Reflections

It's been ages since I travelled in a second class sleeper compartment of a train.When the tickets were booked I almost thought of cancelling my trip. The so- called luxury of closed doors and artificially cooled cabins were hard to let go. The lack of natural light and air was something that you paid for. I boarded the train to Pune on a cool July evening after a wait of two hours. The delay gave me just enough time to catch my breath after rushing against time for months on end.There was no school bus to run after, no cooking to cater to, no PPTs to be sent across and no schedules to be prepared for 8 1/2 trainers. I was left alone and that felt divine. Waiting for the train I finished a 100 odd page novel by Padmarajan, one that I had wanted to read for so long.The train arrived and after I settled down, it struck me that I could breathe freely. The windows were left open and the feel of fresh air on my skin was exhilarating.There was a cool yet wet breeze all along and as I bad...

Let me remain your Muse and you my beloved Artist Fly high on my wings; my wings brushed with the choicest of treasures- abundance of love, plenty of inspiration and imagination galore You and I are not to be bound by shackles of permanency We would lose our magic, if it were to be so Spirits moulded, souls in unison we yet remain free; free to explore and grow richer together At the tap of your thought on the pane of my window I'd come rushing to your side And fill your palate with the best of my colours The world would gush and stand in awe at your creation Bursting with pride and filled with love, I'd quietly slip out of your gentle embrace and wait at my abode, till our thoughts meet again

It was during the phase of a major personal crisis that I was led to experience the magic of Kalaripayattu . I was ready to experiment with anything to take me out of the state of numbness and purposelessness that I was struggling with, on a daily basis. I started off with a vengeance, ignoring the aches and groans; wanting to excel in the art and thus conquer the feeling of emptiness within. {For the uninitiated, Kalaripayattu is a martial art form with its roots in the mystic land of the brave Othenans*. The popular ballads on the heroic deeds of these experts in the art form spread the fame of Kalaripayattu all across Kerala and even beyond.Though used as an effective method of combat during the olden days,today Kalaripayattu is used as tool to train the mind and strengthen the body} I was used to a more fun based work - out, like dancing, where you stick to the rhythm and let the music transport you to another land altogether. Kalari with its huffs and puffs and otherwise dead sile...

It was a day like any other; I was rushing off to meet the hands of my clock. I had to fit in a doctor’s appointment too that Thursday and was wondering for the umpteenth time why we could not have at least 25 hours. A lingering back ache has finally led me to the doctor and I would say here that it was more on the insistence of my sis doc that I found myself at his OPD at St. John’s that day. After a long wait we were given an audience by the Orthopaedician. He tapped, poked and stroked and came out with the verdict: An irritated disc in the lumbar region. (Thanks to the media I was not left gaping at the terminology). A healthy diet, some gentle exercises and the will to make it happen was his prescription for the same. My extended sitting hours, both at work and in the car, contributed to it and I had to take care. We went ahead for the routine checks – the Xray was done but the blood samples could only be given the following day as I was not on an ‘empty stomach’. So the next da...

A friend of more than eight years met with an accident while he was driving back home after dinner, with his wife and baby. A pleasant evening culminated in to an indelible memory when the car crashed in to a call centre taxi during the late evening hours yesterday. In no time was a family erased with just a single survivor left behind, battling for life. After the initial shock, the news sank in and I finally was ready to acknowledge the fact that we take our lives and its safety so much for granted. Despite the laws of mandatory usage of seat belts we still drive around without them, leaving the seat belts hanging on to the door sides gathering dust. (From February 1 2009, the city traffic police will begin penalizing those who are not fastening their seatbelts. This had been made mandatory in the country under Section 138 of the Motor Vehicles Act following an amendment in 2003. Source: www.expressindia.com dated 29th January 2009) Driving time has turned out to be the most conven...

I reckon the pain in my writings, that you talked to me about It has had its roots in fear, a state of unrest and fluidity The realm of my identity was a strange land to me I have been groping for “me” and my “self” It was easy to go by, past them, for long- Ignoring the persistent calls from within But they then assumed tones of warning and threat And yet, I remained apparently oblivious to them all Closed my doors and life was safe within The knocks grew to bangs and finally The secure door came crashing down Leaving me ‘alone’ to lurk in the dark It shook me to note that warnings strong cannot be ignored I was left clueless for a while but not for long There were miles to tread and the path was ‘less taken’ With the tough going also came new learning Now in the cozy confines of my ‘self’ I look back at times past and see what they brought home to me The ‘self’ discovered and untangled and the fears and unrest slowly turning to peace!

It’s been a week after she came to Calcutta, when one morning she came across an advertisement in the newspaper, ’Wanted a smart and intelligent lady to be in charge of our whole sales department. Should have some know-how about fabric colours and the latest designs. Walk in to our office with a self-written application” The office building was in a crowded street. By the time she reached that building in her light yellow silk saree and white hand bag, it was eleven o’clock. It was huge building with seven floors, which had more than two hundred rooms and great many verandhas. There were elevators and a group of people in front of each of them-fat merchants, office goers clutching their leather bags and the like. She couldn’t find a single woman there and had lost a great part of her courage by that time. She felt that she shouldn’t have ignored her husband’s opinion and come for that job. Spotting a peon near by, she asked him: ”On which floor is the textile company?” “Must be on the ...