Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Her wedding :) :)

             Do you want to hear a story?? A story with no blood sheds; full of vibe and color; a happy ending, then this is it, it’s your day. This story is about me and my better half. A vivid account of our marriage, for those who missed the fun and love. Sit back and enjoy it.

 The chapel stood tall in a majestic tone among st the tall canopies of trees. It housed the European architecture with arched doorways and windows that rose from the floors. The large stone piers with flying buttresses enabled large spaces despite the huge pillars that were erected to support this mighty structure. Everything about this place looks so good today. I have been passing through this Chapel every day, but not once I felt like this.

 The blue waters, the dusky brown ducklings and the lone bench that was full of birds’ droppings were all a part of my festive mood. People with happy faces dotted the Chapel, making animated conversations to showcase joy. Perhaps, I had a bigger reason to celebrate this day. Finally, it was time for us to take our relationship to next level. After a series of clamor from our folks, I whispered in her ears,

“Will you marry me, Renu???”

            Wonderful moments etched in my memory lane, I walk towards the mud cloaked Chapel. People were gathered outside, waiting for my arrival. The tinge of green along with the weeds looked poised to join our wedding function. The gravel beneath my toes gave way to our era. Like I said, everything is so good today. Nothing can be more blissful than Renu. I could see her dressed up in an elegant line one shoulder lace up white gown and holding a bouquet of white roses
            “That would be the most beautiful thing in my life”

            I still remember the single tear that stood in her left eye, when she said that. She is the type of a girl, who can steal every minute of yours. At times, I wonder if she could be a portrait with her sculpted looks. Not often, you find someone designed with such artistic beauty. With her gloved hands on top of mine, we enter the chapel, to be welcomed by the rose petals. Two little girls clad in rosy pink frock marched in front of us.

            We stood close to each other, with our shoulders brushing and occasional tiny glances to catch each one’s smile. Her elbows safely tugged in mine, we looked at the priest awaiting for the wedding vows. The priest looked small in his brown cassock and smiled at us with shyness. In a swift motion, he opened his leather book to recite the verses for us.

           (We have come together in the presence of God and these witnesses to see this lovely couple, Renu and Re…….)

            When my name was read out, I felt as if this was a fairy tale. I don’t want someone to pull my covers and say this was a dream. This isn't a dream and I can feel her sweet smell. I don’t believe in miracles but sometimes when things happen, your intellectuals are being put to test. Often, I tend to have a feeling of two different souls within me. One who accepts everything and anything, while the other wants to rebel for every damn shit.

            (….loving marriage. If these solemn vows which you are about to make are kept faithfully, your marriage will surely prosper ……)  

Being a tough nut, I don’t show emotions, but still it was one such day, when my other side was exposed. Alone in my room, clung to my lone pillow, waiting for the tears to burst out, but found the first miracle in my life. It was Renu’s comforting hand around my waist and a whisper close to my ears.

“Cry on my shoulders, and I’ll keep it safe for no one to see”

I knew it was the moment, we’ve been waiting for, the trust and faith in each other. While I was sobbing, her hug cozied me to discover each other’s secrets. It took me a while to regain my senses and bring my mind back to the priest’s words.

            (Please place your ring on Regina’s third finger of her left hand and repeat these words:

I (Renu) give to Regina, this ring as a symbol commitment to love, honor, and respect you with all that I’m always.

Having heard the vows you have made to each other, and by the power vested in me by the Parish; I solemnly endorse the wonderful women, Renu and Regina as couples.)

            She gave the final endorsement to our marriage by her sweet kiss, ‘love you, Regina!!!’

Author's note:

         After this blog, I'm pretty much sure that I'm going to get weird glances or faces from my friends (especially guys). I never had a deliberation to write on LGBT (precisely, gay marriage) but, so much went on my mind, to approach a guy or girl who wasn't straight in their sexual behavior. Surprisingly, I found the girl to be more of an extrovert and ready to discuss about this. The whole narration happened over a cup of coffee, in fact, I even felt, she should be the one writing this. After her consent, I decided to capture her emotions and her portrayal. 

             Perhaps, that's why you might find most things girly in this. Eventually, I realized they had a different world and never cared being a gay (of course, gay has another meaning being happy)

Tuesday, November 5, 2013


 “Appa!! Superman is wonderful!!! He can fly across oceans!!!”

“Hmmm.. what else can he do??”asked my dad.

“He is big and strong. He thrashes the enemies and tears them apart… boom! Boom! Bang! Bang!”

“Hahaha..” he smiles and folds the newspaper in crisp folds. 

“You know something, appa!!! He is very brave and can save people from danger. I wonder how he could do that. He flies across the sky without wings.. and.. “ began my animated conversation, with my fists pumping and small eyes bulging in my sockets.

My dad was listening to me calmly as if hearing this story for the first time, but we both knew that we have been doing this every evening after my school.  Every time I said this story, he travelled with me with unabated enthusiasm.

“Appa! Just imaging flying like Superman!!! We can move like birds singing through the canopies!!! How fascinating would that be???”

He was staring at me, but he was in a pensive mood. I saw that in his face with his tightly pressed lips. “Well! Do you want to fly?” smiled my dad.

“ Are you serious, appa???  Can you do that???”

            The next moment I was sitting on my dad’s lap holding the bars of his Kinetic Honda. The bars of the rear view mirrors pointing in both directions felt strong in my little palms. I felt like soldier holding the turret in a canyon. The small vehicle struggled initially but soon gave its thunderous sigh and coughed up smoke from its grease stained exhaust. He adjusted his traditional ‘veshti’ and looked at me,”Polamma???” (Shall we go???)

My palms were sweaty and excitement ran in every cell of mine. My eye lashes came down signaling my dad, I was all set to experience this new ride.

            The throttle in my dad’s arms pushed the vehicle forward, to herald a new experience in my life. The road was dotted with few vehicles and our Honda moved steadily gaining speed. The wind grew heavier on my face while I tried to look at the odometer. The red needle moved slowly across the 50km mark and my fingers went numb.

            When I looked above, the trees were moving at breakneck speed in opposite direction. The birds tried their best to stay in race with us. Their wings fluttered to keep themselves floating in air. The chill air carried the scent of bougainvilleas to hallucinate my brain. For the first time in my life I was experiencing this thrill. With my eyelids coming down at frequent intervals, the tears travelled in a zigzag pathway down my cheeks.

            Is this how it feels when you fly?? Oh my God!! It was exhilarating, sending a fusillade of emotions in me. The swelling night and the phenomenal ride finally came to a halt, with our Honda stopping at our door step.

“How was it???” asked my dad.

Perhaps the reminiscence of the ride was still in me, making me immune to the reality. The word ‘goose bumps’ got redefined after this, sending arrows and slings of joy in me. I didn’t know how to respond to him, so my arms went to hug him. I buried my head in his belly with my cheek enjoying the warmth.

He brushed my hair in his palms and looked at me, “You were close to flying, isn’t it? The only thing missing was the Superman suit”.

            The world was never big when I was on your shoulders. Superheroes can be a beautiful myth often epitomizing fantasy and zeal. Sometimes realities are draped in this myth and we keep searching for it. Ironically we never appreciate the hero who showed us the world. Heroes are neither born nor created from an alien planet; they never preach, but they live like a hero and make us watch them.

            You don’t need a superman suit to pull out gimmicks and stunts, all you need is special gift called ‘Dad’. He will dare to do bend the skies for a tiny smile on our face. I looked at him with my arms around his legs; all I saw was a humble human being with a mighty heart.

“Shall we fly again, appa ??" 

              Once again I started my flight journey with my Superman :) :) 

Monday, August 19, 2013

Rites of Passage

            This is neither a story nor a poem, but stands somewhere between them. In tamil literature, there's something called as 'sledai', which is in a poetic form. The beautiful aspect of that is, the poem has two meanings (direct and indirect). This work of mine is based on such a style. Each part will hold a unique theme, but still when you assimilate them together, they will form a universal theme. The themes are portrayed mainly in the form of comparison (with nature or fantasy world), with subtle layers embedded to it. I have tried to use simple words to weave this fabric.  

          The world was so dark with feeble noises creaking around him. It smelled so divine, with no one daring to seize his kingdom. There seemed to be some mystical force forming a bond between him and his secluded world. His survival depended heavily on the ever flowing rivers, that tasted like sugary syrup. His world wasn't designed, but it was visionary. Ironically his eyes were closed and failed to acknowledge the nuances of his surroundings. There was a sudden thrust of fear engulfing him, when he thought about the fading time. He shifted himself and realized something was happening around him. He knew he can't stay here longer, at any moment his world would crumble, leaving him no option. Soon the walls of his world caved in, started to squeeze as if, they were trying to muster all strength onto him. The loss of his world and the fear of a new beginning brought a shear pain in him. The pain brought the first tear in his eyes, followed by a cry of shrill sound. The sound wasn't a shrill, but echoed 'Amma !!' in Her eagerly waiting ears. 'Birth'

          The trail of the winter was left in the footpath by its fragile brown leaves. They crumbled at the sudden weight of his foot. He loved to watch them wither, which gave him a feel of self righteousness. His sanctimonious smile soon became volatile when he felt someone stalking him. He knew it was her and she had been threatening him for a while. She was dressed in a black robe moving around with elegance and a mischievous look. Sensing panic, he took rapid strides to negate her, but she sent flowers through wind as a sign of proposal. The cool breeze was in a whirl, hugging him and dotting him with her scent. Her scent brought hallucinations in him, luring into a honey trap before the brain sent him a voluntary signal to his legs. Strides were soon replaced by a jog and his mind raced for a vantage point. Despite his valiant efforts, she was winning and saw him buckling. Sensing the defeat, he finally gave a sigh for her to join him. She came down merrily to strip his sins and showcase heavenly pleasures in her kiss. When she made love with him leaving her trail of wetness, he stood soaked enjoying the first shower of rain in his life. 'Rain'

          Was the wind trying to shove him aside or was he trying to negate its ghastly blow? With the gust of dust puffing up, his legs gained momentum to push himself towards the finish line. His eyes couldn't find the line, because his mind was in the realm of winning the race. The unending praise and fresh smell of money transformed into a cascade shading his vision and goal. Lost in the turbulence, his legs tripped and made a landing on the gravel. The sight of his fellow competitors marching towards him ached more than the bruises. Behind him, the competitors were bridging the gap between him and them. Greediness was like a mask covering his face but, there was a rush of pride, stopping him to wither his guise. He expected a mystical force to beckon him, but all he heard was his dad's voice in his mind, "Winning is more about how you raise after each fall". All his muscles now found a reason to ache more and take the ruthless pounding. The finish line slowly appeared in his vision. He rose against gravity and kicked forward towards his dream, leaving behind his competitors and failures.'Victory'     

          The blue ocean was sprawled across him, with the mighty sun losing its fieriness after a long day. He was gazing at the numerous sea gulls, while his mind wandered about the coveted gift. A gift, which no one really dared to dream of, or had the cognizance to think. He was like a king, with ever flowing money and abundant health to masquerade all his grief. The world felt small for him, with very less to seize. He wondered, what could be his greatest possession? Could be the vast empire which he reigned or the sizzling sea breeze that welcomed him every evening? With gazillion thoughts fighting for a spot in his mind, he saw a beautiful woman, more like an angel moving towards him. When she came close, he found that she was white and formless, like a vapor. With a heavenly smile, she transformed herself into a million butterflies.The butterflies flew towards him, occupying one half of his body. He saw his own reflection on the water and felt like a butterfly man. With the dream still lingering on, he woke up, he knew his greatest possession, it was not the butterflies. He saw his wife lying next to him and smiling. 'Better half'

            The lady was searching for the right words to narrate a story to her son. A story which could depict victories; appreciate the fear of failure. A narration to enunciate glory and masquerade gore in life. The narration began in a blissful and boisterous tone. It was so enthralling, that the small kid visualized himself to be a part of the story. He laughed, at the characters' naive behavior; he was awestruck, by their achievements and shed tears when they were battered for free will. The story witnessed the evil side; portrayed goodness; instilled belief and hope. Every time she said this story, she felt like the light before dawn. She was able to inculcate the same in her son. Despite, hearing the same story umpteen number of times, he fell in love with the story. It was like the blue sky, every time you see it, there's something unique in it. Finally, a new thought sprang in the kid's mind, "One day, I'll be a hero like him and do wonders". A smile spread in her face, it was basked in pride and joy. She knew she has chosen the right words and the apt story for him. "You will! It's no wonder; you are the son of a hero"- 'Hero'

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Vasanth & Meera- Memoirs II

                                                                 The Last Mail

            While, Vasanth was crusing at a speed of  850km/hr in airbus A330, somewhere below 35,000 ft, birds were chirping to welcome dawn and a new day. Despite early hours of dawn, few men and women were excited and moved with alacrity in the massive hall. The stage in the hall, proved to be the centre of attraction of everyone. It's no wonder the wedding stage received such praises, white lilies and roses stole the show. The velvet board behind the stage had white letters embedded on it,

                                                           "Ajay weds Meera"
         A young lady clad in a beautiful saree took rapid strides moving past corridors to knock on the door. Meera opened the door, leaving it half open to welcome the lady.

"Didn't you shower?? The beautican will be here anytime, so get your shower done. Aunty asked for the wardrobe keys?"

Meera gave the keys, after fiddling in her purse for a while. "Get the mugurtha sari for me, Archana"

"Aunty has asked the keys to get you the sari and jewels. Today is a big day in your life, isn't Meera??? I still remember my marriage day, which was an year back. It gives me goosebumps even now"

"You are right, Archu!! I can't believe that I'm here, after all the turmoil I've been through in the last few weeks."

"grrrhhh!! Keep those thoughts out of your mind and look for a new beginning" said Archana, giving a pat on Meera's cheek and left her with loneliness.

       The laptop screen was lying in the bed, along with the undone fleece and pillows. Meera came from her shower, with water dripping from her hair. She sat down on the bed and was staring the screen. While there's was a whirlpool in her mind, which was clearly seen from her nervous fingers. After a dilemma, she logged on to her gmail account and typed 'V' in her address book. The sight of Vasanth's email address made her cry with tears rolling down her cheeks.


Dear Vasanth

           When you are reading this, most things in my life would have changed, just like my surname. I'm not sure if I had done the right thing, but I know there's no turning back. If there was a beautiful period in my life, then it would be the moments I had spent with you. In fact, I lived those moments by smiles and silent cries. You were the one, who painted rainbows and gifted butterflies in my life. Every time when sorrow or grief was engulfing me, you were there to give me a warm hug and whisper in my ears "Don't worry sweetie, I'm here for you"

           My palms are longing to hold your cheek and blissful smile. Eternity was never far away, when you carved a beautiful kiss on the tip of my nose. I'm searching for your words and warmth of your chest in the air. I wasn't given a chance, but only a choice to choose between two journeys. I was torn between the love for you and my parents. For all that you have given me, I returned you with hatred and pain. You rode into hell, leaving heaven for me to explore and cherish. 

               My heaven has no glory without you and your heart beat. Once I walk out of the door, there's new world waiting for me. A world which is ready to maul and trounce me, for the silly acts, which I'm about to perform. Even though they were silly, you termed them as divine. Nothing can abate my love for you; this was our first step in a beautiful relationship, that had a brief hiatus. We are meant to do this forever, getting lost in each other's arms and waiting for the time to tickle on. 

                 No matter what happens, I'll come for you in another life and plead for all my sins. I miss you,Vasanth.


               The cursor stood next to the send tab, waiting for Meera to push on it. Her mind was racing through the plethora of events that had happened in the last two weeks and how she was pushed to this marriage. She wanted to take her mind off from this, but she couldn't do that. Finally, she decided it was time to move on and clicked the delete tab. There was a knock on her door,

                    It was Meera's mom, with the muhurtha sari in her hand and a heavy make up to cover up the wrinkles on her face. "Meera !!! Oh!!! you look so pretty ! Ajay is going to be blown off by you. Here's the sari, I'll help you to wear it!"

"Amma ! I can do it by myself"

"I know how you would make a mess out of it, do you remember Shasidaran's daughter marriage? Oh my God!! Most of the function, I was worried, if your sari might fall off!!"

                 Meera wanted some solace, but her mom was stubborn in trying to help her to wear the sari. With her mind wavering, the kanchipuram sari draped her. Finally, when she was done with her make up and costumes, she hugged her mom.

"I know what's in your mind, kanna!! you have done the right thing, Meera!

"I guess so, amma!!"

                   The room was filled with blanketing silence and tears from Meera's eyes rolled on to her mom's neck. She carefully wiped off the tears using a tissue and stepped out of the door for her new world.

Tears of Vasanth

                      The world looked haunted and deserted for Vasanth. Hong Kong airport was massive, with huge glass windows lined up from the floor to ceiling. He caught his image on the window panes and tried to focus on his face midst the huge Boeing flight across the glass. He can't believe that his life has taken rapid turns in the last month. Everything started with the text messages, he has sent to Meera and one fine day, hell broke loose when he got a call from Meera. She was crying over the phone and Vasanth never saw what was coming,

"Vasanth !! Daddy is...  appa is .. !! ... " cried Meera, with words mumbling in panic.

"Meera!! hey! what happened ?? Is uncle alright? 

"No!! he isn't! he is admitted in a hospital ! They say he had a heart attack!! " sobbed Meera.

"Shit!! he was okay, even a week before!"

" I guess, he saw the text messages. He never spoke to me for two days!"

"Hang on! Don't panic! Everything is gonna be alright, I'll be there in few minutes."

"No! No Vasanth!! it's not !! I'm afraid, I might lose him."

"Cha!! stop that!! I've started, I'm coming , it will be okay, sweetie"

"Vasanth, it's all because of your text messages !! shouted Meera, with her voice becoming cacophonous with cries.

"what does this have to do with me?? you were stupid enough to keep it in your mobile, without deleting it!! Don't throw the blame on me, Meera."

"Perfect!! I'm stupid to trust you ! I'm stupid to think, that I can find solace in you. What else??  I'm stupid enough to stick myself with a loser like you!!!"

        Vasanth remembered how the call and her meetings with Meera came to an abrupt end. he thought about the blunder he made on that day, by arguing with her at the wrong time. He tried to reach her, but she never wanted to. He cursed under his breath and wore a grim look with fever of desperation clouding him, when he thought about her. Without the slightest hint of calmness, he fiddled in his pocket and flipped his phone. He browsed through the messages and finally laid his eyes on Meera's text. He was staring at her message and felt her voice spilling the words around him,

"We need to talk Vasanth. Meet me at our usual spot by 2.30 p.m." 

With the previous episode and the heated argument still fresh in his memory, he reached there on time. He didn't want to piss her by making her wait. Meera was already sitting there, relaxed and calm smile . He wondered, how could girls make mess in someone's life and still appear like a Zen Master.

"I'm really sorry, Meera! I shouldn't have spoken to you like that on the phone."

"Can't you come little early, Vasanth?"

"What?? I wasn't late, you asked me to come by 2.30 and I was here on time."

"It doesn't mean that you have to be here by 2.30 p.m. You could have come earlier!"

"Look, Meera!  I don't want to argue with you. How's uncle?"

"He is okay and they have discharged him from hospital"

   Vasanth leaved a sigh of relief, " That's good news, I'm relieved now"

"Vasanth, I'm getting engaged next month." said Meera with a straight face.

  The words felt like a blow on his face, to make him immobile. He felt difficult to swallow with a lump of distress in his throat. He wasn't sure if he had heard the right words or if he was hallucinating. 

"Meera! are you serious?? How can you do this ? I .. i can't .." mumbled Vasanth and choked for words. He knew he was going to cry, but felt ashamed to do that in front of a girl. He managed to control his anger and grief by clenching his sweat palms into a fist.

"I'm not kidding. He is an IIM graduate, working in America"

"Fuck... fuckkk!!! bull shitt!!" shouted Vasanth

"Stop swearing at me!! I'm torn between the love for you and my appa. I can't stand the sight of him suffering".

" Meera! I know how it is, I'll talk to uncle, we can sort things, please. Don't take decisions in a haste, I can't believe a world without you"

"Nothing is gonna change, appa trusts me so much and I can't break his heart again. I can't lose him for you"

"I'm not asking you to desert your dad.. please Meera!! I want you in my life, there can't be anything beautiful than you".

" You are worried only about you, but I want my folks to be happy. Do you know how it feels to watch your dad crumbling? I've seen it. It's all over, Vasanth"

"No, it's not over Meera!" before Vasanth could speak, Meera stood up,

"I'm sorry, Vasanth. You deserve a better girl than me. I'll miss you"

             The speakers came alive, with the airlines announcing the boarding gate information for Melbourne flight. Before he could recover from that memory, a gentle hand gripped his shoulder, followed by a familiar voice, "If you are going to stand like this and cry, you are most likely to miss your flight".

Welcome to Australia

                    Vasanth turned to find the old man from his earlier flight standing next to him. Embarrassment and anger grew within him; he shoved the old man's hands, to walk towards the gate 61. The old man gave a half smile and slowly walked towards the gate to join Vasanth. After an agonizing wait in the queue, he entered the flight and occupied a seat in the aisle located in the middle. To his horror, the old man sat in his adjacent aisle, close to him, but not as bad as sitting next to him.
"I saw you were crying and I know what's eating you, my boy. Do you want to know, what mistake you are doing? "said the man, turning towards Vasanth.

Vasanth didn't know what to make out of this guy, but he felt he had done enough to piss him. After all he has done to the old man, he still wanted to offer him something. In all these days, every schmuck on this planet were giving him advice and offering condolences for his loss. Perhaps, he thought there's nothing he could lose by hearing to what he says,

"Do you reckon so?? Please enlighten me by your teachings"

"hahaha.. I know you don't like me, but still I'll tell you something. You can't get your girlfriend and the dumping incident out of your mind, isn't?"

"Yes!! Do you think I didn't know that?? Tell me something else"

"The problem is you are trying to forget her, put her thoughts out of your mind. The biggest hurdle for you is her and if you can't leap that hurdle, better by pass that. Do you get what I' saying?"

"Go on... I'm listening"

"You want your mind to be devoid of her thoughts and your memories. Trust me, it's not gonna happen. If you have loved someone so much, you can't just wipe them out in an overnight and say I'm done. Then it's going to be just lust"

So far, this guy appeared like a schmuck with some trivial thoughts. Now, he saw something valuable in him and shifted himself to listen keenly.

"I have trouble talking to you like this, twisting myself at an awkward angle, shall I move next to you?" smiled the old man.

"Yup! Promise me, you won't ask me any questions after sitting with me!"

"Deal, young man!!" the old man held his thumb up in recognition and settled next to Vasanth making a loud noise.

"Where was I?

"By passing the hurdle...  the lust thing..."

"ya.. You passed the litmus test by overcoming the situation, now you have to live with her memories.

"For how long ?? You don't understand what I'm going through?"

"I appreciate that. Perhaps her memories will be with you until you die, but you need to find something that keeps your mind away from that. It could be your hobbies, career or anything. Now that you have research, put your thoughts in that and do some constructive work"

"It's easier said, than done"

"I know.. The world is only for the guys who strive towards their dream and you are exactly in the right path towards it. Hey.. let me ask you something, if you don't mind"

"Sure! go on"

"What did your girlfriend get up to?? marriage??"

"yup.. She's getting married to guy in America, MBA degree.. H1B Visa, Times square.. flashy isn't??"

"Nahh!! These guys sell diapers and tissue rolls. I guess who are doing a lot better"

                 Vasanth laughed after a very long time at the old man's dark humor. He saw a twinkle in the old man's eyes and this talk meant a lot to him. This might not heal his wounds; at least it would alleviate his pain.

"What's your name Sir?"

"Some people call me 'God'

"What?? are you serious?"

"Jokes apart, my name is Devan, which literally means 'God'. So I'm God"

"Thank you, God"

       Devan brushed Vasanth's hair, as a sign of acceptance and went back to his seat. The storm that was battering Vasanth's heart was abating now; he saw signs of recovery and his eyes closed slowly to embrace the much needed sleep. The flight cruised in the silent hours of the morning towards Melbourne.

              The skyscrapers seem to grow in size as the flight landed with a thud, before coming to halt. Excitement grew within Vasanth, when he saw the mighty city sprawled across the flight windows. The sunshine gave him a quick boost to his drooping eyelids. Hefty guys in black scanned his backpack and checked the Visa papers. With all the formalities completed, he moved across the sliding doors with his baggage.

                   Vasanth was expecting someone from his university to pick him from airport. He was looking for his name board in the small group of people and managed to spot his surname. To his surprise, he found a smiling Indian lady, holding the name board and a small girl with a bunch of flowers.

"Hi, I'm Vasanth, from India"

"Hey! I'm Anuradha. How was your flight ?"

"It was good and exhausting. By the way, is she your daughter? how old is she?"

"Oh!! Yup, she is 7 years old! I forgot about the flowers" smiled Anuradha. "Pinky, give the flowers to Vasanth uncle"

             Vasanth felt a bit weird, when he was addressed as 'uncle'. The little girl resembled a Barbie doll  with a pink outfit, holding white lilies. The little index finger was safely inside her mouth and she gave the flowers to him.

"That was so sweet. What's your name dear?"

             She eyed her mom and with a hint of shyness, "Meera! Welcome to Australia, uncle"

The pleasant shock rattled Vasanth and gave a half smile. "You made my day Meera" and he kissed the little girl.

Author's Note:

               I thank all my friends and few loyal readers for travelling with me in this journey. The whole month of July had been eventful with Vasanth & Meera. When I published my first part, I was thrilled to read the comments. Most people saw themselves in my characters and I think my success lies in it. To all those who have contributed towards this, I owe my sincere gratitude. Of course, the major share of this story's credit goes to her. Thank you, Sweetie!


Saturday, July 20, 2013

Vasanth & Meera - Memoirs I


           After many debates and a slew of dilemmas, I sat down with this story. Perhaps this is a story on love and its toll on the lives of people. Moments from the lives of Vasanth & Meera have been penned down here. The characters could be fictional, but the events surrounding Vasanth & Meera were part of real life incidents ( me & my friends). This is just a collection of their memoirs, stacked up like the imaginary tower of Babel, that leads nowhere, but still when you can cherish it all your life. The whole episode has been split in to two halves (no sequels), not to annoy the few readers of mine by a bulky story and the trouble of scrolling your mouse.

                                          Vasanth's final call

                                      The boarding pass and copy of Visa in the hands of Vasanth was holding the day. Vasanth could easily slip in to the million guys you find every day, bearing the next door boy looks and enriched with the ideals of serving a western nation. He looked smart in his newly shining black suit with a fake smile, which he tried to muster to keep his folks happy. He knew, once he crossed the security gate, there's a new world waiting for him to board. The Chennai airport was infected with farewell and adieus; every tear that was shed for their loved ones lingered in the air, making Vasanth uneasy. 

                                   Over the gate, he could see his parents trying to a wage a battle of emotions; moments of pride and grief were overwhelming them. A million of thoughts engaged the geeky grey cells of Vasanth. His mom's advice echoed in him, "Don't eat burgers!! No coke and no cheese... Sleep by 10, wear your mufflers when you go out in cold.. anddd .. "

"Keep this in your closet ! Hanuman's prasadam! It'll bring you good charm, stay away from meat during Fridays and Saturdays. Call us every alternate day; don't worry about us and money." The small packet of kum kum and his dad's thoughts were safe in his breast pocket close to his heart. 

The thoughts seem to push him in a whirlpool, with his heart sending chaotic signals to the brain. "Do I really need to make this call, leaving my wonderful family here, to pursue my goal? When can I cherish the joy of my mom's chutney or an evening stroll with my dad to a chaai shop? "The final call came from the amplifiers above Vasanth's head for his flight. With a heavy heart, he turned towards the security gate leaving his parents and tears down his cheek towards the floor.

He slid past the gates to find a hostile woman officer to check his visa and passport. After a brief glance and a stamp on the passport, she shoved it back to him, revealing how much she enjoyed her work. Vasanth took small strides to make it to the small group of people queuing in a white chamber resembling a tunnel. The tunnel made a reverberation and pushed hot air, making Vasanth's first flight trip creepy. The tunnel ended with a steward welcoming the passengers and gave him the first appearance of the flight cabin. 

Vasanth managed to find his seat and it was a seat close to window, perhaps the only good thing that has happened since dawn. Before the joy could dwell in his face, a heavy built man came sliding across the aisle of seats, literally pushing Vasanth,
"I'm sorry young man, shall I take the window seat? I feel relaxed when I sit near the window" said the man.
Vasanth was wondering, why would a guy need a window seat in the middle of a night," Okay Uncle!! "

The guy finally landed in the window seat, thrusting his belly within the confined space and squeezed his legs pushing his front seat. Occasional glances fell on Vasanth's attire, they normally don't find people in suits flying in economy classes. The cool air brushed his hair on the forehead and gave him a soothing feeling. It was 15 mins past 12 o'clock , but still he couldn't bring down his eyes.

"Is this your first flight trip??" asked the man.

Vasanth felt like saying, does that annoy you, but he didn't. He answered in a single syllable, with a straight face, " Yup.. ".

"Bingo !! See how I figured that! Let me tell your history now " the guy beamed.

"Good on you"

"You are here to spend your dad's money in a two year shit course !! hahaha !!!" The old man laughed at his own sarcasm or joke or whatever he thought it was.


Vasanth's answer brought a mild surprise in that guy's face, but still he never stopped questioning.

"hmmm !! then what are you up to ?"

Their conversation came to a temporary halt, when the air hostess asked them to wear their seat belts. Vasanth was relieved and his inner voice thanked her.

"Do you think she is pretty?? I have the feeling ...... hang on.. aren't we off the track??? so are you on a vacation?"

"I m off to Australia to do my research.. in simple terms a PhD... "

"PhD??? you should be smart for that!! what made you to do that?? I mean .. your research.. like someone might be inspirational or stuffs like that".

Vasanth really wanted to end this talk, not that he hated his fellow passengers, but he felt sober when someone asks about his Phd. He knew where exactly it was heading to, so he replied,

" you want an answer and here it is, my girlfriend ditched me, so I was pushed in to this research thing, is it okay now???" Vasanth's tone was bit harsh and the guy stuffed his headphones in his ears.

Vasanth was bit upset about his behavior,but the thing which annoyed him the most was his honest reply. Every time he tried to wither her thoughts, he knew it's going to make matters worse. He experienced the true meaning of his name (spring), when he was in a beautiful world called Meera. Meera is the girl who would like to slap and peck on Vasanth's cheek for no reason. Vasanth was still searching the reason, which made her to move out of his life. He closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would give him a temporary relief, but his memory was largely laden with Meera.

                                                           Birthday gift

             Hans Zimmer's score was filling the living room, it was electric, the percussion sent a chill painting a dark tone. Vasanth tried to focus on his desktop screen, but the fabric of Meera which was brushing him, kept him at bay. Whenever she pointed to the screen, he never saw what she was up to, but he stole a quick glance of her face.

"Vasanth, shall we try to work on our assignment?"

"what ?? what did you say?"

"Keep your eyes on the screen, not on my face"

"okaayyyy!!" murmured Vasanth." Meera, didn't you forget something?"

Meera's lips formed into a thin line and she crooked her head to think, meanwhile Vasanth tried to gaze at her cute expression. "Nothing that I could remember of"

"Come on Meera, you remember this bull shit assignment but you forget the promise you have made"

"Now I know where this is heading, birthday gift isn't??"

"Ya!!!" Vasanth's face sunk. "I just can't believe a guy pestering his girl friend to give him a birthday gift"
Meera smiled sheepishly, " Fine, what do you want birthday baby??"

"I don't want anything big, just a kiss! simple as that!"

"What?? a kiss?? are you kidding??"

"No! I swear on your puppy, I'm serious !"

"Idiot! stop this!! I don't think I'm ready for this. I need to think"

"Hey I never gave a thought about this before asking you, but why do you make such a fuss for this??"

"This isn't a candy or a cookie, moreover I'm a girl and I can't say yes to everything"

        Vasanth was furious and moved towards the balcony. He tried to vent out his rage by griping the railings with his knuckles going white. Meera came behind him, with her palm resting on his back.

"Vasanth, what are you doing?? you are hurting yourself!!"

"Leave me alone, Meera! I'm pissed off at myself and I don't want anyone to say yes for me"

"Don't be so mean, Vasanth! You don't understand me, leave it."

"Stop the crap! Can you leave me alone, please???"

            Someone was shaking Vasanth's shoulder to disrupt his brief affair with Meera. When he woke up, it was the air hostess serving breakfast at odd hours. The tray was beautifully decorated with sandwiches and orange juice filling the brim of the disposable cup. The sight of tissues hanging at the edge of the tray sent him once again a wave of emotions.

"Can you leave me alone, please???"

 Vasanth really wondered, if Meera took that seriously, leaving him in a no man's land. Everything around him was filled with her, telling him that he had missed something invaluable in his life. Just like the tissues sitting in the tray, reminded him of the ice cream parlor incident.

                                                           'Crazy about you'

         The ice cream parlor 'Boomerang' had very less sunlight entering through the tinted glasses. The walls were adorned with canvas arts of sundae and milk shakes. The place had pink theme designed to attract all the girls on the earth. It was a place where most birthday cakes and guys wallet burnt. Most tables in the parlor were occupied by people in pairs, with occasional glances from single guys or elderly people, on the endless romance that was staged for free.

           Vasanth felt bit weird, because he was never accustomed to an ice cream parlor. He found the spot as told by Meera, the one behind the cash counter. He sat down with excitement running all over his body, but tried to conceal it by flipping through the pages of the tiny menu card. To his horror, almost every ice cream was priced above Rs.50, so he decided to order a bottle of water and wait for her.The waiter came back with a small bottle of water giving him a look, which said 'if he had come all the way to an ice cream shop to order water bottle"

            Vasanth beamed a sheepish smile and gulped half the bottle, before Meera pushed the doors to come in. She wore a green kurtha which was radiant matching her jubilant smile. The smile lingered on her full lips and her dark hair moved rhythmically to the back ground music in the parlor. She sat next to Vasanth and nudged her elbow in his ribs. 

"How is my new kurtha?? I love green, my favorite color!!!" 

"you look like a princess" smiled Vasanth

"Thank you, sweetheart!"

"What ice cream do you want? I have no idea about this, guess i'll go with choco classic" said Vasanth, because choco classic was the only one that was below Rs.50.

"I'll go with a vanilla punch". 
Vasanth gave the orders at the counter and came back with few tissues in his hand. Meera took his arms in hers and was staring at his palms in a pensive mood. 

"Vasanth!! Wish I could come with you like this , holding your hands and resting myself on your shoulders"

The waiter approached them with their orders, the sight of him made Vasanth bit embarassed to hold her arms, so he quickly tried to withdraw himself from her. This act of Vasanth pissed off Meera, 

"Why did you do that?"

"Everyone are watching us, Meera! It feels bit weird to act like this in public"

"I don't care a shit about that" Meera moved close to Vasanth, slipping her hands under his elbows and resting her smooth cheek on his shoulder. Vasanth felt heaven was not far away, but came in a beautiful form called as Meera. 

"I just can't understand you Meera! last week you were so fussy when I asked a kiss, but now you are... acting different. Strange !"

"Welcome to the world of girls!!"

"grrrrhhh !! crap !!"

"Idiot!!!" Both laughed in unison, acknowledging their childish behavior. Before the smile could vanish from Vasanth's face, Meera kissed on his cheek, leaving a trail of her baby pink lip gloss. 

Vasanth was totally taken aback by the kiss, which was a total surprise and before he could relish that,it was over. Just like the wish you wanted to make, while there is a shooting star above us. 

"are you ok, Vasanth?" giggled Meera

"That.. thatttt. was bloody awesome" said a Vasanth, smiling shyly.

"Now you will understand, why I wanted you hold this table for us"

"Ya.. ya.. damn no CCTV camera above us and a vantage point too!! you are smart sweety!!"

"I'm always dear. Now I want the lip gloss on your cheek to be left undisturbed"

"What the hell!! lip gloss on my cheeks??? shit ! shit ! " Vasanth grabbed the tissues and tried to wipe his cheeks, but Meera caught his arms. 

"Sorry dude!! If you love me, don't wipe it. No one's gonna look at your cheeks"

"Are you crazy?? what's the connection between the lip gloss and my love for you??" 

" yes !! I'm crazy about you, Vasanth! Will you do it for me ??"

            The slight rumble from the plane did not deter Vasanth's ebbing memories. He touched his cheeks and smiled, wondering if the lip gloss was still on his cheeks. The old woman in the next aisle was puzzled by his reaction and gave him a scornful look.

                                                                 The Last Mail

            While Vasanth was cruising at a speed of 850km/hr in airbus A 330 somewhere below 35,000 ft, birds were chirping to welcome a new day.  ......... 

( more in Vasanth & Meera Memoirs II)

Monday, June 24, 2013

Tweets on my updates !!!

                        The cafeteria in my university was buzzing with students,holding a sense of excitement and anxiety that was infectious. Most of them were glued to sleek apple products and their fingers caressing the screen of the smart phones. The coke can and the carton of noddles were left waiting, while the students were happily confronting with their gadgets. Cafeteria which was once laden with gossips and giggles have been draped with occasional murmurs. This scenario could be seen in most countries where people call themselves as tech savvy. 

                          Researchers are quite paranoid about global warming and some lethal virus that is likely to wipe out mankind in future. On the other hand I wonder what happens when a mystical force sucks in all these gadgets into its vortex, or seizes Mr.Goggle and its allies. Few weeks back, due to a fire breakout in a telecom unit in Australia, people experienced chaos without internet. So it's more likely to occur, when we would be forced to smile at our neighbors, after ages.

                         In an age, where the levels of comfort have soared high with the aid of machines, people find it hard or annoying to use their cognizance. We need apps and maps to find out the shortest and quickest route to our nearest McDonald; reminders to keep tab of our folks birthdays and anniversaries. When was the last time we used our grey cells to calculate our monthly bills without relying on the calculator. I might sound eccentric or weird in today's context,but that's how most of our forefathers lived for centuries.

                           The most superior race of the planet is now under a curse and being held as slaves under the hands of binary codes (0 &1). With the plight of social networking sites creeping in our living rooms, where the dad hits like to his daughter's hangout photo. The most sickening thing is when I found some relationships being broken based on some trivial updates by him/her. It drives me crazy when my cousin sends me a friend request, masking her real age which is 14.

                            There is no point in pointing fingers either at Mark Zuckerberg or the Twitter guy; it is we, who have pushed ourselves to this paranoid world,updating every single minute on how we feel. The fear of being left alone seems to have engulfed us, leaving us to follow every schmuck in Twitter. This malignancy has struck the chords of children basking them in ignorance and perturbation. The idiot box and XBOX 360 have kept them in their couches. I wonder if they would ever find out, there's something called playground and sun outside.

                           As quoted by the famous environmentalist David Attenborough, children will soon discover on how plants grow and what animals eat. The lack of real world knowledge makes them more susceptible to believe in the information entrusted by the internet and the media community. Today's kids spend time talking to Dora and fighting in Call of Duty warfare. My childhood has been adorned with fables from my granny and I'm not sure if  I could pass this legacy to my future generations.

                            I wish there was an apocalypse that would bring about an end to this techno wizardry and utter madness. An era where we could walk with our loved ones without the vibrations from our phone; a time frame where we can enjoy the hot shower and delicious breakfast, without an update of what we are up to; a journey where there are no ridiculous emails listing jobs on how to earn $589 per hour. At the end of the day, life is all about cherishing little things and saving those precious moments as souvenirs. 
PS: If you don't care about the above stuff, share this and like it :D

Thursday, June 6, 2013


            "The history of a soldier's wound beguiles the pain of it"
--Laurence Sterne

               The magnificent citadel was cloaked in dust from the storms that flew across the Vale of Lacedaemonia*. It was housed in the midst of sprawling weeds and crumbled leaves.The wind blew across them, filling the structure with the scent of daffodils and leaving a trail of dampness, as a gift for the molds. The early morning sun rays have sneaked into the citadel, elegantly passing through the crevices and recess, to find the wounded warrior, Athanas. The pain never seemed to stultify the glory of the young warrior, who was bleeding from the grotesque wound on his shoulder. 

                       Athanas stooped forward eyeing his hoplon* engraved with his family symbol, the lambda. He knows how it feels to have this in his armory. The hoplon chooses the real men, who unceremoniously fight for glory and welcome death. Now it was dotted in crimson shades and stained with the dried blood of enemies. The ethical liturgy was overwhelming, when the glossy scabbard* shone in sunlight. He remembered the words spoken by his lady love, Elysia, before he stepped in to the jaws of death. 

                         Her words reverberated in his mighty heart, sending a sense of revulsion towards battlefield. The strand of hair that conceals her thick brows and the divine smile that blooms in her face besotted him upon her. Just like a lightening, Elysia struck him and joined his soul, after her subjugation with Greek Gods. Finally, the day had arrived for him to join the legion and seek glory; the moment that tore his fabric of solace. Athanas rested himself in her bosom to listen her soul's whisper, which said,

                       "the battlefield needs men like you, who fight to break the shackles of slavery. Some kill for gold and some do it to taste power, but when you do it, fame will embrace you. Come back with this shield unscathed, I shall be waiting for you with white Horner's flower.."

                       The shrill sound echoed the Gothic structure like a daemon, signaling the warriors for the ambush. The legion arose with mighty spears and a maroon cloth adorning their broad shoulder. The belligerent warrior sprang up, with his spear pointing forward to quench its blood thirst. He lurched forward and joined the legion, like an ant swarm. The bloodshot eyes made rapid movements imbibed with anxiety and fatigue.

                     The blanketing silence was overthrown by the enemy's arrow, which went searching in between their shields. The next moment was marred with cries and agony; the warriors marched forward succumbing themselves to a holocaust. The ground below them trembled with fear; flowery petals lost its chrome to this unprecedented hatred. Amid the shower of arrows, Athanas pounced forward thrusting the spear into the enemy's throat and came down battling for breath.

                         The wind carried Athanas' final breath across ravines and jungles to reach Elysia' castle. the wind rattled its way, before coercing her sleep and bolting her upright. Beads of perspiration hemmed in her forehead with uneasiness creeping in. She moved in elegance carrying her grace with mixed emotions engaged in a quibble. The sight of silvery moon losing its sheen nad the cry of the owls pushed a lump in her throat. Elysia's arms slowly caressed her belly feeling the seed of life in her and mumbled,

                      " sshhh.. Don't be afraid of the bad omen, son. Far across the horizon, your father stands tall against the prowess of evil, to seek light. You will rise against the burgeoning turmoil and  the beasts, along with your father. You will be my son and a warrior.. "

*Lacedaemonia- it refers to the ancient city in Greece.
*hoplon- it refers to the shield employed by the Greeks, to protect against enemy's attack, usually made of bronze or wood.
*scabbard- sheath for holding the sword or knife, made of leather or brass. 

Monday, May 20, 2013

Shades of Green

             “The earth has music for those who listen”,
           I felt like a child in pursuit of a butterfly, while penning down this article. This blog is dedicated to Mr.Rangasamy (my biology teacher) who instilled me the hymns of nature. To the man, who taught us more than science.  

"In the shroud of the blue sky, the smoky clouds were hanging in there trying to embezzle the nature’s beauty. The canopies of trees were the able students to their masters sitting in heaven, brushing aside to nod their heads in acknowledgement. The air was scented with lilies, which could program the performance code in most primitives of this planet. Amidst all, she emerged from the golden ray of the sun, with her head pointing down. She unfolded her wings, which shone and vibrated, to let her muscles warm in the morning light. She loved sex more than her mate and lived in isolation all her life as a queen. The solitary wasp, the queen launched herself beside me, to hunt for its prey. 

The wasp was few inches next to me, having landed on a huge hackberry leaf; it was waiting to pound on the caterpillar that was feeding the leaf. Perhaps, it’s a wonder that, how could a wasp far across could track her prey without radar. To unveil the mystery, the Mother Nature has the most intriguing answers to such thought provoking questions. There are approximately 300,000 plants and 900,000 species of insects, of which most eat plants. In this scenario, most plants would have been chewed up by them, but still we find green foliage encompassing us. Plants have evolved defenses in the name of chemical warfare against such attackers.

Plants need to stand their ground when pests attack and there‘s no turning back. They can’t scream for help, but they produce chemicals (green leafy volatiles) which can easily evaporate and attracts its bodyguards. The process is quite simple and symbiotic; the communication is so effective that the bodyguards hop on the leaves to dine on the plant eaters. A distress signal from one plant aids its neighbors, which can have a drastic impact on agriculture. This defense evolution of plants is significant in understanding their communication with other lives.

Plants took at least a few million years to manifest the several thousand chemicals in trillion ways to produce synergistic results which are quite complex. If the evolution has progressed exponentially, then our agriculture would have hit boom. All plants would have been literally kicking out every possible predator on earth; no pesticides and no crop destruction. Conversely, this never occurred; some plants were vulnerable. To understand this, we need a leaf from Darwin’s book ‘Origin of Species’.

 Darwin emphasizes on the underlying concept, i.e. those individuals that are more responsive to change, can survive by means of evolution. It is a common misnomer that only the ‘strongest’ or ‘fittest’ survive; it is an ecological niche. For a population to survive, it needs both strong and weak to thrive. Stronger ones can’t survive without bullying the weaker ones. Just imagine, if only the strong or fittest survived, we would be rubbing shoulders with a population of Einstein and Muhammad Ali. The evolution doesn’t work like that; we have weaklings like apples which could be easily plucked and a pineapple with prickly thorns.

So, some plants can cry for help by means of loud signals, while others only whisper. Individuals which are termed as ‘fit’ in one particular environment need not be the same in another habitat. Cactus can survive in scorching sun but when you put the same in the poles, the rules of the game change. Survival is not just battling the weather and predators; it’s a ticket that Mother Nature throws to all. Every organism tries to increase its odds in seizing the opportunity. It’s no wonder that plants have evolved so much, leaving mankind far behind the race. If at all the mankind, the so called superior race of this planet have reproduced fitter ones, we wouldn’t be walking to our refrigerators to grab the leftovers and diet coke.

Now you can appreciate the signals sent by hackberry leaves, inviting the Queen (the wasp) to chew out the caterpillar. The chemical signals produced by them are in the order of few parts per billion, but still they exert significant bio activity. Normally when we fall ill, the doctor scribbles antibiotics and few vitamin pills for the next 15 days, so that the pharmacist pays for the doctor’s foreign trip.  The antibiotics that we take, try to control the symptoms without curing. So, most medications are excreted back to the environment chemically unchanged. It’s said that most viruses and bacteria have evolved (except we humans) by gaining resistance to most drugs.

The lives of plants are extraordinary; with so many untold stories and process that are performed in loops remain hidden. What we see is staggering beauty, but we fail to appreciate its taciturn approach to most staggering issues. We act as charlatans with trivial things indoctrinated to awe at nature’s fecundity and aggressiveness. We aren’t alone, but with a superior race to maintain weave the sense of uncertainty and heal us when we fall sick.

OMG!!! Wait a minute; I could feel something moving in my jeans. Is a wasp sneaking in, that’s the last thing I needed. Damn, it was my phone crying, at the signal from my queen (not the wasp, but my female friend!!!).

Queen: Just finished my class, I’ll join u in 15 mins

Me: no worries, I m already in the park waiting for you for the past 30 mins.

Queen: I m so sorry to keep u waiting. What did you do so long?

Me: ahhhh!!! To be precise, I was missing you!! "


Tuesday, May 7, 2013

This isn't mine

Author’ Note:
                What do you reckon when you see this title, “This isn’t mine”? Yup! You've nailed it. This work does not belong to me, in the context of plagiarism, but in a lighter tone, this was greatly inspired from the work of Emma Donoghue’s The Room. I knew at the end of my work, I never did a justice, even in the process of lifting her style of writing. Perhaps it’s not fair (to compare!!!) to discuss such literary works in mine. So, I leave it to my loyal readers to comment on my work. Entire work has two parts (lullaby and requiem), which has contrasting tone (deliberate grammatical errors in lullaby part ) embedded to it and I guess I've finally made a blog that is honest and close to my heart.

                This is how I sit, with my pencil inside the mouth and my tongue tasting the juice of it. The paper in front of me sits just like me, blank without a word, except my name on the top of it, Saranya. I'm Saranya, who often finds trouble in getting her name correct in the papers; so my amma came up with a brilliant idea of having it on my writing pad for exams. That’s how I don’t have a red mark drawn across the name by my miss. Now you can guess how stupid I'm and it will annoy you more if you know that, I'm into my second grade now. Every day my miss asks me a question, knowing that I don’t have an answer for her. She says, “I m good for nothing”. Perhaps, she doesn’t know, what I m good at.

                Now this paper is waiting for me to write down the answer for the question,”Uses of trees”. It took me whole evening to by heart the word ‘education’. The answer for this question has 11 lines (I always write it wrong- leven or elven!!!)  and more words that are longer than ‘education’. So I thought of doing something better than remembering all those lines, so I drew pictures of trees and a sun in orange color with crayons. I like crayons and colors that use water to mix, but my amma screams at me when I get the color in the fingers and on my face. She says, if it goes into my belly, I will fall ill and I need to see doctor uncle.

                 Doctor Uncle and his white place (everything is white there, walls, table, his dress and even his hair) scares me, but he gives me gems, every time I go there.  I always ask for the pink ones, because it makes my tongue pink in color. So my amma got me color pencils, but I always use crayons to color my trees. I showed my picture to my amma, she said trees shouldn’t be in blue color, but in TV they showed blue trees. When I asked her about that, she asked to me to study for the test. I was so sad that I had to take that long answer book again. I asked God to make the answer very small for me, but it was the same and I started to cry.

                I don’t know why my tears taste salty, when I asked my amma; she told me that God made it salty, so that we won’t cry to taste it.  I liked my tears and I was hungry. I went to the kitchen to look for amma and I found her cutting carrots. I put few of them in my mouth when she turned back.

“Don’t eat that without washing them, it has germs”

“I’ll drink some water after eating them, so that water will kill them in my belly. Amma! I m hungry can I have dosa”

“You can’t have dosa daily, kutty! I made upma today”

“I don’t like upma, it sticks to my teeth and not sweet”

“You can have upma in your new Mickey Mouse bowl”

                Today I liked upma because it was in my new bowl which had Mickey and Minnie Mouse stuck on it. Minnie Mouse was coloring its lips with a red crayon. I know my mom has a similar crayon in her table. I went to her room to get my lips colored, but I could not find it, she must have hid it somewhere. Outside it was black with little white stars all over the sky. Every day I tried to count them, I lose my count after 8. I don’t like when the sky goes black, because amma puts me to sleep and when I wake up, I have to go to school again. I m scared about the test tomorrow and my friends who would laugh at me when I don’t know say an answer.

                Amma says everything will be good tomorrow, if I sleep, so I jump in to my bed and pull my covers. I go into them and its dark, like the sky outside and now I remember the monster stories told by my friend. So I hold my covers tightly so that monsters can’t get inside them. Before the monsters came for me, my mom woke me up for the next day’s school. With my eyes opened a little, I brushed, tasting the paste and closed my Duckie’s (Duckie is my teddy bear) eyes when I was wearing my uniform. Amma told me that I had games period after my test, which made me happy and I smelled nice with Johnson baby powder.

                The test paper was still waiting for me to write. I prayed to God to put some words in it, I opened my eyes a little while praying, to see if God was writing in my paper. He never liked me, so he didn’t write. I want to write about my new Mickey Mouse bowl, but I don’t know what to write. So, I drew the trees and the sun. My miss started to get papers from every one, if she sees my paper, then she will show it to everyone. All my friends will laugh and I’ll cry again. This time God heard my prayers by the school bell, we all ran to the ground leaving our papers with her. Now its games period and I m so happy.

                Indeed it was a happy moment for Saranya, because she never realized, that she would experience a monster in reality. On the following day, Saranya was sodomized by her neighbor, in his home. The next morning, Saranya woke up from a nightmare, panting with beads of perspiration. She choked for words, to describe what her neighbor did to her. It was learnt that, the guy let her off, after the poor girl started to vomit.

The poor girl was lured with biscuits by her neighbor. She failed to see the sickness that was staring at her, in the name of cream biscuits. The little girl, who loved to paint, is now getting treated in a hospital, after which she has to undergo counseling sessions to get over her trauma. I’m not sure, if she would love gems again or watch stars in a cloudless night without any atavistic fears blinding her.

The lullaby part was a pure fiction of mine based on Saranya’s interests, as told by her mother. This was penned down out of spite, to showcase the disruption of a childhood. I don’t want to plead on the need for draconian laws, which in no way is going to bring Saranya’s lost dreams. She will never feel safe anywhere, having been destroyed at the hands, which were once considered haven. Now she sleeps in a hospital with her knees close to her small chest, breathing heavily and fear embracing her inside of a teddy bear.