Random thoughts

On By Indu PatikkalIn Random thoughtsLeave a comment
There is a an urge to write something.. anything, that would display my state of mind. But how would one write down a confused state of mind, where everything is so unsure. The book I just put down was inspiring enough – The Lucky One another one of Nicholas Sparks. It was good, but it wasn’t the kind of romance that suits me or leaves me with a fell-good-feeling when I close the book. Nights in Rodanthe by the same author didn’t deprive me of the feeling.

Why is it that people write? Because they are good at writing or they got good grades in the English courses during their academic years? No, its much deeper than that, its the need to vent out once feelings, emotions and everything beyond. I figure that authors are imaginative people. This maybe a commonly known fact. But imagination leads to writing, there is no doubt. You imagine yourself in a situation and further imagine your actions and the actions of people around you.

I just finished writing my fourth short story – Illusions of a dream. When I put the last full stop, I felt like all the words had been flushed out of my mind. I felt completely deviod of words, ideas, thoughts, imagination. But still there is an urge to write. Wonder when, wonder what… The main character of my next story will be Rishabh Acharya.

The movie I watched two days ago, has ushered in a new wave of energy – 3 idiots. The song “Saari umr hum mar mar ke jee liye, ek pal tho ab humen jeene do. Give me some sunshine, give me some rain, give me another chance, I wanna grow up once again”, is so much like my poem “Yesterday or tomorrow”. Just celebrated Christmas with friends and family. Everyone exchanged gifts, wish we could do it all over again.
Again, there is an urge to write something, this time it about a person who has said very little, and I would like to grow up once again to hear all those unspoken words.

The candy machine…

On By Indu PatikkalIn ChildrenLeave a comment
“Amma, I don’t need an afterschool care snack today”, said my five year old boy.
Concerned, I ask “Why, won’t you be hungry”.
“Yeah Amma, can I get something from the candy machine?” came the candid reply. His face pleading to me.
“Tomorrow, is your Christmas party, I will get you something from the candy machine, when I come tomorrow”.
“Ok, Amma. I want the green packet of Skittles, which has the sprinkles on it”. was his instant reply.

My son, goes to after school care in his school premises, after 3.10pm, when his school is dismissed. I should thank him with all my heart, for being so understanding and willing to stay in school for another three hours, while I attend to conference calls and emails. Anyways, all the kids who make this sacrifice for their parents, are assembled in a huge room called the Colonial Room, under the supervision of a teacher. This room has cupboards for games, benches for the kids to sit and the famous “Candy Machine”.

From the eyes of my five year old, its a machine, where you put money and press some numbers and the candy is out, ready to be picked up and savored. Yes, a vending machine with chocolates. The first time I saw a vending machine was when I arrived in the US of A, six years ago.

Each day these kids, [I am guessing here], go to the candy machine and point out to their favourite and because they are still learning to read, probably guess the name of the candy and imaginatively savor the taste.

One day, one of my son’s friends [a girl] brought some bills from home, and left no stone unturned in showing off her tryst with the candy machine. The boys stood around her and were awed by her slick expertise in handling the seven feet machine. She opened her bag of candy and distributed gladly, to the girls only. Thus started a revolt by the boys against her. She was banned!
That evening I heard repeatedly “Amma, we don’t like her, she is so mean, she didn’t give us candy, she is so rude, we boys don’t like the girls….” and so on.
He also said, “Amma, my friend Wilson was so sad, that he didn’t get a candy. Can you give me some money so that I can buy candy and give it to him?” I was touched by his thoughtfulness.

He narrated the same story to my husband. My husband asked him “If I give you money, and you buy the candy, would you share with the girl?”. “No!!” came the instant reply. “She did not share it with the boys, so I will not share with the girls.” Fair enough. My husband told him, “Do you think if you share the candy with her, the next time she will share with you?” My son, thought for a while and said “I think you are right Appa”.

The next day, when I went to pick up my son in the evening, we slipped a dollar bill into the magic machine. It went in, we pushed a couple of numbers and out came the candy packet. My son opened it and shared it with everyone, boys and girls and the she-did-not-share girl. Wilson got a huge share. The did-not-share-girl got the point, my son looked at me and winked.

Holiday season..

On By Indu PatikkalIn Random thoughts2 Comments
Another holiday approaches, with its earnest need to rejuvenate everyone. To give people the time to bask in the beauty of nature; travel to yonder lands. What is it about travel that fascinates people? Is it the visual pleasure of seeing the unseen, or is it the personal satisfaction that Yes! I made this trip. It definitely cannot be the packing and unpacking, wonder if there is anybody in this world who loves to pack and unpack. For some, it could be the journey to the destination, with familiar people whose tastes and perceptions match at least to a certain extent. There is definitely something that fascinates about traveling to everyone who travels; otherwise the travel industry wouldn’t be an industry. Oh I missed the planning part. Laying out what to do, when, where and accomplishing those milestones could also be one’s trigger for travel. Most people prefer traveling to known destinations with unknown plans. Just take off and be what you want to be, do what you want to do, oblivious to all the knowns of the equation. Thrill!! Adventure!! Mysterious!! Travel definitely unfolds a rejuvenated mind bringing you back to where you left to pick up the burdens you let down momentarily.
Another holiday season approaches, lest there are no plans to unknown destinations, familiar faces now seek the wild on their own, probably common perceptions have fallen off the cliff on one of the earlier journeys. Wishing them well and hoping that their journey brings them joy is all that there is left to do. Loneliness is solitude’s greatest blessing and curse. Sitting by the window, looking out at the gloomy sky, slowly snow begins to engulf the land in its white blanket.. And another holiday season passes by!

Tranquility..

On By Indu PatikkalIn TranquilityLeave a comment

Because William Wordsworth said – Poetry is a spontaneous overflow of feelings; it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility. 


her arms are open 
an empty a vessel in the ocean 
without a drop of water 
the warmth she one felt 
is giving away to the dreadful cold 
the cold is hitting her inch by inch 
she longs like a baby 
longing for his mother’s touch 
for the warmth that once engulfed her 
the hold that told her 
that everything was fine 
the world was as it should be 
she is protected forever 
from the harms of the wild 
no tear could touch her or harsh words 
she is at a loss of words, 
of feelings, of thought 
a numbness casts its evil shadow 
in its realm she stands still 
longing for the warmth that once engulfed her 
longing for the affection that once surrounded her 
she waits.. 
moments, days, weeks, months, years.. 
counting droplets of water in the wide seas 
is there an end, 
will the water ever drain out 
she waits for the warmth, 
the look that everything was okay 
she looks at the horizon, 
and sees no end 
life seeming to be an endless tunnel 
where she travels inch by inch, 
the cold wind hitting her 
in solitude, in pain, in silence, in tears 
and waits.. 
moments, days, weeks, months, years..

Barbie..

On By Indu PatikkalIn Childhood memoriesLeave a comment
I feel more inclined towards the emotional side of me this morning. I try to think and relive the moments from yesterday that have brought me drove me to this side of my feelings. It began with my trip to ToysRUs yesterday afternoon. I was walking through the Dolls aisle to buy one for my niece. As soon as I spotted a Barbie doll, the decision was made. But there were so many Barbie dolls, which left me in my otherwise usual state of mind – confused! The bikini Barbie was too revealing for my six year old niece. The one with pink hair, might invite some wild ideas in her little head. Then there was one with some decent clothes, but hair was too short. The thrill of playing with a Barbie doll is changing her clothes and combing her hair. The Barbie with short hair, would kill the fun in half. Finally I decided on a singer Barbie, a microphone in one hand, a bag in the other and of course long hair and a comb. I also picked up two extra dresses for Barbie, priced at a few cents over two dollars. On my way back home, I traveled back eighteen years, when I was in the seventh grade. I narrated to myself, my rendevous with my first and only Barbie.
It was a weekend, and after persisting for long, my usually-not-so-social father took us to his friend’s place. Uncle had one son and two daughters. While my parents chit chatted with uncle and aunty, my brother and I were left to play with the girls. The older girl asked her mother if she could play with her Barbie doll. The first time I heard the name. She brought out this most-beautiful-doll-I-have-ever-seen dressed in a plain white frock, with pink ribbons and white lace. She had the most beautiful hair tied up in another pice of pink ribbon. The doll had a coffee table set, with a pristine tea set and tiny cushions for the sofa and chairs. The sofa and chairs were in white and cushions were blue on one side and pink polka dots on the other. There was also a bathroom set, with a bathtub, hand shower, bubble bath and towel. Barbie also had a couple of dresses to change. My friend, she was my friend now, because she was sharing her Barbie with me, well, so my friend decided to give Barbie a bath. She slipped the Barbie in the bath tub, poured some water and whisked up some bubbles. Before Barbie could finish her bath and dry up, a call come from the adjacent room. It was my father, yeah you guessed it right, it was time to go home. With mixed emotions, and last look at Barbie in the bath tub, I bade goodbye to my friend.
I dont think I waited till I got home to raise my request for a Barbie. Way back then, a Barbie doll cost a hundred rupees. Way too much to spend on a doll. My mother could have bought a week’s grocery with that much money. After consistent Pleases’ and repeated asking, my parents agreed to buy me a Barbie. We walked up to the closest toy store on Double Road and went to the Dolls section. There she stood on the shelf, looking perfect in her white frock, with pink ribbons and white lace, waiting to be mine. She was called “My first Barbie”. I had liked her so much, I didnt want to take a look at the other models. Now was the crucial point. I couldnt have the living room and the bath tub set. It would be too heavy on my parents pocket. I had to choose either of them. I chose the living room set and thought, may be they will buy me the bathroom set later. The change of clothes turned out to be very expensive, so I stitched up a few dresses for Barbie, with old clothes at home. Probably that’s when I learnt to sew. As the rule in the book says, I grew up and forgot all about the bathroom set and eventually the Barbie doll.
When I got back home yesterday and showed the Barbie doll to my mother, it brought an instant smile on her face. I know, the image of my first Barbie in her white frock just flashed through her mind.
Later in the evening, I watched a romantic Bollywood movie. Such movies, push me easily to the emotional side. I get carried away with the subtle love potrayed and thoroughly enjoy the two hours of imagination that plays on the screen. Just when the actors were going to get married, my wailing son, forced me to shut off the idiot box and rock him to sleep. Alas, more emotions in store this evening.
This morning, my son came and stood beside me and said ‘Mom, I love you’. I asked him ‘do you need a hug?’. He nodded. I held him for a long time. He asked me to close my eyes, and kissed me on my forehead. Wrapping my arms around my kids and feeling the tightness of their hug, leaves my emotions skyrocketing.
Last but not the least, the hug and kiss I gave my husband’s mother this morning, brought a lump to my throat. At seventy she is making a trip alone back to India today to be with her grand daughter. After a few weeks she is going to make another twnety hour journey on a flight to be with her grandsons. I hope I can stand up and walk, if I ever live to match her age.
All the emotions flooding my brain, forced me to make these keystrokes. Oops! A microsoft outlook reminder window just popped up. Time to put down my emotions cap and wear my other go-back-to-work one!!

The birth of a story..

On By Indu PatikkalIn Random thoughtsLeave a comment
A story is an imagination. The author first imagines a few characters, their circumstances, situations, surroundings. Then he paints a picture of the characters surroundings. He establishes relationships between these characters. But the gist of the imagination is one essential question – what if “THIS” happened in these character’s life’s? Then what would happen next and next and so on. A chain of events is built, and the story starts developing. After a certain period of time, the author thinks, well thats enough. Either he’s too tired, or genuinely thinks its time to end the story. He builds the climax in his mind. After jotting down the last few words, he puts a full stop. There ends the story. There ends the imagination, until he is inspired again to imagine.
Many a times we think, if our life could follow the path of a story. An imagination. But wishes are wishes. Life has its own plan. The only invisible thing on earth – the plan of life. Everything else doesnt exist. You never know where the turns are, stop signs are, which way, nothing. A journey to an unknown destination, via an unknown path, is life, very real, very known.
Thought provokers have said, enjoy what you have, glad with what you have, find happiness in them. But what if you cannot? What if you yearn for the imaginary things? Thats when you become an author or lose out on the opportunity called ‘life’.