A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)


Elsie Abraham, Teacher Extraordinaire!

3 December, 2014

Elsie Teacher passed away early this morning. Rest in peace, teacher. You ARE so missed.

Today, 14 April, 2014, is yet another special day! The birthday of a very very special friend, mentor, guide, soul-sister. Mrs. Elsie Abraham, of the Social Science Department in our school, who has just retired after twenty-three years of dedicated service  in her vocation. I had written this piece for the School Magazine, ‘Bhavana Jyoti’, but I know that there are a lot of her former students who would want to share in this, who might not have the opportunity to share in celebrating her, and her birthday, collectively, otherwise. I do wish that each of you, who read this, and have some memory of her to share, will do so in the comment section at the end! I know for certain, that it would be one of the best gifts she would receive this day! 

Sometimes when you meet a person, for the first time, you wonder how it could be that it was the first time! A déjà vu strikes. Haven’t we met, sometime, some place, before this? That feeling is so real, but rather rare – for that is when you meet a kindred soul; someone who instantly gels with your thoughts, and meshes into your world.

How glad I am, this day, to tell you, that Elsie Teacher has been one such person in my life. Mrs. Elsie Abraham. Our beloved Elsie Teacher, to all of us. Also, how poignant a moment this is when I realize why I am writing this. After 23 years of exceptional service to Bhavan’s, Poochatty, Elsie Teacher has bid farewell, as she retires; only from her work, at school, as I see it! She never could leave our school really, for we would talk of her, sometimes even to her, knowing her presence would still stay, vigilant as ever, in our Staff Room!

Elsie Abraham, Teacher Extraordinaire!

Elsie Abraham, Teacher Extraordinaire!

I must tell you more – which of course, you would probably already know, and if not, you would nod your head in agreement, for sure!

If popularity polls on a favourite teacher were conducted in school, it is certain, that Elsie Teacher’s name would be right up there in the top few. Her knowledge of the ‘subject’ she taught, her manner of ‘teaching’, as it were, the ubiquitous thread of humour, kindliness and firmness, strung together with her ever present warm smile, which was never far even from her eyes, always, is part of what made her a beloved and unforgettable teacher. I know this personally, for even though I was not fortunate enough to be a student in her class, the kids in my family, sons, nephews, nieces, have always considered her to be a firm favourite. So also the innumerable ex students I have had the good fortune to interact with on a regular basis. Elsie Teacher rocks, is, I’m sure, a firm tagline for her! That in itself, speaks volumes for me.

On Teachers’ Day, when Elsie Teacher’s name is announced, the spontaneous burst of loud applause offered with such uninhibited joy is something I look forward to, each year. I’ll miss that the next occasion we do that!

She inspires. For ever so many reasons. Her skills, obviously, in class. Her diction and language – unerring in its use as well. Her warmth and non-judgemental nature – something so rare these day, everywhere! Her indomitable spirit in managing problems in health. That has to be perhaps the greatest inspiration from her. Her never-say-die-spirit! A lesser person would have buckled under the overwhelming pressure to just throw the towel in, and taken the easy way out. Not Elsie teacher. Her Devotion to Duty (there are awards, in this category given to the Defence Services, announced on the Eve of The Republic Day – Elsie Teacher would certainly qualify for this! ) and the integrity with which she sustains are exceptional. With all the vagaries of humanness – the spirit within her has fought and won the day!

Each one of us has something special about us, don’t we? Something that sets us apart from our fellow beings. Elsie Teacher’s, apart from her indefatigable spirit, is her infallible memory! Her gift for remembering things is legendary – parts of a conversation, of an aeon ago, Birthdays and Anniversaries of friends, colleagues, their families, extended families – gosh! It’s a constant source of wonder to all of us who know her. We’ve warned her that the awesome ability of her will definitely be called upon, and she should prepare to be constantly bombarded by phone calls from us, to know, and be reminded of all kinds of things! Many a time when we were stumped for words, dates, we’d turn to her unanimously, to supply all the missing bits. And, to our relief, and collective laughter, that would ring out from the staff room, she would oblige.

For those who do not know, Elsie Teacher grew up in Madras (now Chennai), having studied in Good Shepherd Convent, and Stella Maris College. Her fondness for Tamil is just as legendary here – and many a time we’d witness lively conversations and songs between her and other teachers like Meera Teacher (who is now in the Pottore Bhavan’s) and Lakshmi Teacher.

Perhaps the feeling of empathy, of being on the same wavelength with Elsie Teacher, that I had was due to the fact that both she and I (and others in school) had grown up outside Kerala, and so we came with what the natives of Thrissur called an accented Malayalam. All of us in this rather exceptional state of being NRKs for a major part of our own youth have this instant empathy, and sorority – the hapless Malayalee in us needs the support of the other.

My own association with Elsie Teacher is from 1996, when I first joined this school. I do remember meeting her, and she (but, of course) remembers the first thing I asked her, after the introductions were made! I did not, when she mentioned it to me recently! So amazing is her recollection of facts, dates and happenings! 18 years is a long time, is it not, to remember first words spoken to each other! Hats off to you, Elsie Teacher. I know I am blessed for the good fortune of having been in her company for the years I’ve spent in school, and more so, for I do enjoy it, a feeling shared by all who know her! I hold her amongst my closest and trusted friends. Just talking to her, unburdening sometimes, is calming – in fact, life looks up. Her interest too, in our well-being, be it a student, a support staff or a teacher-colleague has been consistent and heart-warming.

I’m tempted to take liberties with Shakespeare’s words, right out of Mark Antony’s speech from ‘Julius Caesar’ and say this of Elsie Teacher –

“Here was a Teacher!
When comes such another?”

And, I’d respond too, just like that citizen in the mob:


Elsie Teacher, you’re one in a zillion. Each time we miss you in school you’re going to sneeze and cough, for sure. Just so, you know, we’re going to be a mighty (dis)comfort to you, even when you retire! God Bless! (for each time you sneeze thus, too!)

Khalil Gibran says it best, and I know these words are for Elsie Teacher too –
“The teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind.”

Written in February :), perfect for 14 April, 2014, Elsie Teacher’s brithday!



Looking to the future …

… is the only way to go, this day. Merely resting on the  laurels of our recent and distant glorious past, and some of the questionable and deeply debated parts of our history too, cannot take us forward. It’s the norm. Cliche though it be, the answer is what the future represents, and what we have with us, to take this country forward. The youth, the children, but of course. They are the greatest strength we have, and yet the weakest link, if not groomed, honed, and melded, and forged with the steel of resolve, to do the right thing, to not be swayed by the innumerable wayside lures and shortcuts to life. Is that going to happen?

Any school would be that melting pot where it can at least take frail wings, and if nurtured and followed up, a certainty of the success will follow. And while we seem to focus only on three or four days in a year to do that… THAT… to surround them with the colour, noise, and festivity, so that they remember something, anything, I still believe there is a chance that some hearts will be forged with that resolve of steely determination.

Today in school, we had the Independence Day celebration, as usual. I went with a heavy heart, and the weather seemed to echo the pall of gloom in my heart, which was filled thoughts of the families of the crew of the INS Sindhurakshak. How does one celebrate when the Navy and the families of the crew who are missing are mourning? But, as someone put it succinctly, life goes on. And we move on, from grief to hope.

DSC00463DSC00461At school, the atmosphere of festivity was infectious, and through the light shower that continued during the flag hoisting, the children stood steadfast, without a murmur.

The activity for each child that day was to make their own tiny tri-colour to don, on their uniform. I was lucky and got three 🙂

The tricolour display I carried around :D

The tricolour display I carried around 😀

The top, a printout of the sort we wanted to make for our class, finger painting; the second and third given by my students – in fact the third one is finger painting. The venue for the rest of the programme was the major auditorium where a patriotic song competition, a dance and a skit were to be performed, apart from the usual speeches that children give.

It was then that the tiny spark of hope, for me, flickered into a flame. One I hope will be fanned into a steady fire of love and deep sense of duty towards our country. I do have the faith. I hope they find it too. As the next hour unfolded, I was able to take a few pictures and videos of the performances. A couple of them are shared here.

The youngest group, with their song impressed me, for the lyrics, which bespoke of the hope I nurture, that the youth, these very children hold India in their heart and their hands. May they find the strength to nurture too.


I’ve only got a part of their song,  the lyrics that I created in the google transliteration page 🙂

देखो करम तुम्हारी
हर्गिज़ न डगमगाए

रस्ते बड़े कठिन है
चलना संभल संभल के

इंसाफ की डगर पे
बच्चों दिखाओ चलके

यह देश है तुम्हारा
नेता तुम ही हो कल के

तन मन की भेंट देकर
भारत की लाज रखना

इंसाफ की डगर पे
बच्चों दिखाओ चल

Translated to mean:

Make sure you never waver
While doing your duty

The path ahead is difficult
Tread that path with care

O children show how you can walk the path of Justice

For yours is the Nation, and you are the leaders of tomorrow

Keep up the honour of Bharat
With the gift of your body and mind
(By giving your body and mind)

O children show how you can walk the path of Justice

For yours is the Nation, and you are the leaders of tomorrow

Do excuse the translation which is at best a weak reflection on the powerful words of this song!


The dance performance is by slightly older students, innovatively choreographing and enthralling the audience. With just a few days of preparation; the support of the PE teacher; ideas galore; creativity unlimited; favourite songs thrown in for good measure; there is hope for us, that the spirit is young, it is energetic, enthusiastic, and hopefully these colours will imprint in their hearts, for their country!I thought I had  taken the video, as they performed for the audience, only to find that I got carried away by the performance and forgot to start the recording. Grrrrr… I am SO mad at myself. The good thing was that there was still hope 🙂 (that word again!) and I got them quickly to do it again, immediately before they had to leave. So while it might seem a bit down,it really was an awesome performance!

And then, the fervour of ‘Go Back Simon’, with the youth of a long time ago, agitating against the Simon Commission.  Even though there was a bit of fumbling, the less than 10 minute skit sketched the entire period effectively.





In the final count, yes, I do believe we have a future, and it is bright. However, till then, we have to deal with what we have, the best we can.

Jai Hind.

15 August 2013

It’s now a happy day. For some very special reasons too 🙂


A Woman …

Am I, am I.
And glad of it.

I’m Daddy’s Girl, still Growing Up
And I wonder if I’ll ever be
The Right Age 🙂

I’m that Little Girl yet
Who hasn’t given up on dreams,
And Carousel Rides 🙂

I wish I was stronger.
But then I might give
Mr. World a run for his money.
Thank you. I am happy this way 😀
For now. 😛

I’ve lived Sepia Dreams
And coloured them bright 🙂
I have my reasons and seasons 
And most times, I am defiant 😀

Today, too, like other days
I celebrate me. And you….
All of you, who be humane
Who loves and respects another,
Especially a woman; for then,

You truly live.

8 March, 2013
Wishing every reader here, both men and women the best of the day, and of life, as you walk through the world, sharing your respect for everyone, especially women. Happy Women’s Day.
And for a change, I shall not excuse myself for a self-aggrandizing post, linky linky one at that 😀

Listened to, as the first song of the day, “Woman” by John Lennon. Magic 🙂


And so…

I have officially welcomed a daughter into the family 🙂 (And that has been the reason for the long long break from blogging 😀 ) My son Arjun married Pratibha on 29th June, 2012.

I’m blessed. We are, my son and I. And it has been a wedding that was entertaining, full of song and dance, filled with all the emotions, laughter, tears, and endless late nights of catching up on news, gossip, zimbly-at-all-chatting and never wanting to sleep and miss out on spending time with loved ones. Weddings, get togethers are like that, aren’t they? Especially if it is all about the two being from different states 😀 😀

Finally the excitement and energy that has been on high for so many days is quietening down. Winding down is not much fun. Getting back to a workplace after that orgy of emotion and fun, even less :D! But we need that bread to sustain us, forget about the butter 😛 😛

There were a lot of interesting “comments” and remarks that got me writing this down! Some typical, like “Gosh! Now you’re mother-in-law! You are probably feeling the power of it all!” Gawd! Seriously?? I mean, what power, darn it? I’m still me, and I have a beautiful daughter to top it all! I feel the power of happiness, that is all!!!

“Oh my, one burden is lesser to carry around now, no?” (The other, presumably, is the younger son 😀 ) Burden? They are both my wondrous offspring, bits of me, lots of themselves, all entirely made of themselves, and filled with all kinds of everything that still amazes and fascinates me. They are lovely people, and I’ve never never thought of them as burdens! I’m entirely fed up of innumerable remarks which, worded differently, say the same thing! “Responsibilities”, “duties”… what have you! If anything, I have one more person to love, to cherish, to coddle to death 😀 :D! And no way can that be a burden, responsibility or whateva!!!

“We actually thought you’d look mother-in-law-ish” LOL! Do that category have a “look”??? I wonder what that could be! If anything I feel no different, and dress no different, and do things just the same! With more care and concern certainly that my daughter ( in law) should have a smooth passage into her life with her partner, my son.

And yes, I shall say daughter, though I have read somewhere that one cannot really say that; for she will always be her mother’s daughter, and a mother in law can never take that place. I certainly agree with the notion, but I do believe that it is possible to be that mother, and be that daughter too, even if it took a marriage to make it so 🙂 🙂 More so, with the cross cultural wedding this turned out to be!

To put it plain and simple: I’m still me, Parukutty , my daughter is still her, and so is Arjun, my son 🙂 🙂 And we are all really happy being what we are to each other! *Fingers crossed* that we may all be as blessed with the love we share with each other! May God Bless them, too, to be as loved and loving always!

A Haiku, for them 🙂


Merging my soul in

Yours, I’m lost: only to find

Completeness in us.

15 July, 2012



In the garden of memories are blossoms, some bright and large, some tiny, exquisite, some untended bushes and shrubs, the garden in disarray as each of them came at different points with different feelings, to colour them There are dark shadows, some clouded in fine mist, a glimpse just beyond of an elusive memory.

And there are some blossoms, a flower in particular, that is designed with a special touch – that holds a special fragrance of yet another world of memories that, when you touch it, you smile, your are transported to another plane; but now the heart squeezes as that flower you see, only in a memory, and not around you. Not anymore. For this flower has gone on to blossom in a bigger, brighter astral garden, tended to by Her. (Him/Her, as is. I like Her!)

I revisit the garden. In fact I’ve been middling along there, ever since Saturday last, 28th January, 2012, to be precise, when I heard the news. It took long to believe what I was hearing – called out from Class, that morning, when Varsha called to give me the news by phone – and it will take even longer to accept. But, certain bitter truths and sorry realities, grim though they be, we must face.

And, so it is. So it is.

Joseph George Earali, a different stroke of the Master’s paintbrush went on to become part of His collection. A fateful accident snatched away an only son from his parents, a fond grandson from his grandmother, a true friend from all his mates.  He was just 20.

And a favourite of mine.  Through the years.

They say teachers and parents are not to play favourites; but what does one do, when someone like Joe comes along and coolly takes over your heart? (And sometimes gives you heartburn with it, 😀 )His engaging grin, his laid back, easy going demeanour, his never-say-die spirit (oh, the irony!), when it came to arguments, analyses in classes (Julius Caesar, Ode to the West Wind, come to mind here) his earnest excuses for homework not done (because, you see, his dog needed him more!), his sometimes obstinate dog-with-a-bone stance (how he would love that description!)

When he was in the fifth, he began to come out of his shell, a bit, – he found his niche in the Drama put up for the School Cultural Competition. Around 1999 August/September, if I am not mistaken.

Joseph, Class 5 - extreme left, purple waistcoat

He got to be a Minister, with his cohorts, Anjali Viswanath, Amith Poonath, Sreenivas, Nikhil Poduval, and others. We learnt, or rather Anjali learnt, how to get a dhoti tied, the “palasaar” way, from home, and some parents, including Joe’s mother, and I got to the daunting task of getting these kids tied up in it 🙂 It was hilarious. The boys, bare chested (esp the King, and the Ministers), got to wear my fancy mirror work waistcoats too 🙂  Joe’s passion for acting was evident right here, and it went on to stay with him, for the rest of his school days. That drama is special to me, will always be, and it is one unhesitating, welcome memory!

“All the world’s a stage,
men and women merely players
They have their exits and their entrances…”

Wrote Shakespeare, in “As you like it”. He came onstage, wowed himself and us, and left before we could say it wasn’t time!

After Class 5, we next met, in class, in 2005, when I was his English Teacher in Class 9 and later in Class 10. Ah. Testing times for them, and interesting times for me. The vibrancy of that class astonished me from Day one. Usually the Class 9 kids are cocky, pushing limits to behavioural  dares, and generally trying desperately to make a teacher lose her temper 😀 . You know how it is. You’ve also been there , done that. At least from one of the two sides, or both sides of the Teacher’s Table ( as I have 😛 ).

That particular class was a throbbing amalgam, a crucible of talent, oomph, looks, brains, and craftsmanship. There was Rasheen, talented, a collector and creator of things, the musical and dance talents of Chitra, Roshni and others, the ambition and determination Anjali (not to mention her dramatic skills as well)  – she went on to become the topper at both the Class X and XII Boards, at school – the quiet but vocal enough presence of Varsha (fierce competition for Joe, on stage too!),and Ah! I cannot forget Dencil and his “gang”, always adding to “events” in class.

And there was Joseph. He stood out. I would not say, in physical stature – he was of average height, slightly rounded – and though he liked to spend more time outside class, on the ground (which self-respecting student does not? 😀 ), I would not call him “atheletic” , no Sireee, I would not! His friends know! But he probably knew all about the games, even if he did not play much! He brought much that was “hatke” into the class, creative ideas, different perspective, and the wealth of his voracious reading. Sigh. Those were the days.

Voracious is the only way to describe his appetite for books. Interesting, his grandmother said the same thing, when we went to visit with his family. I understood.

I remember, once he tinted his hair, a light brown, I think, in the same class. It glinted in the sunlight, and that is how he got noticed. Well, obviously :D. While he remained unfazed at our protestations (unwritten rule, you cannot do this in school 🙂 ) we had to admit that it did make a difference, telling him, because we never had to talk to him about it again.

Ok, I should not be playing favourites, but I have a theory as to why there is this connect we had. Perhaps the rebel in me connected with the runaway in him. Maybe. My perspective. 🙂 Joe, well, Roshni, one of his closest friends tells me, just the other day, he “adored” me. I’m flabbergasted. No, way beyond that. She also tells me that he would never ever admit it either. But he did, to her. That finds resonance, deep within. His parents said that he spoke of me, and his Class Teacher, Vasantha, with the same fondness. They say how grateful they are that the Bhavan’s here gave him an opportunity to discover his talents, his passion, and build his confidence. Smiles wreathed our faces as we launched into animated discussion about him. It’s like that with Joe. We each had our own special special moments to recall!

That is why this is written, because, though I never got a chance to tell him, he will be just as special to me. Always. In fact, his friends speak of the “connect” which seemed obvious to them in class! Varsha talks of how the whole class would sit back, once Joe got up to “clear” a doubt. Frankly, except for the fact that the portions seemed to lag, always, in my class, I welcomed those arguments, and discussions. It was very hard to convince him of something unless… well, there was no unless, with Joe! 😀 . He’d begin with “But, Teacher, I think/ don’t you think that…” . He remained unconvinced that Julius Caesar was not ambitious; that  Shelley was not influenced by Tolkien and his “Lord of the Rings”, when he composed “Ode to the West Wind”. He converted me to being a fan of “Lord of the Rings”. (My first born, Arjun, started it, but he made sure of it! 😀 )- so I was lucky, just lucky that I knew about LOTR and its author when he asked the doubt :D!

To have been a favourite teacher of a child makes you blessed. Especially if that child is someone you’ve been fond of, but been stern and strict with, at the same time. That he/she has gone beyond the stern façade and found something worthy to look up to. I’m flummoxed (of course, Joe’s concurrence to this fiction is assumed 😛 😛 ), and deeply honoured. I’m blessed. Oh yes, indeed!

Joe, with his creative streak, was extremely so, especially at Exam time. He could write up a storm but most often off topic :D. Sounds familiar to many of you I think. It is a familiar scene from my own school/college days. However, on the other side, with a different coloured ink to write on the same paper, well, it becomes difficult! I wished I could have given more marks, only because he knew,  and he knew I knew he knew; he would instead treat me to a treatise of some unusual perspective. His grandmother recalls this incident, where he told her that he had written so much for the exam, but he did not get good marks. He mentioned also that he realized that he had gone off the track! So I humoured him and me, telling him where the answer could be improved. Of course he already knew. So did I  🙂

He was deeply involved in stage performances. Be it acting, which he did with such aplomb, or behind scenes, scripting, planning digital backgrounds, doing voice-overs for the Annual Day, Voices of India programme. In Class 9 – class drama “Mirabai” was the once in a life time performance that had us in splits- He, as Rana Sanga, Mirabai’s father in law,  was supposed to tell Mirabai that she should worship only Goddess Durga – and with all the fire and rage, he gave it all he had – “You WILL worship KRISHNA, Mirabai”, he said, and stomped off… leaving us speechless, momentarily, then  breathless, holding our sides in laughter! Of course, though he was a bit put off, he still was proud of what he did 😀 :D. That class, I tell you was something else!

The young Vivekananda convinces the King (Joe) - middle

The same year, for Annual Day, we had a drama, scripted by one of our teachers, Ms Preeti Neelakantan, on the life of Vivekananda. Guess who auditioned? And he did not want to be Vivekananda. We had a stalwart, perfecto Swami in the form of Aravind Menon, of my son’s batch; no, Siree, Joseph wanted to be a King, with the works, in costume, hair,

Joseph, the King, arrogance personified, on stage!

moustache! He wanted flowing hair, and a really heavy moustache. Getting him ready in that costume was hilarious! The kids were ready, and the programme was getting delayed. Now, you have to understand how this costume works – the King’s and all those who had the dhoti contraptions. You had to tie the flared part of some shapeless cloth

Line-up of the Cast - Vivekananda - Joe is on the far right

aroung the waist, TIGHT, then loop a lot of frills and stuff, between the legs, wrap around once again, tie around the waist. Then you have a sort of long tail, hanging down the front, which is again to be looped and tucked in at the small of the back. He wiggled, complained, and once everything was in place, he said, Teacher, what if I want to go to the toilet? Hummphrrrfffff :D! I gave him a LOOK. And he said, Oh it’s alright, OK, teacher :P!
That drama was such fun, getting the boys ready, having kids right from the Primary to Class XII – the Vivekananda! And learning from the internet, how to tie a saree the Bengali way, having the narrators all attired in  Bengali traditional dress. Such nostalgia. Have shared only pictures where Joe has shown up here 🙂

Much has been spoken about this batch, especially lately, while each of us were thinking of him. A lot of good stuff, and lot that could have been different. I told Roshni, when we met at his house, that day, that I see him in class sometimes, even now, a “doubt” growing in his eyes, and how I remember him from our classes together, those years ago. She came back with a teary smile, she said, “Outside class, teacher, that was where he was most of the time; except perhaps English class.” True to a great extent. In Class XI, I never got an opportunity to meet him inside the class, but outside, well,  sometimes, he would be at the door of a class going on… you know what that means, don’t you? 😀

Though I met him only a few times outside school, after he left school, we did not “talk” much. He was with his best buddies, Arjun Varma, and Vishnu Menon. Theirs was a friendship quite apart. I spoke briefly to them, looking more to talk to Joseph.  We did not really, but I knew we would catch up later, sometime, and talk of things. I was so sure of it. Though he was doing his B.Tech. and had put his creative plans on hold for a bit, that he would get there was a certainty. I knew we’d get back to discussions on it. Nothing would stop him. Nothing could, I told myself. How wrong I was!

And then that got me wondering about his friends too. If we, in our chronology, and our so called experience of life find it hard to accept such harshness from life, I wonder what it is doing to his friends. I know this one thing though, that he was blessed to have those friends, and they too were to know him. I’d like to reach out to them too, and tell them I understand, but would that be anywhere near the truth? How can one understand the way another accepts, or does not? I only hope that they are moving towards knowing how magical, how almost perfect it was, knowing Joe, and remembering the good times and laughter, to get them  through all those times when the world, like that stage, darkens.

He’s gone on to weave a tapestry of his ideas and thread them with his words, for the Blessed, Above, and left us groping in the dark. The stage is darkened, and though the curtain will never fall upon his time on stage – the light that shone on him, for now, has dimmed a bit to a silhouette and vivid flashes in our hearts and minds.

Joe your life has been a joy to share in, in whatever way we could. And this is just a celebration of it. The Good Lord is probably being entertained to your version of the Lord of the Rings right now, I guess. Peace. And prayers for you, always.

7 February, 2012

The Class 5 drama photo has been shared by Anjali; the Vivekananda Drama photos have  taken from Sarawathy’s FB album on the entire drama. Will share the album once I get Saraswathy’s permission 🙂