Category Archives: Words

You are eighty.

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My father loved parties. He enjoyed bringing people together. He was so very generous.

On the 23rd of January this year, he would have been 80. When the day came, I started imagining his ‘birthday party’, what it would have been like, who would have been there.

But it is the quiet, unremarkable moments I miss most. Him getting ready. Us gently recommending he unwrap the new cologne, because today is not a day for Old Spice.

He is not a fan of cake. But there is a large one for everyone else. He might have a few pieces of chocolate. He asks me to top up his glass. Whiskey – a generous pour, two ice-cubes, a splash of water.

It is easy to slip into the present tense. It is less painful than saying would have been. I treasure every memory, however faint, and every moment, however tiny, for these help me imagine.

Pulped Fiction – 2021 NWF joanne burns Microlit Award

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The call out

The call out was for submissions which play with genre. A mash-up, a reshape, a blend, a hybrid of form, genre and style. The award was co-hosted by Spineless Wonders and the Newcastle Writers Festival; selected pieces offered publication in the annual Spineless Wonders’ microlit anthology.

It’s been so exciting to be a finalist. My microlit is called ‘The Sisterhood Opens a Window of Opportunity‘ – an email to Snow White, heavy on the corporate jargon. Thank you Cassandra Atherton – editor of the anthology, Bronwyn Mehan – publisher at Spineless Wonders and Rosemarie Milsom – Festival director, for including my piece in this incredibly clever collection of microlit.

The anthology

The launch of Pulped Fiction took place last week. True to the spirit of the times, it was online. But it certainly wasn’t just another Zoom call. We had a pop culture quiz, a cocktail making lesson, readings from the anthology, fancy dress, and presentation of the awards to the two winners of the National and Hunter categories (congratulations, Jane O’Sullivan and Deborah Van Heekeren!)

The launch

I loved watching the incredibly creative readings of these microlit pieces. We had been asked to send in a pre-recorded video, so there was plenty of room for imagination. To fit the theme of my story, my reading was a recorded PowerPoint slideshow (including SmartArt and Transitions because…process flow!) I also can’t resist a fancy dress party, so here is another spin on Pulped Fiction: Snow White & The Seven Deadly Sins.

Eyeliner, not Sharpie.
Hopefully Snow’s on board with the paradigm shift.

Thanks for reading!

♥, Seetha

Drops of Jupiter at the State Theatre

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This month marks the 20th anniversary of the release of Train’s Drops of Jupiter. Yes, TWENTY years since I first wondered how to “act like summer and walk like rain.” So, a repost of one of my early attempts at blogging from 2017.

3 little birds

Train

A (not-at-all star struck) fan’s review of Train’s Play That Song tour in Sydney this August.                                                                                                     

Train appeared on stage to the background noise of…….a train chugging and whistling. And for me, that set the tone for the night: this is a band that has fun. With lyrics, with their audience and with their performance.

The setting was the State Theatre. Stunning as it was, it seemed to warrant an air of restraint in the audience. With his tongue in his cheek, Pat Monahan thanked us for sitting down, as it ‘took the pressure off’. The beauty of this band…

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Letting it simmer

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My slow cooker has been busy lately. With more time at home and fewer reasons to rush, I find myself with the space and the scope to let things simmer. So we’ve had slow-cooked pulled pork, slow-cooked lamb casserole, slow-cooked dhal, and even slow-cooked mulled wine. The ingredients have time to mingle, to get to know one another, to infuse. This is not a wham-bam, pressure-cook-the-life-out-of-you, just-get-it-on-the-table kind of dish. This type of meal savours itself before it is consumed. 

As if ‘mindfulness’ wasn’t already the buzzword of our generation, 2020 has compelled us to live in the present moment. We have been forced to notice and to pay attention to what we do, who we see, what we touch, where we go, what we buy. 

In the words of one of my favourite contemporary poets, Billy Collins:
“The virus is slowing us down to the speed of poetry.” 

And as we slow down and let things simmer, we realise this moment is all we have. Or as Fatboy Slim put it, (repeatedly):
“Right here. Right now.”

So I breathe deeply. I sit in the moment. The world will always be turning. It is up to us to find the stillness we need. It was the modernist poet, T.S. Eliot, who said:
“At the still point of the turning world……there the dance is.”

2020 has been quite a dance. I haven’t always wanted to step onto the dancefloor and join in. Enthusiasm cannot easily be feigned. But our lives are right here, right now. This is our dancefloor. So maybe the moves don’t need to be perfect – they just need a touch of grace, and perhaps a slow-dance or two.  

©2020 Seetha Nambiar Dodd

Fix you

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kintsugi

Kintsugi (“golden joinery”) or kinsukuroi (“golden repair”) is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with a lacquer mixed with powdered gold.

In a metaphorical sense, it signifies embracing imperfections, mistakes and tough times, and accepting these as part of life, in order to create something that is more beautiful, and stronger than it was before.

We all have scars. Kintsugi philosophy tells us we don’t need to hide them. In fact, flaws are highlighted, and become a feature of the design. There is art and beauty in the broken, if we take the time to consider it, rather than discarding something for being imperfect.

And because I’ve been thinking about Kintsugi a lot lately, I’ve started noticing connections with the concept everywhere. Here are some of them:

“The wound is the place where the light enters you.” – Rumi

“The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.” – Khalil Gibran

“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” – Leonard Cohen

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” – Ernest Hemingway

Perhaps, like the Coldplay song, when we are not afraid to learn from our mistakes, our troubles and our flaws, lights will guide us home and ignite our bones. And then we can give ourselves permission to celebrate our scars and make ourselves complete again.

©2020 Seetha Nambiar Dodd

To see a world in a single word

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The Japanese word komorebi does not have a direct English equivalent. It refers to the interplay between light and leaves when sunlight filters through trees. 

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Magical komorebi in Otford, NSW

komorebiHow beautifully specific and eloquent.
The closest we have in English is perhaps ‘dappled sunlight’ but isn’t it wonderful to have one word that holds so much within itself? 

Komorebi is made up of three characters –
tree + escape/leaking through + light/sun.

So:
♥ light, leaking through the trees
♥ the sun, escaping from a tree
♥ sunshine playing with leaves

There is so much poetry in nature.

 

©2020 Seetha Nambiar Dodd
Ps. New header image for 3 little birds created by Nikhita Dodd. 

Literature in the time of Quarantine

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Kintsugi, the ancient Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with powdered gold.

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” – Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

The following sentences were not written for the Coronavirus pandemic (and therefore have been taken completely out of context), but seem to fit our current condition.

I’ve been struggling to write. But reading helps. So today, other people’s words.

On waiting

“Now all you can do is wait. It must be hard for you, but there is a right time for everything. Like the ebb and flow of tides. No one can do anything to change them. When it is time to wait, you must wait.” – Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

On loneliness

“There is a loneliness that only exists in one’s mind. The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart and all they can do is stare blankly.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

On confusion

“I am besieged by such strange thoughts, such dark sensations, such obscure questions, which still crowd my mind and somehow I have neither the strength nor the desire to resolve them. It is not for me to resolve all this!” – Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights.

On peace

“Isolation offered its own form of companionship: the reliable silence of her rooms.” – Jhumpa Lahiri, The Lowland

On hope

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” – Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.” – Roald Dahl, The Minpins

“The taste of things recovered is the sweetest honey we will ever know.” – Paulo Coelho, The Zahir

©2020 Seetha Nambiar Dodd, well, curated by. 

 

 

Oh, that’s clever!

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I noticed an advertisement at my local bus stop the other day that made me smile. It was a NESCAFÉ ad for its Blend 43 Black Roast.

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Their ‘most intense coffee ever’ has a terrifically clever tagline. ‘EATS OTHER COFFEE FOR BREAKFAST.’ It’s bold. Menacing, almost. And so is the typeset. A little research into this ad campaign reveals more clever copy in the print ad: ‘…a true blend of strength, because mornings are no time for weakness,’ and ‘all in the name of full on taste.’

I don’t usually drink instant coffee (oh dear, that sounds like I’m a coffee snob) but I might have to give this one a try. All because it claims to be Rich, Dark and Bold and I like coffee with a bit of attitude.

Some ads are so clever they make me want to be a copywriter. Just as watching L.A. Law made me want to be a lawyer. Or watching the movie Nadia about Romanian gymnast Nadia Comaneci when I was a kid led to repurposing the arm of our sofa as a balance beam and the corners of the carpet for final poses (minus the multiple backflips). Gymnastics and law were obviously short-lived dreams – my flexibility is restricted to bending my thumbs backwards and I find that slamming my hand on the table and shouting ‘Objection!’ doesn’t have quite the same effect as when Jimmy Smits did it in court. But copywriting, there may be life in that dream yet….

The best ads are memorable. The ones that have carved their way into my Advertisement Hall of Fame include:

vidalsassoon

 

1. WORDPLAY: Vidal Sassoon’s 1980s slogan “If you don’t look good, we don’t look good.” A simple play on words that worked for the haircare industry. The models looked good, because supposedly they used Vidal Sassoon haircare products. So the company looked good, because they’ve created products that work, can be trusted, and have an invested interest in you looking good. Simple and so effective.

 

 

 

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2. DIVERSITY: United Colors of Benetton‘s billboards and posters with models of varying ethnicities and skin tones wearing bright, colourful clothes.

Memorable because it was very rare in Malaysia in the 1980s or 90s to see darker-skinned models featured in local advertising, despite the make-up of the local population.

A welcome respite from all those Fair & Lovely commercials, these Benetton ads appealed to me even if no one really wore sweaters in 33°C Kuala Lumpur heat.

3. SHOCK: Pathway Project, a UK-based charity that supports adults and children affected by domestic violence, released an image that quickly went viral on social media just before the 2018 FIFA World Cup. It wasn’t pleasant, but it stuck. abuse

The statistic was based on a 2013 study by Lancashire University, looking at the number of domestic abuse incidents reported to the Lancashire police force over three World Cup tournaments from 2002 to 2010. The authors of the study called it ‘relatively small’. But still disturbing, and I was curious about the rest of the study.

When England lost: domestic abuse rates were 38% higher (than on tournament days when England were not playing).

When England won or drew a match: domestic abuse rates were still 26% higher. I hated the stats, but I loved this ad, and I hoped it had a positive effect.

Which ads, current or past, stick in your head?

©2019 Seetha Nambiar Dodd

Eight ways to lose yourself in a bookstore

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bookwormhole

One. Walk around aimlessly. Soak in the atmosphere of your favourite place to while away a few, blissful hours. Grab the first book you see on the New Releases shelf, sit on the cosy armchair in the corner and lose yourself in another world.

Two. Pick up the latest bestselling picture book, flick through it, laugh out loud, and then kick yourself for not thinking of that clever idea first. Of course farts are funny. Remind yourself to pay attention the next time your five-year-old laughs. Not for a story idea, but because his laugh is the best sound you’ve ever heard.

Three. Browse through the children’s section. Note that the famous cowboy and his astronaut buddy are still doing well on the shelves. Wonder if there will be another instalment to the series. Remember the day your daughter graduated to chapter books. Remind yourself to always read just one more story at bedtime.

Four. Before you know it, you’re in the Young Adults aisle. Suddenly your world is a supernatural, science fiction fantasy with a dash of romance. Potentially with vampires. Lose yourself in a parallel universe. Wonder why you never wore black lipstick as a teenager. Recall fondly that your father would have been amused, but secretly concerned.

Five. Time for a fully-fledged Romance. Greedily devour romance novels with impossibly attractive covers. Remember sneaking a peek at the Mills and Boon on your mother’s bookshelf. Remember the soft flutter of young love. Remember turning the pages of your own love story. 

Six. Right next to Romance is Music. Wonder why there are so many songs about broken hearts. Then find the books that tell the stories behind the songs. Remind yourself to listen to more songs about broken hearts, as well as songs about mended ones.

Seven. Head to the Travel section. Close your eyes and point to something. Open your eyes and smile. It is the city of your childhood. Decide this is a sign to visit the stories of your past, and the people who helped you shape your present.

Eight. Marvel that there are so many books on Parenting. Wonder if your mother ever had this much advice at her fingertips. Know for a fact that your grandmother didn’t, but they both survived motherhood, and so will you.

Look up from your New Release. Look down and be amazed at the contrast between the beige carpet and the colourful, stimulating worlds held together within the pages of the books that have absorbed you.

Know that it is possible to lose yourself and find yourself at the same time.

©2019 Seetha Nambiar Dodd

The Grieve Project 2019

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Thank you, Hunter Writers Centre for the honour of being published in this year’s Grieve anthology.

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My Grandmother, searching for words

For Muthashi

She is searching for words set within a square grid in a book of puzzles. There is a list, next to the grid, of all the hidden words that need to be found. She circles each word as she finds it, ticks it off the list and smiles at me. ‘Never give up,’ she says. The words are all there, waiting to be found.

She is struggling to see the words as her eyesight worsens, so we get large-print puzzle books, and she continues searching. Despite this not being her first language, she does not give up until she finds the words. The words are all there, waiting to be found.

She is losing words. I know this is normal, because they warned me of her decline, but I am not prepared for the day I visit, and she has lost my name, and suddenly I am lost, floating in the confusion of her memory, drifting in the swirls of her mind. She is my base, my headquarters, my mothership. If she does not know who I am, who am I? Still, she doesn’t give up. I remind her, she nods, she forgets. The words are there, and we find them together.

She is no longer searching for words, but this is not because she has given up. She is fighting, and the fight consumes all her strength. The words are still there, but we know she can’t find them. Slowly, she slips away, and then the words are lost forever. Along with the words I wish I’d heard, and the words I wish I’d said.

Now it is up to us to search for the words. The soft, gentle words to inform family and friends of her passing. The correct, respectful words to write in her obituary. The weighty, healing words that fall from our hearts onto paper. The rich, evocative words to remember an entire life. We search for these words. There is no grid to contain the search. There is no list of all the hidden words that need to be found. There is no guide for grief. But we try. We don’t give up. We find the words.

©2019 Seetha Nambiar Dodd