Nightmarish Sundays

A Sunday, is some thing special for those who stay with family and for those who are alone it is often a nightmare. Being a bachlor staying in Delhi (Dilli is not so dil-lee), I had numberless Nightmarish Sundays during the last seven years.

One way to overcome these Nightmarish Sundays is to dip ourselves in official work on holidays too! Preparing for Monday's work through reading or refering Internet is the other way. But there is a limit. After that, you feel, even writing, as a job, as a mechnical excercise, which adds no thrill to life.

Going to freinds, at this stage (or age) is too difficult. Becasue, it will well be an intrusion into the small paradises created by married friends. Of course, there are exceptions as well!! I have a freind who prefers to roam around with friends on Sundays (not girl friends), rather than romancing with wife!!

But in most of the cases, marriage become the last bell for freindship with unmarried friends!!!

In this regard, once Com. Sunit Chopra, writer and trade union leader, suggested that we have to form a Commune of Keralite bachlors in this area. The Keralite families in the area (Janpath where I used to stay) should also be a part of the commune to ensure that bachlers are getting the warmth of family.

We did manage to form (not formally) a commune as well!! We named it 'Primitive Commune'

We had several 'bachlor' and 'bachlor in effect' friends in that commune. We, the commue-ists used to eat, chat and sing together often - preferably Sundays, then!!

But off late, many bachlors officially got married and several others left the commune due to some other reasons!! And our 'Primitive Commune' was desolved naturally.

Looking back, I found it was a wonderful example of overcoming bachlors' nightmare. Recently I shared the idea with one of my Grhastha (married) friends as well. His answer was quite surprising for me..he told me that "some thing like 'Primitive Commune' is very much needed, because I would like to over come the Nightmarish Sundays of my family life"!!!!!

I was looking towards overcoming bachler's nightmare!!! and he..."a married man's nightmare.' Later many of my Grhastha (married) freinds shared the nightmare with me.

So friends, in case if any one thinks that marraige will be the end of Bachlors' Sunday Nightmare, then you are wrong. It is the beginning of totally different Sunday Nightmares.

So be prepared!!!!!!!!!!

Foot Note: We are about to revive the 'Primitive Commune' . Bachlors & especially Grhasthas welcome!!!!!!

A song from the past....

Songs, some times even a single line, many times a word from a song invoke a lot of memories in you. The lighter moments of life, the fragrance friendship, the colours of affection, pains, tears…..many many things flows from the past whenever you hear some songs.

I have one such memory. I have a song which brings some of the good moments of life back to me. You might also have heard the song..it is…..Huzur is kadar tumna itrake chaliye……….Khula aam aachal na lehrake chaliye…

I had a colleague, about three year before. She was very fond of music, art and fashion?

Being a national organization normally we had busy schedules almost all days. But in the evenings, before leaving the office we – we were four at that time - used to stay for some time to analyse what has achieved and what not during the day.

We used to discuss about many things which are beyond our official tasks such as the society, contemporary issues and of course about music during the evenings. She used to recite ……..Huzur is kadar tumna itrake chaliye……….Khula aam aachal na lehrake chaliye….often.

I also had a tendency of humming, sometimes singing the song during the small gaps between our regular works, some times a line or two, that’s it. But my friend had never allowed me to sing it beyond a line!!!!

She used to say that my sound is terrible….in her own words mine is “besura aavaz”!!!!

Her strong but affectionate “Jay please stop it” echoes in by ears whenever I hear ……..Huzur is kadar tumna itrake chaliye……….Khula aam aachal na lehrake chaliye….often.
!!!

The...rain

Rain wakes mixed feelings in me. Because, as a Keralite, my rain memories are very very rich. Some times, rather most of the times, the feelings are just beyond words!!

One pleasant memory of rain is of Francis, whom we friends most often call Panchi. This rain story goes back to my school days at Edappally, then a village like part of the Kochi city.
Myself and Panchi were studying in class five. The school was just reopened in June after vacations amid heavy rains.

In the morning I was eaagerly waiting for Panchi. Because we had many monsoon-entertainments like rain walking, boating (in the near by pond) etc...

It was almost ten 'o' clock and going to be the bell to begin another year (as I saw peon coming with a hammer to ring, rather beat the bell).

I saw Panchi coming by daring the heavy rains, no umbrella not even no school bag. He looked as if he was swimming in school dress.

Being a government school there were many friends who belong poor families and did not have a bag, umbrella or uniform! But Panchi was from a economically well off family.

In the afternoon, I could find the reason for Panchi's 'poor avtar.' His younger sister was in hospital. His mother had to attend his sister and was not at home. I suprised to hear it as the reason for him to come drowning in rain, without bag and lunch?!

He had two elder sisters, brother and relatives staying nearby only! It was revealation for me. The sudden temporary absense of his mother made him totally chaotic. Because he was under her caring shadow till that date.

And many days later I noticed he started coming smart again. Later I came to know that his sister got relieved and his mother is back at home.

Is it a rain story? Ya, it is story happend in a rainy June...I can still see Panchi ..coming ..as if he had a dip in the near by pond!!!

Julias.....I wish you peace

It was a rainy evening..almost eight years ago..I had been working, at that time with a content developer at Rohini, West Delhi in his office cum residence. I used to change bus at Wazirpur to Munirka..my nest then.

It was the post metro era!!

Once in an almost empty DTC bus in which I happily steped in from Wazirpur..I found a drinker...almost 55 years old staring at me. After taking his tickets he came to me and stared a bit before sitting besides me in the same seat.

Sooner..he asked me whether I belong to Kerala..on hearing my "yes," I saw his boozer-cheek turing pleasent ..he told me that he is also from Kerala..!!!it was quite surprising for me...He hardly looked like a 'Madrasi' (@ Dilli all beyond Nagpur are Madrasies..although now it is better).

To my more surprise he told me that he is from the same city where I born, brought up and dreamed - Kochi!!

He picked small pieces of memory to make me convinced that he is from Kochi!! He is a Kochi wala for name-sake..because he was forced to leave the city at the tender age of 10 after his mother's death and his father's re-marraige. His step mother used to beat him a lot.

The journey for the next 30 minutes where so touching that he told me that he now loves his father whom he once hated for re-marrying. With tears in in his eyes, he told me that "I returned once to Kerala but my father was no more then. I came back to Delhi by painfully seeing my stepmother residing in our house with her second husband and children."

You should have kick them out I said. He laughed a bit... "I was not just there for a piece of land." He never fought for that.

"Now my son is doing his small business and settled..my daughter was married off last year" he told me. But now I am alone as my wife who is a Delhite passed away..last month.

I am now alone in the city which gave me "life, ....thikhana." He cried to me beta "Main Keral vapas jana chahta hoon. Mujh ko vahaan ke mitti main marna hain."

I asked him why did you wish to leave the city where you built up your life, where your children live and your wife rests? The answer was silence..I could hear him mincing for words.."main..main kya jawab dedoom beta"

I remember I asked the same question to my uncle when he, who built up his own successful life in Mumbai, decided to come back after he turned 65. He answered, "the soil in which we born has some thing...which we can not find elsewhere".

But my uncle has his wife and we all, the realtives to care him. And he was a famous playwright...and he wanted to write a lot (that he did also).

But the man whom I met had no one in Kerala to lookafter him...nor he a writer!!!! Still he want to go back to the roots!!

Yes, he was drunk ..but it was not a drinker's..worry..I am sure. I could hear his heart.

After eight years..now..in 2008 I do not know whether he could go back to Kochi and stay there peacefully..nor I never met him again!!

Hohhh..I missed to tell you all his name..he was Julias.

I wish you peace Julias..whereever you may me....

Delhi Routes (Roots!)

Traveling is my hobby, it can be local, to near by towns, interstate or some times international as well. But nothing like traveling is refreshing and rejuvenating for me. Being in Delhi for nearly a decade, i have now a quest to travel through the walled city's hisoric roots..through time and also in reality!!! Some times both!!!!!!!

You might be wondering what is my reference...I'll say it. Wait and see!!...........

സ്റ്റോറി.....

A king was determined to find a beautiful wife. Finally, he sent a trustworthy servant to search for him. One day, he passed a tiny cottage, which held two sisters, one eighty and the other ninety. He saw their small, delicate hands, which had kept white and soft through spinning. He thought they must belong to a beautiful woman, and told the king. The king sent him to try to see her.
One of them lied, claiming to be fifteen and her sister twenty, and the king decided to marry her. She said that she had never seen a ray of sun since she was born, and being touched would turn her black; the king had to send a carriage. He did, she went, heavily veiled, and they married. Their wedding night, he saw the old woman he had married and threw her out the window, where she caught on a hook. Four fairies saw her there and mischievously gave her youth, beauty, wisdom, and a tender heart. The king saw her the next morning, thought he must have been blind, and had her rescued.
Her sister came to her and plagued her for how she had become young again, until the queen said that she had had her head cut off, or, in other variants, that she had had herself skinned, and a new one had grown in its place. The sister went to get the same treatment from a barber, and died.

Life has no ‘rehearsals’

Before a few years I and my good friend Nitin (Ohh…..we call him Ayyappan and Raghu for different reasons!) for a Russian film. The film is about a middle aged man who continues his love for departed sweetheart although she left him a decade before!!! What was the most interesting thing for me in the film was a dialogue (I don’t remember the exact wordings) “Always we think that the incidents in our lives are something like rehearsal and the good part is yet to come, but you know in life there is no rehearsal and the good part that we expect for seldom comes”

Children's Theatre Portrays Social Exclusion Caused by AIDS

The Children's Theater group in the Golemarket area, New Delhi has come with a play called Munna, which is against the social exclusion caused by AIDS and the irresponsible as well as inhuman attitude towards the victims of AIDS. The play is based on real incident happened to the children of a couple died due to AIDS. A child ousted from the school and their relatives and society, reched New Delhi and meets a group of children who were enjoying their vacation. The child stays in a park in residential areas where Malayalees are staying. Out of wisdom of innocence, the child gets warm friendship from the children in the area. He become one among them. But some of the residents in the areas come to know that the child’s background that “his parents had died of AIDS.” Once again he is getting ousted from his friends, happiness and solace. He is getting alienated. He painfully says good bye to his friends and goes away!!!!

The play is written and directed by Jayakumar Panathittayil