Rupinion

The Bewildered Soldier:Lost in the Divine Decree

2010-08-23T19:43:00.000-07:00

Like the lonely melody of the flute in the moonlight
You hear it coming, nearer than never before.
Like the whispering wind on a cold mountain top,
You feel it coming, closer than ever before.

Not a soul cries for the faded rose
Withered in a silent cold desert night
Blown by the wind, buried in the sand
Lost in the unknown dunes of destiny
Never talked about, never thought about
Ever again in the tales of time.

Not a soul cries for the wounded sparrow
Dying beneath the crumbling autumn leaves
Soaked in rain, bleeding to death
Lost in the unknown harvest of destiny
Never talked about, never thought about
Ever again in the tales of time.

Not a soul cries for the weeping lover
Mourning over the dying nihilist
Suffering in soul, agony in heart
Lost in the unknown battles of destiny
Never talked about, never thought about
Ever again in the tales of time.

Like a soldier guarding the falling fort,
Standing helpless, yet ferocious in the battle ground
It’s a battle lost, to be forgotten in history
Yet you fight to death, lest you be called the coward

Down by the arrow, lies the wretched soldier
Lost in the unknown whirls of destiny
Never talked about, never thought about
Ever again in the tales of time.

Dream

2010-08-15T08:58:00.000-07:00

Whats worse than a broken dream?
To have to see your dream being lived in front of your eyes..

Hope

2010-07-21T19:26:00.000-07:00

They say hope is a good thing

But there is a good thing about losing hope too. And that is that you lose your fear too!

Its all about tiramisu...or may be it is not...

2010-05-15T20:07:00.000-07:00

Tiramisu is one of the most popular Italian desserts, made from lady finger biscuits and strong coffee layered with a whipped mixture of egg cheese and sugar and topped with cocoa. Someone who has ever had a tiramisu will definitely treasure its distinctive flavor, and would be able to distinguish it anytime later.
I have not tasted the perfect or authentic tiramisu but I treasured the idea. And I was sure I would love it. And I waited for the perfect time.Desperately.
So I walked into this so-hyped ice cream parlour.People told me it was good, it was the best place where I could expect to have a taste of tiramisu. I was given a piece of cake. It was a chocolate cake, it had coffee powder topping and whipped creame, and they called it tiramisu.
It is really good, it is delicious, but ...but it is not tiramisu.
And ...I wanted a tiramisu.

Fragrance of memories...

2008-04-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

Fragrances…more than what they are, they are more about what they bring to us.
The people, places, memories , feelings associated with them.
Written many times, many places, I take the tag too, here.

The first rains on the parched earth…this might be the most clichéd fragrance liked by almost all. What is it about the smell of the earth at the first rain that is so enchanting?
May be it emphasizes the saying that we come from, we return to and we all belong to the earth. Even I don’t know what it is about, but it takes my mood to a different level, which I may describe as mystic?

The fragrance of the starched clothes, dried in the sun. May be one of the sweetest memories from my childhood would be helping my mother dry her long cotton sarees in the sun.
Once starched, the saree is stretched out with me holding one end of it and mother at the other end and drying out in the sun. The modern day instant starches or the drier machines may have made life easier , but that sweet memory lingers along with the fragrance. And may be that could be one reason, I feel pictures of clothlines with clothes stretched out, a beautiful one.

The smell of coriander powder. The most basic ingredient to many of the Kerala dishes. The reminder of feasts..Christmas, Easter, special days. I know, some people may think it quite queer to consider the mundane smell of something so trivial as one of my favorites. But for me, the smell of Coriander is the first sign of something good in the making. The delicacy, however good it may smell, however good it may taste, the smell of the coriander from where it starts captures me more.

Strong coffee. Along with the fragrance of the coffee comes the feel of its addiction. May be its because I am addicted so much to coffee that I love the smell of coffee beans and fresh strong coffee. Be it to console my depressed mind, or to enjoy something sweet secretly, or to enjoy the rain, or to let out my anger over something, or to celebrate my solitude…I depend so much on coffee…and hence, may be, the smell of coffee enthralls me.

The smell of Cuticura powder. The smell of my mother. It may have been a wedding, the Sunday morning church or the first show at the cinema. The few occasions she gets ready to go out. Fresh from bath , sun dried saree and the cuticura powder. It’s the warmth, it’s the presence, it’s the touch. Its mother.

Rubber sheets put up under the chimney to be dried. I don’t know how many of you could recognize this smell…but for me it’s the smell of vacation. The smell of summer. The smell of my childhood. The smell of my roots. The dark rooms in the house and the dark courtyards outside. The kitchen where the fire and the smoke never died down. The bananas and the rubber sheets tied up above the stove to be dried. The togetherness of a joint family.

Medimix soap – Well, I have never been able to keep away those little craziness and this would be one of them. I feel the fragrance of medimix soap is one of the most romantic one I know of. No, I do not have any memory to associate with the smell , or any people…but for no reason, I love its fragrance.

Frankincense – {I googled the term } – Chirstmas night. I have been to the midnight service in church only a few times in my life but there is nothin else that comes to my mind as strong as the memory of the christmas night at church , with the smell of frankincense. The cold night, the sound of crackers and carols…the christmas star…the chirstmas crib…the twinkiling small bulbs and the content mind as I kneel down…pure bliss.

I may have missed so many of my memories…and hence so many fragrances…the smell of new books, the smell of slate pencils…the smell of Rexona and Cinthol soaps, the smell of broot, the fragrance of jasmine flowers, the smell of nutmeg, the smell of amrutanjan are all memories…old and new…fresh and torn apart…may be if not for the fragrances, I would lost the memories too, long ago…

Anyone want to continue?...

2008-04-13T16:39:00.000-07:00

It was some days of dreaded silence. When I tried hiding from the world, hiding from the problems, hiding from relations, hiding from people and hiding from myself. At the end of which, I realize, it doesn't help a bit. Unless they are faced and shoved away, they don't go away by themselves.
So at the end of the introspections, I declare for myself, I don't deserve to stay in the ditch for ever. Why one mourn, when the world celebrates. Why one stay away , when the world parties. So here I am, to join the party.
Now, all I wish is to get back. Get back and get into those roads, that belong to me.Go for a long walk, get a chocolate or a coffee for myself , stare at the high class life across the road and get lost in my dreams. I need to celebrate....just celebrate.

Kill them!

2008-02-28T18:29:00.000-08:00

When does one lose the right to live?
-When one ceases to support oneself.

When does one lose the right to happiness?
-When one ceases to amuse oneself.

When does one lose the right to hope?
-When one ceases to live for one's dreams.

And what to do with those who have lost all these rights?
-Kill them! Kill them hard!

Dreams never come for wholesale!

2008-01-17T21:49:00.000-08:00

A pale of gloomy staleness…then a chilly wind…
And then the white flakes of snow…

I checked the messenger list once again…No ..no one there to share the excitement.
I glanced through the phone book. Gone were the days, when I could simply dial a number and shout out “Hey, its snowing”.
All I could do was to blankly look out into the white fields and wonder , how true was my friend, who tried to convince me always “dreams come true…though in packets of different shape than what was asked for.”

Dreams have always been unlimited. Many of them, not hoped to or wished to come true.
To see snow, was just one of them.
And I still say, monsoons back home is much more enchanting than a snowfall!

Well, so are dreams being sent from above in small packets? Who knows!
But then I have also dreamed of bringing the first Wimbledon title home, being the single Prime Minister of a united nation of India and Pakistan, winning a cricket match when my side needs 36 of the last over (yes, it was before the T20 times! :)) , solving the most difficult issue in the spacecraft by the stroke of a single key (Ah! Those days I thought as we see in movies, a series of hard thinking and background music and finally a doubtful stroke of some red key on the keyboard panel is the solution to all computeric problems! ) and so on…

A beutiful dream....just got over.

2008-01-06T17:35:00.000-08:00

A beautiful dream just got over.
How I wish, my guardian angels stood over
Not just when I walked, but in my dreams too.

If ever I knew, they were not with me when I woke up
I would have said a prayer, before I went to sleep
Let there be no dreams today, peacefully let me sleep.

If ever I knew, they were not with me when I woke up
I would stay awake all night, not an eyelid closed
For I dread the broken dreams more than the sleepless nights.

O dear friends, wish me not good night.
Mamma my dear, kiss me not good night.
For if dreams are to be broken, let me never fall asleep.

Unpacking the suitcases.

2007-12-25T16:44:00.000-08:00

To begin a new life is always a nice thing to do.
To move to places...to start all over again...
Especially when your life hasnt been going well. Even otherwise.
And I have been fortunate ( or unfortunate) to keep moving from places to places.
Just when I think, I have set my foot and have started settling down...I have been asked to move on. May be a special message to me from God, that nothing stays for ever? Or not to get attached to anything or anyone beyond the limit to say bye anytime?
anyways, so here I am in the new room. Just finished setting up my room, and my little table. I feel great. not thinking about the wonderful time I may have in this new place, not worrying about adjusting to this entirely new place, but simple, the thought that I have this little space given for myself makes me feel great.

I remember , the first time I moved out of home to a hostel room, it was just one suticase full of clothes, the hand written old letters and birthday cards of dear friends, my treasured diary and the bible that I carried. The suitcase got full with many more things in the hostel with each passing birthday, the numerous letters of friends left behind...the anticipation of those letters is some feeling that cannot be explained or expressed, and even more diaries.

When I left for the first job, the suitcases were more, but again, things werre almost similar. More clothes (even costlier than last time, cause I was moving into a "corporate" world :)),more letters, the same old bible ( but with the difference that the pages of Psalms was also distinguishly seen as read .Thanks to my unseen friend during college days who made me realize there was more to read in the Bible than just the new testament ).

Then it was moving from places to places. Without much difference,the clothes moved on, the Bible moved on, though the letters remained the same( nothing more added sadly!).

And this time, as I unpacked, I was surprised myself to see the items I had to arrange. When did old torn letters and postcards give way to laptop, camera, pendrives, gadgets and all electronic items!
Still, at the corner of the suitcase, there is still the Bible, that has moved on (though read less these days!:().

The mornings...

2007-12-10T11:51:00.001-08:00

Morning blues...yes, I have been a victim too...
But still...in the faint memories, there are memories of mornings, sweet and beloved.

######
One of the best mornings I remember is during the vacation time back home during my childhood.
We would wake up to the morning news on Akashavani...I dont know if anyone ever heard the news, but it would be going on loud...
You can hear them at the kitchen, amidst the thick smoke from the clay stove. You can hear them at the bathroom, where someone would be always taking bath.
You can hear them at the varanda, where all the elders would be reading the paper sipping the hot coffee, and discussing Mani group and Joseph group politics...
I dotn know if its the news that woke me up those days, but the feeling of waking up to another day of play and fun in a joint family...more than the blues of waking up in the morning, I would treasure thembfor ever.

#######
The very rare overnight journeys during earlier days in life. May be it was the tour from school, or the vacation where you travel to visit relatives.
As you open your eyes to the cold wind that tickled you, the dawn would be just breaking out and your bus climbing the ever so fresh mountain ranges.
It may soon stop for everyone to have a hot tea, and you can see the small vehicles climbing the hairpin bends that your bus has already conquered.
The mornign was ever so fresh then!

#####
The exam may have been tough...it may have been easy. But it was the last one. And you wake up , as usual and realize its a two month vacation lying to embrace you with all its warmth. You just sit up on the bed and wonder where to start. Thats an ever so amusing feeling.

#####
And these days? Staying up awake all night, have you lost the freshness of waking up in the morning? To wake up at so odd hours only to smile at the message on the mobile phone or trying hard to complete the half broken dream , is that what triggers your mornings these days??

A cup of coffee

2007-12-02T00:04:00.000-08:00

It was snowing hard in Seattle. As a child, one of her fondest dreams used to be walking in the snow, all alone. But now, everything seemed out of the place. All she wished now was to get back to the cosy warm room and have a cup of coffee.

"How do you drink your coffee so hot? Coffee tastes best when at room temperature." He said.
That was one of their first meetings in the cafe.
"Hmm..atleast this be one topic where I know as much as you?You have it as dull and as cool as always. And I will have it hot. Hot strong and sweet". She smiled.

They always met for coffee. And they discussed coffee. Not that they did not have anything more interesting to talk about, but every time they met over a cup of coffee, they would go on talking so long about the coffee that by the time, it would be time for her to leave.

It was always she who had to take the leave first. Even on the messenger window, their discussions would go on, until she said bye. This time too, it was her who had to take the leave.

As she poured the hot coffee into the cup and left it to to cool, she was wondering....miles away, he must be having his coffee, steaming hot and wondering who taught him to drink coffee so hot!

Stay back, those eloping memory cells!

2007-11-16T22:04:00.000-08:00

Back to office after the short 4 day vacation, I was amazed at myself that I could not remember my network password. Finally, I needed the help of the admins to unlock and reset my password. I asked myself for once, was I falling into the alzchiemer's category? But 30 is even along way to go!
But then, I do remember it was raining heavily on the first day in school, that Dec 6th is the day when we saw last of our doggie Jimmy some 12 years ago, Sachin had bowled the last over against SA in the hero cup again almost a decade ago, my first doll lived with its one eye after the first week etc. But I can't remember half of my online user ids , passwords, recent acquaintance's names, tasks! May be they were right, when they said women remember to details all the unnecessary things, and forget the important matters!
Yeah, so now, whenever someone asks me a favor, I tell them back, "please remind me after some time". I try to ignore the grin that I see on their face. And when I have to introduce common acquaintances, I very smartly skip their names! They may find me manner less, but wouldn't it be even more sinful, to say I don't remember their names? :)
I told my friend I am going to take a daily dose of "JyothishBrahmi" but then she said, our brains were in degrading state and not in developing state. Sad!
I hope I have enough of memory cells left with me when I am fifty, to think back on these days and smile. In case, I don't...probably, I should start writing a detailed autobiography, so that I can at least read and wonder...was that my life???

Random...

2007-10-21T10:36:00.000-07:00

Mysore looks beautiful over the weekend...
The town is clad in lights and decorations.
As we joined the huge crowd occupying the palace grounds to see the majestic palace adorned in light bulbs(they say around 96,000 of them), we all exclaimed the same thing..."We have read about Dassara in Mysore in our social studies books..and here we are, at the palace!"
The crowd was splendid too, unlike the crowd of Kerala. ( Ok, I am not generalizing, but every single time I have tried to board a crowded bus or join a crowd back in Kerala, I have had bad taste!). We did not have a single bad experience(touchwood!) moving along with the crowd for a pretty long time.

I knew, after watching the great adventures and skills on TV, the mediocre performance of the circus people are not going to enthrall me. Every time they put up a performance and end with the charming smile, I was reminded even more of the dreadful stories and articles about the circus camps. I wonder if they still hold true, but if they are, it must be pretty hard for them to put up that smile at the end of their performance. And for me, the thought that I was able to exclaim a word of wonder and say wow, as I saw the trapeze acts and the bikers in the death well consoled me....I still haven't lost it all.. The magic blessing to get wondered and be amused.

Results...

2007-10-17T11:10:00.000-07:00

Some years ago...
"Yaar..the results are out...heard a few flunked"
"I guess its getting tougher. They need to be lenient. Strict correction to make people flunk is not going to help them or us"
"But the syllabus itself is getting tougher"

Overheard at the office pantry a few days ago...
"Man, the results are out...not quite encouraging"
"I guess its stagnating. We need to diversify. Sticking to one core area is not going to help them or the employees"
"But market itself is stagnating man"

Yes, everyone is growing....but some things never change! :-)

Boxshops of Kerala.... :)

2007-10-10T10:40:00.000-07:00

People say that you know you are getting old when you start feeling nostalgic too often. Seems, these days, I am getting older at a rate faster than the BSE,that anything and everything makes me nostalgic!
This weekend, on my way back home, I saw the changing face of "pettikkadas"** in Kerala. Almost all of them had a decorated line of the red Bingo packets. I don't know if its a specialized marketing strategy of Bingo ,that they have targeted these pettikkadas instead of the retail shops and supermarkets on large scale. But definitely, such packets were unheard to be , in my "nostalgic past".

Pettikadas be it in the north most or south most part of Kerala, had a standard list of items on the chart.
The "murukkaan" (local pan),scissors cigarettes(note- its not even Wills, but only Scissors cigarettes, Dinesh beedi, a few jars of sweets -kappilandi muttai and few others...which are all nothing but melted sugar molded to different shapes and colours, but definitely they tasted better than tobleorone and rosches . And we used to get so many of them for even 25 paise. And see how times have changed...Just yesterday, when I gave four 25 paise to the canteen vendor who asked me for a change of one rupee, the look he gave me made me wonder whether I had just called him the most forbidden expletive!!

Back to the pettikkada, not to miss the special soda bottles. I have not seen those bottles off late, but they used to be the trademark of those tiny little roadside shops and an essential itinerary for the one minute stop during the long journeys. The bottle locked by a marble at the neck, you ought to push the marble inside to drink the soda. Sadly, I have never had one of them, cause I was always afraid, the marble may just fall out and choke me to death!!
Ha, marbles!!! Of all colours and designs...that brings me another train of "nostalgic " memories (which means I have grown older by another 10 years??!!!)

Then the "illustrated weeklies" of Kerala. Shamelessly or proudly let me say, I started my venture into Malayalam literature from those "johnykutty susanna " stories :-). Probably that's why, I never progressed much beyond that ! :)

And today, those pettikadas have gone for a totally revamped look! With Airtel, Reliance and Vodafone (yes, HUTCH IS NOW VODAFONE :))display boards and Lays, Perks and Bingo packets taking the shelves, should I say I am proud to see the progressing economy of the villages, or be sad that I have to add more items to those "nostalgic" list.

All said and done, my friend jokingly asked me recently, "can you tell me one thing that doesn't make you nostalgic". Yes, may be, I am indeed growing very very old :(

**petti=box
kada =shop. So petitkkada=boxshop ,a shop as small as the box, or in the shape of a box or a shop where you get boxes ???:):) Blame my poor English, I do not know the translation of pettikkada :). The road side small tiny shops, roughly.

The years have passed by...

2007-10-02T10:08:00.000-07:00

Dreams...myths....those carried all along the childhood,teenage and college days. Sometimes, you can't hide a smile on reflecting back on them.

* Howzaattt!
Those summers of exams and cricket, when we couldn't decide ourselves which was more important.Watching the match live in the small TV room where the chairs and sofa set wouldn't be enough to accommodate the entire audience, one of my starred items I added to my wish list was to watch a match live in a stadium with the same audience. Those were the times , when life beyond the Kottayam town was unheard, the biggest stadium that one could imagine was the Nehru stadium in the middle of the town (and we measured each monsoon, the strength of the rain by the number of steps under water in Nehru stadium). Now, when conditions are favourable for the dream to come true, neither the audience remains, nor the passion for cricket matches.

* Where 's the party tonight?
Movies and books portrayed parties as the most interesting things in the life of the high class( the meaning of high class even was different then!). I wished I was in a job, where there would be corporate parties, and friends gathered together for fun and joy. And today, when ever the e-mail for "project party" lands in my mailbox, the next thought is "what excuse could I make for today" :-)

* May I have your attention please...
Corporates meant meetings. And meeting meant highly professional where everyone talked business. I do not remember the number of times, I have practiced in front of the mirror with that highly professional look , "Mr.Smith, could I suggest a new idea...how about..." and I always carried a thick file in those imaginations. Fortunately or unfortunately, the designs that adorn my college notebook and the notepads of the "corporate" meetings are exactly the same (or in simple words, I never grew beyond drawing flowers,stars and modern art while attending sessions)

* 60 words per minute?
Pappa owned an old type writer which he bought from a German.We curiously watched wheever Pappa chaged the carbon ribbons or cleaned the keys in between. We were allowed to touch it only when he was gifted an electronic wordprocessor. Thats when I tried learning typing. I did imagine of owning a word processor some time in life( computer,then, may have been like dreaming to be on moon some day) and typing with out even looking at the keyboard. "asdfg, ;lkjh", I practiced day and night, but never did I learn proper typing. Today also, I spend more than 12 hours of a day with this word processor, but still I can't help taking a look at the keyboard very frequently.

To kill the happiest person....

2007-09-25T10:36:00.000-07:00

Its the seventh day today I have been carrying this loaded gun.
Still searching for the target.
I wanted to kill the happiest person on this earth. Because he had what I lacked.
As my life got messier and I got more and more entangled in sorrows, I saw people around me smiling. Their life went on smoothly even when mine was getting stagnant.
And hence I started on this mission.

I went to the landlord. He had all the land in the world and money and luxury. But no children. So I left him and continued my search.
I went to the artist. He seemed totally impressed with his own creations. But he craved for a glass of wine , with no money.
I went to him and her. They were lost themselves in their love. I thought they were happy. But they cried in the pain of love.
I went around and around, searching for the happiest person on this earth.

And here I am today, with the gun point aimed at my temple and saying good bye to the world.I couldn't find anyone happier than me.

Fun or sacrifice?

2007-09-23T00:33:00.000-07:00

They are still searching for his body in the ever angry river for the third day today.
I do not know him or have seen him before.
But I know his mother, who right now, is in the inner room, whimpering in between and staring at the wall otherwise.
It was in last April that she had been to our house, describing the ever adventurous son of hers.
Who loved travel, trekking and adventure of all means.
Who climbed the highest peaks, crossed the most dangerous rivers and traversed the most difficult terrains.

For all those people who love adventure, who believe, that treading those unreachable lands at the risk of a possible mishap is all worth the effort, I would want to ask just one question
“Have you ever thought for once, just once, what you risk is not your life, but the joy of many others who ought to suffer just because you thought “it was fun” ?

Yes, if you do not climb up that one steep hill, you may be missing one of the most breathtaking experiences in your life.
Yes, if you do not plunge into that river that have taken thousands of lives, you may have just missed a moment of bliss.
Yes, if you do not press the accelerator to make that dangling needle touch 100, you may be missing one of the most exciting moments in life.
But, but you still continue to live…

No, your life is least important here. Not even that of a blade of grass it would value.
You could die in an accident this very moment, you could die of a disease, you could be murdered by an insane killer....or you would be giving your life away for a cause.
But knowingly walking the path of silence, just to satisy your selfish need of fun is unforgivable.
You may tell me, there is only one in ten thousand chances that you meet with an accident, but I would tell you, if there was one in ten thousand, there could always be two in ten thousand and one.
Your life...you could play with it, you could simply throw it away, you could simply end it…only if you are 101% sure, there is not even one single soul on this earth, who would shed a tear for you.
Who would just wish for one second atleast, “wish you were here”.

I tell you, its worth the sacrifice that you do for that one drop of tear that could be shed for you....all the fun that these adventure or what ever name you call it, gives you….

If I had a chance to meet those people just before they walked into death, not for a cause ,but just for fun, I would have only one word to say

“If you couldn’t make the life of people around you any better by being here for so long, at least lets not make it even worse by not being here.”

Stranger....

2007-09-18T08:34:00.000-07:00

They said I had been in the second floor of that building for almost five years now, and there I was on the elevator, wondering which floor I wanted to go.
That probably may have been the first day I realized, everything was not alright.

Memories were sweet, memories were all I had, all my life. And I was losing them all.
I was told that I had been married to this person who is sitting by the window, for 34 years now. I do not know. Not even in the faintest of my memories I remember his face or days with him. May be I would have loved him with all my heart, may be we would have watched the rain from there, cuddled up in each other's arms and whispering to each other what we meant to each other, but I do not remember.

I hope, at least for once I would have told him then, that my love for him would stand the test of time and memories of human mind.It may have been a broken promise, but still I hope I would have let him known. For , now I stand before a stranger who loves me for my past...

Three apples

2007-09-10T00:44:00.000-07:00

The sinful apple

I was fed up with life. There was no reason to go on.
Anywhere I turned, I saw my enemies.
That’s when I took an LIC policy, with my greatest enemy as the nominee.
I had more than enough reasons to live on now, and I lived ever happily.

The wrong apple

It took me some years to realize that I was in the wrong job.
I wanted to quit rather than suffering in a place where I did not belong.
But then there was no way out. By then, I was the CEO of the company.

The orphaned apple

They said two is a company and three is a crowd.
We were two and we were a company.
Then the third one came.
Little did I know then, that I would be the crowd from then on.

Choice of a life time...

2007-08-29T09:46:00.000-07:00

How long does it take to know a person?
A lifetime of course.
And you are expected to answer the question “Do you like him” from the five minute meeting you had.
A person, who you had no idea, that he existed on earth before these five minutes.
A person, who you don’t know, if he prefers you taking the lead in the conversation.
A person, who you don’t know if he likes talking about cricket.
A person who you don’t know if he enjoys the wind at the sunset on a beach.
A person who you don’t know if he enjoys munching the peanuts as you take the long walk.
A person who you don’t know if he likes coffee or tea.
A person who you don’t know if he appreciates that you are an individual with equal emotions, ambitions and challenges.

And you are supposed to decide whether you would like to spend the rest of your life with him in those five minutes.
You are supposed to select a life time companion for you in those five minutes, when all your life you believed companionships just happen and are not made.
You are supposed to believe that you have chosen your soulmate…who reads every single thought of yours, when you don’t even know if the person who sits in front of you enjoys reading Ruskin Bond or Ayn Ryand!

And I am surprised by the fact; most of the people I have known in my life have made the right decision in those five minutes or even less.
Life is indeed beyond our reign and control!

Money...

2007-08-20T07:34:00.001-07:00

If I had a ten rupee note, I could have a coffee with a friend…but then it wouldn’t be enough for a tropical ice berg.
If I had a hundred rupee note I could buy a meal for 4 starving street kids. But then, the number of such starving stomachs always exceeds the number of 100 rupee note you could get.
If I had 45,000 rupees I could buy a laptop…but then, I would still need another 45k for a good one.
If I had 1 lakh rupees, I could save a kidney patient from death..but the number of kidney patients exceeds lakhs…
If I had 3 lakh rupees, I could live happily….but then I read today, it wouldn’t be enough to spend one night in the most luxurious hotel in Mumbai.
Money is never enough…be it for necessity…or for luxury…

എന്നോ ഒരു അവധിക്കാലം.

2007-08-18T00:54:00.000-07:00

വേനലവധി തുടങ്ങുബോഴേക്കും റബറ്ത്തോട്ടം മുഴുവന് ഒരു കരിയിലക്കാടായിട്ടുഡാകും.ആ തോട്ടത്തിലാണ് കുട്ടികള് പകലന്തിയോളം കളിക്കുക.തെക്കേ പറമ്ബു നിറയേ കശുമാവുകളാണ്. അടുത്തു തന്നെയാണു തൊഴുത്തും കച്ചിത്തുറുവും. തോട്ടത്തിലേ റബറ്ക്കായ്കള് പെറുക്കിയും അരുകിലെ ജാതിമരം കൈയേറിയും പല കളികളില് മുഴുകി സന്ധ്യ മയങ്ങുന്നതറിയാറില്ല. കിണട്ടുക്കരയില് വെള്ളം കോരി മേലു കഴുകുമ്ബൊള് ഇരുളു വീണ റബറ്ത്തോട്ടത്തിലെക്കു വെറുതേ നോട്ടം പായും. കരിയിലക്കിടയില് അനങ്ങുന്നതു മൂറ്ഖന്നാകുമോ എന്നു.

മിക്കപ്പോഴും അത്താഴം എടുക്കുബൊഴെക്കും ബള്ബ് മിന്നി മിന്നി അണഞ്ഞിട്ടുന്ഠാകും. മെഴുകുതിരി വെട്ടത്തില് ഈച്ചകളെ പായിച്ചും ഒരോ ഉരുള ചോറു കാലിലുരുമിയിരിക്കുന്ന കുറിഞ്ഞിപൂച്ചക്കു പങ്കുവെച്ചും അത്താഴം തീറ്ക്കുമ്ബോഴെക്കും മഴയും തുടങ്ങിയിരിക്കും.

ദൂരെ എവിടെയോ മാക്കാച്ചികളും ചീവീടുകളും ചിലച്ചു തുടങ്ങുമ്ബോള് കുട്ടികളൊക്കെയും മെത്തയില് സ്ഥാനം പിടിച്ചിരിക്കുന്നു. സുഖകരമായ ഉറക്കത്തിലേക്കു വഴുതുമ്ബൊള് കണ്ട സ്വപ്നങ്ങളൊക്കെയും ഇന്നുകളെ കുറിച്ചായിരുന്നു.

ആന്നും ഇന്നും ആകാശത്തിലെ നക്ഷത്രങ്ങളെ നോക്കി പുജ്ഞിരിയോടെ ഓറ്ക്കുന്ന 2

വരികളുണ്ടു

......നീലാകാശം പീലിവിടറ്ത്തി ....പച്ച പനയോല............

Indian pizzaa...

2007-08-15T20:31:00.000-07:00

We were at the restaurant to have the first meal of the day.
I don’t remember a single day back home, when I missed a meal of the day, be it breakfast, lunch, dinner or even evening tea.
And here we were, grooving ourselves into the metro culture, skipping breakfast and lunch on a holiday to have a posh dinner.

“Mamma…I want pizza”
“No da…there is no pizza in this hotel, we will have something else..”
The little boy was getting restless at the next table.
“No mamma..I want only pizzaa…”
“Ask this waiter also, there is no pizzaa…”
The waiter smiled and replied…
“Pizzaa only in pizza hut…we will give you something which tastes exactly the same….that is called cheese naan”
“Yes da…we will have cheese naan”
“but mummy, pizzaaa…?”
“This taste exactly like pizzaa da….we will have cheese naan”

That’s when my phone rang. Call from home.
“Yes mummy, I had breakfast and lunch. And now, we are having dinner outside.”

What a world is this! Where everyone lied to their loved ones!

The little boy was still waiting for this cheese naan when we left the restaurant.
I hope he approves that cheese naan do resemble pizza in taste.

Beauty...

2007-08-10T07:23:00.000-07:00

Lipsticks are nice to see on beautiful girls. Lipsticks are nice to see in ads.
But to feel yourself choked in your workplace from morning to evening with the pungent smell of lipstick is not so good to feel about.

Ethnic day it was called at office. People given the liberty to express themselves??
May be yes. That’s why may be, the girls never let their lipstick lose its shine from morning to evening.
Beauty doesn’t come easy…they were right!
It must be a painful task to pursue it. Yes, you need to pursue it. It doesn’t come and stay for ever!

So, why am I feeling so apprehensive about it? :):)
My life taught me a lot of lessons that may be, made me a better person.
One lesson that it never taught me and I still fail to learn could be that being a geek may be a cool thing. But they are not entertained among girls except if not accompanied by a charm –of whatever means! :):)

A blissful life!

2007-08-05T19:54:00.000-07:00

They say, to see Taj Mahal is a bliss in itself.
I haven’t seen the Taj Mahal. But I sure know what bliss is.
Some moments in your life, those little things that make you feel good…I have experienced them. Not one, but many…and still do have. Sure,mine, like each one of the others, is a blissful life!

It was just a dream!
From the times I can remember, one recurring dream of mine has been falling from a great height. Haven’t seen them of late, but all my childhood has been troubled by this one dream. And just when you fall through the never ending height and just when you hit the ground, you open the eyes. The relief that it was just a dream, and I am still alive in all senses is one of most blissful moments I have ever come across.

I have another hour to go!
One of those cozy cold rainy mornings, when you ought to get up early to get ready to school or office. And you wake up some time in the early hours of dawn, only because the blanket has just slid by and the cold wind tickled your leg. You can still hear the rain outside, the darkness slowly giving way to daylight, “suprabhatham” being played in some temple near by, and you look at the clock to realize you can sleep for another hour more! Heaven couldn’t be a better place. You gather yourself under the blanket, and cuddle yourself like a kitten, hoping, the dream that was broken can be continued. Pure bliss!

Hi there?
Some days, you just feel lonely. For no reason. And you start searching for company. Friends near you may not help, family may not help. As you keep hopping from browsers to browsers, and check your email for the tenth time for some emails that were never sent but hoped to be received, a messenger window pops up “Hi there?”…You cannot resist a smile, a smile from the heart…and a thankyou note,just said in the mind…

Is the fever still on?
Yes, you are feeling terrible ill. You are missing school and you see that stupid dream of someone chasing you, again. Suddenly you feel the warmth of a strong palm on your forehead. Its Pappa, checking if the temperature is still high. You feel the weight of that strong palm against your weak body. You have never told him how secure, how comfortable you felt on that one warm touch that drove away your fears. But you treasure it as one of the blissful moments of your life.

Two pieces of bread and a smile...
What does it cost to have a moment of bliss?
Two pieces of bread and a smile!
That’s what Babu taught me. Babu may not be his real name.
But that’s what the Ashram people called the old insane man who was found in the street, among the stray dogs fighting in the garbage bin.
“You are such a sweet person. I will ask my son to marry you. He is a big engineer, earning 1 lakh rupees . Will you give me bread everyday?”
That’s what he told me as we gave the bread to the Ashram officials. He may or may not have a son , he may or may not mean what he says, but the tear that shined in his eyes, as he held my hand…I will remember him for a life time.

There may be another million blissful moments, yet to be shared. But here I stop.
Many times, I have felt my life is a mess. But then, each day, life offers so many of these blissful moments, that you are helpless but live on...
This is not a tag, but anyone(if at all anyone!!!) reading this, could take it on...
After all, isn't this what the very short life of ours is all about!

An hour -long time back -Part 1

2007-08-02T07:04:00.000-07:00

How long does it take to define one's destiny? An hour may be?

Aug 7th 2004. I remember the taste of vada that Pappa brought for me at the Kottayam railway station as we were waiting for the Island express. My first overnight journey!
Was I thrilled at that "night train journey dream" come true or proud that I was going for my first job or still reflecting back the tears seen in Mamma's and my sister's eyes? I still don't know. Many more jobs may come and go, but Aug 9th 2004 will always remain my first day in my first job!

So, how long does it take to define one's destiny? may be even less than an hour?

1998, when we took those much awaited breaks during study hours in school, we always discussed what each one of us would become in life. Dimple was to become a business consultant for sure, Dane a doctor, Babi a teacher. Choices were tough for Jam and myself :). And how confidently I declared
"No way! I can't even imagine working with machines day in and day out. Machines that don't understand your emotions, machines that cannot respond to your emotions. And you work your whole day so that some million dollar company can become a billion dollar company? What do we do for the society!?Not me,an engineer, for sure!" I can smile at that now.

So, how long does it take to define one's destiny? may be even less than an hour?

Me : I don't want to join Science group
They: Lets take Science, you always have options after 12th.

Me: I am not sure if I want to write the entrance.
They : We will buy the application form, what if you feel like writing later.

Me: No, I am not going to entrance today
They : Just write, its a matter of 2 hours, lets decide later, whether you go for it or not.

And that less than half an hour introspection that made me "just attempt" a single exam dictated my life for next seven years, and may be many more years ahead? Unbelievingly true!!

Yes, the ride of seven years...and the life time of memories that go along. Bitter or sweet, I wouldn't classify them. But they are here to stay!
No, I am not going to look back and see if I chose the right path. If I were to be taken back in time and given that half an hour to make the decision once again, I don't know if I would choose to skip that exam and I don't know if I am happy to be where I am right now. I just know, even when the "self help gurus" say "You make your destiny", life always offers us the strangest of the ironies, toughest of the choices, and the most unplanned destinies. And all you could and ought to do is...live them!

And queit flows the code...

2007-07-26T20:33:00.000-07:00

"My time has come dear. I can't hide any more"
It was time for him to go. The legend who I called the Mirage, who stood the test of time and aggression for three long years would give up in a short while.
And I would be left alone, to hide from the hunters for an existence.

"Hi, I am Tweenie. I was born without a name like most of us, and it was Mirage who first called me Tweenie.
Because he said I was like a teenager, with swaying behaviour.
I did not express myself when I had to, and I sometimes showed nasty anger, when I had t o hide myself.
And yes, like Mirage, Twister who was with us till last week, Prodigy who showed talent but also gave up her life in the early years and many others , I am also a code bug.

It was one of those world cup football days that I was born, when the developer half asleep after the night match carelessly gave me my blood and flesh.
I wanted to see the world, travel places and be known to all. I began to express myself, that's when the wise Mirage told me in my ears -be calm.
Unless we hid ourselves, unless we expressed ourselves mildly, we could not exist. I saw many of my brothers and sisters mercilessly being killed by the developer. He had a wicked smile, each time he pressed the run button and we could not raise our head.
"You ought to hide now, be dormant. After sometime, there is another test to pass. The tester as those people are called, are going to provoke you by all means. But you should understand the trap. They yell at you, praise you, poke you, smile at you...but do not, do not at any cost express yourselves." If you pass that test, you can travel to the land of expression -they call US.

There were testing times. When the soft developer cried in front of me , as she could not "fix" me. That's what they call the merciless killing in their world. I was about to sacrifice myself and come out of my hiding place but Mirage told me she wouldn't thank you for your sacrifice , but proclaim the murder and bag an MVP award. An award for a cruel murder? IT world is a real crazy world.

Mirage has got an interesting story too. He has remained dormant for the past three years. He should have real patience to suppress his real self, just for an existence? How could he do that?
After all, we are bugs. And we ought to show ourselves up at some time or other.
Mirage would break his self proclaimed prison at times, and he said Ralf did not mind it usually. By the way Ralf is the sweet little buganitarian, who just let us pass almost all times. Usually he closes the application and take a coffee break whenever Mirage wanted to express himself. But this time, I guess he fought with his wife in the morning. And he escalated the issue. And we had to travel back, from the land of freedom back to the offshore factory. And Mirage told me to hide myself in the corner and he was going to give up. He seemed too tired curbing himself for long.
And that's when the developer got his eye on him. The smile that developer had, shows accomplishment. He thinks he hunted Mirage out. But does he realize Mirage was giving up himself, not to help the developer, but he was too tired of his hiding place? Would the developer ever think of the favour knowingly or unknowingly Mirage gave him, when he hold the MVP award in his hand? Would he think of the poor souls he murdered just for an award?

I am feeling lonely here now. But I know this is not the end of the world. I heard the developer saying to his friend that he was tired of the job and was least applying his mind in code these days. I am waiting eagerly for my friends here and hoping, the developer doesn't find me out soon. Yes, I promise I will remain dormant, rather,I will forget my "self".

Cafe de' Kottayam

2007-07-23T20:27:00.000-07:00

Nostalgia is a nice word. Everyone treasures their set of memories of those lost days.
But here I am, with nostalgia of food! Of all the things from my childhood, I know one thing I would miss the most would be the delicious cuisine...Its not jsut about the taste, but the tiny little memories that hang along with them.
A list of all of them would be endless, but to start with a few of them...

Appam
Paallappam, Vellayappam, Kallappam - Call it by any name and be it of any shape, Appam still holds the first place when I talk about memories. Its not about the superior taste, but the prestige it holds . An Easter or Christmas without Appam would be like a sky without stars.
The prize for getting up early and being a good girl in church -soft fluffy Appam with beef or chicken curry. The women, after church talk not about lipstick or dog show, but what to do about the extra salt or sour taste in the Appam. The breakfast table would be busy always with Pappa sharing his nostalgic memories of Easter or Christmas during his childhood.

Idiyappam

The varieties of Appam is endless and considered most prestigious, but personally my favourite would be Idiyappam. Again soft fluffy noodles cake( Thats what we would reply when someone asked what we had for lunch, since we were supposed to speak only English in school :)) Idiyappam with egg roast -Mamma knows thats what I like the most. And thats what adorned the breakfast whenever I returned home from hostel after a long break. Countless idiayappams to counter the no-taste hostel food. Memories are still fresh.

Kappa and Fish curry.

Every time we have Kappa with fish curry, Pappa says, its the Portugese who brought Kappa and Puttu to Kerala. If I ever support that the invasion of India by foreign nations have benefited us, the first argument would be these delicious dishes that they have added to the average Malayalee dining table.
There are two ways to serve Kappa. You can either boil in simply (called thundan kappa) and serve with mashed onion and green chillies or you can cook it with grated coconut and other ingredients and serve with red hot fish curry. I loved them both ways.Kappa is considered the poor man's food and may be thats why kappa used to be the special food on ordinary Sundays, sundays when Mamma felt we need a special treat...And everytime the kappa was served Pappa would start singing
"Pande oru baalan
kappem meenum kondu
karthavinarukil poyathorkuno"
Its a parody of some church song, the original of which I don't know, but everytime I see hot kappa served, I can't resist humming this song, at least silently.

Puttu Kadala

As mentioned above, another reason to thank Portugese. The most common puttu kadala. Ok, this is not a special dish but what serves the right breakfast for Malayalee almost everyday. Whenever I talk about breakfast at home, the first thing to come to my mind would be puttu kadala. Something that I have had the most, still not bored of. Again, it used to be a shame to tke puttu kadala to lunch because there was nothing special about it, and if we did we called it steam cake! :)

Indiriyappam

Indiriyappam a.k.a pesaha appam holds a special place in my memories. Made only once in a year, on Maundy Thursday(Pesaha), I never liked it in my childhood. It was the sacred appam, to be cut after the prayer and distributed according to seniority. I always used to be last in line to get that, and always tried to hide , so that I dont have to take a big piece. But as of now, if someone gave me a whole of it too, I would gulp it down and ask for more. Pesaha appam reminds me of unity, a time when all members of the family and extended family get together. It is a chain that continues. All people living close by get together in each house one by one, and cut the pesaha appam.Those memories of moving from one house to the next in the night holds a special place in all the treasured memories. When men talked about politics and farming. Women talked about the pesaha appam. Old women remembered how Christ gave his life for us. And we children had lots of school stories and plans for the summer vacation ahead.

Kanji
Something, the taste of which I don't miss even now, but th memories of which I do. Those raining nights of the monsoons, when the rain gets heavier and heavier as we take each spoonful of kanji . Hot steaming kanji with payar, pappadam, pickle and thenga chammandi(coconut chutney). The joy of slurping down the kanji, trying to rhythm it with the cold rains outside. Those were the days!

I could talk and talk about many more of those mouth watering cuisines with mesmerizing memories, but I rather stop here and go on to cook the 2 minute Maggi noodles. Dinner menu reads Maggi noodles and Lays potato chips! :(

A friday evening.

2007-07-21T05:31:00.000-07:00

"Good night Madam" The cab driver wished me as I thanked him .
10:40 PM. Watchman fast asleep. I had a smile as I walked past him.
Lakshmi was already sleeping as I reached home. She did not have dinner today also. I wonder what happened to her, its been the same for a few days.
If it was the old me, I would break my head thinking what could be wrong. But , not me now.

I had planned to watch the late night movie, but didn't feel like switching on the TV when I saw her sleeping calmly.
As I picked up some snacks and the newspaper, the boys next door had started their daily guitar practice session.
I can hear them play longer notes now. They have advanced from the Do Re Mee.
Standing in the balcony, all I thought was , was this not my dream long long time back?
Be of myself, support myself, living in an apartment with the balcony facing the night moon.
But those dreams were much lovelier than the reality I was living now!
But still, there was a smile hovering...did I have such a nice day?

11:15 PM. Decided to sleep early and go for a morning walk. Reflecting back on the day, it had not been a bad one.
Less of on site issues, less of code issues, a sumptuous lunch at Chechi's mess, an Iced Eskimo, a nice chat session later in the evening, and a tour de Mysore through the deserted roads in the night cab. It had been a good day.
Yes, as expected she called.

1:00 AM. Am I feeling good like before? I wonder!

Hypocrisy, thy name Me!

2007-07-12T07:39:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I was thinking of relocating to my home town.
And I prepared my speech to be told in front of my DM.
Because I wanted to be at home and be with my family.

Surprisingly, my DM calls me today and asks my aspiration.
And I say:
“I am willing to relocate to any location if it offers me a challenging and satisfying work”

Is this what is called hypocrisy.
So now I am arguing with Rupa to find out, what is her real aspiration!

For a silent question...

2007-06-30T04:47:00.001-07:00

The rain drop touched the leaf and wished to hold on …
The leaf, lost in the embrace wished to stay in touch…
But the drop never asked if it could stay for a moment more..
And the leaf never asked the drop to stay back for a moment more..
And thus left the raindrop, to be lost in the earth waiting to hold her..
Leaving behind the lonely leaf waiting for the next drop that never came…

For a silent question that was never put to words…
For the question that was longed to be answered…but never heard..
The two souls parted, still wondering why..

A five rupee earned!

2007-06-30T04:46:00.001-07:00

This painting looked elegant and different from the rest of them.
It’s easy to describe it, just five strokes of different colors.
One vertical, one horizontal, two diagonal and one encircling all the above.
And it was called “The Fanatic Illusions of a Distressed Mind”. How symbolic!
And the price of 2400/- was quite reasonable for such a fabulous piece of modern art.

I grabbed hold of the painting and moved out of the exhibition hall. This would adorn my living room in style.
It would be a perfect match for the French windows, the Persian curtains and the Italian sofa set.

Oh! What a day for my car driver to take leave. Now, I have to travel by an auto!.
I hate to travel by the rickety auto rickshaws! This dress that I bought just last week for 3000/- , now I have to take extra care not to ruin this by the auto ride!
And the rude auto drivers ?..It takes lot of pain to deal with them!

How I wish I had not fought with my husband in the morning. Else, I could ask him to pick me up.
Hmm..that was indeed a heated debate. And I broke the flower vase that he had bought from Singapore. ..worth 2800 Indian Rupees!
How he is crazy for all designer items!
Why else do you think I bought this designer tie for him that cost me Rs 4750, to calm him down :): )
And if that is not enough, I have booked a table for two in Taj..hmm another 5000 bucks gone..

But after all, its salary day..and I think we have worked hard enough for all these tiny extra spending!

Ok..so here I am at my house.
Oh oh..so now I have to fight with the auto driver..It was just 5 minutes ride and he is charging me Rs.20 !!!!!
Does he think that money grows on trees for us????
A debate for 10 minutes and finally we settle for 15…hurray hurray. I have saved five rupees at the end of the day!!!
I am smiling!

And the painting laughed at the auto driver. Who was still thinking how to make the 250 rupees he was short of, to pay the auto rent.
And it was the last day of the month!

……………….

Time was ours, long time back!

2007-06-30T04:44:00.001-07:00

“A minute for yours, pal, could you give me
And a cup of coffee ,together with me”
That’s my friend ; time was ours, long time back!

Sorry pal, I am busy
Hope you understand,
An hour earned is a dollar hundred

“A minute of yours, my love, could you give me
And the sunset at the beach, together with me”
That’s my love; time was ours, long time back

Sorry honey, I am busy
Hope you understand,
An hour earned is a dollar hundred

“A minute of yours Dad, could you give me
And a flower, could you draw for me”
That’s my sweetie pie; time was ours, long time back

Sorry sweetheart, I am busy
Hope you understand,
An hour earned is a dollar hundred

“Minutes of yours, over my child
Come with me to the world of timelessness”
That’s the messenger of the dark, come for me
Time is not mine, anymore now

“Could I have a minute of mine?
To have a coffee with my friend so dear
The sunset at the beach with my love so near
And a flower, for my sweetie, could I draw?”
That’s me, time was all mine, long time back!

“Sorry my child, I am busy”
Hope you understand
An hour was lost, for every dollar you earned!”

And I understand,
An hour lost is a life time lost
But I was so late, and the hour was lost!

Men and women!

2007-06-30T04:42:00.000-07:00

He broke her heart, and told the world about it
The world called it great poetry
She broke his heart, and told the world about it
The world called it cruel treachery

And I know, the world is not of divine people
But mere earthly ‘men’ and ‘women’

Me and the Eagle

2007-06-30T04:41:00.000-07:00

Me:
If I had wings to fly, I would soar so high
I would touch the clouds and say, I am free!

Eagle:
If I had brains to code, I would build an auto prey application
I would outsource my hunting and say, I am free!

Who are you to me?

2007-06-30T04:40:00.001-07:00

Pity the world, that gave names to relations.
Names so shallow, to call bonds so deep
Pity me, that I call you the same
The same I would, for every second fellow

How nice it would have been
If relations were not confined by names
Deeper than friends, broader than lovers
You could be you, I could be me
And still be part of each others soul.

Chasing his dream

2007-06-27T09:11:00.000-07:00

"Amma...I want to have champakka*. Why don't we have chaampa** at home?
Today also, Sita, Arun and Mohan brought champakka...only we don't have chaampa at home."

His mother helped him with the school bag as he kept on complaining.

"Kanna...this is not our house na .You study well...get a good job and we will build our own house.
Then we will have lots of chaampas in our backyard"

That night, he dreamed of the big job he was going to get. And the mansion they would build, where every window opened to grab a chaampa by hand.
............................................................................
.............................................................................

It was summer again. The chaaampas bloomed again and the backyard looked pink with more and more chaampakka.
She collected all the champakka and wondered what to do with them.
And far far away, he waited impatiently in the one room apartment where every window opened to the busy street, for the home delivery of the double cheese crunch chicken pizza .

*chaampakka - Rose apple may be a translation for this delicious fruit!
** chaampa - The tree that bears chaampakka :)

Monsoons and Me...Part1

2007-06-20T08:14:00.000-07:00

It’s raining back in Kerala.
The monsoons…sadly they are not as enchanting as before.
All you hear is the wide variety of diseases spreading across all over the state and across the borders too !

Monsoons…those days of never ending rains…when you wake you up to the freshness of rain, live the entire day in her company and sleep cosily as she pampers you with the lullaby in the dark nights!

It was also on one of those monsoon days , I walked back to life from death.
May be the day I started believing that no problem is as big as the risk of losing your life.
Everyone who complaints about life and its problems should face a slight danger of life at least once!
Not that you become ever optimistic or ever positive. You would still curse life at times,you would still feel helpless,you would still feel lonely but ...many times it helps in acknowledging life better, ability to behold the beauty of little joys in life and also to convince oneself, its never time to quit till the last breath.

It was also on one of those monsoon days we lost Kochayan.
The only day in my life when I saw the helpless face of Papa.
The day and the scene has been deep rooted in my memories.
And the memory that gives me the strength to go on…the flexibility to sacrifice…the love to overcome my personal losses for my family…or for anyone who is close to your heart.

It was also on one of those monsoon days I realized my family was all ready to be broken into many branches from the main river.
Those days when I realized however hard we try, we have to give up what ever we are attached to ..at one point of time.
But it has also given me the courage to uphold that my emotions are not dampened by distance but it would be everlasting…

Memories…endless and countless…most of them too precious to be shared
Another monsoon…another year to look forward.
Yes I do miss the monsoons back home…and I love them even more as I miss them!
The monsoons that have formed an integral part of life…and those monsoons which will never be the same …
As she loses her youth, let me treasure her magical mystical beauty in my childhood memories…deep and safe.

Boards dont hit back. Or do they?

2007-06-19T07:26:00.000-07:00

"Boards don’t hit back” That’s Bruce Lee with a straight face.
I was watching Enter the Dragon for the 14th time now.
If given a choice, I would prefer to drench my hanky in tears watching some emotional drama.
But here I was…watching Bruce Lee…Why? Because Bob liked it.

That was the first time I tried liking everything that Bob liked.
There was a sudden urge to let him know I shared his interests…I could easily match with his frequency…
Often he told me “Jane..I get a feeling you are trying to like these things..and not really like them.Why do you have to do that Jane?”
All I would do then is to look deep into his eyes and he would change the topic without another word.

He said Waqar had a unique style. Yes I agreed. Waqar Younis was indeed very handsome.
And I started jumping in joy even when he clean bowled Tendulkar.
But later he told me he mentioned about the style of his reverse swing. I nodded dumbly.

Today, we were at the cafe and I was surprised when he ordered cold coffee.
The order was quite monotonous every time we went to cafe...hot coffee for him and cold coffee for me.
He often asked me how I could call something cold as coffee. Coffee had to be steaming hot...else don't drink it.That was his policy.
And I used to tell him...there is nothing like the sweetness of cold coffee...this was something which I could not compromise for his likes.

May be he was trying to like my likes? I felt a sudden jerk in me.
Bob saw me looking at him in surprise. He smiled.
"Jane...you don't need to stare at me like this! You know Richa?She loves cold coffee...So...I was...you know ...just trying..."
Was he blushing.!
Our orders arrived.
Cold coffee tasted very bitter today.
Sometimes boards do hit back!

All I need is a look...or a word?

2007-06-19T07:25:00.000-07:00

“Sir, I am Preethy calling from ICICI bank. Can I talk to you for five minutes?”
This was not the first time Preethy was calling me. This was not the first time I was telling her I was not interested in her credit card. Why don’t some people just understand!
“Miss Preethy, will you, for God’s sake, shut up and get lost!!!"

Well..there could not be anything more to add to the bad day I am having. Sending the wrong documents to the wrong people, my boss overhearing when I was cribbing about him to my teammate, executing the wrong query and crashing the database...and my boss saying "Well Amit, you need to scale up your managerial skills".
Well I had enough already. And now to top with the repeated request for the credit card I never asked for nor am I interested in!

As I got into the bus, I was thinking what could make the day better for me...simply something which could wipe away the sour feeling of a bad day.
There she was...at the first row seat as usual.
There was something about her spring curls.And her honey colored skin..that was a perfect touch of natural beauty.
It was indeed a blessing , watch her enjoy every minute of her ride in her own way. Smile at the kids playing in the rain...help the old lady with her bag...smile at some thought unexpectedly.
Its awesome that such beauty comes with such a kind heart too..If only I could talk to her for a minute.If only I could simply ask her name...

/******************************************************************************************************************************/

"Boss, I got the same list yesterday also. And I contacted each one of them.And they are not interested in our credit card.".
"Look Preethy...its about perseverance and convincing your prospects and making them into customers. If we were to contact only the real needed ones, I needn't employ people like you over here. Do you understand that?"

Well...there couldn't be anything more to add to the bad day I am having. It was not the first time I was calling this Amit .And it was not the first time he was bashing me for disturbing him.
I know he doesn't need the credit card...but what could I do if boss adds his number to my list of prospects every other day!

As I got into the bus, I was thinking what could make the day better for me...simply something which could wipe away the sour feeling of a bad day.
There he was...at the second last seat as usual.
There was something about his innocent smile.In these days of only cunning ones.
It was indeed a blessing , watch him enjoy every minute of his ride in his own way. Smile at the kids playing in the rain...help the old man with the seat...smile at some thought unexpectedly.
Its awesome that such high profiles comes with such a kind heart too...If only I had his number in my list of callers...I wouldn't be having a bad day like this everyday!

..............................................................................................
Amit still receives Preethy's calls and he bashes her.
And wishes if he could talk to her in the bus, in the evening.
Preethy curses Amit after every call.
And wishes every evening if Amit could be in her prospects list the next day .

Life goes on

2007-06-19T07:24:00.000-07:00

‘Sir, another body found…the total count is 21 now’ the inspector informed him.

This time it was a young woman. Aged about 20 years. Yellow shirt and brown skirt. Is that all you could say about the girl?

It may not say that she lived a life full of dreams. Not that she must have been on the way to fulfill them.

That she never imagined a small fault in the boat would bring an end to her life and drown her dreams in the depths of the lake.

Her photo also went to the board that displayed the unidentified bodies, while her parents moved madly among the other bodies laid on the other corridor of the hospital.

He had had enough for the day. 15 bodies had already gone through his hands.

And this girl reminded him of Janaki who was coming home after two years.
He had promised to be there at the railway station to pick her .As always he knew she would understand her dad and his job.
It was always so with her. He couldn't be there on her first day in school. It was then, that the angry mob had destroyed the church in the town.
On the annual day in her final year in school, he was so proud that he could see her recieve the best student award, but then the minister suddenly changed plans of his visit to the town and he had to accompany the security.
Neither could he be there to see her off when she went to university far from home. She was scared, she was nervous.
All he could do was kiss her forehead while she was sleeping on the night before, and leave early morning for the special duty at the site of communal violence.

Even then, whenever her mother complained furiously of daddy not being home when needed, she tried to pacify her and justify him.

"Sir..22 now"...said a voice from his back.

As he looked at the swollen face of another young girl, he sighed .
At least Janaki was alive. She was there somewhere near by.Still living her dreams. Still hoping for a day when she can spend the entire day with her dad sharing stories from college.

But what could he tell those parents still searcing for their dear daughter in the pile of bodies...

Things to live with-1!

2007-06-04T01:15:00.000-07:00

Regrets...may be the second last thing you would want to live with. First of course would be corrupted conscience? I think it would be really hard to live a peacuful life with your conscience troubling you for your past. May be we need to talk about that in a entire new discussion but, for now...its about regrets. By regrets...it means different.

Regrets...feeling sorry for the decisions that you took for yourself...feeling sorry for the things that you didn't do ,which you fondly cherished to do, feeling sorry for going away from people who you wanted to hold on for the entire life of yours...
It is really hard to live with them. The thought that you have lost them all...those moments that could be yours...those feelings those emotions those dreams that could be yours...those people that could be yours...but no more!

Sometimes, it is important that you take a step away from your own life and watch the entire life of yours as the audience. just like a movie, when all the scenes pass by, you would wonder, how stupid or foolish is the hero of he story. How important it was for him/her to act differently and how easily he /she gave up. Gave up? Some people call it losing the battle, some people call it a great sacrifice and some people call it fate. Whatever, the bottom line is ...you have lost it all.

And if you thought, this realization would drive your life better, you could be absolutely wrong. You would continue to make those regretful decisions, you would still continue to ignore people when they are with you , you would continue to hold on to the self without letting it lose, you would continue to prevent yourself from doing things that you really want to do and ...then one fine day again ask yourself helplessly and regretfully "What have I been doing".

Its not easy to live it ...but still it seems to be the way of life.!

Loneliness or solitue-part2

2007-05-06T20:51:00.001-07:00

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
-Henry Longfellow
Who ever said “The greatest loneliness is not to be comfortable with you self “may be wrong!
Sometimes, the greatest loneliness is to be so comfortable with yourself that you shut the door to the world beyond you.

It hurts to know that you no more get hurt in any relationship!
It pains to know that you don’t feel the pain anymore in missing people.
Like the ship in the ocean… not searching for the light...
Not stop for the passing by ships…but just signal the presence...
Loneliness or solitude, call it by any name,
But for the hollowness that stays on....

Trial

2007-05-05T03:35:00.001-07:00

ഇഹപരലോകമൊന്നിലുമൊടുങ്ങുകിലീ മോഹങ്ങളൊക്കെയും

ജനന മരണ ഖണ്ഡങ്ങള്ക്കിടയിലായീ ഉഴലുമീ നടനമത്രയും

ചേരുവാനാകാത്തൊരു കരയും തേടി അലയുമീ യാത്രയില്

നേടിയതൊകെയും നഷ്ട്മാക്കുന്നു ഈ മൂഢഡനും

My Banyan tree

2007-05-05T03:33:00.001-07:00

The banyan tree has grown old.
It was the same tree that I grew up with.
The same tree that I spent the many beautiful moments in my life.
For every wind, I would rush to stand under the tree
And relish the music of the leaves,
And wish for more winds to pass by
For every rain, I would rush to stand under the tree
And relish the shower of drops
And wish for more rains to come
I shared my joys here
I shared my burdens here
It was tall, it was strong
But as I grew up and I realize now
The banyan tree has grown old.
No more can it stand the wind or the rain
And I pray every moment, shall there be no more winds and no more rain
For I love my banyan tree
And I can’t stand the tree falling down.

To say I love..

2007-05-05T03:32:00.001-07:00

Hi Steve,

Finally all hurdles are over and I got my visa. I have packed my bags and I feel so excited..I am ...

"Kanna...did you keep the tickets and passport in that pouch?"

That was Appa. He had been running around all week to make preparations for my travel.
He bent a little as he walked.He was getting old.

As a wind blown from no where, did a veil of gloom cover my mind now? I did not feel excited anymore.
I looked into his eyes...and they were talking with mine.

"Appa...do I really want to go? "
"Kanna...this is what you dreamed all your life , right?"
"Couldn't you ask for once Appa... , for me to stay back? Isn't that what you wish? Don't you need me in your weak days?"
"And you would listen? Kanna...we are the past. The life is yours and the time. Go make your life! Appa and Amma should never be the obstacles to achieve your dreams, your life "

Appa silently moved out of the room.

I felt insecure for no reason.

It was a rainy day, and we played football longer than usual in the rain and I missed the school bus.
I felt scared and helpless. I looked around and waited eagerly in the school veranda,waiting for someone who never told would turn up...but my mind waited for him.
And then there was Appa on his bicycle. I thought he would scold me. But he just patted my back and put me on the bicycle and held my hand tight. I was not scared anymore.
I wished I could hold his hand tight now and push away the fear.

How easy it was to tell Jennifer that I loved her. How easy it was to gift her on a million occasions and tell her sorry a hundred times for no reasons.
How patiently I would wait outside her hostel for hours and accept all her demands.
And I know her for just over a year now?
But...but did I not love Appa more than her? Did I not know him for my entire life? And I was struggling here to tell him that I love him. To let him know how much he means to me!
We never talked freely. We never expressed our hearts out. But he told me he loved me with his life. But me?What was holding me back?

I sat down to complete the email.

"But Steve...I think I am not coming. I need to be here."

I had to tell Appa that I loved him.

The wind had blown past and it took away the veil too.

..........

.....

Some lives

2007-05-05T03:30:00.000-07:00

"Faster Appaachu faster..."
Vinod's rickshaw was well ahead of us. And it was rode by Raman, much younger and stronger than Appachu.
But still we believed Appachu could do the impossible. Appachu could do anything. Absolutely anything!
Stop at the sweetshop and buy us rasagulas that our parents denied us.
Stop at the abandoned pond where it was believed lived the giant alligators, and get us the lotus flowers...
Tell us why nobody went into the big mansion across the paddy fields. (Yes, there existed the bad spirit of the dead man)
Tell us why there was a rainbow after the showers.
He knew more than our Science teacher, he knew more than our Maths teacher.

“Apaachu, what happens to the moon day by day, where does it go?” that’s Johny, with whom I always fought for the side seat.
“ There is a big fox in the sky…, and he tries to eat the rabbit in the moon…and…” Appachu would start the explanation.

Janaki always carried her precious treasure with her. A jar refilled with live dragon flies every day.
The dragon flies would flutter their wings and Janaki loved watching them trying to escape.
We always felt pity for the captivated innocent flies but it was no use fighting with Janaki.

Boby did not like Appachu because he would seize away the bubble gums that Boby had secretly obtained.
Bubble gums were a strict no in school and at home. Appachu thought bubble gums caused cancer. We did not know what cancer is, but we hated it cause, that took away our bubble gums. Boby always said, he hadn’t heard of anyone having cancer and it was a myth.

We graduated from cycle rickshaw to school buses, our own cycles, bikes and later …cars.
Johny now works in ISRO. May be he still wonders where the moon disappears every fortnight and he tries to find an answer with the fox and rabbit story.
Boby went on to become a doctor, specializing to treat cancer patients. I don’t know if he allows his patients to have bubble gums.
And Janaki, she called me last month. She wanted me to contribute something for Blue Cross. She was one of the volunteers of the animal welfare organization.

And Appachu? He must be still riding the rickshaw some where down the lane, giving some other children, the way to their lives.

Some lives...remain as stale as ever...and some lives....as complete as ever.

Loneliness...or solitude?

2007-04-28T03:46:00.000-07:00

The worst form of loneliness may be to feel alone in a group.
You know you are surrounded by people, people of all groups, all ages, all cultures .
But...there is no one for you, no one you can identify yourself with.

There are days solitude you enjoy being in your own company...
Treat yourself with a the best dishes,long bath, pamper yourself in front of the mirror and lay on the empty hall floor dreaming of an imaginative someone or may be yourself ...

And there are days of killing loneliness, you lay awake at the darkest hours of the night, browsing through the address book and realize there is no one to call ...
Your cell phone is as dead as ever, the darkness and the silence of the night does not frighten you but remind you how alone you are on the earth.

Take home!

2007-03-16T10:26:00.000-07:00

The wedding ceremony was over and the bride was about to leave the house.
She was still looking goreous in her wedding attire.
The wedding was grant, 1500 people attended it.
The bride was taking with her 10 suitcases, all filled with clothes and jewellery.
She was also taking the brand new car to the grooms house, which was to be hers , from then on.
She was also taking with her a bank balance of 10 lakhs.
There was only one thing, that she was asked to leave back at her home.
Thats her individuality.
She was no more her, but was supposed to be a wife, a daghter in law, a sister in law, then later a mother, a grandmother...she had all roles to play...but none of her own self!

Living today

2006-11-18T01:09:00.000-08:00

Its about living each day..with memories of the past..and hopes of the future..
What would make a day awesome for you may be the same that make the day awful for me..
Neverthless its about starting a day with the thought "Thank God I am still alive"...calling it a day..a day lived to the fullest...and going to sleep with the thought "Thank God for the life you gave today..." with the hope of waking up the next day...