I too have a daughter...

"Keep these files upfront on my table, they need some follow-up", I informed to one;

"And these can be sent across to our branch office", directed another;

"Can't this simple thing be looked after by you, don't be expecting your pay if I end up doing your work", I finally lost my temper.

No it wasn't my employees who were at fault. It was my anxiety over an expected call which gave in to my anger. Poor fellows had to take in my shouts along with the pay I had on offer for them.

"yes...Tell..me..uncle", the call I was expecting had arrived.
"Did every..th..ing go on wel..ll?" I bit every word too eager to know something;
"You have a girl", my uncle replied living and cherishing each and every syllable he meant to convey.

I closed my eyes and allowed a tear drop that filled my eye descend down my cheek.

"Thank you Uncle!", I cried the words out.
"Is Meena fine?!", I enquired about my wife.
"She is so full with joy!", my father-in-law beamed.
"I can't wait to get there. Take care of her. I shall start right away", I said as words didn't have my control and ended the phone line.

As I placed the phone on its seat, I went completely lost; didn't know the world around me;

I shut my office; Kept foot after foot reiterating what had just happened. The feeling hadn't sunk in yet. I have become a dad. Yes, I have a daughter.

It is a practice in our part of the world where wives head to their mother's place to seek the necessary care and attention when they are to deliver a child. That had kept me away from Meena for 5 months now. I missed her so much that moment;  more than ever before.

I had to get to her immediately somehow. Fly, drive or atleast run to reach her that very moment.

It was evening already and I had to look for tickets to Kumbakonam where my queen and princess were.

I managed to find a place for myself bribing the TTR with a hefty sum. For once, bribing wasn't such a bad thing to be doing. I got to my seat and laid down thinking. Thinking was all I did and could do that night.

How should I bring her up? What will be her name? How will she look? the seamless such questions kept coming through the journey.

"I should give her the best possible in life", I told myself.
"She should have the best education", I added.
"She would one day be proud to call me her father", I puffed out my chest and said; the parent in me had found birth.

In the middle of all these thoughts, the sun came out the next morning...

I headed to the hospital well-received by my in-laws at the station; that's the best part of the Asian culture, you have family around in every important moment of your life. To cry, fight or laugh you can always have a company around.

"Dhanlakshmi Hospital", I read as I entered the hospital and approached our room with increasing anticipation on every step that I took.

More than I wanted to see the baby, I wanted to see the fulfillment on Meena's face.
I envisaged how she would react on seeing me!

The first step into the room brought me eye to eye with Meena.

I hadn't seen so much joy in someone so far. She didn't intend to give me a smile at all, I just knew it from her deep eyes, unruly hair, motionless lips and the hidden teeth beneath them that she meant so much more than what a smile could possibly convey.

She moved her hands across her forehead to gather her falling hair and rolled it behind. She was in the hospital clothing, yet was picture perfect beautiful that moment. The best that I have seen her since marriage.

I didn't take my eyes off her even for a second until she cupped our baby girl from her bed and held her up against me. Before I could get introduced to my daughter, for some reason I kissed Meena on her forehead.

Amid the giggle of my in-laws about the kiss, Meena couldn't hide a sheepish smile. And so, I couldn't hide one either.

I took our daughter into my arms and couldn't react for a second or two. You never know what to do when happiness engulfs you, do you?

I made a silent prayer to God then and derived the courage to bring up my daughter by being an ideal dad.

I whispered to her ears, " I am not sure what fate has written under your name, but I promise I will see to that I will correct all the not-so-happy lines in it".

She was asleep then, but I knew she would have heard me loud and clear. I put her back on her cradle.

All close relatives had gathered by then and made warm comments about the looks of the baby. The grandparents began, "She is so beautiful, she is gonna get a great looking groom".
Others replied, "Yes, she is gonna make the guy run after her".

"The Indian family can be unduly exaggerative, fortunately or unfortunately", I murmured more to myself.

"Every 'baby' looks cute", shrugged off my 12 year old niece in a matter-of-fact tone. It all added to the beauty of the occasion.

By the evening the dad-feeling had sunk in. I had become more responsible. I atleast seemed so.

"I shall go and get milk and the other things needed for the mother", I pitched in to help my in-laws.
"I'll join in", my brother-in-law Muthu offered to help.
So both of us started out;

Milk was first on the list and it was supposed to be Meena's diet for the day and thus for my little girl too.
So I was very particular about the quality of the milk, with it being my first ever deed as a father.
 
"Lets buy from here", Muthu said it the 10th time showing as many tea-shops.
"Not clean; Not hot; No packeted milk", were my alternate replies for the 10 occasions.

"I regret to have wanted to accompany you", Muthu must have thought.
I wasn't ready for an acceptance even if it seemed to be the best available.

That defines not only me as a father by each and every parent.

Leaving me-being-a-dad-and-having-a-daughter story here, we as kids have similar duties towards our parents. To do anything and everything to protect their happiness and peace has to be the foremost of responsibilities in our lives.

About such a great relationship that transcends generations, I can never say enough about. So I end here with me wanting for the day when I get to be a dad to come very soon.

Parenthood is the proudest and heartiest feeling of life. I wish every one of us is blessed to have a kid and be called Appa or Amma. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can match that feeling.

From,
nagapps-the-appa!!!
  





    

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!!!