Home .. Sweet Home

I found a home..

Moved to my own space at http://milestogo.in/ .

Please do visit me there.

(Right now, I have exported all contents to the new space. Have been keeping aside all new ideas because of the work that had to be done there and also because of the laziness to post it at two places. Now I think I can start afresh.. :-) )

Rain Drenched ..

Usually, I find something to write first, and then only open the notepad to start typing. Today, its the reverse, I don't have anything to write. "Then, why are you here, idiot, to waste our time?!!", you may ask. The thing is, I suddenly remembered this was situation which made the start of everything.

As I started off, or rather kicked off, everything started because I badly wanted to write. When I was a small child, my only desire was to become "famous". I admired and adored each famous lady. One day I may start becoming mother Teresa, and next day I wanted to seek IPS, following Kiran Bedi, the very next day I would be flying to moon :-) The madness went on, as I grew up.

One thing which never changed was, the feeling of a filled cup at times. Too much ideas .. But how to express!! I am sad, can I sing it out :-( But my parents said my voice was not good enough; whereas my brother sung well during his childhood days. There is a beautiful place on the way... How can I store it for future!! I didn't know how to draw well .. Such brimming ideas led me to writing, the only thing which I could do. With a pen and paper at hand, anyone could write :-)

But they never came into light .. Remained in the darkness of my closed diaries :-) Then comes the Pre-Degree days, where anything and everything was colorful. From the school life, when suddenly jumped into a college life, that was a blast indeed.

There was Rashid (I don't know where he is now), who wanted to create a hand written magazine. My first public entry, thus was some musings about a "death anniversary" photo, which comes in news paper every year and which never gets aged. Somehow, he found it worth publishing.

Some days back, I happen to remember about this story, when I read about Prof. Eachara warrier somewhere. He fought with shadows around 3 decades to get any information about his son Rajan, who "disappeared" during the emergency (1976-77). The police caught him from his college (Regional Engineering college, Calicut, now known as NIT Calicut). It was known afterwards that he died in police custody at the kakkayam police camp and was burned. Kakkayam police camp is now notorious for the cruel modes of punishments employed there during emergency. Eachara Warrier wrote his autobiography about his struggle for justice, and the pain and suffering he and his family has undergone. Oru achante Orma kkurippukal (Memoirs of a father). You can read the translation of the book online here.

The picture of Rajan is familiar to all Malayalis, and that's a picture which never got aged. Death stops aging. (Chapter : The Burden that the mother entrusted)

"She was not aware of Rajan's tragedy. Whenever I came to Ernakulam from Calicut she used to ask for Rajan. I told her lie after lie. It made her uncomfortable. She started loosing faith in me, and behaving oddly with her loved ones.


Rajan's continued absence troubled her, and I had to suffer as a result. She expected Rajan to be with me whenever I came from Calicut, and anxiously awaited him. When she knew that Rajan was not with me color of disappointment would spread over her face. The depth and darkness of distress on her face went on increasing. She stopped talking to others, and went into a world of silence. Sometimes she accused me of not loving Rajan. She confided to relatives and friends that this was the reason I was not bringing Rajan along when I came. She murmured in secret that I never loved her or Rajan.


Meanwhile, many of Rajan's friends got married. One day when I reached Ernakulam she asked me, "All of Rajan's friends have got married. Are you not a father too? Are you not worried that he is yet to get married?"“"Oh, our son is dead," I felt like telling her then. The sentence got choked in my throat. At that moment I felt vengeance against her and the world. Regaining the balance of my thoughts, I would say, "I am trying to find a suitable girl for Rajan. But it's not that easy, you know?"” Her response used to be a lone empty stare of disbelief.


On March 3, 2000, Rajan's mother left me forever. A week earlier I had been to see her. As I bid farewell, she held my hands, still lying on the bed. There was a painful request in her eyes, "Will you bring Rajan along when you come next time?"” I couldn't look at her face. The guilt of telling her lie after lie had haunted me for years. Five days later I went to her again. Death was playing hide and seek somewhere near her, but she remembered everything.
She called me, "Will you do one thing for me?"
"Sure," I answered.
She gave a small packet of coins to me. Those were the coins she saved in that box. "


This is how he concluded his words. : (Chapter : with malice towards none)


"I shall stop. The rain is still lashing out. I remember my son when this heavy rain drums my rooftop, as if someone is opening the locked gate and knocking at the front door. It is not right to write that a living soul has no communication with the soul of the dead.


I hear his songs from a cassette on this rainy night. I am trying to retrieve a lost wave with this tape recorder. The good earth is getting filled with songs till now unheard by me, this crude man. My son is standing outside, drenched in rain.


I still have no answer to the question of whether or not I feel vengeance. But I leave a question to the world: why are you making my innocent child stand in the rain even after his death?"


..... And, he left the world, throwing that question to us, a question sharper than any weapon designed so far.. A question which is meant to pierce the heart of any thinking man.

I am quoting from the afterword of the translator too :


"I am putting down these sentences after translating the last word of this book, Memories of a Father. The day has not dawned yet and it is raining. ...


It is raining. I too am drenched. The rain cleanses everything, but scars of old wounds remain; they cannot be washed off that easily. Because of these scars, the struggle should continue, to recreate us as more beautiful people. The day has not dawned yet. It is still raining."


The Tail end of the story : (Press report after Professor's death)


"Democratic Indira Congress (Karunakaran) leader K. Karunakaran on Thursday was visibly disturbed when he was asked to comment on T.V. Eachara Warrier, father of P. Rajan who disappeared during the Emergency.


Talking to mediapersons here, Mr. Karunakaran termed the incident during the Emergency "unfortunate." "But what is Eachara Warrier's importance? What is his contribution to the country? Is he the representative of any political party or movement? Is he a litterateur? Why haven't you bothered to find out the pain of a woman whose son was killed in the police station?" Mr. Karunakaran asked. The DIC(K) leader said he had won all the elections held after the Rajan case."


Mr. Karunakaran was the Chief Minister of Kerala during the emergency.

Standing by the bank and watching the highway of life

Just got this from my Diary of 2001. The sheet was one of the lecture notes :-D, and the hand writing was Rupa's. One of the moment's of creative discussion I suppose.

She has written the name of poetess at the end as "Dorothy
King". Google didn't show me such an author, nor I have read any other work of hers. Yet, the hope about life couldn't be more beautiful and optimistic than this.

They say life is a highway
And its mile stones are years
Now and then there is a toll gate
Where you buy your way with tears

It's a rough road, a tough road
And it stretches broad and far
But atleast it leads to a golden town
Where golden house are.

Strange are the bonds..

Being back from home, I was just cleaning up my realm in our flat (exact half of a shelf). I happened to flap through one of my old diaries, and a paper slip fell down. It was the poem by Madhusoodanan Nair, which he recited in the movie "Daivathinte vikruthikal" (God's mischieves). The poem sings beautifully about the worries of an Anglo-Indian who had to leave his home in Kerala to France.

On a sudden impulse, I attempted a quick translation. Here is it. :-) A human mind which refuses to let go the treasures, and holds on to it passionately..

Waking me up from deep sleep of darkness
You bestowed me the hued feather of life
And the sky for my wings to flap in too
And gifted a nest on the branch of your soul ..

Where else do I smell you..
Even in blossoms or in soft breeze
Where else do I find the river which -
You fill yourself with the life melting away..
Where else is the sky you spread yourself
With the petal of your dreams..

Even while the nightingale cries
And the lullaby of a stream dies out ..
And, in my dreams when a hard stone
Turns into sweetest fruit..
And, time loses its stride..
Yet my heart is bound to yours ..
And, I seek refuge in you ..


Can't let go..
I can't let myself go from your heart
Whichever paradise beckons me ..
My heaven is when I burn and melt myself
To the depths of your soul...
Dissolving myself in you .. is the eternal truth..

Rain Soaked..

It's been more than two weeks since I was away from blogger world. Had so many things to worry about. Now that everything is settled, and I am back to my Quadrant 2, I thought I would write something.

The rain is pouring forth outside, with the pitter-patter and the naughty wind. Yes, monsoon is 2-3 days earlier in Kerala.

I love to see the clouds running in, darkening the whole sky.. Then a sudden thunder .. Wind, all trees start dancing .. Then comes the sound like throwing sand over the roof .. Yet another round of fire ..

I first ran to my apartment to get my camera and take some photos of the rain and the dancing trees.. But I couldn't reach office back..



Lucky that my camera lens didn't get spoiled .. The wind was very strong.



The wildness of the rain and the speed of a car, when captured in sepia, came out like this.



When the rain gave me a little break, I ran back to office. Stood in front of the office building for sometime, enjoying the transition of noisy rough durga turning to a shy soft spoken stream on the ground with just a few drops falling down. And the wind, there was no trace of such an existence. Everything still, as if nothing happened... Except the small streams and puddles of water around ..



I believe that, rain has different language in different places.. Last year, we went for a trip to kodaikanal, from office.. The last destination was the kodai lake for boating ... We might have been in boat for 10 minutes when the rain started pouring in.. We sped back to the shore.. The rest is in picture.. How it rains in the lake ..



while we were waiting near the lake, the rain taught us a rare kind of sacrifice..



With rain, comes accidents. Rain opens so many doors for death to come in, and pick up people in masses. Floods, land slides, lightning what not..

It was 5 years back on a July 9, Malayala Manorama press photographer Victor George gave his life while covering a land slide near idukki.


I loved his photos.. I didn't know then that I would take a camera in my life, and it would turn out to be my passion. But I loved Victor's photos of rain .. I devote this post to the fond remembrance of such souls, who touched the heart of rain and walked with it .. Knowingly or unknowingly..

Koi Louta de - Touching Lyrics..

For all the nostalgic people, and for all friends in my life , especially those who are characters in the article below.

"Suhanee Raat Dhal Chukee, Na Jaane Tum Kab Aaoge"..
Muhammed Rafi started singing from the walkman connected to a car stereo in our class. Haroon was the owner of the stuff, and the day was our farewell day from government college Malappuram. I was passing out after having completed my Pre-Degree course. The whole room was noisy, what else can you expect from a 89 member class!! Amidst the noise, four of us sat in a corner with Rafi's magical voice flowing along.. The walkman was old, and the sound coming out itself had an antique effect, still, rafi went on "Na jaane tum kab aaoge..". The song still takes me back to those colorful days, filled with creative arguments and fun. I may attempt to write about it later..

Some songs stick to our mind associated with some moments - either good or bad.

Jayesh came online and was telling about some song he heard that morning, which remained in his lips till the time he messaged. Somehow, it took me back to a day in Food Court, where jayesh and Aneesh were sitting and singing - "Chaudvin Ka Chand Ho, Ya Aaftaab Ho Jo Bhi Ho Tum Khuda Ki Kasam, Lajawab Ho". That was the testing session of two cordless mikes. Again Rafi ..

"Chaahe tum kuchh na kaho maine sun liya
Ki saathi pyaar ka mujhe chun liya
Chun liya
Maine Sun liya.." - Liya Paul's favourite.. She was my room mate for quite a time during BTech, and good friend too. The basic trait we shared was extreme laziness. The song always had all the love towards George Mathew ;) (The 7-8 year old love ended up in the nuptial knot last year).
"Pehla nasha
Pehla khumaar
Naya pyaar hai naya intezaar
Kar loon main kya apna haal
Aye dil-e-bekaraar
Mere dil-e-bekaraar
Tu hi bata" .. dedicated to Liya Paul, or rather Liya George :-)

Tinky is one of the first characters whom everyone related to me knows. We became friends from the very early days of BTech, because of her humor sense and my tolerance :-D She used to dream a lot and worked for making the dreams come true too.. But there were always her crazy dreams like running around a tree with her boy friend. Unfortunately, she didn't have one - hence, the window of our hostel room became the tree and she would hang on it and around (ofcourse, alone) - "Ghum hai kisi ke pyaar mein dil subah shaam
Par tumhe likh nahin paaon main uska naam
Haaye raam, haaye ram.. "


Tinky, Rupa and me were the caroms board combination during the first year of BTech. It happened to be the caroms board combination because of our heights. Tinky, Rupa - 5 feet and me the tallest of the lot, with 5'2". Don't misunderstand that we were experts in carroms. The idea was Bobby Sir's, that with a 4th person of almost same height we would make fine legs for a carroms board. Rupa loved the song "Pal Pal dil ke paas, tum rahthe ho..", and "choo kar mere man ko, kiya tu ne kya ishaara..", which was always heard in our room during 3rd semester (though in the coming semesters it changed to some other song.. "tum dil ki dhatkan ho" - Best wishes to both of them)

"(mere nainaa saavan bhaadon
(phir bhi meraa man pyaasaa..)"
- Sojish was running behind it to know the meaning of the song. Thats how I first noticed it. Whenever I feel bad, it fills me with peace.

I am not able to find a proper conclusion for the article. It was just an outburst of nostalgia I was feeling these days. Hence I leave it this way, filled with memories and sweetness of voice. I wish I had an audio blog. :-)

Disclaimer : 1. If any of my friends felt bad that they didn't have place here, I deeply apologize in advance. Songs are never ending. This article will surely have a sequel in near future, with more nostalgic moments.

The Rang De Basanti Effect

"There are two primary choices in life - to accept condition as they exist or accept responsibility for changing them.
RANG DE BASANTI is about changing them"
- Rakesh Omprakash Mehra (Director of Rang De Basanti)

Let me warn all my readers first - this is not yet another review of Rang De Basanti. In the movie, there is more than one discussion about corrupt politicians and the pathetic situation of a poverty-stricken India. The youth which represents our generation sighs during each discussion that nothing can't be changed in this country. We sigh along with them, and when Aamir Khan utters the words, "kill him" (about killing the corrupt politician), we hold our breathe and wait. What is gonna happen.. Does the system change?

Let the debate about the movie go on .. Whether the climax was effective.. Whether the movie was dragging .. anything. But, in the end, what stays back in mind is the quote : "There are two primary choices in life - to accept condition as they exist or accept responsibility for changing them."

Changing conditions can be either by making a living or breaking it.

I get always confused by the people who come begging in buses and trains. Since I have to pass through a lot of bus stands or railway stations before reaching home, the frequency of stretched hands is really high. There are many arguments regarding giving money to them. One is that, we should never give them money because it would make them rely on begging as a means of living. However, most often, especially when I travel alone, I find it too difficult to turn away from a persistent stretched hand.

In such a situation,
- will you blame the govt who does nothing to ban begging?, or
- will you give them a coin so that they don't disturb you any more? Or
- will you think of accepting the responsibility to contribute your share towards changing the conditions?

In Poornam, there is a group of people who accept responsibility for changing conditions. They didn't kill corrupt politicians to change lives. Instead, they just work silently to make some lives happier, to bring smiles to a few faces. A very good percentage of Poornam people take part in this mission. As part of doing this, a few volunteers from Poornam make a visit to Palluruthy Relief Settlement every month.



Palluruthy Relief Settlement (PRS), rehabilitates beggars and destitute from streets. PRS is run by Corporation of Cochin. Each time we visit, there would be around 250 inmates. Things are not smooth always, with a lot of mentally challenged people.






Poornam adds a few drops of contribution each month to the big ocean of needs they have.

There are lots of lessons we need to learn from such visits. The first and foremost is our duty to the society we live in. Each visit reminds us, how blessed are we in our big apartments and air conditioned offices. We are expected to give it back to the society - let it be a combined effort or single.

Add your drop too, which would make atleast one person smile. It doesn't matter where you add the drop of your kindness because all good deeds are bound to reach the same ocean.

"Little drops of water, Little grains of sand
Make the mighty ocean, And the beauteous land
Little deeds of kindness, Little words of love,
Make our earth an Eden, Like the heaven above"

- Mrs. J. A. Carney

Century is to Sachin ..

"And that is the reason why this victory is great, because different players have made contributions to the win." - Sachin Tendulkar

Sachin may have different reasons to be happy when he added each century to his score sheet. I am not an ardent cricket fan who sets auto refresh for the score page in browser for 5 minutes,yet refreshes the page in 2 minutes biting nails. Also, I have stopped watching matches (regularly) long ago (may be after the 1999 world cup). And my cricket interest limits to knowing Dhoni and sreesanth. Hence I don't have a topic to discuss in usual groups gatherings where the first question would surely be "whats the score?"..

So, what am I supposed to write about Sachin then? :-) Well,the number 100 has its own charm :-)

I installed a stats counter to the blog on April 16th. I just wanted to know which entries got more reads. Initially it was a flop because I knew exactly who would visit and read. All my readers were personally intimated when I made the first two-three entries around.

The stats today shows a number 100 (within these 2 weeks). And, I have my own reasons to be happy. :-) Yes, Thanks to all of you who encourage me to write more.

Trust..

Long time back, I had an argument with someone in Poornam. The argument was that I declared, "we shouldn't trust people easily, especially guys..". [No offense meant, please]. I was just meaning that we shouldn't trust a person until we know him/her very well for a considerable time.

The poem below was written during the argument. Just had a chance to remember it yesterday, dug it out and here it is : [ the language is kind of sluggish. May be I will modify it a bit when I get time and republish]

Why does man have to fear
The coming and going dangers??

It's that the man is eager
to ensure the safety first.
That's why he takes shelter
when it is thundering heavily.
The same time he searches shades
when the sun burns him by the heat.

But when the sun shines its glee
and birds chirp on the tree
The man is there to see all
and enjoy the joyous time.
Never does he want to do this,
where he may hurt by that.

The love is the sun of his life
which can burn him by choice.
If there is trust with love,
it's like the sun in spring
If there is trust missing
the love burns him for sure.

For his on safety he will first,
take an umbrella of non-trust
and he choose to walk in the sun
and see the world around.
When he sees the spring around,
and a sun that don't hurt
he will surely throw of his shade
and jump to the sun of spring
where there is happy and trust
and love and joy live together.

Happiest Moment..

"What was your happiest moment in Poornam?" - My Queenie Aunty's fruit salad had only just came. The question was from Amar, while we were sitting in the Koder House, Fort Cochi on the Easter Day. We, means Amar, Sangeetha, Sojish, Visakh and I. "Well.. hmmm.. Amar, I was always happy with Poornam, except the occasional frustrations..". Having consoled atleast myself with an answer, I went back to my fruit salad. Being not a person who would give in easily, Amar persisted in - "Still, think of it .. What was your happiest moment in Poornam". "err.. I haven't given it such a considerable thought till now".

I thought about it. However hard I tried, I didn't find the happiest moment. Not because there isn't any, but, there are many.

If I list down the moments here, those who don't know me will get bored because it would not be a point of interest for them. And those who are close to me, will again get bored, because those are the stories which they already know.

Anyway, looking back, there is a 22 (or 21? Not sure) year old girl sitting in front of an interview panel. The basic question was, "how would you be able to manage your family and work together after you get married, especially after having kids too". Being as reckless for the age , pat went the answer, "I can appoint an aaya for the kids". The picture then zooms into a paper, in which she was asked to write down the syntax of the socket function, which she had used many times in her final year project. And, on a close-up view, the paper showed only "socket( , , ).. (scratching head) what was the parameters by the way..". Anyway, by whatever destiny in store for her, she got through .. [the photo on top is the beautiful building she entered and started her career from].

And its been 2 years + 6 months since that interview was conducted.

Within these time duration, she has learned many things about life, and has come a lot way from the quiet , yet noisy kid who passed out of MES Engineering college in 2003. Also, she has learned that "appointing an aaya" is not a solution to balance famliy and work (though she is not yet married).

Being happy with life is always relative. That too, when it comes to work, we are in the midst of comparisons always. For me, while working in Poornam, questions vary from -

1. How much do you get there?
2. How much do you earn compared to your "this" friend, or "that"?
3. Why don't you go to a "big" company like Infosys, or Wipro?
4. It's been two years right? No plans for jumping company?
5. Why don't you go to B'lore or Chennai and try for a job?

If you have a solid, logical answer which satisfies your heart for each of these, you will be happy. The answer needn't satisfy the person who posed the question. Because, mostly he wouldn't be asking it for an accurate answer [assuming its not your parents].

Whenever you go out, atleast one person would ask you, "where are you going?". My father used to tell the story of Balan Nair in my village. He always answered such a question with, "just to Bombay only". The questioner would blink his eyes twice and open his mouth. If some onlooker questioned Balan Nair about the genuineness of the answer (because he would be "going to Bombay", in his natural "mundu" and shirt which he wore during work, which happen to be masonry), Balan Nair would reply, "He didn't ask the question to know where I am going...".

For people in Kerala, job and marriage of children etc are just topics to ignite a discussion whether it is a wedding party, or a funeral function. :-)

The above questions are only from around. Among colleagues and friends, it would always be more critical questions, like "Am I doing the work which aids my career on a long-term view?", "Or, where will I stand in 5 years from now?", which are, to be frank, extremely logical. Yet again, here also, the "Balan Nair Effect" persists. If you feel atleast a tinge of hopelessness in your answers when you hear these questions, you can't remain happy anymore. Either find an answer which satisfies your heart or cease to be happy :-)

Coming back to Amar's question, which now ultimately takes me to Robert Frost.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Head of the fountain of Happiness..

"This is a happy world if we clean the head of the fountain of happiness within us"..

I got these words as mail from the famous malayalam writer C Radhakrishnan.

The discussion was about how to keep ourselves at our best. In his novel "Ullil Ullathu" (Roughly translated as "what's inside"), he relates the technique of cleaning the slate. Think of our mind as a slate, sit, relax, breathe hard and try cleaning the slate for a second.

"We gather a lot of junk as we live on, mentally as well as physically. House cleaning takes care of the one kind whereas the other accumulates to boggle us down. Just clean it and the difference is obvious" - his words again.

I am not here for reviewing the book. But read it, if you are a malayali, who knows malayalam language. (I don't know if it's been translated to any other language yet).

It entertains all those who are close to science - A strong philosophy of how all lives in this universe has their own way of "being together". And, how we can make ourselves better by improving our self. And, how each life in the universe interact with the other through "pulses". At same time, its a thriller too, which makes it enjoyable to all classes.

If you are interested in the science of it only, rather than a novel, you can read it here - Stuff and Style of Universe

Doing what you Love..

Chakky has already written on the topic Do only what you love!! And I don't want an argument with him on that, because he is very good at arguing. He could have taken up LLB as well, if it was not for Engineering. :)

Anyway, this is not the same. :-)

During our talk today, Visakh just remembered that he has a blog of his own. Regarding a train journey (first half of his blog), I share exactly the same feelings with him. However, there is one feeling which he hasn't expressed in his writing, but one which I enjoy a lot. I asked Visakh to try a guess. And this is the list he gave me.
1. FOOODD!!
2. The pulling of wind on your clothes?
3. The rhythm?
4. The wait for the eventual destination? That every second leads you towards where you wanna get so anxiously?

Atlast, he admitted his failure and I reveal the great secret here!!
Sitting on the door steps of the train :-D

Well, I am not joking. There are craziest things we can do in life which, on executing, others might stare at you. During a train journey, it can be sitting at the door step with legs outside and enjoy the wind and the rhythm of the movement.

Once I started doing this by putting my legs out of the train and was preparing to sit comfortably, when an old lady near me thought that I was going to jump out of the train. She shouted at me and all the people in the train started staring at me as if I were a suicidal maniac.

In Visakh's words (slightly edited by me): "people choose to live in templates.. Walk along beaten tracks.. Take only the pleasures that is promised along the track.. And they are wary of people who are not like them.. They don't know how to deal with them and predict them.. Those that cant be predicted is a possible hazard.."

There are still crazier stuffs which, on seeing, can make your Grand ma's eyes bulge. :-)

White water Rafting
Chakky started it off, as a suggestion towards our shift change outing. An alternative to the regular destination (Moonnar). Here is how he canvassed people for it. Anyway, the pics speak for themselves.


"Just an hour's drive from Kochi and you are on the last stretches of Kerala's famed River Periyar, winding down its long journey through the Western Ghats. Just the perfect setting for an adventure experience shooting the rapids of the Periyar. What makes any whitewater experience so compelling, so satisfying, and so incredibly exhilarating? It's for real! No video game or amusement park ride can compare to this primal adventure.

As you drift through the river with its thick forested shores, the growing roar of the next rapid pierces the air. Anticipation mounts as your raft picks up speed and approaches the drop. You follow your experienced river guide just as he yells, "All forward!" There isn't time to think. You paddle forward, stroke after stroke, when suddenly you glance up just as a towering white wall of water crashes over the bow, you keep digging in as the raft peaks the next wave, rocking you back only to propel you forward once again as it thrusts downward in the next instance a roller coaster of excitement!
Programme 0800- Arrive at Bhoothathan kettu, the starting point. Briefing & familiarization with the equipment. Start the run.
1330 - End run. Depart.
Safety: All equipments are certified & of International standards & quality. The river guides have 10 years or more experience in guiding.


Eligibility: It is necessary that the participants do not suffer from heart ailments, hypertension & problems associated with the backbone.

Tariff: Rs 850 per person"

Ours was a group of very dynamic people. And, the trip was mixed with music and action. And even after 2 years I can just feel the helplessness of that rain in River Periyar without an umbrella with even not our hands to shield our head because we had to keep on rowing,

and the taste of those few bananas Sunjith had in his bag, when everyone started burning with hunger. The calmness of Periyar where we could even jump in and the roughness of rapids which needed all our strength to get over it.

Thoughts..

I wrote these thoughts on a different occassion. Anyway, on Amar's advise, I am posting this here so that I don't lose track of my write ups on a later stage. These are some of my childhood memories.

Festival time. I wore my new dress (green skirt and yellow top with a big golden button on the buckle), and went out with my friends. We used to visit all my friends' homes, and had sweets from there. With the maximum fuss and noise we could make, we moved along the road; me beaming in my new dress. The usual plan of action is to have sweets from one house, and that friend joins us to move to the next target and so on. From the gate of the 5th person, we called out for her. Her mom came out and told us that she was not coming that day. The noises subsided a bit, though it didn't stop. We asked why. She smiled and simply commented that she was a quarrelsome kid, and anyway invited us inside to have "payasam". Even after we entered the house, she didn't turn up. After much shouting from her mother, she came out wearing the oldest of her clothes. Her mom, again with a smile explained that her dad couldn't buy her a new dress. She was very sad and humiliated and she decided not to go out for the day. Choosing to wear the oldest of her dress was her way of protest. For the first time, I felt bad in my green dress.


I understood that, not having a new dress hurts, at times.

My mom had an acquaintance who used to visit our home so often. She was a jovial kind of person and I loved her visits very much. Her stories revolved around almost everything in our small place. She had a daughter of my age and she used to take my old clothes for her. In our place, English medium schools were not even heard of that time. All children studied in the same government primary school. And she happened to be my classmate. Later on, when she came wearing my old dress to school, my friends started asking me, "isn't it your dress?" I was not mature enough to understand the hurt feelings on the other end. Still, out of the embarrassment of admitting that we give away things (I don't still know why!) I used to deny the fact. After the first incident itself, she stopped wearing my dress.

Wearing other people's dress hurts, at times.

Children understand poverty in a different way from what elders do. But at some point, what we need to realise is, there are many things we can do to bring a smile on others.

"I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; I will not refuse to do the something I can do." - Helen Keller

Kicking Off..

I am supposed to type in "this-is-my-first-blog I-dont-know-what-to-write". but I hate to admit both. Writing was always (or, still is?) my dream. Ever since I got out of the comic books, i think it was there.

My first story book was a bit heavy one, hard bound with a red cover.

The first story was about a chick and duckling. The story goes like this : the chick mimics all actions of the duckling with a perky "me too". And, then the duckling decided to go for a swim. Chick follows with the same "me too", but it was in for a surprise, swimming was not its cup of tea. And as every children's story ended, this one also said "and the chick learned a good lesson".

As is the trend around me, being a computer engineeer, and working in a Software Company with a special interest in Linux, I should have started with something technical. Somehow, I wanted to write about Robert Frost. And when it came out, it was the chick and duckling :-)

Mirra Ginsburg - I didn't know the author's name before. Now that I am connected to Internet, and I have Google at hand, it gave me the answer to the simple query "chick and duckling".

For children, stories are stories. But for grown-ups, they are all new lessons for re-read. Being a duckling has the obvious advantage of not drowning. The same is the case with being a chick who thinks before it follows something.

I don't know where I read these lines.

Be a Swift, and stay on the wing,
For heaven's sake, don't sit and sing.
For then you can be sure of your fate,
Locked in a cage, or served on a plate!

But that's it!!