Silent Tears

without intent to harm
the mischief was done

ideas of much right
have come so wrong

all acts of duty but
clouding the emotions

shattered dreams are
all that but remain

the sane mind kindles
a feeble spark of hope

but the prick of thorn
was deep inside gone

thorn has off fallen
but the wound does pain

tears of anger, hatred
come again and again

Child's play

It's all about advertising. Any creator is pleased to see her/his creations reaching a large audience and also being well received. But the for the latter to happen, the former has to happen first! In this crazy blog world, you see bloggers getting up all kinds of tactics to get their blogs noticed by the world. Tagging is a favorite method in which you get free advertising! Well, I'm jumping in the wagon (why not!) with this childish but funny(in a way) tagging game, where I was tagged by preethika - the sugar n spice girl ;-)
All you're needed to do is to add your name to the end of the list. The rules are that
You shouldn't use any colors
You should add only a short description
You shouldn't change anything else in the tags.
And there's also a way out where you can let others know that you're not interested in this crap by saying 'No' :-)

Here goes
1.-Filipina,2.-Stories,3.-Abroad,4.-Husband,5.Gagiers, 6. Life 7. Everything, 8. Offer, 9. Moments, 10. Food Trip 11. World 12. suffering 13.china's autograph 14.Kiran's My voice15. Boobu 16.Sugar & Spice 17. ~*Girl of Destiny*~ 18. -you-

I now pass on the torch to
Nivi
Tamizh
Bala


Happy Tagging folks!

The point of no return

I was watching Friends yesterday when I came upon this bit where Joey tells Rachel how hard it was for him to love her and not have her love him back. Ah! The Unrequited Love (with intentional capitals!). It makes me feel all squishy squashy inside.
This concept is a very, very popular idea with writers and authors. It is one that is sure to pull at the heart strings. It is tragic. It is painful. It is sentimental. It generates sympathy. It also generates selling stories!!!
I mean, who does not feel bad for Charlie Brown when he sees his 'little red-haired girl' ? Who does not feel bad for Joey when he hugs Rachel after cujo?? Look how great it sounds in stories!Look how much revenue it generates!!!
But seriously, isn't it very sad? As long as it's on screen, you can just go along with it and then forget it after the show. But when it hits you in real life? I know a few of my friends who've been thru' the same stuff. Their misery was very painful to behold. But you are helpless. How do you help someone with their unrequited love?
I first had a taste of this myself a couple of years back when my heartthrob on screen got married to his girlfriend!(How pathetic am I? to fall in love with a film star!).
Though I've always held the belief that the heart's just a pump and so it can't think, it was then that I realised that feelings can give you actual physical pain and this pain is kinda centered around the heart area. If it's your mind that's doing the thinking, why is the pump getting affected?
Though the concept maybe as old as time, the questions that it leaves are unanswerable.

Well, as one who has passed this unrequited love phase, I can safely say that it's great while it lasts. And it's not that hard to get over it once it's over. And when you look back, it sure makes some great memories!
Then again, maybe I was able to get over it pretty easily since all I had to love was a movie star, for pete's sake! It may be a lot harder for a real person, though I wouldn't know that. But I have a feeling that it'll be pretty hard but not impossible to get over with!

Of course it's a Small World!

About 6 years back:
I meet this guy in my college. A senior. We become friends. He makes a stipulation that I call him not by name but 'Anna'. I wasn't used to calling any non-relative 'anna'. Still I acquiesce. No reason why.
We become pretty good friends soon.

A few years later:
We figure out that we both share the same hometown and same family name. He tells me, 'There's a high probability that we might be related'. 'Maybe', I tell him. End of topic.

A few months back:
I meet him and another friend at their house. His friend shows me pictures of a new beautiful temple. He holds a significant postion in the Temple Trust. He offers to help any relatives of mine who might plan to visit the temple. I tuck away this little piece of information.

A few months later:
A big bunch of my relatives plan to visit this temple. I offer them my friend's number. He helps them with arrangements.

At the temple:
An aged relative comes upto my mother, "A person offered to help me too. I did not ask him since you are making this arrangement".
"Oh who is your contact?", asks my mom.
"My nephew's son's friend. He's working in b'lore. But he is part of the Temple Trust".
Mom pricks her ears, "What is his name?"
"..... ", she replies with his name.
"Oh even I arranged through him. He is my daughter's friend. Oh wait, is your nephew's son by any chance .... ?" here she names my 'anna'.
"Oh yes", came the astonished reply.
The talk then went on to the much happy planes of figuring out mutual relatives.

In the evening:
"Listen, a funny thing happened at the temple today", mom tells me the entire story.
I was extremely excited. " So he really is my brother?"
Mom explains the link.
"Oh I get it," I'm grinning, "He is your chithi's sister-in-law's grandson! And that makes him my chitappa's son. (oh yea I'm pretty good in these ;-) ) A real Anna!! This is cool!"

All excited, I call him up, wanting to share this extraordinary news. 'This number is switched off'. Great.
I mail him, 'Got some really interesting revelation to tell you. Call me when free'. My mail was peppered with exclamation marks.

He coolly mails the reply , 'That you are related to me? I already told you there's a high probability'.
That's the extent of excitement.
Hmph...My brother.

Keeping it short

'Why don't you write about short temper?' the SMS from Nivi blinked at me.
'What? Short temper? Why?' I asked her.
'Just like that' came the reply.
What does one write about short temper? I was wondering. Then it stuck me! I can actually write lots about it. I interact daily with extremely short tempered people. I also have my own fair share of it. So I was well qualified to write something about it!
Well here goes.

So a person is short tempered. Let's forget the why of it. You are talking to that person and their temper begins to act up. How do you react?

Firstly, don't lose yours. Next bring to your mind the adage on dogs barking at the sun. But be clear on the role definition - you do the shining and they do the barking. This basically boosts up your ego and elevates your self worth. It'll make you think that it is unnecessary to lower yourself and bark back. It also helps you to view them in a detached cynical manner and pity them for hiking up their blood pressure. The hotter they become, the cooler you will be. At no point of the conversation let yourself get involved. Maintain a purely observatory position. The barking will run its course and then die a natural death.
If you have any replies to give them, do it when they have no more energy to bark.

Right! But what if it is you who is doing the yelling? If you are a person with a chronic case of short temper-itis, never fear, cure is near! Whenever you feel like yelling, tell yourself those two admirable words - Shut up! If you're not the kind of person who listens to your own advice, well then leave the place. Just walk out. If that ain't possible, then drink something. Anything to seal your lips.

Practice clamping your mouth shut tight whenever you feel the symptoms of this illness. Do something that takes your mind off the situation at hand. Music is a good choice. Going out for a drive or a walk is another fine option. Come back after your pressure levels are low and then you're ready to tackle the sitation in a calm and collected manner.

The advantage of short temper is that it is...well.. short! The foul mood doesn't last long. But the effects of letting it out will. So be sure not to react when you feel all heated up.
Use these prescriptions well, you'll be cured soon!

Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?

A very famous interview question. Usual answers to this question are "I see myself running my own company / heading a division / etc etc". Correct answers? I'm not so sure.
Can you really see yourself down the lane? I, for one, have absolutely no concrete idea of what I will be doing ten - no! why go so far? - one year from now.
This question is a favorite topic of debate between me and a friend of mine. He's all for setting a clear goal and working, nay, slaving towards it. He goes up in an apoplexy to hear people (like yours truly) say "Whatever Life throws at me, I'm happy to live with it". His argument is that that is the motto of the weak. His idea is not to take life but to make it (not his words - my own!). It must feel very important to live like that, and feel very purposeful, striding towards the one goal!
Well, we happy-go-lucky creatures have a goal too. It's pretty simple actually. It is to be Happy! To feel at the end of the day that this day in my life was fun!
We can acclimatize ourselves to all that comes our way. We are definitely not losing our own sense of individuality in the process. No, we are just molding our minds to make the best of the situation. We are the chameleons of the humankind.
Would you call us pessimists, unwilling to be ambitious for fear we may never reach it? Or would you call us lazybones, refusing to look beyond today? Would you call us scaredy-cats, not having enough guts to go fight the world?
We are just people who want to live one day at a time. Would that make us realists? Maybe. We are optimists, who always have a hope that 'today was great and tomorrow will be better'. We are not lazy, we just want to deal with tomorrow when it comes and not today. We are not scared, we are just peace lovers.
We sail along in life, not too happy and not too sad. But calm and contented. Since our goal is so simple, nothing can beat us. Any drastic change in circumstances may pose a tiny setback of course, but we are soon back in the game, in all our glory. Setbacks interest us, they are but a game. We may be down but never out!

In praise of the...egg!

The wonder of Life can be felt in all of creation, the smallest and the largest. It can be felt in a mighty mountain or in a tiny grass blade. As Clarence Day profoundly observed,

Oh who that ever lived and loved

Can look upon an egg unmoved?

The Egg is the symbol of life. It symbolizes life in a nutshell, or rather in an eggshell.
The egg symbolizes the beginning. How we begin our lives inside a protective covering. We are kept warm and shielded from the harsh realities of the outer world. And when we are ready to face the world, it is we who crack the shell open.
The egg symbolizes the power of God. The egg is the origin for all. All of living things originate in the egg. By being a part of such an innocent question as “Which came first? The Chicken or the Egg?” it shows us that even simple things in life may have obscure origins. Even with our much prided advances in Science, this question has baffled scientists and philosophers alike. Some facts of life have to be just accepted for what they are. Not everything can be explained.
From an egg so small, rises a man so high. The egg so symbolizes that whatever heights might a man reach in his life, he should always keep in mind his humble origin. Albeit small, the egg holds inside an entirely new life. This just goes to show that we should never judge anyone or anything based on appearance.
The egg also teaches us to worship that Godlike creature, our mother. For it is she who performs the divine task of rearing and protecting us when we are but an egg.
Next time an egg reaches your dinner plate, take a moment to pay the due respects!

Hide and Seek!

Chitra's post on crying triggered my long-thought-about ideas on hiding your feelings of unhappiness from others' eyes.
Most of us wish to present to the world a strong outer crust. We are hard, our armor is impenetrable. We express our happiness oh-so-joyously to the world. Fear of appearing weak makes us hide our sadness deep inside. Crying is generally attributed to a weak nature. All that's fine. But how many people actually carry this through? I would say one in a million.
Most of the tough ones feel at one time or the other, like Rose of Titanic, that they are 'in a room, surrounded by people and that they are screaming at the top of their voice and nobody even hears them'. The breaking point is, then, very near. Soon the floodgates will be opened, with a mighty flood to follow.
And the disappointment at finding out that you are not as strong willed as you assumed yourself to be, adds to the pain.
So is it really for the best - this practice of hiding our mournful feelings? I would say no. All the misery inside us needs an outlet. Coming to terms with the misery primarily needs a deep introspection. Calm objective reflection helps us to understand the misery and its cause. And most of the times, even a way out. If our own mind cannot be counted upon to help us, that's when a 'shoulder to cry on' comes as a godsend.
Generally people who appear strong and bottle up their feelings inside tend to be good listeners. So, in turn, they make good shoulders. But we need to understand that that shoulder is connected to a mind too and it will also have its own share of burden to carry.
Not all of us are lucky enough to find that shoulder. But once we find it, we need to be very careful that we do not use that shoulder only to cry on. Sometimes that shoulder will need an another.
But it does not pay to be too open about your feelings either. Others perceive you as a complaining miserable crybaby. But lets not even talk about the people who go about flaunting their misery. Their sadness doesn't even measure up to the word.
So is it really for the best - this practice of hiding our mournful feelings? I would say yes, it is good to hide your feelings from the eyes of all others if you are willing to show them to yourself. If you are strong enough to handle the tremendous pressure on your own.
Happiness shared is multiplied and sadness shared is divided. The catch lies in finding the right people to share them with!

What do you see in the mirror?

For a human, looking at the mirror is as habitual as eating. It is an everyday occurence and for some, every hour!
When you check your mirror, what do you see? I mean, after checking your dress, hair, makeup etc. Beyond that. What do you see?
Did you ever look at a mirror and wonder how you might appear to others?
Sound weird? It is. It feels weird too. Atleast it did, when I tried to look at the person in the mirror as I would look at a stranger. I began to feel scared. I use 'scared' here for want of a better word. The feeling may be better explained as one of haunting bewilderment. But I did. It felt like I did not know the person in the mirror. That scared me because I always prided on the knowledge that none knew me better than I. But here, apparently, I'm not what I thought myself to be!
Does that sound crazy?
Let me illustrate with an example.
I have this complete obsession with straight hair. Be it man or woman, whenever I behold a head with straight hair spewing out of it, I immediately feel the little green monster in me arise. I personally do not have a great opinion about my own bunch (why else would there be the green monster!) At the best comparison, I would call myself Medusa-ic.
What really incenses me is having those lucky buggers with straight hair come upto me and go gushing "Oh I wish I had your beautiful curly/wavy(according to them) hair. Oh your hair is so much more lovelier than mine!!"
Can't they see the snakes of Medusa? Incidents like these led me to the mirror experiment.
Does everyone feel weirdly scared when they keep staring at their own reflection for a long time? I once shared my mirror experience with my cousin who (to my utter surprise) immediately responded with a "You too??". Oh it was so heartening to know that I wasn't alone in the bandwagon. But probably it only runs in the family.
Has this ever happened to you? If not in the past, I invite you now to take a good long look at yourself and tell me what you feel!

Answering Antony's Call

Did you ever wonder why Antony asked his buddies to 'Lend him their ears' ? Why couldn't he have said 'Listen to me folks' ? OK not folks. Just 'Listen to me'. But no! The reason why he wanted them to 'lend their ears' is that he wants their complete attention. How many people lend us their ears when we talk? How many times do we lend our ears?
So far as I have seen, based on the people I've met, we can loosely classify the Listeners into

The Genuines
These are the people who actually evince an interest in what you have to say. You like prolonging the conversation with them. Though they may not always provide insightful responses, you leave them with contentment - that you have been listened to.

The Hasty
These people already know what you are going to say, even before you say it. Jumping to conclusions is their favorite sport. They make tiring and difficult listeners.

The Pretenders
They profess an interest in what you have to say, their entire countenance spells "Listening" in large capitals and you are encouraged to continue your discourse. All the while, their busy mind is working on another tangent, with complete disregard for what you are saying.

The Hopeless
These are the people who are so completely wrapped up in their own selves that it is hard for them even to listen to your simple 'I am going to the laundry'. Anything that is not uttered by their own lips is considered irrelevant, foolish and a terrible waste of words.

Of course, these groups are not mutually exclusive. Everyone donns one mantle or the other in different circumstances.

Listening to someone wholeheartedly is a very, very tough job - initially. But it is a talent that can be cultivated very easily with interest. Here are some pointers that may help you listen well.

-Start any conversation with an interested and receptive mind. If you do not have one, stop it right there.
-Look at them when they talk. Their body language helps you with listening.
-Try to put yourself in their place. Helps you understand why they are saying the things they do.
-Have the patience to hear them out. Wait till the end of their talk to give a response.
-If you have neither time nor inclination to listen to them, tell them! Suggest that they come to you some other time.
-Understand why they are telling you this. If you do not, ask them first. Be clear in what is expected of you.

They say be a sponge while listening. Don't. Just one squeeze may let it all out. Instead be like the dry earth which absorbs rain.
The next time Mark Antony asks for your ears, you can easily respond with a 'Here you go fella'!

Does God Exist?

The debate over the existence of God has, for a long time, been a continuous and an interesting one. When answering this question, however, it is imperative that we have the knowledge of the subject, that is, God. What exactly is meant by this three-letter word? The connotations that this word brings to the minds of different people are countless.

People who assiduously follow the teachings of their religion believe that God is the Supreme Being, one who has the powers to create, destroy and protect the world and all its elements. Different religions give different shapes to this Supreme Being. For some, God is anthropomorphic. For some, God takes the shape of a tree, or a stone. Some others believe that God has no shape. But they’re all unanimous on the point that God is the one responsible for all creations. And by long practice, generally God is given the pronoun of ‘He’.

The believers contend that God is the reason behind all existence. Their argument is that for every creation there must be a reason, there must be a source, there must be a prototype. And these are provided by none other than God. God is the reason that Earth is round. He is the reason that leaves are green. A very high intelligence is needed to create something as complex as a human brain. This high intelligence is attributed to none other than God. An extremely high intelligence is needed to create zillions of different kinds of species, plants, minerals, elements and all that goes into creating the Earth as we know it. Only God, they say, is capable of such a feat.

Physicists attribute the reason for Earth’s shape to Gravity. Botanists attribute to pigments and chlorophyll and light reflection, the reason that leaves are green. And evolution is how humans are created, assert scientists.

While the believers may say that God is the reason for Gravity, the non-believers on the other hand, choose to believe that the reason stops with Gravity and does not go beyond that - to God. Such a debate is endless. But one underlying factor is common to both the sides – it is the existence of power or energy that is beyond human. An example of this power in this case can be Gravity. What atheists call Gravity, the religious lot call God.

The believers choose to attach a shape to this power. The shape enables them to visualize their Supreme Being. An invisible Supreme Being is in many cases unsettling and inadequate. When they want to worship their Supreme Being but know not what or where to worship, it creates confusion in their minds. A tangible image is reassuring to them. They are now clear what to worship. Their religion teaches them how to worship this image. They follow the path set to them by their elders. The vague inquietude arising from their daily interactions with others is dispelled when they worship this Supreme Being.

There are some other believers who do not attach any shape to their God, but have the ability of seeing their God in all images they behold. They do not need a place of worship or a shape to worship. They see God in their minds. They are well content worshipping God in places of their own choice and images of their own preference. They achieve the inner peace and quiet in their own methods of worship.

God, for every one of the believers, is a being who has the power and the benevolence to soothe a disturbed mind, to ease the pain, to help them learn kindness and to live in peace and goodwill. God is the feeling of happiness and peace instilled in them. This feeling arises for them when they worship their images of God. For the non-believers, this feeling arises when they are doing something they’re most passionate about, something that they love doing, something that gives them extreme pleasure. Like when they hear music or when they see beautiful sights of nature or when they’re helping another human to live.

The feelings evoked in the minds of humans when they think about this Supreme Being or a Supreme Power is the same for both the believers and the non-believers. An extreme feeling of happiness, a joy in being alive and thankfulness for the experience.

While the non-believers do not attach any name for this power, the believers choose to call the power as God.
As uttered by Shakespeare’s Juliet,

….that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;

The same holds good for God too. The power is the same. The only difference is in what people call it. God does exist, in the minds of people.

What, you don't worry?

That will be the surprised rejoinder Alfred E. Newman will get now for his favorite phrase, if he were to talk to the same people I talk to.

When you take a slightly different path than the well-trodden one, when you are not following the same stream, when you do not go by the popular conventional methods, people who are so solicitously enquiring after your health and wellness have already decided that you must be miserable in your new walk of life. Any assertions on your part that you're actually enjoying yourself on this new journey leaves these people doubting your word.

They shoot probing questions at you, determined to find the real you unhappy.
They of course don't ask ouright, but you can easily imagine them saying, "How the heck can you profess to be happy?", "Why are you pretending my child? Why don't you come clean and accept that you're living a sorrowful existence now?", and more in the same vein. There's some kind of an undetected sadistic pleasure these folks enjoy, that makes them sit back in contentment to see their opinions come true, however negative they may be.

Just because someone has done something unexpected, does it automatically have to follow that they cannot be happy doing that? No! But it's as hard for people to change their preconceived notions as a leopard its spots! If its a rule, it must be right! There's no argument about it. Much the same way, if you're different, you must be a weirdo. There's something not real about you!

People, wake up!!! Nothing's the same, ever.

Souls in Torment

All I wanted was a haircut.

The stylist at the salon asked me which style would I prefer. No preference, I said. Whichever you think will suit me, do it, I said.

I sat down expecting scissors on my hair. I got shampoo.
Which was followed by a conditioner. Which was followed by a massage done with some nameless liquid.

Then came the cutting. After the cut was over, she asked which setting would I prefer, normal, straight or curls. There is only one answer to this question, always. It's straight everytime.

She started brushing and drying my tendrils. Then sprayed it with another nameless liquid. When she was through, I could not believe at the apparition in the mirror in front of me. My normally dry, half-curly, fly away hair was transformed into a thing of beauty! In place of my usual bird's nest, I now had a thick sheet of glistening tresses!

'Oh! to be rich and be pampered like this everyday', I sighed, for this operation, dreamy as it was, had considerably lightened my purse...

I thought I was finished with my job at the salon. But no, not with my best friend by my side, egging me on to 'shape my eyebrows'.

I've had this told to me by a large multitude. You can always spot them. These people have the welfare of your brows in their hearts. They're the ones who look keenly at your brows when talking to you. You even start sweating under their close scrutiny. The verdict is always the same. "You have such nice thick eyebrows, why don't you shape them? they'll look more beautiful".
Note the 'nice' and the 'more beautiful'. It's never "shape your eyebrows, they look terrible now". They always aim at the betterment of good brows!

So I thought, 'why not?'.
'Shape my brows', I told her. I ignored the death knells. My mistake.
What followed was pure torture. It was like my brows were being scraped off with sandpaper.

Another operation in the same Spanish Inquisition trend is this thing called waxing. It's when they first pour hot wax on you. Then they apply strips of cloth on it, and pull it up in one fast flick of their wrist. You feel like strips of your skin are being peeled away.

The most horrifying fact about these agonies is that these are a continuous process. Why would girls deliberately go through this torture? It was beyond my comprehension until I did the same. The answer is simple. It's hair. It keeps growing back, with a vengeance. You are forced to become a waxing-addict.

Lesson learnt: 'Beauty' is painful.

Disclaimer: By 'Beauty' here I mean the much-hyped idea of it. The idea that only shaped eyebrows and waxed hands are beautiful and the non-shaped and the non-waxed are just shaggy!

The Soothsayer

It was at the Mahabalipuram shores. The Fortune-Teller came up to us, armed with his parrot and the tarot cards. The Fortune-Teller was a slim man with bright beady eyes. He had the holy ash and sandalwood paste smeared on his forehead. He wore a faded shirt and a bright orange dhoti which lent color to his outfit.
"Want your futures seen madam?", he asked of us.
My sister wanted her young son to experience it. The little one was made to sit in front of the man, with the cards spread on a mat between them. The man called out to his parrot, a shaggy thin creature, to come and pick a card. The bird, however, took its time to come out of its cage. The man looked at my sister and said, "Please keep 10 rupees down on the mat".
As soon as she did, the bird came out and started its routine.
'Now that was interesting!', I thought to myself. I could've kept my loud mouth shut, but no! I had to pull my smarty-pants act there.
Out loud I said, "Well, your parrot seems to be very business-minded". The family did the laughing.
The man looked up at me and mumbled, "No, no, nothing like that...", he trailed off.
The routine was acted out. The man asked my nephew, "What's your name, little boy?"
"Vikram", came the shy reply.
"Come on out my dear, and pick a card for this boy named Vikram, come and tell us how his future is going to be. Vikram is the name. Tell us the happy future of Vikram", he crooned to his parrot.
The parrot picked out a card after rejecting many. The man delivered his usual spiel. He also suggested some do's and don't's. Some of his recitals coincided with reality. Then the boy was asked to pick a card on his own. The oration followed and wound to its natural end.
We were pleased and that was the end.
Or so we thought.
Now he asked us again. "Anybody else want to have their futures foretold?"
We all smilingly shook our heads. Atleast that was what I was doing until I realised that my sister was looking at me. "Do you want to have a go?".
I shook my head again, smiling.
The chant was taken up by others, the man included. "Go on, have a try", was the general cry.
"Alright", I succumbed. And sat in front of the cards. I put the 10 rupee note down.
"What's your name madam?", he queried.
"Mathi", I said.
"Mathiarasi", said my sister.
"Come on out my dear, and pick a card for this lady named Mathiarasi, come and tell us how her future is going to be. Mathiarasi is the name. Tell us the happy future of Mathiarasi", he again crooned to his parrot.

We all waited.
And waited.
The stupid parrot did not budge.
He crooned again.
The parrot refused to come out. I watched in growing fascination.
He asked me, "Is there another name for you? What do your friends and family call you?"
I replied, "Mathi".
He now repeated his crooning routine with 'Mathi' in place of 'Mathiarasi'.
There was no response from the parrot.
"Maybe we should try with someone else madam", he said in a doubtful tone.
My cousin leaned in and said, "Try Vijayalakshmi"
"Is that your name madam?", he asked her.
"Yes", she nodded.
The crooning was repeated now with 'Vijayalakshmi'. He had hardly finished his call, when out came the parrot like it was waiting and started to go through the cards!
"That's unfair, how dare you do that?", I mock-yelled at the parrot.
He tried to placate by saying something about 'these things happen for a reason madam we can't control them' and so on.
My family was fascinatedly laughing. I got up and made place for my cousin.
Her fortune-telling was over.
The man now looked up at me quizzically and asked, "Don't you believe in this, madam?"
I shook my head again, smiling, "No"
"Maybe that is why. I'd like to try it once more Madam. I feel bad that such a thing happened for you. I'd like to see your future. Please don't think it's a waste of 10 rupees. Please try again. But this time, before we start, please think of your favorite God".
"I don't have one", I told him.
"You don't have one? Which God do you worship", he asked.
"I don't worship any God", was my rejoinder.
He did not give up.
"Won't you think of any God when you begin some work?", he asked again.
I shook my head, which had become a much repeated gesture!
"Not even your mother and father?", he asked determinedly.
"Well, I don't worship any shape. All I have is a belief in a superior power", I told him.
"Well that's good", he smiled satisfied."Please think of something before we begin", he bade me.
I racked my brains to think of something....anything... But you know how it is. When you want to think about one single thing, your mind either goes blank or you think about a million things at the same time. Mine was the former case.
He could wait no longer. He had started the crooning, with 'Mathi' this time.
And now, the tricky parrot came zooming out of its cage, zeroed in on a card, thrust it into his hands and zoomed back.
I was a little hurt. I looked at it and asked, "That's it? I don't get the full performance? Just the climax?"
That was the cue for our man to start his speech in all its glory.
"The parrot reflects your mind. You took a long time to make up your mind about this. The parrot did the same. But when you had made up your mind you do not delay in action. The same case with the parrot. It took the card correctly for you."
Here he opened the card to show a picture of Lord Vishnu.
"What a lucky card for you madam! You have got the card of Vishnu, the God who has powers to both create and to destroy. You will be powerful in your actions too.
The depth of the sea can be measured even, but it will be very hard to know what is in the depths of your mind.
Other people can fry bajjis in oil, but you madam, can fry them even in water.
You may be a normal girl in your birth house, but you will be the Mahalakshmi of your husband's house.
If your husband hits you with his hand, you have the ability to hit him with your words. And that will hurt him more.
Most of the confusions and unhappiness that were preying on your mind would have vanished slowly. The birth of January is a very good time for you. If you have any belief in it, please go to a Vinayagar temple and give him a garland of grass."
I was grinning widely all through his oration. When he came to the frying bajjis bit, all my family started grinning excitedly.
I was now asked to pick a card. I picked one. He opened it to show the picture of Lord Vinayaga.
"See madam, do you need more proof? I just now told you that you should visit Vinayagar Temple and now you pick a card with His picture on it. Please madam, if you have belief in it, do go and present Him with the garland of grass. You have good times ahead of you", I was now smiling uncontrollablely. He looked up at me and said, "And you can conquer others with that smile of yours".
That did it.
I laughed outright. Not at him though. I was impressed despite my beliefs. He had achieved what he had set out to do. Even if nothing else, he was a good salesman and a showman. The 10 rupees was well spent!
I may or may not have had this entertaining show for my benefit if only I had kept my mouth shut when he began his show. So being a loud-mouthed smarty pants does help sometimes!!!

இருளும் நீ

அமாவாசை கும்மிருட்டு..
கதைகளில் அது ஒரு திகில் இரவு,
எனக்கோ அன்று உந்தன் நினைவு.
கண்ணுக்கு புலப்படாது அந் நிலவு,
ஆயினும் மறைந்துவிடவில்லை அது.
அந்நிலவைப் போலவே, என் நிலவு நீ.

The big flop show dinner at Elliot's

Dinner on the shores of Elliot's beach. Sounds great? It did for us too. The first time we tried this was when we bought pizzas and took them to the beach. Sitting on the sands, with the waves lapping in front of us, it was a great experience!

We were eager to repeat the experience. Getting burgers and fries from a tiny beachfront shop, we went and sat on the sands of Elliot's. With a full moon shining down on us, digging our feet into the cool sand, we munched our burgers in a very companionable silence. I turned my eyes from the always lovely moon to the sea...and was met by a pair of cold canine eyes. The dog was giving us a malevolent stare (or so we felt). We felt very uncomfortable with the burger in our hands. The dog was soon joined by one of its mates and now we had two pairs of steely eyes looking at us hungrily. We felt that two girls were no match for those two mongrels.

Our fright was greater than our hunger. Gathering our bags as quickly as possible, we walked all the way back, clutching the half eaten burgers and made our way to the low parapet wall seperating the beach from the road. We settled ourselves and resumed the munching. Imagine our consternation when we realised that one of the mongrels had followed us all the way! The hungry party was joined by another dog and these two walked back and forth behind us. Again we felt to be in a very vulnerable position and decided to drive to the other end of the beach where we had had our dinner last time in relative peace!

On the other side of the beach, we settled ourselves on the parapet and took about two munches of the now-soggy burgers. We heard drunken shouts and laughter behind us and turned to see four very drunken men advancing erratically towards the parapet. The dogs were less scarier. We fled! ....Again.

We drove a little way farther and parked our bike in a well lit area, but not before checking carefully to see that the place was canine-free and drunkards-free. I'm afraid I'm gonna sound like a broken tape but my honesty and a wish to write only actual facts impels me to say this. Hardly had we taken about two bites of that cursed burger, we were joined by a...you got it right...dog! It circled our bike, nosing its way around. I completely lost interest in that burger. I accepted defeat. I could fight no longer. We both felt the futility of the situation. We threw the remains of that luckless burger to the mongrel which gobbled them up in no time.
Oh.. the relief was enormous! To be free of those fixing stares, to be able to walk without being followed by four-legged hungry monsters (this from a girl who loves dogs!!!)...what a pleasure in life!

A funny thing. This did not happen to us when we ate pizzas at the beach. Was our veggie burger mixed with some kind of meat (Ewwww!) which attracts dogs? Or has the count of stray dogs increased out here? Neither option is a happy thought!

The next time we will try out with some other food...maybe dosas. That will answer atleast one question!

Gifted!

Manhattan skyline has never looked more beautiful!
Check out this NY artist's fantastic talent
http://www.spraypaint.tv/view/261/times-square-nyc-spray-paint-art/

தோழிக்கு...தோழியிடமிருந்து.

பரந்த பாலை கண்ட
சுகந்த சோலை என

விரிந்த ஆழி தந்த
நிறை நல் முத்து என

கற்பிக்க வந்தவனை
காதலன் எனக் கொண்டாய்

நின்னையே சரணடைந்தேன் என
அவன் காலடி கிடந்தாய்

பேதையே! அதுவல்லவோ நீ செய்த பிழை?

காலடியில் உள்ளதால் அவனுக்கு நீ
எட்டித் தள்ள மிக ஏதுவாய்ப்பட்டாய்

பூமித்தாய் என நினைப்போ உனக்கு?
மிதிப்பவனை மாரோடு அணைக்க எண்ணுகிறாய்?

மூடப்பெண்ணே! போதும் உன் அங்க ப்ரதட்சணம்.
நிமிர்ந்து எழு! உலகம் காணுவாய்.

Lucky

I'll think my wishes through
before I wish again

-from the song Journey Home from Bombay Dreams
Two lines that kept running in my mind... over and over...


Thursday night
I'm on phone with my friend.. as usual we're discussing everything over and under the sun. We got to accidents.
"You know, I've always wondered. How will it be if I got caught in a road accident? Something like out of Kaaka Kaaka!" as usual it is me with this quirky thought.
The topic ran its usual gamut and ended.


Friday afternoon
I start my bike with my sister in the pillion. There we were, sailing along happily.
We reached a traffic signal just as it turned green. We sail past and reach a narrow bridge. Out of the corner of my eye, I detect a fellow walking drunkenly along the pavement. In a split second, he falls on my bike, flailing his arms.

I lose control. The world has gone black.

Someone has made me stand. I'm not able to. I lean on the railing for support. I can see blood drops falling on the pavement. Where are they falling from? My chin hurts. I wipe it. My palm comes away smeared with blood. My blood.

I turn back. About ten men (or so it felt like) are lifting up my sister. She is totally unconscious. I feel terror as I have never felt before. I black out again.

"Get inside the car", someone is pushing me. I see my sister being held up by two men. I sink into the seat and pull her towards me. "Wake up Wake up Wake up", I'm yelling at her, slapping her cheeks. The unknown terror is building up. "Wake up and look at me", I'm yelling out her name. I hear someone saying "It's nothing, It's nothing". One of the men holds out my phone. "Give me the number to call". I automatically punch in the letters and give him the number.

She opens her eyes. Unstaring eyes. She opens her mouth and screams...on and on and on. I turn and look out the window. I see the river beyond the bridge. A feeling of unreality sweeps over me. 'This cannot be happening to me'. I know no more.

I'm in the hospital. I see the terror stricken faces of my relatives. "What happened?" I ask them. A stranger steps up. "A drunkard fell on your bike. I was in a car behind. We brought you here". I could remember nothing. I feel a wetness on my cheeks. I've been crying. My mother and aunt lean over me. "I'm sorry" was all I could say. Over and over again. My uncle's face swims into view. Then my father's face. To all I have one thing to say - "I'm sorry"

My mother comes near me. "Where's my sister? I wanna see her", I cry out. A screen has been put up between us. "She's fine. Her wounds are being cleaned", my mother tries to pacify me. "I wanna see her. Take me to her. I wanna see her", I scream restlessly through my tears.
They open the screen and show me her face. She's looking at me. "Are you ok?" I ask her fearfully. Her small nod worked wonders to appease my conscience. I realise that the feeling of responsibility is the scariest of all!

A doctor comes to my bedside. "Since you're unmarried, we're gonna ask a plastic surgeon to come sew up your chin ok?"

"My head hurts", I whimpered. Through my whimper I noticed that her hair had been artifically straightened and looked very dry! Funny the things we notice!

"Hello!", A white coated man is leaning over me. "I'm the plastic surgeon, I'll be suturing your chin now." I yell out at him, "Before you do that, you gotta do something about my head. It hurts like crazy!"

CT scan machine is not working. We're both being shifted to another hospital. With the ambulance sirens screaming.

More about the hospital experience at Admitted to Apollo.

Maybe it's a coincidence. Or maybe not. Whatever it is, my belief in the power of thoughts has become stronger than ever. Because of this, I'll be more careful in voicing my thoughts.

There is a traditional custom practiced among us to ward off the evil eye. Camphor is the main player of the ritual. Camphor together with other stuff such as red chillies, salt, pepper, pumpkin etc are taken in hand and circled around person(s). Then they're all burnt up outside the house. This is supposed to cleanse the aura around us. It had stood by my stead in some occasions previous to this. That is why, though I have no belief in any religious ceremonies, I always submit to and practice this custom. This ritual was performed on us friday morning.

After the accident, opinions were voiced by various members of the family-

"It was a miracle they came out with so less injuries".
"This is all God's doing. Thank the lord nothing worse happened".
"Only because of the ritual they were saved with minor injuries".
"To escape with just this in such a busy road! You are very lucky".

Yes I was.

From now on, I'll think my wishes through.

Admitted to Apollo

We were taken into the Emergency. A smiling doctor comes to me, "I'll be first injecting this local. You have to bear only that. You won't feel the stitches at all". She pokes at the flaps of my chin skin with a needle. 'Only this? Woman you're killing me', I want to yell out. But I know that I had done enough screaming to last me a lifetime. I only grit my teeth and wait for her to complete her tailoring.

A series of tests follow. I'm being stretchered from room to room for X-Rays, CT Scans and whatnot. I have no idea which followed which. All I remember now are the bright white flouresecent overhead lights rushing by as my stretcher was wheeled here and there.

Doctor's Decision : Admit into Intensive Care for acute observation. Which translates to 'suck out as much money as you can from these fatheads'

We were in full control of all our faculties soon. We did NOT need to be the ICU. But the hospital wasn't happy with the amount it had made on us with just emergency care. It wanted more. Two days in the intensive care shot up the medical bills to more than what I make in a month!

A small example of the hospital's business strategy: A nurse came up to me on saturday with a large cotton swab. "We need to take a nasal culture sample. This is a routine procedure. Please don't be scared"(as if I was). She made a feeble swipe just inside my nostrils. I did not even feel it. "Thank you that's it", she smiled with a false brightness that is the trademark of all the nurses. "Did you even get anything?" I questioned her. "Yes mam", with another of those oh-so-bright smiles she left.
After getting home, I saw that I was billed 620Rs for those swipes!

Another funny term they used at that hospital was "Acute Observation". For all I know, they did not observe me, acutely or otherwise. I was visited by a series of doctors - A neuro surgeon, Two plastic surgeons, A general surgeon, A chief doctor and a few more guys who had some specialisation I've forgotten. None of them observed me acutely. They observed the monitor which had a series of wires connected to me. They observed a chart at the foot of my bed. And they left.
Two of them came near me and spoke to me. One of them palpated my stomach with a gloved hand. One tested my reflexes, once. Most of them spoke to me from the foot of the bed. That was the extent of 'acute observation'.

The monitors and the charts were given more attention than the actual patient. Once, one of the electrodes attached to my chest had come unstruck. So the monitor showed my respiration level to be extremely low. According to the monitor, I already had one foot in the grave. The nurse got excited and called another nurse. "Respiration level is 2". Both of them looked at me. I was placidly lying there, watching tv, breathing as well as them! But still she asked me to breathe in and out. I did. She wasn't satisfied that I was fully alive. Then one bright soul had the idea to check my ECG leads. What a relief! They glued it back and smiled at the monitor.

The next day, we got ourselves discharged 'against medical advice' not heeding the chief doctor's warning that there is a one in hundred chance that we may get fits.

Well, so far, no fit has seen it fit to come near me!