“Je Suis Charlie”- A Dirge
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The pen is mightier than the sword,
Or so they were taught..
Who knew what they penned
Was with peril fraught?
Living in modern times
They had assumed
Freedom of expression
Who knew they were doomed?
They had not a clue
Of men on the prowl
Whose narrow-mindedness
Declared their thought foul..
Extremists they were
In their religion’s name
A heinous act they performed
Without any shame..
The world is in mourning
Shocked! Horrified!
At senseless violence;
Leaving millions petrified..
The loss is tremendous
Of precious human life;
And the fabric of freedom
Has been slashed with a knife..
In a world that stands divided
The chasm grows wider
Clash of ideology
Is the theme of the hour.
In the heat of emotion
May good sense prevail
May the good in mankind
Never ever fail…..
The Diva Within Me
I wake up, I channel
The diva within me..
New hopes I unravel,
Prepare to travel
On a new day’s journey.
I bathe in contentment,
Hope I spritz on me,
Let go of resentment
Focus on the present,
Leave conflict behind me.
Myself I prepare
To walk confidently,
Full of dare,
Acutely aware
Of the diva in me.
Every challenge I conquer
And gain victory,
With honesty and candor
I always surrender
To the diva in me.
One Word Photo Challenge-Marsala
Cee’s Which Way Photo Challenge: 2015 #1
Five favorites- Verses
I have always loved poetry, and some verses have stuck with me over the years. These are some of my favorites (I have included only the verses that I remember):
1. The Glories of Our Blood and State- James Shirley
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Broken pieces
Trying to assemble themselves again,
Some with edges smoothened by love,
Some with edges jagged by pain.
Carrying in them thoughts half-formed,
Wishes and aspirations,
Some that perished, some that exist
In suspended animation.
Hope does try to mold them
So they fit like a puzzle, jigsaw;
Love does try to glue them together
And bond the edges raw.
We break into pieces
And then turn whole
Rearranging the pieces
Assuming a new role.
Ceilings
There is something about artistic ceilings that makes me want to take pictures of them…it’s challenging with a point and shoot camera, and often the results are less than ideal. But the idea of craning my neck and shooting upwards is just too much to resist…hope you like these amateur attempts!
Blue Mosque, Istanbul, Turkiye
Hagia Sofia, Istanbul, Turkiye
Duomo, Santa Maria del Fiore, Florence, Italy
Vatican City ceiling design
Vatican City ceiling paintings
Vatican City ceiling painted by Raphael
Vatican City ceiling art in galleries
Gold-encrusted ceiling, Doges Palace, Venice, Italy
Ceiling art, Glencarin Museum, Bryn Athyn, Pennsylvania
Ceiling of Sheesh Mahal (glass palace), Jaipur, India
Ceiling of Hindu Temple, New Jersey
And the oddball one, this represents Santa’s gift delivery system in the sky-at Yankee Candle Village, Massachusetts
If life were a Bollywood movie…
Indians will know what I am talking about right away, but as for others, I am talking about the Indian film industry which churns out a large number of movies every year. While the content and presentation of movies in Bollywood has changed in keeping with the changing times, some stereotypes are so quintessentially Bollywoodian (is that even a legitimate word?) that we cannot imagine a (commercial) film without them.
What if life were as dramatic as a Bollywood movie?
- We would break into a song-and-dance sequence whenever we were happy, excited or in love. And people would join us on the streets, perfectly in sync with the melody, picking up the dance moves instantaneously. Traffic would stop, and the rest of the world would have not a care in the world as they would either join us or watch us. If everyone could sing and dance so well on an impromptu basis, all music and dance schools would close!

- We would turn into first class poets in times of sadness or heartbreak, and again be capable of crooning in perfect melody despite our sobs….
- We would be able to drive like crazy without having an accident and reach the airport / train station in record time just as our beloved was about to board a flight/ train. In case of the latter, the train would already start moving and we would be able to run and keep pace with it.

- Every family would have a special song that would help unite various members if they got separated in a fair…
- We would be cavorting in the rain without getting muddy or catching a cold…

- All of us of the fairer sex would be able to walk around in snow-clad mountains in flimsy chiffons, even as the men pile on their warm jackets.

- Telepathy would be an everyday occurrence, and all moms of the world would know when their children were in trouble..
The list is practically endless, and these are just a few of the quirks seen in Bollywood movies. In any case, I love these stereotypes and this predictability of Bollywood movies- all they offer is pure, guilt-free entertainment!
Call of the wild
Always an Indian at heart- Phir bhi dil hai Hindustani
Above: Holiday lights showcasing the Taj Mahal in Philadelphia
This may sound strange and duplicitous for someone who left her country to pursue greener pastures to say, but I’m going to talk about it anyway…I still consider myself deeply patriotic. Having aspired to travel the world as an ambassador from India (by joining the Indian foreign services) when I was younger, I still cannot erase the idea from my mind that I represent my parent country even while living in the US. I am going to be judged as an Indian most of the time (most people realize pretty soon that I am “fresh-off-the-boat” or a first generation immigrant, probably due to my accent, if not anything else), and I always want to put my best foot forward as an Indian.
It hurts me deeply to see everything that is wrong with my country…and its not just about the poverty and lack of infrastructure. I am saddened by the apathy of people, the plight of women, the rising reports of violence against women, the tangled web of corruption…all the ways in which we Indians fail our country. (By the way, I am still an Indian citizen, so calling myself an Indian is factually correct.) I wish the deep-rooted attitudes could change, not just at the surface, but deep within.
What irks me most is the paternalistic society that India has. Women in India are probably more repressed than in any other secular nation in the world. I am not talking about rural areas or uneducated sections of the society alone. Even amongst people of the highest class, the respect awarded to women is deplorable. I had not even realized this until I came to the US, and I had lived and studied among educated people in India all my life. What appeared to be a normal way of being treated by men in my country would actually be quite derogatory here. In the US, several women have confided that they find many Indian men lacking basic manners when it comes to dealing with women.
I usually do not feel comfortable criticizing India. I make a conscious effort to remember everything that is good about my country, like family ties, respect for elders (my professional performance reports by my mentors consistently mention my respectful attitude, which appears strange to me because that was ingrained in me right from the beginning, but it is not something people take for granted here), secularism (people are surprised that I know about other religions or that I can sing Christmas carols), and more than anything else, commitment to work that transcends comforts and pleasure because that is how we were raised (especially useful in the field of medicine).
Tall words from someone who left the borders of India. I am acutely aware of my runaway situation, and have deep respect for colleagues of mine who chose to stay behind in India, and are constantly trying to help their country by bringing new medical technology to India. This may be a lame excuse, but my choice of specialty in the field of medicine (cardiology) was one that was (and still is) underrepresented among women in India, and I could foresee many barriers to practicing that specialty in India. The challenges in the US are far less for a woman cardiologist.
When I get started on the topic of India, it is really difficult for me to stop. So I’ll end here with this poem that I love-
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
‘This is my own, my native land!’
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour’d, and unsung.”
― Walter Scott






































