Kids Are Kids. They Will Never Lose Their Innocence.

Yesterday was the much awaited installation of our Lions District Cabinet and being the Secretary of my club I was privileged to hold the banner of my club and attend the installation. As its said man proposes and God disposes I fell ill with a terrible flue. As my co members were leaving for the programme I was thinking why God at this time you put me in bed and that too when one of my favourite actresses was attending the show

Poor mom because she had to baby sit her YOUNG son she also could not go. Anyways I slept through and got up today a lot back to normal. So still on rest I was relaxing on one of those bean bags which keep you as cosy as you love to be watching one of my favourite shows on tv. Anyone passing by would get to see me lying in the passage. Suddenly I hear this shrill voice " Naveen Uncle how is your fever ?  ”I looked out and there stands Adi my club presidents son who is my neighbour. So I waved at him and said "Monu am doing well" the conversation didn't end there and there comes the cutest sentence I heard in a few weeks. “Uncle ennikkum ennale paripadikku  pokkan patteella athukondu ningal vishamikkanda" which means I too couldn't make it to the function yesterday  so you don't worry.

I was so touched . A young boy of his age taking the trouble to stop at my gate and call out to me to console me for the bad feeling I had about missing the function was actually so soothing to the mind. I really could feel the concern in his voice when he said it.

We say kids are new generation and they are more caring about their electronic devices....... No it is not. It is about the way the kids are brought up. When the kids in our times asked for time to our parents they gave it in abundance and we were always happy with them. today we as parents don’t have time and we give our kids all the gadgets instead of the time they ask for and we complain about the change in their attitudes.

What all my parents said  I did as a child I see my son and nephew doing then why are we cribbing about  the lost New generation when we are the cause for losing them.

A Cold Winter Morning in South Africa.

Here today I will share an experience from my childhood far from Singapore, in South Africa

I have firsthand experience of a traditional African belief -- if a relative of pregnant woman kills the child of a fortunate family, her child receives all the good luck. I learned all about this when my dad was the principal of a school in this beautiful southern tip of Africa. 

Imagine a lovely little country side, full of flowers, deep colours, fruit trees and fresh air, silent except for the ting, ting sounds of cattle bells carried to you by gusts of wind. Lovely white winter’s snows - summer days long enough for a beautiful jog up and down the mountains. This was once my home.

My safe and secure world of toys and friends was bliss for a boy of 3. And a school Principal was like a chief of the village and responsible for many aspects of school administration, such as collecting and depositing revenues. To reduce the chance of theft, all fees collected were banked the very same day. something strange happened on this particular day. The cash my Dad sent a member of his staff to deposit was returned to him at home, apparently due to some fault with the bank account.  My Mom, always careful, divided up the cash and hid it in various places around the house.

Later, my parents hosted a party for the teachers of the school at our home. It was a very cold winter night, and the guests were happy to chat in the sitting area. Suddenly an interruption by a “knock knock” on the kitchen door. Knock! Knock! Knock!  My mother saw 3 boys standing at the door. She asked what they wanted. “Oh Madam A student of the school has met with an accident  and we want to meet Intate.” Intate means a man in good standing. My father went out to meet them, as it was customary for the principal to sign to certify deaths in the village

As Dad was trying to get details, curious little me went out to say hello and socialise. One guy in the group carried me - my parents may have seen this as a very genuine touch. But the next thing my parents saw was a gun at my head. Mom said “Ayyo kallammarane, Mon avarudey Kayyil aanu.” - They are thieves and our son is in their hands. And my dad whispered to my mom “They know today’s banking didn’t happen.” They wanted the money in the house.

 “Don’t waste our time ....  open your locker and we don’t want anyone else in this house to move or else this kid will be dead.” The guests were frozen, and I was perplexed, I felt the toy on my head was a gift for me... and my mom and dad and all the others at home must have known that one wrong move and the bullet in it was for me.

As soon as the 3 reached the locker in the bedroom and saw part of the cash, they lost interest in me and mom quickly locked me up in the bathroom. But these guys not only knew the deposit had not been completed also knew the exact amount that should be in the house. “Give us the money! don’t play games.” My father stood his ground. The guys started walking out holding the gun to my father, forcing him out of the bedroom through the dining area to the kitchen.

My mother ran behind my dad trying to pull him and get him away from them. Two guys went out of the door while one remained inside trying to force my father through the door, when mom literally pounced on my father and gave him one final pull - my father flew into the dining area, while she stood in the kitchen face to face with this 6 feet 2 inch guy. Mom focused all her energy to give the guy a push, and the guy flew out of the door and she banged the door closed. The would-be robbers retreated. The battle was won.

Life is so momentary. The next minute is unknown and we have to still be at our best. The way we react to a situation can make or break lives. If my mother had not pounced on that guy at that time my sister mom and I might have had a totally different life. As Mrs Clinton said “to all the little girls, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and to achieve your own dreams." Please remember that nothing can stop a woman or a man who has courage, conviction and love from facing down opposition and improving their society. 

Life as a Kite .... Flying all alone .....

A lonely kite through life.. flew from place to place. Saw many kites flying higher than me and they looked awesome. It never took too much of my attention… but as I came closer one kite caught my attention…. It was not colorful it was not anything but that kite at the very first moment took my mind off. I got entangled and we flew together miles. The time the space and the love we shared had no barriers, i gave in my self and was so comfortable in the arms of this beautiful flying machine. We together conquered many new worlds. Discovered the beauty of the hidden and the beauty of life.

 Suddenly a gust of wind gushed in and it was like a thud. My new kite mate’s strings loosened out but still we flew and conquered the whole sky which was our place. But now I see that the distance of those strings have gone soo far and my new kite mate is flying high and high above leaving me far behind back were we met. It hurts to think that the kites we meet up soon fly past us and we still keep flying without a destination. Love is the strings which keep us flying high but some strings entangle us so close just to loosen out in a short while. Kites which flew together as close as possible gets pulled out and we can just look up above and say that it all evens out in love and war.

Thank you.... the most paying word...

I went to a wedding two days ago. It was raining and parking my car was a big issue. I somehow managed to get my car into the basement of the wedding hall and was desperately trying to park it when I find this nice man in a security guards attire run upto my vehicle to direct me.

I combed my hair and got of my car and as I was walking up I saw the security guard standing at the entrance. I said “Chetta, Thank You!” which means brother, thank you.  Caught unawares by my impromptu gesture of thanks and sporting a rather weird look on his face, this gentleman, came forward, patted my shoulder and said “It’s a pleasure, mone!” And mone means son in Malayalam. I was so touched. He was so happy.

Why is it that all of us being from the country known for love and benevolence forget that by being a little considerate to the next man who helps us, we make a big difference in their lives. We are happy and they are happy too. Friends why don’t we start saying a thank you with a smile to all those who make a difference in our lives …. no matter however small that maybe

Happy Days!

I was watching a Malayalam movie yesterday and the story ran around college and the fun, love, teachers, friends and the great feeling of being in a vibrant campus. I felt as if I was reliving it all. I was so touched by the feel of love and care and was all that was there in those days.

I was taken down memory lane, where I found myself running around the campus in school, getting wet in the rains to get a holiday, bunking classes and sitting near the phone so that the teachers don’t call and inform Dad, he being the retd. principal of the same college. It used to be fun. When it came to the PG days the quantum of fun went a little high up in standards. It was fun and only fun.

The friendships, the fights, the making ups, the love failures, the love letters, I presume all of us remember the first love letter we wrote and how embarrassed we were and what not. I don’t think today’s kids would have the same kind of fun of writing a love letter because the information age of today has done away with the good old pen and paper. I remember the first one I tried my hand at. I wrote it so well that I myself had a doubt if I was the author, given that my grammar and handwriting were so nearly perfect. The canteen, the round sitting areas, the lawns and all were our loved spots. The summer camps and the work we did -there were just so nice.

When I was watching that movie I was thinking all the generations go through it the same way we did. There were some fights in the movie which I could associate very well with. I was wondering was it required to fight then. Why did we fight for stupid reasons? There were no good reasons for any fights whatsoever. But we still fought. Perhaps we came back to bond better and deeper after those altercations.

All I was thinking was if we did not have all those misunderstandings and fights would we have been closer? No, never, perhaps. I feel we still cherish all those good days as good days because we had a mixture of all these incidents – both good and the not so good ones. Likewise, life is also so beautiful. And my dear friends, I just realized, if I was only happy always I wouldn’t have ever felt this way. I would never have been able to appreciate the value of happiness and good. A good life is like a curry which has a lot of ‘masalas’ mixed and it also has a bit of sugar which acts as the base of the curry and yet we enjoy it with all the hot and sour and sweet mixed in it.

Life gives happiness to all. But what happens is that when we go forward we end up feeling sad and miserable for small things. It is high time we realize that we have been created to enjoy life and to enjoy life we have to go through both good and the not so good parts in life. Only then does the better part of us emerge. I am sure; most of us realize that we should take good and bad in its stride. It will help us be happier and certainly better. 

A Year Remembered

One more page in the book of my life, the page of 2011, is being turned over. It has been a year of mixed feelings. If I say it was a page all written in golden letters I would be fooling myself. The page had a lot of black patches too. The page, as it turns by, takes me through a summary of what I learnt.

The learnings I have had have been tremendous and I believe the creator made this year or at least waited all these years to give me a learning of a life time. As per mythology Arjuna learnt so many things from The Lord in a very crucial part of his life. So I am sure HE has destined me to learn all what I learnt in the 2011 chapter this year only. Many have come in this life of mine and many have left.  The ones who came to stay are with me supporting me through thick and thin and the ones who decided to leave me and go have surely left a deep imprint on my life and gone. As it is said, life moves on and I still feel all this will bring the better out of me.

This post is a thanksgiving to my parents, my sister, my brother in law, aunts, uncles, cousins, colleagues and above all my good dear friends who stood by me through thick and thin telling me and mentoring me in the best and the right direction.  I know the learning of 2011 will be taken with me to the later parts of my life.

The best learning I got this year was that not everything which glitters is gold. Though we learnt it long long ago, we never get it to seep down in us and we tend to believe that calm waters are safe but, calm waters can also be very rough below.  People who have been known for years seem to fade away by character and you really feel that it’s your fault but later on in your solitude you realize that they were always that way and we only saw the better of them, thanks to the good in us.

Another important learning I had this year was not to take anything and everything as it comes. Check it and if it doesn’t match you and if it is unbecoming throw it back at the people who flung it at you. I am a person who does not react much, chip of the old block my Dad. But this year has taught me that where a word has to rule a word rules and where silence speaks volumes silence speaks it all.

My dear friends it’s been a pleasure and a great time we had together this year called 2011. Let’s all join together to welcome 2012. May all our hopes, aspirations and dreams be fulfilled. May the poor and the rich, the unhealthy and the healthy, the down trodden, the animals and all of us have a very beautiful 2012 which brings love, joy and peace to the world and to mankind.

Tribute to Our Culture

A year has passed since I went to the temple festival in my hometown, Kannur in Kerala. The festival happens every year on the last weekend. The temple is called Poothatta Tharavad Kavu. This happens to be my paternal great grandfather’s Tharavad (Ancestral House.) The basic art form performed in the Kavu (Temple) is called as Theyyam or Theyyattam.

Theyyam is a Hindu folk dance ritual of worship exclusive to Northern Malabar region, i.e., Kannur, Kasargod, Kozhikode (formerly Calicut), and Wynad belts. People in the olden times believed that any obstacle that nature brought in front of them was caused by a certain power, which human intelligence could not comprehend. Thus, man started idolizing the various entities in nature like wind, air, water and so on. One person among the group was made to empower himself with these unseen powers and was considered to be a form of God.  The word Theyyam is derived the Sanskrit word Daivam which means God. The origin of this ritual is unknown or rather it is better to say that there is no one theory that explains the birth of Theyyam. 

The ritual dance is exclusively performed by male members of certain caste communities namely Vannan, Malayan, Velan, Mavilan, Pulayan and Koppalan. Most of these communities are indigenous tribes of Kerala and this tradition of folk dance has been kept alive by them. During the Theyyam season (which spans from November till April), these dancers transcend into Gods. They paint themselves with sandalwood paste, turmeric paste, red sandalwood paste and wear very large crowns all with prominence to red.

Each Theyyam has a character of his own and they bless the members who go to meet them. At our Tharavad Kavu we had Theyyams by the name of Karanavar Theyyam, Gulikan Theyyam, Wayanad Kulavan Theyyam, Bhagavathy Theyyam, Vellattom Theyyam, etc. to mention a few. I was asked to meet the Wayanad Kulavan Theyyam and he looked into my eyes and began telling me about things which were in my mind. I was standing in front of him with all due respect and he tells me “you told someone what’s the point of praying because God does not heed to all what we plead to him.” My eyes widened in surprise. A few weeks ago I was telling my flat mate the same thing. I said a big NO to him but he held on to it. I don’t know how he knew it. Men and women who came there, some of them were seen crying and he was consoling them too.

It is indeed a worth watch. Leave alone the religious aspect of it, but the general dress up and the vigor of the dance and the traditions followed are unique in all respects. Forgot to tell you these Theyyams usually drink the local toddy tapped from coconut trees. That is the offering there.  For anyone who really wants to come to see this, January to April of every year is the best time to do this.

Some Information taken from the Wikipedia Link on Google.

Picture of Wayanad Kulavan Theyyam 

Re-living the Past

I was in my home town Kannur in Kerala. I went to a town called Telecherry to visit my Grand Mom’s sister. She is 89. It was the death anniversary of her husband and the whole family had come together. I drove into the approach and as I did, I found myself driving into the nostalgic past. The childhood which we enjoyed, the mangoes we had thrown stones at, the fishes we used to catch, the adventure cycling we used to do and so many things came running back into my mind. 

I remember us going to stay in this aunt’s house. Uncle used to build tree houses for us and we used to play in those tree houses all day. I remember us planning to stay all night in these houses but the minute the sun sets the fear in us jumped out. Food being served to us there and the whole day going on with fun. Standing under that very mango tree, I felt like I was 12 again, playing there in mud, going fishing and having a whole lot of fun. 

I spoke to one of my uncles and he too had the same things to say. He was talking of the past with a lot more deep feelings.  The whole family was talking about the beautiful times they had together. The pranks they played on each other, the fights they had and how they made up. It was awesome!!! My Sunday was a fun day and as always, being home is a pleasure.  I just sometimes wish that those days come back again with all the beauty of its past.

The legacy from the past is what takes us long in life.   We had enjoyed the best in life and I just do hope that we give all what we got from our past to the present generation. We are we only because of what we got from the past.

Beauty of Life -- We Forget to Enjoy.

I was walking along the Besant Nagar Beach, in Chennai last Saturday evening. The waves were washing the shores and the moon was going into an eclipse, which perhaps was the longest known eclipse ever. I was at the beach enjoying the serene calm and cooling off a week’s pressure. 

Walking through the beautiful walkways I found small kids moving on wheelchairs. They were mentally and physically challenged. There was such a lot of pain in their eyes. These kids were finding it so difficult carrying themselves but still they had the best smiles to their friends at the beach. They greeted people they knew, they spoke to them on the walkway and they also took efforts to make friends with the animals on the beach. I was deeply touched. My heart felt so heavy and it was an eye opener.  I thought how thankless I was to crib about pressure which only came because of work, or something trivial like that. 

Friends, a few days ago I read Pareto’s 80-20 principle. How true it is even in life. We are the blessed who have 80% right in life. We can talk, we can see the beauty of life, we can hear the love in the air, but yet we crib about the 20% we do not have. 20% of things we don’t have eclipse the 80% we already have and then we crib. My dear friends, those people at the beach are also human and they enjoy life thanking God for the fact that they are alive. Why is it that we forget to enjoy when we have got the best in life?

The Perils of Age – Perhaps

My flat mate, Rakesh and I were sitting over our breakfast coffee when an elderly colleague joined us. Around 65 may be, the obvious question from her was “ Son, can I order something for you.”  We said we were perfect and she pulled her plate and joined us. The conversation clicked off and then it came to the point of telling us she was going to resign. She said she was joining her daughter in a foreign country.

I was happy for her and I said “Ma’am that would be fun.” She looked at me and then to the plate and said, “Dear, at this age I don’t think it’s fun. I have become a mess. I need to get counseled before I go in with my daughter.” We were shocked. Rakesh exclaimed, “What?”  To which she said “I need to get counseled to stop lighting the lamp I lit all these years, I need to forget that my windows need to be opened. And the worst was this “Son, I feed birds every day in the morning. I am even expected to forget that.” The daughter had given clear instructions to the mother before she even went to her place.

I was thinking how many times our parents have sacrificed for us. The time they have spent for us, telling stories, preparing us for competitions, tucking us into bed. But somewhere don’t you think we are forgetting our parents' sacrifice? They taught us how to walk and now we tell them how to behave. Isn’t it a pain? Just imagine a few years from today we will also wear the same shoes. Imagine us being treated this way.

I can’t imagine.

When did we forget all the goodness taught to us during childhood?

An Autograph from a Teacher

Standing in a teacher’s shoes at a very young age has been an experience worth a life time of learning and good feelings. At age 22 I began my role as a teacher. Too young to know the seriousness of life, I entered my second job, as Faculty member of a B School , before which I was a Sales Officer in a Bank.  I was in the transition phase of my life and I was in the middle of the best of what life offers, college Life. I was out of my college life, experiencing others enjoying their college life. Imagine that you have a big pot of honey which you are not supposed to touch. Gosh!!!

The first day as a teacher I realized how good and diplomatic our teachers were. Standing on the other side of the classroom was an experience the first day. I saw myself sitting in their place. I could see everyone and everything they did. That’s when it struck me how my teachers tolerated us. But my dear friends, to be frank a teachers life is actually a very fulfilling one. Every student’s achievement becomes your achievement and every students fall becomes your pain. With the exams they write the tension is in the teacher’s heart. But yet all the missed heart beats and pains the teacher goes through get washed away in the process being friendly but not familiar or rather to make it simple being strict.

Here I would like to narrate a small incident of my life as a teacher which made me think a lot. Fortunate as a teacher I have always had very controllable batches, which has been also the reason why I have felt very close to many there. In my class I had a student named Kiran who was very shy and wanted to discontinue the post-graduation course halfway through. Not seeing him in class for a few days I called his parents and asked them to come over. The first shock the parent gets is the look of the teacher. He asked with the highest exclamation “are you the one teaching Kiran?” I answered yes, that’s me. I told him how it was important that Kiran needed to come back and how his parents needed to support us in the cause of getting him going well.

The initiative worked and the then Director of the institute, a walking encyclopedia said “Boss, I am not sure of what you are planning for.” Months passed by and one day the Director summoned me to his cabin. I was sure there was a mess and he asked me to sit with the most irritated look on his face. He extended his hand and said “Congratulations.” I was perplexed. He said “Kiran spoke to me with immense confidence, and it’s all your work.” I was lost and in the middle of nowhere. That was one appreciation I got which was an achievement. I take it as an achievement because it came from a knowledgeable man. Today Kiran is doing excellently well and I feel happy for him. When he said he was leaving the course I felt the pain and today I feel proud of my student and friend Kiran, who has since changed from being a chronic introvert into a confident young man.

Truly, nothing could be more rewarding than the life of a teacher to witness a transformation in the lives of his students.

Tribute to a Teacher - My Blog Begins...

Teachers are a gift of a lifetime. They make us what we are today… I would like to begin blogging by a tribute to my teacher. I owe a lot to her for what I am today.

Back to my class 11 year 1996. An average student I must say, coming to a CBSE School from the state syllabus, with all the qualities of being a nut. The CBSE School was a cultural shock. Everyone was fast and   the only thing I was fast was with my chattering.  Being a Commerce guy I needed to be taking accounts sessions which was a hard spot. Even today let me confess, I go berserk with all numbers other than mobile numbers. So here comes in a very strict teacher into the class who was to instruct us accounts. Not joking friends she was a terror. We used to pray for her to be on leave. The minute she enters the class breaths go up and as she exits we all come back to normal. In the course of time my slowness got noticed and I had a privilege to sit on the teacher’s desk during her hours. It was stressful and the punishments were also bad. I used to think that Ma’am had some ill feeling towards me. Ok I thought.

It so happens that I sing, not very well but yes a bit. I got selected in the western music team for the year. School became enjoyable. Music was taking a lot of time. Michael Jackson’s Heal the world was in full swing practice for a month.  We decided the clothes to wear, the material selected and at one point a teacher comes in and changes the entire team structure and three of us saw us out of the team. At age 15 I don’t think I would have gone disheartened so much. My family was very very supportive. It was all through and I was cool.

The competition day came in. my dad and mom stood by me. I went to school on a cold Saturday morning in mid December. I could not function but I remember the words my dad said, "Son, this is just a small battle. Win it and you will grow." School was all usual tough Naveen was so unusual. As the schedule the accounts class came and we had a two hour schedule. Ma’m walked in and I walked to my special seat. She gave us some accounting problems and all of us were at work. I am not exaggerating I just wrote the date and sat on my seat. Ma’am came once saw my book no response. The second time also she came not a word, again a third, nothing happened. At this point one of my classmates who went for the programme came back and said they got the first prize. My eyes watered but I did not burst out. The so called strict, cruel teacher walked up to my desk and held me on my shoulder and patted me. I felt the love, the genuineness and care of a teacher flow in through the same hands she used to hit me. I changed. I changed from the slow, poor student category to one of the good students in class. From then I had had no looking back.

The word teacher if mis-spelt becomes a cheater. Even after 15 years of leaving school I still meet my mother at school my dear Teacher Ms Rajini Anoop. She is a true asset I earned over my years of being a student.