Its tough having an heart...

We are all living a life. We wake up every morning in an attempt to live it. How easy is it to be doing that? How many questions are we asked by our heart every second? Is it this I want? How do I get it? How do I impress? Should I be doing this? Why shouldn't I? What will make me happy? Why is this making me sad? To how many of those we have answers to. Living is not very easy. Living with an heart, constantly expecting something from us, is certainly not very easy. One who has had control over it, has never been unhappy in life. But one such is no mortal.

Everyone's heart is a crook which cheats itself to a big fall. Once it gets what it desires it multiplies what it needs, while once it fails to get something, it hits back on us to put us in doom. It brings sadness in the name of happiness. It gives happiness in the name of falsity. It is the reason for our world to flourish and will be the only reason for the world to crumble. The world is indeed too small to the size of the heart.

If it can do what it is supposed to be doing, pumping blood to the organs, we wouldn't be having so much to think about. It can drive us mad working up different permutations of questions and answers in no time. Our brain is supposed to be the master of us. The mind, though, is the perfect slave to the heart. How many times rational thoughts lose their case to an emotional heart. Every single time, I would say. If we had tried to keep our heart away from our everyday problems and give the mind its way, the problem would solve itself, I bet. Oh yes, the problem wouldn't have occurred at the first place.

This being as tough as it can get, it makes it even tougher by giving us joy to handle. Pleasure of women for a man and that of men for woman is a joy which knows no bounds. No, I haven't seen one who can handle it too well.  Joy of success, not good either. To keep it short - every heart knows to laugh and cry, both of which is injurious to life.

But hey, what do we do without an heart? without emotions? Whatever makes the heart tough to carry is the beauty of it all. What is its weakness is its strengths. Without it we are made into walking machinery. All what the heart has to offer is bundled into a term called 'life'.

The times our heart cries and craves become the most memorable moments of our enjoyable lives. The single tear drop dripping down the corner of the eye conveys the very beauty of life. The show of teeth beneath the lips, each time, signifies the purpose of our birth in this world. We may not need brains to lead a life, but without heart there is no life. 

We shall have to take 'heart' in everything and not lose 'heart' in anything to lead the best possible lives. One's heart must be able to accept anger, pain, joy, sorrow, frustration, hatred, insult, honour, lust, sacrifice, and love in a way not reading too much into it. If it has that 'its' okay' attitude about it, then it is sure to reap rich treasures. When one dictates what his/her heart should feel like at every instance, he/she is the conqueror of the world. I have been trying to tame my heart. That is what bought me to writing what I am now. It is really tough having an heart indeed. To round it off, our heart is like our spouses- what we like to be having, but what we find it tough as hell to be managing. And yes, both of which we can't do without having.

'HEART'y wishes,
nagappstheblogger!!!

   

To my love.,

You are by my side,

Though you aren't now.,

I haven't known you yet,

Is that why this is so beautiful?

It is you! when

music makes sense; when I

sit down to write; when 

its my morning coffee; when I

relate anything to beauty; when

I am I and not.

I can feel you,

from when my life began;

in small little things, in

a walk aside a beach, in

a lonely dinner, in a choice,

and in a care.   

You are there;

Somewhere there.

Just that you are in no human identity yet,

Besides, you are everywhere. 

You should be thinking as I do,

Here I am for you.

You may wonder if all the love that

I hold for you now, would seem less

with worldly hazards, as with others.

Seamless it would be, as you would see.

All my love cannot be told 

with three mere words - I love you.

Neither can yours, I know.

So let us not tell each other that, anytime.

Life is uncertain,

So, love is too;

Our life and love may have gone,

But these words of mine to you never will.

To my love,

Vignesh Nagappan

When we didn't know the letter 'I'

"Vigneeeeeeeeeeeeessh" yelled jean, from the balcony of his house opposite mine.
It was the signal for me to know that it was time to play cricket.

Everything else around me looked non-sense when I heard him go "Vigneeeeeeeeeeeeeessh"

I was memorizing and narrating to mom, the maths formulas starting with (a+b)^2 = a^2 +b^2 +2ab when he yelled for play that day.

"You are not going today unless you finish your homework of maths", amma sounded strict.
"I promise it is done after cricket before bed", I toned between pleading and harsh.

Karthick took the baton to call out for me from his younger brother, "Daai! Come out". Every time Karthick chose to call out, it signals desperation. I began to get more and more itchy.

I fiddled with my book in hand, looked up to the lights and fan, showed disinterest until amma finally said, "Okay. Go Play"

"Play Hard. Play Fair. Remember your time to be back and to finish your homework." She went on. Needless to say, I hardly heard anything after she uttered the two most beautiful words for a twelve year old - GO PLAY.

I ran to my balcony and looked at theirs, "Daai, Bloody hell, be here before I bring down the bat and ball", told jean verbally, what Karthick conveyed visibly with a stare.

I ran helter shelter, down my stairs to pick up my improper bat, strictly for runner's end use, and then cross the road to reach Karthick's house.

For a few hours of togetherness and fun we had to fulfill a host of assigned tasks. I had to eat an extra idly. Karthick had to buy vegetables for his mom when needed. Jean had to do few more of his Std five maths problems. Raja, the eldest of us all, had to balance his special classes for 10th Std with his time for cricket with us.

With the always inadequate time for cricket, we were hard-pressed to not lose time on assembling to Karthick's house and setting things for us to bowl the first ball. So we had a standard setup of stumps, crease and teams. The concrete pillars of L-138, Karthick's building, forming the unbreakable stumps; the paint markings, the non-erasable crease lines. We saw it as our cricket pitch and not as the flat's car parking lot. After all, cricket was everything we knew during those days and even now. It was a hay day when a few of his tenant's cars were out on the road. It meant we had few more places to score from.

To top our problems Karthick's dog, Blacky, would be edging to play with the ball we played with. To put him in his shed and try not to hit the ball near him was a game in itself.

"So it is Raja who is making us wait", I stressed to let not the brothers feel I was.
"It is him too", the little Jean said more to himself, throwing the ball up in the air.

Usually the ball we played with was a hard plastic one, which didn't endanger the outdoor glasses in the building, yet called for hard-skilled cricket. Each ball cost us three and a half rupees then and served us for just more than a week. The deal being Karthick, Raja and I had to contribute a rupee each and Jean since was a little one was excused with 50 paise. The irony of it all would be our phone call to remind each others to bring the rupee would cost each of us as much as well.

"So Raja is here. It is time we start hitting", Karthick shouted out to the heavens, as a quarter of our play time was gone.

Karthick and Raja were a team as always against Jean and I. We had been playing together since our toddle days. It was for long a battle between they the invincibles and we the underdogs. Of late we had begun to start winning on and off. It had become interesting as much as it was aggressive all the time. Strategies and Game plans had been in preparation since the last hour classes at school in my mind as anticipation grew close.

"In" guessed Jean as I asked him to call for the toss.
Karthick opened his fists to show that the stone was actually 'In'.
"We 'll bowl as always", I said as Jean ran to the bowling end to bowl.
Raja took the bat; Karthick had to wait.

After 15 minutes and 30 runs, Raja hit to the glass window which meant that he was out as per the rules of our cricket. Not to mention he just escaped from hitting the ball out of the gate for the second time earlier which again would have meant that he would have been out.

Karthick began brisk with a few boundaries. Then came the moment...

I bowled a ball which Karthick missed and hit the concrete pillar, our so called stumps. We had a black mark which level-indicated as the accepted height of the stumps.

"Out!!!", Jean high-fived with me.
"It hit above the stumps", Karthick argued so confident pointing to a place above the black paint mark as if he had seen the replay on a TV.
"You do this all the time", I threw the ball down in disgust.
"Raja you saw it; It is your take", Jean bet on Raja's honesty.
"I didn't see it from here", Raja played it safe.

All of us had seen this enough number of times and so we knew none of us were going to budge from our stand.

"I am not going to bowl a ball until Karthick agrees that he is out", I declared.
Karthick coolly took a stroll around the crease as if to imply 'If I don't get to play, so do you my friend!'.

The stalemate continued and continued. Karthick waited and waited. Jean fumed and fumed as Raja and I pondered and pondered on lost play time.

Finally Karthick burst out, "If you guys aren't gonna trust me, I am not gonna play with you any more".

It was curtains for play that day as Karthick ran up his stairs. Raja whisked away fed up, on his cycle.
Jean the unworried little kid asked me, "Come let us atleast play catches" to which I threw the ball at him for one last time and said "Poda Daai...."

The next evening arrived; I heard it again,"Vigneeeeeeeeeeeessh".
This time I knew it was from Karthick, in his same desperate tone.  
I dodged amma to reach the balcony to find out. Karthick stood and gave his customary stare.
I knew it meant "Daai, Bloody hell, be here before I bring down the bat and ball" as usual.
I ran helter shelter, down my stairs to pick up my improper bat, strictly for runner's end use, and then cross the road to reach Karthick's house.
We didn't look apologetic. Least so did we remember that we didn't get down well enough last evening.
We as usual waited for Raja to pedal his cycle and took jean by his neck to bring him down from his evening nap.

Raja arrived; the three one rupee coins and Jean's 50 paise were all pooled in to buy us the ball, the toss was done. Karthick again batted. karthick again disagreed.

Somethings don't change. Somethings don't have to.

We were at an age, then, when we didn't know what egos were, what 'I' meant. It wasn't the cricket that united us. It was 'we' that did. It is 'we' that is. It is 'we' that will forever.

How different it is as adults. Adulthood is where small fights take ages to sort out even if they do; where 'self' kills love; where 'I' betrays peace; where 'egos' lead all of us to being a hypocrite.

Just listening to a conversation between two kids tells us two things. One, how simple life actually is. Two, how difficult we have made it to be.

I wish I get to be child again more than I wish for anything else. Those were the ever-memorable days when we didn't know the letter 'I'. 

I now know that wish is always granted by God if the thought to be so prevails,
Vignesh Nagappan.A

To Karthick, Raja and Rajamani(Jean),
I am not sure if we are devotees of cricket as much as we are devotees of each other. Guess if not for each other, the cricket we played together is of no value.












  

Will Travel for Food!!!

Have you ever felt hunger? The moment when your stomach pulls its tissues and holds it tight; when every other thing on earth has no relevance; when you begin to shout out at your kith and kin for no reason; when for once you be a full person without your self-diminishing self-esteem; Its hard to put to words lot of beautiful things on earth. One such thing is the feeling of hunger.

When you are in such a want for food, how would the first bite of food that reaches your stomach feel to you? To me, it felt to be the best pleasure possible in a lifetime. Even pleasurable than having sex itself (I presume for now).

Having said that, do we give food the love that it demands? How usually do I get to see people chat over phone, switch on their TV sets or even, for that matter, lost in thoughts, while they have their food. Not to be enjoying food will be synonymous to not living a life at all. For all, it happens to be, the simplest and best of worldly delights.

Not to be having food to live is a curse, but not to be enjoying food while having it is an even bigger misfortune.

There exists a saying which goes, "Do not live to eat, but eat to live". I regret the life of whoever said that. In my opinion, he never lived one bit. He just put eating to be an act. For whom food is only a source to energy, I wonder them to be the most non-artistic of people to have existed. Yes, I used 'exist' as the verb for them, I consider them to be non-living beings.


If you have enjoyed (or atleast tried to enjoy) every act of yours, to me, you are the one who has lived life to the best possible. The so-called successful ones having lots and lots of money are no way close to have 'lived' life if they neither had time for food nor the eye to like things around them. Money is a mere medium to enjoy just like food very much is.


Food, pretty much, is the only single entity which satisfies all the five senses at the same time. The aroma of food fills the air and acts as a appetizer, even before arriving at the scene. The visual treat, it presents, offers a prelude to what lies ahead for us. With touch, the fingers romances the food. The taste buds, then, are served. Oh,the ear shouldn't be left behind, hence we bring the glasses together; make it kiss with our neighbour's and say 'Cheers' loud and clear for the delight of the ears. The sound of a slurp, the grin of a spoon in touch with the plate, all contribute to the ear's feast.


The guest to whom you served a dish may have since had the same dish a thousand other times at thousand other places, will yet come back to you and sing praises of it. That's the nostalgic beauty of food. If there is one thing that humans feel contented about it is got to be food and nothing else. That is why business deals happen over a dining table. As the stomach fills, the desires cease and the deal reaches a contentment point for both the parties.


I have a friend who wouldn't mind travelling hundreds of kilometers to satisfy his appetite with the food he wishes. I silently picked up that habit from him. That excitement which grows as you approach your favourite restaurant paramounts when you finally reach it. After you place your order, the wait to place your hands on food, is a dear feeling one shouldn't miss to enjoy. Eventually, when you take your first bite off it, it would be a matchless euphoria.

Being a foodie is a matter of pride. Don't disown that fact if you are one. Though I may not look like being one, I am certainly the best foodie I know yet.

Wishing you with a Bon appetite in whatever you do,
nagappstheblogger!!!

   

Rainy drops of words...

On a stroll when clouds covered the sky,

the first drop of rain touched down;

On the cheek and into the soul it went in,

melting down the toughest of ones.

Its 'hush' sound on the turf,

Likens a 'shush' to life's woes;

It is to ears music, 

what is to eyes joy.

When under a small shelter, waiting for it to leave;

Makes you witness to cuddles spilling romance around,

To make us think it is here to unite.

Leaves it does, only, with us wanting more.

Enough it is to hide, one decides;

To live is life, the made-dormant heart protests;

To hell with common cold, excitement proclaims,

And takes a holy dip.

As closed eyes and a drenched soul warrant,
a new definition to happiness.
An over-joyed out-stretched arm checks-out
a bit more to show-off.

Sighting water waves encircling on a puddle,
the eye befits a reply to the arm
moving its balls in sync to the water circles,
as poetic as it is.

The legs, high on envy, fumes
to be left behind, kicks
high the pool of rainwater, splashing
it to heights for its treat.

Soon egos catch up and all senses become peers,
to enjoy nature's rain to the best.

As the stroll takes to a finish,
the small shelter now holds, people closer
and closer to each other, leaving a thought
of an essential wisdom by analogy.

Togetherness is by nature, God-given;
The rifts in relationships, a mere man-made.

Yours naturally,
nagappstheblogger

  

Love, the problem.

In the classrooms of standard ten, eleven and twelve when a boy turns man and a girl turns a woman flow the first waves of affinity towards each other. That is the beginning of when teachers begin to give mute lectures. It is suddenly when poems begin to fill the pages of rough notes; when artists are born; when sound becomes music; first when beauty strikes rich. It is all when one's first love sneaks in and peaks life.

It is this unknown feeling infused by our creator unannounced. How does one hold their rational mind when what was deciphered as flesh and skin last night, appears to be heavenly divine the very next. Can anyone get over this feeling which turns harmless kids into seeming criminals? I haven't seen one who has. Is it actually a blessing or a curse to come across? In retrospect, it is both. A blessing to have felt life at its best. A curse when it has derailed your focus from being actually you. 

While this is inevitable, it leaves a few options to pick to cross the teen sea. One way is to swim the water. Another is to take a boat. If you ask me, boat is the safer option. That is a debate I shall take for another day. For now, it is interesting enough to look at the cases of the ones who have fallen to the bait.


Age makes a decisive role in choosing the one. The medicine for adolescence is often mistaken to be ending up finding a person to love. The inconvenience in a relationship perks up only when the cause for it ceases in needs. That is when love once true ends up being false. It has to be said though, it is physical love that should act as a medium for binding the two hearts together. If it does, love is stand to have stood its test of time. However, for the greedy that never is the case. 


The parental figures' fears lie in exactly this. They, having been through all games of age, remain skeptical to approve their kid's love interest. The thought that brittle decisiveness of youth may have played spoilsport in their child's life looms large. In some prevalent cases, dads' and moms' take ownership of their wards once for all. It hurts their egos when their little ones choose someone over them. They begin to feel they have become less important to ones whom they have put their lives on. Most of these parental reasons for denial are honest and must be respected. For all said, this is one unique battle of love versus love. Let us not bring in here society's factors of opposition ranging from religion to race. Those are for the small minded. We are good enough to weigh the true concerns of parental love against love seeking for marriage.


From the purview of the young lovers, the depth of the long years of love stands above all. It becomes a feeling they now can't live without. They leave no ears for anybody else but the chosen one. It has got to do with the battle mindset of  'you Vs me' against parents as well. That is when the credibility of their case goes out of the window. "It is 'my' life, it is 'my' decision", the have an ever-ready reply. Though they might be age-driven in some possible cases of decision making, their stance cannot be faulted for a bit. After all, whose choice ever is always right? For being so sincere in pursuing their heart's desire, they sure deserve to be heard and allowed to live.


Now, on whose side are you on? Do u patronize love marriages? 


Nothing can ever be generalized, could any? It remains to be seen on a case-to-case basis to decide on whose side one is. Rather, is it about taking sides at all? When sides are well divided, something means only one of it would go on to win. Isn't 'love' a win all game? Even if it is, it isn't at all times. If there is a way to keep everybody happy in this, it is when one party concedes to another's request. That being not so often in this clash of love, one ends up the loser. Love is something that grows with time. It never feels the strongest at first. It develops roots with imagination and other forms of falsity. So I mean to say, it can be decided to fall in love or not. It is at that point of the teen sea, when one has to decide to swim or to take the boat across the waters respectively. Once they decide on what to prioritize and what to lose, either their's or their parents' interests, they would know the best way across. Any relationship involves a weaker person and a stronger person. The weaker person is the one who wants to keep the relationship intact more the stronger person. I prefer relationships to personal interests. Many may think otherwise. This should explain on what one likes to go forward with.      


Relationships, be it of any sorts- friends, relations or companions, are comfortable for only a certain period of time when each other's egos are accommodating. As time rolls by, self-centered differences catch up. Thus, no decision on marriage, be it arranged by parents or self-chosen, can be a complete success. So it is no argument for parents to oppose their kid's chosen person. On the contrary, it is for parents to prioritize as well - to accommodate their kids' desires above their own or not. 


To fall in love or not would be best to 'Decide and act' and not 'act and then decide' is the bottom line. Love is the reason for happiness. And happiness is the reason for sadness. There is an expiry date for both happiness and sadness alike, unless one doesn't distinguish between both. With love being the root cause, let us not complicate things furthur in the name of love. Give love more than you take and accept what lies ahead, there will be no happiness, no sadness, only peace will remain. 

With love,
nagappstheblogger!!!       


         

                      

When life is a holiday...

Where life hardly gives time to live, how often does one find an eye to appreciate the small little beautiful things on Earth? The sight of a leaf swaying against the wind, the sound of the birds flapping its wings, the feeling of making grass your bed for the night and the peace on waking up to an early morning open sky, sadly goes unnoticed on every ambitious minute spent.  Aren’t these the very reason to live? In what one does to make for a living, life is made the cost. The mindless humans don’t understand that they are in search of something that they actually have in their own hands. Life is a paradox which is lost when is searched for. How frustrated is one’s life ironical to what an old proverb says is beautiful. The proverb isn’t wrong, only on-the-run reality makes it so.

When such an average frustrated soul seeks solace, a travel agent gets a phone call.

A holiday is synonymous to heaven. That is only when one shrugs off his responsibilities and pressures of an everyday life and gets a chance to actually live for a change. He gets to be a carefree child once again. He then forgets God, instead becomes one. One such holiday it was.

Work and duties had to wait, as finally the long-planned family holiday was about to take shape. The mood was upbeat and bags were packed with the ever-lasting last minute stuff-ins. The very feel of missing the everyday routine of life was refreshing to start with. Crossing the seas wasn’t such an odd event as it may have seemed a generation before. It was parts of Europe this time for us. Most of it which is called ‘developed’ that we, as Indians, crave to emulate. The silent proud Indian in me was in no mood to feel any inferior as it whispered, ‘let them show me what they have got!’

The flight is always a pain when it comes to the long-wait hours of immigration and check-ins. Not to mention that the wait had to be on sleepy hours. It had to be more yawns than smiles to start the tour off. Food had started to be more flesh than green even as we left our country’s borders.  We had to live on breads and salads from then on. I couldn’t have praised our idlys and dosas ever before as then. A few movies available on board kept us away from a bore while we touched down in Paris.

The best part of visiting a place foreign to you is in understanding how different the culture of people there is. It is amazing to see how geography changes the living ways of people. Not more than a few hundred kilometers apart from each other the ways of life get to be different. Their taste for food, idea of fun and the very definition of good and bad will make one’s senses feel so different to what it was practised to. The history and architectural distinctness is another trait of the place to decipher and like about on a travel. The awesomeness of climate and people around you on the tour would be the perfect icing on the cake to make for a soothing holiday.

The tour began on a coach which took us around the city of Paris. The history of the French revolution and the courage of Napoleon Bonaparte were on showcase everywhere. The native people there were so busy on the outlook. The bright sunny day was keeping them on their toes. For being popularly known as the fashion capital of the world, they barely had clothes on. What seemed summer to them had us wearing sweaters and jerkins.

Just the visual difference to our part of the world kept the cameras on full duty. It was perfumery and leather all over to pick from but for the frightening price tags. Some had me wondering if the prices were quoted in Rupees rather than in Euros.  The city of love had me feeling bad for not having my girl around. A day later it was time for the most beautiful city of Europe – Brussels, to be witnessed.

The land of chocolates and waffles was a treat to spend time in. The beauty of the city was eye-catching. The discipline in the people was so obvious that had a few in our tour group bad remark about Indians in comparison. The fire was fueled with the talk on our cleanly ways with respect to theirs; leaving me to ponder upon the causal thoughts for it. I began comparing and analyzing the people I saw there to our very own. I eventually found out, it all boiled down to the satisfaction levels of the basic needs of people.  When you have what you want to live, life becomes easy to be mannered. How could one expect discipline in people who fight to survive for a living. It is when the rat gets out of its race, does it care for its neighbourhood. So I soon realised there is no point in comparisons at all. I have started to laugh out since, when I read statistics these days saying India is ranked so far low to others in so and so. I then made myself believe I belonged to the place I was to, to live it to the fullest.

With a few chocolates in our shopping bag, we left Belgium for Germany. Germany was full of speedy cars and churches. The Mercedes Benz museum in Stuttgart showed how sexy cars can be. The Germans had forgotten about Adolf Hitler. They didn’t want us talking about him and the world wars. Their language, German sounded so different to our ears. Actually, being in a foreign place gave us the license to use our language at will. We could spell out our momentous frustrations in deep flavoured Tamil on them with a confidence of them not knowing a word in it. More or less the tongue had survived on the pleasure of the Tamil language than on the taste of food. The not-so-good feeling of local food in the air brought back desperate memories of spice in our homeland. Few spells of rain late in the evening, however, made the place blissful.

All this bought us to the final pit-stop on the tour, the picturesque Switzerland. The lakes in each city of Swiss, the swans in it and the nature around the place had swept each one off our feet. You had to be there on the snow of the Alps Mountain to see the peak of beauty that nature had on offer. No girl could be as pretty-looking as she was that day. The coach left our hearts behind and took us back to the city en-route picture perfect grasslands. Even as all this was there to feel and enjoy on the drive, people spent the passing second clicking pictures to boast and hobnob to satisfy their egos with supremacy. I pitied them as Nature is best felt, and not photographed. I even wondered if for some people life was what others felt about them and not what they did.

After eight days of true life, the beaming hot sun of Chennai welcomed us back in India with sweat as its greeting present. The very prospect of getting back to a hard-paced  life-robbing life made the last week’s time so special and important.

No matter where a holiday is to and whom it is with, it revives one’s senses and makes it as some of the most memorable days spent on Earth. Life is designed to be beautiful. It should only be felt so. Let not the pressures of life rob the beauty in it.

With the pleasure of many more holidays to come with you people,

   

nagappstheblogger!!!                

Happiness is in and around.,

My train to Chennai for a home weekend was scheduled for 9 pm. I had to rush in to reach the station as I had started late after sitting through till the end of a thrilling cricket match. Cricket was something which always had more priority than most things in life for most people, especially for me. The clock showed 8.40 pm when I huffed and puffed to the boarding point in the train with my heavy baggage of clothes. I made sure my washing machine at home was given a hefty load every time I got back home. I put the bags under the seat and got down to pick up some things to crunch and drink, having had dinner on the run.

"Coffee", I ordered to the IRCTC stall keeper.
He made me a cup of ground coffee and kept it by me.
I lifted the cup and bought it up and close to my nose. I sucked in the hot flavor of the rich South-Indian coffee. Only few things on earth can beat a well-made coffee.
I also got myself a packet of lays to serve my company as it often bores to travel alone.

It was almost time for the train to leave, and I got into it. I occupied my seat in the train cabin which had a mixed bunch of co-passengers.

What immediately caught my eye was a cute, 5 year old girl in the company of her father. The father seemed a patient young man. It needed patience indeed, to feed his daughter the packed dinner.

"Have this bite, your last one for the day", he had urged the kid for every bite.
"You can't cheat me. I have already had my last bite 5 times", replied the grumpy girl turning away her face.
The young father smiled at his daughter's comment as he soon realized his persuading techniques were past their age for his bright kid.
The man badly needed his wife to be have been around. His mind-voice praised his wife's deeds in achieving this herculean task day-in and day-out. Gentlemen shower the wives with adorable words only when they have missed them the most.
However, he hadn't given up. The fatherhood in him kept him going at the task, but a bit of frustration had crept in than before though.

I watched all this in awe as I sipped in my beaming coffee enjoying every bit of it on a moving train's breeze.

"If you eat, I will buy you a chocolate", in went one bite.
"See the crow there", she took in another in amusement.
"Only if you eat, you will grow big like me", she chewed in a quick few bites in realization.

"If you do not eat, this anna would catch hold of you", he alarmed pointing to me.
For a quick moment I wondered if I had appeared so threatening to be an example for what I was.
I knew I atleast had to act so, to do my bit for the kid's dinner.
"Yes, if you don't finish that Dosa, I will finish you", I said far from deceptive even to a child.
"hahaha!!!", the girl laughed out her last bite of dosa seeing my funny act.
I knew I had a chance in Tamil films being as worse as an actor that I was for a minute.

Finally, her dinner was over. Her father felt so proud of it. He seemed like he had conquered the invincible thing. The child got back to its playful self. Her Dosa-spread-mouth and the always-eager-eyes didn't leave my mind for the night.

Across my side were a son and mother who were keeping mum for most times. The bachelor-son was engrossed with his mobile. His mother was left with no company. She seemed to be worried, perhaps in mind of her responsibilities. The son, I presumed, had his share of worries with his girlfriend on texts.

By now, I had finished my lays packet with the scenes of life of my co-passengers keeping me interested.

By my other side, was two middle aged people, who were chatting profusely about banks and banking regulations, Apparently, they worked in different banks. They stressed on the pros and cons of each other's bank to win the argument. I wondered if they had a trophy to win on conclusion. They even for a minute didn't live life, only catering to their egos.

As I took insight of all this, I realized a few things. They were strangers to me, so for a very rare occasion I was viewing people as what they actually are but not as what I saw them to be. Being not related to them made devoid personal equations and helped me understand how people actually live each other's lives. People, I saw, were so engaged in life that the evident happiness in and around one's self went unnoticed. To the feeding father, it was a test of his temper. For the argumentative banking co-passengers, it was a battlefield with self-pride at stake. For the bachelor-son, life was not where he physically was. For his mother, it was about her non-existent son. To me, whose perspective was detached from their stresses of 'self-life', it meant the small little beautiful things around them that they themselves had failed to notice. The father had missed in his frustration to enjoy the child's nature. The self-possessed minds had a mind-block to think beyond "I, ME, MYSELF", which amounts to nothing. 

Once one is clouded with self thoughts he/she loses to live life. Only when one takes 'self' out from his/her system, would one have time for their 'real life'. By 'real life' I mean, what nature gives us- the sound of rain, the chirps of birds, the warmth of the sun, the chill of breeze and the music by the river. Real Life is in a cry, in a smile, in a word. It is in a cuddle, in a pat and in a touch. It motivates to find something to like and enjoy in each of the things around us. 'Self life' hardly keeps open our hearts and senses to the happiness around us. It only urges to go in search of a self-goal blind-folding whatever one's senses may like to feel that are evidently close-by. It only leaves one to find something to dislike and complain in each of the things around us.

As I went to bed on my train birth, I was certain that only when I took out all the 'first-person-possessive' words from my dictionary, I would live LIFE. Until then, I would be a mechanical entity whose search is always a constant and its realization possibly never. It is easier said than done to remove the self from one's thoughts. It is difficult than it may seem but it is not impossible. After all, every individual is made up of his/her egos; the lesser one shows it, the more beautiful they get to be known.

Cheers and Regards,
nagappstheblogger!!!

The Gender Rule

Human kind, like any other living species, has two basic forms of life as designed and designated by the creator. From tiny ants to the mighty elephants, life on earth is categorically either masculine or feminine. Now there must be a motive for this creative genius of God more than just the cause for reproduction. Looking beyond reproducing, what is God trying to let us know by differences in the character and nature within the same species? Is he meaning to say each of them are different to take up different roles in life? Does he not mean to say both are equally capable?

Whatever he may have meant to say, I am afraid, that hasn't definitely reached us correctly for now. At least to we, the human race.

If it was so designed that only one gender existed, to live life and possibly biologically reproduce with only the same, what would have been the intricacies? Obvious enough, survival wouldn't have even been possible with the world being a battle for existence, with no motive to show kindness. With creation of the second gender, God had done a masterstroke, thus inventing 'love'.

Now every man had a reason to live and not die- 'a woman';  every woman had a reason to live and not die- 'a man'. Survival would be without question. 'Love' would be the reason for living beings to want to cheat death. God always wanted nature to be the only reason for death as it is for birth. A man would always have a women to fall upon to wipe off his tears in a failure. He would have a soul to satisfy and make happy. A women would have a man to empower and mean happiness to. Unfortunately, if only, all this got to the human race's mind in the right way.

Co-existence and not Inferior-superior Complexes should mean to each other. If 'men' are defined in character as protective, hard-headed, ambitious souls, the reason they are designed so is only to serve their feminine love with their warmth and achievements and thereby to realize subsequent happiness. If 'women' are synonymous to responsible, understanding, decisive, lovable souls, they are built so by nature only to support their man and be the shoulder of strength in his pursuit of success. This doesn't mean to a decimal point that one is stronger than the other. I can surely defend saying, if men are physically dominant, women are mentally. So I believe undoubtedly, nature always evens out traits in genders to promote co-existence and not be a reason for dominance. 

The world society still working for equal women rights is a pity. That is their birth right from nature. The cause for the men domineering is a case of improper understanding of civilization through the ages of history.

Civilization through religion devised an effective way of family functioning for the goodness of existence. Men who had the physical strength to work the day had to be protect the interest of women; women seen to have more mental strength took care of the well-being of the household. I always believe a family's challenges are any day bigger than work's. The civilization knew the more difficult part had to be bestowed upon women. They lay such a road map to peace as only women were strong enough to be adaptive, prioritize love and help their men achieve great things as a result triumph in making a successful home. It was a well-designed template where it was believed every success of a man was a women's and a women's success was as a result of their man's. They lived for each other and thus co-existed. Unfortunately over the generations that was misunderstood as women are not more than good enough to be at home. This misinterpretation of culture started to be the beginning of the world's most precious resource, the women, going wasted.

How beautifully had nature made women so strong to have the assertiveness to persuade a man to strive, strive and strive despite failures! How beautifully had culture said a man should always believe he can satisfy the desires of his women while a women has to always believe her man is keeping her happy. How awfully has the following generations misunderstood all this to now be thinking men had kept women restricted to homes!

For the world to move forward, I strongly feel men must see the importance of a woman's role in their lives. Nothing feels better than to live for a women of your dreams. Girls, ladies and women need to know their best qualities are patience, care and affection. Only narrow-minds would think females can't be bold or authoritative. They can even be so, even better than men. Being what men are only ruins the beauty of femininity in them. It is their role to play a positive influence on their man to help him succeed and hence eventually succeed.

This Gender Rule which when well comprehended, like it was meant to be when it had originated, should pay rich dividends in peace and harmony to the society. If I did some part in conveying, what my native culture thought me, across fresh minds to value and celebrate the company of each other's gender for a successful life then I would consider myself proud of having authored this blog.

Cheers and Regards,
nagappstheblogger



           

Meet 'Pain' - the teacher...

"When would the bus reach Coimbatore?" asked my 19 year old cousin, while we both had just boarded our bus at 10 pm from pudhukottai, to reach our respective colleges the next morning on a Monday, after a weekend well-spent in our native village.

"It should get there anytime between 4 to 5 AM", I whispered my reply after a quick inquiry.

The mood was pretty good as we kept chatting about movies and sports till we went off to sleep. We, being of the same age-group, had our mouths open always when with each other.

As he dozed off to sleep, I didn't find mine as yet. An uneasy feeling from the stomach had warranted more importance. Picking relevance from the Kingly dinner I had had that night, I figured out all wasn't well with digestion.

The time grew past 12, the stomach's problems were only increasing by every lonely minute. I began to  throw-up out of the window of the last seat in the bus which I had occupied. The sound of my throw-ups and gasps woke up some of my co-passengers, as did my cousin brother too.

"What is the problem", echoed the visibly concerned elder brother of mine.

"Nothing but an upset stomach", I replied unconvincingly.

"Have water to help you out", he said, reaching out to me with the only bottle of water we had for us for that night.

As I used it to refresh me, I began to puke again. It seemed to be never-ending as the clock showed 2 AM. My physical pain had escalated eccentrically by then.

My watch had found its way to 3 AM when my words wasn't enough to explain the pain I had, in reply to my caring brother.

He, having known my history of problems which includes a surgery I had on my intestine as a ten-month old child, grew suspicious of the seriousness of the issue at hand.

"Should I give chittappa a ring now?", as he meant my father would be the person for him to address his concern to.

"No, lets reach home and see if I get better", I feebly replied. He understood I wasn't too keen on giving my father a disheartening wake-up call.

The bus had almost touched the outskirts of Coimbatore in the middle of all this by 4 in the morning.

He saw me spit out everything from food to coloured fluids to saliva as time called for dawn. He knew he had to notify someone for help now. He decided not to scare my father from bed in Chennai, so he rang up his father to address the issue without panic. Periyappa had inevitably taken the matter to my father in the best way possible without much haste. My dad, after the message had sunk in, made arrangements to take me to the hospital once I reached Coimbatore.

The bus reached Coimbatore at 5 AM as dawn reached us. We got down it. I hardly could even stand up straight as we waited for us to be taken to the hospital.

The first fluids of pain-killers brought me back to Earth after a 6 hour stay in hell. As diagnosis of my problem had started,the news grew serious across family circles. Mom and my maternal close-ones took the car from my native and Dad flew down on the first flight from Chennai. One of the most traumatic journeys in their lives,perhaps.

X-rays, blood samples and scans were taken from my body. I had become too weak to put any thoughts into mind or be an individual at all.

I asked one of the doctors who was considering my case, "What seems to be the problem?", to which she replied, "lets hope it is just a case of food-poisoning". I knew with the pain I had, that wasn't going to be the case although deep inside I wished it was.

Unable to come to a conclusion by early afternoon on what exactly was wrong, the Doctors called up my parents and advised for a laproscopic surgery to detail on the issue and correct it. Subsequently, I was made ready for the surgery with body hair near the stomach taken off. I felt a mixed state of tensed calmness. I didn't want myself to think anything.

By 3 PM in the late afternoon, I was guided to the operation theatre by the nurses. I had my dad waiting at the entrance of the theatre to leave me with 2 strong words-"Stay Confident". I replied with a nod, knowing that I needed to give him more confidence even though I didn't have much for myself at that point in time.

The operation bed moved near the doctor's medical kit. The doctor firstly wanted to get my mind ready for the operation. He began distracting my mind from the theatre's ambience. He questioned me about my college and the like. As my replies kept coming, an anesthetic drug filled my nerves growing from my right hand to my right shoulder. I went unconscious soon after.

I woke up on a bed of the ICU.
As I regained the feel of life, I asked the nurse nearby, "What is the time now?".
She replied, "6 o'clock"
My immediate question was,"Morning or Evening?".
The nurse with a caring smile said, "Morning. And the date is 31.12.2008"
I then realized I had lost a day in my life. I was operated on the 29th of December and woke back to existence on the day after.

As I moved up the bed, I put my hand on my stomach to feel it. I had a line of stitches on it. I then understood from the nurse that it was not just a laproscopic surgery that I had, but an open surgery as the problem seemed more complex.

I finally discovered from my surgeon that I was a case to intestinal hernia (a medical term which means the intestine has dislocated). I was also told by him that I was absolutely fine after the surgery. I questioned him on the cause of such a problem to me. He said that it was natural and by birth. He made it clear my food habits hadn't got anything to do with it. My guilty mind was put to death with that statement of his. He finally signed off saying, "You are no different to anyone anymore; You are as normal as me, we shall dine non-vegetarian together after 2 weeks". I wasn't strong enough to put out even a smile in return.

Soon after the visitor's time had commenced, only two had permission to visit my bed in the ICU. My sister earned the first right from my other members of the family. She came near my bed and had no words but just tears. I wanted to extend my arm to wipe it off but didn't have the physical strength to do so then. She was followed by my grand dad. He looked confident and gave me just that as he left. It was something I very badly needed then.

I made sure I didn't shed tears in front of people who care for me to show that I remained confident. Deep down my heart craved for pouring out all emotions. I finally cried out when the room turned dark that night. A new year, 2009, was born as I vented out all pain.

This 'pain' had taught me many things by then. Firstly, the worst of 'Pain' had made my mind and soul ready to accept what ever comes my way however bad they may seem to be. Every morning since then, I feel the surgery mark on my stomach and say to myself, "When you have handled this, you can handle anything that may come your way today". I have become more confident as a person since then.

Photo caption: On the road to recovery, dated: 10-01-2009 

More importantly 'pain' had helped me to feel Love. From my father's words to my mother running her hand on my fore-head to my sister's tears and prayers, I felt love with every single minute during my recovery time. Perhaps, it is because I yearned for it the most then, that I felt it the most. That is why, I always now think that those days were a blessing in disguise.

The reason I wanted to share this blessing of mine with all of you is exactly this: having experienced the worst of  'pain', I made sure that I must not give it to any others in my life ahead for any reason. It sowed deep into me that my success had no meaning if that had come as a result of someone else's pain.
So would your success mean. Pain is something 'unbearable'. I wish none of us are a reason for causing it. Let us contribute to each other's happiness in every little way possible. Life will be beautiful. And so will be people. 


With only Love and No pain,
Vignesh Nagappan.A

GOD is.

It was that time of the day when the Sun was scorching on the Earth's surface at the industry I was training in. As all hungry stomachs summoned for an afternoon meal to energize for work on other side of noon, labours were all in a hurry to grab their plate of food. That was when I noticed a daily-waged labour spot a 20 rupee note dropped by someone who probably had it to buy his food. For a man who earned Rs 120 a day as wages, it must have meant a lot. To my surprise, though, that wasn't going to his kitty. He had decided to defer his stomach's food demands for a while to find the man who had dropped it.

For a while, I lost myself in thoughts to gauge the reason behind the integrity of the man. To be certain, I called him over, to put forth the same as a question to him. He just had a line in reply, "God wouldn't have kept me happy if I had kept this money for me". 

It hit me hard on what 'God' meant to each soul. GOD meant, through religion, to propagate truth and love than to give precedence to selfish motives. This instance had helped me become so sure that 'religion' had achieved what it had set out to, in most cases than not. 

"Civilization is a struggle to keep ones' self control" goes a proverb. How would our world look like when none keeps their self control? To put into simple words, it will be like an hell on Earth. When cultures had began to civilize, to help frame the rules of the society, brought in the concept of Religion. Under Religion, they described what is Good and Bad. In other words, what is Godliness and Evilness. They knew in order to control one's self, they needed the seed of either 'Love' or 'Fear'. GOD came into existence.

They preached GOD was a symbol of 'Love' to people who did good and a symbol of 'Fear' to the people who did evil. Needless to say, different civilizations had different places of origin and hence different Religions leading to different forms of God. All was well, until the good and the bad line was distinct and not blurred. Thanks to atheists and the fights among religions on who's God is superior, in the later centuries, which have now blurred it.

Religion is the best gift mankind has. One needs to be religious as much as possible, complying to each of their religion's philosophies to be a 'good' person. I personally define a 'good' person as one who spreads love and tries his best not to hurt any other human's feelings. And I am sure that is exactly what each religion preaches. 

All good things bring along their share of negativism.  Like technology, Religion was no exception to 'nothing comes without its shares of problems'.

With Religion, it was being a case to money making for some sections of the society.The numbers of the religion based money-makers are ever on the raise with gurus, fortune-tellers and worship-place money seekers in various forms. That has ruined the authenticity of religions. That has made people,youth especially, to turn a blind eye on religion or has lead them to understand religion in the wrong way. That has only led to further blurring the line of what is good and what is not, doing no good to the society's civilized functioning. It sure needs to be addressed in the society. The best way to address it would be to propagate religion in the right way bringing up its true motive which is to preach goodness and divinity, especially to young minds. However, the heartening fact now remains, as I inferred with the little example of my daily-waged labour colleague, Religion has had relative success emphasizing that its positives outnumber the negatives.

I thought I would do my bit to promote 'Goodness in the form of religion' through this blog. If this blog is helpful in propagating to the society that, religion is not just about going to worship places and offering prayers but more about 'DOING GOOD and BEING GOOD', this blog's and my purpose are achieved. 

Be Religious; Find the GOD in you and turn Godly,

Regards and cheers!!!

nagappstheblogger

Modern, are you?

A youth just out of his teens, on the streets, passed by me. His hair, coloured into shades of pale to deep brown in varying parts. His face with curvatures of hair carvings. His neck boasted of a strap metal chain. His outfit had nothing to do with the climate nor the weather that day, an over-coat on a bright sunny day, more to flaunt the tee inside. Well, that was not all, he did public service too, brooming-up the path he trotted, with his overflowing jean trousers. The reply he had to give me for this style of his presentation was that he was being 'modern'.

When I was in my lower classes learning what each word had to mean, I understood the word 'modern' meant keeping-up in pace with time and its changes. I, for once, thought school education had failed me. Then realized, it wasn't education that had failed me but it is the roots of the society which has.

Unfortunately to the society's eye, not only keeping in pace with time was being modern; but also to keep in pace with the trends of the markets; mostly western, who find a huge target in us to sell their products. To sell the products that they make for their culture, they must first sell their culture to us. Only that would make us attracted to their products. Their culture comes to us disguised as Modernization.

Our culture which was civilized even when westerners were barbarians, is now pushed to psychological limits where it is made to feel it is inferior to some other counterparts. We, ultimately lose our culture and thus our identity. We turn puppets in the hands of the globalizers with every single step of sucking our culture and injecting theirs. We, eventually, unknowingly become a servant to their desires.

The bitter fact now is, it is hard to find a place in our society and culture where there isn't an external influence. From our native language to our daily way of life, we are adulterated. English, for a simple instance, forms a part of even the deep-rural parts of our country which is supposedly lacking in the basic communication channels. I wonder if one knows the translation to 'pen' in their respective languages. If any tamil folks out there think 'penna' is the tamil equivalent, then I am afraid, you are the ones who are most affected, rather 'deeply-penetrated' in the marketing terms of globalization.

If the world was ruled by the black people rather than the whites, Black would have been the colour you would like your child to be born in. The reason being, we perceive what is good by what we are preached is good.

'Kayalvizhi', a name carrying its culture's imprints, isn't a name worth to be coined for a child from a tamil household anymore, as that would mean the child would be looked down by the western culture which is the domineering influence right now. This is evidence enough to show that we have put to shame our culture which deserves Kingly honour. If this grows to be the common case, we would have conceded that we will turn the way our bosses like us to see, digging our pride in a deep dark-pit.

My worry is, we do all this in the name of making us modern. My pain is, our people don't take pride in our culture. The little fact is that your own culture can contribute to creating modernity. My finding is, the more ethnicity you bring in to your way of life, the more modern you get. The more you trace the grassroots of your culture the more confident you feel about yourself and your way of life. That yields modernity in thoughts and that only makes you a modern person. The only thing different about the origin of each culture is the geography of its civilization. Thus, nothing better than your own culture can teach you the best way to lead a life in that particular geography. Thereby, I see absolutely no reason for any superiority issues with culture, language, religion and the tensions surrounding it.

So let us get 'being modern' right. If you think, if you westernize in attire, go on malls and hit on burgers, you would be called a 'modern' person; then you are one of the most narrow-minded people going around. It is time you realize, Westernization and Modernization are two different things, of which you form the former's part.  If you think you need to change with time, stop writing inland letters and get onto typing mails; then you are sensible in understanding what is modernity. One is ONLY MODERN if his thoughts are modern. For thoughts to be modern, the self-realization that culture doesn't come in the way of being modern, must be idealized. After all, modernity is a mental entity, not a physical one.

So, are you modern? Think and change the way you live. 




To my modern readers,
Cheers and regards-nagappstheblogger.

Marriage is Bliss!!!

A pair of tired legs entered its home after a long day's workload midst the filthy society's battle-yard. A pair of beautiful lips greeted it with shades of teeth playing hide and seek beneath it. The soul bearing those legs turned alive with the sight of his queen. The hopeless heartbeat jumped its rate proportionally as the smile of his lady grew. Eyes which always wanted to switch off a minute ago, never wanted to anymore. Love filled the air. Marriage was bliss. Rather, it always is.

The pleasures in a relationship are in-numerous. Each soul seeks its companion, marriage is its ultimate victory. I have always wondered why is the society so negative about marriage. Isn't marriage the greatest of all relationships that exist?

We share life with no body else on earth but our better halves. Life is different for different individuals. It is the most difficult thing to share. Her interests become his' and his' become hers. That is the first time one begins to live not for oneself but for another soul. That is on which love builds a concrete platform. When this basement is well-laid, no force on Earth can dare break it.

The society's fears of marriage only lingers when the soul's are disconnected. When life is shared, the two entities become one. Do the evils of individuality, like ego, dominance and arrogance, even have a chance to show-up then?  Marriage can only be bliss.

However, life being the most difficult thing to share, to be able to achieve it needs the quality called 'acceptance' from both the parties of marriage. People are what their experiences shape them to be. No two people have the same experiences in life. Even if they do, perceptions of those experiences would surely differ. So how does one blur the line of individuality to succeed in marriage and reap its rewards of happiness? Just the thought that one's interests aren't as important as their partners' would do. Let me emphasize again, this thought must be sowed on the minds of BOTH the parties concerned in the relationship. Just one way traffic would only have an adverse effect. If this thought is ensured, marriage surely is blissful.

I have always had the habit of dedicating each of my blogs to the people who inspired me to write each of it. In that case, I should have dedicated this to my to-be wife. But, having myself to dedicate for her, I thought this blog can only be a show-case for our relationship  to-be. I am sure, this blog will show us the way forward whenever the individuality line shows-up in our relationship. So will it, for all of you.

WISHING U ALL A HAPPY MARRIAGE.
cheers,
nagappstheblogger