tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241131972024-03-13T07:42:33.123+05:30ambrosia“Heyyyyyy I have invented something really yummy! Make it now and tell me what you think!!” That was *MD’s opening line from the other end ofUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-84876205409146898082009-09-17T22:04:00.019+05:302009-09-18T05:09:53.616+05:30Mutthu dear<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>The homecoming</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In the afternoon of this day last week, as I sat at my desk scripting a course in geriatrics, I was suddenly jolted by the cries of what sounded like an animal in distress. I rushed to the window to find out was going on.... and there I saw a little brown pup with a black snout under my window, across the street, sitting on a patch of grass, looking up at the sky and howling! Without wasting any time in thought, I made a dash for the stairs. By the time I had run down three flights of stairs, the pup was no longer where I had seen it from my window. I went up and down the street looking everywhere—even under the bricks and stones. I was about to give up when suddenly I spotted the brown thing again at an adjacent construction site precariously standing amongst heavy machinery and deafening noise and laborers busy at work. It was hungrily lapping up water from a stagnant muddy puddle. I asked the men whether it belonged to them and they said no. I did not need any further confirmation. That was enough for me to pick up the pup and bring it home.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrvSEeV_OL4ifz4Q9FzVrYWaxvU9IKlej2qbbNRixt1cTro1Vi7-_Fr6aMOeZY5rWtRoezxPEZZD_uqp0a8K_alueGMTQu2l8IBAy7kfx1EWh45gflOCOzxvSzi4KsVfnPiqRVQ/s1600-h/IMG_1165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrvSEeV_OL4ifz4Q9FzVrYWaxvU9IKlej2qbbNRixt1cTro1Vi7-_Fr6aMOeZY5rWtRoezxPEZZD_uqp0a8K_alueGMTQu2l8IBAy7kfx1EWh45gflOCOzxvSzi4KsVfnPiqRVQ/s200/IMG_1165.JPG" /></a><br />
“You seem to be a fine little puppy,” I said to the pup as I placed it on my balcony in answer to its vigorously wagging tail. To which it wagged its tail some more. I put some water before it and it seemed to drink endless quantities! I crushed some biscuits and offered it and the biscuits vanished within no time. Not for a moment did it stop wagging its little tail. That is how crazy a little pup can get! “Cleaning time”, I announced and puppy seemed to understand and did not resist much as I sponged its little body with dettol and water. It had a soft mane, like it would melt in my palms....<br />
<br />
<b>Where did puppy come from?</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With cleaning done and puppy fed, I made a little bed for it to rest. As it rested, I thought for the first time since I went to the window to investigate who the howls belonged to. I have never seen a pup in my area before. Of all the localities, the locality where I live is one of the few perhaps where the BBMP (the municipal body of Bangalore) has done a good job with their dog neutering programme. I can say with certainty that all dogs in this locality are neutered. By that logic, puppy couldn’t have been born in this area. Also, it was all alone; there was no sign of any other pup or its mother. I was certain it had been “dumped” by somebody from some other locality. Interestingly, puppy had a small red “tika” on its forehead prompting me to think that whoever dumped it did not have bad intentions afterall. The person had perhaps made an invocation to Mother Nature to do the best for the pup. To this day I recall with amusement and wonder at how little pup, from among the numerous houses lined on the street, chose to howl under <i>my</i> house. And I shall always be grateful for this opportunity.<br />
<br />
<b>The next steps</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadCqh2XEXoEGxFgF9ceidkQxSTzbQIfQLFfNgVzfQt3e1TDr-3QdHI398KR410E3XnKLFtVZLpqaE1zxzsD9MdHYnmFR-QBLSFPj7LS3sK9pqE-XQ5v91PJVF-bmdDXX7eSyUDA/s1600-h/IMG_1187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadCqh2XEXoEGxFgF9ceidkQxSTzbQIfQLFfNgVzfQt3e1TDr-3QdHI398KR410E3XnKLFtVZLpqaE1zxzsD9MdHYnmFR-QBLSFPj7LS3sK9pqE-XQ5v91PJVF-bmdDXX7eSyUDA/s200/IMG_1187.JPG" /></a></div>Then, I dialed Achala. As I spoke to her, I could see little pup’s steady gaze on me and wondered what it was thinking. I felt a little foolish discussing pup with it being within earshot but my human instincts told me to go on, “It’s a pup afterall!” Nevertheless, I felt foolish. Achala advised me to organize a general health check-up for puppy. Also, she was holding another puppy adoption camp two days hence, so I had an opportunity to take puppy there and find it a good home. I must state at this point that it is against my personal policy to put up any animal that I rescue for adoption because I believe I too can provide animals all that they require to live comfortably and happily. BUT, at this point the circumstances of my life are such that I may be able to provide them, love, affection, food, and water, however I will not be able to guarantee them freedom to the degree they require. There is very little freedom for them in the current apartment house that I am staying at—there is no garden, nor a lawn. Besides, it is against the law to lock up any animal in a closed apartment for extended periods of time. With me away in office during the day time, locking an animal for 10 hours in a closed apartment with no escape route in case of an emergency is an abject crime.<br />
<br />
<b>The first night</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Little pup, I soon discovered was a very happy-go-lucky thing, always ready to play, jump, hop, and wag its little tail. It had a gigantic appetite and I was scared that its stomach would burst from all the eating. It would follow me everywhere in the house, never losing sight of me. I never saw it walking, it always ran and as it did, stumbled, got up, and ran again. As I cooked, it sat watching my every move. It cried when I went from one room to the other as though to say “Why you leaving me!” I could understand its insecurity which perhaps came from the events in its little past. But very, very interestingly, it never cried when I went to the bathroom and locked the door behind me! It just sat outside patiently waiting for me to come out. “Gosh who sent you with all that intelligence, you are not even one foot high!”, I thought.<br />
<br />
Suddenly late in the night it started crying loudly. “You have everything that you need, why you crying now, especially at this hour when little puppies should be fast asleep!”, I admonished little puppy. In answer puppy yelped louder! I thought perhaps it is remembering its mother and the life it had left behind and needed to clam down. So I promptly put on Reiki music. I have read that animals and plants are wonderfully receptive to Reiki energies and soft, soothing music. Lo and behold, that did it! Pup steadily calmed down, directed its little ears towards the direction of the speakers, closed its eyes, and was soon fast asleep. The following day I got more clues as to why pup was feeling restless.<br />
<br />
<b>The health check-up and a general health note</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The following morning my door bell rang at 7:30 am and there stood a smiling Dr. Srinivasan, our good "flying" animal doctor with his mobile medical van. He had arrived to conduct a health check-up for puppy. Puppy was game to any kind of fuss around him; he consented without a protest to all sorts of examinations. Finally, Doctor pulled puppy’s eyes wide and declared, “Very, very healthy puppy, very friendly.” From some symptoms I described to him, Doctor administered a solution for diarrhea and de-worming.<br />
<br />
For the information of anyone who rescues pups, it is important to be aware of the other side of the coin: the health angle. Most pups born on the streets get stomach infection through their mother’s milk (because the mother may not be getting the best of food) or if the mother is not around to nurse them, then through the garbage and rotten food the pups may be consuming. This results in the following two conditions that may exist simultaneously: diarrhea and worms. Mother Nature is so wise and thoughtful that even little pups have a high threshold for tolerating adverse conditions and can continue to be active despite diarrhea and the presence of worms. It is only after a certain point that these conditions become life-threatening. My pup visibly had loose motions with specks of blood—confirming that it was carrying worms. Doctor’s medicines worked very quickly—within a day diarrhea was cured and so did all the parasites clear from its stomach. “Poor little puppy” I thought, “Carrying all those living organisms in your stomach must have been quite demanding.” After the worms cleared, little puppy did not eat anything much for almost a day—as there were no worms making demands for food! I also understood why it may be crying all of a sudden the previous night. It could be because of the tormenting worms.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><b>How puppy got his name</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">One of these days, my good friend Vj living nearby came to meet little puppy. In the first few minutes of the meeting little puppy got his name: Mutthu! At first I thought the name was too regional but then gave in to my friend’s rationale that Mutthu is born on the soil of south India, afterall. Over and above that, little Mutthu seemed to like his name and started to respond on call! From the second day onwards, little Mutthu started to get independent. He no longer frantically followed me; I guess he sensed I was here to stay. He also started to display his naughty side—trying to bite off the wires of my computer, extension chords, and mobile charger! He did not spare my friend’s fingers either! Little Mutthu was teething. So, all this biting was normal. On the night of the second day, he suddenly started to cry again. “Now that your worms have gone, what are you crying for!” <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAMZye2ceyhxSxyTgdYFNSRdOtzO0xf85f_wrIgJ2EqA0YpazSAd288Eg7FlWZVzzgSc5LXtM6PMm7r-ETDSAIiqevyur9sJCabt8aQGrK-a3p9y8zwA_EAKrSOuZfC3k5zoHbQ/s1600-h/IMG_1226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAMZye2ceyhxSxyTgdYFNSRdOtzO0xf85f_wrIgJ2EqA0YpazSAd288Eg7FlWZVzzgSc5LXtM6PMm7r-ETDSAIiqevyur9sJCabt8aQGrK-a3p9y8zwA_EAKrSOuZfC3k5zoHbQ/s200/IMG_1226.JPG" /></a></div>This time, he demonstrated a peculiar style of crying. He held on to the contours of my chair with his two little front paws as he cried. I had to rake my head to understand what that meant. I lifted him and placed him on the cushioned chair. Mutthu gave me a satisfied look and promptly went into a deep sleep! And for the next one and a half days Mutthu stayed with me, he never slept on the bed I had made for him on the floor. He always slept on the cushioned chair and each time I sat on the chair that was now “his”, he made it a point to whine and get him lifted onto it! I just wondered what naughtiness lay in store when within a few weeks he will be capable of jumping on the chair himself!<br />
<br />
<b>The adoption</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Thirteenth of September arrived very fast. It was the day of the adoption camp. That day I found two distinct personalities within me. One of them was dressing herself up and getting Mutthu ready to take to the camp and the other was hoping that something untoward would happen and the camp would get canceled. Not necessarily, but anything that would make Mutthu stay with her. MD wrote that I should keep Mutthu but she doesn’t understand the “freedom” part of the deal of keeping a pet that I tried to explain at the beginning of this post. As I sat holding Mutthu in the auto rixa, with every kilometer covered, one part of me badly wanted to turn back; it even cooked a story to tell everybody of how the camp had been a disaster. But then the other part said, “Do you have the right to make a sprightly animal a prisoner in your little apartment?” Mutthu raised his head to look at me from time to time. I don’t even what to guess what he may be thinking. With the two personalities squabbling amongst eachother, we finally reached the camp traveling almost 30 kilometers.<br />
<br />
All the volunteers welcomed Mutthu with warm hugs. Gradually, the pups started arriving. There were many media photographers as well as amateur ones. There was the local TV channel too. We had to tell the photographers not to flash on the eyes of the pups too much. They wanted endless poses! Mutthu was quite disturbed by the din of the place, therefore either me or some volunteer had to constantly carry him so that he would not run away through the gaps in the tent. I discovered that unlike Mutthu, the other pups were quietly sleeping in their baskets. I wondered that he must really be a free soul and I prayed that he gets a home with lots of space to play in!<br />
<br />
The camp started at 10 am and until 4 pm Mutthu hadn’t got adopted. One part of me rejoiced, while the other was concerned. I had refused Mutthu to two families already because they just did not give me the “right vibes”. I am glad that I did. I had made up my mind that I am going to keep refusing him to anyone who does not give me the proper vibes. Then, around 4 pm a lady walked in with her three kids, gave one glance at the pups and put her hands on Mutthu and another pup and said, “I want to adopt two puppies!”. It all happened very quickly. I had no time to refuse; worst, I had no reasons to refuse. The lady was extremely decisive; unlike others, she did not spend hours comparing the pups, her eyes were honest and kind and what’s more the family was vegetarian! I had always wanted Mutthu to go to a vegetarian home and learn to appreciate fresh fruits and vegetables. And this is not all; the family lived in rural Bangalore in a spacious house with acres of land around the house.<br />
<br />
Very soon we were in a room completing the adoption formalities. The volunteers were recording Mutthu’s details and those of the other pup and explaining to the lady the terms and conditions of the adoption. Mutthu received his shots for rabies and distemper from the camp doctor and the other pup received his too. And the next thing I saw was the family carrying both the pups and walking away.<br />
<br />
<b>The story does not end here</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Despite everything, I still felt that I had abandoned little Mutthu. My good friend G from France who has four animals in her farm, out of which two are rescued, tried her best to comfort me and convince me that I did not abandon Mutthu but had acted in his best interests. While I know this is true, the part of me that kept suggesting me to turn away from the camp had gone ballistic with grief. The only way to calm it was to keep in touch with the family and take Mutthu’s updates. And in any case, part of the terms and conditions is that the family has to agree to follow-ups. Mutthu’s new family readily agreed, in fact they were more than welcoming! That was again a positive sign. A day after the camp, I called them up to ask how the pups were doing. “Mutthu is running around in the garden and playing with us and the other pup is sleeping,” they said. Incidentally I had told them Mutthu’s name and added that if they so do wish to, they can change it. I was elated when they said they liked the name and wished to continue with it. “We are having a namkaran (name giving ceremony) for the other pup after two weeks, can you come?” they asked me. “Of course I will be there!”, I said. After some general chit-chat about puppy care and how clever and intelligent Mutthu is, we hung up.<br />
<br />
<b>Peace!</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I was at peace at last. I got a thumbs up from the part of me that had tried encouraging me to scoot from the camp with Mutthu and what a relief its approval brought to me! This does not mean I do not miss Mutthu, I still do. I still gaze at the spot I had first seen him from my window and in my mind’s eye I can see him squatting there and howling....</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-58140397105231192482009-09-10T02:18:00.006+05:302009-09-10T03:05:00.241+05:30Won’t you let me in....<span><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A</span></span>fter my post on a successful puppy adoption camp in the city of Bangalore which I reported about <a href="http://ambrosia-am.blogspot.com/2009/08/beautiful-day.html">here</a>, I think I owe it to my blog to record why a bunch of think that non-pedigr</span><span>ee pups should be adopted. Btw, just FYI, Let’s Live Together has organized another puppy adoption camp on the 13th of September in its office premises</span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAMRITA%7E1.DUT%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAMRITA%7E1.DUT%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAMRITA%7E1.DUT%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:splitpgbreakandparamark/> <w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/> <w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> <w:word11kerningpairs/> <w:cachedcolbalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathpr> <m:mathfont val="Cambria Math"> <m:brkbin val="before"> <m:brkbinsub val="--"> <m:smallfrac val="off"> <m:dispdef/> <m:lmargin val="0"> <m:rmargin val="0"> <m:defjc val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent val="1440"> <m:intlim val="subSup"> <m:narylim val="undOvr"> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" defunhidewhenused="true" defsemihidden="true" defqformat="false" defpriority="99" latentstylecount="267"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="0" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Normal"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="heading 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 7"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 8"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 9"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 7"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 8"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 9"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="35" qformat="true" name="caption"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="10" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" name="Default Paragraph Font"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="11" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtitle"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="22" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Strong"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="20" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Emphasis"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="59" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Table Grid"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Placeholder Text"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="No Spacing"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Revision"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="34" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="List Paragraph"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="29" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Quote"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="30" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Quote"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="19" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Emphasis"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="21" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Emphasis"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="31" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Reference"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1107304683 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-size:10.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" >—</span><span>through which 40 Indian pups will get adopted. Anybody interested can go <a href="http://letslivetogether.wordpress.com/">their website</a> to check more.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">S</span></span>ome news never make it in the daily newspapers. Sample these:</span>
<br />
<br /><span><blockquote>Street Pup Hit By Vehicle, Spinal Injury Sustained, Paralyzed For Life.
<br />Paralyzed Pomerian Pup Found On The Roads, Family Suspected Of Abandonment
<br />Street Pup Found With Throat Slit, 50-Year Old Man Held For Stoning
<br />Old Doberman Found Abandoned In The Streets
<br />Sick Lhasa Apso Found Abandoned On The Steets Eating Garbage
<br />Starving Street Dog Moved To Shelter By An Animal Rights Volunteer
<br />Great Dane With Elephant Chain On Neck Rescued
<br />Female Doberman Dumped Over Vashi Center Wall
<br />Four-day Old Indi Pups Tied Inside Gunny Bag And Throw Into The Sea</blockquote>
<br />Somewhere in my consciousness these headlines ring a frantic bell. It sounds all too familiar! Woman Burnt Alive For Not Bringing Dowry, A Sharp Rise in Female Fetus Abortions, Young Girl Publicly Lynched, Ten-year Old HIV Positive Boy Boycotted In School, Elderly Man</span><span> Forsaken By Family, Tries To Commit Suicide.... and many, many more.
<br />
<br />The similarity I find in both sets of headlines is that the victims of the crimes against them are decreed “unwanted”. Clearly, there is some dark force out there who is deciding that some creations of Nature are unwanted. But, how can a marvelous, bountiful, giving, earth not have enough space for the old, the infirm, the girl child, the pups, the kittens, and every other organism that is created here by different processes but with an identical higher goal—to live, love, and co-habit peacefully. Regrettably, most of us have forgotten the highest purpose of our</span><span> existence.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Y</span></span>ou will agree that pups born on the streets have no control over their birth. Had they the choice, we can be sure they would not have chosen to be born on earth and live in the constant fear of being squashed by motor vehicles, made prisoners inside gunny bags and left to die, and all of that. The “street” pups are born of dogs of two kinds—Pariah breed and Mongrels. Pariah breeds are pure breeds while Mongrels are mixed. Both these kinds of dogs form the vast </span><span>majority of the stray dog population in India. They are called “strays” because they are born on the streets and live on the streets too. By this logic, an abandoned pedigree dog living on the street is also a “stray”. I learnt these basics from <a href="http://indianpariahdog.blogspot.com/">Rajashree’s blog</a>, an ardent animal lover. Since in this article I mean to write why the Pariah breed and Mongrels should be adopted, for all practical purposes I will refer to them as “Indian” dogs.
<br />
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Indian pups need a home because the rapid “growth” of the country has made them vulnerable on the streets—Reason No.1</span></span><span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">T</span></span>here are many dog lovers in the country who like to keep dogs as a member of their family. The prevalent practice is to adopt “pedigree” dogs or in other words foreign breeds with a recorded line of descent. If the motive is to give and share love and affection with an animal as a member of the family, then Indian dogs are as capable of giving and sharing love as any other dog from any part of the globe. The website of the Blue Cross of India, Chennai describes Indian</span><span> dogs thus:
<br />
<br /><blockquote>They have—“The intelligence of a Poodle and the loyalty of a Collie. The bark of a Shepherd and the heart of a Saint Bernard, the spots of a Dalmatian, size of a Schnauzer and the speed of a Greyhound.” </blockquote></span>
<br /><span>I would say even if Indian dogs did not sound such super duper champs, I would have </span><span>still</span><span> adored them. I know of a lady from France who came to Chennai to study dance and during her stay grew fond of an Indian street dog living near her apartment. She named the dog “Ooty”. Many a evening I would spot the white lady on her trendy bike being trailed by Ooty. They looked more like pals and less of a human and a dog. At times the lady would bend over to Ooty and say something to her and Ooty seemed to understand. It used to be a blessed sight. When the lady was about to leave India for France, she booked Ooty on the same flight with her. And that is the dream ending to this anecdote.
<br />
<br />We also have the very recent case (last month) of Hugo Boss—a four month old Indian pup who found a home in Canada after a Canadian couple adopted him. Hugo Boss was found in a very sad state by an animal lover—a lady—on the streets of Ahmedabad. The lady picked him up and </span><span>brought him home and later posted his details on the web for adoption. A Canadian couple responded and it was as if God spoke up for Hugo Boss that moment. Not only this, Hugo Boss's fantastic tale has become quite popular in the print media. The Times of India, Ahmedab</span><span>ad edition did several articles on Hugo Boss and I have the link to one article here:
<br />
<br /></span><span><a href="http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/NEWS/City/Ahmedabad/Ahmedabad-bids-Hugo-tearful-goodbye/articleshow/4947129.cms">Ahmedabad bids Hugo tearful goodbye</a></span>
<br /><span>
<br />In case you wish to see pictures, you may click <a href="http://indianpariahdog.blogspot.com/2009/09/hugos-incredible-journey.html">Hugo’s Incredible Journey</a> and <a href="http://indianpariahdog.blogspot.com/2009/09/friends-old-and-new.html">Friends old and New</a> from Rajashree again.
<br />
<br />Hmm, just wondering aloud and with lament, every time do we have to be told and </span><span>demonstrated by westerners how precious our own things are.
<br />
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Indian pups should be adopted because there is no difference between them and foreign breeds—Reason No.2</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span></span>f Indian pups are not adopted because of “prestige”, then I can only say that prestige is an illusion created by the limitations of the human mind. Related to the prestige issue is the third big reason for adopting Indian pups—organized professional breeding of foreign breeds. Professional breeders of pedigree dogs have unleashed the unethical practice of mass breeding. Female “breed” dogs are kept permanently pregnant throughout their reproductive lives. In many cases they are made pregnant by artificial means. Invariably these dogs live </span><span>in substandard conditions. Once the bitch is not bodily capable of bearing pups, she is literally thrown out and left on the streets. If you have seen old pedigree dogs roaming the streets and wondered who left them there, you have some clue about their ill-fated past.
<br /></span>
<br /><span>Of course many pedigree dogs are abandoned on the streets by their owners because either the dogs have grown old, or have a disease, or the owners have moved out, or simply because the owner does not want them anymore. Ah well, that’s another issue and I won’t go into it now. Last month, the Chandigarh government ordered dog owners to stop breeding their pets. The administration has also asked people not to buy and sell pets from each other. I do not know the intention behind this order but I hope it would be strictly followed. Professional breeders and dog trainers are already protesting against the order. It is not hard to imagine why. If it is </span><span>anything that drives these people to breed and train dogs, it is nothing but money. It is hardly a love for dogs. I know for a fact that that these people do not touch Indian dogs even with a bargepole.
<br /></span>
<br /><span>The crude impact of advertisements on the minds of people is another thing to deal with. The Hutch advertisement that uses the innocent Pug is responsible for the hectic breeding of Pugs and the soaring rates of Pug pups. These pups are brought and sold for as much as Rs. 30,000/- and more. Just like we question—who gains from Fair & Lovely advertisements, it is high time we question who gains from animals being used in advertisements! From most of what I know, the glamour of animals used in advertisements is limited to their images on print and on screen—they actually live a life of dejection when they stop to “perform”. The matter of ethics about animals in advertisements is a separate issue again. </span>
<br />
<br /><span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Indian pups should be adopted to beat senseless and unethical professional breeding—Reason No.3
<br />
<br /></span></span><span><span><span><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDM9Sv5U-InKo7uZbZUhhmpr81gk_B2he0DoFrMhth5RznWKicOOqPR1LA0iEM0ccxVZ26SB6XxJJI96Kb7Fy2KlzvonP1hzb71791ALCHLyhJIMBxSdE2Jz-s1q24BJ3E7d7bA/s1600-h/IMG_1102-1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDM9Sv5U-InKo7uZbZUhhmpr81gk_B2he0DoFrMhth5RznWKicOOqPR1LA0iEM0ccxVZ26SB6XxJJI96Kb7Fy2KlzvonP1hzb71791ALCHLyhJIMBxSdE2Jz-s1q24BJ3E7d7bA/s320/IMG_1102-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379575219479861410" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-46554563913087199402009-08-16T23:35:00.024+05:302009-08-17T12:42:13.984+05:30A Beautiful Day<span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-size:130%;">TODAY was the BIG day! If you are wondering what I am talking about.... this is about the rally cum adoption camp I had announced in my post dated </span></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" ><a href="http://ambrosia-am.blogspot.com/2009/08/please-adopt-us-we-want-to-be-loved-too.html"><span style="">August 10</span></a></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >.</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">TODAY, the weather seemed to have miraculously cleared after the last few days of heavy rainfall. </span><st1:city style="font-family: times new roman;" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Bangalore </st1:place></st1:city></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >woke up to a sunny but cool morning. We breat</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >hed a sign of relief and thanked the weather Gods.</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" > </span>
<br /><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >TODAY was a significant day for animal rights advo</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >cates as well as the street dogs in the city—a message conveyed, a point made, an awareness created, and 15 little pups in loving, secure homes. Tonight, all the 15 of them will perhaps</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" > sleep in a ho</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >me t</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >hey can call their own for the very first time.</span>
<br />
<br /><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >This post will be mainly photographs, I shall write about the issu</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >e behind our efforts in the next one! The event began with a great rally consisting of lots o</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >f banners, posters, people, and slogans! I have here some slogans that I remember:</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>Save the puppies! Save! Save!<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>Indian dogs! Bhow! Bhow!</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>Street dogs can change your life! Yes they can! Yes they can!<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>Save us! Bhow! Bhow!</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>Can Indian puppies survive! Yes they can! Yes they can!<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>Save the street dogs! Save! Save!
<br /></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>Adopt the street dogs! Adopt! Adopt!</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>
<br /></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;" align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgm2ntlPaQyE_M8Sna1mYx7R05gMs1CBjaOfboHk7rVtYWjppg9_7j-Zpys4TYubIMamtOjLxzEWXYEPHcND0fRkM8Z7jNYK4zsmrxgsW-vc8QdgFq8zxHG4QK0T9YW-foznXVQ/s1600-h/IMG_1010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgm2ntlPaQyE_M8Sna1mYx7R05gMs1CBjaOfboHk7rVtYWjppg9_7j-Zpys4TYubIMamtOjLxzEWXYEPHcND0fRkM8Z7jNYK4zsmrxgsW-vc8QdgFq8zxHG4QK0T9YW-foznXVQ/s400/IMG_1010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370790942461876162" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:trebuchet ms;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">The march being flagged off.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:trebuchet ms;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:trebuchet ms;" align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jgWsGmpnrF_XtDs3jN4FIDms_3PdwqgLdlL6x5mGeYOmdDjtGqTJl8Liohcb3XNCiZ6ZhyphenhyphenExbBchMJQ_AU3kIFdhYXf6xRh6_asbNcmDMC6jp7p4LjKGzgDhV2aDBLia9bOtFQ/s1600-h/DSC_0094.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jgWsGmpnrF_XtDs3jN4FIDms_3PdwqgLdlL6x5mGeYOmdDjtGqTJl8Liohcb3XNCiZ6ZhyphenhyphenExbBchMJQ_AU3kIFdhYXf6xRh6_asbNcmDMC6jp7p4LjKGzgDhV2aDBLia9bOtFQ/s400/DSC_0094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370794654503880978" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:trebuchet ms;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">A message conveyed, a point made.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirrGdY4p_3UxCZQVQyrtheZsMxuXfuKJxiA6jJvFP3uzjByMgsb_mK7cuNPpcDU08kKr0D7BkNwVFSpUvpi4IisSZZ-7KMgd4WZyPTB7Zg2TRa6QdVj9YHPhqOdaNB5hgMgoDaIg/s1600-h/IMG_1019.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370626401981502018" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 252px; cursor: pointer; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirrGdY4p_3UxCZQVQyrtheZsMxuXfuKJxiA6jJvFP3uzjByMgsb_mK7cuNPpcDU08kKr0D7BkNwVFSpUvpi4IisSZZ-7KMgd4WZyPTB7Zg2TRa6QdVj9YHPhqOdaNB5hgMgoDaIg/s320/IMG_1019.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51); text-align: center;" align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKiwIDTKNlQsUdi9hx_LT3Y2Pgnaza70DifG7utfoiO21Q3mdvHtwfiwcY0ZYUAG5TQcpfuXVJ8dGaYn5_PNh_ule05qSJAj5uNNvmUfNLO_AjvfoHOFm3zGbQSPk1bZPS0qu6QQ/s1600-h/DSC_0107.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 342px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKiwIDTKNlQsUdi9hx_LT3Y2Pgnaza70DifG7utfoiO21Q3mdvHtwfiwcY0ZYUAG5TQcpfuXVJ8dGaYn5_PNh_ule05qSJAj5uNNvmUfNLO_AjvfoHOFm3zGbQSPk1bZPS0qu6QQ/s400/DSC_0107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370813534148811858" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOlc3tN8AGIMV8WBJS9pnrUBfCP6lHSo517eiF_88_2Tv8OXyMLH8JS2aijlc5NHijvKcHhQuqtscjD8KTGSSJLzozwa2l39ynSfx98RzKk6KdSkOV_i6MJNK_5c0jFpsYC7WSg/s1600-h/DSC_0107.JPG">
<br /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The rally was followed by the adoption camp. The pups were first vaccinated! I must reiterate that all the pups were "<st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Indian street</st1:address></st1:street> pups"<meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAMRITA%7E1.DUT%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><span style="">—</span>saved from the streets from various life threatening situations. After the pups were vaccinated, little colorful ribbons were tied around their necks. They looked a pretty picture!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2DNphBlE0ouyB2FQ9aWdkfV-NMB5kzwy6ZPmzV88GhXU8kz-KeEb1pORTxdLpi8yHofp9uOgD_j0jveOIcQpG2f0V77n_UAidvuZHmVG6s8295v0xuIyNhNa0FPXXTAmlzmOiQ/s1600-h/DSC_0029.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 386px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2DNphBlE0ouyB2FQ9aWdkfV-NMB5kzwy6ZPmzV88GhXU8kz-KeEb1pORTxdLpi8yHofp9uOgD_j0jveOIcQpG2f0V77n_UAidvuZHmVG6s8295v0xuIyNhNa0FPXXTAmlzmOiQ/s400/DSC_0029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370815430180770786" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> <style>!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style></p><p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgouEfGjuWcpeM9Rx4qUWbtkoVYzdqSmIk6i58DU8IPCqXcUQ3GJSG_2Jw5nXEBqSAmqFUjyZM0vmG7eM2S-hZik6aWAtUTYYX8QNjYzzyd72XxwSpDkKIu60zEq8JTj15tpMBnWQ/s1600-h/DSC_0211.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgouEfGjuWcpeM9Rx4qUWbtkoVYzdqSmIk6i58DU8IPCqXcUQ3GJSG_2Jw5nXEBqSAmqFUjyZM0vmG7eM2S-hZik6aWAtUTYYX8QNjYzzyd72XxwSpDkKIu60zEq8JTj15tpMBnWQ/s320/DSC_0211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370818133307621122" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Soon people started walking in to adopt the pups. They got to choose their new family member first, after which they had to complete an adoption formality. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;" align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiRfY5IWakZYizH-FAH10yzU9JzxPU2VRIIdQeAr9V7KFmNN5tGMrCmzd-oFzzcjz3nSiXIFnu4k4sxW9C2r_Fs7PRsjv3aOYA_c1xoj4SRXFtnslBPxHJqPI4vgp7rAmq3UTBw/s1600-h/IMG_1082.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiRfY5IWakZYizH-FAH10yzU9JzxPU2VRIIdQeAr9V7KFmNN5tGMrCmzd-oFzzcjz3nSiXIFnu4k4sxW9C2r_Fs7PRsjv3aOYA_c1xoj4SRXFtnslBPxHJqPI4vgp7rAmq3UTBw/s320/IMG_1082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370821971151416754" border="0" /></a></p> <p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Enjoy the pictures! The families were also given counseling by the doctors and volunteers.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg2yybCWTi1uBqopziOpX9YIbc0AloRQRHZduJByq_akUFSWhh4BOOM3gX13YwopbdFqX6msvh_ooeuypWjvlxBJSj4txDqvN8d0PcakFc1A__-yhG6THP1oYE_Q51YR6yvDcS-w/s1600-h/IMG_1096.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg2yybCWTi1uBqopziOpX9YIbc0AloRQRHZduJByq_akUFSWhh4BOOM3gX13YwopbdFqX6msvh_ooeuypWjvlxBJSj4txDqvN8d0PcakFc1A__-yhG6THP1oYE_Q51YR6yvDcS-w/s320/IMG_1096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370823736546823474" border="0" /></a></p> <p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh86YcANHZkyKE7HouI2ekIKvkct7KrMuGV6mtbjY6ExMWMEyb9h4xZX8a3fw1lprgtjWrTkOyrM0Fya7jBVhVCUFJaaQLTzyRxn74KbD33pQMrdvlRZPOidXgkGEOxoB4dW07j4g/s1600-h/IMG_1082.JPG"><style></style></a></p><div face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh86YcANHZkyKE7HouI2ekIKvkct7KrMuGV6mtbjY6ExMWMEyb9h4xZX8a3fw1lprgtjWrTkOyrM0Fya7jBVhVCUFJaaQLTzyRxn74KbD33pQMrdvlRZPOidXgkGEOxoB4dW07j4g/s1600-h/IMG_1082.JPG"><meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAMRITA%7E1.DUT%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh86YcANHZkyKE7HouI2ekIKvkct7KrMuGV6mtbjY6ExMWMEyb9h4xZX8a3fw1lprgtjWrTkOyrM0Fya7jBVhVCUFJaaQLTzyRxn74KbD33pQMrdvlRZPOidXgkGEOxoB4dW07j4g/s1600-h/IMG_1082.JPG">
<br /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLTTa6vnjLC61gWgkR-52gqa1RsfBf4S9nD-NdElyvVD2nY0AMK1_Asurwj5J2wtfeMNqsgldX7-Nph5fqSK_KbqA7zYOcNchQHYRPZpWOzV1q6ont1Wcs2TYZb76mkrNc5LHeA/s1600-h/DSC_0216.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370625078179067122" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 250px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLTTa6vnjLC61gWgkR-52gqa1RsfBf4S9nD-NdElyvVD2nY0AMK1_Asurwj5J2wtfeMNqsgldX7-Nph5fqSK_KbqA7zYOcNchQHYRPZpWOzV1q6ont1Wcs2TYZb76mkrNc5LHeA/s320/DSC_0216.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzw7GCcxmrX7OpL3IMdIs_bcv-oa3hKRrxq54XkFNy6D_bWLSg10CUr_-RCh3XIraRQgAgqSUl0bkwRk_WkAGAlx3DFQisRxaf9jGx-CfWBXmMW7cpXDXiiT8fPQxw0Ly11IzAQ/s1600-h/IMG_1085.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370632812418364482" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 283px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzw7GCcxmrX7OpL3IMdIs_bcv-oa3hKRrxq54XkFNy6D_bWLSg10CUr_-RCh3XIraRQgAgqSUl0bkwRk_WkAGAlx3DFQisRxaf9jGx-CfWBXmMW7cpXDXiiT8fPQxw0Ly11IzAQ/s400/IMG_1085.JPG" border="0" /></a></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAMRITA%7E1.DUT%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" >All the families with their new babies received puppy care kits from Let’s Live Together and some more pampering from Pedigree who had also set up stall.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" >
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzw7GCcxmrX7OpL3IMdIs_bcv-oa3hKRrxq54XkFNy6D_bWLSg10CUr_-RCh3XIraRQgAgqSUl0bkwRk_WkAGAlx3DFQisRxaf9jGx-CfWBXmMW7cpXDXiiT8fPQxw0Ly11IzAQ/s1600-h/IMG_1085.JPG"><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAMRITA%7E1.DUT%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" ></span></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmLBycDwPxpM1cyThkCpWweDNsAvsZkIxJcah5ogLCklRdoze1bHz3a1vb0cYfHxEo-maobbew-qFrAtS7oEJk5ciDsfheg_8nT8lTvWf4m-GsimgrXmhVlG_ElrRgugDLsiEEJw/s1600-h/IMG_1091.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370635020687615698" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 359px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmLBycDwPxpM1cyThkCpWweDNsAvsZkIxJcah5ogLCklRdoze1bHz3a1vb0cYfHxEo-maobbew-qFrAtS7oEJk5ciDsfheg_8nT8lTvWf4m-GsimgrXmhVlG_ElrRgugDLsiEEJw/s400/IMG_1091.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0sh5fiifbVdcg-cOtvikq8PZ1e4dbdX3z86gmyJI6qcGfOtxYNZ-Z4L_X2zw7xl3WKeBZ2qdNhRBclkgXUnBJTV9RwIK3SmarFjXkEJyY4SgSalpDZocCPLbWMX1XHwVxLz-hXg/s1600-h/IMG_1037.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370628701832301170" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0sh5fiifbVdcg-cOtvikq8PZ1e4dbdX3z86gmyJI6qcGfOtxYNZ-Z4L_X2zw7xl3WKeBZ2qdNhRBclkgXUnBJTV9RwIK3SmarFjXkEJyY4SgSalpDZocCPLbWMX1XHwVxLz-hXg/s400/IMG_1037.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhphfjqxjdn4rq5YIl4PiVFgEeYEDWMjPsZ8jg7phXbsNeVZpMC2fiORg_Kn2f7iYrws0pGJLCPFHQ2-314_EiWxrX4j-NR0zT88Ol7JB_FIuqlx1gL1NZjmggLu4_uOd6pTN_GUA/s1600-h/IMG_1035.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370628115149933154" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 351px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhphfjqxjdn4rq5YIl4PiVFgEeYEDWMjPsZ8jg7phXbsNeVZpMC2fiORg_Kn2f7iYrws0pGJLCPFHQ2-314_EiWxrX4j-NR0zT88Ol7JB_FIuqlx1gL1NZjmggLu4_uOd6pTN_GUA/s400/IMG_1035.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuzo20BQGGWISQfxcW9OWgoy5TybIk_Gv2rZXNPPvA4AH2VnFrH12hip-2YwQQGkI0JzPyMPYo6RCQn1ASxfxvEPgmoV06pp8H1LwVt7TGmOFMYoDiIB0nvLxz0Pwx49Uqa9Byw/s1600-h/IMG_1028.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370627687332511906" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 375px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuzo20BQGGWISQfxcW9OWgoy5TybIk_Gv2rZXNPPvA4AH2VnFrH12hip-2YwQQGkI0JzPyMPYo6RCQn1ASxfxvEPgmoV06pp8H1LwVt7TGmOFMYoDiIB0nvLxz0Pwx49Uqa9Byw/s400/IMG_1028.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kVlx5Iuh7O-J4429APMLdwa8i0275AQLLaN1wZ9-PLI6GnMfF_EjGtGffi16iJu8An_OYRtL4h-T38-V0Sq99qADdgxJuUMYH_s1KBPWIwtbNWDJ_A9qRIvEvmgyp7FHraeBkw/s1600-h/DSC_0200.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370618416528240082" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 213px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kVlx5Iuh7O-J4429APMLdwa8i0275AQLLaN1wZ9-PLI6GnMfF_EjGtGffi16iJu8An_OYRtL4h-T38-V0Sq99qADdgxJuUMYH_s1KBPWIwtbNWDJ_A9qRIvEvmgyp7FHraeBkw/s320/DSC_0200.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA5K56JY-GfPj7oEN2SAC2sWbUC-kdPJUZ5gJO0BIbqH02kDF31ON3mnHFIMLFq0PMhzwvvcw9Nr8OMiuigUGzm2V5h7ysNmIaNiydwkYfNn82_pUGa8dnG6TFVNufAjnSpnVEbQ/s1600-h/IMG_1074.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370631164455357010" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 371px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA5K56JY-GfPj7oEN2SAC2sWbUC-kdPJUZ5gJO0BIbqH02kDF31ON3mnHFIMLFq0PMhzwvvcw9Nr8OMiuigUGzm2V5h7ysNmIaNiydwkYfNn82_pUGa8dnG6TFVNufAjnSpnVEbQ/s400/IMG_1074.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4nDxaguLm8H_07k53WPG2nfJTWxur4BglPXDFD1W3Nf0mw2xyCeqyX7bYyA8I9Nco0S9ru9EAbdvsM2s4I3ExiGrqp7fkL45q2JsZUXyJCQdAXqNQXZY47NZ-TpUrwT9OovxIdA/s1600-h/DSC_0204.JPG">
<br /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-CL3GhV5gNyoaTBpgKsyixiLyRcWAeIZX3JGqV0lJEEawmOOyZfpoLp9M5GrjF2EiE7KvO7OJliW8YmI6e9IXrNjEYT3OrWd_xWDUKBkIloTx5M5O6uhd4vjU6RL2qiMbFRtBLA/s1600-h/DSC_0210.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370621821159389170" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 213px; cursor: pointer; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-CL3GhV5gNyoaTBpgKsyixiLyRcWAeIZX3JGqV0lJEEawmOOyZfpoLp9M5GrjF2EiE7KvO7OJliW8YmI6e9IXrNjEYT3OrWd_xWDUKBkIloTx5M5O6uhd4vjU6RL2qiMbFRtBLA/s320/DSC_0210.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4EJZXxaRaMJfsW4f2TVAcHgGZXH1pOVqmLQx7_c-mQ8vHqJTcxNBnSx0R5HLVOVJF3ureVm8RFcKCjC3MpfvrRQmIZWOTQdGG5ii4wcswJfKX5KPaox2niP_WW20PEVT9p8boA/s1600-h/DSC_0016.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370595724739574578" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 317px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4EJZXxaRaMJfsW4f2TVAcHgGZXH1pOVqmLQx7_c-mQ8vHqJTcxNBnSx0R5HLVOVJF3ureVm8RFcKCjC3MpfvrRQmIZWOTQdGG5ii4wcswJfKX5KPaox2niP_WW20PEVT9p8boA/s320/DSC_0016.JPG" border="0" /></a></span> <meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAMRITA%7E1.DUT%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> <span style="font-size:100%;">There was someone who did not hesitate to adopt the pup with three legs. For the records, this little one runs the fastest!</span>
<br /><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhphfjqxjdn4rq5YIl4PiVFgEeYEDWMjPsZ8jg7phXbsNeVZpMC2fiORg_Kn2f7iYrws0pGJLCPFHQ2-314_EiWxrX4j-NR0zT88Ol7JB_FIuqlx1gL1NZjmggLu4_uOd6pTN_GUA/s1600-h/IMG_1035.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370628115149933154" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 351px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhphfjqxjdn4rq5YIl4PiVFgEeYEDWMjPsZ8jg7phXbsNeVZpMC2fiORg_Kn2f7iYrws0pGJLCPFHQ2-314_EiWxrX4j-NR0zT88Ol7JB_FIuqlx1gL1NZjmggLu4_uOd6pTN_GUA/s400/IMG_1035.JPG" border="0" /></a></span> <span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-VgZ-TXECJccnDCUn6IxXB83hPVXJ6WybEfIgW1BlJz2Q5TRBFSOUSo17Qk2tkVgEpMIRwihy6GOA6sJkewZ1cYqAb53Vb2O5kNrTqJG34musfiVcoImtPJU5MFXAIi8iFwi7A/s1600-h/IMG_1099.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370635524088627794" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 392px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-VgZ-TXECJccnDCUn6IxXB83hPVXJ6WybEfIgW1BlJz2Q5TRBFSOUSo17Qk2tkVgEpMIRwihy6GOA6sJkewZ1cYqAb53Vb2O5kNrTqJG34musfiVcoImtPJU5MFXAIi8iFwi7A/s400/IMG_1099.JPG" border="0" /></a></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIrCLS7IA_HGd_cBpCnWopyg9hRrY_4OZTEm7FdJhyuTy1K00rMS4gPu41HumU2uzSY_dU8gcsCLSFECYu17v5HQpW6UGX00AfjuOQenJhWvKqnIM7rlUuuj3cZjU49LgCXY7RA/s1600-h/IMG_1102.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370636017432534114" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 395px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIrCLS7IA_HGd_cBpCnWopyg9hRrY_4OZTEm7FdJhyuTy1K00rMS4gPu41HumU2uzSY_dU8gcsCLSFECYu17v5HQpW6UGX00AfjuOQenJhWvKqnIM7rlUuuj3cZjU49LgCXY7RA/s400/IMG_1102.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4uzdEddy1ggn0BToVgSc5_QsqIWVjUAdZj_NuF2Br2JuzkhVcAdsN1_9gz_DX2V3MajNlGiBnFYRXZRBnA3vN6ZuUek1USGlPdECXOrwncdG0-32-zyWkRn9b0s_Br84XFKDDg/s1600-h/DSC_0164.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370610325959527058" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 282px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4uzdEddy1ggn0BToVgSc5_QsqIWVjUAdZj_NuF2Br2JuzkhVcAdsN1_9gz_DX2V3MajNlGiBnFYRXZRBnA3vN6ZuUek1USGlPdECXOrwncdG0-32-zyWkRn9b0s_Br84XFKDDg/s320/DSC_0164.JPG" border="0" /></a></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkcMF8Hb0jVLEud_IwxSSgcR7GH4AYDGQKyKlXABcbSt8y-v5gAX7yF7ZWZcDq4aG758WZ1uBcqNMng6MIpDlRxMDy5v02cFsbU2CjDkDa0HRlFjcPoYXr2tSG6Zq0NXuBQHXSg/s1600-h/IMG_1050.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370629288498851938" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 294px; cursor: pointer; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkcMF8Hb0jVLEud_IwxSSgcR7GH4AYDGQKyKlXABcbSt8y-v5gAX7yF7ZWZcDq4aG758WZ1uBcqNMng6MIpDlRxMDy5v02cFsbU2CjDkDa0HRlFjcPoYXr2tSG6Zq0NXuBQHXSg/s320/IMG_1050.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqBr3Gk8K-5fVUCLUOsA7OXgha-b-shiPqPmDqLEeVV55cgit30r5kWrdXX3xo71rpF-2FgT9IUeVgxfx8DZtXiMcPgHJkYL66hyl45LhL-xAO39jxJggNnMULsqEF-v76ix_4cQ/s1600-h/DSC_0172.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370612427754125234" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 228px; cursor: pointer; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqBr3Gk8K-5fVUCLUOsA7OXgha-b-shiPqPmDqLEeVV55cgit30r5kWrdXX3xo71rpF-2FgT9IUeVgxfx8DZtXiMcPgHJkYL66hyl45LhL-xAO39jxJggNnMULsqEF-v76ix_4cQ/s320/DSC_0172.JPG" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSF40NF_Ow3uMd5D5SiteMbmhi8jA6ui52o_DtQhkFAcf4KbgpKkRbGGQv-qMRwnQ5uVjOyzjJf17KV7-cJ6YwTTkAQG5D1M3gbI0RUFyRrsgHne4k4bSVWTWOGyvR5OHBuO3Hg/s1600-h/IMG_1059.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370629678154460818" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 359px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSF40NF_Ow3uMd5D5SiteMbmhi8jA6ui52o_DtQhkFAcf4KbgpKkRbGGQv-qMRwnQ5uVjOyzjJf17KV7-cJ6YwTTkAQG5D1M3gbI0RUFyRrsgHne4k4bSVWTWOGyvR5OHBuO3Hg/s400/IMG_1059.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was a beautiful day!
<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-43270226664440816482009-08-13T08:56:00.007+05:302009-08-13T09:39:12.065+05:30Four Little Paws<span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>I</strong></span> am writing after a nearly four-month long hiatus. I was having one of those angry conversations with God once again. Certain events in these months had made me feel extremely restless. Living in this city had started to choke my innards as violently as the exhibition of violence outside—extreme levels of cruelty, silent suffering and pain!! I was feeling very, very angry and helpless.<br /><br />Angry, because I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the brutality all around (I often asked, are all planets equally violent.... If not, WHY AM I HERE?). And helpless that I couldn’t do anything to make a perceptible difference. Even the choices that I had made in my life seemed so meaningless before the mounting violent choices of others!! I tried to write but no words would come out except for an overpowering sense of felt bitterness. “I can’t take it anymore!!!!” My innards screamed. All I could see around me was an overwhelming lump of mass made of material that looked just like humans but with brains that can think of nothing but “I”, “me”, and “mine”! Compassion, love, and empathy sadly limited within “I”, “me”, and “mine”!<br /><br />More than three months passed, and in this time I went on a road trip to Coorg and another to Shirdi, watched Harry Potter, few other movies—old and new, the reality shows on television, wondered about different things but didn’t write about any! The trip to Shirdi was significant. Sai Baba of Shirdi holds an extremely special place in my existence. He is my guardian angel, and someone who shows me the path from the other side. I was in Shirdi for the first time for a long awaited <em>darshan</em>. “Why is the earth so cruel?” I asked Him too. “And if I have to feel sad every day witnessing the cruel acts of my fellow humans, how do I live....”<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>A</strong> </span>few weeks back I received a mail from someone called Achala Pani and the contents were such that I went to meet her immediately. Very soon I was introduced to her world of street pups, street dogs, and abandoned breed dogs. I learnt how she along with some volunteers work on a project called Let’s Live Together, how they pick up abandoned pups and injured pups and foster them till they find the pups a loving adopted home. I learnt of stories with happy endings, of how little pups found loving human homes. I felt answers to my angry questions beginning to come....<br /><br />Then I met Four Little Paws. I met her at Achala’s. She was squatting at the far corner of the room, a little hesitant and looking steadily at me with her little black-pearl like eyes. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZnGIcnI8YtVC9t1lLghOL4Eww1Ms2vQb7_eNBkf689qlmWus91bfFdy81EjjLv4k1n5TSHkJppansdsspcjwCjo2So9Me0LC8P-121yu6Sn6Esj63NSG0NgmTWFBzBxED6xViw/s1600-h/DSC_0070a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369286355829876178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZnGIcnI8YtVC9t1lLghOL4Eww1Ms2vQb7_eNBkf689qlmWus91bfFdy81EjjLv4k1n5TSHkJppansdsspcjwCjo2So9Me0LC8P-121yu6Sn6Esj63NSG0NgmTWFBzBxED6xViw/s320/DSC_0070a.jpg" border="0" /></a>All of a few inches high and with specks of white and rust in her otherwise black body, she made a perfect case to fall in love with her. She had been found a week back in a gutter all alone—no mother—no body to look after her—thin, weary, and sick. A volunteer had brought her to Achala’s home. Little Paws was initially terrified of human touch but very soon her flawless little soul recognized a “secure” touch.<br /><br />I met Little Paws when she was already seven days in a secure healing environment. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5S5pgsN2te0Hccpzg4Q0y3jV_J89Nf20rxVHPM5CrhE4erBEMkrkVpJMoXHrZWmuq1VYrq2aFe8weehBHMcWwNa2aYW7cp4TTNxMEA_UKVr3l1tzfPoCyYLZmh7kW3nfbotcw5A/s1600-h/DSC_0114b.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369287955778067282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5S5pgsN2te0Hccpzg4Q0y3jV_J89Nf20rxVHPM5CrhE4erBEMkrkVpJMoXHrZWmuq1VYrq2aFe8weehBHMcWwNa2aYW7cp4TTNxMEA_UKVr3l1tzfPoCyYLZmh7kW3nfbotcw5A/s320/DSC_0114b.jpg" border="0" /></a>She was only 1.5 months old and I was deeply touched by the innocence in her that had seemingly made her put behind the traumatic first few weeks of her life. She enjoyed chewing my fingers with her pointed little teeth and it was a blessed sight to see her hold a biscuit between her two front paws and munch on it like a squirrel.<br /><br />I was sad to leave the company of Little Paws when it was time to say goodbye. Within a week I was informed that she had been adopted. Another message from God. “Now calm down,” God said. Hmmmmm.... “But I want more. I want more!” I said.<br /><br />“You will have more.” God said.<br /><br />I dedicate this post to Four Little Paws and Achala. They got me to create something out of the felt bitterness. They showed me the face of goodness from the highest echelons of the spirit. I wonder what Little Paws is called in her new home. I will hold her close in my memory as those four little paws that chewed my fingers and while at it, made me despair less.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Photographs: Courtesy Achala Pani</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-47261659887148712702009-08-10T18:19:00.002+05:302009-08-10T18:23:10.172+05:30Please adopt us, we want to be loved too<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcjQpz6aykjhMUmKHSzMkglXACJA5hoieBPr3lO-5wPssihX1zfH6qrFHd9PAheFhYTr3n8VpqmLz3Z-kF_OzNQv0p8src6qiEUp1S22z5qtI9gEI2Or-2EyEKfNIb5Qi173qijA/s1600-h/poster-fr-adoption-camp1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcjQpz6aykjhMUmKHSzMkglXACJA5hoieBPr3lO-5wPssihX1zfH6qrFHd9PAheFhYTr3n8VpqmLz3Z-kF_OzNQv0p8src6qiEUp1S22z5qtI9gEI2Or-2EyEKfNIb5Qi173qijA/s400/poster-fr-adoption-camp1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368317031015406914" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-9555824244716997082009-04-16T23:57:00.012+05:302009-04-17T14:35:55.728+05:30Of Bananas and Caramels<span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#993300;"><strong>“H</strong></span>eyyyyyy I have invented something really yummy! Make it now and tell me what you think!!<span style="font-size:180%;color:#993300;"><strong>”</strong></span> That was *MD’s opening line from the other end of the telephone at well past 11:00 pm, one evening.<br /><br />“Mummmmmm, yummmmmmmmmm, very, very, nice”, she continued with all the special effects.<br /><br />“Ok, what is it?” I asked impatiently.<br /><br />MD continued with what it seemed from the “beginning” (as we say, <em>shuru say</em>). “You see, I had a sudden craving for something sweet and there were no sweets in my larder! All I could find were some bananas which is exactly not what would have satiated my craving. But then you see, a little imagination and a lot can be done with a banana fruit! I cut them up <em>gole-gole</em>, lit a slow fire, put the <em>tava</em> on the flame, smeared the <em>tava</em> with <em>ghee</em>, and then laid out the banana pieces on the <em>ghee</em>. When the side down had turned golden, I sprinkled the non-golden side with sugar and turned them over. Soon when the sugar caramelized, I turned them up and switched off the flame. I left them on the <em>tava</em> to cool a bit and become crispy and nowwwwwwwwwww I am having them. Mummmmmm, yummmmmmmmmm, very, very, nice…………………………”<br /><br />As if this was not enough, “Make it right now”, she implored.<br /><br />“First, I am not having a craving for sweets, second there is no banana at home,” I replied.<br /><br />But perhaps MD did not know then that I had heard her recipe with rapt attention and registered it in my mind for future recall. And, out of curiosity more than any thing else, I tried her recipe the following day. “Hmm, not bad”, I thought to myself. I got a little bold and served it to a couple of friends too. “Where did you learn to make this?” was the first question I was asked as I watched my friends nibble on the caramelized bananas with great relish! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NAnnBdmrvYq-NgDNcQPaEVh29EbBy-lpNhI7gCR-ekJ1STMM2sbfVUq1HSAACT_CTW87YAhqq8pGb-VRHcjC0OYp4SOucjWaauycLdHudvPV2zU68baDAxUfQ8x9jmLoq5nOQg/s1600-h/Picture+007b.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325360485127772562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NAnnBdmrvYq-NgDNcQPaEVh29EbBy-lpNhI7gCR-ekJ1STMM2sbfVUq1HSAACT_CTW87YAhqq8pGb-VRHcjC0OYp4SOucjWaauycLdHudvPV2zU68baDAxUfQ8x9jmLoq5nOQg/s320/Picture+007b.jpg" border="0" /></a>Here’s a picture I took of the bites still on the <em>tava</em> being cooked – in fact, I served in the <em>tava</em> itself – with one fork each for everyone – that lent the serve an exotic air!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br />Well, I have never made a post on food on my blog before, so glad to broaden the scope, thanks to MD!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*MD: For any of you who may wonder who I am talking about, MD is my sister.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-16646431205299460572009-04-15T23:51:00.004+05:302009-04-16T00:26:07.229+05:30Tagged and Passed<span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:180%;">I</span> was recently tagged by <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/05707995826102297958"><span style="color:#660000;">Twisted Faktory</span></a> to complete a meme. I have been “tagged” once before. So I knew what being tagged means. It means answering some questions and passing on the questions to friendly bloggers who’d be interested in answering the same questions and passing them on.... But I didn’t know what “meme” meant before I was tagged this time. Now I do, and <a href="http://thedailymeme.com/what-is-a-meme/"><span style="color:#660000;">here</span></a> </span><span style="font-family:georgia;">is one of the most comprehensive explanations I found on the internet.<br /><br />Now, coming to the rules of this tag, they are:<br />1. Respond and rework.<br />2. Answer questions on your own blog.<br />3. Replace one question. Add one question.<br />4. Tag eight bloggers.<br /><br />The following are my responses to the questions:<br /><br /><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>What are your current obsessions?</strong></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Watching movies, watching television, and reading newspaper</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#003300;"><strong>Which item from your closet are you wearing most often?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">The lightest kurta with the shortest sleeve</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>What's for dinner?</strong></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Pav-bhaji with mango juice</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>Say something to the person who tagged you:</strong></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">May you fulfill all the things you have planned to do in life. My best wishes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#003300;"><strong>Your favorite vacation spots:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">The mountain areas of Uttaranchal and the Nilgiri mountains in South India</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#003300;"><strong>Your worst nightmare:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">To be left alone on earth</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#003300;"><strong>Reading right now?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Yes, a book on guiding dreams.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>What is the last movie you saw and enjoyed? Rate it out of 5 stars.</strong></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">The Reader. Five stars.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#003300;"><strong>Guilty pleasure?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Shopping for clothes</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#003300;"><strong>First spring thing?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Taking off from office work</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#003300;"><strong>Best thing you ate or drank lately?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Aaam panna by Haldiram’s</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>Care to share some wisdom?</strong></span><br />Respect every creation of Nature, however small. Respect begets respect.<br /><br /><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>Boon you would ask for if God came before you?</strong></span><br />To grant me Aladdin's magic lamp in full working condition<br /><br /><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>What would happen if you are not a woman/man (which ever is applicable to you?)</strong></span><br />Me, as a biological man<br /><br /><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>Are you voting this time?</strong></span><br />No. I was told I am not eligible - I need to be occupying my current residence for at least six months.<br /><br /><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>I tag:</strong></span><br /><a href="http://kalpalatad.wordpress.com/"><span style="color:#660000;">KD and her thoughts clamoring for attention</span></a><span style="color:#660000;"> </span></span><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><a href="http://mesdikasimplecooking.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#660000;">Mesdi’s and her simple cooking</span></a></span><span style="color:#660000;"><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><a href="http://a-canine-diary.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#660000;">Little Budi and his side of the story</span></a> </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#660000;"><a href="http://mywordsandlife.blogspot.com/">M and her words and life</a></span><span style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:georgia;"><a href="http://aanka-baanka-poth.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#660000;">A curved line and her musings</span></a> </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><a href="http://sigma_sm.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#660000;">Sigma and her thoughts</span></a><span style="color:#660000;"> </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#660000;"><a href="http://whereisvijay.blogspot.com/">A computer guy who loves to travel</a></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-15664747480360222822009-04-09T23:53:00.004+05:302009-04-10T00:35:48.239+05:30What goes, comes around: Making ethical choices<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYMNfCZcI5qTrNlniy4g9TT8e-TgWj8njO_hOlK9DyIIzdDiiKAEA3mfH9fJgNgR3CE7S6U7o9OpSQlLcx0J4fDISWU_Z40vxJddAunDmW9Oy15hLQdk5ZCFiWOszD2LFFFgCjw/s1600-h/canada-seals-lush.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322763434400843282" style="WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYMNfCZcI5qTrNlniy4g9TT8e-TgWj8njO_hOlK9DyIIzdDiiKAEA3mfH9fJgNgR3CE7S6U7o9OpSQlLcx0J4fDISWU_Z40vxJddAunDmW9Oy15hLQdk5ZCFiWOszD2LFFFgCjw/s320/canada-seals-lush.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><p><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Friends, Canada’s annual slaughter of baby seals has begun – of babies less than 4 weeks old and according to sources “who haven’t had their first swim yet”. The baby seals are being clobbered to death every hour of the day for their FUR. Last year, more than 2,05,000 seals were killed for FUR on the Canadian soil. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;">I have been thinking.... on the one hand the whole world is reeling under threats of terrorism, violence of every kind imaginable, communalism, fascism, racism, wars, death, destruction, and the list goes on.... and on the other hand as a human race we are continuing to inflict pain and suffering on the millions of members of our animal kingdom, every second of each and every day. What do we expect after this – that our lives will be a cloudless saga and the little spaces we occupy on earth violence-free? But that is not possible, because what goes comes around too. This is the Universal Law, which we quote when convenient and ignore when we need to make choices that will upset the habits we have formed. In the words of Leo Tolstoy, <em>"As long as there are slaughter houses, there will be battle fields."</em> I cannot agree more. Today, I may aspire to adopt a cruelty-free lifestyle which is a choice I make in my individual life, but there are millions of my own kind who abet the harming and killing of animals. </span></p><p>As <span style="font-family:georgia;">human beings we have the power to exercise creativity in the different fields of work we choose in life but without a sense of ethics our creativity may be a hotbed of bad karmas. To take an example in the context of this post of mine, are the fashion designers and the rich class (often without ethics) who create a demand for fur. And to “fulfill” this demand, millions of animals such as baby seals, rabbits, dogs, etc. are led to suffer horrific deaths. I am ashamed at what we collectively do to the unsuspecting animals that are simply trapped and killed. I have been following the protests of animal activists from all over the world including the stand of the cruelty-free cosmetic brand <a href="http://www.lushusa.com/shop/saveourseals/"><span style="color:#660000;"><strong>LUSH</strong></span></a> </span><span style="font-family:georgia;">against the slaughter of seals in Canada. The least I can do is endorse online petitions to the Government of Canada and hope it will put a stop to the brutal killing of baby seals and also hope that the “demand” created for fur will cease to exist. You can also lend your voice by signing up on the petition by clicking <a href="http://getactive.peta.org/campaign/p2_seal_slaughter_09?c=11"><span style="color:#660000;"><strong>here</strong></span></a>. Besides, if you want detailed updates on the protests and see how the protesters are creating public awareness, you can click <a href="http://blog.peta2.com/seal_slaughter/?c=peta2_enews"><span style="color:#660000;"><strong>here</strong></span></a>. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;">There is enormous power in intent. If many people collectively hope for something to happen, it is bound to happen. For example take the case of the apparel brand <a href="http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/index.jsp"><strong><span style="color:#660000;">Urban Outfitters</span></strong></a> </span><span style="font-family:georgia;">who have recently issued a notice to the effect that all their stores are now fur-free. This declaration came after they received 4000 online petitions from individuals seeking for fur to be pulled out from their stores. Kudos. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;">But, Armani refuses to stop using fur for his fashion brand which means he refuses to stop killing little bunnies from whom he gets fur. We can keep trying and hope that one day he will give a chance to his conscience to be heard and make a compassionate choice. We can send out our intent to Armani by clicking <a href="http://getactive.peta.org/campaign/p2_rabbit_fur_investigation?c=11"><strong><span style="color:#660000;">here</span></strong></a>. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;"><em>"The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated,"</em> is a thought that Mahatma Gandhi has left us with. We expend a massive amount of intellectual capital on why violence happens and the strategies to counter it.... I end with a simple thought: non-violence begins at home.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-5946328038896309382009-04-02T23:21:00.012+05:302009-04-06T10:53:50.650+05:30The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon<div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I </span></strong>am passing through a curious phase in life. I can’t seem to finish any book I start to read. I seem to only have enough attentiveness to finish a short article. I can’t seem to enjoy most programmes on television. I seem to watch only reality shows (hmmph and enjoy them too) and the **Aastha channel. I can’t seem to like eating regular food anymore, such as rice for lunch and chapattis for dinner. I seem to want anything but rice and chapattis for lunch!! I also seem to have developed a hunger for films over which I devour many packets of my favorite onion-flavored potato chips from Lays. I can’t seem to enjoy my weekends at home anymore. I seem to have a compelling need to go out and explore. As though time is running out. Now, what kind of life crisis is this?!<br /><br />Hmmm, today’s post is to record and remind myself that there are exceptions too. For instance, I actually finished one book I had started, in three consecutive days flat, with nap-</span>gaps <span style="font-family:georgia;">in between, of course. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWysKGK7dqfW2OeyAjB7J_ECbffokCS7owKMbaZ6EzNJS9ZuM9pf5V-4t3mZPI52zJENWz2v7tj5DXOI5UtAqiFZ8bJkuEuooxCbNlNpA2CR1Tan3b3VBV3YzwYlFAreVk7lasDg/s1600-h/Picture+162.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320154786630507058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWysKGK7dqfW2OeyAjB7J_ECbffokCS7owKMbaZ6EzNJS9ZuM9pf5V-4t3mZPI52zJENWz2v7tj5DXOI5UtAqiFZ8bJkuEuooxCbNlNpA2CR1Tan3b3VBV3YzwYlFAreVk7lasDg/s320/Picture+162.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;">The book that kept me glued to it is the “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time” written by Mark Haddon. No, it is not a doggy tale, it is a mystery tale, rather. There is a dog but it gets killed in the very first page of the book. I don’t like fiction and films where dogs get killed which is why I did not pick up “Marley And Me” during my last trip to the bookstore and left watching the film based on it, mid-way. But, in this book I did not mind too much that the dog gets killed because it happens in the first page before I have formed attachment with the dog.<br /><br />I would recommend The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time to anyone who adores mysteries and thrillers. The story is about Christopher, an autistic boy gifted with a brand of intelligence quite different from the ordinary understanding of what “intelligence” comprises of. Christopher, inspired by Sherlock Holmes, his idol, gets involved in solving a mystery in unique style and while at it, discovers secrets about his own family that jar him in a peculiar way. This is where the mystery lies which you can find out if you read the book. The story is told in first person and this brings Christopher very close in the imagination of the reader besides speaking volumes about the brilliance of casting and composition of the author, Mark Haddon.<br /><br />I think I hung on to the book – one, because of the mystery in it, two, because of the fantastic insights of an autistic person – about his own behavior and his observations about the behavior of “normal” people. And three, because of the skilled integration of mystery with insights into the mind of an autistic adolescent by the writer. Sample some parts of the book by clicking the images below for a larger view.</span> </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8w_09Dw1kuhvPnUqYr9PVvH1ByFVHnYTmSoxycUCt89RmYMWbKaMw7S_7IKUQklbc1E_3vAvEUm6FBcB4_RQDfoRlpm1dHkrsZDQHwNaKyaJ2cwjBAkIcwVPihrFijTOjSA6Vrg/s1600-h/one.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320155379633256050" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8w_09Dw1kuhvPnUqYr9PVvH1ByFVHnYTmSoxycUCt89RmYMWbKaMw7S_7IKUQklbc1E_3vAvEUm6FBcB4_RQDfoRlpm1dHkrsZDQHwNaKyaJ2cwjBAkIcwVPihrFijTOjSA6Vrg/s200/one.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQXOgKS-0VXOsP1evdKt6txAmyhSdgZlM3pa0TgAinbH5WBbQUpH32NcykNzFDE9dOQi32giPDJvDNRSwUhaIQG-FtPvVILeV-cg8WKHjoinf_ZjPD9xjandpgV7fAsWU7KvNwg/s1600-h/three.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320156399411541538" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQXOgKS-0VXOsP1evdKt6txAmyhSdgZlM3pa0TgAinbH5WBbQUpH32NcykNzFDE9dOQi32giPDJvDNRSwUhaIQG-FtPvVILeV-cg8WKHjoinf_ZjPD9xjandpgV7fAsWU7KvNwg/s200/three.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlThSwG-Fe85rrc3vlUFhPmsy2-5zvhXJBsQR_A7JeXCb0xsFZxrybwhm0zaWQ1A8bFBjakYbG2w3-p-V1hjmL8RleLYRKIRkEtLGtwcHXrP3O0-MeJqgF_EME5OOKRSW1LxHlw/s1600-h/four.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320156573429106466" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlThSwG-Fe85rrc3vlUFhPmsy2-5zvhXJBsQR_A7JeXCb0xsFZxrybwhm0zaWQ1A8bFBjakYbG2w3-p-V1hjmL8RleLYRKIRkEtLGtwcHXrP3O0-MeJqgF_EME5OOKRSW1LxHlw/s200/four.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-family:georgia;">I hope you can read the book sometime.</span><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">*************<br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">**Speaking of the Aastha channel, I enjoy hearing some discourses telecast through the channel such as those of Brahmakumari Shivani and Baba Ramdev. I heard Baba Ramdev say something very interesting the other day. He was expounding upon how the Indian way of life has been envisioned to be fee from violence and as an example he spoke of the mechanism of the broomstick. Brooms as we know have gaps between each of its sticks. According to Baba Ramdev, gaps have been deliberately conceived so that small insects - including ants caught in them can scamper to safety. Quite profound!</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-32754653608109208512009-03-25T01:22:00.046+05:302009-03-25T11:29:40.703+05:30The healing touch of yellow<span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">B</span></strong>efore summer sets in, I want to post these pictures I clicked at a city park recently. Spring time yellow. I found myself gazing at the yellow all around me for a long time. The eyes felt <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqbGddXzVy98mHYnoYwvT-bzzVgv4bCILR448PoPgwpuMEw1Bz2d6cSf6Xacl8XUKgfb8sL-KQgotxbWbasML5d3Ow3tdiO-NaS83uzr0fHR2uv1dfwMFAjpmrB1F9GuMFcmYhA/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBdLAYWvCTyjMlvYZKM4P7U6USawImK3lr0aooHPSQ6gYUuCpqA2Y4Iuw-zT4NXdiuD1JtiIZANfSLvdkEQ4Kfla7TFpc_CSZjJcj_7x2IceIzddUgLXGmkq7L-YiR_4EZKPf0zw/s1600-h/Picture+032.jpg"></a>warmed, the heart too. I was thinking how sometime back I had<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-oUc_HSSt4H4t-h6eRVvvG69U58CFuOIyj9JtdrbfXTclotlmbTLAU-QZNBoEyKW23mhi50Ct772LyzE_2HXeORkFEdXueqKGONoPQ9Qdho-SKN4vz5ohnMHPdLnTH7fjZR6-g/s1600-h/Picture+019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316847614350651010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-oUc_HSSt4H4t-h6eRVvvG69U58CFuOIyj9JtdrbfXTclotlmbTLAU-QZNBoEyKW23mhi50Ct772LyzE_2HXeORkFEdXueqKGONoPQ9Qdho-SKN4vz5ohnMHPdLnTH7fjZR6-g/s200/Picture+019.jpg" border="0" /></a> got interested in color therapy and had dabbled in it for a while before mundane concerns in life took over. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqbGddXzVy98mHYnoYwvT-bzzVgv4bCILR448PoPgwpuMEw1Bz2d6cSf6Xacl8XUKgfb8sL-KQgotxbWbasML5d3Ow3tdiO-NaS83uzr0fHR2uv1dfwMFAjpmrB1F9GuMFcmYhA/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBdLAYWvCTyjMlvYZKM4P7U6USawImK3lr0aooHPSQ6gYUuCpqA2Y4Iuw-zT4NXdiuD1JtiIZANfSLvdkEQ4Kfla7TFpc_CSZjJcj_7x2IceIzddUgLXGmkq7L-YiR_4EZKPf0zw/s1600-h/Picture+032.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSbyCD5oQhXoZ8HUev0oYqpMmxPiF2C5xMOQHeR9o8_987MO4Ou7L8UzG3GXToaM-S5wCdek6ZJ_nVXawscKDPMXLMBtMLBJ6IY9XnZNj3ZZmrYnfPET9aQtx-RouXKfL3FGe2A/s1600-h/Picture+032.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxRGCkOAm9OTh_WfKSAlHgsLxV8aDDDXZq0k8FVezMrpcCGcdG1aNSq8Ocu56kmQ1I81zkTmGzZ9yFQ9biVJVQ7Ih7lhTJCAJqeOReRQ15JXX9N7x0uD0jbMKOhQowxdfgBze9A/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"></a><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqbGddXzVy98mHYnoYwvT-bzzVgv4bCILR448PoPgwpuMEw1Bz2d6cSf6Xacl8XUKgfb8sL-KQgotxbWbasML5d3Ow3tdiO-NaS83uzr0fHR2uv1dfwMFAjpmrB1F9GuMFcmYhA/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBdLAYWvCTyjMlvYZKM4P7U6USawImK3lr0aooHPSQ6gYUuCpqA2Y4Iuw-zT4NXdiuD1JtiIZANfSLvdkEQ4Kfla7TFpc_CSZjJcj_7x2IceIzddUgLXGmkq7L-YiR_4EZKPf0zw/s1600-h/Picture+032.jpg"></a>S</span></strong>aints and spiritually evolved souls have been depicted in print with a halo <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqbGddXzVy98mHYnoYwvT-bzzVgv4bCILR448PoPgwpuMEw1Bz2d6cSf6Xacl8XUKgfb8sL-KQgotxbWbasML5d3Ow3tdiO-NaS83uzr0fHR2uv1dfwMFAjpmrB1F9GuMFcmYhA/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"></a>around their heads and bodies since as long <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqbGddXzVy98mHYnoYwvT-bzzVgv4bCILR448PoPgwpuMEw1Bz2d6cSf6Xacl8XUKgfb8sL-KQgotxbWbasML5d3Ow3tdiO-NaS83uzr0fHR2uv1dfwMFAjpmrB1F9GuMFcmYhA/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"></a>as we can go back in time. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqbGddXzVy98mHYnoYwvT-bzzVgv4bCILR448PoPgwpuMEw1Bz2d6cSf6Xacl8XUKgfb8sL-KQgotxbWbasML5d3Ow3tdiO-NaS83uzr0fHR2uv1dfwMFAjpmrB1F9GuMFcmYhA/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBdLAYWvCTyjMlvYZKM4P7U6USawImK3lr0aooHPSQ6gYUuCpqA2Y4Iuw-zT4NXdiuD1JtiIZANfSLvdkEQ4Kfla7TFpc_CSZjJcj_7x2IceIzddUgLXGmkq7L-YiR_4EZKPf0zw/s1600-h/Picture+032.jpg"></a>Have you wondered what this halo, or glow, or light is all about.... this is the aura.... and, all of us have an aura which is nothing but the energy <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLLkpPmQmcU31Ri69L-e3PQqjayX6EJKdGWh95fqYpk-O91ztgb2clsBnzPQhEVDOLfM1xBwBZLRXMTZaXJqlMz1d33aZbZcYD58oGyGrw8wIS-3jZw9FREkNZurtgtpptUYGVw/s1600-h/Picture+032.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316862237553750722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLLkpPmQmcU31Ri69L-e3PQqjayX6EJKdGWh95fqYpk-O91ztgb2clsBnzPQhEVDOLfM1xBwBZLRXMTZaXJqlMz1d33aZbZcYD58oGyGrw8wIS-3jZw9FREkNZurtgtpptUYGVw/s200/Picture+032.jpg" border="0" /></a>field around us or our own unique<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNoJPRYBRnOUnDdVoShZ9CAURhOoY2rP5fizHY1KA2MqBeqz16q63y7vIUdXEt6bLjQdvRDUjkL9lh1_3Xfzf3eThXsx2TMskhUM-ThF9Xs1skcIJ1JMfpMNJpkTawM6KdFCuLA/s1600-h/Picture+029.jpg"></a> resonance. Sometimes we "catch" the resonance of others and experience telepathy with the person. But most of our eyes are not trained to "see" the aura, yet a lot of us can feel it. This is why sometimes we say we “feel” at ease being around with some people and at other times we <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg81U7GVXq_OZIE1rloR1sidNZDPmJI1Tu8UvU21AbUoA-S-GIAa2nLH0PgKzd15OUmz20ysP16bOulY6EKkP4Q-hCRBrPXkSa06aeGRnL7__hJ4wDWjgILFYZFiHpqTNrD3qKLZA/s1600-h/Picture+029.jpg"></a>are not able to trust some, despite the absense of tangible reason! Therefore, the energy field or aura is an informer of our internal states. The spiritually evolved souls with hours of meditation, have mastered the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-z0TANrQzC8Spz4zvW7l473mPFyIPCi7Yz9NwshZyL0f7mddUycPAEwe61jZ2mfsHX3-IkRtAQ1RazD7XuwnMBANsRhHLekievtzGpxNDkE8wJXba8M_d12t7jPrR0rusflfvg/s1600-h/Picture+029.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316863024851892738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-z0TANrQzC8Spz4zvW7l473mPFyIPCi7Yz9NwshZyL0f7mddUycPAEwe61jZ2mfsHX3-IkRtAQ1RazD7XuwnMBANsRhHLekievtzGpxNDkE8wJXba8M_d12t7jPrR0rusflfvg/s200/Picture+029.jpg" border="0" /></a>technique to read and interpret the energy fields of others.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I</span> </strong>started with spring time yellow and digressed to the aura, you may be thinking. Not quite, because sitting at the city park with yellow all around me and thinking of color therapy and especially the therapeutic/healing powers of the yellow color, I was also thinking about the significance of the color yellow in our auras. Here I must mention that our auras are made up of the seven rainbow colors and their different hues. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr5zPfBWjumZnd2wh8t4BwzTn0qwsejzE6koFoWFSDXmou0okRAyErhgq0cbatC0weWkeI96kHwVQwsSvKRDKnkNYRHLEdSACQDPYWtvrl-WVwDTDy3brhNNQP4XCjru5CsDr3yA/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316861017237565330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr5zPfBWjumZnd2wh8t4BwzTn0qwsejzE6koFoWFSDXmou0okRAyErhgq0cbatC0weWkeI96kHwVQwsSvKRDKnkNYRHLEdSACQDPYWtvrl-WVwDTDy3brhNNQP4XCjru5CsDr3yA/s200/Picture+028.jpg" border="0" /></a>The colors change hues depending on our internal states. Now, I am no expert at interpreting auras or anywhere near to it, but I can try. Color yellow in the aura signifies spiritual energy and awakening in the person – its various hues signify various stages of awakening and inspiration. Spiritual people are fundamentally warm, genuinely friendly, non-materialistic, happy and content, compassionate, generous, wisdom seeking types, peace seeking types, and intuitive. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9bMqmuTOnXsKiehe0cu2ZqiEHENd2Qdh2rI3mmD8xl5KNNQfNDZtVZl13KHFUylaw9TzGjU92eMzqw-RbxJ55nx31OUaJtBFinG4vB3l_BcO4tnqHmANkWAA1T3DnbvuKN6YY6g/s1600-h/Picture+034.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316867001567333458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9bMqmuTOnXsKiehe0cu2ZqiEHENd2Qdh2rI3mmD8xl5KNNQfNDZtVZl13KHFUylaw9TzGjU92eMzqw-RbxJ55nx31OUaJtBFinG4vB3l_BcO4tnqHmANkWAA1T3DnbvuKN6YY6g/s200/Picture+034.jpg" border="0" /></a>If the color yellow signifies spiritual awakening and inner peace, it is no wonder then why we feel our spirits soar on a warm, sunny-yellow day and perhaps this is the same reason that the yellow all around me in the park made me feel so much at peace.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">W</span></strong>hile aura readers assess the aura to diagnose a physical or psychological condition, color therapists provide guidance on how various colors in different ways can cure the cause of the condition. For example, the color yellow is <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgffKMnxT01-af9iFFVabKoC_nHQiNPKX5EX5abBux4l6jxDW9NdWZ0MwDJ121kbQxGmr-eHIBf7TD8vtdX6hBw3RSnGii-8su-DQHJzLtF1pHopkW045TcqnMiaTvPpxdGDdVyqg/s1600-h/Picture+021.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316868395865335682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgffKMnxT01-af9iFFVabKoC_nHQiNPKX5EX5abBux4l6jxDW9NdWZ0MwDJ121kbQxGmr-eHIBf7TD8vtdX6hBw3RSnGii-8su-DQHJzLtF1pHopkW045TcqnMiaTvPpxdGDdVyqg/s200/Picture+021.jpg" border="0" /></a>used to treat chronic depression. A color therapist/healer will counsel the person with depression on how to use yellow in his/her life to full advantage in order to increase self-esteem, courage, and optimism. The person may be advised to go on a yellow diet or drink water in which the energies of yellow have been tapped. This is very easy and can be done at home by covering a glass bottle filled with water with orange cellophane paper and leaving it in under the sun. The therapist may advice <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierGU4ZbJAlgsbOknq-CKfDQE9iFfIgr_ru4iYqKRMFzqWe7w6L7z4bJMcwVuZ6gmojbIFZy_8uu4_6BpfYw4wYFUl32cCcTrf31gI8Epa55unBY1umRd2gdDqTDwIgdb3UvjOUQ/s1600-h/Picture+033.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316870090759828130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierGU4ZbJAlgsbOknq-CKfDQE9iFfIgr_ru4iYqKRMFzqWe7w6L7z4bJMcwVuZ6gmojbIFZy_8uu4_6BpfYw4wYFUl32cCcTrf31gI8Epa55unBY1umRd2gdDqTDwIgdb3UvjOUQ/s200/Picture+033.jpg" border="0" /></a>using more of the color on one’s person as in apparels and accessories. The therapy may also include transferring the goodness of yellow crystals. Sometimes it is advised to have one part of an entire room painted yellow. Last here but this is not the end, a person with chronic depression may be guided to meditate on the color yellow. As in, the healer may ask the person to close the eyes and imagine being enveloped in yellow light. This is called visualization or channeling which is done to tap and source the universal energies within oneself.</span><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">O</span></strong>rdinarily, yellow can be worn in apparels and accessories when you want to feel bright and cheery. I have worn yellow to uplift my mood at times, and I wonder whether you have, too :-)</span></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-73348571657688692072009-03-18T01:09:00.017+05:302009-03-20T02:00:31.068+05:30Mad Dogs and a White woman<span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>T</strong></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong>he </strong>title of my post is inspired by the title of the autobiography of <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Mad-Dogs-Englishwoman-Crystal-Rogers/dp/0140297332"><span style="color:#3333ff;">Crystal Rogers</span></a>. The autobiography is called – Mad Dogs and an Englishwoman. On one of my tours around the city, I saw this extraordinary sight for which I couldn’t find a more apt caption – Mad Dogs and a White woman:</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314261104242749810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKBhVT_wRGb_eOttnD3DxRj_0u_FJgBw0EuEmXhDcTO-qHN6PSLiadYGwkptbhZggaRlGtk8N0qlBYYO4X8-EYyZDLN4CFAzFR7EJZLzKTI6xC19uyXS8I7KvSwM-0FBWOUjNKw/s400/IMG_0341.JPG" border="0" /><br />I took this shot from hundreds of meters away with a zoom lens which is why the images are not as sharp as I would have liked them to be. Clicking pictures from close quarters may have made the trio conscious of a stranger. Also, my behavior would have been outright intrusive, so I decided to intrude from meters away.... what to do, the temptation was too much.... !<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314261748953696098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid33-uVRQLHYIJtkKHLmAti0Zm4zzyVO44X4fzpSp8irNeHvkB_2XvtjjzcX8M5YsHVCV8KsiQcAkOkRQXqM8Ys2nVMRSgpvMDhgTJbMEtv4jl03yaGcXXcdIHjLRIPhP0IDM-3g/s400/IMG_0342.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p><span style="font-size:100%;">When I passed by the trio and was within earshot, I heard the lady humming. The melody, in a flash transported me back to my Class V school room where we learnt Wordsworth’s – The Solitary Reaper. The sense of melancholy in the lady’s tune was akin to the sense I got from the poem two decades back! It would be charitable to say that I was “amazed”. It was more than that, I do not have the appropriate words. Like connecting to a forgotton thread.<br /><span style="color:#999900;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"></span><span style="font-size:100%;">I am sure the lady was not English (I have reasons to think she was from Israel), so I think it is fair to call her the “white woman”. The dogs are “mad” because I think all dogs are mad. To my mind, dogs are one of the craziest creations of Nature. Crazy, coz they are capable of snuggling up to you even if you have shouted at them. Crazy, coz they are capable of protecting you even if you have been mean to them. Crazy, coz they are capable of dropping their egos and apologizing first. And, crazy coz they are capable of listening unconditionally to your </span><a href="http://www.geocities.com/plt_2000plt_us/englam/wrd-5.html"><span style="color:#3333ff;">melancholic strains....</span></a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-12690320995706268102009-03-05T10:35:00.005+05:302009-03-18T20:22:58.474+05:30Pakistan, fond memories<strong><span style="font-size:180%;">W</span></strong>hen I read or hear about <em>one more</em> evidence pointing towards the turmoil in Pakistan, it reminds me of my visit to the country in 2004. I feel so sorry that evidence has begun to come at a rapid pace. The memories of my visit leap up in my consciousness and I so much wish that the present was just a nightmare.<br /><br />I had the opportunity to visit Pakistan for a month in 2004 of which I stayed mostly in Muree and a week or so between Islamabad, Rawalpindi, and Lahore. Muree, a charming hill resort, a little more than an hour drive from Islamabad has given me the gift of friendship of some lovely people from Pakistan. I have sat on its soil and watched the sun rise and depart behind the mountains for days together. Walking in the woods of Muree I would think – how do I call this leaf fallen on the ground a “Pakistani leaf” or the pine tree yonder a “Pakistani pine tree”. Silly thoughts. But the boundaries were muddled in my head.<br /><br />Pakistan and Bangladesh have always been fabled lands in my mindscape. Perhaps because we were One at one time until a bloody separation tore us apart. I was not born at that time as me but I am sure something somewhere has remained from a past lifetime to make me feel the bond. The details of my stay in Pakistan come back vividly. I cannot forget the shopkeepers in Lahore who declined money in exchange of the purchases I made. I was a “mehmaan” they said. They had left behind their families in India, they told me – members of the family who could not cross over to the other side at the time of partition. Some had left behind their property, land, everything. I had come from the land they were forced to abandon. Perhaps I represented nostalgia for them, a remembrance of the good times, of togetherness with their own. I cannot forget the roadside vendor selling pistachios on the streets of Muree who insisted that I keep the packet I had picked up as a gift from him. I cannot forget the gentleman behind the counter at the Islamabad airport who waived off tariff on my extra luggage with a smile. I also cannot forget the hospitality of the Pakistani people – of the many at whose homes I stayed. Driving down the manicured streets of Islamabad or shopping in the narrow lanes of Lahore or smelling the wondrous mountain air in Muree, I remember the feeling of gay abandon – boundaries, there were none. After the visit, I never believed any jingoism against Pakistan.<br /><br />Now, I worry about my friends there. I wonder whether they still feel safe in those sensuous Islamabadi-style shalwar-kurtas that showed off those lovely feminine ankles. I wonder whether they are still able to drive down anytime they wished to the gorgeous ice cream parlors in Islamabad. I wonder whether they feel safe in the work they do to empower their country people. When they don’t write for a long time, I wonder about their access rights to the internet.<br /><br />With the Pakistani government doing little to help the 26/11 probes, with the shocking news of the Taliban taking over the Swat valley, with the bombs going off in the towns and cities ever so frequently, with the murder of every voice that dares to dissent, and now with the attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team, my heart sinks. I wish the trees and the mountains in the countryside where the militants hide would speak up. I wish they would not stand there mute watching those men prepare themselves for doom. Silly thoughts. Has the weight of negative karmas become so great that balance has tilted in favor of devastation and violence? I wonder whether I can ever go back to Pakistan and feel the gay abandon all over again. I wish people will not hate Pakistan in these terrible times. I really wish the trees would speak up.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-75053827920905523532009-02-26T01:51:00.004+05:302009-03-04T23:29:02.252+05:30Jai ho<strong><span style="font-size:180%;">A</span></strong>fter the triumph of Slumdog Millionaire at the Oscars, lots have been said and written about the film and lots is still being said and written. I wish to add a penny worth of my reflections too. I have already said in this space that I loved the film. I watched it at a time when it was lesser known, not received any award, and was not released in India. Now when I see it with the hype I still love it, maybe more. I am excited. So, what is it that I want to say?<br /><br />In the last two days I have been reflecting on people’s reactions to the film after it won eight Oscars. Sadly, apart from the excited TV channels and those they interview, I haven’t had the opportunity to speak to anyone from my day-to-day life echoing the excitement I feel. Some are ambivalent, many critical. This has made me reflect on the act of expressing joy. And I am wondering why the expression of unadulterated joy difficult to come by? Must heady thought play spoilsport?<br /><br />I dialed a friend immediately after the eighth and last award for the film had been announced. I just wanted to share my elation. “You know there is politics behind this”, was the response from the other end. I said I will call her again later. I was in no mood for politics. Later on I thought. A lot of institutions in this world have politics operating in the background. Politics of war. Politics of hate. Politics of power. Even politics of love. There is politics in our little households and workplaces, everyday. So what’s new if there is politics behind Oscar selections? If whatever politics put a beaming Rubina and Azharuddin – kids who have lived 9-11 years of their life next to open drains – on the Oscar stage, should we condemn that politics?<br /><br />“Rubina and Azhar being on stage does not change anything. What about the thousands of other people living in slums?” was another opinion that another person expressed. But this is weird. The film is a work of art; it did not start out with the promise of changing anything. It is not a social/political movement. But does it not bring pride to the heart to think that the two kids who acted in the film and live in slums, never attended school in their little life, vulnerable at every point – will now receive formal education and upon reaching the age of 18, will be entitled to a sum of 25 lakh each to pursue higher education. I support the fact that they were not paid huge sums of money to act in the film – the money which under all probability would have been passed on to their caretakers. Now at least things are set and set in their best interests – the right to receive education.<br /><br />Also, doesn’t the achievement of kids living in slums do something to our class mentality? For example, does it not bring to light the ingenuity and brilliance of people living in the “slums”. Doesn’t the fact that the conditions of birth can be changed, triumph?<br /><br />Some of the people I spoke to said they are “ashamed” of Indian poverty having been shown in the film and have “it” (poverty) receive international awards. In other words they are ashamed of the “slums”. Ashamed of the <em>people</em> who live in the slums. But what right have we to be ashamed of anyone? This is showing sheer disrespect and sheer arrogance. We are not ashamed to hire domestic help from these very slums. Slums are a part of India and will remain so till skewed economic/social/development policies rule the land. Why does a single cricketer earn crores for his presence on the field for a few hours and the thousands of Rubinas and Azharuddins struggle for the basic amenities of life?<br /><br />I was surprised that even A R Rehman’s recognitions were not wholeheartedly accepted. “He has composed much better music”, came as a whiff of opinion. But then no Tamil or Hindi film he composed for has been nominated for the Oscars. So where does the question of him receiving an Oscar before this arise? One person even said that Ilaiyaraja, Guru to Rehman should have been awarded instead!<br /><br />Now, before this gets hilarious, I must stop. There were many other observations on similar lines and when I think about them, I want to ask the same question I started off with. Why is the expression of unadulterated joy difficult to come by? Must heady thought play spoilsport? I hope we are not denying ourselves the right to feel pure joy and revel in the success of people without asking too many politically correct questions.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-51292050932505408202009-02-19T00:34:00.004+05:302009-03-04T23:26:47.257+05:30Post at the time of pandemonium<strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I</span></strong> am writing this post as an outcome of Munchmany’s comment on my last post. “Please do write more...” she implored! Munchmany – a good colleague and regular visitor to my blog.<br /><br />Since the end of last week, I have not been able to visit blogs – neither mine nor anyone else’s. It is the usual – I have been totally consumed with office work! I do not fancy such times but they come when their time is due (sadly). The surge of work creates nothing less than pandemonium in my peaceful existence. I start to perceive everything as really BIG and really STRANGE than how I would see them under normal circumstances. The pandemonium starts at the workplace and consumes all my waking hours, not to mention my sleeping hours too.<br /><br />Last night I had a nightmare of having lost our family dog, Budi Boo to a strange curse that seemed straight out of a science fiction! I woke up only to realize that I was having a nightmare! Strange, but Thank God!<br /><br />I am a one-member team in a project with two parallel running courses. No one thinks that there should be another team member because I am performing the task of three people. Because I don’t ask, I don’t get. Deliveries are talking place smoothly but I am being asked to “contribute” more. Because I contribute more than asked, I am asked to “contribute” even more! Strange! Strange! Strange!<br /><br />Over the weekend when I opened my bag to pull out my ATM card, I got one big shock of my life! There it was within its cover but vertically split into two pieces. I ran over the events in my mind to locate what could have brought about the extraordinary state my card is in. The only event I remembered was my falling over a few glass steps at a showroom and falling on my bag. Why do I have this puzzling connection with glass!? Strange!<br /><br />I was meeting up with a friend on Valentines Day who announced that she is getting married very soon. I thought she is tying the knot with her last boyfriend who I had come to know of through her unending stories. She laughed me away and announced that this is an arranged match she is getting into because “he” cooks well and has promised to cook all throughout their married life. Times have changed! Strange!<br /><br />Speaking of Valentine’s Day, the hullabaloo created over it by the <em>goondas</em> (aka the moral policing brigade) in the society seemed to fall flat. I went out into the city that day and it looked like any other normal day. At least on Diwali day the entire city is decked up. I am sure it is a very small percentage of people in this country who have any notion about Valentine’s Day! What is this talk of Valentine’s Day invading our culture, if at all it does! Awfully strange!<br /><br />During this period I watched a documentary titled, “White Light, Black Rain,” a poignant compilation of the voices of the Japanese people affected by the atom bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the fag end of World War-II. Most of these people are old now but they carry scars of the devastation on their bodies and minds. The documentary is a powerful caution about what can happen as a consequence of a nuclear war. In the documentary, young men and women from Hiroshima are interviewed and asked what they think about dropping the bombs on their land. All of them looked at each other and drew a blank; they said they cannot recall having heard about the bombs being dropped in their country. That was simply strange!<br /><br />One of these days, I heard that the domestic help at my parent’s has been caught red handed slipping out money from my father’s purse. The reason for worry was that they did not dismiss her! Amid media reports about the various risks senior citizens living alone face, a domestic help indulging in theft was indeed a cause for worry. Soon, more information about the help started pouring in from the neighborhood – she is known to have hidden valuables inside dustbins conveniently seizing them when she went out of the house to empty the bin. Considering that she is quite a well-to-do person with no apparent un-met economic needs, I wonder if she is a kleptomaniac. I wonder whether there is a cure. Strange obsession.<br /><br />Last but not the least, that I could write a post at the time of pandemonium is plainly strange. Thank you Munchmany.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-73194165818264221272009-02-11T15:41:00.007+05:302009-03-25T11:29:40.703+05:30The Tomato Smiled<strong><span style="font-size:180%;">T</span></strong>his morning as I was slicing up a tomato to place inside my sandwich, it smiled. “It” means the Tomato. You don’t believe? I too did not, but see below, it did smile. Please focus on the center.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301485050121791682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKQ2vyf5S_OULde6bCd2XSjnwobFr5LczhvYYakynNd43clMKelcorFckTWmslKIRPpQJHOB3a2DdyvW8NBCEHvMpis8gGjkazVHv5gM0qudQVN2hUg3tWaFfl2LYViqB1-NuJA/s400/tomato+smiley.jpg" border="0" /><br />At first, I did not believe the Tomato smiled at me. I checked the slice I had cut out before, I cut another to check – but neither had the same smile! This miracle has left me feeling good. Last night I remember feeling very agitated about the issue of “moral policing” threatening the freedom of the Indian women. This is no ordinary smile: I feel Tomato wants to tell me to take it easy, breathe deeply, and focus on the positive – focus on what we have, focus on our collective strengths, and never say die. I get the message dear little red wonder!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-16120060805709368182009-01-29T18:05:00.007+05:302009-03-18T20:23:42.424+05:30Nuisance, who?<p><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I</span></strong>t brings immense relief to learn that the Supreme Court has given a stay in appeal against the ill-considered ruling of the Bench of the Bombay High Court to kill all “nuisance” dogs in Bombay (23/Jan 09). It is unfortunate that the High Court did not acknowledge a central legislation. The Supreme Court guidelines decree that if and only a dog is found rabid or mortally wounded or incurably ill, can it be taken and euthanized as per the rules and guidelines.<br /><br />Nuisance dogs have been defined by the Bombay Municipal Corporation (BMC) as dogs that “bark” and “chase” motorists. While both characteristics are true of dogs, I fail to see how that becomes a reason to exterminate the dogs. Just like human beings, no dog is same – each has a distinct personality. Some are reticent; some aggressive. There are many dogs of both kinds in the locality where I live. On some days, in the dead of the night, they start to bark. Their barks have often woken me up and I have wondered what they are howling at. I tell myself that they must have good reasons to howl and I am able to sleep peacefully. They have never harmed any resident in this area. All of them appear healthy and some lucky ones are regularly fed by the resident families. When young children in the house cry and throw tantrums, their families do not consider snuffing out their lives do they...., humans do and say a number of things that can be termed as “nuisance”, but we do not talk of putting them to sleep, do we? People! You are not the only ones living on this planet and you are not the central point of Creation either, where have you dumped the humanly virtues of <strong>tolerance</strong>, <strong>compassion</strong>, and <strong>humility</strong>? Why make a big issue out of dogs that bark?!<br /><br />A few days ago, I saw a group of four dogs barking and chasing a car. The car was moving pretty dangerously and on looking closely I found it jam packed with hooligan-type men. I am proud of the dogs that barked and chased them out of the locality!<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">T</span></strong>he issue in this case is perhaps of the large number of street dogs in Bombay. But, have we ever considered why? Studies have revealed that the population of street dogs is directly proportional to the volume of unattended garbage in the city. These studies are an outcome of the perseverance of animal lovers; especially in the city of Chennai. The city Corporation in Chennai had been pursuing the policy of mass killing of street dogs since the time of Independence. Ironically, the population of the street dogs never reduced! After consistent lobbying with the Corporation of Chennai, the animal activists were successful in pursuing it to drop the killer methods and instead resort to systematic sterilization and anti-rabies vaccination programmes to control the street dog population. Since the time the two programmes have started in Chennai, there has been a sharp decline in the cases of rabies in the city. The cities of Bangalore, Jaipur, and Hyderabad also run similar programmes for street dogs. As a result, all these cities haven’t seen any rabies-related deaths over the past five years. </p><p>Why does the BMC that has a municipal budget of more than some small countries in the world hesitate to sterilize and vaccinate the 70,000 dogs it claims to have? Why should the dogs have to die because of redtapism? With lofty examples in the country, why is the BMC inclined on going the Shanghai way, what is wrong with them – why have they dumped their brains and locked their hearts in the closet! What kind of heroism is involved in launching an offensive on a defenseless population? Surely, Indians should know better – who have suffered in the hands of oppressors since ages. I cannot help but draw a parallel between the Bombay HC order with the scourge that caused women to be forcefully burnt on the funeral pyres of their dead husbands in this very country more than a century back. It is the same mindset at work – the mindset of the dominant class (now mixed with capitalist thought) to wipe out anything or anyone they consider as the "other". </p><p>People; please focus on who the real nuisance is! Rest assured, whoever it is, we will not move a PIL to kill them!</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-15540066595513700202009-01-20T00:55:00.004+05:302009-03-04T23:31:13.214+05:30Hoping Audaciously<em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">T</span></strong>oday</em>, on the twentieth day of the year two thousand and nine, one prominent thought will emanate from the bosom of the earth and envelope all its beings in a warm, assuring embrace: <em>Hope</em>. The reason for the thought will take the Presidential oath for the highest office in the nucleus of world power: <em>America</em>. The reason: <em>Mr. Barak Obama</em>.<br /><br />Hope. America. Obama. Can this combination change the world? Today is the day to hope daringly and to flaunt that we can hope! And why not, we have good reasons to! What a historic victory that was—the first colored man chosen as the head of the state in a land that abolished slavery not very long ago!<br /><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I</span></strong>n</em> his last address to the nation, Mr. George Bush said that he did what his “conscience” told him is right. I’m afraid that in saying so, Mr. Bush hasn’t at the slightest got the real meaning of the word, “conscience”. Conscience—simply translated into having a sense of right and wrong comes from a deep voice within—that one hears only when one listens to the heart. The (His) heart couldn’t have told Mr. Bush to launch an assault against Iraq and Afghanistan killing thousands of its civilian population, loot the world’s natural resources by exploiting the less powerful nations, militarize the world with deadly nuclear weapons, bully countries to become partners in committing global crimes, ravage old civilizations, obstruct free media, promote economies that makes people hapless consumers without scruples, and many more! Sorry Mr. Bush, beg to defer there, it wasn’t your conscience that led you, it was simply your greed for power—a deathly sickness of the mind that you must really consider looking deeply into. Therefore, Mr. Bush, if you think its your “conscience” which guided you to drop illegal weapons on innocent civilian populations and make their lives miserable for generations to come, then it is not difficult to see what kind of people you had envisioned (hardly the right word for your scary designs) would inhabit the Universe.<br /><br />Finally, I want to ask Mr. Bush when he said in the same address to his nation that he had to take some “tough decisions”. If that were so, then why do we hear that the Taliban has spread its fangs and its militants are a few kilometers away from our closest border with Pakistan? Mr. Bush, you tried to strangle the spirit of Sufi Islam, your policies have given rise to Jihadi Islam and made Muslims all over the world insecure than they ever were before! Why weren’t some real “tough decisions” taken to dissipate the Taliban movement? I’m afraid Mr. Bush has got it wrong again; I don’t mean “tough decisions” are equated with “mindless violence”!!<br /><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">H</span></strong>ope.</em> America. Obama: Can the past be redeemed…. today, as Mr. Obama takes oath, I’m sure many of us will listen to him with a lump in our throats and we will believe every word he utters. Today, we will hope audaciously.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Footnote:</strong> The title of this post is inspired from the title of the bestseller, “The Audacity of Hope” by Barak Obama, published in 2006.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-75725589529948766242009-01-15T01:23:00.002+05:302009-03-19T00:23:45.919+05:30Angels in the City<em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">O</span></strong>n</em> some evenings when I pass by the main Thiruvanmimur bus stop in Chennai, a blessed sight greets me—a fleeting view of the top of a head with snow-white hair, surrounded by more than a dozen wagging tails. I consider those days as lucky. The head belongs to Mrs. B and the tails to none other than the street dogs of the area. The dogs stand huddled around Mrs. B to receive their daily meal of rice and eggs. Each day, many people witness this act of kindness. People say that Mrs. B has been feeding street dogs for more than 40 years! Moved by the initiative, one day, I decide to donate to Mrs. B's charity. But local people warn me against it. Mrs. B does not accept donations. Each time I pass her by, I am seized by a fervent question, "O Mrs. B, the chosen one, where comes your motivation from?" But, I cannot speak Tamil and Tamil is what she is conversant with.<br /><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">T</span></strong>here</em> is a dog that looks at me with expressive eyes as I board my office bus. Each time I turn back from inside the bus, I find her gazing at me until either of us disappears from sight. I have often wondered what she may be thinking. One day, inspired by Mrs. B, I purchase a bun for the dog and just before getting into my bus, I offer it to her. She gazes at me some more before accepting the bun. As I look back from inside the bus, I see her chomping away, never for once unlocking her eyes with me, until we both are out of sight. Thus, feeding the dog becomes a daily ritual. Some more join in! I thank Mrs. B for the joy she brought me.<br /><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">O</span></strong>ne</em> evening as I am shopping for provisions, I am approached by a distinguished looking lady, "I have seen you feeding dogs. I am a dog lover…. would you like to come home for a cup of coffee?" Impulsively, I agree, my heart doing a little somersault with joy. Her house is around the corner—a duplex with a big garden. As she opens the entrance door, I gasp at the sight inside! At least six pairs of doggy eyes stare at me from bodies comfortably nestled on cushions. The lady laughs and invites me to come inside. Over coffee, she tells me that she has twelve dogs in her house—all rescued from various life and health threatening situations. Some are pedigree dogs abandoned on the streets by the owners while some are simply streets dogs brought in for a loving home. Suddenly, four young dogs come scampering into the room, bestowing the lady with their lavish kisses. I am told they are siblings. My eyes well up when I am further told that they were found inside a gunny bag thrown by the sea-side when they were pups—pups small enough to be held in the palm of the hand.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-7934180062133612352009-01-07T19:01:00.003+05:302009-03-04T23:31:40.432+05:30Five Movies<strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I</span></strong>n 2008 I watched a large number of movies – mostly Bollywood and very few foreign ones. From those I saw, I thought I want to make a list of the ones I liked most and ones that would be at the tip of my tongue if I were to recommend. Here I present my list which is in no particular order of priority. I am not describing the storylines because I don’t intend to present a review – I only want to record what it was in each of the movies that touched me. Some of the films may not have been released in 2008 but I had the opportunity of watching them in 2008 – this is my basis of including them in my list. Also, my list is irrespective of how each fared at the box office or how it appealed to the larger mass of movie goers.<br /><br /><strong>Dasvidanya</strong><br />This movie made me cry. No, not because the main protagonist dies in the end. Sometimes when you see too much of beauty and aesthetics around you – you cry. The movie is based on a very simple story told in an extraordinarily simple manner – that’s where its beauty lies, I think. The character of Amar, the main protagonist is marked by goodness – such people are rare. I felt like holding death’s hand to prevent Amar from getting consumed by it so that I can get the chance to see more of him in action! I watched this movie in a theatre and remember feeling the involvement of the rest of the people gathered there. The feeling was quite palpable. In fact it was interesting to note that after the film got over and as the credits came along, for a few minutes people were still seated – were they mentally chalking their “to do” list before they die? Likely, coz I was doing the same.<br /><br /><strong>A Wednesday</strong><br />This is a terrific thriller with a social message. When I had seen it in October last, a part of me had wanted to shower the “common man” with accolades knowing too well that in real life such drama is far from possible. Now after ten heavily armed men walked into the country through the sea route wrecking havoc for nearly three days thereafter, the same part of me wants to believe that the common man can do it! Strange na, there is still a part of me that screams – “kill ‘em all!!!!”, knowing very well that violence is not the solution neither becoming of the human race. Anyway, coming back to the movie, it is one hell of a must watch. I felt that Naseeruddin Shah or the common man’s dialogues towards the end of the movie binds and seals the plot like a <em>fevicol ka jode</em>. The movie left me spell bound.<br /><br /><strong>Khuda key Liyae</strong><br />This is a Pakistani production directed by Shoaib Mansoor – his debut film. Once again, Naseeruddin Shah as Moulana Wali dazzles with this speech in the court of law. The story weaves and presents some stark realities in Pakistani society – of gender-based biases, of gender-based violence, of youngsters becoming Kasab-like, of the post 9/11 western biases against practitioners of Islam, etc. How these factors affect the lives of the protagonists is poignantly told. Despite the melancholy, I could not stop watching the film. You just want to “get to the bottom of it!” Moulana Wali’s speech makes you wish that you knew more than the basic Urdu [:-)]. Yet, you get the crux and you wish he’d not stop talking. This film also makes you want to reach out to the people of Pakistan – so torn by destructive influences in their society – some influences from outside and most from within – in the form of regressive fundamentalists, customs, and politicians. At the end of the movie, you too join everybody else in saying a silent prayer for Shaan played by Mansoor and earnestly hope that he gets well soon.<br /><br /><strong>Welcome to Sajjanpur<br /></strong>This is one movie that left me with a smile. Well, it’s categorized as a comedy film; it ought to make you smile. Well, I am talking of the lingering smile – when you think about something long after it’s over and it still makes you feel amused. But this is not a comedy film, strictly speaking. It is not mindless comedy, how can it be with Shyam Benegal having directed it. With great storytelling, various social issues from widow remarriage to forceful land acquisition are woven into the narrative with wonderful humor. Some turns in the movie are poignant – something that I believe strums a chord in your heart and makes the experience of watching this movie wholesome. Here, the main protagonist, Mahadev played by Shreyas Talpade is an immensely talented guy who has a way with both the spoken and written word. Mahadev comes across as such a darling.<br /><br /><strong>Rock On</strong><br />I simply loved the maturity with which this film has been presented. And I simply loved Farhan Akhtar crooning. If the film is about relationships, their portrayal and depth is commendable. Each performance I felt is brilliant. All the characters seem to have got into the skin of their roles. Newcomer Prachi Desai who played the role of Sakshi Shroff is so very fine – she has lived up to the depth demanded by her character. If the film is about a rock band, then they look like a real time rock band! I wish that Luke Kenny's character did not have to die in the end. Is it because he did not have a partner? Bollywood still has to answer that.<br /><br /><strong>Slum Dog Millionaire</strong><br />“What a plot!!” this was my first reaction to the movie. After seeing this masterpiece of a movie, I couldn’t help feeling proud that I watched it. But wait, I was not involved in its making in any manner, so why was I feeling so overwhelmed and proud!?! It is the same “Dasvidanya effect”!! What is so beautiful about the movie is its compelling storytelling. I saw the movie with a friend brought up in Germany and found myself explaining the meaning and implication of “riots” and of the significance of “Ram” in this land! We were so involved, we wanted Jamal (the main protagonist) to get all the answers right! At the same time I was thinking, you don’t need formal education to win contests, you need intelligence – the intelligence to assimilate the inputs from the environment around you. Most of the life events of little Jamal that helped him answer the questions were unfortunate – so I also wonder about the many people in this country for whom daily life is a struggle against so many odds. This is the last movie of 2008 that I saw. With this level of storytelling, I earnestly look forward to the releases of 2009.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-79016783059987830362008-12-31T13:10:00.006+05:302009-02-12T10:52:10.844+05:30God, Please Save the Little Bunnies<strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I</span></strong> want to begin this New Year with a prayer for the all the animals that inhabit this planet. I also pray for a compassionate and Violence-Free world. I pray that may we as humans – the most advanced creations of Nature – acquire a collective sensitivity to understand the full implications of how our actions affect other living beings around us – both animals as well as other humans. The chaos all around us is certainly not a proof of our evolved status as human beings.<br /><br />Coming back to animals, one piece of news brought me some cheer last week. Donna Karan, owner of the DKNY <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_CnJmTv1njA6GrF4aDxCAWjIKiO7X2YDYczLNvV4LdF0Lfu5rUd93d-fBrokyI4FI1gDlmmecAnDgjcccmAxyd5VhBfZ417t6rYXIar4-VFmfa2UutfOyB6oA-gTrHrqTzCvMQ/s1600-h/bunny.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285857647414622034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 197px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_CnJmTv1njA6GrF4aDxCAWjIKiO7X2YDYczLNvV4LdF0Lfu5rUd93d-fBrokyI4FI1gDlmmecAnDgjcccmAxyd5VhBfZ417t6rYXIar4-VFmfa2UutfOyB6oA-gTrHrqTzCvMQ/s400/bunny.jpg" border="0" /></a>(Donna Karan New York) fashion brand finally promised publicly (on 22nd Dec, 2008) that she will not use fur for her 2009 creations or use fur anytime in the future. This comes after PETA’s (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) directed campaign against Karan’s use of fur for her fashion label. Karan had been charged with systematic butchering of little rabbits like the one in the picture. Rabbits are routinely skinned alive by the “violent and bloody” fur industry.<br /><br />This significant declaration from Karan comes after a sustained campaign led by people sensitive to the cause of animals. The people protested outside the designer’s boutique and crashed into her runaway shows to raise awareness against her cruel use of fur. A website – DonnaKaranBunnyButcher.com – (now offline) was launched to expose how little rabbits are tortured to death. The well known American fashion consultant, Tim Gunn also joined the campaign and sent videos to Karan depicting the cruel treatment of animals by the fashion industry. This video also for consumers, helps us make informed choices before buying clothing and accessories made from fur, wool, and leather. The video is available at the PETA site and is too horrific. I couldn’t watch it beyond a point and the little that I did caused me much depression and made me feel so very ashamed of my brethren.<br /><br />It is heartening to know that Donna Karan has followed in the footsteps of designers such as Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, and Calvin Klein who have already stopped using fur. Another battle is being waged. This time it is with Armani who has till date refused to stop his complicity in the killing of innocent animals for profit as he continues to fuel the insane passions of wo(men). Even Tim Gunn’s appeal to Armani has fallen on deaf ears. At times like this, I wish I was in primary or middle school blissfully tucked in a dream world with Enid Blytons and Nancy Drews and Hardy Boys and fairy tales. There are too many cruel and painful things I know about the world now.<br /><br />God, please save the little bunnies.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://getactive.peta.org/campaign/armani_fur_investigation"><strong>Appeal to Armani</strong></a><strong> </strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyguLml-VK2KAWgiHQqp_GDLUvwlHMAS_MwWeccyasttb8E3odNEkw33uqvzLRoaT2aOz06TrGXOmKBf4OtkW8_YBHbEOv53Lb5BD_E6uKXZHJoitIlO_KURVfe3h8njSBMQBKYw/s1600-h/100-BU171.jpg"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285857137977280610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 100px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyguLml-VK2KAWgiHQqp_GDLUvwlHMAS_MwWeccyasttb8E3odNEkw33uqvzLRoaT2aOz06TrGXOmKBf4OtkW8_YBHbEOv53Lb5BD_E6uKXZHJoitIlO_KURVfe3h8njSBMQBKYw/s400/100-BU171.jpg" border="0" /></strong></a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-56387804404980139862008-12-23T14:34:00.005+05:302008-12-23T14:45:25.885+05:30Of the Tamil Tongue<strong><span style="font-size:180%;">S</span>ix</strong> months old in the city of Chennai and I can boast of some familiarity with the Tamil language. At least I no longer think of “po” as an abuse word! Early this year when I was not even a month old in the city, I was rudely shouted at by a stout auto rickshaw driver who suddenly appeared in front of me from the wrong side. “Po!”, he thundered. I stopped in my tracks and let him pass. I walked back where I lived feeling very low for being shouted at. Not being able to keep it to myself, I blurted out the incident to my local host. I was not prepared for her reaction – the lady laughed heartily for a full half minute. Then, amidst crackles, she finally said, ‘”Po” means “go” in Tamil, the auto rickshaw driver wanted you to go first!” She laughed even more at my saucer eyes at the revelation.<br /><br />I resolved that I must learn Tamil, at least the basics. Next day, I related the incident to my colleagues at office and laughed with them. ‘”Wanga” is the opposite of “po”’, they helpfully supplemented. I will surely remember the Tamil word for “come”, I thought to myself. I made the “wang” from “Wang’s Beauty Parlor” opposite where I live as the anchor point. I had begun to delight in my method of learning Tamil.<br /><br />At the residence of my local host, two serials are watched on daily basis – “Arasi” and “Kolam”, and one weekly dance program, “Maanada-Mayilda”. I also watch them over dinner with the rest of the family. My brain connects the oft-repeated words, and I must say that now I have an impressive collection of words in Tamil whose meanings I know! The three words that top the list are – “rombha” – meaning “very much”, “a lot”, “many”. In its many manifestations, the one that is clearest to me is in the expression, “Rombha thanks!”<br /><br />The second word is “saapaad”. It is a ubiquitous word, as common as “po” and “wanga”. I hear it not only in the serials but also several times during the course of the day. This is a word not to be missed. “Saapaad” means food. The third word is “sollunga”, means “to say” or “to tell”. I coax an answer from my host’s two and a half year old who is learning to speak English, “Nikkie, what are you doing sollunga……” He doles me out his standard answer, “I am standing”, he prattles, as he removes his mouth from the feeding bottle to answer me.<br /><br />This is one part of the story. It is another matter that when I open my mouth to flaunt some of my knowledge of Tamil words, I am either laughed at by the light-hearted or given a Pickering-like lecture for the abuse of the Tamil tongue, by natives in serious love with the language.<br /><br />All said and done, I take the cake in the end. Even the Higgins and the Pickerings look at me with awe for knowing the meanings of “maanada” and “mayilda”. Why, that is easy, what else do you call a deer-and-a-peacock-like dance in Tamil :-)<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Notes:</strong> The words "maan" and "mayil" in Tamil translates into "deer" and "peacock", respectively. "Ada" translates to "dance".</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-48490797400473581112008-10-16T15:36:00.005+05:302009-03-04T23:32:23.692+05:30Password + Confirm + Delete<strong>LAST MONTH</strong>, I said farewell to a 3-year long alliance. It was difficult to let go but I was able to do it. Time made it considerably easy. When I look back, in these three years, the first two were like a party. However, the last one year was marked by suspicions, doubts, apprehensions, fear, anxiety, fickleness, boredom, refusal to comply, etc., etc., etc. One fine day last month, it took one trigger to end it all.<br /><br />Now that all is over, and considering that it took a while to decide to split, I don’t feel any bitterness. In fact, I have rid myself of many guilt traps. The time is not right, the time is past "right", I have told myself.<br /><br />I have rid myself of the guilt of not answering text messages, of not returning phone calls, of not trying hard enough, and of having “grown up”. I accept that there are many other people, including my own friends who are having a ball of a time. Long live their unions and re-unions. For me it is a no turning back!<br /><br />It was good while it lasted. It brought some important people back into my life. Needless to say I put in a lot of efforts to find them and I am happy that I found them—people I have shared my tiffin with 18 years ago, people I have created sweet memories with before disappearing for an intermittent period....... what more can I ask for.......<br /><br />Well if you have not guessed it already, here comes the clincher...... LAST MONTH, I deleted my Orkut. It wasn’t too difficult. Password + Confirm + Delete!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-31433805470353157912008-07-09T17:16:00.015+05:302009-03-18T20:24:28.233+05:30Daisy - IV<strong>Questions</strong><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">M</span>D thinks I am making excuses. Only she can think so, with an empire under her feet. I too have a little kingdom, except that it is of a different kind. Also, it comes minus leisure internet hours.<br /><br />Back to where I left. Its now been more than four months since I have known Daisy. In the meantime, there have been more four-legged additions to the gang: Poppy, Rani, Blackie, Bhootni, and one more who I am yet to name (I seem to wait for the right name). It is difficult to tell whether I have adopted the dogs or the dogs have adopted me. So it is appropriate to say that we have adopted each other. Poppy is one year and something old (so I think) and the darling of the lane. She has other benefactors too. She "pops" up from nowhere and looks as fresh as a flower, always. Hence the name Poppy. I have known Rani for as long as I have known Daisy. She is small and lives in perpectual fear of something. She is like a hermit, looks like she has left everything to the Universe. She looks forlorn and hence the name Rani.<br /><br />I am inspired by the story of a dog who was admitted to the Blue Cross hospital after she was paralyzed in an accident. She could not sit or stand and took her feeds laying on the ground. She looked a ghastly sight with injuries all over her body. An Australian lady and her two children – volunteers at Blue Cross, fell in love with the dog and started feeding it the best dog foods. The lady told me that the feed was imported from Australia. They named her Princess. Blessed by the grace of the Australian family, Princess put up a fight against all odds and one day to everyone's joy and relief she could sit up. The Australian family took her home.<br /><br />Do I notice any change in Rani? Yes, now she stands her ground when bullied by other dogs, at least.<br /><br />Blackie gets her name because she is black all over. She also has jet black eyes that twinkle like little stars. Bhootni is the cutest, the naughtiest, and the most playful of the lot. She is forever hungry (therefore the name) and tries to stick her nose into my bag whenever she gets an opportunity. When I pull her ears, she jumps in delight. She is a funny dog who shadows me everywhere. I have to hide behind the cars and sneak out of her sight when I can do without her company. Also, she is the one who creates the maximum racket. The one that I am yet to name shares characteristics somewhat similar to Rani.<br /><br />Very recently, I realized that my movements are being watched. After all, why would some one want to spend a substantial amount of her time with dogs? Street dogs at that. It seems that people have decided that it is high time they got it all out from the horse’s mouth.<br /><br /><em>“I have seen you feeding the dogs. You are doing a great service. Are you a social worker?”</em> a lady observes as she pauses her conversation on the mobile to speak to me.<br /><br />I put on my brightest smile and say, <em>“Do I need to be a social worker to feed dogs?”</em><br /><br /><em>“Uh-oh, no, no, not really”</em>, she says and resuming her conversation starts to walk away.<br /><br />I do not like the idea of people thinking that <em>they</em> need not get involved in social initiatives, it is someone’s else "job". I wonder if I was rude. If I was, I had tried to disguise it with my smile.<br /><br />One afternoon from the corner of my eyes, I see a young man eyeing me from across the street. He seems he would break into a smile if I caught his eye. That is what I want to exactly avoid. But he is a determined young man, he crosses the street and demands my attention, <em>“It is a great job you are doing. Would you like to do something for humans too?”</em><br /><br />I gape at him. Is it sarcasm? Still, I want to know what I can “do” for humans? He introduces himself as an executive from CRY.... Isn’t every living thing – humans, animals, insects, and plants part of the planet? Did the CRY executive ignore the fact or did he just want to complete his targets? The issue is that even in the social sector a hierarchy exists, decided by the beneficiaries of the initiative. You may laugh at me for my interest in the <a href="http://donkeysanctuary.rokkhost.com/site/1/India.html">Donkey Sanctuary</a>. As for me, I am glad someone thought about them.<br /><br />It is not often that you see people wearing sunglasses after sundown. And you wonder about the ones that you catch. Last week, one day at around 8:30 PM in the evening, I sensed a young man with a John Abraham style haircut and goggles giving me signals that he wants to start a conversation with me. After dilly-dallying a bit, finally he was by my side with a question. <em>“Why are you feeding only one dog?”</em> That day it was only Daisy who was around me.<br /><br /><em>“Excuse me?”</em> I say.<br /><br /><em>“Why are you feeding only one dog? There are so many others on the street?”</em> he elaborates.<br /><br />Gosh! Why don’t people mind their own business, I think to myself. I wish Bhootni was around. I would have liked her to bark at him, if possible bite him. I tell him, <em>“If everybody fed a dog each, your question will not be necessary.”</em><br /><br />The guy does the vanishing act. He failed at hooking up a girl. He would probably never know that the girl has lived decades more than him.<br /><br />Anyways, his question lingers in my mind. I dial New Delhi and consult with MD. <em>“Was my answer appropriate or should I have asked him – How many dogs do </em>you<em> feed?”</em> MD says what I said was fine. I take a second opinion from G, my good colleague. She has an opinion. She says I should have said – “Do you want to be fed too?”Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-56054752974427220532008-05-21T18:00:00.006+05:302009-03-18T20:24:28.234+05:30Daisy - III<strong>At The Hospital And After<br /></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">I</span></strong> reached Blue Cross hospital the day after Daisy was picked up. It took me a while to locate her in the hospital. When I found her, she was still in the isolation room. She hadn’t yet been attended to. A couple of Blue Cross workers were assigned the duty of initiating the formalities for Daisy. Under my scrutinizing eyes, they opened the doors to the isolation room. Daisy emerged at the doorway, and I must admit she looked terrible. Her mouth was red with blood – she would have bitten her tongue from the terror of the “pick-up”. She did not seem to recognize me at all and refused to budge. One of the workers promptly carried her in his arms and we marched toward the general OPD under a tree. A lady doctor greeted us with a smile, and asked Daisy to be laid on the metal table before her. She examined Daisy and ascertained that a muscle on the leg has been damaged in the impact of the accident. Therefore, Daisy limped. She administered an injection and Daisy’s treatment began.<br /><br />The doctor informed me that the chances of recovery were unknown at that point. It will all depend on how Daisy’s body responds to the injections, she said. I left the hospital that day not with guilt but with a feeling of peace. A little voice inside told me that she has come this far, it will only get better from this point onwards.<br /><br />Daisy was in the hospital for four weeks. I visited her every weekend. My visits also opened the doors to a world of compassion, love, and care toward animals. This was the first time I ever visited a hospital for animals. In the hospital, apart from dogs, there were cats, goats, pigs, and horses. I read whatever I could find about <a href="http://www.bluecross.org.in/">Blue Cross Hospital, Chennai</a> on the internet. My purpose of coming to Chennai became clear to me. This was my primary gain. I left the hospital each of the days I visited with a sense of inner peace. The world of animals is so uncomplicated unlike humans that it charges the weary recesses of the mind with hope and love.<br /><br />By the end of the second week, Daisy had started responding to the treatment. After the third week, she was up on her four feet. I was very excited at the recovery. All the same, she had grown thin. I was told that she was not taking food, she was in fact, surviving on glucose. Now when I think about it, I am not surprised or alarmed. Daisy is very choosy about food!!<br /><br />Finally, the day to release her approached. MD had presented Daisy with a violet band. I had chosen the color. Being the color of the <em>crown chakra</em>, among many of its properties, violet also provides healing – physical, psychological, and spiritual. I believed Daisy would stand protected at all times. Another reason for the band was to send out a signal that the dog had an “owner”. I handed over the band to one of the Blue Cross workers requesting him to fix it around her neck the day she is released from the hospital.<br /><br />The van, a much smaller one halted at the same spot it had come four weeks back. A door opened and Daisy popped out. Although thin, she looked sprightly with twinkling eyes and a cool voilet band around her neck :-) She looked relieved to return to her old spot. She went about busily sniffing the various corners of her bus stop. It was fun to watch her. The Blue Cross workers produced a sheet of paper once more, I signed on it, and tipped them generously out of heartfelt gratitude. I left Daisy at the bus stop as I walked back home.<br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;">To be continued.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24113197.post-9811505030177762502008-05-14T15:02:00.008+05:302009-03-18T20:24:28.235+05:30Daisy - II<strong>Daisy Goes To Hospital<br /></strong><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><strong>T</strong></span>wo weeks passed, Daisy regained strength – the wound healed, and she started to walk. But, she still limped. That is when I decided she needs medical attention and institutional care. I wanted her to scamper about on her four legs just like Budi Boo. My search to find medical help for her began. I googled.<br /><br />Apart from what I had set out to find, I came across news articles about exceptional people in Chennai whose compassion for dogs have translated into meaningful service for these animals. I was led to the rousing tales of <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/thehindu/thscrip/print.pl?file=2007082551880800.htm&date=2007/08/25/&prd=mp&">Narasimhamoorthy and C. Padmavathi</a>, <a href="http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/11/25/stories/2006112501860500.htm">Amala Akkineni</a>, and <a href="http://www.hindu.com/2005/10/17/stories/2005101704390200.htm">Yaggna Prabha</a>. I remembered the <em>language of omens</em> that Paulo Coelho talks about in The Alchemist. I felt that these news articles were omens to support and encourage me in my search to find help for Daisy.<br /><br />I finally found a <a href="http://www.weforanimals.com/animal%20welfare%20organizations/animal-welfare-organizations-30.htm">list</a> of animal welfare organizations in Tamil Nadu. I still remember my ecstasy at finding the list, I was ecstatic because I had never taken an initiative of this nature in my life before! The list made me feel that I had won half the battle. Armed with the list, I started dialing. Most numbers had changed, so I had to search some more to get the current ones. I spoke to different types of organizations with various approaches toward animal welfare. One well-spoken gentleman wanted to rope me in as a volunteer-researcher for his organization, another wanted me to help them with their website “in lieu” of helping Daisy. Another well-intentioned gentleman tried his best to convince me to give up the idea of keeping her under institutional care. His reasons were plausible, only it didn’t suit me. According to him, I should get Daisy home from where she can receive medical attention. Leaving a dog in an animal hospital is sinful, from what I understood of his viewpoint. My plea that the possibility is RULED OUT coz I live in a P-A-Y-I-N-G G-U-E-S-T accommodation fell into deaf ears.<br /><br />It was taxing speaking to this well-intentioned gentleman, so I was grateful when he decided to spare me.<br /><br />After more phone calls and more talking, I finally hit upon the Blue Cross of India, a hospital for animals – primarily dogs. For now that is all I will say about Blue Cross. It deserves a separate post, which I shall make in the future, soon. So done, it was decided that Daisy will go to Blue Cross for treatment. All arrangements were made and at an appointed hour on the first Saturday in March, the Blue Cross pick-up truck stopped in front of the bus stop where Daisy lived.<br /><br />Two men got down from the truck; they first made me sign on an undertaking as I was the informer for this “pick-up”. That afternoon, Daisy was sprawled on the bus stop grounds enjoying a siesta, she had no notion about what was to come. I had especially been careful not to make any mention of the hospital trip to her knowing fully well that dogs are capable of extra sensory perceptions.<br /><br />The operation to “pick” her began. One of the men approached her stealthily from behind with a long iron handle at the end of which was a roundish clasp. Seeing the device, I remember feeling a sudden pang of guilt. What was I pushing Daisy into? I was having a premonition of what was to happen. Suddenly, the man, with a quick and deft movement of his hand fixed the clasp on Daisy’s neck. Time seemed to stop for a few seconds thereafter. And my heart missed a beat. A heart-rending cry filled the air. The passersby stopped in their tracks. The crows started flying low helter-skelter and crowing menacingly. The invisible dogs in the locality joined in her shrill cry....<br /><br />I will not go into the details from this point on till I went to meet Daisy the following day at the hospital. Suffice to know that I was distraught for a long time after she was “picked-up”. The manner in which it was done got to me. Everybody I spoke to about the ghastly pick-up tried to convince me that, that is how dogs from the street are picked up. Moreover they told me, the method does not cause pain to the dog, although it seems that it does. I hoped that they were right. My heart was still divided. I patiently waited for the next day when I would meet Daisy at the hospital. For a dog that I knew to have suffered trauma, how far was I justified in subjecting her to this experience? I wanted to know.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">To be continued.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0