Happyness

                    Happiness is...

...holding your niece close to your chest..

          ...a new cat choosing you, when you are not expecting it..

...looking forward to new beginnings, for every sunrise is a promise...

Random

There are some topics that I do not dare to write on a paper. 

Writings on a paper is more honest and true, just because it's not easy to erase.

You can scratch as hard as you want, but your first choice of words, your true feeling, even the ones you taught your mind as silly or superficial, stares back at you, piercing right through your heart, causing tears to roll down your cheeks.

The words that your fingers scribble, before your mind can process the correctness or niceness or relevance or bluntness or if it is utter nonsense, are the ones that your heart says. 

The impressions the tear drops makes on paper is the seal of trust the words carry.

Fingers on paper listen to heart. 

Back to the roots

I hated lockdown from day one. 

And I realise now how much of control issues I had. I hated the idea of being restricted and controlled. I hated being forced to stay indoors. I don't mind staying indoors if that was my choice, but here being forced into that situation was stressing me out. 

Now sitting at my home, with my parents and my brother it almost feels like I am back in time. I never thought this would be possible. It wouldn't be happening without this whole corona scenario of course. Now I am starting to like lockdown, and am almost scared if it is going to get over any soon 😀

Early palakkadan mornings

Some ghazal music, a cup of light tea and all-healing early morning sun rays 😌😌

     Finally I am ready to love myself again💗

"Its Elementary, Watson"

 This 60 year old, bald headed, eccentric, cold, drug using detective impressed me with his intelligence. As a teenager, how much did I wish he was a real person. How much did I wish to be infront of his house in Baker Steet, 221 B, London. How jealous I was of Irene Adler. How much did I envy  Watson.

Watson: "It was worth a wound; it was worth many wounds; to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain. All my years of humble but single-minded service culminated in that moment of revelation."

About Adler: "To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. ... And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory."

The gods and the mortals

Bye bye cozy corner

Change

13 years ago when I joined Siemens Healthcare as a fresher, many people asked if I had studied medicine to work for a healthcare company. I used to tell them that its just like developing software for a game or a bank, here we just develop software for hospitals.

During one of these initial days, the management team visited from Germany and in one of the sessions we were shown the scans of a cancer patient, before and after the radiation treatment. He explained how the tumor has visibly reduced with the treatment and the patient was recovering from a critical disease. Radiation treatment was performed by our product- Particle Therapy Treatment Planning System- the software product for which I have also contributed in my limited capacity. That was one of the defining moments for me, I left that session with a renewed sense of purpose and responsibility.

Since then, I wrote every piece of code or design that I create with utmost care and passion, knowing fully well that, what I do today has a direct impact on peoples lives.

6 years later when I joined Philips, it did not feel like cheering for the other side, because I was aware that my job is touching people's life and that is all that mattered. I ran away from bigger responsibilities in Siemens, because I thought I am not ready, what if I fail. While joining Philips I thought myself as a fresher still, but Philips pushed me to new responsibilities trusting my capabilities. 

But change is always good and change is what is needed the most at present. 

Ramanan

There will be no malayali who doesn't know Ramanan. He was the symbol of romantic love and loss and desperation. I like to call him, the mallu Devdas, even though its unfair to Ramanan, because Ramanan is nothing like Devdas in personality. But yea, the the whole idea is same.

The story line is cliché: Lover boy, Ramanan, who is a poor shepherd in love with rich and beautiful Chandrika. Ramanan being a gentleman to the fingertips like to keep his relationship with Chandrika completely platonic. He warns her of the consequences if they want to be together - the not so forgiving society and  poverty. Chandrika convinces him that her love for him is unwavering, and society has not interfere in matters of heart. Her only happiness is to be with him, materialistic pleasures does not bother her. Convinced of her commitment and her deep love for him, poor Ramanan is ecstatic, but his happiness is short lived.

Her family pressurizes her to marry another person (obviously!) who satisfies their status, and she, though unhappy (of course!) agrees to her parent's wishes. A depressed, desperate, angry and broken hearted Ramanan, commits suicide by hanging himself, and of course, on her wedding day.

So, every one know the story. Most of them also know that this is a real story that happened to the Poet Changampuzha KrishnaPillai's closed friend and also a writer Edappalli. Probably it is this, that made this poem a rage at that time, making it one of the bestselling poem's of all time. And yes, Ramanan represented many heartbroken young men, and Chandrika the vicious cold hearted young women.

Even though, I have read some part of this poem at various stages  of my life, for example the description of nature and forest in my school, the romance between the couple in the form of songs of the movie, the emotional breakdown of Ramanan again from the movie song, but they don't really give a clear picture abut what was in Chandrika's mind? Why did she do what she did? I thought it was not given its due importance, the whole narrative is from Ramanan's view point. I thought may be something is more in the book.

That's the reason I decided to read the poem myself to see if Chandrika has something to say. But unfortunately the poem also ends up glorifying Ramanan. How he was the skeptic in the relationship and how Chandrika convinced of her love to him, how her parents will never say anything against her wishes, how she is not bothered about societies perceptions. And yet the only justification that she gives to marry another person is that she cannot go against her parents wishes! She doesn't even meet him in person to tell him.

I mean, yes if your closed friend commits suicide because of a failed love affair, the normal thing to do is to write a poem to express your hate towards society and romance and throw some mud at the person who you think is responsible 😏My problem with the poem is its a bit shallow, and a bit materialistic and superficial somehow, I am not really convinced about the whole setup 😃

 

Hidden Gems

So, its 8th day of self quarantine.

I have not really stayed for long time at my in laws place. I used to stay for short number of days and next time I am there, I would have forgotten which switch is for what 😊

Now that I am confined to the floor, and is going to be here for quite some time, I am considering setting up my cozy corner here. And I found the perfect place. It is a balcony where all the junk of the house is placed. Its like our own room-of-requirement 😂. 

Since I cannot  help out in kitchen or other chores, I decided to clean this place up. The book shelf was dusty and old and I did dig up many interesting and unused gems! 

An old book shelf. I already have my reading list ready now. Aadujeevitham, Ramanan, Saphalamee Yatra. All of these are in moth eaten condition, but that shall not be a problem. I am sure i will find more books here that i can read unlike the book collection at my home in palakkad. There its mostly Karl Marx, Lenin, Stalin, Ho Chi Minh, Mao Tse Tung, EMS and AKG 😂 And i have had enough of that growing up. 

Now I have cleaned up a rocking chair for myself to chill with a book listening to rain and squirrells. And a mosquito coil. Ahh.. The mosquitoes here arebthe size of a bird unlike in bangalore. 

Made a small childens bookshelf out of some old wooden planks, sorted out childrens books from the collection and arranged it in the new bookshelf for my daughter and my niece to read. 

Found another wooden planks to do wood painting for my daughter. She needs some time pass. And yes some undisturbed time for myself 😊

Cleaned up the old treadmill which has begun rusting and yes! it is working. 

Now my cozy corner is almost set. Yay! 

I am kind of proud about my self to have achieved this much in this time 😊

Now all i need is a little discipline 😁 to keep up my mental and physical health. 

Aadujeevitham

 "The stories about lives that we have not lived ourselves are just fictions for us"

Aadujeevitham:The survival story of a young man as a shepherd in the deserts, enduring slavery, under his Arab master. 

I liked the story and yes it has every potential of being made a movie out of. And yes Prithviraj will make a very convincing Najeeb. 

Most of the time, when I read a book, I try to find a character similar to me, and while reading I perceive the story from that characters point of view. Even though there was little for me to relate to the protagonist or any other character in this story, I never lost interest while reading it. 

The difficulty in writing this book, for the author, would have been, I think, the fact that, there is not much to talk about, as a story, other than the thoughts and difficulties of Najeeb. There are not many characters other than Najeeb, Arbab and of course goats. And the challange would have been to write it in a way that does not drag or repeat. The writer was able to do that, to make us empathize with Najeeb, without getting us bored. There are couple of instances in the book, where anybody with a strong sense of empathy would have tears in their eyes before turning the last page. (Yes, I cried when Hakeem died 😔) 

The secret of Najeeb's survival is his unwavering belief in God, and his sense of positivity from the beginning to end. From everything in the story Najeeb was a good man, he overcomes his worst experiences in life and loneliness by believing in his God and finding solace in only living things he found around him - Goats - so much so that he became one of them. 

Whats interesting is that he even empathized with his torturer! He never did anything bad to his Arbab, even when he had the chance, and had his reasons to do so, instead he chose to trust in God. He believed God will show him another way.  And yes he and his torturer prayed to the same God. 

"If you ask me which is the most beautiful sight I have seen in my life, it is sunset in the desert. The sun moves like a tortoise making its way under the sand. He comes slowly and stealthily and drowns behind the sand dunes. I used to wish at that moment that Sainu was with me to share this sight. Even though I have said that the thoughts of my village, my home or Sainu is no longer in me, it is in these moments like this that she comes into my mind. And then I miss her. Not having a person to share a beautiful sight is the worst kind sadness of life."

Quarantined!

 Finally, after weeks of deliberation, we are at Calicut and in home quarantine (mostly its floor quarantine 😃) And yes nature did not disappoint, was welcomed with heavy non stop rains and  music by crickets whole day and night.

I was expecting it to be a relaxed time now with only one more month left in Philips, but things doesnt look that way. Anyway, even with all the work pressure, now i feel less stressed, able to sleep properly at night and even finding time to read a new book. The book shelf here has triggered the reader in me.

I have started with a book - Aadujeevitham by Benyamin. I had wanted to read this book from long time, but never got time. i want to fnish this book before the movie comes out, so that i can have an independent opinion about the story, and avoid getting biased by the movie.

i am not against movie adaptations of books, but once a movie comes out on any book or personality, the movie just hijacks the google search results of the story or the real personality, which i think is unfair. Google should do better!

Don't get me wrong, I am eagerly waiting for the movie. Blessy-Prithviraj-AR Rahman combination is something that cannot be missed at any cost!

Onam 2020

Onam

We all know the different stories behind Onam's origin : for some it is a harvest festival, for others it is the day when good old King Mahabali comes back to visit his people once in every year. 

But for me Onam is a nostalgia. 

No, I didn't have the luxuries of elaborate Onam celebrations that kids these days enjoy. Being part of a lower middle class family, it just meant that Onam is special, because it the time when I will get a new dress, no matter what the financial situation of the family at that point. The only other special day when i will get a new dress was my Birthday.  

But more than that, this is that time of the year when nature is at the best. All greenery around, and plants filled with flowers, birds and squirrels. And schools will also be having onam vacations meaning, no worry of studies, and lot of time to play and enjoy nature. 

We never used to buy flowers for pookalam, because flowers used to be in abundance around the house. Me and my brother used to put a small pookalam all 10 days early morning. 

Sadya used to be really simple, only special used to be payasam.

It was simple but it was special.

Being in Bangalore and celebrating Onam in a flat is of course different. I used to think it is boring, but then i realized that this is how I can build memories for my daughter, my disappointment in the new age Onam celebrations should not stop her from building her own memories. 

We buy flowers, make elaborate Onasadya, dress up in kasavu and take pictures. Its different but it is also nice. 

Sunrise today was beautiful, I should get up early more often. Chants from neighboring temple and the wake up crowing of some rooster near by did make it special. We don't need anything big to experience  special, its just the simple and small things that matters.

Lockdown Gardening

I am trying to build a cozy spot for myself in my balcony. When we moved here there were a lot of plants but they dried away because I never cared for them. Now with me and charu being at home, we have created my small balcony garden with veggies and other plants. We have green chillies, potato, amaranthus, aloe vera, bitter gourd. I have big plans with bitter gourd, I sure hope it will keep up with my expectations.

I now need a cozy swing and cusions and blanket and a tea table and some books.. And yes drizzling rain.. Wow.. Heaven. 

Too early to dream, but I am hopeful 😊

Freedom

How does it feel to be a leaf that just floats over a slow stream of water. It doesnt have a destination, or a defined path, dont have to make any decisions. Just trust the wind or the stream, enjoy the calmness, or sometimes the turbulance. 

An unanswered prayer

Little Riya twisted and turned on her bed sleepless, on one of the cold nights of January. It was that time of the year when strong palakkadan winds were lashing against her windows. It was not the winds that kept her awake, but her mind that was not at ease. Her mother was sleeping next to her, she can her her soft breathing. Riya felt sad and angry at the same time. How can her mother sleep without a care in this world, especially tonight?

It all had began when her uncle bought a puppy to her house. He said he found it in streets alone, and Riya could keep it as a pet if she wanted to. She took a good look at the puppy, appeared brown, very innocent and cute and lively, but she also noticed that the puppy was infested with fleas and ticks. But she immediately knew she wanted it and looked at her father. He was not so happy with the idea of having a dog running around the house. But had to relent to Riya's requests. 

They took him to bathroom and dipped in a small bucket full of water and shampoo. They removed the ticks with tweasers and scrubbed his fur with cloth brush. Puppy was bathing for the first time probably and was so confused what was happening, but he was so happy and excited to play with them and cooperated with them completely while they cleaned him. After bath his real color came out- he was pitch black.. They named him Blacky, and kept him outside the house tied up.

Blacky was very smart and active and playful. He used to wait for Riya to come back from school and jump over her as soon as she came down the school van. Riya was so happy to play with him, she used to feed him and bathe him. Some months passed by and Blacky grew up and so did their friendship and bond. 

One day Riya came back from school to see Blacky was lying down and didnt come up to play. He looked tired and sad. Her mother said he was not feeling well, was vomiting continuously and not eating anything since morning. Riya sat with him, took his head in her lap. He licked her hand. She said to him "Dont worry.. everything will be fine by morning. You just take rest".

When her father came back from office she asked if they can take Blacky to hospital. There were no veterinary doctors near by, and her father told to wait for tomorrow. If he is not fine by then we can take him to some doctor.

That night she asked her mother if Blacky is going to die. Her mother said she dont know, Blacky is really not well, and she has never seen him like this before, so lets hope he is fine by tomorrow.

Lying next to her sleeping mother, Riya couldn't sleep and kept on thinking about Blacky. What if he dies? Will he go to heaven? Will he remain invisible watching over her and only that she will not be able to him anymore? What happens if he dies?

The only time she saw some one dead was her maternal great grandmother whom she called valiyammamma. She was old and kind lady with flowing white hair, always wearing white blouse and mundu. She used to sit in the varandah with her box of beetle leaves, running her finger through her wet hair removing tangles from her hair after a bath. Riya has never seen her using a comb. Riya has heard stories about valiyammamma, how fierce and independent lady she was when she was younger.  

On the day when her valiyammamma died, Riya went to her mothers house with her parents. There she heard bits and pieces of conversations and all she could make out was that they are going to keep her valiyammamma  on a pile of wood and going to burn her in the field behind their house.

Riya was sad and confused. What if  valiyammamma was not dead? When the fire burns through her body will she feel pain? What happens to her white hair when it catches fire?  

She was not allowed to watch the cremation. That night she dreamt of valiyammamma sitting in a swing with her stretched legs, her beetle leaves box on her lap and her fingers running through her flowing while hair untangling them. She was smiling at Riya in her dream. She appeared calm and happy.

Riya dint want Blacky to die. Thinking about him made her eyes welled up with tears. May be she should pray to God to spare his life. She was not sure if God existed. Her parents did not teach her about God or anything about how to pray. Her grandmother used to take her to temple, but she wasnt very sure on what to ask God. She was taken to church regularly in her convent school, but there as well nobody taught her how to pray or what to pray. Should she pray for herself or for others? Asking something for oneself is it not selfish?

Lying in the bed that night she decided to pray to God. If He existed may be He will listen to her. She folded her hands and prayed "Dear God, please dont kill Blacky. I love him so much, if you must, take my life instead, but dont take him." 

She was scared to die and she was not very sure what good is it going to do if she is dead and Blacky lives. She cannot be with him anyway.

She folded her hands again and prayed "Please dont kill us both . We both want to live I will be a good girl forever."

She suddenly felt relieved somehow and turned around to hug her mother and fell asleep.

Next day morning she woke up and felt happy and hopeful, since she is not dead yet. Smiling and excited she ran outside house to Blacky. He was not there. She screamed at her mother asking where is Blacky.

"He was dead, dear. He was not moving and your father took him away to dispose him."

"But I prayed to God. How can he die?" She asked tears flowing down her eyes.

The lock down life

I am taking back everything that i said about me being an introvert.

I miss the cold breeze and morning sunshine, and waiting for school bus at apartment gate early morning. Watching people walking thier dogs or jogging. 

I miss my walk from home to bus stop. Busy morning buzzing with people beginning thier day. Labourers at the street food shop having their breakfast, i wonder they have enough food to eat now during lockdown. What is the woman who makes dosa at this shop doing now? 

I miss my bus ride to office. The time when I catch up on news or mails or just listen to music and observe people. 

I miss people at office. I miss coffee time with my friend. The time when we discuss everything under the sun.. Its the best therapy in the world. 

How I miss normalcy. 

The little me

Looks like it is nesting time for pigeons.

There is this one persistent pigeon trying to sneak in and build its nest in my utility area. I tried scaring it off multiple times, but it just refuses to give up. Now there are two eggs and this nest and this pigeon settled comfortably under my uitility sink.

I shooed the pigeon away and turned around to find wide eyed Charu looking straight back at me like how Greta Thurnburg would look at  Donald Trump. I knew what she was going to say even before she opened her mouth.

"Mommy, how would you feel, if you were that bird and I am that egg, and someone shooed  you away when you are with me? You yourself had said once that this world belongs to plants and animals and birds too."

I knew it. I would have said the same to my mother some 20 odd years ago.
And yes i did tell Charu once, when she was scared to climb a tree because it had ants, that the tree belongs to ants too and that we should learn to co-exist. I had told her about Vaikom Muhammad Basheer's short story  "Bhoomiyude Avakashikal" (The rightful inheritors of Earth), one of my favorite. 

Now there is no way that I can disregard her compassion and tenderness at this age, and I just hope she doesn't loose it ever. I could only visualize what I am going to do every Saturday morning from now on- scrubbing my utility off pigeon shit.

And if everything goes well for the pigeon family, take care of the little pigeons that will hatch in some days.

Wonderful!

Another Conversation

My 9 YO: Mom, I am home sick😔

Me: But you are home, darling

Her: No, home sick means I am sick of home..i want to go out.. 😕

Me: Nah, homesick means you are not home and want to go home. 

She: No, that cannot be.. So.. does seasick mean.. you not at sea but you want to go to sea? 

🙄🙄 

A conversation

My 9 YO : Mummy, can you sing the song that you always sing?

Me: Which one, darling? 

She: Something like *humming*

hmmmm... Hmmmm. Hmmmm

Me : 🤔🤔 Say some words from it

She: Something like.. ".. it's better if you don't talk at all.."

Me: What!!? Wait.. There is no song like this.. Are you sure this is a song... Aaaahhh.. Got it.. Is it "when you say nothing at all?"

She: Yep, that one 😁

Me:🙄🙄🙄 You *almost* ruined that song for me 😂😂

The Mirage

Have you ever chased a mirage?

The closer you get, the farther it moves away. 

And it's too late before you realize it's all just an illusion. 

All you are left with is desperation and hopelessness. 

The Trip

Flight was uneventful.. Other than the scary corona virus announcements, all went well. Met some of the travel mates from Airport had lunch and reached the pickup point. We were the first to reach and then slowly girls started arriving, and the guide too.

I was happy to see so many girls just like me, with passion to travel, women from all age groups, single, married, divorced, complicated 😃

I was expecting this to be a solo trip, but some of the girls were amazing, and we connected instantly. The interesting thing was, all the while i was thinking if i am normal to do so, but i found my tribe with same vibe, girls who think like me and act like me.

It was great trip, and amazing to meet these new people.

Manali is beautiful, and the place reminded me of Kirkwood. It was more fun than Kirkwood thanks to amazing company.

I am looking forward to more trips with this gang!

The D Day!

The Solo trip - Bangalore to Manali

7.00 AM

So today is the deed day 😊 Kissed all good byes.. Now on the way to airport, I am excited and nervous.. The usual 'did-i-forget-something' feeling 😁😁

So in the cab listening to music.. My headset is going to be my best friend for next three four days.. It has many uses other than listening to music.. Like fend off unwanted conversations, strangle some one for self defense 😂😂

My each day is different mood these days.. They range from sad, happy, excited, romantic or frustrated.. And I have a song for each mood.. Today's mood is special kind of romantic.. In the sense the feeling that you have when you begin a new relationship.. Not the one when you feel deeply in love 😊 so the song I am listening to in loop mode: