Monday, December 19, 2011

Part-4....that never returns....

                                    

The schools were located at two- three kilometers away from the residence. Children from the neighbourhood converged at a convenient point before setting out for the school. The to and fro journey on own two-wheelers[ two legs] was much more interesting than any other fun. The sceneries and greeneries on the way, the stories from fellow walkers, petty eatables packed in paper bits etc. smoothed our movement to school through stony roads. The children carried their books  in their hands as bundles tied with broad rubber band. The boys took the support of  the shoulder where as the girls that of the loin just like village-women carried kids in journey. School bags with the children were very rare rather seldom, unlike today when even the play school inmates have to exhibit a camel like show.   


Fares and festivals were indeed wonderful, as they provided real mind- blowing curiosity to both the little ones and grownups. These occasions the siblings ,cousins, friends, relatives and neighbours celebrated in unison with a lot of spirit. Dip in the pond, new apparels, palatable plantain-leaf  feast etc. were some of the main features. Deep feeling of oneness and togetherness bound the children during celebrations. Onam being a distinct festival was attributed with  numerous activities for the kids and kiddies. Floral decorations  added magnificence to ‘Onam’. Girls moved round in search of flowers in village, swinging baskets in hands. The very thought of flower gathering made them come out of the bed with a bright countenance, even if  lazy  they were. Swing area was another point of charm. The heroic event of standing and touching high branches of the swing- supporting tree by expert ones, during swinging, was lucidly adventurous.

 Coming to cultivation sowing seeds , harvesting,  bundling, arranging , threshing, winnowing etc. of paddy crops enthused the children much. Songs and tunes hummed by reapers turned the atmosphere admirably lively. The little ones consumed all their might in troubling the workers, as their little limbs fell in everything and everywhere they came across. Besides all these actions, sleeping together on mats, spread on the floor of the quadrangle inside and falling down in its sandy ground, snatching the fish piece kept for the end part of the meal by some smart guys, catching small fish from pond in bath towels etc. had their significance.

Sights and scenes as currents of events flow to the computer’s monitor in the form of words and sentences. If I continue like this, the  conclusion will be far away from me. So now I would be away from the mouse of the computer. Sure the then children had a  joyous colourful childhood of very long duration. But our offspring had an adulthood of long duration from their childhood itself. The parents  stuffed their brains with academics to fulfill their aspirations and ambitions. Heavy load of books and works weakened their brawns.. They might not have saved much  in the memory ,so I don’t know whether  they can recall this much amount of infancy with this much cheer and pleasure. Let’s hope at least they may  not follow the foot prints of their parents in rearing their offspring. May the Almighty sprinkle the flowers of His blessings on all of them                                                
Sarala                                                                                                                       [Theend]


Part-3...that never returns....





 Infants toddled and prattled through the verandas and compounds, picking whatever came on the way, generating gleam in elders’ eyes. They bagged special attention practically nil from the guardians, since the children were not the kind of spoon-fed category. They availed  of more freedom than today’s child, who is more attention- seeking. And so they were  much more independent and self- reliant. Mostly the children used to get up, before the Sun came with his long sticks of rays to wake them up. Divine qualities such as obedience, discipline, honesty, affection etc tinted with sincerity ornamented the villagers and so also their children. Therefore a wind of an  unwritten law and order blew everywhere spreading the fragrance of simplicity..      

 Boys and girls, though had their own separate mode of amusement and recreation, not many games segregated them. So hardly had we formed any group for playing. Olichukali[hide and seek],adichechottam[race],king[catching and ousting one from the present round], kuzhippara[stones and pits],kallukothu[picking stones in the gap of another stone thrown up], and much more were among the items of entertainment. Vattu[marbles]and kuttiyum- kolum[a primitive form of cricket]filled the little male minds with thrill. Little-little magic hands turned  amazingly this way- that way, when various leaves ,nut-shells,  paper-bits, rope–pieces, cords, strings, even mud etc. got shaped into  toys and play things. Fights and quarrels[mostly verbal] had no dearth there, but lasted not long. Of course such habits are inherent or in-built in children.

 The thought of waking up at day break and running to the mango trees to collect the maximum number of mangoes occupied the little minds while going to the bed. Monsoon  days, bathed in heavy showers that covered the whole earth with water,amused the children. They either remained idle at home engaging in some indoor games, but not for long or galloped to the flowing water with paper boats. But a thud of falling mangoes induced vigour in them  and then within no time they were under the mango tree. Grandma’s winnowers became  umbrellas in children’s hands and  sticks jumped  into grandma’s hand.
                                                                                                                

Every house had one or more ponds that stole the children’s time a lot. Jumping, diving, swimming-direct, upside down, sideways,backwards- were some of the arts performed in the pond. Sometimes some plantain stems appeared in water for paddling games. Counting with a little bit cheating by one person for another remaining under water was carried out smoothly. Of course ample amount of pulling and pushing were the spices that made the water art interesting. These things went on endlessly till some elders voiced loudly. At the age of five itself all the children were at the track of swimming and not even a single child was there who hadn’t had mastery over the skill of swimming.

                                                                                                            [to be contd.]
Sarala                                                                                                             

Friday, November 18, 2011

part-2 .....that never returns...

                                           

Majority of the buildings were  typical village houses, befitting and fulfilling the little-little needs of the owners .The houses were mostly ‘Nalukettu’ with an open large quadrangle surrounded by spacious verandas. This sort of houses allowed free flow of fresh air and entry of sunlight in plenty. These houses had an annex exclusively meant for the cattle they kept. At least two bullocks, three or four milch cows and their calves regally enjoyed the special care as equal  as the children did. The elders as well as the children took pleasure in  fondling these cattle on their forehead and body. In fact they bowed before the master obedient enough, in order to get caressed. So everywhere one could smell the fragrance of bondage of oneness among the inhabitants of the houses and the village as a whole.

The  oxen  ploughed the fields and cows fed the children. And more over goats that produced nutritious milk, also had their place in some of the houses. They all blissfully grazed in the vacant lands and pastures, joyfully swinging the body. Cow-herds were entrusted with the care of  cattle, whereas  cow men shouldered the responsibility of milking cows. Mother Nature also had graced  the village with ample grasses and greens.    Besides these animals,  cats and hens  proudly occupied the interior of some of the houses. Dogs watched the houses as a reward for the shelter he obtained, though he wasn’t as fortunate as today’s ones. Today the dogs are VIP’s[very important pets] and hence they lead a royal life and their moving area is inside.

  Coming to know the person in me  ,who had her childhood in this paradise,  the C.D of the past time has to be played. The visuals of the early years of my infancy are not so vivid rather a bit blank only. As I view that of my  younger siblings and other younger ones, I assume that I had  had a similar profile. Almost all the childhoods of the neighbourhood resemble one another in the general mode of procuring their adulthood. So mostly I’ll walk through the path of  ‘we’ not ‘I’. Most of the families followed a joint family system and hence selfishness had no room over there. Since the family was not of nuclear type, the elder children took charge of the younger siblings, not necessarily the mother only. People from houses around extended their helping hands to a greater extent in domestics as well as child-rearing. They were not paid any cash, but they enjoyed meals like breakfast and lunch at various times in return. Of course celebrations like vishu , onam etc. were occasions which kept some money in their fist from the master’s pocket. In general the pecuniary circumstances of the villagers were not so good, yet they were contended with what they had.

sarala


Thursday, November 17, 2011

part-1…….that never returns….....

At times knowingly or unknowingly a procession of childhood memories creep into people' mind.I too am an example for that.And so is this write up titled ...
   
                         .... that never returns...



        Part -1

There are a good many things that never return in their original forms. The time that we spend, the food that we gulp, the objects that burn, the lives that expire etc. are a few of such things. There is one thing that everybody likes or rather loves to experience at least once more in life, but cannot, is nothing but our childhood. And that will never- never appear before us once more and that is a paradox which we have to go by. Yet sometimes we wish we were children without any wish for achievements and without any chains for movements. But we can have a voyage along with our mind through the seas of our good old days of getting patted and pampered .There will be none who have not reached the shore of sweet childhood, sailing in the ship of their memory. And so also is no different my case, as many a time, the childhood of mine, once pedaled in my beloved village,  registers its presence in the ledger of my leisure hours.

  Yes, now I’m there at the panorama of my village which is in  the south of India. The southernmost part of India contains a small corrugated leaf-like state called Kerala. The village with its picturesqueness steals the mind of its visitors as well as the dwellers. It was, yes, it was full of tall trees with swaying twigs and bushes with lots and lots of flowers{And now more or less concrete trees or jungles have displaced the very charm of our lovely village}. Butterflies and birds fluttered by and visited their favourite nectar storage to feast themselves sufficiently. That was indeed a colourful sight. Wells quenched the thirst of peasants, while ponds refreshed them after the day’s work. Fields grew grains in abundance and trees and plants yielded fruits and flowers in plenty. They dressed up in the apparels of three crops  annually, two turns of paddy and one turn of sesame or horticulture.  The cool breeze fanned the people in the hot sun. The sun never failed to attend to his duties and shone on all the stone pebbles and sand particles. The monsoons were real ambrosia for the villagers, as they awaited it, just like hornbills did for rains. Birds often turned to be great singers and sang melodious tunes for the villagers. They occupied  their seats in branches to watch coolly the things going on smoothly in their jurisdiction.. Nights also exhibited the luster and lure of her children-the moon and stars, whenever required.

 The land owners and the peasants kept a sincere bond of love and affection with each other. One could observe and feel a oneness between them. The peasants took care of the fields and cultivations whereas the masters cared for the workers’ welfare. Pretension had space seldom in the minds of both the giver and the taker. They understood the barriers that hindered each other and so they could overcome the difficulties with a combined endeavor. In general the occupants of my village possessed a light heart in hardships as well as prosperities because they had no sky breaking dreams or ambitions. Innocence and earnestness ruled the inhabitants’ minds as a whole.




For http://writetribe.com/my-earliest-memory/

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Preeta's Poem






             I had a loving niece, who had endeared herself to all her kith and kin by the way of both her deed and word. She was  an intellect whose thinking span was at a higher level. Her gait, looks, behaviour, manners and everything had a uniqueness that drew everybody’s attention. Alas! She is no more after the sweet age of twenty.  Though she fell into the clutches of malignancy, she left her footprints in the form of  numerous verses. Before publishing them  she had to depart from here. I would like to post some of them in the blog, as and when time permits . Most of her lines speak about love or nature. One of her poems goes thus…..[ I feel this poem is a prognostic.]
  Sarala

 
                                         A Sole Day

                                     Above is father
The heaven of peace
Below is earth
The maiden of trees
She has foibles
She faces ordeals.
But immune heaven
Has nothing bleary.
Minstrels of earth
Had much in count,
Nay, but the good
Has prayer, in spirit
‘A Sole Day’
To recline in peace
On Father in heaven
When will thee
Bestow your love?
Mine’s too an urge
A spotless day.


Preeta Nair


Sunday, November 6, 2011

letter-4
Osama and Obama
God only knows if Obama{I mean the U.S}was, much before, aware of the Hideouts of  the ‘Bin’ ‘Laden’[Bin Laden] with all the rubbish to inflict suffering on the innocent and helpless. Rather the U.S may even have approach towards the outfits of the Terrorists other than Osama.. When the time becomes ripe for them to exhibit the power which they desire to exercise on all other countries, they will perform some circus on the beastliness of the extremists. India easily falls into the coaxing of theirs and they take the maximum advantage out of it. Will India’s leaders wake up and work for the motherland or only pack their pockets for ten or more generations of their successors? This is what some people like us have felt,may be correct or may be wrong. Should the affected countries truly take measures to wipe off this evil ,the innocent mankind can heave a sigh of relief.
sarala

Monday, October 31, 2011

                  letter-3

                Governance in Kerala

 The election fair has come to a closure. The prominent among the victors have sworn in and occupied communal or political chairs. And now what is the main objective in front of them, is it personal or provincial? Those who were in the ministry many a time, should themselves elevate to chairs their followers, who own fresh knowledge and new ideas. The portfolios should be evenly and judiciously distributed among  the rulers so that the deprived ones get their say. For decades together, except on a few occasions, the Education ministry is in the hands of minorities who are in the forefront of everything in Kerala. So they are enriched with more than ninety percent of the educational institutions. Neither the Majority community nor the Congress party takes the needed steps to hold this important office.. Can we, the common mass expect clean governance by impeccable personalities and thus enjoy impartiality? It is the eleventh hour of Kerala being drowned in corruption. Hope the helping hands of some sensible persons will be extended at least at the twelfth hour to lift this state to safety.  

sarala

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

 letter-2           

Baba Ramdev- Genuineness?

We don’t know exactly whether Baba’s motive is enticing or encouraging the followers. But in his struggle of the situation,  in the viewer’s eyes he is in the path of unveiling
 the corruption. Corruption has taken strong roots in this soil,  as the big bosses of our country are manuring and nurturing this venomous plant. Even if Baba is not genuine in his mission the time and procedure of arresting him were solely brutal and barbarian. One cannot predict the aftermath of all these exercises. Only the days that will proceed can prove the veracity of all actions.
Sarala




  I used to write letters to editor for a ‘Daily’ which, by the mistake  of mine in timely sending or the lack of standard they expect, did not see the light. These were relevant to the social conditions prevalent at that time. So I thought of posting a few of them in my blog.                  
         Letter-1

       Bahujan Samajvadi Party

 I came across a photograph in the Hindu news paper today (page-10,May 30th). The picture depicts the fungi of slavery still sticking on Indians’ minds even after six decades of Independence. I really felt ashamed for being myself in the fraternity of  people who stoop down to any level to lick the leg of their leaders. And there are a few with folded hands as if they all were in front of a Godly Idol. The  leader Ms. Mayavati enjoys this drama with a tint of sarcasm on her lips. Ms.Mayawati is indeed  a politician who strives against and tides over adversities. Yet she promotes sycophancy, as she herself  considers that she is above everyone and everything. The party leaders ,may they be X or Y, should come down to the earth and feel the pulse of the common man. Will they work for the motherland instead of  playing ‘musical chair’ that helps them pack pecuniary packets meant for ten or more generations of their successors? Will the leaders scarcely encourage the art of coaxing and buttering? Only then our country can lift her head proudly.
 Sarala



Thursday, June 9, 2011

An Ideal Teacher!

       

An ideal teacher is idle never,
Not violent and silent ever,
Though the heart is even gloomy,
Always on face is only glory.

  Rise up the pupils in her hands holy,
And dim your sorrows if any, much coolly
Parents, you hold your heads very high,
For your wards will fly, wide in the sky.

A loving front of all the colleagues,
A lovely mother of children she guides.
For the  dangerous word ‘quarrel’,
She keeps no road in mind to travel.

Her selfless ‘self’ has a tremendous wealth,
A wealth of concern  for child, she helps.
The saving she makes in her account,
Nothing less than affection profound.

Children give her reverence much,
With a gesture of adoring the most.
Heavy-felt subjects turn to be light,
Through the teacher’s tongue so sweet.

‘Great’ is the accolade the parents award,
Really worthier than any other reward.
 The necklace ‘sincerity’ well suits her,
Since keeps she no sin in wallet, ever.

Though her hair in years  gets grey,
Ever remains  her hand in work, green.
Rays of smile that appear on her lips,
Wipe of the young ones’ all the lapses.

The voice is quite smooth and soft too,
Yet very firm and strong and smart.
Never she spares any rod in class,
That may spoil a child, alas!

Clouds of problems in life personal,
Affect in no way her duty official.
When she opens the safe of experience,
She can enjoy her hard work’s price.


                                          






Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Life !

                         LIFE

Life, O!,what are you? Could anyone say?
No, not a single person has told it well.
Sometimes it is smooth and soft
As a  lovely river, running slowly.

But sometimes! It is merely a roar
Pearcing harshly the ear of listener.
For someone life is calm and cool
 And for some others for work, a tool.

Some enjoy it as a soothing breeze,
For some a lightning burning things on the way.
And for some it is a summer shower
Blooming  the flora in colourful attire.

On some days it is a flood of tears
And some days it is fun and laughter.
Some find it as a dungeon with chains
And some use it as wings to fly freely.

Some feel it as a path to walk for bread
And for  some a treasure for pleasure.
Some people make it a shelter to rest
And some take it as a work spot so vast.

Some build it as a mansion of love,
Some create in it a hell of hatred.
Some turn it as a road tarred to travel
And for some a cocoon for penance.

Some cook it as a dish delicious for eating,
For some it as a chance apt for cheating.
Some change it, for success, into a venture
And some turn it into a matter of adventure.

Some mould it into a ware designed skillfully,
Some destroy it as a glass, into broken pieces.
For some people it is a reason for depression
And for some  medium of self –expression.

Sometimes it is a mountain to be conquered,
And sometimes a valley to be occupied.
But life is nothing other than all these
And it keeps on, as a wheel, rolling and rolling.

Always out of it, let your ‘self’ make the best,
 And allow never to be covered with rust.
Adopt steps that will lead you to be bold,
Reap you can then cent percent gold.









  









Saturday, April 16, 2011



TELECOM SCAM - A WAKE-UP CALL


India stands on the tip of a volcano which contains Lava of common man’s burning fury. The worshipful crusader Mr. Hasare has just struck a match stick on the box and any time it may grow into a big flame to gulp all the atrocities.. The support expressed by the mass is a paradigm in this entity. The corrupt politicians, the monstrous mafias, the brutal terrorists and all such ruffians and rowdies have kept within their clutches the economy of our country. This economy amounts to countless multiples of country’s actual currency. Whenever a scam arises, all sorts of actions leading to nothing will crop up and finally everyone will sleep under hibernation. Election is another white elephant which does not attach any value to honesty and patriotism. Rather money, muscle and community powers pocket the candidature. Ungainly freebies, baseless promises, black cash for votes, special lifts for minorities’ etc. determine the success of candidates. People of major community are treated as second class citizens here as they exhibit unity not. The malicious rulers and other members of the government make it a point to keep a divide among them at any cost. I don’t say that all the governing people are wicked. May be there some members having clean hands which are tightly fastened with the rope of others’ influence and indulgence. So if any scam not only the telecom one precipitates in the country’s affairs. it should be totally uprooted and all the atrocious men should be punished deservingly. All the citizens irrespective of religion or region should abide by the same civil law and enjoy the motherhood of this country equally. Otherwise a day may dawn when the furious youths will demolish all the illegal palaces erected by the greedy politicians at the sweat of common man. So it is the ripe time all people stood in unity and acted in unison.It is a very humble request to people with a true heart to teach a lesson to the inhuman human beings.


                                                                                                                       Saral

Sunday, April 3, 2011

THE CRY IN THE AIR!


       [TSUNAMI]

 Hark! What is that noise we heard?
Is it a mountain’s breaking sound?
Is it the sky that is falling down?
Oh! It is a floating wall that drowns.

It is indeed a dazzling sight,
Water is rising to a coconut’s height.
 Oh! It is Tsunami, the rolls of water,
Rolls, the mighty ocean’s waves.

Where are the ones that stood on the shore
Making merry with kith and kin?
God! The harbour waves swept them away
Without leaving any, whether young or old.

Screaches and cries resonated in the air,
Shrieks and screams echoed everywhere,
Rushing to vehicles  for life found there,
And rays of escape were felt nowhere.

Flood of blood reddened the sand,
Bodies of dead filled the  full ground,
Beauty of beach has totally disappeared,
Boundary of land is wholy submerged.

Look at that old man standing in numb,
What he can do now is just to stump
With heaviness in heart and tears in eyes
Witnessed he sadly his dear ones' loss.
  
Mansions and huts many, man had built,
Money abundantly, he had hoarded,
Reveries and dreams covetly, he had cherished
And articles in plenty, he had  relished.

Alas! All the items favourite were perished,
And the lives entire, the waves swallowed.
The sand with multi-hued texture vanished
And things found on the shore got deformed.
Siblings of some people faded out of sight,
The sense of some others was lost in fright,
Homeless, foodless and cashless they turned
And waited in vain for the dear ones to return.

Fear and panic silenced the surroundings,
Arising questions in the minds of survivors.
Temples and churches dissolved in water,
And mosques also escaped not, they did wither.

What is the meaning in fighting for wealth?
Your might and money will no way help,
Power and position will never give you lift,
When you fall into the ditch of death.

Obstacles ample may hinder you easily,
Spectacles of far sight may save you really,
This life in fact is a God-given gift,
Use it fruitfully, before, a dearth, it comes to.

                                                         Saral




Friday, March 11, 2011

Mother India Today!



 India , my mother is indeed wonderful
With full of breeze and splashing wind.
Hills and mountains of height very high

Guard her glamour without any harm.

Water sacred of Rivers, springs and seas
Prospers trees and bushes for her safety.
Scents of flowers and fruits everywhere spread
And please my mother’s children entire..

Gandhi,her great son had a great dream,
A dream filled with complete freedom.
Are we in truth independent?
O! Mother, we have free will nil.

Stand the rulers for their own policy
Carrying in carrier not any principle.
With currencies of corruptions in the pockets,
Dip they  their lip in lies and liquors.

Country remains no more of villagers,
Just it belongs to cruel villains.
Seeds of terrorism grow here fast,
Bombs in abundance fall here and blast.

Extremism waters the rivalry plants,
Creating covert havoc in places.
Lives of thousands leave this planet,
Wives of thousands lose their plans.

Little children with empty stomach
Wander here for food and bread.
Children rich from palatial abodes
Throw their eatables in ditches and drains.

Children’s celebration day in India
Pleases only the young of Haves.
The little sons of penniless ones
Stretch their hands for a coin in vain.

Vehicles costing lakhs and crores
Comfort the weights in silks and jewels
Bikes and cars carry the young in jeans
And lose they their sense even from teens.

Play their part well, drinks and Narcotics
And cheer youths’ minds in discotheque.
Looting and killing are the hobbies of the day
Shooting and stabbing follow on the way.

Steeling and pick pocketing travel in bus,
Snatching gold chain occurs at boarding.
Contagious ailments are the guests in slums,…….
The dwellers of this place, a lot, suffer.

Dollars, doctors though earn in millions
discard the destitute in  utter despair.
Flags of religions are hung on regions,
But flag of Nation burns in dejection.

Not a drop of courtesy we see,
Nor a ray of unity we feel.
Wickedness fills the heart of persons,
 And deception thrills the thoughts of people.

Where is ‘Ramrajya’ protecting rights,
A country devoid of terrible fights?
Sky-reaching preaching often we hear,
Practicing a bit, we don’t see at hand.

Still mother, you have sons a lot,
Who have attractive laurels brought
In fields of all kinds, like Science and fine arts,
And many spiritual and cultural acts.

The lining silver of cloud is very thin,
Mother, you weep with much deep pain.
May your children wipe fully your stain
And pray let us for the best to happen!


JAI HIND!
                                               Saral

Saturday, February 12, 2011

'Om!'

                                                              
   Om!
                                                              
He, who greatly I adore, he, who highly I revere,

He, who ardently I love and he, who I worship sacredly,

Eliminates the barriers I face, provides the bliss I yearn for,

 Clears the pavement I walk on, cares the family I belong to,

Grants the wishes I deserve, blesses with things I crave for,

 Fulfills the reveries I dream, brings the glory I look for,

Impels me to action from inertia, awakes me to light from dark,

Protects me to shade from heat, holds me to safety from danger,

Funnels me to courage from cowardice, leads me to shelter from theft,

Takes me to food from hunger, keeps me in health from ill health,

Drives me to virtues from vices, pushes me to alertness from ignorance,

Drags me to serenity from stress, slides me to glee from glum.

It’s me that prostrates before him; it is me that bows in front of him,

 It’s me that prays for his presence; it is me that pines for holding his hand.

 Oh! My lord, my beloved Ganesh; of my life, you are the guide

You are my spirit, you are my soul and you are my energy too.

It is you that lie here within me and it is you that to destination steer me,

And it is you that help me cover in completion all my mile stones,

It is you that through your compassion and concern channel my way.

 And it is you that pour in my lap comfort and peace ample

And it is you that forgive me, for in plenty own, apathy I may

And it is you that sees me in slumber comfy, when the day done.


  Sarala.