When I viewed the last episode of Yume or dreams by Akira Kurosawa,the surrealistic dream world shows his abiding love of the natural environment as a Luddite fantasy.The profusion of flowers,the agarian lifestyle and the celebratory mood of dance and music that accompanies a funeral.Whilst Kurosawa was against the use of nuclear weapons ,would he have forseen the devastation of Fukushima on future generations,the wipe out of the agarian lifestyle a forboding of the extent of technological destruction.
The pervasive influence of technological progress is an uphill battle.As seen in Jamyang Kyentse Norbu's film Travellers and Magicians,there is a dilemma in introducing technological communication to a kingdom that had been cut off from the influences of commercial entertainment and relied on their oral stories to draws on traditional folk tales.How would such traditional culture hold against the excitement of dazzling Bollywood and Hollywood spectacular movies.The clash of modernity vs traditional is all to imminent as the protaganist dreams of a "cool lifestyle"that collides with the monk's simple narrative tale of lust and lurid passions.
I would need to watch Kurosawa's "To Live " or Ikiru and contrast that with another great cinema director's epic film,Zhang YiMou's "To Live".Both deal with an individual's quest to look for meaning in Life.
Monday, October 31, 2016
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Olive sunbird
The flowering plants are blooming profusely and yesterday a pair of olive sunbirds with curved beaks feasted on the nectar.
Nature is amazing that two tiny lovebirds can zoom in the concrete jungle to find food in my secret garden.
My ideal retreat would be in the banks of the Gopeng gushing river,to awaken to birds shrill chirps,looking for the Rafflesia or ginger plants,basking on a boulder by the ripples and dipping my toes in the swirling waters.
That's my kind of life.Simple.Rustic and far from the madding crowd.Bliss
Nature is amazing that two tiny lovebirds can zoom in the concrete jungle to find food in my secret garden.
My ideal retreat would be in the banks of the Gopeng gushing river,to awaken to birds shrill chirps,looking for the Rafflesia or ginger plants,basking on a boulder by the ripples and dipping my toes in the swirling waters.
That's my kind of life.Simple.Rustic and far from the madding crowd.Bliss
Sunday, October 23, 2016
the big picture
Difficulty to implement as the devil is in the details
All the concepts are interesting and thought provoking but sometimes when we're BIG on the PICTURE ,we 're short on the specifics.
It's like concepts like happiness and creativity.What criteria can we use to measure it and it differs from person to person.In some countries,presumably a criterion of happiness would be pristine environment but the trade off would be less industrialization.In another country,it could be basic food and shelter and yet another country political stability or job opportunities.
Again when I look at creativity,the criteria could be something as prosaic as the dialogue or as far fetched as avant garde dances.What is the yardstick or should there be different yardsticks for different cultures?
All the concepts are interesting and thought provoking but sometimes when we're BIG on the PICTURE ,we 're short on the specifics.
It's like concepts like happiness and creativity.What criteria can we use to measure it and it differs from person to person.In some countries,presumably a criterion of happiness would be pristine environment but the trade off would be less industrialization.In another country,it could be basic food and shelter and yet another country political stability or job opportunities.
Again when I look at creativity,the criteria could be something as prosaic as the dialogue or as far fetched as avant garde dances.What is the yardstick or should there be different yardsticks for different cultures?
Saturday, October 8, 2016
when kumar meets his karma
Continuation
The love potion works
The kumari is so love smitten that she is unable to carry out her religious duties.
her mind is so clouded by images of kumat that she loses her ability of prophecy.
her devotees carry her on a sedan chair so that her feet will not be defiled by dirt and dust and impurities of the earth.They bribe her with the best aroma filled laddhu and gold leafed sweets in return for her third eye vision."Tell me who my future wife will be like?" " Should I sell my farm to work in Hong Kong?" they pleaded but she was not her usual self.She giggled and looked coy as she was of all things love struck.Her devotees worshipped the ground she walked on but dear kumari's head was up in the clouds.
one night,kumar smuggled into the temple and holding her hands smuggled her out .They ran as fast as possible until they couldn't catch their breadth .Onto a taxi they hopped and ran away as lovers do to the farm in the remote Pokhara.
The Kumari hadn't foreseen the devastating earthquake that nearly flattened Kathmandu.Love saved her as even the temple she resided in collapsed like a pack of cards.Death and loss lingered and lurked in every corner as not even the gods could predict the earthquake
Ah reality began to sink in when kumar realised that kumaris are goddesses with feet of clay.
She turned into a sharp tongued wife,berating him for making her slave away in the hot kitchen while he ploughed the field and did all the back breaking work of walking miles to fetch water from a well.She refused to touch the broom as it defiled her "purity".She berated him with sharp words when he couldnt afford to buy her laddhu and gulai jamun .She whined "The villagers especially those wrinkled old cow are calling me names like Mrs K who cannot get her hands dirty",Mrs K ,get down to earth,they sneered and smirked.The male folks blamed her for causing the earth to be angry as she had abandoned the gods for the sake of the mortal.
unable to take it any more,she listened to the sweet nothings of the well dressed and heavily perfumed neighbour Mr Govinder .He smuggled her the kohl which she used to draw her eyelids,he even let her watch his Bollywoood movies when her husband was away ploughing and weeding in the hot sun.
Five months later,she had disappeared and the neighbour Mr Gobinder was no longer around.Gossips abound in the small village that they had eloped to another country,Some said Mr Gobinder was a rich ass who swindled young girls and sold them to the brothels in New Delhi.
As for Kumar,the heart broken husband sold the farm and bought a plane ticket to Kuala Lumpur. He works as an usher in a stand alone Lotus Cinema, drowning himself in sorrow at night with illicit moonshine and toddy and wtaching old reruns of glitsy actresses and Bollywood rags for riches story that sucked his beloved Kumari into the screens of illusion.
The love potion works
The kumari is so love smitten that she is unable to carry out her religious duties.
her mind is so clouded by images of kumat that she loses her ability of prophecy.
her devotees carry her on a sedan chair so that her feet will not be defiled by dirt and dust and impurities of the earth.They bribe her with the best aroma filled laddhu and gold leafed sweets in return for her third eye vision."Tell me who my future wife will be like?" " Should I sell my farm to work in Hong Kong?" they pleaded but she was not her usual self.She giggled and looked coy as she was of all things love struck.Her devotees worshipped the ground she walked on but dear kumari's head was up in the clouds.
one night,kumar smuggled into the temple and holding her hands smuggled her out .They ran as fast as possible until they couldn't catch their breadth .Onto a taxi they hopped and ran away as lovers do to the farm in the remote Pokhara.
The Kumari hadn't foreseen the devastating earthquake that nearly flattened Kathmandu.Love saved her as even the temple she resided in collapsed like a pack of cards.Death and loss lingered and lurked in every corner as not even the gods could predict the earthquake
Ah reality began to sink in when kumar realised that kumaris are goddesses with feet of clay.
She turned into a sharp tongued wife,berating him for making her slave away in the hot kitchen while he ploughed the field and did all the back breaking work of walking miles to fetch water from a well.She refused to touch the broom as it defiled her "purity".She berated him with sharp words when he couldnt afford to buy her laddhu and gulai jamun .She whined "The villagers especially those wrinkled old cow are calling me names like Mrs K who cannot get her hands dirty",Mrs K ,get down to earth,they sneered and smirked.The male folks blamed her for causing the earth to be angry as she had abandoned the gods for the sake of the mortal.
unable to take it any more,she listened to the sweet nothings of the well dressed and heavily perfumed neighbour Mr Govinder .He smuggled her the kohl which she used to draw her eyelids,he even let her watch his Bollywoood movies when her husband was away ploughing and weeding in the hot sun.
Five months later,she had disappeared and the neighbour Mr Gobinder was no longer around.Gossips abound in the small village that they had eloped to another country,Some said Mr Gobinder was a rich ass who swindled young girls and sold them to the brothels in New Delhi.
As for Kumar,the heart broken husband sold the farm and bought a plane ticket to Kuala Lumpur. He works as an usher in a stand alone Lotus Cinema, drowning himself in sorrow at night with illicit moonshine and toddy and wtaching old reruns of glitsy actresses and Bollywood rags for riches story that sucked his beloved Kumari into the screens of illusion.
Sunday, October 2, 2016
Reflections
Who am I?
This is one of the hardest question to answer as our thoughts shift from moment to moment.But in the modern world,we let money and power ,career and social status define us.We let others" expectations define who we are- our national leaders,our religious leaders,our school system ,our community of what it means to"make it" in Life.Strip away all that veneer and start asking yourself who amI? A parent, a child,a friend, a niece or nephew ,a mentor,a citizen and the list goes on. Who am I would be shining a light into what am I doing and where am I heading?
I've been devastated by pain and loss,two powerful forces our Teacher discovered as he left his life of no pain no stress and no fear to encounter sickness,old age ,and death.I visited the two surviving sisters left from my late mother's tight knit family of the Four sisters and 1 brother.The eldest is suffering from dementia which is a blessing in disguise as she doesn't pine for familiar faces and fourth aunt is the sweetest optimist who cooks the most delicious food and gives to family,neighbours and friends.Strong survival instincts thathave seen them live through the second world war,deprivations ,and suffering but the sense of communal spirit and kinship is so strong.Remarkable resilience.
"Dover Beach".
The Sea of Faith
Was once,too,at the full ,and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy,long,withdrawing roar,
Retreating ,to the breath
Of the night-wind,down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world
"Ah,love,let us be true
To one another!for the world,which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various,so beautiful,so new,
Hath really neither joy,nor love,nor light,
Nor certitude,nor peace,nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night."
From Fahrenheit 451
Ray Bradbury
Poetry and tears,poetry and sickness;all that mush!
This is one of the hardest question to answer as our thoughts shift from moment to moment.But in the modern world,we let money and power ,career and social status define us.We let others" expectations define who we are- our national leaders,our religious leaders,our school system ,our community of what it means to"make it" in Life.Strip away all that veneer and start asking yourself who amI? A parent, a child,a friend, a niece or nephew ,a mentor,a citizen and the list goes on. Who am I would be shining a light into what am I doing and where am I heading?
I've been devastated by pain and loss,two powerful forces our Teacher discovered as he left his life of no pain no stress and no fear to encounter sickness,old age ,and death.I visited the two surviving sisters left from my late mother's tight knit family of the Four sisters and 1 brother.The eldest is suffering from dementia which is a blessing in disguise as she doesn't pine for familiar faces and fourth aunt is the sweetest optimist who cooks the most delicious food and gives to family,neighbours and friends.Strong survival instincts thathave seen them live through the second world war,deprivations ,and suffering but the sense of communal spirit and kinship is so strong.Remarkable resilience.
"Dover Beach".
The Sea of Faith
Was once,too,at the full ,and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy,long,withdrawing roar,
Retreating ,to the breath
Of the night-wind,down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world
"Ah,love,let us be true
To one another!for the world,which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various,so beautiful,so new,
Hath really neither joy,nor love,nor light,
Nor certitude,nor peace,nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night."
From Fahrenheit 451
Ray Bradbury
Poetry and tears,poetry and sickness;all that mush!
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