Saturday, April 05, 2014

E is for Everness

Now, don't ask me why I would call this post 'Everness' - it might kind of tie up in the end, like it does sometimes, when I write without a definite path - more like driving in the dark. You see enough to keep going, but not enough to know where you are going. Everness should mean perpetuity- right? and that kind of represented what I thought of, when I thought of the letter E. A perpetual flow of ideas that begged for my attention. Enigma, Epicure, Energy...the list went on. Finally I thought, what better thing to blog about than the language I blog in? - I know, I is still going to be called 'Everness' but the catch is that I am going to rattle about English, my foster mother tongue.

I learned the English alphabet, long before I did my mother tongue. It was a lovely, large setting, my school - along a railway line. I didn't go to that school long enough to read Shakespeare and Shelly in my middle and high school, but I did go there long enough to fall in love with the letters and words of the language. Right around sixth grade, I smuggled an old diary of my dad and started jotting limericks of sort, taking extra pains and detours in the form of artistic liberties to rhyme. Some of them were okay, some were horrid - but I found a little following in my classroom and was very tempted to write a poem in the algebra paper after reading about Sarajoni Naidu's childhood. Somehow, though my ego was still hazy, unformed and raw, I lived in a belief that I was churning out masterpieces for that short span of time when I actually started to write. It took me some time, to understand and reevaluate my own halo effect that went with me where ever I went. Thankfully, I don't seem to love myself so much that I continued in that haze - or may be, just may be, I love the language more than I love myself and I don't mean it as a hyperbole.

An English speaking nation welcomed me with open arms, at the threshold of adulthood. I always wrote, even before this blog took shape a decade ago. I have pages of words, tumbling all over, tucked into my most precious possessions. "What language do you blog in?" People used to ask me - fooled by my tan skin and ethnic features. It was a miracle of sorts that a small town lass from the middle of nowhere in coastal Andhra Pradesh could actually blog in English. The fact is that for people in India, English is sort of a foster mother tongue - I didn't have English as my medium of instruction for the better part of my humble education - but I consider profusely blessed to have known and loved another language as much as I love myself and my mother tongue.

Everyone has a crux of their life. Mine was my sixth and seventh grade - I had a teacher - a demure Malayalee woman, who defined professionalism to the tee. She taught us bits and pieces of R L Stevenson, O Henry, Anton Chekov and Alexander Dumas and a little bit of unabridged Shakespeare. She inspired me more than anything else in my life all put together. She instilled in me the love for language and literature that doesn't fail me ever! I streamed through my humble challenges, finding solace in the womb of a language that wasn't my own. Today, my biggest defining moment in life is that I  teach and subconsciously mimic my teacher, hoping that one day, one kid somewhere, would find the same life long companion in words. "What language do you teach?" People ask me - I say "English" - "As a second language?" I smile and say "No"! - I smile, because, it startles me when I look back - the journey I had made with just those couple of defining years in my whole entire life. The rest, I learned - or may be - the rest came to me, without ever having to set a footstep into a university. I look back and an unmistakable joy and sense of achievement floods my insides - My words, my companions for Everness! :-)

Friday, April 04, 2014

Day 4 - D for Description

As a part of the the D day - I attempt to describe - so D is for description :)

 Drop dead Gorgeous - Her wide forehead frames the best of features - Doe shaped eyes, dipping sensuously in the corners, drawing the most exotic of shapes. Her irises, looking like saucers, dyed in deep brown, sport a glassy twinkle that makes one wonder if the color is naturally occurring. The whites of those peepers, accentuate the depth of her eyeballs, like fluffy clouds around deep  skies. Her nose, defined and pointy, stands like a landmark on a heritage site. Her full mouth with a slightly plumper upper lip makes her face wear the look of a perpetual pout - enticing as a woman's and endearing as a child's. The tanned skin akin to delicious caramel, like a flawless canvas, compliments those huge eyes. Locks of wavy black hair, like cascades of silk, ready to be woven, dangle heavily, framing her high cheekbones. Perfectly aligned teeth flash and hurriedly bring in those dimples for company, every time she graces a smile. Delicate long limbs sway, making the mundane mud path a ramp that ravishes her divine beauty. She is, indeed - a design done at leisure, a sketch that defines grace and drips elegance.

Wednesday, April 02, 2014

Day 3 - C for a Cluster

This got me thinking. Really hard! I thank and then thunk some more. It wasn't just one C that came to mind - from California to Closet, from Clutter to Cleanliness, form Create to Crush (as in near antonym of Create and the kind I had (and continue to have) for Sachin (Tendulkar) :-) Before you Cringe form my abuse of Capitals, I'll call in the content of this day's blog.

For those who had not followed me in the last year's challenge, and the year before that, I did a series of  verses starting with the alphabet of the day and then I made it a little hardcore and used the given letter over and over, in the beginning of a sentence and everywhere possible to key in my verse - on that lines, or by sheer habit (could habits be formed over a couple of years of doing the same thing for 4 weeks at a stretch, casue they add up to the said eight weeks ;-) ?) This year, I am really going to do an abstract one but for today, I shall punch in a little bit of this and that.

My friend S, the really fun one that has come very close to matching my wit and timing has this canny (not uncanny, mind you) ability of telling life's simple truths in unplanned, un complicated dialogue. "I feel like cleaning others' mess" her pearl of wisdom unfolded from our oyster of conversation - "But I let me house be. I somehow cannot stand other's clutter as much as I can stand mine" - Bingo! Does that ring bells? A few of them? For me, it does - not just for me alone but for many people that surround me. I think human beings have this uncanny (yes, uncanny this time) ability of somehow shutting themselves to their own faults - more often than not! " I cannot stand my own clutter" said no one - ever! Atleast, not aloud and not in my ear shot - ever! If you bar me that is - I did say it to myself in the recent past - and no, not aloud - not until now. And what resulted was a revamp of sorts that was like a little tempest in a tea pot - the tea pot in question, being our walk in closet.

For over a decade now - ever since we'd called this humble abode our home, we tried to metamorphoses and alchemize out clutter into something presentable. Make shift shelving was welcomed into the space as a result and was sprinkled with a generous dose of 'lack of handyman' skills by the darling hubby! (And how I am loving that he never reads stuff out of here unless I held him on gun point - even then, he only listens, or pretends perhaps, to be listening while I read it out) So, the pseudo Mr.Vila and Ms.Stewart did all they could to add space, cubes, shelves, shoe racks, hat boxes, rattan baskets and random lucite bins to declutter and organize. Years passed and piles added to the pointless possessions and the door was promptly closed for any curious onlookers - sometimes it was bad, sometimes it was worse almost making moi mimic the event of searching for a needle in a haystack if I had to look for a certain scarf or a clutch. I went into bouts of 'getting it under control' letting out frustrating cusses, purging, pruning and everything in between. I went to the verge of renouncing hand bags, silk, leather and even nail polish just in silly hopes of having the clutter in check - and we finally, one bright spring morning, decided to take professional help and in that process, each and every pin to party dress came out of the place. we did a demolition of what ever silly stuff we hung in there and had a prim and proper custom shelving built.

The end result was reveling - to see the clutter melt into order and the taupe walls beyond the crisp white cabinets promised years of organizing and arranging. For now atleast, it looks like it! But the whole point here is not the closet, or the clutter or even the cleanness that came out - it is just that we have our baggage, hidden or in display, disclosed or concealed and it is a nice thing if we start noticing what we shove under our own carpets before rallying around with a magnifying glass into our neighbors' living rooms.


Tomorrow would be the D day! Do come back.

Tuesday, April 01, 2014

Day 2 - B for Blogging

Baby steps, a decade ago!
Borne with utter love for words.
Lumbering around, etching Ponders,
Feint verses - gauche and graceless.
Building blocks of petty thoughts,
Scribbling senseless heaps of utterance.
Chronicles of progress,
Aging and ailing!
Records of hopes, and hopeless wailing.
Sonnets of the soul, Idylls of the spirit -
Heartfelt works of color and art.
Doodling words, tugging strings of feelings,
Jotting many a pieces of the heart!
Baby steps, still pitter and patter,
Emerging, evolving, warmly embracing,
Drafting dreams and dabbing reflections.

Day 1 - Letter A

This wasn't something that I saw coming - the A to Z challenge this year. In the recent past, My blogging had become kind of sporadic and I thought this might help me get regular at posting and therefore pondering often. I hope I have it in me to keep at it till the end! :)

I do not have a theme - as of now - so it is safe to assume that this is going to be an asymmetrical attempt at achieving the goal...

A is for many things that speak to me and touch my heart. My kid Aarti, my art, my attempts at writing poetry, prose and everything in between. A is also for arbitrary, amateur and attempt! So I'll wrap it off with a little verse, an absolutely awkward one at that.


The moment, you see askance
Those amber irises flicker with amor.
Heart skips a beat, thumps in the chest!
Having a life of its own.

The flash, you reach of for my hand
Holding it tight in your firm fist -
Time freezes in your brawny grip
Somersaulting in glee!

Your auburn tresses, ruffling in the air
Makes me gasp for breath..
In those eyes, that grip  
Those locks of curls
Lies my eternal bliss - 
My undying admiration.