After a long drawn battle with the biggest catastrophe in our living memory, global humanity is finally getting to see some quintessential ray of light at the end of the treacherous tunnel in the form of COVID-19 vaccines, currently being rolled out to all parts of the globe. A ‘COVID-19 free world’ is still some distance away as we continue our march there, slowly but surely.
My first memory of LIGHT
I do not recall,
But my ‘daak naam’ seemed to have
a luminous circle around it.
I guess it pays to choose to come
into the world on days like Diwali.
When I realized that I am actually called LIGHT
I kind of laughed out loud … yeah right!
Light on my feet I am certainly not.
And light as a … feather(?) …no, don’t even go there.
It was recently reported that the Indian Medical Association called on the health minister, himself a doctor (Dr. Harsh Vardhan), to provide evidence that Ayurveda and yoga are effective in treating the coronavirus.1 This has been the source of ongoing, and sometimes contentious, discourse. The story of Asha (not her real name) illustrates this point.
‘Bengali’ is not a pejorative term, but endows the recipient with a sense of self-worth and respect rooted in glory.
I recently watched a movie on Netflix about the life of Gautama Buddha and it had a profound effect on me. I was eager to learn about the life of this prince born into privilege who gave up everything and everyone to search for the ultimate truth.
Is looking after a dog one dog too many? How about 40? There are some rules and habits you can stick to, though, to make it all work.
I want you to know that you are the best thing to ever happen to me. I have loved many of your kind my whole life, but you are something special. For you, I feel my heart grow bigger and beat louder. I love you with a love that I have never experienced before and I believe it is because you are different from anything that has ever entered my life. Even when I am not perfect you still look at me like I am. You are, without a doubt, the beat of my heart.
Even at four months of age, anyone could see that she was no ordinary dog, IF they looked beyond everything that WAS ordinary about her and looked into her eyes. She had already seen too much for a puppy that young. It was like her heart was already broken, but until her body broke, too, she would still need to feed it. But her eyes were there for everyone to look into – a peculiar mix of sadness tinged with a tiny sliver of the gigantic love she was so capable of giving and yearning to receive. She just didn’t understand why it had to be this way. This is the rags to riches story of the one we shall, for now, call ‘the dumped dog’.