By PV Subramanyam
“It’s about time I reconcile and live my life. Life? Mine? Really? Why this
Kolaveri? Am I really me? Me? Is there really a ‘Me’? Who is this ‘Me’? Identity yes
identity, what is mine? Do I have one? Hhmmm…..”
Let’s start from the beginning. Colorful, cheerful, not a care in the world, world
itself at her feet can conquer it at any time. That was the age of this wonderful girl who
was every one’s darling. She was a show stealer who ignites the surroundings with
her infectious enthusiasm and zeal. She is ever helping her mother in her daily chores,
showering abundance of love on her little brother, pampering to the annoyance of her
parents. She is also a faithful little sister to that elder brother who taught her how to
cycle, how to fly kites and introduced to the wonderful world of books. That smile she
brings to the grandparents. Even when she fights or angrily retorts why they couldn’t
wait for her to came and do their work instead of taking off on their own with no regard
to their own age. A faithful daughter to her father, only she could talk to the bread
earning short tempered man of the house. Only a daughter can fight with the father
when her brothers cannot imagine answering back. Also leading her pack, in studies
and pioneering in all fields and carrying dreams of excellence some day. She was a
perfect feminine angle, always caring, loving and giving as a sister, daughter (even as a
granddaughter) and a sincere student too.
Not to mention what a friend she is to that bunch of Eves in all the thicks
and thins. All that laughter over the trivial issues those pranks on the un-expecting
decedents of Adam. A rosy picture, never realized when that bunch of bubbling buds
blossomed. They are discussing about the poor little souls who come to see them for
alliance. They used to wait round the corner of their friend’s house whom someone had
come to see. The girl herself would be thinking, “when will this clown leave, so that I can
fly out and discuss him with my friends”. If only the poor souls heard all those
comments, they would have never dared to meet another girl at all. One by one all
friends tie that holy knot of commitment, and start drifting. Our life, (let us call her that),
meets her chosen one. Life goes into any unimaginable bliss. That long talks on the
phone, ever waiting for the postman for that letter, almost fighting that he missed
delivering her letter the day before, drifting away in the middle of a conversation,
blushing when a pal had to bring you back to the present, bursting into laughter at the
dining table, with father giving you admonishing looks and mother smiling
understandingly. Never realizing the implication nor the gravity till you sit in the car, next
to him and start moving towards his house, leaving behind 25 yrs of your life, into a
new unknown future, silent tears rolling down.
Next day of your arrival into his world, away from all in a distant land, far away
from all the known ones, he leaves to work with a sweat kiss and among a bunch of
unopened boxes. Lost unsure, never realizing how time flys, it’s time for him to come
back for lunch, you hurriedly prepare lunch just in time when he comes home. Those
unsure looks, expectation for appreciation of efforts but that fool gobbles up the food
without a word and smiling throughout, but he helps in doing the dishes. It takes a while
to understand that stranger not withstanding that long chats on the telephone and those
long never ending letters. Love blossoms, acquaintance to familiarity and liberties and
just love. Now this becomes your life. The day you had to leave to your parents place
those uncontrollable tears in the railway station leaves a confused husband on the
station as your train moves taking you towards your own parents place only for a while.
Those experiments with the culinary skills, ever waiting for the sound of his bike to rush
to the door, stealing glances in a crowd, rushing to get the breakfast, his dress, his
approval, “shall I wear this, how do I look, hope it’s not too spicy”, turning to a interior
decorator to do up your small nest, small teasing notes in the house, ever around for
him or just cuddling up together….now your life.
Fruits of love come as bundles of joy. ‘Happy nappy changing’. Sleep, hunger
and self no more significant, that tiny angle fills the thoughts and world, in between
pulled towards your love and your own creation (your bundle of joy). You turn to be the
guardian, a teacher, a friend, a companion, a councilor, the protector, a guide, a guru, a
mother. You grow up with the child passing each class with them, taking each step with
them, acquiring new skills be it dance, arithmetic, basketball coach or simply driving a
vehicle to chauffer the family to their various activities. It’s time for the birds to leave the
nest they go in search of their destiny. You take a deep satisfied sign and say now it’s
about time….
A short recess it’s time for your bundle of joys to find their love and their bundle
of joys follow, you are ever there as a reliable pillar of feminine strength and support.
Looking back in life with pride, life looks at a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother,
and those laminated originals (educational certificates) as proofs of her dreams.
“It’s about time I reconcile and live my life. Life? Mine? Really? Why this
Kolavari? Am I really me? Me? Is there really a me? Who is this me? Identity yes
identity, what is mine? do I have one? Hhmmm…..”
Yes.………. life!
Author:
Mr. PVR Subramanian
You can find his contribution to technology here:
http://seopep.blogspot.in/2012/01/touching-your-lives-making-difference.html
Previous posts:
http://themagazinebhelhss85.blogspot.in/2012/02/story-untold.html
“It’s about time I reconcile and live my life. Life? Mine? Really? Why this
Kolaveri? Am I really me? Me? Is there really a ‘Me’? Who is this ‘Me’? Identity yes
identity, what is mine? Do I have one? Hhmmm…..”
Let’s start from the beginning. Colorful, cheerful, not a care in the world, world
itself at her feet can conquer it at any time. That was the age of this wonderful girl who
was every one’s darling. She was a show stealer who ignites the surroundings with
her infectious enthusiasm and zeal. She is ever helping her mother in her daily chores,
showering abundance of love on her little brother, pampering to the annoyance of her
parents. She is also a faithful little sister to that elder brother who taught her how to
cycle, how to fly kites and introduced to the wonderful world of books. That smile she
brings to the grandparents. Even when she fights or angrily retorts why they couldn’t
wait for her to came and do their work instead of taking off on their own with no regard
to their own age. A faithful daughter to her father, only she could talk to the bread
earning short tempered man of the house. Only a daughter can fight with the father
when her brothers cannot imagine answering back. Also leading her pack, in studies
and pioneering in all fields and carrying dreams of excellence some day. She was a
perfect feminine angle, always caring, loving and giving as a sister, daughter (even as a
granddaughter) and a sincere student too.
Not to mention what a friend she is to that bunch of Eves in all the thicks
and thins. All that laughter over the trivial issues those pranks on the un-expecting
decedents of Adam. A rosy picture, never realized when that bunch of bubbling buds
blossomed. They are discussing about the poor little souls who come to see them for
alliance. They used to wait round the corner of their friend’s house whom someone had
come to see. The girl herself would be thinking, “when will this clown leave, so that I can
fly out and discuss him with my friends”. If only the poor souls heard all those
comments, they would have never dared to meet another girl at all. One by one all
friends tie that holy knot of commitment, and start drifting. Our life, (let us call her that),
meets her chosen one. Life goes into any unimaginable bliss. That long talks on the
phone, ever waiting for the postman for that letter, almost fighting that he missed
delivering her letter the day before, drifting away in the middle of a conversation,
blushing when a pal had to bring you back to the present, bursting into laughter at the
dining table, with father giving you admonishing looks and mother smiling
understandingly. Never realizing the implication nor the gravity till you sit in the car, next
to him and start moving towards his house, leaving behind 25 yrs of your life, into a
new unknown future, silent tears rolling down.
Next day of your arrival into his world, away from all in a distant land, far away
from all the known ones, he leaves to work with a sweat kiss and among a bunch of
unopened boxes. Lost unsure, never realizing how time flys, it’s time for him to come
back for lunch, you hurriedly prepare lunch just in time when he comes home. Those
unsure looks, expectation for appreciation of efforts but that fool gobbles up the food
without a word and smiling throughout, but he helps in doing the dishes. It takes a while
to understand that stranger not withstanding that long chats on the telephone and those
long never ending letters. Love blossoms, acquaintance to familiarity and liberties and
just love. Now this becomes your life. The day you had to leave to your parents place
those uncontrollable tears in the railway station leaves a confused husband on the
station as your train moves taking you towards your own parents place only for a while.
Those experiments with the culinary skills, ever waiting for the sound of his bike to rush
to the door, stealing glances in a crowd, rushing to get the breakfast, his dress, his
approval, “shall I wear this, how do I look, hope it’s not too spicy”, turning to a interior
decorator to do up your small nest, small teasing notes in the house, ever around for
him or just cuddling up together….now your life.
Fruits of love come as bundles of joy. ‘Happy nappy changing’. Sleep, hunger
and self no more significant, that tiny angle fills the thoughts and world, in between
pulled towards your love and your own creation (your bundle of joy). You turn to be the
guardian, a teacher, a friend, a companion, a councilor, the protector, a guide, a guru, a
mother. You grow up with the child passing each class with them, taking each step with
them, acquiring new skills be it dance, arithmetic, basketball coach or simply driving a
vehicle to chauffer the family to their various activities. It’s time for the birds to leave the
nest they go in search of their destiny. You take a deep satisfied sign and say now it’s
about time….
A short recess it’s time for your bundle of joys to find their love and their bundle
of joys follow, you are ever there as a reliable pillar of feminine strength and support.
Looking back in life with pride, life looks at a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother,
and those laminated originals (educational certificates) as proofs of her dreams.
“It’s about time I reconcile and live my life. Life? Mine? Really? Why this
Kolavari? Am I really me? Me? Is there really a me? Who is this me? Identity yes
identity, what is mine? do I have one? Hhmmm…..”
Yes.………. life!
Mr. PVR Subramanian
You can find his contribution to technology here:
http://seopep.blogspot.in/2012/01/touching-your-lives-making-difference.html
Previous posts:
http://themagazinebhelhss85.blogspot.in/2012/02/story-untold.html
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