Celebrating life!

Sounding board Chief cook Sex doll Showpiece Waitress Vending machine PR Agent Was I never anything more than this???

I believed the ever-elusive happiness would find me when I would receive the mum-in-law’s love, a love that would desperately replace the searing ache I felt when I heard the words Mother’s love. I hoped to finally be cherished you see by someone who would see more than just faults and defects and a table to unburden load upon. I hoped they would see my warmth and recognize the depths of my passion and proudly highlight my achievements instead of disapproving glances. And when this didn’t happen I lost all  hope. And that’s when While wallowing in my misery with the force of a butterfly wing you nudged me and then encased me in the whirwind of your love, my beloved, my paramour, my all – my divine. It was you I had wanted and needed all those years ago and still do. My mine. 

Misfit misjudged abandoned sent away cornered raped left to die, she fought back with every broken bone till she could heal enough to stand on 2 legs and become her own person: SHE.

With faces of stone Seated comfortably where they are Like Ganapati and Siva They declare fates And we the hapless people Are forced to run in circles As per their dictums and laws That make sense alone In a universe they alone know of Till either our backs or our brains Give in And we too join the long que Of those awaiting their fate.

     Vagamon was not one of those trips I was sure would happen but it did, and it left me with a sense of achievement. This was my first long drive as the sole driver and I am proud to say I completed it with not so much as a scratch on my Asta. The days spend at the Kurisumala Ashram would make the trip more than worthwhile.       We left Kottayam by about 11 a.m. Asta had 3 passengers on board – me, my friend and her daughter.  The drive was pretty straightforward with few complications on the road. The roads were pretty good for Indian standards except in a few places and there were ample signboards indicating we were on the right track. We drove via Ettumanoor to Pala and from there took a turning towards Eratupetta. At Erattupetta I must warn drivers to be careful because the roads are bad, but more than that the drivers I came across were rather reckless. We took a slight deviation at ----- accidentally but saved a kilometre in driving an...

We argue debate bicker dispute whether the man ate beef – or not whether those literary awards should have been returned and had they really deserved them at all. We talk about freedom being infringed; conduct debates on national media. The people responsible fly worldwide meanwhile and propagate other ideas for developing India while the hungry and poor drop dead like flies. (A comment on the recent murder in Dadri)

At first glance simply an old large cane. On close examination I could see scars from the beatings, life had given it and discoloured spots from years of indiscriminate use. It had been bend from the force of people trying to break it into two yet it still hadn’t broken at least until now because now I could see a crack down the middle- someone had at last succeeded in giving it that final blow.

Glossy roads from heavy rains Car lights that poke you in the eye Men that cross the road for you to hit them Tottering drunkards all Hamlet- like Wannabe drunkards who park in d middle of the lane  Bikes overtaking u from both sides Buses that insist they scrape u as a gift Potholes that appear from  nowhere - to cross or not to cross so they can grab th eir night bottles Cars that decide to rush before you  as soon as you try to get on the main road What wonderful Indian roads!

She wanders like a gypsy her heart firmly planted in the loins of the earth her spirit soaring through the wind like a Sufi dancer in a trance her smile as bright as the sun she faces her clothes as brightly-hued as the Amazon forests her hair, mangled with joy, tears and freedom her mind – soaring in the heaven she sought all these years. That’s the gypsy I found in me.

My body -the one I was born in - is not my own. Women decide what it should be draped in. My husband decides when it must submit to his will. So when I speak about my not-my-body body I say: Caters to all your whims and fancies. In the colour and style of your choice. Also can be tailor-made to suit your requirements. Available for sale by marriage. Will easily support your entire family & children too. Free maid service for a lifetime. Only maintenance charges to be paid. And easily disposable after validity. Make it yours today - My not-my-body body.

That movement in the corner that was her weaving her cocoon of forgetfulness in nondescript white enshrouding her till a shaft of light poked a hole right through and then another  and then another. The cocoon fell apart. She gazed in wonder at the surrounding light and the tears began to flow because the light had been the kindness of remembrance the kindness of a stranger the kindness she thought she had long lost. (I recently experienced a week of kindness from various quarters and this is the result)

(Written after a few supervision bouts in the examination halls) Under my scrutiny I notice: Eyes doing a 360 in their sockets Gazes at the freedom beyond the grey door Sights set on the trees outside, as their papers remain blank A face intently dramatic with exam fever despite the fact that the face will be visible again the next time the exam happens The wandering eye continues to wander And the women fall under its scrutiny A pair of eyes that cannot be even bothered to acknowledge the supervisor while another attempts to steal a gaze at the nearest answer sheet A myriad eyes that focus intently on the desk as they attempt to write their futures. 

Born – burden Mistakes – immense Joys – unnecessary Aspirations – unrealistic Sorrows – overemphasis Responsibilities - more Dreams – impractical Speech – unworthy Strengths – negligible Weaknesses – innumerable Experiences – inconsequential Marriage – relief Death – happiness

     I have been one of those people blessed with thick, black, wavy hair. Even when I cut it short, it grows back to waist-length in approximately a year or so. So when I first heard about Pantene’s hair donation campaign last year, I was instantly inspired. I knew such a phenomenon existed in the West as I had a cousin who frequently chopped off his locks for such a cause. It was the first time I came to know about such a campaign in India but unfortunately I could not cut my hair in time. I searched the net then to find someone who would accept my hair. The agency I found in Mumbai did not seem reliable to me and I was wondering what to do.      Then one day, I attended a media workshop at St. Teresa’s College and in the newsletter I got from them, I read about their hair donation campaign. On further investigation I found the project was to my satisfaction and now I could finally do the deed. So I ran through the instructions and then approached m...

You decided I must be born - I was. You decided I shouldn't shed tears - I didn't. You decided I was your punching bag - I complied. You decided I would grow unattended - I grew. You decided to shower me with abuse - I listened. You decided my talents were worthless - I nodded. You decided my spotless skin was ugly - I agreed. wingless     shelterless     abandoned       bleeding      depraved       joyless I look at you It was never me. It was you.

Raindrop on my camera lens hankies wet with humidity we trudge an unfamiliar road to find a place, highly recommended. Backyard Civilization's art gallery Up the silent stairs into the artists’ foray shoes off our lives left on hold at the entrance we behold: Part of series of paintings entitled "Fool's Garden" gardens of extraordinary colours, peopled with fools from varied ages, Part of painting on paper entitled "Time wounds all heals" and heels wounded by time having stepped on seeds of different generations. The virtues of a village Tea-stained pencil work about replanting the virtues of a village captured our imagination as they walked past us to a new location, a new destiny. Our eyes were drawn away to the warm welcome of a fur ball Resident at the gallery examines our bags following an inspection of our luggage and begging for a caress. Only to be drawn back to an explosion of col...

When I met you I had on me: a broken heart an abused soul a lifetime of anger social rejection flurried emotions a longing for love a heap of panic attacks a blownup side effect body a friendless mind appreciation, well-starved minimal human contact an increased desire to belong And you gave me a receipt for: TOTAL ACCEPTANCE

I thought people only lived here in apartments and villas but I discovered life on the staircases when both elevators broke down and I had to climb 7 floors. There I discovered a community that meets to smoke cigarettes and exchange gossip. I found a group that airs their laundry as they discuss Brazil, Germany’s win or the upcoming Eid. There kids play and build stamina going round and round and round and cockroaches scuttle in search of food and new frontiers.  There I huff and puff and think If not for the broken elevators would I even know about the secret life of the stairwells that forge bonds unlike any other.

Getting completely drenched even with your best rain gear on Men who wear their lungis like a mini skirt (though they will have a major issue if women wore similar skirts) Puddles that make your car jump sky-high Getting poked in the eye by someone’s umbrella Impossible-to-see-through car windows despite being glass Streams and pond where there were none before Suffocating hot buses on account of all the shutters down Dangerously high levels of body odor in above mentioned situation (make sure to have a gag bag) Slipping & falling at least once especially in a muddy area Finding your foot caked in mud after u step into an innocent puddle Reaching home and finding everything in your bag soaked Someone will definitely share his/her fully-wet condition with you, physically Spend entire days feeling unconnected because you have no electricity Find your way blocked by all kinds of fallen plants   and sometimes cars too Invisible mosquit...

     Easter, true to its spirit, was one full of surprises, pleasant memories and nostalgia. For some reason I thought I would be flying out on a Wednesday till a chance reminder from hubby on Monday night made me realize that I was actually flying out on Tuesday. Oh dear! Then it was a last-minute mad rush to pack. I ran helter-skelter trying to get everything packed into my bags while I ensured the luggage didn’t exceed the weight limit. By Tuesday evening I had finally packed it all, though stuffed would be a better word. Now I was excited to leave. My friend’s warning that they would charge me if I went even a bit over the luggage weight limit, had me do a last minute repacking.     Having checked in online (I was within the weight limit, yay!) and being early, I was one of the first people to check-in. At the boarding gate I finally deciphered what the lady was announcing. It wasn’t a new word sones that I was hearing (like scones without the c) but ‘...