g's world

                            It was a lovely morning when I boarded the train from the Mambalam station; I purchased a ticket and took a seat in the partly filled vendor compartment. As usual vendors of every type advertised their pens, cucumbers, colouring books and guavas. I bought a packet of peanuts and started munching away to pass the time. I was half-asleep and lolling on the metal wall of the train when I heard tapping sounds in a rhythmic wave. I sleepily gazed around the compartment to find out the source of such noise. I found a woman who clad a ragged sari tapping a vessel with a wooden stick. When I looked at the center of the compartment, there was this girl who was no more than five years old somersaulting, dancing and doing other sorts of tricks with a small iron ring of her size. As the tapping ended, she ran to her mother to collect the vessel and came over to the passengers to beg for...

"The bigger, better and beautiful things in life come with patience and kindness." says my mum every time I get helpless and impatient with life's rigmarole. One such accomplishment that I had to wait for was the end of my college life (bachelor's degree). It was the first year of college, I entered the gates with excitement thronging my every part and my eyes were filled with dreams of the brightest future ahead, the amazing friends whom I'm going to spend my days with, the freedom I was about to enjoy, the accolades that I was yet to win and the course which I was about to study (which I had really loved so far!). I loved the library, the stringent teachers, the grounds of the college, the fruit shop just outside the college, my college cultural, the orientation program where many meritorious people addressed us and every other thing about my college. It was one big dream come true and I was observing each and every thing with the glossy eyes of a wondrous...

This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com It was one of those quiet days without any unanticipated happenings or guests at home. I was slouching onto the sofa, sipping honey nectar like coffee from my favorite mug. I was preoccupied with something in my mind, rather, someone. It had been so many months since I had put in a “HI” to him. I was so preoccupied with my own life here in Chennai that I had forgotten to put in a greeting for one of my childhood super heroes. I am not indicating this post to my dearest dad, who with no doubt, was my greatest hero and companion throughout my childhood. I am writing this post for someone else who also made my childhood memorable, who made me feel special like I was the little girl of his life, my uncle. I could remember with pristine clarity, the days when I used to go and stay at his one bed-roomed apartment in Mylapore which had the love for many such little girls like me. At my arrival, he used ...

It was early in the morning, I was packing my things to move in to our new dream home on the shores of an island. Yes, we were moving out of India, to a dream destination we have always been talking about when we were into a relationship. Samyukt had managed to get his work station transferred to the Maldives. I was happily packing, shoving away my school and college stuff that had been laid out in my chest of memories. I wanted to pack what was very dear to me and college stuff was absolute trash. As I was discarding the things in the chest one by one, I happened to lay my hands on my slam book and a yellowed photo album which had been neglected for over 6 years. I opened the album to see the 70 cheering faces of my class happily glancing at me. Well, I was one of them, accompanied by my then-best-friend Reeta. I happily had my hands wrapped over her shoulders and hers on mine. The days of our absolute intimacy, the days of our endless riots into the restroom to bunk classes...

She was standing in the limelight of the 77th annual cine awards, her sketch being portrayed as perfectly as ever. She stood there smiling blissfully with her teeth of pure white, her flexible skin elongating to produce a perfect upward curve. She had been plastered with a silky white gown portraying her clevage and strapped to 7 inch stilletos that she had never been comfortable with. She was a woman of strong moral fiber, at least she had been so, until she was forced to act because of her stunning radiance and sharp features. A girl of 16 she was, when the first opportunity of playing a modest role in a tv series came her way. She was least interested as she had been doing exceedingly well in her academics. She had already set her goals of becoming a chartered accountant, unlike her mother, an actress of the 1970s, least successful and in debt, a drunkard who couldn't make it till her 60th birthday. She was very disappointed in ending up the same way her mother did. She ...

When I was a child I would think to myself seeing the beggars on the streets why are they not like me living in a house? Why are they wearing dirty clothes and why are they so downtrodden? But as I grew up I discovered that the cause of the projected poverty among the beggars were the lack of a piece of paper which is popularly called as "money". I gradually consoled myself thinking that they did not go to work like others did so they do not have a place to live in or good clothes to wear. But one day, I pondered upon this once again. This "money" which is a medium of exchange for buying and selling things has become a way of life for each and every human on earth except the enlightened! Something which we invented for OUR comfort, which was merely a piece of paper has been placed with such a lot of importance that every single person in his life is running behind. This paper currency has become so significant in our life that most of us reach the ...

It was not long back when the conservative lot, mostly comprising of huge producers, firms and individuals in India embraced westernization with open hands. In fact, they were very happy to let go of the Indian concept ‘reuse anything till it expires’ and adapted to the ‘use and throw’ culture. A decade back, whenever I visited any temple, I used to get back home with a small cup made of a huge dried leaf most popularly called ‘donnai’ in tamil filled with delicious offerings to the deity.  Whenever I accompanied my grand dad for a weekly shopping, he would carry a yellow cloth bag to deposit the groceries inside and if a mineral water bottle was purchased outside, the empty bottle will be carefully brought home for further usage. Presently, this traditional method of reuse has started to deteriorate and westernization is taking place at a larger pace than expected. The ‘donnai’ in temples have been replaced by plastic cups, shopping bags have become strictly  plast...

FEBRUARY 15th, 2012        What writing means to me... As lonely as a cloud, as boring as boredom itself, I was. I grew up as a typical child at school but a very hefty one, I am still the same. I managed to cheer people with my innocence but did not manage to make happy friends to last a lifetime because of my gross physique. I couldn't play as I had no playmates at home and my only hobby was to sit and watch tv. When I was studying in kindergarten, I used to visit a nearby shop with my dad. My dad was busy shopping for groceries and I engaged myself in observing things around me. The people who had mixed emotions that outshone on their faces, an old man cycling with a lot of strain, probably getting back home, the lady vendor with her dirty saree pinned up to her waist and squatting on the floor, selling vegetables, the autowala bargaining with his potential customer, the green trees which arched high with its countless leaves...

How many of us have cared to glance at the label before we choose a product to buy? Even if there are a few, how many of us have actually gone over the chemical content of those liquids packed and sealed in gorgeous plastic bottles and those bars wrapped in attractive boxes? A handful from a group of million consumers might have actually done this. When I chose to glance at the label of a shampoo I found at the supermarket, I discovered a lot of things that will turn out to be an unpleasant shock for most of us. Nearly most of the shampoos, soaps, cosmetic products, toothpaste and even packed food contain chemical elements called the ‘Methyl Paraben’ and ‘Propyl Paraben’ as a major constituent. They are nearly found in every product because they are used to preserve the packed content and they are very cheap and effective to use. The actual content added to the product is not displayed and therefore unknown to us. You may ask whats wrong about this? Most of the chemicals from ...

A short fiction based on the photo taken by Ramasamy Nallaperumal for the photo-post contest organised by The Chennai Bloggers Club and www.cuponation.com Cuponation, an online coupon store brings together A-Z online stores and makes E-shopping enthusiastic and really affordable. Make your day the best with www.cuponation.com. Chennai Bloggers Club is a team of creative and amazing bloggers who have reached heights through CBC.    "It was a hot day. I woke up early and tied to those chimes which spewed annoying jingles whenever I made a move. I was fed by the boy who fed me every day when he passed by our smelly corner to milk Valli. Valli is the newcomer to our little urban home. We have been used to living among bustling horns and punch-drunk roads.  I was on my way to be loaded with stacks of juicy sugar canes when that stocky  man came up with a weird thing on his hands which made clicking noises and gave out flashes of light when he pres...

I was wandering lazily into my world of thoughts, smiling thinking about the silly moments and seriously analysing my sorrowful past. I took my time in reviewing and rethinking what my thoughts were when  I had felt silly or happy or sad, and a stunning reality hit me like storm. The previous day, when I was in the beach supposed to be  spending memorable time with my parents, I had not really spent time with them, but wondering to my own self about the events of my past, about the people on the shores, about my friends who had insulted me in my past, or about those who had made me happy or the happening of an event which had made me sad or happy or about my future, uncertainities, promising returns , probable events that might not even happen in life. In reality, I was physically "in" the beach, but my mind and soul were racing into a zillion worlds, just like the waves of the sea rushing onto the shores.  And now even when I am lazing around on my terrace, look...

The yellow leaves sticking to the branches of the old tree were blowing along with the evening breeze.There were many happy children in the park, standing on the swings, drifting down on the slides, some fighting with the other, and some laughing along with their cheerful parents. And there were the balloon and ice-cream sellers catching up with their everyday business. A few yards away, there were two kids walking by the platforms of the narrow streets, through cans of trash,sprawling hags and street dogs.  They were secretly carrying small packets of white powder some of which had been delivered to a few children in the park. Those children had ,at first been bullied and forced to take such packets which they found to be quite mysterious. But once they started consuming them, they got addicted and their bodies shivered without it. They found that, they weren't themselves without it and they could do anything to have it, just to see the packet of opium in their hands. Initial...

It was 7:00 and an unusually early morning for me. I had a cup of tea in my hands and was simultaneously flipping the uncreased pages of the newspaper for that day. I am not a regular reader and I read news once in a blue moon. I promise I found the morning to be really plesant untill I opened that cursed pile of crap. Here goes, The headlines read: Delhi Gang rape victim dies, looking further down 'juvenile accused of rape' and on the side 'another 16 year-old victimised to sexual abuse on a public bus'. What has the nation really turned into? A nation of untolerable, obnoxious and lethal rapists? A nation of holes for the drunkards to dig into? or a nation of unparliamentary politicians who accuse innocent posts on facebook to be fatal crimes and lock those innocent heads up in rat-holed jails with rusty bars among other real victims? Or a nation that has fallen prey to a series of bloody trails, bomb blasts, huge monetary scams, victimised religious conflicts, ...

Being happy, being contented and helpful to others, making others around us happy are the rarest priced possession that a person can ever get. There are so many people in this world waiting to meet a person like that and they yearn to be so. But, people live a life of endless lies and active concealment, they never tend to accept what they are when other people comment on their behavior, they never analyse their own mistakes behind those comments, but their ego comes in front of them and casts a huge curtain and there they are, getting angry, getting irritated about the comments, getting hurt and defending themselves. Their heart throbs with anger, and always accepts only flattery or genuine praise. When a person praises them, highlighting their good qualities, they readily accept their words with a huge smile on their faces, but when the same person remarks upon their minuses, they retard themselves and the other person, they are bounded by the huge barrier of ego and makes the wh...

Dream as if u will live forever...Dream as if the whole of the world is in favour of you...dream till you drop... Set off aboard to the tough war of implementation...set your mind to the verge of consistency and then you will achieve what you desired...then you will once be in your most memorable moment....Don't lose track on what you have achieved ...admiring your temporary success... But put on your strides till the dark fears you, till failure drops dead at seeing you...till the stars twinkle only for you, till the universe is at your feet... Ward off your reluctance..wake your inner spark of fire and make it flame big in you...destroying your path to failure and make it a big bonfire ...Keep pursuing..keep on achieving....Let there be no end...no end at all through your journey to success......... Let flow the vital power in you.....which is consistently dormant....and let the mysterious voice of success swivel around your mind....let it conquer your thoughts and move your...

Life' s duties definitely bind one with their body.....and am not an exception! In this wide bivouac, we have so many things to see, admire, so many people to befriend and so much to experience....well, am in one of d compartments of this most admirable train of life sticking to my seat....and wondering whats going to happen next! Almost 20 years of our life is used to prepare about facing the next 40 years......and the next 20 years are wasted on the hunt for wealth and luxury.....and the last 20 years of our lives are spent mostly alone...in pursuit of a suitable company! And the last 10 years(if we are lucky enough) are spent in ailments!!! Of course, we need to be positively- faceted about life.....but we never know our purpose on Earth and we while away pretty much time in rejoicing and laughing at for some bizarre and petty humor! Living on this earth, we always go brooding over the dead past and bury ourselves over our uncertain future but never even make a glimpse about our...