Date a girl who reads.....

“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

This post is by Rosemarie Urquico

Compassion {Karuna} more essential than Love {Prem}

A beautiful example of the difference between love and compassion can be seen in the relationship of parents and their daughter who is wanting to marry a guy they dont quiet approve because of financial status and position. So they set boundaries and proclaim their love by giving it names of wealth, security, stability, future etc. Making it difficult for the girl to rebel, walk out or leave. Thats love for you when you put some one at a cross road where decisions involve a lot of risk and emotional turbulence, resulting to leave one with a choice /option scenario. Love is selfish, expecting, possessive, jealous, conditional, transactional, anger, insecure, impermanent. It is like this candle in the dark hours which is lit up for a need satiating phenomenon. A feeling tha comes to fore when needed or is kept under warps till them. Whereas if compassion was the basis of the relationship then it would be a different ball game as it would lend the situation flexibility, adaptability and sharing in the emotional roller coaster ride....feeling not just through an external and superficial layer but an emotion deep inside which brings about a change in perspectives, a shift , an awakening an enlightenment.

PROJECT SANTA

Hey mortal muggles,

I am trying to usurp Santa’s job from him and he surely has tough competition ;) Reason being, I like the colour of his suit[oh my my!!!! the red surely tickles a lot of senses] and the sustainable mode of commute [sledge and reindeers] is definitely a big high.

So what`s the strategy? Well, I cant do it without volunteers and supporters and friends [so got to make my Vote Appeal as well..] here it goes:

1. Please write down 3 targets for the coming year – 2011 [what is it that u would like/wish to achieve in, like, desires..blah blah ] Things you really really want. This is a spiritual/humanistic Santa [diplomatic words for being selfish and humble santa ] so don’t ask for the Materialistic gibberish. It can also be something you would like to change in yourself or another person as well.
2. Chalk out a road map to achieve those three targets. Come on guys, santa can drive you to the destination but the route is something you got to take na?[chauffeur driven Bentley with a red santa as a driver…ooooohhh lalalala…you guys sure are extremely lucky!!!! ]. So decided your goalposts/enroute stations in terms of months/weeks/bimonthly/quarterly/half yearly..whatevere.
3. Send [shalvi.agarvwal@gmail.com] the targets to me [3 only]…Why? you need to coz incase you forgot, I am the Santa here. [Big Grin ] Mail it to me before Christmas or else the sale will end…early bird discounts granted but with applicable conditions [sorry, this santa lives in gujju land]. You cant possible expect the Satan to play Santa all year round!..Gosh its so so boring being the nice giving Shalvi..Phew!!

Pointers: You might initially have just one or two targets ..but greed is overpowering and you would not realize that when u sit and reflect, the list just is endless. So you need to be generous and allow other people some things as well and sift the husk from the wheat to bring it down to three…wow this is a rhyming santa too…one more brownie point added to my list of attributes. Hip Hip Hurray!!!

And yes, this Santa is surely strict with confidentiality, so it will be adhered too.

Cheers

Shalvi Agarvwal

shalvi.agarvwal@gmail.com

PS: This is an experimental Project that i have undertaken and would request your support, association and help to complete the same. Please be as honest as possible.

Textbooks- Friends or Traitors to learning

Textbooks – The ultimate information guide, which can NEVER go wrong. It provides us with data that is statistically correct, important, accurate and would help us become more intelligent and brainy. They are the measure of what we can grasp at a particular age level and become bulkier in looks as we jump standards in a school.

But then why is it that I don’t remember anything that I studied in my math’s, history, geography or science class?? Why is it that I recollect more of Bhagat Singh details as seen and enacted by Ajay Devgan and not what my teacher asked me, to know of, in class 8??

I absolutely detested my textbooks and could even trade them off for an itsy-bitsy Toffee, if permitted. They were my enemies and it was unto them, that the responsibility of my childhood day miseries lay.

Unfortunately, every child has to endure this misery and fight with the devil. Patience and tolerance are virtues, which become instilled, thanks to the Textbooks. Mind you, here I am specifically referring to the passively written textbooks and not the ones, which involved my participation.

Then why is it that textbooks, if they don’t solve the purpose meant, become so very crucial to learning! Are they blessings in disguise or are they burdens to growth?

I personally would love textbooks if they were written conversationally. If they talk more on people and not just facts. If they made me learn more than making me memorize more.

Their importance in terms of reference or guides or aids cannot be negated but then measuring learning on facts and numbers is not really a true criteria. One should be able to put to use the learning acquired, it should not be just for getting grades or ranks or certificates. Would these certificates or merits actually testify how intelligent or smart or capable a person is??

Learning should be more active and practical than passive and textbook oriented Grandma stories have a better impact me than a teacher’s rumbling. Concepts and equations are better learnt if understood and not just memorized and repeated. The basis of education is knowledge, which can be utilized and not just knowledge for storage.

The usage and importance of textbook learning is restricted to certain domains and cant permeate influential minds if not actively taught.

As they say, in school you are taught and then tested but life tests and thus teaches.

My Print Digressions

I know this image reminds you of the phrase “blowing your trumpet”. But who would blow it if not me??? Afterall it’s my trumpet, my mouth, my energies to use and my blog as well.

On a serious note, seeing your name in print is an exhilarating sensation that cant be described in words or framed in sentences. Wanted to just feel the sensation every time I see my blog too. Actually the book is a bit heavy to hold and see always. Internet is a much quicker and easier way…:) lazy me......:(

Tattered Hearts

Here's a small story I believe in completely. Do read, will open a lot of your senses.

One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen.


The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart. Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, "Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine."

The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing. The people stared -- how can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought? The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed.

"You must be joking," he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears."

"Yes," said the old man, "Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared. "Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a chance.

Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?" The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart.

It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.

Meet your pathshala…- Rang De Basanti (Colour Me Yellow).

I normally don’t go and watch or look forward to movies which have too much hulla-bulla about them. Makes me kind of irritated and pisses me off. After all, it just a movie man. Big Deal!!!. Just because you have a big star cast, have spent loads of money and done excellent research, does not qualify your movie to be worth 3 hours of my precious time and Rs.100. But I kind of wanted to still watch RDB coz I had in the past enjoyed the sensibility that is portrayed in the movies of Rakesh Mehra. Aks was a well captured movie with amazing performances by The Big B (or rather the Tall and over-hyped B), Manoj Bajpai and Nandita Das.

I am a movie buff and like watching movies on the big screen and RDB got some really crisp reviews. I wanted to see it. But office and other social commitments kept me so busy that I did not have 30 minutes to spare, forget about 3 hours. I kept on scheduling dates, time and people to go and watch it but could not. Finally, a dear friend (who was returning from London) wanted to watch it and we decided to go together. Watching a movie with him is a dream, come true. But all things planned in my life never happen at all. So could not watch the movie with him.

Then came an interesting Sunday, the mention of it makes you feel lethargic, dull, sluggish, stretchy and languid. And when you get these luxurious Sundays after a week of office work, it is all the more priceless. You just feel like sleeping, eating, drinking and watching the idiot box. I love these Sundays of mine and treasure it completely. But then a surprise factor, RDB and first outing with office colleagues helped me barter for a different and action-packed Sunday.

We decided to give a surprise movie party to an office colleague for her farewell. It was planned that one, from the four of us, would get her to the theatre and the rest would join in. And lo!!! The happy, excited, shocked, gleeful look on her face made the movie and March 19, 2006 all the more special for us.

It was quiet an eventful day too. Had gone to that particular mall for the first time (Its called 10 Acres), got a call from someone unexpected, got a fundoo job prospect and then the movie happened!! It has something that has never ever took place within me. The movie was an eye opener in all aspects and made me feel a stronger person inside. It put to ease the struggle that was going in me since a few days. There were and still are a lot of questions that need to be answered within, yet the quest for the answers or possible solutions has been more patient and less tremulous. Just as the milk boils and is ready to overflow, but goes down the minute you switch off the gas burner, the movie translated that experience for me, within. Thoughts which had made me restless and doubtful, suddenly seemed clearer and less attention-giving. The movie re-instilled in me strongly the hope that I can achieve all that I want in life and deserve the best; that even though the best of things might not happen to the best of people, the things happening will never be extremely bad.

I am a shut off and on person. An art, that I have been able to master over the years through constant efforts and a strong determination. I leave the office when I leave for home and the home when I leave for office. This is also true for movies. I leave the movie when I exit the theatre. But with RDB, things have been drastically different and very exclusive. The movie actually made me feel as if someone has put me in an electric chair and is trying to shake and shock me up. Words just left my side and all expression failed. Communication, which has always been my strongest forte’, just broke. And the only thing I could do was sense, feel, think and let silence do the talking.

I still can’t comment or make up my mind whether what culminated the movie was correct or incorrect; I guess the director should be given his creative space and logic. But what it did do me will always be immortal till I live. All four of us could not talk, say a single word when we left the theatre. It was as if every one is telling each other to just go and let them be alone. Don’t know very clearly about the others but all I wanted to do is sit alone in a corner, cry out loud and think. This feeling is very similar to the one we experience when in a temple and the aarti is happening, though there is so much noise and commotion all around, yet there is peace and stillness inside.

I would cherish this accident with my sub-conscious all my life as it has made me a more patient person and my determination all the more firm.

So people, if you have not watched RDB till now, do go and see it once. For shalvi’s sake. Plzzzzzzzzzzz. And hey do let me know your experiences if you have already seen it.My mail id is milliagarwal@yahoo.com.

An Identity: Shalvi

People have found out innumerable and indigenous spellings for my name and almost all pronounce it differently. Totally leaves me shocked!! Somewhere down the ages it has also made me bias towards people who correctly spell and pronounce my name. I give them special attention coz I get furious when someone says it differently then the voice accustomed to my eardrums. I always thought that people with known names had less difficulty then I had, as my name was always twisted. I always wished that my parents had kept a more familiar or popular name for me. Life would have been so easy then, no explaining the way to pronounce, spell or meaning of your name. But being the first born, I guess all parents have this desire that they should give a different name to their child.

My parents were no exception. They can still not remember, though I have asked umpteen times, as to where did they derive at the name “Shalvi”. Every time I ask a new story pops up, I assume they have forgotten and do not want me to know this. So instead of embarrassing them all the time, I have stopped asking. But a name should mean something na?? So I thought of exploring myself the history behind my name. What was all the more interesting was that people used to tell me different meanings for my name, as I myself did not know the correct one. Some thought it came from the word “shalv” and down the ages due to usage, a word was formed “shalvi”. Someone also told me that “salvi” is a surname and u add an H and it becomes a name.

So much for innovation! Another theory was that off my name being “shalby” but incorrect pronunciation rendered it as “Shalvi” Every time I got a new meaning it thrilled me, made me feel as to wow!! There are so many meanings attached to my name. Regret, it was proved wrong always L. But Alas! I think I have got the correct meaning of my name.Thanks to a friend who understood my dilemma and helped me find the meaning. I will be indebted to him for life. According to his sources “Shalvi” means Daughter of a Sage; And yes "Shalvi Agarwal" is a unique name. Try searching it on google and you will only find me!! There goes modesty out of the window. But do not go by the meaning as it does not say anything about me but defines my dad perfectly. I am no saint and don’t want to be one too.