Now, after this and this, I am tempted to list one more again and this is one song that is very dear to me. It is from the movie, 'Nilaave Vaa' set to tune by Vidyasagar. The song penned by Vairamuthu, is sung very beautifully by Chitra and Hariharan.
The concept used in this song is very interesting. The attachment or the fact that the presence of the other in one's life is indispensable, is put forth through certain wonderful facts - pairs, where you can't isolate one from the other. I can't pick out one of them and say I love this. I love them all! :)..So here it is, for record..
"nee kaatru naan maram
enna sonnalum thalai aatuven
nee mazhai naan boomi
engu vizhundalum endhi koLven
nee iravu naan viNmeen
nee irukkum varai thaan naan iruppen"
"nee alai naan karai
ennai adithaalum etru koLven
nee udal naan nizhal
nee vizhavendam naan vizhuven
nee kiLai naan ilai
unnai ottum varaikkum thaan uyir tharippen
nee vizhi naan imai
unnai serum varaikkum naan thudithiruppen
nee swaasam naan deham
naan unnai mattum uyir thoda anumadhippen" (nee kaatru..)
"nee vaanam naan neelam
unnil naanai kalandhiruppen
nee eNNam naan vaarthai
nee sollum pozhudhey veLi paduven
nee veyil naan kuil
un varugai paarthuthaan naan isaippen
nee udai naan idai
unai urangum pozhudum naan udithiruppen
nee pagal naan oLi
endrum unnai mattum saarndhey naan iruppen" (nee kaatru..)
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Sunday, November 20, 2005
The gift
Deep crimson, streaks of gold; a bulging cloud coddling the orange ball..Two dozen birds, miniature marvels, gliding across, with messages from heaven..
"Slowly, steadily, you descend and drop,
next to me, you go hip-hop..
Fragile bird, with a pallid wing,
what message do you bring?"
I hear a grumble; What is it? Is it you, my stomach? Nope, nope..it can't be, for I just fed you..this glass, a proof..
Ah, serene, sensual, surreal; succour, I succumb to thee; Bach and Mozart, Masters of the art! Will you forgive me, this son of thee?? - Sinful, sinning, sinner..
"And there sings a distant lark,
thro' the frills of dark..
O'ye lark in mad mood,
what d'ya sing - The Art of Fugue?"
"Ah yet another bereaved lover..," mutters the man in guard, walking by..
"O' dear sir, I ain't lost a lover,
but a lovely, beautiful daughter..
She was born this day,
but fate snatched her away.."
"I raise my violin, play her tune,
gathering memories, that are strewn..
Heavenward wind, carry with you,
this father's tune, to her, my due.."
"Slowly, steadily, you descend and drop,
next to me, you go hip-hop..
Fragile bird, with a pallid wing,
what message do you bring?"
I hear a grumble; What is it? Is it you, my stomach? Nope, nope..it can't be, for I just fed you..this glass, a proof..
Ah, serene, sensual, surreal; succour, I succumb to thee; Bach and Mozart, Masters of the art! Will you forgive me, this son of thee?? - Sinful, sinning, sinner..
"And there sings a distant lark,
thro' the frills of dark..
O'ye lark in mad mood,
what d'ya sing - The Art of Fugue?"
"Ah yet another bereaved lover..," mutters the man in guard, walking by..
"O' dear sir, I ain't lost a lover,
but a lovely, beautiful daughter..
She was born this day,
but fate snatched her away.."
"I raise my violin, play her tune,
gathering memories, that are strewn..
Heavenward wind, carry with you,
this father's tune, to her, my due.."
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
For the bookshelf..
Saturday at Oxford
Sunday at Crossword
Four from the former
Two from the latter
Reasons are to be built
For I suffer from guilt
I say, "What for do I earn?"
Oh God, when will I learn? :(
Sunday at Crossword
Four from the former
Two from the latter
Reasons are to be built
For I suffer from guilt
I say, "What for do I earn?"
Oh God, when will I learn? :(
Thursday, November 03, 2005
His better half's monologue..
"All of us love listening to stories, don't we? Well, I have one to offer you too, the story of my own life, the one that I lead with this man, who the world calls my husband.."
"You know what am thinking right now? Why (the hell) do we get married?"
"No, no..now don't start on devising those sermons to be delivered to me.."
"I know why we get married..to fight and blow our tops!!"
"Before you dismiss me as one of those cynical sounding feminist with anti-men ideas, I will give you an instance..Why one, I will give you many.."
"It is one of those rare nights. We are watching a fabulous late night movie with mugs of coffee in our hands. It is pouring like crazy outside and my dear hubby could think of nothing but his car outside.."
"Oh my poor car, my poor car," he goes on and on..
"Finally I get bugged and I say, "Oh God, now go hug your poor car and sleep..""
"And you know, what all we fight for? Which channel to watch, which restaurant to eat at, whose party to attend - his colleague's promotion party or my friend's daughter's birthday party..Oh yes, we also fight on who has to wake up early and cook!!"
"Ok, let me tell you about another day. We are inside the car, waiting at a signal when I can see his eyes effortlessly following a group of five college girls, laughing and giggling. There is a smile that I see unconsciously spreading on his face. But Sir checks himself soon enough, for he knows my eyes are following him as well.."
"And then he immediately has to clear his throat, and say.."
"Now, now, dear, won't it be lovely to have girls, er.., daughters like them, so pretty beautiful and adorable.."
"and he has to crane his neck and look at them, till they disappear round the bend, till I shake him up and say, the signal is green.."
"Daughters, it seems..Sheesh!!"
"God, what do I do with him? The morning following that late night movie, I wake up to see his eyes fixed on me anxiously.."
"Well?" I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
"You know what honey..You look like a beautiful child when you sleep.."
""Amit.." I burst out, finding it hard to supress my giggles, "You just can't get this.." and I go into fits of laughter, holding my tummy."
"And then I see him looking mournful and confused like a kid.."
"Amit, what is it?"
"Suddenly he kneels down by the side of my cot, takes my hand and slips a beautiful ring into my finger.."
"Sweetie, may be there are a thousand stars in the sky, but you are the brightest.." he pauses, "but don't mind the rest.." "
"and there, right there, he gives a wide grin, while I chase him out of the room with his loud cries of "Happy Anniversary baby.." filling the entire house.."
"But you know, I should tell you..Sometimes, I find him so cute, especially when he falls asleep on my lap when I go on and on with my day's stories.."
"Love sometimes shows up most in the most trivial of acts. Like.."
"Like when he massages my feet when I cry out in pain and when he hands over those tissue papers, seeing me weep over spicy food.."
"I am talking too much about him today..All this rambling means that I am going to miss him..:(..he is going on a two week official tour..:("
"Sumi, I think I would need another bag..Where are you? Why don't you come here..Sumi!!"
"There, can you hear him??"
"Coming coming.."
"See, see tension is mounting..I need to rush now.."
"Sumanaaaaaaa..."
"Coming..oh Godddddddddddd..!"
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
What if..
What if I hadn't started blogging?
What if I hadn't called myself Anupama Viswanathan?
What if I had a nick name and blogged?
What if I stopped blogging now?? :O
Geeh..I am in such a crazy mood now..:D..Feel like I am almost drunk!!
Jesus, somebody help me...!!! :|
PS: Happy Diwali folks!! Shall hopefully follow this up with a sane post..:)
What if I hadn't called myself Anupama Viswanathan?
What if I had a nick name and blogged?
What if I stopped blogging now?? :O
Geeh..I am in such a crazy mood now..:D..Feel like I am almost drunk!!
Jesus, somebody help me...!!! :|
PS: Happy Diwali folks!! Shall hopefully follow this up with a sane post..:)
Friday, October 21, 2005
A story tree grows..
A branch added to Eroteme's story tree..
He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23.
Pushing his luggage under the seat, he sat close to the window. "Papa, when will you be back?" - his four year old daughter Munni asked innocently. He stared into those soft brown eyes of the motherless kid. He held her frail palms in his, through the window. "Munni, Papa will get you a nice gudiya from the city..Say tata," his sister spoke to the kid, to avoid an emotional outburst. In a minute, the train pulled forward, and Munni's little fingers parted from between his. "I need to go..", he thought, "I have to, at least for Munni's sake.."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Everything below the dashed line above should be copied and pasted with every accepted tag)
This is a Story Tree and is best nurtured as follows:
1. A blogger can add only 90-100 words (not more or less) at a time
2. All previous snippets of 90-100 words need to be copied before the new set of 90-100 words are appended.
3. Each entire snippet should be linked to the respective author (and not just the first sentence or so)
4. Characters, scenes, etc. can be introduced by an author
5. Bizarre twists, sci-fi, fantasy sequences are best avoided.
6. A tag must be accepted within 7 days else the branch is a dead branch
7. After appending 90-100, the Story Tree can be passed on to at most 3 bloggers.
8. If more than 1 branch leads to a blogger, s/he is free to choose any one of them but cannot mix the snippets of the individual branches.
9. The Story Tree is best left to grow than concluded
10. Please attach the image of the Story Tree below with each accepted tag (the link address can be copied and used).
I would like to tag Rathish, RS and Ammani, to continue this story..
He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23.
Pushing his luggage under the seat, he sat close to the window. "Papa, when will you be back?" - his four year old daughter Munni asked innocently. He stared into those soft brown eyes of the motherless kid. He held her frail palms in his, through the window. "Munni, Papa will get you a nice gudiya from the city..Say tata," his sister spoke to the kid, to avoid an emotional outburst. In a minute, the train pulled forward, and Munni's little fingers parted from between his. "I need to go..", he thought, "I have to, at least for Munni's sake.."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Everything below the dashed line above should be copied and pasted with every accepted tag)
This is a Story Tree and is best nurtured as follows:
1. A blogger can add only 90-100 words (not more or less) at a time
2. All previous snippets of 90-100 words need to be copied before the new set of 90-100 words are appended.
3. Each entire snippet should be linked to the respective author (and not just the first sentence or so)
4. Characters, scenes, etc. can be introduced by an author
5. Bizarre twists, sci-fi, fantasy sequences are best avoided.
6. A tag must be accepted within 7 days else the branch is a dead branch
7. After appending 90-100, the Story Tree can be passed on to at most 3 bloggers.
8. If more than 1 branch leads to a blogger, s/he is free to choose any one of them but cannot mix the snippets of the individual branches.
9. The Story Tree is best left to grow than concluded
10. Please attach the image of the Story Tree below with each accepted tag (the link address can be copied and used).
I would like to tag Rathish, RS and Ammani, to continue this story..
Friday, October 14, 2005
To BITS, with love
Today, I talk of a small place that housed many dreams, aspirations and a single spirit that bound many people together. It housed me, a tiny dot in that big ocean.
Some months back, Amrita asked me, "You are still rooted to that place, aren't you?" That shouldn't come as a surprise. The place she was talking about, is a speck in the Rajasthan map: Pilani. That day, she was the victim of my rambling.
What would you call this - Irony? I talk of a place that has almost been shadowed, after the turn of events in my life. I came out an engineer, and now I am a writer. I think of this place and all the events linked to it, everyday, even if it means, in a trivial way. It's almost four years since I graduated and the bitsian slang still refuses to slip out of my routine..
It simply isn't easy to forget. The moments of pride that came with wearing those bitsian tee-shirts, the hungama in the trains, when travelling from Madras to Delhi and back, the group of friends that came together in the most unusual way, the first birthday at BITS with people painting your face, the corridors, the classrooms, the EEE lectures, the never ending list of tests, the mess food, the lawns, the 5 maddening days of OASIS, the spirit of our cultural departments, the innumerable treats, the blooming romances, the crushes, the trips, the laughs, the smiles, the sighs and the tears, the affection of the sweetest friend, her never ending support, the solitary rides on my bicycle round the campus, the chilly winters, the warm razais, the lazy wintry afternoons, the beautiful february spring,
the miserable summer heat, the tired PCs, the gossips, the small monthly budgets, my room, my cupboard, my table, my bank account, the home sickness, the letters (no, not mails), the night outs, the gatecalls, the professionalism that grew in you, the small successes, the heart breaking failures, the spirit to fight on, the 'just for the heck of it' pictures, the farewells,the second home, the people, their variety, the place, the place made most beautiful by the people in it..It's they who carved the beautiful memories that I cherish now..It simply isn't easy to forget.
Talk about reflections. Now, hasn't it really been a while?
Sometimes I wonder why I resist change so much, why I find it so difficult to go with the flow. Friends, with whom I have spent almost every minute of my time, now seem so distant and far away. In no time, our lives have taken totally different paths, from a period where we flowed together.
Change, it is so hard to live with. But, that's the way life works.. It's tough, but I just move on, holding these memories along..
This is to BITS, with love..
Some months back, Amrita asked me, "You are still rooted to that place, aren't you?" That shouldn't come as a surprise. The place she was talking about, is a speck in the Rajasthan map: Pilani. That day, she was the victim of my rambling.
What would you call this - Irony? I talk of a place that has almost been shadowed, after the turn of events in my life. I came out an engineer, and now I am a writer. I think of this place and all the events linked to it, everyday, even if it means, in a trivial way. It's almost four years since I graduated and the bitsian slang still refuses to slip out of my routine..
It simply isn't easy to forget. The moments of pride that came with wearing those bitsian tee-shirts, the hungama in the trains, when travelling from Madras to Delhi and back, the group of friends that came together in the most unusual way, the first birthday at BITS with people painting your face, the corridors, the classrooms, the EEE lectures, the never ending list of tests, the mess food, the lawns, the 5 maddening days of OASIS, the spirit of our cultural departments, the innumerable treats, the blooming romances, the crushes, the trips, the laughs, the smiles, the sighs and the tears, the affection of the sweetest friend, her never ending support, the solitary rides on my bicycle round the campus, the chilly winters, the warm razais, the lazy wintry afternoons, the beautiful february spring,
the miserable summer heat, the tired PCs, the gossips, the small monthly budgets, my room, my cupboard, my table, my bank account, the home sickness, the letters (no, not mails), the night outs, the gatecalls, the professionalism that grew in you, the small successes, the heart breaking failures, the spirit to fight on, the 'just for the heck of it' pictures, the farewells,the second home, the people, their variety, the place, the place made most beautiful by the people in it..It's they who carved the beautiful memories that I cherish now..It simply isn't easy to forget.
Talk about reflections. Now, hasn't it really been a while?
Sometimes I wonder why I resist change so much, why I find it so difficult to go with the flow. Friends, with whom I have spent almost every minute of my time, now seem so distant and far away. In no time, our lives have taken totally different paths, from a period where we flowed together.
Change, it is so hard to live with. But, that's the way life works.. It's tough, but I just move on, holding these memories along..
This is to BITS, with love..
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
When every word counts..
Dreams. They rose like high tides, crashing against my heart, dying as silent whispers on my lips. I watched them play; Beauty, Paradox, Passion, Trust.
Finally, I spoke, you didn’t. You smiled.
Today you bend down, to place roses on my grave. I see them. Tears. My man, don't..please don't..it hurts, worse than death, sweetheart..
(Thanks RS , for the 55 word tag..)
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
14 days!! :O
I think I have been really unfair to my blog this time. The guilty me has been cribbing about it quite elaborately to my close friends. Anyways, I hope to put up something soon. In the meantime I thought I should cheer myself up and here is a joke that I happened to get from one of my colleagues.
"Friends of Women:
A wife was not at home for a whole night. So she tells her husband, the
very next morning, that she stayed at her (girl) friend's apartment
overnight. So the husband calls 10 of her best (girl) friends and none
of them confirm that she was with them.
Friends of Men:
A husband was not at home for a whole night. So he tells his wife the very
next morning, that he stayed at his friend's apartment over night. So
the wife calls 10 of his best friends and 5 of them confirm that he stayed
at their apartments that night and another 5 are claiming that he is still
with them!! "
Moral of the story: Men always have better friends...They will stand by you, no matter what....!!!
My comment: Ohhhhhhh...Phuleeeeeezzzzeeeee!
(With due thanks to yahoo for the smiley!! :))
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Tagged, yet again!
Ok, am tagged again, by Agnibarathi..so, here I go!!
Seven things you plan to do before you die
Buy a lancer and take my parents around
Get into developmental journalism
Own a small library of my own
Write stories for children
Go on a European tour
put on weight ;)
and of course, freak out!
Seven things you can do
I can..
eat pastries
care immensely for those who I love
write pages and pages of nonsense
crib like crazy and throw tantrums
enjoy sweet nothings in life
be a patient listener
work really, really hard
Seven things you say most
I say..
Nonsense
Shut up
Please..
Very funny
Chalo, gtg
aah..amma
romba nalladhu
Seven things you can't do
I can't..
watch hindi serials
go without sleep
eat non veg
drink coffee
stay without books, music and writing
stand people who act too smart
wear heavy make-up
Seven things that attract you to the opposite sex
Intelligence
Creativity
Chivalry
Humour
6 feet height
Mischevous eyes
deep voice
Seven celebrity crushes
Narayan Murthy
Madhavan
A.R.R
Yanni
Pete Sampras
Kannadasan
Maniratnam
And let me tag..
S m i t h a
Kumari
Vinesh
Biju
Seven things you plan to do before you die
Buy a lancer and take my parents around
Get into developmental journalism
Own a small library of my own
Write stories for children
Go on a European tour
put on weight ;)
and of course, freak out!
Seven things you can do
I can..
eat pastries
care immensely for those who I love
write pages and pages of nonsense
crib like crazy and throw tantrums
enjoy sweet nothings in life
be a patient listener
work really, really hard
Seven things you say most
I say..
Nonsense
Shut up
Please..
Very funny
Chalo, gtg
aah..amma
romba nalladhu
Seven things you can't do
I can't..
watch hindi serials
go without sleep
eat non veg
drink coffee
stay without books, music and writing
stand people who act too smart
wear heavy make-up
Seven things that attract you to the opposite sex
Intelligence
Creativity
Chivalry
Humour
6 feet height
Mischevous eyes
deep voice
Seven celebrity crushes
Narayan Murthy
Madhavan
A.R.R
Yanni
Pete Sampras
Kannadasan
Maniratnam
And let me tag..
S m i t h a
Kumari
Vinesh
Biju
Friday, September 02, 2005
Ouch..
The last few days have been tight; long hours at work, plenty of running around; The few 'in-between' minutes were religiously spent on a favourite book and of course, there has been very little sleep. And did I say that my head hurts and I miss something?
Doesn't matter, after all that cribbing, I am still grinning wide..because there is some good news.. Yeh!! I am going home!! :)
Friday, August 26, 2005
Unwanted
Am finally here, I beamed
In a world that I dreamed
When I saw grandma's lip curl
And say it is a baby girl..
Unfamiliar it all seemed
As all the men screamed
This day that I bloomed
They said all was doomed..
Where first cries were treasured
In angry voices they were buried
We want her no more, they said
It's only ill luck I bred..
I meant good to none
Save her, the only one,
One, who would stop to bother
She, my poor dear mother..
Yet, I felt her palm moisten
Momma,not this bad, bitter poison
Momma, give me your goo' food
Pray, why should I be done for good?
Minds crooked and bent, O'Gracious Death
Tell me, is this life's worth?
This world, I know, I shall never miss
Please silence me, with your kiss..
In a world that I dreamed
When I saw grandma's lip curl
And say it is a baby girl..
Unfamiliar it all seemed
As all the men screamed
This day that I bloomed
They said all was doomed..
Where first cries were treasured
In angry voices they were buried
We want her no more, they said
It's only ill luck I bred..
I meant good to none
Save her, the only one,
One, who would stop to bother
She, my poor dear mother..
Yet, I felt her palm moisten
Momma,not this bad, bitter poison
Momma, give me your goo' food
Pray, why should I be done for good?
Minds crooked and bent, O'Gracious Death
Tell me, is this life's worth?
This world, I know, I shall never miss
Please silence me, with your kiss..
Monday, August 08, 2005
Of brownies, hot chocolate and nut crunch! :)
And add some Kurkure to it, to spice up a perfect weekend delight! I ain't a food connoisseur but
- Isn't it a pleasure when you have a slab of brownie with walnuts generously strewn all over it and when you sink your teeth into it, a stream of thick chocolate flows like nectar out of nowhere. And before you realise, the slab has melted almost magically in your mouth..
- Isn't it a joy when you have steaming hot chocolate sitting inside a Barista outlet to beat the dampness outside..And you get to smell the unbeatable aroma of roasted coffee seeds ( Yeah, I hate coffee but not the aroma!)..
- Isn't it a delight when you have a single scoop of Baskin and Robbin's "Nut Crunch" icecream in absolute silence, sitting at Marine Drive when the cool evening breeze just ruffles your hair reminding you of dad's rare yet most treasured display of affection, as though he watched his young girl merrily finish her icecream off and ruffled her hair to give her that warmth of love..
- Isn't it priceless contentment when you lie down on your bed munching Kurkure and closing your eyes, listening to Sudha Ragunathan's brilliant rendering of "Thaye Yashodha", Kalyani Menon's Thodi Alaap and Rajesh Vaidhya's one minute Veena Performance..
Bliss, in a 'nut' shell. Simple Pleasures, for which I would pay anything..:)
- Isn't it a pleasure when you have a slab of brownie with walnuts generously strewn all over it and when you sink your teeth into it, a stream of thick chocolate flows like nectar out of nowhere. And before you realise, the slab has melted almost magically in your mouth..
- Isn't it a joy when you have steaming hot chocolate sitting inside a Barista outlet to beat the dampness outside..And you get to smell the unbeatable aroma of roasted coffee seeds ( Yeah, I hate coffee but not the aroma!)..
- Isn't it a delight when you have a single scoop of Baskin and Robbin's "Nut Crunch" icecream in absolute silence, sitting at Marine Drive when the cool evening breeze just ruffles your hair reminding you of dad's rare yet most treasured display of affection, as though he watched his young girl merrily finish her icecream off and ruffled her hair to give her that warmth of love..
- Isn't it priceless contentment when you lie down on your bed munching Kurkure and closing your eyes, listening to Sudha Ragunathan's brilliant rendering of "Thaye Yashodha", Kalyani Menon's Thodi Alaap and Rajesh Vaidhya's one minute Veena Performance..
Bliss, in a 'nut' shell. Simple Pleasures, for which I would pay anything..:)
Friday, August 05, 2005
She..
Fluttering lashes
Dreamy eyes
Cherry lips
Flashing smile
Slender waist
Tender hands
Butter skin
Long legs
Dazzling skirt
Jingling anklets
Heavenly grace
Pretty woman
(Only left with..)
Lifeless living
Hurting shame
Unspoken word
Pricking pain
Cloudy eyes
Pearly drops
Deadly void
Cruel fate
Freezing gaze
Healing touch
Dream man
Beyond reach
Caressed dreams
Unfulfilled desires
Everyone's woman
Yet noone's..
Dreamy eyes
Cherry lips
Flashing smile
Slender waist
Tender hands
Butter skin
Long legs
Dazzling skirt
Jingling anklets
Heavenly grace
Pretty woman
(Only left with..)
Lifeless living
Hurting shame
Unspoken word
Pricking pain
Cloudy eyes
Pearly drops
Deadly void
Cruel fate
Freezing gaze
Healing touch
Dream man
Beyond reach
Caressed dreams
Unfulfilled desires
Everyone's woman
Yet noone's..
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
A night to remember
It is one of those really, really rare days where the media house doesn't look like one. In a place which buzzes uncontrollably with activity, a relaxed mood seems to have dawned. While I type this, a section of the office is busy playing dumbC's and mind you, the Ed is also much a part of it!!
As for me, I am loving this feeling of "all to myself" and I have stopped to look at my blog at such a slow pace that I haven't managed in the last so many months (There is a bonus post too!). Today, the rains beat down like crazy and the whole city of Bombay is flooded, traffic's stuck and I am sitting at office; I seriously don't give a damn to how I will go back to my hostel. I will reach late, may be 12 or 1, in the night. But who is bothered? I just love sitting like this..It has been so long..
It is 10:45 now, and my friend and I plan to go out for dinner and then get back home..God only knows if we would go back. But who cares, because, isn't this a new way of life? And if not anybody else, I am crazily in love, in love with this life!! :)
Updates: Ask for dinner, McDonald's, Domino's, Subway, Barista say they have nothing left!!!
As for me, I am loving this feeling of "all to myself" and I have stopped to look at my blog at such a slow pace that I haven't managed in the last so many months (There is a bonus post too!). Today, the rains beat down like crazy and the whole city of Bombay is flooded, traffic's stuck and I am sitting at office; I seriously don't give a damn to how I will go back to my hostel. I will reach late, may be 12 or 1, in the night. But who is bothered? I just love sitting like this..It has been so long..
It is 10:45 now, and my friend and I plan to go out for dinner and then get back home..God only knows if we would go back. But who cares, because, isn't this a new way of life? And if not anybody else, I am crazily in love, in love with this life!! :)
Updates: Ask for dinner, McDonald's, Domino's, Subway, Barista say they have nothing left!!!
Dil Se..
Sometimes life could give you nothing but pain; it couldn't hurt worse..
For he suddenly landed from nowhere, giving all that somebody could ever give, in unbounded measures; countless smiles, sweet nothings aplenty, a warm presence all time, even without being around, leaving her utterly pampered, letting her be the lucky star, his sweet little kid..
And as the days rolled by, the sweet addiction went on a high, till a drop slowly came upfront; and when every previous day felt better than the present, when silence, emptiness and uneasiness hung over conversations, when what came without asking, now promised to come, but after a demand, she knew things were never the same again..
And what was it but her own ego, that yearned for his attention, but still refused to accept that he was being missed, with all that being left behind to hug were those warm memories, a defeated feeling and the silence that came with it all; and she, who would never blame him but herself for getting so involved, waited and waited, with all her hope, for she still liked him, immensely..
For he suddenly landed from nowhere, giving all that somebody could ever give, in unbounded measures; countless smiles, sweet nothings aplenty, a warm presence all time, even without being around, leaving her utterly pampered, letting her be the lucky star, his sweet little kid..
And as the days rolled by, the sweet addiction went on a high, till a drop slowly came upfront; and when every previous day felt better than the present, when silence, emptiness and uneasiness hung over conversations, when what came without asking, now promised to come, but after a demand, she knew things were never the same again..
And what was it but her own ego, that yearned for his attention, but still refused to accept that he was being missed, with all that being left behind to hug were those warm memories, a defeated feeling and the silence that came with it all; and she, who would never blame him but herself for getting so involved, waited and waited, with all her hope, for she still liked him, immensely..
Monday, July 25, 2005
This is what happens..
This is what happens when you buy your dream Titan Raga watch and blogger lets you upload pictures..:)
P.S: This is also what happens when you don't know what to do during weekends!!
P.S: This is also what happens when you don't know what to do during weekends!!
Friday, July 15, 2005
Moments to grasp
Shades of change unwound sequentially as I walked down that path, that familiar path that I had paced up and down with unmistakable precision as an eight year old. New shops, some new houses. But amongst them, stood those houses that have endured the test of time. It is a pleasure to watch things that have been stamped with an archaism that would never be victimized by the forces of modernity.
The 2nd cross street of ThiruVika Nagar, in Thirucharapalli, was more than a street to me. It had nurtured my dreams as a child. It demonstrated a freshness about it that had lasted years and beat the gap of 17 years in between. It felt like just yesterday that I had belonged to this place but I had still missed 'its presence and my presence in it' and the unique charm that came with it.
“New door no. 24, old number 72,” I quickly checked that small bit of crumpled paper that was almost yielding to the moisture of my palm. Appa had insisted that I should go and meet them this time.
“Black gates,” I smiled to myself. “They used to be hmm…green.”
I pushed the gate inward and it creaked open. As I set my foot on the stone pavement that had weathered everything in the years that went by, I looked up to that balcony right above, the thatched roof over it still intact. My entire body shook. God! Sometimes nostalgia can just offset you.
For a moment I just closed my eyes. It was the same balcony where I had stood years ago, waving good bye to my father when he left for office. It was the same balcony where I had stood, hot tears pouring down my cheeks, when they got my baby bro home, for the first time. I was no longer ‘the one’ then.
“And Aditya now..” I smiled to myself.
The veranda at the end of the footpath welcomed me with the same warmth with which it had borne my pranks as a mischievous kid. I would tirelessly climb on it and jump off it, in a loop that would end only with a tight slap from my mother.
I thought I would collapse out of excitement when I rang the doorbell.
“Vandhutten (Coming)”, the familiar lady voice came from behind the door. It hadn’t changed much, the voice, just traces of ageing.
As the door opened, I caught myself staring at this lady, who wore her sari in a ‘madisar kattu’. The vermilion, the glittering nose ring, the traditional hairdo with a string of jasmine encircling it; Lakshmi Amma, there she was and..She had aged so gracefully.
“Yaaru. Yaar venum?” (Who is this? Who do you want?)
“Ahh..Hmm..Lakshmi Amma..” I spoke in between gasps of excitement. “Do you recognize me?”
She stared with confusion written all over her face.
“Lakshmi Amma, Shailaja..,” I placed my right palm on my chest. “Shailu kutty..” I paused. “Enakku Lakshmi Amma rasam thaan venum..” ( I want only Lakshmi Amma’s rasam..)
And her face broke into a smile.
“Shailu Kutty, is this you?” She almost jumped and held my hand immediately. “How grown up you look. I couldn’t even make out,” she exclaimed.
I smiled. I was at loss for words.
“Inga parungo” (see here), she called out to her husband. “Come here, see who has come”
“Come in, come in,” she took me in hurriedly.
“Yaaru?” (Who?) a man in a white dhoti and a white cotton half slack shirt and thick rimmed glasses emerged from one of the inside rooms.
Sambu thatha adjusted his glasses, trying to register the image of a woman who suddenly landed in his abode from nowhere.
“Can you make out who she is?” Lakshmi Amma questioned, impatience marking every word. Sambu thatha just shook a no. I watched his lean frame seeking immense support from the wooden walking stick, an addition to the 84 year old man’s personality.
“Shailu kutty idhu, nenavirukko?” (This is Shailu kutty, remember?) “State Bank Ramachandran who stayed upstairs.. from Coimbatore..his daughter..”
“Oh amaam..adi vaalu..” (Oh yes, you mischievous girl!)
“Va..Va..” (Come, come). The warmth in his voice made me melt. How much I had missed it all these years. Though we had stayed upstairs, Sambu thatha’s house was literally where my existence had been. I would play, run around the house, nobody to question, most of the times eat there and fall asleep in Lakshmi Amma’s lap.
The affection that I had held for that house, for the two was special and unbounded. It was marked by innocence so typical of a child and there was no other reason to it. I loved them because I loved them.
“So, what made Shailu kutty suddenly remember these two old hags?” went on Sambu thatha with his characteristic laugh.
“Oh come on, enough of your silly jokes,” Lakshmi Amma cut him short as I deposited the sweet packets into her hands.
“Are you working?” she asked me.
“Hmm..yes, I am working for a software concern in Delhi,” I replied.
“Ohh..soft..” she stopped halfway. “That thing Raju keeps talking about..”
“Tell me how are amma and appa”
“They are good. They keep talking about you,” I paused. “Oh, Appa has retired.”
“Really? Even Chandru joins the old hag list,” burst out Sambu thatha.
I giggled. I really did. Lakshmi Amma wasn’t bothered. She almost sprang her next question at me.
“How is your brother..ahmm..what is his name?”
“Aditya,” I helped in.
“Ahnn..Adi, how is he?”
“He is studying, 2nd year engineering in Madras. He has been pestering Appa for a bike.”
“Really? Has he grown that big?” Sambu thatha questioned the very essence of mankind - growth.
It is funny the way I addressed them. Sambu thatha was thatha because when I saw him for the first time, he had grey (or as I used to call it, “white”) hair. I used to jump at my mom when she called him maama. “He has white hair. How can you call him maama. Call him thatha,” I would order.
Sambu thatha was 67 then. Lakshmi Amma was Lakshmi Amma because everyone around used to call her that way and somehow she never used to look that old then, that I would have to call her ‘patti’. Moreover, Radha akka, her daughter, used to call her Lakshmi Amma. I had liked it, felt it suited her best and let it stick on.
“So, when are you getting married?” Lakshmi Amma continued with her questions as she handed over steaming filter coffee in a “duvrah tumbler” to me and one to Sambu thatha. I had cosily seated myself on the mat alongside Sambu thatha who was resting in an easy chair. A copy of the day’s newspaper and that old transistor was lying next to him. Lakshmi Amma sat down beside me.
“I actually came to tell you some good news,” I said.
Sambu thatha who was busy tuning into odd stations, desperately in search of the “renu mani kutcheri” (the concert at 2), stopped suddenly.
In a minute, both of them were staring at me with all eagerness. “Marriage fascinates old people beyond any scale,” I thought to myself.
“Ah, well, I am getting married this September,” I concluded abruptly.
Sambu thatha leaned forward.
“Who is the boy?” he asked with brimming eagerness.
“He is my colleague at office, in Delhi.”
Lakshmi Amma’s happy look transformed into a resigned one.
“So, it is not an arranged marriage?” she asked quickly.
“Well, it is..” I paused, “Yes, I did choose him but he is like one of us,” I put it forward politely to her. I didn’t know why I was telling her that but I thought I should and hence I did.
“But..” she shook her head. “There is nothing like your parents seeing somebody for you.”
“Did you match horoscopes?” she shot out.
“Oh.ah..hmm..yes, we did, everything is fine,” I mumbled out owing to lack of preparation.
“But still..”
“Lakshmi, these days kids are very mature. They can handle things very well. I am sure Shailu kutty’s choice must be good,” Sambu thatha spoke reassuringly, patting my head.
“Love marriages are fun in their own way,” he added with a wink.
Lakshmi Amma cast a sharp look that almost silenced him.
“Ennavo ma, pathukko” (Whatever, take care), she said, turning her face towards me. Anxiety was written all over it.
“Lakshmi Amma, everything is fine,” I assured her, gently pressing her hand.
“What is his name?” Sambu thatha’s excitement hadn’t subsided.
“Vasanth, Vasant Chandrashekar”
“So, tell me, how has life been for you all these years?” I asked them.
“just going on. We have only few more years left, all I am praying for is that we should pass away peacefully without troubling anybody,” Lakshmi Amma’s voice was low.
“Enna Lakshmi, you don’t know what to talk,” Sambu thatha intervened.
“Thatha please, let her talk”
“Illai Shailu kut..,” I looked up at Sambu thatha. “Shhh..”
“Lakshmi Amma, what happened?”
Suddenly Lakshmi Amma’s voice mellowed down.
“Nothing. Sometimes it is so tough to live when you grow old,” she looked up and blew her nose.
I took her hand into mine and looked intently at her.”Ennachu?” (what happened?)
“Nothing is particularly wrong Shailu kutty. We have everything that we want. We have this house, we have thatha’s pension as a steady income and we do our pujas and prayers regularly.”
“Hmm…”
“But..” she paused, “Sometimes there is loneliness, a lack of direction in life when you turn around to see that there is no one around to share your happiness. When we fall ill, we have nobody to fall back on. It is true that we have each other to confide things in but I am missing the joy of living together,” By that time, her first tear had already made its way out.
I let her cry. I didn’t assure her, say things would be fine. Sometimes silence and the mere act of listening could heal wounds much more than words of consolation, so did I believe.
“Sambhu thatha, what about Raju anna and Kumar anna? Where are they?”
“They are both in America, all well settled,” he paused. “Raju has two daughters and Kumar has a son. They come to India with their families once in two years.”
“Hmm..”
“Radha is in the U.K. Seeing her has become a rarity too,” continued Lakshmi Amma.
“Sambhu thatha, don’t mind me asking, but didn’t you want to stay with your sons?”
“No,” his voice was fierce this time. “No,” he repeated, relaxing a little bit.
“Kumar didn’t even talk about it, Raju just made a mention. He told us that we could come along if we felt like.” His voice choked.
“What is this, a formality? Why should parents suddenly become strangers and be treated this way?” the question shot out from him, with all the heaviness of a deeply pained heart.
“I refused. I really can’t spend my life in a country that I don’t know. I am too rooted to this place, to leave it behind. Probably, I can’t blame them too. Their lives have taken that course and I can’t stop it. Once Raju had a chance to come back to India for good. I asked him, but..” Silence.
“I think I just have to accept this,” he spoke his heart out. I knew it was frustration that made them talk and not the hate for what their children did.
Lakshmi Amma was silent. “I think when things become unmanageable, we would go to an old age home. I am praying ambaal she doesn’t take us that far.”
That moment, I understood what emotional torture the two went through. Two people, whose love meant so much to me, were caught in the clutches of emotional insecurity and my heart swelled with pity. I cried; cried within.
In the meantime, Lakshmi Amma had moved into the kitchen and come back with a plate of rasam saadham. (Rice with rasam).
“Have this,” she handed the plate to me. I couldn’t remember how many times I had smiled but I did, yet again.
The rasam had not lost its taste and its aroma one bit. It was just the same. Have you ever experienced a sense of travelling back in time, that the five senses can give you? It happened to me this time. I was back to have Lakshmi Amma’s rasam.
“You know, my grandchildren are so naughty,” she said, sounding chirpy again.
“Kumar’s son is so mischievous. Last time that they were here, he suddenly disappeared out of the house. We had such a tough task locating him. He was hiding behind the well, in our neighbour’s backyard,” Sambhu thatha added with great excitement. “These kids, naughty, very naughty.”
And then they spoke about Kumar anna’s wife and how Raju anna’s wife could drive a car. “It seems they don’t wash vessels, nor does a servant maid do it. Looks like there is a machine for all that. Times have changed so much,” she sighed.
I burst out laughing and Sambhu thatha was giggling quietly. The innocence was too sweet, and I knew their hearts were lighter. No qualms, except for those momentary ones, their love and concern for their children and grandchildren was unbiased and absolutely selfless.
By the time we had finished talking about my childhood pranks and everything else, the birds were getting back to their nests and the sky had turned a reddish orange, signaling the arrival of twilight. It was time for me to leave.
“I don’t feel like letting you go, it was so nice talking to you. I didn’t feel the time pass” Lakshmi Amma said looking at me earnestly.
I stood silently.
“You won’t forget us no, after you get married?,” she asked with grave concern in her voice.
“Ayyo, enna idhu Lakshmi Amma, how can I do that?”
“Shailu, forget her, she is like that only,” Sambu thatha chipped in his comment, “May God bless you with a happy and peaceful married life,” he said, placing his hand on my head.
“You should bring Vasanth here, after your marriage,” Lakshmi Amma said. Sambu thatha turned around, taken by surprise with that mocking smile on his face.
“You both should definitely come for the wedding,” I urged. “Please, I will be very happy.”
Lakshmi Amma pressed my hand. “We will try our best, but our blessings are always there.”
As I reached the gate, I turned around, took a look at the aged couple for whom the best gift I had left behind was the smiles on their faces, which they seemed to have forgotten for days together. For me, it was a feeling of satisfaction that I had made a very small difference to the lives of two people, at least for a day. But the bigger loss was, the helpless feeling at not being able to lend a hand further. I waved at them, walked away carrying beautiful memories and also an aching heart.
The 2nd cross street of ThiruVika Nagar, in Thirucharapalli, was more than a street to me. It had nurtured my dreams as a child. It demonstrated a freshness about it that had lasted years and beat the gap of 17 years in between. It felt like just yesterday that I had belonged to this place but I had still missed 'its presence and my presence in it' and the unique charm that came with it.
“New door no. 24, old number 72,” I quickly checked that small bit of crumpled paper that was almost yielding to the moisture of my palm. Appa had insisted that I should go and meet them this time.
“Black gates,” I smiled to myself. “They used to be hmm…green.”
I pushed the gate inward and it creaked open. As I set my foot on the stone pavement that had weathered everything in the years that went by, I looked up to that balcony right above, the thatched roof over it still intact. My entire body shook. God! Sometimes nostalgia can just offset you.
For a moment I just closed my eyes. It was the same balcony where I had stood years ago, waving good bye to my father when he left for office. It was the same balcony where I had stood, hot tears pouring down my cheeks, when they got my baby bro home, for the first time. I was no longer ‘the one’ then.
“And Aditya now..” I smiled to myself.
The veranda at the end of the footpath welcomed me with the same warmth with which it had borne my pranks as a mischievous kid. I would tirelessly climb on it and jump off it, in a loop that would end only with a tight slap from my mother.
I thought I would collapse out of excitement when I rang the doorbell.
“Vandhutten (Coming)”, the familiar lady voice came from behind the door. It hadn’t changed much, the voice, just traces of ageing.
As the door opened, I caught myself staring at this lady, who wore her sari in a ‘madisar kattu’. The vermilion, the glittering nose ring, the traditional hairdo with a string of jasmine encircling it; Lakshmi Amma, there she was and..She had aged so gracefully.
“Yaaru. Yaar venum?” (Who is this? Who do you want?)
“Ahh..Hmm..Lakshmi Amma..” I spoke in between gasps of excitement. “Do you recognize me?”
She stared with confusion written all over her face.
“Lakshmi Amma, Shailaja..,” I placed my right palm on my chest. “Shailu kutty..” I paused. “Enakku Lakshmi Amma rasam thaan venum..” ( I want only Lakshmi Amma’s rasam..)
And her face broke into a smile.
“Shailu Kutty, is this you?” She almost jumped and held my hand immediately. “How grown up you look. I couldn’t even make out,” she exclaimed.
I smiled. I was at loss for words.
“Inga parungo” (see here), she called out to her husband. “Come here, see who has come”
“Come in, come in,” she took me in hurriedly.
“Yaaru?” (Who?) a man in a white dhoti and a white cotton half slack shirt and thick rimmed glasses emerged from one of the inside rooms.
Sambu thatha adjusted his glasses, trying to register the image of a woman who suddenly landed in his abode from nowhere.
“Can you make out who she is?” Lakshmi Amma questioned, impatience marking every word. Sambu thatha just shook a no. I watched his lean frame seeking immense support from the wooden walking stick, an addition to the 84 year old man’s personality.
“Shailu kutty idhu, nenavirukko?” (This is Shailu kutty, remember?) “State Bank Ramachandran who stayed upstairs.. from Coimbatore..his daughter..”
“Oh amaam..adi vaalu..” (Oh yes, you mischievous girl!)
“Va..Va..” (Come, come). The warmth in his voice made me melt. How much I had missed it all these years. Though we had stayed upstairs, Sambu thatha’s house was literally where my existence had been. I would play, run around the house, nobody to question, most of the times eat there and fall asleep in Lakshmi Amma’s lap.
The affection that I had held for that house, for the two was special and unbounded. It was marked by innocence so typical of a child and there was no other reason to it. I loved them because I loved them.
“So, what made Shailu kutty suddenly remember these two old hags?” went on Sambu thatha with his characteristic laugh.
“Oh come on, enough of your silly jokes,” Lakshmi Amma cut him short as I deposited the sweet packets into her hands.
“Are you working?” she asked me.
“Hmm..yes, I am working for a software concern in Delhi,” I replied.
“Ohh..soft..” she stopped halfway. “That thing Raju keeps talking about..”
“Tell me how are amma and appa”
“They are good. They keep talking about you,” I paused. “Oh, Appa has retired.”
“Really? Even Chandru joins the old hag list,” burst out Sambu thatha.
I giggled. I really did. Lakshmi Amma wasn’t bothered. She almost sprang her next question at me.
“How is your brother..ahmm..what is his name?”
“Aditya,” I helped in.
“Ahnn..Adi, how is he?”
“He is studying, 2nd year engineering in Madras. He has been pestering Appa for a bike.”
“Really? Has he grown that big?” Sambu thatha questioned the very essence of mankind - growth.
It is funny the way I addressed them. Sambu thatha was thatha because when I saw him for the first time, he had grey (or as I used to call it, “white”) hair. I used to jump at my mom when she called him maama. “He has white hair. How can you call him maama. Call him thatha,” I would order.
Sambu thatha was 67 then. Lakshmi Amma was Lakshmi Amma because everyone around used to call her that way and somehow she never used to look that old then, that I would have to call her ‘patti’. Moreover, Radha akka, her daughter, used to call her Lakshmi Amma. I had liked it, felt it suited her best and let it stick on.
“So, when are you getting married?” Lakshmi Amma continued with her questions as she handed over steaming filter coffee in a “duvrah tumbler” to me and one to Sambu thatha. I had cosily seated myself on the mat alongside Sambu thatha who was resting in an easy chair. A copy of the day’s newspaper and that old transistor was lying next to him. Lakshmi Amma sat down beside me.
“I actually came to tell you some good news,” I said.
Sambu thatha who was busy tuning into odd stations, desperately in search of the “renu mani kutcheri” (the concert at 2), stopped suddenly.
In a minute, both of them were staring at me with all eagerness. “Marriage fascinates old people beyond any scale,” I thought to myself.
“Ah, well, I am getting married this September,” I concluded abruptly.
Sambu thatha leaned forward.
“Who is the boy?” he asked with brimming eagerness.
“He is my colleague at office, in Delhi.”
Lakshmi Amma’s happy look transformed into a resigned one.
“So, it is not an arranged marriage?” she asked quickly.
“Well, it is..” I paused, “Yes, I did choose him but he is like one of us,” I put it forward politely to her. I didn’t know why I was telling her that but I thought I should and hence I did.
“But..” she shook her head. “There is nothing like your parents seeing somebody for you.”
“Did you match horoscopes?” she shot out.
“Oh.ah..hmm..yes, we did, everything is fine,” I mumbled out owing to lack of preparation.
“But still..”
“Lakshmi, these days kids are very mature. They can handle things very well. I am sure Shailu kutty’s choice must be good,” Sambu thatha spoke reassuringly, patting my head.
“Love marriages are fun in their own way,” he added with a wink.
Lakshmi Amma cast a sharp look that almost silenced him.
“Ennavo ma, pathukko” (Whatever, take care), she said, turning her face towards me. Anxiety was written all over it.
“Lakshmi Amma, everything is fine,” I assured her, gently pressing her hand.
“What is his name?” Sambu thatha’s excitement hadn’t subsided.
“Vasanth, Vasant Chandrashekar”
“So, tell me, how has life been for you all these years?” I asked them.
“just going on. We have only few more years left, all I am praying for is that we should pass away peacefully without troubling anybody,” Lakshmi Amma’s voice was low.
“Enna Lakshmi, you don’t know what to talk,” Sambu thatha intervened.
“Thatha please, let her talk”
“Illai Shailu kut..,” I looked up at Sambu thatha. “Shhh..”
“Lakshmi Amma, what happened?”
Suddenly Lakshmi Amma’s voice mellowed down.
“Nothing. Sometimes it is so tough to live when you grow old,” she looked up and blew her nose.
I took her hand into mine and looked intently at her.”Ennachu?” (what happened?)
“Nothing is particularly wrong Shailu kutty. We have everything that we want. We have this house, we have thatha’s pension as a steady income and we do our pujas and prayers regularly.”
“Hmm…”
“But..” she paused, “Sometimes there is loneliness, a lack of direction in life when you turn around to see that there is no one around to share your happiness. When we fall ill, we have nobody to fall back on. It is true that we have each other to confide things in but I am missing the joy of living together,” By that time, her first tear had already made its way out.
I let her cry. I didn’t assure her, say things would be fine. Sometimes silence and the mere act of listening could heal wounds much more than words of consolation, so did I believe.
“Sambhu thatha, what about Raju anna and Kumar anna? Where are they?”
“They are both in America, all well settled,” he paused. “Raju has two daughters and Kumar has a son. They come to India with their families once in two years.”
“Hmm..”
“Radha is in the U.K. Seeing her has become a rarity too,” continued Lakshmi Amma.
“Sambhu thatha, don’t mind me asking, but didn’t you want to stay with your sons?”
“No,” his voice was fierce this time. “No,” he repeated, relaxing a little bit.
“Kumar didn’t even talk about it, Raju just made a mention. He told us that we could come along if we felt like.” His voice choked.
“What is this, a formality? Why should parents suddenly become strangers and be treated this way?” the question shot out from him, with all the heaviness of a deeply pained heart.
“I refused. I really can’t spend my life in a country that I don’t know. I am too rooted to this place, to leave it behind. Probably, I can’t blame them too. Their lives have taken that course and I can’t stop it. Once Raju had a chance to come back to India for good. I asked him, but..” Silence.
“I think I just have to accept this,” he spoke his heart out. I knew it was frustration that made them talk and not the hate for what their children did.
Lakshmi Amma was silent. “I think when things become unmanageable, we would go to an old age home. I am praying ambaal she doesn’t take us that far.”
That moment, I understood what emotional torture the two went through. Two people, whose love meant so much to me, were caught in the clutches of emotional insecurity and my heart swelled with pity. I cried; cried within.
In the meantime, Lakshmi Amma had moved into the kitchen and come back with a plate of rasam saadham. (Rice with rasam).
“Have this,” she handed the plate to me. I couldn’t remember how many times I had smiled but I did, yet again.
The rasam had not lost its taste and its aroma one bit. It was just the same. Have you ever experienced a sense of travelling back in time, that the five senses can give you? It happened to me this time. I was back to have Lakshmi Amma’s rasam.
“You know, my grandchildren are so naughty,” she said, sounding chirpy again.
“Kumar’s son is so mischievous. Last time that they were here, he suddenly disappeared out of the house. We had such a tough task locating him. He was hiding behind the well, in our neighbour’s backyard,” Sambhu thatha added with great excitement. “These kids, naughty, very naughty.”
And then they spoke about Kumar anna’s wife and how Raju anna’s wife could drive a car. “It seems they don’t wash vessels, nor does a servant maid do it. Looks like there is a machine for all that. Times have changed so much,” she sighed.
I burst out laughing and Sambhu thatha was giggling quietly. The innocence was too sweet, and I knew their hearts were lighter. No qualms, except for those momentary ones, their love and concern for their children and grandchildren was unbiased and absolutely selfless.
By the time we had finished talking about my childhood pranks and everything else, the birds were getting back to their nests and the sky had turned a reddish orange, signaling the arrival of twilight. It was time for me to leave.
“I don’t feel like letting you go, it was so nice talking to you. I didn’t feel the time pass” Lakshmi Amma said looking at me earnestly.
I stood silently.
“You won’t forget us no, after you get married?,” she asked with grave concern in her voice.
“Ayyo, enna idhu Lakshmi Amma, how can I do that?”
“Shailu, forget her, she is like that only,” Sambu thatha chipped in his comment, “May God bless you with a happy and peaceful married life,” he said, placing his hand on my head.
“You should bring Vasanth here, after your marriage,” Lakshmi Amma said. Sambu thatha turned around, taken by surprise with that mocking smile on his face.
“You both should definitely come for the wedding,” I urged. “Please, I will be very happy.”
Lakshmi Amma pressed my hand. “We will try our best, but our blessings are always there.”
As I reached the gate, I turned around, took a look at the aged couple for whom the best gift I had left behind was the smiles on their faces, which they seemed to have forgotten for days together. For me, it was a feeling of satisfaction that I had made a very small difference to the lives of two people, at least for a day. But the bigger loss was, the helpless feeling at not being able to lend a hand further. I waved at them, walked away carrying beautiful memories and also an aching heart.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Lyrics that I fell for - II
Hmm..how about this? I would possibly call this a running series; this is an add on to an earlier post that I had published..This one is from "Pudiya Mugam" and the song is 'Kannukku Mai Azhagu' ..After great efforts of squeezing my brains in the morning to recollect the lyrics of both male and female versions of the song, I guess I was successful..Wanted to put it down before I forgot the lines again! :)..One of Vairamuthu's best and timeless works and something that I would cherish all my life..(Love those lines in italics).
The Male Version: (sung by Unnimenon):
kannukku mai azhagu
kavidhaikku poi azhagu
kannathil kuzhi azhagu
karkoondhal penn azhagu
Ilamaiku nadai azhagu, mudhumaikku narai azhagu
Kalvarku iravazhagu, kadhalrku nilavazhagu
nilavukku karai azhagu, paravaikku siragazhagu
avvaikku koon azhagu, annaikku sei azhagu..(kannukku)
vidikaalai vinazhagu, vidiyum varai penn azhagu
nelukku natrazhagu, thennaikku keetrazhagu
oorukku aarazhagu, urvalathil therazhagu
thamizhukku 'zha' azhagu, thalaivikku naanazhagu.. (kannukku)
The female version (sung by P.Susheela):
The style of writing is changed a little bit here..(In the charanam the word 'azhagu' occurs only once in a given line, unlike the male version, where it repeats twice)
kannukku mai azhagu
kavidhaikku poi azhagu
avaraikku poo azhagu
avarukku naan azhagu
mazhai nindra pinnalum ilai sindhum thuli azhagu
alai meendu ponalum karai konda nurai azhagu
imai kottum vinmingal iravodu thaan azhagu
ilamaaran kannukku epodhum naanazhagu..(kannukku)
anandha manjathil avizhndhalum kuzhal azhagu
adayala muthathil azhindhalum pottazhagu
pennodu kadhal vandhal pirai kooda perazhagu
ennodu nee irundhal irul kooda oar azhagu..(kannukku)
Again, With due credits to the lyricist and whoever owns the copyright:)
The Male Version: (sung by Unnimenon):
kannukku mai azhagu
kavidhaikku poi azhagu
kannathil kuzhi azhagu
karkoondhal penn azhagu
Ilamaiku nadai azhagu, mudhumaikku narai azhagu
Kalvarku iravazhagu, kadhalrku nilavazhagu
nilavukku karai azhagu, paravaikku siragazhagu
avvaikku koon azhagu, annaikku sei azhagu..(kannukku)
vidikaalai vinazhagu, vidiyum varai penn azhagu
nelukku natrazhagu, thennaikku keetrazhagu
oorukku aarazhagu, urvalathil therazhagu
thamizhukku 'zha' azhagu, thalaivikku naanazhagu.. (kannukku)
The female version (sung by P.Susheela):
The style of writing is changed a little bit here..(In the charanam the word 'azhagu' occurs only once in a given line, unlike the male version, where it repeats twice)
kannukku mai azhagu
kavidhaikku poi azhagu
avaraikku poo azhagu
avarukku naan azhagu
mazhai nindra pinnalum ilai sindhum thuli azhagu
alai meendu ponalum karai konda nurai azhagu
imai kottum vinmingal iravodu thaan azhagu
ilamaaran kannukku epodhum naanazhagu..(kannukku)
anandha manjathil avizhndhalum kuzhal azhagu
adayala muthathil azhindhalum pottazhagu
pennodu kadhal vandhal pirai kooda perazhagu
ennodu nee irundhal irul kooda oar azhagu..(kannukku)
Again, With due credits to the lyricist and whoever owns the copyright:)
Thursday, June 30, 2005
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