Hebrew (עִבְרִית, ‘Ivrit) is a Semitic language of the Afro-Asiatic language family spoken by more than seven million people in Israel and Jewish communities around the world.

My fascination for the religion particularly the Hebrew chants dawned with Madonnas number Isaac*.Neat one.I didnt realise it was Hebrew in the first place.The chant sounded like the songs these boatsmen down south of India hum when they return home in the auspicious presence of biding adieu to the glorious cluster of fire.

*{hebrew chants}

Im ninalu (if they were locked)

Daltey Nadivim (doors of the generous)

Daltey NadivimDaltey Marom (doors on high)

Im ninalu

Staring up into the heavens

In this hell that binds your hands

Will you sacrifice your comfort?Make your way in a foreign land?

Wrestle with your darknessAngels call your name

Can you hear what they are saying?

Will you ever be the same?

MmmmmmIm ninalu Im ninaluMmmmmmIm ninalu Im ninalu

Remember remember and never forget

All of your life has all been a test

You will find the gate that's open

Even though your spirit's broken

Open up my heart

And cause my lips to speak

Bring the heaven and the stars

Down to earth for me

Im ninaluDaltey NadivimMmmmmmIm ninalu Im ninaluMmmmmmIm ninalu

Im ninaluMmmmmmIm ninalu im ninalu MmmmmmIm ninalu Im ninalu

El- Hay (god is alive)

El- Hay Marumam Al Keruvim (god is alive, elevated upon cherubs)

Kulam Be-Ruho Ya'alu (everybody in his spirit will rise)

Wrestle with your darkness

Angels call your name

Can you hear what they are saying?

Will you ever be the same?

MmmmmmIm ninalu Im ninaluMmmmmmIm ninalu

Im ninaluMmmmmmIm ninalu im ninaluMmmmmm

Im ninalu Im ninaluEl- Hay (god is alive)El- Hay Marumam Al Keruvim (god is alive, elevated upon cherubs)[Spoken part]



Confession: I have used the word 'slut' whilst referring to another woman.
I have regretted using it.
In fact, I regretted using it within ten seconds of it having escaped my lips. It wasn't about what she wore. I wore less. It wasn't about make-up. She used none. In retrospect, it was about anger, and a shade of envy.This is about four years ago--
I was sitting around with a couple of young male friends. They were talking about the difficulty of getting girls to attend parties. They asked me, half joking, if I could get them through to some girls.And stupidly, sanctimously, I shrugged and said, 'I don't know any girls who'd go out partying with strangers. Well, maybe I know one. She's a bit of a slut.'The boys reacted unexpectedly. They exchanged glances and one said 'Shhh. Don't ever use that word for a woman.'
My humiliation has rarely been so complete as it was in that instant.What had been going on in my mind? Did I disrespect girls who went out with boys too soon? But I too have hung out with men, when introduced through other friends. What did I disrespect about the girl?
It took years for me to figure out what and why. I envied the girl a little. She did what she wanted. She seemed not to be afraid of being judged by her family or other people like me. It is a different story that a lot of her recklessness and defiance was rooted in her fear of being judged by her own city-bred peers, of not 'fitting in' in glamourous circles. But I did not judge her because of her fears; I judged her because of mine.
There was another reason why I was so flippantly moralistic. The man who shushed me had not been paying enough attention to me. And I craved his attention. I wanted to win his approval, somehow. To show that I was better than those 'easy' girls he hung out with. After all, all my life, I had been told that men like girls who play hard-to-get; that they respect girls with the hands-off approach.Unfortunately, the effect was opposite to the one desired. But the good thing was that I was immediately chastened, and flung into self-reflection. Here was a man I liked and, in an uncomprehending, instinctive fashion, respected. And whose respect I may have lost.I began to think about why I respected him - not because he partied, not because he swore and provoked and argued. Perhaps, because he was one of the few men I'd met who was neither awkward around me, nor aggressively friendly. He seemed to ask nothing of me and never crossed any lines - physical or social. And never once did I fear either him or his morality.
Never again has the word slut crossed my lips, or even my mind.
In fact, when a bunch of us journalists were outside a restaurant, an acquaintance leaned over and whispered - 'See those girls? They're sluts!' - I was surprised.
The women being referred to were in tight jeans, skirts and halter tops, lots of mascara, no male escorts.I asked, 'How do you know?''It's obvious.'I simply noted that the clothes were very smart, and considered asking them where they shopped. 'See! They're waiting to get picked up,' she continued.
'Are they?' I said, in a deliberately bored voice, and turned away.

Courtesy :- blanknoiseproject.blogspot.com


Did you say Gen-gap?!

I bet we all did.
I want you to open a savings account with the LIC agent.He's my cousin's daughter's son-in-law.So, no worries kusu.I know the guy.(WOW! we are connected to another person on the planet by less than 6 people. awesome.)
I will only say this once.Try and get it.I wouldnt like to explain things in detail(whew!can catch up wid some indigo!!)
Look,the things that society says these days about women empowerment,gender-equality, female property rights ivvella bari shoki mathu.The parliament passed the bill,it went through the rituals of yes/no/maybe/who cares/what about us?/what,what abt u?/blah/blah/ and tediously materialised into one of the laws you read abt in the Indian Constitution.
Sure.But thats where it will be.The popular problem of delay of execution.
Likewise,you hear people talk all the things that women would like to hear.
Did you notice them walk their talk. Illa kusu,that dont happen.
So, you get what I mean? Only you can and should rely on yourself in every other sense.
Especially the finances. (Grinning I raise both eyebrows)
Come to think of it. My thatha wasnt born anywhere after 1930.


My ears went dumb
to the beat o My heart;
I'd already started doing 'the' thing
what with all the bling.
the lights had gotten used to..
forever shining over My head
they'd do it 'ven if I were dead.
there was always a smile on my lips,
And My heart was...by my mind..eclipsed.
I enter the hall o fame
the lights that blind My eyes seem very nice.
My friends are worth 'er a billion
ah! but so Am I
look,Muh sashay gives it 'way! (wot did you say?)
its Me here,Me there..
in the print..
bout the wedding ring..,the assaults..,
and My lifestyle being the way
the lights...they do really blind my eyes...
someone takes over..now...in guise
Ive lived all of my life...blinded.
Blinded, by the blinding lights.