Sunday, December 30, 2012

Bovine Solutions........

My friend Bhavesh Chhatbar  has posted some amazing captures of the Grazing Indian Buffalo on his blog .

Sometimes , I think, not only do the buffaloes graze, but they also gaze. At us. In disgust.  At how terrible our species can be. 

Given the recent events in Delhi,  one can only agree.

I chew the cud
and ruminate,
on the
new two legged animals
that seemed to

have joined the jungle.

I resist ,
with great difficulty,
the urge
to gore them with my horns,
and thrash
and kick them.

Should the two-legged law
not work,
The Law of the Jungle
will prevail.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Bozoical Rage...

Bozo, my blogfriend with his own blog,  is upset and disgusted.  He has been around, but nothing saddens him more than what he has seen and heard on television recently.

Things have spiralled out of control.  The quadrupeds are thinking of suing some folks for defamation, for comparing some folks to animals.  And from what Bozo sees, unless some firm steps are taken, and laws put in, nothing will improve.

Bozo knows.  He is thinking. So deeply, that he never realised when Magiceye clicked.

You know,
I may not speak your language
but I understand it.

And I keenly watch .
And I am angry
and greatly stressed.

Which is bad for me
in my old age....

The world,
The television.
And I hear the folks
discussing things.

It is serious.

Something bad has happened
in the capital
and I wish
someone had helped
the young girl and her friend,
both so brave......

In my world,
we fight and attack
those who hurt
those we consider ours.

I just have one question.

Someone told me
when bipeds abuse
females of their species
they use words
to the female
my species ?

Why ?

What wrong have we done ?

Would you prefer
I call a bad dog a Bura  Besharam Aadmi
when I fight and bite him?

That would hurt badly,
since I have now seen
in Delhi
the worst of the Bure Besharam Aadmis....

Will you never learn
that the female is to be respected
and you cannot exist
unless she does ?

Friday, December 21, 2012

Keeping together ....

My FB friend Nandan Tavanandi, has an amazing collection of  bird photos that he clicked at the Rann of Kutch where he went on a birding trip.. 

One of those , was that of  Eurasian Spoonbill on their evening walk with Large Egret....  and the demeanor and body language of the birds was so striking.

A case of a smaller cerebral cortex, but sharper eyes.

Or maybe it appeared so to me, given what is happening in the country today ,....

(photo by Nandan Tavanandi)  

after flying in
from a freezing north,
Egret Aji,

with a pained thoughtful look
" I fly down each year,
and year after year
what I see
below me
gets worse and worse.

We need to keep together,
whether we fly
walk exploring the marsh.

I thought there is safety in numbers.

But sometimes,
amongst humans,
the numbers themselves
become untrustworthy,
cruel and sick.

These humans have gone mad."

Saturday, December 15, 2012

The Silly Grin....

My FB and blogger friend Sangeeta Khanna,  fresh from the rigours of house whitewash, used some left over whole wheat pizza dough, added some yummy homemade pizza sauce, and baked , what she calls a rustic bread .

She posted a picture here on FB :

Naturally, I saw something else there..... and a poem happened.

at keeping
her blooming temper
was really puffed up in anger.

A whole afternoon on sitting
all sticky
covered with
a thin cloth
fermenting in frustration.

First they poked,
then the punched,
and then
slapped her around on a tray
with so many freeloaders
like onion, tomatoes,
and those upstarts,
the mushrooms,
clamouring for cheese.

The planets had changed.
for one thing,
the walls looked whiter and brighter !

This time,
she was gently patted down,
she almost got drunk
on some chunky pizza sauce
drizzled over her.
"Dont worry" said the lady,
gathered her together
in a little
open box.

there was something about the sauce
and she simply
puffed up
this time in pleasure,
a silly grin on her face.....

Some hot time
in a comfy oven,
and she was ready to face the world.

Those black things ?
Just some left over kala tikkas !

Friday, December 14, 2012

The Mary Kom Rice

Dr Kavita Saharia, my FB and blog friend from Guwahati,  in North East India,  did a wonderful post on the Red Rice of Manipur. Treated as food and medicine , and cultivated in small rain fed scattered areas, this high-fibre unmilled rice contains more vitamin B, niacin, vitamin E, calcium, magnesium, iron, and zinc than our routine common white rice.

Read her entire post here :

Just reminded me of one more amazing entity from Manipur .......

and inspired a poem :-)

So many
presumed prosperous,
Bossy Basmatis and
Keen Kolums,
fighting it out
across the country,
smeared in pulaos,
flavoured in biryanis,
and being fussed over
and decorated
as they shamelessly laze
in stubborn payasams.

some boiled transparent types
even join in
for griddle activities,
in the company of Udad,

All these folks,
completely oblivious
to Chak-hao,
the Mary Kom of Rice.

Like her,
from Manipur;
like her,
hardy, strong, and full of health;
like her,
always needed for her kids,
like her ,
fearing none,
and like her,
loved by all !

The tough, dark rice,
soaked in water
bashfully turning a dark burgundy;
then tentatively
warming and cooking
to meet the advancing
milk and sugar folks,
coming to meet her.

A meeting of minds,
a great mixing,
and she turns a blushing pink,
as milk and sugar
shower her with compliments
amidst a spray of
slivers of nuts.

Like Mary Kom,
the star of Manipur,
a lovely, sturdy, healthy,
role model,
for the young Kheers of india.....

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Spider Soliloquies....

My Blog and FB friend, Nandan Tavnandi, clicked this amazing  photograph of a spider doing its thing at the Karnala Bird Sanctuary, on the Mumbai-Goa Highway.

Besides spiders, who actually hold copyright on the word "web", we have lots of webs today, including the deceitful  ones woven by those who call themselves politicians.

I just though the spider might have something to say about that........

(photo by Nandan Tavanandi)
I weave my web
for a living,
against several odds.

Its probably
a very laborious way
of catching your prey
and getting your next meal.

But I see some
who emulate
and weave such spurious webs,
not to source
the next meal,
but the next million.

They do not weave themselves,
but get
helpless minions
to do that,
in the process,
messing the view
for anyone trying to look through.

Of course,
there are holes in my web
really become
loopholes in theirs,
and they miss them
in the excitement
of power networking
round and round the centre.

Folks with evolved cerebral cortii,
leaving loopholes
me of the gosammer net
with holes.

King Arthur would have been
of the holes in my web.

Bozoical Hmmmmm..!

Bozo, Mumbai's only dog-with-his-own-blog is convinced that the Lord works in amazing ways to teach us.

He has had his reservations about certain chocolate colored proud twowheelers that have smitten the boss.   He is getting a bit worried that other folks are getting smitten too.  But then something happened on one of the chocolate lady's trips.  The Boss had his camera stolen.  Shock and Despair.

Never mind. There is a new camera now.  And Bozo , gave a special pose for it. He is not saying anything, but you can see it in his eyes......

You know,
by nature,
I am a very careful ,
guarded chap.

I have my eye on things,
even when I am
having skirmishes with birds
in the balcony,
in the rear seat of the car
on the odd occasions
that I travel.

I also don't like some things I see.

Like this new fussy
chocolate colored two wheeler
that has Deepak smitten.

I mean you can create speed,
but you cannot
create space,
when two folks
are going to travel
for 5 days.

And so ,
although the chocolate lady
will not admit to it,
the camera disappeared
due to the
absence of a locked boot,
something that
doesn't fit ,
into the beauty features
of the chocolate lady.

I sympathize.
So does another very kind lady
who presented Deepak
with a new Canon.

I just gave my
"I told you so" pose,
and Deepak clicked.

I guess I am lucky for Deepak.

one of the balcony crows
that the chocolate lady
was seen shedding oil tears
in the garage ....

Just saying ...

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Oye ! Bhappa Doi !

My friend Shruti Nargundkar of Melbourne, first cooks brilliant stuff, then she takes amazing photographs of the same. This is followed by an fantastic blogpost, linking the dish with some ethos of her childhood and family.

This time, she used left over basundi/rabdi/payasam along with hung/thick/greek yogurt, to make an amazing Bhappa Doi, which is a sweet bengali yogurt based dessert. (Recipe at the link indicated).

This time Shruti also made a poem based on this dish , called "The Ballad of Mishti and Bhappa", confirming her place as a brilliant delicious poet and/or poetic foodie.

Her posts and recipes often inspire Marathi poems, and she is always kind enough to let me put them here.

This time I am also putting the poem she made alongside. I am more than a decade older than Shruti. We are settled in different cultures. And our two poems, are living proof, of how we have slightly different ways of looking at stuff .

 Possibly in keeping with our ages . And possibly indicative of how much we both love food.

दिवसभराच्या समारंभाने तृप्त झालेल्या ,
सर्वांचे गोड आशीर्वाद, आहेर ,
आणि कुटुम्बात नवीन अलेल्या
बदामी सुनेच्या कौतुकात
बुडलेल्या वरमाई,
वेलदोड्याच्या आणि केशराच्या
ठिपक्यांनी सजलेली शुभ्र सोनेरी साडी,
सर्व पाहुणे परतल्यावर
टेकून बसलेल्या नवीन सासूबाई ...

आणि एकीकडे
अचानक एकट एकट वाटून,
भावनिक श्रमाने पिळून गेलेल्या
दिवसभराच्या समारंभां नंतर ,
मनात आणि डोळ्यात अश्रु ढाळणार्या

आवरा अवर झाल्यावर ,
वधुवर मधुचान्द्रास निघून गेल्यावर
त्या दोघी
पहाटेच्या गारव्यात भेटतात.
थोड्या उबेसाठी
आतल्या गरम खोलीत बसतात

एकीची नवीन मिळालेली मुलगी ,
एकांचा नवीन मिळालेला मुलगा
यांच्या आनंदात
एकीमेकीच्या घट्ट मैत्रिणी होउन जातात....

पहाटेची वार्याची एक मिशकील झुळूक ,
जाई जुइच्या वेलात खुदकन हसते ,
आणि म्हणते भप्पा, भप्पा, वाहवा !
The Ballad of Mishti and Bhappa

Shruti Nargundkar

A cream come true when they set,
Both of the deserted milk ilk,
Bhapa and his lady love dulcet
Were desserts not to forget!

Mishti was sweet and coy,
Of saffron smooth complexion
While burly brawny Bhapa boy
A bhadra Banga mahashoy!

Then tragedy smote the duo
As a matron thrifty ‘n crafty
Prudently wouldn’t a thing throw
Separated the belle from her beau!

Mishti resolved to meet her fate
Adorned with sparkling zigzags
Bhapa sweltered in the grate
Vowing reunion at the pearly gate!

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

So many of my blogging and FB friends have dogs that blog. Luci from Thiruvanantapuram, and Bozo from Bandra,Mumbai being the two leading folks.

 Luci recently put up some amazing photos , that looked like formal portraits on her blog and FB. Possibly to celebrate a new Nikon. In something peculiar to the Indian ethos, these photos of Luci reminded me of the formal photos that people put up on matrimonial database sites, that are so popular today.

And naturally , one thought of Bozo .   See Luci below in the upper set of 3 photos and Bozo, in the set below .

I don't have a pet dog, but sometimes, I think I must have been a dog in my last birth.  :-))

(all photos of Luci by Shail Mohan, and those of Bozo by Deepak Amembal)

He was smelling
the smooth shining pages
hitting "Next"
with his paw,
when he chanced upon
royal beauty
with soulful eyes
and amazing spirit.

he said,
"She is on FB
and also has a Dog Blog !"

he barkmailed her,
their folks got in touch,
and may meet.

He just wonders,
he should present her
with his
favourite blue collar
at the first meeting .....

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Peepal Live !

My FB friend  Amit Amembal, recently posted this amazing capture of a Peepal Tree.

Called Ashwattha is Sanskrit, पिंपळ in Marathi, પિપળો in Gujarati, അരയാല്‍ Arayal in Malyalam, araLi mara ಅರಳಿ ಮರ in Kannada, Arasa maram அரச மரம் in Tamil,  Pippal in Punjabi, and  Ficus Religiosa  in Botany,  this is a species of fig native to the subcontinent. With over 50 medicinal uses, the peepal is the first-known depicted tree in India: a seal discovered at Mohenjodaro, one of the cities of the Indus Valley Civilisation (c. 3000 BC - 1700 BC), shows the peepal being worshipped.  The Bramha Purana, Skanda Purana , Upanishads, as well as the BhagwadGita mention this tree, and it is the tree underwhich the Buddha is supposed to have received the enlightenment.

Its speciality , among many other things, is its gnarled roots that often descend and connect with the earth. 

For some reason these roots here seemed to be in a trauma of sorts ......

It is someone
with a
long Vanaprasthashram.

For someone,

whose roots
are considered Brahma,
whose trunk
the abode of Vishnu
the leaves,
gracefully existing as Shiva,
and thrilled to bits
as the Buddha
imbibed it all
meditating beneath,
the roots
gnarl now in agony,
twisting and turning
as they slowly,
helplessly descend.

In all its years
of living, fruiting
and dispensing wisdom
and cures,
it has never felt
as hopeless
as it feels now,
the country
denigrating the girl child.

"Treat me as a son
if you do not beget one
your family name
will flourish with me"
the tree said in the Skand Purana.

But do the
listen ?

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Bozo on Automation

Sometimes, Bozo,  Mumbai's only dog-with-his-own-blog  momentarily gets alarmed. You never know what you might have to face in life.   First it was chocolate colored raging two wheelers simply enchanting his mentor Magiceye and luring him away . And now, these driver less four wheelers, careening about the house.   Check this photographic capture by Magiceye , if you do not believe....

After an initial alarm and a sense of fright, Bozo has seen through it all.  And being a Mumbai dog, he even philosophises about it......

I thought it was a cataract ,
something looked strange,,
I must be getting old ....

You know,
I've been around
in the family car,
even Deepak
has to wear a belt
in order to drive.

And I wear my blue collar
with great pride
as I stand in the rear seat....

And then,
the other day,
I see
what I think
is a tiny car,
but no one inside,
as it zooms around,
back and forth,
sometimes chasing me,
confronting me,
and the entire car
than my harness!

I blinked.
No change.
I blinked again .
And then I saw a little kid,
under the dining table,
pressing buttons,
to make the car go here and there.

I am not surprised.

It's a sign of the times.

Some powerful types
press buttons,
and their followers
jump ,move and obey,
just like the car,
without thinking.

Thank God,
I am still a free thinking Bozo,
and no one,
but no one presses buttons
to make me do things !