When you have a sunny day like today you do not need edits or filters. Apart from the Keukenhof gardens, the fields in Lisse are where you can observe Netherlands’ horticulture in all its glory. Fed on the romantic images of Silsila somehow these fields manage to inspire me year after year. There is something magical when the colors of nature are planted with human precision. I say human because if you look closely there are some rebels, a few red heads in a field of white. Maybe these are planned but these outliers make me feel that things will be okay in their own sweet way. In the meantime I can let this carpet carry me away to a whole new world…
Aged five, an early memory, Rakesh Sharma travelling in space
Mrs. Gandhi, he said, India appears best in the world, unravelling in space
When I go back home, the Mango tree has shrunk
The courtyard looks smaller, what is this diminishing space
My sister pretty like a flower, a gentle soul
She ended her relationship, she is carving her own space
A box is a handy object to put things in
Nick Sousanis says that a door is a barrier or an opening for space
When you step out and away
There is a tendency for romanticising the space
In the Metro, each morning, they push and shove
All these people, getting to somewhere, jostling for space
We are giving away our things, my boyfriend announces
Apparently, I am making space
Tall buildings tend to shroud small shacks
In a big city, they tell me, it is about monetising the space
Are you missing having your own spot, fear not
In Amsterdam, we have Spaces, for those wanting some space
It was not so easy for Kalpana Chawla
A light, she remains, for all of us brown girls claiming some space
On Twitter everyday the mobs outrage about something
140 characters did give the masses a liberating space
The talk in workplaces is about diversity
You can banter all you want but are you creating space
I care little about sand that slides
Those who are rocks, fundamentally stay, holding me in place
So, what are you up to these days Das?
Amongst other things updating my blogging space
We had an outstanding lunch at Jinso in Arena Boulevard. We have eaten at Jinso before (and keep passing it when we have an errand to run at Villa Arena or a movie to watch at Pathe) and I always forget to note down (for the blog) how good the food is, how pleasant the atmosphere is, and how friendly the staff are. But, today, here and now I am making it a point to write the fact that this place is really good.
For those of you curious to know the specs: it is very spacious for Amsterdam standards and has natural light flowing through its interiors. It gives the feeling of sitting in a conservatory. Similar to Kokusai in shape but, with much more natural light and better service.
A lunch main course for three people, and four drinks cost us – 47 euros. Admittedly, not cheap but for a special meal on the Easter weekend, why not, a bit of indulgence once in awhile is good for them old bones! Be forewarned they have generous portion sizes.
This is a post about an article written by Apoorva Mathur that throws light on work place cultural nuances along with disparity between the Dutch and Indians.
I enjoyed the manner in which he places emotions alongside tasks and relationships, without dealing with them as the “other” or the “elephant in the room” or something that is irrelevant, inconsequential, and trivial even.
As an aside: I wholeheartedly accept the blame for “flowery” language use. Mea Culpa!
IMAGE: Sunrise as seen from outside Amstel Park. Picture: Apoorva Mathur
Guest post by PRAVEEN VERMA Dangal literally means the Indian style wrestling competition for male pahalwans (wrestlers). Dangal has been an important form of entertainment for ages, especially in …
Source: Dangal and the Phogat Sisters – A Tale of Many Struggles: Praveen Verma <—click link for the Kafila article.
Some species can crack pavement with their shoots
Source: The Miscarriage
“if I consoled you it would make the loss
How can Amit Majmudar’s words so relentlessly tangle the insides? Each line comes loaded, “his wealth of heartbeats.”
I am currently reading his collection Dothead (2016). It has two ghazals. One of which is a “Sonzal” (to employ a term created by Majmudar). It is the combination of a sonnet and a ghazal (akin to the manner in which Sharon Dolin plays with the two forms in her sonnet/ghazal – in Burn and Dodge (2008)). His ghazals “Tastebud Sonzal” and “Pandemic Ghazal” are devastatingly beautiful. They present a unique dance between the mind and the body, forms of different types, physical as well as metaphorical, enclosed within this precarious mortality. It is intriguing that a man of science such as Majmudar oscillates so effortlessly between medical pragmatism and abstract philosophy.
Is this the way ahead for hyphenated poets – these breathtaking offshoots of clarity and creativity? Sometimes I wish there was a simple answer to this question, but often I avoid making a merit out of simplicity and embrace this amalgamation of forces.