Category: Relationship

She Lives

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brownie

 She lay by the roadside quiet and lifeless

Walking away after a meal into the wilderness;

Her time has come to an end

Reality still to wade my heart’s bend…

The stray little kitty

Who made me witty,

My mind pictures her in my camera click

And I prefer to see her live and blink.

We are different and so are our fates

Yet care transpired to affection and long waits.

In a moment she has become my past

But memories of her short beautiful life will last.

Wonder if I shall miss her to eternity?

And awareness reminds “it’s destiny”.

Father

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fathers day

My name, ‘Deeya’, has always fascinated me. Etymologically, the word has its roots in various languages. But my father named me ‘Deeya’, inspired by the Hindi word ‘Diya’, which means ‘lamp’.

I grew up listening to my school teachers, fondly, referring to me as the ‘lamp of the family’; and I travelled with my family where ever my father’s transfers took us, changing schools and accommodating cultures and traditions.

Once on a long vacation, we happened to be in our family home in Kerala, and my father showed me his world of books and writings. There I came face to face with ‘Deeya’, my father’s pseudonym.

A surprise indeed! My father had never mentioned his joy of writing, except that he enjoyed reading my creative ventures. To help me improve my writing skills, he encouraged reading, bought books, gifted diaries, and advised me to make them my best friends.

Occasionally, he would enquire about my latest diary entry, and I used to read it out to him very reluctantly. Then it had mattered less to me. Gradually, I found myself sharing every single write up and poem I penned; and he was more than happy to view his opinions and mend.

In fact, my first book of poetry materialised due to his quiet work of passing on the poems to the publisher.

Years have passed by. Nothing seems to have changed. Even today we spend hours over the phone (distances hardly matter!), especially on holidays, discussing news, views, and his critical observation of my writings.

Need to mention, he hopes to see me read and understand the depths of Malayalam literature. To begin with, recently he gifted me an English translation of the great legends of Kerala.

Over a period of time, my relationship with my father has matured from a father-daughter one to a guru-shishya (teacher-student) level of understanding. A teacher, who understands, guides and accepts the student as she is.

I often wonder if I have idealised him. However, I am still learning from his philosophy of life. And I have realised that I am truly his “Deeya”. On this Father’s Day, I salute you, my dear acchan (Father in Malayalam).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Mothers

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birdies

 

What does little birdie say

In her nest at peep of day?

Let me fly, says little birdie,

Mother, let me fly away.

Birdie, rest a little longer,

Till the little wings are stronger,

So she rests a little longer,

Then she flies away.

 

The famous lines from Alfred Lord Tennyson, written ages ago, taught  and is still being taught, have remained ingrained in my mind.

My school long forgotten, and we classmates awaiting our little birdies’ flights, still enjoy reciting this poem.

As I clicked the picture of a nest with little birdies in my garden, I look at the mother bird struggling to keep her calm.

The hummingbird that appears ageless, in her tiny body, blue sheen, and beak sharpened to perfection, fluttering, I wonder how much we struggle to look young. At the same time, life has been a sweet struggle when we take the role of providers to our children. Probably, all in the hope of living up to their expectations!

And then comes the day, when they find their way into the bigger world of dreams and aspirations. The excitement to take on an independent life makes them camouflage their love, and it transpires into achieving a living.

Apparently, most mothers, in spite of their busy schedules and work, find it hard to deal with this parting. Gradually, their love transcribe to loving selflessly. And then they learn to live with the day.

Connected, Yet Disconnected

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A life was gone. I didn’t know. A condolence message to that friend, which appeared as the recent update on my social networking site took me by shock. I sat to remember the last interaction; it was a birthday post on my friend’s profile.

Social networking sites are the new means of staying connected with friends. School, college, office colleagues, neighbourhood and like-minded people from our profession. The friend list goes on increasing and decreasing, oft and on, as and when, people move in and move out due to their own personal reasons.

However, the question that continued to haunt me was “do we really stay in touch with each and every individual from our friend’s list?” I would not have thought about it had it not been for a friend whom I lost recently.

Today that friend is a living profile on the social networking site. Many may be still waiting for the site to update on the individual’s birthday; a day we chose to wish our friends. Here, I search for an appropriate word, “friend”, “acquaintance” or “contact”. Whoever it is, we hardly know most of the people in our endless list.

On the hindsight, social networking site is an excellent platform to build network. This does not necessarily mean emotional connects. A practical approach to life and the concept of “live, and let live” is the rule to live.

I wished for once to reconnect with my dear and near ones. I was happy that I still could get to speak to them over the phone. I knew they were all safe and sound. And that my cyber indulgence is a far cry from reality. A farce of true value of friendship.