Words of Wisdom, Pearls for life

Have been attending Yoga for the past 1.5 months. Bodily flexibility and mental calmness are the ones I am deriving from these sessions. I look forward to them and I can feel the silence the sessions bring into me.
Meera – the Yoga Guru – not only teaches yoga for the body, but also preaches the way of life for the mind.
I have tried penning down her words spoken during one of our sessions but I am sure I did not do justice to them.
But yet, doing this with due respects to my Guru…

Getting affected by others
Why do we allow other’s words, criticism to affect us?
Why  do we allow other’s jealousy, bitterness shake our peace?
But first, let us understand why the other’s do it.
Everyone is at her/his stage of maturity. Age, only to a certain extent is directly proportional to maturity. In most cases, it has no relationship. With their current states, they do feel happy when they spew out words of jealousy, anger and bitterness towards the others. But, little do they realize that this sort of happiness is short-lived – it wanes away very soon – maybe in a few moments. This is because when you hurt someone, the hurt comes hurtling back to you, multifold.
When we allow other’s words of anger/jealousy and bitterness to affect you, you are always like a doll with a shaking head – “thalaiyaati bombai”, a turbulent ship.
Should we allow this to happen to us?
No

So, what do we do about it?
• Listen but don’t get affected
• Understand that the person is sensitive and their “self” is hurt
• Pray for the person’s peace
• Love yourself – If you do, you will not allow anyone’s words to affect you.

Loving yourself – how do we do it? We always think that someone else should love us, is it not?
Well, try this - Sit with yourself for sometime every day, learn something creative, and thank every part of yourself that does the chores you mind asks it to.
Loving yourself will make you spread it to others.
Remember, that with time and love, things can change, people can turn around, the people you thought are bad will slowly transform to good.
Smile…
Meditate every morning – for 10 mins. Be with yourself, look into your thoughts, look forward to the happenings expected that day and place a positive note to every happening – with a smile 😊

Your sensitivity and how it affects you
If you are –
Very sensitive - a smallest trigger shakes you up
Moderately sensitive  -  a smallest trigger shakes you up to a certain extent
Not sensitive - any trigger, big or small, makes you pray for the person responsible for the trigger. I loved this 😊

Jealousy and comparison
Are you jealous of other’s kids?
Do you compare your kids with other’s?
Don’t be jealous, be with the success of other’s kids, be with the happiness of the neighbor’s family celebrating their kid’s success.
The happiness you spread around is sure to come back to you! 😊

I loved writing this and I would love to write more.

Trying to live Meera's magical words,

Kalps 

Yearbook created with memories

After moving to the other part of Silk board, I dread it whenever I have to cross it. The traffic snarls that this notorious junction has, is known to every Bangalorean!

But had to go past this junction and step into another part of the city to see my nephew’s daughter. While doing so, happened to pass by Banashankari, the place where we lived for around 12 years.

Little memories kept flooding back…

The Shanti Sagar, where Ram would buy Idlis and Vadas for Sunday breakfast,

The Ring road on which I used to have little Sanju sitting and hugging me on my scooter,

The Chemistry Sir who took my son’s tuition and how my husband and I took turns to drop him and pick my son up,

The road down to our apartment complex which held so many memories – memories of smiles and love,

I did release that I did not remember everything too. Like the unpleasant and unsure ones, the ones that did not involve smiles and laughter, the ones that my mind wanted to push back forever.

On a book with pages for every passing year, my mind was writing onto every page with a pen or a pencil. My heart has chosen when to write with a pen and when to wield a pencil.

And the print on some pages are so strongly written that the other pages bear its imprint too. 

With these memories bringing the smile on my face, I moved on and returned to my current home.

Home is where the heart is...

One day, I am sure, the memories of this home, the people I have met here, the good experiences will be recorded and retrieved too. 

Let’s make more memories in 2019 - joyful ones, the ones with love and laughter - and keep writing them into our diary of life 😊

Penning this down,

Kalps

2.0 – A technology show!

One more post – my thoughts on the movie 2.0.

A movie that has been expected for quite some time now. And finally, was released - without any major pomp that usually precedes a Rajinikant's movie.

2.0 - is a sequel to Endhiran. Directed by Shankar and the roles of Robot 2.0 and scientist Vasigaran are being played by Rajini once more. The heroine role is filled up by Amy Jackson - a female robot made by Vasigaran.

Vasigaran’s girlfriend/wife – Aishwarya Rai (Sana) who was the crux of Endhiran, was now miniscule(d) to a jealous and harping girlfriend over the phone.

The selling point of this movie are the graphics and the 3D. You experience the 3D starting from the titles. The letters in Rajini's name shooting close to you was good ☺️

I am not getting into the storyline in detail here. mmm...to think about it, there is not much of storyline either.

The movie starts with "Paksheeraja" - a 80-year old ornithologist committing suicide on a cell phone tower.

Why? Because of the cell phone tower radiation and the number of birds vanishing because of it! He has taken his cause to the Government and his efforts are in vain. His case in court is closed due to lack of concrete evidence that the birds are vanishing due to the radiation from cell phone towers.

Good point raised by Paksheeraja! In fact is this something we witness too? The disappearance of sparrows from our backyards?

Now, Paksheeraja comes back as a ghost and fills his “Aura” with the souls of the dead birds too. And LO! He becomes devilish! Oops! How did the soul of the dead birds add on to Paksheeraja’s and become devilish! Can’t digest that these poor chirping dead birds can become evil!

And then, Robot 2.0 is brought back to life to encounter Paksheeraja and deactivate his soul!

Mmmm… sci-fi movie or a “Kanchana”- type ghost movie? 

Confused story, shaky logic, and misplaced hero-villain character-portrait.

According to me, the hero is Paksheeraja and the message is “Lessen the use of cell phones; monitor the radiation levels of the cell phone towers; reduce the number of cell phone players, thereby reducing the number of cell phone towers; love and feed the birds. Because only when birds are protected, worms and other insects are eaten, and only if these insects are eaten, humans will have food…”

Makes sense, doesn’t it?

For the sake of graphics, logic and humane nature towards our partners in this Earth seemed to have taken a flight.

• Or are we getting into the era where technology is taking more importance than the matters of the heart or matters of health rather?
• Or maybe I am looking into this more than what is needed.
• Or maybe I am getting old and longing for the face to face interactions more than the communicator pings 😊

This movie is a one-time watch for the graphics and the technology used! And like the vanishing birds, the movie disappears from your head too after a very brief period of time!

Dreading a 3.0! 

Kalps

96 - As the years pass by...

After a long lull of around 8 years, I have resumed my writing and what better way to start than to write about a movie that lingered in my thoughts for some time! 

“96” – the year when a batch passed-out from their 10^th standard. These batch-mates decide to meet after 20 long years in a hotel in Chennai and with it, bring together a man and a woman, a boy and girl, who were swept away from each other in the tides of time.

The man – Ramachandran is played by Vijay Sethupathy and the woman, Janaki played by Trisha.

Ramachandran  - a travel photographer, a teacher of photography, a man who is on his own, travelling, eating what he loves, sleeping when he wants to, doing the things that the married folks are jealous of.

Janaki – a lovely lady with flawless skin, sharp nose, and a brisk gait.

The movie starts with an introduction to Ramachandran - a character portrait of this nomad. Begins with a visit to Thanjavur where Ramachandran has done did his school studies, a visit to his school and a trip down the memory lane with the school security guard Janakaraj. How nice it was to hear Janakaraj's laughter once more! 😊

Ramachandran initiates the interest of meeting all his school pals to one of his school friends and WhatsApp spreads the word and network to all the class mates instantly! Makes me wonder about our lives without WhatsApp and how it was ever possible?!

The classmates meet – the once lanky boys and girls with plaits and ribbons, now a set of bulky men and women in sarees and crying babies. But yet, the laughter comes back in an instant, hugging and glowing at each other when they meet face to face.

Ramachandran meets Janaki – with that opens up a trip back to their school days. A leaner Vijay and a cuter Trisha – of course a different set of actors playing these roles. A kudos to the kids playing these roles! Refreshing!

A nice blossoming of friendship, shyness, affection and love starts between the two. Makes you smile when Ramachandran’s heart does a loud thud-thud when he sees Janaki after their love has blossomed. The talking boy becomes mute with love – the effects of love washing over him showed very well on the young lad’s face. But before their 10^th is over, Vijay’s father shifts his family overnight from Thanjavur fearing the money-lenders from whom he had taken loan. Janaki comes to know about this a few days later and with no phones or any form of e-communication, the couple split. Physically but not emotionally….

Life has moved on – Janaki marries and settles in Singapore with a child. Ramachandran becomes a photographer and remains single.

When they meet at the gathering, it is as if life didn’t move on. The gathering ends but Ramachandran and Janaki spend the night roaming in Chennai – travelling in metro, having tea in a restaurant, and spending the night in Ramachandran’s apartment, looking at the little trinkets and reminders of Janaki's that Ramachandran has saved with him in a box – a hair clip, a dupatta and many small things that only people in love can steal and savor 😊

A few other scenes deserve special mention too:

• When Ramachandran sees the Janaki’s mangalsutra hanging around her neck when Janaki is asleep and when he quickly does a gesture of touching it to his eyes. A short stop signal to his desire…

• When Janaki wants Ramachandran to cut his hair like as is he was in his 10^th standard and the way Ramachandran looks once his hair is cut – sheepish, vulnerable, boyish

• When Janaki says “You can love someone and you can marry someone else too and be happy” to Ramachandran’s celibate status

• When Ramachandran’s heart still does a thud-thud even after 20 years on meeting Janaki. Janaki touches his chest to feel the “thud”, “thud” falls Ramachandran to the floor, swooning on the touch. Makes you roll with laughter on seeing the expressions 😊

Janaki doesn’t want to lose sight of him that night after having met him after 20 long years and knowing that Ramachandran has always been loving her.

Why didn’t they find each other in their college days? Why did they remain silent and not seek out each other?

Janaki’s flight back to Singapore is the next morning. Does she take the flight back to Singapore? Or does she stay back to relive the lost years? Watch the movie to know this 😊

For some, it might seem like the movie “Autograph” repeated. But it is not so. While Autograph was good during its time, 96 gets its well-deserved slot in the heart of lovers and friends. Little emotions captured well - a walk, a wait – weaved out in a manner that makes you stop and watch. This movie has been one among the few where the man is shown as a vulnerable, forever lover who stays alone thinking about his love. A shift again from the stereo-typed male dominated movies where the man is always a macho with no place for mushiness.

Vijay Sethupathy – accolades aren’t needed for him anymore. He competes with himself with every movie. Be it the man with a salt and pepper beard, a stern teacher with the intent of teaching perfection to the art, a lover who transforms his face into a heart, wow! He has marked the new era for heroes!

Trisha – She brings a smile onto your face. "Bold and Beautiful" is how you can describe her. Looking forward to seeing her more in Tamil movies.

And of course, the friends and school mates – ‘Bugs’ and Devadharshini need to be mentioned for their natural acting and for bringing in the needed laughter to us.

The Director/Story teller takes the crown here. Only a few Tamil movies are made in the same genre as 96.

Movies like the peacock feather hidden amidst pages of a treasured notebook 😊

Soft….

Kalps

Fig and Honey

The character I like the most in "Finding Nemo" is Dory, the little blue fish. Dory is the fish with short term memory loss. She sometimes forgets who you are after a couple of minutes.

Dory's problem might seem worrying to most around. But to me she was able to live life every moment. She gets introduced to the same person time and time again. Every relationship is experienced newly every moment.

Oh! now why am I talking about Dory here?

It's because I am becoming more and more like her. I never had a great memory for remembering people and their names. It does hit me vaguely that I have seen this person before. But I can never recollect the name most of the times. This problem has increased manifolds now.

I, in fact, goofed up on some introductions I had to make at work. Took a newcomer to a team lead to introduce her to him. But I always have been confused with one more person there who is the same height and who speaks in Tamil. So, I walked right into the wrong cubicle, not stopping for one moment to read the name tag attached to the cubicle, made him stand up with a Hi, stared at his shaven head for a brief moment thinking that something was strange, and made the introductions. He looked baffled. But nice enough not to get furious at being pulled out from a brief meeting in his cubicle and introduced to a person whom he was not having a clue about. After making the introductions, I got intelligent enough to verify his name. Lo and behold! He pointed to another cubicle and said that the “he” whom I was looking for was the "him" out there. I apologized profusely, grinned sheepishly, walking stupidly, and made the introductions again to the right person-name combination.

Later, I sat with my hand on my head worried about my fading memory. A colleague asked me with concern what happened to me. I told him I goofed up with the introductions and was worried that I was forgetting faster. He just laughed and said "You are growing old Madam"! I gave him a stare and then smiled. It's okay, I told myself.

Is it really the age? Do people start losing control of their memory cells when you near the forties? A smart doctor replied, "Mam, you are multi-tasking". He joined my gang narrating that he thinks of another patient when he is treating one and he starts losing track of what medicines he prescribed too. Dangerous for a doctor! Anyway, he did not bring the age factor there. Sweet enough to earn a sugary smile from me :-)

I know I get mixed up with directions. I get muddled up when I am bombarded with too many questions at the same time. I alter names, I forget dates, and I don’t remember addresses or phone numbers.

Ram tells me that my mind is selectively forgetting. But am I? Sometimes I do wonder if I am stepping into the world of the forgettors (club of like-absent-minded people). Though I am scared, I am happy too. I will forget incidents that bothered me, people who hurt me, experiences that scared me. But I will also forget the moments in my life that tasted like honey, people who made me feel like a princess, and events that made my heart burst with joy.

So this why I like Dory. One day, I might stare at you and ask you if I knew I before. Don’t be hurt. Start introducing yourself to me all over again :-)

Forgetting the taste of my favorite ice cream, Fig and Honey...

Let's keep swimming,
Kalps

Love's journey

Watched a Malayalam movie recently. I generally do not watch movies taken in any different language other than the ones I know. But this one had good English subtitles! :-)

The movie was "Pranayam". It was a movie about three people, who in their twilight years, happen to experience a rare sort of happiness.

Well, the story starts with Anupam Kher's family and a father and son relationship. Anupam, known as Achutha Menon in this movie, has come over to his son's home in Ernakulam to recover from a recent heart attack. His daughter-in-law, a working woman, juggles around with a job, a teenage daughter, and an old father-in-law. Menon's son, who works in one of the Gulf countries, tries calling up from time to time to soothe the fraying nerves of his wife. The family lives in an apartment overlooking the beach in Ernakulam.

The story takes an interesting turn in the apartment lift when Achutha Menon watches a middle-aged woman Grace (Jayapradha) walking into it with her grand-daughter. The aged couple greet each other with a courteous "Hello" and at that moment, they freeze in shock. Neither one utters a word. And when Grace walks out of the lift at her floor, Menon falls down inside the lift due to yet another heart attack. Grace rushes him to the nearby hospital and does the needed to get him admitted. When asked for Menon's personal details such as age and house name, Grace flourishes them without even thinking twice. Which leaves us wondering about who she is and how she is related to Menon.

When Menon's daughter-in-law questions Grace's knowledge about Menon's personal details, Grace tells her that she is Menon's ex-wife and her husband's mother...

A little flashback then takes us back into Menon's and Grace's twenties when they fall in love and marry without their parents' approvals. Though both of them belong to different faiths, they stay put that way and become young parents to a son too. But such relationships need a lot of conviction and attention to survive. With small and trivial skirmishes, the couple separate from each other and Grace's parents play some ploys to split the couple apart. As a result, Menon gets away from his hometown and travels to the Northern states with his little son and Grace stays back and gets married again.

There is a third person who gets into the story now. Grace's husband - Mathews (Mohanlal).
Mathews is ailing from a paralysis stroke and a non-functional hand and leg. Grace takes care of Mathews and his needs and the couple live with their daughter's family.

After seeing Menon again, Grace is disturbed. She is transported back to the marital life they led together and the love they once shared. She is doubly disturbed when she learns that Menon never married again and that he had single-handedly brought up their son.

Menon is discharged from the hospital and comes back home, eager to meet Grace again. Until the moment Menon met Grace, he just wanted to get back to his house in his hometown. But then, he changes his mind after seeing Grace. Menon's son, who flies in from Dubai, does not like Grace coming back into their lives. He still harbors resentment towards his mother, who divorced his father and left him when he was a kid. But he never knew the truth about Grace's parents having played a role in his parent's separation. Nor did he know that his father was equally to blame for letting his ego play a part in messing up his marriage.

Grace's mind is at a turmoil when she comes to know about her son's resentment towards her. Her only solace is in Mathew's soothing words. But how does Mathews deal with this turmoil, and with Menon peeking back into Grace's life again?

Mathews handles the strife in Grace's mind with a lot of objectivity. Whenever Grace becomes a little too moody, thinking about Menon, Mathews handles her thoughts in a philosophical manner. He lets her know that it is only natural to feel certain emotions when someone meets the "ex" and the emotions are just to be left as-is without mulling over them too much. And when Grace's daughter and son-in-law lash out at her, accusing Grace of not telling them that she was married earlier and had a son too, it is Mathews who admonishes them and asks them to mind their own lives and not to interfere in theirs. The kind of maturity shown by Mathews, the love and affection he showers upon Grace, and the way he playfully needles her at been distracted from telling her prayers at night and kissing him good night reveal the powerful portrayal of a very sensitive and loving husband and the exemplary acting of Mohanlal.

Contrary to our conclusions that animosity is sure to spew between Menon and Mathews, the two of them shake hands with each other with respect. They chat up instantly with one another and share interesting episodes of their lives. Of course, a common interest to both of them is Grace...

Menon, at one such occasion, tells Mathews that he is jealous of him as he is loved so much by Grace. He witnesses the love and affection passing between the two and in his eyes, we see him longing for the kind of love that he knew for sure he had lost.

The children of both Menon and Mathews do not like the way the trio spend time with one another. Grace's daughter accuses Grace of being a Panchali as she thinks her mother wants to spend time with both her husbands. Mathews rushes to Grace's defense and takes his ire on his daughter. He consoles his wife late in the night saying that the younger generation cannot see relationships beyond the cloak of sex, and which is why they are unable to understand that relationships can blossom beyond the body too.

Frustrated that their own children do not understand the platonic nature of the relationship, the trio then plan a secret getaway across Kerala without informing their children. They go to places they love, breathe in the beaches, sing in the hotels, and talk all about their lives and experiences. During one such evening, Mathews ends up having one more severe stroke, after which he is admitted to the hospital. During this time, Mathews tells Grace and Menon that if in case he does not recover from the stroke, he would want Grace and Menon to live together and to take care of each other. A beautiful dialog captured with such sensitivity that you have no other option but just to cry.

What happens after that? Do Grace and Menon get the chance to live together again? Or does Mathews recover to resume life with his beloved?

When we keep wondering about what would happen, Grace dies...

A massive heart attack in the attendant's room. She dies after hugging Menon one last time when she is taken aback by a thunder bolt.

A sad twist indeed when we wonder if fate will smile at Menon again. But would Menon really smile if Mathews had died? Does one ending always bring about another happy beginning? What would have Grace gone through if Mathews had died and she was given a chance to provide companionship to Menon again? Would she have stepped in as Menon's companion? If she had, would guilt also have played a part in her providing companionship and solace to Menon? Can any relationship created out of obligation and guilt be a fulfilling one? And can the society ever understand any relationship that is formed in the twilight years of life? Or, would Grace mourn Mathew's absence from her life and keep away from Menon too?

We have answers to some questions and we don't have answers to many. Our answers might be a reflection of who we are. There are no rights and wrongs in relationships. The heart decides the fate of any relationship. Hence, the director did not take a chance. He must have loved the character of Grace so much that he let her die. A typical ending to a non-typical relationship.

While we keep pondering about the turn of events steered only by tears, the two men visit the graveyard together and lay down a bunch of flowers for Grace. A butterfly hovers over Grace's grave and kisses Mathews' heart. Menon smiles at Mathews with a silent salute to Grace's and Mathew's love and wheels Mathew's chair away.

An extraordinary friendship between two men who were united by the love of one graceful woman.

Watch this movie to experience the sensitive story line, to watch the emotions of love, maturity, forgiveness, and gratitude flit across the faces of Mathews, Grace, and Menon, to witness life and love in its glory at its twilight years...

Hats off to the director who has weaved magic with Pranayam and to Jayapradha, Anupam Kher, and Mohanlal who have proved that their acting is evergreen.

Pure love, Pure pain

I met this lady while I was boarding a bus from Bangalore to Chennai. It was a day-bus, a volvo with comfortable seats and an air conditioning. The lady must have been around sixtyish. But, she was wearing a salwar and had put her hair up in a stern sort of way.

As soon as the bus started from Bangalore and after the ticket checking was over, I pulled out an "Arthur Hailey" book from my bag and started reading through it. I didn't feel like talking to anyone in the bus - I usually don't too. I like the solace and the silence.

Sitting close to me but across the aisle, the lady was also reading a book. A spiritual one. She noticed mine and casually commented about Arthur Hailey and how interesting his books are. She also knew about how the author used to sit in a specific industrial setting for several months to write a book revolving around it.

The bus stopped for breakfast and we went inside to have our famous "idli vadas". I asked her to sit along us as she was travelling alone. I wouldn't want my mother to feel lonely, would I? We came back to our seats and resumed our dialog about books and the library chain in Bangalore which is doing a good job of making people read again. She then spoke about how she sweeps the part of the road that is before her gates and about her opinions on plastic, clutter, and the lack of civic sense. It was an interesting dialog indeed.

We then started talking about our families. I understood that she was from Chennai and that she was living in Bangalore with her husband. She didn't mention about any children. I assumed that she must not be having any because mothers do tend to mention about their children in their conversations. She then went on to say that she had a lovely park in her house made for the neighbour's children and how they come and play there till their heart's content. She gave me the impression that she loved children. When the conversation starting revolving around children more, I couldn't resist popping out the question about whether she had any of her own. To that question, came a sober "yes" and a "no". To my confused gaze, she replied that she had a girl and she would have been 30 if she was alive...

I felt contrite for even popping out that question. I apologized to her. She hushed that away and continued along. Her daughter was in college. A bright 20-year old with dreams and hopes in her eyes. During one summer holiday around 10 years back, the family (mother, father, daughter) had been to Assam and the North East states for a vacation. One of their relatives had been working there and they had invited the trio for a sight-seeing trip across those states. The three of them had had a wonderful time going around many places. After almost 10 days of going around, the trio had to return to Chennai. They had to catch a train in another city early one morning. They travelled in a taxi in the wee hours of the fateful day. A speeding bus coming from the opposite direction rammed into their taxi, ending up in a screech of brakes, and shattering of glasses. On hearing the loud noise, the people close to the road ran across to pull out the people who were caught in the taxi. The lady had briefly lost consciousness and her legs were jammed between the seats in a painful position. The villagers started pulling her out of the taxi. She looked across the seat to where her daughter was sitting and pointed towards her and asked the villagers to pull her out too. They just nodded that they will take care but didn't move along to her daughter's side at all. Her daughter was seated with her eyes closed.

Her husband who was sitting in the front seat before her was also injured. Broken bones and shock. The driver had passed away. The lady and her husband were transported separately to the nearby hospital. What followed then was a whirlwind of events through which the lady was floating in and out of consciousness. Surgeries, relatives coming in, blood tests... All through these events, the lady was asking for her daughter. But no one gave her a straight answer. Then, one day, the husband came in to see her. He was undergoing multiple surgeries for the broken bones too. He was still heavily plastered when he came in to see her. His face was sober and stone-like. All he said was that their daughter had passed away. Hers was an instant death due to brain injury. Since the daughter was sitting just behind the driver, both the driver and she took the hit of the bus ramming into the taxi. There were no external visible wounds. The brain had taken the hit as the girl could have banged her head into the driver's seat. The villagers had found out about it as soon as they had felt the girl's breath under her nostrils. The mother blanked out when she heard her husband say this. A part of her knew something was wrong and that part was correct. Her husband's face had a vacant look. An overflowing dam that didn't want to be let off.

It was already three days by the time she knew about her daughter's death. She learnt that her daughter's body had been brought to the same hospital in which she was admitted, a postmortem was done in one of the floors below, and the daughter's body released for cremation. All along, the mother was not aware of it. She was not in a position to move an inch with all her multiple injuries nor was the father able to move around too. So, was the cremation over? Yes, it was. It was done by her husband's brother, who had flewn in from Chennai. She was set to fire on the shores of a river where she swam last week. She had loved to lay on the river bed so much that she had commented that she wanted so stay on at that place forever. She got what she wanted.

I am in no position to write about the mother's grief. Words cannot narrate the tears that would have eroded her heart. The family shifted to Bangalore, the father ended up with diabetes that sets in with grief, and the duo tried to pick up the pieces of their fallen life. Ten years have passed by.

All along, I was unaware that tears had started falling down my cheeks. She was crying too. She showed me the photograph of her daughter that she carried with her. A young, smiling, lovely girl beside a scooty. The mother gifted away all the jewels and sarees she had got for her daughter's wedding. When any girl in the family gets married, the mother buys her a silk saree and a matching pair of chain and earrings to go with it. With every young girl getting married, the mother watches her daughter getting married too. The parents set up a gold medal to be awarded every year to the best girl student in the daughter's college. The medal was made of pure gold. The first year, the mother had been to the college to give away the prize. But the grief was so great that the mother did not attempt it from the next year onwards. There was no point breaking down at the triumphant moment of another girl.

The mother had been to multiple gurus with the unanswerable question "why". When she didn't get any answer, she wanted to know where her daughter went and whether she was happy. She never got an answer for that either. Life moved on. The father and mother tried passing through one day after the other.

She told me about the magnitude of sorrow that engulfed both of them. The most painful of all sorrows is the sorrow of losing one's child and these parents have undergone the raw pain. They are immune to any other sorrow that would befall them in their lives. What else can pain them more? I could see her pain then. The pain felt by one mother to another. The cruelty of fate that made this mother go through this in her life. The pain of not seeing her daughter's face before she was fed to the fire. The pain of living with guilt of having survived the accident that took her daughter away. The pain of not having taken the pain from her daughter when she hit her head on the seat in front. The pain of not having fulfilled her destiny as a mother.

I couldn't talk anymore. I was with living her pain for a long time afterwards.

We arrived at Chennai and parted our ways. I escorted her to the auto stand and shook hands with her. I don't remember her name nor would she mine. But I do remember her sorrow. The sorrow that still lingers in my heart.

The sorrow of having lost someone whom you love...

Kalps

My dear little flower girl

I saw you some months back in the same traffic signal where I saw the old beggar too. A little wisp of a girl who hardly reaches my car window. Little hands, cute face, hair in two pony tails, a wary pair of eyes, and a mouth that doesn't smile. The first time I saw you, I was startled at the resemblance you had with my sister's second kid.

I saw you snaking your way through the cars and bikes, trying to sell the jasmine strands you had in a little plastic bag. I called out to you and bought a strand of the flower. I didn't bother to notice the type of flower, the quality of it, or its price. All I saw was a little girl fumbling with the strand in her little hand, trying to cut it with a blade. You took the money I gave to you and ran to the next car. I saw you from the rear-view mirror till the signal turned green.

From then on, buying flowers from you became my ritual. You did charge two rupees more than the market price but the two rupees brought you closer to me every day. I touched your head one day and asked you if you went to school. You just nodded your head without answering my question. These interactions started happening almost every alternate day, with me looking out for you in the signal and you coming running to my car whenever you saw me.

One fine evening, I asked you what your name was. "Meena" you said in your little-girl voice. I touched your head, gave your money, sometimes cut the flower strand for you when you lost the blade, and gave you an apple whenever I purchased fruit on the way home. Even then, you took the apple but I never could see the smile I looked forward too.

Little Meena, you made me cry so many times....In so many places...
On my way home when I was thinking of what would happen if you are not careful enough in the signal.
On my dinner table when I saw food in front of me and wondered if you had something to eat
When I saw the cost of a movie ticket and felt that I could have bought the whole packet of flowers from you for the price of a ticket and sent you out to play.
When I thought of you getting punished at home for not selling all the flowers that you had with you.
When I thought of taking you home with me as my child and giving you a life you needed.

But Meena, I am a coward...I couldn’t do anything except buying flowers from you, touching your little head, and giving you apples. Do you know how many days I cried myself to sleep thinking of your plight and my inaction? Do you know that I wanted to park my car and come along with you to sell flowers and talk and play with you later? But I didn’t do it either Meena. I always drove ahead when the signal turned green. I always was in a hurry to reach home. But my thoughts were with you, little girl.

And one you did smile back at me. Oh! What a beautiful sunrise it was for me Meena. That was the first day I smiled all the way home. Your smile was like an ever-glowing match that lit the candle of my heart.

But I don’t see you now at the signal. I do vaguely recollect seeing you at another signal with a group of little boys and girls selling little toys. The traffic moved on and I could not check if it was really you. A few days later, I did see a group of kids in the same signal where I met you. They were selling something too. I was not interested in them. I was searching frantically for you in the signal. And I found you. Sitting on a little push cart, you were shaking your legs. When you saw me, you waved your hand with a big smile. I waved back at you and saw you till the vehicles honked me away.

You were looking more confident. Like someone who is sure of her life, and confident that she knows the way to make money. Looks like you have learnt the art of flower selling and have made some money too. Whatever, dear girl, I wish you a good life. Would love to see you more often at the signal. Maybe one day, I will park my car and walk with you. Or maybe, I will buy off the entire lot of flowers from you and watch you play with other children…

Dear Meena, I do miss you...But I am happy if you have found your space and peace…

Yours lovingly,
The lady in a pink car

Experience the Avatar

Watched Avatar in my DVD. I am sure many of you would have watched it in the theatres and enjoyed the effects of 3D too.

This is not a movie review. But yet, can't let go without saying what I felt when I watched this movie.

Beautiful, out of the world, creative, philosophical, and dreamy...

I had always been a dreamer. As a kid, when I gazed at the star filled skies, I imagined me going over there. I wondered at the secrets those glittering stars held. I dreamt of the colors I could experience on those yonder lands. I thought I would get there after my death.

Over time, I stifled my dreamy nature and tamed my senses to stay grounded to the Earth. But now when I saw this movie, I realised that I should not have put to my dreamy nature to death. Because when I saw this movie, I noticed that it was my dreams out there in a different dimension.

The movie is not about science. It is not a piece of fiction. It is not about animation or graphics.
It is about love. Love for nature, love for every other living thing that breathes around you, love for this beautiful planet that twists and turns, for us to live.

This movie made me think of innumerable questions.

When did we start disconnecting with nature? - was it when the first human started covering himself in the name of civilization? Or, was it when the first wheel was invented?

Should we really rejoice about the innumerable inventions we make everyday in the name of Science and evolution? - We invented from nature. But we took the inventions far away from it. So, what is there to rejoice about it?

In the course of our evolution and civilization, did we ever find the key to living? A purpose to life? We never did. The evolved souls are almost there but drop off before paving the way for the others to evolve.
This movie showed that the key to make things work around you is hidden in the heart, in the mind, in the silent part of our selves that reach out to the energy levels of the other. Not in words, not in commands, not in fear.
The path is love. The magic is to relate. From within. Somewhere I could sense Paulo Coelho's Alchemist in this movie too. And his beautiful words 'And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it'.

There are movie makers like Cameron and story tellers like Coelho who have unearthed the truth of life. But yet, we have travelled so far apart in our minds that we touch the spark of truth only for a few moments and then snuff it out with the darkness of our evolution.

I watched this movie twice already. I loved the colors of Pandora. I liked the planet around which Pandora is revolving. I loved the wisps of white floating flowers that descends all over to show a sign.

You can't understand what I am saying here. You can't relate to it. That's because you don't relate to me...:-)

Just take my eyes for a few hours and watch the movie through it. Relate to it as I did. Don't analyze how humans went to Pandora. Do not think how someone can float from one body to another. Do not compare the Navi's looks with the Krishna and Hanuman of our Puranas. Just let go of what you know. Be willing to embrace the possibility of the impossible. If you still don't understand what I have written, then you will never relate to me. We will part as the Navis did with the Humans....:-)

If there is a soul inside me, I want to float over the different worlds out there and be born again as a creature with my heart and senses tuned to nature...

Started dreaming again,
A naive Kalps :-)

A Kung Fu magic

Do you watch animation movies? I do.

From Jungle book to the Kung Fu Panda, I would prefer them anyday to the normal human movies.

The first movie I watched was Jungle Book and I knew I got hooked. I laughed with Mowgli, danced with Babloo, and cried when Mowgli left the jungle to live with a lovely maiden.

Finding Nemo and Ice Age 1 were the other ones that had a tremendous impact on me. Finding Nemo was about a father fish's obsessive care for his son Nemo (topple it to get Omen), the son defying his father to do what he wants to do and losing his freedom to humans, and the father's search for his son across the oceans to Syndey. The character that stays in your heart is Dory, her short term memory loss, and her oft-repeated words to Nemo's father - "Let's keep swimming, let's keep swimming". It had more philosophy and life than any serious movie that was ever taken. Ice Age 1 was about a group of pre-historic animals (a mammoth) who in the time of ice age cross forbidding mountains of ice to reunite a human baby with its father. A beautiful movie that shows that pure love can heal grief. I have watched it so many times and I have cried so many times too...

The latest one that impressed me so much was "Kung Fu Panda". It is about the life of a big fat Panda who has a very honest and a recurrent dream of being a Kung Fu Master and how the dream blooms into a reality.

The story is set in the Orient where Kung Fu is the martial art. This Panda is a son of a duck, noodle soup maker. If you wonder how a panda can be a son of a duck, keep wondering. While the duck father dreams and wants his son to be the noodle master, the Panda dreams of being a Kung Fu master. While the Panda is dreaming, a competition is held in the kingdom where the best Kung Fu player is chosen as the master. The Panda wants so desperately to be a spectator for the event where the Kung Fu master is selected. The Kung Fu master is selected by Oogway - a tortoise who created Kung Fu. If you wonder how a slow tortoise can be a Kung Fu master, you will be convinced that no one can take his place by the time the movie ends. He is not just a Kung Fu master. He is a philosopher who believes that there are no accidents in this world.

And so, when our Panda almost reaches the gates of the event where the Kung Fu master is selected, the gates close. So, he lights crackers under his huge bottom and launches himself into the stadium and lands in the middle of it when Oogway was about to point his finger at one of the contestents who has performed the art before him and select them as the Kung Fu master. Oogway's finger rests at the bewildered Panda. Oogway's choice is made. His choice irritates the Kung Fu contestants who are trained by master Sheefu. Sheefu has trained five of his students for many years so that one of them might become the master. But Oogway would not listen to Sheefu's arguments that the Panda is an ugly riot and would never be a Kung Fu master. The only answer that Oogway has for Sheefu is that there are no accidents in this world. And to his dismay and shock, an obese Panda who has fought only in his dreams gets selected as the Kung Fu master.

From then on, this movie takes us through the Panda's journey into the world of Kung Fu. SheeFu is given the task of training the Panda. Something that Sheefu thinks as an impossible task. Sheefu successfully chases the Panda out of his training camp, only to be confronted by Oogway again who asks him to believe the master. And Oogway reiterates again that there are no accidents in this world before leaving the world by as a bunch of disappearing flowers. A scene so profound that you will either break into a smile or break down and cry. And then, Sheefu starts believing his master. A moment of self-realization.

Sheefu finds the Panda's strong (weak?) point. His love for food. And then, tempts and taunts him with food to train him in Kung Fu. Scenes where you will believe that nothing is impossible in this world. The Panda is ready to face TaiLong, the wicked Kung Fu hero who turned villain. TaiLong is a ferocious leapord who was brought up by Sheefu, trained by him, only to turn his back against his master for trying to learning the forbidden and all powerful secret of Kung Fu. Oogway on seeing TaiLong's wicked ambitions makes him immobile and keeps him imprisoned. But Tailong escapes when Sheefu sends a messenger to check on him. A wisp of feather from the messenger falls on Tailong's iron prison and this provides the key for Tailong's escape. It might be hard to believe that a feather can be so powerful to release someone from a hard iron prison. But it does drive home the point of the power of doubt, the misery caused by the lack of trust, and the strength of the wicked when goodness starts doubting itself.

Sheefu takes the Panda to the birth place of Kung Fu and trains him in the martial art. An impossible made possible and then, made perfect too. After Sheefu is convinced about the Panda's skills, he takes him to the place where the secret of King Fu is secured. This secret has been protected for ages by Oogway in a small flute like casket. When we wait along with Sheefu with bated breath to know what is written, the Panda opens the roll to see nothing in it but his reflection. He gives it to Sheefu who with much fear and a sense of guilt (no one other than the Kung Fu master should read the secret), opens up the secret fold of paper. Sheefu, just like the Panda and just like us, sees the empty page. He turns it around on all sides only to see his face reflecting back on the shiny surface. There are no secrets in this world. While we wonder whether it is a key to some other puzzle, it slowly dawns on Sheefu that the secret lies within each of us.

Secrets are nothing but empty spaces, waiting for us to write on it, to act on it, and to own it.

Will the Panda defeat Tailong? He does...:-) He destroys his powers and leaves him immobile for life. Though the fight resembled a typical fight scene from an Indian movie, it still deserves a round of applause. The evil is defeated and goodness prevails. It is not the strength of the body. It is the goodness of the heart and the trust in the universal truth that there are no accidents in this world.

The impossible is there in your mind and not in your heart - A Panda teaches us this beautiful lesson by making his Kung Fu dream come true...:-)

Life-cycle of a butterfly

Life cycle of a butterfly - One of the early lessons in Biology. When I did read that lesson, all I did was try drawing the life-cycle diagram as accurately as possible. The diagram carried maximum marks was what my teacher said. It was another lesson to get over with. Another diagram in my record.

But recently, I had the time to look at this life-cycle with interest. This interest started with my curosity on how silk was made. I have watched documentaries on how silk was made in doordharshan. The egg-like pupae of the silk worms are boiled in hot water and sik threads are made out of them. Till many years, I did not perceive anything violent in it. I liked wearing silk paavaadais (long traditional skirts) and sarees too. Though Sankaracharya has asked brahmins not to wear silk saree (the traditional maroon nine yards) during muhurtham, I had never looked into his request deep. I remember lamenting too that my nine-yards did not have lot of zari....:-( I grew up and so did my likes and dislikes. I now know that a lot of silk worms are boiled in their pupae stage to make silk. I stopped wearing silk.

The caterpillar is a repulsive looking worm. And so are many other worms. A slimy body with hundreds of legs crawling on wet surfaces. But these worms build a cocoon around themselves when they are fully grown and transform themselves completely into those colorful flying butterflies. I was interested more in this transformation that happens. The cocoon is called as a pupa. It is a white cotton like casket that completely masks the caterpillar. And all this is woven out of the worm's mouth! The worm goes into silence for around 2 weeks! without food, or maybe air too? It sheds its skin and numerous legs. It grows it wings and colors itself completely.

After two weeks what comes out is a colorful creature that does not have any semblance to the creature that went into it two weeks earlier. The same cycle holds good for any worm that belongs to the caterpillar family (if there is one). I recently saw a similar happening in Animal Planet where a worm under water became a moth which flew in the air. The water was home to the worm but for the moth that came out of the cocoon, the water was a grave. Their lives were so different that it tough to even perceive that they share the same heartbeat. But these moths came out of the water and flew into the air only just to mate, lay eggs in water, and then die...Their beautiful flying lives end in such a short span of time. The lives of the silkworms are even worse. We end their lives even before they find their freedom. What could be happening inside the cocoon when it is boiled in water?

How does a fully grown caterpillar know when it is time for it to build a cocoon around itself?
How does the caterpillar stay inside with all its pain without food or water or air too?
How does the worm choose its own death for the birth of another creature completely?
Are they more sacrificing than the humans around who, with their brains would even kill their kith and kin rather than sacrifice their precious self?
What kind of transformation is happening inside the pupa?

We can explain this scientifically saying that skin and legs are shed and wings are grown and so on...But there is something so profound happening in this silence. The change of forms... The letting go of the past and breaking away into the future... The act of supreme sacrifice of one form in favor of another...
Is this why the saints go into silence? Is this the form of meditation for those worms?
Or is this the enaction of Gita in front of us where Krishna tells Arjuna about the form and the formless?

All I can understand is that the silence was needed for those worms at that period. The silence to break free from their form so that another one can be born. The patience was required to wait for the right time to break free. The fasting from food, water, and air was needed to give birth to another life that can experience another level of joy...

Try damaging those spongy balls, and you will have released a butterfly with no wings. A butterfly that will not flit around the flowers dancing to the tune of the divine.

I don’t think those worms teach you a lesson on their life cycle. They teach you the art of letting go, the magic of silence and patience, the wisdom of form and the formless...

I surely wouldnt have gotten a pass mark for this inference. But I might have paved the way for my mind to break free...:-)

Aching to break free
Kalps :-)

Awareness of death, the key to live...

Its one of the few books that moved me intensely..So much so I wept into my pillow wracking with sobs... We do take so many things in our lives for granted, dont we?

Though I already knew this, it took a writer like Paulo Coehlo to make me live the statement as Veronika did, in his latest novel "Veronika decides to die"!

Its the story of a woman in her twenties who decides to die...and for what? because life is the same yesterday, today and would be too tomorrow. So self-sufficient that it is boring...a good job, nice food, loving parents, clubs to enjoy, boyfriends for company....monotonous as any other day!

Unluckily she escapes the bid on her life and ends up in a lunatic asylum only to find out that she would be living for a week more. Her heart had been damaged to a great extent by the overdose of sleeping pills.

She lives her life those seven days...she discovers herself, her dreams, her joys, her desires, her love, her sorrow, her pain, her hatred...she allows herself to live completely 'coz she might not have another chance...

Madness is something we do relate to with screams, torn dresses and crazy laughs. We see a different side to madness altogether through this book. A person is mad 'coz he doesnt live life
according to a set of soceity norms, coz he or she does not think like the others around them,
'coz somebody said that the world is round and not flat, 'coz someone said that the earth goes around the sun and not vice-versa...! We are all mad in some part of our lives or the other....?

People are different just like there are no two leaves looking alike in the forest. Thats the way God created us. But we strive to be the same, suffocate our dreams and stick on to the social
stream, bend and break our loved ones to follow our rules and systems....and this forcible
attitude to be the same brings about the natural madness inside all of us.

We want security, stability, surety in our lives and we build walls around us and never live life passionately every moment....and it requires death to shatter our insanity and make us live intensely...!

So beautifully written that I saw death looming ahead, I wanted to live life today and NOW as I wont have a tomorrow...

A "must read" book of madness and wisdom, death and life, despair and love....!

lovingly living,
Kalps