The Year Ahead!

May we be hallowed!

 In the year ahead,

Full of dreams to be true

And hopes to be gratified.

Forgive them, we shall, if we,

Have identified doers of wrong,

For seldom in their views,

They have committed flaws.

Erase let’s, the thoughts,

That are there if,

Haunting our quiet,

And hunting our health.

Towards the Past,

A tour to undo

The blunder of our deed

Is indeed unfeasible.

 Swear we will to tread
forward and trot to Future

As events are there
 For long to wait for us.

Incidents will paddle,

Our life through the mode

Destined for us, lurking
Nil for our nod or denial.

May the year new

Pack in us vigour fresh

 For our yen novel

To be accomplished.

So, dear bygone year,

We gleefully bid you adieu

And welcome with warmth

Your sibling waiting ahead..

‘May you all have really a joyful fresh year,

And may it be Time-fresh’.

Adieu for one month due to personal reasons.

Sarala.

Gift!

 Gift of God!

 Mother Earth is full of

God-given gifts; flora, fauna, celestials,

Water, wind and sapient man.

Our life on this sacred

Sand is an award from Nature.

Its bliss let us sip.

Our life is a gift.

Start its odyssey we, when,

Ecstasy He will shower.

Our merciful  heart and
Helping hand are real boon to
Needy, a soothing effect.

sarala

A Blessing in Disguise!

 How long can an adolescent boy confine himself inside? Gopal’s limbs sauntered around. One day his frequent visitor convulsion violently threw his physique to drains over-flooded with rains.

All the medical aids failed. When the carcass arrived there, his beloved mother’s colossal grief made her collapse. No word could stop her angst.

 Days brought calm. Balmy air slowly blew in. Her inner man brought her attention to the other offspring and her grieving spouse.

 “The incurable disease has seized our darling. Ha! He has attained the painless world,” sighed she, consoling others and herself.

Is it a ‘Blessing in Disguise’?

http://  /100-words-saturday-11/

Dew!

                                                                       

Mother Earth weeps very deep,

For her sons injure her hard,

Tear-drops on visage.

Mother Earth,in volition,

Shoulders all the beings’ weights.                               

She wields and sweats.

Mother Earth, bejewelled

With trendy precious stones looks prettified.

Beaming Sun looks on.

Earth sleeps with dreams under

Stone-adorned blanket ; mother Nature

Switches on dim light.

Dew drops of comments

Looming on leaves of posts, add

Vim and vigor in blogging.

sarala

For  http://haiku-heights.blogspot.in/

The Supreme Book!

The Supreme Book!

The supreme book, your Life,

 script you in this world 
is  your own very nature,

displaying various epochs
 you watch and may linger
 on you in permanence or 
lie with you in dominance.

 You, yourself script in this book,

 your autograph and biography;

the entire bal­­­­­­­­­­­lads in form poesy

Or odes or even verses inscribed

 With a device discernible not,

The ink you use is not been seen

And on papers not visible.

This book, while you ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­open,

you will find experiences, 

 misfortunes and fortunes.

challenges and adventures

excavations and explorations and

very facts and fiction, may they
bring you, negation or affirmation.

Your caricature you etch in it
maybe attraction or repulsion,
no matter what you go with,  
Your vigour, you spend rightfully
to script it virtuously, turn it for gain
and eventually become you can
your own mentor and anchor.   

Try never to tear it into tatters 

Nor scatter the leaves around.

Maintain this book always intact

For your following cohorts will learn

lessons, forming guiding light
in their travel areas,  when shuddering
their journey in dips and pits.

 Forhttp://writetribe.com/books-day-3-festival-words-2/

Rivulet!

Rivers, rivulets and streams

 Are roving nomads on earth.

Where do they  then reach?

 

Rivers and rivulets, the

Veins and arteries cart blood to

Mother Earth’s organs.

Plants and sand, parched

And thirsty, beg for water, rivulets

Readily quench their thirst.

Glumness saddens mind.

Rivulets and burns drench the cheeks.

Soothing strokes solace.

Sarala.

http://haiku-heights.blogspot.in/

Food

(Today I scribbled something based on the seed of food. So I thought of linking it to write tribe, though the stipulated day is over).

 Food is God!

                  

‘To a man with empty stomach, food is God.’ Mahatma Gandhi.

 A famished man thinks of only inserting something into his stomach rather than collecting delight from others.  No theory fills his belly, when his stomach covets shoddily for food. So he turns a locked ear to any philosophy.

Once when I was in a city bus, one seat, unnoticed by passengers, covertly invited me to it. I could accept the invitation of the seat, regardless of the crowd in it. One more person could sit beside me. I thought of attracting another person’s attention. But my attention left me and went out to watch the trees and building structures flashing past the bus. 

 Out of the blue a large, round aluminium vessel containing fish came skating near me. No sooner  did I look up in bewilderment than its owner jumped and sat by my side. She passed a challenging sight with the rightful shrug in it.

The presence of that person, her vessel, its smell and all enraged me. My ego was provoking me to ­­­­­poke my nose into her action. My intolerance and infuriating state grew to heights, as she exerted her pressure on me and pressed me against the wall of the bus. She made herself comfy there.

  Somehow with much difficulty ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­ I managed to settle my ego by bringing forth my reason. It reminded me, “They have also equal privileges that you benefit from here. Moreover what you utter may fade in front of their barbaric words.”

My reason further advanced towards me, “Better you hold her on conversation so that she will hold back from hampering you.”

I silenced my ego in the inner chamber of my heart and my tongue vibrated with fabricated gentleness.

 “Did you vend all your fish today?”

A surprising gaze welcomed me, “No, I am going to the suburbs and there I can sell all my fish.” The words were garnished with reverence. I watched a melancholic shade displacing the impertinence on the face.

“Do you usually keep a portion of fish for your cuisine?”

“Oh! No, not at all, because, you know, I have to clean it for the buyers. Otherwise they will not address me. I will reach home late after procuring our groceries for the day. In fact I have to utilize the profit for the essentials of the house.”

“Who are you staying with?”

“My ailing husband and two offspring.”

“Do the kids go to school?”

“Yes, they are reading in class-2 and class-4.”

The bus was about to reach my stop. I handed over some cash to her in the name of the diminutives. Though I doubted its approval, her need in paucity pushed her to stretch the hand.

“You are the one who is barbaric, not her. Didn’t the awe-bearing sound of hers divulge the golden heart caged in her chest? It stands entirely for the welfare of her family.”My mind rebuked me.

The mask of ruggedness she had to wear was to tear away all the barriers. Poor woman, what a heavy load on her shoulders! Alas! Even when mother is a fisher-woman, children taste fish nil.

sarala   For http://writetribe.com/food-food/ 

Rainbow!

  

Who steels God’s colour set?

Nature, to draw dainty lines and

Picturesque scenery. 

Looks sweet, the lass, cloud

In neck- band of cute tones, Sun

Sights his love with lust.

What Rainbow does there?

Stoops and peeps she, through the clouds.

Sun smiles from beneath.

The God fixes strip of 

Rich hues, on the attire, cloud.

He gifts it to sky.

Arrays, adored in rainbow

Tinges attract gals’ attention sure.

Those prints make them proud.

sarala

For http://haiku-heights.blogspot.in/

My Sister!

“Why can’t I get the retaining wall built here?” thought Leela.  “ The soil of that area erodes a lot in heavy rains. It plunges into the paddy field.”

 She,my sister Leela had gone to her indigenous village on a vacation. She visited her land obtained in legacy. Quickly she made arrangements for assigning the work to some labourers.

She stood there enjoying the swinging of spades, shovels etc in the hands of workers. The earth moved and moved and stuck on the construction wall. Then suddenly a small uneasiness-we can’t call it a pain-loomed as an unsought guest in her right arm-pit. She neglected it as if the result of straining after her objective.

Since it was not given its deserving attention, it made its presence more felt. She pulled on till the tag end of her motive. She couldn't help seeking advice from a doctor; she had to fly to her present habitat in Delhi. Tests and examinations revealed a growth inside. Her hay days had been exhausting. Hospital-home, home-hospital she travelled intensely. Surgery, injections, biopsy, chemo, medicines and all such usual events mercilessly rode on her body.

 Due information reached the nearest and dearest. I, her sister, started dragging a pull-over of emotions and feelings on my mind. She, my sister was no doubt loving and lovable, simple and straight and efficient and self-reliant. Humbleness and humility was her masterpiece in behavior. She could hurt none through her talks or actions. Helping others in need never had any tint of reluctance. Volition was the title of all her deeds.

She was a capable cook, an expert tailor and a proficient housekeeper of her own domicile. She felt gleeful in the company of kith and kin and served them opulent food. But she never allowed others to come home to her at the fullest.

In our childhood days we had a good many amusements which the diminutives experience in general and village kids in particular. She used to iron the garbs of both of us, since I had no hesitation to wear them creased. We, the children dawdled in the vast and natural garden and orchard, plucking flowers and picking fruit.

My obstinacy and tenacity invited rigorous punishment from elders which soaked her little heart. She consoled me with soothes and strokes of affection abundant. Delay to the school due to my doggedness earned her also, punishment from teachers. My beloved acca(elder sister)  never frowned or mopped at me. Unlike the sluggishness dwelt in me, she used up her childhood in the upkeep of the house and households. I don’t claim that she was an angel with no untoward behavior. She had the innate flaws and faults, but the degree measurement was very meagre.

“When will you come to Delhi? September-October disposes a suitable climate and we can have long pilgrimages,” she used to persuade us.

“We will be there to visit you one day,” the response.

Yes, we visited her no doubt, not in October, but in November on a mere phone-call. One day a phone-call whispered that unfavorable, unpromising news in our ears. We saw her lying on the hospital-bed, completely cut-off from the environs. She lay there surrounded by tubes, aided by ventilator and assisted by the medical corps. Then into a corpse she turned within minutes as her last breath had bidden adieu to her.She had that pilgrimage now.

Yes, she is my sister now lying here with fingers tied, toes fastened, mouth closed and nose plugged with cotton.

O! What a fate? She was quite healthy. Never had she displayed any symptom of any ailment.  Rivulets and streams emerge out of my eyes and nose. Heart is gaining weight of glum and gloom, body is expressing inability to stand. Sobs and sighs do not stay inside. My mind is crying, literally crying, it is not heeding to any console or solace.

“Oh! God, why are you after healthy humans, when there are numerous very old ones awaiting your proximity?  Fatal ailments in plenty are triumphant over innocent energetic people, may they be young or old.

“Ha!  But I should thank you because you granted her to have the journey to the infinite, in a very calm and painless way. So thank God! Thanks! Thanks!”

Sarala.


http://writetribe.com/recalling-memories/

The Boy, the Schoolboy!

 

 

Holding a big bag hanging on shoulders

walks, he rather runs to the stop for the bus,

And that is to ply; well, he throws

his physique violently into the mobile.

 

Well, he manages and occupies the seat

that has only a vacancy, its quarter,

thoughts spurt from the brain as jets in the sky

sending his mind hither-thither to meander.

 

“O! How nice are the moon and stars at night!

But the time I have is rare for delight.

not in the morning, but at dawn of the sunup

I get on my feet from sleep, so sound.

 

Brushing and bathing I do much speedy,

for dressing and eating, time, less I spare,                  

rush in rapidly like a rocket to the class,

caring no tiredness in the rain or sun.

 

Like a camel in a very hot desert

or like a prisoner in the dungeon,

in the school, no better than a prison

Awfully, I am a slave of notes.

 

Studies and tuition steel my games

homework and projects twist in thoughts,               

tests and exams disturb the sleep and

the school bell and assembly blight my dream.

 

Food made relishing shows no tang

and enjoy I cannot chat in the sitting.
'Go and study’ words, always, haunt

whenever I try, around, to hang out.

 

The slogan ‘Ranks’ resonates in ears

as a nightmare tearing the calm.

taunt the parents for cards of progress,

But my dear teachers soothe my heart.

How gay and glad are the beasts and birds!

ties their feet, never any lessons,

I wish I were a bat or a crow, then

soared, I would have with joy the best. 

 

Do the ‘A' grades determine the future?

I will show that they aren't a want’.

Let me right now, fly in my dreams

Buzzing and humming before I alight."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks!

 The five-letter word that

Flows out from heart turns listener

Thankful, words mere seem hollow.

Words of gratitude with

Glee fill the receiver’s heart, gives

 He back winning grin.

God gave us tongue to

Speak, mind to think and words to                

Thank, use them in want.

                                                        

Parents, on the progeny

Pour, affection and concern aplenty.

Parochial path son follows.

Shoots up, gratitude only

In minds broad and is the language

Never of spivs and spies.

Thank God for everything
We enjoy, thinking of the poor

 Under-privileged.

sarala

http://haiku-heights.blogspot.in/

Had I Looked Back!

“Sorry,Uncle.”

“W..h…y..?” a feeble sound crawled out of a warped

skeletal body with wrinkled skin and sunken eyes.

“Ingratitude had blind-folded me to understand your hardships.” 

“We can’t erase..  our… destiny,”

“ Had I looked back, I wouldn't have  done so. You struggled a lot to see me with stethoscope.”

 “Be.. with… your spree... I am.. contented. This old man’s concern... is his daughter…. Sha..rry.”

“ I was after the riches of that witch  Ramya who ditched me.“ I want your concurrence to marry Sharry,  a real gem.” 

   

“Isn't ..she..  a misfit for..a doctor?”

 “Yes,I am a misfit,nor are you a gem,”Sharry.

Sarala.

Forhttp://writetribe.com/100-words-saturday-9/

So, you think you know it all!

I stood without Maths homework.  My silence kept her in ire.Madam sent me out of the class.

  A ninth grade ‘Didi’ pitied me.

  “I didn’t do Maths H.W. I don’t like copying”, responded with mopes.

One month’s   legitimate effort during lunch break from that true heart of 'Didi' drew this seventh grade girl to the forefront. I became a top scorer.

‘ Didi ’ knew what I lacked. Madam didn’t understand where I lacked. 

“My castigation boosted you, didn't it?”, Madam.

 I satisfied her.

You elders(parents and teachers) think you know everything. But you don’t know what we don’t know.

sarala            

http://writetribe.com/100-words-saturday/

Blood!

Bullets and bloodshed

Spoil sensational warmth of soil.

Numbness settles in minds.

Mother earns for bread, but

Saves for the blood, he  rewards

  In grades, glee in eyes.

Mother Nature fulfils

Her blood’s needs, his willful act

 Stains, spoils her good will.

Blood , the life-liquid can                       

Take away life if less or more.

Care well for good health.

Blood-bottles may bring back

Life to patients from fatality.

Do donate your share.

Sarala.

For  http://haiku-heights.blogspot.in

The Avoidance!

“You can’t get away from yourself by moving from one place to another.”

Flemmingway has rightly said it!

To steer clear of unpleasant occurrences many a time what we do is just running away from our ‘self ’. But the accomplishment is kilometres and kilometres far. I am a live paradigm of such an incident.

It was a time when my days stayed away from my sleep or sleep alienated me from its proximity. A sort of gloom and grief had shaded my heart, as the day was nearing. So my legs used to resume their perpendicular position even before the day break at that time. And so also that day I was on my feet, which carried me to the morning routines. Then my feet led me to a corner of the verandah outside.

“What happened to the hyper-active squirrel jumping up and down from bough to branch? Is he expressing his camaraderie with me? He is sitting quite on a twig now. O, here comes a tiny sparrow. Without disturbing the former of his penance, she silently takes her seat on another branch. Reading my mind or so she also slips into a silence. The leaves also stand stooping as if they can’t be delightful at that unpleasant presence of mine. The sky is with mopes on its visage to shed tears as if it reads my mind”. My dismal thoughts went on circling the vicinity.

That day was my forty fourth birthday ‘Happy Birthday’ in kids’ words. I didn’t know the day would be happy or not.  The anguish and anxiety didn’t leave me not for a moment even.

The oddness of that birthday only detached Chandrika from me. Chandrika,  the name  had been once engraved on a gold plate and kept safe in my mind, on the most accessible shelf. She was creeping slowly to my heart. With the aid of the great Time I had covered her behind a curtain of forgetfulness. This curtain sometimes got blown away by the memory gale, revealing very well that very visage. Yes, Chandrika, no ferocious force could separate her from me. She too housed the same belief in her.

It was not as durable as expected. My horoscope had loomed with a villainy in it. The prognostication of it marked a full stop to our being together. It said that the forty fourth birthday might prove fatal for me. It questioned my existence on this globe. Chandrika’s father pondered over it and believed it would become a reality. She was not a harpy. With melancholy-stricken heart only she turned her face away from me. She couldn’t help retrieving it. Chandrika didn’t have the guts to elope, nor did I.

I strove hard for a solace and ran away from home and ‘me’ also.  For a placid place I approached the Deity, our savior in sorrow. I unloaded all the sadness there. Again for a place of peace I rummaged hither-thither and everywhere for a long time. Temples, touring zones, lone areas and even penniless peoples’ havens tried to mend my bleeding heart. Nothing could bandage the wound within. Somewhere the stay was dangerous as well. I had fallen prey to burglary once or twice. “When you start to live outside yourself, it’s all dangerous”.

One fine day somehow a sensible sense aroused as a glimpse in me. It rebuked me, advised me and pleaded with me, “What are you doing? Can you run away from yourself? You are vacillating between hope and fear and oscillating from place to place. Go back to your kith and kin for they may be in utter gloom now. Perhaps glory you can pick from them.”

So my body abided by my mind eventually witnessed the dawn of console in my own land. I slowly recognized that ‘Blood is thicker than water’. My recurring denials for nuptial procedures disappeared unattended by elders.  Nalini walked in to my life as a cute flower with sweet fragrance. Nalini’s father an agnostic readily granted the agreement for our wedding. Nalini spread her perfume all around. Her presence provided our folks with pleasure.

  

 The sobre sound of  Nalini to the present, brought me back. She was stirring her tounge with some topics not pertaining to the hinterland. That she used only to test and soothe me indirectly. The day was escalated with a pompous feast.  All the countenances were smiling with shrouded anguish. I too brought about commonness in my body language and exhibited a synthetic elation.

Hours of darkness had opened its black umbrella over mother Earth. Ho! My mind lit a small torch of gladness. Nalini was still carrying the load of gloom. At the strikes of twelve by the clock, a sigh of relief bounded from Nalini.

 She said, “I was afraid about the prediction in the horoscope. Amma (mother) said they had not disclosed that to you. Achchan(father) had kept the horoscope away from your view. My father knew it and informed me also about it.”

“What horoscope! Nonsense.The horrible item says today is my last day. Rubbish, I don’t believe in such things.”I boasted well being fully conversant about the time.

“Now things attained a delightful end. Let us sleep now,” both of us uttered together.

Today is my forty fifth birthday. A wrong prediction had eaten away the tranquil of our shelter. While turning back, the mind passes a snigger on us.

Take only the affirmatives for granted and chase away the negatives.

സമയം പന്ത്രണ്ടുമണി!

 

ഈയിടെയായി ബാലന് ഉറക്കം കുറവാണ്. അയാളുടെമനസ്സിനെ ഉലയ്ക്കുന്ന ആചിന്ത വിട്ടുമാറുന്നില്ല, എല്ലാവർക്കും വന്നുചേരാറുള്ള ഒരവസ്ഥയാണതെന്നറിയാം. ഇതൊന്നും വകവയ്ക്കുന്ന കൂട്ടത്തിലല്ലായിരുന്നു അയാൾ. എങ്കിലും ഒരുവല്ലായ്മ അയാളുടെ സന്തതസഹചാരിയായി മാറിയിരിക്കുന്നു. ചിരിഅയാളിൽനിന്നും ദൂരെയെവിടെയോ പോയൊളിച്ചു. 

അന്നും പ്രഭാതം പൊട്ടിവിടരുന്നതിനുമുമ്പേതന്നെ അയാൾ കണ്ണുതുറന്നു. കിഴക്കു വെള്ളകീറിയപ്പോൾ പുറത്തുവന്നല്‍പനേരം നില്ക്കാൻതോന്നി. ഇന്നുനാല്പത്തിനാലാം പിറന്നാള്.‍ നല്ലരീതിയിൽ ആഘോഷിയ്ക്കുവാൻ വേണ്ടതയ്യാറെടുപ്പുകൾ വീട്ടിൽ നടക്കുന്നുണ്ട്‌.

കുറേമാസങ്ങളായി വീട്ടിൽ എല്ലാവരും അയാളോടു കൂടുതൽ കരുതൽകാണിയ്ക്കുന്നു. അതിനുള്ളകാരണം പിറന്നാ‍ൾ അടുത്തുവരുന്നതിനാലാകാം. എന്തുകൊണ്ടോ ഇന്നുമനസ്സിനു കൂടുതൽഭാരം. സാധാരണയായി മരങ്ങളിൽ ചാടിതിമിർക്കുന്നഅണ്ണാറക്കണ്ണൻ അയാളെക്കുറിച്ചുള്ള ചിന്തയിൽ മുഴുകിയതാണോ, ആവോ,ഒന്നുംചെയ്യാതെ ഒരുകൊമ്പിൽ  എന്തോ ആലോചിച്ചുകൊണ്ടിരിയ്ക്കുന്നു. അതിനും അല്പം വിഷാദഭാവം ഉള്ളതായിത്തോന്നി. അതാ ഒരുകുരുവി പറന്നുവരുന്നു. അണ്ണാറക്കണ്ണന്റെചിന്തയ്ക്ക് ഭംഗംവരാത്തരീതിയിൽ അതു മറ്റൊരുകൊമ്പിൽ ഇരിപ്പുറപ്പിച്ചു. അയാളുടെ മനസ്സ് വായിച്ചെടുത്തതുപോലെ പ്രകൃതിയുടെമുഖവും മ്ലാനമായിക്കണ്ടു. മരക്കൊമ്പുകൾ കുമ്പിട്ടുനിൽക്കുന്നതായി തോന്നി. ചെടികളും പൂക്കളും അത്രനല്ല സന്തോഷത്തിലല്ല. അവയ്ക്കും ഒരുവിഷാദഭാവം പടർന്നിട്ടുണ്ട്. ആകാശം വിതുമ്പാൻപോകുമ്പോലെ മൂടിക്കെട്ടിനിന്നിരുന്നു. 

"ബാലേട്ടാ,ബാലേട്ടാ, വരൂ നമുക്ക് കുളികഴിഞ്ഞ്അമ്പലത്തിൽ പോയിവരാം.” ഭാര്യനളിനി ഒരു കൃത്രിമസന്തോഷത്തോടെ വിളിച്ചു.

“ഇപ്പോൾത്തന്നെ റെഡിയാകാം.”

ക്ഷേത്രത്തിലേയ്ക്ക് നടക്കുമ്പോൾ അയാളെ രസിപ്പിക്കാൻവേണ്ടിയോ അതോ സ്വയം ആശ്വസിക്കാൻവേണ്ടിയോ എന്നറിയില്ല എന്തൊക്കെയോ നളിനി പറഞ്ഞുകൊണ്ടേയിരുന്നു. 

സർക്കാർഉദ്യോഗസ്ഥരായ അവർക്ക് വലിയവിഷമങ്ങൾ ഒന്നുംതന്നെ ഇല്ലായിരുന്നു.

അന്ന് അവധിആയിരുന്നതിനാൽ മക്കളും (സച്ചിൻ, സുമൻ) വീട്ടിൽ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നു. എല്ലാവരും ഒന്നുമറിയാത്തതുപോലെ അയാളുടെതാത്പ്പര്യങ്ങൾക്കനുസരിച്ച് പ്രവർത്തിച്ചു കൊണ്ടിരുന്നു. അയാളും ഒരു ‘അറിഞ്ഞില്ലാഭാവം’ ശരീരഭാഷയിൽ ലയിപ്പിച്ചു.

അടുത്തവീടുകളിലുള്ളവരും ബന്ധുക്കളും അവരുടെ സാന്നിദ്ധ്യമറിയിച്ച്‌ സദ്യയിൽ പങ്കുചേർന്നു. സദ്യകഴിഞ്ഞതും എല്ലാവരും സ്വന്തംഗൃഹങ്ങളിലേക്ക് നടകൊണ്ടു. 

“കേരളത്തിൽ ഈകാലഘട്ടത്തിൽ കണ്ടുവരുന്ന ഒരുസമ്പ്രദായമാണ് സദ്യക്കു തള്ളിക്കയറുന്നതും  ഊണുകഴിഞ്ഞാൽ ഉടൻതന്നെ സ്ഥലം വിടുന്നതും,“ ബാലകൃഷ്ണന്റെചിന്ത ആവഴിക്കും പോയി.

രാത്രിആയി. ഒന്നുംസംഭവിച്ചില്ല. അയാൾക്കല്‍പ്പം ആശ്വാസമായി. പക്ഷേ നളിനി അപ്പോളും മ്ലാനതഉപേക്ഷിച്ചില്ല.

“ബാലാ, ബാലാ നീ എവിടെ ആണ്?” അമ്മ. ബാലകൃഷ്ണനെന്ന അയാളെ അമ്മയും അച്ഛനും വിളിക്കുന്നത്‌ അങ്ങനെയാണ്.

“ഇവിടെ ഉണ്ട്, എന്തേ വിളിച്ചത്?”

“ഒന്നും ഇല്ല, ഇന്ന് ഇത്തിരി ആയാസപ്പെട്ടതല്ലെ? ഇന്ന് നടക്കണ്ടായെന്നച്ഛൻ പറയുന്നു.."ഇടറിയശബ്ദം മറയ്ക്കാൻ ശ്രമിച്ചുകൊണ്ടമ്മ.

അയാൾ രാത്രിഭക്ഷണം കഴിഞ്ഞ് മുറ്റത്തല്പം നടക്കാറുണ്ട്. അന്ന് അയാളും നടക്കണ്ടായെന്നു തീരുമാനിച്ചിരുന്നു.അതുകാരണം അൽപ്പംനേരത്തെതന്നെ ഉറങ്ങാൻകിടന്നു. കണ്ണണ്ണുകളടഞ്ഞു.

അപ്പോളാണ് നളിനി മുറിയിലേയ്‌ക്കു കടന്നുചെന്നത്. ഉറങ്ങുന്ന ഭർത്താവ് ശരിക്കു ശ്വാസോച്ഛ്വാസം ചെയ്യുന്നില്ലയോ എന്നു സംശയം. 'ഒരുത്തനെത്തന്നെ നിനച്ചിരുന്നാൽ വരുന്നതെല്ലാം അവനെന്നു തോന്നും’ എന്നു പറഞ്ഞതുപോലെ ഒരുസംശയമുണ്ടെങ്കിൽ മനുഷ്യർ എല്ലാസംഭവങ്ങളും അതിനെബന്ധപ്പെടുത്തിചിന്തിക്കുമല്ലൊ,. അവൾ ബാലുവിന്റെനെഞ്ചിൽ പതിയെ കൈവച്ചുനോക്കി. അവൾ അയാളുടെനെഞ്ചിലേക്കുതന്നെ നോക്കിക്കൊണ്ടേയിരുന്നു.

നിദ്ര കോപത്തോടെ അയാളിൽനിന്നും പിൻവാങ്ങി.

ഒന്നും അറിയാത്ത ഭാവത്തിൽ അയാൾ ചോദിച്ചു "എന്തുപറ്റി? “ഉറങ്ങുന്നില്ലേ? നീ വിഷമിക്കേണ്ട. ഒന്നും സംഭവിക്കില്ല. ഓ! ഒരു ജാതകം!  നാൽപ്പത്തിമൂന്നാം വയസ്സിൽ മരണം സംഭവിക്കാവുന്ന ഗ്രിഹപ്പിഴ ഉണ്ടെന്നല്ലേ എഴുതി വച്ചിരിക്കുന്നത്.”

"എങ്ങനെയറിഞ്ഞു? നളിനി.

"എനിക്കെല്ലാം അറിയാം. ഒരിക്കൽ എനിക്ക് ജാതകം വായിക്കാൻ കിട്ടി. ഞാൻ അറിഞ്ഞിട്ടില്ലായെന്നു ഭാവിച്ചതാണ്."

“അങ്ങനെ മാത്രമല്ല, നാല്പത്തിനാലാം പിറന്നാൾ കടക്കാൻ പ്രയാസമാണെന്നും വേറൊരുപേജിൽ  എഴുതിയിട്ടുണ്ട്."

“അതുമറിയാം പൊന്നുമക്കൾ മിടുക്കരായി വിദ്യാഭ്യാസംപൂർത്തിയാക്കി ഉദ്യൊഗമൊക്കെകിട്ടിയിട്ടേ ഞാൻ പോകുവൊള്ളു. 

നിന്നേയും അച്ഛനമ്മമാരേയും തനിച്ചാക്കില്ല. യമലോകത്ത് എനിക്ക്‌വേണ്ടി ഒഴിവില്ല. അതുകൊണ്ട് വിസയടിച്ചിട്ടില്ല.”

"എന്താ ബാലേട്ടാ ഇങ്ങനൊക്കെപ്പറയുന്നത്?" അവളുടെ ആകാംക്ഷ ഒഴിഞ്ഞില്ല.

 “ഹൃദയസ്തംഭനത്തിന് സമയമാവശ്യമില്ലല്ലോ, എപ്പോൾ വേണമെങ്കിലും

സംഭവിക്കാമല്ലോ,” അവൾക്കുള്ളിൽത്തോന്നി.

"നീ നെഞ്ചിൽ കൈവെച്ചതു ഹൃദയമിടിപ്പ് പരിശോധിക്കാനല്ലേ? എന്നിൽനിന്നും ഒന്നുംഒളിക്കണ്ട.ഏതോ ഒരുപൊട്ടജ്യോത്സ്യൻ എന്തോഎഴുതിവെച്ചു. അയാൾ പൈസയ്ക്കു വേണ്ടിപ്പറയുന്നതാണിതെല്ലാം,” സമയം പതിനൊന്നുമണി കഴിഞ്ഞ ധൈര്യത്തിൽ അയാൾ പറഞ്ഞു.

 ജാതകം ആരും ബാലനെ കാണിച്ചിരുന്നില്ല.അയാൾക്കു ജാതകത്തിലൊന്നും വിശ്വാസമില്ലായിരുന്നു. ജ്യോത്സ്യന്മാരെ കളിയാക്കുകയും ചെയ്തിരുന്നു. നാൽപ്പത്തിമൂന്നുവയസ്സിലേയ്ക്കു കയറിയപ്പോൾ ഒന്നും തോന്നിയിരുന്നില്ല.പക്ഷെ ഒരു ആറുമാസംമുമ്പ് ഒരുസുഹൃത്ത് ബൈക്കപകടത്തിൽപ്പെട്ടു.  അൽപ്പംകടുപ്പംകൂടിയ അപകടമായിരുന്നു. ഭാഗ്യത്തിനു രക്ഷപെട്ടു. ജ്യോത്സ്യൻ അയാൾക്കൊരപകടം പ്രവചിച്ചിരുന്നത്രെ! അതുമുതലൊരുചിന്ത ബാലകൃഷ്ണന്റെ മനസ്സിനെ മഥിക്കാൻതുടങ്ങി. നാല്പത്തിനാലാംപിറന്നാൾകടക്കാൻ പ്രയാസമാണെന്ന് എഴുതിയിരിക്കുന്നത് ദിവസങ്ങൾ അടുക്കുന്തോറും അയാളെ അലോസരപ്പെടുത്തി.

"ഇന്നു നാല്പത്തിനാലാംപിറന്നാളാണല്ലോ ജാതകപ്രകാരം.  എൻ്റെ അന്ത്യദിവസം!"

നളിനി വേഗം അയാളുടെ വായ അടച്ചു, "ഈശ്വരാ എന്തായീപ്പറയുന്നത്? അങ്ങനെയൊന്നും പറയല്ലേ, ബാലേട്ടാ."

 ഓരോന്നു പറഞ്ഞിരുന്നപ്പോൾ സമയം പോയതറിഞ്ഞില്ല. ഘടികാരം പന്ത്രണ്ടുപ്രാവശ്യമടിച്ചു. സമയം പന്ത്രണ്ടുമണി. പെട്ടെന്ന് രണ്ടുപേരും ഘടികാരത്തിലേയ്ക്കുനോക്കി. പുതിയ ദിവസത്തിലേയ്ക്കു എത്തിയവിവരമറിഞ്ഞപ്പോൾ രണ്ടുപേരുടെയുമുള്ളിൽ ഒരുആശ്വാസക്കാറ്റുവീശി. പുഞ്ചിരി അവരുടെ മുഖങ്ങളെ ആവരണംചെയ്തു. ലൈറ്റ്അണച്ച് ആശ്വാസത്തോടെ അവർ ഉറങ്ങാൻകിടന്നു. നിദ്ര അവരെ മെല്ലെത്തഴുകി സുന്ദര സ്വപ്നത്തിലേക്ക് ആനയിച്ചു.  

 

 

 

 

Nomination for an Award

    Dear Madam,

I am really indebted to you for having been nominated for an award. But the fact is that I was nominated earlier also for this award(Leibster Award). Nevertheless I like the questions you have asked here and so I would answer them in my own little way.

      1 Why do you write?

       2 Why did you start blogging?

      3 What do you prefer, love marriage or an arranged marriage? Why?

      4 Does Politics interest you? Give reasons.

     5 Which is your favourite  TV programme?

    6 Three things which are most important for you in life? 

    7 Which is your favourite News Paper?

     8 At what age a child can be given sex education?

    9 Which character has influenced you most in a novel? Why?

    10. Which country do you wish to live forever?

And the answers go thus 

1.       I write because some ideas are born in the womb of my thoughts and they come out to the open providing me fun and fancy.

2.    I wanted to see my ideas in the cradle of some platform and this is an apt one for amateurs like me.

3.    A successful marriage of any kind.

4.     Not at all that of the present. The politicians believe in a governance of them, for them and by them only! Only! And only.

5.    Music programmes. Home makers also may be offered chances.

6.    Legal birth, proper life and peaceful death. 

7.    Well it is ‘Mathrubhoomi’.  
.  . A pointed answer does not emerge from me. At the onset of adolescence a child                   should learn about the body parts and functions; and sex oriented class should enter the mind only after sixteen.
    'Mini’,her father and Kaboolivalla in Kaboolivalla.

. India. India is my country and all Indians except my hubby are my brothers and sisters……….

Grass!

Grass grins delightfully. 

Sets her free, Sun the Saviour

Well with pity, from dark.

The little men ride cycles

Smashing the green glossy grass, wild.

It bears pain, chides never.

Bamboo the tallest boasts

Of fingering sky, with voracity.

Poor grass can never touch.

Green silky glassy grass O!

To cattle, at life’s cost, offers fodder.

Who else would  in world?

http://haiku-heights.blogspot.in/

Rummage!

Rummages through environs

Hornbill for water, in summer. 

No cloud in sky, alas!

Workers, for requirements

Rely many times on rummages,as

They draw only meager amount! 

Beetles rummage through plants.

Flower of choice, discover even if
They can’t,they stop not!

River with twisting figure

And lust in eyes searches her lover.

She falls in his clasp.

 http://haiku-heights.blogspot.in/

The Best Ever Vehicle!

This is the fastest vehicle, launching

The satellites of thoughts,out punching

All the fences blocking the upward drift              

That carry dreams and desires very swift.

Looks it, like a very deep gaping cave,

As if to expel out something much grave.

In doubts and qualms it forms a caged bird

Yet can it fly high in the sky around the world.

None here mostly hold the command,

Checking and seizing its undue demand.

Potent to create and erase history,

Remains it, as an impassive mystery.

Studying others, it does coolly delve,

And ways for scraping, it does derive.

Standing often for dicey challenges

Using sometimes grimy chances.

Unveils, it your intentions or impulses,

Your culture, behavior and manners.

Eliciting your  passion, accurately

And gives you a judgment rightly.

It is no doubt your remembrance

And contains it, your intelligence
And imagination with ideas fine

To funnel them daintily to lines and lanes.

At the same time rejoice you can,

As protection and consolation,

Comforts and cuddles, help and support

Guidance and advice, it grants, you clear-cut.

What is one’s mind’s exact form?

Is it one’s grey matter’s dome?

Is it the conscience or insight?

Or is it one’s sublime spirit?

It is your inner sense pedaling

The senses dipped in surroundings.

Better, optimism let your mind extract 

And pessimism, nip in the bud, let it.  

Has anyone seen your mind and do you know where it subsists?

.

.

I Knew It was my Last day There!

I knew it was my last day there.The initial stage on-wards I stayed there. Utmost comfy care I enjoyed with luxury and lavishness.

A feel of angst conquered all faces, when I was admitted in the hospital. My state of mind I couldn’t judge, it was full with mixed feelings. Did a flash of pleasure loom in my mind? The first snivel of my neo-natal infant! Ha!  Immediately a wry smile lurked in me.

I bestowed the tender one caringly in their hands. Paining tears and sobs died within me.

What else can an unmarried surrogate MOTHER rich in poverty do?

http://writetribe.com/100-words-saturday-7/