Stepping Stones..to the land of nothing!

Turning 30

2008-08-22T13:31:00.001+05:30

“So? You’ve turned 30?”
“Huh! What’s so special about turning 30? I’ve turned all years from 1- 29, then why do they keep on harping about this 30 alone?”
Turning 30 seems to be a devastating blow for the youngsters. Why is this soul searching only at 30 and not earlier or later?!!
Some years back, I posted a blog on this same topic (Ref: http://shpriya1.blogspot.com/2005/11/turning-30.html) , when my nephew turned 30 and was contemplative about it.
And believe it or not, to my surprise, I find that this keyword “turning 30” became a standard search word in my blog site’s Google analytics
Why do guys get stuck to this “Age 30” syndrome? Why not at 20, 40 or even 50? The truth is we do contemplate on our every birth year, but 30 seem to be a crucial number because others say so!
Age 30 sends a wave of panic among the youngsters, and a feeling of dread.
They think that 30 is a milestone, and one should have accomplished what he had aimed for, and he should have achieved his goal by then.
What have I done till now? What did I want to do? Is everything over? Have I settled down in my life? College, career, marriage - What else have I left to do?
These are the questions running in their mind.
The underlying tension and expectation to have them all figured out by the age of 30 surfaces during this cross –over.
Life is not a neat and complete package. We do not know what is in store. Perhaps the past generations were a luckier lot, because by the time they reached the age of 30, they had almost fulfilled, achieved what they wanted in life. Lucrative job, and a wonderful family with kids, and they kept on going.
Though the latter generations have still a long way to go, the choices, options and opportunities being offered to them are complex, yet lucrative.
They can afford to change track at 30, switch and jump over their aims and goals, and strive to the top.
So what if people say you are old? We become older every second, every month, and every year. First accept that you are old and you are 30.
30 years was an age when the older generation was married and had two kids. But now guys think of marrying only after the age of 30.So now people come to you again with the standard question, “Aren’t you married yet?”
So many curious faces and anxious queries, too many personal questions are all to be faced.
However, we can say that the 20s period is a training ground where the youth have to strive to materialize their fantasies through trial and error. And 30 is the right age when one starts to make these fantasies into reality.
There are varying views that while some view 30 as a mere number, we may also consider it as a significant birthday where we can do a lot of soul-searching and self analysis, where flirtation, fun and life’s entertainment take a back seat, and the value of life, friends, relationship and other important aspects in life comes to the forefront because at this age you have earned the right to be yourself by now!Does this "turning 30" syndrome applicable to women also? I dont think so because women have a tendency to take it all in their stride.

Rapture of the Deep...

2008-06-10T16:35:00.001+05:30

I was a diver then.
I wasn’t diving underwater, but under the waves of blood and body fluids. It gave me a glorious feeling to be relaxing out there, doing upside down and round about tricks. Where else, but my mom’s womb?
Mom, it was fantastic. You gave me a warm and cozy place to stay and enjoy.
I was all excited and I was waiting to come out into this world and have a look at you and dad who gave me the most precious gift – life.
But wait…am I hearing something?
It was you talking to my dad.
Mom: But you said you will marry me!
Dad: Yeah, but I’m helpless. My parents want me to marry another girl. The date is fixed. I’m sorry!
Argument, discussions, mom crying, hurling abuses at each other, went on for sometime.
I was shell shocked.
“Please don’t go, dad! Don’t leave mom and me! I wanna see you!”
I cried my heart out. But my dad doesn’t seem to hear me.
Mom: But I am bearing your child!
Dad: How do I know its mine?
I heard his retreating footsteps. He left forever..
“Mom, don’t cry. I am here for you. Just wait for a few months and I will stay close to your heart!”
My screams fell on deaf ears.
She started cursing me.
“To hell with you! To hell with you!” She screamed hysterically. She thumped on her tummy and gave me pain
“Mom, I love you! Don’t do this to me! I love you, mom!”
A few days pass by.
I started hearing voices again.
Mom: I want to abort this baby!
I could hear my mom talking to someone..
“It’s too late, dear. Nothing can be done at this stage. “
Thank you, dear doc, for saving my life!
Otherwise, I wouldn’t be writing my diary now.
Mom, you brought me into this world but threw me in the dust bin.
But I still love you, mom.
“Darling, come and eat your breakfast!”
My special mom is calling me…
She adopted me and gave me the blanket of love, tis a beautiful world, no doubt,
But mom, you gave me life, and shelter inside you,And the rapture of the deep remains....

Heart n Soul - short story

2008-03-15T17:26:00.001+05:30

Bus driver says :
Yesterday was a bad day for me. I had stopped the bus for a few moments at the bus stop near a school.
I am always a bit extra careful when nearing school zones because the children tend to be playful and at the same time, wrong or right, we, are blamed for any road mishap. But yesterday, perhaps, I lost my concentration a little.
A ten year old child got down from the bus and walked in front of the bus in order to cross the road. I started the bus and brushed the child a little, not knowing that the child would not have walked past. The boy lost his balance but managed to get up fast. He ran towards his school fearing that commotion would prevail if he remains behind. The passengers in the bus mumbled that I was careless. Ignoring their remarks, I moved ahead.
This incident stuck to my head the whole day, and the sulky mood continued even as I walked towards home in the evening. I felt that a drink or two would calm down my nerves.
Wife says:
He was drunk! When wasn’t he? Perhaps when he is on duty, he is a bit sane. But otherwise I have only heard him give a long, slurring speech when he reaches home. He even turns violent sometimes, when he is in a sulking mood; he would even throw the plate of food in anger. His anger tantrums are worse when he takes the plate and hits me on my face. Till today, I escaped unhurt. But who can prevent fate?
I could sense his violent mood today in the manner in which he threw his chappals out and came inside. His curses and abuses cross limits when he is drunk and that was what he was doing even today.
I noticed him giving money to my son to go to the liquor shop and buy him drinks. Which mother would tolerate a father corrupting his own son? I told my son not to go and also admonished the father for asking his own son to buy these drinks for him. This man! Would he ever learn? I took back the money from my son.
There was an eerie silence for a moment, like a lull before a storm. He then squatted on the floor without uttering even a word. I placed a plate and a glass of water in front of him. Then I took the hot food from the stove and served him. He looked down at the food and with a swift movement of his hand, lifted the stainless steel plate and hit me on the forehead.
I screamed in pain and within seconds, blood was flowing from my forehead. My son, had left for the shop long back, even before his father sat down to eat food. I tied a towel around my head, cleaned the floor, and sat in a corner. I don’t know when I fell asleep. When I woke up, I could still feel the pain, and blood was oozing. I felt giddy and confused.
Son says:
My father is a horrible man. I dread him at times, and sometimes I even feel like murdering him and go to jail. It is all because I have never seen my mother happy anytime. My dream is to work hard, become rich, and keep her happy.
Yesterday, this man, my father, came home fully drunk and wanted me to go to the liquor shop and buy drinks again. I looked at my mom helplessly. She snatched the money from me and asked me not to go. But I knew that she was the one who will have to bear his anger tantrums. I did not heed her. I took the money and ran to the shop. Once this man drinks, he will be in his own world and not disturb my mom.
I came back with the drinks. My father was mumbling and told me that he desired to hit my mom in front of the bus just like he did that day and wished that she died. It was his usual ramblings, but it was worse that day. Perhaps something happened when he was on duty.
I saw my mom lying in one corner with a towel around her head. She must be having a headache, poor thing! I thought, only to realize that she has been bleeding the whole night and was unconscious. By the time I got up, father left for duty. I called my neighbour for help and he immediately called an ambulance.
Ambulance driver says :

It was the first call in the morning and I had to rush to the spot even without having my cup of coffee. I noticed that the woman’s condition was serious. The doctor who came with me tested her and gave her the first aid. But her condition was so serious that her chances of survival were less.
Her son was full of tears and kept on ranting that it was his entire fault that he did not realize about her condition earlier. I calmed him down, brought her in a stretcher, asked him to get in and closed the rear door. The rear door did not close properly. I slammed the door again. I had no time to waste. She is a mother of a child and she needs to be saved. Who knows? God might be kind to her and save her life.
Damn these drunkards, I said to myself and took off in a good speed. I turned on the siren and my aim and concentration was to alert the traffic to show signs of humanity and consideration to the injured lady and give way to my vehicle. The traffic was very heavy and there was no space for my vehicle to move on fast. If at all there was a little space, some other vehicle raced past and occupied the space.
Now what am I to do? We were almost nearing the hospital. . I could ask them to move her to the hospital manually. Even while I was thinking what to do next, a bus raced past and stopped in front of my vehicle. These bus drivers love to bully the relatively smaller vehicles, don’t they?
Son says:
While I am sitting and watching my mom breathing fast, I was praying to God to save her life. Let God take my life and give back her life. My father must have hit her when I had gone to the shop. Why did I not look at her then? Oh God, please do not leave me with this guilt of a lifetime. I keep on raving and ranting to myself and praying.
The ambulance driver is doing his best to move her to the hospital. But the traffic is heavy and the siren is not as effective as it should be. People seem to be in a hurry to reach their destination. Who is worried about someone else’s life, when he or she is not that close? The ambulance driver slams the brake.
There is a bus in front of the vehicle. When will the ambulance move? My heart is pounding and I am getting restless. I have to contact my father as soon as I get her admitted. Will he be sane enough to respond, he knew not.
It looks as if it is taking a long time to reach the hospital. There are lot of two –wheelers and cars, each one clinging to his vehicle and life, and at the same time, each one wants to prove their own strength. Is it all a matter of chance?
Bus driver says:

When I started from home, I called my wife in order to wake her up. She was fast asleep. Or was she angry? I had taken an extra dose of drink yesterday and I vaguely remember asking my son to get drinks. But what happened next?
I have a terrible headache. Got to get down somewhere for a cup of coffee and take a crocin. I feel sorry for my wife. She is the most tolerant woman on earth. Today I should go home early, take her out, and please her.
But first, I am badly in need of a cup of coffee. I decided to speed up. There were only a few passengers and my aim is to reach my destination as quick as possible. There is an ambulance in front of me. I look at the ambulance. I was not that curious to know if someone was there inside, dying. Today my first priority is to cure my headache. I cannot show consideration to some human whom I do not know, especially when I am having a problem.
I race past the ambulance and rush past the traffic and reach my destination. I rush towards the coffee shop. I am aware that I have been speeding up today. A sort of restlessness and guilt has crept into me. Did I beat my wife? Did I abuse her? What did I do to her to make her so angry? She did not even reply to me today. Not even the usual one word reply?
I am suddenly reminded of my cell phone which I have turned on to silent mode. I notice that there are many missed calls from my son.
I call up…
Now I am rushing to the hospital….God! Please save her. I won’t drink any more.
Will my prayers be answered?

When romance blossoms..

2008-02-17T13:17:00.001+05:30

I knew this would change everything but as I stood there transfixed, I felt helpless……
Changes are good and sometimes changes are bad. But God, I wish changes really wouldn’t come as a surprise to us, yet somehow they still do!
Well, why do these changes come and go? We are unable to accept and face negative changes but when they came in a positive way in my life, I was thrilled!
It was the time when I met my wife, my love.
It was a day of charm. Fate landed in my doorstep with what I needed most at that moment.
The feeling of love.
The doorbell rang She was my next door neighbor. I was rather surprised seeing a beautiful girl, holding a pot of rose plant with beautiful red roses, in her hands.
“Happy birthday!” She said smiling.
“Who said it’s my birthday?” I asked her in a serious tone.
“Your mom...” Her smile faded slowly and it looked as though she was frowning at me for not thankful for her birthday gift.
“Oh yeah, thanks...” I suddenly remembered to thank her and grinned, in order to make her feel easy.
I have never received flowers from anybody so far, and neither have I received any plants as gift.
Should I have reacted and said, “Oh, what lovely roses!” ? I felt sorry for missing a good opportunity to get to know her more.
I placed the pot in the balcony and went back to continue what I was doing. After she left, I continued watching TV.
Watching TV and munching snacks. These were the most enjoyable tasks I was never tired of doing. To say more of it, this irritated my father the most. Now back to my neighbour, she had a reason for gifting me the rose plant.
I had been watching her roses grow in her balcony. As I was climbing down the stairs one day, I met her. I complimented on the beautiful roses in their balcony, nodded and buzzed off. But her smiling face stuck to my mind and heart. I longed for another opportunity to talk to her.
While more roses blossomed in the plant, we became friends to the point of discussing about my job and career.
“Why not start a garden nursery? You said your father has an acre of land somewhere? You love roses. Bouquet shops have a good demand for it.” She was right.
Her idea seemed okay.
I felt happy because these were changes in my life now which were bringing more positive vibration. This, I was sure, would ward off the negative energy which my father was instilling in me till now.
My father came in and silently switched off the TV.
I stared at him.
“What are you staring at me for?”
“Go out and search for a job instead of watching TV all the time!:
I threw the plate angrily on the table and went to my room.
I switched on the computer.
Does he think getting a job is as easy as buying a vegetable? “Man, you try and you will know what I am undergoing!”
My PC took a long time to boot. I became restless and walked towards the mirror.
I combed my already combed hair. Would she ever love a ruffian?
“Ruffian!” My dad’s favorite taunting word!.
“Go have a haircut and shave!”
Doesn’t he get tired at all telling it to me again and again whenever he looks at me?
My dad thinks that jobs will be handed over in a golden platter during campus placements to all and sundry whoever passed out of college.
Now back to the pot of roses.
I proved myself and set the rose garden. Hundreds of roses started blooming wildly.
My father felt that I am “doing” something better than watching TV, munching snacks and putting on weight! And I married my sweetheart. Chnages are inevitable, and sometimes they shock us and even jolt us from our seaters.
I had just stepped into my garden nursery that day. It took me a few seconds to realize what was happening there. They were breaking the pots, destroying the rose bushes, stamping the roses – whatever harm they could do to my pets – the rose plants. This was not the right time for me to lose control of my emotions. I held back my tears.
I hated the sight of my favorite plants destroyed and ripped out! Beautiful roses strewn around – They were of such beautiful colors which would make anyone say, "Well, that’s just lovely…"
“I am a top Government official. Don’t you dare cross roads with me! We need your place for a shopping complex! Vacate the place in a month’s time or you are done!”
My rebellious attitude came to the forefront. Why should I listen to him?
However I did try to get another place for my plants. My plants were delicate darlings. They just can’t be moved as and when or how I liked. I was searching for a nice place suitable for these potted plants.
“Nooooo! Please leave them alone! I will vacate soon! I promise!” I screamed at them and begged the men to stop breaking the stems of those lovely plants.
They left.
I stood there for five minutes looking at them sadly.
My roses know how much close I was to them. It was hard work and toil all the year round. Trimming them like a meditation every single day, watering them and giving them their share of sunlight…
And now, this is a change I never expected in my life. Along with it, God knows what more I should expect! It is probably the comfort zone which makes us resist changes. I hope for revival soon.
“This too shall pass!”

The Horizon - short story

2008-02-17T13:13:00.001+05:30

“Lalitha is back in town...”
Mohan’s mother turned back and looked at him as if she was expecting his reaction to what she said, while her hand was stirring the content in the earthen pot, with a ladle and waiting for it to overflow a bit, as was the custom. It was Pongal festival.
Mohan was back in his native place for Pongal holidays. The entire town was in jubilant and festive mood. The whole town gathered together in the temple to celebrate the festival.
As soon as his mother uttered these words, he raised his head with a quizzical and curious look...
Lalitha was his childhood playmate. They have been eating and playing together. Now what was his mother going to tell him?
But then they parted ways when Lalitha’s parents decided to send her to Chennai to work as a helper to one of their rich relatives. Lalitha was hardly fifteen when she left the town.
So much had happened in his life and he used to remember her now and then. After all, she had been his beloved companion during his childhood days.
“Her husband ran away and she is back home. She has a one year old son now...” He came back to the real world when his mother continued to talk about Lalitha.
Mohan did not reply. His mother felt that a few more words from her mouth about Laitha would only spoil the festive mood, and stopped the conversation.
The festival was over and everyone returned back home.
It was almost dark when Mohan walked towards the river bank, to enjoy the stillness there. The beauty of the twilight horizon in crimson almost made him lose his senses.
His mind wandered to a few years back when he proposed to Lalitha. Subconsciously, he has been cherishing those moments and memories. Memories are like buds which bloom at the right time but they may also hiss like snakes and come out when not needed.
“Will you marry me?” His memories went back to those unpleasant moments of his life.
Her eyes were full of tears then.
“My mother is sending me to Chennai. I am leaving in a few days. God knows when we will meet again...”
Relationship is something both have to work on. She was not exactly his dream girl, but his instinct told him that he would have a blissful married life if he marries her.
That was the last he had heard of her. At that time, he felt that he would forget her in course of time and come to terms with the fact that she won’t come back.
It had been a constant struggle for Lalitha these last few years, to escape from all those unwanted happenings. There never seemed an end to her struggles.
Her mother sent her to work, because she thought that being the third daughter, it was not time for her to get married and she could as well earn for the family and keep the family going. But her hopes were shattered when Lalitha was sent back home on pretext that she stole a silver tumbler. Lalitha’s parents then got her married to a Rangan, fifteen years older than her. But to her utter disappointment, she was treated with contempt because of his complex that she was much younger to him and also because she was astonishingly beautiful.
And now she was back with a one year old child. Her husband left her for another woman. How did he have the heart to leave her? A ravishing beauty combined with intelligence. A tinge of sadness masked her beautiful face. How much he desired to unmask her face and make her look bright and cheerful.
He sat down there, engrossed in thoughts. Then, with dejection spread all over him, he started picking up the pebbles and threw them one by one into the water. All he could hear was the splashing sound of the pebbles. Then he turned around to watch the scenes spread around him. Suddenly he felt his hairs rising when he saw a woman approaching him. Was it Lalitha? The cotton saree and the well shaped figure, her beautiful face made him think it was Lalitha. As the figure walked past him, realization dawned on him that it was just an illusion.
There was turmoil raging inside him. Why not ask her to get a divorce and marry him? She must have killed her natural feelings and desires by now. Why not rekindle them and make her happy? He also felt that his mother would definitely not object to him marrying the woman he loved. This was the right hour to support her and offer her companionship when she badly needed it.
He got up with a clear mind, with a decision to talk to his parents and then ask her to marry him.
The sun was disappearing slowly and darkness silently crept in. He walked home thinking of Lalitha. For him, at that moment, the world ceased to be

How much of money is enough?

2007-12-19T14:20:00.000+05:30

No one would be able to answer this question.
A rich man wants to become richer. A money junkie is always after money. He is never satisfied. Money is all that matters for him. For him, even though it is just money added to his wallet, he is addicted to money. He wants more and more of it.
But for a poor man, money is a necessity with which he has to buy even the basic necessities.
So how do we measure money?
When we compare money with our aims and ambitions, does money score a goal?
When striking a balance between importance of money, and our ambitions, our ambitions scores over money. Money is merely a tool which can be used to become successful in our aims and ambitions.
We all think that we know ourselves well, but when it comes to money, have we ever analysed ourselves?
Studies say that the mere presence of money changes human behavior. He may change for the better perhaps. He would become self-reliant and not depend on others for help. However, when we think of the worst, when he is exposed to money, he might become immune and treat the currency notes merely as pieces of papers.
When we find a 100 Re note on the road, a rich man will not mind leaving it there itself. He walks along, pretending not to notice it. A poor man will not ignore it. He will first look here and there to find the rightful owner. If he does not find one, he puts it into his wallet and walks off. What if it is a windfall? Rich or poor, a windfall is a windfall. Money makes us crazy and clouds our sane judgments.
Deepavali is a time when poojas are offered to Goddess Lakshmi, Goddess of wealth.
Money is a good resource useful for social exchanges and for making the country stable. So it should not get stored up with an individual alone. Let us get used to money and concentrate on aims and ambitions and make new goals!

The orphaned parents...

2007-10-28T18:35:00.000+05:30

Rangan had a sleepless night and woke up early that morning. Not wanting to disturb his wife, he made his own cup of coffee, dressed up for a morning walk, tiptoed slowly towards the door and locked the door behind him.
He was now all set for the early morning walk along the Marina beach in Chennai. His other old friends would join him soon. They were a group of five old men in their early seventies.
The beautiful pavement, filled with walkers, and the green meadows around, refreshed him and gave him vigour and health for the day. However the best part of this walking routine was the meeting of these men in the beautiful meadow. An early morning gossip and light talks made him relax and ease out his personal stress.
That day, it was a discussion about his son and daughter-in-law.
Rangan was 35 when he got married to Geetha. Now his son Gautham who was of the same age was married to Ramya. They had a cute, little daughter. Ramya was an executive in a private company.
Now, back to Rangan.
His other friends were looking at him pitifully.
“Rangan, what has happened to you today? You don’t look as bright and cheerful as you used to be? Had a fight at home?” One of his friends asked, winking at him.
Rangan nodded his head.
“No...”
“Then what happened?”
“My son...”
“What happened to your son?”
“Nothing…. My daughter-in-law Is getting transferred to Kanpur. Gautham says he can’t take us along with him. He wants us to go to an Old Age Home...But I told him I can manage on my own. I have my deposits and savings. That will do for us both...”
“Yes. That was right. Then why should he leave you at a Home?”
“Well, they want to sell this house and buy a flat in Kanpur. They want to stabilize their assets. My daughter-in-law’s parents reside there. My daughter-in-law isn’t in favour of a housing loan...Their need for money is more than their need for us, old parents. Since her job requires transfer now and then they don’t want us with them. Should they have a valid reason once they decide to leave us in a Home?”
“What? How dare he ask you to move to a Home? Your daughter-in-law is arrogant. They must have planned together!” said a friend.
“The younger gen has become irresponsible. They are selfish. Don’t leave it, Rangan. Tell your daughter-in-law to resign and look after you both!”
“I asked her to resign but my son says she has worked a lot for her promotion and if she stays at home, she will become mad!”
‘Atrocious!”
The heated discussion went on for sometime and the old men finally concluded that Rangan’s state was pitiable. They rubbed their hands and wiped off the sand, and walked towards their cars and two-wheelers, happy and satisfied that they have discussed something very relevant that morning.
Rangan walked slowly towards his house. His thoughts raced back to the incident which happened ten days before.
It was a call from his brother’s wife Sukanya. She was a widower now. It was more than a year since Rangan’s brother died. Rangan’s mother, a 95 year old lady, was with Rangan’s brother and sister-in-law.
He wondered why Sukanya had to call so early that morning.
“I am going on a pilgrimage tour with my neighbours next week. Can I leave amma with you for a few days? “ Sukanya asked him.
“Look, Sukanya, you know Geetha is not well and can’t take care of amma. Let’s leave her at a Home for sometime. You can come and pick her up as soon as you return from the tour!”
With this stern reply, he had cut the call that day.
There was no contact or call from Sukanya for some days.
But one fine day, he was surprised to see his nephew at the door of his house carrying his 95 year old mother.
‘Look, uncle, it wasn’t so nice of you to say that we should leave her at a Home. When her son is alive, healthy and wealthy, why should she go elsewhere?”
Without expecting a reply, he dumped the old woman in Rangan’s house and went away.
Rangan’s mind was set in not having his mother at home, because it would spell trouble for him. Geetha would never ever dream of having her mother-in-law with her. So the 95 year old woman was immediately transferred to a Home nearby.
He had forgotten this incident by now. The jolt of the car near him, and the curse of the driver brought him back to this world again.
He decided to bring back his mother home.

Kolam

2007-09-07T00:31:00.000+05:30

“How long will it take for you to draw a simple kolam*? Come soon. There is a lot of work to be done!”
Ranganayaki could hear her mother scream from inside the kitchen.
It was the month of Margazhi, a tamil month in which South Indian women exhibited their artistic and creative talent in the entrance or threshold of their houses. It was more like a “Kolam” competition. If one was a habituated walker in a by-lane or a street at dawn, one can observe the colourful designs of butterflies, swans, flowers and what-not.
Ranganayaki was good at drawing those dotted kolams. She got up early in the morning much before sunrise. She brought some cow dung and mixed it with water and made a paste. Then she swept the threshold of the house with broom and smeared the cow dung paste on the ground.
Her hand and her creative mind were doing all the work. At the same time her eyes were on the young man who was singing along with her father in the hall of her house. Sundaresan came at this time daily to learn music from her father.
Sundaresan was handsome and had all the qualities a woman would ask for. As he started singing, the whole house vibrated with his wonderful voice. By nature, Ranganayaki loved music and so she was smitten by his voice.
With the rice-flour in her hand, she stopped drawing the kolam and stood stupefied hearing him sing. Then with a sudden jerk, she came back to this world and continued to draw the kolam. She took the rice flour in her left hand, bent down and placed the dots casually and fast. She concentrated on connecting the dots and making a design out of it. The dots had to be joined in a sophisticated way to make a wonderful design. Deep concentration was essential because even if she did a single mistake, she had to wipe out that part and redraw again. Since it was all done on the wet soil, she was careful not to make a mess out of it.
At the same time, while she drew the kolam, she set a side glance at Sundaresan who was singing in the hall. She knew that he was setting his eyes on her too, while singing.
She joined the dots with the rice flour, looked at her kolam lovingly and felt immensely satisfied. Would Sunda look at her kolam today? She was eagerly waiting for him to come out.
Every day, while putting on his chappals and going out of the house, Sunda would look at it first and then look at her smiling with a slight nod of appreciation and walk away.
Was it love? Or was it a sign of only appreciation? She could not fathom. But those were the few seconds in her life which she enjoyed everyday.
The day rolled by and it was almost sunset.
She heard her parents talking.
“Sunda sent a message through his brother. He has got a new job. He won’t be coming from tomorrow...”
Ranganayaki was standing near the entrance. Her gaze slowly turned towards the kolam. Afte being tread upon the whole day, the rice flour mixed with the soil and her work of art which she had carefully done in the morning was not there.
“Ranganayaki, wake up..it is almost sunrise..”
Ranganayki woke up, took the rice flour and started drawing a new kolam..
Another day has started, but without Sundaresan to appreciate her kolam. There was no music that day. She bent down silently to place the dots with a ray of hope that he might turn up one day. The dots connected perfectly that day, rekindling her hopes and giving a feeling of joyful anticipation.
* kolam = rangoli

Who is in?

2007-09-07T00:21:00.000+05:30

The interview was over.
The Managing Director Mr. Girinath invited the two selected candidates for a cup of coffee at his house the next morning.
That was the final round.Girinath was to select one out of the two as his Manager.
Arun or Vinay.
Arun was certain he would get the job. He felt that he had answered very well during the interview.
Next morning, both Arun and Vinay arrived at the right time.
They waited in the drawing room.
Girinath came in, wished them and asked them to be seated...
They were all served biscuits and coffee.
It was an informal meet and Girinath started talking while he sipped the coffee now and then.
Vinay took his biscuits and started drinking the coffee, and was nodding his head.
Arun , out of respect, kept on holding the cup and was watching Girinath talking while giving comments now and then.
Now it was time for Girinath to tell them who was selected. Arun’s coffee was becoming cold. He wondered whether he should gulp it or keep it back on the tray.
Time was up and he could not decide about the coffee.“Vinay, you are selected as my Manager. Congrats!” Girinath shook his hands and turned towards Arun.
“Arun, you could not give me company even for a cup of coffee! Should you not have finished your coffee by now, while we talked? How would you support me in my endeavors? I am sorry!”

Fear of the unknown - short story

2007-09-07T00:12:00.000+05:30

"I didn't dare look over my shoulder. I knew if I did, it would all be over."
“I love life and I want to live!” John was muttering to himself repeatedly.
John was narrating to his friend Sheetal what happened the day before. John still looked dazed and was in shock.
It was a pleasant Sunday morning. Nancy loved that place on the cliff top. John and Nancy went on a picnic that day because John felt it was the right spot to express his love to Nancy. It was a place which she loved most.
Nancy and John worked in the same office. They had been dating for three months and it was Nancy who first declared that she loved John.
John was in cloud nine when he heard Nancy say that she loved him.
He decided to take her out on Sunday because he felt that it was time to accept her love and propose to her. He did not want to make her wait and give her a suspense.
John and Nancy reached the hill top and rested for a while. After a light snack and hot tea, Nancy took out her camera and started taking pictures of the scenic beauty around her.
John was fully enjoying nature. He walked slowly towards the edge of the cliff.

He was almost at the end of the cliff. He looked down. A gush of wind brushed his face and he raised his hand and felt the force of the wind.?

He suddenly felt a deep hatred to this place. People jumped. Why? Because they were stupid.
“Johnnnn!”
When Nancy called him, there seemed to be an echo. No one else was around.
“Turn back, and stay still, John! I want to take a snap of you. But be careful. Ok?”
John turned around and looked at Nancy.
He placed his steps carefully.
He loved the challenge, but there was some kind of fear.
What if he fell down? Would he die in a second? Or would he have the chance to look at a new world which the scientists have yet to discover? It made him feel that people are so small but yet they think big.
He closed his eyes for a moment thinking of what was over his shoulders.
Should he turn back, he would dive into the unknown world, deep down, and become a skeleton.
“Come on, say cheeeese! “ Nancy told him.
“Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!” He said while his jaws shook. He was scared stiff. But
he did not show out his jitters.
It looked as though time froze for a second.He felt a chill running through his spine. He was amazed and at the same time afraid. Is this what is called “fear of the unknown?”

“Come on, say cheeeese! “ Nancy told him.
“Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!” He said while his jaws shook. He was scared stiff.
“Come on, say cheeeese! “ Nancy told him.
“John, come on, open your eyes, and say cheese!” Nancy almost screamed. The echo was loud and clear.
“Click!”
He made a few, hasty steps forward. It was a great sense of relief.
He wanted to live. Life is valuable. He wanted to love, have a family, be more and more happy, enjoy every moment of his life till he lived.

He had learnt a lesson of life that day.
He started laughing loudly as he raced towards her, hugged her and planted a kiss on her forehead.
With a happy jolt , thanking God that he is alive,, John came back to this world again. He shrugged his shoulders as if he wanted to forget the unknown world for the time being and looked at Sheetal.
“Well, Sheetal, aint life worth living?”

A repost of the short story posted in Sulekha.com on 30th July. The starting line was given by Sulekha.com to form a story.

A stubborn conversationalist!

2007-06-28T12:47:00.000+05:30

Knock. Knock.
Mrs. and Mr. R were standing at the entrance door waiting for me to say a hello to them.
My husband S raised his voice from behind me.
“Hey R, welcome! P, meet Mrs.and Mr. R. R joined office yesterday!”
“Welcome, please come in!”
I directed them to the sofa and they sat down on the edge. It was a hesitation on seeing strangers.
“I will be back in a jiffy!” My husband went inside, put on his pant and shirt, and told me,
“P! R and I are going out for 10 minutes. Keep talking to Mrs. R!”
‘Ok!”
R and S left..
I decided to be the conversation starter. Judging by her face that she might be a shy woman, I decided to make her feel comfortable.
“Would like to have a coffee or a tea?”
She nodded her head meaning no, thank you.
“How about having a cool drink?”
She nodded her head again. There was nothing more to offer, obviously because I was not prepared enough to make a breakfast for them.
So I switched on to our favourite ‘weather” topic.
“So how is Chennai?”
“Not bad…” she dragged.
“It’s so hot and sultry…”
“Yeah”
“The heat is unbearable. How is it in Bombay?”
“Not this much..”
“Cooler than Chennai?”
“Yeah!”
“Here the heat is unbearable!”
“Yeah!”
There was nothing more coming from her.
Should I drag the weather topic or should I change it? I was confident that I can still hold on. So I decided to continue.
“Hope it rains!”
“Yeah..”
“It’s raining cats and dogs in Cochin!”
She looked at me as if it was news for her.
“Shall I switch on the TV?”
She nodded her head slowly as if to say yes.
I switched on the TV.
She seemed disinterested and looked around here and there.
There was nothing interesting in the TV.
She looked at a painting on the wall.
“My aunty gifted it to me..”
“Who asked you?” Probably she thought of asking me, but she ignored what I said.
Oh my, Sand R! Please come soon.
I have exhausted all the topics!
If S and R showed signs of delaying, I would surely go for the family albums.
But there was one final arrow left.
“Do you have kids?”
She brightened up.
“How many?”
“Two! A son and a daugthter!”
She was beaming. Now I knew I have caught hold of a topic of interest.
I switched on to my next question.
“How do you manage these kids? Kids are darn mischievous these days.! Not like our generation! Gosh!”
That was enough! She started talking about her kids and she went on and on. I relaxed and leaned on the sofa. All I have to do now is only listen to her!
Knock. Knock.
I went and opened the door.
S and R.
“P, did u talk with her? Mrs. R, were you comfortable?”
‘Yeah!” she said and nodded her head.
R looked silently at her. He knew there was something waiting for him at home for leaving her with a stranger and going out!

Posted in Sulekha.com on 16 Jun 07

Morning walk in Chennai!

2007-06-27T18:48:00.000+05:30

For the past so many years, I have been longing to go for an early morning stroll. I have never had the time or the willingness till now since household work and family commitments kept me occupied.
But when I watched the Chennai walkers one early morning while I was going to attend an early morning muhurtham (wedding), I was tempted to get on to the “daily walk” routine.
“Go for a walk every morning or evening. You have to work off some of your pounds, Mrs.Sivan!”. The cardiologist sounded stern this time. This was another reason why I wanted to go for a walk daily.
“Can I attempt the treadmill, sir? “ My husband was not that pleased.
He was certain that the treadmill would see one of the corners of a room soon.
“Shall we get a dog?” I asked my husband. I had read somewhere that taking a dog out helps humans to shred off those pounds. He was sure that he would be the one to walk along with the dog after some days and I will start churning out excuses.
Moreover he was scared about the effect it would have on his purse.
I was thinking hard. The potato roast was getting cooked on the stove.
“Now what are you thinking about?” my husband asked.
“About burning calories!”
“Now stop burning the potatoes first. Then you can think about burning calories!” He loved potato roast and could not even think of it getting burnt!
He decided to accompany me. He had no choice.
“But where shall we go?”
Chennai doesn’t have many places for walking as such.
I was looking out for a suitable place where there would be no crowd, no hooting of horns, no health-drink sellers….
Any resident of Chennai knows that it is not safe to walk on the roads of Chennai.
“Let’s ask Mrs. Ram. She walks in the campus of I.I.T.”. Obviously who would not want to walk inside the most envied campus in the city? It was my first choice.
Husband went and asked her son who was studying in I.I.T.
“She needs a pass, uncle..”
“Of course, she has passed her graduation. Do you guys need a qualification even to walk on your campus?”
He had a personal grudge because he couldn’t get into I.I.T to study.
“Let’s go to the Boat Club Road...” I suggested.
My suggestion was taken in the best of spirit. After all, it was going to be just a walk down the road!
“How about getting a pair of jogging shoes for me?” It is plain wonder who discovered the word called “mute”! I can’t blame him; he is yet to get confidence in my achieving this goal of shedding off pounds.
Boat Club Road is a very posh area where leading industrialists live! I loved to gaze and gape at those houses and be in a dream world for sometime.
Next day, we started walking there and as I stopped now and then to read the name boards of the residents and got over-excited, my husband decided that we should stop this exercise program but never had the heart to say so. Can we please go elsewhere from tomorrow, he asked. I could understand his embarrassment.
“Let’s try the BesantNagarBeach or the Marina Beach...” He said.
“No. I am scared of Tsunamis!”
I never went to the beach, no, not even to have sundal or bajjis, after the tsunami disaster.
“Then how about going for a walk in the NageswaraRaoPark?”
Next morning, we started off to the Park. I was happy. Proximity also mattered and this was suitable.
It was amazing to see walkers from all walks of life. It was a sight watching Churidars to sarees, dhotis to jeans, walkers to joggers, couples, families etc., walking, as if with only one goal in life – winning the battle of the bulge.
“Shall we go tomorrow too?”
My husband was eager to know.
The sign inside the park said “1 round = Half KM”
I managed to walk around once but I felt I had walked quite a distance when I saw the sign.
“I have covered half a Kilometer! It’s a long distance! Let’s go!”
“But your brother said you need to walk six rounds!”
“I am feeling hungry already!”
All my husband could do was to nod and heave a few sighs.
Guys tell me, is there a place in Chennai where one can have a quiet, safe walk with no hooting horns, where one can walk without tripping over a sleeping person on the platform, or without stepping on cow dung? And chain robbers? And stray dogs?...
I am still waiting for a long, free walk daily,which would work off my pounds!

Chennai is the capital of Tamilnadu, India

Posted in Sulekha.com on 7th May 07

How I spent my summer vacation!

2007-05-02T20:38:00.000+05:30

Studies say that there may be a permanent energy crisis in future; to the extent we won’t have gas or electricity even to make chapathis or rice.
So let’s spin our wheel of memory to many years before when ox and bullock carts used to carry us and our luggage. These carts were main mode of transport in villages.
During our school days, (this is something which everyone not barriing age would remember) every year, when the school reopened, our English Teacher made us write an essay on “How I spent my summer vacation”.
How much I dreaded that first day, mainly because of the essay!
This was the toughest essay I had to write during my childhood days because while others made a trip to Bombay and India Gate, or Delhi and Taj Mahal, or even to US or Switzerland, I had nothing to write on, because my trips were always to a village where my grandparents lived. My cousins and I were invariably dumped there during every summer vacation, year after year, if I remember right, till I completed school.
But now, when I think of the village and the greenery surrounding it, they are pleasant remembrances compared to the vacations being spent by the younger generation, of late. The heat, special classes, boredom, (“I am bored” is what these kids have to say these days) make these kids yearn for the school environment and back-to-routine.
Now coming back to the bullock-cart – my memories race back to when we got down from the train, smelling of coal, with our hold-all and the suitcase, “Payyan” (means boy) was there to greet us and take us home. As far as I know, it never struck us that he would have a name. He was “Payyan” for us.
The cart had two gentle bullocks tied to it. Payyan was an expert in balancing the luggage and us in the cart. . He was the cart driver and all he did was to prod and whip the bullock The bullocks, which would move as gently as possible, had the unique instinct to lead us to our home.
Payyan would first place the luggage in front and then make a young kid sit cramped with his tiny legs on the luggage.. Then after a debate of who should sit behind with their legs dangling down, payyan was the one to decide on it, he would jump and sit on the edge of the seat in front and prod the bullocks to move.
We realized that the cart is moving only when our head started knocking on the cart. Every ten steps, the bullocks went on a strike and refused to budge. Payyan had to prod and whip and make peculiar sounds to make them move.
Payyan entertained us with his typical village talk in a nasal slang and sang a few songs to while away the time. It would have been hardly a five-minute drive in the car, while these bullocks took nearly half an hour to take us home.
Our impatience and restlessness would start showing half-way because of the slow pace. Swaying rhythmically and trying to balance and fighting the movements was quite tiring. In order to entertain us, Payyan kept singing, and at the same time, made strange noises to keep the bullocks moving.
“Now, if you don’t stop talking, I will see that you stick to the cart and not move at all. I know magic!” He would shout at the kids.
The youngest of the lot never ceased to cry on hearing it, though this was his tactics to scare the kids year after year...
The creaking of the cart, the moving bullocks, and other aspects of the village was a guide to harmonious simplicity but now their links to the cities have made it a rare quality.
However the energy crisis which is looming large might bring about a revolution which would take us back to our past again, and who knows, though they are threatened with extinction, we may soon see bullock-carts getting a new lease of life and see them plying in the heart of the city!!
Showcased on http://www.sulekha.com/blogs on May 2, 2007

The killer instinct! (100 words)

2007-05-02T20:36:00.000+05:30

“Close the door. I will be back in half an hour” ,my husband said.
I was busy watching a mega serial, with tears streaming down my face. Poor woman. She seemed to be getting into lot of trouble which no one else can ever imagine! My sympathies are always for women.
She was at the door. She approached me slowly in her usual lethargic style.
I could not hear anything, but sensed some movement near me.
I turned to look at her.
My heart was in my mouth. I was ready to hit her.
Shameless she was, she bit me. And... I had to kill her!
Goodbye, Ms. Mosquito!

Cute!

2007-03-20T07:07:00.001+05:30

I enjoyed this one!

Flash fictions

2007-02-06T16:01:00.000+05:30

To hell with her! - Fiction No.1

"To hell with her!"
Dimple has left him. She has abused his trust, and gone away with someone else.
Though she ditched him, he still loved her and he wanted to marry her. He realized that he was obsessed with her.
He can never live without her.
He got into his car, and sobbed like a kid.
He decided to commit suicide. He was half drunk now but still sane enough to drive the car.
He took a pen and paper and started writing.
“No one except DIMPLE is responsible for my death. Dimple, you won’t be happy without me. You will realize it sooner or later.”
He was actually an optimistic guy, not the kind who would break down easily. But he had been made to look like a fool. How can he face his friends now? Or how can he face others who knew that he was going to marry Dimple?
He decided to walk in silently to his room and tie a sari round his neck and finish his life...
It was raining heavily. He parked his car, walked into his house and rang the bell.. His dad opened the door.
“Prem! Where did you go? Why are you so late?? You could have called me and told that you would be home late. Now look what you have done to your mom!”
He looked behind his dad and saw his mom’s pale face, full of tears.
“We thought you would have met with an accident.”. His sister ran and hugged him.
He was just an hour late!
“Oh mom, I am back now. Why are you making a big fuss? Come on; give me food, I ‘m famished!”
To hell with Dimple. He changed his mind. He was going to live…for his parents.

The Real Actor! - Fiction No.2

The awards function was going on. Shyam Sunder was feeling excited as well as jittery. He knew how much he longed to be present in these functions.
Today he was to get a prestigious award for “Best Actor” for a film. He had dreamt of it all and yearned for them so much. Now his dreams have come true. It was the greatest moment for him.
Shyam Sunder’s name was announced. It was a top honour which any actor would die to get.
There were actually two heroes in the film and both had done stunning performances. It was quite close.
Devender was another actor who deserved the award. He was another hero in the film and had performed well. It had been a tough competition. Devender was an established actor who had already won many accolades in the past.
The bare truth was Shyam Sunder was jealous of him.
Devender was seated next to him and he started clapping loudly as soon as Shyam Sunder’s name was announced. There was a glow in Shyam’s face as he went to get the trophy.
After collecting the award, Shyam Sunder gave a speech…
“I did not get this award easily. It was not a cake-walk. I struggled hard…I had to compete with my co-actor who had won accolades in the past. It was pretty tough…I am indebted to my fans and am deeply honored…”
Amidst noisy claps, he climbed down and sat beside Devender.
“Congrats..you deserve this recognition!” Devender said to Shyam Sunder.
The function was over. Shyam Sunder went home excited and happy.
He was in his bed now thinking about the function.
“A lakh rupees….at least next year, I should not tip these guys but should earn the award….”
His conscience woke up and he slept well..

Bloggorreah !

2007-02-03T15:40:00.000+05:30

"Doctor, doctor, something is troubling me”
The doc wasn’t perturbed. He knew what this guy was going to tell him.
“I am not able to blog! When I sit before the comp, I go blank. My hands shiver, my fingers go numb and I just stare at the screen!”
“Hmm, this is a chronic case of Blogstipation..” The doc diagnosed immediately.
Doc: How many times do you blog in a day?
Patient: Twice a day and if possible, thrice too!
The doc makes a note of it. - Irritable Blogwell Syndrome.”
Doc: When did you experience these symptoms before?
Patient: Two years back, when I started blogging, I was tempted to participate in the blogathan and I got...errr…bloghorreah..
Doc: Bloghorreah? That would have been pretty bad…how many times?
Patient: Around 5 blogs a day and I had to copy and paste some blogs. How stupid of me. I acted like a blogopotamus! The blurkers and commentariats encouraged me to blog every day.Then I became a blogroach and at this stage I had this habit of…pcchttt….don’t tell anyone…blogging in my head before I dozed off. Someone suggested my visiting a bloggologist and he said I have bloghorreah and if it isn’t treated, I would get hitnosis and splog as well!
Doc: What did he prescribe that time? I should know your history before I start any treatment! The doctor was bloggerghasted.
The doc thought to himself “My, My, this Barking Moonbat needs a long-term treatment..
This chronic case was going to be a challenge for him!
Patient: He told me to stick on to plogs, blawgs and klogs three times a day, and he said he would get me weaned from this blogistan addiction. But he never told me that it would have side effects like blogstipation and now I am here before you!
The patient looked hopefully at the doc.
“Can I blog again..tell me..please….to blog or not to blog is my question….Can you cure me, Doc?

Read this glossary and you all will know what the doctor and patient were talking about!

Blog glossary:
Bleg ... To use one's blog to beg for assistance (usually for information, occasionally for money). One who does so is a 'blegger'. Usually intended as humorous.
Blogathy..When you just don't give a damn about posting in your blog that day.
Blogger bash.. A party for bloggers; a blogger get-together.
Bloggerel..variant of "doggerel." Opinion put forward on a blog that has previously been repeated over and over and over again until it makes people sick.
Blogopotamus..A very long blog article
Blogroach... A reader who infests the comment section of a weblog, disagreeing with everything posted in the most obnoxious manner possible.
Blurker .. One who reads many blogs but leaves no evidence of themselves such as comments behind; a silent observer of blogs.
Commentariat... The community of people who leave comments on a blog.
Edu-blog.. An education oriented blog
Google bomb.. To intentionally insert words or phrases into as manyblogs as possible to increase the ranking on the Google search engine.
Hitnosis... Being unable to stop yourself constantly refreshing your browser to see if your hit counter or comments section has increased since the last time you did it
Troll... to post a provocative article purely in order to generate an angry response (usually followed by sending a mass e-mail shot to the target audience) and commensurate increase in hit rate.
Whoring (for hits)... Posting things on a blog purely to generate an increase in visitors
Blogistan : Totality of blogs
Blogroach : reader who infests the comment section of a weblog, disagreeing with everything posted in the most obnoxious manner possible.
Blurker: One who reads many blogs but leaves no evidence of themselves such as comments behind; a silent observer of blogs.
Blawg : Legal blogs
Klogs :Knowledge blogs
Plogs: Project blogs
Barking Moonbat: Someone who sacrifices sanity for the sake of consistency

Train love

2007-01-01T20:43:00.000+05:30

Raghav got into the train as fast as he could. The train was to depart in another five minutes. He thought himself lucky enough to have caught the train on time. He looked around, found his seat number, placed his bag under his berth and sat down and wiped his face. Five more minutes to tick away now and he relaxed a bit. He looked around to know who his temporary neighbours were. He turned left to see a beautiful girl sitting next to him. He did not feel the need to talk to her, but silently enjoyed the good feeling that came over him just setting glances towards her.
Nisha was reading a book and did not seem to bother who sat on her right. The ticket checking was over and fatigue and tiredness crept over him. Raghav was waiting for Nisha to put down her book so that he can raise his middle berth and drift off to sleep.
He turned left slightly and looked at her.
“Should I start a convo with her and make her put down the book?” he asked himself. He was becoming sleepy and impatient. He was thinking of a pick-up line which would be appropriate at that time.
Nisha should have felt that heavy stare on her probably. She looked up from her book, and turned towards him.
“Do you want to go up?” Nisha asked.
Raghav smiled and nodded his head.
“It’s ok for sometime. Carry on!” Raghav realized that it was a blatant lie in order to impress her.
Why was he trying to be nice to her? He could hardly understand.
A nervous tension shot up but he felt an impulse to talk to her
“Chennai?” he asked.
She looked up and said “yes….”
She now sensed that he wanted to talk to her. She closed her book.
“You?” She asked. “Me too!” He replied.
His mind was racing to say something appropriate. But she went a step further and told him where she worked and how she visits her parents every weekend and how lonely they felt, etc.
The conversation between them now eased up.
She went to the extent of talking about her personal matter. She said that this time her parents have fixed up an alliance. She was not interested in seeing his photo nor was she eager to follow it up since she had a lot of expectations about her guy and somehow felt that this alliance would not match her.
“What are your expectations then?” Raghav asked.
“He must be tall and handsome. He should be interested in reading and traveling coz I love to travel, he should give me space, He should be interested in fine arts...” She was listing them up. “Wow. She sure must be talented. That is why she is asking for someone who would share her interests…” His thoughts were racing.
Raghav loved travelling, he was interested in fine arts too. Would he suit her? He smiled to himself. What a silly thought!
After an hour or so, he felt that he would sleep right there. Its been a hectic day. He politely told her that he would want to sleep now and got up from his seat to make his bed.
Both fell asleep.
Raghav did not know when the train reached Chennai. He hurriedly took his bag and got down. He could see Nisha struggling with her two bags and offered to help her.
As she was leaving, he said, “It was nice meeting you/May I know your name if you don’t mind?”
“Nisha….”
“And you stay in..?”
“Adyar….”
“Thanks….for the help..” She drawled and walked off.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to marry this guy..?” She knew she would relax her conditions in marriage if it was Raghav….but she brushed off the thought as if she was being stupid
He walked slowly behind her, not wanting to catch up with her and embarrass her.
He then called an auto and reached home.
“Raghav has come...” His dad was reading a newspaper and he seemed happy to see his son.
His mom came out of the kitchen.
“Brush your teeth and have your coffee first…” Raghav looked at his mom as if he wished to say something. “Perhaps later….” He thought and walked towards the washroom.
His mom was waiting for him with a steaming hot cup of coffee while he washed his face and came back to where she was standing.
“Ma, I want to say something…”
She watched him closely. Now what was he going to say?
“Let’s drop this alliance, ma…”
“Why?..”
“I am not in a hurry to marry..”
With a puzzling look, his mom stood still.
How would she know he has already met the girl he was supposed to meet today, and she had completely different expectations? He felt he wasn’t the right match for Nisha…He dreaded the thought of getting rejected by Nisha . She would be in his thoughts forever as his train lover. He did not want to tell Nisha that he was the guy who was supposed to meet her.
He came back to reality as he heard his dad call her parents…
“I am sorry my son is not interested in marriage right now and we are not proceeding further….excuse us….”

Huan Cho does it again!!

2006-12-22T22:30:00.000+05:30

One beautiful December evening last year Huan Cho and his girlfriend Jung Lee were sitting by the side of the ocean.

It was a romantic full moon, when Huan Cho said "Hey baby, let's play Weeweechu." "Oh no, not now, lets look at the moon" said Jung Lee.

"Oh, c'mon baby, let's you and I play Weeweechu. I love you and it’s the perfect time," Huan Cho begged.

"But I rather just hold your hand and watch the moon." "Please Jung Lee, just once play Weeweechu with me."

Jung Lee looked at Huan Cho and said, "OK, we'll play Weeweechu."

Huan Cho then grabbed Jung Lee's hand and
Picked up his guitar and they both sang.....

Weeweechu a melly Chlistmas,

and a happy New Year.

I got this cute little story in my forward mail and perhaps this is the continuation

But this year Huan Cho was terribly upset. She refused to play Weeweechu and she did not want him to hold her hand and watch the moon either.
“What’s come over her?” Huan Cho was puzzled!
As he walked down the lane, an idea struck him.
He got her a bouquet of roses and a wonderful gift.
Jung Lee was waiting for him.
Huan Cho knelt down and offered her the roses and the gift.
“My dear wife, Jung Lee, I promise to baby-sit Chin Yung Lee the whole year!”
Jung Lee felt so happy and said “Ok, we’ll play Weeweechu!”
Huan Cho lifted the tiny pink bundle, kissed it lightly and held Chin Yung Lee in one hand. He then picked up his guitar on the other, and they sang,

Weeweechu a melly Chlistmas,

Weeweechu a melly Chlistmas,

and a happy New Year……….

Wish all bloggers a Merry Christmas and a Happy New year!

These kids !!

2006-12-22T22:28:00.000+05:30

Mahesh and Rekha were at a loss to understand why he was behaving in this fashion.
Mahesh lost his temper that day and his wife, Rekha was helpless too.
This time, she was unable to bear his temper tantrums. He wanted an ice-cream !
“I want an ice-cream today……..if you don’t get it for me, I won’t attend my sloka classes...” He screamed.
“It is sheer blackmail! “ Rekha sighed.
One hour of sloka class was the only time she had rest. If he was at home, he would keep on nagging her. What if he discontinues the classes?? She could not even imagine it.
Two days before, he has been asking for chocolates. He was walking around with a drooped face and pestering both of them. However, Mahesh felt sorry for him and got him the chocolates.
It is not that they didn’t want to get him what he wanted but they had been to the dentist some time back and the dentist had said that his teeth were full of decay and they would have to pull out a few if he did not control eating sweets! It was only for his good.
“Listen...”Mahesh said. . .”You are testing our patience. This is not the way to behave. It is for your good that we are asking you not to have ice creams and chocolates. Now be good and go to sloka class...” His advice was falling into deaf ears.
“No. I want ice-cream!” That was the only mantra that day.
“If you are going to throw these tantrums, I will call the dentist and make him pull out all your teeth!” No threats scared him. He kept on repeating what he wanted.
He didn’t seem to care about his teeth being pulled.
“I can go without my teeth, who cares!” he said.
“How adamant you are! Don’t act so kiddish. You are a grown-up now” Mahesh felt like thrashing him and make him sit in a corner. He had promised his mom that he would never hurt him. That was the only constraint which was preventing him now.
About a week back, Rekha prepared laddus for a get-together. She was aware that he would lay his hands on it. She hid them in a top-shelf where she was sure he can’t reach... But oh no, when she had gone out to buy veggies, he went inside the kitchen, pulled up a chair and gobbled as many laddus as possible. It was unfortunate that while he was getting down, the chair slid and he fell down and fractured his leg.
He was down in bed for a month.
“Why don’t you understand how concerned we are about you?” Mahesh was in tears. Would he ever understand at all? His mother has gone on a holy tour fully confident that they will be able to cope up with him.
But Mahesh blamed his mother for these happenings. His mother has made him a spoilt brat. She has been giving him everything even before he could ask. Now who was suffering?
Mahesh is still puzzled as to how to manage a 75-year-old kid!

Never say good-bye...

2006-11-23T19:13:00.000+05:30

Santosh felt very happy and excited that day. It was Valentine’s Day and he was going to propose to Nikhitha. He had been waiting eagerly for this auspicious day to declare his love for her as it was a day to forget heartbreaks and mistakes and ask this magical question, “Will you be my Valentine?”
Falling in love with Nikhitha was accidental.
Santosh had met her a few months before….
Nikhitha was waiting for her bus to pick her up in order to go to office and Santhosh was also there sitting on his bike and waiting for his friend who had gone into a shop to buy something.
He did not notice her first. Nikhitha was not strikingly beautiful but she had something in her which made a guy look at her again.
Santosh was actually looking on the other side, waiting for his friend to come out when suddenly he got a feeling of being watched closely. He turned his head swiftly, to find Nikhitha staring at him wide-eyed.
“Who is she? Does she know me? Have I met her somewhere else? “He was trying to place her but he felt that it was a new face he is coming across just now. He was too puzzled. However he tried to ignore her and continued looking on the other side.
Her bus came and she left that place.
He forgot about her that day. But when it was fate that he should meet her the next day, who can prevent it?
His friend requested him to give him a ride to that shop again to buy something else. Santosh was sitting on his bike and waiting while the friend went inside the shop. He looked around. Suddenly he remembered Nikhitha staring at him the previous day. “Think of the angel, there she is” he said to himself as he saw her walking slowly towards her usual waiting place.
She stared at him again with an amusing and a puzzled look on her face. He could not control himself that day. He was too curious to know why she was looking at him so intensely.
He walked towards her and said.” Hello...”
She did not reply but looked at him with a questioning look.
“Do I know you?” Santosh asked.
“No…”
“Excuse me, but you seem to look at me as though I am familiar to you. I was just a little curious. I am sorry...” Santosh walked back to his bike.
Nikhitha looked at her watch and noticing that she has ten more minutes for her bus to pick her up, she walked towards him and said, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to look at you this way. You resemble my friend…replica of him....my friend Pradeep..”
“That’s ok...” Santosh shrugged as if he would forget the whole incident.
A lump formed in her throat as she continued.
‘Pradeep died in an accident a month back..There is a striking resemblance between you and him. I was too stunned and thought for a moment that it might be him…We were supposed to get married next month...”
Santhosh felt a sympathy wave sweeping him over.
“Sorry to hear that. But you can face it and move on. That is life..isnt it?.” he said. Though it was a mechanical reply, he realized that he had spoken beyond limit. Would she mistake him? He looked at her face. No, she didn’t react.
Her bus arrived and she just waved at him and left.
He started meeting her everyday at the bus stop. He did not know why he wanted to console her and brighten her mood. But it was just what he was doing. He was too puzzled about his feelings for her. Why should he think of her again and again? After all, she was a total stranger..
Santhosh never realized that he would start loving her gradually.
But then he decided to give her time to get over her grief and come back to the present.
At the same time, he tried to find out what was in her mind too.
“Given the chance, if I meet a right person, I would consider marriage...” she said.
That day, Valentine’s Day, was a suitable day to declare his love for her, and he felt he was making the right move.
He bought a card and a gift, expressed all his thoughts in a paper, placed it along with the card. Then he called her up and said he would like to meet her.
Nikhitha was there in their usual meeting place.
He was straightforward and started right away..
“When you told about Pradeep, I felt the grief. I’ve felt something for you for quite sometime..”
Nikhitha should have guessed what was coming…She did not allow him to continue..
Then abruptly she said,” I have always and will always love Pradeep..Thanks for sharing my grief. Your striking resemblance to Pradeep hit me first. I do hold you in high esteem as my good friend…But I loved him not for his looks but for what he was…It is difficult for me. Please understand...”
Santhosh was not perturbed.
He smiled and gave her the gift and retained the card with him..
“Accept a gift from a friend...” he said.
Nikhitha gladly accepted the gift, talked with him for sometime and left.
She has found her way back or the best was yet to come.. Will she ever love again, or will she live out the romance of her heart through memories?
Santhosh went back with a heavy heart yet full of hope because he has not yet lost her. He was happy that he did not express his love for her still. It was not the end of the world.
Perhaps she would change her mind in future….

Raindrops on roses..

2006-10-31T17:51:00.000+05:30

One summer, a drought threatened the crop in a small town. On a hot and dry Sunday, the village parson told his congregation, "There isn't anything that will save us except to pray for rain. Go home, pray, believe, and come back next Sunday ready to thank God for sending rain."
The people did as they were told and returned to church the following Sunday. But as soon as the parson saw them, he was furious.
"We can't worship today. You do not yet believe," he said.
"But," they protested, "we prayed, and we do believe."
"Believe?" he responded. "Then where are your umbrellas?"

Joke apart; when, in some parts, there is not even a drop of rain, it is now raining in Chennai...who would not love rain? The musky odour that emanates in the air gives a unique pleasure. No umbrellas for me when I go out. Let the rain pour.

I was sitting by a window watching the rain. It seemed as if the earth suddenly looked more beautiful. There is a sms text which goes like this: The rain makes all things beautiful, the grass and flowers too. But if rain really makes all things beautiful, why doesn't it rain on you? Does rain make humans beautiful too?

The leaves seem to dance in the rain. Someone said it takes only a raindrop to make a leaf dance..

I have learnt to accept the rainy days. It is time to take out all those books and magazines and read them from cover to cover or connect to the internet and update the blogs.

No writer or a filmmaker has ever spared rain from their creations.

“ Raindrops keep falling on my head but that doesn't mean my eyes will
soon be turning red. Crying's not for me cause I'm never gonna stop
the rain by complaining. Because I'm free. Nothing's worrying
me…” A hit song from the movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” still rings in my ears.

Maria of “Sound of Music” mentioned raindrops on roses in her “Favourite things” song...
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens;
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens;
Brown paper packages tied up with strings;
These are a few of my favorite things.

We are not to forget to mention ‘Mouna Raagam”, a tamil movie by Manirathinam, where Revathi (Heroine) dances to the rhythm of “Oho, Megham vanthatho”. Jothika , in the movie”Kushi” dances to the tune of “Megham karukuthu, minnal adikuthu”. “Andhi mazhai pozhigirathu” from Kamal’s “Raja parvai” is a lovely piece. Can someone suggest hindi rain songs?

There was another sms text today.
What did the male raindrop say to the beautiful female raindrop?
-I'm falling for you.

I liked it.

I remember that we used to eagerly look at our dad’s face when it rains , because he would declare a holiday for us that day!

The other side:

As I was watching the rain, I could see my helper opening the gate and coming in, fully drenched.

“You could have stayed at home. Why did you come, that too, without an umbrella?’

“The roof is blown off, no food, and my hut is half immersed in water..I came here so that I can take home at least some leftover food for my sick husband..”

Thousands homeless, many stranded…

I watch through the window again.
“When will the rain stop?”……

Post inspiration : Kartik Kannan

Raves and rants!

2006-10-29T10:21:00.000+05:30

The word “like” has become an epidemic now. There is no age bar to the use of this word “like”.
Like how? Like this:
“Like he came and he like opened his mouth and like he said “aarghhh!”
I like feel like screaming like.
Fillers can be used, yes, but not to the extent of making the other people close his or her ears.
“I, like, love you” would be the worst statement one can say to a lover.

These public speakers! I happened to attend a function where there were five guests and hardly half an hour time left. The audience were already leaving. The first guest went on and on for twenty minutes leaving the other guests with gaping mouths. The other speakers had to politely cut off their speech quickly and sit down.

Audiences generally appreciate the respect of time by these speakers. People have started preferring brevity of speeches, perhaps, even less than ten minutes of speech with specific points attract the crowd.. Kennedy, it is said, prepared speeches for less than 20 minutes and rarely used fillers. “Less is better than more” is the order of the day.

I happened to hear a discussion taking place among youngsters about ahimsa. According to them, ahimsa is “outdated” and Gandhi’s principle of Ahimsa as a peace-making process won’t work out now. Someone retorted that if one such Mahathma rises up again, Ahimsa will become active. Ahimsa is preachable, I think.

It is amazing to see people who drive and at the same time talk on cell phones. Sometimes one keeps talking on the cell phone while typing an email or chatting with a friend online. While using the cell phone on the road, it looks as if they are talking to themselves. Multitasking between parallel realities is fine but doesn’t it lead to lack of full attention, lack of concentration, time loss?… where is it all leading to?

While on one side we rave and rant about BP, cholesterol and diabetes even among the younger generation, fast food joints are seen at every nook and corner of the city. The worst part of it is the unhygienic conditions where the food is produced and made. Start loving home cooked food please!

Why is it that we expect others to say a hi or a hello to us first? My friend was complaining the other day that someone turned his face and did not say a hi first and so she turned her face and ignored him. What do we gain? Just try going out of your way to say a hello to a familiar face and watch their reaction.

Roles interchanged...

2006-10-18T16:41:00.000+05:30

“Had a tough day today…”
It was understandable. Anyone coming back from office would be exhausted after a hard day’s work. A cheerful beaming face at home (that’s me) welcoming with a steaming hot cup of coffee or tea with ‘Good Day” biscuits always helped.
“Honey, how was your day?”
How consoling when the question is asked back with similar concern. Hmm…
“We have run out of coffee powder…” I have to come out with what I need. Otherwise where will we get time?
“How many times have I told you not to start complaining or asking something as soon as I enter the house? Don’t you realize how exhausted I am?”
The exasperated tone would suppress anyone from further proceeding with the conversation. But there is nothing wrong in trying. I continued..
“Abhishek fell down and hurt himself..”
“What happened??”
“He slipped and fell from the stairs..”
“Abhishekkkkk………” A desperate call for Abhishek.
An angry stare….I was scared of it…I have to do my best to bring the temper down.
‘How careless can you be? You don’t even have the time to monitor him carefully?”
“What were you doing? Watching TV?”
“No…I was washing clothes….”
“When will you learn to manage your time? The kid is more important than washing those clothes!”
“We will take him to the doctor..”
“Should you wait for me to take him to the doctor?” I look down and listen patiently to the yells and screams.
‘Have you made the dinner?”.
“Yeah, rotis and dal..” A routine question and a routine reply
“Same stuff again? Why don’t you make something different? Vegetables and stuff? What for do I earn? Remember I am a Software Engineer with a handsome salary earning a whopping salary. What more do you want? Do I have to eat this stale thing everyday?”
“Sorry. This was what I could do today. You know how difficult it is...To look after Abhishek and do the cooking as well...”
“Do you know what will happen if I resign and stay at home?? Or what if they throw me out of the job?”
Silence is better than retaliating, isn’t it?
This work-life balance is becoming so difficult to maintain..
“Don’t give me excuses, right?” Should one talk back at this juncture?
“Look, I am doing my best. I am also a human. This is a temporary phase. I will also get a job soon. Both of us will work and things will improve” My voice becomes soft and husky though I am trying to put up this fight boldly..
Tears are ready to jump out of my eyes. No, I will not cry….because I am a man.

Pigs!!

2006-10-09T19:38:00.000+05:30

Almost all bloggers would have a “pet animal” post to their credit and the posts often mentioned about either a dog or a cat or a cow or rarely, a snake. But who would want a pig as a pet?

Probably because of this joke, one hesitates to have a pig as pet!

A man was on a walking holiday. He became thirsty so decided to ask at a home for something to drink. The lady of the house invited him in and served him a bowl of soup by the fire. There was a wee pig running around the kitchen, running up to the visitor and giving him a great deal of attention. The visitor commented that he had never seen a pig this friendly. The housewife replied: "Ah, he's not that friendly. That's his bowl you're using."

Though pigs are not a priority as pets, they have indirectly contributed a lot to the society. They appear in the Chinese Zodiac and they have an important role in kids’ education in the form of rhymes and stories as well. And pigs have participated in TV shows and Movies also.

“The three little pigs”, the fairy tale in which the wolf wanted to huff and puff the houses of the pigs needs a mention. One of the pigs made a house of brick with a chimney and lit a fire down and when the wolf tried to enter inside through the chimney it fell into the fire and the pig lived happily ever after. Pigs are smart.

But the latest generation is smarter, I guess. A joke goes like this:
One day the first grade teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs to her class. She came to the part of the story where the first pig was trying to accumulate the building materials for his home.
She read, "...And so the pig went up to the man with the wheelbarrow full of straw and said, 'Pardon me sir, but may I have some of that straw to build my house?'"
The teacher paused then asked the class, "And what do you think the man said?"
One little boy raised his hand and said, "I know...he said, 'Holy Cow! A talking pig!'"
Pigs have a role in kids’ nursery rhymes as well. “To market, to market, to buy a fat pig” and “piggy on a railway line” would be remembered by all who didn’t cry during their first few weeks in school.
Pigs make good food – ham and pork are pig foods. This is a joke I read in the net:

A farmer walks into a pub with a pig under his arm."Why have you got a pig under your arm?" asks the bartender."This isn't just any old pig," the farmer says, "This pig has twice saved my life. So, just to be on the safe side, I carry him about everywhere with me.""Oh really?" says the bartender, incredulously."Yes, once I fell into the river and he jumped in and dragged me to the bank. Another time my house caught fire and he ran in and saved me, the wife and the kids."As the farmer is talking the bartender can't help noticing that the pig is missing a leg."In which of those accidents did the pig lose its leg in?" he asks.The farmer replies: "Neither. An animal like this you don't eat all at once"

The “Hot Dog” is not actually made from dogs but pork – the flesh of the pig-is used.

Pigs have their own sporting events as well. The Wikipedia says that pigs have their own Olympics in which there are events like pig-racing (over an obstacle course), pig swimming (introduced at the 2006 Pig Olympics), and 'pigball' or 'swineball' which is much like football or soccer.

It is also said that pigs appeared in “Pink Floyd” music shows and a pig ran astray in one of the shows and created a scene.

And don’t get perturbed if someone calls you a “funny pig” or a ‘dirty pig” or even a “swine”. The pigs aren’t to be blamed for being dirty. They cool themselves by taking a muddy bath just like we do with water. Isn’t it fair enough?

There are also lots of pig-related idiom and this is one - "It's plain as a pig on a sofa". If a husband or wife uses this idiom, the other should not get upset. And try not to become the butt of the joke as this guy did:

A man was driving up a steep and narrow mountain road. A woman was driving down the same road.As they pass each other, the woman leans out the window and yells "Pig!" The man immediately leans out his window and replied, "How dare you?"They continue on their way and as the man rounds the next corner, he crashes into a pig in the middle of the road.

These misunderstood mammals have been there right from Ice Age, they say. They are a smart lot and easily trainable and in fact they are looked upon as stars in some parts of the world!

“The Empress of Blandings” - no one can say it is after all a pig, - won many awards in the “Fat pigs” contests and Lord Emsworth, the proud owner doted on it. P.G.Wodehouse featured the Empress in all his novels related to the Blandings castle, and these stories made an interesting read-up. The Empress was the subject of many plots and schemes related to the castle.

So if someone calls you a pig, feel proud!