It gets curiouser and curiouser!

Friday 20 December 2013

Scriballad: 2 Minute Poems!

Challenged myself if I could write quite something that even vaguely resembles a poem.
With a catch: Alloted myself only 2 minutes time!
Inspired by the two minute noodles,
This is the messy cookery of that unnecessary task I put myself to.
P.S Extremely sorry poetry lovers.

You are gifted with beauty.
Reminding that is my duty.
So stop worrying your brain
And drench yourself in my rain.

You are that truly great song,
To which when I sing along
Makes me sound better
Alone,I yam just bitter.

Individually you are
That tiny shining star.
And whenever you wink,
It makes my heart sink.

I know that stars do twinkle.
But never saw your dimple.
Where did you learn this art,
Of messing with my heart?

Waited all night for this chance,
For you to throw me that glance
Now you may just walk away,
Because I just seized my day!

Tuesday 9 July 2013

Inferno- A personal take

This is my first ever book review. I started reading novels only during my 10th. And the first ever novel I happened to place my hands on, was Dan Brown's Angels and Demons. I think its only fair, if I start by reviewing one of Brown's books. Not that my reviews matter or that my reviews are good. Just a plain old guy who couldn't keep his opinions to himself.

Dan Brown's a different kind of author. He happens to be the Director Hari of the west. He dishes out a masala package filled with action, humor, romance, morality,sentimentality and penis jokes in a mind boggling pace. Not that the work's bad. But you go through so many things at once, that you're confused at where the plot's heading. At last, you find out where it is heading: nowhere.

Let me start by summarizing all of Brown's novels. He uses this same formula, not just for the Landon series.

A popular person is murdered in the middle of the night and it leads to a chain of events with devastating consequences which can literally "destroy the world as we know it". An intelligent but unsuspecting hero is being called for expertise which seemingly only he/she can provide. The dead person has left a puzzle to solve, just moments before his death. And solving it is essential to stop the nature of the ticking bomb.
As the protagonist solves it, he is interrupted by an assassin who belongs to an organisation that somehow relates with Christianity or the Government. As fate would have it, he/she is accompanied by an attractive sidekick who always plays second fiddle to the protagonist. We get to see some awkward romance here, accompanied by long hours of monotonous lectures.
But, every book comes with a twist. The protagonist had known the villain, all this time, but never second guessed it.
And what's worse, the villain succeeds, every little time, in every big novel he writes.
We are left pondering in the epilogue, of many things. Of whether the villain has actually done the world any good, Of whether our thoughts on religion are true, Of whether the government is spying on us. And in case of Inferno, we ponder, whether someone can write something as bad as this and get away with it.


Inferno, Welcome to the gates of hell.
Inferno is no different from his time tested success formula. But only, this time it is less intriguing.
In every novel, Brown has one 'new' concept: antimatter in Angels and Demons, Magdalene in DaVinci Code, Aliens in Deception Point,  TRANSLTR in Digital Fortress, and now with Inferno, its overpopulation.
And by the way, God only knows why he wrote The Lost Symbol and what it is based on.
Inferno is definitely better than The Lost Symbol, but that doesn't amount to much.

Inferno starts on a different note: a suicide, rather than a murder. It's revealed in the next 15 pages that the dead one is the villain. And Robert Langdon wakes up with a start, not in his American home, but in a Florence hospital. He seems to have retrograde amnesia, the usual Jason Bourne story. He is on the run from the start and needs to crack a puzzle, but we don't know what it is yet, thus making it somewhat a mystery page-turner. An assassin from an institution named "The Consortium" is sent to kill Langdon. He escapes with a female sidekick Sienna Brooks, as always. The US consulate also seems to kill him and he doesn't know why. Thus, the novel has a promising start.

Then the part of code-breaking comes. Langdon finds that he has a tiny pen projector in his Harris Tweed jacket which shows a modified version of Botticelli's Map of  Hell. With that, and using clues from Dante's classic Divine Comedy, Langdon and Sienna move from place to place. Just from Florence to Venice. The plot always needs a red herring for it to have a twist. And right where you will expect the villain to appear in usual Brown's books, this time instead, a red herring appears in the scene. But his characterization is too weak that, you will immediately guess he is not the villain's sidekick.

One thing leads to another, and they meet the head of WHO, Elizabeth Sinskey. She explains everything. How the villain, Bertrand Zobrist is a psycho who has planned to release a virus to kill all humanity, and how Langdon was manipulated into believing that he was being targeted. Zobrist has made a disturbing video wearing a mask underwater, and talks of purifying humanity. A decent twist arises in the plot, as to who is the assistant of Zobrist, but I won't share that spoiler as it is the only good thing from this novel.
Inbetween, we have continuous repetition on how global population is on its brink and how humans are destroying themselves. Brown needs to mock The Vatican as a sentiment. So he goes on Vatican's take against contraception, which is a good thing.

Langdon solves the code and apparently the virus is in Hagia Sophia, Istanbul. Because Turkey is where the west meets east, it suits the psycho's theories. But all efforts are in vain because, the virus had already been released and the whole world had been affected. Oh, and you can't help but remember Dasavatharam climax when the SWAT team sees swarming viruses in their binoculars. The virus, it seems, doesn't kill humans. Instead it genetically alters human DNA and causes sterility. The humans should accept what the future has in store for them. And in a crappy epilogue, Langdon thinks if Zobrist has actually done the world a good thing.

The book has its Pros, which are meager when compared to its cons. A moment when Langdon is told to have said "Va. Sorry, Va. Sorry" is interpreted as very sorry, but later Langdon realises he has actually said "Vasari, Vasari" an artist's name is quite a good one. The metaphors for overpopulation is good. The twist is decent. But the thing is, this novel doesn't have a plot. It is just a series of moments stuck together, desperately trying to make sense. But in the end, it doesn't.

Why would a psychotic villain want to leave trails of clue for a symbologist to solve? If he just wants to burn the world, then why leave people chasing him in vain hope?
The clues could have been solved by any decent cryptologist, thus rendering Langdon totally unnecessary.
The characterization is too weak. Consider Sienna Brooks, the female sidekick. She is said to have an offbeat IQ of 208, but there is not a single instance where she proves to be an above average person, at the least.
The prose is filled with uneasy metaphors and unnecessary facts.
Brown does his mistake of pretending to understand eastern philosophies yet again. In Lost Symbol, it was about Vyasa. In Inferno, he quotes Vishnu. "I am become death, the destroyer of the world" ,when in fact it was a rough translation of Krishna in Bhagavad Gita.
Did Brown consider the repercussions of the solution he provided? Wouldn't infertility increase the crime rate? People would have no one to attach themselves to, they won't feel the need to raise a family. The total social system could come crashing down the boils.
The head of WHO is said to be "a highly coveted and prestigious post", but I doubt if the post has such high political influences as portrayed.
Brown has no fears when he claims Jesus had a bloodline or when he says NSA looks into every email and taps every call, but he worries about naming a secret institution and changes it to "The Consortium".
This book lacks what made the Langdon series click: a startling revelation about our religious past. There is no centuries old conspiracy to uncover, just a very modern threat, and that makes it boring. In short, Inferno welcomes its readers into the gates of hell.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of Brown. Who couldn't love Tom Hanks as Professor Landon and his mysterious adventures? But, this was definitely a let down. I think we have had enough of religious symbologies and code breaking. I think its time to put Robert Langdon to rest.

Dan Brown once co-authored a book named "187 men to avoid" with his wife.
If he writes another book as Inferno, he would definitely become the 188th.







Sunday 7 July 2013

A Remembrance Letter

From

Me,
Obviously.

To

You,
Where it Belongs.

Dear,

I hope this letter finds you in eternal bliss and perpetual happiness. Every time you read this, you must know that you have made your choice, and a good one at that. Your choice to leave me.

Do you remember falling in love? I don't. But I can't help but remember us falling out of it. I remember. Every little detail of it, completely. I still remember that moment of pain when our relationship shattered in front of my own eyes and my love being torn apart with you walking away.

So here I am, trying to think of what went wrong; Guessing too hard about your emotions which you never show; Pushing myself to analyse if our times together were real. In this letter I will get happy, maybe angry, sometimes even sad. Beyond the veils of these emotions I portray, look hard to find some true facts. You will have some food for thought.
I'm now going through a burden of my past memories.
Because if we treat our past with nonchalance, it will come back hard to haunt us.
That' why I feel I will have to share it with you.

The first time when I saw you, nothing dramatic happened. The sky did not fall over the roof. The ground was still at my feet. But then, you cast a gaze upon me. A gaze which was cruel enough to strike my heart with fierce pain. Maybe that's why you are such a Heart-Throb.
For an year, I never knew your name. I didn't even bother finding out. Because I felt you were mine. And Because, after looking at your eyes, my brain functionality does stop. No, I'm not going to make metaphors about your eyes. Silly, what's the point in comparing beauties?

We all have friends. Some friends for a reason, some for a season. And some for a lifetime. Both of us had such mutual friends. And so, the circumstantial social pressure was the reason for our friendship.
Before I liked how you were. But then, I started to fancy you. I liked everything about you. The way you talk, the way you walk, the way you smile, the way you show style.
We had meaningful conversations. You once told me "Looks are merely a facade. Its the living room of heart that needs to be beautiful." And you mean what you say. I respected your philosophies of life.
Somehow, you unsophisticated my life. It was all plain, easy.

We didn't talk much, but texted a lot. It's always been like that. We haven't spoken much to each other. But the mutual affection between two people could not be measured by merely the number of words they exchange. Sometimes, what couldn't be said in person without awkwardness, can be texted with ease.
I think somewhere between, "Hi, what doing?" to "I wish you stay like this forever", I fell in love with you.

It was strange. I didn't know what it meant, to me, to us.
I didn't know if I had to be honest and tell you that feeling, or hide the fact to save our friendship.
I didn't know if you loved me.
I formulate the question in my head.
I ask myself whether it is something that I really want to know.
I ask myself whether the answer will probably make me happy or sad.
You could have even refused to answer, and I might think of the worst.
So I did what all the brave boys do: drop it like honey, instead of pouring it like milk.
I was dropping you hints. The clues to find out the path to my heart.
But, you were smart. You knew already. And, you were brave. You gave me a green signal before I even made a move.
On that midnight, something unique happened. Nobody proposed. Nobody accepted.
We said we love each other.

Life after that, was on a whole new plane. It was happiness, served in a silver spoon.
It's not just about the love. It's about the responsibility, the respect, the reality of it which makes it better.
We had our share of fights, but we always got back. We had our whole life planned ahead of us.
We had our moments.
I look back at what you did to me.
You lifted me up as a person. You bared my grief. You shared my pain. You were an integral part of my life. How nice it is, to have someone interested in you, to care about you, always, forever.

It was like magic. But sadly, magic can sometimes be just an illusion.

When you are in love, reality doesn't affect you much. You give importance to trivial things, and forget the most important ones. You think its going to last forever, but forever does come with an expiration date.

I don't know what it was. Maybe it was me, maybe it was you, maybe it was your dad, maybe it was our life. Apart from assigning blames, the hard reality that striked me was, you wanted to breakup.
Break-up. Just like that.
I know once you have made up your mind, there was no convincing otherwise.

I had sleepless nights. I wondered how you had the courage to speak those words to me. I thought how you could be so rude to not even tell me why.
I thought about it. Maybe it was something I did. But then, you said I was fine, it was not me.
I didn't know why. It eluded me. It was an Identity Crisis. I didn't know who I was anymore. I felt lonely without you. I felt angry with you, for putting me in this state. I felt sad that it had come to an end.
I need you to give me a reason why I feel so depressed.
I need a reason why I cannot concentrate on anything but you.
My world is turning upside down. I'm spinning round and round.
I want to know why you gave me hope and then took it all away.

There was a time when I was afraid to lose you. I was afraid you may not need me as much as I need you. When my worst fears came true, I didn't handle it well.

I said myself I won't remember you. But every time I say that, I always end up remembering you. Now when you were gone, I realized how much I loved you. I realized how many petty fights we could have avoided, how many perfect moments we could have had. Thinking about you, I always cry. I used to be a strong person who never cried. But now that you are gone, I realize you were my strength.

You feel bad for me now. You say you still love me, but we can't be together. You say we are like parallel lines with a lot in common, but can never join. You have your reasons and I respect your privacy.
And I love you enough, to let you go!
I just wonder if you spare a moment to think of me. If I still mean the same to you.
But apart from that, I'm learning to move on.

Now, why write a letter about things which both of us already know?
Because in my experience, I have learnt that the most common feature in human nature is to forget.
The rate at which we forget things is astonishing.
So, this is a remembrance letter, to remind you of our past.
To remind you of a fragment in your past which you will try hard to forget.
So cheers, go ahead and make your life.

Yours always,
Me.

P.S.  I love you.


Footnote: Incidents portrayed are fictional constructs. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely      coincidental.



Friday 14 June 2013

Uglier on The Inside

You look at me.
All dark,coy and small.
Because you see,
I'm not even that tall.

Searching for some style,
You stare at my face.
But it ends so futile
That you won't find a trace.

Moment enough to judge,
When you will all agree.
And I wont hold a grudge,
When you think I'm so ugly.

"Beauty is only skin deep"
That's what they have to say.
But look inside, be a creep
When the sun shines, make some hay.

What is it you find?
If you seek beauty,
Honestly I don't mind
If you find me empty.

For,
I am uglier on the inside.

Beauty is obvious,
Beauty is loud.
It stands out impervious
Throughout the crowd.

And with me as another nameless face,
I am not beautiful.

Every picture, every opinion,
every reflection and every description,
they don't say I'm beautiful.

I can't agree more.
But I am uglier on the inside.
And I am ugly,
In ways you don't know.

I'm scared of people.
I don't always know what to do.
It's not that simple
To make me happy or sad too.

I judge.
I overanalyze.
I procrastinate.
I stumble.
I'm stupid.

I fish for compliments.
I wish for happiness.
But all I'm left with
Is my own laziness.

I always speak back.
When someone confronts.
I ask for feedback
But leave them with disgrunts.

I am
Vaguely insecure.
Irritably impure.

I make mistakes that I don't even accept.

I don't help.
I don't move.
I don't trust
And I can't even love.

I have false hopes.

I'm full of flaws I'm aware,
Striving for improvement,
Can't say I don't care
Of these vices which lay dormant.

I try to change.
But I break.

I do things that I don't want to.

Everytime I push harder.
But nothing ever changes.

You look at me,
and think I am mad.

But I always remember,
You know my story.
Not what I've been through.

I agree if you think I'm ugly.
I smile to whatever you say.

Mine is a tragedy.
It is beauty waiting to happen.

And I have hope.
That you think I'm ugly
But love me anyway. 

Sunday 17 March 2013

A Blissful Keerthana

The title is strong- ‘tis about classical music.
But what do I know of it?
I’m not a singer. Not even close.That too, with classical carnatic music, I’m more of a mute spectator. I can appreciate the beauty of it though. I can relish those little nuances in ghamakas  even  with being completely ignorant in the subject. It doesn’t take a genius to appreciate beauty,
does it?

I had a formal training in carnatic music for 8 years. So if someone speaks of ragas, thaalas, jaathis, I can nod in remembrance. But I have a problem. No matter how good a song turns out to be, if the song is set to a language I’m not aware of, I get uncomfortable. I strive hard to find the meaning of its lyrics. Numerous thyagaraja and purandharadaasa keerthanas shine with magnificient beauty, but I do not understand a word of it. They say music has no language. I agree. But song lyrics have language. They add value to a composition.
I love “alaiypaayuthe kanna” of oothukaadu venkatasubbaiyar more than “vandhanamu ragunandhana” of thyagaraja. “Theeratha vilayaatu pillai” of Bharathiyaar touches my heart more than “Entha chaalu vaake” of purandharadhaasa. Sure, they are memorable compositions, but they are set in a language I’m not used to. So I don’t cherish them as much as I love tamizh songs.

But there is an exception.

We all know The Queen of Carnatic Music, Bharath Rathna Smt. M.S. Subbulakshmi was invited to sing at UNO on the occasion of UN day celebrations during October 23, 1966 .

 Contrary to popular belief, M.S did not sing “kurai ondrum illai”, one of the best classical tamizh song composed by Rajaji. Instead, she rendered something better.
The song was “Maithreem Bhajatha” composed by Maha periyavaal.




It is composed in the deva bhasha samskritam(Sanskrit).
Paramaacharyaal wrote this song specifically for this occasion, to be rendered on an United Nations ceremony. It is amazing, even to think of the mere existence of such a striking genius. Even after 47 years of composition of this song, the deep meaning imbibed in it makes us think and the relevance to our current times makes it relatable. No one else could have put it better. His elaborate music knowledge, skillful writing in Sanskrit and extraordinary concern for the common welfare of humanity confirms just one thing. He was no mere mortal. He was God who walked on earth.
This is the keerthana

Maithreem Bhajatha , Akhila Hruth Jethreem,
Atmavat eva paraan api pashyatha
Yuddham thyajatha , Spardhaam Tyajata , thyajatha Pareshwa akrama aakramanam
Jananee Prthivee Kaamadughaastey
JanakO Deva: Sakala Dayaalu
Daamyata Datta Dayathvam Janathaa
Sreyo Bhooyaath Sakala Janaanaam
Sreyo Bhooyaath Sakala Janaanaam
Sreyo Bhooyaath Sakala Janaanaam

Raaga - Sung in Ragamalika and also in Yamuna Kalyani
Tala - Adi

And a rough translation of its meaning in English:

With friendship please serve,
And conquer all the hearts,
Please think that others are like you,
Please forsake war for ever,
Please forsake competition for ever,
Please forsake force to get,
Some one else’s property,
For mother earth is a wish giving animal,
And God our father is most merciful,
Restrain, donate and be kind,
To all the people of this world.
Let all the people, live with bliss,
Let all the people live with bliss,
Let all the people live with bliss

As I said earlier, no one else could have put it better.
Salutations to guru paramacharya.
May we live in peaceful times.

Thanks: Wikipedia 

Monday 28 January 2013

அறிவுக்கு வந்தனம்


அடடா!
மாயையான மனத்தில்தான்
மாற்றங்கள் எத்தனை?

நிலையில்லா உலகுக்கோர்
நிலையில்லா நிலவு
நிலையில்லா மனதுக்கோ பல
நிலையில்லா நினைப்பு

நேற்று வரை
நிலவு என்
நெஞ்சுக்கு பால்சோற்றைத் தான்
நினைவு படுத்தியது

இன்று நிலவு
ஏனென் மனதிற்கு
தேசியக் கொடியை
நினைவு படுத்துகிறது?

விந்தையாய் தான் இருக்கிறது!

எங்கேயோ ஏவப்படும்
ஏவுகலத்தில் ஏறி
எட்டத்தில் இருக்கும்
எழில்மிகு நிலவிலே
என் நாட்டு தேசியக்கொடி
எழுச்சியுடன் நிற்க
என்மனமோ நானேஅதை
ஏவியதாக எண்ணுகிறது



இது மனத்தின் மாயையோ?
இருக்கட்டும்...

நிலவுக்கு கலம் அனுப்பி
நாட்டிற்கு பெருமை சேர்த்த
நாயகர்களைப் போற்றிப் புகழ
நான் தகுதியுள்ளவன் அல்லேன்...

குறிப்பு: சந்திரயான் கலத்திலிருந்து நம்
             தேசியக்கொடி நிலவில் நிறுவப்பட்ட
             அன்று மனம் நெகிழ்ந்து எழுதியது...

அஹிம்சை


"காந்தியின் கொள்கை என்ன?"
என்று கேட்ட கேள்விக்கு
பதில் தெரியாமல் பதைபதைத்த
மாணவனை பிரம்பினால் அடித்துவிட்டு
பதிலை பெருமையாய் சொன்னார் ஆசிரியர்
'அஹிம்சை' என்று!

மனமும் ஞானமும்


மனம்:
"இரவில் சுதந்திரம் வாங்கினோம்
இன்னும் விடியவில்லை!"
ஞானம்:
"விடிந்து வெகு நேரமாயிற்று;
போர்வைக்குள் என்னடா புலம்பல்?"

Wednesday 23 January 2013

நாணயம்


பேருந்தில் ஏறினேன்
வண்டிக்கட்டணம் எட்டு ரூபாய்
நடத்துனரிடம் நீட்டினேன்
பத்துரூபாய் தாளை
நடத்துனர் பாக்கி தரவில்லை....
அவரிடம் சில்லரை இல்லையோ?
இல்லை-
அவரிடம் நாணயம் இல்லை!

Sunday 20 January 2013

Random Curiosity

Random Curiosity

Remember when we were little?
We were pondering over every little thing on earth.
The world seemed mysterious.
And we wanted to make sense out of it.
We were bubbling with curiosity and asked random questions 
that we could think of;
"Why is the moon round?
Why do stars twinkle?
Why do we dream?
Why are plants green?"
Sure, we'd ask some naive questions too;
But that didn't stop us from being inquisitive.
Sometimes, when we don't get a straight honest answer to our questions, we assure ourselves that it is not the end.
We think, when we go to higher classes, we'd get our answers.
We think, when we grow old, it would all make sense.
But, did it make sense?


No. What's worse, the system has got to us.
Amidst an ocean of smart people, who are constantly striving to get ahead of us, even a minute wasted to curiosity seems like a blunder.
Teachers no more welcome questions.
They've struck a deal with the syllabus.
"To talk without understanding,
To teach without grasping.
To ridicule questions without listening."
has been their motto.
And we no more ask questions, for they are better left unanswered than wrong-answered.
We are learning in a minds-off environment.
Honestly, how many of us 'like' learning what we are taught?
We care more about grades and marks, but is that all?!
I personally feel, grades don't measure understanding.
So, lets ask ourselves a honest question:
Where is our education headed?
And a few other questions:
Do we know how to learn?
Does being curious pay off?
Of what use is, seeking answers to our questions?
Is questioning authority disrespectful?

This is a paragraph I read in "The Demon Haunted World" by 
Carl Sagan. Being a genius astronomer and a science enthusiast,
he answers these questions in a vivid and inspiring manner.
Read through.

"In a world in transition, students and teachers both need to teach themselves one essential skill —learning how to learn.
Except for children (who don't know enough not to ask the important questions), few of us spend much time wondering why Nature is the way it is; where the Cosmos came from, 
or whether it was always here;
if time will one day flow backward, and effects precede causes; 
or whether there are ultimate limits to what humans can know. There are even children, and I have met some of them, who want to know what a black hole looks like; what is the smallest piece of matter; why we remember the past and not the future; and why there is a Universe.
Every now and then, I'm lucky enough to teach a kindergarten or
first-grade class. Many of these children are natural-born scientists,
although heavy on the wonder side and light on skepticism. 
They're curious, intellectually vigorous. Provocative and insightful questions bubble out of them. They exhibit enormous enthusiasm. I'm asked follow-up questions. They've never heard of the notion of a "dumb question."
But when I talk to high school seniors, I find something different.
They memorize "facts." By and large, though, the joy of discovery,
the life behind those facts, has gone out of them. They've lost much of the wonder, and gained very little skepticism. They're worried about asking "dumb" questions; they're willing to accept inadequate answers;they don't pose follow-up questions; the room is awash with sidelong glances to judge, second-by-second, the approval of their peers. They come to class with their questions written out on pieces of paper, which they surreptitiously examine, waiting their turn and oblivious of whatever discussion their peers are at this moment engaged in.
Something has happened between first and twelfth grade, and it's
not just puberty. I'd guess that it's partly peer pressure not to excel
(except in sports); partly that the society teaches short-term gratification;partly the impression that science or mathematics won't buy you a sports car; partly that so little is expected of students; and partly that there are few rewards or role models for intelligent discussion of
science and technology—or even for learning for its own sake. Those few who remain interested are vilified as "nerds" or "geeks" or "grinds."
But there's something else: I find many adults are put off when
young children pose scientific questions. Why is the Moon round? the children ask. Why is grass green? What is a dream? How deep can you dig a hole? When is the world's birthday? Why do we have toes? Too many teachers and parents answer with irritation or ridicule, or quickly move on to something else: "What did you expect the Moon to be, square?" Children soon recognize that somehow this kind of question annoys the grown-ups. A few more experiences like it, and another child has been lost to science. Why adults should pretend to omniscience before 6-year-olds, I can't for the life of me understand. What's wrong with admitting that we don't know something? Is our self-esteem so fragile?
What's more, many of these questions go to deep issues in science,
a few of which are not yet fully resolved. Why the Moon is round has to do with the fact that gravity is a central force pulling towards the middle of any world, and with how strong rocks are. Grass is green because of the pigment chlorophyll, of course—we've all had that drummed into us by high school —but why do plants have chlorophyll?
It seems foolish, since the Sun puts out its peak energy in the
yellow and green part of the spectrum. Why should plants all over the world reject sunlight in its most abundant wavelengths? Maybe it's a frozen accident from the ancient history of life on Earth. But there's something we still don't understand about why grass is green.
There are many better responses than making the child feel that
asking deep questions constitutes a social blunder. If we have an idea of the answer, we can try to explain. Even an incomplete attempt constitutes a reassurance and encouragement. If we have no idea of the
answer, we can go to the encyclopedia. If we don't have an encyclopedia,
we can take the child to the library. Or we might say: "I don't
know the answer. Maybe no one knows. Maybe when you grow up,
you'll be the first person to find out."
There are naive questions, tedious questions, ill-phrased questions,
questions put after inadequate self-criticism. But every question is a cry to understand the world. There is no such thing as a dumb question.
Bright, curious children are a national and world resource. They
need to be cared for, cherished, and encouraged. But mere encouragement isn't enough. We must also give them the essential tools to think with."

I'm not a thinker. I don't propose solutions.
All I'm saying is 
Be Curious.


"So we keep asking, over and over,
Until a handful of earth
Stops our mouths —
But is that an answer?"
    -HEINRICH  HEINE ,



Text Widget

Copyright © The Curious Cat | Powered by Blogger

Design by Anders Noren | Blogger Theme by NewBloggerThemes.com