Saturday, 27 February 2010
The story is of a young girl who's forced to work in the spirit world to rescue her parents who were turned into pigs (they ate all the food kept for the spirits without asking). The story is light and entertaining yet with a lot of moral fiber - about being loyal, being loving, selfless and giving. Before she was taken to the spirit world bathhouse (where tired spirits come to revive themselves, lol) she was just an ordinary sulky child, but she rises in difficult circumstances to learn her true capacity.
It's about a restless Mr. Fox who attempts to steal from 3 of the biggest farmers in the neighbourhood. He manages that fine, but brings down the biggest foxhunt on their woods. All the animals are forced underground and rally around Mr. Fox to try and outsmart the farmer posse. They do.
I have to say British and American anime fall far short of the eastern storytelling techniques simply because they lack any ethical or moral background. The characters do wrong, and then win. Or they do it for something terribly material, like food or money, and suffer the consequences of fighting for those limited resources, superficial stuff that doesn't interest me.
It was Friday the day of the village shanty, one can get any thing from a bamboo basket , fruits and vegetables,to a sickle or a t- shirt.The vendors reach their regular places and unpack to start selling before the sun gets to slacken the sales.
I had gone to pick up coconuts, and chanced to notice an old lady, sitting with the dried up Ridge Gourds as her wares.
I had been using them as scrubbers, and when I could not get them regularly switched to no scrubbers.
These are a variety of ridge gourds which are left in the plant itself to dry.
The initial scrubs can be rough, but they get softer with every next bath, all the seeds get released and later only the webs of the vegetable are left, letting the body have a soft vegetably good bath.
The basil powder, and this scrubber, make a great combination for a refreshing bath.
So there lies the scrubber on the bathroom rack turning itself into a coir, with every bath to be replaced by the next scrubber soon.
Friday, 26 February 2010
The story is of a prince in ancient Japan who gets cursed by a demon, a wounded boar-god. He's leaves his village to seek the cause of the hate and witnesses an epic battle between a beleagued forest and it's dwellers, tree, beast and god, and an industrial town called Irontown.
He tries to intervene, but finds it impossible to change the rage and hate created by man's destruction of Nature. He falls in love with a girl raised by wolves and tries to prevent Eboli, the Ironlady, from killing the fabulous magical Forest Spirit. But the ambitious woman knows no fear and almost destroys everything even her Irontown in the process.
Though I loved the whole breathtaking movie, I found the story weakened by the fighting and unresolved conflict between Culture and Nature. Too many directions left open, hopefully to cover in subsequent movies (yippee!) I'm almost tempted to write some screenplay to mail to Miyazaki.:p Such a fascinating story - a must see!
The recent episode of a killer whale killing an animal trainer at sea world, is again a reminder that, if man humiliates an animal and kills it, it is GAME, but when it retaliates it is called as DISASTER.
Keeping the animals confined in a space is horrid. I can’t even stand restriction for a limited time in a closed space, so I can imagine one which had the whole sea, to be claustrophobed in a water tank.
I am one who is against animal experiments, vivisection and animals acts, at circuses, and on the streets, like the bear, the elephant,and the monkey show .
I am all for the acrobatic skills of humans , but not sharing the stage with the animals.
In the pharmaceutical world the animals are used for testing when a new drug is developed, I see no reason why they should be used as guinea-pigs.
Are rats and guinea-pigs humans, or are we rats, in this rat racing world?
I know I am in love…
When I find it challenging to stay away from him.
I know I am in love…
When I always want to see him smiling
In spite of all the reasons he gave me for crying.
I know I am in love…
When my signature always gets modified
To fit in the first letter of his name.
I know I am in love…
When my phone is always on silent mode
And I hopelessly check it every two minutes
Jus’ to realize that he hasn’t called.
I know I am in love…
When I long to be in his arms all the time
And I look for chances to get close to him.
I know I am In love…
When he stares down at me
And I shy away from looking into his eyes,
Even though that’s the only thing I ever wished.
It is when he kisses me on my cheeks,
That my heart says, “I know I am in love…”
I know I am in love…
When we argue for small- small things
Because sometimes that’s the only way I can talk to you.
I know I am in love…
When you recharge my cell and come with me wherever I have work
Because even you want to talk to me that much.
I know I am in love…
When you take interest in my family matters
And I in yours.
I know I am in love…
When I do 100 comic things
Jus’ to see the smile on your face when you’re angry
Irrespective of whether I am or not the cause of it.
I know I am in love…
When you talk about other gals
Not knowing that deep inside I am feeling,
This burning sensation of jealousy.
I know I am in love…
When nights go by
Talking over the phone.
I know I am in love…
When you make me feel like a princess.
And when you take this extra care of me,
When I just have a minor cold.
I know I am in love…
While I am writing this poem.
All I don’t know is…
Are you in love?
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
This movie relieves some of the stress of the fighting with humour - a terrific eastern touch bollywood has used for years.
But it lacks the depth of Enter the Dragon and like most patriotic movies, it's more meaningful for the occupied than anyone else - what a deep impression territorial aggression makes on the aggressed! Unforgettable because domination is unforgivable.
Friday, 19 February 2010
I feel trapped…
In this never ending vicious cycle of love.
It moves so quick…
It never seems to freeze.
When I fell in love with you…
I got bitterly hurt.
When I got inconsolably hurt…
I began to master the skill of hating.
When I mastered hatred…
I strived to forget you.
The more I struggled to forget you…
The closer I got to missing you.
When I started missing you,
My worst fears had come true…
All over again… I was in love with you!
And so, this ongoing painful love cycle…
Never seems to halt…
Never seems to end…
Thursday, 18 February 2010
When the dreams seemed so true,
When the sky looked all blue,
When the smile; on my cheeks transformed into blush,
I knew you were my crush!
I thought for hours about you,
And still the hours seemed to be so few,
When every second we were apart, stroke me like a knife,
I came to know you were my life!
I wandered next to the sea,
Jus’ like around the flowers wanders the honey bee,
I looked naively at the stars,
And I knew you were my prince that came from mars!
I am the dreamer of dreams,
And my love for you flows like a stream,
I am in that stream, like an innocent dove,
Who would bestow on you, all her love!
Today is the day; I’d love to be yours,
With your love I would want to get lured,
Happiness would be the sign…
If you would, “Be My Valentine?”
The words were very clear from the magician,” it is all a deception do not try to think how it is done, just enjoy it”.
That is what I did for the next hour, wide-eyed, clapping, shrieking, gulping, and gaping and more words of expressions.
It was a get–together of families of rural professionals at a star hotel, it was organized to cheer up the glum kids while the elders were to have a small meeting.
I found myself a place in the front row among the kids.
The magician started to pull out things from inside an empty hat, and made a wand out of a sheet of tissues, made two balls out of one and that into four in front of our eyes at his fingers, good lord where did they come from?
He started to pull out cards from thin air and made them disappear; it looked like he had an invisible genie at his disposal, as part of the act.
The rings and the card trick caught me as a participant, it was sheer fun.
How well the gimmicks are performed to make impossible things seem to happen.
It is never good to ask a magician to do an encore, as they are not ready for it, but the continuous flow of events made us forget the last trick.
Most of the tricks are a kick to the mind, the laughter in between, and the loss of time and space make it a meditation by itself.
The whole world we live in is Magical, we seem to take it for granted and have less of our senses for them and feelings.
From sunrise to another sunrise it is a magic show, may we spend more time in enjoying it than loose ourselves always in demystifying Nature.
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
There has been a lot of controversy recently in
Genetically manufactured organism variety of brinjals are being studied to be cultivated for the Indian market by the Monsonto company, they have been debated and the cooked up results accepted , but later rejected, stalled.
I hope the awareness stays and the dirty political minded ones get a good kick up the butt,
Like the Monsonto ones got recently from inside the company by Mr Jagadisan of
The local variety of egg plants are a favorite in our place, many a dish is prepared for the welfare of the present generation and future generations to come, as they say it cares for that system.( I had always thought that is why the name has been selected as it helps in the women folk lay the eggs correctly).
There are a variety of dishes prepared with the brinjals that there is no day without a dish using them in our place.They go great with the drum stick sambar .The drum sticks have been drummed as one which increases libido, ding that, they do more things above the waist, and general welfare of the person, than just that and mind games.
I hope we continue to get our original vegetables for a long time to come.as this is the basic of our rights to living- unadulterated natural products from Mother Nature.
Monday, 15 February 2010
Bruce Lee forever broke the image of the subservient non-white/chinese who was usually depicted as foolish, cowardly, grovelling and dependent. Lee beat white men with a better technique and philosophy. He was smaller, fiercer and more righteous than the Hollywood cowboys and plastic stars. In the world of men, he was a legend by 30, a hero beyond his time - there can never be another martial artist like him in the movies.
Marilyn Monroe fought the image of a 'blonde bimbo' for years, a traditional hollywood stereotype of a helpless, silly, easy, dependent, low-IQ-but-chirpy woman. Most of her scripts included the line "I'm not very bright".
She always played the helpless role sarcastically to perfection as a platinum airhead (most women can see the exaggerated pained artifice). It protected her spirit, but she wanted the world to want the real woman she was - ambitious, intelligent, shrewd and courageous. She epitomized blondeness to the extent that there can never be a blonder 'bimbo' than her in the movies (for all the men who were taken in: guys, she was born brunette.:).
Both had remarkable bodies that let them down, as both died mysteriously very young.
The story is of a shaolin monk, Bruce Lee, who has a duty to perform for his monastery - to bring a corrupt monk called Han to justice. He does it without emotion, such a remarkable break from traditional 'heroes'. The thriller has a remarkable cast of black, white and yellow actors even though it was mostly shot in Hong Kong. Most people recall it as one of the best international films ever created.
Fight aficionados must have watched it over and over again to remember the famous "The style of no style" zen-like martial artist quote [which later evolved into Jeet Kwan Do, the first MMA - mixed martial arts, with which Bruce Lee is credited, and the Freerunning movement].
However, my entire childhood memory of the revolves around the female figures (which is now obvious to me were not central, but then women see movies differently looking for their own meaning). The greatest shock of my childhood was when Bruce Lee's sister killed herself with a piece of glass to save her 'honour' - until then I didn't think women had to kill themselves, and the other compelling images that I recall is of the woman washed up with heroin scarred arms and a bunch of them locked up in glass boxes as guinea pigs for addiction. I also remember clearly when John Saxon saved the cat from the guillotine. (The rest is a blur of fighting and artificial claws on men.:)
Tennis is a peaceful game.
The umpire starts the game with “love all”
Let your imaginations have one of the other genders as the players in my wordy game.
The game by itself brings out the best in the person, the partner, the aces they make, the long duels, drop shots and runs to the edge of limits in stretching. The smashes and the lobs all practiced with skill at other places, get to be courted here.
The skirts getting higher and the colorful bands and hair do’s a distraction, adds to the thrill of the game.
In real life too the partner can be the only one who can bring out the best in us, how ever we may have learnt skills and strategies the real love game happens at home with our partner, the courting as the court.
We may start with an ace of a bouquet, or the other vollies of sweetness, every game is different and every set a thriller, the game is played not to win a trophy, but for the sheer thrill of bringing out the best in us, wining the heart of the player is the ultimate that happens by itself.
The evening sun was setting on the western sky, it was captivating from the hillock near our kids school. The music was drifting from the school and the flags fluttering in the breeze from the high buildings were visible from a distance.
The setting was for the school prize night celebration. Our son was very particular we make it on time if we wanted a choice seat and did not want to miss any of the events.
The chief guest was punctual to the time on the invitation card, he was ceremoniously received by the school band and escorted to the parlor for refreshments.
All the parents were with their wards all costumed and cosmetic painted for the cultural acts.The make shift stage was open on all sides and coir matted for the floor and cuts out of school emblem and words of encouragements for the backdrop,the audience were chaired on the playground amidst security arrangements.
The guest and other dignitaries were welcomed on stage .The principal read out the annual report ,sharing the activities of the calender year, stressed more on extra curricular activities and achievements and encouraging the students and teachers to do much better.
The guests all spoke words of encouragements and praises for the school and its staff.
A few past students had come to see the Alma Mater in all its grandeur and even offered a cash prize for the best over all student.
Prizes were awarded to achieving students and staff members .
The cultural events were very patriotic and touching on family bonding, it allowed most of the students to have a part on stage.
We were tapping to the beats of jai ho and vandhe mataram of A R Rehman.Micheal Jackson was remembered by a song dance sequence to commemorate him and his team.
The kids and staff seem to have much more than they seem to have. It was a feeling of a family event .
We all returned home after the village slept to a late night dinner and bed.
Saturday, 13 February 2010
The future generations to come, will study our culture from the surviving clay pots and the indestructible plastics, with their archeological findings, most other things will get turned to dust from the accumulation of the nuclear missiles in the military cupboards, when brought to use against one another.
Let us at least hope one of us finds a way to bio degrade the plastics before we get to cover ourselves with the junk we make of them .
Many a middle class family has seen shifts from a state of malnourished slimness to affluence obesity, and cultural cuisine borders are being de-fenced with the information sharing and mingling of folks.
We recently had a chance to see a potter at the village market who guided us into clay pot cooking .we bought three pieces and tried out simple recipes, from our daily menus.
The food gets to be evenly cooked and the food stays warmer for a longer time and I am sure the nutrition part of the food is maintained.
We have tried wheat uppuma and mixed vegetables in the curry and in the dry forms,
Vegetable soups, dal and chenna. We are leaning to innovate more varieties to bring out the best in the food and less loss of its nutrients in them.
Try and share your tastes and satisfactions. Am sure u all have specialities,winning the appreciation of the family and the health care of all at home.
Friday, 12 February 2010
Ellampillai has been invaded by a troop of monkeys, they seem to like our food and timidity.
I was sitting at the verandah of my work station with the western building shading me from the afternoon sun , the swaying anaconda palms inviting a breeze, I was letting my imaginations wander.
It was at this time a monkey with a rope tied to the waist, ( must have been a prisoner to a human) walked along the rails just a few feet away from my face, it was a stunning shock, it stopped for a split second and then moved on to treat it self to the anaconda berries.
Many a child and an elderly person has been raided of their eatables and bitten for their generosity in the hand or face.
My mom noticed one person, who had got fresh vadais from a shop opposite our home, come to sit at our tree shade to relish them, when the monkey got on top and sat on his shoulders, he quietly gave away his snacks, it left his shoulders for the safety of the branches.
About three of the troop, have been rid off and the remaining have decided to escape from the catchers ,to stay as our guests, stealing the lunch boxes of the unwary workers, terrorising the children and all alike.
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
Our food world has been taken over by a chemical called aginomota.
Ever since it has been discovered of its original form by a Japanese scientist, and turned over with its artificial look alike chemical cousin the food industry has gone beserk.
This chemical is a cheat on the taste buds, and a trick on the satiety centre.
It gives a kick to the taste buds which cannot express its feelings in words or its umami taste.and a non stoppable eating habit, changing the contour of the eater, and a money spinning ingredient to the food company.
I wonder how the medical world has been bye passed of this chemical, getting itself into medicines and food supplements, with hide and seek sort of multi name changing forms.
All the medical specialities will surely have this chemical playing havoc with the fight against many diseases of their field,if we dig deep to find its way of destroying our bodies and mind.
The common village house hold is being taken over with this for simple preparations to win the taste factor of the home, and for the left overs to be eaten with relish.
There are those who live on packed and tinned foods, a hint to look in the ingredients list, the many names of aginomoto.
Hydrolyzed Vegetable Protein
Hydrolyzed Plant Protein
Plant Protein Extract
Textured Protein (Including TVP)
Hydrolyzed Oat Flour
Natural Beef Or Chicken Flavoring
The worst part is it is being allowed to be advertised.
Sunday, 7 February 2010
While we're on the subject of heavenly bodies, here's Bruce Lee. For someone who'd made just 4 movies and died before the release of Enter the Dragon, his impact on the world is phenomenal.
This documentary covers the life of Bruce Lee in view of his impact across the world and across all ages. How Tarantino to John Woo, rappers and bodybuilders, are still doffing their hats at one of the fittest men the world has ever seen (just look at that body!:p)
I want to review all his movies and the one tv serial he did. Enter the Dragon was the first movie I saw in my life and it's remained in my memory (probably why I took up Krav about 3 decades later. lol). Lets see if the movie still makes an impact on me. This documentary is very good, if you're into cinematic history. [The statue is in Kowloon, Hong Kong. There's an 18-ft one coming up in China.]
Saturday, 6 February 2010
You can see she's at the peak of her physical beauty (she does a nude swimming scene ...:o), but mentally and emotionally she's exhausted. Sleep deprivation, drugs to help her sleep and stay awake, alcohol and depression had taken over. By this time her personal life in shambles. Either that or she wanted to get out of the slave-contract she was on without much fuss.
Friday, 5 February 2010
Two musicians witness a mob shooting in Chicago and are on the run disguised as women. The slapstick comedy was a little heavy going for me, not to mention the insistent background music which can give me a headache. I watched it through to the finish for Marilyn's work.
Not worth a watch - it's too noisy. But she's awesome in black & white.
In this movie, Marilyn plays the comedienne - her favourite acting style. She's as blind as a bat and dumb as a blonde, but she shows off her magnificent body to perfection.
The girls want to marry millionaires and hire an expensive apartment to get the right location. They all fall in love, not with money, but with men. A very light-hearted comedy with fabulous clothes. Well worth a watch, not at all dated.:)
Marilyn's is probably the second most-recognised face after Mona Lisa in the history of images. For a month now, I've been fascinated by the transformation of Norma Jeane (left) to Marilyn Monroe (right).
Though she played the 'dumb blonde' to a T, she was a brunette. She was very intelligent and successful in giving the visual male what he wanted to see - John Kennedy (president), Bobby Kennedy, Arthur Miller (author, activist) and Joe DiMaggio (baseball superstar) were all in love with this woman. Everything from her breathy voice to her smile and walk (she cut one heel lower to sway better) was pure artifice.
No woman has probably worked harder at her image, since or after. She had a drama coach watch and correct her every move for the 15 yrs she crawled up the sordid Hollywood production chain until the top. She earned every bit of her fame the hard way - living with severe stagefright, suicide attempts and abortions, miscarriages and divorce - the true road of fame and fortune is a tough master.
There's always a story to such driving ambition: She was brought up in foster homes as her mother struggled with mental illness and never knew a father. She was repeatedly assaulted as a child, worked at a factory as a nobody and was constantly drunk or on uppers and downers through most of her adult life. She only came alive in front of the camera and an audience - otherwise she was an uncertain, hesitant, dull alcoholic.
Like Princess Di, she couldn't get enough love to fill up the void. One masseur said that her body was electric with energy like no one he'd ever touched. So, whether we like it or not, some people are larger-than-life from another level.;) I'm going to review 3 of her movies.
Thursday, 4 February 2010
Who is not ready to mingle;
Leaving me out single,
You make me feel horrible.
Yes, I did cry,
But I’m sorry I made you sigh.
I realize the mistakes I have done,
And I hold you responsible for none.
‘Coz without you I am absolutely undone.
All I say is “I am really sorry!”
But I never intended to put you in worry.
It tasted just like wine.
Thinking about it makes my face shine,
But… what’s the point if you’re not mine?
I still remember when I thanked God, for the gift in you,
I was in a relation completely new.
You thought it was a mistake, I never knew,
But… how would I know, you gave me no clue?
I can still feel that breath-taking kiss,
I will for sure remember this,
And will always have a reason to miss,
But… tell me how can I forget all this???
At a junction on the main road into our village,one can see the coconut vendor who has tied his wares on a bicycle.
The health conscious ones are at his side on the mornings , quick to get their normal drink, while he sips on a hot tea from the opposite tea shop.
I have been told by the elders of the religious kind, who had ears to ones like them, that if God had a choice to make of all his creations and had to finalize his desire for nourishment, he would finish at tender coconuts.
Many a poem has been written on the glories of coconuts, songs sung from tree tops, just a few words more on them.
There was once a question from a kid at a school meeting during a health awareness class, “sweets give us a cold and coconut water gives us a cold, u see any difference?”
I found that to be one of the most ingenious questions asked of me,I took that as a clue to discuss the qualities of a natural product and the similarities to an adulterated misfit, differentiating them with the results of similarities.
Tender coconuts are still economical around here at 5 Rs a nut or 3 for Rs10 depending on the green or the red variety The greens are mineral rich and the reds are the energetic glucose types, I have heard, to some how please a drinker with the natural fluid.
It may sure sound bad taste to promote a God given gift at times of the modern tinned, bottled, paper packed drinks, with such a lot of advertising gimmicks, but I sure like to take my side of stand with Nature’s drink ,than side with the chemical combinations that come out of drink machines, who haven’t found a look alike drink against the tender coconut water yet.
For those who have heard or tried out fasting, of the therapeutic or the religious kind, (not the political ones) most break the fasts with coconut water , wonder how much we need to study to understand the effects of this natural drink.
It is customary in this region if u pay a visit to the farms, they still offer u fresh coconuts with out a straw, but with lots of warmth and affection, to cool a hot body on a summers day.
Wednesday, 3 February 2010
I was letting myself to be one with nature and suddenly I lost myself in the air.
It was quite a while, until I found myself sucked in by a vacuum pump and pushed into the confines of a foot ball.
Of all places a Foot ball!
Maybe It was a special ball as I was not kicked around much , just fondled, appreciated , thrown up and bounced around, may be they were saving me for a match .
The D day had arrived, the referees made an inspection of me with other cousin foot balls, finally deciding to place me at the centre of the field.
I was initially soft touched at the sound of the whistle and found myself kicked around,Passed to members of the same team, just pushed along at my own pace, at other times, toed, tapped and dodged between feet, balanced on head,thighs, chest and ankle with out being allowed to touch ground.
The kicks were not really difficult to bear as I was soft padded, but being pushed out this way and that way and chested and headed and bullied to suit them selves was horror.
There were times I ran out of control to the boundaries, I was caught to be brought back in, I was out for an exchange as a break, when another of the balls was in as a substitute, but I was in again may be they found me, the best of the balls.
One of the pleasurable moments was when the goal keepers would hold me tight, saving me from being kicked by the players, but suddenly I was in the air with his hurlings to be headed or chested , good lord what a feeling of wanting to go away to the creator when I was in the air for some time.
There were these moments of going dizzy , when I found myself crashed at the goal posts or being kicked upside down by the famous Pele kick , then finding the whole sea of humanity yelling when I was netted between the posts, or gloomy and booing for the same reason.
May be it was at one such time , one of the players really felt my sense of claustrophobic spirit , that he did some thing to make the bladder lose that door way to the exterior. I quietly passed my self away from that bag into the void of the sky,back to my old self around folks, watching a match of foot ball on the tv screen ,munching a bite of sandwiches.
It was one of the mornings where the moon was quietly settling itself down the western sky, dawn was breaking, the morning beauty mercury was trying to magnetically draw the sun up from below the horizon, to hide its shining gloryness after the dark night on the eastern sky.
I was moving on listening to the chirpy birds, just in time to see the sun come up behind the mountains with the bird formations being made , reminding me of the days we had draw up this scenery on the charts at school, stretching the tails of “r” and ‘v” to make them look like birds on the flight.
Times like this find me singing my school song, or the farewell song, binding me with some one of the trusty kind, who would have fond memories of the old mingling with the new at a different level.
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
The BBC in
The GMC of England has finally got the verdict in its favour , Dr Surendra Kumar a chesire gp read the verdict ,nailing Dr Andrew Wakefiled, as being dishonest and unethical .- 2 days ago
Jesus was crucified with Gestas and Dismas along side him. Professors John and Simon, nave been nailed with Dr Andrew Wakefield now.
Dr Andrew is no Christ, and I don’t want to make him seem so, but our research instinct in us gets killed and will never surface to know truth, but just accept things as told by the ones who control our minds.
They have not refuted his findings and his studies has been lost in the mayhem .
Thanks to the verdict the future of mmr vaccine is safe and this Dr can be stung repeatedly for years to come.
If this can be done to a surgeon who is a Fellow of the Royal College , who would ever come up with some thing against the vaccine industry, the government, or the doctors association, from now on? Truth be dammed. We must at least listen to his lectures and see his leads for us to do our own research.
This is what is called as killing the messenger and forgetting the message.