I is for Ishq #AtoZChallenge

Incense flower. 

It's used in Bhuddhist temples. It's fragrance is ethereal, temple like.

Clicked at 14000 ft, Roopkund trek, July 2016

The only word that kept showing up all of yesterday while I was keeping myself open for inspiration for I was Ishq.

Ishq means love.

If you google it (I did to find out the etymology of the word), you'll be told that in Arabic it carries derogatory connotations because Ishq means a passionate, sensual love which makes a person loose his senses....etc.etc. I was taken aback when I read this. Why, I thought, what other kind of love is there?

Sharing this poem that has birthed today, thanks to a definition that made me bristle a bit.

*****

Ishq is Love

And Love is boundless

 It can not be contained in a definition.

We may try to

confess it

profess it

write about it 

in poetry

or

in verse

but it

escapes

all

those ties.

Try holding tight a fist full of sand 

who gets hurt?

your fingers?

or 

the sand?

When the I shushes and becomes Quiet

Ishq happens.

Ask the grains of coffee

who long for the scalding water

to embrace them

Watch

how they dissolve

disappear

Who can say when you drink

where the particles went?

The water, now fragrant and virile

oozes aroma

that which was the essence of the grains
is now one with water

who won?

who lost?

Is this Ishq

or 

madness?

I dissolves in the sea of infinite

Ishq smiles and kisses his beloved.

******

Sufi poetry is a staple for me and one of my favourite poets is 

Baba Bulle Shah (18th century Sufi poet)

whose poetry has been sung by many, 

but the rendition that gives me goosebumps (every time I hear it )

is this one: sung my the legendary Abida Parveen.

I chose this old video because it has English subtitles.

If you're short on time, listen to the first three minutes to get a flavour.

If you're blessed with enough time on hands, enjoy...

If you're new to Sufi poetry, here's a post from the 2016 challenge which may be helpful:

S is for Sufi Poetry 

Be the Joy you seek in others:)

Join me here with J (Insh'Allah) tomorrow.

I is for I'm in Budapest

I'm in Budapest.

And so is Spring.

It's my first time.

He visits every year-

in April.

He poses.

I click.

I'll be leaving soon.

He'll wait for Summer.

Dear readers. Today is a day of sharing photos. It's day 5 in Budapest. Spring may have sprung here but the winds have howled mercilessly for the last two days. Snuggled in almost all the layers I packed to come here, my daughter, her friend and I walked through the streets of Pest and the green spaces of Buda yesterday. Stopping only for hot chocolate and mulled wine and the loo breaks, and of course, the clicks, we had the most wonderful day out.

Here are some of the shots; I hope you like what we saw: big and small. A few of the shots are from day 1 of my visit, when the sun was shining and the sky was blue.

The Sun was almost about to set.

Then it did.

And night fell upon us like a blanket

If you have time, click on this link and enjoy William Wordsworth's 

Lines Written in Early Spring

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/181415

G is for Gibran

It's my second day in Budapest. After yesterday's harshness, hope today's post will soothe you.

How I came about Khalil (or Kahlil) Gibran's poetry, I cannot recall. That his words bring me solace when I need it, is true.

'The Prophet' is the kind of book you can dip into, open a page, read it and realize that it's what you needed to read that day, that moment -- to make sense of what's going on around you or just to reconfirm what the little voice inside you was saying all along but you were too busy with the business of living to stop and listen to it.

Today, I'm sharing some of my favourite lines from this book. These words have been my guardian angels, I hope they'll bring you the answers you seek today. All the quotes that follow come from this book.

About marriage, he says...

"Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

....

And stand together yet not too near together.

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow."

"Speak to us of Children. 
And he said:

...And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you."

The librarian of this Universe knows what I need to read and when because books like The Prophet appear on my horizon, as if by magic, just when I'm seeking the answers. Thank you Librarian.

While flipping through the pages of this book to find quotes for this post, I come across words that seem new, or maybe I'm reading them after a very long time. I've been 'preaching' my family and friends (a lot lately) about healthy eating, exercise, yoga and all those things that I find helpful. The message is clear. I need to calm down:)

"Speak to us of Good and Evil.

You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.

You are not evil when you go thither limping.

Even those who limp go not backwards.

.....

Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the turtles.

In your longing for your giant self lies your

goodness: and that longing is in all of you.

....

But let not him who longs much say to him who

longs little, 'Wherefore are you slow and halting?"

For the truly good ask not the naked, 'Where is your garment?' nor the houseless, 'What has befallen your house?'

These lines are such a timely reminder. I've been riding on my high horse of yoga and fresh fruit for a tediously long while now.

I stop myself short of gossiping about other people but scratch my surface and you will find a long snaking train of opinions running on tracks of judgment I laid down years ago. The train may have got upgraded and doesn't rattle that loudly these days, so you don't hear the gossiping that goes on inside.

Ivy League, really? Why only Ivy League? That's a bit tight on her, right? Are designer bags all they can talk about? She can do without that second helping of chips. How can they spend so much on a wedding and so little for charity? Oh! You don't want to be standing on this platform--I can tell you that.

Being mindful of my actions and reactions is my new goal but I'm a work in progress. Books like The Prophet and wise men and women like Gibran are my crutches and coaches while I hobble along.

Doha Film Institute is responsible for a stunning animated film based on this book and Salma Hayek is responsible for bringing the film to fruition. If you love art and animation, you will LOVE this film. It got mixed reviews from the critics. Who cares. I was mesmerized.

Here's the official trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwQbMxDcRGE

enjoy...

C is for "Culture is Coriander Chutney."

What is culture, if not the passing of recipes from one generation to the next? 

Culture, according to my trusted Oxford Dictionary, is: "the customs, ideas, and social behaviour of a particular people or group." 

Hmmm... let's see...

The hurried pace of life these days leaves little space for following customs and traditions. Indian weddings, for example, are all about precisely planned and staged performances, instead of the organic singing sessions that sprung up every evening for at least a week before the big day, when I was growing up. Armed with dholak and chammach (drum and spoon), aunties and uncles and elders and youngsters would gather and sing and dance and drink masala chai. The youth would crack unsuitable jokes and then get told off by grannies. The grannies would nudge each other when the room was empty of the young, except the very young, recall the naughty jokes and laugh, shaking in mirth, sometimes covering their denture laden mouths with chiffon duppattas. The very young will remember this and write about them in their blogs.

Ideas change all the time and they should.

This post will become a rant if I get started on social behaviour. So I won't. Suffice to say, I'm not a fan of the screen addiction afflicting the young and the old today. Communicating via 'like' buttons, shared photos and emojis makes today's social behaviour scarily similar to George Orwell's 'Nineteen Eighty Four'. I shudder.

The only constant, I believe, is food. No, the dictionary doesn't mention food. Recipes, passed down from great-grandmothers to grandmothers and so on, keep culture alive in the bellies, on the taste buds and therefore, in the hearts of children and future generations.

Okay, I agree that culture belongs to the people and by its very nature should be evolving and changing. Stagnation equals lost empires, not progress. But, some aspects of our heritage, wherever we come from, are worth holding on to. Food is the easiest and tastiest aspect of culture we can preserve for our children, not just cooking it but growing it and procuring it ethically, sensibly, like our ancestors did.

I don't know about you, but a lot of my favourite childhood memories link back to my mother's or my grandmother's kitchen. Food is the main ingredient of my nostalgia. What about you?

Today, I'm sharing my mother's coriander chutney recipe that I make often. My son loves it. He's never met her but he loves her food. 

Ingredients: 

A healthy looking bunch of fresh coriander (washed and roughly chopped)

An inch or two of fresh ginger

One/two or three whole green chillies

One medium red onion (cut in quarters)

2 heaped tablespoons of anardana- dried pomegranate seeds. The ones you find in Indian stores have seeds in them so I prefer the Iranian ones which are seedless.

Six or Eight walnut halves.

2 tablespoons of water.

Salt to taste

One lemon (optional)

Instructions: 

I chuck all the ingredients listed above into my Vitamix, except salt and lemon, blend and voila! the chutney is ready. You could do the same in a food processor or a mixer-grinder.

Ready to blitz... I use short, sharp bursts on variable speed because I like chunky chutney, so I don't grind it too fine. Choose the texture you like.

Undo the lid and just smell the hot, sharp and fresh aroma of this simple chutney. Scrape it out into a container/pot/jar.

Add salt to taste.

An observation: If you use Indian anardana, you may need lemon juice to make the chutney tangy. I usually don't need any lemon juice when I use the Iranian variety. 

Play around with the proportions to find what you like; a little less chilly, a little more ginger or for a tangier version, add more anardana.

At home, we eat this chutney with rice and daal or spread on toast or mixed with bhel puri or as a dip with sweet potato wedges or oven baked beets or like I'm doing right now--with garam garam pakore (hot fritters).

Serve it as you like.

Enjoy and let me know if you do try this recipe.

*********************

One of my favourite poems to read to my children (when they were little) and to read aloud in class when I was a primary school teacher and to read to myself when the mood strikes is Michael Rosen's: 

You'll enjoy the rest of this delicious poem too...I'm sure