Sunday 28 December 2014

A poem dedicated to all my friends on the net



2014 has been for me

the key

to reverse history.

Introduced to  the net,facebook

made me look

from my narrow

dead ends

to horizons beyond...

Friends all over the earth

revolving around the same axis

of humanity

Loads of sharing, beauty and fun

News of selfishness and guns

Sharing  of sorrow

Giving hope for tomorrow

living each day to the full.




Photos : free digital photos.net

Sunday 14 December 2014

My ultimate dream

                            We live each step of our lives following our dreams...


                                                                                               free digital photos.net

                                                 
                                                       
                                                     
                                                           A small plot of land      
                                                       A tree
                                                With branches wide and shady
                                                 And leaves that wave out to me.
                                              A hut

                                           With a computer
                                           A table and some chairs
                                        A cup of tea
                                      And provision of three meals a day
                                  Shelves of choice books
                              A cat and perhaps a dog;
                             For the joy
                           These'd bring.                                                             free digital photos.net
                     I hope, I dream and toil a lifetime.
                   
                      







                     

Tuesday 9 December 2014

The Other Side

                                                                           free digital photos.net

I stride at a smart pace
Forward, about turn and back
regular, observant
On important duty:
supervising an exam.

'Click, click!' my ears detect a sound
of iron on stone
in the land adjacent.
My eyes steal a glance:
 workers bending
cloths tied on their heads
to cover their hair.

I quicken my stride
I'm paid for this
A post of envy:
I never thought I'd get.
I check the covers
if all's right
The faces, that nothing's amiss

The smell of fresh wet mud
fills my nostrils
Enters my lungs
A quick side glance reveals
Mynahs walking, heads bobbing
Searching for  insects, worms.
My spirit leaps
through the bars, over the wires
And joins them in the fields;


My eyes cover the grim classroom
In formals I go back home
Over concrete and cement
I climb the stairs
And stare at concrete
till my eyes drop.

Saturday 29 November 2014

A modern middle class wedding in Karaikudi - .

       


Aanandhi stood on a low platform-like stool and almost threw a maroon and white skillfully woven garland of rose petals around Arun's neck like a hoopla, hooking him for life.
           Arun stood on the floor with a similar garland in his hands for his bride.This inequality in flooring had nothing to do with differences in height. Rather it was the traditional respect given to welcome the new princess into the family. Perhaps you're imagining  a wedding hall with dazzling lights and jarring music challenging the greetings of friends and relatives. No, no, these weddings are typically held at the ancestral houses of  these people which housed the wedding of their parents and their grandparents before them.

As the groom's mother is a good friend of mine, we landed at their house the previous day and observed the decorations - red and white  balloons in an arch shape at the entrance. Rows of streamers lined the sides. The majestic wooden pillars were draped in pure white satin cloth with maroon   and gold linings on the top. A temporary stage background in cloth caught our attention with the words,'Arun weds Aanandhi' written on it.
 After a brief get-together, we went to a neighbouring house where dinner was served. This gave us a chance to look around.
          The quiet  village : I say quiet because there wasn't the sound of traffic or any other movement. In fact the residents have mostly left their houses in the charge of some caretakers and have moved out in search of newer trades. Only weddings and other family functions bring the families back home.
 Karaikudi and the villages around it bear evidence of the spirit of adventure, voyage and trade of their ancestors. One house had a pair of horses with their riders built in at their entrance to welcome us. Another palace had statues of the favourite Shiva - Parvati  couple with their son Muruga to bless those who entered. Below them were a pair of little flying angels with open garlands in their hands. A mixture of Greek and Indian mythology!
          The house we had dinner in had a sweet little garden in it with a mixture of fruit trees and flower plants. What once must have been something like a porch and a wayside rest place for the passers-by was now covered and protected by about five-six grill doors. The house inside reminded me of a neat little railway station - long and almost unending.
The Chettinad food is  known to be typically different and mouthwatering. So we were experimenting with each item and trying to guess their ingredients. The pulp of brinjal with coriander leaves, carrot and pumpkin in a curry... the list goes on...with cold chocolate on seaweed as dessert.

       While returning we gaped at some more sculptors and wondered at the different interests of these adventurers of old. Back home some elders were threading some gold figures onto a yellow thread: in fact two rows of thread. A miniature  golden house at the centre with two golden  hands on either side. This was to be the main symbol of their wedding. After the fun of exchanging garlands some 3-5 times, the bridegroom would gift his bride with this necklace, tying  three knots around her neck in the process.

      My friend showed us the gifts she had been saving for her daughter - in - law to be for the past few years: beautiful sets of clothes, handbags, watches, silver vessels, scent bottles and even some handkerchiefs. After some reminisces and giggles about how we used to go shopping together and return in a horse cart even when other neighbours had a laugh at us, she showed us our room in the house and we prepared to rest. Or so we thought. At four o'clock in the morning we were woken by the sound of running water and were surprised to find the young groom's female colleagues at his MNC happily lining up for bath. They had come all the way from Bangalore city to this village in Karaikudi. In the night they were  in casual Jeans and T-shirt, eagerly watching the specialties of this village and its culture. In the  morning they were stunning in churidars and with accessories. The boys were unbeatable in white and white dhoties.

After a sumptious breakfast of idlies, uttappam, pongal,vadai and kesari we moved on to the beautiful carved temple where the bride's people came to receive and claim the bridegroom with gifts of a watch, a ring and a fresh set of clothes. Wearing these and a colourful turban he set out for  the bride's house in an open car instead of the traditional horse for the ensuing ceremony.

 That was how my friend passed on her son to the care of his young bride.


Sunday 2 November 2014

A school flower show - 2


What d'ye think of Mr. Sunflower?
His aim's to be the tallest tower
Ever attractive,ever bright,
 He lives only for sunlight.


                                        Photos : free digital photos.net


Photos : free digital photos.net


Now to dear old Chrysanthemums
Admired by our dads and moms
Elders, teen and little ones too
May I even include you?




                                                                                                                                                                                           Photos : free digital photos.net

Here we come to Marigold
Colourful, cheerful and bold
She was loved since of yore
Now you must her hybrids
                                      behold.




Time for another courtesy
As lady Petunia, with rosy cheeks
And dimple deep
Nods with grace and dignity.




Photos : free digital photos.net



Thursday 23 October 2014

Down Memory's Lane - A school flower show

When my school announced that it was going to conduct a flower show, I found myself penning the following lines.  I realized  then that someday I might continue writing.


                                                                        all free downloads.com

Come, see our flower show
Experience the joy that overflows
See the flowers sweet and bright
They'll fill you with delight.

Come out, lady blue bells
Gloriously throw back your sleepy selves
Greet this morn with your inauguration
Indeed, you've won our appreciation!

 Oh, you lily of the valleys
Reminder of love amidst purities                                                                                                                           You symbolize everything divine
How solemn your looks, how sublime.


Roses, roses everywhere
Denying their call is hard to bear
Roses with their heads held high
Are to all hearts ever nigh.

My dahlia, my beauty
How well you do your duty!
You smile like a naughty kid
And for praises you do bid.


                            all free downloads.com 



Carnations! A beautiful creation
Always with a message of celebration!
Are you burdened with worries?
Let some carnations keep you merry.
                              to be cont'd                                                                                                                      free digital photos.com

Sunday 12 October 2014

HARI THE MOUSE : a story for little ones

Hari the mouse had just found a nice big vadai and was carrying it to his hole when a little girl saw him and ran after him crying, "Daddy, daddy look. That mouse ran off with a vadai!"

 "It's ok, Jane, leave it. We can't use it anyway. We can only tell mom to be more careful next time." And with that they left. But Hari had slipped into his hole by then and covered his ears with his front paws, shaking all over.                                                                                                                                                                                         Free digital photos.net
"They've gone. Go and get the vadai," Gouri, his sister ordered.
"Get it yourself if you're interested," Hari said curling up in his spot.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

"Ok,fine. Then I needn't share with you the cheese I've got either." Gouri said, turning the other side, her nose in the air.                                                                                                                                                            
"Cheese?" Hari said involuntarily, knowing that he was defeated. So he peeped from the entrance  and when no one was nearby, dragged the vadai inside.

 Hari was an easy target for any mouse's jokes. He was neither physically nor mentally smart. A scar tore across his right eye from a shameful defeat he had with a bully mouse. So he couldn't see that well with his right eye either. Defeat after defeat made him  more and more shy of crowds and  public challenges.

Then one day he found a toy thrown by a human child. It was made of a big matchbox, a rubber band and two plastic wheels. It looked like a carriage without a horse. Hari tied a string to it and dragged it behind him. Now and then he would put his collections into it and bring it home. He brought things home only when no one saw him on the way.

Scuurr .. ...His heart skipped a beat one day when he heard somebody scratch from the opposite side of a mango he was biting into. He hid behind a leaf and was relieved when  he saw a  tiny new mouse struggling to pull a plastic cover with water in it from under a stone. He lifted the stone awhile to let her pull the cover but she had pulled with so much force that she fell with it on her back.
"I'm sorry, I should have held the cover with one hand.Then you wouldn't have lost your balance. That's why people always say I'm stupid." Hari apologised, giving her a hand.

"You're not stupid. They should be terribly rude to say such things about you," the little one replied, limping as she got up. "You couldn't  possibly have lifted the stone with one hand. It was so huge," she said opening her arms wide to show how big the stone was.

"You're kind and sweet and... so different," Hari replied, tying the mouth of the cover with a string so that the water wouldn't spill out. He lifted the cover and put it in his carriage, since her limp was still bad. "I'll bring it home - just show me the way," he said and started pulling  the carriage.

 That's how Hari got a true friend at last. Reena insisted that she was born with the limp, clearing his conscience further. So  now and then she would be seen in his carriage as a fine navigator  who made up for his vision problem. And no other mouse ever challenged or insulted him from then on because Reena stuck to him like glue and nobody wanted to come in the way of her sharp tongue.



Thursday 25 September 2014

MOM's done it:A song for today's heroes-2




ISRO's done the task
"Is that so ?" someone asks
'Tis so' MOM nods
 My Mom or yours?
Oh, Oh.. Mars Orbiter Mission,
India's maiden attempt -
To reach Mars's orbit
Has succeeded and won.

Our scientists have thought -
up plans and now they ought
To sit back and see
What the results could be
Of the brains behind the act
Of sending 'Mangalyaan' to gather facts.

Three hundred days old
The baby of our scientists bold
Fruit of their plans and dreams:
Putting up with extremes.
India's finally making headlines
Is her poverty being sidelined?

No, no MOM's built with a feasible budget
So we can hardly object.
An anti - corruption drive
Is all India needs to thrive.

   

Saturday 13 September 2014

A song for today's heroes

                                                           
                                                                                                               free digital photos.net


"Loot, plunder, kill" the order is given
'The power is ours
No need to see
Who deserves what
We rule,
We decide from above
Which country deserves what'.
But forty three soldiers
With a conscience
Refuse to bow
To the gods of this world.


Not for us
The blood of the helpless
Not for us
Injustice to other humans
Not for us
The homes of the homeless
Forty three soldiers
With a conscience
Rise above tradition
And refuse to bow
To the gods of this world.


What price will it be
I do not know
Will they be branded, 'unpatriotic,
Disobedient, rebellious?'
No need for me to search the books
For past heroes and imagine.
I will sing your song
For as long as I can,
As long as I remember
Forty three heroes
Who refused to bow
To the gods of this world.
                                                                                                                free digital photos.net

Friday 29 August 2014

A sacrifice that paid



                                                                 free digital photos.net

We were returning from work as usual in the evening.

Shruthi stopped by a roadside vendor and bought a pair of  small fresh looking  banana plants.To celebrate Ganesh Chaturthi the next day. The sight and smell of it brought back different memories.
Of people hurrying home, bags full of goodies for wife and children.Coconuts, plantains, jaggery and pulses that would turn out into mouth watering dishes. Idols of Ganesha (Vinayakar to some and Pillayar to others) that would be pampered happily for a day and then immersed into some water body. Sometimes dead fish would be found floating the next day if the paint used on the idol was not eco-friendly but not everybody bothered about that.

But the lingering memory of this festival is of the year I was preparing for a
competitive exam. In my middle age, when the days of young expectation were over  and had given way to a sort of resignation of my fate.
Somehow, friends had inspired me and made me ambitious all over again.
 Foregoing ordinary get-togethers and fun. I had to travel quite a distance to attend a coaching class.
A Ganesh Chaturthi came in between and I could see people in their hustle and bustle preparing to celebrate.Dressed in bright silks and flowers, lining up before temples.Earlier, children in a holiday mood went swimming and diving.                                                               free digital photos.net

 To my then focussed mind, I almost felt jealous of them. Both adults and children. It looked as if only I wasn't free to enjoy.                                                                                                                      
Then came the exams and after writing them I knew I'd get through. It sure changed my life and  now as I look back I know that the struggle was worth it after all.  

Sunday 24 August 2014

I conceived a thought

I conceived a thought
It grew inside me
I took extra nourishment
From books and thoughts
Helped it develop
And waited.

Then came the moment
For birth.
I relished
Its beauty
Washed it,
Taught it skills                                                                                                                                                                                                                     free digital photos.net

And sent it into the world
Watching from behind
To see how it fared.
When it was fairly grown
I conceived another
And sent it out too.

I still shadow
My babes (books) to see
If they swim well
Through the tides and against
Hoping the weaker siblings
Find their legs
And a way to survive


Like all mothers
Yearning,
Ever learning.

Saturday 16 August 2014

My sweetheart in another's arms


                                                                        free digital photos.net

She gave me hope, confidence,
A will to live, not take offence
At senseless jibes.
The beauty of lives she revealed to me
And my own she held up for all to see.

She showed me trust
And owned me first
Till I shone
And stood on my own.

She showered on me
Love and charity
And made me hope
I'd have strength to cope
Till eternity.

She made up well
For the hell
I'd endured till then
And left open                                                                                                        free digital photos.net

The door to happiness.

Then fate got us separated
My joy evaporated
I busied myself
To bridge the gulf
Over empty space.

With only memories
To still my agonies


Finally one day
I found a way
To meet my beloved.


Her love was the same
So was the place's fame
But I tasted  tears
From my heart so pierced.

I tried to reason why:
I knew each step, each stone
But the post of my first appointment
Was now held by another
My table and chair occupied.
It felt as if
My sweetheart was in another's arms.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            free digital photos.net

Sunday 10 August 2014

Waiting outside open doors



Recently I saw a video clipping on facebook. A man was running down the corridor and finally reached the toilet area. But to his  utter loss both the toilet doors were shut. He raps on each door frantically and has a really tough time controlling himself. He hops and jumps on alternate legs. He raps on the doors again. After his prolonged struggle two men enter talking from behind him, go past him, push open the simply shut toilet doors and enter.

It was like a joke, watching the desperate man. But aren't we  caught in  similar situations with graver consequences? Shutting the doors of our mind : Struggling, fighting with ourselves instead of analyzing the situation around us. How many times we do not even care to attempt all the questions in an exam to our full capacity, fearing that it's going to be of no use anyway?... And then find that we were actually better than the others?      
                                                                                                                                                          free digital  photos.net

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             How many times  after  attending interviews have we wondered how things might have turned out if only we had more confidence? How many players have lost their game to weaker opponents just because they lost hope? (Some just walked out for no other reason).
In contrast, on observing some beauty pageants, I've noticed that the winners were not really the most good looking ones, they only were more confident.


free digital photos.net



Have you noticed that driving uphill seems like an impossible task from far off? But as you start driving slowly, the hill ultimately goes under your feet, a little at a time.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          free digital photos.net


                                                                                                                                                                                                         
I had a similar experience when I was to give my first speech in front of a                                     large crowd. I shook so much from fright just thinking about it. I was
 almost sure that I would forget whatever I wanted to say and make a fool of myself. But then I told myself firmly, 'listen, you have nothing to fear. All these people are your friends, and well wishers. You speak to them everyday. Now you are seeing them all at the same time,that's all.'

You won't believe it, everybody asked me later how come I was so cool!

                                                                                                                                             

                                                                                                          free digital photos..net

So how about making a resolution today, both you and I that we'll never ever  waste the rest of our lives struggling outside open doors?
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                free digital photos.net

                                                                                                                                                         

Saturday 2 August 2014

Slaves of power

Fathima applied a lotion over her burns and then put on a long sleeved blouse over them. She turned and looked at the mirror. Not one black mark was seen. She then tied the matching green -red and white sari and watched the effect. It was perfect. Made her feel like the stalk of a beautiful flower. She combed her hair high and pinned it and then started for the interview.                                                                                          

 She had passed the main auditor's exam and now only had to pass a supplementary interview. Nobody from her tribe had passed this exam so far. Nor had expected her to pass it. It was like jumping from one rock to another in a flowing river - like she used to do when she was a child. She who  once had a fracture in her leg thrilled at every obstacle she overcame.

The other aspirants were pouring over books. Over preliminary questions she was already familiar with. When her turn came she walked in majestically. The interviewer was young, tall and smart in a white shirt. She answered her subject answers correctly. Even personal questions (perhaps for attitude, she guessed). After all she had the right attitude.

She was hungry when she came out. And tired. The sun teased her for her long sleeves. And then she remembered. The interviewer had mistaken her for a muslim because of the long sleeves. They were out of fashion now. No wonder he kept asking weird questions. Her name too must have added to the confusion (he had repeated it pensively). If only she had followed his line of thinking then, she would have cleared his doubts. Not that he could be prejudiced against muslims or show it here, but that was life.

At home father seemed tense and off his jovial self. A senior official who had come  to his office for inspection had written a not so good report about him because father's boss did not give him the expected 'pocket expenses' and the official who couldn't get a bite at the shark was satisfied to bite smaller fish just to show his power.
 Father had a good reputation at his department and in the village. Everyone knew that he'd leave home sharp at 8 every morning and how his bosses trusted him to finish to perfection any work that they had started and could not complete.
"Don't worry dad," Fathima tried to comfort him."Everyone knows about you and your work. This man is only making a fool of himself by giving you a bad report. People would have respected him if he had given this report about Subu, the fraud."
" I flinch thinking mainly of Subu," father said. "He was all teeth after the incident."
The phone rang and Fathima went to pick it. It was Karthick, her brother Justin's best friend.

"Hello Fathima, Justin has just had an accident. I'm with him at V.R.K hospital. Fractured his hand and had some scratches. Rammed his bike into a tree. I told him I'd drop him. He didn't listen. Priya jilted him suddenly in the evening. Said her father just got a promotion and has become an officer. They'll be shifting to the Officer's quarters.
"What will people say if they see me coming to your house,Justin?" she says coolly.
"She said that?" Fathima's eyes blinked as she took in the new shock.


At the hospital Justin was half dazed. Opened his eyes, said something and closed it again. Then again he opened his eyes as if he suddenly remembered something and father, son and daughter put their hands together in a thumbs up sign, a renewal of their previous decision to unitedly face and win life's challenges.
                                                                                                                                                                                                 

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Saturday 19 July 2014

Strings of Truth (poem)

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T'is like playing cards
Rice, rice, rice
Curry, curry, curry
Then beans, beans, beans
To pack in three sets
Then pick a set,
A bottle in another
Check the doors
And hurry, hurry, hurry.

The same routine
Day after day
Stings my nerves
Ends my romance
With life.

It's time to rebel
I think
But can't.
Commitment and debt
Push the wheels
On and on.

Thus engrossed
I nearly stepped
O'er a woman
Lying
Dead or alive
I couldn't tell
Flies covered
Her face and body.
Her back exposed
She lay in a puddle
Perhaps
 Let out unknowingly.

Like others
I too passed by (doing nothing)
Stung by the truth:
I have home, health and family.          

Sunday 13 July 2014

The Mysterious Visits (now edited)


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"Oh no, Beauty, you mustn't push your way inside like that," Kala said, gently pushing back the group of pigeons that were circling the balcony impatiently  as they waited for her husband Karuna. "Your boss is late today. Just wait till he comes."

She drew the curtains and night turned to day all of a sudden in the room. "Wake up, Karuna, she said. Your friends are all waiting  impatiently  for you. Helloo!..." and she gave him a light shake.

 Karuna seemed more and more withdrawn lately. His affinity with the birds was perhaps the only normal quality openly visible.
 He felt stiff and cold as his body rolled over. "NO... she screamed. You can't do this to me, Karuna, you can't..."

                        *      ..................*..................*.......................*.....................*

Priya was surprised to receive a call from her sister Kala so early in the morning.
"Priya," the voice said faintly. Priya... and then there was the sound of a thud and of the receiver dropping.
"Irresponsible burden,"  Priya's husband Bharat said as he cut open the lock to  enter Kala's door. "Had he been more responsible we wouldn't have had to bother so much about Kala," he grumbled, giving the door a good push.


 Kala was lying unconscious by the phone. Priya ran to get water and sprinkled it on Kala's face. Kala blinked her eyes open and was shocked to see Priya and Bharat by her side.Then fear swept over her face and she pointed towards her room. "Karuna's dead," she whispered.

In fifteen minutes the place was swarming with people.
"He shouldn't have resigned his job," Jim a neighbour said.
"Yes, that was how their troubles began," Jim's mother said.

Outside the house little Gopi gave a flower to three year old Shalu and she  accepted it shyly.
A  small piece of cloth moved all by itself across the grass. Janaki watched it in amazement and then followed it half with fear and half with curiosity. A rat got dismantled from under it and entered a hole in the ground leaving the cloth at its entrance.

Meanwhile the drummers arrived and started to beat the  flat drums as they do during funerals here. These typical drum beats indicate death and helps spread the news faster. When Kala's mother arrived the drummers beat the drums fast and loud. Loud beats indicate the arrival of a close relative or friend of the family.
"Kala, oh my Kala, see the plight he has left you in!" Kala's mother slapped her own forehead to express her grief.

Karuna's relatives began to come in too.
"He didn't look too good lately. Must have started on alcohol or something. Once that comes in, life is lost automatically," Karuna's brother Muthu confided to their father Arasu, privately. Arasu was an independent  man who had his own views. He knew that Karuna took after him but now he wasn't too sure that it was good on the whole.

Shanmugam, a one time friend who turned into a rival in Karuna's past business came too. "Poor Karuna had brains. If only he had stuck to his old business, all would have been well. Only his venturing out to strange places  made his foot slip. The places he's been visiting recently is notorious.

'Irresponsible, drunkard, gambler, womaniser'?  More salt in her wounds. None of this fit in with Kala's idea of Karuna, though she couldn't give a valid explanation for the places he was visiting or of his other strange behaviour. He used to visit some hill tribe area more  out of interest than for monetary gains. But there was the practical problem of debt. So he was depressed and had a heart attack...

The elders arrived to conduct the last rites and rituals. Holy water was poured here and there. Men washed themselves to ward off any curse that might continue to follow the family. And then they lifted the body.

Nobody noticed a stifled whiff of air come out from the inner room. It circled Kala's head and then followed the body hesitantly.

Kala suddenly remembered a cupboard in her husband's study. She was sure it wasn't connected with any business. Yet Karuna had been using it a lot lately.

After the crowds left she opened it quietly.She was right. Karuna had fought and won the rights of the tribal women of that village.Opened schools,brought water connection to it and made the women aware of their rights: against the lust of the men.

It was just like Karuna to work with the right hand what the left was unaware of.  

*                                       *                                           *                                *


                                        Basic idea given by Ashok Kumar

Wednesday 9 July 2014

The last laugh

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I woke up
 and looked
around me :
My body ached,
A sense of loss
engulfed me.
I took a breath deep
and set out afresh.

I worked
I earned
I gave my mother
A sustenance
She smiled.
My younger brother
hiding behind her
smiled too.

Twenty years later
I am still
toiling for nectar
while he smacks
the honey.
Mother relishes
his company
                                                           And will not send him out.                                              

 I wonder
when
 I'll ever
have the
 last laugh.



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Saturday 21 June 2014

Inventing a Thoughtoscope (poem)


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I'd like to invent
A thoughtoscope
to read (at a glance) people's thoughts
behind the smiles
and behind those silent tears
To know
analyse and understand
what caused them
or what people hide
from others and why.

And thus
cover the Earth
and record under columns
each one's thoughts;
Then add up everything
and see
what weighs more:
Wild thoughts or noble,
Happy thoughts or sad
foolish or wise, cowardly or brave 
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                free digital photos.net

 But then
such a multitude of thoughts 
will weigh me down
when I can't bear even my own.
I'd disagree with most
Then how do I host
 problems that man causes man
even his mother and father
sister and brother


We can only form a chain to unite
to radiate
Positive and strong thoughts
and pass them along
in a stream of goodwill
letting them multiply its force
as each player lends a hand
to volley them through the
courts of life.
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Saturday 14 June 2014

It's a Birthday song


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                                                     I am 1 year old.

Sunday 1 June 2014

Dear Readers,
Thank you for your continual support and encouragement. I've been irregular for the past few weeks because I'm trying to get some of my work published. This being the first time please bear with me. I'll let you know as soon as I have any news.
Yours,
Wini.B. Solomons

Tuesday 27 May 2014

A bubble bursts...(now edited)

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"Shanthi Villa?" the auto (tuk tuk) driver was obviously surprised. His shocked expression frightened me. Why? I asked hesitantly. "No, nothing," he said. "It's just that the house is  deserted  and  I haven't seen or taken anybody there so far."

"Yes, it's 16 years since I was last here.  My mom lives there." I said."Was bedridden from an accident. Now that I can travel I've come  here at last."

 "Good of you to remember your mother," he said.

"Isn't it natural?" I asked. "Anybody else,maybe as you say.But how can one forget one's mother?"

"That's what you and I think. But  not everybody thinks so, Sir" he said. He looked around 30. Too young to be so philosophical, I thought.

"You seem to have experienced it personally," I said. He nodded.
"You've roused my curiosity. Mind sharing it? I asked.

He sighed and started,"I was working on a farm and learned everything about it. Then one day my owner called me and said,"You've done a great job, Chandru. I can't find another as dedicated as you. My daughter who is abroad is calling me to settle down with her. I'm also getting old. I can trust only you to love the farm and look after it as your child,just as I did all these years."
Thus saying, he wrote it all on my name and left. You won't find such a good man as my master, Sir. So I did just as he said and developed it well.

 Then my eldest brother comes to me. "Chandru," he says. "Only you can help me. I can't live without Meera. She haunts me day and night. But you know my income. How will her father, a central government employee give her to me as long as this automobile shop doesn't even provide enough for me?"

 "But I don't have enough in hand, Maruthu. How can I help you?" I ask.
"You have a large farm to support you, mother and your family," he says again and again. Finally I mortgage a portion of the farm and give him the money. He starts a cloth shop and it picks up by and by.

He was just talking of returning the money to me when Logesh, our second brother says that a friend had promised him a government job. But he needed cash immediately for the 'under the table' and 'over the table' business. So Maruthu and I pool up enough cash to take a new loan and we give it to Logesh. Within a year he gets married and then slowly both my brothers disappear without a trace....just like that.

He shook his head and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. A fully loaded lorry passed by, almost grazing against our rickshaw. The auto swayed but Chandru steered it back deftly.
"I'm not in a hurry. Maybe we should stop  here for a while," I suggested.  But he shook his head and continued...

"Eventually the farm goes out of my hand and my mother, wife and 3 month old baby move out into the street.

We were passing by the bridge of a four way. He slowed down. "See this nook between the bridge and the street? I tied a sheet here at this very place for privacy and we lived here - my old mother, my wife, my child and I. Believe it?" He looked  majestic and  lost in thoughts. I tried to imagine him in this place but couldn't. He didn't fit in.

"My mother couldn't bear it. My brothers should have kept her at least. She became mentally affected. My wife gave me the last of  her jewels . I mortgaged them to treat my mother. She's better now but has to take tablets all her life.

"When I was at the hospital I met an old classmate of mine. He's a doctor now. I was embarrassed to see him  right then...tried to escape, but he saw me and waved,hastening towards me.He hugged me and said, "Chandru, I miss you, da. You always had that zeal for life. I remember you whenever life gets tough."

 I couldn't control myself  and the tears started flowing. Shouldn't have done it at that time and place but I just couldn't stop. Only then I realised that I had so much tension in me. Told him my story and he got me this auto - just like that, without any fuss.

"I know you and your principles," he says. "Look after your mother for me. I've eaten so many meals made by her : the unforgettable Susheela Aunty. Take my children to and from school everyday. That'll be your way of paying me back."
 He didn't listen to any explanation. The world has this kind of people too.

We reached Shanthi Vilas, my destination. But by then I remembered something else.
" Susheela Aunty - was your father's name Murugan, by any chance?"
"Yes, of course. But.. but how do you know?"he asked.

" My father's name was Ganeshan. I vaguely remember mother saying that your dad had some misunderstanding with grandfather and got separated. She used to worry about you people." I said.
"So?"
"So welcome home my dear cousin," I say and grab his arms.
                                                                                     
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