*From & To Sathish* - Thread 4 - Page 80

Jannal Oram 394

V.K.Singh looked at Raman who said 'there was no time for you and our team to go to each of the places and make a thorough check for bombs and other dangers. So, I sent an audio message to the Commissioner and asked our team to co-ordinate with the Chennai police department in defusing any bombs that the killer might have left in place as a nasty surprise for all of us.'

V.K.Singh nodded and accepted his explanation and then asked ' But why wasn't I at least kept in the loop Ram?'

' well sir, first of all we were coming here and going to be tracking this man and doing that in absolute radio silence and secondly the Chennai police department has far superior resources at their disposal and they were there on hand and ready and totally prepared after the bomb blasts in the hospital and in the commissioners office.'

V.K.Singh smiled and exchanged a knowing look with Brigadier Sooryanarayanan ' son, you cannot tell a lie even if you did your best and even if it meant your life. So, out with the truth.'

Raman's expression was like that of a boy who had been caught red-handed with his paws in the cookie jar and flashing them an embarrassed smile ' sir, both the bomb blasts had left the Chennai police department in a bit of shambles and a loss of morale and it showed them in a rather poor light when we all know that this states police department is one of the best in the country. Soooooo'

V.K.Singh ' so, you helped your city police and the commissioner with leads and also told him to take the press and tv along as they defused the bombs and knowing the commissioner, he would have made a grand show of the whole thing and would not have stopped with that. right ram.'

Brigadier Sooryanarayan smiled ' He must have called the chief minister and shown him all the bombs and weapons and now all the tv channels must be filled with images and reports on how the Chennai city police under the chief minister's guidance have vanquished the terrorist threats that this beautiful city had faced.'

Raman smiled ' Gentlemen, I have just one reply for that and which is.'

சொர்க்கமே என்றாலும் அது நம்மூரைப் போல வருமா

அட எந்நாடு என்றாலும் அது நம் நாட்டுக்கீடாகுமா

பல தேசம் முழுதும் பேசும் மொழிகள்

தமிழ் போல் இனித்திடுமா

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lhmIH3gYaHg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHp-0DXFRKA

Jannal Oram 395

Though love and hatred are as opposites as fire and water, yet do they sometimes subsist in the breast together towards the same person; nay by their very opposition and desire to destroy each other, are they strengthened and increased. Fulke Greville, 1st Baron Brooke

The smell from the decomposed body of the woman in the grave hit their senses and all of them recoiled at the stench that was unbearable and both V.K.Singh and the Brigadier pinched shut tightly their nostrils.

The loud roar of Raman ' STOP, DON'T MOVE AN INCH ' shook all of them and they all looked at him.

Raman slowly walked towards the grave where two of the army commandos were about to bring the body of Gulab out of the grave, so that it along with Jamun could be carried away and stood over them and said

' Slowly, very slowly, step away and move away from the grave.'

He looked at the other four commandos and said ' Remove your kevlar vests and give all of them to me. He then looked at the other two commandos who had scrambled out of the grave and they too removed their vests, and handed it to Raman who whispered ' All of you step back and I mean it, right now.'

He laid all six vests on the body of Gulab and slowly lowered himself into the grave and lifting the blue sheets reached slowly into it and then sighed a huge sigh of relief.

V.K.Singh from ten feet away ' Ram, WTF is wrong with you lad. What if it had really been a bomb?'

Raman peeled away the sheets and stood looking at the two plastic-wrapped packages and with a smile replied ' Well, I would be dead and I wouldn't know about it or worry too much about it, General. Only the living worry about the dead and dying while the dead are at peace finally and in Heaven or Hell, who knows.'

Raman picked up the large package and displayed it to all of them ' The hard disks from the CCTV footage from the apartment complex where my master was attacked along with the hard disks from Vijaya Hospital.'

He then picked up a large screen mobile and saw that it had no sim card so it could not have been used to trigger a bomb via a phone call. Raman quickly went through the mobile settings and found just one video file, a large one of nearly 30 minutes.

He pressed on it and the screen filled with the tight close-up of a handsome man and the night air was filled with the rather beautiful voice of the killer called Dhanraj Malik aka Jamun.

' Raman, so I must be dead and I am sure that you killed me. Congratulations. Nothing matters anymore to me and Gulab whose real name is Sharmilee. Mr.Raman, please can you do me a favor. I am not bothered what you will do with my body but I am worried about my dead Gulab, sir. Please, give her a good burial with the proper rituals and let her be in peace, now, that she is dead. Poor child, she was never at peace in life and has seen and suffered a lot throughout her childhood and teen life.

Raman, I see you for the kind and decent soul that you are, something that I was once but then it all changed when I was in the army.'

Raman paused the video and looked at V.K.Singh who nodded and said ' keep it. It was meant for you, and only for you.'

V.K.Singh's mobile phone vibrated and he picked it up and went ' whaat? when? but, this is great news. Thank you so much, Otto. I am in the middle of something and I will call you once I am done. Bye.'

He screamed and roared his happiness and then hugged Brigadier Sooryanarayanan and then looked at Raman ' that b..t..d Abbas Khan has been killed along with many other IS terrorists in Syria.'

He pointed to his mobile 'That was Dr.Otto Hauptmann, head of Mossad who just called with the great news. Apparently, after their leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi had been killed by US forces, the IS secretly met to elect a new leader and were being watched by both the Israeli and American forces and once their secret meeting place was discovered, a fleet of drones dropped carpet bombs over a 10 acre area and destroyed the whole place.'

Sighing with relief, he continued ' thank god for that and that is one less headache and one less thing to worry about.'

He looked at Raman ' I think you have brought us a lot of good luck my boy.'

Raman held his broken ribs and slowly moaning in pain ' But looks like my body has run out of the same good luck, boss. Please, can you take me to a hospital and get me cleaned up for my people will have a heart attack if they see me like this.'

It took about ten minutes for two army choppers to reach them and soon the whole area was swarming with the brave souls of the Indian army.

They placed Raman in a stretcher and the moment he was placed in it, he drifted away into a deep sleep. He could only vaguely remember, doctors and nurses tending to him in the Army hospital and then feel into a deep sleep and much-needed sleep.

His last words were to V.K.Singh and they were ' wait for me and not until I am there.'

Raman slept like a baby and then he heard his name being called and opening his eyes saw a strange glow filling his soul and he smiled ' Suja, are you okay ma?'

Suja stood there ' I am okay Ram. Go to sleep for it is over and you will not be seeing me anymore.'

Raman began to cry in his sleep and softly whispered her name ' Suja, Suja ' who vanished into the light and then someone else took her place and he saw his Vijay standing there with his arms folded and with a loving smile shining on his face. It was more than he could bear, and Raman really began to cry.

Soft hands, loving hands gently lifted his head and placed it on her lap and then her lips covered his and she breathed into him and Raman slowly drifted back to another bout of deep sleep and in the loving protection of Jeeva who lulled him with her sweet whisperings and all was well that had not been well.

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

Jannal Oram 396

Welcome, to the final passages, last hours, end moments of Jannal Oram and I hope to come back and welcome you with more stories about love, emotions, daily struggles and all that makes and plagues us, 21st-century humans.

The days are passing by, gathering forces in numbers as weeks, flowing steadily as a mighty river in months and crashing with the end days of December and bursting forth in a frothy January of a new year.

I like you think, wonder and hope as to what each new year will bring forth from the soil of life and excitedly look with my eyes and soul laid open to the sprouts of new life and new journeys.

But, each year is the same, has been the same as the old and the same plants of old memories from old seeds have sprouted on a yearly basis. The hard work done in the previous months will make for a decent harvest in the new year and so sustenance and maintenance of the body is taken care of, barely.

As to that, the soul, the child, the man, and its sustenance and maintenance is another story altogether and it is where I sometimes did stumble but not now and in the recent past.

Every year is a window, a doorway, a passage into my soul that I slam shut and close all its stimuli and that which were catalysts. But, only a bit of trace minerals, vitamins are taken in and absorbed for the new year.

Less talk. More solitude. More pondering. More searching and more of all that which is the highway that leads back to my soul and my essence.

Who am I? What am I? Why am I?

These questions that used to be a rather fluid state have now begun to solidify and I am learning more about myself and the most important lesson that I have learnt is that almost all my problems stem from my reaction, over-reactions to others actions and also their reactions.

From a raging tempest to a now a more steady breeze, I hope that I someday will be a gentle breeze.

Raman's eyes flickered open and he began to panic, feeling his chest being constricted in a tight grip and then his brain caught up with his soul and together began to feed him information about himself and his surroundings.

He smiled for he now remembered being lifted aboard into an army helicopter in a stretcher with both V.K.Singh and Brigadier Sooryanarayanan hovering around him. He began to recollect the moments that he was rushed into the army hospital where everybody seemed to be waiting for him.

All the pain, the tiredness, memories, killings, losses, and tragedies had drowned in the clouds of the anesthesia that entered his body with the prick of a needle and then Raman had drifted away into another realm.

He cleared his throat and immediately the familiar, loving and protective angel hands of his Jeeva were there and raising his head using her right hand, placed the straw and Raman sucked in the water and felt better for it.

She gently lowered his head back on the pillow and swiveling her body to her right, placed the glass on the stand nearby and then turned and lovingly gazed on her man, her lover, her husband, and her hero.

Raman could barely see through his right eye and could see nothing from his left that was swollen shut and with broken lips that had begun to heal, he mumbled ' hi there, all well.'

Jeeva smiled ' all well, now that I can the light in your eyes with my own and now that I can hear the thunder of your voice with my ears'

Raman smiled and teasingly ' I love your pillow talk, my dear lady and if you allow me, I will try and molest your modesty with a little help from you.'

Jeeva gently slipped her hand into the sheets and said ' Sorry, my dear sir, both of us are forbidden from indulging in the pleasures that thou infers for, both of us have been told very strictly by the doctors to rest.'

Raman's face filled with a worried frown ' I need to rest Jeeva, but why you, baby? what's wrong? has something happened?'

Jeeva's reply never came for the knock on the door was followed by its opening and in came V.K.Singh and Raman saw that he was holding the mobile phone that had once belonged to Dhanraj Malik aka Jamun.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-_VfDf2NTk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtz5mpvgAM0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m6Y8xEfyXTs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0XjwtP_iTY

Jannal Oram 397

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke

V.K.Singh paused after shutting the door behind him and looked at man and woman, apologized ' I am really sorry for this intrusion but this could not wait' and waved the mobile phone and Raman using his left hand, beckoned him near.

Jeeva did not move and sat by Raman's side, but the shift of her eyes from pleasant to that of an accusing glare made his own eyes shift from her fire into his eyes.

Raman did not take the mobile phone of Jamun's and only asked ' any more bombs?'

' No. Thankfully no more bombs but just a mysterious audio message that could not be decoded and we found out that it can be decoded only by another audio message and what that is, remains a mystery.'

Jeeva's grip on Raman's arm had gone from a gentle caress to a tight squeeze the moment she had heard him ask if there were any more bombs and now relaxed its intensity and only her eyes continued to question V.K.Singhs presence as if it was a dangerous bomb by itself.

V.K.Singh placed the phone on the bed stand and looked at Jeeva ' ma'am, your husband is a real hero and if that is not a rare thing then let me tell you what is rare about him.'

Jeeva raised a hand ' sir, I sat by the window of the bus that I traveled in from home to office and from office back to home and I did that for nearly six years and I have seen thousands and thousands of souls passing me by and as I passed them on a daily basis and then one day, I saw this hero here standing among others like a lighthouse sending out light in all directions. I sat by the Jannal of the bus searching and he came, and came as an answer.'

V.K.Singh nodded ' Perfectly and eloquently explained. I will leave you both now.'

Raman looked at him ' sir, we have time right?'

' They are not going anywhere, Ram and remain safely frozen and waiting for your arrival.'

The door closed leaving them to their privacy and Jeeva looked at Raman 'what was that? your weird question and his weird reply about?'

Raman shook his head and raising his left hand brushing the hair that was cascading and covering her face asked worriedly ' later. But, first, tell me that you are all right and that our baby is safe and healthy.'

The door opened again and through the opening fled their privacy once again, leaving behind both their families to enter the room and they came and stood around both Raman and Jeeva.

Raman sick with worry turned to his mother ' Is everything okay amma?'

Kamakshi's happy smile vanished and she quickly turned and asked valliammai ' What is wrong? enna aachu valli?'

Jeeva looked at her mother ' Kamakshi, endi ippadi mega serial actors mathiri over-act pannre? Relax, please. I was just telling Raman that the doctors had told that both of us need rest and quiet, that's all.'

She looked at Raman ' baby, I was feeling a bit weak and faint and immediately doctors swarmed all over me to check on my condition.'

Raman looked at her ' and..' and seeing her smile sighed and tried imitating Vijay sethupathi and said ' Are you okay, baby?'

Jeeva smiled ' I am okay baby. Just that the doctor who examined me told me that we are going to have twins.'

Raman smiled, clapped and then taking her hands, kissed them gently, lovingly and looked at her and then at all of them and seeing the tears in his eyes, they too began to cry and Raman said ' perfect. Just perfect and if it is a boy and a girl, then we will name them Vijay and Suja.'

Jeeva nodded ' I bet that is how our twins are going to be, baby. A perfect ending.'

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kk5pJDCx0kc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RRHmt-Hi-T4

Jannal Oram 398

“To compose our character is our duty, not to compose books, and to win, not battles and provinces, but order and tranquility in our conduct. Our great and glorious masterpiece is to live appropriately. All other things, ruling, hoarding, building, are only little appendages and props, at most.” ― Michel de Montaigne

We cry as we laugh

and we laugh as we cry

and until our eyes run dry and turn

reddish and swollen, not from

intoxicants and exotic drugs

but from the highs of life

A day passes not only by the rising of the sun

and it's setting that allows the rising of the moon.

For a day also holds, mornings, afternoons and twilights

that lie between the rise and settings of the sun and moon

so, do we, cry, laugh, rave and rant, vent our anger,

love, lie and call it life and every emotion

is a rising and setting that sometimes

feels like falling, falling long and hard

Two days passed and they passed rather slowly, Raman thought as he lay watching the sun rise and set in opposite directions and battled hard with the monsoon clouds that played their tunes on the windows panes with the talent of a toddler. A sudden downpour soon fizzled into a drizzle and then that too vanished letting the sun to shine on like a crazy diamond.

Even though both his and Jeeva's parents had looked at him for answers to all the questions and problems that they all had faced together, Raman had not been forthcoming and his only words as a form of an explanation had been ' It is over. It is done.'

When the subject of their returning back to their house in Adyar had been touched upon, the doctor along with V.k.singh had told them that Raman needed a few more days of rest and without any movement for that might cause further damage to his broken ribs. But, much to their frustration, V.k.singh had not been very specific as to how many more days they along with Raman would be staying in the Avadi army base.

But all of them unanimously agreed that it was a much-needed respite from city life and that it was more like a holiday break in a hill station resort.

On the third day morning, Raman now sitting upright on the bed asked Jeeva to hand him the mobile phone that had belonged to the killer Dhanraj Malik and who had met his death at his hands.

Raman saw that the mobile phone had been fully charged and pressing the power button saw that it also had no protective lock of any kind.

He entered the mobile and saw that the phone memory had just one audio message and touched it gently and immediately the screen popped a question in bright black words.

' Please say the words'.

Raman stared at it and then wondered loudly ' what words?' and the mobile phone beeped loudly and a message filled the screen ' sorry, wrong input. please try again.'

Raman placed the mobile phone on his right side and stared intently at the window as if he expected the light that was streaming in to prompt some answers in his mind.

Jeeva softly pecked his cheek and ruffling his curly hair, lifted his chin ' enna hero.enna thinking.'

' Nothing Jeeva. Just wondering, if that killer has left behind any nasty surprises even as he and his woman lie in a freezer box.'

Jeeva looked at him ' boss, forget about them for now and have your breakfast.'

Raman groaned and Jeeva hurriedly told him ' hold on, hero, for you have a surprise breakfast coming your way.'

' what surprise breakfast? have you sent for some food from some nearby Saravana Bhavan hotel? that will be welcome from the bland army food that I have been eating the past few days.'

He looked at her with a smile ' I am more worried about my tummy than my ribs and knife wounds.'

' well, baby, you don't have to worry anymore for my mother has invaded the army kitchen and has become an instant hit and sensation.'

Raman's eyes and mouth opened wide, amazed and then he clapped his hands loudly ' bravo, bravo. Now, you are talking my dear woman and I guarantee you that with your mother's food in my belly, I will be soon jumping up and down like a Kangaroo and in full bloom.'

Raman used the remote and powered the tv and it was instantly filled with the Tamil news channel, Thanthi tv that was carrying live news of Prime Minister Modi's arrival in Chennai to inaugurate the new flyover near Koyambedu and along with him were the Chief minister EPS and Deputy CM OPS.

But, what caught their eyes was the striking and beautiful image of Kavita Arumugam who stood clad in a white saree with AIADMK colors as its borders.

Jeeva remarked ' God, she looks exactly like our late chief minister Jayalalitha. The similarity is creepy.'

The likeness to the late Amma and the similar sadness that had always lingered in the depths of her eyes now filled Kavita's face and it choked up Jeeva that she turned away.

Raman pulled her and sat her down by his side.

' you really are a great soul, Jeeva. Your heart feels and hurts for a woman who has feelings for her husband and yet you cry for her.'

Jeeva looked at Raman ' you are a very wise and intelligent man, Ram but even you will never be able to understand what a woman's love really means. But, I know baby. I know what it means to nurse and harbor a broken heart and a soul full of love and longing that is sweet and painful at the same time.'

Both sat quietly and watched Kavita light the wicks on the lamp and hoped, prayed and wished her the best in their souls.

The moment was now broken as the door opened and many army men who worked in the canteen came carrying trays of food and scenting the smell, Raman yelled and clapped loudly in great excitement.

Reaching for the phone, he spoke and all of them heard him say ' come now or there will be nothing left for I might single-handedly finish everything.'

Kamakshi, Valli, Shaktivel, and Manigandan also joined them and Raman looking at his mother-in-law ' amma, thank you. At last, we can all eat together as one and as a whole family.'

He looked at all of them ' please, just hold on for a moment for I have invited some friends to join us and they will be here any moment now.

Jeeva looked at Raman ' who Ram? who have you called?'

The door opened and the room was filled with the four young, bright faces of Shaji, Preetha, Balbir and Sukhi ram and with them came V.K.Singh and Brigadier Sooryanarayanan.

They ate as one. They breathed together as one family.

We might be many in bodies but one and untied in our souls when we share that beautiful thing called God, and whose true name is Love.

“There is nothing more notable in Socrates than that he found time, when he was an old man, to learn music and dancing, and thought it time well spent.”― Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays

God, I tried to be perfect. By, wanting to be perfect, I hoped vainly and filled with Ego that I could become like you. But, God, How can I be perfect when the world around me is imperfect. Lord, what is perfect anyway for I have tried my best to reach that altar, peak and much to my surprise, always find that the line has shifted, moved and far away from my fingertips.

My knees are bloodied and raw. My fingers and toes are bleeding from slipping and sliding, trying hard to hold on to perfection.

I see now that there never had been such a thing as perfection for I see now that you are imperfect yourself. Yet, I will try to be perfectly imperfect in the imperfect world.

Many a times, in my acting career, which is now nearly 24 years old, I have heard the word " perfect" used when I have been in front of the camera delivering my lines or reactions. It used to fill me with great pride and used to give me wings of joy to fly in and then I soon realized that the word perfection is just a temporary state of joy and just an award that does not survive too long and is suspect under close inspection.

Many a time, I have looked back on scenes and close-up shots that I thought I had been good in and realized that I could have done better. Yes, many things don't stand close scrutiny and fall flat and turn boring and cliched.

It was then that I realized the mortality of words, such as " perfect, great, fantastic" and also realized and understood that one can only do so much in that given time and in that given opportunity and inputs.

Life too is like that and we can only do so much with the time given to us and in the given emotional state that we find ourselves in.

It is okay to fail, fall, slip and slide for we all exist in an imperfect world, perfectly imperfect.

In a mother’s womb were two babies. One asked the other: “Do you believe in life after delivery?”The other replied, “Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”

“Nonsense,” said the first. “There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”

The second said, “I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we can’t understand now.”

The first replied, “That is absurd. Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. But the umbilical cord is so short. Life after delivery is to be logically excluded.”

The second insisted, “Well I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here. Maybe we won’t need this physical cord anymore.”

The first replied, “Nonsense. And moreover, if there is life, then why has no one ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery, there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said the second, “but certainly we will meet Mother and she will take care of us.”

The first replied “Mother? You actually believe in Mother? That’s laughable. If Mother exists then where is She now?”

The second said, “She is all around us. We are surrounded by her. We are of Her. It is in Her that we live. Without Her, this world would not and could not exist.”

Said the first: “Well I don’t see Her, so it is only logical that She doesn’t exist.”

To which the second replied, “Sometimes, when you’re in silence and you focus and listen, you can perceive Her presence, and you can hear Her loving voice, calling down from above.”

Maybe this was one of the best explanations of the concept of GOD.

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

Writing is like the many phases of love and life. I remember very clearly, sitting near my elder sister Aruna as she taught me to read and write, both English and Tamil Languages and also taught me how to read and tell time. Well, time was of no consequence to me and never was and never will and all that matters is the moment.

I remember the first time, I put the pencil that I was holding on to paper and began to write and now as I am about to begin writing chapter 399 of Jannal Oram, I smile and close my eyes and go to him and sitting by him ask him ' sati, what are you doing?'

The 5-year-old, burnt brown from hair to toe with the fires of the day and the fires of his own soul, looks up with wonder written in his brown eyes ' I have stumbled on a portal, a gateway, a passage to a place where I can exist once again, live once again and rise once again.'

Writing, was once an escape alley, a hatch, which I opened and buried myself in. Writing then became a form of venting emotions, sadly that was always rage and filled with rebellion.

But now, I write more with awareness about life and all that it means to me and yet, sometimes, the old writers sit by my side and tell me stories, forgotten ones from beyond time and from beyond the grave. Time, that has passed is rather like lives that have passed on and are beyond the horizon of life and knowledge. Sometimes, I stand by the portals, passages that border that which has passed, that which is passing and dreams of that which will soon and most certainly pass and I feel the turbulence of their passing collisions and I feel it in my soul. The young of the old times and the old of current times hold hands, dance, jump up and down and shedding their skins, turn me into a willing accomplice and my feet move to their beats and music.

Another day, gone. Another moment, gone, and another will soon rise and be here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXD2eWLqzU0&list=PLBDBA870DF26340C0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbjZPFBD6JU

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3X2ulwn3AU

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmKAn8rNbKg

Jannal Oram 399

“And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart:

Your seeds shall live in my body,

And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,

And your fragrance shall be my breath,

And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.” ? Khalil Gibran

Some sat, some stood, some walked and some talked and all did this while they ate and they partook the food that Jeeva's mother Kamakshi had cooked and she served them, piled their plates with food mountains that became flat plains for they disappeared into each and everyone's mouths and always followed by sighs and moans of pleasure.

V.K.Singh looked at her ' Ma'am, I am thinking if it is possible to make you some sort of senior officer and keep you here with us in this very base.'

Kamakshi blushed and waving his compliments away ' I don't know why all of you are raising such a hue and cry about such simple dishes that I rustled up.'

Brigadier Sooryanarayanan nearly fell off the chair in shock ' Ma'am, what do you mean just rustled up? Please, for God's sake don't ever say that about such delicious food.'

Raman looked at his senior colleagues ' gentlemen, if the lady says terms this food rustling up, then try imagining what her masterpieces will taste and what will our reactions be like?'

Preetha looked at Kamakshi ' Would you consider adopting me ma'am? I will clean, scrub, sweep and mop for you and I will do it free and all I want is three square meals and that has been cooked with your hands.'

Jeeva corrected her ' My mother does not cook with her hands but with her soul that is full of love and hence your reactions. Imagine, our feelings over all these years.'

The door opened and a large army cook came carrying a big brass bowl and Brigadier Sooryanarayanan took one sniff at the whiffs that came his way and his eyes popped out and he yelled like a small boy ' Rava Kesari, Rava Kesari, my favorite dish in this world' and jumping to his feet ran towards the army guy who nearly dropped the bowl out of fear and respect and placing it on the table, turned and fled from the room.

If the idlis, sambhar, chutney along with masala vadais had gone done with great gusto, the hot Rava Kesari raged down their throats like water down mountains as a waterfall in full crescendo.

All of them were chatting, praising, and they were like one big family eating together and hearing the door open, all of them looked excitedly in its direction and Brigadier Sooryanarayanan excitedly yelled ' what next Mrs.Kamakshi? and all of them stood with eyes wide open and frozen in whatever pose they were in.

For through the open door had walked in the Prime Minister of India, Shri Narendra Modi and he looked at all of them with twinkling eyes and folding his hands together in a namaste, and greeted them by saying' Namaskar.'

There are always a few bottles of scotch lying in wait in the cool, dark confines of my house. Whenever a friend happens to be coming down from abroad and if they pop the important question ' Dei, ennada vennum?', my reply is two-faced ' chocolates and scotch' and to which the reply is ' w.f., You don't drink and just keep it stored away. Are you going to open a bar someday?'

I try hard but just cannot remember when I last got really drunk, I mean plastered and even my last drink was many months ago and that usually happens when we Besant Arundale oldies meet up, either at venket's and paddy's or sanjay and bajji's homes.

It has been thus all my life. Be it, a food item, a scotch, a sweet, a piece of music, a tee or a shirt, I will yearn, ache and pine for it and once it is mine, I instantly lose interest in it.

But somehow, books and certain music collections remain alluring, mystical and evergreen and fresh in my soul.

Yes, sometimes, I have thought of myself as a bit weird and have asked myself if I am all okay and it took me many a year to realize and understand that I and all others are unique in our own special and importantly, in our God-created beautiful way.

There is a sense of relief when that realization hits you and sinks and soaks all over your being for then you begin to see everything with the same sense of understanding and also stop judging others by your own whims, fancies and crucially, by your own standards.

But, with that understanding also comes the reclusiveness and distancing from others that you are not comfortable with and yes, it makes others think of you as either moody or a big snob ( read, periya May..unnu nenappu).

That's okay for you have learnt and realized about yourself and with that comes the understandings of the misunderstandings that others around you have about you. It becomes rather easy and mundane to just say hello and once the rudiments of acceptable norms of behavior are done with, walk away saving time and saving it with grace.

It is a tragedy but the truth that most of us try our best to understand this journey called life and just as we have begun to have a handle over it, pass away.

70 to 80 years is just not enough, at least for me. Only now, have I begun to see life in all its splendor with the eyes that life has blessed me with and only now am I seeing with my soul that everyone and everything is beautiful. Just that, our sights are misaligned a bit and off-center.

Maybe, God itself, suffers from some sort of Astigmatism of the soul and his creations thus are a bit skewed.