Talking about his farewell party, my son said that his teacher had sung, 'This little shining light of mine, Angle let it shine...'This reminded me that as a little child one of my favourite rhymes was ' Mary Mary koikondery, how does your garden grow?' and my favourite game was 'Ice Boys'. Only years later did I figure out that they were 'Mary, quite contrary' and 'I Spy'. likewise SJ once insisted that his biology teacher taught him about 'edges and shells'. As it turned out the teacher was referring to 'adjacent cells'. Of course everybody has heard the one about a child who shocked his father when he repeated his Math lesson, "2+2, son of a bitch, is 4." It appears that the real words were '2+2, sum of which is 4'! The strangest of all such erronous utterances is my father's. He used to sing us the prayer he chanted as a schoolboy. And it went: Krishna kambi kumbae tudala tudala tudala, timrutha tommy prepae... It was not a strange language - it is English. When decoded it goes: Krishna can be compared to the lord to the lord to the lord. And the rest (timrutha Tommy prepae) still remains a mystery.
I found later that such misunderstood utterances actually have a name; they are called mondegeens . You will find more instances here
I also learned that mondegreens shouldn't be confused with soramimi which is what Benilava is.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
A witty Ditty
I found this poem in an old newspaper. Today is Martyrs' Day so I thought I'd share it:
'Hitler and his Black Shirts
riding for a fall,
Musso with his Brown Shirts
Back against the wall,
De Valera with his Green Shirts
caring not at all,
Three cheers to Gandhi
with no shirt at all!'
'Hitler and his Black Shirts
riding for a fall,
Musso with his Brown Shirts
Back against the wall,
De Valera with his Green Shirts
caring not at all,
Three cheers to Gandhi
with no shirt at all!'
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Republic Day Thoughts
Usually the flag hoisting at the Indian Embassy here is early in the morning. We would start out from home before it was fully light, distribute flags for the students to wave, stand in the icy cold desert winter watching and waiting for the ceremony to begin. It felt good to endure the discomfort, reminding me of the extremes that my country men suffer to guard the nation.
Was this year's 9a.m. ceremony symptomatic of something? Besides it was bright and warm too.
The embassy had asked for 25 students from each Indian school. I wasn't surprised to find that no arrangement was made to accommodate them. So all had to squeeze together and try to get a glimpse of what went on. Seeing the tricolour unfurl and flutter, the shouts of Bharat Mata Ki Jai always make me emotional, and in the afterglow I forgot to be annoyed with the officials. I also forgot to frown at the late-comers, important people of the Indian diaspora, who swept in past the barricades to occupy reserved spots, for I was more aware of the 'common ground rather than the differences'(I've just read Mandela).
Hot breakfast distributed free by Mughal Mahal hotel awaited us. The students were given priority and they stood in proper lines - that was good. There are pretty trimmed bushes at the embassy grounds and the base of each was white with discarded plates - that was bad. Reading the India special supplement of the local newspaper was distressing. Some columns said that it was the 59th anniversary while another said that it had completed 60 years of being a republic. One claimed that it was 58 years. Is this confusion a result of thoughtlessness or too much thought?
As the Charge de affaires read out the message to the nation given by the President of India, I overheard a lady say, "Hey he copied it yaar. Same same thing Pratibha Patil said yeshtaarday." I felt nice that Indians did listen to the president's address so closely.
Jai Hind!
Was this year's 9a.m. ceremony symptomatic of something? Besides it was bright and warm too.
The embassy had asked for 25 students from each Indian school. I wasn't surprised to find that no arrangement was made to accommodate them. So all had to squeeze together and try to get a glimpse of what went on. Seeing the tricolour unfurl and flutter, the shouts of Bharat Mata Ki Jai always make me emotional, and in the afterglow I forgot to be annoyed with the officials. I also forgot to frown at the late-comers, important people of the Indian diaspora, who swept in past the barricades to occupy reserved spots, for I was more aware of the 'common ground rather than the differences'(I've just read Mandela).
Hot breakfast distributed free by Mughal Mahal hotel awaited us. The students were given priority and they stood in proper lines - that was good. There are pretty trimmed bushes at the embassy grounds and the base of each was white with discarded plates - that was bad. Reading the India special supplement of the local newspaper was distressing. Some columns said that it was the 59th anniversary while another said that it had completed 60 years of being a republic. One claimed that it was 58 years. Is this confusion a result of thoughtlessness or too much thought?
As the Charge de affaires read out the message to the nation given by the President of India, I overheard a lady say, "Hey he copied it yaar. Same same thing Pratibha Patil said yeshtaarday." I felt nice that Indians did listen to the president's address so closely.
Jai Hind!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Test
Breathless sighs
through parted lips,
Eyes half closed,
Moving fingertips.
Bite marks
Scratches
Swish of sheets.
Sweat and stain
As bodies strain.
A secret smile
Aah - that's good!
tick tock
tick tock
urgent haste
tick tock
tick tock
faster faster...
screaming bells
and then release
Socks to pull
And strings to tie
As pens are shut
secretions dry.
through parted lips,
Eyes half closed,
Moving fingertips.
Bite marks
Scratches
Swish of sheets.
Sweat and stain
As bodies strain.
A secret smile
Aah - that's good!
tick tock
tick tock
urgent haste
tick tock
tick tock
faster faster...
screaming bells
and then release
Socks to pull
And strings to tie
As pens are shut
secretions dry.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Greetings
Happy New Year!
Hope 2009 will offer peace and stability in the world.
On the personal front, I feel excited about starting out on new ventures.
Incidentally it is also my blog's first birthday. The result of my daughter's persistence, This and That has given me satisfaction. Not being the most systematic person, I used to write stuff and leave them around. Thanks to T&T, they are nicely kept together.
I also got to meet many people and more importantly, new perspectives. I made friends and even frightened (albeit unintended) at least one away [ in my daughter's words 'pissed him off'- (very expressive)- something I've never done in real life. ] I roped some of my students into the writing circle as well.
The blog has been great for my ego (or is it vanity?) too. I even received a very exclusive award (not the usual forwarded and 'foreworded' kind) which had an impact that the prize giver could not have imagined.
I've been asked about the name Materialmom. My identity as a mother keeps me safe and gets me respect automatically. And Material is opposed to spiritual. Also the Material girl keeps re-inventing herself. My blog has done that for me. The thoughts on this blog are my brainchildren and hence I am their Materialmom.
My! I do sound like a teacher, don't I? Sorreee
Hope 2009 will offer peace and stability in the world.
On the personal front, I feel excited about starting out on new ventures.
Incidentally it is also my blog's first birthday. The result of my daughter's persistence, This and That has given me satisfaction. Not being the most systematic person, I used to write stuff and leave them around. Thanks to T&T, they are nicely kept together.
I also got to meet many people and more importantly, new perspectives. I made friends and even frightened (albeit unintended) at least one away [ in my daughter's words 'pissed him off'- (very expressive)- something I've never done in real life. ] I roped some of my students into the writing circle as well.
The blog has been great for my ego (or is it vanity?) too. I even received a very exclusive award (not the usual forwarded and 'foreworded' kind) which had an impact that the prize giver could not have imagined.
I've been asked about the name Materialmom. My identity as a mother keeps me safe and gets me respect automatically. And Material is opposed to spiritual. Also the Material girl keeps re-inventing herself. My blog has done that for me. The thoughts on this blog are my brainchildren and hence I am their Materialmom.
My! I do sound like a teacher, don't I? Sorreee
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
The Making Of 'Comfort Zone'
An elaboration for those who understand and those who don't understand the poem.
It is in man's nature to seek comfort and a secure life. He, therefore, treads the beaten path. A point is reached when he is ensconced in a safe and comfortable life. And then if he looks back, he realises that he was paying the price - he had bartered adventure for security.
Reading about Matsuo Basho, the Japanese Haiku master of the 17th C put these thoughts into my mind. For Basho was a man who lived life on his own terms. A teacher, he refused to be tied down to a sedate life and chose to satisfy his restless spirit. Clad in his simple straw shoes, unencumbered by possessions, he wandered North, east and west to see his country and find fodder for his poetry. Throughout his wanderings, he attracted students and won their admiration.He was a hyohakusha (a wanderer). I felt that the English meaning didn't quite express the wanderlust and restlessness of a wild spirit. Hence the use of the Japanese word.
There are times when you feel suffocated by the comfort of routine. While the world can do without another school teacher, it needs people who will care enough to reach out to those in need. Life is a gift. There is only one life and what have you done?? You have remained inside the haven of your safety shell; the soft beneath untouched by hands that reach. What have you seen in this wonderful world? You have remained in the darkness of your cocoon.You had wings to fly and what did you do? Afraid to flutter them, you have aborted your growth. Blind to your own beauty. What have you learnt? You had little adventure, you made no mistakes.
It is in man's nature to seek comfort and a secure life. He, therefore, treads the beaten path. A point is reached when he is ensconced in a safe and comfortable life. And then if he looks back, he realises that he was paying the price - he had bartered adventure for security.
Reading about Matsuo Basho, the Japanese Haiku master of the 17th C put these thoughts into my mind. For Basho was a man who lived life on his own terms. A teacher, he refused to be tied down to a sedate life and chose to satisfy his restless spirit. Clad in his simple straw shoes, unencumbered by possessions, he wandered North, east and west to see his country and find fodder for his poetry. Throughout his wanderings, he attracted students and won their admiration.He was a hyohakusha (a wanderer). I felt that the English meaning didn't quite express the wanderlust and restlessness of a wild spirit. Hence the use of the Japanese word.
There are times when you feel suffocated by the comfort of routine. While the world can do without another school teacher, it needs people who will care enough to reach out to those in need. Life is a gift. There is only one life and what have you done?? You have remained inside the haven of your safety shell; the soft beneath untouched by hands that reach. What have you seen in this wonderful world? You have remained in the darkness of your cocoon.You had wings to fly and what did you do? Afraid to flutter them, you have aborted your growth. Blind to your own beauty. What have you learnt? You had little adventure, you made no mistakes.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Comfort Zone
It is warm in here,
Dark and cosy,
Insulated from hands that reach,
That probe and find the soft beneath.
Dead to the tug of ties,
Larval oblivion pacifies.
Unscorched by heat
Nor cooled by breeze.
While outside winds wander
And light reveals,
The worm grows wings,
Fated to flutter impotent-
A hyohakusha in a cell,
Too late to tear the wall.
Inside,
In the swelter,
The blinding darkness,
The cushion of comfort
Stuffed into airways,
Gasping to die -
Aborted in the cocoon.
Dark and cosy,
Insulated from hands that reach,
That probe and find the soft beneath.
Dead to the tug of ties,
Larval oblivion pacifies.
Unscorched by heat
Nor cooled by breeze.
While outside winds wander
And light reveals,
The worm grows wings,
Fated to flutter impotent-
A hyohakusha in a cell,
Too late to tear the wall.
Inside,
In the swelter,
The blinding darkness,
The cushion of comfort
Stuffed into airways,
Gasping to die -
Aborted in the cocoon.
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