Saturday, September 26, 2015

True stories - 4Grandpa chronicles

True stories - 4Grandpa Chronicles

One of Muthassans favourite hobbies was cleaning out the "store room". The one outside the TV room, before you reach the terrace with the recliner swing. It contained Muthassans memories. His old books, his old shirts and dhotis, undamaged, just too old, but too close to his heart to be thrown away. The most important component of his store room were his old photographs and its negatives. That's the reason why he cleans it out, once in a while, so that he can see all those again, recollect a lot of memories, and that makes him very happy and content. We cousins liked to help him whenever possible, because we will surely hear a story or two and probably get our hands on a rare and treasured photograph of our parents or their cousins. Those were wonderful days.

It was one of those school vacation days where all of us where helping him around with his store re-assembly work, moving things in an out, changing things from one suitcase to the other, when this happened. A cockroach suddenly appeared and scampered towards us. My girl cousin, moved out of the way and suddenly we all hear this shrieky girly squeal, that actually jolted us more than the cockroach itself. I think even the cockroach got scared hearing the noise, that it took of and flew out of the store. Calm was restored but what amused us was the source of the shriek. It was not my female cousin, but it came from the the biggest of us all, my tall well built male cousin (who went on to become 6 foot / 100 kg), who, even after the cockroach had flown away, looked pale and sweaty. Group laughter followed and all of us cousins started to make fun of him, imitating his girly squeal and comparing it with his body size and masculinity. He was clearly becoming embarrassed. Grandpa seeing this, came to his rescue. " I guess he just proved that he's the purest Brahmin of us all.", grandpa said. 

Laughter ceased, taunting stopped, curiosity came up. "How is that??", I couldn't stop myself from asking, jealousy predominating in my voice at the compliment given to him. Grandpa smiled a deep satisfied smile and said, "Its the same reason why Karna got cursed by Lord Parasurama. You kids know that story??" One of the kid cousins offered, " Isn't it because he lied about being a Brahmin to learn archery from Parasurama??". Grandpa continued, " yes, that's the reason. But how did Parasurama find out, that Karna wasn't a Brahmin??" None of the kids knew the answer, my shriek cousin was slowly beginning to smile. I could vaguely sense where this was going. Grandpa settled himself on top of a trunk, ready for the story, the kids gathered around him, me and the 'true Brahmin' cuz standing by the door of the store. 

"One afternoon Parasurama was taking a nap on the ground, head on Karnas lap. Karna was then bit by a wasp. The bite was quite painful and the wasp was dark and scary, but Karna suffered the pain and did not move, as he did not want to awaken his Guru from his nap. The blood from the bite made his clothes wet and woke up Parasurama, who saw that  his pupil was bleeding but hadn't made any movement or noise to protect himself. Parasurama immediately knew that the boy wasn't a Brahmin, as a true Brahmin would never stay still/ silent on the sight of a wasp, let alone suffer the pain of its bite. Now you know, why I am not amused at the noise that he made, being scared of such things is inherently in our genes from time immemorial." 
Grandpa finished his story and walked away to his room, giving a small pat on my hero cousins shoulder. He looked content, gave a mini shrug as if it was everyday business being a true Brahmin, and proceeded to work, but carefully avoiding my eye. The kid cousins never made fun of him and actually gave him a little too much respect than warranted, from then on. 

I don't know what's more amusing; a giant cousin who shrieks like a baby, or a kickass grandpa who prevents his grandchildren from undue embarrassment by quoting stories from the Puranas. :-)

True stories - 3Grandpa chronicles

True stories - 3Grandpa chronicles

Muthassan loved watching sports. He thought of soccer as too violent for his taste but loved to follow tennis and cricket. I'm sure all the cousins (his grandchildren) have watched at least a game or two with him, and knew that his favourite tennis player was "Naadaan" - i.e. his mallu pet name for Rafael Nadal. 

So I was at Ammath for my summer vacations when there was this cricket match one day between India and Australia. Muthassan saw me glued to the set, waiting for the toss, and told me to inform if something significant happens while he went to the other room to iron his clothes. (Yes, Muthassan loved to iron his own clothes and dhotis, even at the age of 90..)

Australia started batting and in the second over Irfan Pathan trapped Mathew Hayden in front of the wicket. I was pretty happy and came rushing to Muthassan and told him. "He's gotten him out LBW!!".

"Who??", he asked. "Irfan Pathan", I replied. "Is Irfan Pathan out or did he get someone out??", Muthassan asked, confused.
I understood that he did not know who was batting and cleared the confusion.

Muthassan then said, "You should be specific in what you say and tell the most relevant things first. Don't you know the way Hanuman gave Lord Sree Rama news of finding Seetha??" 
I was very curious now. " I don't know Muthassa.... What did Hanuman say???", I prodded.

Muthassan smiled gently and began his story. "You see, Lord Sree Rama had sent his monkey troops in all directions in search of the missing Sita Devi and, having the most trust in Hanuman, had given him his signature ring. Hanuman spotted Sita Devi in Lanka, spoke with her and was rushing with her symbol to Lord Sree Rama to give him the happy news. On seeing Lord Sree Rama from a distance, you know what Hanuman said excitedly??" 

Muthassan paused to catch his breath, (I was already holding mine!!) and also to increase the suspense of the story.

"Hanuman said, 'Sighted!!! Sighted, Seetha Devi has been!!!' instead of 'Seetha Devi has been sighted.' ( 'Kanduuu.., nyan Seethaye.....' instead of 'Seethaye nyan kandu')

He did not want to delay the most important part of the news by even a few words / seconds.", Muthassan concluded and walked off to see the rest of the match but not before nailing it. 

"The Puranas are not just the story of God. They are a way of thinking, they are a way of life."



True stories -2Grandpa chronicles

True stories -2Grandpa chronicles

I was back from my trip to Banaras and I was telling in detail about the place to muthassan, the Ghats, the stunning beauty of the Aarti puja on the Ganges and the absolute inner peace that the place seems to offer.

He was nodding his head, listening intently and I knew he was reminiscing his own memories of the trip he made to the same places many years back.

"Did u go to Sankat Mochan temple?", he asked me. 

"No Muthassa", I replied. "I didn't have enough time to go there."

"I had this interesting experience when I went to Sankat Mochan.", Grandpa began, with a hint of a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. I could sense a very interesting story coming up, so I rushed to the seat on the floor next to his feet by the side of his recliner and prodded, "What was that, please tell me."

"When I went to the SM temple with your Muthassi, there were monkeys all around. We were warned not to feed the monkeys and your Muthassi was at her most irritable, hiding all the little eatables which we had inside her bag and shooing them off ferociously. I on the other hand, got a banana and offered it to the nearest monkey that approached me. 

The monkey took the banana, moved away and started eating it. It peeled the banana in full in one go and put the whole thing in, chomped on it and swallowed it, all within a few seconds.

You are not going to believe what happened next.

The monkey went to the nearby drinking water tap a few paces away. He (HE, was the word Muthassan used, not IT, I noticed. Avan - was the exact word) opened the tap with one hand, drank some water and then scampered off, but not before carefully "CLOSING" (!!!) the tap completely. Such a polished behaviour from Avan I never ever expected to see. Now you know why I believe the lower animals are our forefathers in rebirth.", Muthassan concluded.

He stood up to leave before he hit the home run.

"Kunje....Until one has loved an animal, a part of ones soul remains unawakened." 

And he walked away but not before making my life brighter richer and much more meaningful.



True stories - Soul

True stories - Soul
My fiancée doesn't believe me when I say Kripaharan, sitting in the crowd, wept like a baby when our team came second in the TCS quiz by a point during our 12th standard.
My sister can't understand why Somu the giant (Sreenath), cried his heart out seeing his classmates forfeit the St. Thomas school fest to honourably settle an inter class dispute.
My cousins can't imagine Jacob being hung out of a third floor window of Std 11 for making a fool out of seniors but still remained their favourite junior.
My mom doesn't agree to Robin and Ebi maintaining the best of friendships even after the latter literally knocking the teeth out of the former in a Comp FC vs FC Bio football match.
The society does not approve one of my classmates, co owner of a firm, offering a job to another classmate, a college dropout, and still think he's over-qualified for the job.
My college-mates can't imagine the fact that the first person to get placed from the batch, that too in a prestigious national law institute, was the least studious. He is currently on a soul searching mission in the Himalayas.
Nobody is this whole wide world believed me when I told them about our farewell, when all 43 of us grown up men broke down while taking that candle walk meeting all our teachers.
People don't understand us Loyolites. I don't expect them to. Bcos Loyola was never just a school.
Loyola is an emotion.
Loyola is love.

True stories - 7 kind of people you meet in the PGI library

7 kind of people you find in the PGI library reading room.


MD exam is done. All the sleepless nights, nightmare interrupted sleep, everything is done with. Finally it turned out to be a battle which was won or lost in the mind. The buildup was the worst part, like everybody predicted. Unlike predictions, for me, the library experience was the best part- only because of the people involved. The absolute characters....

Sleeping beauty

Now, everyone knows who this is, so no prizes for guessing. Yes, Everybody do takes naps in between their studies, but what makes our rosy lipped beauty different is that each day he sleeps 12 hours in the lib. That's right.... 12 hours!! each day.... He starts dozing off by 7 pm and dozes away till 7am. At around 10 he starts snoring, not rhythmic, but with a very bad tone similar to the stuck gear box of a jeep trying to climb a steep hill. Once Tonsil tried to wake him up. SB got angry as to why he was woken. ENT softly tried to point out he was making too much of a noise. "Me!!! Snore??? Don't lie to me, you evil fellow!!!", was the response he got. Tonsil quietly returned to his seat and was seen with huge ear-covering headphones from the next day. Pics of SB sleeping in the most awkward positions, saliva drooling, keeps circulating occasionally in whatsapp groups. Nobody's amused anymore. What's even more irritating are his gyrations. Well, SB has this unique method of preventing himself from falling asleep which is successful for initial 15 mins. He starts moving back and forth sitting in a chair. The chair doesn't move, only his torso. Like a pendulum. God knows how one can focus on ur laptop screen when u r moving back and forth with a speed of 40 to 60 cycles per min. But SB started loving it to the extent that he started doing it when he's not sleepy also, during the day, whenever he feels he needs some exercise or entertainment. That was the last straw for the angry-Young-man J, who once gave him a piece of his mind, with absolutely no effect. Thus we were stuck with a swinging pendulum in one corner of our visual field all throughout the day. Till 7pm only, luckily, after that the sound show starts..

That brings us to the second character I met, the angry-Young-man or J. This handsome heart throb of all girls in the library, is however more known for his pure unadultered emotion, anger. Anger in his looks, those round staring eyes, moustache flaring, thin lipped look, which scares the sh@t out of everybody.  You as much make a loud sneeze or turn pages of ur book noisily in his presence and You'll disturb him of his concentration, and be subject to his infamous moustache flaring glare. Once by accident one of the girls had her mobile vibrate near J. How she dint get killed, and how she dint start crying seeing 'The Glare', is a miracle to date. She literally ran out of the lib with her phone and when she returned an hour later, she kept her phone outside and her eyes were red and cheeks puffed. That's the effect 'The Glare' has on you. However J is a real sweet person deep inside. Very deep inside, that is. If you can tolerate the 10 mins of hardcore 'gaali', about how his time is being wasted, that he throws at you every time you ask him a doubt, then he will teach you in detail and leave no doubt left, by the end of the session. Btw he also bought tea and samosas for the girl he scared off also as a gesture of making up, although not many people know that. <now they do :-D>

Venkatesh Prasad

Well, I still don't know what his real name is. VP is a name given by J. He is a tall well built fellow who's known in the lib for his snoring. Better tune than that of Sleeping beauty, but real LOUD. People won't believe me when I say this, but the glass panes of the windows shake when he's at his loudest. Another characteristic of the big guy is that he makes his entry to the library felt. He barges in, dumps his books at his place noisily, runs to the next empty chair, picks it up above his head, slams it in his position. More than enough noise to irritate the hell out of J. About 10 mins later, 'The SNORE' begins. Why call him VP, I asked J. "Have you seen Venkatesh Prasad bowl?", he asked me. "Boundary se bhag bhag ke aate hai, finally jab ball dalte hai, Kumble se bhi slow dalte hein". Apparently the actions of our hero reminds him of  the bowling of Venkatesh Prasad, so VP, Venkatesh, Venki....the name got stuck.

Smarty and Tonsil.

These are two cool chums from surgery and ENT. The smart ass is tall, fair and handsome, who knows his subject well. He gives the sweetest of smiles to the females and runs his fingers through those well shampooed wavy hair, necessarily and unnecessarily, just for the fun of it. At the same time, Tonsil is a simple, straight forward guy . No fooling around, just come, sit, study and go. Smarty somehow can't stand this. So everytime he takes a break, for loo or tea or food or whatever, he stoops near Tonsil, looks at what he's reading, and says.... "This is nothing, just do a tonsillectomy" or something like, "why do you learn so much, do you know how to do a tonsillectomy, that's more than enough for you". Everyday, for every break. Tonsillectomy. Tonsillectomy. Tonsil however just smiles everytime, no response was ever given. One day however, J lost it. He told Smarty, quite loudly, "if you dare utter tonsillectomy in front of me once more, I'll have your orchidectomy done, bc!! A@& H&₹@!!!" The whole table was in fits of laughter for about 5 mins and that suppressed Smarty, at least for a couple of days.

Bill Gates

Nothing special about him, other than he spends time in front of his lap. Every single moment he is the lib, for the last three months. Doesn't look up, doesn't smile, doesn't take tea / coffee/loo breaks or anything. Zombie mode. No, he is not doing his thesis.  No, he is not studying articles. He is studying text books from his laptop. No iPad, no tabs or phone, no paper contact whatsoever. Just him and his lap. And the incessant clicking of his mouse / space bar which makes us all mad. But we got tone deaf to it, even J. So it's ok. Just give him the seat near the plug point and shut your ears off and all is cool. 

Biscuit / Barcelona

The eye doctor who's is very different. Mallus' call her Biscuit, as her long traditional name is the same which Mohanlal coined for his Biscuit company (in memory of his mom!!) in the cult/classic movie 'Midhunam'. Mallus can't associate that name with anything else. She still thinks it is a name of a real biscuit company in Kerala of which Mohanlal is a brand ambassador off and nobody has bothered to correct that. The rest of the world knows her as being the only female football fan that they know off. Huge supporter of Barcelona FC, Iniesta and Puyol. Original Barcelona Fc keychain and original blazer. When I told all my guy friends about this batchmate girl I met at the library, half of them wouldn't believe me at any cost. The first thing that the other half (whom I could convince with difficulty and evidence) asked me was, "Is she married??" :-D. Not a question about looks/family/money/education/nationality/job. Not even one word about age/religion/character. I guess this proves that the heart of a man knows what the mind does not. Football is religion and football is life.

That's the main 7 but there are a few honourable mentions too. The "stock broker" - who's phone always keeps ringing, "vibrate" - who has a cell phone vibration so loud that the whole table shakes (once the water bottle fell off the table but it was later attributed not to the phone vibration but because of the actual earthquake, actually we couldn't differentiate :-D), "stalker" (yeah that might be me...before you say it...)  - who somehow notices anything and everything that happens in the lib, who all come, who all doesn't, who's absent etc. etc, "Romeo & Juliet" - who come to the lib for their romancing and PDAs. 

What did 3 months in the library give me?? I made the awesomest of friends that anyone can ever have, a number of books that requires a truck every time I change places, a terrible sense of humour, an unhealthy addiction for coffee n iced tea and a collection of fun filled stories of different residents from all parts of the country.
I wouldn’t have missed this ride for all the money in the world.




True stories - Grandpa chronicles

True stories - Grandpa chronicles

One day grandpa asked us cousins (his grandchildren), "Do you know what the favourite food of foxes are??"

"No idea Muthassa.... we haven't seen foxes outside the zoo, let alone know what their favourite food items are.", chimed one of us.

"Aah...", muthassan sighed, "you kids are missing a lot in your childhood. Crabs are their favourite food. Not the sea crabs, the crabs that live along the paddy fields. Do you know how these foxes catch their crabs???"

We could sense that he was in mood for a story, so all of us quietly gathered around him, seated around his chair, while he leaned back on his favourite recliner. "Grab them when they come out?", I offered hopefully.

" No.", muthassan continued. "You see, crabs live in these narrow holes in the paddy fields ridges or by their wet sides. The clever fox, put it bushy tail into the hole and waits patiently. One or the other stupid crab gets naughty and snaps its pincers on it. The fox, although the bite hurts him, patiently waits a few minutes and then slowly lifts his tail out of the hole, along with the crab, and pounces on it as soon as it is out."

"I think it's natures' way of telling us that it's just not intelligence that is required. You got to have patience, suffer pain and hardships, and believe in your cause to finally achieve what you want."

Books can't teach you many things. Wisdom tops the list among those. 


True stories - suicide

True stories - Suicide


I was having for a week long break from Chandigarh and was heavily devouring all the variety food mom cooked for us.

That evening we were at the dinner table, I am serving myself huge portions of her Mushroom and Palak Penne pasta, when I saw dad sitting opposite to me, struggling to open the ketchup bottle with the bottle opener.

I was in such a hurry to start eating, with all that wonderful aroma entering my nostrils, that I said, "Kya kar rein aap, idhar dedo.... (what are you doing, gimme that!!)", grabbed the bottle from his hand and in one smooth swift experienced motion, using the teeth of my right side (beer bottle style..), bit opened the bottle, as if I was doing the most routine thing of my life, and handed it over back to him, crown cap flying away.

There was a sudden silence in the room but for the clattering of the crown on the floor a few feet way, and I realised my stupid mistake. 

Dad was staring at me with this shocked expression, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, but no sound coming out, while mom to my right was totally oblivious of whatever was happening around her. The rest of the dinner was spent in silence, me not even looking up from my plate for the whole of my meal which had pasta but no ketchup . 

That was the day my dad realised that his daughter has come of age.

True stories - Humanity

True Stories - Humanity

The smallest of instances, the tiniest of actions prove to us how humanity and love for the fellow human being, is inherently present in us all. I am not gloating here, but I see it day in and night out among residents. MD students who pull trolleys, who open their purses and give money to patients, who donate blood for their patients, who believe that a part of their salary should always go to charity, these are the people who reinforce the belief in humanity and the ultimate power of the human heart, prayer and effort. I have seen residents say, " I will not let this patient die under my watch" with such conviction that it was no surprise that they kept their word, I have seen MD residents weep like babies when their patient, totally unrelated to them otherwise, expires. I have also heard Residents say, "What's the point, he is going to die anyways", and then work so hard, put so much effort, as if they are determined to prove themselves wrong. I have seen residents argue with their consultants about the unfairness of the system. Not the system that doesn't provide the residents a decent salary, definite working hours or decent food and accommodation. But against the system that makes patients wait hours to see the doctor, to wander for their investigation reports, against the system that doesn't provide drugs free of cost to the patients, against the system that doesn't care for its patients enough. Never a word against the system that treats them like sh&t. The resident doesn't care about what Aamir Khan says about them or what the J&K minister does to them, they don't even care what pittance the Tamil govt pays them, mainly because he does not have to think about all this, he is busy saving lives. I have seen residents shun all compliment goodies thrown at them by the MRs but use the goodwill in getting free/discounted medication for their patients. I have seen residents take leave from their free postings and voluntarily go to foreign countries affected by earthquake, live through pathetic facilities because they just felt they had to 'do their part'. I have seen and experienced countless times how the residents and staff work efficiently as a team to resuscitate a patient whose heart has stopped, and then walk away as if it's nothing exceptional when the patient is revived from the gateway of death. It's nothing new to them and least the resident wants, at any point, is the credit. I have seen residents gets scolded to tears not for their lack of knowledge but for the lack of commitment towards the patient. Because that's how the unit works, not just here, but everywhere, the seniors always ensure that the resident learns the most important lesson of them all, ie empathy. 

I agree that my 10 year experience in the medical field doesn't make me an expert. I agree that our profession too has its black sheep and thorny bushes, but in the SAME frequency and proportion as all other professions, if not less. I agree that we too make avoidable mistakes, albeit rarely, and we have huge room for improvement, in ourselves and in the system. I agree that there are many other self sacrificing professions, people who work day and night selflessly so that we sleep safe, the policemen, the jawans at the border, train drivers, pilots etc etc. but one also has to realise that none of them are ever under litigation for huge sums for any mistake they may ever commit, few of them need a professional insurance that too for huge amounts. But again, like all the personal problems the doctor/resident faces, we just don't care because we are too busy saving the next life.

I'll conclude by a small scene I saw while I was passing by the emergency the other day. The emergency was crowded, as always, and the hall outside the Emg had patients on trolleys on either side that there was just space in between for people to walk through the hall 
 in a single line. There was this young female patient lying in one of the trolleys, and between her legs was perched her infant. The new born was probably less than a month old, judging by his size, but was unusually very calm, not shrieking but just lying relaxed gazing out with her big eyes at all the commotion happening around her. Each and every one of those who passed by the mother and the kid couldn't resist giving the infant a loving glance, and pause for a moment to absorb the beauty of the scene in between the chaotic emergency. The guy who walked in front of me, like all others, paused for a moment near the infant. He suddenly saw a housefly, fly in and land itself in the infant knee. He didn't  think for a moment before using his hand to shoo the fly away. The infant seeing the fly and the shooing motion, got amused and gave him, her eye twinkling, toothless and wide smile, which the bearded sardarji promptly returned, as he walked away. The passerby sardarji by the sheer virtue of human nature, simply couldn't stand a fly sitting on some unrelated infants knee and vice versa, the infant, not yet destroyed by the the society, didn't hesitate to give the sweetest of smiles to the bearded stranger who was making weird hand movements at a fly. Because after all, every human being in the world, infant or elderly, Sardar or Mallu, knows deep within themselves, the inherent and unshakable knowledge, that the soul that lies within each one of us, is one and the same.

True stories - I saw her again today

True stories - I saw her again today

In June 2012, Girija Aunty, our help at ppd, like millions around the world, finally lost her battle to The Emperor of All Maladies..... for her in her uterus...

She was someone who had a happy childhood, a very pleasant marriage initially...until drinks got the better of her husband..... thus she had to resort of household jobs to feed her two children.... she worked as sweeper, maid servant, help at a hospital, storekeeper...almost any job she could physically do...even more than 5 years after she has been diagnosed of cancer.....which initially itself was labelled, incurable....

most of my relatives knew her, and my cousins have personally tasted her cooking...it was in all sense phenominal....i, being the irritant chori, only seldom mentioned it to her.... on the other hand, i nevr let her forget the time she added twice the amount of chilly powder, in our channa masala than she was supposed to....or the time she screwed up our fridge bottle by pouring hot water into it...or the time she almost burnt my dad by pouring boiling water into our regular drinking jug....or the time she made soup by mixing three seperate falvours of soup powder.... i never mentioned about her out of the world dosas... her terrific ullivadas and uzhunnu vadas.... her pazhampuris and her potato mezhukkupuratti which were the best in the world......I never complimented her when she won all admiration being the main cook at our place when mom was transferred to alleppey....or her countless hours behind the kitchen counter during my parents wedding anniversary or oppols marriage.....

Steve jobs had once said... "death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new"

my aunty was not old... she was 43. she was a widow, had a troubled kidney, cancer of the cervix, a stroke which paralysed her right side and gave up her life in a mere 43 years .... She continued working for 5 years after being diagnosed of terminal cancer, fighting through chemo, with a bandana tied stylishly to cover her bald head.....never did we hear her complain, never did we hear her ask, "why me??"  She just went on and on and on..... 

Girija Aunty, there is no reason to say this now...bcos now its too late....and u already know it.... I oppol achan and amma...loved u very much and enjoyed each and every moment with u...I wish we had many more years together...but better off for u, as u have finally freed urself from every ailment and obstacle and found peace....rest in peace aunty, love u lots.....yours, Kuttan.

Epilogue: August 2015. Today was my wedding reception. Girija Aunty's daughter chinju and son il law had come to bless us and be part of our celebration. Suddenly my attention was diverted to a movement of chinjus sari near her feet. There I saw a little girl. It was the most beautiful sight of my life. That little girl of 4 years, with big eyes and chubby cheeks was the exact replica of Girija Aunty, even at this age. I felt like I'm seeing my Aunty again, after sooo many years. I went down on my knees, next to the kid, tears dwelling up in my eyes and asked her, "Do you know me?". She didn't reply initially, half her face covered behind her moms sari. Slowly she said, "Kuttan uncle.....". Exactly the same voice as that of Girija Aunty, with that trivandrum slang and low pitch. I kissed her on the forehead and told her, "I know you too, I've seen you ever since I was a little kid." The kid looked clueless. They left the stage, the kid walking with that same straight, proud gait that Girija Aunty used to have and just before they turned the corner, the kid turned towards me and gave me the same toothless grin Girja Aunty gave me the last time I met her, before disappearing.

Where do people go when they die?? Answer is: They don't. They live on, in the hearts of people who care for them, and keep on appearing, in the strangest possible ways, before the people who love them.

True stories - smile

True stories - smile

The smallest of incidences shows us the spirit of the universe, how through both simple and complicated methods each and every living being is connected by the soul of this universe. Here's one example.

I was sipping on a double coffee in tuck shop and thinking of the dog menace in pgi. Somebody was joking about the racism between the dogs and how the white dogs were one group and were at constant barking battle with the group of black dogs. However one black dog seemed to be the leader of the predominantly-white-dog group. "Obama" that dog was lovingly called. But I could sense that the female predominant group that was discussing this issue, were deep down scared about the dog menace in PGI and was uneasy with the situation around the library. I observed that one of the guys were staunchly defending the dogs saying that they were very lovable creatures and are the only souls who love you unconditionally irrespective of whether you are rich, poor, successful, loser, fat, slim, ugly, beautiful, talkative or reserved. All that mattered to the dog was the love you gave it and it'll give its life to you. He was convincing and quoted numerous examples of faithful dog stories. I couldn't help but overhear, but I loved what I heard. Here's a true animal lover, one who understands the universe and its love, I thought.

One of the girls excused herself and stood up to leave and walked away. She was walking towards the library but was walking head turned towards her friends, waving, that she looked ahead only when she reached the cars parked in front to the library. Then she came face to face with the big black dog who sits in front of the library, the dog was trying to go in the other direction, towards tuck shop. Now there was hardly any space between the two vehicles and both the girl and the dog had entered the gap between the two cars. One of them surely had to back out to let the other go through. The girl was rooted to the spot, never been so close to any dog in her life. She was visibly scared out of her wits and from the distance I could see her trembling and the glint of her sweat in the evening sunlight. The scene froze for around 5 seconds, after which the dog slowly backed out, going in reverse until he was out of the gap. The lady scampered out of the narrow space but once out a safe distance, couldn't help but turn back and give the canine the sweetest of (relieved!!) smiles. The canine responded by wagging its tail vigorously, opening his mouth in glee and giving the tiniest of jumps, by raising his front paws. 

I don't think anybody else saw it, and I thought maybe the lady left the incident at that and forgot about it. Until yesterday I saw the same lady-dog pair, this time in a more open space, the dog was still wagging its tail and the lady, although skeptic about what she was doing, but somehow by some unknown internal force, dropped a biscuit near the dogs feet. The dog gobbled up the biscuit and came near the lady. I thought she was scared when she closed her eyes. But the pull of the universe lifted her arms and stroked the silky black dogs forehead, slowly once, then a couple of strokes quickly. The magic of the universe was gone and order was restored in a couple of seconds, when she lifted her hands, dropped the rest of the biscuits in front of the dog and scampered off inside the library. 

Did I see a glint of a tear when she passed me into the library? Maybe I did, maybe I imagined it, but now, this time, I knew she knew. Every living being in this universe, man or dog, infant or elderly, know deep within themselves, the inherent and unshakable knowledge, that the soul that lies within each one of us, is one and the same.

True stories - A Beautiful Mind

True stories - A Beautiful Mind

I always thought it was good to have a friend with whom I can share anything in the world, speak out my mind freely, who'll speak out his /her mind to me. Until I meet her. She's too crazy and painfully frank.

Sample this:

" It's good that your eyes are sunken, now nobody can see the dark circles around them..."

"You should lose some weight before your marriage. Coming to think about it, don't bother, anyways it'll not make a difference. Nobody's gonna notice you when you stand next to her."

"You know, in photos you don't seem as creepy as you normally look."

" Creepu.... (Notice the new annotation!!!) I think it's good that you are pretty dark complexioned. Now nobody will notice the dark circles around your eyes or your thick eyebrows. Nice way to camouflage..."

" I first thought it was weird, the way you walk, with your head held high and all.... Now after meeting you, I think it's alright. That's probably should be the least of your concerns when it comes to weirdness."

"You're the topper?? That's really lucky, man!!!"

"Is it a coffee stain you are cleaning off the table?? Or do you have an OCD about cleanliness?? Forget it, (giving me a head to toe stare) you don't have an OCD about cleanliness, that's for sure."

"Go and read that hematooncology or medical oncology whatever -cology you like reading.."

"Why do you look so dark??"

And many more. These are just the ones I could remember / note down in midst of my bewilderment.

So, in conclusion, finding a new intelligent (??) friend, who'll walk in the sandstorm with you, who'll enjoy getting wet in the rain just to grab a warm tea, who can discuss philosophy, life & death, sickness, sports, politics, books, movies, poems, romance and past experiences in the same tone, who'll bring you back to earth when you are elated and lift you up when you are low, is not really great if she's crazy and painfully frank. 

It is the most wonderful thing in the world.

True stories - chase

True stories - chase

Ever since I left home for Chd, I could always sense the happiness in the voice of Amma and eagerness to speak, whenever you call on her phone.

So, I was quite surprised as to why, early morning at 630, she was in a hurry to hang up the phone. I wasted no time in asking her.

"Today is Thursday...", she answered a bit sheepishly.

Ah! That settles it. Thursday is the day her favourite weekly magazine is released. She hangs around the door from around 6, gets restless and loiters around the front gate from 615-620. Once she even apparently <as dad likes to exaggerate> chased down the newspaper boy, tackling him from behind, pinning him on the ground, to get her hands on the weekly. 

Now I know why dad makes breakfast every Thursday.

#odichittupidichu

True stories - cousin

True stories  - cousin

There was this new hit movie released a couple of days back and as soon as the first boring class came up, 4 of us bunked it and flew on our bikes to the cinema.

Getting tickets just on time, we entered the theatre and were hurrying to our seats when my phone rang noisily. 

Cousin calling - it read. Picking up the phone I whispered, "What happened.?? Say fast, I'm in class."

C: " Class-ilo??? Chumma pulu adikyathede.....(don't lie) "

Me, sheepishly...." Yeah... I'm outside, in a theatre. How did you know??"

C: " Because I am also in for the same movie. Second last row. Mass bunk from CET!! "

Everybody in the theatre was curious as to why somebody from the second row, stood up gave a huge grin and thumbs up to the girl sitting with her friends in the back. 

#mycousinsrock

True stories - The man who saw the peacock smile.

True stories - The man who saw the peacock smile.

The worlds first democratic Communist government got elected in Kerala in 1953. Since then governments have come and gone but the communist in the Malayali remained (to the extent that we now have hoardings of Che Guevara wearing the lungi and shirt!!!). That sense of equality and brotherhood made us logical and compassionate in all issues including that of religion and God. But in the lives of everybody comes these incidences where you just know, that all this beauty that you see around us, can't just be some unmonitored evolution process....The beauty shakes us so violently that u realise that it can only be a person behind it all. You understand that this very small beautiful world around us and its evolution is just a Big Great Design.

He had only seen them from a distance. In the zoos, in the New doctors hostel, occasionally with the feathers spread, once even dancing in the soothing rain which came as a relief to the scorching heat of Chandigarh. But when he was on his way down to the boat jetty in Pawana lake he never expected to see a peacock on his way. But that's exactly what he saw, perched on the hand railing of a small bamboo bridge, feathers neatly tucked in. He had to cross the bridge to go ahead. The bridge was just one man wide and so his fiancée decided to take the long way around the bridge. He, somehow, wanted to see the peacock more close and continued onto the bridge. 

He noticed it was a very young peacock, colours glinting from an early morning drizzle. He also noticed (pointed out by his fiancée) that it had a sharp curved beak. If he were to pass the peacock perched in this position, he would have to get agonisingly close. So close that, all the peacock had to do was just bend and he would get bitten /stung. He slowly tread forward. By then the peacock had turned its neck, seen him and was following every move of his. Their eyes met. The peacock had deep black eyes bordered by greenish brown rim. He inched forward with no sudden movements, till he reached the middle of the bridge at level with the peacock, eyes still glued to each other. He was both excited and scared and somehow had this feeling that he was about to experience something divine. He wondered whether the peacock would spread his feathers and almost wished for it to happen when he realised how wonderful it would look at this proximity. Just after that thought, he somehow knew that the peacock understood what he was thinking, because exactly the next moment the peacock smiled. 
Nobody else would  see it and nobody would ever believe it, but he saw. He saw the muscles at the edge of the peacocks beak twitch. It straightened and in less than two seconds spread of its feathers. The spreading made a sound which reminded him of his dog shake drying itself after getting wet. He even felt a few drops of the morning drizzle from the feathers falling onto his face. The spread feathers were much much larger than he expected. In such close proximity it occupied his whole visual field that he couldn't see anything else. The sheer beauty of the sight made him numb, speechless, wide eyed and open mouthed. The extreme symmetry of the arrangement of the feathers, how each feather was exactly similar to the next one, the exact demarcations between green, gold and dark blue, shining from the effects of the morning drizzle. Time froze for eternity (30 seconds according to his fiancée) and then after what seemed like an open mouthed lifetime the peacock jumped back into its adjoining shallow enclosure, still maintaining eye contact, feathers spread. 
The eye contact broke after another 30s and the peacock started swinging from side to side as if showing off his feathers. He still couldn't move. His fiancée came up to the bridge thinking he was hurt or something, pulled him away, all the while asking him what had happened. He was not hearing anything that she said. Finally mortal worldly sense started returning and he was literally pulled down from his eternal divine trance. She was repeatedly asking him, "What happened to you, say something" and all he could blurt out was,

"I think I just saw God......"