When January 2016 bids goodbye…

Bidding goodbye to a heavy and responsible month. Overall, it was a good month. The biggest change the month brought to me is the capability to say ‘No’ to people. I always tried making people happier and feared of losing relationships when I say no. This month, I said no to people and obviously lost many of them from my life (all good ones), still I am happy that I am being myself.

I know where my money goes because I maintain a daily ledger. I know my professional and personal developments because I maintain goals. Here, I started writing on ‘The Blue Signature’ with an aim of developing my own writing style and also to measure my writing progress. My reading is also in progress. My struggle to gain consistency in doing things is gaining pace. I have flawed, yet better.

I look forward to February with optimism, planning more streamlined efforts. I set goals and plan to move ahead more voraciously. I have done these things before, but never met the goals fully. Why this proves fruitful this time? The reason is that I realized the true meaning of permanence. There were floods, accidents, volcanoes…But, I was rarely sensitive because those never happened to me.

On November 21, 2015, when I suddenly lost my father, I realized life cannot be the same. If I want to do, let that be now. Pappa was the strongest pillar of my life. Although we rarely communicated, I knew I could just run to him if anything goes wrong. It was that confidence that made me free to do whatever I did. Now, I realize, I am on my own. I have no guarantee that I myself would wake up tomorrow.

That thought haunts me. Hence, I am living life to its fullest. Doing the best I can! Pappa, your life taught me several things, now your death teaches me more! I miss you terribly and wish we could be together forever!

The lost tree…

There was this tree which bloomed outside his house. It spreads shades of green on his murky windows. The days when it gave deep green are the days when he liked it so much. He simply admired everything that is dark and gloomy.

There came a night when earth showed its shoddy rawness. The rain poured down heavily, thunder roared, splitting the sky with the brightest lightning streaks. He could not accept the sudden incense of the earth. He decided to stay inside, no matter how loudest the earth cried. The heavy day took him to deep sleep. Nothing troubled him, even the shriek voice of the open windows.

The morning was peaceful. The sun loomed out the cloudy sky. There was light spread everywhere. Everything was pleasant till he witnessed an unusual brightness falling into the house. The tree has gone, broken, with leaves burnt to dust. The green leaves no more existed to provide the shades to his windows.

He felt lonely. He felt something terribly amiss from his life. He couldn’t remember the day he planted it, nor about the occasion that made him plant it. The tree was there as far as he can remember. It was a part of his life, no matter whether he was aware of its presence or not. Every time he passed through the sides, the reminiscence about the tree troubled him.

One day he decided, ‘let me plant another one’. He did. He planted a tree, which did not take years to grow. Almost a year and the plant looked like a tree. He was happy. The shades of green will now continue to decorate his windows.

He consciously checked to enjoy the greenery of its leaves every morning. Most of the time, it made him happy. Sometimes, the small tree swayed directionless. It hits the windows and created broken creaks on the glass. The leaves sometimes turned yellow and created dirty shades. It sometimes shed its leaves, leaving the tree bald and bare.

He soon realized, this could never replace the tree which existed before. He missed his favorite tree. He decided that the new one doesn’t deserve his space. An axe neatly did the job. And, he continued to live in his memories.

A ‘workholi-day’ begins…

My late morning habit has once again troubled me. I was too late for office that I finally decided to take the day off. Perhaps it was a good decision too because I have a sore throat and running nose, which would calm down in a day’s rest. Although on leave, the workaholic in me has decided to work and has promised my boss to finish few works. I have a website content to write, a book to read, few news stories to write, research paper to edit, go out and hunt for a tailoring shop...So the day seems to be full.

Alas! I have heard people saying this..:)

The day started with a mixed vegetable soup, thanks to the friends who visit home with such instant soup packets. The breakfast was supposed to be the so called ‘vella aappam’, but has resulted to become a weird nameless aappam, a fault my mother points out on me. Never misunderstand, I did not make it. However, it is my fault because I did not get her the right vessel to prepare the aappam. Of any kind, the curry was good and we hardly care about the other specifications when we are hungry.

The breakfast got over so fast and I have more tempting things to eat, to say oranges, a stash of fried potatoes, etc. right on the table, which I am sure, are destined to rest in my stomach today. So, here begins another ‘workholi-day’!

Short and sweet…

You give up here. You give up there. You give up everywhere! That’s how we degenerate our values. I myself is a victim of this practice. As we grew up, we do not know how to correct it. It is one among the thousand other things that becomes a part of our habit. Few realizes the harmful effect of it and try to change. However, in spite of being aware, many of us continue this habit.

Besides this thought, nothing much troubled my head today. I was sick, yet attended office. 

The fear of revisiting the past…

An eventful week came to an end yesterday. It wasn’t hectic the way I expected. The first event was a business festival, totally new to me. The second event was an alumni meet. I was never a part of any alumni meet till date. Hence, I am too naive to explain the emotions associated with it. I always stay away from the past. Lesser are the days when I thought about them as well. Perhaps, I fear they would overwhelm me with emotions. Each day of my life has taught me a new lesson. Revisiting them would bring tears to my eyes, sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Of any kind, I prefer to stay away from tears.

In the alumni meet, I witnessed the overflow of similar emotions. I walked back to silence the moment I came out of the hall. As I walked through the green campus, wind pushing my hair streaks aside, I thought, “Am I walking away from the fact? Do I fear parting away?” That could be the reason why I do not make stable relationships in my life. I create an unseen and unsaid wall between myself and the person I interact, with a fear that he/she may hurt me once, either by moving away or by being too close.

Emotions make one less practical. I remember the 10-year old girl who scribbled in her diary, ‘never let emotions rule your world.’ And trust me, I never did. May be the moment I scribbled those words, it sunk deep into my heart that it became a part of my life. I carefully tread to not get emotional on anything. It helps me to stay strong and independent.

These stories apart, today is a holiday. Tomorrow is republic day, again another public holiday for us. I have things planned on my to-do list. Hope to make the days useful. 

The headache of dealing with self-proclaimed English language professionals

I come across people who think they are English language professionals. Their hobby is to correct every pronunciation of the conversing person. In fact, it looks like they listen to words and not the entire conversation. These people end up correcting grammars and spelling errors, even in the SMS people casually send (Basically, SMS intends to convey a message than to show someone’s language proficiency). These days the automatic dictionaries of the mobile phones give you weird spellings too.

Of any kind, these self-proclaimed language professionals irritate people. Many times, they do not realize that they are making enough of mistakes while using the language. Other people sometimes do not point out them. But, if you do not correct their errors, they end up thinking they are flawless. In case, if you point their mistakes, they will get offended, but it’s better than bearing his/her self-proclamation.

From an Indian context, English is not a native language and our education system does not teach the language properly. As the child grows, it picks up the language mostly by itself and in such cases, being error-free is unimaginable. The only way is to improve as the time goes. There is nothing to feel embarrassed when someone corrects your language. Remember, the person who corrected you is also not a pro. He/she is also on the path of learning.

Also, it’s never right to accept the corrections said by people as such. Better to cross check and use. I always felt that the best way to find a self-proclaimed language professional is to check his/her written English. Mostly, it would be filled with errors, and informal word and sentence usages, which he/she thinks is right. People employed in writing professions, like me also get erroneous. Hence, when it comes to language, do not trust anyone. If you are wrong, accept gracefully and improve.

PS: I was the victim of a self-proclaimed language pro today. It was happening to me multiple times that I decided to point his/her errors back (Of course, the person gets offended, after all, who cares?).

The true dreamer I love…

There is only a handful among the crowd who dream a job, strive for it and achieve it. After achieving, they strive to be the best in it, move ahead in career. I just love those people. In fact, the love and respect for them increase day-by-day because I live in the midst of a vast bunch of students, who either chose the course out of compulsion or they think it would pay them the best in the industry (Of course, no generalization intended). I always feel they should have been encouraged to dream about their own life during the childhood days. Let them dream so much, fall in love with their own life and get motivated themselves to achieve their dreams.

The reason for this sudden thoughtfulness is a friend of mine. She is one among the handful people I pointed out. She is a passionate journalist by all means. I watched her grow, applauded her achievements, and remembered her in my prayers. Recently, I came to know that she left her passionate journalism and has now moved into content writing segment. One cannot compare these jobs as each has its own parameters that make it the best.

Although reasonless, I truly felt sad and felt like asking her, “why this change?” Perhaps, I judged her wrong. Maybe she had a passion for something other than journalism, which she never revealed all these years. Perhaps, she wanted a fresh start from everything she did. I am quite an outsider to conclude. It is her choice and her life. Maybe I related to her because we made similar choices in life. Whatsoever, I miss a dreamer. I wish her a heartfelt all the best. 

Two new favorites: A Marketing Guru and a Jinnia

Today, I heard the world-renowned Marketing Guru Dr. Jagdish Sheth speaking at an event in my workplace. The 70-year old man was too witty, informal, yet informative. Despite of being a person from non-management domain, I could survive the six hours of business talks pretty fairly. Besides the usual work rush, the day had nothing special to offer. The read through Salman Rushdie’s Two Years, Eight Months and Twenty Eight Nights continues and I should say, “It’s interesting.”

The story exposes me to the world of jinnias, the female jinns; their lust, love, vengeance and more. As a child, I was too far from fairytales, but later I compensated it by digging most possible libraries. As I read Rushdie’s book again, I have an urge to read fairytales again. So that added another item to my bucket list. 

However, never mistake me, Rushdie’s story is not a fairytale. It has more serious stuffs to offer. It is a blend of history and myth with tremendous philosophy. Perhaps, I will share with you as I go through. For me, reading Two Years, Eight Months and Twenty Eight Nights is also about understanding the style of the writer Salman Rushdie. For the time being, let me go back to the book. See you soon!

Jump-starting another week…

Here comes another week. A week occupied with heavy works.

The morning went pretty energetic, both workwise and otherwise. Afternoon I had a surprise from Amazon that my order Ramachandra Guha’s ‘How much should a person consume?’ arrived to the campus. The book reminded me of my Manipal days when we struggled to read, understand and discuss the book in our Developmental journalism classes. The book played a major role in changing my perceptions about the environmental issues and hence, the book is listed as one of my favorites. I look forward to read it again in the coming days. Now, on my reading list is ‘Two years, eight months and twenty eight nights’ by Salman Rushdie. This would be the second book of Rushdie I’m reading and it’s much early to pass a comment on it. Evening was sleepy, but ended the day with shopping and freelance works. 

PS: My trial to become consistent continues. I have been successful today.

Witnessing the pompousness of an Indian lady…

Today, the morning began with a race to ‘hunt’ a medicine for my Mom. It was typically hunting because this particular medicine is available only in few medical shops across the place. It is a Sunday and 'fewest' among these ‘few' would keep the shops open on the day. After hunting for an hour at distant shops, I managed to find the medicine from a medical shop closer to my home. And that taught me the lesson for the day, ‘open your eyes and see what surrounds you!”

With that lesson being learned, I hurried to the railway station with a huge trolley bag – the journey back to my workplace. My Mom accompanies me and she is with a much satisfaction that she could buy coconuts and ‘Noorjahan’ rice (a kind of Kerala rice) from this home visit, two items she desperately missed since she shifted with me to Coimbatore.

The S5 compartment of Chennai Egmore Express was filled with students who must be returning to college after the Pongal holidays. Absorbing from the lesson learnt in the morning, I kept observing the people besides me, few times overhearing their conversations. From the blush of a college girl who got a huge surprise gift from her boyfriend (she was carrying that gift with her) to the old man nearby who was worried of his wife’s belayed pension, I was occupied in their world.

When the train reached Shornur station, I hurried outside to the platform to buy few ‘Little Heart’ biscuit packets along with an Elite chocolate cake and railway’s famous Rail Neer bottle. Little Heart biscuits, which once reigned the bakery windows across Kerala has now become a railway snack item, available only in the platform shops.

The journey had nothing specific till the train reached Ottapalam station. A family of three, a father,

a mother and a daughter entered the train. “Get up girls,” an authoritative voice turned our attention to the mother among them. It was their reserved seat and she was trying to clear the college students off the place. Jolting to the voice, they began emptying the place.

“What is the point of reserving seats if this is the case? People just don’t obey. The officials must be punished for allowing unreserved sleeper tickets inside,” she kept shouting as if she didn’t get her seats emptied. The husband was trying the ease his angry wife, but that ended up her screaming more. “You better ask TT when he comes,” she ordered him.  The rest of us looked at the pompous mother with a sense of disgrace.

Adding to the drama, she also displayed her multi-language proficiency by convincing her daughter to occupy the berth in Hindi and English. After few moments, they settled, allowing the rest of us to continue our peaceful journey. May be the pompous mother is too intolerant for a country like India.

Soon we ended our journey (of course with the pompous mother and her family getting down at Coimbatore station along with us), and reached the apartment where we stay. After a brief rest at the apartment, my Mom and I had a small shopping session, adding fun to a long day.

Three kinds of people I live with…

Relationships have always been trickier for me. Be it a love affair, be it with my parents, sister or friends. Either they end up being so close to me that I lose my freedom to say no to them, or it reaches to an extreme that they end up thinking me as stay-away-from-her. But something was always evident that I become inevitable in their lives somehow – to hate or to love.

During my school and college days, people were always keen on knowing what I would do next. My long tongue never had any scarcity of ideas, so I kept telling them some big ideas as if I am determined to do them. The fact was that I was a last minute planner and never ended doing what I always thought initially. Somehow, some of my classmates around me would end up doing what I said and I would stay sideways with an evil grin on my face. They would later come back to me and ask, ‘why didn’t you do that?’, and my answer would be a long silence.

To people, who are much closer, the relationship is more eloquent. They end up taking me for granted (literally), that they do not mind digging my mobile, walking into my space any time they want, demand me for day outs irrespective of my schedules etc. But, I enjoy them because I feel friends have the right to do it, except when the actions cross my privacy.

To add to it, I like people who are less formal compared to those who bug us with sorry, thank you all the time. To these people, I always ensure that I behave according to them. And, that is why they like me too. But, these people are dangerous because often ‘expectations arise out of them’.

Then there is this third category of people. They leave me free that they trust I know to make and mend my way. There is no expectation involved nor any rules. This also doesn’t mean that they understand me fully. They would take me as they understood, but the pressure of relationship never appears among us. Among all the three, my favorite kind of people are always those who leaves me free and accept me as I’m, irrespective of the kind of relationship they have with me. Those kinds of people do exist, but quite less in number.

Relationships are fun to watch and grow with. Each changes it color as the time goes. Analyzing them, thinking about the past, the wild imaginations etc. make life cheerful. They do make us live, more than mere exist. 

Another lazy day passed by…

The days of laziness continue. I watched the movie Gone Girl today. I read the book earlier and hence, knew the story. Thanks to my dear friend Rakesh who is always keen on gifting the best books to me. My only anxiety was to see how much the movie differed from its book version. To my surprise, it was more or less the same.

The rest of the day went sleeping. Towards evening, the thought that I should return to my workplace the next day rose me up from bed. This time, the journey was purposeful, with lots of things planned. Among them was the notion to purchase few household items, especially coconuts which are expensive in Tamil Nadu. As you know, it’s difficult for a Keralite to survive without coconuts. Our mornings to dinner go with relishing coconuts in food.

The evening went for shopping, packing and couriering items, ensuring a happy journey tomorrow. From Monday I’m back to a busy week ahead with plenty of events and festivals lined up at my workplace. 

A day of absolute laziness…

Source: Wikihow

So, let us start with today – 15 January 2016. The day is auspicious for people from the state of Tamil Nadu. They celebrate Pongal today. For me, it was a day of extreme laziness. I was on bed as far as I can remember, except for the few moments when I watched television and ate food. Oh! I ate even by watching television.

If you think, I was sleeping the whole day, then you are wrong. I was practically in my routine of thinking everything negative yet to happen in my life. I thought myself going crazy and be within the cells of Bangalore NIMHANS after my beau leaves me. Or I wished him good luck for his marriage with a random girl. I spoke to my late father. I told him how much I feel lost after his death. I told him how deeply his absence has affected me. I dreamt about living within deep woods in a wooden house, as read in the fairy tales. I visualized about decorating my room with books. I cursed about my habit of procrastination. I looked at my one year old niece with a sense of jealousy because she could smile with much innocence, which I could never do. I thought about our house, my lost childhood. I surfed through the appreciation certificates I received during my school days. And, wondered how good a student I used to be. I even made a striking comment in my head – “I was a good girl when my parents brought me up, I turned useless when I started growing up myself.”

Days like this are not new. It always happened to me. If there is one thing that I wish to change myself, this is it - days when thought tsunami hit me. If hit, it leaves me dead. Like every time, I now think about ways to get rid of it. And, as always, keep trying. Trust me, it still repeats! And, I am still the samurai who fights against it.

Lovely day, for only one reason – that I began ‘The Blue Signature’.

Randomness defines life...

Source: Internet

What is the reason behind starting a blog? I would say, ‘to empty your head’. Among the umpteen reasons one could present before you, this reason sounds the apt. Blue Signature is also created for the very same reason, but with a difference. This would be a space for me to empty my heart too. This is to pour out whatever comes to my mind, perhaps pointless to the extent that I may sound weird. But, these are just the thoughts, may or may not define me. Never underestimate, overestimate or expect! These are just the endless randomness I write, so that I can think free once I get rid of these from my heart and head.