Saturday, March 26, 2016

Sounds of Summer

Sitting in the last vestiges of
my childhood winter garden
Sound of coo-woo reverberates around.

The cry of koel
Reminds not only of Summers
But also of examination season
Of School and then College.

Of anxiety and trepidation
Sometimes panic,
That mind may go blank.

Was it fear of failure
Or of moving up one step
on the ladder of Life?
That unexplainable feeling...
When I look back today.

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Summer Song

The all too brief spell of Spring
After the not too cold Winter,
Gives way to the heat of Summers.

The dying flowers of winter
And the Shalmali
Spread their last burst of colours.

The brightening sunshine
And the golden yellow of Amaltas
The flaming red-orange of Gulmohar
Herald the way to Summers.

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Festival of Colours

Colours of love and joy, not of hatred
Colours of harmony, not of blood
Colours of spring and summer
Spread happiness in our lives.
Happy Holi

Sunday, March 8, 2015

I am a Woman!

On International Women's Day, it is sad to see messages justifying the reason for being a woman.  Especially since in India Devi is worshipped in most corners of the country. As an Adi-Shakti, she epitomises the essence of Shakti herself, she represents consciousness, and she is the symbolism of Prakriti. She is Ardhnari without whom the male is void.

This is the country where girl child is worshipped as Kanjika, where various avatars of women are worshipped as conserver of forest, as the harbinger of wealth and knowledge, as the protector for natural calamities or epidemics, or as benevolent mother who protects all.

And today, the role and existence of women is being questioned. Are women only to be used as tools of recreation and procreation? Is our only duty is to manage household, children and sometimes contribute to family fund?

It is disheartening to open the newspaper in the morning and read of daily stories of torture. I have heard of similar such stories in my own home as well.

On this International Women's Day, can women/ girl-child of this country have the freedom and liberation from age-old notions of women hood? Can we freely roam around in our own country at any time of day? Can we fall in love and marry the person we want to? Can we freely speak our own mind without any inhibitions? Can we eat, drink or smoke without being labelled as something? Can we wear clothes we look good in, are comfortable in and not get stereotyped into some category?

I am a woman and am proud to be so. I don't need a special day to celerate my being. But on this Women's Day, I demand from my country to be treated as equal with men in all strata of society.

If this is feminism, let it be so,
Pooja

Thursday, January 1, 2015

I Wish...

Peace, happiness and joy ... Simple wishes for 2015!

I wish for all ...

For a tolerant world. Let's be compassionate.

For religious tolerance. Let religion be inclusive.

For safety of women. Against physical violence or mental harassment.

For cleaner environment. We owe it to us.

For terror free society. Irrespective of caste, creed, religion or gender.

For a better world and future this year.

With an eternal hope,
Pooja
January 1, 2015

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Lucky 13!

13 years and a long journey ... An address book with 1500 plus names, some acquaintances, some crossing that invisible line to become friends. Adding to the ever expanding encyclopedia of mind and heart, creating new memories on the way! 

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing...
So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another....

Today marks the anniversary of the journey that I started 13 years ago - from Banaras to Bombay and I complete a full circle sitting in Mumbai today facing the vast Arabian Sea from the hotel window. 


It has been a rollercoaster ride, have had moments of fun as well as pain, have met some really wonderful people on this journey. 

Thank you Friends for your love, support, guidance as I continue walking,
Pooja
December 17, 2014

Saturday, September 6, 2014

To Teachers, With Love!

My first memory of a teacher is of my Grandmother, when I was not even 3 yrs old. She was the one who taught me alphabets, numbers and colours. Whilst some of the memories have faded away, what I do remember is that when I went for my nursery admission interview, I already knew alphabets, and could write my name. And that teaching was done, staring out of a first floor window, facing the street, watching the world, or rather the traffic, go by. That was my favourite place. It was the days when ikka or tonga used to ply passengers, there were bicycles, few scooters, fewer buses and almost no cars. There was no brown colour in my vocabulary, so it was white horses or red horses. The matras in Hindi alphabets either faced right or left, I had by then mastered right and left directions. Lot of it was taught while having food, she feeding me, I throwing the spoons down the window to the grounds. She was my first teacher, and she had loads of patience. 

However, once the school started, my mother took over the responsibility of making sure homework was completed every day. And I think we both learnt together ... I, the course and she, the patience. (She would need many more chapters to do due justice to what she means to me in my life.) Moving to higher classes, my father mentioned lot of times of teaching me himself, but except for few sessions, chapters of science, it really didn't happen. He however made sure he taught me bicycling starting from trainer ones, to two wheels child cycle to a fully grown up cycle. In later years, even the scooty. And I learnt from him to stand up for the truth always, and not give up even in adverse circumstances!

The transition from primary to secondary school brought a new teacher in my life ... My masi. She taught me English, Hindi, Social Sciences, Maths and even Sanskrit. Looking back, I wonder she knew so much, I think I would not be able to attempt to teach even one subject to anyone. And lot of discussions and revisions happened while waiting for the school bus in the morning. She is the only one who also taught me formally at college, when I had Geography as one of my subjects. It was a very different and difficult to be present in the class knowing her so intimately and yet remaining aloof. We managed the two years by she not calling my name out any time during the class except for the roll call. And she stayed away from the examination and evaluation process for the two years I had Geography as the subject.

Moving back to secondary school, I had met lot of teachers who knew either my mother or my masi, 35 plus years of teaching in the same city does that to its residents. Many of them continued to excel in their subjects and had an impact on me. I remember them with fondness today on Teachers' day! 

One of the teachers who I can never forget was my English teacher in probably class 8 or 9, and that too for a short period. She used to only take higher classes, and took few classes with us as substitute teacher for absent ones. My love and interest for the subject came because of her. Being taught almost my whole school life in government schools, English was not the medium of choice. I could have learnt English at home, the language being my mother tongue ... My mother is convent educated by English nuns and is a English professor 😉... But it didn't happen. Call it fate or destiny, I picked up English speaking because of her; painstakingly reading newspapers, forcing myself to think in the language rather than translating before speaking, writing as I was thinking instead of learning it by heart. And by the time, I finished Class 10 and changed schools, I was proficiently speaking, talking, writing, walking English! 

Class 10th in my times, was generally torturous, primarily because of hype and pressure surrounding it.  Two of my weakest subjects in the class were Economics and Maths. While I was glad to say goodbye to maths after Boards, Economics followed me till MBA, including two of my major degrees in the subject, I don't joke when I say I mastered Economics! My support system to take me through these two subjects in these terrible times was my two mamajis.  My elder mamaji was an Economics professor and had written simple books in Hindi on the subject which were lot easier to undertstand than the language the teachers spoke. And while my Maths teacher helped me quite a lot, the credit for my first class in the subject in Class 10 goes to my other mamaji.  I don't remember the circumstances of why he was in Banaras that time, but he made me revise the whole course before the Board exams in a very simple way. My grandmother was amazed that at no time, he raised either his voice or temper while explaining the concepts to me. She remembered him taking a very different route with his children in their times! I guess the only time I enjoyed the subject in my life was in those 15 days with him. 

The graduation years was equally difficult, I knew almost all the teachers because my mother and my masi taught in the same college. It was difficult to bunk classes, the information would eventually flow down to them. And there was no chance to sit around with classmates and gossip about teachers or the college either. I guess compared to others around me, my college life was pretty boring. 

And so was post- graduation, being in the same campus, there was no escaping the fact that there was a line to be toed since your teachers were colleagues to your parents, and there was a reputation to mange and hold. However, there have been few teachers who have contributed to what I am today, have been responsible for my education and my beliefs. Thank you. 

In the last 13 years of my career and 3 and half decades of my life, I have had many bosses, colleagues and some friends. Some were completely forgettable, erasable; some have lingered on the memories - bitter-sweet experiences; for some I have loads of respect and some have become close friends and confidants. All of you have made difference to my life in some way or other, taught me some of life's lessons, have been responsible in making me what I am today ... My good and bad sides combined. 

So on this day, Happy Teachers' Day to the first teachers of my life, my grandmother, my parents, my masi and to all those who have crossed my path in their various avatars and with whom I continue my learning journey.

In gratitude,
Pooja
September 5, 2014