The Non-Facebook Post #107

"That's a classic picture of a student: you sitting here by the Art building, under a tree, book in your lap..."

Random remarks by genial passersby on lazy summer afternoons that kinda make your day.

The Non-Facebook Post #106

A 9-year old’s song for a broken heart!

I took my heart over hills and mountains and the tops of trees to bring it to you. And then you smushed it! 

The Non-Facebook Post #105

Let’s begin with the latest filler word of the moment – so.

So, last night I was reading out a bedtime story to a perceptive 7-year old. It was titled “The Flying Prince.” The story began with introducing a prince who encounters 4 “thieving trolls” in a forest. The trolls had stolen four magic items – a carpet, a bowl, and two others that I forget – from a village. The narration described that the Prince then “took” the items from the trolls while they were busy accomplishing a test he had put them to and made away with the loot. At this, the insightful little 7-year old beside me shrieked, “He’s a bad guy. He’s mean. I hope the Princess doesn’t marry him.”

And that set me thinking about a lot of different themes coming through from this juvenile story. The 7-year old was right – it was a mean thing for the Prince to do. He, effectively, stole from the trolls, disregarding the fact that they themselves had stolen the items. As rightly pointed out, that was a mean thing to do. And even more rightly stated, the Princess he was trying to woo should not have married him.

It also struck me how labels define the character and personality of a person. He was a “Prince” and so his actions were “right”. They were “Trolls” and everything they did was automatically “wrong” even though the prince committed the same base thievery as they did. Additionally, this story’s narrative did not care to sketch out details of what made the trolls the bad guys when these characters were introduced. It simply said they were “trolls.” And that’s it – that’s apparently sufficient to criminalize them.  

I don’t know about the trolls but the Prince definitely had a little troll in him.

The Non-Facebook Post #104

I'm passing through another one of those turbulent phases of life. It's yet another time of flux for me. But, I've been getting by - with a little help from my friends. (And oh, not in the nasty way the Beatles meant it,  no!; just in the sincere, literal way that it reads - friends, actual people. Also, I had no idea about the lyrics' subterfuge until, well, a few mintues after I wrote this post and mulled over it when it slowly hit the pea-brain, after which I did some quick Google research that confirmed it.)

This post is for my friends - my support system. Thank you for being such great people. Thank you for being my inspiration, for making me want to become more responsible, for making me want to be a better person.

I've always been the quiet kind. I've never initiated conversations or friendships. So it surprises me how I've ended up with friends - actual friends.

Yeah, I've been getting by with a little help from my friends. 

The Non-Facebook Post #103

Some days, thoughts and memories suffice to keep you connected to home.
Some days, you wear the charm bracelet your Mom gave you to feel closer to home.

The Non-Facebook Post #102

Some days there's an abundance of food. So much, that you don't know what to do with it. Then there are other days when you look around and find nothing to eat.
It's like how some days you get so much sleep, it almost makes you lethargic for the rest of the day. Other days, you go through the day's motions like a sleepless zombie.

Like life. Dhoop and chaon. Light and shade. 

The Non-Facebook Post #101

Alright, I am one in a million. No, really!
When the world goes right, I'm going left - in my zumba class that is! When my ENTIRE zumba class has their right hand up in the air and right leg out, there is just one person who's doing the exact opposite. Sigh!
It's some wiring in my brain. And it comes so easy and naturally to me too, to go left when everyone's going right. Then I have to pause and skip a beat or two to get back in the same direction as the others.
Funnily enough, this was what my brain wanted to do during a western dance with my partner. I could see the frustration on his face as he was trying to lead but my 'one-in-a-million' brain wiring kept getting in the way! Well, I guess it's going to take a guy with a special kind of patience to be my dance partner.

Zumba on Wednesday too. I'm all ready to jive the unbeaten path again!