So, today …

… bang in the middle of the day
I wait for those words, lurking
Just there. Just there.
Where I cannot reach.

They came, with the waking moment.
That moment, when you are, and you aren’t.
That moment, when clarity strikes.
And fuzzy warmth of slow recognition
Mists over.

I reached out. Too late…
Like petulant children, they shied away.
That moment is when they wanted me.
Not two ticks later.

So here, in the middle of the day
I sit. I yearn. I plead. I know though
They won’t surface now.
I also know when they will.

Not now. But at that moment,
When I turn away, peeking like those
Perky persistently playful creatures they are.
Not words. Not anymore.

They’ve grown beyond that
Into a yearning. Into a secret pleasure.

I don’t know the story yet.
Or the ending.
All I have, are these tingles
These feathery-touch-me-softly promises
From them.

They’ll come.
They’d better.

… They ought to.

They will, won’t they?

14 February, 2013

Google images brought me to this pic. … from this place:

http://clairemca.wordpress.com/2012/05/07/a-love-of-words-and-music/

The picture belongs to its creator there.

Implosion

Why is it that the heavy heart

Never slows down, despite my willing it?

Why does that indefinable, infinitesimal

Infernal lump in my throat still allow me to breathe?

Why, even when I drown in self inflicted silence,

Do words impinge, float, escape, and express themselves?

Even as my heart, my soul curl themselves back

Into the fetal form, closing themselves

Turning inward, why do I still go on

And move, and find myself open

Vulnerable

 

Why cannot I let that period define

And close a labouring life?

Curl my whole self, tightly

Airlessly, compacting myself

Implode, to that zing.

 

Pulling the plug, within.

 

26 April, 2012

Worded

A piquant thought nudges me-
As to
Why words topple into me
When the clocks tick midnightwards.
Perhaps they’re tired of hanging out of reach
And think I might just not notice
As they slither down the thought strings?
And so with eyes dry drowned in midnight oil
I grab them, before they squirm out of reach!
Only to array them before me
And wonder, suddenly, where all the magic did go

I should have left them be.
Sigh.

28 February, 2012

Blessed!

*This one is for the SB… who makes me realize each day, how much more I have to learn, appreciate, and love Thanks a zillion, sweetheart

Now that I am officially twenty-five years old, the X-files option to disclose is finally here!

By the way, why does to reveal have a word like “disclose”, to express it? Strange are the ways of the English Language! This will further get me into rambling about the vagaries of a favourite language of mine, so I had better stop before I start!

Ah! You’re still here, and reading? Maybe you’re wondering what on earth I am going to disclose… Just a status message on Facebook, by the SB wishing his brother a Happy Birthday, that goes like this

Happy b’day Arjun Muralidharan on ur 25th It was nice growing up with someone like you, – someone to lean on, someone to count on… someone to tell on! Hav a great yeah ahead!!

And his response?

Thanks bro.. wat do i say.. cudn hav done it without you. All those years, those games, those rides.. seems like it was yesterday and i sure do wish like hell it will remain like that forever. Though i shud say, i hate it wen u keep growing up.. i always wish ud remain “chotu” Love u loads.. BRO

I am reminded of the song, from Ram Lakhan, “Mere Do Anmol Ratan”, that I love so much.

That’s them…

And what I feel most blessed is that the SB has found words, to express so beautifully his feelings! Prouder yet again, am I, of him , for he has borne the brunt of many a dark day I have gone through, being there for me, always, but always… And though we fight the hardest, , I know he will be the one who will pull me through the fires I burn in

Ash You’re the coolest, most happening person, ever Thank you, for you

And though I don’t need to say it… Love you…

13 April, 2010

I am twenty-five… :D!

What a liar! How can she go public with such a blatant untruth?!

Pssst… well, when you think of it, do you think…? Naah! How the heck?

Lol! The moment those familiar with this space read this blog post title, these must have been the thoughts that flitted through their minds? I’m just double-guessing, but I guess I probably would too… !

Well truth be told, this is true, you know. Maa kasam! (Pun intended – you’ll figure out the pun soon enough! ) I wrote about the first of the twenty-five birthdays on this very space, about a year ago. In fact that post still holds the record of the highest number of hits for a post, ever, on Overdrive . I loved writing it, and also, this one, on A Quest, the other blog I am at

By now, hopefully, the truth of the title will have been accepted without doubt! I wanted to share this here, and today, because the FB has gone public on Facebook about this very event! (FB as in First Born, please note )

The Sun Child write is very special one, for it worked magic It was written years before the FB was born, and at that time, even the thought of marriage was far from my mind ! The magic is that he turned out exactly the way I describe My Sun Child… not at all fussy, gregarious, pet lover, still dreamy… Each time I read it, I am amazed at the way things turned out! He is an Arien, a Sun Child too!

He celebrated the occasion with his friends on Marine Drive, cake cutting and smashin and sploshing on his face… why they do this is beyond me, still! !

We, ie the SB and I celebrated too. We baked chocolate cakes and made it into a Black Forest (or so I like to call it… )… complete with whipped cream and cherries.. though we forgot the chocolate shavings… Here’s how it happened:

Two chocolate cakes baked in a pressure cooker

Layered over each other, and slathered with whipped cream, on an overturned steel plate

Piping around the edges with Mehendi cone like apparatus made out of plastic covers, for lack of the real things !

More decorations… and finally…..

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARJUN!!!!

Now you will perhaps agree the blog post is not lying

12 April, 2010

Random Rambles (so what is new, anyway?? :P) on Being a Mother…

Finally. Lol.

I wonder though how many times I am going to be saying that over and over again. Running away, then returning. Highly irresponsible behaviour indeed, but then well, if you were to ask me, I should reply very honestly. Guilty as charged. There is also this sense of revelling in such behaviour of late. Perhaps I am now growing up Whatever and however, I am back, most of me ie. With a lull in the work sphere, a breather is here, for a week or two, when I shall indulge in soaking in the blogosphere again. Thank you , dear friends for all your wishes, and for dropping in even when there was no new word here So what now, I asked myself. And fell back on some homework given a long time ago, by IHM…who had  once upon a long time ago asked me to share my thoughts on being a mother.

So here goes:

Being a mother is discovering limitless patience, something you trashed, when you were a child.

Being a mother is being impatient with those who cannot smile, at a child.

Being amother is being happy and proud, sad and angry, all at once, when your little one comes home, having ridden his bicycle on his own, the first time, had a crash too, messed himself up, cut his brow, dripping blood, and hooting all the way to the clinic where they don’t let you hold his hand while they stitch him up, and he knowing that, ensures his six year self will not make a sound…

Being a mother is not sleeping for nights on end, being bleary eyed, red rimmed around the eyes,  and yet fresh as a daisy, energetic enough to stroll to the park when your offspring finally breaks his fever and wants “out”!

Being a mother is knowing you will worry, always; but will never share that worry, and keep it a guarded secret, which you later discover is quite an open secret.

Being a mother is saying how much you love your kids by getting angry with them, and then, what the heck, telling them anyway!

It is a proud moment being amother, theirs, when they take you around, young stripping lads, pillion riding on their new bikes, and better yet, proud sons, riding pillion behind their mother! Thank you guys, I know I’ll never live that one down!

Being amother, is something you will never grow out of, once you become one! No matter even if your kids are 40+… I know. Because of my mother !

Being amother, in the back of the beyond where convention and custom rule is rather fun, when one can shock a complacent and staid neighbourhood with one’s favourite attire of jeans… quite unthinkable for, well… A Mother! Lol!

But, sometimes, like IHM has shared, I don’t like being a mother…
…When I realize the world is so full of perverts and paedophiles…

…When I know the mother is worshipped ostentatiously , trampled under insidiously, and shoved into that pigeon hole she must never grow out of…

…When people assume that as a mother one must conform and then be idolized- and rarely, if ever, inspire…

Being a mother is even greater fun, when one can preen at astonished remarks-Oh? That is your mother? Rather than feeling weird, I revel in that!

Being amother – you can do anything! That is the faith your children repose in you- and that is what endlessly provokes and inspires. And even when they know otherwise, they would rather believe – moms can make it better!

I love being a mother, more so, today, when I had this conversation with my little one- the gangly six foot soon to be engineer !
He is the President of his Civil Engg Branch Association at college (ahem! Ahem! That is a darned proud mom sharing a tidbit, quite deliberately, one might add quite unnecessarily too !) He had streaked his hair (red), inspired others to follow suit, and took his best friend this evening  to get his done, blonde… Brought him home, soliticiously  offered him a cap (black) to escape detection at home (seeing as his mom might not be as accommodating), with a warning, that they could both return home sooner than I expected. Of course, being a mom I know, and they do too… but warnings must not be ignored either!
When he returned, alone, I remarked that he certainly was lucky to have me as his mother. He was not amused, but regarded me quizzically. I knew the look, and knew something was cooking. I continued to write, and ramble, this very piece, I must add

“Amma, you know, my friends say that I’d look great with my ears pierced. Ear. Only one.”

(I knew he had already bought a pair of earrings, and mulled over ways to get it done )

“Sure” I replied, not even batting an eyelid, and continued writing.

Silence. I looked up. He looked exasperated.

“Amma, why can’t you say NO?”

“NO, if you want me to… “ grinning broadly now. Me, that is.

He joins. “Can’t you really refuse? It’s no fun doing it when you don’t oppose”

Rofl.

Talk of contradictions.

And then I remind him of a mutually favourite Calvin and Hobbes comic strip (we both discovered them this vacation, and are absolute fans ) when Calvin’s mom allows him to smoke, which he does, finds out the real way whether to go on or not, and comes out with the Classic Note on parenting : (Scroll down and read it…:D!) Iloved it! And yes, I love being a mom. Just thought I’d clarify anyway.

Need I add more? I think not. I do not want to give Indygurl a run for her money And yes…. Happy Birthday Indygurl… and Happy Friendship Day too… Solilo beat me to it, but what the heck… I shall just add one more wish and blessing to her lot

1 August, 2009

Impossible… is nothing!

A 55 er. Thanks for the inspiration, Solilo

***

 

Come, his eyes begged.

Stay, her pliant soul searchingly reached out.

Fingers entwined, feet shuffling, slowly, heart thudding; slowly their fingers moved, apart, fingertips lingering, the invisible strings of love straining between…

The bus arrived. She stood, watching, a hollow curved within, in gut wrenching pain.

He left. She stayed.

And, impossibly, their love grew.

25 March, 2009

***

Post Script:

This is what a 55 er is; information from Solilo’s post

A literary work will be considered 55 Fiction if it has:

• Fifty-five words or less (A non-negotiable rule)
• A setting,
• One or more characters,
• Some conflict, and
• A resolution. (Not limited to moral of the story)

Do try your own. I found it like a haiku in prose. Darned difficult, I tell you So I shall excuse you if you deem this to be as silly as I think it is With a cliche of a heading to boot. Lol!
But… and this is the most important thing… read closely…:)

I had FUN!

Pic. Courtesy: http://www.upaa.org

A Quirky Tag!

[http://www.quirky.org.uk

Alright, am dealing with beating Procrastination and so I come to another pending Tag. This time, it is from Aareet Krsna, a young blogger with a worldly wise wisdom and an awesome way with words His tag is to share seven things unusual about me It goes back to a couple of months ago actually!

• A girl who grew up a tomboy. The reason why it is so unusual is that it has stayed with me throughout, lol, and even today I am more tomboy that a lot of girls in my class! I had to insist that the girls of Std. VIII play cricket, as there was a lesson with a bit of reference to the game. Rather than giving theory lesson in class, the girls who knew and the boys who played helped them. That is when I realized a whole lot of things about myself. Other teachers, including the PE teachers think I am a weirdo. Perhaps. !!!

• My collectors’ items. Every scrap of paper on which I might have remotely pretended to be writer, an adviser, an essayist has been collected and stored. For whom or what, thou shalt not ask. Suffice to say, I am, of course a quirky soul. I still have the cards I got for my birthday, from school, to the latest that my kids gave me… 3 each, from each of the two offspring!!! I am rich!

• I cannot forgive myself easily. And that said, that is that!

• I have an irrational sense of logic that works perfectly fine for me, but gives the impression of my being disorganized. Ever heard that a mess is order, re-ordered in a certain way? Lol!

• How I came to be named. Dad wanted to go the whole way and name me Ushus, for the Goddess of Dawn… help!! Luckily, Mom did help, and put her foot down. Usha it became. But…. my generation has so many Ushas esp. where I live, in my own family.. a daughter, a daughter in law, neice, grand neice, house help, her neice… Lol. The list is endless. And when we attend a marriage function, it gets worse. Ah, I met Usha, if even an Usha were to say that, you’d have to qualify with Leelachechi’s Usha, or Ramu’s Usha, or Cheriya Usha [cheriya means small... ]… It is an over dose of the name I tell you!!!

• My name also got me at the bottom of the attendance register list. Most times it was convenient. ! Being a Back Bencher [hail the tribe!!!] it helped, enormously!!!

• My favourite tagline with the kids at school, to confuse them which has to be the all time height of quirkiness.. Lol. I ask them “Am I the problem?” And they are instantly lost. The braver ones smile. Most look shocked. The really Brave and Courageous Adventurers sometimes say Yes. I love that part… hehehe!

Now to tag you guys. The best part! This time however, I shall give you all a leeway

All those who read this are TAGGED , even if you don’t leave a comment. However, I would love it if you could just leave a link in the comments box when you do Thanks!

[Saved myself a lot of energy hyperlinking !!! It has to be one of the most enjoyable but painstaking things to do... ] But I might just drop in and ask … , if tagees are not forthcoming, LOL!

4 February, 2009

Of Words and Images – Another Tag!

This has been sitting in the Drafts Section for a few days now! Till time, inclination and the words come to me, for another post, I thought I would share another tag, that had come by a long long while ago. That leaves just one more, from Aareet…

Disclaimer:
All those who will finally take the tag, do please be guided by Deeps instructions. I have bent them too too much!!!

Doing Deeps’ Tag!

The rule goes thus-I’m supposed to be pasting an image for every answer of mine,from the first page of google image search,with minimal explanation.

As I understand it, I need to answer the points, and add an image from Google search’s first page of pictures, and give a minimal reply in explanation. Now the rest of it is easy, but restricting words is tough. Let’s see how far my control over words actually goes

• A place you’d like to travel to:

Venice. A grand tour of it in Gondola is what I shall do. And have a handsome latin hero playing the mandolin, and warbling some fancy Latin/Italian/gibberish song, to add effect. Lol!

• Your Favorite place:

Nothing more needed here. Except to add this too. Home, ultimately is where the heart is. And that finally is more home to me than the physical space I occupy! I carry my Home with me

• Your favorite food/drink:

Lassi. Sweet Lassi. Wins hands down. Anytime. Anywhere. Any season.

• Your favorite pets

Self-explanatory. The prompt came in singular. I made it plural:D! Pets. Love cats and dogs. To death.

• Your favorite color combination

Pink and Grey. Don’t ask me why. It is one of the most subtlest and at the same time, innocent combinations for me…

• Your all time favorite songs:

You decorated my life by Kenny Rogers. Could only get a Karaoke version. Do listen, and tell me, please

Kenny Rogers’ voice is magic. His lyrics out of this world. His music and the atmosphere it creates electric. Love him, and his songs!

Anne Murray is the Songbird, for me!! The richness of her voice, the grainy huskiness, and the lyrics of almost all her songs have enchanted me, for all time

I grew up with this song, among a whole host of others. The lyrics are specially meaningful to a die hard romantic like me

• The town in which you live in:

Thrisshivaperoor. The land of the Poorams. There, I told myself I would not. But sharing the name of my land is more than I could resist

• Your first job:

At the age of about 15, in Class X, at a leadership camp that some of us attended, we were asked to say what we see ourselves doing at the age of 30. I had no hesitation. I wrote Teacher. And then the Resource Person told us that apparently what we see/ wish for dearly, at that age more often than not does become reality. Strange but true. There it is, at around age 30, I just finished going back to college after a break of 10 years, a couple of kids, graduated with a B. Ed, and finally became a Teacher. Lol. Not anymore though. I have picked up enough of the profession to know that I shall always be a Learner. And that that is the only way to Teach !!

• Your Dream Job:

Writing. An anthology perhaps. Editing in a Publishing Company perhaps. But then I am in a dream job, teaching. So do I want to change? Confused !

• Bad Habit you have:

Isn’t there a beautiful couplet in Hindi that goes like this?
Kal Kare so Aaaj
Aaj Kare so ab
??
That isn’t me And that is the drattest and darnest bad habit I carry around, with no hope of redemption! Look at how late I did this tag !!!

• The one thing you’ll like to do before you die:

Now this is a GRAND DREAM! Publish a book. Will I? Won’t I? More like I won’t.. but it is such a thought, that is going to make me go on…. !!!

• The first thing you’ll buy if you get $1,000,00o

Buy a cottage by the sea, where there is no one else and nothing else but the long stretch of golden beach and swaying palm, and blue blue shallow and pleasantly calm sea. Of course the house will come with the latest modern amenities, and cook to boot… I’m going to be really busy there. Lazing !!!

****

Now, Onward Ho! with the Tag:) This is the best part! A word to all those listed below:

Please do not go by what I have written. I have bent, and rather murdered the intent of the tag, lol, that should be done Like This. Do read up Deeps for the Right Way. I have cheated. *giggle*!!

So I tag you, dear folks:

Indyeah [you knew this was coming too, didn't you??]:)

Shail

IHM (Deeps has already told you, I know ]

Imp’s Mom

Mampi

Balvinder Singh

J P Joshi

Praveen

Sashu

Soumya

Rukhiya

Mithe

Vrinda

And all those who pass by here, and would like to share too

Hooligans? Naah! Never!

For once, I applauded Arnab, of Times Now.

An interview was in progress as I caught the programme, almost at its end.

It was nothing short of a slanging match, a shouting spree between a BJP representative, a Congress Representative and (Trumpets please, followed by drum roll) Ram Sena National General Secretary, Vinay Something!

Speaking on the Mangalore “incident”

Vinay: We condemn [I gasped, coughed on my food, a bit of it dropping back on to my plate, my son thumping my back.. all of it happened together] the act that took place in Mangalore. It was a criminal act, *blah blah blah*

Arnab [smirking, no, smiling genially] So you are saying it should not have happened?

Vinay: What you people are not seeing is why it happened. They were teenagers. They were taking alcohol. The pub owner is also to blame. Why he gave them alcohol?

Arnab: So you are saying it was right to hit them, tear their clothes.

Vinay: No no no… that was wrong. Why you are talking only about that? You are not seeing everything!

Arnab: They were your party members?

Vinay: Why you are looking at that only. What happened you do not know

Arnab: They were your party members?????
[He had to ask again for this reply from Vinay]

Vinay: Yes.

Arnab [pointedly]: So those 40 men who attacked these girls, would you call them hooligans?

Vinay: Silence.

Arnab [pointedly]: So those 40 men who attacked these girls, would you call them hooligans?

Vinay: Silence

Arnab [pointedly]: So those 40 men who attacked these girls, would you call them hooligans? Vinay, were they or weren’t they?

Face off. A stubborn Vinay refuses to make a noise. It now becomes a battle of wills. Arnab repeats, repeats, and pins him down. Vinay is looking hunted , haunted and cornered.

Vinay: [Blank faced] NO.

Arnab [disbelievingly smiling, smirking, nodding] So you say they were not hooligans! That says it all!!

Thank you gentlemen, for your time.

***

I have one quarrel with Arnab. That he called all of them”gentlemen”.

And I rest my case there.

27 Januray, 2009