Ohh. Soul

Does it bear the fragrance of my being?
Of my sins and my life's longing?
Does it count the days of rejoice?
Of lament, repentance and of mere choice?

Does It bear the badge of a Victor?
Or the blemish of a transgressor?
Of richness or of  penury of this world?
Or  carry rewards earned in HIS favour?

Does it fly away or shall go down?
To merge  like a drop in the mighty ocean?
Does it part to meet my master?
Before enslaving into another of HIS notion?

Does it have an eye to see, who came to set my fire?
Why then, do I torment my soul?
When I couldn't even thank the one ,
Who closes my veil?

In search of the " dream"

I was driving the car towards home.
"This hospital building has come out nice!" she exclaimed.
" Yeah! Their Operation theater is busy always. All the while there was this politician who used to swindle them. So they kept low profile. Now that he is behind bars, they renovated the whole building and made it look modern" I replied.
"I too sit in our OP everyday since 2 years and get sick of being idle all day long" she complained
" Don't worry, it is just two years since we started and probably someday we would move into something better" I reassured.
" You told you want to quit practice and go off to Tirumalai after sometime?" she prodded.
" If our destiny is that, we would definitely go, didn't we leave our practice in Bangarpet and come here? Maybe Adhi would take care of our practice later."
She laughed and told " He has other plans. Ask him what he wants to become.?!"
I looked through the mirror. Adhi had slept in the back seat.
Later that evening, I took him in an embrace and asked " Kutti , what do you want to become when you grow 'big'?"
He had a spark in his eyes and told, ' Dad, I want to become an artist'
I knew his penchant for scribbling always, demanding to buy new coloring books and colour pencils. This was a habit which his uncle had triggered.
I told " Why not?, you can become an artist, in fact, you are able to draw beautifully"
He got excited, " Really dad? , I don't want to study, I just want to draw and paint". He told
Now, this became irksome. Though my words were seemingly agreeable to his plans, I thought, he is too  young and another day he may dream different.
With mild disapprovement I told him " You can become an artist kutti ,when you are big, but you have to go to school when you are young".
" OK dad, I will draw a joker for you as a gift" and he wrestled out of me.
After that I started thinking of what I wanted to become when I grew big , definitely not a doctor..;)

A good morning msg to his uncle.

PS . Now he goes for drawing classes two days in a week.
( He has gone to my parent's place for his vacation. I just kept seeing his drawings on Sunday afternoon.)

A joker gift to Dad.

A chasing after the wind...

"Shut up" , I told in a fit of anger. 
I don't remember what came out of my mouth. The others silently watching me seething with anger, for I was known to be quiet and easygoing.
The discomfiture was  brewing in the department for quiet sometime. All subtle ways to lessen the altercations were futile.
There were rules passed, each one were asked to sit in separate out patient rooms, people were allotted to work as different units and I took charge of taming the juniors as well as allowing due respect to senior professors.I myself had to dissociate from mingling casually like before.
But this became a recurring problem, because I was way too young to pass strictures on people who were the age of my medical teachers. I now felt the problem of running a department with two senior women and two junior ladies who had nevertheless started despising each other.
My chamber was already occupied by the seniors and I had to make way for a fresh seat and room. The newly joined professor was promised the chair but I was asked to sign the papers for medical council at the last moment. That might have been a reasons for throwing fresh challenges everyday.
The day I was dragged to a fight because of a trivial matter, I lost my cool and had to confront vehemently.
Later on I felt sad for being rude to seniors and being judgmental towards juniors as well.

The next day I called for a departmental meeting and had to sort out the grievances. Finally, it was inevitable that I had to distance myself from both the parties. But late that evening I had to listen to various versions of the issue from my wife at home thanks to my juniors.

All these happened a month ago. No one threatens to quit their job now, and we make it a habit to sit in a common room for our morning coffee..
Yesterday while I was just leafing the pages of bible which was inside one of the drawers while having coffee, I heard my prof say ' Saravana , have you read the book before?'. I answered in affirmative. Then she told ' Read the chapter on ecclesiastes, I have gained a lot from that'
I read all the 12 chapters and called to tell her that I need more time to read those six pages.
She smiled and told " There is nothing Christian in those chapters, just to make sure that you are not offended by my suggestion,  I knew you would like those chapters "
I felt so small.


Ecl 8
15 So I commend the enjoyment of life, because there is nothing better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad...

The race is not to the swift
    or the battle to the strong,
nor does food come to the wise
    or wealth to the brilliant
    or favor to the learned;
but time and chance happen to them all..

Conversing with my Son

We were driving towards Windsor castle. Morning we both had got ready for swimming and then suddenly I had to attend an emergency call. So I promised him to take  for swimming in the evening. 
We both like to swim in the rains much to the disapproval of my better half. The climate was perfect with dark clouds gathering..
While nearing the hotel, puppy had started this. " Daddy, kgf thatha ( my father), appatha ( my mother), tiruchengode thatha ( her father) , avva (her mother), all these people will live with us till what class I go?"
"We can't know puppy, only god will know"
" Why only God knows when they all die , dad?"
" Because if we know that they will die when you are in a particular standard, you will feel sad throughout and even others too will worry thinking of the day they are going to die. God wants us to enjoy life and not to think of the end. That's why he keeps it  discreet."
"Ohh, won't God feel bad when we die?"
I smile and tell " God doesn't feel bad, he feels happy because we return back to him "
" Dad, won't he feel bad if we go back to different Gods?"
"There is only one God puppy"
" Ohh, all go to Vishnu only, isn't it dad?"
" We call him by the name of Vishnu, kutti. Each one has different names for the same God"
I parked the bike and continued the conversation till we reached the billing counter.

கடவுள் துகள் ( God Particle)

Sudhakar and Tanu @ Skyroca, Yercaud

அகம் மலர்த்தும் கடவுள் துகள்
- மகள்

Daughter -
Is the God particle which makes a dad's heart bloom.



அன்னையின் பிரசவ வலி
மகளை பிரிகையில் - தந்தைக்கு

A father -
Bears the pain of birth
when he gives his daughter's hand
away..






உன் சிறு நடை போலவே
வருடங்களும் மெல்ல
உருண்டோடட்டும்
உடன் நடக்கும் காலம் வரை உயிர்ப்புடன் இருக்கிறேன்

Let the coming years pass
in tiny strides like this
for the stay with you, dear
makes life lively with bliss..

பனி மூடும் பாதைகளிலும்
கதகதப்பின் இதம்
அப்பாவின் கை பிடித்து நடக்கும்போது..

A misty path too
is covered with warmth
when I walk alongside my dad

வயது கூடினாலும்
பெருமை கொள்வது
மகளை பெற்ற தந்தை தானோ?

The Pride of aging
reflects only
in the father  of  a girl?

"என் அப்பாவைப்போல் வருமா"
என்று ஒருமுறையேனும் தன் கனவனிடம்
சொல்லாத மகள் இல்லை

"My dad is great"
comparisons does arise
at least once for all girls
who adore their dad..

Conversing with myself is very difficult..  this photograph in face book inspired me to write those lines instantly..otherwise, writing itself , I think has evaded me. That was the reason I didnt  go for translation..
thank you deeps for making me write the translation..shouldn't go back to my cocoon..
 

'Child Nectar'-Chinnanchiru kiliye kannamma..

I picked up puppy from bus stop, I had time till Meena returned from hospital and just sat in the balcony with a book. The sun’s rays were directed towards the wall and I could feel the warmth over my ears. I came inside and sat in the sofa. Television is least used by me at home. I called out puppy and he told that he will come in a minute. Without changing his school dress, he was playing with the neighbour’s girl baby. All playthings were strewn over the corridor.

I just continued reading through the book. Somehow it was depressing to read, though written by my famous author. I was not in a mood to read something serious. Felt lazy to do anything.  Just then she peeped through the door, head shaven, with a big smile, cooing and tried to lift herself up clutching the edge of the door.

the book.

Meena was entering the house at the same time and told “eh, mamavai thedi vanthuttiyadi?”(Came in search of uncle?) . She lifted her up and placed in my lap ridiculing me “can’t u see that she wants u to put that book off”. I lifted her and came inside calling puppy to come inside and change his dress. She pulled my glass, and then my pen and immediately bought them to her mouth.I placed her on the dining table and wrestled the pen from her. Our maid had made gulab jamoon and had allowed the fried soft balls to soak in sugar syrup. I took a jamoon in a cup and spoon , mashed it and started feeding her. The drool, the smile, her relish, all made me more enthusiastic in giving her small tidbits.Meanwhile I too had one jamoon suppressing the guilt of indulgence.

what is she having in her mouth?

I placed her down the floor while Meena came to the room. “Hey, what have you both done to my dining table?!” exclaimed Meena and started wiping up the sugar syrup. When I pointed fingers at her, she was already putting my mobile into her mouth.  I quickly snatched it from her, I punched in certain keys, made a call, scrolled the screen and thank god, it did work and the taste was good too.

பிள்ளை கனியமுதே கண்ண்ம்மா,
பேசும் பொற்சித்திரமே
அள்ளி அணைத்திடவே என்முன்னே
ஆடி வரும் தேனே
- பாரதியார்.

‘Child nectar’, my dear

 You are a talking portrait

With your tottering walk and pranks.

Honey, you tempt me into lifting  and hugging you

-Bharathiyar. 

the next day evening - she smelled of Johnson's baby soap

                                  Chinnanchiru kiliye kannamma - Priya sisters.

A translation which disturbed me..

I sit here past my sleeping time..I was requested to search for few songs and lullabies.. and an added request ( i thought ) was to translate the poem of Vaishnva janato. ( but it was meant for me to google search and learn the meaning)
 After finishing, I felt that it is not for me..
the Email excerpt i would cut paste..


All said and done..
i misunderstood the last line..
i thought you wanted me to translate the poem.
but as i translated.. i thought.. it is something which should be ideal. flawless..
and it doesn't apply to me..
I read your mail..again and there you had asked me to google search the meaning for vaishnava janato ..
i am not perfect ..i am not flawless..I am a Man.. I take into kannan, who treats me well with all my blemishes.. and i do not want to be that idealistic..
anyways I hate ppl preaching me.. even if it is you
that is why i seek saranagathi
accept, me, my dear kanna.. with all my wrong doings.. I am a mere mortal.. hari tum haro.. would be the best.. meera bhajans, azhwar pasurams, all are sayings of prapatti or ultimate surrender.. keeping in mind our inadequacies..
naan appadiththaan kanna..
virumbuvathum veruppathum unakku vittathu..

any ways i have translated the poem.. and sending it to you.. read it in the morning.

Vaishnava janato.

The followers of Vishnu,the vaishnava  tribe
Are those who serve him without pride
Compassionate, knows a fellow’s pain
Virtues extolled, never does complain
Pure are his acts, thoughts and words
Blessed be his mother, in all the worlds
Doesn’t covet, speak ill nor does lie
Steady is his mind, in praise or in fie
Detached, righteous, without deceit
Avarice, lust and anger do forfeit
The name, Rama, stirs his thought
All places holy, swirls his heart
The poet Narsin would seek such man
Whose virtues redeems his whole clan

saravana