First of its kind in my life - Someone wrote a Poem for me !!!!

It was yet another Personal Effectiveness Programme.  With the content too familiar, and the timings quite hectic, I was prepared for yet another hectic session that week. This session is especially hectic as it is spans 30 hours in the week over a period of 5 days and covers Communication, Thinking skills,  Time management, Business Etiquette and finally Goal Setting.  Also involves a lot of interaction, activities on all days and one on one sessions with most partipants.

Like in all sessions, when the session begins, the energy flows in automatically when I interact with the participants and that was a week of interesting effort.

This batch was no extra ordinary, a typical software crowd, but most of them  had the willingness to learn and interact and refine themselves. End of the week, the participants were happy, they liked the session and I was also content that I delivered a good session. The last day when we were winding up, one of the participants came and told me that he has written a Poem for the way I had handled the session.

And he went on to read his poem.  I was touched, happy and had one of those "emotional moments".   But you see, I was a facilitator and I guess I pulled it off pretty well.  

Here is the poem...

I am sure Haja Mohammed does not know, no one has written a poem exclusively for me.. till date !!!

For those who do not understand Tamil, ( in which the poem is written), he has described the five modules that i had handled poetically ( in chaste Tamil) and finally has said, " You will succeed definitely, since the facilitator is Vincy"

To my bestest friend !!!

Surprise is your middle name – I have figured that out over a period of time.

Smiles, laughters, Surprises, Appreciations, Heartaches, tears along with all those long chats, small fights, periods of silence there has been a lot of ups and downs. I guess I know you pretty well, but you are always unpredictable. You turn up like a bad (good) penny at the most unexpected moment. How very true. The first time you said it, I never expected it to be so true.

You always made me see myself in a different light through your eyes. Bold, Adamant, Emotional, intelligent, quick wit, a sharp sense of humour, gift of the gab, love and care, the list of what I like in you goes on.

There is a bond that you and me share.. just U and Me.

Thankyou for being my best friend. Thank God for making us meet !!

Complete Gibberish !!!

This might look and sound like complete gibberish and it is intentionally done that way.

Airport baggage terminal – Is that where you claim stuff and how???

Geared bicycle inside Orange – unbelievable

15 minute trip to airport

Runway trip

Elliots beach and tharavaad

Tomato Rice and scrambled eggs …mmmmm

First Long drive in the Zen

A walk into Masha Allah

STC : a cool nights breeze on the shoulder

Maanasarovar – evening moon

I will turn up like a bad penny!!!

Is it Vincy comma Joseph or Vincy Joseph??

Surprise !!

It was an unexpected ride
an offer to drop me home
The ride was Joyous
and you dropped me at the gate
I got into our home
Plonked onto the bed
Wondering why you never came in
And then I heard the bell.

Looking through the keyhole
My heart skipped a beat
I was all smiles and blushing
At the unexpected surprise

Couldnt beleive it was happening
And asked you to have lunch
I held my composure
and in the inside I was dancing

I still remember what your eyes told me
And those keep me going
Even today
on days everything else looks grim and terse

Vincy Joseph

Random thoughts

This month I turned 40 ( OMG !!!  Cant beleive it myself)  and this is my 30th post.  No relevance or connection between the two.  Thats the reason  the blog got its title.

This month has been an hectic one ( when was it not? ) but I guess with an RTL for an captive account outside my office premise and a couple of leadership programmes to co-facilitate, and the regular work that i got to do, this month actaully sapped a lot of my energy and enthusiam.  But with pain there is always gain - the learnings I have had in the last one month is incredible. Its brought me to a turning point in my professional life and I am looking forward to the change of gears.

Today for instance I am listening to Robin Sharma's audio on Greatness Guide and I am completely taken in by the content and yes of course by the voice of Robin.  I like the choice of words ( he has great vocabulary), and twirls in his accent and his voice has this mellowing effect and actually has the capability to build on me.  In fact, as I write this blog I am listening to his greatness guide and am really enjoying it.

Thats one of the things that I started doing new this month - listening to audio books and podcasts.  Contrary to my belief that its going to be boring and inefficient, I find the whole thing much more interesting than even reading a book.  Like for example the contents of Greatness Guide is something that I have read before, but hearing it in Robin's voice gives it a completely different perspective - his conviction, ingenuinity and the voice adds up together and the contents actually sink in.  I am in love with Robin Sharma's voice.

There are two people whom I need to thank for this new habit of mine.  First is my hubby dearest - he picked up a nice mobile with a lot of features as a birthday gift.  Initially I was a little releuctant to use an high end mobile but I got around that idea and have started using it and I am already using it more than my other mobiles.

Second is Bhaskar Natarajan - a very unassuming, young, inspiring intelligent individual with a strong intellect who has gone beyond his call of duty to help me out to see what I can do with myself.  He continues to inspire me every single moment he spends with me through his wisdom, maturity and simple acts of kindness.  He has been guiding me on the consulting assignments that I have partnered with him in the past few months, and now grooming me into leadership sessions that I will be facilitating.  His sessions and the way he handles customers, associates and senior leaders are all a source of inspiration and learning for me.  I feel I have learnt so much in such a short time than i have done in all my career.

As I listen to Robin Sharma today, he kind of reminds me that he is putting everything that he is heard from Robin to work.  I need to thank Bhaskar for inspiring me to look beyond what I am curently doing at work, for showing me the world of management books ( yes it is true that my love for books are limited to fiction and more fiction), in fact, Bhasker has gifted me atleast 3 books signed by him, and for the ebooks and the podcasts that he has copied into my mobile that I can listen to.

This June has also been hectic emotionally - some unusual things happened this month.  My maid, my support system at home, Ammu, tried immolating herself.  Luckily unsuccessful she had to spend time at hospital and is back at home.  I am so upset with her that she even tried doing that.  I had in the past told her that if she has good health and some will power, anything is possible in this world.  Anyways she is safe and out of danger.  Its left me with some lessons in life :

           1. Smile at  people you know and do not take any one for granted

           2. Build good relationships ( it helped me get another maid in a matter of hours)

           3. However busy you are, have time to look around and watch out for red flags.

I felt a bit guilty about Ammu - Maybe if I had tried speaking to Ammu in my busy RTL schedule, I might have stopped her from this decision.

Bhaskar's grandmom passed away and he was quite close to his grandmom.  Dennu fell down from his bicycle and was injured a bit - had to take professional help in medication.  A tap opened up and flooded our entire ground floor - the hall, bedroom, kitchen inlcuding the carpets on a day when power was off for some 9 hours and left me completely stranded.

Adversity teaches lessons that never will be forgotten.  Good for me!!

Flora and Fauna : My Garden

There are some places where I lose myself.  Completely.  There are also some people with whom I lose myself, not completely though.  If I carry on with the topic of people, I would certainly digress from the topic of this blog so, let me focus. The teeny weeny 5 feet by 5 feet garden in the front of our house is one such place, where I lose myself and yet find my soul being refreshed.

Garden sounds quite an  overwhelming name  to the small patch of soil that I call a garden with no less grandeour and emphasis given to a botanical garden in hillstations or the hanging gardens of Babylon. When we bought the house that we are residing in now, Joe was quite unhappy about cementing the four unconstructed sides surrounding our house ( which was not much).  The independant house had very little space to move around and we barely kept minimal unbuilt spaces.  While we decided to pave the miniscule backyard with tiles, we decided to open the sides and this 5 feet into 5 feet space near the gate, so that we can be in constant touch with mother earth.

We started with major dreams around this garden like any beginner would have, such as  having a water fountain and paving it with Korean grass, having statues, seating arrangements etc etc., not considering the fact that this tiny place might not hold all these accessories, even one at a time.  However, we continued dreaming until the truth hit us, after we started living there.

I decided to make the most of this space and started with bringing in plants intiatlly nurtured and grown in my parents place, and then growing it here. Our garden had a splendid start with atleast around 15 well grown potted plants for our housewarming and then my lack of experience in dealing with plants started to show slowly, but steadily.  This was a couple of years ago.

But, I am quick learner you see and I started learning and growing these potted plants.  I read up material, asked the people who run nurseries for tips, took hints from my friends who had gardens and I started seeing the results.

Today our garden is home to atleast 30 potted plants, around 24 varieties of plants, flowering and non flowering both, and in the centre of our plants is my long time dream of a flower shaped concrete fish tank with a lots of ornamental fish.  The plants are lush green, bright and beautiful. And I almost forgot there are some terracotta pots and a figurine of a horse that I have put in a corner to make my garden look a little more pleasing.  I went along with a friend of mine to ECR, to pick up the pots and got it delivered to my city office and from there brought it home by car. I call this is "Terracotta corner".

Every morning one of the first things that I do is to water them, talk to them, cajole them, touch them and assure them that I am around for them.  One of the last things I do at the end of the day, actually in the night is the repeat of my morning activity.  It is satisfying to see a plant grow well and one of the most joyous moments is to see a bud coming out and finally bloom into a flower. 

Other than the plants and the fishes that I take care of, there are frogs, chameloens and little insects that I see occasionally there.  Birds do come, but they fly away as soon as they see me and there are these pestering rats that come and dig holes in the ground, which I promptly fill up during a weekend. On an average I spend around 15 minutes everyday watering the plants and feeding the fish.

I get my heart's fill of quality time with my flora and fauna during the weekends.  I spend atleast 3 hours on saturday working in this green patch. Armoured with the garden tools, manure, and gloves  I pull out every single pot, loosen up the soil by digging it carefully, in the process touch them, hold them and talk to them, and sometimes add some manure to the sides, so that they grow well.  The recent manure that I picked up for them is called Bio-enzymes that can help the plants in Climate related stress too.  :-).  Then I clean up the fish tank, initially I used scrub the tank till my hands hurt and ached, but now I use a little bleaching powder to make the tank look sparkling clean.

And every weekend, I also get the joy of rearranging the pots and plants so that I have a different garden scape.  It definitely is back breaking work, but the joy you get after this is worth all the pain that I go through and it also gives me the much needed exercise for the week.  I had recently put up the pictures of the garden in my website and I had so many compliments for my garden.


The best part of my weekend after all the hardwork is just looking at the garden, enjoying the greenery and smile at the fish playing... or simply staring at this little green patch in solitude.

First Compliments

Elated is an understatement  for the feeling I went through when I saw the first compliment on the Internet.  There are these moments which are frozen in memory, sometimes tears well up and sometimes there is a lump in the throat and automatically my thoughts run to thank GOD for the immense love that he shows through these simple acts of kindness.

I went through these moments of glory twice last month and I am combining both these moments as both these moments of exictement had one common ground...  in fact there is no ground as both were on Virtual platforms.

Internet these days are so much part of our daily life that many times we feel handicapped in the absence of it.  I use net to search for people, institutes, software, learning, knowledge and for information sakes.  One of these days I wanted to check what information is thrown up on the net when my name is keyed in...  And with a lot of curiosity I typed my name... and Voila....  there were loads of information not just about me but any vague phonetic sound that matched Vincy or Joseph.  

I was thrilled to see one of my blogs as part of the information and I kept browsing.  I guess it was the third page and I found my name and my eyes scanned the words Mahindra Satyam and so I clicked the site and it was a blog site of one of our associates in my organisation, Mahindra Satyam,  called Sakthi.  I do not know this associate, but what he had written in his blog brought that wide grin and that moment of glory.

Sakthi's compliments goes like this and I would like to reproduce it here verbatim,

"Vincy Joseph presented the show very well, and for the people who know Vincy, i don’t have to tell or Praise about her. She’s an extremely talented and elegant lady who can influence anybody as she makes a strong presence in all minds in a very professional way."

The link where you will find the article is here..

http://rsakthi.wordpress.com/2009/10/03/mahindra-satyam-family-day-celebrations/

Being a trainer there are many instances I have received compliments, but this one is in a public forum and this associate Sakthi does not know that I might even end of reading this.. and I kind of stumbled on this very accidentally. To hear compliments in private, meaning one to one or inside a group definitely is a happy feeling, but to see it in print, in black and white is definitely a joyful experience.  And that moment of glory lingers on.

The other moment of pride and glory was when I saw Bhaskar, our RTL coach and facilitator's recommendation on Linked In.  LinkedIn is a networking platform for professionals and it is quite common for people part of the network to get recommendations from their bosses, colleagues and friends on their quality and attitude to work.  I strongly beleive that asking for recommendation, especially about the quality of one's work should be spontanous and self-driven from the giver rather than ask for it.  Being part of Linkedin for more than a couple of years and not having a single recommendation was beginning to worry me and thats when I saw Bhaskar's recommendation, a rather forcefully strong reco at that.  And my eyes moistened, throat choked.

These small mercies in life keep me going and truly feel blessed for these small mercies.

ACHAPPAM

My mom and her positive influence on me is yet another blog topic that i will end up writing soon, but this topic deals with the way my mom can make Achappams aka Rose cookies to perfection. Among all the palagarams ( sweets and saviouries that are made during festival times and those grand occasions), this is one sweet that I love the most.

They are golden brown, crisp, dotted with those black seeds, wonderfully tasty and gets you literally addicted to it : you can never stop with one. I thought this was because they are my favourites, but i reaslised that they are addictive to even my friends at office, who haunt me to get them more.

Achappams are generally only prepared and sent to our house in hundreds, and especially for my son Dennu as snacks when he returns from school. I like them so much as i mentioned earlier better than any other tradional keralite sweets such as vatteppam, kinnathappam or Unniappam, that i devour them whenever i am home and hence Achappams go like hotcakes as soon as they come...

I personally have not tried making Achappams nor have I helped my mom make it when I was at my paternal home before my marriage. What i know about it is you need to be an expert at the mixture and consistency of the batter for these Achappams not to stick to the mould and to get the right crispiness. And i also know the making of Achappams need a lot of perseverence and patience, which i guess is a rarity with me and maybe thats why i never tried it.

So, this time when mom as usual sent us some crispy golden brown Achappams I thought of immortalising them with the help of my blog :-) I captured them digitally and put it up here so that i can have a look at them whenever i need :-)

Post script:

My Mom is an excellent cook. And my son thinks she is the bestest cook in this entire world. He says "There is noone in this world who can cook like my Ammamma". And I feel that is one of the greatest compliments she can get.

Can I ever Comprehend?

Who are you
Are you real
Do you exist
Are you just a figment of my imagination
Did I make you up in my mind
Is it just a wild dream
Are you an illusion or a Mirage
Are you an Angel or are you Devil's incarnation

Will I ever be able to fathom this mystery?

Manasvini

Today as usual has been an hectic day. Calls, mails, Teleconferences, meetings, learning requirements, ELTP substream numbers from various units and CEBC clarifications were making my head spin. And when my friend pinged me this evening during an official conversation saying , “ My daughter wants to talk to you” I didn’t realize what was in store for me.

As I was conjuring up in my mind how I can break ice with this little girl, to whom I haven’t spoken before, Manasvini ( guess she is 4 or 5 yrs old) started rattling off in her sweet childish blabber ( made a lot of sense of course) without giving me an opportunity to say a word. I was transported to another world in this vast expanse of our milky way enjoying every minute of hearing her voice.

Her voice was melodiously sweet, soothing, silky, comforting and her innocence was flowing through her conversation without her knowledge into my soul. Her voice sometimes moved from all these softness explained into a piercing high pitch especially when she realized I was not catching her point. At a few points she was gasping for breath but she did not miss out on the flow nor the thread of the conversation. If she completed one thread of a conversation, she did not have a problem, harping on to a next topic which had no relevance to the earlier one with such ease. For instance she was talking about her apartment and how big the campus is, and moved on with grace to the topic of losing her toy in a cab in Mumbai that she visited recently.

My stressed out mind without my knowledge moved from a slow easy smile to laughter and I found myself so much in peace with myself at the end of the conversation with this little girl.

Joy that children bring to our lives is immense. God touches all of us in different ways .. every day.. Today he touched me and showed me his presence through Manasvini.

Knight in Shining ( not so shining though) Armour

Every profession has its own occupational hazards. Mine is no exception.

Take for example my mornings. I keep thinking i have lot of time only to turn one of those powerranger characters by the time it is 8 am and I almost spin like a top and run / ride in the car or bike and rarely walk to get our bluish bulky office bus. Invariably I keep wondering " will I miss the bus today?"

Our profession also teaches us a lot of skills both at work and off work. I would like to focus on the skills that I learnt off-work. Ability to multi task in one of the primary skills - I learnt to cook, look at the clock, stare at Joe and yell at Denny all at the same.. and thats what multi tasking is all about. Crunching your time to fit in as many activities as possible into a short period of time is another. Like cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner in less than 40 minutes and also pscking them. Or brushing, bathing and clearing the bowels and the bladder related activities within 10 minutes. better still, closing the door, locking it and wearing a footwear in less than couple of seconds... Oh god, am I proud of myself?

Wise people call it mismanagement of time. anyway this is my routine and I have gotten used to it. I barely manage to have a bath and  wear pressed clothes ( thankfully for the neighbours and general public) and comb my hair before getting out of the house. I keep thinking if only i could run in my home clothes to pick my bus and the one hour i spend in bus could be used for mundane stuff like bathing et all.... forget it, thats very nasty !!! and there is No Make-up : absolutely nothing. Deoordarant sometimes. I have all the necessary stuff in my bag which I efficiently use within the confines of my dark cabin at office, once i reach there.

Most of the days, I manage to huff and puff and stand in the place where the bus temporily halts to pick me up. Few days I have the luxury of standing for a minute or so. Most of the days I run behind, chase the bus or stop it midway and get into it. I wish the driver does not change for some time. He is a nice chap. The place where I wait is also close to the public transport bus stand and 8 am is those terrific times when that place is overcrowded with people and vehicles and people share almost equal space in the place where I stand.

Now it was one of those days Joe dropped me at the regular point said the ritualistic bye and moved on. His mind is generally preoccupied in turning into a superman and completing his tasks within much lesser time than i took and leave for his work. Intuition, that day, kept telling me that I missed my bus, but my conscious mind would not agree and I was turning towards the direction in which the bus generally arrives. It must have been telepathy, I suddently looked in the opposite direction and found the " Knight in Shining Armour" just that in this case it was Joe in his home clothes. A sleeveless white T and a grey tracks. Surprised I kept looking at him, completely spell bound. Spell bound because he was looking smart number one. I didnt expect him number two. and yes there was one more reason.

He did say something that i didnt hear, but later realised that was about my bus leaving me. He took my laptop bag put it on his shoulder ( reason no 3 for my open jaws) and walked so fast in front me with those broad chests and i guess it is the sleeveless, I could also see his hand muscles. I had to cross the entire crowd in the bus stop who wait for MTC, Auto, share Auto and other IT company buses, some of whom are regulars at 8 am in the morning. I could feel all eyes of me ( no.. US)

So there was this Knight in shining armour walking in front of me carrying my laptop bag and I when went near my office bus I realised that my KISA had stopped the car in front of the bus and blocked it for me. Thankful, proud, happy, sweating, I just mumbled a thank you with a broad smile but that image of Joe coming and picking my bag and the sight of our Car in front of the huge bus in an successful attempt to stop its accelaration so that I could get in, is in front of my eyes.

One of the many moments that I was thankful for a wonderful husband. My kinght in Shining Armour :0)

Ammama

Let me begin my first post in this new year which is the last year in the first decade of this millenium about a person who actually belongs to the last millenium. My Ammama.

When I held her wrinkled hands today that was so soft unto touch, and kept holding it, very consciously without letting it go and realised she held my hand too with a lot of love, I traversed back in memory of the days when I held those strong, hard hands( I distinctly remember the hardness, she was a very hard working woman) and tagged around all of that house, parambu and the canal in her ancestral house in Kerala. I was a little girl then.

Today I am grown up, but when I held her hands I transformed into that innocent little girl and wished with all my heart that I was with her in that house in which i have spent numerous summer vacations and was smothered in love by my grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins. I remembered the taste of the curries that she makes so very painstakingly in the traditional utensils like the Chatti and after preparations places them on the Uri that hangs in the kitchen to save them from the menacing cats around. ( I have always had a dislike for cats probably inherited the dislike from my mother). I told Ammama about the Uri and Meen curry and she laughed shyly showing her toothless mouth.

Ammama is all of 92 years old and her age shows in the lines of her face, though the colour of her hair defies her age. It is still dark and there are only a few grey hair here and there. Infact, my mom has more grey hair than her. I guess I have almost as many grey hair as much as she has, but the number of grey hair that i have is not the topic of this conversation ( he he..) and even if there were any, Revlon Top Speed has hidden it so well... lets not digress.. back to Ammama..

So Ammama has come to a stage where she cannot live alone and hence she is shuttling between her children's houses in Kerala, Chennai and Bangalore. She is leaving to Bangalore this week and deep down I was feeling so sad that she is going away. She is an integral part of my childhood and among the few people who really mattered to me when I was in those rather juvenille years.

Achan was at home when we went to see Ammama and we were together remembering all those times of our times spent in Potta house. On the comment that Achan said about Appappan telling God, that he will go back to earth if his wife comes up, Ammama was ROTFL (finally i got to use this term.. ). Her body was shaking, her face had a wide grin, not much of noise, typical ammama laugh. She had spent most of her energies in cursing Appappan while he was alive and maybe thats why she was able to laugh when we discussed Appappan. She showed a clear yearning to go back and when i told her lets go back to that Potta house, you and me together, i saw her eyes glisten with hope and i didnt linger on that for long since i know its just false hope that i will be giving her.

When I told her that Joe keeps telling me that i would look like her when i grow old, she immediately retorted a little angrily that i will not look like her. I had a chance to tell Joe and Denny that they cannot take me for granted when my ammama was around. My mother was enjoying her grandmother moment when she figured out Denny had grown taller than her and Ammama very naively asked Denny you are just 13 years old? You look much older than that.. Den was secretly very happy about that. This was over and above happiness of being in his grandparents' house. Denny could not beleive that Ammama used to smoke Beedi's when I was young - he had that sweet mischeivous smile on his face when he repeatedly asked me if it was true.

I told Ammama that she looks good only with those Mekka Mothirams' she rebuked my uncle saying that he is not giving it to her and very confidently said that she knows that she does not look good without them. I cannot but agree with her, as I know she is the last person in my family who would wear a traditional ornament such as that.

And thus my Ammamma is still travelling in her journey of life to my uncle's house in Bangalore this time.

My maternal grandmother with Mekka Mothirams et all

I hope she will be happy and I hope she will be fine.

Terrorism

An year after terror was unleashed in Mumbai…
Its an year exactly after all those horrible things the terrorists did to the city of Mumbai, the Business capital of India. It did leave deep scars even in an very average Indian like me. The emotional and physical scars of those who endured the act is something beyond my comprehension. The loss of lives, the experience of coming close to death or even seeing death and violence in such close quarters will never leave those people’s minds.
I was watching some news channels and many of them were showcasing the memories of 26/11. It hit my conscience then. Surprisingly when I heard of the brave act of the announcer at Mumbai Chatrapathi Shivaji Station, my eyes moistened, I had goose flesh all over when I watched the much more technically trained black cats took out the parade on Mumbai streets, Wives of the police officers Vijay salsakar, Hemant Karkare were a picture of poise, though they must have found it hard to bear the loss, and finally there was Sandeep Unnikrishnan.
This youngster had touched a chord in me even last year – I have no pointed reasons. It could be because of the martyrdom he attained for the sake of people he never knew, may be because he resembled my brother, or could be because he hails from God’s own country. He was just like one of the youngsters I have come across in these ELTP programmes, had dreams and had a orkut profile. He had friends, relatives and cousins to whom he was so dear. Normal guy like many of us, but laid down his life in a brave act to save lives during the terrorist attack.
I still remember how I was disturbed to see the video shots of Sandeep’s mother caressing her only son’s lifeless body unaware of the world around her. How many times would that mother have caressed that boy when he was young? Did she ever think she will get to see something as gory as this? How can she ever, ever bear the death of her only child. What kind of dreams would she have had for this son of hers? Did she look forward to his wedding? Did she dream of his children playing around her house ? Did she wait to hear them call her ammama?
I don’t know Sandeep Unnikrishnan let alone his mother. But my heart went out for her. There were many many times I thought of her and said a little prayer to console that lady who probably has lost all her dreams.
I wonder if it is because I am a mother of a single child.
The commentary today about Sandeep’s parents spoke about they going to the spot where Sandeep Unnikrishnan died and the whole of last year they had spent visiting the places he had spent as part of his Army training’s and postings. They plan to spend the day at Taj at the very spot where Sandeep lost his life. They looked defeated.
As I watched the Jawans march by I wanted to stand up and salute. The least I did was to sit modestly on the chair as a mark of respect for all those who laid down their life.
May God grant the strength to all those who suffered due to the terrorist attacks last year. And May God also give wisdom to all those terrorists about the oneness of humanity and make them understand the value of peace in the short span of our human lives.

Sandeep Unnikrishnan's MOM !!!

Ever since i saw the visuals on TV of the slain black cat Soldier, Sandeep Unnikrishnan, this thought of writing a blog about his mother has been running in my mind.

In ordinary circumstances, what happens is that a thought about a blog flashes across my mind, and the urge to capture the thoughts will be so intense that i note it down sometimes in a plain word document or sometimes on to an outlook email and then transfer it to my blog. If the flash of thought is not intense enough it might just die a slow natural death in my mind, not to be back, ever..

But the train of thoughts about this topic, has haunted me so many times, that sometimes, this being a very senti topic, i wanted it to die naturally.. The terrorist attacks happened in the fag end of November 08, but the images of Sandeep Unnikrishnan's mom caressing the lifeless body of the dead solidier has just not gone away from my mind..

I dont know Sandeep, let alone his mother... except the fact he is a common Indian like a billion others who crowd this small place that we call our motherland and that there were so much of media coverage to the family even in their most private moments the entire world was glaring at them. Sandeep is no more a common Indian - he is a Martyr, having given up his life, very willingly as a brave youngster..

What touched me the most was the fact that this lady, mother of Sandeep, kept caressing the face.. oblivious to the fact that the media was watching, camera was on, there must have been scores of media people creating commotion to capture the image of her looking into the lifeless body of her son..What thoughts might have gone through her mind? How many times would she have touched this boy when he was young and growing? did she remember all those moments. Like all the mothers she must have powedered his face and combed his hair and kissed him all over countless number of times.

Did she dream of her son's next visit to her? Did she plan in her mind a thousand times about his future, his marriage, her daughter-in-law, her grandchildren? How could she bear the loss of lineage, her only son to the cruelity of some men, almost her son's age?

I keep wondering why that visual, or that mother touched me so much? why does that visual refuse to get out of my mind.. I have thought of this lady, whose identity is not known to me yet, ( other than the fact that she is Sandeep's mother) so many times in the past few months...

Is it because that i am a mother of a single child? am I comparing myself with her? Is it because that like me she has roots in Kerala, God's own country?

I am praying that the almighty gives her enough inner strength to sail through this life, knowing fully well that her single child will never return to console her in this lifetime....

I am with you in your grief.. though i know fully well it doesnt help.. but still...

Learn to LET GO !!!!

No single person, no single event, no single experience has the right to sit inside my head and continue to disturb the peace of my mind.

No single person, no single event, no single experience should ever be given such exalted status as to have the power over the peace of my mind.

For the sake of my inner peace, let go of anything, let go of anybody, who continue to rattle me from within the chambers of my own mind and heart. My mind and heart should be the seat of my peace and not the seat of someone or something that keeps disturbing me.

Nothing at the cost of my peace. Everything for the sake of my peace.

Learn to let go, not in the physical sense, but in an emotional sense.

Free your mind and heart of any disturbing elements. Let go whatever. Let go whoever. Put your peace above everything. People hurt you out of their ignorance and their immaturity. And, you allow yourself to be hurt out of your ignorance and your immaturity. We cannot control the ignorance and immaturity of the world. But we can do something about our side of the story. In a physical sense, people or event that hurts you happen once. But you rewind and replay the hurt a zillion times. The more you process it, the deeper it hurts.

If at all anything or anybody is wrong, let them continue to live outside of you. Don't give them a presence within your mind and heart. Let your mind and heart house only those who are a source of your peace. The rest, let them go…

In letting go of your hurt, you will be living in peace. A peaceful you is a beautiful you. The good news is, you can be beautiful. The very good news is, it is in your very hands.

Bubble

I realised i have been living inside a bubble..

The funniest part of this is all along i knew that i am living inside this volatile bubble, but i have been living in denial. Denial of the truth and living in an imaginary cosmos. Innumerable number of occasions i have debated with myself that the truth is far from what is being actually told. I refused to accept the obvious and took shelter in this bubble time and again, even when it caused immense pain.

I am just looking deep into this pieces of my bubble ( after the fact that it finally burst) and am coming to the realization ( or I did have this realization all along) that this only had caused heartaches that I went through in solitude in exchange to shallow happiness in life. I am even surprised how I have managed to accomplish (whatever little i have accomplished), so long with all this in the background.

Did I very naively believe that this bubble actually helped me move along in life? I think so...... Now I realize that I have ( always had) enough inner strength and sense to go on in life without these crutches, which I thought were life support. How easily can some of these insignificant and baseless beliefs become part of your very existence?

It is a great revelation that as time goes by, I am still where I started believing in the basics, whereas the environs outside my bubble have moved on in life as if nothing has happened... Am I stupid, silly, idiotic or don’t I simply understand these norms of this greater expanse of universe? Now I am left with bitterness knowing the truth fully well.

Is it because that I am sincere in each little thing that I take up? Is it because that I think within the box? Is it because my exposure is limited? Is it because I am sensitive to these little issues? Is it because I am constantly looking for that something in life, which I probably missed ? Is it because I do not have the maturity of the mind? Is it because I am not thinking beyond myself? Beyond my small defined circle?

What is it that makes me, this person that I am?

Status Change

so what is the problem now?

If it is just to ensure that i am being paid back in the same coin ( to insult / taunt / hurt and to make a fool of me) - you win hands down.

but remember my intentions are far from that.

Quarantine !!!

Where did my resolve go?
Why couldnt I stop myself?
Is there a reason for the choked throat?
Why did my eyes moisten?
Why did i melt away?
Why did I smile in glee?
Was there still a tinge of happiness?
Why did it happen on my birthday?
Is it Gods' way of testing me?
Did I fail the assessment?

If I told you...

If I told you the simple joys of life I have been through
Would you listen to me with that sparkle in your eye?

If I told you all the crazy things I have done,
Would you whisper my name that will make me feel young again?

If I told you all the sorrows of my heart,
Would you give me your shoulder to cry on?

If I told you all the fears gripping me at this time,
Would you comfort me with a warm hug which will make me feel safe?

If I told you all the abuses that I have been through
Would you listen to me without finding fault or judging me?

If I shared my pains and aches of my everyday life
Would you ease it with an understanding smile?

If I spoke out loud my innermost fears of uncertainity,
Would you tell me that I am safe with you forever?

If I shared my dreams, hopes and my childish desires
Would you listen without prejudice and help me find myself?

And If I shed a tear or two, while I spoke to you,
Would you value each drop and wipe it off with reassurance of Love?

If my heart skips a beat due to anxiety and restlessness,
Would you give me that look, that will pacify the core of my being?

And when I am down in the dumps, looking for a smile,
Would you give me that deep slow laugh, which can calm me down?

If I told you all about the ghosts in my mind and my unfounded fears
Would you wipe them out with your confidence in me?

If I told you how much I love you
Would you believe me without an iota of doubt?

If only I told you…..

Lines from a song (life?)

Arikil nee undayirunnenkill yennu njaaan
oru mathre verudhe orthu poyi..
oru mathre verudhe orthu poyi...