Friday, September 21, 2007

A recluse to another....

Within the bedlam christened life,
A bed so cozy lend to whom?
Born ignorant of burdens ahead,
in a track of faster pace,
to one who bore the brunt before.

Portrayed mud footprints tiny,
Given in place to toy,
luster lacking begging bowls.
Pencils she forgot to grip,
when hunger pained her callous.
Instead got matchsticks tiny.
Smile she knew not what !
Just a missing link in her texts.
Slept in sleepers withal,
Waking to alarms whistling.

Happened an age she knew less,
Something of which less she knew.
Wriggling writhing she waggled,
wholly aching her cadaver,
comforting while crying within.

Always only despair aside,
A dangling whammy unaware,
Sober eyed perceived her drama she,
Donning roles umpteen.
Umpteenth is now role finale,
in the same old tracks,
A lunatic Boy-Bearer.

Monday, September 10, 2007


A differently crowded Mumbai morning. Missing traffic snarls. Vacant trains. Silence of the cacophonies. Absence of the melodies. Something amiss? Ohh yeahhhh.. It’s a Saturday. Still the relentless energy pulses climbing the local trains were intact. Push-pull, pull-push. Excitement never subsides.

As usual the squatters sat in a disciplined line, displaying the frontal museum or their own “backdoors”. Rain as a natural flush they sit calm. I had my 18 pages of HT to go through. Yes!! My newspaper. Already the co-passenger had lent the page 3. A little gossip would do well. His eyes were sometimes popping out isn’t? Oddity in nudity. Letters or pictures? I chit chat to myself. I get into my next pastime. Opened the mobile front panel. Customary from my side to rake my brains and squeeze my fingers to set it back. The co-passenger was watching. He intervened. Did I like his freedom? Affirmative. ”Clip it first at top and it would be easier” – Advised taken. And lo!!! Words of gyan did work. So easy a task!!! What all did I do to set it trial and error. A small lesson added in the everyday texts of my calendar.

You travel by the same train, same route, same routine, yet have you ever realized that every split second in life is different. We don’t observe and complain monotony. Queer isn’t? The same lady on your street wears a different attire. The same vendor sells a special smile. The same newspaper portrays another charming story. Diversity.

People differ. Characters vary. Children grow. Maturity sets in. The routine continues as if you are keyed by a toy-seller. The hair upon your hair falls to gray. Noticed? It’s change. The absolute in permanence. Where you realize the misplaced vagaries and variety of life. We search. We condemn ourselves to the bygone.

The Hundred-thousand reflections in the saloon still ask me a 100, 000 more of unanswered questions. Am I doing what I have scripted above? The answer is I am not, though I am aware of a plain truth that life is short. Almost 19 years lost in the simplicities of infancy, childhood and teenage. As freedom sets in, the job begins. Then faces scorn at you. Why haven’t u tied the naughty knot? Initial enthusiasm. Then monotony. A few extramarital. Life is spiced for some. Salted for some. Still life snails. Ennui isn’t?

But can you rewind the clock to adjust the lost ages? Think of the second that you lost now in adversity and selfishness. Enjoy the petty fights you have. Take pleasure in the trivial. Value the insignificant. Forget and forgive. Laugh at it like an anecdote of the passing times. Break free from the fetters of narrow-mindedness. Laugh openly. Smile gently. Speak up and speak out. Don’t ever regret.
I thanked the man who helped me with my mobile. A smile I gifted. His cheeks reflected his dimple. Acknowledged. I left to catch my taxi.

The small girl at the red-yellow-green waits. The lights transform from the blinking yellow to red. Cars screech to a halt. 120 seconds of halt. She breezes past the open windows. Her hair sways to the cold wind. Her tiny hands are replete with the lemon-chilly combo. Averts ill luck. They believe. The tinted windows open. She sells more luck to the rich and the famous. Did it bring her any luck? Her destiny alone knows. Missing the tender age of childhood. She may be yearning to be like her clients kids dressed in school uniforms. She gets her share of the coins. If not luck she had her fortune. She smiles. I feel proud and happy for her. The man in the car never does. He has a lot to think. Business and money. Quotations and tenders.

Another man on the footpath sleeps unscathed. No blankets. Oblivious of the happenings. Ignorant of the world. Blaring horns never wake him. Is he drunk? NO, I notice his face. Serene. He has nothing to worry. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow is a dream. Today is awake like a gift and so we call it the present. He earns for today. He sleeps for now. No bank accounts. No fixed deposits. No tax calculations. No tensions.

Countdown begins…3-2-1. The light turns green. Engines roar in impatience. Cars surge faster than the rockets. My little gal’s eyes droop. She saves herself to the walkway. Waiting eagerly for the lights to turn red again. Maybe another unlucky passenger may turn lucky.I proceed. Single day. Innumerable experiences. Mumbai or Bombay. Madras or Chennai. I learn more of life, most from life.

Now am in my office. Forgetting every second that has gone. Head absorbed deep in those files of which I know nothing.I should change. My heart weeps and appeals. Will I? When will I? Who knows? Time will tell. Wait for me. I plead. The clock ticks faster. Am I falling far behind the race of life?

Friday, September 07, 2007

My First Love...

A story of resistance, perseverance and patience. The morning fun and the evening frolic make my day. Sorry not to have introduced myself- I am a VIP with a shiny black leather sheath and I accompany my boss wherever he goes. The perfect travel being in the local trains of Mumbai. So am a Bag and christened TravelTru.
Everyday I am crushed in the rush to enter. Somehow my boss sweetly requests people near the window to stack me carefully in the racks of the local. Maybe because am heavy. I don’t know!!! The stench from other bags, their rough hooks, all hurt me a lot. But some days I sleep a lot with the Times of India as the cushioned side rest for my cozy comfort. Some days I am squeezed in the multitude of other bags. I take it to be a part of life and I enjoy.
Let me tell you how I fell in love for a brief moment today. The usual morning stinking feeling was there, when suddenly a sweet fragrance spread near me. My half sleepy eyes popped open to see a cutie ladies bag near me. A beautiful cream-colored luxury bag embellished with a lot of embroidery. She had rainbow hues spread over her skin. The two rings dangling on her ears, attached to it were bands of her beautiful pink hair. Her twinkling eyes and designer wear with lots of well ironed pleats. Her beautiful rose lips were zipped. All eyes were set upon her. Its not always that a local traveller like me gets a female counterpart. As I peeped down to see who owns this cutie, I saw my boss sharing jokes with a pretty madam. I felt from the core of my feelings that this cutey is mine. As i gave a glance, she sulked. But i knew... she had an eye on me too. Maybe my executive looks garnered her attention. All the second grades were commenting on her, whereas i remained silent. She was feeling uneasy. As the bag near me was taken off, we became neighbours. I thanked God. Her insecurity spoke to me. We started conversing for the envy of others. But the train was almost covering up the destined time. She narrated expressively on her new journey. Her name was Pretty-pet. So I guessed that Pretty-pet had boarded a general compartment by mistake and my boss would have got her madam in his sweet talk. We too spoke a lot on ourselves in the minimal time that ticked faster than usual. She was impressed. Not just on my looks, but also on my character.
It was love at first sight. What a lucky day for me. As the train inched towards her destination, my boss handed pretty carefully to the madam. With a heavy heart we were parting ways. My eyes brightened as I overheard my boss noting the madam’s mobile number. That meant we were going to meet again. As I looked at my cutie she winked. My heart missed a beat. She professed. My eyes twinkled in the affirmative. "lets meet again somewhere, sometime. Do wait for me." Her eyes were pleading. I acknowledged. My experience taught me to muse a thought - "The people who are loved deserve to know the people who love them...So don't miss a chance to express your love, cos hearts are broken with the words unspoken."
I knew that my boss and me had found our sweethearts. Thanks once again to the suburban trains of Mumbai.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

The most flourishing industries of Kerala - PART ONE.

Jewellery business – A Golden pastime.


The Mallus, a sweet sobriquet for Malayalis, go gaga on the sovereigns of gold. As a vestige from the yesteryears of gulf stay and culture; brides compete in kilos of gold hung on the neck. Every competitive neighbor tries to outlay the maximum for his daughter’s neck. The mushrooming of jewellery shops than the number of women in Kerala has heralded a golden era in the history of this industry in Kerala.


The eminent historiographer Thankappan (gold-father) says that he will soon present details pertaining to proving the birth of Midas and his daughter in Kerala.


A future study predicts that the provision stores will be selling gold biscuits instead of the Britannias and Parles.



Ophthalmologists report a high incidence of people in the age group of 50-55 seeing tinges of golden yellow in every frame while eye testing.


Some literary critics claim the origin of the expression, Heart of gold from Kerala as the Malayalis are generally warm and caring while collecting gold.


The agricultural industry too revels selling Two-dozen Carrots’ (24 carat) to anyone in Kerala. Aquarium owners have hit a goldmine by selling goldfishes to families from all walks of life.


What’s more, the General Secretary of the left wing politics Mr Karat, is an offshoot from Kerala.


There is focus on an Olympics event titled, “Neckthletics”, for the strongest neck, which may turn a real gold mine for Malayalis.

“The names like sona, swarna, suvarana etc are highly accepted in the matrimony industry today” said Kalyanaraman of Swapna Mangalyam Agencies.


“Even the clothes with the yellow-gold hue are in high value and profoundly sold these days.” added Goldy Mathews of SONA Textiles.


All Kerala Goldsmiths Union celebrated the golden jubilee of the runaway hit, Ponmutta Idunna Thaaravu (The duck that lays golden eggs), by distributing pin-up's of models from the latest jewellery advertisements.


Gold has also brought about a sea change in the attitude of youths in finding self-employment. They skillfully break into houses, without disturbing the sleeping.
The poultry farm union has demanded the State Govt to help them rear only those hen, goose and ducks that can lay golden eggs. “This will be a golden opportunity not only to increase revenue but also reduce robberies in the state” – Echoed their leader Mr. kokkako.


Many elders aptly conclude that this is the golden era for Kerala and Keralites. With filmstars too joining the bandwagon, nothing else can be more proof to the popularity of the yellow metal in the hearts and minds of Keralites.