I hear you

This is an attempt at poetry after a gap of nearly 17 years.

_________

I hear the noise around me
The rage, the anger, and the hate
All of it for something they fail to see
and not merely for an act they deem 'not-great'

I hear the noise around me
Of why my views are child-like and naive
It's my life's, so why can't you let it be?
Oh! I get it; you look but are scared to believe

I hear the noise around me
Screams in various tongues
In dialects of many across the sea
But whose tones seem to burn a fire in other lungs

I hear the noise around me
Cheers for change and abuses for the same
The voices turn to bruised many a bruised knee
For every call by every other is termed lame

I hear the noise around me
How everything far away is better
Where money can fetch you cars, fancy tea
Spare time; yet no response to a mother's letter

I hear the noise around me
In homes where wealth matters
Where household chores are bound by a fee
Even if it means leaving it in shatters

I hear the noise around me
You have problems, and so do you
A request, look in the mirror and see
Your world reflects what you do

I hear the noise around me
And I am tired
It's never about what's done by he or she
For you refuse to adapt even after being fired

I hear the noise around me
Seriously, you should try it
It is indeed key
If you wish life to gift you any benefit

I hear the noise around me
This my choice
I choose to watch the fun, oh gee!
That's how I know when to voice

I hear the noise around me
Please don't be mad
I don't always agree
Now, is that bad?

I hear the noise around me
and am thoroughly amused
Yes some thoughts can sting like a bee
Does it mean their views should be refused?

I hear the noise around me
Don't you? It's strange, nothing to be proud
Well, if only one knew when to give a hoot or three
Would one know whether it was worth being loud

I hear the noise around me
Here's what I feel
Be a sponge; absorb, squeeze and be
Life does not gift you the perfection seal

I hear the noise around me
I honestly do
But stop being the clueless squirrel on the tree
This chatter is not worth your time or you

Let bygones, be bygones
Live and let live

A child called Ammu

1990. The year my parents witnessed the entry of a little girl. 

As my mother geared up to take care of baby number 2, a girl with long locks (that were a fine blend of blond, grey and white) prepared herself for another edition of child-like fun. 

Four years hence, this girl and the little baby enjoyed long hours of pretend-tennis games, teacher-teacher, pilot, sugiyan and paysam making sessions, and of course Malayalam and Sanskrit sloka lessons. Amazingly, the big girl had more energy and zeal than any of her daughters could fathom. While she enjoyed playing simple games with the young ladies of the house, with the boys it was about Tennis or even enacting a scene or two from the Krishna leela. 

Wondering who this superhuman is? She was Ammu, my maternal grandmother.

It has been a year since her demise. Despite witnessing her soul bidding adieu, I still believe that she is sitting before a television set or in a room somewhere reading her books on spirituality and munching on her spoon of chawanpraash. Each time I open her wardrobe, the essence of her bhasmam (the sacred ash), and chandanam (sandalwood paste), take me back to those moments of endless laughs and pleasant memories. The thoughts of her soft cotton mundu, her soft hands and 'basketball' tummy (as I would describe it) still calm me down after a rough day. 

Was she pretty? I would tease her by singing, “Jawaani Deewani khoobsurat hamari naani”. My friends deemed her very pretty but to me, I adored her bunny teeth and her funny voices :). Interestingly, her personality had inspired to me to write a poem called 'My Granny'. The poem even went on to being in the school's magazine and was awarded a consolation prize in a national level competition!

Her laugh was a loud chuckle of air and still brings a smile on my face. No matter how pathetic the joke may be, she knew how to make it worth all the effort. 

She was a cook beyond praise. Everything was delicious except her sujee ka halwa (she had admitted too!). But Pazhaprathaman (aka Banana kheer) and Butterscotch ice-cream were truly her best friends. A dose of these desserts would make her happier than the child on Christmas. Tea-time was Araroot biscuit time. Boy! Did those things make her eyes twinkle!

To her daughters, she was their inspiration and their rock. Ammu kept the family together and she vowed to pass the trait on to her grandchildren too. She, indeed, was a child in every sense. Innocent yet stubborn, naughty yet firm, fun yet emotional but all in all, the professional grandmother. The love in her heart knew no boundaries. A fantastic host, she never hesitated to entertain a guest, even when she did not know them well. 

Ammu, in my case, was a friend, teacher, guardian and the link to my roots. Of all her grandchildren, only I had the pleasure of learning Malayalam (my native language) under her tutelage. She not only taught me how to speak fundamental Malayalam but also how to read and write my mother-tongue. Every achievement of mine was lauded by her. No matter how insignificant my awards may be, she was proud to tell the world about it. The stories of her childhood and the many tales of Indian mythology that she would narrate instilled my love for story-telling. Every prayer that I say was taught by her. More importantly, every mistake that I made, was forgiven instantly.

She had an uncanny sense of dressing too. No, make-up wasn’t her best friend. But she had class and elegance. When Ammu dressed-up it was evident that she would be meeting new people.

Life was not fair to Ammu. Her struggles were innumerable. Perhaps that was her strength too. 

Indeed, she was rather broad-minded for women of her generation. Ammu never believed that a girl should be married even if she does not have a job.

She valued a woman’s financial independence and her ability to voice her opinion. Though it led to petty arguments between us, she took pride in those who could look after themselves. Yes, she did want me to tie the knot before it was ‘too late’. Then again, heart of hearts, she knew that things would happen when the time was right.

My grandmother knew that good things happen when least expected. This was evident from the necklace with the Krishna locket that she had handed down to me. For she believed everything good is a blessing from God and one must always be grateful for it.

Today, as I recollect those precious moments with her, I am glad to have been with her for as long as I could and enjoy a privilege that many do not have.

If I ever have a chance to see her again, even in a dream, I would like to say: Thank you Ammu for every second that we spent together. It was a desire to buy you something special with my own income. Yet, I failed to do so. When you yearned for my mature approach to life, I failed to give you the attention that you deserved. When you were sick, I failed to stand by and take a care of you. Yet, your love never dimished. Now, I promise to become a better person with each passing day and to think with my heart and mind as well as to do as much good to others. Like you always said, when you do good, good things happen to you. Shine bright like the stars and keep twinkling. That way, I would know that you are still laughing at my jokes!

The grown-up

Whoever said that being an adult is fun, is clearly mistaken. For years, I have never believed in the 'grey' way of life. Let's face it, we either like something or we don't. The 'grey area' merely refers to the silence that speaks for itself. Ever wondered how an argument between two siblings is easily resolved by a few minutes of 'Time - out'?

So, it has been a while since I had chalked out a blog post. But I guarantee you that this will be the shortest write-up of all.

Five-years of being a professional writer, teacher and a trainer I am convinced that adults clearly have more to learn as opposed to children. Our choices never make sense and our instincts are as good as compost. But most of all, we sense emotions that are baseless yet dominating. The result - a confused workaholic, a loner or worse an 'outcast'.

Personally, I believe that life is black and white. When you are in a state of dilemma, take a minute to think about how you could make the situation less mind-boggling than make it out to be. For instance, if you disagree with a friend and the fight led to nasty consequences, think of the bond that you share with him or her and work out a way by which both of you are happy and the bond continues to grow.

Simple enough?

Stay tuned for more!

All that defines us!

It was a pleasure to listen to the familiar notes of Carnatic Classical music. Having been a student of the art for more than 10 years, I deem it an honour to have been exposed to such unique yet fascinating aspects of India's cultural heritage. But more than anything else, it was the sheer joy hearing my teacher utter those melodious verses drafted by great poets and maestros.

I was excited the moment I heard him sing one my favourite ragas - Sindhu Bhairavi. It was as if he had read my mind and was determined to ensure that  I sit through the entire recital. His voice was fabulous and probably flawless. Although it has been nearly 9 years since we had sung before each other, I continue to remain in awe, and will always be grateful for the all the lessons that he has taught me.

All of a sudden,  I was transported back in time. I still remember how my guru would enter my house, dressed in a mundu and kurta/shirt, sit crossed legged and begin teaching me the very basics of Carnatic music. To me, Sa, Ri, Ga, Ma, Pa, Da, Ni are not mere notes, but are words that have always brought a cheer to me. Each note sung reminds of some of the best memories of childhood. Not to mention the manner in which I learnt how to play the harmonium too. I still recall how I would doze off during some of my music sessions, and would wake up only after sensing a smile on my teacher's face. Then again, perhaps the notes were carefully weaved into my sub-conscious and today, I remember every syllable that I was taught.

I was lucky to have been taught music by three extremely talented teachers. The first guru was instrumental is trigger that desire to learn as much as I could about this great art. My second teacher encouraged me to feel the music in everything I heard - whether songs sung in the movie, streets or even the buzzing of the generator! My third Guru taught me that music has to be enjoyed and should never be looked upon as a burden.

It is strange how something as soothing such as this is often looked down upon by a large group of people. Some claim it to be a meaningless quacking and deserves no attention, while some others believe that it is best for it to remain extinct.

I believe an art as rich as classical music should never be looked down upon. For it these art-forms that define who and where we belong. Each of these arts depicts the divine aspects of certain bonds and help us become better human beings. The Guru - shishya parampara is one such example. Was it genuine or habitual - I cannot tell. But I sensed a feeling of heartfelt respect and honour after bowing before my guru. .
After all, there is never day, I do not think of those who taught me my basics. It is this art that often keeps me in sync with the world around me. Not mention, the pride I have in hearing my own voice and re-discovering the happy elements of life.

I guess it is time for us to introspect and find out who we really are, and not pursue something so as to 'fit in.'

A walk to remember

The count down has begun. Soon, I will no longer be part of the hustling and bustling in Mumbai. Yet, I hadn't experienced the charm of Mumbai. Until one day, nature decided to show mes the romantic side of the city's madness. Indeed, I had fallen in love with the city of dreams.

       It was another hot Saturday afternoon. After spending many hours before my portable idiot box (the laptop),  I was determined to step out of the walls of my tiny room, and breathe some fresh air. I began dialing every number I could recall, wondering if anybody would like to accompany me to some of the city's most scenic spots. While one spoke of visiting a colleague the other had blatantly denied the invite saying that he had too many clothes to wash. Some others refused to answer my call. And then there was the group I did not want to enjoy my last Saturday evening in Mumbai with, primarily because I wanted stay away from the world I was associated with for too long.

     An hour or two later, I decided to ask Brijesh to accompany me to one of the most fascinating and serene places of Mumbai- Powai. 'Well, my friend is coming by, but I should be free by six thirty. However if you are busy window shopping with some other women, then carry on. My buddies and I are going to explore HRC,' said a rather excited Brijesh. The confused yet pre-occupied tone had stirred a tinge of anger. It was not long before I chose to scream as loud as I could. 'LOOK buddy, I can't tolerate the sight of clothes, shoes and bags. I want to be able to have some fun my way. So I hope to see you at the lake,' and I set out as fast I could.

The journey lasted for 30 minutes. And before I could say, WOW! I saw Brijesh dressed in a set of casuals wondering what his lost wanderer friend was upto. 'Hey! What's up?' and thus, began the most memorable walk of a lifetime. Brijesh began talking to me about his major weekend plans while I continued to complain and  mock the strange mannerisms of the world around me. It was not long before a couple of drastic changes in Brijesh's weekend plans had forced him to stay back for another hour. Sure, I mocked him. But at heart, I was on cloud 9. For I finally had a chance share some of my most satisfactory moments with a person with a 'LIVE LIFE KING SIZE' attitude. There I was a midst the blaring traffic, enjoying the most mesmerising sight of a lake, with a man who let me speak my heart out, act silly but most of all I had fun. All of a sudden, I felt a tinge of surprise. After all this time, I finally found a buddy. A person who not only valued my views, but who ensured that I value his too. And as we both walked around the lake, we began talking of a personalities, movies, careers, and a lot of random topics.

       The sight was beautiful. It was dusk. And in the distant oblivion I could see the hills craving for the moon to shower its light through the gaps of two luxurious apartments. 'LOOK at that,' and Brijesh stood still staring at the full moon which appeared to be bigger and brighter than the usual. Time flew. It was time for us to part ways. While he remained jovial until the very end, I began sensing a certain degree of sadness. I was sad for now I am sure these moments of high hopes and fantasy will soon become a mere memory and that it will have to be shelved for a very long time. I tried to hide my emotions. I wanted the night to stay still. It was the first time, I was ME. I loved myself. And I adored the way in which I chose to play my cards in the game of life.

  We soon bid adieu. As I recalled the night I realised that time works in wondrous ways. While I struggled to make a mark for myself and see the world around me, a superior power felt that 'NOW' was the time for me to enjoy the world around me. Smile and bring smiles on the faces of people. Was it Brijesh or was it the moment? I do not know. Guess, sometimes mysteries and questions can remain unanswered. It does make the tale more exciting.

Introspection

Introspection

My life is all about boundaries, norms and fair play. Everday I pray and hope for the world to stand by some of my pereceptions only so that I do not feel stressed out by the rat race. Then again, who dares to breathe, slow down, or even look at oneself especially in the game called survival of the fittest. Only a few months, and I am out of breathe. Could this maddening desire to top the charts make one more angry than those before us?

It was yet another day of yelling, abusing and confusion. My task for the day was simple for I had to do what I loved most, editing a tiny video clipping. A few hours later, I am caught for having destroyed the aesthics of the video clipping. While some ignored my mere existence, some cursed me. It was then that I had chosen to sought help. For I failed to understand the systems/procedures that are in place.

My friends advised me to quit what I was doing. So did other superiors at work. The day had come when I was in dilemma. Do I quit and bid farewell to the world I had imagined all my life? Or do I say- wait, breathe and observe? It was then I had approached my professor from college. While I waited for his reponse, I continued to display fabulous works of breatheless verbal diarrhoea among friends and family. Their advice and remarks however, seemed to had no impact on the way I perceived my life to be.

Those endless moments of self-doubt; the painful moments of having to rough it out without any support from a loved living close by; it all seemed too hard to deal with. Quitting semmed to be the easiest and most sensible option.I thought to myself- ' why must I struggle, when I have nothing to lose and the opportunity to do better?' For days, the thought kept me going until I saw my compatriots doing better. The change in my attitude and personality was indeed scary. And I knew I had to begin to take life into my own hands.

Things changed after receiving a detailed reply from my professor on the other hand. Introspect- was what he had said. A subtle reminder of one of my principles. A principle I believe in, but often fail to practice. His advice had convinced me of my faults and had motivated me to toughen up. It was then that I had taken the toughest decision and continue struggle in the hope of a better tomorrow. Indeed. His outlook regarding my flaws and the situation were not unique but had also pushed me continue doing all that I had to.

I admit, it isn't to listen to criticism. But I believe criticism from those who have observed you closely, and have always meant well for you, are worth heeding to. We often blame the world around us for the hard times we face. But do we own up for faults that are ours. May the real world exists because of the unfair blame game. After all, who would like to invite trouble? On the contrary, a world as unfair as this, can be quite a spectable and can guaratee you a million laughs. In the end, it is not about the growth, the performance or the status. It is about you. Your perceptions and what you desire to be. And nothing can stop us from being all that we want to be.

Band Stand, Bandra, Photography by Gitanjali Diwakar

(When in doubt, look at the horizon, and ask yourself if you wish to explore the world beyond. And if you do, follow your heart, strive towards the horizon and then leap, for you will never know unless you dare to to)

Celebrating life

Well, seems like I have not been writing for a long time. I admit I have neglected those who really mattered to me- my fellow readers. But I promise to make up for my absolute lack of consistency.

   They say the 'learning never ends.' I believe that is what the past three months have taught me. From tackling numerous instances of self-doubt, to being able to remain calm and emotionless in a crisis situation. I have learnt that life is no bed of roses. Then again, life has to be celebrated.

   There is so much more to the world than the tough competition and endless supply of money. All it takes a feeling heart and you will see a whole new world around you. A world were mothers are forced to carry their toddlers for hours until a kind soul offers them their seat. A world were being practical and rational is considered insane and childish.

   It was this thought that motivated me to understand the true essence of celebration. And thus, I set out on the journey to re-discover the meaning of celebration. My journey led me to a the most memorable weddings of my life. My cousin's wedding had not only given me a chance to vent out and dance to my heart's content, but had also let me re-live my childhood. For 3 days, all my cousins chose to become school kids until the celebrations had concluded.

  My journey taught me that smiles are the greatest shields of mankind. While they help you shield the troubled lives you lead, they a great source of inspiration and help you face tough times head-on. It is interesting to note that some of lives most valuable lessons are often taught to me by a nine year old girl with a traumatised childhood. Her smile, is symbol of strength and hope. And has kept me going as well.

Guess, one must search for those long lost smiles, cherish them and live the each moment for each one of them is a gift.

_________