The Rising TRP

Not a useless person entirely.

Few children known and unknown thought it a novel idea to come and say a "hello" to me on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

They  felt bored and had nothing else to do worthwhile so came in a gang to chitchat with me.

Anyway it was a sweet moment to cherish after reading the poem 'Middle Age 'by Kamala Das, which I have to teach the older children tomorrow.

In The Journey of Life - An Event

This is an experience  which happened many years ago.The experience which comes as a turning point. 

The ultimate proclamation to give legitimacy to a new born is the wish of every man and woman. 

The first look to ensure everything was in place as the tiny pink  bundle  with frail arms and peeling skin starts seeing the first rays of light. 

It was a tie between in laws to take the coveted place of giving the first sweet taste to the tongue. A lot of water has flown under the bridge..

A doting father spent countless hours singing lullabies .Alert waking hours to be at beck and call of the first born. The child was the world. This gave the woman temporary respite from postpartum blues.

Once upon a time those tiny hands entwined those brawny hands while taking the first baby steps and exploring  the world. Child does not  remain a child forever, it blossomed in full.Today, enabled to face the challenges of life independently. 

But sadly, the steps climbed  remain just a distant dream as  permanent amnesia has set in .

Today  strangers, perhaps of the growing years spent apart . Calls remain unanswered.Lines of communication closed. 

However, memories of yester years keep flashing .As what you resist always persists.

Tears swell.

  

“We make them cry who care for us,

We cry for those who never care for us,

And we care for those who will never cry for us.

This is the truth of life., its strange but true

Once you realise this, its never too late to change.”

Perhaps  time to move on.

Uncalibrated Vending Machine -Woman

Yesterday, I understood the fundas of a coin vending machine.  How nice load it , preset it and it is proxy for you. It is time saving. Select what you like and put the required coin.

Lo! It comes out gingalala .

Come at leisure, check for refilling and go about doing other chores at your pace.

It was then I realized of the uncalibrated vending machine in every home. The  multipurpose amma vending machine not only chore but also a coin dispensing one.No refilling , no presetting required. Value for money. Value curve increases but gradually comes down  with  wear and tear . No need to place orders. No trial period nor demonstration required as always on toetips.

Shocked!.

Go back and think of the number of times this  uncalibrated machine was refilled  and  replenished.Perhaps such questions are better left unasked and unanswered.

The first time the unaccounted hisaabs creased the  forehead because in  vending machines the profit is calculated before  orders are placed.

Time to make a change and move on / continue on the same unbeaten path?.

This also , is an amma fundas.

Sweet Surprise

I was fast asleep at home at about 5 in the evening after a day's teaching.When there was a bell and five tiny kids three girls and two boys were standing grinning at the door. Students of Class 2,4 and 5.

Maam tuition. I was taken back.

I had told one of these a boy who I spotted was good during the holidays, I offered to teach him in my spare time.For fear of coming alone he tagged along four others.
 I just stopped him in time otherwise by next evening I will have so many more. I was wondering what to do as I don't know how to take tuitions for students of different classes at the same time. I didn't have the heart to say No.

All the same I taught them and all of them went home happily.
I said bye and turned when a little voice said  how much fees?
I was shocked and surprised as I never thought in my dreams I could take tuitions.

Amma, Ma, Mammie,Mummy or Mom ?

God’s creation was in full swing when  came the turn of mothers. He made her completely adjustable with all parts replaceable to be in good  running condition till her end surviving on next to nothing or leftovers and blessing her with a wide smile to comfort her progeny, a broad  lap to hoist them during growing years, with no sense of time but  in all probability adjusting/ble to jungle laws. Always ready with a kiss as a panacea for all ills. Blessed with keen eyes to know what is going on behind closed doors, to see in them what others don’t and to see and forgive mistakes. When the call comes asking she dips into her begging bowl without hesitation till only roots remain. A life wasted foolishly  in modern jargon .Aches and pains were a part of life with auto healing when sick.

 Sadly no one  knows what she liked/disliked. These young’uns grew into full blown trees and in the name of modernity forget roots  and the most humble  values of life instilled  which would stand by  in their test of life.

Surely, you have absolutely no idea to what fathoms she can reach. She can think and reason and bring one up as no one else can. The sagging skin and the wrinkles remind her that old age has set in. A woman here and there thinks foolishly of the son in a fleeting moment, but the son has cast eyes on Eve forgetting what would have been devoid of  the love given in raising  him up.

An unborn child hears and feels the pain in its mother’s womb and will surely be affected by it.

I didn’t do anything at all. I am leading my life .Just come to think of how many hearts I have pained, and stunted the growth of an unborn child in the name of modernity.  

Children leave homes for better prospectus with new found partners. It seemed a cruel dream of happy families and laughter around.

Suddenly a tear rolls down her cheeks. It may be an expression of joy, sorrow, disappointment, pain, loneliness, grief, and pride. What it will bring no one knows.

O foolish progeny mend before it is too late as nothing goes unnoticed in this big wide world. Don’t call upon the wrath of god’s which you can’t escape for you will be razed to ashes.Remember as what is there in you is a part of me .

Break your shackles, drift away but the passage of time will tame and turn u around to  confirm.Liberation is just a matter for the foolish  youth.

What difference will  it make whether I am

Amma, Ma, Mammie,Mummy or Mom for you and me with the passage of time?

Capturing moments

I am not the proud owner of a Pug or a Doberman or a dachshund . Yet, I also felt like being the owner of the little stray pup one finds in the side lanes of many a street. I caught it by its neck and dragged it to a place near the entrance of a high rise building. The inmates of these apartments  considered it a luxury to take their leashed faithful for a walk  outside the sacred premises they stay in.These dogs pee in the open and the owners do not care as they believe in natural conservation of the soil. The morning routine done they get back into their cubicles with a repeat performance in the evenings. The owners  have tensed facial muscles as their grip is on  the leash. What a life to live for having a pet.

A young boy watches all this  everyday as he has nothing much to do. He has all the time in the world. No one to wait for him at home with hot food , or someone to say some loving words or the luxury to lie down  sprawled in front of a TV. A tiny place where four people stay  and  who find it hard to meet all ends.

 Since it was difficult to buy a dog leash of the choicest brand, he settled for the jute rope lying near the construction site. He pulled the pup with all his might to put a collar and take it  for a walk like his  posh neighbors do. He pulled, pushed to no avail, finally he scooped little doggie  up in his arms  and walked majestically as if he was the owner of some good breed.

Reflections

I walked into  the class and the children greeted me.We  got into the holiday mode of fun and games. Children were streaming in. The last of them was a little boy may be 8 years to be precise   had tears streaming down his face and he was pressing his temples hard as if in deep pain.
 I called and asked him what was  the matter. "I am having severe headache'.

Why what is the matter? I don't know".

What did you have for breakfast and he hung his head down in shame. It was not very difficult to understand that the boy was hungry.

Quickly we did a round of breathe in breathe out for relaxation for  the next five minutes .

The boy was given some money to go and buy a bun to eat. He came back promptly with a bun and the remaining change in hand. He returned the change.He finished his not so sumptuous breakfast while I remembered " breakfast like a king".

Quickly he rejoined the group.

How strange.

I reached home and found the breakfast untouched on the table.

Oh! to be mom

All emotions rolled into one individual.
No time to think right or wrong.Angry this sec, laughing the next leaving people confused around.
Teaching to hold tiny  feet to walk and  wrinkled hands to hold and clasp for comfort and security .
The joys are galore, no poet can capture it , as it is a feeling  that cannot be described appropriately , as thousands of feelings rolled into one.
The teething troubles , the growing years when they blossom onto handsome young men and women, your work does not end there. you are still wanted. Only that  words are not there as priorites change . empty nest syndrome sinks in.
 However waiting anxiously for a call or a visit, and in the process creating discrimination amongst the remaining siblings.
O what a fine baalncing act for a mom between kids and hubby and friends