If you're a reader, a fan of books, passionate about words, you know all too well that a nursery rhyme is never just that. Right from Dame Agatha Christie who very creatively incorporated lines from rhymes as book titles to set the stage for her mystery sagas (A few notable examples of Christie's titles being One, Two, Buckle My Shoe, A Pocket Full of Rye, Three Blind Mice, Hickory Dickory Dock - Please feel free to treat these as book recommendations), to Sidney Sheldon whose use of the nursery rhyme quoted above still sent chills down my spine. In continuation of my regular series aimed at spreading Mental Health Awareness, today I shall be basing my post on a novel titled "Tell Me Your Dreams" by the aforementioned Sidney Sheldon. If you've already read the book, then i do not need to fret over revealing spoilers. If you haven't yet, then, really? why haven't you?! And do I really need bother about revealing details to such people? Eh, No! Jokes apart, I wouldn't dream of spoiling any book for anyone, yet, the topic that I intend to cover today is more important than any of this. So, here it goes. (Please read on, I assure you, you will still enjoy the book even after this.)
Recently, I came across a Tweet that unsettled me. I live in a country where child marriage had been the norm for centuries. Even after its abolishment, the practice is still carried out in in a lot of cities. Hence, the enforcement of the Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act, 2012, came as quite a welcome relief. However, its effect has been significantly curtailed by a major legislative blunder that could very easily have been foreseen. This is what that tweet had pointed out. This is what I am going to be addressing today. Why? Because can anyway actually even begin to question why children need to be protected from any harm at all costs? I will try to explain the situation in the simplest possible terms, however, being a lawyer I might get slightly technical at places. Please bear with me, I assure you it will all make sense if you continue reading. I actually implore you to read because the importance of this topic of discussion cannot possibly be overstated. So, here it goes -
The number sizes on your garment Do not define the size or shape of your personality. The number scores on your marksheets Do not measure your worth. The number of inches in your heels Cannot determine your stature. The numbers holed up in your bank account Cannot increase your happiness. The number of donations you make Cannot diminish the darkness of your soul.
Yesterday aws indundated with Father's Day wishes doing the rounds. In all the happiness, good wishes, cheers and celebrations for the man who makes me feel like I can do anything, there was something that dampened my joy. While scrolling through my feed on almost every social media platform, I ended up seeing posts from beautiful people who had lost their dads and yet had the heart to not only share their memories, but wish everyone who was celebrating the day with their fathers yesterday. Yet some other posts talked about how their fathers or "birth-givers" had been deadbeat dads, but they were really happy for all the children being raised by people who take being a father to an altogether new level. To all such bravehearts, thank you!
I would have written something but I got to wondering if words would ever be enough. So here's just a big thank you, Daddy, for being the man that you are. To all the fathers out there, keep doing what you're doing, your children love you and are inspired by you. Your care and nurturing…
In a world that is becoming exceedingly visual/image oriented, where CGI effects are taking over storylines, you get a more than nagging feeling that something's lacking. Fortunately, the old world charm of books and stories can still hold its own. Our very much needed respite. Where books, on the one hand, leave a lot open to the interpretation of readers, the art of story-telling is so much more than that. Haven't we all fallen prey to a misinterpreted text because someone did not get the intended "tone" and "tenor" of it, hence, resulting in major misunderstanding? Thus, the written word is somewhat more concerned with the perspective of the reader, which, in its own place, is invaluable. Hearing stories, on the other hand, is not only a lesson in imagination, but the charm of experiencing feelings, expressions and emotions, in the way originally intended by the story-teller, accompanied by a voice that dips and rises, hums and croons, tremors and powers through is a pleasure that has no parallel.
I wrote a poem today which included the word "respair". This was neither a typo nor something I just made up. It is a word that got lost somewhere along the pages of time. The last known citations for it date back to 1425 AD. For a word that defines the return of hope after a period of despair, it's been an undeserved and shabby end, don't you think? I, for one, have always been fascinated with words. It baffles me that something as full of complexity like feelings can be conveyed through words. We might not be able to find the right word for what we feel at the right time, but there's comfort in the fact that one certainly does exist. If not in our language then in some other.
There all our kinds of relationships. However, some of these can be unhealthy and quite detrimental to our overall wellness. Oftentimes, we continue to subject ourselves to the torment of being in an unhealthy relationship. It is quite possible that one of the reasons underlying this habit can be the tendency of human nature to resist change. In doing so, it spells its own doom. At the cost of sounding selfish, I declare that no relationship is worth being in if it doesn't make you happy, does not let you grow as a person and if it gives you sleepless nights. You are, indeed, your foremost priority. No, you're not mean or self-centred if you prioritize yourself. This is so because the main essence of a well-rounded, fulfilling and healthy relationship is that it nurtures you to the extent that you don't have to invest in looking out for yourself. As a result, you return equal care and affection to your significant other. So when I ask you to prioritise yourself, I'm imploring you to get rid of the shackles of a lovesless relationship and welcome one that's actually right for you.
I believe I owe my readers an apology. I have changed my blog's name so many time this past week that half of you wouldn't even recognise my posts if they came up on your feed. But please bear with me, there's an explanation coming up. The blog-naming (?!) progression has gone something like this:…
A couple of years ago, I was vacationing in Singapore with my family. I happened to notice a lot of happy faces around. Not only on the streets. Even the janitors at the the various tourist attractions wore wide smiles. I still remember visibly how a 70 year old lady, while carrying her cleaning supplies, smiled and waved at me and wished me a very good day. Something kindled inside me at that moment. On getting back home, I started noticing people subconsciously. All I got to see were impatient, aggressive, angry and stern faces walking down the road. No one looked happy. I wondered what secret the Singaporeans were hiding. However, based on my limited knowledge of countries, I didn't give it much thought once a few months had passed. Then I happened to visit two more countries, Indonesia and the US. Although people responded warmly when you greeted them, despite being strangers. The general vibe emanating from faces wasn't happy in these places either. When no one's watching, their faces say it all. I was completely baffled. Not able to bear the suspense any longer, I decided to bring about a change in myself. I decided to smile a little more, to be more warm and to greet everyone I come in contact with. Right from the elderly ladies and gents who were regulars at the nearby jogger's park to the auto-drivers whose fare I was for the day, I smiled, enquired after their health and then bid them a good day.