Frozen!
I love this song by Madonna; can almost hear it in my mind right now! Add to it, beautiful camera work for the video with the long black dress, the ravens, the mehendi and Madonna twisting her hands in front of the screen. Here go the lyrics -
Verse:
You only see what your eyes want to see
How can life be what you want it to be
Youre frozen
When your hearts not open
Youre so consumed with how much you get
You waste your time with hate and regret
Youre broken
When your hearts not open
Chorus:
Mmmmmm, if I could melt your heart
Mmmmmm, wed never be apart
Mmmmmm, give yourself to me
Mmmmmm, you hold the key
Now theres no point in placing the blame
And you should know I suffer the same
If I lose you
My heart will be broken
Love is a bird, she needs to fly
Let all the hurt inside of you die
Youre frozen
When your hearts not open
(chorus)
(verse)
(chorus, repeat)
If I could melt your heart ...
Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com
Operation Blue Star and the Golden Temple
I just finished reading Indira Gandhi's biography (Indira) by Katherine Frank. It was heart-wrenching to read about Operation Blue Star (the army attack on Golden Temple) executed on June 6, 1984. Eventually it led to Indira Gandhi's assasination by her Sikh bodyguards, later that year. I could not imagine this serene place pounded by bullets (doesn't it look beautiful); Wikipedia has a picture after the operation. Follow this
link to Wikipedia for more information on Operation Bluestar.
Here's hoping that the peace of the temple stays intact, and (on a personal note) we get to visit Amritsar some time.
References:
www.spiritofmaat.com
Wikipedia
Golden Sundays
It has been a while since the last time I blog’ed. This morning, I was reminded of our Sunday’s in childhood. Thought I would write about that.
My brother Sid and I would get up to the sound of ‘Rangoli’, hosted by Hema Malini at that time. Great program that! My mom, dad and grandparents would get to see songs from that ‘jamana (time)’, and by the time me and my brother brushed and got ready for breakfast, new songs would come up. Mom would serve us sizzling scrambled eggs with fresh pepper and bread or an omelet and bread, with milk or tea. Sid and I would then fight (dad included, sometimes) for the news paper. Thankfully TOI had a main news paper and a supplement, thus satisfying two people at a time.
Nine or ten would be time for Mahabharat. If we had not had an early breakfast, we would have sweet corn soup or a home-made snack at that time. Then laze around and read until it was time for the ‘bai’ (servant maid)’ to come for house work. Dad or grandmother would often pressurize me and Sid to perform our daily ablution ASAP; both of us trying our level best to push it off, as further as possible. At about twelve, we would set the table and have a meal together; again watch ‘Chayageet’. Those were the times when watching film songs on television, was a timed event, something to look forward to, and not the annoyance it is right now.
I would get to my reading after lunch, sleep next to my grandmother, tell her stories from school/college and soon doze off to a wonderful nap. Once in a while, my dad and I would contend for the same fiction novel on those Sunday afternoons. (We usually read a book in parallel, and Sunday afternoon was the time when our reading times would clash.). Sometimes mom would read me an article from the Marathi newspaper. In the meantime my grandfather would watch the regional films on Doordarshan. He would give us an overview of the story, when we woke up, just in time to catch the climax.
Sid and I were permitted to have tea on Sunday afternoons. A little bit of Marathi movie watching would follow and then I would meet up with my apartment/colony friends in the evening. Long walks (and talks) would follow, along with nariyal-pani (coconut water) to replenish our parched throats. Mom and dad would have their own peaceful evening on Juhu beach and the Hare-Ram Hare-Krishna temple. When we were much younger, Sid and I would accompany our parents and play on the beach (Giant Robot version of pakda-pakdi (catch me if you can) where the catcher would be buried in the sand and could come up only after he/she heard “Giant Robot Come On”); probably the only time in the week when were not at war with each other.
At night, I would chat with my grandfather, uninterrupted; mom, dad and Sid would be away and my grandmother would be reading her stotras and mantras. He is the most wonderful person I have met in my lifetime. I miss the time I used to spend with him! The day would end with dinner and ‘Superhit Muqabala’.
Some Sundays were different. My parents and Sid and I used to go to the Gateway of India, Jahangir Art gallery or Hanging Garden and Taraporewala aquarium or the Nehru Science center or watch a movie at Regal or Eros; or spend the whole Sunday watching a cricket match. It used to be fun!
I keep telling Brat that we should have been children forever. But then I would have never met him, right? For now, I will try to be satisfied with my attempts to recreate the Sunday magic with scrambled eggs and bread, and long walks in the evening.
