The bus swayed dangerously to one side on its way down, righted itself in time, and rushed forward to take the next curve. The driver, oblivious to the plight of its occupants was intent only on getting down the hill in the fastest possible way. I clutched desperately at the lemon in my hand, tried, failed and proceeded to deposit the contents of my stomach down the sides of the bus. Task accomplished, I sat back and tried not to feel guilty at the frowns from the other passengers. I had done this journey at least fifty times a year and yet had never felt good about it once.Another hour and our ordeal was over as we reached the rolling plains. We still had some distance to cover.
Sindhu and I were so excited, we could barely sit still. Amma predictably fell asleep in the last half an hour of the journey and had to be shaken awake as our destination neared. We got off, vomit-stained and weary.
At last I could see Thatha sitting on his rocking chair on the broad verandah. Ammachi anxiously scanning the road, looking out for us. We were enveloped by people as we reached. Questions, hugs, smiles. It was good to come home.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The sun came out
She looked at herself in the mirror and saw what she had become. Brown eyes dulled by pain, unruly hair that hadn’t been brushed in a while, a tired face. That was exactly how she felt – tired and dull. It had been over a month now and time seemed to have done nothing to erase the pain. She found it easier if she didn’t think about it, in fact if she did not think at all. She spent all her time, curled up on the sofa, gazing out of the window. The weather outside seemed to sympathize. It had rained for most of the time they had been here.
Her parents were worried. It would have bothered her once, the look on their faces. But she shut them out now, like she had shut out everything else. It was exactly 2 months today, to the day she had been married. They both hadn’t been able to stop smiling, their happiness bubbling over. It had been a perfect wedding. They had a whole month together, and he was gone. One more victim in the rising number of accidents, one more statistic. How did it really matter in a population of over a billion?
She was lucky, they said. Lucky not to have been there, lucky to have escaped, lucky not to have witnessed it. What did they really know about luck? Where was meaning now? What did she have to live for? Her life seemed a bleak empty landscape, matching the weather outside. Her parents had brought her back home, away from anxious and well-meaning relatives. Who talked about her in hushed whispers, about poojas and second marriages, the evil eye and bad luck. She seemed not to hear or see. Nothing mattered anymore, really.
Home was the hills, the cold air, the comforting house and memories of childhood. She started going for long walks alone, hoping that physical exhaustion would help shut out the pain. The rest of the time was spent on the sofa hardly eating or sleeping.
Her mother mentioned one day that she had met Shika, who had asked if they could meet. To her own surprise she agreed. The meeting was swiftly arranged before she could change her mind. Shika, with whom she had been inseparable for two years in school. Her closest friend for a long time until work and life had thrown them apart. She wondered what would she say when they met, would they have anything left to say after so many years? She wanted to cancel, but picking up the phone and calling was too much of an effort. It seemed ages since she had last had gone through the motions of any social conversation. Silence had been her only weapon, her only means to cope.
The day dawned, dark and depressing as it had been for the past month. Rain lashed the windows, the road was a muddy river. She couldn’t go in this weather she decided, and felt relief, tinged with a little disappointment. Suddenly by afternoon the rain stopped, the weather cleared. She did not have the energy to make an excuse, she went out to meet her friend.
Shika came and enveloped her in a hug. The mists cleared a little. They went to a little coffee shop, so they could talk, and sip coffee in awkward moments. Suddenly the years seemed to disappear, they talked as if they had never been apart. There was so much to say and so little time to say it. She talked and talked and talked. About her husband, dreams they had had, the wonderful times spent together and how it suddenly vanished in a second. She didn’t know how precious it had been till it had disappeared. Shika merely nodded. Listened and held her hand through the tears.
It was finally time to leave, and they walked out together into the sunshine. The sun had come out so that the 2 friends could meet.
Her parents were worried. It would have bothered her once, the look on their faces. But she shut them out now, like she had shut out everything else. It was exactly 2 months today, to the day she had been married. They both hadn’t been able to stop smiling, their happiness bubbling over. It had been a perfect wedding. They had a whole month together, and he was gone. One more victim in the rising number of accidents, one more statistic. How did it really matter in a population of over a billion?
She was lucky, they said. Lucky not to have been there, lucky to have escaped, lucky not to have witnessed it. What did they really know about luck? Where was meaning now? What did she have to live for? Her life seemed a bleak empty landscape, matching the weather outside. Her parents had brought her back home, away from anxious and well-meaning relatives. Who talked about her in hushed whispers, about poojas and second marriages, the evil eye and bad luck. She seemed not to hear or see. Nothing mattered anymore, really.
Home was the hills, the cold air, the comforting house and memories of childhood. She started going for long walks alone, hoping that physical exhaustion would help shut out the pain. The rest of the time was spent on the sofa hardly eating or sleeping.
Her mother mentioned one day that she had met Shika, who had asked if they could meet. To her own surprise she agreed. The meeting was swiftly arranged before she could change her mind. Shika, with whom she had been inseparable for two years in school. Her closest friend for a long time until work and life had thrown them apart. She wondered what would she say when they met, would they have anything left to say after so many years? She wanted to cancel, but picking up the phone and calling was too much of an effort. It seemed ages since she had last had gone through the motions of any social conversation. Silence had been her only weapon, her only means to cope.
The day dawned, dark and depressing as it had been for the past month. Rain lashed the windows, the road was a muddy river. She couldn’t go in this weather she decided, and felt relief, tinged with a little disappointment. Suddenly by afternoon the rain stopped, the weather cleared. She did not have the energy to make an excuse, she went out to meet her friend.
Shika came and enveloped her in a hug. The mists cleared a little. They went to a little coffee shop, so they could talk, and sip coffee in awkward moments. Suddenly the years seemed to disappear, they talked as if they had never been apart. There was so much to say and so little time to say it. She talked and talked and talked. About her husband, dreams they had had, the wonderful times spent together and how it suddenly vanished in a second. She didn’t know how precious it had been till it had disappeared. Shika merely nodded. Listened and held her hand through the tears.
It was finally time to leave, and they walked out together into the sunshine. The sun had come out so that the 2 friends could meet.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Adulthood
I took a step towards adulthood today
Some childish innocence slipped away
A little less noise
A little more poise
Though maturity is still plodding on its way
Some childish innocence slipped away
A little less noise
A little more poise
Though maturity is still plodding on its way
Thursday, August 20, 2009
An Ode to Positivity
Oh Positivity! Where were you, in times of misery,
When only cold winds of anger and self-pity surrounded me?
Why do you appear only in bursts of sunshine,
When all seems well with the world?
Oh Fair weather friend! What are the charms that
Authors of self help books have seen in your eyes?
Will you not reveal to me, the 'Secrets' of the universe?
Or show me the ways to 'think and grow rich'?
Would you please stay? Would you make me realise
That the glass is really half full, that the pit i am in
Could have been deeper and bleaker,
That the darkest hour of night is just before dawn sets in?
Oh Positivity, my friend! Where art thou?
When only cold winds of anger and self-pity surrounded me?
Why do you appear only in bursts of sunshine,
When all seems well with the world?
Oh Fair weather friend! What are the charms that
Authors of self help books have seen in your eyes?
Will you not reveal to me, the 'Secrets' of the universe?
Or show me the ways to 'think and grow rich'?
Would you please stay? Would you make me realise
That the glass is really half full, that the pit i am in
Could have been deeper and bleaker,
That the darkest hour of night is just before dawn sets in?
Oh Positivity, my friend! Where art thou?
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Holes
Holes in the ground, I wish I could disappear into
They never appear when I want them to
People knocking, asking for things i dont wanna give
Wish I could learn just how to live
Rabbit holes transport you to wonderland
Will I find mine close at hand?
Coz I just wanna run far far away
Find a hole that would be my hideaway
Holes in my heart, I've shed many a tear
People in my life appear and disappear
Angry words, hurt and disappointment
Wish they would go away somewhere permanent
Rabbit holes transport you to wonderland
Will I find mine close at hand?
I just wanna run far far away
Find a hole that would be my hideaway
Holes in my head black and endless
Thoughts i dont wanna think or express
Things I dont wanna remember, places I dont wanna go
Carefully skirt around them, but they are still there I know
Rabbit holes transport you to wonderland
Will I find mine close at hand?
I just wanna run far far away
Find a hole that would be my hideaway
They never appear when I want them to
People knocking, asking for things i dont wanna give
Wish I could learn just how to live
Rabbit holes transport you to wonderland
Will I find mine close at hand?
Coz I just wanna run far far away
Find a hole that would be my hideaway
Holes in my heart, I've shed many a tear
People in my life appear and disappear
Angry words, hurt and disappointment
Wish they would go away somewhere permanent
Rabbit holes transport you to wonderland
Will I find mine close at hand?
I just wanna run far far away
Find a hole that would be my hideaway
Holes in my head black and endless
Thoughts i dont wanna think or express
Things I dont wanna remember, places I dont wanna go
Carefully skirt around them, but they are still there I know
Rabbit holes transport you to wonderland
Will I find mine close at hand?
I just wanna run far far away
Find a hole that would be my hideaway
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Early Morning Office
I had forgotten what it felt like to come into office on an early morning. Sunlight pouring in through the windows and an empty expanse of cublicles, the water cooler free of people, the cafeteria just getting ready for breakfast, the AC not freezing cold. And the total silence.
It's nice to watch the office slowly fill up as people come in and start work. Switch on their computers, check their emails, drink some coffee, banter with friends. And then start their endless phone conversations.
The office machine slowly wakes up to life, and the human cogs start turning. The wheels will grind on late into the night.
But for now its an empty office.
It's nice to watch the office slowly fill up as people come in and start work. Switch on their computers, check their emails, drink some coffee, banter with friends. And then start their endless phone conversations.
The office machine slowly wakes up to life, and the human cogs start turning. The wheels will grind on late into the night.
But for now its an empty office.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Oh What Freedom this!!!
It's been a long long time. I have to come to office early to do this. :)
What shall I write about today? Theres everything and nothing. I've been thinking about the process of novel writing. How do authors construct a story, fit charachters into it and govern everything about them? Its a feeling of immense power but incredibly difficult. How do they ever decide that this is the way the story is goins to happen, this is the way this charachter is going to behave and this is the way I am going to write it. I for one cant even think of a story I want to write about.
What shall I write about today? Theres everything and nothing. I've been thinking about the process of novel writing. How do authors construct a story, fit charachters into it and govern everything about them? Its a feeling of immense power but incredibly difficult. How do they ever decide that this is the way the story is goins to happen, this is the way this charachter is going to behave and this is the way I am going to write it. I for one cant even think of a story I want to write about.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Why are you Late Today ?
The door bell rings suddenly, insistently, shaking me out of my slumber and I walk bleary eyed to the door. The maid awaits, having managed to wake me after four attempts at the bell. Our morning alarm clock is late again. And I know that we will be rushing to office, running around desperately to catch an auto-wallah willing to take us the short distance to office, cursing the traffic, and generally doing what most Mumbaikars do in the morning.
“Why are u late today?”, I question querulously, “Don’t you know we have to get to office by 9, and can’t be waiting for you?”. She does not answer, just staggers around unsteadily while she attempts to sweep the house. I notice, and think for the umpteenth time that we need to get a new maid, this one seems to be getting worse by the day. But there just doesn’t seem to be the time to do anything nowadays. I rush to office, oblivious to any problems but my own.
Another day dawns, more leisurely this time. The bell wakes me up again. I even attempt a smile today, from the general good cheer of the weekend stretching ahead. I make some tea while she cuts the vegetables. Only when I am about to drink it, does it occur to me to offer her some. She becomes a human suddenly, just the same as me. A few questions and I learn her story. Married at 18, four kids already, and a drunk for a husband who beats her up regularly. The last time he had done that, she had had to go to hospital for a week and couldn’t walk properly after that. She still came to work anyway because she’s the only earning member now. Economic independence and women’s liberty. This is not what they mean, surely?
The door bell rings again. She seems terrified. “If it is my husband, tell him that I have left. Please. He will drag me home if he finds me here”. I open the door to find blood shot eyes. I smell the alcohol on his breath. I hold the door open an inch, and say she has left. He repeats the question, and I my answer. More irritably. Insistently. I slam the door shut on his face, wishing instead that I could give him a taste of his own medicine.
She smiles at me gratefully. We are allies now. Friends in a way. She may remain a terrible cook, and a sloppy worker. But she’s turned more into ‘Madhuri didi’ now, from being just ‘the maid’.
“Why are u late today?”, I question querulously, “Don’t you know we have to get to office by 9, and can’t be waiting for you?”. She does not answer, just staggers around unsteadily while she attempts to sweep the house. I notice, and think for the umpteenth time that we need to get a new maid, this one seems to be getting worse by the day. But there just doesn’t seem to be the time to do anything nowadays. I rush to office, oblivious to any problems but my own.
Another day dawns, more leisurely this time. The bell wakes me up again. I even attempt a smile today, from the general good cheer of the weekend stretching ahead. I make some tea while she cuts the vegetables. Only when I am about to drink it, does it occur to me to offer her some. She becomes a human suddenly, just the same as me. A few questions and I learn her story. Married at 18, four kids already, and a drunk for a husband who beats her up regularly. The last time he had done that, she had had to go to hospital for a week and couldn’t walk properly after that. She still came to work anyway because she’s the only earning member now. Economic independence and women’s liberty. This is not what they mean, surely?
The door bell rings again. She seems terrified. “If it is my husband, tell him that I have left. Please. He will drag me home if he finds me here”. I open the door to find blood shot eyes. I smell the alcohol on his breath. I hold the door open an inch, and say she has left. He repeats the question, and I my answer. More irritably. Insistently. I slam the door shut on his face, wishing instead that I could give him a taste of his own medicine.
She smiles at me gratefully. We are allies now. Friends in a way. She may remain a terrible cook, and a sloppy worker. But she’s turned more into ‘Madhuri didi’ now, from being just ‘the maid’.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
The Incredible Kindness of People
We often hear stories of people complaining about how they have been unfairly treated by others. I think its an in built human trait that we focus on the negatives rather than the positives. But i have often been amazed by the sheer kindness that people can exhibit sometimes without expecting anything in return.
I was on my first trip to Mumbai, alone on a train from Chennai, visiting the IIT campus for a competition. Solely dependent on some vague instructions provided by the event organisers I was a little nervous about how to get to the campus from the station. Asking a few people in the compartment around me, elicited immediate directions and warnings. One man actually got down in the station along with me, put me on a taxi after issuing dire warnings to the driver and even went to the extent of calling me after half an hour to inquire if I had reached safely. I was incredibly touched. And delighted. That a total stranger should go to so much trouble for me expecting nothing in return was surprising to say the least.
Ive tried to do my bit too after that, helping strangers with heavy luggage, giving up seats on buses for old people, exchanging berths on trains. Little bits of kindness here and there. People view me suspiciously sometimes, but they make someone's day a little brighter sometimes. And they are surprised too by the kindness of strangers.
I was on my first trip to Mumbai, alone on a train from Chennai, visiting the IIT campus for a competition. Solely dependent on some vague instructions provided by the event organisers I was a little nervous about how to get to the campus from the station. Asking a few people in the compartment around me, elicited immediate directions and warnings. One man actually got down in the station along with me, put me on a taxi after issuing dire warnings to the driver and even went to the extent of calling me after half an hour to inquire if I had reached safely. I was incredibly touched. And delighted. That a total stranger should go to so much trouble for me expecting nothing in return was surprising to say the least.
Ive tried to do my bit too after that, helping strangers with heavy luggage, giving up seats on buses for old people, exchanging berths on trains. Little bits of kindness here and there. People view me suspiciously sometimes, but they make someone's day a little brighter sometimes. And they are surprised too by the kindness of strangers.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Transition times
My life has been always neatly divided into phases. There was school, college, Wipro, MBA so far and now my married phase is about to begin. But I think its those in between transition times that are the hardest to define and get through. Looking back now I think they were what helped to adjust from one phase to another and changed something inside me. Helped me grow up from a school going child to one supposedly ready to face the challenges and sudden independence in college. And then from an immature college student to an excited then bored office goer.
I am in a transition time right now, and I have the feeling of having lost my moorings, of being afloat and patiently waiting to reach somewhere, to start the next phase. I can already feel the time slipping away, the time I want to cling onto and remember - as a spoilt grandchild, as an independent woman, as a daughter with the freedom to make her own decisions, as a child who doesn’t have to think about what others might think of her actions. Time to just sit at home and while the hours away, reading a book or sleeping or just doing nothing without feeling guilty about it. This is one of the most precious times to me and i intend (hopefully) to use it well.
I am in a transition time right now, and I have the feeling of having lost my moorings, of being afloat and patiently waiting to reach somewhere, to start the next phase. I can already feel the time slipping away, the time I want to cling onto and remember - as a spoilt grandchild, as an independent woman, as a daughter with the freedom to make her own decisions, as a child who doesn’t have to think about what others might think of her actions. Time to just sit at home and while the hours away, reading a book or sleeping or just doing nothing without feeling guilty about it. This is one of the most precious times to me and i intend (hopefully) to use it well.
Friday, February 29, 2008
The End
The last class is over. The last exam done tomorrow. My dues will be paid. My bags will be packed. And I will be out of here in a few days. 'Here' has been home for two years. An incredible two years.
A tiny room that surprisingly seems to fit in everything. Friends for life. A totally new career. A few amazing professors, a few horrific. Burning the midnight oil everyday. Learning outside the classroom. Tough schedules. Movies on the Lan. Endless chatting. Shouting at the top of my voice. Dancing in the rain. Long walks on empty roads. Last minute submissions. Giggly Gossip Sessions. Never ending assignments. Meetings in the well. Sleeping in class. Laughing uproariously at silly jokes. Making presentations I haven't even read before. 24 hours internet. Reading in the empty library. Impulsive trips with friends. Arguing with 'bhainas' in broken Hindi. B Bot. Worrying about grades. Weekly trips to Big Bazaar. Endless batch meets with people shouting. Kotwal mails. Mess food. Cats sleeping under my bed. Washing machine queues.
I've had a wonderful time. And now its time to move out. And on. To a totally different phase in my life. Its scary. More than XIM was when i first arrived. I am leaving behind now, everything familiar and safe and comfortable and stepping out into the unknown. Am I doing the right thing? Am I doing it the right way? Will I make terrible mistakes? Do I know where I am going?
I dont know any of these things. But I know I can manage. I've learnt a little of that here.
A tiny room that surprisingly seems to fit in everything. Friends for life. A totally new career. A few amazing professors, a few horrific. Burning the midnight oil everyday. Learning outside the classroom. Tough schedules. Movies on the Lan. Endless chatting. Shouting at the top of my voice. Dancing in the rain. Long walks on empty roads. Last minute submissions. Giggly Gossip Sessions. Never ending assignments. Meetings in the well. Sleeping in class. Laughing uproariously at silly jokes. Making presentations I haven't even read before. 24 hours internet. Reading in the empty library. Impulsive trips with friends. Arguing with 'bhainas' in broken Hindi. B Bot. Worrying about grades. Weekly trips to Big Bazaar. Endless batch meets with people shouting. Kotwal mails. Mess food. Cats sleeping under my bed. Washing machine queues.
I've had a wonderful time. And now its time to move out. And on. To a totally different phase in my life. Its scary. More than XIM was when i first arrived. I am leaving behind now, everything familiar and safe and comfortable and stepping out into the unknown. Am I doing the right thing? Am I doing it the right way? Will I make terrible mistakes? Do I know where I am going?
I dont know any of these things. But I know I can manage. I've learnt a little of that here.
Friday, February 15, 2008
What am I Missing Here?
The days seem to flow into each other, each passes by unremarkably. And before I know it a month has gone by and I have nothing to show for it except a constant stream of movies, books, a few classes in between, lots of sleep and a decidedly lazy attitude to life. My resolutions of studying all the books in the library, of learning something new, of visiting as many places as I could, of writing of all the things I wanted to write but never had the time, of catching up with old friends, all seem to have vanished into thin air. I have caught ‘Sixth Term’ disease.
The last term in this course that has filled my life for the past two years is one that I have been looking forward to for so long. Very few classes, lots of free time and the placement headache out of the way. This is the time that we are supposed to enjoy ourselves, do all the things we never had the time to do and yet it feels strangely unsatisfactory. To while away all our hours in doing nothing and finding newer ways of ‘passing’ the time requires energy too, something we seem to lack. Occasional weekend trips once to
I seem to have lost something. Something that helps me want to do the things I’ve always wanted but never got the time. Something that inspires in me a disdain for the monotonous. Something that makes me hate my present life and makes me look for better things. Work. Need to find it soon.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Feel Good
Just came back from one of the best lectures i have ever attended. One of those defining moments of my time here. What was extraordinary about this particular one on services marketing ?
The professor put in a series of seemingly random thoughts on his ppt and yet made it interesting (and this coming from a person who has seen nothing but ppts for the past two years is definitely a compliment).
But we have had good speakers and presenters before. The concepts he was teaching were not really new.
He managed though to keep a bunch of bored and sleepy MBA students spell bound for three hours. His secret according to him, was that he treated this lecture as a service too. And therefore made every effort to 'delight' us. Catch our attention, connect to us and impart concepts in ways that we had never even imagined before. In the process he gave us a service experience that would be very difficult to match or surpass.planning
We were impressed by the amount of and thought that had gone into this lecture session. We have had professors and more professors. What made some of them outstanding was the passion they had for their subject, the level to which they were willing to go to make us equally passionate about it too.
What i have learnt in these two years is not management theory or jargon. Ive learnt that hard work always shows results, that the simplest words are more powerful than the most obscure jargon, that passion is what differentiates the good from the best.
The professor put in a series of seemingly random thoughts on his ppt and yet made it interesting (and this coming from a person who has seen nothing but ppts for the past two years is definitely a compliment).
But we have had good speakers and presenters before. The concepts he was teaching were not really new.
He managed though to keep a bunch of bored and sleepy MBA students spell bound for three hours. His secret according to him, was that he treated this lecture as a service too. And therefore made every effort to 'delight' us. Catch our attention, connect to us and impart concepts in ways that we had never even imagined before. In the process he gave us a service experience that would be very difficult to match or surpass.planning
We were impressed by the amount of and thought that had gone into this lecture session. We have had professors and more professors. What made some of them outstanding was the passion they had for their subject, the level to which they were willing to go to make us equally passionate about it too.
What i have learnt in these two years is not management theory or jargon. Ive learnt that hard work always shows results, that the simplest words are more powerful than the most obscure jargon, that passion is what differentiates the good from the best.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Banking and Poetry
What is it about Commercial Banking
That makes creative instincts flow?
Pens scribbling busily on paper, producing
Drawings, cartoons and now this little ditty too
The purple shirted professor
May in stature seem rather small
But to be uniformly detested by sixty
Is no mean feat at all
That makes creative instincts flow?
Pens scribbling busily on paper, producing
Drawings, cartoons and now this little ditty too
The purple shirted professor
May in stature seem rather small
But to be uniformly detested by sixty
Is no mean feat at all
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Udal Mannuku Uyir Tamizhiku
Udal Mannuku Uyir Tamizhiku
Ithai urakka solvom Ulagirku
Inam onraaga
Mozhi venraaga
Puthu velai edupom vidiviku
Nam Vetri pathaiyil Narigal vanthaal
Virunthu Vaipom vinniku
Pirantha pillai nadanthu pazhaga
Kaiyil velai kodupom
Pirantha pillai iranthu piranthal
Vaalal keeri puthaipom
Yutha sattham ketaal pothum
Mutha satham mudipom
Ratha kulathai nirappi nirappi
Vetri thaamarai paripom
Engal mannai thottavan kaalgal
Engal mannil uramaagum
Engal pennai thottavan kaigal
Engal Adupil viragaagum
Udal Mannuku Uyir Tamizhiku
Ithai urakka solvom Ulagirku
Inam onraaga
Mozhi venraaga
Puthu velai edupom vidiviku
Nam Vetri pathaiyil Narigal vanthaal
Virunthu Vaipom vinniku
- Vairamuthu in Iruvar
Ithai urakka solvom Ulagirku
Inam onraaga
Mozhi venraaga
Puthu velai edupom vidiviku
Nam Vetri pathaiyil Narigal vanthaal
Virunthu Vaipom vinniku
Pirantha pillai nadanthu pazhaga
Kaiyil velai kodupom
Pirantha pillai iranthu piranthal
Vaalal keeri puthaipom
Yutha sattham ketaal pothum
Mutha satham mudipom
Ratha kulathai nirappi nirappi
Vetri thaamarai paripom
Engal mannai thottavan kaalgal
Engal mannil uramaagum
Engal pennai thottavan kaigal
Engal Adupil viragaagum
Udal Mannuku Uyir Tamizhiku
Ithai urakka solvom Ulagirku
Inam onraaga
Mozhi venraaga
Puthu velai edupom vidiviku
Nam Vetri pathaiyil Narigal vanthaal
Virunthu Vaipom vinniku
- Vairamuthu in Iruvar
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Boat on Stormy Seas
The clouds break out on this oppressive night
That seemed to stretch endlessly ahead
Lightening flashes and thunder rolls
The mood catches us too
And suddenly our quiz papers
(The cause of the depression)
Come flying out
To become delicate vessels weathering stormy seas
And for ten minutes we forget ourselves
In trying to keep them afloat
That seemed to stretch endlessly ahead
Lightening flashes and thunder rolls
The mood catches us too
And suddenly our quiz papers
(The cause of the depression)
Come flying out
To become delicate vessels weathering stormy seas
And for ten minutes we forget ourselves
In trying to keep them afloat
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
"I am very sorry. I understand your situation. But the rules say you can't"
Six days separate us
23 years brought us together
My cousin. My friend. My sister.
Twenty three years
Of happiness and tears
Of dreams and fears
New discoveries
Adventures together
You were always the brave one.
The first to do something
I always followed. Hesitantly. But I did
The first to ride a cycle. Then the kinetic.
The first to go to hostel. The first to talk to boys.
The first to travel alone. To go out with friends.
To have fun. To cry your heart out. To get angry.
The first to break rules.
To do things that I could never have dreamed of.
To live.
I was the quiet one.
Immersed in my books.
Always followed the rules.
And now these rules.
Come back at me.
I miss the most important moment in your life.
“ I am very sorry but you can’t go to your sisters wedding.
The rues don’t allow it”
Why do people hide behind rules when they have to make a decision?
Why are rules always right and people always wrong?
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Birthdays
May 23rd was the birthday of two very unlikely friends of mine. Unlikely in the way we became friends, through the internet. Unlikely that we have stayed friends for so long and not drifted apart in the way that a lot of my friendships do. Two people totally unlike each other.
Raakesh. One of a disappearing breed of book readers who would never dream of listing Sidney Sheldon or Dan Brown as a favorite author. Who shares a passion for the written word and constantly introduces me to writers I’ve never heard of before. Who never ceases to amaze me with his literary skills. (And sometimes misleads me into thinking someone else’s poems, his own :)) Who manages to stay supremely unaffected by the ultra competitive world that is IIM-L. Whom I hope will get round to writing his novel before drinking himself into oblivion.
Ramakrishnan. Technical Wizard. Nature Lover. Ceaseless Questioner, with an inexhaustible interest in everything he sees or hears. Sharply Observant. Conscientious (Remembering my birthday even if I forget his). Interesting. Irritating (because he disagrees with most things I write). Hard working. Sincere. Genuine. A great friend.
Happy Belated Birthday to both of you. May you have a wonderful year ahead.
Raakesh. One of a disappearing breed of book readers who would never dream of listing Sidney Sheldon or Dan Brown as a favorite author. Who shares a passion for the written word and constantly introduces me to writers I’ve never heard of before. Who never ceases to amaze me with his literary skills. (And sometimes misleads me into thinking someone else’s poems, his own :)) Who manages to stay supremely unaffected by the ultra competitive world that is IIM-L. Whom I hope will get round to writing his novel before drinking himself into oblivion.
Ramakrishnan. Technical Wizard. Nature Lover. Ceaseless Questioner, with an inexhaustible interest in everything he sees or hears. Sharply Observant. Conscientious (Remembering my birthday even if I forget his). Interesting. Irritating (because he disagrees with most things I write). Hard working. Sincere. Genuine. A great friend.
Happy Belated Birthday to both of you. May you have a wonderful year ahead.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Unreasonable Reactions
I met a classmate again yesterday, from a long time ago. Why do some people always elicit the same reactions from you no matter how older or ‘grown-up’ you think you have become? Unreasonable reactions. Were there some invisible vibes that only I could catch and feel uncomfortable about?
An unexpected meeting this was. She had become thinner and much prettier. A trace of an accent too. But the unreasonableness welled up from within and I was left waiting to end the conversation and get back to the comfort of my friends. To people I felt secure with and didn’t feel like I was acting a part.
Was that what I was doing? For the ten years in school? Was that why I didn’t make an attempt to keep in touch with my classmates? Do we really grow up and mature? Or do we just play different parts?
An unexpected meeting this was. She had become thinner and much prettier. A trace of an accent too. But the unreasonableness welled up from within and I was left waiting to end the conversation and get back to the comfort of my friends. To people I felt secure with and didn’t feel like I was acting a part.
Was that what I was doing? For the ten years in school? Was that why I didn’t make an attempt to keep in touch with my classmates? Do we really grow up and mature? Or do we just play different parts?
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Wallowing in Nostalgia
Nostalgia is such an old people’s word, something I used to associate with people over 70. And yet I seem to be wallowing in it most of the time. My blog seems to overflow with it and I compounded the error with a three day trip to Kerala that was pure nostalgia. It’s always funny to go back to once familiar places, to feel an awkward stranger in a place that you were once part of. This trip though was something I really enjoyed. Not the wild excitement of a rollercoaster ride. More like the warm contentment that comes from a long, quiet drive.
Arriving at Coimbatore was such a relief after the never ending vastness that Chennai always seems to me. It felt good to be back to a town I knew, whose length I could cross in half an hour, where an hour’s drive would take me to the next district and most importantly where people addressed me with respect.
And then, Kerala. I had forgotten how intensely green Kerala is, especially after Tamilnadu’s dry scrub. And how pretty most of the houses are. And the number churches that lined the highway. It felt good to be back.
A friends wedding in Palakkad, where we arrived just in time for lunch but got included in the family anyway. The endless rituals, the crowd, the laughter, the noise and the confusion. It seemed like some gala family function. Only on the bus back home did it actually sink in that she was married now and would be going far away. To another country and another life. We would be lucky just to hear her voice again.
The weekend in Cochin. There are some places I love and some places I hate. Cochin I remember with affection. It was a very short 8 months that I spent there. The memories rushed back as soon as I entered the city. Shopping expeditions to mg road, ice creams on marine drive, spices in Broadway, cooking together in the kitchen, giggling bus trips, packed lunches, movies, exhibitions, laughter sessions at midnight, surprise parties, late nights spent talking. All the good things that happen while living with friends.
The place doesn’t seem to have changed at all, in the one year I have been away. But our lives have. Veered off suddenly into completely different directions, so much that we may be lucky just to meet each other again. And it was lucky, this second chance to go back, even if it was just for 2 days. We spent almost the whole time remembering those 8 months. Laughing and talking. The future was there too but as little as possible.
It was a pleasant weekend. The inescapable saree shopping and ice cream eating on MG road, dinner at the house of some friends and some sight seeing along with two other bored and irritated guys who hadn’t really changed much in a year.
I returned, happily content. Nostalgia is not really such a bad thing I think.
Arriving at Coimbatore was such a relief after the never ending vastness that Chennai always seems to me. It felt good to be back to a town I knew, whose length I could cross in half an hour, where an hour’s drive would take me to the next district and most importantly where people addressed me with respect.
And then, Kerala. I had forgotten how intensely green Kerala is, especially after Tamilnadu’s dry scrub. And how pretty most of the houses are. And the number churches that lined the highway. It felt good to be back.
A friends wedding in Palakkad, where we arrived just in time for lunch but got included in the family anyway. The endless rituals, the crowd, the laughter, the noise and the confusion. It seemed like some gala family function. Only on the bus back home did it actually sink in that she was married now and would be going far away. To another country and another life. We would be lucky just to hear her voice again.
The weekend in Cochin. There are some places I love and some places I hate. Cochin I remember with affection. It was a very short 8 months that I spent there. The memories rushed back as soon as I entered the city. Shopping expeditions to mg road, ice creams on marine drive, spices in Broadway, cooking together in the kitchen, giggling bus trips, packed lunches, movies, exhibitions, laughter sessions at midnight, surprise parties, late nights spent talking. All the good things that happen while living with friends.
The place doesn’t seem to have changed at all, in the one year I have been away. But our lives have. Veered off suddenly into completely different directions, so much that we may be lucky just to meet each other again. And it was lucky, this second chance to go back, even if it was just for 2 days. We spent almost the whole time remembering those 8 months. Laughing and talking. The future was there too but as little as possible.
It was a pleasant weekend. The inescapable saree shopping and ice cream eating on MG road, dinner at the house of some friends and some sight seeing along with two other bored and irritated guys who hadn’t really changed much in a year.
I returned, happily content. Nostalgia is not really such a bad thing I think.
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