COVID19 vs Humans of the Earth

 COVID19 vs Humans of the Earth

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There were days when I wanted to stay home.

There were days when I wanted to spend time with family.

There were days when I did not want to do any work; just be lazy.

There were days when I felt like eating, watching TV and sleeping.

There were days when I wanted to spend time gardening and nothing else.

There were days when I wanted just the 4 of us, plus the pets, to stay together.

There were days when I wished to spend a day on personal grooming.

But now, now now now, now

All I want to do is go to work.

Do something else other than cooking, eating, reading and watching tv.

Entertainment beyond a point is nerve-wracking.

Life without structure and discipline is chaos.

Let us pray for this lockdown to culminate in a positive outcome.

Either the virus kills all of us, or we eliminate the virus.

If the stalemate between COVID-19 and humans on earth continues, then, believe me, we are heading into a disaster.

Let us win this battle by staying put at home and breaking the viruses' backbone by jumping from human to human.

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The virus is mocking us in the following way :

You foolish people

I can travel faster than your science and logic.

I am all over the earth now.

I caught a plane on a free ticket to reach every corner.

The only way for you to cut me out is to cut down on your greed, arrogance, and ego.

Overcome your weaknesses before making plans to eliminate me.

I am the new messenger of God.

Call me the dashavatar, or the 10th avatar of Vishnu, as Hindus call it.

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Remember :

When Kalki descends on this earth, it will be the beginning of the end of life on earth, and a new cycle of time will begin.

All religions have stories to tell about how life on Earth is going to end.

This COVID-19 fits into the Hindu narrative.

The battle between a micro and a mega life form.

The micro is devoid of greed, lust, and ego, so he can defeat the most intelligent creature in the universe.

The perfect textbook ending.

The virus is invisible, changing form, size, shape and spread pattern.

He is confusing us, making us fight with each other...

Putting us under lockdown, Making us feel helpless, frustrated, impotent and useless...

All the BIG brains globally put together haven't found medicine to kill it. The battle is on for the past 150 days.

Forces of the world are rallying to defeat it.

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In treta yuga, in Lanka, the battle between ram and Ravan was fought for 13 days.

In dwapara yuga, the war of Kurukshetra between the Kauravas and Pandavas was fought for 18 days.

In both cases, dharma won over adharma. Right over wrong.

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Between kovid19 vs humans of the earth, who is on the side of dharma?

Which is the corrupt and greedy party here?

Don't we know the answer?

Will we lose the battle to it?

We may not lose it in a go, but we lose it by an inch a day.

Like treta and dwapra yuga, the final battle will not be counted in days but in months and years.

have we reached a point of no return?

Certainly not as of now, but if we do not understand the seriousness of the battle we are fighting, then we are certainly giving more space to COVID-19.

If we give it a millimetre, it will soon capture a percentage of the population of that locality.

The rich will die, but their near and dear will live regretting not doing much to prevent the virus from entering their homes.

the poor will die, but their kith and kin will recover as they will get busy searching for the next meal, and cannot waste time brooding...

The religious preachers will die, surrendering their gods to science in the end.

The arrogant and careless will fall first.

The corrupt and greedy will fall next.

The high and mighty will follow suit.

Slowly, in a phased manner, all of us will go.

Only the wise will remain, only the givers will remain, and only the selfless will remain.

Are you one of them?

Do you want to survive?

Do you want your family to survive?

Then DO NOT ACT STUPID...

do not make comments like

”HUMKO KUCH NAHI HOGA”, HUMARA BHAGWAN/ALLAH BACHAYEGA.

do not put others' lives at risk for your selfish personal goals.

Everything can wait...

BLOODY HELL, for now, FOLLOW THE RULES.

FIGHT COVID-19, not each other.

let us die a respectable death, not a helpless one.

© copy right #SANGEETAREDDY 20th May 2024

Sameer Wankhede and Virat kohli- Hero or zero ? 01/11/2021

 Sameer Wankhede and Virat Kohli- Hero or zero ?

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What Sameer Wankhede did to Aryan Khan, whether right or wrong, will be known after the NCB files the charge sheet. There may be a watertight case, or, as alleged, Mr Wankhede does it just to remain in the limelight.

BUT

What Nawab Mallik is doing to Sameer Wankhede and his family needs to be corrected.

Shahrukh Khan had a Hindu wedding; does it make him a Hindu?

What is surprising is a section of people are siding with Aryan Khan because he is half-Muslim.

But the same section of people does not support Sameer Wankhede, who is also half-Muslim.

Why?

Where are the people who spearhead the minority rights campaign?

No organisation is voicing their concern for a Dalit's son.

Rohit Vemula garnered considerable support for his Dalit antecedents. There was a nationwide uproar, and rightly so.

All those who made allegations on NCB for targeting a Muslim superstar's son are quiet when a Dalit father and Muslim mother's son are facing the heat.

Duality?

The liberal brigade(LB) dislikes one trying to fight the drug menace because he is perceived as a BJP man, and MVA is fighting the BJP.

Once upon a time, the LB hated SHIV SENA when it was with the BJP.

My gut feeling is Sameer Wankhede refused to do vasooli from Bollywood for the MVA government, hence the collective hatred for him.

Money is the biggest dharma; every ideology and doctrine fades near it.

The one accused of doing drugs garners all the support because the accused's father is perceived to be against the BJP.

So it all boils down to hating BJP, nothing to do with ideology, because Shiv Sena is a branch of the same ideology.

People(Liberal Brigade) who survived on the alms of congress lived a feudal lifestyle and received favours at the drop of a hat, and they are working hard with the Gandhi family to bring back those good old days.

Congress lived in fear of RSS forever; the fears envisaged by Nehru are now seeing the light of the day.

It is a power tussle between 2 giant parties fighting for authority. All the vested interests take one side for their agendas, favours, and accomplishments.

It is a plain business for the BJP, Congress, and their supporters, but for us, Janata, it is an emotional matter.

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I was jaw-dropped to see the same people from the Liberal brigade who trolled Anushka and Virat when they filmed a rich guy littering the street (on the high of Modi's Swach Bharat Abhiyan) are now standing in Virat Kohli's support.

He is being liked now because of his anti-cracker statement during Diwali celebrations.

Anushka and Virat were also made fun of when they met PM Modi and invited him to their wedding reception. They were labelled bhaktas or right-wing. A sudden newfound love for Kohli emerged when he started showing signs of distancing himself from Hindu festivals/sentiments.

The entire country is trolling Virat for his poor performance in cricket and fantastic acting skills in advertisements. The trolling has nothing to do with his crackers statement. If he won the match against Pakistan, maybe some Indian Hindus would have given up crackers.

I grew up watching cricket. Every cricket fan is a fanatic, and every cricketer has faced trolls since time immemorial. Cricket itself is a religion; the player should worship cricket; otherwise, he is sent to the gallows by fans irrespective of his faith.

I never saw a captain coming out and abusing fans. The credit goes only to Virat Kohli.

Dear Virat Kohli, you are liked, adored, admired and respected because of your cricketing skills, and nothing else matters. Be loyal to the religion of cricket to have followers. The rest of the impact of your opinions on religion, nationality, brands, etc., will directly affect your performance level as a cricketer.

Don't get carried away by the love of LB; they will change their opinions once you do a namaste to any godman. You will get demoted to a bhakta.

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The liberal brigade changes its discourse with every passing day. When they say they are speaking in support of a Dalit, minority or women's rights, It becomes clear to people listening to them that they are lying.

They are catering to their biases, personal vendettas, and the favours received and anticipated. No one in the real world worries about the other person; the sympathy wave and the favourable atmosphere can change overnight if the right goodies reach the liberal brigade on time.

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I like the right wing (of all the religions) more than the pseudo-secular gang because the right is honest in wearing the heart on their sleeve.

There are no hidden agendas or motives. Their mission and vision are out in the open. They speak what they mean and do what they preach.

Trusting and doing business with them is easier than the chameleons changing colours. They foolishly and blindly fight for the rights of their creator.

They are not cunning but stupid.

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Closing with sameer wankhede

Maybe Growing up, he watched a lot of Bollywood, and the super cop characters left an impression on his mind, and he tried to enact them in real life. It may be one of the reasons he married a movie star. He is now playing the role of an Honest officer out on a mission to clean the system. We all draw our inspiration from various characters and personalities and often from Bollywood. Like Swadesh, Mohan Bhargava made a handful of NRIs return to their motherland. So our Sameer Saab is the perceived Hero of the movie, a drug lord supported by Nawab Mallik's real mafia, and Aryan Khan, a minor side character. Shahrukh Khan and Aryan Khan have accepted and pleasantly underplayed the small role. Nawab Saab is doing overaction; I hope the Hero (if he is the Hero) will make it a befitting climax.

The innocent Indian who grew up watching Bollywood and cricket will worship an evil-destroying Hero and a triumphant captain.

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Seven years ago on this date

 Seven years ago on this date

I travelled to Hyderabad to see daddy for one last time.

Then I was broken and shaken to the core, with doubts plaguing my mind about my ability to manage life without him as I was hugely dependent on him.

The anchor and guide, the mentor and guardian, the father and friend, he played multiple roles with ease and enthusiasm.

Seven years later, waiting at the same airport, remembering him fondly and thanking him for teaching me everything he could while alive.

He knew he would go someday soon, but we were unprepared to see him off. As a father, he left written and unwritten guidance on how to take life after him.

That guidance and wisdom is what I cherish the most. Material wealth may perish, but life lessons are precious and will remain for generations to come.

Rest in peace, father..

I will try to keep you alive through me.

You reflect in my sons smiles

In my daughters love for books

In my love for watching sports

In our kitchen every time I marinate chicken, I remember you teaching mother the importance of marinating the meat.

I remember everytime I celebrate a festival how you read stories to us from religious texts.

I emulate you in crises management.

I learnt from you the joy of giving gifts.

Rest in peace father..

Seven years later at the same airport, waiting to fly to Hyderabad to make some happy memories.

Dad, the time has gone by in an instant, I do miss you, but I don't cry anymore when I think of you.

We celebrate the time you spent with us, and like you, I started preparing my children by teaching them everything I know.

Rest in peace, dad!

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41Jayalaxmi Takkala, Rahul Reddy and 39 others

Saturn : om shanti

 Saturn Reddy

12/01/2019

to

02/04/2024.

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We lost Saturn to multiple health issues, he has been fighting them for some time.

Yesterday evening he breathed his last in the arms of his father, in my presence and on video were his siblings connected from remote locations.

He waited for all of us to come together before he breathed his last.

He accepted Gangajal, and Tulsi's leaves and amidst the chanting of the holy mantra left for the heavenly abode. He was surrounded by his caregivers, his beloved people, his older brother Leo and family friends.

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To each one of you who made the last 15 fifteen days tolerable a big thank you on behalf of our beloved Saturna and myself.

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The best part of my work day was always coming home to Saturn.

Not a day went by when he didn't come to see me off at the gate with a sad face and receive me at home in the evening with joy and enthusiasm.

The last 5 years were the most beautiful years of my life. Saturn introduced me to the kind of selfless love, and loyalty hitherto unknown to me, my parents, husband, children, friends and family all put together did not make me feel as blessed as Saturn did during his 63 months on this planet with me.

I have been in and out of hospitals with him for the past 15 days, since morning I have been feeling so purposeless and unemployed without the responsibility of taking care of him

There is a deep void that is haunting me, and it cannot be filled by anything or anyone. The joy of knowing and being with my soulmate my satelove(saturn+love) is beyond words and expressions."

He made me fall in love with him, he taught me companionship, and he taught me loyalty and dedication. Every trouble coming towards me has to fight him first. He saved me from dangers and accidents manier times.

He fought back rigorously for a long length of time but in the end, he couldn't take it anymore hence decided to cross the rainbow bridge to claim his rightful place in heaven.

He kept space reserved for me too, Dear Saturn, wait for me my love I will pack up after attending to my duties here.

You and I together will live happily ever after.

If you ask for it, even the owner of heaven will not refuse to accommodate me next to you.

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We feel orphaned but nevertheless

Our Saturn is keeping a watch from the heavens to ward off every evil coming our way.

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Mutter = Green pigeon peas.

 Mutter = Green pigeon peas.

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What green peas are to North India =  pigeon peas are to my hometown.

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Recipes made by

 using green pigeon peas is very special during the winters in the place where I come from.

They are called SOLALU in the colloquial north Telangana region.

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During my childhood, I watched the spectacle of aunties sitting on the veranda shelling peas on most of the winter evenings. They never looked down while shelling the peas but their hands moved swiftly and artistically between the pods.

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Some of the homes had the peas coming from the village farms while others brought them from the weekly farm market. 

Whoever had them coming from the farm ensured the peas were distributed in the immediate neighbourhood. 

They never ate in isolation. Everything concerning food moved swiftly between the homes.

All the aunties knew each other's favourite vegetable items and all of them participated In reaching fav  food to their friend's  doorstep by employing children as the courier service.

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The most loved  and demanded  dishes  were brinjal+peas(which I cooked today) and peas biryani(tastes yummier than meat biryani)

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Some of my school friends who live away from INDIA  buy packed pigeon peas from supermarkets and ask for recipes from their moms back home. The pictures they present of the cooked dishes take us all down memory lane.

And each of us travels into the past  discussing the special tastes of our respective homes.

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As I did not have access to the peas in any supermarkets around the town I decided on the last season to grow them here BY MYSELF.

These peas go on t become tuar/arhar dal.

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The last picture of the collage is dedicated to the memory of all the aunties I watched growing up.

Thank you for leaving us a rich heritage of cuisines and values around sharing the food with neighbours.

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A Saga of Mothers Bangles

 A Saga of Mothers Bangles

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There was a lane dedicated to bangle shops in our small town.

It was a slim lane bustling with activity during the afternoon and evening.

The vendors were mostly Mohammedans, with their antecedents traced to Uttara Pradesh. However, as time passed, they learned the local language, culture, and traditions and almost became a part of the local Muslim community.

 The teenage girls, to be brides, married women everyone thronged the shop throughout the day.

On specific evenings, my mother and her friends used to visit the shop together. The ladies hardly ever kept a large stock of anything at home and only bought things when they were needed. For instance, my mother would wait until she had only three or fewer bangles in her hand before going to the shop to purchase a new set of bangles.

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There were plain and designer bangles, the plain bangles were cheaper in comparison to the ones with the golden imprints.

On festive occasions, mom used to buy designer ones and rest of the year plain bangles. Both patterns looked stunning on her arms. A dozen bangles in the center with gold bangles on both sides as borders was the most popular fashion trend of those times.

 As a child, I accompanied my mom to the market many evenings after returning from school. The shops were always filled with beautiful glass bangles, in a multitude of colours bringing so much joy to women from all segments of society in a small bylane of the main market.

Some of my male classmates lived in the colony adjacent to the bangle shops. I often used to spot some boys while on mom's shopping spree, but we were all prohibited from acknowledging each other outside of school. It was scandalous to speak to a boy beyond the school premises even if he was our neighbor, the cracks widened with time and more so as we entered our teens. 

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After we visited the bangle shop she used to remain careful while working in the kitchen to avoid collision with anything which may lead to the breakage of her precious glass ornaments.

The inimitable jingling noise from her armful of bangles while beating millet rotis or, when oiling my hair was melodious.

The tinkling sounds generated by the collision between gold and glass bangles always sounded an alert of her arrival. The one with the sharpest ears would sense it first and then throw a warning to the rest of us with his glances, it was always the older brother who led the pack. He was the vigilante all the time, making gestures to each of us to act as if were studying.

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The memory of her bangles is still vivid to me, especially the day when we got our year-end results or the day we fought in the colony with "so-called" friends. She used to call us three siblings and slap one after the other. 

This often resulted in the breakage of her bangles, and the sharp glass pieces would pierce her skin, causing her to bleed a little. She would then pause to remove the glass bits, and then continue with her fury.

That one minute of respite between the beatings was a godsend for us. We used to calculate in our mind,  

Is it going to end here?

Is the wound big? 

Does she need help?

Will she get distracted with the cut and spare us?

No, it never happened!

 She would start from wherever she left it and give us a nice thrashing for our blunders since the previous beating session. She had an excellent memory of our wrongdoings, she would settle all of it in a go, as she would get into a thrashing mode once in a while, to release the pent-up anger.

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Following the punishment session, my mother would prepare a modest dinner for the family, as a way of showing her disappointment towards our inappropriate behaviour and lack of dedication to our studies. We would all eat quietly and then return to our respective beds, feeling remorseful for our actions. 

The mother, weighed down by guilt, would often toss and turn in her bed, perhaps shedding a few silent tears. 

She would then call us to her bed, wrap her arms and legs around us, and drown us with her affection. It was like a dog licking her newborn pups with care, love, and conviction that only she could be their saviour.

In that moment, all of her rage and guilt would disappear, replaced by love that would lull us into a peaceful and happy sleep.

 The next morning, we returned to our usual uncivilized behaviour, as if the punishment had never happened. 

Finally, it was time to visit the bangles shop lane again.

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In the loving memory of my mother, I adorned my arms with the abandoned bangles from the remote corner of the dressing table drawer.

These bangles were gifted to me by the welcome team of Chidambaram Palace employees.

We are all fighting the same battle.

 We are all fighting the same battle, but in different roles and at different levels.

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The Maid fights against domestic abuse every day, which is sadly prevalent in every Basti of India.

The diplomat's wife feels like a bird in a golden cage for being forced to live in a foreign country with her husband. Rich women moving in big cars are not always enjoying that luxury. Behind the Dolce and Gabbana shades are not the happy eyes always.

The lower middle-class girl gets rejected by multiple suitors for her father's inability to give a motorbike in the dowry. Even the most useless BOY of any village in India will demand a bike in dowry.

Competent women are forced to chop their wings and made to stay at home for family honour. The most brilliant women are demeaned for the colour of their skin and the shape of their bodies.

Women from a certain segment are conditioned to go out of the house only if they oblige to cover themselves in a burqa. The lady is allowed to send her daughters to school in burqa till the men decide to get their daughters married to men of any age.

Wives of the richest homes get limited monthly allowance, they are always kept in the dark about family finances. They are usually the first victims of depression as everything around them is controlled.

Men decide what to cook and how much to eat in many homes, and the men save money for alcohol and other vices.

Women are beaten black and blue to appease other members of the family, the men in many homes use this technique to display their machismo.

In some homes, it is imperceptible torture, women are not treated as equals despite their academic background or are never made a part of the family dialogue to silently show them their place. In many parts of the country, women are sold in the market by the men of their homes to fulfil their appetites.

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These are daily struggles for most of us.

Women from all sections of society are opposing a different category of male dominance and patriarchy. From both ends of the spectrum, it is a laudable resistance.

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Rather than supporting each other, we tend to engage in gossip and criticism, which only serves to diminish and undermine one another. We often comment "She is rich, what problems can she have"

or she is a working woman, with total financial freedom"

"She is an officer's, politician's wife, all fun" or She has no responsibilities as she has a good mother in law"

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Being rich and staying at home does not make one feel any better than the one who is going out every day to make ends meet.

The one living in the AC rooms at the mercy of their husband's benevolence is equally pained as a mother working hard to pay her child's school fees.

Our struggles are identical but circumstances may be different.

Some space, respect and an acknowledgement of equality are all we are asking for.

Let us support every victim of discrimination and cheer them on in their battle for self-respect and equal rights.

We should all be together and accept that nobody's fight is less than another's. Do not demean fellow women if your struggles are not in sync with hers.

Stand in support and solidarity of people in your surroundings, be empathetic, listen to their stories and reassure them that they are not alone.

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We are all fighting the same battle, but in different roles and at different levels.