Home Bound

Stroll down the Kalpathy Lane

My childhood and teens had carried a certain dislike towards the Palakkad district in Kerala. It was one of those ‘Je ne sais qoi’ kind of dislikes or it could also be the cause and effect of a conditioned mind. I say so because it was formed without any concrete reason, just from tittle-tattle. Hailing from a Muslim dominated distrct in Kerala and being raised in the Gulf, I was more familiar with the Fajr and Azan prayers . Food for the soul was most undoubtedly Biriyani !! Inherited love towards porotta, pathiri and varutharacha kozhi curry was all part of having Malabar hardwired into my system.

So back to my detester towards Palakkad ! I have always felt that if ever you carry strong emotions, be it negative or positive, towards anything , Universe makes sure that you change your perspective on the same. It is nature’s way of telling you that it’s all in the mind. So here I was being married off to Palakkad. It made me think, ‘Of all the places, why Palakkad?’ . I found solace in the fact that my husband being in the Gulf, I wouldn’t have to spend much of my time at Palakkad. True to my apprehensions, initially, I wasn’t very impressed with the heat of Palakkad. But beyond the demographics, Kalpathy ( Tamil Brahmin street in Palakkad) had a charm I had not witnessed before. During the initial years, my conditioned mind had worked in my favour and I did not want to pay much heed to this small settlement. After my son was born, I was too busy in his world to be able to pay any attention to the world outside. All this while Kalpathy passed by me in silence. Patiently it carried on with its humble existence. 

My in laws stayed a street away from Kalpathy and I always had an affinity for that house and the lovely people in it. It was very different from my parents’ house as in one was socially alive where as the other had an aura of heavenly solitude. As my son grew bigger, I looked forward to my holiday stay at my in laws’. By then I had begun to observe Kalpathy and its modest survival. My inward journey prospered in the spiritual ambience. The Brahmin lifestyle I witnessed around had a certain divinity which was enriching in every sense. Though I am not for ritualism, the many number of poojas I attended as a good neighbour was truly a blissful experience. Ringing of the bells and chanting of the mantras had its own magical influence. An evening stroll down the Kalpathy lane was a treat to all my senses. Age old houses sharing common walls had old Brahmin couples resting on the ummarapadi ( the seating at the foyer)facing the artfully done kolam. This kolam would have reduced into a fine line of white dust by evening. Even then shining through it was the rich culture and tradition . Aroma of filter coffee and jasmine flowers filled the air. Life seemed simple and people seemed content. Extreme humility of Kalpathy is reflected in its scholars, musicians, scientists pouring in from different corners of the world to be a part of the famous Ratholsavam (Kalpathy Chariot festival) . The famous proverb ‘ Looks are deceptive’ was re affirmed when I saw the dhoti clad Brahmin scholars (sacred thread across the chest confirms the upper caste) walking up and down the streets of Kalpathy in the most unassuming manner. Streets and temples of Kalpathy narrated tales of more than 700 years.

After 13 years of my marriage my mother in law has decided to shift base to Malabar due to personal reasons. It is a matter of excitement for me as Malabar runs in my veins. But as I process the fact that I will no longer have those long stays at Kalapathy, I feel a heavy cloud hanging over my chest. 

What am i being snatched away from ?

· Is it the serenity of the house that also happens to be my husband’s debut architectural design?

· Is it the temple bells and the mantras ringing loud?

· Is it the soul filling aroma of filter coffee and jasmine flowers?

· Is it the visual treat of Kanjeevaram clad Brahmin women ?

· Is it the seemingly uncomplicated and technologically less driven community?

· Is it the heart warming fact that the rat race is few streets FAR away?

I know not!! I guess it’s a combination of it all.

By jotting down these sentiments I come of realization that I will miss the Varanasi of South for reasons more than one. May the soul of this place always rise above the competitive struggle of the modern world !!

 

Will you miss me when I’m gone ??

O My Crimson Sky
Your rays fill my eye
I look into thee
and Wonder with no glee
Will you miss waking me
when I’m gone ??


O My enveloping Breeze
Softening in your caress
entwined in your embrace
seeks my mind restless
Will you miss touching me
when I’m gone??


As clouds erupt
bathing me as it wept
soaked in consumption
brimming in me myriad emotions
my lovely drops,Will you miss cleansing me
when I ‘m gone ??


Books and pens all way long
Placing me where I belong
At my best companions I stare
Contemplating ,pensively I ponder
Will you miss journeying with me
when i’m gone??


Into those moist eyes
penetrates my hazy gaze
forgiveness I meekly ask
for a promise I break
Teary eyed, in silence I plead “Don’t miss me when I’m gone”


Eyes shut, I inhale deep
Memories loom large
My pathway it adorns
Stop by each, Smile by each
Stepping into eternity, I whimper
“I will miss you when I’m gone”

A Journey of Love and Peace..

                                         Lasheen - Never forgotten!!

To this beautiful human being/friend who came , touched many and left as a gentle breeze . To this wonder who re - affirmed my belief in connections beyond what meets the eye!

Art thou on the journey

thou embarked upon
One that spreads its wings
and flies over the horizon

Art thou on the journey
thou embarked upon
One that whistles its way
through the dark alley

Art thou on the journey
thou embarked upon
One that drives thou
to the inane thrills

Art thou on the journey
thou embarked upon
One that ripples through
layers of imagination

My friend, art thou still

on this journey

On a plane unbeknownst to us

Though the planet a little less bright
Though minds a little less agile
Though eyes a little less playful
Though the Cup Of Life a little less full

A deep layer from 

the abyss whispers
Thou art on an eternal journey
A journey of Love and Peace !

I do Nothing, they say !

Funny Faces
Mocking me?
Is it me
or is it them?
Sanity i know not
who defines

I do nothing
they say.

I do
i say.
I sing
but they no hear
I write
but read they not
I cook
But no morsel they taste
I clean
only to be dirty again
I sacrifice
they comprehend not
I happy
but they no feel.

I do nothing
they say.

When i go Home,
the Good Lord
will hold me close
whisper into my ear
'Your song i hear
You write so well
Food so fine i never did taste
I walk with you when in pain
Your happy waves touch my shore.
Results i no seek
Your intentions i see.
As pure as they are

dear to me you are.

I do nothing
they say
It matter not
I say.

Back to School Story

"Aiyyo..ee school onnu pettannu thurannu kittiyal mathi !!! "
(Transliterated to : Gosh ! I wish the school re- opened soon !)


I screeched repeatedly the last five months. You may ask "Why five months???" When all the parents, err...mothers undergo the same torture for only two months, why am I blessed with the extra three months?? Yea , my positive mind believes that I receive extra blessings, even in the form of months :/


Now, back to the horrendous question: Why five months??


We parents , especially mothers like to believe that we are super smart when it comes to decisions about our children!! (Okay! Fathers don't need to go HA HA HA !! It is a fact that we are smart) I am not sure if I will inherit any money from my mother but I have for sure already inherited this characteristic feature proudly from her, the super smart one! So when we moved my sons school, the school authorities advised to keep him in school until the start of summer holidays also warning us that keeping him at home for five months could prove very taxing (For who?? Wish they spoke with a little more clarity :'( ) Sorry, the super smart parents are not willing to give in. We said with vigour "Nothing doing ! We will not pay the school fees unnecessarily . He shall start the new academic year in September, which is five months later." They agreed.

Triumphant- We!!


After the five month duration I ask :

Do I look like my blood has been sucked out of my system??
Do I look like I have lost the battle of life ?
Is my hair violating Newtons law of gravity ??

This particular illness can only be termed as " Holiday Effects". Whose holiday ? is a very relevant question to be asked. Yes I would reply, MY SON'S HOLIDAYS as if shaken out of a haunting memory .
So,coming to think of it. Five months of keeping a 10 year old boy at home has been a super demanding task. Keeping him engaged, answering his questions every five minutes, attending to his 'BOOOOREEEEEDDD' shouts in the form of hot snacks! Also his ' WILL COLLAPSE IF NOT MET NOW' demands ranging as below:

FOOOD
TeeeeeVeeeeee
PS4
HuuuuuG (???)
KiiiiiiiiiiSS (?????)
I ran out of ideas, I ran out of enthusiasm, I ran out of patience, I ran out of all the philosophical and spiritual lines which held me together, I simply ran out of my sanity !!

Everyday I prayed to help me keep calm and send constant reminders to my brain cells that this child is 23 years younger than me .
So after the melodramatic five months, Shan today is back to school.
When he walked into the new campus waving me goodbye, there was a mild pull in my chest. No, you don't need to go 'Awww', yet !! It was the familiar one which precedes an upcoming excitement.I looked forward to the solitude awaiting me at home. I got back home and the first hour was absolute bliss. In the next hour I responded loudly to a call I thought I had heard, the same call that had kept bombarding my eardrums every five minutes in the last five months. It took me a few seconds to realise that I was actually responding to the imaginary "Ammaa" call. I felt a pang and it came from the deepest core of my being. One that only a mother or a person with a motherly instinct can empathise with. I looked at the peacefully quiet PS4,the countless game CDs , his clothes, his books. The house looked impeccably clean and enviably calm.
I missed Shan. In my silence and thoughts about him, I came of realisation that in my overwhelming desire to send him back to school, I had not wished my child good luck for his new academic life in his new school.


In guilt I shut my eyes . It took me only a second to slip into a prayer for all the children returning to school after their holidays. I asked for forgiveness on behalf of all the mothers who would have cursed and punished their children during the holidays out of frustration . I am sure all the mothers would agree with me that our children have taken birth from the very depths of our soul and no force can snatch away the unconditional love we will feel for them till eternity. I am also sure that they will see us beyond all the screaming , yelling and come of understanding some day that they were and will always be a part of our beating heart.


God bless all the beautiful children of the world and God ,please, bless us mothers a little more ( to act of our age !!)

Grey Reflections!!

They are floating away
They are also stubborn
Gently pushing is the fine breeze
only wanting to unveil the universal smile.
Refusing to listen are the intense ones
Naive ones, are always obedient
Growling and Grumbling , emotions burst
Wrapping me in a desirable blanket of passionate sorrow.
In its eruption i melt
Reducing into a fine nothing
as a paper constantly ripped in half.
Wiping out the darkness
appears the brightest star.
Happy as i am
but the longing so remain
In melancholy , i ask
the disappeared grey reflections,
Where art thou &
When shalt thou return , my friend .......