tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-670247420429055962024-03-05T22:02:12.927-08:00BLOOMING AFRESH ( மீண்டும் மலரும் ) -- Come, Get Refreshed,Pass it on....Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-45686737501910495382016-11-15T06:30:00.005-08:002016-11-15T06:34:05.858-08:00A Rare and Encouraging Ma - in Law<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzL6uhhO7i-cyLvwIWC2bt0-16x3CjUQTxNyJp97k5txLlDoTSBEkpmcfTGkbj1M2BYy_W09zwreaZ3RlW7TGwRMW8cKeTtWeggjWUO2a5Oz-wt9-fd14I2bC8WRp3ZZFJrsLmyKfyQ/s1600/coconuts-jelly-in-coconut-shell-on-white-background-100413281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzL6uhhO7i-cyLvwIWC2bt0-16x3CjUQTxNyJp97k5txLlDoTSBEkpmcfTGkbj1M2BYy_W09zwreaZ3RlW7TGwRMW8cKeTtWeggjWUO2a5Oz-wt9-fd14I2bC8WRp3ZZFJrsLmyKfyQ/s320/coconuts-jelly-in-coconut-shell-on-white-background-100413281.jpg" width="292" /></a>"Lovely! and Cool!" Kalai exclaimed as she gulped the fresh juice of one tender coconut after another as a newly married bride. She had been in cold places through out her early days where coconut trees didn't grow, so this was a new delicacy to her. Seeing so many coconut trees in her new house thrilled her no end.<br />
<br />
"What did you do with all the coconuts until I arrived, Athai? (m.i.l)" she asked curiously.<br />
"We'd consume most of them and sell the rest," she said casually.<br />
"Oh my, see how much I've wasted," Kalai said, her sense of thrift returning suddenly.<br />
"You don't know how much I worried for my boy until you came. He was adamantly refusing to marry. Now that you arrived I am so relieved," she said, a serious look on her face. "So don't ever compare yourself with money."<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKoPWYkHS-lSnu1Y5EMvavfgCcQhA23C8hMf1WPQl6RODLRAO2hIfP4HTIqTymILoOPftCe8Jutvs7fGseS9hOO3lJeEsTa6A_jqq5-A1FcNsvNg-63cXZDVK0vAgJ9PgAXz37JOqXA/s1600/coconut+tree+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKoPWYkHS-lSnu1Y5EMvavfgCcQhA23C8hMf1WPQl6RODLRAO2hIfP4HTIqTymILoOPftCe8Jutvs7fGseS9hOO3lJeEsTa6A_jqq5-A1FcNsvNg-63cXZDVK0vAgJ9PgAXz37JOqXA/s1600/coconut+tree+2.jpg" /></a>The next month Kalai's m.i.l had to go out of station to attend a wedding. After she related all that happened there, Kalai related her experiences. "Guess what I did yesterday! I made the curry and avial (a mixture of many vegetables). I was so engrossed in trying to get it well that I nearly forgot to cook plain rice. Only while starting to set the table I realised that rice was missing!"<br />
"These things happen till it becomes a regular routine. I'm sure the curry and avail turned out well!"<br />
"Overlook the slips and mistakes and focus on better things, "she urged.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmgW3_62NJUFtdxCuDHMkR_rEr-CaMCNH4xgcI63ejxaDSXxqcNIWQ9zzGtAUdrFycTyl7s3SGM42T9EI76E76Ni7fahsF4L1x0bdW5p4sb1E_O142Q9zmMw3t-El0NwwStq05aczEg/s1600/happy+family+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmgW3_62NJUFtdxCuDHMkR_rEr-CaMCNH4xgcI63ejxaDSXxqcNIWQ9zzGtAUdrFycTyl7s3SGM42T9EI76E76Ni7fahsF4L1x0bdW5p4sb1E_O142Q9zmMw3t-El0NwwStq05aczEg/s1600/happy+family+2.jpg" /></a>That was how Kalai got started on her new journey. Things changed and they (the couple) shifted to a house on the next street. Kalai had applied for a competitive exam and was awaiting the result. She went to visit her ma-in -law and told her that she had done her exam quite well and was expecting to be selected. She was on her way to seeing the result. If it was positive she would come here and inform her. If, however by<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>
chance things turned out the other way, she would directly go home quietly and in that case she (the m.i.l) must not open that topic. Kalai would tell her on her own whenever she felt like it. She (m.i.l) agreed.<br />
<br />
As Kalai stepped into the room the m.i.l burst out clapping and shouting with joy, "I knew my daughter -in- law would pass. I just knew it!" She drew her into her arms and was whirling her around when the husband arrived at the doorstep.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjptEpxcjxGL73dok_9_OKAuWr2Hxjhmc33vMJ2g4z16H8JXLEJ1uloP18a2a2SvMvJbJx99spSCgU1tjroTWTBCwOOtCjljUtntOUH6IS3b3b8Nz1IekOGnyBECeMYKPxCh5swcCER-A/s1600/coconut++tree3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjptEpxcjxGL73dok_9_OKAuWr2Hxjhmc33vMJ2g4z16H8JXLEJ1uloP18a2a2SvMvJbJx99spSCgU1tjroTWTBCwOOtCjljUtntOUH6IS3b3b8Nz1IekOGnyBECeMYKPxCh5swcCER-A/s320/coconut++tree3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
"How is it possible?" he asked, almost in unbelief. "So many others might have competed too!"<br />
"Are you sure there's no mistake?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-82074797825744704572016-08-01T00:31:00.001-07:002016-08-05T22:30:06.702-07:00When I had a Treaty with a Snake<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The same mesmerising combination : scarlet and green. The same shades, I got to see it at last after a long search of around 40 years.<br />
<br />
It was in the beautiful surroundings of Assam. A land of rain and sun. Of good cheer and innocence<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ByJyLN8Sk5y60rh1OaeuByglnrX8pLCOsr0FVhjNg9XOFg1neC07Zy6u5ghuN0lQgsJOnshDTQkFZvfZf5yNiBeAMivZtQEbGyPgpsjv1T8yXSV0Oys7qRhtG2852QkK5r4IHrYihw/s1600/house++2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ByJyLN8Sk5y60rh1OaeuByglnrX8pLCOsr0FVhjNg9XOFg1neC07Zy6u5ghuN0lQgsJOnshDTQkFZvfZf5yNiBeAMivZtQEbGyPgpsjv1T8yXSV0Oys7qRhtG2852QkK5r4IHrYihw/s320/house++2.jpg" width="320" /></a> (at least it was that then, 40 years ago). I spotted a scarlet flower in the garden at the front of our house. This flower grew in plenty behind my house, I knew but when did it land here?<br />
<br />
I bent to pick it but something else moved beside it. A dark pepper with a tiny shutter opening and closing lightly like the wind. And then I understood.<br />
<br />
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<br />
I was looking into the eye of a snake.! But again something was different. I was too close to it to think of fear. Moreover it was a small creature like me and only wanted to<br />
escape. So I backed away slowly and gave it space. It almost seemed to smile and nod too. As she moved and swayed her belly and hips I couldn't help admiring her grace and beauty - I, who generally find reptiles creepy (pardon me, reptile lovers).<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1WgwaJ15t7W177pA_xOejyzxJKkl3niYtpq_0a1_cJsH3rW6WL5bwC6eauaoI1ibGc_FdgxXbfRKg1nlZrS5NStuRmq3dPFW6g0SSqyKWjgCAQK-zki1WX_gi9TzcxVBonFWDUdXSw/s1600/house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1WgwaJ15t7W177pA_xOejyzxJKkl3niYtpq_0a1_cJsH3rW6WL5bwC6eauaoI1ibGc_FdgxXbfRKg1nlZrS5NStuRmq3dPFW6g0SSqyKWjgCAQK-zki1WX_gi9TzcxVBonFWDUdXSw/s320/house.jpg" width="238" /></a>The colour combination and design on her back were perfect. I had not seen such a thing of beauty to match it until then -living or non living. I wondered why the textile industry had not thought up such a combination.<br />
<br />
And I've wondered thus these forty years. Until yesterday. When after finishing my purchases I entered a shop just out of curiosity and was shown a saree with just that combination. Scarlet and green with a touch of gold. Alas! my purse was empty.<br />
<br />
Though that shop was in another city and I have no chance of visiting it in the near future, a thing of beauty is a joy forever. That picture of beauty will remain in my mind for a long time to come.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6IivYxVBaCEUNmaEt6LZO5rWcNmFw_jOPBr-Y94PlIQXj-4pZ3ofBb2QlfeHphezpH-doBd3SnV7B8kCFh6D0GC-QN5Ep1NAVbovVT-D6AXrQ-NwcMmGtKyHQarR7rPLuVqiakvXo9g/s1600/snake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6IivYxVBaCEUNmaEt6LZO5rWcNmFw_jOPBr-Y94PlIQXj-4pZ3ofBb2QlfeHphezpH-doBd3SnV7B8kCFh6D0GC-QN5Ep1NAVbovVT-D6AXrQ-NwcMmGtKyHQarR7rPLuVqiakvXo9g/s1600/snake.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-88893275880544735612016-07-23T08:41:00.000-07:002016-11-15T06:25:19.345-08:00A Rare and Encouraging Ma - in - Law<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzL6uhhO7i-cyLvwIWC2bt0-16x3CjUQTxNyJp97k5txLlDoTSBEkpmcfTGkbj1M2BYy_W09zwreaZ3RlW7TGwRMW8cKeTtWeggjWUO2a5Oz-wt9-fd14I2bC8WRp3ZZFJrsLmyKfyQ/s1600/coconuts-jelly-in-coconut-shell-on-white-background-100413281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzL6uhhO7i-cyLvwIWC2bt0-16x3CjUQTxNyJp97k5txLlDoTSBEkpmcfTGkbj1M2BYy_W09zwreaZ3RlW7TGwRMW8cKeTtWeggjWUO2a5Oz-wt9-fd14I2bC8WRp3ZZFJrsLmyKfyQ/s320/coconuts-jelly-in-coconut-shell-on-white-background-100413281.jpg" width="292" /></a>"Lovely! and Cool!" Kalai exclaimed as she gulped the fresh juice of one tender coconut after another as a newly married bride. She had been in cold places through out her early days where coconut trees didn't grow, so this was a new delicacy to her. Seeing so many coconut trees in her new house thrilled her no end.<br />
<br />
"What did you do with all the coconuts until I arrived, Athai? (m.i.l)" she asked curiously.<br />
"We'd consume most of them and sell the rest," she said casually.<br />
"Oh my, see how much I've wasted," Kalai said, her sense of thrift returning suddenly.<br />
"You don't know how much I worried for my boy until you came. He was adamantly refusing to marry. Now that you arrived I am so relieved," she said, a serious look on her face. "So don't ever compare yourself with money."<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKoPWYkHS-lSnu1Y5EMvavfgCcQhA23C8hMf1WPQl6RODLRAO2hIfP4HTIqTymILoOPftCe8Jutvs7fGseS9hOO3lJeEsTa6A_jqq5-A1FcNsvNg-63cXZDVK0vAgJ9PgAXz37JOqXA/s1600/coconut+tree+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKoPWYkHS-lSnu1Y5EMvavfgCcQhA23C8hMf1WPQl6RODLRAO2hIfP4HTIqTymILoOPftCe8Jutvs7fGseS9hOO3lJeEsTa6A_jqq5-A1FcNsvNg-63cXZDVK0vAgJ9PgAXz37JOqXA/s1600/coconut+tree+2.jpg" /></a>The next month Kalai's m.i.l had to go out of station to attend a wedding. After she related all that happened there, Kalai related her experiences. "Guess what I did yesterday! I made the curry and avial (a mixture of many vegetables). I was so engrossed in trying to get it well that I nearly forgot to cook plain rice. Only while starting to set the table I realised that rice was missing!"<br />
"These things happen till it becomes a regular routine. I'm sure the curry and avail turned out well!"<br />
"Overlook the slips and mistakes and focus on better things, "she urged.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmgW3_62NJUFtdxCuDHMkR_rEr-CaMCNH4xgcI63ejxaDSXxqcNIWQ9zzGtAUdrFycTyl7s3SGM42T9EI76E76Ni7fahsF4L1x0bdW5p4sb1E_O142Q9zmMw3t-El0NwwStq05aczEg/s1600/happy+family+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmgW3_62NJUFtdxCuDHMkR_rEr-CaMCNH4xgcI63ejxaDSXxqcNIWQ9zzGtAUdrFycTyl7s3SGM42T9EI76E76Ni7fahsF4L1x0bdW5p4sb1E_O142Q9zmMw3t-El0NwwStq05aczEg/s1600/happy+family+2.jpg" /></a>That was how Kalai got started on her new journey. Things changed and they (the couple) shifted to a house on the next street. Kalai had applied for a competitive exam and was awaiting the result. She went to visit her ma-in -law and told her that she had done her exam quite well and was expecting to be selected. She was on her way to seeing the result. If it was positive she would come here and inform her. If, however by<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">free digital photos.net</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>
chance things turned out the other way, she would directly go home quietly and in that case she (the m.i.l) must not open that topic. Kalai would tell her on her own whenever she felt like it. She (m.i.l) agreed.<br />
<br />
As Kalai stepped into the room the m.i.l burst out clapping and shouting with joy, "I knew my daughter -in- law would pass. I just knew it!" She drew her into her arms and was whirling her around when the husband arrived at the doorstep.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjptEpxcjxGL73dok_9_OKAuWr2Hxjhmc33vMJ2g4z16H8JXLEJ1uloP18a2a2SvMvJbJx99spSCgU1tjroTWTBCwOOtCjljUtntOUH6IS3b3b8Nz1IekOGnyBECeMYKPxCh5swcCER-A/s1600/coconut++tree3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjptEpxcjxGL73dok_9_OKAuWr2Hxjhmc33vMJ2g4z16H8JXLEJ1uloP18a2a2SvMvJbJx99spSCgU1tjroTWTBCwOOtCjljUtntOUH6IS3b3b8Nz1IekOGnyBECeMYKPxCh5swcCER-A/s320/coconut++tree3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
"How is it possible?" he asked, almost in unbelief. "So many others might have competed too!"<br />
"Are you sure there's no mistake?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-87721088799426155162016-06-11T10:22:00.003-07:002016-09-08T07:03:53.680-07:00A seat in the bus - signs of a heart here and there<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3C3yCoWmtFTw5ftvA9ZO77jfphyphenhyphenMcP-wmMNvoBzwo6mfrPM-EDNYY_Vn9TJHdbMfM9t5pjsY7RaS7WPbreid9J1ZzKxFMRftZAQs189iSXaMDLnPhnRnKSzlC7acoIejAWaj94pLkg/s1600/bus+stop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3C3yCoWmtFTw5ftvA9ZO77jfphyphenhyphenMcP-wmMNvoBzwo6mfrPM-EDNYY_Vn9TJHdbMfM9t5pjsY7RaS7WPbreid9J1ZzKxFMRftZAQs189iSXaMDLnPhnRnKSzlC7acoIejAWaj94pLkg/s320/bus+stop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
bus to Theni entered the bus stand and turned round the
crowded corner. Some people passed handkerchiefs or towels to the passengers inside
to reserve the seats.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Radha
spotted an empty seat, ran to it and sat down. Then she saw the water bottle at
the corner of the seat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“How
dare you sit on the seat I booked!” A woman of about forty thundered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
“There are two seats by my side.” Radha moved her legs to provide the woman a way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
“An object on the seat means that three seats are booked. Don’t you know that?” she asked, a hand on her hip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
“ I sat on a vacant seat and I entered the bus before you. Your water bottle can only represent a single
seat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “Don’t
talk too much. Just get up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
“No way. If you don’t sit here now I’ll ask someone else to sit here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
The woman turned towards the
aisle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “
Mother, come here and sit down quickly. Nirmala, where are you? You ass. Sit
here now."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
“<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">But
Sharmila,” the mother protests. “You should sit down. I’ll stand. It’s hardly
two weeks since your operation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Radha was confused. “What operation?” She asked the mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Uterus
removal” the mother confided.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Then
let the younger girl stand.” Radha suggested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">But
the younger girl sat down, unmindful of anything else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“We’ll
see to it. You needn’t advice us.” Sharmila retorted rudely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“I’m
sorry. I don’t need this seat.” Radha got up and walked away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRld2QIKLUaWqUXzmoYOkzEsnDgTmfANEztmk3Q58HQTt-FRPBa8wQ-1vf0eBuLThl4naPC50JM2lSpWi-VLiFfdXEsYuVvYw9sc4rp9rpxi8TaoR2sK2YAOvVvpGByNH7ndKLoSJohQ/s320/old-bus-1002636.jpg" /></div>
</div>
Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-69885942981164692282016-06-05T10:08:00.001-07:002016-06-05T10:17:28.156-07:00Steaming Hot - Most Indian Moms Experience<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2-09l30VKi6E2HjPBi7ymRVi-N6q9ThaHZOpWSPSosXBeZtocCddamQWL2Ccelt7oNrhngAeq1l3R1sUS2a1VT9RK84KuHOIP-oaLNAuu3HpdKJUHaeGlR4ilRNDfBYtzZUucux45w/s1600/mom1.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2-09l30VKi6E2HjPBi7ymRVi-N6q9ThaHZOpWSPSosXBeZtocCddamQWL2Ccelt7oNrhngAeq1l3R1sUS2a1VT9RK84KuHOIP-oaLNAuu3HpdKJUHaeGlR4ilRNDfBYtzZUucux45w/s1600/mom1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> Free digital photos.com</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Most
moms of India might have experienced the hurry-burry of trying to get their
child to eat something before they leave for School/College. Or at least of
getting them carry their tiffin boxes with them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> If
we are even one minute late the child tends to run out with a ‘I’m late. I
can’t wait’ attitude and we see moms running behind them with a “here, at least
drink this milk”, glass in hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I remember my own mom slipping a box of hot
chappaties down a small gap in our fence in the Nilgiris. It was a hill station
and I had to walk around our fence to reach a lower road to go to school.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> But
perhaps my own crazy action a few days ago will stay in our minds a little
longer. My College going daughter had come home for a few days after a gap of
two and a half months. Now that got me mad with excitement and I hardly knew
what I was doing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Cooking
her special dishes, seeing if the clothes I bought her fitted her well (and
whether she liked them enough to agree using them), listening to her College
stories without commenting unless she asked for it, taking her to church on
Sunday, taking her shopping locally, to friends’ houses, functions, etc.;
guiding her, watching her practice for a play, giving ideas at the appropriate
time…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Suddenly
it was almost time for her to leave and I remembered that I had sugar, butter
and eggs –just right for a cake for her. Not advisable for us at our age and
she would miss the fun of enjoying a home baked cake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Her
dad was out of station and I had to leave her at the Railway junction on my
own. With around an hour left for us to start, I just couldn’t bear the thought
of her leaving without the cake. So I swung into action. Within 45 minutes the
cake gave out its characteristic smell and I hurried to open it without even
first testing to see if it was cooked. It wasn’t. Immediately I closed it and
switched it on again. Time wasted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I
served her dosais and her favourite egg curry. With the remaining ten minutes,
even if I scraped the sides to get the cake out, it would be steaming hot. And
would turn to crumbs easily. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
The auto sounded at our doorstep. So we locked the house and hurried.
While my daughter went to the waiting train, I went to buy my platform ticket.
I saw her peep out from her seat but spotted a cement table-top like structure,
perhaps built to hold a tank or water cooler or something but seemed specially
convenient for me. So out of the bag came my baking vessel, cake and all with
another container for it, knife and a small box to house her piece of cake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
The cake was cut and a sizable piece transferred to her small tuck box (with
a small opening to let the moisture out).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
And I ultimately had time to chat with my daughter casually as the
engine shunted and went to join the front side of the train. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgirEsKHSDO01kKo4JBfBHkwFom6oGKkEl8JhpZF8Z-ZbgSvxPhygHgsP42CPxzDsIBZuTHChW5VA6qEydSAHBAzeAXYRap6Xf12ukKe8841T5KKWVX6i0YLJtE0rJflWUt0XmDpTqfkA/s1600/home-made-cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgirEsKHSDO01kKo4JBfBHkwFom6oGKkEl8JhpZF8Z-ZbgSvxPhygHgsP42CPxzDsIBZuTHChW5VA6qEydSAHBAzeAXYRap6Xf12ukKe8841T5KKWVX6i0YLJtE0rJflWUt0XmDpTqfkA/s320/home-made-cake.jpg" width="212" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">P.S – The cake turned out more delicious than any I
have baked so far.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-51598571640120050032016-05-04T22:41:00.000-07:002016-06-05T10:51:25.839-07:00Expectations<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">She
briefly took the phone wire from her mouth and greeted the receptionist. Then fixed
it back again and continued speaking into it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Come
on, Shyam, Do you expect me to believe such nonsense?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She
pulled out a chair from an unoccupied table and sat down. She was slim and
tall, around 5’8”. Her bright red lips matched her red and black tops. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Even
Salman who was threatening the waiter with a<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘if you had just told me I would have showed
the lot of you to make an omelette the right way,’ turned around to see what others were looking
at.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">And
naturally the waiter had to see why Salman had stopped so suddenly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">A
small white rabbit peeped out of her right pocket. The girl stroked its head
and throat gently and then thrust it inside, all the while continuing on the
phone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Okay,
Shyam, it may be an ordinary matter for you. But it doesn’t suit me one bit,
understand?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“What? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“YES,
I agree that I’m traditional in my values, very traditional. In fact I’m
surprised you didn’t notice it till now. So let me get it clear once and for
all. Its goodbye forever and I don’t want to hear your voice or see your face
anymore, got it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She
pulled the earphones off and buried her face in her hands. The whole place was
silent as if to share her loss. “A glass of apple juice first please,” she said
to the waiting waiter, uncovering her face briefly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“You
serve this dish to that lady there,” Salman continued in a whisper “and see
what happens. Your chef will be fired in ten minutes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Excuse
me, Sir, but that lady was so pleased with yesterday’s pudding that she gave me a 500 rupee note tip.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Nonsense!
You think I’ll believe that?” Salman said, thumping the table so forcefully
that the young girl sitting at the opposite table let out an involuntary cry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Her
big eyes were fixed on the door. She huddled herself like a mouse on hearing a
cat’s approaching meows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Relax,
Rita, they’re not going to search for you here now,” the elderly lady by her
side said. “My brother has cleverly diverted them to the north. In fifteen
minutes we’ll be travelling south. You must spend the night at Ravi’s house. In
the morning he’ll take you to the registrar’s office. Shankar will be waiting
there. Just sign the register, pose for a photo and you’ll come out as a
married woman, understand? Now show me how you’ll hold Shankar’s arm tomorrow:
Ah! That blush will do. Now finish your coffee and let’s go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">But
Rita kept staring at another couple who were happily sharing a drink using two
straws. Their eyes were half closed, half admiring as they looked up from their
drink to smile at each other now and then. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Shankar and she never enjoyed such a peaceful
moment together. Would things suddenly change after tomorrow?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She
stretched out her hands to hold the table but her head was spinning rapidly and
she found herself moving closer to the floor…</span></div>
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-4475450952750959992016-04-09T10:16:00.000-07:002016-04-12T01:58:41.409-07:00Matilda's Decision<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 37.3333px;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Two young girls looked at her, said something and giggled...</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> <span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">Matilda smiled to herself as she glanced at her reflection in the glass of a barber
shop on the way to the library. Her first day.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbumvpOw18VYQc5_AGJ_Kjf1l755X0NlDph_esrUNWfQcrywqTkfioTI0oZ7V8P1EUcMPh50-4vYASIhh25S_GkO-UIDI63DvqmA8e98rYw_eXt7tcobVh1Sqw1_IoM1dRP0EIi2uHAg/s1600/two+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbumvpOw18VYQc5_AGJ_Kjf1l755X0NlDph_esrUNWfQcrywqTkfioTI0oZ7V8P1EUcMPh50-4vYASIhh25S_GkO-UIDI63DvqmA8e98rYw_eXt7tcobVh1Sqw1_IoM1dRP0EIi2uHAg/s1600/two+girls.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The library was stacked
beyond its capacity. From behind the bookshelves two young girls looked at her sneeringly, said something and giggled. Prasanth sir was at the counter, busily going
through the data in the computer.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Good
Morning, sir,” she said cheerfully.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"> “I was just making sure that you wouldn’t have any problems taking over.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“I’m
sure I won’t, sir. Not when taking over from you."</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He gestured to the girls,“Lakshmi,
Keerthi, why are you looking at madam like that? She is the new librarian I was
telling you about. Come and introduce yourselves.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Sorry,
you resemble a woman we know. So we were confused.” Lakshmi said and Keerthi
nodded.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Readers
kept coming in. So Matilda was busy all day. She noticed a few girls looking up
from their books and admiring her looks and her </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">ear-rings.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">“I’ll
ask my mother to get me a pair like those. See here, I've copied the design.”one girl told another.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Matilda had
bought the earring for Rs 40. Were they going to order the model in gold?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
day passed by pleasantly and Matilda was thankful for the double benefit. Doing
what she loved in the sweet presence of books; and getting paid for it. She’d
get Rs 15,000 at the end of this month. She could pay back her chitti (mother’s
younger sister) Rs 5000 every month for a year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She’d
give her mother Rs 7000-Rs 8000 to run the family. Then she need not go to work
in other people’s houses any more. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> If only they could shift to another locality…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">After
all the readers had left, Lakshmi and Keerthi helped her lock all the doors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Where
do you come from?” Lakshmi asked her finally, as Keerthi looked on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“From
Sowbhagya colony,” Matilda said as a matter of fact and continued walking.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"> After gesturing to Lakshmi,, Keerthi asked her, “Do you know anybody called Mary?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“She’s
my mother,” Matilda said proudly. “Do you know her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“She
used to come near our houses previously. You resemble her closely.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Where
do you live?” Matilda asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Sogous
Nagar,” they replied in unison.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“And
is your father Mr. Muthulingam?” Matilda turned to look at them. They shied away
with guilty looks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mary
had worked in Muthulingam’s house. He had tried to harass her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">When
she called for help, he put a false case of theft on her. But a smart lawyer brought
the truth to light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “We are not
responsible for our parents’ mistakes,” Matilda said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “Let’s be friends."</span></div>
Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-30201569857195896072016-04-03T09:59:00.002-07:002016-04-07T07:32:37.321-07:00The Beauty of Regeneration<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUv6vXEvqYps2YQo8hu5DqRAxM-mllNKtUL6C-jsgnrexJhWatQrknVFFJe2pI76yEXREZU9MTi6AvVzaJ7e3pIG0C4QLIzCJ00KU5UQYWtIyMFweZxpN6eln3OleRB0s1NSH0i77dgg/s1600/hope+-despair+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUv6vXEvqYps2YQo8hu5DqRAxM-mllNKtUL6C-jsgnrexJhWatQrknVFFJe2pI76yEXREZU9MTi6AvVzaJ7e3pIG0C4QLIzCJ00KU5UQYWtIyMFweZxpN6eln3OleRB0s1NSH0i77dgg/s1600/hope+-despair+2.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> free digital photos.net</span><br />
<br />
As I sat in the wheel chair of guilt<br />
I watched others play<br />
Running, Leaping<br />
Laughing, Screaming.<br />
<br />
<br />
Lessons floated past me<br />
Overshadowed<br />
By thought.<br />
<br />
<br />
Wishing I were<br />
Born as another<br />
For it struck me<br />
That the wrong wasn't mine.<br />
<br />
<br />
I pity the doer too<br />
Victim of another case<br />
Whose defensive reaction<br />
Backfired<br />
On me.<br />
<br />
Like an exhausted bull<br />
Amidst a pride of lions<br />
I lost myself : A meal finished and forgotten.<br />
And joined the earth.<br />
<br />
<br />
Books came to my rescue<br />
And friends too<br />
Like the rain<br />
And sunshine<br />
Both my blood and my cyst<br />
Defy nature<br />
To regenerate anew.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOHDgwXgzSnjROp-NYQ-QNdtNZUF_Zq-chnhVtbqjCMEd6B63B6XsqfaWo7-CmLwCMR1SvGRS_raIrYYwG2vZd_mse04V-lcQ_zoqgDkwVl6uc5C6LyC6WU6mSTh1SCHWz4adlXV7IFg/s1600/hope-despair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOHDgwXgzSnjROp-NYQ-QNdtNZUF_Zq-chnhVtbqjCMEd6B63B6XsqfaWo7-CmLwCMR1SvGRS_raIrYYwG2vZd_mse04V-lcQ_zoqgDkwVl6uc5C6LyC6WU6mSTh1SCHWz4adlXV7IFg/s200/hope-despair.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-25368512577873372682016-02-18T07:28:00.001-08:002016-02-18T08:13:24.164-08:00A Long Break<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b> A Long Break</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
Sorry friends,<br />
<br />
I should have informed you earlier that I have to be involved in some other commitments for some time. So please forgive my absence. Your support and encouragement kept me going for so long.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJ3bfbBaYBQgaGHX9iMA5fVy7rHW-qtDpE0_zE1osQlbnwDtp7o3S3XTeld3AumYfqI_HaPcZJODx5HD8gxAg2tPRKd8vikm3BBA0dbmXlNYUivJWvfCnmzO4WMDU2gHg-U615eky9w/s1600/breaking-rope-10090175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJ3bfbBaYBQgaGHX9iMA5fVy7rHW-qtDpE0_zE1osQlbnwDtp7o3S3XTeld3AumYfqI_HaPcZJODx5HD8gxAg2tPRKd8vikm3BBA0dbmXlNYUivJWvfCnmzO4WMDU2gHg-U615eky9w/s320/breaking-rope-10090175.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Hope to be back with a bang sometime.Lots of love,<br />
Gratefully yours,<br />
W.B.S</div>
Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-50067959093035533412016-01-26T07:37:00.002-08:002016-03-11T06:28:01.061-08:00Beginning the New Year in a Hospital<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"This is the only time in a year that we can all get together."My daughter said, referring to her cousins, a serious look on her face.<br />
<br />
"So?" I asked, half wondering how big a budget she was referring to.<br />
<br />
"So we ought to go to a special place for two days at least."She said. And with that began a series of discussions, map searching, references and what not. Her cousins arrived, the discussions continued and tickets were bought.<br />
<br />
But after the initial celebrations,she lay down with a fever on Christmas day. We waited for it to pass but the time came for them to leave and she didn't get up.On the third day we went in for a blood test fearing the dreadful typhoid but were in for a shock. Her blood report said negative for typhoid but her platelet count was way below normal.<br />
<br />
We were frightened but anyway decided to go for a blood test the next day at a more recognised lab.Meanwhile our doctor gave her a small intra- venous drip.<br />
<br />
That lab test showed a much lesser platelet count. With time running out our doctors advised us to get her admitted in one of the famous hospitals at Madurai where they would have advanced facilities to treat her.<br />
<br />
So we started the morning of 31st December in the neat room of a well maintained hospital. And began a series of blood tests and to await the result of each test.For my daughter there was the additional fear/anger at seeing so much blood drained out of her.<br />
<br />
When some tests were being done or she was being examined by the doctors, we had to wait outside her room, the last on that floor and overlooking a beautiful lake. The mornings were the most special.. with the breeze and the birds. We couldn't have chosen a more beautiful place for a holiday. Was fate teasing us - or trying to comfort us? Luckily we had started the treatment right at the beginning. So she was actually very stable compared to others who suffered from the dreadful 'Dengue'. And hoped that the doctor would send us home for the new year celebrations. But it was not to be.<br />
<br />
We were awake as the clock struck twelve, watching the drops of the drip that took its own time to fall.I was tempted to help it hurry but was advised against it. Neither could we close our eyes, for fear that blood might go up the empty bottle if not stopped in time. So when the sweet smiling nurse came in and wished us a happy new year, our response was almost half hearted, angry that we were not amidst the usual cheers, smiles,prayers and crackers to encourage us about the new year.<br />
<br />
But her platelet count began to rise and in two days we were discharged from the hospital.Only as we shared our experiences with others, they told us how lucky we were. Usually the mild symptoms are ignored and people are caught unawares with sudden vomiting of blood, swelling of the eyes and other frightening symptoms.<br />
<br />
So began the rest of our journey with thankfulness for being alive and for<br />
my daughter's speedy recovery.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThjiz_HKB_SuRzENv1eVElgVKqcI5VY8q96AG0vHg4oJ9BiVZSyRxcBCtX1CfP0d2cVLaCIgHGFvH6rxpYMCwzghSPSn-iloaI4k655weK-wLssCtWfABRqfDOyoClkFHTdrzw1UBbg/s1600/hospi+bed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a>I pray for those who are held up longer. <br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZqOajriPRJaZ83W7b8rgbrpt1_3w2vlXJAB4pstFVnP93czugKhK2_qHCiWUw8juHCtCEngSa4M3dbzWI1_kuDjsbt0goA-S-9_zBydlwZZpb11FD8KIMBWcE7arcAdr55847bzuqQ/s1600/-patient-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZqOajriPRJaZ83W7b8rgbrpt1_3w2vlXJAB4pstFVnP93czugKhK2_qHCiWUw8juHCtCEngSa4M3dbzWI1_kuDjsbt0goA-S-9_zBydlwZZpb11FD8KIMBWcE7arcAdr55847bzuqQ/s320/-patient-.jpg" width="212" /></a></span></div>
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-26016039545037911372015-12-30T02:39:00.002-08:002016-01-09T04:57:29.108-08:00Let Laughter in, Erase Lines of Worry<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrI4s6Cc579ptmEKLGmSWmxf_MU-kvpxpbQYReEaZ7JT_lI1oYYVhNex_AadKzGEnS3IeQMlBRhNGkEs4laUa1msW5sQ_66iZL7exiE_ddleWGQxayIea5AfcYbkWmyXf3eyou-FZX9A/s1600/frown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrI4s6Cc579ptmEKLGmSWmxf_MU-kvpxpbQYReEaZ7JT_lI1oYYVhNex_AadKzGEnS3IeQMlBRhNGkEs4laUa1msW5sQ_66iZL7exiE_ddleWGQxayIea5AfcYbkWmyXf3eyou-FZX9A/s320/frown.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
After a day's hard work,<br />
The routine,<br />
The usual stress<br />
I take the bus<br />
Find a corner seat<br />
Put my face<br />
Against the wind.<br />
Feel its caress.<br />
<br />
My mind races<br />
Through a situation<br />
That has no answer<br />
East or West<br />
North or South<br />
And I squirm<br />
That there's no way out<br />
<br />
<br />
I look out.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1C3e3c1rteA7WlolYAEjpduihqx671FxtwSoSmjHO_tExn3y-Jr11k35aGDUIeBy5BVEnmoKRVz5xibB5V-m3sQNsgZaGgE2nFpjr7Qds3euwbqGAh07Lwpr3osVUyXYbnA-P0RH2Wg/s1600/laugh+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1C3e3c1rteA7WlolYAEjpduihqx671FxtwSoSmjHO_tExn3y-Jr11k35aGDUIeBy5BVEnmoKRVz5xibB5V-m3sQNsgZaGgE2nFpjr7Qds3euwbqGAh07Lwpr3osVUyXYbnA-P0RH2Wg/s320/laugh+2.jpg" width="320" /></a>And see a boy<br />
Of sixteen, seventeen<br />
In a roadside workshop<br />
Covered with grease<br />
Talking with a friend.<br />
<br />
He throws back his head<br />
And laughs.<br />
Freely, naturally.<br />
About what<br />
I can't guess.<br />
My forehead feels<br />
Its lines easing<br />
Lines I had not known were there.<br />
<br />
I realise that<br />
I need<br />
Calm wisdom and courage<br />
And then<br />
What would be would be<br />
It wasn't worth the lines<br />
On my forehead or<br />
In my mind.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKN7oZc8N4q63G71i2OpPxf9ZHlrkTD4nFoDpuPyFhkq9JY75kxnbwTojt_zsBcEdc7YtOQNug5G7MsmDb1hpgdTClT0lRCIU-xiwixz97uaPmXw2FDQ5szmHWKr5DJG1U-_SatxTwjw/s1600/laugh+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKN7oZc8N4q63G71i2OpPxf9ZHlrkTD4nFoDpuPyFhkq9JY75kxnbwTojt_zsBcEdc7YtOQNug5G7MsmDb1hpgdTClT0lRCIU-xiwixz97uaPmXw2FDQ5szmHWKr5DJG1U-_SatxTwjw/s400/laugh+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-8960503157088912162015-12-05T03:27:00.003-08:002015-12-05T03:39:45.894-08:00Chennai Floods - When Humanity Triumphed over Greed!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir5lMxXJJZIg1kOW9z8_qG4XoJVr513uBH9LzV14g5XrGn9mn200eINmQd2t9gb0o2Mk9V6YTsQ5ADDx-bMKh6H0j6ScQYUdRmWatMnCow6r796chT88pWnXSrO_RVDt0Icnt8_4h42Q/s1600/thank+you.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir5lMxXJJZIg1kOW9z8_qG4XoJVr513uBH9LzV14g5XrGn9mn200eINmQd2t9gb0o2Mk9V6YTsQ5ADDx-bMKh6H0j6ScQYUdRmWatMnCow6r796chT88pWnXSrO_RVDt0Icnt8_4h42Q/s320/thank+you.jpg" width="253" /></a></div>
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Thank you, thank you - a thousand times and more (<span style="font-size: x-small;"> free digital photos.com</span>)</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"> Never mind the cause of the floods: that's obviously of human origin - global warming, melting of the ice caps on mountains, chopping off the trees that should have sucked the water into the ground, the building of buildings right in the path of the rain water (when there were no rains and so people forgot about them anyway). For all these we can't segregate who were actually responsible and so maybe all of humanity is responsible anyway.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
But once the floods came and people found themselves in disaster, man rose to help man. Indeed, his huge heart woke up and people sheltered strangers, expecting nothing in return. Some shared food and water,even when not knowing when they themselves would receive fresh supplies.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc8lP44glO6p-fGSykXNw_VlmflaK3AY-ChQbITOYwiRxtocJRxhSIW9jLBLQJk6gIl-ZNdU4rRMdZzVECux1bH4e097ZAnaSWVG8PqHbCmzmuY3Na2Ao7Rl1hxsXqVrBFjUwVs6ds0Q/s1600/grandma+helping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc8lP44glO6p-fGSykXNw_VlmflaK3AY-ChQbITOYwiRxtocJRxhSIW9jLBLQJk6gIl-ZNdU4rRMdZzVECux1bH4e097ZAnaSWVG8PqHbCmzmuY3Na2Ao7Rl1hxsXqVrBFjUwVs6ds0Q/s320/grandma+helping.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Some rescued others from flowing water, again risking their own lives. Most forgot to sleep, waking others from disaster. Policemen, common men levelled roads,potholes and broke barriers to let the water flow out. Doctors, nurses, medical staff, trained, untrained reached out to help. Some lifted patients, the weak, elderly to better places. Some carried children, animals.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span> <span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">82 year old woman making chappathis for those in need</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></div>
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Fishermen lent their boats, themselves in rescue operations. Others cooked endlessly. Some others transported these food items and water. Electricians, wire men climbed poles, fixed current at places, cut off at others to avoid electrocution.</div>
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Children and youth emptied their savings, collected money from others and bought and distributed food, clothing,medicines, necessities. Some reminded the people that Cuddalore was worse hit than Chennai,(although it didn't get any attention) and diverted some help there.</div>
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The rest,sitting far away like me can only pass on helpline numbers and thank the brave and big hearts for widely outnumbering the few who thought of this as a time to fill their pockets. </div>
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-75466230307887981062015-11-30T09:15:00.004-08:002015-11-30T09:29:20.078-08:00Abdul Kalam - Indian People's First Choice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYHYZ_cvqvWJr73Hqz0n16r33Eh5bnzMuEEKHl7gR8OmYFap481iDaVKzDGGcp1lB6Zqt8JomxTyJRxlueyY3PbgXcY6BA-YolKArmNMM2jjXissAxRisAHiosZA2usrZFx9NMGEyiOg/s1600/abdul+kalam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYHYZ_cvqvWJr73Hqz0n16r33Eh5bnzMuEEKHl7gR8OmYFap481iDaVKzDGGcp1lB6Zqt8JomxTyJRxlueyY3PbgXcY6BA-YolKArmNMM2jjXissAxRisAHiosZA2usrZFx9NMGEyiOg/s1600/abdul+kalam.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
First Citizen : By law or by peoples' choice<br />
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Ask any teacher in India if she can confidently teach her students," that's a true Indian you can be proud of ." And most probably she'll come up with the same answer, 'Abdul Kalam'.<br />
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Because other exemplary humans lived in the freedom struggle times and it's difficult to ask youngsters to follow examples of long ago.So I as a teacher rejoiced to hear that a museum is to be built in Delhi in Dr.Abdul Kalam's memory. I wanted to share my joy immediately but meanwhile got caught up in discussing Chennai's recent floods.<br />
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Though he was a brainy and most successful scientist, the whole of India remembers him because of his humility and the goodwill he had towards others.Where else will you find a person so dedicated to inspiring youth? Who else travelled endlessly just to pass on his success to others?<br />
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Here are some contrasting <span style="font-size: large;">situations</span><br />
<br />
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 0.75in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> that endeared President A.P.J Abdul Kalam to the masses-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.25in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Abdul Kalam’s father was a muslim imam
of a local mosque. But he owned a ferry which took Hindu pilgrims to and fro
between Rameswaram and Dhanushkodi(Hindu places of pilgrimage).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.25in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The family was poor when Abdul was a boy
and he sold newspapers to help. Yet he ended up as the President of India.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.25in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He missed achieving his dream of
becoming a fighter pilot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">But he travelled all over India
inspiring the youth to follow their dreams.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Though he majored in Physics
and Mathematics and became</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"> India’s missile man,
he collaborated with Dr.Soma Raju to </span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> develop a low cost coronary stent named
the Kalam Raju stent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 76.5pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> These two again collaborated to develop a tablet
computer known as the Kalam Raju tablet for health care in rural areas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 76.5pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Though the BJP can hardly tolerate
Muslims, the Kalam-BJP reign went on very smoothly. (President-Prime Minister)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 76.5pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Though he had served as the President of
India, he went about humbly and almost unnoticed, teaching the youth at
different IITs,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 76.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">inspiring them to do their best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 76.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He maintained this humility to
thank all the teachers who inspired him, including his primary teachers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 63pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZldI5G5JjU-vngf8J3vA7Vaqi0Q5HLs9ZlWu49rVI0A9gVK9G87LvjnMZwq_O0pX-zNNikhhkgORQvGBlIj4QPxO0-QqXk5Gb-w-C92z9hyj_OzcVEiBgg3QwEN4V-3bM9E03454bw/s1600/abdul+kalam+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZldI5G5JjU-vngf8J3vA7Vaqi0Q5HLs9ZlWu49rVI0A9gVK9G87LvjnMZwq_O0pX-zNNikhhkgORQvGBlIj4QPxO0-QqXk5Gb-w-C92z9hyj_OzcVEiBgg3QwEN4V-3bM9E03454bw/s1600/abdul+kalam+2.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> He was a pure vegetarian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 63pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Though he died at the age of 83, he was
most followed by the youth of India all over the world!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="left" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 27pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;">May the museum inspire still more youth by his words and writings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Photos : Google images</div>
Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-84997019737676865382015-11-24T09:56:00.000-08:002015-11-30T06:51:21.272-08:00Coping with Natural Disasters in Future - Will being 'Swach Bharat' help? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">We need to learn from our experiences and put our hands and heads together to bring about a permanent solution.</span><br />
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TO err is human, but to learn from it is development.<br />
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It was a life time's achievement! To get land at the crowded city of Chennai this cheap and to build a house. A few handfuls of 'under the table' deals settled all the necessary legal matters. Nobody was being harmed, it seemed at the time.<br />
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And then those plastics.They told us, time and again to segregate the plastics and use it for road laying and the like. But where was the time for the voice of the environmentalists then? It was so neat and convenient to wrap up all the bin's contents in a plastic cover and toss it across the road. Whether it blocked the street dogs' or straying cows' stomachs was their own concern.<br />
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But now it is different. The recent experiences cannot be wiped out from our minds so easily.The close shave with loss and even death. The feeling of being trapped and separated from the outer world. The darkness. The power cut.The fear of snakes swimming into our houses. The thirst when our water supply was cut off . The starvation.<br />
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Now we know and understand. We will clear the way for the excess water to flow into the sea, if need be after all our rain water harvesting schemes have been used to the full. We will keep our city clean. We will segregate our wastes. And don't forget to tell the Corporation to do its part too.To provide the necessary bins and trucks and man power to clear the waste in time.<br />
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We Tamilians can do anything once we make up our minds. 'Swach Bharat? Okay, fine. Just see if we don't follow the rules. The biodegradable waste should end up in manure pits and covered with soil for some 3 months or more, right?<br />
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And the non-biodegradable should be collected all the more carefully and taken either for recycling or better still for direct use elsewhere where it will not in any case block water's flow: neither in roadside drains nor in other water bodies, irrespective of whether they are in use or not.<br />
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Tamilnadu's recent floods might have finally brought about a general awareness among the public. Awareness regarding the preventive measures we ought to take to avoid the stench of death and loss, the fear of resulting diseases, the unexpected displacement of our regular livelihood. The unknown potholes and manholes that cause so many accidents.<br />
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Disasters have visited us in the past. And we rose above them. Warned our children about them. And taught them to manage, to live 'humanely' and to respect lives. We shall do it again and this time it will be different. Because we learnt so much from the media. About people all across the world, their disasters and how they rose above them.<br />
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Photos : Google images<br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-33067986931178013872015-11-14T10:06:00.000-08:002015-11-18T08:29:27.521-08:00How They Met ...and Married<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Jessie pulled her sari tjghter about her in an involuntary gesture of self protection. Something about the man in turban sitting opposite her in the train compartment disturbed her. The newspaper he held was all a pretence. She was sure of that. Now and then he was casting furtive glances at her with a sly smile on his lips.<br />
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She was a teacher at a reputed school and was going back home for her quarterly holidays. Her father would be waiting for her at the station. This Christmas would be special for her. She would be allowed to wear a new necklace that they had got her. And that beautiful pink silk sari.<br />
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A veterinary doctor had come to 'see' her some ten days back. The family seemed pleased enough with whatever they had seen and heard of her.The doctor himself seemed to be a skinny guy. She couldn't catch a glimpse of him properly as he was far away and girls were not supposed to stare. So they might fix the engagement in the holidays and then the marriage between Christmas and New Year. That was the time the church would be fully decorated and everybody would be in a festive mood.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-5sl9zDmygo1k4Z2b3WAx9ot7rS-0VF5iQFzNqiN2bRgqpxp2ZrIuPLO4qYwK35Cp3aftsIzteYJJsSvcOOEf1FW2W-t7ANqUjstjaY5mlPI2xOOcGjbuDhd9cVVrCuzc0ulX86LIQ/s1600/bride+and+groom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-5sl9zDmygo1k4Z2b3WAx9ot7rS-0VF5iQFzNqiN2bRgqpxp2ZrIuPLO4qYwK35Cp3aftsIzteYJJsSvcOOEf1FW2W-t7ANqUjstjaY5mlPI2xOOcGjbuDhd9cVVrCuzc0ulX86LIQ/s320/bride+and+groom.jpg" width="288" /></a></div>
The train slowed down at her station and she got up to pull her suitcase out from the shelf above. The man opposite her immediately got it for her.She felt like telling him to mind his own business but just pulled it from him with a rough 'thank you' and turned away. Her brother had also come to the station. She showed him the man and said, "looks like he's been following me." The brother immediately turned his cycle and went after the man.<br />
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"You'd better leave my sister alone."he warned.<br />
."I don't think that's possible, brother-in-law," the man replied, pulling off his turban and false beard."I wanted to have a closer look at my bride, you know, and now hurry and start the wedding preparations."<br />
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The bride was my maternal aunt and that was how I got my fun loving uncle.<br />
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* * *<br />
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Satish was a handsome and enterprising engineer working abroad. So the next natural step was to search for a suitable bride for him. An elderly well wisher had found just the right bride for him. Well educated, wise, patient and caring, the well wisher was fully sure that the bride's temperament would be ideal for the modern, impatient engineer. Satish contacted the girl via the net and found her to be indeed the ideal match for him.In the meantime he found a new company with better opportunities and decided to switch jobs.<br />
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The date for the wedding had been fixed but the new company was in no mood to release their new employee even to attend his own wedding at India. Cards were printed and the guests were invited.<br />
But no one knew when the bridegroom would actually arrive. As the possibility of his arriving for his wedding grew dim, he began assuring his bride that even if he couldn't arrive in person at the appointed time, they'd complete the rituals via the net and be declared Man and wife at the appointed time.<br />
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Yet Mala, the bride still hoped. Eleven hours before the wedding the company gave the groom permission to leave and five hours before the wedding he arrived to find his decked up bride sleeping out of sheer exhaustion. He whisked her into a car at midnight and took her to the beach only to be threatened by the police who suspected some foul behaviour. Luckily some relatives came to his rescue and he and his bride had a chance to meet each other before their wedding.<br />
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This young couple are my house owners and are blessed with two beautiful children.<br />
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* *<br />
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A freedom fighter who had been in jail for a long time was shown the door by the fathers of all the prospective brides.<br />
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In those days relatives competed with one another in booking bridegrooms for their daughters. So this fatherless bridegroom was very downcast. He confided this to a friend who promised to get him a good bride. The friend went to his sister's hostel, lied to her and the staff that their father was ill and brought the poor unsuspecting girl out. Took her straight to a registrar's office and made her sign the marriage register.<br />
The girl's mother-in- law was a warm and broadminded person. She immediately welcomed the bride and did everything to make her feel at home.The student- suddenly- turned bride found herself to be the head of a long line of brothers and sisters-in-law. Yet she too soon fit into her role.<br />
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This (her adjustment) happens to be good for me because the bride turned out to be my mother-in-law.<br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-39116010302082076012015-10-31T04:06:00.000-07:002015-11-01T02:12:08.899-08:00That Encouraging Word<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6epusILP_GkaY9uBqn3H_inSq2dA20LdrQ_qVWKvRQWQ8cTC9osGljY9TOuNOoeUFf_dVd0Py3iAZ7LwH9gQlRUKLhSFOOvDKJcdATlCH8vHmw70f1tLEkuFf_5ihfucQLmRheuEww/s1600/GTN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6epusILP_GkaY9uBqn3H_inSq2dA20LdrQ_qVWKvRQWQ8cTC9osGljY9TOuNOoeUFf_dVd0Py3iAZ7LwH9gQlRUKLhSFOOvDKJcdATlCH8vHmw70f1tLEkuFf_5ihfucQLmRheuEww/s320/GTN.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Statue of the founder, GTN College, Dindigul<br />
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"I KNEW it all along, I could feel the sense of gratitude and the looks of admiration from my classmates, both boys and girls. Yet it felt good and truly boosted my spirits to hear it from my master when he told you about me the other day," my friend's daughter told her mother Nandini (my friend) recently.<br />
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'And hearing her say it the day after she graduated from her College boosted my spirits in turn because we really had reason to fear for her', Nandini explained.<br />
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'Her two years of Higher Secondary at a new school hadn't been good. How she landed there, hostel and all I still can't say.Some suggestion from her friends, some from mine and off she went. Her idea was to listen well in class and then open her books now and then to understand a concept. Just before tests and the exams she'd refresh what was in her mind.But it didn't work out there.<br />
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The authorities there who had produced some toppers believed in making the students reproduce the textbook, word for word. This would ensure full marks for the students and a name for the school. When my daughter produced the answer in her own words, she was hardly given a decent mark. Overcome by shame and guilt, she lost her reasoning and logic. In spite of our assurances that we only wanted her to be happy and confident, she showed symptoms of stress, depression and inferiority.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1f0yx_H7gqjUACAVDT60KODvBfVnq1K4j3BujeAdGXYlOpRUEvtW78S9_D610nMjKU0gOiLTCDkfOkAOFlvOycLYC1WQKyEeYtymMkU4appub4Se98aRJor_Ftusuli1pxY0BuvT8w/s1600/IMG_20150408_161059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1f0yx_H7gqjUACAVDT60KODvBfVnq1K4j3BujeAdGXYlOpRUEvtW78S9_D610nMjKU0gOiLTCDkfOkAOFlvOycLYC1WQKyEeYtymMkU4appub4Se98aRJor_Ftusuli1pxY0BuvT8w/s200/IMG_20150408_161059.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
Then to our surprise she passed with a 1st class and in fact with marks above 70%. But with every College expecting students with top marks, we had a tough time during admission. Anyway she was admitted to the GTN College and it proved to be a healing therapy for her.The positive and encouraging atmosphere there did her a world of good.<br />
<br />
. Most of her classmates being from villages, my daughter who had lived in towns through out had lots to learn from them : like sharing in the chores at home,being independent,etc.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBAhyphenhyphenVAPnzBb0cUY1pUwyjbVXZ8ZGgLp3EC7tWCsmEeCyc2AwtreFkcUsC1UxfCFa56cKOidAOxIZKbk4N4-wD2FG06SteehEMuqNS4ZeBKjTmZS4xaDDhk0a4pmUvxwjPWClIk8VvA/s1600/DSCN2874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBAhyphenhyphenVAPnzBb0cUY1pUwyjbVXZ8ZGgLp3EC7tWCsmEeCyc2AwtreFkcUsC1UxfCFa56cKOidAOxIZKbk4N4-wD2FG06SteehEMuqNS4ZeBKjTmZS4xaDDhk0a4pmUvxwjPWClIk8VvA/s320/DSCN2874.JPG" width="320" /></a>And they in turn came to know of their rights,learnt to think and reason with their lecturers, etc.from her.She had even arranged a trip to Kerala for them-all on her own.<br />
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Once I got to meet a lecturer by chance.He was surprised how so active a girl could remain humble and helpful too.This was the lecturer she was referring to, Meena",Nandini told me obviously relieved. <span style="font-size: x-small;"> A trip to Kerala </span> <br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-70232512646948507052015-10-22T03:29:00.000-07:002015-10-25T10:01:18.742-07:00Creating a Samacheer (uniform) Class for Children<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's been around four years now since the introduction of the Samacheer or uniform system of education for all children in Tamilnadu. And both students and teachers have found a way to crack even this system, generally speaking.<br />
Logically, it sounds right. Creating equal opportunities by giving all the children: rich and poor, city and slum area, equal education. Yet if we hold the lens close enough, we notice that there still are differences. Differences in background knowledge, scope and capacity. And perhaps we haven't really lifted the level of the village children. Perhaps we have only brought down the level of the city and town children.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihbxaLIrko7gqnPK4eq-bU2zlivcOxU6GhS01469GqR1sAISeULXFcymwiTSUjWS0oUYbIo-KNvHibdhobp05kP9cktcCp8jN9QgBpWBVnO9z4h4puIMMg0iOvOaURvyB8CiT7lIaigQ/s1600/school+children.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihbxaLIrko7gqnPK4eq-bU2zlivcOxU6GhS01469GqR1sAISeULXFcymwiTSUjWS0oUYbIo-KNvHibdhobp05kP9cktcCp8jN9QgBpWBVnO9z4h4puIMMg0iOvOaURvyB8CiT7lIaigQ/s1600/school+children.jpg" /></a></div>
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But of course just as a human cell takes at least 3-4 months to grow, perhaps a human brain must also be expected to take its time to show the benefit of growth. So perhaps like all team work, the 'slow and backward' so far might get a chance of being either uplifted or shoved up.That's as far as academics is concerned.<br />
But as for as the real problem, teachers still have to grind their teeth. The behaviour of the downtrodden children. Perhaps in the tough competition for their basic needs, man automatically turns into a beast,when it comes to survival of the fittest. Like we see 'decent' middle class people when their water pipes are broken or blocked and they have to depend on 'water trucks' or lorries.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zclbkTzJZvtCf0rcEj6ugt3udCOQlmfh_61aFV959rD7b9VfHl0D6z13yZCdb6ZVr3iYPxxccuvEffng3Cn8V2-CVuqFLTDCQHs1FmQ2z_9HrryNmQYywgic1tXnga7THi097Nxyvg/s1600/school+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zclbkTzJZvtCf0rcEj6ugt3udCOQlmfh_61aFV959rD7b9VfHl0D6z13yZCdb6ZVr3iYPxxccuvEffng3Cn8V2-CVuqFLTDCQHs1FmQ2z_9HrryNmQYywgic1tXnga7THi097Nxyvg/s1600/school+5.jpg" /></a>So it could be either the hunger in these children or anger. Physical hunger because his overworked mother doesn't have the strength or time, sometimes even money to provide for him. Naturally, hunger for attention also ensues. Anger that the parents/society/fate did not provide them their basic needs or spend enough time with them. The pity is that they are not even aware of their anger or hunger. So they don't know that they can try for a solution. Instead, they smile their sadist smile and vent their anger with fowl words. Words that a self respecting teacher would blush to hear. Or they mercilessly bully a weak child.<br />
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The media with its introduction of violence and sexually stimulating scenes and words hasn't helped at all. Socially, the stess on honour and values have been replaced by marks/grades with the idea that it'll convert to money some day. Neither do we find many children with a value based book in hand or sitting at the library.<br />
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At school,the teacher tries to correct the child with kindness, even love - and finds herself made a fool of. And practically, we can't expect most of the teachers to pursue after that. Sometimes the child has simply grown up with that kind of behaviour in that kind of class and imbibes it without thinking. ( the lower classes have to live in a particular place so that they may not cross over to or walk or even collect water from where the higher classes live,though stray pigs can do that). <br />
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If his father is a drunkard and hits his wife, a boy thinks that the 'man' thing to do would be to drink himself and look at girls without respect. Small, common rooms for parents and children make them observe their parents in their private moments and may stimulate him to try out his ability. Any different kind of advice makes him think that this person doesn't have the kind of experience he has.<br />
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<span style="text-align: left;">Where then lies the answer?Social workers and teachers have to exercise their wisdom, patience and prayers for these children till a common class of thinking and well behaved children arises.Will it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> Photos : free digital photos.net</span><br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-3822975675339476492015-10-13T10:22:00.000-07:002015-10-14T08:13:16.819-07:00High Above the Maddening Crowd<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjT7z4uavRuG2Ork4YiCmrqQhfftay3ONBdMKz1OaTT56KHwZOiAkFSp0jSfLFjxRzX71i_6lDUy7lPUEXCOcAxNGVGmraPKCa-yqj9nHCB7eRTA6IJcRHH2_0RWm3zmrDTh0pxXaxA/s1600/002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjT7z4uavRuG2Ork4YiCmrqQhfftay3ONBdMKz1OaTT56KHwZOiAkFSp0jSfLFjxRzX71i_6lDUy7lPUEXCOcAxNGVGmraPKCa-yqj9nHCB7eRTA6IJcRHH2_0RWm3zmrDTh0pxXaxA/s320/002.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"> THOUGH it may not come under any
‘Heritage’ or ‘wonder of the world’ title, Dindigul’s Balaji
Bhavan,Tamilnadu is surely a haven above the ground for any local resident or visitor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> We escaped from the crowded Bus Stand to
Balaji Bhavan one evening, went past the crowd already eating/waiting
for their parcels to be packed and took the lift to the roof top.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQs6l7x1RQZ3sQsOcH_B4ChD4Gvb-qYRAFsz5_o1W7XcW1kn_e_VpkmzU2TJCV3vZt12Nte6GykZvulhRwvWLvbPxW_AAXBwVEumyQaW4cAW2zJT5JFv4_PMPOa6yhnM3nz8UErfSmdA/s1600/2012-12-05+18.29.49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQs6l7x1RQZ3sQsOcH_B4ChD4Gvb-qYRAFsz5_o1W7XcW1kn_e_VpkmzU2TJCV3vZt12Nte6GykZvulhRwvWLvbPxW_AAXBwVEumyQaW4cAW2zJT5JFv4_PMPOa6yhnM3nz8UErfSmdA/s320/2012-12-05+18.29.49.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDSqVwM_qvUOuB1chK422voS42d6qK1F3vmgA1B7aCEnEHNJAqbobcVjNKgPYd_y_yCVPSxE2gp-XD2i0jJtBQT9Rt-8kMAU4fnrvgzEnAG6tvAEfzzjDVjpYMg61swfok1aAgBUEkQ/s1600/004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> It was my son’s birthday. And my
daughter wanted to celebrate it in style.
We stepped out into the cool fresh air and took a few steps ahead. We
were greeted by the sound of light romantic music. The dim lighting helped
relieve the tension off my eyes(I became aware of it only after entering there).I
was looking at the young bamboo shoots and
flowering plants and shrubs when we had to cross a small bridge. As I watched
my step I saw fish pass just below my feet as water flowed under the bridge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWEQhzvK_4luRRyJLsIK7sYsz8J4WQKTBcHHU_oxgCwRT_3rhFDp0CZbJmnQWh3j6jE4JsTOL9Oufnu2R6n0twtYPBPl8OBweYm5eINoqhrO_9DTLVcoMjZ7SqQU6In_bhX24vbgUjA/s1600/DSC_1124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWEQhzvK_4luRRyJLsIK7sYsz8J4WQKTBcHHU_oxgCwRT_3rhFDp0CZbJmnQWh3j6jE4JsTOL9Oufnu2R6n0twtYPBPl8OBweYm5eINoqhrO_9DTLVcoMjZ7SqQU6In_bhX24vbgUjA/s320/DSC_1124.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6r82GzGbVvK0pqg0OWt48bQ_l3Qd7sk1V6Vt8ipEq3WaeCiCp6pHiNRK0FDtSxZDTK16lWJi9HvaWfJE8EK-gjWTeUbMAPp_lQCQLWHMVRjIUZlNUMjW-75T_KDVciNvzpAJnJujfQ/s1600/2012-12-04+21.35.51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVWUSAxa0_BmAq3OjWb9oEu1qP2ToS83iQviY6BVwDa7amB9rxQcvYxh0Y99DDzuonUlE8i6pE-3f9psJouuAlSRA55l8xgJkb3duWY3IS7AEnxQHi266D-XCKm1c7QZmrtm4OpPgPqQ/s1600/006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVWUSAxa0_BmAq3OjWb9oEu1qP2ToS83iQviY6BVwDa7amB9rxQcvYxh0Y99DDzuonUlE8i6pE-3f9psJouuAlSRA55l8xgJkb3duWY3IS7AEnxQHi266D-XCKm1c7QZmrtm4OpPgPqQ/s320/006.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Four
or five young couples with small children were already seated around small
tables. A smiling waiter took us to an
empty table towards the inside. Water jugs and small sauce pots were already
placed on the table. Table mats of chart paper with quiz and puzzles for
children were laid on the empty table. As we were relishing all these, the
waiter served us the menu card. We asked for both mushroom soup as well as the
usual tomato soup. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">Strangely though, the mushroom soup was not as good as the
tomato soup. As we were ordering these, another waiter served the neighbouring
table with something that was burning and smoking but in a raw cabbage leaf. I held my daughter’s
arm and pointed to the dish but my daughter whispered that it was a sizzler and
that was the way it should be served. By the time we finished our soup, curiosity
overtook my fear and I wanted a sizzler too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%; text-align: left;"> The children ordered spring
rolls(tortillas), naan,( something like a big bun) and rumalli roti as the
main dishes.These were mostly made of maida(white flour), which had no nutritional value. But on seeing the children’s faces and comforting
myself that it was only once a year, I kept quiet. The mushroom gravy topped
with cottage cheese and cauliflower curry with mayonnaise were sumptous and appetizing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> We felt full but what is a celebration
without a dessert? Each of us</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6r82GzGbVvK0pqg0OWt48bQ_l3Qd7sk1V6Vt8ipEq3WaeCiCp6pHiNRK0FDtSxZDTK16lWJi9HvaWfJE8EK-gjWTeUbMAPp_lQCQLWHMVRjIUZlNUMjW-75T_KDVciNvzpAJnJujfQ/s1600/2012-12-04+21.35.51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6r82GzGbVvK0pqg0OWt48bQ_l3Qd7sk1V6Vt8ipEq3WaeCiCp6pHiNRK0FDtSxZDTK16lWJi9HvaWfJE8EK-gjWTeUbMAPp_lQCQLWHMVRjIUZlNUMjW-75T_KDVciNvzpAJnJujfQ/s320/2012-12-04+21.35.51.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">had a milk shake of a different </span><span style="font-size: large;">flavour with a generous
topping of icecream. All these came within a surprising low bill. And to
re-live the sweet memories we sure took a lot of photos in the funniest of
poses you could think of!</span></div>
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-88943212356252507732015-10-05T09:34:00.000-07:002015-10-12T10:20:15.465-07:00A Lady's Sense of Justice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTSXp6gP6HA09kyvHMNzJwXGw8e_O6ZgBpZNffiwvDB1frlfvhfsrz2WPKPpzLoV8Va3ginkhAdBUZpKPGRnzaMzx3c5_4Mik7Y656E-8NgHS-RHxu8-cmO5cKqFhrzzcRiE2zacIkg/s1600/granny+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTSXp6gP6HA09kyvHMNzJwXGw8e_O6ZgBpZNffiwvDB1frlfvhfsrz2WPKPpzLoV8Va3ginkhAdBUZpKPGRnzaMzx3c5_4Mik7Y656E-8NgHS-RHxu8-cmO5cKqFhrzzcRiE2zacIkg/s200/granny+4.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">free digital photos.net</span></div>
I had heard so much about her that I was waiting for the day I could see her in person. Plump and caring but authoritative with the final word and an innate sense of justice.<br />
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She entered the reserved compartment and walking straight towards a seat that seemed empty, she sat down. It was actually a two seater but a thin couple occupied only half the space provided.The man reminded her that it was a reserved compartment but she replied that she was harming no one.<br />
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Her husband had served in the railways for many years and died 'in harness'. The job was given to her son. She was called to help with her daughter's second delivery and while there,she had yet another call from a relative who was having serious health problems. Wasn't it her duty to go there immediately and help? Should she be delayed searching for Identity proofs and the lot?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxgchJJTKjpULqRsZBBX-a4bxj9X4Qbg5ue0IiW80ZWwdYluO7L2jE1E2SOlVJVOPwqxcYr_i2_IU01i6pKSZUv8Qhar63ahTdK6NyRqo_MwUHJy6mtBynGBRKdRlkEkvW9bWiw5jvw/s1600/granny+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxgchJJTKjpULqRsZBBX-a4bxj9X4Qbg5ue0IiW80ZWwdYluO7L2jE1E2SOlVJVOPwqxcYr_i2_IU01i6pKSZUv8Qhar63ahTdK6NyRqo_MwUHJy6mtBynGBRKdRlkEkvW9bWiw5jvw/s200/granny+1.jpg" width="200" /></a>Vendors selling fresh murukkus (a crisp rice snack) passed by. She called them and bought a good lot of murukkus. The relative had children, you know. Presently she took out the day's newspaper and offered a sheet to each of the passengers to read.In half an hour the men began talking politics. The lady too joined in. Right from the politics of her local area to State politics to National politics, she was well informed and well opinionated about everything. <span style="font-size: xx-small; text-align: center;">free digital photos.net</span><br />
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She could look above the cracks and loopholes of the abiding law that so many took unfair advantage of. She reminded me of the old time grannies who managed joint families with their intuitive love and wisdom. An explanation of the Tamilian custom of worshiping women goddesses.<br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-45856092723529371312015-09-28T07:37:00.002-07:002015-10-04T06:11:21.145-07:00Growth of a kind<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
If I could<br />
Unwind the hands<br />
Of time<br />
I would<br />
Take back the word<br />
That caused the hurt<br />
In your eyes.<br />
The deed<br />
That was a step away from you<br />
And led to others.<br />
It seemed right<br />
At the time<br />
Yet with the<br />
Passing of years<br />
And the lasting<br />
Tears<br />
I understand<br />
That the unity<br />
Of minds<br />
Is worth<br />
More than being right.<br />
<br />
I could also use<br />
The experience of today<br />
To diffuse<br />
The hurt I bore<br />
Unnecessarily<br />
Some put- me - downs<br />
By different clowns<br />
To which I couldn't<br />
React, recover<br />
Only the sting hovered.<br />
<br />
Some decisions<br />
If revised<br />
Could help<br />
Both sides<br />
Compromise<br />
But experience is growth<br />
Of a kind<br />
To be passed on<br />
To generations<br />
By word<br />
Or letter<br />
Or message<br />
To those<br />
Who ask or<br />
would listen.<br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-13041313222044414372015-08-29T07:23:00.000-07:002015-08-29T07:25:00.655-07:00A treadmill to heaven<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Questions, questions,<br />
questions<br />
so many of them<br />
pop up in my heart,<br />
my soul.<br />
Like the rings of sliced onion<br />
that fall off<br />
from the core<br />
Unanswered,'un-understandable,'<br />
Perhaps almost unacceptable:<br />
Of unbalanced suffering<br />
Suffering long and continuing<br />
To the next generations<br />
<br />
Some suspect a curse<br />
If so, I wish those involved<br />
Right their wrongs<br />
Or search for remedies,<br />
For wisdom<br />
To tilt the see-saw<br />
Of favour<br />
To their side.<br />
<br />
Till then<br />
I will perhaps<br />
Find myself<br />
On a treadmill<br />
That keeps me<br />
From proceeding,<br />
Or progressing<br />
With the confidence<br />
That once was<br />
And should have been mine.<br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-34190524070232267702015-08-22T09:30:00.000-07:002015-10-04T09:36:28.180-07:00Understanding children instincts through our pets...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Hi Terry, How's life?" I ask my pet dog. He looks at me without raising his head. And without even wagging his tail. Nice snub, I think and walk away.<br />
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"You can't blame him. You didn't bother about him when he was alone (in another yard owned by us) all those years and he had nobody to comfort him while he guarded the shed in the yard," my daughter was quick to speak up for him. That was the truth,I had to admit to myself. He used to yell painfully when any of us passed that way. But we went there only for some specific job and always had to hurry for one reason or the other. Moreover with workers moving about in a hurry it just wasn't the place for relaxing with a dog. </div>
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For my daughter it was different. She did bother to stop and spend some time with him even though he usually ended their meeting with loud cries as if to say, 'No, don't go away. Stay with me! Talk with me. Play with me!!</div>
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Then the shed changed hands and Terry was brought to live with us. Now I get the chance to serve him his dinner everyday. He can't escape me now, I think. Dinner and bones for him is in my hands.</div>
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"Here Terry, Come and eat."I call out to him. He smells his food and walks away. Showing no other reaction. </div>
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Meanwhile he follows my daughter like a slave , sits by her feet in a 'At your service, Master' posture and looks at her with eyes of pure admiration.<br />
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Along comes '<b>bath time'</b> and I am commissioned to do the job. I am afraid to touch him. I begin by telling him what a gem he is and I knew it all along and how happy I'm to have a good boy. Every breath of fear brings out a shrill <i>'good boy' </i>from me like the Kabbadi players. He had seen me wash his kennel too. So I wait in expectation of a sign of forgiveness from him. I see a smile, a wave of his tail. A neighbour passing by asks me if he just had a bath and only then I realize that it must have been a noisy bath. <br />
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Then comes my nephew out of the blue and after getting introduced to Terry arranges for his freedom : takes him for walks, runs and games. Terry then scarcely notices my daughter and rushes past her to his new hero, licks his lips looking at him and sits at his feet, awaiting his command. All this from a breed known for its faithfulness? I wonder.</div>
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As a parent and teacher I got thinking,'Do we see a similar behavior pattern in children too? Children giving preference to trust and freedom first of all, then kind words and last of all to their basic needs being met.Specially<br />
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to children /animals who didn't have to struggle with their basic needs being met.<br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-26113154979369266662015-08-16T10:07:00.000-07:002015-08-17T06:52:00.488-07:00 English songs that filled me with great expectations<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGGF7odLjJVc-2VhRBBEkuIRTojZnSxUPXeuQgYBQsn6WwuI-yKX-vQt9S0zo-AXSO7byh7mjSIM9Z5ksKBpbFcigekmcNzRIu7hPEjXk1616vOIsBsyYJc6RGGympVZEup3wXfJmJA/s1600/jim+reeves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGGF7odLjJVc-2VhRBBEkuIRTojZnSxUPXeuQgYBQsn6WwuI-yKX-vQt9S0zo-AXSO7byh7mjSIM9Z5ksKBpbFcigekmcNzRIu7hPEjXk1616vOIsBsyYJc6RGGympVZEup3wXfJmJA/s200/jim+reeves.jpg" width="200" /></a>What a pleasure it was to be introduced to the voice of Jim Reeves ! Even if he just talked it sounded like music. His song '<b>I love you because you understand me'</b> somehow gave me the confidence that the one I take my vows with would surely 'make my heart feel lighter every step we walked side by side'. I would have loved to meet him sometime but poor Jim is said to have died the year I was born.<br />
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Another favourite song played often by Radio Ceylon was, <b>'Chiquitita'</b>(by Abba), a girl comforted by her friend that she was one she could rely on and that she should 'smile once more like she did before and sing a new song'. The background music makes it sound like its rolling and then jumping down the steps, one by one until it joins a wave and rolls back.<br />
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Of course <b>'Do. Re. M</b>e.. was something we almost grew up on and then <b>'My favourite things</b>' was everyone's Birthday Party favourite. By the time '<b>Country Roads, take me Home' </b>was in vogue in my area, we joined hostels and had started counting the days when we could go home.<br />
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One Sunday morning our roomates were in the mood and dressed my beautiful friend and me in Saris just before we could start out. As it was our first experience with Saris, we stepped out gingerly. On our way back we had to get down a steep hill.Carefully we took each step. Suddenly a whirlwind passed just below us and a human figure moved from bush to bush saying, "You drape yourselves in curtains and think that you are top in style but the world is laughing at you".<br />
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Fear turned to curiosity. <i>It was the voice of JIM REEVES</i>. I wanted to go back and have a look at his face. But my friend grabbed me and pulled me back. "Are you mad?" she asked. He'll lift you up and throw you down the hill. And in this place can't say if we'll be able to get the body, even".<br />
Looked like he was in long hair, long beard and rags. "But beggars and mad people don't speak in English, even in Ooty," I said. "Did you notice his voice, his accents?"<br />
"He was brilliant and a great orator," she explained(she was from this place). But suddenly he lost his mind".<br />
"Why didn't his parents take and treat him?"I asked, wondering how whoever educated him this well so far could suddenly leave him.<br />
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Just as we were finishing College, a young girl, 'Angel' (and who sang like an angel too) died suddenly in an accident. The last song she sang on stage was that<b>'In the street, by and by we will</b> <b>meet on that beautiful shore'.</b> Was it a co-incidence? Just like Gentleman Jim who flew away after he last sang, <b>'I'll fly away</b>'.Perhaps God too likes these angels to sing to him....<br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-72860080547018248052015-08-07T23:43:00.000-07:002015-08-10T10:46:48.998-07:003 Mysterious Melodies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I had a liking for these three songs before realising that they had something in common.</div>
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Naane Varuvane.........</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1LkaepDfQtxSkWhzRnHL6DoLzZ7oGEuhM-6lRch0N39aYO24S-xcsYFDXStPlA7hs9b1rLMCx5MsUX-2C8YEnvnEG7bnsK_5ghvbnYMNTqYhDTWeQH998FlSf8XYQy_SBjcH-3b7zQ/s1600/mail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1LkaepDfQtxSkWhzRnHL6DoLzZ7oGEuhM-6lRch0N39aYO24S-xcsYFDXStPlA7hs9b1rLMCx5MsUX-2C8YEnvnEG7bnsK_5ghvbnYMNTqYhDTWeQH998FlSf8XYQy_SBjcH-3b7zQ/s200/mail.jpg" width="200" /> .......</a></div>
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Oh........Ne Illame Naana<br />
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Nadhi Poghum<br />
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'Naane Varuvane - ingum angum' meaning, 'I will surely come - whether here or there',sang the car radio, welcoming us as we climbed the Nilgiri hills with the intent of settling down there.It was in the the tune of the Hindi song 'Naina bharasae, Rim jim rim jim'.<br />
But I was too young then to guess that one was the remake of the other. Apart from being melodious, the three part setting in the movie heightens the mystery - the mystery of a lady's voice following (or awaiting) him at different places.There's something of a longing there. A timely gap in between enhances the song.<br />
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In the early '80s the song"Oh............Ne illame naana?" Oh..............Me without you?" had me hooked alright (although I had not seen the movie and did not know the story). I mentioned my interest in this song casually to my roomies and that was it.They'd call me from wherever I was whenever the song was broadcast.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfouDG5nGzz6OZ_x5rp5hXSmQ4PowaTxrLgAvUt0UCuYFk32k_Iv9Z2vjg5tzUNJCBcomJfmCpBwn1iB84WvJQN5g70Px0jLMwI7Vj3Imlm8lTzheWNXxnAr-QxgbfeJbkM7VQhsxxA/s1600/ghost+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfouDG5nGzz6OZ_x5rp5hXSmQ4PowaTxrLgAvUt0UCuYFk32k_Iv9Z2vjg5tzUNJCBcomJfmCpBwn1iB84WvJQN5g70Px0jLMwI7Vj3Imlm8lTzheWNXxnAr-QxgbfeJbkM7VQhsxxA/s200/ghost+2.jpg" width="200" /></a>Very recently I found myself running to peep at the screen whenever the familiar tune of a violin was being played. A child's clear cut voice catches one's attention. A child made to beg to support some blind elders.Makes you want to get up and free the child. And of course the blind ...Only then I realised that this was the third <i><b>ghost song</b></i> that was haunting me. From the film, 'Pisasu'.<br />
(Though the child has nothing to do with any ghost).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6H9GihVsjEdnjoojIqWDbPUPV62SxajAnYDChyphenhyphenLvp_fNMjQap4nn9rPue6Q_nTszX4rzRTwrKj2V1Tl7Q0MkBEZiJDD7tBEucHUmDE1-nK4_ZeMA_ern9-TAilBaIG1MDS_TQwg40w/s1600/ghost+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6H9GihVsjEdnjoojIqWDbPUPV62SxajAnYDChyphenhyphenLvp_fNMjQap4nn9rPue6Q_nTszX4rzRTwrKj2V1Tl7Q0MkBEZiJDD7tBEucHUmDE1-nK4_ZeMA_ern9-TAilBaIG1MDS_TQwg40w/s200/ghost+1.jpg" width="200" /></a>When I had later got to see the 'Me without you ' song's video from the movie 'Aairam Nillavae Vaa' it was replete with the baying of dogs, doors opening on their own, some birds hooting - and not to forget that gap in between. The ghost singing this song on missing his living lover. <br />
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Please don't get me wrong. Thousands and thousands of wonderful songs- the feet tapping and body swaying ones have come and gone after these songs. I'm only talking about mystery added to romance : something like Pearl Buck or Daphne Du Maurier's type which give you an uneasy thrill( I may have left out many such type too because I'm not a regular follower of songs either). Just thought of sharing some of my likes.<br />
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P.S - Since these three songs are in my language, I wonder if I have explained myself clearly enough. The first movie finally ends solving the mystery. While one girl was really interested in this man, some other group who had conspired to drive him out set her twin sister in mysterious places so that he gets the impression of seeing the same girl at two places at the same time.(The second girl doesn't talk to him. Just passes by singing a song, dressed in white).</div>
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I liked all these songs before knowing that they were from 'ghost' movies.</div>
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67024742042905596.post-53883494047895892272015-07-15T07:44:00.000-07:002015-07-15T07:44:27.836-07:00A Regular Sight Which Can Be Avoided<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Two black cows<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3A-3pQPLK3Xnw2VogzAIXbwgLFUkoP6-mWbh7pcVZtu1kc59hL3sc_2iTI9djYcbw0fOIY1UIml5s9zam8tGVqddBBEqlIUN7ZON6X3Sl9Wldlom4mhaIYjOjGEsag00254x8O9YYvg/s1600/cow-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3A-3pQPLK3Xnw2VogzAIXbwgLFUkoP6-mWbh7pcVZtu1kc59hL3sc_2iTI9djYcbw0fOIY1UIml5s9zam8tGVqddBBEqlIUN7ZON6X3Sl9Wldlom4mhaIYjOjGEsag00254x8O9YYvg/s320/cow-2.jpg" width="320" /></a>Majestic, well built<br />
On their way home<br />
From grazing<br />
Unaccompanied<br />
Stop by the wayside.<br />
<br />
One stops by a dustbin<br />
And peeps in<br />
Sees a plastic bag<br />
And pulls it out.<br />
Shakes it<br />
To get the contents out<br />
When unsuccessful<br />
Bites it whole<br />
Plastic and all.<br />
<br />
The other cow<br />
Wades into slush<br />
Sees a plastic bag<br />
And pulls it out<br />
Shakes it...<br />
<br />
Two beautiful cows<br />
Majestic, well built<br />
Bear the consequences<br />
Of man's carelessness<br />
We save the aged bulls<br />
By law<br />
Yet sacrifice healthy cows<br />
And other animals<br />
Across the land<br />
And water<br />
<br />
To die of aches<br />
And fits of pain<br />
No plan<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5ZdtIv7Qxk40paNcxhBRClmvpKAl-GwVnFBaOwpbjf1piMbnhXQB-CwSFrOMLBHH26VlaT2M7_y9KMweCzpBNIPpFiF0An7pDsanOGFjUQyxWiMj8h94x8VqP1eSXrvMCNa16Uol3w/s1600/pup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5ZdtIv7Qxk40paNcxhBRClmvpKAl-GwVnFBaOwpbjf1piMbnhXQB-CwSFrOMLBHH26VlaT2M7_y9KMweCzpBNIPpFiF0An7pDsanOGFjUQyxWiMj8h94x8VqP1eSXrvMCNa16Uol3w/s1600/pup.jpg" /></a>To ban<br />
Use of plastics<br />
While the gods<br />
Of milk<br />
And love (pets)<br />
Succumb silently.<br />
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Wini B Solomonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960051614270279820noreply@blogger.com0