The silence of Diya**

The blissful show of light
Took the dark afar
Burning self to ash
Stood the diya in gleam

Happiness for all, living and non-living
Prayed I for with folded hands

Asked someone from inside
Did you wish for Diya’s too!!

Took it me by surprise
Never did I inquire
What it meant it’s silence
Of Diya when taken to flame

Took it forever granted
Diya’s light as my right
Didn’t think it ever could have
Thoughts of its own happiness

Don’t know still what it means
To have a life of deep silence
It could stand for a lot or none
But here I stand afraid!!

(**Here 'Diya' connotes the cotton bud/cloth which we use to lit an oil lamp)

The Strange Breeze..

There is something strange about this breeze. It reminds me of that hot breeze which came and struck me to leave me with an even odd sense of insecurity then. It was also a sunny Sunday afternoon. We were stepping up the stairs of the hospital along with my Uncle. My sister was unusually silent. So was my Uncle. It was like a puff of hot air which not just left my curly hair all the more unkempt but also shook me inside. It left me with some bizarre fear and a few questions. To which I kept on telling blatant 'NO's deliberately to re-inforce my strong belief that nothing bad will happen to me and my family. At that age I had a logic that my Grandma always used to tell us kids that 'nothing bad will happen to us since we have not done or thought anything wrong'. I used to think that this used to hold true all the time and hence this time also nothing bad will happen and that my Grandma will get well soon and be discharged from the hospital.


As we reached near the ICU, I saw my Dad. He looked at us with a never before seen helplessness in his eyes. That made me feel even weird. I said to myself..No..it cant be the case..He must be just tensed up about Grandma's surgery. Because, before going for lunch with Uncle, i heard them saying that Grandma will soon be operated post to which she should be fine.
Suddenly , I heard Mom bursting in to tears..and then Aunty came to me and told that it is over..i remember me going and finding myself a seat a little far away from the rest of the crowd. It took me some time to believe that such bad things will happen to us also. For the first time I was angry at the Gods.I was trying to come to terms with the 'cold' reality but in vain. My Grandma was healthy. She just had a cold when I met her the day before at my Uncle's place. It was because of the renovation work at our home that she shifted to Uncle's place the week before. Everyone was expecting her back home that morning. When she had called up in the morning, I fought with her also, when she told that she wouldnt be coming because, she was having slight cold and did not want to take chance.


I could not believe first when Uncle called up to inform us that she was taken to ICU the moment she walked in to the hospital along with my Uncle. That too after a lot of pursuation by Uncle since she was so reluctant to go to hospital for that slight cold. It was just a matter of few hours that she left all of us ...and I decided that i would not cry on this. For I wanted to teach my mind that she was very much there with me. And for that reason, though many had come to explain and pursuade me, I just didnt want to go and see her for the last time before being taken to the mortuary. But at last had to relent to Aunty, when she said I might regret later. That time I really did not know what is right or what is wrong. I went along with her inside the ICU. I hugged and kissed my Grandma. For me she appeared to be sleeping except that I could feel the 'cold', death had left her with. I still can sense that cold on my lips and fingertips as I am walking through this flash-back.


I dont have a reason why I got reminded of her death today though getting reminded of her loss is just normal for me even these days. She was more than a Grandma to me. We used to share our world when no one else was around.


She is someone who used to prepare me all my favourite dishes time and again. She got me bangles every festival season. She used to arrange for poojas on every star sign of mine without fail.She used to wait for me in the verandah on friday evenings, expecting me from hostel. She bought me my first payal. She taught me the baics of cooking. She taught me the traditional prayer songs. She was mine. She scolded me for my mistakes in front of others but she pampered me and made me feel special when we were together. I feel good about all those wonderful moments but I feel terrible when I miss it now.


Years have passed by and now she is just in my prayers and I feel that i am missing her...when I go for an interview, start any new thing, try my hand at cooking, when i feel I have nobody as 'mine' etc..etc..etc.......the thoughts of her loss put me to tears these days...though I managed not to cry when the entire family was sobbing those days...and yes... the breeze is still on...not enough to dry the tears off my face though..

Society does not matter to me…really?!!

In my first post I did mention about 'society's rights and wrongs unknowingly conditioning my mind...and that being one of the major cause of the confused and constipated mind. I think I was trying to tell myself that society does not matter to me. And hence when I blog here, I would like to speak my heart out without inhibitions in the light of societal righteousness.

I wrote whatever that came to my mind at that point in time. However, I have been ruminating over that question, whether and/or should society really matter to me or anyone as an individual.

Come of think of it...last time when I had gone home, I almost fought with Amma (Mallu word for Mom) when she expressed her dislike towards my attire, when we were ready to go for a family function. I tried to reason it out with her that my cotton churidar was comfortable and convenient than the silk saree she was insisting me to put on. Amma's (Mallu word for Mom) fear about 'what others will think' invariably in anything and everything in her life was nothing new to me. She might not want to agree to this completely and explicitly though. She has given society the right (silent obedience) to decide as to what she should wear, where she should eat out (if at all..rarely though..), what her daughters should/should not wear, how she/her daughters should carry themselves during interaction with others so on and so forth...had she not been in our village, still she would have been the same i guess. The only difference I can think of is in terms of consideration bracket changing according to the permissible perceived limits imposed by the society in each of the things.

I have always been called as a rebel inside my home, against my folks' (generally elderly) general preference towards society's so-called rights. I had huge disconnects in why they always go by what is proper according to the society than by their personal convenience and happiness. It used to impact me some way or the other since going against what is acceptable to my family is an issue for me. I have inhibitions in doing things which are completely unacceptable to my folks.

Now, sitting here at this juncture, I am utterly confused. Amn't I too acting like Amma did? She has inhibitions in going against the rights of her 'society' and I have the same in case of mine. The only difference I can see is that for her, the community to which she belongs to, the villagers who stay in the vicinity, all the people who are remotely related to her family, so on and so forth...Whereas for me, my society about whom I am bothered when I take a decision (depending on the seriousness of the subject under consideration, the bracket might/not include a few others as well though) is limited to my immediate family and my close friends circle.

This takes me to another conflicting thought...

Here I see a young generation (though not sure if belong to that) which flaunts 'cool' 'I dont care' attitude to the world around. A generation that wears what they want, eat what the like, which literally follows their heart in everything and anything. The generation that take the plunge, live in present, which wants to be free from everything. This generation goes for all that is 'cool'...starting from the drinks that they sip to quench thirst to the glass they wear to the music they listen to...the list is endless... everything and anything that their circle thinks as cool and trendy...they go for it...make it 'their' brand. So here, aren't they also going by the perceived rights of their society?? I think I have to say 'yes'. There could be cases of aberration. I know generalizing a generation based on my limited exposure might not be the right thing to do...but one thing I can tell you is that I am just being honest and blunt ...in hindsight I don't see much of a difference between what Amma did and what I do..

In the middle of lots of talks about individuality and following one's heart and such stuff, I genuinely think that society does matter to each of us at an individual level somewhere deep in some corner of us ...though as a matter of fact I would prefer to think otherwise..for it satisfies the fake 'rebel' in me ;-)

I am so self obsessed .I always knew it. But I am pretty surprised at the degree of this disease at the moment. Now you tell me ...am I not right in saying so?? A simple exercise of count of 'I' in the statements so far will provide proof enough! Well...that apart what made me think of the extent of self obsession syndrome that I have fallen prey to, is nothing but my confusion about how I should start 'my' blog. The confusion is more so because it is 'mine'. Since according to me, anything which has this 'my/I' element has to stand out and be catchy and impressive enough to invite others [not just my friends, most importantly my perceived 'enemies' whom I am envious of ;-) ]. Whether it does is a different question altogether. But there won’t be any dearth of effort from my side to make it extra ordinary. If any of my friends or colleagues happen to readi this...they will have a good laugh. Because they must be now wondering even after so much of effort, all that is 'mine' so to speak.. has just been average in their eyes (including mine unfortunately!!). So to all of them, what I have to say is that even if it was just mediocre according to you all...still each of them was/is/will be so special and dear to me irrespective of its publicly perceived value. And so is this post!!

God!!! Now i am tired. I know so are you after reading this bakwas. But one thing is sure..i have tried to do complete justice to my blog name and my pen name through this initial scribbling. I am hoping that you would also agree beyond any shadow of doubt that my mind is constipated.

When I told Miss.Model about the name of my new blog..she said 'yakk' about the 'constipation' part. B.t.w...she needs an intro...she is the one who not only troubles me by sharing our 1bhk in the most densely populated metro in India but also puts me to huge complex when I am growing big (read as fat) to glory. She eats as much as I do, but does not seem to be digesting and hence doesn’t put on unlike me. Uska mann acha nahin hein!! Ohh..i shouldn’t have bitched about her at least not today on her B'day ...many many happy returns of the day dear :)

Coming back to our topic...the name of 'my' blog - Musings of a constipated Mind. I was thinking too hard...whether I should blog in first place!! Firstly, I think writers are these lateral thinkers in to whose category I by no chance would fall. I am so away from lateral thinking that I dont even try my hand at a new pudding..rather would any day go for a well trodden chicken kadai path.

All said and done, I admire two categories of people. One, painters(of course not wall putty) and two, writers. I know I can never get in to creative writing. My Achan (Mallu word for Dad) writes and he always used to encourage me to start scribbling whatever comes to my mind..had done it a few times as a school girl and left it there. Of late, I tried a few lines which when was sent for 'critical' review to Achan's table, I coaxed him to put it under the category of poetry. Then he is the one who suggested why not try 'blogging'.

I know it is 'in' these days. I am a late comer here for a fact though. But even then I am hoping that this late comer also will catch attention from rest of the crowd like in a classroom!! Seems my syndrome has got worse to a little too extreme level.

I know I have meandered a lot from the topic. But let me do a little more and I shall be back in a short while.

I always used to love limelight. But never had the confidence to put my case forward at any place or time. And hence I managed to save my face by showing off my modesty. Acting as though...'Oh...no...let it be..it is not note-worthy and I don’t like people noticing me!!'. Now I think I have reached a point where I am confused what I want or like. But one thing is sure that public attention these days make me slightly uncomfortable. And hence though some where deep inside I like outstanding introduction and weird names and such stuff...no such thing was involved in naming this blog. I genuinely think that my mind is constipated. There are many things which are stuck up and obstructed due to some self imposed inhibitions. And I think these self imposed restrictions started influencing my thought process at an age when I, as a girl belonging to a traditional background [aristocratic nair family as per matrimonial terminology ;-) rofl..] with rural upbringing, started becoming aware of society's rights and wrongs. And I slowly must have got conditioned to it.

So the purpose of this anonymous blog is to flush out all that is there and do the cleansing act. So for the ones who could bear this by reading all through till now, and might have the courage to tolerate my future posts...this is a word of caution for you all..read it as a disclaimer too pls..read at your own risk..there could be lot of shit in my posts...thia is not another show off of my modesty…i am just exercising my freedom of speech and expression here...and i am keeping my anonymity not because i don’t have the courage to stand by what i speak..but because lime light makes me feel uncomfortable ;-)

I think this is enough for now..lets see how it goes...and we will take it accordingly further...

Sorry everyone. I was thinking of winding up with the above line.. but I could not leave without telling you this..the above line is exactly how we sum up every other meeting in our office...when the discussion must not have taken us to anywhere..which more often than not is the case.

Chalo...I know you are more tired than me now...not troubling you much..though to read through this idiotic stuff, it doesn’t require you to tax your grey cells..alvida..till we meet next ..Whenever that be..