A white pillow and a wooden cross...

The coffin was closed. The jasmine garland decorating it had already started to wilt. I caressed the small wooden cross.

The family burial chamber was a very very old type. The top, slanting slab was still intact. There was a trap door at the front. The coffin was pushed in through it and placed on an iron grid just below the ground level.

The trap door would be sealed. The bodily remains would drop down through the grid....join the mortal remains of those gone before her.

Till the trap door was opened again...and someone, his breath reeking with alcohol....his senses dull, would be sent in through the trap door. He would clean up the iron grid hastily and
keep it ready for the next person..

Then we all would go again. Singing hymns, some weeping, some numb, some just on looking and man watching...

Some with beautiful memories..some with not so good ones.. some curious..some just out of duty, wondering when it would all be over and they could go on with their precious lives..

The trap door was still open.

I could see the coffin placed on the cleaned up iron grid.

It was closed....Silent. The flowers had already started to wilt...

A soft white pillow daintily trimmed with white lace was placed on top of it.

It had been removed so that the lid could be closed.

People had started to leave....Some silent, lost in their own thoughts... Some talking to one other softly...Some laughing and chattering as they saw long lost friends and relatives.

Only we, the family remained. Each one lost in the last goodbye, the last prayers

The coffin was silent..but soft white pillow daintily trimmed with lace whispered to me...

'Even I was removed.'

I caressed the small wooden cross again...

It had also been removed from her hands at the last moment....’Becaus the Cross is never buried’ They told me as they handed it over to my hands.

I looked at it...

My mom in law had handed over...I had taken over.

Who would take it over from my hands? I wondered curiously.

Symbol of hope..

Vishu...

New beginings..

The harvest is over.

The barns are full

The new seeds are ready.

There is hope...

In the fertility of the soil.

The bounty of rains.

The smiling benevolent Sun.

There is hope..

In trusting our inner self.

In the love of our sweethearts.

In his grace that guides us....

New hopes are rising high..

'Happy Vishu' to all of you..

May all your hopes and dreams come true..

:))

PS.click on the foto for experiencing it fully..

Time..

u

To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the sun. A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill and a time to heal ... a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance ... a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to rend and a time to sew; a time to keep silent and a time to speak; a time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace. ecclesiastes 3:1-8
PS. My special thanks to the gifted person, Mr Rajesh Rajendran for being so generous and giving me these beautiful fotos.. and for the following words..
"Sun is the only witness of the events that take place in the world. Bright sun with its all good blazing rays could be attributed to the happiness of life and the dull one masked by the clouds to the sorrows. In your lines,the two aspects of life that is positive and negative are implied such as love and hatred;weeps and laugh etc.So, i am sending u two pictures that seemed suitable for me.."

Endurance..

She looked better… face calmer.. stronger..

‘You look good ..!!’I smiled at her warmly

‘Yes. Doc..! I feel better too..! See.. My hair is growing back..!!” She turned her head to give me the full view of her scalp.

Sure.. It was growing back.

‘Has stared to curl already…!! ‘I giggled.

She had come to me last May. With a lump breast. Detected two days after her husband’s first death anniversary.
Her unmarried daughter was with her. She has one more daughter she told me .But she was married. Now living in US.

She was jittery, over talkative. Fear clouded her eyes. She repeatedly begged me to give the report fast. Even though I reassured her that I would give it the next days itself.

It was CA. She was referred to RCC .

She underwent mastectomy and chemotherapy.

I watched helplessly as her inner self-crumbled several times and tears flowed down her cheeks as therapy ravaged her body and spirit...

She spent days in bed retching her guts out. She became pathetically thin. completely bald. Her eyes often looked terror stricken.

But today she looked different. Her figure looked fuller.. Her eyes were calm. Her gaze steady, as she smiled at me.

‘Eight months.’ She sighed deeply.

‘You survived it..!!’

I grinned back.
.
‘Why don’t u make a trip to US..? Visit your daughter..?’

I wanted her to come back to life fully.

‘No doc I prefer to be alone now.’ That calm smile again..
‘
Pray. Cook a bit. Take frequent rests’
.
‘Hmmm.. true..’ I nodded.

‘How you managed..?

I was eager to know how she has brought about the transformation..

‘It was tough doc. But I held tightly to god. Would’nt let go of him.’

Her eyes were earnest..

‘And I tried to find comfort within myself.’ She continued..

‘You know it’s always better that way. Only if you are unable to console yourself should you go to others for support’
.
‘Oh..!’. I was impressed.

‘Yes doc. The fear of relapse is always there.. but I trust in god. In myself.’

She got up to go. Then grinned at me.

‘You look lovely today..! “

‘Oh thanks…!’

I smiled back delighted

The room felt quiet after she had gone. I closed my eyes. I had witnessed true human spirit.. Human endurance and strength.

Trust in god. Don’t let go of him. Find strength in yourself..
So true...

April rain

I love this beautiful poem...

It is not raining rain for me,

It’s raining daffodils;

In every dimpled drop I see

Wild flowers on the hills.

The clouds of gray engulf the day

And overwhelm the town;

It is not raining rain to me,

It’s raining roses down.

It is not raining rain to me,

But fields of clover bloom,

Where any buccaneering bee

Can find a bed and room.

A health unto the happy,

A fig for him who frets!

It is not raining rain to me,

It’s raining violets. '

-By Robert Loveman (1864-1923)

ps.Love n hugs to ashi for helping me with the template.. Thanks a lot sweetheart..!!

Delusions..

The girl was in bed most of the time. She was not clearing her exams. She was not talking much.. Eating much.. Not sleeping much either..

I requested her parents to wait outside. I needed to talk to her alone.

‘Tell me Jamie..? What is your problem ?’

She stared back.. blankly.
.
Her face looked puffy and pale.. The eyes dull..

‘Tell m.’ I repeated.. smiling cajolingly.

The blank stare again..

‘Jaime are you afraid of something some body? Worried?’

‘No.. Its not fear.’

Then?

I knew it was not anxiety.. her expression was too dull for that. I was just poking around. Trying to instill some response in her.

‘Err.. Hmmm.. Thoughts keep coming..’

;Thoughts?’

‘I keep getting these thoughts..’

‘What thoughts?’

‘About one person.. I love one person’

‘Love..?! Great...!!

I smiled sweetly
.
‘What does he do?’

‘He is a teacher.’

‘He loves you too?’

‘Yes.’

Yes.. She believed it. Her eyes told me so.

‘So what’s the problem?’

She glanced at the closed door

‘He is a Hindu..My parents don’t agree.’

‘Hmm.. ‘ I nodded..’So tell me more about him’

‘He is a teacher

Where does he live? How u met him ?’

‘He gave me tuitions’

‘Hmmm..’

‘And’

‘Yes?’

‘He is married ‘

‘And he loves you?’

‘Yes.’

I looked at her dull and washed out churidar . Her cotton shawl was crumpled

‘He wants to marry you ?’

‘Yes. But he will not tell that.’

‘Why?’

‘That’s the understanding between us.’

‘Understanding?’

‘Yes. When he says I don’t love you he means‘ I love you’

‘Oh…!’

‘And when he says I must not call him he means I must keep calling.’

‘Hmmm..’.

‘Any kids?’

‘Yes. Two girls’

‘He loves you..? He wants to marry you…?’

‘Yes.’

The blank stare again.

‘Ok. Call your parents... and Jaime please waits outside’

‘Your daughter suffers from delusions..She needs psychiatric evaluation.’

‘Delusion ?’

‘Yes…fixed false belief. typically occur in neurological or mental illness’



‘Oh..!They stared back at me.’


‘The false belief is firmly sustained despite what almost everybody else believes.. despite obvious proof or evidence to the contrary’

Some patients belive that their spouse is having an affair.. some that their neighbours are harming them …some that their co workers have ganged up against them ‘

‘They will not belive belive that even if you try to convince them. They suffer a lot of agony thinking its true.’.

‘Your daughter belives that a married man wants to marry her.’
.
‘Yes we know.. he is also upset because of it.’

‘We took her to a priest for counselling..’

‘No counselling will not help now..’
‘Her delusionsWill start to break down after six to eight weeks of treatment.. Then conselling may help.’

‘Till then don’t support her views or tell her she is wrong.. it will only aggravate her distress.. just be neutral..’
I refered Jamie to a psychiatrist.. Ifelt disturbed the whole day.. I could imagine her pain.. her despair..

Do you know anyone with fixed beliefs that’s obviously wrong to everyone else.. ?

Do you feel that you reach a dead end ..a blank wall when you talk to them….? Don’t just get frustrated.. consider if it could be delusions.

Delusions have wrecked my friend’s life.. Proper treatment at the right time could have prevented it..

That’s why I wrote this post..

Fading 2007..

The New Year is arriving..

Last year was a good one.

Lots of love and laughter shared.

Good health.. Good boss.. The two things we have least control upon.

:))

I feel blessed. Let me thank for my countless blessings

Let me move on with hope in my heart. Cocooned and safe in the unconditional divine love that is my birthright

Praying for the strength and wisdom to make the right decisions.

For the grace to see goodness in everything
Gautam will be completing his plus two. Hope and pray that his hopes and dreams come true..

WISHING YOU ALL A WONDERFUL YEAR AHEAD..

PS. Thats the pic of Palayam Church taken today at dusk..

my blog was reviewed

http://avidblogreader.wordpress.com/2007/12/06/hope-and-love-blog-review/

Hope And Love’ - Blog ReviewDecember 6, 2007 — Ishq

Hope and love are not the only things, what this amazing lady ‘Anu’ from God’s own country offers to all in her blog ‘Hope and Love‘. It has all the human emotions that a lady can sustain. A doctor by profession pens down her medical encounters and peronal get-a-alongs with absolute charm and uncomparable mixture of reality and philosophy. Most of the author’s blog entries are her trysts with her patients but when it surfaces from a women who has such an ability to put life into each words it touches the inner core of your soul. There are a few blog entries which sent shivers down my spine. Though most of the blog entries are mentionable, the ones which cannot be missed are ’Pandora’s Box’ and one without a title posted on ‘Wednesday, May 30, 2007′. I am impressed the way by which simple relationships and day to today events interpreted with such soulful thinking by the author. The art of writing the personal incidences in form of a story is worth praising. Each entry has a picture corresponding to the titles of the blog entries.
The blog has a dull theme and the appearance is not upto the quality of the writing in the blog entries. The blog does not attract the the visitors until they read the blog entries. The navigation of the blog is simple and similar to other ‘blogger’ themes. The blog started in February of 2005 and has more than 60 wonderful instances to read to your heart’s content. There has not been much activity on the blog recently. The last blog entry was on Nov’24 2007 when I reviewed the blog. I go ahead and give this wonderful blog a 3.5/5. I would offer a few suggestions to the author of the blog:
use a theme which compliments the content which you are writing and also improve the overall appearance of the blog.
update the ‘about me’ section or provide a link to your orkut profile, people will appreciate the blog more, the more they know about you.

Blood guilt.

‘Pregnant..??’

The stricken eyes gazed at me. The smooth cheeks burned.. The full lips trembled.

“Yes pregnant.. About 6wks”.

‘But.. But we used condoms.. Always..’

She whispered.
‘Condoms are not 100% safe.. Didn’t you know that..?’

‘No.’ She stared back.. Blankly..

‘Well, you are pregnant.’ I repeated allowing the news to sink in.

‘Talk to your boy friend. Get married… Fast..!’

I smiled at her.

Marriage… him..? no..’

‘But you are pregnant.’

She stared back her face pale..

‘But we never discussed marriage..’

‘Never..?!”.Why.’

I was confused.

‘Our paths are different.... Our families will never agree. She wouldn’t look at me.

‘Different religions. Different backgrounds. He is a Muslim’.

‘But.’

‘I was now utterly confused.

'We are lovers. But marriage is out of question. It was made clear from the beginning itself.’

‘We used contraceptives. Always.’

‘So you want to have abortion. .

I felt anger bubbling up my gut.

‘Abortion. ? No. Its murder…’

The lovely face was deathly pale.

'You plan to deliver the baby?'

She was silent her gaze fluttered. She looked trapped. Cornered.

I leaned forwards and rested my hands on the table. ‘Aparna you are pregnant. You can’t wish the problem away. The baby is growing every minute’

‘But we used contraception.’

She murmured to herself

‘Contraceptive failure is always a possibility.’ I repeated.

‘Sex should never take lightly. My tone indicated.

‘Confess to your parents. Shall I call them over here? Give me their no:’ I spoke softly. Gently.

She looked as if she would faint.

‘Take your time. Decide what to do.’

‘But abortion is murder.’ She said to no one in particular.

Don’t take a decision now. Think it over. Tell me tomorrow

I had many more patients waiting.

I watched her as she walked out in a daze.

Smart. Forward..Good looking... Professional. ..Self sufficient.. anyone who saw her would credit her being all that.. on first impression..
'Forward' enough to consider sex without marriage

She was now facing the age old problem.

'Women are women. You should have been more careful.'

I wanted to tell her. But what was the point? The damage was already done. She had already learned it the hard way.

She never came back to me. I don’t know what her decision was..

I sincerely hope it was not abortion.

The easy way out.

Murder.

Bloodguilt.

Peace..

Mr Moorthy died. A few weeks back.

His wife came to see me today. To collect medicines for her sons.

Mr Moorthy was conscious almost till his end. The morning he died , he called both his sons to his bedside.. He hugged them and blessed them. His eyes overflowed.

What pains me deeply is that nothing definite has been arranged regarding the sons.

Who will take care of them once their mother too passes away...?

From what I understood, they had expected her brothers to take care of the two sons after taking whatever property they have. But it was towards his end that they realized that it was not going to work out.

She is now searching for some institution which would take care of them.

I felt so sorry for the old woman. Widowed at 72yrs. With not much education or exposure, she is somehow grappling with her life, alone, burdened by her two sick sons.

I told her to do something as early as possible. To arrange something with the help of her brothers. Meanwhile I would also try to contact a few institutions.

May God help her.

May his soul rest in peace..

PS. I had written about Mr.Moorthy and his special family on March 6, 2005.