thoda hai thode ki jarurat hai

Dusty in Memphis - The Windmills of Your Mind(audio only)

Carly Simon "Scarborough Fair"

Danny Boy Ireland

Bertie Higgins - Casablanca

And I am on the way back to my blogging

माय kingdom - पेंटिंग बी दीपक मनों

माय पेंटिंग ऑफ़ थे एअगल ओंन थे मौन्तैं सुर्वेयिंग इट्स kingdom

End of an Era - An Eulogy dedicated to Mrs Promilla Ghose my Great Aunt - Entry for January 08, 2008

End of an Era - An Eulogy dedicated to Mrs Promilla Ghose my Great aunt

Jan 8, '08 6:15 AM for everyone

THE PHOTOGRAPH IS OF PROMILLA GHOSE WITH HER MOST WONDERFUL HUSBAND ARTHUR GHOSE BEFORE HE LEFT HER TO AWAIT HER COMING IN ANOTHER WORLD

On 3rd Dec 1916 was born my mothers elder sister - one of the great and exceedingly talented people of her time. She was an MA BT in the nascent field of Geography at a time when one could count such qualified people on the fingers of one hand. She had a passion for literature and learning beyond her years and times. She would write beautiful verses in Shakespearean English one moment and recite entire passages from Milton or Tennyson the next. She had a beautiful handwriting and it was amazing to see her write English text perhaps like a calligrapher. Turn to the next page of her diary and one would see beautifully lettered URDU text in which she may have written the accounts of the daily expenses. Ask and she would recite a beautiful verse in Persian and were the adventurous inclined to ask her about the wind or the mountains or rocks or minerals or the great Ocean currents and the effect of the Albido of the earths atmosphere on them - he would have to return satiated to the brim with the most amazingly focussed and yet simply taught lesson on these things that any one on earth could ever have delivered with such tremendous erudition.

She had a lecturarship in Geography in a college at Ferozpur in north India in 1947, while her entire family was living in the cities of Quetta in Baluchistan and Lahore (both now in Pakistan). When it was announced that the subcontinent was to be partationed into India and Pakistan, this intreped lady rushed across the riot torn burning countries by truck and on bicycles to her home and (by virtue of her indominatable spirit and will and the care and concern for others which has always remained the hallmark of her life), she brought the entire family to India and along with her mother and her wonderful husband Arthur, they brought up all the youngers including the children adopted by my grandmother after the Quetta earthquake in 1929, with care and inspired them all to successfully make their place in this world with honour and honesty unfounded.

On the 1st of January 2008, she was called to a better world by the will of God, perhaps because it was the will of God who would have wished her to be at his side because she was in spirit a true Altruist and her memory will always be imprinted in words of Gold in the hearts and minds of all who knew her - of which there are uncountable thousands - she worked in the St Thomas School at Dehradun for 33 years and spent the last period of over a decade as its Principal inspiring each and every student to live up to the motto of the school - "To Greater Heights"

This post is a heartfelt prayer to the Good Lord to keep her soul in blissfull sleep till all those she loved, and all who loved her, are united with her once again ....

Eternally remembered by Pinky, Deepak and Vikram her ever loving children and family and friends

I have posted this on my Multiply site too :- http://deepakdemoninlove।multiply।com/journal/item/73/End_of_an_Era_-_An_Eulogy_

dedicated_to_Mrs_Promilla_Ghose_my_Great_aunt

An Indian and an American Recipe - Compare if you can

I got these two recipes from the Yahoo recipe site. If you have the patience - try them out and decide the winner for yourself.
A. Title: CRICKET'S SPAM QUICHE
Categories: Meats, Eggs
Yield: 4 servings
1 c Coarsely chopped mushrooms
5 T Butter/margarine
1 c Finely crushed stone wheat
-crackers
1/4 c Green onions, sliced
1/4 c Brown onions, chopped
3/4 c Monterey Jack cheese
3/4 c Medium Sharp Cheddar cheese,
-grated
3/4 c Mozzarella cheese, grated
1 c Ricotta cheese
4 ea Eggs
1/4 t Cayenne pepper
1/4 t Paprika
1/4 c Milk
1 ea Cooked artichoke
1/4 c Green bell pepper, chopped
1/4 c Red bell pepper, chopped
1 cn Spam, shredded

1. Saute mushrooms in 3 Tbs butter until limp.
2. Stir in the crushed crackers, then turn into well greased 10-inch round
quiche pan.
3. Press mushroom mixture evenly over bottom of dish and up the sides.
4. Melt remaining butter, add onions, saute and add shredded Spam. Layer
shredded cheeses and Spam in dish.
5. In blender, whirl the eggs, ricotta, milk and cayenne until smooth.
6. Pour Into crust and sprinkle with paprika. Place sauteed red and
green bell peppers on top. Bake in oven at 375 for 40 to 45 mins.
7. Garnish with cooked artichoke.

B. TITLE- New Delhi Spiced Chicken
Recipe By : Jo Anne Merrill
Serving Size : 4 Preparation Time :0:40 Categories : Ethnic Poultry Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method -------- ------------ ------- 1 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 teaspoon curry powder
1 teaspoon coriander
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon chili powder -- * pure
black pepper -- to taste
3 tablespoons Pure butterfat -- or margarine
4 boneless skinless chicken breast halves -- cubed
2 onions -- chopped fine
2 tomatoes -- chopped
2 green bell peppers -- chopped fine
1 celery stalks -- chopped fine
3 parsley sprigs -- minced
2 garlic cloves -- minced
1/3 cup seedless raisins
1 tablespoon dry sherry
1 1/2 teaspoons lemon juice
* Pure chili contains only chili powder. There are no other spices in it.Strengths vary from mild to fiery hot. If you cannot find pure chili for this recipe, try regular chili.

1. Heat two tablespoons butter or margarine in a large skillet. Placefirst six ingredients (all the spices) in skillet and brown for 1 minute over high heat.
2. Have the chicken breasts boned, skinned and cut into bite-sized cubes. Place chicken in skillet with browned spices; stir to coat well, then brown 1 minute longer or until chicken has turned white on the inside (cut a piece to check). Remove from pan and set aside.
3. Add remaining butter to pan and saute onions over high heat until limp.
4.Add remaining ingredients, including browned chicken, and cook over medium heat until celery is tender but still slightly crisp. Vegetables will give off some juiciness as they cook.
Serve over brown rice. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Serving Ideas : Serve with brown rice and cucumbers in yogurt dressing.

EASTER

By DEEPAK MENON - A POEM
Recorded History tells of 20 pieces of Silver
And records a last supper just the day before
When the man from Galillee spoke of a betrayer
Who would not keep betrayal in abeyance any more!
.
So it came about and a troop came to a garden
And carried away the man who rode on a mule
To be judged by whom we may call a Roman Warden
Who was a proxy sent, the promised land to rule
.
Judgement was swift as is always wont to be
When humans sense their glory false is in danger
And with two petty thieves our hero was instantly
Sentenced to to be crucified like a criminal stranger
.
Knowing it was the Zenith of the plan of the Lord
He carried a cross himself up the fateful hill
A crown of thorns, cresting his bloody brow so broad
With even a cup of water offered on the way, spil’d
.
By brutal overseers of the tyrannical rulers of the land
Who lashed the valiant preacher of the ultimate grace
And forbade any from the crowds, from lending him a hand
All the way to the terrible fateful dreaded place
.
Where was finally planted the cross they had carried
And with nails driven through their feet and hands
They were crucified, and the tyrants never tarried
And swept away to desecrate other people’s lands
.
And on that Good Friday the heavens opened their doors
Shedding rain like the tears of the angels of the Lord
Carrying the preachers blood across the plains and moors
To mingle with and change water to the nectar of the lord.
.
And the diseases afflicting the exploited masses of the Earth
Were washed away; Lepers became whole again
But there was only sadness over the land, without any mirth
As the heavens continued to pour the Lords tears like rain
.
“Good Friday” passed and gave way to another day
And the lifeless remains of the Immaculate Conception
Carried into a cave and thrown inside and inert they lay
A boulder blocking the entrance marking the trepidation
.
Of the keepers of the flag of injustice and tyrannical rule
Who feared that the sight of the body itself could be
A trigger for the masses to rise against the unholy rule
Yes, the cowardly tyrants - feared even what they could not see!
.
But came the Lord's day of rest, and he reached out with love
Rising from the floor, moving the boulder with a gesture
He emerged from the cave and set to flight the whitest dove
Carrying his message of love glittering with ethereal lusture
.
To the corners of the world and the Disciples outside in wait
Rose as one with amazed wonder in their incredulous look
As they watched him ascend to Heavens Golden Gate
Leaving his message of truth and love in his immortal book
.
A testament of love for the peoples of the Earth
A vision to cherish, when awake or in slumber they lay
For the millennia to follow, since the Christ took birth
And for His return the millions do pray, on Easter Day

THE EMPTY HALLS AGAIN FULL OF LOVE - a poem by me

She explores the halls of her inner being
Full of the vestiges of could have been dreams
Now the halls are deserted and no one is seen
Agoraphobic panic fills he,r as she silently screams
.
.Screams against the emptiness, now filling her soul
crying for golden memories, of her past to come alive
To once again show her the gates of her golden goal
Where once, the beautiful garden of love did thrive..
.
But the sands of time were scattered by a howling wind
A long time ago, when brightly shining was love's light
and the ardour of love was slowly eroded and thinned
Till came a darkness, to empty the halls like a blight.
.
Many empty years passed, in battling that inner yearning
for a glory slowly fading, into the dim and dark past.
Till, from far away, came a little light brightly burning
and into the darkness, a glimmer of kindling love cast.
.
The shadows faded, and the sky again surely lightened
Fear receded into the darkness again, giving rising hope
Of another Paradise, with expectations more heightened
and life was no longer a sorrow needing tears to cope..
.
Because from the far away horizon, came a reveling crowd
Of strangers, with friendship and affection in their heart
And the songs of friendship reverberated clear and loud
Singing, that from her internet friends she would never part!!.
.
Composed by Deepak Menon (demoninlove) specially for a
a kind gentle and loving internet friend, directly on her blog
on 25th Feb 2007 as a comment response to an entry on her
blog which seemed to reflect some despondancy in her .....

It's a choice not to say those hurtful worsa

Love is a strange mix of things. It has to be put before all else. It can't be
allowed to get run down and neglected. At the beginning of love... things
are often easy. Maintaining it , however, is a conscious choice. It's a choice
as to whether you take the time , thought , energy, and consideration to
make love continue as it was in the beginning. It's a choice not to walk away
when the ugly side of commitment appears. It's a choice not to say those hurtful
words that YOU CAN'T TAKE BACK.
So , again, what is love? I suppose there are many stages of love, but to get
to the lasting kind takes alot of hard work, dedication, and
commitment . The lasting kind requires you to work as hard
at the relationship as you would to getting a promotion or a raise.
The lasting kind requires a reciprocal agreement to put the othe
r persons needs before your own. The lasting kind takes the most work,.
but is also the most beautiful and fulfilling.
Author unknown.
And after reading that on Kathy’s friend Sophia’s Blog I thought that I would post some proverbs I had written on my blog on the subject of Lovers who are generally incurably afflicted with the Love thing …
LOVERS
14.1 Lovers see only with their hearts. Blind to
everything else, they cannot avoid the pitfalls
inevitably scattered along the path of life.
.
14.2 The love of a lover is akin to the worship
of a worship­per. Both are oblivious to
the flaws and pits in the façades of their
respective idols - which are all too apparent
to the non lover or the non worshipper.
One who can see the flaws is neither a lover
nor a worshipper.
.
14.3 The power of love can make or destroy worlds.
The history of our mother earth would be
drab indeed, if it were not so lav­ishly
bejeweled with sparkling episodes of the antics
of lovers.
. . . .Deepak Menon

Check out my Slide Show!

I finally have a guest book - and it is for you all - so welcome and add yourself - your friend Deepak

SONNET NO 7 by me Entry for January 02, 2007

Many rungs has the ladder which I ascend

Lost in clouds is the peak where lies my goal

Will not some Angel its wings to me lend?

For I dare not tarry lest Earthward I roll !!

And that Heaven for whose glory I do aspire

That land of the Nectar of Immortality

May prove to be a fable of some great liar

A graveyard of souls lost in morality

Yet the call of the faraway bells, which chime

A melody that moves faint chords deep within

Fills me with an irresistible longing for a time

Lost in the past – yet somewhere still existing

And so in the searching the meaning of life lies

Waiting to be found before the light of day - dies
............................................By Deepak Menon

A Quatrain by Omar Khayyam Entry for December 31, 2006

Ah Love! could thou and I with Him conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
....Would not we shatter it to bits and then
Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's Desire!

...........Translation by Edward Fitzgerald in his

...........Rubiyat of Omar Khayyam

Christmas!! Written By My Incredible 90 Year Old Aunt - Entry for December 17, 2006

Christmas!!
By
Promilla Ghose
Not only today, but each day He is born anew
To help us reach our life’s measured goal;
To touch our fevered pulse and secret might imbue
For those who killed His body, could not kill His soul.
Each year He comes, not in a manger laid
On wisps of hay strewn about the place,
Or lies in the arms of a humble lowly maid
With God’s glory shining in her face.
No wise men bring their gifts of frankincense and myrrh
Nor shepherds sing their early hymns of praise,
Proud Herod sleeps, and does not move nor stir
His tryst with death is kept, cold is his gaze.
Each year He comes the Prince of Peace
And walks along Life’s road with you and me,
He lays His hands on anguished brows to cease
The turmoil of a seething world that be.
Not in lonely byways, but on broad paths of life,
In hospitals and schools, in lepers’ living graves
He puts forth His hand of solace in the strife
And cheers the falling warrior who his life’s battle braves,
He lives in human hearts when kindly words are spoken
Or cheering words of comfort that are said,
He lifts and helps a bruised life that’s broken
For only the Living can resurrect the dead.

Every one knows that you're right - just a point to ponder over

Don't steamroll anyone who happens to disagree
with you.
You're right, but you don't need to advertise it with
quite so much gusto.

UNKNOWN - A poem by me

UNKNOWN

.

He picked up the child in tender arms

The child that had been lying on the road

While thousands of people scuttled by

Not caring, not daring to add to their load

.

He ran doggedly as fast as he could

To the government hospital - Oh so far!

For he knew that it would do no good

Since his empty pockets would them bar

.

From the Doctors whose clinics lined the way

With nursing attendants in spotless white

Keeping at bay the poor, who dared to stray

Near their exhalted palaces by day or night

.

Flashes of red and green and white whizzed by

Each driven by eyes hastily averted

Ears invisibly muffed against his unuttered cry

For help, as his own dying heart blurted

.

Its fading beat into the thin cold air

Then into the hospital he somehow staggered

Helping hands lifted the child fair

He collapsed on the floor, pale and haggard

.

Weeks passed, a body for cremation was taken

From the icy morgue where it had been shown

To numberless people, who their heads had shaken

A neat label was pinned on it - UNKNOWN

. . . . . Deepak Menon

A top secret joke I heard from someone ...

TOP SECRET

You've all heard of the Air Force's ultra-high-security, super-secret base in @@@@@, known simply as "Area 51?"

Well, late one afternoon, the Air Force folks out at Area 51 were very surprised to see a Cessna landing at their "secret" base. They immediately impounded the aircraft and hauled the pilot into an interrogation room.

The pilot's story was that he took off from ******, got lost, and spotted the Base just as he was about to run out of fuel. The Air Force started a full FBI background check on the pilot and held him overnight during the investigation.

By the next day, they were finally convinced that the pilot really was lost and wasn't a spy. They gassed up his airplane, gave him a terrifying "you-did-not-see-a-base" briefing, complete with threats of spending the rest of his life in prison, told him ***** was that-a-way on such-and-such a heading, and sent him on his way.

The next day, to the total disbelief of the Air Force, the same Cessna showed up again. Once again, the MP's surrounded the plane...only this time there were two people in the plane.

The same pilot jumped out and said, "Do anything you want to me, but my wife is in the plane and you have to tell her where I was last night!"