Awaiting Rains

Dry, barren
Sucked up fully
The earth looked up
Hopefully at the sky

Passing clouds
With nothing much now
Light and fluffy
White and hazy

They drifted leisurely
With no cares
Fleeting through
The skies carelessly

They gathered slowly
In great masses, steadily
Expectant and oppressive
The air became charged

The earth went still
Waiting for the lash
The thunder and the light
To change its plight

Mother of all storms
With much light and noise
Filling up its wellsprings
Giving life, rejuvenating it

All life waited
For the rain to abate
And then slowly drank in
From the waters aplenty

Green trees, lush and beautiful
Buds blooming into bright flowers
The ground wet and fertile
The birds singing a thousand songs

Human eyes look up to thank
The merciful skies for their bounty
And hope to see their fortunes change
To one of comfort and aplenty

Back to My Fav Topic

A chance interview with a neighbour - on what constituted entertainment. And I became nostalgic. Friends, relatives, leisure, games, sports.

There were the gossips, and the dignified ones; there were those who mingled, and those who didn't; there were those who were active, and those poking their nose where it didn't belong.

But there was a community, a sense of belonging, and the time to interact. There were no cars, commuting took longer, and houses were smaller, barely furnished.

Today, we have many a times more than one car. Our house is beautifully decorated, and rooms assigned for each purpose. But, when guests come, only so many can be accommodated. And only for so long. They are in a rush, we are in a rush. Do we pack more? Is it necessary? Where does it take us? To loneliness and longing for company? And to bitterness that we don't have anyone to share our life with, our joys and sorrows with?

We are modern, yes. But at what cost?

More on this: Giving Time; The Super Eye; Shrinking World;  Leisurely Journey

Meeravin Mudal Prayatnam: An Attempt - Oru Muyarchi

Meeravin Mudal Prayatnam: An Attempt - Oru Muyarchi: "தமிழில் எழுதிப்பாரேன் என்று என்னை ஒருவர் கேட்டார். இன்னொருவர் நான் தமிழில் எழுதப்போகிரெநா என்று கேட்டார். ஏன் எழுதிபார்க்கக்கூடாது என்று த..."

Parenting Debate

Will this ever end? Especially when there are three generations under the same roof!

You need to be strict, the grandparents agree, and then undo the strictness by indulging.

Our system of mugging tables was best, says grandfather, unable to relate to the Montessori system. What system is this that doesn't help child keep numbers at finger tips? How can they complain about the child that she doesn't know? - he asks incensed. Try telling him that they are not complaining about her lack of knowledge but lack of application.

Are they eating well, they ask with concern about the children. And then promptly buy all the junk food they love.

Go go, get ready/go to bed, they send the children, and then sit back listening to their tall tales.

They may be at variance on some points, but who cannot help smiling when the child runs to the grandparent to share the tales, enjoy the stories they tell and bite into the goodies they bring? There is much more noise at any point of the day, there is much more life.

Benign Parenting

Great Expectations

He: To wake up to a gentle breeze; a Carnatic music CD playing melodiously in the background; wife up and about; towel wrapped around her hair, cooking busily while chanting a sloka; a sweet smile on seeing him, a nod to his good morning, and a steaming cup of coffee or tea ready in hand; the aroma of something delicious wafting from the kitchen.

She: To sleep undisturbed; to wake up lazily; to go about making breakfast leisurely - better still, to have him make it; a nice Hindi film song on lips; children wake up on their own, smiling; he wakes up even later and eats whatever is given - unless he makes what he wants; and does not complain that all the aroma he gets is from the neighbour's kitchen.

The great Indian dream. Sigh!

Back to School

Summer vacations over - and at the end of it, it does seem to have flown by quickly.

Saw my son growing up - from being dependent on my daughter, his elder sister, for playing with friends, he has learnt to make his own friends and deal with his situations.

Cricket bat and ball - that is all he can think of all the time.

Even the fights between my daughter and son were about cricket - it was a no ball, it is an LBW, you are clean bold, it is a wide ball... Amazed how much they pick up quickly!

For daughter too, not having her younger brother around her has been unsettling though a relief in some ways. She is defining herself - I get irritated quickly, I don't like doing certain things, I love certain other things...

Mini adults is how I see them - sigh, except when they have to do their chores...

The Petal

The wind blew it across
Entangling it with my dress
Mingling it with my heart
Embalming my being
With its fragrance faint

I caught it between my fingers
Let it go, my mind warned
It brings trouble, you will be harmed
But the fragrance was enticing
The petal soft against the skin

I caressed it,
Pressed it against my cheek
Relishing the feeling
When no one looked
A secret joy just for me

I safely tucked it in
Into a velvet pouch
Casing it in a casket
With designs intricate
And hid it deep and safe

Letting others peep
Only when it seemed
Safe for the petal
And the foolish heart
Within the foolish me

Who cherished the petal
As something very precious
More than gold and silver
Even platinum these days
And all the diamonds in the world

With time it lay forgotten
Buried under debris
Of everyday happenings
Thrown on it carelessly
Drying and crushing it

But sometimes it protests
Lets out a whiff
Rustles under the weight
Catching my attention
Reminding me of its presence

Should I peep inside?
Or let it rest in peace
Giving it a decent burial
As it maybe needs?
As should past be

Or take it out
Stroke it
Stoke the fire
Bring it back to life
And burn everything around?

Oh beautiful petal
It was nice when you lasted
But your time is over
And you are best forgotten
Buried deep inside

For newer things grow
As time flows
And every fresh day
Brings a new flower
From where blows a petal.