Category: Blogging

Remembering Tagore

Today is the anniversary of birthday, of Rabindranath Tagore, poet-philosopher and many more talents to quote.

My eyes moist and heart fills with pride when, I sing and listen to Indian National Anthem.

My humble salutation.

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Music To Heart and Soul

decipher

Some days I sit long hours glaring into the computer screen. I know what I want to write. But, the words simply refuse to come and thoughts vanish into oblivion.

Here I am in one such boundless moment where, the mind is behaving meditative and I sense an absolute blankness.

However, somewhere deep within, I hear one of my favourite Rabindrasangeet play. “Aaguner parashmoni chhnoao praane E jibon punnyo karo……….” The lines literally mean “purify my soul”. And blessed I feel.

I do not remember the ‘first time’ when I got to listen to this song. But I do remember the ‘every time’ when I listen to this song, I’m overwhelmed with emotions.

The lines written in Bengali with its in-depth meaning, spoke the universal language. It touched my heart deeply.

It is then that I picked up an English translation of Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore’s Gitanjali (Song Offerings), a collection of poems.

To me, the precious creation is an honest heart’s journey of life in communion with the Almighty, and the spiritual connection in every simple thing that makes them the most extraordinary beings in life.

This year marks Gurudev’s (as he is fondly called) 154 Birth Anniversary (May 7, 1861). His creative endeavours are still refreshing.

To quote one of my dearest friends from West Bengal, “Meaning changes with each passing phase of life….That’s the magic of Gitanjali.” “That’s the magic of Rabindrasangeet too,” I added.

Little wonder, my mind plays his music therapeutically. And I write, the words from my heart.

Originally published, May 7, 2014

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Anniversary

ring

Thirteenth Wedding Anniversary. “How has been your journey so far?” Asked a well-wisher.

The question took me directly to the day we were married. No! It took me to the day we first met. A typical arranged marriage set up in a traditional family household. A check on horoscope and family background was the only research taken up by the members of the family. Date was fixed for a formal meeting. One country but two different states.

The boy’s flight was delayed. He was to reach around lunch time. The assorted memory  of mother rushing through the kitchen, planning a lunch for a total stranger and his family; and the repeated commanding tone to “tidy up your hair and face” echoing  in the hallway is etched forever .

Short hair, what could be done was a bigger issue. The boy’s rejection may be just on those grounds “you see”. “Oh. Please smile. It enhances your features.”  “Chose a lighter colour, it will improve your complexion.” To quote and unquote some concerned family members.

The bell rang. One last minute scrutiny on my surrounding and me. Father opened the door. Brother stood next to him and nodded; the code between brother and sister, a reply to “He should be a few inches taller than me.”

I stood behind, watching.Our eyes met over the many heads.

Fifteen minutes of get-to-know family business and 10-minutes of boy meets girl separately.  He began to speak. “I want you to know….” There, he listed his vices first, including his workaholic nature. I chose the same order to introduce myself. He laughed and I fixed a smile. No typical questions and trained answers. Expectation none. Demands none. “Just be yourself.”

Waiting for their response was the longest.  “They’ve to reach home, speak to their people and then they will call.” My father told my grandparents.

The phone rang….  The senior family members began to congratulate each other.  Their delighted eyes turned to me. “Tell us about the meeting. What did he ask you? How did you behave?” “I was being myself. There were no conventional, regular questions.” I left them wondering.

Yes. That’s the answer. “Journey has been the same so far. Nothing has changed post marriage. We’re, what we would say, “just being ourselves.”

As for conditions apply, love, respect and understanding just followed the course.”

Copyright © 2018, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar

 

Daily Prompt: Vegetal

“Am not looking my best, but you will relish me, I promise.” My mind never stops talking when I am in the market and laying hands on the green vegetal. Often, it is the feel of it that, leads to visualisation of the dinner menu on the table.

The cabbages, carrots, bell peppers are always easy-to-pick. The green peas frozen and fresh pods are more of a decision because they differ in flavours when cooked. Deciding between celery and coriander is yet another task for most of my Indian cooking, especially the north Indian dishes, taste wonderful to a hint of coriander.

The spinach washed clean, green, tender, are always welcome. Yet, I have to replay the vegetal aroma to match the dishes. Without doubt, a dish of spinach that retains its original flavour is the most preferred these days.

That reminds, the selection I had to make from the assorted sprouts in packets.  A week into vacation, left me with little choice but to buy the ‘usual’ home germinated beans and pulses, and home-made yogurt.

However, in a local market the vendors do not place the name plates for the veges . With the global touch, the vegetable markets have an array of lettuce, broccoli, zucchini and such other foreign guests laid alongside the popular and the desi (local) collections. Guess, that is the first reason, why I had visited the net to learn about the vegetal.

Interestingly, the dictionary meaning turned into another search from vegetables, to vegetal characteristics of unripe grapes in wine, to vegetal cells in embryology.

Let time decide. My concern for the day is, dinner for two.

Daily Prompt – Vegetal

Copyright © 2016, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar

via Daily Prompt: Vegetal

In Knowing: Published Work

Hello.

In Knowing, an anthology of seventy poems, is my third book in English.

A play of abstract, spiritual, philosophical, inspirational love and life poems, In Knowing, expresses myriad feelings, some defined and some left to conjure.

Perceptions, purely perspective, I have chosen words to match the free flow of emotions. That’s also one reason I decided to keep the count of the poems to “seventy”, the number associated with spirituality and sacredness.

But, what makes poetry lovable? I guess, it is only our “state of mind” at “that moment”. May be, it is our “poetic assumption”.

In Knowing, is a compilation of previously published poetry from my blog. I am grateful to all those writers/poets/artists in the blogging world whose “page visits”, “Likes” and “comments” have been very encouraging.

Thank You One and All.

* Available Online:

Preview:

Google Books

Book Speaks

Warm Regards.