Yatra naryastu pujyante

The KSRTC bus from Kanjirappally to Anakkal was crowded as always-packed with students. A man, in his late fifties boards the bus halfway and positions himself near the back door- midst of the female crowd. As the bus gathered momentum, he started leaning on the girls around- as innocuously as possible. When one of the girls asked him to move, he replied “don’t disturb me”- arrogance written all over his face!

From the day a girl starts traveling alone, she gets a piece of advice- always have a safety pin handy. You never know, it could be your only solace if a fellow passenger touch you ‘by mistake’ in his deep ‘slumber’. If you are to stand up for yourself and protest, you would be looked up on as an ostentatious female, trying to grab attention by framing an innocent man. You will be doomed if you were dressed in anything that would have lured him. What are these innocent men supposed to do when women around them wear such clothes and makeup-with a sole purpose to grab his attention! 

Over a year ago, a youtube video showed a gang of men molesting a woman on public road. Her mistake- she decided to step out to celebrate New Year, with her partner. What irked me more was the comment of a colleague. “Why did she go out late night? She invited such trouble to herself!”- This colleague happened to be a woman herself!  The bitter truth is that, in any rape / molests cases, our society introspects the girl moral fiber - first. Why did she go out late? She would have been wearing ‘modern’ clothes? – are some of the questions that come out of these dirty minds. Wonder what would be their thoughts on the 5 year old girl, one of the latest victims of the ‘rapathon’. We can’t expect much from a society that thinks out loud – it was the girls’ mistake to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Couple of days ago, a talk show on a regional channel, and the topic- should women be taught martial arts for her self defense or not.  I never thought someone would oppose this idea. Ahem….a grey haired man started talking about the two categories of women- angels and demons. He thinks those who fall in the demon category could be put through any such tortures and it was natural for such women to get raped. Others joined chorus stating it’s the women who are responsible for such atrocities. They ‘lure’ men and as a result, poor men are forced to rape. Women should not wear anything that would remotely attract men and should not step out of their homes after 6 pm.  In a nutshell, women are not supposed to enjoy the various rights the constitution prescribes to the citizens of the nation. If they do, it’s at their own risk!

The protests all over the country/anti rape crusade saw a stringent anti-rape bill getting passed-life term or even death penalty for the convicts. Even after the law being passed, there has been a battery of attacks- making a mockery of the whole system. From 5 years old to 60 year olds….. Every day a nirbhaya falls! 17 years ago- in Suryanelli, a small village in Kerala, a 16-year-old was sexually harassed and assaulted for around 40 days by several men. No protests, no candle lit marches or any gesture of compassion came her way. Her character was scrutinized in the court-rooms and at the end of the trial, 35 of the 36 accused were acquitted.  In the name of enquiry, the girl and her family, comprising of her parents and sister went through a lot of persecution. Relatives and friends severed ties with the family. Now aged 33, she knows her life will never be normal again- family and children, a long lost dream. This is the tale of a family who lost a battle against those who ruined the life of their 16 year old…

How safe are women in our country?  A recent study states that India is the worst country for women among the G20 nations. The very nation whose culture insists treating women with respect and dignity has been tabooed unsafe for them. Fathers, brothers, uncles, teachers……as the so called ‘guardians’ turn tormentors, how secure is the Indian woman? Learn self defense, carry a pepper spray, use apps that could alert your dear ones that you are in trouble…. We get to hear a lot of options- a lot of tips on how to save ourselves from getting raped. But, is this a solution? Will we be able to live free, without fear of falling prey to these animals? Will things change? Hope, I am not hoping against hope!

"Yatra naryastu pujyante ramante tatra Devata,

yatraitaastu na pujyante sarvaastatrafalaah kriyaah"

(Read:  Women are honored where, divinity blossoms there, and where women are dishonored, all action no matter how noble remain unfruitful)

What do you wanna be, when you grow up ???

“We’ve gathered here to celebrate the successful completion of Oracle Compression Activity. Congrats to the team who did an error- free compression.….. ” Clap Clap Clap….. I clapped too…. Transition, handover, SOW, SLA…… phew!!!!!! I just close my eyes and ask myself “what are you doing, Devi? where have you ended up???? Is this what you wanted to do in life?”

Are we all doing what we wanted to do in our lives??

The first profession that appealed to me was that of a homemaker. Mom, I thought was the luckiest on earth. She can stay back home all day and she need not worry about exams or assignments. I didn't really give much thought on the 'home-making' part, or the fact that she was into a role that left her with no time to herself. Later on- being a teacher fascinated me. I used to adore their power- the stern voice, the red ink pen - their legacy, the thin long bamboo cane, black board and white/multicolor chalk…. I so wanted to be a teacher that I started rehearsing my ‘teaching’ skills. Wrapped in a shawl (my version of a sari), a cane in one hand, I started teaching trees plants and the lichen covered stone steps. I had a student for real too…..Chandran, our maid Sharada chechi’s brother. I taught him all what was taught to me in school- least bothered if he understood or not and then would question him (the part I loved the most). He- for sure, would be clueless and would stretch his palm, for his teacher to punish him with her cane. How I wanted to be a teacher- the cane, the red pen, the saris, chalk n the black board….

Few years later, my dad asked me, “Do you want to learn music?” I nodded yes without any delay. A harmonium found its place in our chavadi aka drawing room followed by, Keshavan sir-the teacher, to introduce me to the world of carnatic music. Our grandpa presented me and my cousin bro before him- with an instruction to mold us to next generation Yesudas/Chitra. We were introduced to different versions of ‘sa ri ga ma pa dha ni sa-s. Never have my throat experienced such pressure, as it struggled to meet the varying sruti. My cousin stopped coming home on weekends for fear of having to pursue the classes and I-left with no other choice, continued my voyage with carnatic music for few more years. Did the thought of being a carnatic singer appeal to me??? I think so, except for times when my mom asked me to sing as part of entertaining guests. Yes, I have dreamt of singing at ‘kacheris’ (concerts)- in kanchipuram sari, a red round bindi, hair- adorned with jasmine garland…..

One fine day, on a trip to my grand-aunts place, I found a stethoscope- that belonged to her late father in law- an ayurvedic doctor. The moment the beat of a heart fell on my ears, I envisioned myself in a different avatar- the white coat and stethoscope around my neck. From that day when someone posed me the question-

“valuthaakumbo molkku aaraakanam???”    (Read-“what do you wanna be when you grow up??”)

I would say with a shy smile,” doctor”. Everyone wanted me to be a doctor to the point that our family doc Dr. Shamla promised a room for me in her clinic. But the very thought of a syringe/blood would make me feel uneasy. My rank in medical entrance test proved that it was not my cup of tea. Without much remorse- I started looking at other vocations. I ended up with an engineering degree and here I am- a drop in the IT crowd….. a vocation I never thought existed when I was posed with the question :-

“valuthaakumbo molkku aaraakanam???”

Yeh jo des hai tera.........

Rapes rapes everywhere….. every single day…. But you see,” highly dented-painted women” “should have called the culprits ‘brothers’ and begged before them to stop”. In fact, both the rapist and the victim are equally responsible- say some!!!

101 crore meant for betterment of poor, has mysteriously found its way to the pockets of politicians and govt officials.  They do have proof that shows a small part of the amount being allocated to poor. Alas! Those recipients are either dead/ fictional.

Two soldiers guarding the borders brutally killed by neighboring country army and we have a set of legislators – “lodging strong protests” while the other side, as expected denying any such incident.

Murders, hate speeches, conspiracies, homicides, extortions, accidents, scandals, more and more rapes- all sorts of incidents which make you want to run away from this part of the planet. I could take no more, I folded back the newspaper. I step out of our building, coughing as the thick fog enveloped me- it’s not the weather, but insect repellant. On the road- there lies, not one but many-dogs. Yawning-the sharp teeth on display, chasing the garbage collector truck, chasing two wheelers- well, it’s their kingdom. A young mom and her kid trying to shoo away one of them- in vain! One of them started barking and the whole community joined the barking competition. I mustered enough courage and walked, praying to get a glimpse of an empty rik. Relived on spotting one, I thought of one Ms.Gandhi and PETA and similar bodies and of Nirbhaya and many other unknown faces, of the fate of women vs that of animals.

I was running late to work. Roads-dug up for reasons unknown, traffic jams, eunuchs/young mothers begging with their kids. I can’t comprehend the state of my mind as I sat in the rik, oblivious to the begging! A man- running amidst moving traffic, to board a moving bus! A road roller, busy- filling potholes with crude stones- blocking traffic during the peak hours.  Whom to complain? Whom to question? I couldn’t help, but smile as Rahman crooned in my ears….

“yeh jo des hai tera….

swades hai tera”

...........

On a foggy morning, as the sun's gaze fell on this part of planet earth, I opened my eyes- from a nasty dream. I shivered- droplets of mist, all over me and fear deep inside my heart. The fear, that would accompany me till my grave! The fear - am sure is not unknown to mothers like me. I wake up each morning, ignoring my ill health, the cold weather, the urge to sleep- with a prayer on my lips- my children….. My pretty daughters……All asleep, blissfully unaware of the cruel world they live in.

Nothing makes me happy than the sight of them smiling at me, all in unison, all in glee…. I forget all my worries and smile with them, play with them. My children, my treasure, my world, my all….. I wished for them all prosperity, all happiness, all the luck they could ask for…. and a long life. They had dreams-fly like a kite, sing like a nightingale, dance in the rain…. I would lie awake, just to listen to them whispering to the stars and the moon. I saw them smiling….spreading their arms, embracing the wind and getting lost in their own world. 

It was just another day and I woke up, daring the cold weather and I smiled on seeing my sleeping beauties. They woke up- one by one and we all geared up for a cheerful day. What started as a mild breeze, gathered speed and we were all swinging in the arms of the gust- unaware of the gaze that fell on us- a dark cloud, set to spell our doom.  Our eyes met- I saw the man approaching us. He had the eyes of a hawk. He kept on staring at my children and I cringed as his palm caressed their soft cheeks. I saw the fear in my children’s eyes and the pain on having been touched with a palm that carried all the harshness of the world.  I screamed, asked him to back off. He smiled at me and touched the youngest of my kids- crushed her. I passed out before I saw her lifeless body hit the soil. One by one their petals fell.....

The agony of being a helpless mother, of seeing the worst of your nightmare come true, of waking up to see your kids- no more. I saw them get killed for the pleasures of a monster. I am alive and breathing- I live to tell the world the story of a helpless mother and of daughters, trampled  before bloom....

                                                                       

Joy to the world......

"Joy to the world! the Lord is come; 

 Let earth receive her King; 

 Let every heart prepare him room, 

     And heaven and nature sing,    

   And heaven and nature sing, 

     And heaven, and heaven, and nature sing...."

Carols...they've got a peculiar charm that adds to the nostalgia... The song that fades in and out in the cold December nights...In the land of latex, letters, spices and achayans….the spirit of Christmas is hard to miss!! The mild drop in temperature, fog that filters through the rubber trees, the vibrant cakes that sits atop the glass shelves of the bakeries, the paper made stars that lit up homes- it’s Christmas in the air. Temporary stalls selling Christmas tree/crib decoratives, greeting cards, crackers etc pops up everywhere-where all our pocket money vaporizes. We used to decorate school buses with color papers, balls, paper stars of all shades, bells, and what not!! There was a silent competition among the commuters of each route- to showcase their bus- the best... Before all the niceties of Christmas, there stood a hurdle- the terminal exams, aka Christmas pareeksha!! From the day the time table gets announced, it’s a wait-a wait to get out of the clutches of the exam monster and leap into the holiday season. A day after the exams comes the Christmas celebrations at school - secret santa and other games, house-wise carol/ x-mas tree competitions and that very evening on the way home, we would unceremoniously bare our school buses off all the sheen and glamour. Freedom from books, flurry of cakes, crackers, greetings...a lot of tv, a lot of sleep, lot of games…  

At home, we had an ivory wood tree, which we christened-our Christmas tree. Mornings, we would rush to the tree to check the damage the mist has done to the paper decoratives, and wait for the sun to tend to those-hurt. We kept on burdening the tree with all colorful things that came our way, till the end of Christmas season. Strains of drum beats in the middle of the night- the carol gang doing rounds- “Shaanta raatri, thiruraathri…” the Santa dancing to the song in the light of petromax lamps. The glee on seeing the carol singers and the sorrow that creeps into the heart on seeing them leave- taking away with them the joy of Christmas….It was sad to see the paper stars and trees disappearing....The joy of Christmas leaves your heart, with a promise to return, a promise as sweet as the Christmas cake....as bright as a lit star.... Sing with me, my fav carol……. 

 “Dashing through the snow In a one-horse open sleigh 

 O'er the fields we go Laughing all the way 

Bells on bobtail ring' Making spirits bright 

What fun it is to ride and sing A sleighing song tonight! 

Jingle bells, jingle bells, Jingle all the way. 

Oh! what fun it is to ride In a one-horse open sleigh. 

Jingle bells, jingle bells, Jingle all the way; 

Oh! what fun it is to ride In a one-horse open sleigh “ 

Merry Christmas, all…………….

Tale of a tiger balm!!

Couple of days back, as I opened my window pane, I found an empty bottle of tiger balm- on the sill. Every time I see a bottle of tiger balm, I get reminded of my maternal grandfather. Sounds strange huh? Its not that he had a constant head ache that kept him attached to the balm or so. I was his first grandchild and he never got a chance to pamper any other grandchild other than me before he left for the heavenly abode. I had the privilege of disturbing him/ commanding him to do tasks that would delight me. He was more of a buddy to me and I did take advantage of the freedom he gave me. My visits to my mother's house were limited and he used to wait eagerly for each of our stopovers. I was his little princess and much to my moms envy, I took over the coveted place of his darling. He used to tell me a lot of stories. I would wait till he completes one tale so that I could ask him to start the next. On one such occasion, he got tired with story telling. And it was my turn to nag him, asking for more stories. He was too tired to tell me another and so he faked head ache. A two year old granddaughter who had deep affection for her grandpa wanted to soothe him from the pain. The solution- she found a tiger balm and to begin with – she applied it on his forehead, then on his face as a whole. Little did she know that headaches are restricted only to the forehead, and so she applied it all over his body- emptying the bottle. Great love for her grandpa- u know!!! Unaware of those tiny hands spreading love in the form of tiger balm-all over his body, grandpa was fast asleep. Balm set on its work n forced my grandpa to wake up to a pain- known only to him. He yelled on top of his voice- bringing everyone at his reach. For a while no one realized what happened. All they found was a bottle of tiger balm lying all alone and of course-the strong smell of it. And the culprit!!! She was not in the vicinity. And the poor grandpa, though the pain didn't let him laugh at the joke his granddaughter played on him- took the matter light. To cool his burning body all he could do was plunge into the river behind the house. The granddaughter- gets taunted by her mother every time a bottle of tiger balm comes into picture…..

Love of my life....

A lazy Sunday…a lazy me, staring at the flashing images on the TV screen, a lazy fan running at the minimum speed cos of the lazy weather. Phone bell ringing…A male voice on the other side…. We spoke….We kept on talking…. Talking talking…. Until we met, a month later…
Did sparks fly???Did I hear bells chiming???
Our eyes met… we smiled…we greeted…and we spent a whole day with each other, tea n lunch n window shopping… and by the time he left, I wished the day was still young, wished I could spent some more time with him. As my phone rang and I saw his name flashing, with a fluttering heart, I spoke. We spoke for some more time and I realized, he too was hoping for the things that I hoped for “that the day was still young and if we could spend some more time together.” I couldn’t stop smiling as he invited me to spend the rest of my life with him. We giggled a lot….. and wished in unison, “we could have done this in person” :). So, on the 14th of Jan, Sanju & Devi meets for the first time and they fall in love with each other and decide to spent the rest of their lives together...to share all their joy n sorrow...to be on each others side- for ever n ever n ever...

It has been only 83 days since we met…in 83 days; he has become what nobody means to me in all these years. These 83 days has brought me more smiles, joy, memories and what not!!!It feels as though we have known each other for long, that our lives were intertwined and that we were so meant to be… Marriages, they say are definitely made in heaven.There is a heaven for sure, I know.


You meet as strangers and in no time, you become a part of each others lives, you become one…the most important person in your lives. The monotonous, otherwise aimless life suddenly becomes otherwise. You have someone to talk to, someone to listen to, a shoulder to lean, someone to share all your joy, fears and silly talks…. A pair of eyes where you see only you, a heart that beats for you, a mind that thinks of you… Suddenly you have just the two of you in your lives and you just cannot stop thinking of each other.

As my eyes darted, for the nth time on my phone, eagerly awaiting a message or a call…. I smiled…where were you all this while….. what took us this long to meet!!! Everything has its own time, I suppose….. n ours has started… ever since the day we met. I know it’s a long wait till August- 134 days to go!!! The distance and the time, we’ll dare it all… for, we are so meant to be…

I have you....

27 years of waiting …. a long one indeed….
27 years of prayers…. to all gods I know….
27 years of love….. all that my heart could contain…
Now that I have you by my side,
I can only smile……
can only thank heavens…
Pour out all that love to you…
Be with you, for the rest of our lives...