This week, I have this really tall one for Becca’s Sunday Trees
the young uns
rustle and strain
eager to also
brush shoulders
with the sky
buffeted by winds
engulfed
in icy silence
bare branches
send a whisper
on a leaf
the sky
is just as far
from here
as from there
it is not about
how high you are
it is about how
deep you are.
This week for Becca’s Sunday Trees I bring one that has probably witnessed history that continues to hold significance today – from the precincts of the famous Chittor fort. I have previously shared several visuals from this place earlier as well but this particular tree overlooks the Sati sthal on one side and Jauhar kund on the other. I could not bear to take photos of the place where women burnt themselves along with the dead bodies of their husbands or jumped into it for fear of rape and slavery by plunderers and victors of wars.
Hark! She Speaks
I can tell you
tales of brave
helpless women
Sending off their men
to wage battles
of honor and pride
Fasting and praying
for his victory
and
his long life
They were but
One soul,
one body.
If he died, she would
burn with him
if he lost, it was Jauhar,
for her
and her children
As the spoils of war
it behooved her
to embrace death
to protect her
dignity and honor
and
save them
the dishonor
of failing to protecting her.
Times have changed
The world has progressed
They educate her
indulge her
pamper her and
cheer for her as she shatters
One glass ceiling after another
But under the sheen
lurks a beast
that seeks to
subjugate her with
attitudes and mentalities
that are passed off
as our culture and
sanskriti
All said and done
it is still her duty
to uphold their honor
And his right to defile hers
it is her duty to bear it silently
to shield their bestiality
so that they can continue to
hold up their heads in society
She is still blamed
and shamed
Be silent
Or be silenced
remains the
unsaid mantra
Since the beginning of time
they have
hacked my branches
stripped me bare
And with cruel knives
carved out love notes
on my body
over and over
again
but did I die?
Did I hide nakedness?
Did I hide my face?
Why do you?
Silent
unyielding
unflinching
unapologetic
existence
is my DNA
What is yours?
When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds; your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world. Dormant forces, faculties and talents become alive, and you discover yourself to be a greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be.
Patanjali (c. 1st to 3rd century BC)
Linked to Becca’s Sunday Trees
For a long time now, perhaps since 2005 that I have begun to click pics with my phone. Yes, you guessed right, of trees 😀 They had begun to work their magic on me and I just had to capture them, keep them with me so to speak. I often wished I had someway of documenting them, cataloguing them so that I could browse at leisure. Just a pipe dream, a waste of time. Time passed, I focused on home, career, academics until fan fiction happened. Blogging was the next logical step for my stories and yet some guiding prescient hand named my blog Stories and more.
And now after two years, the more bit often gives me greater happiness than the stories 😀 Anyhow to cut a long story short, this week I target two of my favorite photo challenges – Cee’s Happy themed fun foto challenge and the Daily Post’s Smile challenge. Let’s see if I can spark a bit of happiness and bring a smile to your face with my selection:
Good food can bring back the spark to the dullest of days and lives doesn’t it? Like my son declared some years ago “It’s almost impossible to be angry on a full stomach.” Since then I have noticed, it is harder to be upset after food – the next time someone at home is cranky you know what to do right? 😉
Then there’s nothing like some precious chillax time with friends while riding out the upheavals of academic pressures and life in general. This is one of those times when nothing matters but now 🙂
A beautiful sunset at the end of a less than idyllic day. A new day awaits and hope surges things can only be better.
You are just fooling around, clueless and untrained – something clicks and you have the near perfect shot, good enough to please even your own nitpicking self. The wonder of learning something new can give quite an unparalleled high, don’t you think?
When a little boy shows off his Tarzanic genes 😀
While his elders (and little girls!) prefer to take the more sedate route and dress up like their ancestors did.
Then there are other things that are guaranteed to bring a smile to my heart – chancing upon the white blossoms (or are they leaves?) of an unknown tree
A prefect green circle in the midst of a chaotic entangled bushy jungle
When life clings on and persists in the unlikeliest of places.
How the internet allows us to be there while sitting here – be it at the fag end of a day
or the beginning of a new day.
Of trees that perk up after long cold dreary overcast days and engage in a bit of arm wrestling under a perfect and gorgeously blue sky – from all the way from Dublin, Ireland.
Do you find joy and happiness in the little things of life? Did anything here make you smile? Do let me know!
But before I go, just in case these pics didn’t strike a chord, I must share this little piece to make up for taking up so much of your time:
“No sight so sad as that of a naughty child,” he began, “especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?”
“They go to hell,” was my ready and orthodox answer.
“And what is hell? Can you tell me that?”
“A pit full of fire.”
“And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?”
“No, sir.”
“What must you do to avoid it?”
I deliberated a moment: my answer, when it did come was objectionable: “I must keep in good health and not die.” ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
May you all keep in good health and not die – at least not a moment before one has to!
As I come out of my shell and explore my surroundings I can’t help but notice a unique seasonal feature around these parts. Spring and fall seem to coexist. Leaves carpet the roads and mounds of leaves dot the sides of the roads until they are carted off to their final resting place. And yet gardens are abloom with a riot of colors – pink purple yellow and magenta. The peepal tree outside my office is a case in point. It is almost bare with a few green leaves determinedly hanging on until they turn yellow and reluctantly make their way down to whence they grew to such dizzying heights. And yet whilst this tussle is on, a new unruly batch has already sprung up gung-ho and eager to make their mark in this world. I have been feeling too inhibited to click this particule tree but I did mix and match some photos in an earlier post – Peepal in Spring.
For this post I have captured a few contrasting images from the world around me. Come scroll with me…
Clutching at straws
Brilliant and defiant in death.
Life towers over and mocks at death – it is not for me!
Yet some die before their time
While others bloom despite all odds
Even when there appears to be no hope or escape
Only when we accept that ups and downs, life and death will happen can we move on and live life as she deserves to be led – wholly completely, entirely and unabashedly.
Wish you all a wonderful day.
I missed Becca’s Sunday Trees but here I am on Tuesday. Have a wonderful day people!
Skipping along the dirt road
she stopped to
stare and ponder
Poor old tree
No respite
No escape
Imprisoned
Forever and ever
The tree swayed with gentle laughter
A single curled leaf
Twirled its way down upon her head
Little one
Not all journeys are without
If you would
but look within
Okay so this week for the black and white challenge, Cee wants bikes or anything related to two wheels. Initially I thought I had only two photos but rifling through my archives I was surprised to find how many bikes had crept in without my knowledge! Good for me and them 😀
A surreptitiously taken photo of the fascinating insides of a bike in a busy marketplace.
The good old bicycle, the lifeline for many. I used to love cycling as a child and often wish I could cycle now as well, but I feel shy and embarrassed.
This one I have shared before, perhaps some of you remember. Quite an eye-catcher right?
A front view with minimal color. Which one do you prefer?
On the streets of Udaipur, while admiring a camel with its nose in the air.
The car and bike halt deferentially as the camel made its way sedately across the highway 😉
A bike parked near a distillation flask used to prepare rose essence.
Two bikes near a massive gulmohar tree (at least the leaves look like that). The creepy roots are fascinating aren’t they? Oops I forgot the bikes were supposed to be the focus!
Hmm not sure if those are the same bikes as in the previous pic. But the tree is definitely different – such character don’t you think? I’m fascinated by how trees don’t seem to have any requirement to follow rules. Anything goes and each to her own is their mantra. Yet each is particular and conscientious about fulfilling their CSR (corporate social responsibility) for the less fortunate. By just being, they replenish the oxygen in the air – isnt that amazing?
Tree Cheers to them.
Thanks for visiting and have a wonderful week.
Whew! I almost missed this fun foto challenge of Cee’s! And my favorite topic too – Leaves and Trees. And I have discovered a recent fascination for leaves as well so picking and choosing was quite a challenge. Hoping that you will enjoy my selection.
Let’s begin with an assortment of leaves, mostly teak leaves.
Just trying for some perspective here – they are huge arent they?
I was fascinated by this find and carried it inside for some special treatment
A collection of dried Ashoka tree leaves.
Banana leaves against a cloudy evening sky
Eucalyptus tree standing tall against the litchi trees. Don’t miss the fair elbows!
The greens attempts to tone down the exuberance of the reds
Next I have a really batty tree for you. Yes! those black things are bats waiting for darkness to fall.
Perhaps she dropped her leaves because she didn’t want any hanger-ons – what do you think? Did you notice her pose? Perhaps the stone sculptors of ancient India took inspiration from her kind. And before you scroll down – look! Mango blossoms – the prize for the heat and dust!
A golden tree by the road
A mystery tree with strange tendrils hanging down like some exotic jewelry. Anyone know which tree? Ferdi?
The last one standing at the Chittorgarh fort. Oh the stories it could tell
This one’s having a really bad hair day 😀 Or perhaps it has seen some really hair-raising stuff in its heydays. After all this is the place for committing jauhar and sati.
I clicked this patch of clover leaves hoping to find a lucky four-leafed one at leisure. No such luck yet – what about you?
All neat and tidy, ready to toe the line and follow rules and regulations with not a hair out of place.
And then we have this place where there’s no sense or order, each to her own to be as she likes no questions asked. Which do you prefer?
And finally the Sun kisses this one good night 🙂
Thanks for visiting and sharing your favorite one!
This week for Becca’s Sunday Trees photo feature, I bring you one with many layers to her.
An impressive tree, I think, a mango tree perhaps. If so she would have been stoned, prodded and climbed all over the entire long summer. But undaunted, unconcerned she has continued her journey to reach for the sky.
I come closer. She allows a money plant to drape her like a scarf, even allow a lamp to rest on her curves.
Hey wait! That’s no drapery – it’s growing out of her. Just another surrogate mother for one who is not even her kind. My kind? she asks. What’s that? All life is my kind.
Just look at those wounds and scars. Don’t they hurt? I ask. No she shakes her branches.
Liar. I choke on tears as I walk over to the other side. Her silent howl of despair unheard in this vast preoccupied universe.
What does silence look like asks Cheri at the Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge this week. And interesting and tricky question for depending upon the situation and mood, silence can be oppressive, suffocating and a scream of despair. Yet it can also be full of warmth, unspoken yet clearly felt emotions, a comforting blanket, a time to ponder, reflect and just be.
“We went down into the silent garden. Dawn is the time when nothing breathes, the hour of silence. Everything is transfixed, only the light moves.” ― Leonora Carrington
“I have never heard a more eloquent silence.” ― Laurie Halse Anderson, Speak
The silent wail of the ghosts of slaughtered trees and their mourning relatives waiting for the axe to fall…
“Does not everything depend on our interpretation of the silence around us?” ― Lawrence Durrell, Justine
This section of the fort was once the Ladies Apartments (zenani deorhi) where all the kings concubines lived with secret passageways from the King room. A stage set for palace intrigues, high voltage drama, tinkle of bangles, rustle of silks swirling with perfume, silence forever. What do you hear – the a happy contented peacefulness or rife with strife, gloom and melancholy?
“As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment.” ― John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men
What can one say over and above that?
“I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams…” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
Thus it has been for me with still waters, mountains and trees…
“It’s so stupid because all I wanted was space and now that I have it, there’s this part of me that’s achingly lonely I could die.” ― Hannah Harrington, Saving June
Far from the madding crowd, looking down in greedy disdain…
“When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.” ― Ansel Adams
“He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.” ― Elbert Hubbard
I grew up looking at these mountains and this river the holy Ganga. The mountains were always like this – strong towering, silent only the colors changed with the season and time of day. But the Ganga was never like this. She was bright, clear clean green, sparkling and gurgling as She tripped over stones and boulders, gushing and frothing as she danced on her way down from the mountains, singing us to sleep. Each and every day. Without fail.
And then one day, she fell silent. Enchained and enslaved, forever silenced to serve the needs of others, bloated with detritus, armed with fortitude and restraint, she renounced her carefree days of song and dance.
Yet, can you not hear her scream through the deafening silence?
Well, what does silence mean to you? Speak up, be not silenced, ever…
Stories and more 