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Showing posts from October, 2021

Listening to Bill Bryson

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Bill Bryson — wit, language, and quiet humour Here is something that some of you may enjoy — listening to Bill Bryson. An American-born author, Bryson has written across a wide range of subjects, from the English language and science to travel and general non-fiction. Though born in the United States, he moved to Britain in his twenties and eventually settled there. If you enjoy the English language, his speaking style itself is a pleasure. It carries an interesting blend — the base notes of an American accent, shaped by his upbringing, layered with the cadence and tone of British English. Even in simple words like “fast,” one can hear the American inflection, while the overall delivery remains distinctly British, including his understated humour. Some have compared him to P. G. Wodehouse , though their styles differ. Wodehouse’s humour often leaned on irony, absurdity, and playful exaggeration — phrases like “Jeeves’ superhuman equanimity” come to mind. Bryson, on the other hand, is m...
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Abdulrazak Gurnah — A Voice Across Worlds

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Abdulrazak Gurnah — telling stories across continents With the selection of Abdulrazak Gurnah , he becomes one of the very few Black writers to have received the Nobel Prize in Literature. Looking at past recipients, this award stands out for the way it recognises a body of work that brings sustained attention to a deeply human concern — the experience of refugees, and the lingering effects of colonialism. Much of Gurnah’s writing is shaped by these themes, exploring displacement, identity, and the emotional distance between cultures and continents. As is well known, unlike awards such as the Booker Prize, the Nobel Prize in Literature is not given for a single work. It recognises an author’s entire body of work — the depth, consistency, and impact of their writing over time. When the literature prize was first instituted, it was meant to honour those who had “conferred the greatest benefit on mankind.” Seen in that light, Gurnah’s recognition feels appropriate. Through his writing,...
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Mahalaya and the Voice That Wakes Bengal

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Birendra Krishna Bhadra’s voice in “Mahishasura Mardini” has awakened Bengal at dawn on Mahalaya for generations A little bit of history, culture, and a radio programme. Today is a very special day for Bengalis the world over. It is Mahalaya , the day that marks the beginning of the Durga Puja festivities, with an invocation to Goddess Durga to descend upon Earth. What makes the day even more special is that every year on this day, at 4 am sharp, practically every Bengali household tuned in to AIR for the Mahishasura Mardini programme. My Bengali friends still remember waking up early on this day, sleepy-eyed, all gathered around the radio. The programme was first aired in 1932, and until 1966 it was broadcast live. The iconic voice was that of Birendra Krishna Bhadra. Birendra babu would bathe in the Ganges at Babughat, just a short walk from Akashvani Bhavan, before coming to perform the programme. Such was his dedication, and it shows in his rendition. Year after year he did it....
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A Song, A Voice, A Moment

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A moment where voice and expression become one Here is a really beautiful song to start your day. It is from the 1982 film 'Vijeta' by Govind Nihilani. Asha Bhonsle has done full justice to this pure classical song. Rekha is in perfect synchronization with the singing, an indication she may be a trained singer herself or at least learnt singing the song from Ashaji or the music director, Ajit Varman. The overall impact is sublime. While on this point, we know actors go to great lengths to achieve perfection in every act of theirs and try to do full justice to the demands of their role. The method actor that Dilip Kumar was, he actually learnt playing the sitar for the song, 'Madhuban mein Radhika nache re'. [02/10/2021, 07:59] Raj Mahimkar: https://youtu.be/kPc_dyJbs1U
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Weekend Musings: What One Life Taught Me About Peace

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  Remembering Albert Schweitzer For reasons I cannot fully explain, Albert Schweitzer came back to me recently. My first encounter with him was in childhood, when I was barely ten or twelve. I remember a book — blue in colour — far beyond my reading ability at that age. I remember his photograph inside. I remember that it spoke of peace and of service to humanity. I understood neither in any meaningful way, yet something stayed. Perhaps children recognise sincerity before they understand ideas. Life moved on. Over five decades, his name would surface now and then — in passing references, in conversations, in lists of Nobel Peace Prize winners — but I never found the time, or perhaps the inner readiness, to go deeper. And yet, the impression never faded. Today, that unfinished encounter seems to ask for closure. Albert Schweitzer was many things: theologian, philosopher, musician, doctor. But what sets him apart is not achievement; it is choice. At a time when intellectual recognit...
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Weekend Musings: The Female Gaze

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The Enigmatic Look Women Give One Another I have often wondered what women think when they look at one another. It is usually a silent assessment—nothing said aloud—only a quick scanning with the eyes, absorbing little details. That look is intriguing, and I have never quite understood what goes on in their minds in those brief moments. The other day, at the all-ladies branch of my bank, a woman was standing in front of me—businesslike, with two thick pay-in slip books, sorting out some issue with her account. At the next counter, another woman kept watching her intently. I assumed she was connected to the matter, but the nature of her gaze was different. It even made the customer conscious; she suddenly behaved more “official,” as if putting on an armour. The atmosphere felt slightly uncomfortable. And then, almost casually, the woman at the counter remarked on the customer’s earrings—fish-shaped, unique, and beautiful. That broke the tension immediately. But it left me even more puzz...
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Weekend Musings: The Leap of the Frog — A Moment in Haiku

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 An old silent pond— a frog jumps into the pond, splash! Silence again. This weekend’s Musings arose from an invitation to reflect on these lines by Matsuo Bashō. What began as an invitation soon turned into a gentle challenge, as it became clear that the poem invites many ways of seeing. It can even invite silence, as we honour the stillness of the pond. The image is simple, almost bare. A still pond. A sudden leap. A brief splash. And then silence again. Nothing is explained, nothing is concluded. What is offered is a moment, complete in itself. Yet, being a Musing, I must still arrive at my own reading. In these lines, Bashō draws us into a world where there is no past or future — both constructs of the mind, or the ego. He lives entirely moment to moment, in full awareness of it. The past becomes nothing more than memory, a storehouse of conditioning, biases, and habits. The future is merely the drama projected from that past. In such a state of awareness, action is no longer ...
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Weekend Story: When Meaning Outweighs Medals

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Yusra and Sarah Mardini — swimmers, sisters, survivors From the Aegean Night to the Olympic Light There are stories that win medals, and there are stories that win something far rarer — our quiet admiration for what human beings can rise to when life strips them to the barest essentials. The story of Yusra and Sarah Mardini — two young sisters from Syria — belongs to the second kind. Long before the world knew their names, they were just teenagers in Damascus, daughters, students, swimmers. Then the war came, as wars always do — without warning, without reason, without mercy. When they fled their shattered city in 2015, they carried almost nothing except a skill they had learned in childhood: the ability to stay afloat. They were not fleeing a camp. They were fleeing a collapsing homeland. The sisters first escaped from Damascus to Lebanon, and from there made their way to Turkey — the staging point for many refugees trying to reach Europe. From Turkey, they boarded an overcrowded rubb...
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Weekend Musings: The Harmony of Body, Mind, and Air

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She fell twice, the third time made history. A move so dangerous even the World's trapeze artists rarely attempt it: Anna Gosudareva. The more I saw this video, with the caption above, the more I felt that there is something much more to it than a successful attempt after two failed ones. The young acrobat, Anna Gosudareva, has achieved something extraordinary and rarely performed — a quadruple somersault on a Russian bar. The video actually led me to read more, and the more I learned, the more I realised how exceptional this feat is — a genuine peak of human capability, combining strength, timing, mind control, trust, and fearlessness. A Russian bar is a long, slightly flexible pole held on the shoulders of two base performers. The flyer stands on this bar and uses it like a launchpad. When Anna attempts her somersaults, three bodies — hers and the two bases — must move with perfect synchrony. A tiny mistiming of a fraction of a second can send her off-axis. Even a slight tremor ...
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