Soft drops, they wait and watch,
For the right moment, to hit your face;
And when rain comes down, and the starlings hatch
And the sweet sweet smell of the earth, there are so many ways...
To feel alive, to lose your pain,
To let the tears, roll down unseen;
To prance around, in the summer rain
To cry, to smile, to love that green...
And to wish to God, to be worry free,
When the rain comes down, in sheets of white;
When dew and freshness and misty fog envelopes thee
With the pitter patter on the roof, in the night...
How blessed we feel, that first summer's day
When it begins to rain, and we feel relieved
We wouldn't have it, any other way
'Cos in His divine magic we had believed...
Friday, August 26, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
A Friend
One day, I will be a friend, you'll need me
One day, I will be some one you will see
With fresh new eyes, a whole new sight,
And deep down inside, you'll feel all warm
I'll keep you safe, from every storm
And sometimes I will let you cry at night
And I won't say a word.......
And one day, I'll let you fly,
And one day, I'll soar with you
To every cloud that made your day,
And be with you, whatever you do
I'll hold your hand, and I will stay
With you, today, tonight,
And I can't help but smile
When you become a free bird....
It feels so good, to be a friend
It feels so right, to say what's true
And never care, or ever pretend
And I can be, but anything else
Cos you know it, And I always knew
What you were to me, And I was to you
And I wish we were friends again....
And I wish we were friends again....
Monday, July 11, 2011
Moments that I will remember forever….
1) I distinctly remember the day I first went up the road to my school, holding my grandfather’s hand, waiting for admission. I remember climbing up onto the principal’s desk and delivering a Rajiv Gandhi speech I had learnt by heart with full gusto and enthusiasm, for a promised chocolate…. (Bribes! they start them so early…. :) )
2) I remember that happy day in class 1-C when I won the first of many quiz competitions. I didn’t realise it then, but that day was the beginning of a life long obsession with learning and remembering abstract and totally irrelevant facts… ( The first of them being the direction in which the sun rose….! )
3) I remember most of my quizzes, essays and elocution competitions in school, and the hard nights I had put in for every one of them, the sweet taste of victory, the anger at having come in second, and many more emotions…..
4) Watching In Harihar Nagar and Ramji Rao Speaking countless times on my ancient Video player and on TV…. Picked fights with mom when I was not allowed to watch them without completing my homework.
5) The day when my class came out with the class magazine “VISION”…. my proudest moment as the editor…
6) The day I won the bible crossword puzzle with Rs 50/- as the prize for my church magazine. My first earning. The beginning of a long journey with crosswords and puzzles.
7) Listening to ameen sayani talk of kishore, rafi, lata, asha and the names of a hundred unknown people from across India on vivdh bharati radio just before singing out malayalam prayer songs with my mom and slipping off to the world of dreams…. Beginning of a lifelong obsession with music, Kishore in particular.
8) Watching umpteen cartoons like He-Man, Swat Kats, Popeye. Eating spinach in the hope that I would get muscles like popeye. Learning that its all a hoax….
9) Taping songs from radio onto cassettes, and trying out hopeless imitations of all the singers…I remember spending a whole summer with my tape-recorder and walkman. It was an old Philips model, and we were inseparable!
10) Collecting and playing with cards of famous wrestling stars with my two best friends from the colony….Oh, the summers I spent traipsing all around my colony Mini-Land….the pool, the playground, trying to touch the sky on a swing….
11) My lifelong association with books began the day I got one as a birthday present, from the folks living on the ground floor in ‘93.
Didi, I will always be indebted to you for that Hardy Boys book.I’ve read and owned at one time or another, close to 200 other Hardy Boys books, and my thirst for books of that sort has only grown since.
I remember reading one book a day from my school library, and suprising the librarian everyday, so much so that she gave me an extra key to the shelf. And I daresay with just a hint of pride, I must have read more books than all of my peers in school combined.
Many subscriptions to Gokulam, Tinkle, Readers Digest, etc later, whenever I see a book, I am drawn to it.
12) The Food. My grandma’s cooking. No further words needed.
13) My first job in Accenture. Joining day. Rains. Four more years of many projects, people, hard work, no work, carrom, Java, etc.
14) My first trip to America.
15) My second trip to America.
And then there are many more memories. Of going to church on a cold December night every year for Christmas, Sunday School, Coaching classes, tuition classes for Marathi and Hindi, Gaming sessions in a video game parlour, travelling to Kerala, to Thiruvalla, Tripunithura, through all the states of South India, and many more.
I write this in the hope that one day, when I look back at this post and read it, I will remember all of these memories again.
One day, I will look back and thank God, as I do now, for all the blessings, all the happiness, all the memories. All the good and bad times I’ve had. All the people around me. All the love, affection, friendship I’ve been lucky to have.
I write this in the hope that whoever reads this may know, the Lord is great and merciful. And he never ever says no to a prayer from the heart for some true love and happiness. My memories are proof enough of that…..
2) I remember that happy day in class 1-C when I won the first of many quiz competitions. I didn’t realise it then, but that day was the beginning of a life long obsession with learning and remembering abstract and totally irrelevant facts… ( The first of them being the direction in which the sun rose….! )
3) I remember most of my quizzes, essays and elocution competitions in school, and the hard nights I had put in for every one of them, the sweet taste of victory, the anger at having come in second, and many more emotions…..
4) Watching In Harihar Nagar and Ramji Rao Speaking countless times on my ancient Video player and on TV…. Picked fights with mom when I was not allowed to watch them without completing my homework.
5) The day when my class came out with the class magazine “VISION”…. my proudest moment as the editor…
6) The day I won the bible crossword puzzle with Rs 50/- as the prize for my church magazine. My first earning. The beginning of a long journey with crosswords and puzzles.
7) Listening to ameen sayani talk of kishore, rafi, lata, asha and the names of a hundred unknown people from across India on vivdh bharati radio just before singing out malayalam prayer songs with my mom and slipping off to the world of dreams…. Beginning of a lifelong obsession with music, Kishore in particular.
8) Watching umpteen cartoons like He-Man, Swat Kats, Popeye. Eating spinach in the hope that I would get muscles like popeye. Learning that its all a hoax….
9) Taping songs from radio onto cassettes, and trying out hopeless imitations of all the singers…I remember spending a whole summer with my tape-recorder and walkman. It was an old Philips model, and we were inseparable!
10) Collecting and playing with cards of famous wrestling stars with my two best friends from the colony….Oh, the summers I spent traipsing all around my colony Mini-Land….the pool, the playground, trying to touch the sky on a swing….
11) My lifelong association with books began the day I got one as a birthday present, from the folks living on the ground floor in ‘93.
Didi, I will always be indebted to you for that Hardy Boys book.I’ve read and owned at one time or another, close to 200 other Hardy Boys books, and my thirst for books of that sort has only grown since.
I remember reading one book a day from my school library, and suprising the librarian everyday, so much so that she gave me an extra key to the shelf. And I daresay with just a hint of pride, I must have read more books than all of my peers in school combined.
Many subscriptions to Gokulam, Tinkle, Readers Digest, etc later, whenever I see a book, I am drawn to it.
12) The Food. My grandma’s cooking. No further words needed.
13) My first job in Accenture. Joining day. Rains. Four more years of many projects, people, hard work, no work, carrom, Java, etc.
14) My first trip to America.
15) My second trip to America.
And then there are many more memories. Of going to church on a cold December night every year for Christmas, Sunday School, Coaching classes, tuition classes for Marathi and Hindi, Gaming sessions in a video game parlour, travelling to Kerala, to Thiruvalla, Tripunithura, through all the states of South India, and many more.
I write this in the hope that one day, when I look back at this post and read it, I will remember all of these memories again.
One day, I will look back and thank God, as I do now, for all the blessings, all the happiness, all the memories. All the good and bad times I’ve had. All the people around me. All the love, affection, friendship I’ve been lucky to have.
I write this in the hope that whoever reads this may know, the Lord is great and merciful. And he never ever says no to a prayer from the heart for some true love and happiness. My memories are proof enough of that…..
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Journeys.....
Journeys.....
What a title.Inspiring.
When I set out to write a few words with this topic in mind, I am reminded of the enormity of the task at hand and the scores of able writers and their innovative imaginations which have previously presented colourful vistas of all corners of this world through their words. I feel as if scratching the surface of this gigantic task is in itself a herculean task of which I may not be worthy.
What is the most beautiful/exotic place in the world? A loaded question. One that cannot be answered. Perhaps, What is the most beautiful/exotic place you have seen would be a better question.
For me, unquestionably, it would be Kerala. God's own country. The land of plenty, the land of greenery, the land where nobody likes to work, and every body's business is everybody else's business.
After two trips to "The United States of America", many would beg to differ with me. However, the old adage stays true, beauty really does lie in the eyes of the beholder. The US did offer me some fantastic panoramic views, rolling plains, countrysides with horses and cows, the usual picture that children begin to draw or paint sceneries whenever asked to, or the ideal image that has had poets writes paeans about.
But they lack soul. Or maybe it isn't so evident.
Whatever be the case, an early morning stroll through a quiet lane in my "gaon" of Tripunithura on a cool December morning is definitely sure to invigorate and refresh my senses and make me feel like a brand new person.
The journey to Kerala is in itself worthy of a book and I won't presume to think of anybody who has made the journey to ever forget it easily.
The 30 hour journey begins with 2 days prior preparations at home. Buying the little things, toothbrushes, socks, locks for the bags, etc is a much needed exercise dutifully carried out by everyone. Then mum begins to cook. After years and years of discussion, for every trip we end up making either Lemon Rice or biryani and carrying a bag full of food that is never finished.
Then begins the epic journey. We start by always reaching LTT station atleast 2 hours early. To beat traffic. And wallow in the dirty, dank, moist and inhospitable atmosphere of LTT. Thankfully, we have confirmed tickets.
After boarding the train comes the inevitable unpacking, dad wearing a lungi and me and mom slipping into more comfortable footwear. Then begins the all important survey of our neighbours for the next 25 or so hours. And not surprisingly, it is always, always so easy to connect with them on a personal level. As if we've known them all our life.
Details are shared quickly, what I do, where I work, etc. Grouses are commonly dispatched with, how dirty the roads are, how its going to be worse, the rains, the trains. It's all a way to unwind. And without knowing, its time to order dinner, which thankfully we dont have to do.
We order for breakfast and lunch the next day. I'm already looking forward to not eating all that food.
Dinner over, everyone settles in again, for a round of talking shop. The lazier ones want to sleep. Which is usually a good idea, since it gets a big number of hours out of the way. I am already counting in reverse. Maybe I'm suffering from OCD. Who knows.
Bunk beds. The next most important thing in the train. People go to great lengths to assure themselves of a lower berth. We just book early. And get them.A jealous and rueful look passing over the other's faces, we go to sleep.Only to hear about fifty chainsaws roaring through the damn compartment. If I didnt know my father too snored, I would have complained. But my mother now says I snore too. That leaves me with very little choice but to sleep.
And morning arrives, bringing with it the usual coffee/tea guy. He's a really popular guy wanted by one and all, and like the police in bollywood, always comes late.
By now I am really desperate.For a bath.For a comfortable chair.For some food. And the 15 or so hours left only break my heart even more. I look out the window. No use. Goa, in all its beauty is shimmering in mist outside. All I'm interested in is getting there. Is that too much to ask for. Apparently, yes.
I read a book. I read the newspaper. I read another book. I listen to some music on my Ipod. All the while, the train is unaware of my predicament and chugs along lazily. Stopping everywhere. Like a politician, asking for votes. I look at my watch.7 more hours to go. "WHAT!!", I say to myself.
And finally, in all its beauty, comes Kerala. I can feel it in my bones. The greenery changes, the houses look different. And a few known faces smile at my from passing hoardings. I stand at the door and wave out to the children along the tracks. Who think I am crazy.Or suicidal.Or both.
Some even wave back...Glad I made their day....
When I get down at Ernakulam, none of the problems seem too big.Its raining, the coolie is out to fleece us and the taxis and buses run on jet fuel through lanes which would scare a bicycle rider.It doesnt matter. What matters is that I am in the loving arms of my grandparents once again.
I have reached the end of my journey....
I am home.
What a title.Inspiring.
When I set out to write a few words with this topic in mind, I am reminded of the enormity of the task at hand and the scores of able writers and their innovative imaginations which have previously presented colourful vistas of all corners of this world through their words. I feel as if scratching the surface of this gigantic task is in itself a herculean task of which I may not be worthy.
What is the most beautiful/exotic place in the world? A loaded question. One that cannot be answered. Perhaps, What is the most beautiful/exotic place you have seen would be a better question.
For me, unquestionably, it would be Kerala. God's own country. The land of plenty, the land of greenery, the land where nobody likes to work, and every body's business is everybody else's business.
After two trips to "The United States of America", many would beg to differ with me. However, the old adage stays true, beauty really does lie in the eyes of the beholder. The US did offer me some fantastic panoramic views, rolling plains, countrysides with horses and cows, the usual picture that children begin to draw or paint sceneries whenever asked to, or the ideal image that has had poets writes paeans about.
But they lack soul. Or maybe it isn't so evident.
Whatever be the case, an early morning stroll through a quiet lane in my "gaon" of Tripunithura on a cool December morning is definitely sure to invigorate and refresh my senses and make me feel like a brand new person.
The journey to Kerala is in itself worthy of a book and I won't presume to think of anybody who has made the journey to ever forget it easily.
The 30 hour journey begins with 2 days prior preparations at home. Buying the little things, toothbrushes, socks, locks for the bags, etc is a much needed exercise dutifully carried out by everyone. Then mum begins to cook. After years and years of discussion, for every trip we end up making either Lemon Rice or biryani and carrying a bag full of food that is never finished.
Then begins the epic journey. We start by always reaching LTT station atleast 2 hours early. To beat traffic. And wallow in the dirty, dank, moist and inhospitable atmosphere of LTT. Thankfully, we have confirmed tickets.
After boarding the train comes the inevitable unpacking, dad wearing a lungi and me and mom slipping into more comfortable footwear. Then begins the all important survey of our neighbours for the next 25 or so hours. And not surprisingly, it is always, always so easy to connect with them on a personal level. As if we've known them all our life.
Details are shared quickly, what I do, where I work, etc. Grouses are commonly dispatched with, how dirty the roads are, how its going to be worse, the rains, the trains. It's all a way to unwind. And without knowing, its time to order dinner, which thankfully we dont have to do.
We order for breakfast and lunch the next day. I'm already looking forward to not eating all that food.
Dinner over, everyone settles in again, for a round of talking shop. The lazier ones want to sleep. Which is usually a good idea, since it gets a big number of hours out of the way. I am already counting in reverse. Maybe I'm suffering from OCD. Who knows.
Bunk beds. The next most important thing in the train. People go to great lengths to assure themselves of a lower berth. We just book early. And get them.A jealous and rueful look passing over the other's faces, we go to sleep.Only to hear about fifty chainsaws roaring through the damn compartment. If I didnt know my father too snored, I would have complained. But my mother now says I snore too. That leaves me with very little choice but to sleep.
And morning arrives, bringing with it the usual coffee/tea guy. He's a really popular guy wanted by one and all, and like the police in bollywood, always comes late.
By now I am really desperate.For a bath.For a comfortable chair.For some food. And the 15 or so hours left only break my heart even more. I look out the window. No use. Goa, in all its beauty is shimmering in mist outside. All I'm interested in is getting there. Is that too much to ask for. Apparently, yes.
I read a book. I read the newspaper. I read another book. I listen to some music on my Ipod. All the while, the train is unaware of my predicament and chugs along lazily. Stopping everywhere. Like a politician, asking for votes. I look at my watch.7 more hours to go. "WHAT!!", I say to myself.
And finally, in all its beauty, comes Kerala. I can feel it in my bones. The greenery changes, the houses look different. And a few known faces smile at my from passing hoardings. I stand at the door and wave out to the children along the tracks. Who think I am crazy.Or suicidal.Or both.
Some even wave back...Glad I made their day....
When I get down at Ernakulam, none of the problems seem too big.Its raining, the coolie is out to fleece us and the taxis and buses run on jet fuel through lanes which would scare a bicycle rider.It doesnt matter. What matters is that I am in the loving arms of my grandparents once again.
I have reached the end of my journey....
I am home.
Monday, May 9, 2011
My friendship with a Cat
The cat, for reasons all its own decided to let me touch her head one day. This was after I had spent 3 lifetimes in getting her to agree to my point of view about the piece of fish being offered actually being tasty.There was a curious suspicion in her eyes when I had offered her the piece, as if I had some sort of serum injected in it which would render her paralysed from the neck downwards.
The outstretched paw she put out reminded me of one of the characters from fantasric 4, and she went to fantastic lengths to prove she was good enough to maintain a one-hand distance from me and still get the fish piece.Me being me, I decided to test her to see if she really did want that piece so much and put out my own paw, i mean hand to compete with her.
A low growl emerged, she meant business and she wasn't willing to share. What manners! And suddenly out of nowhere, her claws came out. At this point I decided to let her have it. After all, what's the point in eating raw fish? Who eats raw fish these days,except for that disgusting guy on some nature channel....She looked happier and I could have sworn I saw her smile inwardly for a second.
The fish was hers, hers alone. A tiny but sharp claw hooked the fish and slowly dragged it back towards her. Eyes still on mine to see if I posed another challenge, she slowly devoured the piece, inch by inch until it was gone....Maybe it was the smile in my eyes, maybe it was Lady Luck smiling down on me, but at that moment I guess she knew I wasn't a threat...
I stretched out my hand again, empty this time, but all the same towards her. She slowly looked at me and came closer,sniffing the air, and gave a small wet lick to my fingertips. I ran my fingertips up her wet pink nose, onto her forehead and let it rest there, savouring the feeling of having mastered a wild and dangerous clawed feline beast.
That was how our friendship started. The cat, for reasons all its own decided to let me touch her head one day.
The outstretched paw she put out reminded me of one of the characters from fantasric 4, and she went to fantastic lengths to prove she was good enough to maintain a one-hand distance from me and still get the fish piece.Me being me, I decided to test her to see if she really did want that piece so much and put out my own paw, i mean hand to compete with her.
A low growl emerged, she meant business and she wasn't willing to share. What manners! And suddenly out of nowhere, her claws came out. At this point I decided to let her have it. After all, what's the point in eating raw fish? Who eats raw fish these days,except for that disgusting guy on some nature channel....She looked happier and I could have sworn I saw her smile inwardly for a second.
The fish was hers, hers alone. A tiny but sharp claw hooked the fish and slowly dragged it back towards her. Eyes still on mine to see if I posed another challenge, she slowly devoured the piece, inch by inch until it was gone....Maybe it was the smile in my eyes, maybe it was Lady Luck smiling down on me, but at that moment I guess she knew I wasn't a threat...
I stretched out my hand again, empty this time, but all the same towards her. She slowly looked at me and came closer,sniffing the air, and gave a small wet lick to my fingertips. I ran my fingertips up her wet pink nose, onto her forehead and let it rest there, savouring the feeling of having mastered a wild and dangerous clawed feline beast.
That was how our friendship started. The cat, for reasons all its own decided to let me touch her head one day.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
life,and stuff like that....
It takes a very small minuscule moment to really realize something about yourself that perhaps you were neglecting or just plain ignoring in favour of other fashionable pursuits.Sometimes, in that one moment, you realize the little things in life thst once mattered to you are no longer there, you realize that its been a really long time since you smiled from your heart, and you suddenly realize, you've been wanting all those things all along without doing anything about it. How many times a year can you really say, you were able to fulfill one lifetime dream?
And how many people can really be proud of that number?
That is what life is all about....
And how many people can really be proud of that number?
That is what life is all about....
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Some days again...
Some days, you need to feel free,
Some days, you just need to be
What no one could see,
What no one could be...
And just let emotions, run through your mind
Just let your inner self, take it all out,rewind
Take a deep breath, make a promise
To be just you, to be fine
Take a walk through the garden,
And look for the sign...
That says you're just human,
That says its ok to be flawed
And you'll find, you're now happy again,
And you'll thank Almighty God...
Some days, you just need to be
What no one could see,
What no one could be...
And just let emotions, run through your mind
Just let your inner self, take it all out,rewind
Take a deep breath, make a promise
To be just you, to be fine
Take a walk through the garden,
And look for the sign...
That says you're just human,
That says its ok to be flawed
And you'll find, you're now happy again,
And you'll thank Almighty God...
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