for amma :)

You always said that you wished we were three
today's our turn to say -
we wish we were three
and in some ways always try to be
just to stay by your side
and relive the days when the world was just you and me

A small prayer..

I am a lot of things. I am the dreams I dream, the thoughts I think and the things I do.I am the emotions I feel, the relations I form and the decisions I take. I am my actions, I am my plans. I am the fun that I had and the sorrows I shared. I am - a lot of things.

So what happens when I die?

I do not know.

But I do know this -

You will always be. You will be all those dreams, those thoughts you had and the things you did. You will be all the emotions you felt, the relations you kept and the decisions you took. You will be those actions and those plans. You will be all that fun that you had had and all the sorrows that you had shared. You still are a lot of things and that you will always be.

Life is not always predictable. So is death. It might take away what you would have become but can never take away what you were.

May you rest in peace.

to conversations beyond words..

Sweet is the bond which is formed
along journeys across languages, across characters..

Those moments when there are words beyond words
and stories in the crinkle of the eyes..

The feeling of kin which grows
and the minute expressions which come to stay

One such, a conversation about dreams,
and a call from reality,
and then was that smile which spoke far beyond all.

a story to be told..

I read this story a while ago and felt the need to share it on my blog. Its a story well told, a story worth telling..


It’s a story of a Brahmin gal who loved a non-Brahmin and due to father’s compulsion married a Brahmin guy and leading a perfect life with little happiness!!


Dearest Appa,

27th Jan’1965

Hope this letter finds you, Amma, Raji and Seenu in good health. The weather here in New York City is icy cold. But Avar sollraar- I have missed this winter’s biting cold. I still wish I had seen the snow… But then, I still wish I had not left Trichy at all. I do miss Trichy, Appa. You, Amma, Raji, Seenu, pakkatthaathu Rama, Vikatan,Ucchi Pillaiyaar Koil, filter coffee, Holy Cross College, the Maths Department and of course Sakthi. I know you wish I hadn’t brought his name in this letter.But not to worry Appa, I understand that you got me married to Visu because you thought it was best for your daughter.

I still remember Amma wiping her silent tears with her madisaar thalappu and you shouting at me the day I told you about Sakthi.Later, when the initial shock wore off you patiently listed umpteen reasons why I should not marry Sakthi. I agree Appa, that 20 is too young to decide, that Raji and Seenu would have been affected greatly by my ‘mistake’, the Agrahaaram would have scoffed at you… a meat eater was not a good match for someone who had never even tasted onion and garlic. The reasons were innumerous. I knew you’d still have objected and offered other reasons even if he had become a Dhigambara monk.

Visu on the other hand, wore a poonal, he is the son of Neelakanta Sastri, an Engineer and he researched about computers which is what made you jump for this alliance. Am not complaining Appa, Visu is a nice man. Tell Amma that I could not try her kozhakkattai recipe this Pongal because coconuts were too expensive and Avar nenacchar that it was ridiculous.

Anyway, we went out on Sankaranthi day and dined out. He thought it would be a good idea to invite the Chatterjees also. But I didn’t speak Bengali and Mrs.Chatterjee spoke English in an accent that comes with living years in America. Hence I made myself busy with the menu card. They ordered various species of fish,shrimp and a lot more of items I had never seen in my life. I ordered orange juice and a sandwich. The other diners thought it was queer coming to a seafood restaurant and settling for a sandwich. That day, I learnt that Avar prefer pannradhu beef, pork, bacon and seafood.

Do you know, Appa… Sakthi gave up meat because of me? I didn’t ask, he just did. But then, Sakthi is not Neelakanta Sastri’s son and that made it imposible for Subramania Iyer’s daughter Kalyani to marry him.I will keep you posted on what happens here. I don’t think I can make it to Seenu’s Upanayanam. Tell Amma not to get me a pattu podavai for the poonal, I don’t use them here. I wore it once and felt like a clown here.

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

Dearest Appa,

20th Oct’1968

We are fine here. Gautam is speaking his first words and I swear they sounded like ‘Dosai’. But Visu claims it’s just gibberish. From your previous letter, I gather that pakkathatthu Rama is married and settled in Jamshedpur. Nice to know that. Please find out her address from Saarada maami and write it to me. I want to keep in touch with her. I hope Raji is happy with her husband in Madras. I spoke to her last month, great to know that she has a phone. Do tell Seenu to study well and prepare for his school final exams.

Raji also told me that Sakthi is married now. I wish him good luck, but I could not convey the message to him. Raji refused to be the messenger and I know you have severed ties with Sakthi’s father, your long term friend Sankaravel, thanks to me. I hear his wife is his cousin… He must have succumbed to his mother’s wishes.

How did Avani Avittam go? Visu’s mother gave me a bunch of new poonals for Avani Avittam but Visu was in Boston that day. He wouldn’t have used it anyway, I haven’t seen him wear one in the last three years. Gautam is now playing with the spool of thread- mere thread it is, what else can I call it? Gautam will not even know what it signifies, I guess.

Visu is making sure Gautam grows up listening to English only. He says it will make his life easier. But I do read out passages from Ponniyin Selvan and Bharathiyaar’s poetry when I am alone with him. It’s more of reading to myself, I guess. I actually got that poetry book as a present from Sakthi, it still has his scrawling signature in the first page.

By the way, Visu saw that book and asked me about Sakthi, I told him. Hold your breath Appa, he didn’t throw me out of the house. He is a good man, no question. He said it is okay and that he doesn’t mind. And then he told me of his American girlfriend whom he was once in love with, when he first reached America- Amy, a fellow Researcher who was in a brief relationship with Visu when she was in New York. They lived together for 3 months and decided against marriage, somehow. Amy once dropped home when she was in New York. Nice lady, she was.

Ask Amma to send me Sambar Podi for this whole year. My friend Sudha is coming to Madras next week. Ask Seenu to catch the Rockfort Express and give it to her. I will collect it from her here.

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

Dearest Appa,

3rd June’1974

We have arrived here safely. After two months in India, I find it hard to adjust back to normal life here. Gautam and Ranjana demand vadai,paayasam and vaazhai ilai here. Visu’s relieved to be back in America. I left a set of my books there. If it’s not in Trichy it must be in Visu’s parents’ place. If you find them, safeguard them until my next trip. They mean a lot to me since they were gifts from Sakthi. By the way, Appa, I found out Sakthi’s present address in Madras from Rama and Saarada maami. I wrote to him. I am extremely proud to know that Dr.Sakthivel is a cardiologist much in demand there in Madras. He was thrilled to hear from me after so long. You know what he has named his daughters? Kalyani and Raagamaalika. He called me. You know what, he’s still a practising vegetarian, Appa. He didn’t revert back just because he lost me… He asked me if I still sang and whether Gautam and Ranjana could sing. I could see a proud father in him, when he claimed his daughters could sing upto Rara Venu Gopala. That’s when I remembered that I was once a good singer. I wonder why I stopped singing, wonder why I never exposed the kids to Music and Dance. But then, I realize that I had buried all that deep inside me when I left Trichy; after bidding farewell to my best Rasika, actually. Sakthi. After the call, I tried singing ’Kurai Onrum Illai’. I could not rquite reach Charanam, because of the lack of practice and more importantly because of the tears that filmed my eyes and the constriction in my throat. I sang to Visu and the kids one of these days. Though Gautam was impressed, father and daughter could not just wait for me to finish! By the way, next time some friend comes to India, send me a Sruthi Box. I would like to start singing again.

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

Dearest Appa,

14th Aug 1978

Just back after our tour to California. Find our photos, picture postcards attached herewith. After you are done with showing all family members,relatives, friends and neighbours, pass them to Visu’s parents. It was a welcome break for the four of us. But I missed my paattu class students all along and was happy to resume the classes again last evening. Did I mention in my previous letter, before we left on the tour - I finally got my driving license here. I sent a few photos to Sakthi too. He has sent me quite a few records and cassettes. I loved it! I’m reminded of AIR, almost! I’m circulating them among my friends too. And of course, playing them for my students too. They are picking up beautifully. Funny news is, I, a Tamilian, is teaching Telugu and Sanskrit kritis to a cross section of Tamil, Malayalam, Kannada,Telugu, Marathi, Bengali students in an English speaking nation. The music sessions have resulted in a reborn Kalyani, Appa. Thanks to Sakthi, really. I would have never taken it up had it not been for his reminder. I am now thinking of what life would have been like if I had indeed married him. I would have of course lost you and Amma. But right now, with this life in America, Visu and these monthly letters to you, Rama, Raji and Seenu what have i gained? I don’t find an answer, Appa. Neither do I think I ever will. Again, as I have always reiterated, Visu is a good man, no complaints there. He is every bit the son in law you wanted. Researcher, American Post-Graduate Degree holder, a dutiful husband and father,earning a comfortable income. I know it is too much to ask for anything else. That is a fantasy I left midway in my life… Once upon a time in Trichy with someone else.

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

Dearest Appa,

14th Apr’1984

Met Dr.Sakthivel after 19 years… He had come to New York for business purposes and paid me a visit. Visu and the kids welcomed him home with great pleasure. And they liked him too. Infact, they did most of the talking initially. And of course, he got me a whole load of books, cassettes, Mysore Paak and lots more.

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

Dearest Appa,

20th Jan’ 1990

I just went through all these letters lying in my closet draw for years together. These are letters I started writing to you and then decided not to post. For obvious reasons. I could not mention Sakthi to you even though I was itching to. Not because I was afraid to invite your wrath. I just did not have the heart to hurt you, I know these letters would have hurt you. Because deep inside, I know you were disturbed- you knew Sakthi was a good man, you knew he was a man of substance, yet you didn’t want to go further. Society, I know. ..Family… I know… And all these letters would have only wounded you more.Today, 2 years after your death, and 6 months after Dr.Sakthivel’s untimely death in a road accident, I somehow felt like re-reading all these letters. To me, all these unstamped, unposted letters mean a life that could have been.

Kalyani Viswanathan.

Happy bday KG :)

What is life? I always ask..
Is it the things I do or it is the things I learnt..
Is it the people I meet or the time I spent..

Combination of all would be my call
And this post is for a friend who became a part of it all

To my chai partner..

For all the fun that we all have shared
And all the chats that I am sure you still have
For all the fights that we have had
And the vada pav’s and pani puri’s we ate without care

The moments spent was among the best I have had
Thanking you for that, i feel, is a little sad!

One thing that i can say is that..
It isn’t over!! - and this with complete certainty I will add :)

Hope you have a great year!!
HAPPY BDAY :)

The boy on the street

He sat there on the pavement, an idle guy with a towel over his lap. There were some odd rupee notes strewn about on the towel, his hands lying loosely over them to prevent them from flying. He seemed to be about 10 years of age, had a dark complexion, was thin and had burn marks on his chest.

Those were the blatant features - something for everyone to see. But there was something else which was so much more obvious that it has been in my mind for the past few days and refuses to be wiped out. The kid’s face, the manner in which he sat, his expression of total indifference to everything and everyone around him!!

There were people passing by him in either direction. A few stopped to give him some money. But that expression on his face remained the same. There was light wind on that Sunday which caused a few notes to fly. He remained seated. A man brought back the Rupee 10 note which had flown with the wind. He did not even bother looking up. Yet he was sitting on the pavement, a towel spread over his lap.

I am not able to figure out that expression, or rather the lack of it. I have seen kids beg before, their manner of begging coming right out of the textbook. Their “akka, akka, akka…”, the ‘please help me’ look, the light tugging at your shirt. All this probably fed to them when they started. I assume they were told to do and they do. So blissfully ignorant at that age that begging might have been just another game.

So why the difference in this kid? Was he moody? Was he lost in other thoughts? Or was he just not that interested in the game??

What if he was forced to do it against his will and to him it was not even a game! Then don’t we ‘sympathizers’ become a part of what forces him to continue??

There might be factors which I do not know about which may be the reasons behind this kid begging. But I do know that the motivation for those factors to act is given by us! In a span of about 45 minutes, he had collected about a hundred rupees. Why then wouldn’t someone tell him to sit on the pavement rather than send him to school?

Small acts of ours can make a difference and I mean this in both the positive way and the negative. Let us not become the reason for these kids to beg.

zapppp.......

HYPNOTISM!!!

Wake up people, cos you have been hypnotized!! (Nothing to worry about here – it’s been done for the good)

This hypnosis is somewhat along the lines of what Hal was put through (although to a FAR lesser extent) in the movie Shallow Hal.

For those of you who haven’t seen the film, Young Hal is advised by his dying father and following the advice religiously, dates women blindly(just figuratively), based ONLY on their physical beauty. One day he runs into this self help guru who hypnotizes him into seeing only the inner beauty of a woman and the then hypnotized Hal falls deeply in love with overly obese but lovely Rosemary. The hypnotized Hal sees the people for who they are truly are – for their character. To him the world appears different from what is perceived and it is in this world that he finds his true happiness.

The story is quite simple, it might have been portrayed in a little exaggerated manner to make its message apparent but this inherent message was beautiful.

Now having stated the story and mentioning the words ‘Hypnotize’, I think it is time I tell how we fit into this whole picture.

Have you ever wondered why children seem so beautiful? Why don’t all these children, so adorable when they were kids, remain as beautiful as they grow older? Have you wondered why sometimes the hottest guy in office appears to have sprouted 2 horns behind his head, and the person who you initially thought was just okay now seems like the most beautiful person you know. Have you ever wondered why your dad seems like the most handsome person you know and why the appearances of friends changes as you get to know them more.

Someone’s out there looking at the way you look at everything and the moment your vision goes awry – Zappppp! :)

Enjoy the zapped realm :)

(For the unzapped rest – you will also see it someday but don’t wait for someone to make that happen)

Then and Now...

There was once a time when my face said it all,

Be it happiness or grief, be it jealousy or relief

There was once a time when what I said was what I wanted to say,

Be it to a close friend, be it to a complete stranger.

There was once a time when everyone seemed pure,

Be it the class topper who befriended you just for doubts or be it that friend who never meant what she said.

There was once a time I believed people for what they appeared,

Be it anyone, just anyone.

That was the time when my mom said I will not survive in the world.

That was the time when friends told me to grow up.

That was the time when I seemed innocent to a few and a fool to the rest .

Now I think I have grown up.

Now I might just survive in this world.

Now probably I don’t seem as big as a fool as I seemed before.

But now I wonder why people needed a mask in the first place

Now I wonder why we tend to not let the simple things be.

Now I see the phrase “Life’s just a play and we are mere actors” in a whole different light.

The thoughts revolving around an elephants pee!

Chain of thoughts is a fascinating phenomenon. The human mind thinks and correlates incidents, facts, observations etc in the most amazing and unpredictable manner. There is no way to calculate what thought one’s sight/speech might trigger. It is even more interesting to figure how these thoughts originated and traveled. For instance, while standing in the mess queue one afternoon, a friend of mine commented on the sheer volume of an elephant’s urine (approx 5 liters/urination!!). She went on to talk about this documentary she had seen on some channel which made me perceive the bladder of an elephant as a humongous reservoir with a broken valve!

While I was shocked at the topic of the conversation I was involved in, right before my meal, what I was more curious to know was why she had suddenly pondered over this particular topic. I could see no relation between what we were talking about earlier and an elephants pee, and I could not resist finding out how!

This is how it ll started - The basins at our hostel are such that we tend to make our shirts wet while washing faces or performing any other activity which requires us to slightly bend towards the basin. To avoid a watery patch on our stomachs we have to consciously perform all our basin activities in a posture which involves tucking one’s stomach in and balancing the body in a not-very-comfortable 60-70 degree position from the hips onwards. I, in an attempt to avoid unnecessary complications in life, prefer the watery patch to early morning gymnastics. My friend, on the other hand, ends up getting her shirt wet invariably :P

This particular afternoon was no different for her. We were happily chatting away while waiting for food and for some unknown reason (probably the wind), she noticed the dampness (that’s an understatement!) of her shirt. This led her to wonder how people would have reacted if the patch had been on the other end. And observing the size of the patch she contemplated that it had to be some large creature (elephant) to have left such an impression ;) And then she remembered the documentary :D

Now what prompted me to write on this topic?? I was reading Shana’s post a few days back and the first thing which came into my mind was Hypnotism. What looks like a leap, is in reality just a continuation.

Why hypnotism? This, I will write about later :)

Some day…

The sky was clear, no clouds, no stars, just a bright moon and its tranquil reflection in the rivers calm waters. A mother was feeding her 1 year old, her face perturbed. She came here every night. There was something sacred about this form of nature. It calmed her, told her stories, made her think, and made her dream. It took her away from the everyday life. It took her away to a world inhabited only by her son and herself.

But it couldn’t remove her worries today.

Her son is too small to understand the thoughts reflecting in his mothers eyes but notices the difference. He looks at her with a confused expression, and the innocents concern makes her want to pour her heart out to him...

She tells him

“One day….

One day I will not begin my day with someone else’s death
One day I will live without the fear of losing a human to the insanity of another.
One day everyone’s life will have a value

One day people will think for a change
One day the young will not be used to spread terror
One day kids will grow without seeing terrorism

One day our people will wake up to all this
And that day our country will glow in all its beauty

Some day…”

What do you all say?

This incident happened today morning in our city Bangalore. A bus, a lady traveler, a misbehaving conductor and my friend who witnessed this. What should he have done in such a situation?

This is a small incident which we hear about every now and then. I myself have not witnessed such an incident in Bangalore and greatly respect the BMTC staff for doing just their duty and nothing more but there are bound to be some people who take liberty in the fact that a small indulgence on their part could be masqueraded as a slip of hand in a crowded bus. This isn’t new information. I am sure every person, male or female, who travels by bus, knows this.

What would I do if someone misbehaved with me using the crowd as a shield? Well, probably just give a dirty stare and stand in a place where people can not take advantage of the crowd. Is that it? I am ashamed to say it, but yes. Will that dirty stare do any good? Will it make any difference to the person doing it? He would probably give a smug smile and target someone else!

What do people do when in such situation? Most take the easy way, my way. And so did the lady who we were talking about. My friend, a mere witness to the whole scene thought that wasn’t enough. He raised his voice against the conductor condemning him for his act. I do not know what happened after that. All I know is he saw a wrong and raised his voice against it.

This was a small incident which in itself represents all the wrong happening in our country. I represent that section of the population who knows about this, sees it and does nothing but mind their own business. My friend on the other hand represents the hope against all of this, a voice which makes sure it is heard, someone I will look up to for what he did, and someone I would want to be.

He on the other hand is thinking whether what he did was right or wrong, if should he have lost his temper like the way he did. What do you people say?

(A correction - the bus was a private bus and the lady was waiting at the bus stop and not travelling when it happened. Sorry for getting the facts wrong but the question still stands!)

I’m lovin’ it :)

French fries which are deliciously crispy and salty on the outside, warm and soft on the inside. Burgers which have brown golden crisp chicken patties sandwiched between two warm buns sprinkled with sesame seeds on top, mayo which oozes out when u take a bite and lots of lettuce mixed up between all this. A large pepsi to complement all this solid food, lots of tomato ketchup on the side, the arousing aroma and a nice conversation.

That is my usual at McDonalds. Something I look forward to every now and then, ever since my dad got me my first burger back in 7^th. Reminds me of a lot of things. Reminds me of my sister, quietly nudging me with her elbow on spotting the McDonalds sign. How I would try and tell her that we just had one last week and should probably wait for a while to eat junk again. How she would then seem to agree but later tell dad (just as we are about to pass by it) about how much her sister craved for McDonalds. Reminds me of the car which used to be filled with McDonalds heavenly aroma shortly after, the ride back home with paper bags containing 2 spicy chicken burgers and 1 large fries and the contended look on both our faces.

Even back at home we always had a routine. The paper bag would be temporarily, but always put on the dining table while my sister and I fished out two big glasses to put the pepsi in and sometimes 2 cubes of ice if the weather demanded. Mom and dad meanwhile would get their dinner ready. How we would all then stretch out our legs on the sofa with burgers on our laps and glasses safely on the side table on top of a coaster. We even had our own particular ways of eating it. I had to make sure to get rid of the excess mayo and all the lettuce protruding out by carefully removing it and eating it first and only when I had made sure that nothing is going to drop down from the sides do I proceed with my first bite.

There was always some music in the background, lots of laughter in the foreground and a yummy meal in between. Always.

These are usually the things which I get when I buy a meal at McDonalds. Not anymore. Last week at Forum’s McDonalds, I found one more to add to that list.

Me and my friend were traveling back home when we suddenly decided to take a detour to McDonalds. The idea seemed excellent, both of us were starved and I could smell the burgers already. But the moment we entered Forum, the idea started to fluctuate between good and terrible. Good cos of all the things associated with McDonalds and TERRIBLE cos of the long queue. Gosh! There were easily 30 people standing in front of me!

Somehow in between me making a long face and complaining about the time it would take to finally have the burger in my hand, I heard a lady’s voice asking me what I would like to order. But I was still at the end of the queue! Order already? Anyway, I gave my usual order and Shana gave hers and we were promptly handed a slip of paper indicating our orders. There were 3 counters, 3 people tending to those counters, 2-3 more to assemble the orders on the trays, a waiter directing us towards the next counter which would be vacant, another who took our order and numerous people inside working in a sort of frenzy. Within minutes I was at the bill counter where the employee just took that sheet of paper containing our order, confirmed it and billed it with ease. No confusion, no waste of time, no complaints. I was asked to wait for some time while Shana was asked to wait outside the queue to reduce the congestion in the line. A minute later I had the order and Shana had found a seat. I was impressed! Fast food was actually FAST food. 15-20 minutes later we were out, contended, satisfied and full.

Few things I forgot to mention. I did not have to get up and go for more ketchup or tissue or straw to the crowded, busy part of the restaurant. I simply had to call one of the people who work there for it and out it came from the pockets of his apron. I had never noticed that before and so that was, to me, another demonstration of efficiency.

Also, in spite of all the rush and the busy atmosphere of the place, while I was waiting in the queue, a waiter actually took time out to say “Hey baby! How are you?”

I’m lovin’ it :)

p.s - The quoted sentence was directed at a 3 yr old girl standing in front of me.

Words are all I have to take your heart away..

It's only words
And words are all I have
To take your heart away

The above three lines by Boyzone define me. You could ask if words are all that is there to me. You could ask if words are the only assets I have. Yes I am only words and words are all I have and I am very proud to say that.

Allow me to explain. One could say that words are a just a form of expression (for your safety don’t even dare say ‘words are just a form’ in front of me! ). You could argue that it is these expressions, actions which should be given more importance but my ego tells that it should be the exact opposite! To me expressions are a representation of words, speech is representation of words, the thoughts in peoples mind are a combination of words and their actions are representation of these very thoughts. For eg. a smile or a frown always has a reason behind it. These reasons almost always boil down to thoughts and if thoughts are a combination of words then aren’t words the base for everything, the foundation for our lives? To me words are all powerful and anyone who wants to disagree better stay away! Ego rules here!

Exactly how powerful are these words? As far as I can remember I have made people laugh by using just words, I have made people cry by using just words, confession of love is done using words, expression of sorrow is done using words, words of confidence have led people to achieve heights, words of wisdom have guided people for centuries, words which may seem like wisdom have even misguided people into committing grave mistakes! Our world revolves around words!

I know people who carry on with their lives depending on a few words to give them strength. I know people who have changed lives of others using their words. I feel complete when I have been able to convey something using my words. The pleasure in making someone laugh or transporting someone to a different world is something which even I cannot describe right now! If my words have made a difference to someone’s life, if my words have helped anyone at any point of time in any way then it makes me feel like my purpose in life is accomplished.

Words are everywhere around us but I feel it is best represented written. Written words are the purest form, the kind which is unadulterated by accessories such as expressions or actions which can alter the meaning of these words. If words were air then written words would be the air inside a balloon. If utilized properly it becomes a source of power, a source of joy, a reason for life.

But how many have the time for this basic form of words in today’s world?

How many people can take time out to listen to the ramblings of a book like me!

(Excerpt from 'If I could just speak' by a hurt,forgotten book)

Not the dentist again!

I have a thing with dentists. Now don’t get me wrong, I am not attracted to them! For heavens sake no! The image which comes into my mind when I think of dentists is that of a masked individual with a drill in one hand, a tiny mirror in the other and an evil glint in his/her eyes (the kind which says that my next half hour is in his hands…. literally!). Why then would I see someone like that without unless I don’t have a choice.

My episode with dentists began around the second year of college. As is with any new experience, I decided to be brave through it. I convinced myself that pain is a just a feeling which is triggered by the brain and that I, the master of my body, controlled the signals sent out by my brain. The first few hours at that chair were spent constantly repeating the above lines to myself. This was after I ‘convinced’ my brain that the drilling noises coming from inside my mouth were imaginary.

All went well for the first few visits. I was pretty sure that my theory worked and I had succeeded in reducing the amount of pain I felt. If I came across anything mentioning the excruciating pain associated with root canal, I couldn’t help but be filled with pride at the discovery I had made. For me this was an achievement. It led me to gain a new confidence in myself. There was nothing I could not do. All that was required was to ‘tell’ my brain what to do and voila it was done. With the new confidence I had gained, I began applying the same to almost every thing in my life – happiness, sadness, dedication, jealousy… Life was full of possibilities and all I had to do was to just explore it. The factor of inadequacy had simply managed to disappear and I was all set to rule the world I live in.

And then, on one of those ordinary days with yet another dentist visit, my state of mind being fairly relaxed and the mantra for reducing pain playing in my head, it had all seemed very ordinary. The bright light above my head – very ordinary. The dentist doing his job – very very ordinary. The sudden stinging pain which started at the gums and felt like it navigated all over my body – not ordinary at all! This was not meant to happen. I was filled with self doubt – did I do something which caused the mantra to stop working? Did my brain stop listening to me? Was I losing the control I thought I had over my body? This was definitely not meant to happen! NO way.

I dreaded every dentist visit after that. Every moment in that chair was spent fearing and anticipating the pain which I may or may not experience. Even a small sting started to feel like an unbearable pain. I would shut my eyes as soon as I saw the dentist with his tools, fists would be tightly clenched, and I would be all set to scream even at the remote feel of pain. It is this fear and not me which took control of me for those entire half hour visit to the dentist.

Anticipating something painful which may or may not happen did not benefit me much. It did not reduce the pain I felt; on the contrary it may have increased it. It led me to spend a portion of my life in total agony even if that portion was just half an hour. It also led me to spend a considerable amount of time dreading the time I would be spending in agony!

But it did do a few good things too. It made me realize that few things such as pain did not come under the ‘I can control it’ category, that fear did nothing useful, and that the same fear comes under the ‘I can control it’ category and finally it also gave me the inspiration to write another post.

p.s. I still rule most of the world I live in.

An idle mind is devils workshop!

What is a proverb? Wikipedia defines a proverb as a simple and concrete saying popularly known and repeated, which expresses a truth, based on common sense or the practical experience of humanity.

I have always found proverbs as an astonishing source of entertainment. How can one sentence be profound and yet at the same time take me back to years bygone, making me imagine what infinitesimal insignificant incident would have triggered its origin. After all, all big things must start somewhere very small.

An idle mind is devils workshop.

Ever wondered where this proverb came from? I can, in all possibilities just imagine 3 scenarios.

One , the person in question might have benefited from the experience of others which, in this case could mean he/she stood in one corner and watched an idle mind get into mischief (probably had a good laugh on their account) and say "hmm poor fool..let me enlighten the world with what I gained out of his/her misfortune " . Now this makes one wonder what kind of mischief the idle mind could have gotten into (an endless array of possibilities) and how idle would the authors mind have been to actually observe this and go through the trouble of propagating it and whether we should actually acknowledge an adage from such a source whose state of mind for all you know could be the devils itself.

Second in this analysis could be someone who has been through it himself and wishes for the future to benefit from his experience, a classic case of parents telling their children what not to do after they themselves do it. What if the children were good and blindly followed the advice? A couple of generations down the line, the advice would become meaningless, a mere sentence with a long forgotten foundation. Goes against lesson 101 of - Thinking for yourself.

Third could be someone who is actually in that particular state of idleness of mind and is shocked at the relevance of that sentence and wants to desperately warn as many people as possible. And oh ya that same person could be (I emphasize on could be) writing blogs to get rid of all that is evil in her head.