
Dear Readers,
At last the morning air, at least, is cool in Mumbai. There is a fine mist (not pollution) which covers the residential towers that surround my apartment. I can hear birds chirping, not to mention the cooing of the pigeons. On the drive to office, I can often spot butterflies at traffic signals, trying to catch the morning sunshine as they flit around the few flowering plants that have been planted at these traffic junctions. India is fortunate enough, to celebrate all festivals. So the Xmas cheer is also visible. The cool air brings a smile to many faces, including those on that of the street urchins who are busy selling Santa hats.
But what is just another New Year? Why do we look forward to it?
Guess, it is summed up best in these lines: And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream
So, here is hoping that your dreams come true in 2011.See you, next year.
Warm regards,
Lubna
The Prophet by Kahil Gibran
And an astronomer said, "Master, what of Time?"
And he answered:
You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing.
Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream.
And that that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the
stars into space.
Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless?
And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being, and moving not form
Love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds?
And is not time even as love is, undivided and paceless?
But if in you thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons,
And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.
Photograph: There is a tiny pond in the Bibi Ka Maqbara premise at Aurangabad, where I photographed this water lily.

