Up in the sky

But strew his ashes to the wind
Whose sword or voice has served mankind,—
And is he dead, whose glorious mind      
Lifts thine on high?—
To live in hearts we leave behind     

   Is not to die. 
(Hallowed ground. Thomas Campbell)


I visited a relative's house after few days of funeral at their place. Seemed like the house has turned normal, after few days of mourning. The one who has left them all seemed to be old but a healthy man. The death was a shock, the age wasn’t. you get that ? coffee was served. Conversations took a boring phase and so that is the time we had to leave. When I lift up my head after wearing my slip-ons, my eyes met the name board of this person who had left for once. I mean he is no way closer to me, just an acquaintance. But something hit me and I sit to write this.

1

We are born, we live and we leave. This is the only most sure of things that we know. The time we live and how we live is all up to uncertain plans and that's the spice. We all have thought at least once by now- what happens to people after they die? We should have thought they will come around as a ghost or probably be playing around in heaven or be reborn somewhere or the most practical thing we will come up with is that they are dead and there is no aftermath. Okay! Leave what happens to them. What happens to us after a person leaves? We get some sweet sadness when ever we think of them. Right? The ratio and flavor of sweet and sad is depending on how close the person is to you and the roll they played in your life. For example, I remember seeing a dead person on the road who freshly met with an accident. I still have this picture in my head. When I think of it I feel a little tinge of sadness, no sweetness. When I think of my dead grandma, I have more of fresh sweetness and little sadness.

I also remember a sweet lady, mother of my good friend. She is one of such headstrong-lovable-mom-determined-focused woman I met. All she wanted was a great life to her daughters. I know those daughters personally and the impact reflects. She owned me a little too. When I went to her funeral, I wasn’t emotionally broken or sad but I started shivering in denying to accept she is gone. I felt like shaking her up and saying “okay now get up and be back to normal”. I was no where emotionally connected to her nor her loss puts a dent in my life but I simply could not accept. If I think of her, there is little sweetness, even little sadness but a lot of void that I could feel.

My dad used to share about a Brahmin lady who cooks so well and was so kind to him in his childhood days. She lived in his neighbourhood. He moved to different place, no contact and I am sure she is too old to be alive anymore. But my dad talks about her at least once in six months, quoting some incident or memory he shares with her.

Now I am sitting in a cafe and when I look around this people busily scuffle, gulp, chat or type, they all have some set of people in their mind for sure, who aren't alive now. May be as close as their mother or as random as a poor old man begging on the street long back. They will surely remember them with some mixture of sweetness and sadness. Whatever happens to a person after she or he is dead and gone, something surely affects their surroundings for sure. The impact they leave. Even the most insignificant person on earth will remain in someones memory. Isn't this beautiful?

The tree they watered once is still alive, the recipe in that piece of paper is still a dread-saver, the story they said still makes sense. Musing about this was a rich yet peaceful feeling. I thought it would be good if I registered it in words.

By the way, have you ever sat gaping at the sky, thinking of the person who left you?

Banana Beer.

I  was all geared up for the meet up. It should happen this evening, a meeting with one good friend of mine. With the freshly brewed banana beer on the table and some chicken wings, listening to Sean Paul, I was glancing the pub door way every minute. From a lost man, today I am sitting here enjoying some girls giving stares at me. My friend arrived ordering for a stronger beer on his way. 

“Then matcha! Why in such a hurry to meet me? You don’t even pick my call otherwise.”
I replied, “Bro! You don’t hang on to 'sensible' friends untill you really need them.”
“Now should l be happy or…” He dragged.
“Be whatever! But listen to me. I am in SOS.”
“Tell me Da. I am all ears.” He came forward, closer to me.
“Matcha! You know how much I love my wife. No!?”
“No!?” he blasted into a loud laugh. This is why I come back to him everytime. He makes it all look so cool. No drama, no cheese, no butter. Just practical.
“Dude pls! I am mad about her. I just made her the fenrervof my world. But recently I have reckoned that she is all back in track with her old boyfriend.”
“Wait whaaaaa? You said things were cool between you guys.” He was sure 
“Ba**** it was. I don’t know, though I love her so much, we have never met a middle ground. By time, I find her so selfish. She just enjoys all my love and attention but chooses him over me. Every. Single. Time.”
“Hey! Affair or something? Are they cheating around?” He got serious.
“Aye! I don’t think so, or I don’t even care. But she just chooses him, may be emotionally…” I tried to explain.
“Man! Wake up! Then what’s your problem? Must be friendship. You gotta chill.” He lost his cool.
“You know me dude! Do I seem like a guy who has problems with a good friendship? Come on. You had known me all my life.”
“That’s exactly why I am shocked. What’s bothering you Da!? “ he put his arms around me. The shitty beer he had had a rotten smell. But I still felt good. Friends arms are always a magic.

Meanwhile, my music app’s shuffle mode chose 'We don’t talk anymore' for some reason.

“Dah! See I love her a lot. I understand friendship and all that. For a fact that I too have a handful of close friends. But when a person you love is emotionally available for someone, misses them around, needs them for every solution of life, too available for them, can’t go a day without them and you become just a 'duty', it kinda hurts matcha! Too small to give up. Too big to digest. This is my problem. And it’s becoming a blame game every day.” I poured out gulping my last sip of beer.
“Matcha! I understand. But can I ask you something. Do you think you can control whatever that’s happening around you? The more you start controlling things around you the more are the chances of you getting disappointed. The only thing you can ever control is you, yourself. When you can’t control the circumstances, control yourself. Don’t be a circumstantial victim, be a wise man. There is a lot of difference.” He was still with his half filled beer mug.
The pub was vibrating with Pharrell Williams’ 'Happy'.
He continued,
“Do you love her ?”
“Yes. A lot.”
“Can you live without her or choose otherwise?”
“Never.”
“You think you are doing a mistake?”
“Not at all.”
“You like being sad like this and doing small talks?”
“No. It’s freaking so annoying.”
“Exactly. Then why should you be sad!?” he paused.
I did not understand a thing but did realise something.
He continued.
“Take control of your life matcha and eventually, yourself. I know for sometime it’s hard but try and shift your focus. This is what people do. Loosing themselves in the name of love. Accept moments as it flows. Be very sure that you don’t let in anything that makes you a victim. Be responsible. Selfless love should only make you stronger and accepting will only liberate you. Love her the way you do. But remember you love her because you love yourself a lot.  Make 'happy' your high. Bingo! And always search happiness in a place you are sure of finding it. Ya!?”

How practical and simple this man thinks. 
This half a page Gyan or the banana beer or those songs, I don’t know what exactly but something made me feel so light and confident. I know for sure shot! I am going to feel this way, forever. 

“Ahh! Cut that overthinking. Now sit and muse later. I know you are going to be better.”
Friends just knew it. Always.
“One more beer?! By the way that red top in third table is staring at you since I came in.” he tickled me.
“Where? Who dah!?” I grinned in shy.
“Matcha aye! As if….”

The rest is history.

Be born!

Sitting in a cafe, all alone with a a-never-before silence she began to muse. okay! 'Two years in this city and the place still looks alien to me. I am never able to find that connection with these streets and buildings. Forget people!'

Scrolling through the call log, she found no one who she could count on. There are a couple of well wishers who always got her back and her parents. She dint want to disturb them for some reason. This phase of her life has been terrible. I don't wanna go ahead and pour out all that happened to  her. Because, I believe life is a battle and everyone has got their own.

She did not escape in any way. May be untill certain point of life she did not take problem as a problem. Hence, she is a way too grown up, child! A little insanity that everyone posses and she was called a psycho!

Well, this all is absolutely unnecessary. I will share with you the outcome of her realisations in the process of recovering a heart wreck. You might feel it's a cliche or boring, or maybe, helpful!

One, never prioritise someone else above you. Everyone has themselves to take care and if they still got your back, well and good. Otherwise, be your first priority. In that way you'll know how to search happiness in yourself. This doesn't make you any selfish or lead you to deem others. Dare to be your own priority.If you don't think you are giving up on your moral values, do anything that makes you happy. And that is the 'daring' I mentioned.

Two, if you are going through a bad phase, at any point of life, remember one thing, it shall be there only for ten days. Hang on. After that, you'll have better problems to solve, get a different perspective or may be you may get happier to get all sad again. Anything stands only for 10 days. Then your current confusion might seem so small to attend.

Third, at any point of life, never take anything that tests your self-respect. We often get geared up to loose our self respect when we are emotionally weak. Never allow that to happen. By doing so you'll eventually loose yourself.

Four, never run back to something that shattered you. A situation, a place or a person, whichever be it. If you cannot avoid being physically engaged, try to mentally move on. Be mindful. In this damn world, where next minute of you breathing is uncertain, never run behind the momentery feelings. Let it engulf you, soak in it and pass on. If it is not making you happy, then move on. It takes a huge effort but liberates you incredibly.

Finally, always remember, every little problem is making you a little stronger. You will never be the same again. If any situation makes you feel the weakest, that is when you are getting stronger. Who doesn't like it after all. Learn the art of enjoying this process.

Also never think you don't love yourself. If you are able to feel self-pity or inferior, you are already loving yourself more than normal. Choose the way you love yourself. Make it constructive. Shine like a queen.

Keep smiling:) 

The Moon Thing.

சந்திரமதி.

பசைக் குழந்தை யடி – கண்ணிற்

பாவை யடி சந்திரமதி!

இச்சைக் கினிய மது – என்தன்

இருவிழிக்கு தே நிலவு;

நச்சுத்தலை பாம்புக் குள்ளே – நல்ல

நாகமணி யுள்ளதென்பார்;

துச்சுப் படு நெஞ்சி லே – நின் தன்

சோதி வளரு தடீ!

பேச்சுக் கிடமே தடி! – நீ

பெங்குலத்தின் வெற்றியடி!

ஆச்சர்ய மாயை யடி – எந்தன்

ஆசை குமரி யடி!

நீச்சு நிலை கடந்த – வெள்ள

நீருக் குள்ளே வீழ்ந்தவர் போல்,

தீச்சுடரை வென்ற வொளி – கொண்ட

தேவி! நினை விழந்தேனடி

நீலக் கடலினிலே – நின்தன்

நீண்ட குழல் தோன்றுதடி!

கோல மதியினி லே – நின்தன்

குளிர்ந்த முகங் காணுதடி!

ஞால வெளியினிலே – நின்தன்

ஞான வொளி வீசுதடி!

கால நடையினி லே – நின்தன்

காதல் விளங்குதடி!

Translation:

You with a little child’s heart – A

young lady to see, O moon!

A seductive wine – you are like,

honey dipped moon to my eyes!

Within the venomous snake head – remains

the lovely precious gem,

In the mean heart of mine – your light grows!

What Shall I say – you are the victory

of woman kind!

You are a surprising magic – my

lovable lady!

Like someone jumps – Into the

gushing flood

I lost my mind – in the glow!

In the deep blue sea – I see your

long freckles

In the beautiful moon – I see

your cool face!

In the wide spread earth – Spreads

your wise enlightenment!

Through the time – I understand

your love!

The moon thing.

   Sitting here at my desk, I watch all these perfumed people, smiling in the most unnatural way they can. This has become almost like my hobby, observing people and their way of being. I don’t know if I am rightly called “the eccentric” black sheep out of the whole cluster. But I love black!

  Getting ready, commute, cubicle, work, coffee, work, cubicle, commute, my room…This is my routine. My routine has never bored me! I love living in the presence and just be. A brain that never thinks of anything from the past or future. What more can I ask from the Almighty. So, I never pray! Weekends are to do my laundry and to curl up with books.

  On a normal working day, I was breaking my head on a project. She called me from the next cubicle…

“Hey Hi! New year party is up!”

“oh! Ya!” I didn’t divert my eyes from the monitor.

“We are planning to have fun this evening, parties, dinner, dance…Would you…”

“So?” I said looking at her!

“No, just thought you would join. It’ll be fun ya!”

“No, Thanks!” I said stern and firm.

“Oh my God! That was rude! Too rude for a handsome guy like you.”

I started staring at my monitor again.

The group next to me giggled. Voices went on saying (in local language),

“Avana poi yen kupta?” (Why did you call him?)

“Avaney oru madhiri” (He is eccentric)

“Loosuku friends eh irukadha?” (this mad fellow won’t have any friends?)

“Edho paaka konjam nalla irkan...aanaa psycho” (he looks good but a psycho)

“unakulam kalyanam aitalum” (he will never get married)

And the giggles continued. This is so usual to me but weirdly it never disturbs me! I feel good for the ability to be the way I am!

(M.S: if you expected a cheery conversation when she called me, Sorry! I am not that type! Thank you!)

New Year’s Eve! At my terrace with a steaming hot chocolate, I was gazing at the sky. I do this often and call it love making! So, if you ask me if I ever had sex? No. If I had made love? A big yes.

Moon was my only companion from my childhood. For me she is a girl. My girl. I always feel I have already owned her. Moon as a girl! My girl! I am already in love. To fall in love with a girl and call her Moon? That sounds so detached to me. I fell in love with this Moon and call her my girl. My one and only girl.

She is so beautiful, she has sorted many of my mental blocks. She has given me best of the advices. Her majestic beauty has always taken me! She got me totally! This peace and warmth, I can never imagine getting this from a human. So, if you ask me, Will I fall in love with a girl who makes me feel the same way?! My answer is I am already in love!

Why I am telling you all this by the way? To tell you not to disturb me and to explain you why.

GooodBye!

Easy Chair!

காணி நிலம் வேண்டும்.

காணி நிலம் வேண்டும் – பராசக்தி

கானி நிலம் வேண்டும் – அங்கு

தூணில் அழகியதாய் –  நன்மாடங்கள்

துய்ய நிறத்தினதாய் – அந்தக்

காணி நிலத்திடையே – ஓர் மாளிகை

கட்டித் தரவேணும் – அங்கு

கேணி யருகினிலே - தென்னைமரம் 

கீற்று மிளநீரும்……

 _Subramania Bharathi

Translation: -

I need a piece of land - Goddess Shakthi

I need a piece of land – There,

With beautiful pillars – Goodness of

colourful rooms – I need a

lovely house to be built in 

that piece of land – There again,

A well and beside that should be

a coconut tree with its leaf streaks…

Easy Chair!

Little Ammaiappan loves spending time with his grandfather during his holidays back then. Sitting besides his grandfathe's easy chair and listening to him was his only  chore. Just being. Like of us, he use to love spending time at his Granny’s. That big breezy house amidst bees in that vast land serving sight of butterflies and birds for breakfast, stars and breeze for dinner. Spending the most memorable time of his child hood at his village, Ammaiappan just had one dream in his life, that is to build a copy of this house somewhere in future and spend the rest of his life there.

        When Ammaiappan was in his 50’s he could only save money for a miniature model of his dream house. Finishing the duty of aiding his daughter’s graduation, looking forward to her wedding and his wife’s medical expenses, he could only imagine a decent livelihood in the crazy city he lived. You know in life, many times, the dreams and needs of our loved ones are met only by swallowing our dreams and needs.

In his 60’s, the only fortunate thing he had was his good health. His daughter was married to abroad. His wife was ailing, and his provisional store has lost all its crowd and charm. One evening pondering upon a self-made tea, his thoughts got him anxious. After running for so many years without rest, ticking so many milestones, earning so much money, he couldn’t fulfill his one simple dream. Then something got him excited. A whim of a moment. Just like this self-made tea, this self-made man is also eligible to be prepared at any instance, afresh, without someone’s help. This time he began to run a race for himself. He risked his new business, modifying his provisional stores. Failures, misfortunes and retarded energy made this a very tough journey. But, he was so focused on his only dream that nothing hindered his view. You know sometimes, when your only desire is to taste a fruit, you will never remember how hard it was to peel its skin.

       Now at 75, today, he has just sent off all his guests after his house warming ceremony. I mean the guests were hardly 5 friends. His wife stayed inside a photo frame and his daughter barely calls him, forget how excited she was about his fulfilling dream. After everyone left, he felt a joy that has never got him in these many years. The replica of his grandfather’s house in the outskirts of the city is his own now. With his joyous heart and flooding memories, he reclines in the easy chair recollecting his childhood memoirs and smiles to close his eyes not realizing his last sleep.

Now tell me, is he fortunate or unfortunate?

The Delivery day !

The Delivery Day!

(The delivery, surgery, embarrassment and all that)

Warning: Not a comfortable content for expectant mommies.

I have no idea how many of you would have experienced what follows. But, I will pen it down in the simplest way possible, forget vocabulary! Have you ever undergone a surgery? Ever experienced the pre and post effects of the terrorizing minutes of surgery?

           Well, I am a new mom who had to take a C-section surgery because my little one was too playful that she wound the umbilical cord all around her. That day! That day was the most “couldn’t find a word” day of my life. Not in a pleasing tone. Like all expectant mothers at 38th week of pregnancy, I went to bed with heart filled dreams and palpitations anticipating delivery any minute of the day. That night was a little special as I took a long stroll with my dad after quite a long time. Then I went to bed, needless of any alarm set because i hardly get some sleep. The next day morning exactly by 6’o clock when I got up to empty my bladder, I heard someone clap so hard from my Vagina. Oh! That’s one spooky feeling. As an over read precautious mom-to-be, I realized my water bag broke. Water started dripping along my legs. A gush of mixed emotions took over me. I called my mom and dad and for a moment I felt this has happened to no other girl but just me! Bathing, prayers, packing and rushing towards the hospital’s emergency ward we were all excited in every way. It was a government holiday. Spoiling the holiday mood of ward-helpers there, I was the first patient for the day.

       They brought a wheel chair and I was taken to the next floor into the labour room. My mom and dad were in cloud nine, following me! I was all confused as to “why a wheel chair?” (Later I got to know). All the passers by gave a look at me. Some smiles, some not so good stares, some just gazed in lost thought. Altogether it was an embarrassing moment – (1). I number this one because there are a lot to come. I don’t know why we could never hold us back from doing this. Sad curious human mind. At the labor room, with empty stomach, I was given a dull purple colored gown. I was made to rest on a bed with long limbs. My mom besides me, everything seemed so cool and I was mentally preparing myself for the process, calling hanuman for help.

       Then began the cascade of embarrassing and terrorizing moments. My legs were spread, and my vagina was made a show piece for all the visiting doctors(2). Bright light was illuminating my lower half. Eshwaraaaa! I felt so helpless and i even did regret that romantic night with my husband. You know one’s personal hygiene would not be impeccably great during pregnancy (at least not mine!). There were male and female intrusions and timely finger examinations to check if the baby’s head was fixed(3). Urgh! It was so painful.

       Then came the procedure of inducing pain. A solution was passed into my body through by tripping. I started feeling contractions in regular intervals. It was a concentrated version of period cramps that went on and on for some two hours. These hospital people including doctors have a special talent of doing so many things to our body, extracting details from us   and not telling a pinch of what’s happening to us. You will be like “Come on you fools! This is my body! My life…. give me some f'g information on what’s going on!”.

(Click over the image for better quality)

       
Everyone around you would speak a familiar language but you wouldn’t understand a thing. I was already imagining labor process from Indian cinemas and preparing my facial muscles for reactions, mandatory you see! The twist happened then. My gynecologist entered the room and alerted the whole story declaring that the baby was in distress due to the umbilical cord that wound its neck. She told me in gibberish that I will be taken to operation theatre now, crashing all my dreams on normal labor.

       To me it was life crashing, mind depressing, soul stirring moment, but everyone around me seemed so casual. Two huge ladies came with a stretcher and lifted me up to take me to the OT(operation theatre). The doctor was commenting on the nurse’s extra make-up on her face ,not realizing my day has turned black. Knife! Blood! Injections. Oh please!

With the stressed heart, slid on a stretcher, hearing those ladies’ family gossips, I reached the OT in the tenth minute. (Thanks to my mom who managed to be beside me, until that it felt so soothing!). I guessed it would take an era now to finish all the procedures. I felt like an orphan once I reached OT all surrounded by people I never know(knew!). I was undressed, folded from head to toe and phewwww! I got an injection at my spine at the most unexpected time from a male doctor! Not so cool for an overly orthodox lady like me! (4)

Snap, next minute I am on the bed. Snap! Doctor announced my operation, Snap! I sense something weird in my senseless abdomen, Snap! I feel my stomach unpacked. Snap! something releases, Snap! I hear my baby cry. I trust Indian Cinemas here! The moment I heard this I felt an inexplicable glee at once, my baby! Forgetting everything for a moment, the common excitement of knowing the gender caught me. It’s a baby girl. And I saw her!! With all the struggles of mine, she ended up looking all like her father. Meh! She was then taken for her first bath.

After realizing the world around me, I felt everything inside me was hollow. Hunger hit me like I was starved for an era. The nurse beside me said I would not eat for the next six hours. The glee melted like ghee and I wanted to cry out in (hu)anger. Then started the suture phase. Sticking my flesh together. You know what! Doctors gossip a lot! Gossips were the only food to my empty stomach and aching soul. How experienced they could be if they can discuss about some person casually while stitching a human flesh. Amazing! *Slow claps*

       Soon I was shifted to recovery room. Believe me or not! That moment I wanted to meet my mom rather than my baby. My lower half was completely senseless. Was not able to move a bit. I was not covered so well, I mean exposure might not always have a modern tint. Strangers passing by all around in uniform I felt like an item dancer on first day shoot. They all seemed so happy but so irritated to serve me. This checked my temper. I felt helpless. Unless you dig their soul out, they would never tell you, what’s happening to you and when the hell would you get out of that room. Around me where people from all ages, lying helpless just as me.

      Those nurses will never address you by your name. For a while, your name will be 301 or some random number or simply ‘cesarean’. Uh! Whatta cool name! *churn*

       After hours of gazing at the soulless surrounding, I was able to move my legs and hip with great pain but all I wanted was to get out of that place. Then my savior came in  green uniform and announced that I can be shifted to the room again. The ladies in green saree took me to the place where my mom was, again gossiping all the way. Sigh of relief! I am alive and out. Not an orphan anymore.

        Because I was a kid who grew up watching Indian cinema which romanticizes even the relationship between pee and poop, I had a totally different idea about delivery. I now know it’s a huge myth. After all this struggle, I realized why this word “mother” gets the respect it gets from the day one.

P.S: - It was purely the outcome of my experience and emotion. It might not match everyone or anyone.

                                                                              Thank you!!

      

pRoem!!

if coffee bruised!

Sip one, hot shock!
Sip two, lip cut!
Sip three, drenched in blood!
Sip four, blood dried soul!
Sip five, gone in air!

if coffee bruised?
Drink and die and drink and die.

Kiss the stars,
Kiss the goblet,
Kiss the Sun,
Kiss the dragon,
Kiss THAT love!

if kisses bruised?
Drink and die and drink and die.

And drink!

When love is wild,
Be a child. <3

The Fight Flood.

SHE WROTE:

Love,
When the morning dawned, my heart pumped fast,
When my hair tresses touched my lips,
When the breeze kissed my breasts,
I know the night was waiting for us,
All that romantic stars gazing at!

My soul was thirsty for your voice.

Oh! a storm now.
You called it or I caused it,
The wait was shattered.
Rolling down it was you and me.
The lips talked and not kissed.

Through the lips, heart opened too.

Hearts spoke, more and more, fire and fierce.
Romance rippled to rage, tears gushed to save!

Love,
Kisses have thousand nights,
Knowing your heart through fights,
Precious as my glistening soul,
I fought to love you more.

Heart pulsed faster,
You are my heart itself.
Waiting and missing the moment of Romance,
Which will never come twice
The morning dawned again!

SHE WROTE.