Whom To Call?

The weather is cold. The snow has started to fall. it is ice cold externally.


Rajan sat on the couch. his head was splitting with pain. He wanted to have a cup of coffee. "Manju" , he called. Getting no reply, he looked around and was about to call again, the door opened, In came  Jane .
 She was not in her usual mood. She threw herself beside him. When he attempted to open the conversation she flew back with rage. She shouted calling him names. She alleged that it was because of him that she was fired by her superiors. Rajan was already down and Jane's rage added fuel to the fire. He spat back at her. Ugly scenes  followed. Each one accusing and engaging in tantrums. Jane finally got into the bedroom and slammed the door. Rajan burst into tears. His mind unnecessarily  went back to his lovely home. Manju's smile haunted him.

He lay there in the couch for long. Jane did not open the door. She lay there after consuming a peg of whisky. She forgot the world around her. She forgot Rajan and the way she behaved with him. She slept the whole night peacefully.

In the morning, Rajan woke up. He was sore and deeply hurt. He had a quick bath and went out into the town to have his breakfast. Then he walked into his office with head bowed down.  his friends gave a warm smile. A few of them were aware of his disastrous move. They did not break open the topic but talked among themselves. They could assess his situation. " What , a fool, he is. He had a such a beautiful family . He has  foolishly left them believing in this woman". Rajan could understand but he kept quiet.

His senior called him and said the work load is very heavy and Rajan has to work an hour more to clear them . Rajan could not say no to him . he just nodded his head and returned to his seat. Back in his work , he saw the load lying in front of him. Normally he would clear any number of papers in no time. But today he was down with regret and self pity. His head was nagging and he had not had a proper meal these five days. he felt weak and exhausted. He tried to concentrate but could not . By noon he was taken up by fatigue, he  slumped on his chair and  lay unconscious for a while.His colleagues rushed to him and took him to the nearby hospital. The y did not whom to call, Manju or Jane.

The afternoon weather was not reliable . The winds swept heavy . 

The Switch Over.

The breeze is gentle. The sun has set in. The time is 4 in the evening.

Manju could hear the gate open. Ramu and Sudha had come from school. Beforethey could ring the door bell she rushed out to greet them. Sudha was overjoyed to see her mother. She threw her bags and threw  her shoes came rushing towards her mother. Manju caught hold of the child and lifted her up. Ramu , the elder of the two, was composed. He entered the hall , smiled at his mother and went over to change his dress. Sudha kissed her mother so many times that Manju's face became wet.
Manju  changed Sudha's clothes , washed her  and tied up her hair into a knot . She looked so cute like a doll.

Manju and the children had their meals together . The one chair remained vacant. Sudha looked at it twice and said , "' daddy has gone. I miss him very much.''  Her eyes became moist . Ramu bit his lips to control his whimper , took hold of Sudha's tiny hand  and smothered it with a loving kiss. Manju , turned her back pretending she was busy with  some preparation.  The  situation eased soon as Manju gave them all the delicious items she had prepared for them. The children relished the food.

Soon they retired to the living room. Manju doing her office work she missed out. and the children reading through the day's work at school.  Ramu  was an excellent student  and was a topper. he was in the bright student category and a way ahead of the regular students. So was Sudha in her class. Manju faced no issues regarding their academic   pursuits. They were  brilliant kids.

The house slowly would fall into the system. The one member , who had gone out on his own, would create a disturbance both physically and mentally but that would disappear as time passes. his loss would be their gain. it is their absence that is going to create a mess in his life. Rajan has made an expensive mistake.Well, that is what is destiny.

The night has grown dark. The stars were shining beautifully from the sky.

A New Leaf.

The day is bright. The temperature has shot up. The day is warm  unusual at this time of the year.

  Manju lay in the couch for long. She knew not how long. her mind still in Madurai. The beautiful relation her parents had, the way revealed their love, the subtle but affectionate overtures all filled up her mind. Her mother never showed any feelings. She went about with a smile that was unconquerable. The ups and downs in her life did not catch up with her temper. She was an epitome of beauty both external and internal.

her father was such a kind hearted man. he could not sit quietly for a moment. he was always busy with his work, with his duties and with his parayanas. He quoted invariably from the slokas, and from Thiruvasagam. he was a successful entrepreneur. He made good money. He was never after it. he spent a lot of time with his famil. Not that he took them out, not that he took them to see places but was with them in the evenings. he played with them, joked with them  and was their guide all throughout.His wife was the backbone.She was there for the family at times of need and at times of happiness. Dressed modestly and well learned  she taught her children music which sharpened their intellect and made them wiser. Every day  during Margalt (thanur masam) she made Manju sing the Thiruvembavai pasurams. The belief still runs through. If a girl sings it with devotion  she would get a handsome, dedicated husband. Manju sang them in all earnestness. Rajan was a good husband, very understanding and  nice. Manju could not hold back her tears. She mumbled, "amma. amma,"' calling her loving mother.

It was going to be 3 in the afternoon. Manju had to be up as the children would come back from school. She decided. "No more of crying, no more of recollections. She has to face   bravely whatever be the consequences. her children should get the best of everything in life, not as a matter, the luxuries but the necessities."  her professional progress was exemplary. if only she addressed it with far more seriousness from this day, she would achieve a revenue  in millions.

She went into her room, combed her hair and washed her face.Draped in a saree, which Ramu likes, she came out a changed Manju.  Knowing her children would return hungry  she prepared a sumptuous meal for them with all the South Indian delicacies in a row. The Payasam was Sudha's favourite. She did it with extra care.

Manju now has turned a new leaf. Her smile the winning one adorned her face.

 The sun  entered the  living room. it was gleaming and radiant . It came right into the kitchen .

Madurai -- The Historic City.

It is dawn.The sky is clear. The clouds have receded. There is no sign of rain.It would be a bright sunny day says the weather forecast.

Manju slept for long. The alarm bell, as usual, rang at 5.30 in the morning.  Manju was too lazy to get up .her head was aching.  The thought of staying back from office. But she has to send the children to school
 Reluctantly got up from the bed. After a quick shower,  she went into the kitchen. While preparing the breakfast which was not elaborate, oats and milk, she absent-mindedly  left the oven burn for a while. The rice in the cooker would have burnt, if not for Ramu, who came out  and called ", mama." something is about to burn". Manju did not respond. She was lost in a reverie. Ramu with the presence of mind switched off the oven. He went near his mother. He shook her with shivering hands. Manju got up and looked around. It took a moment for her to realise  the situation. She saw Ramu  staring at her. Resuming her smile, she said, "Oh1 Ramu, I am sorry". She became busy once again. The lunch was packed.  Sudha came out dressed for school. Ramu was also ready. The three of them had their porridge. Sudha,  the talkative of the two,   saw the lunch boxes. She cried"Mummy" why have you packed four, we need only three, hereafter, Remember, daddy has left us".  Manju and Ramu looked at each other with an uneasiness. Well, that is the  truth. it is always bitter.

The children had left for school. Manju was the one at home. If she stayed back she would have the  day for herself. She would do nothing but think of the past. If  she went to the office she would not be able to concentrate, would  be distracted. She needed rest very badly. To neutralise her mind and body she had to sleep. She called her colleague in the office and expressed her inability to attend office.

She sat on the couch. Her mind went back to the good old days. Her days of school. The images came one after another. As a toddler, she was pampered by her father. She used to carry her wherever he went. tell his friends, "she is my princess. I adore her." She was adorable. With a lovely complexion and aquiline features, eyes bubbling with life and cheer. it was the smile now and then which won all the hearts. her brother a few years older to her also cherished her like a treasure. It was only her mother who  felt she was being spoilt. She, on and  off, scolded her for being careless.  She made her do the homework regularly.  She taught her Carnatic music and made her sing every day in the morning. The sarali varsai and the janda varsai were her daily breath. She would forget to take  her breakfast but not forget the sathagam or practise. A teacher of merit came when Manju had learnt the rudiments of music from her mother. He gave her instructions on the higher. The varnams, javalis and keerthanas. Manju turned out to be a proficient singer. She won many prizes in the contests held at school and college. Her mother also made her learn Bharathanatyam. Manju excelled in it. She had a penchant for dancing. She was great in performing the adavus and showed grace when it came to bhava.  Manju received proficient awards in  school and college.

 Her city Madurai was an ancient one.  where the Tamil Sangam flourished. It was in the banks of the River Vaigai. As every civilisation had its birth in a river bed, Vaigai had a  great historical background. The Pandiya  Kingdom and later the Nayakas ruled  the city and the surrounding places with Madurai as their capital. It rose in fame and thrived in trade. The Kings went as far as Sri Lanka  and the far east.   music and Tamil were the eyes of the Kings. They honoured musicians and Tamil scholars, patronised them and the world famous Thirukkural was staged and delivered in Madurai.
The city never sleeps and never a day goes without a festival. It is the culture that holds all breathless. The fascination centres around knowledge and  not on  money. Till today, the city has no big manufacturing units, no corporate offices,  no software companies  to boast of. It has its own small shops, small scale industrial units and a few big malls. The apartment culture is slowly picking up.  Otherwise, we could see houses either in clusters or in a way little apart  and mostly individual ones big and small.The city has maintained its prestige with one temple which speaks history, geography and science being the  beautiful Meenakshi Amman Temple.  The only one being the best on, being a wonder, talks of  architecture and divinity.

It is a marvel. it is a feast to the eyes. it is a bliss. it is heavenly. I could go on words would  not be adequate to describe the beauty.  Eyes would devour the images, the sculptures, the ethnic pillars and the murals all resplendent of the Pandiyan and Nayaks techniques. More and above the thrill, the enthrall, the exaltation you feel once you enter the temple is ubiquitous . each speak volumes. Each depicts the nuances and derelictions of   the skill of the artisans.

Manjula  had gone some twenty odd  years back  when she was a ten-year-old.  her mind was rejuvenated her heart became light and she wanted to sing.
 She  sang to herself first, then came out with full-throated ease, the Thiagarajar keerthana "" Nithi sala sugama" in Raga Kalyani. She sang the song with such devotion, that her pains started to diffuse and she felt as though she was flying in the air.

The weather was even. The forceful winds have gone away. The breeze blew with little noise and kissed Manju's face.  They seemed to say, "Do not worry, I am here for you."

Silence --- Deadly Silence.

The darkness got dense. The stars have retreated. It was a new moon day and the intensity of the darkness was  enormously felt.

Ramu was the first to get to his bed. The boy fairly old to understand the grimness and  not  as old to compromise to the situation throws himself into the bed. The cozy bed took him into its fold. He  is disturbed. What would be his future? His mother is making enough money. How would she be able to make both ends meet?  Thoughts crowd his mind. Soon sleep overtook him.

Sudha, on the other hand, was lying on her mother's lap. The girl too young to know what was going around  slept peacefully holding her mother's hand. Manju sat there frozen. She did not note the time . It was half past midnight. She gently lifted the girl and placed her in the bed. She kissed the child in her forehead. Without making noise, she walked away to her room.

Again alone in her room shared with Rajan for over fifteen years, she felt lost. memories flooded her mind. The happy days of her marriage during the earlier years where love was outbid by pleasure, that of the body than of the soul. The overtures, the caress, the fondling and the consummation all came to her mind in a slide show. The years after Ramu was born brought ina joy different. Now, it was one not os passion but of understanding, of responsibility and the closeness accounted to the soul not to the flesh anymore. Sudha was born not out of lust but out of intimate love. This part was the most beautiful in their married life. The give and take, the touch and not touch, the eye contacts and the silence added charm,brought colour to the lovely days. She cried  and sobbed. To whom she could pour out her feelings? Her mother was dead. her father was too old to bear the shock. Her brother was the only one to whom she could confide. Sleep waits for no man. She dozed off quietly.

The night has grown cold. The winds have subsided. There was silence, deadly silence

The Stars Twinkle.

The rains  have retreated, There is life everywhere.The city bustles with activity. The three-day spell has dislocated the activities.

Ramu and Sudha returned home after the school. Sudha  rushed to the door and pushed it open. Ramu followed her in measured steps. Sudha cried in horror, "Ramu, Dad's shoes are missing, his hat is not to be seen and his overcoat has disappeared."Ramu was silent. The little one could not wait for an answer. She shook her brother violently. "Where has dad gone?".The brother took the sister's hand held it for a while and embraced the little one so fondly. Well, a brother assumes the role of the father all too young.Sudha broke down and wailed "Daddy, daddy". Ramu unable to control himself broke down and cried inconsolably.We have to support mother as she is the only parent we have".Sudha nodded her head. She having half understood, accepted that her loving daddy has left home for good.
The children heard their mother's car on the drive. They rushed to the bathrooms, washed and  changed the school dress and came out fresh to greet Manju.

Manju entered with her trademark smile. She, at first sight, noticed  the difference. Rajan had packed his bags.  Her face turned sullen. Not to let herself down before the children she went into her bedroom locked the door and burst into tears.The room looked void without Rajan's belongings. The way it is going to be hereafter.Soon she gathered herself. Took a quick shower, lightly made up her face and wore her favourite saree, plaited her hair and came out  with a smile broad and brilliant.

She walked into the kitchen. Busily prepared coffee for her and hot chocolate for the kids. With the cups on the tray, she went out to the garden.The children followed her. Sipping her hot coffee, she told them  in a practical voice. "daddy has found a new life. he is with his new wife.  He offered to fund your education, I refused. I do not find any anomaly in his behaviour. Everyone has a right on his own life. Daddy wanted a new woman, perhaps he was bored with me.
He is now gone. He has left us forever. Let us wish him well and pray for his well-being. he had been a loving father to you, a doting husband to me. All the four of us had a good time. Now we are three. let us share our life with one less. It would mean a huge difference. It would connote a great inconvenience. We have to cope with it. I am here for you. " She pulled her children close to her. Tears rolled down her cheeks. It wetted the children's cheeks too.

They went inside.  Had a quick dinner. Rajan's chair remained unoccupied. It is going to be empty hereafter.
The night was still and dark. The stars twinkled from afar. Could it be a signal, a premonition that their life would also twinkle and shine?

A New Phase Of Life,

The  rains poured not much. The mild rain proved to be a solace. The weather was good,  bright and sunny.

Rajan was in heaven. He lay close to Jane. he caressed her, smothered her with kisses and jane was in a state of bliss. They forgot the time, the food and their responsibilities. It was lust. 

Flesh is a temptation. Man can resist. Man can overcome. Man would  if he is firm and principled.

Rajan was fickle minded and he has succumbed to the animal pleasure. Jane was no better. She seduced him, tempted him, cajoled him all through the night and day. Both  were lost in sensuality.They absented from work, They were locked with each other. It could be for a while. It could not continue forever. Rajan and Jane were not in their teens. They were not adults but middle aged and had raised a family. They have fallen from grace.

Days passed  without any event. Rajan received a notice from his office  asking him to report for work at once and tender an explanation for his absence. Jane  was also warned by her chief. If she attends the office at once she ould be given a grace period to correct herself and continue. If not she would be sacked.

Rajan could not come to reality. He was very much into lovemaking. He tossed the notice  which fell into the bin. he cuddled close to Jane, fondled her  and diffused himself in the pleasure. Jane  was also into it though half minded. She was not very easy. The fright of losing the job brought her to reality. She pushed Rajan aside and got up. Rajan sensed rejection for the first time.he approached her again and pulled her to him. She angrily pushed him down and  dressed her up quickly. She made up her face lightly and walked away leaving Rajan.

Rajan was fuming. Repulsion was not his cup of tea. His mind went back to the early days of his marriage to Manju. How lovingly she made him understand the value of time, how gently she left him and how softly she coaxed him to get back to serious work. A mountain of difference, Rajan mumbled. He switched on the Television.He saw a programme which  was a talk with the main topic being  a break in marriages. His heart raced. He  switched off the Television and took a stroll in the garden.

The garden was quiet and calm. It appeared fresh after the rains.Rajan exhausted and tired after indulgence  was an antithesis to the serenity seen in nature. Excess of anything results in a damage ends up in a despair. A new phase of life  begins.

 

The Gates Close.

The rains continue to lash. There is a warning of floods. People are cautioned and asked not to venture out. The schools are closed.

Manju stays at home. Her children return hurriedly from school. Rajan lies in the couch. The world goes on in its own pace. The Rajan's are in a dilemma. Manjula has taken the pie with a salt. Rajan is still in two minds. The children talk in hushed tones.

Manju gets busy with her work. Ramu and Sudha retreat to their rooms. Rajan is groping at the dark.
It is noon  and lunchtime. Manju calls the children. They have their lunch mechanically. Rajan lies looking at them.

The rains have stopped for a time being. The children walk into the garden. Manjula accompanies them. They sit on the garden bench. Manju takes their hands, holds for a while. She looks at them with love .tears well up. She controls herself and tells the children of their  father's decision. He would soon move out. She would take care of them.Now she is both their mother and father. never at any time show your displeasure to Rajan. He is already sad. Certain things happen. They are beyond one's control. "Acceptance is bliss. I have accepted with a fortitude. I want your father to be happy."
So saying, she wiped her tears and walked back home. Ramu and Sudha broke down. They cried. Sudha, the loveliest girl was not able to come to terms. She slid on her brother's arms. Ramu eleven-year-old boy shouldered his sister. He has to be her protector all along. They got up and went back.

Meantime Rajan was up.  he tidied  himself, had a quick shower and moved  bidding farewell to none.The household has reconciled to the new  status.

The next day, as usual the children left for school. Manju prepared the morning coffee for Rajan and the breakfast on the table. As a lot of work was pending in her office, she jumped into her car and drove off. Rajan woke up to see the house empty. His heart was aching. He got up slowly,  warmed his coffee and got ready to move out. he saw the breakfast on the table. His mind went back to the days not very far  when the whole family had a happy breakfast talking and joking, teasing and sharing. He reluctantly gobbled his food. Then went to the bedroom which he shared with Manju.
Again the past incidents rushed back. The intimate moments, the love he made to his wife, the response from her all came as if in a slide show. At that moment, he happened to see a note below the table lamp. Manju had written asking his intention. The house belongs to both of them. If he wishes to live there she would go out with the children but he has to pay her share. If it is the other way round she would repay with the bank interest.  Rajan was shaken at the way Manju was reacting. What a woman she is! he exclaimed. The quick of time he received a call from Jane. He melted thoroughly. The white skin, the blonde hair and the histrionics she displayed  fascinated him. He shared amorous kisses over the phone and quickly packed his bags leaving not a single thing at home. he wrote a note to Manju that he is leaving the house. The house is hers and about the money let her take the call.

He could hear jane honking at the door. he swiftly got his luggage into the car. Off he went with his paramour leaving his lovely wife and beautiful children.

The rains which had been away for a day came back again. The gates Of Manju's house closed themselves. 

The Door Is Closed,

It is raining. The streets are flooded.The rains are not heavy very light but drizzling throughout the day.The sun plays hide and seek. It comes and disappears as and when it liked.

Manjula is busy with her household chores. The morning usually is hectic for her. She has to pack the lunch for her children Ramu and Sudha. Rajan, her husband, would help her but not to the maximum. The male chauvinism creeps up on and off. he does a little and does not do the maximum, leaving Manju to attend to all at a time.

Manjula  is a genial person.  A smile is her asset. She gets up in the morning with a big smile and smiles all throughout the da. The smile varies in degrees  in proportion with her nature of work  and time.She goes to bed with a weak smile that reflects her exhaustion.

She is a qualified accountant having completed her CPA in one stroke and with honours. She is a much in demand auditor and her firm is into auditing companies which have a turnover of billions.
 Her husband is  a software engineer and doing very well in his career. As of all, everything is in a balanced plane  except for time and work. Time ticks so quickly, even the capable Manju could never cope with it. So is the work so compelling that the ever active Manju at times loses track.

Being in an alien land with none of the kith and kin around Manju and Rajan live in peace.
The way they adjust and interact is really a game of trick. Manjula is the winner at any time.For an anecdote of happiness,  there would always be an antidote. The wind, strikes the family  in the guise of Jane. She works with Rajan  and unknowingly Rajan has been attracted toward this blonde. Rajan falls for her in the course of time and slowly turns indifferent to Manjula. She  did not notice the difference at first. She thought that is due to some extra work Rajan is worked up. She goes on running the family as before unmindful and unknowing of the storm that is about to strike her.

In a year, Rajan  became an alien to his own family. Ramu and Sudha saw a little of him. The young minds kept nagging their mother about their father's absence. Manjula woke up to the reality. She asked Rajan what is bothering him. Rajan shirked his shoulders and answered curtly that he has an  affair with Jane. Manju got the shock of her life.
 She did not lose her equanimity and politely put forth, "What are your plans?".Rajan could not believe his eyes. He expected a turbulence, but now he is seeing a smooth sail.he grew panicky and mumbled some words which were inaudible. Manjula came directly to the point. "Tell me your next step so that I could prepare myself," Rajan said that he is going to apply for a divorce and would be liberal in granting a huge alimony  to her and a corpus to bring up the children.

Manjula looked at him intently for a moment. She said that she has enough earnings to look after her. The children are her loveliest possessions. She firmly replied, "I do not need a single cent from you. Bring the papers, I would immediately sign the papers. I do not want to delay as I do not want to share my life with another woman. " That is it .So saying she walked out of the room leaving Rajan confused.

Rajan was lost in a reverie. had he been harsh? had he been reckless/ How would his life be with Jane. Would it be as smooth as it was with Manju. Would he miss his children?.
Manju has closed the door. The rains are falling now with a force.

Bound By The Destiny

Living in  two countries is quite difficult. You feel sad.You do not belong to any place. A few months here and a few months here  gives you a sense of belonging nowhere. The continuity is lost. Your schedule changes.

This has been my way of life for the past seven to eight years. A few months in India  is the most  welcome for me.
 The place is so much familiar  and I have my set of people to work and take care. it is enjoyable though at times a test to my temper. The environment is so cosy and comfortable. The house has been there for more than thirty years. It is a more of a home, a lovely place to reside.

The other home I have now is in Malaysia. it is a small country with three  races living, the Malays, the Indians and the Chinese. it is a melting pot and either the Indians or the Chinese bear any sort of semblance to the natives of their mother country. it is a mixed culture. Right from food to dress and speech there is no chastity as such  it is a mixture, a confusion as such. I am a fish out of after here, not able to mingle with the locals. Tradition and conservatism are  the ways  in which I was brought up. Malaysia is truly not a society where you  could find a bit of these two aspects.This makes me feel strange in this society. I keep myself to myself.

Life has to go on and

so does mine. I am helpless as I am bound by the destiny.

A Writer Humiliated.

I know a writer  who writes extremely well in English which is not her mother tongue. She has mastered the language perfectly. Her grammar is extraordinarily good, her structure and punctuation are excellent. Yet she  is criticised. They comment on her writing and advice her to write in her own language. They call her sentences are only English words and have no meaning. She is open to criticism. She knows her strength and never stops from writing.

Criticism should be healthy. It.should never hurt. There are ways to point out the defects. No one is above faults. Those who condemn others should first be aware of their own shortcomings. See yourself then remark. 

Words turn critical. The context and the timing should be considered. Just talking like that without any basics hurt  and tear the heart.

 It is strictly painful. The moment she read the comments she was shaken, depressed  and wounded. She felt humiliated.

It took a few hours for her to gather herself and go with a vengeance. She referred to the laurels she had achieved,  the awards she had been granted and the admiration she has won.Those helped her to come back and now she has resumed her writing. Hope she fares well.

Superstition---- Could It Be?

Superstition is one I do not believe. Stories abound about people deploying witchcraft to spoil the other's growth. Black magic is one such. The sorceress prays to the demons and gives a locket or an amulet that is to be tied on the wrist.to ward off the evil influence. I suspend such ramblings.

Yesterday, a friend of mine dwelt deep on this subject. However much I tried to divert her she went again and again to the theme of witches and their bad actions. She met a man who is a devotee of Kali. The man has been praying to the Goddess for years. It is from his father or precisely from the forefathers he acquired the knowledge.

A week back she along with her relatives went to meet him at his house. She bought flowers fruits and garlands. As she entered the house she saw the man praying before the Goddess.She and her relatives placed the offerings before the Goddess and paid their obeisance to the man.

The relatives after a brief introduction confided to him their grievances.They wanted to know when would their son get married. he said by June the marriage would be fixed and in November the wedding would take place. Satisfied, they came out with a very important query that o when would their property(inherited) be divided. The brother,

mean the eldest one in the family holds control.

The Godman transformed into karuppar, the family deity of the questioner. His eyes became red and popped out from the socket. His tongue came out and he stamped his foot on the ground. It echoed and bellowed. The God-man shouted saying bring a big sickle to me at my altar. By July, your brother would be forced to divide the properties and you would get your share. So saying he fell on the ground. They sprinkled water on his face and he got up looking his self.

I was spellbound when she narrated the episode. Could it be?  Could it not be?

The Goddess Walked With her.

Received a call from overseas. A friend who had gone on a pilgrimage to a temple in South India
  talked about her experience. She had walked nearly 150 kilometers along with hundreds of men and women belonging to her community.She had come to India from New York to fulfill her long time prarthana.

She narrated the experience in detail and with such eloquence that I heard her in rapt attention. She started with great enthusiasm. She walked with her fellow walkers and kept pace with them in the initial stages. The road was pretty bad and the rains have made it marshy and messy. The pebbles and small stones that lay on the road hurt her feet and she had so much pain that at a stage could take a step further. The two girls who accompanied her could not stay back with her as they had to cover the distance in a specific time. They went ahead while she dragged behind. At this juncture, a lady came from somewhere.
 She was dark, but her eyes were so bright  She had a big bhindi on her forehead. She was dark but at the same time she commanded respect. She came near my friend and goaded her to proceed. My friend was

tired and felt very weak. The lady said "you come with me, I will take you to the temple ". Zo the journey went on. My friend walked with pain all along but reached the destination somehow or other. The lady took her to the final point, lead her into the temple, took her to the sanctum sanatorium. She ordered my friend to fall prostrate before the Goddess and blessed her saying that all her wish, the particular wish she had while she walked all the way would be fulfilled within three months. My friend was elated and exhilarated. She told me it was none other the Goddess who accompanied her all throughout. Her wish should become a reality as the lady had blessed.  I was shaken and though of the Almighty's power. Hope my friend should accomplish the task and her desire should be realized.
God bless her!

His Way Of Writing

Writing is an art. it should be with a flow. One should go with the words. Not sit up and look confused and then go on with a reading which is a strain and which would be uninteresting.

A man who made little of his education in his young years started to write letters and notes to his business partners and his staff with words very difficult to understand. he used to refer the dictionary for simple words, look into the synonyms and use them without knowing that he is killing the art.


His father a knowledgeable man used to laugh at him and say this is no way a good writing. He asked him to use simple words which conveyed the meaning. His advice fell into deaf ears as the man felt his father was discouraging him.

This man believes that he is an authority in the language and goes about with his high-flown usage. His talk also corresponds to his write.

This man has crossed his sixties and still speaks bombastic, talks most unrealistic and writes irrelevantly.  His language is full of bumps and pits,

hard to meander through.

The Mother's Day.

It was Mother's Day, yesterday 10/May/2015. The Television was going ga-ga. I could hear children wishing their moms Happy Mothers Day.

It is an amusement to me. Mother 's Day has picked momentum in this decade. great to remember your mother. greater still to wish her. Greatest is the gift you give her. be it am expensive one or a token, the thought that goes with it is noble and at the same time beautiful.

Mothers should be remembered every day. She bears the child for ten months. She carries the child in her womb, sacrifices her pleasure, lives, eats and thinks of the child all through these months. The day she gives birth to the child is the most laborious and the process is rightly called as labour.
She wriggles, cries, twitches in pain and her whole system undergoes a change never one could imagine. The minute the child is born she forgets the struggle and the smile of the child light up her face.

The next that follows is the careful rearing of the baby. Handling itself is critical. Bathing the child feeding the little one all cause a great effort. it has to be done meticulously without any slipshod. If at all any slip is there the penalty would be great. and even cost the life of a child.

When the baby grows big problems also grow proportionately and the mother shoulders a responsibility greater than what she had when the child was within her. Without seems to be very crucial. The learning has to be monitored. The behavior has to be watched. Any wayward activity has to be curtails then and there. A close watch of the friends circle should take the prime spot.To grow a baby into a boy,

the mother has to be careful. To make a boy into a man the mother has to be extra caring and watchful. here eyes should hold alert.  Once the stage of man is reached then the possibilities of going astray would become limited.

Every day is a Mother's Day. Not a day passes for the child peacefully without a mother. So could be aid of all as we are all children of the Divine Mother.

The Bad Hearted Man

It is incredible. Man is an animal, a social animal. His behaviour at times is unbelievable.

A man in his late sixties had all along nurtured an animosity against his brother more so against the brother's family. What for is the question? and is what I am going to talk about.

Well, this man was born with certain deformities. His voice is cracked and he has a nervous disability well expressed in his action of the neck. he does such a quixotic moves with his neck and it looks awkward. This man is not intelligent too. I do not mean that he is like Solomon the wise, but could not master the basic in learning. His brother, on the other hand, has charming looks and is again not very brilliant but an average student in his school and college. He managed to pass without difficulty. Never once, he came in flying colours. Perhaps it is the destiny of the family where learning is difficult.This is one of the cause or could I call it a few causes for the brothers not getting on well.

The brother in question got married to an educated girl from a very well to do family while the protagonist was married to an equally retarded girl from a family of moderate means. Another valid cause for the jealousy.

As it happens the brother in the course of years begot three sons. All the three are extremely good looking

smart and are now well placed. While the other's children are not up to that level. Like father they too did not fare well in their education, through push and pull graduated. So the reasons for prejudice being well established his hostility sustains through all these years.


Right from birth to the age of 68 the man holds a grudge against his brother. At times, he crosses his place and does harm to his sibling. The family of the brother for no reason whatsoever has undergone a bad phase in life not on one occasion but on several incidents. Yet they have risen from them with more confidence and hold the torch high.


It is certain the sufferings the family underwent and the difficulties they had to face would fall upon this old man with such velocity that he would not be able to bear. His crumble and collapse  are not far.

The Weather In Malaysia ---Beyond Sustenance

It is a beautiful day. Clouds on the rise. Rains on the move with the a breeze from all directions. Such a day is a rarity in this part of the world, Malaysia,which is right on the equator.
Rains every day is the saying that goes with most equatorial regions.

Rains do come but once they stop the heat creeps in, The moisture disappears and the humidity enters again.
So having been in Malaysia for the past eight years I find it difficult to sustain in this weather. It is becoming more difficult day by day and I wish to go back to my country, which is equally hot but better in a sense, it is not so bitingly hot. The temperatures in my country are marginally higher than in Malaysia, but they are tolerable in a way, the humidity is not so obsessive.
 
As I have to stay back for the sake of business, I have to put up with this intolerable heat. My consolation is the days like today that bring great relief and respite from the heat.

Wish to have more such days in future. Hope the weather would fulfill my wish.

Mostyn Park.

Having born and lived in a place warm and sunny all throughout the years, would in my school and college days  spend a full two months, April and May in Coonoor  which would be cool all throughout the year.

Coonoor is t a town in Nilgiris District. at a height of 500 sg feet above sea level. it is in the blue mountains as Nigris is affectionately called. The town is second to Ootcamund the Queen of The Hill Stations.  Ooty, as it is called in short is rich and lovely with lot of activities. The racing takes place during April and May and a lot of film shooting takes place all through the months.

Coonoor is a quiet town where planters conglomerate and the tea estates around look like green pastures over the hills.The planters lead a relaxed life. They visit the estates in the morning. Their day starts at 7 in the morning. They go round all the divisions, oversee the plucking of tea leaves return home for lunch. After an afternoon nap, they would go for a walk or to the club to play cards, tennis. They lead a  peaceful life in a healthy environment.

it happened so, my father held considerable holdings in Coonoor. He used to visit the place as often as he could. My mother would take all the six of us to the place during the summer holidays.. We did a lot of trekking, hiking and walking round the hills. My dads' bungalow was atop a small hill overlooking the estates and it was called as Mostyn Park, When he bought the house, it was in shambles. My mother renovated it to her taste keeping in mind the esthetics.  Mostyn Park was only a park in the name. Its garden was in a bad shape. The lawn and the flower beds were in tatters. My mom drew up a plan and she along with the gardeners and supervisors laid out a beautiful garden. The lawns one square and oval with the driveways around and the flower beds along the driveway gave a magnificent look to the house. The next year, she entered the garden competition and won the best medium garden award in the whole of Nilgiris District. unfortunately, she could not receive it in person and she deputed me to receive the prize from His Excellency The Governor of Madras State.
I recall the days I spent in this lovely town. I went there continuously for 25 years. Nostalgic, to recall.  I long to see the lovely house once beforeI breathe my last.  I would see my dear mother's hands and spirit in the house she renovated with such care- the exciting Mostyn Park.

Being A granddaughter Of karumuttu Thiagarajan.

I do not own a college, nor I know anything about Engineering. My grandfather through his munificence started an engineering college way back in the 1950's. He was a philanthropist and an industrial magnet. He was addressed as Textile King by his peers when he was alive. Karumuttu Thiagarajan, as he was known in those days and even now remembered for his excellence in management, started colleges for engineering, arts and science and teachers training college in his town Madurai.

He wanted the colleges to impart first class education to the people around. When great universities in most parts of the country demanded caption fees, he was determined not to accept a single penny by way of capitation. While most colleges got unduly high amounts as bribes for an appointment of professors, lecturers and staff. He forbade his principals and correspondents not to take a single pie. That way he built up his institutions. They now speak of his disposition and thousands of students have passed out of these colleges. Many would have been dead and gone. The portals of his institutions reverberate his name and echo his voice.

As such, I am proud to be one of his granddaughters. As a girl, I used to visit him along with my mother. I stood aghast at his simplicity and his greatness both simultaneously reflected in his personality. He was o fond of my mother and used to call her the most brilliant of his children.


I had been very discreet in not letting anyone know that I am his granddaughter. Somehow it has become pronouncedly known that I am from his brood, might be the looks I would have inherited, or the mannerism I would have imbibed.


Year in and year after, I get calls from relatives and friends asking me to recommend to the management for seats. I try to shy away from them. The compassion that is within me rises up and bids me write a letter to the management for a seat for the most deserving student. The people at the helm, incidentally my uncle and his wife, consider my

inputs and are kind enough to admit a boy or a girl every year.Thanks to both of them.

Fallen Into A trap.

It is a story in a way, could be a history in a sense.

The protagonist is a lady who speaks all the time, speaks only and listens not. She talks with no validity.. This minute it could be about gold, the next second about stocks and shares and the third hour she would brag abut others finally end up with her beauty. 

Her main attribution is she is a beauty of great standards. She is fair, and has sharp features and carries herself well, is what she thinks. She forgets that beauty is in the beholder.

The lady is middle aged, say 45-50 years old. She is above average in looks. he way she dresses up shows her breed. The way she walks tells of her creed. The gait and poise are not found. Her presentation is awkward. She considers herself to be smart. She could be. Her education is basic. So is her knowledge But she speaks of economics and finance with such authority. Listening to her you could decipher her shallowness.

She makes friends easily. How? you might wonder.She smiles at them.if they turn to her she approaches them. Greets them and if they reciprocate, they would naturally, she begins her conversation. She calls them often, say 4- 5 times a day, if they do not respond, more than that. Finally, they call her. That be the trap. She ensnares them. They unknowingly fall into the trap. The calls continue.

Having moved with this lady for years now, I being ne of her prey, wish to entangle myself from her catch. Looking for the best way to come out. If you know of a way

, please call me as soon as possible.  

The Engineering Seats.

The engineering course has still a great attraction among students of my community. The software hype has created a niche and the boys and girls are crazy to pursue the course. The parents are even more penchant of this course. They burn the midnight oil, sit with their ward, make them study all through the night.

Once the results are out, everyone in the family, from the grandmother to the toddler ask the score and the percentage. The fever rises and parents go for counselling along with their ward. They see people of influence help them get seats in reputed engineering institutions.

The transactions in procuring seats are cloudy. Computers and electronics had a high demand earlier Now mechanical has surpassed the two courses. The mechanical engineering course demands one million Indian rupee while the computers and electronics a little lower.

The college heads overnight grow in stature. Their phones are switched off and their office would day they are busy. The mad rush for these courses cannot be described in woThe results have come out and the temperature is rising speedily. Know not when the mercury would burst. Well, another month of a

storm on the anvil.

Chitra Pournami ---Teluk Intan, (Chetty Festival)

It was a festival in a nearby temple. It is a Hindu one being celebrated in Malaysia. The merchants from India came to Malaysia a century and half ago to trade and do business. They settled in various places in the Malayan Peninsula and also in Singapore. They were known as Chetty. As the tradition goes, these Chetty was not allowed to bring their families to this alien land, for the community ostracised the women folk who crossed the seas. The men along came at a time when there wee no aeroplanes. They sailed for a month Brought with them money and the idols of the Gods they worshipped. The Chetty were particularly fond of Lord Muruga, who they affectionately called as Thandayathapani. This God was an unmarried one, a significance to the way Chettys lived in the Malayan peninsula

These Chetty set up shops in the busiest thoroughfare, where markets, and local offices functions. they formed themselves into groups and settled in buildings close to each other. They feared their life and wanted to live in a secure place. The business of trading brought them profit as they were just in their pricing, not very greedy.The business thrived and they made a lot of money. The locals wanted money for their business. They borrowed from these chetty who let them out for a nominal interest. Thus, the Chetty entered into the banking sector.

The Chetty now with money in hand wanted to build temples in the places where they stayed. They got the permission from the local authorities and with the money they had saved built the temples in 18 places in the whole of Malaysia. They contributed liberally to the upkeep of the temple, never took any money from outsiders or Government.

The chetty wanted to meet each other. of the community. To facilitate this, they initiated the festivals on auspicious days of every month. That being the most important is the Thaipossasm celebrated in the month of January or early February.The other months too had auspicious dates and each one temple was associated with the days when the celebrations were held.


The month of Chitra  (mid-April -mid-May) has a favourite day the Chitra pournami when the moon is at the full crescent. This day is the most favourite of Lord Muruga and this small town  Teluk Intan in Perak goes haywire during this day. The Hindus gather in thousands and offer prayers to God.They come in different costumes, take kavadis, pal kudams, and revel and enjoy the whole week. It is an experience in itself.
The quiet little town becomes noisy once a year.

.

I, Then And Now.

I become overwhelmed when I see unhappiness around me.If anyone cries, be it a child while it is hungry  or an adult because of his failures, might be also the aged when they suffer in solitude, I break down and tears flow down my cheeks. Not that I am emotional, but I am moved by such sadness to the core. This was How I had been all these years.

Now I have changed for the better or worse I do not know. The events in my life, the disappointments and the uncertainties I faced have wiped the tears from my eyes. They have become dry and shed I, not a tear even when I hurt myself or slip with my already hurt joints. My joints split and cry with pain. I remain stoic all throughout. No tears anymore. Rather tears do not secrete.

This being the condition recent, I am called heartless and I do not have sympathy. I bother not for the people's says as they brag and brag the whole time about others mind not their own piquancyThe talk behind and the remarks you hear would bring down your spirits.That is the way they want and target their words at you with a sly taunt and stealthy wit. Do not turn your eyes.  Go straight ahead.Ignore their meaningless jibes. Get actress with a  decisive will. You are sure to succeed.

Unity Is Strength.

It is a photo shoot. the seven siblings had gathered for a festival. Each one is in his sixties.Some in early others in late sixties. Three females and four males are meeting after a long time. They had met not altogether. This being an occasion, the eldest female member approached her siblings to assemble in a place.They all turned up. When they came to know of the photo shoot, the eldest of the family, a male incidentally refused to stand with his brothers.

The ladies persuaded him.coaxed him and finally he agreed. The picture was taken amidst fanfare.
The picture would remain to the posterity as a factor to be much commended. The union though happened for a short while would be considered as a significant incident. The fact that would not come out. The picture would hang for the rest of its life symbolizing unity.The unity is for namesake in reality.

It well suits the adage in a different way.
Unity is strength.

A Revenge?

As this could be a turn of event, I see a strange feeling in the behaviour of two aged persons,
They are not anyway strangers but husband and wife  who have lived together for 55 years,
 borne children, got hem married and even seen their grandchildren get married.

The couple in the twilight years are estranged. The lady, unfortunately,  finds her husband not compatible. She has so many allegations against him. Most of them are unbelievable.
If all are true how would she have lived with him for so long. The old man has his own faults and now he is in such a bad shape. Healthwise, he is highly diabetic. Having not cared it he lost a toe and then his left leg up to the knee has been amputated.He lives alone in a village where there are hardly any doctors. Such being his plight he yearns to join with his wife. The lady remains stiff and adamant.

The children do not take any action to unite them. Each one is bothered about his own business, They want to procure their share from the parents as each one has crossed the eighties. The wife

has her own issues too. She has to live alone with none to attend her call. She carefully disguises her difficulties and loiters around as if she is the happiest person on earth.

When I heard of this affair my heart first inclined towards the man. After serious deliberation thought how could a woman forsake her husband, if at all he had not treated her badly.  Is she taking a revenge for what has gone in the past?

Long Live My Sons---- From "Atha"

I got a call from a distant land.  My eldest son from Canada called me in the morning. The way he calls me "atha"( Tamil equivalent for mother) thrills me.  I recall the day when he first called me so. He was nine months old when he started to articulate words. The word "atha" came to him so easily.

 he rolled his tongue and pronounced "ath "then he sat dumb for a few second then struggled with the 'aa". The next time he could say it with more ease and thereafter it was a play to him.

He is a father of two children and still he calls me with the same fervour and affability.  his daughter, now a six-year-old , makes fun of him when he addresses me as'atha". I spent a month with him last year in Mississauga,  Canada. Those days are absolutely unforgettable. As soon as he returns fro his office, he would open the door and cry out for me.His daughter would rush to him and ask him, why are you so fond of your mother? and would come to me and tell" your son has come".After a wash, he would come and sit close to me, would take my hand and keep it over his. We would talk for hours together. Time was not the criteria, nor were his children and wife. It was I, who would ask him to go to bed as it was getting late. 

The word "atha" was taken up by my other two sons. They, in their own way, call me with great fondness. It is that word, from my sons, keep me going all through these years.

Long live my sons. 

Not A Big Philanthropist.

One good turn a day could be of great value and recognition.

A hospital in my town collects newspapers and other papers sells them and uses the realization to fund a heart Foundation which helps the poor to receive cardiological treatment,

I had been selling the old newspapers and magazines for say a few hundred rupees monthly. I was not a huge amount but a decent one.

When I heard about the Hospital's requirement, I called them and offered my papers. This has been going on for 5 years now. I am not a big philanthropist. I do not give in millions and billions but few hundreds a month. Seeing me, my son also brings the newspapers from his place which is 500 kilometers from my town each time he comes to visit me.

It is but a simple thought but a very helpful one. The way you offer help is not in kind but in mind. This be one of my ways for

me.

The Executors And The Will

The fallacy,  the greatest fault of man is the thought of immortality. However, he be advanced in age he wants to live forever. Exceptions do fall into the rules. This is the general scenario.

A father dies at the age of 75, leaving estates to his sons. He appointed his first son and his second son-in-law as the executors of his will.This happened some twenty years back.The father had also arranged ann alliance that of the grandson by his first son and the granddaughter by his second daughter tie the knot. This taciturn understanding of the old man was so well hidden under the sheets.

The first son, an illiterate man, with a least exposure, took the reigns of the family business.
He entered into an initial partition and did that on his own accord. The brothers were only too pleased to accept the deal.  The second son-in -law was busy with his practice as a medical professional in U.S.A.
Disputes arose and the first son due to his ignorance and inefficiency went on his own not listening to anyone and breaking all norms. he was seconded to an extent by one of his younger brothers. the other brother who questioned his authority was put to undue hardships all through. The family of the brother who raised his voice against the executors underwent a tough period, but they stood stoic.

The brothers went to court. The judgement was passed a few years back. The executors have not moved a bit. They do respect the court verdict too.
 The executors are well over 70  and the brothers over 60, still the controversy continues.

Now, would you not agree with me, if I say all the more that these executors feel they are immortal!

Charity Begins At Home.

Topics that connect me to the world holds my attention. be it a small episode, like helping an old man cross the road makes me curious. I do a good turn and write about the same incident. That way, my writing is different. I do not say, it is highly professional. I can assure you, it is humanitarian.

The first assignment  I wish to submit to my readers is about the small help that my granddaughter extended to her classmate. She is in grade 4,  nine-year-old, who is compassionate and helpful to those who are in need. her classmate is a boy who is in a wheelchair. he is ill but could do math so well. The poor boy, let me call him Jack johnson, does the math mentally, gives out the answer in a second but could not write it.

 my grandaughter named after me does the all the writing for this boy and wheels him to the car, thirty minutes before the bell goes. She told me of this today while I was talking to her in FaceTime.
 I felt proud of my little girl.

Charity begins at home says the adage. To my little Meenakshi, it has started in school.