Keep one's breath pure
Not drown in
Life.

Life waits
Oceans, rivers, lakes, ponds, wells,
One may drown - or be devoured by one of those that
Dwell there, play, would swallow one whole, or
Shred one to bits
Those of us that live on land must
Know where to step,
Draw the boundary, so as
Not to drown and yet sustain
Life,

Breath Air, yet not forget
One needs
Water, Love, Care, for
Life.
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One might be forgiven for concluding it is all there is
Breathing is above all, and
Indeed one couldn't live without
Breath, Air,
Thought, Mind,
For even the dwellers of
Oceans, rivers, lakes, ponds, wells,
Water, life, love, care,
Do breathe,

Air permeates water, and those that dwell not on land
Know how to breathe when living in water,
Breath air they do, they know how, they can

So one might conclude, this is all
Earth, Water, Air, and no more

Build castles in air, fly high above
Forget Earth far below, looked at with disdain
Use Water, not revere it,
Air is all one is living in, and
Who can see air?
So one's own being is all there is, and
Air one breathes,
Thoughts that seem one's own creation, rather than of
Mind and the world thereof
And even if one knows
Air is not merely of one's breath,
Thought is as Air, passing free
Around and into beings
Still,
All this is not,
And yet, many assert, this is all there is,
Anything else perceived is mere
Illusion, they assert, loss of
Mind of those that look
Above.

Yes, this is all there is, they assert,
Never looking above,
Else claiming it is all illusion,
Created to fool, dreamers and cowered ones
Look above and lose mind, so don't - they go,
One's highest is oneself, they assert

There is truth in that too, but not as limited as they think
They know not yet the truth of more than
Life and Mind and Physical, of
Existence.
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Fire, whether of one's own hearth, of
Unseen Unknown hiding in one
Or of seen
Firmament above, of stars and galaxies and universes -
As real as any other element,
Used, but often denied
Seen as creation or discovery of
Primitives
No longer a mystery, tamed now - and no such thing as
Soul, Divine, Above -
Denied and finished.

And yet,
Look above,
Let Mind free
Thought roam independent, not
Yoked to Life, or all the more to
Ego, the shell of one's being
And one could know
Fire, and more -

The Space that envelops it all, where
Life and Mind and Physical
Existence
Resides
Fire and
Explosions that make stars of
What would otherwise be planets
Dead Terra of
Belts of millions orbiting
Before Jupiter,
After Neptune,
And more -
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Comets arrive
Once in a while
Beings that seem full of
Light
Earth looks up in wonder, falls to knees in worship,

And watches as one strikes
A tremendous god of yore,
Both hurt in the collision, as
Watchers from Earth look
To see who survives a collision,
Who is the winner of a
Celestial battle.

"Faiths" collide pretty much this way, too
"your god is untrue, for it was hurt, .." asserts each side,
And those that asserted
Air around is all there is, rest is mere illusion
Tell both how wrong they are,
Celestial bodies are merely more bits of
Rocks on fire, that is all -

Space, meanwhile, holds it all


While
Light above,
Firmament filled with
Visions
Stars and galaxies and universes
Carry on as ever.
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Left, Right, Family, Market

I always wonder why leftist thinking is labeled anti US, when in fact every family and every woman is required to live a leftist life, and church diktates (or what is conveniently misnamed family values) are precisely about herding women into a commune life of a couple and progeny with a lifestyle of traditional nature - which is about "do what one can and receive what one needs".

Capitalism can only work in market, a woman cannot go about negotiating price of conception and childbirth to full compensation of all else she might have to forego which could include her very life, and one after all can never pay a mom for life given, except by love and respect and full equal partnership with the father of the family.

Children have to be fed and clothed and housed and educated and more by parents without any thought of how they will pay back, moreover. So it is all communism, those that can do do all they can, those that need have to receive what they can, without any payment involved.

Extending this to public life is leftism, and it is only viable with awareness beyond mind, which is not universal as of now. Hence problems.

Twilight and Magic Hour

While I can't say I am unfamiliar with the phrase magic hour someone of India mentioned, used in cinema world, I find no recollection of it being ever used in any western or Nordic country, either in talk or in literature or on television or in films. It is possible one forgets now what seems not quite so important, but searching memory produces no mention of the phrase anywhere in Europe or US. What might be possible is it is one of those phrases that seem to be of one language while not really from a country of that language.

This happens sometimes to for example French, at least one phrase I am very familiar with from English literature is completely unfamiliar as a phrase to the AF teachers of French. Another such usage which seems to be of English language but is totally made up in India is "co" instead of "in law" when a symmetric relationship through two marriages is involved. South Indians use it extensively, while in north Hindi words usually do. In English speaking lands the phrase would be sister in law or brother in law for both possibilities. In south India they would say co sister or co brother for a symmetric relationship, and if one used the other phrase, they would correct you, under the impression that they have it right.

It seems to make sense, moreover, that the magic hour is a phrase made up in India, and all the more so in cinema world of Hindi cinema of Mumbai. Sunset is very beautiful in Mumbai (east coast, not so much), and the welcome relief from heat comes only thereafter (east coast begins to cool already at noon with cool breezes from the ocean).

In Nordic lands twilight is preferred long because it delays dark, something to be not liked, rather feared - only natural when forest creatures and others are likely to have more power. Moreover where sun is not all that hot and light is dim most of the time anyway, daylight with clear sun is termed "nice day" while cloud, rain, dark and so forth are disliked. Snow is another story, welcome because it does bring more light, and not wet you, and strangely enough it is better than dry winters which are far colder and not so enjoyable.

And what is more, fairy tales that one is so familiar with originate in Nordic lands, and are not exactly the Disney happy versions most of the times - they are full of things to be feared, and those precisely are what abound in dark, whether of winter when it is dark so long or on everyday nights all through the year. So twilight is not a happy time, it is only good in being long and not so abrupt as it is in tropics where dark descends in a jiffy. Nor do people go about watching sunsets as they do in India and perhaps all through tropics or hot parts of earth. It is a time to be indoors and light up until one is ready for bed.

Most telling of course is the hour part of the phrase. It is possible that twilight is an hour in southern US, but again, culturally it is not a part of the day liked or at least established in literature and language as liked, because the European heritage continues culturally in most part, the only significant difference being of daily showers common in US (twice quite often likely), while Europe still continues the centuries traditions of preferring baths and that not so often. Heat might be enough in CA or too much in ex confederate south, but culture still prefers sunshine, and while the latter likes various options for cooling during hot days, food still is European in most part, and so on. Nights are seen as time for "night life" or for bed, and only those serious (whether amateur or otherwise) about either study or art or music or science or stargazing have other ideas of how to pass dark hours. It is unlikely that twilight is termed magic hour even in those parts, because it is a part of the evening and falling dark is not significantly liked as such but is a time for evening occupations - whether homing to dinner and more, or going out for the evening (which is a term lasting until one goes to bed).

So association of magic and hour with twilight is likely to be of origin in Mumbai and quite rightly so. In those parts it is. Magic seems to be so small, so very insufficient and inadequate a phrase for this phenomena one experiences in Mumbai, it could only come from relatively hurried minds seeking for a catch phrase. And what is more, magic is not always positive, as one would know very well, if one is familiar with lands of fairy tales.

More than magic, in Mumbai and in Delhi and other parts too in India (albeit not east coast so much, especially in south), it is a celebration of beauty everyday at twilight, a festival of colours that light up the western skies as dusk brings a welcome cool and fresh breeze, while stars begin to appear over the ocean and overhead, and one is forever grateful for being able to see it and experience it on so every day a basis. 

Penguins, Emperors, Polar Bears, .... Tomcats -

The little girl holidayed in the valley
Shadowed in sun by tall mountains with
Snow capped peaks, fabled in legends of the land
Gods are here, and so were their sons
A long time ago
Their footprints and their paths still legendary
One can walk in them
The little girl holidaying with her parents and a cute little sister
Frolicking in snow that fell gentle
It was early yet
Snow a novelty in the land of sun and forests,
Abode of snow and ice protecting it and standing ever awake
Sentry against winds and those that would ravage the land
Until the ravagers found a pass, and the land was ravaged for centuries

The little girl frolicked, blissfully unaware of history
Subconsciously protected by legends of sons of
Gods still present
If only one were aware and able to admit
Heavens have more than humans, living in
Blue of Divine Light

The little girl played, sang, told stories, until
One day she came, almost in tears, agitated
Asking, is it true, tomcats eat their own young?
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What could one tell her,
How protect someone on brink of growing into
Young adulthood,
Without forever making her see dark when she should see
Light and Bliss and peaks of life to come?
How does one not lie, and yet return the
Smile of a child
No joke, facing a horror at first steps of
Wonder years that were just about to begin!

One had to tread cautiously,
Tell her, held gently in arms encircling
Away from one's self, looking at one another
Directly in eyes that said,
Life is hard, but not all horror,
Return to the child the assurance of protection
Of goodness and all possibilities
Tell her about life
And yet bring her smile back.

Yes, tomcats do eat their own young, one told her
But humans are not tomcats
While some do behave like that
Everyone born is free to make one's own choice
And some go as far as to be almost
Penguins, even as good as
Emperors who protect their young
With their own substance of life
While the mommy penguins go off into ocean
They have given most of their life to bring about the little one
Still in the egg, now held in warmth of the papa penguins
Waiting for the moms to return to see the now newborn young,
Waiting in the deep Antarctic winter of  southern continent
Protected from others with deep cold, by
Mother Nature of Earth.

Humans are free to choose, and
While some do choose to go the tomcats way,
Others might ignore young like lions do
Or go south and be
Penguin fathers who care for their young
Every bit as much as their moms do.

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The little girl's tears, one could see, were receding
She was brought back to safety of her life
And a future that was possible
Without horrors
Yet aware of horrors that abound
And one needs to avoid
So one could care for one's young and not fear
Tomcats and bears walking in human bodies.
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Wish someone had told the beautiful little girl
Who was never aware of
Various other beings in human disguise
And so she lost her life
Protecting her young as best as she could
The only admonition her own mother gave her
She had made it her own life's goal,
With no sustenance other than spirit of a mother
And this was the best she could give
The beautiful daughter who in her turn
Protected her young at the cost of
Her own being.

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Shadow Of The Moon

Shadow of The Moon



Shadow of the full moon that
She was, cooling our lives of desert heat
Fell into the lake deep in
Hidden in the cave
Lair of the wolf that
Walked among men
And pretended to be afraid of
Innocent, until they were beguiled
Only to be lured to the cave
For the duration of his play
Blinded some, only in mind sometimes, others
Hit in head and thrown to
Wolves and jackals and hyenas that roam about in
Guise of humans - gender regardless -
And were hounded for life until
Finished to the satisfaction of the werewolf
Hidden in the cave.

He had some innocents beguiled
And too the shadow of the
Moon
Reflected in the lake hidden deep in the cave
His lair
And the innocents brought in those that loved them
The moon her own love, and her shadow brought in
The one thrown far away by the wolf
One he repented not tearing to shreds
And so the shadow of the moon it was
The wolf cried to
He had lost the moon for ever.

The shadow of the moon had pity in her depths
Just as the cave has deep pockets of air
Lake deep and reflecting the heavens sometimes
So the shadow of the moon glimmered out when the
Lake flowed out - and called to the
One wandering about crying for the lost moon
Torn to shreds by the wolf and his ilk, but still living,
Not so easily lured to the cave of the
Werewolf.

Shadow of the moon called out, glimmering,
Over and over
And the innocent torn to shreds, healed,
Came yet over and over
Heeding to the call of the shadow of the moon
Torn over and over to shreds by the
Wolfpack that was mostly hyenas and jackals
Until finally thrown too far away
Finished now, the werewolf thought
Not quite, someone said from Above
Innocent yet lived, healed, just about
And this time
Closed ears and mind to the calls of the wolves
Crying to the moon - and closed eyes to the
Shadow of the moon.

Eons passed, and the word spread
Brought about by a magpie, the innocent heard it too
The wolf is no more, the pack at throats of one another,
Shadow of the moon all alone with her lonely support
Innocent melted
Fool, said magpie before flying off to lands far away, safe
Donkey, said the beleaguered
Doe eyed son of the moon - and
Shadow of the moon smiled, said,
Come home, innocent,
It is yours too -
Not the same cave any more,
It is new,
Free of the pack.

Somewhere along the way the innocent had learned
Werewolves don't die
Nor change into human for good
Tales of their sprouting hearts are but tales
Perceived absense of their fangs merely due to
Depths of cave hiding them, and the
Depths of the cave are strewn with the dead innocents

Shadow of the moon waits, bound to the
Lake flowing out from the depths of the cave
One could say, no, thus far and no further, and
See the shadow of the moon recede into the cave
One could dare step in, and see
One's love, one's life torn to shreds
Yet one more time
Else
One could wait out
One's life, held by the thread from heavens
Not stepping into where the thread might be lost
Risk the shadow of the moon recede,
Tears in her heart refusing to let her know she was
Weapon of the wolf, not the manna she wished she were
To the innocents of the world.

When one has looked yet again upon
Shadow of the moon
It isn't that easy.
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She says he had turned human
Memories say otherwise
He was good at fooling her, and others
She, good at forgetting all that was bad, forgiving,
This is how one loses when tempers are temporary flares
Forgiveness a doctrine that
Ever has evil win

That his earthly envelope is gone they say
And a death glorified
Not deserved by such as he

Never mind forgiveness or forgetting
No reparations possible when
Lives he took and destroyed are
Beyond repair
They say, aren't you happy?
Not theirs to assert
When one has lost all but a shred
And holds it against all cold winds and heat of furies
It is but a mercy from heaven
All one earned gone with the strikes over and over
By the thief that took it all and gave it away to his faithful
And left one bleeding over and over, till satisfied
One would not get up again
Provide a lesson to others who might yet wish to follow and
Be independent
Now meanings are changed
Independence is about right to lure one not yet dead to the wolf's lair
And flying off safe oneself
To Gold cages and silver chains
Forgiveness is about stepping again into the
Lair of the werewolf
Deep shadows of the cave
And only a
Shadow of the moon
Reassuring as ever
There is no wolf,
Never was one.
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It was all your own stars, said the wolf
Others echo the words
Slightly rearranged or more
Laments of yore are a bore, they state flat out
One has lost a life, over and over
One merely wishes to return the
three pieces of brass square
So one's pain, one's being torn apart is
Not paid for.
This peace one shall not grant the werewolf
This little shred of one's own self
Once let go,
One could lose one's own self
For ever this time.

It is late autumn after all,
Winter has arrived on doorstep
And no time to go forth
Gathering a life for one's own
Yet again.

Shadow of the moon
Red Riding Hood
Could she be rescued?
Hope so. Don't know.
After all, she has been known to rebel too
And demand her rights of making her own decisions.
She has survived the cave, the lair, the pack
So, perhaps, she is all right -
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Civil on Internet

How does internet turn strangers into rude obnoxious marauders knocking on your door at any time they choose and demand you do this or that, not realising they are being uncivil and need to stop doing this?

How does one stop such intrusion into what one expects to be a contact page with one's acquaintances or friends, colleagues and relatives, with relevant exchanges of information and conversations?

How does one tell off a stranger it is not her or his business to ask if you are angry, or admonish you about praising someone because the praise does not fit their agenda which they have not really thought widely over?

How does one tell people it is a platform to exchange news and information, but not demand photographs or offer unwanted ones, and act as if they are your aunts or grandfathers when in reality they happen to be about two fifth of your age and obviously lack education judging from the behaviour and posts, apart from capacity to think and any semblance of civil discourse or interaction?

How does one make them stop badgering one with unwanted missives and attacks which they promise to continue no matter what one does, and execute the promise by simply attacking from another page with a false name?

Is it any different from thieves and pickpockets and common thugs, this random attacking of people they carry out?

Or should one conclude it is directed focused from a hidden source with an agenda? Should one say, flies are hard to get rid of and mosquitoes might be dangerous but pesticides seem to not work?

Should one expect humanity to behave better than pests at all, or not all of them at any rate?
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Once we suffered danger of heart attack and more, when living in a supposedly posh locality because the neighbours who thought they were posh began partying around midnight and had extremely loud noises that made it impossible to rest, what with walls shaking and more. If we went knocking on door where this "party" was taking place they would go silent, pretending there was no one there, but their own children inside were wailing and gave the pretense away. They were unwilling to stop and attacked us with garbage thrown in our balcony.

We moved to a supposedly not so posh neighbourhood for sake of peace and silence and hope it will not threaten us again. Hope.

How does one move away from marauders and attackers on internet? Or is the internet so full of beasts one can only escape by having no presence at all? Never say a thing, never post no matter who is posting obscene attacks against someone vulnerable, not protest when a murder of a scientist is being discussed and people are justifying it in name of faith?

Or does one simply take it now that life is war and one cannot run away? When facing Kaurava and co one has to do one's duty, speak out against murders of scientists and defend vulnerable young women, state truth and facts and reason, for if one stops perhaps all might and then falsehood will have won?
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Misuse of Brand India in restaurant in Paris

Old Kashmir near Boulevard St Germain in Paris was close to where we stayed the second time we visited Paris, and we went in for dinner, pleased to see a restaurant that declared itself as Indian on the board. We went in since the restaurant described itself as Indian, and expected vegetarian food to be that, vegetarian. Instead the food had something we could not identify except as unpalatable, and likely not vegetarian.

When at the door leaving, manager asked about it, possibly owners, and we informed them truthfully about what we thought. They did not deny it, but blamed it on local populace, and promised us genuine vegetarian food the next time.

We were not about to risk that, and come to think of it the unpalatable might not have been food at all, and in all likelihood the restaurant was Indian only in name. We had been served something horrible for sake of political revenge from across the border in a place far away, and this was bad behaviour in every way.

I have to say this behaviour was unusual, and we have visited quite a few restaurants in US and in Europe that were of owners from across the border and we had very good food and very friendly and courteous treatment in all of them, and felt wonderful.

As for the blaming on local people in Paris by this establishment, a lot of people eating around us asked for the same vegetarian food and were happy chatting with us, and the owner of the creperie next door informed us he did not have an extra pan to make vegetarian crepes for us, apologising for not being able to do so. We were overwhelmed with his finickiness about vegetarian food, and always remembered it as example of awareness in Paris. So this place blaming locals was fraudulent, although even if it were true they could have refrained from adding whatever it is they did to what they served us.

In short, one cannot trust this place.
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