Stop.Think before you shoot!

"Live the moment, sans photos" reads the heading of an article in today's newspaper.I was intrigued by the introduction which asked people to give up the obsession with the camera- recording and sharing every moment,as studies proved that it was harming memory.
Dr.Linda Henkel from Fairfield University has published a related article in Psychological Science regarding this.According to researchers, recording moments rather than experiencing them, saw people eventually less likely to recall them.
Today we rely heavily on the 'extended memory' of computers and the internet to hold our memories.People are always ready to grab their phones or cameras mindlessly,ending up with thousands of pictures that they share on their social network or shared spaces.When people rely on technology to 'remember' for them it has a negative impact on how well they actually remember them,the article went on to say.
I've felt this too often in weddings and on holidays.Rather than enjoy the festivities and atmosphere,people (mostly family members) behind cameras are clicking away trying to capture every moment in the quest of a great photo.They are actually helping out the other set of people who enjoy the festivities or holiday with their senses,capturing color,fragrance,light,conversation and a thousand little details unhindered by the devices.Looking at a picture for these people can bring back sweet memories.Whereas those wielding heavy cameras miss out on the nuances of the captured frame.
In family functions wouldn't it be better for a paid photographer to slog his way around ?His involvement and interest in the family is missing anyway and if he is a professional ,he would do a good job anyway.That would give the family the luxury of 'uploading' pictures they captured with their senses and retrieve them at will to relish the happy moments.Looking at photos will then strengthen those memories.Pictures obviously have true meaning when you have experienced those moments.For example :
If you sat beside a bubbling river for thirty minutes a single snapshot can help you capture the moment.For thirty minutes you have heard the music of the water on the rocks,been brushed by the cold spray,seen the dappled sunlight on the waters,felt the sun on your skin,seen floating clouds and flying birds,held smooth pebbles ....... Believe me even 300 pictures won't help you remember all this if you were clicking away like a maniac.
Having said that,I still remain grateful to all those marvelous cameramen whose pictures of wildlife,nature ,the world around and beyond us, let us for a moment to be transported to a place far away.We probably derive a fraction of what a person who was present there experienced,but still it is a gift.
My laptop's hard disk just crashed last week and thankfully a last minute backup salvaged pictures that were valuable.Not too many to hinder the joyful experience of those moments,those pictures can trigger the senses again.
So stop and think before you shoot.Remember some moments can be savored and stored for eternity without a device!It is not your job to chronicle every moment of your life through pictures-Just be present with your senses.(For the compulsive shooters -practice restraint).

Getting back on track after 11520 minutes!

It happens sometimes and quite often too, that our best laid plans get derailed.I threw myself into a lazy week,not writing, not wanting to write because of so many things that,(now look trivial) just shoved me off my writing schedule last weekend.
I wish I had got back earlier .Laziness I realize is no worse than a Himalayan avalanche;feeding on excuses,self pity,regret and total lack of motivation,a little ball of lazy snow just grew into a deadly avalanche over an entire week.
"Don't write.Take it easy.You are not getting anywhere with your writing anyway.A few articles and a story and you stake claim to being a writer?Just cook,clean,read novels and nap.The blog and all your writing can take a vacation."
The feeling grew stronger with the passing of each non-writing day.In a stupid way I felt relaxed; 'Great!no need to break my back typing nonsensical stuff and dreaming of my books filling the book shelves' .How easy it was to just slip and slide away.
Yet there is a resilient part of me that forced me to look up inspirational quotations and drag myself back to my writing desk.Now this part of me cannot give up and keeps saying in a small insistent voice,"Get back on track,at least try to write.It's no picnic;thousands of words,drafts and single mindedness have got established authors where they are today .When we see them breezily accept the awards and accolades none of the loneliness and struggle is visible.It's not just luck.Build your writing muscle.Six months into writing regularly have got you six articles published in a leading newspaper and a short story in a popular magazine.One step at a time and let's see where you go".
The shirker in me is a strong bully and generally lets me get off with lazing.But the persistent needling little voice breaks through the avalanche and I am pulled back into sunshine.
Yes,like the Buddha said ,"You yourself,as much as anybody in the entire universe,deserve your love and affection",I am listening to that small voice that pulled me out of a snow fall of 11520 minutes when I did not write.
I did not berate myself too much-just forgave myself .
Sheepishly I am back to being my motivated self and shamefully rue the irrevocable loss of a good eight days.I have resolved to stay on track,however wobbly the going gets,because I really want to get there with my writing.
No matter what lies ahead,at least I'll know I tried.

Memories of a place we called home.

When I see the family of construction workers living in makeshift dwellings on site, I wonder at the memories their children will carry of this early home.
We never forget our childhood :first playmates ,the games we played,the trees we climbed,the aroma of food and a million other details.
If you take me back to the home where I lived as a child,I can even show you where I ate watermelon and launched the seeds directly into the small pit -a  washing stone in the backyard.Or where I grazed my arm really badly,or the point I launched a used tire to set it rolling down the slope,or where in the gutter I crashed when I forgot how to turn on my cycle......
At least for me I remember vividly my childhood home and all my friends.There was a permanence to those memories that was a solid block in my recollections of  childhood.Happy childhood is a treasure that many of us take for granted.
The worker's children have fun playing with other children on the streets.Their  mother is cooking a meal outside on the ground.The children go to a government school nearby.They are clothed in clean hand- me- downs.They seem well fed and contented.Yet ,as the house their parents are building with their hands will soon be complete,they will pack their meager possessions and start life again at another construction site.Their friends from the wealthy homes will soon erase them from their minds.
Children babysit their younger siblings and some older ones help carry bricks and sieve the sand.Another earning member and the family breathes easy.Maybe they can now afford tidbits from the hotel,a new dress,a pair of slippers or a movie.
The parents continue in making the new place a home.If the father isn't drinking and beating the family in fits of sudden anger,they are able to provide a reasonably good home in every new home they help build.
I hope these children carry happy memories of the people who lived in the various streets and treated them kindly.They got to play owners of a dwelling they helped take shape by living, eating and sleeping for a year under its roof.Their tears and laughter are in the very bricks they carried with their small hands and the sand they frolicked on with the stray dogs.
The smell of hot food and voices of sleepy children drift through the streets and the poor playmates slumber for a time in a large house with a solid roof,electricity and water.I hope this life impels the young to work harder and desire to own a strong little home of their own.Their children will have their own neighbors as playmates and they don't have to live on borrowed joy for the most precious and innocent phase of their lives.Let them carry good memories of the place we call home.

Books by weight?

Any book fair advertised in the newspaper has me waiting with eager anticipation,this involving checking the paper regularly and hoping a last minute cancellation wouldn't rob me of the pleasure of exploring the fair.Last year it was cancelled because the organizers were being offered three days for the fair and they wanted an entire week.

Jaipur saw two big book fairs organised by two different newspapers separately every year.Once a roving newspaper cameraman caught us browsing books at a stall and the kids saw themselves in the newspaper the next day.The only headache being the loud music played on loudspeakers repeatedly (usually a song for little children).

Browsing through books is a wonderful process: Something about the cover catches your eye,you read the title and note the name of the author,despite the 'bestseller....' claim you read a little bit about the book on the back cover,flip through the pages carefully so that you don't read the ending and then buy it.It then becomes a member of your family and is 'my' book and 'our' book from the time you slip it into your bag.

The book fairs have numerous stalls: rare books,used books,college and school books all jostle side by side.
Buying books on a whim was unthinkable when I was young.The local library and a network of friends ensured we read all the books and that ,many ,many times over.If I want a book these days, I just browse my online library's web page and place an order.Books are delivered  home, tightly bound in cling film and the ones to be returned are picked up by the delivery man.So easy right?

Books not in the library are ordered by the numerous book stores and they arrive packed in good cardboard at our doorstep.These are fresh and smell nice.No one has claimed ownership before us and it moves with us around the rooms of our home finally peeking out of the book cupboard befriending other books ,some who have been with us for years.

The book stores are clean roomy spaces with gentle music playing in the back ground and neatly arranged according to genre.Small soft stools to sit on and browse through.

Today I visited a second hand bookstore that sells books by weight.Thousands and thousands of books, arranged in no particular order, filled the walls and lined the floor.It must have been an old house and all the rooms including a washbasin are filled with books.Thoughts race through my mind:
So many people can write.So many books that have no home in their owner's  cupboards.It is sad for an author to see his creation filling shelves and growing old alone in a place like this.

I found a copy of Roddy Doyle's ,Barrytown Triology (weighing 450 grams)and in it was a ticket ,maybe used as a book mark,of the British Rail dated December 8, 1993.For a book ,(I am assuming was purchased before the journey or at the station) ,more than twenty years old ,it is in good condition.After I read it, it will find a home in my book shelf.Though the boy who sold it to me announced cheerily that he would even buy it back  from me (by weight), if I ever wanted to sell it.

But we all agree that there are some wonderful books worth their weight in gold.May they reside in our bookshelves.

Happy Light Writes is born!

I'm here at last at Happy Light Writes.I couldn't have chosen a better day -Akshaya Tritiya. It is said that sage Ved Vyas and Lord Ganesha began writing the Mahabharata on this day!
I share the love of writing with such gigantic figures and pray that I am blessed to continue writing as long as I live. Akshaya means never diminishing in Sanskrit and that's how I want my writing output to be.

People rush out to by gold today ,and here I am mining my mind for something equally precious.Words ,and the written word at that mean so much to me. Its amazing how words,mere permutations and combinations of the basic 26 can bring forth  myriad emotions in the reader.We have all laughed ,cried and been moved by books. Isn't it heartening for us readers to be reassured that there are millions of books out there in the world waiting to be read and savored,even as we greedily devour books everyday?

I love birds and became an amateur bird watcher during the 12 years I lived in Jaipur.Every little feathered creature inspired in me a sense of wonder in its presence ,but when a pandemonium of plum headed parakeets swooped down the skies one cold winter morning,I was stunned into silence.Blue,red,green and grey colours splashed through the morning mist as they squawked and cavorted like crazy trapeze artists.
I now always associate them with happiness,a free wheeling freedom and energy.I feel I can move mountains after a vision so charged with beauty and joy like that.I have it stored inside my heart and on days when I need to pep myself up ,I just close my eyes and look up at their strong lean bodies ,coloured by a generous God and laugh at their antics.Memory is such a blessing to a writer.

Lights are the illumination to the world around and within us.The silent dawn uncovers a mountain peak covered with snow and a world rubbing  sleep from still unseeing eyes.From the light of the sun ,moon and stars ,through oil lamps,Edison's bulbs,fluorescent lights,LEDs and modern smart lights, is evident -the desire of humans to see better.
Wonderful words woven from the minds of a brilliant writer  can make us see the world better and see inside our own hearts and mind,as many familiar and unfamiliar feelings and thoughts echo within.

Just as light also shows up hidden  grime and destruction,words too uncover the not so cheery aspects of ourselves and the world around us.
Join me in Happy Light Writes ,as I discover the world around me through the joyful act of reading and writing.
Be seeing you soon.Have a great day.