A Simple Life!

Everyone Has A Story To Tell.

Tag: Mindfulness Page 1 of 2

man wearing grey shirt standing on elevated surface

The breeze on a summer evening

The feel of grass on the bare feet

The stars twinkling in the night sky

White puffs of cloud floating in the open sky

The smell of coffee brewing on the stove

The dance of the cranes in the paddy fields

The wind singing in the bamboo groove

The sounds of the children playing

The vastness of the deserts

The wonder of the supermoon

The winding country road to the village

The hunting lodge deep in the woods

The hug of a dear one after a long time

The shafts of sunlight pouring on the windowsill

The song of the distant cuckoo

The eagles gliding lazily in the azure sky

The chant of Lamas in the monastery

The song playing in the head

The quick dance steps in the bathroom

The warmth of the glass of tea in winters

The grin at the end of an enduring ride

The laughter around the campfire

The joy of togetherness of an old couple

The gratitude on the dining table

The pleasure of walking in new shoes

The freshness of the falling snow

The pitter-patter of rain on a tin roof

The sweat from a match well played

The pride in a sacrifice made for the cause

The joy of a kid coming home from school

The happiness in freeing the trapped honeybee

The aimless chase behind the elusive butterfly

The randomness and unpredictability

Well, that’s Life!

By

On 2022-07-15

In Poems

blank bouquet card color

My Love For Fountain Pens

By

On 2022-06-24

In Culture

I love to use my fountain pen like a child would love to play with his new toys. I ‘am not a collector type of enthusiast, but I am a user of these fine writing instruments. It is a mindfulness exercise of sorts for me.

This is what I use these days for writing.

Intellio Mystique Fine Tip

As far back as I can remember, I never had good handwriting, in fact, it was not that bad either. This phase lasted till I got on to using a fountain pen. Ever since my father presented me with his Sheaffer fountain pen way back in the early 1980s I got hooked on writing with fountain pens. My writing started to get appreciated. I love the strokes of the fountain pen as much as I love the sound of the nib rubbing against the paper. The strokes seem to have their own unique character be it the trailing sharply pointed ones or the thicker abrupt ending ones, each one is unique to itself. 

I am not sure if people really love to write with anything other than a fountain pen or for that matter a lead pencil, which does not slip and allows the creation of those strokes. They continue to write using anything just because it needs to be done and done with. As regards me, I feel that using a fountain pen is far better than using anything else – be it a ballpoint pen, a roller pen or any of the numerous disposable types of pens. Maybe, because when I started to use ink, it was using a good fountain pen. Consequently, very early in life, I developed a taste for fountain pens. I have ever since used numerous types of fountain pens, both cheap ones and expensive ones. There have been cheap Chinese fountain pens and exclusive imported pens from various parts of the world – some presented to me and some bought by me. I have equally enjoyed writing with all of them. There have been numerous exams and tests since 1983 that I have written and all have been with my fountain pens.

In the present times of digital everything, I still love to use a fountain pen, though the amount of writing that I do now has considerably reduced. Quite a bit of writing has been taken away by the digital notes and the digital pen which I find convenient at times to use when making notes on the iPad. But I continue to use a fountain pen for nearly everything which involves writing on paper. My love for the fountain pen has not diminished over the years and even when I have started using digital methods of note-taking. I always have possessed a fountain pen which moves me wherever I go. Carrying a fountain pen full of ink in an aircraft can be pretty messy – fortunately, I have never been in that mess.  But with time the chore of emptying the fountain pen and carrying the ink separately has just become another routine now. Come what may I prefer to use my fountain pen every time I can.

Many people will have many reasons to use the fountain pen. Following are my reasons, which I feel, are the cause of the joy that writing with a  fountain pen brings: –

  • Comfort – This is something that the fountain pen teaches you. If you use a fountain pen then you don’t use pressure like that required for writing with a ballpoint. Your strokes are light, like that of an artist. Thus, you get less tired of writing. It is thus great for lengthy writing like in exams!
  • Personalisation – Well, it is true that a fountain pen does become personalised over a period of time. Pressure, strokes and the way you hold your pen make the nib rub the paper in a way peculiar to you. You cannot be as comfortable with somebody else’s fountain pen as your own in spite of it being exactly like yours. This is because a fountain pen is a personalised thing.
  • Legibility – Legibility with a fountain pen is far better than that with any other type of pen. This is merely because of the fact that the strokes of a fountain pen are not uniform. The way the strokes change with the twists and turns of the nib makes your writing more legible.
  • Cost – The use of a fountain pen is far more cost-effective than all other pens. Even if you decide to use a costly one the cost remains low over a long period. In fact, the value of your writing instruments will become more with time.

The above not considering the charm of using a fountain pen is always there. These days if I see someone using a fountain pen I immediately establish a connection with that person. It is something like having a common hobby.

I have yet to meet somebody who uses a fountain pen and is shy of using a pen and paper, for they all love to write like me. 🙂

The Sacred Heart School, Sidhpur

Mummy, The School Is Closed!

By

On 2022-06-10

In Life's Flow

This is about my elder son DJ, just when he started going to Nursery School.

He had joined The Sacred Heart School, Sidhbari in Kangra, India in the month of November, a very cold month in the foothills of the great Dhauladhar Range of the Himalayas.

On that particularly cold day, DJ came back from school on the school bus saying that the school was closed. The insistence by the bus conductor that the school is not closed had been of no avail. He had managed to convince the bus conductor that his school was closed and therefore, he needed to be home. Now, that seemed quite difficult to believe. The school authorities would have definitely been prompt in informing the parents about the school being closed, all of a sudden for whatever reason. Soon the school bus also left and The Bitter Half (well, that’s what I call my better half!) decided to cross-check with the other parents and was told that the school was open. Baack then, there was no way to check out with the school other than by going to the school itself. Mobile phones were non-existent and we did not have a landline telephone – it was yet to be installed in the house.

The Bitter Half, well she has a keen perception of the way kids think, decided that the reason for the elder one coming back was not that the school was closed for the day but because of some other reason. She immediately dumped the school bag along with the DJ in the car and off she went to the school, perplexed and amused she could not decide. This seemed interesting.

At the entrance to the school, it was amply clear that the school was not closed. There were children in the classrooms whom one could hear sing their nursery rhymes, from as far away as the school gate, unless of course, this school was a haunted one! There were other signs as well, like the school peon, who was polite in telling that during school hours you could only go up to the office premises and not beyond, lest you disturb the students who were attending their classes. When The Bitter Half reached the school office she felt fortunate that the Principal was there. She the entire story to the Principal who seemed amused. She also told how DJ had managed to come back home saying that the school was closed. The Principal called for DJ and asked him why had he gone back from the school when the school was open. The answer was prompt – ‘Sister, the school is closed”. The principal told DJ that the school was not closed and all the students were there. All the trying to tell was of no help in convincing DJ that the school wasn’t closed. Finally, she asked DJ to go to his classroom.

DJ would surely have met some of his classmates and any child could infer from the activity that the school was not having a holiday that cold winter day. The Principal and The Bitter Half were still wondering what was in the boy’s mind when DJ returned to the office and announced that the school was indeed closed!

The Principal decided that it would be better to accompany the student who was so sure about the school being closed when it was actually open. She asked DJ to lead the way to the classroom. On reaching the classroom, DJ went up to the door, which was shut to keep the bitter cold out. With all the exasperation he could muster for not believing him that the school was closed, he very confidently pointed to the class door and said, ” I told you, school is closed!” The Principal pushed open the door and I ‘am sure DJ would have given that typical quizzical look he often did at that age when he experienced a sudden perception change. At that point, I was not there but I am sure that he was probably more in wonder and far less ashamed that his conviction proved to be incorrect. He just shrugged his shoulders, said by to The Bitter Half and walked to his seat to attend school. The Bitter Half and the Principal stood smiling, in a failed attempt to not show their amusement to the teacher who would only know why one of her favourite students was absent from the class because “The School was not open”!

A small boy has his perception of things – his school is his classroom and everything happening within that room – how he spends his time with his classmates or his teacher is his school. Beyond that classroom whatever that is associated with the ‘school’ is beyond his idea of what a school is ‘school’. Having a talk about his ‘school’ always meant having a talk about his classmates and his teacher and whatever happened within the confines of the classroom for the rest of the school was a playground.

It is so easy for parents to assume that small kids will perceive things the way grown-ups will perceive them, especially having never taken the effort to make them understand simple things as they develop their perceptions. I ‘am now grateful for a whole lot of things that DJ has learnt on his own many things without having been told. I have often talked about this incident and what it taught us as raised two good boys to be good successful citizens. It was a great lesson – simple thoughts do convey a lot.

Thank God for such good times that make us smile even today. 

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