Mango tree, a symbol of love

“A beautiful, golden radiant princess, the daughter of Sun God landed on Earth. The King of the land instantly fell in love with her, and desired to marry her. However, a sorceress fell jealous of how King was enamoured by her, and turned her into ashes. From these ashes a huge tree with dark green leaves grew, which bore golden fruits taking to the radiance of the princess. As one of the fruits ripened and fell on Earth, it instantly turned back into the same Princess Surya Bai. The King recognised her, and they got married.”

This is how the legend of the origin of a mango tree, symbolizing  eternal love, is mentioned in ancient Sanskrit literature.

The tree is known to date back to 4000BC in India and the fruit it bore, has been known as the ‘fruit of Gods’.

There is another legend which says that :

Lord Shiva and his wife Parvati were gifted with a golden fruit by Narada, the son of Lord Brahma and with an instruction to be eaten by only one person. So they chose to give to one of their two sons, with a condition that whoever will take 3 rounds of the universe first will be rewarded with this fruit. Ganesh being a smart child took three rounds around his parents and reached back earlier than the other brother, Karthik, saying,  “My parents are my universe”.

Hence Ganesha got the fruit, owing to his unequivocal love for his parents.

Not just the fruit, the whole mango tree is revered in Hindu mythology.

Considered auspicious, its dark, big leaves are  used to adorn the house in festivals like Diwali and Pongal.

In the weddings too, as a symbol of love and fertility, the leaves are held in a row by a string and hung at the door to welcome the new bride into the house.

Auspicious mango leaves adorning the door.

As an evergreen mango tree starts to blossom with buds, it heralds the onset of spring, and hence called madhu duta( the messenger of spring) that invites love.

A sanksrit couplet says:
aṅkurite pallavite korakite vikasite ca sahakāre |
aṅkuritaḥ pallavitaḥ korakito vikasitaś ca madano ‘sau ||

As the mango flowers begin to swell, to put forth sprouts, to bud and finally to blossom,
Love too swelled, sprouted, budded and blossomed.

The dark green leaves, with fragrant buds and blossoms attract the swarms of humming bees and singing cuckoo birds. The relationship of Mango tree laden with blossoms and Cuckoo bird is that of a lover and the beloved.

The secret of Cuckoo’s melodious voice is associated with the sweet fragrance of mango blossoms and honey laden mango fruits. Perhaps owing to this, mango buds were known to be eaten by singers in old days to make their voice melodious.

Cuckoo on a  mango tree.

Kalidas in his poetry Seasons( Ritusamharam) describes the Spring (Vasanta) as:

” Intoxicated by the nectar of mango blossoms ,
The cuckoo kisses his mate happily in love,….”
“The lovely mango shoot is his choicest arrow,
the swarm of bees is his bow string,
……….
May the world-conquering Manmatha,
Accompanied by vasanta,
Grant you more and more joy.”

Amir Khusrau relates them as:

sakal ban phool rahi sarson
ambva phootey, tesu phule,
koel boley dar dar,
gori karat shingar

The mustard blooms in every field,
Mango buds snap open, the flower blooms,
The cuckoo sings from every branch,
The damsel adorns make-up.

Apart from Gods, even the Rajas, Maharajas, Mughal Emperors and Nawabs could not contain their love for Mangoes, and it is no secret. They were known to keep mango orchards, and took pride in showing off their orchards to the royal guests and spending time with their queens in the orchards when they trees were laden with fragrant blossoms.

Sending a baskets of select mangoes to friends and kins was considered a coveted gesture. Along with the sweetness and aroma, it carried the affection from its sender.

There are folk songs, passed on from generations, relating to Cuckoo bird as the beloved of mango tree:

A Hindi song from India:

Amuva ki dali bole: “Kaali koyaliya, aajaa balmuva hamaar, aja balamuva hamaar.
~The mango branch calls out: “Oh the black cuckoo, come my beloved, come my beloved.” 

Yet another one a Punjabi folk song from Pakistan:

Ambewaan de booteyan pe lag gaya bore nee, rut we milaapan waalin, chann mera door nee.
~There are blossoms on  mango tree, and the season of being together is there, but my friend is away. 

 

A  dussehri mango shaped like a heart, a gift of nature, grown on the mango tree in  Reena Satin`s garden.

 

P.S. A few more blogs to follow on mango and a some  interesting recipes using mango

Maaya

Ah! the cushioned embrace,
Of the satine fur.

Err! the writhing thrill,
Of the trembling purr.

Ouch! the naughty grab,
With dinky jaws.

Eww! that nasty scratch,
From dainty claws.

A feel so feline,
Oh! So divine.

Delhi Diary: Gossip on Wheels –2

Continued from the previous post….

Delhi roads, or for that matter roads on any metropolitan city in the world is so very stressfull. If only these vehicles did not share their light hearted smalltalks or gossiped or flirted on the way, they would be having high rates of ‘heart attacks’ like us humans.
Only if we too knew how to wade our ways through chaotic and bumpy roads of life with humour, life would seem much less of a burden.

Again open your ears, shush your mouths and hear them gossip and flirt and romance…..
Madame Maruti: Haaaye teri baat ne dil khush kar diya.

Truck ji: Chal Rani tera Rabb Raakhaa
Mme Maruti: Rani, haan who tou main hun. Thankyou for the dua, yaar.

Auto bhai: “Papa Jaldi Ghar aa Jaana.”
Maruti behn: Bhai, ghar mein bachey wait kar rahe hain, zara safely
chalao.

Another auto bhai: “Mera Bharat Pareshan[My India is Troubled].”
Maruti : Tere jaise careless auto se pareshaan nahi hoga tou kya hoga…India.

Maruti, the advisor: Yar tou kaali ko bhool ja, kamai kar buss…

Romeo Truck: “Kaho na pyaar hai”
Laila Maruti: Kyun, ek baar bol diya na, bar baar kyun boloon, huhh.

Maruti( sharma ke): Awaein, mere kol koi hor kum ni haega..

Truck Dada: “Road King”
Maruti: Tabhi tou itna chaura ho ke chalta hai, sarak pe.

Lalchi Maruti: Hain, to kya ye sara maal vi mera. Haaye meri kismat.

Truck in denial: “Gori fir se hui jawan”
Maruti: Kya bola? Zara apne aap ko sheshey mein tou dekh.

Creepy Truck: Tou hi meri dulhan, tou hi mera dahej
Maruti: Yar mat tang ker, us bichari nai Maruti ko.

Truck ji: Bus peecha karoge, ya kabhi dil mein bhi baithogey
Maruti: Arre, peecha kaun kar raha hai, awein hero mat ban.

Truch ji: Dekho, dekho,dekho,magar pyaar se
Maruti: Yahan marne ki fursat nahin hai, tum pya se dekhne ki baat karte ho.

Maruti: Haan, haan woh to nazar aa raha hai.

JattTruck: Jatt Di Mercedez
Maruti, the sophisticated: To tum bhi koi Jutt se kam nahin ho bhai.

Truck the philospher: Hun Tu Kaun te Main Kaun
Maruti the sufi: O truckeya, tu ki jana main kaun…

Maruti: Hahaha kya baat hai…:D

Haseen Lorry: “Kashmir Ki Kali”
Maruti( jealous): Chal chal zyada ghuroor mat ker apne ooper.

Badtameez Tanker: Zarra Hatt ke Laadli
Maruti( ghussey se): Oye tameez se baat ker…

Filmi Truck: “दुल्हन वही जो पिया मन भाये,
गाड़ी वही जो नोट कमाए”
Dulhan wohi jo piya man bhaye
Gaari wohi jo note kamaye.
Maruti, the feminist: Yaar, aajkal to dulhan bhi note kamaye…

Pendu Truck: Himmat hai to pass ker, warna burdass kar.
Shehri Maruti: Lagta hai gaon se naye naye aaye ho, Dilli shehr mein.

When we part, we get emotional :’( :
Maruti: Chal TATA. Kabhi Salam bho ker liya ker…

Jazbati Truck: Milega Mukaddar , Pher milangey
Maruti, (equally emo): Haan kismet hui tou zaroor milenge isi road pe, ek na ek din.

Devdaas Truck: Chalo ek Baar Phir se Ajnabi ban JaayeN
Paro Maruti: *sob sob, sniff sniff* Haan chalo, Khuda Hafiz.

And this is how they meet each day, with gossipping, joking, flirting on the roads and making their way through packed roads. Their spirit and zest to survive is touching.

Maruti remarked: Yess we give space on the roads to these beings too, . Do you Humans do the same with animals?

Maruti taunted: Dont you think there are Supermen amongst you only. We have them too.

Maruti( with proud): We have Superwomen too.

Maruti: See we are considerate for our poor too. And we give them way.

Maruti: We believe in UNITY IN DIVERSITY.

Maruti, the thinker: And we believe in PEACEFUL COEXISTENCE .

Indeed, one thing remarkable about the traffic community is their ‘unity in diversity’. How they coexist with some noisy peace and give way to each other with no vengeance, is worth commending.

We humans need to learn some real ‘good’ lessons from these vehicles.

Delhi Diary: Gossip on Wheels–Part 1

Commuting through the streets of Delhi with almost an hour and a half’s drive each side was no less than a Herculean task. The journey back home, in the evening, would result in a bursting headache.

The megacity with hundreds of newly built flyovers and underpasses, still gets choked in its veins at the peak office hours. The traffic is dense, diverse and chaotic. Perhaps when going through licence training they are made to practice to honk horns as much as possible, sworn not to use the dipper and taken pledge not to follow lanes. In fact the dividing lines whether broken white or solid yellow are to be kept exactly in the middle of one’s vehicle—be it a cycle, a cycle rickshaw, auto rickshaw , a car, truck or a tanker.

I felt the dire necessity to have the cake ( wading the traffic all the way each day) and relish it too( enjoy their antics without getting headache).

So I began to hallucinate…

….and began to see and hear all the secret conversations and the relationships the my car had with the traffic around it. I was enlightened now as to why they dive and dodge across the lines ( just like a five year old kid) when another vehicle tries to overtake or chase them. And no wonder why they honk horns so much—in disgust ( just like us humans) when they see injustice .

Oh ! they are all so much like us humans- chaotic and noisy. And like us they gossip, flirt and swear too at each other, on the way.

Only the wise could see that, and I happen to be one of those few. 
I began keeping my eyes and ears open to what was going on between my car and the other fellow vehicles…..

And from then on travelling was fun—after all I am as human as them. and I too love to eavesdrop on what Madame Maruti ( my car) would babble and flirt with fellow trucks and autos along the way.

So from here on just shhh…and listen to what Madame Maruti gossips…

Mme Maruti: “Yeah , I know we’ve got to honk the horn for ‘Road Symphony’, but what’s this OK doing in the middle.”

Truck Ji :“Use horn ok please dipper”
Mme Maruti: Hold on, What did you say? Pagla gae ho ?

Mme Maruti: “Kyon? Kya landan se aae ho? Yahan koi dipper wipper nahi janta”.
( Have you come from London, no one knows dipper here).

Mme Maruti: “Yeah only if you had listened to your Mum and been to school, you would know how to say Hallo.”

Mr Truck: “Wait for side.”
Mme Maruti: I’m waiting. But kab takk? ( How long)

We have some of wicked amongst us, just like humans, who can’t wish well for others….
Idealist Maruti: Since when did you become racist, man. Ain’t humans enough?

Burger Truck: “Bad nazar wale tera thobda black.”
Desi Maruti: Lagta hai dost, angrezi filmein zyada dekhne lage ho ?

Dukhi Truck: “चलती है गाड़ी, उड़ती है धूल, जलतें हैं दुश्मन, बिखरतें हैं फूल.”
Chalti hai gari urti hai dhool, jalte hain dushman bikharte hain phool
Maruti, the reformer: Yaar, kabhi kisi ka bhala bhi soch liya karou.( Think of good also sometimes).

Foul mouthed Truck:“बुरी नज़र वाले, तेरे बच्चे जियें, बड़े होकर, देसी शराब पियें”
( Buri nazar wale tere bachey jiyein, Bade ho kar desi sharab piyein).
Maruti, the preacher: O’ bhai, uski to nazar buri hai, per tumhari to soch insaanon ki tarah gandi hai. Uske bachon ney tumhara kya bigada hai?

Mean Truck: बुरी नज़र वाले तू जिए, और तेरा बेटा बड़ा होकर तेरा खून पिए! ( Buri nazar wale tere bachey jiyen, bade ho kar tera khoon piyen).
Maruti, the Gandhian: Arre bhai, kya tum bhi insaan ban gaye jo khoon peene ki baat kar rahe ho ?

Some of us are really kind and thoughtful too:
Maruti: Wah, yeh ki na tum ne sau aane wali baat.

Saint Truck: Na koi buri nazar
Na kisi ka muh kala,
Sab ka bhala chahta hai
barah tiresath (12-63)wala!
Maruti:Kaash, hamre baqi bhai log bhi aisa hi sochein? Aur insaan bhi

Maruti: Sach keh rahe ho, magar ye insaan ki samajh mein aye to baat hai.

</
Maruti: Wah bilkul theek kaha tum ne.

Our social responsibility, we understand so well. I wish all mankind could think like us too:
Maruti, the samajhdar: Agar insaan ki ye samajh mein aa jae to is duniya ki mushkil hi khatm ho jae.

Maruti, the patriot: Is mehengai ke daur mein, bilkul theek.

Mr Truck: “Ek ya do buss.”
Mme Maruti: “Kya shaadi ya bacheyy?”

Mr Truck:बीवी रहे टिपटॉप
दो के बाद फुल स्टॉप
(Biwi rahe teep taap
Do ke baad fullstap)
Mme Maruti: “Khayal umdah hai, feminist lagtey ho !”

Truck, the Anna Hazare: Sau mein nabbey beimaan, phir bhi mera desh mahaan.
Maruti, the Sonia: Han haan, buss tum hi to ek imaandar ho poore desh mein.

Mr Truck, the poet: शेर दो हों मगर सलीके के,
घर को ऐसी ग़ज़ल बनाना है
(Sher do hon magar saleeqe ke
Ghar ko aisi ghazal bana hai).
Mme Maruti: “Uff, ye ‘sher’ aur ‘ghazal’ se tou Ghalib ki
yaad taza ho gai.”

Truck, the poet: “Malik ki gadi, driver ka pasina, chalti hai road par, banke hassina”
Maruti: Haaye, kya Shayar ban gaya…

Truck Sahab, the wannabe poet: “Fool se kante ache hai jo daman tham lete hain, dost se dushman ache hain jo jal kar bhi naam lete hain”
Maruti, the judgemental: Haaye teri Urdu se tou Hazrat Ghalib pareshan ho jayeinge.

Maruti: “What should I say, you said it all?”

PS: Some less serious gossip in the next blog.

Mom

When it was time to leave the baby asked,  “Tell me God, why are you sending me to Eartt?  How am I going to live there, so small and helpless?”

God : “I have assigned you an angel on Earth that is eagerly waiting for you to hold you and care for you.”

Baby, anxious: “It’s so Heavenly here, there are no worries. I just smile, sing and play.”

God, “Yes it isn’t Heaven down there, but the angel’s lap will be a small heaven I’ve ensured for you. The angel will always wear a smile looking at you, will sing you lullabys and will even play with you.”

Baby:  “How will I be able to live in that mad world?

God: “Your angel will blow into you the most beautiful feeling called love that will give you strength, and with much patience and care, will teach you how to live.”

Baby: “Will that angel protect me from the shrewd world?”

God said, “Your angel will never leave you in risk, will defend you even if it means risking it’s own life, even if you tell the angel, you need it no more.”

Baby: “But God, I will miss you?”

God : “Just look into the angel’s  eyes and you will find me there. Just beneath its feet, you will feel the same pleasure as that in Heaven.”

Baby: “No God, if I miss you a lot, promise you will call me back.”

God:  “Don’t ever say that. The angel  will bring you closer to me, in its care, you will thank me for having sent you there.”

God ( again): “Dear baby, delay no more, the angel is in great pain, waiting to have you”.

Baby (rushes, then turns back): “God, but please tell me, how will I know who’s my Angel?”

God: “You simply call her Mom.”

There’s nothing like the first hug,  a Mama hug.

There no word called ‘insomnia’ in the world within a Mom’s arms.

There’s nothing more warmer than a Mom’s touch, and nothing more touching than Mom’s love.

The first sense that a baby learns to identify his Mom is her smell.

The first language in which  a baby talks to his Mom is through smile.

Even the toughest of Mom’s have gentlest of hearts.

Whether from her breast or  her throat, she will do whatever it takes to feed her kids.

Kids are born with wings, Mom teaches them to fly.

A Mom teaches her babies how to swim against the rough tides.

Some more about Moms:

Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.
~Stevie Wonder

The mother’s heart is the child’s schoolroom.
~Henry Ward Beecher

A good mother is worth hundreds of schoolmasters.
~George Herbert

The post is dedicated to  Moms, one and all,  of  the world who begin as the first teachers, and then never cease to be one, all their life.

Sometimes a Hug is All that We Need

It was several years or perhaps over a decade ago when I had cut out this cartoon from the daily newspaper and stuck on my fridge with a magnet.

Having lived in an Arab land where hugging is a usual form of greeting, I had learned how good it felt after having hugged a dear one.

Like all Moms, I too frequently made it a point to  bear hugg  my growing kids. Whenever the little ones  felt any trouble or insecurity they would run to be hugged tightly. If at times I was busy and did it lightly, they would demand-

” Ammi do it nicely.”

Then came an Indian movie with the much popular caption

” Jadoo ki jhappi”

--~the magic hug,  which claimed to do wonders.  Inspired by it, we actually put this Jaddo ki jhappi to practice, at our home.

Whether it was the daughter getting nervous for her exam or the son feeling hurt after a fall or a sib finding hard to cope with a financial loss or Mom missing my deceased Dad or a friend nervous for her husband’s illhealth or even the  kids’ nanny, sobbing  after she recieved some bad news from the kin back home–a tight bear hug would comfort not just them, but me too.

A wholesome hug cannot really change the circumstances, but it gives strength to bear the loss with a feeling that they are not alone in their suffering. Medically speaking, the act releases endorphins, the feel good hormones, into the body.

Later, I saw on  net a report on the raised rates of suicide among South Korean students owing to stress of competition in educational institutions. And then came the news that a simple campaign of giving free hugs to the passersby while standing at a street crossing decreased the suicide rate significantly in South Korea youngsters.

Further digging into the details led me to the wonderful international campaign called Free Hugs Campaign,  as a random act of kindness. My thrill for having practiced it myself without being aware of its existence,  had no bounds.

Giving a tight bear hug says aloud that we care.

Culturally many of us may not be in a position to accept being hugged at a street crossing, but we can certainly do this to our kids, our parents, our sibs and those friends who are informal enough to be hugged.

We need not be told to hug one’s kids. We do that amply and with full enthusiasm. Perhaps hugging our ageing parents needs to be reminded. However, it  is one of the most fulfilling expereinces one can experience.

I remember, for years,  having hugged my mom only occasionally and just ritually if at all. But with Dad being a very expressive person and I being his favourite child,  he never either received or parted without a wholesome hug.  After he was no more, what I missed the most was his hugs.

Then one day,  I decided  to repeat the same, with my Mom too. The first time I gave a real tight bear hug to my Mom, I could see her eyes twinkled with tears and she actually blushed. But the vigor she gained after the hug was strikingly noticable.

Each time she is around I make sure to hug her for a reason or for no reason. It embarrasses her at times and tells me to “grow up”. But I know she loves it. And the tight embrace, not just helps her feel good, but also lets me feel how thin and frail she is getting with the passing time. We may not realise that visually, or our parents may not be complaining of getting older and weaker, but the tactile sensation certainly does all the talking.

The survival of preterm babies are known to be having a better survival if the mother or the father or even a grandmother hugs the baby, on their chest as much as possible during the first month of life–called as Kangaroo care.

Similiarly I saw  in Delhi, Sanjivini, a well-known center that offers help to troubled minds, have a day clinic for schizophrenics where “caring” (involving touch and holding) is routinely used as a therapy. “But it is done in a parent-child matrix,” clarified the in-charge of Sanjivini, adding that only women volunteers handle female patients and men handle male patients.” In Sanjivni they have statistically seen that, the practice has reduced the relapse in  schizophrenics.

Scientific studies have shown that hugs have been seen to reduce heart rates, improve overall moods, lower blood pressure, increase nerve activity, and a host of other beneficial effects.

We need 4 hugs a day for survival. We need 8 hugs a day for maintenance. We need 12 hugs a day for growth, claims Virginia Satir, a family therapist

“Hugging is a way of connecting with others, of showing your genuine affection and appreciation, of valuing others, and of giving. All of these are positive, healthy, life-enhancing purposes”,  remarks Kevin Eikenberry,  author of Vantagepoints on Learning and Life.

I suggest give it a try to your loved ones. Sometimes, a hug is all what they  need.

IlmanaFasih

FREE HUGS is a real life story of Juan Mann, a man whose mission was to reach out and hug strangers to brighten up their lives. In this age of social disconnectivity and lack of human contact, the effects of the Free Hugs Campaign became phenomenal and spread world wide.

Pornography vs. Picasso

If this Junk Food was Pornography

Then this Healthy Food is Picasso.

Some crackers for the 12 year old within us:

#Most vegetables are something God invented to let women get even with their children. A fruit is a vegetable with looks and money. Plus, if you let fruit rot, it turns into wine, something brussels sprouts never do.

#Apple and pear, aren’t just fruits. They are body types too. Hey, I’ve got some advice. If you look like an apple or a pear, eat an apple or a pear! Dr Phil

#My Hubby says: I’m not saying my wife’s a bad cook, but she uses a smoke alarm as a timer.
I say: Heyy, am such a great cook that even the smoke alarm cheers for it !

Some real food for thought:

The only way to keep your health is to eat what you don’t want, drink what you don’t like, and do what you’d rather not.
~ Mark Twain

Blog Inspiration Quote:
We think fast food is equivalent to pornography, nutritionally speaking.
~Steve Elbert

Nasim e Farvardin