As a child we wanted to possess different things. From fur bears to real puppies, we wanted to have millions of things. Like this recently I came across a song written in 1950s, a girl says 'I want a Hippopotamus'.
Listen to the song, its refreshing.
Lyrics:
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
Don't want a doll, no dinky Tinker Toy
I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
I don't think Santa Claus will mind, do you?
He won't have to use our dirty chimney flue
Just bring him through the front door, that's the easy thing to do
I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles, no rhinoceroses
I only like hippopotamuses
And hippopotamuses like me too
Mom says the hippo would eat me up, but then
Teacher says a hippo is a vegeterian
There's lots of room for him in our two-car garage
I'd feed him there and wash him there and give him his massage
I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles or rhinoceroseses
I only like hippopotamuseses
And hippopotamuses like me too!
Friday, April 30, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Waiting For Mahatma - R.K. Narayan
Author: R.K.Narayan
Publishers: Indian Thought Publishers
Pages: 256
Falling in love, is a like new birth. If you know the men who fell in love, you might have understood that change or new birth. The way he change, depends on the girl.
This is my first read of R.K.Narayan's works. I wanted to surprise myself, so I avoided Malgudi Days and took Waiting for Mahatma.
Bharathi and her love transforms Sriram from being a lazybum into a man, who fights British, who fights his own people for supporting British and atlast a man of dream. Yes, the dream of marrying Bharathi at any cost. He takes orders from Bharathi, goes from villages to villages to educate people about 'Quit India Movement'. On their road to marriage, Bharathi and Sriram comes across various obstacles; Bharathi surredering herself to police, Sriram comes in touch with a terrorist (who follows Subash Chandra Bose), and then imprisonment of Sriram also.
Through the characters of his novel, R.K.Narayan expresses his views on the various aspects of Indian Freedom Struggle. He supports Gandhiji's views through Bharathi, expresses his goodwill on Subash Chandra Bose through Jagadhish(the terrorist) and finally taking a samll dig at the congressmen for the benefits they enjoy in prison, through a fellow prisoner.
The story ends with Gandhiji given permission on Bharathi and Sriram's marriage before he was shot dead. Waiting for Mahatma is a well compilation of Indian Freedom Struggle, humor and romance. Sriram takes an unusual journey to marry Bharathi.
This book is a nice read, especially a good start for English Literature.
Love can change anybody.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Going to School...
Have you cried when you are going to school?
This morning, I saw a cute small girl crying on her way to school. She was escorted by a housemaid armed with a fresh stick broken from a tree. What a violence it is?
Why children cry when they go to school? Now my nephew builds reasons to escape from going to play school.
My parents wanted me to do well at school. I did my best. But I never wanted to go to school. Sitting 8 hours doing nothing; but to open your ear to hear series of lectures. History, Geography, Science they changed every one hour. Except mathematics I loved nothing. From my twelfth standard, up to my undergraduate I slept in classes which I felt not interesting. What’s the good in learning the brain of sheep?
I felt school is a jail with benches, black boards, fellow students and a master jailor. It stops our creativity. It said whatever on the print is correct; the teacher is always right; it asked me to write between two lines (though it had no impact on my handwriting); it asked me to reach perfection – the virgin destination.
I was advised talking; laughing, even smiling is a crime in a classroom. We were canned for above said crimes. One time I was heavily canned for smiling.
The ugliest and fearful thing about schools is comparison. It compared me with everything and everybody. I was told I am short; I am plump; bad at memory. And it compared so many people with me also. It taught to look outside; never inside me. Think its how bad and foolish to compare Sachin Tendulkar and Usain Bolt about their running talent. Schools are good at doing these kinds of comparisons.
You may have very good memories about your school. It’s not like I hate my school life, I enjoyed very little. I can’t get myself out of these bad comparisons imposed on me. The thing I am ashamed of is I don’t have contact with any of my school friends.
The kid who cried this morning may have dreamt to do something else that can’t have anything to do with her school.
Think what your child wants? Happiness or false comparisons?
This morning, I saw a cute small girl crying on her way to school. She was escorted by a housemaid armed with a fresh stick broken from a tree. What a violence it is?
Why children cry when they go to school? Now my nephew builds reasons to escape from going to play school.
My parents wanted me to do well at school. I did my best. But I never wanted to go to school. Sitting 8 hours doing nothing; but to open your ear to hear series of lectures. History, Geography, Science they changed every one hour. Except mathematics I loved nothing. From my twelfth standard, up to my undergraduate I slept in classes which I felt not interesting. What’s the good in learning the brain of sheep?
I felt school is a jail with benches, black boards, fellow students and a master jailor. It stops our creativity. It said whatever on the print is correct; the teacher is always right; it asked me to write between two lines (though it had no impact on my handwriting); it asked me to reach perfection – the virgin destination.
I was advised talking; laughing, even smiling is a crime in a classroom. We were canned for above said crimes. One time I was heavily canned for smiling.
The ugliest and fearful thing about schools is comparison. It compared me with everything and everybody. I was told I am short; I am plump; bad at memory. And it compared so many people with me also. It taught to look outside; never inside me. Think its how bad and foolish to compare Sachin Tendulkar and Usain Bolt about their running talent. Schools are good at doing these kinds of comparisons.
You may have very good memories about your school. It’s not like I hate my school life, I enjoyed very little. I can’t get myself out of these bad comparisons imposed on me. The thing I am ashamed of is I don’t have contact with any of my school friends.
The kid who cried this morning may have dreamt to do something else that can’t have anything to do with her school.
Think what your child wants? Happiness or false comparisons?
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Why are you Shouting?
My friend Asaithambi sent me this story. Short story, Great lesson.
A saint asked his disciples, 'Why do we shout in anger?
Why do people shout at each other when they are upset?'
Disciples thought for a while, one of them said, 'Because we lose our calm, we shout for that.'
'But, why to shout when the other person is just next to you?' asked the saint.
'Isn't it possible to speak to him or her with a soft voice?
Why do you shout at a person when you're angry?'
Disciples gave some other answers but none satisfied the saint.
Finally he explained, 'When two people are angry at each other, their hearts distance a lot.
To cover that distance they must shout to be able to hear each other.
The angrier they are, the stronger they will have to shout to hear each other through that great distance.'
Then the saint asked, 'What happens when two people fall in love?
They don't shout at each other but talk softly, why?
Because their hearts are very close. The distance between them is very small...'
The saint continued, 'When they love each other even more, what happens?
They do not speak, only whisper and they get even closer to each other in their love.
Finally they even need not whisper, they only look at each other and that's all.
That is how close two people are when they love each other.'
When you argue do not let your hearts get distant, do not say words that distance each other more, else there will come a day when the distance is so great that you will not find the path to return.
Why do people shout at each other when they are upset?'
Disciples thought for a while, one of them said, 'Because we lose our calm, we shout for that.'
'But, why to shout when the other person is just next to you?' asked the saint.
'Isn't it possible to speak to him or her with a soft voice?
Why do you shout at a person when you're angry?'
Disciples gave some other answers but none satisfied the saint.
Finally he explained, 'When two people are angry at each other, their hearts distance a lot.
To cover that distance they must shout to be able to hear each other.
The angrier they are, the stronger they will have to shout to hear each other through that great distance.'
Then the saint asked, 'What happens when two people fall in love?
They don't shout at each other but talk softly, why?
Because their hearts are very close. The distance between them is very small...'
The saint continued, 'When they love each other even more, what happens?
They do not speak, only whisper and they get even closer to each other in their love.
Finally they even need not whisper, they only look at each other and that's all.
That is how close two people are when they love each other.'
When you argue do not let your hearts get distant, do not say words that distance each other more, else there will come a day when the distance is so great that you will not find the path to return.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)