THE WRITER'S OATH !

.........When the block bug threatens to bite.......

I will look out of the window for ideas to write..

I will listen to the sound of the swaying of leaves

and the peals of laughter below the trees .

I will wonder why the sky is crystal clear 

when the met has predicted stormy weather.

...I will thence raise pertinent questions to clear my  doubt......

.....I  will interact , involve others , debate and laugh  aloud.....

I will read a page, stay vigilant and be well informed .

I will walk a mile,take a cue and write what I observed.

I  know that  brilliant ideas can pop up any moment.

Prudently,I'll make the  best  use of the present .

Using my intellect and without inputs from the net,

I'll be inspired to write on topics of my interest.

I will  certainly  not   succumb to any senseless  rumour.

Instead, I will hold on tight to my sense of humour.

I will scroll paper pages and enrich my knowledge.

I'll browse the net selectively and take the pledge.

“ I the writer,hereby responsibly do affirm ,

to the best of my abilities,I do confirm,

that the use of the pencil, pen and ink,

having been dispensed with forever,

in MS Word, I may type,
using fonts which I like.

Formatting and styling apart,

I may also use Word Art.

I may insert drawings, which are exclusively mine

where a need to acknowledge sources,will never arise.

Having said this,with tech to aid

and   an  open  real  window,
I will write in verse or prose

and  express  my  thoughts

 in  a  style  unique  to  me ,

 without any meter,data or wifi.

YASHODA KAY LAL.........GOKUL ! GOPAL !

Yashoda stared in disbelief."You will not do that, I hope you can understand, my little boy." she chided Gokul rather firmly.The little prankster was a hyperactive kid and kept Yashoda on her toes all day long.

I am not going to tolerate all this any more, saying she rushed to drag him into the room and to her utter dismay, before she could reach him, the lad hurriedly grabbed the pair of shoes lying nearby and flung it outside, from the third floor balcony.

Yashoda and Nandakumar with their two children lived in a double bedroom flat on the third floor of the Bank Officers flats in Chennai.

As Gopal grinned mischievously, a seemingly innocent Gokul emerged out of the balcony. Yashoda was in tears and her little boys were jumping with glee..

"This is just one of the pranks that my boys are upto anytime of the day," remarked Yashoda. "I keep a close watch and I am always alert," she said. "They are blessed with a mechanical bent of mind, remarked the mother " and so I have placed most of my household appliances out of their reach," she added.

This is an excerpt of a conversation, when Kirti had met Yashoda a few years ago.

"It is very difficult and yet pleasures of motherhood ,Aaaha ! " she had exclaimed. " I love them. I get wild sometimes. I lose my temper but when I see them sleep, I forget that the brats turn each day into a nightmare and then I repent for my deeds. Their innocent faces melts my heart. Oh my dear Kirti. My ladoos are heaven's blessings and I cannot thank the almighty enough" she told Kirti who was all ears....

"Oh ! please ! Tell me more of their antics"...Kirti insisted....

Kirti and Yashoda had studied in school together and had parted ways after college. The first among the two to get married, Kirti had moved to Switzerland with her husband. In the meantime Yashoda had joined a nationalised bank as a Probationary officer. The two friends kept in touch and long before social media was to unite long lost friends, these two chums were always a phone call away from one another.

When Yashoda's marriage was fixed to Nandakumar, Kirti flew all the way from Switzerland to be with her best friend on her special day. Theirs was a love marriage. Nandakumar was a bank officer too and when he proposed to her, Yashoda could not refuse.

Post the wedding Kirti returned to Switzerland and got busy with her academics. She was pursuing her Phd in Molecular Biology. Her husband Vrishabanu Kumar a MD in Community Medicine worked at the WHO headquarters in Geneva.

When her twin boys were ten years old, Yashoda and her husband Nanda Kumar, were posted on an overseas assignment. Kirti and Yashoda continued to be in touch and wished one another on all occasions. They would exchange information about the activities of their kids and Yashoda would always say ,"Oh ! Thankfully my boys seem to be mellowing down with age" How are your pretty girls ? Kirti.."You are blessed," saying Yashoda would burst out laughing.

Kirti and Nandakumar were indeed blessed with twin daughters Rukmini and Sathyabhama...

The best friends had so much in common and life had blessed them with twins. Boys for Yashoda and girls for Kirti....Not a single day passed without one thinking of the other and how much they were grateful for everything in life...

Though the deputation to USA was initially for a period of one year, the husband wife duo of Yashoda and Nandakumar went on to serve an extended deputation period of more than fifteen years in several branches of the bank across different countries.

With both Kirti and Yashoda busy in their respective family commitments and careers, personal chats started taking a backseat and slowly they lost touch with one another. Vrishabanu was on a high profile assignment and his job entailed frequent postings across the globe. Before she moved to HongKong, Yashoda had tried to contact Kirti but by then she had left Geneva.

After a gap of twenty years, they chanced to bump into one another by sheer coincidence at a wedding function in Chennai . Both were thrilled. Their joy knew no bounds. The two school buddies were highly ecstatic. They embraced each other even as Vrishabhanu and Nandakumar looked on silently. As they say separation makes hearts grow fonder and the two who were always in each others thoughts were never really away from one another.

It was a pleasant surprise. The girls now women past fifty were excited as ever and Kirti was on cloud nine. She had spotted Yashoda first. Slowly, approaching her from her back....Kirti came close to her, brought her hands around Yashoda and closed her eyes with her palms.

"Can you say who this is ?" Kirti whispered into Yashoda's ears. Yashoda was taken by surprise. Yet ! Kirti was her best friend and how could she ever forget her voice. Yashoda was quick to identify Kirti...Instantly she retorted back " Hey! This is my dearest friend Kirti" and she cried out in ecstasy....

"Oh ! How come you are here ?' Kirti asked her. 

"We are on the verge of retirement and posted back to Chennai ," Yashoda replied and so in the process of shifting ." she added. 

"How are your little boys ?" Kirti went on to ask. "Oh ! They are fine, grown up to be six footers," saying Yashoda pointed her finger towards the two tall handsome boys standing in one corner of the hall.

Kirti was taken aback..."Who they ? The two boys in the Red Kurta ? they...your boys Yashoda ? ".Yes Indeed Kirti, "replied Yashoda As the best friends chatted on, the boys moved towards them. Yashoda introduced them. "Hey Kirti... Please meet my sons Gopal and Gokul. They are twenty three years old." The boys greeted Kirti with folded hands and bowed to her in respect. Kirti was highly impressed. 

Kirti was still in a state of disbelief ,but extremely happy to meet them as her eyes searched for her daughters Rukmini and Sathyabhama who had mingled in the crowd.

Recalling memories, the two buddies laughed hysterically and it was unexpected fun unlimited. The boys were cheerful too just like the mother. Infact a carbon copy of the mom. Continuing with the intro Yashosa went on to say..". Gopal is an aeronautical engineer and Gokul is a doctor doing his internship. "What are your girls doing ?"..she asked...

"Please give me your address " Kirti told Yashoda. We have to stay in touch..come what may "..she added. Immediately Gopal took out a pen from his kurta pocket, brought out a paper and started writing with his left hand...."Is he left handed just like you ? Kirti asked Yashoda..."Oh ! Yes ! and Gokul is right handed like his father.

The boys have taken after me in their looks and their Dad in their behaviour...Yashoda added with a great sense of pride....

So here comes the twist in the story.....

Nature never ceased to amaze her and yet when Kirti came across the boys after so many years she was surprisedly stunned too. She was fully aware. Yet ! it was difficult for her to accept. How could it be ? she had thought unto herself.

This is freaking magical. Absolutely divine. Strange are the ways of the Lord. The boys are not Yashoda's own sons and yet they are a splitting image of the mother.The way they speak, the mannerisms only seem to suggest that they are the biological children. Amazed and too surprised to even react, Kirti stared at them in disbelief. The strapping young lads were too good looking and Kirti couldn't get her eyes off them.

Many years back when Yashoda had been diagnosed with uterine cancer she had to be operated for removal of the tumour. She had been married just for a year .Her husband and the entire family had stood by her like a rock. A crestfallen Yashoda seeing dreams being shattered in front of her eyes had wept inconsolably and that was when Nandakumar had consoled her saying that all was not lost and they could still adopt and have children to call as their own....

Very soon the couple adopted twin boys aged three years old and named them Gopal and Gokul.

At that time Kirti was very happy for her friend. Meanwhile in her parents home at Chennai, Kirti was awaiting her D Day. It was past full term and the ultra sound examination earlier in the sixth month of her pregnancy had showed twins. A couple of days later, Kirti gave birth to two bonny baby girls. Yashoda and her boys had come to the nursing home to meet Kirti. The boys had pleaded with their mother to take the babies in their arms...Unable to manage their nagging and pestering, Yashoda had to take leave soon...

Now after two decades, time seemed to have stood still...It took them back by 20 years. Draped in a Kancheevaram pattu saree, Yashoda was a picture of grace and poise. Kirti in a sparkling silk cotton exuded charm and confidence with the grey streaks in her hair adding to give her a dignified look.

Yashoda still looks pretty young...Kirti thought....or perhaps she dyes her hair, she was thinking nearly aloud, unable to take her gaze off the pretty face. Her hair tied in a French plait, Yashoda indeed looked lovely...

The persona of the boys revealed all the traits of Yashoda. Yashoda had adopted them as three year olds and Kirti was fully aware of that....

This is not the only case of adoption that she knew amongst her close circle of family and friends. What amazed her was the tremendous parent child resemblance and bonding in this particular relationship in the absence of the umblical link.

Engaged in hilarious banter, the foursome...Rukmini, Sathyabhama, Gopal and Gokul were seen to be very friendly, moving around comfortably with family and friends even as people around  were enquiring rather curiously. " Whose children are they ? The girls are pretty and the boys dashing...Identical twins huh ?"

"They make a cute foursome..Don't they ?" a young woman was heard telling her mother...The twins were a tad bit embarassed and the parents chuckled with pride....

The next gen was coming of age. Nicetys and compliments exchanged, mutually admiring one another, the four head turners headed towards the dining hall.......

All characters are fictitious and bear no resemblance to any person living or dead !

KEEP THE SUNSHINE IN !

A Wedding anniversary is a milestone,

each more special than the previous one.

The first is precious,

and second a treasure.

Third is for growing more in love.

and fourth to understand each other.

Fifth to learn from one another.

and sixth to accept each other.

Seventh to let go and yet be together.

The Eighth to understand and know

that problems are challenges

to cross and once the bridge is behind

the path is clear.

coz when the goal is one

victory is certain.

Ninth and the bond got stronger.

Mutual commitments the key to success.

Tenth and lady love stays at the helm.

Eleventh onwards they are best friends forever.

Twelfth, a reminder to remember the special day.

Thirteenth for more love and care for one another,

in the midst of tiffs and squabbles.

Fourteenth for each to realise,

that one cannot do without the other.

Fifteenth to invoke more blessings,

from elders and the almighty above.

Sixteenth in jubiliation of a relationship

that has stood the test of time.

Seventeenth to cherish fondly and look back

at memories of love which brought them together.

Eighteenth to keep thanking God for the friendship,

that survived many a storm and a hardship.

Nineteenth to look up to the heavens in gratitude.

Twentieth to honour, coz it was made in heaven.

Twentyfirst and not yet half way to vintage.

Twenty second, the love was still blooming with age.

Twentythird and prayers for a smooth sail.

Twentyfourth to acknowledge contributions

with a sense of great satisfaction.

Twentyfifth to rejoice with friends and family.

Twentysixth to wonder how fast indeed time can fly !

Twentyseventh in dignity to complement one another

Twenteighth majestic, a toast to the couple who look great together.

Twentyninth and rocking, on and off a roller coaster.

Thirteeth onwards, to celebrate the imperfection

and to revere them with respect as "The Perfect Couple"

To be continued...............................................

Sibling Love and A Mother's Recipe !

“What are you making for us, Amma?”a curious Nayaki asked her mother Vijaya.

I am making a yummy dish for the two of you she said.”

“Ooooh, what is it? Is it sandwiches and omlette?!”little Nayaki asked her mother as she grinned sheepishly knowing pretty well that the orthodox mom would rather keep the little mouths hungry rather than feed them on eggs. 

Subbu was a sporting Dad. He reprimanded his wife Vijaya often, rather lovingly, chiding her to give in to his little girl's whims and fancies..

"Do what you wish to !" Vijaya would retort back once in a blue moon.

It was the year 1975. Subbu and Vijaya lived in Kolkata with their two sweet children…Nayaki 10 and Ambi 5 years old.

The mom daughter conversation continued and yet Vijaya was very much focused on her work. Her fingers moved deftly and as she stirred the contents of the bowl, Nayaki was getting more curious..

"Oh ! What’s it that you are making for us Amma?" She pestered her mother and cribbed...

"I am hungry, amma"..saying she ran into her study room. It was midsummer, a warm Sunday morning and past breakfast time.

"Sweetie ! Kannamma ! Come here my dear. Breakfast is nearly ready," Vijaya called out to her little girl.

In a loud but loving voice…she repeated…."It is healthy, it's special. It’s something Grandma is not too adept at making." Can you guess my dear, said Vijaya before breaking into laughter

Grandmother Kannamani was away on her annual holiday to her native village near Villupuram and Vijaya had donned the temporary role of the official cook of the Iyer family.

Hearing her mother call out, Nayaki came running back into the kitchen.

The family of four lived in a two bedroomed second floor flat on R B Avenue…As was the practice as much as possible, they dined together and  sat down on the floor to eat. Eating times were fun times when amma served with love and the rest  helped in passing around the dishes.

“Can I help?' asked Nayaki.

"Can I pour the stuff into the bowl? Mom let  me pour the stuff into the bowl.  I have washed my hands." she said…Vijaya was a cleanliness freak..Oh! My ! the septuagenarian is still obsessed with hygiene…

Vijaya would oil her little girl's hair, comb and put her hair in a high ponytail.

Nayakui used to wonder…"Oh ! Why does amma have to do this to me whenever I am hungry ?"

Hmmmm. You don’t have to..I cant trust you…Where have you been ? Colouring with crayons..Uh ?” a doting mother spoke much lovingly .

“Okay, I’ll leave it to you , "Nayaki replied with a huff.  "This is so much fun!" she said.

"What’s that, what are you doing now?” Amma dearest.

“Chopping onion and chillies, dear" amma replied.

“Cool, that’s cool. What else do you have? I see butter, is that the natural unsalted home made butter ?”

“Yes.”my dear…..Vijaya looked and smiled at her baby…Her little girl was growing up fast…

“Mom let me stir this…Is this curd ? and before I can taste the final dish can I have a small cup of curd please ?"…Nayaki loved milk and curd. And what’s that?” Nayaki went on to ask her mother.....even as she was puzzled....

Her dad made the best omlettes but he never used curd or milk..."Strange are the ways of amma,"...she thought...

“This is milk. Listen, once I am done with this work, you are going to have this without complaining…”Right my dear”, a stern loving mother  Vijaya was heard telling her daughter Nayaki.

And all the while Ambi thambi was a silent specatator, too busy to get involved as new ideas were brewing in his naughty mind….

"Please don’t- don’t tell amma," he had told his elder sis…just a little while ago…." I used it, okay?”

Nayaki was waiting for an opportunity to spill the beans and ensure that thambu got a good scolding.  Thambu was always landing her in trouble.

She was  hungry. "The complaint can wait."…she told herself." Let me fill my tummy first and later with a clear mind, I can complain about bro to amma ." She waited patiently....Eggs were still out of her sight....

In the meantime, Vijaya came out of the kitchen with a bowl which contained water. Slowly she poured the greyish pearlish coloured water into another container.

Ma…what’s left in the vessel ?….an innocent Nayaki, asked her mother

With a broad beam on her face, Vijaya replied…"That is yesterday’s left over cooked rice my dear, " saying she mashed the rice well with her hands, added a glass of thick milk, a bowl of thickly set curd and mixed the rice well. She added the finely chopped onion and chillies, butter and salt to taste even as Nayaki looked on in disbelief…The tempering done in fresh ghee, curd rice was ready to be served.

"No…this cannot be my breakfast, screamed the little girl..."No Amma...This is not fair," she cried much to the glee of a younger brother who looked on innocently. Nayaki shut her eyes tight to make sure that she was asleep and this was only a dream...

Alas it was only too real as she heard her mother's voice again..."Ambi…Come here my boy,"….Vijaya called out to her son..

With visions of toast butter and omlette clearly in front of her eyes, Nayaki sat down, disbelievingly with her mouth wide open. Vijaya slowly and lovingly placed the first urundai of pisinja payaethu thayiru sadham ( curd rice prepared from the previous day's left over rice) into Nayaki’s mouth……With her mouth sealed and tummy soon to be filled pondering on Omlettes whether maybe next Sunday or not, Nayaki swallowed the rice balls with much difficulty....She was an obedient child...

  

 Forty years hence...nothing has changed much on the milk and the curd front. Nayaki, no longer an eggetarian, seated on the floor with cousins, inherent traits remaining the same, yet another chat session was coming alive with renewed energy and the same enthusiasm……..

“Ambi, what are you doing?Just you wait till I catch ya " Nayaki was heard yelling at her brother. "Are you taking a picture of amma giving the thayir sadham urundai(ball of curd rice)  in my hand and  don’t tell me now that you have already sent it to our family groups on Whatsapp?!” exclaimed a furious fifty something young woman.

"Just you wait, six footer fella till I post yours…of amma feeding straight into your mouth. Let me tag you with the pics of curd mulagai, green mulagai ( Mulagai is chilly)…and the kadugu (mustard seeds) and the ginger and the kothamalli…Just you wait till I make a collage and I upload it for the public to see right on your FB Timeline…..!”

MILAGU RASAM AND FORTY WINKS !!!!!!!

The better days are nearly gone and I am still unable to think..Oh ! What a pity ! A week is almost gone without any literary pursuit..Oh ! What a pity.

The morning cuppa was just right.The second was good and the third one was by far the best...Yet ! an upper storey,failed to light up and remained plagued in darkness...

I have to admit that my maid motivates me to work.So when she is around,I am brisk and active and when she leaves,that's when a sense of completion overwhelms me and I am free to think..

It was 7AM,I pulled the curtains to let the morning ray of sunshine in.I had not overslept...It was intentional. I was making the most of a well deserved national holiday. As I lay awake, I made up my mind to work hard, really hard, so that I would be able to think....

So,I pulled out the bedspreads, the pillow covers and the cushion covers. Straight they went into the washing machine. The bed ,the pillows and the cushions got a new makeover and I was pleased. I paused to think.Have I been able to think ?...

"No! Not yet my dear," said an inner voice..

Unperturbed, I went about ,on not so routine chores...The kitchen is the best place to be in, when in search of new ideas. So I got into familiar territory. MTR's Rava idli is good, fast to cook and good to eat.With breakfast done, and no headway into new thoughts, I continued undeterred..

I checked the provisions available..The filled glass bottles and the Tupperware are proof of sufficient stock.A sense of contentment overpowered me and I was pleased. The sparkling stainless vessels are an indication of Tambrahm power and so powerful I feel...The tamarind,salt and pickles occupy their much deserved position in the porcelain jars...AAh ! That's indeed gratifying....and should empower me to have a taste of my own writing......So i thinketh......

I moved from the cellar to the altar..I cleaned the silverware with vibhuti ,and scrubbed the bronze and brassware with tamarind…I wiped the photos,drew the daily kolams and lit the oil lamp...I prayed to the Gods for the gift of creative thought,so that I could think...think well ,so that I could write and write at my best so that my happy hormones could be elevated….badly need them for the months ahead.

The lunch preparation began with a bang...The safety valve in the tiny pressure cooker went bust...I was not going to be worried anyway...A long association in a joint family has also helped to retain,procure and stock all that I need and all that I don't ,in multiples of two and more,so that cooking continues uninterrupted…The menu is Capsicum sambhar, Kovakkai curry, Milagu rasam and Thenga Thugaiyal.....

Lunch is also done…..My Godmother Maya Devi made her presence felt in the fleeting moments when she mopped the floor and washed the utensils. Home is where the heart is…Home is where the tiffs begin and end. Home is where occupation begins with preoccupation…Home is where laughter is interspersed with tears…Home is where you long to be in when you are out and out when you are in…Home is where relationships stand the test of time and are not strained by silly angst within……..

So ! in the midst of squabbles and the tiffs, in between kisses and hugs, when the hungry mouths are fed,when the God mother has left with a promise to be back tomorrow, when the forty winks will run to a couple of hours…that is when I am inspired to think….

and so signing off as Hitachi says...Inspire Next....:-)