Letting out a little secret about myself.

This is one secret about me which not many people know off. May be my parents and to some extend my husband.

Nothing serious. Now in retrospect somewhat humorous.

My childhood (the early 70's) was the time of hippies and bell-bottoms. As a child I saw these images in movies, there was very little television in those days. Indian actress Zeenat Aman was iconic in her flower printed maxi's (gowns), with layers of beads around her neck and a bandana on her forehead. Smoking a cheerot in the movie "Hare Krishna Hare Ram", she carried an almost Nirvana like expressions on her face in the movie.

As I grew up, painting caught my interest. More like a hobby. I would play with colors, spend my summer holidays and wet rainy days painting what ever caught my fancy. I simply loved painting in those days. Not sound rude, but I was indeed very good at it. Very original and creative in the use of textures and colors. My parents would proudly display my paintings to relatives and friends, praising my talent. But they wanted me to become a Doctor!

At school, my teachers too recognized my talent. They encouraged me to participate in contests and entered my name on behalf of my school. I did win some of them.

So while my parents wanted me to become a doctor and my teachers too thought that I will do well in academic (which I did) what was it that I wanted????

Ah! thats the secret which I have mentioned in the first para of this write-up. I was very impressed with the hippies and the freedom they enjoyed in life. Let me be upfront. It had nothing to do with the so called concept of free sex. Because I was too young to know and understand this concept of free sex. But yes, my dream was to live like a hippy. Wearing clothes such as what Zeenat Aman wore in the movie "Hare Krishna Hare Ram" and generally roaming from one place to another with a gang of hippies. So how would I support myself? where would the money come from? that where my hobby came into the picture. I planned to paint. Become a world famous painter and live in the cities of famous painters such as Michelangelo and Picasso. No house..just live in cheap digs and attics.Paint ...paint and paint...I am unable to recollect if I wanted to do the drugs. Maybe not. Just live a free life, learning to paint from some great masters in Rome and Venice. I just wanted to paint, paint and paint.

People who know me as the mis-in-control at all times, will find it very funny and difficult to imagine that I wanted to become a hippy!!!

My parents has a dream that I become a Doctor. Living like a hippy and aspiring to become a Doctor is like the Sun and the moon on the earth's horizon at the same time in the noon heat!!!Impossible.

Somewhere with the passing years, I took up the academic path. Went for my studies. Doctor I did not become. But ok. I am doing fairly well in my career today.

When I am too bogged down with work pressures and life problems, this innocent childhood dream of living life like a hippy and doing what I loved doing the most i.e painting re-surfaces.

I have not given up my childhood dream of holding a solo Art exhibition of my work. With changed life style; work pressure and managing a home the dream I have slightly modified.

It is a promise to myself. I will certainly hold a solo exhibition of my work. But not paintings'. It will be photography. And about living like a hippy. Not impossible. Except that now my husband will have to agree too. To live like a hippy!!! May be when we are old....60-70 years of age. We will become hippies. With flowered clothes and banadana's, smoking cheerot and playing th guitar. Very amusing thought.

However, I am intelligent enough to modify my dream and make it more practical.

A Poem by Theodre Tilton - This too shall pass away

I am overwhelmed with the response received to this poem. I was reading through a book and found this poem in the book. The fine words of this poem touched a deep cord in my heart and I decided to put it up on the net i.e my blog for others to read it and enjoy too.

Just sharing some statistics with the visitors to my blog- there is an average of 2 hits per day on my blog because someone somewhere is searching for this poem!!!! Also this poem, complete in all respects is only available on my blog, nowhere else on the net (I think so). I have tried searching it myself but was unable to find it.

My only request to all those who visit my blog for this poem, please take time and read through the write-ups I have on blog. It is a promise you will not be disappointed.

This Too Shall Pass Away

Once in Persia reigned a King,
Who upon his signet ring
Graved a maxim true and wise,
Which, if held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance,
Fit for every change and chance.
Solemn words, and these are they;
"Even this shall pass away."

Trains of camels through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarcand;
Fleets of galleys through the seas
Brought him pearls to match with these;
But he counted not his gain,
Treasures of mine or main;
"What is wealth?" the king would say;
"Even this shall pass away."

Mid the revels of his court,
At the zenith of his sport,
When the palms of all his guests,
Burned with clapping at his jests,
He, amid his figs and wine;
Cried, 'O loving friends of mine;
Pleasures come, but not to stay;
"Even this shall pass away"

Lady, fairest ever seen,
Was the bride he crowned his queen.
Pillowed on his marriage bed,
Softly to his soul he said:
Though no bridegroom ever passed;
Fairer bosom to his breast,
Mortal flesh must come to clay-
"Even this shall pass away"

Fighting on a furious field,
Once a javelin pierced his shield;
Soldiers, with a loud lament,
Bore him bleeding to his tent.
Groaning from his tortured side,
"Pain is hard to bear," he cried;
"But with patience, day by day,
Even this shall pass away.

Towering in the public square,
Twenty cubits in the air,
Rose his statue carved in stone.
Then the king, disguised, unknown,
Stood before his sculptured name,
Musing meekly: "What is fame?"
Fame is but a slow decay;

Even this shall pass away.

Struck with palsy, sore and old,
Waiting at the Gates of Gold,
Said he with his dying breath,
"Life is done, but what is death?"
Then, in answer to the king,
Fell a sun beam on his ring,
"Even this shall pass away."