The four year old boy!

He completed four! Time flies. Not sure how the four years passed by so quickly. It has been one heck of a journey. 

I still remember that day he was born, like it was yesterday. I tried that day to be as calm as possible. The friends who were with me on that day, though, immediately knew I was nervous. Wifey went into labour in the wee hours of the morning, and the fellow came into the world quite early in the morning. From that day till today, he has always been quick-footed. Perhaps he kicked his way out of his mother's womb. 

I wasn't ready for him. I always thought it was going to be a girl. I wanted a girl. Badly! Somehow, the inner me was convinced about the girl. We, stupidly enough, had a name ready only for a girl. I told you, I wasn't ready for him. We weren't ready for him. 

They handed me the baby first. I held onto the baby, like it was my everything. "Yenna kuzhanthai, sollunga (Please tell what baby is it?), the nurse who handed the bundle to me asked. Then it hit me. It is a boy! BOY! "Wait! What! How did this happen? I mean, I am not ready for this," my mind ran amok. To worsen matters, he looked exactly like me. It almost feels like I see myself in him every time, and that's scary. 

The maze my life had been till then, suddenly had a spanner thrown at it. Another life to think about and take care of. A life full of energy. The legs of his, I tell you, never stop running and jumping. He jumps, he climbs, and he runs behind a ball. That is all he wants. To run behind any ball. Yesterday he had four balls in his hands at 9PM bedtime, and he wants to sleep carrying em all in his hands. My wife often says boys are crazy; I never understood it till I saw this replica of myself in flesh and in blood. 

My joy, and my sorrow, my laughter, my anger, my victories, my failures, my hopes, my fears, my anxieties, and my peace, everything my life had been in the last four years had been the boy! 

I have heard people say one will have to have a girl to feel fatherhood! And now that I have a girl as well, I perhaps understand that statement better. 

But have a boy, I say, and you will feel craziness and adventure. 

Happy birthday, little 'K'. Here is to many more years of a life of adventure and running behind those round objects called balls. 

The boy and his adventure toys. 

When dreams become reality!

It is dark. The night is too far gone that the faint crescent of the waning moon hangs over the trees. The house is dimly lit, too! An old-fashioned yellow chandelier of sorts gives a more cosy feeling than the clean, energizing white light. In a corner, I am randomly looking at the screen, intensely thinking about the few months that have gone by! 

It has been two months and it is still sinking in. The little baby girl is ours. We have named her Diya, meaning Lamp. 

Oh wait, what is happening? 

Cut to the year 2002. I was in class XI. My uncle had taken me to a movie theatre. A movie called "Kannathil Muthamittal (A peck on the cheek)". Something in me broke that day. I promised myself then, that I would adopt a baby. A baby girl! Well, very foolish indeed. Perhaps, childish.Whoever makes such random promises. 

Well, 22 years later, here I am, a father again, having adopted this beautiful baby girl. Sometimes dreams become realities too, I suppose! 

She just slept on me. It all feels surreal. 

Apparently, she was abandoned. Perhaps she was thrown away. Whatever that means. For me, it just meant one thing, She is mine. Ours! 

As she slept on me and I was about to put her to bed, I whispered a prayer, a wish; that one day this young girl of mine would stand on the pulpits of the world and pull down patriarchy and casteism and every nonsense this world had thrown at her and thousands of young girls like her. 

I wish that she will one day be bold to stand for the truth and show light to the dark world, question the unquestionable, brave the high and mighty, and fight every hatred, challenge every bias, bigotry and prejudice. 

Hope one day she will question me, my own insecurities and my idiosyncrasies! The nonsense I throw at her in the name of culture and tradition. One day she will go back to the land of her birth and the land that didn't want her then, will embrace her. She will realise that one day love will overcome; hatred and evil will eventually be destroyed. 

I wish that she doesn't have to walk around dragging the carcasses of our prejudice and hatred, our avarice, our data banks and dead ideas as Arundhati Roy puts it, but rather walk freely, over the sepulchre of the broken old world, with little luggage and heads held high to reimagine a fresh new world.

So we start another journey! It could well be the most interesting of all: parenting a girl. How different will this be from being a parent to my now 2-year-old boy? I don't know. How different can parenting an adopted child be? I'm not sure. 

The dreams I had dreamt 22 years ago had come to light. Why not the dreams of today? 

Of 38 or some such random number!

Writing absolutely heals! In times when life sucked, when the world collapsed right before me, when darkness was all I could see around, when the light at the end of the tunnel could never be seen, I always, always turned to my pen! Rather, my keyboard. Inevitably, every time I have come out better; stronger; and sometimes, even cleaner. 

I guess, to each their own. 

But why do I come back to this page today? It is such a clear day. I'm as happy as happy can be! Everything I had been prescribed in life has been good so far. So why write now? 

My earth completed one more of its round around the sun! It has done so many times that I don't even want to remember the number. Some random number! Yet, it feels good to be alive and well and happy after completing one more of its rounds. 

Well, I'm absolutely grateful for what has been billowed to me. Surely there have been frustrating times but in the long run, it has all evened out! Only the good things remain. 

Do I look forward to running one more round? Absolutely! I look forward to many more rounds. 

As I get ready and drag my earth along for more rounds of the same, I promise to be kinder to the world around me, to keep my senses open to learn more new lessons, to be more intense and to push more hard. 

For there are miles to go; kingdoms to conquer; more people to love; novel lessons to be learnt; and The future beckons. For the 39th time around the world. Or some such random number. I don't care! 

Writing not only heals pain; It also cleanses! And that is why I'm here again. To clean the cobwebs of the mind and get ready to run again. 

Two years of Love!

'Appa, Valikithu' (It is painful) little K complained. "Where is it paining", I asked him and kissed his foot, the part of his body where the pain emanated from, according to him. He showed his right leg and then his left. After getting kisses on both his legs, he showed his hands. One by one. "Inga valikithu" (It is paining here) he told me. He got kissed on every part of his body. I kissed his every part. He got love. I loved! 

For a hardcore unemotional logician like me, this is new. This is a different feeling! 

Love and Marriage did happen to me. The wife showered love like there is only me on this planet earth. I did feel special; The love had developed into a bond of friendship built on mutual respect. 

I can hardly write about love without mentioning the mom. She just bled love! The extended family has shown love, pure and pristine at various stages of life. 

But nothing had me prepared for the tingly feeling of the melting heart when little 'K' sees me and runs to me and jumps on me. 

'Appa, yennaachi' (What happened)? he asked me! I had just sprained my neck and had shouted a loud arghhh. "I have a pain in my neck", I told K. "Kaluthaa?" (Is it the neck?), he asked me again. I replied in the affirmative. He kissed my neck. 

Ah, that feeling again! The feeling of the melting heart. 

Today 'K' turns 2! Two years. Time has just flown by.

We didn't plan massive elaborate celebrations. In the quiet corner of my room, I closed my eyes and said a prayer. 

I prayed that the love of his heart, and the tingly feeling of mine will be a constant companion of our lives. 

Happy Birthday my little Munchkin

In dad's shoes!

Every time when someone says 'K' looks exactly like you my heart misses a beat. I gulp! That strange feeling of not wanting your child to be like you. Memories of your life run through the mind. You remember the timid, average, noisy, clumsy, rebellious, and lazy individual you were at various stages of life. Of course, you don't want your child to be that, right? 

Then you wish there will be that gene from the wifey, which perhaps might make him a different human being. Perhaps he will go on to become a successful, clear-headed, and loving human being like his grandmom. Surely there will be some remnant of her passed on right? I pacify the troubled heart.

Suddenly yesterday I saw 'K' doing something with his wrists. Almost like throwing a ball from the back of your hand. The wifey had a wry smile. "He is imitating you", she said; "You do that bowling action no, he is doing the same"! Well, apparently they even imitate your actions. Can't I now sit on my sofa with my legs on it? Can't I just be myself? Ah, the complicated world of parenting!

'K' today decided to play with my flip-flops. He had both of them on and tried walking. They were huge. It almost felt like his legs were an afterthought. The wifey made a sarcastic comment, "In Appa's shoes". There went the heart again. It missed yet another beat! I gulped again. I know it was just an analogy and he wasn't following exactly my path. Yet, the phrase had so much meaning. Ain't it? How will 'K's life be if he follows the same path? The one less trodden, filled with failures and insecurities all along. Of course, it had been one heck of a ride. Is it okay to warrant the same roller coaster for your child? Or should I wish a smooth, seamless life for him?  

The questions that throng my mind every day, I tell you.

For the longest time, my dad was my hero. The ultimate rockstar. When he drove the bullet, I awed at him. I proudly told the world that he is a doctor. At least till the teens, he remained the hero. Mom became a hero later on in life and remained so till the end. Did they know that I was following in their footsteps? Did they panic? Did their hearts flutter too? Or were they sure when they let their hands off me, that I might end up following them? Were they okay if I did follow them? Or didn't? 

Through all the loud white noise of the mind, in the innermost hearts, I know there is no running away from it. For now, there is a human, albeit a miniature version, a human nevertheless, who thinks it is fun to be in his dad's shoes. 

I better be careful! 

Surely following his dad! 

Perhaps his mom too! 

                                                                                                 The scary thought of following in the father's footsteps

Taking stock of a year full of blessings!

Phew! What a year it has been. A year full of blessings; 

As I started to take stock, it warms the cockles of my heart like no other to visualize my son's smile, and that my dear ppl are the greatest blessing of my life and for that, I'm eternally grateful, for the year 2022. 'K' is 7 months old now, already climbing onto everything he can find! I guess I'm bracing up for the rough ride called fatherhood. For now, I'm truly happy. 

2022 had another major change! Another blessing. Change in a job which brought with it a change of places (back to my hometown) and a lot of travel, which I so loved. I seriously do miss my previous job and the people there. They are some of the best around. As the song goes, "Change is a strange thing, it cannot be denied and it can help you find yourself", I have found things within me that I didn't know existed before and for that, I'm truly grateful. Also, the new organization and my team have been extremely kind to accommodate me and my idiosyncrasies. 

2022 took me to places I did not know existed on the planet earth. I flew to the remotest corners of the world, where even google would find travel difficult. Learned how difficult life can be, and how privileged, or blessed, as my wife would prefer me to say, I'm! I think I needed that slap and wish I keep my senses open to the pain and the suffering the world is throughout my life and one of my wishes for 'K', as he grows up, is that God helps him understand his blessings and privileges and stay true to that. 

New friendships have happened! Old friendships have been renewed. 'N', once a hero, has become a close friend and a confidante helping me streamline my scatterbrain. The year also graciously allowed a few friends to start a dream project, something which 'Sh' the best friend, and I randomly dreamt about. We have become closer in the process as well. Though I do precious little for the project, It is something I'm extremely proud of. 

2023 comes with its own challenges! I look forward to a lot of travel, more time with a walking and a running 'K', a lot more reading, writing, and learning, more profound work, and more dreams coming true. 

Can 2022 be replicated all over again in the new year? I don't think I will mind another year of blessing! 

Happy new year, folks. 

Fatherhood of man!

How does it feel to be a father, Sam? The question was repeated for the umpteenth time; As I joined back work today after what had been a crazy week and a half, I took time to gather my thoughts together to answer that question. How does it feel to be a father? 

It surely does feel a little nervous! As someone who had been extremely independent, a little too distracted, and surely as someone who could never fit into the societal box, it really feels nervous to be holding a child with the responsibility of guiding it through this wild vile world. How do you teach him to do 'X' without him learning to be 'Y'? How does it work, for someone as arrogant as I'm, to teach a young kid humility and empathy? Won't your child look at you and look at the insecurity? Would he learn to say 'Please' and 'sorry' and 'Thanks', rather than learn from the world of toxic masculinity? Ah, the nervous questions the mind throws at you! 

How does it feel to be a father? It surely feels surreal. I had always been good with children. Always! The niece I loved the most, loved me the most when she was a toddler. Every time 'G' called me 'tham thittha' (sam chitha), I felt loved. When we ran around playing 'catch-me', it felt natural. Yet, this feels bizarre as the helpless, small kid lying on his back and rolling his eyes all the time, somehow had to call me the father and love me! Perhaps, with time the sense of love and wonder will take over. But for now, Surreal is the word. 

It surely feels exciting! As someone who relishes new challenges, novel ideas, and fresh learnings, what better field than fatherhood to learn and experiment😜

It also feels a little complete! I have been an ardent advocate of being complete in oneself. Whatever that means, I sincerely believe every individual is and should be complete in themselves. As much as I think my previous lines have been real and true, fatherhood does bring a 'completed' feeling to life.  

So, how does fatherhood feel? 

I know it has only been a precious few days and I have a long way to go. Yet, In a nutshell, the arrogance of thinking I know the world all too well has been put in its place. I do feel like being at the jumping-off point of a 'Roller-Coster'. I'm all buckled up and ready. A little nervous. Surreal. Happy. Complete. And surely excited. 

Father time and my old man!

1990! I wake up. Look around for him. He is in his usual place. Easy chair, newspaper in hand. The brown lungi, without a shirt. I walk up-to him. He keeps the newspaper to the side. He takes me onto his lap. 

My routine till I was five. Perhaps even after. The Dad's lap was all I ever wanted. My dad. My super hero. 

2022! I have this looooong call with him trying to explain how office 365 works on an iPad. I hate the call. Don't want it to prolong. It goes on and on and on. Everything I try fails. Team viewer (trying to remotely connect to his iPad) didn't work either. It takes us a good hour to sort it out before I cut the call. I hate that one hour. Arrrrrgggghhh😡😡😡. 

30 years! Phew, time has flown by! 

The dad was the smartest brain I knew, till I met my wife. He knew everything. Once during my school days he taught me science and I still remember that day. The lesson sounded so clear; I was in awe of his brain then. Apparently he was the smartest around during his school days as well.

As I saw that brilliant mind struggle to understand and work its way through something as simple as Office 365, something in me broke down. This wasn't the first time it has hit me. I knew the man is getting old. Yet, it hit me hard today. My man is becoming old! The transition from being the super hero to an old man is real. Scary as hell. 

No, I didn't shout at him. I was remarkably patient. And I promised myself that I will be patient when he needs me again. For, sadly, I know it can only go downhill from now. 

Why can't time wait for me? Can I stop time once? Just once? shall I just go back to the days of sitting there on the dad's lap with my hands on his paunch? Is 'turning back the clock' meant to be a phrase for a fantasy land?  Father time, can it ever be defeated?   

Surely time in the real world can never ever be defeated! 

But perhaps precious memories, hazy imageries, forgotten stories and the residual thoughts are all those we are left with to fight time, at least in our own metaverses. 

A grateful goodbye!

So, did you all like 2021? Did you? Did I like 2021? Come let us relive my year. 

I'm just letting my thoughts flow over; 2021 was a year like that; Like a river that ebbed and flowed. Yet through it all, His grace was sufficient!

What can you say about a year where we as a family went from one hospital to another to another. From one specialist to another. From a cardiologist to an oncologist to a gynaecologist; The year in a gist, was the gists of the medical field put together. Yet, as always, the family stood tall! Taller than ever before. We laughed our way through the most difficult days. Wifey takes the cake. Extended family the cherry on top.

The blessings though, have been many! The biggest blessing of it all, are the much awaited children coming into our lives in the coming years. What a joy will that be, to hold one more of those God given dolls.

When it rains, it pours! And blessings did pour, as two more joined in the extended family. Marriage, the fun of cousins' wedding and two new souls joining the madness were fun. 

Friends have always been my backbone! Well, the backbone stood strong this year too. Everyday and through the lows and highs, they stood strong. A brilliant new friendship was formed. Best friend for life! A few childhood friendships renewed. 

Ever grateful to the passionate souls I worked with day in and day out. My team and my org were simply the best. Through every thing my life threw at me, they stood with me. Ah, what will be life without them?

I look forward excitedly for new beginnings. Newer roles. Personally and professionally. Meeting more people. More travel. A lot of reading and writing. Newer adventures. Newer challenges. Can life get more exciting? 

Did I like 2021? Well, 2021 has set up 2022 really well. For that I'm grateful for 2021. It wasn't the best. It sure wasn't. No major complains either. Just a grateful goodbye. 

Better together!

As the night wore on and the clock stuck 12, not one person in the house had slept. ‘Diamond’, ‘Heartin’, ‘clawers’ and ‘spades’ ruled the conversation. It actually had been a tiring day, but nothing can be seen on their faces. For when siblings come together, where will tiredness reside?

‘J’, my little sister, had just got married. We (the cousins) had planned a prank and waiting for her to enter the room with her ‘just married’ husband ‘A’. Poor ‘A’, what is he getting into? We were playing cards, pulling each other’s legs. There was fun. Frolic! ‘A’ and ‘J’ just walked in. It was almost 1 AM and the prank was played. The sound of the laughter would have been heard across the town, for we “Laughed out Loud”.

As I went to my bed that night, I kept thinking about this beautiful concept of sibling hood! Not necessarily children born of the same parent. People brought together by blood and by will. People who consider the other as soul mates and as bloodlines! Beyond age and gender differences. Much beyond the oceans and the lands.

In a world divided and competitive, I don’t remember ever being Jealous of any one of my siblings! And I have plenty of them. We have fought and cried, but never have we borne a grudge against one of them. I confidently use the pronoun ‘we’ for I’m sure every one of them can vouch for my previous statement. Sibling rivalry has never been heard. Broad shoulders to lean on and warm laps to rest down have always been the norm. Perhaps, I’m one of the privileged few! Perhaps, this is how it is meant to be.

As the wedding reception went on, a small decorated area was kept exclusively for selfies’. The background read “Better together”! I took pictures together with a few of my siblings, whoever was available then.

For the world is better, when siblings stay together!

The writer's dilemma!

I love words! Sometimes, I read and re-read and read again a few sentences and they sound so nice and beautiful. Like Illayaraja and his violin interludes; Rahman and the overtures. Philip Yancey, Dorothy Clarke Wilson, Dominque Lapierre, and Larry Collins,  Harsha Bhogle, NS, DB, and a lot more great people whose play around with words have had me attracted to the English language. 

No, I'm not a language connoisseur. Or a grammar Nazi! I just love the stories, the thoughts, put together like a bunch of flowers tied together on a thread. Single flowers do have the charm! But when put together, it sometimes is otherworldly. 

Did any of you guess my dilemma? I'm sure some of you would have. 

The dilemma of wanting to write, but don't really know what to! Thought block, is a word often thrown around I presume; But do writers also go through the phase where they can't think of anything to write? It sometimes feels terrible when the whole world around is chucking out so many books and here you are struggling to put together a blog. Just a 500-word blog! 

Many times I open my blog, start typing profusely and delete them all. They don't make sense. They just don't. I simply close the computer down and go back to the big bad world of small sentences, Twitter.  

I remember a pleasant October evening in Delhi when the mind just flowed stories. I wrote and wrote and wrote that day. Many of which are still in my drafts folder, but why don't such days happen often? More often than not these days I type and delete and type and delete. The mind just feels blank. Like a bubble wrap, it just bursts out air. 

So back to the dilemma. Should I just sit and push and put pen to paper, and call whatever comes out, a blog, or just wait, patiently and earnestly, that someday, some day, the thought block will be removed and the thoughts will flow like water gushing out of the opened dam. 

I'm waiting for the day the dams will open and perhaps, just write a book, than stopping myself with blogs😉

35 years of grace!

It is dark and eerily quiet. The sound of the blades of the fan cutting through the air is deafening. I switch off the fan and sit on my computer. To reflect and blog my life. The 34 years I had walked on this earth, as yet another human being burdening the planet. 

Where do I start? It has been one hell of a journey.

Life as I used to see it was never easy. For a long period of time at least. It wasn't ever meant to be. A few marks here and there and I could have so easily been a doctor or an IAS officer. A simple medical check-up, a few months earlier could have saved my mom. Little more effort from my side, I could have played for the Tamil Nadu state teams. It just did not happen. 'If only', had always been a phrase in my life for the longest possible time. That is what I thought for a long time. That life had not been fair to me. Or rather, it has not been an easy life. 

But when I reflect on life now, with all the wisdom of the years gone by, life on the contrary, has been ridiculously easy. Blessed will be a better word. 

How can I complain, with all the privileges I'm bestowed with? I wrote all my blessings down here and then deleted them. They are far too many to count and to be honest a little too surreal to show off. God has been incredibly kind!  Grace is the word I use. To describe a life that did not deserve all its goodness. 

Through the last year, when the world went through terrible times, I managed to live and work. To love and was loved. To find new friends and re-established contact with some old ones. What else do I ask for? 

As it has always been, I'm sure the new year is going to be full of dreams and incredible opportunities. Love and more love. Fun and frolic. Some music and writing for sure. Ofcourse the occasional nonsense. And a lot more Grace. 

That is how I have always known lyf!  

A decade of botched dreams, yet off a dreamy reality!

Do I dream big? Well, I do! I sometimes dream too big for my own comfort. The last decade (2010 - 2019) was all about dreams. I had had big dreams fall terribly short, yet I had always got up dreaming bigger!

Ten years ago as a fearless young boy, I had quit quite a high paying job in the glitter of the IT hub with a promise of a career in Europe to work in the remotest jungles of a terror hit Assam. It was one of those decisions which I will think twice before taking it now. The fearlessness of the youth I presume! But never once do I regret. For I took a wild decision hearing a voice within, and life has never been the same again.

Then another of those wild dreams!  Did I listen to that inner voice again? They have a tendency to send me on these wild goose chases.  A decision which led me to meet incredible people; an obvious life-changing decision. Those two years made me the person I'm. It gave me a sense of belonging. It gave me life's perspectives and of course a better understanding of the world around me.

Then that day happened! That day I wish had never come, not in this decade, never in my life. The day life hit rock bottom. The day when amma was diagnosed with that dreaded disease. Well, the fight after that. Fight against the disease and in fact the fight within against sinking hope. Well, defeats do end up bitter, but I ended up better. Through that struggle and dare I say the next few years were the best of the decade. To marry a rockstar and at the same time work with a dream team, is all I could have asked for.

If you grow up in a small town, you always dream big dreams. I did too! Dreams, when they become reality, which leave you with a sense of wonder and gratitude and the last year was all about that. The year finally ending up working among the better people the world can offer.

Life in the last decade was incredibly adventurous. Took me to places I had not dreamt off. Yet life was full of botched up dreams; dreams which never really took off! As I look forward to a new decade, I look forward to living new dreams, and of course, stuff out of the syllabus of life prescribed, for those I expect and those I don't together constitute the dreaminess of it all.

Happy new decade people! 

The courage I inherited from my timid mother!

As the world celebrated their mothers, I was running away from the timeline. With really tight deadlines and loneliness of this place, with the wifey also not around, I did not want to start missing my mom all over again. I'm a coward. 

Well, my mother was one as well. Coward would not be the right word I should say. Timidity would be a better word. She was afraid of everything. Every damn thing. Like crossing the road, her children's future, a difficult patient, talking in English. She was afraid of it all. 

At least that is what I thought of her; Till that dreaded disease gripped her and like a boa constrictor broke her piece by piece.

A timid person and cancer should not go along well together. When the doctors initially gave her four weeks to live, she should have just withered away. She was timid after all. 

Yet she did not. She smiled through most of it. Oh ya, she went back to work. And took the stairs for all the four floors of our house like she used to do before she started medication, with that unbearable pain. The steel in her suddenly grew bigger. Maybe it was always there and I had missed seeing it.  Where did that come from, I had often wondered. Every day when she got up she vomited. Of course, she cried. Then braced herself for another day's work. And worked her way through, till the last bone was broken. 

Was she really timid? Maybe I mistook the innocent smile for timidity. Yes, maybe she feared for everything in the world. But faced them all with the smile intact. Fear never came in between her and the most difficult patient. Neither did fear come in between speaking in impeccable English to her foreign son as she often said of the boy 'J' from the US, who stayed with us for more than a year. And bigger than it all, it never came in between letting her children live the lives they wanted in the remotest of villages of tribal Assam, considered to be terrorist hit by the world around her, even if that meant quitting high profile corporate jobs. 

And then I realized, courage is not an absence of fear but facing your fears with a smile. And then I realized, my mother was the most courageous woman of all. For she had the biggest fear and yet the best smile through it all. 

I smiled my way through the mother's day. For my mother's gift of courage to me is woven subtly into the fabric of my psyche that I can hardly distinguish where she stops and I begin. 

What do I stand for in life?

I'm that crazy individual whose mind just keeps pushing the body all over the place. So one day I will be all pumped up doing the gym and the next day I will be wallowing in my bed like a couch potato. One day you can see me full of passion thinking on different ways of changing the world, and the next day I will get the 'who cares what you become' attitude and just watch YouTube videos through the day.

But this question kept haunting me for a long time! What do you stand for in life? And I decided to write them down just coz the writers want to boast themselves off to the world, not only about their writing prowess but also on how their lives are wonderful.

So here am I, thinking my life out loud! Nope, writing my life out loud? rather silently.

And as I started writing this I got reminded of this voice in the background; The voice of Gregory Boyle whose organization 'homeboy industries' works among the incarcerated gangmen from the cities and bylanes of the United States of America.

He reflected on his life in the following words, and this is me wishing at the end of it all, this to be mine.

"To stand with the demonized, so that the demonizing will stop,
  To stand with the disposable, so that a day will come when we stop throwing people away,
  To stand with those whose dignity has been denied, and
  To stand with those whose burdens are more than they could bare
  To stand with the poor and the powerless,
  And the voiceless, making those voices heard"


Well, after all the showing off! I finish with this prayer in my heart. The prayer to give me a heart full of tenderness, for only a heart that ventilates tenderness for the broken world has any chance of changing it.
  

The great Indian wedding!

Phew! Mukesh Ambani is spending 700 crores on his daughter's wedding! 700 crores? He had Salman Khan, the superstar of Hindi Cinema dance at the background of his son. Aishwarya Rai and Abhishek Bachan, the first family of the cinema industry also gave a dance number. Beyonce, among the leading singer and songwriter of the world, is giving performances as well. Hillary Clinton dropped in at the reception.  Private jets picked and dropped people up. The who's who of the world were represented. Welcome to the world of an Indian wedding. The great Indian wedding!

Even as the wedding ceremonies were on, the social media went berserk. People were criticizing Ambani for wasting so much money. That 700 crores could have fed thousands of poor people in this country. What a waste of money! shouted the righteous Indian public. Rightly so, I think! It was a brazenly arrogant show of money power.

And lift up your hands all of you who thinks it is brazenly arrogant in spending that money! Yay! You are a hypocrite! HYPOCRITE! Each one of you! More so if you are married. Of course, it includes me, and mine.

I would have spent a measly 10 lakhs of rupees for my wedding. From when did 10 lakh become measly? Blood and sweat of both my parents for a year! And I'm among those privileged to spend within the expenditure limits of the parents. (And of course, marrying out of your parent's money is not a shame yet in India. Yet that is for another day). There are people who go into debt to get their children married. More so if you are the parents of the bride.

I know most of us who read this don't get into debts to get married to! But we are part of the system that brazenly throws away hard earned money on one day of celebration. And we are part of the system which pushes others to debt, coz when you do it, they have to do it as well.

I understand we have the right to splurge money, our hard earned money, in whatever way we want. And so does the Ambani's. His pockets are big. 700 crores would not burn his pockets.

So dear hypocritic Indian, before shouting out at the rich and their spending, look at yours. In a microcosm, we are the same! The same brazenly arrogant individual who cares two hoots about splurging money on weddings!

Running away from the docs!

Have you ever run away from treatment? from the docs? Like the child running away from the 'oosi' shouting "Oosi vendaam ma, naan nalla pillaya irupen"?

When the dad, mom, brother, sister, FIL, MIL, the best friend and more importantly the wifey are all doctors, what do you do? Where do you run to? Whom do you run away from?

The FIL says one tablet, the MIL a different one. When was the last time a husband and wife have told the same thing anyways? Then my wifey has a completely different idea. You don't know anything, please don't do this she says to her father. Oh ya, you have to remain oblivious to the dialogue happening. You cannot be privy to an argument where your FIL is scolded by her daughter as not knowing anything.  Did you hear anything? illa da, I was listening to NEWS.

Finally they concur on one thing. To give all the tablets all three of them opined. So you were made to eat 111 tablets a day. No! You don't have the option to refuse. How do you refuse the wife anyways?

And after two days, when nothing materialised they repeat the same dialogue all over again. Like nothing happened before, you listen to everything again! No I did not hear that as well. The only option is to pack your bags and leave the place as if you have work.

But where do you go to?

And you reach home only to have the dad and the brother and the sister thinking that they are the only people treating you.  What if the teacher aunt thinks she is also a doctor, just because she had been sick before? And the process starts all over again. And sadly just because I live in the hospital campus the other hospital doctors also have their own treatment.

So after having the antibiotics, the paracetomols, the cough syrups, the ayurvedic treatment, you still cough because it is viral and love and too much love could never cure a viral infection.

What is sickness for, if not to get pampered by? 

Different times those!

Who are you? The 85 year old granny asked me the question for the third time. I'm Elango's son, I repeated the answer the third time. oh! Elango Paiyan ah? Elango ku yethana pasanga? She continued. Her mind was slowly giving way. After 85 years of holding fort. She is my Grandmother's sister.

She had got a medical seat in the famous Christian Medical College in the late forties. But her father refused to let her study. "I am already having difficulty finding a groom for your sister because she had become a doctor, I cannot do this again, said her father". Different times those! Oh ya, she carries the hurt deep within; yet as those times were, she married and followed her husband faithfully all her life.

How different times were then?

I bought my cycle for Rs.150/- said the grandpa, her busband. I was ordered by my superior to buy it immediately as soon as I got my job, I refused him! I could not afford a cycle. Only with a few months of salary I could afford it, said he. His eyes lit up as I probed further. Oh, we worked all over the place. I was always put in the most difficult places since I refused to bribe.

How was it living without the mobile thatha? I asked. Mobiles? Oh, we never missed them. It had always been letters. I write a letter once a month to my parents asking for money! They gave whatever they had. Half way through my brother fell sick and so the family asked me to discontinue studies. Through some well wishers I managed to continue.

Was there an innocence in their lives which we miss? Are our lives a lot more complicated since our communication systems are a lot better and our basic needs are taken care off better? I mean, they thought only about the daily food. And the occasional travel. Education itself was an afterthought.

Listening to him made me grateful! For all their lives. For all their struggles. For without their hard and sincere labour we would not have been where we are.

And listening to them makes me miss my grandparents more. How I wish they had lived long enough for me to gather all their life's stories. 

Bye Bye Dedu! Love you!

It was almost nine on a Friday evening, as night was licking its lips in anticipation before eating up what was left of the day, nearly everybody in my small department, some with families assembled in the house of my boss. It had been a hectic day for sure. Some had worked more than twelve hours that day. Some had travelled nearly 75 kilometers. Yet they all made it. Made it for a farewell. For my farewell! And guess what, DEDU would have made it for every programme of every single person.

That is why there is love and then there is Dedu!

Behind the big smile I hid the tears. When after a tiring night of working more than 12 hours every soul in the department could assemble at 9:00 PM just to say a 'bye', how could I not cry.

Three years ago, life was very different. I had just lost my mother. The great soul she is, had also been my best friend and a pillar of strength. The mental stress of seeing her go through the final stages of her fight with the disease was indeed taxing. I had just had a big failure as well. Another one of those. Narrowly missing a civil service seat was actually not very easy. Of course the greatness of the wifey and the omnipresent family were of great strength but then I was deep in to depression.

Then DEDU happened!

DEDU was all i knew in the last three years. They were the family I knew. They were Jessie's in-laws. The work was the only hobby I had. Every single one of them was family. The jokes my brain told me were on them. The gossip with the friend was about people at work.

Many days I would just call somebody in the department and go for a dinner. Nobody ever refused. Even if they refuse, I go! And nobody ever stopped me. The favourite biriyani was the ever present menu. And love was always the side dish. Everyday somebody gave me lunch. Breakfast was paid for many times.

The trips, the outings, the nightouts, the carol rounds, the choir singing, the Christmas programme's and the umpteen other departmental programme's organised always was fun just because DEDU was sportive. Light hearted banter was an every present companion. Sometimes the pranks were on the boss too! And nobody ever complained.

When somebody told me, "I'm going for greener pastures"! I smirked within. Can life be ever so green again?

Thank you DEDU! Thank you for all the love. But for you those three years in vellore would have been very different. I have become a better person because of you. And for that, thank you. And best of all I have a wonderful family to fall back to all my life. And for that, love you.

Bye Bye Dedu! Love you!

The language of the siblings!

I never really get tired of being fascinated by this.

Few days ago I happened to see a conversation between two people 'N' and 'S' on twitter.
I din't understand much of the conversation though it was in english!. It was a language only they could understand. There was something so intricately personal in that conversation. It was the language of the siblings.

What makes such relationships real? Why does a sibling understand our life so well? Why do they relate to you better than anybody else? Why does the sibling voice on the other side of the phone give the calm assurance? The assurance that he/she will understand our lives and our language much better than anybody else.

Can friends ever speak the same language as the siblings? I presume yes! Friends surely and with time will definitely understand things in our lives much better. They may even sometimes understand the problems faced at that time better than the sibling.  But life in its entirety can only be understood by the siblings just because they know it all.

They know it all. They know the nosey aunty you hate. They know the childhood crush you never revealed your parents. They know the small misunderstandings between the parents. They know the financial conditions of the family. They understand your dad and mom and the neighbour and his family and the dad's friend and his dog you hate and everybody and everything in the same context as you have understood. And just because of that they understand life in its entirety.

I call him 'bro'! Or 'boss'. And every time we talk to each other, I challenge you to come and listen to our conversation. And I promise you, most of what we speak will be gibberish. For he understands me and my life and my language better than anybody else in the world.