Thursday, March 31, 2011

My First Love Letter – Part 2

          So where did I leave? yes here, I really wanted to say that, I reached here safely by night (thank God he is OK). How is your studies? Well, I replied to myself, Oh, OK, I always think of you. Do not skip your study time. You should not idly waste your time. It is very important that you should study nicely and score high marks. Now I had an eerie feeling, that this letter is not a love letter, its just like what my mother and father sends me every month and a lot more and there was only one love in that letter, in the end part, lovingly Thomas.
          God I was doomed. That heart feeling might have happened to my lungs, I didn’t reply. He wrote again and in that he asked why didn’t I reply, that was a change because my parents don’t ask me to reply, I write when I need something. But here he specifically wrote asking me to reply. What should I write for a person who asks me to study and don’t waste my study time and all that? So I wrote, Dear Thomas, (that’s decent, right?) How are you? (that’s general) I hope you are fine (answer put in his mouth for him) I’m fine here (reply part). I’m sorry, I couldn’t reply to your letter as I felt it was my dad’s letter, if you really are feeling very brotherly, just skip the letter part, OK? I can’t stand advices. Then I filled with day to day happenings, jokes and the like as I had to fill my letter as he did. And I at the end wrote. This is how a letter should be, but I did end it far more than you expect. I concluded hoping you won’t reply, sincerely Meena.
          Within a week another letter arrived, for me I didn’t have the courage to open it because it was simply waste of my time. If he was thinking of taking out the love ghost out of me he did succeed, but anyway, my curiosity overtook me and I opened and to my surprise he had three sheets of paper full of information. This time he did write a paragraph of general things and 2 ½ pages advice. I could have strangled myself. But fate had other things in store.       I didn’t reply and he wrote thrice but I got only one letter and in that he asked why I didn’t reply to the other two. Then I knew I was being monitored by the hostel warden and she has the other two letters. Since these letters weren’t love letters, I went to her and asked, “Sister have you accidentally misplaced my letters?” No Meena, I have not misplaced any of your letters, I have withheld your letters purposely to show your parents and I have asked them to come immediately and meet me. “Holy Ghost”, where am I in wonderland or blunder land, “But sister, for what?” That, you will know when your parents arrive, I’ll say what I have to them. God, I felt so bad, I didn’t know, what to say, I just left her room and went straight to bed with the sinking feeling in my stomach. After two days, my parents arrived, my mom’s face was a sight to behold. Well, seeing my dad was a relief. Do you know what he said, “I was expecting this call during the first semester of college but anyway its not too late.” The poker faced sister arrived with the two letters in hand. She gave it to my dad and mom one each. Thank God, they each had one to read or else just imagine the humiliation of reading my love letter loudly and what a love letter. My mother started her firing, she was asking, who is he to write to my daughter, What does he think of himself to advice my daughter, well then I understood its the same modus operandi letter.  I felt like smiling genuinely. My dad didn’t speak a word, waited till my mom stopped and then he asked sister, “Sister, there is nothing in this letter, what’s wrong with it?” Sister got embarrassed, she said, “Meena received a love letter.” Oh I went sky high. I really asked her loudly, “Really? From whom?” My dad rolled his eyes.
           I’ll complete it tomorrow.
                    Just stay happy until tomorrow. Bye for now.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

My First Love Letter – Part 1

                    My life was shuttled from one boarding to another according to my parents transfers and my brother’s naughtiness. My parents ensured that we study in mixed school as to avoid love affairs and the complications of facing the opposite sex. I think their idea really worked well for me. Since I had been in mixed school from kindergarten there wasn’t any difference between girls and boys. We were all “Friends”.
          And boarding schools are the best place to thrive on intricate details of love affairs and love letters. But unlucky me I didn’t even get a single love letter in my school life and I really wanted to read a love letter because the person who gets it keeps it so secretly (due to fear of the boarding mistress getting hold of it) that any chance of a free read was impossible. My only relief was I had company in that sector too. My friends, (in every school I had 1 Best friend and 2 good friends) after my adolescence were in the same boat as me, we really missed the best part of school and that too from a mixed school. Anyway I couldn’t contain my curiosity that I had to ask my father what matter is written in a love letter, that they go on reading and reading and they smile to themselves and they are just happy all the while.
          Well, my father might have had the shock of life when he had to answer the first question from his adolescent daughter, but at that time I didn’t give much thought of asking it to anybody else. Anyway my dad replied, “Well as far as I know, they write, My heart throb, my shiver of the heart, my smile of my lips,..”. “Daaaaad, are you crazy? In this age do they really write these type of stuff? Gggod what boring, no thanks, I do not want to get such letters, especially with those dialogues.” That was finished and the chapter was closed. My school life came to an all time close.
          I was enrolled in a mixed college and my eyes were silently searching, if there is anyone in this big rush, a person who is eligible to write me a love letter, (sighs)nobody, as they all became my friends. I couldn’t accept them as lovers and our principal and the priest lecturers were so strict in college that I had a feeling school was better than college. Anyway I had more freedom in college too as we were a gang of girls who had no time to mix with boys but with the library books, we devoured all the romantic novels available in the library and get to know the real piece of love. Anyway, it was much more uncomplicated.
          Then one day I went to my cousin’s house for my study leave and there I met Thomas, a 24 year old guy(he is my cousin's uncle). He came to visit his sister, a very busy person. I do not know why, but I had this feeling in the heart just like congestion, difficulty in breathing and a small smile always flickering on my lips (I really tried to wipe it off, thinking of all the others who had got it, but no use, it just stuck there) and we talked and talked and talked. What rubbish we talked I don’t know. Just imagine I’m meeting him the very very first time and I just couldn’t unstuck myself from him, what craziness. I was really feeling odd and it hasn’t happened to me with any boys. Anyway, let it be.
Thomas had come to go immediately, but he stayed there a day and talked. I feel this feeling of congestion was a mutual one. I had to study for my exams, but waste of time, I just closed the book and sat opposite him and talked. He didn’t say anything about love and me too. He left and after some days I left for college, then I knew I had fallen in love with a person I just met for the first time. I might be crazy. But still I felt good. After a month I received a letter from Thomas, I was soooooooooo happy, that at last I received my first love letter at the age of 16 and expectantly I opened it and the letter started, Dear Meena (no hearts and shivers there), I hope you are fine? (that’s a natural question, he’d really like to know, whether I’m healthy) and the letter continues....I really wanted to say that,
          Well I think I’ll have to stop now because that’s not fair to occupy so much of your time. I’ll complete it tomorrow.
                    Just stay happy until tomorrow. Bye for now.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

A Gift From Heavenly Abode

          It happened when I was a wife, I have not become a mother but we had lot of financial constraints and it was with great difficulty that we survived our daily expenses as we had to rely only on farm produce. We had our parents too and there were visitors regularly. So we couldn’t do anything but spend and spend and spend. I didn’t know that we were in real financial crisis. But one day I asked Thomas (my husband) to buy some Ladoos for me. I was expecting a 10 piece packet at the minimum, so when he returned home after shopping, he with a broad smile gave me a small packet. I thought it was a surprise gift, and I was surprised for sure but the gift was ladoos. There were only three. I asked, why three? Two for you and one for me. I couldn’t control my tears. I started howling out into my pillow, as I didn’t want anybody to know about my humiliation. On that day he told me his dire situation, his debts, his commitments as the youngest son which his parents had passed on to him. I just gave both my ladoos and really felt ashamed of my selfishness. But still there were lots of time when I erupted, my anger, as I couldn’t enjoy any luxuries just because of all these debts. That too is selfishness isn’t it. Just imagine how much Thomas would have suffered? But poor thing he didn’t have anybody to share his woes and I an insensitive pig. Now I know that I was really insensitive, but then I would have killed anybody who told that to me on my face. But in fact I was really miserable. I just was the most unhappiest person.
          Days passed and one day I dreamt my father, he had passed away when I was 17. He had a soft corner for me. You know “Fathers Love Daughters More”, that policy. It was in fact very true in my case as I was the only daughter and my other sibling was my brother.     I really missed my dad a lot as he was the person who had helped me live a productive life, look at life in different perspectives, gave character to my life - to be caring, loving person. (But I think I had lost the screw of the understanding character) So when he was gone I was lost. He was really a nice person. So back to my dream, he came to me and started helping me in doing some household chores. Then he stopped and looked at me and extended his wallet and told, “Take it you would need it.” I opened it as usual and saw lots of Indian currency notes. I asked him, “But what for?” then he replied, “You would need it.” I woke up feeling so happy, that I felt like crying when I became aware that it was just a dream. Just as you think, even I too thought that this dream came as all my problems were clogged in my subconscious and the mind played the game. So I just let it pass.
          A week later a man came home and asked Thomas, “Would you do me a favour? I really need your help.” Thomas is a very soft hearted person. He really helps anybody in need even if he gets into deeper trouble. So the request was a business proposition. He had no land, to do any farming and he wanted to cultivate vegetables in our land and he would do the working part and selling part (the dealer would come directly to the field, fix the price and weigh the vegetable, pay it immediately then and there) as he had lots of contact because he was a businessman selling vegetables to other places but circumstances forced him to stop as he had lost a lot of money. And as predicted Thomas consented and they started a partnership venture, their fields started producing nicely, they started earning every week. At least I didn’t have to count the pennies. Then everything started changing and from there he got another proposition from another friend to take over his business as he was going abroad and like that the finance of my home started looking good. So it all started after seeing the dream, but is it really true, that my dad really came and gave money? Well I think I’m crazy to think so or else, let him come today in my dream once more and say that he really had come on that day. That’s fair isn’t it. Anyway, if he comes I’ll inform yuall (you all) O.K? But I hope I don’t fall down , unconscious because I’m scared of ghosts, Oh My God (OMG).
                    Just stay happy until tomorrow. Bye for now.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Death Do Us Part – Part 2

          So seeing death was a real rare gift, which we won’t be lucky to get every now and then, but I did get it one more time when I was near my aunty’s death bed. I call her Ammachi (meaning mother). She became my mother when I was 6 months old and she took care of me till I was ready to go to school and from then on she was my mother and mother to a lot of family members too. She was loved by all.
          She was the only sister of my dad. She was a very kind lady. She helped a lot of people during her hay days. She was very generous to the poor. She loved her children dearly. She had her flaws, who doesn’t, but she was a very very loving person and very lovable too. So she had lots and lots of visitors when she was in her death bed, which as usual no one was aware of it as she had lots and lots of stints and near death calls. So as usual I came to visit her in hospital. When I reached her room the corridor too was overflowing with Ammachi’s visitors. I couldn’t even get to stand near her because of the rush, but fate intervened, most of the family members left to have lunch as they hadn’t had any breakfast and previous night food too. So all were forced to take their food from the hospital canteen and they invited me too, but I declined as I wanted to just hold her hand and to say “Hi”. But she was connected to a lot of wires and tubes So I  just opted to stand beside her where her eyes could meet mine and my presence known. Some of her children were beside her holding both her hands as she had a tendency to raise the hand and rip off the tubes from the gadgets from their source. But she was not looking at anybody. Most of the relatives were calling her regularly and at that time she would look or else she was looking towards the ceiling and seeing something there because she raised both her hands and joined it as in prayer. I understood that she was seeing some spectacle we mere mortals were not aware of, but again  her family would pull off her hand apart as she had ripped the wires off. I felt very sad as I couldn’t tolerate this insensitivity, I know they all were helping her but whatever spectacle she was seeing was of great importance as she was totally engrossed in the sight and we should have let her to commune but that didn’t happen, pulling her, calling her, kissing her, God, it was real terrible and I just stood near the head rest and caressed her head. One of her sons was really covering her face as he was embracing her, so no one was able to see her properly. But after five minutes she looked up to me through his arm pit hole and again I was able to see the same spectacle which I had really forgotten, Ammachi’s pupils started dilating at that time my heart started squeezing, my breath stopped and my eyes filled with tears as she silently bid adieu and no one knew about it, just we both, a secret bonding. I felt very sad because I knew she was leaving from this world forever by presenting me with such a rare gift. I really thank my Ammachi for all her love care and this rare gift.
          And I’m really happy, both my loved ones had a peaceful death with all the family members around. And I hope they both are happy and in heaven. But for me I have a doubt, is it true that would they come to meet us in our dreams or in spirit? Well I had something to say, which I would like to share with you tomorro. Until then just be your best
                              Bye for now.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Death Do Us Part – Part 1

          Yesterday my kids missed the kiss of death by a hairline. They were saying that a tree fell just behind the autorickshaw they were travelling.  If they had come a second late then the tree would have been on that auto and ultimately on them. So it was a hairline escape.  Who is responsible for this –  the grand escape, Fate? or Destiny?
          This last 12 months I had to witness many a deaths who were very precious to me. Seeing the simplicity of life’s end, sometimes I too feel like death is on my doorstep. But what is death? Do yuall have any idea? Where do they go after death? In the bible we have heaven ( a place for the good) and hell(a place for the bad). But it is also said that there would be no relationships in the other world. And I say the prayer “I Believe” everyday, so I’ll have to believe of heaven and hell. And that is where my title comes to play, “Death Do Us Part” we won’t be meeting them again as father, grandfather or uncle or aunty but as another person standing in the queue for cinema ticket. Its really sad isn’t it - Not seeing them (relationship wise) when we are near them?
          But just imagine the different types of death. Its like a variety of sweets in different forms and shapes and containers.  Is it really necessary that we have to die? Can’t we have any other alternative to have heaven and hell here? Yes, I know there is a bigger goal in this small act and I believe in God, so there would be a cycle which we have to go through. Since I have accepted the fact that I will have to die one day, there should be some way to make our death a peaceful transition from earthly abode to heavenly abode. For me I feel that if there are all the family members to see me off to the heavenly abode how would I feel? I don’t know. Because I do not know, what happens at the last moments of a person’s life. Do we have to be peaceful or should it be like a railway station.
I’ll tell you two incidents of a dying person, where I was directly present and I saw it without being aware that the person was going to die. In both the cases there were lots of family members and well wishers. Both where very dear to me. The first person was my father-in-law, I called him Ichachan (meaning father). He was a very nice person. He loved his family very much and helped them a lot but he was very crude in his behaviour but very straight forward. I was the youngest daughter-in-law. In Indian culture its the youngest son who has to look after his parents. Since he was a farmer and businessman I was the only member who always conversed with him, joked with him, bathed him, manicured and pedicured him, read newspaper for him and just sat silently watching sunset as sunrise is a very cold business out here.
          So two days prior to his death, he started feeling very hot. Hot in the sense that he started pulling off his clothes. We stayed in a place where we don’t have a fan. We  always used blanket even in summer, that was 12 years back in Idukki. At that time we used two table fans and opened the doors and windows and I had to use a hand fan too to relieve my father of his discomfort. Hearing his malady people started coming to visit him, relatives, friends, neighbours. Two days was real hard work for me. He didn’t eat anything and I was getting frightened, I prepared whatever he liked best, he really wanted to eat it but he couldn’t and he felt very bad because he made me do it. But for me I was really concerned of his health. He wanted me to be near him, fan him, but I had other duties to fulfil as I had other members to look after.
          So when the visitors arrived, it was like he was occupied with something, when they called him he would look at them and murmured something and just lay there silently. He didn’t take any food for these two days. On the last day I was sitting in front of him as he was being forcefully fed some food by my brother-in-law and his wife sitting on his bed. Brother-in-law was holding him and his wife feeding. I was just sitting opposite him, looking at him. He looked directly at me and didn’t even take his eyes off me. I was feeling a bit uneasy seeing him stare at me without blinking at all, but I didn’t take off my eyes and a minute later I saw that his pupil (the inner small circle inside the black circle of the eye) started expanding just like the shutter of a camera. I just was shell shocked that I couldn’t move or speak watching this spectacle. It was a very slow process that no one knew it was happening just me and him when all were there, talking and whispering around.
          Now when I think about it, I feel awed by the real gift, Ichachan gave me. I have heard that lucky are those who see death. But for me I have heard stories which were really frightening. So deep down I really didn’t wish to be a part of death and I usually skip death bed visits and funerals fearing that I would be afraid for life. But whoever told Lucky Are Those Who See Death was right, because we don’t feel fear, its like giving birth to a young or its like the first rays of the sun or the slow opening of a flower. Its very very slow, it happens sooo silently that we could miss it. But the only thing is, its an unexpected event and we would just have to wait for it. And I feel that to get it we should be eligible for it.
          For me I love parents, whosoever may be, no problem, if I get a chance I do respect them, take care of them, talk to them just like we take care of our kids. I know, they have come to the life’s end, they have had their share of wrong doings but still, they are precious as I am very precious to me. I have a problem, do you know what, I would do take some liberties to make myself happy. I love sweets like Ladoos, Jeelebis, Agra Pedas oh and lots and lots of sweets. I don’t eat them regularly but if my heart feels like having it I would just buy  and eat it. So for me, if I’m precious  then they are more precious than me because they are the reason we are here, to see this world, to have all the luxuries,  so its high time we took care of them.
          They might be old but they really do have something to give before their departure and it is more valuable than any they have given us. If we are lucky to be there and near them, then I’m sure they would think of us and give some blessing. That gift lasts lifelong. That is my experience.
And about the next person, I’ll tell about it tomorrow. But until then stay tight, be happy and love your parents.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Reach Out Your Hand

                    Sickness is one of the worst fears man has had to face from time immemorial and in India we are very much sympathetic for the sick, the poor, the needy, the old, etc... The Indian beggars have this trend of becoming sick and exploit the softness of Indian housewives. But last day I met a lady, who came begging for her mother-in-law while she slept. And the request was for sarees. Well, that was innovative. I asked her what will happen when she wakes up? And you know that there sure is an answer.
          But the most funny experience came when my house owner, a very devotional and generous person gave a lady beggar a very good saree fit to wear for marriages, another cotton saree and Rs. 100 as part of the help extended to marry off her daughter. She was glad that she was able to help a poor girl to get married off. One month later, a lady beggar came to me with the same request, but I didn’t feel like giving anything. I just said, “Sorry, I don’t have anything”. She went and within seconds our house owner came running and asked, “Meena, did you give anything to that beggar?” I replied in the negative. Then she opened her wrapper of misery that she was hoodwinked by the very same woman a month back and this time she came for marrying her younger daughter. Just imagine the guts of that lady?
          One day a well dressed lady came asking for some money as offering to a church as she was going for pilgrimage. I gave her Rs. 5/- and immediately she started foretelling our future (myself and two sons) and she said that I’ll give you an information which is very important to you but you’ll have to give me something that piqued my interest, I really wanted to know what it was, so I gave her Rs.10/- She looked and asked me, only 10, can’t you give me Rs. 100/-  My thoughts really got stuck. I said, “Sorry I don’t have it.” To tell you frankly, I really didn’t have a penny. She replied, “The information I’m going to give is worth more than Rs. 1000/-. For that I replied, “Well, that’s worth a lot, but really I don’t have money, so you can leave”. Then she changed the tactic, she said, “If you can give me a saree for my daughter and pants and shirt for my grandsons, I’ll say to you this very important information. And my sympathetic and curious heart consented and I gave her a very good saree and 2 small pants  and 2 t-shirt which was good for functions. But I do not know whether you would believe me, she asked, “Don’t you have anything better than this?” Well that really got me angry I replied, “Look,  if you didn’t like it, give it back”. She really had a nerve. And as if to pacify me she passed the very expensive information. And do you want to know, what was the important information?
          “ You will construct a house within 3 years, it would be a foreign design and took refuge of Virgin Mary (Mother of Jesus Christ) to reinforce her statement. My heart broke, because I have an option to change house whenever my family felt uncomfortable with the house or the of the vastu (proper position of the house)part or the settings, etc.. and I felt like laughing too as she had duped me just like the other lady did to the house owner. Thank God she didn’t say that I’d have a house within a week or else I would have to take a lottery to pool out all the money for a foreign designed house. Its indeed a very funny incident.
          But one woman made me very sad. I think she really moulded my attitude to beggars. One day a lady came and begged for something to eat. You know hunger is one thing man can’t tolerate and we all work hard for our grumbling stomach. So I gave her food, with fish curry, a vegetable curry and pickle in a plate. She extended her tiffin box and asked me to put the food in that as she had to share with her children. I did as she told me and put some more to suffice her kids too and she thanked me profusely and went to my neighbour. Its not an odd thing. But on the way, she just threw all the food, which I had given in front of me with not a second thought or any care that I would be watching and asked my neighbour the same request “Can You Give Me Some Food?”
           In Indian culture we don’t throw food or disrespect food. It was instilled in us from a very young age and the people whom we think that they are poor, they need our help does this, then what is poverty? Who needs help? I think we need help from these persons.  I have thought that Woman is the lamp of the family so if she has to stoop so low as to come outdoors with a begging bowl, then she is in real need. But after this incident, I knew, just don’t help blindly everyone, there is a heart within us all, just hear it. It would help you give the right decision.
          I really pity the one who extend the helping hand because they are the exploited ones. But, one thing is sure, “What You Sow So Shall You Reap” I have given a help wholeheartedly, and I’m entitled to the very best because Jesus had said, "Come, enter the Kingdom. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was sick and you visited me." So I’m contented for whatever I have done. But stilllllllll? At least I saved a saree from my first beggar and the second one too, thank God.
                              Bye for now and see you tomorrow.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Rain in Summer

          Today we had the best rains after a long wait, bringing in the most awaited coolness, quenching the thirst of all living beings and non living things. The first smell of wet soil, the dripping of water from trees, the scampering of animals, birds and humans for shade were the immediate physical response I saw while staying in the safety of my portico. And my first response was - a steaming coffee in hand  on a comfortable seat where I could watch both flora and fauna of the area.
          For me the best experiences of life happened in the lap of the Western Ghats – Idukki district during rainy season. I have felt it is the best place to while away the rainy season and their coffee is the best and for me at that time, it was the most untouched place in the sense of no technology – with a battery operated radio, transportation – three buses a day, beauty – the craggy mountains, and Periyar flowing with the gurgling noise and above all very naive people in their outlook, in their dealings and in their generosity.
          So my cup of steaming hot coffee started when I used to visit my cousins in Idukki. They are mostly agrarian family (agriculture as its prime means of livelihood) and a bit of fishing too for family purpose. They would all be available in the evenings and if it rains, they sure are there. All the family members assemble in the kitchen around mother and other ladies who are busy preparing a load of food. In present standards, my whole family could use it for a week lavishly. And the talking and joking, all the young and the old near the traditional fire place they used for cooking (at that time they hadn’t any gas stove) and the amount of firewood and the smoke added to the warmth to the climate and the food were lavishly distributed like cooked tapioca or Jackfruit with fish from the Periyar or home reared chicken curry or chilly, small onion, salt paste and the Famous “steaming black coffee” without sugar. And each kid joined an elder, saving a plate and earning their warmth as it was very very cold. The old covered themselves with shawls as that is the only luxury they could afford to have when they moved around during rainy season as the temperature drops very quickly, but still the young didn’t use any of these and about me, I would be covered from head to toe with clothing or else I could become Lord Siva’s sister within seconds in that cold - blue. I don’t remember having eaten so much food in my lifetime. With all the family members together sharing from many common plates with no restrictions of any sort and “Eat As Much As You Want” was the policy, then why should I try to control my appetite? It was really the most tasty food I have ever eaten.
          But now this place has changed so drastically, the people have become more money oriented, more luxury loving and not much family gatherings and if there are gatherings, it would be in a hotel or a caterer would be there to save the day. But the climate is still there but with less cold and even during that time I try to revive the nostalgic memories of my childhood for my kids and other family members and friends whenever opportunity arrives, by doing the same cooking but with gas stove and instead of cooked tapioca and jacks, I opt for bajjis or chappatis and loads of talking and joking.
          Now I know, its not the traditional way of living but the unity of the family, the openness it created in the gathering and the sumptuous food (the main attraction), which fills both heart and mind was what mattered. Thus boldly fulfilling the saying “The best way to a man’s heart is through the stomach”. That’s not faaaaaaaaair. What about woman? As far as I know, they should be given equal opportunity in eating too, shouldn’t they? And included in the above proverb too, Right? Well I’ll be generous to men I’ll give the same opportunity to men for cooking because “All’s Fair during Rain in Summer”. Happy?
                    Bye for now and see you tomorrow.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Crawling Time

          My mother-in-law is the most conservative person I have ever spoken to. She is 90. She speaks only of the days past and she narrated one of her experiences of a boy aged 28, meeting her in a market place when she was 60. He was her friend’s son. When he saw her, he immediately recognised her and came to her and held her hand and talked to her openly in front of all the people there . She felt very odd, she was saying to me, “Just imagine what would the people think about our relationship? I know I’m old but still I’m a girl isn’t it? For me I felt funny, actually I had a real hard time to keep a straight face but for her it was a very humiliating experience.    
          Just imagine if she had openly said to my kids or the kids of this generation, it would be a cool party joke. But think about the fear she might  have had for sometime and even to speak about it too now she feels odd. But there is nothing odd if we hadn’t had the advancement of technology, the multimedia, the etc... It has really changed our outlook, our culture.
We have studied history in schools, we study lots of things in this subject about the people, their past, their way of living, etc... For each time period they created history. The history itself is divided into stone age, iron age, etc... etc... then what would this age be? nano age? or techy age? I don’t know, but one thing is sure we are not aware of the passage of time, its just flying and no achievement for me to be proud of. But in fact a galore of achievements has happened for human race.
          I feel like Rip Van Winkly (feminine of Rip Van Winkle) I don’t know whether you know the story, but I’ll say to you. Rip was a very nice man, loved by his children and by the villagers but not by his wife. She always nagged him. He liked the wilderness, he walks with his gun and his dog alone in the wild. One day as he was going through the forest, he met some dwarfs, playing ninepins and he secretly drank their ale. He felt very tired and slept there. After sometime he woke up and found that his dress were dirty and tattered. His gun rusted, his beard one foot long and he couldn’t find his dog. He came out of the forest and found that his village had completely changed and he asked about his wife and he was told that she was dead and when he stated that he was Rip Van Winkle trouble started because there was another person with the same name and he was Rip’s son. Then he came to know that he had been sleeping for 20 years. Lots had changed. This is what has happened for the 20th century, the speed with the time is going, I don’t know whether I could keep up with it.
          There was a time when laptops were called laptops but now its just lap and when I first heard it I thought it was the running circuit laps, you know the 5000m race or 10000m race, etc.. and I have felt proud of myself thinking that I’m up-to-date in tech wise and this lap business made me feel a real stone age person. Now I know, that our time is being fast forwarded to 6x speed with inventions in 32 x speed. Better have a notepad or is it i-pad? to keep tag of history.
          Time is one thing we have to keep tag on all the minute details of our day to day experience because at every juncture we are having some changes which really revolutionize history, just like in a hindi movie “Jab We Met”, the heroine misses the train and the station master says to her, “Look you are a girl you should be careful, you are like an open treasure box, a small bend in the rail causes a change in direction for miles.”
          That’s what has happened of our history, multitudes and multitudes of inventions and changes and changes of this and that. I was thinking, if ever I live to be 90 as my mother-in-law, what would I be saying? Are you kidding? 90 yeaaaaaaars.  Forget about history just allow myself to live for the time being, its as itself a “Nightmare”. I feel like holding a speeding roller coaster with a single hand and out of seat with my dress intact. Don’t laugh eh? I’m a bit conservative too in that matter O.K?
                    Bye for now and see you tomorrow.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Birthday Presenting

            Today I had the oddest gift of all I have ever received – a belated birthday gift. And the gift was simply superb, a gift which no one would be aware of. But a loving gesture. And a techy gift too - My own website.
            There are some moments as time passes doesn’t diminish the expectations and  anticipations of bringing something special, its the day we celebrate as our birthday. Though I’ve not set foot in the greying (hair) territory, I have been taking care of elderly people for some time. Their attitude, their tranquillity, their slow responsiveness, kind of set a trend in my heart too.
            I thought, this year, I would just skip my birthday and lie low, with no cake or parties or new dress or gifts. But as the days neared I wished that someone would remember my birthday, or someone would give a surprise gift. But usually as a mother of the family, I do the organising of celebrations, but what about mine? Anyway I knew for sure, my birthday would be immersed in my inactivity. So the day came, the sun rose bleary eyed (at 6 am), well, it wasn’t cloudy, wishing me a happy birthday. Then the room light too smiled at me when I switched it on, I felt like she is also wishing me a happy birthday and to my surprise, I received the first real surprise gift – A very big box of Cadbury’s Celebrations from my elder son. That moment I knew that he has grown, he has just followed my footsteps of being considerate (well no one says, so at least I should acknowledge it, shouldn’t I). It was really a special day and there it ended, I thought, but I think the day stayed till 12 night and went. But I had a sense of loss, when something special leaves us.
            Now when I think about it, since I didn’t remind anybody of my birthday, I got  no presents at all as everyone seemed to think that belated birthday presents doesn’t serve the point. But I feel that presents are acceptable regardless of the occasion. But does it have any use or I’ll put it this way, is it of any use after the wrapper is opened?  The presents usually are finished or kept as memorabilia or used for 6 months. Some dispose, some keep it according to the relationship priority. One thing is for sure, if the present has touched the heart then even if it is disposed or kept,  the memories stay to accompany us during our retirement. But when I received this gift today, a unique one, which I can use the whole year round, my thoughts flew to the gifts I presented. Was my presents worth a thought?
            I would like to say a story about a present which was given on Christmas day by a husband and wife. I’ll name them as Della and Dan. Della was a housewife, very beautiful and her asset was her beautiful long hair. She didn’t have any beautiful clips to put on her hair. Dan an accountant, very humble and simple person had only a tattered strap watch as an asset which his father had gifted him. He couldn’t afford to buy a new strap for the watch due to poverty. Christmas was nearing, they didn’t want to deviate from the tradition of exchanging Christmas gifts just because they hadn’t money. The day of Christmas arrived and both exchanged their gifts, but both opening their presents were aghast because Della presented Dan with a very expensive leather strap for his watch and Dan presented Della with a very beautiful golden clip with small white precious stones for her beautiful long hair. Della couldn’t stop her tears, Dan was shocked to see her tears and embraced her and she said, “I’m sorry, Dan, I would not be able to use your present, because I sold my hair to buy your present and Dan couldn’t contain his laughter because he too was in the same problem. He had sold his watch to get Della the clip.
            Its not the present part that got through me, but the genuineness of the gesture. The attitude is what made it special. I feel if we genuinely want to make someone happy by giving the person a gift he would cherish, then naturally, we select the right one if we just give the person a place in our heart and all the things just happen correctly. Am I right or wrong?  Well who knows, because no one responds. But anyway, I am glad I got a belated present and would remember my friend everyday, because I sit in front of it most of two hours a day. So thanks buddy for your genuine gesture. Indeed I would like to wish myself a Happy Birthday because someone just gifted me a birthday present.
“Today is a Special Day Meena. Let all you Dreams and Aspirations come True.”
Happy Birthday Meena.
Should I say Thank you? Thankyou Sooooooooooooooooooooooo much.... 
            Bye for now and see you tomorrow.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Staking Commitments

            Today I happened to read the poem “Stopping By the Woods On a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost. The poignant moment and the stillness of the atmosphere could be felt so tangibly, that I too was aroused from the jingle of the horse the poet was riding. Actually I too often do the same thing as sitting idly (not on a horse, eh) when I have loads of work to finish. Its a break moment, where just our Self is watching the stillness of the inside (might be), we are not where we are, we are miles away from reality. After this elopement of the present, we feel a bit refreshed with a bit of yearning. And again falls back to our commitment.
            Commitment is one thing, that we can’t forego. Its a mantle we have to wear from birth till death as a son/daughter, brother/sister, husband/wife/ascetic then as a father/mother/grandfather/grandmother,in profession, as a friend. Its a long list. But in real life we are not aware of this mantle, we just take it for granted. But is commitment a trivial thing? I feel its no. When Hanuman, (the ardent devotee of Lord Rama in Ramayan) committed himself to Lord Rama to bring back Sita (Rama’s wife), he accepted it with great humility and he did that insurmountable task wholeheartedly. He really took it seriously, he didn’t do it singlehandedly, requested help of his family, elders, clan and a string of commitments ensued.
            Its the same with Jesus Christ too (Bible). He too committed to save the human race from eternal death. In short Gods too have commitments and the prayers we send on a daily basis, the tears that we shed, etc..etc.. are all part and parcel of commitment. But how does it work? I have thought that it is with my sole capability, that we are fulfilling each and every commitment, but don’t you think, that I’m too boastful on that factor? I too feel the same. I would like to say a story about a demon king, who never broke his promises and fulfilled all his duties. He was a very good man, but he was proud of his achievement. It is believed that he once ruled the state of Kerala. I do not know, whether its a fact or a fiction. But anyway I’ll continue my story. His name was Mahabali. Usually in India, demons are synonym to evil, with this king as exception. One day a Brahmin boy named Vamana (an avatar of Lord Vishnu) came to Mahabli and asked for three foot of land. The king laughed and said,” Hey Brahmin, I have acres and acres of land. My kingdom is vast and my subjects are happy with my rule. You can take more than what you need from any part of the kingdom. But the Brahmin boy requested for only three foot of land. So his wish was granted. The Brahmin boy immediately started growing to become a big giant. He encompassed the whole universe in two steps and he didn’t have a place to put his third step. So the king removed his crown and knelt before the Lord and requested him to place his foot on his head. This story has two morals, one “Think Before You Leap/Commit” yourself and the second is “Pride Goes Before A Fall”.
            And just imagine if something like that happens to us, the humiliation and the hurt. Anyway, I’d rather skip the thinking part, whether I should commit or not. Do you know, why? I’m much more heart oriented than head oriented. I get a genuine feeling, whether I should commit myself and its the satisfaction part, that I like the most. Its a gift from above, which really rejuvenates our existence isn’t it? The only policy I follow, after fulfilling the commitment is “Forego the Thankyou Part”. Its not worth the strain undertaken. Its done wholeheartedly and that is genuine, its a group effort, we cannot do it singlehandedly. So we are not entitled for the thankyou, for a group service rendered. But we can include in our bio-date of life as commitments fulfilled.
              So fulfilling a commitment is in a way helps to brighten our existence and  helps to bond a relationship, which doesn’t break easily, “A Unity Above All Worldly Entanglements”.
            Bye for now and see you tomorrow.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Just Kidding

                As I was watching the movie “The Sound Of Music”, there is a scene where, ‘The Captain’, the hero introduces his children to the governess, ‘Maria’, the heroine. She was expecting the normal way of introduction, but to the contrary, the captain summons  his children with a  whistle  and the ensuing clamour and the fright that Maria gets , is so hilarious that for me it just stuck into my soul. Seeing the whistling part felt odd. But those who have had to rear kids, with or without mother would know the difficulty of bringing up kids, would find nothing odd in it.
                Seeing others children, we feel they are sooooooooooooo angelic and I was so happy, when I too had one. But as predicted they too were soooooooooooooooo angelic children until 4, from then till date I feel and like I have been transplanted in a hornets’ nest. And if you are a mother, then don’t bother to even think about maintaining the social code of conduct at home with kids. I really wanted to take care of children, give them all my love and care and happiness and etc.. and etc.. Now I feel like a she Amitabh  Bacchan. If he can fight with a leg and a hand I can do it all together and my anger, God I don’t know, how my mother and all the mothers of generations before managed. At least Capt. Von Trapp (Sound of Music) could summon his children with a whistle, mine won’t even respond to a trumpet, I feel. And I’m not planning to try it. Better ask me, why? Why humiliate my own self by making them disobedient. So I usually do ask them what I’m sure they’ll do. At least for now, they are obedient.
                I’d like to say a story about a man who had elephantiasis (big leg caused due to mosquito bites). He married and his mother said, ‘Son, control your anger and never use your leg to harm your wife’. So when he got angry with his wife he would raise his big leg. Seeing this mighty leg, the wife used to cower and obeys him immediately. But one day, he couldn’t control his anger, he kicked his wife and the wife felt like being kicked with a soft sponge. She then understood that there was nothing happening in the elephant leg and from then on, the son failed to bring his wife under control. So there are times I do the same, show the controlling weapon, a stare, a growl, anything, in that, all the meaning should be included.
                I remember making a resolution, that I wanted to control my kids with love and do you want to know what was the result? It was very sweeeeeet. They smothered me with more love with lots of laughter and simply pranking around and just playing and playing and playing. So now I understood the real meaning of the old proverb, “Spare the rod and spoil the child”. During my lifetime I have had my share of experiences with the rod and now I know that why I am sooooooooo nice or else I would have been in jail, for two lifers.
                Thank God, that He gave me the wisdom to follow the simple rule of “One eye is more than enough for rearing kids”. These kids are smarter than us when they are together, It happened to me once, when they had a fight between themselves and one of them came with a complaint to me. I with my sense of justice and equality, I asked each what the problem was and how it started, but when the time for my decision came the complainant just said, ‘Forget it Mom, I just wanted you to give a spanking to my brother, now its finished. Leave it’. Then I knew, just let the storm take its toll, the rest would calm in their own good time. That’s why the old say, “Let the children give and take their share of fight, only then they will learn how to survive in this competitive world”. They are wise aren’t they? Then who am I to change? The answer is I’m a mother of two, helping myself keep up to stand erect in the midst of the tornado.           
                Bye for now and see you tomorrow.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Risky Business

            I was of the thought that risks were taken only by doctors, mountaineers, pilots and the zero risk takers were the house wives. But when I became a wife, a mother, a home maker I do not know a day, where I had to forego a risk. Actually to wed itself is a risk, isn’t it? If I had got the boon to see my whole life story of after marriage, like on a television screen when I see my would be groom, I think I would rather become a hermit or a recluse, than to go through the hardships of marital bliss and motherhood. I have a feeling that you too (especially mothers) would be of the same opinion.
                In Indian culture, the husband/fathers are more of the outdoor type, the macho man and the world rotator and the role of wife/mothers are to get to sponge the sweat of toil and use the gifts of toil wisely. This fruits of toil is the risk factor, you know, rotating the earth is not an easy thing and just imagine, after this hard work, if he is not treated properly, what would happen? Easy, I’ll say, he’ll turn the house upside down. Isn’t it? Well and the spouse has to stay cool, even upside down.
                My husband is a person, who doesn’t spend on his personal luxury. And his one drawback is he won’t ask others any help and doesn’t allow me to ask too. His usual mode of conveyance to his workplace is by bus, but for us we have the freedom to use much fancier mode of transportation. One day I asked my husband to bring some oranges from our land. I really wanted to eat some oranges, it just became an obsession, like the craving of the she-crocodile for the heart of the monkey who ate juicy apples. But my husband totally forgot about it and he came empty handed, just imagine the shock I had and the anger that words just stuck in my throat due to tears. But luckily I didn’t speak a word, treated him as usual. He has a habit of talking his days business while having his tea and to my utter horror I came to know, that he had not gone to his land but instead to meet a friend in hospital and returned directly home. By the grace of God, I hadn’t complained anything and to tell you frankly, he was also expecting an explosion. But luckily, I was stopped from talking. You know, its a small act, but it had an immense power in strengthening the bond of our relationship. He felt that I’m a good wife and didn’t nag at him, but now you too know the truth.I have felt that “Faith is the biggest risk of all”.
                I would like to tell a story about a Wife Who Was Full Of Faith. One day there lived a husband named Mark and a wife named Peggy. Peggy was a simple woman, a house wife and who had full faith in Mark. But on the contrary Mark was not faithful to his wife, he had an affair with another woman named Lana, very beautiful and intelligent colleague of his. Mark treated Peggy very badly but treated Lana royally, bought her all things, returned home late, in short he had to sustain two households monthly. Peggy didn’t know about this. She took care of her husband humbly and worked at home like a slave. She had full faith in her husband. She didn’t complain about his late comings or anything. One day, one of Mark’s friends informed her about his wrong doing. Peggy didn’t question about it in the evening, but continued to behave as usual. One day, Mark became so sick that he became delirious and was hospitalized. The wife didn’t leave his side and after one week he returned home. All his colleagues and Lana arrived to meet him at home. The wife received and treated them socially. But Lana just arrived and  sat there speaking to her new colleague who had joined recently, a very good looking, smart fellow. Seeing this, Mark couldn’t digest Lana’s rejection. The delirium was a turning point, the Supreme intervention in both Mark’s and Peggy’s life. Mark literally returned to Peggy, as a very loving husband, returning home at 6. Now they are very happy, living happily. Just imagine the change without a word of complaint. Its incredible isn’t it?
                And as for my oranges, I had to rely on the fruit vendor, a very nice and kind man, who was very generous in giving me very juicy and colourful oranges. Don’t take it in any other sense, OK? And from my experience, one thing I decided, never ask my husband to buy or bring something after work or from work place.  I would rather take the risk of exposing myself to the vendors than brew a third world war in my kitchen. Isn’t it a risky business I’m trying to take on a daily basis? Well, its cool isn’t it. Now I feel I have conquered the Mt. Everest. And each time I bow to the power of our Almighty.
                With all these worldly experience I decided to have my own motto in the kitchen, PATIENCE IS THE BEST TOOL FOR SMOOTH LIFE. You can also borrow it from me, for free. Am I too generous?
                Bye for now and see you tomorrow.

Friday, March 18, 2011


          I hadn’t thought talking would be so tiring for the listener. I felt that when we went to visit friends or relatives, its a compulsory thing that we had to talk, but if the visitor stays for the night, then what the protocol should be, its a bit confusing isn’t it? I do not know, for the past one week, I had this trend of overnight visiting relatives, big, small, young and old and luckily all in singles.
          Anyway my family members were all present to socialise with them, and as a mother I could socialise them with sumptuous food, which I love to do and escape the talking part. And I was struck by the topics, each and everyone covered. Usually old and very far away relatives had loads and loads to ask to update their relative bio-data of all they know and it actually tilted into the gossipy part which kind of interesting to the younger ones too. But what about the kids who come alone for holidays and is of opposite gender of my kids, they tend to seek my presence and if she is a very talkative child and non-confident personality? Well for me I felt I was jammed in a bee hive. Either I couldn’t understand or she was really frightened of me. Anyway, this experience sent me back to my school days, when I had only relatives to rely on for my holidays, as both my parents were out of station. At that time, most of the families I visited were living in a joint family system, where you could find hordes of family members, grand parents, uncles, aunties, their children, which comes to approximately 25 to 30 members. So it wasn’t much of a strain to talk to anyone. The question everyone asked me was, “Hey Meena, when did you arrive?” and I had to answer only that. I just could loose in this maze of family entanglements. And the area to play was vast and usually, there were no restrictions or constraints and we just enjoyed our holidays. But today I didn’t know, how to make a 12 year old comfortable and I really felt sad. Its not because we are not happy to have her, but I was lost for words and she had lots of things to say to close the gap of uncomfortability.
          When I heard her speak, I thought about the dilemma a priest had to face when he was caught by some evil people. They put him in a room with no windows. It was very difficult for the evil ones to know, whether the priest was there or not as he always sat there quietly and prayed, silently. So the evil leader asked him to say ‘Yes’, whenever they called him. And the priest did as they asked him. It continued for some days. The priest was a wizard, with his magic power, he made all the things in his room to answer yes one at a time and escaped from his prison. One by one the things started answering and the priest reached near the church and only 150 meters more left and at that time all the things finished replying and nothing was left to speak. Hearing no reply from the room, the evil people opened the doorand saw, that the priest had escaped. Luckily they were not able to catch him.
          Seeing his escape I thought, he might have run away from the evil people. But with my experience now I feel that the priest ran away not because of the ill treatment but because of that talking part. Just imagine, to talk without any rest. I really bow in front of the politicians, teachers, lawyers and all the professions who have to mingle with a lot of people. I know they have a topic to talk about, but still, how would they be returning home? I don’t dare think. I would rather immerse myself in a hot water bath and just press my mouth shut.
          Do you know, what I did to my young visitor, I gave her a variety of foods, so that she was forced to munch around and didn’t have to speak and if she had, she spoke about food as long as I had to reply Hmmm, thus making us both happy and comfortable in the safe topic starting from salt and ending in salt in the haven of my kitchen. Isn’t it cool? I’m just happy, that I made her happy, do you know why? Well before leaving she told me, aunty, this is the first time I had to eat such a variety of food in such a short time and I’m really glad I came, you are a real good cooker. Hi.. Hi..
          See you tomorrow.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Rolling Stone

          When in school I had to write an essay about Rolling Stone Catches No Moss topic a lot. At that time, I had nothing to write about or couldn’t understand why these teachers get so attached to this subject. But years passed and I went through to  become a teacher, a social worker, an administrator, a housewife, a mother and above all a very good friend to many and with lots of worldly knowledge and bookish knowledge and communicative knowledge. But then too I felt that people usually depicted nomads as the rolling stones. But for me I had an experience yesterday, which in life everyone might have encountered but not aware of it. Usually in families, the mother, the lady with the lamp, the light of the house, does all the work unconditionally. I was not aware of her sacrifices she goes through until I got that post. It was an insurmountable mountain which I trek every day and roll down from it a lot. So to my surprise experience.
          My mom presented me with two sets of dresses, no special occasion, just like that. She does it when her heart feels like it. She was usually like that, very spontaneous, at that time when she gave me a present, just a smile and thankyou and sometimes a hug too was the spontaneous response from me, but the hardwork, the love, the thought my mother put on it was lost until I occupied the same position and started giving it to my loved ones. Well, I was much better than my kids, I feel, they can’t hug me might be they are too embarrassed because they are boys. But the genuineness of their thankfulness, the happiness that generate which would naturally reflect in the eyes were missing. Then I knew, what I had denied my mother.  So when she called me and told that she was not satisfied with her gift, I was really surprised that still she continues in her commitment in loving her kids irrespective of the outcome or the cold response and this thought, this attitude is what has struck me as a unique feature of a mother. In the bible too, Jesus says that “Your mother may forget you, but I’ll not forget you”. This May part is what got nicked into my personality. She is indeed a strong person, the unconditionality is what we should cherish, appreciate and follow. Here is where the rolling stone comes into play.
          Actually for me there are two philosophies of rolling stones, i.e. two ideas, which I acquired from real life experience, small small experiences, which get nicked into me and just got sculpted there. All these nicks naturally opens the inner heart, where God would like to show a life in a different perspective. To tell you frankly, I haven’t had any near death experiences and I don’t wish to have it too. I don’t think I could cope with it that easily. In truth I’m scared. So in order to avoid it I ensure to feel the pulse of the moment and act accordingly.
          So back to the rolling stone, I feel the rock (stone) is my ego, my personality, my self and the moss  is about the vices or bad things or habits or attitudes which I was born with or which I had formed in the long run of life. Now when the rock starts rolling and that rolling part is life, we get our good and bad experiences, through actions and interactions, and knowledge too. Some rocks gets stuck in ridges or roots of trees or gets blocked with boulders, but some rocks do come down, these rocks are the one who accepts the rolling and takes the experiences in his stride and improves himself which ultimately comes to a stand still, the ultimate goal, and the end part of rolling rock is gifted to become a smooth surfaced pebble or a stone – A perfect Human Being, which we cherish it with care and exhibit with pride and consign it a very important place. With all the virtues of a perfect person, where nothing can hinder his progress to unite his Self to the Supreme God.
          Now my mother has an important role in moulding me. If God hadn’t shown her virtues, I’d have lost her forever. But since My God opened up the vista of wisdom, I feel I should feel happy and to share it with you, so that you should not miss the opportunity to really see the love of your loved ones, their small small act of kindness, which we miss in our daily grind of routine. And I thank my life director to have given a very good mother to love, just for the sake of loving. Isn’t it Special?
          So with heartfelt gratitude. See you tomorrow.


Wednesday, March 16, 2011


            Today morning, before the light of dawn, the birds chirping, it was as silent as a ghost house and to wake up around 4:30 is a nightmare which I have been experiencing for sometime, do you know why? to overcome my sleep hurdle. You might want to know, what happened to my sleep. Well I can be called the sister of Kumbhakarn. 
            If you're an Indian you might know, who Kumbhakarn is, but I'll explain who he is. He is been depicted in the Indian Epic - Ramayan. He is the brother of Ravan, the demon king of Lanka. The specialty of Kumbhakarn is that he sleeps for 6 months continuously and eats for the rest of the year. If I hadn't had a rumbling stomach I'd have gone for the 12 month period one. In a cool climate its soooooo angelic to be sleeping covered cozily in a blanket. When morning comes, a clash of the blanket warmth with the morning frost can be felt so strongly that I just move into my blanket cocoon to avoid my first glimpse of my barren ceiling. This laziness really got to me. I’m always tired, sleepy and started to become bulky, then I knew I had crossed the boundary or in India we call Lakshman Rekha (the line drawn by Lakshmana for Sita (Lord Rama’s wife) in the front yard, if she crosses the line, danger befalls her, but she crossed the line and she fell into danger). Since I crossed the Rekha I knew I’m nose deep in danger. So I took the first step to break the shackles of Laziness, break my daily routine and risk taking the path of ancient sages (According to the Indian culture, one should rise with the sun, take bath and do yoga, prayer or meditation and start your daily chores.)except for the morning bath part. I really fared well. Maybe I might try the bath part after sometime.If this idea had been told one month before, I would have just gone insensible.

            But now I know the perks of getting up early which I would never forfeit for any other thing in the world, the peace and tranquility of the surrounding. The birds asleep , the churches, the temples and the mosques too immersed in silence, awaiting for their morning bell to chime. It’s a half an hour reprieve, where I go through the ritual of finding myself from the previous day’s maze of noise, early morning laziness, relationships, both big and small, thoughts and thoughts and thoughts. Some changes happen, I know not what, but one thing is sure I’m a changed person, nothing gets to my nerves, a prioritization table has formed in my system, a tranquility has been embedded in me, all these and many more, has helped me complete my work without much hassle and hullabaloo. Now I’m alive , you know the alive part of Nescafe advertisement? or you can say Lifebuoy advertisement.

            As I wasn’t an early riser, I had loads of work backlogs. I didn’t have time for anything. I’m always busy and looking very fatigued. I couldn’t reach my target, but now, after I decided to cut my sleep short, anyway take the advice of old time sages. I first did it for 6:30 am. Now I don’t think you’d believe it, I wake up at 4:30am. Now I hear the first bird call. The first rays of the sun, the fresh scent of breeze. Its so refreshing that I get the light spring of youthfulness, which I would not want to miss for anything in this world. The energy of the first born sunrays is revitalizing and it transcends to all my aspects of my life. I see a smile from my family. They have their food in time, the dress ironed, and things all done and up-to-date. Now they have a much more better opinion of me than I would have had, two weeks back.
            Can I tell you a secret? I was not planning to wake up at the very first bell and I’m not that type too. I thought I’ll give my body a breathing space. So according to me, I’ll give the first notice at 4.30am and set the alarm for it, snoozed it (a waiting period) for 15 minutes, then one more 15 minutes, then I could drag myself out of my cocoon by 5 or 5:30 or maximum 6am not more than that for sure. But today I woke up on the first bell of the alarm. That is indeed a prize winning, back slapping, sweet sharing act, isn’t it. Me too I feel the same. Since there is no one to give me a prize or a backslap, I just got myself some sweets to celebrate this momentous occasion.
Feed for thought :- if I had chosen I could have gone back to sleep, but God has given me a powerful will, (which I think everybody has it) and a heart to prove and a mind to make it see through the end. I thought I’ll utilize it, well I’ll have to at some point of time. Do you know what my motivating factor is, If man can conquer the Himalayas, if he can step on the moon, then why shouldn’t I start at least for the basics. Its not to prove it to anybody. Its to prove to myself that I’m invincible. TO show myself that If I Set It Then I’ll Get it. So I took two steps today, wake up early and doing the writing. So how can I deny myself the luxury of having been gifted the best day of my life? So I’m entitled for one more sweet, right?

            Hope you too had a very good day. See you tomorrow.