Milestone Birthday

 Wishes to a friend who truly shows how fabulous 50 can be!

ஆதவனை அற்புதமாக

ஐம்பது முறை சுற்றி விட்டாய்!

கால ஒட்டத்தை கொண்டாடும் இவ்வேளையில்

நினைவோட்டங்களில் சற்று சிலிர்ப்போமே!

அருமையான பொழுதுகள் ஆயிரம் உண்டன்றோ?

கொலு என்றால் பொம்மைகள் ஆவோம்!

கச்சேரி என்றால் பாடகியர் ஆவோம்!

மேடை என்றால் நர்த்தகியர் ஆவோம்!

Party என்றால் பட்டையை கிளப்புவோம்!

ஆமாம்….. அதெப்படி?

சந்திக்கும்போதெல்லாம்

சந்தோஷம் மட்டுமே காண்கிறோம்?

அழகான தருணங்கள் அமைந்த நம் நட்பில்

அகவையின் இடைவெளியை அன்பால் அளந்தோம்!

எதிர்ப்பார்ப்பில்லா அடித்தளம் கொண்ட 

இந்நேசத்தை என்றென்றும் தொடருவோம்! 

பெயர்களில் மட்டுமல்ல -

வாழ்விலும் பல கலைகளில் சிறந்தவளே!

ஆனந்தத்தை உருவாய்க் கொண்டவளே!

தோழி… நீ பல்லாண்டு வாழி!!

காலை எழுந்தவுடன்...

புலருகையில் புல் முத்தமிடும் புதுக்காலையில்

பூங்காற்று பூச்சொரியும் இளவேனிலின் இதத்தை
மிதச்சூட்டில் மனம் வருடும் தெளித் தேநீரின்
உதடு படா உள்செல்லலில் உணர்ந்ததுண்டோ?

அருந்துகையில் அகம் நனைக்கும் அந்நீரில்
இழையோடும் இனிப்பு உன்னதம் உணர்த்தும்
அந்நாளின் அல்லல், ஆவல், ஆக்கங்களை
ஆர்வமாய் எதிர்கொள ஆற்றல் தரும் அவ்வமிர்தம்!

Obsession

my hook sways; slow like death
searching for a prey constantly
you land on it and latch on firmly
oh.. why did you end up being my prey

the prey doesn't know it's caught
but for the hook it's all it has
whole of it's being consumed by
torturous thoughts of its prey

the prey still swims free
unaware that the hook shudders;
twist and turn I may
letting go, moving on is the hardest

my hook lives only here
the farthest deepest trench
that i'm fated to call the mind
so far from the reality it shall never see

in that reality our worlds collide
when you are you and I am me
but those moments are so far and few
they fade so quickly as dusk to night

a different world comes to light
i know it to be unreal; imaginary but
there we've lived a thousand lives
light years removed from what is true

as reality recedes, then comes the hook
impaling the prey in its metal claws
the agony and anguish are not for the prey
but for the mind that possesses the hook

மினுக்கு

பனிமூட்டம் படர்ந்த பின்னிரவு
பார்வைக்கு படவில்லை பனிநிலவு

ஆ!
பளிச்சென தோன்றி மறைந்ததென்ன?
விழி கண்ட பொழுதில் விரைந்ததென்ன?
அலற வைக்கும் ஆவியோ
உறைய வைக்கும் உருவமோ
நிலை கொள்ளா நினைவுத் துகளோ
திடுக்கிடச் செய் தீப் பிழம்போ
இல்லை
இல்லை
மின்னி மறைவது மின்மினி ஒன்று
அண்டத்தின் ஆதித் தீயைத் தன்
அங்கத்தில் அழகாய் அடக்கி
கட்டுக்கடங்கா என் கற்பனையோட்டத்தை
கண நேரத்தில் கட்டியிழுத்து
ஞானச் சுடரேற்றிச் செல்லும் ஒளி அது!

Are you for real?

People from your past never grow old do they? They are stuck in the same place you last saw them.

The problem is, they continue to live and grow in your mind. You imagine them living and behaving as you wish. They take on an entirely believable life in your mind that when you actually meet them later in life, it comes as a shock to you that they're a whole another person!

But does that revelation stop you from continuing to imagining them? No!
You carry on happily, coming up with little dialogues and run-ins and intimacies that make you so happy inside.
Sometimes though the imagination isn't enough. You begin to crave that person living in your imagination to come and make it all real. Oh you still don't want the real person to be there - no no no. It's your imaginary real person for whom you yearn!

It's at times like these, I wonder what if we had a method of communicating these expectations? Maybe that real person has moved on so far ahead that they can't reconcile themselves to the version you imagined. But what if there's someone else out there that matches the imaginary friend you look for?

Then you meet in real life and make a new friend!

The only problem I see here is that your imagination is probably pretty private and there's no way that you can make it public! Anonymous sharing may help but world being as is now, you'll probably just attract creeps. Without resorting to anonymity, the minute you talk about the imaginary version your people know whom you're talking about and judge you. Worse: that person from your past comes to know that they still live in your imagination but in such an avatar. And worst of all the people in your current life come to know that you are weirder than they thought and may not entirely be happy about your private imaginative life!

What's the point of this rant then, you ask? Sometimes wild thoughts refuse to stay cozily inside the mind vault and insist on being laid out in words.

The Reunion

'Batch of 2009 - 10th reunion' the banner proclaimed gaudily. Sara was thankful to enter the hall with Vini by her side. Being not particularly fond of the majority of her classmates, she felt confident facing them with her best friend by her side.
“There! I see Mina. Come on”, Vini pulled her through the sparsely crowded hall. Sara's eyes were arrested by a familiar face near Mina. She automatically felt her tread slowing down. No, she wasn't as confident as she thought she will be.
Before they could reach her, Mina screeched across the room, “Sara! Vini! Oh my god, how long has it been?”
'So much for a subtle approach', Sara sighed to herself. His head had whipped around at the sound of Mina's welcome. He came forward hesitantly though eagerly, "Hey.... Sara, how you been?”
"Hey Nikil", she managed.
He turned to Vini with an easy smile, "Hey Vini, how's the family?"
The hellos were all done and they had all found seats around the circular tables scattered across the room. Sara was thankful that no formal seat allocation had been done. She found that she still couldn't stand many of her classmates. And also she might not have ended up next to Nikil, as she did now.
"So, what have you been up to?” he asked casually.
"Hacking away at life, one day at a time", she said with a straight face. Seeing his startled face, she smiled her trademark curved smile. “I’m sorry, I knew you wanted to know about job, family etc., but I was feeling particularly philosophical then".
"Wow, you haven't changed at all, have you?” he smiled at her.
"I have, Nikil. I very much have", said she looking intently at him.
The hall had started filling up and the reunion events were starting. This was no place was intent conversations. Nikil knew that until he had had that conversation with her, he cannot leave the town. He was able to turn to his other neighbor only after he had made sure that Sara will meet him, at the cafe that had been a favorite haunt, the next day.
---
“It's a Latte isn't it?” he asked her, desperate to be right.
“Latte would be good”.
He heaved an internal sigh of relief, not knowing that she wanted him to be right and that she gave up coffee ages ago.
“Find us some seats. I’ll get the coffees”, he walked off. Waiting in line, he couldn’t resist sneaking surreptitious glances at her. She was lounging by the window, looking lost in thought. ‘What was she thinking? What will she say now? Is it too soon to talk about…? No’, he decided vehemently. He did not have the luxury of time. This was not college where he had thought, foolishly he added in mental parentheses, there was always going to be next day or next year. It had to happen in the now.

Sara was smart enough to understand the reason behind this meet. Though she came hoping that it might happen, she still found herself pleasantly surprised that it happened. Being of the group of people who always secretly wish for a thing to happen but convince themselves that such a thing cannot happen to save themselves the disappointment, she was cautiously happy to finally be sitting here, looking forward to coffee and conversation – the latter more than the former. Cautious, since she was not sure how they were going to talk about it; And if he knew everything that had happened. This train has to make a lot of stops before it reaches destination.
 He came back with the coffees. “So”, he said settling in. “So”, she smiled. Deep conversations have a tough time taking off. You can’t just dive directly into the deep end. Questions that will change his life were foremost in his mind. So obviously he asked her anything other than them. “How's work?” he started.
“Good, how about yours?” Yes, she was doing it too.
“Pretty good”
She smiled her knowing smile. They both understood they didn't really care about each other’s work.
He gathered up his courage. 10 years of separation and age gives that courage. “Are you ok now?”
“Of cour.... Oh”, she understood him and bit off her conventional reply. “Yes, I really am”.
“When I heard about it, much time had passed. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how to talk about it. I wasn’t comfortable calling you up out of the blue. Still I wanted to reach out to you many times, but -”
“But didn’t know how I’ll take it?”
“I’m sorry about it, you know. I really am. ”
“Nikil, it’s fine.”
“Are you really fine Sara? It’s not that I’m prying but I need to know. What actually happened?” He needed to understand and it had to come from her.
She looked at him, startled. The Nikil she knew was never this direct. He had usually been a little diffident around her, never really understanding that she always had given him more rights than he had taken. This directness made him more attractive.
“You know about the accident, I suppose”, she said with a slight question. He nodded.
She went on with her calm, measured voice. “It shattered me. It claimed my unborn and kept my husband and me in the hospital for weeks. After a while, we got better. Better in health, though not in mind. We were ridden with guilt. We blamed ourselves for something that had been beyond our control. It was natural to have a lot of ‘what ifs’. We had our fair share. Counseling helped a little.”
She took a sip from her cup. Nikil didn’t move a muscle.
“Well“, she continued, “it had been a little more than a year since our wedding. It was supposed to be the time for a newly married couple to get to know one another. Not to go through a life-shattering experience. This changed us. Completely. He had gotten married during a rebound phase. I had gotten married because it seemed like the right thing to do. But after that, we both realized that we could not find a reason to stay together. Every day, we kept finding reasons to stay away from each other. Divorce was the sane option. A quick wedding, quick death and quick divorce”, she gave a self-deprecating smile. Less because she enjoyed her wit, more to let him know that she really was fine.
“It’s easy to talk about it now. But I kinda withdrew into myself then. If it hadn’t been for Vini, I might still be there. I got a transfer to be near her family and have been there ever since”, she ended with the same smile.
--
There had been silence for about five minutes now – which really is a long time. She had compressed 10 years of her life in just a few minutes. It took Nikil more time than that to process it all. His mind was racing in a million different directions. Above the racing, one thing stood clear – his resolution of asking her to share his life just got infinitely stronger. The experience had emotionally scarred her but she was still the resilient, confident girl he had known. The scar had only increased his respect towards her.
He had always found it a little hard to collect his thoughts and put them into words when he needed to. And he found himself in the same unenviable position now. While he was struggling with his thoughts, she had moved on with hers.
“So, tell me. What have you been doing with yourself?” she asked. Five minutes were all she could give him to respond. When he didn’t, she didn’t get upset. She had been used to not hearing what she wanted to hear from him, that it had stopped bothering her long ago. With a mild shrug, she naturally shifted the focus.
It had always been like this between them. She had usually decided the direction their conversations shall take. ‘But today’, Nikil decided, ‘will be different’. He ignored her question.
“I’m glad you told me about… well… everything. Sara, will you give us a chance?”
This was a very direct and confident and yes, vocal Nikil that Sara was seeing and for a moment she was disconcerted. Though the question was a wonderfully welcome one, there were still many stops the train needed to make.
“What about… what about Nitya?” she asked a little hesitantly.
“Nitya?” he was surprised, “Didn’t you know that we broke up after a few months?”
“No…” she gave a sudden smile, “all I knew was ‘Nikil – Nitya’. It was our college’s version of ‘Ross and Rachel’”.
“She moved out of the city for her work and long distance wasn’t working. We realized that the only reason we got together was because everyone around us expected us to be together. It was a different kind of peer pressure” he sighed.
“If only…” he stopped.
“What?”
“If only things had worked out between us, there wouldn’t have been any ‘Nikil – Nitya’” he looked at her with something like a reproach.
She raised her eyebrows in an ‘are you kidding me’ look. “How could it have worked with us when you were already with her? From the time I knew you, you guys were talked of together”.
“That was all just talk. They took something I said, added their own meaning to it and started talking of it as if it’s a sure thing. I believe all I said was she was hot or something. College kids – what can you expect?” he said ruefully.
“But you never denied it!”
“Didn’t I? I tried really hard to convince you that there was nothing going on between us. But you were not interested. Whenever I tried to talk about her, you changed the topic”
“Nikil,” she was half amused and half frustrated, “didn’t you realize I was jealous?”
Now it was his turn for the look. ”Jealous?” he said unbelievingly, “You?”
“God! Don’t we know anything about each other? Yes. I was jealous. Madly so. I hated hearing of her. When you started talking of her, I was afraid that you might make me your confidant. It was hard enough to see my guy falling for another girl. I couldn’t imagine being a confidant for them too. That’s why I always changed the topic”
“I’m sorry. Did you just say ‘my guy’?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear.
She flushed and bent her head.
“Why didn’t you tell me this Sara? At least shown me that you were interested?”
“Misplaced pride I suppose”, she said shrugging. “I couldn’t show you my interest unless I knew you were free. But that didn’t happen. There was always this girl or that girl...”
“Sara!! You’re making me out to be a Casanova! Which other girl was there?”
“Oh please! How about Varsha?”
“Who..?”
“Varsha, from first year?”
 “Oh… her. Why would you assume there was something going on? I don’t even remember her”
“It was something that you let slip back in the day. Never mind”, she stopped for fear of appearing whiny.
“No. Tell me please” he was insistent.
“Well,” she started half-ashamed, "I had called you at midnight on your birthday. I heard call waiting. When I asked you the next day, you said you had been speaking to her.” She was fully ashamed now. “I got mad that you ignored my call to speak to her. My over-active imagination came into play then – I had you guys married by the end of that semester. Forget it, it doesn’t matter”.
This was a new Sara that he was seeing.
“Doesn’t matter? Doesn’t matter? If only I had known this, I would’ve come and told you point-blank that you were only girl who mattered. I always found you unwilling to talk about this. I didn’t understand why until now”
“That’s the problem with being a version of the 'strong, independent girl'” she sighed. “I wanted you to make me feel special, feel pampered but my pride always stood in the way. There was no way I was gonna show myself as a jealous girl who needed assurances that she was the most important person in someone’s life.”
She gave herself a little shake and continued. “Now that we have begun the full disclosure I might as well tell you all, I guess. Then there was Neela. I heard her in cafeteria one day, going on about how much in love with you she was, and that she had spoken to you about it and was waiting to hear from you. But I didn’t hear a peep from you about her. I assumed that you didn’t think me close enough to talk to me about her.”
“Wait a minute,” he interrupted, “you got mad I tried to talk to you about Nitya. Then you got mad I didn’t talk to you about Neela? What is a guy to do?”
“Oh they are two different things. You don’t get it”, she said impatiently.
“I have a feeling I never will”, Nikil smiled.
“Anyway, all these things contributed to my thinking that you only just thought me as a good friend and nothing more. That you found me easy to talk to and that’s it.”
“Well, the talking part is right. Out of all the girls in our class, you and Vini were the ones I found easy to talk to”
“There! That exactly is what I mean. See what you just did? When you want to make someone feel special you don’t group them with another person! Vini is my bestie, but when you say things like this, it appears that you put me in the same position as her. Any wonder that I thought I was in your friend zone?”
He sighed, exasperated.
She gave a sudden laugh. “You know what? Forget my stupid complaints. Water under the bridge. Good that we finally cleared it all up”
“Yes,” he said “10 years later!”
“10 or 20, I’m glad it happened Nikil.”
 “I have to agree. I'm really glad we cleared the air today”. He took a deep breath, "You do realize that you really are special to me? That there is a reason I came to this reunion? All through our college life, you were the only one in my mind. Even though we never got together, even after we went our own ways, I just couldn't shake you off my mind. No one else felt right. Not even Nitya", he smilingly answered the question in her eyes.

Her face lighted up. She couldn't believe she was finally hearing what she always wanted to hear. Her college crush, her closest friend was finally confessing his love to her! She had imagined versions of this scene many times in her mind. But never got the confidence to make it a reality because of her misconceptions. But today! Did the long-lost coffee break her reserve? She gave the coffee a sip of thanks.

"I'm sorry I kept these grudges. I should've asked you directly but couldn't quite overcome my ego.  I also must confess - you were the only one that was special to me. No one else mattered. If only I had the courage to tell you this then...", she sighed. 

It was his turn to light up! "Let the past die. What matters now is the future. Will you share yours with me, Sara?”

He held out his hand. She took it.

Lyrics Appreciation Series

There are two kinds of music listeners - those who hear the lyrics and those who hummmmmmmmmmm.
For those of us that belong to the former category, almost all the songs sound like they're written for us and us alone.
Social media has killed that feeling to a certain extent - after you've seen a million TikTok videos for the same exact song that you just swooned over, you get cured of that.

However, recently there was one song that immediately sent a delicious jolt inside of me. This is a song about forbidden love - the girl, who knows her desire is beyond the moral confines, still asks if it can be fulfilled. And the boy replies with his poetic consent.

The questions:
ஏனோ இரவோடு ஒளியாய் கூடும்
உறவொன்று  கேட்கிறேன்
Why do I yearn for a bond
that merges darkness and light

வரை மீறும் இவளின் ஆசை
நிறைவேறப்  பார்க்கிறேன்
I want to fulfill this desire
that bounds across barriers

நதி சேரும் கடலின்மீது
மழை நீராய்  சேருவேன்
I will be the raindrop falling
on a river that joins the ocean

அமுதே பேரமுதே,
பெண் மனதின் கனவின்
ஏக்கம் தீர்க்குமா? ஏற்க்குமா?
my magnificent elixir,
will you sate this girl's desire? will you accept?

மதியை தன் மதியை
இவன் அழகின் பிம்பம்
கண்கள் பார்க்குமா?
தோற்க்குமா?
will his beautiful shadow ever turn an eye to his moon? 
or will it not?

The answers:
மழை வானம் தூறும்போது
மணலென்ன கூசுமோ?
When the rain cloud drizzles
will the sands  shy away?

மலரோடு மலர்கள் கூட
ஊரென்ன தூற்றுமோ?
who would censure 
two flowers coming together?

திரையே திரை கடலே
உன் அதிரும் அன்பு
மதிலை தாண்டுதே
தூண்டுதே.
my glorious ocean!
your shattering love induces me
to cross the barriers

What a beautifully imagined dialog this is!

I raise my hands in appreciation to Ms. Uma Devi, who penned the original song titled Anbey Peyranbey. Thank you for this beauty!

Ms. Uhnnda Stoude

Long long ago, so long ago, no one knows how long ago, there lived a girl.... I think. Well I'm pretty sure she did because our heroine most certainly descended from her. The girl is of the kind who do not learn from their elders and betters - especially when the E's & B's tell her specifically not to [insert any action under the sun]. Her immediate response would be to try that and tell them
"Ohhhh, this is why you told me not to do that. Sure thing, I won't do it anymore" while rubbing her broken leg / burnt finger / singed hair etc. It is a wonder that she escaped near deaths long enough to live and bear descendants.

Well, she did and our heroine is one of them. How do I introduce her to you? I know! Visual Exercise! I want you to imagine you're at the gym - well, specifically at the trash cans behind the gym. Do you see that old tattered punching bag - at the end of its life after receiving blows from many, many boxing gloves over many, many years? MEET OUR HEROINE!

Well, not really but you get the idea.

Our heroine has always been a social creature and a constant twitterer. No, I don't mean that she is in that social network! Get your head out of that cloud! And NO I don't mean the iCloud! FINE. She likes to talk, ok?  And since she likes an audience, she tries to gather as many people around her as she can. And that's where the trouble starts! Did you know that not all people like being gathered?

Here's how it'll typically roll.... Our heroine will come across one person (call them A) whom she instantly connects with and then another (call them B). So naturally she'll bring A & B together because, you know, more the merrier and all...
At this time, one of three things will happen
1. A hates B and will exit, punching our heroine in the gut
2. A loves B and will exit taking B, punching our heroine in the gut
3. A & B both like our heroine and stay on until they each realize their own gangs are more important and will exit, punching our heroine in the gut

Do you notice a common theme in these scenarios?

---❦---

Our heroine loves archery. Slinging arrows at targets is her favorite pastime. And that's how her words flow out of her. Sharp, decisive and flying towards the target. Maybe her love for archery is to blame for the words zinging right out of her mouth. Unfortunately not all of her word arrows reach their target. Well, hey, I said she loves archery, I didn't say that she was an expert!
This is to be said of our heroine: even though the arrows miss their targets, they're always well-intentioned. But, what's the use of well intentioned arrows completely missing their target or worse, hitting the wrong target?
Some times, our heroine takes too long to aim an arrow because she wants the arrow to be so perfect that the target tires of her and walks away, completely missing their intended arrow. And other times, the targets appear so intimidating that she loses her nerve and bungles her arrows.

In any case - all these targets do the same exact thing: they turn right around, pick those missed arrows and throw them right back at our heroine. With a vengeance. I mean, can you blame them?

No wonder she begins to resemble a pin cushion more and more.

                                                                            ---❦---

So, in conclusion, she is a pincushiony, battered, punching bag. This PBPB just doesn't seem to learn though - I mean all she has to do is stop putting herself there, but noooo. True to her ancestry, she will keep doing the same thing over and over because... she is persistent? she won't rest until she gets her 'gang'? she is adamant? she is resilient? Nah. She just has a short term memory and can't help getting punched over and over. 

Next time you see the PBPB wandering around looking for more punches, say hi (from a safe distance). Did I tell you her name yet? Look up, I named this article after her. It's pronounced "under stood".

தூக்கம் ?

(Product of a sleepless night)

நித்திரை தேடி நித்தமும் அலைய
அந்தியின் மடியில் கண்களும் சரிய
குறும்பு நெஞ்சம் குழப்பி தாக்க
தடுமாறும் எண்ணம் தட்டி எழுப்ப
குமுறும் ஆசைகள் கூச்சல் போட
பதைக்கும் மனம் பனிக்கால இரவில்
நித்திரை தேடி நித்தமும் அலைய

Yearning

It comes at you suddenly. A bolt of lightning out of the blue that shatters your foundation. A hook that flies out of the pages of your memory - pierces your thoughts so deeply that you are frozen by the pain of it. These hooks are hanging always just outside your consciousness, like a curtain of snakes floating and drifting.
A song, a photo, a picture, a name, an utterance, an action, a gesture, a new smile that reminds you of an old - one of these will call a snake to life. You'd feel its fang sinking into your mind.
Immediately, a tornado of yearning engulfs you. Completely. A yearning for something that is a nanometer out of your reach. A yearning so powerful that you're left gasping for life.
That yearning is for the most bittersweet of them all....'what might have been'. For that friend lost in time. For that love that slipped away. For that question never asked. For that answer never given. For that voice never raised. For that pain never soothed...
This yearning shall twist you, toss you and turn you. But it won't take you unless you ask it to. It shall be a brief storm that shall pass. Enjoy the torment while it lasts but ground  yourself firmly when it ends.
This yearning proves that you've lived. It keeps you awake. It keeps you alive.

On a shadowy night

the fog has blanketed the world outside
secrets, spirits what else does it hide?
a purple light slowly twinkles afar
not a mystery, only a christmas star
a sigh is heaved, my heart disappointed
it needs a mystery on a night so haunted
been at my window these hours past
wishfully willing a mystery to start
if real world's shadows do not bring one
it's to imagination's shadows I must turn.

O Canada!

[Apologetic note on showing no love to my poor little blog for 2 years goes here]

I take up my pen laptop once again to take you with me down memory lane while I re-live a great trip. 'Twas a happy week I spent fulfilling my dream of visiting Prince Edward Island, Canada.

Yes, I was part of the group of million little girls who fell in love with Prince Edward Island because L.M.Montgomery taught us to do so via her Anne books. And finally, I was there in person! Here's the story of what happened:
It was a relaxed start on a Saturday night flight to Halifax (the closest cheap airport to PEI). However, about 40 minutes before landing, the pilot scared us by saying the due to the fog and the ensuing poor visibility, they might re-route the flight to Bangor, Maine (The last place on earth I wanted to be. Not that I had anything against it) While I was crossing all the fingers I had, happily no such disaster occurred. Thanking my lucky stars I set foot in Halifax. And in a short while at the rental car place, I had occasion to thank the same lucky stars with a big whoop when I set my eyes on the Chevy Camaro that had been given us. Color me materialistic but there it was - sitting black and beautiful and delighting me. Bless you, Thrifty!

We zoomed on to PEI and stopped at this place called Gateway Village - aptly named as it lies at the gateway at the end of the 13 KM bridge into the island. I expected to see Anne at the island and I did - at Anne of Green Gables Chocolates store. I guess Anne books are the most important claim to fame  for the island and they were going to milk it for all that it's worth!

It was a late evening when we reached the B&B and we spent it at a nearby beach called Brackley. PEI is known for its red soil - this beach was no exception. The beach sand had thousands of red stones mingled with it.

Stone castles at Brackley Beach

Get the joke?

Next day - the best day ever - was Green Gables day. A little history (skip to the pic if not interested/you already knew): Green Gables was a house owned by relatives of LM Montgomery, whose Anne of Green Gables series of books are part of classic literature. The author based the books on the house and its surroundings. She was a very descriptive writer so the island and its people become very real to the readers. I had lived in PEI through her books when I read them. And now, I got to see the actual Green Gables house, the actual Haunted Woods and the actual Lover's Lane. Oh, to be walking the same paths where I imagined Anne walking! For those of you not familiar with the books, this was like Disneyland without the ridiculous amount of people, dollars and wait times.

Green Gables

Haunted Woods

Lover's Lane

Next stop was Cavendish beach which had stunning red stone cliffs. 

The ruddy cliffs

With the elements

On the way back, by a very lucky chance, we happened upon a group of people waiting in line for a Ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee) - an Irish and Scottish music and dance party. If you are ever in PEI, do not miss one of these. Ours was performed by the Ross Family - a very talented brother-sisters trio who along with their mom had the crowd tapping along to their lilting music. A fantastic end to a fantastic day.

The next day, I attended a musical - Anne of Green Gables, the Musical (what else, right?). Well, the best thing I can say is they had some good parts. Anne herself was a really huge disappointment. If you've read the books you know that Anne is a very high-spirited, talkative girl with a love for long words and wild imagination. And Anne always took herself seriously, very solemnly. The actress who played her had zero imagination and played Anne as a comical child who screams and scampers around. She was high-pitched not high-spirited. Jittery, not solemn. The saving graces were the few musical numbers which kept me not too irritated.

Phew, that rant felt good. I can't believe I've taken up so much space with just 2 days of stories. And we spent an entire week there! I'll wait till you refill your coffee for the five more days' worth stories.

Most of the the Islanders are a really nice, friendly bunch of people (now don't be all cynical and say that since tourism is a main business they can't afford to be un-friendly. Let's not forget the New Yorkers.) Wherever we went, there were people willing to talk to us about local history, direct us to favorites and haunts and always curious to know who we are from. When we visited the eastern part of the island the next day, thanks to some of these friendly folks, we visited an artist at his store where he let our 6-year-old make his own sea-glass necklace, had an excellent breakfast featuring the famous PEI potatoes, visited a 148-year-old lighthouse and saw and heard the Singing Sands ("more of squeaking sands", as the lady said) at Basin Head beach.

East Point Lighthouse

Bridge Jumping at Basin Head

The Basin Head beach was interesting because the sands there make a sort of squeaking rustling sound when you drag your foot on them. And it also had this bridge spanning the boardwalk from which strong swimmers were jumping into the swift deep waters below, get dragged by the current into a sort of natural pool formation.

PEI is a very beautiful island. And I believe summer time was the best time to visit since it was an amazing visual treat to see the contrasting island colors - the red soil, the varying shade of green crops, the blue sea, the yellow and purple wildflowers filling the meadows, dark and light clouds sailing in the blue sky. Nature was at her very best and her human creations hadn't dared to disrupt much of her canvas. 

I will leave you now with a few pitifully inadequate images of the island that I was able to capture. In my next post, I'll tell you all about the rest of the trip where we dipped our toes in a deliciously named river, went back in time, delighted in yet more samples of nature's hand at work and saw an interesting phenomenon that can't be seen anywhere else but there. 

The Voices

A thousand little voices screeching in my head

Jostling with each other to be the first heard

Angry and happy, sweet and snapping

Melodious screams, all overlapping

The stronger ones come to the fore

And claim my tongue, as their own

Oh you think I put them there?

These little voices that trill and tear?

Believe me, it be true, I can only watch

Helpless, they come out as I talk

Sometimes I don't want one but the other

Alas, the ones I need somehow disappear

What choice have I then but to succumb

Yet wish upon wish were I dumb

'Cause even when I hear them uttered

All I want is keep them shuttered.

Crushed crush

You know how back in school you used to have crushes on older girls (or boys if you were a boy)? A hero-worshippy, non-homosexual sort of crush? Does it ever stop at school level you think? For me, it persists. There are two girls at my workplace whom I secretly adore, from a distance. First one is a smart looking girl with close cropped hair and a pleasant and open face. For her I have only adoration. The other is a graceful girl with a long willowy form, beautifully shaped long hair and pleasant voice. For her, though, my adoration is slightly tinged with jealousy. And precisely because of that slight tinge that I'm glad of the thing that happened.

Why are these american bathroom stalls devoid of any privacy? No I'm not digressing. You'll see the connection in a tiny little while. Back to my question. Why again? There's enough space between the divider and the floor that you can even crawl from one to another. A bathroom is the most private place a person could be. Tell it to these people and they scoff and say 'Privacy Schmivacy'!

So one day, I'm taking my break (you do understand euphemisms, don't you?), when I hear noises from the adjacent stall. You know, the usual noises which accompany a person who is answering nature's call - all of them. The entire concert was played for my benefit. You can't help but hear them in the dead silence of an office restroom. If given an option, I would've stopped my ears but that was just not to be. So I quickly make my exit and was shocked to see my crush number two (number two ha ha ha) egress from the adjacent stall. I could hear a tiny 'poof' - the rosy glow of my crush vanishing against the harsh sounds that were still fresh in my mind.

Now I have only one wish for the future - that my smart cookie and I do not decide to answer nature's call at the same time.

"Just Google It"

Most questions these days seem to have one answer - 'just google it'. Really? 


Time and again I have had this said to me by my peers. It is a teensy bit insulting.  I am as Gen Y as you and do you, my peer, really think that I wait for your directive to 'google it' when I want to find information on something? I'm a programmer for pete's sake! How else do you think I survive, if I didn't know 'to google it'? 


So why I do ask you a question that can just as easily be 'googled' or 'wikied'? Because I want _your_ answer. The personal touch. Its my way of connecting with you. Because this too-connected world helps me to stay connectedly disconnected, this is my way of reaching out to feel the human. I want the little tete-a-tete again. And you know what, I don't mind waiting to hear from you. 


And why would I wait days when 'googling' can give me the answer in mere nanoseconds? I'll tell you - with an example. Once, a friend sent a list of new dishes and suggested that I pick one and make it for a party. I asked her to explain the dishes to me 'the next time we meet'. And her reply was 'google it'. And she didn't stop there - she googled and sent the answers to me! 
I refused to read it and told her I'll wait to hear about them when I met her next (because we were meeting soon anyway). And the time when we did meet, she did explain the dishes - accompanied with her trademark expressive gestures, smiles and josh. And we built up a conversation from that. Now tell me, which impersonal, one-way street google result can ever beat that? 


So next time I ask you something, do not, I repeat, do NOT tell me to google it. (I'll ask nicely) Please? 

The Puzzle

It's what Life is. A puzzle. A puzzle that is constantly rearranging.

Every single being who touches your life in some way makes up their own individual little piece. Every single look, every single touch, every single word, everything that matters - every little thing becomes a tiny piece of the puzzle. And that piece is constant. It is always what it is. No other piece can come and take its place. There may be other similar pieces. There may be complimentary pieces. And new pieces are added, when new people are met, new relations are forged, new paths are taken and new lives are created, each piece finds its own niche. It will disturb the other pieces, they will be disturbed, rearranged. This puzzle is not a constant, only the pieces are. And even when millions of new pieces get added, every little one always holds its own. And if it is lost, a part goes out of your puzzle forever. A puzzle shaped blank is created in your universe. Where that piece was, now you stare at nothingness.

Is your puzzle complete? Where have your missing pieces gone?

Sleeping with soap

You wake up in bed and find a piece of dried-up soap under your sheets.

You open the kitchen cabinet and find a toy sheep staring right back at you.

You sweep under the sofa and find four tiny cars.

You go out to the balcony and find a CD case lying for who-knows-how-long in the rain and shine.

You sit on the sofa to be poked by a ball on the cushion or by a spoon wedged between the cushions.

Your bathtub is filled with crayon drawings.

Your patience is tried to the utmost with blatant disobedience.

Your knowledge is put to the test with never ending questions of "what is this?".

You find yourself laughing silly at the crazy songs and dialogs that will be made up.

And if you have a blog, you almost never finish up a post, because you're constantly being interrupted with shrill summons.

Yes. That's what life is, with a two-year-old.

Tripping up the Hills

A few years ago, I had been to the Kallakkad - Mundanthurai tiger reserve and spent a very enjoyable time there.An interest on my part to share the beauties of the place with Hubs and a shortage of time (isn't that always the case?) led us to plan to spend a couple of days at the reserve - more specifically, at this place called Kudhiraivetti.

With directions from Google Maps and numerous people on the road, we reached the foot of the Manjolai Hills, atop which Kudhiraivetti is nestled. The Reserve sprawls over these hills and can be reached two ways - from Papanaasam and from Kallidaikurichi and onto Manjolai. The Papanaasam route is much more eventful, with many falls on the way. But we picked the latter, since we wanted to see Manjolai.

Early morning start

The Reserve is a protected area (read: Red tape) and requires prior permission to visit or stay. We had obtained the permission from Forest dept. We now reached the check post near the Manimutharu Dam where they check if you have really obtained the permission (word of caution: be sure to pay any fees in exact change here. Any change remaining may be kept back as 'tips' ).

Manimuthaaru Dam

Since we had picked July to visit the place, we had to brave the elements to sightsee. First stop was Manimutharu Falls. Here a chain is tied across the bridge over the river, barring your path. A shameless beggar in a forest ranger uniform demands bribe from you here to open the chain. Whatever the season be, apparently we have to brave the pitiful humans too. Passing him with disgust, we also passed by the chance to bathe in the falls since it was raining and also windy, and went on driving up.

Manimuthaaru Falls

A word of caution here. If you are planning to make a trip to the same place, before you start check your car. If it's a compact car like our Chevy Spark, stop right there. Because a few kilometers after the Falls, the roads become extremely pothole-y. We had a tough time with the little Spark! You need a rugged beast of a four wheeler to navigate those roads.

The Bison that posed for us

Another thing to remember is to never ask the locals on those mountain roads the distance to a certain place unless you wish to have hopelessly inaccurate data. Rule of thumb is multiply the number by three to get the approximate distance.

Beautiful Hills and Beastly roads

There is a place called Naalu mukku after the main Manjolai town(?) which literally feeds the guests at Kudhiraivetti. We had to buy supplies for dinner here and carry it up with us.

Nallumukku Postoffice

Village of Naalumukku. Notice the loaded sacks atop each roof - to prevent it flying away!

A branch from Naalu mukku took us to the Kodhaiyar Dam. This place was mist-ifyin to us. No really. It was so completely covered with mists that we might as well have tried to see through clouds. And to think that we had actually spun stories to the forest ranger at the gate to the Dam about a fictional uncle in the Department to make him let us through, to be completely fogged up in the end! But then, for about 10 seconds there was a break in the mist which enabled us to see the beautiful Upper and the Lower Kodhaiyar Dams.

At Kodhaiyar Dam

To strike a balance, the roads were trying hard to cancel out the feelings of joy at the wonderful scenery surrounding us. Imagine our feelings when we heard from a local that the approach to Kudhiraivetti was much worse than this road!
With sinking hearts, we took the road up and found that he had not erred. After a shaky journey, we reached the destination. The place was as beautiful as I remembered and winds were as strong too!

The Kudhiraivetti Watchtower

View from the tower

Finding our compact room ready we thankfully stretched our limbs for a while before heading out to sight-see. Happy we were, for immediately we saw a lone tusker ambling along the hill-face some distance from us.

The pachyderm's picture

After he disappeared down, we found that there wasn't much else to see because again the mist had beat us there first! Next best thing to do was to go to bed.
Next day, all refreshed and ready to tackle the road we went straight down to the Falls for the morning bath. But sadly (for us) it was crowded with tourists so we went elsewhere in search of a peaceful place. Since we were familiar with the area, we went straight down and out of the Reserve and reached a village called Munnirpallam which lies on the banks of Tamirabarani where we could take a dip in the river in peace. After a leisurely and fun-filled wallowing, we started homeward taking with us bittersweet memories.

On the way back, I was wondering what could've made this trip less enjoyable than my first one. Then I hit on it - the first time we took the trip, my dad had taken care of the reservations, the driving and the general planning. My mom had taken care of the food side and the looking-after-the-family side. All I had to do was take/pose for pictures and revel in the wonderful scenery. Now I wonder how my mom enjoyed it then...

What's up Chennai?

Seriously. What is up with you, Chennai? You have changed. Changed much.

Your streets are choked up with an astounding number of vehicles. Your products and services are sending their prices skyward at a speed comparable with our GSLVs. Your residents are multiplying at an alarming rate. And your people...Oh, your people. What happened to them? Where are the friendly ones I used to know? Why is everybody in a foul mood?

The people of Chennai were never a laidback group. In a fast growing metropolis which is competing for attention and businesses at a national level, the people cannot be laid back. They have to be driven. They have to be smartworking. But they were never rude as a matter of fact. Some chivalry was always alive among the Chennaiites. Road rage was never this widespread. The societal values never hit such a low.

I was never hit intentionally by a motorist simply because I had no place to move and he thought I was blocking him, until now. I was never serviced by rude salespeople who couldn't care less if you did not buy a product, until now. I was never shocked with Chennai's notorious autodrivers' haphazard driving and shameless haggling, until now.

What caused this? Is this the payoff for 'Development'? Is this because there are too many people? A few months' stay in the US has taught me to 'blame it all on the immigrants'. Do I do that? Is it because of the immigrants - people who have moved to Chennai from elsewhere in the state and the nation? But, hasn't Chennai always been a potpourri of diverse cultures?

I'm still waiting for answers from you, Chennai. I'm bewildered and saddened at your change. I wish that all these were only a product of my feverish imagination.

A walk through yesterdays

They were swirling around her, blinding her. Memories built over the passage of years, shadows of days past. Torturing her, delighting her, paining her. She feels the familiar yearning - for the things that have flitted past, things that were never tangible, things that were never discerned when present but missed sorely once gone.

She walks slowly, unsteadily, makes baby steps. Faint shapes take life around her. The tree under which coffees were shared and drunk, the stairs echoing with the youthful laughter, every shape tugs at the heartstrings, every object makes the mind travel to the past with a speed unimaginable. Past - it was a time for the young. A time of joy hitherto unknown. A time of incredible power, a time of independence, a time when they thought they could change the world. A time when tender hearts were carelessly and cruelly treated.

And then comes the anger. At the unrelenting time. At the helplessness. The agony of change takes over. She feels like the dog straining against the leash. The leash of reality. But the leash holds on. And brings her back slowly. The swirling mist settles about. Now she sees the path ahead. She turns back to see that the memories have subsided - from huge misty monsters they have become bittersweet elvish creatures.

Tiny hands grab hold of hers and lead her forward. And she walks the uncertain path, where more memories await to be made.