Going green isn't easy..

.. And here we don't intend to repeat a clichéd truism about having to change one's lifestyle to go green etc. We mean in a more literal sense. Unless we start at the beginning, you might pity us, assuming our incomprehensibility for being rooted in derangement.

A few months ago, a small-ish patch of dirt lured, then enchanted us; and in short order it proceeded swiftly to acquire and enslave us. It demanded a dwelling - since built, some fauna as inhabitants (us, in this case) and finally ... flora. The complexity that lay hidden in that one word has been revealing itself to us at a sadistically deliberate pace.

At first, our newly appointed lord and master - the aforementioned patch of dirt, wanted simply a verdant cover - an innocuous enough request, which soon entailed watering schedules, regular clipping and general fretting over. Then the demand was expanded to include an assortment of shrubs, plants - some flowering and others not.
Finally we were informed of the need for some trees as well!
So, last Saturday, we found ourselves faced with a couple of different kinds of Maple trees - toddler versions really - sitting diffidently in their cribs - 25 gallon plastic buckets, having been dropped off by the friendly folks of our nursery. Like any self-absorbed youngsters, they impatiently awaited a transplant into their permanent home on our piece of Terra-Firma.
Naturally, we noted no feeling of gratitude on their part, for being offered a home, and in fact their whole demeanor seemed to suggest that they were the ones being generous and gracious in deigning to let us serve them.
My better half is still holding on to the rather fanciful notion that it is in fact she who owns the patch (the reverse is true) and decides what goes upon it. I had resigned to my fate long ago. She walked along the perimeter and suggested a spot for tree-tot 1 who goes by the long-winded name of 'Autumn Blaze Maple' but in reality looks like a bunch of sticks in dirt. Just to look useful, I suggested a different spot a couple feet away. In a moment of generosity she acceded.

It seems simple enough right? You dig a hole, plonk the tree down in it, cover up with dirt and sit down with a cool beer in its shade. Well, not much shade right now for that last bit, but ... you get the picture. As Entrepreneurial types like to babble on about the long journey from Ideation to collaboration to execution and then onto something else that eludes me, let's just say things didn't work out quite so simply.

With much fanfare, we cut off the sod and started shoveling the dirt out of the hole we just knew was there (in the famous words of Dennis the menace :-). 3 inches in, we hit the first rock which was squatting obstinately. We asked it politely to come out, but it told us in stone - "No thank you!". With much coaxing by two shovels and a sledge-hammer it finally emerged. But underneath it, there seemed to be a rock concert going on in the hole attended by rocks of all shapes and sizes. A friendly neighbor and his son joined us in ridding the hole of these squatters and we all heaved and sweated all afternoon, nourished periodically by a few chilled beers and some crackers.
At one point, me and my contemporary - the 8 yr old kid of our neighbor - were discussing the possibility of using TNT to coax those recalcitrant rocks out. Luckily it didn't come to that, but the idea was fun :-)

By the end of the day the two tree-tots were in the ground and settling in. In the gentle breeze they seemed to be cozy in their new digs, but to us, they kept up a steady stream of new demands -
"Go on then, get us some fertilizer now"
"Are we in the neighborhood of the Sahara?! Well where's the water then?"

All their needs met, they just wanted to be left to themselves, and we obliged with alacrity. Word is, the patch has appointed those two as custodians or wardens to keep an eye over us.

A crisis that never was :-)

We all remember instances from our childhood when we managed to raise the terror level of the household to a flaming red, simply by making ourselves scarce at the wrong place and the wrong time - causing our panic stricken parents and sometimes even innocent-bystanders-turned-good-Samaritans to rush into a wild goose chase, to restore us to the proper state of mildly irritating visibility. Whether those disappearances were intentional or inadvertent is another matter altogether. I mused about the past when I saw a breathless story on CNN this afternoon about a 6 year old, but first, a joke to set the right mood:

--
The boss of a big company needed to call one of his employees about an urgent problem with one of the main computers. He dialed the employee's home phone number and was greeted with a child's whispered, "Hello?"
Feeling put out at the inconvenience of having to talk to a youngster the boss asked, "Is your Daddy home?" "Yes", whispered the small voice. "May I talk with him?" the man asked. To the surprise of the boss, the small voice whispered, "No." Wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, "Is your Mommy there?" "Yes", came the answer. "May I talk with her?" Again the small voice whispered, "No."
Knowing that it was not likely that a young child would be left home alone the boss decided he would just leave a message with the person who should be there watching over the child. "Is there any one there besides you?" the boss asked the child.
"Yes" whispered the child, "a policeman." Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's home, the boss asked, "May I speak with the policeman?" "No, he's busy," whispered the child. "Busy doing what?" asked the boss. "Talking to Daddy and Mommy and the Fireman", came the whispered answer.
Growing concerned and even worried as he heard what sounded like a helicopter through the ear piece on the phone the boss asked, "What is that noise?" "A hello-copper" answered the whispering voice. "What is going on there?" asked the boss, now alarmed.
In an awed whispering voice the child answered, "The search team just landed the hello-copper." Alarmed, concerned, and more than just a little frustrated the boss asked, "What are they searching for?"
Still whispering, the young voice replied along with a muffled giggle: "Me!"
--

This afternoon, it was reported on CNN's breaking news that a 6 year old kid climbed a sort of an experimental gas filled aircraft and untying a rope, floated away thousands of feet up in the air. A massive rescue effort ensued and eventually the kid was discovered ..... in the attic of his home.

The most hilarious comedy happens in real life :-)

Thank you Mr.Columbus

Today, that is October 12th is celebrated as Columbus Day to mark the anniversary of the arrival of Christopher Columbus in the Americas. Although the poor man had actually set out to discover a sea route to the 'Indies' and it was by virtue of navigational miscalculations aided by providence that he landed in America and actually thought he had arrived in India.

Aside from being thankful to him for not actually "discovering" India in the way he discovered Americas - which led to swift ethnic cleansing of natives and colonization of the latter, today we are also thankful to him for another matter that may seem unrelated to his exploits. You see, in this world 'ravaged by Global Warming' - this year snow decided to arrive rather early even by Minnesota standards. So even though most trees had never gotten the memo that it was autumn and time to let go of their modesty by way of shedding their foliage, the snow arrived as an untimely reminder of the same, loading up the still-green leaves with the white stuff.

Now, first real snowfall of the season, and that too on a Monday morning would have wreaked havoc on the commute by snarling up traffic for miles. Fortunately, part of the work-force, seems to be happily celebrating Columbus day by not venturing out on the roads to make things any worse than the white stuff already has.

For this reason alone, we feel compelled to thank Mr. Christopher Columbus today. And as a show of sympathy, we wonder yet again, how a competing explorer - Amerigo - got his name plastered on these continents when our blundering hero was the first one to arrive here and 'discover' it. Though, on second thought, United States of Columbia would somehow not be the same.

Embarrassing win....

We are all familiar with the concept of embarrassing defeats wherein one's opponent crushed one into the dirt, making one's efforts look pointless to the point of being absurd. But starting today, we will have to add a new phrase to our lexicon - 'Embarrassing Win'.

If you have still not had your fix of caffeine this morning, I recommend that you save some coffee and read this news instead. It is guaranteed to make you sit bolt upright, rub your eyes in amazement, then read the whole thing slowly again to make sure that you read it correct. Whether you agree with it or not, you will at least get enough excitement out of it to perk up to a fully awake state and without a milligram of caffeine.

Now why you may wonder do we cite this story in relation to our newly minted concept of 'embarrassing win'. Well! think about it from the perspective of the current winner/recipient of this supposed honor-
What is his crowning achievement to-date for deserving this award?
- Winning the US presidency? 43 men, albeit of paler skins have won before him.
- Middle-East peace? Nothing achieved yet.
- Is he an extreme peacenik, a total dove? Not really. He is or at least was a strong supporter of the Afghan war. So clearly not a no-War period kind of person.
- Genuinely brought a significant change to usher in world-peace somehow? Not really, and to be fair to him, 9 months (or is it 2 weeks as nominations were due on Feb 1st) is not really enough time to even understand the problem, let alone put forth a solution.

So what did he do to deserve it?
* Was it Removal of missile defense sites from Poland and Czech republic to appease Russia.
* Or was it Getting tough on Israel to appear more even-handed to Palestinians?
* He did get a resolution passed in the UNSC to a nuke-free world. An exercise in empty symbolism which doesn't hurt anyone while achieving nothing either. Kind of like the millions of resolutions passed to end world poverty.

Being an Intelligent and sensible person, though rather full of himself, one wonders what his reaction was when the news was broken to him. And I mean the real reaction, not the made-for-press 'humbled'. Surely, he cringed a little and thought- "let me at least accomplish a real goal towards world peace!"

By conferring the award on a partisan and hypocritical scaremonger - Mr. Al Gore, and the IPCC, the Nobel peace prize had been tarnished significantly, but with this they have really trivialized it into irrelevance.

But, I am sure, for the uncritical, die-hard supporters of the Obama phenomenon (can't simply call him a man anymore) this is one more reason to cheer. I am sure some of them are wondering what are the next laurels the great one achieves-
a few more Nobel prizes for literature (he wrote 2 books about HIMSELF),
he already has a grammy for reading - you guessed it - HIS BOOK about HIMSELF,
another Nobel for Economics for liberally multiplying govt spending by printing money,
other nobel prizes maybe for Sciences, an Olympic Gold or two and maybe even..
a fast-track saint-hood from the vatican?

The possibilities are endless!!

Pursuit of Happiness

It may sound trivial or facetious, but it's not - I have decided to be happy for the rest of my life - no matter what.

The epiphany - that its better to be happy, didn't occur to me under a tree, a la Buddha or Isaac Newton, nor in a Bath Tub, as it did to Archimedes. It occurred to me as I lay in bed couple nights ago, waiting for sleep to take over and reset my train (yeah! train not trains, Single Track of Mind) of thoughts - why not be Happy?!! It sure sounds like a better state of mind than others.

It's not that my life is perfect - far from it - but then it wouldn't be real life if it adhered strictly to an impeccable scheme of perfection. And sure enough - I do have a few reasons to be happy alongside others not to be happy. In balance I think its equally likely to find happiness in life as not. Taking my cue from the American Constitution - "... pursuit of life, liberty and happiness.." (paraphrasing) I choose happiness.

Psychology experts, Philosophers and founders of religions have had various explanations and recipes for achieving happiness - from utterly simple to insanely complicated. But I figured that being happy ought to be as simple as believing that you are happy. And here is my layman's 10-point recipe for happiness:

1. Imagine - that you ARE happy. (if this sounds silly smile at your silliness)

2. Smile - It Leads and your mood follows. Its also infectious (no vaccine needed).

3. Laugh - aloud and shake off all your hurt, anger, self-pity and self-doubt.

4. Love - yourself, others around you, in fact the whole world.

5. Live - every passing moment to the fullest and be aware of it.

6. Give - for its own sake, expecting nothing back.

7. Open - your heart, mind and soul and let life and light in.

8. Accept - some things as given, especially hurtful, negative things.

9. Believe - in happiness and your ability to be happy.

10. Feel - Every little joy to the depths of your being.

Make someone else happy - it grows by sharing.

If this sounds rather kitschy - then yeah it is. But hey! if it makes you smile or laugh at its silliness, you are already on step 2. Go for it!! ;-)

Quiet reflection

After long last, the quiet pond is reflecting back, the image of the ever changing world around it. It's a sure sign of the receding strangle-hold of the slumbering passive giant - winter, that had frozen an image of the pond's own misery on its face.

The giant had descended about 5 months ago as a chilly breeze that left a sheen of frost on blades of grass. From there it grew every day, freezing lakes, ponds and even the lazier rivers. Wiser denizens of the land had either fled, gone underground or surrendered. Birds and retirees flew South. Some animals hibernated in subterranean refuges. Trees stripped off all foliage in surrender and feigned death.

To all the rest, the cruel justice of the giant was meted out. Mere existence was considered rebellion and punished. Numb toes, frost-bitten fingers, and faces that feel like rubber masks are just some of the hurts inflicted by the evil twins accompanying the giant - wind-chill and snow.

But, as stealthily as it had arrived, it recedes. No climactic territorial battle was ever fought. Spring with summer in its tow started taking baby steps to assume control - slowly thawing life out. The trees playing dead up until now began to sprout small buds on their tips at the admonishment of spring to regain decency and dignity that was lost in the onslaught.

Birds are also returning with stories of faraway lands full of warmth and sunshine. Unable to contain their excitement, they chatter their tales incessantly awakening burrowed hibernators.

For now, all kinds of life will blossom and bloom. We will just pretend that this time the giant is gone for good.

Stages of a Mistake

We all make them - errors of judgement, mistakes - inconsequential, small, big or catastrophic. An old adage credits the wiser among us with the genius of learning from others'. Most of the rest of us, stub our own toes in the dark to discover immovable objects. A select few inverse geniuses commit them and fail or refuse to see any lessons hidden therein.
If such mistakes are committed in our dealings with others, they basically amount to trying the noble approach of 'turn the other cheek' in a boxing ring. Even a newbie pugilist can recognize an opportunity presented thus on a platter.

Recently, I added a rather big one, to my running total of significant mistakes, the total numbers of which compete robustly with the national debt clock. Without embarassing myself further by divulging specific details, I would like to share some observations of the various stages I underwent.

Blissful Ignorance: The mistake, henceforth referred to as the act had been committed, yet I remained unaware of it and its implications.

Outward Denial + Inward foreboding: "I couldn't possibly have done THAT!!!" (... or could I?)

Hollow Bravado: "So what if I DID do it!! It's immaterial and bears a minuscule fraction of extremely tiny consequence. It's ludicrous to the point of hilarity. Ha Ha!! I shall recover from it effortlessly and laugh about it someday."

Realization: "I actually went ahead and did it!!" As the realization dawns, it brings with it a sinking feeling that those to whom I laid my flanks bare would have to have been even more benign incarnates of Mother Teresa to not have taken advantage of the situation presented to them.

Self-flagellation: "How could I be such a flea-brained, bumbling nincompoop's apprentice to have managed to land myself in such a finely detailed mess. I mean really! I didn't leave even the minutest details of stupidity to chance on this one, and managed all this, single-handedly. Bravo!!"
Followed by a slew of unprintable mutterings let loose in a rich barrage.

Self-pity+ Auto-Sainthood: "Now how was I to know that the world was so cynical and people so cold and calculating. Who would have thought that people did such things to each other? It's truly beneath me to even consider the prospect of people stooping to such low levels, let alone stoop to their level and fight."

A few depressing iterations between the previous two states.

Struggle: Just to salvage my tattered reputation in my own eyes, I know that I need to give it my best to try and fight my way out of a seemingly doomed situation. Lord Krishna need not lecture me from the Gita. I am well and truly aware of this timeless quote that is very apt to the situation: "To act (perform our karma) is within our rights. Reward from the action is not our concern."
I fumed and fulminated using all available media of communication, over the course of a day trying to recover lost ground. And then, as if by coincidence, I came across this random quote on a website: "Strong and bitter words indicate a weak cause."
It helped me transition to the next and final stage :-)

Resignation: "Ah! Fuggedaboudit!!" For future ruminations we shall file it away under the Hard-Luck section, and hope that when the next time such a situation arises, the appropriate lesson surfaces before the moment spurs us into yet another shoot-thy-own-foot.

Lavender scented dreams

Lights grow dimmer and day fades out
umbral night envelopes me pervading the senses.
She fills darkness in pupils wide open,
I hear rolling music of her serene silence
and lay still as her breezes brush over me,
nudging the conscious to lower its guard.

Slowly surrendering to her advances,
I catch a wisp of lavender fragrance,
just a hint- maybe even imagined,
it intoxicates the senses as sweet wine.

The mind lights up with a film of images,
and plays melodies of forgotten songs.
Now real enough that I almost touch her,
and feel her sensual smile,
she leads me to dreams,
and a promise of chimerical days.

Paradise visits our town

After an impatient wait spanning almost a month, we finally went out in our quest for the show that in the views of most observers has been described as the most colorful and mesmerising. And it's in town only for a few short weeks.

The day was perfect to venture out - warm temps and a gentle breeze. But uncertainty remained about the precise location. This show could be going on anywhere around town - moving into places tentatively but moving out quite resolutely for the season.
This apparent shortcoming though is largely offset by the fact that there is not limit on the number of audience attending it - no tickets required either. Its absolutely free - you only pay with your time and interest in it.

So, off we went in the direction where chances of catching it were most promising and lucked out.
Our favorite show was on - in all its majestic splendor. The artistes - matured and seasoned over years of spontaneous performances - never rehearsed into mundane and predictable sequences. The entire ensemble glittered and shone with the brilliance of individual acts.

We enjoyed every moment of the ongoing tireless spectacle and then noticed the souvenirs - a veritable bounty of them practically littered the venue. In yet another gesture of their never ending generosity, the artists provided the souvenirs for free. We grabbed handfuls of them and also tried to capture some of the most vivid imagery in pictures, but with the humble realization that no image can ever do justice to the live show we witnessed.

Our eyes frequently met those of fellow admirers. Knowing glances and smiles were exchanged. Without a word spoken, one gets the feeling of a strong bond shared by our mutual love of the show in all its forms.

The show leaves town soon, but the artists - all locals will stay behind, even though there is a foreboding of gloomy and cold times to come. They know their creativity and imagery will suffer a chilling effect, but being diehard optimists, they stay on, for a revival to spring forth - which it will, in due time. But probably the biggest reason they dont leave, stems from the deep roots they have in this community, from which they draw their creative juices.

We hope that our Maples, Birches, Oaks et al put on such beautiful shows every Autumn.

p.s. Please pardon the puns when you go back and read the last paragraph :-)

Sunday Night Syndrome - heard of it?

There is a serious affliction on the loose - the Sunday Night syndrome. It causes seriously sleep deprived Monday mornings, leading to a general feeling of malaise and moroseness on an already dull and moribund day of the week - the dreaded Monday.

We are all aware of the happier days of the week - namely Friday and Saturday. These are days when most of us work averse beings - also known as "workers" (wonder why!) are not enduring daytime incarceration in exchange for a few pennies. On one of these days, we are dreaming of real life and on the other, we are actually living it.

But eventually Sunday arrives, and brings with it the doom and gloom of a Monday in it's tow. Up until Saturday night, we had been pretending that Monday is like one of those closet monsters that scares children, but in fact doesnt exist. On Sunday, however, we are forced to reckon with its impossible to ignore imminence and by evening of the day we are resigned to our fates and climb into our beds early to get some rest, to put up our bravest (not necessarily best) faces before the coming onslaught.

But then the cosmic chaos of a Sunday night takes over and all kinds of odd things begin to happen making sleep nothing short of a distant dream (no pun intended). The kids wake up one after the other - sometimes needing comfort from nightmares, other times, just announcing the happy absence of any nightmares .. at 1:12 AM. You receive international phone calls at 2:37 AM from complete strangers who insist on talking to you in foreign tongues, and refuse to realize after 3 calls that they might have the wrong number. After a couple of such assaults on your beauty sleep, the drip-drip of leaky faucets, whirring of the fan and ticking of the clock are enough to prevent a smooth reversion into dreamland. You lay awake counting sheep, counting backwards from 1 million, the hair remaining on your head - anything, but the Z's elude you. By 4 AM you are anxious that if you don't get any sleep, how in heaven or hell will you even drive to work, let alone display any productivity worth a few cents. The anxiety by the way adds to the overall fun. Sometime before dawn, as you teeter on the edge of sanity, slumber lets you back to paradise. But other sinister cosmic forces - time for one, have that covered as well - the alarm goes off, yanking you back to the Monday morning.
With bloodshot eyes, aching limbs, muddled mind and no sense of balance or direction, you amble off to the bathroom and begin fervently to pray for the day to be over.

This, my friends is what is being referred these days as the Sunday Night syndrome. But beware, it also occurs on last nights of vacations and long weekends. No known cures till date.