THANK YOU!

Thank you Readers!

And a special thanks to the online world ,where anyone of us can be catapulted to the fame.

And with my limited fame comes the self-award function.With the award function comes the necessary 

Thank You speech.

Or maybe the metaphysical part of my brain is wired to thank so as to attract more good things in life.

As spiritual thinkers say gratitude is a law of attraction .

Never mind the overdose ..here goes my speech....

I am thankful to you for making Shrill's no frills blog hit 20000 mark.

I know the blog could have garnered more hits had I publicised it well with  attractive photos of sunny celebrities.(note the pun)

But who cares? I believe simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.

When I started blogging in 2006,it was merely a fad.

Blogspot didn't have the autosave feature then and I remember having lost my contents to power cuts as my PC then didn't have the UPS functioning.

Since 2006 it has been a gradual journey where I have rambled about various things  .

The  idea is not to stay limited in  life. I have to keep expanding my horizon of thought.

So I have tried never to  limit my range in my writings.

Of course hues of social issues have been often painted in my posts.

But I have tried humour as well. 

Frankly I don't want to be the greatest blogger. Blogging for me is more of a catharsis and a creative exercise.

Ever since I read about Theory of multiple intelligences,I am driven by the urge to be adept at all of them.

And there in lies the problem of being a  Polymath .

Wannabe Polymaths have always admired Benjamin Franklin ,Leonardo da Vinci, and Newton(my first post was dedicated to him)  and the likes who never limited their realm of thought. 

I want to be a blogger,singer,traveler,engineer, friend, entrepreneur,geek, yogi, environmentalist,economist, athelete, quizzer,pianist, philosopher ,a change maker and hundred things I don't even know of.

So I will keep my promise and continue to write about everything under the sun and beyond as I keep unravelling them.

Till then be unlimited .

As shrill voices...you keep listening!

JANMAASHTAMI!

Oh Krishna!
Thou art great.

As an adult or in your childhood state.

 The naughty son,  Balaram’s brotherly fun

 Dwarka’s chosen one, with the eternal Sudarshan

The way you stand,with your body so sinuous

As if to remind us to be flexible and never fuss

 With that mellifluous flute you enchanted as Murli Manohar

 You have been worshipped as the dark faced Shyam Sundar

Why do people in this world not realise?

That being dark is not a vice

 While Yamuna was poisoned by the Kalia, killing your herdsmen

 The scene is no different today again,with toxins in the country’s den

Your message was clear even then

To worship and respect environment at Govardhan

 For nature around us should be resurrected

 Not some officious leader like Indra respected.

A friend to Sudama, provider to the penniless impoverished

We need that bounty again, as our vaults are famished

 The wonders of your flirtatious dance with the maidens of Dwarka

 But that true love for your soulmate Radhika

That one time when you married 16000 maidens

Only to restore their honour back,after Narakasura’s violation

 An epitome of a man you were

Saving Draupadi’s honour during that horrific stir

The situation is no different today

As thousands of them are disrobed and perpetrators walk away

 From Mahabharata we need that strategist, and that warrior

 That pragmatic leader and seer that even bravest fear
The country is again in conflict
With many forces internal and external betwixt

 Where are you dear Lord? Will you come down to earth?

 Or are atheists right? You had never really taken birth.

 In your delusion your Meera will be

Timelessly waiting for thee.

Waiting for the next Janmaashtami

This painting is the original work of artist Mukta Gupta

SAW DES

The main  gates of the building were open ,not as usual. After crossing the small garden we knocked on the door. A frail girl opened the door and allowed us to go inside. We climbed up the stairs which had pictures of Jesus Christ and Mother Teresa on the side walls. On ascending the first floor they were there. Five kids with biscuits in their hands. All of them were toddlers. Their eyes twinkled with surprise as they saw us. We sat there in the verandah and soon one of them started to cry. Quickly my friend took the baby in her arms. The baby stopped crying as if mollified by the foreign human touch. The other kids as if jealous followed suit and started to cry. With their heads shaven,dressed in tiny shirts and shorts all of them looked the same.We asked the caretaker the baby’s name as we couldn’t make out if the baby was a girl or a boy. The baby’s name was Rahul.

       We enquired the  whereabouts of the other kids of the orphanage . The caretaker told us that the rest had been taken to witness the flag hoisting in the nearby old age home. I was reminded of the last time we had gone to that same Old age home. A year back a group of friends had thought of doing something productive during weekends. When we had stepped inside the old age home, I was clear I couldn’t volunteer there. The suffering was impalpable and I became aware of my limitation as a humanist. There were some 100 old men and women suffering from Alzheimer ,other ailments and the rest were homeless. That was a sight I had never seen.
  Now,the caretaker  ushered me into the inside rooms that housed cots in which the tiny ones,who were younger than 1 year  slept. She  asked me to help her handle the bottle of milk . In one of those cots something caught my sight. There was a tiny white wrap. The help told me that the baby was merely 2 weeks old.That baby had been left back by the father soon after the mother died during delivery. My friend who had come to the place for the first time was moved and very close to tears.  

    Just then we heard sounds of happy feet clambering up the stairs.The flag hoisting was over  and the sisters were bringing the rest of the kids back . The sisters gave us a smile and asked the other helps to get the kids ready for brunch. At the verandah a diet chart was displayed and it was time for their porridge. The sisters called out names of the  30 kids and started feeding them as it was a quotidian activity for them. We kept watching in awe as each one was being fed. 

  Thousand thoughts floated in my mind.

Do the kids get enough food?  Can an individual really make a difference to a nation? What can India do to reduce the poor –rich disparity ? Isn’t  human population really at tipping point? Is Malthusian Economics really true?  Should philanthropy just be a time pass activity?  Why has the Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charities been charged with conversion?Will media ever stop questioning? Is perfection possible? In this world of globalization do national boundaries matter? Is Independence day to be celebrated with tokenism of flag hoisting? What made me visit the place?What if I had not come here and was cozing in the comfortable pages of my books? Or do I simply come here to assuage my guilt?  Is it only on a national holiday that my conscience suffers a jolt?

  Breaking my thoughtful glare,the sister declared: "Its time for the kids to take their afternoon nap. Please keep coming for they have no one. They just like the human touch."

I silently leave and make no promises.