Friday, December 19, 2014

GAP.....?what is the meaning?

Friday, November 28, 2014

Divorce / A Story

 Shiv and Mythili sitting in a restaurant of some quality facing the sea and breeze coming through the windows not violently but gently like the characters of those sitting.,facing each other Shiv facing Mythili and she facing the sea.
Her mind tossing like sea waves although deep down she is calm having all the memories since both met first time in the same restaurant.Have they come full circle in their life together when she is hardly 30 and he 34.
Down memory lane ,first she met him in an art gallery depicting one of her master's drawing in black and white and canvas painting as well.She being a volunteer for her master, explaining the drawing to all the visitors who were curious to know , some deep , some first time saundered into the gallery just to know what it was.
"Excuse me ' 
This voice made her turn around to look at an young man around 5'9 or 5'10 in height and around 28 of age.
' could you please tell me the something about the drawing there, showing a girl standing at the bank of a river?'
'it is just plain or some......... depiction inner meaning '
'sir, pl see the caption ....... timeless river...'
'yeah right madam,...may I interrupt before you explain'
'it is ok , pl'
'does it mean ..river is life .... and she thinks before crossing it'
'in a way right ...but shall i proceed'
'yes pl madam'
'physical river as such is time bound .... owing to seasons'
'it is not a question of crossing ,but stepping into it.
she would step into it
and again come to the bank
again step into the river to travel..... since it is inevitable
she might think into the river so many times
but not so....... no one can step into the river twice or thrice
Painter means this river is of eternity
oh great
and she is young girl ..... going to enter the timeless river...that is why the caption
Oh !!!!!!!! great
Then that young man said bye and went away to look into  other drawings.
The exhibition was about to close and when time was up for leaving , she had seen that young man looking at a drawing and taking a snap of the drawing at one corner with his Digital camera.She waited for few minutes and went to him saying 'excuse me'
yes madam
sorry ,,, time to close sir
oh sorry thank you
you can come tomarrow also sir
no madam, I am in a hurry leaving for out station tomarrow morning
yes madam , anyway thank you for your explaing and I am shiv
Thank you sir I am Mythili
Are you a painter
Great to have met you .I am a writer in an English daily covering Kerala for Art and crafts.... and I do free lancing also
Nice meeting you sir.......would we get a chance in your writing and get published in your paper
sure but I have to meet your master for about ten minutes
I will introduce him to you sir even right now
ok thank you madam.
We talked with the Master and went for the same restaurant where we sit now , even if i remember correct the same table, me facing the sea , shiv opposite to me and master facing us , I on the left , he on his right.
And he gave his business card and got the master's card got my phone number also , telling he would send a copy of the News Paper when the article got published.
After a week's time , my master-teacher got a courier containing the news paper with the article and the article was concise,lucid and explanatory , and he even used the exact words I used when I explained the painting.I was happy and something inside deep down wanting me to see him again. I was wondering what kind of feeling it was making you to try or want to see someone .....
In a few days time, he called me 
' Hello.I am shiv madam, I met in your teacher's art gallery'
'Yes sir , I know I have seen your article sir in my teacher's home'
Right madam, to tell you that only I have called you .....I will send you a copy also..but I dont have ur address.....shall I send it to your teacher ?
No  I will give my address,pl note down '
Madam are you employed?
yes sir, working as Assistant Manager in a Bank
Oh then , art?
I do paint and that master is my teacher .
Good madam,can I see a few painting of you
oh sure, when u come next time to this place we will meet and show you a few of my paintings
good madam, bye for now .nice meeting you 
ok bye.
My heart's palpitation incresed ...why so , it never happened like this in my life although many men I met officially in my bank as Assitant Manager.Then I went into my kitchen to prepare night dinner.
Chapter 2

My bank being one of the Nationlised Bank , I go into my cabin and start doing the work , overseeing any problem at the counter which normally does not happen becaue the system is very perfect and employees are emperienced who know their work and know how to handle customers with courtesy and young recruits are few . Even if there is any problem or query which the younger ones not able to answer , the seniors in the nearby counter guide them , many of the seniors who continued as clerks despite the qualifications and experience. Many of them not accepting the promotions since their sons and daughters are either nearing school final or in college, if once promotion is accepted they would be transferred to far away places and they dont want to disturb either the kids' education or family convenience at one place.
The telephone is ringing........
Yes , speaking ...oh teacher pl tell me I never expected a call to my office , so took few seconds to know your voice.sorry teacher tell me
Mythili ,Shiv called me and told me he is coming down next week and he asked me to inform you , so this call.How is work child?
No problem teacher, I will meet you evening in your home.How is Amma?
She is fine .Thank you.I will ask her to prepare something for you for evening snacks.
No teacher dont disturb, i will bring something on the way
No , no it is a pleasure for us old couple to invite you and chit chat.
Ok thanks teacher . See you evening.Bye
Bye God bless.

Oh! shiv is coming next week and have to select some black and white pencil drawing for him to show , night I will select some tree drawings and landscape which I did when I went to Munnaar with my dad and mum last time .
A week passed and one wednesday my teacher said ,Shiv is coming and asked me to come to his home and would have dinner together.
Wednesday arrived and mornign I was a bit tense and unnaturally I stood few minutes before my cupboard and selected my saree and matching blouse , even seemed odd on my part to behave like that.But anyway I consoled this was natural to behave like the way I did for the age group I am in , despite my learning over a broad spectrum of books ranging from Novels,Essays,Philosophy, Religion,spiritualism; but balance is a bit lost if anything personal happening although we are strong when counselling happens to others.Even my father does not attend Surgeories for our relatives.........oh I have forgotten to tell , my father is a General surgeon attached to a big corporate hospital in my city .All the books of various disciplines made me study what I read in my life.My dad is a voracious reader and a writer also although he writes in pseuo name.
When I entered the bank my routine work and administration took my time and my mind never deviated but when the clock showed 5 I became nervous a bit , although I leave around 7 or 8 o' clock my branch, I told my chief manager that I had to go for my personal work and he said ok.

On entering the house I said "good evening sir to my teacher'
Seen already Shiv sitting there and I said ' Hello'
Good eve, madam
Shiv,have you taken coffee or tea
Yes of course, Amma gave me good tea and snacks.
Amma came to the hall and invited me inside to take tea and snacks.
Excuse me sir, I be back in a minute'
I gave the drawings to the master and asked him to show to shiv , master smiled and said 'yes sure '
After the refreshment I came back ,sat before Shiv , shiv was seeing the drawing.
He said ' trees and landscapes'
Meanwhile teacher went inside to talk with Amma for night dinner and arrangements.
Yes trees etc I had drawn When I went to Munnaar
Good it is Mythili .Is it easy to draw trees ?
' yes and no..... because ' I stopped
Why? I dont know drawing Mythili'
'Oh, well trees or anything we look at it three diamentional , we can either go to a place to select a tree or seeing a picture we can draw and some draw out of imagination'
'in case we select a tree , the tree has to be balanced'
yes when you see a tree some branches are going in the right , left, behind, and some coming towards you, because once you select a unbalanced one symmetry would be distorted and the completeness may be a lacuna'
'and some branched going upwards and swaying when seen from your angle'
'and again the sunlight on tree will be bright on some portion, light on some area and shadow .... likewise shadow below the tree'
My God ,photography seems easy'
'photography is also tough, only professional knows how tough it is'
well May be right'
'So even further deep you want to go you must visit, if you have chance , when spring comes, so you are able to look at the tree like a Doc sees the X-ray'
'Oh you are very deep in it Mythili'
Although I never show emotions out , I could make out I blushed a litte which he noticed and happy about it also.
Teacher came back and preferred to sit in the garden , teacher explained how I came into literature and arts although my father was a surgeon and I being the only daughter of the family.Shiv asked me why I did not take up to medicine, I said I had the independance to select what I was interested and my background of having studied so many books and access to my dad's libraray , may be that made an inclination towards literature .
Shiv said he finished his post graduation in English in Chennai and went to Jawaharlal Nehru University in Delhi to do journalism and went into news paper , and after intial training came into covering arts and pintings for his paper , may be after few more months , he might go to someother assignment in the same News paper.
After dinner he was about to leave he said he was leaving to Mangalore for official duty and would keep in touch.

Chapter 3

Now sitting in this restaurant where we met first time , the circle is to be completed... a tragedy or fate or incompatibility.
Does incompatibility come between husband and wife if both are educated and intelligent? Instead of thinking in a braod way why we start or he starts or I start thinking that this relationship is coming to an end.Now what he would be thinking in his mind....... I am haughty or egoistic or nose in the air type......... what ..what went wrong between us.Certainly money not a problem, I know since I earn enough, he also earning enough besides being a daughter , only daughter who inherits hell a lot of property.... then why?
I remember once we went to Thirupathy by train and stayed there.The environment was clean , fresh air and aloofness.He was clicking his camera outside the temple in various locations, I talked with him and immersed in my books when  found time.
But he is not someone who wants to go out since his job involved him to going to places , various places in India.I needed an outing since my routine being bank and home and not of many friends except a few who are of my type , bookish and decent , not talking nonsense.
So whenever holidays come, he was preferring being in home and I did not have a choice although we could have anywhere in the world for the money we had.But never ever went out freely and he never thought it was tiresome for a wife who would always go for work, cook,and talk.
Was it my depression owing to my confinement inside the house which might have made me react that would have harmed him mentally?
First I thought this is so with all the married girls but I knew many couples and my friends who go out to many places and enjoy life if not for enjoyment , at least for relaxation .
What use the money has , if the life is not well lived with minimum things? It is a different story if we are poor and not able to spend since always making both ends meet is a problem.
Then what went wrong ,..... love making I know and he knows.what else would have been the reason that pushed us to this corner of separation.
He discussed with me yesterday that by living together both of us making problem for ourselves, so better to separate, although shocking to me intially , when practically approached ,seemed correct.
Now today the last meeting , so we came out to the same restaurant where we met first time.
I looked the sky through the windows ..... stars, moon and far away meteors .Do they know my mind?
'Mythili, shall we leave?'
Do you have any hard feelings about our separation .... I think enough time we have given to think over this and now come to the conclusion?
Nothing is permanent in this world except impermanence

One day events in My Diary / A story.

 5 o' clock

usually I get up morning and say few times my mantra on a particular deity and open my room's toilet  , wash my face and come back.Today in the early morning may be around 4.30 or before , I am not able to find out correctly ,have seen a face which stuck with my mind.Even now I am able to recollect , if am able to draw, I could draw right now.Well, it is like other dreams , when we see familiar faces, sometimes unfamiliar faces, but after getting up we are not able to recollect .This is strange.A boy who is helping me maintain the house stays with me , brought the tea, sipping the hot tea , I am writing my diary.

 6 o' clock

 Reading the news paper, both English and local paper , talking about he budget, Industries welcoming the budget, unfortunate no one like Nani.Palkhivala talks about with clarity, all Industrial and economic jargon.Revenue,fiscal deficit, budget of long vision,well posed budget, I think , the very budget is nothing but the dictation given by the industries in democracies, India not being an exception. 

 The so called benefits to the poor will go more than 60% to the politicians, rank and file, bureaucrats etc.,

 Still the face hunts me , some round face, with bright eyes,teeth like the Ad we see for tooth brush or tooth paste. 

  7o' clock

 I am getting ready to start for my college, oh I am working as a Professor of English, who is known for my closeness with students and take class in the line of the syllabus , sometimes to make them alert talk about the novels in English and other language.Ready after dressing up , I am sitting in the dining table , my helping boy brought something to eat which I eat without being conscious of what it is.

 That face.........some where seen or not seen .... just a consciousness bringing up a face which either might have seen in a magazine or paper or somewhere in the town while shopping.Even then why should this disturb me to this level. 

  9 o' clock  

Smiling , entered the class room of the final year students , almost everyone name is familiar and they know my nature of lecturing which goes beyond the syllabus, success is some of them would like to be journalist and some even writers although everyone will aspire for Post graduation.If a few become writers , I will be proud of my profession   Today , being away from the subject, I started asking as to whether they are interested to know one novel written by one of the finest writers in English.Having got the 'yes ' from them , I ventured into ' A Suitable Boy ' by Amitav Ghosh.

 It is a book more than 1300 pages which normally even real readers find impossible to finish early , some take long time, some read with brief intervals.    The relatively large number of major characters in the novel is itself a bit startling, though the family trees provided are helpful here. But then there are the relatively minor characters, dozens of them, and the crowds of incidental figures, and, literally, the crowds. Then there's the historical detail. There isn't a lot of straight exposition, but there are long sections of political wrangling, most of which require at least some contextualizing (though one striking feature of the novel, I think, is how much it opts not to explain). And there are details of other kinds, too, crowding the book: clothes and books and food and drink (lots and lots of food, and many, many drinks) and religious rituals and holidays, both Hindu and Muslim. And cricket. And shoe-making. And curriculum wars in the English department. And singers and songs and musicians--and their instruments. Of course, any novel interested in time and place has to include details, but the overall impression of A Suitable Boy is of crowds of them, not noisily clamouring for attention, but filling every available space, as if somehow the book is a tangible object, like Meenakshi's lacquered box, overflowing with sights and sounds and smells (the tanneries!). Did it always seem artistically controlled? No, not always, but I would be hard pressed to single out any expendable piece: once begin trimming and tidying, and where to stop, after all? Life is cluttered: why can't that be an artistic rationale?   

The interaction going on till the bell rings announcing the end of the class.   


3 o' c  


Nothing happened in between except some brief interaction with my fellow Professors about the recent politics,students,correspondent.etc.,

5 o' clock  


On my way back home I searched the face I have seen in my dream.No need to remember the face since never able to forget.Forgetting only makes you remember.What kind of feeling is this , that too one who never married , remained a bachelor till this minute, oh don't doubt my bachelor hood . A bachelor indeed that too one who is entering the later part of the 50s in his age.  


Is this love ....... or sex ? Is love   separate from sex? Then sex does not need love at all.... am I right? Then is love inclusive of sex or love is born out of sex need, although everyone says not so. Can someone in love through out his or her life without sex, if so , then why love comes to one ?    Right now may be mind works centering on love , so may be sex seems to be an ugly word . Then is sex something ugly who is in love, if so , what makes love between the two?  


Does not physical attraction play a role in bringing in love between male and female? If not how love develops? 

Then why should I be disturbed like this when some face which came in dream , whom I do not know.  

Sometime people talk of reincarnation ........does it have anything to do with this kind of affection and love to someone whom we have never seen in person or remotely possible to see or one day she may come before me and I will be convinced that she is that girl who came in my dream.Is there any significance to the dream? Is is a rule one should not have the feeling of sex to one whom he or she loves? Never ending answers.In my case, even if I happen to see her in person, I may not have the courage that is required to ask her consent to have sex.May be no experience.May be wrong , it is not etiquette to ask direct, then how this world of lovers works. Well better not to think in this way .   

10 PM  


I am in my bed reading my books and listening music. Some rustling sound nearby..... what is time now oh, around 110' clock ; is there anyone nearby ....... no . My helping boy would be seeing the TV now in the hall.


I felt someone rubbing my face and holding my finger. Is it real or dream? I don't know.Any way I have to sleep and travel miles and miles to reach the end of this journey designed by God.

Saturday, September 13, 2014


Trouble comes when we perceive any thing
in sound,but purity and aroma of  song set the
symphony like the scattered raindrops glittering with 
words  are  golden arrows that try to open
the locked mind,
but never be able to open ever.

Thoughts  are moving  in the minds
of  persons,who is haunted orcaptured
by them.
silents and moods are like twin sisters
of blue mountains
They always changing them selves instead of
some ego clashes.
and never changing with simple movements.

Black minds  willnever open  and,
never become silent ,can not  achieve innocence.

sreedevinair.-----(wandering mind)---poem

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Spinster Doctor / A story- 2nd part

I sat silently before the Doctor for a few minutes. A male cook brought the tea for both of us in an old style cups, bringing the memory of English people, subsequently the Anglo-indians.Though Auntie, an Angloindian in dress and maintaining etiquette, knows thoroughly the Indian roots and its culture. She lays far too much emphasis on 'life' and ' values', and too little on more and materialistic pursuits.
I in my low voice asked her 'Rose?' and took her hands in my hands, I could feel the rhythmic blood flow in her arteries and slow increase in her body heat. The skin very tender, nerves see extremely strong in her hands, and wondering, how many lives might have come to the earth through this hands of Gynecologist, that too through the hands of benevolence and blessing.
God selects some hands among billions of hands in the world to do some noble jobs, although many who are blessed so never realised the Power behind such nobleness.
I raised my face and looked at her face, which was looking down the earth, could feel the trembling and twitching of muscles in her face trying to stop the outburst of whimper.
She in her masked voice,although trying to conceal her emotions, said ' Devi, fifteen years passed since she left me'
I kept quiet looking at her, giving her time to recuperate and compose herself.
She started talking after a few minutes ' She became a Nun in a convent, looking after the orphans, I gave her love enough more than a mother could give, but she felt more alienated owing to her thinking that she had been left behind by her mother. She loved me more equally she moved away and became concerned about her mother's leaving her behind. And she developed the attitude of a mother to the orphans always ever since she was a child.'
Doctor continued' I wanted to make her a nurse which would have been more suitable for her nature towards the orphans and old alike, but she wanted and became a nun............. so.' she stopped awhile.
I looked down on the floor near her a few drops of tears turning into brown , may be the color of the floor showing the back ground of the floor or the love of tears becoming so ....... I don't know.
No wings of compassion can bring back Rose to the Doctor auntie, although I know Auntie expecting her any moment like a child expecting her mother.
I sat before her for a long time visualizing my friend in the robe of a nun, attending orphanage works and praying . That beautifully complexioned Rose , covered her body completely from her head to foot and showing only the face like a rose at the altar of God.
Here there is a child of 85 yrs old waiting for her mother to return.
Heart knows how to adjust to human emotions, now I could feel in her wrist heart rate is normal.
More than individuals heart knows how to adapt to a situation.When goes beyond , it s l o w s down................

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Spinster Doctor / A story Part 1

When I walked in the road which I might have walked hundreds of times in my native town ,I stood stamped in front of a old building, no it is a bungalow with its portico .Once the same bungalow which my memory had gone back to the scenic beauty of the bungalow with its compound wall cleanly white-washed and the compound gate painted in green , though which always passers by could see the bungalow.
The trees both flowering and ornamental, shrubs,meadow with grass of alien variety and the carpet of colorful flowers of various hues like yellow,white,green, brown and combination of various colors blended by nature, which we could see when we passed by the street.I remember once when my father and I went by that street, I pulled my father's hand to stop and leaving his hand I ran towards the gate of the bungalow. I looked through the gate , gazing at the flowers, trees, fruits,like mango,jack fruit,coconut and other trees.
When an old man came near the gate and asked me ' child, who are you?"
I just blinked my eyes standing silently.
One small hand came from behind the old man with a red rose flower and I collected through the gate.That was the hand of a small girl with fair complexion who came forward and smiled at me.I smiled at her .
The bungalow had a name board Dr.Miss.Susan., Gynecologist, and the name of the hospital she was working.
Now again I am standing before the same bungalow .
No proper compound gate , but what remains as gate is opened and could any one walk through.No one manning the gate when I visited there when young.
I entered into the compound and dismayed to see the condition of the garden, no flowering trees or plants, only trees which stood there without being cared about.
I saw a calling bell switch but a plaster pasted on it showing it was not in use..I tapped the door............ silence continued .........again tapped , seeing no response ,I looked through the window which was opened, though that I could watch someone living there.
Again I called ' Is there anyone in ? Auntieeee ...are you there?'
After five minutes I could hear a rustling sound of someone coming to the door and unlocking from inside. I could see as though someone from the shadow walking out into the light .
My God ,' this is Doctor Aunt.'
She came closer and looked at me , I said ' Doctor aunt , I am Devi'
She moved inside to give way for me to move inside the house.We moved inside the hall with wooden furniture, she sat on one chair and showing me to sit on another chair nearby.
' you remember me?'
She smiled at me .
'How are you Auntee?'
She looked at me patiently for a few minutes and moved to a closet and came back with a photo in black and white ......... that was the group photo of the final year of the school where Rose and me studied .
She had shown me where I stood in the row and near me that Rose , my close friend of school days till school final.
I know Rose was picked up by her in front of her Hospital left by someone , whom she adopted as a child and brought her up.
My memory started running like a horse backwards.
My mouth opened to ask the question where she was now.
But kept quiet, had she been there house would have been different , kept clean and the garden also.
Aunt sitting before me as a frozen painting of yesteryears .
What would have happened to Rose, my friend.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Tom and his fading sight / a story

An old man with white beard and sadness writ large all over the remaiining space of his face, sunken small eyes semi closed , hunched over his table, feverishly searching the papers scattered over his table and all over the room.
Many papers are letters either written by him or written to him, the swirling fan spreading further all the papers all over place as though all the pages torn from his daily life and years of his past life. Every paper has a meaning and mood and scene of his individual days. Sometimes these papers are like mirror reflecting his entire life as a painting in a single canvass. His face seems to suggest so. But still he is searching the papers as if trying to find out some thing more important than all the papers around him.
Still he is searching, sitting in his old wooden chair with handles to rest his hands, another chair next to him vacant.
'Tom ' a voice called.
Tom has not heard the voice or rather seemed not heard the voice.So concentrated he was in his papers.
' Tom ' again the voice called him.
' Tom , what happened to you ? what are you searching for?'
" Oh, nothing , nothing I am fine" Tom said.
' What are you searching ? his friend Susan asked, his only friend over decades.
" oh, sorry I am searching you , last night i lost you , so searching from last night to find you " Tom said.
" But Tom I am here in front of you . " I sat next to him in the vacant chair.
I could make out what did he mean when he said since last night he lost me. He has been suffering from progressive deterioration of his eye sight.
He knew many years before one day finally he might not be able to see.
I stood up held his hands and said ' I am here Tom"
I took his head in my bosom and held his head between my hands.
When i sat down i could see the eyes with out sight but filed with full tears.
In the tears I could see my face reflecting completely.