Miracles

These clusters of harvest,

Resplendent life giving elixir,

These bunches of buds,

Blooming with aroma,

These crystal waters,

Waltzing through brazen rocks,

These frail beats..

Echoing in the ears,

Myriad thoughts -

Tempests in grey cells,

Bells of mirth,

Filling the heartbeats,

Tepid droplets

Revealing obscure scars,

Masquerading around,

In veils of joy..

These numberless creations,

Sing sagas

Of your many miracles.

All I need 

Is just that knowledge.

Manuscript

Verse

The shimmering bits,
Supressing under the heels,
Imprint you feet..
Leaving a trail,
Leading my way.
The shells of your thoughts,
Scatter aimlessly..
Toppling in the remnants
Of the waves of my feelings!
Yes, it is possible..
To lead me by an arm's distance away
And still adorn my emotions,
Weighing  heavily
On the shores of my heart!
Yes, this core sprouts
Kernels of smiles,
Every living moment-
Engrossed ,
In the ocean of your love!

The L word.

There are some incidents that shift your take on things. These incidents either glorify the said things to great heights or throw them in the slump. They act like paradigm shifts and alter or distort the way you perceive stuff. Long back, in the dark ages, I happened to stumble upon a book at my cousin's place in the sultry Vijayawada, while enjoying my summer vacation. A book that was meticulously covered with a news paper, pressumably to hide the graphic or title, or both! It was a "Mills and Boon'' publication. Now, most teen girls in the nineties must have grown up with a healthy dose of distorted images of love and romance, thanks to those publishers. The heroes were brazen, tall, dark handsome and mighty players while the heroines were pure and demure. And yes, Grey and Steele had literary predecessors dating back to generations. And this covered book wasn't an exception by any stretch of imagination. It could have been titled your typical 'maverick and maiden' if not shades of a particular color, but the concept was just the plain old wine in the plain old bottle. So I don't have a recollection of the title, or the characters. I only had one particular quirk of the leading man stay with me all these years. He would never ever utter the phrase  " I love you".Being the typical romance novel hero, and the untamable commitment phobe, he would religiously substitute the 'love' with 'like' till the climax kicks in and he is reformed.

      So what was the scar that the book left? A bitter taste for the phrase 'I like you'. (grin) The book irreparably tarnished the 'Like' word, to a point where it got obliterated from my vocabulary list. And then started the abuse of the other L word...Love! I never liked anything anymore. I had to upgrade to
Love. Be it a dish or a movie, a person or a book, I had to use the superlative ever since. If the word love was banned from my vocab, I'd have been at a loss. Thankfully, my feminism was blooming by then in the backdrop and I never really bought the plots. They seemed as mushy and escapist literature back then as they seem now. Romance novels always felt like the friend that never grows up. All of us have one friend right? Whose grey matter can defy age? Well, I seem to have more than one and thank you in advance for not asking me to name them ;) In their defense, they can be such great stress busters. You hangout with one of them and the world transforms into roses without thorns, smelling sweet and looking pretty. They are the perfect antidote for the likes of me with 'Meenakumari' syndrome.

       So it took eons, for that word 'like' to sprinkle its moderate magic on my sensibilities. And it happened when a seven year old student of mine drew a picture and wrote a message for me, welcoming me back from my vacation. "I think you should take this paper" it read, followed by an "I like you" on the back of a very elaborately sketched unicorn. Then it dawned upon me, the beauty of a  straight forward, uncomplicated word. It probably worked its magic because it came from a child and it sounded much lighter than the word 'love'. It was a saner and a less demanding substitute for the heavy and intense 'Love'. Viola, and the paradigm shifts again.

Now I'll go back to liking my students, sandwiches, sparkling things, sunshine, silence and Sachin Tendulkar.

Determined

It's been long since I blogged. Reasons and excuses pile up. But here I come determined to write today, cause I missed it more than I could realize. iPad an I don't make a good pair, especially when it comes to typing text, but my sheer determination makes me use my dull digits to key this in..What does it mean to you? More (and more) typos ;)

I have a sea of thoughts crossing my mind, and before I end up thinking aloud and making this a journal of sorts, I'll steer this into a direction, and that would be 'translation'.

In a recent conversation with newly made acquaintances, I attempted to translate a Hindi adage for the benefit of a non hindi speaking person. Words that come easily, eluded me that evening.

"The world is anchored on hope" the adage was translated and the hard to please Moi got endlessly charmed cause the non hindi speaking guest, for whose benefit I was trying to translate the adage, found the right word "anchored". For a minute, I didn't know if this person didn't know the language or if there is a mind reading ability of sorts hidden from me. And then, after the initial doubt in the skeptic's mind, the thought drifted to how we all fail to translate what we feel into the right sort of words or expressions. We lose a lot of things in translation...meanings, intentions, ideas, emotions etcetera. What if we had the ability to translate every thought of ours into pristine words? Words as clear as crystal, that what we intend to show behind them appear through the transparency of our expressions? How wonderful would it be, if we could put forth our every thought into a pile or even a  tiny cluster of words? For what are feelings, when they are not expressed?

On that note, I make a humble attempt to do a translation (a literal one) of lyrics that touched a cord of my heart.

The raven nights spread,
You come with Dawn in tow..
In this random life,
You come with order in tow.
My forlorn ship,
Lost on the seas,
To the shores you bring it
Somehow.
There's some connection with you,
And I know not how I know it.
What do I say now,
I want to stay now,
Forgetting the heavens,
Taking refuge in your arms.

A favor bestowed upon me on passing,
This fleeting moment fills my lap.
I get a glimpse of your form,
A shining star in my path..
Like my fortune gets,
A beacon of hope.

In the sulking longings,
You come with answers.
You bring the light of  conversation,
In this silence.

My forlorn ship,
Lost on the seas,
To the shores you bring it
Somehow.
There's some connection with you,
And I know not how I know it.
What do I say now,
I want to stay now,
Forgetting the heavens,
Taking refuge in your arms.

Check out 'Raabta' - A night in motel from Agent Vinod to get the bits lost - in translation. And while you are at it, watch the sheer genius of  a single shot visual, in which the number was shot! 

So long till the blogging bug hits again, and try if you may, to get it out and loud, the emotions that seep through the cracks in translation :-)

Draping Dreams - Anagha

     The sanskrit word Anagha means the 'beautiful one' - and the story of Anagha - a specialty handloom boutique and its creator Sarvamangala Chavali are just that! - When I first had a glimpse of Sarvamangala, it was her outer beauty that caught the eye. Her eyes smile and her face reflects happy radiance. When you delve deeper into who she is, you realize the fact that there are many challenges and personal battles that are carefully concealed in those smiling eyes.

     In her late teens, Sarvamangala stared off her career as an air hostess with Air India and shortly after that,  she settled in matrimony. A few years and two kids later, she had to face the challenges of a turbulent marriage and eventually had to build her life all alone. As an extension of her battle to be self sufficient, Anagha had taken shape in 2008 when Sarva borrowed a petty amount from her dad and invested her love for handlooms into her business. Ever since, she had touched the wardrobes of many women across the world and revamped them with her eclectic collection and discerning taste. Her wares attract bidding battles on her Facebook page and sell out within minutes of the albums going live. One has to see her collection to realize how breathtakingly beautiful the Indian handlooms look. From Khadi to Jute tussar, from Mangalgiris to Maheshwaris - her boutique covers it all.

     Sarvamangala's professionalism and friendly nature had won her many admirers and well wishers over the years and it is so hard to guess what she had gone through when one sees the optimism overflowing in her personality and character. She is the epitome of grace and strength and a truly inspiring story to everyone. 

     Anagha started as an all woman enterprise and had male employees only when the tailoring unit came into being, as women cutters and tailors are a scarcity. Over two thirds of her employees continue to be women. Sarvamangala contributes to social causes by donating a percentage of Anagha's profits towards education and upbringing of two girl children, one in her 8th grade (with Rural Development foundation) and a special needs girl child  from Hanuman Junction, with Asha Jyothi foundation. 

     Apart from making a mark in the textile industry with her unique  handloom designs and winning the hearts of many women, Sarvamangala also won the 'Outstanding Woman Entrepreneur' award by Federation of AP Chambers of Commerce and Industry (FAPCCI) in July 2011, barely three years into Anagha's inception. 
 

     Today Anagha does a positive contribution to the handloom industry by employing weavers from all corners of India. It is Sarvamangala's passion for handlooms that has brought  allure to the industry among the younger generation. In a textile market of synthetics and sequins, her demure collections breath a new life into reviving our handloom heritage. She also empowers her women staff by inspiring and guiding them in personal and professional fronts. Next time you are in the city, do drop by to check out her  boutique on Road no 1, Banjara Hills, Hyderabad.   In the meanwhile you can visit her facebook page  ( https://www.facebook.com/anaghadesigns ) and lose yourself in the bliss of colors and textures.

. 

Sarvamangala Chavali, The strength behind it all. 

                                               

A glimpse into her colorful store.

Working with the weavers to create magic.

Accepting her FAPCCI award from Honorable CM Of AP. 

It is my honor to feature her in my blog hoping to inspire women across the world with her wonderful story. 

Written for the Indiblogeshwaris' "Ladies Independence Special Contest" in association with "womenentrepreneursinindia.com"

Festival day 7 - The Grand Finale.

How many Sevens are there?

Let me count the groups - 

Seven colors in the rainbow,

Seven oceans, the proverbial ones!

Deadly sins, seven in all - 

Do, Re, Me, Fa...the seven notes!

Seven Dwarfs homeward bound -

7 up, the lemony lime drink - 

Seven wonders enthralling the world

For Potterheads, seven epics.

Kurusova's Seven Samurais,

Monday to Sunday - seven days a week!

In the festival of words, seven celebrations

Bringing in the love to write!

Counting up was real fun,

Rejoicing in a job just done:-)

That concludes my count up - I am feeling a bit juvenile today, so wanted to write a fun little poem. Thanks to Write tribe for the concept and to all the participants who kept me going. And a special thank you to  Corinne Rodrigues for the initiative and inspiration.

Festival day 6 - The Birth number 6!

I was born on the sixth day of the ninth month over three decades and a half ago..and ever since I had the concept of birthdays in my mind, I particularly felt happy about the sound of six and nine and then, at a later date, the concept of zodiacs was introduced to me and I started believing that Linda Goodman modeled her Virgo description after me.

I keep reminding myself that growing old is compulsory, growing up is optional - no, no, I am not talking about the good way of growing up - But the not wanting to grow up form being a child at heart...

I still get fascinated with shiny things (as long as they are not meant to adorn the person)

I still love crayons and paints and buy them blaming it on my kid.

I still enjoy ice cream and chocolate.

I still sneak into the illustrated story books from my kid's book case (In fact I bought every Disney and Dr.Seuss publication when Aarti was less than a month old :-P - I got the much needed pretext by then)

I still day dream and gasp when I see flowers, dandelion, butterflies and bees :)

Well...You get the idea. I always lived a life , a couple of decades older than mine in my mind - but at heart, I'll remain six all along.

Happy birthday to the undiluted Number '6'

:-)

Festival day 5 - Five for Fighting.

John Ondrasik got introduced to me a few years ago, when a like minded friend sent me his music video.

I had been in love with his music ever since.

I specially like his song - "To be Me"

And not just to echo his sentiments, but in my own right, though I am not any super anything - it is not easy "To be Me" ;-)

Tell me you like it!

Adios for today!

:-)

Festival day 4 - Seasons.

Here's a set of 4 Haikus celebrating the Seasons.

 Blooming bright,

On soul's every vein,

Happy memories!

Rock n roll

On sizzling sands

Bright Sun!

Shed them,

The bygone cares -

Fall in love!

Flakes, chills,

Crisp breeze of dawn,

Descend upon!

Festival day 3 - Three memories.

As a part of the count up to number 7 in my recent blog challenge, the Festival of words, I record three pictures taken in my travels recently.

From top - 1) - Guards at the city palace in Athens. We got there just in time for the guard changing ceremony. 2) A view of the famous Oia village in Santorini island, Greece 3) Scottish Highlands.