My Little Preacher

Weekend is that part of the week, which is ideally meant for leisure, spend time with family, friends and very importantly for sleeping. It is like the tiniest speed breaker for you to slow down in this fast moving, routine, neck cutting life of ours. But, here I was totally unaware of the small awakening within me. Gautham Buddha was enlightened sitting under the shade of the Bodhi tree, and here I was in an open sports playground for my Enlightenment.

Saturday, Sundays are usually the busiest part of the week for me; the whole family is at home (mostly expecting some new delicacy on the table each time they walk up to the table). Apart from the usual cleaning and dusting, I also teach classical dance to few kids in the locality. And to add to all this I do get away with little time to roam about in the surrounding area with my husband and kid.

One such Sundays I was out with my spouse and daughter to a sports ground of a renowned college nearby. My husband generally prefers that our daughter plays more of outdoor games as she is just 2 and a half and we make it a point to carry a plastic ball or a football along. The place is filled with a few athletes practicing shot put, discus, etc and few practicing football. Amid all of these huge gentlemen, my tiny little daughter was drifting along the wind to kick her stone weight football. My husband as usual was guiding her and showing her few moves and funny tricks to make her laugh now and then. I generally am just a spectator to the whole show and rejoice the evening breeze. The trees around the ground make it more scenic and beautiful with a drowsy weather that we are experiencing these days.

Suddenly out of nowhere she appeared. I dint see her walking into the playground, probably because I was engrossed in nature’s beauty, or maybe she dint want me to see her. She started playing with my daughter’s football; initially as a typical mother I felt it to be a nuisance. Later I realized she was totally indulged in the play and was helping my daughter learn too. I later called her to know her name. Madhavi.

Madhavi is a happy go lucky street smart sweet daughter of a construction worker. Her mother tongue is Telugu. Both of us couldn’t understand each other’s language but there was an immediate connect between our eyes. She couldn’t get my daughter’s name right too, but she enjoyed playing with the football.

After an hour’s play all were tired and we had to head back home. My kid and Madhavi waved their goodbyes to length. As I was rushing my daughter, I saw Madhavi’s eyes. They were stuck to the Nike football in my husband’s hand. As lightening strikes I realized the pain childhood can give you just for the sake of a ball. Her eyes, which were free of any sorrow or fear so far, only seemed to yearn for this. I realized that though we talk about giving our kids, education, nutritious food, safety, there are loads of kids out there with nothing and no one to care about. Imagine the plight of poor Madhavi if she had to ask her parents to buy a ball. They could not afford regular food properly; let alone a toy to play.

I wanted to give away the football so much, but it was my husband’s favorite. I couldn’t ask him, and not even leave the place without watching her eyes brighten up. That’s when I was enlightened. It is not enough to talk about and feel altruistic, it is about to put things in action and mean what we say. Which again is so difficult? We live in such a society that we cling on to material stuffs and forget our values when it is most needed.

I and my husband went back to the same ground the next day with a new ball we purchased for Madhavi, but we couldn’t find her. We had to leave the ball with the construction workers security head, who assured us that he will hand it over to Madhavi. He was very thankful for our gesture. But I missed the bullet, I don’t know whether it actually reached her, I missed the glitter in her eyes.


Posted by on August 4, 2014 in Uncategorized



Make ways to flush it out,
But it seldom does its work
The heart says this is not true
But the Brain says this will stay
The feeling of knowing someone skin deep
Or understanding just the skin
Watever it takes to do this all…
However love will stay.


Posted by on March 22, 2011 in Heart Felt (Poems)



She dreamed of him,
He dreamed of her

The way he walks dancing to and fro
The way she sits with fingers warming her knees

The naughty smile and the glitter in the eyes
The shy appearance to the world and the thoughful gaze

She dreamed of him beside her
He dreamed of her playing in his lap

He amuses her with the talks that take her heart away
She utters the verses, first time in his life

Walking to the shore and gazing at his sport
Running to the theatre, the ballet wasn’t so important before

She sat beside him, he sat beside her
Under the gulmohar, hands entangled
Her arms around him, his fingers on her belly
They dreamed about them,
The love that was yet to come.

1 Comment

Posted by on March 15, 2011 in Heart Felt (Poems)



1. BA Lit Tamil graduate riding an auto rickshaw
2. Speaker attached to the wall of a school compound on Tuesday morning.
3. Target 12 Lakhs
4. Tackling a confusing and painful colleague
5. Tunisia teaching a lesson
6. Desperately thinking bout a make-over
7. Reading a book that confuses me – shud I read or shudnt I, is loving someone wholeheartedly possible or impossible, is sex a sin or not…phew
8. A friend got engaged, got to know bout it after the whole world
9. India vs England – World Cup match tie: Why did I even stay awake till 11pm??
10. Dancing to the tune of Sheila ki Jawani
11. Studying for exam-Organisational Behaviour; Freudian Theory talks bout the Id, Ego & Superego.
12. Pani puri, bhel puri, sev puri, ragada patis hovering over my head.
13. Faculty not available
14. First Earthquake, then Tsunami in Japan

Hmmm Random events in a random life of a random muggle 😛


The Cage

The box was full,
And she knew it all;
The open locker,
The repercussions and shocks;
She was not an ignorant seahorse,
Nor the innocent dove;
The name could have been similar,
But Pandora was not what she was;
With the box open in her palm now,
And the fragrance spreading through;
She weeps for the destiny that unfolds,
For a mistake she already knew.

1 Comment

Posted by on June 5, 2010 in Heart Felt (Poems)


Dum Dudum Dum….

Oh the title…I see…nothing much about it…it suffers from what people call Writer’s block :-)Caught me haan??? Perfect…the condition is same here…I believe I am suffering from writer’s block. Not that I am a great writer or a poetist. Its just that my blog speaks nothing much of me these days.
I gather too many thoughts…while travelling, while cooking, while watching television, while watching my new found love (Srishail, my nephew) grow up…but putting them into words has been much of a task. I cannot even blame my poor brain for not producing enough stuff, coz it does help me, but my heart gets demotivated even before the coding starts.
I just read on wikipedia that, there are many reasons for the same, ranging from depression, physical illness, “broken relationship”, lack of inspiration and so on. I can surely delete the first three options. Lack of inspiration is also not the reason that suits me, coz if I had to find an inspiration, then there are dozens around and its my ignorance that doesnt let me get inspired.
So to just sum up my writer’s block thesis, I would like to add some more reasons to the existing ones on wikipedia, they are as follows:
1. A working relation (concentrating too much on a person)
2. Tiredness (You have the thoughts in hand and want to write, but its 11 pm and all you know now is to sleep)
3. Lack of creativity (Your brain has processed a topic for you, but the heart refuses to budge)
4. Boredom – I guess this should be one of the “top priority” causes. What say?
Wonder, if ever Shakespeare suffered the disease??


Posted by on March 21, 2010 in Thats Me and my Thots



Words seek expression,
Or expressions seek words….
Love translates emotions,
Or emotions translate to love….

1 Comment

Posted by on March 21, 2010 in Heart Felt (Poems)