Wednesday, February 28, 2007

In Style, truly Mine...



Style is a beautiful word. I discovered this after I got tagged by the one and only Hip Grandma.


She has asked me to write about ten things that define my style, and it is then that I discovered that in every person`s style there is an identity, there is a self realization and a craving for one`s inherent dreams.

So I look at my self and set out on an exercise in finding out the things, which I really feel define me a lot, or rather are in sync with my 'style'.

* The Black Umbrella - I usually feel very uncomfortable walking outside if my hands are empty, so I take care to take something in my hands, and most often it is my umbrella, and a black one at that.! My friends at times even tease me, that I am being a typical Malayali, but the truth is it defines me. I never open it, but the memories of my grandfather and the other old people at my native place walking majestically with a long black umbrella in their hands, it really gives me a rooted feeling.

* Old Photographs - Old, in the sense very old. Photographs are reminiscent of a time period, a happening. They have character and stand testimony to those golden ages. They can be sad, they can be happy or naughty, proud and damp, but they retain that one value. They are true and remain so and I love them, especially, the black and white ones.

* Rain - Yes!, just rain. A rainy day, looking outside the windows, watching those raindrops trickle down from the trees and rocks. I truly feel liberated on a rainy day. In essence I feel a rain is a gift from nature and there is an element of divinity in it. The nature of gifting and blessing, the urge to help and nurture.

* Food - Now wasn't that simple.? Yes I love food. I simply cannot bear to waste a single morsel. Eating, is something which defines me. I am not good at cooking, though. Maybe that's not part of my style.

* Travel - I am not much of a traveler, but whatever small journeys I go on, I try my best to make it a great experience. After all, Man will take some time to go beyond earth and conquer space. Until then we only have the earth to roam around.

* Lonely Mountain - The lonely mountain, with no mountains nearby. Looking majestic, yet solemn and sober. Looking down at the world around, with a kind of peace and sense of total satisfaction. I think that defines my style. I would like to be like that mountain, detached yet completely near, completely noticed from everywhere silently.

* Laughter - I love to have a good laugh. To laugh hard until my stomach hurts. It is a momentary state of bliss, which I truly love. I remember how once while in college, we used to break into a fit of laughter impromptu without reason enjoying it thoroughly. My laugh is a goofy kind of laughter. I get teased about it, and then I laugh again.


* The Hare and Tortoise Story - When I first learned this story as a child, someone asked me, what I would want to be. I said I want to be both. I like both of them. I like doing things fast like the hare and the innocence of the tortoise. I generally like tortoises anyway.. and to top it all I liked the story very much.

* Water - The great scientist Ramanujam described water as the elixir of life. He couldn't have described it better. I love water. To drink, bath and swim in this wonderful elixir of life. It`s ability to purify itself is something which truly inspires. Water defines me.

* Writing - Yes, finally writing is something which defines my style and personality. I may not be good at it, but still keep going on and on. I remember since my school days I have been writing poems and stories. Most of them are downright bad. In fact most of my earlier posts on this blog are rubbish. But still I like them, because writing is something close to my heart. It defines my style.

I am going to tag Lera, Vishesh, Sunil, Sreejith and Seema for this one. Come on!, Show us your style.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

A Saga of Disagreement

Two born enemies may reconcile with each other, and so can two bitter brothers, but not if there are foreign interests who need to keep the bitterness strong, to keep the fire of hatred and betrayal burning.

A nation is not made by boundaries, not made by languages, or religion for that matter. It is the people who make a nation. So when the common man of both Hindustan and Pakistan have no strong reasons of enmity with each other, then how come there is this disruption every time, we take a step forward as two nations, as two brothers hand in hand.

Who wreaked such havoc upon these people`s lives. ? The train is ironically named 'Samjhauta', meaning Agreement, but there is a sense of disagreement somewhere. Where does it lie? Surely not in the minds of the common man. Not in the minds of the leaders of the nations, going by the trouble they take to have peace talks at least. Then where..?

I truly found my voice in Sagarika Ghose`s post. She has written a brilliant piece about the bonding found on this wonderful train.

The last word of our journey thus belonged to Syed Yakoob, a tele-marketing operator:

"All those rich people who go to seminars and talks on India-Pakistan peace, why don't they actually travel by the Samjhauta Express to see what India-Pakistan peace is really about?"


Truly there is peace. There is bonding, there is love and brotherhood, but where the disagreement comes from is still beyond my understanding. It is still beyond the knowledge of the common man, who knows best to silently suffer, whenever he is grossly wronged. He fights and moves on with his life, wondering when this saga of disagreement started and when and how it will end.

Friday, February 02, 2007

My Sparrow Friend

Where are you, my little feathered friend?
My hands, full of your favourite grain
Fly down here, before my time will end
Fly to my balcony, before it does rain.


Twig by twig, where did you take away?
Is your cozy nest all ready and done?
On the guava tree, alight, perch and sway
Accept your share and we gladly run


So different, are the lives we lead
And yet the same, in more ways than one
With a smiling tweet, little stomachs you feed
In the small puddles, you bathe in the sun


In a rush, you suddenly come, flying down
And beckon with your hungry little beak
Amidst your meal, at my face you peep
And happily say, “Chirrup! Chirrup, Cheep! Cheep! ”