(This video is to promote the education among the pupil and the parents in the society and specially education for the girl child.)
Early morning, to meet friends, we started for the school, thoroughly groomed.
Early morning, to meet friends, we started for the school, we go away from the home.
We will not stop if someone tries to stop us, we are starting with our own wish.
We roar as a cloud, we shower like the rain, we shines like the Sun, we started for the school.
It's door opens the secret of the world, someone leads and we follow him/her, our destiny is written on it's wall (Black-board), because of which we get a reason to live (the life).
We will not stop if someone tries to stop us, we are starting with our own wish.
We roar as a cloud, we shower like the rain, we shines like the Sun, we started for the school.
Hatts of to Bharatbala and Kanika whose every product is worth seeing.....
Original post : School Chale hum
Sunday, 30 November 2008
The trek
Dear All,
Last Saturday I had been to Mahuli Fort which is a mountain fort situated at the mountain top nearly 3000 feet above sea level. It was a tremendous experience.
We started at around 11.15 from Dadar. We caught the Kasara bound train at around 11.30 and many joined us in between. It was a family trek and we were 18 people total.
On Saturday, the railway mega block was there for weekly track repairing as usual. So train was halting every now and then. So we had enjoyed the playing cards. I must mention here that my all relatives and I are mad for playing cards. We are nearly gamblers only.
We reach Asangaon station at 2.00 a.m. and we found that many trekking groups are resting on the station. Asangaon is a small village and a single platform in the station.
But we decided to walk. It was around 2 KM on the railway track which was quite thrilling experience since in rainy dark night when you can’t see far, it is just a luck that you could hear the train is coming and have a chance to jump out of railway track and take a resort of nearby small space parallel to the rail track. Of course, we were ensuring ourselves by touching the track occasionally that rail is not coming towards us. But even the train running on the adjacent track was fearful.
To our luck, not a single train came towards us while we were on the track and we reached the rail crossing from where we started walking on the rough road. Now the road was safe but we have to take care that no frog or any other wild insect stamped by us.
Also we were totally wet till now. And around a walk of 3 KM we reached the Lord Shiva temple which was our base camp. Some of us were very new to trekking and therefore never had gone through such hardships. So we decided to wait until the first light of the day.
But idle sitting in temple was another devastating experience since we were ready food for the
mosquitoes and other insects and also since we stopped walking so our body which was warm was until now reminded us that we are wet and the cold started working on us.
Fortunately within an hour there was a first light of the day and the nearby hut of the preacher noticed us and served us hot tea. Drinking it, we felt like having drunk the nectar.
Then we started walking towards the fort. Here I must tell you that mountains in Maharashatra are made up of Basalt rock which formed after the lava cools down. The rocks are thick and they do not break easily but when they break they are sharp in nature. Also the mountains are like Grand Canyon, steep in nature. In rainy season due to heavy rain, the road is slippery; the soil is mucus being wet and the rocks are with thick moss. Walking must be careful.
The other special about these forts is the way to the top. Sometimes, it is secretive, sometimes puzzle, sometimes when you reach the top if you do not turn left or right, your next step will be straight into 2500 feets down in the valley full of thorn. This is basically tact to defeat the enemy in guerilla war.
Mahuli is the fort middle in the range of Bhandar Fort and Palas Fort. The other two forts are called subforts which are to defense the main fort and if the fort is in hands of enemy then like a last minute resort.
At the beginning some of us lost the path since there is no specific sign but later we joined others and we all were walking in the different groups since some of us have heavy luggage, some of us were fat, some were aged, some of us did not have practice of walking and some of us were professional trekkers.
Sometimes we have to make a chain or pull others as the path was difficult and was through thick forest.
Still the rain was heavy and it took around 3.5 hours for us to reach the top. Though we were exhausted walking wet on the slippery and rocky path, reaching the mountain top was a marvelous experience since we were in the clouds and the ocean of the cloud was around us.
Though we did not have an opportunity to see fauna, we do have an opportunity to see various floras. According to the study, Sahyadri Mountains contain more than 330 species of butterflies, 1800 species of plants, 100 species of frogs and more than ten species of bats.
On the top we bath in the waterfall and changed clothes, and had lunch. We had mini cafeteria with us. My brother himself carried 6 Kgs of fruits, 30 boiled eggs along with his clothes. Everyone was carrying heavy food as walking ignites the demon in our stomach.
On the way back, we met a German tourist who came with her husband and 5 year old daughter. We really appreciated their visit since mountaineering in rainy season is tiresome and very hard especially for the children.
While coming back, we were so exhausted that we did not carry water. But now weather had changed and we were dehydrating below hot sun. But in the way there were small water ponds or water channels thankfully.
But walking downwards was quite easy but some of us slip and had a small injury. I slipped in such a way that I rolled and my sit was struck against a rock harshly. Fortunately it wasn’t fracture.
On the way for nearly an hour, we enjoyed water bath in the river at the base and came back to home at around 7.00 p.m.
We were so tired that we nearly collapsed in the bed and slept like a well fed baby for nearly 14 hours. Next 3 days, while sitting and while getting up, we were recalling the sweet memories of the trek. There was pain even raising the hand high. We were walking like a duck pulling our own legs.
But truly speaking it was a nice experience. The fresh air of mountains really gave us a new energy and it freshened our life also, removing the dull cobwebs of routine life. It was like oiling our rusting mind.
The Mahuli fort trekking is suppose to be comparatively easy. I was just thinking how it will be to go for the trekking on the tough forts.
I’ll say that when you come to Maharashtra, do not see Gateway of India, Jijamata Garden or Siddhivinayak temple. The true Maharashtra lies into mountains. It is the real beauty.
Be familiar with this heavenly Experience.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Just for fun:
A girl from the plain region who never seen a mountain in reality once came with us to Raigad, a mountain fort but little less difficult and having stone steps to reach the top.
Be familiar with this heavenly Experience.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Just for fun:
A girl from the plain region who never seen a mountain in reality once came with us to Raigad, a mountain fort but little less difficult and having stone steps to reach the top.
Our conversation:
Q.: Do King Shivaji used to come here?
Our answer: Yes.
Q.: How often, once a month or once a year?
A.: Frequently
Q.: How? Riding on the horse or sitting in the palanquin?
A.: On the elephant.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Lesson of the day for me : To work hard on obesity since my luggage sack was carried by others for sometime. I was really feeling guilty rather ashamed.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Q.: Do King Shivaji used to come here?
Our answer: Yes.
Q.: How often, once a month or once a year?
A.: Frequently
Q.: How? Riding on the horse or sitting in the palanquin?
A.: On the elephant.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Lesson of the day for me : To work hard on obesity since my luggage sack was carried by others for sometime. I was really feeling guilty rather ashamed.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
The song of Maharashtra (Maharashtra Geet)
The link : Jay Jay Maharashtra Maza, Garja Maharashtra Maza
The link : Jay Jay Maharashtra Maza, Garja Maharashtra Maza
Translation:
Let my Maharashtra victorious, roar that Maharashtra is mine.
Reva, Varda, Krushna, Koyana, Bhadra, Godavari (rivers) …
The earthen pots are taking the water of unity (from them).
Let my Maharashtra victorious, roar that Maharashtra is mine.
Reva, Varda, Krushna, Koyana, Bhadra, Godavari (rivers) …
The earthen pots are taking the water of unity (from them).
Let the horses on the bank of river Bheema drink the water of Yamuna (Let the Maharashtra should win the kingdom of Delhi at the time of King Shivaji).
We do not fear `O’ the roaring cloud. We, with our life, answer the hard rule of the sky (Rain havoc or Drought). The lion of Sahyadri Mountain range snarls that King Shivaji is mine; there is only sound in every valley that Maharashtra is mine.
The caves of pride are curved on the black chest (of rocky mountain); the iron fists are playing the sports of death. Maharashtra was boiled in the sun's heat of poverty and wet into sweat of destiny; still it is diminishing for the honor of the nation, it is the Maharashtra which is still saving the kingdom of Delhi.
_____________________________________________________________________
Our Photos are at -
http://picasaweb.google.com/Mithil14/MahuliTrek
http://picasaweb.google.com/Mithil14/MahuliTrek
Original post and comments : The trek
Saturday, 29 November 2008
An Inspiring Poem
केसरी बाना सजाएँ, वीर का शृँगार कर । ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। धृ ।।
डर नहीं तूफान बादल का अंधेरी रात का । डर नहीं हैं धूर्त दुनिया के कपट का घात का ।।
नयन में ध्रुव ध्येय अनुरुप ही दृढ़ भाव भर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। १ ।।
है भरा मन में तपस्वी मुनिवरों का त्याग हैं । और हृदयों में हमारे वीरता की आग है ।।
हाथ हैं उद्योग में रत राष्ट्रसेवा धार कर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। २ ।।
सिंधु से आसाम तक योगी शिला से मान-सर । गुंजते हैं विश्व-जननी प्रार्थना के उच्च-स्वर ।।
सुप्त भावों को जगा उत्साह का संचार कर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। ३ ।।
स्वार्थ का लव-लेश, सत्ता की हमें चिंता नहीं । प्रान्त भाषा वर्ग का कटू भेद भी छूता नहीं ।।
एक हैं हम एक आशा, योजना साकार कर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। ४ ।।
शपथ लेकर पूर्वजों की आश हम पूरी करें । मस्त होकर कार्यरत हों, ध्येयमय जीवन धरें ।।
दे रहे युग को चुनौती आज हम ललकार कर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। ५ ।।
डर नहीं तूफान बादल का अंधेरी रात का । डर नहीं हैं धूर्त दुनिया के कपट का घात का ।।
नयन में ध्रुव ध्येय अनुरुप ही दृढ़ भाव भर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। १ ।।
है भरा मन में तपस्वी मुनिवरों का त्याग हैं । और हृदयों में हमारे वीरता की आग है ।।
हाथ हैं उद्योग में रत राष्ट्रसेवा धार कर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। २ ।।
सिंधु से आसाम तक योगी शिला से मान-सर । गुंजते हैं विश्व-जननी प्रार्थना के उच्च-स्वर ।।
सुप्त भावों को जगा उत्साह का संचार कर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। ३ ।।
स्वार्थ का लव-लेश, सत्ता की हमें चिंता नहीं । प्रान्त भाषा वर्ग का कटू भेद भी छूता नहीं ।।
एक हैं हम एक आशा, योजना साकार कर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। ४ ।।
शपथ लेकर पूर्वजों की आश हम पूरी करें । मस्त होकर कार्यरत हों, ध्येयमय जीवन धरें ।।
दे रहे युग को चुनौती आज हम ललकार कर, ले चले हम राष्ट्रनौका को भँवर के पार कर ।। ५ ।।
Friday, 28 November 2008
कुठे बरं वाचलंय हे?
मध्यम शरीरयष्टी. सावळा वर्ण. उजव्या गालावर गोचिडासारखा मस. धारदार नाक. झुबकेदार मिशा. डोक्यावरील वरचेवर कापलेली लॉनसारखी कटिंग. अघळपघळ धोतर. पितळी बटनांचं खमीस. पटका मात्र लोकांनी दोनच ठिकाणी पाहिला. बुलाखराव घरी असले तर बैठकीतल्या खुंटीवर, नाहीतर त्यांच्या बगलेत. तसा माणूस वचक्या. समोरच्या माणसावर खेकसणारा. पण मुळातच फार भाबडा, ढेकळासारखा विरघळणारा.
बुलाखराव रस्त्यानं निघाले की कामदार मागेपुढे चालायचा, चिंतामन, बाप्पुंचा चिंत्या. पटका बगलेत. तो बगलेतून घसरत घसरत लोंबकळायचा, वडाच्या पारंब्यांसारखा. कधी कधी त्याचा शेंडा घासत जायचा. मातीवरून... शेणाच्या पोवट्यावरून. पण कामदार चिंत्या सांगत नसे. तो सरावानं शहाणा झाला होता. कुणीतरी तो पटका पाहून म्हणायचा, "बाप्पूऽऽ वो बाप्पूऽऽ, तुमचा पटका खाली घासत राह्यला नाऽ !".
"मंगऽ घासते त् घासते. तुया काय बापाचं जाते. आऽऽ ! मोठा आला उजागर. शानपना सांगते. आऽऽ." तसा सांगणारा तिरकट तिरकट निघून जायचा.
चालता चालता त्यांचे पान खाणे चालूच. हे पान खाणंही तसंच जगावेगळं. भल्या मोठ्या नक्षीदार चंचीचा कसा ते डाव्या हाताच्या अंगठ्याला गुंडाळायचे. पानाचे देठ तोडून नुसतं पानच तोंडात टाकायचे.
"मंगऽऽ चिंत्याऽऽ, दिस्लेत काय कुठी हरनंबिरनं? मईत नाईत बारभाईत. आऽऽ!" पान चावता चावता बाप्पू.
"नाईऽऽ जीऽऽ !" चिंत्या.
"लेकाऽ बसल्या बसल्या कामून घोंगडं झटकतं? जाय. त्या लायनू जागल्याले इचार. पयत पयत जाय !"
त्यांच्या नजरेसमोर चिंत्या दुडकी चाल धरायचा. नजरेआड गेला की धीमे धीमे चालायचा. हे सुद्धा तो सरावानं शिकला होता. पाटलानं पळ म्हटलं की पळायचं. पण तेव्हढ्यापुरतं. त्यांच्या नजरेसमोर.
मग पाटलांना आठवायचं, आपण नुस्तं पान खाल्लं. मग ते चुनाळूतील चुना बांधलेल्या छत्रीच्या काडीनं काढायचे. तो बोटानं ओरपून दाताला पुसायचे. तेव्हढ्यात रस्त्यावरील बंडी पाहून, "काबे, ओ किस्न्या, तुया बंडीनं रस्ता अळोला ना रेऽऽ आऽऽ ! रस्ता काय आपल्या बापाचा हाय काय रे. आऽऽ!"
"आत्ताच सोळ्ळी बाप्पू. नेतो वाडग्यात." किसना.
पण ऐकायला बाप्पू जागेवर कुठे? ते आपले पुढे गेलेले. तेव्हढ्यात त्यांना आठवायचं, आपण नुस्ता पान-चुनाच खाल्ला. मग ते सुपारीचा खांड तोंडात टाकायचे.
समोरून आलेल्या रामा मांगानं 'मायऽ बापऽ' म्हटलं.
"काबेऽ ओ राम्या ! ते मसनातली काटी कोनं तोळ्ली रेऽ ! आऽऽ ! "
आऽऽ ! म्हणताना ते उजवी भुवई ताणून बुबुळं वर न्यायचे. मानेला किंचित झटका द्यायचे.
"नाईऽ जीऽऽ बाप्पू. म्या नाई तोळ्ली जीऽऽ ! कालपास्नं मले त् बयतन नाई सापळ्लं. माई चूल नाई पेटली. मंग म्या काटी कसी तोळलीशीन जीऽऽ !" रामा.
"आऽऽ !!! तुया नाई तोळ्ली. जायऽ वाळ्यात जाय अन् मोठ्या पाटलीनले अद्लीकभर जेवारी मांग. जायऽ आऽऽ !"
तेव्हढ्यात त्यांना आठवायचे की आपण काथ नाही खाल्ला. मग ते काळ्या काथाचा खडा तोंडात टाकायचे. पण आता तोंडात पान, चुना आणि खांड यांचा पत्ता नसे. कडुशार तोंड झालेलं वाटून ते तंबाखुची चुक्टी तोंडात टाकायचे आणि चावडीच्या पायरीवर पाय ठेवायचे.
____________________________________________________________________ वाचलेलं वाटतं, नाही का हे? कुठे बरं? वर उतरवलेला उतारा कोठल्या पुस्तकातून घेतलेला आहे?सांगा बरं! ह्या पुस्तकाविषयी, त्याच्या लेखक/लेखिकेविषयी, प्रकाशनाविषयी, त्यांच्या इतर पुस्तकांविषयी किंवा ह्याच विषयावरच्या तुम्ही वाचलेल्या इतर पुस्तकांविषयी माहिती दिलीत तर तेही वाचायला आवडेल!
बुलाखराव रस्त्यानं निघाले की कामदार मागेपुढे चालायचा, चिंतामन, बाप्पुंचा चिंत्या. पटका बगलेत. तो बगलेतून घसरत घसरत लोंबकळायचा, वडाच्या पारंब्यांसारखा. कधी कधी त्याचा शेंडा घासत जायचा. मातीवरून... शेणाच्या पोवट्यावरून. पण कामदार चिंत्या सांगत नसे. तो सरावानं शहाणा झाला होता. कुणीतरी तो पटका पाहून म्हणायचा, "बाप्पूऽऽ वो बाप्पूऽऽ, तुमचा पटका खाली घासत राह्यला नाऽ !".
"मंगऽ घासते त् घासते. तुया काय बापाचं जाते. आऽऽ ! मोठा आला उजागर. शानपना सांगते. आऽऽ." तसा सांगणारा तिरकट तिरकट निघून जायचा.
चालता चालता त्यांचे पान खाणे चालूच. हे पान खाणंही तसंच जगावेगळं. भल्या मोठ्या नक्षीदार चंचीचा कसा ते डाव्या हाताच्या अंगठ्याला गुंडाळायचे. पानाचे देठ तोडून नुसतं पानच तोंडात टाकायचे.
"मंगऽऽ चिंत्याऽऽ, दिस्लेत काय कुठी हरनंबिरनं? मईत नाईत बारभाईत. आऽऽ!" पान चावता चावता बाप्पू.
"नाईऽऽ जीऽऽ !" चिंत्या.
"लेकाऽ बसल्या बसल्या कामून घोंगडं झटकतं? जाय. त्या लायनू जागल्याले इचार. पयत पयत जाय !"
त्यांच्या नजरेसमोर चिंत्या दुडकी चाल धरायचा. नजरेआड गेला की धीमे धीमे चालायचा. हे सुद्धा तो सरावानं शिकला होता. पाटलानं पळ म्हटलं की पळायचं. पण तेव्हढ्यापुरतं. त्यांच्या नजरेसमोर.
मग पाटलांना आठवायचं, आपण नुस्तं पान खाल्लं. मग ते चुनाळूतील चुना बांधलेल्या छत्रीच्या काडीनं काढायचे. तो बोटानं ओरपून दाताला पुसायचे. तेव्हढ्यात रस्त्यावरील बंडी पाहून, "काबे, ओ किस्न्या, तुया बंडीनं रस्ता अळोला ना रेऽऽ आऽऽ ! रस्ता काय आपल्या बापाचा हाय काय रे. आऽऽ!"
"आत्ताच सोळ्ळी बाप्पू. नेतो वाडग्यात." किसना.
पण ऐकायला बाप्पू जागेवर कुठे? ते आपले पुढे गेलेले. तेव्हढ्यात त्यांना आठवायचं, आपण नुस्ता पान-चुनाच खाल्ला. मग ते सुपारीचा खांड तोंडात टाकायचे.
समोरून आलेल्या रामा मांगानं 'मायऽ बापऽ' म्हटलं.
"काबेऽ ओ राम्या ! ते मसनातली काटी कोनं तोळ्ली रेऽ ! आऽऽ ! "
आऽऽ ! म्हणताना ते उजवी भुवई ताणून बुबुळं वर न्यायचे. मानेला किंचित झटका द्यायचे.
"नाईऽ जीऽऽ बाप्पू. म्या नाई तोळ्ली जीऽऽ ! कालपास्नं मले त् बयतन नाई सापळ्लं. माई चूल नाई पेटली. मंग म्या काटी कसी तोळलीशीन जीऽऽ !" रामा.
"आऽऽ !!! तुया नाई तोळ्ली. जायऽ वाळ्यात जाय अन् मोठ्या पाटलीनले अद्लीकभर जेवारी मांग. जायऽ आऽऽ !"
तेव्हढ्यात त्यांना आठवायचे की आपण काथ नाही खाल्ला. मग ते काळ्या काथाचा खडा तोंडात टाकायचे. पण आता तोंडात पान, चुना आणि खांड यांचा पत्ता नसे. कडुशार तोंड झालेलं वाटून ते तंबाखुची चुक्टी तोंडात टाकायचे आणि चावडीच्या पायरीवर पाय ठेवायचे.
____________________________________________________________________ वाचलेलं वाटतं, नाही का हे? कुठे बरं? वर उतरवलेला उतारा कोठल्या पुस्तकातून घेतलेला आहे?सांगा बरं! ह्या पुस्तकाविषयी, त्याच्या लेखक/लेखिकेविषयी, प्रकाशनाविषयी, त्यांच्या इतर पुस्तकांविषयी किंवा ह्याच विषयावरच्या तुम्ही वाचलेल्या इतर पुस्तकांविषयी माहिती दिलीत तर तेही वाचायला आवडेल!
Wednesday, 26 November 2008
The passion
In my last blog on Mahuli trek, I mentioned about playing cards. I’d like to speak few more words about it here. For us, playing the cards is not merely a game but like a cultural part of our life and a pleasure to share with our relatives.
As said we are nearly gamblers and I’m saying it nearly because we usually avoid cheating others because for us passing the comments, quarrelling is far more important than to win. That is why I said that it is a kind of a family gathering where we all sit together night and day just to play cards.
Yes, few of us do tricks, hide the cards, lie or signal partners but number is very less. But most of us prefer to play fair game with trying to remember played cards and thinking of forthcoming expected moves. But most of the time our thinking and partners’ thinking do not match and there starts the quarrel. And if the husband and wife is partner in the particular group then there is an additional fun to see their quarrel.
Also none of us like to deal the card, and distribute it since most of the time the players are 10 to 20 and distributing so many people at a time is boring job. So usually the loosing team deals the card set turn by turn. And the winning team teases the loosing team members by passing comments.
Also we prefer that while playing cards, mouth must be busy not only with talk but in eating as well. The Spicy flakes (Poha Chiwda) and Chakli are our favorite most.
It is a great fun especially when we go to our native place. Our native place is in Jungle and the electricity was introduce there just few years ago but still we do not have television so in the evening our favorite time pass is playing cards.
It is a great fun especially when we go to our native place. Our native place is in Jungle and the electricity was introduce there just few years ago but still we do not have television so in the evening our favorite time pass is playing cards.
Also at my Maamaa’s place which is adjacent to sea and on the mountain top, there is nothing to disturb us but only sea cool breezes and also since there is a great danger of Snakes and Scorpios outside we prefer to stay inside and play the cards whole night.
We mostly play Mendhicoat, 304, Ladees and Canvesta if the group is large. Rummy, Zabbu, Gulam-chor etc. if the group is small and if the children are more then Badamsaat, not at home, challenge etc. These are all local names since we do not know their official international names.
Also we can play cards anytime, anywhere viz. standing in the bus depot, train passage, sitting in the coal truck, at the mountain top, in the jungles - simply anywhere.
Also we can play cards anytime, anywhere viz. standing in the bus depot, train passage, sitting in the coal truck, at the mountain top, in the jungles - simply anywhere.
And whenever someone in our relations says that we do not know how to play cards or say that playing the cards in our house is totally banned we look at them with so much pity that our glance says them what you have earned in life? Your whole life is waste.
Original post : The passion
Original post : The passion
Not one less
Today is the teacher's day and a day to remember our scholar, philosopher president Hon. Mr. Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan.
Few years ago on AXN TV, I saw a beautiful chinese movie "Not one less". It is a story of the simple and dedicated village teacher, who for her troublemaker student, comes to big city and on the television appeals him to return to the village and because of her heart-touching appeal not only her naughty student cries but the every sensible person in that city moves and helps her to find the student.
The story -
Teacher Gao of the Shuiquan Primary School has to be away from school for a month to tend to his ailing mother. The mayor of the village finds a substitute teacher, Wei Minzhi, to take over the class for Teacher Gao. Seeing that Wei Minzhi is only 13 years old, Teacher Gao protests to the mayor that such a young girl will not be able to teach students who are her own age or slightly younger. The mayor replies that finding anyone in that rural area that is willing to take the job is no mean feat, and that at the least she can keep an eye on things while Teacher Gao is away.
Wei is also poor, and initially accepts the job because of the money. She does not care about student or the teaching. Teacher Gao’s class had 40 students at the beginning of the school year, but increasing attrition has brought that number down to 28. Teacher Gao admonishes Wei Minzhi that she must not allow even one more student to drop out while he’s gone and promises her an extra 10 yuan in pay if she succeeds (Not one student should be less).
Teacher Wei, as her students—who are not much younger than she is—now ironically call her, embarks on a day-to-day struggle to maintain some semblance of order and authority. She writes Teacher Gao's lessons onto the board, and then makes her students copy them into their notebooks. A very straightforward plan of action if it wasn't for those mischievous children who sense a trace of shyness clumsily disguised in Wei's bossiness.
In an attempt to discipline the students, Teacher Wei occasionally resorts to locking them up in the classroom and running after those who manage to escape. And so her struggle continues.
When a bus carrying an athletics trainer from the state sporting institution arrives, in an attempt to recruit a talented fast runner from the school, Wei displays her stubborn resoluteness in trying to prevent the loss of the student. In this humorous scene, Wei desperately tries to find the young girl who has been hidden by the Mayor. The Mayor approves of the transfer, and reassures the trainer that the girl's parents will as well, when he notifies them of it later. Especially striking is the power exercised by local authority over family matters. In a final effort to “rescue” her pupil, Wei runs after the bus. The Mayor remarks to the trainer that Wei is also not a bad runner. Maybe she could also join the training institute? Everything seems permissible in the pursuit of success, or in the fight for government funding and a higher profile for the school.
Wei faithfully calls the roster every day and then sets the students to copying lessons from the blackboard. She is not overly concerned about whether the students actually learn anything as long as they stay put; she ends up spending most of each day sitting guard outside the classroom door.
A particularly disruptive nuisance is 10 year-old Zhang Huike, who, amongst other troubles, causes the crushing of the chalk. His action evokes sympathy towards the helpless Wei from children who previously gave her a hard time.
Zhang Huike is a bright but naughty boy who often tries Wei’s patience as she works to keep a semblance of order amongst the children. His family is in serious financial debt, however, and when he fails to appear in class one morning, Wei discovers he has been forced to go to the city to find work.
With Teacher Gao’s words still firmly in her mind but only a vague idea of where the boy might be, Wei Minzhi sets off on her own to the big city to try to find Zhang Huike and bring him back.
Wei's reasons are purely selfish, which is somewhat of a turnoff. Initially, she tries to find Zhang only to ensure she receives the extra money. Also, Zhang is a brat. He is the class troublemaker, constantly a thorn in Wei's side. Neither character engenders much sympathy from the viewer. Who cares if Zhang returns? The class is better off without him. Thankfully, sometime in the middle, Wei's reasons for searching change, becoming earnest.
All the students begin to adopt a more serious and purposeful approach to their studies, especially arithmetic. The exact bus fare that Wei will need to travel to Jiangjiakou City must be worked out. In one of their calculations, the children decide they will need to move bricks for 175 hours in the local brick factory to pay for Wei's return fare. In the end, they manage to earn just enough for a couple of cans of coke, which they eagerly gulp down as their reward.
The children's efforts seem to indicate their yearning for their greatest unfulfilled dream—getting to the city themselves. Helping Wei is probably the closest they will ever come to the imaginary prosperity of the outside world.
Finally, the children help Wei sneak into the city-bound bus. Despite being thrown off, she manages to reach her destination after an arduous ordeal on foot and hitchhiking. Now a totally different, more sophisticated picture of China emerges, one of technological prosperity, although punctuated with people holding mobile phones sleeping on the streets.
After an exhausting search, Wei decides to implement her final plan to find Zhang: to plead with the state television chief to allow her to appear live on air, hoping that Zhang might see her. In the following sequences, almost painful to watch but also comically natural, Wei tries to find the chief by stopping every station employee wearing glasses (that was, after all, how the security guard described him).
In an unexpected twist, the station chief calls for the girl after noticing her at the gate for two days and sympathizing with her cause. In the most moving scene of the film, Zhang recognizes the tearful Wei on television and breaks down in tears, unleashing all his pent-up pain, mixed now with happiness. Finally, both children are returned to their village, escorted by shiny-faced beaming media personnel looking for a picturesque slice of China's rural life. The greatest gift by these media personnel to these children is the colored chalks which they have seen first time in their life.
The great thing in this film is that the young students are young students in real classroom. The mayor is a mayor in real life. Television anchors, station managers, store clerks, and train station announcers all play the same roles in the movie as they play in real life. The entire cast uses their real names in the film further blurring the line between fiction and reality. Zhang also placed hidden cameras on to his cast while filming in the city, to catch everyday people acting normally. Any sour taste is gone by the middle of the movie, making the rest heartwarming.
http://www.sonypictures.com/classics/notoneless/story.html
http://www.haro-online.com/movies/not_one_less.html
Wei is also poor, and initially accepts the job because of the money. She does not care about student or the teaching. Teacher Gao’s class had 40 students at the beginning of the school year, but increasing attrition has brought that number down to 28. Teacher Gao admonishes Wei Minzhi that she must not allow even one more student to drop out while he’s gone and promises her an extra 10 yuan in pay if she succeeds (Not one student should be less).
Teacher Wei, as her students—who are not much younger than she is—now ironically call her, embarks on a day-to-day struggle to maintain some semblance of order and authority. She writes Teacher Gao's lessons onto the board, and then makes her students copy them into their notebooks. A very straightforward plan of action if it wasn't for those mischievous children who sense a trace of shyness clumsily disguised in Wei's bossiness.
In an attempt to discipline the students, Teacher Wei occasionally resorts to locking them up in the classroom and running after those who manage to escape. And so her struggle continues.
When a bus carrying an athletics trainer from the state sporting institution arrives, in an attempt to recruit a talented fast runner from the school, Wei displays her stubborn resoluteness in trying to prevent the loss of the student. In this humorous scene, Wei desperately tries to find the young girl who has been hidden by the Mayor. The Mayor approves of the transfer, and reassures the trainer that the girl's parents will as well, when he notifies them of it later. Especially striking is the power exercised by local authority over family matters. In a final effort to “rescue” her pupil, Wei runs after the bus. The Mayor remarks to the trainer that Wei is also not a bad runner. Maybe she could also join the training institute? Everything seems permissible in the pursuit of success, or in the fight for government funding and a higher profile for the school.
Wei faithfully calls the roster every day and then sets the students to copying lessons from the blackboard. She is not overly concerned about whether the students actually learn anything as long as they stay put; she ends up spending most of each day sitting guard outside the classroom door.
A particularly disruptive nuisance is 10 year-old Zhang Huike, who, amongst other troubles, causes the crushing of the chalk. His action evokes sympathy towards the helpless Wei from children who previously gave her a hard time.
Zhang Huike is a bright but naughty boy who often tries Wei’s patience as she works to keep a semblance of order amongst the children. His family is in serious financial debt, however, and when he fails to appear in class one morning, Wei discovers he has been forced to go to the city to find work.
With Teacher Gao’s words still firmly in her mind but only a vague idea of where the boy might be, Wei Minzhi sets off on her own to the big city to try to find Zhang Huike and bring him back.
Wei's reasons are purely selfish, which is somewhat of a turnoff. Initially, she tries to find Zhang only to ensure she receives the extra money. Also, Zhang is a brat. He is the class troublemaker, constantly a thorn in Wei's side. Neither character engenders much sympathy from the viewer. Who cares if Zhang returns? The class is better off without him. Thankfully, sometime in the middle, Wei's reasons for searching change, becoming earnest.
All the students begin to adopt a more serious and purposeful approach to their studies, especially arithmetic. The exact bus fare that Wei will need to travel to Jiangjiakou City must be worked out. In one of their calculations, the children decide they will need to move bricks for 175 hours in the local brick factory to pay for Wei's return fare. In the end, they manage to earn just enough for a couple of cans of coke, which they eagerly gulp down as their reward.
The children's efforts seem to indicate their yearning for their greatest unfulfilled dream—getting to the city themselves. Helping Wei is probably the closest they will ever come to the imaginary prosperity of the outside world.
Finally, the children help Wei sneak into the city-bound bus. Despite being thrown off, she manages to reach her destination after an arduous ordeal on foot and hitchhiking. Now a totally different, more sophisticated picture of China emerges, one of technological prosperity, although punctuated with people holding mobile phones sleeping on the streets.
After an exhausting search, Wei decides to implement her final plan to find Zhang: to plead with the state television chief to allow her to appear live on air, hoping that Zhang might see her. In the following sequences, almost painful to watch but also comically natural, Wei tries to find the chief by stopping every station employee wearing glasses (that was, after all, how the security guard described him).
In an unexpected twist, the station chief calls for the girl after noticing her at the gate for two days and sympathizing with her cause. In the most moving scene of the film, Zhang recognizes the tearful Wei on television and breaks down in tears, unleashing all his pent-up pain, mixed now with happiness. Finally, both children are returned to their village, escorted by shiny-faced beaming media personnel looking for a picturesque slice of China's rural life. The greatest gift by these media personnel to these children is the colored chalks which they have seen first time in their life.
The great thing in this film is that the young students are young students in real classroom. The mayor is a mayor in real life. Television anchors, station managers, store clerks, and train station announcers all play the same roles in the movie as they play in real life. The entire cast uses their real names in the film further blurring the line between fiction and reality. Zhang also placed hidden cameras on to his cast while filming in the city, to catch everyday people acting normally. Any sour taste is gone by the middle of the movie, making the rest heartwarming.
http://www.sonypictures.com/classics/notoneless/story.html
http://www.haro-online.com/movies/not_one_less.html
Original post : Not one less
Sunday, 23 November 2008
First Impression
Recently, I visited my 360 friend, "R. Selvakkumar's blog" for the photo caption. There he suggested that the viewer should put caption for the photo that is in that blog.
I wrote a word which came to my mind spontaneously after seeing that picture and it reminded me the game we played in my B.Ed. learning.
My professor gave us 30 words and ask us to write the first thing that comes to our mind when we saw that word. It shows that how we are common in thinking with others sometime, and how we are uncommon with others sometime. This is a game which finds out the student having great imagination, deep thinking, omniscience and thinking with a different stroke.
You can very well play this game and compare your answers with others, do not forget to come back to see other's comment.
1) Wood
2) Evening
3) Meal
4) Game
5) Swiftness
6) Books
7) Drop
8) Circus
9) Height
10) Colour
My answers are -
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
1) Wood - Chip of the old tree
2) Evening - Sky colour
3) Meal - Steel vertical tiffin-box
4) Game - Kho: Kho.
5) Swiftness - Ice hocky
6) Books - Wooden Shelf
7) Drop - Picture of the big water drop
8) Circus - Red cheeks of the clown.
9) Height - Movie : Vertical Limit
10) Colour - Pallette
2) Evening
3) Meal
4) Game
5) Swiftness
6) Books
7) Drop
8) Circus
9) Height
10) Colour
My answers are -
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
1) Wood - Chip of the old tree
2) Evening - Sky colour
3) Meal - Steel vertical tiffin-box
4) Game - Kho: Kho.
5) Swiftness - Ice hocky
6) Books - Wooden Shelf
7) Drop - Picture of the big water drop
8) Circus - Red cheeks of the clown.
9) Height - Movie : Vertical Limit
10) Colour - Pallette
Original post and comments : First Impression
Dhara Dhara
Many years ago, on Doordarshan, there was an advertise that a small boy "Bablu" is leaving the village since everybody in the family scolds him (Just like our Home Alone Hero wishes that his family may disappear). Now this boy is sitting on the bench at Railway Station.
His family servant Ramukaka comes searching him. Porter shows Ramukaka that this little boy is sitting on the bench waiting for the train and Ramukaka pretends that as if not noticed him and passes by him.
Bablu innocently calls Ramukaka and says that he is leaving the house since everybody is angry with him. Ramu kaka says, "But the Mother has prepared Hot - Tasty Jalebis (Sweets)" and next moment the boy and Ramukaka is coming back to home.
Then at home Bablu's Mother gives him a jumbo dish of Jalebis and asks him what he has decided.
Bablu replies - I must go but .......
And his father says on his behalf - after 20-25 years.
*******************************************************************
His family servant Ramukaka comes searching him. Porter shows Ramukaka that this little boy is sitting on the bench waiting for the train and Ramukaka pretends that as if not noticed him and passes by him.
Bablu innocently calls Ramukaka and says that he is leaving the house since everybody is angry with him. Ramu kaka says, "But the Mother has prepared Hot - Tasty Jalebis (Sweets)" and next moment the boy and Ramukaka is coming back to home.
Then at home Bablu's Mother gives him a jumbo dish of Jalebis and asks him what he has decided.
Bablu replies - I must go but .......
And his father says on his behalf - after 20-25 years.
*******************************************************************
Original comments : Dhara Dhara
America's Ambedkar
Many year ago I read a book in Marathi called "Ek hota Carver" and it moved my heart. It was a biography of Hon. Mr. George Washigton Carver which is like a light-house for a ship on high seas, at the stormy night, in the darkest hour.
I wrote here Mr. as an initial because in America, in his time it was not allowed for the black people to write Mr. before their name and whosoever did that mistake was even burnt to death for this small did.
Epitaph on the grave of this Mahatma (Person with a great soul) reads-
"He could have added fortune to fame but caring for neither he found happiness and honor in being helpful to the world."
Indeed, he was the man who lived his life not only for his people and for his country but for the sake of the human being and his research uplifted every downtrodden to raise out of the slavery and establish oneself.
George Washington Carver
Born out of slavery and reared in Reconstruction, this humble man emerged to become a great benefactor to his people and his section. George Washington Carver was born into slavery during the Civil War, in the midst of bloody guerrilla warfare in Missouri . A tiny, sickly baby, he was soon orphaned, and his very survival beyond infancy was against the laws of nature.
That he, a Negro, became the first and greatest chemurgist, almost single-handedly revolutionized Southern agriculture, and received world acclaim for his contributions to agricultural chemistry was against all accepted patterns. But, seen from today's distance, possibly the most amazing facet of the life of this gentle genius is the manner in which he overcame enormous prejudices and poverty in his struggle from nameless black boy to George Washington Carver, B.S., M.S., D.Sc., Ph.D., Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts, London, and Director of Research and Experiment at Tuskegee Institute, Alabama -- all without a trace of bitterness, with total indifference to personal fortune, and thought only to make the world, and America in particular, a better place for all mankind.
George Washington Carver did not know the exact date of his birth, but he thought it was in January, 1864 (some evidence indicates July, 1861, but not conclusively). He knew it was sometime before slavery was abolished in Missouri , which occurred in January, 1865. (The Emancipation Proclamation freed only those slaves whose masters were "in rebellion against the United States ," which was not the case in Missouri , where slaves were finally freed by state action.)
George grew up on the farmlands of Missouri, reared by his mother until her seizure by a band of raiders; and then by Moses and Susan Carver, his mother's former owners, who had a homestead near Diamond Grove. Because the frail little boy was not required to help with the heavy farm chores, he had many free daylight hours in which to do exactly as he chose, and he chose to explore the wonders of nature. He talked to the wildflowers, asking why some of them required sunlight and some didn't, and how roots that looked exactly alike produced different-colored blossoms, and, he said many years later, the flowers answered him as best they could.
He investigated insects, tree bark, leaves, ferns, seeds, and the like and made all of them his precious playthings. He tended the roses, sweet peas, and geraniums around the Carver house, and they flourished so strikingly a visitor asked him what she might do to make her flowers prettier. "Love them" the boy answered.
Word spread around Diamond Grove that "Carver's George " had a magic way with growing things, and people began calling him the Plant Doctor. He made house calls, either prescribing remedies for ailing plants or taking them to his secret garden in the woods where he tenderly nursed them. His "magic" with growing things was largely the result of his patient testing of different combinations of sand, loam and clay as potting soil for various plants, his experimentation with different amounts of sunlight and water, and his tracking down of damaging insects and the like.
When the Carver's finest apple tree began withering, George crawled along its limbs until he found some on which colonies of codling moths had taken up residence. "Saw off those branches," he told Moses Carver , "and the tree will get well." And it did.
Occasionally, George and his older brother Jim were allowed to go with Moses to Neosho , the county seat, about eight miles from Diamond Grove. Once, to George 's surprise, he saw a line of colored children straggling into a log schoolhouse. When the door closed behind them, he crept up to it and listened. They were reciting lessons, just like the white children at Locust Grove. He peeped through a knothole. The Negro teacher was reading to the pupils just like the white teacher at Locust Grove. It was, truly, a school for Negro children. George , who was 11 at the time, knew he had to attend that school.
Back at the Carver house, the boy told Moses , Susan and Jim that he was going to move to Neosho so he could go to school. They asked him where he would sleep and how he would eat. He replied that he would find a place where he could sweep and wash clothes and do the other things Susan had taught him in exchange for his board. They did not try to stop him, and early one morning they watched him start, alone, down the dusty road toward Neosho .
He carried the best of his rock collection and a clean shirt in a bundle slung over his shoulder, and a package of food -- loaves of baked corn bread and strips of home-cured fat meat sandwiched in the middle -- under his arm. He turned once and waved a skinny arm, and then he was gone, driven by a deep yearning for the education that would help him find answers to all the questions buzzing in his mind.
George 's courage wavered after he got to the county seat, and he wandered up and down the streets until dark without speaking to anyone. Then, exhausted, he crawled into the loft of a barn near the schoolhouse, nestled down into the hay and fell asleep. At dawn the next morning, he ventured from the loft and crawled atop the woodpile in the yard behind a neat frame house next door to the school. The yard was grassy and had flowers in it, and that, to George , made it a good place to wait for the schoolhouse to be opened.
Suddenly, the back door of the house opened and a Negro woman came into the yard. She asked the big-eyed, frightened boy who he was and where he had come from. He stammered that he was Carver's George and he had come from the Moses Carver farm to Neosho to go to school so that he could find out what made snow and hail, and whether the color of a flower could be changed by changing the seed.
The woman, Mariah Watkins , told him she doubted if he could find out those things in Neosho , or even in Joplin or Kansas City , but that she had a feeling he would learn them somewhere. She had him scrub at the pump, and then took him inside and served him breakfast along with her husband, Andrew .
Mariah was a midwife and washerwoman, and Andrew was a hard-working odd-jobs man. They were a religious couple, well thought of in the county seat. They told George they had no children and that he could stay with them and go to school if he'd work. Overjoyed, the boy began listing all the household chores the Carvers had taught him to do. "That's fine," Mariah interrupted.
"You call us Aunt Mariah and Uncle Andrew , and listen now, don't ever again say your name is Carver's George . It's George Carver . Now run to school, and come back at noon for a bit of lunch."
With his keen, retentive mind and restless curiosity, little George was soon making faster progress than any of the other seventy-five pupils packed in Neosho's Lincoln School for Colored Children. And he was the happiest. He didn't join in the rough-and-tumble play in the schoolyard, but he was blissfully satisfied sitting alone in a corner, drawing pictures on his slate, while the other youngsters played. At home, he had a reader or speller propped in front of him even while he scrubbed cloths or washed dishes. He became expert at ironing -- even though he read while doing that, too.
By the end of 1876, George Carver had learned everything the teacher at the Lincoln School knew and everything in the books available to the school, and the teacher gave him a certificate of merit saying just about that. The 13-year-old boy faced the sad fact that, to continue his education, he would have to leave his happy life with Aunt Mariah and Uncle Andrew and his warm association with brother Jim , who had also moved to Neosho . He heard some neighborhood Negroes say they were going to move to Fort Scott , Kansas , a comparatively large town about seventy-five miles from Neosho. He offered to tend the mules along the way if they would let him ride in their wagon, and they agreed.
George Carver nearly starved before he found a job in Fort Scott . When he did find one, as a cook in a private residence, it did not leave him time to attend school. He lived in a tiny room under the back steps of the house, and saved every penny of his meager wages. As soon as he thought he had enough to carry him through a term of school, he quit the job as a cook. He rented a lean-to behind the stagecoach depot for a dollar a week, and enrolled at a big brick school which taught subjects he had never even heard of before. He allowed himself a dollar a week for food and bought almost nothing else. He studied by candlelight far into each night, and he read every book, pamphlet, and newspaper he could acquire.
By the end of the term he was penniless. He worked all summer washing and ironing bed linen for the hotel and doing laundry for businessmen and ranchers who came and went by stagecoach. By fall, he had enough money saved to go back to school.
It was a lonely life, and George was sometimes the object of cruelty and prejudice. After his schoolbooks were taken from him and destroyed by two white boys, he had to finish a school term without textbooks. He wrote long afterward, "Sunshine was profusely intermingled with shadows, such as are naturally cast on a defenseless orphan . . ." and they went on to tell that many people were kind to him and that he began to make friends over his laundry tub and bar of soap.
During George's second year in Fort Scott, he worked a few hours a day for a colored blacksmith, sweeping the stable and grooming and delivering newly shod horses. Late one afternoon, returning to his room from the blacksmith shop, he watched in horror as a Negro man was dragged from the jail and lynched.
During the night, the troubled boy bundled up his few belongings and fled from Fort Scott , never to return.
During the next several years, George moved through the Western country, always managing to attend school. In the spring of 1885, by which time he was nearly six feet tall and had given himself the middle name of Washington, the proud young man graduated from Minneapolis, Kansas High School. He immediately applied for admission to Highland College , a small Presbyterian school in northeast Kansas , and was accepted for the semester beginning September 20,1885 . He spent the summer in Kansas City learning shorthand and typing, and working to accumulate a few dollars to tide him over at college until he could find employment.
On September 20, George arrived at Highland and presented himself to the principal, the Reverend Duncan Brown , D.D. , who had signed his admission acceptance. Dr. Brown shook his head, "There has been a mistake. You didn't tell me you were Negro. Highland College does not take Negroes."
Please continue your reading to page: http://www.nps.gov/archive/gwca/expanded/gwc_tour_03.htm
Other links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Washington_Carver
http://inventors.about.com/library/weekly/aa041897.htm
http://www.tuskegee.edu/Global/story.asp?S=1107203
http://www.ideafinder.com/history/inventors/carver.htm
I wrote here Mr. as an initial because in America, in his time it was not allowed for the black people to write Mr. before their name and whosoever did that mistake was even burnt to death for this small did.
Epitaph on the grave of this Mahatma (Person with a great soul) reads-
"He could have added fortune to fame but caring for neither he found happiness and honor in being helpful to the world."
Indeed, he was the man who lived his life not only for his people and for his country but for the sake of the human being and his research uplifted every downtrodden to raise out of the slavery and establish oneself.
George Washington Carver
Born out of slavery and reared in Reconstruction, this humble man emerged to become a great benefactor to his people and his section. George Washington Carver was born into slavery during the Civil War, in the midst of bloody guerrilla warfare in Missouri . A tiny, sickly baby, he was soon orphaned, and his very survival beyond infancy was against the laws of nature.
That he, a Negro, became the first and greatest chemurgist, almost single-handedly revolutionized Southern agriculture, and received world acclaim for his contributions to agricultural chemistry was against all accepted patterns. But, seen from today's distance, possibly the most amazing facet of the life of this gentle genius is the manner in which he overcame enormous prejudices and poverty in his struggle from nameless black boy to George Washington Carver, B.S., M.S., D.Sc., Ph.D., Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts, London, and Director of Research and Experiment at Tuskegee Institute, Alabama -- all without a trace of bitterness, with total indifference to personal fortune, and thought only to make the world, and America in particular, a better place for all mankind.
George Washington Carver did not know the exact date of his birth, but he thought it was in January, 1864 (some evidence indicates July, 1861, but not conclusively). He knew it was sometime before slavery was abolished in Missouri , which occurred in January, 1865. (The Emancipation Proclamation freed only those slaves whose masters were "in rebellion against the United States ," which was not the case in Missouri , where slaves were finally freed by state action.)
George grew up on the farmlands of Missouri, reared by his mother until her seizure by a band of raiders; and then by Moses and Susan Carver, his mother's former owners, who had a homestead near Diamond Grove. Because the frail little boy was not required to help with the heavy farm chores, he had many free daylight hours in which to do exactly as he chose, and he chose to explore the wonders of nature. He talked to the wildflowers, asking why some of them required sunlight and some didn't, and how roots that looked exactly alike produced different-colored blossoms, and, he said many years later, the flowers answered him as best they could.
He investigated insects, tree bark, leaves, ferns, seeds, and the like and made all of them his precious playthings. He tended the roses, sweet peas, and geraniums around the Carver house, and they flourished so strikingly a visitor asked him what she might do to make her flowers prettier. "Love them" the boy answered.
Word spread around Diamond Grove that "Carver's George " had a magic way with growing things, and people began calling him the Plant Doctor. He made house calls, either prescribing remedies for ailing plants or taking them to his secret garden in the woods where he tenderly nursed them. His "magic" with growing things was largely the result of his patient testing of different combinations of sand, loam and clay as potting soil for various plants, his experimentation with different amounts of sunlight and water, and his tracking down of damaging insects and the like.
When the Carver's finest apple tree began withering, George crawled along its limbs until he found some on which colonies of codling moths had taken up residence. "Saw off those branches," he told Moses Carver , "and the tree will get well." And it did.
Occasionally, George and his older brother Jim were allowed to go with Moses to Neosho , the county seat, about eight miles from Diamond Grove. Once, to George 's surprise, he saw a line of colored children straggling into a log schoolhouse. When the door closed behind them, he crept up to it and listened. They were reciting lessons, just like the white children at Locust Grove. He peeped through a knothole. The Negro teacher was reading to the pupils just like the white teacher at Locust Grove. It was, truly, a school for Negro children. George , who was 11 at the time, knew he had to attend that school.
Back at the Carver house, the boy told Moses , Susan and Jim that he was going to move to Neosho so he could go to school. They asked him where he would sleep and how he would eat. He replied that he would find a place where he could sweep and wash clothes and do the other things Susan had taught him in exchange for his board. They did not try to stop him, and early one morning they watched him start, alone, down the dusty road toward Neosho .
He carried the best of his rock collection and a clean shirt in a bundle slung over his shoulder, and a package of food -- loaves of baked corn bread and strips of home-cured fat meat sandwiched in the middle -- under his arm. He turned once and waved a skinny arm, and then he was gone, driven by a deep yearning for the education that would help him find answers to all the questions buzzing in his mind.
George 's courage wavered after he got to the county seat, and he wandered up and down the streets until dark without speaking to anyone. Then, exhausted, he crawled into the loft of a barn near the schoolhouse, nestled down into the hay and fell asleep. At dawn the next morning, he ventured from the loft and crawled atop the woodpile in the yard behind a neat frame house next door to the school. The yard was grassy and had flowers in it, and that, to George , made it a good place to wait for the schoolhouse to be opened.
Suddenly, the back door of the house opened and a Negro woman came into the yard. She asked the big-eyed, frightened boy who he was and where he had come from. He stammered that he was Carver's George and he had come from the Moses Carver farm to Neosho to go to school so that he could find out what made snow and hail, and whether the color of a flower could be changed by changing the seed.
The woman, Mariah Watkins , told him she doubted if he could find out those things in Neosho , or even in Joplin or Kansas City , but that she had a feeling he would learn them somewhere. She had him scrub at the pump, and then took him inside and served him breakfast along with her husband, Andrew .
Mariah was a midwife and washerwoman, and Andrew was a hard-working odd-jobs man. They were a religious couple, well thought of in the county seat. They told George they had no children and that he could stay with them and go to school if he'd work. Overjoyed, the boy began listing all the household chores the Carvers had taught him to do. "That's fine," Mariah interrupted.
"You call us Aunt Mariah and Uncle Andrew , and listen now, don't ever again say your name is Carver's George . It's George Carver . Now run to school, and come back at noon for a bit of lunch."
With his keen, retentive mind and restless curiosity, little George was soon making faster progress than any of the other seventy-five pupils packed in Neosho's Lincoln School for Colored Children. And he was the happiest. He didn't join in the rough-and-tumble play in the schoolyard, but he was blissfully satisfied sitting alone in a corner, drawing pictures on his slate, while the other youngsters played. At home, he had a reader or speller propped in front of him even while he scrubbed cloths or washed dishes. He became expert at ironing -- even though he read while doing that, too.
By the end of 1876, George Carver had learned everything the teacher at the Lincoln School knew and everything in the books available to the school, and the teacher gave him a certificate of merit saying just about that. The 13-year-old boy faced the sad fact that, to continue his education, he would have to leave his happy life with Aunt Mariah and Uncle Andrew and his warm association with brother Jim , who had also moved to Neosho . He heard some neighborhood Negroes say they were going to move to Fort Scott , Kansas , a comparatively large town about seventy-five miles from Neosho. He offered to tend the mules along the way if they would let him ride in their wagon, and they agreed.
George Carver nearly starved before he found a job in Fort Scott . When he did find one, as a cook in a private residence, it did not leave him time to attend school. He lived in a tiny room under the back steps of the house, and saved every penny of his meager wages. As soon as he thought he had enough to carry him through a term of school, he quit the job as a cook. He rented a lean-to behind the stagecoach depot for a dollar a week, and enrolled at a big brick school which taught subjects he had never even heard of before. He allowed himself a dollar a week for food and bought almost nothing else. He studied by candlelight far into each night, and he read every book, pamphlet, and newspaper he could acquire.
By the end of the term he was penniless. He worked all summer washing and ironing bed linen for the hotel and doing laundry for businessmen and ranchers who came and went by stagecoach. By fall, he had enough money saved to go back to school.
It was a lonely life, and George was sometimes the object of cruelty and prejudice. After his schoolbooks were taken from him and destroyed by two white boys, he had to finish a school term without textbooks. He wrote long afterward, "Sunshine was profusely intermingled with shadows, such as are naturally cast on a defenseless orphan . . ." and they went on to tell that many people were kind to him and that he began to make friends over his laundry tub and bar of soap.
During George's second year in Fort Scott, he worked a few hours a day for a colored blacksmith, sweeping the stable and grooming and delivering newly shod horses. Late one afternoon, returning to his room from the blacksmith shop, he watched in horror as a Negro man was dragged from the jail and lynched.
During the night, the troubled boy bundled up his few belongings and fled from Fort Scott , never to return.
During the next several years, George moved through the Western country, always managing to attend school. In the spring of 1885, by which time he was nearly six feet tall and had given himself the middle name of Washington, the proud young man graduated from Minneapolis, Kansas High School. He immediately applied for admission to Highland College , a small Presbyterian school in northeast Kansas , and was accepted for the semester beginning September 20,1885 . He spent the summer in Kansas City learning shorthand and typing, and working to accumulate a few dollars to tide him over at college until he could find employment.
On September 20, George arrived at Highland and presented himself to the principal, the Reverend Duncan Brown , D.D. , who had signed his admission acceptance. Dr. Brown shook his head, "There has been a mistake. You didn't tell me you were Negro. Highland College does not take Negroes."
Please continue your reading to page: http://www.nps.gov/archive/gwca/expanded/gwc_tour_03.htm
Other links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Washington_Carver
http://inventors.about.com/library/weekly/aa041897.htm
http://www.tuskegee.edu/Global/story.asp?S=1107203
http://www.ideafinder.com/history/inventors/carver.htm
Original post : America's Ambedkar
The fisherwoman
The above picture is of a fisherwoman from my very own city, Mumbai. Since India is surrounded by sea be three sides, we have large population that basically prefers sea-food in their daily meals. And therefore fisher community has a special position in our society.
In the state Goa, it is said that the people are so mad for sea-food that when Lord Ganesh comes to their house for 1.5 or 5 days, they have to be strictly vegetarian as per rituals. But on the last day, they bring a bag full of fishes and place it outside the back door and as soon as Lord Ganesh leaves the house from the front door, this 10th Avatar of Lord Vishnu (i.e. Fish) enters their house from back door.
Though I'm totally vegetarian by birth but I can imagine this madness and also the beauty of fish marvels me, specially the eyes. In India, many girls are named "Meenakshi" which means the (beautiful) eyes of the fish (Meen= Fish and Aksh = eyes).
The other thing that attracts me is a splendour of the fisherwoman. Their ornaments, sarees, style of wearing it, it's design, blouse and their language as well. Also the fisher community in Maharashtra (Koli) is famous for their group dance.
In the state Goa, it is said that the people are so mad for sea-food that when Lord Ganesh comes to their house for 1.5 or 5 days, they have to be strictly vegetarian as per rituals. But on the last day, they bring a bag full of fishes and place it outside the back door and as soon as Lord Ganesh leaves the house from the front door, this 10th Avatar of Lord Vishnu (i.e. Fish) enters their house from back door.
Though I'm totally vegetarian by birth but I can imagine this madness and also the beauty of fish marvels me, specially the eyes. In India, many girls are named "Meenakshi" which means the (beautiful) eyes of the fish (Meen= Fish and Aksh = eyes).
The other thing that attracts me is a splendour of the fisherwoman. Their ornaments, sarees, style of wearing it, it's design, blouse and their language as well. Also the fisher community in Maharashtra (Koli) is famous for their group dance.
The fisherwoman is the symbol of independence and decision making. Since the husbands are high seas for capturing fishes, the fisherwoman has to sell fishes and look after the house as well. Usually they bring fishes in the large basket which they carry on the head and sell it either home to home or by sitting in the market.
I always see these women traveling in the crowded trains in the peak-hours where entering the train compartment especially with large basket in really a difficult task but they do it everyday. And then each day they have quarrel with regular commuters since regular commuters expect them to travel by the luggage compartment which is also highly crowded. This quarrel usually ends up with the slang language used by fisherwomen for which they are quite famous.
But as a linguist, I can understand the reason behind the slang language. Usually husbands of these fisherwomen are on the high seas for weeks. And in India, husband is supposed to protect and take care of the wife life-long. But since he is unavailable and also everyday there is a long tour to do in order to sell fish, there is no protection available particularly from rogues and rascals. Therefore the slang language and fury is the part of their personality.
However, fishermen language has special place as a colloquial language in Marathi and it is playing a big role to survive Marathi mainly against the global attack of English language because of which Marathi language is diminishing fast. I think that only colloquial languages will help to survive the root languages.
The second unusual thing of these Koli women is that they always wear large number of pure gold ornaments which are traditional and unique. Sometimes they even wear gold ornaments weighing a kilo or more. Their thick fish shaped earrings are very special and it could be of 100 grams at a time. As per tradition it is Stree-dhan (Woman’s own treasure) and it comes hereditary generations to generations from mother to daughter and it is saved particularly to use in the calamity for the family.
No chain snatcher or thug, even in the crowded railway stations dares to touch it. As she or he if caught will be assaulted first by the language and then by the hand where one hand strike will be enough to hospitalize that chain snatcher.
Therefore today, on the first day of Navaratra festival, I’ll say that a fisherwoman is the symbol of strength, the Goddess Amba, Durga, Chamunda, Kalika, Bhavani, Jagadamba or Renuka.
I bow to their courage and independence.
I always see these women traveling in the crowded trains in the peak-hours where entering the train compartment especially with large basket in really a difficult task but they do it everyday. And then each day they have quarrel with regular commuters since regular commuters expect them to travel by the luggage compartment which is also highly crowded. This quarrel usually ends up with the slang language used by fisherwomen for which they are quite famous.
But as a linguist, I can understand the reason behind the slang language. Usually husbands of these fisherwomen are on the high seas for weeks. And in India, husband is supposed to protect and take care of the wife life-long. But since he is unavailable and also everyday there is a long tour to do in order to sell fish, there is no protection available particularly from rogues and rascals. Therefore the slang language and fury is the part of their personality.
However, fishermen language has special place as a colloquial language in Marathi and it is playing a big role to survive Marathi mainly against the global attack of English language because of which Marathi language is diminishing fast. I think that only colloquial languages will help to survive the root languages.
The second unusual thing of these Koli women is that they always wear large number of pure gold ornaments which are traditional and unique. Sometimes they even wear gold ornaments weighing a kilo or more. Their thick fish shaped earrings are very special and it could be of 100 grams at a time. As per tradition it is Stree-dhan (Woman’s own treasure) and it comes hereditary generations to generations from mother to daughter and it is saved particularly to use in the calamity for the family.
No chain snatcher or thug, even in the crowded railway stations dares to touch it. As she or he if caught will be assaulted first by the language and then by the hand where one hand strike will be enough to hospitalize that chain snatcher.
Therefore today, on the first day of Navaratra festival, I’ll say that a fisherwoman is the symbol of strength, the Goddess Amba, Durga, Chamunda, Kalika, Bhavani, Jagadamba or Renuka.
I bow to their courage and independence.
Original post : The fisherwoman
Willpower
On NDTV, Benzir Bhutto claimed that India's most wanted criminal and an Islamic Terrorist Dawood Ibrahim who is wanted in Mumbai Bomb Blast case, is in Pakistan. Undoubtfully, it is her political move as it is an open truth for Indians last so many years. But does our Govt. have political willpower to bring him back to India for the trial?
Lets see the example of Israel and it's intelligence agency, "Mossad".
The capture of the demon Adolph Eichmann
Eichmann was born on March 19, 1906 near Cologne, Germany, into a middle class family. His family moved to Austria following the death of young Adolf''s mother. He spent his youth in Linz, Austria, which had also been Hitler's home town.
In 1939 Eichmann was appointed the head of Gestapo.
In January 1942, Heydrich and Eichmann along with 15 Nazi bureaucrats planned the extermination of the entire Jewish population of Europe and the Soviet Union, estimated at 11 million persons.
In August 1944, Eichmann reported to Himmler that as per his plan, approximately 4 million Jews had died in death camps and that an estimated 2 million had been killed by mobile units.
Following the surrender of Nazi Germany in May of 1945, Eichmann was arrested and confined to an American internment camp but managed to escape because his name was not yet well known.
Eichmann hid throughout Europe until 1950, before fleeing to Argentina with the aid of Nazi sympathizers. Once in South America, Eichmann sent for his family to join him. They eluded the authorities in Britain, Germany, and Israel who continued the search for various perpetrators of the Holocaust. It was through clues left by Eichmann's family, namely his sons Nikolas and Dieter, that authorities finally located Eichmann.
Finding Eichmann:
During this time, Eichmann lived under the false name of Ricardo Klement, which he had taken when he escaped Europe. His sons, however, sometimes used the family name of Eichmann. In 1957, Eichmann's son Nikolas became involved with an Argentinean girl named Sylvia. Not knowing that the girl was Jewish, Nikolas often made anti-Semitic remarks and boasted of his father's deeds during the war. Nickolas' remarks, coupled with the occasional use of his real last name, made the girl's father suspicious. He contacted a friend in Germany, jurist Fritz Bauer. Bauer, who was imprisoned by the Nazis twice during the war, devoted his life to the location and capture of Nazi war criminals. Bauer notified Israeli authorities with the information.
Though Israel was a new nation, it had already developed a skilled intelligence service. A special unit of that service was called Mossad. The unit was formed to track down and kill enemies of the state, but dedicated its first few decades to the capture of terrorists and war criminals. The head of Mossad, Isser Harel, immediately took charge of the hunt for Eichmann. He chose a special team of 30 agents, several of them survivors of the Holocaust, to assist in the operation. The Israeli government decided that Eichmann should not be assassinated, but brought back to Israel to stand trial. To further complicate the matter, once Eichmann was found, he would have to be kidnapped and smuggled to Israel, a violation of Argentinean legal sovereignty. Because many Nazi sympathizers found refuge in South America during the war, the Israelis knew that a diplomatic extradition would be difficult, if not impossible, to obtain.
The lead that Bauer gave Mossad turned into a dead end. When an agent tried to locate the family, he discovered that Eichmann and his family had moved, with no forwarding address. Another lead surfaced in 1959. One of Bauer's informants in Italy discovered the pseudonym that Eichmann used when he immigrated to South America. Another agent discovered that a gas meter on the house from the first tip still bore the name Klement. Authorities were convinced that the man was Eichmann.
Mossad hatched a simple plan to find Eichmann's new address. Around the time of Nikolas' birthday, Mossad hired an undercover agent to dress as a bellboy and approach Dieter Eichmann with a package that needed to be delivered to his brother, Nikolas. The undercover agent did not know anything else about the mission. Dieter refused to give the bellboy his brother's address, and took the package himself. Prepared for this outcome, the Mossad team sent the undercover agent back to Dieter a few days later. The agent told Dieter that the sender of the package believed that the package was not delivered and demanded that she be paid for its lost contents. Dieter claimed that the package was not delivered to Nikolas because he was confused about the name, Nikolas Klement, which appeared on the box. Dieter further explained that his brother used the surname Eichmann, so he thought the package belonged to his father, Ricardo Klement. Dieter then reluctantly gave the bellboy his father's address, 14, Garibaldi Street, San Fernando. Mossad agents watched the house for several weeks, tracking Eichmann's daily schedule. One evening, the subject believed to be Eichmann stepped off his usual bus carrying flowers. He was greeted at his home by several people who gathered for a party. The day corresponded with Eichmann's wedding anniversary. These facts convinced the Mossad agents that they had positively identified the subject as Adolf Eichmann.
Eichmann's Capture:
After locating Eichmann, agents then devised a plan for his capture and kidnapping. The Israeli team saw an opportunity to ferry Eichmann out of the country during the upcoming celebration of Argentina's 100th anniversary of independence. Several Israeli diplomats were invited to the celebration and would arrive on a specially chartered El Al flight. Agents knew Eichmann would have to be smuggled aboard this flight. Harel contacted the members of his select team who had remained in Israel awaiting further orders. Each agent was sent to a different city, from which he would depart for Argentina, supposedly to join the national celebrations. A series of safe houses was established. Once in Argentina, the Mossad agents changed locations and rental cars every day to avoid being tracked. On the evening of May 11, 1960, four agents were positioned in two cars near Eichmann's house on Garibaldi Street. They pretended to have car trouble. Eichmann was late getting home that evening, so two of the agents decided to leave. Two agents remained, continuing to occupy themselves with their car engine. At 8:30 in the evening, Eichmann alighted from his usual bus. He walked over the agents' car, offering assistance. The agents quickly overpowered Eichmann, put him in the car, and drove to the safe house.
The Mossad team had to keep Eichmann in their custody for several days until he could be smuggled aboard the departing El Al flight nine days later. He was shackled to his bed in the safe house, but was cooperative with Mossad agents. The team had counted on Eichmann's family not contacting local police. His family contacted several friends, trying to learn of his whereabouts, but none offered any information. They did not call the police for fear of drawing attention to Eichmann's real identity.
On May 20, 1960, Eichmann was slightly drugged and dressed in the uniform of an El Al crewmember. The agents who accompanied Eichmann were similarly dressed. A few days prior to their departure, the Mossad team sent one of their agents to a local doctor pretending to have a brain injury. He was issued a medical certificate for travel noting possible side effects, such as difficulty walking and speaking. The agents changed the name on the certificate to match Eichmann's new pseudonym, providing an alibi for his behavior while drugged.
Mossad was successful in its long mission. Eichmann landed safely in Israel on May 22, 1960. Eichmann stood trial for war crimes and crimes against humanity in Israel from April 2 to August 14, 1961. He was convicted and sentenced to death.
Eichmann was executed on May 31, 1962.
Lets see the example of Israel and it's intelligence agency, "Mossad".
The capture of the demon Adolph Eichmann
Eichmann was born on March 19, 1906 near Cologne, Germany, into a middle class family. His family moved to Austria following the death of young Adolf''s mother. He spent his youth in Linz, Austria, which had also been Hitler's home town.
In 1939 Eichmann was appointed the head of Gestapo.
In January 1942, Heydrich and Eichmann along with 15 Nazi bureaucrats planned the extermination of the entire Jewish population of Europe and the Soviet Union, estimated at 11 million persons.
In August 1944, Eichmann reported to Himmler that as per his plan, approximately 4 million Jews had died in death camps and that an estimated 2 million had been killed by mobile units.
Following the surrender of Nazi Germany in May of 1945, Eichmann was arrested and confined to an American internment camp but managed to escape because his name was not yet well known.
Eichmann hid throughout Europe until 1950, before fleeing to Argentina with the aid of Nazi sympathizers. Once in South America, Eichmann sent for his family to join him. They eluded the authorities in Britain, Germany, and Israel who continued the search for various perpetrators of the Holocaust. It was through clues left by Eichmann's family, namely his sons Nikolas and Dieter, that authorities finally located Eichmann.
Finding Eichmann:
During this time, Eichmann lived under the false name of Ricardo Klement, which he had taken when he escaped Europe. His sons, however, sometimes used the family name of Eichmann. In 1957, Eichmann's son Nikolas became involved with an Argentinean girl named Sylvia. Not knowing that the girl was Jewish, Nikolas often made anti-Semitic remarks and boasted of his father's deeds during the war. Nickolas' remarks, coupled with the occasional use of his real last name, made the girl's father suspicious. He contacted a friend in Germany, jurist Fritz Bauer. Bauer, who was imprisoned by the Nazis twice during the war, devoted his life to the location and capture of Nazi war criminals. Bauer notified Israeli authorities with the information.
Though Israel was a new nation, it had already developed a skilled intelligence service. A special unit of that service was called Mossad. The unit was formed to track down and kill enemies of the state, but dedicated its first few decades to the capture of terrorists and war criminals. The head of Mossad, Isser Harel, immediately took charge of the hunt for Eichmann. He chose a special team of 30 agents, several of them survivors of the Holocaust, to assist in the operation. The Israeli government decided that Eichmann should not be assassinated, but brought back to Israel to stand trial. To further complicate the matter, once Eichmann was found, he would have to be kidnapped and smuggled to Israel, a violation of Argentinean legal sovereignty. Because many Nazi sympathizers found refuge in South America during the war, the Israelis knew that a diplomatic extradition would be difficult, if not impossible, to obtain.
The lead that Bauer gave Mossad turned into a dead end. When an agent tried to locate the family, he discovered that Eichmann and his family had moved, with no forwarding address. Another lead surfaced in 1959. One of Bauer's informants in Italy discovered the pseudonym that Eichmann used when he immigrated to South America. Another agent discovered that a gas meter on the house from the first tip still bore the name Klement. Authorities were convinced that the man was Eichmann.
Mossad hatched a simple plan to find Eichmann's new address. Around the time of Nikolas' birthday, Mossad hired an undercover agent to dress as a bellboy and approach Dieter Eichmann with a package that needed to be delivered to his brother, Nikolas. The undercover agent did not know anything else about the mission. Dieter refused to give the bellboy his brother's address, and took the package himself. Prepared for this outcome, the Mossad team sent the undercover agent back to Dieter a few days later. The agent told Dieter that the sender of the package believed that the package was not delivered and demanded that she be paid for its lost contents. Dieter claimed that the package was not delivered to Nikolas because he was confused about the name, Nikolas Klement, which appeared on the box. Dieter further explained that his brother used the surname Eichmann, so he thought the package belonged to his father, Ricardo Klement. Dieter then reluctantly gave the bellboy his father's address, 14, Garibaldi Street, San Fernando. Mossad agents watched the house for several weeks, tracking Eichmann's daily schedule. One evening, the subject believed to be Eichmann stepped off his usual bus carrying flowers. He was greeted at his home by several people who gathered for a party. The day corresponded with Eichmann's wedding anniversary. These facts convinced the Mossad agents that they had positively identified the subject as Adolf Eichmann.
Eichmann's Capture:
After locating Eichmann, agents then devised a plan for his capture and kidnapping. The Israeli team saw an opportunity to ferry Eichmann out of the country during the upcoming celebration of Argentina's 100th anniversary of independence. Several Israeli diplomats were invited to the celebration and would arrive on a specially chartered El Al flight. Agents knew Eichmann would have to be smuggled aboard this flight. Harel contacted the members of his select team who had remained in Israel awaiting further orders. Each agent was sent to a different city, from which he would depart for Argentina, supposedly to join the national celebrations. A series of safe houses was established. Once in Argentina, the Mossad agents changed locations and rental cars every day to avoid being tracked. On the evening of May 11, 1960, four agents were positioned in two cars near Eichmann's house on Garibaldi Street. They pretended to have car trouble. Eichmann was late getting home that evening, so two of the agents decided to leave. Two agents remained, continuing to occupy themselves with their car engine. At 8:30 in the evening, Eichmann alighted from his usual bus. He walked over the agents' car, offering assistance. The agents quickly overpowered Eichmann, put him in the car, and drove to the safe house.
The Mossad team had to keep Eichmann in their custody for several days until he could be smuggled aboard the departing El Al flight nine days later. He was shackled to his bed in the safe house, but was cooperative with Mossad agents. The team had counted on Eichmann's family not contacting local police. His family contacted several friends, trying to learn of his whereabouts, but none offered any information. They did not call the police for fear of drawing attention to Eichmann's real identity.
On May 20, 1960, Eichmann was slightly drugged and dressed in the uniform of an El Al crewmember. The agents who accompanied Eichmann were similarly dressed. A few days prior to their departure, the Mossad team sent one of their agents to a local doctor pretending to have a brain injury. He was issued a medical certificate for travel noting possible side effects, such as difficulty walking and speaking. The agents changed the name on the certificate to match Eichmann's new pseudonym, providing an alibi for his behavior while drugged.
Mossad was successful in its long mission. Eichmann landed safely in Israel on May 22, 1960. Eichmann stood trial for war crimes and crimes against humanity in Israel from April 2 to August 14, 1961. He was convicted and sentenced to death.
Eichmann was executed on May 31, 1962.
Original post : Willpower
Hira
Dear All,
My mother's first death anniversary is nearing and there is no single day when I did not cry remembering her and what I realized that there is no option to Mother’s Love.
In Marathi we have a proverb that though the possessor of the three worlds (hell, heaven and earth), he is still beggar (if) without the mother. So true it is.
When it comes to mother’s love, we always remember the Story of Hirakani (Hira). Three and half centuries ago, in the kingdom of King Shivaji, there was a milkmaid called Hira. She was very young and was a mother of the baby child. Everyday she used to deliver milk to various families living on the Fort Raigad.
(The Fort Raigad was the Capital of Kingdom and it is a fort which has been described by European historians as 'The Gibralter of East'. The holy shrine has become vibrant by the gallantry, courage and patriotism of King Shivaji.
The sheer vertical rock face tearing into the sky above appears defiant and insurmountable. It has stemmed many a foreign aggression and protected the kingdom during those historic times.
When he first saw the place, King Shivaji could not help exclaim: "This Fort is formidable. All sides appear as if chiselled from a mountain of solid rock. Not even a blade of grass grows on the sheer vertical rock. This is a paragon to house the throne".
Built over 350 years ago, this main entrance to the Fort stands majestically. It is as imposing and stout today, as it was then! The design of this gate is an enigma. It defies detection of its location to the attacker. Blind curves enroute make it impossible for the attacker to use elephants to knock it down. In the battle of those historic times, elephants were used to demolish fort entrances.)
By the noon, Hira used to go to the fort, used to deliver the milk and used to come back before the sunset. At the sunset, the doors of the fort used to close and used to open next day at the sunrise.
One day, Hira, unfortunately stuck into the fort before she let out herself out prior to the sunset and as per routine, the doors of the fort closed. And suddenly the reality struck Hira that her baby is at home. She was agonized.
She had gone to door guards and requested them to open the door and told them that her baby is very small and she must breastfeed the baby at night.
Guards were too kind. They apologized and said, “Dear lady, we understand your inconvenience that might have caused, but as you know, our Kingdom is surrounded by the enemies who always attack us swiftly. Please be aware of our situation and kindly bear for one night, we will open the door at the first light of the day. Till that we will arrange you lodging and boarding with us.”
And Chief Guard arranged a small hut for her and his wife served her the dinner. At late night, Hira could not avoid remembering her baby and she decided to climb down the fort.
When early morning guard has come to awake her, he found that Hira is not there. Now everybody is amazed and has started speaking about Hira and soon Shivaji’s spy told Shivaji about the thing that happened.
Shivaji immediately asked his people to search for Hira because disappearance of a lady from the fort in the night was very harmful for the dignity of his ‘people oriented kingdom’. And shortly his spy brought the news that Hira is safe in her house.
King Shivaji sent a Palanquin to her house and asked her to give an honorable visit to him. Hira was very confused about all this and was a bit terrified too.
When she met King Shivaji, he asked her how and from where she got down and that is also in the midnight. Then she has shown him a place which was nearly 3000 feet deep steep rock where there was no fortification.
(As I said in my last blog “The Trek”, the rocks in Maharastra are solid basalt stones which are made up of Lava and sharp in nature. One wrong step could be a shortcut to the hell)
Shivaji appreciated her courage to climb down in the midnight through so dangerous way and asked his men to immediately build a bastion there so that no enemy could enter from that place. Then honored her with Gold wrist-ring and palanquin, cherished her valor and her love for the baby and named the bastion “Hira”. One can see this bastion today as well.
================================================================
Goodness of Breastmilk
It is recommended that all infants should be fed exclusively on breastmilk until they are six months of age and continued to be breastfed till 2 years or beyond. Breastfeeding is advantageous for all - you, your baby and the society.
Before your baby is born he is protected within your womb from all infections and after birth breastfeeding takes over the protection process.The milk which you secrete for the first few days known as colostrum should be given to your baby as it provides resistance to your baby against various diseases and infections.
Your milk is made especially for your own baby. It is the right nutrition for the growth of your baby. It is easy to digest and it contains protective substances which help prevent infection especially loose stools. You can give it even when you are ill, pregnant or menstruating.
Benefits your baby enjoys:
Breastfeeding provides numerous benefits to your baby which are as follows -
Breastmilk contains adequate calories and provides the right kind of proteins, fats, lactose, vitamins, iron, minerals, water and enzymes in the amounts necessary for your baby.
Breastmilk contains iron, water soluble Vitamin D, Vitamin A, C and E more than cow's milk.
Breastmilk is clean, free from bacteria and has anti-infective properties.
It also contains substances which prevent harmful bacteria from growing in intestines and causing loose stools.
It is ready to serve when the baby wants it, needs no preparation and it has the right temperature. ¥ It is economical and free from contamination.
Breastfeeding enhances the emotional bond between the child and the mother and provides warmth, love and affection and is more than food.
Breastfeeding protects the child against several infections including respiratory infections.
Breastfed babies are less prone to have diabetes, heart diseases, eczema, asthma and other allergic disorders later in life.
Breastfed babies have been shown to have a higher IQ (Intelligence Quotient) and develop better mathematical abilities than infants who are not breastfed.
Breastfeeding enhances brain development. There is better visual development and visual acuity leading to learning readiness.
Benefits you enjoy as a mother:
Breastfeeding has many advantages to the mother, which include the following -
It reduces post-delivery bleeding and chances of anemia.
Obesity is less common among breastfeeding mothers as it helps the mother regain her normal figure.
It has a contraceptive effect .
It has a protective effect against breast and ovarian cancers.
If you exclusively breastfeed your baby, you will have better adjustment with your baby.
Benefits the society enjoys:
Breastfeeding lowers health-care costs by reducing illness and deaths of children under five years of age and thus reduces the strain on the family budget.
It helps in reducing absenteism of mothers from work as exclusively breastfed children are less prone to diseases.Thus, it will prove less costly to the employer.
“Breastmilk is all that the baby needs for the first six months.” Breastmilk is an ideal food for your baby because it contains all the nutrients that a baby needs for first 6 months of life. It is quickly and easily digested and it contains fat, lactose, protein, vitamins, minerals (including iron), immunoglobulins, and water which are necessary for growth of your baby.
Colostrum-The first few days of breastmilk
During the first few days after delivery you produce a special milk known as colostrum which is thick, sticky and yellowish in colour.
It is easily digestible, contains anti-infective elements to protect your newborn against infections.
It stimulates your baby's immature intestines to develop, in order to digest and absorb milk and to prevent the absorption of undigested proteins.
Colostrum also has a mild "gut clearing effect", which helps your baby's gut to pass the first, very dark stool called meconium. It also helps to prevent jaundice by clearing the bilirubin from the gut.
Although colostrum is secreted in small quantities (30-90ml), it is sufficient to meet the energy needs of a normal newborn during the first few days of life.
My mother's first death anniversary is nearing and there is no single day when I did not cry remembering her and what I realized that there is no option to Mother’s Love.
In Marathi we have a proverb that though the possessor of the three worlds (hell, heaven and earth), he is still beggar (if) without the mother. So true it is.
When it comes to mother’s love, we always remember the Story of Hirakani (Hira). Three and half centuries ago, in the kingdom of King Shivaji, there was a milkmaid called Hira. She was very young and was a mother of the baby child. Everyday she used to deliver milk to various families living on the Fort Raigad.
(The Fort Raigad was the Capital of Kingdom and it is a fort which has been described by European historians as 'The Gibralter of East'. The holy shrine has become vibrant by the gallantry, courage and patriotism of King Shivaji.
The sheer vertical rock face tearing into the sky above appears defiant and insurmountable. It has stemmed many a foreign aggression and protected the kingdom during those historic times.
When he first saw the place, King Shivaji could not help exclaim: "This Fort is formidable. All sides appear as if chiselled from a mountain of solid rock. Not even a blade of grass grows on the sheer vertical rock. This is a paragon to house the throne".
Built over 350 years ago, this main entrance to the Fort stands majestically. It is as imposing and stout today, as it was then! The design of this gate is an enigma. It defies detection of its location to the attacker. Blind curves enroute make it impossible for the attacker to use elephants to knock it down. In the battle of those historic times, elephants were used to demolish fort entrances.)
By the noon, Hira used to go to the fort, used to deliver the milk and used to come back before the sunset. At the sunset, the doors of the fort used to close and used to open next day at the sunrise.
One day, Hira, unfortunately stuck into the fort before she let out herself out prior to the sunset and as per routine, the doors of the fort closed. And suddenly the reality struck Hira that her baby is at home. She was agonized.
She had gone to door guards and requested them to open the door and told them that her baby is very small and she must breastfeed the baby at night.
Guards were too kind. They apologized and said, “Dear lady, we understand your inconvenience that might have caused, but as you know, our Kingdom is surrounded by the enemies who always attack us swiftly. Please be aware of our situation and kindly bear for one night, we will open the door at the first light of the day. Till that we will arrange you lodging and boarding with us.”
And Chief Guard arranged a small hut for her and his wife served her the dinner. At late night, Hira could not avoid remembering her baby and she decided to climb down the fort.
When early morning guard has come to awake her, he found that Hira is not there. Now everybody is amazed and has started speaking about Hira and soon Shivaji’s spy told Shivaji about the thing that happened.
Shivaji immediately asked his people to search for Hira because disappearance of a lady from the fort in the night was very harmful for the dignity of his ‘people oriented kingdom’. And shortly his spy brought the news that Hira is safe in her house.
King Shivaji sent a Palanquin to her house and asked her to give an honorable visit to him. Hira was very confused about all this and was a bit terrified too.
When she met King Shivaji, he asked her how and from where she got down and that is also in the midnight. Then she has shown him a place which was nearly 3000 feet deep steep rock where there was no fortification.
(As I said in my last blog “The Trek”, the rocks in Maharastra are solid basalt stones which are made up of Lava and sharp in nature. One wrong step could be a shortcut to the hell)
Shivaji appreciated her courage to climb down in the midnight through so dangerous way and asked his men to immediately build a bastion there so that no enemy could enter from that place. Then honored her with Gold wrist-ring and palanquin, cherished her valor and her love for the baby and named the bastion “Hira”. One can see this bastion today as well.
================================================================
Goodness of Breastmilk
It is recommended that all infants should be fed exclusively on breastmilk until they are six months of age and continued to be breastfed till 2 years or beyond. Breastfeeding is advantageous for all - you, your baby and the society.
Before your baby is born he is protected within your womb from all infections and after birth breastfeeding takes over the protection process.The milk which you secrete for the first few days known as colostrum should be given to your baby as it provides resistance to your baby against various diseases and infections.
Your milk is made especially for your own baby. It is the right nutrition for the growth of your baby. It is easy to digest and it contains protective substances which help prevent infection especially loose stools. You can give it even when you are ill, pregnant or menstruating.
Benefits your baby enjoys:
Breastfeeding provides numerous benefits to your baby which are as follows -
Breastmilk contains adequate calories and provides the right kind of proteins, fats, lactose, vitamins, iron, minerals, water and enzymes in the amounts necessary for your baby.
Breastmilk contains iron, water soluble Vitamin D, Vitamin A, C and E more than cow's milk.
Breastmilk is clean, free from bacteria and has anti-infective properties.
It also contains substances which prevent harmful bacteria from growing in intestines and causing loose stools.
It is ready to serve when the baby wants it, needs no preparation and it has the right temperature. ¥ It is economical and free from contamination.
Breastfeeding enhances the emotional bond between the child and the mother and provides warmth, love and affection and is more than food.
Breastfeeding protects the child against several infections including respiratory infections.
Breastfed babies are less prone to have diabetes, heart diseases, eczema, asthma and other allergic disorders later in life.
Breastfed babies have been shown to have a higher IQ (Intelligence Quotient) and develop better mathematical abilities than infants who are not breastfed.
Breastfeeding enhances brain development. There is better visual development and visual acuity leading to learning readiness.
Benefits you enjoy as a mother:
Breastfeeding has many advantages to the mother, which include the following -
It reduces post-delivery bleeding and chances of anemia.
Obesity is less common among breastfeeding mothers as it helps the mother regain her normal figure.
It has a contraceptive effect .
It has a protective effect against breast and ovarian cancers.
If you exclusively breastfeed your baby, you will have better adjustment with your baby.
Benefits the society enjoys:
Breastfeeding lowers health-care costs by reducing illness and deaths of children under five years of age and thus reduces the strain on the family budget.
It helps in reducing absenteism of mothers from work as exclusively breastfed children are less prone to diseases.Thus, it will prove less costly to the employer.
“Breastmilk is all that the baby needs for the first six months.” Breastmilk is an ideal food for your baby because it contains all the nutrients that a baby needs for first 6 months of life. It is quickly and easily digested and it contains fat, lactose, protein, vitamins, minerals (including iron), immunoglobulins, and water which are necessary for growth of your baby.
Colostrum-The first few days of breastmilk
During the first few days after delivery you produce a special milk known as colostrum which is thick, sticky and yellowish in colour.
It is easily digestible, contains anti-infective elements to protect your newborn against infections.
It stimulates your baby's immature intestines to develop, in order to digest and absorb milk and to prevent the absorption of undigested proteins.
Colostrum also has a mild "gut clearing effect", which helps your baby's gut to pass the first, very dark stool called meconium. It also helps to prevent jaundice by clearing the bilirubin from the gut.
Although colostrum is secreted in small quantities (30-90ml), it is sufficient to meet the energy needs of a normal newborn during the first few days of life.
Original post : Hira
Friday, 21 November 2008
माझा खोटारडेपणा
बराक ओबामा काल मला स्वत: म्हणाले, यंदाचा ख्रिसमस तुम्ही व्हाईट हाऊसमध्ये घालवायचा
बरं का ! नाहीतर तुमच्याशी कट्टी.
.
टॉम क्रुझ माझ्या बुटांना पॉलिश करताना म्हणाला, सादा पॉलिश की पेशल?
.
जयललिता माझी साडी पाहून म्हणाल्या, अय्या माझ्याकडे का नाही अशी साडी?
.
हल्ली योगविद्येत मी इतकी तरबेज झालेली आहे की पाण्यावरून पण सहज चालू शकते.
.
माझी माऊ हिमेश रेशमियाची गाणी तल्लीन होऊन ऐकते.
.
.
आपण पण कल्पनेच्या विमानात बसून खोटेपणाच्या विश्वात भरारी घेऊ शकता आणि अश्या ५ थापा
इथे लिहू शकता. मात्र १) ह्या थापा निर्मळ, हलक्या फुलक्या असाव्यात २) राजकीय भाष्ये टाळावीत
उदा. राज व भैय्या इ. पण राजकीय मंडळी चालतील. वानगीदाखल सांगायचे म्हणजे परवाच मी, राज आणि उद्धव चहाच्या टपरीवर कटिंग चहा तिथली चविष्ट खारी बिस्किटे बुडवून प्यायलो. ३) ही
थाप जेमतेम १-१. ५ ओळीची असावी. ४) वैयक्तिक दोषारोप करणे टाळावे. ५) लोकांना परिचित
व्यक्तींचाच उल्लेख करावा. अपरिचित नातेवाईक वै.चा उल्लेख टाळावा. ६) ह्या थापा मन प्रफुल्लित
करणाऱ्या असाव्यात. वाचून छान वाटले पाहिजे.
बरं का ! नाहीतर तुमच्याशी कट्टी.
.
टॉम क्रुझ माझ्या बुटांना पॉलिश करताना म्हणाला, सादा पॉलिश की पेशल?
.
जयललिता माझी साडी पाहून म्हणाल्या, अय्या माझ्याकडे का नाही अशी साडी?
.
हल्ली योगविद्येत मी इतकी तरबेज झालेली आहे की पाण्यावरून पण सहज चालू शकते.
.
माझी माऊ हिमेश रेशमियाची गाणी तल्लीन होऊन ऐकते.
.
.
आपण पण कल्पनेच्या विमानात बसून खोटेपणाच्या विश्वात भरारी घेऊ शकता आणि अश्या ५ थापा
इथे लिहू शकता. मात्र १) ह्या थापा निर्मळ, हलक्या फुलक्या असाव्यात २) राजकीय भाष्ये टाळावीत
उदा. राज व भैय्या इ. पण राजकीय मंडळी चालतील. वानगीदाखल सांगायचे म्हणजे परवाच मी, राज आणि उद्धव चहाच्या टपरीवर कटिंग चहा तिथली चविष्ट खारी बिस्किटे बुडवून प्यायलो. ३) ही
थाप जेमतेम १-१. ५ ओळीची असावी. ४) वैयक्तिक दोषारोप करणे टाळावे. ५) लोकांना परिचित
व्यक्तींचाच उल्लेख करावा. अपरिचित नातेवाईक वै.चा उल्लेख टाळावा. ६) ह्या थापा मन प्रफुल्लित
करणाऱ्या असाव्यात. वाचून छान वाटले पाहिजे.
Thursday, 20 November 2008
The skill
Yesterday Tom Cruise Called me and asked me my plans about this weekend.
*
Osama had Iftaar Party where I was a chief guest and the food there was truly delicious.
*
I'll be going to the Moon in 2008 as a tourist.
*
If you come to Mumbai, you will find that in the middle of the sea, the construction of the 5 star hotel is in progress. It is designed by me.
*
I'm so much expert in Yoga that I can walk on the water surface smoothly.
*
*
*
*
Friends, do you have better 5 lies than me?
Original post : The skill
*
Osama had Iftaar Party where I was a chief guest and the food there was truly delicious.
*
I'll be going to the Moon in 2008 as a tourist.
*
If you come to Mumbai, you will find that in the middle of the sea, the construction of the 5 star hotel is in progress. It is designed by me.
*
I'm so much expert in Yoga that I can walk on the water surface smoothly.
*
*
*
*
Friends, do you have better 5 lies than me?
Original post : The skill
Diwali is here
The greatest Indian festival of lights, crackers, sweets, fragrance, new clothes and Rangoli “Diwali Festival” is here. And in my state it is a festival of Magazines too.
In Maharashtra, it is a nearly 100 year’s tradition to publish special magazines in Diwali. Some Magazines are yearly and get published in Diwali only while some magazines are monthly and on Diwali they have special issue. Some big local newspapers also publish the Diwali Magazines.
We are not great readers as Bengali people do. But no Marathi house will be without a Diwali magazine in house. Every true Marathi house purchases at least one Diwali Magazine. Every year in Diwali nearly 300+ magazines are published and they contain various subjects like poems, autobiographies, stories, puzzles, interviews, crosswords, recipes, cartoons and general information etc. Sadly the television and other media is affecting it badly.
But the good thing is that nearly 15 of these magazines are dedicated to the children which help to encourage children to read. Also some publications keep special English section in their magazine considering the growing number of children learning in English medium. Of course it creates enthusiasm in them to read Marathi section too.
Also these magazines previously used to publish a painting on the cover page which was a great boost to the artists and many great artists / painters started their professional career by painting the Diwali Magazine cover page which used to be a great honor though now a day some Magazines print photo on their cover page. But still the drawing artist and cartoonist are highly benefited and recognized because of these Diwali Magazines.
Some book sellers give package offers too which contains various Diwali Magazines, scent, New Year calendar, and the Diwali programs tickets etc. as a marketing scheme.
Really reading the Diwali magazines is a great pleasure and indeed it is a tradition about which we all Marathi people are really proud of.
I still remember when I was kid, my Aunt used to give me the yearly subscription receipt of a Children’s Magazine “Kishor” as an “Owalani” (Diwali gift) on the day of Bhaaiduj when we used to do “Aukshan” to our brothers. This used to be a great moment of pleasure. These rituals were simply fantastic. I recall how we used to be eager to see that subscription receipt. I think todays children may not understand the feeling about it. Though that subscription was not costly, it was a treasure trove for us.
In Maharashtra, it is a nearly 100 year’s tradition to publish special magazines in Diwali. Some Magazines are yearly and get published in Diwali only while some magazines are monthly and on Diwali they have special issue. Some big local newspapers also publish the Diwali Magazines.
We are not great readers as Bengali people do. But no Marathi house will be without a Diwali magazine in house. Every true Marathi house purchases at least one Diwali Magazine. Every year in Diwali nearly 300+ magazines are published and they contain various subjects like poems, autobiographies, stories, puzzles, interviews, crosswords, recipes, cartoons and general information etc. Sadly the television and other media is affecting it badly.
But the good thing is that nearly 15 of these magazines are dedicated to the children which help to encourage children to read. Also some publications keep special English section in their magazine considering the growing number of children learning in English medium. Of course it creates enthusiasm in them to read Marathi section too.
Also these magazines previously used to publish a painting on the cover page which was a great boost to the artists and many great artists / painters started their professional career by painting the Diwali Magazine cover page which used to be a great honor though now a day some Magazines print photo on their cover page. But still the drawing artist and cartoonist are highly benefited and recognized because of these Diwali Magazines.
Some book sellers give package offers too which contains various Diwali Magazines, scent, New Year calendar, and the Diwali programs tickets etc. as a marketing scheme.
Really reading the Diwali magazines is a great pleasure and indeed it is a tradition about which we all Marathi people are really proud of.
I still remember when I was kid, my Aunt used to give me the yearly subscription receipt of a Children’s Magazine “Kishor” as an “Owalani” (Diwali gift) on the day of Bhaaiduj when we used to do “Aukshan” to our brothers. This used to be a great moment of pleasure. These rituals were simply fantastic. I recall how we used to be eager to see that subscription receipt. I think todays children may not understand the feeling about it. Though that subscription was not costly, it was a treasure trove for us.
Original post : Diwali is here
My religion
Dear All,
Last week in Marathi newspapers, there was news in block letters that trusties of Lord Mangesh Temple, Goa has refused entry to a handy-cap boy with the leather leg brace boots in the temple.
The funniest thing is that Lord Mangesh is an Avatar of Lord Shankar who himself wears the skin of the tiger as we see in many paintings.
Lord Mangesh is a well known temple in Goa and especially he is a God of Many family from the Race of Saraswat Community. Unfortunately we do not observe that well known intellectuals from this community had come up to protest against it.
I personally feel that Hindu religion is very flexible and slowly it accepts the changes if large volume of people demand for it. The main reason is that it’s diversity regarding Gods, Holy book, streams of faith and disciples. No single thought, god or a holy book can rule it.
In this situation, in the point of humanity, we must all come together and protest against such old fashioned concept.
I also take an opportunity to discuss about other wrong things that has prevailed in the Hindu religion and which does not have support in ancient literature.
1) Caste-ism – In ancient time, the profession used to decide caste. For example, those were warriors are considered Kshatriya, those who like to serve with their crafts and skills are considered Shudra, those who like to do business are considered Vaishya and those who like to take higher education and teach used to be considered as Brahmins.
The caste was merit wise and not birth wise. Kshatriya was the one who is ready to fight against demons for the good cause. Brahmin is the one who is a scholar and who never lies etc.
Now caste-ism is a curse to Hindu religion which is like a white ant destroying the society slowly. The amusing thing that I observed is that in the downtrodden people also there is a feeling of superiority in some sub-caste and they behave rudely with other sub caste people.
2) Gender discrimination and dowry – Previously there was an exchange of cows from the both side in very ancient times in India as a gesture of honor to each other at the time of marriage. I think, it was also mainly for bringing up better breed by exchanging cows like we have hybrid cows these days. Also in some parts of Africa same tradition is still exist especially in the Savana province where there are limitless long grass courtyards where cows are main way of income.
But unfortunately, today in India dowry system has taken very bad shape. And especially bride side people suffer and therefore there is gender discrimination particularly in Punjab, BIMARU states (Bihar, M.P., Rajsthan and U.P.) and Tamilnadu where dowry system at it’s high and dowry harassment / deaths as well.
Also still boy child is given priority in every sector of life.
3) Wrong rituals and it’s commercialization – Most of the rituals /festivals are now celebrated in wrong way and they are commercialized e.g. Shravan is the month where one should go to the nature and experience it’s beauty and all the rituals are formed in that manner but instead of going to the nature and collection flowers and leafs, now people prefer to buy them in market at higher price. In my city in every Shravan, large number of tree branches and brought from nearby villages for sale where the destruction takes place. It is the same case with the snake. On Nagpanchami, instead of going to the snake habitat, people prefer worship them on the streets which are brought by snake-charmers and which are mal-treated by most of these illiterate snake-charmers.
4) No home come back – Those who converted especially in last thousand years, they were boycotted by the society on the large scale and there was no marriage relation between the society and converted people in particular. The Hindu religion’s door was closed to them permanently even if they want to come back. It really affected the religion and it’s population.
Of course, now the things are changing slowly. I know a case where a family was told that there bed-ridden son will be cured by Jesus Christ if they become Christian. So the family accepted Christianized but gradually that son died and the family realized that medicine can cure the diseases and not only the faith. Now they are back to the Hindu-ism. But such cases are still less.
5) Woman education – Still in our society, there is a low rate of woman literacy. Previously, in our ancient literature there are proofs that women were highly literate and they used to discuss the great topics in the Royal courts. There were scholars like Gargi, Maitreyi, Sulabha. Some even wrote the verses in Vedas and Upnishadas.
Unfortunately, I still remember that I had a grandfather who gave up the normal life and became swami Tattamanand and who used to live in Kashi for the sake of study of ancient litterature. Nearly a decade ago, I wrote him a letter in Sanskrit and he replied to me that women are not allowed to speak Sanskrit. I was very disappointed with his attitude and argued with him. The most amusing thing was that he was a well-known Engineer of his times and had higher studies from Mumbai University the last century. But this is the case of woman’s education of our country.
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Lastly, I’ll say that there are good things as well in my religion. There is an openness and freedom of speech and therefore I can openly write about demerits of my religion. There will be no Fatwa against me for doing so. No resistance will be there from the worship centre as today it is there in western countries against the abortion.
But also nobody should take this freedom of expression wrongly as M.F. Hussain has taken and nobody should harm the faith of Millions.
Do you argee with me?
Original post : My religion
Looking forward to Goal
Today the movie "Goal" is releasing which is based on the football team of Indians in England. John, Bipasha, Boman and Arshad Warsi are the main characters. It will be second film on the game after "Chak De" from Bollywood in this year. And I hope it will be as successful as "Chak De".
Looking forward to watch it in Cinema-hall soon (Otherwise, I prefer to watch the new films on Cable TV because if the movie in the Cinema-hall is not so interesting then Rs. 100/- + in vain ;-) so I usually rely on news-paper review)
In my school days, I used to play Kho-Kho, the speedy Indian Game which requires high physical stamina and the dodging skill. It is a game of just 36 minutes. Two teams of 9 players (3 reserves) play 9 minutes alternatively. And the technique is Run-Chase.
But this each 9 minute play is also very exhaustive but worth watching. Unfortunately, no video version of this game is available on the net to show it.
Because I love games like this, I find Cricket rather dull. I truly think that it is a waste of time not only of players but of millions of spectator who watch it day and night. I dislike the way cricket mania is there in India. Especially, the way people watch cricket in office hours, avoiding the work and keeping people on wait.
Hope 20-20 cricket will end these 50 over match and test match system soon.
On the other hand, the games like Kho-Kho, Football and hockey attract me. They are speedy and they finish within hour or two.
Looking forward to watch it in Cinema-hall soon (Otherwise, I prefer to watch the new films on Cable TV because if the movie in the Cinema-hall is not so interesting then Rs. 100/- + in vain ;-) so I usually rely on news-paper review)
In my school days, I used to play Kho-Kho, the speedy Indian Game which requires high physical stamina and the dodging skill. It is a game of just 36 minutes. Two teams of 9 players (3 reserves) play 9 minutes alternatively. And the technique is Run-Chase.
But this each 9 minute play is also very exhaustive but worth watching. Unfortunately, no video version of this game is available on the net to show it.
Because I love games like this, I find Cricket rather dull. I truly think that it is a waste of time not only of players but of millions of spectator who watch it day and night. I dislike the way cricket mania is there in India. Especially, the way people watch cricket in office hours, avoiding the work and keeping people on wait.
Hope 20-20 cricket will end these 50 over match and test match system soon.
On the other hand, the games like Kho-Kho, Football and hockey attract me. They are speedy and they finish within hour or two.
Kho-Kho ranks as one of the most popular traditional sports in India. The origin of Kho-Kho is difficult to trace, but many historians believe, that it is a modified form of 'Run Chase', which in its simplest form involves chasing and touching a person. With its origins in Maharashtra, Kho-Kho in ancient times, was played on chariots (rath), and was known as Rathera.
Like all Indian games, it is simple, inexpensive and enjoyable. It does, however, demand physical fitness, strength, speed and stamina, and a certain amount of ability. Dodging, feinting and bursts of controlled speed make this game quite thrilling. To catch by pursuit - to chase, rather than just run - is the capstone of Kho-Kho.The game develops qualities such as obedience, discipline, sportsmanship, and loyalty between team members.
How the game is played
Each team consists of twelve players, but only nine players take the field for a contest. A match consists of two innings. An innings consists of chasing and running turns of 7 minutes each. Eight members of the chasing team sit in their eight squares on the central lane, alternately facing the opposite direction, while the ninth member is an active chaser, and stands at either of the posts, ready to begin the pursuit. Members of the chasing team have to put their opponent out, touching them with their palms, but without committing a foul. All the action in Kho-Kho is provided by the defenders, who try to play out the 7 minutes time, and the chasers who try to dismiss them. A defender can be dismissed in three ways: 1) if he is touched by an active chaser with his palm without committing a foul, 2) if he goes out of the limits on his own, 3) if he enters the limit late.
Defenders enter the limit, in batches of three. After the third and last defender of batch is out, the next batch must enter the limits, before a 'kho' is given by the successful active chaser. Defenders have full freedom of movement on both sides of the central lane, but the active chaser cannot change the direction to which he is committed. He cannot cross the central lane. An active chaser can change position with a seated chaser, by touching him from behind by palm, and uttering the word 'kho' loudly, and simultaneously, chase or attack is build up through a series of 'khos' as the chase continues with a relay of chasers.
At the end of the innings there is an interval of 5 minutes and an interval of 2 minutes, in between the turns. Each side alternates between chasing and defense.
Kho-Kho can be played by men, women, and children of all ages. The game requires a very small piece of evenly surfaced ground, rectangular in shape, and 27m by 15m. The only equipments required are the two poles. The game lasts no more than 37 minutes.
Like all Indian games, it is simple, inexpensive and enjoyable. It does, however, demand physical fitness, strength, speed and stamina, and a certain amount of ability. Dodging, feinting and bursts of controlled speed make this game quite thrilling. To catch by pursuit - to chase, rather than just run - is the capstone of Kho-Kho.The game develops qualities such as obedience, discipline, sportsmanship, and loyalty between team members.
How the game is played
Each team consists of twelve players, but only nine players take the field for a contest. A match consists of two innings. An innings consists of chasing and running turns of 7 minutes each. Eight members of the chasing team sit in their eight squares on the central lane, alternately facing the opposite direction, while the ninth member is an active chaser, and stands at either of the posts, ready to begin the pursuit. Members of the chasing team have to put their opponent out, touching them with their palms, but without committing a foul. All the action in Kho-Kho is provided by the defenders, who try to play out the 7 minutes time, and the chasers who try to dismiss them. A defender can be dismissed in three ways: 1) if he is touched by an active chaser with his palm without committing a foul, 2) if he goes out of the limits on his own, 3) if he enters the limit late.
Defenders enter the limit, in batches of three. After the third and last defender of batch is out, the next batch must enter the limits, before a 'kho' is given by the successful active chaser. Defenders have full freedom of movement on both sides of the central lane, but the active chaser cannot change the direction to which he is committed. He cannot cross the central lane. An active chaser can change position with a seated chaser, by touching him from behind by palm, and uttering the word 'kho' loudly, and simultaneously, chase or attack is build up through a series of 'khos' as the chase continues with a relay of chasers.
At the end of the innings there is an interval of 5 minutes and an interval of 2 minutes, in between the turns. Each side alternates between chasing and defense.
Kho-Kho can be played by men, women, and children of all ages. The game requires a very small piece of evenly surfaced ground, rectangular in shape, and 27m by 15m. The only equipments required are the two poles. The game lasts no more than 37 minutes.
Original post and comments : Looking forward to Goal
Passion
When I was young, I was really mad about "Instant Coffee". It was a kind of obsession.
Early morning, I used to wake up with the thought of Coffee’s preparation and taste. And I was very particular about Coffee Steel Mug, filtering and boiling fresh milk, milk plastic filter, adding particular spoons of coffee and sugar etc.
I used to drink my favorite a bit bitter coffee, only once a day and not like tea drinkers every now and then. But I used to spare atleast quarter of my day to prepare and drink it slowly and dedicated.
Even my relatives used to laugh at me for this madness.
(I used to buy Girnar Coffee or Tata Café in order to buy Indian products though secretly I used to love the “Bru” taste).
But second last year, I suffered mumps and all of a sudden I had developed aversion for the instant coffee.
For many days, I was without coffee. But later a friend of mine, brought a small filter coffee pot for me from Tamil Nadu.
And now I’m obsessed with making and tasting filter coffee. It’s a ritual to prepare the filter coffee. In Mumbai, there is a village called Matunga which is affectionately called as a Matungam` since it has large volume of south Indian product selling shops. There are many shops that sell freshly grinded coffee beans’ powder. I buy coffee powder from them.
Then I put 4 tea spoon coffee powder in my small filter coffee pot and pour hot water on it. And then wait to get it filtered drop by drop.
Later as per need, I add hot milk and sugar to it and drink 2-3 times a day.
I also try to pour hot prepared coffee from one small steel glass to another from the height of 3-4 feet as waiters from some hotels from Matungam do holding the both glasses in each hand. But I’m not much successful about it yet.
Sometimes, therefore I visit restaurants for the tasty filter coffee and of course, traditional Dosa with it (as described by my friend My D Lee in her blog).
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I forgot to mention that there is usually quarrel between boys and girls over Tea and Coffee because in Maharashtra, mostly only girls prefer coffee while boys are fanatic tea-drinkers (Pakka Chaaibaaj).
Our successful slogan, in a Sanskrit camp was "चायपानं महापापं, काफीपानम् अमृततुल्यम्" (Tea drinking is a big sin while coffee drinking is equal to drinking nectar).
Early morning, I used to wake up with the thought of Coffee’s preparation and taste. And I was very particular about Coffee Steel Mug, filtering and boiling fresh milk, milk plastic filter, adding particular spoons of coffee and sugar etc.
I used to drink my favorite a bit bitter coffee, only once a day and not like tea drinkers every now and then. But I used to spare atleast quarter of my day to prepare and drink it slowly and dedicated.
Even my relatives used to laugh at me for this madness.
(I used to buy Girnar Coffee or Tata Café in order to buy Indian products though secretly I used to love the “Bru” taste).
But second last year, I suffered mumps and all of a sudden I had developed aversion for the instant coffee.
For many days, I was without coffee. But later a friend of mine, brought a small filter coffee pot for me from Tamil Nadu.
And now I’m obsessed with making and tasting filter coffee. It’s a ritual to prepare the filter coffee. In Mumbai, there is a village called Matunga which is affectionately called as a Matungam` since it has large volume of south Indian product selling shops. There are many shops that sell freshly grinded coffee beans’ powder. I buy coffee powder from them.
Then I put 4 tea spoon coffee powder in my small filter coffee pot and pour hot water on it. And then wait to get it filtered drop by drop.
Later as per need, I add hot milk and sugar to it and drink 2-3 times a day.
I also try to pour hot prepared coffee from one small steel glass to another from the height of 3-4 feet as waiters from some hotels from Matungam do holding the both glasses in each hand. But I’m not much successful about it yet.
Sometimes, therefore I visit restaurants for the tasty filter coffee and of course, traditional Dosa with it (as described by my friend My D Lee in her blog).
*
*
I forgot to mention that there is usually quarrel between boys and girls over Tea and Coffee because in Maharashtra, mostly only girls prefer coffee while boys are fanatic tea-drinkers (Pakka Chaaibaaj).
Our successful slogan, in a Sanskrit camp was "चायपानं महापापं, काफीपानम् अमृततुल्यम्" (Tea drinking is a big sin while coffee drinking is equal to drinking nectar).
Original post and comments : Passion
Intense
I saw this photo as a profile Icon of MINHNGOC on my friend Munnabhai's 360 page.
It reminded me a comment which is by a famous thinker, probably Aristotle that “If someone has sex related thought after seeing the picture of Mother Breastfeeding the child then there is nothing vulgar than that in this world”.
It reminded me a comment which is by a famous thinker, probably Aristotle that “If someone has sex related thought after seeing the picture of Mother Breastfeeding the child then there is nothing vulgar than that in this world”.
So true it is since Mother and Child relation is so intimate and intense. And every person is a child of his / her mother.
I like Minhngoc’s other photos as well. Please click here to visit his 360 page.
Original post and comments : Intense
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Pledge and prayers
Last couple of day, media is covering the shoot out by two students on a fellow student in Gudgaon and his death on the spot. Indeed, it is shocking news for Indian Society as we were hearing such incidents happened in US, Germany, Finland etc. previously. Now we have experienced what would have happened to the parents of the unfortunate students who died in Virginia Tech tragedy.
Is it a side effect of world becoming a global village? And is it just a tip of an iceberg?
This reminded me my school days. Ours was the Girls' school. So there was too less physical fighting and there was jealousy, misunderstanding, and quarrels among the students but not hatred as such. The atmosphere was quite cultured and teachers were as parents. Truly, school was a second home.
This reminded me my school days. Ours was the Girls' school. So there was too less physical fighting and there was jealousy, misunderstanding, and quarrels among the students but not hatred as such. The atmosphere was quite cultured and teachers were as parents. Truly, school was a second home.
The best thing was that our school day used to begin with various prayers and a pledge which used to make the surrounding happy and tranquilized.
In the beginning, there used to be Vande Mataram (Bow to the Motherland), our national song. Then praising the Goddess Saraswati (As she is the Goddess of knowledge and education and as she possesses the power of speech, wisdom and learning).
या कुन्देन्दु- तुषारहार- धवला या शुभ्र- वस्त्रावृता या वीणावरदण्डमन्डितकरा या श्वेतपद्मासना या ब्रह्माच्युत- शंकर- प्रभृतिभिर्देवैः सदा वन्दिता सा मां पातु सरस्वती भगवती निःशेषजाड्यापहा १
[The Goddess Saraswati, who is fair as a Jasmine flower, the moon or a snow flake, who is dressed in white and whose hands are adorned by Veena (The Musical Instrument), who is seated in a white lotus, to whom (even) Lord Brahma, Lord Vishnu and Lord Mahesh etc. Gods pray, and who removes the dumbness thoroughly (by showering knowledge) may protect me.]
Then after 2-3 such small prayers in Sanskrit and Marathi, we used to take pledge which used be on first page of every text book.
Then after 2-3 such small prayers in Sanskrit and Marathi, we used to take pledge which used be on first page of every text book.
Pledge
India is my country. All Indians are my brothers and sisters.
I love my country, and I am proud of its rich and varied heritage. I shall always strive to be worthy of it. I shall give my parents, teachers and all elders respect, and treat everyone with courtesy. To my country and my people, I pledge my devotion. In their well-being and prosperity alone lies my happiness.
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Once I applied for the post of a translator in a big MNC and a project head over there asked me to write some lines in Devnagri Unicode font and send it via email as a sample.
Initially I was confused as what to write. Then I wrote the lines below from the pledge, reading which he was very happy.
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भारत मेरा देश है । सारे भारतीय मेरे बान्धव है ।
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At the end of the school day, we used sing the national Anthem “Jan Gan Man” loudly. Especially, we used to enjoy last line “Jay hey, Jay hey, Jay hey, Jay Jay Jay Jay hey”. Since after the last “Hey” we used be free birds.
(At around, Independence Day or republic day, if the Media person catches me in the public place and asks me to recite the national song or an anthem, I’m sure that I could recite it fully and confidently.)
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At the end of the school day, we used sing the national Anthem “Jan Gan Man” loudly. Especially, we used to enjoy last line “Jay hey, Jay hey, Jay hey, Jay Jay Jay Jay hey”. Since after the last “Hey” we used be free birds.
(At around, Independence Day or republic day, if the Media person catches me in the public place and asks me to recite the national song or an anthem, I’m sure that I could recite it fully and confidently.)
Original post and comments : Pledge and prayers
We'd cruise along the Milky Way and land upon the moon.
On my last blog, my friend Abhishek commented that our childhood was lucky as media was not corrupted so much.
Yes, I still remember that time media was observing self discipline and programms were good specially for children. There were no cartoon channels 24*7 as now days. We used to be eager for Sunday as there was Micky and Donald programm for one full hour in the morning.
There was one more animation serial which was a treasure trove for us called Fireball XL-5.
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This serial was made in 1960 while man set his foot on the moon on July 20, 1969. Isn't it wonderful?
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The best was it's end song in lyrics as well as voice. Let's see it's video as well -
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I wish I was a space man. The fastest guy alive. I'd fly you round the universe, In Fireball XL-5. Way out in space together, Compass of the sky, My heart would be a fireball, A fireball, Everytime I gazed into your starry eyes. We'd take the path to Jupiter, And maybe very soon. We'd cruise along the Milky Way, And land upon the moon. To our wonderland of stardust, We'll zoom our way to Mars, My heart would be a fireball, A fireball, If you would be my Venus of the stars.
Original post : Fireball XL-5
Yes, I still remember that time media was observing self discipline and programms were good specially for children. There were no cartoon channels 24*7 as now days. We used to be eager for Sunday as there was Micky and Donald programm for one full hour in the morning.
There was one more animation serial which was a treasure trove for us called Fireball XL-5.
>
>
This serial was made in 1960 while man set his foot on the moon on July 20, 1969. Isn't it wonderful?
>
>
The best was it's end song in lyrics as well as voice. Let's see it's video as well -
>
>
I wish I was a space man. The fastest guy alive. I'd fly you round the universe, In Fireball XL-5. Way out in space together, Compass of the sky, My heart would be a fireball, A fireball, Everytime I gazed into your starry eyes. We'd take the path to Jupiter, And maybe very soon. We'd cruise along the Milky Way, And land upon the moon. To our wonderland of stardust, We'll zoom our way to Mars, My heart would be a fireball, A fireball, If you would be my Venus of the stars.
Original post : Fireball XL-5
Bharatbhushan No. 2
Once upon a time, in Indian Cinema, there was a dumb hero called 'Bharat Bhushan' about whom people say that an assistant was needed to make fly move from his face. His voice was also monotonous. But fortunately, he got beautiful actresses as co-workers, Good musicians and poets for his most of the films and he was a hero of the many superhit films of his times.
In Marathi cinema also there were some super dumb heroes but fortunately they were rejected by the viewers too soon. It was a punishment to see these people as a main role hero and their expressionless face.
Now, there is one more name in this list. That is Imraan Hashmi. His all recent films are superhit either because of good and beautiful co-working heroins or the attractive music. Otherwise seeing his expression in the film is like seeing George Bush as a main Hero of a movie.
Original post : Bharatbhushan No. 2
In Marathi cinema also there were some super dumb heroes but fortunately they were rejected by the viewers too soon. It was a punishment to see these people as a main role hero and their expressionless face.
Now, there is one more name in this list. That is Imraan Hashmi. His all recent films are superhit either because of good and beautiful co-working heroins or the attractive music. Otherwise seeing his expression in the film is like seeing George Bush as a main Hero of a movie.
Original post : Bharatbhushan No. 2
Twilight
Sometimes we get washed away by the destiny and we have no way to complaint. We feel sad, low, and desperate. We experience ourselves like putting the sugarcane into crusher again and again until the last drop of sugarcane juice is extracted.
What do you do that time? Especially when you are alone and twilights' time come to grab you...
When I feel low, previously I used to go for long walk without direction, without having certain destination. I just used to wander on streets. But now a days I did not like walking much since roads in Mumbai are highly polluted, overcrowded and bumpy too. One has to take great care while walking.
Sometimes, I used to eat a lot and anything one after another meaningless (Science has also proved that depression could be the reason for obesity). But now since my mother is not there, we have very less variety of eatables at home.
Other thing that I do now days is to hear Music. I usually prefer listening selected Marathi songs mainly calm and classical based. Sometimes, I go for Hindi as well.
Yesterday, I like to hear the song “Yeh Safar Bahut Hain Kathin” which has very good meaning as well.It really soothed my mind.
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The heart is not pessimist,
just it is defeated,
the evening of the sorrow is long,
but still is evening only.
This journey is very difficult
but do not be disappointed
“O” fellow traveler.
The obstacles are not going to live long,
the destination is just on the next turn,
please believe my words,
believe my words,
do not be disappointed
“O” fellow traveler.
Someday, this convoy will find
the new soil, new sky which you eyes are looking for,
do not be disappointed
“O” fellow traveler.
Original post and comments : Twilight
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