Destiny

I treated self, getting scared to death watching Final destination Part IV movie last week. The entire four parts, target on one ironic concept – “One can never cheat death”. Of course the execution to remind the reality is no Cinderella story. If part I turn your stomach upside down on every flight take off, part II leaves no stone unturned to disturb your peace while driving through motorways. Well, part III and IV does not bother me much as I am not a great fan of either roller coaster or motor races. However, the method in which death hunts people back who escaped these gruesome accidents, try to create phobia in weaker minds for crossing roads, swimming, cooking, DIY and even watching movies in cinema; almost every day to day activity in life is projected dangerous. Contempt of death is taken seriously by nature in these movies. Optimistically speaking, they highlight how careless we could get in routine life.

Everybody knows what their final destination is. Its just we do not know when, how and where. So, let’s move out of this uncomfortable domain to a less creepy subject – “Destiny”. What is destiny and how many of us believe in one? It’s complicated to define destiny which has diverse interpretations. One such interpretation is “the unexpected outcome of effort, put towards a set target”. When I was in school I set target to become a doctor and did work towards the goal. The unexpected outcome – here is one software professional pouring her heart in web logs. Some may say that I am destined to become what I am today. Should we say that a guy who started his career as a surveyor went on to become the first president of United States - a destiny? Or should we also conclude that a young lad who started his career as a newspaper vendor went to become an aeronautical engineer and eventually the eleventh president of India - a destiny? I am not sure how Geroge Washington and Abdul Kalam would respond for that. Chortle, may be?

Another interpretation of destiny is “The outcome of something one does not have any control of”. Fine examples are - birth and death. Do we have an option to choose to who we are to be born? Most of the times we do not have the opportunity to choose on whose arms we are to exhale our last breathe. (Let’s leave suicides alone)

In olden days even marriage and career were considered to be in destiny’s hand. Eventually, people started empowering selves to write their own. Almost every human being is now free to choose their life partners, do the job they wish and live the way they want. One of the key developments is Women Empowerment. Gone by those days where women were considered only to fit into the homemaker frame. 21^st century women efficiently cruise their ways from modelling ramps, to corporate chairs, to high tech NASA satellite launches to tennis lawn courts. Who better than Oprah Winfrey can vouch on women empowerment? Said to be hailed from an abusive family today she is one of the world’s wealthiest, successful and influential woman. They may have started with a different goal and may have ended something else in life. Yet, the bottom line here is, they succeed. In modern world every individual reckons they are destined to succeed in life.

Destiny, Luck, Fate all form just a negligible percentage in life. Rest is in our hands. We can make the difference if we put our hearts, brain and hard-work towards what we want.

Copyright © Sivi 30-Sep-2009

You know my name - Short Story

“Maasi” mom screamed at the moment I entered home.

“Ranjith’s mom said that you had detention again at school today. You are no more taking seat in last bench row. I am meeting Madam Francis tomorrow to discuss that. Are you listening?” She continued.

“Let him get fresh first. Leave him alone for sometime. He looks tired” Dad came to my rescue.

“Your pamper ruins him. Look at him. Does it seem like he is straight from school? I am sure he was playing around in school ground dodging his Mam’s detention” Mom was in no mood to back off.

Unwilling to stop any further, I reached my room, shut the door and headed straight to bath room respecting nature’s call. “WHAT A RELIEF!” I thought.

“We named him after my Dad only to spoil that great man’s reputation” my mom went on and on and on. My dad had very recently acquired PhD in lending deaf ears to my mom’s yelling and it worked big time.

After relaxing a good 15 minutes under hot shower, I dressed up and switched on my PC. Browsing through the folders I eyed my favourite song “You know my name” by Chris cornell, sound track from Casino Royale. I kicked on the song using media player in repeat mode. Leaning on the wall next to my bed, I looked back at the boulders of odds in the life of a 12 year old boy like me; both inside and outside the school.

Cornell started in a mesmerizing tone

“If you take a life

Do you know what you'll give?

Odds are you won't like What it Is.”

Early this evening caught for making a prank during math hours, Prema Mam doused me into the world of imposition, after school, for one and a half hours. With hurting knuckles I walked through the corridor towards my classroom. On the way, office boy Munna warned me of the impending evening darkness and gate close timings. Having no intension to spend any more time at school, I ignored the sense to pee, ran into my class, picked my school bag, and walked towards the main gate.

As predicted by Munna, it was close to darkness outside. Home being in a distance of 10 minutes walk from school, with no fear I cruised through the main road enjoying the buzz. All I had to do was take the third right (Brindavan street), followed by first left (1st cross street) and couple more small streets to reach home. Engrossed in the impeccable silence in 1st Cross Street I initially failed to notice the danger waiting for me in short distance. After few steps I spotted that black dog having brown eyes, mouth wide open with tongue hanging down having pals surrounded. I recognized him. It was him, the same him in the same street.

“Maasi. Dinner is ready” Mom’s voice jerked me and my thoughts simultaneously.

Cornell continued in poignant voice

“I've seen angels fall from blinding heights

But you yourself are nothing so divine

Just next in line”

Knowing that more alerts are in pipeline from mom, without any response I let black and white concentric circle swirl before my eyes. Flashback! Circa 10 days ago:

“Maasi, pick that stone in your hand” Sundar ordered in a scream

Obeying immediately to his command I picked not one but two stones and ran towards him and Ranjith asking “done, but why?”

“Throw, throw on them. They are running” Ranjith, the aspiring army officer ran after chasing the dogs. Sundar and I being obedient soldiers showered the dogs with stone bombs. Little did I know then “What goes around comes around”

“King Maasi. Do you want dinner in your room?” Mom’s sarcastic voice pierced my ears again. “Coming. 2 minutes” I shouted my attendance.

“Arm yourself because no one else here will save you

The odds will betray you

And I will replace you”

The warning in Cornell’s voice made me plunge back again into the thoughts of what happened in 1st cross street.

“Grrrrrrrr” the dog positioned right in front of me

I stood motionless, helpless confronting the worst foes in the dark street with flickering street lights. I slightly turned my head to have glimpse of any human movement on the street. There were none.

“May be they were all watching TV” I wondered.

Cornell echoed

“It longs to kill you

Are you willing to die? 

I looked down expecting to find some stones for self-defense. There were some just in front of the dog and all of a sudden I realized that both he and I were looking at the same spot. The dog took the first step towards me reading my thoughts, with vengeance. With shivering legs, racy heart and blank mind all I had to do was cry. Fighting through the tears, still lacking any movement I overcame the intimidation posed by my enemy, with some serious haggling with GOD and cursing Sundar and Ranjith. The only logical solution I could think then was running back to the main road flooded with human folks. Picking all my strength, shunning the school bag weighing more than 2kgs on the street, I started to run back like Ben Johnson. The realization of running for life helped me hold my breath and muster all my energy in-spite of facing a tired day at school. The dogs closing on me in high speed bothered more than achy legs and struggle in my breath. Just in right time I touched the main road, but tripped on a rock and fell to my face. People on road took no time to understand what was happening and tried to hunt down the dogs away from me. With a fusion of anger, anguish, tears and frustration I picked some stones and threw back at the dogs even though they were out of vicinity. Few people consoled me, took me back to the street and helped me find my bag. Couple of them escorted me till few steps away from home. All the way, to my irritation, I was advised not to run on seeing dogs and at the same time, to my amusement I was commended for my presence of mind and bravery.

Cornell rocked in high pitch now

“The coldest blood runs through my veins

You know my name”

“I was a daredevil” I praised myself. “And no one messes up with me, with Maasi”

“Maasi, are you coming out or shall I come in” mom’s threatening voice suggested that it was my last chance to deem some respect. I waited for the song to end.

Cornell raised his voice to conclude

“You Know My Name

You Know My Name

You Know My Name”

I stood up with force, facing the full-size mirror with fingers pointing like gun, swirled twice and dialogued “I am Mani. MaasilaMani”

I turned off media player and left the room hopping with glee dreaming one day to become JAMES BOND.

Confused Recipes

Not all, but some of us are confused recipes. Aren’t we? Who are we?

Born in mother country brewed in her heritage, nurtured by her culture and brought up with her people for years and years, we sometimes take solace in the arms of surrogate mother country who promises advanced lifestyle, high value currency and pledging a healthy career. Enthusiastically, we wave “Bye Bye” assuring our mother country to return back in no time, failing to notice a sarcastic, plaintive yet proud moment in her. The fairy tale begins with, by commanding a sudden respect among our not so kin, friends and family, breathing rejuvenated life in the new found shelter and dousing self in new mom’s culture. Striving to be-friend her children, we try and become one of them and as first measure some of us emulate their accent. Not to mention, varied reasons given for the new emerging style; “It’s easy for them to understand me than before” “It changes automatically you know”.  People know they harbour the real reasons in devil’s workshop.

We are very proficient in setting and shaking our own promises.  Some of us assure our mother land to return home within stipulated “number” of years and then realising her inability to haggle, clever people gradually increase the numbers and eventually use subjective adjectives  like “few” instead of numbers. Here, people do not understand what they want from life, however, know what not to loose and refuse to be vocal about it. As years go by, completely accustomed to the lavishness thrown by new found mother land, we face the ultimate reality check with an opportunity to settle with her deserting the home country. Here we start using phrases like “World is our oyster”, “Its all for the kids”. We give ourselves written to comfort and currency and this is where hypocrisy takes a back seat and truth surfaces.

Shunning our own land completely to embrace the new one for lifetime, invokes a sense of rush, a sense of panic. People once prepared to do anything to mingle with new community, now suddenly feel lost in the middle of the same crowd. Craving to reach back to the roots some emerge forming groups of similar individuals psychologically in sync. People in group begin enjoying regional celebrations together (which in the past they may have preferred valuing it in private). We secretly or candidly extend support to our home country in sports when they compete against our current living land and here we become the perfect ingredient of a confused recipe.

Fine. The million dollar question now is should we go through this painful transition? The answer is – YES why not? There is nothing wrong in going through the transition, but it is not necessary to be made painful. On the other hand, I do not endorse people forgetting heredity and continue acting alien just like they started in the first place. I strongly believe that we can strike a fine balance between what we were born and brought up and what we have become today. People can overcome the insecurities and confront life with immense confidence by being level-headed. I adore people who have clarity in vision about their future, cruise through it successfully, with no regrets whatsoever and preserving their self identity. It’s all gettting cosmopolitan and it’s high time to kill hypocrisy and embrace reality. A wise man once told me “Few papers are not going to decide who we are”.  Let us all be honest to self, and others. Never feel embarrassed in the decisions made by you and do not take decisions which will make you feel guilty.

Copyright © Sivi 14-Sep-2009

Being Vegetarian ...

Vegetarians evolve, either by ones self choice or by brought up. Started in the latter category and moved to become one by choice, clueless of how the taste of being a meat-eater is, I take every pride in not being part of petty murders committed on chickens and ducks to entertain human taste buds. The version of vegetarianism I follow, comprise of vegetables and all diary products. Anything starting from egg till pork is exempted from my list. Few people term this list as something in-between Vegan and Vegetarian.

Never ending debates among friends between consuming leaves and ripping the garnished flesh on a dinning table, always conclude in favour of people who rip the flesh! I wonder whether it’s due to the dominating head counts or logical arguments. Amusingly one reality always surface in such combative occasions.

Hearsay - The Sixth element of nature

I SIVI declare that Space, Earth, Wind, Water, Fire and Hearsay or should we pronounce Gossip, as six elements of Mother Nature.

Why did Gossip make to this coveted list? – Because of its indefinite roots; Because of its undeniable presence; Because of the glee it spreads; Because of its perishable nature. Gossip originated when mankind learnt to talk, first about self and gradually about others. Thesaurus synonyms gossip as rumour or hearsay but here we define it as the mere absence of “minding ones own business”.

To my astonishment, few decades ago, there was a world respecting fellow human emotions. Or was it just the absence of technical advancement made me believe the presence of ethics and morals among our predecessors?

Circa 50 years before, I am sure, the NEWS in Television channels reported only about Political / Financial developments in the world and ofcourse Sports, Arts and Weather. There were handful of celebrities, leading an iconic life realising the responsibilities that comes with the Celebrity tag. Today, if 100 people know you, you are a celebrity.
Gossip sells in this decade. The fine line between NEWS and GOSSIP is forgotten. There are programs in satellite television channels dedicated to reveal the world’s greatest discovery of “Who is doing whom?” “Where did she buy that bikini?” “Who is sleeping with 2 women at same time?” “Cat fights and Cock fights”. Technology explosion facilitated dedicated internet websites, blogs and forums to brag on the happenings, in “so-called” Celebs life. The New Gen Celebs, loosing the plot thoroughly, are waging huge competitions to hog the limelight by making mockery of their own personal lives in the name of reality shows. They hook-up; they break-up; they attend a tear-jerking interview on prestigious chat show(s); they move on and hook-up again. They endorse hanging plank outside their home reading “Privacy is for loosers”.

Rain water in its purest form seizes the characteristic of the place where it falls; it can be a salty sea or a nasty gutter. Gossip is almost similar except for the fact that it never arrives in a purest form. Its outcome is something similar to the game “Passing the Secret”. In good-old school days we all used to sit in a circle and one of us initiate a secret and pass it to the person nearby, in her/his ear, just ones. The passing would continue till it reaches the last person, who on receiving the message would announce to the whole group. The fun in most occasions was, there will be negligible resemblance between the secret initiated and the secret told out finally. I once remember initiating a secret “She sells sea shells on the sea shore” and got it back as “Seychelles in soar”. Most of the rumours take the same route. It’s like amoeba; takes varied shape translating to others in the method of ones perception. So what’s the outcome of such unverified information heard and received? What's the outcome of new gen celebs seeking attention by allowing us visit their private lives? Well, we did witness some pathetic private moments going public, but unfortunately they made good business. We did notice unauthentic information wreck and shake some private lives.

What are we trying to conclude here? Do never talk about others and behave saints? No. That’s against the force of nature. It is always nice to know couple of news away from your life. But that’s not a lifestyle. Hearsay; lets not go to the extent of hurting others emotions, let’s not pry. Anything in a right dose is always a pleasure. I now leave you guys here, signing-off, to check how Jennifer Aniston looks hott even at 40 !!

Copyright © Sivi 01-Sep-2009