Not been tagged, yet...

During my bloghopping rounds, I saw Lalita’s tag- which later disappeared mysteriously- and I remembered the name of the blogger who had tagged her and so I tracked Chet from her comments – and took up the tag- I went around and have tracked down a couple more tags- but I’ll reserve those for a rainy day- meaning for another day when I’m stuck with nothing to blog abt…
So here’s the first one:

Which is the single best post you’ve read on any blog?

Too many to list actually- but right now I remember Scarlett’s post – the most recent one- I love her style of writing.

Which is the best post you’ve written ? which is the worst?

I really can’t say. Sometimes I’m very excited about what I’m about to post- the feeling vapourises soon after. And at other times, I do not feel too good abt a post- and yet I go ahead- but then sometimes the comments later make me feel gratified enough.
I think I like this one:
Shared Milestones.


How abt a place you’ve never been to but would very much like to?

I’m not too keen abt traveling- and am happiest at home- and so had to do a bit of thinking here and decided on Mercara- have seen it in a Malayalam movie- and remember thinking I would like to go there.

If you were a member of the opposite sex, what would you’ve done differently?

Again my imagination fails me. I find I’m just unable to think as a member of the opposite sex. Still, may be I would try to be the most romantic kind of man to my woman (chuckle- the very thought makes me giggle).I’m just able to think beyond this feminine perspective. That sets me thinking- Are souls female/ male/ asexual?? I wonder…

Do you remember a childhood recurring dream or nightmare? Good or bad tell us abt it:

More than one- and I still see them sometimes but it does not bother me afterwards.
I see myself being late – for something- somewhere.
I see myself appearing for an exam with no preparation.
I see myself losing my way- forgetting my way back.
I see an overflowing dirty toilet.
And err..I see myself being spied upon when changing.

I also used to see myself as having very long, thick tresses- not any more tho- finally guess I’ve accepted that its never to be.

Make me laugh, make me cry- put your words to it:

This is difficult. I mean I just can’t command words to my whim- so let me just post a link- which I hope does not atleast make you want to cry: Scholastic Lullabies

Do you regret the unfulfilled dream, inaccessible roads, uncharted lands?

No regrets as such- yes, a couple of dreams more- which if fulfilled I would consider as bonus. I would say that I’m pretty content with the way things are.

What is a friend to you? What are you to a friend?

A friend to me is someone whom I love, care for deeply- someone, whose happiness matters to me a lot- someone whom I need to reach out to, keep in touch often- doesn’t matter if they don’t/can’t find time. A friend is someone with whom I can be just be myself with no masks- fear of judgment .

Me as a friend- I don’t know if I can claim of being of any real, tangible help to a friend- I just know I feel lot of affection for my friends. I can only hope that I’ve been a good, caring friend to my friends.

A friend is someone who remains- irrespective of the geographical distance- with or without the background score, with or without the props or the prompter- with or without make up, with or without applause or may be even an audience- a friend remains even after the curtain falls…

T.S.Elliot measured his life with coffee spoons. How abt you?

With Icecream scoops- dollops of Life- every moment to be slurped, savoured, relished- and then sit back with the remembered flavors…

Write your own epitaph or if that is too hard how would you like your epitaph to read?

Someone who loved, relished and savoured “Love”

Someone who loved, relished and savoured being Loved

Someone who is very grateful for every moment, every experience, every person who crossed her path, grateful for every single memory…

R.I.P Steve Irwin

I was running around the house getting the chores done. It was Onam and my parents had come down to visit. There was plenty to do when my elder son called me with a dazed expression. He showed me a hedline in the paper- Steve Irwin killed in action!

All that I knew about Steve was from what my son used to tell me. All the tid bits of information that he gave me which I listened to sometimes absently, sometimes raptly. I was aware that my son admired the man and he had even told me that some day he hoped to go to Austrlaia and learn under Irwin. And now, this man was no more- I paused- I couldn’t believe it- I hadn’t even watched him on T.V- just from what my son had shared with me- I felt I had known him .

Needless to say, my son was extremely upset. Later, I read about him on the net, papers. He had so many fans and admirers all over the world. It is indeed a colossal loss to the animal world and animal lovers.

Of course among the umpteen adulatory obituaries, there was the random comment- accusing Irwin of having been too daring, to the point of craziness, and I found myself thinking on similar lines too- meaning I wished he had been a bit more cautious, careful. Now, his family had to face this irreparable loss- his children had become fatherless.

On Sunday, I watched the Marathon tribute to the Crocodile Hunter on Animal Planet- and I realized that the man was sooooo passionate about what he did. He just couldn’t have behaved in any other way. He clearly knew what he was doing, what he was dealing with, and he loved every bit. Passion has a way of propelling one to unimaginable limits- it’s a driving force one just can’t resist. Like Steve had said in one of his documentaries, He was put on this planet exclusively for animal conservation and creating awareness about endangered wild life. And in spite of a relatively short life, I guess he has gone a long way in achieving this.

But he’s gone now, in the most unbelievable, unexpected way- when though one had always kind of expected something of this sort to happen, now one realises that one had almost thought that he was invincible-

May his family find the strength and fortitude to bear this loss.

Its just there...

Yet again, our colony celebrated Independence Day- a senior, respected resident was invited to hoist the National Flag- after which, he spoke at length abt India, Independence, reminisced abt days of yore, lamented abt today’s generation…how children today did not know the significance of Independence-Freedom struggle- all they knew was it was ‘mithaai day” and all this while there were just a handful of gents and ladies- and many kindergarten kids running around with paper flags- chocolates cackling away- blissfully ignoring meek ‘shhhhs’ thrown at them by some of the irritated elders.

I pinned the little paper flag on my dress with a tinge of pride- I know not how to define patriotism- I just know I feel ‘something’ for my country- the land where I was born- I grew up mostly outside India- but now again for the past 17yrs, I’ve been on this soil…

Being concerned, worried about all the violence /corruption happening in my country does not stop me from feeling affection for my country- it is involuntary- reflex- it is just there- and has been there ever since I can remember- it’s a part of my feelings, thoughts and emotions which hitherto I’ve taken for granted as part of the person that I’m.

What have I done for my country- I can make no claims-
Poverty depresses me, Natural calamities scare me, Filth and squalor disgusts me, Corruption fills me with repugnance and frustration, Terrorism angers me- and yet I do nothing- (except may be blog? And what does that count for?)

I just pin a paper flag and sign The National Anthem with gusto…and I bring up two sons…

I remember while I was in the Middle East during my school going days- these National functions meant so much- just running into Indians in the souk, lagoon, airport- evoked a feeling of belonging irrespective of South- North- Madrasis- the fragmentation just dissolved in such scenario.
Coming out of the theatre after seeing the movie “Gandhi”, many years ago- one could sense that unified sense of belonging as the Indian audience emerged into the world outside that day…

Saw “Rang De Basanti” on T.V the other day- and I could relate to the fervor and emotion inspired by that movie-
I’ve not seen, experienced India before Independence- was the air different? Did the water taste different- I wouldn’t know- All I know abt that time was from books, movies, articles, poems- songs- and I’ve thought about the fervor, the passion that Gandhiji, Chandrasekhar Azad, Bhagat Singh- and the countless others- nameless and faceless- I’ve wondered about the love, the dedication, the devotion- that drove them to unimaginable limits of endurance- and sometimes there is a choke in my throat-

Today’s children-are even less aware- I realize I want to share with my children the significance- the importance of what those Leaders have achieved- but I am not often able to find words that would sound convincing, inspiring- if watching such movies do succeed in evoking some allegiance towards one’s country- it’s a good thing I feel- my son came home y’day and said how he and his friends had talked abt the movie- the leaders with awe… and that they felt like doing something for the country-

What is the necessity? I just feel it should be so- to feel responsible towards one’s country- its people- to feel that one owes something to the Nation- and if every child grows up with this notion- this feeling of allegiance- it would be better for everyone in the long run.

While I believe that geographical barriers need not dictate allegiance/affection for Humanity or for Creation at large- what better place than to begin but home?

It is a feeling that I cannot help feeling- that extra bit of warmth, thrill of belonging- for the soil that is my homeland- Its just there- I cannot deny it- I cannot pretend its not there-
My heart beats for my country…

For My Brother!

mere bhaiyya, mere chanda, mere anmol ratan
tere badle mein zamaane ki koi cheez na loon
tere saason ki kasam khaake hawa chalti hai
tere chehre ki jhalak paake bahaar aati hai
ek pal bhi meri nazron se jo tu ojhal ho
har taraf meri nazar tujh ko pukaar aati hai...

( Movie: Kaajal, singer: Asha Bhonsle)

I wonder...

The other day, I saw a movie on T.V- “Married to a stranger”- the heroine loses her memory totally after an accident. She can’t remember her husband, daughter, and mother. She is unable to feel any emotion for them. She is totally lost without a clue about the person she was- she feels sorry for them like a third person, but can’t bring herself to feel anything for them. She feels like a stranger in the house that used to be her home- nothing seems familiar- she wants to get away from their expectations and hopes. She wants to chart out a life afresh like on an empty slate- she begins to feel affection for the counselor who has been helping her out.

The husband is devastated, and finds it difficult to come to terms with the stranger that his wife seems to have become. He keeps thinking that her memory would return in the next moment- he finds that his wife has no longer the same likes and dislikes or passions. It’s like a whole new person only the face and body is the same.

So that got me thinking. Are we only our memories? Memories formed along the years thru experiences, circumstances- and conditioning? Without these we’re empty- a totally different kind of person?
Do we grow/learn to like/love somebody based on our conditioning- are we predisposed to certain behavioural traits according to values instilled in us? And so minus these factors we might never like/love the same person? Or does our affection/affinities sustain in spite of these variables? If yes, then is it what we call Karmic bonding? I have no clue…still I wonder…

Then there was this other movie: “Eternal sunshine of a spotless mind”- where there is this organization which undertakes to help a client to erase memories pertaining to a selected individual- the client is expected to provide all the memorabilia connected with the selected person.

So the heroine here decides to delete memories of the hero- and goes ahead and gets it done. The hero on coming to know of this is hurt and angered- and so he also decides to erase all memories of the heroine from his mind. And as he is lying unconscious while the procedure is going on, in his subconscious level, he realises that he doesn’t want to erase memories of her after all- as painful, bitter memories get deleted, he wants to cling to the sweet, poignant memories- he doesn’t want to let go of the beautiful moments- but he’s unable to stop the process- its like being on a speeding roller coaster that cannot be stopped. He is frantic trying to rescue the losing memories from getting erased forever…

And when the heroine is forming new relationships, he feels like the intruder is usurping his memories and identity. In an attempt to rescue the precious memories he tries to insert them into nooks and crevices of his memory where she did not belong- i.e.: in the time before she came into his life- his childhood.

The hero and heroine get attracted to each other in spite of the absence of their memories of their past together. In both movies, the heroines are worried if they’d be able to sustain their relationship in the wake of bad times, when the bitter memories resurface- but they choose to go ahead and forge their bond all over again.

So in the absence of the worldly/ mortal/ physical constants- i.e.: the memories based on our individual experiences and conditioning, what is it that paves the way for two individuals to bond, that unknown factor that guides them towards an affinity for each other- is that what we call Karma/ Destiny/Fate??? Is it about working out of certain Karmic debts? And if one had the option to select and delete unpleasant memories, enhance the good memories, then would the quality of relationships improve?

I’ve no clue- still I wonder…

Am I?

Your Blogging Type Is Thoughtful and Considerate

You're a well liked, though underrated, blogger.You have a heart of gold, and are likely to blog for a cause.You're a peaceful blogger - no drama for you!A good listener and friend, you tend to leave thoughtful comments for others.

What's" Your Blogging Personality?

Something lost, Something missing

Something lost, Something missing

Tagged again!

Ceekay has tagged me- and I’m eager to do it- she has tagged me becos she says she wants to know me better- and somehow that makes me feel good!

From the moment I read her post, my thoughts have been in a clamor- so many thoughts romping about in such a hurry- some so totally unrelated- and each falling over the other, that I really have to sit down, catch hold of each one- and try to sort them out in some cohesive order- so here you are:

I’m thinking about:

What all to write in my tag- whom all to tag- who might respond and who might not- usually I do not tag anybody else, but this time I think I shall- because like CK said I’d like to know something more about some of the other bloggers whose posts I regularly read-

I’m thinking about my DH’s trip to B’lore today- I don’t like it when he’s to go out of station- even if it is only for 2 days- I miss him too much and I’m not at ease until he returns.

I said:

Right now- nothing- it’s just me and my thoughts. My younger son who is having a holiday today becos its Aadi amaavaasi- came to me some time ago and got me to do some kind of game- he gave me folded piece of chit- forbidding me to open it until he told me to- then he went thru a series of steps with me abt thinking a few numbers- which he got me to reduce one by one and finally when he asked me to open the chit- it contained the number which I was left with. I was surprised- and he did explain to me how he did it- but I understood nothing-

I want to:

Plenty of things- I’ve begun learning Bharatanatyam again- after a gap of 16 years- and I want to graduate from the adavu (steps) level and dance to certain songs that I’ve in mind.
I want to write and publish something spectacular someday….

I wish:
It was Thursday morning- when DH would be back from his B’lore trip.

I hear:

Sounds from the T.V in the hall- looks like my son has stopped playing- and has now settled down in front of the T.V.
I can hear the hum of the fan and the p.c. I’m straining to see if I can hear anymore sounds- but no- nothing else- our home is very near the railway track- and sometimes when a train comes hurtling down- I can feel the vibrations-

I wonder:
How I’d look with my dance make up- I never liked how I looked when I was young, and now that I’m older, I expect I’d look even worse…

I regret:
Not having joined Dance classes earlier.
Not having enrolled for M.A. I’ll do that next year.

I am:
Lazy, stubborn, loving, affectionate, possessive, short tempered, moody, temperamental, jovial- yup a confused bundle of contradictions-

I dance:
Everyday- I’m passionate abt dance- I would like to do the “gujrati garba” some day- I love the grace, the rhythm-

I sing:
Most of the time- ancient Lata hits- (e.g.: mohe bhool gaye saawariyaan, ehsaan tera hoga mujhpar, nagari nagari dwaare, tu jahaan jahaan chalega mera saaya, tum na jaane kis jahaan mein kho gaye)
However, now my sons have begun singing: woh lamhe, woh baatein- koi na jaane, suttum vizhi chudare, eh meri, meri zohrajabeen, ek mein aur ek tu hai, jiya dhadak dhadak and they silence me with their fervor and volume.

I cry:
too easily :- ( I’ve been told that I’ve invisible leaky tanks fixed to my eyelids- I really, really wish I could regulate my sobs sniffles and tears- they’re most unruly and unmanageable.

I’m not always:
Lazy. I can be bitten by the ‘hardworking’ bug once in a blue moon, when the white crow flies upside down…ok, I’m not that baad- I’m ok-

I make with my hands:

Edible food, though I don’t get all excited abt the kitchen, kitchen tools, vegetables and other stuff there.
I can do a bit of tailoring – tho only for myself- with paper cuttings-
A bit of embroidery, a bit of pencil sketching…

I write:
In my diary before typing in my pc. If I try typing my thoughts directly on to the pc, I’ve this lil picture inside my mind of these few bloggers who might find their way into my posts and then this picture kind of tends to distort the translation of my thoughts into words, and so I’ve to pretend that nobody is ever going to read my thoughts, and this is easier when I write with the good old pen in my good old diary-

I confuse:
I’m confused abt several things- mostly abt the discrepancies between what people say, seem and behave- but I’m learning to let go- and not try to analyse or make judgments.


I need:
Books, lots of books. I’ve this loooong list of book that I want to read- but am not able to get hold of them.
I need to get my music system and sewing machine repaired.
I need my parents to be healthy and cheerful always.
I need to see my brother now and then- talk with him- but he’s sooo far away…
I need to be with myself for sometime everyday…

And finally:

I’ve finished doing this tag- and my thoughts have become a bit disciplined- and there is relative calm in my mind- and now whom shall I tag- I’m supposed to tag 5 people, but I’m going to tag 9 people- because I’d like to read what they come up with, that is if they choose to do it.

Arundhati

Wbix

Usha

Priyam

Sharanya

Divya

Punds

Boo

Jeya

Groping with Reality?

Truth, Reality/ Illusions/delusions- Maya, mirage, horizon- these concepts have been haunting me of late- everything seems so relative- one cannot be sure-

The Mumbai blasts- when I first heard of it, my first reaction was utter dismay, which was soon replaced by panic when I remembered that my 3 cousin sisters, their husbands- all of them traveled by train daily- to and fro from work- I frantically tried to reach them but all phone lines were jammed. I finally managed to contact one of them who assured me that all of them were safe. And then I found the respite to think of all the others who were still in the throes of anxiety and fear for their loved ones. Now my emotion was anger, helpless rage- which found expression in a wave of tears- my younger son who had been watching me all this while kept mumbling: “amme, don’t cry- mema and cheriamma are all safe”. But the tears and sobs did not subside-

I visited the site “Mumbai help” and was amazed at the gesture- faceless strangers- helping other faceless strangers- it was awesome- I’ve no words…

Today after ten days after the incident- Mumbai is “normal” (!!!???) people have expressed their grit, courage, anger, grief, angst, solidarity in several ways- blogging being one of them too- blogspot was banned- and now that has also been cleared- everything is back to ‘normal’.

And I’m wondering about meanings of some words- Truth- Reality-
The understanding of the reality of that one day, the differences in perspectives- how the event has changed different people:

The reality to those who lost their loved one/ones that day- their loss, bereavement- for them it is a singular event- they have to cope with the day to day absence of somebody important in their daily existence…somebody who just stopped coming home one day!

The reality of those in Mumbai who have survived- they’re safe, they’ve resumed life- they are traveling once again in trains- the daily routine- grind-

The reality to those whose loved ones escaped narrowly due to some quirk of Fate/Destiny- they came close to a devastating loss- and managed to escape and survive-

The reality to those like me- who are geographically far away- who have not suffered any direct ‘loss’, and yet watching the aftermath on T.V – the blood- the panic- the sorrow- the pain- of others- whom one doesn’t even know- for us the event is in multitude- we can see it only as a mass rampage- it is scary- its terrifying- its numbing…

The reality to the perpetrators- they, who planned, executed, waited and watched the consequences- their reaction? Are they happy? Satisfied with a deed well accomplished?

Which is the Truth? Reality?

Rude memories...

I was catching up with Shankari’s blogs and reading one of her earlier blogs, in which she mentions that as a child she used to collect pieces of all kinds of random things from the neighbourhood; sent me pummeling down memory lane.

I too was fond of collecting little colored stones, tiles, pebbles as a child. And yes, I also loved wearing an assortment of trinkets, those days- I loved glass bangles, paayal/ anklets, pattu paavaadai . Looking back, I guess I must’ve looked quite a sight when I first joined college in Kerala after schooling in the Middle East. In Dubai, I think nobody really noticed how one dressed- at least they never commented, and so there I was totally ignorant of what a picture I must’ve looked then.

I used to wear these frock type midis- with frills and bows, red velvet slippers with embroidery , I had long hair which I plaited on either sides, wore these huge jingly jangly earrings, and a few hair fell in tendrils on either cheeks – a la shobhana from her “kanaamarayathu” days. To add to the effect I wore Kajal on my eyes- trailing like actresses from the 60’s , and not to forget matching glass bangles…I shudder as I type these words and wont be surprised if the reader shudders too as they read these lines. Still, let me venture to say that I did not perhaps look as ghastly as the image that these words tend to evoke in the reader’s mind.

However within a year of my hostel life, my friends succeeded in sobering me down with their affectionate teasing. I stopped lengthening the kajal beyond my eyes, pushed the stray tendrils of hair behind my ears until they grew to the length of the rest of my mane, abandoned my red velvet slippers and stopped wearing glass bangles- I still have my payal tho- but they remain unonbtrusive…

Gentle Awakening

They were 4 people, a husband, wife, son and daughter. They stood at my door step smiling- they told me that they had come to meet me- I was totally perplexed, becos I was sure I was seeing them for the first time. I ushered them inside and asked them to sit. All the while I was furiously trying to jog my memory cells trying to place them- perhaps they were friends of somebody whom we knew- and had come to meet us upon their request. They introduced themselves- told me their names- they had come all the way from England to meet me!

As I was trying to digest what ever they told me wondering what they wanted, what they expected- they assured me, that they expected nothing- they simply and plainly just wanted to meet me- talk to me- that they were members of a group ( Swaadhyaay) and they undertook to meet people and spread the message that God was not an external entity- he was dwelling within each one of us- and if we remembered that and behaved accordingly the world would be a wonderful place. They told me that they were inspired to do this by a philosopher ( Pandurang Shastri Athavale) who refused to be called a Guru- and whom they affectionately called “Dadaji”- meaning “elder brother” in Marathi.

They further informed me that they were about thousands of them who were at the very same moment visiting several homes and spreading the same message- as a tribute to their Dadaji as well as sharing their belief in Universal Divine Brotherhood. They expressed that there was no need to perform rituals, unless of course that gave an individual satisfaction0 that all one had to remember was to be aware, recognize and respond to the innate beckoning of our nature- that is to love all and everything. A nature that we were tending to neglect, forget in the daily business of Life. All perhaps that may be done was remember to thank that Divine Consciousness or Force within us – for being the driving force of our lives- and helping, guiding and protecting us in the course of our Daily Lives.

They politely declined offers of even tea/coffee- clarified that they expected no donations, no canvassing, persuasion- they undertook all expenses from their personal income- and all the group members were unified in this thought and concept wholeheartedly!

What amazed me was that these people set out on their endeavor with so much of sincerity, cheer and faith- all the way from another part of the world- with absolutely zero expectations, fully aware of the skepticism that they were likely to encounter- simply because they believed in it, and felt that they owed it to the Society to spread this message- whether their listeners agreed, accepted or not was not in their hands. They were so affectionate and genuine that most of us felt ourselves drawn to them in spite of our selves. Simply because they were so transparent and genuine in their mission- and there was so much of cheer and warmth among them.

Irrespective of whether we were able to imbibe or chose to spread the same message – we (my family and I) felt so touched and grateful for such people- that they undertook such an endeavor wholeheartedly with so much of sincerity and joy was admirable. They made us feel so much happier, contented- about feeling affection- about expressing affection -

I wish...

A neighbour left today- her husband has been transferred to Mumbai, and she’s going to join him . Its been only a year since I got to know her- she came here to live in this apartment after her marriage last year. She is a sweet girl, very witty, charming and exudes warmth and cheer around her. Today, she came home to say Goodbye- and suddenly I wished I had taken more effort and time to know her better- I had always felt that she would be great person to get to know more- she had such a cheerful, endearing demeanour- I wished I had endeavoured to go beyond the ‘Hi’s” and casual banter- but I had always thought there was plenty of time left- and today as we said our Goodbyes, I’m filled with regret- and like in the story of the ‘sour grapes’ ,I tell myself- well, if we had got too friendly this parting would’ve been even more painful- still I wish…

Out of Touch

The past week went by without net access- and I survived becos of my dance classes. The pain in my legs is still there but lesser. And one day I lost my purse- a big one – it just disappeared from within my handbag- everything else intact. I had not had an inkling of how it could’ve just disappeared. In fact when I first noticed that it was missing, I thought I might have forgotten to take it from home in the first place- that it could’ve been stolen seemed impossible. But when I looked for it high and low in my home- it was not there- there had been some loose change, a strip of Dart and another of Crocin- and a little metal idol of Vinayaka given to me by my Vallyamma (MIL). I did feel rather desolate abt the loss but my son and husband consoled me-

First my PC crashed. I was busy composing a comment on one of my friend’s blogs- and the screen froze. I proceeded to reboot the pc but it refused to come alive.
The technicians appeared after much pestering and took away the CPU. I suspected some viral mischief but thankfully only a benign fault was diagnosed. However, as usual we got the CPU only after a couple of days.

Next, our Broad band connexn failed to link- now I had to pester the network people- sometimes the line never went thru, sometimes when it did go thru- they never picked the phone- and then they went for lunch for over 2 hours- and eventually if somebody did pick up the phone out of sheer boredom- they asked me to check all the connexns, tug this wire, press that button- and then pronounced the profound judgment that something was wrong with our PC. I requested them to send someone over to check the connexns, but no- they want to set things right sitting right where they were- i.e.- abt 16 kms away from where my pc was located.
It had been a week now since I had lost touch with the world and I was seriously beginning to show withdrawal symptoms…all that I had learnt abt tolerance and patience from my Art of Living Classes was beginning to evaporate- breathing deep- musing over the transience of all things esp. something as ephemeral as virtual world was increasingly becoming difficult to accept- Maintaining a cheerful countenance was becoming impossible and my husband began to recognize the danger signals. He became desperate too that I gain access to the virtual world- to ensure domestic peace in real life…He succeeded in coercing the computer people to come over- and when this angel in disguise came and after twiddling with the pc, wires and hardware managed to set things right- I was overcome with gratitude- I thanked him profusely- and he realized what a messiah he had proved to be to this household!

I first went over to chek the comments to my last blog- and wowo! Felt great to read the feedback..talk abt ego gratification! thank you friends…

However all is not hunky dory as yet- my broadband connexn keeps going down- and I’m breathing deeply…
So when everything is fine- I’ll be languishing in the virtual world- reading blogs, trying to comment and otherwise its inhaaaaaaaaaaaale…exhaaaaaaaale…

Rediscovering Old passions!

Last Friday, I joined Dance classes- after a gap of 16 years, I’m coercing my feet to dance to the beat of the “Nattuvangam”- the rhythmic recitation of the dance steps .Tho my feet did find it difficult to keep pace at first, they soon found wings- and the Happiness, the Thrill, the ecstasy that I felt cannot be expressed in words. My feet was in agony for the first two days, but I was too happy to care.

This is how it came about:
Last Sunday, I was watching a programme on T.V- a Classical Dance Competition- the judge was from Trichy- and on an impulse I googled her name on the net- got her address and phone number, spoke to her, met her and she asked me to come on the coming Friday. She is much younger than me- and I guess I must be one of her oldest students. :-)

Her dance school is far from where I live- I’ve to reach there by 2 buses. On the first day, my elder son accompanied me until the 2nd bus stand- and would not leave until the bus left the stand. He is so worried if I’ll be able to go on my own and has been drawing maps and trying to teach me which bus to board, which direction to wait for the bus.

Just the prev week I had come across an article posted by a friend regarding discovering guidelines to identify one’s passion, and I found out mine- I knew it always but just reconfirmed it.
If anyone is interested, these are the questions:

How Do You Know When You've Found your Passion?
If you answer yes to most of these questions, you've found an activity you love. When you pursue what you are passionate about, your spirit is energized and renewed.

Do you lose track of time doing this activity?

Do you get excited just thinking about it?

Do you feel energized by it?

Do you dream about it?

Do you lose self-consciousness doing it?

Do you perform beyond your usual abilities when engaged in it?

Has your enthusiasm remained high over a period of time?

Do you seek out people who share this interest?

And also saw a movie on T.V on somewhat similar lines!

Shall we dance-

starring Richard Gere, Jennifer Lopez, Susan Sarandon.

Richard is happily married to Susan- has 2 grown up kids- life is pretty smooth, except that Richard feels a vague discontent- every day as he came home from work in a tram, he would notice a window on a building- a Dance school- and the silhouette of a young woman in the window- one evening on an impulse he gets down- goes up into the building and enrolls for dance classes- his tutor is an older woman- needless to say he’s disappointed that its not the young woman- Jen Lopez who is teaching him- after initial awkwardness, he begins to enjoy his classes a lot- he becomes more lively at home too- and his wife is surprised- she wonders if he’s having some affair and after much deliberation appoints a detective to trail her husband.

Meanwhile Richard tries to talk to Jen Lopez- but she stays aloof- and tells him not to come back for classes if he has not joined for the passion of dance- Richard almost stops his classes, but at the last moment he realizes he has come to love dancing- and Jen Lopez is also happy- a special bonding evolves between the two and she teaches him specially for a competition-
Meanwhile Susan is informed abt her husbands dance classes and she comes to see him perform at the competition with her daughter. Mother and daughter are amazed at his graceful dancing and the daughter cheers him loudly – Richard is distracted and fumbles- causing his dance partner to fall- and it ends up a total fiasco.

Susan is hurt that Richard had not told her abt his classes and Richard does not know what to say- he stops going to the classes-
Meanwhile, Jen Lopez is going abroad to study more dancing- and she writes to Richard saying that he danced really well- and she thanks him for helping her realize that it was Dance that she wanted to excel in- she shares with him her sad experience of the previous year where she and her partner had failed miserably in an International competition- and she had been so ashamed that she was hiding in this obscure dance school- now with Richard’s help, she realized that she wanted to go back to Dance- would he please come to the farewell party to dance just once more with her?

Richard shows the letter to Susan- and tells her he wont be going for the party- he also summons the courage to tell her, that he was so grateful to Susan for being so completely happy and satisfied with him- and he was afraid and ashamed to tell her- the person whom he loved the most, that there was a vague discontent within him- Susan understands- and next morning she leaves a tuxedo and dancing shoes for him and asks him to go and enjoy at the party.
Richard wears the tuxedo, shoes , gets a single red rose, goes to the place where Susan is working , gives her a rose and asks her to dance with him- Susan is overwhelmed- and they dance right there .
Later, they both go to the farewell party- where Lopez was waiting with the other dancer friends- Richard and Jen Lopez and dance together-
And they say their Goodbyes-
At home Richard begins to teach Susan to dance- and they love it-
In the closing scene we find the detective whom Susan had employed joining the dance classes!

The Hols are over...

I had been away on vacation...

The hols are over…and its back to Home sweet home…these hols were hectic filled with family functions and lots of travel- a bit of sickness thrown in…

First kids and me spent 10 days with my parents in Kerala, then we came back to Trichy becos we had planned a tour to Kolkotta, Darjeeling, Puri with 3 other families here. Two days before we were to start my husband came down with yet another spasm of kidney stone. While one doctor advised us to cancel our trip, another senior urologis gave us the go ahead- he asked to just carry painkiller tabs and injections- intra muscular with us. We almost decided to cancel our trip and the kids and our friends were totally disappointed- those 2 days were so filled with confusion and chaos- my husband was ready to go ahead. But I was apprehensive- anyways, we finally decided to go on- taking with us the painkillers- I decided to just go with the flow and surrender myself to the Almighty’s will…

The trip went fine- of course hubby did get pain attacks during the tour- and once he had to inject himself too- he was pretty brave thru the ordeal, our friends were very caring and attentive- and I found it very, very difficult to put on a brave, cheerful countenance whenever he was in pain…

Kolkotta and Puri was very warm, still we managed to do sight seeing- The serene and beautiful Birla Mandir, The Science City, Jain Temple, Dakshineswar, Belur Math, Kali Temple- just wished the streets were cleaner- and just as in other places in India , here too tourists were being fleeced even in the name of God.

Darjeeling was heavenly- but brrrr…it was sooooo cold- and I’m a person who finds trichy winters unbearable at times- so you can imagine my plight- our place of stay was divine- but it was just too, too cold- that one cannot think of anything beyond keeping warm- we did not take the famous toy train to save time- but the road was just as picturesque- the landscape, the monasteries, Padmaja Wild Life sanctuary- here, the environs were so beautiful- the animals so well kept and healthy- and the climate too was comfortable that day.

We went to the Tiger Hills to view the sunrise- at an unearthly hour 0f 3.30 a.m- the place was crowded- the trudge uphill was slippery- and we were breathless- there were local women- so fair and pretty cheerfully selling hot cups of coffee/tea- from huge flasks- As everyone waited for the sun break in the east- horizon- first , the clouds were lined with a brilliant auzure lining- and suddenly the sun erupted in a glorious burning globule- there rose an involuntary gasp from the people gathered- and everyone was cheering- all this in a second- before the sun disappeared behind the clouds again- but the whole place was bathed in sunlight- at such an early hour- tho there was no trace of the sun anymore- The magical moment had been so transient that looking back I wondered if I did see anything so specatacular-

We saw the Nepal India border, Gurkha War Memorial- The Batisia Loop,- indeed it was memorable trip.

At Puri, we stayed at a resort facing the beach- We visited the Jagannath temple, the beach, Konarak temple- Nandan Kanan Wild Life sanctuary- on our last day there, we were caught in a heavy cyclonic rain storm of unbelievable intensity - but thankfully it lasted for a very short time-

Thus we reached back safely- tired but happy- and I waas grateful that there was not too much of trouble – nothing more than we could manage…

and thank you all of you who have been wondering about my absence from the virtual world for their concern and enquiries abt my well being- I'm glad to be back in blogdom- and sooo many blogs to catch up with...

p.s: the tiny stone that was causing my husband so much agony came out soon after we reached trichy- he called up my parents and informed them: "your son –in- law delivered a healthy stone safely"

How Happy am I?

You Are 56% Happy

You're definitely a happy person, even though you have your down moments.You tend to get the most out of life, though there's always some more happiness to be squeezed.

http://www.blogthings.com/howhappyareyouquiz/">How Happy Are You?

The past few posts of mine have been quite dreary and I wanted to write something cheerful for a change. But I've not been in the best of spirits - nor in the pinkest of health. Pains and aches can be so distracting - and whether it is age catching up or my net surfing- I've been afflicted with pains in my shoulder and neck for some weeks now-Only if one is able to think beyond one's physicality can one concentrate on anything- including the very simple act of going through one's daily routine- the aches and the accompanying anxiety sours my mood.

I try to stay away from the pc- as far as possible- I had to do my blog hopping standing- and in between my chores- so as to avoid continous browsing-

"Raaja paarvai" - roughly translated as "the Royal view" - is a term also used in jest to describe a stiff neck- and thats how my view had been this whole of last week- moving my neck even slightly was agony- and the mode of treatment was not pleasant either. In Ayurveda, we have this treatment called "Nasyam"- where by first after applying medicated oil on the afflicted area, followed by fomenting the region after which drops of medicated oil is poured thru each nostril. One has to deeply inhale the oil poured- and then the sinuses get cleared - finally one has to gargle with warm water- On the first day , I created quite a ruckus and DH had a tough time pinning me down to administer the treatment- My sons watched the proceedings in unabashed amusement.
However tedious the procedure is- the results were dramatic. My stiff neck and shoulders relaxed except for sporadic spasms of pain a few times during the day. Even that has gone now.

My elder son's Boards are over and he says the papers were easy. Once he had finished with Maths and Science papers he was like 'the holidays have begun'- tho Hindi and English papers were still left.
After the exams he went to the movies with his friends- and there was so much of planning and phoning- excitement and anticipation- they went to see' Thampi'- and he loved it. he wants to grow hair like Madhavan in the movie- groan- he regaled me with some glorious gory details in the movie-

Now he drives me crazy because he's forever behind his younger brother bossing over him- and the younger one has absolutely no intention of being bossed over- the ensuing war zone medley makes me go crazy- I'm swinging between extremes of mood swings- rage, fury and misery- every time I blow my top once in a way- I'm worried I'll give myself a heart attack- and try to take deep breaths- massaging my tense shoulders-

ufffff...yeah- so thats how happy I'm- and still I made it to 56%...nothing short of Miracle- I should say...

Between Yesterday and Today...

Between last time that I posted here, and today, something among many things had changed. A person who had been living and breathing then was no more now- sure that happens every day at every corner of the world, but when it happens to somebody one has known to a little extent atleast , talked to- laughed with- the reaction, the experience is different.

On 18th sat noon, M maami -a neighbour from the flat upstairs called me and informed
me tearfully that R- the young married daughter of the people in the opposite flat had committed suicide in her huband's home ( which is near by).

At first, nothing registered. I just couldn't grasp anything that i heard and blabbered something like an idiot- simply because I could not believe what I had heard- that sweet, soft spoken girl- no more!! And when the truth finally seeped in, my first impulse was to try to rewind time and revoke the incident. I felt that if we tried immediately, we could undo the situation. I kept asking maami if she was sure that everything was indeed over- perhaps she was mistaken- perhaps she had been just injured- perhaps she had misunderstood the news- but no- maami had just returned after seeing the ‘body’- a person we called R was now ‘the body’.

It came like a bolt to us and the other neighbours. Besides, I was under the impression that she was happy in marriage- apparently, I was mistaken- she was having problems- with her MIL, SIL and hubby-

The last time( during diwali) I had seen her and talked to her, she seemed fine...
and it turns out that it was not a suicide- she was being physically abused- her MIL was not allowing the son to talk to her etc...and the girl had not even told her parents all this- they knew there were some problems but she had always maintained that he was a good man and things would be fine soon- I cant even begin to recount how the MIL behaved later when the body arrived after the post mortem- the happennings were extremely disturbing-

We are now hearing all kinds of stories of the harrassment meted out to that girl... she was not being allowed to even phone her parents- and perhaps we’ll never get to know what actually happened that morning.

The parents are totally devastated- case has been lodged against the husband and MIL- seems she was hit in the head- and then they tried to make it look like a case of hanging- and now they have the gall to say she was having an affair- and all of us know that it is just impossible- the relatives of the girl are now telling her parents that they should've brought the girl home- but they were not aware that things were so bad- seems the girl had not told them... whenever they
asked her, seems she would say that her husband was a very good person at heart and she was sure that soon things would be fine...

Anyways, I too went for the condolence- I saw R – ‘the body’ lain on the floor- she looked so serene and peaceful- almost like she was smiling- she looked emaciated- she had always been slim and had even seemed to have gained some weight when I had seen her last, but now she looked emaciated. Needless to say, the scene was heartwrenching- I came back with a depressed soul and a pounding headache-

The next few days had been very upsetting for all of us here in this apartment block...and am just not able to stop thinking about her- I keep remembering the times I talked to her- how she had burst crackers with my sons during diwali- how we used to tease her when her
husband used to call her on phone so frequently after the engagement-how we had attended her wedding-

So many questions kept haunting me- abt her last moments- she had not called her folks for more than a month- she would’ve longed to see her parents- she would’ve felt so lonely, unloved during her last days- seems she had not been eating even- and now she is beyond all pain and sorrow- all in a matter of a few moments…

The Fountain Pen

I kept searching for it high and low- I knew I had kept it away in some safe place but could not remember where. This happens to me often. I would tuck something precious into some 'safe' place and then forget where the safe place was. This time it was my appachhan's ( maternal grandfather) fountain pen- the one with which he would write in his diary daily until his last day in this world- the silver capped maroon Parker- which my ammamma- grandmother had given to me. The one that I cherished-
Yeah, so here I had been searching for it since some days and I couldn't find it. It nagged me- but I was sure I'd find it sooner or later. I searched everywhere- in all the nooks and crannies- in all the little purses in which I had tucked away bits and pieces of treasure but the pen eluded me...


That day again, I was searching in the cabinet - and suddenly my eyes fell on the little red velvet purse in which I had kept a few pieces of trinkets- and Voila! I knew it was to be in there- I opened the purse, and sure enough there it was lying nestled in between my trinkets- I was so happy and relieved- and my eyes filled with tears- I called to my sons and they came running- they knew how upset I had been about not finding this pen- my elder son filled the pen with ink ..and I wrote my first entry in the new diary that my vallyamma (MIL) had given me...

Postscript

When I was reading the various posts on the Blanknoise project, I had no intention to post one on my own. Because, for one thing, I had moved on…
and another thing I did not want to speak out such a thing in a public forum…


But then at some point, I felt I had to, because:

• The most important thing was to speak out and not remain silent.
• Felt that the furore of the blogs was making a difference in some way- there were several comments to the effect that they had not realized this was such a rampant phenomenon- I felt the increasing awareness among both men and women would make a difference-
• Wanted parents to be extra careful about their kids- about who is chaperoning them- abt making them aware, teaching them to react, to take the necessary action if necessary without feeling guilty, to recoup… and to be able to avoid if possible-
• Parents play an important role in bringing up their sons with the right values, teaching them to respect women as individuals- to respect womanhood…

And to my friends who expressed their concern and affection, I can only assure them that I’m fine- don’t worry.. :-)

Blank Noise #Metoo

Had hidden this post , now Re posting this, after several years.

Reading about child abuse…well, opened old wounds…I really wonder if a single woman escapes…I think every woman undergoes such an experience in some way or the other- to a greater or lesser extent.  
I had always been small for my age and upto the 8^th std, I have had uncomfortable experiences of even sirs/male teachers cuddling me and I remember feeling confused, and a weird sense of having been defiled…
And then of course, buses, movie theatres, bus stops- some of us girls would keep a safety pin or umbrella handy- I have had the pleasure of poking safety pin into many a curious, wandering fingers…
 And then when I left my parents for the first time- and joined college in Kerala, I went for a short holiday back to the Gulf to my parents- during Xmas hols. My  maternal uncle and aunt ( M uncle and M aunt) saw me off at the airport. Everything went fine. I was traveling to and fro alone.
 I was to return and this time another uncle ( S uncle) was to receive me at the airport. He was just a few years younger than my father- and he had always been a reticent, stern type of person. But, for no reason, I was feeling very wary, very nervous about this person coming to receive me, though I had had no unpleasant experience in the past with regards to this person. I even felt guilty about feeling nervous regarding a person who was supposed to be like my father. The plan was that he would receive me at the airport, we would then go to a  family friends' house, freshen up, and then board the same night train and we would reach my grandparents’ home early next morning- this was the plan decided upon. 

However, on the previous evening, for no plausible reason, a thought just occurred in my mind, what if this S uncle suggested that  we travel only the next day morning,and that we would spend the night in a hotel. I immediately chided myself for this thought- felt ashamed of my suspecting a father figure- and besides, this S uncle also had access to free  rail passes- and hence ticket availability would never be a problem.
 Uncannily, things moved just as I had foreseen. At the family friend’s home, he called me aside and told me that  there had been no tickets available for the same night, and since we should not be  burdening the friends, we should put up in a hotel and leave by the early train  next morning. I was aghast. I tried telling him that we could stay in the friend’s place- they were one big family- and they would not mind us staying over for one night but he did not relent. We left that home telling the friends that we were going to the station. On the way, he told the auto driver to detour to a hotel. 

I can’t express the trepidation, the uneasiness that I felt- on one side, it was fear, on another side, a tiny voice telling me that he was after all my S uncle whom I had known since childhood and I should not be thinking of him like a villain.
 We reached the hotel, all I can say, is NOTHING happened- but it was very traumatic- S uncle  was walking around in the room the whole night, talking to himself aloud. I was curled up at one end of the bed, chanting my prayers. Towards early morning, he just embraced me tight- and kept repeating over and over again in my ears-“I shall not do anything to you” , I was so frightened, I somehow managed to tear away and lock myself in the bathroom until it was time to leave.
 I don’t know why we did not take the train the previous night- what had the S uncle  thought- I know nothing, but by next morning- I had become a different person. If something had happened, I know one thing for sure- either I would have become insane by sheer fright- or maybe- I don’t know…
 Anyway, we boarded the train the next morning, reached my grandparents’ home by evening- I did not speak a word, refused to eat any food- and was crying silently throughout the journey. I had just left my parents, and now I did not know how to handle this about  someone whom I had thought was like a father- and someone who had daughters of his own.
 My M aunt who had come to see me off when I left for the Gulf noticed that something was amiss from my face, and asked me if something was wrong and I broke down and told her everything.
 But for years afterwards, I could not face this S uncle- my heart beat would increase, my palms would turn clammy- and I hated the very thought of men.
 But, I did not keep silent, I did tell my folks- my M uncle and M aunt, my grandmother, and then when I went to my parents next time, I told my parents too.
 See, in today’s context perhaps, the incident sounds very harmless, but in my family- girls and boys do not interact freely after a certain age- and staying in the same room for the night was definitely totally uncalled for- and years later, we did get to hear that this S uncle was rather feared by his own female cousins.
 I avoided talking to this S uncle for a long time afterwards, but after several years after my marriage, I did manage to make small talk if absolutely unavoidable. My parents have never been able to forget this incident and have had to behave cordially towards him all the time. And all the time he was fiercely protective of his daughters!!
 Other people think of him as a gentleman, and now that he has passed away, it is sometimes very painful to hear him glorified like he was a true gentleman in every way. His children adore his memory and keep praising him to the skies.
 I think I can say that I have overcome that episode in my life-though I had a tough time while in college, hostel, but I did know that I was not alone, I knew friends who had similar experiences, and sharing and venting helped me a lot in overcoming my anger- it is anger- fury- rage that I feel when I think about such things happening to  anybody – I feel harsh punishment needs to be meted out to such perverts. I am aware that though  I escaped unhurt physically- the mental, emotional trauma was very much  there for a long time. The fear that I underwent that night was harrowing. And of one thing I was sure- tickets / free passes at that were surely available then why??? And another thing, why did I think of such a thing happening even before it happened??
 
   

For want of...

Its been some days since I blogged. Not that I've to meet a deadline or keep a word, yet when I'm at a loss for words - I miss being able to blog-

and as I was blog hopping- I landed into Aruna's lair - and there I found fodder for my blog! I promptly jumped over to find what kind of a personality I was thru the shortest online test and here's what I found out- and whether its true or not- ahhh- who knows- its fun tho- doing these random tests- curiosity factor is optimum- and atleast I can post it!

Your Personality Profile

You are funky, outdoorsy, and down to earth.While you may not be a total hippie...You're definitely one of the most free spirited people around. You are very impulsive - every day is a new adventure.However, you do put some thought behind all your actions.Still, you do tend to shock and offend people from time to time!

The World's Shortest Personality Test

and another thing, whenever I post a new blog the page gets realigned such that one has to scroll all the way down to be able to read them. Sometimes it gets aligned at the top by itself, sometimes, if I republish it over and over again it works and at other times the posts remain stubbornly way down...anybody have any idea how to deal with it- I shall be grateful...

*Tingling with Mortification...

I’m very reluctant to take up the initiative in activities especially in groups. I prefer to linger unobtrusively in the background, the main reason being I’m petrified of committing a blunder and ending up being the cynosure of all disapproving eyes! I get very embarrassed by the ensuing comments- well meaning or otherwise. I tend to feel mortified that I shy away from such occasions that might require my active participation in any way. This hesitation has often been misinterpreted as a non cooperative stance or attributed to sheer laziness.

There have been a few occasions when I’ve summoned the courage to try to do something pro actively either out of compulsion or as a bravado on my part. Mostly, I start off fairly well, but at some point I end up committing some kind of silly mistake. I become painfully conscious of eyes around me- and feel like sinking to the nether world a la- Sita maiyya.

A couple of weeks ago yet again I ventured to help out in a group activity in our colony timidly yet enthusiastically. I seemed to be doing quite ok, and my confidence was slowly building up….alas, some more moments- and there I had done it again! Though everybody was very kind and considerate about my blunder, as usual , I myself was my most unmerciful critic. Hot, embarrassed tears stung my eyes, and I was overwhelmed by the same hopeless sensation in my being. Somehow , I kept mumbling apologies incoherently and made a get away at the next possible moment.

I’m sorely tempted to keep away from such situations again in the future, but like my husband says, I don’t think I should keep running away. I’m no longer a kid who can escape responsibilities ,and at my age , I’m required to do my bit in society and cannot simply shrug off my responsibility… I also realize that this sense of mortification is only within my own mind and the people around me usually do not give it so much of importance. Yeah true, they do have a good, healthy laughter over me but its never in malice. All I need to do is join them in the laughter and keep moving…I’ll get there some day soon-

*p.s: and the title of this blog has been lifted from a sentence in a story "Face on the wall" by E.V.Lucas- was very impressed with the expression and love to use it whenever the oppurtunity presents...and btw, its an engrossing story...

Tagged yet again!

And this time, by Bharath aka bleu…

7 things I wish to do before I die:

1. Read many more books
2. write a few books ( hahaha- whats wrong in dreaming),
3. learn dancing once again,
4. Do my M.A in English Literature, then M.phil, then thesis…(there's no end to dreams)
5. Meet Amitabh Bachchan ( not on KBC)
6. Set up a library- with a humongous collection of books
7. Visit a few places

7 things I do not enjoy doing:

1. Hard work of any kind
2. Attending functions, social do’s
3. Travelling
4. Doing something simply because I’m expected to or supposed to
5. Arguing
6. shopping
7. being in a crowd

7 things that Attracted Me to Blogging:

1. brings me Relief of Expression
2. enjoy Toying with words to bring out my thoughts effectively.
3. Gives me clarity of thought
4. helps me sort things out within myself
5. Seeing my thoughts crystallized into words on the monitor gives me a highenjoy
6. enjoy reading other’s thoughts and expressions.

7. Enjoy interacting with the virtual community

7 things I say most often:

1. “Hayyada"
2. “PPP” – "Palliyil poyi Paranjaal mathi" meaning : go and tell this elsewhere, not to me :-)
3. "Please" “sorry”
4. ‘vere paniyilla’- roughly translated as :“as if I’ve no other work”,this however is used in jest.
5. calling out the names of my DH, sons.
6. I also have a habit of uttering the name of my “ishta deivam”(favourite deity) now and then
7. OK- to indicate I’m listening.

7 Books I like:

1. Roots – Alex Haley
2. Zorba the Greek – Nikos Kazantsakis
3. Parallel Journeys– Anu Majumdar– story of a young Indian dancer and a French architect, whose lives are infiltrated by the journey Maitreyi and Yajnavalkya had undertaken eons ago…
4. Randam OOzham- The second turn -The incidents of the Mahabaharatha from the POV of Bheema- by M.T.Vasudevan Nair
5. Ini njaan Urangatte - (Now, let me sleep!), P. K. Balakrishnan's retrospective account of the Mahabharata from Draupadi's perspective
6. Ente Karnan – Karna’s story by V.T.Nandakumar

7. Bharatha Paryatanam- Voyage thru the Mahabharatha- Kuttikrishna Maraar- critical exposition of the main events in the epic Mahaabhaarata. Maraar questions the subjectivity of Dharma and Adharma, the definition of rights and wrongs


7 Movies I want to watch again (and again and again - more than 7please)

Vijeta ( old-Shashi Kapoor, Rekha, Kunal Kapoor, Supriya Pathak)
Kalyug (old- Shashi Kapoor, Rekha, Raj Babbar, Khulbhushan Kharbhanda, /Anant Nag)
Pyaasa
Parichay
Guddi
Abhimaan
Kaagaz ke phool
Jaane bhi do yaaron
Angoor
Chashme Baddoor
Saahib Biwi aur Ghulam
Jhanak jhanak paayal baaje
Paayal ki jhankaar
Silangai oli
Saptapadi
Pakeeza
Baawarchi
Sound of Music
That touch of Mink
Anand
I’ll stop here, b4 I remember any more

7 pieces of Music I enjoy

1. Bombay Jayasree’s albums
2. Aruna Sairam
3. Uthukkadu krithis
4. M.S’s ‘Jagatho udhaarana’, Maithrim bhajatha…
5. Lata’s hits
6. Asha’s hits
7. Kishore Kumar, Rafi, Mukesh hits


and yet again, I leave the tag open- anyone wishing to do so – pls do, only pls leave a comment, so that I can go check it out- always interesting to gain trivia abt other bloggers…

Shabd- the Movie

This can’t be called a review – its just my response to the film as I watched it- my way of perceiving it…

My Life path number!

Your Life Path Number is 6

Your purpose in life is to help others You are very compassionate, and you offer comfort to those around you.It pains you to see other people hurting, and you do all in your power to help them.You take on responsibility, and don't mind personal sacrifice. You are the ultimate giver. In love, you offer warmth and protection to your partner. You often give too much of yourself, and you rarely put your own needs first.Emotions tend to rule your decisions too much, especially when it comes to love.And while taking care of people is great, make sure to give them room to grow on their own.

What Is Your Life Path Number?

The Eternal Wait

The sound of the approaching train barged into her senses and she was startled out of her stupor. Subconsciously she moved into the “waiting” mode.When she heard the sound of the approaching train, her senses perked up in reflex- she could not unlearn it....read more

The Wall Of Silence

Another dabble at creativity here

Radha Kalyanam

This weekend, we celebrated The “Radha Kalyanam” in our colony. It is actually based on *Jaydevar’s lyrical compositions – Geeta Govindam. The function is conducted over two days just like a real wedding, of course minus the extravagant paraphernalia. This is more of a devotional endeavour comprising of songs from the Geeta Govindam interspersed with abhangs, Bhajans and Keerthans. Devotees may or may not participate/contribute- anyway, the residents of our colony all worked together in harmony…and it felt like one family.

While I’m not specifically into rituals and stuff, I enjoyed the music and singing to the utmost. There are several professional toupes who conduct the Radha Krishna Kalyanam repertoire - and since the last three years we have had different troupes performing this for us. The devotional fervor is mainly built up by the tempo of the music and rhythm and it is difficult to remain unmoved.

On the previous day, the songs from the Ashtapadi are sung, and the proceedings stretch well into the night- there is much dancing- along with the singing- and the steps are fast paced, very graceful while the melody is lilting and moving- the dance is usually just clapping and fast footwork- then Kummi/Kolattom ( very similar to the dandiya/garba) - and only the male devotees usually join the troupe members- the entire atmosphere is charged – this year they invited the women folk to also come forward and dance- and they left the centrestage entirely at our disposal- though we were all a bit reluctant in the beginning, soon most of us were up there dancing for all that we were worth-

Just the previous day, I had lamented on my blog space that Destiny/Almighty had perhaps erased Dance from my life , and the very next evening there I was dancing after a gap of about 20 years- it was like I had never stopped. I just cannot find words to express the euphoria of those magical moments- I was totally disconnected from this world and my feet had found wings- It was an amazing experience for which I’m extremely grateful…

*(From the pages of The Hindu on the web)
The theme of Gita Govindam is the love of Radha Devi and Sri Krishna, symbolizing the longing and striving of the individual, for communion with God, culminating in their blissful union.

Composed by the Orissa poet Jayadeva of the 12th century A.D., it is a richly orchestrated symphony of songs in various ragas set in linked situations featuring the spring-time love-play (vasanta vilaasa) of Lord Krishna, which Raasa Panchaadhyaayi (five chapters on the Raasa dances of Krishna with the Gopis) in the Bhagavatam also speak about, without the character of Radha probably unknown in its time.

Jayadeva was a dedicated devotee of Lord Jagannath, the Deity of Puri, and a disciple of Nimbarka, who founded the Radhavallabha sect, giving prominence to Radha as the loving Consort of the Lord (distinguishable from Lakshmi the Consort of His Omnipotence). The Gita-Govinda arose as a stotra, an offering of devotional music to Lord Jagannath. It is sung as part of the worship-ritual before the Deity and it has also been staged many times as a lyrical dance-drama before interested audiences all over India.

The poem is divided into 12 sargas (marking movements in the love-play of Radha and Madhava) with 24 songs including the first two invocatory stotras of noble praise of Krishna's 10 incarnations. There are only three characters - Krishna, Radha and the girl-friend and messenger between them - figuring in the poem; the songs are distributed between them as their speeches, and the links of the story are provided by slokas (verses) introducing each sarga. The songs form a musical sequence of various ragas of unparalleled sweetness. Their cadences based on alliterations, rhymes, and assonances of words that trip on the tongue delight the lover of poetry, the rasika, as nowhere else. )

Kenjum Salangai....

When I heard that a new teacher had shifted to our colony and she was teaching Bharathanatyam, I thought that perhaps, finally I would get the oppurtunity to dance again...to wear the salangai/ghunghroo aftera long time...

After much hesitation, I summoned the courage to visit her and make enquiries about the classes- and she asked me who was the student- I smiled apologetically said that I was making enquiries for enrolling myself! She was not taken aback, but she said she was taking classes only for school children and would not be able to accomodate me- because she had other classes- Yoga,Craft and she was also working as a choreographer for someTV channel- I came away crestfallen-

I had believed myself to have overcome many disappointments and am mostly contented with what Life has offered me- but as I returned home that day, I realized that I had expected to be able to learn dancing yet again…It did occur to me that wasn’t I too old to still nurture hopes of dancing again? But then where Art is concerned is age a factor? I just want to let go and dance away uninhibitedly to awesome lyrics like “Krishna Nee begane baaro, “enna thavam seythene Yashoda..

I was not keen on going on stage- I only wanted to indulge in my intense passion for Dance…may be Dance has been erased from my Destiny… OK fine, if You’ve not intended it for me anymore…what choice do I have in the matter…May be I’m asking for too much?? I submit myself to Your will…


ennatavam seydanai yasOda (http://www.geocities.com/promiserani2/c1007.html)
raagam: kaapi
22 kharaharapriya janya
Aa: S R2 M1 P N3 S
Av: S N2 D2 N2 P M1 G2 R2 S
taaLam: aadiComposer: Paapanaasam Shivan
Language: Tamil

pallavi
enna tavam sheidanai yasOdA
engum nirai parabhrammam
ammAvenr-azhaikka(enna tavam)

anupallavi
IrEzu bhuvanangaL paDaittavanaik-kaiyil Endi
shIrATTi pAlUTi tAlATTa nI (enna tavam)

caraNam 1
bhramanum indranum manadil porAmai koLLa
uralil kaTTi vAi pottik-kenjavaittAi tAyE(enna tavam)

caraNam 2
sanakAdiyar tava yOgam sheidu varundi
sAdhittadai punita mAdE eLidil pera (enna tavam)


What penance was it that Yashoda performed..
That she was destined to be your Mother?
That He who is the Lord of The Universe called her "amma"

she who was the chosen One to
hold You, caress You, feed You
You who created the Universe...

If Even Lord Brahma, Lord Indra envies her...
She who tied Him to the mortar,
She who bid Him to silence
She who had Him beg for mercy..
Then what can one say about you and me?
Indeed what penance did She perform- she Yashoda...

Saints and Rishis have undergone severe penances
to get a glimpse of Him...
And she a simple, pious woman attained this Supreme Blessing so easily?
What penance is it that Yashoda performed
That he called her "amma"....

I've been tagged....

Ok, the plus is that this time I don’t have to think abt “what" to write abt in my blog space- becos sometimes I don’t have anything to write and yet I ‘want' to…

Hmm... so arundhati has tagged me- and this one seems “hatke” from the usual tags that I’ve seen floating in cyberspace…

Am supposed to :

1. Come up with 8 different points of my idea of a perfect lover.

2. Need to mention the sex of the target.

3. Tag 8 victims to join this game and leave a comment on their comments saying they’ve been tagged.

4. If tagged the 2nd time, there’s no need to post again.

Perfect “Lover” Target “Male”

“lover”…hmmm…”hemm…haw…errrr- now what is the exact connotation of this word in this context?

1. The first thing that occurs to me is the eyes! Not exactly the physical shape/colour- but the look in the eyes that come at certain moments!

2.Sense of Humour- pulling my legs- teasing me- all in fun- making me blush-
And also guffawing at my wit- nice loud, rich, full throated laughter..

3.Kindness, compassion, fun - when interacting with people, Respect and care when interacting with elders, Mischief and affection while with children.

4.Singing for /to me…

5.Pampering me when I’m unwell, sad…and revelling, enjoying my fussing and pampering too …

6.Spontaineity in expressions

7.Absolutely forgiving with no retention and revision of pending accounts.

8. And of course integrity, sincerity and honesty of character would be very important because for me to love completely and wholly, I need to be able to respect too…


Hey that was easy- I was not sure what I could come up with when I started with this…easy perhaps because I happen to know someone who is exactly like this:-)


And abt tagging- well, I’m inviting anybody to go ahead who feels like doing this- becaue I can't make up my mind abt whom to tag!! But do let me know…why? Obviously because I’d love to read their idea abt a perfect lover!

Wait....

To a friend who left...

Hear me please...

some lines that I scribbled on an impulse after seeing the raging waves of The Kaveri when we had floods here where we live- Hear me Please

Smart BUT Stupid...

Had always pondered as to how smart or stupid I was...finally the suspense is over- I discovered that i was smart but stupid...phew- now i can sleep easy...thanks to Punds from whose page I stumbled into the test page!

Ardra Darshanam

The last 2 days were busy- it was Annual day functions at the puttars' school- elder one was a volunteer helping with the seating arrangements, vehicle parking and welcoming guests- it's his last year in this school- he'll be appearing for his Xth board exams this March...

The younger one was acting in a drama- in which he had to wear "panchgajam"- a dhoti worn like pyjamas- sport a "kudumi"- tuft of hair at the back- the play was good and all the children did well-

Today is "Thiruvathira"- "Ardra Darshanam"- sighting the star Ardra - a festival for ladies.

In Kerala, the ladies on this day undertake a special fast/diet - avoiding all rice items- only wheat/semolina is taken -I think it is actually something similar to "karva chauth"of the north.
In traditional households, the women ( all hear say only- no direct experience) go together at midnite to the temple tanks to have their bath-singing folk songs- they literally splash the water ( thudikkuka) as a part of the ritual- partake of abt 108 betel leaves- wear the "dashapushpam" or "paathirappovu"- a set of ten herbs and flowers on their hair- then dance the "Thiruvathirakkali"- in the "sunken courtyard"- the nadumittom -a folk dance form- similar to the Gujrati garba and Kolaattom/kummi of Tamilnadu - very lilting and rhythmic- the footwork is graceful and simple- there are clockwise and anti clockwise movements, clapping of hands . The songs are rustic and simple based on folk tales and mythology.

They stay awake the whole night -look out for the star "ardra"-The idea is praying for the health and long life of the husbands!

One legend goes something like this: Godess Parvathi's dear friend becomes a widow on her wedding night and she goes to Parvathy to bemoan her fate- Parvathy coerces Lord Shiva to resurrect her friend's husband- and Shiva has no choice but to give in – so it kind of celebrates victory over Death-

Another Legend says that Parvati performed severe penance to win Shiva as her husband. Very much pleased with her penance, Shiva appeared before her and promises to take her as his wife. This promise was made on the day of Thiruvathira star of the month of Dhanu- which is also said to be the birth star of Lord Shiva. . Therefore on this day, married and unmarried woman perform dance as a ritual. The married, for the well being of their husband and the unmarried, for acquiring a good husband.

While I've never been one for rituals as such- I did not take rice today -made semiya upma in the morning- wheat semolina for lunch- with roots, pulses and tubers prepared with coconut for the side dish -and delicious arrow root halwa- DH who had taken leave for studying for an exam he has to appear on sunday- helped me with the cooking-it turned out great- we gave generous shares to our friends in the colony- and I have no compunctions in praying for my husband's health and long life- I do that daily anyway :-)

Farewell to Kalamandalam Hyderali...

A singer who succeeded in carving a niche in a predominantly temple/Hindu Classical art form- He had to surmount several hurdles to emerge successful- he had to face numerous obstacles and prohibitions in his chosen profession but eventually he was appreciated, admired by his listeners and Kathakali art lovers…

And when on Jan 5th 2006, he met with a fatal accident- all Kathakali art lovers all over the world were shocked-

When amma called me to tell abt Kalamandalam Hyderali’s accident, I couldn’t and didn’t want to believe it- the scenes they showed on TV- snaps shots of his interviews, singing- it was shocking!
While my uncles knew him personally, I had only heard and seen him sing on the dais during my annual vacations when I went to Kottakkal for the Ulsavam- and to think next year- he wouldn’t be there- it is a loss for his fans, Kathakali Music- and those who knew him personally….

Wayside Views...

Another creative yarn woven from distant memories

here:

warning: this one is a translation of my first full length blogging attempt in Malayalam, and perhaps a handful of those who come here have already read that one...

Borrowing Inspiration

waiting to get inspired...
its very rare that i get down to write something purely out of inspiration from within.. the words usually flow only as a spill out after reading somebody else's composition- I've no idea as to metre- verse- its just more of a haphazard flow of emotions that have been evoked from reading someone else's thoughts...and hence its possible that my words deviate onto a track of their own different from what the original writer/poet intended- some words, images create a response within me depending on my attitude/perception/ mood of the moment...and then I feel like jotting the resultant thoughts...hope its not illegal! let me know if it is... :-)

Borrowed Inspiration