A teacher, a friend, a philosopher, a guide: Ties that bind forever - II

I still remember vividly my first day in school after the summer vacation of 2002. I joined a bit late because of a knee-surgery. A new teacher had joined our school to teach us English. Since I joined a bit late, I had missed the guidelines she had given earlier on ‘précis writing’.  So, when she came to our class that day and gave us an assignment on ‘précis writing’, I had no idea that I would be bombarded that day. I used to be a fairly good student and used to score the highest marks in English and I was totally unaware of what was going to befall.

I was sitting on the first row that day. After about fifteen minutes or so, she came and stood in front of me. After staring at my notebook for a few seconds she burst. “What are you doing?” These are the exact words that came from her. I was taken aback. When I regained my composure, I did what I usually do i.e. defend myself; the only difficulty here was that I had no idea what I was defending. With each moment she was getting angrier and I was getting more uncomfortable. It was difficult for me to stand up due to the surgery but somehow I tried to pull myself up, when somebody came to my rescue and told the teacher that it was my first day in school after the knee surgery. Thankfully, she calmed down and asked me to sit and then she explained me how to write a précis.

Well, frankly speaking it left a very bad taste in my mouth. Here is a confession to make. I did not like my English teacher much during the first couple of weeks or so. I tried hard to trade places with those who used to sit at the back for the English slot. I was very scared of being humiliated for studies. And since I did not know what else I had missed out when I was on leave I thought it best to hide. The first few pages of my English notebook were pathetic.

However, with time I came into the mainstream and I started fairing well. I stopped being scared and sooner than I had expected I found out that my English teacher was more humane than I thought she was. She encouraged me a lot in everything I did. She patiently read my poems and heard me out. She was and still is more than a teacher. I don’t know exactly how but slowly she became one of the best teachers I have ever known. All I can say is that she has a quality – a unique quality to see the good in her students and encourage them to use that goodness. And when I say ‘goodness’ it is not just in studies, it is the goodness in the person.

Very few people get to meet such wonderful people in their lives and I am truly blessed to be one of them. Today is her birthday and I wrote this down so that I can tell her how much she means to me and how important and influential she has been in shaping me into what I am today. Thank you, Madam. Thank you for being my teacher, my friend, my philosopher and my guide. Wish you many happy returns of this day. Happy Birthday. God bless you.

This is for you, Mousumi Madam.

THE POWER OF DREAMS

It is indeed surprising how few people actually have dreams and still fewer actually chase their dreams. There are two kinds of people: One who have dreams and the other who do not have dreams. Rather, the second category have what I say, a twisted reflection of dreams. Those who have dreams know what it means to be free, liberated. Those who don’t have dreams live with the illusion that they are free.

In fact, everyone has the power to dream and the power to follow their dreams. Yet sadly, people prefer following the mirage – the twisted reflection of dream. In this modern world people run after money thinking that’s their dream. People do not realize that money is just a means, and many a times it is not, to the real dreams that have become hazy. That’s perhaps the reason why people have much, yet not enough. People become so busy chasing the mirage that they do not recognise the oasis anymore. The ‘means’ has become an endless ‘end’.

There are another two categories of people: One who are unaware of their dreams and the other who are aware that category one people are unaware of their dreams. What a mess! It is the second category that usually exploits the former in the guise of letting them fulfil their dreams.

What do people dream for? Is it a penthouse with a swimming pool; a farmhouse with a stable full of horses; gold; diamonds; luxury; and an endless list of things that money can buy? Or, is it happiness, love, friends, home, family... that money cannot buy?

Think for a while, what would be your perfect day.

Earlier I used to think that my perfect day would be in an exotic island with someone I love. We would enjoy water sports, have candle light dinner, lie under the morning sun for hours...

With time I realised that it is easier to get that then the joy of spending time with the people you love most. As time has gone by, I can’t say I have become wiser but I can surely say that I know what my dream is: To have a perfect day each day. And now my perfect day is not about an exotic vacation.

My perfect day is being with my family; having meals together and talking about everyday things like friends; sharing my thoughts and secrets with them; sharing smiles and tears; being able to hug them and tell them how much I love them and need them in my life each day; trying to put together the pieces of a big happy family that money and possessions have torn apart.

And my prayer each day is: Lord, teach me to love and respect what I have and teach me to crave for worldly possessions lesser and lesser that I may not lose what I have.

This is my dream. What about yours?

MY SISTER, MY FRIEND: Ties that bind forever – I

I don’t remember much about we sisters did when we were kids. I have vague memories of our little adventures and many a times when I reminisce about the happy and sad times we have shared, I feel deeply nostalgic and I want to go back to the days gone by and let no sorrow touch my little sister. When my little sister was born I was slightly resentful. It wasn’t like most of the happy stories told when kids await the arrival of their younger siblings like the arrival of a new toy. At first it was happy anticipation. I was eagerly waiting for the little angel of the family. I was waiting to play with the tiny fingers and toes and feel them curled around mine. I was waiting for the twinkling eyes and cute toothless smiles that the baby would flash on me. But when the little angel finally arrived, my happy anticipation was turned to bitter resentment. In fact, it was jealousy. All on a sudden, I found that I was no longer the centre of attraction. All eyes rested on the little baby that never left my mother’s side. And toughest of all was we were not allowed to play with the baby. Everyone thought we might infect the baby. The baby needed sleep and it slept throughout the day. We could only look at her and she looked back at us with her twinkling eyes and occasionally she would flash her cute little toothless smile. Occasionally, when I would find her all alone, I would pinch her and make her cry to soothe my resentment and take revenge from her for taking my place and all the attention I received before her arrival.

But one day while I was trying to hurt her, she looked at me with her beady eyes sparkling like glass and she opened and closed her mouth, like a fish out of water, trying to say something. And as if from nowhere but somewhere special and pure, my heart was filled with love for her. I felt that she wanted to tell me that she needed me in her life and wanted me to be there for her always. I felt important and big. I felt I have to take care of her no matter what happened. I realised that she is my sister, my friend... then... now... forever...

And I know that many a times I have failed her, ignored her, hurt her... but I have done all these in ignorance and only I know how I regret the many times when I could have been a better sister but I was not. And all that I can do now is to make up for the times gone by and love and care for her so much that all my shortcomings would be forgotten.

If you are reading this my dear little sister, all I want to say is that I am sorry for all the times I have hurt you and I love you a lot. You are my sister, my friend... my best friend ever and forever.

P.S.: The image is a painting by William Adolphe Bouguereau, Two Sisters

Keep looking up this blog for more...

Ladakh Memoirs - Chapter 2

As I tugged into the layers of blankets and quilts covering me, the morning brightness touched my face and I felt a numbing pain run down my knee at the thought of the trek that lay ahead. At first I said, “No, I won’t come” but the very thought of staying back in the guest house and missing all the fun was a bigger pain and I readied myself for the most adventurous trek I have ever had. Leh is situated at a height of about 13,500 feet above sea level which means thinner atmosphere and as we walked through the mountainous terrain, the cold breeze hit at our face and threatened to freeze the lungs as we breathed.

As we walked on and on, the roads grew rougher and more difficult. But above everything, the beauty that lay around us became more charming and pleasant to the eyes. Wherever the eyes took us, there were mountains and from whichever direction the breeze blew, it was colder and more menacing than the previous one.

Walking through the road that had been taken a million times before wouldn’t have been such fun as it was when we walked through the road less taken or may be road not taken. The beautiful Shanti Stupa beckoned us to set foot on its holy grounds and we started climbing the hill to reach the tip of it, i.e. Shanti Stupa. Hardly, had we walked for fifteen minutes than we started puffing. We realized that the hill was a bit too steep and there were too many loose pebbles. But when we turned to see if it was possible to return and then take the road most taken, we were daunted by the mere sight of the distance we had already covered and so our journey ahead began – huffing and puffing, sitting down at whatever big rock came our way, having a drought, removing our sweaters and then putting it on again, falling and rising again, standing like a statue in one place when pebbles would start rolling down carrying us with them, trying to help each other but then finding oneself in a still tighter spot.

Somehow, with a lot of help from our trekking guide, we reached the Stupa and we were appalled by its breathtaking serenity and reposeful ambience. We felt thankful that we were off-season tourists because the place wouldn’t have been too quiet and just for us. After a short stay in the lap of the stupa, we resumed our trek, again tumbling and getting strengthened.

It was a long trek and I am so glad that I was amongst the three (Me, Arun and Karthikeyan) who actually completed the trek. Because, if I hadn’t I would have missed so many beautiful things. We passed by differently sized chortans and the huge gallery like place where the local festivals are organized. We passed by a stream and through the fields. We walked through narrow passage ways between rocky hills and believe me, it was terrific. And it was tiring too.

By the time, we were done with the trek and we were back on the metalled road walking back to ALIMJAN, we were hoping desperately to get a lift back to the guest house. The entire landscape was deserted and so we trudged along our tired feet and bodies. However, after a long while, we got a lift and we drove up to Gezmo for a hot cuppa. And that was the end of the trek... finally.

Ladakh Memoirs - Chapter 1

Never before had I experienced that kind of thrill at looking at the clouds take so many forms. The clouds were like the minds’ eye taking up the form of huge snow-capped mountains or endless stretches of the desert and whatever you could imagine. I know it was all due to the three month wait that seemed never-ending for the trip to Ladakh. Even Taj Mahal did not appear beautiful enough when it stood on the way to the pristine mountains and eye-catching landscapes of Ladakh. The wait at the Indira Gandhi International Airport felt so restless and the tug that the snow gave at the heart felt so strong that I could not even feel the tiredness due to over 24 hours of journey from Chennai to New Delhi and the half day stay at the scorching heat of Agra. And then it was me, my window seat in the Airbus and my thoughts about the one week stay at Ladakh. For the first time, it gave me the feeling that I was flying away from all worries and cares of this world and no one could stop me. It felt like I belonged to the fantasy world and reality was alien to me. And when the snow-capped summits came into view, the thrill overflowed. If the eye were a camera, it would keep clicking because the next view was always better and more beautiful than the previous one. I sat there too scared even to blink my eye lest I missed something special, something unique and believe it or not I don’t regret the tautness I felt because the relief at finally landing and setting foot at the Ladakh soil was a reward in itself.

The moment I came out of the plane, I was welcomed by a strong gust of cold breeze and serenity all around. The silence felt like a melody and the sun felt balmy on the face. It was slightly daunting at first but slowly it felt good to be away from the normal daily life and I just knew I would love the stay.

We were escorted to the Alim Jaan Guest house, a cosy and homely place with a spectacular view of the mountains through the windows and nice people to attend to us. Just a look at the place and I knew it would be our haven for the rest of the week and we would long for its warmth after each day’s adventure. For the first time, after we boarded the Tamilnadu Express on the 2^nd of April, I felt I am home and the advice to take rest for the rest of the day by our tour guide was the most welcome one. At first I thought that the excitement and the thrill of having reached Ladakh after three months wait won’t let me sleep but I was mistaken because no sooner did my head hit the pillow than I drifted into a dreamless, soothing sojourn into the world of nihility.

Evening had a pleasant surprise awaiting us when we realized that we would require more warm clothing as temperatures plummeted to -6° Celsius. We thought of exploring the small town of Leh and went shopping for gloves, scarves and sweaters. However, our shopping got extended to a sightseeing venture as we climbed the Leh Palace. Tired and fatigued by the uphill climb we took a short repose at Gezmo Restaurant. As I write the account of my stay in Ladakh, I feel it would be unfair if I don’t speak about Gezmo. It was a quiet and small place run by a couple of teenage boys and most of the times we found it empty. It was the ideal place to relax with the most amazing hot cup of Cafe Latté and different varieties of cookies and cakes. If you happen to visit the restaurant in the evening, you get an additional bonus of listening to Backstreet Boys. Gezmo became the most sought after coffee stop while we were in Ladakh.

Love is illiterate...

Someone wrote on the door of the heart


“Please, do not enter.””

Love came smiling and said,

“Sorry, I am illiterate.”

It entered into the most hardened of hearts

Smiled sweetly and said, “I love you”.

It was shouted down with a string of abuses

Yet it kept smiling and said,

“Wow, I never heard any of these before. But surely, it seems you love me so much.

I just used three words and you kept going on and on.”

Irritated and flushed red, the hardened heart managed a smile and said,

“It’s not love. I was abusing you.”

Love became excited and jumping up and down said something one could never imagine,

“So you are blushing now and smiling back and say it isn’t love.”

Fuming with rage, the hardened heart caught hold of love.

But before it could say anything, Love chirped in,

“O’ so now you are holding me and I know you’ll never let me go.”

Christmas Quiz for Christmas gifts

Christmas is a fun time and celebration, carols; festivity is in the air everywhere!!!


As every year, I plan to play a bit of Santa and give something to 5 people. It’s becoming increasingly difficult for me select people, so here is a small quiz.

Please take this quiz and send in your entries to puzzles_4m_amy@yahoo.com by the end of the year.

Do not forget to give your address and contact details.

If you are lucky you may get something out of my Christmas stocking.

All the best!!!

1) Jesus was born in the year ……………

2) Where does Santa live?

   a. Arctic

  b. Antarctica

  c. North Pole

  d. South Pole

3) Three gifts that the Magi brought for Jesus were …………………………………..

4) The king who wanted to kill Jesus when He was born was ………………………………….

5) The original version of the track “Jingle bell rock” in the movie “Mean girls” was by the singer ……………….

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you...