The Beauty of Forgiveness

Sorry; just doesn't seem to cut it,

When harsh words sting a lovely heart.

But peace is restored in season,

When in tears, courage begets;

Words that hope, words that restore.

And the guilty one is amazed,

At the strength of the wronged.

Thanking God for such a spirit,

As realization dawns on the son of man,

That this kind of beauty never fades,

As eternal, as the face of God.

By her Side

I woke up yesterday in bed, all alone.
Cold, though through the window, the sun shone.
For it's that season in a man's lifetime,
When he pines for a woman he could call 'Mine'.

Strolling in the park, through wind swept pathways,
I watch lovers in each others arms sway.
Arms entwined eyes in love holding,
A beautiful future, seemed to be unfolding.

But here I walk through time all alone.
A sigh in my heart continually borne.
Dreams and conceived memories keeping company,
A man who had seen lonely times too many.

Still I fuel my passions and hopes everyday,
Praying God that he hold me steady along the way
Hoping one day to dance with my beautiful bride,
And spend the rest of my days by her side.

Dream On

If you would only pause awhile,
Close your eyes and wander a mile.
If you could only let go,
Of all your dreams that you need to sow.
Then You will see y’days tears and todays bumps,
Are washed away in tomorrows triumphs.
And with a smile creased forever on your lips,
You have reached for the stars with your fingertips.

In the arms of a child

Somebody's Child, though I wish, she would have been mine.

She yields as she lets me lift her up and hold her close.

Resting her cherubic face on my comforting shoulders,

She whispers sweet nothings into my eager ears.

The days troubles and tiredness vanish away,

And all those around me seem to melt away in a blur.

She has me mesmerized with those wide untamed eyes

While we hand in hand criscross the room
She said her goodbye distracted, as I kissed her cheek,

And I was left wondering whether it was her in my arms

Or was I consoled in the arms of a Child.

My Reading Habits!

I love reading. Its something that I caught on to very early in my life. And I must say that I have read quite a bit. Its dissapointing though that television and other pursuits have eaten into this facet of my life and maybe yours too. I have been making a conscious decision though to dedicate a certain amount of my everyday life to this. Broadening the depth, content and subject of your reading, I have found most certainly adds value to your thinking, outlook and perspective to life. Its a relaxing past time like no other. I have listed below some of the books I have read in the past four years. You could perhaps have a go at some of them.

Humor me!

Nobody wants to look stupid. Everybody to some degree derive their sense of worth from the opinions, views & comments of people that speak about or into their lives. Growing up I have noticed that every group setting whether in school, college or communities like church, deteriorate at some point to become a setting for one-upmanship. I do not know how it is among women, but I assume this is not restricted to the men. I can recall countless times, I myself have pandered like a court jester to the popular taste of the crowd, even as I cut down like a ruthless gladiator, the spirit of the person in front of me. I was reading an article today that convicted me of my own short-comings in this area. Here is an excerpt-

"Innocent" jests that inflict minor wounds have become accepted practice in every setting, from sporting events to church socials. We're exposed to a culture of trash talking, one-upmanship, and a false masculinity reinforced by every macho stereotype in society. If someone gives a man a verbal jab, he has to come up with a better one. The man who isn't quick enough with his comeback skulks away as the loser while the "guys" pat the glib-tongued winner on the back.

The words that struck me the most was 'false masculinity'. The problem is not that everybody wants to be a 'hero', 'the man of the moment', 'the happening guy', 'the cool witty dude'. The problem is that everybody wants to be that, at the expense of others. I remember times in school, college when discussions, arguments, the group etc could be won over by the most glib talking, loud mouthed, invective-spitting, XXX-rated speech guy. It took a lot of gritting of my teeth and patience to not resort to the same. Did I look stupid? Yes! Was I the hapenning guy? No!. But I am happy that I didn't call people names, didn't destroy their spirit, didn't abuse them or their dear ones in jest. To this day I can't understand how some people could use abuses like 'ar^$h#l$' & 'MF' as a 'greeting'. The problem is even more apparent when the recepient seems to approve the usage directed at him.

Just today I came back from meeting a few friends and found that I had done the same. While I don't abuse, I found that I take my wittiness a little far sometimes. One-upmanship, especially in humor, where it puts down the other person is not humor. The challenge I must say, is to throw my hands up & say- 'You got Me' and not get into a war of witty words that have the ability of surreptitiously slipping into sexual innuendoes, abuses, back-biting and pushing the limits of one's moral code. Is it difficult? Yes! But not impossible. To tackle this deeply rooted problem, the article gives a funny twist to the classic style of the movie 'Mission Impossible' as we craft a mission for men:

"Good afternoon, Mr. Phelps. It seems that a wild beast is loose in the dark regions of your mouth. It has the ability to spew acidic venom, causing the rapid breakdown of harmony in your relationships. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, requires you to tame this tantrum-throwing, invective-spitting, complaint-mumbling tyrant—your tongue. As usual, once your tongue begins to speak consistently with grace and kindness, your mission will be complete. Good luck, Jim."

A word rashly spoken cannot be brought back by a chariot and four horses.—Chinese Proverb

The Animal in Us!

I was having coffee at the Cafe Coffee Day outlet on 100 feet road with Pradeep, a friend of mine. It was supposed to be a quiet evening in Bangalore for me after a busy 10 days of travel to Kolkota. Ten minutes into our conversation we hear a commotion outside. Two of the customers were beating a third one with his girlfriend alongside pleading that they be left alone. (I later learnt that the girlfriend had complained to her scrawny boyfriend that the two hefty guys at the next table were staring at her. The scrawny boyfriend had in a fit of madness demanded that they refrain from the same; maybe in a not so polite way). Anyways the scrawny boyfriend was getting thrashed by these well dressed goondas as passers-by and cafe coffee day executives tried to prevent further violence. One of the goondas got hold of a garbage lid as a weapon. The poor boy was bleeding profusely. I had by then also gone out to help sort this out. Just when we thought all had quietened down and I had returned to my chair, it erupted again. The two men threatened an auto driver with dire consequences if he spirited the couple away. Finally one clenched fist uppercut knocked the poor guy into a ditch. By then the two guys were also spent and the couple caught a auto quickly and made good their escape. Personally I thought that I could have done a lot more than I did to stop that violence. But the apathy of the elite educated crowd sitting in the cafe, coolly sipping coffee and watching the violence unfold in front of their eyes will always be etched in my mind as an uncaring numbness that paralyzes our knees when the time comes to stand up and aid a fellow human in need. But the lesson that stood out that day was the realization that there is an animal in us, that believes in violence than the power of dialogue, an animal that is lurking in the dark recesses of an uncharted mind; that has the capability to unleash mayhem and hurt on all those around in a selfish act of self-preservation. The evening had too much energy for me and I was in a contemplative mood on my way home. I felt secure in my space, with a book in my hand.

Crossroads

Every now & then, one is faced with a few major decisions to make in life, the outcome of which could take the protagonist down any one of multiple uncertain paths. My first showdown at the crossroads was when I had to decide if I would stay on in St.Stephens, Delhi, to pursue a B.Sc Physics (Hons) degree or come back to base at Chennai to pursue an engineering degree in a nondescript local college. I favoured the former about a decade back and here I am, having done my MBA consequently and working in a Software firm in Bangalore. It wasn't scary at that time 'coz I knew that I would be doing a MBA eventually. But it was a big decision nevertheless for a 16 year old to make. The crossroad dilemna is much more stark when one talks about relocation, marriage, career changes etc. A friend of mine has got all three of them now at one shot and its hard to imagine his thought process. It takes some gumption to take hold of the reins in one's life & steer one way or another. Iron clad conviction is rare I guess, but hope & determination more than make up for that. Sometimes the very act of making a decision at the crossroads can be a defining moment. I learnt at my crossroad to be responsible for my decisions, my actions and that went a long way in standing on my own legs & being independent. But somewhere down that path, some of us toy with the 'What Ifs'. John could ask himself- 'What if I had accepted that job offer?' Sharon could ask herself- 'What if she had said yes to Murphy for marriage'. I asked myself a question sometime back, when reflecting on the years of struggle after b-school. I asked myself- "What if I had accepted the job offers I had got on campus, instead of gambling it away". But then I realized that it just doesn't make sense. You can only weigh in wisdom the consequences of your decisions & go ahead. Sometimes they turn out great, sometimes just about fine & sometimes bad. You just live with that and probably at the next crossroad, the deal may be favorable to you or maybe someone UP there who loves you may light up your runway as you take off.

Stupidity

I have done my share of stupid things in my lifetime. Some I am sure I have pushed to some far corner of my brain, just so that I do not embarass myself as my brain does some TV sitcom kinda reruns at some idle moment. Some stupid things I have done, have been a result of me not being thorough and fortunately did have happy endings with some amusement & laughter to boot. Here are a list of the top 3 and they all have to do with travel.

3. Had booked a return bus ticket for Krishnan, Pradeep & me from Madurai (friend's wedding) to Bangalore for 10 PM on 27th Dec. We landed there on 27th Dec, finished with the wedding formalities by 2.30 PM and were on our way back to YMCA where we were put up. Krishnan (must have had a premonition) decides to check with the travel company on the way, on where to board the bus. We then find that the ticket issued is for Bangalore-Chennai. Given that the handwriting was gibberish, my failure to check on the fine print makes this stupid on my part. We ended up breaking our journey into 2 and taking buses with lesser comforts. It ranks no. 3 only because there were no return tickets available anyways to Bangalore and we would have had to do what we did finally. Krishnan's premonition though saved us time, headaches & money.

2. Krishnan, Pradeep & I are sitting at the Bangalore Cantonment Station for a weekend trip to chennai. I had booked the ticket supposedly for the 11 PM train or so. We were sitting on a bench and we notice a family running to catch a train which just came in. Pradeep remarks- 'Why can't people come early to catch a train they know is going to arrive at a certain time'. Krishnan & I add to that & we share a good laugh. Then Krishnan asks me the train number & we realize that the train in front of us is the train we are supposed to board. In the end we end up running & just about manage to catch the train. No harm done. But ranked no. 2 for failure to read simple english on a simple ticket.

1. I had booked an online rail ticket to Salem from Bangalore. The evening I was supposed to leave, I get my bag, lock my room and just when I am to board my auto to the station, see the ticket & realize that the departure time is 6 AM & not 6 PM. I end up travelling on a crowded bus, standing non-stop for 4 hrs to Salem. This ranks no. 1 purely for the discomfort I faced due to my stupidity.

I do want to thank God, that all these incidents ended well with little or no discomfort. Having chilled out friends who reflect your attitude of 'Okay. Shit happens. Now what?' also helps. I am hoping I have learnt my lesson from all these incidents though.

Sachin

This is not a poem exactly. Its my attempt at Rap. And I must say that it isn't all that bad. In fact I think that its got influences of Rap, Ballad & Poems in it. I wrote it for a friend of mine from B-School, in 2001 I think. His name is Sachin Mehta. Yep! That's him & his wife Ankita in the pic. He's 6ft 5 inches, tall, thin, handsome, smart & a typical Delhi Punj attitude. I have picked on instances in college like rushing to college, Sachin's election as class Rep, dancing at parties, his birthday party, his unique basketball playing style of standing under the basket etc. He's a nice simple guy and somebody who kinda looks out for the whole group. I had fun writing this one. Its light hearted. Don't think I will write another one like this again though.

You know brother, first day I saw him,
I couldn't touch his damn shin.
No short man, tall & lanky,
Was no relation to our man Shanky.
Come morning come, I go damn, damn, damn,
Our tall lanking man and me scram, scram, scram.
Clever little class, want no responsibility, ya
Made him CR- fine print on his forehead- oh yeah!
A fine leader, got many assignments postponed.
End of class- 'Announcements' you hear baritoned.
Lets shake some leg, atleast one, I say,
Never see a man shake them all that way.
This man bro', and I mean trust me on this one bro',
Can make that black sportin jordan crow.
Party time, B'day time, bake a cake, man, bake a cake.
Trust me bro', the cake, from his ass he did scrape.
So here ends his story, no ballad and no funky
Sure! You wish, he was gay & kinky.
But no ordinary man bro', this guy is going places.
Its left to you and me, the storytellers to pick his traces.
So next time bro', in harlem, when we meet.
Lets remember, this good ol' legend and drink him neat.

Ella!

Kids can say & do the darnest things with innocence carved on their faces. Sometimes they can drive you nuts. But more often than not, they warm your heart. Last Friday I had gone to help out at a fund rasing campaign for a choir group travelling to Shillong. Towards the end as I was saying my byes to people who were leaving. I saw little Ella, all of 6 yrs I think and a darling of a girl (I had first met her, her parents Ashwin, Samantha & her sister Petra by chance on her birthday about a month earlier). I asked her to come over, which to my surprise she did. I gave her a hug & she coyly looked at me thereafter. I launched into a fictional sob story about how no girl ever liked me and all and I told that she was the cutest thing I had seen in a long time and I really liked her. I said a few other things & I planted a goodbye kiss on her cheek as her parents were about to leave. She came out of my arms, while I was sitting there on the stairs, she looked me with such innocence & love in her eyes & planted a kiss on my cheek in turn. For the life of me I must say I was so touched by the gesture. What amazed me was that this girl at such an young age could be sensitive to other people and the willingness to reach out & express it with such unrestrained innocence was beautiful. At that moment I realized that she had made my day and realized what true beauty is. I said a prayer for her that night. That she will love and be loved every day for the rest of her life. For a related article click here.

Coming Home

Was inspired by a friend of mine to write this poem. She added a new term to my vocabulary the other day- 'Third Culture Kids' & with it a deep sense that everybody is trying to belong, trying to find his place in a lonely world. If you want to learn more about TCK's, please click here. This poem is dedicated to all those who are making their journey to that mystifying place called 'Home'.

It’s hard when I have to let go;
On this road of life, tears in my lonely eyes.
Saying my goodbyes in every new town,
And slipping through every tender embrace.

A part of me I have left in every corner.
In friendships long departed.
And my heart aches every moment,
When eyes evade and I just try to belong,

I am the dusk and I am the dawn.
Every colour of the rainbow.
I am the bridge between chasms;
In the division between souls.

Maybe some day I will find a way to rest,
Memories of those in silhouettes,
As I join hands with other teary eyes,
Seeing then I belong; on the way home.

Forces of Nature

Tell the tale O' wind that passed her by
Did she embrace you as you wrapped her in yours?
Don't scatter your memory of her into every drift
Gather them all and bring them to me
That I might know her as you have

Tell the tale o' fire that she glanced into
Do you remember the colour of her eyes?
Die not, but keep on burning
Let me reach her soul through your undying flames
That I might understand her as you have

Tell the tale O' rain that dripped on her skin
Did she quiver as you slipped into every crevice?
Don't lose her memory in a thousand.
Gather hers alone and rain again on me
That I might feel her touch as you have

Oh! That I can be them all- the wind, fire and rain,
That I might remember every essence of her
In an instant, as I close my eyes,
Let it be like her in my arms, before I am no more.

Beauty: A Discourse

The following article is an attempt at pondering on the concept of beauty, its evolution, the biological imperative and the implications of our perceptions. I have drawn heavily from a few research articles written by biologists, philosophers & sociologists and in no small part to my own musings on the subject. Due credit for the spark that ignited this article lies with a friend of mine whose insistence on not wearing make-up stands out in my mind as a wonderful gift of 'self-acceptance' a continum on which the majority still struggle at the lower ends.

What Is Beauty?: While I would be referring to both men & women, the emphasis in the text below would be on women. Lets start at the very basics. Who decided that fair skin is more beautiful than black? Who decided that breast size has anything to do with beauty. Who decided that a pout akin to Angelina Jolie is sexy? Why can't being small, freckle-faced, small breasted, over-weight woman be considered beautiful? Why can't short, thin, round-faced, dark, balding men be considered handsome. One half of the answer is that the concept of beauty is evolutionary over time & though it varies across cultures has a strong root in darwinian selection.

Evolutionary Theory of Beauty: Beauty initially conveyed a language more overtly than at present. Evolutionary scientists including Darwin himself have found that certain features and characteristics considered beautiful are actually indicators of developmental health and is fundamental to the evolutionary process of both humans and animals alike. Diverse observations carried out by evolutionary biologists over time have indicated a positive correlation between attractive physical traits and higher proportion of fertility and good health. Hence, beauty acts as a 'certification of biological quality' to propagate the gene more likely to succeed. One such 'attractive' physical attribute of women that positively correlates in to an indicator of child bearing ability and healthiness is relative waist to hip ratio. Men are observed to 'biologically' prefer women with a striking hour glass figure (a small waist to hip ratio) since these physical features of a woman are what is considered the most salient indicators of her ability to procreate.

Likewise, the heavy lower face that women favor in men is a visible record of the surge in androgens (testosterone and other male sex hormones) that turns small boys into 200-pound spear-throwers. An oversized jaw is biologically expensive, for the androgens required to produce it tend to compromise the immune system. But from a female's perspective, that should make jaw size all the more revealing. Evolutionists think of androgen-based features as "honest advertisements" of disease resistance. If a male can afford them without falling sick, the thinking goes, he must have a superior immune system in the first place. Almost every bodily charecteristic can thus be extended to convey a health & procreative ability that is translated into the sub-conscious realm that helps in propogating the dominant & successful genes and eliminating the bad genes. For example a high percentage of hair on a woman's body could be indicative of higher testosterone levels, leading to an hypothesis of lesser estrogen and lesser chance to procreate.

The 'Short-listing' theory: Why do companies & educational institutions conduct entrance examinations. It is a basis to short-list potential candidates when its not possible to meet personally with all of them. So it is the evolutionary scheme of things. It is not possible for you to invest time with a larger group & get to know everybody & then decide who to be friends with etc. So whether you like this about yourself or not you associate a face with qualities of character or personality like kindness, outgoing, happy, honest, angry, sad, aggressive and hence form a basis to be comfortable to take things forward. Of course its crude but it makes life simple.

Defining Beauty: One key to physical attractiveness is symmetry; humans, like other species, show a strong preference for individuals whose right and left sides are well matched. Denzel Washington's face, is almost completely symmetrical. Babies spend more time staring at pictures of symmetric individuals than they do at photos of asymmetric ones. Moreover, when several faces are averaged to create a composite thus covering up the asymmetries that any one individual may have, a panel of judges deemed the composite more attractive than the individual pictures. For more on this research Click here & here

A configuration close to the population mean is fundamental to attractiveness. So the stereotype that all women prefer tall men may not be necessarily true. They are likely to prefer men maybe a little taller than the average as a departure from the average could probably suggest an uncommon gene chareccteristic that is less likely to succeed than the average one which has already proved its worth. Of course there is a danger in over-generalization. For example, Chinese men used to prefer women with small feet. In some African tribal cultures, men like women who insert large discs in their lips.
Can we redefine society's definition of beauty: In one experiment, a group of babies were shown several slides of faces reliably rated by adults to be more or less attractive. The babies saw the faces of either Caucasian male or female adults, African-American adult females, or the faces of other infants. In each experiment, eight attractive and eight unattractive faces, matched closely for hair length, style, color, and facial expression, were chosen from a large group of faces. Pairs of these faces were projected side-by-side so that each image was about the size of a real face. The amount of time each infant looked at each face was then recorded. The results of all these studies were straightforward and unambiguous. Babies look longer at adult-judged attractive faces than at unattractive faces, regardless of whether the face is male or female, white or black, adult or infant. This study probably shows that the basic ideas of beauty across cultures are ingrained & are probably not shaped by contemporary culture like previously thought.
What about inner beauty?: In one study, 70% of college students deemed an instructor physically attractive when he acted in a friendly manner, while only 30% found him attractive when he was cold and distant. Indeed, when surveyed for attributes in selecting a mate, both males and females felt kindness and an exciting personality were more important in a mate than good looks. Thus charater & personality traits do add to the 'physical' attractiveness of a person. In my personal opinion, it is possible for one to decide to see the inner beauty in people. This happens out of sheer experience and the concepts of beauty ingrained from the media can be de-learnt and be replaced with this wisdom.
Behavioral Consequences: When a person is seen as attractive or unattractive, a whole set of assumptions are brought into play. Across cultures, what is beautiful is assumed to be good. Attractive people are assumed to be more extroverted, popular, and happy. There is truth in this — attractive people do tend to have these characteristics. However, this is probably due to self-fulfilling prophecy; from a young age attractive people receive more attention that helps them develop positive characteristics.

Even parents judge and treat their own children differently based on attractiveness (have you noticed that we gravitate towards those babies that are 'cute' and 'beautiful'?), although they are not aware of it. In a study of more than 150 Caucasian, Mexican American, and African American newborn infants and mothers, it was found that moms of attractive first-born infants were more attentive and affectionate than moms of less attractive first-borns. All the mothers denied that attractiveness should matter in parental treatment of children but their behavior belied their beliefs. Studies have also found out that more attractive people are more likely to succeed in finding acceptance, friendships, promotions in the workplace and in finding a mate than their less attractive peers.

Nature levels it out: So are we saying that if you are not attractive you lose out: A belief probably that leads many to go in for surgery or excessive use of cosmetics to alter appearences to stand a good chance in life and in the mating game. Symmetric men & women have been found more likely to be promiscous in their relationships. Whereas asymetric men, knowing their chances are less in finding an attractive mate, invest more time & effort into their relationships which is valued by women for a stable family environment to raise children in (have you noticed any good looking Hollywood comedians? Nature teaches us to adapt in many ways to find the acceptability we all need) . Women on the other hand opt for symmetric men early on but display no such preference in their later years.

Maybe that is where 'cliches' like 'Dumb Blondes' really crept in. Admitting to the danger of stereotyping now I could state that people who are less likely to find acceptability through their appearences are likely to try various other ways like smartness, knowledgeability, money, sense of humor, 'interesting personality', musical abilities etc to increase their chances of acceptability. While this may not be necessarily an overt reaction it is a natural adaptive reaction to survive in a competitive 'survival of the fittest' society.

Conclusion: Beauty is more than skin deep. It has a genetic and developmental basis which influences perceptions of beauty and human sexual behavior. It is for each person to be happy with his lot, thank his maker and participate in life's scheme of things (Frankly I am able to reconcile God & evolution in this argument). It is sad that many of us are not able to accept ourselves the way we are. No amount of cosmetics or plastic surgery can help us reach that level of self-acceptance. I personally think that there is nothing wrong in enhancing one's beauty using various accessories. But when it only acts as a crutch on which you can find 'self-acceptance' I see that as an issue.
Beauty as a concept wouldn't exist if there wasn't anybody to admire it. So Beauty, defining it, admiring it and being attracted towards it has some universal commonality and a cultural & individual bias which is good. What is wrong is to be solely governed by it. It is good to constantly endeavour to look beneath the skin in all relationships. Beauty draws a man & woman together and I see it as a necessity to propogate the human genome. The initial sexual attraction serves as the spark to motivate two people to pursue the path toward coming together. Without it, singling out one person for intimacy would be boring and lifeless. But the basic premise of that motivation is to make a man & woman know each other intimately at levels other than physical, so as to base their relationship on a true everlasting inner beauty. If not, a shaky union defeats the very purpose of evolution, which is to provide the best environment for your genetic code to be successful generation after generation. I leave you with William Wordsworth's words below that talks about true beauty, a beauty that lovers discover, a beauty beyond physical attractiveness that brought the lovers together in the first place. That kind of beauty discovered is what goes the distance.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats,

Whose veil is unremoved

Till heart with heart in concord beats,

And the lover is beloved

The Stranger in the Mirror

Did you see that little child?
In a corner, still, as everyone passes him by
Orphaned by time, abandoned to fate
If he stretches his shriveled hand
And his sunken eyes meet your hasty gaze
As you pass by, will you hopefully smile
Stranger you are, but stranger is kindness
To this poor soul, you are a saviour
When his bones turn to dust
And his breath returns to whence it came
Let his thoughts remain on that one kind act
And with a smile may that child let go
As you see yourself in a mirror
Seeing that it was probably you
And then you die a thousand deaths
Wondering, why didnt every stranger
Stop as you had and then you realize
Stranger you were, but Stranger is kindness.

Lessons in a Diaper Change

My cousin and his wife stay a stone's throw away from where I am put up. They have a wonderful baby son who at9 months is just another energetic, adventurous and curious kid. He's an absolute darling especially when he smiles, gurgles, does his own version of singing or dancing or just be cute which at his age I must admit comes pretty naturally. Anyways about 5 days ago had dropped by my cousins place just when they were on their way out and I agreed to baby-sit along with the maid. It was humbling to say the least. He wanted to be held, then he didn't want to be; you had to keep an eye on him all the time lest he put things that didnt belong in his mouth in there (He has a fancy for footwear). You had to be wary lest he fall, lest he hurt himself in some unique way. You have to decipher when he's hungry, what mood he's in and keep him occupied. The first time he kept still was when I took him out for a walk. He was just still listening to all the sounds around him. When I mashed a banana in my fingers and put it into his mouth, was the second time. Seeing such simple happiness in this little bundle of joy was fascinating. And then it happened. What can I say. When a baby's gotta go he's gotta go. He was standing, holding on to the chair and then with a rumble he let go. The stink was bad and so I called out for the maid. She was busy in the kitchen and I had to entertain my nephew in the meantime. We peeled off his clothes & went to the bathroom. In the bathroom, while I was holding him under his armpits, the maid peeled off his diaper and I almost gagged at the smell. I wanted to hand my dear nephew back to the maid & head off. But she wanted me to help her and as I held him over the comode she washed him off. We then took him to the bedroom and tried to get him a fresh pair of diapers and clothes. That took a long time as he was obviously used to strutting his stuff; but we got him in. By then I was exhausted mentally. This was just 2 hrs and I wanted to bow down & really thank ALL parents especially the mothers who go through this routine for a better part of their lives. So what did I learn- first its only when the shit hits the road that you can separate the men from the boys. Second love, marriage, family is not all that fanciful & romantic as in the movies. Most likely your life is going to be spent working, managing kids, grocery shopping, doing laundry, house cleaning, entertaining guests and preparing for the week. Third: Love can surmount all that. And thats when you reach for that baby with poop in his diaper and hold him near just so that he knows that just 'coz he's got shit in his pants does not mean he's not loved. In fact he's loved all the more, for his trust in his helplessness.

Its me!

So who am I really? Is there something about me that is really 'Me'; something unique? Am I product of happenstance, a series of accidental encounters with artists of destiny, each adding his touch to his vision of a masterpiece. Or am I like the floyd number goes- 'Another brick in the Wall'. As I keep delving into this, I realize that we are all probably just a hop-scotch of the caricatures of people, images & experiences that we have run into at various points of life. Its logical you see. Your facial charecteristics, your body, your skin color is just a mixture of your Mom & Dad's genetic signatures. You learnt your morals through your parents morals or God's inbuilt conscience. The way you talk, the language you speak, the words you choose were all learnt from your social circles. Your interests, your hobbies also is dependent on influences of youth. Your idea of romance, marriage, parenting etc is either ingrained from experiences of your own family or some warped sense of it from the countless hollywood movies or books being churned out. In other words we are all a pot pouri, a melange of scents accumulated over time each indistinguishable from the other. The individual scents were probably unique at some time, but when I cannot say. I saw a movie recently where the heroine suddenly makes some wierd nasal noises and contorts funnily . She answers her guy's incredulous look by saying that every now & then she tries to do something really unique & its satisfying knowing that she is probably the only one who ever did that. Funny! But meaningful in the sense that all of us like artists are trying to carve our niche out in this world, each promoting the brand 'me', discovering & reinventing. Me, I am resigned to the fact that life gives me an opportunity to be an expert perfumer to mix & match scents, some bad and some good and everywhere along the road I recreate magic by creating unique blends; a pot pourri, but nevertheless pleasant and soothing to everyone who passes me by.

At the lake with friends & some music for the Soul.

I happen to attend a Friday church youth gathering as a regular affair every week. More on that perhaps some other time. Last friday we wound up after dinner and discussions and were listening to some wonderful work on the guitar from Donald (blame it on the Mizo blood) and some amazing vocals from Donald & Rahul. At some point Rahul suggested we head off to the lake (I think its called Pelandur-near HSR layout). Now I must admit that it didnt look anywhere close to the picture on the right. In fact it seems during the day you can see the amount of pollution present. Anyways we parked the car on the deserted road alongside the lake. Construction Cranes at an apartment site far on the left gave an impression of an harbour and planes landing & taking off now & then on the far right created an aloof kind of feeling. And there we were for about an hour and a half, the guitar dancing to Donald's tunes, sweet lilting music into the night air; songs of yesteryears, food for the soul- Simon & Garfunkel, Scorpions, Pink Floyd, Seal, John Denver. The four of us staring into the lake, the moon lighting our faces. hmmmmmm! At some point I did wonder what I was doing here with 3 GUYS, but yeah! the place was not romantic in any sense. I guess it was just the music & the darkness, the moon and the lake and they all came together as we had. It was sad, but we had to leave by midnight and we did promise that we should do this often. But I did thank God for that wonderful time, for friends, for talents & for just plain good old happiness.

Loneliness

Here I am again & to post another one of my old poems. I don't like it much. You may not either as it reflects on negative emotions. Don't know what it is about me that makes me express my emotions a lot better poetically when I am sad or down. Must try to write a happy poem sometime. Till then read this one. I wrote this poem when I was going through some difficult times in my life and I felt all alone. The people around me hadn't changed, but my view of the world around me had and the loneliness of the journey was exhausting. But I also realized that there are certain journeys that will be trudged alone and the changes it produces in you if good would be worth the pain inflicted on you.

In times of mirth and plenty
When we basked in days sunny
I never found reason to question
Who stood by me in love true

Now autumns changed to endless summer
No water does the ground yield
To even a distressed sojourner
All hope is lost, for deafness abounds

I am in despair, I cry in space
Seasons, world, family, friends, every things changed
I stand still and time does not
Whats to become of me, the poet pondered

Then I turned and looked in darkness vast
Stepped, stumbled and trod on hungry ground
I faced the truth of ancient wisdom
That when all is lost, ones lone

Now I read your mind, the poet muses
Did not even strangers water these very lips?
Yes kindness I received, I do not deny
Nevertheless it’s not the body that despaireth, but the spirit.

Retribution

Its been a long time since I published anything on my blog. But I am glad I am back & I am going to do my best to be regular at this. I had been inspired to write this poem about 6 years ago after seeing a movie called 'Rosewood'. This is a true story based on a nearly forgotten incident which took place in January 1923, in the small Florida Town of Rosewood where a prosperous African-American Community lived a peaceful but tolerable existence with the Whites. That existing peace was shattered when a white woman, Fannie Taylor falsely and out of fear of her husbands wrath (she had had an affair with a white Man who had beaten her) says that a black Man had assaulted her. With that lie, began a week of lynchings, beatings, burnings and destruction of properties. The Town of Rosewood was totally destroyed. With men, women and children taking refuge in the swamp hiding from the lynch mobs, only a few brave people, both Black and White stood firm against the onslaught of the mob and rescued the women and children. The poem is dark, but if you are a firm believer in eventual justice, you will like the play of words...........

Black bodies hanging from trees
Swaying in the winds of hate.
Hooded horsemen, the white man,
Galloping into the dark of night.
The moon in shame hides
Colored children in fields lie
Their homes in pieces shredded
And parents hacked in deep memories
Men are chasing away their own kind
Chasing a shade, their dark shadow.
Why did you kill your brother, O White man?
Why do you still hate him so?
Can’t you hear his innocent blood?
Scream for reconciliation to the heavens above.
Return, ‘O’ White man, Return to me,
Says the ground, swept by sands of time.
Your evil dreams have perished with you
For white bodies are hanging from trees
Swaying in the winds of justice
And hooded avengers, the black angels
Gallop away in the sweet light of day.