Inspiration Quotient!

When I want to feel comical about life, I read politics

When I want to feel normal about life, I talk to my Dad

When I want to feel super normal, I read Bharathi's works

When I want to get rid of boredom, I turn to the comments on Rediff

When I want to feel confident, I turn to my education

When I want to feel like a leader, I try to do my work myself

When I want to feel loved, I chat with my friends

When I want to feel that everything is normal with the world, I youtube Tendulkar

When I want to tackle rowdy Autos, I remember Rajini movies

When I want to feel useful, I blog!

Lucy Gray - A moving tragedy

A poem that has left a lasting impression in me is the story of Lucy Gray, by William Wordsworth. Not sure, if it's among his most famous works but if you happen to read it, you will be moved by the emotions that it brings out. Wordsworth a nature poet, definitely subtly brings out the supernatural impact of nature and the power nature has over man.

"To cut a long story short, Lucy gray has no friends and lives with her family. One afternoon, she goes to fetch her mother from the town which is beside the mountain/forest with a lantern in her hand. An unexpected blizzard hits and there she goes missing. Time here stops, we would want to believe that Lucy Gray returns to her family and they live happily ever after. But the footsteps of her ends abruptly in middle of a bridge. The conclusion of the poem seems to indicate that she has less chances of surviving".

The suspense at the end strikes one hard, no one knows if she is really lost or is she going to be back. We all want to believe that she is going to be and live happily ever after. Poem though is tragic there is some hope left for us. Her parents as shown in the poem to blissfully believe that she is alive and will be back one day.

We all want to believe that this life will get us somewhere though, we could have hit a plateau; we all like her parents want to believe that those times of cheer, like Lucy Gray will be back.

Lucy Gray could be compared with the efforts/decisions we take in life to reach the goal. We plan it, we secure it by giving it a lantern and the vicissitudes hits us like a blizzard. Retaining the hope of seeing the fruits of our labor, is in our hands. Let us believe that our hopes are secured and there are things to cheer about.

Will she see the light of the day? Are the foot steps seen is of some other girl and not of Lucy Gray ? Read the poem and make your own conclusion!

Lucy Gray - William Wordsworth

"Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray,

And when I cross'd the Wild,
I chanc'd to see at break of day
The solitary Child.

No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wild Moor,
The sweetest Thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the Fawn at play,
The Hare upon the Green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

"To-night will be a stormy night,
You to the Town must go,
And take a lantern, Child, to light
Your Mother thro' the snow."

"That, Father! will I gladly do;
'Tis scarcely afternoon--
The Minster-clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the Moon."

At this the Father rais'd his hook
And snapp'd a faggot-band;
He plied his work, and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.

Not blither is the mountain roe,
With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse, the powd'ry snow
That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before its time,
She wander'd up and down,
And many a hill did Lucy climb
But never reach'd the Town.

The wretched Parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide;
But there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood
That overlook'd the Moor;
And thence they saw the Bridge of Wood
A furlong from their door.

And now they homeward turn'd, and cry'd
"In Heaven we all shall meet!"
When in the snow the Mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.

Then downward from the steep hill's edge
They track'd the footmarks small;
And through the broken hawthorn-hedge,
And by the long stone-wall;

And then an open field they cross'd,
The marks were still the same;
They track'd them on, nor ever lost,
And to the Bridge they came.

They follow'd from the snowy bank
The footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank,
And further there were none.

Yet some maintain that to this day
She is a living Child,
That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome Wild.

O'er rough and smooth she trips along,
And never looks behind;
And sings a solitary song
That whistles in the wind."

Very Very Special!

Mahabharth's Karna would blame his curse for having failed at the crucial moment against his arch rival. But the man who bats for India at No.5, certainly looks at life differently from the eldest son of Kunti. At the crucial moment when everyone fails and when your opponents are breathing down your neck, like a phoenix he resurrects to deliver the knock out punch.

If one can compare Tendulkar's career with a FMCG company that is unaffected by recession, VVS is a cyclical one which moves through it's troughs and crests. The innings of 281 at Eden Gardens is a black swan for Indian cricket, after which things that were hitherto part of Indian cricket fan's blissful imagination came to life. Like a successful high risk high return proposition he more often than not beats the market's expectation.

He is uniquely Indian, like a nation that is facing its unique challenges, Laxman also has his limitations. Though his batting is smooth as silk, we cannot find many pleasant words to talk about his fielding and running. India fails at things that are assumed common place in other parts of the world but suddenly pulls out few rabbits out of the hat, successful IT companies, successful global acquisition by Indian firms are few illustrations.

Like many stalwarts who are bored with everyday mundane life wanting challenges to test the boundaries of their capabilities. This man is no different, though he fails at walk in the park situations, challenges bring the best in him and more so when it's from an Aussie. And has he not been their biggest nemesis per our recent cricketing memory, which certainly is VVS!

In Raven's feathers!

O' Dark Lord, you are what in Raven's feather I see,

Your green is in every plant and tree ,

All Sounds play ur bamboo flute's song,

When fire burns my finger, I touch thou in Pleasure O'Nandalala!

==== Original bySubramaniya Bharathi in Tamil

Ahmedabad, How I miss you!

If there is a place that I can call home outside home, it is ahmedabad. The city never ceases to amaze me, right from the chai waala everyone in the city knows what's happening at the stock market and seem to have invested there. The city a growing one, has the charm of a small city and facilities of a big metro but not it's crowd, traffic and pollution.

The city has given me an identity, a career, good friends and of course a new perspective to life. People have associated with it for the wrong reasons, my personal experience with the city has been far different from perceived reality, it's safest place in which I have ever lived. Where else in India, have i seen families eating out at midnight and women walking safely on the road at the death of the night?

Each one here wants to have his own business, the companies set up here are growing and of course the state is prospering. The high prosperity and increasing opportunities are definitely contributing to the low crime rate.' Only in sun do you realize value of a shade' and now I do! I did find the positive energy contagious.

"Show me your friends and I will tell you who you are" goes an old adage

For a modern Indian city, it can be put as "Show me your auto wallas, I would tell how good a city you are" . Don't be surprised, the auto wallas here run autos on meter and are helpful and cooperative.

Ahmedabad you have spoilt me and I miss you!

Where can i walk at 2 am on roads and claim I am safe. Where would I get autos that run on meter and not fleece me!

Swami Vivekananda said, "Let New India arise- let her arise- out of the peasants' cottage, grasping the plough; out of the huts of fisherman, the cobbler, and the sweeper. Let her spring from the grocer's shop, from the oven of the fritter-seller. Let her emanate from factory, from marts and markets. Let her emerge from groves and forests, from hills and mountains." , only here did I see traces of this new India