Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
(S. Sudha, Mysore)
This rather old fashioned expression means don't be too sure that your plan is going to work because anything can go wrong at anytime.
* Don't be too sure that you will have the project done by tomorrow. Remember, there's many a slip between t . What she forgot was there is many a slip between the cup and the lip.
This is an expression which has been around for several centuries. The story goes that Neptune's son, Ancaus had a beautiful vineyard which he was extremely proud of. He made the many slaves who took care of it work really hard. Once an overworked slave predicted that his master would not taste the wine produced that year.
When the grapes had been plucked and the wine extracted, Ancaus sent for the slave who had made the prediction. He poured out a cup of wine for himself and asked the slave why his prediction wasn't coming true. The slave apparently said, "There's many a slip between the cup and the lip". As Ancaus lifted the cup to taste the new wine, another slave came running and said that a wild boar had entered the vineyard and was destroying everything. Neptune's son put the cup of wine down and raced to the vineyard. You can probably guess the rest of the story. Ancaus was killed by the boar. Moral of the story? Drink your wine, before fighting a boar — or should it be "bore"?
As posted in 'The Hindu' of Tuesday, Apr 08, 2003
Learn the art of patience. Applying discipline in your thoughts when they become anxious over the outcome of a goal. Impatience breeds anxiety, fear, discouragement and failure.
Patience creates confidence, decisiveness and a rational outlook which eventually leads to success. - Bryan Adams
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Baba had a very ironical impression of the British Raj in India. As a staunch patriot, Baba took active part in the freedom struggle.
“ I gave shelter to some of the most wanted freedom fighters of that time. They used to stay incognito in our house. your grandmother used to cook food for them as she did for the rest of the family. Usually these people were introduced as distant relatives to the neighbours and other friends of the family. the most interesting part was my mother’s brother, who was the police chief and was a very dreaded officer of his time. He was a regular visitor to our house, but somehow never suspected anything fishy.”
“The punishment for abetting the fight for freedom was most horrible. The ladies of the house were put to shame in public and the prime accused was invariably hanged!”
‘Were you not scared?’ I asked Baba.
“Not for myself. But I did worry about your grandfather and the children. In fact it was this apprehension which prompted me to put all our jewellery and valuables in a box and bury it in my best friend’s ( Badri Babu) house, who also happened to be a successful businessman and my blind supporter.”
“You will be surprised to know that we were the first to declare ourselves free from British Rule in India. A self-styled Indian flag was hoisted atop one of the most prominent buildings in Balia Town, in strict defiance of the British.”
“The government took stern action and burnt down my friend, Badri babu’s house. Luckily my box of valuables remained unscathed and was retrieved later. It was my turn next.”
“They came on horse back, a group of khaki clad police constables headed by a British Officer. Your father was playing with his younger brothers outside the family mansion, shouting slogans against the British. that is when someone shouted, ‘run for your lives! They are coming to arrest you!’ Your grandmother and one of my cousin sisters who used to live with us rushed outside picked up the children and run into the lush paddy fields in the backyard. In front of our eyes we saw our beautiful ancestral house being burnt to ashes! After the British left we shifted to a relative’s place, near Delhi and I went ‘underground’ with my friend Badri Babu. I came to know through my sources that our property was confiscated and a warrant was issued in my name. I and my friend were strictly advised to remain in hiding for some time.”
“We made good use of the situation and set out to follow the footprints of Sir Paul Brunton and his travelogue - ‘A Search in Secret India’. Soon we travelled far south and and met one of the most revered saints of his time Mahrshi Raman.”
“When i reached his ashram, I found an assorted group of disciples, some of whom were Europeans there was pin drop silence in the hall. I too found a place and squatted quietly on the floor. We continued to sit for over an hour but nothing seemed to stir.”
“Eventually I could not resist and asked my neighbour - ‘Can I ask him a question?’ I said, pointing towards the Mahrshi.”
‘Be silent, focus on him and think of your query. You will get the answer!’
“I was bemused initially, but later did as advised, and it happened exactly as I was told. This is amazing! I thought.”
Later I realized, the Marshi delved in telepathy
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
My earliest memory of my grandfather dates back to the time when I was 3 years of age.
Everyday at 4 am sharp, he used to wake me up in his long intonated voice.
‘Rahul! Rahul!’ and that used to be the beginning of a fun filled, hyperactive day.
I used to dress up in my favorite German, bear fur jacket, ( although later, I came to know it was synthetic!) while my elder sister used to wear a decorated brick red blazer from Damascus. As he led us out of our family bungalow, we used to hip hop down the clean asphalt road, lined with blossomed Gulmohar trees which stood in awed attendance. During our long morning walk, my grandfather whom we lovingly called Baba, used to shower us with his words of wisdom.
These were mostly excerpts from the life and times of Napoleon Bonaparte, Mahatma Gandhi, Raja Harishchandra and a host of characters from classic literature, all of whom were Baba’s favorite. His pet quotes being ‘There are many a slip between the cup and the lip’ and Napoleon’s famous lines “ It is all the will of destiny that you are going to be the queen of Sweden and I a prisoner of St.Helena."
The road used to turn at right angles to enter a small hamlet where it crossed a pair of metal railway tracks riveted to wooden sleepers. That used to be our final destination.
We waited here day after day with baited breath to watch a huge crimson sun rise slowly from the far end of the horizon. Everyday it inspired a divine epiphany which is difficult to describe.
As the beautiful days passed by, once Baba went on one of his many tours. We got busy with our school - class-work, homework and games. One day, when me and Tulpi returned from school, we were surprised to find a tall well-built man sitting in the drawing room. He was bald and dressed in a flowing maroon robe. On close observation we skipped a beat to see that it was Baba!
‘Come to me Rahul and Tulpi’ he called and embraced us.
‘What have you done to yourself?’ I asked.
‘I have become a Buddhist monk’ he replied calmly.
‘A monk! but why? asked Tulpi
‘That’s a long story, I will tell you in the days to come. But before that you must know, I now have a new name - Lama Thupten Chosdar.’
‘What Lama …….?’ I blurted, trying to pronounce ‘Thupten’.
‘Whatever you may call yourself you will always remain our Baba.’said Tulpi.
The morning walks continued, but the topics of discussion had by and large changed. He told us all about his interesting experiences at the monasteries in Dharamsala and
Bodh Gaya. He was very proud to be the first Indian to be ordained by the Guru of
His Holiness The Dalai Lama. He always spoke of His Holiness with great affection and regard. Baba felt deep remorse about his exile from the Potala Palace in Lhasa, to a forlorn hill station in India.
Much later he told me about an enlightened saint who had predicted -
“ Your Guru will be a saint and ruler of a Kingdom.”
Baba was perplexed by this revelation, for he could not think of such a person, until he met The Dalai Lama.
To be continued…….
Friday, September 10, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Core concepts of the movie Inception are present in The Dreampickers.
Picking dreams, implanting ideas in the subconscious mind, and the psychic barrier,
are all clearly explained in The Dreampickers.
I completed writing The Dreampickers in the year 2008 and send it to many literary agents world wide. It has remained accessible to public on Google Books since last year. The book went on sale on Amazon Kindle on January 7th, 2010. It was short listed for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award in the end of February, this year.
Dressed in a modern garb of future technologies, with a seamless stitching of varying emotions, drama and an astronomical oscillation in time and space, the story proceeds to end in a most engrossing novel.
- James Barton,
Littérateur and Critic
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
The most interesting thing about this book is, that it is inspired by Lama Thupten Chosdar, grandfather of the author, and a highly enlightened soul, who spend his entire life meeting mystics and saints across India, and imbibed a wealth of psychic and spiritual attainment.
Most of the supernatural incidents described in The Dreampickers is based on REAL practices of meditation and Tantra.
I take this oppurtunity to invite all book lovers to savour this new flavour of science fiction and fantasy.
The book is available on https://www.createspace.com/3421093, www.thedreampickers.com and Amazon Kindle.
Wishing you pin drop silence as you read,
Author of The Dreampickers
Thursday, August 12, 2010
A paperback edition of The Dreampickers was launched today amongst big fan fare. The book is now available for purchase on https://www.createspace.com/3421093 at $17.
It can also be bought on The Dreampickers official website www.thedreampickers.com.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Otto’s unforgettable dream
Posted by Jayant Kumar
Joerg is a close friend of mine. We studied together, at the Technical University in Clausthal, Germany. The school had closed for summers and he invited me home to spend the vacation. I readily agreed, and soon we were at their lavish villa in Basel, Switzerland. Joerg’s father Otto was a renowned industrialist and a thorough gentleman.
One night after dinner, the table talk shifted towards the paranormal. Otto described a very strange incidence which had left a permanent mark on his memory.
“This happened 20 years back. It was one of the worst winters in Switzerland with heavy snow fall and icy winds. It had been a long day, and all through I strangely felt that something was amiss. After dinner I went to bed, rather tired, that night.
A couple of hours later, I heard a very familiar voice calling out my name.
‘Otto! Otto!’ It went. I immediately recognized it as Frank’s, who was my younger brother. ‘But how could Frank be calling me?’ I thought. He lived in New York, besides I had spoken to him recently and he had no plans to visit me so soon.
‘Otto! Otto!’ he called me again. I immediately got out of my bed and looked outside. To my surprise, I saw Frank standing at the gate, across the driveway.
‘Frank come inside’ I shouted.
‘Why are you standing outside in the cold’
Frank did not respond to my question, and went on calling my name.
‘Wait I am coming’ I shouted and ran out of the house in my night gown.
‘Frank come inside’ I repeated.
As I went near him, I saw him moving away from the gate, but all the time
he was facing me.
‘I have come to say goodbye Otto’ he said.
‘But I don’t understand!’ I blurted in total confusion.
‘I love you Otto!’ said Frank.
‘Good bye!’ he repeated.
I ran towards him, he seemed to be moving back and away from me, and by the time I reached the gate, he was gone.
I woke up very disturbed and got out of bed to drink water.
Gertrud (my wife) woke up and asked me what happened. I described the
whole incident to her. She consoled me that it was just a dream.
I couldn’t sleep after that.
An hour later there was a call from New York. It was Mary, Frank’s wife. She informed us that Frank had passed away a short while ago, due to