A muted expression

One of the most important things any person in a public domain is told is to watch this and watch that. I mean, everyone has phones with a video recording facility. And there are twerps who install cameras in restrooms and upload them on YouTube. So much so that when we travel abroad on concerts, we don't stay at hotels.

And also, I learn that the fundamental right to expression and speech really doesnt exist, more so for people who everyone watches. But true nonetheless for everyone. You cannot freely discuss something for the sake of argument/learning wondering if it would hurt some said sentiment somewhere. 

Sometimes I ReTweet a link so that people (whoever is interested) could read an opinion about something. Now depending on sensitivity or perceived sensitivity, I would immediately get warnings, be careful, or you'll be trolled. Now I think I could have a masters degree on being trolled, especially because, I belong to a certain 'caste'. Its amazing how uneducated people are inspite of their NRI status.

 

Nonetheless I am just thinking/realizing that there really isn't anything called freedom of speech.  Not with your friends/family. One will only have freedom of thought. You can think whatever you want. We just need to watch how we (if we do at all) verbalize it into words. 

Lifetimes are spent, without expressing what we want to. We fade in. And we fade out.

And maybe even the concept of freedom is imaginary. Unless and until one is a realized soul. Only they have the good fortune after hours of practice, to be truly free. 

For most where self-realization is not achieved, life perhaps passes by and is lived, with the mute button on, in most cases.

A divine romance...

Sometimes this thing called divine romance is well, romantic. To romance the idea of being free of attachments and being one with the supreme being. The romance of imagining the freedom, bliss perhaps that may come as a result of one such thing. The concept of chinmaya. The supreme wisdom and realization that results in profound joy. Nirvana also I guess.

Or one can romance the idea of living in a guile-less, deceit-less, pure, crystal clear world. Where green is the sparkling, bright, green that heals the eye and fairies fly near humans. Where morning dew is sprinkled with fairy dust and a rose with a scent heady enough to drench the surrounding town.

Sometimes I imagine floating up, into the inky sky speckled with stars, in the hope of finding that stillness. A stillness I really not know of but might be able to identify when I come face to face with it.

There are times I romance the tears, for there is no such thing as heavy while it rolls down your cheek, perhaps in a solitary trickle. Perhaps in two or three. And no such thing as the lightness it leaves behind as it dries out. 

There are times when I romance the fabled bliss that saints seem to have achieved. High up in the lofty Himalayas.

And there are times I romance the mountains, times I romance the lakes, times that I romance the imagination of watching the fast and furious world from outer space. 

I romance being away from myself. Far away and just watching this human being walking around in the name of Chinmayi. Doing all that she is supposed to do. 

Quite recently mom and I decided to do away with the concept of a Pooja room. After all, rituals are perhaps one of the first levels in God realization. There has to be a point where one has enough focus and concentration to do the pooja in your mind. My romance with temples and religious sites will never end.

The other day reading how Krishna explains the concept of Maya in an Amar Chitra Katha (Tales of Narada) made me think how weird it is. What we own, owns us. Ain't it? Or does it? 

Having read enough and more literature on past life regression on how people feel in the after-life, or even other than that, I am one of those people who speaks very nonchalantly of death. I mean I think its a liberating concept, based on all the literature I have read. And also based on some of our own scriptures that all this life and death thing is a cycle. Apparently even in the Tarot, drawing the card of Death usually means a new beginning is around the corner. 

But more than anything else I guess I romance the idea of the pitch perfect note and the truth in it. And truth itself. The agony would be in the wait though. The wait for the truth. And liberation.

Virtual proposals and other real stories

I have been meaning to blog about this for a while, since I am asked on a daily basis or congratulated about an impending marriage. Well thank you. But honestly I have no idea about the why-s and how-s of this news story surfacing now, all of a sudden. Yes every mother wants her daughter married and my mom is no different. She polambifies when she gets a chance. Perhaps someone thought it worthy of making it a story and also added we do maangalya pooja whenever we get the time. I'm now curious about the maangalya pooja, in all seriousness.(I also joked that they were kind to write I was going to be married and not planning on secretly eloping)

In all these years I have gotten advice on being extremely careful on finding the right person and be wary of traps. Non-famous girls get blackmailed, you better be cautious, I'd be told. And sooner or later one just had to read news stories to understand there are so many things going wrong and the number of perverts on the loose ... I despair for the girls whose back God didn't watch. (For the men who probably got wrong partners in women, my sympathies with you too)

There is a reason I am writing this post. To tell you about a couple of people I came across in the virtual world and whose mails would land on my inbox, all mostly uni-directional communication. There were times I would try and reason out and then figured it was useless and of course mom would be informed of all these mails. Interestingly these men would CC to mom as well, so it kinda cut some work for me. I shall be polite enough to not disclose identities, but this is an FYI to everyone who is finding a groom (I can only talk of personal experience)  for their daughters. 

So I am regular on Twitter. You, reading this post would know that, I presume. I tweet randomly about something under the sun, or RT something, Mr X1 assumes it is all for him. And sends me a mail, asking why I am indirectly tweeting to him. Initially I responded, since I usually respond to most mails, when I have the time, asking what this was in reference to. He says I know you love me and that's why you tweet all those things. And this was the beginning. It went upto "ASK AUNTY TO TALK because I am looking at what is best for OUR future". He also claimed his family knew about it. Now I don't understand how his entire family would go with "all her tweets are indirectly for me and she loves me". Some mails would be downright vulgar. Some abusive. Then he says "Your time is UP! I am going ahead with my life now since you failed to respond!!". Then he would blame me for the excessive depression for 2 years he went through because of me. Last heard a mail claiming to be from his mother lands up. I seriously doubt if it was from her, or if he mailed that himself too. Nonetheless that's that.

Guy X2 calls my mother Athamma, has told his family he is 'fixed on marrying me'. And asks me "Why do you want to be a heroine? If you want to be actress you'll have to forget me and our love". Oh, he also believes all my tweets are indirectly for him. Now God only knows when I said I want to be a heroine. Don't even ask about the "our love" part. Then he graciously compromises and says "Chinnu you can be serial heroine. I ll be OK with that" or something to that effect. Then one day I just RT an image of a wedding ring which leaves the impression 'MARRIED" on your skin if you have worn it a while and have removed it. And X2 says "Our wedding ring super ra.." For a second I was taken aback. What wedding ring?, I shouted in my head. And then I put 2 and 2 together. I made 4. He made 7 1/2. I think its all because of some 7 1/2 that I am going through all this. X2's mails are particularly hilarious and worrying at the same time. I get a dozen mails a day from him.  Today's mail read, waiting eagerly for marriage with chinnu. Sigh.

I am not writing about this for entertainment value. But because, today as an adult, I shudder to think, that these 2 guys, (there have been a few others who were on this delusional trip including a man in his mid 40-s, but I shall stop here) who are educated, one of them studies abroad in a reputed university (!), seem to come from sound backgrounds and look absolutely fine, go on such trips and these are the kinda guys will marry some unassuming girl somewhere.

I even tell people, that being who I am, its extreemely easy to find out about me. For the said 'background checks' you know? I m in the public domain. Easier to find out about me. But I on the other hand, will never know about a guy or a family posing to be normal like X1 I mentioned above, I would never know if he was stalking someone, has some obsessive pattern of behaviour, what the actual intentions are... well I can go on and on.

To you reading this post, if you are single/unattached/about to be hitched, whatever. I ll tell you this, from all the advice I have got. I am not so sure about the better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I have seen people I know go through hell, when they lost. Some still do. Its perhaps easier to follow the heart and enjoy the butterflies. But please do follow your head. Think it through solidly. Speak to adults if you are young or even if you think you are old enough. There are not too many things in life that experience and sound advice can replace. Its great if that can come for you from within the family. I have mom first. We have made quite a formidable team as I see from general public perception, now that I am considered to be in 'the marriage market' (bleargh for that term).  And it is also funny to see how many people are insecure because of the kind of a bond mom and I share. Pah. Too many people cannot understand the Guru and the mother concept. We also have a few close people who are my mom's well-wishers and friends. A circle who has seen us through all these years. Non-judgmental and razor-blade honest. 

Follow your gut instinct and always, always listen to the inner voice. Don't ever ignore it. And be careful. Very careful. Please don't marry because your great-grandparents want to see great-great grandchildren. Or because of social pressure. Things were simpler until our parents' time I think. It is not so now as I am told and as I myself see. 

We marry not the individual but the families too. If you think you cannot like the family, then the marriage is going to be difficult, and if you plan on having children, know that you cannot tell your children later to stay away from their own family. This was another advice given to me and I have also learned from observation, looking at some unhappy people and children and decided that is not what I want.  A week back when I was in Hyderabad on work, a man married for 8 years said, you could know someone for years before you re married. But after you are married, you discover a whole new person. 

As for looking through matrimonial sites and getting to know total strangers and marrying them, I personally shudder at the thought. But I know there are people who are very happily married this way too. Perhaps its all destiny. And fairy dust. And all that. I do believe its better to be single than be in an unhappy marriage. 

I wrote about X1 and X2 because there are times when you may meet a seemingly normal person. But there are things one might never know. And during those times, they say some alarm bells ring, something doesn't feel right. Don't ignore that. Follow your gut instinct. And there are times when the background checks will never find out if someone had some behavioural anomalies like those I mentioned above. And finally to you reading this blog, if you intend to marry, may God give you a nice person and a beautiful family to marry into. If you don't intend to, which is an idea I court (mom is gonna kill me!:p) well may you be happy even then. Tathaastu!

Quests..

I was reading the Amar Chitra Katha title on Aushadha Kumar, a reincarnation of Bodhisatva. 

Thanks to his wisdom and his growing popularity in court, the other ministers became jealous of him and unsuccessfully plotted his downfall as often as they could. One of the ministers, Senaka, was usually the mastermind and incessantly tried inspite of his failed attempts to defame Aushadha Kumar. 

In one of his attempts, he asks Aushadha Kumar, "What must man acquire?" AK replies, "Truth" and then, Wealth, Mantra and finally the ability to keep a secret". How Senaka uses these responses to plot another wicked plan against Aushadha Kumar forms the climax of the story.

What struck me here was that, acquiring truth, which was mentioned as the first on the list of things AK says man must acquire. I am wondering if that was taught to us in school. Or while growing up. As we became adults, we learned first hand, that truth was usually the first thing to be sacrificed in several instances. 

One of my personal, most important quests is my search for truth. Of the past. The present. The future. Depending on the day, its either at the back of my mind or the only thing on my mind while I go about doing other things that I routinely do. 

We do everything possible to acquire wealth, some of us acquire mantra, depending on the family we are raised in and retention and practice of it depends on our own convictions we form as we grow up. The ability to keep a secret is truly rare as much as I know. I am not sure how many people I know one can trust with a secret.

There are some things I believe can completely change this world. And perhaps topping that list would be truth - in my opinion, of course. I could be absolutely wrong. Perhaps compassion and love would be better candidates in changing the world. 

Nevertheless I wish someday I ll know and realize the truth. Sigh. :)

And after typing out all this I have a feeling this post is so random. But then published it shall be.

Letters and etc

We happened to find letters that are over 2 or 3 decades old and reminisced about how, perhaps things were nicer in a different age. Mom said, we just pick up the phone and talk these days and there is no real record of communication and the art of writing beautiful, handwritten letters are just almost gone. 

Maybe out of wanting something belonging to an age that is not too long-gone, we got a landline at home. (I guess that was my secret intention. It was actually invested in for the purpose of an internet connection) And that too after perhaps 12+ years. I remember all the phone numbers and mobile numbers that we have ever had, including a pager (!) as well. Whatttttay(n) achievement, no? :p

Enough and more has been said about all this mobile radiation hurting the ears and the brain and all that. Whether that is true, whether there is scientific evidence, or whether that is a conspiracy theory or not, it doesn't matter really. I know its not possible to do away with the mobile phone, at least not yet, but I want to see if I can minimize using it. 

At times I feel like I am watching my own life go by. Like watching a train chug away. And at times I am the participant. Centre-stage, with the spotlight on me. Someone said Happiness is but a choice away. And I wonder if it all is really that easy. Or do we just pretend everything is OK, like we have become immune to all the wrongdoing all around us, happening to us, or to people we know or to strangers and move on to yet another day, yet another challenge or something mundane?

Someone I really respect asked me to smile more often. And told me to be happy. Just about a week ago. That's when I wondered did I really forget to smile often, or was I never really the smiley-face kind? Not talking about smiling for photographs but more so in real life. Coming to think of it, some photographers struggle to get the smile out of me. Poor things. Anyway. 

I guess, more than anything else, I am the kind that watches. Observes at times. And takes a lot of things in, silently. I look for signs of synchronicity. Or signs that signal something or the other. But then I do get some message or the other from the heavens above.

I guess at this point I want to veer into writing about following your instinct. But I shall reserve that post for another day. It will contain several 2 cents from various people. In an abridged manner hopefully, if I get around to writing it well.

Just giving this post a once-over, I wonder if I really got around to saying anything concrete, but, I do wish for you reading this post, that I hope you find what truly makes you happy. As soon as possible. I wish for you that you don't have to pretend to be happy (if you are that is) and can truly be joyous and may there be joy all around you. I wish for you that when you go to sleep each night, you fall asleep with a smile on your lips that radiates from your heart. I wish for you that when you wake up each day, you see sunshine and joy. And just so that as human beings, lest we forget, I also wish you a tear or two, once in a blue moon and that you'd have several hands to wipe those tears away and may you live happily ever after. As we all believed as children, in happy endings.

Tathaastu

P.S.: Random thought. Do boys also read fairy tales? But then I guess if they didn't while growing up, I guess as fathers they would have read one or two, for their children... ah well. Me and my train of thoughts.

Baking Egg-free and jibes

A couple of years ago, (it could be slightly more than that too) I suddenly developed an interest in baking. Not that it was new-found. My mom had made a house-shaped cake for my first birthday, in an age where there were no electric whisks and all that. Everything had to be done by hand - artisanal - as it has come to be known today.

There was a small hitch though. Baking egg-free. Because of my belief systems and also because I wasn't a fan of the eggy flavour. I couldn't tolerate this taste since when I was a 2-3 year old, reportedly. I wouldn't touch ice-cream that had egg-based custard. I would say "it smells weird" in Marathi. A language, as I would have said earlier, which was the first I ever learned. And sadly forgot after we left Mumbai - The place I referred to as 'Ghar' for years. 

Now when I said I make cakes, the first question would be - How? Eggs? And I would say egg-free. I would probably face a good stream of jibes about how sad it is, yadayadayada. 

Only thing is I have seen so many people fawning over, lets say, non-Indians who have become Buddhists or follow the Yin-Yang method of eating and say wow, you don't eat eggs? meat? Spicy food? That's just AMAZING!

However, being a vegetarian all my life, if I said, I am a strict vegetarian, but eat dairy products (and please don't leave a comment saying that milk is non-vegetarian. This is just the way I am) the next thing would be why don't you try some meat or the other. I was once asked to 'try' Deer meat in Canada. Now for the life of me, I cannot imagine how people would have the heart kill such a peace loving, beautiful animal and eat it. Not that hens and goats or cows go on a rampage and wage war. But well that is my opinion. Saapdunga, nalla irukkum. Pazhagikkonga, I would be told. I'd rather starve than eat meat. Something that Ilayaraja sir also said when we went to the concert to Italy. I was surprised to know Raja sir was a very strict vegetarian. And incidentally, we were the only two, if I remember right, that survived on flavored yoghurt and apples for more than a week. And I live to tell the tale, more than 8 years on, no? I remember Raja sir chiding a gentleman, a vegetarian, who said he was soo hungry that he'd eat a hamburger, "You might as well cease to live". The remark hit home.

Anyway, coming back, two years ago it was difficult to find an oven in Chennai. Now there are at least some options! On that note Miele India, if you can read this, there is no point in selling an oven for 2.5 Lakhs if it cant even hold a basic 10" round pan. Please get real.

Now, a lot of people have taken to baking. I don't know how this fad started. I used to be taunted by so many on Twitter when I posted a pic or two about egg-free cakes. And I once made an egg-free macaron. Yes the French Macaron, and not macaroons. Tastes amazing. Got it right after 6 failed attempts. And realized the 6 times were a failure mainly because of my oven. I soo wish more of these oven brands come down. The hobby bakers list is growing like mad.

Nevertheless, I learned Vegan baking was big in the US. So is egg-free, nut-free baking, mainly because of food-allergies. I am not vegan, but adapted recipes to egg-free only. 

And now there is a huge community of bakers and even more people asking for egg-free recipes. And now, I am smiling to myself. And I don't mind taking some credit for the change because of all the egg-free cake tooting I did on Twitter the past couple of years.

It could be something as simple as hobby-baking. But one more lesson learnt. If you choose to not bend over backwards and stick to your beliefs, things will change. For your benefit. Especially when it is not hurting anyone, really.

As for being made fun of about being a vegetarian, that will never cease, definitely not in Tamilnadu :)

Life sometimes teaches us many things. I continue to learn. I can count with my both hands and a few toes the number of people that have contributed with well-wish and prayers to the person I am today. Only one person can take credit for this human being I am today, that is my mother. 

I happened to tweet about relatives  today and how suddenly I am remembered in super distant family circles that I have no idea about. I mean, you need to grow up with these people to know who is related to you and how. But then that's a different story. I happened to be in one of my sarcastic moods, but 140 characters sometimes doesn't convey sarcasm. It gets interpreted by the reader as anger. I wonder why. Sometimes, what I tweet is plainspeak. Perhaps someday I need to videotape 140 characters so that people know how I look :p OK now that's really too much, but I had to say that.

I repeat time and again there are things I won't forgive this Mr God for. And that is for the tough life mom had to face. For all her brain and intelligence, which truly intimidated and scared people then and they did everything they could to stop her, and they succeeded, sadly, and they are some of the biggest names in the classical music arena that one might know today. Celebrated as legends, great musicians. Perhaps. But I sadly saw faces that were loathsome behind all the marks of devotion that graced foreheads. Behind the silks. The said sanctity. Conniving. And I saw some 'great' people's true colours when I was around 8-9 years old. Was I disappointed. I totally was. The next time I met some of these people, even if mom told me to do a namaskaram, I wouldn't. I'd embarrass her. But that was me.

I was training to be a Carnatic classical singer. I belonged to a lineage. A certain school of music. Playback singing as a choice that happened when I was about 13. Around the same time I switched to Hindustani Classical music. I was a CCRT scholarship holder for young talents, was receiving the scholarship for Carnatic Classical, at a time when my judges were doyens like Smt Mani Krishnaswamy. Not easy to pass under their sharp ears and eyes. I remember her with fondness, one of the few people I truly respected in the Carnatic music field. 

However I threw in the towel and decided I will not sing Carnatic music - Why? Because I could never get on stage and praise some of the musicians I have known to be downright mean and unjust. I could never bow to them in obeisance. Even if mom kept telling me to respect the Saraswati in them. And then I was like why does She dwell in them at all? They don't deserve it. Such was my sense of perhaps misplaced justice (or whatever it was, foolhardiness or anything else you may want to call it) and I decided I ll never sing Carnatic classical on the competitive arena. I might sing it because I adore my mom's school of music. The way she sings. But not otherwise. My progeny will learn from her. Was my mom disappointed? Of course she was. She was sad. Perhaps she cried without my knowing. But she let me have my way. Inspite of people believing she has an iron hand over my life, she has let me take most of the decisions in life. I think any other parent in her stead would have asked me to shut and force me to sing Carnatic Music. Overnight she switched over to teach me Hindustani classical, something she pursued when she was in Bombay (that's what the city was when I was born there) for years. She was apprehensive, because she did not have a 'stamp' of a 'successful' musician. So she sent me to a few people. I would last 2-3 classes. And bounce back. That's all.

Sometimes they say you need the proverbial fire in your belly to push you toward your dreams. Just when I might even hazard to think that perhaps, just perhaps, God is contemplating being kind, the fire returns :) Someone's wrongdoing, a word here, an action there. And trust me on this. These words and actions have a certain effect. It is not about ignoring weirdos really. There are people we must ignore. And people we must not make the mistake of ignoring.

One might think that I had it easy with a break like Kannathil Muthamittal. But, (I have quoted the Late Pt Bhimsen Joshi before on this blog I guess), "if you had to see the path I had travel, you'd not want to be where I am today". 

But what makes someone a fighter? What is it that gives the will to fight instead of just throwing hands up and resigning, with enough already (must say here there was a point in time, not too long ago that I thought it was end of the road, end of music, everything {not to be mistaken for suicidal tendencies - [have to put that disclaimer too coz God knows how that will be construed]}) *those multiple brackets I last used while battling algebra... Oh well anyway... I drift.. these words will typically fit in a speech bubble hovering around the 3rd line to the top from here. Ufff!*

So anyway, what's the point of this post? Which I have come to type down after more than a month? Ah yes. 

Someone on Twitter told me that when I was introduced people used to make fun of me because I said "Amma this.. Amma that" I am here because of Amma. I mean, really, why so much vitriol? Why does it irk people that I am grateful to mom? Not that it missed my mom's notice that she used to come when an interview would be shot and tell the crew to edit the portions where I mentioned her. Yup she did that. Glad most crew didn't oblige. (Nice people :D)

And today the same people respect me for who I am, and mom too. I couldn't help but smile to myself that it takes about 10 years plus to prove yourself. It takes a decade for people to know what you stand for. Not that I really wanted to prove a point, in retrospect, but, I learned today that there is nothing wrong in sticking to your guns if its based in truth and dharma. (Yudhistra is my role model. But being completely like him won't work today. But I try) No matter how uncool you are perceived to be. No matter what the 'cool'er people think. Your life is yours to live. For yourself. Your own conscience. None of these '4 people' really care a damn. They'll clap if you do well. Spit on you if you don't. Very few people will ultimately matter. You are lucky if you have those few people with you, fighting with and for you. If you think you are alone in a battle, know that you are not. The creator and the Universe is with you. As long as the war is based on Dharma (In my Humble Opinion).

Until some years ago, mom fought a lone battle. And then I joined in. Life goes on. Is battling fun? Absolutely :) I have music with me all the time and when I need a break, I bake. That's all :p I bake egg free.. I bake quite well too even if I say so myself... I must put up a photoblog.. ah well. I am no good with the camera.

Just a couple of days ago I heard a pretty caustic compliment (yup there is something called a caustic compliment) about the awards I won for Sarakathu. Its divine grace that I won every award that I was nominated for this year. All thanks to Ghibran, the composer, for that. Vairamuthu sir and Sargunam sir too. I think once in a while God decides to hand us a candy once in a while. :D

Anyway the reason I didn't blog in a month was I had a viral fever attack. And absolutely no urge to write either. 

To you, reading this post, if someone is constantly contributing to the fire in your belly, while you are working toward your goals, say thanks to the prodding. Because they are losing all their energy in irritating you then work toward their betterment. And hence you are getting ahead. 

In our pursuance of whatever we want to pursue, if we but take that extra effort to be righteous, it all seems worth it. In the end. In the middle. On the way. Throughout. 

Is there

a Bookstore which sells ancient and rare books of India? Please do let me know.

Upbringing .....

The other day when we visited someone, I saw a kid, perhaps around 5-6 years of age demand in a loud voice to his grandmom "Where is the 500/- that I kept in my box?" To which the lady replied, "You were the one who gave it to me last week, isn't it?" And now the upstart of a boy demands again, "You better give me the money right now" And the grandmom says "I will give it back to you with interest, don't worry" Now the boys starts throwing a tantrum. The mother of the boy watches this entire exchange with a smile on her face and doesnt move an inch to reprimand the kid. To say the least, we were stupefied. What is this concept of a 6 year old who has just learnt to talk full sentences demand 'his' money, from his grandparents? And what is this concept of the parent just watching this like it is entertainment?

In another case, the parents of someone I know hardly care where their son/daughter goes. And the kids hate being questioned,  "Where are you/when will you be back/whom are you with?". The response from their side will usually be rude "What the hell..... blah blah blah". 

Now the thing is, I have been told and taught to report at each given instance about my whereabouts to my mother. The concept of reporting simple things and at times, even important things to elders has probably become extinct today, that I find myself not able to gel with people my age and even looking down upon attitude problems between peers and their parents. "Araatthu" is how such youngsters have been termed by parents I know. The thing is, what prevents parents from reprimanding their children? Or what prevents children from obeying their parents? Is it because the parents have lost respect with their children at some level that these days in arguments between families reportedly, there are people who say "its not as if your parents are amazing". So, is it that if one decides to follow values that their parents perhaps didn't in some instances, immediately the retort and insults begin with the parents each other's families. In an instance of marital discord that I heard of, the first person that the man insulted was the girl's father. "Not that your father was a great man that you can question me". Now this sort of an argument I find bizarre. Is this simply an offense is a defense mechanism sort of a thing?

I remember, even when my grandfather was some 89 or 90 (he lived to 93) my mom used to go and ask permission , not announce about what she is about to do, but ask permission on somethings and ask what does he think about it? The same exercise would follow with my grandmother. Though my ammamma would eventually say "Nee enna pannalum seriyadhaan pannuve Paddu".

When I was younger I used to see my grandfather and mom agree to disagree on issues/decisions. And when I said anything remotely disrespectful (owing to something that I could have imbibed from school or other kids) my mom would be right behind me to twist my ear and make me apologize. Sometimes my grandparents used to tell me not to mingle with a couple of cousins, much to their ire, not that I blame my grandparents or the cousins. But that was how it was. Maybe their blessing is taking me forward.

I hardly see parents reprimanding children for their bad behaviour these days. Why? Instead, they smile, giggle and laugh it off. I had huge issues like these when I was hosting this reality show on TV. I saw terrible behaviour from kids. Maybe their parents also couldn't handle media attention. Suddenly we were asked to refer to a 12 year old boy as "Sir" by his parent and interestingly the father himself referred to his own 12 year old son as "Sir". I see the trend continuing with some other parents who think their kids have become too big.

Now I see a huge chasm in the way my mother used to insist on several things with me, which have now become a habit and others who don't follow it. At any given point in time, my mother knows where I am. I know so many other parents who don't know and don't seem to want to find out. Is it fear of being insulted by the kids once more if they ask "Where are you?" or "Where were you?" or "Where did you go?" that they'd rather keep quiet and not ask? Is it the parents' inability, apathy or the fatigue in dealing with the disrespectful attitudes of their own children. Or have the parents at some time failed to lead by example? Could that be the reason?

I guess I have become even more critical of parents who cant discipline their children or teach them how to behave, especially post my experiences on being a presenter on a reality show that dealt with kids. Needless to say, I have criticized the attitude of some contestants openly when they spoke in a certain manner to the judges or anyone else. I, however, to most of these contestants was 'just' a compere. And I was to be treated differently than they spoke to the directors/judges in the show. I also saw how contestants knew which side of the bread was to be buttered and so many other things, in short, something I guess would be called street-smart. By the way, this is a comment and not criticism and I so wish I had had the street-smart, sweet-talking capacity that I saw in contestants ranging from 6 to 24 in Super Singer, in myself. Being street-smart is clearly a talent.I remember that some of the crew-members and I had kinda decided to not send our respective children to school, if this is the way the kids ultimately turned out. But then whats the point in blaming schools? There were times when the crew would say "you cant understand what those kids are saying, they are beyond all of us.. namma ellaarayum vithu vellam vaangitu poiduvaanunga". It was funny then, this entire thing, but in retrospect, I think its worrying. And obviously no one would care in correcting behaviour because who wants to get the 'bad name'? Which is why even judges are scared of criticising kids on any reality show. Why should they get the bad name from a general public who misunderstand encouragement and criticism for betterment? Judges are only expected to praise, praise, praise away even very mediocre talent. And no performer will want to jeopardize his popularity quotient by criticising children/contestants in a reality show today. There is a huge difference between encouragement and wanton praise. And praise at that fledgling level never got anyone anywhere. This however, time will easily tell. Eventually the people in the business/art know that the one who makes it would have gone through the grind and there is no short cut. In the meanwhile however, season after season contestants come and contestants go. We know where they come from in most cases. But God knows where they go. The channels would only be interested in the next batch. The older batch is forgotten the day the finals happen and all is done and dusted. 

Sadly upstart behaviour from kids has become the norm. And the few like me who have grown up with strict discipline have become outcasts that I am afraid to even remark or even have a ludicrous expression on my face. True like they say, this is not the era of values, ethics or even basic things like having an innate respect to an elder. And many a times, I feel like I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. And these are instances where I feel I truly don't belong and feel like retiring to the hills :p hehe.

Post X3

Being in the (now cliched for me) 'spotlight' I am expected to have an opinion about everything. Well everyone has an opinion about a lot of things. But I am expected to express it on demand. Even on things I don't really or need to have an opinion about. But now, thanks to the credibility which my mother and now I, have built through the past decade, journalists understand where I come from when I say perhaps that I don't feel like talking about it or that I don't have an opinion about it. 

Also now, thanks to Twitter, I am expected to wish people I know in the industry, on Twitter, which to me is absurd. I can pick up the phone and wish them. Or send them an SMS. Why profess all the Happy Birthdays on Twitter or Facebook? That can be for someone who has no connect with the star. And also initially I was expected to have an opinion on the films I watched. On the stars I like. Or don't like. Once I realized that, I stopped tweeting about films I have watched. If I don't talk about it no one will ask. However, if I do attend a preview and the photos come about as proof, I am asked nonetheless and I exercise my fundamental right to silence at these instances. I have also faced enough cyber bullying from groups of fans at varying points in time that I positively MUST say that I am fan of a certain star. Fact remains that I get to see, meet and work with most of the actors that others get to see on screen. I can tell them in person about ideas or opinions if any. And I still think so. And more than anything else there are a lot of exchange of ideas and discussions that I have been privy to at studios while recording and dubbing.

However there is another reason to this post. And the reason happens to be Aishwarya Rai Bachchan. All my short life I have only liked actors who are special for something else other than their achievement in a certain field. It could be acting. Or it could be Miss World. I needed to admire them for an additional quality. One of the actors I first loved was Revathi. Fact was she is my mom's favorite and the first 2 films I have watched she played the lead. Pudhiya Mugam and Anjali. The third was Bombay. 

Now, the entire world loved Aishwarya Rai Bachchan from the time I was in 5th standard. I guess that's when she became Miss World. And just because of that, eventhough I thought she is extremely beautiful I wouldn't follow the pack. Aishwarya Rai Bachchan would be majorly credited in inspiring thousands of girls wanting to take up modeling /walk the ramp. Most girls I knew wanted to be like her. 

Now especially after reading how amazingly opinionated a size zero-loving humungous group of nobodies are with regard to how she absolutely MUST become 'thin' like right away, and how mainstream media is also popularizing these opinions and giving article after article is well, blech.

I admire the way she says she is not going on a diet for anybody. I admire the way she refuses to bow down to national/international pressure on how she must look. And I admire the way she cares a rat's posterior for all the myriad opinions and lives her life according to her terms. If you feel that you are under pressure, please compare your life to ARB's and I am sure you'll feel better after that. Now I would sincerely tell a girl to have ARB's attitude. I give it to her for her spunk and confidence. And today, in my opinion, she is more Miss World than she was in 1996.

When the going gets tough, Study.

One of the lessons that my mother has taught me is this. When the going gets tough, plunge into studying. As I have mentioned at several instances in various media that of all the people that I have personally gotten to know and info on instances in whose lives I have been privy to, or as much as I have been given to know and understand, it seems to me that my mother will definitely be sharing the space of toughest lifetimes led.  But she has told me this much. Whenever things were terrible, she decided to study. And it left her with no time to brood about the goings on and when the tough times eased a bit, she found herself endowed with knowledge. It left her richer, in both experience and learning. 

Honestly, in comparison, she has given me an amazing life, sheltered, protected - though many may complain about it. But then hey, I am lucky to have a mom who is an intellectual, a visionary and knows how to channelize my energies. I have seen parents who are happy to be detached or those who have no option but to be detached. But then, to each his own. One has to walk a mile in someone else's moccasins to understand why they do the things they do.

To the outsider, I might be leading a charmed life. But there will always be things that the world will never know. Struggles that we face on a daily basis in the name of... - oh well, give it any name you will - the rampant injustice that I see and people who play along because it is convenient. It can leave one more disillusioned than ever. We all have our downtimes. Justified or not. And a lot would like to indulge in self pity and bemoan the situation. I am not ashamed to say I complain too. I am not a saint. At least not yet that I have mastered the art of detachment. And I have now decided that if I think God is being mean to me, I will study. And I realize now that studying is beautiful. Especially if you study in a goal oriented manner. It can be anything. A simple exam at any university. Or something that you have set for yourself. After all we know ourselves best. We know our deepest secrets. The day we begin to lie to ourselves is when we become the ultimate losers. 

There was a time when if I got angry with God, this God got a sound verbal thrashing from me. And I used to curse him saying that he'd pay for all this. Ah the gall, one would think, to curse God himself. But then that's me. I can curse him and get away with it, because I know I am in the right. I laugh now, thinking about all that I used to do, not so long ago, but I don't regret it. I might curse God even today. Especially when I know that I haven't swerved from the path of ethics and justice. 

So yes, inspite of all the nonsense that I see around me, all the nonsense and bullcrap that gets doled out, I channelize my thoughts on studying/reading/learning. Its far better than wasting energy brooding about people or circumstances or decisions arising thereof, on which we have no control and on people and circumstances that have anyway fallen so low that there is no redemption. One doesn't know if there will come a day when ultimately justice is served. But for now, its best to stick to the path of deeper learning and who knows, I might end up wiser. And maybe, just maybe, this too shall pass.

Of reading and writing

I have been reading and studying, voraciously at times, happy-go-luckily at others, but the past few months have contributed to a swell of books at the bedside. 

I was tweeting a little earlier about the books I picked up today. Some on Anthropology as this subject seems to have caught my fancy lately and am very disappointed by the lack of resources on Indian Anthropology though I am sure there must have been enough and more works that have been published and which are I shall hazard to guess, are out of print today. Once a person begins something, starts something somewhere - and I refer to studying or reading up on a subject with an initial casual intent but as the interest picks up the urge to know more might eventually consume the 'student' to go to the very beginning of it all. So here I was wanting to read up about Tribes and cultures. And then going back to anthropology. And then thinking of Linguistics and realizing once again Anthropology I would have to go back to. You know, things like that.

And today, as I decided to go to Higginbothams, in addition to being disappointed about the lack of literature that I was looking for, I happened to chance upon this particular book on Sarat and Subhas Chandra Bose titled 'Brothers against the Raj'. I have always been intrigued by Bose, just like I m sure, scores and scores of people before me. There is a perennial mystery about him. And I like the man. However I decided to know more about him than what the rudimentary books on Indian history spoke of. Once I got through the introduction, I realized rampantly available accounts of the freedom struggle that children grow up reading of doesn't speak much about Sarat Chandra Bose, as has been mentioned by the author. For that matter, after discussions and listening to some people, I have been given to understand that important contributions of countless others have not been properly documented and even if they were, have not been allowed to become 'popular'. I shall refrain from divulging more at this point because to even begin to speak of all that, I believe I need to do a lot more reading, form a solid opinion and then, perhaps, write about my opinion. 

The other book I picked up was Glimpses of Word History. Since this book is already very popular I think that's enough said. The only grouse that I might have with the book at the outset was I wish it had been a slightly easier-to-manage two-volume sort of a book. Its too huge to hold and read when its something to indulge in at leisure. It'd be impossible to carry it while traveling and I am sure it ll fall apart at some point before I am done with it. 

But this post is more of a sort of a thanksgiving. Why you might ask. Where is the thanks? Well, its coming up. Today I am thankful that I have had a sound education, for a sound background, for the inculcation of the beautiful habit of reading, for meeting people who believe in a healthy debate, for the food on my plate, for the roof over my head, for the car I drive and for being able to sing to make a living, for being able to invest in books with a part of my earnings, for being given the chance to expand my knowledge, expand the horizons of thinking and for a lot more. 

And also that I have a laptop, an internet connection oh, and power in Chennai, Tamilnadu to be able to type when the words sprung up in my mind's eye and hit publish as I have done in about 10.8 seconds after finishing this line. (Yup I don't give a once-over of any of the posts I have typed before hitting publish)

Title X2

When I was about 6 or 7, I was famous for being a voracious reader. I finished all the books I could lay my hands, which included all the Tinkles and reading and re-reading the 100 titles of Amar Chitra Katha I had. Some child encyclopaedia, atlases. All that. And Childcraft. I was besotted with it but I didn't own the collection. And I had the habit of glancing through the newspaper and reading Young world. I looked forward to Saturdays for YW. Then one day, I had a brainwave. I decided to go and check the Young world at my neighbour's house. Just to see if the paper at their house had different content than I did. In retrospect, I wonder where I got this bizarre idea that every house will have a newspaper with different content. So I went and asked this aunty next door for the paper. And eagerly checked the paper. Not surprisingly it was exactly like the one in my house. I was supremely disappointed and realized I had to wait for next Saturday after all.

Looking at myself as a child, from a third person's perspective, because, I was a different person then, I was this child with an unbelievably vivid capacities of imagination. I wonder how my mother was patient with me. But then I was a silent child. My world was private. And so were my dreams. 

Anyway I remembered this young world story quite out of the blue. And I also thought the same of Tinkle, because once I saw various different Tinkle issues at the newsstand I got everyone got different ones every month. When I was about 12 I came across a gentleman whose son collected every issue from Tinkle number 1. It was amazing. And I read them all happily and returned them intact.

Today I am captivated by anthropology. I might soon need to find a facility to store my books. Its becoming too much to manage. If only every title were available on Kindle. That would be the day.

Post 'X'

I wrote a long post and realized this didn't get published. Ah well. The words are gone and so are the thoughts.

Conversations and questions

Was part of a conversation, listening, about how some cultures (if not almost all) have been formed by torturing people into submission or attempting (perhaps successfully at times) to vanquish entire peoples.

The film Dasavataram, and particularly the first 12 minutes was mentioned, and on a tangent, how scores of Samanargal were aethi-fied on Kazhuvus just because they refused to give up their religion. This is part of the glorious Tamil culture we are expected to be proud of. I am sure, various other cultures, of various other regions of India have similar stories. While I was an RJ, I got to hear stories of massacres in Srirangam while they defended the Lord that they held dear. Interestingly kings who have been responsible for mass murders such as these have been hailed and glorified. 

What culture should we proud of? A culture and a history which in several parts has not been tolerant or another human being's way of life? A culture that is dynamic, makes new rules at various times and sadly such a crazy culture is still prevalent in this day and ages. Honor killings and this despicable behaviour of untouchability, treating another human being, made of the same flesh and blood as ourselves in such a terrible manner. Denying basic rights. And authorities look the other way. 

I am wondering, what do the people who are in seats of power think of? What are their pressures? Why are they not allowed to bring change? Its not possible that they cannot feel even an iota for the country that they belong to. Love for the motherland, I'd like to believe is something that would automatically pulsate through our nerves. But why is it difficult for ministers to prevent the pollution of the Ganga? How and why where the industries set up on the banks without having the backup to treat effluents? The POSCO plant is perhaps an example that maybe, just maybe, inspite of all the high and mighty signing the papers, there is still hope when people stand up for what is right. How is that the PM is even announcing that 2,900 million litres of sewage is emptied DAILY? Why can't he stop it? To a common civilian and a citizen such as me and you, these will remain mere questions. 

Perhaps like one hears, politicians and ministers are not masters of their own offices. Perhaps someone else makes the decisions for them which they are forced to obey. We, on the other hand, have pretty good lives. We can go about doing relatively simpler activities, live our lives being answerable only to very, very few and finally also leave the world, hopefully, after having lived the life that we had dreamed of. 

But at the end of the day, there is this pang wishing that the wrongs are righted. And things are beautiful once again. And I so wish that the line in the Alchemist comes true especially with regard to my country, first - Wish for something strong enough and the universe conspires to make it happen. 

If someone tells me, all this is mere talk (or blog/tweet) and nothing will happen, I usually adamantly differ. No begging or being polite here. I know, that some day that humans will find humanity. And I so wish it will happen in this life. 

And for everyone's sake I wish all the people are treated equally. Especially in India. Without Prejudice. Without hatred. Someday. And hopefully soon

Tweets and Rumi, Gibran

Hearing the plaintive notes from a piano tiptoe into the stillness of the night,which until then was just interrupted by the slight ruffle of a turning page or the occasional footfall, I happened to be reading some tweets by Mr Bacchan who chose to tweet lines of Kahlil Gibran. Somehow the mix of notes that seemed to float about and the profundity of the words of Gibran had an interesting effect on me. One, the urge to blog, the tax of typing from a relatively cramped interface of a smartphone notwithstanding.
A lot of times mom has said one neednt wear saffron robes to chose the path of spirituality. Meditation can happen while walking, eating, talking and to the evolved soul, even while one is asleep. There is no start and end to the meditative state.

I copy-paste some of Mr Bacchan's tweets today here:
T 710 - " It is hard indeed for anything to be easy Even humans have yet to attain humanity "~ Ghalib
T 710 - " Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven ? "~KG
T 710 - " And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives ?"~KG

While we, in and inspite of everything do worry at least a little about everything that concerns us and the earth and universe as a whole, th latter especially on days a natural calamity threatening to wreak havoc just passed kindly through our lives (a lot more worry about our future than that of the earth, I am sure, for if we all really did worry and take action, we'd be doing a lot more to conserve the water on our earth).

But coming back to Gibran, I loved the lines on the cup and the lute.
How many cups did burn before they could become vessels of wisdom. How many shafts of bamboo have actually withstood the hollowing before it could probably find its own destiny in the hands of a musician.

A little earlier this evening I read Rahman sir tweet Rumi - 'If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?'

And here is when I wondered if one should look at such a 'rub' as a bruise, a laceration and weep over it as a child whose soft skin suffers the abrasion, or think of oneself as the diamond and believe that it is destiny when every hard knock lands on us, until we have realized our true brilliance.

And after reading but a few lines of Gibran and Rumi and the depth or perhaps the infiniteness of their wisdom .... Ah well.

Of studying and more

Like everyone else, during their teens, I used to be glued to MTV and Channel (V). After a point in time, my mom came up to me and said, "Are you going to be watching TV all your life or would you be doing anything constructive that you'll be on TV and that others may watch you?". Though at that time I would have sulked like any other kid that age (I don't remember if I did or not), I know that I would probably say the same to my kids. As for the Television, it has not been switched on in over 8 months at my place and has been reduced to a wall accessory.

Mom told me yesterday that whenever she thought she was going through tougher times, she used to study. And that was the best way to engage the mind in something constructive. Time and again would she give me this reminder of not wasting time unnecessarily on various things as tech advanced. Chatting or SMS. She would say what an awful waste of time SMS/Chat were, the time spent in typing some 20 lines a phrase at a time to convey an idea/thought is at least 10 times more than what we would take in just saying it including the response time from the listener, considering we are not talking of monologues.

In retrospect, I remember that most older members of my family used to keep studying for something or the other. My mom or mom's sibling. Some exam or the other. 

And looks like the genes may have finally caught up with me, albeit late but as they say, Der se aaye par durust aaye.

I am perhaps embarking on similar exercises that I shall undertake, God willing, in studying one thing after another. And let me tell you, studying once you are an adult of reasonable mental capacities is a great experience. Especially when you are doing something just for the heck of it. There is no pressure. You don't have to take an exam. But studying or the collection of some knowledge is actually fun. A friend of mine happened to echo this same thought of mine and sent me a text late in the night "Did I say studying was FUN!!", to which I responded, I tweeted about it a few days ago :)

I'm not sure if I can hazard to make a fleeting statement like reading as a habit is going down or people are less willing to listen, less willing to learn, so on and so forth, but if I belong to this generation that has seen such a quantum changes in the world we see and the world we have grown up in and with, a generation that has enmasse been accused of ADD (attention deficit disorder) or to be kind, lets say short attention spans, I would also say perhaps in a generation that has perhaps seen it all, the beauty of values and ethics is perhaps getting more impressed upon us than it could have for the previous generations. We have seen disintegration of ethics and morals, judgmental attitudes (yes I realize the words before and after the comma is pretty relative, but then, one man's poison is another man's medicine), nothing seems to be sacred really and as much as I perceive or notice it, the wild children I know are shifting focus to what values our grandparents used to have. That said, I wish wisdom and ideas and practices and customs had been explained and passed on to us without shrouding it in cloaks of secrecy and in respect where questioning meant a display of disrespectful attitude and perhaps we have now become the generation where we learn everything for ourselves first hand, without the wealth of ancient wisdom backing us at times when we need it most, and then finally learning our lessons in hindsight.

To you, reading this blog, I'd urge you to study something, take an exam here and there, even if the exam was on, let's say, "How to ice flowers on cupcakes" (I'm sure there is a course on this somewhere, considering the cupcake boom) and if all that is too much, just read. 

Learning and assimilating knowledge is fun.

Teasers of Neethane En Ponvasantham and Eto Velipoyindhi Manasu

10 Years

14 February 2002. The day Kannathil Muthamittaal released. 10 Years of being a playback singer. Despite several hurdles.

Thank you Rahman sir for the god-awesome break. Thank you for your blessings through these years. I have looked upon you as a Guru.

Thank you Mani Ratnam sir for retaining my voice. Grateful that the first ever song I sang were Vairamuthu Sir's lines.

To Mani Sir and Priya V and Dhina Sir for making me sing the title track of Anbulla Snehidiye introducing me to a wide audience before Kannathil Muthamittal released though KMI was recorded first.

OrU Deivam was the best ever break one could ask for in films. It was a prayer answered. A wish fulfilled. A dream come true. Though I guess I recorded the song sometime in December 2000 and subsequently in May 2001, the release is what marks the entry of an artiste in films.

If that break didn't happen nothing else would have followed. At a time when I thought I was going to be written off, I got a second break of sorts with Sahana and for that I am grateful to AR sir and Shankar sir.

To Harris sir for his kindness and for giving me a chance to sing a composition like Varayo that led me to win almost all the awards in 2010.

Raja sir for his kindness in giving me an amazing opportunity to sing in his concert in Italy, at one of the oldest and best opera houses in Modena, though I hadn't sung for him in films at all except the short Engu Pirandhadhu, which incidentally happened after this concert. It was an experience to cherish.

To Paul Jacob, for whom I faced a studio mic for the first time for a jingle.

To S A Rajkumar sir, Dheva sir - who has probably given me the most number of songs in all this while and Srikanth Deva sir, Imman, Ramesh Vinayagam anna, Dhina sir, Selvaganesh ji, Bharadwaj sir, Vidyasagar sir, G V Prakash, Taj Noor, Yuvan Shankar Raja, Bhavatharini, Premgi Amaran, Sathya C, Ghibran, Joshua Sridhar, Fen Viallee, Devi Sri Prasad, Mr. James Vasanthan, M Jayachandran ji, Ouseppachan sir, Mr Samson, Sri Chinna, Sadhu Kokila ji, Mithoon and every composer who has thought of me and allowed me to be the voice of their creation.

I hope I will not be in soup if I have failed to mention a composer's name. If I have, I shall stand corrected and humbly request pardon.

Grateful to the print/TV/Radio media (presenters on TV and radio) for writing/speaking about me.

Grateful to the sound engineers that make me sound good, the musicians who have played for me at various concerts.

Thankful to the artiste coordinators and PROs.

Grateful to Mr Krishna who took the risk and invested the time in giving me the opportunity in dubbing. To Mr Gautham Vasudev Menon thanks to whom I got the first Nandi award for Ye Maaya Chesave and my debut in Telugu and Hindi through YMC and Ek Deewana Tha.

SICADU the dubbing Union and the musicians Union for their understanding and support.

To Neelambari and Rajkumar for working with me and training me to be a TV show host.

C S Amudhan and Aahaa FM for letting me dabble in hosting on radio.

To everyone who was part of a jury that gave me an award. To audience who voted at various times whenever applicable. To the Tamilnadu and Andhra Pradesh State Governments for bestowing me with the honour of the State awards.

To my well wishers and those who like my singing.

My mom. From her I was born. From her I learned to sing. And because of her I continue to exist. No mommy. No Chinmayi. No singer called Chinmayi.

God. For being nice. As for the really trying times, I guess I don't know if I should thank you for those, because I still don't see the point and I don't forgive you for a lot of things. But, I still like you. And hope you like me too.

To you having had the patience to read this, thank you.

From an introverted, quiet girl I have come a long way. I have existed as a playback singer because of the kindness of all the composers and directors.

Otherwise, I guess I will continue to keep evolving, learning and improving. With the knowledge and confidence that my mother will guide me through the rights and wrongs and God will stand by us.

I am not sure how many more months/years I will continue to get opportunities as a playback singer, in this day and age and I am grateful for every single day, every single opportunity.

Thank you.

Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavantu.

School....

I happened to catch up with a few of my school-friends over dinner. More often than not, when I am probably given a notice of say, a week or 10 days, for such a rendezvous, I usually don't make it. But this was fixed in a 2 hour notice and thankfully I wasn't expected to be at some studio yesterday and finally made it to probably one of the nicest evenings I have had. 

Talking of school, my best times were at Hindu Senior, Indira Nagar. Our Principal then, Mr V Venkatachalam, IMO was super dynamic, let us be what we wanted to be. He would allow one of my classmates to come 3 hours late to school because he was training to be a tennis player. I can't think of any other school that would allow that. He let me go to an All India level competition with barely a couple of weeks left to go for the board exam. I came first in that thankfully but I appreciate his vision even more now. 

Somehow, the best memories are of school for me. Maybe it is true for a lot of people. I remember one of our classmates was really good at imitating teachers and hence when my Physics teacher, Swarna ma'am came to know of it she asked him to come forward and perform, for the benefit of the entire class and herself. We were initially scared but it was even more fun when our teacher joined in and laughed when she saw her student imitate her. 

Last night we spoke of a whole lot of things, school, classes, the super performers, sports day and PE teachers, throwball teams A and B, who was brilliant, who broke fingers and throw ball was the one sport I was actively involved in school. And the HSSS hosted the SDK Throwball cup and somehow Hindu won each year coz we were the best. Quite proud of this. :D I have romanced the idea of some sort of a throw ball match reunion but God knows if that will ever happen. The throw ball matches were fun for the boys in school basically because they got to see entertaining games between girls of various schools who would land up in our playground. And we perhaps had one of the biggest playgrounds then. I hear the ground isn't there anymore and I can't bear to go back and see it. 

We had a basketball court and a superb gallery. And, every Friday it would be the responsibility of some class/section to decorate the Ganesh temple in our premises. Kolam and Sundal, Bhajan and the entire post noon session off :)

Probably at that age, we would split hair about who got more marks or who performed better in some sport. But looking back, for me, it was a beautiful phase in my life. And as my classmate told me, we were all friends with each other in the purest form. No ulterior motives. She said by the time we are in college the friendships that forge there are very different from the ones forged at school. 

Over the dinner table, watching my friends talk of career, family, parenthood, school, college, home, cleaning, gardening I wondered how and when time flew. It seemed like yesterday that we were in eighth standard. Staircases and corridors, blackboards and chalk pieces, question papers and answer sheets and the red numerators and denominators within a circle. 

Looking out of the window before I type this line, I don't wish to go back to that time. It has served its purpose.

There will always be a part of me that is frozen in that 8th standard. An age of innocence, simple joys and simple sadnesses, simple challenges and simple solutions. No matter how grown-up and adult the society expects me to be. The child in me is forever alive and kicking.

Perhaps at the end of the journey of living as Chinmayi I hope to figure out the reason behind it all. And I hope it would end with a relaxed smile.