*From & To Sathish* - Thread 4 - Page 57

Good morning. I wish you a beautiful day.

Yesterday morning, my PC monitor literally died with a bang and the sound was loud enough to have me jump up a few feet in the air. Then, i hid behind the chair waiting if there was any more bangs coming with smoke effects. Thankfully no and so after a long time,no computer.

2.30 in the morning and with a steaming mug of coffee for company, i fretted and fumed and after a few minutes decided to do something useful.

The book " words to live by " caught my eye and i mumbled " i know what words are needed right now" and cursing, picked up the book and lost myself. I had become so fixated with my morning time that it had crept up and made me an addict.

Posting pics with my thoughts and sharing my memories had somehow become a need and so i asked myself " why and to what end? " and struggled with the answers. Today, right now, i am typing this on my phone, for my computer pal Ashok is going to solve my problem later today.

The author of the book was EKNATH EASWARAN and there were twelve chapters. Yes, you guessed right, 12 months and the book was filled with words needed for every day of every month and for the whole year.

I smirked and opened and the very first page stated boldly " of all that is wonderful in the human being, our most glorious asset is the capacity to change ourselves". Well, need i say more.

The broken computer was forgotten and hopefully other broken stuff too will be forgotten, i hope and pray with complete faith. A broken computer can be fixed and likewise a broken life and soul too can be fixed and all we have to do is let go and surrender.

To God, To life and to destiny and surrender all that we think we know, and hope to know. In my own experience, i learnt that " Ego and Self " was my biggest failing and falling. I learnt the beauty of saying sorry and also the peace in surrender and i do it everyday by saying " cool, this too shall pass.

The darkness will give way to light and then light will give way to dark. We come to go and go to come." Heaven and hell on earth and in my soul and i see now that i am heaven and hell myself and it is up to me to make my choice.

Happy weekend my fellow souls and travellers. I give you my wishes, hopes and prayers.

Good morning. I wish you a beautiful day. All the very best.

Sunday, yesterday was really a Sun day and even at 6.00 in the morning, it felt the Sun was getting closer and closer as the summer is winding its way into June and July. No gym, so it was walk but not my usual haunt of Marina beach for JP aka Jayaprakash had messaged me that he was coming over by 6.45 am to the beach. Jp, a once constant in our beach had shifted away after his wife's retirement and now sadly managed to make it once a month or twice a month as his time permitted.

I thought of doing two rounds around Besant nagar and then hook up with JP and then bumped into Junior Ram murthy mama who is about then years younger than senior Ram murthy mama and so decided to walk with him.

A thin, frail looking man but incredibly strong of body and soul and my encounters with him always leave me feeling good and better than I was before. For his lean and frail looking physique, his handshake leaves me with bent and nearly broken fingers and I quack like a duck after the handshake, in pain and telling myself ' not again sat'.

Mundane, cliched conversation and so I asked the mundane and cliched questions and then it was not mundane anymore.

More than ever, I have learnt not to judge or try to understand or fix a mental picture of a person in one or many meetings and have now learnt to accept each and every one as what they project and appear as or want to.

Every person, every life, every soul is a classical Raaga, a song that might have been written and sung or just written but not yet sung and waiting to be sung or maybe never.

I casually asked him ' how are you coping for food?' and he replied with a smile ' easy sir. just one thoran, one poriyal and some rice.that's it.'

Ramu maama is from a village near Palakkad and is an highly educated man and retired as an engineer.

' Must be boring cooking for yourself ramu maama' and he shook his head ' no, my wife is always there to tell me what to do and how to do and watches over me, probably banging her head in despair as i destroy the kitchen. But, I am doing much better now satish for I have nearly twenty or more years of practice in the kitchen and I can proudly say that I am a pretty good cook.'

He looked at me ' In fact, when I go to stay with my only daughter in Singapore, I do the cooking and help out when she takes time to cook.'

Seeing my expression, he nodded ' all my wife's training and recipes. For, although it has been more than 20 years since she died of liver failure in her 40's, she has remained with me in spirit' and gently patting his chest ' she is here and will be here until I go.'

Just another sunday walk and i was witness to a beautiful love story.

They say, you need two hands to clap and make a noise.

I say, you can slap your chest and make a noise.

They say two lives, two souls, two lovers make a song.

I say, one is enough,one is more than enough and will do.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mBQQraAVBPA

KalyanaParisu 2 - Tamil Serial | கல்யாணபரிசு | Episode 1589 | 25 May 2019 | Sun TV Serial

I think, maybe, just maybe, i still havent lost my acting skills. I welcome your thoughts and feelings.

Jannal Oram 295

“Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.” ― Mahatma Gandhi

Raman lay wide awake, holding the now fast asleep Jeeva who had snuggled into the curve of his right arm and not wanting to disturb her, he lay thinking about everything.

But, more than anything, his thoughts were full of kavita and her family and the supposedly infatuation she had holding on to all these years.

' We men are really stupid creatures and maybe the women are right when they see us as just bumbling zombies. For, how could I have missed knowing that she held such feelings for me and that too for all this time' he thought and then whispered a sorry to Kavita for judging her love as infatuation.

' God only knows, how difficult it must be to love and not be loved in return' thought Raman and his soul full of Vijay and Kavita, he too drifted away into a deep and restful sleep.

The gentle and original ringtone of his Mobile phone brought him out of his sleep and reaching for it, Raman answered the call ' Hello Kavita, all well' and she replied ' All well Raman and as well it can be if that is what well and wishes are all about'.

' I am sorry for my automatic greeting Kavita. But, the time is just 5.00 am and hence that response.Sorry ma. tell me, how are you holding up and how is your dad doing?'

' We are okay and just about hanging on to the edge of the rope and I am not sure when my strength is going to give out.'

Raman heard her tears and stayed quiet rather than try and console her for it was better he thought that she let it all out instead of staying inside and damaging her mind.

' Raman, Vijay's funeral has been fixed for today evening at the Mylapore electric crematorium. The body will be taken from our house to the party headquarters by 11.00 am for the party members and the public to pay their respects.'

' What time do you want me to be there kavita?'

' As soon as possible ram for it is not only me but my whole family that needs you and your strength.'

Raman in a soft voice ' I am always there for you and your family Kavita and I will be there by 11.30 at the most for I am going to visit Mohan in the hospital.'

' Mohan, which Mohan Ram' and he replied ' Suja's fiance Kavita who was involved in an accident at the same time that she left us all. He seems to have come out of his coma and has been repeatedly saying both Sujas and my name.'

Kavita laughed sadly and with a voice tinged with wonder ' coma and still he takes sujas name. That shows how much he loves her.'

' well, he is been saying my name too kavita.'

Kavita softly and slowly ' Again, that shows how much he loves, respects you and knows that you will avenge Sujas death,like we both will avenge Vijay's death.'

Raman in a steely voice ' I will, we will and it is a promise.'

' See you soon Ram and thanks for everything.'

Kavita ended the call but held on to the phone as if she could hear him breathe and as if she could feel his lips through the phone. The pain of loving him was unbearable and she slowly sank to her bed and laid her head on the pillow and began to cry her heart out.

Raman ended the call and Jeeva mumbled sleepily ' who was it baby?' and he answered ' Kavita calling to inform us about the funeral that has been fixed for later in the evening.'

' We will all go together Ram and pay our respects to Vijay before he leaves home and from there we will go to see Mohan in the hospital.'

Good morning. I wish you all a beautiful day. All the very best.

“Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.” ? Mahatma Gandhi

I try desperately to pin-point that exact moment when I come awake, when my senses kick in and make me aware of my surroundings and importantly my self. Who am i? what am i? where am i? More desperate are my vain and inept means to hold on to the thought that was a dream and like water through fingers they slip away and soon dry and vanish into air.

Another day,Another journey and I sit up quietly so as not to wake up the still slumbering soul that lies huddled under the sheets and tip-toe and kick-start my routine.

It is there, from that moment on, a race against time,in which I have to post a chapter in my forum Blog, pick and choose pics and tunes and I look up it is nearing 5.00 am.

' peeping tom, sleepy joe, waking giant among thousands of birds on their wings' and my date with them all is the burning thirst, ache as i run through the agendas.

I don't know why, when or how but it is there, this need for my daily tryst, date with the dawn.

Maybe,inside I secretly ache to shed yesterdays skin, needs,pain, thoughts and bruises and rise with the rising sun and maybe imbibe a bit of its glory.

For me, every sunrise is a time for singing, writing, creating, composing as I am doing right now.

The peeping pink of a sun is like an infant, a new born rising to its teens as it changes from pink to orange to yellow and then suddenly it turns a blazing white of an adult.

We rise to set. from dawn to dusk. From arrival to departure.There seems to be a rhythm,a composition for everything in this universe.

The tune is called the " morning mood" by the Norwegian composer Edvard Hagerup Grieg 15 June 1843 – 4 September 1907 and it is a part of his Peer Gynt composition.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TomLbGb6AI

Good morning. I wish you a beautiful day. All the best.

The sight halted my walk and the strange sight was, a black pulsar standing on one wheel leaning for support against the wall that stretched into the nearby police station.

I can guess hopefully, what your thoughts are and trust me that they were mine too. A two-wheeler is meant to be on two wheels and briefly on one wheel when a stunt is being pulled by trained people or else the person trying the very same will fall hard on his bum. That aside, a bike on one wheel and resting or should I say languishing casually against the wall is not an usual sight.

The past two days, i have begun to walk after my gym routine to cool down and also generally cos i love walking and so my feet walked around Mico colony and took me past our local police station. My thoughts on seeing all the bikes and cars that were involved in all sorts of cases are " the dead belong in the grave yard and not next to the living even if they are barely alive."

But, cars slightly damaged, minor scrapes, bikes with insignificant damage lie wheel to wheel with twisted and mangled vehicles. Together, they rust in peace and fray and break down in rubber. But, even in their ruined state, they become a mini ecosystem and provide safe haven for all sorts of lives from Rats,squirrels,pups,kittens etc.

Have you noticed off late the posters that have young men ranging from years 16 to 22, smiling at you but with the words " kanneer Anjali" written boldly along with their DOB. I always stop for it breaks my heart to see young lives lost although they lost it themselves and in a way that you can term suicide. Rash driving, over speeding, wrong lanes, lane cutting without signal and lastly and most importantly without helmet.

If the young men of today who drive two wheeler's do not realize and understand the dangers then it is up to the authorities to make them understand that. Serious punishments for traffic violations of any sort will get everyone's attention me thinks. Hefty fines ranging from 5,000 to 1 Lakh will surely make everyone be on their best behavior. Freedom, rights are all good but temporary insanity is not and surely not road rage and bad driving habits.

I feel that this nations citizens have to be led by a firm and strict hand and brought to their senses. What else is the way for it has been 72 years since we got our freedom and nobody seems to have a clue as to what it is or its value truly is. And now the poor Mahatma himself is being placed on the stand and is being questioned about the whys and hows of his actions.

Good morning. I wish you a beautiful day.

In the name of the God

Symbols, symbolic and maybe simple minded indeed and yet the peace and wellness that springs forth from my inner core is addictive enough for me to diligently do my daily religious rituals. I think that the vaccum that came from losing my parents was such a shock and emotional tsunami that I think that my mind blanked it out

(PTSD) and yet out of them came lot of angst, stress and strain that left me a raging maniac until my mid 20s and although it has nearly died down, my peers tell me that the demons have been exorcised and quelled but not killed.

I took on a stern, imposing and scary God as my father, Guru and guide and am happy to have adopted him and I hope that he is happy with adopting me. Lord Shiva has been nearly a constant anchor, conscience, mentor in my life from 1995 and the relationship has gotten better and we talk less and convey more through thought.

I grew up with Ganesha, Shakti, Narayana and hardly ever saw Shiva and like my lost dad, he to was lost and a largely mysterious entity to me although I knew that his family for whom we had a place in the Pooja room was all due to him.

His wife, his kids, his brother-in-law were all well taken care of and yet the master, the man, the source was quietly and rather glaringly out of the picture.

When I was a kid,I was repeatedly told that Shiva was a terrible god, an angry god, difficult to please and appease and demanded a lot of ones attention and importantly discipline.

My eyes wide open, knees trembling when ever I passed him accidentally, I began to give him a wide berth and yet 1995 our paths crossed and we came face to face and well.

Over the years, I have been told many times 'You should not have the dancing Nataraja idol in your pooja room. You should not have the Shiva linga in your Pooja room. You should be clean, very clean when you worship lord shiva etc,etc.'

My mind voice ' Sethu pona, dead people oda photos housla thongalam. Aana kadavulnu vantha problem.'

Who place these restrictions? Who made these rules? who tells you how to worship and who to worship and the ways to worship?

My mind voice ' I don't need to be told how to love my parents and those that are dear to me. My conscience is enough and that will do.'

I have blessed with luck to have a few flowering trees around the houses that I have been living in over the years and they bless me with a few flowers for my daily pooja.

So, after my writings, postings, mumblings, it is off to my daily duties at about 4.30 am or so and then lighting the lamp, cleaning the altar, placing a small bowl of milk for the gods ( Avallavu thaan budgetu) whispering " people, please don't fight over the milk" and then dressing up and going out to pick flowers which sometimes are a flood of yellow, pink and red on the trees,and sometimes a few, very few spots of bulbs in the darkness.

I am sure it is my imagination caused by the early onset of dementia, but sometimes, the gust of wind that places the hidden flowering branches in my reach are not just fate but destiny. For the flower or me or for both.

In the nearly pitch darkness, " TOM,TOM" my friendly neighbourhood cat takes it upon him at that time to rub himself against my legs, making my go " Amma pei " and jumping a record high jump and long jump in the exact same moment and in the same movement. Impossible but try getting the brass scared out of you, and then we will talk.

The most embarrassing thing is that he seems to do it just when all the other cats are seated on the wall as audience with their green eyes shining in the night as emeralds and with their mouths wide open and I am now pretty sure that they are laughing their livers out at the spectacle.

I learnt something about myself during these flower picking times and it was many a year ago. I was choosing and picking the flowers very carefully when a small tendril holding a flower that seemed rather crooked and bent kept grazing my hand as if beckoning me to pick it up and I kept ignoring it saying that it was too ugly for the pooja room.

Some of the really well grown flowers kept out of my reach and leaving me cursing ' don't you think your fate will be better served in the pooja room than hanging out here, drying up and then falling to the ground.'

The flowers replied ' poda dei, adha avaru, kadavul sollatum. nee sollathe. You are trying to pick us for your needs and ends towards your rituals and worship.'

Well, that shut me up and not knowing what to say and without any quick comeback, I stood awakened and ashamed when the same tendril with the rather twisted and bent flower caressed me, whispering ' please, please pick me up and I will go with you happily.'

I sighed and gently broke the stalk and the flower came willingly into my palm and again the winds of destiny bent the other branches low and into my reach and saying a loud thank you, I picked the other flowers who had now gone mute and silent.

I wish you all a great Friday and a great weekend. God bless all of us.

And my extra love, prayers, wishes, and hopes to a special few who are right now fighting, battling with terrible forces and foes and I tell you ' stand tall and swing away you brave souls and stay fighting and remember that you are not alone and you were never alone.

In you I trust and In you I am

At many points, important junctions in our lives, standing at the crossroads between death and life, sanity and insanity, we have screamed quietly in our soul, lifting our eyes seeking answers, grace and deliverance from our mistakes, sins and even our very life.

I have done that, many a time and still do it often enough but now with a knowing smirk that says to my God ' I trust in you and I know that you will not abandon your own child and creation'.

But, there have been many a times when I have let loose foul curses at God,broken down more in anger and out of frustration and screamed my questions at him ' Why me? why does it have to be me always? why the frying pan or the fire? Don't I get more chances and choices?'.

A semblance of an answer, a realization began sometime in 1993 or maybe it was 1994 when I went alone to pay my respects to my friend, mentor, Godfather the late and eternally great Marcus aka Marcus Bartley.

Diabetes and the urge to down sweets finally caught up with him and he suffered a lot before passing on.

He was laid to rest in the rather beautiful Kilpauk cemetery and one day I just went to see him, be with him and talk to him.

You guessed right and I did curse God for putting Marcus through life's rough and painful paces before taking him into heaven and after nearly an hour of solitude I looked up to witness one of the most beautiful sights that I would ever see again in my life.

Of course, I was seated and of course I did take permission from the lady who was beneath my backside and I don't think she would have minded and was probably glad for the company, even if it was just my sorry sad sack bum.

If you are not familiar with the kilpauk cemetery, let me paint in words for you and using just lots of neem trees, shade, plenty of shade through which the sun, the eye in the sky finds it difficult to find its way down.

I looked up and say the morning light as golden rays streaming through the leaves, branches in various sizes and they seemed rooted to the ground and graves.

" Beam me up scotty" were the first words that came to my mind for it did seem as if the rays were lanes, paths made by God and which connected heaven and earth and through which the recently departed were traveling back home and to where it all started.

If I am not wrong, mistaken and no I am not high on anything but life when I tell you, that once, twice, maybe more we all stand among Mother natures scenic shows, displays and feel one with the cosmos and feel united and a part of all that is called life and all that is called death.

Sitting next to the grave of Marcus, I said goodbye and began to walk back to my bike and as always halted at the tiny gravestones of tiny bodies of tiny babies that lay inside.

If I thought that Marcus and many of loved ones had a tough time before leaving, then this was beyond any understanding for the graves were of tots, lives that lasted one day, two days and a few more.

I look back from the 21st century of color and media and back to 1972 and back to the time when my kid brother Navin was alive and to the time when he died of cancer at the age of 3 and yes, he struggled before dying and having no clue as to what was happening to him and why it was happening to him.

To this day, the voice whispers ' why not? why not them? why not you? why not?'

At this moment, this very moment, a few of beautiful souls, good and kind souls are fighting with cancer and are putting up a brave fight and I hope and pray that they come through.

There comes a time when all the money in the world, the best doctors and treatments don't work out and what works out is faith, pure, unadulterated faith in life and the one who made all this possible.

I pray for your well-being, recovery and a longer and peaceful life.

Well, as to the others, the same goes you fellow souls and travelers. God bless all of us.

Birth, life, death. Baby, toddler, kid, teen, adult, old.

Creche, preschool, school, college, work.

love ( lucky ones), marriage, married, happy and sad, widow and widower.

Set routine does make one's life productive and less chaotic and yet many a time feels mundane and cliched. If your Avatar is one inside your house it is something else outside it. Life surely is a great drama with most of us belting out amazing performances that are more than Oscar worthy.

Amazing because unlike films where they wash off their makeup and get out of the characters they are playing, most of us wake up and go to bed in character. Outer body experience and you stand a mute witness to what is being done to your body and soul.

That outer body bit of your essence is your trust fund, Insurance policy for you to get through life in one piece, hopefully. That part, that you have set aside from the time you became an adult is what is called safe house and you can exist with your own name and with an identity of your own choice.

I use that safe zone to talk to myself, judge my actions and words and also punish myself when i have hurt somebody knowingly or unknowingly and even when they deserved it. Importantly, more than sympathize others, i have learnt to empathize with myself and have learnt that life is tough and it is okay to fall, f..k up and that, what matters is the end in the end.

Take it easy policy. Be kind to yourself. Don't judge yourself so harshly. For sometime now, i have learnt, imbibed the above mentioned traits for before that i kept condemning myself to the gallows without putting myself before a judge for my actions.

Now, i know better and that my actions are only reactions to other actions of other lives. In the end, it is this vicious cycle of action and reaction and again action that keeps this damn life and suffering to go on and on.

Stop acting, stop reacting and just retreat to your safe avatar and to your own life and world.

Good morning. I wish you a beautiful day.

Woman

To, all you women, you beautiful mothers

mothers who carry life in their wombs

mothers who carry love in their souls

mothers who feed, nourish not only from their breasts

but with every inch of their bodies

and with every beat of their hearts