Forgotten song

 I feel an old familiar pain

As if snippets of a forgotten song remain

I feel a constant dull ache

That leaves me numb in it’s wake

I feel an emptiness surround me

Memories of what could’ve been hound me

I feel so much

And I feel nothing at all

NMJ

 When I first heard the term, NMJ, I thought it's a tribute band. New Michael Jackson. I was completely wrong about it. 

NMJ: Neuro muscular junction is a highly specialised synapse between a motor neuron nerve terminal and its muscle fiber that are responsible for converting electrical impulses generated by the motor neuron into electrical activity in the muscle fibers (frontiersin.org). 

With this definition, I scratched my brains to understand it in the context of Anthroposophy.  In one of her talks, Dr.Lakshmi, a Paediatrician, an Anthroposophical doctor, my mentor, had said, when we are feeling low, sad and we don't understand the reason why we are feeling the way we are. Then when we decide to change that state by doing an activity like, listening to a piece of music, a conversation with someone, a message exchange, a movie, and after that activity, we feel better. The reason we feel better is because there is a shift in NMJ, something has entered through that gap and made us feel better. 

The instances where I feel low, or anything that is demotivating, an activity like watching a show or listening to music, I let NMJ do it's magic. The magic that is created by the spiritual forces. Some may dismiss it as some sort of mumbo-jumbo but the truth is even modern neuroscientists have not been able to completely understand what goes on in that conversion of electrical impulse to electrical activity.

P.S. Through this post, NMJ's magic worked.  

     

A Johnsonian

 Imagine you are in the middle of an intense conversation about a relative who is not liked by your spouse. She walks away in her room when the relative is present in the house. Now, in such a conversation, the partner, instead of being empathetic and reasonable, points out an error in spelling or grammar, and makes an error herself, you say, she was being Johnsonian. 

That's an example of eponym, a word coined after another person. 

There are so many words in the English language which are coined after people who stand out, noble or not so noble. So I thought, let me look at my circle where I could meet these eponyms.

Bajaj: one who is known to disregard the poor

Usage: I am not a Bajaj, I am an egalitarian.

P.S. I think one eponym a day should be fine!

 

  

Anger!

 The following post is something I wrote in the diary yesterday.

He bangs the door, hits his hand against the wall, avoids looking in her direction and makes a face looking up. Finally, he storms out of the house. He walks at a fast pace, arms swinging like a pendulum fixed on both of his shoulder blades.

The skies are scarlet with hardly any clouds. There is a gale which is a pale imitation of his walk. His heart is pumping hard. Nothing seems to disrupt his determination to just walk.

P.S. This was written as an exercise to write a prose (100 words) without using the word, anger, or its synonyms anywhere.  

Sobriquets for one belief

 This is what I had written way back in 2007. Now what do I remember of that day when I wrote it, what day of the month, what date, what time, what I was doing. All these things are amiss from memory. However, the writing says it all. 

Khuda ke liye, bhagwan ke liye, in the name of Christ; several sobriquets for one belief. Very strange yet beautifully remarkable.

P.S. I am doing a blog catch-up, four more to go!

 

Musical morning

There was a calling, a musical one at that. I felt some drums, some tabla, some saxophone and bass guitar should be heard. 

Obviously, I didn't pick up any of these instruments and began to play. But I listened to some afro-beats. The assembly of sounds was incredible. It beat right within me. The pulsating melody increased my heart beat and I stopped it, realising, something mellow, something quiet was more the flavor of that calling. I switched to playing tabla. Between the dha-dhin and tirikats I was lost.

I felt centred and knew that's what my post will be today.  

mausiki ne rooh ko awaaz di

rooh ne suna aur kaha

kareeb aa kar apna jadoo dikhao

mausiki ne kaha

kho jao meri jadoogiri main

aur khud to bhool jao

     

A scribbled musing

 I found this musing written on the last page of a book I had carried along with me to London.

07th July, 2015

Primrose Hill, London

It's one of those days. Sun is skidding in and out of the clouds, the wind is singing a song  with the trees in chorus - swaying, swinging, dancing to the mellifluous music. It's like an orchestra. The notes are high, pitch is a sweet melancholy, and the aloofness is warm company.

P.S. it must have been some day and I must have been in some mood!