In My Hands Today…

Posted on by
Reply

Ramayana Unravelled: Lesser Known Facets of Rishi Vālmiki’s Epic – Ami Ganatra

No epic has moved the consciousness of millions like the Ramayana. The appeal of the story of Rama is such that it has inspired the imagination of countless storytellers over the centuries, across the length and breadth of the subcontinent. From Jain poets to Bhavabhuti, from Kamban to Goswami Tulsidas, many have retold the Ramayana in their own language, infusing their own unique flavour.

Though the story of Rama is much loved and well-known, questions prevail. Ramayana Unravelled attempts to address some key concerns: How did his childhood and youth shape Rama? Why did Rama agree to go on vanvas – was it only to obey his father or was there more to it? How was the relationship of Rama and Seeta? Is the Ramayana inherently misogynist, considering the characterisation of Seeta, Shurpanakha, Kaikeyi and Tara? What led to the downfall of Ravan?

Ami Ganatra takes the reader through the events of the Ramayana, resolving conundrums and underlining the reasons the epic continues to be cherished to this day.
India

Festivals of India: Lai Haraoba

Posted on by
Reply
Source

The Lai Haraoba Festival is one of the oldest and most important events in Manipur, India. Rooted in the beliefs of the Meitei people, this festival is deeply connected to their earliest stories about the world’s creation. Every part of the festival, from its dances and music to its careful rituals, is a living link to ancient times. But it’s also a festival that keeps changing with each generation.

Lai Haraoba means “Merry-making of the Gods” or “Pleasing the Deities.” The festival started long before Hindu traditions arrived in Manipur. It goes back to a time when the Meiteis followed their own religion, Sanamahism, and honored a vast group of native deities called Umang Lai, meaning “forest gods.”

Lai Haraoba isn’t just a celebration for the gods. It’s a reenactment of the Meitei creation story. Performers act out how the world was formed: land, water, plants, animals, and humanity all came to life according to Meitei myth. And it’s not just one single deity who’s honoured. There are about 364 Umang Lai, each with their own legends and special rituals in villages and neighborhoods across Manipur.

Central to Lai Haraoba is the creation myth. In these stories, godly figures such as Sanamahi, Nongpok Ningthou, and Panthoibi are credited with creating the universe and everything within it. According to legend, the gods once performed Lai Haraoba themselves on Kubru Hill so that their descendants, humans, would know how to honour and imitate them. The rite shows how close the relationship is between the people and their deities, as well as between the residents of Manipur’s hills and plains.

Source

Much of the festival plays out the love story of Nongpok Ningthou and Panthoibi. This divine couple symbolises cosmic forces and the cycle of creation. Their courtship, love, and union are performed in ritual dance and song, showing how the world’s forces come together to create and sustain life.

There are four main types of Lai Haraoba, each with its own local traditions:

  • Kanglei Haraoba: Common in many parts of Manipur’s valley region.
  • Moirang Haraoba: Centred in Moirang.
  • Kakching Haraoba: Celebrated in Kakching.
  • Chakpa Haraoba: Held in villages like Andro, Phayeng, Sekmai, and others.

The main structure of the festival is similar everywhere, but the details, specific hymns, dances, and local customs can differ. This variety keeps the festival both rooted and flexible from one community to another.

The celebration of Lai Haraoba is carefully structured into three major parts: the beginning (Lai Eekouba), the middle (Haraoba), and the end (Lairoi). The order and number of days can vary, from just a few to more than three weeks.

Source

Opening the Shrine or Lai Eekouba: The festival starts by opening the usually locked doors of the community shrine, an action considered highly sacred. The inside is cleaned and prepared, with special songs and ritual washing of sacred objects and clothes. Sometimes, preparations start days beforehand, such as fermenting rice for rice beer, a key ritual item.

A procession led by the maibi (priestess) and sometimes maiba (male priest) heads to a river or pond. They bring sacred objects, make offerings, and invite the deity’s presence through water and chanting. The maibi might enter a trance and deliver oracles from the gods. The night ends with the pena, a traditional fiddle, playing music intended to “rest” the deities.

Source

The Ritual Dance of Creation or Laibou: Dances and rituals performed during Lai Haraoba are called laibou, meaning “work done for the gods.” These are the heart of the festival, staged before the assembled village, often near the shrine or a sacred tree. Every aspect of human life and creation is re-enacted through dance, forming the human body, birth, farming, spinning, weaving, house-building, and other necessities. Each process, even the act of drawing the baby’s eyes or forming a fist, is acted out slowly and symbolically by the maibi.

Following the creation story, the ritual dances proceed through making a house, growing and weaving cotton, and preparing clothing. At one point, fishing is performed as a symbol of adulthood and desires. All the movements are slow, careful, and filled with ancient meaning.

Music is a constant feature. The pena, a simple fiddle, is played every day, marking morning and evening rituals. There are collective songs such as the “hoi laoba” and “wakol laoba,” with all participants shouting or singing together. The maibi delivers oracles: messages said to come straight from the deities. These can include advice for the year, warnings, or encouragement.

Source

Several ritual dances have become icons of Lai Haraoba. The most significant are

  • Laiching Jagoi: Performed by maibis to “invite” the gods.
  • Khamba-Thoibi Jagoi: Tells the story of legendary lovers Khamba and Thoibi, replacing the older Panthoibi Jagoi in some places.
  • Tang Jagoi: A dance with fire and holy knives to drive out evil spirits.
  • Panthoibi Jagoi: The original romantic duet dance that honors the divine love story.

Modern celebrations can also include other folk, martial, and sometimes even Bollywood-inspired dances, adapting to today’s audiences.

The spiritual work of the festival is led by the maibi (woman priest) and maiba (man priest). Maibis, in particular, occupy a unique place as living channels between world and spirit. They lead most of the key rituals, dances, and oracles, sometimes entering trance to “speak” for the gods.

Source

Rice beer, fruits, flowers, and hand-woven cloths are common offerings. The presentation of these gifts is an important act, meant to please the deities and ensure blessings for the coming year. Each offering has its own order and significance and is usually placed on banana leaves or in traditional baskets.

The festival is not just a religious event but a key part of social life. Each family or clan takes responsibility for certain rituals or offerings, and the festival provides a place for all generations to participate, from children to elders. It’s a practical lesson in Meitei life: how to build, weave, farm, worship, and come together as a community.

The story of Nongpok Ningthou and Panthoibi is a favorite, often dramatised as a flirtatious, complex drama. Sometimes, this story is merged with other folk legends, like Khamba and Thoibi of Moirang. In some versions, Panthoibi is portrayed as a Tangkhul (hill tribe) girl, illustrating the ancient bond between the people of the hills and plains. This is just one example of how the festival weaves together history, myth, and lived experience.

Though deeply traditional, Lai Haraoba is not frozen in time. As society evolves, so do the celebrations. Some villages add new performances or blend in more accessible forms of music and dance. The use of modern lighting and sound is more common now. But the old forms still remain at the heart, especially in more remote or tradition-focused communities.

Source

During the festival, certain taboos and customs are observed, like periods of fasting or avoiding “unclean” acts. Community feasts are common, where all take part regardless of social status. Men, women, and children all join in some aspect of the ritual or celebration. And while the festival is religious, it’s also a time for courtship, gossip, settling disputes, and reinforcing social norms.

Lai Haraoba usually happens in the spring and summer, following the local lunar calendar. It can be held at any one of the many neighborhood shrines dedicated to an Umang Lai, so multiple celebrations may happen across Manipur at once, or even, nowadays, in other parts of India and among the Manipuri diaspora.

Lai Haraoba is more than ritual; it’s Manipur’s living cultural memory. It teaches the origins of life, the skills for survival, and the values to live by. Some see it as a form of community education, where children learn through watching, imitating, and participating.

And yet, the festival doesn’t ignore reality. There is room for fun, for complaints, and even for critical jokes about the village’s leaders. It holds both the grave and the playful. For as long as the festival is kept, the past remains present, and Manipur’s stories continue to unfold.

In My Hands Today…

Posted on by
Reply

The Mughal Throne – Abraham Eraly

A history of the great Mughal rulers of India, one of the world’s greatest empires.

In December 1525 Babur, the great grandson of the Mongol conqueror Tamberlaine, crossed the Indus river into the Punjab with a modest army and some cannon. At the battle of Panipat five months later he routed the mammoth army of the Afghan ruler of Hindustan. Mughal rule in India had begun. It was to continue for over three centuries, shaping India for all time.

Full of dramatic episodes and colourful detail, THE MUGHAL EMPIRE tells the story of one of the world’s great empires.

May the Fourth Be With You: How Star Wars Day Became More Than a Meme

Posted on by
Reply
Source

Every year on May 4th, the world collectively says, “May the Fourth be with you.” It’s clever wordplay that turned into a cultural holiday. But behind the puns and costumes, Star Wars Day says something deeper about modern culture, nostalgia, and the way we build meaning around shared stories. What began as a lighthearted fan celebration has become a global event with different meanings: commercial, nostalgic, and even philosophical. The question is what this day really celebrates now, and whether the spirit of Star Wars itself still lives in it.

The Origin of a Galactic Pun
The phrase “May the Fourth Be With You” didn’t start as a fan joke. It first appeared in 1979 in a British newspaper headline congratulating Margaret Thatcher on becoming Prime Minister. “May the Fourth Be With You, Maggie. Congratulations,” it read. The line caught on in fan circles later, long before Disney or Lucasfilm tried to make it official. Star Wars fans embraced it because it was playful. It showed that the language of Star Wars had moved from the screen into everyday talk. It wasn’t just a set of movies anymore; it was part of the culture’s shared vocabulary.

When a Joke Became a Holiday
By the early 2000s, May the Fourth events started appearing in fan communities, online and off. Fans met to watch marathons, wear costumes, and share memes. Nobody needed official permission. That was the charm; it belonged to the people who loved Star Wars, not to the studio. But Disney saw the movement growing fast online. After buying Lucasfilm in 2012, Disney began promoting Star Wars Day on social media and in stores. Suddenly, it wasn’t just fan-made; it was part of the marketing calendar. There were “official” celebrations, product launches, and special events at Disney parks. The same pun that united a quirky fan base had become a brand tool.

Source

Can a Corporate Holiday Still Be Sincere?
This is where it gets tricky. Some fans argue that May the Fourth lost its spirit once it became controlled. The homemade feel disappeared under the weight of corporate design. There’s a tension between what fans create and what companies package for sale. Does buying limited-edition merchandise or streaming another spinoff still count as celebrating Star Wars, or is it just spending money under the guise of fandom?

But the truth isn’t one-sided. You can’t blame companies for recognising value in what people love. And it’s not as though fans were ever completely separate from business. Even in 1977, Star Wars was a commercial phenomenon. Toys, posters, and collectables drove its success. Today, the same thing happens on May the Fourth — just with more precision. What’s new is the scale, not the impulse.

Star Wars as Modern Myth
To understand why Star Wars Day works, you have to see Star Wars as a new kind of myth. It’s not just entertainment; it’s a shared symbolic world. It has heroes, villains, moral struggles, and spiritual ideas about balance and destiny. People use those myths to understand themselves, just as our ancestors once used ancient stories.

Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces inspired George Lucas when he wrote the original trilogy. Campbell’s idea was that all myths share a similar pattern, a hero’s journey of loss, challenge, and transformation. Star Wars became the most visible modern retelling of that pattern. In that sense, Star Wars Day isn’t just about fandom. It’s a modern ritual for reconnecting with that myth.

But if that’s true, what does it mean that the ritual now runs through corporate channels? Can a myth survive when it’s owned and franchised? Or does the myth adapt and stay alive by changing its form? Maybe both are true at once. Star Wars may be mass media, but the emotions it stirs are still personal.

Source

A Day of Nostalgia
Many people celebrate May the Fourth less out of devotion and more out of memory. It’s nostalgia, comfort in something familiar. For older fans, it recalls a simpler time when they first saw the movies. For younger ones, it’s part of a world they’ve inherited. The franchise has managed to bridge generations, even as debates about its direction never end.

Nostalgia is not always bad. It can connect people across time. But it can also trap them in the past. Star Wars often struggles with that very tension. honouring history without repeating it endlessly. The prequels, sequels, and spin-offs have all wrestled with what it means to move forward while staying true to the old myth. Star Wars Day mirrors that same struggle. Some want it to stay a fan celebration of the old films; others see it as an evolving, living story.

Fandom as a Modern Religion
Watch how people celebrate May the Fourth and you’ll see something that looks like faith. There are rituals, quoting lines, dressing as Jedi, and debating canon. There are sacred texts — the films, comics, and shows. There are heresies — directors who “get it wrong.” Fans discuss the moral themes with intensity usually reserved for scripture. The difference is that this faith has no clergy, only communities connected by shared emotion.

Some would say that’s a flaw, that we’ve traded real belief for pop culture worship. Maybe. But maybe it’s just how belief works now, decentralised, flexible, symbolic. People need stories that give shape to good and evil, light and dark, hope and despair. Star Wars gave that to millions. May the Fourth gives them a way to express it collectively, even if it’s through memes and hashtags.

Source

The Irony of “The Force”
Star Wars often warns against the pull of the Dark Side: anger, fear, control. Yet the industry behind it leans on those exact forces: marketing manipulation, scarcity, hype. The irony is not lost on thinking fans. They see the contradiction between the films’ message and the corporate behaviour that sustains them.

Still, fans participate willingly. Nobody forces them to line up for new releases or debate them online. The Force, in this metaphor, might just be consumer passion, uncontrolled and unpredictable. And like the Force, it can be used for good or harm. It can create genuine community, or it can fuel toxicity and tribalism. May the Fourth bring both sides to light.

The Global Reach
Star Wars Day isn’t tied to religion, nation, or class. It’s global, spanning languages and cultures. A child in Tokyo, a teacher in Canada, or a mechanic in Nairobi can all celebrate the same thing. For one day, online spaces become more unified than usual. That matters. In a world divided by politics and ideology, a shared cultural language, even one built around space wizards, becomes a form of peace. It reminds people that imagination is one of the few universal human experiences.

Of course, that doesn’t mean everyone sees Star Wars the same way. The movies themselves are shaped by Western concepts of good and evil, empire and rebellion. When you export those stories globally, they carry those ideas too. Some cultures relate, others reinterpret. That reinterpretation is a kind of creative resistance. Fans build their own meanings; a small rebellion against the empire of corporate authorship.

Source

The Cultural Lifespan of a Meme
Every cultural symbol evolves. Memes start as jokes and end up shaping identity. Star Wars Day is a meme that became a holiday. But memes fade. They rely on freshness and relevance. The question is whether May the Fourth will eventually become hollow, a routine gesture like “Talk Like a Pirate Day.” For now, it survives because the underlying story still resonates.

The day continues to renew itself through new generations of fans. Each trilogy or show brings another wave of people discovering it for the first time. The meme has roots in something stable: a story about courage, friendship, and faith. That’s why it has lasted when most movie-based phenomena die off after a decade.

Star Wars as a Mirror
Part of Star Wars’ appeal is that it reflects whatever you want to see. For some, it’s political: rebellion against tyranny. For others, it’s spiritual — balance and redemption. For some, it’s simply an adventure. That flexibility keeps it relevant. May the Fourth mirrors that adaptability. It’s different things to different people: a joke, a dress-up day, a form of belonging.

But that flexibility can weaken meaning, too. If everything is Star Wars, nothing is. When every emotion and opinion fits under the banner of “the Force,” the idea loses weight. Real belief requires tension, the push and pull between light and dark. Star Wars Day risks becoming too comfortable, too commercial, too easy.

What It Could Be About
Maybe the real way to celebrate Star Wars Day isn’t buying another collectable, but revisiting what made these stories matter. The original films weren’t about spectacle alone; they were about hope under oppression, trust in unseen forces, and courage from the powerless. Those ideas remain potent in any era. We could use more of that spirit outside the screen, in politics, in work, in daily life. Belief in the Force can be metaphorical: faith that we are connected, that right action matters even when unseen.

If May the Fourth helps people remember those values, then it’s doing something meaningful. If not, it’s just another shopping event. The line between the two depends on how people choose to participate. Every fan has the power to make it more than a meme.

Even if you’re not a Star Wars fan, you can appreciate what it represents. A story told almost fifty years ago still inspires awe and debate. That’s rare. Star Wars Day shows how a piece of fiction can outgrow its creator and take on a life of its own. It’s not sacred in the religious sense, but it has sacred reach, something that connects people across space and time.

I often think about how the world would look if we treated real life with the same moral curiosity we bring to Star Wars. We debate who was right: Anakin or Obi-Wan, but ignore our own rationalisations for harm. We praise the Rebels for fighting the Empire, but stay silent about modern systems of control. Maybe that’s why we love watching others fight tyranny on screen: it saves us from having to do it ourselves. May the Fourth could be a reminder not just to honour fictional courage, but to practice real courage.

Source

Beyond the Franchise
Eventually, Star Wars will end, or at least slow down. The cultural saturation can’t last forever. But the ideas beneath it will survive. Myths always do. The Force will find new forms, new generations, new stories. When that happens, May the Fourth might become less about a specific franchise and more about the enduring power of shared storytelling. A day for remembering that imagination shapes how people live, resist, and hope. That’s bigger than Star Wars. It’s about being human.

2026 Week 18 Update

Posted on by
Reply

In this quote, British statesman, writer, and Prime Minister of the United Kingdom during World War II, Winston Churchill, highlights how perspective shapes experience. The situation itself may be the same, but how we interpret it determines how we respond to it. A pessimist tends to focus on what could go wrong. Even when an opportunity appears, they may see the risks, the effort required, or the possibility of failure, and feel discouraged before they even begin. This mindset can lead to hesitation, missed chances, and a sense of being stuck. On the other hand, an optimist doesn’t ignore difficulty but chooses to look beyond it. They recognise challenges, yet also ask, “What can I learn from this? What might this lead to? This shift in thinking opens the door to action.

The quote is not suggesting blind positivity or denying reality. Rather, it is about orientation. When faced with difficulty, an optimistic mindset looks for possibilities within the problem. This often leads to resilience, creativity, and forward movement. Over time, this approach can create momentum because each challenge becomes part of growth rather than a barrier to it. There is also a deeper implication: we have more control over our outlook than we realise. While we cannot always control circumstances, we can influence how we interpret and respond to them. That choice shapes not only our actions but also our sense of hope and progress.

This week, the Bhagavad Gita tells us that devotion begins with steadiness. The Gita does not describe the devotee as dramatic or outwardly expressive. It describes someone whose presence does not unsettle others and who is not unsettled by circumstances. This is a discipline of temperament; it is emotional restraint, and it is composure in praise and in provocation. To live without agitating the world through ego, volatility, or excess reaction is itself a form of worship. Devotion is not intensity; it is equilibrium.

This week was very hectic with work. GG is busy with her internship and thinking about her next semester at school. As for BB, we are at the brink of accepting that he will not be getting a university offer this year. So our plan is that he will look for a job and start working, and then, hopefully, in the next year or so, apply again and hopefully get in that time. Fingers crossed this plan works out.

Source

Our motivation this week is about imperfect love. Love is not perfect, nor is it always easy. But it is always worth it. If you have people who show up despite the obstacles and respond from a place of genuine care, do everything in your power to keep them in your life. No matter where we come from or what we’ve experienced in life, we all long to be seen and deeply understood. Create space for your loved ones to express their vulnerability. It is in those raw moments that true connection is built. Nurture the genuine connections in your life with gratitude and presence. Letting love in is worth the risk.

That’s all I have for you this week. Take care, stay safe, and keep smiling!