എന്റെ മലയാളമേ...

 കഴിഞ്ഞ വർഷം  തൊട്ട് മകന് സ്കൂളിൽ തമിഴ് പഠിക്കാൻ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നു. തമിഴ് നാട്ടിൽ വളരുന്ന പുത്രൻ തമിഴ് പഠിക്കുന്നത് എന്തുകൊണ്ടും  നല്ലതു തന്നെ. പ്രശ്നം - എനിക്ക് തമിഴ് അറിയില്ല എന്ന പരിമിതി ഉണ്ട്‌. ഭാഷ ഏതായാലും അറിഞ്ഞിരുന്നാൽ ഗുണം ചെയ്‌യും എന്നതുകൊണ്ട്, മകനോടൊപ്പം തമിഴ് അക്ഷരമാല പഠനം ആരംഭിച്ചു. 

അപ്പോഴാണ് മനസിൽ ഒരു സങ്കടം, എൻ്റെ കുഞ്ഞിനെ മലയാളം പഠിപ്പിക്കാൻ  കഴിയുന്നില്ലല്ലോ എന്ന്.

പറയാനും വായിക്കാനും   സാധിക്കും പക്ഷേ കൃത്യമായി  എഴുതാൻ അറിയില്ല എന്ന ഒരു വലിയ കുറവ് എനിക്കുണ്ട് .

മൂന്നാം ക്ലാസ് വരെ മാത്രമെ മലയാളം പഠിച്ചുള്ളൂ, അതൊരു നികത്താനാവത്ത കുറവായത്, പിന്നീടൊരിക്കലും പഠിക്കാൻ ശ്രമിക്കാഞ്ഞതാണ്‌ .

പാഠപുസ്തകത്തിലെ പാഠം ഒരു തവണ വായിച്ചിട്ടു കാണാതെ അക്ഷരമോ വാക്കോ തെറ്റാതെ അത് മുഴുവൻ മുത്തശ്ശനെ പറഞ്ഞു കേൾപ്പിക്കുമായിരുന്നു. മുത്തശ്ശന് അത് കേൾക്കാൻ വലിയ ഇഷ്ടമായിരുന്നു. ഇനിയും വായിക്കണം, അപ്പോൾ സ്വന്തമായി എഴുതാനും കഴിയും എന്നു പറയുമായിരുന്നു . 

ഐതീഹ്യമാലയുടെ ഒരു പുസ്തകം മുത്തശ്ശൻ അന്നു തന്നതിൽ ഇപ്പോഴും ഉണ്ട്, അമ്പലമുറ്റത്തു നിന്നും എടുത്ത രണ്ടു ആലിലകൾ . ഈ പുസ്തകം ആയിരിക്കും ഒരുപക്ഷെ ഒരു 20 തവണ എങ്കിലും തലങ്ങും വിലങ്ങും വായിച്ചിട്ടുണ്ടാകുക. എന്ത്‌ കാര്യം? മലയാളത്തിൽ എഴുതാൻ കഴിയാത്തതാണ്‌ പരാജയം.

സ്കൂളിൽ UKG കോൺവൊക്കേഷന് കുഞ്ഞുണ്ണി മാഷിന്റെ കയ്യിൽ നിന്നും പ്രൊമോഷൻ ലെറ്റർ വാങ്ങിയതും, "'അമ്മ നന്മ, നന്മ അമ്മ" എന്ന് ഉരുവിട്ട് പഠിപ്പിച്ചതും ഇന്നലെ കഴിഞ്ഞത് പോലെ ഓർമ്മയിൽ ഉണ്ട്‌. 10 വയസ്സില് അച്ഛൻ എനിക്ക് ബാലമണിയമ്മയുടെ കവിത സമാഹാരം സമ്മാനിച്ചതും, സ്കൂളിൽ മത്സരത്തിൽ അതിലെ ഒരു കവിത വേദിയിൽ പേടിച്ചു വിറച്ചു പറഞ്ഞതും ഓർമയുണ്ട് . അത്ര മാത്രെ ഉള്ളു മാതൃ ഭാഷയോടുള്ള സ്നേഹാദരവിന്റെ ഓർമപ്പൊട്ടുകൾ .

പിന്നീടങ്ങോട്ട്, ഇംഗ്ലീഷ്  അക്ഷരങ്ങളിൽ ഒളിപ്പിച്ച കൊച്ചു കൊച്ചു മലയാളം കവിതകൾ അമ്മ എനിക്കു മലയാളത്തിൽഎഴുതി തന്നു കുറച്ചു കാലം. ജോലി തിരക്കും ഉത്തരവാദിത്തങ്ങളും, അമ്മയുടെ സമയം കവർന്നപ്പോൾ, എൻ്റെ എഴുത്തും ഇല്ലാതെയായി . 

വർഷങ്ങൾ‌ക്കിപ്പുറം സ്വന്തം മകനെ മലയാളം പഠിപ്പിക്കാൻ‌ കഴിയുന്നില്ലല്ലോ എന്ന ആശങ്കയിൽ‌ എത്തി നിൽ‌കവേ ഒരു തീരുമാനത്തിൽ‌ എത്തി -  പഠിക്കാൻ! 

ഇന്നത്തോടെ പുനരാരംഭിച്ചു മലയാള പഠനം. മുത്തശ്ശൻ പറഞ്ഞത്പോലെ വായനയിലൂടെ, വായിച്ചവ എഴുതി പരിശീലിച്ചുകൊണ്ട് ... 

ഒപ്പം പുത്രനെയും കൂട്ടി. അവനെ കുഞ്ഞുണ്ണി മാഷിന്റെ കൊച്ചു കവിതകൾ കേൾപ്പിച്ചുകൊണ്ടാണ് ആരംഭം. 

ഈശ്വരാനുഗ്രഹം ഉണ്ടാകട്ടെ .

മാപ്പിന്റെ അടിസ്ഥാനം?

പ്രായത്തിൽ ചെറുതായതുകൊണ്ടു മാത്രം മാപ്പു പറയേണ്ടിവരിക. നമ്മളെ
പഠിപ്പിക്കുന്ന നല്ല സംസ്‌കത്തിലൊന്നു.
മുതിർന്നവർ എപ്പോഴും ശെരിയാണ്. കാരണം അവർ മുതിർന്നനവർ ആയതുകൊണ്ട്. അവരെ മാനിക്കുക.
അതിനാൽ നമ്മുടെ ഭാഗത്തു
തെറ്റില്ലെന്നാലും മാപ്പുപറയുക. മാപ്പു
പറയുമ്പോൾ നമ്മൾ ചെറുതാകുന്നില്ല,
വലുതാകുകയേയുള്ളു.

നല്ല സംസ്കാരത്തിൽ ഒന്ന്.
സത്യം പറയുന്നതിന് മാപ്പുപറയണം.  ശെരി പ്രവൃത്തിക്കുന്നതിനു മാപ്പുപറയണം. വികാര-വിചാരങ്ങങൾ വെളിപ്പെടുത്തുന്നതിനു മാപ്പു പറയണം. ഒരേയൊരു കാരണം, നമ്മൾ
 ജനിക്കാൻ അല്പംവൈകി.

 ഇതിലെവിടെയാണ് ഞ്യായം? 
മാപ്പു പറഞ്ഞാൽ ഒരുവൻ ചെറുതാകുന്നില്ല. ഇല്ല, ശെരിയായിരിക്കാം ( മാപ്പു പറയേണ്ടിവരുന്നതേ പ്രായത്തിൽ ചെറുതായതുകൊണ്ടാണെങ്കിൽ പിന്നെ വേറെ ഇനി ചെറുതാക്കാൻ ഇല്ലല്ലോ ). മാപ്പു പറയാൻ വല്യയ മനസുണ്ടാകണം.വീണ്ടും ശെരിയായിരിക്കാം. എങ്കിൽ പിന്നെ മാപ്പിന്റെ അർഥം മാറ്റേണ്ടിവരും.

തെറ്റു ചെയ്തു എന്ന ബോധ്യം ഉണ്ടെങ്കിൽ മനസ്സുകൊണ്ടും പ്രവർത്തികൊണ്ടും പറയേണ്ടട ഒന്നാണ് മാപ് അന്ന വാക്. അല്ലാതെ ഒരു അലങ്കാരത്തിനോ പ്രായവ്യത്യാസത്തിന്റെ പേരിലോ അടിച്ചേല്പിക്കപ്പെടേണ്ടതല്ല അത്.

മുതിർന്നവർ ചെയ്‌യവരോട്
 മാപ്പു പറഞ്ഞാൽ അത് അവർക്കു മുഷിച്ചിൽ ഉണ്ടാക്കുന്നു എങ്കിൽ അതിന്റെ അർഥം ആ മാപ്പ് അപേക്ഷ മനസ്സറിഞ്ഞുകൊണ്ടല്ല എന്നാണ്.
അങ്ങിനെ ഒരു മാപ്പ് കൊണ്ട് ആർക്കും പ്രയോജനമില്ല. 

തെറ്റു ആണ് ചെയതത് എന്ന് തോന്നുകിൽ,  താൻ കാരണം മറ്റൊരാൾക്കു ദുഃഖം ഉണ്ടായി എന്ന് ബോധ്യം ഉണ്ടെങ്കിൽ, മനസതൊട്ടു വരുന്ന ഒരു മാപ്പിന് പ്രായത്തിന്റെയോ പദവിയുടെയോ മറക്കുടയുടെ ആവിശ്യം ഇല്ല. ആ  മാപ്പിന് അതിന്റെ പൂർണ അർഥം ഉണ്ടാകും. പ്രയോജനവും. മറ്റൊരു മാപ്പു പറച്ചിലും യഥാതഥം അല്ല. അവയൊരിക്കലും
 അർത്ഥവത്താകുന്നുമില്ല.

ചെയ്യ്യാത്തത തെറ്റിനു മാപ്പു പറയേണ്ടിവരുമ്പോൾ
അവിടെ സിജിതകുന്നത് സത്തായവും ന്യായവും ആണ്.

സത്യം പറയുക, നന്മമ ചെയ്യ്യുക, മുതിർന്നവരെ ബഹുമാനിക്കുക, പ്രായത്തെ മാനിക്കുക, മാപ്പു പറയുക... അച്ഛഛൻ അമ്മമാർ പഠിപ്പിച്ചു തന്നന ചില നല്ലല സംസ്കാരത്തിന്റെ അംശങ്ങങൾ ഇവയൊക്കെ.

സത്യത്തിനുവേണ്ടി ശബ്ദം ഉയർത്തുക, നീതിക്കുവേണ്ടി പോരാടുക, ചെയ്തത്ശെരിയെങ്കിൽ, തലകുനിക്കേണ്ടതില്ലല, നമ്മമൾ മറ്റുള്ളവരുടെ ചവിട്ടുപടികൾ ആകേണ്ടതില്ലല... വൈകിവന്നന ജീവിതാനുഭവങ്ങളിൽ
 നിന്നും പഠിക്കാവുന്ന ചിലതു ഇവ.

When SC lifts 497

If the movie "Life in a Metro" was released now, the whole stro3y of KK -SHIPLA SHETTY wouldn't have worked.
So basicaly what happens in the movie is. KK is already in a relation with his office staff bcz he hates his family life.  And then Shilpa one day meets a guy who tells her that he loves her and tried to start an affair but at the last moment shilpa says she has a husband and that shes not "that type of a woman".  When KK comes home he confesses that he is having an affair and asks it she can forgive. Then she says she met a guy too (just met, nothing happened) but the angry KK couldn't stand it and storms out. Later in the climax he comes back home weeping like a 5 year old who lost his pencil box and is accepted back by the wife - the sanskari indian pathni.

But hey the law has changed bro!

So if it was today,
Kk wud come and be like, "hey listen, so i have been sleeping with another woman hope you don't mind, even if u do I wont get punished you see. And shipla is like, thats ok honey, its only morally wrong not a crime. After all i met someone too.
And he will be like "oh. Great. Wait what the fuck dude?"
Shipla goes on " its not a crime baby, just morally wrong and we are both doing it anyway. See we are match made in heaven!"
Kk will say, whatever... Ok so i gotta go back. Have a dinner date with my gf. Seeya tmrw.

Life in a metro, 2018.

Anyway, the 497 overruled. I have not got complete sense of the whole thing yet. Im trying to figure it out yet.

So 497 basically punishes the guy who commits adultry. Not the woman bcz hey, we are woman. If you speak now we will dump a load of feminism on you so shh!
 And so now they lift 497 so that there equality. Now neither man nor the woman is punishable. Yeiii!!!
So the guy or girl who was. cheated, what about them? Hey! Did your wife cheated then suck it up and goget a life, man... Wow! Equality.

But why vant they have equality by punishing both man and woman equally? Mind your words! The feminist are watching... You cant punish a woman. If you say one more word.... The truck is waiting outside bro! They will dump it all on your head!

I call a cheater a cheater. Not like i see some couple in the park and i know the girl has a husband and then i call out "ayii cheater..." No not that kind of it.

I mean law says if you cheat someone of your property or money or disguse as a chachi 420, you are a cheat and you will be punished.  Even for fancydress cimpetition i dont dress like chachi bcz u know... Section420.
But yeah, You can basically play your spouce emotions" life, family and everything but it's ok bcz you know its not a crime....
You can't punish someone if they are just morally wrong...

Adultry, you commit with the concent of your partner in crime. Thats ok. Bcz wife/husband at home is not a part of our private life, you see and we dont need their concent for this little affair tjsts going on here.  We commit adultry and go home and eat their chapathi bcz its now legal.

I had a discussion with my friends on this topic. I call it discussion, dont know what they call it. 
I probably pissed them all off. Thats ok bcz its not a crime... I was enjoying.
And finally tbey wanted to somehow wrap it up and the only way they could do that was to agree with me. Even if they didn't want to.
So one of them finally said, I think adultry is a crime and they should all be punished. They should all be given capital punishment so they will get scared and think twice before doing it. And it should ultimately end.

I was happy. Bcz if its capital punishment, Then we are atleast sure that if they get punished once, they won't do it twice.

The flood that opened our eyes

This is beyond my capacity to hold back.

My homeland - kerala was hit by an unexpected flood. The entire State (all the 14 districts) under red alert. People had to evacuate and there were limited options.

Some had to abandon their homes, some got stranded, and some even lost their lives. But surprisingly, there was a new kind of unity that was formed. Everyone held hand in hand and fought to get back on their feet.

They cordinated with each other to help those in need. Young and old, men and women were fighting the odds to save others lives. Malayalees both inside and outside kerala connected over the phone and internet and created a network for rescue operations. Apps were setup in no time to optimise the resources, raise alerts and direct aid to the people affected. They were literally on their toes - day and night. The State disaster management team was deployed at all possible points, men in uniforms were seen running over collapsing bridge, hanging from copters, swimming against the gushing water - all to save lives - with no fear of death.  The journalists of the State swung into action. Reported the reality in the real spirit. No rain could stop them, no landslide could scare them.

The fishermen community didn't wait for an invitation. They knew how to face the strong currents of the swelling rivers. Pulled out hundreds from the water to safety and returned form where they came. They prefered to be anonymous. No credits taken.

Even outside the State, the kind hearts came together to do whatever possible for their fellow people in kerala. There was help and support pouring in from all parts of the world (Bangalore, Hydrabad, Mumbai, punjab, Gulf... You name it) in cash and kind.

Personally witnessed NGOs, Students, and youngsters at Chennai travelling the length and breadth of the city to organize relief supplies. They were there collecting, arranging and re-arranging items to be sent to the many relief camps across kerala. Post shifts, they would stay back and pack the collections in seperate boxes and send them to their destinations.

Schools i know came forward and accepted the opportuniry to teach their students the value of kindness and empathy. People from all walks of life contributed their best for a good cause.

Thus a new lesson was learned. There is still hope for human race. All the goodness has not been lost.

You just need to be the spark to start a wildfire of kindness.

Kudos to the team effort! Kudos to all those who still safekeep the embers of empathy in their heart! Kudos to all those who refused any reason to stop them from doing the right thing at the right time.

You all turned into Gods for someone today. You can be proud for the rest of your lives.

Unisex toys for kids?!

Is there a thing as unisex toys?

Well, in the era of gender biased toothpastes, one shouldnt be surprised to find a gender specific (blue colour and pink colour) slate board (which serves the exact same purpose but are priced differently because pink plastic is more expensive than blue?) .

But do any of you really think it will ever matter to your 2 year old son/daughter?

I believe that kids that small are unaware of their gender identity yet. Unless we instill the gender difference and role or they are exposed to gender stereotyping.  The colour codes for their toys are very much a part of stereotyping. Till then they will play along and grow up to be an individual who sees others as 'people' .

I also believe that kids should grow up to learn and believe that they are all one and the same - human beings. Only then will they learn to accept and respect people for what they are.

the power is within

In purana, theres a story about Hanuman being cursed by a sage that he forgets all his powers. When needed someone will have to remind him all of it.

In life, we are like Hanuman at times. Amidst all the daily tensions and problems we sometimes forget what we are capable of.

Luckly, someone or the other will show up in one or the other way and shed some light on our forgotten past or dig-out the lost talents in us.

Like the day an old friend from school reminded me how I and another friend competed to fill every alternate pages of our class magazines with poems and creative write-ups. He convinced me that if I could do that at 16, i can do much more at 25. That was a timely reminder. A boost. Also, enlightenment. I couldn't thank him enough for that brief conversation which resulted in me finding my will to start writing after a long gap.

Then there  was this instance when I was stuck up at home completely bored of the white walls of my house staring back at me all through the day. My friends suggested I dust my paint box and brush and paint - throw some colour around me. Yup, that changed the way the walls looked. More importantly, I found myself busy trying out new ideas. It made me happy.

Then there was a time an old colleague (a good friend) suggested I freelance content writing for him. That too was a turning point.

Another friend of mine reminded me that its never too late to go back to student-hood. I now know that it might be tough, but not impossible.

Recently, one of my professor indirectly reassured me that the heart knows to heal itself. We just have to listen to it carefully.

Today, when I realized that these have not only helped me swim through the violent storms of emotions and find new islands of creativity, but also saved someone else too from the troubled waters, it gives me unbound joy.

I hope it set out a chain reaction and bring peace to many people.

To the angel who touched my heart

Sharing a special experience.
My son celebrated his first birthday this month. That's like the first anniversary of my labour room experience. Wow!
The labour room, honestly, wasn't completely a pleasant experience. My hopes of finding comfort holding my husband's hands was put off as immediately as I was told that it would charge us extra. That plus the obviously un-hidable fear on my hubby darling's face sealed it and the topic was beyond discussion.
It was a twin-bed room with just me as the patient for the majority of the time. I was surrounded by a few nursing staff and the duty doctor who told me it was going to be a memorable day (whatever she meant). A few sensors were placed on my oversized belly to monitor my baby's movement, heart rate and contractions, I had no idea till then that the pain a human body endured could be measured using an electronic equipment (loud applauses for the advancement in science). It was a mixed emotion situation. Anxiety, fear, joy, pain, excitement and everything together.
 Later that day, another patient occupied the next bed. Unfortunately, she was there for a completely different reason. Five months into her pregnancy, her baby gave up and she was advised to terminate the lifeless foetus.
I was squirming and screaming in unbearable pain but I was well aware of everything happening around me.
Just 4cm dilated and 40% into the dilevery, my duty doctor was called out on an emergency. (It was a personal emergency as her only child was hospitalised for some reason - that's all I know of it). Along with her the whole medical team marched out of the room, leaving just the two (patients) of us there.
That was when the loneliness triggered more fear and my pain doubled. With nothing to hold on to,  the blanket that covered me bore the effects of my sharp nails. It was then the lady on the other bed walked up to me, held my hand in hers. She was bleeding, her face was pale and lacked emotion yet the words she uttered were sharp and full of depth. She let me squeeze her hand and gently pat my other hand and said , " it's going to be alright, your baby is gonna come out alive.  You can do this" .
For a few seconds, I lost my breathe as her words sunk in.
Just that moment, it was the co-existence of hope and sorrow - joy and pain - life and death.
She returned to her bed just as the nurses re-entered the room and attended to their designated patients.
Minutes went like hours and hours crawled within the frame of the clock. At around 4.30 in the evening a babys cry echoed in the room.
Just as my tired face lit up like the Sun, my son was placed on my chest. On the other side of the room, a mother mourned her loss silently.
To that lady with whom I shared the most vital moments of my life, that woman who held my hand when I needed a support the most, that mother who prayed for my child's good health, the angel who touched my heart in the most special way, thank you. I don't know your name, I don't know your story but I hope you are blessed with a healthy, happy baby and joy filled life.

The first time and the last time

Everything has a first time and if it's about your baby, it's always special. Like the first time you felt him against your chest. The first time you ran a finger around his ear to wake him up and so that he continue feeding, the first time his eyes met yours and he smiled innocently. The first time your baby cried in his sleep and immediately felt cozy when you held him close. The first time he managed to flip to his side, the first time he lift himself to his two little feet, the first time his looked at you and uttered "Amma". The list goes on. I have cherished all these beautiful moments myself. But lately, something struck me which gave me as much pain as it made me happy.
One day, there will also be a last time. Like the time he struggled to swim across the floor, or like how he had to be held in your arms as he slept. He has learned a lot in 10 months. He now knows to pull himself up on his two feet, he can walk on all four and go get what he wants. He know to play on his own with his toys, he knows a lot more words than "Amma" and he is still growing, learning and leaving behind a lot .
There will come a time when he will stop feeding, a day when he will just stop cuddling to me. As the days pass by and as I rejoice in every new thing he learns, that one day is only coming nearer. The day when he will no longer need my help to eat or play or sleep. That day when my son decides to be independant. That day when he finally proclaim that he has grown up. That day when he only wants me to spectate his improvements. When that day comes, I will miss a lot of things. Like holding him on my shoulders and singing a lullaby, like telling him instant stories to put a spoon or two of food into his system, like showing him around and observing his amusement. I will miss more than that. I will miss me.
Am I ready? Not yet.
Before the moment passes, let me have that one warm hug, a cute smile and most sweetest word uttered out. Let me just liedown besides you and watch as you smile in your sleep. Let me just dissolve into the innocence your pour out. Let me just cherish this moment with you. Let me hold you a little more before you are not little anymore.
Am I ready? I think I'll need a moment more.

Wondering about wandering in the space.

Watching the movie GRAVITY for the fifth time. I couldn't resist but pen down the lingering thought I always had since the second watch. Usually when I strike a conversation  about the movie, most people expressed their thoughts and feelings if they were in the suit of the protagonist. Almost all the delima of 50-50 chances of life and death, what would they have done? Would they fight for survival or give up and wait for the ultimate fate?

I don't know how many other would have thought about being in the shoes of the character played by GEORGE CLOONEY. I for one, found myself lost in such  thoughts many a times. Knowingly letting go of the slightest opportunity of survival to ensure at least one life is saved and embracing fate with a willing heart...

What if we were to leave the grip of hope and let go of last chance? Once the final radiowave leaves the frequency and no more voices reach each other, probably we would watch the other human strangled in confusion and fear and yet struggle to swim to the shore of life. we might wish them good luck with all our heart and wait for the moment to sink in. Then when the reality of the inevitable death strikes, will we panic? Will we cry?

On one side we have the earth we call home - to where innumerable memories can relate to, the comfort zone and in the other direction lies the shimmering darkness of eternity - its mystery waiting to unfold one by one. Will the nostalgia work up our emotions and we cast our eyes on earth the whole time or will the fascination about space call us towards its limitlessness? Which side would we choose to spend the final moments of our lives?

Probably, I will spend quiet moments with my sweet memories of my near and dear and keep talking - hoping someone to listen and record so that my folks will one day come to know the last words I had reserved for them. Probably there are chances that I force myself to float in deep thought about what lies beyond the void (almost void). Assuming a superpower to either show me the path or take me to a different world altogether. I might joke to myself about meeting an alien or two or discover another earth. Or maybe heaven.

Or will I convince myself, as I watch the oxygen level dropping while I drift away into my last moment, to lift up the mask and try to breath in the freedom of eternity?

What will you do if your were to be alone in space with no hope for a second chance? Let me know in the comments below.

No more lame comments on pregnancy and delivery, please

Felt heartbroken when I came across a lame comment about women giving birth.

You think it's  natural so it comes easy for a woman, right? Just like eating an apple, is that so?

Yea, let's just try to understand the scenario with your example. Take the apple - yes, the very same apple that u mentioned, and now try to sniff it up your nose. Oh, it shouldn't be tough for you , it's just an inch above your lips, must be pretty much as simple!

Dear fellow human, I'm sorry to tell you, it wasn't easy for your mother to bring you into this world. She had gone through her share of pain and physical difficulties. Your sister (if you have any), your wife (that is if someone marry you) and your daughter will all go through this natural phenomena one day (if not yet) but that doesn't mean it's a cake walk. It's natural for a woman to give birth because, only a woman can handle it. The human raise would have extinct with a generation or two if men like you had to go through pregnancy.
To explain to you what it is like, allow me to help you imagine what all the final day process involves...

An example already sited above, a woman has to push out a baby (whose head circumference  vary from 25-40cm on an average, let's say) is pretty much like you trying to sniff an apple (if not a papaya) up your nose. (You should try it yourself, let's see how simple that is).

Another step in a normal delivery is called episcotomy. A doctor uses a sharp surgical blade to cut open a side of the 'exit hole' to make room for baby's head. It probably is too painful for you to even  imagine cuting your nose tip to accommodate the apple so don't bother imagining a blade slightly slitting your private part. Ouch!

And then that same wound is stitched up while you are completely conscious. Good luck trying not to faint at the thought of a needle pearcing 'your tip'. Remember, this stitches will take from 1 to 3 weeks to heal so don't imagine sitting, stand or walking for that long like you normally do.

If luck leaves for side, you doctor would suggest s/he cut open you stomach (thankfully, you will be given anaesthesia in this case). Well, then the effect of the painkillers will eventually wear off and you will be left with excruciating pain on your abdoman till the stitches finally dissolve.

That's just one part of the whole process. The trauma and trouble post delivery is another story altogether.

Most importantly, please understand that you came to this world not because your mother thought of you as an apple. You might be an apple of her eye, but definitely not a store bought one that she whole heartedly washes and slices for you to eat.

So before you comment so shamelessly, unapologetically about a woman's dedication, willingness and choice to bring a new life into this world, remember not to bring shame to your mother at least.

#Chennai flood

Its been over four days since I have been worrying about my husband's safety. We are expecting our first baby in another 45 days and there's no room for peace in my mind since 2 days as I have lost contact with him except for occasional SMS stating that he, our friends & family hez staying with are safe.
Of all the worries, what kept me positive was dedicated people volunteering to help those stranded in hip high water (probably more). Thanks to Facebook and Whatsapp for constant support and timely updates which has helped save a lot of lives.
Whats happening in Chennai today could happen to your city tomorrow.
A lesson to learn from this (other than the power of unity, of course) is that all your materialistic achievements, wealth and all that you thought was safe inside your house, your locker will perish, no matter where you are or who you are. Your EGO will one day melt away and life will teach you its biggest lesson the hardest way. You may either prepare for it or shed your selfishness; do that little bit to extend a helping hand to the needy. Its will at least give you peace of mind and possibly you will find joy in it too. Good luck.

Patriots

What all publicity stunts to celebrating independence day!!

It’s 11.15PM, 09 August 2014. Sitting by my dining table sipping a cup of hot cardamom green tea, I received the fourth invite/message to change my profile pic to that of the Indian flag. 

On one side there is Gaza stories and posts filing up the social networking sites – pleading for the life and safety of many innocent children. On the other hand here is this rising need for my friends to show the world their pride by flooding their Facebook wall with pictures of the national flag. (I am quite unsure if promoting any these updates will actually have an impact on the current world issues. Pardon my ignorance).

Ironically, I happened to read an article in one of the online edition of a national newspaper about foreigners cleaning up one of the “most attractive” beaches in our country (name not revealed in order to protect the image of that particular State). The picture showed a few tourists picking up plastic wastes from the beach. The title read (if translated into English) “it’s in their blood to keep their surrounding clean” – mocking at our dear patriots’ love for their country, if I may say so. Had each of us tried to keep our nation litter-free, this news would not have appeared in the papers today.

I do not believe any other country is better than ours, be it in cleanliness or development, because we have the potential – we have the resources and the man power. The only thing we lack is enthusiasm.

Why not start by taking an oath to genuinely love our mother land and protect its natural beauty and historical treasures? That way we won’t just help ourselves or the country at large, but leave a better environment for the generations to come.

Coming back to where I began, no offence to those who chose to change the profile pic; you have your rights to love your country and express it every possible way, but next time if you could try to make it a little humane and nature friendly...

Good night, sweet dreams.

Tradition to Fashion

I was lucky to spend a day with some of the renowned dancers in the city today. Big thanks to Yasoda aunty (Kalashetra dancer) for treating me like her daughter, and of course, for the kindness she bestows upon me every time we meet. 

The day started with morning practice @ 7. I watched the dancers groove to the beat and the song their guru sang. The other half of the day, I was indulged in a marathon of attending various dance programs held in various parts of the city. I was lucky to meet one of the great Kalashetra dancers, fondly called Katherine aunty (a US citizen).  (http://www.tribuneindia.com/2006/20060909/saturday/stamped.htm ) A day’s stay with her made me wish if I had enough time to ask her more about her 40+ years of career in Indian dance.  

Hats-off to all those wonderful performers (as well as their gurus) for their efforts and dedication.  I really felt envious and lamented my big loss of not continuing my shikshanam.

But what prompted me to write down my thoughts today is not the graceful performance, but the fact that they were semi-Indian performers from the US who managed to put up those eye-widening, jaw-dropping shows for the Indian audience.  (I met dance students from Japan and other parts of the world too).

The time has come in Indian culture that very little of it remains with the youth today for I have seen children speaking the most opulent English and some others who struggle to get their ‘er’ and ‘oa’ strike the right tone. All thanks to the British invaders who gave us the sweet seductive taste of the western civilization. Ask a youngster what civilization is - s/he might go on for hours about  how man is different from other animals, education, the growth of science, interaction with the outside world, keeping up with the hottest trends, and probably Facebooking! If his/her history classes have a strong base, probably a para or two about the Indus valley civilization can be expected. I sincerely doubt if they would have the slightest notion that they belong to a country of great tradition – where one of the first and the most talked about civilization budded and bloomed.

I mean; today, when we and our fellow people find joy in the jazz and bass of western music and dance,   I witnessed a lot of international students who, with all their hearts, have embraced the un-diluted version of the South India soul – the art of south Indian dance. When people from far-far-away have realized the wealth and value of our tradition, I wonder how many of us sincerely are interested in the depths of our art and culture.

If this is to continue… that is to say; if we keep mugging up what sizzles in the west while they sponge-up our true ethnicity, it would one day come in a full circle. That way, if we keep following the western style for long, I am glad we might finally land up with our very own traditions (only to be re-learned from some foreigners). Then, maybe, you would hear youngsters singing praises of our culture. Tradition, then, would have become the fashion!

Happy New Year!!!

5... 4... 3.... 2... 1....... 0!!!!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!

The loud cheers and the exploding crackers could be heard at midnight from the not so far away church. Well this year, I had no celebrations. Back from a tiring trip, my family was too exhausted to celebrate New Year the usual style. All were off to bed early.

On the 'new' year morning, we all got up and things went as usual. The others left to office early and I was left do nothing much for the rest of the day, so, after my breakfast and little household works I went online to check my mails. And I decided to publish a buzz wishing every1 a very happy new year. I had noticed something funny this morning and that was the date. It read 1.1.11. I posted that too on the buss. After sometime I returned to my usual hobby and forgot all about the special day.

In the evening, everyone was back from office and the rest of the day was also spent normally. We had our evening tea, a little chat, mom told about her busy schedule for the rest of the week, dad also mentioned he was busy for some days and I decided to spend one more Sunday with my family before returning to college though I am already late. We watched TV for some time and then had our dinner.

At night, once again I decided to check my mails just to see if I have got any reply to any of the mails I sent in the morning. Nothing special was there. I switched off the computer and went to my table to enter my notes in my personal diary. Once again the date came to my notice. It was the first of January 2011. The first day of the new year. And it went just like that, .like just any other day... like yesterday.... so what was actually special about the day? The sun rose in the east... and the night fell after the dusk... Everything was just the same. Nothing was different except for the date.

So what does a new year actually mean? Is it just about the change of the date? A hype by the world consumer market to boost up their year end sales and revenue? What exactly is the reason for the celebration? Until last year, we used to celebrate it in our own little way. We used to go out for dinner on 31^st. And return home only after midnight. There was fun in it. The joy of being together, the pleasure of doing things together, counting stars in the night sky together, laughing together and traveling at midnight together. This year we were together and we did do things together and had lots of fun like any other day. Only that we did not realize it was a new calendar year as such. Then I realized, it’s not about the date or about a new year, the celebration is about being together and being happy. And for me every day is a new year then.

Posting this as my first article of the fresh year, I take this opportunity not just to wish all my dear ones a beautiful year ahead but also to thank each and every one of them for making every single day of my life a happy one.