*From To Sathish* - Thread 3 - Page 94

Awakening

St. Joseph's Church at the heart of Dindugul is known for its vast space and the famous architecture which is evident from the glass works and special artistic work all over the church. The church was built between 1866 and 1872. It is the head quarters of Dindigul diocese of Roman Catholic Churches in Dindigul.

Bishop Thomas Paulsamy,the head of the Dindigul diocese and handpicked by Pope francis himself was sipping his evening tea in the quiet of his room and all the while eyeing the cookies that had been placed there.

The room was quiet and yet the conflict of reaching for another vanilla flavoured cookie and a voice saying enough was amusing and the bishop enjoyed these quiet tugs of war between his soul and tummy.

A simple man,Bishop Thomas Paulsamy was born in N. Poolampatty, in the Diocese of Tiruchirapalli. He completed his Philosophical and Theological studies at St. Paul's Seminary in Tiruchirapalli, and was ordained a Priest on 25th May, 1977, for the Diocese of Tiruchirapalli.

Bishop thomas looked at jesus on the cross " bless me father and forgive my sins against these delicious vanilla cookies that seem to add weight and girth to my ample tummy" and then with a mischievous smile took a bite of the cookie and closed his eyes and then looked at jesus " father,forget the apple in the garden of eden for can you imagine what would have happened to adam and eve if these vanilla flavoured cookies had been hanging there instead?"

He quite enjoyed these sessions of contemplation and discussion with his soul and god and felt it was one of the reasons why he was so gentle,tolerant and understanding about the human species in general.

The landline telephone instrument rang and bishop thomas looked at the five instuments on the table and then unable to see the light blinking on one of them which would help him pick up the receiver,he wore the glasses that hung on his neck and saw it was the red phone ringing and knew it was his private line and meant only for the priests of the churches in his diocese.

Whispering " father have mercy on us" he picked up and answered " father thomas here"

" Your excellency,i am brother ruven calling from the church of saint john bosco."

" son,just call me father.Tell me child,how can i be of service to you this evening."

Brother ruven went silent and bishop thomas realising that the matter was bit grave in nature and also hearing the unspoken panic in the young priests voice " brother ruven,take a deep breath and then say what you need to say without any fear or panic for whatever you say will be held in strict confidence,regardless of whatever nature the news is."

Brother ruven immediately understood that the bishop had misunderstood the nature of his call for a few cases of homosexuality had been whispered in the diocese and was now a raging debate among the faithful in the madurai and dindugul district.

" forgive me father for distrubing you but the reason i am calling you is to report that the father john selvakumar has been missing from early morning."

Bishop Thomas Paulsamy looked at jesus and thanked him and thought " i can handle a priest going missing but bless the lord for i could not have handled another complaint about my fellow brothers."

Clearing his throat " brother ruven,how long has father john been missing?

" from early morning father although i suspect that he left late in the night with his camera."

Bishop thomas thought for a second " camera,why? what does he do with a camera late in the night?"

' father,father john had been doing an extensive photo shoot of birds that only come out in the night and alos other nightlife."

Bishop thomas " birds that come out only in the dark and other nightlife.lord,this feels like a recipe for another disaster."

By now,slightly shaken and nervous,bishop thomas requested brother ruven to go file a missing persons complaint in the kodaikanal police station and also informed him that he personally knew the Inspector in charge there and would request him to swiftly look into the matter and do the needful.

Bishop thomas paulsamy knew most of the police officers in the madurai,trichy and dindugul district because he had served in all the churches in these regions and had met them all many a time during christmas and other religious functions.

But he was a Bishop now and knew that it would be better and more prudent to go through higher channels and opening the dairy on his table,turned the first page and there it was,N. Arivuselvam IPS,DIG-Dindigul.


Deuteronomy 4:36
"Out of the heavens He let you hear His voice to discipline you; and on earth He let you see His great fire, and you heard His words from the midst of the fire."



What if-the return part 4

Unnidam Mayangugiren My piano thoughts

"The piano keys are black and white but they sound like a million colors in your mind." - Maria Cristina Mena

There is just something so beautiful and melancholic about piano music that it melts your soul and carries it away on its notes and you sit lost in the mood.Although music has been a constant companion from the time i can remember,maybe four or five and back then it was popular hindi music that was the rage back then.

My late father who passed away in 1972 was bewitched and under the spell of the songs from the movie " Caravan"
and it was these songs that we constantly heard for i guess he turned the volume to maximum and those songs have gotten embedded in my mind and soul and also in a few of his friends and our neighbours and most have joined him on the otherside.What little exact details i divulge here are courtesy of the late Nagaraj,my dads best pal.

But as i grew up,piano music became a constant reminder that life was indeed beautiful and worth living and fighting for.I think from 1971 when my dad was alive and then from 1972 with my grandmom and her radio,music was the only constant companion for me and i used to beg,steal and buy tamil song books with lyrics for 5 paisa and 10 paisa and used to sit alone and sing them and sing them so bad and out of tune that it was not a wonder at all why i was left alone.

I guess you will stop and go " god is this going to be about him" and you are bloody well correct and on the money for when i write i can only write about me and my experiences and not about others,how ever well i know them and not unless they are dead and dusted.

The first time i actually saw the piano,registered it in my soul and saw the pianist who was playing it was in the film "Puthiya paravai" and the song was " Unnai ondru ketpen" and i sat hypnotised,mesmerised by my guru the late nadigar thilagam as he enjoyed playing it and it was only many years later that i realised it was acting and that the music was actually composed by someone else,another genius.But even if it was only acting,nadigar shivaji really looked the part.

During those growing year and black and white film years although color films did release and they were only for big stars like shivaji and mgr.

Whenever i heard the piano playing in a song,i used to go into a trance and sit and look at the speakers like that dog with its head cocked in the HMV logo.

Sadly,most of the songs that i heard beginning with a piano were all love songs,slow songs or sad songs.Maybe that is why i like the piano so much for it reflects all that was,is and could be in is mournings and melancholic moanings.

Starting from puthiya paravai's unnai ondru ketpen to johny's beautiful en vaanile by raga devan and pehla nasha from jo jeeta wohi sikandar,meri aashiqui from aashiqui 2,kahaan hoon mein from Highway,kahin to from jaane tu ya jaane naa songs with piano music are and will remain my favourites and my childhood pals.

But cometh the love of the bartleys,i was introduced to even more beautiful melodies by richard clayderman and that of great western classical music composers.

My wife might or might nor be aware of it,but there are times when we watch some new english tv series or programme and i will go into a trance on hearing the BGM and the piano notes will strike in my soul and then up and away i will google,search and find the music credits for that tv show and see who the composer is and then proceed to download it and drown in it.


A piano sounds quite unlike any other instrument and, if you heard it on the radio, you'd probably never guess how it was making a noise. The confusing thing about a piano is that it's two different kinds of instrument in one: it's a string instrument, because the sounds are made with strings, but it's also a percussion instrument (like a drum) because the strings make sounds when something hits them.(plagarised)

So what happens when you press the key of a piano? The key is actually a wooden lever, a bit like a seesaw but much longer at one end than at the other. When you press down on a key, the opposite end of the lever (hidden inside the case) jumps up in the air, forcing a small felt-covered hammer to press against the piano strings, making a musical note. At the same time, at the extreme end of the lever behind the hammer, another mechanical part called a damper is also forced up into the air. When you release the key, the hammer and the damper fall back down again. The damper sits on top of the string, stops it vibrating, and brings the note rapidly to an end.(plagarised)


Today my day starts with piano music of debussy,satie,yanni,yiruma and so many great masters and still i come back to my childhood friends and memories that remain fresh and young and secretly keep me also stuck in those black and white memories of the 1970's

Jannal oram-15

"The sacred is in the ordinary...it is to be found in one's daily life, in one's neighbors, friends, and family, in one's own backyard...travel may be a flight from confronting the scared--this lesson can be easily lost. To be looking elsewhere for miracles is to me a sure sign of ignorance that everything is miraculous."
Abraham H. Maslow

even the most beautiful face is ordinary
put it next to another face and it becomes extraordinary
the most beautiful lips can be framed and admired
but they come to life only when another joins itself to it
solitary and single is all very good
but when two become one it is called soul food
your heart beats for you but it beats better for another heart
your voice is good but it sounds a lot better when it sings for love
Life is just beautiful when two become one


Bus conducter Chandran looked at jeeva " ma'am,you look different today.That glow on your face means good news.Please ma'am share it with me and make my day better for i leave home everyday glimpsing my angry wife's face and then i am forced to look at driver thangarasu's ugly face the whole day and then when i get home the last thing i see before i close my eyes is my wifes face.Nightmare ma'am,a bad dream i tell you."

Jeeva looked at chandran " bro,please tell me the truth.Be honest.is your wife really all that terrible to look at?"

Chandran loudly " no ma'am,honestly she is not as bad as thangarasus wife for that lady is far worse."

Jeeva laughed and chandrans words evoked laughter throughout the bus and then he blew his whistle and yelled ' right,right."

Raman looked at jeeva " chandran is right,you know.for there is a glow of happiness in your face and it means something good and important has happened."

Jeeva looked at him with a smile and nodded and raman thought to himself " you smile but your smile is filled with both happiness and sadness."

She looked at him staring at her face " advocate sir,are you thinking of questions to ask with me under your cross examination?"

Raman hurriedly looked away towards the entrance of their bus as it slowly made its way to the nandanam signal and with the Metro rail work going in full flow,it meant a halt of five or more minutes depending on the situation.

He thought to himself with a smile and with his face turned away " cross examination.I guess i would really enjoy examining you in all ways and not while you are on the stand but while you stand before me in my arms."

Raman might have turned his face away to mask his thoughts from jeeva,but in the large mirror that was in front of driver thangarasu,his eyes saw everything.

Jeeva nudged his shoulder gently " one simple question and advocate raman who works for rangachari and associates is stuck for an answer.Anyway,i will first answer your question and yes it is good news and it concerns my little sister who wants to get married."

Raman with a million questions and even more concerns " little sister,marriage,but,you,what about you?'

Jeeva with a comic look of astonishment " Just a moment ago,you were lost for an answer and here you are examining me again with so many questions."

' sorry jeeva.I apologise for any sort of invasion of your privacy by asking so many questions.Please forgive me."

Jeeva placed her hand on her head and looked at raman with a bit of frustration" god,why so much formality? we are friends and so it is okay for you to ask questions.But i reserve my right to not answer questions that might not be answerable right now or for those that i have no answers and i might just never,ever have.okay sir."

Raman " okay,jeeva ma'am.so,please go on and kindly elaborate about this good news business."

" It concerns my sister who i thought was going to finish her medicine and go to united states for higher studies and research.Last night,she suddenly came and confessed to me that she has met someone and wants to marry him immediately."

She looked at raman and shrugging her shoulders " i thought it was only me that she had spoken to but apparently today morning,both my parents informed me that they had been aware about her new found love for a few weeks now.I should give credit to my parents for i thought i had my ear to the ground and was aware of everything that was going on in the house."

Jeeva looked at raman and then suddenly she remembered her dads words and they reflected on her face in panic" even if you say it or don't say it,my soul hears everything,even the breath that you take."

Raman looked at the sudden appearance of panic on her beautiful face and without even realising what his hands were doing,gently grabbed and held her hands as if to tell her it that regardless of the problem,it was going to be okay and he was there to care for her.

But his lips unaware of what his hands were doing,moved and formed words " jeeva,are you all right for you look very worried."

Jeeva's lips too,totally unaware that her hands were being gently held in his hands moved and formed a reply " i just happened to remember something my dad told me today morning and now that i think of them and analyse them,it makes me think that i am really dumb and have no true inclination or knowledge as to what my parents are thinking or how much they really know about their daughters and yet hold their silence."

Just as the bus began to move,a very elderly couple tried to board the bus in the front and chandran was ready to explode in anger,but seeing that the couple were in their early 80's calmed down " do i have to remind you both as to the risks of boarding the bus as it is about to move or before it comes to a halt and that too at your age."

The old man,taking heavy and deep breaths " sorry son,we came to get the blessings of t.nagar tirupati balaji and just as we were heading towards the bus stand which is nearly half a km away,we saw your bus and thanked god for this is the bus we were intending to board on our way to parrys corner and from there it is just two stops to washermanpet where we live."

Raman looked at jeeva and suddenly stood up and asked the old lady to take his seat and jeeva also stood up and offered her seat to the old man and both thanking them for their kindness sat down with a sigh.

The bus was a bit crowded and as frequent bus travellers know about the dos,donts and irritating moments when people wantedly fall on you or try to touch you or grope you,Raman asked jeeva to stand in front of him and he stood behind her,a barrier,a protection against anyone else on the bus with evil thoughts.

But how can one protect themselves against the physics and laws of motion for when the driver slotted the gear to first and stepped on the accelerator,jeeva's body was left behind and ramans body moved forward,although she would have felt like falling suddenly backwards and into his body.

Raman took her weight on his body and since his right arm was holding the bar on top of his head for support,his left arm holding his coat and files came up automatically and held jeeva by her shoulder.

But not before his face was buried for a split second and not before jeevas body felt his and as the signals of arousal ran faster than speed of light to the innocent raman and even before he could react,his body reacted to hers in love and passion.

She felt his hardness for the briefest of seconds and her whole body reacted to each other touch and love.

It was just a fleeting moment and yet so intoxicating to both of them that they lost sense of time and for words as lovers always do and then they were brought out of their world by the whistles and yells " parrys,parrys corner,parrys terminus."

Raman's felt his face red in blush and embarassment and he was really angry and upset with his body for betraying its feeling and that too in such a public situation and he mumbled a hurried " bye jeeva" and was about to make good his escape when the old couple " sir,madam.one minute.Thank you for offering your seats for us."

Then they gave some prasadam and a packet containing a huge laddu and looked at both of them " we paid for a special pooja for our children and grand children and this is that poojas prasadam.We give you our blessings and hope and pray that both of remain like this in happiness and marriage."

Both jeeva and raman looked at the couple as the boarded another bus to washermanpet and raman softly " I always took pride in the control i have over my words and senses.But i know better today for it appears that in certain situations and that too with a person whom you care for,there is no such thing as control."

Jeeva did not what to say for she herself was caught in her passions and she smiled sadly at him and walked away.


Chandran looked at thangarasu " so,i guess it is done now and only the date has to be set.bets."

Thangarasu became serious " no chandru,this friendship is very complicated and it is going to face its ups and downs."

Chandran knew the seriousness and understanding the depths of the words " i know but why do think so?'

Thangarasu " stupid,you only know how to shoot off your mouth,but you never,ever actually see what others think or actually feeling."

With silence from chandran,Thangarasu " that advocate is a paavam case and i think it is his first love but it is not so for that lady.I think she has been in love before and has had her heart broken very badly and people who have had their hearts broken never recover properly and carry that burden forever and that make a relationship a crowd and that is never,ever good for two to be haunted by a hidden third."

Chandran clapped his hands " dei,thangam,un perumattum thangam ille,un sollum thangamda."

Awakening


They like to reside in me,all my ghosts
for in my sadness i am their perfect host
they sought,fought and found my half broken soul
they circled,invaded and threw their wisps and curses
and with them i have become whole and yet a broken soul
now is it me or is it them who lives in light and out of sight
whose eyes see the world and its truths
and whose soul sees the other broken ones
but deep in me my soul cries not for the arms of the dead
but they cry for the one who is alive and yet undead
so in darkness i wait for her darkness
and together we will walk into the light
and see with eyes and brand new sight

ghost of satish

For people who spend their whole lives in the cities,the few days or weeks of summer spent in hill stations like ooty and kodiakanal are memories forever etched in their soul and moments which they remember until their last breath. The peaks,the greenery,the forests,the fragrances of flowers and fruits and the generally laid back life in these treasured realms are like a tonic,a medicine for their bodies and souls.

Like he did every morning kutty Rahul dragged the heavy teakwood chair towards the mirror that was on the table and with a bit of struggle managed to get on top of it and patiently adjusted the tie and the badge on it.As he combed his wavy hair,he reminded himself that he had to remind his mum again about the full length mirror for his room which would save him all this trouble of dragging and climbing up and down the heavy chair.

Finishing his checklist of appearance and uniform,he looked at the ground and slowly holding the chair,began to climb down but his dad as always gently held him in his arms and placed him softly on the ground.

Rahul happily threw his arms around mani and kissed both his cheeks and then remembering the incidents of the previous day " dad,why is mum angry and why does she always get upset when the other lady comes to see me?"

Mani smiled his sad smile " sweetheart,your mother has been through a lot in her young life and in this place she has made a new life far away from her old one and she is just worried that things might get troublesome again.But more than anything,she worries about you and that is why she gets angry and upset when she thinks she is not able to be there by your side to protect you always from this ugly world."



Rahul looked at mani very seriously " dad,i dont know much about both you and mums past life but let me tell you that i am never,ever going to that city called chennai for i see and hear about it daily in the tv and it is more scary than that old lady who hides behind you and stays hidden in the darkness of our trees."

Mani smiled " no baby,you never have to think about going to chennai for kodaikanal is a quiet and beautiful place and i think it is just right for us."

Shalini was about to enter her sons room when she stopped to hear father and son talking and stood quietly,hearing their conversation.

" Dad,more than this place,what makes it special is that both of you are there and that is enough for me and even if we have to go to chennai,i wont get too upset as long as you come along with us."

Mani looked at rahul with immense love " someday you will understand everything my child and i hope that i am there at that moment but for now remember i love you very much and i will never ever leave your side or your mothers.That is a promise."



Nearly 7,000 feet down from the palani hills on which kodaikanal makes its cradle,in the town of Dindugul,Arivuselvam IPS,DIG-Dindigul got out of his mahindra jeep and switched on his mobile which he had switched off for he and a few other police officers had gone into the forests to look out for sandal wood smugglers and after a whole nights quiet vigil they were going to sit down and plan on how to catch all the members involved in the illegal cutting of sandalwood trees.

A soft beep announced that he had message in his inbox and he opened it as he entered his cabin.The message was from Bishop thomas paulsamy and it read " please call me immediately."

At the same moment,Sub-inspector shanmugam came in and saluted him " sir,the Bishop called many time last night asking for you and left instructions for you to contact him immediately.He sounded a bit worried and i told him that i would inform you the minute you came into work.

DIG Arivuselvam had not slept in nearly 48 hours and had wanted to go directly to his house and sleep out the whole day.But he had come to the police headquarters to report to his superior officer DGP Ashok kumar and update him on the operation that they were planning thorough which they were going to arrest the sandalwood smugglers.

He took a deep breath and looked at SI shanmugam " has the DGP arrived" to which shanmugam shook his head and replied " he should be in his cabin any moment."

" shanmugam,inform me the minute he comes in.okay.now just order a full flask of hot tea and some biscuits,please."

Arivuselvam dialled the Bishops number and waited for the gentleman to answer and he answered on the third ring" DIG Arivuselvam,thank you for calling back."

" sir,i am sorry i couldnt call you earlier for i was out on a secret operation in the forest and had to maintain strict silence,radio and mobile.That is why,none of my officers were able to inform me about your calls.Please accept my apologies.Tell me sir,how can i help you."

" DIG sir,i am not sure how to go about this problem for i am not even sure if it is a problem yet."

Arivuselvam patiently " sir,it is okay.just tell me the details and i will handle it,big or small."

" One of my priest has gone missing from early yesterday morning or probably the night before that.His name is father john selvakumar."

DIG Arivuselvam " sir,have you informed the local police station that father john is missing."

" Yes.But it was done late last evening for we wanted to wait and see if father john would come back after having taken some emergency trip somewhere" and the words trailed and ended there but in an unfinished manner

From the doubtful way,the bishop said those words,DIG arivuselvam could understand that the bishop himself did not think that father john could have taken off just like that without informing anyone and hence the conversation that he was having right now.

" Sir,there must be a perfectly good reason for father john's absence but still i will contact the kodai police station immediately and find out what action the inspector there is taking in this case and will contact you by afternoon.Please,rest assured that all efforts will be made to find father john and i will personally handle the case myself."

A few minutes later,Arivuselvam poured himself a cup of tea from the flask that had been sent from the nearby famous lakshmi vilas hotel and sipping it,took a bite of biscuit from the small plate and all the while his mind actively sketching various reasons and scenarios in the case of the missing father.

SI shanmugam entered his cabin " sir,the DGP has arrived and is waiting for you."

DIG Arivuselvam nodded and rose from his chair and placing his cap firmly on his head left his cabin and went towards DGP Ashok kumar's cabin.


"When I'm asked 'Are you afraid of the dark?', my answer is 'No, I'm afraid of what is in the dark.'"

What if-the return part 5

Redemption 184

"I've noticed in my life that the people who act as my angels are not some strange angelic creatures that seem almost untouchable, but are more real than that. They are people who have tasted sorrow, who have felt pain, and in a way, that makes them capable of being an angel. In their darkest moments they have become strong."

Weapons of war

Mullah Nasreddin Hodja turned to the west and then falling to his knees sat calmly offering prayers to Allah and then got up and slipped into his robes and suddenly faced the east and stood staring into the forest.

Hurriedly,he looked at Jalaluddin and then at all the soldiers and in a loud voice " we don't have much time and so i am going to tell you what is most important and only what you need to know at this moment."

He stepped closer to the box that had travelled all the way from the land of egypt " this box here contains weapons of unknown origins and i am not very sure how they work.Still,they are the only fighting chance we have against the one who is coming for us and along with her is a tiger."

Jalaluddin in irritation and his protests were joined by the other more senior war generals,veterans of a thousand battles " a woman,a single woman and a tiger and here we stand,nearly 500 of the worlds best warriors.One of us can take down ten or more men in a blink of eye and for nearly fifteen years you have been beating our heads with this so called powerful woman and her tiger."

Mullah Nasreddin Hodja bowed his head slightly " all right,i agree.Now let us do one thing before we proceed and then i will finish what i had begun to explain."

He looked at all of them " how many of you think that you are capable of taking down this woman and that solitary tiger.All those who think they can do that step to one side.Those that think they cannot step to the other side."

The 500 men split into two groups and on one side stood fifty or so men near mullah and the rest numbering 450 along with jalaluddin went to the other side.

Mullah Nasreddin Hodja pointed a finger at Jalaluddin " not you general,for you are the one who leads us all and whose life cannot be put at any sort of risk,even to clear doubts ."

Placing his arm around jalaluddin's shoulders,he walked with him towards the men who thought they could take on the woman and her tiger " General jalaluddin,quickly tell these men as to what or how they should proceed to do battle."

Jalaluddin was slightly taken aback with this sudden request and still he knew what to do for this was not a large army that they were going to face but just two.

He looked at his men " Mullah thinks very lightly of us and our skills.But don't we know better my men,my brothers of what we are truly capable of."

Loud roars of " yes,yes,general."

Jalaluddin thought for a second and then looked at four of his senior men " Alam,Basheer,Ali and muhammed,you will lead four groups of soldiers and will attack from all four sides.I want the best archers to be in the front to launch their arrows as the first assault and then the best of swordsmen will finish the job.But i think the archers will do.So,march ahead and take your positions and stay hidden and wait for my command and the roar from my trumpet.Leave now and use your scouts wisely."

Jalaluddin looked at Mullah who raised his finger to his lips and asked him to remain silent and he and the remaining few dozen warriors stood quietly for nearly ten minutes.

Then Mullah Nasreddin Hodja hurried to the box and slowly began to cut away at the linen wrappings and soon a glittering gold box still shining its precious glow presented itself to all of them.

Jalaluddin " allah be praised.This box alone must be worth a fortune and that is not even taking into account all the rubies,diamonds and sapphires that adorn the entire box."

Mullah Nasreddin Hodja " you might think this golden box and its jewels are precious but what lies inside is even more valuable and you will know its true worth in just a few minutes."

He carefully examined the box and then his wise old eyes caught the star like sun on all sides of the it and gently turned all of them clockwise and with a soft sound the box opened itself.

He stood marvelling at the things that lay inside and then called jalaluddin to his side and asked him to take a look.

General jalaluddin stood intensely staring at the shiny weapons laid lovingly in the box and after a few minutes,he looked at Mullah " wise one,these look like the weapons wielded by gods and his messengers.The metal is neither silver nor polished steel but something else and i am sure it is something new and unheard of."

He reached gently and picked up a long stick like object which a had a small nozzle at one end and on the other was shaped in a triangle and very bulky.Just below it was a kind of box that glowed red.

Jalal looked at mullah nasreddin " wise one,I dont know about the other weapons but this one looks like the ones used by the chinese and also a bit similar to our cannons,although in a different league.I am sure,that out of this hole in this end some form of projectile is ejected,like an arrow from a bow although what its nature is beyond my imagination and knowledge."

Mullah Nasreddin Hodja looked at Jalaluddin " You carry one and these other four pieces should be carried by your best shooters,marksmen who can adapt quickly to these new weapons because we will only get one and if lucky two chances to defeat this woman and then it will be too late."

Jalaluddin looked into the old man's eyes and knew that he was deadly serious and turning to his soldiers,quickly scanned all of them and " Kareem,Abdul,Rasheed and salim step forward and pick up these weapons."

All the four men came forward and picked up the strange looking weapons and stood wondering what their fates had in store for them for they were used to long swords and spears and not these shiny looking toys.But the orders were from their leader and general and there was no refusing him.

Mullah Nasreddin Hodja looked at Jalaluddin " Jalal,i think we are at the end of our journey and soon we will have we have come seeking across oceans and foreign lands."

" wise one,please don't think i am being impertinent for i am not and i mean no offence when i ask you what is it we are really after and what is it that you and the caliph are seeking."

Mullah Nasreddin Hodja " i think the time has come for all of you to know what it is we are after."

" We are after that woman and her son.Both of them are very powerful in body and soul and me and the caliph think that with their help and with both of them by our sides,Islam and the word of the prophet can be spread to become the only word in this world and will be ruled by one great emperor and that is the caliph.

But it is not so easy and i think that we might get the boy but not her,his guardian for she will die before letting that happen.And the same goes to the tiger who will fall before she and the young one."


Then suddenly blood curdling roars and screams of dying men reached their ears and Mullah looked at jalaluddin
" it has started and now you and your warriors can see what that woman and her tiger can do single handedly with your own eyes.Come,let us hurry before it is too late and let us try to at least save a few of our men."

Deep inside the caves,Yeshe woke up from his faint and hurriedly got up to his feet and rushed to the wall of rock which had slid to the side to give them way.

Everyone there,including the monks knew that for yeshe to do what thenmozhi had done with her hands was impossible but yeshe did not even lay his hands on the wall of stone and just closed his eyes and moved it with his mind.

Before anyone could even react or try to stop yeshe,he quickly slid through the small gap and closing it ran towards the entrance and the other wall and opening that he quickly ran through the forest and towards thenmozhi for he knew that he could save his mother and stop all the killing with his words of peace.He ran towards her knowing that he would rather die than let any harm come to her.He ran and as he went towards her,every moment with her from the time they had met,every time she had gone to battle to protect him and the others flashed in his soul and he knew that if it meant the end then he would die with his last breath as she took her last breath.

Mullah Nasreddin Hodja smiled " Jalal,do you remember that prophecy of sufi saint "Qutb al-Din al-Shirazi".

Genaral jalaluddin shook his head " no,why do you ask?"

Mullah looked at him " it is true and it is like what i felt and what was said.Mother and son."


Flashback-Redemption chapter 165 PAGE 98

Thenmozhi gently carried yeshe who had fallen asleep on her lap and took him down to her quarters and lay him in the bed and covered him with a soft quilt.

Later,deep into the night,the monk found thenmozhi standing in the stern of the ship and looking back as if she was trying to see something in the dark of the seas behind them.

' Bhikshuni,what is it? why do you stand at the rear of the ship every night and keep such constant vigil? Can you see some form of threat coming towards us? Are we in immediate danger?'

Thenmozhi with her back still facing the monk whispered ' so many questions and yet you know the answers to all of them.'

She turned and looked at the monk and her senses sped like light and reached into the monks mind and grasped something before he chanted something and clouded it with his own senses.But it was too late and thenmozhi knew that her fears were correct and a slow,burning anger filled her voice.

With restraint ' monk,i am not asking you to trust me and all i am asking you is to share with me the details and knowledge of what is coming after us.I know that you know that something dark and terrible has been pursuing us and sooner than later we will be facing it.So,i ask you for the sake of yeshe's life,what is going on and what is it that is coming after us?'

The monk with a worried expression mumbled ' i thought we were safe.But i was wrong for there seems to be no stopping this force of evil that has been after yeshe from the time he was born and now after land it seems certain that is will catch up eventually and even if we go to the end of the world.'

Thenmozhi remained silent and the monk resigned to the situation ' To understand this darkness that is fast approaching us is to understand the single most important prophecy of a sufi saint "Qutb al-Din al-Shirazi".

' who is he and what is this prophecy?'

Two lights,hidden and out of sight
one light,bright and white of the soul
one light,bright and from the stars
will cross paths and travel as one
together they fill the void
and as one they will be
mother and son
love and war,peace and death
they are never far
through him you reach her
and a new order is born
heaven and hell
fire and water


Thenmozhi absorbed every word and then calmly looked at the monk ' mother and son.Does it have anything to do with me and yeshe?'

The monk shook his head ' i have no idea and honestly i don't know what it means when the prophecy says,one light is from the stars.For then it means some form of angel or god that has descended from the heavens above and we know that is impossible.'

Thenmozhi smiled ' monk,go rest now and let me ponder over this prophecy and riddle.'

later,in the dark of the night and under the stars,Thenmozhi sat still,drowned deep in her thoughts,when the voice whispered ' child,all answers stem and flow from one point and that is you.The answer to this prophecy lies in your past and in your roots.Worry not,for they will come to you at the time you need them the most and when the situation is dire and beyond salvation.'


"In the journey of life, certain paths may seem to be leading nowhere because of a mountain or hill on the way which may seem to be the end of the journey, but should a pilgrim of life climb such a mountain with tenacity and courage and gets to its apex, he would not only deeply feel and understand the tenacity and the courage it takes to climb the mountain, but he would also see ahead and have a clearer picture of the way forward better!"
Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

I found this article on face book through a classmate who i now know for nearly 35 years and i thought all you ladies would like it for i am sure you will see something in it that belongs to your childhood and school years.


We Were Not the Cool Girls or the Mean Girls. No, We Were the Rowdy-Dowdy Dabba Girls


By Apoorva Sripathi

Five years ago, four women met for lunch at an Italian restaurant in Chennai. What was supposed to be a relaxed meal between friends turned into an ugly-crying-finger-pointing-general-yelling session. In a while, we were the last ones left in the restaurant. The fight extended beyond lunch. The waiters seemed mildly interested in our drama, interested enough to stand around watching instead of chasing us out of the restaurant. So much drama. Girl gang drama. What might surprise you was that it was our first round of drama in over ten years of friendship.

American pop culture is really my only source of knowledge of girl gangs. This is probably true for you too. Sweeping past in school corridors parting the masses before them with the sheer power of their social status. Cool Girls. Mean Girls. Those Girls. They come in capitals.

Nothing in pop culture gave us a name. We came in lowercase, we came with stainless steel lunch boxes. We were the dabba girls.

For all the bullying we endured, we went through school years like it was a never-ending Spanish siesta. There was no drama, even in how we became friends and stayed friends.

We were four girls in a school full of " what we remember as " overachieving, attractive and naturally athletic girls, and we came together because no one wanted to hang out with us. We were misfits without the leather jacket rebellion that's supposed to come two-in-one for folks who are Misfits/Rebels/Non-Conformists.

The group became a group in class eight: one pair of us had studied in the same class since prekindergarten and the other pair just a little after that, and we were put into a whole new section with others. We all hated each other at first, I think. I became friends with the girl from the other pair (we later bonded over Shakespeare's Julius Caesar) thanks to our shared affection for books but more due to the embarrassing fact that she remembered seeing me in pigtails and on my tricycle, whizzing down my street. She told me that was her first memory of me and well, I was touched. Naturally, our kindergarten buddies were forced to talk to each other.

What did we have in common? We all wore unflattering glasses. We studied Carnatic music which made our parents' friends approve of us but gave no cachet in school. We were obsessed with Tom Hanks and bad Tamil films. Two of us had shoulder-length hair and the other two grew it out. Our parents were distant and disappointing. We skimmed and frequently dropped below the average at studies. We were fed up with our compulsory swimming lessons " we still don't know why, but I know I took to pushing people inside the pool and eventually the instructor because he had promised not to push me and he quite obviously broke it, as all swimming instructors do. We weren't too enthu in mingling with the other girls in the pool, who were showing off their backstroke and butterfly stroke.

We also hated Colour Dress Day at school " every last Friday of the month. I know that the more I write, the more we sound like an emo band from the 90s " moody, prone to frequent bouts of anger and plenty of black eyeliner. But if only we were that cool.

But the minute we decided to become friends, that week when we were 13, the world became a much, kinder place. We always had each other's backs.

Once, on a dull school day, when the teacher was a few minutes late, we were rendered restless; we watched the usual crumpled paper balls zooming into our faces, everyone's pens were scattered all over the floor surrendering in defeat after a spirited game of pen fight' and we could hear shouts of "dei mama" making their way across the room.

Two of us got up to use the bathroom and a lanky sneering fellow was in our way"he refused to move. We were, in his opinion, a little too unattractive to be made way for. The more calm and genial one among the two just smiled and made up her mind to go all the way till the back, circle the last benches and get out of the classroom. Why fight over something trivial, she reasoned. My hotheaded friend, however, who stands out as the prime example for historian Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's words "well-behaved women seldom make history", fumed and removed one of her old tennis shoes " they were almost yellow " and held it up to his face. Lanky was too stunned to react, and so were we. Usually, the loudest class on the floor (and in the school), we were suddenly silenced. Triumphant, my friends walked hand-in-hand to the bathroom, and Lanky rounded up his friends for moral support to shout some not-so-nice parting words.

The ugly ducklings', it seemed, had their way.

By then we had been friends for years. Nothing would make us glamorous rebels but together we were less afraid, more our weird little selves.

Remember I told you that we hated Colour Dress Day? Colour Dress Day was when when we were allowed to wear "traditional" clothes. We wanted nothing to do with it. In a sea of salwars, saris, pavadai-chattai-davanis and jibba-veshtis, the four of us stood out in our rather drab yellow-and-grey uniforms and dusty shoes. One morning, my wonderful Chemistry teacher (more about her later) walked past us, shook her head in that familiarly disappointed way and said, "Why maaa, you gaels have to rebel like this? Wear some nice clothes no " didn't your parents tell you?" I piped up brightly, "Ma'am we didn't tell them!" It was the last time she tried to make us better our selves.


Another thing that kept us fiercely bound to each other was our predictable, utterly reliable routines. After school, we'd all rush home to change, eat and head to our respective tuition classes. The other three, since they lived in the same area, went to the same teacher for one subject, while I attended mine with a different classmate. When we'd come back to school the next day, I'd be clueless of everything that took place in their tuitions " they were with the popular kids so naturally they were privy to some high-quality gossip. Between the four of us the only gossip we could muster was about whether the new Vikram film made the cut or not. Or whose mother made what snacks for Deepavali " your murukku has more butter, mine's a little dry, I suppose. We needed other gangs for drama and gossip. I went to the same tuition class as my school seniors and so I came armed with a different kind of gossip, one that was more adult-y, more kosher. But I was secretly jealous of the other three, albeit a little. Mostly, I was just waiting to hear more gossip about fellow classmates. And I wasn't disappointed.


Class nine. The now-familiar soundtrack of our lives " the importance of next year's board exams " was now running on full-volume. It didn't matter whose house we were spending time in. Out of embarrassment and in an attempt to avoid lengthy conversations about my future, I almost always studied a good two-to-three days before my exams " I was consistently an average student. I did well only in English and Sanskrit. On the side though, I was recruited by my Sanskrit teacher along with friend number 3 to participate in Bhagavad Gita competitions. They were the only competitions I ever won. On weekends when we used to go for said classes, friend number 3 and I would have the most fun. When we were put in charge of the juniors, we'd bunk classes and go for strolls at the park nearby, arrange water fights to cool down during the summer or take naps under the asbestos sheet on the terrace.

After a set of exams (unit tests, perhaps), our class teacher, who also taught us chemistry, pulled aside friends 2 and 3 and me and told us not to hang out with friend number 4, who was struggling with studies. Apparently, her low marks in most subjects would transfer through our friendship and into our papers and soon, we'd be failing in class too. We were shocked. Our attitude had been to help her however we could. She sang beautifully, had oiled hair, wore a pottu everyday and breathed Carnatic music. She was friend number 4 in the gridlock that kept us safe in the world. The teacher's Darwinian instructions left us sad, angry, dumbfounded. It also put us in a big quandary. Should we tell friend number 4 and make her sad too?

She did find out eventually. Red-eyed, tear-stricken friend number 4 wanted to take herself out of the equation. As if board exams in Chennai was a World War 2 movie. Go on without me. Save yourselves. Many days of consoling and reminding her what our friendship had been through " lonely field trips, bonfires and school projects (my class had deemed us too uncool to "sit with them") " she calmed down. The four of us were back again.


By the time we were 15, lunch became the only time in school where we could catch up freely with the day's events. While the rest of the school milled about, moving from class to class, standing in line at the canteen or sitting on the stairs, the four of us confined ourselves to our seats at the back, opening our dabbas and indulging in some light chatter or heavy strategising " often figuring how to tackle our English teacher.

Our English teacher, like our Chemistry teacher, harboured a resentment towards us. How is it that four rowdy-meets-dowdy back benchers did well in English? Outwardly, we seemed disinterested; friend number 3 was infamous for forgetting to bring her textbook, friend number 4 tried her best to listen often ended up lightly snoozing in that post lunch class, and friend number 2 and I were so consumed by Shakespeare that we had our own party (approximate usage of the word) at the back.

The routine roughly went like this: once the teacher entered, she'd always ask us to turn to a page number, following which friend number 3 would sit nonchalantly at her seat and try to look her best to be occupied. The teacher would question the whereabouts of my friend's book before sending a smirking friend number 3 out of the class. She would gleefully give us a thumbs up on her way out and we'd try our best to not guffaw. The teacher would then proceed with her class. If friend number 2 and I wanted to answer a question, waved our hands in the air frantically, we'd be met with a disdainful stare from said teacher and towards the end of the class, would pick on us for not attempting to take part in class. Soon, I started joining my friend outside the class, the pair of us looking too happy to be punished.


What if I hadn't met the other three? Sometime in class seven, there was a glimmer of a school life that may have gone another way.

The popular girls looked at me during lunch one day. They invited me to join them on their bench as I had a white-out pen to share.

In class 7, I was doing badly in school. Clumps of my hair fell out every time I touched it. Sometimes it fell out in class. I had no one to talk to. But with the white-out pen for half an hour I imagined erasing the dabba girl and starting over.

What happened next, as they say, will surprise you. Or perhaps it won't. We were already learning to live by our report cards.

Somewhere in that hour, one of the popular girls handed everyone else in the class report cards tabulating their coolness factor for the month, and one of the criteria included grades, the others being the hipness of the music we listened to, the variety of lunch we brought to school...

For the first time in my 12-year-old lifetime I realised that being by myself wasn't so bad after all. If I had to fill in a report card to be cool, I couldn't afford it. I threw away my white-out pen. The next day, when I was asked for it, I shrugged and showed them my sparse pencil case. No one wanted to talk to me anymore.


Teenage courtship in my school was wildly dramatic. Perhaps it's the same everywhere? One lunch hour, a senior stood outside our class 9 classroom and ordered one of the four of us to ask the "prettiest girl in the class to come out". I recall my expression being close to W*F before walking away. But the boy wasn't thwarted by our rejecting his errand. He walked in with the swagger of a determined Tamil hero, knelt down before the "prettiest girl" and asked her out. We mimicked vomiting for a few minutes and threw our heads back and laughed. Boss, kneeling down is to ask for hand in marriage in the movies, and even that was overrated, we said loudly to each other. Not that anyone heard.

Hey, we were not haters. We'd have even liked to be lovers. It's just that all our crushes amounted to nothing " we were queens of unrequited love and our objects of affection were either disinterested in us or interested in someone else. Friends number 2 and 3, the sneaky beings, never admitted their crushes to us; they claimed they never had any, something us other two serial-crusher selves found hard to believe.

In fact, the pinnacle of drama in our friendship happened in class 9 when for a few days where it seemed like friend number 4 and I had a crush on the same guy. We had a few moments of heartburn and incensed arguments. Then we realised we weren't even talking about the same boy. The one I liked was skinny and tall and she had her eye on a round jolly-type person. We had just pointed out to a clump of guys and giggled and said "the guy who is really good at basketball". End of cliffhanger.


We never listened to our parents, but board exams really did change our lives. Just not in the way our parents were warning us about. The board exams were the last time all four of us were in a classroom together. Friend number 4 transferred to another school, friend number 2 went to a different class. Friend number 3 and I continued together, taking our association from nursery till class 12.

In class 12, friend number 3 and I became lab partners (for physics, chemistry and computer) and we worked on making dyes for our final chemistry project. I don't know about my friend, but I was perhaps a little too enthusiastic about it. Five years after the project, I still had vintage camera roll containers filled with dye samples: a moody blue, yellow and orange azo dyes; I had to throw them out only because they were getting mouldy. If I had my way, they'd have travelled with me from Chennai to Mumbai and then Bangalore, finding a special place in my bookshelves.

Making our beautiful dyes stained our hands and our uniforms. But never our lab coats. For some reason, they were pristine white, save for cigarette-like holes caused by standing too close to the Bunsen burner or playing with matchsticks.

After Chemistry lab we were always late for the next one. When our incensed Mathematics teacher demanded explanations, we'd show her our hands and inform her that we'd come to just drop our books and that we'd really need to scrub the dyes off, eat lunch and then attend her class. I think the boys of my class " usually considered the troublesome monkeys " were nonplussed as to how two uncool characters got away with it each time. We'd just say our lines and dash away before we could be stopped. Who'd want to stop us?


After that big fight at the Italian restaurant " we were around 23 " I thought about the other girl gangs in school. The picturesque Mean Girls clique of my class went through many friendship breaks-ups over their years in school. The fights were all dramatic and entertaining, at least to us voyeurs. We never ever found out what they fought over " perhaps boys, grades and fleeting coolness " but when a fight broke out, the four of us consumed it like you'd watch primetime television, making mental notes to discuss once school was over. Occasionally during big breakups, estranged cool girls would talk to us. Separated, they seemed human and surprisingly articulate on bad Tamil films in the 90s. Together, they pretended regional films and music didn't exist " if you weren't listening to the Backstreet Boys, NSYNC or Guns n Roses, you might as well have been extinct.

Our friendship, which survived in the high school ecosystem, didn't survive out of it. The original pairs that came together didn't survive, and we started speaking to the one we were actually comfortable speaking to.

The four of us are no longer as close now as we were seven years back, and hearing this made me wonder if we had metamorphosed into the popular girls " we finally had our share of drama, three years after school.

At that Italian restaurant: friend number 4 was incensed that friend number 2 had been going through something major in her life but had decided to not share much with us. Friend number 3 and I shrugged and got back to moodily picking our pizza, but a few minutes later we all got into it and all of us cried.

http://theladiesfinger.com/uncool-girls/

This link will lead you to the article