Sunday, March 2, 2008
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Third day in Delhi
“June Ponal, July Katre……. Kan Ponal, Kathal Katre….. ”
How often ♪…… am I , ……humming these lines these days.
I was singing these lines again and again (in the month of May) as I stood near the window, starring right through it into wide open space, enjoying the rays of new day, the feel of gentle breeze, the scent of dancing flowers, and the breath of fresh air. All this I did with gently stroking my tooth brush. Friday morning it was, bright and sunny.
I firmly believe that certain things you can enjoy only when you are alone, away from the madness of routine work and people. Giving sometime for yourself, to explore the wide universe within you, ever expanding….This trip was indeed a perfect opportunity for me, to introspect myself, learn new things about myself and understand why I behave the way I do.
I have a strange habit of observing myself, as a third person. In certain actions, I see another Harish, starring at me, ridiculing the way I act for a given situation and this person always suggests me a better way of doing things, but always after the game is over, unfortunately.
And see, how things changes after 8 hrs of sound sleep. All the negative thoughts and disappointments of previous night disappeared. God, no doubt is a master planner. For he has planned things in such a way, that everything is in perfect harmony, is in perfect balance. Life is a see-saw game. You go up once and you will come down naturally. Things fall in its place, on its own. Sounding too philosophical right? Forget it.
The mistake often I do, is to remind me off my past often. There is nothing wrong in rekindling your memories sometimes, enjoy the pain of past, but it is very wrong to live in those memories. I know, but still I do.
“Rear Mirror is your past, Way ahead is your future, but more important is to drive and control in present”. Enjoy the moment, I was telling myself, to avert any accident, I mean mishaps in life.
I was ready to leave for my breakfast. But I had around 10 minutes time for that. I took my camera, and was browsing through the photographs of last two days. I felt I have not taken enough snaps of my beautiful portrait. Wondering on how to do that, I got an idea. Stood in front of the mirror and took snaps of the smart creature standing right opposite to me in the mirror. For the first time, I suppose, the photographer was getting photographed.
As I left my room, into the verandah of guest house, I saw a person, who works for that guest house staring at me, as if he had seen a strange creature from Mars, but wearing dark blue jeans and blue t shirt. I looked back. He smiled back, but put down his head immediately, may be, signs of diffidence. I went near him and asked his name. He replied back, but hardly could I hear. “Sorry, thumare Naam Kya?”, I asked again, practicing Hindi, by the way.
This time I heard him replying back, “Rashid” in bold voice. “Shaddhi! Bangaya kya?”, I asked him. He giggled and his sheepish reply in Hindi, though I did not understand, still I was able to make out that he got very recently married. I took out my digital camera, asked him to pose. He did, took one snap and showed it to him. His face was full of happiness, when he saw his face in the screen of the camera.
There is a reason why I share this incident with you. Sometimes, we fail to understand the importance of small acts of love or a morning greeting, the magic these small things can do for us and for others. We often get carried away, with the pressures of life, little realizing how important these things are in building relationships, and off late I am finding that this trait is perfectly working for me officially as well as personally.
And from there on, I was the special guest among all others in the break fast table.
I think I should acknowledge my friend Bhavani here, who taught me the importance of this trait.
We both studied together from kindergarten till 10 Standard. She was a lean girl with tons and tons of head weight. I never liked her since she was one of the fierce competitors to me in academics. But we had a get together some three years back, when I spoke with her again during the party. It is my habit often to ask for a treat, whomever I meet.
She replied “I would, but you need to come to school of special children in Annanagar”
I was really stumped by what she told and my perceptions about her were melting like huge blocks of ice kept under bright sunshine. She told me that she used to celebrate her birthday every year, in that school for special children, sponsor food for them. What a great way of celebrating birthday isn’t?
I thanked Rashid, for the special hospitality he showered on me. Nothing I did for him. But he showered so much of love, for which had only thanks as payback. Sometimes, it is true that poor people are more generous and magnanimous. They are the rich poor people, showering love on the poor rich people.
Then it was all official work, this time in Ghaziabad , around 50 kms from New Delhi .
After completion of work, proceeded straight to Gate way of India , which was wide open for one of its best citizens. There I was standing very proud, staring right into eyes of the security there, with an air of confidence. “Hey, can you question me?”
It was huge brown block, in the shape of inverted U, with fine works of architecture, in all its four sides, and with India perfectly inscribed in its center. Below the India Gate, there were pots of bright flowers, in all its four sides, neatly fenced with security, yet these flowers were extending fenceless friendship and love across the fence, to all Indians visiting there irrespective of caste, creed, religion, sex…. Please add some more to the list…. I have started forgetting my school time history lessons……
Had a nice time there. Again camera helping me in getting friends in the form of children, whose innocence I was able to capture in the snaps of mine.
As I sat on the lawn, adjoining the artificial lake, where the boating was happening, I happen to observe an old couple. They were surely some 65 plus, with everything white in their head. Grandpa was strong enough, to help his wife, strapped in her belly, into the boat. I assumed that the strap was for some medical reasons. It was great sight to see. A true love story after maybe 40 years of inception, still going strong…..Grandpa, pedaling in a white boat, with his lady love, which was lighting up the entire lake at the verge of sunset.
I returned back to my room with sweet memories.
Everything has to come to an end…. I thought as I packed all my luggage for my next day’s flight at 8 am.
As I woke up next day, the first thing I remembered, was the way, me and my friend Karthick, struggled to park the car in the cramped parking area in the company. All of us enjoy driving the car, right?
So too is luxury.
Luxury is also like the pleasure you derive when you drive a car, but the frustration is when you want to park it aside.
Got into an auto by 6 am to reach the airport. Was wearing my favourite olive green t shirt and dark blue jeans.
Was standing alone in the boarding line, by 7 am, when I heard a beautiful voice of a girl.
“Excuse me, is this the line for Pune flight” I heard. Yes, I replied as I turned back to look at her. Yes, again I told her, staring right into her eyes and turned back again.
In that short swivel, I saw a neat face, with a small bindi, and broad fore head. I was not able to see her hair style in that swivel, but it appeared as though she had a pony tail.
Though I wanted to speak with her again, still I showed off as if I never cared a damn bit for her. After some 5 minutes of silence between us, in the noisy airport, again I heard her. But this time my ears were alert enough to capture every word of hers.
“Hello! Am traveling in the flight for the first time. Can you please guide me”. Turned back, looked at her and told only one word “Sure”. But this time got confirmed that her hair style was indeed pony tail. Another 10 minutes, we stood in the line, I got my boarding pass first, offloaded my suitcase to security check. My job was over. She had no issues in getting her boarding pass as well. Then, I asked her “Are you going to take your bag in hand” She said yes, we both walked together to the final check in. I helped her in getting a Hand bag label for her bag. As we were standing in line, she told me, that her name was Sowmiya, and had come to Delhi for some training, and is leaving to Pune to meet her relatives on her way back to krishnagiri. After that I introduced myself as I used to do in an interview. Only English till the intro was over. But some how tamil found its way in our conversation, as she also happens to be from Tamil Nadu. And it was all Kadalai (Tamil slang for chatting with girls) for next two hours in the flight, as her seat was next to mine.
There was nothing important in what we spoke, often reminding myself, “Lilies that fester smell are far worse than the weeds” but two hours disappeared.
Flight landed in Pune………
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Will the donkey know the smell of camphor?
Some 6 years back, in the corridors of Sundram Medical foundation in Annanagar, I promised one girl, smiling with tears in my eyes, that I would attend her marriage for sure. I was not sure at that point, whether I would really attend for I was not confident, but she was very confident, that I would hiding her tears.
But now fear, whether I can keep up my words…….
There are some special marriages in life which you can never fail to attend.
Just think how many times we call up and give all the stupid excuses in the world for not attending some marriages, it can be your friend’s marriage or their siblings. But if I really think of those excuses, there is no honesty in it at least for me, for if I had wished and honestly tried against some minor constraints, I could have easily attended for sure.
This is a real story about three musketeers and one girl, and have got solid reasons, why am typing this at around 12 in night, for I cannot sleep without shedding off these fine threads of emotions into the following words
There were three friends, Ganguly, Rock and Sachin.
One was a dreamer, who always believed in miracles. He was a lean and an arrogant boy, had horns in his heads. Never cared a damn bit for others or for their emotions. Always would tell his friends that he was a Ganguly, not that he scored 11000 runs, but was very passionate, a step above love, as Ganguly is, in whatever he does.
The other was a well built boy, who was as smart as Rock, the famous wrestler. “You smell what the rock is cooking”, is the theme of the famous wrestler and our Mr. Rock will always smell what his mom was cooking…A typical sapatu raman….
The other was a totally practical boy. His strength is that he knows his weakness. Named as Sachin for the sake of this story, not that he was so good in cricket but was as short as sachin in reality.
All three studied together right from Kindergarden, but their friendship really blossomed only during the tenth holidays, when all three would go and play cricket together in CPWD quarters in Annanagar. There are several common threads between them. All had younger brothers. All were of similar social status, all had similar interests and ambitions in life. And all had super bi cycles…. No body can dare to steal those cycles, even if kept unlocked. And believe me Sachin after getting job in TCS also, is using the same cycle.
Ganguly and Rock were in love with a girl, of course not the same girl, and our Sachin always voiced against it. “Never trust girls”, Sachin would often say.
So they were friends by default. But Ganguly studied in coimbatore and the other two in Chennai. But whenever Ganguly comes to Chennai, it would be a grand get together for all the three. And all the three will walk umpteen number of times near the house of the girl, whom Ganguly loved and often Sachin would remark “Dei! my slipper is getting worn out because of you. You love, but why should I have too loose my slippers”
But still he did that for the sake of his friend. And some times sending reports about that girl to coimbatore .
It was a different get together that day, during second year semester holidays. It was a rainy day, but rains had stopped for a while. Sachin met Ganguly in his house; was collecting money for one of his friends who had met with an accident. Sachin is a very caring person by nature, and so no surprises that he was doing this for his friend. And Ganguly too chipped in with whatever he can. With all the money collected, however small may be, believing that every drop makes an ocean, they left to handover the money to his friends parents.
And as they entered the hospital, it was a horrible sight to see. The boy was totally wrapped in plaster, specially his lower half.
Believe me! The boy wanted to die. That’s what their parents told them.
It is very important that when you go and meet somebody injured in hospital, you give them confidence for their recovery.
But of what, they saw, though there was a dreamer in that group, he too thought that they were fighting a lost cause. They were not able to stay any longer there. Vacated the room and as they were moving out of the room, met a girl.
Ganguly immediately recognized that she was M. Arthi, who studied in SBOA till seventh and Joined Chinmaya Vidhyalaya, where he had met her some time in 10th standard during the annual carnival, for Chinmaya happens to be school where Ganguly’s younger brother was studying.
And now he is speaking with the injured boy’s lady love.
He was in no mood to speak, nor was able to give her any comfort.
But that girl was smiling, with an air of confidence, giving comfort to him, telling that every thing would be fine. Don’t worry.
“No signs of Rain; No signs of Clouds
Yet the valleys and ditches would be filled”
Though she was a Brahmin girl, should have read bible somewhere, for she was so confident. And I promised her at that moment that I would be there for her marriage, but had real doubts whether it would happen.
After that Ganguly would sometimes enquire with Sachin, about that injured boy and M. Arthi. And Sachin would update him on his recovery and also the problems faced by M. Arthi during that period.
Understand she was hardly 19 at that time, the problems that a young girl would have faced in her family, visiting hospital everyday but she did visit everyday. And also heard that, the boy’s family were little reluctant to accept this girl at that point.
But then, if no challenges and testing situations are there in life, we can never split the Annaparavai (mythical bird that splits water from milk) from the crows, flying around with low neck churdhidhars….And she is indeed a modern Nala Damayanthi.
I really love the film ‘Nala Damayanthi’, for it shows what real love is all about. You can flirt. You can think you are in love. But only when the real situation demands, you really come to know whether it is love or infatuation. There is one beautiful conversation between Madhavan and Geetu Mohandoss, where he explains her what real love his all about. And whenever I see this movie, I remind myself of only one person, M. Arthi.
Just some 1 month back, we heard the news that she is getting married to the same injured boy in our yahoo groups, through our very own Sachin, who had met the injured boy somewhere.
Yes, a perfect ending to a perfect love story indeed. 200% perfect
But that idiotic stupid Sachin has got no contacts of that boy nor M. Arthi now. And I still don’t know whether I would keep up my words and attend her marriage coming October. But then my search is on, in orkut.
No signs of rain; no signs of clouds. I don’t know whether I would find her before her marriage. But let us wait and see whether valleys and ditches are filled……….
Sachin still holds “Never trust girls”.
But may be now he says “Never trust 90% of girls” But those remaining 10% are real gems.
And M. Arthi certainly is one among them, would certainly glitter in my heart forever.
There is a solid reason for writing it tonight. Those days, when living under thatched roofs, people fear for scorpion bites. Because, scorpions can never be good friends. Their sting really hurts. They move silently, hurt those who stay along with them. That’s the way god has created scorpions.
And am a scorpio born in the month of December, and many of you in this group have got the real taste of my bites, the real stings, specially those whom I like the most.
And yesterday, it was Mr. Sachin’s turn, for he had commented wrongly on what I wrote and I gave him a real sting. (Check out the mail below)
My sting really hurts,
But it also means
my love for you is true……..
And do remember bites of scorpion really cleanse your blood.
And he is another gem in my life; for he is caring and helpful; a true friend whom you can rely on when you are in real trouble.
Words once spelt out can never be taken back and have never taken back my words. So, still I hold
Will the donkey know the smell of camphor?
All what I wrote never reached the persons whom I intended but now am posting it immediately, expressing to them what they mean to us in life…..But, I bet, that Sachin will never read it till the very end….Will get some nonsense comment instead…Now, you tell me should I have to sting him or not?
But now fear, whether I can keep up my words…….
There are some special marriages in life which you can never fail to attend.
Just think how many times we call up and give all the stupid excuses in the world for not attending some marriages, it can be your friend’s marriage or their siblings. But if I really think of those excuses, there is no honesty in it at least for me, for if I had wished and honestly tried against some minor constraints, I could have easily attended for sure.
This is a real story about three musketeers and one girl, and have got solid reasons, why am typing this at around 12 in night, for I cannot sleep without shedding off these fine threads of emotions into the following words
There were three friends, Ganguly, Rock and Sachin.
One was a dreamer, who always believed in miracles. He was a lean and an arrogant boy, had horns in his heads. Never cared a damn bit for others or for their emotions. Always would tell his friends that he was a Ganguly, not that he scored 11000 runs, but was very passionate, a step above love, as Ganguly is, in whatever he does.
The other was a well built boy, who was as smart as Rock, the famous wrestler. “You smell what the rock is cooking”, is the theme of the famous wrestler and our Mr. Rock will always smell what his mom was cooking…A typical sapatu raman….
The other was a totally practical boy. His strength is that he knows his weakness. Named as Sachin for the sake of this story, not that he was so good in cricket but was as short as sachin in reality.
All three studied together right from Kindergarden, but their friendship really blossomed only during the tenth holidays, when all three would go and play cricket together in CPWD quarters in Annanagar. There are several common threads between them. All had younger brothers. All were of similar social status, all had similar interests and ambitions in life. And all had super bi cycles…. No body can dare to steal those cycles, even if kept unlocked. And believe me Sachin after getting job in TCS also, is using the same cycle.
Ganguly and Rock were in love with a girl, of course not the same girl, and our Sachin always voiced against it. “Never trust girls”, Sachin would often say.
So they were friends by default. But Ganguly studied in coimbatore and the other two in Chennai. But whenever Ganguly comes to Chennai, it would be a grand get together for all the three. And all the three will walk umpteen number of times near the house of the girl, whom Ganguly loved and often Sachin would remark “Dei! my slipper is getting worn out because of you. You love, but why should I have too loose my slippers”
But still he did that for the sake of his friend. And some times sending reports about that girl to coimbatore .
It was a different get together that day, during second year semester holidays. It was a rainy day, but rains had stopped for a while. Sachin met Ganguly in his house; was collecting money for one of his friends who had met with an accident. Sachin is a very caring person by nature, and so no surprises that he was doing this for his friend. And Ganguly too chipped in with whatever he can. With all the money collected, however small may be, believing that every drop makes an ocean, they left to handover the money to his friends parents.
And as they entered the hospital, it was a horrible sight to see. The boy was totally wrapped in plaster, specially his lower half.
Believe me! The boy wanted to die. That’s what their parents told them.
It is very important that when you go and meet somebody injured in hospital, you give them confidence for their recovery.
But of what, they saw, though there was a dreamer in that group, he too thought that they were fighting a lost cause. They were not able to stay any longer there. Vacated the room and as they were moving out of the room, met a girl.
Ganguly immediately recognized that she was M. Arthi, who studied in SBOA till seventh and Joined Chinmaya Vidhyalaya, where he had met her some time in 10th standard during the annual carnival, for Chinmaya happens to be school where Ganguly’s younger brother was studying.
And now he is speaking with the injured boy’s lady love.
He was in no mood to speak, nor was able to give her any comfort.
But that girl was smiling, with an air of confidence, giving comfort to him, telling that every thing would be fine. Don’t worry.
“No signs of Rain; No signs of Clouds
Yet the valleys and ditches would be filled”
Though she was a Brahmin girl, should have read bible somewhere, for she was so confident. And I promised her at that moment that I would be there for her marriage, but had real doubts whether it would happen.
After that Ganguly would sometimes enquire with Sachin, about that injured boy and M. Arthi. And Sachin would update him on his recovery and also the problems faced by M. Arthi during that period.
Understand she was hardly 19 at that time, the problems that a young girl would have faced in her family, visiting hospital everyday but she did visit everyday. And also heard that, the boy’s family were little reluctant to accept this girl at that point.
But then, if no challenges and testing situations are there in life, we can never split the Annaparavai (mythical bird that splits water from milk) from the crows, flying around with low neck churdhidhars….And she is indeed a modern Nala Damayanthi.
I really love the film ‘Nala Damayanthi’, for it shows what real love is all about. You can flirt. You can think you are in love. But only when the real situation demands, you really come to know whether it is love or infatuation. There is one beautiful conversation between Madhavan and Geetu Mohandoss, where he explains her what real love his all about. And whenever I see this movie, I remind myself of only one person, M. Arthi.
Just some 1 month back, we heard the news that she is getting married to the same injured boy in our yahoo groups, through our very own Sachin, who had met the injured boy somewhere.
Yes, a perfect ending to a perfect love story indeed. 200% perfect
But that idiotic stupid Sachin has got no contacts of that boy nor M. Arthi now. And I still don’t know whether I would keep up my words and attend her marriage coming October. But then my search is on, in orkut.
No signs of rain; no signs of clouds. I don’t know whether I would find her before her marriage. But let us wait and see whether valleys and ditches are filled……….
Sachin still holds “Never trust girls”.
But may be now he says “Never trust 90% of girls” But those remaining 10% are real gems.
And M. Arthi certainly is one among them, would certainly glitter in my heart forever.
There is a solid reason for writing it tonight. Those days, when living under thatched roofs, people fear for scorpion bites. Because, scorpions can never be good friends. Their sting really hurts. They move silently, hurt those who stay along with them. That’s the way god has created scorpions.
And am a scorpio born in the month of December, and many of you in this group have got the real taste of my bites, the real stings, specially those whom I like the most.
And yesterday, it was Mr. Sachin’s turn, for he had commented wrongly on what I wrote and I gave him a real sting. (Check out the mail below)
My sting really hurts,
But it also means
my love for you is true……..
And do remember bites of scorpion really cleanse your blood.
And he is another gem in my life; for he is caring and helpful; a true friend whom you can rely on when you are in real trouble.
Words once spelt out can never be taken back and have never taken back my words. So, still I hold
Will the donkey know the smell of camphor?
All what I wrote never reached the persons whom I intended but now am posting it immediately, expressing to them what they mean to us in life…..But, I bet, that Sachin will never read it till the very end….Will get some nonsense comment instead…Now, you tell me should I have to sting him or not?
Monday, July 2, 2007
To my dear wife
It all started when I was studying in 8th standard.
My class girls, all the tiny tots that I had seen all these years, were blooming into beautiful flowers, more attractive than ever before in their short skirts….But then, by what my inner conscience told me, I was not suppose to look at them that way…
At this point, V joined us from Padma sheshadri….
Those days, naughty boys were made to sit in between girls, and since I was one among them, to stop me from being naughty and to make me less talkative, I was made to sit between V and A…but then that never solved the purpose, my teachers intended…I became more talkative….
Still remember the first smile of V’s….Went to her and asked her, “What’s your name?”
She told, “Pardon”.
“Oh! So you’re a Christian”, I replied back. Never knew what pardon means at that time, thought pardon was some Christian name.
She started smiling aloud. I was puzzled by her smile but joined with her smiling….My first crush…..It lasted for one year. She left SBOA and joined some other school after that. Still wish I find her before my marriage, and send her a invite……wish she comes along with her kids….and of course with my never challenged enemy…her husband.
Next two years, thought these things are not worth it, and studied hard.
Then it was M in eleventh. I can write a novel on her, for there are so many incidents, as well as accidents worth sharing, which I would for sure after marriage…..but then, she can never be my crush….
For 8 years, was always singing the song
“Yentha Penilum ilatha onru!
Athu etho, Athu etho,
unnidam irukirathu,
athai ariyamal vidamatten
athuvarai unnai thoda matten”
But then now she is married and somebody else wife……..So, if I sing that song now, I think I will get only beatings with log from her husband…..
So started, flirting from last December, but seriously with no wrong intentions…
Chatting, talking, sms but nothing more….just to get myself deviated from thoughts of M….
One too many, around that time from office colleagues to Adhyiaman college friends…. D, M, R, K, another D.
Was playing for Krishnagiri B division cricket league and was a star in Adhyiaman college for my cricket skills……..Oh! I miss cricket very much now….
Hope you play shuttle, need to play that after marriage for sure J
It was always me who went behind those girls………….but somehow when D really happened, when I was in Hosur, I felt I was doing something wrong….Her intentions were wrong……..really felt it that way and am very happy that I have taken a right decision…..but still sometimes the trouble continues…….
Decided to stop everything before i left for pune.....But a thief will get caught only when he is not stealing...the saying came true when i got some virtual slapping for no fault of mine, from another V, just very recently, due to mis communication.......but still the Journey continues……
Still don’t know….how many before I tie my knot….Oh Jesus! I really feel pity for the girl who is going to marry me…….
Always wished a love marriage, but then now had to show green signal to my mom’s wish. And my mom is all in business now, figuring out the right match for me…..Business Negotiations are on……………Thought of writing this for the girl whom my mom shortlists for me, for she needs to understand that….
I don’t wish a
Marriage between ambassadors and fiats
Marriage between plots and 2BHK flats
But only a real marriage between two caring hearts…
Because, nothing more I can promise, but for simple honest life……with two kids of course
And, if you have any doubts, I have got only four words for you……
“Keep away from me”
Think twice! Is my honest advice…. Am a open book, which you can read, but don’t tear any pages (even if you like it or don’t like)
For I am a beast, emotional and hypersensitive…… Watch the film “beauty and the beast” before you marry me……
Best wishes! I wrote this blog for you… so that you can really understand what I am!
For nothing we can understand in those ten minutes that our parents give, awfully looking at each other, just like humans staring at monkeys in zoo! Hope you are not one of those monkeys…. Just kidding
Best wishes again! And if possible write a similar blog, so that I can understand you…But not mandatory, for I am very sure you can never be as worse as I am……
Think again is my final words for you!
After committing, it is your fate J
Till that time you can find me in Pune, gracefully sighting all those beautiful girls… Enjoy life only one we have……
Cheers
Harish devakumar
No signs of rain...No signs of cloud....
Yet the valleys and the ditches will be filled....
Believe in Belief
My class girls, all the tiny tots that I had seen all these years, were blooming into beautiful flowers, more attractive than ever before in their short skirts….But then, by what my inner conscience told me, I was not suppose to look at them that way…
At this point, V joined us from Padma sheshadri….
Those days, naughty boys were made to sit in between girls, and since I was one among them, to stop me from being naughty and to make me less talkative, I was made to sit between V and A…but then that never solved the purpose, my teachers intended…I became more talkative….
Still remember the first smile of V’s….Went to her and asked her, “What’s your name?”
She told, “Pardon”.
“Oh! So you’re a Christian”, I replied back. Never knew what pardon means at that time, thought pardon was some Christian name.
She started smiling aloud. I was puzzled by her smile but joined with her smiling….My first crush…..It lasted for one year. She left SBOA and joined some other school after that. Still wish I find her before my marriage, and send her a invite……wish she comes along with her kids….and of course with my never challenged enemy…her husband.
Next two years, thought these things are not worth it, and studied hard.
Then it was M in eleventh. I can write a novel on her, for there are so many incidents, as well as accidents worth sharing, which I would for sure after marriage…..but then, she can never be my crush….
For 8 years, was always singing the song
“Yentha Penilum ilatha onru!
Athu etho, Athu etho,
unnidam irukirathu,
athai ariyamal vidamatten
athuvarai unnai thoda matten”
But then now she is married and somebody else wife……..So, if I sing that song now, I think I will get only beatings with log from her husband…..
So started, flirting from last December, but seriously with no wrong intentions…
Chatting, talking, sms but nothing more….just to get myself deviated from thoughts of M….
One too many, around that time from office colleagues to Adhyiaman college friends…. D, M, R, K, another D.
Was playing for Krishnagiri B division cricket league and was a star in Adhyiaman college for my cricket skills……..Oh! I miss cricket very much now….
Hope you play shuttle, need to play that after marriage for sure J
It was always me who went behind those girls………….but somehow when D really happened, when I was in Hosur, I felt I was doing something wrong….Her intentions were wrong……..really felt it that way and am very happy that I have taken a right decision…..but still sometimes the trouble continues…….
Decided to stop everything before i left for pune.....But a thief will get caught only when he is not stealing...the saying came true when i got some virtual slapping for no fault of mine, from another V, just very recently, due to mis communication.......but still the Journey continues……
Still don’t know….how many before I tie my knot….Oh Jesus! I really feel pity for the girl who is going to marry me…….
Always wished a love marriage, but then now had to show green signal to my mom’s wish. And my mom is all in business now, figuring out the right match for me…..Business Negotiations are on……………Thought of writing this for the girl whom my mom shortlists for me, for she needs to understand that….
I don’t wish a
Marriage between ambassadors and fiats
Marriage between plots and 2BHK flats
But only a real marriage between two caring hearts…
Because, nothing more I can promise, but for simple honest life……with two kids of course
And, if you have any doubts, I have got only four words for you……
“Keep away from me”
Think twice! Is my honest advice…. Am a open book, which you can read, but don’t tear any pages (even if you like it or don’t like)
For I am a beast, emotional and hypersensitive…… Watch the film “beauty and the beast” before you marry me……
Best wishes! I wrote this blog for you… so that you can really understand what I am!
For nothing we can understand in those ten minutes that our parents give, awfully looking at each other, just like humans staring at monkeys in zoo! Hope you are not one of those monkeys…. Just kidding
Best wishes again! And if possible write a similar blog, so that I can understand you…But not mandatory, for I am very sure you can never be as worse as I am……
Think again is my final words for you!
After committing, it is your fate J
Till that time you can find me in Pune, gracefully sighting all those beautiful girls… Enjoy life only one we have……
Cheers
Harish devakumar
No signs of rain...No signs of cloud....
Yet the valleys and the ditches will be filled....
Believe in Belief
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Every Man lives for his own emotions
It was one of those great matches of 2003 Cricket world Cup. India Vs Pakistan . I was one among those fourth year hostelites gathered in the cramped TV room in our hostel, dancing every time, Sachin was stroking the ball through the gaps. Emotions were running high and me dancing to its tunes. Never wondered then why I was dancing. But now I do.
Another incident, it was 13-11 score line against me in a shuttle match. The opponent was 5 years younger to me; still I was on the verge of loosing. He served. The shuttle dropped very close to line. I called it out as we had no umpire to Judge. He argued it was in. I was loosing my temper very badly, though I knew the person with whom I am fighting with, is my most favorite person in this world, though I sincerely believe that there can be no ratings in love. Yet, by miles he comes first. But still I feared loosing to him. Sacrifices, he had made I never remembered at that moment. Taking the blame for the mistake I did, breaking a foreign scent bottle, when he was just studying in 2nd standard, because he never wanted his elder brother to get the beatings from his mother. Never wondered then why I was fighting. But now I do.
Every man lives for his own emotions. No doubts.
But give a thought, on who the actual winner was?
Me, winning the match 15 -13.
But there was this gem, walking off gracefully with a tinge of smile in his beautiful face looking at my victory celebrations, may be now I understand that smile was for the maturity levels his elder brother had at that point in his life.
Normally, normal people rejoice their victories, like I was doing. They look elegant and graceful when they are winning, but now I understand, great people like my younger brother are those who look elegant and graceful even when they loose. You get happiness when you win. But more happiness you get, when you see your loved ones win.
Humans are different from animals they say only because of their emotions and their ability to express their feelings. So why should I have to constrain them?
I wish I mark a copy of this write up in my diary to my brother, but still I hold why the hell should I tell him that I love him?
Cheers
Harish
Another incident, it was 13-11 score line against me in a shuttle match. The opponent was 5 years younger to me; still I was on the verge of loosing. He served. The shuttle dropped very close to line. I called it out as we had no umpire to Judge. He argued it was in. I was loosing my temper very badly, though I knew the person with whom I am fighting with, is my most favorite person in this world, though I sincerely believe that there can be no ratings in love. Yet, by miles he comes first. But still I feared loosing to him. Sacrifices, he had made I never remembered at that moment. Taking the blame for the mistake I did, breaking a foreign scent bottle, when he was just studying in 2nd standard, because he never wanted his elder brother to get the beatings from his mother. Never wondered then why I was fighting. But now I do.
Every man lives for his own emotions. No doubts.
But give a thought, on who the actual winner was?
Me, winning the match 15 -13.
But there was this gem, walking off gracefully with a tinge of smile in his beautiful face looking at my victory celebrations, may be now I understand that smile was for the maturity levels his elder brother had at that point in his life.
Normally, normal people rejoice their victories, like I was doing. They look elegant and graceful when they are winning, but now I understand, great people like my younger brother are those who look elegant and graceful even when they loose. You get happiness when you win. But more happiness you get, when you see your loved ones win.
Humans are different from animals they say only because of their emotions and their ability to express their feelings. So why should I have to constrain them?
I wish I mark a copy of this write up in my diary to my brother, but still I hold why the hell should I tell him that I love him?
Cheers
Harish
Mans world of kisses and hugs
This poem i wrote after watching the film matrix, where the hero had the ability to switch over from real world to the world of matrix through phone lines
Mans virtual world of kisses and hugs
In a world of matrix I was there alone
With open space around vast and wide
Had ability to change background that surround
from building tiles to serene mountains
from blue skies to watery fountains
Virtual world at best; imagination at test
Slept in cold England previous night
And woke up as designed in Lanka under bright
Sunshine; had planned meaty hugs and kisses too
What more i could do
I wondered, wondering
Why my soul was yet missing something
"Tring Tring" phone started ringing
Heart started pumping, ending my thinking
Back in world of reality, attending friend's call
With love and warmth in my soul;
The two ingredients that i sorely missed
In my virtual solitude world of matrix
Questioning
What the hell do these
hugs and kisses mean without warmth and love?
Mans virtual world of kisses and hugs
In a world of matrix I was there alone
With open space around vast and wide
Had ability to change background that surround
from building tiles to serene mountains
from blue skies to watery fountains
Virtual world at best; imagination at test
Slept in cold England previous night
And woke up as designed in Lanka under bright
Sunshine; had planned meaty hugs and kisses too
What more i could do
I wondered, wondering
Why my soul was yet missing something
"Tring Tring" phone started ringing
Heart started pumping, ending my thinking
Back in world of reality, attending friend's call
With love and warmth in my soul;
The two ingredients that i sorely missed
In my virtual solitude world of matrix
Questioning
What the hell do these
hugs and kisses mean without warmth and love?
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Second day in delhi
Alarm started ringing at 6 am.
I woke up immediately to change the time in alarm to 7 and slept again. Again it started ringing at 7. This time, cursing why one hour is not sixty minutes during morning alone, I woke up. As usual, I was in front of the mirror in just few seconds of my wake up call, wondering how am I becoming so smart and handsome these days. I smiled gently. The smile, of course was for the quote “Imagination was given to man to console him for what he is not and humor to console him for what he is”, which I remembered instantaneously. It is for you to decide which one is a fact for me, imagination or sense of humor or both but both are good traits to have in your kit.
In next half an hour, completed my morning duties. Everything was provided right from tooth brush to towel. Cursed myself why I had planned so much luggage unnecessarily. Other interesting thing was that there was “Lakme Sunscreen Lotion” in my bathroom. Never had the habit of applying these cosmetics on face, so far. Never wasted money, on them. But, if something is given free of cost, why not I thought and applied them on my face…..Bright and glowing I was out of my bathroom, after having a warm shower after a long time. Don’t mistake I take cold bath daily.
Got myself formally dressed for the official work. Went to dinning room for morning breakfast. They say, “You should have your breakfast like a king, lunch like a commoner and dinner like a beggar”
Was for sure having my breakfast like a king.
Puris, panner butter masalas, Lassi and for some items I don’t know the name. Me, being an opportunist always was taking a good toll of what was offered. Took a snap of this, and planned to change the orkut profile name from Harish Devakumar, the beauty and the beast” to “Harish…eating well…..”, after changing the photograph.
I took my bag, wore it across, and did some small official thinking on what to do there. Had to walk some 100 meters from the guest house to find an auto to reach my official destination.
The road was called Helly Road . My eyes were gazing at every opportunity to look those beautiful girls making a brisk walk down the road. Believe me, Delhi girls are the most prettiest of all what I have seen. Well built with excellent feminine aspects, typically Punjabi bred, fair and beautiful. This topic is interesting, especially for a person like me as I was brought up in a typical south Indian family, where the told and untold rules of relationships build huge boundaries between a girl and a boy. The way I see a girl has changed all these years, and keeps changing every moment. But, if given an opportunity to rate the Indian girls of different states for beauty aspect of their personality, my vote will always go for Delhi girls and I have reasons for that. In short, Keralites are the best among South Indians. They are fair, pretty, and their eyes and long hair needs a special mention. But like all typical South Indian girls, they lack the height and briskness, which these Delhi girls posses. I never felt the heat of Delhi , because of these girls, though the temperature was in high forties, still I did not sweat.
Next four hours, hectic official work.
I returned back by 2.00 pm to guest house. Had lunch. Was about to take a nap. Switched on the television. My favourite tamil movie was on. So was watching it for the next two hours.
At around 4.30 pm, reached Palika Bazaar, a famous underground shopping complex. I have seen tall huge shopping malls, love the spencers in Chennai, but haven’t seen anything like Palika Bazaar before. The first thing you observe is the huge dome, surrounded by green field. So where are the shops?
As you enter the bazaar, get downstairs into the complex, you can see a wide variety of shops in short circles of definite radius. If you don’t follow the path properly, you will walk past the same shops again and again. This bazaar was in news not long time back for all bad reasons, hope you remember “Trial room saga of Delhi girls”. Not interested to discuss this topic right now.
Anyway, it was a great shopping experience. Bought some t shirts and jeans for me and my brother. My bargaining skills are increasing day by day. I was so satisfied with my skills. Very happy that I was able to negotiate in Hindi, from Rs 1250/- per jean to Rs 350/-. After washing these jeans only, I would know whether I am smart or not. Also enquired about i-pods, which I wanted to gift my cousin sister on her coming birthday this September.
As I came out of the complex, I sat down in the park surrounding the bazaar. A lush green cover, under bright yellow sun, was glittering with galaxies of colorful couples. Nostalgically, I remembered my school days. My then sweet heart and my first poetry “Whatever I do, wherever I go, you got to know, it is for You”
There was some pain in my heart. But people always say that this pain of love is painful. But for me, it never was. In fact, I enjoyed the every moment I was in pain, I mean in love. I hope I can call that so. Now I hope you can appreciate these lines of mine
“Listen to the roars of victory and to the sore feelings of defeat,
Within your heart for just a moment,
For just a moment, there shall be ecstasy or there shall be pain,
There shall be love or there shall be hatred,
But all these vanishes within the infinity of time
With just a hope,
That it would repeat or not,
Starting again from the start,
The repeating cycle, the vicious circle”
Last December, my school time sweet heart got married and she is happily settled in Singapore . Very happy for her. For she a true gem and very good human being. And that’s why I loved her. As simple as that.
With these thoughts and some sweet memories, I returned back to my room, still searching for that smile, I had at the start of the day.
There was no much interest in dinner that night, with all these thoughts in mind, but again slept hard. Very tired emotionally…….(To be continued)
I woke up immediately to change the time in alarm to 7 and slept again. Again it started ringing at 7. This time, cursing why one hour is not sixty minutes during morning alone, I woke up. As usual, I was in front of the mirror in just few seconds of my wake up call, wondering how am I becoming so smart and handsome these days. I smiled gently. The smile, of course was for the quote “Imagination was given to man to console him for what he is not and humor to console him for what he is”, which I remembered instantaneously. It is for you to decide which one is a fact for me, imagination or sense of humor or both but both are good traits to have in your kit.
In next half an hour, completed my morning duties. Everything was provided right from tooth brush to towel. Cursed myself why I had planned so much luggage unnecessarily. Other interesting thing was that there was “Lakme Sunscreen Lotion” in my bathroom. Never had the habit of applying these cosmetics on face, so far. Never wasted money, on them. But, if something is given free of cost, why not I thought and applied them on my face…..Bright and glowing I was out of my bathroom, after having a warm shower after a long time. Don’t mistake I take cold bath daily.
Got myself formally dressed for the official work. Went to dinning room for morning breakfast. They say, “You should have your breakfast like a king, lunch like a commoner and dinner like a beggar”
Was for sure having my breakfast like a king.
Puris, panner butter masalas, Lassi and for some items I don’t know the name. Me, being an opportunist always was taking a good toll of what was offered. Took a snap of this, and planned to change the orkut profile name from Harish Devakumar, the beauty and the beast” to “Harish…eating well…..”, after changing the photograph.
I took my bag, wore it across, and did some small official thinking on what to do there. Had to walk some 100 meters from the guest house to find an auto to reach my official destination.
The road was called Helly Road . My eyes were gazing at every opportunity to look those beautiful girls making a brisk walk down the road. Believe me, Delhi girls are the most prettiest of all what I have seen. Well built with excellent feminine aspects, typically Punjabi bred, fair and beautiful. This topic is interesting, especially for a person like me as I was brought up in a typical south Indian family, where the told and untold rules of relationships build huge boundaries between a girl and a boy. The way I see a girl has changed all these years, and keeps changing every moment. But, if given an opportunity to rate the Indian girls of different states for beauty aspect of their personality, my vote will always go for Delhi girls and I have reasons for that. In short, Keralites are the best among South Indians. They are fair, pretty, and their eyes and long hair needs a special mention. But like all typical South Indian girls, they lack the height and briskness, which these Delhi girls posses. I never felt the heat of Delhi , because of these girls, though the temperature was in high forties, still I did not sweat.
Next four hours, hectic official work.
I returned back by 2.00 pm to guest house. Had lunch. Was about to take a nap. Switched on the television. My favourite tamil movie was on. So was watching it for the next two hours.
At around 4.30 pm, reached Palika Bazaar, a famous underground shopping complex. I have seen tall huge shopping malls, love the spencers in Chennai, but haven’t seen anything like Palika Bazaar before. The first thing you observe is the huge dome, surrounded by green field. So where are the shops?
As you enter the bazaar, get downstairs into the complex, you can see a wide variety of shops in short circles of definite radius. If you don’t follow the path properly, you will walk past the same shops again and again. This bazaar was in news not long time back for all bad reasons, hope you remember “Trial room saga of Delhi girls”. Not interested to discuss this topic right now.
Anyway, it was a great shopping experience. Bought some t shirts and jeans for me and my brother. My bargaining skills are increasing day by day. I was so satisfied with my skills. Very happy that I was able to negotiate in Hindi, from Rs 1250/- per jean to Rs 350/-. After washing these jeans only, I would know whether I am smart or not. Also enquired about i-pods, which I wanted to gift my cousin sister on her coming birthday this September.
As I came out of the complex, I sat down in the park surrounding the bazaar. A lush green cover, under bright yellow sun, was glittering with galaxies of colorful couples. Nostalgically, I remembered my school days. My then sweet heart and my first poetry “Whatever I do, wherever I go, you got to know, it is for You”
There was some pain in my heart. But people always say that this pain of love is painful. But for me, it never was. In fact, I enjoyed the every moment I was in pain, I mean in love. I hope I can call that so. Now I hope you can appreciate these lines of mine
“Listen to the roars of victory and to the sore feelings of defeat,
Within your heart for just a moment,
For just a moment, there shall be ecstasy or there shall be pain,
There shall be love or there shall be hatred,
But all these vanishes within the infinity of time
With just a hope,
That it would repeat or not,
Starting again from the start,
The repeating cycle, the vicious circle”
Last December, my school time sweet heart got married and she is happily settled in Singapore . Very happy for her. For she a true gem and very good human being. And that’s why I loved her. As simple as that.
With these thoughts and some sweet memories, I returned back to my room, still searching for that smile, I had at the start of the day.
There was no much interest in dinner that night, with all these thoughts in mind, but again slept hard. Very tired emotionally…….(To be continued)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)