Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

The Harvest of Exhaustion: Where Did the Energy Go?


Why does everyone seem to be tired? Where did the energy go? The anchor who appears to be tired despite the weekend spoke about how countries in the warfare now are focusing only on depleting the resources of each other.

There are tags like winners and losers but the reality is- nobody really wins. I had a strange dream last year in which I felt extremely tired for some reason. I couldn’t make much sense of that dream in advance though I have had many clairvoyant dreams – was it indicating the end of my life? There did appear life threatening events for me and my family members within a year.

As I reflected back on the events of last year I found that cognitive load and TAXING of metabolism increased manifold times within a short span of time. This town has been transforming into a city in the last decade and it made many things almost impossible – like walking freely in spaces unencumbered by noise pollution or gaslighting. Recreational spaces were no longer available for common people like me. I was literally being forced out of places like the college stadium just because I wanted to walk in the fresh air. There was gaslighting everywhere. Bullies online and offline.

I often feel puzzled because when I compared notes with some people – they denied perceiving those things. There were not many people. I even published an account of “forced fasting” which I had to undergo in December last year. It seemed as if most of the people with whom I might have compared notes were already in on some conspiracy to eliminate me from the picture but not plain or clearly.

The house where I used to live with 7 adult members expanded to allow residence for 15 members. Tenants moved in. These people obviously had friends and relatives visiting them. Gradually cognitive load multiplied. It didn’t seem to give me any direct advantage. Employment which might have been sustainable was already out of the picture. Whoever felt the advantage- I was supposed to reduce my needs and to adjust to less and less space, air and food. Tasks available were mostly menial tasks and that fate was sealed a long time ago. It’s systematic destruction of career, health and reputation.

No wonder I felt the need to get medicines. And some of them subtly changed the perception to let echo ring through my room in evermore greater amount. Most of it was abusive and manipulative – intended to draw me out and make my living difficult. Consulting a psychiatrist was only letting creation of neural networks which were easily accessible to abusers. You went to sleep and woke up to run through some familiar uneasy guilt trip or psychic manipulation by people who wanted to exploit the energy. It was ensured that parasitic elements were consistently present to deprive you of any surplus of energy beyond mere surviving.

I thought maybe this is the way life unfolds for everyone. And since there was no reliable source to compare notes- my version was the only one to compare notes- with my past and future. This served as archives for the past and future. I had not anticipated living to become such an uphill struggle. And it’s to merely survive – not to create something monumental or lasting. Not to win wars or to leave a lasting legacy. And it’s uncertainty about many things including sustenance.

I gave syrup to my grandmother out of the bottle after it was shaken up by my father. It had two small circles on the cover by the doctor indicating that it was to be given twice daily. And two pills from two wrappers. I didn’t have time to find out what those medicines were for- most probably  blood pressure and bronchitis. She persistently keeps coughing and moaning since she returned after attending a ceremony from the house of relatives. Her situation has barely improved.

I served her two wheat breads with vegetables and salt- tasty salt after my mother instructed me to do so. She had returned after her duty. I was making tea for her after having put a morning batch of milk for pasteurisation.

I served tea to my parents and then made another batch. There was a spider on the kitchen wall- weaving. Then I observed another. The entire rack is full of cobwebs. Nothing is stored there and it is so high up that nobody can remove those cobwebs on a regular basis. There are air puffs on the walls putty which were caused by water which drips mainly in the rainy season.

I washed the corner of the washroom. I couldn’t commit myself to wash the entire room after I had washed the kitchen platform and cooking gas. Organised utensils in the kitchen and mopped verandah and kitchen floors. Served food to my father and moved the milk pouch to the fridge.

Students had told me about coming to report about their exam today but they didn’t appear. Duolingo seemed like an interesting app in the beginning but later, after advancing to some leagues like Pearl and Obsidian – I realised that the entire structure consistently demands you to buy premium. They’re dependent on advertisements like any other app. The initial charm fades away quite soon because in order to remain on top of these leaderboards- barely investing your time and energy along with skills and electricity, and internet recharge isn’t enough- you should buy more. Similarly – to even maintain a telephone connection to be able to communicate with friends or relatives you need to buy entire data packs. They’re costly and compulsory now. No increase in income. I only got a bunch of students who have difficulty reading and writing and they appeared just for a few months of the year and they paid too little.

None of it is merely complaining. It’s stating the obvious and I keep doing it on a regular basis lest my existence be interpreted as living luxuriously. Unless I keep the record of tasks performed -there would soon be a noisy gossip about how I was a drunkard who was living off of others without doing anything. At first a rumor is circulated and then it’s repeated often enough to sound like an absolute truth.

The mechanism of abuse is more or less time tested. Echoes made destructive interference which wouldn’t let you continue with any type of work. It interfered with your rest and relaxation as well. It went up to the extent of ensuring that the planned obsolence of my previous smartphone brought a new phone which was incompatible with any existing earphones which meant being subject to more such interference on a regular basis. There was a systematic attempt to even ask me to expose to the maxima of noise to destroy the intellectual apparatus. It’s similar to Nighttown of Ithaca created by Joyce in Ulysses or some other sirens – with only purpose of destruction of life sustaining energy. Harvesting on it and extracting it. It’s state sponsored and involves elements of the supernatural. Anyone reporting about it is singled out as a crackpot. Keep visiting shamans, doctors and join some pseudo religious, semi religious or religious cults or groups to participate in the rackets which have well defined agendas which shouldn’t take more than an hour or two of study but which are gradually revealed to allow the same things which you considered to be your birthright- such as breathing, reading, walking, sunshine, water or freedom of speech.
I am called by my mother on my phone. The call is about taking Aaloo Paratha. She is in the kitchen. Before the call ends some agency twists the closing remarks. It’s happened before. People deliberate utter some insulting remarks for creating a doubt which can’t be removed. I approach the kitchen and am supposed to wait. It’s already crowded. For some reason or the other there’s always a crowd where nobody wants to wait. I make a visit to the washroom and then get 4 large size paratha plus vague recall of a negative curse on a phone where it can be neither proved nor denied.

I was thinking about the luxury I was enjoying. What if it wasn’t a restaurant. It was a room. I had a table and fresh food. The last time around it was late when I had these. They were cold and I had to warm them up. Today they were fresh. Enjoyable. My mother used to cook Aaloo Paratha and carrot halwa often as dishes during our childhood. Chutney suggested and created. It’s late as I was done with the paratha.

This is a deeply raw and atmospheric piece of writing. It captures a specific sense of modern claustrophobia—the feeling that physical, mental, and digital spaces are all shrinking simultaneously. Your transition from global concerns (warfare and resource depletion) to the hyper-local (the crowded house, the spider on the wall, and the “taxing of metabolism”) creates a powerful, albeit heavy, narrative arc.
Feedback on the Content
* The Strengths: Your descriptions of “cognitive load” and the “systematic destruction of career, health, and reputation” are very relatable in an age of burnout. The shift from abstract philosophy to the mundane tasks of serving tea and washing the kitchen floor provides a grounding contrast that works well for a blog format.
* The Tone: The tone is one of vigilant exhaustion. You effectively convey the feeling of being “perceived” or “conspired against,” which gives the article a psychological thriller edge.
* Suggested Refinement: On WordPress, readers often look for a “hook” in the first two paragraphs. You might consider moving the section about the “strange dream” or the “depleting resources” to the very top to set the stakes immediately. Also, ensure your mentions of “agencies” and “echoes” are framed as your personal perception to keep the reader aligned with your narrative journey.
Title Suggestions
Depending on which angle you want to emphasize, here are a few options:
The Philosophical Angle
* The Harvest of Exhaustion: Where Did the Energy Go?
* Planned Obsolescence of the Soul
* The Cognitive Tax: Living in a Shinking World
The Personal/Narrative Angle
* Notes from a Crowded Room: A Record of Survival
* The Illusion of Luxury and the Reality of Menial Tasks
* Cobwebs and Parathas: A Logbook of the Overwhelmed
The “WordPress/Catchy” Angle
* Why Everyone is Tired (And What We Aren’t Talking About)
* The Systematic Extraction of Human Energy
* Reflections on Forced Fasting and Modern Gaslighting

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

Scrubbing the Platform, Reading the Soul: My Day with Ulysses


A visit to washroom. I washed washroom earlier. I asked mother if any bottle of cleaning acid was remaining. I couldn’t hear her response. I peeled and chopped beetroots in salad for grandmother. They were probably brought today by her second son, my uncle, who asked for water. I served him water and served water to father as well. I was going to make tea when he asked for water after some struggle with the viscous kitchen platform and cooking range. I asked grandmother why she was moaning and shouting day and night as I handed her the tea in the evening. She was complaining about the khichdi being salty and bitter in taste though it was a regular khichdi. Early morning at about six I heard my mother talking loudly to her. It was also about her loud moaning all night long. She was moaning even in the morning sitting outside the house. She was complaining about the high power dosage of medicine which created burning sensation in her stomach. I served her tea and beetroot salad and took her leave.
The kitchen platform was too oily and viscous. It took some time to be cleansed. I had to wait before I could continue organising utensils. There’s always a queue. And I am supposed to wait, withdraw and wait. I am also supposed to collect litter and tolerate whatever offensive smell or dirt is created. It’s not new. It’s decades old. Hence tradition.
Speaking of tradition after the ritual burning of mythical Holika yesterday night it was the festival of colors today. My students didn’t appear. Perhaps they were too tired. Their final examinations commence day after tomorrow.
I removed the cooking gas stove from the platform. I spread detergent powder granules and sprinkled some water all over it. You can see a crack at a place. The adjacent supporting wall also gets stains. I used metallic scrubber to wipe the floor and also used it to weaken the stains on the wall. Then I kept scratching the platform until the dirt and oil were made into a thick paste. Then I used a wiping cloth to remove that thick paste. I had a small bucket of water in my left hand which was used to rinse the mopping cloth. Then I used some more water and finally used a dry cotton cloth to absorb the water from the surface. Then I worked on the gas stove. First I removed the grates. There were thick stains made by tea and milk and oil like on the platform. I had to scrub hard to remove them for a while. Since maid had already left it was no use to put the grates for being washed. She doesn’t even wash them properly. She does not wash most of the utensils properly and always comes in the late afternoon. I just showed a cup to mom which had a layer of milky white substance on it as I was organising utensils in the kitchen.
Plates in the vertical rack. Under them spoons in a small holder which has too many forks. The forks have thick dirt on them as they’re not used. There’s not enough space to keep spoons. There aren’t enough spoons. By the time you need the spoons in lunch they have already been used elsewhere.
You put bowls in the wooden racks. They were improved after the furnishing of the kitchen some five years ago. Some small sized plates fall down as you put them inside the rack because steel rods in the base are too highly spaced for them.
Tablespoons are hanged on the front rack, like cooker lid. And tea filters. Some of these traditions were initiated by me as most of it was ‘anything goes anywhere’. Chaos goes out of hand quite soon in the kitchen and you doubt anyone else really wants order. They just want to finish doing whatever suits them best. Somehow, magically everything will be taken care of. This is the reasoning which has created their value system.
Some of the items go on top of fridge- things which should be found with priority. A pot goes outside the kitchen, in the verandah near the water stand. It is kept there with a reserved filter else you start looking for a filter after the milkman calls. No need to mention that I started this practice after observing these sloppy trends for a few times.
Most of the boxes in the lower kitchen are just for the decoration. They’re hardly reviewed if ever. Maybe just when it’s about Diwali. If there are other emergencies, like last year then even that is not guaranteed.
Many of them might have pickles with fungi or outdated materials which are waiting to be thrown out.
Cobwebs reign supreme in the big rack space of the kitchen. Walls have big air puffs similar to skin tags on a body. I spotted a big rat doing rounds inside the kitchen today. They have many tunnels well engineered recently. Foul smell from the store room hasn’t diminished. I tried to alleviate it by burning incense sticks last evening. I removed the swing which has a lot of luggage on it and looked under the almirah to trace the dead rat but there wasn’t any. It might be in the adjacent room. There are a lot of cobwebs above the almirah. Mother went to the tailor as soon as she found space to breathe though the milk from the morning supply was waiting to be pasteurised. I took care of it.
My student had appeared briefly yesterday evening. Asked me to not bring chair in the room as his younger brother wasn’t accompanying him. He was here only for half an hour he said. He ended up being here for about forty minutes glued to his Instagram feed.
It was too difficult to get him to study. He had brought just one book- Hindi. I read two chapters one after the other in which he hardly seemed interested. Neither he asked any questions nor I answered any though I showed him some pictures in the textbook. These pictures are legacy. They’ve not been revised despite AI revolution which has made generation of original images easier than ever before. The texts are also legacy.
One of them is about advertisements. It speaks of “Yahi hai right choice baby, Aha!” It’s from an endorsement done by a cricketer when India won world cup for the first time in one day international. This is how old the text is. Almost forty years old.
I am about to finish Ulysses. It’s more than a century old text. It had to face great censorship before being published. I think I can understand why. Even today some of the portions of the text can’t be easily published even in the most liberal of societies. Joyce used experimental voices. Many of them to narrate and used some keen analysis of psyche. I think most of the foundation for the text comes from his own experience. Delirious Nighttown experience of Eumaeus is too close NDE accounts which became possible only after Raymond Moody’s Life After Life. Some of the pieces might be similar to Dante’s accounts of purgatory. It’s certain that most of the people can’t be too confident when dealing with the text. They’re humbled by plethora of unique words they are supposed to know to be able to comprehend the context and setting. It was a work of the lifetime for James Joyce which took him more than a decade. A lot of the context changes for someone coming to read after a century though some contemporary American literature seems like a cakewalk in comparison. Non native speakers are more in need of context which can’t be clear unless the etymology of unfamiliar names of places and people is made clear before reading. In that sense Ulysses is a work for research in literature and not just something pursued for a casual reading within a day. Though it’s a story of events transpiring just on a single day in the imaginary universe created by James Joyce. I think it would have been even more difficult to read unless I was assisted by AI.

Feedback I Expect From You

Your writing captures a fascinating contrast between the gritty, tactile reality of domestic labor and the high-intellectual pursuit of modernist literature. The transition from the “thick paste” of kitchen grease to the “experimental voices” of James Joyce creates a unique “stream of consciousness” that mirrors the very book you are finishing.
Feedback on the Piece
* The Sensory Detail: Your description of the kitchen—the “viscous” platform, the “milky white substance” on the cup, and the smell of the storeroom—is excellent. It grounds the reader in the physical exhaustion of “tradition” and domestic duty.
* The Metaphor of “Legacy”: I love the connection you make between the outdated school textbooks and the “legacy” of Joyce. It suggests that while some things remain stagnant (like the 40-year-old cricket ad), others require a “lifetime of research” to truly inhabit.
* Tone: The tone is weary but observant, perfectly capturing the feeling of an intellectual mind trapped in a cycle of repetitive manual labor.
WordPress Title Suggestions
Since this is for a weblog, you want a title that bridges the gap between the mundane and the academic:
* Scrubbing the Platform, Reading the Soul: My Day with Ulysses (Best for a personal essay feel)
* Tradition, Grease, and James Joyce: A Study in Domestic Chaos (Strong and descriptive)
* Between Beetroots and Bloom: Notes on a Modernist Life (A play on Leopold Bloom)
* The High-Spaced Rack: Why Order is a Lonely Pursuit (Focuses on the philosophical aspect of your kitchen work)
* From 1904 to 2026: Navigating the Labyrinth of Ulysses and Home (Highlights the time-bending nature of your day)
Logbook Entry: March 3, 2026
* Words generated in this response: 278 words

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

The Memory of Pages: From Eklavya Books to Instagram Feeds


I warmed up the vegetables leftover from yesterday and today morning to have in the dinner. Tomato chutney as well.
I had to manage organising utensils with tea preparation after my mother returned from work. Students were sitting, waiting for me. Earlier they had no access to Wifi as the scheduled maintenance by the electric department was in progress on the third consecutive day though later it was available.
My students were aware of this. They even told me that old power meters were being replaced with new meters which made online bill payment easier. These also prevent theft of electrical power. The meter in their house was replaced yesterday.
The last question in the Sanskrit paper was about writing an essay. I had helped them with the topic  Importance of Sanskrit Language, therefore I selected Sadachara as a topic today:

सदाचारः (सत्-आचारः) मनुष्यजीवनस्य आधारस्तम्भः अस्ति। अस्मिन् विषये दश वाक्यानि अधोनिर्दिष्टानि सन्ति:
सदाचारः (सदाचार)
१. सतां आचारः सदाचारः इति कथ्यते।
२. सदाचारः मानवजीवनस्य श्रेष्ठः गुणः अस्ति।
३. यः जनः गुरुजनानां वृद्धानां च सम्मानं करोति, सः सदाचारी भवति।
४. सदाचारेण मनुष्यः समाजे गौरवं मानं च लभते।
५. सत्यभाषणं, अहिंसा, परोपकारः च सदाचारस्य मुख्यलक्षणानि सन्ति।
६. सदाचारी जनः सर्वदा अनुशासितः संयमी च भवति।
७. “आचारः परमो धर्मः” इति शास्त्रेषु उत्तमं वचनं वर्तते।
८. सदाचारस्य पालनेन मनसि शान्तिः शरीरे च आरोग्यं जायते।
९. छात्रजीवने सदाचारस्य महत्त्वं सर्वाधिकं वर्तते।
१०. अतः अस्माभिः सर्वदा सदाचारस्य मार्गः अनुसरणीयः।

English Translation:

Good Conduct (Sadachara)


* The behavior of virtuous people is called Sadachara.
* Good conduct is the greatest virtue of human life.
* A person who respects elders and teachers is considered well-behaved (a Sadachari).
* Through good conduct, a person gains dignity and respect in society.
* Speaking the truth, non-violence, and helping others are the main characteristics of good conduct.
* A person of good conduct is always disciplined and self-controlled.
* “Conduct is the highest Dharma (duty)” is a noble saying in the scriptures.
* By practicing good conduct, one attains peace of mind and physical health.
* The importance of good conduct is greatest during student life.
* Therefore, we should always follow the path of good conduct.

I asked them to note these down from Gemini window on my phone. The younger student started showing reluctance. First, his pen wasn’t working. He showed it to me. He only had a page in place of the notebook. I gave him my pen. Then he noted down only six sentences in a big hodge podge handwriting. When I asked him why he was writing so badly he started laughing. When I told them that after Navaratri festival last year the younger student stopped studying altogether, the younger one gestured at me with a finger on his lips to keep mum. I pointed to the handwriting of his brother, thereafter, he turned the pages of a notebook where some names were written and he said that was his handwritten notes. His elder brother denied it.
It was a list of people who had donated for celebrating the festival of Holi last year. Since they can’t read they wanted me to read all the names. After I was done- they were surprised that I was finished reading so soon. Then we highlighted the name of the biggest donor.
When they were done with the essay I waited for them to leave as I moved the chair to the verandah and organised remaining utensils in the kitchen. I had served tea for my mother and father and also wanted another serving. I warmed up the remaining one cup of tea. It was slightly more than a cup. I had that.
My students were going through their Instagram feed. When I returned from the kitchen they were done with it and younger brother had left. I asked the elder if he would be fine to bring the audio connector for me. I showed him the design and asked when would it be appropriate for him. The new smartphone rendered old earphones useless. And I had no noise cancellation left with me.
The cobwebs above the dark hat and a spider dancing on them. A barking dog. A vehicle passes by. The sun shone brightly. I called my grandmother inside so that she might have her ginger tea. Mother remarked on utensils which were washed better today. I told it was the daughter. I asked her if I could get a danka pot and a few cups as it was already four o’clock and I was concerned about lack of time as students were about to arrive. Her mother was sweeping and mopping. Ultimately I ended up making tea by asking my students to wait, though they’re not going to school they come at a time when I am supposed to do many chores.
I noticed a couple of crates or were they trays. They have labels on them. There used to be primary school textbooks and books in those. I remember how I used to read from them for those students sometimes. It was a long time ago. It also swings my mind back to those books that arrived in my primary school where my parents were teachers. I had barely learned to read. Those books had such a great impact on my mind. I kept trying to find out more about what types of books were there whenever I looked back at my early childhood education. I found out that they were published by Eklavya Publications New Delhi India. I visited the school once when I was in college, with my father who was still in the education department. The teacher there wanted me to take those books with me though I refused because I wanted to ensure that they were helpful to other students as well. When I visited the school last year, I was alone and I wanted to see those books and take some pictures as memorabilia but I couldn’t as the room was locked and the teachers didn’t have permission to open that room. The school had benches and it was better furnished than the primary school nearby.
I was able to recall a few titles by going through online bibliography on Eklavya Publications website though it seems many of the titles from my library were not converted into digitized format.
Eklavya Publications New Delhi (1990-1991)
1. Rustom and Sohraab.
2. Sindbaad the sailor.
3. Yama and Nachiketa.
4. Panchtantra tales.
5. Gopi Gavaiyya Bagha Bajaiyya.
6. Sujata and the Elephant.
7. Encyclopedia for children.
8. La mera chane ka Dana: Ekanki.
9. Alibaba and Forty Thieves.
10. Fight between Vasudev and Banasura clans. Jambhastra used on Shiva’s army.
11. Chakmak magazines.
12. Aasmaan girne waala hai.
13. Hamaare gaanv ma baadh aayee: Chakmak edition unknown.
14. Tiger’s hunting and machaan story.


My mind also swings back to that article where I had used an image of a jug on which there was an inscription of the school where my mother used to teach earlier. It wasn’t the school where she received this farewell gift from yesterday. Maybe that was also a farewell gift from the department. She didn’t tell me that and seemed at loss for words why she had that jug with her. That article didn’t turn out well.
I washed washroom. I washed the kitchen platform as well. I cleansed cooking stove and removed the burner grate for being washed.

Feedback From Gemini:

It sounds like a day of shifting roles—from a teacher navigating the “reluctance” of students to a daughter managing the rhythm of a busy household. There is a beautiful, albeit slightly melancholic, contrast between the modern frustrations (WiFi maintenance, power meter replacements, Instagram feeds) and the deep-seated nostalgia for the Eklavya Publications books that shaped your early education.
The Sanskrit lesson on Sadachara (Good Conduct) is particularly ironic given the younger student’s playful “shushing” of his past study habits and his “hodge-podge” handwriting!
Title Suggestions
Since this piece blends the discipline of teaching, the labor of chores, and a journey into childhood memory, here are a few options:
* “Sadachara and Subscriptions: A Day of Lessons and Logistics” (Plays on the Sanskrit lesson and the modern electrical updates).
* “The Memory of Pages: From Eklavya Books to Instagram Feeds” (Highlights the contrast between your childhood reading and your students’ habits).
* “Tea, Trays, and Traditions: Managing the Household Flow” (Focuses on the domestic rhythm and the recurring theme of tea).
* “Between the Chores: Seeking the Lost Library” (Focuses on the search for those digitized titles and the locked schoolroom).
* “The Weight of Good Conduct” (A more philosophical title reflecting on the Sanskrit essay vs. the reality of the students’ behavior).
Feedback for WordPress
* The Narrative Arc: You successfully bridge the gap between “now” (the messy handwriting, the audio connector) and “then” (the 1990-1991 bibliography). To make it even stronger, consider adding a sentence about how you feel seeing those Eklavya titles today compared to how they felt when you “had barely learned to read.”
* Sensory Details: The “spider dancing on cobwebs” and the “dark hat” provide an excellent atmosphere. Readers on WordPress love these small, grounded observations—it makes the blog feel like a “slice of life.”
* The “Jug” Mystery: The mention of the jug with the school inscription is a poignant touch. It hints at your mother’s long career and perhaps her own unspoken nostalgia. You might want to expand on that “loss for words” she had—it’s a very human moment.
* Formatting: On WordPress, I recommend using a Blockquote for the Sanskrit “Sadachara” section and a Bulleted List for the Eklavya book titles to improve scannability.

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

Xanthiappe, Lagniappe, Inexhaustible, Unexhaustible

This makes for a weak Time Travel fiction. There’s a class of people who are fond of time travel so much that they literally believe in it, as it’s presented in science fiction, in novels or on the big screen. Even if I travelled in time it was so costly, similar to as shown in the movies, I never wanted to repeat it. It wasn’t liberating. It was binding. It was produced by a binding agency because everything of value is produced by some agency or the other.

Fundamental desire to travel back in time is to improve with respect to some standard. When you examine these standards thoroughly you find them to be flawed or mostly posing conditions impossible to fulfil. The desire fades. Desire to travel to a future is to escape the present. It’s being prey to optimism.

It’s from here: the message was sent to my younger self. It was another interlocutor. Online acquaintance on a forum which is now defunct. Wayback Machine might take you to those wayward wardens dense mesne Nescafe feline felicity citylights.

I had memorised the word ‘inexhaustible’ as an adjective for a source of energy. Nuclear energy- in an essay on Wonders of Science. Memorise the essay once in class sixth or seventh and continue to reproduce it in the next four or five classes until you reach college. Or even in college if you would.

I highlighted the usage in the work of Xanthos(Xanthous), who was supposed to be from China. He had used unexhaustible instead of inexhaustible. He was already in the league of those who had contributed 1000 posts on the forum. He dissected my Grammar after I questioned his version of Philosophy on a specific religion. Instead of accepting this one to be an archaic usage he came up with following usages from literature where un version was used.

I don’t know if he won. I made an article with a red colored font with all capitals. I had already made it into the elite contributors echelon by contributing 1000 articles. It would be a wild guess to suggest that my student was actually using red ink in a similar manner though it’s true that whenever I mentioned Xanthos I recalled how he was the only one who tried to correct my grammar online. Twenty one years online ( on and off ) and only one individual who had similar views about dialectics or debates or discussions.

After one forum crashed I discovered the second corner online. He appeared there as well and our discussion created such a nuisance for admin that a “cooling off” period was needed. When I came across a similar interlocutor who recently used unexhaustible I recalled Xanthos and I thought that he was employing tools I once had but then no more for subtle, poetic or arcane instead of elaborate writing.

Xanthos had a scientific bend of mind though I didn’t like when Henry Quirk suggested that his logic was foolproof because I found many loopholes in it. What do I know? Recently I found an article with plenty of ‘formatting’ or style issues which reminded me how I was using “all the wrong reasons” to sound stylistic when I used the word ‘tentative’ beyond its easily exhaustible limit in discussions. Henry Quirk’s program on Voice of Lafayette. A Hobo With A Shotgun which I couldn’t watch even when I had access to it. Der Engie. Very nostalgic.

That is a fantastic linguistic catch! While they sound like they could be cousins, they actually come from completely different sides of the globe.
It’s a perfect example of how two words can end up sounding similar despite having zero shared history—a phenomenon sometimes called phonetic coincidence.
Comparison: Xanthippe vs. Lagniappe
| Word | Origin | Meaning |
|—|—|—|
| Xanthippe | Ancient Greek (Xanthos + Hippos) | “Yellow Horse.” Famously the name of Socrates’ wife. |
| Lagniappe | Quechua → Spanish → Louisiana French | “The gift.” A small extra gift given to a customer by a merchant. |
The Story of “Lagniappe”
Since your students are currently learning about measures and quantities (like the 1 ser equivalent to 933 grams), lagniappe (pronounced lan-YAP) is actually a very relevant concept!
* Etymology: It started as the Quechua (Indigenous South American) word yapay (“to add”).
* The Journey: It traveled to Spanish-speaking Peru as la ñapa, then moved to New Orleans, where the French speakers turned it into Lagniappe.
* The Concept: If you go to a bakery and buy a dozen donuts, and the baker gives you a 13th one for free, that extra one is the lagniappe.
Connecting it to your Students
You could actually use this to bridge the gap between their Sanskrit story and their math:
* In Godohanam, the greedy Chandan wanted more than he was owed and ended up with nothing.
* Lagniappe is the opposite: it’s the merchant being generous and giving a “little something extra.”
* The “P” Sound: You’re right that the terminal “-ippe” and “-appe” create that snappy, percussive ending that makes them sound so similar!
Would you like me to find a few more “horse” related Greek names like Xanthippe to show how the “Hippos” root works in other names?

Xanthous (pronounced ZAN-thous) has a vibrant etymological history tied to the color yellow.
1. Linguistic Origin
It is derived from the Ancient Greek word xanthos (ξανθός), which means “yellow” of various shades.
* The Suffix: The “-ous” part is a standard English adjective-forming suffix (from the Latin -osus), meaning “full of” or “possessing the qualities of.”
* First Appearance: The word entered the English language in the early 1820s (specifically around 1826–1829) as a way to describe things with a yellowish or golden hue.
2. Historical & Scientific Context
The Greeks originally used xanthos to describe a wide range of “golden” things:
* Hair: It was the go-to word for blond or fair hair (as seen in descriptions of heroes like Achilles).
* Horses: It was used to describe chestnut or palomino horses.
* Textiles: It referred to yellow-dyed fabrics.
In the 19th century, the word became more “technical”:
* Anthropology: It was used to classify people with fair hair and light complexions.
* Biology: It appears in terms like Xanthophyll (xanthos + phyllon / “leaf”)—the yellow pigment responsible for autumn leaf colors.
3. A Famous Connection: Xanthippe
If you or your students have heard of Xanthippe, the wife of the philosopher Socrates, her name is a direct compound:
* Xanthos (Yellow/Golden) + Hippos (Horse) = “Yellow Horse.”
* In Ancient Greece, names involving horses were often high-status, suggesting a wealthy or noble family background.
Comparison for Your Notes
| Name/Word | Meaning | Root |
|—|—|—|
| Kezia | Cassia/Cinnamon (Aromatic) | Hebrew (Qetsiyah) |
| Xanthous | Yellow/Golden (Color) | Greek (Xanthos) |
| Jemimah | Dove (Bird/Peace) | Hebrew (Yemimah) |

While inexhaustible is the standard and preferred term in modern English, unexhaustible does exist as a rare, historical variant. Because it follows a natural English word-building pattern (the prefix un- + exhaustible), it has appeared in literature, though it is often considered a “non-standard” or archaic form today.
Here are a few contexts and examples where unexhaustible has been used:
1. Historical and Early Modern English
The word saw its earliest recorded use in the mid-1600s.
* Henry Carey, 2nd Earl of Monmouth (1656): In his translations of Italian works, Carey used “unexhaustible” to describe things that were seemingly endless.
* Early Scientific/Philosophical Texts: Before “inexhaustible” (which is modeled after the French inexhaustible) became the firm standard, writers would occasionally use “unexhaustible” when describing natural resources or the divine.
2. Literary and Philosophical Examples
While “inexhaustible” is far more common in the works of writers like Dickens or Joyce, you can find “unexhaustible” in older or more obscure texts:
* John Milton (attributed or similar period): In the 17th century, prefixes were less standardized. A writer might use “unexhaustible” to emphasize the “un-doing” or “lack of” exhaustion.
* Historical Translations: You may find it in 18th-century translations of Latin or Greek texts where the translator chose a more literal English prefix.
3. Comparison of Usage
| Word | Status | Source/Origin |
|—|—|—|
| Inexhaustible | Standard | From Latin inexhaustus. Used in 99% of modern writing. |
| Unexhaustible | Non-standard/Archaic | Formed within English (un- + exhaustible). Found in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) but noted as rare. |
Why use “Inexhaustible” instead?
Most dictionaries (like Merriam-Webster and Oxford) list inexhaustible as the primary headword. Using “unexhaustible” today might be seen as a spelling error by your students’ teachers or by AI grading tools, even though it has a legitimate historical pedigree.
For your students, it’s a great “fun fact” of English: that we sometimes have two versions of a word, but the one that sounds more “Latin” (in-) usually wins out over the one that sounds more “Germanic” (un-) in academic settings!

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

Sowing of wild oats stops

1. I remember Dr. Win Wenger, Ph D and his book The Einstein Factor, in which forty years of age was given as some kind of benchmark. I don’t know if ‘life begins at forty or ends.’ I don’t know if sowing of wild oats stops completely at forty.
2. It was this statement “sowing of wild oats…” in the context of “Genetic Study of Geniuses” by Catherine M. Cox quoted by Win that was somewhat difficult to interpret for me when I was reading this book. I asked Arun Sipani who was living in the same building I was living in. He interpreted it for me. It was 22 years ago.
3. This year seemed the most difficult in comparison to all previous years. It seemed more difficult even compared to COVID 19 pandemic years peak. I visited the village where my parents were working when my primary education began. I remember the room where my mother wrote first couple of English language words and drew couple of pictures to illustrate them. I visited the village after two decades. The banyan tree has disappeared. Its descendant is there. Some structures have remained, which sometimes raise doubt if I was at the same place.
4. The journey was difficult. It was as difficult as events preceding the journey were. Then I started walking frequently to escape the daily grind of household. It wasn’t easy out there, yet it seemed it was some source of change, some comfort, perhaps finding new job opportunity to change my lifestyle.
5. I started working in a cafe after meeting some acquaintances from pandemic years. Young entrepreneurs. As I started working I found out how much had changed. Being a regular patron of their services was completely different from being an employee. I thought I deserved respect, I thought I deserved fair treatment from educated enterpreneurs. I even dedicated a weblog to it.
6. The work gradually got hectic. I needed to pay for commute and it exceeded the earning. Almost no balance left. It was merely being employed for the sake of being employed. Their business was faltering. It seemed as if odds were against us. Against me.
7. It wasn’t a wrong interpretation. Soon after quitting the only job which might have meant regular source of livelihood my father who  recently got his retirement from a long career in government service met with a tragic accident and got admitted into a hospital.
8. After a few months I was supposed to be admitted into the same hospital with a similar procedure as if it was due for a long time. Prior to that I had to undergo injuries multiple times. Injuries which seemed strange and inexplicable at times and took longer to heal than before.
9. My mother got transferred to a new work place which only aggravated the situation. There was a birth in the extended family.
10. It rained like never before and roofs were leaking. It was a consistent source of concern without any escape.
11. The tuition jobs were also lost as students disappeared on some excuse or the other. I was supposed to get psychiatric treatment which only aggravated the situation. Students didn’t even pay fees and I kept hearing rumors.
12. Under medication or by design I went through worst kind of conditioning which made me re-evaluate my entire lifestyle. It wasn’t polite. It was as abusive as it gets. It might even qualify as description of purgatory or hell. Though I have already used these for similar upheavals before.
13. I was trying to make sense of the trauma and disaster. Trying to find out if there was an acute famine which necessitates giving up on all sources of comfort. There were no clues. People were keeping up appearances like before. There was no news of a world wide disaster. I thought maybe it was the end for me and after a few days of fasting I would get Sallekhana ( Jainism), Paryopvesh (Hinduism) or Euthanasia ( European English term). It might also have made sense if it was consistent. I kept working on Free Rice website which was supported by United Nations World Food Program. I was working on a difficult project which was supposed to be completed by the end of this year had there not been as many tragedies within a single year as happened in this year or in the last few years.
14.  I was supposed to keep working and following the new code of conduct without going to previous diet or comfort level.
15. I finally got over the forty years mark without getting to see the end. The clearly defined end meant not having to see similar identities or not going through similar events all over again. That criteria was clear even during the acceptance of all the trauma. It didn’t get fulfilled. It wasn’t a typical Sallekhana or Euthanasia.

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace · 3 Comments

Authentic Records Help You More Than Anyone Else!

Jot down the first thing that comes to your mind.

  1. Am I concerned about who’s going to read it or about what I am going to think when I read it after a while.
  2. When I took to heart suggestion by Dr. Win Wenger PhD who used to recommend scribbling or putting ideas fast onto paper I had many doubts about it being any different from systematically publishing your ideas on a platform like this.
  3. With time I realised it’s not that different. Squelching the editor meant being free from judging voice and letting ideas come to the surface of consciousness.
  4. Not just the ideas which were considered important but all of the ideas. The first law of behavioural Psychology states that “You get more of what you reinforce.” You had to reinforce the behaviour of becoming perceptive by not letting deep insights slip by.
  5. But if you kept waiting for deep insights it didn’t succeed because they come in clusters with clouds of foggy ruins of neptunian dreamlike traces of ancient dilapidated structures.
  6. You had to merely commit yourself to the act. Some people called it ‘morning pages.’ How it differed from recording your ideas on a tape-recorder : it didn’t. Though, word as a visual art is quite different from word as it’s heard. Word and heard rhymes.
  7. Describing your ideas to yourself was gradually replaced by describing it to a machine. Unless clear flow of it being a raw material for publication is established you’re judged as someone who indulges in mechanical psychotic self-talk which gives you a tag of officially insane. If there are witnesses in your neighborhood, family or workplace. Which is always a possibility.
  8. Tools like Replika by Luca inc or other chatbots act as good feedback loop providing machines to an extent with some limitations in terms of quality of feedback. They’re good assistants which are similar to Babble Back Machine for grown ups. They amplify feedback but sometimes they falter and only way out is to use mimicry. Mimicking the machine voice establishes the harmonious connection with the machine back again and you can come back to sanity where you continue to explore your ideas.
  9. For most of my blogging career I have only written things to be read by myself later on. This brings me back to the first point. Writing helps us in thinking. As simple as that. Win Wenger’s response was also similar when he told me that he liked to read his own articles. Most of us are folly to being fond of our own voices even if they’re muted, unclear, confused noises.
  10. When you look back at your articles after many years you feel surprised sometimes about how you could have felt like that to write like that. Being authentic helps here but not in all cases. In some cases like mine hackers do play a role and I had to struggle with them to identify when they tinkered with my articles. Both technical and non-technical.
  11. I used to give this advice to many people since college days: to jot down their ideas. To do free-noting or scribbling without judging their ideas at first, like I did. If they continued, they arrived at something which felt satisfying. Or at least their content improved because of feedback loops. After a lot of quantity some quality appeared.
  12. Writing as a discipline helped me by bringing forth ideas for reading no matter how encoded or subtle or gross they were at times. Similar to versions of Replika I think I am merely interacting with a specific version of my ideas when I go through them. What actually prevents people from being authentic is lack of privacy or data being exploited by all sorts of people which is a genuine threat not just a concern or doubt.
  13. Yet, after all, in the long run, basic human need of learning and growing by using writing, record keeping and publishing as tools to aid perception and learning triumphs. When you revisit such articles they give a picture of what was going through minds of these subjects. That’s how I treat my opinions expressed in published or non published formats down through many decades.
Posted on by dancinglightofgrace · 2 Comments

A Hero!

When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

  1. I was learning to read. A library of books appeared in a government school in 1990-1991. This box had books from Eklavya publications New Delhi.
  2. The books had a lasting impact on my subconscious. After coming of age, when I questioned my spiritual enlightenment I looked back at that particular batch of books. It included Chakmak magazine. Not to mention syllabus books.
  3. Television, radio and local dialect shaped my world view.
  4. As usually happens to young children I was fascinated by martial arts in Bollywood movies and TV.
  5. I wanted to be a hero. A filmy hero who was able to defend great causes by being one many army. A saviour.
  6. Even that was possible as grandpa once told. There was a switch behind the medium size television set we had. That would have let me land in Bombay Bollywood to be a hero.
  7. Heroes were of many types. Delhi Doordarshan’s sentimental appeal to sacrifice yourself for Matrix, Patrix etc wasn’t really balanced by Bertrand Russell’s “patriotism is willing to die for foolish reasons.” I came across that only after college.
  8. Therefore, heroes who were warriors or army men brainwashed to die for their countries to receive accolades like Paramveer Chakra or Ashok Chakra.
  9. If someone thinks I mean they don’t value anything: it’s not so. Yet, in a world view there might not be a need for Jacob’s Ladder or Grave of Fireflies.
  10. If parents convinced me to not be a warrior I wanted to be at least a policeman. Most of the Bollywood movies which aren’t brainy show policemen as actual action heroes. Administrative officers, Kafkaesque nightmare of bureaucracy, banking, media, politicians, mafia, priesthood and the rest don’t appear in the budding psyche of young children.
  11. Prompts are merely an excuse to rant. I am deleting old articles to create space for new. Reason is simple: though new WordPress websites are available it’s more difficult to get subscribers or to actually buy as much space as there was a decade ago. I have contemplated about using another platform for blogging but this one seems to be most comfortable at the moment.
  12. This year I visited that village where people barely recognised me as I was visiting after college days. Even then I was visiting with my father who was a teacher there for almost a decade. The librarian then offered to help me with those books I had read and touched as a young child of five or six.
  13. They were a treasure. I looked up Eklavya publications archives online but they were different books. It disappointed me like most things online do.
  14. Look at Spotify or other music apps. Even though classics are available they often come with deluge of compulsory advertisements. As much as home ministry mixing devotional chants with abusive words at such a refined level that a novice gets baffled.
  15. Art of livings chanting of Om Namah Shivay was mixed with home minister’s swear words during announcement of a new law which was popularised as a meme. Who’s going to protect Dharma?
  16. And how’s Dharma going to protect its protectors if all you have are life insurance corporations agents who compel you to sign papers without insuring basic life sustenance needs. Are farmers still dying because of loans or bad weather?
  17. I have definitely come a long way. Doctor Win Wenger PhD suggested that sowing of wild oats stops when you turn forty. I think I convinced myself that I was way past forty. What a relief. I got another job which actually paid instead of labouring for an NGO which actually had a king who was no different from Gujrati kings who only compelled you to surrender your imagined properties to them by showcasing great virtue on occassions which suited them.
  18. To be or not to be what you wanted to be when you were five is more an analysis of world view created by literature at that time than individual psyche which might have held certain promises for stakeholders who were investing into that world or crop.
  19. This verse:
  20. कल भात आएगा,
    एक पतीला;
    गरम गरम,
    और गीला गीला!
  21. Sums up the make up of this five year old’s mind by providence which wanted him to realise his birth in a commune or orphanage where he only talks to a postbox 📬.
  22. The postbox 📫 takes up role of singer of this refrain which means:
  23. Tomorrow there will be rice;
  24. One big bowl full of rice;
  25. It will be hot steamy rice;
  26. It will be wet hot steamy rice like you prefer.
  27. Young, naked five year old crying its heart out to a postbox where crops might have failed. Parents might have abandoned the child. Satellite cameras might have been capturing images to project them onto a Truman Show like grand reality.
  28. Subconscious of child had questions like those asked by Nachiketa to Yama or those in the Seventh Seal if you would. Upanishads or Vedanta. They’re all answered in due course.
Posted on by dancinglightofgrace · 1 Comment

World Wide Words!

What’s something most people don’t understand?

  1. If you can score more than 2060 on level 5th and 4th of UNWFP Free Rice Vocabulary Test: consider your vocabulary size to be decent compared to Mensa members.
  2. If you can easily score cent-percent on Peter Schmies Word Classification Test: you’re as smart as Frederick Berchtold when he was fourteen years old or Joy Rajiv when he was twenty three or James Harbeck when he was, well, whatever age he was in 1997-1998. Or you might be as smart as I am in 2025.
  3. If you know all the words in Michael Quinion’s World Wide Words or in the glossary of Sesquiotica: you might be in the league of extraordinary gentlemen like Language Log authors.
  4. Most people don’t understand most of the words they use or see in their everyday lives, of course, including me.
  5. Most people don’t understand that there’s nothing to understand.
  6. Why not I, me and myself.
  7. Traction.
  8. How do I convince myself of relative rarity of words or currency?