You know how it is....when you want to start on a path of reformation, something that has been toying at you for sometime, and you know you have to do it, but are still stuck in a place, where you don't know where and how to begin. The feeling of being stationary kills you, as much as the inertia of big change wills you to stay put, where it is still safe, and familiar and comfortable.
This is the exact place I have been at for the past several years when it comes to my health and my fitness. And this is where I would have stayed for a bit longer, had it not been for the divine intervention of my guide and mentor, my dear friend and one of my biggest well wishers of this process of self-change. She will have a bigger and better introduction over the course of something else, new and exciting, that will be launched soon, but suffice it to say, that she took it upon herself to nudge me, and then pinch me, and then strongly shake me awake from my stupor (for that is what it was) , and make me believe, through her shining faith that change was in me. And that if 'I' set my mind to it, I can move mountains.
Its pretty evident isn't it, all these above things I just said. We all know that anything is possible if you set yourself up for it. But how many of us have willingly pursued it for the truth that it is, setting aside restrictions and comfort zones? Its very hard to emerge from the shell of habit and be blinded by the sunlight of the truth, but there it is.
Okay...getting down to brass tacks, for the past 5 days, I had undertaken a detoxification fast with water. This means, 5 days of water of upto 5 litres a day, organic veggie broth for lunch and a cup of diluted organic juice without sugar for dinner. And herbal teas. And an enema first thing in the morning. And lots of time to introspect and retreat into my shell to believe in myself through this. And to make things a bit more interesting and inspiring, my mentor made each day about something. Day 1 was the Day of Resolution. Day 2 was the Day of Introspection. Day 3 was the Day of Reflection. Day 4 was the Day of Visualisation. And Day 5, today, is the Day of Celebration.
Yes, I am still on the fast. My last 24 hours of it. And I feel g.r.e.a.t!!! I feel lighter, healthier, cleaner, stronger and prettier. My skin cleared up amazingly over the last week and I feel like really looking at myself in the mirror today. Before, I would have been ready to call it quits by 9:00 in the morning, and now, I feel like a day of promise has just begun. I never believed I could have self control and self discipline. If you have followed my posts closely, you will know that this has been the tenor of a lot of my thoughts. Now, I have been introduced to a new side of me...a Tharini, that can have a will of steel and go for the gold.
My journey towards weight loss and better health is by no means over, and it has only just begun. Like my friend wrote me in an email this morning, you are just starting Kindergarten tomorrow. :) So graduation is a long way ahead. But finally, I no longer feel alone in the process. I have 2 new people in my life now....my mentor, and my new, strong, believing Me.
I can never ever give back to her in any measure that she has given me. But I can pay it forward. So if there is anything I can do for any of you, to set you on your own path of health, physical, mental, emotional....please reach out to me, and I will reach back with a hand.
I feel very distant from W-Way right now. And even more so all of you who read it. R complained the other day of landing here and not finding anything new to read. Truth is there is plenty happening. But I am just feeling very lazy about recording it. There's a small sudden break in the pattern now, and I want to seize this mood to write and fill you guys in on things.
Firstly, did I tell you that spring is already here upon us? A whole 6 weeks earlier than every other year I have seen while I have been here. It feels almost like stealing. That's how I looked at it those first few days unable to believe and even savour that it could get so warm, so soon. When I say warm, I mean the 50's and 60's, which is a far cry from this sudden cold freeze of today. Blowing winds, wet rains, and some snow on top of that. Its like Mother Nature is confused what mix to bring on next.
Okay, so now that the weather trivia is out of the way, let me get into the more personal stuff. We are going to India this summer. Me and the boys will be there for June and July and R will join us. But the true highlight of it all is a 10-day interlude right in the middle of our vacation. Even now it is surreal to contemplate, but for the first 2 weeks of July, we shall 'finally' be spending time in Puttaparthi. There is a National Pilgrimage happening from the US this year, and after all my yearning from last year, we will, Godwilling, finally be a part of it. I had many trepidations about how I would cope on this with the boys in tow, and the blazing summer heat and the crowds at Parthi and the early rising and the long, full days, but after a point, the thoughts have ended, and there is just a quiet peace and surrender. It will be truly easier to do it without the boys, but the true pilgrimage is when we do it all together.
My ex-fractured leg had been bothering me for a long time even into the recovery process. And all that silent worry pooled inside festering into despair, that erupted in all the little and big ways. At this point, I'd like to digress and say....I can't for the life of me understand, why we take so long to help ourselves, when we have diagnosed a problem!! Anyways, long story short, the gym thing is finally beginning to help my cause. The stiffness that I couldn't get rid off, is flexing it way out of my muscles slowly, and every step that I take which is pain-free, I celebrate inside me.
One big sweet sunshine of my life right now is bhajans. I can't get enough of them, singing them, hearing them, learning more, listening more, and the boys are falling into that right with me. They now have special requests from me, when we are driving, and the rate at which they are picking it up is amazing. And the Universe has once again fulfilled me soul deep urge to have more time at bhajan, by the forming of a Tuesday Satsang group, where a group of us women who share this love of devotional singing can gather together and do just that to our heart's content. Life seriously doesn't get any better than this!!
Okay, here's something I want to share, but I am still hesitant to. For what if its not something I see through fully?? I know I know...very cryptic, but suffice it to say that for the next 5 days, I want to undertake something that will break through some very self imposed barriers on my psyche. And if you want to hear more about it, it will only be at the conclusion and you will have to pray intensely for me to succeed, in whatever it is that I am alluding to.
There is more. Much more. But I will now pace it out over the coming posts. I want to be back to writing consistently again, and hearing your voices will be a good motivation for me. So start shouting! :)
I have a nasty habit of burning things on the stove. My particular preference is for milk and rice. I never intend it to happen that way, of course. It just does. Which is something R can never accept, and truth be told, neither can I, because when you set out to do something, you should begin with that sincere commitment to see it through properly. And this includes even rice and milk, which incidentally, are two things that are white. I remark on this as it will have a bearing on this account/confessional a little later.
The fault almost always begins with the fact that I leave the stove on medium and wander off to attend to something else. It is always with the intention to come back quickly to it, but have the process speeded up in the meantime. But this pure intention doesn't take stock of my other essential trait....my forgetfulness. I simply forget that there is rice on the stove, or that the milk is about to bubble over in that most untimely fashion, and only the unique aroma of over-charred remains wafting up the stairs can register the horror of yet another act of negligence.
Sigh. As people, we know how to dig our own graves really well.
As I have hinted at above, this does not go down well with my significant other who sends his disapproval in ether waves, that are strong and just as aromatic as the stuff of the burnings. Egos flare in return, cold wars ensue, and frustrations peak at the inability to get nowhere with it all. Until recently, when a more thoughtful and loving approach was used, with full empathy and humor. Such that even when it stung, the aftermath was one of true introspection and sincere reformation.
He wrote me a mail. With an insight he had had. An analogy, a metaphor, a likening of the whiteness of the milk and the rice to our own character and how it should gleam and sparkle with that whiteness and original state of purity. How the fire lighting the stove, are our desires in this world, fuelling birth after cycle of birth. Turn the flame of desire higher, and you run the heavy risk of burning and charring that character, muddying its original white into a burnt amber, making it an offering unworthy of the Divine. But stoke the fires to just that right level, coupled with your watchfulness and observation, and it will be cooked just right. The end result, being a perfect example of how it should be, a pleasure to every sense we were gifted with. To see, to smell, to taste, to ingest, to digest....
Somehow that did it for me. A surge of the original ego flared as usual, but it was the ego of feeling ashamed of myself. Of knowing that I was still capable of mistakes and to have them pointed out. But I am pleased to announce that whenever I set that milk or rice on the stove now, I morph into this highly indulgent mother hen, clucking and cooing over it every step of the way, knowing when to hold back with some inattention, and when to jump in with every part of me pulsating with sharp and rigorous focus.
The end result : Nothing burned or charred once in the last week. Amen to that.
Sometimes, when you are bowled over by a particular author or illustrator, you tend to go on a rampage of their work, trying to experience as much of it as you can. And along the way, you form some impressions about their unique style, and get a sense of what they like to repeat in their mode of expression.
With Mordicai Gerstein, its his affinity to show his illustrations within a frame on each page, or in multiple smaller frames, almost like a comic, but more unique. Or the way he likes to begin the story even before the formal title page of the book, making it a part of his outline. In A Book, he uses the latter style.
Once, in A BOOK, by MORDICAI GERSTEIN, published by Roaring Brook Press, New York, there lived a family of characters...
...it begins, on the page where you typically find the inset title, publisher information etc. But there's no preliminaries here. It launches right in. The concept, as usual, is stunning. The book is about the characters in the story, who know fully well that they are characters in a story and know that we are readers looking in to their world. Their world begins on a dark page, and it is dark because it is night. And it is night, because the book has been closed all this while. :)
So when we open the book, day breaks and the action begins. A family of 4, the father is a clown, the mother is a fire-fighter, the brother has aspirations for space, the cat that wants to hunt for small things, the dog who seeks interesting odors, and a fish who is looking for the sea. And last but by no means least, our main character, the Girl. The Girl has a serious question for the family at breakfast. Unlike them all, who have their own theories of what the story in the book is about, she does not know, and wants to find out....what's my story?
And off she goes, to the next page, to find out!
The funnest funnest aspect of the book is that it directly recognizes us as the reader, who is peeping into the world of these interesting characters. And in that it just comes alive, beneath your nose and above the lap in which you hold open the book. Its not just a story that you read about, its a live experience, with recognition from both sides....the character and the reader. Another little quirk that you will recognize and be amused by, is the way the text boxes look. They have this nice cute slope downwards which re-emphasizes your own physical position as the reader, looking down, looking in.
So let's go to the next page.
There she met a large goose.
Oops. Can you figure out where this is going?On every page, she meets a set of characters come alive from books and fairy tales of yonder, and situations that could decidedly set the theme for a story. Let's start with the goose. Because she is definitely the funniest. Let me relay their conversation to you.
The Girl :I'm looking for my story Ms. Goose. I don't know what it is.
Ms. Goose :Oh, you'd better find it. Readers like a good story, else they close the book you know.
(Yes, its alright to laugh out loud at this point!)
The Girl :What are...readers?
Ms. Goose :Look up.
And the goose looks up, right into our faces. Winkie and me burst out guffawing at this point. That super comical expression on her face, coupled with our discovery of how intrinsic a role we actually play in this story, just awakened our keenest senses of delight!
The Girl :EEEEK! What's that huge...blobby thing that looks something like a face?
Ms. Goose :That's a reader. And you might want to be careful. It can read everything you say.
Chances are you are doubling up in laughter at all of this, if you aren't too offended with being called a huge blob, that is. :)
And thus it goes to the next page, with Ms. Goose eager to share her story with the girl, and do you know what that is? Can you guess? Its as good as gold, I can tell you that! And on and on it goes, as the Girl meets more fairy tale characters, which Winkie loved guessing, from their appearances and the little verbal clues. But she wants none of it. And races confusedly to the next page, and bumps into a detective, who takes her through the classic elements of a mystery plot. But that's just a little too scary for her. And she moves on.
Alice in Wonderland, maybe? No. Not that. Her name is not Alice.
Pirates and sharks maybe? Nope. Definitely not the pirates. The sharks maybe, because for once, they are the friendly sort who swim her across to the next page.
A historical novel? No, its too much work for her.
Drifting in outer space, with her brother perhaps? Sigh, no. Its all too much for her, and she finally figures out what her story is, and she goes home to dinner. There, she declares that her story is that of a young girl who doesn't know what her story is and so she becomes an author to write her own story. So she writes and writes and writes, until its time for bed, at which point, she looks straight up at us, and asks....
Dear Reader, now that you've reached the end of the book, would you mind closing it please? I'd like to go to sleep. Thank you.
And of course we close the book.
But because of the huge hit it has become in just one reading, Winkie was all set to read it again, and my pleas to let the Girl sleep after her long and confusing day, were not heeded. He dragged her out of bed all over again, for the whole long crazy ride!
How to Paint the Portrait of a Bird by Jacques Prevert Illustration and Transalation byMordicaiGerstein
Ages 6-10
Jacques Prevert was a mid-twentieth-century poet, surrealist, and screenwriter and this original poem of his (Pour fairele portrait d'unoiseau), was transalated into English and illustrated by the magical hand of Caldecott Medalist, MordicaiGerstein.
In essence, it is a "poetic exploration of the sources of creative expression." And a very lyrical, gentle, humorous way of understanding that creating a work of art takes patience, and understanding and a tremendous lightness of being!
A young boy is woken up by the sound of a bird, singing on his windowsill. He is inspired. And he sets out to draw the portrait of the bird. But how do you draw the portrait of a bird?
First paint a cage... with an open door.
Then in the cage, paint something for the bird, something useful and beautiful, but simple.
And while the boy does this, the bird is hovering over him, watching on, and you almost think its going to fly right in to the cage and be a part of his picture. But if it were that simple, this wouldn't be a book!
Then take the picture to a garden ...or a park ...or a forest.
and the bird follows him all through, and you feel the thrill of the question hanging overhead....what is going to happen next?
Will the right natural setting or greens and woods entice the beautiful bird in?
Put the picture under a tree. Hide behind the tree. Don't speak. Don't move.
And thus he waits. Knowing fully well that it could come quickly, or it could take years. Waiting was the key. It really was because you see a visual of it....the boy under the tree is now an old old man, covered in full by cobwebs, still waiting...
But fortunately for us, the fantasy doesn't stretch that far. For the boy is still a boy, and the bird does come in, and when it does, he quietly closes the cage door with the tip of his brush. Me and Winkie felt a visible tension at this point. The bird is caught???? But that's sad!!
And here is where the original poem won me over. Because the boy now sets to erase all the lines of the cage, being very careful of the bird's feathers!
The sharp contrast of the bird against the now plain white background is startlingly beautiful, holding the full weight of the promise that now lies ahead. A tree takes form, then a branch with a pretty perch for her and the green leaves and the summer breeze....the smell of the sunshine and the flowers, and the songs of the bees and the butterflies. And with a picture so complete, he waits for the bird to sing. Its a long wait but when it ends, you can just hear the music. Heck, the music is bursting from within your own heart! The jubilation, the victory, is immense.
At the end of it all, the painting is back in his room, along with all the music and the happiness inside the picture. When the night draws high and the moon shines brightly and the boy is asleep, the bird flies out of the window once more. But before your spirits can dip, there is a promise....that tomorrow, you can paint another one!
That is the poem and that is the book, in its adaptation. And I have to confess that this review was a very hard one to write. I found myself struggling to share what is just so special and a marvel about it. Do I rave about the concept I just witnessed, of indulging fantasy in such a simple allegorical way. Do I talk about the slight disappointment at the sketch of a cage, only to give way to the acute delight of having it vanish from beneath an eraser, understanding that capturing it was never the intent? I don't think I can get over how majestic that bird looked against the plain canvas, waiting for everything that belonged to it. The tree, that perch of a branch, those perfect leaves, all flowing in such tandem with the nature surrounding, that the picture was the background and the background was in the picture and nothing short of the edges of the canvas could interrupt this flow of inspiration!
The overriding feeling of gentleness that pervaded throughout the book, gentleness and patience. Waiting, waiting, waiting....and giving the bird her space, until she was ready to do what she did best...to sing, and to give the joy of song. And after all that, not a ripple disturbed this ocean of gentleness and patience as the bird escaped into the night once more, because tomorrow, you could always paint another one!
It is hard not to be moved by that.
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Some trivia : This original poem by Jacques Prevert, was made into a 15 minute movie in 2007!
And here is an inspired adaptation of the poem, cartoon style! :)
I don't generally write to promote businesses or products or people. Not unless I am specifically moved by something and Sri's photography touches a big chord for me.
We came to know Sri through his wife, who was acquainted with R's family. We met on and off in the early years of our friendship, which inadvertently tapered off when we got busy with Winkie coming on the scene and eventually Thambi as well. But the link was never broken. And even in that short period of time, we got a glimpse of his talent behind the camera lens. He indulged us and the family when they were here, with natural moments of camaraderie, caught as still life and one of those portrait moments that we wouldn't have normally indulged ourselves in. And those are gifts that last for life.
This picture is one of my favorites, and it doesn't even touch the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what Sri can do with a click. It was taken moments after Winkie'sayushomam some 5 years ago, where I had stepped out with the restless little guy to get some air and with the sun shining brightly down on us, it became one of those natural lighting moments, that makes you want to grab it and he did. I never realised that that casual posing then, with more of a concern to shield the sun from our eyes, would end up giving me that pristine moment with my first 1 year old. I love them!
Today, he has taken that huge step to commit to his passion through his new venture Photos by Sri (Chicago baby photographer). He has created an in-house studio in his home, giving him the flexibility of working within. To use an oft used phrase, home is where the heart is, and to enjoin that with his heart and passion, photography, it is not hard to see where the borders between home and work, blur fuzzily into oblivion, making home a passion in itself and his work, a natural flow of his inspired personality. We have not visited this studio yet, and we will in the near future, but in the meantime, I wanted to share this special guy and his intensely special work with you all.
And words can just amount to so much, so let me give you the visual treat of what Photos by Sri can really do! Enjoy the feast for the eyes, and if you are in and around Chicago, or have friends in and around Chicago or Naperville, Aurora, Westmont or any of the neighboring suburbs, this is a great stop to make!
Btw, throwing out a question to you guys:
Do you recognise the lady in the middle with the black top? Let's see who comes up with the answer first!
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