Inheritance

"Where are you going?" mother asked.

"Don't keep nagging him!" father intervened. "Where are you going?" he asked. The tone was different, the purpose different too.

Promptly, the boy came closer and said, "I need some money, babuji."

The man smiled indulgently. "How much?" He dug into the pocket and handed the boy two 1000 rupee notes. "Go," he ruffled his boy's hair.

"Tch, baba! Don't spoil the style," the 16-year-old boy complained.

He laughed indulgently. All that he was earning was for the boy.

"Can I take the car, baba? Just this once?"

His mother tried to say no, but father overrode her objections. "He drives well," he pointed out.

"Is that wise?" mother asked, only to be dismissed peremptorily. Shaking her head in dismay, she walked in to her room.

He followed her and said reasonably, "I am earning for him only, after all."

"But 2000 at this age? And the car?"

"When I was a kid, my father would count every pie he gave and count it again when I returned the change. I don't want to penny pinch. Are we going to take this money to the next world? It is all for this boy only."

Mother rolled her eyes. "You have to teach him the value of money too," she pointed out.

He pooh-poohed it. "Don't worry. He will. When he spends, he will understand the value automatically."

It was getting on to be midnight and the mother became uneasy. "Isn't it late? He has been gone five hours now."

"They must be at a theatre! Stop nagging," he said angrily. "There," he said as his cell rang. "That's him."

It was an unknown number. He became numb. It was a stranger. His son had met with an accident. Drunken driving.

His son wasn't taking all the money to the next world either.

Two Drops, One for Each

It is strange
The eyes are wet
Not a cross word
Has passed the lips, yet

Just the thought
Of those little ones
Struggling to learn
To face the world

Making friends
Making enemies
Challenging work
That test their abilities

Will they be able
To cope with them all?
I wonder if I have
Prepared them well.

When to intervene
When to step back
When to be firm
When to be slack

Who gives training
To mothers to deal
With the day-to-day
Upbringing ordeals

To be the god
They are made out to be
Hiding their feet of clay
Under the wings

That keep their little ones
Up in the air
Till they sprout
The wings to fly.

Anubavangal: Urugum Manam

Anubavangal: Urugum Manam: "அலை எழும்பி ஓய்வது போல் நிலைக்கும் அந்த மௌனம் குழந்தைகள் கிளம்பி போன பின்னே திரும்பும் வேளையில் கலக்கும் நெஞ்சம் எல்லாம் சரிதானே? சிரித்த..."

The Flowers

A gardenful of flowers
Uniformly pink
With hues of gold
Embellishing from within
Petals open
The pollen exposed
Watching the sun
Cross above

A hand plucks one
Smells the fragrance
Taking in deeply
As memories galore
Of lovely sunshine
And beautiful moonlight
Of childhood days
And the happy adolescence

Another plucked
By an anxious lover
To see if he loves me
Or loves me not, dear
Plucking each petal
Hoping for the odd one
To tell her he does
Do not fear

A few more go
To make a bouquet
Creating a riot
Of beautiful colours
To be given to someone
Loved or feared
To be kept near
The heart's centre

The ones who remain
Sway in the breeze
Still safe, untouched
Withering naturally
Why not me
They think wonderingly
I am made the same way
As all those who went away

Their lives seem emblazened
In a path of glory
To be handpicked
To be nurtured carefully
And yet they died
As naturally
Forgotten once their purpose
Was served fully

Wishing they had
Remained free
Of this attention
Forced as it had been
First there was joy
Happiness and glee
And then came the time
They were forgotten likely

Rotting in bouquets
Torn of petals
Dumped and crushed
In the hands that loved
Their purpose served
They were needed no more
These beautiful flowers
That were cherished once before.

Anubavangal: EMI Thollai

Anubavangal: EMI Thollai - sirukathai: "நிர்மலா மௌனமாக அவள் கணவன் பார்த்திபன் பேசுவதை கேட்டாள். அவன் சொல்வதிலும் நியாயமிருந்தது. இருவருக்கும் கல்யாணமாகி இரு வருடங்கள் தான் ஆகி இருந..."

Taller, Stronger, Sharper

This is like the genetically modified brinjal. We debate about it no end, but don't worry that we are playing with our children's hormones. If he or she is taller, stronger, sharper, better, a top ranker - no matter what his genetic history is - then that must be for the best.

And so we give them whatever it takes to compete in the rat race.

But I heard that a "sure" winner that makes children stronger, also modifies girls' hormones, causing gynec problems later in life - early onset of puberty being one of them.

And then I came across someone yesterday who told me that she had hyperandrogen something problem where her androgen production had shot up. She is a mother today, and this was before she got married. The cause? Depending on a complete planned diet product that made one - well, taller sharper stronger. This is what her endocrinologist suspected. Just an aside here, men and women both have male and female hormones, but only one of them is the dominant one depending on your gender.

If the ad says studies show such children are taller, do studies show the other changes that happen? I suspected, and this lady's story confirmed to me, that if you touch the growth hormones, something else is going to be affected too...

And, by the way, the discussion got underway because she told me her son loves soy foods. Now, I was a great fan of soyabean myself, and the nutrinuggets. Again, I have no scientific proof, only a question. If soya is so good for women and oestrogen, then, what happens to the men? And even to the women, for that matter.

Just a thought - maybe it is time to check out if food natural to the local soil and a balanced diet are good enough to cope with the normal demands of life.

From Darkness to Light

There was scarcity
Of food, water, comforts
Roads were narrow
So were the minds
The rich grabbed
The poor envied
Eyes were on others
Counting the wonders
God had blest them with
Leaving them in tatters.

Fifty years since then
We are happy, amen
We travel, we have fun
We eat well
Everything at fingertips
Just ring the bell
And yet our eyes
Hunger for more
Counting the joys
That come to others

The roads are wider
But packed to the core
So is our mind
Cluttered with chores
With thoughts that muck up
And confusion galore
Through luxury and comfort
We are but beggars
Craving, yearning
Demanding for more

Grabbing always
Pushing others
Showing off
Our empty riches
Yet not happy
Pondering always
If the other man isn't happy
A teeny weeny bit more
And losing sleep
To catch up sooner.

Science and research
Have given us progress
In material things
Increasing our comfort
Who will find out
Where that button is
To lifelong contentment
That rests within us
From darkness to light we travelled
But left our minds behind in dark ages.