Wednesday, January 31, 2018
the sun and her flowers
Monday, January 29, 2018
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Silence
There is no perfect life around;
Once there were limbs, dark
That should have been entwined
In embraces and songs to be sung
To cheer up our spirits low,
And fights that ended in kisses.
It was a perfect life that went by,
But these eyes mirror falsely
What once was so true for us,
Smiles for smiles, tears for tears
Not these shadows on the faces
That sense the imperfect us.
If it were that simple to set right
All the imperfections in me,
All the imperfections in you
No words are good enough;
For it all began with a smile;
And ended in perfect silence.
Thursday, January 25, 2018
THE WARRIOR OF LIGHT: PAULO COELHO AND HIS BOOKS
A warrior of light values a child’s eyes because they are able to look at the world without bitterness. When he wants to find out if the person beside him is worthy of his trust, he tries to see him as a child would. (The Manual of the Warrior of Light).
Paulo Coelho, the literary
alchemist, was born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, in August 1947. He was a highly
successful songwriter for the rock star Raul Seixas until he met with his
mentor who advised him to go on a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. This
walk changed his life and he converted to Christianity. This life-defining
journey forms the theme of his first novel The
Pilgrimage, published in 1987. He advocates through this book that “the
extraordinary is always found in the way of the common people."
Coelho’s second book The Alchemist has become a universally
admired modern classic because of its allegorical nature. It describes the
journey of a young Andalusian shepherd boy named Santiago to the pyramids of
Egypt in search of a treasure and the philosophy of the book is lies in these
lines: “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to
achieve it."
Brida is Coelho's third novel and narrates the story of young woman
who experiments with sorcery and other magical traditions. In this novel, he
dealt with the theme of the feminine face of God, which was a strange idea to
most people.
The Valkyries is about the exorcism of personal demons and
discovering one's strength. This autobiographical novel narrates how Paulo and
his wife Chris go on a spiritual quest to the arid Mojave Desert to meet the
Valkyries, a group of warrior women who travel the desert on motorcycles.
By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept, Veronika Decides to Die and The Devil and Miss Prym are part of a
trilogy called "On the Seventh Day". This trilogy is a week in the
life of someone ordinary to whom something extraordinary happens.
The Fifth Mountain is based on the story of Elijah from the Bible
and explores the prophetic questioning of authority, rebellion and liberation.
At the same time the novel is a powerful metaphor of human self-confidence and
strong desire for self-fulfillment by helping other humans.
The Manual of the Warrior of Light is a collection of Paulo
Coelho's teachings summed up into one volume. It includes proverbs, extracts
from the Tao Te Ching, the Bible, the book of Chuang Tzu, the Talmud and
various other sources, and is written in the form of short philosophical
passages.
Eleven Minutes narrates the story of Maria, a young girl from a
remote village of Brazil, who goes to seek her fortune in Switzerland, only to
find that reality is lot harder than she expected. But when she least expects
it, she experiences love.
The Zahir is about a bestselling
novelist who enjoys his luxurious and peaceful life, until the inexplicable
disappearance of his wife from their Paris home. Coelho compares a marriage
with a set of railway tracks which always stay together but cease to come any
closer. This novel is journey from a stagnant marriage and love to the
realization of unseen but ever increasing gravity between the two souls.
In Like the Flowing River, Coelho offers his personal reflections
on a wide range of subjects from archery and music to elegance, travelling and
the nature of good and evil. He shows us how life has lessons for us in the
greatest, smallest and most unusual of experiences.
The Witch of Portobello starts with the death of the main character
Athena and is narrated from the perspectives of many people who knew her. They
each provide a different view of her, describing not only what they saw and
experienced but adding their own impressions, interpreting her through their
own beliefs and fears.
The Winner Stands Alone is set at Cannes during the Film Festival
and narrates the epic drama and tension between the three main characters-
Igor, Hamid and Gabriela in a 24 hour period. He offers a novel full of
suspense, a mirror image of the world we live in, where our commitment to
luxury and the success of any cost often prevents us from hearing what the
heart actually whispers. He points out that money, power and fame are what
drives most people.
Aleph is an autobiographical novel that depicts his search for
spiritual renewal and growth. Coelho decides to travel, to experiment, to
reconnect with people and the world. This journey helps him to open up to
friendship, love, faith and forgiveness and be stronger in the challenges of
life.
Coelho has written more than
twenty novels and his recent work Manuscript
found in Accra deals with the story of an Englishman who discovers a
manuscript that figures an ancient alchemist named Copt, who answers questions
of a crowd who are gathered inside the city gates of Jerusalem in 1099. What is
success?” poses the Copt: “It's being able to go to bed each night with your
soul at peace.” His works focus on the discovery of the self as means of
spiritual fulfillment.
Friday, January 19, 2018
A piece of cake
I have read that how you eat a slice of cake shows how much discipline you have, whether you start with the icing and leave the rest or eat it slowly savouring its delight. Some eat the icing first, those who like the showy life and leave the rest behind while some eat it slowly deliberately enjoying it fully in a Zen Buddhist fashion, the best and the worst in the same fashion. Might appear like a crude philosophy of life but these are some thoughts on baking red velvet cakes for the last two days.
Like most of the Malayali public, I met the red velvet cake through the popular Malayalam movie Premam. In the movie, the hero wins the heart of the girl he marries by introducing this new variety to her. There were a few set of things that the films made into fashion- pimples, long unmanageable curls, bragging ala the professori mode, the narrative of having more than love affairs or failures or the song Malare, it is this variety of cake that became so popular thanks to the film.
When I went for attending the cake baking class, I found this variety to be tedious owing to the addition of food colour, which is cochineal red. Now, almost an year later and many other experiments later especially on Valentine's day for colleagues (who unfortunately are guinea pigs and foodies) I thought the time for the Red Velvet Cake has come. The result is an amazing epiphany into the long journey of cake-baking, battling fears about succeeding and finally feeling that thrill which comes on watching the tiny hands fighting to finish off my red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. What appears as a piece of cake is in fact a long journey in the learning curve though!
Editing
This blog has been temporarily withdrawn for rewriting and editing purposes. Thank you for supporting it for the last 9 years. @maria joy
Thursday, January 11, 2018
Our day of love
When
the morning light drained through the windows she opened her eyes. Slowly she
became conscious of everything around her. Last night, she had fallen asleep
crying. Now her heart was empty but soon thoughts of reasoning and doubt would
cloud it again. It was a day she had dreaded all this time. Throughout all the
happy days the shadow of this inevitable day was on her happiness, on their
happiness.
Back
from bath, she thought, this one day I can look like an unhappy broken-hearted
girl and make him unhappy. So she chose
her brightest smile and her brightest clothes and put them on with care. He
would be waiting for her at the usual place, with a smile. How will I hide my
heart from him, her mind asked her. She walked to the usual place with a bowed
down heart and a bright face.
From
the first glance itself of her walking in that resplendent dress, he read
through her veneer of cheerfulness easily. How to calm her, he thought. His
heart wanted to protect her from everything, make her his, so that she would
never have to face her troubles again. Yet he didn’t move at all and looked at
her with the utmost attention.
As
if to read his thoughts, she looked straight into his eyes, reading deep into
his soul with her deep sad eyes. In that one single glance, much was said.
Without even uttering a word, he understood that the end had begun and smiled
like he expected it all along like a stoic warrior sentenced to death. She
didn’t move but went on looking at him with the same calmness.
He
moved his hand to touch her cheek. She twined his hand in hers and placed it
against her cheek. Slowly a tear fell on his hand. Then more came while she
sobbed aloud. Now he couldn’t bear all this distance. He leaned close to her and
kissed her forehead. She smiled through her tears and rested her head against
his chest. Hugging each other, they sat for long in silence.
When
her tears ceased, she looked at him with a strange calmness and smiled. This
smile was from heart where a strange silence took possession of her. When tears
had purged the dross out of her mind and the emptiness in the heart was gone,
what she felt was hope. Nothing could cast a shadow on their bliss again. As
long as they lived, as long as death took one of them away, there was hope for
them. An overwhelming love for him flowed in her heart. She took his hand and
asked him to hug her tight and not to let her go to a universe of loss. Her
eyes filled with tears for an instant. He held her tight and promised her that
he will be with her till the end of his life.
Priceless
There were times when I have struggled a balance between my dreams
of material wealth and spiritual happiness. Not that there were many
possessions, a bare room that looked more like a scholar's study than a girl's
bedroom but there was always a need to keep it spick and span.
There was this craving for possessions later always caused by an
awareness of a lack looking at the wealthy and the rich. Then now, when it is possible
to have possessions and objects that one wants, this strange heart wants
nothing but to be left at peace, to know the wisdom of simplicity and of
keeping away from needless clutter.
It wants not to learn the price of new desirables but to keep against
its heart the priceless value of timeworn possessions, worn-out words, tired
dreams and old loves of words, coffee, wine, music and you.
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