Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Just this

Indian women have changed, their outlook, their dressing sense...We have become more global. But at times you see yourself clinging to your own identity..When I was a little girl, growing up means was having long hair, wearing sarees,bindi, bangles, anklets etc..but it has changed completely. Today, girls (including me) hardly wears saree  especially bindi which was once an identity of Indian women. 

Oh..I scribbled just like that...I love this song, I should say, the way she has dressed up. In this song, she is a naagin(snake). The first scene shows her transformation from a human form to a snake. Nothing scary but beautiful and enchanting. I love such fantasies. That's why I love this song

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Moral Policing

I am a teacher by profession. To be very precise, Communicative English teacher.I never wanted to be one but always ended up being one but never dressed like a teacher( the stereotypical figure with a saree and intelligent look). Yesterday, one of my student told straight away on my face that " You should be careful with your dress". I was shocked. 

Why?.... Because I was wearing a Kurta, which almost reached my knees , of course with a long sleeve and definitely with a jeans.I was properly covered from head to toe and why was he bothered about me. I should have asked him to mind his own business and should have resumed my class.But I took the wrong option, started bluffing. I told him "My parents liked them, usually they do all the shopping etc., etc...

He was sitting in a corner and I was crossing my legs and he said while I crossed my legs and also when I lifted my hands, something was not proper , may be he was hinting at the slits of my Kurta. I heard it ..I mean I bore it...Why?..May be, I was not expecting a sudden attack of that sort from my student who always looked innocent to me( though he is 25 years old). Why did he say such a thing. I am not being blind to the fact that there are people all around who loved moral policing.

But still....

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Thanks buddies

I enjoy blogging...
It has never been like this before...
Once I laughed at my friend's confession of being a blog addict...
But now I am one, though a toddler...

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

My Love - BOOKS



I started reading books when I was about sixteen years of age. I was from a family where nobody ever read any books and I loved books. Books were always a taboo. I even did not read a single comic book. Unlike my school, my college offered me a world of books. I never bunked college and was always in the library. I started off with Enid Blyton series, and then moving on to Nancy Drew series. I was wonder struck when I got to know about the little adventures they had. I never had an adventurous childhood. It was just school and home and story books offered me a lot which I could not have imagined even in my wildest dreams.

The reading took a new twist when one of my senior offered Ken Follett’s Third Twin. I met characters who never thought and acted like me. But I was fascinated by them. I also started reading Sydney Shelden, Danielle Steele, Jeffrey Archer, biographies, autobiographies and lots of other books. After much convincing, I made my dad to get me a membership in a library nearby. But things could not continue as such.

My tastes started changing. I thought it was changing and started to read those books which hardly catered to me (I wanted to read serious books). In the meantime I read a lot of books and found my passion for reading slowly eroding. I was terribly upset. But blogging helped me a lot. I didn't write any posts but  read  blogs and was relieved to find that my passion was still there, only I made the wrong choice.

Here I am, again reading books that I really like...

Monday, December 6, 2010

Mother Earth

This is the enchanting snow capped Himalayas, the true personification of divinity. It is regarded as the abode of Lord Shiva. The view is absolutely mesmerising. 

This is Mother Nature. 

Her lullaby is soothing. But there are times when her lullabies turns to screams when she is inflicted with injuries by her own children. She has started eroding. Let's prevent it and transfer her grace to the posterity.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Trivandrum City

The place where I am staying now is not my city- Trivandrum. I came here not with many dreams. But this city taught me how to dream; how to aspire for it; how to take new challenges in life. It made me dream about the nook and cranny of the world. Sometimes, I do take a long walk along the streets. But in the daytime, it is not as charming, but the night offers a delight that makes me wanting to go again and again. I knew my native place  (Thrissur) is more beautiful than this city and I really do not understand why I am not too keen on my city. 

I once asked one of my friend about this and he said " We got something on August 15th, 1947, that's why you are y feeling so." Yes, he is absolutely right. Independence-I cherish it the most. I am not a hard core adventurous person and I am comfortable in the city only till nine o' clock. Here we do not have a busy night life. You cannot see any woman loitering in the city after nine o' clock. It would be of course different if I were in any other part of the world. The independence I am talking about is having my own space where I could enjoy my small pleasures.

I love to walk in the rain; wander alone in the bright lit  city ( though I have got somebody special in my life );eat from ' Pathayam' where you get only natural and organic food and also the delicious gooseberry soaked in honey; pray in the ' Perpetual Chapel' near by;  explore the nearest library; worship in the temple near by where the deity is Lord Krishna and much more.

It looks too simple, but not as simple as that coz we all are too cocooned in the hard and fast rules of a conventional and hypocritical society. Breaking those fetters is a herculean task. Let's see how far I can go to be just myself.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Talaq (divorce) on cellphone valid

This post is based on a news that is published in a leading newspaper in India. The headlines goes like this " Talaq on cellphone is valid, says Deoband.

I really do not know what to make out of this news. It says if the husband utters 'talaq' thrice on a mobile phone will be considered valid, even if the wife on the other end does not hear it due to network or any other sort of problems. The news also talk about a man who is working abroad typed talaq playfully to his wife. In his query he said he really does not know how the talaq is executed.

Do you really want to know what happened next?

The Darul Ifta( the office of Islamic jurisprudence /)in its reply said if the talaq is uttered thrice it will amount to divorce. Hence as per the ruling, the wife is required to complete the iddat (3 months) period and if she wants to be with her husband, she is supposed to marry someone else and divorce him and again observe the iddat period. If she does all these, she can marry her former husband.

Is this a joke. No ! It is a truth that happened.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

I like black

I thought I would take a detour for a while.Life should not be grave always. Hence I thought I would post a song. This song talks about the deep hidden beauty of the colour 'BLACK'. The language is Tamil and it is not my mother tongue. Tamil is the language of Tamil Nadu, which is our (Kerala) neighbouring state. The people of  India do have the tendency to look down upon people who are not fair complexioned.

This song has a rhythm and it is the pulse of us South Indians..

Friday, October 29, 2010

Food for thought

This is something that I came across as a sheer coincidence and every such coincidences offered a lot of things to ruminate. A news  was published in an online paper almost one year ago and it was likethis.

Eight year old Saudi girl divorces her 5o year old husband - definitely a food for thought. 

Her mother applied for a divorce twice and was rejected .One judge ruled out the divorce citing that she could apply for it only when she reaches her puberty. The girl was coerced into marriage by her father for 50,000 Saudi riyals (around $13, 300). The divorce happened months after hearing and also by the uproar created by International media and the human rights associations.

A big curse on those people whose thoughts are marred beyond recognition. I could not understand that state of mind that really wanted to get married to a girl child who hasn't attained her puberty. When someone makes a furore about it, they come up with their bogus excuses. A bud can blossom, only when it is allowed to grow.



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Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Freedom of Expression

I have a few questions for all you bloggers.

Should creative artists always be given the freedom to express their own ideas? Should government impose any restrictions on their ideas?
I thought about it a lot and this is what I have come up with and I also expect your valuable comments on this.

“Freedom of expression “is the most significant factor in creativity. If we put the creative artists in a pigeonhole and ask them to respond accordingly,will result in the ineffectiveness of their work. But what about today's chaotic, intricate and confused scenario?

Could granting the above mentioned liberty can pose severe problems. As the world is moving towards ruthlessness and where religion has started to have its absolute sway, whatever the creative artist produces will have its own repercussions. We have seen many instances where books, films, music, paintings falling into the trashes of controversies.

This reminds me of the controversy, M.F. Hussain had to encounter. He created nude paintings of hindu deities and mother India, hence is being deplored as an anti- hindu. He had come under fatal attacks from hindu fundamentalists and some of them went to the extent of vandalizing his paintings. He has been living in London and Dubai since then and now Qatar has come forward to grand him its citizenship. He is 95 year old who has a scant opportunity to return to his motherland, India.

Salman Rushdie's is yet another example. Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the spiritual leader of Iran issued a fatwa against him for his most controversial Satanic Verses. He called the book a blasphemy against Islam. Hence asked for his execution. It was only after the death of Ayattollah Ruhollah Khomeini, Rushdie could come out of his hiding and also from the police protection.

Taslima Nazreen's Lajja was banned. It describes the aftermath of Babri Masjid demolition in Bangladesh, which is the neighbouring country of India where the incident took place( theme was the persecution of a hindu family by muslims).She rose to fame due to her feminist views and criticisms of Islam. She always wrote about female oppression for which she always came under severe attack. She had to flee from her country, Bangladesh and was forced to live in many countries. For quite a while, she got asylum in Kolkata, India which she had to renounce due to the attack from Islamic fundamentalists. Currently, she is residing at Sweden.


Music also could not evade any criticism. Films are also not an exemption. These are just a few instances to show the acceptance of people as they are by people.

It is the creative artist who can give a new face to think. Curbing their freedom would be like shackling them. But what if the same efforts create a hubbub and disrupt the equilibrium in the society? A little discrepancy can wreak havoc.
So I always wonder what is needed to have an unbiased outlook.


I expect your valuable comments.



Tuesday, October 19, 2010

This is life. Don't be blind to it

I came across this video accidentally and I cursed myself for being too self indulgent. I am from a country (India) ,where you can see wealth and poverty together. Sometimes this utter poverty strikes straight on your face. Since we are self indulgent we always shove the truth into the back burner. But how long can we be blind to the harsh realities of life. How can we wake up our humanity from its slumber ? 

" Humanity" is what today the world needs. It is shocking to learn that there exists a lot of people all around the world who is struggling to have a square meal. As an ordinary citizen of the world, I can only make an attempt to share this horrendous plight all around the globe.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

 

This picture shocked the entire world. Aiysha was just 12 when she was married off to a Taliban fighter.  She was subjected to many atrocities. She was made to sleep in a stable with animals. She was caught while she was trying to escape the clutches of her husband. The punishment meted out for her mistake was horrendous. Her nose and ears was sliced off mercilessly and she was left to bleed and die in the mountains. But she was fortunate to live and when she gathered her consciousness she somehow managed to reach her grandfather’s house from where she was taken to an American military hospital. She also received an Enduring Heart Award for enduring  the worst ordeal of her life.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

When she met him

They were together for quite a long time, almost four years.She met him when she was not expecting a man in her life.She met him when she was not in a mood to love anybody. She met him when she lost her faith in love. If sheever wanted a man he was definitely not the type. Still she met him.

 He was very young when she met him. He always said it was love at first sight for him but not for her. But she did like him.They met for the first time when he came to meet his sister who was herroommate.He straight away told her that he would like to marry her which put her in utter disbelief.She wanted him to wait as she was unsure about her. He agreed.

They met every Sundays. They painted the town red, went for movies, tasted different cuisines and had lots of fun. For him, she was a best friend and the girl he truly loved but for her it was just a pastime. She never had any friends but him. If she ever wanted something she would wait for him. She stopped doing anything by herself. She was the boss and he was the sub ordinate but he never complained.

He was calm for he had her unlike her who was always frustrated for not having anything she always wanted. Fights and quarrels started creeping up amidst them. But he was always forgiving. She never let slip off any opportunity that came on her way to insult him. He was collected. Though he lost his temper twice or thrice he would always make up because she was the only one he had.

One day when she met him she could not meet his eyes. When he touched her something changed in her. She could not be with him for long hours. She was uncomfortable. She felt as if she was seeing him for the first time. He was worried. He could not think of losing her and she could not give him an answer. She knew she liked him. He had become a habit that she could not do away with at any point of her life.

She thought and thought and one day she got the answer, both for him and her.
It was a chilly night. There was heavy downpour outside and she could not sleep. She snuggled and was searching for something in the bed and all of a sudden, as a reflex she called him and said “I want to marry you”


Sunday, September 26, 2010

Sitha Devy

Her image kept recurring in my mind...her eyes never drained...all alone...never complaining...taking life in its stride. She had everything, but possessed nothing.

She was Sitha Devi.

Sitha Devy was a mythological character who became a deep rooted concept in the minds of Indian women. She was hailed as the epitome of chastity. She was the wife of Lord Rama and their story was' Ramayana'. ...I was not going to write that story in detail. I was concerned only about her feelings, the  feelings she had when she was asked by her husband to prove her  chastity.

 Her conflicting mind


Sitha shuddered at her husband's decision. She had to scream again from the rooftop that she had committed nothing wrong She saw thousands of inquisitive eyes interrogating her.She could bear it and it alluded her concern.But when her eyes met her sons' gaze she could not take it. She looked again and was relieved to see that their gaze did not spurt any suspicions. It told nothing, but offered solace. With reverence, she looked at her husband Ram, who always loved her. She knew that neither Ram nor his subjects nurtured any suspicions about her. She could not understand the logic behind her husband's decision. He told her that as a husband he believed her, but as a King it was his responsibility to show his subjects that their queen was innocent and nothing went wrong between her and Ravana, while she was abducted.


She wondered how Ram could make such a discretion between a King and a husband. Sitha felt as if she was going to faint. Her vision blurred. She could not see anything. When she opened her eyes, she found her lonely. Neither her husband nor her sons were there. She listened to the calmness and loneliness that enveloped her. She could hear water flowing in the nearby brook.The breeze touched her lips... The birds chirped... The leaves danced... It soothed her mind for a while. 


Everything ceased all of a sudden.The brook stopped its course...the birds went silent...the breeze detoured...the leaves went still...Her surrounding became too silent that she could hear her heart pounding. She could hear a voice calling her name. She looked around, but saw nobody. Her gaze followed the infinity. She wanted to drink the water from River Lethe to quell all memories haunting her. She was awakened from her deep thoughts when she heard her name again. She turned around to find someone standing beside her. Who was it?

 Her self

Sitha was bewildered to find a woman standing a few yards away from her." Who are you", Sitha asked. The woman came closer. Sitha was mystified to see her replica. The woman said "Do not ask me who I am, but ask yourself, you will get the answer. I am your self, Sitha. Do not be frightened of me. You always escaped me."

Sitha was stuck to the root. " What do you mean that I always escaped you." 

"You never listened to your heart. You always glossed over your feelings. You lived with your sincerity, but failed miserably to live with your heart. You lived as a good daughter, wife, mother and a queen, but not as a woman you truly are. You always yielded to your circumstances. But it's time to wake up from the deep slumber and face the life as the woman you are"

Sitha was perplexed and said  " I do not understand."


" Close your eyes and remember the war that was waged for you", the woman said.

Sitha closed her eyes. " What do you see now?, the woman asked.


Sitha could hear the battling swords, the neigh of the panicked horses, arrows being hurled in the air.


Sitha answered " I could see...I could see..."


The woman continued " Fix your eyes on the battle and tell me the face that you see.


Perplexed Sitha opened her eyes quickly for the image of Ravana struck her first.


Sitha murmured " Ravana...Ravana..." 


The woman went on " This is Ravana, who abducted you, because he loved you. He abducted you to make you his queen. He abducted you for he could not live without you. Ravana did not last without you. He died for you. He ruined his kingdom for you. This is the same Ravana who pledged not to touch you, until he gain your consent. He could have given you back to  Ram to save himself and his empire. But he chose death, just  for you Sitha."


Tears welled in Sitha's eyes. She was keenly listening to her self. Sitha thought " Ram forsaken me to do his duty as a King. I was abandoned mercilessly in the forest. I was pregnant then. It wasn't enough to melt the King's heart. I was a queen, but lived with my children in the forest. Ram never had any suspicions about my fidelity. He knew it, but kept mum. He could have told the whole world of my loyalty, but preferred to remain quiet. Why? Is this the law and justice of the King.Why he chose to remain quiet. The subjects of Ayodhya believed their King, yet he never told them that his wife bore no stigma. Did he really love me?. I was a good mother and wife. But was he a good husband?.  Why Ram? You could have saved me from the humiliation. You did not do it. You once asked for this sacrifice, I gave it but not again. Sitha would never go through this humiliation again. This will be the end of it".

Sitha opened her eyes. She was standing in the court of King Rama with whole Ayodhya watching. She looked in the eyes of Rama. She is Sitha, not ready to take any more humiliation. She looked above and prayed to her mother Earth to take her away from this entanglement and make her free. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she prayed and prayed until the earth split and there rose here mother seated in a throne.


Sitha said " Mother, take me away and make me free and let the mother earth not bear any humiliation committed against woman".


Mother earth stretched her hands, took her daughter in an embrace. They vanished into thin air.


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Friday, September 24, 2010

The unfading memories

Sandra did not realize how far she had gone. She was panting and the road looked as if it would not end. She missed her bus. She should have taken an auto to get to the office. But she chose to walk and reached late. Everything happened as she expected. MD yelled at her for not turning up on time and marked half day leave for being late by twenty minutes.

She took her seat and the files that piled upon her table seemed like a hill, not easy to climb and she had no intention of climbing it either. She just sat still. She was finding it difficult to hold her mind. When Sanam, her collegue asked why was she too late, Sandra blinked her eyes and said “I missed the bus".

She checked her mails and found one from her mother and the other from her long lost friend. She knew the content of the first letter without even opening it. Esha, her long time and now lost friend was inquiring about her whereabouts. Esha could not attend her marriage as she had flown to San Fransisco with her husband. Memories started gnawing her. She did not feel like working and had no intention of asking her boss to give her the leave, but was relieved to find that he would leave soon as he had a meeting.

Sandra left office by half past one. As she did not want to go home soon, she decided to take a stroll along the beach. The breeze and the azure water calmed her for a while.

"Oh no! John, you are spoiling my gown". Sandra yelled.

“Come on Sandra...." John went on splashing water on her.

"That was our wedding day", Sandra thought.

John loved beaches. It was his plan to go to the beach after we got married. It was a wild plan, but a good one. I have never seen John so happy. My gown drenched, but I did not mind. I was so happy to be with him.

It has been six years...

Sandra was feeling tired, when she got home. She cuddled herself in the bed and in no time, she was fast asleep.

 She could see the deep abyss, could feel the freezing chill piercing her body. The water was not placid. It was furious and wild. The peak stood too tall as if it could touch the canopy and the chasm  was too deep and too hard to fathom.

She could see them on the peak, clasping against each other, being unaware of the fury that was brewing around them. They cling to each other as if there was no tomorrow only, today to live. They were happy, calm and contended. The raging waterfalls could not divert them not for a while. They were just living...living...living.  But it was short lived.

Sandra could hear her own scream..."John....John...John..."

He fell into the unfathomable abyss. She opened her eyes with sweat rolling down her cheeks. She saw John smiling at him in a framed photograph. She smiled back and rushed to pick her son from the school.

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Saturday, September 18, 2010

Aatif aslam

As I said earlier I now find a bit difficult to come up with new writings. I came across this song as a sheer coincidence and I found it interesting. Now I feel I can come up with something that has been latent in me for a long time.

Enjoy this wonderful romantic song brimming with love.

Just this

Selfishness...selfishness...selfishness
I hate it
I hate selfish people
Let them doom.

I have poured out my anger.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Kerala - God's own country

In my place, everything is green - the water,the trees, the rivulets...even the vast expanse of canopy is green in colour. It's the colour of richness, prosperity and fertility.

Have a look...


Wednesday, September 8, 2010

My English class

Yesterday, I really had a pretty tough time. I started my new job as an English trainer. There were twenty five students, to be precise. Though I enjoyed my part well,  they were not ready to open their mouth. In my place ( Kerala, situated at the southern tip of India), the people were quite good in English. They could understand and write English well. But they always found it difficult to speak. 

Most of them had their own inhibitions. They were always conscious and were very much worried that they would make mistakes. Mother Tongue Influence was another issue.Hence, they always kept mum.

The place where I was working now  was not an institution that taught  English. They were mostly concentrating on IT. I should say that  IT was their prime arena.

Despite having great deal of technical knowledge, the students did not  come out in flying colors in the interview due to the reason that they could not speak the language.

So I should make them speak some how. I really think it's going to be a great challenge.

Just this

I did my post graduation in English and also did a PG diploma in Electronic journalism t. I was a rank holder and I was quite good in all the assignments they had given me. But I could not pursue it due to many reasons.  After doing a bit of copy writing, I ended up as an English trainer. At the outset I was not too comfortable with this job.
 Why?
 Our society accepted engineers, doctors and bureaucrats. So I always shoved all my likes and passions to the back burner. The people around me were not all pleased with my present job. I also showed them that I too felt the same. But deep inside I was complacent for I loved to talk and interact with people and here I am with a bunch of students.
P.S. I could also blog without any interruption
Hey! Please drop in and give me some valuable suggestions to improve my English as well as theirs too.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

The relevance of International year of forests


I came across an article about deforestation, so I thought of writing about it and here it is :

90 acres of rain forests are destroyed every minute. The survival rate of world species is at stake. Global warming is shaking the whole world. Air pollution, water pollution, soil erosion, heavy winds, the list is incessant and the cause is explicit – Deforestation.

About 60% of the ecosystem is exploited in a non-sustainable manner. Hence, the risk is high. Keeping the impending dangers in mind and to promote sustainable management, conservation and to develop forests world wide, General Assembly of UN has declared the year 2011 as the International Year of Forests. It has set a plinth to address the crucial issues that affects the forests and its abundant resources .

The international year should act as a catalyst in harnessing the International public opinion. Since deforestation is a crucial link to other issues that is being tackled in the global level, it could not be alluded at any rate. Nature's fury is at its zenith. We have already tasted many aftermaths.

Global warming is increasing at an alarming rate. Researches have shown that Green Land island has already started depositing major chunk of its ice to the ocean which will increase the sea level and can wipe out New Orleans. Cyclones and tornadoes are wreaking havoc. Floods and tsunamis add much gravity to the situation. Pollution mar the environment that we live. Natural resources are badly needed for the survival of mankind. The increasing burden of population threatens the life of forests each day.

For many countries, especially developing countries, forests embodies the most important resources for development and poverty eradication. Hence the International Year should highlight forests as an important part of development.

The Director of the United Nations Forum on Forests Secretariat has rightly observed that “This would be an open invitation to the world community to come together and work with Governments, international organizations and civil society, to ensure that our forests are managed for current and future generations.”


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Monday, September 6, 2010

Just this

I was sitting in front of my laptop for quite a long time. I could not come with anything to write. Hence, I convinced myself that " Speech is silver, Silence is golden."

Thursday, September 2, 2010

He is naughty - Lord Krishna


"Just as a fire is covered by smoke and a mirror is obscured by dust, just as the embryo rests deep within the womb, wisdom is hidden by selfish desire." - Bhagavat Gita
 


" Karma does not bind one who has renounced work." - Bhagavat Gita

 
 
"Hell has three gates: lust, anger, and greed." - Bhagavat Gita
 
 
Happy JANMASHTAMI ( birthday of Lord Krishna) 
 
 

Could you interpret my DREAM

I had a dream once. 
I could see a deep and dark abyss flanked by peaks.
It was unfathomable. 
The peak could touch and caress the blue canopy. 
The hoarfrost on it could prick the sky.

There was a long queue waiting eagerly to cross the gorge. The queue seemed meandering and unending.
But I could see somebody whom I knew at the end of the line. It came as a sudden surprise. 
It was me.
hiss..zzzz
A giant leap could make them cross the abyss. Inside it, two horrendous serpents were cuddling and flying up and down.
It was spiteful and spewed venom.
I waited for my turn stoically.
Nobody could traverse the gorge. When they jumped and reached the middle of the gorge, they were hit and bit by the astounding snakes.
What would happen to me?
I was going to jump.

I took a leap, serpents were high up and it seemed it could touch me, but could not as I twisted my legs and crossed the gorge.
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Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Nothingness

I started counting the stars in the sky. The vast expanse of canopy was breathing slowly and was going to slip into a deep slumber. But I could not sleep. I forgot those days when I used to sleep like a log. It was when she was here. I counted the stars just to find out the most glistening amidst them. It could be her– my mother. I missed her badly. She would always tell me to count the stars to relieve my anger and I did that every night. I was angry with me -angry for not being as beautiful as her, for not being as adept as her in anything.

My father married again. You would be surprised to know that I did not even know her name. She never was a cunning stepmother. She was neither like a mother too. We both were two hapless creatures who ended up in the same place for the reasons of not our own. We knew it but never cared to show it to each other. We never felt like it. She toiled and moiled until she was worn out. Thank God! She knew how to get rid of those dirty emotions out of her. But I was smarting under me. I always felt like laughing aloud but could not. It felt as if a rope was tied between my cheeks and the corner of my temples. It restrained me from laughing aloud.

I always wondered how my mother could fall for a man like him, who was always scared of loving his children, who always believed love could destroy them. They had an inter-religious as well as an inter-caste marriage. They had to start right from the very beginning. Each penny was saved to build their future.

We had a single room house to start with. I remember those when we four (father, mother, brother and myself) slept together in the same room. I could hear them loving each other in the middle of the night. They took extreme care to limit their caresses for the fear of awaking us. When they were asleep after the long process of loving each other they wrapped themselves in each other's arms and slept till the crack of the dawn. I could not make it out what was it. But I felt it as soothing and lovable. The deep moaning late at night soon became a comforting song and I always lent my ears for it. 

Now no moaning and caresses, only deep cries. I always wondered whether he could be the same man with my stepmother. I tried to eavesdrop on them but now the one room home had given way to a house with strong walls. If the walls had the ears they could hear it and would hide it in their heart.

He never told us that he was going to marry which he did six years after my mother's death. It might not be easy for him to resist the call of flesh and blood. But I was certain that the moaning would not have the charms it had before.

Monday, August 30, 2010

The desire to suspect

Oh honey! How long we have to do this in hiding?

Cameron emerged from his room.

Who is it? His mom was already gone. Who was in his father's room? He did not want to eavesdrop but that was what he exactly did. Somebody was inside the room with his father – a woman. Who was she?

The keyhole was of not much help. Suddenly, the lock was turning. Cameron dashed for a hiding from where he could see the prying voice. The door opened in no time.  He ducked his head for not to be visible. He could see her silhouette. She was tall, taller than her mother. He lifted his head from his hiding.

She was beautiful than her mother.

Drop dead gorgeous- that's what he had heard people saying in the TV for beautiful women. That's exactly she was. But his dad loved her mom.

A sharp pain pricked his heart.  

 Unlike the other children of his age, he loved to cuddle himself in the warmth of his bed to delve into a book. He devoured everything too deeply that he would spent sleepless nights pondering over the characters he come across. It had its own way of comforting him.

Those raven black eyes were still haunting him.

                                                                         ****
Charlotte was back home after her work. Tedious work in the bank always made her sick at the end of the day. It was Ben who took care of all the household chores. He was a writer and mostly he spent his days at home, writing.

Ben Thigpen was a prolific writer. He wrote and his Thigpen enterprises took care of all his other affairs.

“Cameron...baby, I am home...where are you? Just take your head out of your book for a little while...I've got something for you”.

Cameron was upstairs, brooding over the new conundrum he was faced with.

“Honey, don't put your head too much into it.” Charlotte came and took a seat beside her son. He had taken after his father. His eyes, his hair, his chubby cheeks, his smile - everything looked the same. She brushed a light kiss on his plump cheek.

“Hey macho! I've got something for you”.

“Another gift of course”...he said without much zeal.

“How do you know that”.

He didn't reply. She always caressed him with gifts, her way of expressing love.

She gave him a neatly gift wrapped box she was hiding at her back.

“Mom...why do you always buy me gifts”.

 “Coz I love you baby...now give me a tight hug...carry on with your work, Cameron”, and she left the room.

I love you too mom. Cameron gazed at the door. He realized that he was going have sleepless nights.
                                                                           ****

Cameron confronted the mystery woman quite too often and one day they bumped into each other.

She was sitting on the couch with a glass full of blushing wine. Cameron could see her now. The door was open and his father was nowhere to be seen. He looked at her without a wink. The wine and her cheeks resembled. Her voluptuous lips sipped the wine and it was slowly washed in. Her eyes were shut with each sip. She was savoring every bit of it. Her hair was neatly tucked into a pony tail. It was dazzling gold.  He stood there for a long time until, she saw him. She stood and her long and elegant legs were now approaching him. She was too tall that he had to look up. She bent and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Hey! I never got to see you. You must be Cameron.  I am Nicole”. She extended her hand for a shake.

“Who are you?”

“I am Nicole Brooke.”

“What are you doing in my house?” 

“Oh! I am just a friend of your father.”

“What are you doing with my father?”

“I just came here to see your father.”

“Don’t come again.”

“What?”

“Why are you sitting on my mother's couch?”

“You know why, coz soon this is going to be my couch. Now, get away.”

Cameron could not sleep that night. His mom was too good. Why it was happening to her?

But he could not bring himself to disclose to his mother what was happening behind her. But all his control exploded when he again saw Nicole in lingerie in his father's room. His father could not spoof his mother anymore.

“Mom, Dad is seeing someone.”

“What?  Cameron, Are you nuts?. Be careful before you say something like this.”

“Yes Mom, she was right there on the couch with a glass of wine.”

“Cameron, enough”.

“She spoke to me.”

“What did she speak?

“That ...that she was going to have your couch soon.”

“What? Stop your crap, Cameron.”

“No mom, I am speaking the truth. She is beautiful...I...I mean don't allow dad to spoof you.”

“Cameron...you are not supposed to speak like this and eavesdrop your father.”
Charlotte waited until Cameron finished his supper.

 No sooner he reached his room he could hear the commotion downstairs.

“Charlotte, What do you mean by I am secretly seeing some one.”

“I mean what I said, Ben.”

“Baby! I love you. Trust me.”

“I love you too, Ben. But why should Cameron lie.”

“Donno...I am not seeing anybody.”

“He said, he saw her sitting on this couch.”

“What?”

“She spoke to him. She said she was going to have this couch soon.”

“What a crap, Charlotte...Let me talk to Cameron.”

“No, you won't. May be he is upset with something.” retorted Charlotte.

“Might be. But why should he lie.”

“ I'll talk to him,Ben.”

Cameron was now quite good at eavesdropping and learned that his dad convinced his mom with his fake story. He was decided that he would come up with his clandestine affair.

He didn't leave for the school next morning.

“Cameron, get ready for the school...Cameron.”

“Gosh...you are still asleep.”

“What’s up, baby?”

“Feel feverish.”

“Oh baby...Don't worry. You'll be awright.”
Charlotte, knew that he was upset over yesterday and what he needed was rest. She placed a smothering kiss on his temple.

Ben could not forget the way he looked at him. It was full of hatred. He was more than a father to him. He knew that his son was not like him. Cameron loved to be in his self cocoon and Ben loved people and places. But Cameron was all he wanted and loved and he could not tolerate his son's abhorrence anymore.

 “Cameron, why don't you come downstairs and have your breakfast. Hey dude!, are you upset with me.”

Cameron said nothing

“Hey baby, I love you. What's up?”

“You cannot spoof my mom anymore.”

                                                                            ****
Cameron was waiting for her and Nicole did turn up the very next day.

“I heard you told your mom about me. You are going to see me quite often.”

She came every day and Cameron made bogus excuses to confront her.

Charlotte was aware of her son's change. But she waited and wanted to give her son a little more time.

“She was here, yesterday” Cameron was sitting opposite to his father at the breakfast table.

“Who was here?” Charlotte asked without taking her eyes from him.

“That woman...Nicole.”

“Stop it, Cameron” Ben screamed at the top of his voice.

“Why should I stop? I was here all day...no...all these days just to see her...She was coming here every day, mom...I also saw her wearing your black lingerie”.

“Cameron...Get out of my way.” Ben yelled at him.

“Ben, Please...no...Keep cool.”

Cameron was seeing his father's outburst for the first time. He rushed and hid himself where he first hid for the first time to see that woman.

“It’s OK baby....come out...I trust you...come out.”

“Mom...don't give your couch, mom.”

“No, I won't...” She hugged her son so tightly.

“Do you still believe your son, Charlotte. I do not know any Nicole. Oh God! I haven't done anything to upset him. Speak up. Don't kill me with your silence”.

“I trust you Ben... I don't have black lingerie. We should do something. Something is happening to him. Why don't we call Judd?”

“Judd.”

“Yes, Dr. Judd Reid.”

Ben and Charlotte Thigpen were in front of their friend and a famous psychologist Dr. Judd Reid.

“What’s it Judd? Why is he behaving so strangely?”. Ben asked with a tired voice.

“Ben, he is having hallucinations. That lady Nicole is just his hallucination. She doesn't exist? Dr. Judd could read the worry that written all over his friend's face.

“What do you mean by that?” 

 “Charlotte! He is Schizophrenic”.

SCHIZOPHRENIA- Charlotte was numb. Her son had Schizophrenia. She looked at Ben unbelievably, just to see that Judd was sprinkling water on her unconscious husband's face.

“Mom, I saw her.” Charlotte turned back just to see her son's anxious face.

“She is here. She'll hurt you.”

“No baby, she won't.” She hugged her son tightly as if she won't give her son to anything.


                                                                           ****

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Njan Gandharvan

Those movies appeal to me through which I could relate or identify myself."Njan Gandharvan" by Padmarajan is of no exception.
" Njan Gandharvan" is like riding a horse of fantacy.It has illusion and reality which has been interwoven and gives a grand fiesta to our senses." Gandharvan"- a mythical figure descends from the heaven to the earth and falls for a girl.

This movie is so close to my heart for I usually takes solace in the flight of imagination, fantasies and reveries.I could easily relate me with the character which is portrayed by Suparna.

The Paalamaram, the bead which Gandharvan gives her when she needs to meet him, the fire fly, the butterfly.........all these creates an ethereal feel which is much more to mesmerize a fantasized heart.I could intensely feel the flow of emotions between Bhama and Gandharvan which is eternal and it could be explicitly seen in the very last scenes of the movie.

She is deprived of him and he is deprived of her, though they never wanted it to happen.

Bhama , a student who comes across a tiny statue incourse of her tour turns out to be the statue of Gandharvan.It instills in her a sort of excitement.But the real excitement begins when he appears before her in flesh and blood.

His romantic sessions with the girl is too intense and unlike humans he can meet her anywhere and everywhere.He has given her a bead which she wears on her chain,so that he can be easily accessible when she kisses it.Thus the romantic saga goes on for a while.........

It is the rule of the heaven that a Gandharvan should return to heaven after marauding the chastity of the girl who has fallen prey to his love.These mystical figures do not bear children.Once their purpose is served they would leave the earth forever and also do not leave behind any traces of memories for the girl to cherish.

There is a scene in which we hear Bhama's grandmother saying "a girl broods over something and does nothing if she is inflicted with the memories of Gandharvan"This is what has exactly happened with Bhama.

Time has arrived for him to leave her.But the real conflict occurs when a desire sprouts in him to live with her forever and ever.But it is not quite easy for him to have an escapade from the entanglement of heaven.He has to go back and he decides to do so without tormenting her, though he is aware that the aftermath of his decision would be "Hell."

But Bhama cannot grant him the hell. She loves him. She cannot bear her chastity being an infliction on him.She is ready to cull out her heart but could not tolerate his self torture.
Thus happens the consummation of love...their love...and he leaves her.

What would have happened to her?..Does her heart still ache for him?..Has she completely gone into the oblivion?..Is she still in a state of torment?

I saw " Njan Gandharvan" when I was a very little girl.But still could not forget her.


Monday, June 28, 2010

Life is at stake here.

 She lay in the splattered pool of blood... Her slow motioned eyes searching for something... It had the eagerness despite it's owner's desperation. It searched and searched until it met its soul mate.

He was lying on the other end.  His eye balls still, not ready to budge a bit. She stretched her hand until the tip of her fingers met his. The days of apprehensions and helplessness were deep buried in the earth.

The memories gushed in and out...Her eyes could see it.

She was eight and he was ten when they first met in the narrow mound that meandered through the golden fields of their village. He was too tall that she had to lift her face full to see him. His face guaranteed everything. She was unsure, whether he felt the same .In no time, her doubts withered.  The drizzle of his smile was overwhelming as if it was kept hidden for centuries. The days and nights came and went. Seasons took its various forms. But their smiles were still the same. It grew and grew with all its charm.


A new world of freedom was born amidst them – College.

 It has been years since they were bonded with smile. She was ecstatic to meet him and the waiting came to an end when he came to her and asked for her name.

“Gudiya....” the reply was wrapped in a blush.

“Anurag...” he told his name with the same usual smile.

Nothing more...silence spoke for them. It went on for months. But they could read each other's minds. After their initial reluctance, both took the rein of their freedom in their own hands. As days multiplied, the woes of the thought of separation too swelled. They seemed aware of their future.

The insecure future – that was what they would like to call it. Their union put forth before them a straight question mark.

Time has changed, but the attitude with which the entire fabric of society was built was still the same. Religion, caste...the list was endless. Men cared not for their loved ones, but their religion. Honour was the term that was entwined not with human emotions, but with bizarre and ludicrous customs and conventions. Unfortunately, they too belonged to this society, though same religion, but two different castes. They were scared of it. They could not live under the wrath of the society.

Would they be able to cross it? Do they have the courage to take the bull by its horns?

 But love had its own answer... It knew no society and boundaries.

She was beautiful in her chilly red wedding saree. Nothing changed...everything was still the same. Silence and smile with which they became ready to build the empire of love echoed amidst them. He looked at her crown. It was flashing with red saffron.

“She is mine”, he thought with pride.


When the village came to know about their secret love affair, it unleashed intense torture. They could not die. Death would be an escapade. They loved each other, so they fled. And here they were sitting beneath the calm sky with no worries to embitter their dreams.

Days passed...and their life flourished in bliss unaware of their society's conspiring mind.


It was a Saturday…

 Someone was knocking at her door. It was her mother. She could not believe it and hugged her mother with swarming emotions. Tears welled in her eyes. But her mother stood still as a rock devoid of any feelings and passions. She had shoved her motherhood in the deepest trench of abhorrence.

Her grip on her mother loosened as she saw her uncle and brother. She could see her entire village in her portico. Panic struck her with heavy hands. They were there not to bury the hatchet, but to seek vengeance. They believed both of them had disgraced their society.

 Somebody handed her brother a glistening sword. She looked around for an easy resort and found none. Hatred spewed from her mother's eyes. Anurag was not yet home.

She knelt before them beseeching for their life. The sword was up in the air. But it could not  strike its first blow. She looked up and saw Anurag clutching her brother's arm. He was fierce. He could not let leave his life easily which he had gathered to nourish. But they had already made up their mind. The first fatal blow wreaked its havoc. Anurag was writhing in the pool of blood.

The drizzle was easily replaced by a heavy down pour. Blood every where. The shattered dream hid itself in the dark corners, not want to get drenched in the whirlpool of blood.

She knew it was her time to go - to go the unknown territories. And she was happy for she was not alone. He was with her. 

Her eye balls too become rigid looking at him....


***********

Author's note: This story is inspired from a real life incident that has been reported especially in Haryana and Uttarpradesh.  “Honour Killing'- that's how this gruesome reality is termed. It happens in the 2nd longest democracy in the world - India. A couple was brutally murdered without any mercy. They were not supposed to disgrace their family.  The culprits were captured, but were not apologetic of what they have inflicted not only to their dear ones, but to the entire society. This was not a single incident. Two sisters were cruelly killed for they decided to live their life on their own terms. When one chose modeling as her career, the other chose to lead her life with the man she was in love. Death was the punishment bestowed on these two young women for their crime.