Arugudi

So there I was in Madras Cafe with my usual cup of extra strong coffee and a samosa, savouring every bite of the steaming potato masala stuffing. This had been my routine for quite a while now. A walk in the evenings worked like a charm to freshen up my visual and auditory senses, constantly complaining of my sedantary lifestyle. The only noticable change in my life of late, had been my weight, courtesy, the constantly busy mouth of mine.  All of a sudden, a voice bubbling with excitement explaining about a street race that took place a couple of days ago, cut through the normal decibel level of the room. A boy of maybe around eighteen was all pumped with his description. "Oh boy, he had swag. You should have seen his drift. It was perfect with the angle of the track. I bet he knows this shit too well..." said the boy, evidently impressed with this driver who according to him was the next Dominic Toretto. "This is the problem. Your generation has grown up watching the ...

I never understood what it is like to be a father, probably because I have not stepped into those big shoes as yet. But, I had never thought in a father's perspective until recently, over a cup of coffee, I decided to pick my father's brain about it. He has always been a rock in my short life. Never have I seen him shy away from his responsibilities nor back off from a fight. He often says, "Bravery is not a show of strength. It is the strength to stand for what you believe is right even when the tide is against you." In a casual conversation one day, I asked him about how he managed to learn the knack of fatherhood?  With a smile and his characteristic pat on my shoulders, he said, " You will learn this art when the time is right. Life has it ways..." A man of his word, my dad has always taught me to weather the storm until the time is right to beat it. When asked about this approach to life, his reply was not surprising at all. "A father always wants ...

Death is no bride For today its yours, come tomorrow mine Its all a desert of broken dreams With only shattered glass, to prove the essence of life Seizing the day is so big a game For today is mine but morrow unseen Mysterious steps or inflated myth Know not a man For none has yet seen. Unknown they fear,  and pray to its might As no eyes has seen,  nor heard of its roar For they believe it walks on all doors there is With a spring in its step To decide on thy fate.

And you sweet bird Lend me your voice For mine is so coarse That it slit open wounds Melody is a virtue, I never possessed For the nature of man, I never fathomed Sing divine, for the day is so new The morning so fresh, like the mead I just brew The toil and moil go unknown For they know not my plight and reasons I mourn And now I beg your voice, O'bird my dear Known to me,in my heart so pure You sing in your voice, my song O'bird For my voice is unheard, in a world so cheered Sing them my song, with a jingle of bells For my voice is so coarse, That it slit open wounds.

Her eyes took time to adjust to the darkness. The room was pitch black. The last ray of hope had diminished with the door closing with a soft click of the lock. A life of thirty five years had boiled down to this very moment. She felt her life was at a brink. Her body felt heavier than usual. Every movement felt like an effort. Her mind was unable to process the voices falling on her eardrum anymore. Her eyes were wet with tears. Yet, she couldn't brush aside the thoughts lingering in her mind. All she could think of was the smiling face of her husband who loved her with all his heart . For a moment, she felt the warmth of his hugs, her heart slowly started to melt.  She shook her head from side to side brushing aside any thoughts that could weaken her stand. She had decided and re-enforced it in her mind for the hundredth time, "That's it. It's all over." For the first time in a long while, she felt in command of her actions. Her desperation and helplessness had ...