El O vee eee

That's better and one can't call this noble virtue which's part of Man's higher self, a four letter word ! Well have devoured some of Tagore's Gitanjali and others in search of its meaning though. Looking at the childhood album that dad and mom showed me proudly, talking about my birth, I got introduced to 'a feeling of belonging, a strong connection, a firm base to hold on to'. Then looking at my brother's cute chubby snap as a toddler made me feel proud that he belonged to me too ! Then cousins came along and there was 'a sense of togetherness/sharing secrets, we are all in it..ness'. It was scintillating, the hordes of stories we shared of our admirers and those whom we envied, the mental matches we made for ourselves whenever we met someone our age or beyond, all of course influenced mightily by reading regular doses of Mills and Boons. How gripping those moments would be ! The need of the age got a new colour everytime we read a new one. Then there was Linda Goodman's sun signs as an excuse to the behaviour we adopted. Each sun sign had its own romantic version. Having experienced Mills and Boons in real life, lived through the various shades of one's own idea of love. It doesn't stop there, does it ? Its like you are graduating in the various classes of the need to give and receive, hold or leave. Then there was this painful ousting of a new package from my own self who was a complete stranger to me when the nurse showed him, all wrapped up in white linen. She thought after the pain I had undergone for hours, the sight of him would be a panacea which was not the case. The thought that came to my mind was,'How big his lips are, definetely his dad's side genes and how tiny the eyes?' I didn't tell her though and smiled instead. There was a reason though for this initial detachment, the significant other, with the resposibility of running the family, hardly being present when this bundle was being prepared in vivo and conspicuously absent at the launch of the  joint venture, busy elsewhere in rolling out the first kilometers of optical fibre,  for strangers called Employers, unintentionally though. Then a cousin told that her infant smiled at her the first time after four months, when she was nursing. Had that in mind, and even though worked with the maternal instinct most of the time, with mom taking care of him and me both, connected with him really when he gave me a toothless three and a half month old baby smile when he was left wholly in my care after mom left. Nothing could match this love. Pure. Unconditional. To the extent that I was ready to do things for this tiny king which I wouldn't for anyone else including the real life hero I lived with.

To be continued...

Well back again.But it doesn't stop here either does it? The need to connect, to share etc. So then there were these women who like me wanted to reach out ! And there...what a great feeling it is to go unannounced to your friend who is very glad to feed you from the morning 'chai' till late dinner. Oh ! the world of talks ! I remember an uncle in the neighbourhood in Bhilai, when I went to meet his wife who was unwell, telling me 'Ab tum aa gayee ho beta, ye bilkul theek ho jaayengi, baat jo kar lengi tumse' (Now that you have come she has someone to talk to, she'll be perfectly fine). O.K. its dinner time. Wish I could be all alone somewhere in an island with the laptop ! To be continued.

El O vee eee

That's better and one can't call this noble virtue which's part of Man's higher self, a four letter word ! Well have devoured some of Tagore's Gitanjali and others in search of its meaning though. Looking at the childhood album that dad and mom showed me proudly, talking about my birth, I got introduced to 'a feeling of belonging, a strong connection, a firm base to hold on to'. Then looking at my brother's cute chubby snap as a toddler made me feel proud that he belonged to me too ! Then cousins came along and there was 'a sense of togetherness/sharing secrets, we are all in it..ness'. It was scintillating, the hordes of stories we shared of our admirers and those whom we envied, the mental matches we made for ourselves whenever we met someone our age or beyond, all of course influenced mightily by reading regular doses of Mills and Boons. How gripping those moments would be ! The need of the age got a new colour everytime we read a new one. Then there was Linda Goodman's sun signs as an excuse to the behaviour we adopted. Each sun sign had its own romantic version. Having experienced Mills and Boons in real life, lived through the various shades of one's own idea of love. It doesn't stop there, does it ? Its like you are graduating in the various classes of the need to give and receive, hold or leave. Then there was this painful ousting of a new package from my own self who was a complete stranger to me when the nurse showed him, all wrapped up in white linen. She thought after the pain I had undergone for hours, the sight of him would be a panacea which was not the case. The thought that came to my mind was,'How big his lips are, definetely his dad's side genes and how tiny the eyes?' I didn't tell her though and smiled instead. There was a reason though for this initial detachment, the significant other, with the resposibility of running the family, hardly being present when this bundle was being prepared in vivo and conspicuously absent at the launch of the  joint venture, busy elsewhere in rolling out the first kilometers of optical fibre,  for strangers called Employers, unintentionally though. Then a cousin told that her infant smiled at her the first time after four months, when she was nursing. Had that in mind, and even though worked with the maternal instinct most of the time, with mom taking care of him and me both, connected with him really when he gave me a toothless three and a half month old baby smile when he was left wholly in my care after mom left. Nothing could match this love. Pure. Unconditional. To the extent that I was ready to do things for this tiny king which I wouldn't for anyone else including the real life hero I lived with.

To be continued...

Well back again.But it doesn't stop here either does it? The need to connect, to share etc. So then there were these women who like me wanted to reach out ! And there...what a great feeling it is to go unannounced to your friend who is very glad to feed you from the morning 'chai' till late dinner. Oh ! the world of talks ! I remember an uncle in the neighbourhood in Bhilai, when I went to meet his wife who was unwell, telling me 'Ab tum aa gayee ho beta, ye bilkul theek ho jaayengi, baat jo kar lengi tumse' (Now that you have come she has someone to talk to, she'll be perfectly fine). O.K. its dinner time. Wish I could be all alone somewhere in an island with the laptop ! To be continued.

What do I write ?

Well there are times when so many things criss cross the mind clearly and you wish there was someway to transfer them on the screen and save. Gone is the impulse to take a paper and write down and feel heavenly. About the bus conductor (fair/young and a look that doesn't suit his job, c'd be doing Marathi plays instead) who for god knows what reason, gives a welcome smile everytime I board at any point of the route the bus plys, and which amuses me. Or the discussions centred around Marathi as a language which makes even the introvert in the class open his mouth, of those child like expressions on adult student's faces when some part of them deep down in their psyches has been touched and its as if you have opened a door for them to step out into a new fascinating world. Of the cool fresh morning air that defies the Red hot ball sticking out there in the eastern sky, of the woman who walked into my class before joining, to observe how I go about 'training people in spoken English'. She turned out to be a post doctorate-ex radio jockey (hindi) and we gelled in an instant, the next one and a half month being spent like two inseperable high school girls ! Talk of life really kicking in your late thirties ! Then there is this moment in the early morning Tea session I have with myself (having gotten over the shock many years back, of not having the ex-friend/now husband to share the morning sip, which's like a ritual in my maternal home) and the black and white letters on the pages I read from a book every day. The book talked about people who have left dear Earth but who you could connect to if you wanted to. And there, memories of my granny telling me stories of Goldilocks and the three bears, Cindrella, Seven dwarfs, these three being my all time favourites flooded my mind and I wondered if she could be looking down at me right now as I missed her. She was one person during my childhood days who fed me what I wanted, was very loving and caring and thought the world for me during the many times Mom left me in her care, taking my little brother along, which made me very jealous of the brat and I almost thought that mum didn't want me. She would wait with snacks and a cup of tea daily, when I returned from work in Bangalore. Later when I got married, I even got a letter from her saying that she missed me a lot in the evenings. How lonely old age can be ? Well got to go once again to cater to domestic demands !

What do I write ?

Well there are times when so many things criss cross the mind clearly and you wish there was someway to transfer them on the screen and save. Gone is the impulse to take a paper and write down and feel heavenly. About the bus conductor (fair/young and a look that doesn't suit his job, c'd be doing Marathi plays instead) who for god knows what reason, gives a welcome smile everytime I board at any point of the route the bus plys, and which amuses me. Or the discussions centred around Marathi as a language which makes even the introvert in the class open his mouth, of those child like expressions on adult student's faces when some part of them deep down in their psyches has been touched and its as if you have opened a door for them to step out into a new fascinating world. Of the cool fresh morning air that defies the Red hot ball sticking out there in the eastern sky, of the woman who walked into my class before joining, to observe how I go about 'training people in spoken English'. She turned out to be a post doctorate-ex radio jockey (hindi) and we gelled in an instant, the next one and a half month being spent like two inseperable high school girls ! Talk of life really kicking in your late thirties ! Then there is this moment in the early morning Tea session I have with myself (having gotten over the shock many years back, of not having the ex-friend/now husband to share the morning sip, which's like a ritual in my maternal home) and the black and white letters on the pages I read from a book every day. The book talked about people who have left dear Earth but who you could connect to if you wanted to. And there, memories of my granny telling me stories of Goldilocks and the three bears, Cindrella, Seven dwarfs, these three being my all time favourites flooded my mind and I wondered if she could be looking down at me right now as I missed her. She was one person during my childhood days who fed me what I wanted, was very loving and caring and thought the world for me during the many times Mom left me in her care, taking my little brother along, which made me very jealous of the brat and I almost thought that mum didn't want me. She would wait with snacks and a cup of tea daily, when I returned from work in Bangalore. Later when I got married, I even got a letter from her saying that she missed me a lot in the evenings. How lonely old age can be ? Well got to go once again to cater to domestic demands !

Patch Adams

The movie, a real life story about Hunter 'Patch' Adams (the founder of Gesundheit Clinic in West Virginia that treats patients by humour and pathos) from the beginning  had me, a morning person, glued to the screen at an unearthly hour of 12 am, thanks to the husband who is a 'night owl'. Not able to decide whether to sleep or watch, there was something magnetic about the events being unfurled on the screen that made me sit down and get into the 'deep flick watching mode' wherein the person in me disappears into some or the other character acting out there, depending on who I relate to at the moment'. The Einstein look alike character in the psychiatric ward, 'Arthur Mendelson's question: How many fingers do you see?' amused and got me thinking at the same time about the way a genius' mind works. The sentences Arthur utters when Patch answers 'eight' and the look on his face when he asks ' What do you see in me Arthur?' moved me. A super duper scientist,  a mathematician or those blessed with 'High IQ', those of the genius kinds: deep down somewhere, all they want is compassion, a helping human gesture which Patch shows by mending Arthur's leaking tea cup while he works his equations. Now I have come across a few who scoff at that, hiding behind the idea of being 'practical/logical'. Have always wondered, what makes man not show his emotional side ?

  "You treat a disease, you win, you loose. You treat a person, I guarantee you, you will win, no matter the outcome." says Robin Williams enacting Patch Adams in the movie. No words more powerful than this could mirror what has always been on my mind since my school days. In fact Granny's words rang in my ears 'Veena I think you can become a doctor' and the long forgotten desire to be a doctor albeit created by grandma resurfaced. The desire to live Patch's words got stronger. I wondered at the influence a cinema can have on human mind ! 

Patch Adams

The movie, a real life story about Hunter 'Patch' Adams (the founder of Gesundheit Clinic in West Virginia that treats patients by humour and pathos) from the beginning  had me, a morning person, glued to the screen at an unearthly hour of 12 am, thanks to the husband who is a 'night owl'. Not able to decide whether to sleep or watch, there was something magnetic about the events being unfurled on the screen that made me sit down and get into the 'deep flick watching mode' wherein the person in me disappears into some or the other character acting out there, depending on who I relate to at the moment'. The Einstein look alike character in the psychiatric ward, 'Arthur Mendelson's question: How many fingers do you see?' amused and got me thinking at the same time about the way a genius' mind works. The sentences Arthur utters when Patch answers 'eight' and the look on his face when he asks ' What do you see in me Arthur?' moved me. A super duper scientist,  a mathematician or those blessed with 'High IQ', those of the genius kinds: deep down somewhere, all they want is compassion, a helping human gesture which Patch shows by mending Arthur's leaking tea cup while he works his equations. Now I have come across a few who scoff at that, hiding behind the idea of being 'practical/logical'. Have always wondered, what makes man not show his emotional side ?

  "You treat a disease, you win, you loose. You treat a person, I guarantee you, you will win, no matter the outcome." says Robin Williams enacting Patch Adams in the movie. No words more powerful than this could mirror what has always been on my mind since my school days. In fact Granny's words rang in my ears 'Veena I think you can become a doctor' and the long forgotten desire to be a doctor albeit created by grandma resurfaced. The desire to live Patch's words got stronger. I wondered at the influence a cinema can have on human mind ! 

For you Anagha

Brother's daughter : That's how you are related to me sweetheart. Well, One and a quarter year old, you stepped into my home last week, still clinging to your 'amma', yet taking in all that was there in the living room with your tiny naughty eyes. I was introduced to you promptly by your parents as 'aththe' and my was I proud to be referred to that word for the first time in my life? So I took you in my arms and surprisingly, you didn't wail. There: a bond was established, still the little person in you was scrutinizing me, wondering who this lady must be ! Well I told you that I was your 'aththe', making sure that it registered properly in your mind and would continue to do so during the next few days that you stayed in. You don't gel with soft toys much, I found out but instantly took to your Akash 'anna'. You would give him 'tight' (your parent's baby word for a hug), but me ? you wouldn't, however I tried luring you with 'raisins' and 'biscuits' which you liked a lot. Sitting on the bed, licking the cream of the biscuit and occasionally wiping your tiny hands on the bedspread, playing with my cell with greasy hands... Somehow I didn't feel like stopping you. One fine day you and I had a good time when I got to feed you, while your mom was busy elsewhere. You liked my cell and would say 'on' and switch the walkman on. Your impromptu dance on 'left leg aagey aagey...from rab ne banaa de jodi' was a delight to watch. You getting angry reminded me of my granny and your great grandmother. We try to trace something of our lineage in every newborn that arrives in the family. Why ? Roots. Man can't do without it. No wonder I find something binding you and me, the genetic way that is.

For you Anagha

Brother's daughter : That's how you are related to me sweetheart. Well, One and a quarter year old, you stepped into my home last week, still clinging to your 'amma', yet taking in all that was there in the living room with your tiny naughty eyes. I was introduced to you promptly by your parents as 'aththe' and my was I proud to be referred to that word for the first time in my life? So I took you in my arms and surprisingly, you didn't wail. There: a bond was established, still the little person in you was scrutinizing me, wondering who this lady must be ! Well I told you that I was your 'aththe', making sure that it registered properly in your mind and would continue to do so during the next few days that you stayed in. You don't gel with soft toys much, I found out but instantly took to your Akash 'anna'. You would give him 'tight' (your parent's baby word for a hug), but me ? you wouldn't, however I tried luring you with 'raisins' and 'biscuits' which you liked a lot. Sitting on the bed, licking the cream of the biscuit and occasionally wiping your tiny hands on the bedspread, playing with my cell with greasy hands... Somehow I didn't feel like stopping you. One fine day you and I had a good time when I got to feed you, while your mom was busy elsewhere. You liked my cell and would say 'on' and switch the walkman on. Your impromptu dance on 'left leg aagey aagey...from rab ne banaa de jodi' was a delight to watch. You getting angry reminded me of my granny and your great grandmother. We try to trace something of our lineage in every newborn that arrives in the family. Why ? Roots. Man can't do without it. No wonder I find something binding you and me, the genetic way that is.

The Blossom

There was this seed which someone planted in a garden. Now the garden said,'This's your home now and you are welcome ! ' The soil said,'I'll nourish you, bathe you, provide you all comforts and hold you strong.' The seed was happy that it was being pampered. The tiny insects moving about the seed in the soil were its friends. But its favorite friend was the Earthworm. Days passed with the seed getting fed thoroughly but still it said to itself,'Something is missing. I am content, I am happy, but I want something more. I want to be Euphoric about something, say for all the time. How can that be possible ? I have got all the love and care that I need. I want to be something, do something with the kind of foundation I have with me.' So it burst open to a whole new world of razzle and dazzle of the Sun. The seed loved this and saw itself transformed into an attractive pair of breathtaking green leaves and a slender light green stem. It happily took all the brightness in and said,'I need to do some more with what I have got, this new found freedom above'. So it moved its leaves as if in a rhythm which later turned out to be a dance, tuned to the melody of the bird's music. Oh ! was it ecstatic? You bet it was ! But the soil was not very happy with this change. It had covered the seed, protected it, fed it and suddenly it didn't belong to it anymore. At least that's what the soil thought. Slowly the dusk set in. The shoot wondered,' What's wrong? Where's the glitter vanishing?' And then it was night. The spirit sank but the freshness in the young plant wouldn't budge. It said,'I'll stand tall till this darkness passes, I'll rise further up where no one can stop me from blossoming'. But there was night after every day which the seedling couldn't avoid. It wanted to bend the rules though and thought 'What if there was no night at all?' It would be such a lot of fun. But it had learnt few lessons in life. The soil still held it tight whether it was brightness or dark. The plantlet said to itself,' A day will come when there will be no darkness, the glitter all the time for me to dance till I drop. I'll however, wait for the day'. The soil meanwhile grumbled and told the budding plant that it felt unloved and deserted. The plant told the soil,' How can I ever live without you? I have to have you throughout my life and its you who I need to blossom ! I need your nourishment, the same love and care that you started with. Its with that I'll bloom. The soil wasn't convinced. It thought the seedling had the sun's brightness, the bird's songs, the cool breeze...all new found friends and so it didn't bother about the soil at all. The soil blamed itself that may be all these days it hadn't given the seed enough, the reason why it decided to shoot up instead of being in its cosy dwelling.
Could someone tell the soil that its position in the blossoming plantlet's life was something special ? That the seedling cannot be stopped from growing and branching out. To bear the flower and the fruit, to CREATE, it needs all that the soil can give. And if the soil felt dejected and refused, it would cause the young plant to wither. The seedling can't live without opening and spreading out into the sunshine !

The Blossom

There was this seed which someone planted in a garden. Now the garden said,'This's your home now and you are welcome ! ' The soil said,'I'll nourish you, bathe you, provide you all comforts and hold you strong.' The seed was happy that it was being pampered. The tiny insects moving about the seed in the soil were its friends. But its favorite friend was the Earthworm. Days passed with the seed getting fed thoroughly but still it said to itself,'Something is missing. I am content, I am happy, but I want something more. I want to be Euphoric about something, say for all the time. How can that be possible ? I have got all the love and care that I need. I want to be something, do something with the kind of foundation I have with me.' So it burst open to a whole new world of razzle and dazzle of the Sun. The seed loved this and saw itself transformed into an attractive pair of breathtaking green leaves and a slender light green stem. It happily took all the brightness in and said,'I need to do some more with what I have got, this new found freedom above'. So it moved its leaves as if in a rhythm which later turned out to be a dance, tuned to the melody of the bird's music. Oh ! was it ecstatic? You bet it was ! But the soil was not very happy with this change. It had covered the seed, protected it, fed it and suddenly it didn't belong to it anymore. At least that's what the soil thought. Slowly the dusk set in. The shoot wondered,' What's wrong? Where's the glitter vanishing?' And then it was night. The spirit sank but the freshness in the young plant wouldn't budge. It said,'I'll stand tall till this darkness passes, I'll rise further up where no one can stop me from blossoming'. But there was night after every day which the seedling couldn't avoid. It wanted to bend the rules though and thought 'What if there was no night at all?' It would be such a lot of fun. But it had learnt few lessons in life. The soil still held it tight whether it was brightness or dark. The plantlet said to itself,' A day will come when there will be no darkness, the glitter all the time for me to dance till I drop. I'll however, wait for the day'. The soil meanwhile grumbled and told the budding plant that it felt unloved and deserted. The plant told the soil,' How can I ever live without you? I have to have you throughout my life and its you who I need to blossom ! I need your nourishment, the same love and care that you started with. Its with that I'll bloom. The soil wasn't convinced. It thought the seedling had the sun's brightness, the bird's songs, the cool breeze...all new found friends and so it didn't bother about the soil at all. The soil blamed itself that may be all these days it hadn't given the seed enough, the reason why it decided to shoot up instead of being in its cosy dwelling.
Could someone tell the soil that its position in the blossoming plantlet's life was something special ? That the seedling cannot be stopped from growing and branching out. To bear the flower and the fruit, to CREATE, it needs all that the soil can give. And if the soil felt dejected and refused, it would cause the young plant to wither. The seedling can't live without opening and spreading out into the sunshine !

A Tribute to you Mom on Women's Day

The most beautiful woman in my life, my Mother...I haven't clicked your photo on my cell, to upload in my blog, but you are there whenever I need you ! I draw strength from the way you led your life with Appa, Vine, me...and also how you dealt your in-laws and 'maher' (that's marathi word for maternal relations). I have only a fair idea about your life before I was born, which I know, also holds a good deal to teach me Life skills/lessons. You made my schooling years very memorable. As a child I remember being so naive as to think there was only one person in the whole world called 'Mom' and that was you ! In fact when I heard other kids calling 'mom', I used to wonder who these women were ? Always wanting to see me excel in studies, you taught me all subjects which I imbibed like a sponge. You always said that I was sincere enough to listen to your instructions while teaching and so I excelled. Standing 'I st' in the class was a rule for me (that's what you wanted) and anything less would upset me very much. So 'rank conscious' I was that I wouldn't befriend anyone who was not a 1st or 2nd ranker which I understood later was not a 'sane idea'. Being a Homescience graduate and having a good command over English in those days, you wanted to have a job, a very ambitious person that you were. But your dad didn't let you work and appa followed suit. Mom, thank you for giving your whole life in bringing up Vine and me. Your world revolved around the three of us. Oops ! your 'blind love' and dedication to Appa, I can't match. Lucky guy, Appa to have such a fan for life ! Well you were always the perfectionist during my growing years and quite judgemental too, a reason why I could never click with you in the kitchen or while learning to speak 'kannada' or the 'Carnatic Music'. However 'the not agreeing' rebel inside me loves you despite the differences. You and me : We are poles apart but bond strongly ! You tried to pass on your "Children/husband is my life" philosophy to me whom you had taught to become 'self-dependent, stand on you own, have a niche etc...' A part of you wants to see me on top of the world and another, to see me as your reflection. But that's all past. Now after all these years, I am seeing a different 'you'. You have mellowed and your scales of perfection have been compromised too. You are taking care of your spinster aunt in her 90's because she did a lot for you when you were growing up. You are my role model Mom and I see myself doing many of the things which you did and I scoffed at. Your tenacity and the spirit to serve people, in your 60 + years is amazing. You are comfortable with a steady flow of people in your house though sometimes you ring me up and tell that you want to be alone for a while ! I just listen to you, a trait at least which you have always counted upon, from the day when I verbally supported you in a family issue. I was tired of seeing you fighting all alone. And with me by your side, no one could utter a word about you. I shall continue to be the pillar of strength for you to lean upon, in your twilight years Mom. Here's once again a wishing you 'A Happy Woman's Day'.

P.S. The lady with purse, sitting on extreme left in the photo is Usha Aatya, (the greatest networker in the family that I know of till now), celebrating 'Women's Day' with her schoolmates. The second photograph, you need not guess !

A Tribute to you Mom on Women's Day

The most beautiful woman in my life, my Mother...I haven't clicked your photo on my cell, to upload in my blog, but you are there whenever I need you ! I draw strength from the way you led your life with Appa, Vine, me...and also how you dealt your in-laws and 'maher' (that's marathi word for maternal relations). I have only a fair idea about your life before I was born, which I know, also holds a good deal to teach me Life skills/lessons. You made my schooling years very memorable. As a child I remember being so naive as to think there was only one person in the whole world called 'Mom' and that was you ! In fact when I heard other kids calling 'mom', I used to wonder who these women were ? Always wanting to see me excel in studies, you taught me all subjects which I imbibed like a sponge. You always said that I was sincere enough to listen to your instructions while teaching and so I excelled. Standing 'I st' in the class was a rule for me (that's what you wanted) and anything less would upset me very much. So 'rank conscious' I was that I wouldn't befriend anyone who was not a 1st or 2nd ranker which I understood later was not a 'sane idea'. Being a Homescience graduate and having a good command over English in those days, you wanted to have a job, a very ambitious person that you were. But your dad didn't let you work and appa followed suit. Mom, thank you for giving your whole life in bringing up Vine and me. Your world revolved around the three of us. Oops ! your 'blind love' and dedication to Appa, I can't match. Lucky guy, Appa to have such a fan for life ! Well you were always the perfectionist during my growing years and quite judgemental too, a reason why I could never click with you in the kitchen or while learning to speak 'kannada' or the 'Carnatic Music'. However 'the not agreeing' rebel inside me loves you despite the differences. You and me : We are poles apart but bond strongly ! You tried to pass on your "Children/husband is my life" philosophy to me whom you had taught to become 'self-dependent, stand on you own, have a niche etc...' A part of you wants to see me on top of the world and another, to see me as your reflection. But that's all past. Now after all these years, I am seeing a different 'you'. You have mellowed and your scales of perfection have been compromised too. You are taking care of your spinster aunt in her 90's because she did a lot for you when you were growing up. You are my role model Mom and I see myself doing many of the things which you did and I scoffed at. Your tenacity and the spirit to serve people, in your 60 + years is amazing. You are comfortable with a steady flow of people in your house though sometimes you ring me up and tell that you want to be alone for a while ! I just listen to you, a trait at least which you have always counted upon, from the day when I verbally supported you in a family issue. I was tired of seeing you fighting all alone. And with me by your side, no one could utter a word about you. I shall continue to be the pillar of strength for you to lean upon, in your twilight years Mom. Here's once again a wishing you 'A Happy Woman's Day'.

P.S. The lady with purse, sitting on extreme left in the photo is Usha Aatya, (the greatest networker in the family that I know of till now), celebrating 'Women's Day' with her schoolmates. The second photograph, you need not guess !

An evening at Paud Rd, Kothrud

Well, it was around 8 pm or so and I had an hour to kill. Thought of buying a birthday card for my FIL and right in front of me was Archies. Passing time at the card gallery was a hobby when I was in college. Its the same now except that its not frequent as it used to be. None of the cards satisfy but finally buy one that has what I want to say. The AC inside coupled with music made me take one more round of the card gallery though it lacked variety. Coming out I strolled outside for sometime, taking in the night breeze and watching people in action. Some trying to cross the road amidst the mad rush of vehicles, some entering shops and others coming out, the guards at certain shops and ATMs keeping a watch...Bought some chocolates and on an instinct entered a store that displayed Formal shirts. Bought a shirt for the birthday 'dad'. Now was the time for 'Tea break' and I looked around for some 'respectable' tea joints where I could take a sip at this hour. Finding none, decided to take a look at what 'krushnai' sold. Coffee 'espresso coffee'. said the menu card. Ordered one and sat on the chair in open air. There was little chance to gaze at the stars or the moon amidst the glitter of display boards, traffic lights etc. Men in different attires caught my attention. Some in shorts, others in casuals strolled by aimlessly. Some came out in their 'house apparels' to take a bite at the various snack stalls on the road. Then there were the 'Capgemini', 'Persistent'...software professionals in their uniforms, crisp formal attires, getting down from their respective buses with I cards dangling around their necks. The I cards somehow make me uncomfortable giving a feeling of 'office bound', however imressive their designs or the wearer might be. And for once, I am happy at my ' waiting for coffee, enjoying open air status'. The geeks however have a hurried look on their faces as they head towards their homes. Guys in cargos and jeans lean against their bikes, eyeing the few eves that dot the street. Then there are some dads waiting with their offsprings while their better halves buy vegetables etc. Very few women in the picture. My coffee arrives which I sip till I spot the car and hubby. Time to go, even as a voice inside whispers 'hey ! hang around or walk on the pavement with hands stuck in pockets, listening to the FM or walkman, with strides that take you nowhere...'. 'Late hours...its a Man's world, time to go home baby, sighs another voice'. inside'.

An evening at Paud Rd, Kothrud

Well, it was around 8 pm or so and I had an hour to kill. Thought of buying a birthday card for my FIL and right in front of me was Archies. Passing time at the card gallery was a hobby when I was in college. Its the same now except that its not frequent as it used to be. None of the cards satisfy but finally buy one that has what I want to say. The AC inside coupled with music made me take one more round of the card gallery though it lacked variety. Coming out I strolled outside for sometime, taking in the night breeze and watching people in action. Some trying to cross the road amidst the mad rush of vehicles, some entering shops and others coming out, the guards at certain shops and ATMs keeping a watch...Bought some chocolates and on an instinct entered a store that displayed Formal shirts. Bought a shirt for the birthday 'dad'. Now was the time for 'Tea break' and I looked around for some 'respectable' tea joints where I could take a sip at this hour. Finding none, decided to take a look at what 'krushnai' sold. Coffee 'espresso coffee'. said the menu card. Ordered one and sat on the chair in open air. There was little chance to gaze at the stars or the moon amidst the glitter of display boards, traffic lights etc. Men in different attires caught my attention. Some in shorts, others in casuals strolled by aimlessly. Some came out in their 'house apparels' to take a bite at the various snack stalls on the road. Then there were the 'Capgemini', 'Persistent'...software professionals in their uniforms, crisp formal attires, getting down from their respective buses with I cards dangling around their necks. The I cards somehow make me uncomfortable giving a feeling of 'office bound', however imressive their designs or the wearer might be. And for once, I am happy at my ' waiting for coffee, enjoying open air status'. The geeks however have a hurried look on their faces as they head towards their homes. Guys in cargos and jeans lean against their bikes, eyeing the few eves that dot the street. Then there are some dads waiting with their offsprings while their better halves buy vegetables etc. Very few women in the picture. My coffee arrives which I sip till I spot the car and hubby. Time to go, even as a voice inside whispers 'hey ! hang around or walk on the pavement with hands stuck in pockets, listening to the FM or walkman, with strides that take you nowhere...'. 'Late hours...its a Man's world, time to go home baby, sighs another voice'. inside'.

Solitude

I long for thee...
Everyday I am amidst people who mean to me and who need me too
but I need to meet you at least once every day.
Some days I have interesting moments with friends and the day ends beautifully too.
But with you its different. Early morning, when no one gets up
or late at night when everybody sleep, its you who I meet.
To watch from the window, highway lights that twinkle
Between me and the glitter..
the silence of the night...
the silhoutte of the tall firs
Oh ! I almost hear a whisper...
The eyes can't help wanting more...
more of the darkness...
how much more dark a night can be ?
I wonder...
though its the morning that rejuvenates me...
the night mesmerizes
with its unusual quietness..
I am o.k. with it till I am called to sleep.
The morning's glory...
its entirely different...
the colors enchanting...
a riot of bewitching blue, orange...
I am not alone in celebrating the dawn...
My winged friends join me...
and Nature starts putting up a show..
which enthralls my being..
Its lovely...the stillness outside,
that matches the aloneness within...
feeds the life in me...
to take on another day...
I am ready !

Solitude

I long for thee...
Everyday I am amidst people who mean to me and who need me too
but I need to meet you at least once every day.
Some days I have interesting moments with friends and the day ends beautifully too.
But with you its different. Early morning, when no one gets up
or late at night when everybody sleep, its you who I meet.
To watch from the window, highway lights that twinkle
Between me and the glitter..
the silence of the night...
the silhoutte of the tall firs
Oh ! I almost hear a whisper...
The eyes can't help wanting more...
more of the darkness...
how much more dark a night can be ?
I wonder...
though its the morning that rejuvenates me...
the night mesmerizes
with its unusual quietness..
I am o.k. with it till I am called to sleep.
The morning's glory...
its entirely different...
the colors enchanting...
a riot of bewitching blue, orange...
I am not alone in celebrating the dawn...
My winged friends join me...
and Nature starts putting up a show..
which enthralls my being..
Its lovely...the stillness outside,
that matches the aloneness within...
feeds the life in me...
to take on another day...
I am ready !

To you guys of PC College of Engg. Akurdi

At first, the Computers and the Mechanical batch interested me but now I am beginning to enjoy the I.T. batch too. The expression writ on your faces vary from curiosity, amusement, intrigue to the usual 'checking out' attitude of a typical student. As for me, the Trainer (or a teacher called by various modern nomenclatures...facilitator, coach etc), I have this challenge of creating ample interest in you before I start my presentation. I hate to teach (that must be evident to you now) but have always believed in being the guide you need so that you carve your own path, create a niche. Being the friend who understands but being firm when situation demands has been my motto and I have always got wonderful results...when some of you, after the class is over, come to me for advice. I am always bowled out by your honest confessions. You want to be treated as young adults I know, i.e. with respect and you long for love too, both of which you deserve.
Yesterday when I wanted to teach 'Presentation Skills' and asked you to 'Present' instead, you came out wonderfully.

Tu dhoop hai, cham sey bikhar
Tu hai nadi, o bekhabar
Ud chal kaheen, beh chal kaheen
dil khush jahaan,
teri tho manzil hai waheen

Above lines from Aamir Khan's 'Tare zameen par' ..I want to dedicate to you. Well, skills you have, all you need is polishing and a willingness to learn, which I see in you and am happy about it too. Except for one or two of you who want to project your mind because you have so much to tell and very few an audience ! You need to know you have to be 'the audience' first before someone listens to you. Well today its you the I.T. people. See you at the college !

To you guys of PC College of Engg. Akurdi

At first, the Computers and the Mechanical batch interested me but now I am beginning to enjoy the I.T. batch too. The expression writ on your faces vary from curiosity, amusement, intrigue to the usual 'checking out' attitude of a typical student. As for me, the Trainer (or a teacher called by various modern nomenclatures...facilitator, coach etc), I have this challenge of creating ample interest in you before I start my presentation. I hate to teach (that must be evident to you now) but have always believed in being the guide you need so that you carve your own path, create a niche. Being the friend who understands but being firm when situation demands has been my motto and I have always got wonderful results...when some of you, after the class is over, come to me for advice. I am always bowled out by your honest confessions. You want to be treated as young adults I know, i.e. with respect and you long for love too, both of which you deserve.
Yesterday when I wanted to teach 'Presentation Skills' and asked you to 'Present' instead, you came out wonderfully.

Tu dhoop hai, cham sey bikhar
Tu hai nadi, o bekhabar
Ud chal kaheen, beh chal kaheen
dil khush jahaan,
teri tho manzil hai waheen

Above lines from Aamir Khan's 'Tare zameen par' ..I want to dedicate to you. Well, skills you have, all you need is polishing and a willingness to learn, which I see in you and am happy about it too. Except for one or two of you who want to project your mind because you have so much to tell and very few an audience ! You need to know you have to be 'the audience' first before someone listens to you. Well today its you the I.T. people. See you at the college !

Auguries of Innocence

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour,
We are led to believe a lie
When we see with, not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night, to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.

This poem by William Blake touches me as I read it while I have my morning 'chai'

Something beckons me...
somewhere far away...
at times by my very side...
What is it that eludes ?
I think with a sigh..
Once again in a pool of ifs and buts
Life... your hues are mesmerising !
Well I start my day anyway
the search goes on...
I have my bags ready...I move on

Auguries of Innocence

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour,
We are led to believe a lie
When we see with, not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night, to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.

This poem by William Blake touches me as I read it while I have my morning 'chai'

Something beckons me...
somewhere far away...
at times by my very side...
What is it that eludes ?
I think with a sigh..
Once again in a pool of ifs and buts
Life... your hues are mesmerising !
Well I start my day anyway
the search goes on...
I have my bags ready...I move on