A Tiny Drop

The drop fell on the railing
Seemingly from nowhere
Standing distinct
Wanting to be noticed
Wobbling, doing a merry dance
Sliding down
To write its stance.
The sound of it dropping
A whispered word
To be heard.
From nowhere
Came pouring the rain
Taking the drop
On a forceful fall.
Mixing it
With million other drops.
Merging with the rest
The drop played out its destiny.
Unseen, unheard, unread
Just a tiny drop.

Did you like: The Super Eye, The Dilemma, The Worshipper of Goddess, Tearing Through the Blue

The Metro

Chennai is on par with other metros today, we say proudly. We have malls, we have cars, we have flyovers and we have traffic jams.

A 10 minute distance took me around 40 minutes yesterday on my two wheeler at 11 in the morning on the arterial road - The Mount Road.

Was I mad to be out on the bike - not only did I ask myself this, but many of my friends. Pressed between cars of all sizes, not an inch of the road visible, there was heat radiating from all sides. Not one apology of a tree to provide shade against the merciless sun that glared at all the foolish citizens of Chennai that were out at that hour.

But I was on a bike, and other travellers on car. I could not help thinking of so many old people - inlcuding my father - who depend on the shank's mare regardless of the time of the day. The sun is no more merciful to them than us, the trees as absent. And they as used to the comforts as us... And yet I have seen them do it - two old men from my building can be seen out in the sun on bank work and other sundry things.

I wonder if development has to mean cutting down of trees. If a road is broadened, can't a provision be made for some shade somewhere? Is the lust for the metal so much that anything green is an anathema?

For those of you who read my blog The Silence of the Geese - there is some good news. Of the 172, only 28 are to be cut - a HC order was passed to this effect. I am hoping that this will be followed and not forgotten.

In the early days, kings had a rule - if they cut 1 tree, they had to plant 5 or something in its place. This ancient law should be made mandatory today.

Rebirth: From Babe's Mouths

"Amma, I have to ask you one thing. Actually, two things" my daughter started in her characteristic style. "First, I want to know when life ends."

"You asked me that earlier," I reminded her.

"Yes, but what I want to know is, we are born as baby, then become an akka, then mother, then grandmother; then again we are born, then dadadada, then dadada; then again... So I want to know when this will end." She sounded like she was already tired of being born again and again.

So I escaped with the tale of dinosaurs, how they became extinct, but others came in their place.

"Ok, I want to know what I was in the previous birth. Does anyone know? Like if I was Chinese or something else." And I always wondered why the reiki I did on myself when she was in my womb and the Ojas for pregnant women that I listened to had not had a positive impact!

If other parents get such queries, I replied, "That's because if you remembered that you were Chinese, you will want to go back to your Chinese mother and not love me."

That satisfied her for the time being - relief.

Is she just 7?
The first  time she asked me the first question: Life and Death

Do Gooder

The Inseparable Friends, that's what Priya and Preetha were called.

"You are so patient and understanding," Jaya told Priya.

"Why do you say that?" Priya asked.

"Preetha can be so rude sometimes!"

Priya's smile did not waver. "What happened?"

"Oh nothing! I asked her to lend me some money, and she quoted Hamlet to me."

Priya laughed. "Yes, she has been cheated several times, so she doesn't like to lend. How much do you want?"

"Oh, I found someone to lend me, but I wondered how such a generous person like you can be her friend?"

"She believes people easily... So some have taken her for a ride. But she is not a bad sort," Priya said again and went back to her work.

***

"I am sorry," Preetha said as she saw Jaya walking up. "I thought about it and decided I would lend you..."

"No, it's okay," Jaya said, her face showing it wasn't.

"Priya told me you were upset..."

Jaya raised an eyebrow. "She told me that you had been cheated before because you were such a fool!"

Preetha frowned. "I have been cheated yes, because I trusted people."

Jaya laughed sweetly. "You still do, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" Preetha asked.

"I mean, you think Priya is a friend, and she thinks you can be easily lead, that you are rude. You know, she told me that I should have gone to her instead. More likely to get the money."

"Meaning?"

"Oh I don't know. You are her friend... you should know."

Preetha's lips formed a thin line.

That evening, the two friends became sworn enemies.

If only they hadn't let what Jaya thought of them get in the way of how they felt for each other. They hadn't asked each other, "Did you say this?" but instead known, "You couldn't have said this."

Giving Time

She read through the mail with a smile. How right, she thought. A dead man leaves behind his gold locket to the man who, as a boy, gave his time to this man who was a widower and a loner.

The man is touched. Since entering adulthood, he spends all this time working, with no time for his family.

He decides to take off and spend time with his wife and son.

She had tears in her eyes. She looked at her mother sitting next to her, telling her something. She nodded absently as she clicked the "Newer" mail and laughed at a joke forward.

Her mother got up, upset that she was not paying her any attention. "Tell me when you are free. I have to tell you something."

She nodded, now reading a comment from a friend on Facebook. "Yes ma," she said irritably. "I am busy right now."

Her mother grumbled. "It is the same story everyday."

Have you read: Where is the Time?; Shrinking World

The Enticing Evil

There is something about villains that make them more interesting than the straight faced, honest to god heroes.

While watching Ten Commandments recently - and for the first time, I shamefully confess - Rameses, thanks to the actor no doubt, comes out in flying colours. He is confident, fearless and ready to stand by what he believes. His play of emotions keeps you riveted to the plot. And I felt sorry when he is finally defeated - is he to be blamed if from childhood he is denied what he thinks is rightfully his? (Now, don't tell me that his attitude to the Jews was shameful. It was, is and will be - enslaving anyone... More on that later.)

Even in the serials that I do not watch but occasionally catch glimpses of, it is the villains who seem to have all the fun. They dress up richly - not to my taste, but at least to theirs hopefully. The only hero or the heroine who gets my sympathy are those who decide to match wit for wit, believe in eye for an eye. Those who show the other cheek somehow seem to deserve just that - a tight slap.

In real life? Is anyone so bad or good? Can you hate anyone completely? Sadly, even the ones you hate seem to have sympathisers who are not like them at all. And you grudgingly have to agree that there must be something likeable about them.

Well, one man's cake is another man's poison.

Perspective

Rama called Bhanu. "Hi, how was the movie yesterday?"

"The movie was good," drawled Bhanu, sounding unhappy.

"Then why are you not sounding happy?"

There was a pause. "This is the last time I am going with Sheryl anywhere! She is so embarrassing! She laughs loudly, she is an attention seeker! She is loud! I can't stand it!"

Rama smiled to herself. "Okay," she said soothingly. "She is excitable, I know."

"Excitable! That's a mild word. She is hysterical!"

Rama controlled her laugh and after murmuring soothingly, cut the call.

Her phone rang almost immediately. "What's wrong with Bhanu?" Sheryl barked in the phone. "She is bossy all the time!"

Uh-oh, thought Rama. "What happened?" she asked, as if she couldn't guess.

"Don't laugh, don't stare, don't do this, don't do this... She should have become a teacher!"

Rama said soothingly, "She is soft-spoken and doesn't like attention."

"What do you mean? That I am seeking attention?" Sheryl asked threateningly.

"No, no! But you are gregarious and she is not..."

"She is a neurotic, that's what she is," declared Sheryl. "And this is the last time I am going out with her anywhere."

The line went blank.

Rama sighed in relief. Good she wasn't with them, trying to calm the two extremes. But she wondered how she was going to balance being friends with both.