*From To Sathish*-Sathish's new movie Info & Pics pg20! - Page 114

A new day,A new beginning

The world outside is outside and i am still inside.The barrier separating me from the outside is just a few brick walls and few windows made up of aging wood and rusty iron.But still they mark the barrier which puts a halt to most things and matter of the world ouside but for the air i breathe and the sounds.Five in the morning i am mostly busy toasting brown bread thinking and hoping it is whole wheat bread and the noises start.An early bus off to pick up sleepy people and to deposit them in their places of work or pick up sleepy and tired people from work and deposit them at their homes.But it is the crows and mynahs who trumpet the coming day and the start of new time with the new light.Somewhere nearby a grandfathers clock chimes five times and my clock chimes and signal ready,steady and po.It is a new day,a new beginning and time for new things.babies will be born,old and sick lives will be leaving us and the earth,third rock from the sun is ready to spin and face its father the sun,our nearest star.With the birds the song bird in my breast ruffles and fluffs its feathers and a new song,a new thought is born and it adds a spring to my step and off i go jogging into the night.men delivering milk and newspapers,women delivering milk and sweeping the entrances to their houses. Maami's in madisaar,maamis in nighties bent over painting the ground with kolam and i see bandicoots scurrying back to their homes and a tom cat on the wall with one in its mouth,looking at me preening in its victorious hunt and i jog on.The police booth is filled with snores of bored policemen and the patrol car is visiting the tea shop for free tea and butter bikkis.I jog on,on and on and the song bird has woken up and i am ready to sing,ready to write and ready for a brand new day.

MUSIC,LIFE,GOD,EMOTIONS


J.J. Cale John Weldon Cale (December 5, 1938 - July 26, 2013)

I have mentioned this a few times before but i will repeat it again that starting with Alan bartley and ending with pradeep warrier, my knowledge of music leaped from sweet pop to rock and its various genre of heavy,metal,psychedelic rock and soft rock.While alan,me sudhakar lamech,bujju and pritham did enjoy a little bit of heavy metal in the mid 80's of scorpions,led zepplin,sabbath,deep purple, i often to my surprise found alan listening to pink floyd,dire straits and the alan parsons project.Valerie bartley or MUM as i used to call her would generally play safe and mostly played richard clayderman and one particular album " piano solos".

I grew up with Abba,Boney-m,Kishore kumar and L.R.EASWARI.In the mid 70's to my knowledge,whereever i went all i heard was l.r.easawaris thaye karumaari and karpoora nayagi kanakavalli.festivals the same songs,friday same songs,house warming same songs,baby born same songs. I think you are getting my drift.But it was mostly tamil music that filled the air we breathed in via my grandmom's small radio and her prized possession.She was used to sleep on the cot with my cousin Bondi aka bindhu ravish and i would sleep on the floor,just in her arms reach.Well,everyday after dinner and that was mostly done by 8.30 p.m and i was ususally asleep in some corner of the house by 7.30.p.m not having dinner and roused up and asked to go sleep on my bed.The few hours of deep sleep from maybe 7.p.m to probably 9.p.m kept me awake until 10.p.m and that one hour i lay awake with my grandmom's radio belting out numbers from tamil films for which music was composed by k.v mahadevan,Viswanathan-Ramamoorthy etc.Two or maybe three days a week they used to have radio trailers and snippets of songs of upcoming movies.I used to love the moodu pani and moondram pirai radio trailers.


When i joined besant arundale, i used to hear sanjay and paramjit talk about jethro tull,pink floyd,aersomith,the eagles and ramu aka ram sheshadri would join in and they would discuss names and music which i had no clue about and i used to think,should i mention k.v mahadevan,Viswanathan-Ramamoorthy and try to join the conversation but i kept quiet and i am plenty glad that i kept quiet.But honestly the things music does to you soul and mind is i think on level with what we feel when we are in love or in the presence of loved ones.But then again,these words are a much flogged cliched ones.


During the mid 80's and in the death grip of michael jackson and break dance beats,i was caught up with all that is sweet and groovy of pop, as i still do and am and alan introduced me to the world of rock and pyschedelic rock.But only after pradeep introduced me to J.J.CALE,NEIL YOUNG AND ERIC CLAPTON did i become a big fan of soft rock.Here is about the time that everything has a melody and be it death metal or doom metal.hindustani,western or carnatic etc.I finallu understood that it is not the music alone but what you feel and you the listener that is important.

I have to shamefully admit that from early 90's to the early 21st century i collected so many tapes of music that it can be safely termed as an action of a fanatic.
Shove a tape into the open window of the now defunct and ancient tape player and for about 30 or 45 minutes,depending on the length of the tape,music of shivkumar sharma,kenny g,hariprasad chaurasia,neil young,j,j,cale,clapton,bread,boston and ilayaraja would fill the air.There are some who swear by certain names or certain genres and they are the real fanatics.I,me welcome music from where ever it stems from including the parai molam that is belted out as dead bodies go by my house and my feet start moving and my face is filled with ecstacy and then i remember death and wonder.if i go before sanjay,then i am going to ask him to play and dance to irene cara's break dance.Wonder what he will make of that.


When i am calm,mellow or moody in a good start of way i hear j.j.cale and i am lost.gentle chords,lovely and sweet melody and throw in his gruff voice and well,time well spent my people,time well spent i confess.

R.I.P- J.J.CALE. You are gone but in me and millions of others you are still alive and are singing those beautiful songs,everyday,every year and forever.

If and when you get time,do listen to some of his songs listed here and they also are my favourites.

J.J. Cale - Crying
J.J. Cale - Lies
J.J. Cale - Sensitive Kind
J.J. Cale - Cajun Moon
J.J. Cale - Carry On
J.J. Cale - Don't Cry Sister
J.J. Cale - Magnolia

Chapter 5

The traveller awaits the morning tide

He doesn't know what's on the other side

But something deep inside of him

Keeps telling him to go

He hasn't found a reason to say no

"Days Are Numbers (The Traveller)" THE ALAN PARSONS PROJECT

"Books. They are lined up on shelves or stacked on a table. There they are wrapped up in there jackets, lines of neat print on nicely bound pages. They look like such orderly, static things. Then you, the reader come along. You open the book jacket, and it can be like opening the gates to an unknown city, or opening the lid of a treasure chest. You read the first word and you're off on a journy of exploration and discovery." ? David Almond

Nuclear chemistry

You probably have seen or read news stories about fascinating ancient artifacts: At an archaeological dig, a piece of wooden tool is unearthed and the archaeologist finds it to be 5,000 years old. A child mummy is found high in the Andes and the archaeologist says the child lived more than 2,000 years ago. How do scientists know how old an object or human remains are? What methods do they use and how do these methods work? The method is carbon-14 dating and it allow determining the age of certain archeological artifacts of a biological origin (bone, cloth, wood and plant fibers) up to about 50,000 years old.

How it works

Cosmic rays enter the earth's atmosphere in large numbers every day. For example, every person is hit by about half a million cosmic rays every hour. It is not uncommon for a cosmic ray to collide with an atom in the atmosphere, creating a secondary cosmic ray in the form of an energetic neutron, and for these energetic neutrons to collide with nitrogen atoms. When the neutron collides, a nitrogen-14 (seven protons, seven neutrons) atom turns into a carbon-14 atom (six protons, eight neutrons) and a hydrogen atom (one proton, zero neutrons). Carbon-14 is radioactive, with a half-life of about 5,700 years. Every radioactive element has a different half-life, ranging from fractions of a second to millions of years, depending on the specific isotope. For carbon-14, it is known that half of the atoms decay in 5700 years. Therefore, 5700 years is the half-life of carbon-14.

The carbon-14 atoms that cosmic rays create combine with oxygen to form carbon dioxide (CO2), which plants absorb naturally and incorporate into plant fibers by photosynthesis. Animals and people eat plants and take in carbon-14 as well. The ratio of normal carbon (carbon-12) to carbon-14 in the air and in all living things at any given time is nearly constant. Maybe one in a trillion carbon atoms are carbon-14. The carbon-14 atoms are always decaying, but they are being replaced by new carbon-14 atoms at a constant rate. At this moment, your body has a certain percentage of carbon-14 atoms in it, and all living plants and animals have the same percentage.

Plant-eating animals get their carbon-14 by eating plants. All animals in the food chain, including carnivores, get their carbon-14 indirectly from plant material, even if it is by eating animals which themselves eat plants. The net effect of this is that all living organisms have the same radiocarbon to stable carbon ratio as the atmosphere. As soon as a living organism dies, it stops taking in new carbon. The ratio of carbon-12 to carbon-14 at the moment of death is the same as every other living thing, but the carbon-14 decays and is not replaced. The carbon-14 decays with its half-life of 5,700 years, while the amount of carbon-12 remains constant in the sample. By looking at the ratio of carbon-12 to carbon-14 in the sample and comparing it to the ratio in a living organism, it is possible to determine the age of a formerly living thing fairly precisely.

The ratio of isotope carbon-12 to carbon-14 in a sample must be determined in order to date the sample. This task can be done by accelerator mass spectrometry, which is performed in huge laboratories where the most striking component is the accelerator - a huge tank where isotopes are accelerated.

Jayalakshmi handed over a id tag and asked sadashivam to hang it around his neck and said it was needed becuase they were going into the restricted area of nuclear chemistry to meet Dr.venkatadri or venky regarding the carbon dating.Through corridors they walked deep into the belly of IIT and came to a glass door which had a security system.Jayalakshmi entered the code on the keypad and also swiped a card for additional measure and the door opened quietly and welcome them with a hum of machinery. Dr.venkatadri came walking up to them and said ' wow.sadashivam,the great sadashivam in person.It is a honor sir,to finally meet you.'

sadashivam politely thanked him and said he was sorry for intruding but the matter before them was of significant interest to him and he would be grateful for his help.

Venky threw his hands and as if brushing away sadashivams words ' boss, IIT owes you this and much more.It is the least i can do for you, a person who has created so many world class minds in the field of physics.so tell me what i can do for you.'

Sadashivam showed one of the paintings and the single black sketch of the blind woman and both venky and jayalakshmi reacted visibly to them.

Venky ignored the painting and taking the sketch let out a whistle ' awesome,truly awesome.sir,do you have any idea of who sketched this, for my wife collects old and antique stuff and i bet she would really be interested in this artists work,that is if there are any left.well that aside,now i need to take a few samples from each piece and no,dont worry for i will just take a sliver from the edges and i will run the tests.I will get back to you in a weeks time or if things go well maybe earlier than that.'

Sadashivam thanked him and venky using a small but very sahrp looking scissors,snipped off a few samples from the pieces and left.

Sadashivam thanked jayalakshmi for her help and she said it was okay and took leave of him,but not before taking the ID tag from sadashivam.

Driving back home, his thoughts were filled with excitement about what he would learn about the paintings,when his mobile rang.Sadashivam slowed and with his indicator on slowly came to a halt near the platform of the road.He answered the phone and a lady introduced herself as pallavi and that she was the daughter of prabahakar.

Sadashivam asked her what the matter was and how he could be of help and pallavi replied that her father had peacefully passed away in his sleep in the early hours of the morning.She said he had left a sealed package with his name on it and his contact no and requested him to collect it as soon as possible.

Sadashivam was saddened and shocked to hear that prabhakar whom he had met just a few days ago was no more.But his thoughts were on buddha,the huge dog and wondered what would happen to it now.He told pallavi that he would be there in a couple of hours and would collect the package.

Reaching the house of prabhakar,sadashivam was surprised that there was not much of a crowd and there were very few people who had come to pay their last respects.Most of them were old and probably belonged to prabahakar's era but for a few 40's and 50's people who obviously had been his students.

Pallavi, a quite tall but very slim woman came up to him and said 'mr.sadashivam' and handed him a large package and a few other pieces of paintings which were all wrapped neatly in thick brown paper.

Sadashivam asked her what they were and pallavi said she had no clue and she was just following her father's requests. she looked at sadashivam staring at the few people who were sitting quietly in chairs and smiled and said ' dad kept to himself the past 30 years and was out of circulation. he made time to teach for very few people and your daughter malati was one of them. After mother passed away, dad just withdrew into himself and never attended any functions or made any public appearances.'

They both stood quietly under the shade of the tall trees that covered the house and seeing sadashivam searching for something, pallavi ' oh,you are looking for buddha.well he is gone.I dont know why or where he is gone to but he left the minute after the doctor declared my father dead.I dont know what to do but i think he is one dog who can look after himself and that reminds me what my dad once said. He said pallavi.this dog is here now for a reason and he is more of a guest than a pet or a friend. So after i go,please don't restrict his movements in any way. promise me this.'

Sadashivam smiled gently ' pallavi,buddha was not a dog but looked more like a lion and you are right when you said that he is one dog being who can look after himself.' sadashivam understood that the funeral was going to take place the next morning and promising to be there took leave from pallavi and returned home.

Buddha,the huge dog walked slowly and emerged from the darkness and transformed into a huge black maned lion and roared loudly and the skies answered with loud thunder.But the lion was not alone for next to him stood someone who held a huge spear in his right arm and had his left arm over the lions head.There appeared to be some kind of image on the left arm, just above the wrist and then the lion roared and sadashivam woke up from his dream and realised it was a dream.

I am fire and i am water. I am hell and i am heaven and i will bring peace to you.

The boy who went into the dark and came back with light.

"My gripe is not with lovers of the truth but with truth herself. What succor, what consolation is there in truth, compared to a story? What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring like a bear in the chimney? When the lightning strikes shadows on the bedroom wall and the rain taps at the window with its long fingernails? No. When fear and cold make a statue of you in your bed, don't expect hard-boned and fleshless truth to come running to your aid. What you need are the plump comforts of a story. The soothing, rocking safety of a lie." Diane Setterfield

Stories, i think are similar to dreams and although fantastic rarely come true. Stories are just meant to amuse and help you pass your time.Yes, sometimes you identify with certain happenings, certain emotions but then it is just coincidence. Stories are like a healing touch, a balm to take away your tensions of life and burdens that other lives put on ones shoulders. Stories, books are meant for you to relax and be on yourself and be in your own imagination led by the storyteller's words.

Chapter 6


"Wish not for treasure you can hold,
No gleaming jewels, bright and cold,
For finer still than pearl or gold,
The treasure of a tale well told..." ? Brian Holguin,


The mirror is the greatest story teller.Yes,the mirror that you stand before and gaze at yourself and yet fail to notice the drama left behind by father time and mother life.Years,decades have passed and are passing and in your mind the mirror fools you and stays the same. Now closer,closer and now see the wrinkles,the lines around your mouth,the crow's feet in the corner of your eyes. Closer,only closer do you see your reflection and the same way only when very close do you see or are able to see someone's faults and shortcoming's. The mirror tells its story to you, to me and to billions and yet stays the same. imagine the stories buried in its memories and imagine the countless souls who stood and asked ' mirror, mirror on the wall.'


"Life is like a lit cigarette. The past is ashes, the present is burning, and the future is up in smoke. Fast as a breath; inhale exhale."? Anthony Liccione




Life goes on,living and dying


When someone important to you dies,when someone you really loved dies, you expect something,some change in the web of life.But no, nothing changes.the sun rises,the sun sets,the moon rises,the moon sets,summer gives way to rain and cold and then summer comes back.But wait for there is a change and that change is in you. You are the world and the world is what you make of it. Here today, gone tomorrow.

Sadashivam stood next to pallavi and few others as a priest chanted some shlokas and sadashivam wondered ' a whole lot of good it is going to do now, for the dead stay dead and take their life and secrets with them.It was a simple and brief ceremony and prabhakar was put on a tray and pushed into electric hell.sadashivam saw,orange,hot orange and wondered what it would do to the old man's body and suddenly panicked thinking 'what if the man is not dead and wakes up inside as the fire consumes him alive.' He shivered with these morbid thoughts and pallavi looked at him suddenly and asked him if he was okay and sadashivam smiled gently and said yes.

They stood under a neem tree and a crow cawed nonstop and both looked up and then looked at each other and shook their heads.The crow flew off leaving them in peace and sadashivam said ' for a minute their i thought about myself and thought about death and lost my mind.'

Inside and deep inside the electric crematorium the heat was doing its job of reducing the body to ashes and bits of white bone.It did its job without any questions asked and went about in fiery rage and handing out remains for people to cry over and disperse in air and water. Ha,ha,ha so in the end we came from the elements and in the end we go back to the elements, as one and united in atoms and molecules.

Pallavi smiled ' death is our destiny,death is the true end and one ride we cannot miss for it will not miss us.'


It was late in the evening and sadashivam sat in his den and heard the tv through the closed door and wondered about kamalam and what joy she found in all those stupid tv serials.she was watching a repeat of an atrocious serial called Ananadham that had aired in sun tv and was now being retelecast in zee tamil tv channel.Well she should what the hell she wants to do and who the bloody hell am i to judge her thought sadashivam and then took the package which was left behind by prabhakar and untied the knots which guarded the package. There were a few sketches on canvas,chart paper and an envelope.
He opened the envelope and taking out the letter which had been obviously written by the late Prabhakar started reading it.

Dear mr.Sadashivam,

I am glad i met you and i am grateful to you for bringing me the sketch and the paintings for me to review.The paintings are as i told you are from the 13th or 14h century and i dont think you will find my understanding about them to be very wrong.But that sketch,now sadashivam that sketch is something altogether and for that i must say thanks for there is something weird and at the same time something special about it.I can sense it but i dont know what to make of it.I have listed a few people whom i trust and can vouch for who might be able to shed more light on the paintings but as to the sketch,my friend i know and realise that you are going after it and its mystery.I really wish i could be with you and share your journey towards that origin of that sketch but sadly i am too old now.But there is something in the painting which could shed light about the place where it was drawn and that is first the mountain and if you look closer at the edge of the painting,you will see a arch through which the path leads to the mountain.I don't know why it strikes me so but i feel this mountain is somewhere near the outskirts of madurai.I am not sure but my heart tells me that i am right for that shape of the mountain reminds me of a village somewhere outside madurai.I kind of vaguely remember this for i used to travel a lot when i was in my 30's and 40's and i think me and another friend stopped here for a cup of tea. Nearly half a century ago and hence my memory is not what it used to be. But talk to my daughter pallavi and ask her to show photos of mine from the old,old days and days of my wandering and she will know what i am going on about.

I am happy to send you these other sketches and paintings for they are the journey of your daughter malati, when she took up the art of painting.I had collected all of them and i give them to you for i know what joy and pride, a childs prowess can bring to a parent. And they rightfully belong to you and malati.Please see to it that they reach her and please convey my blessings to her.like you i too live in her through her art and talent and i think you will understand that it is what being immortal means.i wish you the very best. And,don't worry about Buddha for he will be all right.
Prabhakar


Sadashivam did not realise it and did only when the tears fell on the letter filled with its beautiful handwriting. He wiped his tears and realised that it was probably the last thing the old man had done before his passing away and said a gentle thank you to the breeze that blew through his window.He decided that he would wait for a few days before calling pallavi for she would need time to grieve over her father's death.

His mobile rang and he said hello and it was pallavi.He hurriedly asked her if everything was all right and she said yes and then she said that her dad had written a letter to her leaving some instructions on some things to be done.she he told him that he had asked her to give him access to all the photographs from his younger days and to help him in any way possible.

Sadashivam was stunned with this turn of events and had no words on how to respond and with a choking voice replied that he would see her in a couple of days and said ' thank you, thank you very much.Your dad was truly a great man and i must confess one of the most organised person i have ever met. if there is anything or if i can be of help in anyway, please don't hesitate to ask.'


It was late in the night and the burglar who had successfully broken and entered many houses and escaped with lakhs and lakhs worth of jewellery stood in the darkness of the street where among many posh houses stood sadashivam's house. Tall ashoka trees stood as soldiers on either side of the road as if standing guard against enemies.Cars were parked on both sides of the road and the burglar decided that he would test each house and see in which one he would get lucky. Since the houses all looked like they belonged to rich people he was sure that there would be watchmen but he was also sure that most of them would be sleeping. He hugged the darkness and slowly slipped between the cars and nearing the house which shared a compound wall with the house of sadashivam, realised that the house had neither a watchman nor a dog guarding it and so it was easy picking for the night or day for it was 2.a.m. in the morning.

The wall was very high and so the burglar decided that it would be easier if he used the ashoka tree to scale it and stood and gently peeped over the cars to see if there was any movement in any of the house or on the road. He heard a rustle and looked back but it was totally dark and his instinct told him to stay still and wait for a few minutes before climbing the tree.

The darkness spread like a blanket around him and on the platform. The burglar knew that since he was dressed in total black and he being dark skinned, nobody would be able to see him sitting there in the shadows. But then the darkness moved, rippled and darker than dark out stepped a dog or was it a calf thought the burglar but then the animal opened its jaws and growled and something warm flowed in the burglar's pants and even without taking his eyes of the huge dog he realised that his bladder had let go and he had wet himself. The huge dog took another step and its jaws looked so huge and then the thiefs eyes started playing tricks for he could see that the dog was now a lion,a huge black maned lion and it looked as big as the car it stood next to. The burglar let out a quiet squeal and fled, scampered,ran like the wind for his life.


The police would wonder why all of a sudden there was a drop in burglaries in some areas of chennai and they would wonder for a long time but would never know.

Manimaran, a native of salem and who doubled as an auto driver in the morning and as a watchman in the evening had been breaking and entering and making away with money and gold for many years. The police had never been able to catch him and he had eluded their grasp for a long time and would now elude them forever.
For manimaraan would never steal again in his life or never spoke about what he saw that day in the darkness. He would carry it to his grave. He returned to salem the next day and for the remaining days of his life stayed there and not once did he step out of his town.


In the darkness prowled another darkness and it was a darkness that was beyond words.

I am fire and i am water. I am hell and i am heaven and i will bring peace to you.

The boy who went into the dark and came back with light.


"The Dreamer awakes
The shadow goes by
The tale I have told you,
That tale is a lie.
But listen to me,
Bright maiden, proud youth
The tale is a lie;
What it tells is the truth."
Traditional folktale ending

Shoulders Of Giants



You walk the beaten and trodden path that runs like pale brown ribbon through the woods,through grass lawns.Shades of brown,light,dark,sandy pale where nothing grows for they have been walked on a thousand times.You follow them to safety and use them as a guide to lead you to safety.
Like those beaten paths walked on by those that went before you and left ready for you to follow,words,thoughts and books of great minds and unknown minds are similar in nature,if you follow my drift.Sometimes while browsing through books racked and tucked into dusty and rusty shelves in libraries such as yeloor and murugan, i will stop and go through synopsis of books and place it back and go on and on,next to the next.The sheer and staggering amount of books published and to an extent a large percent of it go unnoticed is mind boggling.So many stories,so much thoughts and so many thinkers in multiple fields and i leave in awe but happy and content in the knowledge that every life is a story.Every person has a story to tell and millions,billions are lost for they have no means of expression or are just content to dream and get on with life.


Charts,bestsellers lists sort and list for us books on fiction and non-fiction and the rest are cast aside. Although it is understandable,that charts and lists are necessary to market it is sad and heart breaking when the rest are culled and banished into the void of dusty and rusty shelves and hidden in darkness and worse still,place high on the racks where one wont strain to look or reach up to.marketing and eye level contact.


I share with you some golden words and golden thoughts that touched me and made me better for what i was before,a few minutes before.

"A number of years ago, when I was a freshly-appointed instructor, I met, for the first time, a certain eminent historian of science. At the time I could only regard him with tolerant condescension.

I was sorry of the man who, it seemed to me, was forced to hover about the edges of science. He was compelled to shiver endlessly in the outskirts, getting only feeble warmth from the distant sun of science- in-progress; while I, just beginning my research, was bathed in the heady liquid heat up at the very center of the glow.

In a lifetime of being wrong at many a point, I was never more wrong. It was I, not he, who was wandering in the periphery. It was he, not I, who lived in the blaze.

I had fallen victim to the fallacy of the 'growing edge;' the belief that only the very frontier of scientific advance counted; that everything that had been left behind by that advance was faded and dead.

But is that true? Because a tree in spring buds and comes greenly into leaf, are those leaves therefore the tree? If the newborn twigs and their leaves were all that existed, they would form a vague halo of green suspended in mid-air, but surely that is not the tree. The leaves, by themselves, are no more than trivial fluttering decoration. It is the trunk and limbs that give the tree its grandeur and the leaves themselves their meaning.

There is not a discovery in science, however revolutionary, however sparkling with insight, that does not arise out of what went before. 'If I have seen further than other men,' said Isaac Newton, 'it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants." Isaac Asimov, Adding a Dimension

Quotes,Notes and Musings



"12% of employees eat because they are hungry. 88% of employees eat because it is 1 o'clock." Mokokoma Mokhonoana

"If unconventional ideas = sperm, then public opinion = abortion." Mokokoma Mokhonoana

"Most people say that Shakespeare rocked merely because most people say that Shakespeare rocked." Mokokoma Mokhonoana

"If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking." George S. Patton Jr.


Sometimes When It Is Quiet - A Poem about Reflection

Sometimes when it's quiet

And I am all alone

I'll sit back in my chair

Not answering my phone.

Sitting there in the stillness

Doing nothing at all,

I lean my head back

Stare at the wall.

Taking some time

To just stop and think,

Ignoring the laundry

And dishes in the sink.

Putting aside

My long list of to do's,

Taking a break to relax

To survey the view.

A few moments to reflect

Away from the din

On where I am going,

On where I have been.

Removed from the chaos

Away from the crowd,

For a rare moment of peace

When time will allow.

In these moments

So precious and few,

I have time to consider

All that I want to do,

To ask myself,

What is it I want to be?

To search my heart

To see what I see.

In which direction is it,

That I want to go?

Consider my options,

Get my ducks in a row.

Look toward the future

Begin to devise a plan,

Give myself a little pep-talk,

Tell myself I think I can.

Spend some needed time

Searching within my soul,

Reviewing my highs

Reviewing my lows.

Asking myself,

Do you like what you see?

Am I doing all I can

To become a better me?

Have I been honest and truthful?

Have I been charitable and kind?

When I search my conscience

Will I like what I will find?

Or be disappointed to know

I've been acting greedy and mean?

Only when I look inside,

Can what I look for be seen.

To do unto others

As you would have done unto you,

This is what we were taught

In the days of Sunday school.

In looking inward at myself

Perusing my memory,

I hope to find I'm thinking of others

Not only thinking of me.

In these silent moments

I have time to reflect,

On what I might have done differently,

On what I might correct.

If given the opportunity

What difference could I make,

If I had that chance

What risks would I take?

If in the future

I might pass this way again

Would I do it all the same,

Or with a fresh start would I begin?

These moments coming unannounced

To catch me by surprise,

Give me the chance to see,

Circumstance through different eyes.

When captured by the moment

I cannot help but take a look,

Discovering what options

Might be hidden in cranny or nook,

To offer help in taking me

From one moment to the next

Finding new solutions,

To a problem with which I'm vexed.

These quiet little respites

Are born of necessity,

Otherwise how would I find

The tools needed to succeed?

For life is about the challenge

That is presented every day

To improve both ourselves and our world

In peaceful and small ways.

So when those quiet moments come

Unbidden and unexpected

It's best to take advantage,

Of their gift of time reflected.

And savor their brief moments

To store their lessons learned,

Enjoy the beautiful seconds

Of peace which I have earned.

-Kristen Burns-Darling November 2011

Chapter 7

"It is a cruel, ironical art, photography. The dragging of captured moments into the future; moments that should have been allowed to be evaporate into the past; should exist only in memories, glimpsed through the fog of events that came after. Photographs force us to see people before their future weighed them down..."
? Kate Morton, The House at Riverton


Every memory of looking out the back door
I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.

Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.

Nickelback-Photograph



Photographs,films,kodak hot shot. Going, going, gone. Sometimes by accident, when i am searching for something lost or misplaced and after i have turned most of the house, cupboards and boxes upside down, i will stumble upon some old photos, polaroids.I stop and sit for a second, sighing in some strange emotion of happiness, melancholy tinged with sadness and wonder where time has fled to. I look at the photo and my eyes search for my brown face, with a brown mop for hair and a huge smile spreading from ear to ear. A shiver runs through my body and i then hurriedly pile them back to where they came from. I look back through the windows of time and a projector runs flashing memories of people here and people gone, places i was and places that have vanished. Photographs will do that to you, time after time and as always life hand in hand with death marches on.



50 maybe 60 years ago

Stranger at the gate, let him in
Stranger at the gate, let him in
Stranger at the gate, let him in
Won't you let him in?

He's been waiting on the other side
He's been waiting on the other side
He's been waiting for the turn of the tide
Won't you let him in?

Promises leave you with nothing to show
Destiny leaves you with nowhere to go

Back to the wall
Have you seen the light?
Is your soul worth saving?
Back to the wall
Can you pay the price
Then your life is waiting?

Barclay James Harvest-Back To The Wall




Two days later and just after eleven in the morning, sadashivam and pallavi sat around the dining table with boxes piled next to them. They were going through each box for they were filled with photos and hurriedly sketched rough pieces of art done by prabhakar.

'Dad had a habit of sketching what he found interesting, right that moment and then later painted it if he found it worth the effort. These must be sketches he never went back to for i have not seen paintings of these and i have a list of all the paintings he completed. He was very meticulous and organised about everything he did and also kept an account of all the paintings sold by him ' pallavi said.


There were photos of prabahkar with a few friends and they had been taken all over india and in famous places like Belur, Halebidu, ajanta, ellora, taj mahal, varanasi, hogenakkal falls,chikmagalur,chidambaram,tanjore,madurai,Srisailam,tirupati,Bhadrachalam.

Time flew by and it was nearly three in the afternoon when a loud rumble made its presence felt by its volume. Sadashivam hurriedly looked at pallavi and said ' sorry but that was my tummy protesting and letting me know it needs to be filled.'

Pallavi grabbed her mobile and made a call and about twenty minutes later ran to the door when the bell rang. She took the parcel to the kitchen and yelled out for sadashivam to come and help himself.

Sadashivam washed his face and entering the kitchen was surprised to see a buffet spread before him. There were rotis, dhal,vegetable salad and curd rice.
He looked at pallavi with raised eyebrows and she nodded ' courtesy of the nearby Hotel Annapoorna run by one mr.ramachandran.He has purchased many paintings of my dad and they were pretty close and dad sometimes used to go there for a cup of filter coffee and pudhina vadai. Or sometimes ramachandran used to drop in with coffee and vadais and they both used to sit and debate old MGR and SHIVAJI films. Well if it is of any interest my favourite hero is kamalhassan,but i only like his old films and not his new ones of the 21st century. What about you shivam, who is your favourite actor.'


Sadashivam looked at her and licking his fingers clean of the tasty tomato dhal ' that is a difficult question for i have many favourites and most of them are from Hollywood. But if you ask me about indian cinema,well then Nagesh,ranga rao,balaiah,m.r.radha and yes savitri. Shivaji was okay but i felt he tended to overact a bit.'


Pallavi nodded and then both dug into the containers of curd rice and sadashivam let out a huge sigh ' awesome, just awesome. This is not curd rice but dessert for it is filled with grapes, carrots, pomegranate seeds. If i should eat at this place for a few days, boy i will surely put on a paunch.'

Pallavi ' maybe you should put on some weight for it will suit you. You look very skinny but i guess that is best as you get older.'

Like long lost pals they connected and spoke, discussed and shared many tales and a few secrets and sadashivam understood that pallavi was a widow and that she had never remarried. She had lost her husband to an accident a few years after marriage and the shock had been too much to bear and it had taken many years for her to recover from. She had drowned herself in her teaching job and carried on with life while helping her dad with his passion.

With cups of tea steaming next to them both dived into the boxes and went about sorting out the old photos and then suddenly pallavi showed him a photograph of prabahakar with a couple of friends standing under a tree with tender coconuts in their hands.There were couple of a norton single cylinder motorcycles parked next to them and all of them were laughing at the photographer.


Sadashivam reached out and taking the photo stared at it with great interest. His eyes bored into the photo and they focused not on the people but the background. The hair on sadashivam's forearms stood up and he felt a shiver run through him and he thought he heard a whisper.

He turned to pallavi ' what,sorry,did you say something.'

Pallavi said no and asked him what had caught his eye and taking a deep breath sadashivam told her the whole story, starting from the paintings he had bought at murray and co and the light in the sky and the sketch of the blind woman. He also told her about her dads faint recollection of the mountain and an arch which were there in the painting.


Sadashivam showed her the photo and pointed to the arch in the background and the mountains in the distance. 'Pallavi, i think this is it, this must be the mountain and the arch which appear in the painting and if i can just get a name for this place, then i can trace the roots of the painter and maybe get more information.'


Pallavi stared at sadashivam and smiled gently ' shivam, surely you understand that it is going to be next to impossible to find information on someone who lived in a place nearly five centuries ago. Have you stopped and thought about the chance that it could have been painted by someone from a distant place or painted from a recollection of a very old story or just a tale, a fairy tale.'


Sadashivam thought about what she had just said and took a few minutes before answering her.

Pallavi ' what is this life if it is not meant for living.My duties as a son are over and both my parents are gone.My duties as a father are more or less over as malati is happily married and with her husband in america. My duties as a husband, well that is one question i have no answer nor do i know how to answer it, but i have given my best to my wife kamalam,even though there is not much understanding or love as romantics would put it. I have never been unfaithful in my life nor have i been with any other woman apart from my wife.This mystery about the painting is all i have left before old age, yes old age really consumes my strength. I want to live life for once ,just once for myself. I dont want to die knowing that i had a chance at a small and simple adventure and turned my back on it.
I don't know if you can understand all that i just said but somehow i always had faith that i would be a young man for once and go off on an adventure like tom sawyer or huckleberry finn did in the stories.'


Pallavi slowly reached out and took hold of sadashivam's hand and clasped it tightly. ' I wish you luck and i promise you that you can rely on me for all the help you think you need.'



The darkness settled over chennai by 5.45 p.m as it did during the months of december and january. Buddha sat quietly in the darkness outside the house of sadashivam. Hearing a voice, his ears tilted towards the direction it came from and he slowly rose and stood massively like a statue made of stone.
The man came out of the darkness and walked towards buddha and the huge dog whined like a puppy and fell at his feet and rolled on to its back. The man knelt down and scratched buddha's tummy and both exchanged a moment of friendship.

The man stared into buddha's eyes and said ' i am busy with work right now and my presence is needed elsewhere. So be here and stay with sadashivam until the end. Don't worry for i will know when both of you require my help and i will come. but with you there, i doubt if my help is needed. Soon, we will stand on the mountain and run in the forest as they all did long ago. until then, i wish you well.'

He slipped into the darkness and got into the car waiting for him and as he reached to open the door, light revealed a strange design on his left forearm.

I am fire and i am water. I am hell and i am heaven and i will bring peace to you.

The boy who went into the dark and came back with light.

Hindi songs i am currently listening,all slow and syrupy


DOLLY KI DOLI - Mere Naina Kafir Ho Gaye
ROY - Yaara Re
ROY- Boond Boond
ROY-Tu Hai Ke Nahin
Hawaizaada - Dil-E-Nadaan
PK - Chaar Kadam
ACTION JACKSON-Dhoom Dhaam
The Shaukeens - Meherbani
Kill Dil - Sajde.
Haider - Do Jahaan
Haider - Khul Kabhi
Bang Bang - Meherbaan

Smile,i love your smile

Smile,where has it fled to that smile
a smile of joy as long as a mile
ear to ear and that which brought a tear
a tear from joy and happiness and that nearly put a tear
a tear in your ribs and a stitch in your side

smile,where has it gone and why is it lost
a smile which reflected the light of the soul
that brought wrinkles on our face
in the corners of the eyes and the corners of the lips


smile,why have you abandoned those smiles
and now walk around as if you have piles
day after day, i run mile after mile
and hardly see a smile,a smile that would make me smile
a smile that bursts like the sun through the clouds

so i smiled at my own smile in the mirror
and wondered about how false the smile was
and i wondered why it was so and i wonder how it became so

Nice poem about smiles.😊