Awesome Bangalore weather

As I sit there warm inside
Gazing through the window wide
Drops roll down from cherub's pouches
Unwinding happiness from her lashes

The chitter chatter of the placid shower
Crafts every heart a rover
She dances to my rhythm
I sing to her romance

Through the window pane
My eyes capture the extent
Through the rain drops
I feel to my heart’s content

-Revathi

The voice within

How far in, do I come?

To hear you, O my voice

To tune to your hum

To heed to your whisper amidst the minds noise

How far in, do I come?

The yawning grotto was lit, I thought

I traveled...I reached not thee…you stilled mum

The cavernous chaotic thoughts fought

How far in, do I come?

Hiding behind, you nose into my hurried life

You bully me, the zillion things in my mind loom  

Can I ignore you? Footing on the edge of the knife

How far in, do I come?

Lend me a hand, aid me to comprehend

Cannot get so deep that I go beyond myself

How far in, do I come??

-Revathi

Trnnnn Trnnnn…

“Morning” I called as I walked past tapping my rommie still on bed. “Sun is on head” I continued as I headed to the kitchen.

After popping a couple of sugar cubes into the mug, I dug the trays to get out makings for tea, a pleasant combination of cardamom and ginger tea bags. A custom-made tea with tea-leaves, milk and sugar would be any day heaven than these off-the-rack tea bags. Hot tea flanking with a couple of cookies, diced apples, a cup of cereals and 10 soaked almonds with Monday magazine – could I only reverie now. I did have this luxury till a year back when my genie used to cosset me with servings on bed.

                               ---

“Mom, I am 27 and I understand what I am doing, don’t treat me a kid”. I tried reasoning with her, persuading her to see me off to the University of Rochester for a Post Grad. degree in Imaging. Nothing seemed to work. She needed to understand that I could take my own decisions now that I am a grown-up girl. “Yes dear, you are a big girl now. It’s time for you settle in life and focus on your family ladder.” – She retorted. Least I wished then was to get into wedlock. I had no lavishing bank balance to pay for my studies at New York too to catch up with my dream. I wanted my mother to liquidify her bank balance and use it on my education than on marriage. I resisted! There was friction. The only instant decision I could make to prove self-determining then was to move away from home and live independently. I walked out of home to live close to my office. The Paying Guest accommodation housed working women from different companies from a nearby Tech Park.

Life was on wheels, no stillness…Running with the world had become the mantra. A year had gone past my shoulder and I did manage to live a life away from my people which I had once found hard to even imagine.

                            ---

“Hey, You still on bed? Up and scuttle. Weekend is long gone. Catch you in the evening” – I saw my sleeping friend off. It was Aug 11th, indeed a day imperative in my life; the day I opened my eyes to this compelling world. I hardly remembered the date; neither was I interested in keeping track of each day of my life. Where do we have the tear-away calendars in a PG that typical SouthIndian homes preserve! Novels scattered over tiny shabby beds, mobile phone chargers hanging loose from the switch board, dresses helter-skelter, a TV cum showcase hosting pens, invitation cards, gifts from boyfriends, cinema/concert tickets is a scene typical of any PG accommodation. The only nice thing about this housing was it was close to my office. So close that I could walk down with my sleepy eyes…it doesn’t take me big roads to negotiate traffic, heavy vehicles’ horns to keep my ears open to. The time I realize I am out of PG, I would be in my seat.

                                   ---

“Where did you pick my name from? I say, delete the entry right now and don’t bother to disturb me on a Monday morning again”. I knew it dint sound polite. Far from it! I was but helpless. I work for an MNC with encumbered schedules and unplanned meetings all day. Agreed! The call from ICICI would have been purely a business call offering some value added service. But, it was not in my interest. Such calls had become more a nuisance of late. I was pondering if I could file a case on ICICI for a million rupees. That could atleast help chase my Rochester dream.

I headed back to prepare for the presentation I had in little time.

“There is little literature work on recognition algorithms in past 2 decades, Mr. Kim. The available open source is licensed under GPL and could only help us get hands dirty.” Trnnnn Trnnnn…– “Excuse me please!” I paused my presentation and headed to pick the call on my mobile. “Good morning ma’am. This is a call from ICICI….” I bluntly cut the call keeping myself composed amidst a managing team of 10 at the project proposal meeting. “That’s all I had from this presentation. To conclude, this technology survey serves as a gateway for timbre recognition to our novel researchers.” The presentation was well received and I sighed big thanking my weekend’s slog.

Back at desk I looked for my mobile service provider’s Customer Care number to wedge ICICI marketing calls. To add to my irksome mood the call to customer care dint get across. I moaned. I realized I was loud when my nosy cube-mate leaned over to me.

Mondays have never been mine. I guess I take effort to shape my mood bad. It is generally easy for anybody to get on my nerves and Mondays could mean a feast for such folks.

I firmed to get productive for the second half of the day, clear mails and sign off early from work. Trnnnn Trnnnn… “Good afternoon ma’am. This is a call from ICICI….” To be precise, it was 3:23 pm and I hadn’t made through half my work for the day. “I am not interested in any of the value added services you are offering me. Please stop reaching me” - I thought I should say this. So much courtesy should be extended to a fellow corporate working for a company like mine having his own targets. “One more call from you, I shall lodge a complaint with the police” – I heard myself saying. No calls thereafter. That made me comprehend, my only phone friends were the ICICI officials.

Day seemed to end much better than it began. Done with evening chores - I was getting to bed. The mobile phone called one last time for the day. The syrupy ring tone seemed screaming. With a laid-back attitude I picked the call. That was mom! “Happy Birthday sweety! Your absence is very loud, please get back home dear. Hope you liked your Birthday gift. And I hope the amount I transferred to your ICICI account will make up for your Post Grad. Studies you long wished. I requested a representative to convey this surprise gift to you. I give you your due, my dear.”

“A little patience can make life better!”

No Name

I wish I could go back in time when the biggest change round the corner was getting up at 5:30 am to keep on time to the bus. Life has pampered me more than it should have. I am a creature who finds comfort in the enduring phases of life though they might not be as fascinating to the rest. I don’t believe in skating all thro’ the year; I love to pause-by and enjoy every split second of this beautiful life. Simple pleasures like playing with a balloon, sipping a cup of tea sitting on the stairs outdoor, watching the color of a growing leaf turn deeper by days, a board of carom with grandpa, lazy evening walk with mamma, a cuddled sleep with my teddy and heaps more fill my kitty than a giant certificate.

This time around - deep within, there is a resistance for change, tats been the case with me always though - "fear of unknown" or "fear of stepping out of the comfort zone". I do not know! But then thats life all about...Changes come every few years. While some go unnoticed letting us adapt seamlessly, some need towers, tall enough for a seamless transition. After all mind is a petty one and I fully comprehend if it can’t figure the cargo.

The post would be incomplete if I don’t script this one from Jiddu K... He has bemused me many a times, all the same, has lit the path to inward journey... (Not sure which station I am in now:))...Each line of his gets me thinking. I seem to stop reading and start thinking –meaning I ideally haven’t taken off on my expedition yet :)

Here it goes:
"It seems to me that the real problem is the mind itself and not the problem which the mind has created and tries to solve. If the mind is petty, small, narrow, limited, however great and complex the problem may be, the mind approaches that problem in terms of its own pettiness...Though it has extraordinary capacities and is capable of invention, of subtle, cunning thought, the mind is still petty. It may be able to quote Marx, or the Gita, or some other religious book, but it is still a small mind, and a small mind confronted with a complex problem can only translate that problem in terms of itself, and therefore the problem, the misery increases. So the question is: Can the mind that is small, petty, be transformed into something which is not bound by its own limitations?"

Having said that, I know life s beautiful and am sure its gonna get better with time :)

A red rose

The pleasant mandolin ring tone passed strides through the air kissing others’ ears before reaching mine. I hurried to pick my mobile on the table. Never do I miss changing it to silent mode on entering office. But today nothing went as planned. I was late to work. Managed to barge in just a minute before 8, else would have costed me half a day's leave.

"How long have I been trying your land line...En late aachu? tiffin saaptiya?"(Translating: Why did it get late? Did you have your breakfast)
- That was the accustomed tone of my mother. "Yes ma, I had” - I mumbled. "What was there for breakfast? Did your friend come or did you have to have all alone?" - I wonder how ammas have so much patience. Never can I match her, not even at twice her age!
"inniki vazhila konjam late aaydthu ma...vandi problem..."(I got delayed. My vehicle broke down) I whispered. Surprisingly she dint ask me for minutiae. There was a ceremony at home which kept her busy, not letting her nudge for more details. Double-checking my phone's profile after putting it to silent mode, I got back to the decoding algorithm which I had left in a wrenched clumsy state the previous evening. Clocking some 9 and odd hours at office, I called it a day. Commuting to office on my scooty suited me better than the free cab facility. I enjoyed the ride. I wore a helmet while on state-maintained roads. And on other roads, I enjoyed the wind on my face and my hair strands dancing to the tune of the wind.

Early next day, around 7 in the dawn, as I neared my scooty I saw a fresh red rose wedged to its handle. Its sense and color gave me a breath of fresh air. Graciously scented, the rose bestowed the best start to my day. I had time left only to put on my head gear and kick start the vehicle. (I follow this honestly - first time in the day I never yoke the electric button cuddled and chilled over night.) I was more surprised than shocked by this incident and as the day heralded, thoughts of the color and the flower gradually faded.

 
The flower surprise recurred the following day. Surprise now turned into suspicion. The red rose did brighten my eyes but the retina reflected fear. Time not permitting I did not pause to look around.

A red rose continued to bedeck my scooty every morning. I cared not to share this with my mother for her stereotype mind would start roving into houses of my locality with deserving well-aged guys. I neither spoke to my friends about this because they will never let go a single chance to take best fun out. They have laughed enough on me and the state of affairs that have orbited me in the past. I did not wish to give them another prospect. They haven’t yet got over the guy by the coffee machine (yet another story, please follow the link if interested). I, for myself dint have time to spy for the rose girl/guy/angel in the morning hours. I had time only for the bare minimum things in the morning...On many days I would go to office with my hair knotted shabbily... “Software velaki poraya corporation office la vela pannariya?” (Translating: Do you work for a software company or for the metropolis?) - amma has whimpered many a times.

With days, suspicion turned into trepidation. I decided to take time and hide by my compound to seize the person behind the red rose. I succeeded! My eyes caught a little girl, a flower seller cautiously tucking a red rose between the handle and the body of my scooter. With no delay I ran to her. Yes, I knew this little flower girl. I recollected the face slapped red by the cruel autumn winds and the weary eyes. She greeted me “Akka, do you remember me? You thumped your vehicle on to the big tree by the roadside to save my flowers from toppling into the gutter. I was heading to deliver roses for a big order that day; if not for you, I would not have made up the last sum to pay my exam fees. I have nothing but these roses to show you my gratitude. I leave one on your vehicle every day.” The quivering hands that once looked pleading for flowers to be bought today looked composed. The shadowy eyes with quiet reveries looked confident today. I ran past a few pages of my life to stop by the episode when I had got late to work with my broken vehicle. Yes, it was an eventful day and I hadn’t realized it! I wished the best for her and thanked her for making my everyday beautiful with her unsullied unsurpassed red rose.

I kick-started my scooty, greeted the roadblock (hump) unusual to my true self (I normally groan), deserted the helmet enjoying every moment of the breezy ride. I knew the tune and sang along as it blew, to a rhythm of satisfaction with words of pride!

Layers of creative allegories

How could I miss this beautiful composition? I was long acquainted with this piece but overlooked the niceties in it. I have always been a great fan of “Godavari” which should have made a bigger hit than it really did make. 've been waiting to have a similar holiday as in this movie, a perfect blend of nature and divinity, both at their best. The lyrics are unsurpassed. I could understand the framework to a degree on first hearing but a closer understanding (Thanks to amma) sent a sense of excitement thro’ my spine that there could be no different heaven; Never better!

Rama chakkani Seethaki from the telugu movie Godhavari is poignant in my thoughts for the last few weeks. This one is a magical alchemy of the best lyrics and melody.

raama chakkani seetaki aracheta gorinta
inta chakkani chukkaki inkevaru mogudanta

udata veepuna velu vidichina pudami alludu raamude
edama chetanu Sivuni villunu ettina aa raamude
ettagalada seeta jadanu taali katte vaelalo

raama chakkani seetaki

erra jaabili cheyyi gilli raamudaedani adugutunte
choodalaedani pedavi cheppe cheppalaemani kanulu cheppe
nalla poosainadu devudu nallani raghuraamude

raama chakkani seetaki

chukkanadigaa dikkunadigaa chamma gillina choopunadigaa
neeru pongina kanulalona neeti teralae addu niliche
choopukomani manasu telipe manasu maatalu kaadhuga

raama chakkani seetaki arachetha gorinta
inta chakkani chukkaki inkevaru mogudanta
raama chakkani seetaki

The transliteration in English goes as below:(Map the colors to map the translation)

"Prettify Rama’s much-loved Seetha’s palm with mehendi (gorinta). Who else other than Rama could be this star’s companion?"

"Rama is the son by law to Earth (Seetha s the daughter of mother Earth) and he is the one who left his fingerprints on the body of the squirrel giving that tiny animal a divine stature. He hauled up Lord Shiva’s bow in one hand, the left hand. Can this brave man lift Seetha’ plaited hair to knot the mangalsutra(taali) during wedding ritual?"

"All going good, Rama is not to be seen anywhere. The rising moon, (articulated as) red moon asks for Rama, pinching Seetha’s hand. While Seetha’s lips signal that they haven’t see Him, her eyes utter that they can’t reply. Our black hued Rama has become the sanctified black beads(kari mani/ nallapusu) of divine Seetha Devi."

"I asked the stars, I questioned the directions, and I asked the tears that filled the eyes. The tears are themselves acting as barriers preventing them from running down the eyes. My heart is pushing me to express myself, but do I listen to my heart?"

What a masterpiece!!!!!!!!!!!

My heart raced for a brief second. I could almost envisage the twosome wedded in a divine knot.Our composer fast-forwards in time and visualizes complete Ramayana and comes back to get Rama married to Seetha. The episode of the squirrel comes during the edifice of the bridge to reach Lanka. Rama is the super hero. He is praised beyond words, but Seetha Devi is lauded beyond Rama. What a composition!!!

The lyricist(Veturi Sundara Ramamurthy) has brilliantly expressed Seetha’s wariness and her eloquent beauty. Seetha is being painted as an angel in human cloak.->(While Seetha’s lips signal that they haven’t see Him, her eyes utter that they can’t reply. )

The lyrics took me on a musical experience! So light on the ears, yet heavy on heart!
I have been lucky enough to have grown up reading and listening to tales from our epics. But this kind of lyrics never appears custom though they revolve around the same central theme. Layers of creative allegories mark this composition. Phrase it as divinely romantic or romantically divine. I am enjoying it every bit, more with each time I listen!

Revathi Sridharan

For the sake of blogging

The cold obverse has moved in making the days pleasant for the last week or so, unusual for this time of the year in Bangalore. Bangalore is very predictable on this front. Depression anywhere, even just on the newspaper – Bangalore is ready to embrace it...Probably that’s why people are happy breathing in here.

With my friends being kept at distance (no, don’t get me wrong, not intentionally!) my days have been just gulping along. Am not a very social kind, I respond to people and most times never initiate. Have been fortunate to have a couple (couple in every sense ;) ) of good friends who have untiringly pulled me out of my knot. They r just a call/ chat/ mail away but the distance is most felt when I need company to eat. I’ve never stopped commenting at people who come alone to the cafeteria, sit, eat and go. We have special names too “loser” “loner” – have shed all efforts to get the right lingo. Strange but true it’s a loner writing here.There were days when I have even skipped a meal or two just for the reason that I had to munch alone. Days have got me matured. Weird! I find myself enjoying my own company, sometimes the one on the other side of the call. As some explicitly tell apart, it is “solitude” not “loneliness”.

To quote the cliched,

The best way to prepare for life is to begin to live.

I seem to be taking pleasure in what once seemed boring, lacking luster!