The deep dread..

I glanced at my watch…

6.35pm.

“I should have remembered that it gets dark early in November. “I chided myself.

The lights of the traffic roaring ahead colored the raindrops blue, green and red… It had started to drizzle.

Peeps was away. My car was in the workshop. It had been a casual Saturday shopping with my boys aged 7 and 5... Not that I needed anything urgent.

Just an excuse to pamper ourselves. Wandering through the shops.. Cosmetics.. Clothes.. Black forest cake and Milkshake with Ice cream for the boys.

Gautam was raising his face to the sky in abandon.. His tongue catching the raindrops falling down.. His shoelace was undone. His tee shirt trailing down from his jeans..

Taj stood pulling my shawl.. he looked sleepy.. his jeans lay hung low on his hips.. the bottom trailing in the mud..

I tried to wave frantically at the auto rickshaws but they just whirred past ahead.. Fast..

I glanced at my watch..

6.50pm.

“Lets walk “. I pulled them along. Walking towards Palayam.. I was sure to get an auto there

The rain was gathering momentum. The trees in the university college campus looked sinister..The VJT hall looked threatening in the dark. I looked for the reassuring policeman often seen near the Spencer’s.. No he was not seen anywhere..

Ooh..! One auto was slowing down..

"Where to..?" His eyes measured the three of us huddled against the rain.. Without even an umbrella..

“”Kumarapuram.." I shouted raising my voice above the rain..


“No.” He shook his head snobbishly...The auto whirred ahead..

The sadistic pleasure in the ‘no’ was evident..

Rain plastered the hair to my skull. My clothes hung to my body dragging on my steps.. I drooped..

I could feel the eyes on me.. Young.. Old.. Measuring.. Weighing.. Teasing.. Curious.. Inquisitive..

Touching me..

“Oh yes..!” Another auto was slowing down..!

I clambered in pulling my boys along before the driver could open his mouth.. could speak..

“Where to..?”

“Kumarapuram”

Rs.90.

“Ok. “I sounded breathless..

I leaned back on the seat.. hugging my boys towards me... my eyes closed thankfully..

I could feel Gautam’s eyes on me..

I smiled at him reassuringly..

His eyes gazed at me..

“Why did you agree..?”

“It is late na..?”

“But it is too high..” He sounded indignant.

“It is dark na..?”

"But it is not fair.."

He looked disturbed..

“You are a coward.. You allowed yourself to be bullied.. Emotionally blackmailed.. "

His eyes accused me..

How can I explain it to him..?

I boss and admonish men in my work place.. I don’t suffer fools or bullies gladly during the day. I drive alone in the city even after 11.30pm cocooned in the safety of my car.

But in the night.... surrounded by staring eyes. If I am alone.. I feel strange..

My confidence falls.. A familiar deep unexplainable dread cloaks me.. I feel the eyes on me.. My voice become high pitched.. My breath quickens..

And those eyes stare at me.. Disturbing me.. Making me want to run to a safe haven..

Maybe it is my fault.. Maybe my response brings out the killer instincts in those around me..

Yes.. Maybe it is my fault.. Or maybe it is the fault of the men in my State.. Who look at me as if they have not seen a female of the species..

I have accepted it as part of being a woman.. Infact I have even included it in my profile..


Recently Parvathy ventured out alone at night. in my city.. To assess the problems faced by women who travel alone at night..

There were discussions about it in the newspapers and TV shows..

I felt happy to read it.. At least some women were trying to change it, not just accept it like me...

To be an angel...

I have seen it happen in many blogs.. Now it has happened in mine too..
Anonymous posting insulting comments..



"this one reveals the several faces of the self proclaimed angel Dr….. … …..(my name) In blog, you could fool others, not always in real life. Those who know you.......... knows the real …….(my name)"

Frankly …sincerely… I am unable to recognize the anon.

.
I have received a few anonymous letters in my professional life too.. Insulting and threatening ones..

I know how I should deal with them.. Throw it into the dustbin and forget about it.. I do the first thing but often the words haunt and disturb me.. For a few days..

I wonder who the anon is.. And why she /he hate me..

I am a person who lives by my own rules.. I do what I feel is right..

I can be very bitchy.. if i feel that the situation demands it..

I am not here to “fool” anyone about my virtues..

This blog is only an expression of the goodness I would like to cultivate and share with others..
I blog only for positive emotions.. Cos I feel that we all need positive emotions in our lives..

“Angel” “hope” and “love” were chosen with these thoughts in mind..

There may be lots of negativity in our lives but I don’t think anyone would be interested to read about it.. Anyone would benefit from it..

I don’t come here to fight.. Or insult..

I come to love and share beautiful emotions

I don’t know if my posts sound too self-righteous and goody goody… If I come across as a self proclaimed angel..

The previous post was actually a note to me.. I posted it cos I felt that it may inspire someone somewhere..

I have deleted the comment and enabled comment moderation..

Cos I don’t want any negative emotions in this space..

Please..

But I would like to clarify something..

No I am not an angel..

I am just an ordinary woman.. Ploughing ahead.. Pushing ahead..

But I would love to be an angel.. Even if it is only for one second..

It is my dream…

The Universe Within..

There is a silent universe slumbering within me…

My only truth.. My only reality..

I can plunge into its mesmerizing depth and vastness.

Slowly.. Surely.. In silence and solitude…

This world is all that matters to me.... My outer world is only a reflection of this inner world..

This world has to be soothed, nourished and lovingly nurtured..

This needs constant focus on my part..

Physical vibrancy ..Contentment… Gratitude… Forgiveness... Sharing… Order.. Simplicity.... Prayer... A sense of contribution.. The right thoughts.. A lovely self image.. Silence..Stillness ...Contemplation....Love and warmth..

All these enrich and fertilize this beautiful world..

Rush.. sickness.. anger.. hurt.. bitterness.. frustrations.. guilt.. and treachery and jealousy drains and shrivels it…

When my inner world is lush, vibrant and enriched I feel great.

Lovliness, Sweetness, Laughter, Joy , Confidence and Glow oozes out of me…

Caring.. soothing..nurturing..healing and inspiring the people around me..

My gifts are unleashed…

I become the rippling ocean.. The mountain mist.. A valley of flowers.. The molten sun.. The drenched mother earth..

I become a lovely elegant pearl..

I become an angel...

Rituals and Routine..

Rituals and routine didn’t impress me while I was young..Spontaenity… Variety..Adventure.. Different from the ordinary.... That used to be my mantra..

But now I feel different..Order… Doing a few things.. The..same way.. At the same time each day.. Sooths me..

Ringing the bell in my boy’s room .. lying on the bed.. as soon as I wake up every morning…. Daily morning walk, seeing the same scenery and the same smiling faces.. …Watching the NDTV news …all the four of us… chatting and joking as we have breakfast... Saying Rosary and a Psalm daily.. Laying down my steth.. cell… glasses and pen the same way, on my table before I start my work….. Having specific dishes on some specific days.. Lighting the candle before our family prayers at dusk.... Watching the night sky in solitude and silence every night..Pampering my body and face with bath and lotions before going to bed.. The familiar fragrance of camphor melting..as I slip off to sleep..

Simple pleasures of life.. But.. Ha..! So soothing.. So comforting.. I find all these things stabilizing me ..I find it binding and connecting our family in a beautiful manner....

No they are not just superficial things..

There is tremendous power and strength in rituals and routine...

PS. Thats my familiar scene every morning.. I walk along that road.. I start getting withdrawal symptoms if i miss it for a few days..!!
:))

Alexis's Tag .

Awesome, Amazing Alexis has tagged me.. so here i go..



1. Most desired celebrity

Masculine.. sexy.. intelligent.. Adorable..warm..tender..
sensitive.. sense of humor.. He is the best...




2. Want to do this some day
Swim in the sea... don’t think I will ever do it..
After my drowning experience I am scared of water..






3. Want to visit this place
Mount Kailas and Manasasarovar...
Hindus view Kailas as the abode of Shiva, and for them
it is a goal of pilgrimage.
Mount Kailas (22,028 ft, 6,714 m), the famed holy
peak, is situated to the north of the Himalayan
barrier in Western Tibet. This legendary snow-shrouded
rock dome is one of the most revered pilgrimage sites
for Hindus, Buddhists, Jains and Bonpos
(Pre-Buddhists)
At the slopes of Kailas, a
stream is said to pour into Manasarovar and from this
lake, flow four of Asia's great rivers the Indus, the
Brahmaputra, the Karnali and the Sutlej.
I would love to visit there and dissolve in the
majestic silence... heart wrenching solitude and sheer
wilderness..



4. Random Favorite

Arundhati Roy..

Bold, intelligent, beautiful, spunky, straightforward,
has her own awesome style..
I fell in love with her on reading the first paragraph
of the ‘God Of Small things’…

My Mom's Cooking..

Kappa and Mulakupottichathu

Steaming cylindrical pieces of creamy white ‘Malabar’ kappa with crushed onion, crushed green chili /red chilly laced with coconut oil and salt..
Ooh..! My tongue burns in pleasure filled memories of those monsoon evenings as I soothed the spicy taste with hot coffee…watching the rain drops pattering down..

Ice cream
Milk, egg vanilla essence sugar.. Beaten and cooked over a water bath and poured into ice trays and chilled.. That was ice-cream for us.. Frozen and crunchy or smooth and soft.. We licked it up.. Greedily.. Like puppies..

Prawn fritters

Prawns marinated in spices dipped in corn flour paste and deep fried.. We gulped it down in dozens..

Pidi and chicken mulakuchar

The ultimate comfort food.. Globules of rice powder dough cooked in coconut milk and mild spices paired with very spicy chicken curry with fried and grounded red chilly.. Delicious.. Delectable. It is still my favorite dish..

Appam and mutton stew.
Soft lacy white appams with a bland ( she didn’t add much spices) mutton stew in thick coconut milk.. She prepared it for all those Christmas and Easter breakfasts.. Still do.. ( Appams are ordered these days)my sons pig out on them.. I too shamelessly..( That’s why she orders them these days I think..)
:))

Pal payasam
Just milk, rice, cardom, sugar.. I still don’t know how she managed to concoct that delicious semisolid stuff that filled us with heavenly sweetness

Inji kari and Manga kari

The steaming hot kanji, mangakari and inji Kari she made on Good Fridays.. Made us obsessively gulp down the lunch… our stomach growling after the breakfast that had been skipped..

Snehamoru
Light yellow bland buttermilk she made lovingly when our tiny bodies or minds were hurting. Along with plain rice it never failed to soothe out or troubled bodies, emotions or soul..

Cakes.
Rock cake, sponge cake, lazy daisy cake, lemon cake, chocolate cake,
I remember the aroma of the cakes baking in the oven filling our home … welcoming and tantalizing us.. on those long lost evenings as we walked into our garden after a hard day in the school..

Ribbon rice

The ultimate gourmet dish she prepared for special occasions.. Basmati rice, prawn with thick gravy, coriander chutney.. All these layered and baked.. To form a multicolored layered dish.


Bittu’s mamma tagged me.. Im supposed to write ten dishes that I miss from my moms cooking..and I enjoyed doing it..

Yes I miss my moms cooking…While I was a child she used to painstakingly try out new elaborate, exotic dishes while we waited in bated breath for the end product. Somehow she doesn’t do that now.

I enjoy cooking.. But I don’t have the patience to try out elaborate dishes.. I stick to simple yummy stuff.. 'Life is too short to stuff a mushroom’ That is my motto..

My mom is different.. Her ‘life’ is her family. She is so focused on cooking and caring for us..

My eyes are moist as I write this.. She injured her fingers in the grinder today while she was preparing breakfast.. Lacerated wound… two fingers with split nails.. Wound ha been sutured.. She is on antibiotics and painkillers.. She stays 200 km from me..I couldn’t go to her.. I just monitored everything over the phone. She should heal in a few days..

I can’t help thanking you mom.. For all the hours you sweated over the stove.. Stirring.. boiling.. frying and baking.. Burning your hands, cutting your fingers, scalding your cheeks. Eyes watering and sneezing over burning spices.. To quench our hunger.. Tickle our palates and make us grow…

people i wish would take up this tag..
silverine
alexis
geo
sarah
velu

Reading in style...

My son is reading the newspaper .. inspite of having such a comfortable chair he prefers to sit and read like that.. and of course it is the sports page ..
:))

wisdom..

"Be quick to listen,

Slow to speak,

And slow to become angry."

-proverbs( the bible)

I love this chapter in the bible.. It is a treasure- house of ancient wisdom thats relevent in our daily lives today....but its not so simple as it appears..
I wonder if Iwill ever be able to master the one given above..
:))

CHIVALRY...

“Vasectomy..??”

He looked at me in alarm…As if I had suggested castration..

“Yes vasectomy.”.

I spoke sweetly. Hiding the anger and disgust rising within me..

“But I will have to undergo anesthesia..”

“It can be done under local anesthesia..”

“I wont be able to go for work..! I will need rest..”

“Just a few days only.. you are a clerical staff.. you can go for work.”.

“Side effects..?”

“What side effects..? Nothing..” I was starting to enjoy myself..

She sat there staring at him with hopeful eyes.. Eagerly hoping that he would agree..

The man who had promised to cherish her.. protect her..


His wife the mother of his three kids.. She had undergone three caesarians..

And three induced abortions..


Why couldn’t he take up a bit of pain..?

Was chivalry something you read only in romantic novels..? Not to be expected in marriage..?



She was missing her periods again..

Her caesarians had been in a mission hospital that didn’t do family planning procedures..
His company paid for treatment there.. So she had not been sterilized even though her abdomen had been cut open thrice..

Our hospital was conducting a free laproscopic sterilization camp..

Someone had motivated them to come for the camp..

The surgeon was a bit reluctant.. there was bound to be adhesions inside the abdomen after the three surgeries.. passing in the laproscope and navigating it to ligate her fallopian tubes would be difficult..


The anesthetist was reluctant.. she had a history of allergic asthma.
.
He had created some nuisance in the ward when he was asked to sign the consent form for the surgery.. asking hundred and one questions to the duty nurse.. that’s why she sent him to me..

“I suggest that you undergo vasectomy and spare her from all these risks..” I smiled sweetly..”

“Anyway medical termination of her current pregnancy can be considered only after one of you undergoes a permanent sterilization procedure..”

I was firm.. I knew he wanted that.. didn’t want the burden of one more child..

He started to squirm on his seat.
.
“Well… what do you say..? There is definite risk for her.. I can understand your reluctance to sign the consent form.. “

I was really enjoying myself now..

Cos he didn’t want any risk for himself. was willing to put his wife to risk..but was not willing to sign the consent form.. wanted to blame the surgeon probably if something happened..

“Well what do you say..?” I persisted..

He wouldn’t look at me..

I leaned back on my chair..

“There is a definite risk for your wife. even though she is willing to undergo the procedure.” I couldn’t help making the dig..

“You can undergo vasectomy instead.. The procedure is much simpler and you are a healthy man.. I drove in the point..

“Hmmm.. hmmm.”...

I shall think about it.. He started to rise.. He wanted to make good his escape

“ I don’t think you have a choice.. abortion shall be considered only after one of you has undergone permanent sterlisation..and the surgeon is reluctant to do lap sterilization for her.”
.
He had vasectomy two days later.. he was sullen .. brooding … probably scared about his self-image... About his masculinity..

She underwent MTP two days later. ..quietly.. no fuss..

Didn’t she know that she had a choice..? I wondered.. Why were her needs not given importance..?


To use contraception..? To find a surgeon who would do sterilization along with her caesarian..?

To refuse abortion..?

Maybe she didn’t have choices.. I told myself.. Only he had that privilege..

After all he was the breadwinner.. Wasn’t he..?

Grit..

“When I was captured I was placed in an underground prison. I was angry and afraid, but I was also determined that I would not be defeated by the experience. During the first week of captivity, three points came to my mind, which were of considerable help during the long days alone. They were.

No regrets.

No self-pity.

No over sentimentality.”

-Thoughts from a prison cell from Terry Waite