A Quest on Overdrive … :)

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


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Hangover

The surfeit of
Spirit.
Uniquely branded.

You.

Aeons of drinking
From the cup of
Shared memories
Has not sweetened
Life.

For, your sudden
Withdrawal,
Sent me into
Paroxyms
An orgy, almost

Of pain.

And here I am
Penning a paean.

To that ache
I shall always live with.

Seeming to revel in it.

Maybe I do.
Maybe, that is
The only way.

For, any other way
Would mean

Acquiring new skills.

I’m too old a dog,
For that.

Unless, of course,
I find a new spirit
Just as unique…

And assuage
My soul’s thirst.

5 March, 2017
Online, and as surreal as it can get. No, no spirits, except them wordy ones are responsible for this 🙂 

 


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Living on the edge…

A random thought blows on the breeze tonight, as an organizer takes over my brain. So many compartments, so many heads, so many many chapters of an un-writeable story  mill in the teeming flurry, dead centre, and pound the wall of the skull demanding space, to be freed from the endless rigmarole of the vicious circle of life.

One random thought – what do my thoughts matter? What do I matter? Wait. Do I matter? What if I left this world, as we know it, and not one single person knew what it took for me to inhabit myself? Now, why did I want that?

He called, and told me to cut short my holiday. Said he was missing me. Couldn’t understand why I needed to be away, get away. From him? His bewilderment is understandable. If he’d done the same though, I’d probably have asked too. Wait. Would I? Another pondering thought, and I realize, maybe not…Not. Definitely. Me-times are good times. Charge-yourself-up-times.

Another thought stings. Do I get enough of them times? To know me, if at all, and dang if anyone else does not?

I should have been a counsellor, I tell you, not a data analyst with a hot shot company. I read data, figure out the trends, progressions, make projections and fail to read my own progression in my relationships. That irony sucks. Big time. How I partition bits of me – please everyone, share that bit of an acceptable me with her, him, them….

And what if, so desperately, I wanted just one person to know me, all of me, all that I could be, am and will potentially be? It suddenly seemed so important.

I can’t come right now, love. I spoke to him, inside my head. Not nowThough I miss you so! How can I tell you more! Explaining when you wouldn’t understand. You know, it’s much easier to edit things when I share them, so that I take care not to rock your boat. That sense of you being a rock to me, when I am finding a steadfast core, crumbly at times, but a core nonetheless, within me. I wish I could, but I can’t, knowing how quick you’d jump to less than obvious conclusions. I wish I could tell you of this new friend. 

~~~~ ****~~~~

That new young trainee at office. Quiet, concerned, attentive. Unfailingly courteous, says the right things. Uh uh. A paragon, sometimes – would have to be, to be like this in her office! And an absolute fake, no? She asks herself, disbeievingly. Do they make people like them anymore. People who get you, respond to your quicksilver changes, keep tabs on how she was? She supposed it takes one introvert to recognize another. That acknowledgement of one’s quirks and the empathy thereof, that’s an undoing. A vulnerability too, that she was not entirely sure, she could take. A newness of being able to be yourself – not a role model, not an always-happy-beaming-inspirer!

That stray thought zings and zeroes in on him. Him. That colleague. Had to be a him, somehow. The universe always conspires, to confound, and confirm how connections form on a pre written script. Had to be him.

And what was worse, is that compartmentalization that ruled her life. She supposed everyone did it. Or was it just her? How she could be who she was with this one, boderline friend, more than one, really. But she could not tell anyone of him. Not her him, anyway. He’d never understand, believing they were enough for each other, not ever understanding that sometimes, just so sometimes, limiting a thought, and judging it was the sure fire way of inhibiting another share, another time. She knew now, enough, enough to inhibit her. That she loved him, would always love him, but would never be able to fully share of herself, was one of the greatest ironies ever! Still she couldn’t let him know or wonder what she’d been upto, for that is the progression that conversation would take. If she told him, his response after a sudden meaningful, almost reproachful silence, would ensure she’d shut up further, and shut out that cohort at the office, forever. Wasn’t that how she’d been living?

Peace-keeping forces had it easy in conflict zones, when compared to the number of cease-fires she’d carried out, without ever trying to talk it out, for she’s do anything to avoid that war! That kind of fallout she could do without!

So this time, she did not speak of her friend, but quietly went on about getting to know him better. Being a  renegade of the heart was better than ravaging it for one who’d always question.

Life was not linear, and that was a lesson she was learning. That it was perfectly okay to be who she was. All along, though, there would always be this particular totem she’d need to carry. From the alternate lifetime, of her choices that she could not share, to the one she needed to be in, for her own succor as well as that she provided, on demand, infinitely patient, empathetic.

Her phone rang, as if on cue. So, you’ll come home earlier, won’t you? I really miss you!

Ah. Dear me! I miss you too! And yes, I shall, I shall. I’ll definitely do that, as scheduled. At the New Years’!

She laughed, as she said it. To take the sting out of any rebuff he could feel.

He grunted. She continued to smile, into the phone.

A tiny triumph this. A steely resolve to end a year most forgettable. Apromise, to be more of herself to her. A closure to being taken for granted. A good way to end the year.

She was beginning to enjoy living on the edge.

29 December, 2016


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Dreams II

Teetering
Loose-limbed
Drunken, on the joy
Of being freed
In the sub-conscious
From the deeply
Repressive unconscious

Under closed lids
In sleep
Or surfacing in
Eyes, wide-shut

They query, querulously

Aren’t we your babies?

Won’t you let in some air?

Me, me, me, Today!

But why? Why not?

What are you afraid of?

They issue scathing statements:

Lioness? Uh uh.

You’re a crab.

Eh? No, no, they have an exoskeleton!

This one? No spine, no bone!

But just sometimes, sometimes
They say this too:

Thank you, for living me!
And thank you, for not 
Letting the others die!

dreams

23 April, 2015
(A delightful discovery of a scrawl in an old diary from last year 🙂 ❤ )

Picture, courtesy Google Image search 😀

 

 


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The Ogre turned Teacher

… or so the Ogre thinks 😛

Long, sometimes confessional, post alert* That’s bound to get readers in, for there is nothing more tempting than confessional confetti candy, even if it be spicy enough!

At the same time, I must admit that this has come about after an interesting conversation I had recently with kids who had been in my class, or their siblings had. Insightful as always, you know, talking to them kids, and listening, for a change 😀

It began with one of them saying how her sister remembered me from the Primary School – my “beating” so to speak. I had to grin sheepishly.

As with how it has been with very many from my profession, I too used to use either my hand or a wooden scale (a sharp tap below the knee, on the calf) in my own formative years as a teacher. That, combined with my deadly stare has made me a terror. As I told this young lady, it certainly isn’t something I’m proud of at all. I wish I had not, for I knew, even then, I hadn’t a need for it. Still, that is the way  it has been. Probably the first few years there, in the Primary, I did use corporal punishment, till one day I was summoned by the kind-hearted, extremely humane Principal we had back then, who told me of a certain young girl (who was NOT, by the way, at the receiving end 😛 ) being “scared” of me. Gopalan Sir was circumspect, understanding, and gentle in the way he told me of this. And that was the turning point. It finally came home to me that all those thoughts I had while using the scale, or my hand, the discomfort of it all, needn’t have to be at all.

They say it takes a kind word to transform an ogre. For me, even though these days I am still an ogre who roars 😛 , Gopalan Sir has been that catalyst. He is someone I admire for his rational view, his endless patience and empathy, his love of all the members of his school, student or staff. It has been over 13 years since he has retired, and we meet quite often at school meetings, or weddings/functions in and around the city- each time it is with such affection and respect that he is greeted, by me and all the students (former) and staff.

Since that talk with Gopalan Sir, the extent of punishment served by me to the kid/kids is to decorate the wall, as I put it, joining the child with it 😛 (to stand against some corner or wall 😀 – and I’d be standing with the kids for the entire duration 😛 ), for corporal punishment is indeed against all things humane. I have been privy to a lot discussions on the same, from the fraternity, and from the stakeholders of the system, primarily parents. There is a sense of having “lost” something, for many, these days, without being able to “beat”. While I may seem to pontificate (and how ironic is that, coming from someone who was guilty of the same before! But you know what they say about reformed ogres and rakes? 😛 ), one thing is clear: very many, both parents and teachers in schools alike, are of the opinion that for discipline and learning to take place, there has to be a fear factor. That is to say, if the student is suitably afraid of what you might say / do, they will “study”. The sad thing? It works most of the time. Ask kids why they study a certain subject obsessively! To counter this is another school of thought – the Love factor. This one works primarily from liking and loving the kids/ learner group. We know how well equipped we are with that!!! Easy to say, but rather difficult to do. Instead we mouth things like – they have no base, such a* useless, what’s the point when you smile they sit on your head and will not listen to you evah… yada yada yada…. 😀 I speak of what I hear, and know, dear readers, as you all too must be aware!

However, in all of these situations, there is a learner group, we know, who is waiting to do just that if you allow them to, at their own pace, however that might be, even if it is not to your liking!!! I have a questions/ranting here!

  1. How many parents would in any way encourage their kids to become teachers, these days?
  2. How easy it is to pick holes into the fabric, hard woven, by either parent/teacher of the learner in their care!
  3. How many teachers are there, who love what they do? And the learner group with it?
  4. How is the larger system addressing the situation of the marginalized group in teaching, eulogized once or twice each year?
  5. Finances are just as important, but then teaching is to be seen as a noble vocation, and no matter what remuneration you receive, don’t you DARE think of perks, just the noble vocation!!! 😀
  6. Thankless job it is, say many! You now get it from Management/HMs/HoDs/Students/PARENTS – only you are there for you. Why should you take the risk?
  7. Oye! I’m here to “teach” – you learn, understand? I cannot be bothered by what’s going on in your home! Or, if you are concerned, it can become added stress when you involve in a domestic battleground, and your heart bleeds, most especially for the child, when you feel helpless.
  8. Teaching? That’s easy peasy? Who’s going to do the endless grading? The marklists? The organization of the Zoomabastically Phantastically Amazing Awesome Cultural/ Physical Education/ Management sponsored / Inter-ballistic School stuff? I mean the “gombetitions”??? Multi tasking is only one tiny tip of the deadly iceberg called teaching!
  9. Yeah yeah yeah! Shut the effing up is best, because once you voice your opinion, you get to market it, manage it, plan it and implement it. You see why many will be silent???

Sooooo… as Nivin Pauly goes, in “Bangalore Days” it ain’t just the consideration of the student population of which there is still a deliberation as to whether the situation is to warrant a explantion of such underrated aberration and dingolification of things without a least notion… you get it?

Yes, I’m still an ogre, but I shall tell you which kind. As a young lad in class 6, gazing horrifically when I confessed my true nature of being (ogre… duh!) said, Teacher! NO! Seriously! Then with a twinkle in his eye, he said, Ah! Like Shrek? Laughter exploded in the class! I joined and said yes, now, a bit like Shrek, because I don’t eat kids no more 😛

And finally, if there are those who read this and know of those who have been at the receiving end of the corporal punishment I had, in the Dark Ages, doled out, please convey my apologies for the same. I have, not much, by way of memory, but certainly those kids would 😀 If it were to make a difference to way I had been, this is the one thing I would most certainly change about the way I was! To my own two kids too 🙂 ❤

But. Would I want to change what I am, and how I am? Nyet. Nahin. And emphatic No. For being with the learner group has given me something I know I’d never, ever, ever, EVER get any place else. A sort of affection, that is hard to come by, esp. if you’ve been an ogre or no 🙂 ❤

Happy Teachers’ Day to everyone who teaches, mentors, guides, coaxes, persuades, nudges, niggles one to learn something, each day, or whenever possible! The world progresses because of such people!

********

“Teacher” Tattle covers most of the 5 Sept. posts here 🙂

Last year, on Teachers’ Day: LINK – and at the bottom of that page you can see the posts from the previous years 🙂 😀 Sigh. No escape, I tell ya 😛

P.S. Added here is an album of scanned images of perhaps the best bio ever, of a class and it’s class teacher. Made lovingly by my previous class (of the AK47 fame 😀 ) So you see, even Ogres have their redemption, when they reform. Other than Shrek, ie 😛 😛

Click on the images to see the writing, which is awesome, as awesome as the art work, which, if I am not mistaken is Harigovind’s? The ideas, of course, are…. I know whose all… 😀

1. The Cover page

1. The Cover page

2. The Fairy Tale, errr... begins!!!

2. The Fairy Tale, errr… begins!!!

3. The Hook!

3. The Hook!

4. The Plot Thickens!

4. The Plot Thickens!

5. Allusions galore -

5. Allusions galore – “obviously” – had to be!!!

6. The not-so-forever-after. Obviously!!!

6. The not-so-forever-after. Obviously!!!

7. The Amazing Likeness, in the fantastic close, to my AK 47

7. The Amazing Likeness, in the fantastic close, to my AK 47

2-5 September, 2015 for 5 September, 2015.


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The Magic of Revisiting Innocence!

Mornings of slurpy kisses
Waking to a world
Flecked sun-bright, as you are,
With an impish delight!

Yup! Kurumbiiiii

Yup! Kurumbiiiii

Days of playing, on loop,
Peek-a-boo or
I-hide-and-you-seek-
Each game a gurgling delight!

Olichuuu... pidichuuuu :D

Olichuuu… pidichuuuu 😀

Spending hours, harvesting happiness,
From looks, hugs, laughter,

Even tears that fall like
Sweet summer showers!

Each of those hours
Reflecting how it has been
With you and me!
And through her, who is yours

Achudu!!!

Achudu!!!

I reap that same harvest
A thousand time over!

Dearest Arjun,

May time pass slowly,
When you’re doing things you love
And fly like the wind
When tasks overwhelm…

May you grow more content,
Yet, more excited and childlike
(If that is ever possible 😀 )
May you be brought up, right,
By your lovely lass (es) 😛

*Touchwood that those smiles always stay that sweet and happy!

*Touchwood that those smiles always stay that sweet and happy!

And may God ever keep
You loved, loving and lovable
As you always have been!

My Sun Child!

❤ Happy birthday from all of those who love you ❤

4 April, 2015, for 12 April, Arjun’s, the first born’s  Birthday 🙂
Day#12 of #NaPoWriMo 🙂 Blog Tradition here 🙂

From the previous years, this day:

2014

2013
2012
2011, and this 2011 again!
2010
And more if you just click HERE 🙂