down the memory lane...

A mail from a friend made me write this... memories... about a time when you were carefree...when you shared stories with the wind and trees...of times gone past to extreme horizons...i too have lot of that written down on the early pages of my life...(though, much of it has gone to infinite distance that i dont see it anymore)

yeah, i too hav that experience of washing a cow...but its loong bak...long bak to the point where my memories begin to fade...before joining school in kochi, i used to stay with my grand parents in my native place...its adoor, a southern town in kerala, some 100 kms frm kochi...then we had a cow there, (and couple of goats for a very brief period of time)...used to feed it, wash it, milk it...(well, my grandfather did all that..i just supervised!!!..) and the cow has even licked me on my face...not a pleasant feeling though, its tongue is ROUGH!!

lot of cats...but not a single one from our house...all the cats from around the place gathered whenever my grandma sat down for cutting the fish...with their kitten..and i had managed to befriend some of the cats...and play with them with a piece of salted fish tied on to a long thread..

then there was this huge mango tree in front of that house, where each soft breeze carried down with it lot of mangoes, when it was full ,which tasted like honey...and the sprint to collect them after every passing breeze...

we had a small path leading to my home from the road..and we, some four/five guys from the neighbourhood used to play all kinds of games from cricket to hockey!! ...yeah, on that narrow patch of land!.., and many a times the ball, after a boundary, landed right inside the well and it was another interesting work to collect the ball from the deep well using the bucket and rope..! and every game ended with us assembling in front of the well drinking the sweet cold water and washing, with each one pulling up water in turns..

durin my school vacation i went there every year and my grandfather used to tell me abt the old times when i went to a preschool hangin on his fingertips...tht i used to pester him with all kind of doubts...like..why that grass is growing there on a heap of mud ..n why is that bird sitting on a branch..n why that branch is growin in this direction n all....

its all a long time back...even now, i go there at times...n try to revisit the times when
life was simple and pure and fun...often i sit down on the steps and look back...that path wher we played seem smaller...i hate the game of cricket now...that mango tree is extinct...the cow shed is full of junk...there is no rope and pulley on that well...there are still cats around...but they run away the moment they see me...

...thanks faith, for making me walk down the memory lane.

In pursuit...

..that cool wind, the soft waves
the sublime horizon with shades of pink,
the dolphins and seagulls in heavenly bliss
the monotonous drone from the Engine room
I'm on the deck at the end of day

one more sunset to cherish,
the prize of a never ending voyage;
i'm getting older by one more day..
the melancholy cabin awaits me above
to share untold stories with silent words...

i am waiting for the port unknown
where i would touch land again
and breath in the scent of wet soil
where flowers sing the song of eternal freedom
and my soul rejoice before the next sail begins....

summer!!

hmn..had been waitin for quite some time to write something! damn! but i dont feel like writin nythin !!!

The Journey (...inspired by the book - "Many Lives Many Masters" by Dr. Brain Weiss

The time has arrived
New knowledge leading your way,
Knowledge that take you to unknown horizons
Horizons you'd thought never existed

Existence, spanning beyond ages
And towards ages yet to come
You were there, you are there and you will be there
Till you learn your lessons

Lessons that take you to higher planes
Planes you cannot fathom the dimensions,
Beyond perception lies the eternal wisdom
Wisdom u gain, when u’ve learned it all

It’s a long journey you are travelling
At times you may not see the path
Close your eyes and ask your soul
You will see the light that guides your way

And one day you will know for sure
Your journey is all over for ever
You no more need the light to guide your way
Because you will be the light then, the God!

A true story....

Usually it never happens. But that day I left the fan running in my room. I ran away in a hurry for the afternoon class.When I came back after about 2 hours, I could feel something strange…. everything looked normal, my bed, table, chair, and everything else, except for the windows…I’d forgotten to close it. Its not a big mistake, but sometimes some bird got into the room and made good use of my bed as a toilet.But still, something was wrong. What is it?Then I heard it…a low booming sound…my ceiling fan. It was making a bizarre sound and I was surprised to see it running very slow. I never ran it other than on full speed. My technical part of brain told me something was wrong with the windings………I looked at the slowly rotating blades, as if I could judge the he problem by looking at it. It was then that I saw……the edge of a blade bent upwards! How on earth could that happen??I switched off the fan and had a closer look. It was like someone had hit the end of the blade with some heavy object. Suddenly I could see why the fan was running very slow…. the bent part of the blade was acting as a restriction, preventing the blade to cut through air. like applying a brake on itself.I climbed on my bed and bend the blade back to its normal position. To my satisfaction, the fan slowly gained speed n was running again at full speed when I switched it on.But the question was still there. What could have happened? Who would have done that and why?Then it occurred to me as I gazed around and saw the open window…damn it! Why did I leave it open? Some poor bird had gotten into the room, hit itself on the rotating blades while flying around, probably breaking a leg or a wing, and would have flown out cursing its fate..Or would it have flown out??…rather, could it have??I felt a creepy sensation in my body…the way in which the steel blades were bent…. only a severe blow could have done that. No bird could survive that, at least not without some serious injury.I looked around…now I saw, small feathers at the edges of the floor; the fan had blown it to the bottom of the walls. I sat down and picked one. it took me no time to see that it was a pigeon’s .Now everything was clear as daylight. Some poor soul of a pigeon came through the open window, hit right on to the high-speed fan blades, fell down flapping its wings in utter agony, throwing away its loose feathers…then where is the pigeon?My bed was almost directly beneath the fan, its side laid alongside the wall. I scanned the bed…nothing….. Wait! At the extreme corner of my bedsheet, I saw it…a small red circle…blood!!Next instant I was sitting down on the floor searching the underside of the cot. Then I saw it…..a pigeon, lying still on the floor, dead!The sight sent a shiver through my body. Now what? I didn’t feel like going near it, let alone touch it.
I sat there almost a couple of minutes, thinking what to do. I pulled the bed back. Now I could see it clearly....the blood, which flowed out from its beak, had formed a small pool beneath its head on the floor. There were other red spots on the floor nearbyI couldn’t look at that sight for long. I could feel a swell of emotions about to erupt from within….. sadness, anger, frustration! I cursed myself for leaving the fan on, at the same time keeping the windows wide-open…..i killed that bird!!I sat on the chair, but for a while I couldn’t think clearly. I felt guilty. Its me who was responsible for its death. Murderer!!I’d heard people shooting down pigeons, but hadn’t given it much thought. But when I saw that motionless body a yard away from my feet, I couldn’t imagine how anyone can do this to it…the feeling I had was beyond words to express. What do I do now?I had to somehow bury it somewhere. Bury?.. I cant do that around here…At last I made my mind to give it a watery grave. After searching for sometime, I found a plastic cover in my cupboard. I took an old newspaper, covered it over the body, wrapped around it, took it and placed it inside the plastic cover and closed its opening. God! It was as light as a cotton ball….the lightness of the dead body further heaved my heart.Slowly I walked out of the room, climbed down the stairs out into the porch and towards the seaside. Band team was practising their daily lessons, playing something, which I couldn’t quite figure out.,…..They barely noticed me walking past them towards the concreted seaside. I untied the plastic cover and threw it into the water…and stood there as the waves carried away poor bird.As I walked back to my room, I stopped at the bottom of my hostel and looked towards my room on the third floor. There, on the open window sill of my room, I saw a lone pigeon sitting, peeping inside…..could be the soul mate of the gone one, still waiting for it to come back..I wished I could tell it that I was sorry….