The merger!

Water, one of the dearest subject for Ripples and for me. Here is another dimension to water.

The water, in most forms, is rarely considered as the final stage and rather used as example to seeking the destiny in next stage. Like a river attaining destiny while reaching the sea, a drop attaining destiny by becoming a pearl, the drop on lotus leaf and so on..

The crust of earth is basically split into two, surface covered by water and land.

Just like the water being omnipresent in many ways, the land / soil could be represented in many many ways. Rocks, boulders, mountains, sand, soil and so on.

When water meets many of those, the water retains its nature as water, just as the other component retains its own nature. Or the reaction happens to one of them while the other remains the same.

Whereas when water meets a certain kind of soil, the water and soil bonds together and becomes mud, where the water attains the color of soil and the soil becomes almost liquid, losing its dry and solid state.

Thus, merged the heart of two, in love, inseparable and into one, by losing itself. And together they could be created into new formations, which isn’t possible to be attained by either water or soil independently.

This is the example given by an anonymous poet to describe love at first sight. And the richness of the thought paved way to name the poet after this example.

யாயும் ஞாயும் யாரா கியரோ,
எந்தையும் நுந்தையும் எம்முறைக் கேளிர்,
யானும் நீயும் எவ்வழி யறிதும்,
செம்புலப் பெயனீர் போல,
அன்புடை நெஞ்சம் தாங்கலந் தனவே.

-செம்புலப் பெயனீரார்.

What is my mother to yours?
How is my father relatednto yours? Although you and I knew not
each other in any way,
just as red earth and pouring rain:
the love-filled hearts merged.

(Kuruntokai – 40)

[https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuṟuntokai]

The lock that unlocks!

He was confused..

She was concerned..

He struggled within confines..

She struggled to break his cages..

He looked up to her for salvation..

She looked up to him with absolution..

He couldn’t find words to pour..

She couldn’t find words to coax them out..

As the words failed both of them,
The eyes spoke volumes..
She held him..
He gave in..
She locked him in her embrace..
He found himself unlocking..

The key to his locks,
Was long buried within
The gentle lock of her embrace..


Previously published here > https://aadhira.wordpress.com/2016/01/24/the-key-to-his-locks/

Aadhirai

This is indeed about my name. I have been asked several times about the meaning of my name and my lazy self decided to write a post once and share it henceforth! I could see you smirking at my laziness, but as ever, I couldn’t cut short the meaning into a line or two and I also think that the name deserves a post of its own. Hence, without further ado, here is the story of Aadhirai.

There are Five great epics in Tamizh literature. One of them is Manimekalai.

The title character, Manimekalai, has a special bowl, amutha surabhi (something similar to cornucopia), which gives food forever and it never empties, so she could feed the needy. When she received that bowl, it came with a condition. It will start repleting itself only if it receives alms from a person so pure and generous.

அமுத சுரபிக்கே அமுதிட்டவள் ஆதிரை.. That is Aadhirai. The one who gave alms to Amudha surabhi itself..

This is the first info I learnt about her and it made me search, What’s so special about her? And here’s her story. Continue reading

Wind Part 7

Wind - Part 7
Look at the tiny ant.
How tiny it is!
Within it tiny form, the physical parts of
   hands, legs, mouth, stomach and
   all other parts are proportionately set.
Who set it so? The great Shakti.
All those parts are doing there work properly.
The ant eats, sleeps, gets married,
   give birth to off springs, runs,
   searches, wages wars, saves/rules their nation.
The wind is the base for all these happenings.
The great Shakti plays the game of life using wind.
We sing about the Wind.
It stands as strength to the knowledge;
As likes and dislikes of the heart;
In the lives (of living things), life exists by itself.
In the (exterior) world (visible to the eyes),
   we know of its actions;
   (yet) we don't know (of all its actions).
We praise the Wind!

Note: This is the Part 7 of Bharathi’s Prose-Poetry titled “Kaatru”. Interested in the Series? Check here to read the previous parts! To read the original version in தமிழ் or in Transliterated version? Click here! And here’s a feast to the fans of Bharathi (with translation)


Does she have freedom?

He gave her free play
in a very very vast ground..
He boasted of the freedom,
he gave to her..

She realised her potential,
extending to horizons..
She silently resented her restrictions,
by him for her..

Wind Part 5 and 6

Wind - Part 5 & 6
5
Bheeman and Hanuman are said to be
 the off springs of Wind in the epics.
The Veda says, all living things are
 off springs of Wind.
Life is nothing but Wind.
Life is the form / object.
 Wind is the action.
Mother Earth is alive.
Her breath is the Wind surrounding the Earth.
Wind is Life. He kills lives.
Wind is Life. So life is not destroyed.
The smaller form or life merges
 with the eternal form.
 (The life of individual merges
  with the soul of the world)
There is no death.
The entire world is life-form.
Appearance, Growth, Change, Disappearance
 - All are stages / acts of life.
We praise the Wind.
6
Oh Wind, come!
Come, carrying the pollen drops,
 with sweet fragrance that mesmerises the heart.
Flow over the leaves and waves,
 and carry the essence of their soul to bring to us.
Oh Wind, come.
Flow nicely such that,
 the fire/warmth of our lives linger long
 and let the good light glow bright.
Don't extinguish it, as your power declines.
Don't kill it, by bashing like ghosts.
Keep flowing for a very long time, 
 slowly and with good rhythm.
We will sing songs on you.
We will keep praising you.
We will worship you.

Note: This is the Part 5 and 6 of Bharathi’s Prose-Poetry titled “Kaatru”. Interested in the Series? Check here to read the previous parts! To read the original version in தமிழ் or in Transliterated version? Click here! And here’s a feast to the fans of Bharathi (with translation)


Wind Part 3 and 4

Wind - Part 3 & 4
3
The base of Wind is Ear.
 Wind stands in the ears of the Shivan.
 If there is no wind, Shivan will not be able to hear.
 The Wind doesn't have ears.
 He is deaf.
 If he could hear, will he make such a racket?
 If he could hear, will he let the clouds clash with each other,
 _create thunders and be witnessing the show?
 If he could hear, Will he play by causing whirlwinds in the sea?
 We bow to the Wind, Sound, the Power.
4
Desert.
 Sand, Sand, Sand, For a very wide area, in all four sides,
 _there is levelled sand everywhere.
 Evening Time.
 Through that expanse of forest, over the camels,
 _a group of merchants are passing by.
 Vaayu (Wind) has become untameable / ferocious.
 The sands of the desert is rotating as a whirlwind in the mid sky.
 One moment, Pain of death, the entire group of merchants
 _get destroyed in the sand.
 Vaayu (Wind) is devious. He is anger-personified Rudran.
 His sound imparts fear.
 His acts are deadly.
 We praise the Wind.

Personal Note: The Part 3 talks so softly and explanatorily about the simple fact that Wind causes all the atrocities only because, he doesn’t have ears and he couldn’t hear the noises he creates. So it finds excuses for him and praises him. Whereas, in Part 4, once again the Wind’s darker side (Does Wind have sides at all?!) is put to light with its destruction of the group of merchants in the desert. How could someone find excuse as well as shows light on the executions of the same wind? Does Bharathi love wind beyond measure or what else could it be? Let us see what he comes up with in the next parts!


Note: This is the Part 3 and 4 of Bharathi’s Prose-Poetry titled “Kaatru”. Interested in the Series? Check here to read the previous parts! To read the original version in தமிழ் or in Transliterated version? Click here! And here’s a feast to the fans of Bharathi (with translation)


Autobiography of a Plagiarist

Disclaimer – This blog post is a work of fiction.

Some say truth triumphs! I had never experienced it until last winter! This change cleansed me and transformed me into a good individual. Some say that there is no difference between people who steal others things  and those who snatch others ideas. I had been doing that for my material gains.  Google turned out to be my best friend for it provided me everything that I desired. Being a blogger and an amateur writer, my mind constantly required to produce and reproduce several ideas. Most of the blogging sites that came up with  different blogging contests often came up with attractive and lucrative prizes  – iPad, iPhone, Kindle, Mac Books and various electronic gadgets. I seemed to have been blinded and smitten  by these prizes that I resort to snatching ideas.

5th November 2013 – was the day when blogger.com came up with a PAN level blogger contest. The winner of that contest was to be awarded an iPhone. ‘Human Heart Vs Human Brain – Measuring conflicts. What does the heart say when the brain says no?’ It was a  topic that had to be dealt with utmost sensitivity. I usually suck at writing such articles.  The prizes attracted my eyeballs. Gluttony hurts, it  kills!

I started thinking over the topic and my brain couldn’t conceive constructive ideas relevant to the theme of the contest. I was disappointed at the fact that I was turning creativity handicap. It was indeed challenging. Any writer wouldn’t succumb to an act that I did! I typed – Heart Vs Brain on the Google Search bar and I received numerous web links. I went through the websites one by one and accumulated points.  I jotted down the points and tried to put it on my own words.  While exploring few of those websites, my eyes grabbed the attention of a blog written by an American Teenager – Brenda Anderson.

“Heart is symbolic of emotions, feelings; attachments. It has its own reasoning which the mind may not approve of, probably because it lacks the evidence or arguments that prove it to be right. But has an understanding that assures it of not being wrong.
At times, the high EQ (emotional quotient) may overshadow the strong IQ.
The reason for it is simple when faced with a situation; our heart pulls us to one direction and the mind to the other. We don’t know which way to go this gives rise to a conflict that interferes with our ability to think rationally. There is no direction, just a dead point. We feel lost and our mind stops working, stops thinking and then we become totally dependent on what our heart tells us, after all, it’s our last resort.”

This was something that I was looking for! Spot it! I copied the entire post on my document and started working on it. I meticulously made good use of the thesaurus and changed meanings of certain complex words. I made its vocabulary easy to understand. I optimized it for an Indian audience.  The deadline for the blogger contest was approaching. Brenda Anderson was indeed a blessed girl. I explored her blog and it was the repository of literature work. Her works dealt with the highest level of art and literature. I envied her for some reason. She would have won several blogger contests if she were in India. Perhaps, at that moment, I never felt guilty publishing someone else’s article under my name and that too under PAN India level. I was feeling jubilant when I posted the link to the blogger page. I was quite sure that I would win. I had no traces of guilt in my heart. Weeks passed and even months!  The contest results were about to be announced.  Many people had appreciated that article that I had lifted from Brenda Anderson’s blog and no one had even the slightest doubt that it was a stolen one. I had received over 100 comments for that single blog post. People enjoyed reading it and they had scribbled genuine comments for that. It did make me smile!

But that night, I couldn’t sleep peacefully. My conscience knocked me hard to make me feel that I had done the biggest mistake of my life. It indicated me that this was a big shame. How could a person fall down to this level? It wanted to correct my mistake. I contemplated and thought over my act! But it seemed that the results were already announced. I was declared as the winner. I was entitled to get an iPhone. I was feeling guilty and my greed for material products had to be reprimanded. I was feeling low and disappointed.  Finally, I listened to what my heart said to me and contacted the organizers. I spilled the beans! I informed them that I had lifted the article from an American girl’s blog and modified it as per my needs. But that was an honest confession. I had tears in my eyes when I spoke all that to the organizers. The organizers discussed and decided to go with the results as announced. They had awarded me the prize for my honesty. I could have simply opted to conceal the truth, but my conscience didn’t let me sleep peacefully. For years to come, my heart would have been heavy with the guilt that would often remind me of the scar that it had left! But I acknowledged my conscience by doing something that it desired.  But it would have been inappropriate if I had accepted the prize. The organizers didn’t budge and I had to accept the prize.

Image is taken from here 

All the 100 plus comments that the blog post received belonged to that girl. It was the efforts of that American girl who deserved so many appreciations. I had just been a channel. I quickly added the link of her post to my blog post and added a line that my post had been inspired from Brenda’s blog post.

I quickly inspected her blog for her contact details. “You may want to let me know how you feel about my blog posts 🙂 How?  Write me at brenda.anderson7@live.com” It was mentioned at the right sidebar of the blog.

“Dear Brenda,

You might be wondering who this is. I would like to call myself as the greatest fan of Miss Brenda Anderson. Yes, I am a huge fan of your writing. I bumped across your blog through Google and I’m glad that I found it. Your articles have touched me deep! I would like to say something important. Last month I took part in a PAN India level contest and I had won it.  Please don’t get me wrong when I say that I had stolen ideas and points from your blog. I had lifted it. I’m feeling ashamed because of my act. Check this link – virtualstroller.blogspot.com/heartvsmind. All the comments on this blog post are meant for you.  Kindly forgive me. Please provide me your address.

Yours Truly,
Sankit”

I waited for her reply. Finally, two days later she replied me.

“Dear Sankit,

I’m so happy that you won the blogging contest. I’m indeed very happy for you. Thank you for all the kind words in the last email. That was sweet of you :). You don’t need to be sorry. You had taken my blog post and I’m glad you won it. It was nice going through the various comments in the blog post in the link that you had sent me. You are a nice soul, Sankit! Please do not say that you had stolen my blog post. : )  I have blog rolled you and consider me as a regular reader of your blog. You too do the same and yes whenever you read my post do leave some nice comments 😛 And my address is –

2411, Andersons Avenue, AV, Green Park, GA, Atlanta 30301, USA

Stay in touch, Sankit! Xoxox

Take Care,
Brenda ”

I was so happy to read all that. I quickly parceled the iPhone to her. I was not the right owner to that Apple product.  Initially, she refused to accept it. But after insisting she accepted it. We soon turned out to be good friends.  Yes, Truth indeed Triumphs! Sometimes you just need to be true to yourself. Sometimes you just need to listen to your heart. It’s an offense to steal others creativity!

————————————————————–

Friends, many times we knock Google’s door for ideas when our brain refuses to produce adequate necessary desired ideas. I feel disheartened to see and hear such things. My heart hurts when I read my blogger friends writing statuses on Facebook citing their plagiarized blog posts. Trust me that it is something that hurts any blogger. Who would like their blog post to be snatched? Remember that a plagiarist is no different than a thief. The difference is that a plagiarist steals others ideas while a thief steals products.  A plagiarist could steal someone’s blog post, but they can never steal someone’s creativity! Dear Plagiarists – Please do not hurt creative souls here. Your conscience will hurt you and you would live a life of guilt! If you go on to get inspired by someone’s work then do let the article owner know about this and you could link their blog post to yours. That would be a kind gesture. While using an image from Google, do give credits to the  image owner. This blog post might be a work of fiction, but this might be true for many of you out here! Stay blessed my creative people!


There are two ways to present a thought of others. You could get inspired and just spin the thought in your own unique wrap and present it to others. Or just share the post as is, just like I am doing here! This is a post written by my friend Stephen in his blog The Solitary Writer. He has been blogging for the past decade on various topics. His range of writings include fiction, political satire, Cricket Commentary, Social Issues, Reviews and many more. Do check out his blog for a perfect potpourri and you would surely find something to your taste, irrespective of your taste.

Wind Part 2

Wind - Part 2
Middle of the sea. A lone ship.
  Fierce stormy wind, as if the skies has unleashed their anger.
  The tides are high. It splatters ferociously.
  It explodes as it crashes.
  It plunders.
The Ship wobbles;
  It is moved in the force of the lightning;
  It crashes against a rock.
  Massacre!
  Two hundred lives perished.
  Before they perished, they realised
  the experience, of what the perishing of the era entitles.
  The end of eon will also be like this.
  The earth will be amassed with water; Hot boiling water.
  Sakthi will become the wind.
  Sivan will be furious.
  The world will seem to be one.(??)
  And that one will be Sakthi.
  And Sivan will be behind the Sakthi.
The Wind moves the ropes tied in the roofs. He pours life into them.
  The Wind shows whirlpools to water,
  adds lightning to the Sky,  
    Transforms water to fire,
    Transforms fire to water,
    Transforms water to dust,
    Transforms dust to water
    And wreaks havoc.
  The Wind brings apocalypse.
  The Wind protects.
  Let the Wind protect us.
  "Salutations to Vayu, the Lord of winds.
   You are the visible representation
   of the ultimate reality, Brahman."

Personal Note: You would better understand this personal note, if you have read the part 1 here. In the first part, the Wind was praised as the life-force and the life-giver. Now, the same Wind, which animates a piece of rope by blowing life into it, massacres 200 lives, just with a whoosh.

The first part was filled with tender love between the ropes and was so soft and elegant in its grace. Here, the same Wind has become ferocious and uncontainable. The emotions that flow through this part is more of anger, fear, ferociousness, wrath, demise, massacre et al. What a contrast and how versatile the Wind is.

The Wind brings apocalypse.
The Wind protects.
Let the Wind protect us


 

Note: This is the Part 2 of Bharathi’s Prose-Poetry titled “Kaatru”. Interested in the Series? Check here to read the previous part! I have taken up the liberty to restructure the lines for the ease of reading and using few easier common terms over the literal meaning. Would you like to view the notes on translation or To read the original version in தமிழ் or in Transliterated version? Click here! And here’s a feast to the fans of Bharathi (with translation)


Wind

Wind - Part 1
In the porch of the house is a roof.
  Thatched roof,
  with coconut leaves.
There are seven-eight bamboo pipes,
  set in  criss-cross and
  held together with ordinary jute rope,
  and over them, the thatched coconut leaves are spread.

A small excess of rope was hanging
  from one of the bamboo pipe.
  A foot-long rope.
One day, This rope was happily swinging.
  It doesn't seem to have even a silly worry.
Sometimes, it will look forlorn and hangs still.
  It doesn't even answer, when called.
Today it wasn't like that.
  Looked jolly-good.

The rope and I, are friends.
  We often talk to each other.

“If you talk to a rope, Will it reply?”
  Try talking to it,
  to find whether it replies or not.

But you have to start the conversation,
  when it's happy.
Otherwise, it will frown and be tight-lipped,
  like women.
Whatsoever, the rope in this home speaks.
  There's no doubt in that.

Did I say one rope?
  There are two ropes.
  One is one-foot long.
  The other is three-fourth of a foot long.
One male;
  Other female;
  Man and wife.

They both were looking at each other
  with amorous looks, and
  were exchanging coy  smiles, 
  bantering about sweet nothings,
  they were lost in love.
That is when, I reached there.

The male rope is named ‘Kandan.'
  The female rope is named ‘Valliyammai.’
(Just like people, small ropes can also be named.)

Kandan tries to hold Valliyammai.
  Valliyammai backs a little.
In that particular moment, I reached there.

I asked, “What Kanda, are you fine? 
  Maybe I came at the wrong moment, is it? 
  Shall I come back later?"

For which, Kandan said,
  "Ah come on, you old man! 
  What shyness in front of  you? 
  What Valli, are you angry that,
  this Iyer was witnessing our courting?"

“Fine, fine, don't ask me anything”, said Valliyammai.

For that, Kandan laughed aloud clapping hands,
  jumped and hugged Valliyammai,
  all while I was standing just there.
Valliyammai started screeching.
  But, Valliyammai was also enjoying,
  secretly.
Aren't we happy when others see, how happy we are?

I was also content in watching their show,
  what's the crime in saying the fact?
  Witnessing the intimacy of young love
  brings such a great joy, isn't it?

Since Valliyammai started screeching louder,
  Kandan left her alone.

After few moments, he caressed her again. 
  Again a screech, again the freeing;
  Again a caress, again a screech;
  this kept on continuing.

“What's this Kanda,
  you don't seem to be interested
  in saying a word to this visitor, 
  I'll come back after some time,
  shall I leave?” I asked.

“Come on, oldie, aren't you just watching us.
  Stay on for little more time.
  I've few affairs to finish with her.
  After I finish that,
  I am thinking of having a discussion
  with you on certain topics.
  Don't go away. Stay”, it said.
I stood there and kept watching.

After a while, the damsel,
  in the glaze of happiness,
  dropped her shyness,
  even forgetting that,
  I was still standing there.

Immediately a song.
 Elegantly broken pieces.
 Every line with its own tune.
 Just a couple of varaitions.
 Then another song.
As Kandan finished singing, it was Valli's turn.
 After one finished, the other one.
 Singing one after another -- Immense joy!

For some time, they keep singing,
  while standing apart, without touching.
  Then Valliyammai will go herself to caress Kandan.
  He comes to hug. She runs.
  Immense Joy!

Valliyammai got giddy with happiness
  as this continued for a long time.

I was thirsty, went to the next house to drink water,
  to quench my thirst. Both the ropes didn't notice my leaving.

When I came back and saw,
  Kandan was waiting for me,
  while Valliyammai slept.
As soon as  seeing me,
  “Where did you go, old man!
  You left without goodbye”, it said.
I asked, “Seems like madam is sleeping deeply”

Aaha! at that moment,
  The rope exploded and
  before me appeared the Lord
  and how can I express His greatness in words?

The Lord of Winds appeared.

I had always presumed that,
  His form would be broad and ballooned.
  But, His form was like a diamond needle,
  glowing brightly.

"Salutations to Vayu, the lord of winds.
 You are the visible representation of the ultimate reality, Brahman.
 I affirm that you are indeed the visible form of Brahman"
 Hail thy wind. You are indeed the visible form of Brahmam.

When he appeared,
  the skies were filled
  with the life-force's power
  and the warmth was spreading all around.

I worshipped Him a thousand times,
  with my tributes.

The Lord of Wind sayeth: -- 
   "My son, What did you ask?
   Are you asking whether
   the small rope is sleeping?
   No. It is dead.
   I am the life-force's power.
   The body / form, that is related to me, is active.
   Which doesn't relate to me is corpse.
   I am the life-force.
   Because of Me,
   that small rope was alive;
   had experienced pleasure.
   After it got a bit tired,
   I let it sleep -- die.
   Sleep is death. Death is but a sleep.
   They both do not exist where I am present.
   I will come back in the evening and blow.
   It will come back to life again. 
I awaken it. Animate it. I am the son of power, Worship me and live."

"Salutations to Vayu, the Lord of winds.
 You are the visible representation of the ultimate reality, Brahman.
 I affirm that You are indeed the visible form of Brahman"


 

Note: This is the Part 1 of Bharathi’s Prose-Poetry titled “Kaatru”. Interested in the Series? Check here to know more about it! I have taken up the liberty to restructure the lines for the ease of reading and using few easier common terms over the literal meaning. Would you like to view the notes on translation or To read the original version in தமிழ் or in Transliterated version? Click here! And here’s a feast to the fans of Bharathi (with translation)