N has passed on this so here I go...
1. I am very possessive about my immediate family and friends.
2. I can crib about my dear ones but if someone says a word against them, they are up for a fight.
3. When I was young, the prize I asked my mother to give me, when I came first in class was for a library membership.
4. I don’t rest UNTIL I finish all my work…that way, I can be called a workaholic…I just don’t relax until I am mentally free from work.
5. I am a die-hard romantic…
6. I don’t like to plan ahead, not much in advance…I am afraid to do so. I believe that God has already planned for us.
7. When we were young, my mom used to restrain us from laughing loud( she had her reasons.) and even now, when I laugh out loud, I feel guilty.
8. My husband is my first and best friend, we discuss everything and anything…I just can’t keep any secrets from him.
9. I want my kids to be with me, always, I can’t imagine them being on their own. This is one dream I can’t hold on to, I know, still…
10. I am very self critical, I need a lot of ego bolstering…
11. I yawn a lot…actually, yes; I also love to sleep a lot too.
12. I hate meeting new people…
13. I abhor change …if I could have it; I love things as they are, every day…
14. But I hate monotony too…so I am a typical Geminian…and everything depends on my moods.
15. I love movies…good family ones and I get so engrossed I live the parts along with the actors…
16. I notice everything about the way movies are made, from small nuances to cinematography…I always think of the effort that goes into the making…
17. I love the sea…I love to see the waves lashing on the land.
18. I love to just look at my kids, I feel they are beautiful…
19. I see only good things; I have yet to master the art of being a critic. But I am working at it, my job requires me to be critical and I am trying.
20. My idea of a perfect holiday is to just laze around, lie down reading a book.
21. I love to read…anytime, everytime.
22. I am very sentimental about relations but am not about stuff or belongings…
23. I used to go out of the way for friends, but now, I am prioritizing…
24. I forgive fast…
25. I love the sunshine and the wind…I love the greens and even the vacant deserts…I see beauty everywhere…
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
A Tag on Hold
This is a tag from a new blog that I have been reading...
And a simple gesture, Holding Hands and what it means ...
To me it is about Reassurance
Before I leave N's hands and let her go, I hold her hand and squeeze it tight, and it says a lot...
It says, " Molu, you might be going on your own, but I am there with you, in every step, in every thought and gesture...Be safe."
It's Love
When I hear a good song, a touching lyric, when the horizon is touched with that orange hue, when a beautiful building lines my vision, I am touched and I want to share it with my love, I hold his hands firmly, tug it and gesture with my eyes and in his eyes I see the reflection of what I feel...
It's comfort
When I go home, I love to cuddle (well, still!) with Amma, and she protests. But when we cross roads together, she holds on to me and we guide each other. Here it is comfort, b'coz even after the hurdle is crossed, we don't let go, we hold on...
It's timeless
I rememeber when I was young, my father used to put his pointer finger down and I would clutch on to it...it was all these feelings put together, love, reassurance, togetherness, comfort and even the memory of that clutch, is timeless...
So all my fellow bloggers, you are tagged...go on...hold on to this!
And a simple gesture, Holding Hands and what it means ...
To me it is about Reassurance
Before I leave N's hands and let her go, I hold her hand and squeeze it tight, and it says a lot...
It says, " Molu, you might be going on your own, but I am there with you, in every step, in every thought and gesture...Be safe."
It's Love
When I hear a good song, a touching lyric, when the horizon is touched with that orange hue, when a beautiful building lines my vision, I am touched and I want to share it with my love, I hold his hands firmly, tug it and gesture with my eyes and in his eyes I see the reflection of what I feel...
It's comfort
When I go home, I love to cuddle (well, still!) with Amma, and she protests. But when we cross roads together, she holds on to me and we guide each other. Here it is comfort, b'coz even after the hurdle is crossed, we don't let go, we hold on...
It's timeless
I rememeber when I was young, my father used to put his pointer finger down and I would clutch on to it...it was all these feelings put together, love, reassurance, togetherness, comfort and even the memory of that clutch, is timeless...
So all my fellow bloggers, you are tagged...go on...hold on to this!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Exam Fever
I am having it...THE EXAM FEVER
I am rambling in my sleep and walking around like a zombie at weird hours
Trying to make sense of the pages and notes of Media Law...
I sit, stare and scribble...
I read and mumble...
I ponder and speculate...
And then I nod off...
I shake myself, wash my face and get a cup of coffee to revive
Sit down and gulp it...
And go back to the notes...
But sleep comes back as soon as the cup is drained...
The eyelids get heavy...and drop...
To be opened yet again
I shake myself as if to ward off the evil
Make faces, smirk and sneer, cough and laugh (soundlessly) in the hopes of staying awake
But soon I am floating on a cloud...weightless, thoughtless...deliriously happy
Till K kicks me out of my beautiful reverie
And I am back at it...reading, nodding, dreaming...
Monday, February 2, 2009
Destiny
It had to be written, it is heavily weighing me down and it keeps with the mood I am in right now. I think of N's elder one, P and see a reflection of another time, another kid...another place...
It goes to show how a small incident, one moment that hits you like a storm and twists the simple life you have led, changes your destiny!
I have a small incident to recount, one that changed the course of life too…of a nine-year-old…
It was like any other Saturday. But there was a small difference. The young girl had practise sessions to attend, and her father was feeding her a favourite combination, puttu and motta. It was a weird combination (the puttu and egg combination) but one that both of them preferred, the father and the daughter.
It was a rare sight indeed, a father bonding so perfectly, but the father had dreams, big ones for his elder one, and both of them shared a perfect understanding. He explaining the fundamentals of maths and science, making studies a wholly entertaining subject for the daughter, who had already shown signs of his dreams materialising by her interest for the figures…
The father sets his child off to school and she walks to the bus-stand to go for her march past practise for a function at her school. Her heart seems heavy for no reason; it is as if she could foresee what was to happen.
She stands waiting for over 15 minutes for the bus and finally she spots the company jeep speeding her way and she waves…imagining the person behind the wheel to be either the father or their neighbour and friend Sharma Uncle, on their way to office. The jeep screeches to a stop and someone from inside gestures and asks her to get it. She does so happily, opens the door and is shocked by the scene inside.
The father is lying with his head on the moms lap and she is bending over him, crying uncontrollably. He seems to be having difficulty breathing, his eyes were dilated and he was looking at his child yet not seeing her. She shook him calling “Acha, (father)”, but he just kept looking…gazing deeply as if he could see right through her. She relentlessly tries to get her father to answer her…till they reach the hospital and then she is left alone while the attendees rush her father inside…
It seems like ages before she gets to see the mother who seems to be tired with all the crying….
The daughter asks Sharma Uncle for her Achan and he hugs her close…but doesn’t answer her question…
She finds her teachers too at the hospital and wonders whether they will be angry with her for absconding the practise sessions. She smiles apologetically and approaches them and they too hold her close…and she wonders, why this sudden affection?
She feels important with the attention bestowed on her but is puzzled too…and walks to her mother and asks her …where her father is?
The mother breaks down yet again and she is led away by friends. Now she is almost frightened to ask the same question again. She keeps quiet till the evening when they reach home(which is filled with strangers) and her mother takes her aside and explains to her that her father (at the age of 40), had a massive heart attack and has died, leaving them alone. So, her mother explains, that she is the one who has to take care of S( the 2-year-old younger sister) and be responsible, not cry, but be brave…
Life changed from then…from being a carefree child whose only dream was to make her father happy… to take on a more responsible role ( a role she didn’t quite play well)Well, that’s how destiny shapes your future…from a warm cocoon one moment to an insecure future, the other.
And reflected in this scene, I see P… and I hope she doesn’t forget to enjoy life with the weight of her responsiblities, like I did…
It goes to show how a small incident, one moment that hits you like a storm and twists the simple life you have led, changes your destiny!
I have a small incident to recount, one that changed the course of life too…of a nine-year-old…
It was like any other Saturday. But there was a small difference. The young girl had practise sessions to attend, and her father was feeding her a favourite combination, puttu and motta. It was a weird combination (the puttu and egg combination) but one that both of them preferred, the father and the daughter.
It was a rare sight indeed, a father bonding so perfectly, but the father had dreams, big ones for his elder one, and both of them shared a perfect understanding. He explaining the fundamentals of maths and science, making studies a wholly entertaining subject for the daughter, who had already shown signs of his dreams materialising by her interest for the figures…
The father sets his child off to school and she walks to the bus-stand to go for her march past practise for a function at her school. Her heart seems heavy for no reason; it is as if she could foresee what was to happen.
She stands waiting for over 15 minutes for the bus and finally she spots the company jeep speeding her way and she waves…imagining the person behind the wheel to be either the father or their neighbour and friend Sharma Uncle, on their way to office. The jeep screeches to a stop and someone from inside gestures and asks her to get it. She does so happily, opens the door and is shocked by the scene inside.
The father is lying with his head on the moms lap and she is bending over him, crying uncontrollably. He seems to be having difficulty breathing, his eyes were dilated and he was looking at his child yet not seeing her. She shook him calling “Acha, (father)”, but he just kept looking…gazing deeply as if he could see right through her. She relentlessly tries to get her father to answer her…till they reach the hospital and then she is left alone while the attendees rush her father inside…
It seems like ages before she gets to see the mother who seems to be tired with all the crying….
The daughter asks Sharma Uncle for her Achan and he hugs her close…but doesn’t answer her question…
She finds her teachers too at the hospital and wonders whether they will be angry with her for absconding the practise sessions. She smiles apologetically and approaches them and they too hold her close…and she wonders, why this sudden affection?
She feels important with the attention bestowed on her but is puzzled too…and walks to her mother and asks her …where her father is?
The mother breaks down yet again and she is led away by friends. Now she is almost frightened to ask the same question again. She keeps quiet till the evening when they reach home(which is filled with strangers) and her mother takes her aside and explains to her that her father (at the age of 40), had a massive heart attack and has died, leaving them alone. So, her mother explains, that she is the one who has to take care of S( the 2-year-old younger sister) and be responsible, not cry, but be brave…
Life changed from then…from being a carefree child whose only dream was to make her father happy… to take on a more responsible role ( a role she didn’t quite play well)Well, that’s how destiny shapes your future…from a warm cocoon one moment to an insecure future, the other.
And reflected in this scene, I see P… and I hope she doesn’t forget to enjoy life with the weight of her responsiblities, like I did…
Sunday, February 1, 2009
May God give you strength, my friend
She was the sweetest of all. Her smile lit her eyes; her laugh was loud and uninhibited. She always had friends around and I used to envy her for this trait of hers, how she mixed and mingled with all so effortlessly…
She never had a bad opinion about others, not even in jest did she laugh at others. We were part of a small gang, we three, but then N, had so many friends, outside this gang and she was never alone.
All this for two years and I left them to go on to another college but in those two years, we three had grown so close and I remember we cried when we parted ways…
Yes, we were in touch, but you know, how distance brings along changes. We used to call, but the gaps between the calls increased each year. The benefit of the net wasn’t there then and we grew further apart.
But the heart never forgets, nor did we…In our special ways, we remembered and carried beautiful memories of those carefree times, of laughing freely, of being irresponsible, of matters that were trivial…of college gossips….
Of course during our yearly visit to hometown there was a revisiting of all relationships. Last year, I spoke to her, N, and she seemed genuinely happy, after a long and tiring upheaval in life.
And now this…Her husband, I just came to know, is no more. Why, is it that she of all people has to go through this…? I think of her kids and go cold…so young and N too…
Why is God so unfair?
I think of another incident, but then that is for another time…
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