Passion…unbridled

Wikipedia definition-” Jugaad (alternatively Juggaar) is a colloquial Hindi (Devanagiri जुगाड़) and Punjabi word, literally meaning a hack. It is generally used as word to represent an innovative fix or a simple work-around, used for solutions that bend rules, or a resource that can be used as such, or a person who can solve a complicated issue. This meaning is often used to signify creativity to make existing things work or to create new things with meager resources.”

(This post is inspired by the launch of 20 satellites in a single mission by India, produced at a fraction of the cost of NASA satellites.)

In the midst of resources scant, ingenuity runs high

Feet planted on earth, eyes lifted towards the sky

Out of box thinking has always been in vogue

Hacking is a way of life, call them maverick or rogue

When they come up with products at a fraction 

Of the cost involved in a developed nation

That work equally well,  less energy consume

Leave critics awestruck, they can no longer assume

That the product, being cheap, must be inferior

Granted, less appealing might be its exterior

This capability of “jugaad” is inherent to every Indian

Survival in paucity requires principles Darwinian

Most days they are loud, chaotic, disorganized

But once in a while, the world is surprised

By the unexpected display of ingenuity profound

Leaving agape critics and economists all around

Frugal thinking and flexibility are features salient

Of “jugaad”, the concept that’s quite ancient

Maybe the rest of the world with shrinking reserves

Should take a page out of Indian books to conserve

Precious resources that might one day disappear

Learn to make do with less, and scarcity not fear..

(Image source: https://www.linkedin.com/topic/jugaad-innovation)

 

 

As I sit down to eat all alone

Checking messages on my phone

Occupying a small corner of the table

Thinking to myself if only I was able

To go back in time and fill up the empty space

Wipe away the loneliness that I had to face

Of eating dinner without any company

Except that of myself and my gluttony..

I travel back to my childhood days

Where dinner was in many ways

Bonding time for the family entire

By an unwritten law each member was required

To be present at the table to break bread

Or be in peril of going to bed hungry instead

While during the day life happened to us

Over dinner as a family we discussed

Our daily highlights, frustrations and fears

We laughed at our antics, we shed some tears

While simultaneously enjoying food glorious

Freshly prepared, every dish scrumptious

(Especially when compared to my dinner current)

Such luxuries are now from my life absent..

It is true what they say about food and family-

Ordinary food becomes gourmet with good company!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It took me years to realize
Who I was in my father’s eyes
The empowered woman that I am today
Would not have been without the way
I was raised by my father in a society
That glorified tradition and propriety
He taught me to do what my heart desired
He was ready to take any criticism that was fired
Against my choices that unconventional appeared
Because of him, exploring new grounds I have never feared

He lowered the peaks he wanted to climb
But when it came to ambition mine
He gave me the courage to aim for the skies
He always wiped away disappointment from my eyes

A guiding light in my life he has been
An omnipresent shoulder to lean
On- his greatest gift to me would be
The fact that he believed in me.

 

“The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars

But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”

-Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

 

From time immemorial man has tried

To make some sense of this world wide

 

Life operates in ways quite mysterious

It’s machinations make human beings curious

When scientific inquiry fails to provide

Answers; science and superstition collide-

Thus was born astrology, a discipline controversial

Claiming our fates are tied to configurations astral

How can stars and planets located light years away

Influence a mere human, a skeptic would say

Yet people trying to make sense of their lives that spin

Out of control check horoscopes daily, trying to believe in

Anything that gives them some semblance of control

Astrological predictions are like therapy for their souls

The stars  make a nice scapegoat, I would say

To unload responsibility- they can be blamed anyway

When they “align” (a term quite dubious)

Fate would bestow you with blessings copious

 

Belief in astrology should have been outdated

To the era of Shakespeare it should have been delegated

But newspapers across the world  still carry a column

Dedicated to this discipline, read by millions

Some hang on to every word but for others

It is frivolous entertainment, like any other

Section devoted to housekeeping or fashion

Nice to read but with no direct implication

 

The stars were aligned so this verse was written

May the planets behave themselves in the heavens!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Knowing you have something good to read before bed is among the most pleasurable sensations.”

Vladimir Nabokov

As a sensitive, impressionable kindergartner

Learning alphabets and words I did suffer

 

Slowly and painstakingly, once I had gained

Mastery over the printed word, my developing brain

Found nothing more fascinating than books-

I learnt to read hidden in crannies and nooks

At a gathering of adults engrossed in conversation

I would slip away much to my mother’s consternation

Find a cozy corner and settle down with a book

Nothing outside those pages merited a look

I learnt to enter stories, characters befriend

I prayed for positive twists at the end..

 

As years went by, life did not remain

Uncomplicated, there were moments of pain

Through every step of my life, I can say

Books were my companions along the way

Milestones in my life I could measure

By change from one to another genre

 

Now I go through life at a dizzying pace

Where a good book is still a saving grace

It helps me wind down and allays

My anxiety in many different ways

Now I view reading as a private affair

As a stimulating discourse extraordinaire

Between the reader and the writer alone

The experience of reading is my very own

 

 

I am a bookaholic a thousand times over

And  I have a responsibility to shoulder-

To teach my child to learn and discover

In the printed word the same sense of wonder

That I had found when I was his age-

The excitement of turning every single page

 

The love of learning I’d like to instil

His mind’s corners with imagination fill..

(P.S. This photograph shows the books I am currently reading.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blessed are Mendel, Watson and Crick

All those who discovered one big trick-

That our characteristics and behavior any day

Can be blamed on our genes and DNA..

From obvious physical traits and maladies rare

To an optimistic disposition- nothing is spared

From the influence of the mighty double strand

All quirks of human body seem to stand

Subservient to the whims of their genetic constitution- 

DNA has, indeed, acquired a dubious reputation

For being implicated in everything from addiction

To anger, adultery, any behavioral affliction..

Easy it is to blame something that cannot be changed

While (modifiable) environmental issues remain unnamed

By  blaming unacceptable behaviors on heredity

There is a tendency to absolve oneself of responsibility..

But here is something that we should remember

While DNA loads the gun, lifestyle pulls the trigger*,

So even if the genetic code stays a mystery

Actions can outshine family history!

 

(Mendel discovered genes, Watson and Crick discovered double-stranded DNA)

(*Adapted from a quote by Mehmet Oz)

(Image source: http://www.123rf.com/clipart-vector/genetics.html)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pluviophile: a lover of rain;someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days

I love the rain, clichéd though it might sound

The sound of raindrops falling on the ground

Dotting my windowpane, following a rhythm of their own

Keeping me company as I sit indoors alone

It’s not that getting soaked in rain I appreciate

Nor is splashing in puddles appealing, I must state

But curling up with a book and some hot tea

On my couch by the window seems heavenly

When it rains outside I have an excuse perfect

To procrastinate on errands, no one would expect

Me to drive around town braving the roads slick

And traffic snarls- the thought makes me sick

Rainy days provide an ideal ambience

For conjuring up poetry saturated with romance..

Rainy days thus give me the time and space

That I crave in my life that runs at a fast pace..

Run, my dear, run!!
I know the day has just begun
But it will be over before you know
You might not have anything to show
For all those hours, think of the guilt
Gnawing at you as you duck under the quilt
That there is so much more left to do
Being productive is really important for you
So that you do not lag behind your peers
You cannot deny that competition is fierce..

This was my inner voice urging me on
To race constantly, go on and on
No achievement was enough, ever
Slowing down was not an option, never
Could I back out from any opportunity
That promised one-upmanship in the community

The constant running was wearing me down
My face was contorted in a permanent frown
Run, run, run- echoed through my mind
Though I was running through an alley blind
Was my raison de’tre this endless race?
This was a question that I had to face
What was I running from, and to what end?
I was being industrious, yes I could pretend
Whatever I needed I had already acquired
Other material objects I now hardly desired
All I wanted was a pace of life much slower
I needed to set the bar of expectations lower

So I tried to ignore the voice in my head
And concentrate on savoring moments instead
A new perspective on life I obtained
I am now more relaxed, that much I can claim!

Sitting in the waiting room, impatiently I
Watch the medical staff go milling by
The tables are turned, the other side I am on
Vulnerable I feel; like my patients, I reckon
Fidgeting in my seat, anxious to be seen
Upset about the wait, thinking I could have been
Far more productive if away from this place
Certain that annoyance is written on my face..
I look around, see others quite contented
Awaiting their turn, not one has commented
On the torture of waiting, I marvel at their patience
Simultaneously trying to find reasons for my impatience
I try to read magazines, but words have no meaning
I am scared, towards the divine I am leaning..

 

Being a patient when you are a physician
Is like a punishment sent from the heaven
Because the burden of knowledge is detrimental
To reasonable acceptance of illness- more sentimental
Am I when the doctor gives me my diagnosis
I envision the worst in terms of  my prognosis
Fearful scenarios play repeatedly in my mind
I cannot wait to hear what the doctor might find

 

All this while my blood pressure is shooting up high
My vital signs will be abnormal; and I know why
I take a deep breath; try to invoke some zen 
I calm down for maybe, ten seconds..
Finally I hear my name called out
My relief is visible to others, no doubt
This is the first step, there is more waiting to endure
I have conquered the first step at least, I am sure
I realize my patients are subjected to this wait every day
They rarely complain, almost never say
How they have lost time and productivity
Once again I am humbled by this reality!