The Comfort of Familiarity

It was white, it was rectangular, it was calling for me at the corner of the washroom. There was nothing special about it, nothing posh and definitely nothing extravagant. It was a washbasin but it spoke a lot, at least for me.

The first day I walked into the loo, brush in hand, I looked at the dozens of washbasins arranged on the walls, one after the other. One was round, one was a weird shape that I couldn't quite place, one was so huge that I thought I could sit on it. And then I noticed the one basin at the extreme end of the restroom. It was strangely familiar. There was a touch of familiarity so profound in it that I immediately walked towards it, still looking intently at it. Anybody watching me would have definitely thought I was weird, which I am.

I brushed my teeth right in front of the washbasin on my first day. It's been a year and a half. Every day morning, my legs automatically take me to the same washbasin. If I find anybody else using it, I would wait till they were done and take their place even though there were a dozen other basins to use.

The washbasin resembled the one at home. It was the exact same shape, size and color. The comfort of familiarity is so small, yet it is so comforting that we look for it in these small things in our everyday life. It is okay to not be able to brush amidst your mother screaming at your sister and your sister yelling back at the top of your voice because when you stand in front of the washbasin, brushing, that is everything you see and that is everything you hear.

Aishwarya Kumar.

P.S: I had to write. It is Doomsday!

The Road Not Taken

The sun was making its descent into the crimson horizon. A pair of deep blue eyes followed the sun as it made its way down. The deep blue eyes wore an expression so morose, so poignant that an onlooker might wonder what was so wrong with is life. The startling blue of his eyes was in stark contrast to the crimson red of the sky. The boy kept looking at the sky, clutching his faded brown bad which was slung over his shoulder. There was a small buckle protruding from the front of the bag and his feeble hands nervously played with it unconsciously.

The fourteen year old Pierre then looked down, away from the almost disappearing sun, towards the fork in the road, still frantically holding onto his bag for support. There was not a soul to be seen and the eerie silence was piercing. Pierre's legs gave in and he fell to the floor, shivering violently as he looked ahead into the darkness. His breathing came out in gasps and his face was covered in sweat. He slowly brought his hands to his face, wiping out the beads of sweat. He looked to his left and then to his right, hoping to find somebody, anybody to appear and help him, calm him down, but there was nobody.

His breathing slowly came back to normal and his legs stopped shivering. Having placed his face between his knees, he tried to think straight. One thing was clear and that was he was alone in the dead of nowhere, with no place to go to and nobody to hold onto for support. His father had left him for a woman a few days ago. He, at the age of fourteen had to fend for himself with nothing but an old bag containing an extremely tattered copy of Bible inside it. It was his mother's. He had left everything behind at his father's but he could not imagine leaving the book behind. The Bible had once been touched by her tender hands. It had the story of his mother etched in its pages. It was his mother's, the most beautiful lady in the world. She was, she still is and will always be the most wonderful and inspiring person in his life. She was not there with him then but he knew with all his heart that she was looking down at him from the heavens.

He opened his bag and took out the Bible in his hands, slowly turning over the pages. He was never a believer and the Bible meant little to him but the pages bore the life story of his mother and he held each and every one of the pages as tenderly as possible, imagining his mother's hands in the place of the pages.

As he sat there with tears in his eyes, he barely noticed the dancing lights cast by the then rising moon. He looked up suddenly to find the place eerily dark. He turned to his left and saw a small lane leading into wilderness. It was dark but looked well maintained and neat. He realized that this road was tread upon often. He then looked to his right and found a smaller lane, covered with wild trees and weeds. Every minute detail of the lane was visible. He looked up into the sky and smiled to himself. He knew exactly which road to take. Rising to his feet, the bible still in his hands, he looked at the road not taken with a glint in his eyes and a small smile on his lips.

After all his mother, the moon was shining down at him at the end of the road, smiling at him and bathing him in the light of her innocence, her knowledge, ready to embrace him and wrap him in her arms when he finally made it across the road- the road not taken.

Aishwarya Kumar. 

MasterChef With a Spicy Punch

MasterChef Australia is on and I am drooling again (Well, Partly at the food but mostly at the contestants!). It is one of the best cooking shows in the history of shows and it was back with a new and exhilarating idea- bringing back the top contestants from all the three previous years and making them fight it out. The money raised through their wins would go to their chosen charity. It was perfect. There was Gary and his charming smile, there was George and his childish hands-flailing while talking, there was the burly Mat Preston, most of all, there were the most amazing contestants from 2009, 2010 and 2011 fighting it out in "MasterChef Australia All stars."

 

2010 is a personal favourite and Callum is the ultimate cook. To see Callum back again in the MasterChef set was heaven! He was everything that a cook would dream to be- Calm, composed, childish, cute, mesmerizing, methodical, witty.

 

There was Jonathan, the Eliminator, my next favourite. The thing I loved about Jono was the fact that he was chilled out but at the same time very cautious. He plays it cool till the end but when it was time to step up, he always pushed himself and gave his best. Marion was another lethal contestant from the same year and watching her back in the kitchen was a pleasure. She was funny, she loved what she was doing, she was a master when it came to the mystery box and nailed it almost all the time. She gave this positive vibe in the sets and was loved by the whole lot. Aaron, the Pasta specialist was a part of All stars as well and cooked some brilliant dishes in this series.

 

 

I did not personally watch the 2011 season of MasterChef but I have heard a lot about that season from my sister, a major MasterChef fan. She used to keep updating me about the top performers and making me watch Youtube videos of interesting episodes. I have heard so much about the best friend combo of Hayden and Michael that I very much wanted to see them again during this season. I was in for some luck as Hayden, the blond and totally hot looking chef came out of that MasterChef door. There was also Dani, a bubbly and inspiring person who loved cooking and created so much joy in the MasterChef arena. Kumar holds a special spot in my heart as he is from Sri Lanka. He cooked delightful Indian food and was loved and respected by millions of people for his designing skills. He is currently designing his own cook book. Kate, the Winner of that season, is an amazing cook. Dessert cooking was her strong point and she used it greatly to her advantage.
 

 

2009, the original MasterChef contestants were a fantastic bunch. Chris kind of grew on me as I watched the season and he is now easily my most favourite cook after Callum. Poh and her 32 teeth smile was beautiful to watch as she cooked away to glory. Justine grew a lot as the season progressed and was a valuable asset to the All Stars season. Julie, though the winner of the 2009 edition, always came across as somebody who takes too much pressure and puts strain before cooking. She never comes across as a person who enjoyed what she did though she has cooked some really marvelous dishes.

 

All stars is a baby that the MasterChef brains came up with this year. It is one of the most innovative and awe-inspiring season I have ever watched. Seeing the top chefs of Australia cooking away and loving their dishes is something I had always wanted to watch. The episode of Curtis Stone was my personal favourite. The pace at which they were cooking was extraordinary and it was brilliant to see that most of them came out pretty successful. The Adriano Zumbo Chrquembouche challenge was one of the toughest and I loved the way the All stars handled the pressure. The concept of the participants taking their revenge on the Mystery box by breaking it apart and making a fire out of it and cooking was also a very innovative and delightful episode to watch. They had such a thrill in breaking apart the box with the hatchel and making a fire out of it.

 

 

When they brought their dishes for the judges to taste, all I wanted to do was get my hands on those dishes. It looked superb, sophisticated and above all classy.

 

One person who stood out in the whole competition was Chris. His helping nature and his honest cooking was inspiring and this was what took him to a totally different level. He looked very calm, sipped his beer and made sure that the judges loved what he presented. He always plated well before time and helped his fellow contestants at crucial stages. I remember this one time when he helped Justine plate up her dish, early on in the season. She had burnt her hand during the last few minutes of the challenge and he came up and helped her plate all her stuff. This act was beautiful and went down well among a lot of people.

 

Callum picked up pace in the later stages of the season and proved that he was the youngest and most amazing cook. His beer dessert in the lead up to the finale swash buckled the judges and all the three tapped the table thrice, depicting that the dish was the best ever.

“This is the best dessert I have tasted this year,” said Mat Preston. The three judges cleared the entire dish and looked like they could eat it every day of their lives. This was the turning point in Callum’s innings (Sorry about the cricketing term, but it just keeps cropping up!). He was propelled into the Finals by that dish and he would have been mighty proud.

I am yet to watch the finals but my nerves just got the better of me. I checked out the winner in Wikipedia and-BOOM, it was Callum. I was so happy and I am waiting to watch the finale and watch Callum’s eyebrows go up and down in worry/happiness, one last time.

The MasterChef All Stars is an amazing concept and I loved watching every single episode of the season. Some contestants grew on, some contestants irritated me, some contestants put me off. But above all this show is one brilliant effort by the makers.

I have to talk about the three most inspiring people in the MasterChef Kitchen- George, Gary and Mat. Their inputs, their timely comments, their dead stares and above all their knowledge of cooking and their years of experience in this field has definitely made them the people to look out for in the competition.

 

 

George has and will always be the most brilliant cook, friend and host I have ever seen.

 

One other thing I really loved about MasterChef is the family feel that it has to it. The contestants are always there to support and help each other out. The judges also have to be mentioned here. Their "Can we have hugs too" is a joyous scene to watch. There is always this connect that they establish and carry forth as the series progresses. There are tears, of both happiness and sorrow when participants leave the competition or when they win a challenge.

I have and will always continue to love this show, thanks to my sister, Pooja, who pushed me into it.

Aishwarya Kumar.

 

The Path of Life

Life is a mystery. It takes us to places which we can hardly imagine. One and a half years ago, I never thought I would be what I am today. A matter of 16 months can make life changing alterations, a revolution some may call it. That is what life is capable of doing.

One day she was there and the next day she was gone. It was like magic. Life is so unpredictable. Life is a mystery. Life is like magic which can never be completely understood, which can never be comprehended.

We meet people for a reason. I have always believed in that.

There is one person about whom I have been wanting to write for quite some time now. He is one person who I became close to so gradually over the past 16 months. The path, when tread upon is so beautiful, so gradual. He barely looked at me the first day I went to his house. He just nodded his head when his sister (who also happens to be my best friend) introduced me to him. He looked so uncomfortable, so out of place. I wanted to help him. I wanted to bring him out of the shell, I wanted to make him feel comfortable around people, wanted around people. But this is something which needs his co-operation as well. So I knew that it would take some time, for him to open up and for him to talk his mind. I gave him that time. I did not push him. He slowly started acknowledging my presence. He would wave when I came and left. That was it, but that was such a huge step when you look at it from his angle.

Then there would be occasions where he would want to take part in the conversation that the whole family and I used to have but his shyness and timidity used to get the better of him and he used to remain silent. He never knew that I observed, but I did.

After about 2 months, he would slowly smile and after a lot of pushing, talk.

"Hey Shriram, how are you? How is school?"

"Ya, school is good. I am fine."

That was all. Basic courtesy questions and answers.

It made me smile on the inside that I had made this improvement.

After staying there for 2-3 times, I could see that he was opening up. He would talk in group conversations, he would give his opinions and so on. But never would he involve in a one to one conversation. If he was stuck with me for more than 1 minute at a stretch with nobody around to help him out, he would turn around and pelt. He would run full speed and never look back. I used to find it hilarious.

Then there came T20 world cup 2012. I was there at home when the event took place and we watched all the matches together. He would comment, give his opinions, engage in a one on one with me, even jump up and down (though not as enthusiastically as me) with me during one of the crunch balls. I saw the difference and I loved it.

Now we gossip, we talk, we have fun and we play together. You have gone through so much at such a young age. Please do know that I am always here for you, if you need support, if you need a person to listen to you, if you need anything at all.

Whenever we have a family argument or discussion and when the noise level goes out of control, he would get up, stand in the middle of the house and yell "Om. Om. Don't be so loud. Calm down," with both his hand stretched out in the front, like that of a traffic inspector trying to stop traffic.

I don't know if our relationship means anything to you, but it means the world to me. I have always wanted a younger brother and I am so happy that you opened up and included me in your life, however small the role I play in your life may be.




-Aishwarya Kumar

Hope is such a powerful feeling

I have seen nothing like it. I have never encountered something so powerful as that. Everything else seems petty. I have always heard people say "hope is the only thing that is more powerful than fear." Now I know what it means.

My mind knows that the chance is gone. My heart screams out that reaching the semi-finals is impossible. They had to score 10 runs in the last 4 overs with 4 wickets in hand. It was a cake. It was as simple as breathing. But still, when a wicket was taken, when the batsman was beaten, the heart jumps up till the throat, does a somersault and leaps into the mouth. Something comes alive inside. A light in the darkest of times. A small ray of hope. A fragment of positive energy. This energy over powers every other feeling, this feeling over takes all others and takes such a deep root inside of us that shattering it is close to impossible.



When 121 was crossed, when Virat Kohli rubbed the tears off his face, when Yuvraj screamed out in joy after picking up two wickets, when we knew that the inevitable was going to happen, that feeling, that energy, that ray of hope, just turns into a heavy ache and presses us down, makes us feel like we are carrying the burden of the whole world. This is what hope does and this is what the final acceptance of truth and the inevitable does.

Till 121 was reached, till I heard the commentators say the words "...And Pakistan are through to the Semis", that bubble of feeling, that fragment of positive energy was jumping up and down, telling me that it was possible, we would make it.

And that is what hope does to us. That is what positive vibe does to us. It overpowers all the other feelings, all the other possibilities.

Aishwarya Kumar.

The serenity of being alone

There is often a confusion, a state of surprise, a negative vibe when a person says "I want to be alone. I like being alone. I enjoy my company without the need to talk to or please anybody."

There is a huge difference between being alone and being lonely and I like being alone. I never feel lonely or in need of company during that state of mind because I am complete with myself. I don't find the need to be in a relationship or be in the midst of people always because that is who I am, a social outcast, a social anomaly.

A book is all I need to complete my world. The four walls of my room give me more company than most of the people I have ever met. The TV series that I watch makes me weep more than a most of the people's actions.

There is nothing wrong in being a social outcast as long as you are happy with what you are, as long as you are content with your life. If a book is what gives you happiness, then so be it. It is not necessary to party and get drunk in order to live a full life. A full life can be lived even through a book, even through the life of a character, even through the most ordinary of things.

There are people who have issues with being alone. These are the people who try very hard to please people, who go out of their way to make friends and who do things way out of the ordinary that people around them get creeped out.

The serenity of being alone, curled up with a book, watching a movie, a TV show, all by yourself is something surreal and the most joyous thing in the world.

Aishwarya Kumar.

The sun will rise.

Everything was dark around me. The night was so dark that it was not possible to make out anything. The stars forgot to shine. The moon was masked by the clouds. I was scared. I was alone. I needed a shoulder to comfort me, to let me cry. I looked around frantically, wanting to see someone, anyone. Nobody was there. I lost faith in everything around me. I cuddled into a ball in the corner of the road and tried to hide myself, cover myself. Sleep wouldn’t come. The shoulders that I badly needed never came and cuddled up next to me. A feeling of restlessness and uncertainty took over me. The world had given up on me.

It was then that I saw a small light, very far, very dull, but definitely a light, beginning to appear in the horizon. It slowly emerged out, magnificent and beautiful in its appearance. It gave me confidence. It gave me strength. It gave me faith.

The sun rose. World was enveloped in brightness. Everything was okay.

The sun will rise. The sun always rises, no matter what.

 Aishwarya Kumar.

The moment is gone..

The weather is overcast. There is a deep breeze. The trees are dancing. The sky is playing hide and seek with the clouds. The road is long and winding. There is nobody in sight. It is just me. Just me and the perfectness of everything around me. I see the speedometer reach 50kms..60kms.. It moved past 60kms. The bike is screeching in exhilaration. My heart says keep going. My mind says slow down, this is dangerous. My heart says be reckless, at least this once, when everything is perfect. My mind says no, be cautious. The war between the heart and the mind starts, but I am far away from it all. I am with nature, with the winding road, with the bend in the road, with the movement of the trees, with the pulse of the wind, with Mother Nature.

A puff of smoke hit me directly on my face. I woke up. Reality hit me. The moment was gone. I was back in the battle. I was back to win the war. The war of life. The war of the wars, which plagues every human being, not letting them live in that moment for ever. I came back to reality. But little did I know that I left both my mind and heart there, in that moment, where everything was perfect.

-Aishwarya Kumar.

A different feel, altogether!

I woke up every single day for a whole year, looking up at the ceiling and cocking my ears for the familiar sound of M.S singing her famous Vishnu sahasranamam, mom yelling along with the C.D. player, dad yelling over the racket that M.S. was creating, Pooja’s deep breathing. I hear nothing. There is dead silence. I look around me and then realize that the scenario is far from what I had wanted it to be. Two beds, next to mine, cramped together, and two people on the bed, sound asleep was what I saw. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and it all came to me. I was in hostel. I was alone. There was no mom to wake me up. There was no dad to yell at me for tying my lace wrong. There was no sister to fight with me when I fought for the last dosa. There was no M.S. noise to make me want to throw stuff and punch people out of the way (well, I guess I have told you enough about my burning passion for her voice!).

I moved to the common bathroom and saw my reflection on the mirror. My hair was red and bushy and my eyes were bulged up like that of a frog’s. I was somebody else totally. I couldn’t remember the girl I used to be a year back. I couldn’t imagine being the girl I was a year back. I was timid, with oily hair and never cared about anything but my books. Everything had changed in the past year. I found friends, I lost many. But finally, the people who made me strong are the people who are with me and who will be with me for ever.

Parvathya, a long haired girl with bright shiny face and the cutest dimple I had ever seen looked at me, the second day of college a year back. I looked back at her. She looked elusive and mysterious. She never talked much except for a few sentences here and there. She looked like somebody who had so much grief inside her and yet smiled. I liked her instantly. She said “I like the way you mix match with printed pants and plain kurtas”. I knew then that she knew nothing about how disgusting I dressed and how illogical and dumb my clothes looked. (I kept this fact to myself and parted with a courteous thank you) She became somebody without whom I cannot imagine a life. She became a part of who I am, a very vital part which will never leave me. I say “hello” on the phone like her, I over use the words “thrilled”, “dumb” and “bye” just to prove that I got it from her. I brutally insult her, I snap at her, I know I have hurt her, many a times. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve someone like her, but eventually I realized that I was there when she needed me and she was there when I needed her and I knew that no matter what, she would always be there for me, now and for ever. She squishes my ears like it’s her birth right, she bites it like that is her greatest ambition. There are innumerable movies that we have watched together, most of them out of sheer inability to listen to her go on about what a boring person I am and how I waste my life! I don’t even remember how many times we have gone on the purple scooty and how many times were so close to getting called up by the cops. Every day is an adventure with her and though I am kind of used to it, she surprises me every day. Her face is a sun, shining its best, for ever. She can make even the saddest day happy, what with her infectious grin. I asked her one day, “What would you do if I were being punched to death by a group of thugs?” what she said touched me. She said “I will protect you till my last breath. I will shield you.” Though I laughed it off, what she said was something any human would want another person to say. What she said would have made any person jealous. I will hold on tight to it, for ever. And this is for the number of people who have called you clingy and boring and what not.

“You have lost one of the sweetest and most amazing person on earth. You have lost the most caring and most selfless person I have ever known. You have lost a loyal and faithful being. I pity you. I pity your existence. You were given a chance to know her. You threw it away. You chose it, but you will never get someone even close to her again.”

Nidheya, a wild girl, who I never noticed, even two months into college, was a surprise package. A voracious reader, she was one of a kind. She had wild ideas and a creative brain and struck me as someone different and ingenious. She talked and talked and talked and never felt bored. She can make conversation even in the middle of the night. She can talk about anything from books to T.V. shows to movies. She introduced me to some amazing series and made me read like a maniac. She never left it at that, she called me up in the wee hours of the night to talk to me about it. We slowly got to know each other. There was something definitely unique about her. She wanted to color her hair purple, wanted to get high only with people whom she could trust and she wanted to talk. Yes, so you get the point. Addicted to Harry Potter, and many other book series and T.V. shows, she made me want to read and watch them as well. I never really got to know her when I was with the people who I actually thought were friends. When I did get to know her, I somehow always think that she was the person who brought me out of the shyness and made me a strong person. We have gone on innumerable photography expeditions, have spent hours at a time talking about characters in a book, have spent hours at a time, skimming books in land mark.

“Oie you are getting late for college! What are you doing, staring at yourself in the mirror?” I started and looked around and saw my room mate, eyeing me warily. I brushed past her, muttering something about no freedom and no time to get lost in thoughts.

I am at my grand mom’s house. My mom is here, to do everything she can to reduce my grand mom’s burden during my stay here for my internship. She wakes me up every morning. She even fed me dosa today. The familiar sense of being looked after crept over me and I smiled to myself. I touched my mom’s cheek and she looked at me, quizzically. I just waved and left the house. She came running after me, to say bye. She waited at the front door, waving at me, till I went out of sight. I remember standing on my toes to wave one last time before the red car swept her away from my view. I walked towards my goal, content that I have people who have made me who I am. I walk, happy that I am wanted. I walk across, feeling immensely up beat, content about how my life has turned out.

Cheers,

Aishu

A role model in the making

The morning was hot and humid. We were grumbling about the summer internship as we made our way up the class. What we did not anticipate was the man who was standing inside the class when we reached. I looked at my watch and exclaimed out loud,” wow, I am on time. That means he is early.” I was surprised. I was inspired. The lecturer who was to conduct the photography classes for us this internship came ahead of time.

I settled down in my chair and looked at him. He was tall with grey hair in the sides. He was some where in the mid fifties, I guessed after doing my math. He wore a long red line on the middle of his fore head. He wore glasses and smiled a lot. He said “This is not a class room. This is a place where both of us will learn and explore.” He smiled down at all of us. I was beginning to like his entry.

From then on, the 12 day internship classes with him were a blur. From teaching us the techniques of photography to showing us his beautiful pictures of tsunami and cricket, he bowled us over. He was funny, he was genuine, he was humble, he was honest. I started looking at him with awe. Nobody had it all in them. He did. He made learning a new and exciting experience. He is my role model. He is my guru. He taught us what photography is. He taught us what life is.

I know most people will not understand how anybody could become so attached to a person in such a short span of time. But I did. 12 days were enough for me to know him and revere him.

“Life is a race, thum nahi baagoge tho ….” He said that in Virus style and the class burst out laughing.

There were assignments, there was lots of work to do. But there was enjoyment and a kind of enthusiasm that cropped up inside me and sat in the middle of me during the internship.

I wanted to make something for him on the last day of the internship. I drew a camera on a big piece of paper. My friend wrote a brilliant poetry for him. We made the class sign. When we gave the hand made card to him, he read it for about 5 minutes. I could see it in his eyes. He was moved. He said “even if you had bought a card and given it to me, it wouldn’t have had the same impact. I am so moved. Thank you so much.”

When he left, I had tears in my eyes.

I know life is fast. I know people move on. I know some day you might not even remember me. But you will remain my favorite teacher and my role model for ever. Thank you so much for deciding to take classes for us in your bust schedule. Thank you for making us feel special. Thank you for sharing your experiences with us.

Cheers,

Aishu

Dearest Damon,

                        I feel betrayed. I feel upset. I feel empty. More than all, I feel frustrated. I have seen you grow, seen you make mistakes, seen you say sorry, seen you cry, seen you tearing people apart, seen you fall in love. I knew I would never stop loving you from the time you said “Hello brother” in the first episode.

Your unconditional love, your stirring compassion, your pure soul, has taught me so much. Below the wit and sarcasm lies the most tender heart. You never expected Elena to choose you but her decision broke your heart. I saw it in your face. Some times I feel I understand you more than her. Sometimes I feel nobody ever understood the deepest portions of your heart.

When she said that she chose Stefen, some part of me just broke. Even if she comes back to you, even if she realizes that she loves you more, I don’t think she deserves you. I don’t think she even knows that she is playing with your feelings. Heck, you deserve a lot more. You deserve I love yous and kiwi fruits.

Our tear gland was on a roll today. “It will always be Stefen, wont it?” you just knew the right thing to say to make us all weep, dint you?

No matter what Elena thinks, no matter how Elena feels, we all love you. We will always love you. It will always be Damon.

You are not a fictional character to us. You are our inspiration. You are so close to our heart that it is difficult not to weep for you. You are and will always be our favorite.

She chose the safe option, she chose the good option. But you are her best option. I hope it isn’t too late by the time she realizes that.

Even if she doesn’t deserve you, I want you to be happy. And you will be happy only if you are a part of her life. I am thus still pinning my hopes on Delena and I will always.

Your fan,

Aishu

The man who taught us the art of patience.

Dedicated to two of the most wonderful people in the world

Rahul Dravid- without whom I wouldn’t have learnt the art of patience, without whom I wouldn’t have started watching cricket in the first place, without whom I would not have learnt how to look at guys and call them “cute”, without whom cricket, is incomplete.

Gokul Ram- without whom I wouldn’t have got the emotions to write this, without whom Dravid would have not had the most ardent fan of his, without whom the loss of Rahul would not have been so impossible.

 Patience is an art. It is the most difficult of all arts. It is the most respected of all arts. It is the most difficult to master. The master of patience will have nothing to fear. He will have nothing to worry about. This master will find his place in all the hearts of human being. He will live and make other people see his way of seeing things. He will pour out his heart and soul for the cause of other people and will live to show what it takes to respect and be respected.

      From “jammy” to “the wall” to “Mr. dependable”, Rahul Dravid has come a long way. He has built a wall in the hearts of the people and never once did he shatter the wall of trust that millions of people built in their hearts for him. A small cute boy he was when he first walked into the field in the year 1996 against the mighty Lankans. He has transformed into a soft leader, an amazing architect of the game, the irreplaceable aspect of the team, the wonderful beginner of the game, the scintillating striker of the ball, the mesmerizing defender of the ball, the biggest and most enthralling wall of the country, of the world. Now, it is the pain of reality that stands before us: his 20 years of cricketing carrier is over. The wall will never come back to protect us, to soothe our anxious mind during times of India’s struggle, to stand there and be there for us. He has gone for good, a decision well taken, but he has left behind a gaping hole in the hearts of millions of people, I included.

         Not once did the over nosy media find fault with his personal life, not once was he scrutinized for wrong doings, not once was he reprimanded for carrying out something which he shouldn’t have. My best friend always says that a man will become totally brilliant only when his skills are accompanied by the best of characters and the diligent of manners and behavior. His respect for mankind, especially women, is what places him millions of miles apart from the common man.

        Yes, he is a father, a husband, a son and a grand son, apart from being a cricketer, but what he has left behind in the annals of history is a combination of all the traits of a wonderful person and a person whose footsteps will be followed but in vain by millions of ardent fans of him.

         Moved to tears, we were, when the news of his retirement came out. He was calm and composed, never once losing his control. But the people around him and the infinite fans watching in front of the television sets found unanswerable tears falling from their eyes, unable to fathom the degree of the loss. This is One of the biggest losses to the history of cricket and has created such a deep impact on the minds of the people to such an extent that the minds have rendered impossible to come out of the shock of the loss. Sure, people will eventually move on and live a life without Dravid, but will never be able to stop themselves from thinking of him at every turn of their lives.

       Mahan sages tell that life is a circle, a Man is born, he lives, cherishes and then perishes, but in this case, Rahul Dravid will never perish. He will live in our hearts for ever, even after we are gone.

    

With unexplainable ache,

Aishu

The world is out there! Go grab it!

As I walked into the house with my grand mother tailing behind me, I saw a shy looking person walk across the room, hurrying after looking at us. He welcomed us inside ad ran up the stairs. His house was like a typical south Indian house, with statues and pictures of the different gods of the Hindu mythology. The house was strongly built and had an extension towards the right hand side with steps leading to the 1^st floor. We were guided by his mother and we walked up the stairs and entered the studio. The room on the outside had a few equipments to record music like mike, keyboard, a monitor and wires. When we were called inside the inside room of the studio, I looked and blinked and looked again. An amazing sound proof room with high tech equipments were all in place, ready to take off for the day. He asked us to take out seats in a black leather sofa and then took his place in a cushion chair opposite to us.

     “how may I help you,” Girishh asked, taking me by surprise. (I expected something like “shoot your questions”) I congratulated him on his success as a debutante music director for Pandiraj’s movie ‘marina’ and spoke for sometime about the innocence and depth of his songs in the movie.” ( in journalistic terms: breaking the ice) I then went on to ask him different questions as to how he got into the film industry and how he went about with the entire complicated process. He was quite casual with his approach to the whole interview and I realized that I was getting more and more comfortable as the conversation progressed. “take down notes, you. How will you remember all the facts otherwise?” my grand mom shot in (what timing, paati!) I had to deal with her for a few seconds and concentrated on the interview again. I got quite a few exciting tit bits out of the conversation and when I got out of the studio, felt happy and proud of the fact that I have made my start in the big wide world of media on a positive note and will hopefully take off and make better attempts on achieving a stirring role in the million dollar business.
P.S: Girishh bhai! amazing first attempt! way to go! all the very best for your future :)

Stifling my laughter all the way!

The six hours sleep that I had was not enough I guess. My mind was still not fully awake and my body was yearning to lie on the bed for ever. I got up from my bed, stretching myself and frantically rubbing my eyes to properly wake up. I got dressed for college, still half asleep. I knew the day was going to be long and hard because right after college, we had our spot news photography submission to make and this means: roaming around the city with camera in hand and all.

We left college, and left for our khoj of subjects which would make it for spot news. We usually enjoyed taking pictures of the diverse subjects around the city but one most annoying factor that we had to put up with while on this assignment is that we are forever infected with “guys-look at you-tease you-irritate the crap out of you syndrome.” Learn to live with it, says one of my friend, but it’s not so easy for me. My anger just gets the better of me when I see immature guys trying to make an ass of themselves by trying some ju ju ( in Damon’s language) in front of us. But let me tell you, it is usually a miserable flop because we don’t even look up to se what they are saying or doing.

We were walking on the road, cameras poised, ready to capture any significant occurrence when we saw two guys, both in blue, in a bike. They were doing some weird kind of dance. It looked for a second like they were flailing their hands and legs. Amused, the three of us looked closer, only to see them waving and dancing in our direction. What they expected us to do or how they expected us to react, god only knows, because the only reaction from our side was “acting like they don’t exist”.

Five guys walking towards us saw us with the cameras and one of the lot went,” you-camera-having-me, him; you, him-picture-take! (If you are wondering what that Shakespere was trying to say, here goes the meaning: you have cameras. Take pictures of my friend and me and then of us [you and me]!) all we could do was stare at him and wonder “Shakespere would feel proud of you, my boy!”

All this has become a part of our lives now and we still find pleasure in clicking pictures with pain-in-the-asses all around us! After all what’s the fun without facing some trouble in life!

P.S: The photography session went on well that day. we went back home, laughing as we thought of the number of guys we had to wad off that day!

To Ajji, with love!

I don’t know how one person can change your entire presumption towards life. But she did, and I am so glad I met her. A small, yet amazing personality, filled with life and the amount of josh and excitement she injects in you in wonderful. A charm spreader, a wonderful mother, an even better grand mother, she is one of a kind. She rambles on about life with hope and shares her experiences, the first time you meet her! The first day I met her, I realized she had so much to teach all of us. The yearn to fill us in about life could be seen in her eyes. A short, thin person with aged white hair, small but deep eyes, she struck me as a mystery from day one. Random stuff about music she spoke when we went to meet her grand daughter, the first time. Since then her random conversations has only grown, but it took me only a few meetings to realize that those random words had deep, deep meaning and experience to it.

From losing his husband when she was 21, to battling cancer, her will power saw her through. She worked at the meteorological department and raised her children with passion and motherly care. As a grand mother too, her care never diminished. Till date I never am able to understand how God had the cruel thought to put her through the greatest torture a mankind could ever suffer, cancer. Yet, she fought it, with her strong will power. She survived it. She spread her charm once again, this time, a little bit more fiercely, that it spread into my very existence. I look up to her as a person who has lived and cherished every moment of life, a person who is and who can guide us through all walks of life, a person who knows it all. To me, she is God, to me, she is an Angel.

She took us to the meteorological department, her grand daughter and me, to show us how it works. She spoke to her ex colleague, “we hold our grand children’s hands when they are kids. They are holding our hands now. This is the circle of life.” She again struck me as someone deep and pure.

The virus of life (cancer) decided to knock on her door again. She, the embodiment of Life, is put to test again. I know with all my heart that she will make it this time too. My prayers are always with you Ajji.

A token of love,

From,

your grand daughter

P.S : I want to be your grand daughter too Ajji.

the current of life!

I yawn and wake up, not at all ready to face yet another day of torment at college. It was a Saturday and Saturday is usually associated with the terms “sleep in”, “brunch”, “beginning of a long weekend” and so on. But that was not the case on the 1^st Saturday of the first month of 2012. Insane as it might sound, we were asked to come for college even on that god forsaken day of the weekend. I packed my bags and went, imagining nothing more than another stupid day in college with tons and tons of assignment and work assigned by out lecturers. The unraveling of the day could not have ever been imagined by any body. For starters, we did not have even a single lecture. We were let free the whole day. Once we were done wondering why we even came to college, we packed our bags and left. We were ready to go out into the hearts of the city to capture some really worthwhile pictures when we realized that three among the four cameras had decided to back out from the plan. We weren’t anticipating any drama from their side. But having understood the mentality of the batteries which run the camera (they are very moody and kinky. They work when they feel like, they take you for a toss if they don’t like you), we decided to start work the next day and let them rest for a while.

                   Impromptu always takes us by surprise more than the pre planned, fully jotted out events. “Come; let us all go to the beach.” That was how it all started. Two buses and some clumsy attempt by Nidheya to protect herself from the bumpy bus ride, we reached the destination, “The Beach.” The sun was out high in the sky and it was scorching hot, but the cool sea breeze helped us get to the mood of the beach. I ran in the sand, screaming “ beach, beach” at the top of my voice.( if you are wondering what people around me would have thought, let me remind you, I don’t care!) the two others were saner and they came walking, bags in hand.

                     There is something about the beach which triggers the child inside me. It would make me jump and scream out in joy and screech insanely. The first smell of the beach, slippery sand, the salty water, the first scared movement towards the water, the first part of the dress getting wet, the chill that creeps through the spine, the slow urge to move inside the water, the push that your body wants to take the dive into the water, the tides going over your head and you not able to do anything about it but scream and try to move away from it in vain, the jubilation of getting drenched, the high that ensues, the laughter that keeps coming, the last few minutes when you are too tired to even move and let the waves over power you, the silence that follows, the mind that starts thinking, the spaced out expression on your face makes it one of the best places ever to be in.

                  We ran into the waters, our faces aglow, all worries gone, evaporated with the water. From jumping, to running, to diving, to behaving like there is no tomorrow, we did it all.

                 A crazy girl, no doubt was sitting silently, thinking to herself, wondering what was happening around her. Her eyes showed that she was thinking something deep and the words that followed were the best and the most meaningful ones that she has ever spoken. “Today made me realize that some people did not make it to our present because of a reason. We will realize who will really be there for you and who will not. I haven’t laughed like this in a really long time. I am grateful to have you in my life.” When I told her that a wave could just take me away and all she could do was sit there and watch me being taken away by the wave, I could see fear in her eyes. She held my hand tight and said “I won’t let go so easily.” This is for you Nidheya. “No matter where life takes us, remember that the person who was right next to you, holding your hands when a high wave hit us on our faces, will always remain by your side, still holding your hands, guiding you and in turn getting your guidance for a life worth living.”

           The other one was sitting with the bags, deep in thought as well, contemplating where life was taking us. The three of us had a reason to be there this afternoon. Three strong pillars to guide each other through the strong currents of life.

Cheers,

Aishwarya Kumar.