Friday, April 29, 2005

New Search - II

Unusually, I woke up early that morning, just to create a feel good atmosphere. Greeted Anamica and went to collect the newspaper. My mother gave an astounding look, trying to pinch herself. My good morning starts at 11.AM on Sundays. Anamica was not less aware of that fact. Thought of settling down with newspaper, sipping the hot coffee. I was courteous enough to offer a cup to Anamica, which she politely refused. Think Conscience do not have the habit of eating and drinking. I was in no mood to offer for the second time and just continued my work.

I spent almost an hour with paper and felt guilty for leaving her alone. But she did not seem to mind it and made it clear to me that I was under no obligation to entertain her and she just wanted to accompany me the whole day and intrude only when she felt as necessary. That made me feel lighter. I was expecting a call from my friend. We waste no Sundays and have taken an oath to share our wealth with fellow citizens, who happen to be shop owners. Ours is a great combination, and hunting book, music and cloth shops is our favorite pastime.

I was feeling great that time. I need no reason to feel happy. If I am happy, I am uncontrollable. (Not that otherwise I am controllable!). Was singing a song closer to me as loudly as possible. Anamica was not happy to watch me like that. Came closer and hissed. “Why cannot you control your emotions? To my knowledge, nothing great happened here for you to be happy.” She did not even shut her mouth and I was ready to open mine. “See my dear. I am no saint. Neither I want u to make me one. I warn you, never ever interrupt me when I sing. For that is the worst thing I hate.” I knew I was curt. But that undue interruption did affect my privacy.

My friend rang up and told that she could not accompany me, as she was preoccupied with too many things. I was disappointed greatly and started wondering what I would do for the rest of the day. I was lying on bed idly, gazing the fan. Anamica came near me, and sat beside. I got up and smiled at her. “What happened to your exuberance? Why r u silent now?” . I looked at her vaguely, and said, “This happens with me many a times. My emotions keep on changing, and the persons moving with me find it diffcult to adjust their wavelength according to my mood. Not that now I am sad because my friend did not turn up. But some ambiguity catches me, making me dull and meek.”

Now Anamica sat comfortably, as if ready to give me a lecture. But lectures always irritated me. I find myself too wise to listen someone advising me! But again I was wrong. She just wanted me to speak and asked what makes me sad or let down, most of the times. I now came out with my list. “When I find that my friends no longer need me the way they needed earlier. When I find I am not up to the mark. When I find I am idle. When I find someone is not straight enough to quarrel with me and not good enough to befriend me. When I find that people around me are mean. When I find that I cannot reciprocate to their meanness. When I realize that it is me alone who can solve the problem and no soul on earth can help me. When I find…”.

It is all enough, said Anamica. “Now tell me what makes you happy?”. And again the list went on. “I am happy when I am appreciated. I am happy when I see my gang. I am happy when my mother pats me. I am happy when I read a good book. I am happy when I write. I am happy when I hear songs. I am happy when I spend. I am happy when I have company of good friend, I am happy when something makes me feel great. And I know u surely won’t be happy, if I keep on lengthening this list.”

She just smiled and this time she was really coming out with a lecture. Though I was in a mood to lend my ears now. “So, to a great extent, people around you influence your mood. Right?” I nodded humbly. “That shows you are dependent on others for being happy. Right?” This irritated me slightly. “You mean to say, an ordinary person like me can achieve that sort of independence so as to isolate her from the rest of the universe and feel blissful all the time? That is closer to impossible. Tell me something which is achievable.”

She patiently continued. “No. Again you got me wrong. I never said that you should isolate yourself from these things. Neither you are that much mature to do that, nor that it is expected from you. What I say is, give others what you want to get. That is simple logic. No great maturity is needed to appreciate this. What you sow, so you reap.”

“Oh, what a great lesson for the day. I learnt it when I was in class first.” I started laughing for my own joke. She was in no mood to enjoy. “That is what I say. You did not grasp what you teacher told that day. I am just trying to remind u that again. Not that the thing, which you read earlier, holds good only in book.”

That was too boring for me. I came close to yawning and was worrying that could hurt her. Thankfully, my mother came to my rescue, offering me some food to eat. I just escaped in that small gap, and sat before TV, enjoying the food.



Thursday, April 28, 2005

New Search - I

That was a usual night stroll in my terrace. I was walking blissfully, enjoying the wonderful moon and clear sky. Terrace as such was carrying a darker shade, as the lights needed a revamp. I just took a long stretch and reached one darker corner. Suddenly felt someone was following me. I gave a panicked turn only to find emptiness around. I felt terribly humiliated and felt sheepish for being coward.

My first stretch to dark corner was unintentional. But this time I decided to go there wontedly so to do away with my silly thoughts. Exactly when I reached that dark corner, I strongly felt someone behind me, and bringing all courage, I turned back. No, I saw nothing. This time, I was trembling. But, ya, I was hearing something. Just cornered the fear for a while and was trying to concentrate. I could now see one woman standing near me. Before I could gather guts to open my mouth, she started speaking.

“Wondering who I am? Got bored living with you for such long years. Still confused? Have not you seen tamil movies? I am your conscience. For you to recognize me I have come in white and white kurta and still you are giving a wild look. Never thought you can be so dumb.”

That piece of info was enough for me to recover. Gave a relieved sign and made sure that she did not notice that I was terribly frightened. I could not tolerate someone yelling at me. Wanted to put her down and said, “Calling me a dumb? In my whole history, not even once I felt your need. Wonder what you have been doing the whole years. Now that you have come out, want me to feed you daily?” For sure I expected her to give a bash, for I could not think her to be much different from me. After all, she is my inner self.

But I was wrong. She was extremely matured and charming. She saw me apologetically, as if feeling guilty for her harsh way of starting a conversation. That look soothed me and I just cooled down. I positioned myself comfortably and was looking at her, trying to read her intentions. A brilliant she, hmm, can I call her Anamica? Ya, a brilliant Anamica, read my mind and said, “See my girl, every individual should look back her life and refine her at some point. It has been a high time now, since you have lived a bit more than quarter century and I don’t see you getting matured. Thought I will stay with you for sometime and mend you. How about this idea of mine?”

I was yearning for a mentor since a long time, and was determined to utilize this opportunity. Before giving a nod, I was worrying about my privacy. She mocked at me and said, “You silly girl, I have been with you all these years in every single moment of your life and you are worrying about your privacy? Forget it. You will be comfortable.”

My first opinion about her was already the best and I came close to give a sure yes. She convinced me and the deal was a day with me. A day is not an unbearable time to spend with a stranger even, and she being my conscience, will not make the day worse, I thought.

By this time, my mother called me down. I just said goodnight to her, promising to entertain her the next day and went inside excitedly.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Forgotton Feeling

There was more than one way to show our affinity towards motherland in olden days. You can choose to be a warrior, or a faithful messenger, and options were running to pages. During british rule, the wonderful way was to revolt against them. Oh, came freedom and we people started exploring all possible ways to show our patriotism.

Ever thought a set of 11 men can invoke the intricate feeling of patriotism, irrespective of their level of loyalty towards the Nation or the game itself? Who cares whether Manmohan manages to retain Kashmir from bull eyed musharaff? All we need is a turbulent victory in ODI. We forgive them when they are defeated by Srilanka, or even by the coyly Kenya, but not when bowled out by pak. Poor players become vulnerable target of the patriotic souls in India.

Regarding hospitality, we are unbeatable. Should not we be happy enough to greet great general musharaff who conspired Kargil, and who happily eggs on terrorism in Kashmir? A great Indian weaver from Hyderabad presented him a hyderabadi shwerwani, which costed him in lakhs, vehemently disapproving to take any money from Indian Government. Ya, we are uniquely patriotic.

And yes, the portrayal by media should not be ignored here. The top cover story was the places of interest of musharaff and his begum. Trivial things enthuse media, diluting the pertinence of the issue under question. I wonder he is the first diplomat given such a big coverage after Clinton and his family.

Come some calamity, every Indian will long for his turn to serve the deprived. We care little for our old parents; think very little about our fellow neighbor, even less about the deprived children doing petty jobs. But the patriotism phobia drives one mad during the calamity period. Funds from all over India converge to a single point, media will be busy covering the sufferings of people and ineptness of the local government, politicians will be busy blaming each other and we public will be busy sending whatever we can.

The recent occasion to show our patriotism was when TN got tsunamied. The affected got more than what they needed. They were no longer in a mood to accept your old cloth. They demanded from public, found it easy to lie down and eat, blamed the whole India for their state. And if you are someone who decline to contribute to them, beware you will be branded as an agmark anti Indian.

To add to this, we feel inferior and insecure about our roots. “Oh, what a poor Nation India is. What sort of mass She has? Think the citizens will improvise the motherland? No way.” Educated masterminds in our country, who diligently perform their duty of degrading our own Nation, commonly utter these lines. Signing heavily hearing about other nations, undermining our own capacity, feeling low about our self are the dangerous turns that patriotism has taken.

Won’t we realize our capacities? Can’t we measure our achievements? Can’t we bring peace in the house of a needy? Can’t we do away with the mocking foreign institutions money? Can’t our mind be broad enough to think about the deprived few around us? Won’t our Nation prosper if we are determined? And at last, will the citizens hear the cry of this patriotic Indian?

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Who is He?

The day was demanding and I was utterly tired. I retired to sofa, munching chips to pacify my crying stomach, but it claimed more. So, happily ate whatever was served on my plate and was wondering how could I while away my time.

My mother, who was silent till then, opened her mouth once I was done with my plate. Told me that my cousin brother died in an accident. That was a terrible shock to me. He was just 28-year-old chap, married just a year ago. Though we were not closely knit with that family, I always liked him a lot for he was straightforward and genuine. He earned in lakhs, all because of his own will and efforts, and gave solace to his widow mother. I felt bad for his young wife.

Only the terrible moments like this make us to think about God. Usual dialogue is, “No one knows what will happen tomorrow. It is He who disposes.” I wondered if at all He is there? What role He plays in my life?

When I analyse my 26 years on earth, I realize that nothing was out of my hands. I am blessed with good parents. Was showered with opportunities and I chose the one I liked. Did my best. For me, the rewards were proportional to my work and if at all I am thankful that is only to my parents.

When something went wrong, every time I had a chance to blame myself than any one else. Equally, when something goes right, I don’t hesitate to take the credit, for I am very much a part of it. So, my life goes by logic. Hence I don’t believe that God will make magic. Hey, sounds rhyming. Seems that I have become a poet. Forget it and now back to subject.

One thing, which I have noticed, is that success comes more easily to some than lot others. Probably, that they term it as luck. For some, life is always a cakewalk, while for others, it is a difficult climb. Does this mean that God has a say in these persons life? Then, why does not He uses his logic and goes by something which we do not understand? If His world goes by logic, why I am not able to catch that logic?

At this point, let me accept one thing. I have felt His presence. But still confused. Is the one which is driving me is my mind power or God power? When I am given a terrible hit, I won’t allow it to let me lay on my bed for days together. I am quick to bounce back to life, with all mental energy. Who gives me this strength? Am I blessed with this to make up for the ones I am deprived off? Does this mean that every ones life is as balanced as that of mine?

No, I cannot come up with an answer. That will be too much from me. He has different meaning and different form in everyone’s life and I am incapable of defining Him. Everyone perceives Him in his own way and loves Him uniquely. My conscience is my God. Or God is my conscience? Don’t know. But He is the one who always came to my rescue when I felt terribly bad. He is the one who gave me confidence to face the world. Hence my Lord, I fall on Your feet for making me stronger. I fall on Your feet for making me blessed. I fall on Your feet for making me what I am today.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Thrilling Threes

Three things play important role in my life. Coffee, Rasam and Music. Even a slight change in quality of any of these will displease my taste and ear buds equally, and I will ultimately conclude that they are worth to fill the dustbin.

Imagine drinking badly prepared coffee allied with chicory at the very start of the day! Oh, that is enough to destroy my day. Coffee is at its best, when it comes right to your bed, piping hot, and most importantly, served by someone who doesn’t mind you drinking it with foul mouth. Another occasion which demands coffee is immediately after taking any tiffen. Even a small gap passes like a yugam and the phase ends happily only when hot coffee is served.

Rasam, what can I say about it? The most divine food mankind has ever invented. So soothing and interesting that it brings an unexplainable harmony in your stomach. Hay, stop! Don’t conclude that all rasams bring harmony. The one which is non spicy, which has lot of tomato and which is hot, accompanied by brinjal kari and ulundu appalam only qualify for that.

And lastly music. Lot more to write about this. Nothing irritates me than a bad music. While a bad coffee or rasam spoils your mouth, a bad music spoils your mood. Music is loved for its quality. I strongly believe that it is not made to make you dance, but made to make you feel.

Want to feel energetic at the start of the day? I will suggest roaring Nithyashree’s cassettes as a good starter. Melody lovers can choose Unni Krishnan if at all they have the patience to bear with his occasional sticky and slow moving songs fit to be played on a national mourning day. But Vijay Siva is unparalleled, undissappointing singer gifted with majestic voice that his song would pep up even the most unlively guy on the earth. But I know very little about the old generation singers though.

And about the pollution in music, yes it is polluted when it comes out from a very bad throat or from someone who least bothers about music. For that reason, I hate playing Antakshari. Though the players have different motive than singing a good song, that never enthused me to do a chorus. Antakshari is like drinking coffee mixed with rasam while hearing Unni’s above-mentioned mourning songs. But views differ and I am sure that many of my friends will discard this straight away considering it as a statement by a clueless blabberer. Don’t be surprised if any one of them writes a lengthy blog to counter this.

Hay you, where r u running? Going to get some cds of Vijay siva? Don’t take my words for granted. This place is to pour my views. I don’t expect my mailbox to be full with complaints, for I issue no guarantee.

Friday, April 08, 2005

God I am blessed!

A small neglect, a small defeat, a small fight is all enough to put my mood off for a day. I curse the Lord for making me feeble, less blessed and at times prone to others’ attitude and activities. Depression is a common experience to many adults and I fall prey to it most often. It demands no solid reasons and blocks my mind as an unsolicited guest.

This week I was in one of those weaker moments, cursing God and myself for making me unfortunate. But then, how do I classify myself as unfortunate? Gave a deep thought about this issue.

That person is unfortunate who has narrow and mean mind. When I see self-centered people, giving a contracted definition for every aspect of life, judging people with their own biased lens, praying to God for their own well being, opening their mouth only to speak about the concerns of their life, shunning other person ruthlessly at the hour of need, I deeply mourn for them. They play an endless game of catching happiness, in which they find themselves always in race, never winning the trophy.

That person is really unfortunate who has the incapacity to think. Dimness with added arrogance is the height of ill fate. Inability to mend one’s own life, being in dark about the bends, which are to be straightened and being content with the timid goals demanding no great efforts, corners one to the verge of life.

That person is unfortunate who runs behind money. Life is a beautiful garden with rich trees and sweet flowers. Beware, water is needed only to nourish the garden, and a flood will definitely ruin it. Finer aspects of life are almost forgotten, and fake things delight them more. A simple food, which is hand eaten, skillfully served on green leaves kept on the floor, delights me more than the one consumed at expensive dining tables with silver spoon. The thing, which separates us from our tradition, which makes us to easily ignore and underrate others, makes one live in illusion for the whole life.

That person is unfortunate who is timid. Courage is a wonderful aspect in human life, which prepares one to venture into unexplored and uncovered path. A worst thing, which can happen to one, is to submit oneself to other’s dominance. A fierce fight, at the needy hour to get back the lost glory is a best feed for one’s self respect.

But I know, I have none of these traits. I have trained or rather forced my mind to go through a wider circle. (Ya, still it is a circle). I have trained my mouth not to talk filthy issues. My hands are wider enough to reach atleast few needy. I am capable enough to analyze my weakness and skilful enough to rectify them. Money never thrilled me, as I take pleasure in doing what my heart dreams. I work for my dreams to come true. And when I have to bark, I make sure I do, feeding my self-respect.

Then why the hell I feel depressed? What made me feel bad about myself? Don’t I have the superior and blessed soul than lot others? Am I not the most fortunate creature gifted with the crucial talents? Should I not thank God for making me blessed? “Oh come on lady. You can do wonders.” Told these words to myself, walked cheerfully to lay one more brick for my glowing future.