Making sense of the world.
Avinash
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Posts by Avinash
Reena’s Roses
Oct 30th
Reena lay dying of cancer. She and the doctors had put up a fight, yet the malignancy continued to grow. Her days were now numbered.
Although not young, Reena was neither old. Why should her life be cut off so early… and with such excruciating pain? What had she done to deserve this? And where was God? She found herself echoing the words of the psalmist, “Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble? Why have you forsaken me?”
Reena found herself crying out to God for a tangible sign of his love. For assurance that her hand was still in his although she could not feel it. In two more days, she would be celebrating her birthday. How does one celebrate the gift of life in the shadow of death?
Trustingly, she asked her heavenly father for the reassurance she needed. “Send me a red rose for my birthday,” she prayed. Red roses were her favourite. The deep red reminded her of the richness of love, the delicate petals the tenderness, and the fragrance… she just couldn’t have enough of.
Birthdays were now sometimes forgotten. They were no longer the celebrations they used to be. Now, if her brother was in town, he might come over to wish her. Perhaps a couple of phone calls from friends. That’s it. Who would bring her a red rose?
Her birthday dawned, bringing with it an extra touch of pain and loneliness. She could barely remind God of her request, “I need you to reassure me of your love. That’s all I ask.”
From late morning to late evening, a steady stream of visitors filled the day. Suddenly, it seemed as though the whole world had come to know it was her birthday. And unbelievable though it seemed, every one of them brought roses. Not two of three, but whole bouquets. By nightfall, wherever she looked, roses filled her view, and every breath she took was laced with the gentle and exquisite fragrance of extravagant love.
The name has been changed, otherwise this piece is based on a real incident.
Sleepless God
Sep 10th
The clock shows 10.20 in the night. My eyes are drooping after a full day of wakefulness and work. My daughter has exams in another three days, and trying desperately to study. In the 16 flats in my residential building, families are getting ready to sleep. Sandwiched between my building and another residential block is a small time church. Their hall window is about six feet away from my bedroom window and I can look inside their small auditorium and even hear their whispers. The amplifier is full on and a male voice is shouting “Hallelujah!” on the mike. He begins almost in a whisper and builds up to a crescendo. Maybe he thinks God is deaf. I’m told God does not sleep, but human beings do, for that is the way he made them. He made them male and female, and he also made them sleepy at night.
Is spirituality all about high volume hallelujahs? Or is spirituality about common courtesy, about doing to your neighbour as you would have them do to you?
Now they have started loud singing, or what passes for singing. And in the nearby colony, another set of speakers is blasting away. They are treating their deity to Shakira doing waka waka (or is it wakeup wakeup), this time for Africa. I do wish divine blessings on Africa, but for me, this is the time for slumber land. At least this noise will subside before midnight, hopefully. The Church of Maximum Volume will continue, week after week, drowning out the still small voice, and the cries in the wilderness, until the day the Prince of Peace comes and switches off their power.
Earlier in the evening, there was news of another small time American church leader, with a big time title, threatening to burn the holy book of another community. In any civilised and multicultural society, such behaviour should have no place, except in a mental asylum. However, for me right now, among God’s peculiar people, the nocturnal and noisy ones must top the list.
Beyond Blindness
Sep 3rd
I lay frightfully awake past midnight, gripped by a sudden fear of the possibility of going blind. What
had brought on this fear? I don’t know. Maybe an imagination on overdrive, or the awareness of growing age and deteriorating health. The fear was very real and not nice. It took me to the edge of darkness. I could not see myself coping with blindness. So how did those who had actually lost their sight manage? I remembered seeing blind men with sticks boarding Mumbai local trains. I thought of Helen Keller. Yet, the suffocating fear took time to recede.
Two days later I came across Kanchan’s story.
Blind at Eight
Kanchan woke up and rubbed her eyes. She could hear familiar morning sounds, but could see nothing. As she turned her head around, she saw only darkness. She felt her father’s arms around her as he asked, “Did you dream?” That’s when she screamed out in horror, at the realization that she could not see. “I felt the world closing up around me, as if someone had cut the breath of life,” says Kanchan. Initially, her parents could not believe what had happened to their eight-year-old. They took her to specialists in Chennai, who confirmed the diagnosis that Kanchan had a detached retina; the light-sensitive layer of tissue at the back of the eyeball that sent image signals to the brain had failed. She had become permanently blind.
How Not to Become a Web Bakra!
Sep 1st
© Timur Anikin | Dreamstime.com
Homes and offices across the subcontinent are increasingly populated by people afflicted by the S1N1 virus, also called the social networking virus. As usual, there are multiple strains, including resistant ones. Some are harmless and even quite useful, while others can expose you to a choice range of destructive possibilities.
The infected victims can be found sitting wide-eyed and naive in front of computer screens, hyperventilating over their favorite sites, some of which have critical security issues. The excitement could be over who is having coffee and where, to who is going out with whom and when. Pretty innocent stuff really. Except for the presence of another group of netizens, who get even more wide-eyed and hyperventilated, licking their chops and rubbing their palms in gleeful anticipation of catching another bakra.
No? Don’t want to become a bakra? Then check out the following two links to become safer on the net.
http://www.zdnet.com/blog/perlow/personal-computer-security-using-uncommon-sense/13878?tag=nl.e550
http://www.zdnet.com/news/spam-scheme-spreading-via-facebook-chat/461066?tag=nl.e550
Installing LOVE
Aug 22nd
What program are you running in your heart? Here is something I came across some time ago on the net. Don’t know who wrote it, but glad it got written. Enjoy!
Call Centre Rep (CS Rep): Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?
Customer: I want to install love. Can you guide me?
CS Rep: Yes ma’am. Are you ready to proceed?
Customer: Well, I’m not very technical, but I think I’m ready to install now. What do I do first?
CS Rep: The first step is to open your HEART. Have you located your HEART ma’am?
Customer: Yes I have, but there are other programs running right now. Is it okay to install while they are running?
CS Rep: What programs are running ma’am?
Customer: Let’s see. I have PAST-HURT.EXE, LOW-ESTEEM.EXE, GRUDGE.EXE, and RESENTMENT.COM running right now.
CS Rep: No problem. LOVE will gradually erase PAST-HURT.EXE from your operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory, but it will no longer disrupt other programs. LOVE will eventually overwrite LOW-ESTEEM.EXE with a module of its own called HIGH-ESTEEM.EXE. However, you have to completely remove GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM. Those programs prevent LOVE from being properly installed. Can you remove those ma’am?
Customer: Can you tell me how?
Throwaway Babies
Aug 16th
© Marek Kosmal | Dreamstime.com
The morning sun stared down at the rotting heap of garbage, one among millions across the land. A giant rat nibbled at some food, keeping a wary eye on three dogs busy cracking bones nearby. Two hungry crows pecked away at the contents of a bulging polythene bag.
A man in a white dhoti walked by, freshly bathed. He glanced at the heap, and his eyes opened wide. Did he see right? He turned and looked again. There was no mistaking it. A tiny hand stuck out of the filthy mass. And then it was gone, as his steps quickened towards the temple in the distance. The child must have been born at a most inauspicious, star-crossed moment.
A morning walker came along, Nike shoes striding forward. He pinched his nose, looking distastefully at the putrid collection. When would India change? Memories of last week’s trip to the US came back to mind. Then he stopped, shocked. A little infant lay curled up in the garbage. Must be dead. He recalled reading about abandoned babies. A glance at his chronometer told him to keep moving. Not much he could do. Like the garbage heaps, this was another thing about India that will take time to change, if ever. Too bad. And the walker walked on.
The bai stopped and stared. She knew of newborn females thrown away, just like that. Newly arrived, but unwelcome and unwanted. And so, mercilessly dispatched. She remembered a neighbor telling her of someone she knew who had adopted such a baby. One of the dogs was dangerously close to the filth covered infant. Shooing them away, she hurried off to her work of cooking and cleaning. She didn’t want to be late or lose the job. But she hurriedly made a call from the public phone in the corner shop further on.
By the time Babu and his wife arrived on the scene, the dogs were sniffing at the infant. Parking his bike, he shouted away the dogs. He scooped up the infant in his hands. The baby was alive, barely. His wife took the little body and wrapped it in a clean sheet she had brought. Then they sped away.
On India’s 64th Independence Day, the abandoned baby crossed her 22nd month of life. A cute and healthy child, no one looking at her would guess her tragic beginnings. For her foster parents she is one of their own. Anugrah they call her. And as they watch her play with their other children, they offer a silent thanksgiving for the gift of life, and the gift of love.
Lake Kolleru
Apr 23rd
Visit Kolleru Lake if you have an opportunity. Considered as the largest freshwater lake in India, it lies between the Krishna and Godavari rivers in the state of Andhra Pradesh, India. It is connected to the two rivers by over 68 drains and channels. The lake provides a natural habitat for an estimated 20 million resident and migratory birds, including the Grey or Spot-billed Pelican. Egrets, Grey Herons, Painted Storks and Black-headed Ibises flock in thousands to this beautiful wetland.
The lake attracts huge numbers of migratory birds from northern Asia and Eastern Europe between October and March. Resident birdlife includes Grey pelicans, Asian Open-billed Storks (Anastomus oscitans), Painted Storks (Mycteria leucocephala),Glossy Ibises, White Ibises, Teals, Pintails, Shovellers. The migratory birds include Red-Crested Pochards, Blackwinged Stilts, Avocets, Common Red shanks, Wigeons, Gadwalls and Cormorants, Garganys, Herons, Flamingos, among others.
SOURCES: www.wwfindia.org / en.wikipedia.org
What Women Say
Apr 14th
According to one old website there are some things that only women understand. Such as a cat’s facial expressions, the need for the same style of shoes in different colors, the difference between beige, off-white and eggshell, the inaccuracy of every bathroom scale ever made, and of course, the number one thing that only women understand: other women.
Strangely, that website has disappeared from cyberspace, but thankfully, women and men are still around. And that makes the world an interesting and humorous place. There’s this man who told the love of his life, “I would go to the end of the world for you.” She replied, “But would you stay there?” He no longer uses that line, but hasn’t given up yet. Instead, he tried what he thought was a more hep approach: “Hey baby, what’s your sign?” He got an instant response: “No entry!”
Some see it as a battle of the sexes, while others see it as good fun. Certainly, a sense of humor goes a long way to keep it cool. But in the heat of the moment, things get said that makes it hard to keep a straight face. Here’s a sampling.
“You see a lot of smart guys with dumb women, but you hardly ever see a smart woman with a dumb guy.” Erica Jong
“Behind every successful man is a surprised woman.” Maryon Pearson
“I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career.” Gloria Steinem
“I never married, because there was no need. I have three pets at home which answer the same purpose as a husband. I have a dog, which growls every morning, a parrot which swears all afternoon, and a cat that comes home late at night.” Marie Corelli
“I think – therefore I’m single.” Lizz Winstead
Inconsiderate Neighbours
Feb 16th
The clock shows two hours past midnight. Sleep has been driven away by the incredibly intrusive noise coming in as though an insane, riotous crowd is screaming and yelling, inches away from my ears. Sounds like a bunch of crazed men with some kind of drum, high on alcohol or some other crazy stuff, screaming into a microphone with the amplifier full on. How can this happen in a civilized country? How can good, cultured human beings behave like this? Is there no law, no regulation?
Earlier, the entire day had exploded with loud banging, screeching power tools and rumbling construction machinery. A residential building takes shape inches away from my balcony. There’s no room to spare. No space nor time is sacrosanct. Everything can and is violated, mostly in the name of God, whom men have reduced to a rubber stamp to justify their evil.
I read that a court ruled that silence constitutes cruelty in marriage. What about this? Maybe there are spouses who are similarly insensitive, loud and aggressive. Maybe there is nothing there to say? What can you say to people like this? What about God’s cruel silence in the face of all the filth being done in his name? Some would say we need to realise the divine spark within. What if the inside is full of crap? We have been trying to realise that divine self for thousands of years and still remain pretty much near the bottom of the heap on human behavioral indicators.
Change Your Stripe
Feb 9th
What do you think? We have PhDs managing the country. We have endless news coverage and talking heads. We have more institutions of learning now than at any other time in history. We have MBAs and MTechs running our businesses and factories. We have achieved unprecedented economic growth, and a place in the limelight. We cry ourselves hoarse about how wonderful we are, and how our ancient culture is overflowing with spirituality and gurus and what nots. And that a glorious future belongs to us, as a glorious past supposedly did.
Time to take a reality check.
We have found water on the moon, but are unable to accurately assess the extent of poverty in the country, or maybe we don’t want to.[i] Too inconvenient and embarrassing.
India spends less than five percent of the annual budget on children.[i] Try spreading that over 447 million people below 18. More than half a century after Independence, the percentage of underweight children under 3 is still high, at 46 per cent. An estimated 50 per cent of our children are malnourished. Recent news indicates that we have managed to push our children to the brink of despair, with 26 juvenile suicides reported in four weeks in Mumbai. All this and much much more, inspite of having good policies and schemes in place. Thing is, these are useless without good people.
Compare that with the military budget of a country that was led to independence by the apostle of ahimsa.