SHE

SHE

She was born
One soul rejoiced and cried
Two eyes and hands devoured her
Alas, SHE went
Just as she was born

ELLE

Elle est née
Une âme s'est réjouie et a pleuré
Deux yeux et deux mains l'ont dévorée
Hélas, ELLE est morte
Dès sa naissance.

Penning

Thoughts pour in
Without barriers
Mind sifts and discards
Ink flows
Pen captures...for eternity.

Remembering Dad

Remembering Dad

2014, January 25

PublicFriendsFriends except AcquaintancesOnly MeCustomClose FriendsAlliance françaiseSee all lists...St. Anthony's High School, Himayathnagar, HyderabadnizamsSt. Anthony's High School, HyderabadBritish CouncilOsmania UniversityAcquaintancesGo Back

I remember you Dad, when you carried me on your shoulders each time, I refused to walk.

I remember you Dad, when you bought things and waited for me and Sandy to fight over what belonged to each, despite the fact that each item was bought in identical pairs.

I remember you Dad for all the rhyming jokes you cracked.

I remember you Dad for all the hindi songs you sang.

I remember you Dad for your incessant whistling.

I remember you Dad for dropping me tirelessly on the scooter, for every outing that I went to, to ensure my safety.

I remember you Dad, when I see a watchman, for you said, " We don't need a watchman for our house, for I have two pretty daughters and enough suitors who will keep an eye on them". LOL:)

I remember you Dad for appreciating the terrible pancake I'd made and saying that it was the best that you'd ever had.

I remember you Dad for telling my future father-in-law that I was ' well versed in cooking" ha ha ha.

I remember you Dad for all the times you shared your food so that we could have that extra morsel of the food we loved.

I remember you Dad for all the sacrifices you made, living alone for more than 25 years in a foreign country, away from all of us.

I remember you Dad for the way you fed me with sweets or other goodies.

I remember you Dad, on that day, when I fed you and you struggled to keep it from slipping off your mouth.

I remember you Dad, when you could speak no more and you held on to my hand and told me some of your deepest desires.

I remember you Dad and I shall always remember you.

Love you loads.

Je ne te dirai jamais Adieu!

We walked side by side

But far apart

Our thoughts taking us far away and yet so near

We walked right up to the end of the road

Where the descent began.

We both stopped

Two friends bound by strange bonds

Two friends walking side by side

Two friends eager to watch the morrow together

Two friends wanting to share

We had come to the end of the road

We both stopped to say ‘Au revoir’

I looked up and he looked up too

Our eyes met.

The rain drizzled into our eyes

People jostled us by

Cursing out loud

But we were both lost in oblivion

For in that instant we knew we had come

To the end of the road

There was no descent

No climb from that moment onwards

We were each other’s ends

But the road had to be walked

And we walked

Little knowing

What the morrow had in wake for us.

For little did we know that the descent

That we made

Was only to tear us away from one another

To carry us away from that

Beautiful destiny

That we had foreseen

Yesterday in the depths of each other’s eyes !

Little did we know

That the morrow was never to come

That the sharing would be gone

Torn apart by the cruel world

Little did we know

That one would say Adieu and not Au revoir!

Au revoir, my dear friend

Adieu it can never be

For, we both know that

For one who has traveled that far

There is no looking back.

We maybe oceans apart

Mountains may separate us

People may walk between us

But we have walked the walk

And no one can take the memory

Of the walk we walked!

So au revoir my friend,

And remember that ‘Adieu’

It can never be!

Seasons may come

Seasons may go, Mais

Je ne te dirai jamais ‘Adieu’!

What flowers can do to you!

As a child, I loved adorning myself with flowers and I loved their smell. We gathered them for our prayers, to adorn ourselves, to decorate our homes, to send special messages on special occasions and so on....

Later on in life, I outgrew my crush for them so much so that I began considering them too "dressy". I prefered them on the plants where, caressed by the lovely green leaves, they seemed much more right than on someone's tresses. Roses in their various hues never seemed excessively colourful due to the lovely blend. And would you believe it? They seemed to be happy and smiling.


So I was pleasantly surprised to learn this morning that flowers have another use, they make you sleep peacefully, sans nightmares! Worn in the evening, the petals apart from exuding a pleasant smell, lull the person into a tranquil slumber.
All you insomniacs, worth trying uh?

The Number Nines.

The number nines or kojjas or hijdas or eunuchs or transgenders frighten me very much. The minute I espy them somewhere, I close the doors and pretend to be absent. But they have been a subject of curiosity. I have seen most people abusing them or giving them alms. Some communities invite them for special occasions like births and give them a lot of money. They consider it a good omen.
Well, if they can consider them a good omen why can't we all? Why are we so damn scared of them? Why do we abuse them to such absurd levels? According to wikipedia, it is we, their fellow human beings, who are majorly responsible for their condition.

Today, the 19th September, 2008, the Times of India carried an article saying that Tamil Nadu was the first Indian state to create a locality, exclusively for the eunuchs. Kudos to the Government!
Despite all the fear and misgivings in my heart, I genuinely want them to lead a better life, where they don't beg through a display of their physcial faiblesse.
Yes, maybe this is an election gimmick, but, that such an idea has even occurred to somebody has to be really commended. I do hope that that these people find the much needed happiness and recognition in society and that we accept them more easily amongst us!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eunuchs

Honk, honk, toot toot!!

On a recent trip to France, what struck me was the tranquility that greeted me. The French believe in drawing the flavour of the ingredients rather than spice it up and hide the actual taste of the vegetables. Ah no, I haven't lost my marbles. I am only trying to draw a comparison here. Just like their cuisine, their country too offered me the real flavour of the place....birds chirping, the wind sighing, the branches whooshing in the breeze...babies crying faraway....you could even hear the rustle of the fallen leaves....I could even hear the noise in my head, my heartbeat, my light panting for breath after that walk (nearly 15 years since I had been able to do that so peacefully)...All lovely memories! And so natural and totally free of cost!
Well, I guess you are concluding that these are the ramblings of someone who has gone 'abroad'. Where in India can we get this kind of atmosphere in today's world? What can we do as one of the most populated countries in the world?
Then I came up with this idea. To start with, why don't we choose Monday as the 'No honking day"? Noboday honks on this day. It is not easy, it requires a lot of effort- a lot of focus on the road, an early start to work or school or college etc. etc.
But start we must. No pains, no gains!
It was said "If all those who speak would weigh their words, how light the air would be"....
Well, I'd like to reword it "If all those who honked, honked lesser, how tranquil the air would be".
Please don't wait for anyone's pat on the back, YOU MAKE THE MOVE AND SPREAD THE MESSAGE, AND YOU WILL SEE, THAT THIS IDEA WILL SELL FASTER THAN SHARUKH KHAN'S SIX PACK ABS" And don't forget to post your experiences here!

Dil se!

Hey, you out there, are you listening to me? You are nothing but a loser and a coward. Yes, you bet, you are. Blowing up so many innocent people just reiterates the fact.
Do you know how many families have been deprived because of your cowardice? A sister or a brother, a child, a support for old people, a wife, a husband, a father, a mother...and so on...but we are talking about relations here....What would you know about them, huh? You probably were led to believe that mindlessly killing people would prove your strength, your hatred for people who went against your beliefs, your identity...oh and many more such useless characterisitics. Oh, so you were an abandoned child or you were so poor that you couldn't make ends meet or you were such a misfit in society that you had to do something to get accepted here...Is that what this is all about? Getting back at the world for what you don't have or for what was taken away from you? Giving up your life or taking someone else's life will bring back all that you lost, is it?

Give me a break. Think and look around you for a change, you loser. Look at all those disabled people, blind, handicapped people, who are fighting hard to survive. Well, they could give up too, like you...but no. They are trying so hard to fight back and make it in this tough world. Believe me, the world is sometimes cruel, but they haven't thrown bombs and killed people to survive. Instead they fight back albeit in a different way. They try so hard to make people around them so happy.
God, your God and mine too and his or hers too, gave us a good healthy body and mind to be able to enrich this earth on which we are living. But what are you doing? Did you ever compare yourself with the other helpless men? Look at their plight, then you would know how rich you are. So please, make use of your life to give life and strengthen somebody else's life and don't waste it on manmade monstrosities to wipe yourself out and someone else out. Don't become a puppet in someone's hands.

YOU remain the loser either way.

You are a human being like me, and if I could figure this out, I am sure, you who plans all this unmerciful acts too can!

http://www.stservicemovie.com/land.html

Voyage as a teacher - Part II

Okie, now starts my real adventure! I was going to have my own class and thirty six people had signed up! Was I nervous? No, I just felt the adrenaline going haywire in me. One of my professors told me that most times that was what it was and not fear or nervousness. Most people mistook this excitement for fear. So armed with this soothing knowledge and dressed in one of my most confident outfits (I am sure you are wondering what a confident outfit is....well, its one which keeps me totally poised and takes care of all my little faux pas!), well I walked into my room. I sat for a while along with the few students who were around, not letting on that I was their prof.! That felt deliciously mischievous (You see, I just couldn't delete the naughtiness in me). Imagine the shock when I stood behind the table. Ah! You should've seen it.
Well, as I stood there looking at my own class, I discerned the confident ones and the not so confident ones, who were trying to sink into the corner and hide. So the first thing I did was to pull all of them to the forefront by setting the chairs in a semi-circle.
We started off...Students slowly trickled in....after about 15 minutes a tall chap walked in and quietly moved into the side seat. While I talked, I looked at him (He didn't realize that I was observing him)...He was looking at the gals in the class and mentally ticking them off for future dates. Later, when I told him that I saw through his game, boy, was he shocked! Ha ha ha.
There was this little boy, that I must mention, forget his name though. Well, he was there, evidently because his parents had coerced him into it, and the poor fellow for the life of him could not evince any interest in the happenings in the class, except for when there were activities. Well, one day this boy disappeared and didn't come to the class for almost a month. Finally, he turned up and you should've seen his outfit! He looked straight out of Page 3 (the celeb section of The Times of India). New shoes, the latest Adidas, hair gel, and groovy trousers and shirt. I asked him why he hadn't turned up, and he said he had gone to Paris! That was a lovely starter I thought, to break the ice between the boy and me. So after the break, I asked if he had seen "La Tour Eiffel" and " Le Louvre". He looked totally blank. Surprised I tried prodding him to share his experiences, when another student piped in saying "Veena, he went to Parry's (a place in Chennai) and not Paris".
All teachers say that their first class is the best, well I am no different, but I shall add that it was "one" of the best for various reasons, one prime reason being, I learnt quite a lot from my other students too, so, saying this was the best class would be a gross injustice to the others. My class comprised of people of different age groups from different walks of life...from 60 to 15 years, housewives to software professionals, to teachers to students...A very interesting set evidently!
Now I must mention this engineer, Sumit, who was really something! Very very good looking boy and very well mannered too. (I shall not forget the way he'd say " Mon plaisir" everytime someone thanked him, with a light bow and twinkling eyes! (by the way, that was one special thing about my class, in this group, everyone was gorgeous looking, and I was the envy of the entire Alliance, profs would ask me when I'd go on a holiday so that they could replace me)...he he he.
Well, Sumit knew my weakness of forgetting names. I had terrible difficulty in recalling two names, Anusha and Varsha, two girls who to me, looked totally identical. Any change in their place or outfit led to major confusions in my head. One day, Sunit simply told me to remember it this way...Anusha alias AT&T, Anusha, Tall and Thin! To this day, I haven't forgotten my lesson!
(Tobe continued...)

The eating culture

I am sure you are wondering what this blog is all about. All around me I hear people talking about eating right, avoiding this or that, eating something in moderation or not at all. I remember my grand-parents and great grand-parents who lived for more than 90 years and passed away quietly. What was the secret of their health? Well, as far as I can remember, my forefathers never gave up coffee, nor their usual diet. But yes, maybe, as they aged, the quantity they consumed was much lesser and sometimes the body itself rejected certain foods. So I am still wondering!
Let me see if I can find some answer to my question by looking at their lifestyle. They woke up every morning before the crack of dawn, took bath in cold water, whatever the season. My grand-ma slogged away in the kitchen, grandpa and we kids would draw water from downstairs and fill the four drums in the house, apart from all the containers we could find, for the whole day for the 15 odd members staying together and for the beloved plants around our house. Then would come their morning rituals. Reading the newspaper while grandma prepared the tiffin for all of us with some help from her two daughters-in-law, plucking flowers, preparing the various idols, followed by long two-hour poojas, during which not once would my grandpa get up; he would sit totally straight, back erect, subsisting on two more coffees, chanting all the sanskrit mantras loudly in a melodious way. I still remember all of them despite it being ages since I heard it all! After which would follow the distribution of prasad (milk and honey, little tulsi water mixed with a bit of sandalwood paste and either sugar crystals or kismis). Then the ritual of having lunch would start. We always sat on the floor, cross-legged, padmasana style. The place was always prepared for this. After the long slow meal, during which the women folk served the men folk, the clearing up would follow where the women had to double over from the waist to clean the floor. Quite an exercise! We had to eat with our fingers, taking care to use only the right hand, we daren't soil the palm, neither did we dare to waste even a morsel neither to spill anything. Food consisted of rice, vegetable curries, pickles, ghee, papads, stew (or kootu), rasam and curd. We also had one or two seasonal fruits. Afternoons grandparents spent in reading quietly either magazines or other books of interest. Evenings we had snacks with coffee. And this was everyone's meal. And we had innumerable visitors who were always served something to eat and drink. Night, again we had rice with rasam, curry and curd. As my grandpa grew older, the quantity of food he consumed reduced a little bit, but the variety remained. He would walk miles together at the most cycling to certain places. Him going in a bus would've shocked all of us! He was the Chief of the Veterinary College of Hyderabad and refused to travel by the car offered by his hospital! I saw this side of him till his 85th year after which chidings from many prompted him to abandon the cycle.
Makes me wonder for the nth time, why are we fussing so much about food? Tomatoes leading to kidney stones, mangoes producing heat, sugar to diabetes, oil to heart trouble, coconut to cholestrol... Is it the food or something else that is making us unhealthy? The minute we go to a doctor, he doesn't even look at us, just writes out innumerable tests/ medicines all cutting a huge hole in your pocket not to mention your heart, its sinking, of course. Heart trouble eh? I remember recently, a visit to a doctor. He was openly telling his secretary, " he is a corporate patient, so ask him to repeat the tests. Make sure you give him a copy of whole thing, so that he can claim reimbursement".
Is our eating culture that is wrong or .....?