“courageously light the candle of today

and lead the way”

(c) 2009  Unknownheartist@gmail.com

“create a blessing tree

a house of unity”

“you contain both roots and leaves

a hidden vein that lives and breathes”

Click on archives or uses < and > for more categories.

Please visit again soon as hundreds more “miniatures” and photos will be added.

(c) 2009  Unknownheartist@gmail.com

The ruins in Pompeii

Today is December 23rd.
I have just woken up with my eyes overflowing with tears and the room seems shrouded in mist.
Today’s entry in my diary reads, collect Florentina and Andrew from NYU, let Christmas begin!
How is it possible to keep see-sawing from thinking that Andrew is alive only to remember that he is not. That he is dead. Every time I “remember that he is dead,” I get punched, in the gut, the stomach, the face, my underbelly, I’m a huge bruise on the outside, and a red hot shredded mess inside.
And here’s the thing though, I am responsible for a lot of this. If I see something that Andrew would have liked, or not liked for that matter, I go down that “road” and dig up all sorts of memories. You know how it is with these things; they gather momentum.
It is the Law of Attraction, and before I know it, it is August 2005. I am with the whole family, telling a woman in a car park near the ruins in Pompeii not to feed chicken bones to this stray puppy.
Next we are in the car asking two policemen, stationery at a gas station on their motorbikes, to point us toward the motorway to Naples.
“Wait just one minute,” says one of them, before continuing his conversation with his colleague. They keep talking, and talking and sitting in our steamy car, we start to think that it would have been quicker to try finding our own way out of Pompeii.
“Look,” I say to the policeman, leaning out of the window. “You are busy, we’ll be alright, we’ll find the way.”
“No, no Signora,” he insists. “We’ll take you to the motorway in just one minute.”
The children start chuckling, and so do I and Hugh.
“This is so Italian,” Andrew says.
Next, they stop a motorbike and start talking with the men on it, arms flying, voices rising. The guys on the bike start it up and make to leave, the two policemen draw their firearms and gun their bikes. We are in the middle of it.
“What the hell,” says Florentina.
“Oh fuck,” I say. “Now what?”
We are in shock, but the boys are doubled up in laughter, they think it’s the funniest thing ever. Then as suddenly as it all started, it ended. It was a misunderstanding, the guns are holstered, the “bad guys” are free to leave.
“Venga Signora. Ci segua, l’accompagniamo – Come Signora, follow us, we’ll escort you,” the two policemen say smiling as if nothing had happened and position their bikes, one in front and one behind us. That’s how they drove us to the entrance of the Autostrada del Nord. Then with a flourish, they raised their helmets and bid us goodbye.
We talked about it all the way to Naples and on to Rome. And we often reminisced about it around the dinner table whenever we talked about our many travels.

The Law of Attraction says: “… set your tone for things to appreciate…”
And I do, I appreciate ALL the moments that add up to over twenty years of memories of, and, with Andrew. And I do appreciate and treasure the reassurance that Swamiji, one of Amma’s Monastic disciples gave me in response to a question I posed to him; he says:

Aum Amriteswaryai Namah
Namah Sivaya,

“… Andrew is still your son. He is feeling comfortable where he is now. He still remembers all of you and is constantly sending his love and asking you not to get worried about him. Please do pray. Thanks,
Namah Sivaya

But I would rather have him here; I would rather deal with a pile of his dirty laundry and that general whirlwind that comes when all of ones’ children are home two days before Christmas. And they have “secret” meetings in each other’s room about… guess what – presents, stockings. Every year they remind each other of which stocking belongs to whom.
But Tigger…. I can’t bear to think of your stocking lying empty and sad, like all of us.

I love you Andrew

What can I say? I enjoy some strange things, or so it may seem to others.
Nobody could understand why I wanted go to India on a spiritual boot camp.
“Why do you want to sleep on floors? What’s so great about having to wash with a bucket in a toilet stall? And what’s this collapsible bucket for?” Those are the questions that some of my family and friends asked me when I announced my intentions to spend two months traveling by bus throughout India on a spiritual journey with my teacher, Amma, in January 2008.
“Is there no other way to go to Heaven?” a dear friend joked.
But I have to say that a lot of people are equally baffled by and tease me about my enjoyment of all things domestic—laundry and ironing being chief amongst them.

Yesterday, after collecting Andrew’s younger brother who’d spent the weekend with his sister – they went to see the Nutcracker together – I felt the need to go to Andrew’s dorm. Initially NYU had asked us to clear his room by the Thanksgiving weekend, and I had said “fine, whatever.”
But then we, my family, thought, we can’t! It’s hard enough to get through Thanksgiving twenty-two days after Andrew’s death, without having to undertake the task, emotional more than physical, of clearing his room. NYU agreed to give us until after Christmas. And so his belongings are still there.
I had been there once, a few days after Andrew had died. I had not wanted to take anything then. But this time I got it into my head that I wanted his laundry hamper to come home.
“I must wash his things; it’s been a long time since I last did his laundry,” I kept thinking.

“He’ll come home on the 23rd, two days before Christmas and deposit a month’s worth of washing at my feet.”
“I thought that since I was coming home…” he’ll say with a smile. I’ve heard that before, and after only the pretense of a grumble I will get on with it.

Then I remember, I always remember. I look at his unwashed things, I take a pair of socks out of the hamper; they are all rolled up, because I suppose he didn’t take them off, he rolled them off his feet. I hold them to my nose, and I smile remembering that he didn’t like the “I’m-about-to-walk- off” smell of French cheeses. But his socks, even though they have been worn, smell worn not “smelly.”

I’m in a quandary now, I feel an urge to wash his clothes, iron what needs to be ironed, neatly fold what needs to be folded, arrange it all tidily in his closet and drawers, ready for him to just reach for what he needs.

But then, shit, shit, shit, I always remember. He will not need any of his clothes, again.

Well then, I’ll hold on to them as they are. I’ll hold on to the smell of Andrew they still carry for as long as I can.

There is a lot more that I want to talk about, but we, we have time.

“there is no separation

between the self and the rest of creation”

-

“life is a drop

containing the ocean”

-

“powered by the central meridian

that all and everything lives in”

-

“souls pass through stained glass

no colors contain us”

-

-

“sandcastle and a feather

the mud that holds you together”

-

-

“the Great Mind knows

how all books go”

-

-

“the master intelligence

each of us contains and represents”-

-

“what thunders

lightening’s power?’

-

-

“many in body, one in mind

we are intertwined”

-

-

“viscous and meniscus

the flow of what life is”

-

-

“where liquid sunshine also hides

for drops are thinking deep inside”

-

-

“there is no present, future, or past

because through eternity the mind is cast”

-

-

“there is another realm it’s true

the vibratory field we cannot view”

-

-

“there are no others just different kinds

of many bodies and one mind”

-

–

-

-

Click on < or > to visit other categories, hundreds more “miniatures” will be posted soon.

(c) 2009    Unknownheartist@gmail.com

This view from my room at the Ashram is of Kerala's backwaters

Thank you dear friend.

“Love, Andrew was there when I came for dinner, we spent all evening together, all the kids were there. All three of them are beautiful.
He is around you, holding you in his heart..You will always be Andrew’s Mommie.
Just remember to talk to him and he will be there. Don’t try to forget or remember. Just hold the special love and bond and feel him there. I love you
guys, wish I could take this pain away from you all, but God is there.
Baby the kids need you to hold them close and heal their pain.
You are the bountiful Mommie to very beautiful kids Esmeralda. Hug Hugh and the kids hard from me.
LOve you all ..”
Poonam Chawla

அம்மா-முதன் முதலாய்(Sir Shawn De Boyzinblue,அப்பாச்சியன்)

ஹே ஹே ஹே – 2
ஹே-6

ஆராரோ ரா ரே ரா ரா ரோ – 3
ரா ரோ
ஆராரோ ரா ரே ரா ரா ரோ – 3
ரா ரோ

300 நாட்களாய்
சுமை என்னை தாங்கினாய்
நான் மூச்சு வாங்கவே
உயிர் மூச்சை தாங்கினாய்
அம்மா அம்மம்மா
உன்னை போலே யார் அம்மா
அம்மா அம்மம்மா
உன்னை போலே யார் அம்மா
இரவு பகல் என பாராமல்
இமை போல் என்னை காத்தாயே
எனை உறங்க வைப்பதற்கு
உன் உறக்கம் துறந்தாயே

என் நெஞ்சில் பூத்த முல்லையே
உன்னை போலே தெய்வம் இல்லையே
உன் அன்புக்கேது எல்லையே
நான் கண்ணால் கண்டதில்லையே
தாயே

300 நாட்களாய்
சுமை என்னை தாங்கினாய்
நான் மூச்சு வாங்கவே
உயிர் மூச்சை தாங்கினாய்
தாயே

பசியை பார்த்ததில்லையே
ஏனோ நீ காட்டவில்லையே
அம்மா நீ சோறூட்ட
போதும் உனது அன்பு தொல்லையே
மடியில் என்னை சீராட்ட
உலகை மறந்தேன் ஒரு நிமிடம்
நானும் உன்னை தாலாட்ட
வரம் கேட்டேன் இறைவனிடம்
7 7 ஜென்மம் நான் உன் மகன் வேண்டும்
எந்தன் உயிர் போகும் போதும்
உந்தன் மடியில் போக வேண்டும்
வரம் கிடைக்குமா
அம்மம்மா

300 நாட்களாய்
சுமை என்னை தாங்கினாய்
நான் மூச்சு வாங்கவே
உயிர் மூச்சை தாங்கினாய்
தாயே

கண்ணே மணியே
கவலை வேண்டாம்
அம்மா வருவாள்
தூங்குடா
கண்ணே மணியே
கவலை வேண்டாம்
அம்மா வருவாள்
தூங்குடா
என பாடி வா
தாலாட்டு பாடி வா

எ ஹே ஹே – 2
ஹே-6

என கண்ணில் நீர் வந்தால்
உன் கண்களில் நீர் தேங்குமே
உன் மடியில் தலை வைத்தால்
துன்பம் வெகு தூரம் போகுமே
கோழியே மிதித்தாலும்
குஞ்சுக்கேதும் ஆகாது
என்னை திட்டி தீர்த்தாலும்
உன்னை போலே ஆகாது
உண்ணும் பொருளும் (?) அல்லாது
உனக்கு ஈடு ஆகாது
வானும் மண்ணும் போனாலும்
உந்தன் அன்பு போகாது
உயிர் நீயம்மா
அம்மம்மா ..

300 நாட்களாய்
சுமை என்னை தாங்கினாய்
நான் மூச்சு வாங்கவே
உயிர் மூச்சை தாங்கினாய்
அம்மா அம்மம்மா
உன்னை போலே யார் அம்மா
அம்மா அம்மம்மா
உன்னை போலே யார் அம்மா
இரவு பகல் என பாராமல்
இமை போல் என்னை காத்தாயே
எனை உறங்க வைப்பதற்கு
உன் உறக்கம் துறந்தாயே
என் நெஞ்சில் பூத்த முல்லையே
உன்னை போலே தெய்வம் இல்லையே
உன் அன்புக்கேது எல்லையே
நான் கண்ணால் கண்டதில்லையே
தாயே
என் நெஞ்சில் பூத்த முல்லையே
உன்னை போலே தெய்வம் இல்லையே
உன் அன்புக்கேது எல்லையே
நான் கண்ணால் கண்டதில்லையே
தாயே

எ ஹே ஹே – 2
ஹே-6

பின் குறிப்பு :

இதை முதன் முதலில் யாஹுவில் நண்பர் ஒருவர் பாடி கேட்டேன். இந்த பாடல் மலேசியா நாட்டு தமிழ் பாடல் குழு “அப்பாச்சியன்” என்பவர்களாலும் பாடப்பட்டது. பதித்தவர் ஒற்றை நட்சத்திரம் பதித்த நேர

அம்மா – பூ முகம் சிவக்க

பதித்தவர் ஒற்றை நட்சத்திரம் பதித்த நேரம்

The worst week ever in my life is finally over… or I THINK its over.

Goldie is doing a zillion times better than Monday. She ended up having severe plaster allergy n she bit herself so badly that she started bleeding non stop. I was out of my mind with worry and was crying the whole time; in the vet clinic I went hysterical and was weeping so much that the vet threw me out of the clinic . Well, now she is better, the wound is healing beautifully (according to the Doc) and she is back to wagging her tail, barking, eating and being a nuisance . During this whole horrifying episode, Goldie has become besotted with the DH.. Ever since my scene at the vet clinic, he has been taking her for her check ups with Appa and so Goldie has decided that anyone who can drive with all the windows down is her new BFF.. Best of luck when u take the car out next hon

Now, this whole hysterical-Dee-with-Goldie situation has made me the butt of jokes for my immediate family – including the in-laws, I might add.. My parents are shocked that I behaved so irrationally and was not able to keep my head together during Goldie’s surgery.. This seems to have triggered something in my parents where they are worried if I am going to be “that” kind of mom.. You know, the one who obsessively checks her child, imagines her child has every possible disease, countless trips to the doc etc.. An aunt of mine is like that and because of that my cousin is all whiny and complaining with every degree change in the temperature.. I actually make fun of tat aunt mentioning how annoying she is.. So, now I am horrified I am like that.. Its so bad, that my parents dread my calls (I call every hour, sigh) to check on Goldie..But my parents forget how smart I am, I make others call for me.. Bwaahahha

Do you know what kind of parent you’ll be? I always thought I would be the cool mom, u know, like my parents.. My parents are very chilled out, they never said – don climb, don jump, don eat etc.. We did a whole lot of mistakes, but we survived and learnt a lesson.. The only thing my parents forced on us was their love for reading and speaking in Tamil ONLY at home.. When we got into fights with the neighbors and went home crying, they hardly looked at us and sent us back with “beat him/her back”.. We ate every crappy road food, we wore clothes that were sold on the footpath, we sat in the dirtiest autos or buses.. It made my Granny very annoyed that her grandchildren were being brought up like little street urchins, but we have fabulous memories of our childhood.. Also, because of what we had back then, we are so much more appreciative of what we can afford and we make sure, we buy things that are worth spending money over!

It’s almost like everyone around me is getting pregnant.. And these are girls (for the lack of better term) who are still nutty who think nothing about walking in 8 months pregnant into a pub and this, they do with style.. And the last week, I have been thinking about getting pregnant to just figure out what kind of parent I’ll be.. I know, its like the most ridiculous reason to want to be a mom I feel like a freak weird scientist conducting a crazy experiment .. I don want to be a crazy, hyper mom.. I mean, I want my children to like me, the DH to not leave me and people to still like me after I have children.. The DH assures me that I will be a good parent.. Maybe he knows he will be a fabulous parent and he can compensate for my lack of parenting skills..

What kind of parents do you think you will be? Is this kind of worrying normal? If your already a parent, is this the kind of parent you thought you’d be too? Please drop a comment, I am really curious..

A small skit,about how a 3 year old gets ready for school on a rainy day in late 1980’s..
Location:A middle-class Brahmin family in the suburbs of chennai.The rain has started pouring outside.

Characters:Amma,Appa,Paati,’Olli’ paati(a learned widow,who has come back from touring delhi etc),Kunjee paati(the eldest and soft hearted one,who is actually the aunt of ‘paati’) and the Great ‘Ammulu’

Scene 1-Hullabaloo before going to school
Location:Home,
Time-Morning 8 am

Appa: Ammuloo,home work pannitiya kutty..

Amma :Appa,avala apdiye pidingo..Nan uniform eduthund vandhudren.

Paati:(at mom,handing over a small bowl of mashed food)
Indhaadi’mma,Kozhandhaikku saadhatha ootitu apram schoolku kootind poyi vidu..

Amma:Veinggo’mma..Mudhalla ‘Idhukku’ dress’a mati vidren.
(‘Idhukku’ represents the Great ‘Ammulu’ here)

Scene 2 -Chaos start,Rain clouds gather to form an eerie black cover over chennai.
Location:Home
Time 8 10 am.

Ammulu:Nan schoolku pomatten…

Amma:Adi dhaan vaanga pora nee..vaa inga…vaaya thira (with that,pulls ammulu over her..holds her in between her legs and stuffs her mouth with food

Ammulu: Waaaahhhh….Nan po mattenna po matten

Appa:Sari,Sari,azha koodadhu..chamattha sapadnum,apodhan lollypop vaangi tharuven appa

Ammulu:Po..Un Lollypop’um Vendam…School’um Vendam.. (Crying)

Amma:(Gives a Nasty stare at ammulu and with a threatening voice) Vaa inga

Paati:ppppa…dhinamum azhugai..apdi ennatha school’la bayamuruthi vechrukalo kozhandhaiya..

Ammulu:Waaaaaaaaaaaaah(On hearing the support from paati,wail becomes bigger..)

Amma seems never to really care.

Olli paati:Neenga officeku kelambungo..Nan kondu poyi vituttu varen.Baby,you should not cry.(Olli paati is a learned one,coming from delhi)

Ammulu throwing a Scenic big tantrum now,with vomitting

Kunjee paati:(very soft hearted)
       Dai,kozhandhaiya viduda..paavam..pon kozhandhai..poramaatta kozhandhai..adha pidichu schoolku po..adhu idhunnu…ava engayum poga vendam..venumna vaathiyaara aathukkae vara vechu solli kuduthukalam..Home study best study (Talking english with her bokkai vaai)

Scene3:Heavy rain as if the sky is going to fall down.
Location:Just outside Home
Time 8.50 am
Appa:Neenga chumma irungo paati,chellam kuduthu kuduthudhaan ‘idhu’ ipdi paduthardhu.

Amma:Indhaango appa lunch box,water bottle ellam,Kondu poyi school’la vitrungo.(hands over ammulu,her bags and an umbrella)

Ammulu:Nan varamatten..Waaaaaaahhhhhhhhh…enna vidu..

Scene 4:Rain continues..
Location:school
time:8 58 am

Ammulu:Waaaaaaahhhh…(crying,but to no avail dad leaves ammulu in the classroom)

Scene 5:Rain has subsided a little now and a clear warm sunshine adorns the sky.
Location:Home

Appa:Happadi,oru vazhiya idhu schoolku pochu…romba paduthala irukku..

Scene 6:The rain begins to pour again.
Location:Home
time:9 20 am

Ammulu: Apppppppppppppppppa …..(with a big grin,standing with just an innerwear’, with school mani aaya beside, saying that ammulu vomitted all over her dress.So she had brought her home to change the dress)

Kunjee paati:Acho,vaadi en rajathi.

Appa out of despair:Idhu theradha case.Padipellam sariya varadhu polaruku.Sari,Uniform’a edu.
Next hullabaloo starts..And the rain Never stops for the day.

PS:That ‘ammulu’ is none other than ‘me’getting ready for my LKG’B'Section :p

Acabo de recibir mi primer Darshan…

Abrazar a Amma ha sido una experiencia mistica. Percibir su energia es como oler la fragancia de una rosa. La experiencia ha sido tan misteriosa que no existe forma de desvelar el misterio. Puedes experimentarla, pero no puedes explicarla… Puedes vivirla, pero te deja casi sin habla. Estar en sus brazos vacia la mente, entras en un estado de abandono total en el cual solo sientes un placido calor en el pecho.  Cuando me acerque senti como, con cada paso, mi mente se iba vaciando de pensamientos. Cuando me abrazo con sus fuertes brazos senti que me abrazaba el corazon, lo anestesiaba y lo tranquilizaba. Senti mi cara contra su pecho y no pude pensar en nada… dije GRACIAS  pero no se muy bien porque… Cuando me solto me miro, nos miramos a los ojos y me volvio a acercar mientras me susurraba unos palabras misteriosas en mis oidos… Tal vez duro menos de un minuto pero lo senti como una eternidad.  Su abrazo fue una autentica experiencia mistica. En cuanto te toca no hay pensamientos ni preocupaciones, todo es pura sensacion. Inexplicablemente hermoso……

Gracias de nuevo…

Dutch translation…

De omhelsing van Amma was een mistieke ervaring. Het waarnemen van haar energie is als het ruiken van een roos.  De ervaring is  zo misterieus dat er geen manier bestaat om het misterie te onthullen. Je kunt het ervaren, maar je kunt het niet verklaren, je kunt het beleven maar je kunt niet de woorden vinden om het te beschrijven. In haar armen verdwijnen alle gedachten, kom je in een staat van volledige overgave en wordt je overvallen door een aangenaam en warm gevoel  in je borst. Met iedere stap die ik dichter bij haar kwam voelde ik hoe mijn hoofd en geest zich bevrijde van alle gedachten en zorgen. Toen ze mij omhelsde in haar sterke armen voelde het alsof ze mijn hart vast hield, verdoofde en gerust stelde….. to be continued

my wisp of fresh air
my guiding light
my in-house jester
my life line lender
my woman of substance.
Amma, today I really missed you. Missed your familiar scent, just missed you being around here and me being around you. I thought of all the times, I lay on your lap and felt warmth and comfort in the folds of your starched cotton saree. I missed all the fooling around I did with you, and had an overpowering urge to gather you in a physical form from my thoughts and hug you tight.

Im trying to call you to just hear your cheery hello and you are away at some silly ‘all women do’.

Love you amma, now and always

Silly first-born..

More fragrant than jasmine
By Amjad Ali khan

Every human being’s first teacher is his mother. In fact, the first ‘music’ that a child hears is the mother’s voice. Have we ever thought about the great ladies who raised great artistes? The lives of these brave and timeless women are often a tale of struggle and evolution.

When I look back, I cannot remember a day when my mother was not there for me, watching me practise, play, eat. In whatever financial condition we were back then, life looked beautiful because of her unconditional love. I grew up and moved on, but she remained in the background with her blessings. My mother suffered a lot because of the big joint family of Abba Saheb in Gwalior. She had no say in most family matters and was not treated with love and respect by other members who lived with us.

Recently, I was saddened to hear that Ustad Alla Rakha Khan’s wife, Bawi Begum, who was affectionately called Ammaji, passed away in Mumbai. She was, perhaps, the last of the artistes’ wives who kept the house open for family and friends without, in today’s language, an appointment. With the erratic timings of the profession, such warmth and welcoming can be expected only from a person with unsurpassed love, affection and understanding.

I have had some of the most memorable evenings at Alla Rakha Khan saheb’s residence in Mumbai. It was always great interaction and great food. I pray to the Almighty that her soul rests in peace and the legacy of love and affection that she has left behind stays forever in their home. She blessed the music world with her jewels, Zakir Hussain, Fazal Qureshi and Taufiq Qureshi.

I recall similar stories of the wives of Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and Ustad Enayet Khan. These ladies gave birth to the finest artistes who represented Indian classical music.

I hope all artistes and their wives give quality time to their children. Artistes need to travel constantly, but it is very important to strike the right balance between professional and family lives.

My wife, Subhalakshmi Khan, deserves the highest praise for handling my life the way she is doing it. She has been the best daughter to her parents, the best wife to me, the best daughter-in-law to my parents and the best mother to my sons, Ayaan and Amaan.

She is in charge of the museum Sarod Ghar and the Haafiz Ali Khan Awards. She has been dealing with art and artistes for years, and has completely dedicated herself to my family. She makes immense effort in maintaining the Ustad Haafiz Ali Memorial Trust.

Subhalakshmi began coordinating and managing my concerts soon after our marriage. Now this includes the management of Amaan’s and Ayaan’s concerts as well. She did not know how to cook at the time of our marriage, but today we all look forward to her cooking, as she has an exclusive touch in everything she cooks. She could not meet my father but has heard all the old stories of our family from my mother.

Only a mother can multi-task at all levels and still have the time to devote to and the love to share with the family. I don’t know how mothers do this, but they do! I have watched my mother and wife perform these roles with utmost devotion. I have forever felt blessed and remain grateful to be in the midst of such divine love. I remember a quotation by Sathya Sai Baba:

Sathya Sai Baba: More fragrant than the sweet-smelling flowers like the Jasmine and the Champak, Softer than the cheese and the butter, More beautiful than eye of the peacock, More pleasant than the moonlight, Is the love of the mother.

The Week Reference

When was the last time you hugged someone intensely for a solid 15 seconds? Now, imagine doing just that all day, everyday. Amma, an extraordinarily popular spiritual leader from India, is well known for doing just that. Amma travels around the globe to greet and hug as many people as are willing to show up…literally. She’s been known to hug crowds of 50,000 people for 20 hours straight without a single break for food, water, or the bathroom, and putting as much love into the last hug as the first.

50,000 (long) hugs! 20 hours! No stops. Only smiles!

Fast forward to 12 minutes, 11 seconds to see ‘Amma in action’

Born in the Indian district of Kerala, Sudhamani (a.k.a. Amma) was clearly ‘different’ from the norm. Her parents claim that instead of the typical baby’s incessant crying at birth, Amma came out with an ear-to-ear grin, and has kept it on ever since. Amma spends her days uplifting the human spirit with the simplest of gestures: an embrace. It’s estimated that Amma has hugged over 25 million people worldwide!

Once a press reporter asked Amma how was it possible for her to embrace each and every one in the same loving way, even if they were diseased or unpleasant. Amma replied, “ When a bee hovers over a garden of varied flowers, what it beholds is not the difference between the flowers but the honey within them. Similarly Amma sees the same Supreme Self in each and every one.

Amma is an inspiration of mine. By that, I do not mean I am going to drop everything and tour the world hugging people, I mean she is a truly remarkable person, one who rightly deserves every last ounce of godly praise she receives. We are all so caught up in the daily grind, which leave so many people saying, “boy, life is really hard, huh?” Then there’s this woman who is ready willing and able to hugh 50,000 without a break–something we’d call “really hard.” And what do you think Amma would say in response to that?

When someone asked Amma why she receives every person who comes to her in a loving embrace Amma replied, “ If you ask the river,’ why do you flow?’ what can it say?”

She knows nothing but pure, unadulterated love. You may say, “ya, but that’s just not possible in the Western world, we’ve got ‘real things’ to do with our time.” I say bullshit. My point is not that we all need to walk around with god-like amounts of love exuding from our souls at all times, but that Amma’s philosophy can be applied to anyone’s daily life. There is no reason not to love everything you do with every ounce of your being. If you are a lawyer, then love being a lawyer, pour every ounce of yourself into your work. If you are a father or a mother, then love every last second you spend with your children. If you are a student, then love and appreciate every bit of work it requires you to do. And if you find yourself spending so much of your time doing things that don’t allow you to pour your love and energy into, then it may be time to reassess what you’re doing. Because then you’ll look back one day and realize that life shouldn’t be about doing, but rather being.

only in her imagination!!

My poor baby has been having inflamed intestines and it has apparently been causing her some kind of discomfort. We initially did not know what had happened but then since yesterday she has been walking all over the house whining non stop. So, we took her to the Vet today morning, to check what was wrong with her. I We were a lil alarmed too, because Appa had taken her to the vet about 2 weeks ago for a full check up. While the doctor was shoving his fingers up her ass or checking her (in vet-speak) I noticed there was some kind of white discharge on the table. Then, I touched it and I said it felt odd, like milk. So, the vet checked her and told us that she was having a PSEUDO PREGNANCY. Yes, my dog is a nut case!

Apparently, in females across species, you tend to have a time when you are extremely maternal and you start thinking that your pregnant in ur head. And the body, who is the slave to your head starts preparing itself for the birth of a baby, or puppy in Goldie’s case! So, Goldie apparently wants a baby so bad, she started lactating and imagining that her tummy pains were labor pains; which is very odd because she is such a snob who does not entertain any male dogs near her.

Once I was done hearing that she was well and hale & hearty, I started laughing. I have not stopped yet .

Anyway, on other news, dinner with my parents was fabulous yesterday with my mother having a Chocolate Martini.. Yes, chocolate MARTINI (my mother is discovering alcohol) and takes a sip of my sister’s Long Island Ice Tea and tells everyone “Thats yummy!!”. I am now officially, the only teetotaler on either side of my family . We had steaks, chicken wings, cheese finger chips and booze. We had a wonderful conversation where my parents profound marriage advice to the DH and me was “Stick to ur side of the bed”. It was so much fun and I kept thinking that we should do it more frequently.

You guys had any crazy things happen to you today?!?

Picture of her in front of the DH’s bike acting all.. SNOBBISH (as usual)

There she is!

30 years is a long, long, long time. And for people who have been together for 30 years, you guys fight like little children. You fight for the TV remote, for Goldie’s affections, to set the table, to go out etc. But then, in perverse way, I get it; because I am like that now and also, because both of you are so different, there is hardly anything common among you except your 2 children and 3 dogs..

Today is my parents’ 30th wedding anniversary. It’s not a big deal because Appa is not big on celebrating special days and whatever excitement Amma may have had must have been 30 yrs ago; but today all the excitement has been completely doused by Appa over time. So, plan of action for today is them doing their thing and be dragged out by the children & child-in-law to dinner at an upscale restaurant. And seeing the bill after a delicious meal, one’s mother will complain to all & sundry of how she could have fed an army of relatives 10 different kinds of dishes with the money being spent and then telling the husband in hushed tones how she enjoyed it. The father of the said bill-payers, will check every single thing on the menu like it was the Economic Times and eat as little as possible to save his collective children’s economy. They will join hands and tell us this is the reason we are broke, because we think nothing about paying 100 rupees for a bottle of water!! Which by the way is the amount they pay per month for their water bill – 100 rupees per month to cook, clean, bathe, water the plants, water down goldie and wash the car in. I am serious!!

But that said, I have never met crazier parents than mine.. The one’s who are very chilled out when it comes to the “big” things in life and are more worried about their daughter’s colleague’s fucked up marriage and this individual, is someone they have never met, never even spoken to. The one’s who cannot even go for coffee to the nearest Shanthi Sagar because the guilt of eating a idli without their children will give them sleepless nights for years. Who will rush with chicken soup and rasam to respective children’s houses if they hear them sneezing accidentally. Who do not travel together now because “who will look after Goldie?”. Who cannot agree on whether they want grandchildren or a daughter to travel internationally before having a child (no connection whatsoever, I know). Who have a collective IQ of about 500 but can watch mindless Tamil movies on a daily basis. Who will learn to love Kannada songs to please the son-in-law.

I started this post of to write about how my parents are mature individuals who make the idea of marriage appealing to everyone. If I wrote that, I would not be writing about my parents now, would I?!?

Happy Anniversary Amma & Appa.

The Beard Feat. Amma – Call Me (Groove Assassin Remix)

Måste ju ta med en av mina favoriter med Amma vilket är den här. Sån underbart soft house med lite jazzigt stuk. Gillar speciellt den funkiga gitarren som ligger som klistrad över en fast takt i botten. I min housesamling har jag en hel drös låtar i liknande stil och det är inga problem att koka ihop ett skönt housemix med dem då de är mer eller mindre skapade med mixmöjligheterna i åtanke.

Tjillevippen

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