Tagore understood how our mind thinks and feels.
His lyrics explain how we feel when,
we leave our beloved town, city or country.
This song is based on our feelings.
You ask your mind this question :
Do you know who you left behind ?
This is why you didn’t
get peace all your life.
You have forgotten
the path you took to leave,
How will you return
to the place you left?
You listen to the sound
of the river. Your heart trembles
when you hear the rustling of leaves
You feel you will find the path
If you can understand
the language of flowers.
The path that leads to the
evening star, oh my mind!
Gratitude is the best attitude— author unknown
A single thoughtful thought towards heaven is the most perfect of all prayers.—-Gotthold Ephraim Lessing(1729_ 1781)
Joy is the most infallible test of the presence of God. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881 1955)
…. the more generously I give of my life,
the more it surges forth.
It is inexhaustible. ___ Rabindranath Tagore (1861_ 1941)
I always prefer to believe the best of everybody_
it saves so much trouble.— Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936)
Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned,
worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience
of living every minute with love, grace,
আমি কান পেতে রই ও আমার আপন হৃদয়গহন-দ্বারে বারে বারে কোন্ গোপনবাসীর কান্নাহাসির গোপন কথা শুনিবারে-- বারে বারে ॥ ভ্রমর সেথা হয় বিবাগি নিভৃত নীল পদ্ম লাগি রে, কোন্ রাতের পাখি গায় একাকী সঙ্গীবিহীন অন্ধকারে বারে বারে ॥ কে সে মোর কেই বা জানে, কিছু তার দেখি আভা। কিছু পাই অনুমানে, কিছু তার বুঝি না বা। মাঝে মাঝে তার বারতা আমার ভাষায় পায় কি কথা রে, ও সে আমায় জানি পাঠায় বাণী গানের তানে লুকিয়ে তারে বারে বারে ॥ Again and again I lend my ear To hear someone's secret laughter and sobs, It's where the humble bumblebee hides inside the lotus flower. Where some night bird sings alone in the dark. Who knows how I am related to this voice, I see part of her glow, partly by guessing, Occasionally I try, To understand her message, Which secretly comes to me , in the form of a musical note! ............................:)
January 2nd 2017
Enjoy Tagore’s Song, y’all ………………………………………:) 🙂 🙂
In response to daily post’s prompt : Pungent
The above plant is asafoetida. In its pure form its smell is very strong. It has a pungent smell, which contaminates other spices if it’s not stored in an airtight container.When it’s heated in oil or ghee its pungency is less.
Buddhist and non-vegetarians avoid it because of its pungency.
It is known by many unpleasant names, in French it is known as,’merde du diable meaning devil’s faces, in English it’s sometimes called, ‘Devil’s dung.’
I’ve heard it’s one of the spices used in lieu of garlic. I’d much rather use garlic than asafoetida because its strong odor stays for days in the kitchen and the hallway.
In response to WordPress daily post’s Prompt : Liminal
After reviewing the various synonyms of liminal, I came to the conclusion that liminal frontier of experience is probably the best synonym I can try to write about.
One of the meanings tells us liminal frontier of experience is a potent threshold of a personal transformation in which our survival and ongoing quality of life is fully dependent upon our capacity for creative adaptation.
The experience I had after I got married fits one of the meanings of the word, i.e, “A liminal frontier of experience.”
Mine was an arranged marriage I didn’t know my husband or his other siblings and his parents. I saw them after I was married.
My husband left to go to Montreal, less than two weeks after our wedding. He told me he’d like me to stay with his parents at least for six months in their village home. I agreed. I went to their village with my in-laws.
The only mode of transportation to get to the village was by a rowboat. I’d never traveled anywhere in a rowboat, so it was quite a frightening experience for me. When I reached my in-law’s home, there were people coming in droves to see me the(new bride).
I had no privacy the people of the village came and went as they pleased. I was worried I didn’t expect all this, still I put up a brave and friendly face.
Days and weeks were passing by, I had nothing to do, before all this I was teaching in a school in Dhaka Cantonment. I was told to quit my job, because I’d have to stay with my in-laws in the village.
I had nothing in common with them except the language, my parents were from Bangladesh as were my in-laws.
I grew up in a city away from Bangladesh where Punjabi and Urdu were spoken by all our neighbors, including the shopkeepers etc.
I studied in a convent, my Dad thought it was the best school in the city.This is a bit about my background.
I felt the time in the village was long, there was not a soul I could talk to. I did my best to get used to the situation I was in.
I tried several times to help my mother-in -law in the kitchen, she refused to let me help her, she thought the kitchen was too small and they used to burn wood which created a lot of smoke, she told me to go to the main house and relax.
One afternoon after the table was set for lunch, someone asked me to serve the food to everyone. I was about to get up when my mother-in-law said to me, ‘no no you sit down.’
She asked someone else to serve the food, I sat down, suddenly one of their maids said, ‘The bride can’t even serve the cooked food?’
I was surprised and angry when I heard that. I stayed quiet took it all in and waited for the day I’d be able to tell my husband, ‘You have some ill-mannered maids where did you get them from?’
I did that long after this incident, my husband smiled and said,’She’s been with us for years, we treat her as a relative.’
I had to make a lot of adjustments making sure, they’d have nothing to complain about me.
Whether I was successful in my new role of a village housewife is hard to know. I can only say I kept my temper in check!
Day eighteen : compose a series of anecdotes
One day in college, my classmate Hasina said, ‘Chaman, let’s go out to see a movie in Gulistan Cinema Hall.’
I asked, ‘who else is going?’
She named two other girls who lived in the college residence as well. Though delighted I asked, ‘Did you get permission from Sister Joseph Mary?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘and my aunt will be our chaperone.’
To get permission to go to a movie we were required to have a chaperone.
Next day we got ready, it was a matinee show, so Sister had no objection.Ten minutes before we got out Hasina’s aunt sent a message, which said she was sorry she couldn’t go with us. I knew without a chaperone Sr. Joseph Mary would not allow us to go. Hasina suggested we should go anyway that we shouldn’t tell the teacher.
Now in our group of four there was another Hasina whom I’ll call Hasina #2.
We settled it among ourselves we won’t mention we went without a chaperone. It was a hot sunny day, we walked out of our college to get two rickshaws. A gentleman out of nowhere, introduced himself as God knows who he said. He offered to give us a ride to wherever we were going. When one of us told him we were going to the movies, he said he was going somewhere near where the movie hall was.
I told him, ‘Sorry we’ll take a rickshaw,’ I thanked him for his generosity.
The girls were annoyed with me because I declined the offer. I told them he was a stranger, I didn’t see his car, it was risky, because he probably was a kidnapper. In my opinion it was better to get sunburn than to agree to go with a guy we did not know.
It took us a while to get transportation at 2 pm, as if the whole city was taking a catnap.We managed to get an auto-rickshaw for the four of us. We didn’t have any problem, we reached the movie hall and bought our tickets.
We hired another auto-rickshaw on our way back to the college. Everything was going smooth, to our surprise Sister Joseph Mary summoned us one at a time, except Hasina #2.We wondered why but our curiosity was cleared by #2 who claimed she was shaking and crying when she saw Sister Joseph Mary, she had to tell her the truth.
As far as we were concerned Sister Joseph Mary was unhappy with us for not telling her.
Hasina #2 wanted to be the center of attention, how could she miss the chance of hearing our teacher say she was conscientious and we were liars.
Evie my friend and classmate was furious with #2, to her she appeared like a snake in the grass. And if she was that saintly, she should have stayed back. We did ask her if it was okay that we were going without a chaperone, ‘oh yes,’ she said, ‘I’m determined to watch a movie today.’
After Evie who incidentally did not go with us told #2 off, she(#2) went back to the teacher and shed her crocodile tears again. This time all thirty two of us were summoned to a meeting. Sister Joseph Mary was livid!
Day Fifteen : Take a cue from your reader
I couldn’t use anything from the reader therefore I chose:
A Challenging Journey
It was the month of December, suddenly my husband decided to take a trip to his village to see his parents. We were living in Gander in those days. He called, “Air Canada,” and asked the guy at the ticket counter, to make reservation for his family to fly to Dhaka, Bangladesh, it was for him and me and our little seven month old baby. The gentleman told him because of the Christmas rush there were no seats available. He assured him he’d do the best he can.
A week later we got a call by the same gentleman, that there were some cancellations and if my husband was interested he can make reservation for us.
My husband was glad he’d get the opportunity to show the grandparents our baby. Our flight was in the evening, we got ready, took the necessary food for the baby, then we were on our way to the airport.
At the airport building my husband told me to wait in the lounge, while he went to the shop to buy some lotion for his dad. He paid for two bottles, one slipped from his hand and broke. Immediately my husband a very superstitious man thought it was a bad omen.
He came to me and said, ‘I dropped one of the bottles of lotion and it broke, I think something bad has happened!’
I said, ‘it’s an accident don’t worry everything will be okay.’
We reached Heathrow airport in London, England, everything was fine, our onward journey was by Pakistan International Airlines, the flight was supposed to go to Paris and then to Karachi.
A few minutes after our arrival, there was an announcement that the flight would be delayed by an hour because of thick fog at Charles de Gaulle airport.
We waited in the lounge, an hour later there was another announcement that the fog hadn’t cleared, the flight was further delayed by another hour. This continued for seven hours, finally the airlines decided to skip Paris and fly directly to Karachi.
In Karachi I spoke to one of the gatekeepers, he said he doubts we’d be able to go to Dhaka that day and we might have to stay overnight in Karachi. Moments later the guy came back and told me there was good news we’d be able to fly to Dhaka the same day and it was time to board the plane.
We were happy we’d reach Dhaka on the same day. When we landed in Dhaka my brother-in-law asked, ‘Did you get my telegram?’
I said, ‘No why?’
He stayed quiet, from Dhaka we took the ferry part of the journey, and then a boat to the village. While on the boat my husband asked, ‘How is dad, why didn’t he come to receive us?’
My brother-in-law said, ‘He has a cold I told him to stay home.’
I felt something wasn’t right, but kept quiet. When the boat was about to dock, my sister-in-law who was unable to hold the news any longer burst out crying, apparently my father-in-law died of a massive heart attack a week before our arrival!