Wednesday, September 10, 2014

The first reaction to NZ

A quiet seclusion.  A writer's paradise. A wintry sun but bird songs and cold hands. 

Houses undecided of the past or of future?! with their red roofs, large glass windows and spacious lawns but erected on and built in with modern household.

A long walk unto the beautiful skyline but on perfect roads and with whizzing cars.

Modern do I call this, or old, a glimpse into the future may be even...hopefully?!

Tuesday, September 09, 2014

Posting an old draft #unknown

The simple things that I've lost to:

Digital age? 
Cognizance of depleting natural resources?
Internetization of the world? 
Smart phonization of my life?

I don't know exactly which but they have compounded to the effect of, my losing touch with the tiny, simple pleasures...or even the desire for them.

For instance...

doodling on a piece of paper (/eraser/wall/water/back of a friend - any flat surface really)

This is such a lost art to me.  This simple silly thing that usually gets us a dose of 'scolding' from a teacher/parent/even an annoyed friend in the last case... Do kids do this at school after they have been introduced to the horrors of wasting paper and/or (the horror of) addictive, immersive smartphones?

I don't know... Well you do have apps to doodle with... But eh, isn't that the point?

Reading books let alone reading books while waiting for things...

Even though I try to go back to reading books (have successfully managed to read a few) I know I don't read as many or as immersed as I used to...

My attention span has reduced clearly and my smartphone does a good job of keeping me even from starting to read. If I've got just a few mins somewhere I know carrying a smartphone is much lighter and doing something with (even reading on it) is quicker and easier to leave when I have to than if I started with a book. I know I can't just read a page and stop if I have to (and it's relatively bulky)!!  Or atleast this is how the smartphone pro part of my brain argues (and mostly wins) over the meek and shy book loving part of my brain. :(

I salute the people who still manage to read a whole lot inspite of being gadget rock stars too of which I am certainly neither... 


Monday, January 20, 2014

Personally I don't like India! But you could visit...

I am not sure why we are this way, but I see a lot if this around me in this country.  May be this is prevalent across the world but I don't know about that.  I wouldn't since I have travelled nowhere outside of my country.  Not even out to many other states within India let alone go out of the country.  But that being said I have, yes, have seen this complex.  A sort of superiority inbred inferiority complex.  Or may be the other way around?! We go around bitching about the country even though we live here, earn our money and not just survive but live here.  Some of us who do this may have travelled outside of the country, may have lived there a few years but that doesn't warrant this sort of bitching about the country to foreign nationals in the name of being friendly!!! Why do we do this?! I don't know.  It's alright when we do it among ourselves but not to outsiders.  Or is it? Is it alright, this basic thought, this shame of belonging to or living in this nation?  

I do not believe in taking pride in just the ancient history and keep talking about it all the time to all visitors.  Atleast not anymore.  But that doesn't mean you say this is one of the worst places to live in.  

It is a basic right or rather a responsibility to feel proud of the good things in ones country.  Note 'the good things'.   Why not? 

I have a few around me who travel frequently, extensively and/or regularly to different parts of the world and from all that I have read/heard I know that we are bad in some things but also good in some.  As always with any place isn't it? 

But I do think it should be ingrained in us to not bitch about the country to others let alone feel proud and share it.  It should be one of the morals taught at home along with 'stealing is wrong' or something as basic as that.  

I am not saying that we should not involve in intelligent discussion (or even as someone put it armchair debates) but please have a basic sense of patriotism or atleast hospitality.  Yes hospitality, for hospitality is not just making the guest comfortable but also feeling a sense of accountability/responsibility and/or pride towards ones place wherein the hospitality is offered.

I wish I had the guts and enough knowledge to make a sane conversation and make this co passenger in my train understand that your fake accent and half baked command over the language and the conformity that you seek by making yourself an outsider from all the bad things in your country is only going to make you be valued at much less and your country even worse (or may be the other way around) than if you behaved a good host and not bitch about your country unnecessarily even when the guest  insisted your place was good.  Or better keep quiet.  I have this strong urge or impulse to show this script to this co passenger but being a young woman traveling alone in train I do not want to risk my safety.  Yes I know this is probably making me a coward and may be even as bad as what I just wrote about but could I help it? Probably not! Time will tell.  If I act on this impulse will update this blog.

Being friendly and personally showing off (supposedly) as an outsider is an INGNOMINY and NOT a thing of pride!!! 

Tuesday, December 03, 2013

Punishment

I wanted the punishment.  I was upset about the punishment and wondered what it wud be like going through it but I was even more upset about having lost the precious little thing.  And it was not the first time I had lost similarly nor the punishment period.  Which invigorated me even more.  This time it has to be the final time.  So the punishment had to be equally severe and long so I will remember it enough to not lose again.

He was even more sad.  That I was punishing myself and he needs to just stand by and watch or even assist in the punishment by not letting me out of it.  I had begged and cried that he wud just stand by mute and watching while I go through it.

He was restless.  Every once in a while he wud try to bring up the conversation about 'enough' and try to slip me a relief. Sometimes he wud tempt me with one and test me.  After almost relishing the relief I wud quietly slip back into my resolve and go back to what I felt I needed.  May be for just some more time I wud tell myself when I really get tempted by his offers.

Then the day and the opportunity came... He had had enough.  He wanted me to shed my celibacy and have some fun.  He knew I liked what I was restraining myself from.  Once I forgot, got carried away with distraction and lost it.  Ok many times... So what life is short.  Yes he was angry too the last time.  After all it was quite something that I had lost.  But how long this state of isolation?

So when he got the replacements, it was surplus and he had a good reason to not carry it around with him now as he used to.  So he preferred the other and forced me to take this.  This time it was easier for him to convince me.  May be I was weak.  May be I had had enough.  May be it looked too beautiful to resist.  And the promise it had even as I gazed at it.

I knew this time I wud be more careful.  May be I wud guard it too much.  

So hesitantly I put on this white and new design of a earphones that he gave me.  Took a deep breath and pressed clicked on play without going to the music app.  I js wanted to feel the rush of whatever it played... After all it was after so long...

Rahman's one of the most simple and beautiful composition played through --- maanooththu mandaiyila maangutti petha maiyile --- it filled me up... as the song filled my heart through my ears!!!

The wonderful voice and almost acting modulation sand emote of SPB brought a smile and I did not care that I was in the bus.

It was worth it! And thank you Suresh for tempting me to take it.  It was worth the sinful way my heart rejoiced in the song!!! 

P.S.  I couldn't help the exaggeration. :P Been long since took to the pen so forgive me... ;)

Saturday, July 27, 2013

The little old lady that made me happy!

It's after a long time that I have been moved and overwhelmed in real life, in person; not one of those videos or those blogs or those news articles or those tweets or Facebook uploads...

Today I met an old lady. She cud have been anywhere between 75 and a 100 years old.  She was going about her life with so much acceptance, such innocense (and even a sense of humour I later saw) inspite of all the worldly problems of health, wealth and well, life as such.

She was almost hunch backed, about 3ft tall, had the early spurt of hair growth on her head, that follows a tonsure, a dirty gown on that covered her dutifully from neck to ankle, a dirty cloth bag of her few belongings or may be those that she needed for her business whatever it was. She walked a straight path on the busy main road, her eyes on the ground, not the slightest intention on her (evident from her body language) to even seek physical help, let alone stretch her small puny arms for alms, to the plenty of people walking around her, definitely in a much better state in life.

As I crossed her, I cud barely control the reflex to turn around and look at her properly, not just the outline I caught as I overtook her in pace.  My angel and demon were swiftly engaged in the battle of morality, of dharma and the practicality of my real life.

As I reached the bus stop to take the connecting bus, I (like the child we all are within) told myself that I wud wait and see if she wud head my way and if so I would give her a small sum that wud appease both the angel and the demon or atleast strike a compromise while they found new arguments as to wanting and not wanting the lady to head my way and debating over how useful or laughable the sum I had decided upon to give away was.

I had already extracted the money from the attic of a bag I had and was ready when the angel's wish won. The lady walked right into my way.

As I approached her she broke into such an innocent and infectious smile that I was surprised.  The battles that were waging inside me until that very moment I approached her were quelled, more like the demon was dumbstruck.

As I inserted the currency notes into her ( really small) palm she paused to squint at the notes and then gave it back to me with a half mute vocabulary and said 'kapde' (clothes). She tried showing me something with 5 of her fingers that I initially did not understand.  I told her to keep the money, mustered a warm and guilty smile and walked away.  To my surprise she walked to the bus stop and approached me.  She again tried giving the money back and explaining that she needed clothes making the 5 finger gesture.  Then it stuck me, or atleast the most I cud make out of it - I extracted some more from my purse hastily and gave her a relatively larger sum.  I told her not 'Khana milega' (you'll get food with this) this time but 'kapde milenge' (you'll get cloth with this), with a reltively less guiltier heart and a more satisfied smile.  I rushed towards the bus that approached while I felt all the eyes that were earlier watching us, slowly leave and the woman followed and got into the bus too.

For a second I thought she was following me but realised that she actually was travelling in the same direction.  I was not sure if my heart was happy or my ego unhappy.  I even thought may be I just got fooled and I wanted to walk away, into a corner, not wanting to look at anyone that might recognise me from the curious exchange or especially the lady.  For I was sad to leave her clinging to the support pole while a young fellow gave me the 'ladies seat' that he was occupying until then.

As the driver and conductor started laughing and having a jovial conversation with/about her or probably js couldn't help smiling at the innocent expressions of the sorry little creature to whom they tried demanding the ticket fare while she half mutely joked back giving them imaginary coins from thin her.  I was watching every word uttered with a beating heart, every eye on her that was curious or mocking, made me want to get up and pay the ticket fare.  But the demon had had enough. Angel was making feeble attempts.  As I realised that the diver and conductor were merely having good natured fun and did not expect to get anything from her, I relaxed and let go of the idealist in me that had decided to hail the conductor (as inconspicuously as possible) and pay him her bus fare.

When I saw her alight from the bus on her own accord at her destination, I breathed a sigh of relief
and told myself that she is going to walk 'home' as safely as she had travelled so far.


Then I started marvelling in earnest at the astonishing strength and happiness showed by this frail child of an old lady.

I wished I had given her a hug, that I had taken her home with me, given her good shelter for the night, a square meal of food and the love of a daughter or granddaughter; like the scores of people who are currently doing this for thousands of people across various cities everyday without expecting anything in return.

I wished I had given her the big bar of chocolate in my bag and as I thought this it also crossed me that it cud even have been adverse to her if she had diabetes.  Then the irony stuck me. The irony and cynicism of human nature that doesn't really let us move beyond our limits as a 'practical person'.

Well this was a small portion of just what I cud do.  May be one random day when I cud.
If I were asked to spend all of my earnings in such deeds or even just a significant amount monthly for these people (as those many many noble hearts are doing), I wouldn't be able to.

This was just a lucky day for me, probably a celebration for a dear ones birthday that wud be here in one day.

But this also saddened me, for this was also the dark irony. For I had expected people to have noticed.  This consciousness had embarrassed me causing me to seat myself into a corner.  I had thought about how they wud have perceived me.  May be I am js a pious Muslim doing her duty during the month of ramzan (for I did have a costume similar on) - though a duty no less nobler - but still done because you are supposed to.

I was saddened at these thoughts that had crossed my mind.  I tried to dispel it by thinking how nothing  matters - how people perceived,  whether or not they even noticed.  At the end of the day it made me happy, moved me and made me smile.  Then it was touché, the angel smiled at the demon.
I recalled phoebe and F.R.I.E.N.D.S.  Accepting this innate human pride or whatever that was was more graceful than I had thought. All that mattered was I have done something to help someone and in the process made atleast two people - the lady and myself.

I walked the rest of the way home with a slight spring in  my steps, blessing the little lady's soul.



Wednesday, July 03, 2013

Hard Love...

Love is a lot of hard work made to look easy... with a smile or a touch or a word or a thought be it real or imagined! 

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

தவறு செய்யத்தூண்டும்

மறுமுறை தவறு செய்யத்தூண்டும் உன் மன்னிப்பு முத்தங்கள்...