Watch your words the heart is listening

Watch your words, the heart is listening
Hear the sounds ,the soul is grieving
Feel the longing, the eyes are brimming
Touch the heart, life is for living!

 How can one ever get over the sorrow?

The pain is still fresh, eyes well up and throat swells up choking the soul. He reasons that moving on is the only way but the intensity does not let up.
Her serene, gentle face is what he is searching for every where. The patient coaxing, soothing remedies, constant encouragement, persistent faith that he would finally overcome his timid, shy nature and excel in what he decided to do.
Third grade reading lessons, he was too scared to read in class, so she taught him to picture her face on the book and read out as if to her.
It worked and he was overjoyed with the teachers pat and the golden star that was pinned on his lapel for the week.
Overnight he seemed to bloom, his dedication coupled with her gentle prodding, he was over the moon.
His chechi, who protected him from his fierce Father, his cowering/ever sick mother, his four older brothers who lived in fear of the wrath Father unleashed when drunk.

She did all the house work, cooking, cleaning, washing up .He looked out for her when classes were over, she always stood there with a smile, a snack and  cool drink of water, picking up his school bags,  asking him about the day, wiping his face tenderly.

Then she was no more.

He did not understand what happened or why no one would talk about her.The family moved back to the old home in Kerala and he was sent off to a boarding school. Being the youngest and never close to his siblings he felt lost and bewildered. Taking to his books, he found solace in them as he would always picture her face smiling and urging him on.

Life went on, the nuns and priests at the school were kind as he was a quiet, introspective child.

He did well in studies, got a scholarship, applied for studies abroad as he had to get away from the depressing household, his large family meant nothing to him.

He was an adult now, well set in life.
Today, the anniversary of her vanishing from his life, he brooded anew.
Scrolling the face book friends list he recollected one name and face.
His sisters friend who always had a kind word for him and who had helped him during the traumatic days following her loss.
Thoughtfully he sent a gentle message ,introducing himself as she appeared to be online.

The coffee pot shrilled, he opened his eyes to see her reply.
Yes, she did remember him, and wanted to know how he was doing, where he was settled?
By a strange coincidence she was in a town about two hours drive from his apartment in Toledo, Ohio.

'Can I come over, today is--' he choked as he could not complete the sentence.
Yes, do come and join us for lunch, you can stay the weekend as the family will be over too'.
She invited him over.
Knowing this could be his only chance of finally finding the missing information that eluded him for
two decades, he was soon on his way, driving to her location.

She was just as he had pictured her to be.
The sight of her in a simple, elegant starched cotton saree, the string of jasmine flowers adorning her hair, the decorated walls of the elegant house, the smell of sandalwood and camphor reminded him of the days he had wandered around her large sprawling house which he often visited as a child with his  loving sister.
He sat at the large well decorated dining room as she served  Indian crepes (dosas) and filter coffee.
They talked about his achievements as Chief of HR in General Motors, she was a Professor at the University near by, teaching Science to Graduate students.
Her husband was Head of the Department in Physics and was on deputation to Japan.
Her son worked for Apple in Cuppertino, San Jose.
Her Daughter would be home soon, she was a veterinary Doctor and had her own Animal Clinic downtown.

Gently drawing him out, she probed the reason for his sorrow.
His point blank question had her sitting still as he explained why he just had to know what had transpired almost two decades ago to the day.
Quietly, she began talking, her only request was that he should not interrupt her as she talked.

His sister had been her best friend in class, they confided everything to each other.

Even when things at her household had soured, they held on. Her mother had a hysterectomy after the birth of the seventh child who was still born.
Oomana, his sister, stopped attending school as she had to take care of her siblings and her mother who was by then, very sick physically. The medicines she had been having to ease the pain and the trauma of losing the child and her womb, already in a weakened state after repeated childbirths,seemed to have affected her brain. She was mentally unstable and took to bed.

The misery started when her father turned to her since the mother was unable to satisfy his needs.

At fifteen, she was abused by him and bore him a son...the tears in her eyes confirmed what he had suspected but had not questioned.

She was his mother and sister too.

Life went on as she held the family together for another eight years.

Then her mother passed ,and he began his torture again.

This time she resisted him during his drunken bout but he had hit her head on the wall.Her dying declaration was that her son should be a ward of the state and not allowed to be in his fathers' care.

She, who had just started as a lawyer, stepped in and confirmed that he was sent to a boarding school, away from the family's reach.

His expenses were met from her share of the family property, the tharawad.

Silently each one re-lived the sacrifice of the loving, gentle soul they both grieved for on that day.

The sound of the car alerted them. 
Wiping her eyes, she mimed the Zip the Lip Act, even as her daughter breezed in with two puppies in tow, their tails wagging.

'Amma, look what I got you today'.
The slender, slim, long legged beauty took his breath away.

Quickly they were introduced ,the topic shifted and the weekend passed by in a blur.

They kept in touch and forged a relationship that two years later seemed strong and lasting.

He risked it all by quietly telling her the truth about himself.
Her dazzling smile and adoring eyes told him she had known it all along and that she loved him for overcoming it all,  the lonely childhood, the struggling years, the enduring capability.
They loved one another for who each one was and there were no skeletons in the cupboard now.

The wedding was a quiet affair and the couple flew to Kerala to see the land that was native to both the families.

Within the family temple, the lone statue seemed strangely content as they performed their prayers after almost twenty two years to appease the passing of a departed soul.
The sense of peace and longing lingered as they sat in the twilight each wondering and drinking in the view.

 THE END




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By the author...
" The still pond, the tall palms,
 the gentle swaying of lush greens, the sloping red tiles,
 the fragrance of sandalwood paste, the chimes of the bells,
 the chants of mantras as the village folk trickled in.
 The evening prayers after a days hard toil - a typical evening visit of Palakkad inhabitants
the flora and fauna surrounding the calm stillness, the thulasi tharai.
The eyes brim with memories of childhood days "


 I pen these words in recollection of my dearest friend OMANA.

"If wishes come true,then come back to us as our children will soon have a baby who we will name after you,my dear sister"
So saying, she finally broke down.
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Relax | Rewind | Recharge | : The floating leaf flowing down the river of Life

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leaves are not blue

Can you tell me why?

When the leaves turn color in the fall, there are no blue leaves. We have virtually every other color of the spectrum, but no blue. There are purple and maroon leaves, and these two color have a component of blue in them, so there is blue pigment in there somewhere. But leaves are never blue. We do have blue in nature, such as blue flowers, so there are blue pigments. I am aware that the colors come from the pigments Carotenoids and Anthocyanins. The purple comes from the anthocyanins. And that they are present year round, but masked by the chlorophyll (whose green also contains a component of blue, along with yellow) in summer. But I have been unable to determine why the color blue never appears by itself, as every other color does. In addition to the chemical reason, I am also curious if there might be some evolutionary reason causing the chemistry that results in every color but blue (or prevents blue). A friend of mine (a former park naturalist) who was the first to whom I had inquired about this hypothesized that blue pigment might filter out a wavelength that the chlorophyll needs. So it would be evolutionarily BAD to be blue, if you wanted to photosynthesize.
Perhaps yellow pigment would not do that, for some reason, but blue pigment would.

Source: http://scifun.chem.wisc.edu/CHEMWEEK/fallcolr/fallcolr.html
Energy capture and CO2 fixation occur in the chloroplasts of higher order plants – chlorophylls (chlorophyll-a and chlorophyll-b) are the most important pigments found in chloroplasts. Additional “accessory” pigments present in plants include carotenes such as B-carotene and xanthophylls.
The absorption spectra of the chlorophylls indicate two peaks of absorption in the visible region, one in the blue and one in red wavelengths, 450-495 and 620-750 nm, respectively. The relative absence of absorption in the green region clearly illustrates why these pigments give plants and much of the world a greenish color (i.e., green wavelengths are reflected and not absorbed by the chlorophylls). Leaves of a few varieties of trees such as copper beech and Crimson King Norway and Japanese maples are red or purple because of the presence of anthocyanin pigments that occur in the cell sap of the vacuole rather than in the chloroplasts. Anthocyanin pigment, with their intense absorption of solar radiation in the photosynthetically active blue wavelengths, protects the photosynthetic apparatus from oxidative damage.

Anthocyanin pigments, responsible for the pink, red, and purple colors are related to the carbohydrates and carbohydrate accumulation favors their formation. Anthocyanins and glycosides formed by reactions between various sugars and complex cyclic compounds called anthocyanidins – they are water soluble and usually occur in the cell sap of the vacuole. Anthocyanins usually are red in acid solution and may become purplish to blue as the pH is increased. The amount of anthocyanin pigments depends primarily on the possession of certain hereditary potentialities for their production, but environmental factors also have an influence. As chlorophyll synthesis stops, the chlorophyll already present begins to decompose chemically and the newly formed anthocyanins are unmasked. In those species that do not form anthocyanin pigments, the autumn breakdown of chlorophyll unmasks the relatively more stable yellow carotene and xanthophylls pigments; or there may be an admixture of red anthocyanin pigment with yellow carotene to give a bright orange color, as in some species of maple. In other species both chlorophyll and carotenoids disintegrate simultaneously and new carotenoids are synthesized. Thus, by disintegration of green pigments and the unmasking of yellow ones, the formation of red pigments, or all three, the leaves may assume various shades of yellow, orange, crimson, purple, or red.

Carotenes (cell membranes; chloroplasts): absorb blue-green and blue wavelengths; thus the light reflected appears yellow to our eyes.
Anthocyanins (not attached to cell membranes; cell sap): absorb blue, blue-green, and green wavelengths; thus the light reflected appears reddish to our eyes.
Chlorophylls (cell membranes; chloroplasts): absorb red and blue wavelengths; thus the light reflected appears green to our eyes.
Carotene & Chlorophyll: absorb red, blue-green, and blue wavelengths; thus the light reflected appears green to our eyes.

So, a very general answer to the title question may be the general theme associated with the major pigments found within native plant leaves: blue wavelength light is generally absorbed and not reflected. Hence, there are few true blue-colored summer or autumn leaves. Of course, there are exceptions.

 I am still on the look out for blue leaves.
If any one spots it , please let me know?

The floating leaf flowing down the river of Life

THE FLOATING LEAF

Like the leaf that floats because
one surface caresses the water
 the other the sun
One must always know
that if the child holds on
with the left hand
 with the right
 one must to let go ...

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                                             The floating leaf on the flowing river
   
He graduated magna cum laude.

The degree was the culmination of years of hard work,steady focus,dedication and struggle to find his bearings in a foreign land.The doctorate degree did not mean automatic financial freedom as jobs were not easy to come by.Immigration rules and a downturn in the economy meant the struggle had just begun.

The story began a few years ago.

The good news was that as a research scholar his fees had been waived and the Graduate Assistance and his scholarship paid him just enough to keep his head above water.He had no student loans.
By shared accommodation with some others he had adjusted his life so far.The small amount he squirreled away teaching undergraduate students was just enough to buy an used car and the down payment for the condo near the University.
He would continue his research work till he would hopefully be hired by the Automobile Industry.GM,Ford,Chrysler he had interviewed for them and now waited for the outcome.The sense of pride and joy his family felt when he was awarded the degree did ease the loneliness, he had not gone back to visit them since arriving here almost seven years back.

The heaviness of his heart was his inability to send home money to help his family conduct the marriage of his younger sister who assured him she was content working with a non profit group that helped abandoned children and women.
The message from his neighbor was terse, the potential groom wanted a car,money to pay off the farm land they had just added to the acreage.

Recollecting the weary look of his mother as she toiled alongside his father and sister to eke out a living from their small landholding back home,he knew what a life she would be heading to.
 The other option was convincing his parents to send her to college where she was keen on doing a degree in Computer Science.Knowing her passion for Math and Science he knew she would excel in her field.

Well,he recollected the notice back at the Student Center where a group of Biochemistry students were discussing heatedly.
 Snatches of conversation which made no sense at that time had him back tracking.So he could donate for research and make enough for a quick trip home.
 Being a man of action,he listed the pros and cons.He would meet his family and see them,using the month long summer break.After all the whole process was ethical and confidential,no one would know that he had donated his sperm for the research being conducted to study some new clinical trials.

Soon the forms were filled,the test tubes collected,blood tests done,donation accepted,payment made and tickets booked for his flight home.
Delighted to be going back he used his small stash to buy some essential items for his family and soon winged home.
  
 

  The happiness of his family was worth it,he decided as he watched the cows being milked,the fields watered,crops threshed..
Village life did not change ,his parents were older ,sister looked so mature and grown up.
 The harvest was good and they discussed family finances.
 Arguing on her behalf he stood his ground,got his parents permission to send her to the city to pursue higher studies
 .She was delighted and quick to fill in the forms online as the submission date was almost due.

The air seemed light suddenly,now that the decision was taken.Then came the bombshell.

His uncle walked in with a booming voice,'So we finalize the wedding,when?'

The details were soon filled in,the Minister representing their area was ready to offer a large dowry,waive off all the loan outstanding and even offer a house if he was ready to wed his daughter.The ego and prestige of having a foreign settled son in law with a doctorate was an added feather in his cap,the minister reasoned.
On the horns of a dilemma,Visva was silent,his sisters' call saved him from voicing his thoughts.
 She, a mature,loving ,understanding young woman reasoned with him,talked him into meeting the potential bride,explaining they needed to understand her thought process too.
She must be feeling hurt too, maybe they could find a way out without inviting the wrath of the local powers who held sway.

The meeting with Sri,his intended bride was poignant.
Cool,collected and confident,she was very careful to state that her views were not that of her parent who had his own reasons.Viswa was in two minds but the odds were stacked against the alliance.
They agreed it was not a good idea and she diplomatically decided to reason with her father.

Convincing him she was not ready ,she explained the injustice he was foisting on the family.

 The Minister understood the thought process of his only daughter as they bonded for the first time since the seven years of his wifes' passing.He released the farmlands that had been mortgaged and waived off the initial interest on the loan the family had taken to send him abroad(the interest had built up to a few lacs).

The good news continued.
His letter of immediate appointment at Chrysler to head their 2016 model was welcome news.
Life moved on,his dedication and sincerity soon had him as Chief of the Project.

Life again played a hand as  two years later, he was on the interview Board facing the girl who refused to be a pawn in her fathers ambition for political gain.
She joined as an intern and was a quick study.
Three years later they decided they understood each other and wed on their own terms.

Fate intervened again.
Work hazard due to constant exposure at the factory,had robbed his capacity to have children.
 Their acceptance of this shattering truth enhanced their already deep feelings.

A few days later he opened a letter form his college wondering what the cryogenics department wanted,maybe funds for research.
The information stunned him into hopeful silence.
Two samples of the five vials he had given seven years back for a clinical study was with them and they needed permission to destroy it.

Gathering his scattered wits,he explained the whole story to Sri who agreed that an in vitro fertilization would be their only hope.
Fate smiled on the couple and nine months to the day they were overjoyed to see their healthy baby boy who smiled and gurgled ,delighting all family members,the two sets of grandparents and his lovely aunt who was now an IT professional in the US with a Post graduate degree in IT.

The Doctor who had helped with the in vitro conception was present when the baby was brought home.Meeting a single Indian girl seemed like a godsend as with the limited time for social interaction he rarely chanced to meet any.Her open,sweet nature and involvement in a field so different from his own meant they would not clash over work,they soon developed a rapport leading to a lifelong commitment.

So little Aasman grew up happily with his loving parents and grandparents ,with uncle/aunt and his infant cousin sister Anya close by.

The family always discussed how fate had dealt them all a winning hand or maybe they had won with the cards they had been dealt with.

Patience,caring and understanding won the day.

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Facing the facts - finding roots - life is for the living

FINDING ROOTS

Sajivan was the youngest of four brothers and had a little sister Jyoti. The children lived in this small but select cove with their grandparents who raised sheep, goats, hens, ducks and cattle.They also tilled and farmed the small plot of land leading a quiet, secure life.
Jyoti was just too little, maybe a week old when his mother abandoned them with her parents and left for Bombay as the older children lived  with their father. The family in Bombay never reached out to them ever again.

The story starts here.

The elderly couple whose only daughter had run off with the senior Meteorological representative (who had been deputed to set up a rain water measuring instrument in the remote location) were worried and tense.
It had been a long decade since she had left them and they had no idea where she was or the kind of life she lead.
Then one night she was at the doorstep with a tiny boy and pregnant, almost due-In fact she collapsed and the little girl was born right before their eyes.Worn and exhausted the mother seemed semi conscious for almost a week, and then did the disappearing trick again - this time leaving behind her two babies.
Not a word about her life, family, future......she trusted them to do the right thing.

They were in their fifties - strong,capable and god fearing. 
Accepting that the good Lord knew best, they took the infants into their hearts and nurtured them.

Life teaches us lessons,they had hopefully learned theirs.
 
They were more tolerant now and loved the infants,cherished them,taught them every thing they knew.                                                                                                                                                                                    Village life in simple minimalistic surroundings meant hard work,knowing Nature,living

by the law of the land,foraging for food,living off the sea,being one with the Seasons.The village school was accessible by canoes to the mainland.The family sold the eggs,poultry,cattle produce like milk,cream,yoghurt,farm yields,fruits,berries,medicinal plants,roots,tubers  in the main land.The children schooled there,played,met others and enjoyed life.The temple was their main stay,they supplied flowers,fruits,sandal wood,camphor,incense sticks to the tourists who came in hordes during certain festivals.
Their life centered around the children who grew up strong ,well cared for,loving,obedient and self sufficient.
The task seemed colossal,the old man now in his early sixties  sometimes looked up the vast canopy of branches and sighed,but they enjoyed life and never  questioned the effort and love they cherished on the little ones.
The children went on to high school nearby and came home during the weekends.The grandparents now in their seventies
 needed looking after and were not able to fund the education.They jointly decided to pawn the gold and jewellery as well as a large tract of land to pay for the expenses,School days were done and college meant going off to the big city which they feared as they had lost their daughter there.

Fear overcame them and they had to explain why they were unwilling to let them go on to pursue their future dreams.
The family sat down and talked,The children understood for the first time that they were with their grandparents and wanted to connect with their parents.
Sajivan had topped the qualifying exams. He had just been admitted into an Ivy league University.His search to locate his family and siblings paid off when he traced them to a remote location in Kurla,Mumbai.
He set out  to go beyond the state boubdaries for the first time to seek his mother .The vague memory of her holding him and shielding his tiny body against the fierce downpour and the fact that she had entrusted his sister and his future to her parents was his only hope that she cared.
The train journey was long and tiring ,seeming endless.The 3 wheeler dropped him in a filthy locality,mostly dominated by barbers,fisher mongers, footwear vendors..the street was noisy,narrow,dirty and he had no idea where to search or whom he would ask for help.

The mosque seemed a safe place to start,he reasoned.
He quietly asked for the chief and informed his reason and who he was looking for.
Mohammed Salim, a Government employee who worked for the Meteorological Department at Colaba  was all he has to go by.He did not know if his mother was married to him or who his father was,so he said he was a relative from Kerala and inquiring on behalf of his relatives back home.The throng of devout Muslims who had gathered for the evening prayers discussed quietly as he stood watching.
Prayers over,the senior member of the assembly beckoned.
He was invited in and asked a lot of Questions.He answered honestly.
They informed him that a family who lived far off in a shabby hutment  along the Railway track, fit the description.

He was led away in the twilight.Not knowing what to expect,he stopped to buy some bananas,apples,a carton of milk.They would need it anyway whoever they were,he reasoned.

 

The area was littered with human excreta and animal waste.The tanning area where leather was made,meant the carcass lay rotting alongside.He longed for the clean,green,lush fields back home.Overcoming revulsion,he forged on till he saw the dilapidated hut.Quickly pullin out a few coind he handed it over to the street urchin who had led him here.
Should he call out?
Will she be there/what would she look like/how would she react/would she welcome him in or refuse to accepy..the thoughts made his head swim....

The smoke from a coal open stove was all he could see.The small form huddled over blowing the embers as she heated a dirty pan caught his attention.
'Amma' he called out gently..not wanting to scare the lonely ,scarred,pitiful lady who had somehow saved the life two of her children.
She turned to look at him and he knew without a doubt that she was the same loving mother who had decided that her parents would protect and nurture at least two of her children.
The same gentle eyes of his grandfather,the profile of his grandmother,her look conveyed that she knew he would come looking for her.

Come sit down and tell me everything,she said quietly in his mother tongue.
He embraced her and they wept.

The older siblings had all abandoned her.She was alone.
After her return all hell had broken.His father who already had three more wives had discarded her.
She somehow managed to feed and keep the family together but his brothers,used to abuse and ill treatment since birth knew no other way of life.She worked as a maid and fed them for as long as she could before one by one they walked off and now she was alone,staying on the street.

He gave her the fruits and milk,she seemed overwhelmed.
I have come to take you home, amma.
He drank the tea,they ate the fruits,he slept by her side in the dirty,worm infested hovel ,promising himself he would leave the next day.She was firm,she would not go back as she suffered from tuberculosis and malnutrition and did not deserve their love.
He patiently explained that God forgives everyone,She would be admitted to the Municipal ward,with the help of the Mosque clergy,receive treatment and they would return when she recovered.The story would be that she was widowed and the older siblings were in the Gulf countries as this was partly true ,at least about one of them.
He joined the IIT Campus at Vikhroli, where he had secured a merit scholarship with full fee waiver and a stipend.
His stay at the dormitory meant he could use the money he earned tutoring fellow students to pay for the treatment and medicine.The recovery was slow and at the end of four years,she was stronger both in health and spirit as she had taken a course in tailoring and now was adept in marking,sewing and tailoring  fabric.The bond between mother and son grew.

Four years later....
Sajivan had his engineering degree.They both boarded the Trivandrum Express from Kurla,the evening sun shone and the departing train faded  into the twilight on the way home to forge a complete family of grandparents,a prodigal daughter , and grandchildren.
Her heroic act had saved the two children from a life of abuse,poverty.
Her parents had been given a new lease of life.
Her children had grown up to be decent,upright citizens.
She smiled gently,the train swayed hooting its way home...

She could see the lovely green swaying fields,the canoe that would take her home.The family would welcome her with open arms.

She closed her eyes as the soul left her body,at last free of  worries, now  that her two youngest had found their way in Life.
They would remain Sajivan Menon and Jyoti Menon the children of Radhakrishnan Menon and Satya Menon who had brought them up,taught them to live and love.
She had made her peace with life.

SENSES ON ALERT

Jai Juhi Plant with White Fragrant Blooms

 Fragrant flowers, white blooms , heavenly fragrance, the jai juhi plant is one wonder of God. the flowers are so beautiful and pure white in colour. The rich blooms when sway with the evening winds blows a heavenly fragrance into our home from the terrace garden. The colourful roses, red, pink, orange, yellow, white, maroon along with white jai plants has become a fragrant corner of the garden.

Close up of Jai Flower

Jai Plant Loaded with White fragrant Blooms

 The jai plant has leaves that are dark green in colour and have kept it in a place that receives indirect sunlight. The jai plant looks like a plant decked with white ornaments. and the fragrance is heavenly. As the buds begin opening from early evening the fragrance is at its peak during late evenings and nights.

Heavenly Fragrance of jai Flowers

Even a small number of Jai Juhi flowers are enough to make the whole atmosphere of your home fragrant.Many people make garlands for offering in temples, hair decorations with these flowers and usually they are available in the market in bud form as they open gradually. The blooms when on the plant last for many days till they wither out unlike when they are plucked they remain for only a day. And the fragrance too is lost in a single day.But owning a Jai plant has its advantages as the blooms are opening in sequence and the plant has been loaded with flowers since past fortnight. enjoying the heavenly fragrance.
Tips and Care for Jai Plant- If you wish to pluck the flowers do so in the cool time. After the blooms have fallen it is better to dead head the plant to encourage new growth soon.Watering daily is essential when the jai plant is loaded with buds as the plant need high moisture during flowering times.Do not place the jai plant in full direct sunlight as the plant will lose moisture and also the blooms will dry out and burn. Usually I have seen flowering plants when kept in direct sunlight for many hours do not bloom well as all energy goes in producing more foliage, leaves,  to preserve the plant.

TEARS of Nature

A DEW DROP...
A dew drop?
A tear drop?
A drop of moisture -a tear of Nature...

She tells a story of water that has been evaporated from a clothesline,that dries off the skirt of a thirteen year old who had been forcefully abducted as she was walking home from school.
Her parents were farm laborers and did not even know of her plight..three men gang raped her and discarded her when they heard the siren of a police van-she was hurt,bleeding,scared and left for dead.

The lame, polio stricken boy, a social outcast as he was considered useless as a farm hand due to his affliction,dragged her to the lake.
Helped her bathe,washed her clothes,dressed her with it again and took her back to the hovel,a thatched dwelling ,that she knew as home.
.Ashamed to even tell her poverty stricken family and unwilling to add to their misery,she lay abjectly on the bundle of hay,wondering what life had in store for her.

A thought suddenly had her sitting up.
They will be back soon,weary,dirty, bone tired after 12 hours of hard work in the merciless sun.
She dragged herself to the dirt mud shaped kiln,fed some logs and started the fire to boil water for  gruel with a fistful of rice,some crushed pepper.basil and whatever she had collected on her way to school before the hurtful incident.
She recollected her mother soothing the neighbors ten year old who was with child and her pitiful wails as her frail body was too malnourished for child bearing.Fearing the same fate she vowed to tell her story and find out how to prevent that pitiful state so a repeat of what had happened today could be avoided.

Gathered around the small shed ,after washing away the days sweat and toil,her father proudly asked her to teach the family her lessons.She gamely retold the alphabets, numbers,the stories,colors ,names of plants and vegetables.Soon they retired for the day, her father and brother snoring loudly.

Her stomach hurt ,the torn and mangled privates also bled,she crept to her mother and in sobs told the story.Not a word in reply,her mother applied a paste of turmeric and mehendi leaves,made her drink a vile concoction that made her stomach heave ,she felt her whole body begin to shiver and shake and soon lost consciousness.

The warmth of sunlight soothed her body,she was spent and drained but felt cleansed.

Drinking the watery gruel,she felt tears well up when the family ,who had packed their meager belongings were ready to move on to the next village in hopes of employment.
Mother had somehow convinced them the need to relocate.

Recalling that her teacher was from the nearby town she directed the family there.
Soon they traced the family,spoke of the recommendation.The couple housed,fed,and gave them a place to sleep.The huge house had a worn look,was shabby and ill maintained,her father and brother soon started repairing the broken door,the stairs,the roof while she helped her mother sweep,dust,clean and spruce up the run down house.
The old couple seemed happy and asked them to stay on.The land was vast and fields stretched for acres on either side.The foreman was old and sick so unable to control the field hands who took advantage and neglected farm work.Stepping up to the task father soon streamlined the workforce,specified the work to be done,repaired the water supply sprinklers,fed the cattle,milked the cows,collected eggs, memded fences.
The family endeared themselves to the couple,who heaved a sigh of relief.

They stayed on,the only stipulation was the children had to attend school.
Scared and fearful she refused but her mother walked with her and waited all day outside weaving grass into lovely handbags and deftly making mats and spreads.
The teacher,impressed by her skills requested she teach them to the children.
Soon mother and daughter attended school together , trekking to and from the house to the small school building.The land around was soon put to use as her father and brother started building the walls.
 theAll children helped build the extension so they would not have to sit in the hot sun,the walls were of bamboo that helped keep the hot air out yet provided much needed ventilation and sunlight.Rainy season was no more a dread as they used bamboo thatches and coconut/ palm leaves to keep the water out.

Her brother set up a repair shop which was sorely needed,as cycles,watches,household gadgets all needed repair.
They soon belonged here,a respected family that worked so diligently and soon carved a niche for themselves in the society.

She graduated two years later and the elderly couple blessed her and gifted her the pavadi /dhavani set made of pure pattu.Hair adorned with beautiful fragrant jasmine,forehead smeared with chandanam and kumkumam,she looked so angelic and heart touchingly innocent and beautiful that there was a demand for her hand in marriage.
She was wise and with the support of her parents continued education,earned a degree in behavioral science and joined the college in town for her doctoral program.She now taught college students.

The topic she has chosen for her thesis was Rape-causes and consequences.
She vowed she would do all she could to prevent this incident from happening to other youngsters.

But first she would get over the fear,of course she had to go back to where it all happened.

Armed with a post graduation degree in social welfare,with a government grant that enabled her to staff housing in a decent locality and a car with a lady driver as guide,she arrived at the village the family had fled from almost fifteen years ago.Not much had changed,there were a few street lights,some more stores and tourist houses but it all was as she remembered.

The local temple seemed the meeting ground where the entire village visited at least once daily,she decided to seek blessings of the goddess who she had frantically called to save her on that fateful day.
Well she had been rescued.
In an effort to wipe out the past ,she realized she had all but forgotten him,or maybe she just felt too abject to face him as he had witnessed her ordeal.

He was there at the temple hands folded in prayer following the aarti.

She looked again and noticed he had only a slight gait,had filled out,was tall,handsome and dignified.

Turning around,he bent down and held out his hand to a little child of four.
They walked around the temple premises ,collected the offerings and walked out to the entrance where she stood.
 Recognition dawned as their eyes met.
She held the other hand of the sweet moppet and they walked out to the shade of the huge banyan tree where the child saw her friends and danced away to join them.

Anna,I want to thank you for saving me,she began.
Soon they talked about how they had embraced life and moved on.
He had struggled with school life,topped the exams,earned a deree in Mechanical Engineering.
Now he was employed by a multinational Company in a senior capacity.
The little girl was the daughter of his boss who was at the hospital as they were expecting their second baby,he was on his way to drop off the child after offering prayers for the family well being.

She filled him in on her family details.
They met that evening,walked down the same path and quietly re-lived the agonizing moments.
Surprisingly there was no shame or fear but a sense of quiet acceptance.Their lives had changed and they had moved on each a better person for having been through it .A look of understanding ,realization that they were meant for each other and a complete surrender to the miracle healing and working of the Almighty,they held hands and walked away to face their life together.

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MELTING MOMENTS

  Life lived to the fullest is a sense of satisfaction so when the time comes one can let go.

  The suns rays warmed her through the light cotton shawl draped over her frail shoulders.The fragrance of the herbs and bright colors of the flowers in her bower raised her spirits.Sipping her thin gruel she fell into reminiscing her childhood.

The only child of the Brahmin household she was raised in the lap of luxury, the family had but one regret,a male heir to continue the family tradition was unfulfilled.Her parents later reconciled to their fate and were happy that their healthy beautiful daughter showed promise. She was witty,quick,a happy spirit who danced and played with abandon.

Soon she was wed to a highly placed boy who had come to see brides,the rituals were hastily performed and before she knew it she was in USA.

          The days were long and the nights were short,she had to learn to cook,clean,wash,keep house,shop and do all housework as there were no maids and what else could she do.

Her partner was busy establishing himself in the new land and had little time or inclination to teach her to adapt herself in the new land.

Shy but diffident she soon decided to keep herself busy and following her heart and her skills learned back home took to making beautiful works of Art.

          Life went on and about six years later following her parents sudden passing she decided to come home.
The household looked forlorn and laid back,she set to work and soon put to right the household.

The field that once were full of greens waving with the breeze stood bare and the cattle and orchards were in ruin.

She now understood that her parents had lost the will to live as she had never come back.

Weighing her life and her priorities she made up her mind to stay on in her ancestral home and keep the property, running it and caring for the many people who were in their employ made her feel closer to her parents who loved the land and had willed it to her care.

      Heedless of the rumors and whisperings behind her back she put her efforts into restoring the home and fields.
Using her expertize acquired during her long stay overseas she soon worked out a solution to increase the yield and produce output per acre.Reading up on tissue culture she ordered 1000 banana saplings from floriculture center at  Trivandrum.

 The saplings arrived and she read up on the care and nurture of the many tiny baby plants--my babies-she decided she would care for them and poured all her maternal love and longings into their planting,fertilizing,watering,the initial period seemed wrought with tension and she spent long hours in the fields with her small group of loyal employees who had stood by her parents even when they were no longer involved in the land they loved.
Relating to their spirit she held meetings,discussions,heard out their opinions and they toiled tirelessly.
Sure enough, their devotion and sincerity were rewarded,the plant output and yield increased three fold.The income was enough to turn the tide and she next decided to try exotic orchids,fragrant flowers and even decorative plants.

  The revival was slow yet steady.All her love and longing went into methods of cultivation,she played soft music,talked to her plants,caressed them and told them of her barren existence,her love of live,the genealogy of her parents,they seemed to understand and thrived and bloomed.Soon the orders started pouring in and the word spread far and wide.

The Sharanya brand named after her parents Shar-adha and Anya-durai ,went from local to Pan India to International fame.

      Sixty years later,she still felt the joy and happiness and knew the family name will live on as every family that gets the flowers,fruits and plants from the now internationally famous house would be touched during happiness and even less happy moments would be lightened by the excellent blooms.

Her eyes closed gently and she floated freely into the nether world to join the spirit of her parents knowing they would be welcoming her with joy and pride.

She had ensured that the family name would live on.

THIRTEEN-------LIFE'S LUCKY CHARM

The best thing about a photograph is that it does not change even if the people in it do....
 

Rashida ,the youngest of thirteen in the family was born premature,unwanted,unloved,uncared and survived all odds.

Munisha ,the sixth of the family and a child herself decided she wanted some warmth in her cold,bleak existence.
 Abandoned the minute she was born and left to die,the 1.5 lb of flesh lay still covered in afterbirth.

  Through a coconut leaf frond partition,she watched as her mother heaved and writhed for a while ,then wiping down herself with a plastic bucket of well water,quietly went on with her chores,leaving behind a seven month pound of her flesh,on the concrete slab, for the vultures to swoop in on.....

       Must be a girl,she reasoned and felt her self weeping within.
She will die soon,the cold is bitter,she has not cried,cannot breathe,no one will even know or care.
At least tonight I will care for her,she decided.
Gingerly stepping towards her,she wrapped the tiny bundle in newspaper she had filched from school where a drive to collect the same was on.
The harsh sun had dried the baby's wrinkled skin but the warmth had made her open her mouth and she was breathing.The blue crisscross of tiny veins and perfectly formed body melted her heart,holding close to her own beating heart she carried the newborn into the railway tracks behind the hovel they inhabited.

Seeing the line of clothes hanging on the strings tied to dry second handed worn clothes bartered in for plastic tubs in the streets on Kurla ,she knew that it was safe ,no one would miss the faded,frayed,ripped saree.

      The Hindu temple gave milk every evening to the devotees after the evening aarti.

She had availed of it to feed her frail body, and that of the tiny life.
 Hiding her precious bundle in a bush,now wrapped in the pale blue saree,she slipped into the temple through a tear in the fence behind the watering hole.
The bells pealed and the girl child prayed with all her might,her only refrain.
Save my soul,my very own.The priest handed her a plastic glass half filled with a white watery fluid.Using her finger and a corner of the cotton saree she let the pale water drip into the tiny rosebud mouth which soon lapped it up.

Seven days later, she confided her fear to Anila,her only friend, confidant that her secret was safe.
She would not tell anyone as she was born a deaf mute.
Anila who wove baskets,cribs,mats,cups,with dexterity made a living hawking her wares that she wove late in the night.
Deciding they needed some place to hide the infant,they slipped her into a tiny basket lined with dry grass and the latest newspaper.Carrying their precious cargo the girls soon made the rounds hawking their wares.Selling the baskets in exchange for old clothes and unwanted junk,they filled the handcart.Lets turn home they decided.

  

'Hey you,shouted the widow from the house in the corner ,take this all'..she indicated a cardboard of toys,china,old linens and cutlery.
This is worth at least a few rupees was the thought that crossed her mind.Rummaging around the haggling started.

'You have nothing to give me-what about this?'she snatched the colorful basket and opened it up.Her eyes widened as she took in the little one.
'Why are you smothering the baby?She asked worried as the child was so still.

Expecting a torrent of abuse,they were quiet with downcast eyes.

Silence all around.The tiny one opened her perfect black exquisite eyes and looked at the lonely widow.

The moment was profound.She wanted a little baby to bring back warmth in her life,as her young husband had died in war.The insurance money was enough to live with and she could always use her sewing skills to tide over.The girls wanted the tiny life in safe hands as they could not carry on the charade any longer.

The exchange worked perfectly for them all.

Thus Rashida was renamed Radha and announced to the world as being born posthumously to the family.The war heroes parents felt their son had left a precious baby to bring sunshine into their life,the widow was accepted as the daughter of the house.
The baby was written about as the rebirth of an Army Officer .
The media hue and cry went on ,stories were written,interviews hailed when the silence was explained by over enthusiastic anchors with their own spin, you tube ,news channels,snippets,all talked of the miracle .

Money poured in. Munisha was hired to care for the baby.
She did odd jobs around the house,helped the widow with her small business,cared for the bubbly,lively,lovely,innocent child who brought sunshine into every life she touched.
She accompanied her widowed mother everyday to the Hindu Temple.  Vedic chants,classical music,dance enraptured her and she enrolled to partake of every thing life offered.They lovingly accepted the gift of life and moved on.

The Muslim family who were soon employed in the small business attaching sequins,buttons,lace,embroidery to the ethnic wear earned a decent living wage.The same mother who had  abandoned her baby now fed,clothed,played,carried her around and  loved her without knowing her origins.

Anila and Munisha hugged each other ,their silent prayers answered by Gods of both Faith.They occasionally spent some time with the kind widow,fondly hugging their secret happiness.

Such is the way of our Supreme Creator.

5 SepSUNSHINE AND A NEW DAY

     Bruised and swollen,she crawled aside,her soul intact.

The swift reaction by the village idiot,who had used his catapult with precise aim to knock down the lout who had captured her against her will was the only reason she was alive. She watched as he used  a large rock to break his knees, all the while muttering that this animal was unfit to live..Making their way to the small stream,silently washing away the blood and gore,their eyes met.He was no more an idiot than she was the village witch.They were both victims of a cruel ,carnal world that preyed on innocent children whose parents lived in penury.

A bullock cart filled with hay stood by the eatery where the farm hand had gone in to freshen up.Crawling into the soft depths,they hid within and soon felt the sway as the spindly wheels trundled over the uneven village paths,taking them away from the scene.

               Sunshine and a new day,far away from the village,they crawled out in the early morning even before the Sun sent out its pale glow.Following the cattle sounds they soon came upon the village temple where the watering hole was still empty.The lonely person who emerged from the inner sanctum looked them over and raised his eyebrows,Something about his quiet sad eyes touched a chord in her soul and she narrated the entire incident ,the horror,the rescue and called out to the trembling lad who had only known abuse and contempt all his life.
    The village elder listened without interrupting,asked them to bathe in the holy waters and rejoin him at the temple precincts.Directing them to an old house some distance away,he instructed them to introduce themselves ,they would be housed and boarded for some time.Thinking quickly she named herself and the lad after the village deity(having glimpsed the names at the entrance to the temple).So they were Perumal and Bhagavathi ,the old lady accepted them,gave them some fruit and water and left them alone.
    The air was musty and smoke drifted through.She quietly picked the broom and soon tidied the little place up while he chopped fire wood,cleaned out the roof that was littered.,watered the plants,drew well water.
They had the house all cleaned up,the lady smiled,this was the start of a beautiful relationship.Introducing them as siblings,children of of a distant cousin who were orphaned,the villagers accepted them into their fold.Soon,she started attending school, milked the cows,helped around the house while he ,using his skills as a carpenter made doors,wooden fittings,repaired the temple structure,attended school.They flourished and gained acceptance as the son and daughter of the village benefactor.The old lady had lost her only son but had openly accepted the two lonely siblings who had carved a niche for themselves in Life.

 She learned music and dance and he played the Tabla.
Life smiled on them all...

SILENT LIFE

The key to happiness is our ability to rewrite the journey of our life.

A  silent contemplation-If life balanced out and everyone had an equal share of joy and sorrow,she was due for a huge dose of Joy.The lovely morning sun lifted the fog and shone bright,enhancing the fall colors, lifting  her spirit.

Rewind...
Life does not come with a manual or instructions.Each of us has to navigate the swift currents,waterfalls,storms,as well as peaceful serene waters using our judgement.As a young graduate student ,she was awarded a fee waiver and Teaching Assistance due to her impressive scores.Moving away from the cramped home of her adoptive parents,she felt so free,relaxed and liberated.They had saved her from a life of sordid crime even as they toiled from dawn to dusk to eke out a living.Growing up with eight foster children the state had entrusted them with was tough ,she had learned early on to be defensive,look out,pick up,clean up and fend for herself.Books saved her,she would immerse herself in them all day and live in a world of make believe,always dreaming of one day becoming a famous person who could have everything she craved for.

She did well,earned her Masters ,accepted a teaching position ,moved into a modest little condo and was doing well .Till she met the black eyed,wheat skinned International student whose worried,shy fumbling stirred a maternal chord in her.He was in her class ,doing an undergraduate course,worried he would not cope and scared of being sent back to his homeland.His fumbling attempts to follow the subject ,waiting after class to ask her help,made her feel so touched and appreciated.Soon he was at her doorstep every weekend ,a quick study,he grasped facts well and devoted all his time and efforts in mastering the elaborate syllabus.Graduating top of the class,he visited her early that fateful weekend with freshly picked flowers from the campus gardens.He thrust the flowers forward,thanked her ,handed her a box of her favorite chocolates and turned to leave.

She called him back and asked him in.Of course she wanted to know what he would do now,where he would go ,how he would cope.Warmly embracing him her first successful student,they succumbed to hours of denial,unsaid words,longings...

He walked away without turning back.

Justin was born nine months later.Black eyed,curly haired,sturdy,he had his fathers' looks and color.

Life went on ,she was now a Professor with tenure.Her son had just graduated Magna cum laude from the same college.

She wiped off tears,as she looked at him lying in the Intensive Care Unit,barely breathing.

They said he had inherited a gene that caused degeneration of muscle and tissue and had but a few days to live.

Wiping off moisture,she was determined to locate her sons father.He had a right to know and at least hold his hand.

A quick search on the internet ,she located him.Sending him terse scripted information,she now waited for the outcome as she sat holding her only childs' hand,tenderly wiping his brow,her heart hammering.

She must have dozed off .The nurse handed her a consent form to perform a transfusion of blood and platelets and a bone marrow infusion.Knowing it was their last chance,she dashed off her consent.

Two days later,he slowly opened his eyes and blinked.The smile and look of awe elated her.She wept as they hugged.

The white gowned ,tall,slow moving figure walking towards them brought back memories.

The shy smile was sill the same as he held out his hand.She went into his embrace.

He was now a renowned specialist who had found the cure for the dreaded affliction and their son was safe.

They could not have had a life as too many obstacles stood in their way.

Faith,love and patience had won the day.She had upheld her part of their decision,while he had worked on finding the cure.

The family was united at last,as they all looked at each other and wondered at the miracle and mystery of Life.

The lovely morning sun lifted the fog and shone brightly on Falls Colors..

LIFE MOVES ON.