Sizzling and Hissing

Yet another shaft
Finds its mark
In the heart's centre
All hopes shatter
As the arrow
Pierces the armour

Only a tiny pain
No blood?
I think
Turning inward
Looking for answers
In wonder

A mail, a post
Timely reminders?
That in God's altar
There is a purpose
Hidden and obscure
But future secure

The wheel of time
Taking its course
Natural, unhurried
Marching to its beat
Driving us on roads unknown
Using us to achieve its goals.

Not ours,
It has no use
In the scheme of life
It serves no purpose
Driven by time
And not the mind

Mind control
Is all pure drivel
An illusion
That we fear
To break and see
The truth within

And yet we strive
To prove otherwise
Can we pause
The flow of time?
Change the course
This nature of mine?

Can I stop
The flow of words
Sizzling and hissing
Like oil on skillet?
Waiting to pour out
On paper white?

Write then
Till the fount dries
For maybe a purpose
Unheard cries
Like a glowworm
Meant to die.

The purpose, the purpose!
You well ask
But is this outpour
Really a task?
Just the joy of creation
Isn't that why this inspiration?

Take heart
Keep faith
There is a reason
Why you fail
Only to learn that
There is another way.

Anubavangal: Arakkargalin Rajyam

Anubavangal: Arakkargalin Rajyam: "ஒரு இலட்சியத்திற்காகத்தான் நாங்கள் பாடு படுகிறோம் என்று அவர்கள் நம்புகிறார்கள். ஆனால் லட்சியம் இருந்தால் நல்ல வழியை தானே காட்டும். காட்டுமிர..."

The Parking Ticket

She was late to pick up her children. She rushed out with just her her wallet and her car keys.

On reaching the school, she found the road clogged with vehicles and people. She circled the school and parked in the first spot that was available.

She was fuming - at herself and the state of the roads. Her meeting at "Clean India" office had stretched beyond the scheduled time, and she had left behind the team discussing an article on how to avoid paying the traffic policemen the bribe.

"Madam," one boy had said softly. "One option is to go pay in the court. But when someone is rushing to work, late for an appointment or an equally valid reason..."

She had shaken her head vehemently. "That's no reason why! The process can be automated and the details noted down. The license number is there, and the registration plate. So the person can be let off then, but can pay later. If he does not within a day or two, the vehicle can be confiscated."

The idea found some supporters while others demurred on the cost of administration. She had had to leave then.

She walked into the school and saw her tiny tots near the gate, sulking. "All our friends left," they complained.

"Sorry babies," she hugged them and walked them to the car. The big lock in the front wheel infuriated her. She saw the traffic policeman talking to another owner whose car had been locked too. She walked up, her children in tow. She managed to swallow her anger and said, "My car..."

The man turned. "One minute."

He finished with the previous owner. As the two walked towards her car, she complained, "There is no No Parking sign here."

"There madam," he showed her one a few feet ahead, "and there," he pointed one behind.

She blushed. "But where is the parking space?"

He shrugged. "With minimum two cars per family, where can we find so much parking space?"

She stood uncertainly.

"License madam?" he asked politely.

She peeped into her car and remembered that it was in her handbag. And her handbag was in the office. One of her tiny tots started crying. She looked at the man, unable to meet his eyes. "It is in my bag at work."

He turned away. "I need it to punch it for receipt," he said, pointing to an POS billing device. She stood silently. "Ok, pay 150," he said.

She looked at him shocked and was about to protest. But the man was already on to the next defaulter, handing him the receipt. She reluctantly pulled out the money. "I can show the license in the police station later," she tried bargaining, her mind protesting against paying the man and encouraging bribery.

He shook his head. She knew he had no way to trust her. She handed it and wondered how "clean" she was.

Anubavangal: Maadu pola manithan - kavithai

Anubavangal: Maadu pola manithan - kavithai: "கழுத்தை நெருக்கியது வேலை அது இல்லை என்றால் மட்டும்? சொல்லுவோமா, நல்ல வேளை? ஓடி ஆடி திண்டாடி இங்கும் அங்கும் வேலையை தேடி அலைந்து திரிந்து மன்..."

Toothbrush in the Bathroom

This is in public interest. Since I have noticed this in many houses, I am making a post of this (and escaping thinking too deep).

Whether true or false, this is one thing that I am not debating. Since most of our washbasins are placed alongside toilets, please make sure your toothbrushes are kept closed within a shelf or in a case. Within six feet of the commode, everything is vulnerable to infection by the germs around it, and I believe even the flush splashes enough muck in microcosmic proportions to pollute whatever lies around it.

Another old world wisdom? Keep toilets separate from bath/wash areas? Yeah, but till architects and designers do it, or we start demanding it, let's make these small adjustments.

Anubavangal: Ippadiyum Silar

Anubavangal: Ippadiyum Silar: "என்னடா இன்னும் ஒரு முறைக்கூட நான் வேலைக்காரியைப்பற்றி எழுதவில்லை என்று நினைத்தீர்கள் என்றால், கவலை வேண்டாம். இதோ, எழுதப்போகிறேன். ஆனால் அவள்..."

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.