Deep Ties

When other children ran ahead, he stumbled often and fell, but got up each time, determination brightening his face. “Why can’t I be like other children, Ma?” When the query banished the happiness from his mother’s beautiful face, he stopped asking. Instead he overcame his physical frailties by allowing his mind to encompass the world with one click of his computer. As his body became frailer, his mind travelled across continents. Through Facebook, he created virtual albums, segregating spaces to family and friends, and browsing to build up his already prodigious knowledge. In his every action was the urge to experience life in all its hues, as if there were no tomorrow! His doting parents took him everywhere in his wheelchair; his grandfather would discuss interesting topics with him, his father physically carried him around. His cousins spent time with him; each person wanted a little space inside his large heart. At the age of 23, he invited a large gathering of family and friends t...

Priyanka’s comments... Reasons Why I Miss Home: Ma: • •Her ‘pun’ny (sometimes awful) jokes, leaving Pa and me to look at each other and think, “What is wrong with her? Sigh!” But we still love her…” • •Walking into the house screaming, “What’s for dinner todayyyy?” • •Mama’s lecture on how I should learn to eat everything after I scrunch up my face hearing it’s either Bhindi Sabji or Korma curry! • •During dinner, the first sentence is always, “How’s the chicken?” resulting in Papa and I rolling with laughter. We would both in unison say, “Excellent, excellent!!” • •Telling her to stop being such a Face book addict and stop adding strangers to her profile. But according to her, the world is too good and human beings can do no harm! • •Her late evening jaunts to the super market when she suddenly realizes there’s no bread or eggs or chillies in the house! • •Her random cleaning sprees, which usually do not affect me. However, the words, “CLEAN YOUR ROOM!” usually made me see red! • •All...

Oh no, I groaned as I flew out of the house. “What a way to start the day!” My wife stood at the door, brandishing a frying pan, a non stick one at that, which she maintained in its immaculate condition. However, there were times when she did forget about taking care of it, as now, a moment ago, when it descended on my head more than once. “I’ll fry you, you worm!” she screeched at a glass shattering pitch that would have done an opera singer proud. The worm squirmed. I cocked a wary eye behind me, and thankfully saw her retrace her steps. She would never come out on the street minus her lipstick. The storm had abated for the present. I was so occupied in sneaking a peek behind me, that I failed to notice the paper boy sailing along merrily on his shining paragon of a bicycle. He saw me too late and we came together with a resounding clash. I picked myself up gloomily and dusted my poor rear which had come off the worst in the encounter. Maybe I should acquire a suit of armour ...

The waves lap around the parent vessel As it cuts its way Through the azure carpet; The little life boats tied to its sides Are guided through the stormy waters In a snug cocoon of protection Against the swells that threaten To engulf them! The gentle mantle placed on them Creates a halo in the ripples around, Cushions their falls, every little bump Makes them stronger! The day arrives, When each little life boat is cut adrift, Sent on its way, to meet new challenges – New dangers, in the world of chaos outside! Each traces its own path Through a sea of change, yet below the surface, The lifelines stretch out, Leaving room enough to move on, But they remain tethered, The invisible bonds under the surface, And the age old links continue, unbroken. Picture courtesy: Gopi Menon

“Get me an autograph of Dhoni’s!” my sister ordered. “And one for me too!” chimed my daughter, as I nodded like the cat that had got the cream! Hadn’t I just been invited to the IPL party after the home team had won magnificently? ‘No problemo!” I said, brimming with confidence. That would make it three autographs in all; one for yours truly as well! And so I left, armed with a notebook, a pen, and oodles of confidence, all set to meet the Chennai Super Kings in my Sunday best. A misnomer, as I stood out like a sore thumb, in what seemed to be a spiralling out-of-control collection of PYTs in micro minis, healthy cleavages, and flurries of giggles! But more on that later! Security guards seemed to be the norm, as I got to the counter at the venue, and a pretty lady asked me to wait, as I had got there much too early. A terrible habit that was a relic of having been part of the Indian Army! It was 9.30 pm, and I crawled into a safe corner, pretending to be part of the ornamental potted ...

Are you on the side of those who make India hang her head in shame or those who raise her head in pride?” asks Aamir Khan in an ‘Incredible India’ advertisement. I am as big a patriot as the next person, but sometimes, queries buzz about inside my head querulously. Is there any harm in talking about those aspects of our country that could be wished away! Do you need that big gob of spit that just misses your big toe on your way to an important appointment? Or that red-flecked liquid spewed out so casually in a traffic snarl? What could be worse than that giant phlegm-filled hawk that begins from deep inside a champion ‘spitter’, making you wince and shut your eyes and ears in anticipation of the actual event? And those artistic red squiggles on pristine walls, winding staircases, and ironically, below signs which scream “Please do not spit here!” What about male members of the human species with undoubtedly canine habits, when they sight a vacant wall, and proceed to let loose in pub...

Don’t we sometimes wish we could remain children All our lives? Nestled under the wings of our parents? Isn’t it ironic how they nurture us till we are able To stand on our feet, then let us go, content; Is it really worth it, showering love on a child Who has to leave one day? Is it worth the pain, the tears, the smiles, the joys, The anguished hours of growing up The lessons of defeat and triumph That strike an echo in their hearts too? Or is it that the very threat of separation Gives sweet poignancy to the relationship, Making the ties as delicate as cobwebs, Yet, at the same time, strong enough To withstand the ravages of nature? Ties – unfathomably deep, the bonds of a lifetime!