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
Saturday, June 30, 2007
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)
First day in delhi
Any journey to any place is an experience. For with it, it always brings an expectation. You expect a new place, out of the world, beautiful girls, historical monuments, tall facades, and what not.
I always carry a picture of the place I visit, in mind’s eye, of what I have seen and heard. And I had a picture of Delhi too, which I was visiting for official reasons. With soldiers marching under bright sun shine, pigeons flying around, India gate and Qatb Minar in background, the picture was complete in my mind.
I wish to share the experience I had there in Delhi through this piece of writing, which would let you know the expectations, thoughts, ecstasies, fantasies and disappointments of the 26 year old chap in his three days of stay there. So, If interested continue reading to see what the reality had in offer for him, as against his expectation.
My trip to Delhi , started with me, joining with ……………, at his residence. He was typical Bengali with wine in one hand, cigar in the other, still found some means to fry the fish. As soon as I entered he remarked “Would you like to have some wine”. Me had to nod off the request, cursing myself on why I haven’t got into this habit for social reasons yet, because one who doesn’t drink is still considered a strange species, strangely!
He was leading a typical bachelor’s life, with family packed off to their native. “A bachelor lives like a king and dies like a dog, whereas a married person lives like a dog and dies like a king”, is indeed true… And the dog (just for fun) was now living like a king, at least till his family comes off their summer vacation.
The fish was very tasty, I remarked and as I swallowed three pieces, we spoke a lot about fishes, with 90% of time, me listening to his statements about fishes. I wondered at the knowledge these Bengalis possess about fishes. It is very true that Bengali Brahmins serve fishes even to Gods. I got that confirmed from him.
We left his residence at around 6 pm and it was a planned one hour travel from his residence to airport. The flight was at 7. 30 pm. Traffic jams and poor skills of the auto driver compounded our problems and we reached the airport only at 7.15 pm. I scolded the driver very badly for his poor skills, little realizing then I could have started an half an hour earlier.
Had no time even to call my parents, boarded the flight in a hurry.
It was a Jet airways flight. I would be lying if I say that I did not expect a Kingfisher. Not just for the pleasure of it, but for am great fan of Vijay Malya. His remark, a favourite of mine, after making some 160 crore loss in business, “Was expecting a 200 crore loss. Lucky that I have got 40 crores less loss”. See the way people see a problem. Approach is all that matters.
Was welcomed into the flight with the usual sound of “welcome sir” from Airhostesses, singing in chorus. This makes me totally uncomfortable, while beautiful girls call in chorus, me getting very conscious of my style and looks as I enter the flight, very much knowing nothing can change in the way I look.
I never had great regards for the job of airhostess or for them. But this time around, as I sat in peace, waiting for the take off, I had strange thoughts going rounds. These girls were explaining the safety procedures in flight and all passengers were busy doing their job. There were two kinds of passengers, one who know what they were telling and other who don’t know what they were telling yet pretending and don’t want to show that they don’t know. I belong to the second category. Shamefully admitting, that I too was acting as if I was a frequent flier, though I have traveled four times now. How bad we would feel, when you speak something, and the one whom you expect to listen doesn’t do that and busy going about his job? Horrible…I felt very sad for these girls but when I shared this with my colleague. “hey that’s why they are being paid Rs 40000/- per month equivalent to an engineers salary”
I had never felt comfortable traveling in a flight, with the continuous buzzing sound ringing in your ears, cramped seating, and artificial beauties surrounding you. As the flight was about to take off, remembered my child hood dreams, when I used to wait for the moment, numbering the days to go to airport to welcome my father, who was at that time working in Saudi Arabia. Not that I was so interested to see my loved father back, never knew why I never loved him till date, but to see the big aeroplanes & helicopters in close quarters.
My relationship with my father is little difficult to understand. I wish to share my emotions attached with it. For there is, a lesson or two for those, who are going to get married and have kids. It is very mandatory as a parent to be near your kid, when he is growing, which I missed very badly. Dr. Ravishankar, mentor of Art of living, used to say that “It is mandatory when a child is born, to hold them against the mother’s heart for the first few seconds, to make him/her comfortable to the new world. Heard noise always make us more comfortable, isn’t? Father should be near till he grows, for that natural affection and love to blossom. I still envy the relationship or the love between my father and my younger brother, but never made attempts to reconcile nor develop it. I respect my father for his attitude, for his skills, and never was able to find anything wrong in what he does. But still, I never loved him. We speak, we share, and still something is missing. I don’t know what it is.
As the flight took off, I peeped out through the window. It is indeed a glorious sight to see the lighted roads, moving vehicles, predominantly yellow spots in dark black sheet.
You feel so superior to see those tall huge buildings as tiny dots and you scale the entire city in your eyesight. Spare a thought for Wright brothers.
Next two hours was reading the book “Anne frank: Diary of young women”, and my office colleague was sleeping all through the journey. Felt so bad, that I did not have anybody to speak with, big problem when you travel with old people.
The flight landed at around 10 pm in Delhi . Me and my office colleague parted ways, as he was going to his sister’s place and me to my booked guest house.
Now, here I am in Delhi all alone. Do understand I don’t know Hindi, and am alone at night 10. 30, with preying taxi drivers around you, asking questions, for which you can hardly reply.
From as high as Rs 500/-, I struggled hard to bargain a taxi for Rs 300/-. With my butler hindi and English in perfect combination finally helping me in finding a taxi. Me on my way to Gauri Sadan, official guest house of TATA MOTORS LTD.
As usual, was speaking with the taxi driver. Got to know that his name was Munna. I told him very frankly in first few seconds of travel, “Hey Munna! Please understand I am yet to get married. I am the only son for my family, but for my brother. So please drive slowly” He was driving his Tata Indica through gaps, where I would fear to take even my motorbike. He was a driver with exceptional driving skills, may be with proper guidance and help, he could have become a Michael Schumacher of India . But unfortunately, nobody knows how many such Schumachers of India are still driving taxis.
I scolded an autodriver for his poor driving skills just three hours before and now god is making me realize my fault by showing the other extreme of it.
Fortunately, yes fortunately, I landed in my guest house safely.
The journey was thrilling, but more fear than thrill. Even in this fear, still I caught few glimpses of Delhi with my sleepy eyes and tired mind. The broadness of Delhi roads, and the way they maintain them, neat and clean. Heard of Singapore and Malaysia , but of what I have seen, I suppose these are the best roads available in India .
Entered the guest house. Had a warm welcome and was shown my room. It was a beautiful luxury room with two beds, yellow light gracefully glowing, and a fully air-conditioned room. I stood in front of the mirror, tried a few hair styles with my bare hands. Then washed my face, changed my clothing and slept hard. Nothing more I knew, nor thought that night. Very tired……. ( To be continued………..)
*************************************************
I always carry a picture of the place I visit, in mind’s eye, of what I have seen and heard. And I had a picture of Delhi too, which I was visiting for official reasons. With soldiers marching under bright sun shine, pigeons flying around, India gate and Qatb Minar in background, the picture was complete in my mind.
I wish to share the experience I had there in Delhi through this piece of writing, which would let you know the expectations, thoughts, ecstasies, fantasies and disappointments of the 26 year old chap in his three days of stay there. So, If interested continue reading to see what the reality had in offer for him, as against his expectation.
My trip to Delhi , started with me, joining with ……………, at his residence. He was typical Bengali with wine in one hand, cigar in the other, still found some means to fry the fish. As soon as I entered he remarked “Would you like to have some wine”. Me had to nod off the request, cursing myself on why I haven’t got into this habit for social reasons yet, because one who doesn’t drink is still considered a strange species, strangely!
He was leading a typical bachelor’s life, with family packed off to their native. “A bachelor lives like a king and dies like a dog, whereas a married person lives like a dog and dies like a king”, is indeed true… And the dog (just for fun) was now living like a king, at least till his family comes off their summer vacation.
The fish was very tasty, I remarked and as I swallowed three pieces, we spoke a lot about fishes, with 90% of time, me listening to his statements about fishes. I wondered at the knowledge these Bengalis possess about fishes. It is very true that Bengali Brahmins serve fishes even to Gods. I got that confirmed from him.
We left his residence at around 6 pm and it was a planned one hour travel from his residence to airport. The flight was at 7. 30 pm. Traffic jams and poor skills of the auto driver compounded our problems and we reached the airport only at 7.15 pm. I scolded the driver very badly for his poor skills, little realizing then I could have started an half an hour earlier.
Had no time even to call my parents, boarded the flight in a hurry.
It was a Jet airways flight. I would be lying if I say that I did not expect a Kingfisher. Not just for the pleasure of it, but for am great fan of Vijay Malya. His remark, a favourite of mine, after making some 160 crore loss in business, “Was expecting a 200 crore loss. Lucky that I have got 40 crores less loss”. See the way people see a problem. Approach is all that matters.
Was welcomed into the flight with the usual sound of “welcome sir” from Airhostesses, singing in chorus. This makes me totally uncomfortable, while beautiful girls call in chorus, me getting very conscious of my style and looks as I enter the flight, very much knowing nothing can change in the way I look.
I never had great regards for the job of airhostess or for them. But this time around, as I sat in peace, waiting for the take off, I had strange thoughts going rounds. These girls were explaining the safety procedures in flight and all passengers were busy doing their job. There were two kinds of passengers, one who know what they were telling and other who don’t know what they were telling yet pretending and don’t want to show that they don’t know. I belong to the second category. Shamefully admitting, that I too was acting as if I was a frequent flier, though I have traveled four times now. How bad we would feel, when you speak something, and the one whom you expect to listen doesn’t do that and busy going about his job? Horrible…I felt very sad for these girls but when I shared this with my colleague. “hey that’s why they are being paid Rs 40000/- per month equivalent to an engineers salary”
I had never felt comfortable traveling in a flight, with the continuous buzzing sound ringing in your ears, cramped seating, and artificial beauties surrounding you. As the flight was about to take off, remembered my child hood dreams, when I used to wait for the moment, numbering the days to go to airport to welcome my father, who was at that time working in Saudi Arabia. Not that I was so interested to see my loved father back, never knew why I never loved him till date, but to see the big aeroplanes & helicopters in close quarters.
My relationship with my father is little difficult to understand. I wish to share my emotions attached with it. For there is, a lesson or two for those, who are going to get married and have kids. It is very mandatory as a parent to be near your kid, when he is growing, which I missed very badly. Dr. Ravishankar, mentor of Art of living, used to say that “It is mandatory when a child is born, to hold them against the mother’s heart for the first few seconds, to make him/her comfortable to the new world. Heard noise always make us more comfortable, isn’t? Father should be near till he grows, for that natural affection and love to blossom. I still envy the relationship or the love between my father and my younger brother, but never made attempts to reconcile nor develop it. I respect my father for his attitude, for his skills, and never was able to find anything wrong in what he does. But still, I never loved him. We speak, we share, and still something is missing. I don’t know what it is.
As the flight took off, I peeped out through the window. It is indeed a glorious sight to see the lighted roads, moving vehicles, predominantly yellow spots in dark black sheet.
You feel so superior to see those tall huge buildings as tiny dots and you scale the entire city in your eyesight. Spare a thought for Wright brothers.
Next two hours was reading the book “Anne frank: Diary of young women”, and my office colleague was sleeping all through the journey. Felt so bad, that I did not have anybody to speak with, big problem when you travel with old people.
The flight landed at around 10 pm in Delhi . Me and my office colleague parted ways, as he was going to his sister’s place and me to my booked guest house.
Now, here I am in Delhi all alone. Do understand I don’t know Hindi, and am alone at night 10. 30, with preying taxi drivers around you, asking questions, for which you can hardly reply.
From as high as Rs 500/-, I struggled hard to bargain a taxi for Rs 300/-. With my butler hindi and English in perfect combination finally helping me in finding a taxi. Me on my way to Gauri Sadan, official guest house of TATA MOTORS LTD.
As usual, was speaking with the taxi driver. Got to know that his name was Munna. I told him very frankly in first few seconds of travel, “Hey Munna! Please understand I am yet to get married. I am the only son for my family, but for my brother. So please drive slowly” He was driving his Tata Indica through gaps, where I would fear to take even my motorbike. He was a driver with exceptional driving skills, may be with proper guidance and help, he could have become a Michael Schumacher of India . But unfortunately, nobody knows how many such Schumachers of India are still driving taxis.
I scolded an autodriver for his poor driving skills just three hours before and now god is making me realize my fault by showing the other extreme of it.
Fortunately, yes fortunately, I landed in my guest house safely.
The journey was thrilling, but more fear than thrill. Even in this fear, still I caught few glimpses of Delhi with my sleepy eyes and tired mind. The broadness of Delhi roads, and the way they maintain them, neat and clean. Heard of Singapore and Malaysia , but of what I have seen, I suppose these are the best roads available in India .
Entered the guest house. Had a warm welcome and was shown my room. It was a beautiful luxury room with two beds, yellow light gracefully glowing, and a fully air-conditioned room. I stood in front of the mirror, tried a few hair styles with my bare hands. Then washed my face, changed my clothing and slept hard. Nothing more I knew, nor thought that night. Very tired……. ( To be continued………..)
*************************************************
Oru mugam maraiya Maru mugam theriya Kanadi Ithayam illai
Listen! If your intentions are wrong you are bound to fail...
Your mail to me was worth admiring for its writing skills only, but there is no truth in it. How long do we know each other, hardly 4 months and these 4 months, what do we know of each other....
See, a person who had failed in love, normally shares if he get somebody who listen to his stories, but it never means he is up there for grabs....He too has his own personal interest....do understand....
We shall be friends for sure.
Harish
Your mail to me was worth admiring for its writing skills only, but there is no truth in it. How long do we know each other, hardly 4 months and these 4 months, what do we know of each other....
See, a person who had failed in love, normally shares if he get somebody who listen to his stories, but it never means he is up there for grabs....He too has his own personal interest....do understand....
We shall be friends for sure.
Harish
Loyalty de-flower-ed
So colorful is their delicate finery
That they adorn the serene scenery
These fragile flowers never shiver
Even in the coldest haven
Nor do they ever complain about the wetting rain
Smiles emblazon their expression
Greeting all people they meet,
Good or bad extending
Fenceless friendship across the fence
But we humans don’t care
Nor share their painful solitude
Garlanding them with the dead
Still silence is their only reaction
To the tortures of soaring emotion
And loyal forever to the disloyal
Accompanying us even in death
That they adorn the serene scenery
These fragile flowers never shiver
Even in the coldest haven
Nor do they ever complain about the wetting rain
Smiles emblazon their expression
Greeting all people they meet,
Good or bad extending
Fenceless friendship across the fence
But we humans don’t care
Nor share their painful solitude
Garlanding them with the dead
Still silence is their only reaction
To the tortures of soaring emotion
And loyal forever to the disloyal
Accompanying us even in death
Love affair with moon
Flowers faded darkness pervaded
Announcing the demise of the day;
Dark sky’s mystic presence
Speaking eloquence in silence;
Deep thoughts ran through and
World seemed an empty burrow
during night walk with no one to talk;
With moon following me along,
Catching up my every step,
Grooming her figure every night,
Temptations of love affair
were on cards- So sad,
she had, only one heart to spare and
many queuing to love and care;
With NEIL ARMSTRONG already there,
my mind envisaged engagement
Between him and crescent;
Still I tried my damn luck
Knowing my proposal was a dead duck;
“Loving moon! Slightly moonstruck,
mooning all around- why
find fault with surround”
conscience smote me;
The vacuity in my proposal
The reason for her refusal
Evident to my vagrant mind.
Though just a distant onlooker now
the seed of love sowed
has grown into a tree;
Every 30 days, when the
moon is on honeymoon,
blank sky creates obsession very soon;
My love for her never failed
Announcing the demise of the day;
Dark sky’s mystic presence
Speaking eloquence in silence;
Deep thoughts ran through and
World seemed an empty burrow
during night walk with no one to talk;
With moon following me along,
Catching up my every step,
Grooming her figure every night,
Temptations of love affair
were on cards- So sad,
she had, only one heart to spare and
many queuing to love and care;
With NEIL ARMSTRONG already there,
my mind envisaged engagement
Between him and crescent;
Still I tried my damn luck
Knowing my proposal was a dead duck;
“Loving moon! Slightly moonstruck,
mooning all around- why
find fault with surround”
conscience smote me;
The vacuity in my proposal
The reason for her refusal
Evident to my vagrant mind.
Though just a distant onlooker now
the seed of love sowed
has grown into a tree;
Every 30 days, when the
moon is on honeymoon,
blank sky creates obsession very soon;
My love for her never failed
Eloping with my dream girl
Green meadows with smiling flowers
Cattle grazing near purple clovers
Dark clouds have stopped showers
but still the tree weep
learning tragic tale of lovers
sharing warmth and wreathing beneath it
breathing each others breath
Shall we elope ?
Her query made him shiver and
thoughts flowed like river
Meandering an unknown path?
Burdening parents’ wrath?
Fearing pricking thorns
not on feet but heart
everyday and all the way;
Tears disseminated his melancholy
Bee fiddling with its precious honey
for the sake of honeymoon?
“Wake up! Wake up buffoon”
His mom shook him up too soon;
He woke up not only from sleep
With disturbed senses reiterating
It’s not the time to elope
but to climb the slope
to reach the peak of peaks.
Cattle grazing near purple clovers
Dark clouds have stopped showers
but still the tree weep
learning tragic tale of lovers
sharing warmth and wreathing beneath it
breathing each others breath
Shall we elope ?
Her query made him shiver and
thoughts flowed like river
Meandering an unknown path?
Burdening parents’ wrath?
Fearing pricking thorns
not on feet but heart
everyday and all the way;
Tears disseminated his melancholy
Bee fiddling with its precious honey
for the sake of honeymoon?
“Wake up! Wake up buffoon”
His mom shook him up too soon;
He woke up not only from sleep
With disturbed senses reiterating
It’s not the time to elope
but to climb the slope
to reach the peak of peaks.
Sun Sand & Wave (Triangular love story)
With sky stripping off her dark dress
Announcing the demise of darkness
Out he came from beneath sea’s unknown depths
Adorning the sky at east, glowing golden
Proud of his graceful looks and radiant glance
Very sure of wedlock of his choice
With milky smiles, up she comes like a slatted cave
The favorite princess of Mother Sea , wave
Gently rising, sprinting and wading through
Caressing the shore sand whom she loves
Tireless of her ruthless attempts
Striving hard to pull the grain sand
Off the shore to the realm of ocean
With breeze whispering her eternal love
Spreading the fragrance to distant galaxies
“Oh! What love and care for subject sand”
Voices soared, reached the ears of sun
Simmering with jealous, the hottest summer it was
Scorching the whims and love fancies of waves
Never once did she fret about intense heat
But thought of her lover being bakedAnd brought out her unseen immense potent
Like a diving leopard, she soared great heights
Satiating shore sand’s parched lips
Carrying the thorns of heat with her
Still, condoning the misdoings of sun
“ Seething lust for dust” bashed the blazer
Unable to tolerate his heartless torture
She wept spreading salty tears to sea’s extent
The white clouds came to her rescue
Wrapping him in his white blanket
But no way this going to stop conflict
Destiny had the final laugh
“Life defeats everyone at their strong point”
With all his energy spent, down he went at west
For the dark to crown once again
With the crescent shinning bright
They found warmth, then forever
Sand and ripple were a perfect couple
Announcing the demise of darkness
Out he came from beneath sea’s unknown depths
Adorning the sky at east, glowing golden
Proud of his graceful looks and radiant glance
Very sure of wedlock of his choice
With milky smiles, up she comes like a slatted cave
The favorite princess of Mother Sea , wave
Gently rising, sprinting and wading through
Caressing the shore sand whom she loves
Tireless of her ruthless attempts
Striving hard to pull the grain sand
Off the shore to the realm of ocean
With breeze whispering her eternal love
Spreading the fragrance to distant galaxies
“Oh! What love and care for subject sand”
Voices soared, reached the ears of sun
Simmering with jealous, the hottest summer it was
Scorching the whims and love fancies of waves
Never once did she fret about intense heat
But thought of her lover being bakedAnd brought out her unseen immense potent
Like a diving leopard, she soared great heights
Satiating shore sand’s parched lips
Carrying the thorns of heat with her
Still, condoning the misdoings of sun
“ Seething lust for dust” bashed the blazer
Unable to tolerate his heartless torture
She wept spreading salty tears to sea’s extent
The white clouds came to her rescue
Wrapping him in his white blanket
But no way this going to stop conflict
Destiny had the final laugh
“Life defeats everyone at their strong point”
With all his energy spent, down he went at west
For the dark to crown once again
With the crescent shinning bright
They found warmth, then forever
Sand and ripple were a perfect couple
What's so private
Closed doors with ‘DON’T DISTURB’ boards
Young charmers flirting with hapless bawds
Tobacco barrels caressing thoughtless minds
Their mouths reeking like chimneys
These human engines stammer
Fuelled with alcohol
And Privacy is all what they call
Young charmers flirting with hapless bawds
Tobacco barrels caressing thoughtless minds
Their mouths reeking like chimneys
These human engines stammer
Fuelled with alcohol
And Privacy is all what they call
Child Labour
Crackers bursting with intense clamor
Charkas revolving with graceful glamour
Streets wrapped with advertising banners
Showing diwali is around the corner
Flower pots giving birth to new stars
And exploding bombs declaring friendly wars
Children dressed in their new attire
And their amusement never seem to retire
They the offspring’s of rich bucks
But the child labours of no luck
Are miles away from the smiles of fortune
Smiling a while, while they are
A mile away from smile
Risking their life and childhood
To give their share of wood
For the food to steam
In their poverty ridden realm
Like logs in fire, these kids
Smolder in cruelty of society
These innocent prats play no games
Hating their fate for our botch
For the fire to quench in their pauch
To change their fate
Stop buying crackers
From industries employing child labours
Charkas revolving with graceful glamour
Streets wrapped with advertising banners
Showing diwali is around the corner
Flower pots giving birth to new stars
And exploding bombs declaring friendly wars
Children dressed in their new attire
And their amusement never seem to retire
They the offspring’s of rich bucks
But the child labours of no luck
Are miles away from the smiles of fortune
Smiling a while, while they are
A mile away from smile
Risking their life and childhood
To give their share of wood
For the food to steam
In their poverty ridden realm
Like logs in fire, these kids
Smolder in cruelty of society
These innocent prats play no games
Hating their fate for our botch
For the fire to quench in their pauch
To change their fate
Stop buying crackers
From industries employing child labours
The Path of heart
Caught in wild churns of two worlds
At the extremes of both, brain and heart
One says wrong and the other says right
One says intelligence and the other moral
One zoomed the pain of sharing
And the other zeroed it as sharing pain
In between I stand with one intellect
Figuring out the right path which
Would be my chosen path;
Thorns to start with and heavens to follow
Or roses to start with and hells to follow
Which would be my chosen path?
Tough decision to make with no surety
Of both, Heaven and hell and no clarity
Over the domains of roses and thorns
Yet, in the darkness of conscious thought
I chose the light of ultimate truth
The path of peace and love-The path of heart
At the extremes of both, brain and heart
One says wrong and the other says right
One says intelligence and the other moral
One zoomed the pain of sharing
And the other zeroed it as sharing pain
In between I stand with one intellect
Figuring out the right path which
Would be my chosen path;
Thorns to start with and heavens to follow
Or roses to start with and hells to follow
Which would be my chosen path?
Tough decision to make with no surety
Of both, Heaven and hell and no clarity
Over the domains of roses and thorns
Yet, in the darkness of conscious thought
I chose the light of ultimate truth
The path of peace and love-The path of heart
Freedom
Restrictions are to be restricted
Rules are to be broken
Freedom! Complete freedom
Is what my young mind cried for
Too young and naïve
To understand the intricacies
Of these wired fences
Looking only at the metallic thorns
And not the roses they protect
I broke open the fence
To see my garden of independence
Struggle in whirlpool of ignorance
Trampling the roses of happiness
Ignorance of what really
FREEDOM means…
Rules are to be broken
Freedom! Complete freedom
Is what my young mind cried for
Too young and naïve
To understand the intricacies
Of these wired fences
Looking only at the metallic thorns
And not the roses they protect
I broke open the fence
To see my garden of independence
Struggle in whirlpool of ignorance
Trampling the roses of happiness
Ignorance of what really
FREEDOM means…
Maturity
Straightened walk and filtered talk
Darkened moustache and taller physique
Shortened smile and cultivated style
They say I have grown, have I?
Yes, if the beaker of measure
Were physical and social stature
But is that the real growth?
No, I really doubt.
Why does that which comes with age
Put all the playfulness into cage?
Rugs of constrained emotion
Is Maturity’s wrong definition.
The sugarcoated tablet
The child within every adult
With free mind and innocent heart
The medicine for deceased growth
Darkened moustache and taller physique
Shortened smile and cultivated style
They say I have grown, have I?
Yes, if the beaker of measure
Were physical and social stature
But is that the real growth?
No, I really doubt.
Why does that which comes with age
Put all the playfulness into cage?
Rugs of constrained emotion
Is Maturity’s wrong definition.
The sugarcoated tablet
The child within every adult
With free mind and innocent heart
The medicine for deceased growth
Air Hostess smile
Genuine,
I thought were
All expressions of love,
Or must be
Unlike air hostess smile;
Words never express
Nor do any senses
It’s an inner cry,
Which yours and yours truly
Can sense and relish
Without any external polish
And never a genuine love
Expect one of genuine in return
I thought were
All expressions of love,
Or must be
Unlike air hostess smile;
Words never express
Nor do any senses
It’s an inner cry,
Which yours and yours truly
Can sense and relish
Without any external polish
And never a genuine love
Expect one of genuine in return
Waiting for her
Long I stood unawares awaiting her arrival
Like the tired sleep of a rigorous traveler,
Though seconds were my hours’ survival
Still it fired my hearts’ patient barrier.
She does that everyday without fail,
Stop with a shiver where I stand
And force in harness my fortune sail
With rattles which hardly I understand
I was ready to give up, not long ago
But I rely on her everyday
And tangles of lifetime never let me go
in means other than her routine way
Half an hour late she was,
Because of mechanical failure
And finally I understand her travail
In all these years of travel
Yes, here I am
Traveling in my daily bus
Like the tired sleep of a rigorous traveler,
Though seconds were my hours’ survival
Still it fired my hearts’ patient barrier.
She does that everyday without fail,
Stop with a shiver where I stand
And force in harness my fortune sail
With rattles which hardly I understand
I was ready to give up, not long ago
But I rely on her everyday
And tangles of lifetime never let me go
in means other than her routine way
Half an hour late she was,
Because of mechanical failure
And finally I understand her travail
In all these years of travel
Yes, here I am
Traveling in my daily bus
Understanding
The more I study
the same phrase of same words;
The more I understand
So too is my study of yours truly
the same phrase of same words;
The more I understand
So too is my study of yours truly
Barber Shop
Barber Shop
An hour-long wait it was at the barbershop;
To start with, I was patient enough
To read the books there;
But after a while
My mind’s focus
Shifted towards small girl
With tears in her eyes,
Probably in the barber shop for the first time;
Unaware of her fathers’ hands,
Comforting hands
Tears were swelling and were
Ready to explode.
Cornered eyeballs of hers
Were firmly focused on the barber’s scissors
And were exploring, surely exploring
The other violent possibilities
Of the weapon in his hand
Other than trimming her hair
Too childish isn’t?
Yes, too childish but
Touch your heart
And ask your self a simple question
“ What you think about your future life”
The world is no different to child’s barber shop
With futuristic thoughts
As big as the scissors in your eyes;
Of course, you are the child
Unaware of heavenly fathers’ hands
Comforting hands,
Exploring the wild courses of life
And the result is pain and insecurity
All through
Your predictions of expected
Can go wrong and
You can never predict the unexpected
So why unnecessarily predict
Life is a puzzle and please
Do not try to solve
All at once because
Then you would loose
Interest in it;
Life is very simple
and don’t make it complex
Let life take its own course
With hundrend percent effort
Every moment
An hour-long wait it was at the barbershop;
To start with, I was patient enough
To read the books there;
But after a while
My mind’s focus
Shifted towards small girl
With tears in her eyes,
Probably in the barber shop for the first time;
Unaware of her fathers’ hands,
Comforting hands
Tears were swelling and were
Ready to explode.
Cornered eyeballs of hers
Were firmly focused on the barber’s scissors
And were exploring, surely exploring
The other violent possibilities
Of the weapon in his hand
Other than trimming her hair
Too childish isn’t?
Yes, too childish but
Touch your heart
And ask your self a simple question
“ What you think about your future life”
The world is no different to child’s barber shop
With futuristic thoughts
As big as the scissors in your eyes;
Of course, you are the child
Unaware of heavenly fathers’ hands
Comforting hands,
Exploring the wild courses of life
And the result is pain and insecurity
All through
Your predictions of expected
Can go wrong and
You can never predict the unexpected
So why unnecessarily predict
Life is a puzzle and please
Do not try to solve
All at once because
Then you would loose
Interest in it;
Life is very simple
and don’t make it complex
Let life take its own course
With hundrend percent effort
Every moment
Terror Mirror
Terror mirror
Moments later my wake up call,
Seconds after morning dew’s fall,
With partially open eyes
I peep into the terror mirror
Hoping for a change whatsoever;
Soft strokes that I make with hand
Like breeze kissing past sea sand
Caressing the minor dislocations
Which require major alterations;
Praying for divine boon soon,
For the glamorous transmutation
Curses to unnecessary anxiety
Associated with this morbid curiosity;
It never reflects the inner beauty
Why then we go by looks?
Is a question that hooks?
Like drunkard’s plight the previous night
Making un-kept oaths,
Our misdemeanor continues………..
Accidents that may alter life’s events
Lessons that life may teach
Changes that time may bring about
Clout my mind with a vivid image
Mind like pool of water,
Clearer it is, clearer would be the reflection
And waves that disturb, is our diffidence.
“Face off! Face off!” cries my mirror
Not contours and profiles of face
But the false facades of mind
Mirror - the silver reflector of mind’s clarity
And not the blind reflector of one’s beauty.
Moments later my wake up call,
Seconds after morning dew’s fall,
With partially open eyes
I peep into the terror mirror
Hoping for a change whatsoever;
Soft strokes that I make with hand
Like breeze kissing past sea sand
Caressing the minor dislocations
Which require major alterations;
Praying for divine boon soon,
For the glamorous transmutation
Curses to unnecessary anxiety
Associated with this morbid curiosity;
It never reflects the inner beauty
Why then we go by looks?
Is a question that hooks?
Like drunkard’s plight the previous night
Making un-kept oaths,
Our misdemeanor continues………..
Accidents that may alter life’s events
Lessons that life may teach
Changes that time may bring about
Clout my mind with a vivid image
Mind like pool of water,
Clearer it is, clearer would be the reflection
And waves that disturb, is our diffidence.
“Face off! Face off!” cries my mirror
Not contours and profiles of face
But the false facades of mind
Mirror - the silver reflector of mind’s clarity
And not the blind reflector of one’s beauty.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Divine Girl
Divine Girl ( Only to my school time sweet heart)
Expecting the arrival of divine girl
I was ready to wait for my life
Since I know someday that
She would jump from Heaven
And meet me on earth
With heart
And innocence like that of child
And no expectations of any kind
For you have so much expectations
And wish ur girl to have none
I heard within this voice
Which said this with distict poise
"First shed ur expectations
Because
Expectations are unexpected in Divine relation"
I shall treasure every moment of her,
Even if in dream
I shall hold her in my heart forever,
Even if in pain
For I consider her too divine
And shall never allow
Reality to defy nor even refine her divinity.
Expecting the arrival of divine girl
I was ready to wait for my life
Since I know someday that
She would jump from Heaven
And meet me on earth
With heart
And innocence like that of child
And no expectations of any kind
For you have so much expectations
And wish ur girl to have none
I heard within this voice
Which said this with distict poise
"First shed ur expectations
Because
Expectations are unexpected in Divine relation"
I shall treasure every moment of her,
Even if in dream
I shall hold her in my heart forever,
Even if in pain
For I consider her too divine
And shall never allow
Reality to defy nor even refine her divinity.
Chinni Kum...Shivaji...The Boss...
I wrote this piece of work after watching the movie “Shivaji”. For those, who haven’t seen the movie yet, don’t worry I am not telling the story here.
Old is gold
Strength lies in differences, not in similarities.
These words of Stephen Covey, I remind myself, whenever I think about the generation gap; the big fight between the old and the new. This piece of work is about the thoughts of a young individual, after watching the movies of two aging acting legends, and how he correlates them to the two real life old heroes, he had met.
It was raining heavily in Pune that day. We heard the news that Shivaji, the Boss will be released on 21st of June 2007, the very next day. There is some pride, very hard to describe, in watching RajiniKanth movie on the first day of its release. I was literally steaming between ears, when we learnt that ten of our colleagues had already booked tickets and none from our team was included in those ten tickets. That evening, myself and my colleague Satya, sparing no respect for rain, left out to book tickets for our team. Luckily got tickets for the movie Shivaji, as well as two tickets for the film ‘Chinni Kum’, for which I paid including taxes through my debit card.
Sometime back, when the movie was released, Rajini had remarked humbly, that “Amitabh is an emperor, and he just a king”
And I was lucky enough to watch the movies of both the king and the emperor, that too in two successive days. Chinni Kum, is a soft emotional melodrama expressing the emotions of a 64 year old Amitabh, in love with a 34 year old Tabu, with both willing to marry each other. Funnily, Tabu’s father in the movie is 6 years younger to Big B, unwilling to let her daughter marry an old man.
This movie is worth watching, for it beautifully expresses that death, the five letters most feared word, is not something for the old alone, and not something to fear about always while taking decisions. The movie really touches your heart, when Tabu remarks, ‘Wish I was sexy’, when the small cute girl by pet name Sexy dies due to blood cancer, consoling the pains in tears of Amitabh’s old eyes.
After watching this movie, I reminded myself of a great poem “We are seven” by Wordsworth, which is about a little girl, who is innocent to the extent, that she is not willing to accept that her two siblings are dead, and they are only five now. She says with blind conviction, that they are seven, not accepting that the two are dead, for she knows nothing of that most feared five letters word, death.
How many are you, then," said I,"If they two are in heaven?"Quick was the little Maid's reply,"O Master! we are seven.""But they are dead; those two are dead!Their spirits are in heaven!"'Twas throwing words away; for stillThe little Maid would have her will,And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
Sometimes, I feel, the most adorable thing in life, is the hope, that too the blind one. Blind conviction of younger generation.
Hope never dies. And it never did, till the last scene of Shivaji, I was shouting loudly cheering my hero, expecting a typical Rajini Bonanza. Mince no words; the film was not even to thirty percent of my expectations, and only his last half an hour act as ‘Mottai Boss’ was worth watching, and his dialogue ‘Nane Shivaji, Nane MGR’ is worth listening a thousand times.
At the end of it all, felt really happy that I watched the first preview show in Pune, through proper means, paying for the tickets through my debit card, luckily and inadvertently, because it is a film that speaks against the black economy, that suffocates our country currently, but still, left me wondering how many people in Tamil Nadu are buying tickets in black to watch the movie that speaks against it.
Oh yes, Two icons, delivering two distinctly different movies, at the fag end of their careers, with their trade mark punch is worth admiring.
Indeed “Old is gold”
But as young bulls, we never realize this.
Once a young engineer, walked into a room of retired consultant, and questioned the credibility of the proposal of manufacturing the car in 1 Lakh rupees. For which, the old replied bluntly, “The door is there, wide open, for you too walk out, if you don’t believe in it”
Saw this happen to a colleague of mine, so never had the guts to face this old man, with very little white hair sticking around his shinning bald head that too neatly cut, paying unnecessarily to the barber, I thought. Indeed he was a shining example for all what he is, not just for physical reasons alone, because he happens to be the Shivaji of Mrs. Sudha Murthy. I mean the boss of founder of Infosys foundation.
Just for information, Mrs. Murthy was the first woman employee of TATA MOTORS LTD, and she had worked under him.
Simply, I love this man, for the energy that he possess at his age, dancing along with young engineers in the get together party. And no surprises, indeed he was dancing, shaking his hip like the pop singer Shakira, would do in the song “Whenever………..”
And, whenever, you have a problem to solve, be it technically or personally, pose it to him. He would answers for all of them in his very own unique simple philosophical way. He often says, the most intelligent people are those who seek for help, at right times. So, understand there is no point in reinventing the wheel.
Trust is the most important word he relies on, for that matter all old horses, distinctly opposite to the word hope, we rely on….Just try to figure out the subtle difference between these two words, you shall understand why there is so much difference of opinion between the generations. One tries to build a monument for the future generation, based on experiences and facts, it endured all these years and the other tries to build a castle in air, based on expectations and blind hopes.
Yet, still I wonder why my hope never dies…..for I am indeed young, just 26 years old.
He reminded me of my grandfather.
Two years back, I wrote an article about the generation gap, which luckily got published in Voice your views column in ‘The Hindu’, where I wrote that I drew immense inspiration listening to the bed time stories of my grandfather about his life struggles and pain he endured, which helps me to face the harsh realities of life today, which today’s kids are missing badly, for they are glued to their virtual world of computers and sorely miss such beautiful relationships.
Just two weeks later, my grandfather passed away. I don’t know whether it is mere coincidence in life that it happened that way that he passed away, after reading the article written by his grandson. But, when I arrived to mourn his death at his place, more than his death, the article was more talked about, much against my wishes. But learnt from my grandmother that he was so happy reading it, when she cried hugging me.
I wanted to cry that day, but never dropped a single drop of tears from my eyes. Sometimes, I wonder how tears too can betray you in Life.
But was a very proud grandson, remembering my grandfather’s words
“Men never cry
Old is gold
Strength lies in differences, not in similarities.
These words of Stephen Covey, I remind myself, whenever I think about the generation gap; the big fight between the old and the new. This piece of work is about the thoughts of a young individual, after watching the movies of two aging acting legends, and how he correlates them to the two real life old heroes, he had met.
It was raining heavily in Pune that day. We heard the news that Shivaji, the Boss will be released on 21st of June 2007, the very next day. There is some pride, very hard to describe, in watching RajiniKanth movie on the first day of its release. I was literally steaming between ears, when we learnt that ten of our colleagues had already booked tickets and none from our team was included in those ten tickets. That evening, myself and my colleague Satya, sparing no respect for rain, left out to book tickets for our team. Luckily got tickets for the movie Shivaji, as well as two tickets for the film ‘Chinni Kum’, for which I paid including taxes through my debit card.
Sometime back, when the movie was released, Rajini had remarked humbly, that “Amitabh is an emperor, and he just a king”
And I was lucky enough to watch the movies of both the king and the emperor, that too in two successive days. Chinni Kum, is a soft emotional melodrama expressing the emotions of a 64 year old Amitabh, in love with a 34 year old Tabu, with both willing to marry each other. Funnily, Tabu’s father in the movie is 6 years younger to Big B, unwilling to let her daughter marry an old man.
This movie is worth watching, for it beautifully expresses that death, the five letters most feared word, is not something for the old alone, and not something to fear about always while taking decisions. The movie really touches your heart, when Tabu remarks, ‘Wish I was sexy’, when the small cute girl by pet name Sexy dies due to blood cancer, consoling the pains in tears of Amitabh’s old eyes.
After watching this movie, I reminded myself of a great poem “We are seven” by Wordsworth, which is about a little girl, who is innocent to the extent, that she is not willing to accept that her two siblings are dead, and they are only five now. She says with blind conviction, that they are seven, not accepting that the two are dead, for she knows nothing of that most feared five letters word, death.
How many are you, then," said I,"If they two are in heaven?"Quick was the little Maid's reply,"O Master! we are seven.""But they are dead; those two are dead!Their spirits are in heaven!"'Twas throwing words away; for stillThe little Maid would have her will,And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
Sometimes, I feel, the most adorable thing in life, is the hope, that too the blind one. Blind conviction of younger generation.
Hope never dies. And it never did, till the last scene of Shivaji, I was shouting loudly cheering my hero, expecting a typical Rajini Bonanza. Mince no words; the film was not even to thirty percent of my expectations, and only his last half an hour act as ‘Mottai Boss’ was worth watching, and his dialogue ‘Nane Shivaji, Nane MGR’ is worth listening a thousand times.
At the end of it all, felt really happy that I watched the first preview show in Pune, through proper means, paying for the tickets through my debit card, luckily and inadvertently, because it is a film that speaks against the black economy, that suffocates our country currently, but still, left me wondering how many people in Tamil Nadu are buying tickets in black to watch the movie that speaks against it.
Oh yes, Two icons, delivering two distinctly different movies, at the fag end of their careers, with their trade mark punch is worth admiring.
Indeed “Old is gold”
But as young bulls, we never realize this.
Once a young engineer, walked into a room of retired consultant, and questioned the credibility of the proposal of manufacturing the car in 1 Lakh rupees. For which, the old replied bluntly, “The door is there, wide open, for you too walk out, if you don’t believe in it”
Saw this happen to a colleague of mine, so never had the guts to face this old man, with very little white hair sticking around his shinning bald head that too neatly cut, paying unnecessarily to the barber, I thought. Indeed he was a shining example for all what he is, not just for physical reasons alone, because he happens to be the Shivaji of Mrs. Sudha Murthy. I mean the boss of founder of Infosys foundation.
Just for information, Mrs. Murthy was the first woman employee of TATA MOTORS LTD, and she had worked under him.
Simply, I love this man, for the energy that he possess at his age, dancing along with young engineers in the get together party. And no surprises, indeed he was dancing, shaking his hip like the pop singer Shakira, would do in the song “Whenever………..”
And, whenever, you have a problem to solve, be it technically or personally, pose it to him. He would answers for all of them in his very own unique simple philosophical way. He often says, the most intelligent people are those who seek for help, at right times. So, understand there is no point in reinventing the wheel.
Trust is the most important word he relies on, for that matter all old horses, distinctly opposite to the word hope, we rely on….Just try to figure out the subtle difference between these two words, you shall understand why there is so much difference of opinion between the generations. One tries to build a monument for the future generation, based on experiences and facts, it endured all these years and the other tries to build a castle in air, based on expectations and blind hopes.
Yet, still I wonder why my hope never dies…..for I am indeed young, just 26 years old.
He reminded me of my grandfather.
Two years back, I wrote an article about the generation gap, which luckily got published in Voice your views column in ‘The Hindu’, where I wrote that I drew immense inspiration listening to the bed time stories of my grandfather about his life struggles and pain he endured, which helps me to face the harsh realities of life today, which today’s kids are missing badly, for they are glued to their virtual world of computers and sorely miss such beautiful relationships.
Just two weeks later, my grandfather passed away. I don’t know whether it is mere coincidence in life that it happened that way that he passed away, after reading the article written by his grandson. But, when I arrived to mourn his death at his place, more than his death, the article was more talked about, much against my wishes. But learnt from my grandmother that he was so happy reading it, when she cried hugging me.
I wanted to cry that day, but never dropped a single drop of tears from my eyes. Sometimes, I wonder how tears too can betray you in Life.
But was a very proud grandson, remembering my grandfather’s words
“Men never cry
Shielded Volcano
There was calmness and serenity surrounding thee,
Was a bright wedding eve, smiling aloud was she,
One among the group of three, posing for photo near tree,
Perfect picture it was, snapping the lovely smiling face,
Ever could you gauge;
She a serene mountain, with shielded volcano inside
Like colorful rainbow, smiling bright
After the rain tears of previous night
With swirling commotions within
And hidden emotions in stale expressions,
Never will you gauge
Do understand she too a human being
Contradicting Bryons lines
A mind (not) at peace with all below
(Yet) a heart whose love is innocent...
(Dedicated to one of the Childish hearts i have ever met in my life)
Was a bright wedding eve, smiling aloud was she,
One among the group of three, posing for photo near tree,
Perfect picture it was, snapping the lovely smiling face,
Ever could you gauge;
She a serene mountain, with shielded volcano inside
Like colorful rainbow, smiling bright
After the rain tears of previous night
With swirling commotions within
And hidden emotions in stale expressions,
Never will you gauge
Do understand she too a human being
Contradicting Bryons lines
A mind (not) at peace with all below
(Yet) a heart whose love is innocent...
(Dedicated to one of the Childish hearts i have ever met in my life)
Emotions of a girl (Based on a true incident)
Listen! It is my habit that in my poems I try to convey a message, but would remove certain words so that the reader can attach himself with the poem and figure out his own meaning…
Means, I like giving the food in half baked condition and let the reader to decide on the final recipe and this is exactly the reason why I expect replies.
Shielded volcano - Script ( Check out the poem first)
Shielded Volcano is about a girl, who is at her friends wedding. This girl is in love with a boy, who also happens to come to that marriage.
The boy is not reciprocating the girls love. It is a wedding reception, and all the friends get together for a photo, snapping the girl, her lover and another friend…..The picture is perfect, with she smiling aloud, appearing as though she is happy. But she is not expressing her expectations or her hidden love. She is at pains yet smiling. Her pains not captured in the photo
Colorful rainbow appears only after heavy rains. So, too is that smile of hers, though colorful and bright, nobody understands her tears before that….neither is that boy…
So much confusions and hidden emotions, never you can assess in her stale emotions, because she wants her friends to be happy and not to spoil the party.
She is a calm and peaceful mountain (as she appears in the photo), but with shielded volcano inside… Please understand her………
Means, I like giving the food in half baked condition and let the reader to decide on the final recipe and this is exactly the reason why I expect replies.
Shielded volcano - Script ( Check out the poem first)
Shielded Volcano is about a girl, who is at her friends wedding. This girl is in love with a boy, who also happens to come to that marriage.
The boy is not reciprocating the girls love. It is a wedding reception, and all the friends get together for a photo, snapping the girl, her lover and another friend…..The picture is perfect, with she smiling aloud, appearing as though she is happy. But she is not expressing her expectations or her hidden love. She is at pains yet smiling. Her pains not captured in the photo
Colorful rainbow appears only after heavy rains. So, too is that smile of hers, though colorful and bright, nobody understands her tears before that….neither is that boy…
So much confusions and hidden emotions, never you can assess in her stale emotions, because she wants her friends to be happy and not to spoil the party.
She is a calm and peaceful mountain (as she appears in the photo), but with shielded volcano inside… Please understand her………
my love for you is true
(To my friend thirumani in reply to his mail below)
In my orkut, there is one testimonial by my friend Rahul Solanki, who is a physically handicapped person, where he has mentioned that “Unassuming and cheerful are the two words that describe this person at the most”
He was a project trainee here in tata motors just for 3 months. So no one really cared for him, but I just offered him very little help whatever I could, whenever I had time and he was so grateful to me for that, that he wrote that testimonial for me.
But, in reality, if I try to find the truth in what he has written. I find none. For I know what I am.
Am a good actor…Smiling always………. a true scorpio….
The worst part of Scorpio is that they hurt always their loved ones….
and how can you be an exception?
Off late, have been trying really very hard to cry, sometimes, when I feel alone, but seriously I think have forgotten this art of crying.
Not able to cry, whatever I try.
And now after reading your mail, just turned my head away from the monitor, with a big smile, and stared at my colleague, sitting beside me, and he asked me “why is your eyes watered?”
Still don’t know whether they are tears, but am really emotionally shivering, neither am I happy nor in pain, but only one thing I can say….it is so divine
Half an hour back, I thought of not telling you, but it has always been this way, I thought I need to change…..
Wrote so many poems for her, never showed her…..
Wrote so many for others but never showed them; never what I write to person for whom I write…
Even I am sensitive….but will never cry…..
Will move around like a scorpio, with real stings, specially for the ones whom I love…..because that’s the way god has created me……
Still Beware! My sting really hurts; but it also means
“My love for you is true”
From: Thirumani Selvan Thirunavurkarasu [mailto:ThirumaniSelvan_T@infosys.com] Sent: Wednesday, June 27, 2007 16:03To: DEVAKUMAR HARISH [ Manager (Planning) , Pune PCBU , SMALL CAR ] Subject: RE: Men never cry (version 2- dont read the previous one, changed on request)
Dear Harish,
"Men never cry" reminded me an incident that happened during our college days ... It was in 3rd year, a day before instrumentation and control engg exam ... When u asked me to teach something, I told u that I was not in a situation to teach u. For which u replied, that I won't teach u, but will do for others. I broke into tears hearing those words. Though it looks silly to cry for such a thing. The love I had for u made me to cry.
Some "Men do cry" when they get hurt even for a silly thing by someone whom they love a lot. Many men are so sensitive when it comes to love and affection ...
Cheers,
Thirumani
In my orkut, there is one testimonial by my friend Rahul Solanki, who is a physically handicapped person, where he has mentioned that “Unassuming and cheerful are the two words that describe this person at the most”
He was a project trainee here in tata motors just for 3 months. So no one really cared for him, but I just offered him very little help whatever I could, whenever I had time and he was so grateful to me for that, that he wrote that testimonial for me.
But, in reality, if I try to find the truth in what he has written. I find none. For I know what I am.
Am a good actor…Smiling always………. a true scorpio….
The worst part of Scorpio is that they hurt always their loved ones….
and how can you be an exception?
Off late, have been trying really very hard to cry, sometimes, when I feel alone, but seriously I think have forgotten this art of crying.
Not able to cry, whatever I try.
And now after reading your mail, just turned my head away from the monitor, with a big smile, and stared at my colleague, sitting beside me, and he asked me “why is your eyes watered?”
Still don’t know whether they are tears, but am really emotionally shivering, neither am I happy nor in pain, but only one thing I can say….it is so divine
Half an hour back, I thought of not telling you, but it has always been this way, I thought I need to change…..
Wrote so many poems for her, never showed her…..
Wrote so many for others but never showed them; never what I write to person for whom I write…
Even I am sensitive….but will never cry…..
Will move around like a scorpio, with real stings, specially for the ones whom I love…..because that’s the way god has created me……
Still Beware! My sting really hurts; but it also means
“My love for you is true”
From: Thirumani Selvan Thirunavurkarasu [mailto:ThirumaniSelvan_T@infosys.com] Sent: Wednesday, June 27, 2007 16:03To: DEVAKUMAR HARISH [ Manager (Planning) , Pune PCBU , SMALL CAR ] Subject: RE: Men never cry (version 2- dont read the previous one, changed on request)
Dear Harish,
"Men never cry" reminded me an incident that happened during our college days ... It was in 3rd year, a day before instrumentation and control engg exam ... When u asked me to teach something, I told u that I was not in a situation to teach u. For which u replied, that I won't teach u, but will do for others. I broke into tears hearing those words. Though it looks silly to cry for such a thing. The love I had for u made me to cry.
Some "Men do cry" when they get hurt even for a silly thing by someone whom they love a lot. Many men are so sensitive when it comes to love and affection ...
Cheers,
Thirumani
Men never cry
Men never cry
Two years back, I wrote an article about the generation gap, which luckily got published in Voice your views column in ‘The Hindu’, where I wrote that I drew immense inspiration listening to the bed time stories of my grandfather about his life struggles and pain he endured, which helps me to face the harsh realities of life today, which today’s kids are missing badly, for they are glued to their virtual world of computers and sorely miss such beautiful relationships.
Just two weeks later, my grandfather passed away. I don’t know whether it is mere coincidence in life that it happened that way that he passed away, after reading the article written by his grandson. But, when I arrived to mourn his death at his place, more than his death, the article was more talked about, much against my wishes. But learnt from my grandmother that he was so happy reading it, when she cried hugging me.
I wanted to cry that day, but never dropped a single drop of tears from my eyes. Sometimes, I wonder how tears too can betray you in Life.
But was a very proud grandson, remembering my grandfather’s words
“Men never cry”
Two years back, I wrote an article about the generation gap, which luckily got published in Voice your views column in ‘The Hindu’, where I wrote that I drew immense inspiration listening to the bed time stories of my grandfather about his life struggles and pain he endured, which helps me to face the harsh realities of life today, which today’s kids are missing badly, for they are glued to their virtual world of computers and sorely miss such beautiful relationships.
Just two weeks later, my grandfather passed away. I don’t know whether it is mere coincidence in life that it happened that way that he passed away, after reading the article written by his grandson. But, when I arrived to mourn his death at his place, more than his death, the article was more talked about, much against my wishes. But learnt from my grandmother that he was so happy reading it, when she cried hugging me.
I wanted to cry that day, but never dropped a single drop of tears from my eyes. Sometimes, I wonder how tears too can betray you in Life.
But was a very proud grandson, remembering my grandfather’s words
“Men never cry”
Destiny of God
Hai friends,
Please read the note following this poetry. Very important.
Destiny of God
I wished I was the God one day,
With thousands traveling all the way
And just follow what I say
With all powers to exercise control
And me always on the patrol
Looking for those who hide
And help those seek solace by my side
And wondered at the immense pride
I carry being the God!
Alas, it did come true
Me, granted the boon of ruling the infinity too,
With Eyes wide open to brutal cruelties,
Shoulders burdened with responsibilities,
Decisions to take with all complexities,
Expectations to serve without disparities,
Curses I take for no fault of mine,
With no time for thousands who throng my shrine
Neither do they listen to what I preach,
Fighting in my name, just opposite to what I teach
Neither Am I able to curse
For they happen to be my kids
Whom shall I now for call for help
Oh God! “Oh God, Never will I
think of getting into your shoes,
Very very happy sharing with you my woes”
Note : After writing this piece of work, I showed this to my colleague Satya (who also happens to be in this group) & sought his comments. “The last paragraph was funny” he told.
The poetry was meant to be serious, to set in some serious thought process, but it always happens with me that whatever I intend seriously, finally ends up as a huge comedy. And this destiny of god, is no exception.
But the actual objective of whole is to answer one question of mine, which is lingering for quite sometime now in my depths of heart…
Two statements prevail, in which I find some truth… “ One who never rides a horse, never falls” is a famous quote. One who never takes up responsibilities never gets hurt.
Success mantras of top managers in most organization ( read recently)
Before executing any job
A – Avoid
B – By pass
C – Confuse
D – Delay
And finally, if u fail, please execute the job…. ( Pure definition of delegation)
The question is this “We have shyed away from responsibilities, several times, when we could have helped somebody, due to selfish intentions. Are we (hope I can include you too) not accountable for this at the end of the day?
Hope, I am asking this question to right group, which has one married senior manager, still single software whiz kid, two tata damagers, and two promising young women…
Waiting for your reply though I know it is a Monday morning.
Best regards,
Harish devakumar
Please read the note following this poetry. Very important.
Destiny of God
I wished I was the God one day,
With thousands traveling all the way
And just follow what I say
With all powers to exercise control
And me always on the patrol
Looking for those who hide
And help those seek solace by my side
And wondered at the immense pride
I carry being the God!
Alas, it did come true
Me, granted the boon of ruling the infinity too,
With Eyes wide open to brutal cruelties,
Shoulders burdened with responsibilities,
Decisions to take with all complexities,
Expectations to serve without disparities,
Curses I take for no fault of mine,
With no time for thousands who throng my shrine
Neither do they listen to what I preach,
Fighting in my name, just opposite to what I teach
Neither Am I able to curse
For they happen to be my kids
Whom shall I now for call for help
Oh God! “Oh God, Never will I
think of getting into your shoes,
Very very happy sharing with you my woes”
Note : After writing this piece of work, I showed this to my colleague Satya (who also happens to be in this group) & sought his comments. “The last paragraph was funny” he told.
The poetry was meant to be serious, to set in some serious thought process, but it always happens with me that whatever I intend seriously, finally ends up as a huge comedy. And this destiny of god, is no exception.
But the actual objective of whole is to answer one question of mine, which is lingering for quite sometime now in my depths of heart…
Two statements prevail, in which I find some truth… “ One who never rides a horse, never falls” is a famous quote. One who never takes up responsibilities never gets hurt.
Success mantras of top managers in most organization ( read recently)
Before executing any job
A – Avoid
B – By pass
C – Confuse
D – Delay
And finally, if u fail, please execute the job…. ( Pure definition of delegation)
The question is this “We have shyed away from responsibilities, several times, when we could have helped somebody, due to selfish intentions. Are we (hope I can include you too) not accountable for this at the end of the day?
Hope, I am asking this question to right group, which has one married senior manager, still single software whiz kid, two tata damagers, and two promising young women…
Waiting for your reply though I know it is a Monday morning.
Best regards,
Harish devakumar
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