The novel, 'Kadal Pura'. Author Sandilyan. Scene: The beautiful, golden-hued woman takes bath in the sea and finds a secluded corner to dry herself. The upper garment slips. She turns to find the hero handing her the cloth, his face turned away from her in modesty.
Thursday, March 30, 2017
Saturday, March 25, 2017
Never No Time
Honey, she called,
Seeking but a moment
Not now, he replied,
Pointing to his work
Why did you call, mother?
Chafed her teenage daughter
Classes, parties, friends,
There is a lot I must attend
Will be out all day, ma
Son said as he stepped out
Don't wait up for me, he said
And yet she did just that
She was wife, ma, mother
Around this revolved her world
It seemed shrunk in size
And she, the only one to reside
Her eyes crossed the horizon
Worlds beyond they sought
New challenges they met
Many battles they fought
Though her world expanded
Beyond the lines that limit
Encircling it within her arms
She carried it where she went
Honey, husband called
Mother, daughter cried
Ma, son thought
Her new responsibilities beckoned
Not now, dear,
No time for you
Seeking but a moment
Not now, he replied,
Pointing to his work
Why did you call, mother?
Chafed her teenage daughter
Classes, parties, friends,
There is a lot I must attend
Will be out all day, ma
Son said as he stepped out
Don't wait up for me, he said
And yet she did just that
She was wife, ma, mother
Around this revolved her world
It seemed shrunk in size
And she, the only one to reside
Her eyes crossed the horizon
Worlds beyond they sought
New challenges they met
Many battles they fought
Though her world expanded
Beyond the lines that limit
Encircling it within her arms
She carried it where she went
Honey, husband called
Mother, daughter cried
Ma, son thought
Her new responsibilities beckoned
Not now, dear,
No time for you
Never for a moment
Did she even think to say.
Thursday, March 23, 2017
The Old Couple
Retirement. After having worked for 40 odd years. Ajay Thakur looked forward to this phase. He looked forward to the time he could spend on his garden, crossword puzzle, visit to the nearby temples, puja at home... And help his wife Sarala in the kitchen. Poor woman, she has seen no holiday or taken a break from the kitchen all these years, he thought fondly.
The shifting from Mumbai to Jaipur took some time, but he was glad to be back in his home town. His relatives were in and around. That will keep Sarala occupied as she loved to visit her sisters and niece and the hoards of relatives that she had been kept away from because of his job. And she also wanted to be in a different city from her son. It hurt her that Jeet had moved to a flat of his own after his marriage to Namita. Nothing Ajay could say soothed her.
Their married daughter Prabha too had moved to the US with her family - her husband and two adorable twins.
What was there to hold her in Mumbai? She had jumped at the opportunity to return to the city she loved. Now they could spend their sunset years visiting relatives, enjoying leisure and travelling to nearby pilgrim centres. Maybe even Tirupathi.
"Baba, Namita is due in January," Jeet called one evening, sending the old couple in a frenzy of joy.
Prabha too called with news of her own. "Maa, I have got a promotion in my job!"
What more could the parents want? Just these blessings to keep the smile on their faces.
"Maa, Namita needs bed rest according to the doctor. Some complication. Her parents are in the US visiting their son. Do you think...?"
"Of course!" Sarala said without batting an eyelid. She made arrangements for Ajay and left for Mumbai. Three months later, when Namita's parents arrived for the delivery, she returned to Jaipur, promising to be back whenever her son needed her.
"Maa, since my promotion, I have been commuting two hours one way. It is killing me and the twins are falling sick often... Can you please come?"
It took the couple a few days to get the right papers. But a month later, they left for the US, to be with the daughter and her family. What bliss, the twins, all over them, loving them... doting on them.
But when they were at school and after Sarala had finished all the housework, she was bored. Ajay was bored. There was precious little they could do. As winter set in, they felt hemmed in and were glad to return home, Jaipur was cold too, but there was the warmth of the people around.
And then, Namita needed to get back to work, her parents needed to return to the US to their son, and Sarala and Ajay went back to Mumbai. Ajay felt on edge, always, as if on borrowed time, waiting to get back to do all that he wanted to do.
His sister fell sick and Ajay and Sarala returned to take care of her. A widow, Chanda lived alone in Jaipur. Sarala was fond of her sister-in-law and the moment she could, she made her way back. Chanda's son Bharat came home for a few days. He was grateful to his uncle and aunt for taking care of his mother. "I have to get back to Delhi, mamu..." he said one day, hesitantly. "I am worried about leaving ma alone at home..."
"Why should she be alone here? Delhi has better medical facilities. Take her there and get her good treatment," Ajay advised his nephew.
"Right now she seems fine... Once she is better, she wants to return to her house... My wife has not been keeping well...My children have exams. I will take her during the vacation, mama..." he said politely but firmly.
Ajay's temper flared. "She is not a holiday project! She is your mother!" But as the harsh words had no effect beyond making Bharat hang his head in shame, Ajay declared, "She will live with us. She is not going anywhere!"
"How can you take this on your head, baba!" Prabha asked indignantly. "It is Bharat's responsibility, not yours!"
"Baba, this is unnecessary headache for you," sympathised Jeet. "At your age... If something happens to you?"
"She is my sister," he silenced them.
"But that means you can't travel freely!" the children echoed each other with concern.
"Don't worry. Whenever you need, your mother will be there."
Placated, they stopped pestering him about it.
That restricted his travel severely, but a price he was willing to pay as his wife traveled to the US and Mumbai alone as and when the children needed them for the next three years. When Chanda passed away, Prabha, Jeet and Bharat said, "Poor woman. She suffered so much. I am glad god ended her suffering."
Ajay and Sarala shed tears, thinking of the many years Chanda could have lived had she not died of a broken heart. Knowing that age and illness had nothing to do with the desire to live.
Time seemed to fly even as the couple flew around for their children. He was 80 now. His wife, 75. He walked erect, ready to run when his children called, if his relatives needed him. His wife, his shadow sometimes, leading him at other times, complained rarely though her aging bones protested.
Age is only in the mind - it was fashionable to say. As he thanked god for a good health and even better fortitude, he thought of the many times when he was tormented watching the malady his children suffered from - the need to run with the hares and hunt with the wolves, never a moment of peace as they tried to grow higher and higher at work, feeling weighed down by personal responsibilities, glad that their parents could take their place in the family at least for the children. Though happy to be of use to them, he wished they could have mental peace even if that meant being away from them.
He reached the door of the house and saw the neglected front yard. He crumpled the list he had made of pilgrim centres. Till their bodies remained, they would be there for their children. What greater joy could they hope for?
The shifting from Mumbai to Jaipur took some time, but he was glad to be back in his home town. His relatives were in and around. That will keep Sarala occupied as she loved to visit her sisters and niece and the hoards of relatives that she had been kept away from because of his job. And she also wanted to be in a different city from her son. It hurt her that Jeet had moved to a flat of his own after his marriage to Namita. Nothing Ajay could say soothed her.
Their married daughter Prabha too had moved to the US with her family - her husband and two adorable twins.
What was there to hold her in Mumbai? She had jumped at the opportunity to return to the city she loved. Now they could spend their sunset years visiting relatives, enjoying leisure and travelling to nearby pilgrim centres. Maybe even Tirupathi.
"Baba, Namita is due in January," Jeet called one evening, sending the old couple in a frenzy of joy.
Prabha too called with news of her own. "Maa, I have got a promotion in my job!"
What more could the parents want? Just these blessings to keep the smile on their faces.
"Maa, Namita needs bed rest according to the doctor. Some complication. Her parents are in the US visiting their son. Do you think...?"
"Of course!" Sarala said without batting an eyelid. She made arrangements for Ajay and left for Mumbai. Three months later, when Namita's parents arrived for the delivery, she returned to Jaipur, promising to be back whenever her son needed her.
"Maa, since my promotion, I have been commuting two hours one way. It is killing me and the twins are falling sick often... Can you please come?"
It took the couple a few days to get the right papers. But a month later, they left for the US, to be with the daughter and her family. What bliss, the twins, all over them, loving them... doting on them.
But when they were at school and after Sarala had finished all the housework, she was bored. Ajay was bored. There was precious little they could do. As winter set in, they felt hemmed in and were glad to return home, Jaipur was cold too, but there was the warmth of the people around.
And then, Namita needed to get back to work, her parents needed to return to the US to their son, and Sarala and Ajay went back to Mumbai. Ajay felt on edge, always, as if on borrowed time, waiting to get back to do all that he wanted to do.
His sister fell sick and Ajay and Sarala returned to take care of her. A widow, Chanda lived alone in Jaipur. Sarala was fond of her sister-in-law and the moment she could, she made her way back. Chanda's son Bharat came home for a few days. He was grateful to his uncle and aunt for taking care of his mother. "I have to get back to Delhi, mamu..." he said one day, hesitantly. "I am worried about leaving ma alone at home..."
"Why should she be alone here? Delhi has better medical facilities. Take her there and get her good treatment," Ajay advised his nephew.
"Right now she seems fine... Once she is better, she wants to return to her house... My wife has not been keeping well...My children have exams. I will take her during the vacation, mama..." he said politely but firmly.
Ajay's temper flared. "She is not a holiday project! She is your mother!" But as the harsh words had no effect beyond making Bharat hang his head in shame, Ajay declared, "She will live with us. She is not going anywhere!"
"How can you take this on your head, baba!" Prabha asked indignantly. "It is Bharat's responsibility, not yours!"
"Baba, this is unnecessary headache for you," sympathised Jeet. "At your age... If something happens to you?"
"She is my sister," he silenced them.
"But that means you can't travel freely!" the children echoed each other with concern.
"Don't worry. Whenever you need, your mother will be there."
Placated, they stopped pestering him about it.
That restricted his travel severely, but a price he was willing to pay as his wife traveled to the US and Mumbai alone as and when the children needed them for the next three years. When Chanda passed away, Prabha, Jeet and Bharat said, "Poor woman. She suffered so much. I am glad god ended her suffering."
Ajay and Sarala shed tears, thinking of the many years Chanda could have lived had she not died of a broken heart. Knowing that age and illness had nothing to do with the desire to live.
Time seemed to fly even as the couple flew around for their children. He was 80 now. His wife, 75. He walked erect, ready to run when his children called, if his relatives needed him. His wife, his shadow sometimes, leading him at other times, complained rarely though her aging bones protested.
Age is only in the mind - it was fashionable to say. As he thanked god for a good health and even better fortitude, he thought of the many times when he was tormented watching the malady his children suffered from - the need to run with the hares and hunt with the wolves, never a moment of peace as they tried to grow higher and higher at work, feeling weighed down by personal responsibilities, glad that their parents could take their place in the family at least for the children. Though happy to be of use to them, he wished they could have mental peace even if that meant being away from them.
He reached the door of the house and saw the neglected front yard. He crumpled the list he had made of pilgrim centres. Till their bodies remained, they would be there for their children. What greater joy could they hope for?
Friday, March 17, 2017
Hidden Layers in Idols
Though I decided I will blog about it, it slipped my mind this morning. But a speech I saw by Sri Narendra Modi on feeling pride in Indian technology and how idols and statues code some of them symbolically, reminded me of this.
Monday, March 13, 2017
The Beginning is the End
Cosmos heaved. Every cell vibrated. And pulsated with a desire for a life of its own. To swim on its own, to move as it wished, where it willed, not to be trapped, not to be part of a whole but become a whole.
And it got its wish.
Fish... It swam, in a school, but still alone... Where it wanted, seeing, feeling, eating, on its own, sensing...
Sensing danger everywhere. Fear. Fear. Fear. Of not finding food. For it's life.
If only to live without this fear. To be strong. As the jaws closed on it, it's last wish was to be the predator and not the hunted.
A lion. Swimming without fear. Killing with impunity. Power. The king of the jungle. The world at its mercy. And yet, powerless against the tusks that bored, the horns that stabbed, age that withered.
To be stronger still. To be invincible. To conquer uncertainties.
The master hunter.
The master strategist.
The master destroyer.
The invincible.
Swimming. Flying. Climbing. Digging. Destroying everything on its path.
A big wave, and still it trembled. A strong gust of wind, and still it fell on its knees. A deafening thunder, and still it pleaded, "Please, help me, save me."
It wanted to be god - the creator, the preserver, the destroyer.
It did all that. And yet, it was created, it had to be preserved, it could be destroyed.
Not on its own. It could never become that which it wanted.
It cried, "Please let me become you." It begged.
Had it been dreaming all this while? Did it really happen?
The Cosmos heaved. It settled deeply and sighed in contentment.
And it got its wish.
Fish... It swam, in a school, but still alone... Where it wanted, seeing, feeling, eating, on its own, sensing...
Sensing danger everywhere. Fear. Fear. Fear. Of not finding food. For it's life.
If only to live without this fear. To be strong. As the jaws closed on it, it's last wish was to be the predator and not the hunted.
A lion. Swimming without fear. Killing with impunity. Power. The king of the jungle. The world at its mercy. And yet, powerless against the tusks that bored, the horns that stabbed, age that withered.
To be stronger still. To be invincible. To conquer uncertainties.
The master hunter.
The master strategist.
The master destroyer.
The invincible.
Swimming. Flying. Climbing. Digging. Destroying everything on its path.
A big wave, and still it trembled. A strong gust of wind, and still it fell on its knees. A deafening thunder, and still it pleaded, "Please, help me, save me."
It wanted to be god - the creator, the preserver, the destroyer.
It did all that. And yet, it was created, it had to be preserved, it could be destroyed.
Not on its own. It could never become that which it wanted.
It cried, "Please let me become you." It begged.
Had it been dreaming all this while? Did it really happen?
The Cosmos heaved. It settled deeply and sighed in contentment.
Friday, March 10, 2017
Well-Wellness
 |
| Men at work - de-silting the well, taking out the sludge, servicing our source of water |
 |
| It's not a pleasant job. I didn't realise someone was inside the well, to fill the bucket with the sludge. Unsung heroes |
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
The Invitation
Sangeetha stood behind the mike and matched the scale given by the orchestra. The music director waved his hand and the orchestra began. Getting her cue, Sangeetha closed her eyes and began singing, her concentration only on the tune, the beat and the pitch.
When the song ended, there was total silence - she was used to it. She opened her eyes, and the applause from the director and the other assistants began. She smiled a half smile, inclined her head and stepped out of the studio.
When the song ended, there was total silence - she was used to it. She opened her eyes, and the applause from the director and the other assistants began. She smiled a half smile, inclined her head and stepped out of the studio.
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