SPEED READING, ANYONE? #WRITEAPAGEADAY #BLOGCHATTER

                                                        Teaching Expertise 

I cannot imagine a time when I did not read. I have ancestors who read, grandparents and parents who read and wrote, and sisters who devour books by the dozen. Reading was what got me married as well. My future husband impressed me when he walked into our home library, where I was a stern librarian when I was not at college. He borrowed two or three books a day, and returned them the next, only to grab a few more after.

                                                              Clipart Librarian

School and college days were when we had no other worries. All we had to do was study well, play games and improve on our hobbies. No cooking, cleaning, ironing, only maybe running an errand or two, and then we were free to pursue our other interests.

In my case, my top ‘other interest’ was reading. We already had a library with over a thousand books. My mother loved browsing in bookshops, a habit that was contagious as all three of us, her daughters, promptly followed suit. Most of the next generation also loved reading, but by that time, physical books had almost been replaced by e-books which took up no space at all, but could be carried around with ease. Kindles, e-readers, tablets and the Kindle app on devices – all these were created to make life easier for voracious readers.

Unfortunately, now that we had books at our fingertips, there was another element that seemed to have vanished from our lives – Time. Life came in the way and with the numerous balls we were all juggling in the air, the one area that suffered, sadly, was the reading habit. There was a time when I was working in school all day, attending family welfare meets and official parties till late in the night. That was when I realised that if I wanted to carry on reading, I would have to make changes in the way I managed grand old Father Time.

Which finally brings me to the topic I am writing on today. Speed reading, anyone?

What is speed reading?

     

   Quora

“Speed reading is the process of rapidly recognizing and absorbing phrases or sentences on a page all at once, rather than identifying individual words.”  

How does one speed read and yet, comprehend what one is reading? A few tips that I read somewhere seemed to provide the answer.

a.     Stop Subvocalizing. Do not read the words in your head. That is how we all learn to read at the Kindergarten level, but in the meantime, we slow down to less than 300 words a minute, which is a snail’s pace. Instead, stop that voice in your head, and let your eyes skim through the text. Your brain will comprehend and the words will make sense.

b.     Take in chunks of words and phrases instead of one laborious word at a time. The eye span is recorded as 1.5 inches long, which makes it possible for you to read around nine words at a time. Interesting, right? Skimming through and landing on every fifth word may be a good idea.

c.     Sometimes, you tend to read, and then go back to re-read portions. This slows down the reading process immensely. One way to avoid this is to take in the sense of a complete passage without regressing or back-tracking. The enjoyment is in the whole story, not getting stuck in places and not moving on. Veteran readers suggest three methods to avoid getting mired in the literary morass.

The Pointer Method: Evelyn Neilsen Wood, an Utah school teacher, was a pioneer who used her pointer finger to sweep along the lines she read. It is claimed that she could read 2700 words per minute. This is referred to as the Pointer method, and sometimes ‘hand pacing’ and ‘meta guiding’. You could also use a card under each line and keep going down the page so that you are not tempted to go back.

The Tracker and Pacer Method: Another effective method is to hold a pen with its cap on, and trace or track the lines you read, keeping the words above the tip of the pen. It is vital that you move along the lines and increase your speed as you traverse the pages. The brain soon gets used to the idea and begins to comprehend faster.

The Preview or the Scanning Method: This is when you move your eyes down the page, concentrating on the key items, identifying specific words and phrases as you go down. Expanding your peripheral vision can help in this, and you will be able to take in all that is relevant enough to comprehend the basic idea.

What are the disadvantages of Speed Reading?

Why do you read? Is it for enjoyment and comprehension? Then speed reading may not be the ideal method. Are you a student or a learner trying to comprehend a text? Again, speed reading can hamper your progress as you may miss out on key ideas. The same is the case when you are perusing a legal or technical document or a business agreement where the fine print matters more than the actual text. The faster you read, the more details you miss out. Hence, it is all dependent on the matter you are reading.

However, in general, if you can increase the speed of your reading, you will be able to cover more books and widen your horizon. In case you are up to a few more quick tips, here you go:

1.     Find a quiet spot and avoid distraction.

2.     Begin with an uncomplicated book to see how effective the process is. Set a timer so that you know how many words per minute you are covering.

3.     Get familiar with the text by skimming across paragraphs, and concentrate on the significant parts.

4.     Do not go back or regress. Cover the lines you have already finished.

5.     Practice makes perfect. Train your mind to speed read till it becomes a natural process.

 References:

chttps://www.mindtools.com/aokg6bn/speed-reading `

https://bookriot.com/5-tips-read-faster-without-losing-comprehension/

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Marq 

COW APPRECIATION DAY! OR MAYBE NOT! #WRITEAPAGEADAY #BLOGCHATTER

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Valentine’s day is round the corner, a day which has attained significance over the past decade, maybe. It is a day dedicated to red hearts, romance and love, a day that has crept in from the West, despite our very own Indian occasions like Karwa Chauth in most of the North of India and Thiruvathira in Kerala when wives fast for the long life of their husbands.

The origin of this colourful day is attributed to Saint Valentine who was supposed to have secretly performed marriage ceremonies, defying the Emperor’s orders, so that the newly wed husbands would not have to go to war. The festival may also have its origins in the Roman feast of Lupercalia, which was a celebration of the advent of spring, ending with fertility rites after a lottery in which women and men were paired off. Yet another unhappy tale speaks of an imprisoned priest named Valentine who cured a young girl, his jailor’s daughter, of blindness. It is suggested that he wrote a letter to the girl, maybe assuming that she would be grateful for the miracle, signing it as ‘your Valentine’. Unhappily, he was martyred in the end, which actually should have cast a gloomy shade over the festival.

Instead, a profusion of greeting cards, ribbons, Cupid figurines, candy and red roses blossom every year on the 14^th of February, turning this day into a extravaganza of full blown romance. Girls blush in the hope of receiving gifts from their beaus, boys stand in line to woo their maidens. Of course, there are the naysayers who hate the sight of the mush and the florid sentiment and end up cracking down on stores that sell all the paraphernalia and waylaying young lovers who are trying to pour out their hearts to one another.

                                                                 iStock Photo

This year was supposed to see a different kind of love expressed in India where the Animal Welfare Board had asked its citizens to celebrate ‘Cow Hug’ Day to better promote Hindu values. Their claim was that embracing the cow would not only foster “emotional richness”, but also increase “individual and collective happiness”. Before they could actually test the idea out, the Board withdrew their appeal, perhaps due to the hundreds of jokes and memes that erupted. As one read, “Jokes apart, cow hugging has benefits. However, the cow must know you too.”

India Today proclaimed – “No Cow Hug Day. You can hug cows, with consent, on any day.”

                                                                       Pinterest

The cow has been called Kamdhenu and Gaumata, terms of endearment, over the decades, a symbolic mother to all those who venerate her. As she grazes on grass, chewing the cud, her beautiful bovine eyes staring into nothingness, imagine her shock when suddenly, she is accosted by a crowd of huggers trying to reach out and get their share of emotional richness and individual happiness. The natural impulse of any panic-stricken creature would be to rear back, direct kicks or gore the intruders. Like I said earlier, you can hug cows, with consent!

                                                                       India Today

Before the appeal was withdrawn, another idea was ‘moo’ted, that of creating a cow sanctuary to round up stray cattle and house them so that cow huggers could make a beeline towards them and hug them under one roof, rather than hunting around for them on roads and creating traffic jams for all those rushing to buy red roses and hearts for the love of their lives. Priorities are priorities, after all!

Last week, I had gone on a short trip with my sisters and mother. We stayed at a resort and spent time chatting, discussing, arguing… doing everything that a close-knit family does. I guess people have always had cows on their mind. There was actually a frieze work of two cows on one of the outer walls of our rooms.

                                                         Photo Courtesy: Deepti Menon 

The next cow that I encountered was on a trek that we undertook. It was a tiny little creature, tied to a tree. I have always been fascinated by dogs, cats and cows. This one was a calf and as I attempted to make conversation with it, it looked at me with suspicion lurking in its large eyes, and moved away rapidly as I stretched a hand out towards it. Cows are skittish creatures, and it is probably safer not to hug them, unless, as aforementioned, they know you.

                                                   Photo courtesy: Deepti Menon

Finally, it is better not to get cowed down by the different kinds of cows that exist – the cash cows, the farmyard cows, the sacred cows, and especially, the holy cows.

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As the inimitable Ogden Nash put it, “The cow is of the bovine ilk; one end is moo, the other, milk.”

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IN THE MIDST OF GREEN TREES - #WRITEAPAGEADAY #BLOGCHATTER

 

The Athirappilly waterfalls have always had their charm, right from when we were children, skipping from stone to stone, and wading through the water along with friends and family members. Many were the trips we had undertaken, and carefree ones at that. Those days, we had no qualms in getting wet, falling into little water bodies or screaming for all we were worth when the water chilled our very bones.

So when my two sisters and I decided to take our octogenarian mother for a trip, it most certainly had to be Athirappilly itself. The hotel was all set to welcome a mother and her three toddlers, till we broke the news that the mother in question was 85, and her daughters in their fifties and early sixties.

The first sight of ‘Green Trees’ left us with a feeling of being in the midst of verdant nature. In fact, that is their tag line – “One With Nature’. The large wooden gate opened to a vista of tall bamboos that led to the reception festooned with colourful upholstery and bright cushions to offset the green outside.

Green Trees has a total of fifteen rooms, situated on different levels with steep steps leading to every set of rooms. The swimming pool lies directly below the rooms, and on the other side is a breath-taking view of the hills which are supposed to boast of a tiny waterfall or two. In the absence of those, the hotel has set up its own little cascade which comes on at the touch of a switch.

The staff of Green Trees were all friendly and welcoming. The day we reached there, we were practically the only visitors, and since we were naturally loud and exuberant, we certainly made a difference in the vicinity breaking the silence at so many levels. There was an entry in the register which asked for one’s birthday, and I joked about getting a cake even if there were no birthdays in sight.

To my astonishment, the next thing we saw was a special cake just for us, which my mother cut obligingly, as we stood on the stone patio, leaning against the railings below which was a deep pool swarming with shoals of fish. That was a sweet gesture and made us all fall in love with the place even more. 

One of the walls had a slate grey mural of two cows, very apt as cows seem to be the reigning creatures who are slated to even take over Valentine’s Day this month.

We had asked for one room for the four of us since we wanted to spend quality time together. Two extra mattresses did the trick, and the air conditioning was put on and off, according to Mom’s whims. It was a treat to stroll around the property on day 1, where we posed for photographs at every nook, ending up playing table tennis and foosball. By twilight, it was quiet all around since only two rooms were booked, and an eerie silence prevailed.

Since we had reached the resort only around three in the afternoon, we were all ravenous. The food was delicious, and we complimented the chef. Lovely tawa parathas, rich butter chicken, dal tadka, prawn fry and a pulao for lunch made our day. We were so stuffed that dinner was just sweet corn chicken soup and Hakka noodles.

The dining room décor was chic, with coffee quotes on the wall that made us smile. The furniture was smart, with black chairs and glass tables offset by a floor resplendent with rust tiles. From where we sat, we could see the greenery outside through the glass wall that faced the hills.

Day 2 saw the three of us going on a short trek with a gentleman who doubled up as pool cleaner and tourist guide. Mom decided to stay back and watch her Hindi serial on her tablet.

The said guide seemed to know the origin of every plant in the vicinity. We walked down to the water body as his conversation echoed in our ears. The place seemed a haven for medicinal plants.  As we got to the water, we realise that we were no longer as spry as we had been in our teens. While the littlest one of us stayed back to click photographs, the two of us stumbled into the water, trying not to slip as we crawled across. Finally, we both grabbed the hand of our guide, who seemed rather sheepish, and crawled a bit more. In ten minutes, our trek was done, much to the relief of our guide.

Our appetite was back and once again, the food was delicious – tawa parathas, chicken, tadka dal and some fresh lime soda to rejuvenate us after the so-called trek! The only part of the meal that was disappointing were the desserts. There was only ice cream, which we had to turn down as three out of four of us had sore throats. The other option was fruit salad, again not a favourite. We suggested that they should add tender coconut pudding the next time around.

The charm of Green Trees is its serenity and quaintness. On Day 2, many more rooms were occupied, and the crowd swelled. There were people gambolling in the pool, and yet, the feeling of solitariness continued. There was a gym for all those who wanted to work out, a children's area and a recreation room with various indoor games as well. 

The biggest plus point, we all felt, was the friendliness of the staff who went all out to make us feel comfortable. After all, isn’t that what matters in the long run? As Maya Angelou put it,

“I have learnt that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

 Pictures: Courtesy Deepti Menon

The main Athirappilly Falls around 2 kms away from Green Trees Resort, Athirappilly

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FRIENDSHIP #WRITEAPAGEADAY #BLOGCHATTER

                                                               India.com

“In the sweetness of friendship, let there be laughter, for in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.” Khalil Gibran

What would this world be without friends? Something akin to an arid desert, bereft of moments of joy and sheer fun. Today, my husband and I got back from Mumbai, after having attended the wedding of the son of close friends. The relationship we have with our friends is unparalleled. The young man is also extremely dear to us. Our daughter and he were friends, and still are. As she was older, she would take care of him, even bully him at times for he was like her little brother. They would share sandwiches, she would make him drink up her glass of milk, she would go over and be pampered by his parents and the bond they shared was special.

Today the young man has found his perfect partner, one who will love and cherish him the way he does her. The wedding was beautiful and as they both repeated their vows with fervour, the world looking on smiled and softly said,

“At this special juncture, may they be in love forever, and may they also be best friends for life.”

This poem is for them both, this lovely couple, and for our friends as well who have gained a daughter. Here’s to friendship, to love, to companionship and to perfect bliss.

Like a glow-worm that flickers its beacon light

Off and on, across the pitch dark field,

Just a glimmer, like a drop of gold

On a rich velvet backdrop.

It shows for a minute, then disappears,

Kindles itself at a different spot;

Feeling elusive, yet friendly

Like that hand that waves briefly

That faint quicksilver smile, that warms the heart,

That flash of kinship between two strangers,

Strangers no more;

The bond that is built up

Into an eternity of friendship.

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A PSALM OF LIFE - #WRITEAPAGEADAY #BLOGCHATTER

What the Heart of the Young Man Said to the Psalmist

SoundCloud 

I have an affinity for poetry that maybe came out of my association with my grandparents and parents, all of whom loved literature in one way or the other. My mother still holds nuggets of poetry in her mind, even at the age of 85, and brings in apt quotes into her talks, whenever she feels the need to wax eloquent.

When I was in the ninth standard, I was introduced to the poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, by my grandfather who was responsible for many such introductions to great minds. He suggested that I learn some of Longfellow’s poems by heart and that is when I stumbled on ‘The Psalm of Life’, a poem that has become a guidepost in my life, a poem that never fails to astonish me with its nuggets of wisdom every time I pause. 

Maybe, I was a tad too young to realise the gravity of the following lines which spoke of how time is flying by and our hearts are marching towards the grave. Yet, I did take in the truth that Art, like Music, Literature and Dance outlive their creators and stay on to gladden the hearts of all those who appreciate them. 

Art is long and Time is fleeting,

 And our hearts though stout and brave,

Still like muffled drums are beating

Funeral marches to the grave. 

This poem continued to be a friend to me each time I needed a hand in need. When I was diffident, this verse pepped me up.

Trust no future, howe’er pleasant,

                                              Let the dead Past bury its dead.

                                               Act – act in the living present

Heart within, and God o’erhead. 

However, it was when I grew up and decided to be a writer that the poem spoke to me. Two verses etched themselves on my imagination, the letters shining bright, and to be honest, my reasons for writing, apart from the fact that words are my very life, stem from them. 

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time.

Footprints that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing shall take heart again. 

The final stanza has always worked like an anthem in my life. It exhorts us all to do whatever we do with dedication and enthusiasm, and continue to act, excel and live on with patience and hope.

 Let us then be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate,

Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labor and to wait.

                                                                      Pinterest

The link below has the whole poem - A Psalm of Life.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rkIi68Ijk8I

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A PATCH OF RED - #WRITEAPAGEADAY #BLOGCHATTER

                                                          Shutterstock

“Mom, you’re the best!” Surya smiled at his mother, throwing his arms around her in a bear hug. It had always been like that from the day he was born. As he looked up at her with his large black eyes, Nirmala had fallen in love. In love with her baby boy, who had come after two daughters, as though to capture her heart in his tiny, pink-tipped fingers.

His sisters, Reena and Shaina, too doted on him. There had never been any sibling rivalry for he had been too winsome. The household pivotted around the handsome young boy who grew up into a strapping young man. His father, Ramachandran, had always been the strict one, but Surya managed to twist even him around his little finger.

As the years went by, the girls finished college and took up jobs. Reena was a college lecturer while Shaina went into fashion designing. Surya had made up his mind that he would go into the Army, much against the wishes of his mother. Nirmala did not want him to move too far away from her. It was as if her life revolved around her son, and even her husband took second place.

Unfortunately for Surya, he could not get through the gruelling Physicals in the Army selection and hence, he had to opt for Plan B. He put his heart and soul into his studies and finished as the topper in his college. He got placed in a prestigious company and was slated for great things.

His parents and sisters were proud of him and secretly, Nirmala was relieved that he had not got into the Army. At least he still lived at home, and she could still cook him his favourite meals and take care of him the way she had always done. At least till he got married, of course! After that there was no way of knowing whether his wife would approve.

“Of course, we must get him a nice girl who will understand him!” Nirmala remarked to Ramachandran who just nodded. He knew what she was implying. Get him married to a nice, tractable girl who would fit into the family instead of trying to take him away from them all.

Many proposals came and went. No girl seemed good enough for Surya, according to his mother. Some were not attractive enough, others were too good looking, still others were not from the right family background. Nirmala seemed to find a reason for rejecting them all. Surya too had begun wondering if he would ever find a girl for himself.

One day, Nirmala and Surya were getting home in an auto after a bout of grocery shopping when they saw a crowd ahead.

“What do you think is the matter?” she asked the auto driver.

“I think there has been an accident,” he replied, craning his neck to check.

As they looked on, the crowd parted as an ambulance rushed to the spot. On the road lay a couple in a patch of red, a patch that was spreading rapidly. A scooter lay overturned by the side. The accident had occurred when a lorry had tried to overtake the scooter and having lost control, had swerved onto it. Surya wanted to get down, but before he did, the wounded couple had been shifted into the ambulance.

As they passed the spot, Nirmala shuddered at the patch of red. It was all she could do to avert her eyes and send up a silent prayer for the couple who had been hurt. "I don't think I will ever forget that patch of red!" she whispered to Surya, who nodded, his face grave.

********

The months went by. Nirmala and Ramachandran were still looking for girls for Surya, who, on the other hand, seemed to have lost interest in matrimony. This time, he refused to even look at the photographs of any of the girls whose proposals arrived, time and again. Finally, one day, Nirmala sat him down.

“Surya, aren’t you interested in settling down?”

The boy looked at her with a smile. A smile that sent a frisson of unease through her.

“I am, mother. However, I need to tell you something.”

Nirmala’s heart skipped a beat. What was her son trying to tell her? Did he have a different bent of mind? She clutched at her heart, as the feeling of unease travelled right up to her temples.

“Son, please stop this suspense. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Surya nodded. He took her hand which was as cold as ice.

“Mom, I do have someone in my life, someone whom I want you to meet. Shall we go out for lunch tomorrow? You can meet my special someone then.”

That was the worst night Nirmala had ever spent. The next morning, she was like a limp rag, exhausted because she had not been able to sleep a wink.

*********

The next afternoon, they were all seated in one of the more popular restaurants. Ramachandran was busy studying the menu as Nirmala chewed at her fingernails, trying not to appear desperate. Where was Surya? He was supposed to have got here twenty minutes ago.

Suddenly, the door swung open and there he was, her handsome son, walking towards her with a smile. She closed her eyes for a moment, dreading the moment when she would be confronted with the truth.

“Mom, Dad… meet Devika!” Nirmala’s eyes flew open. There stood an attractive young girl before her, standing alongside Surya. A huge load rolled off her chest as she smiled at the girl who smiled back. There was an expression of uncertainty in her beautiful brown eyes. Surya took her hand and made her sit down next to Nirmala.

“Mom, Dad, Devika and I have known each other for a few months now. I wanted to tell you both about her, but wanted to wait for the right moment.” Nirmala smiled again. “Devika, welcome to our family,” she said softly.

Surya cleared his throat and began speaking again. There was a story here to be divulged and he knew it had to be done now.

“Mom, do you remember seeing Devika?”

Nirmala shook her head in bewilderment.

“No, son! I have never seen her before.”

“Remember the day we witnessed that scooter accident where a couple had been hit by a lorry?” Nirmala nodded as Ramachandran looked at Surya, an enquiry in his eyes.

“I went to the hospital after I had dropped you home. There I heard that the man had succumbed to his injuries, but his wife was fighting for her life. Somehow, I felt as though I needed to do something and I told the nurse that I was related to the girl who had been in the accident.”

Nirmala’s eyes widened. She knew what was coming, but somehow, after the sleepless night she had spent, this seemed almost like an anti-climax. Surya was still talking.

“That is how I met Devika. She was absolutely overwrought at the loss of her husband. They had only been married for around eight months. I began to visit her at the hospital every day, and when she was discharged, I continued to go over to see her.”

Surya held his hand out to Devika, who had sat quietly listening to him talk to his parents. She was as nervous as a reed, but she had faith in Surya. As she sat, eyes downcast, she suddenly felt another hand clasp hers gently.

“Devika, welcome to our family!” Nirmala said, as she held her other hand out to her son. The many fears that had assailed her the previous night now seemed inconsequential. This was a new truth that she and her husband had to accept. It was time to embrace the future, and she was going to do so with both arms.

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QUE SERA SERA #WRITEAPAGEADAY #BLOGCHATTER

 
The Nautical Wheeler

When I was growing up, one of the songs I always heard my mother sing was ‘Que Sera Sera’. Mom had a repertoire of songs, both peppy and sometimes crazy which she would bring out on occasion, and the manner in which she belted out those numbers was inimitable. Of course, we enjoyed the original sung by Doris Day who introduced it in the film titled ‘The Man Who Knew Too Much’ by Alfred Hitchcock where the song played a significant part to alert their onscreen kidnapped son.

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I had no idea what ‘Que Sera Sera’ meant in those days. All I knew was that listening to my mother singing gave me a warm feeling within. There were times when she would regale the audience by singing the song in Carnatic music style, another performance that I have never heard anyone else even attempt.

My mother and her two brothers formed a musical ensemble on their own. She was the dancer, her middle brother played the violin and her youngest brother played the mridangam. My uncles sang olden goldies like ‘Congratulations and Celebrations’ and ‘Delilah’ brilliantly. There was a particular song called ‘On A Cool Summer Morning’ which needed a particular South Indian accent to make it shine and it was a hit wherever it was sung.

‘Que Sera Sera’ being a meaningful but uncomplicated song, I found that the singing gene travelled to the next generation and my sisters and I also managed to flaunt it once in a while. I remember singing it at our Army get-togethers where often, the noise of the voices around and the accompanying orchestra were loud enough to mask the actual singing, which made it easier.

When I look back, the song has become a kind of anthem in my life. Que Sera Sera can be translated to mean ‘Whatever will be, will be’. The verses start with childhood and school and move on to falling in love, and finally parenthood. The refrain remains the same throughout.

Verse one and two speak of the joy of childhood:

“When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother what will I be?

 Will I be pretty, will I be rich, here’s what she said to me.

Que Sera Sera, whatever will be will be, the future’s not ours to see

Que Sera Sera, what will be will be.”

The second verse goes:

“I asked my teacher what should I try?

Should I paint pictures, should I sing songs?”

How beautifully the song encompasses the magic of childhood, where the mother is the first confidant of the child, followed by the teacher who guides her across school. The words speak of art and music, painting and singing, not about academics and learning, which will come naturally to the child in school. They point to a world beyond school learning, a richer and a more fulfilling realm which will enhance the personality of the child.

Verse three moves on to a world of romance and love:

“I ask my sweetheart what lies ahead,

Will there be rainbows day after day?”

The image is one of beauty, harmony and love, all of which encompass a world of companionship that is so rewarding. It is every person’s hope that the object of one’s adoration will be the ideal match. After all, there is a lifetime ahead that needs to be lived and love makes it pleasing.

Verse four is almost a repetition of verse one:

“Now I have children of my own, they ask their mother, “What will I be?

Will I be handsome, will I be rich, I tell them tenderly…”

It is as though life has taken a full circle and come around again. The word to be noted here is ‘tenderly’. That evokes the feeling of maternal love as the mother explains to her little ones that the future is not theirs to see, for what will be will be.

 
Quotes

Thus, the song’s lyrics are cheerfully fatalistic, implying that while we can all make plans to the hilt, finally it is fate or destiny that dictates our future.

This song will remain close to my heart forever. For those who want to take in its melody, I have posted the YouTube link below. Happy listening!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i9nWB5XifBI

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