Few Words in My Opinion

I heard conflicting reviews and judgments about Slumdog Millionaire but I was interested to see it, regardless. I wanted to see the movie not because it was nominated for the Oscar, because I know nothing about the measuring bar of the Oscar, nor really am interested in the movie business, competitions and politics.
I like movies, for the stories they tell, for the lessons they teach, for the moments they catch where otherwise I miss. I like movies for the beauty, for the truth, for the options they offer, for the imagination, for the inspiration.

I don't spend much time on movies, but I like good movies.

I wanted to see Slumdog Millionaire because it is about India, about love and really, about sorrows and matters of life.

What I liked in the movie? I liked the children. I liked how in the movie they showed these kids from the slum community who are smart (street smart? who cares!), fast, strong. They don’t have to be liars how some may expect them to be. They are also talented.

I guess, the word slum does not sound that bad when heard, but once seen can haunt one in her dreams. But, these slums have its soul, its heart beat, its love stories, its devotion and passion and victory. Some of slums' battles are won and some are lost.

Once seeing it one almost draws a line of "another" world, different from "own".

Considering that the movie is not a documentary, in my opinion, it depicts very closely the scenarios of life of the slum dwellers. They are not consumed or horrified by the poverty - they live life as it comes - they go to school and get scolded by the teacher (little rascals!), fall in love (yes, that very first love), loose mother in the religious and ethnic riots (face death), get hurt by a betrayal, are being blessed and rewarded, they also get tired and burdened but they also have their joys… and how different are these worlds after all?

I also liked the love line in the movie. Jamal loves Latika! It is beautiful how he "fights" for her; how they find each other and the last dance they dance!

I am amazed and keep pondering at the complexity of Indian character or nature, if I may simplify it that way. I noticed that Indian people are very patient, long suffering, sacrificial... but impatience can be expressed in a very unexpected way...in a horrible bike or car honking, the absence of lines.....

I also thought that the music composition gives a taste of what one hears on the streets or in the rickshaw or a taxi in modern India.

I was touched when the lady on the street who spotted Jamal blessed him, she did not beg for money.

And it brings a knot to my throat and also I smile when I see "all" India keeping their breath, praying, crossing fingers...when one of them wins, or has an accident, or runs a cricket game!

In general, I liked the movie.
But I like the movie Guru the best and it is one of my favorites along with Kannathil Muthamital (A peck on a cheek), Salaam Bombay and Umrao Jaan.

Last Night

I smelled a village last night.
I smelled the very morning kissing the night.
I smelled my childhood.

It is a summer smell of the dry leafs, of the soil and the rain.

Mother To Me

What a blessing it is to have a motherly mother.

She wakes up at night to help.
She cares through the day.
She forgives everything.
She comforts.
She understands.
She takes loads upon herself.
She sacrifices.
She defends her own.
She tells the truth.
Ultimately, she loves.

10

crawling
standing
3 teeth
playing hide-and-seek
eating kasha
Papa fan
ladushki and soroka
_________________
sweet 9 turning 10

My Flowers

астры - меня волнуют, как школьницу перед первым цвонком;
тульпаны - приносят весеннюю радость и нежность;
пионы- напоминают гром, первый летний дождь, начало летних каникул.

About the Beauty

Beauty is behind patience, kindness, compassion, love and forgiveness. It does not hide though, it is very obvious.

Observations

Majority of people like talking. People get intimidated by silence, they feel uncomfortable and create conversations that often have no need of a place, but to ease the silence discomfort people get engaged into verbal exchange.

Try to observe and you will notice that when having a conversation, most people want to talk about themselves, about their problems or success, about their experience, their pain or their happiness.
There is so little room for others.

I am not a morning person.

It is late in the night when I can hear. I can hear my soul and my heart. All the noise of the day, all the troubles of the day give way to this very moment when I can connect with myself, with who I am, where I can better see my fears and doubts, where I can reflect on my choices and values.

It is this early morning, yet deep into the night, when the world on this side of the planet is covered with the dream blanket, I can sit in the room and make some plans, I can dream the future and aspire.

It is this very moment in time, on the verge of a new day, which can bring tears to my eyes. No, I am not a cry-baby, far from it - I am strong- but there is something very tender and sacred and at the same time very home-like feeling, the familiarity of childhood and a gulp of air of the future, not known but to the point of predictable.

These times with myself and the silence as my witness, I can hear a tender voice that is also very familiar to me from my early adolescence, whispering deep into me of my value, of my purpose, of my destiny.

And later in the morning, when the birds start waking up, when the cool of the morning beacons me to bed I leave – starting this new day with a hope, even through the dreams from which I awake later when the prayers are prayed from the mosques, when the chants are chanted from the temples, when the cars make their way to destinations, when the fruit seller shouts – everything announcing the reality, and the necessity of LIFE that rushes through …swiping and absorbing everything on its way, squeezing all liveliness and energy, twisting like a tornado, banging on the walls and as if challenging and testing whether my solitude times and refreshment can stand the pressures of the day’s demand.

Things about me.

I think when I sleep.

Things to Live out

There are a lot of good and great things to write about with plenty posh words , but it is harder to live them out.

Likes

I like strawberry but I don't like neither strawberry yogurt nor strawberry tea.

Two

Like the two banks of a river, ever so close and ever so distant- they can never be together- separated by the waters;

They journey like the train tracks, staying close and yet apart;

Like the sun and the moon, like a day and a night...
Like that mountain that tries to reach the sky...

Like that fish without the ocean...
Like the winter without the snow...
Like the tree without it's leafs...
Like a pond without a frog...
Like a field without its flower...
Like a mother without her child...
Like the desert without the sand...

Like a nomad without his horse,
Like a wanderer without his staff,
Like a poet without his words,

Their worlds...

Of The Past

She could not think but of the days that have passed and hid behind the curtains, where memories seem to be so vague, not clear who was right, whose fault it was of the broken world, pieces of which she still holds dear to her heart.

It did not matter then - because what made sense were the days she could relate, belonged and felt secure. In those memories was her unshaken world where many dreams looked possible, her aspirations achievable and heart in love, it was so simple, so tangible, so real.

She believed she could shelter a thousand after the war, could feed dozens of hungry, comfort orphaned and make smile an outcast.

The End of the Celebrations

Seasonal Reading

I guess The Dancer from Khiva is not a book for this season for me, so I put it aside on the shelf.
Looking for some good reading.

NY

Let the New Year begin!

About Responsibility

Responsibility is not only the matter of duty of the consequences but also very much a subject of a preventative act; it is responsible people who can help their environment to be safe and have the future.

Fate

What a painful fate to be a butterfly on MG Road.

Lotus and Sleep

When the lotus opens up in the morning, I am still asleep.

People

We get through the toughest of life situations. Because we have to.

Thankful

Grandmothers

It seems to me that grandmothers are there to indulge children of their children.
We are waiting.

WHERE IS MY BABY?

Master's and PhD

Housewives and mothers for Master's and PhD.

Family

Family should be a place where each member feels creative, safe and free.

PEACE

“Peace is achieved through dialogue, with conflicts considered, with the realization of one’s mistake and forgiveness available.”

“Peace can be worked out only where humility resides. Humility must be the foundation.”

“Only when you hear me, and when you get a chance to share the deep concerns and motives of your heart, only then we can have peace, considering that acceptance already is given.”

“When the peace is abounding the fields bloom, the hearts rejoice and there seems to be hope for everything, for yet another day.”

“Peace is not something given; we cannot take it for granted. Peace is a work out – we come together and agree to maintain it, even in our differences.”

“What is the cost of peace? Why it should be the hundred thousands of lives? It should be achieved, but not at human costs.”

“The greatest gift is peace. With peace we can go on, even when it seems very hard, we still can bring the change. Peace will enable us.”

“Peace flows out of justice, one should respect the boundary of the other, and those boundaries should help all – to self-realization with best for “the other” in mind.”

“Never undermine human dignity, for when it is violated - peace ceases. It is turmoil.”

“Grant us peace and in peace we will create.”

“If I could have but found - peace of the mind, of the soul and the land. These are my desires.”

Diwali

I have a hard time appreciating the firecrackers.

"Нам дворцов заманчивые своды не заменят никогда свободы..."

Из Бременских Музыкантов

Etty Hillesum

"One should want to be a balm on many wounds."

"Never give up, never escape, take everything in, and perhaps suffer, that's not too awful either, but never, never give up."

"If one finds the strength to deal with small things, one finds it to deal with the large ones as well."

Growing Older

I wish I had someone to teach me how gracefully to grow older.

One Woman Eccentricity

It was long after the midnight when my husband came to bed, all hopeful to finally get to sleep after the day of seeing people, arranging dinner and putting baby to sleep.
When I touch him on the shoulder, he still kindly turns and asks, "What is it?"
"Can we talk?"
"Now?"
"Well, yes. When I talk to you I get to know you better."
"Is it? Well, maybe you can talk to me while I sleep then?"

Hmm...that never occurred to me.
And I thought, "Maybe I should get to know myself better."

Trapped In A Bottle

How true it is when they say that crowds never secure a man from loneliness.
A human can scream and shout for help out of despair, only to be like a beetle trapped in a bottle, where it is left to the horror of its own wounded fate, resembling into the echo of an inevitable death, while the outside, all glittery and gay, passes the pretense of serenity and sanity, outrages upon the simplicity of a sincere heart and desecrates the ideals of purity and charity.

Many of us, at least once, get into a bottle and scream, and some make it out, while others find their resting place inside the suffocating bottle.

The Christ of the Indian Road
by E. Stanly Jones

Parts from the chapter The Concrete Christ. I quote parts of it, the rest you can read in the book.
“Jesus the mystic appeals to India, the land of mysticism. But Jesus the mystic was amazingly concrete and practical. He taught but he did not speculate. He never used such words as “perhaps,” “maybe,” “I think so.” Even his words had concrete feeling about them. They fell upon the soul with authority of certainty.
He did not discourse on the sacredness of motherhood- he suckled as a babe at his mother’s breast, and that scene has forever consecrated motherhood.
He did not discourse on the dignity of labor- he worked at the carpenter’s bench and his hands were hard with the toil of making yokes and plows, and this forever makes the toil of the hands honorable.
As he came among men he did not try to prove the existence of God-he brought him. He lived in God and men looking upon his face could not find it within themselves to doubt God.
He did not argue, as Socrates, the immortality of the soul – he raised the dead.
He did not teach in a didactic way about the worth of children – he put his hands upon them and blessed them and setting one in their midst tersely said, “Of such is the kingdom of God,” and he raised them from the dead.
He did not argue that God answers prayer- he prayed, sometimes all night, and in the morning ‘the power of the Lord was present to heal.”
He did not paint in glowing colors the beauties of friendship and the need for human sympathy – he wept at the grave of his friend.
He did not teach in the schoolroom manner the necessity of humility –he“ girded himself with a towel and knelt down and washed his disciple’s feet.
He did not prove how pain and sorrow in the universe could be compatible with the love of God- he took on himself at the cross everything that spoke against the love of God, and through that pain and tragedy and sin showed the very love of God.
He did not discourse on the beauty of love- he loved.
He did not merely tell us that death need have no terror for us- he rose from the dead, and lo, now the tomb glows with light.
Many teachers of the world have tried to explain everything- they changed little or nothing. Jesus explained little and changed everything.
Many teachers have tried to diagnose the disease of humanity- Jesus cures it.
He did not go into long discussions about the Way to God and the possibility of finding him- he quietly said to men, “I am the Way.””

Rain

This rain, like the unleashed dogs, ran on the streets, biting the passers-by, making them rush and jump over the puddles, all wet.

I like rains, but now I appreciate my warm home and the big French window.

Yes, We Are Ready For The Game!

Thoughts

Like the autumn leaves plucked by the wind from a tree, my thoughts, before they could become words, were thrown into the silence, like the rain wet ground, where they got stuck and never became the creating force, they did not dance that last autumn dance, like the leaves, right before they get stamped on.

No Other Agenda

I think that new-born babies, when they are 2-3 months (and probably for some time), give the most sincere smiles, when they do so, they really mean it; and when they cry - they also really mean it.

Relationship

How important it is to have a good foundation in a relationship.
So the father and the son have it based on a burp. One needs it almost every hour, the other can help with it.
Friends?
Friends!

Small City

I miss the simplicity of a small city.

Family

It is a place where they accept and forgive you, no matter what. You are always welcome there.

P.S. I miss my family.

My Baby

Today I let the sun kiss you on your cheek.
You are our favorite.

I am looking forward to...

Eating chocolates, reading one of the books my sister brought for me, to a good night sleep, and to my baby's smile.

MY FLOWERS

Birthday

My birthday wish this year - to get some nice good sleep.

Responsibilities

Each member of our family received its own strictly defined responsibilities: dad - takes burping walks, grandmother - gives morning baths, mom - feeds.
The whole family is busy.

Our Collection

We did our job of drinking apple juice well, and this is the collection of free containers that we got with each juice pack we bought. I think I finished all juices in Bangalore that had this offer!

Unfolding the Rosebud

It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
God opens this flower so sweetly,
In my hands it will fade and die.

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God's design,
Then how can I think I have wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?

So I'll trust in Him for His leading
Each moment of every day.
I will look to him for His guidance
Each step of the pilgrim way.

The pathway that lies before me,
Only my Heavenly Father knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.

- Helen Steiner Rice

Latest Accomplishment

If someone would ask what is my latest accomplishment I would answer that it is cutting my toe nails over my 37 centimeters tummy.

Rescue

When the stretching and kicking become unbearable - snickers and lemon tart help!

My Luxury

It is a luxury to have four pillows in my bed and to use them all at the same time!
Better nights.