Apr 20, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes
What I shared on my FB page today (about my daughter):
Walking with S earlier tonight in the beautiful, cold air, we passed a yard, with a bed of small flowers lit by night lights. We admired the little flowers hugging the earth for a few seconds.
As we walked on, S turned to me and asked: “What kind of flowers does an ape like?”
I goggled at her in the dark. “What?”
Pat came her reply: “Chimp-pansies!”
(This child is turning into a paronomasiac.)
~Dreamer of Dreams
~~~~~~~~~ Goodnight, folks! ~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #Child, daughter and mother, eight-year old punster, night walk, paronomasiac
Apr 17, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries
Saw this image (click on link above) on Facebook today, and this occurred to me:
So beautiful and so chilling — that we, little atoms on this vast playground, are sentient and self-aware. What must the larger beings be like? What might they be thinking? Would their thinking be like ours? When does a being become self-aware? The day that we discern this, from the atomic level to the cosmological level, we will have reached apotheosis.
~Vijaya Sundaram
April 17th, 2013
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: " vastness, "The Pale Blue Dot, #Earth, self-awareness, sentience
Apr 12, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries
It’s only April 12th, and I’m on my twelfth day of “A Poem A Day.” I think I missed two days in the beginning, but made up for it by writing a few more poems. I haven’t written one today, yet. Not sure if I can.
After sleeping for four and a half hours last night, I woke up, made coffee, got our luggage ready, and we all made for the airport. Then, we all flew to Toronto to visit my father-in-law and his wife.
We’ve been here since late morning today.
Not much to report. Wet, cool, windy day. Nice fire in fireplace. Nice lunch and dinner. Our child is happy, because she loves visiting her Grandpa and Grannie. She also loves their dog, who’s thrilled to have a kid to play with.
It’s peaceful here. I like it. So does my daughter. My husband is preparing for a concert he’s giving this coming week.
That’s all for today, folks. Perhaps, tomorrow, I might write two poems to make up for today. Or perhaps, after midnight, tonight, I’ll write something, if only to keep the habit fresh.
Writing is, or should be, a habit. One cannot wait around for inspiration. Inspiration’s waiting for one! One has to set out on the road first.
Goodnight!
Love,
Dreamer of Dreams
Tags: #Journal Entry, almost NaPoWriMo, April vacation, travel
Apr 9, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Original Poetry, Reading, Writing, Thinking, Teaching and Learning
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3o8jL1BXMdk]
Response to “Pigeon” by Anthony Green
©Vijaya Sundaram
April 9th, 2013
[The above YouTube video shows the film “Pigeon” by Anthony Green. This was the prompt I put up today on my “smartboard” in class (we have been studying books set in the Nazi-Holocaust period for the past few weeks). Students watched this 11-minute film and then we had a discussion about the significance of the different acts of kindness or unkindness in the film. We also discussed the symbolism in all the visuals (I don’t want to go all school-teacherish on you here), as well as the arresting imagery, acting and directing.
This was followed by a writing assignment. Students had to write a poem-response to this film, telling the story itself, or using the larger symbolism to zoom in on what moved them. They were deeply affected by the film, and the poems they came up with were beautiful.
I told them that I, too, would write while they wrote. So, I managed to write in four out of five of my class periods today.] Here is the first of the four poems I wrote (unedited, sorry, no time to tweak things. Will do that later):
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shema Yisrael
Response poem to the film “Pigeon”
©Vijaya Sundaram
April 9th, 2013
Shema Yisrael
Stranded on the island
I await my deliverance
Shema Yisrael
Pigeon at my feet
Crumbs for its survival
Shema Yisrael
I have lost all, lost all
My papers, my self, my life.
Shema Yisrael
I try and sidestep my fate
Waiting is my wasteland
Shema Yisrael
Here are guards, inexorable as death
I die by degrees, in a sweat of fear
Shema Yisrael
Angel in human form sees
My loss, transforms into demoness
Shema Yisrael
I had a wife, and now a new one,
Who beats me about the shoulders.
Shema Yisrael
Guards aim death at her, “Papers!”
She mocks me, her “husband.”
Shema Yisrael
They laugh at us, mock me; they see she
“Wears the pants,” and then they leave.
Shema Yisrael
Bless this angel of mercy, this wife
Who delivered me from death, from hell
Shema Yisrael
May her act not go unnoticed
May she find a place among the angels.
Shema Yisrael
May the pigeons and doves among us
Find their saviors, may they fly in peace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sh’ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Eḥad
(Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is One)
Disclaimer: I am not a Jewish person, nor a believer of any sort. However, I believe deeply in the power of prayer to steady ourselves, when we’re cast afloat, rudderless, on an open sea. It’s a centering mechanism. It’s good. It can only calm us, not hurt us.
Tags: #humanity, #kindness, #NaPoWriMo, #Resistance, #Teaching, Deliverance, Goodness, Mercy, poem-response to film "Pigeon" by Anthony Green, Shema
Apr 5, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Blogs and Bloggers
Today was a bad writing day.
So bad, that when I wrote a poem with the title “A Bad Writing Day,” the damned poem disappeared after I saved it. I searched everywhere. It’s hiding somewhere among the pixels.
So, in effect, I wrote my “poem a day” for April Poetry Writing Month today, — and it ran away from me from embarrassment.
Now what?
A cop-out, that’s what. I dug up an old one, and stuck it in my blog (the post just before this one in terms of chronology).
Hey, at least I know I wrote my poem today – even if it did disappear!
So, that should salve my conscience, right?
Actually, even if I had posted it, I’d have been so mad at myself for such a bad poem that I would not have been able to look myself in the eye for quite a while.
Some days are good poem days, and other days are bad poem days (sort of like “good and bad hair days.” )
Ultimately, it all depends on the weather, and how much sleep you had.
So, I’m off to get mine — sleep, that is. (And perhaps tomorrow, perhaps on Sunday, I’ll make up for today’s lack by writing two poems.
Well, goodnight, dear blog and bloggers!
Dreamers of Dreams
Tags: #Blogging, almost NaPoWriMo, bad writing days, good writing days, inspiration, poem a day, poetry-writing
Apr 1, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries
Indifference?
©By Vijaya Sundaram
April 1st, 2013
You want to see pure indifference?
Talk about work to a person who has not slept for forty-eight hours.
Talk to a starving person about morals.
Talk to an angry teenager about duty.
Talk to a woman in the throes of giving birth about the dangers of population explosion.
Talk to a painter about toxic substances in paint.
Talk to an Isaac Newton about weightlessness.
Talk to a dancer about sitting attentively in a classroom.
Talk to a Climate Change activist about the profit margin in polluting industries.
Talk to a caged animal about why it is safe and better off in the cage that you’ve created for it.
Talk to a child and explain to her why she shouldn’t play, and attend to her homework instead.
That’s all for now, folks!
Too sleep-deprived for a bigger, fancier blog-post.
~Dreamers of Dreams~
Tags: #indifference, #NaPoWriMo, Artists, caged animals, children, Children and Play, dancers, dreamers, musicians, Play, Pointlessness, Work
Mar 31, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Reading, Writing, Thinking
A Dinner-break non-Post
©By Vijaya Sundaram
March 31st, 2013
Write about your strongest memory of heart-pounding belly-twisting nervousness: what caused the adrenaline? Was it justified? How did you respond?This was the prompt I got just now when idly clicking on “inspire me” after idly clicking on the “New Post” button seconds earlier.
I had just read other people’s blogs, while chowing down my two Amy’s Pizza slices. This is my dinner break in between grading papers, so I don’t feel too guilty about blogging! (Yes, it has become my guilty pleasure, and that is terrible! It’s interfering with everything. I am truly addicted). Or perhaps, I just want to write, because the dam has broken, and every day is a day wherein I need to write something down, be it poetry, stories, reflections or commentary on something.
So, what is my strongest memory of heart-pounding belly-twisting nervousness?
Being on stage at the Museum Theatre in Madras (now Chennai) India, at age 16, singing Vincent by Don McLean (click the song-title to hear Don McLean) to a crowd of five hundred school-and-college-age kids — so, as far as heart-pounding, belly-twisting nervousness goes, that took the prize.
As did I, that night. We won the Best Vocalist AND Best Band award (with my mostly all-girl band — our drummer was a boy we imported from our “brother” school). We blew them away. I had been ready to faint at the beginning of it all, but settled into an almost surreal state of calmness after I began, and the wild crowd became still. At the end of that song, wild applause rang in the hot, stage-lit air. I couldn’t see anyone. I was alone in a ring of light, and it felt good.
(I could write more about this, but that will have to wait for another time. This is a quick post.)
My most recent feeling of heart-pounding belly-twisting nervousness?
Right now! I’ve got to go! My heart is pounding madly. I’ve got to finish grading mountains of paper! An all-nighter looms. And I broke my word to my FB friends. I wrote this blog! But what the hell, it’s my dinner break. Right? And it’s not really a blog post. I mean, it’s only four hundred and forty-four words (according to that little word-count gremlin crouching below this box), and that’s a mere sigh in the raging winds!
Justifications, justifications! I want to write! That’s all I want to do!
See you when I emerge, gasping for air and sustenance, mid-week. If you don’t hear from me, I’ve probably died from drowning in paper (it’s a veritable sea around me here, and the water-levels are rising).
Quick, someone hand me a pair of flippers and a snorkel! This tsunami will not bear me away.
Bye, folks!
Love,
Dreamer of Dreams.
Alas, I have no picture of me performing on stage in Madras (Chennai) at age 16, but here’s me at age 21 onstage (far left, in black pants, black&white shirt, and electric guitar in hand) at Fergusson College, Pune, India, at the InSynch ’85 Inter-Collegiate Festival.
Tags: Addiction to blogging, Blog-Post, dinner break, Grading Papers, heart-pounding moment in time
Mar 30, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Essays on Music and Musicians
“Small Blue Thing” by Suzanne Vega
This song blew me away when I first heard it. I wished (and still wish) that I had written it. Her songwriting, guitar-playing, music and tone of voice are (dare I use this word?) perfect.
Suzanne Vega is probably the most elegant, concentrated, delicate and literate among songwriters, whether female or male.
I am, and will always be, a fan. And I am hard to please.
“Lullaby for an Anxious Child” by Sting
I heard this song a couple of years ago or so. It made me cry. Sting is … my absolute favorite contemporary male songwriter, musician, singer, performer. His imagination and musical taste are impeccable.
Thank you for listening!
Love,
Dreamer of Dreams
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #Music, #Suzanne Vega, celebrities, Dreamer of Dreams, lullaby to an anxious child, Music I love, songs, Sting
Mar 29, 2013 Awake in Dream Time - Journal Entries about the almost real, the surreal and the unreal, Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries
Bees Abuzz
©By Vijaya Sundaram
Written in India (on Friday, July 16, 2010)
We went to the bazaar today, and I had my head spun around like cotton candy by the incandescent colors and iridescent clothes I saw. My daughter showed discernment and good taste, except when it came to certain hair clips which possessed a gaudiness that defied description. I, on the other hand, well, I hesitated long and hard over certain things, and made snap decisions over others.
Shopping for clothes and accessories is both elevating and depressing. It’s like a quick buzz you get from certain substances, but after all is said and done, what you crave is the oldness of things you’ve always worn. The new things, gleaming and gauzy, lie like treasures waiting to be claimed. Months go by, and you go back to the Egyptian cotton blouses of plain prints you’ve always preferred over the glittering over-worked, highly decorated, over-priced dresses you’ve picked up in a moment of infatuation and uncertainty under bright lights.
And thus, women spend their days, going from one buzz to another, like so many bees among artificial flowers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~That’s all, folks!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: #Colors, Comfortable old clothes, gaudy things, Shopping in India, women and shopping
Mar 29, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Reading, Writing, Thinking
Passion or Calmness?
©A Pondering by Vijaya Sundaram
March 29th, 2013
I am equally moved by both.
If there is too much passion, though, I get suspicious. It’s easy enough to weep and rant, easy enough to be outraged and enraged, easy enough to wave one’s hands about and gesticulate fiercely when making a point, if one feels deeply about something. And that’s important, because we need deep feeling and deep engagement with our own, and others’ emotions.
Go on for too long, though, and it becomes too much — one needs a check to correct the flood, re-channel it, perhaps, to irrigate fields, rather than inundating them.
Calmness and reasoned thinking matter. Logic matters. True logic can be married to true emotion. The two can go hand-in-hand. One has to step back from personal response as the sole arbiter of one’s philosophy of life. One needs to truly see. Beware of false traps and circular logic, self-serving interests disguised as dispassionate interest, logic that seeks to destroy rather than build up a good, reasoned, calm, thoughtful approach to a problem, any problem that exists in one’s own life, or in the collective lives of humanity.
I cannot help but remember Yeats: The best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity.
My definition of Balance: The merging of the Apollonian and the Dionysian.
So, what do we do when there’s a flood?
Build irrigation ditches, and grow food. Feed the hungry, and nourish the spirit. Then, dance, sing and get drunk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
P.S. I do not advocate drinking (although I think the occasional wine is fine). I like metaphors!
Tags: Apollo, Dionysus, ego, Finding balance, Logic, Passion