A lyrical mashup story

We all have heard more than a million versions in various languages where songs of same or similar ragas are brought together and sang as in a one song. I was wondering if that can be done for the music then why not for the words? So this is my attempt in doing that.

Every single phrase/ sentence in here is from a different song but then when it is all combined i hope for it to read as one random story. 

So here it goes -

“I think you’ve put me under a spell
I think my heart is going to stop
A little bit more, a little bit more
Look how I get more and more impatient”

“Seen the sun setting on the beach in Mexico

But I could care less, 'cause I was all alone”

“No matter the distance

I want you to know

That deep down inside of me”

“You are more than (You are more than)

Something borin' (Somethin' borin')

Legs up and tongue out, Michael Jordan, uh (Uh)

Go explorin' (Woo, woo)

Somethin' foreign (Skrrt, skrrt)”

“And I'd climb every mountain

And swim every ocean

Just to be with you

And fix what I've broken”

“Dad always told me, "Don't you cry when you're down"

But mum, there's a tear every time that I blink

Oh I'm in pieces, it's tearing me up, but I know

A heart that's broke is a heart that's been loved”

“Press “like” on my photos like you do for her

Let me talk to you too I wish I could tell

I feel so down so finally I’m giving up today”

“If only you could hold me close

This time I think I'm bound to stay alone”

“If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer

Inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to”

Anda btw, can you guess them all?! I mean the songs? I know there is always Google if you want to make a playlist of these but if you still need answers then come back to my next blog post (but you all know me so that could be anytime between today and the next 5 years) 

MMT tales

Story 1 – Historical fiction
After 9 years I told him No. My sweet Richard will be devastated. I know the life with whimpering souls is tougher than his sweet ballads. I want to cry but… The choice is made. Will the world understand my kind of love ? The love for people that runs deeper in me than the love for one person?
The light always makes me think of him but I hope some day this light will define me as what I, Florence Nightingale chose to be and not what i left back.

Note : Florence Nightingale broke up with Milnes, a famous poet after 9 years of courtship to help soldiers during the Crimean war and came to be known as the lady with the lamp/light.




Story 2 – Folk tale
Ignotus is my life and I’m ‘death’. Mine is jealous, possessive love that grabs what it can. I create the deathly hallows to kill the other two Peverells so that Ignotus is just mine. They gladly take my gifts and begone. But Ignotus leaps over oblivion lightly. He whom I want to be invisible with me becomes invisible from me.
Today in his old age, I finally consume him. He turns cold, I am shocked and then his dead smile makes me think. How can I, death ever live life?

Note: The tale of three brothers by Beedle the Bard written in 15th century, mentioned in Harry Potter book series 7.

I will always love you

இன்று புதிதாய் கதை சொல்ல எந்த புத்தகமும் இல்லை என் பக்கத்தில். ‘தனிமை அழகுதான்’ என்ற தலைப்பில் பேசி கொண்டு இருந்தாள் ஒரு பேச்சாளர். தொலைகாட்சியில். ‘இந்தப் பெட்டியுடனே பல நாட்கள் ஓடி விட்டதே,’ என்ற யோசனையில் ஆழ்ந்தேன். ‘யோசிக்க எதுவும் மிச்சம் இல்லை … அந்த நிகழ்ச்சியையே பார்’ என்று என்னை திட்டியது என் மூளை. பாவம் அதுவும் எவ்வளவு நாள் தான் அரைத்த மாவையே திரும்ப திரும்ப அரைக்கும்? சப்தம் கூட்டினேன் என்ன தான் சொல்கிறான் என்று கேட்கலாம் என்று நினைத்த நொடியே வாசலிலிருந்து அழைப்பு மணி இசைத்தது. குயிலின் குரலாய் இருந்த மணி இன்று காகம் போல கறைந்தது. ‘அடுத்த செலவா? – பரவா இல்லை வீட்டை விட்டு வெளியே போக, மனிதர்களை பார்க்க ஒரு சந்தர்ப்பம். ம்ம்ம் மனிதர்கள் எவ்வளவு விதமாய் இருக்கிறார்கள்? – அன்று நீ தான் என் நண்பன், நீ தான் என் உலகம் என்று சொன்ன உயிர்கள் எல்லாம் இன்று எங்கே? வேலை, குடும்பம், மக்கள் என அவர் அவர் வாழ்கையை பார்த்து கொண்டு ஓடிக்கொண்டே இருக்கிறார்களே. நானோ இங்கு ஓடுவது போல பாசாங்கு செய்தாலும் மனதிற்கு ஒப்பவில்லையே. எனது ஓட்டம் எபோழுதோ நின்று விட்டதே.’ மனதின் பாரம் தெரிய ஆரம்பித்தது. நண்பர்களை பார்க்கும் பொழுது சிரிக்கிறேன், ‘வீட்டில் இருக்கும் வீட்டுக்காரன்’ என்று சொல்லி மற்றவர்களையும் சிரிக்க வைக்கிறேன். அனால் கடந்ததை நினைக்காமல் இருக்க இயலவில்லை. ‘எல்லாம் காதலுக்காக தான்’ என்று நினைக்கையில் மனதில் ஒரு பெருமை துளிர் விடுகிறது. ஆனால் பின்பு வாழும்….. ‘இல்லை இல்லை நான் எங்கே வாழ்கிறேன்? நான் உயிரை மட்டும் வைத்து கொண்டு இருக்கும் உடலாய் தானே இருக்கிறேன்’. நாட்கள் மட்டும் பறந்து செல்கின்றது. ஆம் அது தான் நிஜம். இந்த பல ஆயிரம் நாட்கள் வெறுமை,சலிப்பு, சிறு சிறு சந்தோஷங்களுக்காக செய்த பல நூறு தவறுகள்-இதை எல்லாம் வெடித்து குமுறி அழ நினைத்தால் என் அகங்காரம் தடுக்கிறது. ஒரு ஆண் அழவே கூடாது என்று சொன்னது கண்டிப்பாக ஒரு பெண்ணாகத்தான் இருக்க வேண்டும். அனைத்தையும் அழுது சொல்லிவிட்டு தண்ணியில் விழுந்த பஞ்சடைத்த பை போல இருக்கும் நெஞ்சை கதிர் நிலவில் வெடித்து பறக்கும் இலவம்பஞ்சு போல மாற்றிக்கொள்ளும் அந்த பாக்கியம் ஒரு ஆணுக்கு கிடைக்கவே கூடாது என்ற கீழ்த்தனமான எண்ணத்தில் தான் அப்படி சொல்லி இருக்க வேண்டும்.

‘வாயில் மணி அடித்தது அல்லவே? மறந்தே விட்டேன்.’ நிமிர்ந்தது பார்த்தேன். அவள் நின்றாள். ‘இன்றைய நாள் தான் என்ன? இன்று அவள் வருவாள் என்று சொன்னாளோ? கடைசியாக எப்பொழுது பேசினோம்? ஒரு மாதம் முன் இருக்குமோ?’ அவள் முகத்தை பார்த்தேன், வயது தெரிகிறது. ‘இவளையா உலக அழகி என்று ஊரு கேக்க சொல்லி கை பிடித்தேன்? இந்த உடுப்பு… இது தான்… இதைப் பார்த்து தானே நான் விழுந்தேன். ஒரு காலத்தில் இது தான் எங்கள் அடையாளமாய் இருந்தது. இதை காதலிப்பதனால் தான் அன்று சேர்ந்தோம் இன்று இப்படியும் இருக்கின்றோம்.’

பதினைந்து வருடங்களுக்கு முன் பார்த்தவுடன் காதல் என்ற படு ஆழமான குழியில் விழுந்தேன். ஒன்றாக சிரித்தோம், ஒன்றாக அழுதோம், ஒன்றாக பெயர் அறிய ஏதேதோ ஊர்களில் குடி புகுந்தோம், ஒன்றாக நாட்டை காத்தோம் பிறகு ஒன்றாகவே ஆனோம். ஒரு ஏளனமான சிரிப்பு என் உதடுகளில் எட்டி பார்த்தது. ‘காதல் – எவ்வளவு கொடுமையான விஷம் அது? என்னை எவ்வளவு மாற்றியது இந்த விஷம். நான் வீட்டை பார்த்துக் கொள்கிறேன் நீ நாட்டை பார்த்துக்கொள் என்று இந்த விஷம் தானே என்னை அன்று சொல்ல வைத்தது? என்னை விட பெரியவள் என்பதால் என்னை ஆளலாம் என்று எண்ணி விட்டாள் போலும். “இல்லை அது தவறு நம் சமூக விழுமியங்களுக்கு புறம்பானது” என்று சொல்ல வேண்டியவள் -”are you sure??” என்று பத்து முறை கேட்டுவிட்டு கிளம்பிப் போனாள். அந்த நாள் … ஐந்து வருடங்களுக்கு முன் … பாசத்துடன் அவளை நான் அனுப்பி வைத்தேன் – இல்லை நான் அனுப்பி வைக்கவில்லை அதுவும் விஷத்தின் செயல் தான்.’

‘தெரிந்தவர்கள் எல்லோரும் குழந்தைகள் பெற்று அமெரிக்காவிற்கு ஏற்றுமதி செய்து கொண்டிருக்கையில் நான் இங்கே மழலை சொல் கேளாமல் பிணம் ஆகும் நாளை நோக்கி கொண்டு இருக்கிறேன். ஒரு பெண் அவள் – என் ஆண்மையின் கர்வத்தை புசித்து, நான் வாழ வேண்டிய வாழ்கையை வாழ்ந்து, என் முன்னே பெருமையுடன் நிற்கிறாள். இவளையா நான் காதலித்தேன் என்று எண்ணுகையில் அடிமனதிலிருந்து வெளி வர துடிக்கும் சுட்டெரிக்கும் நெருப்பு என் உச்சந்தலையில் ஏறுகிறது. “பளார் என்று அறைந்து விடட்டா – கொஞ்சம் ஆறுதலாகவாவது இருக்கும்,” என்று என் இதயத்தை கேட்கிறது என் கைகள்.’

சோபாவில் இருந்து எழுந்தேன் கை பிடி விலகி தடுமாறினேன், ‘பத்து வருடங்களாய் துணைவியாக இருக்கும் என் கைபிடிக்கே என்னை புரியவில்லை, என்னை கட்டியபின்னும் என்னிடம் இருந்து விலகியே இருந்தவளுக்கு என் வலி எப்படி புரியும்?’ அவளை நோக்கி நடந்தேன்.

அவளின் கண்களில் கங்கை கசிவது போல தெரிந்தது. ‘நான் அவளை கட்டி தழுவ வேண்டும் என்று பாசாங்கு செய்கிறாளோ? இவளால் நான் தொலைத்தது எத்தனையோ. இதில் இவளுக்கு அரவணைப்பும், சிரிப்பும், முத்தமும் தானா குறைச்சல்.’ என் மேலே படாமல் என்னை தாண்டி ஒரு நடை பிணம் போல படுக்கையறையை நோக்கி நடந்தாள். ‘ஓ… இந்த வீட்டில் படுக்கையறை எங்கே சமையலறை எங்கே என்று எல்லாம் இந்த அம்மணிக்கு ஞாபகம் இருக்கிறதா? பரவாயில்லையே.’ கதவு படார் என்று மூடிக்கொண்டது. என் தலை மீது நறுக்கென்று கொட்டியது போல இருந்தது அந்த சத்தம். வீடு மீண்டும் பட்டிமன்ற ஒலியால் நிறைந்தது.

பைத்தியம் பிடிப்பது போல் ஆக்கும் அந்த ஒலி என் மூளையை கொஞ்சம் கொஞ்சமாக தின்ன தொடங்கியது. ‘அவள் என் முன் நின்ற அந்த ஐந்து நிமிடங்கள் என் ஆழ் மனதை கிளறிவிட்ட அந்த சொல்லத் தெரியாத இசை எங்கே போனது?’ சட்டென்று உண்மை உரைத்தது. என் விஷம் கலந்த நினைவுகளால் நானே கட்டி வைத்த அந்த மாய வலை கிழிய தொடங்கியது.

‘அய்யோ என்ன செய்து விட்டேன்? என்ன செய்ய வேண்டுமோ அதை செய்யாமல் விட்டு விட்டேனே..எனக்கு வாழ்கையின் நுணுக்கங்களையும் அர்த்தத்தையும் கற்று கொடுத்த அந்தக் காதலை நான் விஷம் என்று நினைத்தேனா?’ என் மூளை, ‘போதும் யோசிக்காதே!! செய்யவேண்டியதை உடனே செய். சொல்ல வேண்டியதை காலம் நேரம் கடந்து போகும் முன்பே சொல்’, என்று கதறியது. படுக்கை அரை கதவுக்கு பக்கத்தில் போய் நின்றேன்.

‘அழகான பெண், குத்துவிளக்கு போல் உடல், சிங்கத்தை போல கர்ஜிக்கும் குரல், எதையும் முன் நின்று செய்யும் தைரியம் – இதைக் கண்டு தானே விழுந்தேன். அன்று இனித்தவை இன்று கசக்குகிறதோ எனக்கு? மதுரை கடவுளிடம் காளமேக புலவர் வேண்டிய பதினாறில் பதினைந்து பெற்றவள்… அதன் பொருளை எனக்கு காட்டியவள் என் தேவதை. அவள் சிரிப்பை பார்த்து கண் இமைக்கவும் மறந்து போன நிமிடங்கள். அவளின் குரலை கேட்க ஏங்கி ஒவ்வொரு வாரமும் நான் செய்த தவம். பல சமயம் என் தாயாய், சில சமயம் என் குழந்தையாய் – அவள் காட்டும் பாசம், அவள் குறும்புகள் கலந்த விளையாட்டு, எப்படி மறந்தேன்? நான் தானே அவளை போய் நாட்டை பார் என்று அடம் பிடித்து அனுப்பி வைத்தேன்? வேலை இருக்கிறது அடுத்த வாரம் பேச முடியாது ஒரே ஒரு முறை புரிந்துகொள் என்று அவள் அன்று கெஞ்சிய போது குரூர வார்த்தைகளால் அவளை ஏசி தொலைபேசியை உடைத்தவனும் நான் தானே. பின்பு அவளிடம் பேசாமல் பல மாதம் அவளை கொன்றதும் நான் தான் அல்லவா? சில சுகங்களுக்காக அவளை விலக செய்தேன். எல்லாம் தெரிந்து கொண்டு நண்பன் வழியே பேச வேண்டும் என்று தூது அனுப்பினாள். நான் அவளால் தான் எல்லாம் என்று குறை சொல்லி முடிக்கும் வரை மெளனமாக கேட்டுவிட்டு “I will always love you” என்று சொல்லி விட்டு தொலைபேசியை வைத்தவள் இன்று நேரில் என்னை தேடி வந்து இருக்கிறாள். மன்னிப்பு கேட்க துப்பில்லாமல் எதை எதையோ நினைத்து ஸ்தம்பித்து நின்று இப்பொழுது அவள் உள்ளே போனதும் உண்மைகளை பேச துடித்துக் கொண்டு இருக்கிறேன். கதவை திறந்து காலில் விழுந்துவிடவா? அதற்கு என் ஆண்மை இடம் கொடுக்குமா? என்ன செய்ய? எப்படி சொல்ல? வார்த்தைகளால் என் மனதில் நடக்கும் போராட்டங்களை எல்லாம் விவரிக்க முடியுமா?

அர்த்தநாரி நான்- அவள் இன்றி நான் இல்லை. புரிந்து கொண்டுவிட்டேன்… அதை சொல்ல வேண்டும்….பேச வேண்டும்… பேசிக்கொண்டே இருக்க வேண்டும்… நான் என்ன செய்தாலும் என்றும் சரி என்று சொல்லியவள் என் மன உளைச்சல்களை தான் புரிந்துகொள்ள மாட்டாளா என்ன?’

கதறி கொண்டிருந்த தொலைகாட்சிக்கு முன் சென்றேன். ‘நீ எனக்கு தேவை இல்லை என்னவள் வந்து விட்டாள் என்று அதனிடம் உரக்க சொல்லி விட்டு பக்கத்தில் இருந்த காலண்டரிலிருந்து ஒரு திகதிக் காகிதத்தை கிழித்து ஒரு வார்த்தையில் ஒரு கவிதை எழுதி முன்னிருந்த மேஜையில் வைத்தேன். பசியோடு வந்திருக்கும் என் கண்மனிக்கு பாஸ்தா என்றால் உயிர், வாங்கி கொண்டு வந்து அசத்துகிறேன் பார்,’ எண்ணிக்கொண்டே வீட்டை விட்டு வெளியேறினேன்.

Available or Taken? - 55 words

He was a stranger but still I had to talk to him

Online he blinked in IM

My heart fluttered

Me – thr? Available or Taken?

He – Very much available

Me – Will you be my partner

He – Done

I smiled and I wanted to shout “thank you God (??!!)”

Finally I am in for Dan’s blog competition 

Psycho - 55 words

I sleep when the world is awake, I eat what even the dead never touch. I never get hungry for food but my eyes display hunger. I am a home bird but had to go out yesterday. Strangers called me ‘psycho’. I smiled and remembered being called ‘genius’ the previous month in my Art’s exhibition.

The Crown - 55 words

I am standing in front of the chattering crowd, anxiously. I did well – I hope. My dress flutters and so does my heart as the judge walks on to the stage and says “The 2016 Miss India title goes to…”,  ”Crown me” I shout. Far away a doctor says “Ketamine makes patients blabber don’t worr

But... I chose love

Story 1:

He was a very sweet and handsome guy. A person who could be called as ‘my guy’ so proudly. A guy who can make woman’s heart melt just by his smile. He was everything what I wanted and much more than that too. I knew him … well… very well… a step about the word ‘very well’. We were the perfect couple. Yes, ‘WERE’ but not anymore. And it was my decision, my fault. Please don’t judge me wrong but he yes he was too good for me, a little too good than I deserve. He was a sweet poison who was always there for me. I started suffocating, I couldn’t breathe ‘independence’ in his constant presence. He molded my personality with his love. And I had to choose. I killed him. I said good bye. I had many ways to kill him but I chose love...

Story 2:

I spoke too fast that people found it hard to follow. I suddenly forgot the route back home from office, the same route I had been taking the last 5 years. There were times a name made me get drenched in sweat. I knew there was nothing to be worried because my parents told me so. But still… He was a stranger to me. It was an arranged marriage. I was to enter the unknown world which surely was to be filled with loses, adjustments, sacrifices. And the only reason to do it all would be ‘love’. So will I get that?

I smiled with a tear in my eye thinking of what I went through, when my daughter explained me her emotions today. I told her – “I was the one who gave birth to you. I was your mom. But today you know me as your dad. I changed myself TO A MAN FOR A MAN. He taught me what is love, how to love. But he left me one fine day – he just left. I was so angry. I wanted to kill him (though he was dead)… to kill myself but I chose love…

Story 3:

“18 is too young an age to get settled. He kept pushing me with his non-stop ‘will you marry me’ proposals. Oh come on I have my whole life in front of me. I want to act or maybe become a singer but no, last week I went to this this movie in which the heroine was a theater artist, maybe I will be that. But wait, I am studying Engineering, I will build ports and really tall buildings. And maybe design some cloths when I find time – I just love cloths. So yes anyway my friends were right, he is too old for me. I shouldn’t have said ok to Ram who is 8 years elder to me. Who would do that? Fine now I am making up my mind, I will ditch him and maybe say ok to Shyam, he is kind of cute and of my age as well. He is a swag. So yes this is it, then.”

That was what I did… To think about it now, all I can feel is I killed Ram. I had so many ways to kill him but I chose love.

Story 4:

He – “I am sorry”

Me – “This is the 4th time”

He – “But I won’t repeat it here after”

Me – “You said the same last time”

He – “She made me fall for her”

Me – “Nobody can make you fall for anyone as long as you are ready to fall.”

He – ” Please forgive me”

Me – “Yes I will. I have  so many ways/reasons to kill you. But I choose love“

Story 5:

Please Ramya listen to me, you are crazy about him we get it but this is not how you treat your husband. How could you hit him just because he did not pick your phone? He was in a meeting for God’s sake. If a guy is in a meeting with his senior management and if his wife calls him 25 times in that one hour just to ask why a particular girl had liked his Facebook status, obviously he would get angry and not cut the call. How can that prove that he is having an affair? Your possessiveness is blinding you. Listen and think what you are doing with your life. You can’t just hit yourself and him for such a thing. He hardly knows that girl – you yourself told me that a month ago when you were in a normal mood. And please Ramya, just because Seetha tried to explain you the reality you can’t blame her to have an affair with your husband. Do you have any sense at all? Seetha is our friend, your friend. She has never seen him and you know that right? And also just think – how many girls your husband can be with if he is actually talking to you once in every half an hour and tells you/gives you proof of wherever he goes. I can’t believe you are tracking him using GPS. Seriously??? Rather than being like this you could kill him. You have so many ways to kill him but you have chosen love.

Story 6:

I am sitting in front of his dead body, crying my heart out. He is the best husband in this world (or so I thought). We married young, we were crazy about each other. He left everything for me and we were gladly accepted by my parents. We never had a kid – i couldn’t but that never stopped us from loving each other. In fact that brought us more closely than our college days. It made us more affectionate and matured.

Well that was what I thought till I went running to the hospital to see him dead in a car accident along with his wife. A little girl who looked just like my husband was standing next to them and was trying to wake them up. I trusted him, 5 years and I never knew. I was dead. I just stared at his best friend – my eyes asked why, he came near me and said the dead woman was an orphan and never knew that I existed in his life. I went near him. I wanted to wake him, shout at him and then stab him again & again. I wanted to ask why. I had many reasons to kill him, to hate him. But I turned, lifted his kid and walked away, I chose love…

unique fictions - 90 words

Entry 1 – Historical fiction

After 9 years I told him No. My sweet Richard will be devastated. I know the life with whimpering souls is tougher than his sweet ballads. I want to cry but… The choice is made. Will the world understand my kind of love ? The love for people that runs deeper in me than the love for one person?

The light always makes me think of him but I hope some day this light will define me as what I, Florence Nightingale chose to be and not what i left back.

Note : Florence Nightingale broke up with Milnes, a famous poet after 9 years of courtship to help soldiers during the Crimean war and came to be known as the lady with the lamp/light.

Entry 2 – Folk tale

Ignotus is my life and I’m ‘death’. Mine is jealous, possessive love that grabs what it can. I create the deathly hallows to kill the other two Peverells so that Ignotus is just mine. They gladly take my gifts and begone. But Ignotus leaps over oblivion lightly. He whom I want to be invisible with me becomes invisible from me.

Today in his old age, I finally consume him. He turns cold, I am shocked and then his dead smile makes me think. How can I, death ever live life?

Note: The tale of three brothers by Beedle the Bard written in 15th century, mentioned in Harry Potter book series 7.

4 word stories

1. Dreams were just dreams

2. Closed eyes never opened

3. "it's over", he said

4. Her husband is gay

Long for life

He is near me, holding my hand. But I don’t want to look at him. I just want to look around and see what others are experiencing. I want to just look into each person’s eyes from a distance and aborb their emotions through osmosis. Being the state I am in, absorbing various ‘higher’ emotions within me has always been easy.

I want to be someone else, just anyone in that big hall, anyone except me. I want to shut down my brain stop expecting because I know the wait is over. I don’t have any more strength. I want to feel those emotions in other’s eyes – the smile, the pain, the tears and yes over there in that eyes the happiness. But no I can’t becuase I have to be me – just me without any emotions, with a fake smile that will never reach my eyes. I am a body without soul but those hands which is holding me needs to see my fake smile. So I turn and look.

“It is ok. We can always adopt” – he said

I respond him with the fake smile. The one he was expecting. I always give him what he expects from me. And so has he to me. Everything but this.

And then I hear laughter, tears, geniune smiles. I turn around to look, to start playing my favourite game of osmosis on random souls with emotions (something I have lost it forever) Just to feel a little hand, too little to be called as it to be a human’s rest on my arm. It feels cold and I look at those faces with a jerk. The doctor said some unprouncable words and declared the tiniest body as a still born.

I am confused, I just don’t understand because I can feel that little finger touching my arm actually moving. I can see itz owner’s faces saying a different story about that soul than what I actually feel. Is my sense of touch which is betraying me or is it my sense of hearing? I grab the little soul – i make the crowd yell and i shake it hard. I make the tiny bundle also yell in the process.

I give the bunsle back. I turn – I smile – it did touch my eyes. I took hold of that hand which always kept holding me for these past 15 years everytime we were in this hall,

“It is ok. I just experienced creating a life” – I said.

Post wedding surprise?!

Tried to write a story in just 55 words – English for the image below.

A week after our wedding, unwrapping the gifts just to find the parcel with a withered rose, a pink bible – after I have convinced that god doesn’t exist and a pair of rings which will never find the right fingers. My dear (late?) husband, why MH370 on our wedding night for your urgent official work?

Ennavendru solvathamma

Note: tried to write a story using the lyrics of my favorite songs

Andru aval irunthaal avalodu naanum irunthaen

She was the woman -
Man meedhu sorgam vandhu pennaaga aanadhe

Every moment with her was special. We lived a beautiful life -
Velli Pirai Padakeduthu Aahaayagangai Alaikalil Thulli Kuthithom Neechaladithom

She took care of me, cherished being with me -
Madi Meethu Thoonga Solkiraai
Thol Meethu Saainthu Kolkiraai
Aruginil Vanthu Madiyinil Šaainthu Paduthaal
Melliya Kuralil Nee Isaipaai
Maarbinil Mukathai Puthaithaal Køønthalai Køthi Køduppaai
Anaippinil Mayangi Kidanthaal Asainthida Køøda Marappaai

The world named her as ‘Mother’ but I called her as ‘MY Life’ -
naeril ninru paesum dheyvam
petra thaayanri vaeronru aedhu

I was dependent on her, I knew nothing but just her -
Ennodu ne irunthaal uyirodu naan iruppaen
Un Oru Nodi Pirivinai Kooda Yerkka Mudiyathu Kanne
En Kanavilum Un Mugam Theduven

But the moments did not last long, my life was over, she was gone
Kanavukal Varuvathu Vizhikalin Viruppamaa
Kavithaikal Varuvathu Kavignanin Viruppamaa

Mudivugal varuvathu uyirgalin viruppamaa -– time did that to her, I shouldn’t blame old age so whom should I blame now?
Nee (naan) Azhuthaayae Thaai Vara
Theipirai Kaalam Vennilla
Thaeivathu Undo Ennila

Unai Ninaithu Naan Vizhithirunthaen
Iravukalil Dhinam Vanna Nilavukku Thunairunthaen

Aagayam thee pidicha nila thoonguma 
Nee illa neram ellam nenjam thaanguma 
Sola kaatu bommaikoru sontham yaarumilla

Ninainthu Ninainthu Nenjam Vali Kondathae
En Nizhalil Irunthu Ratham Kasikindrathae

 But world doesn’t stop there, I found a new mother -
Enakkaana Varam Pola Piranthaatadi
Thavam Yaedhum Puriyaamal Kidaithaayadi

She taught me things what this life couldn’t -
Kanavugal Theinthathendru
Kalangida Koodathendru
Thinam Thinam Iravu Vanthu
Thoongachøliyathey
Ènakena Unnai Thanthu
Unaku Iru Kannai Thanthu
Athan Vazhi Ènathu Kanaa Kaanachølliyathey

And today I tell my life partner -
Ennaku Enna Vendum Endru
Oru Vaarthai Kelu Nindru
Ini Neeyum Naanum Ondru
Ena Sollum Naalum Indru

In search for Air

Read Part 1 Here

Life plays strange games. I never believed in this statement till this date. Then I saw her – that one woman who made me forget that humans cannot fly. She was there just in front of me – that complete definition of beauty with those sparkling eyes which speak one million stories. That girl whose smile froze every human alive stood there frozen looking at me - she knew it was me. I did not expect her there. I know her and wanted to meet her – the girl who has married my wife’s best friend. I had plans to sit with her and tease my wife and her husband by drilling out the most embarrassing situations of their childhood period. But looking at her – I froze. No I did not, physically but my brain did. I become a plane on auto pilot mode. I smile without any hint of recognition and move inside the house.

Anyone who saw me and knew the story would wonder why I was as I was. But how can I respond? I am married, I have a charming wife and a darling kid. I love my family and am grateful to God for them to be part of my life. So how can I react? How can I respond to that shock? – I don’t have a choice I had to respond with blankness and smile. I have always been good at it. I am Vishnu – named after the God who has taken various forms and today my form is to be a good loving husband to Vidhya – which I always am but also to be the person who has no past.

She looks the same after 6 years. I want to tell her that. I want to catch her face and look into those eyes and tell the truth out for the whole world to know that she is my world. She was always THE one. But how can I? I made the choice. I had to move away. Sometimes there are things which humans are bound to follow and I was a mere human. The petty financial constraints, the wrong timings, silly fights, wrong perceptions and finally parent’s health and expectations have made me move away. She never knew why, she wanted to know the reason for years – a closure to the past. But I was not able to give her. Love deserves sacrifices but in my story I had to sacrifice the love in itself. How can I tell her all this now? Will she accept it? Or does she even want to know it?

I can see she is in pain. Or is it just shock filled with loath? I can’t guess and I don’t want to. I made a decision and though maybe I am not in peace with my past and I still am suffering with nightmares. Something are best to be left in the rotten state. And that goes with my love for Nisha. I talk a lot than usual, I smile a lot than usual. Vidhya knows something is wrong – but she is more concerned with Nisha, who says that she is unwell, than me at that point. I tell Vidhya that we’ll leave early than the earlier plan given Nisha’s health. Vidhu, my wife agrees and we bid goodbye and leave the place.

I start the car in 5th gear instead of 1st. I hit the clutch thinking it’s the accelerator. I get out of the car. I need air – I need my brain to unfreeze. I need to breathe. Vidhya comes near me with no expression on her face. I try to look composed – the air did do some magic to me. I keep looking at the horizon. She came towards me and says “You really are a good actor. But I have always been the director”. I turn and look at her – shocked and frozen. Now- not just my brain but also my entire body. Does Vidhya know?

In search for Darkness

Tried to write a story from a picture taken from Net. This is my 1st story. You can find the 2nd Here and 3rd Here.

“Come on, get ready they will be in here any time now. Oh… no no dress up well like a doll I want you to look all dear and special but please HURRY UP”. That was my husband’s voice from the dining room. It is always easy for these guys to get ready in a matter of minutes. It would for me too if I could grab a jean and Tee and get out with my buddies. But the ones coming are not my buddies. It is my hubby’s best friend. And my hubby expects me to look all girly and cute.

Vidya – that is the girl. My hubby first saw her when they were 4 years of age – crying to join the new school. Then they used to fight every single day and the teachers used to report to their parents regarding their behavior. But just after Vidya’s family moved next to my hubby’s home, things changed. From worst enemies they became best friends. My hubby did nothing without consulting with her. Even I was her choice for him.

But then after marriage lives changed. Just like every girl’s life which takes a complete U turn Vidhya’s and mine did. I had to get settled in Australia with my husband.  We couldn’t make it to Vidhu’s marriage. She was so angry and she almost quit talking with my husband. I then called her up and spoke with her one day. This process I took to patch up my husband and Vidhu resulted in me n Vidhu become best buddies. We have had more than a million girl talks. She had to fly away to Germany with her husband and thus we never got a chance to meet even those times when me and hubby went to India.

She is a charming girl full of life. She can make anyone smile. I so wanted to meet her but she said that it should be a surprise and no Skype video chats nonsense. Distance never reduces the love but it always distances people’s life. We missed her a lot. I did more than my husband but the truth is we – the girls can’t accept it openly given the guys’ possessiveness. So yes today we are to meet HIS friend that is how he wants it to be.

Getting all glossy and shiny I looked at the mirror and I loved the way I looked. A small smile crept on my face. I remembered a moment back from my memory saying “Alaga irukka de”. A calling bell sound was heard. I shook my head and came back to reality those cherished deep rooted memories are best left to be forgotten. And I knew it.

I rushed to the front door to look at my/our best friend for the first time in flesh and blood and hug her. But it was not her. It was the owner of that little voice which came from my memory. That same smile, the same face and same voice which now said “you look beautiful, I am Vidhu’s husband May I come in?” I was un-freezed by my husband’s hands on my shoulder and Vidhu’s bear hug just after the person entered the house. ‘IT is HIM, IT is HIM, IT is HIM’ my heart was shouting at me. But he showed no signs of recognition. Vidhu kept telling I was not alright, I told her I was unwell. I smiled and froze and smiled and acted till the whole day was over and they left.

And that second when everyone including my husband was out, every single second of the past which I with all my might and courage had stuffed inside a box and threw it under the deep sea came back threatening my life. I ran to THAT one place, that single source of light in the ocean of darkness which became my friend for 4 years because of one amazing guy long before I decided to get married. I was In Search for darkness YET AGAIN. And my search may physically end here (the picture) but my heart would still keep the search alive for life.

Story of a crow

Tried to write a story from a picture taken from Net. This is my 2nd story. You can find the 1st Here and 3rd Here.

I have tried to complete the entire story in the fewest possible number of lines. Hope it is ok.

To own a new house was the dream for the crow family. The he-crow struggled hard, worked day and night at CTS and finally got promoted. It was eligible for home loan and thus went for a small house far away from the city where it can settle. The house was ready and it was made a home. The barren surrounding, hours of travel to the home and power cuts were an issue but the sense of ownership made the he and she-crow very satisfied until that one night. That night when the parent crows came to know that the little crow has been spending every night sleeping in the floor of the bathroom with an emergency lamp’s light as company as it is the only cool place in the entire house when the power is gone.

Black and White

Tried to write a story from a picture taken from Net. This is my 3rd story. You can find the 1st Here and 2nd Here.

The silent yet stunning, afraid of the world simple girl – that is me. I love to enjoy life but my definition is neither partying outdoors nor have a gang of friends. I love things as they are and that is my hobby, my studies and my profession. My entire life is intertwined with that one emotion – love. I love what exists and how it exists and I give life to them by capturing them in electronic gadgets, in paper, canvas, pots and cloths and sometimes as words and music. I found this love inside me when I was very little. My first love was mom just like it is for every one of you. And my second love was for sketches. Those amazing colors, the life it gave to everything around mesmerized me. I added color to everything around me from my little pup till the roads and school grounds I cross to come back home. I colored everything every time I had a chance to do it. I wanted to color Coovam River in bright colors. I hated it being black (the river) and white (the papers floating). I was secretly praying every day for that chance.

When I was 12 years old I finally got that chance. My school van was late and so I descended the narrow path which once could have been well laid steps and reached the bank of the river. I took my sketches and paint out and started coloring the water. I was not sure how long I had spent in there but when I realized that the darkness around had even dimmed my beautiful colors to black, I realized I was lost. I ran back to the pick-up point and sat there crying till my father came there with a van full of my other relatives. That was the day when my 2^nd love killed my 1^st. My ailing mother had died of cardiac arrest because of the shock that I was missing. From then on I loathed what was once my dearest 2^nd love.

I studied art, photography and movie making. Everything mentioned initially is still true but my love is not colored. I love things as they are but in their negatives form. And this picture just life every other of mine is in Black and White.

Rosaline (From The tragedy of Romeo & Juliet): My Story

Rosaline – that is my name. I want to share my story to this world which has loved and worshipped Romeo and his Juliet for years. This is a world which accepts and favors true love. And with that strong belief I am here in front of everyone to soliloquize my life.

What is love? Who defined love to this world? Shah Jahan & Mumtaz, Laila & Majnu, Romeo & Juliet?  When I think about juxtapose it holds, I smirk and then smile. This world has secrets, opinions, thoughts and that is because of the sculptor who beautifully brings out his view of the object with his hands. He includes intricacies to it which melt and fade away to the common man’s eyes. This sculpture is explained by experts and the extracts are read and re written by critic after critic and finally the little hints the sculptor left behind are totally lost.

 You may be wondering why I am telling you all this. It is because I am the little intricate fold which Shakespeare left behind for the world to understand. I am the embodiment of love which he wanted every one of you to write down in your hearts. But I am lost just like many other works which should not have been.

I belong to the Capulet’s family. Romeo’s lineage is our Arch enemy. I love my family and I live by principles. To me promises are meant to be followed and there are no rules or means to circumvent it. To simply put in the language of today’s world, I am an old school and also a nerd. And Romeo was just my opposite.

 There was nothing romantic in the way I first met him. I don’t want to go into the details but I met him and he was there. The second I looked into his eyes, my age and life in this world felt wasted. I knew who he was but when the heart starts its game, the brain stops functioning. I just looked, actually stared at him with my big beautiful eyes and then walked away. I knew he liked me. His gestures, the confusion and rush of emotions in his face, his eyes dancing magically all over me – I am not sure I can explain how but we were in love and I saw it in his eyes. I am a girl we girls always know it.

We met a number of times, by chance of luck or by chance of humans. And I never spoke – I just couldn’t. He made me hypnotized. I thought he knew but that was my mistake. Days flew by and he asked me one day. True to his house’s norms which did not believe in marriages and a couple had to consummate to prove their bond to the world. I was not ok with it. I wanted a fairy tale marriage and I had sworn to maintain my chaste till that day to my forefathers. Romeo couldn’t understand me. To him I was just a weak embodiment of rose with apparent perfection in looks. He did not understand that to reach the rose one had to face the thorns and it is not Rose’s mistake but it is how it is made.

Romeo did not stop pursuing me but was upset and dead inside. “She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow / Do I live dead that live to tell it now.”- He said his friends. And his friends who wanted him to move away from my thoughts forced him to go to parties where there could be many other beautiful angels who may make him forget me. In my mind I knew Romeo, I knew he would wait and understand and accept just me. I trusted him and I was right till the second he met Juliet.

The rest of the story is something which you all know. They killed each other with their so called love. Critics called Romeo’s love for me as childish and for Juliet as matured. They were according to the world, meant to be together forever. And they are in each human’s heart today. But I sacrificed my life too not physically but emotionally.

I turned 90 and died alone in my chamber with Romeo in my heart and my promises kept till my last breath. People around me thought I was silent and mad to lead such a life. They couldn’t understand. I said nobody because nobody asked because nobody knew this – Even when Romeo was with Juliet, even when he killed himself there was a rose near him, there was me. When Juliet said Romeo that in every woman there is a Rose, I realized her intelligence. She knew she could never take my place in his heart and so she had offered herself to him as my replacement saying I was in her too.

 The world may call them star crossed lovers and me as a cruel soul. But true love does not make judgments. My heart knows the truth because I have seen it in his eyes. So I sit silently reading every version of the tale and smiling at the world on their naive ignorant behaviors and inferences. Just today, just for a second I wanted to know how it feels to live a life when the world knows the truth. And so I write this, I write this to all of you – I am Rosaline and this is my story.

Beauty in everything

To wake up early in the morning, manage to get ready, stuff something inside the mouth and run to office... Work all day past dawn and dusk and make our way back home when the Sun is bright in the other part of the world, there are so many things which happens when we take life for granted and touches our life to make us realize how beautiful life is. But we never give them a chance. I thought why not give the world a chance to prove its worth? Listen to it for a day and understand if it has the right to feel the pride? So the day next -

'The warmth of the bed-sheet, the softness of the bed, the pillow which kisses my cheeks and the other pillow which is nuzzling up with me... The rays of sun which has one million colors, fighting with my stubborn curtain and creating beautiful patterns on my wall to grasp my attention to it. Then the rays calls its friend, the wind to help it move the stubborn one and enter into my room. Filling every nook and corner and finally touching my eyes. My dear pillow saves me from the rays but Sun is a possessive guy. I do love him but he just can't stand my amity with the pillows. He is angry on the pillow, more angrier on me. And starts hurting me with its warmth. I get frustrated on this jealous guy and I seek my friend- the curtain's help and send the sun off my room. 

I get up and feel the dark messy hair, my early morning innocent face, my half opened eyes like the crescent, dry lips longing for the kiss from the most clear and pure soul- the water. My lips get what it wants and much more too. The sweet smelling colorful paste looks like the foam of deep blue sea on a pearl. I get ready and thank all those amazing human imaginations hung on the wall and given various beautiful names. 

I am still angry on that possessive sun. I have decided not to look at him and so I cover myself completely with cream and cloth. My eyes search for comfort and my feet enters the one pair which promises that. I start to office and see the love, the amazing colors, art and beauty in every single face and human creation. The golden reflection in the dark water and the swiftness with which humans cut off one of their senses (smell) while crossing the koovam. 

At office every word typed and every word spoke are in sync creating a song. I listen to it and dance with it. I start back home with darkness as the companion. Now I miss my darling new Sun whom I hated and avoided the whole day. I understand how protective and caring he had been and how silly I was. When my thoughts are torturous just like the roads which I travel by, the fleeting images of him along with the fragrance of the mud and leaves fill my nostrils and gives me the purest addiction possible. Suddenly between the shadows and branches of the body guards (trees) with whom travels the fresh friend of my guy, the wind who follows me for my protection, I see a ray of light. It is not the light with million colors with which I fell in love with. This one is silvery and sweet and is shy. This guy looks cute but is being coercively kept away by my body guards with the help of the wind. I look above myself and look into his eyes. The moon, the handsome milky white guy so far who helps me find the right route. I silently thank him but loudly say out - "you won't last for long I can't trust you enough to be with you". He is a real beauty but he is just not my type and I understand it. 

I reach home, reach for my bed and pillow to snuggle myself but in my heart I think of my sun. I say out aloud - wake me up soon and I wont be angry on you. I also tell him thanks and that I missed him. I close my eyes and join hands with human faces in my dream.'

 It was just one day among the million days spent on this Earth. I did give it a chance and thus I saw in everything - love and beauty !!!

Independence day

I got up early in the morning, went by walk to the nearest school with a number of reporters following me. It was not just any other day but the day when every kid was given chocolates. Though that was not how the kids were expected to remember the day. 

In front of 100s of kids, I stood smiling and waving my hand. I was asked to hoist the flag and stand in attention to sing the national anthem. Am i worth it? I was not sure. I was just an actress. My profession has made the world love and remember me. But is that enough to touch and hoist the precious national flag? Apparently the school felt it was. Wearing a tri colour salwar with matching accessories, a flag pinned over my chest I did look worth the position. When the entire ceremony was over, I was taken to the principal's room and was gifted with a memento for my visit. I gladly accepted it. 

I waved for the kids and came outside the school. My car driver was waiting outside to take me for a shoot. While I was busy smiling and posing for the cameras just before getting in the car, I saw a woman in her early 40s looking at me from the house nearby. A closer look would suggest that she was no more than 35 years of age. Life had aged her and there was pain, struggle and unexplainable pride in her stare. It was that look from a woman without a limb whose house' name plate read retired Lieutenant general. It made me think. looked around, I looked at the memento in my hand- My attire and my national flag pin. And then I looked at her. Our eyes met...

"Madam madam" came my maid's voice. I had overslept, just like every other day. She reminded me that I had an appointment to attend the nearby school's flag hoisting ceremony. I asked my assistant to inform the principal that I was bailing out of it. I knew what they would say when they hear that news. But I also knew whom they would invite as per their backup plan. I sat in front of the television and watched the Prime Minister's speech in my tri colour salwar with national flag pinned over my chest.

Butterfly's Love

There was once a caterpillar in my hand. So beautiful amazing n precious to me. I thought I owned it inside my palm and never realized when it turned into to a butterfly. It wanted freedom, it wanted a life. It came to know of those gardens and forests filled with many flowers and varieties of nectars which could never be experinced if it was with me. I was naive and I was blind. One day, I opened my palm and asked "why are you struggling when all I doi is to protect, love and care for you". It looked at me and flew away without a word. I waited and waited and waited a little more looking at the beautiful gardens and forests filled with flowers in far away lands, hoping and praying it would remember the path back to my hut. But that never happened. I remembered the quote - 'let it go if it comes back it is yours and if it doesn't it never was at the first place'. Well I let it go and it proved me that it never was mine. 

To fall in love with a butterfly I had to turn into a flower - stable, beautiful, lovely, grounded back at home waiting with sweet nectar forever. I was not a flower but a girl who loved the caterpillar and not the butterfly. I am just a girl with the heart waiting for it to touch my palm, waiting for that one (my) BUTTERFLY'S LOVE.