Sipra's Diary: "To be or............

 

.  To Be Or Not To Be.......

I am a morning bird from my childhood; An unknown competetion with the sun to wake up earlier than it does .Almost every morning  around 5:20/30AM I wake up with the buzzing soliloquy of prince Hamlet 's dialogue  in my mind,"to be or not to be"!
"To do or not to do ,"To go or not to go," finally "To get up or not to get up"for a morning walk; then looking at the time wish a little more sleep... and "we end by a sleep;".....

 No, by sleep I don't mean 'suicide' like Hamlet.  Simply I  sleep  little more to get the sky clear. There are no  hiding characters like  Polonius or claudius for me to eavesdrop; but like a villain the clock hammers my  innocent brain to keep away sleep.

Most of us swing  between this dilemma in the matter of chosing decision;  Our lives  still run through that narrow  half-dark tunnel of "to be or not to be"..........

Hey, Bard of Avon, how did you  tuned in us that hard question in  a simple soliloquy four hundred years ago that perhaps will  eternally run on?.......

debut: Sipra's Diary; MONALISA. as viewed. by me Sipra Roy

debut: Sipra's Diary; MONALISA. as viewed. by me Sipra Roy:                MONALISA:    as   viewed by  me.  Sipra Roy Lines =6o   words=    445     Are you  merely  a portrait? your fame spilled over...

Sipra's Diary; COMMENTARY ON THE POEM "WHY"

      

  Commentary     (On Poem: WHY! )

   Words=459 //page= 2                       

Autobiography or Memoir is written on the basis of one’s ability to collect memories, as one needs to retain or mark the past events and images.

We passed through variety of experiences and covering the whole gamut of emotions in life: Joys and sorrows, love and hate, loss and gain.

 I take part in several memoir classes of seniors.  We share our stories with one another in memoir classes. The focus of most seniors highlight the negative side of life: Such as disease(like cancer),death of beloved near and dear one, neglected and tortured childhood, painful delivery of baby or loss of baby, unhappy marriage ending in divorce, victim of rape, racism, survival of holocaust and so on. These are really hard part of life which is too painful to forget. But isn’t life something more?

    Why fun, humor, at least  experience of occasional stupidity that are experienced in everyday life are so rare to  share  with  the readers to make  them laugh? Bright side of life  remain often shadowed in most memoirs. 

Chirle Chaplin once said,” A day without laughter is a day wasted; laughter is the tonic, a relief from pain. “

    Really, life is a tragedy when seen in close up, but become comedy in long shot; So better to view life not through microscope, but telescope. Memoir is a kind of psychotherapy. Sad moments loose the edginess through catharsis; it becomes metamorphosis in the process of long gap of time !

    In my perception literature is turning to be feminine in gender; female contribution in poetry, fiction, children’s book, and specially cook books and  memoirs  is greater/ larger than that of  the  counter gender. From the latest trend it seems to me that library and bookstores will be flooded with cook-books and memoirs(of the female), except  academic books for the schools and colleges. 

Is it the future of our literature?

It is global pride for the greater participation of women due to the development of  girls’  education..  But there should be balance in every field.‘Law of diminishing returns’ in Economics is not desirable in literature at all.

Then what causes this imbalance or discrepancy?

Is it that interest of male is declining   in literature? Or, piles of cookbooks and personal memoirs are occupying/ (invading!) the intellectual field? In the battle of quality Vs quantity, the quantitative progress should be controlled; so that it does not   supercede  Quality.

It doesn’t indicate the uprising of literature. 

Under the mercy and blessing of internet, number of writers are  growing  more than that of  readers. In this age of Podcast, Instagram,  spotify etc.  people have neither time nor interest  to read lengthy pieces . 

        Literature is same as  the Garden of Eden; Whom to pray to save it from being occupied by weeds and parasites?  To Athena or  to Minerva? or Saraswati  or to surrender  at the alter of AI  or ChatGpt?

                                                End

Sipra's Diary : Birthday and Mother'sDay 2024

 

Today is my birthday......Mother's Day also falls on this month of May. 

What is my birth-right ?.........

 Instead I ask myself what is my duties ; did I do it perfectly at all? .....So many lapses , unwillingly or deliberately............

(I often remember Rousseau's comment :

"Man is born free but everywhere he is in chains.")

So I turn my mind to other direction to avoid regret // lamentation. I remember my mother,  my father which is not novel .Almost everyday I experience so.  In the background of my parent,  I view  Lilliputian image of myself. I am so lucky to be brought up in such a rich joyful environment of parents and extended family, friends.........             What was the source of my home for sustaining peaceful  and joyful environment  in spite of having financial crisis, health problem, maintaining a large family! 

It surprises me that I find my identity  as 'daughter' more strongly. than 

as wife or mother! It is quite unusual.  Just few days ago  we have had  " Mother's Day' of which we never heard of in India.

But why we never celebrated mother's 'birth day' in her whole life ? Why it  never    stroke our mind though we all loved her !.........         My mother lost her mother when she was only eighteen months !

..I wrote an article about my experience of FIRST 'Mother's Day' in  US, 'celebrated by my son. I will try to add that piece if I can do .

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FIRST GIFT ON THE  "MOTHERS’ DAY"

 

 

 

As I grew up in India I did not know or hear about   anything  such as  'Mothers’ Day'. Perhaps all days  in India are considered as Mothers’ day ; Or importance of mothers is taken for granted  without any celebration.   Home.  is not a sweet home without the presence of mother .

      Anyway I came to visit my son in US first on May, 2001.  He lived in Austin . When the  wife of my son ‘s friend asked him what was his plan to celebrate Mothers’ Day ,I thought  it to be celebration of my first visit to him. My son only  grinned vacantly and reply "so far nothing  decided .Nina with  shrinked  eyes ,"O, no; you must plan something ." Perhaps that triggered him.

Next day we had a plan to visit San Antonio, the old capitol of Texas.  On the way there was a great Factory Outlet. I had no interest to halt there because I had no idea that it was worth of seeing.  All the  branded rare articles of the world were available  there and in cheaper price.  It was somewhat like exhibition. My  son bought  a beautiful lemon color coat for me and  a shaving set  for his father  who was very happy to get it. 

I said,” Why, a coat in summer! Now here it is hot as hell !”

My husband said with little  irritation ,” Do you think winter will never come in your life ?  He is giving this   as 'gift' for a special occasion .”

“ Yes ma, it is for the Mother’s Day; you won’t get this brand anywhere at this price! You are free to buy some other items of your choice; but I will not change this one.” said my son.

“Ok, Ok, it is really nice, as I realized  vaguely the occasion ”

That was the first gift of Mothers’ Day in my life. It is still with me .

 

 I asked  often myself why a single day in calendar was not marked  in India to be celebrated for mothers?

  

 While my mother celebrated the birthday for  everyone of us including father without  break! OF course there was no B-day 'party' ;but my mother used to had special  "puja" wishing God's blessing and cooked "Rice Porridge"(which is equivalent to CAKE  in the West)    and gourmet preparations.  Why it didn't   strike ever that mother     also had a birthday ?  She was born someday to bring us all on this earth? 

 When I told this to my brother he also lamented  for this  unintentional  lapse of  our feeling for mother ! Though we all loved our mother.  My other brother  consoled me "here in India  we live in closely-knitted family in much healthy society. we  owe  to  only one mother , and one father ;whereas  in the West most children have  more than single parent ;Some children are away from their biological parent ;so they need  'Mother's Day','Father's Day' for the  recognition  and  renewing  the relationship.We  felt the presence of our parents in    our everyday life  as breathing air ;So we never felt to a single day to be celebrated for them. 

From when this "mothers' day happened to be celebrated. throughout   US as well as the West ?  Perhaps, with  advanced civilization and women education, as women stepped out of home for earning  money  to add prosperity to home!  The absence  of mother created an emptiness at home and wanting the motherly warmth and affinity   to their children .The new prosperity and  long   absence   from home both jointly made new valuations  to the importance  of absentee mothers.  .....Also it may be a successful outcome of feministic movement .

Out of 365 days offering a single day in honor at the alter of pain-taking mother's womb.......some flower bouquet, perfume , fancy dress,  cosmetics or shoes and favourite  dishes or dessert from  gourmet confectionery. and exchanging the warmth of heart with the warmth of summer ;lastly to post  snap on Facebook with cheese smile of happy mothers !  A Country-wide tribute   of US   festival  has become  now global !(but not in our time.) 

Indians are excellent than ape to adapt the art of  imitating .  Some Indian boy, after his arrival in  US, wished  his mother  and sent gift on this particular day,  Mother was very happy to  know the custom   as extra bonus .  Then  the  son  was out of touch for a long time.  

Mother then called her son to say,"Kya beta, Mother day ke bad vul. gaya apne ma-ko?"   

"My son , did you forget your ailing mother who is suffering from artharitis   and loneliness   since  you left  India for job in US and your father passed away on sudden cerebral attack?"

Basically all the festivals ,whether Mother's Day or Valentine's or Thanks Giving are always commercial  with charming gifts, social clothes, shoes ,bags , cakes ,going  restaurant for gourmet food who can afford ! 

 

The motive behind all festivals, either social or religious,  is  more   marketing  of business, more  flourishing  of   finance and   the channeling  of money. 

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Sipra's diary: Reposted>. MIRROR. [modified]

 

                            

 MIRROR   by Sipra Roy

Mirror is an useful glassy object  for reflection.

From my childhood I was too fascinated

To move away from mirror, like Nercissus.

One of my favorite game was to caricature  odd faces 

In front of the mirror  to enjoy the distorted images.

I was crazy for  having some full-sized large mirror .

For frequent transfer, my father avoided fragile furniture.

In those days, at night mirror was covered with lace  

So that it doesn't dazzle, and disallowed us looking own face.-

 Superstitious elders terrorized that  face would be  distorted

 We were innocent to. believe that  and obeyed .

Beauty  would have remained unexplored 

In the absence of mirror .

But mirror is a. deceiver ;

It has the power to distort image,

It is used as great metaphor in literature.

Enid Blyton made  world-wide famous  

In the Rhyme, "Mirror ,mirror on the wall,

Who is the prettiest in the world? 

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Sipra's Diary [ Hamilton. Project] > Autobiography of a pet..>April,2024

 

Title   :     SNOWY , the Pampered pet

My name is Snowy, a  German spitz by birth;

I belonged to Roy family as a puppy of one month;

I heard later from the little daughter that I was 

The most precious birthday-gift and pride in her life !

My memory is sharp to remember my early days.

She called me 'Snowy' as I looked like furry piece of white  ice. 

She recorded  in the album my each activity as her pride piece !

 I felt  sad without her when she went to play with her friends, 

So I barked and  behave ferocious to drive them !

I will narrate  my memoir of thirteen years bit by bit:

On my first night I was inside the mosquito net 

Between mother and daughter, as the  whole night  

I was sleepless  and  whining in unfamiliar. environment! 

 

I was fussy to drink milk unless my little miss 

Feed me with a dropper taking me on her lap.         

 I enjoyed that  pampering!

An ugly kitten used to finish  my milk  from the bowl, 

Me, the poor puppy lacked to attack or even to  howl. 

The senior madam mocked  for that to her daughter,

Who  defended dotingly my sissy nature! 

All these stories I heard only, not remembered!

 Later I grew up as a dare-devil macho to kill seven cats 

Perhaps in revenge and in remembrance of  past insult!

My little miss also grew up to go college leaving home. 

I was so lonely and sad ! I spent the afternoon in gloom.

I waited for evening for the master to come .

  

Out of affection my revered master brought  another puppy 

For my company; it was a 'golden retriever',cute and fluffy.

He grew up as  wild,  notorious  and jealous of me !  

Madam named her "Bicchu" from the very first day . 

He won my master and became his favourite .

Madam noticed and became very  kind and soft to me! 

I was happy to win her support and motherly feeling!

            [ Bicchu=. naughty]

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Sipra's! Dary: "Shifting in other world"[project ]>>PARALLEL UNIVERSE

 

   ALTERNATE REALITY   by Sipra Roy 

 lines>                              Words=

             

What an alluring opportunity to be shifted 

To a 'parallel universe" of  fun and fantasy !

Leaving this monotonous morbid  routined-life

Let me inhale the fresh air (!) to another  prestined place.

 

The planet of Mars, not bad, as the scientists assume  

The atmosphere suits for living creatures !

I prefer to spend  there vacation in the spring season

Neither too cold nor too hot by the scorching sun!

The question  is: does Mars has welcoming spring ,

Like  in  earth  we have ? Let me hope so!

 I must take with me weatherproof cosmic tent,robes.

Two fully re-chargeable i-Phones with  battery-sets ,

Oxygen cylinders for the survival and  i-pad ,for entertainment;

A sleeping bag  to relax, some seeds tolerant of tough climate;

A shovel to scatter seeds for the expedition of the next generation!

For food, pack of fruits, nuts ,chocs  and anti appetite peels;

For "Identity" I prefer  both gender  in Me :'Two -in -One',

So that without any gender conflict I can enjoy the fun!

 Whom should I approach ? Who will provide my spacecraft?  

 Kudos for billionaires like Amazon or Elon Musk with noble heart!

 But  it's a  virtual trip; so I don't need any ticket for spacecraft.

I am the monarch of  my 'Pegasus' for free ride,

 All over the universe !

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Sipra's Diary Poem. SPARKLING YOUTH. by Sipra Roy .

 

 Sparkling Youth.   ( Selected in Florida Poetry Scroll)

We are the angel, angel of change,

To light up new age,

We are restless, we are queer,

We often do great blunder,

Without least  fear.

 

We are the last to be thinker,

Prefer rather to be warrior,

Courage fuels our power

To crush or create new future!

 

We dive deep to the ocean 

And fly high piercing the sky,

Even to snatch the lightning

We are reckless, we’ r dazzling, 

Unfettered sparkling Youth!

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Sipra's Diary: ( Reposted) Profound Paradox

 

                                                Profoud  Paradox: (DEATH)

  Today one senior member of our memoir group passed away. She was sick for last week .She was a German ;May be survivor of holocaust Couple of months ago she went second time ,and for the last time, to visit Germany.

The group praised her "'how courageous lady are you" '!She was also a strong  spiritual lady. I knew her vaguely on personal level. Only one day she asked me ,"are you Indian? I went Tibet and also I am influenced with the religion of Hindu." I was interested to know the story: how was she influenced; who and what made her interested.; My curiosity remained unanswered.  Her memoir was published just on last Thursday, a gift on her birthday by the publisher .( only four days ago).I think she fulfilled her two last wishes : visiting own birthplace after 50 years and publishing her memoir.
Most amazing thing is that we all know that we will die still we aspire to live ,a tremendous desire  for clinging to life .The journey from life to death is really a profound paradox for us.
"O Death where is your sting?"     

The 'sting' is inherent with life  itself  in the denial of death; in the fear of death and in the utopia to remain immortal through fame . When Woody Allen was asked by the journalist ," do you dream to be immortal in the silver screen ? He promptly replied," No, not at all; I want to exist in this apartment , in New York !"

In the Epic of Ramayana, It was advised that because death is inevitable but unpredictable nothing should be delayed for 'tomorrow' which is  also unpredictable: 'Now or Never! '

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Sipra's Diary: HOME (Reposted)>[ Nancy's Art-Workshop]

 

 

"    Home: "What do you mean by HOME". Part(1)

Primarily  home is a place where we take refuge safely ,peacefully; .Love, caring and sharing among the members of family are the basic components that turns a house to sweet home: The age -old adage "home is where the heart is " has become a cliche.

To me, it is neither the beauty of nature with wonderful environment nor a baroque  marvelous piece of mansion decorated with expensive furniture  and  most sophisticated  gadgets;   but the  loving relationship between the members  and interdependency to each other  constitute  the  bond of family,  the plinth of the family who come to  live together in a dwelling place called 'home'; home brings  the desired joy,  peace and security  to everybody  of the family  who belong  to..Home does not refer to structure of some concrete building; it is more personal or emotional refuge; even it can be something abstract. (a place in my mind)

          My father had transferable job in  Indian Railway. So I moved  with parents   from small two bedroom Railway quarter  to big bunglows. with outhouses which were almost near to where I spent my early life.  I, even, did not know the difference  between "home" and the houses my father owned during his service time until his retirement. I consider all of them  equally as my home .

After  marriage  I moved with my husband from small bachelor's house  to bigger  officers' bungalows, cherishing the same feeling. But, by the time  I was then aware of the difference between home and houses.. I never felt that those are  property of company. My children never scratched the wall   with pen or colored pencil unlike most of my friends' houses I noticed the wall marked   dirty with alphabets ABCD and drawings. If asked ,they often shrugged shoulder to say reluctantly,"it is after all company's house, let  our kids enjoy.'

My husband was the first one of his batch to build  and shift to his  own house . I was sad to leave the luxurious company's bungalow and the neighborhood which became as  my extended family.  On the final day of shifting ,tears rolled down my cheeks ,surrounded by neighbours who came to say 'bye'. They consoled me "you are the lucky one among us to have your own house . Cheer up ! See, your husband looks sad to see you   crying.  give him a smile! We all will go in your house warming and stay overnight.' They wiped my eyes. 

As my husband  passed away suddenly with cerebral attack, and I was ill ,my daughter brought me here with her posting in New York. Not only family and home but uprooted from own country , own land ,it was quite challenging for me, and for any woman of sixty plus,to replant in a new land with different culture,  rituals.

From early life I was an arduous lover of academic life and interested in art and creativity.Soul finds its own community,  so I did .

Now I don't feel disconnected; I attend  different religious retreat, poetry class, memoir writing ,Art, music drama. I don't feel lonely .Even in pandemic. I feel sad for others who have lost their near and dear ones ;also for immense loss of lives ,loss of jobs, loss of confidence but not for myself ; I am not burdened  by the  shadow of engulfing fear, and confusion of the future.There is no doubt that this pandemic will create a revolutionary change . Let us hope positive. Every creation  comes after destruction.

A new global society will emerge out of the chaos of pandemic .

Part (2).      What do you mean by "home"?

 

 Mother nature  provided shelter to our ancestors in mountain caves ,forests and trees which might be named as primitive homes.  They lived decades after decades as  long as they were hunters and gatherers ; 

As they learnt farming ,they had to wait  in one place for getting crops. They built  huts with log or mud to stay;  Change  to agricultural life from nomadic life was the first step of civilization.It continued a long time.

When agricultural life reached  Industrial Age , civilization ran in galloping step with  booming scientific innovations like steam engine, airplane, electricity, radio, printing press, telephone , cars ,TV, refrigerator .Importance of machine captures a lion share in human life as it brought more comfort ,more luxury.

From forest and caves dwelling, tribal life upgraded to sky-scrapper multi-storied metropolis via  villages, towns , cities and metro-cities.  Perhaps  the "divine dissatisfaction"in human nature pushed him to achieve more and more  without limit.

With immense intellectual power , innovations, now in its pinnacle,  captured  the digital world.

After achieving dream house ,car ,wealth , everything still remains some empty spaces in human mind : craving for 'what is not"!  

...What is that?

FREEDOM. Freedom from bondings ; freedom from all the  mundane achievements ! An eternal  human  wish to fly  like a bird in the open sky!

Excerpt from'In quest of right..........

 

   Finally at the age of his forty eight Suraj Bajoria decided  to  marry  'Desi' Indian  girl  from his own clan, own land of Rajasthan.

He shared this news first to his bosom friend and business partner Brijlal .

  Hearing this news Brijlal  screamed in cheers and dance with the wine-glass in hand,  hovering dramatically over his head ! 

 ... "So your 'eyes are opened' at last, hmm  !''  But who and how eyes get rid of enchantment from fantasy, color? Is it  betray, or loss of love?  

 Let us order first some strong whisky for guts before  celebrating  the emotional story!"

They were sitting in a  a corner table of casino bar of Las Vegas. The lighted swimming pool  was full of glamorous  bikini-bitches  with  playing eye-catching romantic games with their fans, and  toy-boys.

 Looking  casually at them,  through glass-wall  Suraj  replied smilingly, "nno, not any such spicy stories as you think." Suraj pitched the cigaret-butt in the astray to continue ,

..."It is just my decision. I earned huge wealth; I enjoyed the best physical pleasure that money can purchase last twenty six years ;  I am     now tired to sleep with  any  woman, whether new or old, glamorous or ugly!" 

Suraj stood up for washroom.  

Looking at his strong and stout manly structure, with sky-blue polo shirt and white  jeans  and Reebok shoes  Brijalal  appreciated ,"You still look not more than thirty-four/ five. Then pointing to his own pampered tummy he continued, 

"look! this is the contribution  of extra-care of my loving wife ."

Suraj: Let us go to my room.

Brij:   Why room ?  Here are lot of toilets to release !   

But he followed his friend unwillingly, as suraj  seemed to flee from the place in a hurry. But he gazed at the eye-catching swimming pool while walking  through the lounge.They came to the room  in roof-top sky-lounge  by elevator  . 

Coming back from washroom Suraj said to encourage his friend ,

"Hey buddy, don't lose your heart ;You will enjoy better the swimming pool -scenario from my window glass; look, here is also a  telescope, " he removed the  curtain  to have a clear view  of the   telescope .

Then turning to him said, "though  the purpose of telescope is to see the nature with its mountain desert etc and not for the bikini-beauties view, you know ! "

" I have to call now the waiter for dinner to give room-service." 

 He handed over the heavy book of menu to him .

"You will enjoy the drama of bikini-beauty  with delicious dinner along .....with my story !"

"Story?  What story?" 

Door bell knocks.

  With the door-bell the waiter entered  and took the order of dinner .

Suraj adjusted the angle of telescope to his friend's sofa and sat comfortably opposite to him . 

I saw the woman with whom I slept  just two months ago  in Seattle  on the swimming pool.

"a-aw, show me , show me through the telescope !" After surveying the woman   Brij commented disappointingly," Umm, attractive figure but so black, .. darker than coal, just a burnt log ! 

At last you had this  one! what's  the interesting story about this black woman ?  Is she from Ghana or Kenya?"

Suraj ,"No, she is Brazelian  by birth but what is interesting of her that she is  really  amazon lady  as a sleeping partner!'"

Brij:  "Waow, go on!"

Suraj:  You know I avoid to meet  twice any 'same' woman.  Officially I maintained  my image as 'cle-an  gentleman'. My supplier agent knows that. But I met this woman twice before meeting her in Seattle . First in Philadelphia  and then in Chicago. I enjoyed  greatly her companion,  I nicknamed her as 'Cobra' to my  agent's list. Last one year I didn't meet any other women . If she was not available then I optioned  'better to fast' .

 At one point I decided to 'own' her by marrying.  Again I hesitated to take any quick action; I was suffering in  the dilemma whether  such women are eligible to be 'wife' to a dedicated husband?

I paid my agent some money in -'advance'  three months ago and at last I met her in Seattle . I booked her for the whole day, not only for the night. I spent the 'day' with her first time and performed my job in phone . Every time  I was thinking to propose her, some  phone call was interrupting along with my hesitation.

 We spent a  wild,  slushy night, but still proposal remained pending! Next morning I had early flight to leave Seattle. It was surprising why a veteran womanizer like me was sweating a lot for simple marriage proposal to a known woman?.....

Then I decided I must tell her before leaving for airport. When I woke up in the morning, I saw my Cobra, fully dressed up , was sitting on the sofa.

I was happy to see Cobra waiting on the sofa . She always used to leave my room earlier than me, (as a precondition  with my agent ).

Giving  her a warm morning-kiss  I went washroom to  dress up . Getting ready I came near Cobra with greeting -smile on my face Cobra stood up in front me to ask , "when we are going to meet next?"

My heart danced in joy;"Yes darling , I want to tell you on the way of airport."

Still then I was too  stupid to imagine  to get a poisonous  bite from

Cobra the woman, my fond lady! The name given by me to that woman was so appropriate !

.........................................................................................[.Excerpt]

Sira's Diary: Recollections:[ Sanskrit. Language]May,2024

I learnt  Sanskrit grammar and Maths from my father. Starting from my school to college I always got full marks in Sanskrit grammar. Most of my friends disliked Sanskrit and they felt relieved from it when they were in college !In my time Sanskrit was compulsory in school syllabus. 

They were surprised to know that I loved the subject!

My father used to say if your  concept  of the Sanskrit grammar had been well, the grammar of English or Bengali would  never be of any problem.

 It was true  for me; I always scored  full marks  in  the grammar  of any languages.

I wanted to write what I explored...........

 

In Sanskrit , there are three genders : Male ,Female & Neutral.[Or Kliblinga]

I haven't  heard  yet whether any  other than Sanskrit language mentioned about the third gender.  Since  the rebellious noises of LGBTQ. and acceptance  of existence  to their demand by Court in most civilized States , my adoration and faith on this divine language has become  enchanting; I am curious to know deeply the language .

We had a 'panini vyakaran' in my Parents' house . Parent passed away ; parents house are owned by those to whom  old books are nothing but garbage!

From last few years I am feeling the importance of  ancient  languages.

In sanskrit 'Kabya' I found lots of 'tribal' terms too. in  the Sanskrit .........

The very Languages on which  knowledge , the whole gamut of informations  are based, have been  pathetically neglected  for the new quest of scientific innovations. 

For a long time scientific innovations and marvels of technology  charmed us ,   mesmerized us while  culture/research  of languages was overlooked, neglected about  it as an orphan. Both literature and Scientific research  are necessary equally  for keeping the balance of  human civilization;

Otherwise  human  civilization would be  limping.Each and every language is vitally important for human progress.

It is a great blessing that Sanskrit is the ancient language which was able to retain itself   in 'Panini 'which was the most ancient grammar book :  ...  'perhaps nothing was lost' .  We are grateful to the pioneers of 'YOU TUBE ,  Face-book ,   Google ,Wikipedia, etc for recovering the 'Panini'.

More than ten thousand ago Sanskrit language  acknowledged the existence of 'Third Gender'!  Isn't it amazing ?

I composed a poem 11years ago about 'HIJRAH'.[= third Gender ]  I remembered  it was the evening of  mothers' day, 2013.  

It seemed  to me that the poem was written by some spirit through me.

Consciously ,  I never knew that I had  any soft corner for this tribe..... While writing, so much tear rolled down  from my eyes to wet the page of the copy that many words blurred.  Last year I saw the old copy with distorted words, while cleaning the cupboard . I restored the poem !

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