Loneliness

Remember, we tread this path many a night?
Night after night, we had tales to tell.
Tales about us, repeated hundreds of times.
But every time, we broke the stillness with our laughter
The nervous stillness of the gloomy earth,
Awaiting the golden kiss of its lover moon;
That tender touch which made every tip of grass
To rise up in delight like hairs on our skin.

Now, when I walk alone, I remember those nights.
And I wish I could laugh the way we did.
Or I wish there be a storm that blows out your thoughts from me
Like the desert storm that purges the past.
New dunes to be formed, and new footprints to emerge,
Burying the ones that it bore before.
Then I feel, despite the pain it gives, let your thoughts stay in me
For I become lonely, when even thoughts desert me…..

Adam and Eve

When my wife (sometimes) quarrel with me, I say this story to her as to why women quarrel with men frequently. I don't know whether you have already heard this story - any way let me share it with you.

According to The Bible, God created (the first woman) Eve from (the first man) Adam's ribs. Let us go back to the time when God created Man. God saw that Adam was feeling lonely - He felt that Adam requires a companion.

Now our story starts from here. God put Man (Adam) to sleep. He performed a surgery on Adam and took out one rib from him. He then stitched up Adam who was fast asleep. God decided that let Adam sleep for a while before he is woken up again.

As far as we all know, God used this particular rib to create Eve; however the actual events took place something like this:

It was a difficult surgery, and God found Himself exhausted. He called Gabriel (the Angel - is God's chief deputy), handed him the bone piece and asked him to take care of it till He returns from rest.

Gabriel waited there for a long time with the bone piece in one hand and watching the sleeping Adam. As time passed, and there was no sign of God, and he too felt sleepy. He gradually entered in to a slumber.

Enter Lucifer (the chief of Devils). He immediately estimated that whatever Gabriel is holding should be something very special (since Gabriel is very close to God). He snatched the bone piece from Gabriel and ran away.

Gabriel woke up from sleep and ran after Lucifer. After some running, Lucifer jumped into a small hole. By this time Gabriel had grabbed part of Lucifer's tail. Seeing that he had no other option, Lucifer escaped leaving part of his tail in Gabriel's hands.

Now Gabriel was in a fix. If he failed to return Adam's bone piece to God, he feared that God might turn him into another Lucifer (as had happened earlier with some of his colleagues). What was available with him was a bone piece from Lucifer's tail. When he heard God coming towards him, he quickly peeled off the skin from the tail piece...

...After some time God created Eve. He found that Adam was happy seeing his companion.

...and men and women happily (?) lived ever after.

Love Jihad & some serious thoughts about religion

Today, I had a chat with my old colleague, a young girl who speaks in Valluvanadan vernacular. She told me “I made a mess of my life, etta.”

When a young girl calls you “etta” innocently, how can’t you be her responsible big bro? So I lend both my ears to her as sincerely as I could.

She had known a guy since she was in 2nd std (Grade), who naturally became her best friend, until he proposed to her. She had no second choice, but to accept it at cloud nine.

Like any typical Indian Love story, after a dozen of melodious duets, the climax is set for tragedy (I hope there will be an anti climax, where they both join together at some airport). She is a Hindu and he is a Muslim – A perfect setting for Love Jihad!

Though her parents stood by her choice, his parents disagreed. They could accept her only as a Muslim.

She asked me for advice. I had nothing to give, but to hide an aching heart.

She said "I am good at silent weeping, but my tears vehemently defy to stay where it should be". (I wish I could recollect her words for you, it was more poetic than what I put here.)

I bid farewell to her with a kind of pain in throat with which one comes out of theatres after watching a tragic love flick.

For some time, I thought about her tears, about her pain, about love and religions.

Why do Muslims insist on marrying only Muslims?

After all, who is a Muslim?

The Arabic word “Muslim” means the one who consciously surrendered his free will before the Absolute God. It is just like the sun, the earth, the moon, the stars and galaxies, which surrender to the laws of motion set by God, the human beings surrender his life to the will of God. Ultimately every thought, every action of human beings should become God-centric, that is what the word "Muslim" mean.

Every major religion insists that he highest plain of human thought is the belief in Absolute God (Monotheism). According to Hindu belief, this is the highest rank a person can achieve, as stated by Dr. S. Radhakrishnan, the great philosopher and India’s first Vice President, in his book “The Hindu view of life”. He writes:

“Hindu thoughts believe in the evolution of our knowledge of God... the bewildering polytheism of the masses and the uncompromising monotheism of the classes are for the Hindu the expressions of one and the same force at different levels. Hinduism insists on our working steadily upwards and improving our knowledge of God. 'The worshippers of the Absolute are the highest in rank; second to them are worshippers of personal gods; then come the worshippers of the incarnations like Rama, Krishna, Budha; below them are those who worship ancestors, deities and sages and lowest of all are the worshippers of the petty forces and spirits'”

And while addressing the Worshippers of the Absolute, The Quran says “You are the Best of peoples evolved for mankind - enjoining what is right and forbidding what is wrong”.

If you look at it, the God is ONE for the entire human kind and, all religions talk about the same God.

But are the Muslims we see around us “True Muslims” (ie, those who surrendered their will to ONE God of entire humanity and universe)? I believe not. Muslims and Hindus failed here miserably to scale up to the highest spiritual level. They have surrendered their will before bodily desires, worldly pleasures, and in the fight for the survival of the fittest. Where are the highest ranking human beings? Where are the best of peoples?

In a God-centric world it makes sense for people to associate with the highest ranks or the best of peoples. But how do we qualify for this position? Every act of us, every thought of us, leave us among the lowest (even lower than animals).

In a self-centred world, what is the point in people of one sect considering themselves as highest ranking or best of peoples and looking out for the people of the same sect alone for marriage? Aren't they all following the same path of materialism? What does it leave behind, but echoes of silent weeping and drops of tears shed by innocent lovers?

I wish I could advise my Valluvanadan friend. But I dare not tell her something when I find myself lacking. I will have to climb up from my self-centered world to that highest plain of God-centric life before I could give her some advice. Till then I will have no advice for those who ask.

FACE OF ASLAM

I will share the story of Dr. Aslam, a dentist from Malappuram. My wife told me about him when I visited her in Mangalore while she was doing her PG in Medical College there. Aslam was an old student in the same college and had visited there once, a few days before my visit. He was my wife’s classmate in school; an energetic and charming personality who had a lot of fans from both sexes in school.
We couldn’t meet, but spoke over phone with a hope to meet soon. Soon after, I left for UAE in 2008 (for the shortest pravasi life of any one amongst us). Aslam was already there, working in Sharjah, near National Paints R/O. He called me once and offered help for the newcomer. Still we never met, but thanks to ETISALAT, we became so close, our interests were quite common, our thinking were similar…and naturally, a strong bond developed between us. But, still we never met.
Later, when I got a few days off together before my departure from UAE, I decided to meet him, but his phone was switched off (He was on a short vacation in Kerala). I left UAE without meeting Aslam. While I was settling down in Kannur, I got a call from him saying he too had quit UAE for good and was planning to start his own practice near Malapuram. A few weeks back he invited me for the inauguration of his clinic. I cudn’t make it as I was tied up with some personal commitments and I promised to meet him next time when I visit Malappuram. But unfortunately, I couldn’t keep my promise during my next visit to Malappuram on EID. It was a short visit and he was not in station too.
And today, 25th October 2009, I was away from home to attend a conference, reached home by 7 pm. And immediately after reaching home I received a call from my in law to give me the news “ASLAM MET WITH AN ACCIDENT & ON THE SPOT….”
A guy who had many visions, unfinished dreams…left everything behind … I never met him…and I will never meet him again. I could have visited his home…but decided not to. There was a picture of him I framed in my mind, though I never met him. I don’t want to superimpose his mutilated face over it…

A story of two friends

A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand:

TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.

They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath.
The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:

TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE.

The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, 'After I hurt you,
you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?' The other friend replied
'When someone hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it.'

LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE!!!

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.

A keen observer

Sony, indeed, is a sharp observer. Even as a boy, he was; a silent observer. He silently observed, when nobody else did, Jean teacher’s anger boiling before it spilled out to leave 5 red marks on Kochu Muthalali’s oily face. He observed, when nobody else did, the forecast of a massive heart attack on Magic Dancer’s face while the dancer was performing for us on stage. And he observed, when nobody else did, the abuse of “But” and “then” in my writing.

That's what I call keen observation. Thank you, Sony. With you, my friend, I can throw away my mirror.

But I think, the naturality is lost when you become conscious of your style as a writer. So I would rather let this style remain in me, like black moles on my forearms, or a small scar on my back (My identification marks as given in my SSLC Book), than becoming artificial.

But your comments mean a lot!

Deira Clock Tower,Dubai in Melbourne, Australia!!!

Wondering what's this?? Well, exactly what we saw last evening!!

Hey...hey....hold on..don't let your thoughts go wild!! Let me explain the scenario which lead me to write this blog!

Movie: Main Aur Mrs.Khanna
Starring: Salman Khan, Kareena Kapoor, Sohail Khan

We were watching the movie at Grand Cineplex. Was quite an OK movie, nothing too fablous about it. Beautiful locales, nice songs...Even the Melbourne Airport was quite nice to see. Then came up the intermission.

Right after the intermission, as usual, there was a twist in the movie and we were watching intently to see how the story would trun...the hero returns to Melbourne to see his wife and take her back with him to Singapore where he has secured himself a good job. Suddenly there's the Deira Clock Tower round-about being shown!! We even see the famous articulated RTA bus!!!

Wait-a-sec!! Wasn't the hero in Melbourne?? Where does the Deira Clock Tower come in then??

What a folly!! Did the director of the movie feel the audience would be idiots not to spot this?? This is so ridiculous!!

How could the director have surpassed this folly??? I wonder if this is the beginning of the downfall of Indian movies which is already in bad shape!! We needed a Danny Boyle to shoot a movie and  only then  did Rasool Pookutty and A R Rahman come to the international lime-light. What's wrong with the Indian directors?? Have they lost their ability to create a movie which can be of international standards?? Have they decided to make movies like Main Aur Mrs.Khanna with such disgraceful errors!!

Come on guys, I think we definitely need to raise our voices against such insanities. What's your say?? Would like to hear your comments on this.

മമ്മൂട്ടിയോ മോഹന്‍ലാലോ?

This is like a chicken or egg question. You many think you are entering into an intellectual exercise to prove your point, but all you do is “waste precious time”, I bet.

My friend, Aliyan Thambi is a self proclaimed hard core Mohanlal fan. But I seriously doubt he has soft corner for Mammooty. Anyway, I have made it a point ever since we met that I should always take the position opposite to him, no matter what. Though we shared all our inner secrets with each other right from school, we always kept this rivalry alive. When we are at peace, he sometimes tells me “I think we became close friends now”. I reply, looking at a distance and as slow as I can “You know what, I think we always were”. Then we go back to take our positions again.

Though I don the lungis of a Mammotty fan before him, I hate this entire fan fair. I feel like kicking their butt when I read about the envoy of Land Cruisers and Limousines on Dubai streets. “Idiots!” That’s how I flush out my anger (jealousy?).

My reason is, the moment you become a fan, you stereotype a talented actor. You only realize the tragedy, when you see the beggars coming your way. If you have a close look at them, your neurons might take you to the pages of "നാനാ”, “വെള്ളിനക്ഷത്രം” or “ചിത്രഭൂമി” stored in the cerebrum of your brain. They were once cheerful “Producers” of these formulaic superstar movies, the names of which even a hard core fan like Aliyan Thambi would prefer to forget.

Recently Mohanlal lamented, when some hooligans vandalized the sets of his movie in Aluva, about the loss it could make to an industry already under crisis. There is a crisis in Malayalam Film industry. I think it is not because of the advent of TV or pirated CDs. It is because of people like Aliyan Thambi, who go to theatres with banners, Peepees and chendas, just for their hero and not for the movie.

It appears to be harmless fun. But I disagree, not because Aliyan Thambi is on the other side (may be that's the primary reason). This human nature, to see things at its periphery without going deep inside, is the root cause of all major problems that we face today, for example Communalism, familial tensions, individual stress…..

That's why I tell it is neither Mammooty nor Mohanlal we should celebrate, it is the characters they play. We should go deeper inside.

In life, it is not the body that we should always think about for joy, we should have a little deeper insight. Our body is just a periphery, the real lasting joy comes from our soul.

Though he might need some digestive pills to take this philosophy in, I hope Aliyan Thambi will agree with me. After all, we have always been friends, real close friends!

My weekend ends here….. Till we meet again….. Peace be to you all!

Vazhipokkan, who ?

Dr. Feroz hates liars. He asks me why I should hide my real name. I tell him, I am not hiding my name, but I am just using a pen name. He is not convinced. He says he hates people giving comments anonymously. I hate that too. I want people to stand upright and look into my eyes when they talk.

There are threat mails from “Katha Kazhikkum” and “Paashanathil Krimi” in our group mail. Though it is fun, there is always a sense of desperation when human curiosity fails to be satisfied; ie., to find out who is behind something.

I regret the moment I decided to be a Vazhipokkan, but my intention then was to be a passer by to this site and drop some comments now and then, like what a jealous crow does when you wear a new shirt.

I almost give up on this idea of pseudonym. But Dr. Feroz is kind and soft hearted (ask anyone for proof, any of his patients, …. , any girl – in reverse order, for better results), so he finally gives his nod for me to hang out as a Vazhipokkan.

I guess, you all could recognize‌ me from my earlier post. Just in case you wanna be sure, Dr. Feroz is just an email away, not a mile away (that's his Gmail punch line). Also, he advises me

“ഉത്തരമില്ലാത്ത ചോദ്യങ്ങലെക്കാലും മറു ചോദ്യങ്ങളില്ലാത്ത ഉത്തരമാണ് നല്ലത്”.

I agree. What else do you think I can do?

An Email from Binu

When I posted my poem “The Magic Dancer” in this blog last night, I wanted Binu to read it, for it was he who introduced me into reading. But Binu has not become a follower of this blog yet. So I thought of sending him an invitation. Then I thought it was long since I had written to him. So I decided to write him an email.

In school his ambition was to read through James Hadley Chase. And inspired from it, he even wrote a short story on similar lines. I don’t remember the theme now, but I remember the girl’s name…. Cindy (some basic male instinct?)

Binu was our hero then. The best football (soccer - for our guys in the US) player we had till the idiot box fooled us to forget that game and adopt‌ cricket in its stead. Then he became our fastest bowler, who gave me some red bulges on my legs which emptied my grandma’s tiger balms.

He was the one, who introduced us to pop music and baggy pants; and he was remembered by all when Michael Jackson died (or was killed); For us Michael was Binu or at least his close relative, as reflected in Roopesh’s condolence email with the subject “Binu’s Brother in Law dies”. I guess Binu was not upset; he has no sisters (though he had silent teenage crushes, he never bothered to make them his sisters).

Binu, to me, walked ahead of time. May be we too did, walking beside him - that’s the diplomatic way of telling that we aged too early. I get this feeling, sometimes, when I put my thoughts across to my wife, who then looks at me as if she was listening to philosophy from her grandpa (though she does not remember looking at them in flesh and blood). The wonder that lingers in her eyes often‍ asks me “From which century are you, Mister?”

There is a reason why I tell Binu walked ahead of time. He read academic books on Allopathy when we were in 8th std and talked like a pro which inspired some of us to become Doctors (I was impressed too, but I had little confidence in me to imagine myself in Dr. Yousuf’s old gray suit).

Binu, together with Gokul and Feroz, thought about making a movie in 5th Std, which they named “Friends”. And I even wrote my first lyrics for our pop band BAG (Read Binu Ashfaque and Gokul) which we formed and wound up in 8th std. Coincidently, the name of the song was also “Friends”. Mmmm…. What else can you think for name, when you do something jointly at that age? Even Siddique-Lal thought the same way, many years later :) And a soap opera on HBO was also named after our original thought !!!! :)

I am afraid I will tire my hands if I start writing what Binu meant for us…..

I did not write much in my email which I sent him late last night. But I just attached three poems I wrote of late and dedicated to him with these words “To my friend with whom I began my intellectual pursuit”

And much to my delight and to add on to my nostalgic pain, I got a reply from him today early in the morning (if you can call 9 AM on a weekend that way).

He wrote :
“You made me very emotional my friend. It took me to a time when we were walking aimlessly along kottamaidhanam. Time between 1985 to 1989. God is Great! He has given human beings feeling of nostalgia……..”

The Magic Dancer

The Magic Dancer came on stage
With a whitened face, and a glittering golden sleeveless attire.
Making stiff moves to the Jhankar beats,
He showed the crowd many a trick in as many moves.

To the dancing tune, he held up his hand
And brought it down with a flower at its tip.
He stretched the flower to turn it a stick
And with every twirl he doubled the stick.

“Magic Dancer……” cried the crowd.
It is the glitter in their eyes that makes him move.
For lack of confidence could dampen his drive
And a moment of distraction could ruin his show.

Many more tricks he showed his crowd
Without failing his dancing steps.
Some watched his feat with utmost awe,
While others thought it’s no big show.

Cruelest indeed are those eyes; which fail
To see the years he toiled to perfect his act.
Those eyes haunt him when he leaves the stage
But he moves on till the last glitter fades….

A small story with a mighty moral - take a read and send in your comments :)

A group of graduates, well established in their careers, were discussing their lives at a class reunion. They decided to go visit their old university professor, now retired, who was always an inspiration to them.


During their visit, the conversation turned to complaints about stress in their work, lives and relationships.

Offering his guests hot chocolate, the professor went into the kitchen and returned with a large pot of hot chocolate and an assortment of cups. Some cups were porcelain, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite. He invited each to help themselves to the hot chocolate.

When they all had a cup of hot chocolate in hand, the professor shared his thoughts.

“Notice that all the nice looking, expensive cups were taken, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones.”


“While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress.”

“The cup that you are drinking from adds nothing to the quality of the hot chocolate. In most cases it is just more expensive and in some cases even hides what we drink.”

“What each of you really wanted was hot chocolate. You did not want the cup . . . but you consciously went for the best cups.”

“And soon, you began to eye one another’s cups.”

“Now friends, please consider this . . .

“Life is the hot chocolate . . .your job, money and position in society are the cups.”

“They are just tools to hold and contain life.”

“The cup you have does not define, nor does it change, the quality of life you are living.”

“Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the hot chocolate Life has provided us.”

Always remember this . . . . . . . . . . Life brews the hot chocolate, It does not choose the cup.


The happiest people don't have the best of everything.

They just make the best of everything that they have!!

Live simply . . . Love generously . . . Care deeply . . .Speak kindly . . .

Leave the rest to Life. ~ and remember ~ The richest person is not the one who has the most, but the one who needs the least.

Enjoy your Hot Chocolate!!
 

Let's blog!!

Hi buddies,

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