scrapologie

Ahista, Ahista (Slowly, Slowly)

As a second-generation Indian American and a language lover, I have often felt that growing up in the midst of dual (and sometimes dueling) cultures has been both a blessing and a curse. To boot, being from Southern India and not a speaker of the national language (Hindi), I have, at times, felt that I have existed on the fringe of Indian culture and community. Worst of all is the knowledge that in India there exists a rich and varied cultural tradition of music, poetry, literature and art, of which I know very little. The best way I can describe it would be the feeling that one is an outsider in the midst of a very exclusive club, to which nearly every Indian is a card-carrying member.

Despite this setback, I grew up in a house where my parents loved and often shared their love of Indian music and culture with their three girls. It didn't matter that we children didn't know Hindi,and that many of the songs were sung in Hindi. My sisters and I grew up listening to the likes of Lata Mangeshkar, Kishore Kumar, Asha Bhosle, Mukesh and Mohammed Rafi, names that few of my readers will know, but were major Indian playback singers in their day. We sang along with the songs, many of them from popular Hindi films, butchering many of the Hindi words, and picking them up anyway, through imitation of the sounds we heard, but we got the melodies right, even though we had no idea what the words meant. Our introduction to Hindi came in the way of songs from Bollywood films - usually love songs or catchy, danceable tunes. At some point, we became aware that there was a finer, artistic side to Indian music - particularly when we learned of the existence of the Urdu language.

Urdu, which is the national language of neighboring Pakistan, is also spoken widely in India, and from what I have observed, enjoys a status equivalent to what the French language would be to the Western world.

I first heard Urdu spoken when I met a beautiful Pakistani girl in my sophomore year at Ohio State University and ended up living with her and her brother for a good many months. Even their simple greetings of "Assalaamu Alaikum" (Peace be upon you), the response "Wa'alaikum asalaam" (And upon you, peace) and "Khuda Hafiz" (May God be your guardian) sounded to me like the elevated speech of angels. I was literally enthralled hearing the soft, mellifluous words roll off their tongues and wished fervently that I could speak Urdu. Aziza taught me many things about Pakistan and plenty of Urdu words as well. She spoke intelligent and cultured English, but when she spoke Urdu, the sound of her words took on an angelic, almost magical quality.To this day I love hearing her speak Urdu, and when I recently visited her in her home in Washington, DC, felt again that longing to be a native and fluent speaker of Urdu.

Urdu is similar to Hindi, and they share many common words, but there are some significant differences:

Although the auditory sensation of Urdu has some relation with Hindi, there are some distinguishing substantive differences between the two languages. Hindi is usually written in Devanagari script, where as Urdu is generally written in Arabic script. Some words of Urdu are also taken from Turkish. As a result of combination of many languages, Urdu has ginormous (sic) set of purposeful and substantive words. The finesse and quality of Urdu literature is really appreciable. Urdu literature was comprised of mystic spiritual poems. Due to the spiritual leeway of the princedoms’ sawyers, Urdu literature adopted Hindu and Muslim motifs. (cited from www.indianchild.com)

Wikipedia cites the history of Urdu as follows:

Based on the Khariboli dialect of Delhi, Urdu developed under the influence of Persian, Arabic, and Turkic languages over the course of almost 900 years. It began to take shape in the region of Uttar Pradesh in the Indian subcontinent during the Delhi Sultanate (1206–1527), and continued to develop under the Mughal Empire (1526–1858). Urdu is mutually intelligible with Standard Hindi spoken in India. Both languages share the same Indo-Aryan base, and are so similar in basic structure, grammar and to a large extent vocabulary and phonology, that they appear to be one language. The combined population of Urdu and Standard Hindi speakers is the fourth largest in the world.

Urdu poetry is also very popular in India and Pakistan and has a long and rich history. I don't know enough about it myself, to expound upon it in detail but I first learned of Urdu poetry through my love of music, particularly my love of ghazals:

A ghazal is a poetic form consisting of rhyming couplets and a refrain, with each line sharing the same meter. A ghazal may be understood as a poetic expression of both the pain of loss or separation and the beauty of love in spite of that pain. The form is ancient, originating in 6th-century Arabic verse. (cited from Wikipedia)

I don't remember when I first heard the voice of (the now deceased) Jagjit Singh, one of India's foremost ghazal singers. I fell in love with his smooth, soulful voice. The following ghazal sung by Jagjit Singh and written by Ameer Meenai, a respected 19th century Urdu poet, is very popular in India and Pakistan. Titled "Sarakti Jaye Hai Rukh Se Naqab", it is a love song that was also featured in an Indian film. In the video that follows, you can hear Jagjit Singh in concert singing an achingly beautiful rendition of this song. The sounds of shouting in the background are nothing less than the audience's effusive appreciation of his masterful singing, and probably of the poetry as well. I've included the lyrics in Urdu, and the translation below, found on the net; (however, not being a speaker of Urdu myself, I can't vouch for the accuracy of the translation). Nevertheless, if you've never heard a ghazal, or any other music, for that matter, from a different part of the world, I hope you'll open your heart and mind to this movingly beautiful work. I am living proof that you don't need to be an "insider" to love and appreciate music - music extends universal membership to all who seek it with love and an open heart, and breaks down the barriers of race, creed and language.

And to those who seek knowledge and enlightenment, perhaps knowledge and enlightenment  also come to them at last... ahista, ahista.

Don't forget to scroll all the way down to pause the Music Box in the sidebar at the left, before you start the video!

[Male part:]

sarakatii jaaye hai ruKh se naqaab ahista ahista
Sliding from her face, the veil. Slowly, slowly.

nikalataa aa rahaa hai aaftaab ahista ahista

The moon reveals itself. Slowly, slowly.

jawaaN hone lage jab vo to ham se kar liyaa pardaa

Entering youth, from me she veiled herself.

hayaa yakalaKht aayii aur shabaab ahista ahista

Shyness came at once, but maturity came... Slowly, slowly.

The next two couplets are not in this rendition of the song, but I've heard

other renditions where they do include them:

[Female part:]
shabefurkat kaa jaagaa huuN farishton ab to sone do
I am awake since the night we parted. By the Angels! Let me sleep.

kabhii fursat men kar lenaa hisaab ahista ahista

Later at leisure, you may calculate who owes what. Slowly, slowly.

[Male part:]
savaalevasl par unako uduu kaa Khauf hai itanaa
Conversation, like a villain, scares her so much

Dabe honThon se dete hain javaab aahistaa aahistaa

Through tightened lips she replies, slowly, slowly.

hamaare aur tumhaare pyar men bas fark hai itanaa

Mine and your love differs in this only

idhar to jaldii jaldii hai udhar aahistaa aahistaa

This side seeks speed and that side... Slowly, slowly

[Female Part:]

vo bedardii se sar kaaTe "ameer" aur main kahuuN un se
How unkindly the prince executes me... yet I say to him

huzuur aahistaa aahistaa, janaab ahista ahista

Lord, slowly, slowly. Sir, slowly, slowly.

 

 

  

Vintage Images - Vintage Valentines

I know I said I'd post one a week, and then ended up doing three posts in a day! Really wanted to share these though, the images are so sweet and you can use them for valentine projects. Enjoy!

 

Vintage Image - Pink Roses

Flowers, and roses in particular, have always been a favorite. I love the image on this old French postcard!

Vintage Image - Girl with Apple

I'd like to get back to sharing the vintage digitally colorized images I used to post on the blog. I won't promise a daily share, but I think I can manage atleast one a week, perhaps more. Hope this sweet image brightens your Monday. Have a great week!

Fitness Photojournal - Injury Timeout

Just popping in for a quick update. I've had to really dial down the exercise for about a week and a half now and it sucks. I am still going to the gym, switched to focusing on a resistance workout for my upper body and abs/torso workouts, plus lots of stretching. I've had to avoid the treadmill entirely and after nine days off, got back on the treadmill yesterday, walking, not running, for half an hour plus I started resistance on the lower body again. I still felt achy afterwards, but wasn't limping in pain like I had been 10 days ago. Still, I think I'm not fully recovered yet so I am going to take the weekend off and just focus on rest, ice, compression and elevation.It really makes one appreciate what athletes have to go through to stay healthy and on top of their game. If any of you runners out there have any tips on rebounding quickly from an injury - please let me know!

We're supposed to have an unusually warm weekend so I'm going to try and enjoy it while it lasts before we get our next blast of winter. Here's the photo update, holding steady at 142 lbs. and I expect I will until I can get back on the treadmill.

I really need to do a photoshoot of the little one soon - she was "too busy" last weekend and told me that she had "too many projects to do, Mommy". I think she's nine going on 23, sigh. Bon weekend!

 

 

 

 

 

A Wintry Palette: Season of White

As time goes by, I've learned to befriend winter, and appreciate her beauty. Winter is as temperamental as a woman; at times, raging and battering us with her sleeted icy fingers; at times, blowing us kisses with her gentle snowflakes that spiral down in a dance of graceful silence, to melt upon our faces.  She gives us ample opportunity to pause and turn inwards, to examine our thoughts and to be introspective. She offers us nights near a blazing fire, wrapped in a blanket, with nothing but a cup of tea and a good book for company. She makes us pause and examine our lives, so that we may consider all that we have sowed, and that which we have yet to sow and reap. As you settle into January, take time to enjoy those moments of solitude that is winter's gift to us.

(All images from Pinterest, for credits - please check my Pinterest board here and click through the image to its orginating website).

 

Brew me a cup for a winter's night, For the wind howls loud and the fairies fight; Spice it with love and stir it with care, And I'll toast our bright eyes, my sweetheart fair.    -Minna Thomas Antrim

 

 

 

"When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, they melted as they fell."     -John Dryden

Winter came down to our home one night
Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow,
And we, we were children once again.
~Bill Morgan, Jr.

 

 

The snow-drop, who, in habit white and plain, Comes on the herald of fair Flora's train.  -Charles Churchill

 

 

Lo, sifted through the winds that blow, Down comes the soft and silent snow, White petals from the flowers that grow In the cold atmosphere.  -George W. Bungay

 

It doesn't matter. I'm not asking forever of you...just let me love you now.    -The Snow Queen (Joan Vinge)

 

Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger. She calls her family together within her inmost home to prepare them for being scattered abroad upon the face of the earth. -Hugh Macmillan, "Rejuvenescence," The Ministry of Nature, 1871

 

Every winter,
When the great sun has turned his face away,
The earth goes down into a vale of grief,
And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables,
Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay -
Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses.
~Charles Kingsley

 

Of winter's lifeless world each tree
Now seems a perfect part;
Yet each one holds summer's secret
Deep down within its heart.
~Charles G. Stater

 

 

There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you.... In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself.  ~Ruth Stout

 

Now winter nights enlarge
The number of their hours,
And clouds their storms discharge
Upon the airy towers....
~Thomas Campion, "Winter Nights"

 

Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home. ~Edith Sitwell

 

Welcome, winter. Your late dawns and chilled breath make me lazy, but I love you nonetheless. ~Terri Guillemets

some truths

 

 

I resolve

"To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance". (Oscar Wilde)

I'm not one for making a long list of new year resolutions, I'd rather focus on one or two things. Last year I wanted to achieve health and fitness goals - to lose weight, build muscle, tone and strength. I've nearly reached that goal. This year, my resolve is to build my internal strength as well. For me, that means upholding what I will and will not accept in my relationships with others, and what I will and will not accept in my life. I resolve to hold true to those beliefs I value most, regardless of what others think and believe about me, and above all, to respect and honor myself. I've learned that I am my own best friend and my own worst critic. This is the year I become fearless about showing my face to the world.

 

This is the year that I begin my love affair with me. This is the year I gaze starry eyed at my own goals and dreams instead of gazing starry eyed at another.

 

 

 

This is the year I revitalize not just my body, but my mind and my soul as well. I wish you a happy, healthy and peaceful 2013!

 

In the arms of the angel...

image from My Modern Met

 

On December 16th, a 23-year-old Indian paramedic student was beaten up, tortured and raped on a bus by six men in Delhi, India. The torture included the insertion of an iron rod into her body as the bus drove around Delhi. She was then stripped of her clothing and thrown out of the bus along with her male friend, who was also badly beaten up. She had boarded the bus with her friend after returning from a movie, thinking it was a city transit bus. The bus apparently was a private bus that had been taken for a joyride by the six men. "Damini" as the victim came to be known, was admitted to Delhi's Safdarjung Hospital along with her friend, the same night. After a valiant struggle, she was transferred to Mount Elizabeth Hospital in Singapore where she died on December 29th, unable to overcome the massive internal injuries she sustained. She is in the arms of the angel, and is no longer suffering, but she leaves behind a nation angered to the core and outraged at the brutal viciousness of this crime, a nation that is rallying for justice and also for the much needed social change that has historically been ignored by its patriarchal society and its government. May her death not have been in vain.

This is for you, Damini, and for every other female who has been victimized by violence. Our hearts weep for you, and we will never forget the ordeal you have suffered. Rest in peace.

 

 

In the Arms of The Angel (Sarah MacLachlan)

Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
They may be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

In the arms of an Angel fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here

So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees

In the arms of the Angel far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here

You're in the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here

 

 

Self-Portrait Photography

Sharing a few additional photos I took yesterday with the cell phone camera. I usually don't get good shots with the cell phone, so I am pleased at how these turned out; I did run some PS actions on them but had good base shots to start with, courtesy of the ample natural light in my bedroom. You can find good information on taking better self-portraits here, on Elsie's blog. She has some great tips as well as posing suggestions. I've never been entirely comfortable with sharing photos of myself, but I'm trying to get over that, and figuring the more photos I take, the more I'll get used to it.

I was lying down in all of these photos. I found that lying on the bed helped me to stabilize the camera as I was able to keep my body perfectly still. There's a bit too much light from the window that I was unable to underexpose in this first shot, but it does have a sort of cool, artsy vibe to it, nonetheless.

 

This one is my favorite. The lighting is near perfect. For this pose, I had one hand tucked under my chin and the other arm straight out holding the camera (that's why the photo is cropped -- to eliminate the photo-taking arm).

 

A little iffy about this one. Looks like I am in a cave with a flashlight on my face, but I was determined to share it anyway!

 

This unintentionally came out looking like a 1930s Greta Garbo pose! Looks like I'm hanging upside down off the bed, but I was, in fact, lying flat, with the camera held straight overhead.

You can also find great photography resources on Pinterest by doing a search for photography. You'll find lots and lots of photog boards with great tips and links to some very helpful photography sites.

Thanks for letting me share, and have a good weekend!