Sunday, September 15, 2013

Pookkalam

It is Onam in my Kerala today and seeing all of the Onam wishes on facebook , made we remember the colorful pookkalams that were once an integral part of my childhood.

A basket of tiny white Thumba,
A handful of red Chembarathi,
Yellow Jamanthis , Not to forget
A dash of Orange Jendu-mallis,

All plucked and placed 
On a green plantain leaf
Ready to be transformed
Into a bright pookkalam

Ten days , it seemed to all
That flowers bloomed
With a strength of purpose
In supreme pride and glory

To beautify homes
And unify families
Over the design and creation
Of a beautiful flower carpet

Time goes by , fading 
Those colors into memory
They appear again, albeit
As wishes on my Facebook wall.

Making flowers bloom once again
White Thumba , red Chembarathi,
Yellow Jamanthi and Orange Jendu-malli
In my mind's  ona pookkalam.


This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda





Colors - Haiku

Blue , green , yellow , red
Laughing in silver chatter
My rainbow bangles.

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Black pen, white paper
Green eyes on teal blue sky
A colorful poem.

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Red Sindoor , black Kohl
Maroon Mailanji, gold ring
An Indian Wedding

[http://i-survive.blogspot.com/2012/02/significane-of-sindoor.html]
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I know Blog Adda takes Indian time midnight for its WOW entries , but couldn't resist writing a bunch of colorful Haikus when I saw this week's topic.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Opposites - Haiku


Armed with this link http://hajku.herokuapp.com/, and inspired by BlogAdda to write about opposites , I tried my hand at writing Haiku. Here they are.

Reveal or conceal?
What the heart beat wants to say
Eye in dilemma.

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The cup of my life
Half empty or half full ?
Optimism answers.


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Rain drops drizzling down
Together , yet apart
With intertwined fates.

[Image Copyright :Eric Kamp]

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This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Thank You Again Blog Adda,
 

Sunday, August 4, 2013

The Lizard Incident - An anecdote on Friendship day


 "I don't know if you remember the card. But I haven't forgotten. I have it with me. All the best with your life."
These lines in my autograph book still trigger a memory of an incident that occurred when I was in class IX, referred to by our gang for years to come as the "Palli (Lizard)  incident." .That this incident was the first in a series of similar mid-adventures , is a topic for a different blog post , may be on another friendship day.  It was an afternoon full of boring lessons. There were six of us and a rubber lizard. Combining the rubber reptile with a surprise element , we had been trying to scare our classmates with varying degree of success. Then one of us had a brilliant idea. To try it on our Maths teacher who was a very friendly soul and liked all of us a lot. We decided on the last period of the day. As soon as she came in , we went to her desk with some questions regarding examination portions and as she was patiently explaining, out jumped the lizard , making her jump out of her skin.
The act went according to plan , but needless to say , we were at the receiving end of scoldings for better part of the next fifteen minutes. In some stupid fool's paradise, we had expected her to take it as a joke (!).

"I never expected such behavior from you, girls of all people."  She said with sadness in her voice and walked out.

We were upset that we had saddened our favorite teacher. We were scared that we'd be taken to the Principal or Vice Principal for disruptive behavior. We waited for her to come back and resume her lesson, but she did not return. None of us got much sleep that night with nightmarish images of getting expelled from school, on top of our thoughts. The next day, we decided to make a hand made card and place it on her desk. This was our way of telling her how sorry we were. With inputs from all , the card was designed , It had 6 :( in a row , each having some identifiable characteristic of one of the offenders and just one word inside it "SORRY". We placed it at her desk.



She never acknowledged that she got it , but we were were sure she had , because Math lessons from then on became the same as the ones in the "pre- Lizard Era". We were too scared to play any tricks in any class for the whole year and were so grateful that we worked extra hard in her classes to
become her best students.

Though I've had a lot of friends and fun in college and at various work places, when ever I think of friendship , my school life comes to mind first. ROFL and LOL were not invented back then , but anything and everything could make us laugh as if there was no tomorrow. Dedicating this post to my fellow conspirators in this incident, whom I haven't met or talked to for years now. When I look back , I can honestly say  " Those were the best days of my life. "

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda


Thank you BlogaAdda for choosing this as a WOW post. Made my day!.

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Tamarind Rice-d

Tamarind Rice , an emerging online e-zine has published my story "The Last Day"  . You can read the story and all of the super cool contributions from other authors here.



 
Happy and excited !
You can also read it here The Last Day

Monday, July 29, 2013

The Last Day

I walked with a brisk pace to my cubicle. I was already late and Today was the day I had chosen to present my new algorithm to my boss. In my hurry, I almost bumped into a couple of people on the stairs. What was up with everyone, trying to bump straight into me (?). I had no time for that. What with all the talk of mass layoffs and the big boss's knowing glances, I didn't want any more reason for them to take me out.

When I finally reached my cubicle, something made me stop on my tracks. My team lead Akshay was asking a facilities worker to take away all my belongings and put them in a box. All my nightmares since I overheard that conversation between my managers last week had suddenly come alive. This is what it felt like, being told to go. Being told that the place I frequented or even haunted if you count the number of midnights spent here, was no longer mine. I looked at him closely. There was more than a twinge of sadness on  Akshay's face. It must be the big boss, who's making him do it. Akshay always liked me.  Maybe, they sent me a mail this morning. I'd heard that’s how it was for a bunch of people in the customer care department when they got fired.

I decided to wait, to compose myself before meeting any of them- my (ex) team mates. Then I saw them all huddled together in the conference room. Not a single person had a smile on their face. It was obvious even from a distance that usually cheerful banter was completely absent. Reena and Shashank almost looked like they had been crying. I wondered if they were all being fired.

As soon as I saw Akshay get into the meeting room, I decided to go to my seat unseen, one last time, before they cleared it out. I looked at my cubicle with wistful eyes. “Good Bye, my Second Home“. My gaze shifted to my locked computer screen and realized that more than anything; I wanted to log in and see my layoff email. Maybe I should delete my personal stuff too before somebody realizes how many copyrighted Bollywood songs I have downloaded. I sat down on my chair and typed the password. Nothing happened. The ever familiar key board and mouse were refusing to do my bidding. I bent down and verified that the cables were connected. Then the unthinkable happened. The two facilities people walked right through me and picked up the chair I was sitting on, as if I didn't exist.

Then it hit me, precisely like the bus that hit my bike as I was rushing through peak traffic to reach the office. I was not solid anymore, only a meager spirit that lacked even the power of touch, which people walked right through, someone of no earthly consequence. As I was walking despondently away towards the exit door wondering what was ahead, I noticed my notepad on the floor. My algorithms ... my designs...my solutions. I wished there was some way I could save them from certain death at the jaws of the paper shredder.

It  was only inches from Vineeth's' cubicle. Vineeth, my best friend, who had worked with me on this project. I’d overheard the bosses talking last week that he'd be laid off in a week if he didn't present a working algorithm by then. He was absently walking back to his cube with some print outs, sense of direction obscured by the mist in his eyes. I wished, with all my might, that he would see my book. On perfect cue, a wind blew out of nowhere knocking down the print outs in his hand. As he bent down and examined my notes, I could almost see him smiling through his tears.

With one final glance back, I made my exit. It was my last day after all.