Tag: Humor

đŸ« It’s a đŸ« Plum đŸ« Life! đŸ«

đŸ« It’s Plum Season đŸ«

I’ve written about the Joys of Jam Making.  I do love the fruitful camaraderie from plum season.

I waved at the Fed Ex truck driver as he turned into our street. The son said, urgency dripping in his voice, “Quick ma! Now you’ve established contact – you can give him some plums!”

I stared at him.

A beat.

Then. I started laughing.

The wag!

I have been accosting all those who come home with delicious plums, but this felt a bit much. Plum season in our neighborhood arrives with a splash. Suddenly, there are dozens of plums plopping all over the backyard. Ripe, tasty, beautiful plums.

đŸ« Plums in a Splash đŸ«

I cannot help missing the mater. If she were here, she would be making plum jams, plum chutneys, plum pickles, plum juice, plum rasam till we all heartily felt sick of plums. I myself have been going in and picking up plums by the dozen and bringing them in to share with friends. I can barely understand how quickly the bare tree, bloomed into the prettiest blossoms, and gave in to the light green beautiful leaves before sagging with fruits at every point.

It is a miracle, and yet, every year, I am mesmerized.

One day, I felt three plums hit me from the topmost branch. I was picking those that had fallen, and then realized that these three could have been the handiwork of squirrels. I looked up at them beseechingly. What was the point of all that exciting running around and chasing each other on fences if they weren’t helping out with the plums? As if responding to me, one cheekily stopped and held my stare, as if to say, “I have had my fill. A fella has got to jump and run!”

đŸ« Did You Know? đŸ«

Fruits arriving in bounty are a blessing. The children, despite my best retreats, continue to resist the lure of fruits. Every year I start it up – each time with a different taste-bud related tip. “Did you know? Your taste buds change over time?”

“Did you know having a fiber-rich helping of fruits helps your gut bacteria?”

“Did you know fruits help make you happier because the gut bacteria love digesting them?”

“Did you know this?”

Or

“Did you know that?”

To which, I also receive a plummy reply, “Did you know we don’t like plums?”

What I did not know until recently, is that not all plums dried become prunes. Of course I had a gooey rotting mess before I learnt that particular fact, but apparently, only a certain variety of European plums can be dried to be preserved as prunes. Oh well.

If I could send some plummy goodness via the internet, I would. But as it is, somethings still require physical proximity. But if you are in the vicinity, please stop by. We’ll have a plum time!

Moon, plum blossoms, this, that, and the day goes

Kobayashi Issa

P & L : Build Your P In Life

Life with Purpose or Passion?

I sat with a set of children’s books in my arms. I looked down fondly at the pile next to me – I did love this particular selection. For nestling in there were the kind of careers that I had not imagined since being a child myself – A balloonist, giraffologist, naturalist.

The Giraffologist – Anne and her Tower of Giraffes – by Karlin Gray and Aparna Varma

I picked up the book on Dr Annie and read about how she decided on a lifetime studying giraffes. What remarkable creatures? No wonder it fascinated a young girl all those decades ago when zoos did not have them. World travel and exotic creatures felt almost impossible. She tried studying zoology just so she could learn more about giraffes. But nobody had studied them in any detail.

As I looked at the pictures in the book, Dr Annie came to life again. In her gentle understanding of these creatures in a time when they only graced black-and-white illustrations of some books.

Butterflies open up Etymology

I thought of Maria Sibylla Merian and her love for butterflies in the 18th century. She raised caterpillars and painstakingly drew and described metamorphosis. I am not sure if it was a revolutionary discovery, but it certainly seems to have opened up the world of etymology to the western world.

Sylvia Earle – the oceanographer who spent more than 7000 hours underwater, in a lifelong journey to understand the astounding diversity of life in the marine world.

The fact that these women kept at their areas of passion is inspiring – I wonder what their personalities were like. Beyond the obvious curiosity, intelligence, perseverance etc. What were the forces that shaped them?

Life’s Calling, Yearning or Liking

I remember reading in Stephen Cope’s book, The Great Work Of Your Life – A Guide for the Journey to your True Calling, about Jane Goodall’s mother encouragement when she couldn’t find her daughter one day. She searched for her for 4 hours only to find that the young child had simply been curious to find out about how an egg came to this world. Jane had spent the afternoon in the chicken coop waiting for the hens to lay eggs. Instead of chastising her for it, her mother saw a passion in the young child and nurtured it instead.

I was a little wary of the book when I picked it up. Purpose, and finding your life’s purpose etc were things that had given me enough existential grief over the years. When people told me we each were born with a purpose, I felt a little lost. Like everyone was born with a map( “Here you go – keep it safe and look it up when ever you want!”), just before arriving, and I had missed picking it up – dreaming I suppose.

I feel no great calling to study deer as much as I love gazing at them. I never felt the urgent yearning to study Compiler Design though I thoroughly enjoyed the subject. I did not seem to have that intense humanitarian strain either that came to Mother Teresa in life. In fact, apart from musing and writing about life in general, I am not sure I had any inner force driving my inner purpose etc. All I knew was that I could spend hours in nature and in my own imagination. I liked company, but was also quite capable of amusing myself.

Where did that lead?

I remembered reading Mark Twain’s words:

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”

I don’t remember the former, and I am waiting for the latter. I am well aware that I am in the second innings of my life, so I am not sure the realization that Mark Twain had, is coming for me.

What appealed to me more was a concept I read in passing somewhere: Build your purpose.

So while I find it wonderful that for some people their purpose seems apparent to them, and their motivations align beautifully with their life’s journeys, I think that for many of us, the meandering journey is life. The purpose is built along the way. If we can find things to be passionate about, that is great, but it isn’t a given. 

This wasn’t the first time I mused on professions and its link as a means of economic prosperity. If the two weren’t linked. If money was not the primary driver, what kinds of jobs would people choose?

What Would You Do?

I remembered the Elephant Keeper I had met and befriended on a day trip in Ireland. She & I were the only ones who had come without companions on that sight-seeing trip, so we took to talking to each other. It was the most fascinating day-in-the-life I had heard from someone in person. She lived on a farm, worked with elephants, and sent me pictures and videos of the gentle giants in her care. Her love for them evident in each of them.

What would each of you have chosen if livelihoods, and societies weren’t involved in the decision-making? The wackier the jobs the more I’d like to hear them. So, please let me know.

Up to my neck!

The Giraffologist 

I sat with a set of children’s books in my arms. I looked down fondly at the one in my hands. The first one was about a giraffologist – the title pulling my attention almost immediately. What a delightful sounding profession?

The Giraffologist – Anne and her Tower of Giraffes – by Karlin Gray and Aparna Varma

The book is based on Dr Annie Innis Dagg who was the world’s first giraffologist. The world’s first primatologist, Dr Jane Goodall, is of course well-known. But Dr Annie, who went to Africa to study her favorite animals, giraffes, just 4 years later is practically unheard of. That is the weird nature of public attention.

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/kitchener-waterloo/new-heritage-minute-anne-innis-dagg-giraffes-1.7648146

Dr Annie’s life and work was made into a documentary in Canada honoring her work towards preserving these tall creatures.

The daughter’s drawing of a giraffe:

Bill Bryson’s book, The Body – A Guide for Occupants

I was thinking of giraffes and their beautiful necks one day after reading Bill Bryson’s book, The Body – A Guide for Occupants. One section of the book dealt with how prone we are to choke. One particularly sad anecdote about a person who had a gold coin lodged in his throat was especially excruciating. If nothing else, I am glad we now live in a time and age when surgical techniques have come so far from the ones outlined in the book. (The coin only fell out when he was hoisted by his foot and swung like a pendulum. )

Beautiful Necks Everywhere!

Our evolution into bipedalism means that necks took on a truly unique structure to support the head, and provide a forward looking face for navigation. I stopped and chuckled at that. I was on a walk, and just like that, I started noticing necks everywhere. The crane, the gray heron, the hummingbird, the dog, squirrel and the cat.

I got home to look up the giraffe’s neck again.

Did you know that both giraffes and humans have the exact same number of bones in our necks : 7

Yet, the giraffe’s neck supports its long neck, and its heart supports pumping blood all the way up there. All those jokes about tall folks( How’s-the-weather-up-there?) suddenly feels biologically profound.

In any case, the understanding of our biology, our evolution, and our unique places in the planet is shaped by so many factors –  How many giraffes with weird ears and longer tails evolved before the long necked ones that we know and love?

I craned my neck to look at a white egret crook its neck and plunge into the waters with precision and force for its breakfast, and gently massaged my own neck. ‘Up to my neck with worries’ took on a new meaning too, and I hoped giraffes and herons never had to use that phrase, when worried.

21 Years of Blogging – My Blog is now an Adult!

21 years of blogging

Just like that, my blog has become a proper functioning adult. 

21 years of selectively writing about what matters to an ordinary person. Somehow, reflecting on the writing makes it seem like our lives were more adventurous, humorous, and fun-filled. 

Now, isn’t that a lovely gift? 

I was reading Bill Bryson’s book, The Body, and in it, he says something incredible about memories – that we can predominantly choose what we want to remember. That often our most colorful memories aren’t the original ones at all – but rather deepened by the feeling and retelling of it. We’ve seen it in the stories we love to tell each other all the time. Every time we laugh about our own foibles, it makes the memory a more endearing one, doesn’t it? 

Where am I going with all this?

Curating the blog’s theme

I realize that I am probably tending to what gets on my blog. I tend to actively gravitate towards what I want to cherish in life – beautiful moments, humorous moments, peaceful moments, intellectual moments: in short, moments of awe, curiosity, love, levity, and transformation. The negative rooted out like weeds (which is not to say that I don’t have them. I do, of course. Just in measured quantities on the blog.) 

Anyway.

There are no awards given for 21 years of writing 1-2 blog posts a week, every week for 1092 weeks. 5-9 posts a month for 252 months. The award is the writing, and the wholly generous readers who stop by to wave, hopefully feel a moment of peace, get a laugh or two, and encourage me endlessly. 

So, go ahead – this is a party! 

Get drunk – I mean on the posts in the blog. I don’t actually offer alcohol. Please head on over and randomly click on any month, read a few, and let me know what you think, or you know, just have fun. 

“I mused for a few moments on the question of which was worse, to lead a life so boring that you are easily enchanted, or a life so full of stimulus that you are easily bored.”

― Bill Bryson, Lost Continent: Travels In Small-Town America

Is there more to life?

Is there more to life? Our lives? Most lives? I don’t know. But I know that ‘this one precious life’, as Mary Oliver puts it demands our attention. What you value, and what you remember over the moments of your life, becomes you, doesn’t it?

To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work. – Mary Oliver

P.S: WordPress tells me I have a significant achievement: World Domination – for receiving visitors from over 150 countries – with the sweet caption: The United Nations has nothing on you.

Imaginating Nothing

 

Nothing Good!

“How was your day?”

“Good!”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” 

For years, this was the standard response I got. It takes grit and determination to get past that answer every day for years. My school’s motto was Never Give In for a reason. I plunge on. “So when is Dr Seuss week? Should we buy a Dr Seuss hat?” (We still have the hat somewhere I think.) “It’s read-across-America week right? What should we read for our read-a-thon?”

You see? The thing is, I cannot imagine their school to be a place where nothing happens. It can’t be when they are making diasporas of dinosaur habitats, writing book reports of The Magic Tree House, learning about exotic animals – supposedly in preparation for their field trip to the zoo, and making art so their little fingers look like they dipped their hands into a rainbow. 

Yet. Nothing and Good. Good for Nothing answers both.

Then, something wonderful happened. 

Literature Lives

I started volunteering in elementary school classrooms. Sometimes, as a volunteer teaching experimental science, other times as a connoisseur introducing fine books of literature. 

“Oh! You’re a Booklegger lady now? Cool Amma! I used to love when they came to school.” said the son one day when I told him that I had signed up to become a Booklegger volunteer at the local library. 

“You knew about this program?” I said, stunned.

“Yeah, of course! It was always fun when the Booklegger people came.” He said.

“All those years I asked you, how was your day? And you never said a thing!” I said, somewhat stung at this omission. The children knew I would have loved to hear about volunteers from the library coming to introduce new books to them. Especially when I had to beg them to read books other than Captain Underpants and Dog Man all the time. He shrugged, and said “Eh!”, good-naturedly and moved on.

Nothing – by Michael Molinet

One day, I read the book, NOTHING – By Michael Molinet

“You have to read this. “ I said pressing the book to the son as he pranced into the house after biking with his friends one evening. 

https://www.amazon.com/Nothing-Michael-Molinet/dp/1733354840/ – NOTHING by Michael Molliner Book 

You see? The book even starts off with the exact sequence I wrote about earlier. How was your day? Fine! What did you do? Nothing.

The book captures the spirit behind the word ‘Nothing’ the way the son says it so perfectly, it is like the author has been around watching the son imaginate.

Imaginating Nothing

He loves to imaginate. A verb he coined himself and a word that has become a household word in the nourish-n-cherish home. It means actively imagining scenarios and living them. I know he fights off pirates and takes on armies when he leaps off the bed to the carpeted floor. The fake swords may not survive an actual duel on the battlefield, but the cushions in the house don’t stand a chance! 

So many times, the only thing that has stopped me from running out of the house fearing an earthquake, is the fact that earthquakes are felt from the earth, not from the bedroom upstairs. When his friends are over to play, the Richter scale shivers and stutters. 

Please head on over to the book to see what Nothing means when your child says they did ‘Nothing’ all day. I assure you it is more exciting than anything any of us do.

If only the Good days on which we do Nothing are half as exciting!

Good! Nothing! Good-For-Nothing Answers!

Nothing Good!

“How was your day?”
“Good!”

“What did you do?”
“Nothing!”

For years, this was the standard response I got from the children after school. Never one to be deterred though, I’d redirect, prod, ask specific questions: What did Shriya say about your new drawing pencils? Did Shrinik do somersaults after lunch today also?

You see? The thing is, I could not imagine their school to be a place where nothing happened, and the best adjective for the day was ‘Good!’. I knew for a fact that they listened to their teacher read out stories, they hopped along the number line, slid up and down through graphs, chased butterflies, had turf wars with sticks and stones, played sharks and minnows in the playground, were enthralled as they enacted civil wars, made the artwork that papered the walls of their colorful classroom, and so much more.

Yet. Nothing and Good. Good for Nothing answers both.

Then, something wonderful happened.

Dancers Move!

I started volunteering in elementary school classrooms, as a volunteer – sometimes reading out books, other times, teaching experimental science.

One day, we were experimenting with air pressure and force with the kindergarten children. One of the experiments was to blow bubbles to see how the bubbles stayed airborne. It was a lovely windy day, and the bubbles were a joy to teacher, volunteers, and students alike. There were delighted gasps as large bubbles drifted off into the air, and much chasing after the smaller bubbles.

When finally, the class was done, and we headed back into the classroom, the teacher said, “Oh! They have too much energy. They’ll never settle down to sit and do anything now. Let me get them to release some energy first!” I wondered what she would do, as recess was behind us, and lunch time was a while away.

I started laughing when I saw her switching on some music. “Dancers Move!”, she said, and the children seemed to know what to do. I watched mesmerized as the little ones danced to the music. What a wonderful way to blow off some extra energy?

“Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school.” —Albert Einstein

I thought everyone danced!

I narrated the whole thing to the teenaged son later that day as went on a windy day walk, and he laughed, “Yes! I remember doing that all the time!”

I tell you.

“All those times I asked you how was your day, and you said ‘Good!’, you danced in school?” I said, flustered more by this than the whipping winds.

“Yes
but don’t you see? It was good. Yes. But we did it all the time. It was nothing new.”

“Why do you think I yearned to hear about your days? We didn’t dance in the office!”

“Yes, but we didn’t know that! I thought every one danced!”

I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. It is true isn’t it? He didn’t know what our days were like. If anything, our days were good too. Just not listening-to-stories, playing-with-air-bubbles on windy days, and dancing to let-off-steam good.

So, what do your good days look like? You know? The days you do nothing.

Please share, I’d love to hear.

🐟đŸȘžđŸ  🐟 What A Wonderful World! 🐟đŸȘžđŸ  🐟

Disney Themed Apparel

It was the Friday before a long week-end. The son was excited that his college-going sister was coming home, and bustled about in the morning. “Amma! Do we have any Disney t-shirts?” He yelled in response to my “It’s getting late, what are you doing? We have to go.”

“It’s Disney themed clothes today in school. I don’t have any Mickey Mouse tees or even Marvel tees. Anything?”

I stopped – midway through pouring my coffee into a cup. How could there not be any Disney t-shirts in the house? How could Disney have snuck out so quietly? All those years of Disneyland trips and Disney themed toys and clothes. How could there be none now? I felt a pang for those childhood years that seem like they just rushed past & pulled myself together.

I vaguely remembered an old sweatshirt I had picked out for the donation pile, and was happy to see a small Mickey Mouse on it. Off we went to school jabbering about the daughter’s visit, the son sporting a sweatshirt with slightly short sleeves.

The daughter arrived later that day. After a joyous and somewhat exuberant reunion that made a few rose petals fall out in the flowerbed outside, order was restored.

“Movie night!” They yelled together when asked what they’d like to do.

Movie Night

Choosing movies for week-end movie nights is something of a process in the nourish-n-cherish household. Every person is allowed 3-5-10-12 vetoes. Then, among the ones that did not get a veto, there is a vote.

Sometimes, a process like this tests Yours Truly’s patience, but the husband never really tires of it. Every veto spurs him on, like he is watching a great wave gather power before crashing on the shores. He gets excited. He bows to the almighty powers of whatever is trending then: the internet, social media, AI, and relentlessly chases after good entertainment options. It is like watching a puppy play with a butterfly. The more the butterfly flies, the more excited the puppy gets.

It baffles me.

One day, on a walk with my friends, I confessed that I sometimes just agree to something to get the process over with. I was still wincing with the previous night’s choice: Amazing Superhero This or Fantastic Superhero That. One of those.

Much has been written about the democratic process, but one of my friends nailed it that day on the walk: “I am all for democracy, as long as I get the outcome I want.” She was referring to the choices she would like her children to make, of course, but I found that true and hilarious. Ask any politician, and it is something they would heartily agree with in private. Some may even be brash enough to tout it as their trademark.

Over the years, the process has become more laborious. The husband rises to the challenge each time, and I felt a little sorry for him. I notice he rarely exercises his own veto just so that we can agree on something.

So, I told the children that between them, whatever they agreed upon, we’d watch that, and headed out for a walk with the husband.

Themed Choices

“Okay – how about we watch Tinker Bell today?” The daughter said, almost as soon as I set foot in the house.  I thought about it. “Interesting choice, but did your brother get a chance to agree?” I said. I could not imagine her newly-minted teenage brother who did not own any Disney tees agreeing to Tinker Bell.

“Of course he did!”, she said, ruffling his hair. “Tomorrow, we are watching Cars!” The son beamed. “We thought it would be an interesting back-to-our-childhood themed movie week-end.”

I smiled, and the husband moaned. “As if it wasn’t enough that we had to watch these movies on repeat for years!”

“You can use your veto.” I said, feeling sorry for the man, while the children objected furiously, “You said we could watch anything as long as we both agreed!”

The husband, ever a sop to appease the children said, “No no! We’ll watch.” And then sighed so heavily as he took off his shoes, I thought he was getting a foot massage from an alligator.

So, that’s how we found ourselves in a Back-to-Disney movie marathon.

Back-to-memories

It was wonderful. Both movies had to be stopped several times as we remembered little anecdotes from their childhood. These movies formed the basis of so many conversations, stories, games, Disneyland visits, theatrical shows of display, and dumb-charades games. It was a part of our culture.

We seldom to stop to think of long-form entertainment. But any time we do, we realize how important it is to have good entertainment options. Books, movies, art, music, theatre. What would we do without it?

It would be like living in a monochrome world, my mind supplied. I watched the children cackling over some joke in the movies, and thanked the world for Disney movies. The memories in our heads seem so much more colorful thanks to them.

I made a note to buy some Disney t-shirts and beamed my happiness, feeling almost bioluminescent.

What a wonderful world!

The Magic of Rain & Light

The past few days have been days of unimaginable beauty in the Bay Area. They have been rainy days. Rainy days in the Bay Area are a different kind of beautiful. For it rains, it pours, it drizzles, it teases, it dances, and it drums and sometimes just goes away. Occasionally, if you are really lucky, you can see a rainbow or two. 

One evening, the son & I wrapped up and went on a walk. It was a windy day, and temperatures tend to dip a bit more than usual on windy days around the time of a sunset. The clouds were so thick and ready for some rains, that we knew we would not be gazing at the sunset exactly. Still, that time of the day seems to beckon one, doesn’t it? Something about it makes it feel sacrosanct. 

Feeling Bubbly?

We chatted about this and that. Mostly of the experiment I had done with the children at the school I had volunteered in. Our experiment with air and whether they have force, culminating in blowing bubbles were a thumping success if the joy, laughter and smiles were anything to go by. We blew small, medium, big and humongous bubbles into the air. It is an amazing feeling when volunteers, teachers & the children have a great time. I told the son as much, and he grinned with what I knew was not just indulgence but genuine happiness for us.

Shining With Divinity?

On the way back, a beautiful trick of the light meant that the world behind us glowed golden through the clouds, while ahead of us, it glowed silver through the clouds. The pair of us stopped our chattering, and smiled together. Both of us stuck trying to find the right word for the light. Maybe even wondering how to catch this moment in a literal bubble. For it was so beautiful. 

“Divine light, huh?”

“Yeah! I don’t think I know exactly what that light is, but this comes closest no?” the son agreed. 

Light is such a beautiful phenomenon. We spend our lives trying to hold it, we have endless literary devices around it (Light at the end of the tunnel, lightness of being, making light of a situation) – But always, it is in a positive light (huh!) 

Rainy days bring out the beautiful potentialities for experiencing light. It can evoke melancholy, gratitude, divinity, surrender, and most importantly awe. 

Rainbows

When the raindrops manage to create total internal refraction, there is nothing but joy, wonder and an overwhelming sense of loving this beautiful Earth with its thin blanket of an atmosphere that allows us to experience rainbows. 

On Sunday night, I snuggled into bed and read heartily the essays on the atmosphere, bubbles and rainbows from the book: The Miraculous from the Material – Understanding the Wonders of Nature – By Alan Lightman.

That seemed like a marvelous way to say goodbye to the rainy week-end. How was your week-end?

The Self-Selection of Stillness

Washington D C in Spring

It was one of those weeks when life was traveling fast. The night had barely slipped on its night gown, when dawn was pinkening it again with haste. The traffic was zipping with haste, the lines to the museum opening were moving fast. Things were happening. And they kept happening through the day.

We were in Washington D C – traveling on spring break.

Things are happening all the time everywhere – but especially so in the nation’s capital, I think. The hotel we stayed in was hosting hundreds of soldiers from the National Coast Guard. The areas near the Capitol building and the Washington monument bustled with people with important tasks to do. Every one seemed to have an agenda: even the tourists. Visitors in national parks they have agendas too, but here in the capital, the agendas seemed more immediate. There were monuments to visit, museums to see, senate & house galleries to witness. Everyone bustled. I felt like I was in one of those time-lapse videos sometimes.

The Exhibit – “Ma! Come on!”

Put a few days like this together, and suddenly, you can appreciate why I found myself zoning out in front of the painting. I sat there, staring at it. Unmoving, beautiful, still. It truly was a work of art. We had finally washed up at the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC – after zip-zipping through the Holocaust museum & the Smithsonian Museums: Natural History Museum, Air & Space Museum, American History Museum.

In one place, I sank down between 2 exhibits, and felt a light doze coming on. It was in the American Modern Culture section of the American History Museum. Folks pointed at me and said, “Ah look at this exhibit! The modern day parent – exhausted but present.” I didn’t move.

The Calm & The Storm

When finally the National Gallery of Art offered sofas in which to enjoy the paintings, I took full advantage of them. At one painting, I sat and stared. The stillness of the painting made it seem sublime, the swirling waters of the seas strangely soothing. Can sublime be used to describe a stormy painting? Just as I caught my thoughts begin to meander, I saw it. I did not think it was possible for this to happen. Can art make one hallucinate? After a few moments, I saw the clouds in the painting brighten like lightning rippled through them.

Painting by William Trost Richards in the National Gallery of Art

I sat up. Alert once more. And stared. Then again, it happened. The clouds darkened. I peered around the painting to see if there were any hidden panel lighting fixtures – there were none.

I beckoned the son, and had him observe the painting. “Did you see that?”

“Yes!” His face shone.

“So I wasn’t hallucinating!”

“Nope – it really did brighten.”

After observing another minute or so, he peered up, and said, “Maybe it is the effect of the skylight above!”

I agreed. Must be. Though it felt like magic. But then, a little nagging voice told me we were on the second floor of a building that had 4 floors. So, it could not have been the sun itself – maybe the artificial lighting that gave the impression of a skylight behind the panels had flickered.

Who knew?

Relishing the Stillness

The only thing I did know was how much I relished the quiet, stillness of the paintings in the gallery. Our entertainment options have become swifter: I need to convince children to watch an episode of a sitcom these days. They don’t have the patience to sit through a 20 minute program when they could have reeled and scrolled past 20 different snippets in that time, while checking their chat, keeping an eye on their video games, and looking into that assignment due.

From movies to episodes to YouTube videos to Shorts & reels: everything has become faster. The serenity of a still painting seems dead and dull in comparison.

In truth, it felt like bliss.

Maybe that is the new self-selection evolution. Those who can sit with nothing, will finally be the ones to create something.

“The museum closes in 15 minutes” – I heard the harried announcement ripple through the quiet stillness of the gallery. Quiet or not. Still or not. Time moves on. I sighed and pleaded with  my tired feet to move again. I could sit still on the pavement outside for 3 minutes while I watched the traffic and waited for my ride home, no?

Read Across America: Honoring Dr. Seuss

“Oh no! I missed Dr Seuss’s birthday!” I wailed.

The husband said “Who?” In that befuddled manner he gets when it comes to reading. The son said, “Oh no! How did that happen?” He understood.

One of the many brilliant things about raising children in a country and culture other than the one you were raised in is this. You get to read new books, be baffled about why something was iconic, and discover the joys of it all anew (like Star Wars for us).

Dr Seuss, Thomas the Train, Curious George, Dora the Explorer, and so many fantastic characters enabled me to become a wide-eyed child reading along with them over the past two decades, and I am immensely grateful to that.

Somewhere along the way, the children told me that Read Across America week was the week it was Dr Seuss’s birthday. Oh! How I loved that? What a legacy to leave? To have a Read-Across-America week dedicated to the week of your birthday.

So, in my somewhat scatter-brained fashion, I had planned to read and write about several of his books in the lead up to the week. But I had forgotten in the chariots of time, and let’s face it, in the gloriousness of spring. I can see Theodore Geisel (Dr Seuss is his nickname) shaking his head in amusement at this, and probably pencilling it down a for a future hilarious Dr Seuss book somewhere.

The books I did read were just as charming and insightful as usual.

Yertle The Turtle & Other Stories – By Dr Seuss

The story is about Yertle the Turtle who is the king of turtles in his pond. He is liked enough to be left alone, and do turtlish things and go about the days of his life with peace and contentment. But does he do that?

No!

One day, he gets it into this head that what he wants is to extend his rule. So, he calls on the turtles nearby, and has them scramble on each other, and he scrambles right on top of them all. From that vantage point, he claims he is the king of all he can see.

In typical Dr Seuss form, Yertle is never happy, and goes on piling turtles on top of each other
till. Well – you’ll just have to read and find out, wouldn’t you?

This story is such an apt one to read in the current geopolitical climate. All our great leaders busy scrambling on turtle’s backs, and launching missiles. Sigh.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yertle_the_Turtle_and_Other_Stories

Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17391831

Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are – By Dr Seuss

This book is priceless. I read it every now and then especially when I am really feeling low, and somewhat antsy about the state of the world. It is good to remind yourself that you didn’t get stuck in the traffic jam of Zayt Highway 8 in Ga-Zayt, or that you weren’t one of the builders of Bunglebung bridge.

By It is believed that the cover art can or could be obtained from Random House., Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44085819

But mostly, it is a simple tale that will have you wondering just a little bit about all the little ways in which you are lucky, even if it doesn’t seem like it. The next morning, the sound of bird-song as you make your way to your car sounds sweeter.

Horse Museum – By Dr Seuss

This book has been on my list of books to write about for a long time. I think I shall attempt a separate piece for this book for it is fascinating in a way that is different from all his other books in a specific way.

The book shows you all the different ways in which horses can be drawn in the Horse Museum. Of course, the horses are hilarious and his narrative sparkles.

This cover image released by Random House Children’s Books shows “Dr. Seuss’s Horse Museum,” a new book by the late children’s author, coming Sept. 3. (Random House Children’s Books via AP)

By dr-seuss-horse-museum.jpg at Time CDN, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=60107701

But more than any of this, he lists all the famous paintings of horses that inspired his tale. A journey through cubism, realism etc. From Picasso to Jackson Pollock.

So, even if I didn’t quite to get to write about Dr Seuss’s books in time for Read-Across-America week, I still got to read and relish them.

I don’t think he’d mind if we read them now, next week, or next month, do you? So, please feel free to pick them up, and share your own books you’d like to read for Read-Across-America month.