Tell me a story

"Tell me a story" speak loud enough that I can hear you over the noises around. The story may be old and boring but please start over, speak Louder, make me remember. Tell me the story of us;. Something so exciting that it sparks me to move on! Let me rest this night in your lap, to wake up to my fifties. I am bored of my twenties. I want to grow old.

I am fed up with the sparkle in my eyes; it is fake, created with just the dark lines of an eye artist kit, it never adds to my youthfulness or optimism.

Tell me the story of a heaven, where I can sit with you for ages, laugh, and cry and do whatever I feel like without solid reasons. Tell me a romantic story so charming and full of life; that I can dream; I exist, that I am not a rock.

Tell me a story, just speak dear, I want to hear your voice, stories of child hood. Tell me the fairy tales, where the stories always had a happy ending, where they ended with the clause “and they lived happily ever after”. Tell me that we are also living in one such fairy tale.

Tell me that we have already past 15 years of living together and we are at our 40’s. Tell me we have nothing to worry about anymore and we are for each other. Tell me that our lives are fully in our control and nobody including god can get nothing done with it.

Tell me a story dear, The story of a girl, who loves fairy tales, who still runs behind dragon flies, who still cries for getting things done, who still begs for that piece of chocolate. Speak loud enough, that I can hear you over the noises around!!!

What would have been…

She removed the sparkling wedding ring off her finger… The token of love!! She felt the ring is too heavy for her... Staring at the ring she could barely see the face of that girl, whom she’d almost forgotten, very cheerful and talkative Renu… the one who dreamt about “true love”, and adventurous life ahead!!Somewhere inside her locked up  heart, a spirit turned in its sleep and pried out a single tear from an unsuspecting gland. What would have been… 

Autism, Oh That's Great!! BTW what is that?

Other side: Hi, How are you?

Me: I am good, thanks

Other side: You are from Ernakulam rite?

Me: yes, muvatupuzha

OS: ohh.. okey... studied?

Me: yes I did study..

Os: No no.... i mean where did you do your graduation?

Me: MGU.

OS: Nice.. I did it from XXXXX and then PG from XXXXX

Me: k (Why the heck you are telling me all these.. can’t you see I am not interested??)

OS: Who all are there in your home?

Me: Dad, Mom, Bro and Grandma

OS: Nice.. Bro... What he is doing?

Me: Nothing.. He is autistic

OS: Great!! BTW whats that?

Me: He has autism... not well...

OS: Autism means what?

ME: Please Google it...

Silence for long 2, 3 minutes...

OS: err...mm... so sorry ... I dint know it..

Me: Its fine.. no need to feel sorry about.. he is well and good.. The best man in the world I have ever seen.. 

The other side guy will no longer come for a chit chat in usual case..

But I have also seen guys coming with offers of pure love and all (not only for me but for ma bro too ... Effect of Cliché Malayalam movies.. Hero offering life to heroine and her family suffering from disease( poverty comes along).. hmm.... hehee)... Sorry people I don’t want it.. Not because you are bad, but there are needy people who wants your sympathy than me.. Please please.. Give it to them.. 

Worldwide, April 2 is celebrated as the World Autistic Awareness Day to highlight the need to help improve the lives of children and adults with Autism so that they can lead full and meaningful lives.

"Autism is an invisible condition, that is, an autistic person may not necessarily be on a wheel chair or on crutches, so people don't accommodate for the person," Merry Barua, founder of NGO Action for Autism (AFA) said. 

Beyond the barriers of morality..

The writer is not sure about the relevance of this post.. It is not at all relevant...


I have done everything everything I wished for.. Every thing of ma dreams....And finally I m here.. sitting in the sand.. hearing the roar of the sea in front... I know I have attained so much..but nothing at all.. I miss you.. damn.. I know, of all the laughter, giggles, pseudo smiles I m sure the real me is crying a bit; Only a bit i ll say.. 


It was my choice only , year back I chose to miss you..but dint knew then it is tough.. It was not tough either those days.. But now at this point of life, my lonely moments, my life everything misses you.. 

I ll say without doubt.. walking away from you was much easier for me... but now when I am in a different stage of life.. While am dealing with this different episode of life I am sure I miss you.. I miss being yours at least now....

Note: To all those who are present in my life now.. This is about me.. There is no fabrication.. Its a real thing... I am not trying to be a stereo typical broken heart.. I am not actually..

Damaged & Beyond repair

It was just a journey back to this soulful city again. But for some or other reason, everything seemed different and less colourful. This city has changed (may be the crowd) and become strange. All of a sudden, it’s full of borders and locks, and I am an intruder in a hostile home.

Thinking about colours, what I’ve learned is that they appear and disappear as well. And for every uttering remark of never and forever, it is life that’s going miserable. And about that dull painted canvas of love I feel like I may be the only one adding that bit of colour.

I simply wish I could go back to note down the shadows of each person passed by. To have that freedom to keep moving, as though this is not the place where I belong to, as though I don’t know these passing faces, as though I m here just to draw there caricatures, as though I even don’t know me, the actual me.

The journey of “conquering life” is probably over. The excuses have hit the level of tolerance, the philosophies were completely dissipated, the photographs even have faded & what left behind is a worn out me...  Damaged and beyond repair...

World will never be the same to all...

This new year was somewhat different for me.. 30^th December surprised me with a bunch of pebbles at Ananda Nilayam orphanage.. A team from our company visited the orphanage with New Year gifts and food for the children there. We laughed together, enjoyed, played, cried, shared complaints, ate and did a lot more. Being an orphan is not as easy as I thought once.. The realization drove me a bit more empathic.. Those laughter and brilliant characters made me feel my life is really more beautiful.

I am not sure about how many of them could recall my name. I may be a usual chettan or chechi visited them with gifts and food. Obviously I remember only few of them, those who danced and sang brilliantly; especially that black complexioned dancer Vennila. A strange thought of who made them be an orphan confused me a lot. Who might be there mother? She/ He could have been anybody: a stranger, a passerby, a waitress, a bus driver. She could have been anyone who saw the girl/ boy that day wrapped in a towel, or in rags. Or it might be the mother itself, who is not confident about the living she can offer to her child. It was no one’s fault, the writer whispers as she plays with the whirl wind of abcd’s around her head; But still… Do you think it’s true? Do you think.. I am responsible?

Go to sleep, Vennila.. World will never be the same to all.. Tomorrow may change your life…It may or May not be true. World is responsible. Silences are responsible. Lies are responsible. Empty promises are responsible. Expectations are responsible. Apathy is responsible. Desire is responsible. Absurdity is responsible. Idealism is responsible.

But people never are, especially in the case of a stranger..

And the tip of my pen would be too frail to hold up the weight of my thoughts

Sometimes too much reality hauls you down and you don’t know how to move amongst it, and then you meet someone who inspires you and you think about ;Well, what can I do about it that happened to you?”, actually you feel like doing something, and you realise that it is not hard to make a difference.

Couldn’t you keep those too in mind for long? Will the day make any changes in you..not for the day, but for one week atleast..? You didn’t and will not. You will never understand. This makes no difference to You, whether your smile is real or fake, whether the matter is dead or alive, whether that’s fear for it or excitement. You only trap those colours in layers but never in emotions...

I wish I could feel and take pictures of her person and not just her face. I wish I could touch this screen and hear her voice. Go to sleep Vennila... Go to Sleep... World will never be the same to all...

ഒരു കുട്ടികാലം

സ്വപ്നങ്ങളുടെ കയ്കോര്‍ത്തു പിടിച്ച ഒരു കുട്ടികാലം..

കുഞ്ഞു കാലുകള്‍ക്ക്  പാദുകം നല്‍കിയ പുല്‍ത്തകിടികള്‍..

മറവിയുടെ മൂടല്‍ മഞ്ഞു നീക്കി പിന്നിലേക്ക്‌ നടന്നിറങ്ങുമ്പോള്‍..

നനുത്ത പുല്‍ വിരിച്ച ആ  നാട്ടു വഴിയുടെ ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍ ഉണ്ട് ഇന്നും..

കാലം മഞ്ഞും മഴയും വീഴ്ത്തി ഓര്‍മ്മകളുടെ  പിന്നാംപുരതെക്ക്     

എടുതെരിയപെട്ട ഒരു പാവം കുട്ടികാലവും..

മഞ്ഞിന്റെ മറ നീക്കി ചങ്കില്‍ കൈ ചേര്‍ത്ത് നടക്കുമ്പോള്‍ കേള്‍ക്കാം

അധികം ദൂരെയോന്നുമല്ലാതെ..


പൂവിളിയും,പൂകുടയും കയ്യിലേന്തിയ 

ചന്തമുള്ള ഒരു കുട്ടിക്കാലത്തിന്റെ മര്‍മ്മരം..

 കുഞ്ഞു കൂടുകാരിയുടെ പാവാട തുമ്പിലെ

കോന്തന്‍ പുല്ലുകള്‍ പറിച്ചെടുത്ത നിഷ്കളങ്കതയും ...

പകരം അവള്‍  പറിച്ചു എടുത്ത തുംബപൂവിന്റെ പകുതി വാഗ്ദാനം ചെയ്ത 

വിശുദ്ധ ബാല്യത്തിന്റെ നൈര്‍മല്യവും ..

ഒരു ചിതലരിച്ച പുസ്തകതാളില്‍ നിറക്കൂട് തീര്‍ക്കുന്ന ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍ പോലെ ...

ഇന്ന് വരണ്ടുണങ്ങിയ നാട്ടിടവഴിയില്‍ , പാവടതുംബുകള്‍ തലോടാറില്ല..

പരസ്പരം പങ്കു വെയ്ക്കുവാന്‍ തുമ്പ പൂക്കളില്ല ...

എന്തിനു ഒപ്പം കൈ പിടിച്ചു ഉര്ച്ചന്കുഴികള്‍  നടന്നിറങ്ങാന്‍..

പഴയ നീയും , ഞാനും പോലും ശേഷിക്കുന്നില്ല ..

എല്ലാം സ്വപ്നങ്ങളോട്‌ ചാഞ്ഞു കിടക്കുന്ന പഴയ ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍ മാത്രം..

നിറം മങ്ങി പ്രതിഭലനം തരാന്‍ ആകാത്ത ഒരു പഴയ ഓട്ടുവിളക്ക് പോലെ...