Influence from God knows where

The first impression was not an impression at all. Just a person who walks into one's life to exist for sometime and then fade away. Somewhere along the way the talks made an impact. The thoughts were fresh, not quite like what was heard before. The force of character, though not obvious, reaches across. One had to sit up and take notice. Then little things catches notice. Soon, life is changed. One does not look at things as before. The way ahead is not straight. The scary by-lanes look inviting. When one realizes the destination is not written in stone ... Well, it's not even written on sand. One realizes any path is good enough. Going down that scary by-lane is no longer an adventure, it is part of the plan. One cannot reach the destination unless that path is taken.

Among all the good and bad the person brings in, the good stays on forever.

Excuses and reasons

"Tell me a joke."

"You are an intelligent person. Is that a joke?"

"No, that is a statement and a fact."

**********

"We had completed our work on that piece of art when she came and said it was incomplete. She painted some more and spoiled it. We had to redo it. When we asked her why she did it, she got angry and poured paint on us. That messed up one of our watches"

"Yes, I saw that too."

"You! But you are not supposed to be here at all"

"Hee hee hee"

**********

"How did the practice go?"

" Oh! It went well. Anyway, there's no way we can do better than this."

**********

"Ahhhh! My leg pains."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. My leg pains and I am unable to eat lunch."

"What is the relation between your pain and eating?"

"I am unable to sit and eat. I have had enough."

"Oh! So that is the reason. Eat eat eat."

**********

"All of you, sit on the floor."

"I will not. I am injured"

"SIT ON THE FLOOR."

"NO, I AM INJURED."

"Where?"

"On my hip."

"Okay."

"Isn't it time for games?"

"Games? But aren't you injured?"

"Oh! That I can manage."

Something to say

Can hear my insides say so
Can see what my outsides show
Voices in my head cry in woe
Surely through the midway
Could go away any day

What have I done yet
A few successes met
Still life is not set
To give it all away
Go my own way

Now that I am staying
What should I be doing
Where hypocrites are ruling
Maybe I should shut up
Watch others mess up

Isn't life a brilliant joke?
I don't listen to what I say
No quiet for me
All those words stuck in my head
Kept too long from the world
Get them out before it's too late

A house of cards after all

I have a weird relationship with English. I have no personal memory of my usage of the language in my early days. My sister tells me that a few of my relatives made me talk in English and laughed at my usage. Fortunately, I don't remember such incidents and feel no animosity to them (due to these incidents at least). The other memory of my usage of this language exists due to my attempt at story writing at the unripened age of eight. Many years later, I read these lines with embarrassment.  I remember being inspired by my readings of Champak and wrote about two boys entering a haunted house whispering something to each other. Of course, I did not know the word whisper at that point and wrote "A said to B slowly..."

I remember almost nothing of the English I learnt in my school and college days. I remember the story "The Malefactor" through which I understood metaphor. I got to know the existence of the word malefactor too (which does not mean male-factor though some women might believe they mean the same). The other memory stays close to my heart - the poem "confessions of a born spectator" by Ogden Nash. I was shocked to see the American poet describing me; a born spectator too lazy to even cheer the players. Other than these and a few terms like noun and verb, everything else is hidden in the mist of disinterest.

In my 20's, I fell in love with P G Wodehouse's writings. His humour and his use of language had and still has a huge impact on me. He has an irreverent attitude towards english and twists it the way he wants to. It's difficult not to laugh and love words such as

"What ho!" I said.

"What ho!" said Motty.

"What ho! What ho!"

"What ho! What ho! What ho!"

After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation.

Wodehouse paved the way for humour in my writings. He inspired me to break the few rules I knew in English. Since these writings were in the form of letters to my parents, I had an adoring audience.

At some point in my career, I moved into managerial roles and all my work focused on talking to people, creating presentations, excel sheets and documents. I was not bad at these activities but I was not very good either. I was in the 80 percent category and in a world made up of 40 percents acting 100 percent, 80 percent is excellent. Soon I became the "go to" person to create documents and presentations.

Thus the building of my tower of Babel began. My insecurities of the past ensured that I focused on the mastering English without focusing on its rules. I wrote from my heart, I feel and if it sounded right, I thought it was right. People around did not correct me but wah-wahed me ahead (Oh! BTW, that wah-wahed is my tribute to PGW). The tower went higher and I started writing a blog. Almost no one knew its existence but I loved what I wrote and the tower grew further.  The tower reached its pinnacle when I started writing poems. I felt I had come a long way and declared myself the emperor of the English land and my palace, the tower of ego that I had built over two decades.

And then I messed it all up. I decided to teach at a school. I ended up teaching in a school where every teacher is an expert in one or two subjects and English. Worse, the children themselves thought like literature graduates.  I felt like the characters in that movie who ended up "paaden" instead of "pardon".  Though there were minor mmmm-hmmmms and aah-haaaas initially, matters became grave when a young colleague trained her guns at me. One day I blurted out a unpolite instead of impolite and since then she hawks almost everything I say and write. I am reminded of the song "Every breathe you take" by The Police.

Every where you go

Every word you say

Every line you write

Every thought you think

I'll be correcting you

Oh! What a humiliating fall. To be treated thus by a person whose conversations largely consisted of "goo goo ga ga" while I was watching Chris Cornell sing "Black Hole Sun" ominously on MTV, is painful.

But like all clouds this one has a silver lining. I only have to find it to turn this fall into a rise. The evil ones of the 90s will never win over the 70s. We have The Beatles but you have to make do with the Backstreet boys. Ha! Take that.

Little words

The little one suggested “I am a plant and I am swaying.”  Another not so little one retorted “You are so little that you only have to stand.”  The little one was offended and responded with hurt in his voice “Oh! That is such a rude compliment.”

********

The speaker was talking on the ecstasy of watching movies.  He said “Who doesn’t love the thrill of seeing the dead calf in the pit!” The malayalee at the rear of the audience shrugged and said “What! What is he talking about?” His neighbours looked at him surprised and asked “You don’t know which movie that is?”  “No” responded the malayalee. “But it is a Malayalam movie” said the friends. The malayalee shrugged his shoulders and said “I don’t watch movies.”

********

The children surrounded the teacher and started talking.  Suddenly one of them asked the teacher "Why are so funny?". The teacher responded in an offended tone "I am a serious person". The children walked away laughing.

********

The boy walked up to the teacher. Hurt was written all over his face. He said in his sad yet booming voice "all of them are saying I am in love with her" pointing at a girl nearby. The girl looked up, shrugged her shoulders and said "I don't care".

********

The Frisbee missed the teacher's throat by a whisker. He looked at the boy who had thrown it and shouted "are you trying to kill?" Almost instantly the boy shouted back "no I am like cancer. I will kill you inch by inch".

********

"Can I tell you a joke?" asked the 10 year old innocently. "Sure" said the teacher. "You know there was this guy who wanted to put his wife's picture on Facebook. By mistake he put it on OLX. Tee hee hee." The teacher stared at the child and asked in a stupid tone "did it happen to someone you know?" The child's answer was prompt "I think it happened in Nepal or somewhere but then the news went to US and came back as a joke to India"

********

"I had ten pooris yesterday afternoon and you know what!"

"What?"

"My mother made pooris at night too"

"You had 10 pooris?"

"Yes"

"Impossible!"

"Really, I did. My father did not have his pooris and I had his too."

"How many pooris?"

"Many many pooris with thakkali chutney."

Being normal

Pressure that you build
When you try to be better than you are
Is so high
It makes you seem worse

You don't have to hide
Your bad behind your good
All the time
Let it show through the seams

It does not mean
You let the world observe you naked
Just make sure
You have a good look at your mirror

Bother not with
Advises bestowed by nears and dears
Try being normal
With your wise and vice

Krishna yesses and nos

I can't stand tall in this ocean all alone
I told to myself
But I couldn't help myself
To leap and beckon to the blue rays who seek  might.
I weep in the in the sober darkness for freedom.
Yes and No's might be words
But you don't benefit anything from a yes or no.