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."
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."
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