Twilight Musings

Bundle of contradictions...

2011-09-21T18:28:00.002+05:30

Life is such a tragicomedy, such a satire...
Some things cannot be explained, cannot be justified, cannot be understood. It can only transpire and leave the people involved with a totally new perspective and change them forever perhaps. To understand even a bit, one would've to be able to experience at least a layer, at some level, some dimension.
No questions asked, no explanations given. A realm beyond physicality, beyond names and definitions and yet undeniable. Something abstract and yet tangible. A thrust, an awareness, a realisation, coexistence of Realities. Life and thoughts yet again converge, overlap into an ephemeral bubble that is and yet not. And when at last someone pauses to listen, to understand, and is moved, it becomes the Reality that we perceive and connect with. A glimpse of The Infinite through the prism of the finite...

Mirrors don't lie!

2011-07-17T18:53:00.004+05:30

As a little girl, I was happy with what the mirror told me. I had no concept of being ugly and even believed myself to be beautiful. I could preen in front of the mirror for hours, playing with my hair, wearing huge dangly earrings. I had long thick hair falling upto my waist, and tendrils fell around my cheeks. - a la- Shobhana. The world was a happy place.

And then I grew up. I no longer liked what the mirror told me. A too narrow face, hollow cheeks, spectacles, a dracula tooth to boot! The hair was all but gone as a result of hostel life. I did not think I was ugly, but neither was I happy.

Then marriage happened. I woke up a beautiful woman. The mirror was neglected. Kids came. Priorities changed. I was content.

The children were growing. Life was changing. I found time to explore new options- Music, Dance, blogging, new friends, a job, learnt to travel in and around the town on my own ( which I had not ventured to do before), and courted success even on the academic front! I was rediscovering myself at various levels. The mirror was not needed. Compliments received came as a pleasant surprise. I was happy, confident of the person that I had become.

Six months ahead. A few crises in the family. Pain, sorrow, fear, reminders of the transience of life... People started noticing and commenting on visible changes. I had become thinner, my neck was drawn. Biological changes. It felt like I had aged overnight! I became more concerned about the health factor. Once again, I sought the mirror. I noticed the pepper and salt streaked hair, the crows feet and dark circles around the eyes, the laugh lines. Photos taken were deleted with vehemence. Confidence hit the lowest ebb .

The family's reassurances were not enough to bolster self esteem. Compliments on FB were but a temporary solace. I had read somewhere that no one looked as bad as in their voter's identity card nor as good as in their FB profile picture. :-)

I had once resolved that when the time came, I would age gracefully. Not as easy as I had imagined. I believed that I was not too concerned about good looks, just about neatness and presentability may be. .. Obviously I had been deluding myself.

Just a matter of time...shall learn to accept the ravages of nature. :-)

Splash!!

2011-07-14T11:36:00.000+05:30

Two pebbles thrown into the river:

July 13th

Celluloid Poetry

July 14th

Coming Alive

Three shots at once

2011-07-12T19:35:00.002+05:30

July 10th

Straddling two worlds

July 11th

Experience diluted

July 12th

Saffron allure

Coy Maiden

2011-07-09T20:14:00.000+05:30

Coy Maiden

Reaching out...

2011-07-08T22:29:00.003+05:30

Reaching Out...

Where did all the moments go?

2011-07-08T22:16:00.003+05:30

(July 7th)

Where did all the moments go?

Between Y'day and Today

2011-07-06T22:51:00.001+05:30

Between Y'day and Today

Homecoming

2011-07-05T17:54:00.005+05:30

Homecoming

Growing up!

2011-07-04T19:43:00.002+05:30

Growing up

Making Amends

2011-07-03T14:28:00.001+05:30

Making amends

Street Performers

2011-07-02T17:55:00.002+05:30

Street Performers

July Is here!

2011-07-01T14:34:00.003+05:30

The River begins...

The first pebble in the month of July:

Listening

Stone # 61

2011-06-15T19:58:00.002+05:30

Silent Music

Not on Talking terms...

2011-06-09T14:53:00.004+05:30

We are not on talking terms anymore. We don't even run into each other any where. I've no idea where she is. We are not in touch.
When did she stop talking? Or was it that I stopped listening? Or perhaps she did call, and I did not hear her voice above the din? I hadn't even noticed the silence...until today.
Today, somebody asked me about her. I started to say something and stopped short. I had nothing to say, I did not know what to say. Did I leave her behind or did she race ahead?
Coming to think of it, I did have this vague awareness of being alone, of the silence.
Where do I look for her? Even if we do happen to meet again, would we recognise each other, would we able to resume from where we left off?

I miss you Ardra...

Remembering...

2011-05-20T10:40:00.001+05:30

Is it really a year that has passed by? Wasn’t it just the other day? How did we manage to cross this one year? It had felt insurmountable then.

A long drawn year, each day heavier than the last has passed by. Another Ulsavam- Temple festival came by and went. There was the shamiana in the temple precincts, the stage was decorated, the concerts took place, the crowd was there, and we were in the crowd. The awareness of a certain absence loomed large in the consciousness, sometimes feeling like a thick, unwieldy slick and sometimes like waking up with a start from a horrible nightmare.

They’ve named the street where her home stands, after her. The silence, the emptiness, reverberated with her absence. Every unspoken word was laden with memories. Walking through her home, touching the wall, the vessels in her kitchen, the shelves, a forlorn hair clip, one sought her presence in vain.

Picking pebbles

2011-05-17T11:01:00.000+05:30

CUT!

Freedom?

The Blog trail...

2011-05-16T10:13:00.002+05:30

I sometimes drop onto other blogger stops and find myself caught in an enchanting web of slices of life.
Today, I first landed Here , from there, I found myself here and then stumbled into This.

(image courtesy :http://writeanything.files.wordpress.com/2010/11/foot-steps-on-rippled-sand.jpg?w=200&h=300)

Writing Exercise.

2011-05-15T19:32:00.002+05:30

Ever since I joined the 'River of stones' project, and have been attempting to write crisp , compact 3-4 lines on anything that catches my eyes/ ears, thoughts, I suspect that I'm no longer able to churn out long winded sentences. This last sentence has to be the longest in a long time. My last post, I had composed like a poem and then I simply deleted the spaces in between and tweaked it a bit here and there to make it prose! I've forgotten how to weave words into prosaic sentences. Every thought now comes abridged , whether it qualifies to be labelled poetry is another matter.

This post is actually an exercise to see if I'm still able to coin sentences.

Scouring for stones...

2011-05-14T21:22:00.001+05:30

Had been on vacation to a hamlet in Kerala- South India. Its a beautiful place with greenery, birds, insects, even slithery reptiles- nature in all its splendour.

I was thinking, that once I came here, there would be stones and rocks all around just waiting to be picked.

I stepped into the garden, pen and paper in hand,senses on high alert waiting for the elusive stone. Nature was romping about in all its glory, birds twittered, devotional songs wafted down from the neighbouring temple

and still no stone, not even gravel met my roving eye.

My son came by, gave me a long, hard look. He stepped out, fished out a nice, round, shiny pebble from the ground, handed it over to me. "Here's your stone for the day", he chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief!

New stones...

2011-05-14T19:13:00.003+05:30

at Pebble trove

Stones 54,
  55,
  56,
  57,
58

It can happen...

2011-04-10T14:45:00.000+05:30

A difference has been made...

Stones # 50,# 51, # 52, # 53

2011-03-30T21:10:00.001+05:30

Stone # 50- Brimming Over

Stone # 51- Viscous Time

Stone # 52- Lonely Journey

Stone # 53- Dead End

Visit to an Old Age Home

2011-03-29T18:32:00.000+05:30

As we stepped into the next dormitory , a whiff of medley smells assailed our senses. Eager faces searched us expectantly. Their eyes were vacant pools of desolation. I had this sudden urge to run away, far away from that abyss of wretchedness but I stay put. My lips quivered with stifled sobs and I struggled to keep my smile intact.

A recent inmate asked us where we were from and her eyes lighted up to hear the name of her hometown. She told us about her only son, of her husband who passed away recently, of festivals celebrated, of the street where her home was located. Another woman informed us that her son would come to fetch her soon ...

They had blessings on their lips, their shriveled hands reached out to touch us- we from another world to which they once belonged.
Silence loomed large on our way back home.

Stones # 46, # 47, # 48, # 49

2011-03-29T18:09:00.003+05:30

Stone # 46: Pandemonium

Stone # 47: Trapped

Stone # 48: Gift Unwrapped

Stone # 49: Kaleidoscope

The Pebble Trove

2011-03-27T14:33:00.003+05:30

I've stashed up all my stones for The River of Stones project collected since Jan 29th through the months of Feb and March in one place:

The Pebble Trove

I'm hoping to participate in the July challenge of The River

Stupor

2011-03-25T19:28:00.003+05:30

Sitting, waiting, watching
another time, another place
Unbelievable, Unreal...

(pic courtesy: http://inkindle.files.wordpress.com/2010/08/waiting.jpg?w=300&h=183)

Reverberations...

2011-03-20T22:07:00.005+05:30

some words,uttered before,
listened to,responded to,
then set aside...
the ripples remain after
the moment is long gone
and the hangover lingers...

(image courtesy: http://www.itsbeach.com/circles.jpg)

Unavowed...

2011-03-18T22:56:00.001+05:30

Scattered thoughts, baffled feelings
Was it really so long ago
seemed like just yesterday
Nothings's changed?

(image courtesy: http://blogs.sun.com/factotum/resource/confusion.jpg)

Survival

2011-03-17T15:09:00.000+05:30

Precious voices
Beyond seas
Across continents
sustenance ensured

(image courtesy: http://www.whatistruth.info/blessings332.jpg)

Fury Incarnate

2011-03-12T23:10:00.000+05:30

The earth moved,
the ocean in a frenzy,
surged forth to swallow land
A nation ravaged...

Metal in Bloom

2011-03-11T18:46:00.000+05:30

Metal in Bloom

Round and round the electric wires
leaves, buds and flowers sprouted!

(pic courtesy: http://www.holoweb.net/~liam/pictures/2007-04-raleigh/pages/img_1813/img_1813-333x500.jpg)

Fine Tuning

2011-03-10T15:52:00.000+05:30

Fine tuning

Tuning in and tuning out
the static grating on the ears
And then at a precise frequency
clear as a bell!

So are you the Exemplary Woman?

2011-03-08T15:00:00.003+05:30

Do I fit the bill?

No thanks...

I'm loving the brouhaha here, here,( I loved the title too- I want to adopt the slogan), and elsewhere

Nimble feet

2011-03-08T10:21:00.002+05:30

Nimble feet

The striped squirrel sprinted sprightly
dodging the jagged glass edges
of the compound wall.

(image pic courtesy:http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ryo2ba3XQGM/S7p1jPdzjHI/AAAAAAAACHE/Iklv3ePeEwI/s400/DEL+Apr10+3-striped+Squirrel+01.jpg)

Salangai Oli

2011-03-07T18:58:00.007+05:30

Salangai Oli
( Rapture, Blessings )

Quivering bells on
poised feet
waiting in the wings
for the music to begin...

(image courtesy: http://www.indian-instruments.com/percussion/images/bharatnatyam_ghungroos_k4.jpg)

Peek-a-boo

2011-03-07T18:17:00.004+05:30

Peek-a-boo

The evening sun peering through the
gossamer strands of the cobweb drapery

(image courtesy:http://farm1.static.flickr.com/131/328397259_9c64045e96.jpg)

Once upon a time...

2011-03-05T11:32:00.000+05:30

Once Upon a Time...

Lines creasing the face
sparse greys adorning the pate
knees bent, unsteady gait
teeth stained and broken
Eyes misty in past glory...

Looking at the larger picture

2011-03-03T16:55:00.001+05:30

Looking at the larger picture- Mar 3rd

Zoom in and you get enmeshed in
the intricate warps , wefts and hues
Stand afar and the image emerges with clarity!

(image courtesy: http://www.absoluterugs.com/pics-rugs/tapestry-antique/antique-wall-tapestry-28064.jpg)

If Only

2011-03-03T08:24:00.005+05:30

If Only- Mar 2nd

For a glimpse of Lost Souls in
The star spangled sapphire silk
stretching endlessly...

(image courtesy: http://images2.layoutsparks.com/1/125279/fairy-starry-night-sky.gif)

Reflected Glory ( Stone # 32)

2011-03-01T18:45:00.002+05:30

Reflected Glory- Mar 1st

On the wall, behind the cloth rack, was a round slice of golden light!
The mirror on the opposite wall shimmered in reflected Glory!

Tongue tantaliser ( Stone # 31)

2011-03-01T09:45:00.002+05:30

Tongue tantaliser- Feb 28th

the savoury was first crushed,
sprayed with sizzling chickpea gravy
topped with green, brown and red sauces
garnished with finely chopped tomatoes,onions,
sev and coriander sprigs...

(image courtesy:http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jBBWyKGaBGQ/TCGib704JHI/AAAAAAAAAeA/v7-xhT-Vt6Y/s400/Samosa+Chaat+Ingredients.gif)

Homeward bound ( Stone # 30)

2011-02-27T22:38:00.001+05:30

Homeward bound- Feb 27th

Flapping wings, their paths intersecting,
they bound home wards,
far into the Twilight Orange mist...

(image courtesy:http://www.hopnews.com/geese_sunset.jpg)

Magic of Sewing (Stone # 29)

2011-02-27T18:05:00.003+05:30

Magic of Sewing- Feb 26th

Fabric, thread, needle
Measuring, drawing,cutting, sewing
Hand on wheel,
feet on treadle
from whole to bits and then whole again...

(image courtesy: http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__dYl_D_5yX8/TBY28W20PsI/AAAAAAAAAeI/kYsu8bnTbc0/s1600/At_the_sewing_machine-765932_49105755.jpg)

Scaffolding (Stone # 28)

2011-02-27T00:15:00.004+05:30

Scaffolding- Feb 25th

Today under the blazing sun
with cement and dust all around,
some romping about, between wobbly planks and thin air
and some perched precariously between land and the skies...
to create inviolable fenced in spaces
for strangers Tomorrow...

(image courtesy: http://www.aluminiumscaffold.net/wp-content/themes/thesis_17/custom/rotator/scaffolding%20header.jpg)

In the classroom ( Stone # 27)

2011-02-24T18:32:00.004+05:30

In the classroom- Feb 24th

Edifying synergy, Ebullient creativity

Vivacious voices, tethered down by timidity

waiting for that gentle nudge of encouragement and succour

to surge forth in abandon...

(picture courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/2008/11/25/images/2008112557730201.jpg)

Playing Truant? (Stone# 26)

2011-02-23T17:22:00.001+05:30

Playing Truant? -Feb 23rd

Yesterday the sun was blazing,today nowhere to be seen
the wind is blowing chill,the clouds have rallied
will it rain or won't it?

(image courtesy-http://farm1.static.flickr.com/130/375518699_bf2d7ea0df.jpg)

Chock-a-block ( Stone # 25)

2011-02-22T16:49:00.001+05:30

Chock-a-block- Feb 22nd

The yellow and black giant bug
bursting at the seams
with its precious cargo
tottered into the precincts
chuckles and screams heard from afar
one by one they spilled onto the outside...

(picture courtesy:http://www.hindu.com/2008/06/14/images/2008061461320301.jpg)

Tidal wave (Stone # 24)

2011-02-21T12:11:00.002+05:30

Tidal wave- Feb 21st

some days the waters are still, no ripples , placid and calm
easy to watch from the shore
some days there are small ripples, causing hardly any flutter
easy to remain ashore watching

and then there are those days

its windy, there are eddies

swirling and turbulent

and now sucked into the vortex

struggling to stay afloat...

(pictures courtesy: http://cdn.webecoist.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/Moskstraumen.jpg

http://cdn.webecoist.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/Naruto.jpg)

Illusion (Stone # 23)

2011-02-20T18:23:00.003+05:30

Illusion -Feb 20th

During some random moment
My vacant gaze falls upon the mosaic tiles
shapes and colours emerge swimming languidly
creating a splattered collage...

(photo courtesy:http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pz8eid7Sg_Q/S3cn5gk8xxI/AAAAAAAAALM/9-oJpYqzA4Q/s400/pompeii+mosaic+tile+floor.JPG)

The Train ( Stone # 22)

2011-02-19T14:09:00.006+05:30

The Train- Feb 19th

The rumbling gets nearer
There is a slight tremor
A fleeting vision of windows,doors and faces
Yet another cargo of humanity
racing to reach somewhere...

( picture courtesy: http://i.ytimg.com/vi/Uae-pHpqdaQ/0.jpg)

Yesterday's ( Feb 18th) Stone # 21

2011-02-19T14:01:00.005+05:30

Lull - Feb 18th

The night is still
The trees and leaves are still
Even the air is still
Has somebody pressed the Pause button of Life?

Reach of the Sun Blades (Stone # 20)

2011-02-17T15:25:00.002+05:30

Reach of the Sun Blades - Feb 17th

Blades of sunshine
searing through the coconut fronds
in the distant grove...
scorching the doorstep...

( photo courtesy : http://coastcaribbeanimages.com/photographs/473/disp_473.jpg)

Whats Brewing! (Stone # 19)

2011-02-16T16:03:00.002+05:30

Whats Brewing!- Feb 16th

The spatula slicing through the splattering stew

a pinch of this, a dash of that...

simmering low

the aroma just right

not too pungent, not too bland...

Strangers (Stone # 18)

2011-02-15T17:24:00.004+05:30

Strangers- Feb 15th

For a brief slice of time
Two people share the same space
No glances exchanged
No words uttered
The bus comes
And they part forever...

Had to share...

2011-02-14T18:01:00.002+05:30

This

Seeking Warmth ( Stone # 17)

2011-02-14T15:42:00.002+05:30

Seeking Warmth- Feb 14th

The sun tracing geometric patterns
on the floor through the lattice of the windows...
making it just a tad bit warmer...

(photo courtesy : original copyright :http://admin2.clikpic.com/stevepcox/images/window_shadow01jpg.jpg)

Experiencing Entertainment Theatre...

2011-02-14T14:32:00.010+05:30

Yesterday, after a long time, I experienced Theatre once again. The last time was several years ago in Bombay when I was a child.

Our Womens' Forum, ( The Aura-) of which I'm a member, conducts monthly workshops and speaker meetings for the members dealing with various themes. Apart from these, we also have a few public events.

So this February it was Theatre that was brought to the temple town of Trichy. A contemporary English play- ‘Five Point Someone’ (based on the novel by the same name by Chetan Bhagat), by the popular and well-established theatre company –EVAM, from Chennai, . They are a professional group who conduct workshops in theatre, produce plays that has entertained millions of theatre buffs all over the world and who offer workspace for those who love to work in this genre of art.

I was looking forward to the event and was predisposed to enjoy whatever was offered. I had of course read the book, seen the movie, but more than that it was the prospect of experiencing live theatre that was exciting.
The experience was pretty rewarding and I liked the treatment and presentation of the play. Stage paraphernalia was minimal, uncluttered and yet effective. The actors were excellent. About the story, much has been said and I've nothing to add. However, if I had to nitpick, it would be about the audibility over the microphones of a couple of the actors which was soon rectified.

After the play was over, the entire cast and crew introduced themselves to the audience in a very endearing and informal manner. The team of unpretentious youngsters, their enthusiasm and spontaneity was charming and infectious. Evam's mission is to entertain and to de-stress and that they accomplish effortlessly! We came away entertained and smiling.

Wishing them success and accolades in their mission to make the world Happier!

Updated to add : http://www.hindu.com/2011/02/17/stories/2011021761880200.htm

All that remains ( Stone # 16)

2011-02-13T13:56:00.004+05:30

All that remains- Feb 13th

Memories trapped in the mind
Tears trapped in the eyes
Sobs choked in the throat...

Image trapped in a frame!

Aflame (Stone # 15)

2011-02-12T15:28:00.004+05:30

Aflame - Feb 12th

Crackling sounds
Blinding smoke
Licking flames
Burning leaves...

(image courtesy: http://www.deforestationaroundtheworld.com/uploads/5/7/2/3/5723602/1293683.jpg?390)

Blessed Oblivion (Stone # 14)

2011-02-11T18:33:00.001+05:30

Blessed Oblivion- Feb 11th

Under the skies, below the over bridge
covered by a tattered sheet, feet sticking out
flies hovering...
blissfully asleep.

Deluding oneself...

2011-02-10T23:02:00.000+05:30

( This post is not a part of the river of stones project)

When I meet people who knew her, who talk about her...I feel happy. I like to talk about her, to listen about her...then I feel she is still around...will we ever get used to her not being there? Do I want to in the first place?
Today met a couple who knew her, who liked her, who had such good things to say about her...

The Day After (Stone # 13)

2011-02-10T14:07:00.001+05:30

The Day After-Feb 10th

The wedding is over

The Day after is also gone

The bride has left

All that remains is the withered festoon

and some scattered rice and turmeric on the floor...

(Right from the beginning of the project we've been encouraging you to really look, and listen and so on and record what you discover. The best of the stones are ones that put us straight in touch with the world, often in a fresh way. In the best small stones, the writer is almost invisible.

In a good poem the poet disappears. That's what the struggle with language is all about. The point is that in the finished poem you don't lay yourself bare.

Reading the above, I stopped short! I went back to look at my stones...and there in almost every single stone, 'I' loomed large! It was all about me...I was hardly 'invisible'. My writing has always been about laying myself bare!! Where do I conceal myself as I look, listen and perceive? Interesting, challenging...)

Aliment ( Stone # 12)

2011-02-09T13:49:00.003+05:30

Aliment - Feb 9th

She had her child on her lap, chattering to her about birds and trees,
distracting her, so that another mouthful is swallowed...

( image courtesy: http://www.exoticindiaart.com/oils/mother_yasoda_feeding_butter_to_kanhaiya_or78.jpg)

Stumped (Stone # 11)

2011-02-08T19:56:00.000+05:30

Stumped- Feb 8th

The whiteness of the page
taunting me with its emptiness
I strive to colour it with
letters, words, phrases
The page is no longer empty for sure,
But now its shallowness
persists on mocking me...

Fragility Of Humour (Stone # 10)

2011-02-07T18:34:00.000+05:30

Fragility Of Humor- Feb 7th

Grains of irritation
Grating the mind
Patience wearing thin
Edges getting frayed
leaving the visage threadbare

Bonded/Bound? (Stone # 9)

2011-02-07T15:27:00.002+05:30

Bonded/Bound?- Feb 6th

The bride looked visibly nervous clutching somebody's arm .
All eyes were on her, everyone eager to see how she looked, what she wore...
The ceremonies progressed solemnly.
The priest said that today was a Blessed occasion,
Because here was a bond being forged with family sanction!?
May the couple be happy together
The veterans smiled wearily...
The feast was delicious
For now, that's enough.

( image courtesy: http://www.newdelhirestaurant.com/images/wedding_hands.jpg)

Growing up (Stone # 8)

2011-02-05T22:22:00.003+05:30

Growing up- Feb 5th
He leaned up from the seat in front
looking at us unabashedly
Ah! the pleasures of childhood innocence!
Soon he'll learn to mask his curiosity...
And learn to look through veiled glances...

Timely Awakening (Stone # 7)

2011-02-04T17:28:00.001+05:30

Timely Awakening- Feb 4th

The breeze lashed harshly
On came the ear plugs
The song in the bus was now a pleasant muffle.
The eyes drooping, The head nodding, The lips half open
Welcome daze...
Suddenly startled awake!
Time to alight!

Fever Ravaged Face (Stone # 6)

2011-02-03T13:08:00.004+05:30

Fever Ravaged Face- Feb 3rd

Her sunken cheeks
flushed an angry red
burning with fever
Her swollen eyes
struggled to flicker open...

The Silver line (Stone # 5)

2011-02-02T22:33:00.005+05:30

The Silver line- Feb 2nd

The mercury crawls up the
tube along the calibrated walls
of the glass thermometer...
I await judgement...

Stones #2, #3, #4

2011-02-01T20:10:00.002+05:30

January 30 Stone #2

Flitting glances

I remember to look again, my hands stop in mid air
as I set aside the vessels...I look outside the kitchen window.
The setting sun shedding its glistening rays through the trees.
A gecko crawling against the wall, its tail a grotesque lump,
this unfortunate lizard has been giving me company
in the kitchen for many months now.
I've often wondered why its tail never grew back.
Or perhaps it did, just that it grew into this shapeless lump?
I was looking at one thing but this gecko distracted me...

January 31 Stone # 3

Blood and Gore

Two spots of blood on the wall!
Two spots of blood on the wall of the room- in the hospital.
She is sprawled on the bed next to the wall.
She has not seen the blood spots on the wall.
I keep looking at the spots.
I feel uneasy.
I find myself thinking about the story
behind the blood spots...

February 1st. Stone # 4

Looking or Seeing?

Paying attention to One Thing?
I look at one thing,
a hundred thoughts come traipsing in
through the window of my eyes into my mind.
I begin at one point an end up elsewhere.
Sometimes the eyes, they perform
the biological function of looking
but seeing happens with my mind,
and sometimes the thought falls
deeper into the soul.
The thoughts get stirred in words and language
and the clamour of mute voices silence the world outside.
Then they die an unknown death
without having sought to be expressed ...
I keep looking without seeing...

Sounds of Silence (Stone# 1)

2011-01-29T16:59:00.004+05:30

The hum of the PC, the sound of chirping birds,
the whisper of the wind against the trees,
The rustle of the pages
as my son turned the pages of his book,
the thump of footsteps from the floor above,
the clamour of happy kids outside,
A door being slammed shut somewhere...

And I was thinking it was so silent in here!!

was led to this A River Of Stones from
here

Legend of The Thiruvathira...

2010-12-22T11:14:00.003+05:30

As I was mulling over this, I stumbled upon an easier way:

http://p-g-r-nair.sulekha.com/blog/post/2010/12/thiruvathira-thoughts.htm

Thank you PGR!

( an old blog of mine: http://ardramaamsandhyakal.blogspot.com/2006/01/ardra-darshanam.html )

Nalacharitham in Kathakali

2010-12-17T11:29:00.007+05:30

Today, I found my way to Charukesi's blog : http://indsight.org/blog/2009/10/23/a-story-in-dance/

I was reminded of the time I had posted the story of Nala Damayanthi as presented in Kathakali long ago on sulekha blogs. It took me some time to hunt those pages, and then I thought why not repost them here. And so here it is:

http://dabbling.blogspot.com/2010/12/nalacharitham-in-kathakali.html

The Magic of Mumbai

2010-11-17T11:21:00.000+05:30

(First of all let me say that Mumbai to me is always Bombay, but I wrote Mumbai in the title simply because it alliterates with Magic! )

Long long ago, I belonged to Bombay and Bombay belonged to me. We left Bombay in ' 77, but the sense of belonging remains. Whenever I've visited Bombay afterwards, I realised that I still relate to the city as mine. However to the current generation I might seem like an outsider or at the most a mere visitor.

I've also felt that when Bombayites- when they meet outside Mumbai- the sense of bonding they display makes the rest of the junta feel alienated. Don't know if all this is just a distorted perception of an over working mind.

However, I must admit that I'm not sure if I would be able to match the pace of Mumbai living anymore.

My memories of Bombay is remote but distinct- during the 70's- our Building society, our neighbours from all states, our celebrations of Diwali, Holi, Ganesh Chaturthi, Janmashtami. The VT station, the little shop which sold Amar Chithra Kathas for just 2 Rs!

Our flat was situated in some interior area of Ghatkopar, and I remember taxi walas would hesitate to ply to our place. The road from the highway, to our building was kuchha and on either side were jhoppadpattis/ slums. People would be attending to calls of nature on the roadside, and the stink was awful. Once I reached the beginning of this road, I would refuse to budge an inch and Achhan was compelled to carry me all the way home! However, there was a private road which by passed the dirty kuchha one, and we usually opted for this one.

Those were the days of the Indo-Pak war, and Achhan (father), had covered all the windows with brown paper. An eerie siren would bellow at random times ( I can still remember the wail of the siren) and then whether at school or at home, we had to plug our ears with cotton and crouch under tables/ chairs. I was too young to be afraid, and rather enjoyed the adventure. At night, we were not supposed to switch on the lights, but everyone would go up on the terrace to watch the spectacle in the skies! It was great fun for us kids.

Those were the days when ‘Chitrahaar’ used to be ‘Chaayageet’, Tabassum’s ‘Phool Khile hain Gulshan Gulshan’- the first of the star rendezvous…Paintal’s “Laddusingh Taxi wallah”, Santa kukdi, Amchi maati, Amchi maanas…

Initially I would go to my neighbour's home to watch T.V and later when we bought a T.V set, I remember how we kept our doors wide open during Prime time and how proud I felt when others trooped in to watch Doordarshan at our place!

All said and done there is a certain magic of Bombay that makes me a trifle envious of Bombayites...I guess You can never take Bombay away from you, even if Bombay is taken away from you. :-)

(The above words began as a comment on Janani's post but morphed into a blog post!)

On the other side...

2010-07-23T14:26:00.002+05:30

On the other side

Tangle of Thoughts

2010-07-15T13:38:00.003+05:30

Coming to terms with reality… what an ambiguous plateau that is for sure! Neither here nor there. There seems to be merely a diaphanous margin between the perceived and the imperceptible. Some random moment in time impinges upon the consciousness as real and yet its not so. What is not perceived is not truth? One wants to desperately turn back time, position oneself at a specific point of reference , tweak with the yarns in the past, forge changes into the tapestry of the present. One is perplexed that it can’t be done?

That which was full of vivacity, that which pulsated with vibrancy is now still, mute- not even there? Can’t comprehend…

That with which one connected with the mind, the thoughts , feelings and emotions came to a naught because some organs stopped functioning? When one laughs, cries, loves a being, where does the lungs, liver and kidneys come into the picture? Where do those intangible things that one related to disappear to? What does one do when there is this unsurmountable need to call for, listen to and touch that which is no longer there? The memory of the voice is dissipating…but the density of the feelings linger…gets heavier with the passing moment and threatens to crush the self. The need to crystallize the memories is so intense that it hurts. Where does it hurt? Some place that cannot be seen, heard or touched…

Musical Nostalgia...

2010-03-30T12:39:00.012+05:30

This post is inspired by Mad Momma’s post.

During the late 70’s- 80’s, I used to live with my parents in Dubai. They used to broadcast Hindi movies on TV on Wednesday nights I think. In the beginning, we used to go to sleep and then wake up in time for the movie because it began late into the night. We used to valiantly stay up to watch unheard of movies. On Wednesday nights it was in Dubai channel, on Friday afternoons- Abudhabi.

Later on when we bought a video player, we used to set the timer to record the late night movie and then watch it during the day with the added luxury of fast forwarding the commercials. Amma used to record songs that she liked from these movies,in audio cassettes. Needless to say, many of those songs linger in my memory and I still have some of those cassettes with me though the audio quality is not too good any more.

After reading MM’s blog today, I was reminded of those songs and I googled for them on the net. I had a tough time tracing a few of these, because most of them I could remember only the tune and some random lines from the middle of the song. I had no inkling of the movie name and for some I could only recollect the actor's or actress's name!

1.I don’t remember much of the movie,just that it starred Rakhee, Rajendra Kumar. I found the melody endearing. Been a long time since I heard it.

Tum mere ho mere siva kisi ki nahin khaati hun kasam- Aan Baan- ’72

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQBKEBHjVC8

2.This song, I can still see Reena Roy in my mind’s eye…but I had forgotten it was Badaltey Rishtey.

mere saasonko jo mehka rahi hai- Badaltey Rishtey- '78

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zYEKmiyfoRc&feature=related

3.This one they showed it umpteen times on TV and each time I watched it faithfully- all for Shashi Kapoor. However I don’t remember the storyline at all. When I saw Shashi Kapoor on T.V recently I broke down.

Fakira chal chala chal- Fakira '76

http://www.smashits.com/music/hindi-movie/play/songs/4040/Fakira/35215/Fakira-Chal-Chala-Chal.html

4.A favourite movie of mine. I love Jaya and in this movie I liked Jeetendra also. I love everything about this movie. This particular song, because my mother recorded it from the movie, Sanjeev is singing on the balcony- in between he is interrupted by his father- Pran , and Sanjeev Kumar utters ‘Babuji’ in his half choked voice…I can still hear it in my mind.

mitwa bole meethe bain- Parichay ‘ 72

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAJ5d04EhkU

link for 2 songs : Musafir hoon yaaron, Mitwa bole meethe bain:

5.This movie, I do not remember much, I think it has Rakesh Roshan, Lakshmi( Julie fame) in the lead roles. Amma had recorded 3-4 songs from the movie.

Aangan ki kali -‘ 79

http://www.in.com/music/aangan-ki-kali/songs-38891.html

6.I remember nothing of this movie- except that Rakesh Roshan is moustache-less and the heroine is Rakhee.

Do baatein pyaar bhari kar loon... Aakhon aakhon main: ‘ 72

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAkBj2s-v1A

7.I liked this movie so much those days that I saw it again and again…I like Pareekshit Sahni.

Tapasya- ‘75

http://ww.smashits.com/music/hindi-film/songs/9315/tapasya.html

8.I was unable to find a link for this song, after much effort I managed to get the name of the movie- I had to trace it from lines that I remembered from the middle of the song. It stars Zareena Wahab, Vikram and Rakesh Roshan.

Jiska man ho prem ka darpan - Raezaada- '76

(ok, I'm daring to do this- just the bit I remember:)

Raeszaada | Upload Music

9.This one, I don’t remember the name of the movie, nor was I able to google it. I just remember that it starred Shatrughan Sinha. I’m not too sure if the following lines is the beginning of the song either- but I remember the tune very well.

Do phool zindagi ke haskar yahaan mile the- sajna yeh woh jagah hai...

Do phool Zindagi ke | Music Upload

Aah, I enjoyed this trek down memory lane…and I’m happy that I’m posting something on my blog page…Thank you MM.

Update: just had to add these haunting melodies from 2 more movies;

10.Palkon ki chhaon mein- '77, starring Hema, Jeetendra (guest appearance), Rajesh Khanna:

Dakiya dak laaya

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izeMxdwraAI

Koi mere maathe ki bindiya sajaa de re...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e--muW3zlQc&feature=related

11. Aayegi zaroor chitthi mere naam ki- Dulhan '74:( Hema, Jeetendra)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOS4o0kmyoM&feature=related

Tell me please...

2010-01-01T14:04:00.006+05:30

Recently, Vallyamma (mother-in law) and my husband went to visit a few friends and relatives whom they had not seen for a long time. One of these, were a geriatric couple who were living on their own in their home in a small town. Of course they had house help without whom they wouldn't have been able to manage. Their children were all scattered in different places though they would visit from time to time.

The husband was 99 years old and the wife was in her early 80's. The husband was relatively hale and hearty while the wife was bedridden and totally alzheimic. Vallyamma and my husband were amazed to see the joviality of the husband ( I shall refer to this couple as U'ettan and k'edthi- as how my mil calls them ).

U'ettan received them with joy and announced to the house-help to cook lunch. He took them inside to meet K'edthi who had been reduced to a mere shadow of her former self. Her gaze was vacant and vallyamma had a tough time controlling her emotions as images of her former energetic times flitted before her eyes. U'ettan on the other hand sat beside his wife, holding her hands, caressing her palms talking to her as if she understood everything. He informed her of who had come to see her, talking continously, caressing her fingers all the time. They had always been a very loving couple and when I heard about their present circumstances, I could not help wondering if he did not miss his wife and companion.

Vallyamma said that U'ettan had no complaints or grievances. He expressed that he had spent a very happy life with his wife and that he was grateful he was healthy enough to look after her at this stage. He mentioned that he had not been able to take care of his mother during her last years and this was how he was making amends. He also said that he would like to leave the world only after his wife went! He consoled vallyamma who seemed visibly upset, that atleast K'edthi was in no pain physically. He said he did not feel lonely and kept himself occupied reading, keeping company to his wife. Every evening he would take the wife for a small ride in the car with the assistance of the house help and the driver. The house help and the driver too took care of the old couple in a most loving and sincere way. U'ettan said that he was lucky to have the help of these good people.

U'ettan used to be a school teacher and he has students in all strata of society who still remember him with gratitude and affection. U'ettan recounted anecdotes from his past which were inspiring and interesting.

Vallyamma and my husband who had entered U'ettan's home with mixed feelings took leave of the patriarch rejuvenated and inspired.

When I heard about this amazing person, his zest for life and the unconditional love for his wife, I wished I had been able to meet him, talk to him... to experience the positivity and liveliness of this grand old man! I would've liked to ask him to share the secret of his enthusiasm for life.

Thought bubbles

2010-01-01T13:37:00.009+05:30

I'm not in the mood to blog at all. Have not been since a long time now. Not that I've not tried to coerce words of my thoughts- because thoughts have continued to rise and fall, but something is missing. Something that doesn't have a name or a definition.

Today, I type words just as is, on to the 'compose blogpost' directly. I try not to ponder, not to wait for the words to emerge. I'm trying to let my fingers do the composing...

Another morning and yet there is a difference. There used to be a time when one used to wait in eager anticipation for the next year. Now, again something is different. There is a sense of misgiving, a vague unrest, fear about passing years. Its not about age, wrinkles or grey hair only. It is about slowly reaching the edge of something which has no beyond. It is about coping with life's uncertainities which are certain to follow. Its a feeling of the ground below slowly slipping away from under your feet- it is about being pushed further on...towards a horizon I know not. It is about unfamiliar sights and sounds and sensations...ahead as well as behind me. It is about forgetting to linger in the present and letting the shadow of the future mar the light of now. In spite of trying to grab new experiences, seeking things to look forward to, still there is a feeling of time running out...there is acceptance and yet there is a question mark. There is a feeling of 'whats the point anyway'? These thoughts are not deliberate- they're uninvited guests whom I do not want to welcome into the threshold of my mind and yet they remain waiting at the door. Even if I slam the door shut, I know they're there on the other side. I can hear them...waiting...

I'm not sad, I'm not gloomy, I try to laugh aloud, but I can hear the hollowness in my laughter. I'm reading, I'm singing, I'm dancing, I'm talking, I'm laughing, I'm loving, and yet...I'm not quite here completely. Every moment , every experience, every thought, exist while reminding me of transience.

An experience of a Lifetime!

2009-07-27T20:29:00.007+05:30

When R and M first mooted the idea that I participate in the coming car rally , I was incredulous and simply said NO. I didn’t even pause to give it a second thought. I could not, I would not. I had no idea what being a participant ( that is other than the driver ) – entailed and I wasn’t even curious. Experimentation, adventure was never me. Sticking to comfortable, familiar terrain – literally and figuratively has been the story of my life.

R asked me again some weeks later when she was giving out the application forms. The ‘NO’ came out easily again. By then I had heard that the non driving participants needed to do ‘navigation’, decipher ‘tulip’ charts, and my Nemesis – Math. M was not one to take a No that easily though. She asked me on Face book, followed it up with sms, and now, I had to find some plausible excuse that would persuade M off my case. I pleaded my poor navigation skills, my Math phobia- she had a solution for all my misgivings. There was no shaking her off. Besides I was touched by her affectionate persuasion.

I was beginning to think on different lines now. Joining this exuberant, friendly NIE team here, two years ago had changed my life in more ways than I had ever imagined. Those who know me from my pre NIE days would be able to understand and appreciate the changes I’m talking about. And so I thought- why not? I called up my other friend C – a veteran rally participant- and she was so enthusiastic about my participation that she convinced me it would be great fun. I got back to M and said that I was game. She assured that it would be a good experience.

I spoke to V ( my husband) and he was totally thrilled about the idea of me participating in the rally. He wasted no time in announcing to any one who cared to hear about the great event- not the rally but his wife’s participation in it.

I called up R, and before I uttered a word, I could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “So A, you’re joining the rally. M has already informed me!” She too reassured me that she’d find me like-minded team members and that was it. There was no turning back.

After Saturday NIE sessions, B took me to her beautiful home, lovingly stuffed me upto my nose with a delicious lunch and after a most relaxing siesta, we set off for the briefing for the rally.At the briefing session, I was awe struck by the sight of so many up beat women of all ages.. I observed the proceedings with much interest.

This is an all women car rally- the TDS rally- Time, Speed, Distance which is NOT a race, as they kept reminding us. Each team comprised of 3 members - the driver, a navigator and a passenger. There were 48 teams in all. We were supposed to cover about 77 kms in 3 hrs, to stick to the alloted speed, strict following of safety rules, remembering to wear seat belts, following the route chart, fill up a time chart and questionnaire en route and most importantly not get lost. The best part was , my partners- the driver and the other person, (whom I was meeting for the first time) seemed to be equally clueless as to what was supposed to happen. But that minor detail did not dampen our spirits. Besides, the person who gave us the briefing did say that, as Novices, if we were unsure about the proceedings, we need not break our heads about the calculations and stuff, just stick to the tulip chart and the speed limit and enjoy the whole experience. That sounded good enough for us.

Next morning, my husband and son accompanied me to the starting point. R and M welcomed me exuberantly and I was happy to be there. My team members soon joined me and there was lots of cheering and Best wishes being thrown around. All the participants wore the T shirt and cap and soon we set off on our respective vehicles with our kit bags.

My team members and I were more concerned about not getting lost than anything else and so we kind of laxed up a bit about doing the Math and stuff. The route was mostly through the outskirts of Trichy- through mud roads, with lots of animal population, villagers looking askance at a caravan of cars crawling through their apology of a road. We managed fairly well initially and felt pretty relaxed and confident. However further down the route, we did get confused. We kept going back and forth searching for a particular deviation in the route but never found it. We ended up missing out an entire stretch and reached back at the starting point first. We were a trifle embarassed at reaching back much ahead of the expected time , but the organizers welcomed us with much applause and asked us if we enjoyed the experience. We were still a bit shaken wondering how much of the route/ how many check point marshals we had missed and so perhaps were not too voluble in our response. We had no inkling about the number of penalties we may have accrued along the way.

We had not won but my friends and relatives made such a fuss about my adventure that I felt like a winner all the way!

( R, M,C and B are my colleagues and dear friends).

Article in The Hindu

Saumya's blog

A Belated Tag...

2009-05-23T10:13:00.007+05:30

Scarlett tagged me .

I’m to share the five things that I love about Motherhood.

Motherhood- a concept of an experience that has been glorified to the point of unattainable saintliness. An image that I have struggled to live by, to reach up to, to achieve. An ongoing journey filled with joys and travails, where I keep stumbling, picking myself up, brushing the dust off me, where sometimes the wounds do heal but the scar remains . Yet, I’ve to keep on going till my last breath- once a mother- always a mother. However, whether it be the beautiful memories or the painful ones, Motherhood is cherished like a Blessing. Every day, every moment , a new petal unfolds among the thorns. The fragrance remains…

The vestiges of motherhood was always there, intrinsic, ingrained into my soul- from the first moment I picked up my first doll:

"You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling.
You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with
clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made the unmade
you then. ( ‘The Beginning' - Tagore)

Motherhood is a part of my essence, my foremost priority- a constant awareness which reflects in every thought, action, feeling. Like my mother says, my brother and me feels like an extension of her mind, body, soul…

Motherhood is that part of me over which I have little control. It is like I’ve climbed the roller coaster and cannot get off. Sometimes it scares me, sometimes it thrills me, sometimes I squeal with joy, sometimes I howl in agony.

Motherhood means Unconditional Love? Do I understand this word? I’m not too sure. Loving with absolutely no expectations? May be not in tangible terms but I think there is a lot of expectation in terms of emotions, feelings…

Motherhood means, confusions, dilemmas, anxieties .

Motherhood means wanting desperately to do right by your children, not ever going wrong at any cost.

Motherhood means wanting to be fair at all times.

Motherhood means worrying endlessly about seeming biased, being biased.

Motherhood means being paranoid about having caused hurt inadvertently.

Motherhood means aspiring to rise above being a mere human with flaws and frailties and achieving saintliness in being able to wipe clean from memory all bitterness, hurt and pain.

Motherhood means the regular guilt trips , constantly judging oneself , torturing oneself about having felt certain emotions which are not associated with Motherhood at certain moments.

Motherhood means being able to identify situations when to invisible and unheard, and when to be there with no questions asked, no ‘I told you so’s’.

Motherhood means being unable to hear others speak unfavourably about your child.

Motherhood means glowing with pride at the achievement of one child and aching for the other one at the same time worried whether he will feel insecure.

Motherhood means remembering the absent child every moment, especially when you make his favourite dish, watch his favourite movie, hear his favourite song, and most painfully when you hug the other child.

Motherhood means wanting, willing, praying for The Best for your child in spite of anything and everything.

Motherhood means, watching, waiting, Learning...and accepting.

Motherhood is one long, unending Prayer.

Motherhood means forgetting to count…

Some Special Bonds...

2009-03-09T10:20:00.006+05:30

Talking only about appachhan feels incomplete.

My earliest memories of my ammamma (maternal grandmother ) is that of cuddling by her side in the darkness pleading for a story. She tells me that I never tired of hearing about Prahlada. Another memory is of a long winding rhyme about a fly who goes around asking different creatures if they knew what its name was. On each visit to a different creature the list of the previously visited animals have to be recited in the correct order before the question is asked. Finally at its last stop , upon being told of its name as “eecha eecha ponneechha”- the fly is so delighted that it laughs to death! But of course the rhyme story does not sound gruesome at all when recounted.

We used to live in Bombay then and I would wait eagerly for our vacation trip to Kottakkal to my grandparents home. Ammamma would’ve kept ready the blouse and mundu ensemble for me to wear when accompanying my appachhan to the temple nearby.

Vacation also included the not so pleasant task of learning the Malayalam script. Schooling in Bombay meant no Malayalam in academics. However it was this routine inculcated by amma’s and ammamma’s insistence that helped me learn to read and write in Malayalam for which I’m immensely grateful today. (And today, we grandchildren faithfully ensure that our children also learn the Malayalam script during the vacations much to the latters’ chagrin.)
Afternoons were not meant to be slept away and it was time for sewing, hand embroidery. Reading was another habit which was gently enforced but that was a delight anyway.

The tri-sandhya neram - twilight hour would be ushered in by – ‘naamam chellal’ -the loud chanting of shlokas by us grandchildren sitting crosslegged in front of the ‘vilakku’- lamp in the puja room. The then youngest would also lisp along the complicated Sanskrit words enthusiastically. Ammamma made me learn a couple of chapters of the “Narayaneeyam” and the “Mookambika sthothram” . She would ask me to write the shlokas down along with the meaning and then chant it until I had it by heart.

Ammamma would write to me in English in the beginning until I learnt to write in Malayalam. Those days of no internet , email and even limited phone access, amma saw to it that I kept in touch with my grandparents and cousins by making me write letters to them.

When I joined college in Kerala, it was to my grandparents’ house that I came down from hostel. Ammamma used to be very protective and took care of all my needs. She would share her life experiences and taught me many things about life and people. She would talk about books, authors, poets. She had met many famous people in her time and she would share snippets from those memories. She maintains that Humility is the most important quality that one should posess. She often reminds us that Vidya- Education should beget Vinayam- Humility.

One of her morning routines included churning buttermilk in a brass ‘kutam’- a pot shining like gold. It was a pleasure to sit by her listening to her sing softly about the exploits of baby Krishna as she churned the buttermilk. She taught me to churn as well in the traditional way.

She tells me that one recurring memory she has of me is that of me as a baby crying out piteously for her from my mother’s arms as the train chugged out of the Tirur railway station when we were returning to Bombay after one vacation.

Some bitter experiences have made her cynical in some aspects and she tends to be skeptical of new fangled modern ways. She can be quite acerbic in her reprimands.

Ammamma has been a very strong influence in our lives . She is well read and keeps abreast of current affairs and has a strong opinion on everything and does not hesitate to express it. She takes good care of her health and follows a disciplined routine. People who know her come to her seeking advice and Blessings. She gets invited to grace and speak at functions in our village. She commands a lot of respect from everybody around her. She does have a somewhat strict countenance which makes some people a little wary about approaching her. However once the ice is broken they realize that it is just a veneer.

After I got married and set up my home she has come to stay with me to help me out many times . First time was when I went back with my first born . The last time she stayed with me for an extended period was in '98. I remember how desolate I felt after she left that time. Nowadays, she doesn’t travel too far due to health issues. I cherish the bond that I feel with her. I feel warm when people remark about how I resemble her in my looks.

( At this point, I stop trying to recollect about my ammamma and impulsively pick up the phone to speak to her. Her voice at the other end gives me a sense of warm reassurance).

Writing Prompt # 4

2009-02-21T12:41:00.004+05:30

Rules: Take 10 minutes to write. Please time yourself. When you have finished writing, please leave a link to your response in the comments box. Have fun!

Prompt: Write about an ordinary, everyday event in your family's life. It could be something that your mother or father did every day - ironing clothes, cutting vegetables, doing puja. Or something one of your siblings did - washing the moped or scooter, perhaps. May be even something that all of you did together regularly.

Talk about regularity or routine and the first person to come to my mind is my Appachhan- my grandfather. He was the kind of person that we might describe as one could set the time by .

He was up at dawn, with the Khaddar mundu tied around his chest and no dentures. He would gaze at the pictures above his bed – that of Lord Dhanwanthari and his Guru. Then followed morning ablutions.

He would emerge after bath with the fragrance of sandalwood lingering in the air. The flowers would have been picked and arranged ( by ammamma or me during the holidays) in the ‘thaalam’ ( plate ) to be taken to the temple. After putting on the cumbersome 'methiyadi’ ( wooden sandals) he would march to the temple. On his return, he would go into the puja room, sit on the wooden platform (aavani palaka ) and chant shlokas aloud in his resounding baritone . Next it was breakfast time, after which followed a kind of ‘Durbar’ session with his friends in the adjoining hall. All kinds of topics- current issues, Sports, Arts, Politics everything would be discussed and there would be laughter too. I hardly understood what was going on but the memories and the ambience lingers with utmost clarity.

He would then change into his Khaddar shirt which kind of reached his knees. It was now time to go to the Nursing Home.

Evenings would see him writing his diary meticulously and neatly. There have been times when others have retrieved records after referring to his diary. His ‘Dinacharya’ was on clockwork mode and we told the time by the sound of his footsteps.

However, there was one thing that did not quite work for him by clockwork- and that was his lunch time. Consultation with his patients made him lose track of time and ammamma would send rice gruel/ soup or Horlicks through the hands of the house help.

More about my Appachhan :

Fragrant Memories

Death- Ultimate Reality

and one by my cousin sister in Malayalam

ഞങ്ങളുടെ അപ്പഛൻ

Sublime Experience

2009-02-12T10:52:00.006+05:30

After reading this, I felt that I had to share my experience of Margazhi Raagam too. I had wanted to do it soon after I watched it but somehow found myself at a loss of words to describe the experience.

When I first heard about the attempt at filming a concert on celluloid, I did not know what to think, what to expect. I thought that perhaps the regular sabha hopping music lovers would not be too enthusiastic about it. However my curiosity had been piqued and anyway, I was an ardent fan of Bombay Jayashree. So when they were screening Margazhi Raagam at our place, I knew I could not miss it.

A friend arranged for the tickets and there I was waiting at the venue eager and expectant. The screening began with no ado and it was a different feeling altogether- I mean – looking at the screen in a theatre waiting for a concert.

The lights dimmed in the theatre and the screen came alive. The backdrop, the aesthetic décor, the lighting, the sound experience - was indeed unique. And though this was not a live performance, I don’t know why it felt like an intense personal experience. Like it was only Music and the listener- everything else was blotted out.

I remember the surprise and delight I felt when how first Jayashree rendered the Khamas serenely, then followed a percussion interlude and finally brought to an unexpected buoyant culmination by T.M. Krishna!

The piece with just the Tampura as accompaniment was out of the world. If I'm guilty of using hyperbole, its only because my experience was such.

While Bombay Jayshree closed her eyes and let Music flow out of her soul-it was like she was having a personal conversation with the Divine and we were the lucky eavesdroppers. And Krishna,he sat there playing with Music - the swaras, the thala like he was on some jocular jaunt...and did not mind us joining him ...

When it was over, I did not want to leave, I wanted a little more… I emerged out of the theatre in a trance...

Confessions

2009-02-12T09:52:00.002+05:30

I saw "Slumdog Millionaire", "Rock On", "Welcome to Sajjanpur".

Dare I say I did not like the first very much?
I liked the kids though- they were too good.
Happy about A.R. Rehman's awards though I've liked some of his other scores better in the past.

The second one reminded me of 'Dil Chahta hai", 'Rang de Basanti' and 'Jhankaar Beats'.
Cute movie.

Loved the last one.

Writing Prompt # 3 Nearest funny Fix

2009-01-20T12:17:00.004+05:30

This is getting really interesting. The third writing prompt is up, this time by altoid.

Before you read the prompt, make sure you will have 10 minutes of uninterrupted time to write and please do time yourself. Once you've written it, please leave a link here so we can come over and read it. Here goes:

Write about who your nearest and surest clown/joke/humour fix is? Who is that one person you can always count on making you laugh, even if you werent looking for one? Is it someone in your immediate family, a close friend, or perhaps its you? You could be your own clown! Alright, go on now-tell us about him/her and maybe leave a number as well so we could dial-a-laugh perhaps, if we need one?

My Husband! He makes me guffaw , actually go ROTFL literally and figuratively. He has this habit of coming up with the most random one liners off the cuff , all the while poker faced. Needless to say I'm in splits and go all blue in the face. His 'jokes'? They can't be defined as jokes by any standards. Just the most absurd, spontaneous comment. So sudden and unexpected that I get the impression he also heard of it only after the words have slipped out of his mouth. His comments have this picturesque quality about them that the moment I hear it , I see it in Zoom video. I’ve always been notorious for my explosive guffaws. I’ve managed to startle myself with my peals of laughter. The moment I start off like a machine gun my husband gets into panic mode trying to ‘shhush’ me into silence. He thinks I might terrorise the neighbourhood. He mumbles "veTi poTTikkaan thuTangi” which means 'there she goes bursting fire crackers'- as if it was entirely my fault. His ‘jokes’ have this habit of replaying itself in my mind in the most awkward moments, and I’ve a tough time trying to control my chortles. I’ve to admit that I can laugh at his ‘jokes’ even when he repeats them!

Writing Prompt # 2

2009-01-13T14:04:00.020+05:30

Now from here

Before you read the prompt, make sure you will have 10 minutes of uninterrupted time to write and please do time yourself. Once you've written it, please leave a link here so we can come over and read it.

Do you have any one moment in your life, when you were totally, madly, utterly embarassed? Was it a situation in which you did something, said something or just happened to find yourself in? If you recall those feelings of wanting to sink through the ground, or suddenly appear invisible....use this prompt to recount them and help us feel your plight.

I am trying to remember the times I've been embarassed- those times when I felt like sinking underground a la- Sitadevi. Doubtless there were many such instances, but somehow now as I try to summon the memories they refuse to resurface; and one of the conditions to be followed in this exercise is not to read other posts in response to the prompt before doing the exercise oneself.

Then voila! I remembered. I was in college. The lecturer was handing over answer papers after the recent exams. I was not too anxious about receiving mine. The moment arrived. The lecturer waved my paper in front of my eyes, gave me a smile that I could not deconstruct and proceeded to give me a lecture on my tardiness. At the end of her tirade she did not forget to comment on my distracted countenance in class. I remember the mortification I felt as I heard her words- I remember her words too- but I still cringe in embarasment and so desist from recording the same. And finally she expressed her amazement at my having managed to score fairly decent marks in the test!

My ten minutes are up-

Revised, revamped, refined:

Her delicate face was in stark contrast to the expression she wore. A forbidding smirk adorned her face perpetually. Her long plait jostled merrily as she walked with the grace of a dancer. Her fingers were long and slender which she wielded artistically as she droned away in the dreary afternoons. Her saris were impeccably starched. She had an arresting, formidable persona.

Miss J marched into our classroom that sultry afternoon, her pout firmly in place...I shifted uneasily in my seat. The sight of the ungainly wad of answer papers in Miss J's clenched fingers did not bode well. My palms turned sweaty and I felt an uncomfortable churning in the pit of my stomach. I tried to assume a nonchalant stance and failed miserably. The lunch I had during recess seemed to swirl threateningly within me. I tried to look steadily at the unpleasant countenance of our beautiful lecturer.

She began calling out our names and distributing the answer sheets. My heart beats thudded in my ears. Then there was this uneasy pause and silence loomed in the classroom. A voice from within warned me, 'this is IT.’

Yes, there she was, staring at me with a piercing gaze. I flinched. My ears burnt. I heard her voice boom,” Aaaaaaaaardraaaaaa…

The rest of her tirade has been thankfully blanked out by my selective memory but the last whiplash of words resound with astounding clarity:

“Instead of wasting your time in appreciating my saris and admiring my nails, you would’ve fared better had you bothered to pay attention to my words. ( Amidst all the indignity being heaped on my wretched self, I distinctly remember being amazed at her perception though ). "Still, I hardly expected you to score even this much. See if you could try to pay at least half attention to the lesson being taken in future.”

I meekly looked up at her to see the most contemptous sneer on her perfectly etched face. I could hear stifled chuckles around me. Many a time had my friends and me discussed animatedly about Miss J’s saris and appearance. But for now, I was the solitary scapegoat.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a nauseating blur.

Writing Prompt #1

2009-01-13T13:43:00.006+05:30

Following this

Before you read the prompt, make sure you will have 10 minutes of uninterrupted time to write and please do time yourself. Once you've written it, please leave a link here so we can come over and read it. Here goes:

Write about a sleepover, a slumber party or the time you stayed somewhere overnight.

Many years ago, as children , my brother and me went over to our friend's home for a sleepover. I think it was our first stay away from home.

We were pretty much excited and so were the brother -sister duo friends. We had dinner with our friends, their parents, I think we watched some movie on video and then it was time to crash.

I just could not go to sleep and my little brother was also wide awake. Our little friends though were fast asleep. We slowly crawled out of the sheets, switched on the lights, took out colouring books and crayons and started colouring in the middle of the night.

Not much later, aunty came in - probably woken up by the light in the room and our muffled whispers. She seemed totally bewildered to see us busy colouring away when we were supposed to sleep! She asked us to keep the books and crayons away and go back to sleep. She tucked us in bed and wished us Goodnight.

I remember sinking into slumber long after...but we had many sleepovers at the same house afterwards and never had trouble going to sleep again.

Update: After reading other posts in response to the prompt, I found mine so drab, tried enhancing it, but there is only this much I can do about it:

We had gone out with our family friends that weekend. We had become more closer and enjoyed the company of our two new friends. A sister and brother just like the two of us. Both of them were much younger to me and I enjoyed being the oldest. We used to go for family outings together and enjoyed these occasions to the hilt. Whenever we had holidays coming up , my brother and me would want to stay over at their place and they would want to stay over at our place. As we returned home from our outings we would be pestering our parents to let us sleep over in either homes.

The first time we had the sleep over, I remember we were so excited. I dont remember much of how we spent our times- most probably playing monopoly, scrabbles, word building, reading, story telling. One other thing that we liked about their place, I remember was their home had a bath tub! I liked aunty's cooking too.

After watching some video, we were asked to go to bed. And then it was that I began feeling strange. The room, the bed, the sheets, the pillow- all so different and strange. Our friends went to bed and after some random chatter went off to sleep. I kept looking up at the ceiling. I remember feeling so utterly bored. I had yet not reached the age of entertaining myself with simply my thoughts. I looked around me in the pale light of the bedroom lamp, and saw our friends sleeping soundly. I don't remember if my brother was lying awake, or I woke him up.
Anyways, we decided to tip toe out of the bed and engage in some activity that would keep us occupied. we knew where the colouring books and crayons were. soon enough, we put on the lights and settled down to some serious colouring as if we had some assignment to complete!

I don't think we got much ahead with our self assigned task, because soon a much bewildered aunty came in. She just could'nt fathom why we felt the need to color at that time of night. If there is one thing that I remember clearly about that night, it is the expression on aunty's face.
She enquired with concern why we were not asleep. We assured her that it was simple boredom and then she asked us to keep aside all colouring - get on with it the next morning and tucked us into bed. She sked us to call her if we needed anything. I just did not want to go to sleep. I wanted to stay awake, and most unwillingly crawled back under the sheets. I don't remember how long I stayed awake.

The next morning, aunty called my mother up and told her about our midnight assignment and they found it rather amusing. We had many more sleepovers after that in the same house and afte that first time, I never needed to go hunting for crayons in the night.

Palliative Care -2 ( Personal Experience)

2008-12-28T08:49:00.005+05:30

The following article is my Uncle’s personal notes about his experiences as a Volunteer- coordinator of Ottappalam Palliative care clinic. Actually it is part of a mail that my uncle mailed me and I’ve retained most of his words as in the mail.

When I heard about it first time:

It was about 4 years back when I had gone to a shop owned by a cousin of mine in Ottapalam, where two young men got introduced to me as hailing from a village nearby Vellinazhi ( Kerala). I did not understand the relevance of palliative care from them either, as some how or other I connected it to trauma units and I had no idea absolutely about the non-medical aspects of the deadly disease Cancer. I had assured them that I would get in touch with them later as I was going out of the country next day. The clinic with which these two young men were associated with, was functioning at Ottapalam itself and still very few people had heard about it.

Two years passed by, during which time, I had settled down in Ottapalam and was taking active interest in the socially beneficial activities of Ottapalam Welfare Trust. OWT was studying the feasibility of setting up a detection / diagnostic unit for cancer at Ottapalam and as a distant dream to set up curative facilities due to the relative large number of people affected by cancer coming to the free clinic we had set up there. On contacting a similar project at Ernakulam, we learnt that they had set up a palliative clinic there, which prompted us to get further details from Calicut Medical College and Institute of Palliative Medicine nearby. On reaching there, we had a first hand exposure to the way in which the outpatient clinic was functioning as also the relevance of such facilities to the society. We were bit surprised to learn that there was a clinic in Ottapalam itself, which is now functioning at Cherplacheri. This was none other than the unit about which the two young men referred to, in the previous para. The unit in the meanwhile had shifted to Cherplacheri from Ottapalam due to lack of public or community participation.

It took not much time afterwards for us at OWT to decide to start a unit in Ottapalam, guided and assisted by the Cherplacheri unit. We started with a once weekly nurses home care unit and started 7 months later a doctor's home care once a week. 8 months later we started outpatient clinic once a week.

What made me join:

The activities of Ottapalam Welfare Trust at that time were confined to such works, where my involvement was required for only an hour or so, just in an advisory capacity. A thought occurred to me; here I am doing nothing very concrete, spending time in reading articles and books and taking part in social activities related to my immediate relatives and neighborhood. I felt this is a field where I can do something, as anything done with a positive attitude would help many and so long as I enjoy reasonably good health I should be doing something like this. The doctors and a volunteer trainer who came from IPM Calicut and Manjeri, to conduct training sessions at Ottapalam, had stressed on one aspect that is at least one trustee of OWT should take active interest in the affairs, as otherwise many factors wouldn't be understood by the management. I decided that I should do it, as I might have only about 5 years before I cross the age of 70, by which time, my movements could get curtailed down. You can say that the prime motive factor in deciding that I should join the movement is my urge to be of help to the society at large, without involving in any politically oriented outfits, as is what is seen in Kerala State.

My experiences:

Two instances will never fade away from my memory.

One is the case of a woman patient, who was 79, suffering from acute stomach cancer and consequent pain, preventing her from taking any solid food. On our first home care visit to the home, we found the patient was wailing all the time, not giving a respite for her daughter for a minute, even going to toilet was impossible for the daughter, whose husband is both deaf and dumb, employed in the Amulya condiment factory near Ottapalam. Her only son's (aged 18) education had to be discontinued after 11th, due to financial constraints and was working in a STD booth nearby. The daughter was in a very distraught condition. The patient's son is working in Indian Army as an officer in Meghalaya and can't come on vacation when he needs to come. Seeing the situation in her home, I asked the nurse accompanying us, whom should we 'treat' now, the patient or her daughter. When we visited the same patient next week, the daughter was in very composed form and was clearing telling us to the effect that 'at last some one understands me". Her neighbors were definitely sympathetic to her, but did not know how and in what way she could be helped. We visited the home at least 6 times later and at all times, the daughter was composed. Ultimately, the patient met her inevitable end, but we had the satisfaction that we could make at least the daughter comfortable in her mother's last days.

Take the case of another 25 year old patient, suffering from paraplegia; damage occurred to the spinal cord due to a tree falling on her body, while she was walking to her home on 30th June '07, from the bus stop after a day's work as a sales girl. It suddenly rained on that day with heavy winds at the time of her return and an old, tall tree fell on her. Luckily (?!) two other people walking behind her noticed the tree falling and rescued her, from underneath the tree. She had tobe confined to her bed for more than 15 months after the initial treatments in hospitals who declared her suffering from damaged backbone and spinal cord. Nothing else could be done to bring her back to normal life. Prior to this unfortunate incident, she was engaged to get married. The prospective bridegroom is still interested in marrying her, in case she is in a position to walk. We at Ottapalam clinic, on hearing her plight started giving her the necessary care, such as changing the catheter tubes, dressing her bed sores etc. Our doctor had in the meanwhile heard of a clinic near Coimbatore who had offered to provide a special physiotherapy to similar patients (with some medical constraints to suit their methodology), in case no bed sores are there. Hence our doctor gave a crash course to the patient to cure her bed sores and later we took her to the clinic. After one and half month's treatment there, the patient was in a position to stand up and take a few steps with the help of a walker. The clinic had charged the patient nothing, as the expenses there are met by a charitable society. We need buy only the gadgets like a specially fitted wheel chair, calipers and walker. A benevolent lady and the local rotary club shared the costs and we could bring her back home after the first course. We have just taken her back to the clinic for the second phase of treatment, as was planned. One should see the relief and smiles we have been able to bring back to the faces of her poor mother and sisters to believe my story.

These two instances along with many other similar cases have proved to me the necessity of providing palliative care, as there is a large scope for such services to society, so long as we are in a position to render to our hapless brothers and sisters. Attitudes can make a lot of difference.

Not so pleasant experiences:

Since this system of home care has not been understood by most of the people, leave alone the close relatives of the patients who get assisted in taking care of them, unpleasant experiences can be understood better only after I describe what we are actually doing in the field.

What we are doing: (Volunteers):
I think I will be doing justice to myself only if I describe now 'what we are trying to do', as then only unpleasant experiences can be understood. You might conclude that what we are supposed to do is bit utopian, considering the enormity of the situation. Each patient has a different background, even if medical records may classify the disease as well as the extent of disease are just the same. Even if the physical conditions are the same, financial situation may be different. Even if financial background is also the same, the mental make up of the patient and his relatives or caretakers can be different. In a nutshell, we the volunteers are trying to offer solace to the patient in all the above spheres and hence each case will need be addressed as a distinctly separate and individualistic manner.

Hence in an ideal case, each patient will need to be taken care of by a single volunteer. It is just impossible to get such large number of volunteers, one for each patient. As per the statistics available for Kerala, each panchayath of population 30 to 35000 will have 50 to 100 patients to be taken care of. To get such large number of volunteers with inclination to do voluntary social work is next to impossible, considering the ground realities (requirement of employment, single unit families, commitments to the family, vocations, individual priorities etc). This makes it essential for those volunteers who are inclined and can afford to do social work to take care of more patients, which itself will reduce the effectiveness of each volunteer, both qualitatively and quantitatively.

Volunteers are expected to visit patients regularly to ensure they take the medicines regularly as prescribed by the doctor, to follow the changes in the patient, (level of pain and other physical conditions), to ensure that the patient's relatives are dressing the wounds due to bed sores, keep a schedule of the dates when the catheter tube is to be changed etc. In most of the case, the medicines will not be of curative type, but those required to limit the discomfiture the patient is facing.

Volunteers are also expected to monitor that the education of children of the patients does not get affected, nor they can get two square meals a day. Since most of the patients and their relatives would have understood that they were in the clutches of a killer disease, moral and psychological support could be the most important sphere, volunteers will need to address.

When a patient is declared as suffering from incurable disease, he could be subject to social isolation, as many of his old friends and relatives won't know how to react and console him. As time passes by, he would be forgotten by the society around him and that feeling itself is adequate to 'kill' man. We had nursed a patient, who wanted company of an understanding person for about an hour daily, as none was going to his house for days together. Volunteers can do a lot in such cases.

Financial assistance will be sought by most of the patients, particularly those who have had to undergo costly treatments like chemotherapy and radiation. Even if the patients belong to well-to-do class, they would have exhausted their resources considerably if they have to undergo these costly treatments, apart from the indirect costs involved. Distributing funds cannot solve the problems unless the clinic has access to unlimited resources which will not be the case at all. Distinguishing between genuine and ingenuine demands will pose another difficult problem. One will not be able to choose between patients as all patients approaching your clinic will need be assisted equitably and uniformly.

Further, social pressures from well meaning relations and friends would force them to spend on ineffective treatments and procedures. The patients and their close relations won't know how to take a practical and correct decision under social pressures. To recall a recent incident, a close relative of one of our volunteers was diagnosed as suffering from cancer which had spread all over the body after getting malignant. The patient had undergone all the three accepted modes of treatment in well known hospitals. Hoping against hopes he succumbed to pressures and had sought treatments from hereditary physicians who had no formal education, involving herbals and other concoctions which are not supported by adequate documentation or research. He was reluctant to keep me in confidence about such treatments as he himself was not convinced about the effectiveness of such treatments. But well meaning relations forced him to meet such quacks as he had lost hopes on the whole case. Even if I had known, I do not think I could have dissuaded him from going in for such treatments, as it will be extremely difficult to answer his question, why not try this method, as other methods have been pronounced ineffective. He was virtually looking for a miracle. (Needless to mention, the patient died within a couple of days at the age of 37, even before the first dose of the quack could be administered. The patient left behind his wife for 8 years and a child aged 4).

The psychological aspects will be the most difficult issues to be dealt with. There will be cases when a patient suffering from acute pain asks you to provide medicines for terminating his life and the pain. A volunteer can not accept such a request both on legal and moral grounds. How does one address such a situation? There is an added risk if the volunteer considers such request even sympathetically. Unless care is taken, the patient would treat the volunteer as his enemy who would like the patient to die, if at all the volunteer offers to assist him, out of sympathy on seeing his suffering.

It is also possible that the patient could get spiritually upset. If he is a believer in god, he might start questioning why he was chosen to suffer by the same god, in whom he had all the faith. Even if the patient is an atheist, he could start doubting whether he had been punished for being an atheist. Factors vary from individual to individual.

It is very essential that volunteers should undergo serious training to be able to handle difficult situations. Common sense alone will not be adequate to handle tricky situations.

While medical assistance is the first one to start with, the same should be followed up with assistance on social, financial, psychological and spiritual aspects. These factors cannot be easily quantified as in the case of medical assistance.

The only way to understand the situation is to take part in home care visits of nurses and volunteers. The actual condition of the patient, in all the above mentioned 5 aspects, can be understood during such visits. If the patient visits a clinic, aspects concerning the ailment only could be understood. This change in understanding can make a qualitative difference in the caliber of the care that can be given.

You might think whether all volunteers will need to do all the above. Not at all. There are so many indirect things one can do, without even seeing a patient. For example, some volunteers may be good in fund collection. They can do it as a part of their other vocations. They need not even visit a patient. But he will need to take part in home care visits initially to understand the gravity of situation, as that would make him more effective in fund collection. The premise of the system is that people of each village or locality should be able to take care of the patients in their locality. One can find the field of his service if he keeps his eyes and mind open, with a positive attitude.

Nurses:

Nurses provide the medical care such as dressing of wounds (bed sores), changing catheter tubes at regular intervals, dispense medicines to combat vomiting, pains, constipation etc., in short keep a track of all medical aspects. Nurse' home care visits are as important as more frequent and regular home visits by volunteers, which provide the basis for nurses' actions under the guidance of doctors.

Doctors:

Considering the limited availability of doctors (who have undergone special training in palliative care), home care visits by doctors are far less than what is required. They will need however visit more critical patients with a view to assess the type of care that could be given, apart from boosting the morale of the patients and their relatives.

Unpleasant experiences:

Since the care is being given to those patients for whom curative treatments have become ineffective, thereby declaring them as terminal patients, death rate will naturally be very high. We are only making the last days of such patients more endurable. Hence there could be many occasions, which might force one to think that we could have done better to serve such patients.

In the preceding paragraphs, I had already mentioned one or two instances which have been very unpleasant for me which left the feeling with me that I have not done what I was supposed to do. The most difficult situation was when one ex-volunteer of our clinic came to my home and started sobbing uncontrollably to inform me that his relative was declared terminal by the specialist hospital which informed the patient that no further treatment was possible and he could now go home. In fact I had information from the case history that, that was the case which I could not inform my friend at the right time. I virtually feared that my friend won't believe me, not that such information at that stage would have made any qualitative difference. The end was very well in sight, but to accept the same, was way beyond the relative.

How to break the bad news (BBN) remains as an enigma for any volunteer of palliative clinic as well as Doctors. Patients and their relatives would believe a doctor more than anybody else and hence the onus of breaking the bad news rests with the doctors more often than the volunteers. Doctors may not be questioned by the patients or their relatives, but volunteers could be questioned and hence they have to be more careful on this issue.

Hurdles:

The first hurdle which comes in the way of extending care is the stigma associated with incurable diseases by the patients and his relatives. Pressures built up by financial and relationship factors complicate the issue. We have come across patients who are marginalized in their homes by his own siblings. Sometimes it will be unbelievable to imagine that people can behave in such cruel and inhuman manner when someone close to them get declared as suffering from incurable disease.

Constraints due to job/employment etc. on the part of the relatives can leave the patients unattended to for days. Since home nursing is not considered as a part of home care now, this adds a constraint to the system, as ensuring proper care at home becomes difficult.

I have come across at least one case in which the marriage proposal for the daughter of a patient got fizzled out when it was known that the father had become terminally ill. People are still ignorant when it comes to certain diseases, which some consider as hereditary.

There was a case reported in which the principal of a college refused a request for blood for a terminally ill patient saying that he can advise his students to donate blood for only those patients who are not terminally ill. Ignorance pervades through educated people as well.

General apathy is another important hurdle we are facing everyday. While everyone lauds the efforts, they expect others to take the initiative due to a variety of factors.

Maintaining level of optimism:

The feeling of gratitude expressed by the relatives of patients in their hour of need and the resulting pleasure of happiness that a helping hand could be given to the needy keep us going in our efforts to be of assistance to poor and needy, in spite of the various odds faced by us.

The author of the above article Mr. M.P. Ravindranathan may be contacted at rvndrn@gmail.com

Palliative Care-1

2008-12-28T08:38:00.005+05:30

Sometime last month I came across an extensive write up about Palliative Care in The Hindu Sunday Supplement . I've always had this concept of Palliative care stuck in my mind when I first heard about it. I think it was when some physicians from Kottakkal were sent for training to Kozhikkode years ago. The point of interest being purely and simply some kind of empathy. As one advances in age, one tends to think of many uncertainities of life and more about being able to handle it with some semblance of serenity and maturity. After reading the article I was reminded of my uncle and aunt who are very much involved in Palliative Care Services in their home town.
I mailed him asking him to send me articles regarding Palliative Care in general and his experiences in particular. He readily obliged and I’m hoping to post his article mostly verbatim with his permission here .

Apart from personal curiosity, I thought that his words might prove to be enlightening and inspiring to many those who are not fully aware of the impact and importance of all that Palliative care entails. I think it to be of increasing relevance in today's society in more ways than one.

What is Palliative care?

Objective of this write up

The objective of this brief write up is to generate awareness about Palliative care to those who had not heard about it. It is not the intention to describe all aspects of the same as it would take considerable time and personal involvement to get to know the various aspects.

How the concept of Palliative care has originated?

Diseases can be classified broadly into two categories, those which are curable and those which are not curable. Curable diseases can be handled by the existing system of medical care, both in public and private sectors. However, the medical services offered by the state and by private hospitals do not take care of patients with incurable diseases, who deserve sympathy and understanding, as they are left to the mercy of the family which often finds it extremely difficult to attend to them. In most of the cases, such patients get bed ridden permanently causing anxiety; feeling of helplessness, financial strains etc., with the stark truth of only death as the only reliever, unsettling their family in all respects. The need for palliative care arises to take care of these “incurable” patients.

Let me start with the background on how the concept of Palliative care had its genesis. The primary reason is the fact that nowadays medical profession has become very much doctor and equipment oriented. No doctor goes to the patients; patients have to go to the doctors or hospitals. And the problem has been compounded due to the fact that treatments have become very equipment based, with lot of medical electronics equipment to be used right from the stage of diagnosis. Without using these equipments which are costly and hence beyond the reach of even very rich patients, who also have to go to hospitals or even clinics, no treatment is performed nowadays. This adds a lot to the strain even to those patients who are not permanently bed ridden. Then one can imagine how much will be the difficulties faced by permanently bed ridden patients who have to be transported to the doctors.

Another reason which has given momentum to this concept is that during the last 30 to 40 years, joint family system has vanished due to a variety of factors and single unit family system has come to stay. While both systems have their advantages and disadvantages, single unit family system has thrown open a peculiar problem where in old parents, who suffer from incurable diseases have been left to the mercy of their siblings who often ignore their own parents, may be due to their own employment or profession, financial constraints or any other social factors, which cannot be justified when viewed from a human angle.

The concept of palliative care was propounded by a well known nurse, Ms Cicily Saunders in UK in 1960. In western countries, the service has been called “HOSPICE”, with specialty hospitals as the centre of action. In India, this service had its beginnings in 1990 in ‘Shanthi Avedhana ashramam’ near Bombay. However a system based on hospitals is not suitable to third world countries like India. In Kerala, the first Palliative care clinic commenced functioning in 1993 in Kozhikode Medical College. When it was noticed that patients from far away placed cannot reach the hospital, localized clinics were conceived. The first clinic with community participation was established in 1993 in Nilambur, Malappuram district. Such clinics turned out to be very popular thanks to community participation, which led to the establishment of Neighborhood Network in Palliative Care (NNPC in short). Now, in Malappuram district alone, there are 25 such clinics. In the other districts of North Kerala, Calicut, Wayanad, Kannujr, Kasargod and Palakkad, such community oriented clinics are very active. There are at present more than 3000 trained volunteers in Malappuram district alone. More than 2000 new patients become the beneficiaries of palliative care, in each year in Malappuram district. Statistics show that more patients require this care and service all over Kerala.

It must also be mentioned here that the Malappuram initiative has become so well known that nurses and volunteers from other third world countries are taking training in Malappuram and Kozhikode clinics.

Who needs palliative care?

One can appreciate that non curable diseases like some types of cancer, damage to backbone and hence to spinal cord, brain damage due to tumors or stoppage of blood circulation, HIV positive patients, geriatric patients, cuts and injuries which do not respond to any medicine, suffering from high intensity pains etc. force many patients to get bed ridden, which disable them to perform even the basic necessities of life. They will need assistance even for taking food or going to toilets etc, which will have to be performed in bed.

In most of these cases, the patient gets declared as suffering from incurable after undergoing difficult, costly and time consuming investigations, treatments necessitating hospitalization for longer periods etc. These break the mental and physical morale of most of the patients and their siblings. Most of these patients break down in the face of the realities of life, when the doctor or hospital advises them that they can now go back to their homes without any further treatment possible.

Even though medical treatment to the citizens is recognized as a responsibility of the state, can one expect attention to patients falling under this category to get solace from the government? Here comes the need for community participation, only with which some relief can be given to these patients.

Problems faced by permanently bed ridden patients

1. Physical problems:

Continuous medication will be required to contain the physical problems. Medication will need to take into account peculiar and individual problems of each patient and conditions of his family. Injuries will need dressing up regularly. Who will do it, as nowadays even trained nurses do not visit homes.

2. Financial problems:

Treatment in hospitals is an expensive affair. By the time the hospital sends back the patients declaring the disease as incurable, the patient and his family would have spent a very large amount by way of direct and indirect expenses. This could even mean starvation and stoppage of education to their children and a host of other problems, thereby virtually breaking the family into doom.

3. Social problems:

Confinement to the bed forces the patient to cut all social contacts, thereby forcing him to withdraw to himself. He has to depend on others for each and everything. This gives rise to a host of problems in his life. He starts feeling that he is an unwanted being in this world and a liability for all, including his close relatives.

4. Psychological problems:

The factors explained in the previous paragraphs leads to psychological problems. One can visualize the problems that will be encountered.

5. Spiritual aspects:

There could be cases where the patient can start thinking on his existence and spiritual aspects coming to the fore, when faced with a realization that there is no cure for his ailment and he is forced to start visualizing his end worrying about the safety and existence of his own family etc.

One can realize that there are no medical remedies to the above problems except possibly the first one. However with the body and psyche so much inter-related the patient and his family find that they are in a no-win situation. Doctors can attend only 20% of the problems faced by the patient. The community can at least try to attend to the rest of the problems.

What can the Community do for such patients ?

In fact there will not be any situation in which nothing can be done to help such patients. There is no limit to the care that can be given to them. What is more important is that the community should have ‘eyes and ears’ and a positive attitude to help such unfortunate patients. Rest will follow.

Members of the community can organize the efforts to provide the care to the needy. Trained volunteers provide the leadership that is required for such efforts. Required funds, medicines, food, cloth etc. are all collected by the community. Outpatient clinics and home care visits are organized by these volunteers, who find out the patients who need such care. They visit the houses of the patients frequently to understand the specific needs of the patients.

Doctors and nurses who have undergone specific training in palliative care provide the medical care that is required. They attend to the patients (who can travel to the out patient clinics) and bystanders / relatives (of patients who cannot travel), who are given the necessary medicines with instructions. Depending on the number of patients, the out patient clinics function on one or two days a week. Home care visits are undertaken by nurses and doctors (depending on the availability) at regular periods to provide the medical help required and to understand the actual conditions of the patient and family.

Since the patients have been declared as incurable, it is practically impossible to cure them completely or alleviate all physical problems. The objective of palliative care is to reduce the problems which can be solved, as much as possible. The objective also includes enabling the patient and relatives to solve their problems as also provide required medicines and other materials and advise them how to use them, besides overseeing whether the care is utilized properly. For example, where dressing of wounds is required, the relative or bystander can be trained in doing the same. Similarly they can be taught how to maintain water beds etc.

Home care - the distinct feature of palliative care

What makes palliative care different from other treatments is the home care. Doctors and nurses provide only the medical care to the physical problems of only those patients who suffer most, as often it is impossible to visit all patients, due to the non availability of trained doctors. Volunteers provide the link with all patients. There are three types of home care, one is home care conducted by doctor and nurse, second is the home care conducted by volunteers under the leadership of trained nurses and third by local volunteers by visiting the homes of the patients.

The three tier home care helps understand the conditions of the patients completely thereby enabling the clinic to provide all care needed by the patient. This helps develop contact with the family which gets self confidence in caring the patient. This also helps the family escape the social aloofness.

The funds required for the efforts are found from small contributions, money collection boxes kept in shops and public places, monthly contributions from public etc. Many village panchayaths or other local govt. institutions such as district panchayaths provide medicines. Assistance or grants from government is not available presently. (the president of Malappuram district Panchayath took part in the nurses home care in a clinic once and his feelings forced him to set apart a very considerable amount for helping the palliative clinics in his district).

Volunteers - the backbone of Palliative Care

Every one can contribute his mite in these efforts. Every form of positive work is welcome, right from locating a patient and linking them with the nearest clinic, providing physical or monetary help, linking the patient with governmental agencies for getting documentation that can help them get disability pension etc.

No educational qualification is required to become a volunteer. What is needed is only a positive attitude to help others in distress. There are so many volunteers who cannot read or write well, or who are not financially sound. They can be of any religion or caste or political affiliation. All those who are interested in alleviating the problems of fellow human beings can become volunteers. It is not a work that is required to be done affecting our regular occupation. Those who can spare a couple of hours in a week in their leisure can contribute a lot by becoming volunteers.

In short, volunteers are the backbone of this service oriented system of care. Let me end this note with a well known quotation by Mother Theresa.

“It is not how much we do, but how much love we put in the doing. It is not how much we give, but how much love we put in the giving”

----------oOo----------

(Note prepared by: M. P. Ravindranathan, volunteer-coordinator of Ottapalam Palliative care clinic, Palakkad district, a division of Ottapalam Welfare Trust. Please visit their website: www.owelt.org.in to get to know more about this trust and its activities)

Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake?

2008-11-28T07:55:00.008+05:30

( To those faceless entities who unleashed a trail of death)

Are you Happy? Are you smiling? Are you laughing?

The sight of the carnage, the panic, the madness

The terror, the blank gaze…

The people running helter skelter

The blood, the cries, the wails

They soothe your injured souls?

Are you pacified?

Are you celebrating?

Backslapping one another

For a deed well accomplished?

You’ve achieved what you sought?

No? more to do?

More carnage, more destruction in your to do list?

A couple of men gone?

So what – you’re looking at the larger picture?

So much of colour, so much of sound too

Did you sleep soundly ?

Oh no, more plans, more strategies to work out…

So much more to be done…

There is no doubt in your conscience right?

Everything is just right , just how it should be?

WHERE the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.







Sorry Sir..everything has gone awry...

there is only fear, there is only anguish...

and the fragments are so tiny and shorn far apart-

Haven? Freedom? Mere sounds...

2008-11-27T16:42:00.003+05:30

I cannot watch and yet I cannot but watch...where and when will all this end?

http://mumbaihelp.blogspot.com/

A couple of years ago, we had travelled to Mumbai in a group. We were going sightseeing one day. My husband and son could not accompany the rest of us because they took ill. I joined the others leaving my heart behind in the boarding where we were put up. We took the Mumbai darshan bus. We stopped at The Gateway of India. As we were walking , I went up with my cousin to the public telephone booth located below The Taj. I was frantically trying to reach my husband's mobile and I could not. One of the watchmen stepped forward and asked me to make the call from his cell. I spoke to my husband and reassured about his health, thanked the person and came away. I had just about crossed the road when I heard somebody calling out to get my attention. It was the same person - he was holding out his cell to me. Apparently my husband, not knowing whose cell I was calling from had called back and this person had come running to allow me to attend the call.

I thanked him profusely...

I'm thinking of him today and of many others...

Borrowing Tags

2008-11-27T12:33:00.003+05:30

Tag :1

Do you remember how you developed a love for reading?

My maternal uncle who used to live with us those days , used to gift me a book for my birthdays- and I remember waiting eagerly for the book and then reading it at one go as soon as I laid my hands on it. I would find my amma always with a book whenever she was free. Reading developed naturally without too much of effort.

What are some books you read as a child?

It used to be Enid Blyton most of the time. Then achhan used to buy Amar Chitra Katha regularly from the little shop near V.T station. We used to bind the issues. I would never tire of reading them over and over again. I graduated to Nancy drew, Agatha Christie. I used to like Charles Dickens when I was older. I enjoyed K.M Munshi’s Krishnavataram series.

What is your favourite genre?

Fiction mostly. Nowadays a bit on the spiritual line. I don’t relish travelogues, but I sort of enjoyed Ruskin Bond’s 'Tales of the open Road' recently because it not in the travelogue format. I used to enjoy horror but not any more. I like to get hold of a mushy romance now and then. I like R.K. Narayan. I’ve relished reading different expositions on The Mahabharatha- fictionalized versions- these were mostly in Malayalam. I used t o enjoy P.G.Wodehouse but now, though I don’t mind reading them once in a way, I find the humour contrived and grating!

Do you have a favourite novel?

Oh yes, many…let me list a few that comes to mind at this moment:

As a child I loved Ruby Ferguson’s “Jill’s Gymkhana”

Nikos Kazantsakis- Zorba The Greek- it has spoken to me differently at different times amazing me each time.

M.T.Vasudevan Nair’s ‘Randaam Oozham’- There’s a real good English ‘recreation’ online .

V.T.Nandakumar’s “Ente Karnan”

Kuttikrishna Marar’s ‘Bharatha Paryatanam’

Alex Haley’s ‘Roots’

Paulo Coelho’s ‘Eleven Minutes’

Many many more…

Where do you usually read?

Anything other than cookery recipe books , travelogues, Science fiction. I get lost in Geographical/ spatial details.

Do you usually have more than one book you are reading at a time?

No, I stick to only one book at a time. I think I might get confused otherwise.

Do you read nonfiction in a different way or place than you read fiction?

No I don’t think so- or may be when I read non fiction I sometimes go back and re -read, sometimes take down lines in my diary.

Do you buy most of the books you read, or borrow them, or check them out of the library?

I busy most of my books, though I’ve borrowed too- and then ended up buying a copy if I liked it too much.

Do you keep most of the books you buy? If not, what do you do with them?
I keep all the books I buy. I find it difficult to give away books even those that I don’t like.

If you have children, what are some of the favorite books you have shared with them? Were they some of the same ones you read as a child?
The books that my brother and me read as a child are all safely preserved in my parents home in Kerala and my sons have read most of them whenever they visit them.

What are you reading now?

I’m reading Malcolm Gladwell’s ‘Blink’- its not too engrossing and I’m kind of dawdling through it.

Do you keep a TBR (to be read) list?
Yes, I’ve such a list but no idea if I’ll ever get them.

What books would you like to reread?

Most of the ones I’ve read.

Who are your favourite authors?
M.T.Vasudevan Nair. I’ve written to him and received a reply too which is a treasured possession.

My oldest memory:

I’ve many memories but am not sure which is the earliest. Perhaps the one of falling and hurting myself in our Bombay flat- bleeding profusely and being taken to the hospital. A neighbour and friend by the name of Sunita was with me. The scar remains on my forehead to this day.

Ten years ago:

November 1998? Just ordinary days. No particular memory that has stuck.

My first thought this morning

‘better get up…’

If you built a time capsule, what would it contain:

My family, my pc.

This year:

Eventful.

14 years from now:

I’d be 55 then. Hopefully someone with serenity, tolerance, acceptance, good health and lots, lots of emotional and mental strength . Someone who is not afraid about the uncertanities of Life.

Taking a Bow

2008-09-25T13:58:00.006+05:30

Me an honest Blogger? HHG has graciously awarded me with this title- An Honest Blogger. Dear HHG, receiving any award is always an honour- and when it comes from someone whom one respects and admires, it becomes even more special. Thank you so much HHG. But it has put me into an introspection mode.

HONEST- is one adjective that I’ve wondered about with regard to my posts. Not that I’ve been dishonest on my posts. I can confidently say that while I’ve never been dishonest here on my patch of cyberspace, I must add that I’ve had second thoughts at times, have pruned words before pressing the ‘post' button. On one occasion, I remember I went back and deleted an entire post. So whatever stays here, while is true, wholly true, I’ve never ventured to express anything that I’m uncomfortable sharing on a public forum.
Why do I do this? I’m not sure I’ve a clear answer, but even in my real life, except within my closest circle, I tend to be very careful about how I express myself. I’m extremely wary about ruffling feathers, rubbing people the wrong way. I’m mostly a fence sitter , a spectator simply because excited voices raised in dissent makes me extremely uncomfortable. I might express my difference of opinion politely once, and stop there without pursuing it. If the ambience is very vehement, I don’t take the effort even once. However I must add that I’m rarely convinced or converted away from my stance. I’ve been given to understand that I can be quite stubborn that way. I’ve wondered about the reasons I choose to keep my opinions to myself. Am I afraid of unpleasant, unfavourable reactions? Could be.

I’ve talked about my blog persona before here.

Getting back to the award tag, These are the rules:

1. The winner can put the logo on their blog
2. Link the person you received your award from
3. Nominate at least 7 other blogs.
4. Put links of those blogs on yours.
5. Leave a message on the blogs you’ve nominated.

Most of the bloggers I might have described as honest have been honoured already, so I’ll just mention some of the bloggers whose posts I find endearingly honest .

Akeeyu, Biswanath Ghosh, Punds, Asuph, like a feather, Libranlover, The Box

Disconnected thoughts

2008-09-22T16:41:00.003+05:30

I saw “Jaane tu jaane na” when we had gone to Bangalore in Aug. Overall cute movie, but I was not as enamoured as I was with “Dil chahta hai”. In fact another story on similar lines- ‘Niram” in Malayalam- (which incidentally has been remade in Tamil too- with vijay and shalini- I forget the name of the movie) I had liked better- However, the hero is cute and some of the dialogue was brilliant.

Saw “Memoirs of Geisha” the other day- had heard so much about the book and the movie and so when I saw in the papers that they were relaying it I resolved to see it. Besides, I was free with no NIE sessions because it’s the quarterly exam season. As I switched on the T.V. “Philadelphia” was coming to an end- that movie about an aids victim - It was Tom Hanks as the Aids victim and he has turned out a marvelous performance as usual- quite painful and depressing to watch him crumbling bit by bit.

Memoirs of Geisha began- and God Disposes- or rather the EB disposes- the power cut commences simultaneously – resumed after the mandatory 1 hour. Saw what was left of it. Neat movie. Browsed through the net to get an insight into the whole movie. Poignant and powerful performances.

Listening to Muhammad Rafi songs- Ehsaan tera hoga mujh par

Dil chahta hai wo kehne do…mujhe tumse muhobbat ho gayi hai

Mujhe palkon ke chhaaon mein rehne do …

The way Rafi twirls and enunciates the word ‘Mohabbat’ tugs at the soul…

I listen to Chhaayageet daily on Vividh Bhathi on my cell - followed by ‘Aap ki farmaayish’- 10.00 – 11 p.m-mostly old melodies rustling up sleeping memories.

Y’day, saw ‘Thanmaatra’ – a Malayalam film based on the progression (regression) of an Alzheimer’s victim. This role is played by Mohanlal- a government official- a caring husband and father- notices his failing memory with some alarm. Gradually he loses all his faculties, left with random snatches of incoherent memories- how his family struggles to cope- so painful to watch especially those scenes where he for fractions of moments realizes his predicament- the helplessness, the deep pain- is heart wrenching to watch. I was sobbing away – I had been wanting to see this movie because I had heard it was brilliantly made, Mohanlal has done a wonderful job, ( tho I don’t think mannerisms like slurring and putting one’s tongue out are symptoms of Alzheimers) and so has the others who have played the roles of his caring wife, son, father, and close friend. Though I relished the technical brilliance of the film, I was totally sunk in depression by the end.

Really scary- one is left wondering about the consequences of loss of memory- one is after all an amalgam of experiences, memories and conditioned thinking- if that is gone, is not one reduced to an empty shell? Reminds me of an earlier post of mine here.

Lullaby memories- A repost

2008-09-01T12:18:00.004+05:30

( The following is a repost of an old blog- dated January 18 '05.I was reminded of it when I read a post on Mad Momma's page. Since I blog very sporadically these days, thought of simply doing a cut and paste).

Today I was reminded of the time when I used to sing lullabies to my kids when they were babies- I would sit on the floor, my back resting on the wall behind, my legs out stretched with a pillow, and my baby , I would lay on my extended legs- I would have decided it was time for him to go to sleep, because I had unfinished chores waiting- and thus having my baby gently tucked up on my out stretched legs, my hands clasping the little palms, I would set forth belting out all the songs I knew- not necessarily lullabies always- any melodys would serve the purpose as far as I was concerned-( I remember songs like chura liya tumne jo dil ko too featured in this lullaby repertoire- ) and all the while I’d be rocking the baby to and fro on my legs- the songs would be in Malayalam, Hindi and a few in broken Tamil too- when I was at a loss for the lyrics- la- la- la- la would be substituted- Needless to say I forgot the hapless neighbours, but got to say to their credit, never received a complaint or a notice to quit our flat- the lullaby concert would go on and on for more than an hour sometimes, simply because I was enjoying listening to my voice to the hilt, irrespective of whether my baby was asleep or awake. There would be little breaks in between because my baby would be gazing wide eyed at me- sleep farthest from his eyes- and I would have to molly coddle him, talk to him in gibberish to which he would gurgle back heartily- and sometimes even reply back in gibberish- and after our little conversation I would go back to my attempt to singing him to sleep.

And finally when my feet had gone to sleep too, and I was reminded of the piled up vessels in the sink, the half cooked sabji in the cooker, I would stealthily pick my sleeping baby, tuck him cosily in his bed, with pillows all around for added cosiness, kiss the chubby cheek, gaze fondly at my sleeping angel for some precious moments and finally tiptoe to my kitchen to finish my chores. Less than five minutes would have passed and my jigar ka tukda would be wide awake bawling his head off for all he was worth- all efforts of a good hour and more gone up in smoke- awww… and if the door bell buzzed when my baby was sleeping- I used to get soooo angry…

And then there were the times when I would have run out of my stock of songs and my baby would still be wide awake, and I would have been exhausted… he would have decided that he had enough of the drama/concert and he would give me a solid yelling and I had to resort to other means of placating him…

And today my elder “baby” is almost *15, he is sporting an incipient moustache- his voice cracks and squeaks, especially when he is angry, and we end up laughing together- and I think I’ve forgotten to sing…

( * My baby is now 18 years and far away in a hostel ).

The point of no return.

2008-07-16T13:35:00.000+05:30

THE POINT OF NO RETURN

HORIZON HUES

2008-07-07T20:20:00.002+05:30

Dabbling after a long time...

Horizon Hues