Subject to change!

Break ke baad, the series now returns on air, after 2 and 3/4 years. A vital character has been added to the storyline. All the other main and supporting members, missing none, make a comeback. And with the narrative being placed in an altogether different 'set' that could probably make interesting offerings to the direction the story could take, the hype surrounding the newer episodes is paramount. This time too the genre is expected to be an amalgamation of many things ranging from lighter, romantic, comical tones to soul-searching, experiments and growing up.

Over all it promises to be a very nice, varied and new experience.

~o~

With all wishes and prayers to heaven, I’m taking my first step tomorrow, hoping all things good, all things that bring Love, Comfort, Peace and Satisfaction find me where ever I'm.

Anubukke naan adimai aaga vendum

Arivukke en kaadhu ketka vendum

Vambukke pogaamal iruka vendum

Vanjaththai en nenjam marukka vendum

Panbukke uyir vaazha aasai vendum

Parivukke naan endrum paniya vendum

Nettriyinil kungumame niraya vendum

Kattradhellam men melum peruga vendum

En pakkam ivai ellam iruka vendum

Amma, ennodu nee endrum vaazha vendum

Will be back when I’m back!

Ore the pheelings!!

Kaarirulil sooriyan, neer alaiyil thamarai, thaagaththil kaayum paalai mannil vaanmazhai....

I’m skipping with joy at being back as a whole.

Kaathirundha naatkalil kaadhal oru aarudhal, kaanaamal sendru pinbu thondrum vaanavil...

But I’m kind of sad too. Little bit. I’m going to miss my life here. Although very thrilled at new prospects, somehow all this missing thingy is messing with it.

Wait, I have got some good ones to list, my personal favorites. What's not to miss about/ in/of these?

• Amma
• Vaasal kolam in the early morning hours on the swept, water sprinkled wet mud/cement
• Home, where the heart is. And the systematic way a life should be led. A way, time tested and successful and a way that tries to keep up with tradition as much as possible
• The mayakkum fragrance of Mallipoo and pichi poo and agarbhathis, soodam and Mysorepak
• The seasonal seduction of two of the mukkaannis-maa and pala
• SMS buddies
• Bikes. The sexy and romantic rides in bumpy roads
• Unlimited and guaranteed availability of baby-sitters (read grandparents) anytime of the day, even at the shortest notice
• Fire crackers during Diwali and sugarcanes during Pongal
• Kites and colors
• Maid to wash, sweep and clean. Someone to iron clothes. Someone to deliver fresh milk at doorsteps every morning. Someone to get sugar from Raation kadai. Like what one Client said, ‘In India, you can afford to live life King like, by the normal middle class too.’ Maybe we do.
• Parent’s home comforts. Where I can lounge and can expect to be served delicious norukku theenis with filter kaapi; Where I can sleep through migraine pains and not care or worry about the little one and the big one; Where I can mindlessly yell and somehow get a clear head from that. If I were a King my parents would be my scepter (or that thing whatever it is called which the Royalty holds in his hands and taps it in front of him keeping in rhythm with his steps)
• Suda suda Aanadha Vikatan and Kumudam on Thursday mornings.
• Noise. Just about everything is loud – the phones, the vehicles, the speaker playing questionable bhakthi songs at the local Amman kovil, neighborhood kids
• Step out of the house and throw out your wand-hand and you get rides to just about anywhere, the real public services you know, autos and rickshaws and trains and buses.
• Temples. My support buffer. Will especially miss Mr. and Mrs. Kabali and their extremely beautiful Mylai residence. Dears, please watch over us wherever we are.
• Shopping with the crowd in Ranganathan Street, Usman road and Pangal park area.
• The sometimes ‘48 hours not enough’ weekends to fulfill all the postponed social visits, just dropping in on family elders, or certain mandated visit to the pukkathu folks.
• Weddings and the activities around it, pattu saris and kalyana saapaadu
• While walking through crowded streets or struggling to get a foot hold in a packed suburban train and the thrill of seeing someone from the past who is almost forgotten. The live kind of social networking.
• Power cuts and the candle lit, dark days with panai ollai visiri; a time when long forgotten family stories are dusted and retold in agal vellaku/ arikkan lamp velicham
• Paatis to make you feel that there are a lot to know in this world; and that only fools question tradition; and amaze you with their knowledge of random and long branched members of the family; and their knacks to remember all days and their importance without the need of a calendar. Hearing her talk about her childhood days makes me sad to realize how much I have lost touch with my proper roots and culture. [Funny thing is, she used to say that she was sad too when she was my age, but unlike me she felt that change was justified]
• The romance of the mottai maadi kaathu
• Occasional rains and the city looking beautifully green instead of the sickly, dusty, muddy brown

I’m sure there's so much more than these that I'm going to miss, more than I can account for here.

Leaving all this behind, I’m off to the land of extreme silence and unnatural neatness and screwed up notion of personal independence.

Let it snow... let it snow....

Gottago... to catch the handsome Jhonny in all his pirate-ness... Ahoy!

3 and half months of heartache

Wow... can’t believe it was only that much. Feels like eons more.

In movies, normally, in such very anticipated and dramatic situations, there will be shown a montage of significant moments, accompanied by soft and sensual background music. Wish how I feel now can also be that beautiful. But as is the case with this stupid normality I’m left all alone to deal with the recollections.

Ah, but there are one too many things that have happened. I don’t think I remember all of them. I’m not too sure that I even want to admit to remember few of them. During these past few days I had to deal with - the realization of particular dream, or wish you may say, a year too late; a career suicide yet again; separation with family; adding new responsibilities; monetary insecurities; un-favored dependency; seclusion; being glad of moving away from the clutches of insanity; oru kannil vennai and in the other sunnaambu stories; blunted emotions and many such ‘incidents’ which would make for a crunchy, spicy retelling on a snowy, winter noon. But every time when the head hits the pillows alone at night one thing is certain and that is it is not worth it. No. Definitely not!

But that’s all past, over and done with. And the madness is coming to an end. Thank you, merciful God. Thanks for the valuable experience. Yes, it was priceless in that it humbled me, made me learn few nuances of the many relationships I’m involved and it helped me set my priorities right. And I’m thankful it’s all over before I had a chance to slip and shatter the feigned poise and calm, and ‘bearing all with smiles’ facade, and especially in not having the voices inside my head audible.

This chaotic yet kind of numb phase of life was tolerable and I was able to look forward to the dawn of the day because of four significant people. I’m not going to tell anyone who’s who. If you know who, then thank them on my behalf. If you are one of the three reading this, then please note that I owe my sanity, or what’s left of it, to you. You may not know it; you may not have meant it that way, but your words, your company and sometimes even your absence and silence helped me through the day. Your veiled criticisms, harsh reminders and restricted emotional attachment were all my life-lines. I’m going to miss you. So.... although it’s not something you don’t know but... I love you. Still do, loads!

And this midnight the dawn will light my horizons. Loving hands and smiles are on the way with million dreams and hopes. And it will be like I’d never had to be alone. So here’s looking forward to the fun and sensible times. Uber excited to see how this new, much awaited episode is going to turn out to be. Of course!

Malarin kadhavondru thirakkindradho

Mounam veliyera thavikkindradho

Penmai pudhidhaga pirakkindradho

Uyiril amudhangal vazhigindradho......

The right kind of wrong...

What I’m about to tell you happened a few months ago. It’s my true story, you know. To give you the full picture I would need to backup a little... a ‘few years’ little.

We were best friends, she and I. We hit it off the moment we saw each other. She was as crazy as I was, we shared the same distaste for some movies, music and people, and our common interest were few but sincere and we were passionate about it. Her wave length matched mine. We were inseparable. Her friendship was solid, dependable, interesting and magical. She was such an angel. She is Meera.

But slowly, as is the case, things started to change. Or that was what I felt, being as good as I’m with those kind of things. I was sure I felt some undercurrent. From her end, that’s to say. And frankly I was not sure how I felt. I felt she seemed more inclined toward the ‘us'. That feeling intensified with the passing days. Although I was sure that if I proposed she would agree, definitely, I somehow did not take that step. The more I thought about it I was confused. I did not know how to deal with what I was feeling and what I should feel . That was where the intermission happened.

What followed was the usual cry fest, sob story rom-com, only that I couldn’t see the com part of it anytime. She waited. I hesitated. She moved on. I said. She denied. Then she said. I denied. And she had to move on.

Anyways, what’s important to the story I’m about to narrate is that we both moved on with our lives. She once said to me, in a very convoluted thread of conversation, to take hope in the fact that she was in a better place, and that she would hope the same for me. Maybe she was in a better place. But I doubt if I have ever had one such place. Ever since I decided to stay away from her hoping it was for the best, I have regretted it. Who’s best? Arguably hers, of course! No day passed when I didn’t feel like I had missed making mine the most precious thing that ever crossed my life. Every day when I saw young couples walking past me I have repented what I had lost. I had -still have- the nagging worry ‘What if no one else comes a-calling?’ And with loads of guilt at the fact that I had made the sweetest-of-all-hearts to go through much pain, I slept every night, hoping next day would make me feel better.

Years rolled on and life happened. Time really did heal the wound, although, as she would say, it did not have means to make me forget the memory of all the pain. But she was always in my mind, in the image of the petite girls I saw, in someone’s whispered laughter’s and giggles, through some dialogues and music, in a random scent. And I always smiled when I remembered her or if someone brought her up in conversations.

Being in such bizarre state of mind, you can imagine the high I would get if I was to meet her after a few years. She had called and I took the offer immediately. I wanted to see her more than anything, see how life had treated her, hear her voice again and see her look at me one more time. Although I dreaded seeing the remains of hatred that I last saw in her tearful eyes, I wanted to look at them again. I was ecstatic. Well, more than that.

And when I met her, I was shocked. Well, more than that. She had not changed a bit. It was like rewinding the time. She was as I left her that afternoon, in that food-court without even so much as a backward glance.

She looked good. Well, more than that. She looked as I remembered her. It was difficult to keep sense of time. Was it a dream? Was it for real? If that was what was real and if that was how my dream was too, then was that the real ‘dream come true’? Was it the lighting striking? Again? I mean, properly again?

She was surprised to see me too, I could sense from her expression. Maybe she did not anticipate me to just accept her invite. Perhaps she called as a mere formality. Or she could have been returning my previous call which she didn’t respond to except for a few cursory comments. So as I stood before her expecting a cold shouldered welcome she came over beaming.

We shook hands. I don’t think I would be able to explain the sensation that I felt that moment.

We talked for some time and the in-between dark days seemed like a bad dream. We discovered a lot of things. We spoke about things that were too difficult to discuss in the past. We non-stop argued on what transpired during the turbulent final episode of our friendship, understood why the other did what they did and how our actions had been interpreted.

Soon it was time to leave. I did not want the time to end. Neither did she, I felt. She had lots of reasons to leave. Somehow she was hesitant and I didn’t ask ‘what’s and ‘why’s. I was merely glad that she let me again in her life, and after all that I have put her through that she could talk to me again and let me be a friend.

I went to meet her that day resolving that whatever happened that day would be her choice and that I would take all the precaution that I could to make things go her way. It would all be her choice and her choosing. I wasn't ready to do that once before, but that day I was and so I would; I should, that’s only right, right?.

Finally when we had to make a move, when we couldn’t stall any longer where we were, she asked ‘Movie?’ And I believe I replied ‘if you want to’ to which I think she replied ‘Do you want me to me want it?’ or something idiotic like that. Finally the issue was resolved and we went to the movies when I replied, ‘I could make it happen if you want it to happen’. Her choice, you see! Whatever she wanted!

Inside, we were seated next to each other. I was consciously aware of the proximity and warmth of her body. If everyone would just shut up I would even hear her heartbeat. I silently wished it were too as accelerated as mine were. I noticed she was too sitting very stiffly, holding her hands rigidly on her lap. I wanted to rest mine on the hand-rest but as I felt I was already too near her, I kept my hands in my lap too.

We were silent. The weight of the past we had just discussed was weighing silently upon us. All we did talk about was the past and the past and nothing but it. Why didn’t I ask her about her current relationship? Why didn’t I even think, when we were seated in a brightly lit coffee shop, that she would have had the chance, that she could have had a life outside the realms of me?

The movie was about some nonsense of which you couldn’t pay me to care about. I had a more lively, entertaining situation going on beside me. Soon after the movie started she leaned a little to my side. She slowly placed her right hand on our hand-rest and sighed. I stole a look to her side but she seemed intent on the movie screen. But after a few moments she completely leaned to my side, so much so that there was touching. As my left hand was awkwardly placed in that cramped space I lifted it and placed nonchalantly over her seat’s headrest. She smiled a little and confidently leaned some more.

I was like... it was like... totally like... my salvation, way and way beyond my dreams. Although confessional-ly that was not true; my dreams had been worse. But , let's, for the sake of decent narration stick to the idea that that day was beyond wants. I knew what I had to do next and what I can do. But I was somehow hesitant. Few minutes passed and she made a slightly irritated and impatient noise and placed her hand on my hand that was above her seat and pulled it over her shoulders. It was like things fell in place. My face was mere inches form hers. I could smell her talc. I kissed her.

She abruptly turned toward me, pulling herself slightly away from my lips saying ‘DUDE! I leaned into you only because the guy next to me is leaning on me’.

Random nothings...

During this arduous week I have come to realize

• Destiny is much powerful and any mere human attempts to change it are nothing but a mockery. I so wanted to attend a function, was planning for it for months, was waiting for it for weeks, arranged important schedules around it, but looks like I’m going to be absent, for no fault of mine, but because I missed a routine and minor factor which .....

• When you want it postponed, that’s when it’s on or before time. When you want it ahead, that’s when it’s on or after time. When you want it on time that’s when it decides not to show up. So....

• There is no point in being angry and disappointed at something over which you have no control. This also goes for....

• Babies. They have their own rules of what they want. Most of the times it doesn’t make any real sense. If you even will it to change it results in tantrums and crying that takes the last drop of energy in your blood to put back right. But you don’t want to give in too. It’s a vicious and insane thing, this parenting. When the baby cries ‘Amma aanaam... doo...’ and would not let me lift her or come near her or in her vision, the heart literally bleeds out and life until that point seems a failure. That’s when....

• I feel the butterflies more. Fear of unknown or the anticipation of the future? Either ways....

• The need grows more. I’m still looking, more urgently, for that one person who is un-related, non label-able but who can be my all, my friend, my mentor, my spiritual aide, my enabler, my brother, my support.... Where the eff are you? If you ever read this, call me. I want to talk to you. Did you know...

• Few relations are beyond money. They spend for you, they work for you, they care for you, they listen to you when you are ranting, they comfort you when you are crying, they advise you exactly when you need it, they pick you up before you hit the bottom... all this unasked. I value them and should remember to value them forever. So...

• Why couldn’t gifts be roses and jasmines, kisses and hugs, cakes and balloons, best wishes and regards? Why couldn’t I be happy with just them? All these days why did I feel I need ‘things’ to make them prove how much I’m worth and show me what they think of me by buying ‘things’? All this packing is making me lose my interest in anything materialistic and make me want to embrace ‘Minimalistic living’. And why....

• Sometimes the feeling I’m losing everything sort of numbs me and why sometimes the feeling I have nothing to lose is a high? Maybe because....

• Strength of body is weirdly tied to the strength of mind. When you are un-interested though body is not tired it is a big chore to even raise a finger. When mind is in hyper drive you can continuously clean, pack and work without a break for 7 hours. Whatever....

• I want to take a piece of wet cloth and wipe the dirty, scribbled and scratched blackboard fresh. I want to write only those things there such that I won’t have the need in time to ever erase it.

As I stand in the middle of the living room with three huge boxes open in front of me, I realize what I really wanted to take with me will not fit in just those 3 of 23kgs. The memories and feelings left behind will definitely haunt me in the future silence.

When all this is going through me, someone asks, ‘So all set a? Excited a’ I just numbly smile at them and nod. Thank God for that strength.

The Nambikkai Iyarkkai

You are singularly special. You are the point of my convergence. You are my vision. You are my breath and the energy to take that breath. You are in my thoughts, blood and sinew. You give me wings and the air beneath it. You tether me to the grounds. We understand each other without effort. You comfort me with your hugs. You make me feel blessed with your kisses. You see me the way only you can, the way only you are allowed. You single me out for your needs. I confess, unashamedly, my love for you a hundred times over and never feel I have said enough. Your breath, your scent, your weight, your tears, your smiles are all very heavy, raw and yet tender in my heart. I will never be desensitized ever again.

You need no words to show how much you love me. I have no way to show how much I love you.

You make it incredibly difficult to hold on to you. You are so small but sometimes so hugely irritating. Most nights you drive me crazy. I resist. I give in. Sometimes, I feel lost and nervous, trying to give in to your demands and at the same time trying to put my foot down. But I’m never disheartened for I have in my holds your warm hands. Every morning is a brand new life. Your every smile is a miracle.

I never had to make an effort to love you, to think you are my life. It was so instant, so natural like blinking, like breathing and somehow a lot more easier than that. It was love at first sight... no, love at first thought... no, love at the first idea of you. Do you understand that?

I was walking along the shores alone for a long time. Something was missing with me, in me.

By God, I had many hands to hold me, love me and comfort me. Few walk behind me to steer me back on to course when I lose sight or track. One looks over me to make sure to guide me when I’m lost. One joined mid-way and has been beside me ever since to pick me up when I fall, to accompany me till the end. There are and were many hands than I could tell you. Some hands that held me I loved instantly. Some I learned to love. Some I wanted to hold on longer but couldn’t. Be it whatever, all hands that ever touched me have left their indelible mark on me.

But those all did not feel as if it was enough. I wanted more. I wanted a single pair of hands to do all that what the rest put together have tried to offer - to guide me, love me and let me be. I was willing to sacrifice anything to get someone to hold me that way. I wanted you. I was willing to forgo sleep, happiness, and sometimes even love of God just to be with you.

All my parayers were answered when I got you, God’s gift to me. Am I a worthy receiver? Can I take care of the most ever precious thing in my world? What have I done to get such a present, such an honor, to watch over the sweetest four toothed angel? I don't know nor should I worry about it.

I will love you in my every breath. And I will try to be as worthy of your love. Even if I need to forget everything else, I will. Even if I have to ignore the most basic needs, I would. Even if I'm sore I will do what you ask me to. I will do anything for you anytime. Promise. I will never be alone if I can see you in my mind, heart and soul. I will still not feel close enough, even if you cling to me like skin.

I get confused sometimes. Who is leading whom? Am I holding you protectively? Or are you guiding me safely?


You are my guiding hand. You trust me to guide you. Which ends when and which begins where is a mystery to me and to you.

I have not said enough. I dont know how to.

Is there any poem ever written to describe your sweetness? Is there any song which could try to say how I feel about you? Will there ever be?

Thangam vaangaliyo thangam...

Today is, the calendar says, Chithirai month, Thrithiyai thithi and Rohini star.

So today is “Akshaya Thrithiyai”, a fact that is being aani aduchufied into our brains by the many ads. For the past week, almost every other advertisement in TV is yelling about “May 5- 6 thedhigalil, Akshaya Thrithiyai munnitu...”. It has been going on hyper-drive, crazy mode. More so as this time we get two days of Thrithiyai instead of just one (previous evening and today morning). Kekanuma?

So even though it was Vanigar dhinam yesterday, the jewelries remained open. Of course, all the restrictions and regulations and the need to show solidarity between the vanigars are expected of only the small, corner petti kadai owners. They don’t apply to giants who bring in crores and above crores of money into the business, in just a matter of two days. Though majority of shops were closed yesterday (until 5 pm), the traffic flowing into Usman road and Pondy bazaar and Ranganathan street was heavy. In 104 degrees, with autos, buses and cars and two wheelers being blocked entrance into the area almost as far a mile away, people were said to have mochufied the jewelries. There was ‘no place for the shadow to fall on the ground’ in the ‘Times Square of Chennai’

A celebration, no, more of an observation that existed in the most orthodox of households has suddenly become a craze.

I don’t remember celebrating this day. Until 4-5 years back I didn’t even know that such a thing existed, though it isn’t much to boast. During the summer holidays, even if manga or naarthanga pachidhi or semiya payasam were served, it was treated in the same way as rasam and was gobbled down before rushing off to the interrupted games. So I don’t know or rather don’t remember if “Akshaya Thrithiyai” was observed in my household during my childhood in any which way.

Even our family’s personal Wikipedia, my Gramma feels says so. She explains that it is a vazhi vandha pazhakam to serve God and offer ‘cooling’ foods in kathiri veyil time. Not restricted to just this day, that during the Agni nakchatram, it’s good karma and good sense to have neer pandhal to serve neermoor and thayir saadam to passersby. And like every other offering to man, it has to be offered to God first. A morning dip in Cauvery was considered auspicious during those times. But with the river flowing in the backyard in our Aghrahaaram that particular activity was almost routine. It being a punya kalam, chanting of slokams and fasting was done by few, and that day being an auspicious one for Vishu/ Perumal, people visited temple and drank tulasi water. That’s pretty much about it, she says.

Stories, legends and myths, are retold on Sudama-Krishna-aval-hut to palace, and about the “Akshaya pathiram”. Chithirai’s Thrithiyai was (is?) supposedly first day of Threta yuga and is noted as the day the pullaiyaar suzhi for Mahabaratam was scripted by Mr. Vyas. (I’m not sure if these legends are connected because of ‘Akshaya’ name or did these incidents happen on the chithirai-thirthiyai-rohini. Anyone to explain?)

But in this Kaliyuga all else about dhaanam and bhakthi are forgotten and it has been reduced to a day when we have to buy jewels. Gold, nothing else. Or maybe ‘Selva thirumagal Lakshmi’ in Platinum. This has been a growing trend in just these few years. Had it been a craze in my Grammy’s time itself, gold rates would have been 10000 per gram during her wedding. (Why couldn’t she or my parents have bought all the gold they could when one savaran was selling at 500 or so. I could have taken a retirement now as a Crorepathi or something above that)

Closer at home, I did not even get a paal packet today, unfortunately. And last year being the first that was celebrated in our house hold with wee Daughtie, I managed to lose her one paown gold bangle/ bracelet.

Drishti kazhinjadhu po, my dad said.

Question:
• Is this a trend elsewhere in India too? Or is Chennai being the fore-runner?

• Kaazhiyoor Narayanan says today things that are white are ugandhadhu for God and advises us to buy Platinum things. Isn’t Silver white too? With the price it is selling at isn’t it precious too?

• Like “Happy Diwali” and “Happy Star-birthday” and “Happy first-time-I-saw-you anniversary”, will we be wishing “Happy Akshaya Thrithiyai” in some years to come? “Vizhaa kaala sirappu thallupadiaga...oru gram thangam vaanguvooruku oru glass thanneer tharapadum”. I can hear ads screaming.

• Will Archie’s and Landmark cash in on the current craze and introduce cards to celebrate the auspicious occasion. A red card with a small Lakshmi figurine in white and a few grains of yellowed rice stuck on top, tied up with yellow/ golden thread and a ‘May this day bring you good wealth, health and prosperity’ quote, would sell well. After all it has cards for Holi and Rakhi and all other ‘Whassit’ days.

Now we need to wait for Chithirai month’s Thrithiyai thithi and Rohini star to fall on a Monday to take this madness to its heights. When it does gold, per gram will be selling at 5000.

Whatever man.

Let it be known, that I too was part of the generation which ballooned a concept inappropriately out of proportion.

And here’s wishing everyone a “Happy Akshaya Thrithiyai”. Li’l one, from atop the bed headboard, says, ‘Aa-lau-iu’. Now thats golden.

A twist in the tale...

I was getting ready for the evening, tunelessly humming a popular song. I was concentrating on what to choose to wear. I purposely wanted to appear very non-formal. Finally, I settled on a faded light blue ‘abused’ pair of jeans and a striped black full arm t-shirt. I deliberately accessorized it with a weird ‘un-matching’ red scarf and off-color casual shoes.

Thus clothed, and convinced it was casual enough that I could be mistaken for someone out for the night with friends, I stepped out to attend the wedding reception of a very special person. He would see the humor in my clothes.

I wanted to reach the reception venue well ahead of time to get a few minutes alone with the bride and the groom. Oh! How I hated thinking of him that way? How I wish I was standing there next to him?

I thumbed the invitation to look for the ‘landmark’ information. The invitation was pretentious to the core. Should have been her choosing! Surely he would not have chosen such fancy and gaudy prints. If not anything, he had good taste.

Finally after many twists and turns I reached the party-hall. The board at the entrance announced the details. I entered the heavily decorated room. Though it was quarter past the time mentioned in the invite the celebrations had not started. On enquiring I was informed that the couple had not yet arrived. So, I settled myself in a seat far away from the blaring ‘light music' troupe that was yelling some supposedly popular songs.

The air was too warm inside. I loosened the scarf around my neck. I remembered the scarf only too well. He had gifted it to me, on a very significant occasion, kind of like a closing-a-deal thing. But that was all past, slotted to be forgotten, forbidden to be remembered.

We were together, happily, for a few years. It was wonderful. We never imagined that we could be separated. But it happened. We parted the moment he informed me of the alliance and the arrangement to marry her. How could he forget the time we spent together and go away to marry someone else, some stranger? I pleaded, begged and even threatened, to stop him from committing to her. But he did it anyway. With good reason, I hoped. He explained about his family and pressure and other stuffs which forced him to choose that marriage.

After weeks of moaning, mourning and tantrums, I was back to sanity. At least that was what I was letting the world know. The fact that he had chosen her, chosen her over me, pained me badly. I had no choice but had to get used to that fact. We met again, talked, and slowly things got normal as it could. We were back together as friends and just. I know it was not right. But I let it, for the simple reason of not being able to stay away from him. He, it seemed to me, encouraged it too. My continued presence even after his engagement, as expected, did not raise any suspicion. Such being the nature of our secret!

Those he gave as reasons when he invited me to his wedding. But I intentionally did not want to attend the ceremony for I didn’t imagine I could bear it. Though I pretended things were fine I could not stand to witness him becoming someone else’s and hear him reciting promising vows. It would haunt me for a long time, and such I had many other nightmares to care for already.

Time seemed to tick very slowly as I was in and out of my reverie. I got curious. What need for him to visit a Beauty-Salon? Why would he need make-up and grooming? He would look his best as it were and she wouldn’t look half as nice and half as worthy of him, I thought. I was also curious on how he would introduce me to her.

But wasn’t it true form of love to wish that your loved one’s happy with whoever they were with?

Finally the couple made an entrance, to raucous singing from the troupe, he in a faded pink Sherwani and she in a gaudy designer sari. He looked positively lovely. She looked like she would drip a kilo of oil by the time the functions would wind up.

He was holding her hands and was whispering something in her ears as they walked on to the dais. Cameras clicked madly trying to capture the bride blush. I would have done a better job faking it.

He saw me seated in the third row and waved. That was my cue. A queue had already formed to wish the couple. I joined the insanely slow processes of the march up the dais, listening to everyone’s opinion on the wedding. As I neared the end of the queue and was next in line to step into the limelight, he winked at me. I felt myself slipping into an involuntary smile, which I had promised I wouldn’t present him.

There was that one guy who was regulating our line. He would let a guest get near the couple and would give a meaningful look toward the professional cameraman. If even after the photo-op when the guest was not rushing to dinner, that person would significantly clear his throat, step forward to remove the gifts the guest had laid in the hands of the bride or the groom and would push the next-in-line-to-wish person to step forward.

Finally, I shook hands with the groom and wished the bride a happy and content married life. As I was talking to them, I heard a veiled cough from behind. A pair of hands came into view to remove the gift I normally should have given the couple. Finding none, he verbally asked the photo guy to hurry things along.

The photographer then dully looked at me and said, ‘Sir, neenga konjam Mapillai sidela nillunga!’

Death Star and the rest.

I have three things to say today. I was talking to a few people and reading and watching a few things yesterday. I chanced upon these things simultaneously. They somehow seem interconnected and makes sense, together, in a good way. I take it to mean that we need to hold on to our beliefs and be humble enough to seek/ accept help.

I won’t put out disclaimers saying who said what. Whoever said it knows it...so!

• Obsession is a form of an escape mechanism. Mostly to overcome some or the other deficiency. Some people use it as an alternate to their handicap (not quite literally), and make it a point to concentrate on that and not to divert their mind on to their short-comings and wallow. As long as there is passion, others things would seem minor and unimportant. It’s kind of like a Death Star, an unattainable object, a fascination that guides them through the life’s ups and downs and provides a direction, a goal. Whatever comes in the way of that is nothing but a mere obstacle which can be easily encountered.

• We will face no burden that He thinks we cannot bear. I would like to think so. No, on some level I believe so. I depend on Him and expect Him to take care of me. But I want to be able to really trust in God and let Him help me and guide me. When I’m burdened and if what is said is true about 'all burdens are bearable', all I ask of Him is to stay near me and give me the courage and strength to see it through.

• Our mind can protect us from extreme stress in a significant ways. Human mind has its own unique method of handling things and guarding us from hardships. It can heal hearts, conceive belief, it will do all it can to not let the suffering really break the man. If you are upset by anything more often than not the mind would point out to something that will act as a diversion. If only we consciously realize that we are being helped.

All I take from the above is the power of trusting. Be it in your own obsession and the single minded ferocity to make it happen and achieve something you desire. Be it the trust in the supreme God who can guide and provide light in the darkest hours. Be it the trust on your self, your personality, your mind, the years of diligence to tone it and tune it right, to make you believe that there is still hope left.

Do you think too that they are related and they mean the same thing in a different ways? Let me know too.

Aside:
Today I was: Wearing old printed black bottoms/pants, a faded dark blue kurta with dirty-cream duppatta, maroon sandals, black handbag, assorted single red and abother yellow glass bangles; the hair was held up by a multicolor gemstone clip and a white flower. I didn’t freak out. If this had happened few years back I would have died in shame. Frankly now I don’t care! Why?

All in a day's time.

Ah! The relief of no work! It’s a great thing to wake up to an empty to-do-list. You can snooze all you want. But you know, I’m warning you, it gets boring after a few days. When you had to work, the leisure felt rightfully earned and so was sweet. Now that you have uninterrupted free time it will make staying vetti a work.

And talking about it makes it so much better. Shut it.

So you have a million things to do. And you don’t have any inclination to start anytime soon. You haven’t even listed the things to buy, things to do, people to say goodbye to...You know what’s going to happen... Even with so much time in hand it’s still going to be a whirlwind at the moment of leaving. Is that what you want? Is that right?

Stop nagging.

You have been wanting a makeover, for so long, even I don’t remember. Have you decided on which to opt. Hair color? Tattoo? Hair style? You would want elegance and dignity and yet at the same time want to look appealing and nice. More than anything you definitely need to lose weight, get fit and wear trendy clothes. Your image speaks before you do. Smart dressing does the trick most of the time. But I guess at some level perhaps you don’t care.

Never mind!

You know the need to stay in touch is tough act. It’s the responsibility of all the parties. You know, they have the Internet, they are connected via mobile and yet I’m the one calling and mailing and I’m the one waiting for the response that’s yet to come. And sometimes you blame me for losing touch with your friends. How is that fair? How long can I sustain the interest solo? Needs to work both ways

Right.

I am missing a lot of people. I need to tell them that. Or should I? What if they don’t think so? I will let them know they are being remembered? Don’t you want to?

Yes.

If saying ‘I miss you’ is okay, then why is saying ‘I love you’ not? Yes. Yes, I know. It’s quite powerful. But isn’t that a reason enough to be vocal about it. I can say it to my father, brother, boyfriend but not a friend. Without sending wrong signals, without causing eyebrow rises! Even in this “well educated” and “modern and forward” society it is still considered taboo to use those words other than when it is meant in the sense of relationship. Why can’t it be used in the league of “please” and” sorry” and “thanks”? “Thanks for the support dear... it means a lot to me... I love you for that”. Why that is unnecessary and reacted to as some thing that need not be explicitly told? It’s not like I’m going to jump them!

......

I want to watch ‘Engeyum Kadhal’ or ‘Water for Elephants’ in theaters. Need some company... Will there be any takers?

I wish.

Is the baby alright? She is been silent for a long time now? Are you doing something wrong? Better call up Mother and confirm. Ask her to come here...

Oh, my God.

“Dil torna humari adhat nahi hai...” Nice line. Can be used as prompt for writing?

No mood.

I will tell you a secret. You work better while you are doing a repetitive task. Haven’t you noticed that it heightens your sense of concentration? I have come to realize that when the mind is supposedly occupied, the thoughts get organized and you kind of get a perspective. Don’t you see it as the reason why you feel that during exams and tense project moments you get lots of interesting things to think about? The thing with repetitive tasks is that after sometime it becomes monotonous and the mind tries to concentrate on something else. I personally find cleaning, doing pradhakshinams etc to be calming and relaxing. Isn't that what people claim about Yoga?

Enough!

I have heard, Food is the only thing that can be enjoyed and when offered more would elicit an ‘Enough’ response. I don't believe I can say enough to anything else. Maybe sadness, sleep etc... But the words I choose to express it may not be 'enough', per se

I’m going to divert myself.

Archer is a very nice read.

Internet, perhaps.

Sara Teasdale songs are really simple and straight forward. I know one other woman writer of her time who also had a letter-friend beau and also suffered from depression. Who?

Will TV work against you?

The level of tolerance has increased multifold. I attribute it to the spike in the amount of TV watching. Gruesome violence and sex are mainstream now. Subsconiscouly I don’t seem to even mind them. Now you know why what was deemed indecent has somehow become tolerable?

Music?

'O-Mama-maama Vippaamalaama' is a good song. Mrinalini is a wonderful name. It was in vogue sometime back...others I can recollect are crazes on Nivedhita,Aishwarya, Arya...

Sigh!

It’s too hot in the house, even in the evenings. But summer nights remind me of the lazy times in Agrahaaram. The warmth in the air, the dryness, the earth trying to cool down since the Sun had disappeared, the fragrance of new flowers, Ponds talc, Hamam soap, All India Radio, lying in the mithtam and staring at the stars, in the dim and barely burning gundu bulb light...

Wow.

Did I ever mention to you about the nights in the ‘Grim old place’ and the scandalous, forgotten secrets shared behind closed doors in whispered voices?

Was there.

If you are caught in-between what you want and what is wanted of you how to choose a side without offending the other?

Shut up.

Separation is a good thing

DONT. GO. THERE

***
Some people feel bad that their Thoughts deserted them. How did they ever manage to get rid of them? How glad would I be if mine ever did that?