THANKS GIVING....!

          Who ever thought of this,
             The thanks giving Day,
               I am thankful for, lest
                  I , forget  to thank.

          I thank not only, for what,
            I got readily, by birth,
              But also for,I got. though,
                by my sweat and blood.
     
           Though not I asked to be,
              Born,they gave the gift,
               Of life, my head and heart
                   I thank my ma and pa....

           I thank my teachers all,
              who, held my hand to walk,
                  to lift me up from the ditch
                     I fell , with a pat on my back.

           Looking back now, I need,
             To thank,those who envied me
                Ones who followed every step
                    Finding fault all the way

           For, They have made me  do ,
                Things, i would not, but for them,
                    It s time I thank them now,lest
                       I forget  , before I thank my friends

           Now, my dear friends, not many ,
                though, they know,I am grateful,
                  Ever, old and new, for being,
                     With me through thick and thin.
       
            I thank my kids too, for  the sheer joy,
              Of mothering them, for teaching them,
                  Bringing them up, has been the greatest,
                      fulfillment of my dreams!
           
            I thank, every day, The All mighty,
               For giving me the strength  to face the
                 Odds of life,  for peace and pray
                    For health and happiness to one and all.

             
             
      

MISS YOU BOOGI,...MISS YOU FOREVER !

                    Miss you,Boogi, miss you lots, miss you every minute of the day and night

                         not finding words,to say..how much I miss you,if only you were here,
                              one look at me you would know how much i missed you, not ,
                                 waiting for any words from me,for you knew my silence.
           
                 I miss you, Boogmani  when I wake up in the morning not finding you,
                       waiting to jump out of your bed, beside me,to get set n, go,

                              miss you, when i start the day with a bowl of oats
                                      not finding you behind me waiting for your share,
                                 
                  Miss you , when i have my bath and come out, not finding you,
                          sitting and waiting for me, on the mat  in front of the door
                                     missing you,not finding you, smelling my shampoo
                                          miss,my own shouting.."go out , have to dress up''!!!

                    Miss you,in the kitchen, in a corner,watching me cook,
                             missing  the tuk tuk,sound of your overgrown nails
                                 follow me from kitchen to room ,   room to hall , and
                                         to utility,and the to toilet, back to veranda,to and fro,
             
                    Miss you, running up to me ,  when the doorbell rings,..ting tong,
                           your running up and down, asking me to, pick up the phone,
                                miss you, running up to the gasman ,to reach before me
                                       who is  taking care of me now, as you did.?
                             
                     Miss you ,. turning back   locking the door to go say  bye,boogi
                           I search for  your shining eyes, looking down across  the greenery,
                                from the balcony, running  down to the garden as if  to catch a
                                       glimpse of  your love, going,away for ever, not to return !

                       Miss you, too my love,   and tears roll down, not to hear you   jump,n
                            scratch in excitement,  hop to garden  to see me, when i come back
                                    Home  no more a home ,with no one to welcome  me, like you,
                                       Miss your  warmest welcome,  making my house a home for me!

                        Miss   you at tea time too,  how you begged for you biscuits, though
                                   you knew ,  it,s all yours,,... oh that what made you cuter than kids
                                        oh those long walks, you made every kid stop  and talk  and giggle
                                             mothers   thanking me for, kids ate their food looking at you.....!

                          Boogy,   I found , the whole lot of, kids boys and girls, followed me
                                    when I  walked down the lane,with out you to the  park
                                        wanting to see you ... missing you, what shall I tell them?
                                          you are the darling you have shown us how to love !

                         Miss, you, when I feel low, when I get, bored, when I am sick
                                   when  my leg gets swollen, you would lick me ,when
                                       my ,,people  failed me, and i cry   you would
                                              look at me kindly, tell me,not  to worry

                                                 Miss You For Ever,My Darling Booga

                                sorry booga, how can We forget that, you saved our lives
                                     Not once, twice, you have killed Seven snakes,
                                        Seen around the house, at the risk of your
                                            Own life, looking at your tiny body and childlike face
                                               Who can ever believe that, you have killed saven of them!
                                                    YOU ARE THE REAL HERO!!!




,

what more proof you need,sure you know,
that you are one in our household ?
your health card with your vet,
is still around, with your ,
name...Boogi achia.....!

    Sure you were treated like a Queen..!
Y You had learnt to pose like one,
, How many pics, shall i click,
Good that i did, that is all we have now!
I Know,little can i return,
what you have given me,
but tried my best,to serve
you,when,you were in pain
when your limbs were weak
but,after all me a mere human
How do I know ,To love and serve like you!
.

                                           
                                           

MISS YOU BOOGI,....

MISS you BOOGI, miss you , miss you, miss

Baba.. SIMPLE. LIVING AND HIGH THINKING !

Kusum Achia
  That was my father...Not only he quoted this often..., but also practised   this...Simple living and high thinking..!We called him BABA....!
So much so that today  being  fathers day... when I wanted  to describe him  to myself....the first few words which I wrote was this ,which came out  with out making any effort to find words..!

       Yes, he was an epitome of simplicity...which was alluring......!   Though he was not very expressive of his love,  like most of the loving  fathers.these days  do, showering kids with presents.... little he could do even if he wanted , with his small  pay packet and six  children to shower his love..!
        But a doting father he was  ,, no doubt ..... i  remember..my share of a spoon full of ' egg flip ' ..he used to call it  .that was his morning routine...to beat the white of an egg or two, poured carefully.  .. to the last drop into.. a white porcelain .bowl  and beat it....tuk tuk tuk....the sound for which  we kids woke up.......

     I also remember  how he used to cut the big bananas into half and keep it ready for us...a fruit after lunch...
a habit that has followed me up to this day that  i am very  uncomfortable.. even if they are missing on my dining table...for a day! but believe me.. i  gulp the whole banana..!!!!  But it was my youngest brother...DEVI
whom he called Toot . Toota.. ... got a big piece out of the whole banana Baba, my father ate daily without fail.....!
     We, children owe our good voice and ear for music to him..(mother also)...the good singer he  was... we
used to enjoy his singing sessions...while shaving in the morning..,.some times with the  shaving soap on his chin.....
..some times in the kitchen...when we lined up on the bench.....waiting for mother to finish with the last roti.\If at all  i know few stories within  the  story    in   Mahabharata and Ramayana  i owe it  to him.. ..Baba..!
     Now i   realise, how well-read  he was...,.as   i  flip through pages of Ramayana and MAHABHARATHA.....that i had heard about Karna's sacrifice. Kunthi's, predicament,  parasuramas.  anger.... he used to enact..them all...!
Remembering his  student days.. he would tell us   about.  the good old times,.when he came on stage as ' krishna'..that. the  good looking    boy he was;....the audience  would shout. ONCE MORE ! ONCE MORE....    !    oh.....         we  would enjoy  the scene with so much of thrill and wait for more..! ''AMMA nimma  manegalali. namma krishnana. kandirenamma......"he would go on,and    sing how  mother YASHODA.....went searching for..BABY KRISHNA   in her neighbourhood !
  Some of my memories include....how he used to  offer us four annas.,...to who ever  gave him some special service.... like frying some dry fish for him, his favourite,  waiting for him, to open the door and serve food for him when he returned late from  the club ....,! ! have also earned  some money  by  copying some of the office papers, arriving at the summery of accounts....while he used to bring his office work .. home.  Then. . an Auditor ,  retired as Asst\ Registrar for cooperative societies  in coorg!
!...Later i  was also posted as auditor in the..bank..and that   brought back the memories.... of my first stint with my father!
     I thank him for  teaching me the value.of.  money...the pleasure of earning by offering your labour,for creating an interest   in mythological   stories..etc at that young an age.
A noble man  and a thorough  gentle man   indeed!
.But  it is the way he lived - it is,  simple living and high  thinking. that   has  stood by me...to this day!
  I am afraid   i  may go on and on as the memories are pouring out of me.... but  i will save it for another time!

AND NOW WHERE AM I..?

 

Looking at the picture a collage above, I had to search for myself,
Life is a collage by itself,....Where am I..?
wonder how you get lost ,
Amongst,all your own ,yes
with family n friends
amidst,children,,girls,
And boys, have them all
call them kith and kin
Reel yourself round and
round, go a merry go round,
Reel yourself in a whirlwind
slipping down swirling deep,
Now here now there,now around
years go by,day by day,mind,
mind your steps its very steep
oh, now where are you,me,thyself
you are lost,lost among your own,
Oh no, now here, now there
Lost your self , where am I ?
Life, is it not a collage,
Yes, created by myself
lost,find me in that collage
of life,find me where am I ?



Where am I?

The image of my heart...!...

Sure,dadoo's protective strong arms
are around you kids,all the way!
and for ever!
so,had I explained your exit,
from around us, a long time now,
two decades !
Sure, you keep up the promise,
neither failed us in life
Nor in death!

Golden womb - The Times of India

Golden womb - The Times of India

WHY...WHY AT ALL ?

Why,.why at all I fear the dark?
Sure the sun never fails to come !

Why do I, shiver , at the thunder
oh, the sky has never fallen down !

Why do we always, fall in love?
even as you go up and fly hand in hand !

Why is a rose is a rose,such a beauty,
but, why that thorn behind ?

why is the elephant made so big?
with a tiny,..tail behind?

why this, good and bad and ugly,n,
why be good at all to suffer all the way?

Why this births and deaths, why ,
be born at all, you have to die !

Why,.why the young die, dreams halfdone!
suffer the old, wait so long to die.

why do I worry,what lies in future,
it comes along any way,sooner though,

why this life; what the next, why,
does it haunt me, the never ending WHY'S?



WHY...Why...WHY..?

Yawning calls..!.

Tonight means,next morning,
Tomorrow means day after,
My saterday morning,a holiday,
Is your friday tiring workingday!

When your week end just ending,
MY hectic we

ek begins,.. you ring
finishing all your sunday chores,
oh, my Monday morning rush begins!

On my birth day,Tulsi, called on skype ,
WHY girl, looking sleepy, I asked,
Mommy,..Its time for me to sleep,a yawn,
Have to get up early,.another yawn!

Next, I ran up to the call,Wow !
Lakshmi dear on skype to wish me,
Why girl, you look sleepy, eyes puffed,
mommy...I got up just now,another yawn!

Chicken 65 ...Written the day I turned 65 !

Turned 65yrs of age today, like,
CHICKEN 65,we never missed in the menu card,
Am I not cooked to one, by this year, a good dish of chicken 65?


Skin out ,cut to size,some small,
some medium and some big, no, not just
with one stroke of fate, but many, one after another ?


Now seasoned, with blows of hot and cold,
Then, a liberal sprinkle of hot spices,
Is it red chilly powder, red tomato ketch up they poured on me ?


Was it yellow termeric for colour and glow,
Was it to make me colourful, in market row,
was it to make up ,and serve you with love,or bind you for ever?

Now comes chilled ice and more of spice,
Corriander and jeera for digestion ,
good to avoid infection, they said ,could I escape from it all ?


Ginger garlic paste, a pepper spread,
Spilt all over me,face and eyes,breathless,
Tears rolled down, or was it due to onions cut tuk , tuk ,tuk ?,


Awaa... what is it burning my skin!
yes ,it is The Salt to taste, now,
After all,it is the salt , can I escape from it all, THE SALT ?


Now some time to breath, not so bad,
As I breath,.. and sigh, oh what an aroma!
Breath away to glory,little did I know ,soon into the frying pan ?

Into the frying pan, the bigger the pan,
Better the heat, quicker the churn,
How big it can get,can you get a pan larger than life?

Cooked and cooked, till flesh is burnt,
To red and black, bruised and poked,No,
Should they be soft on you, just, poking to see if its done?

Bigger and thicker the vessel, swifter,
The churn,larger the wound,oh save me,
The last and final drops of viniger , to make it sour, shhh.. bear it all?

Turning 65 today, sure a real life
Dish delicious,can hear the ,clink of glasses,
Sure , CHICKEN 65 is done to a turn, today ,do you know for whose health they cheer,?
,

CRUEL CORRUPTION !

The recent fight against corruption, brought forth very strong emotions in me , that did not end with few comments on it in face book, and few invitations to the cause.As the news came that we have succeeded in having the consent of the govt; to have the relevant bill..my mind went back to my first encounter with the ,Cruel Corruption, at the age of 21,rather I was
a victim of the Cruel corruption!
To cut the long story short,..At 21 I got my M.A.degree With a first class ,1st rank ,
and a Gold medal to adorn myself. In my father's words ,'' passed with flying colours''Who was the proudest man ,when the local newspaper editor,at Mercara in coorg,contacted him for a photo of mine, even before I reached home with my results !
What I got from my father when I reached home from Mysore,where I studied,is my most cherished memory of my younger days and of my achievements to this day ! My Baba, my father I saw was
brimming with pride, and while giving an affectionate pat on my cheek..''Nada Mova ''he said,My Daughter !!!

This was of immense value for me, as I had won it ,after being hospitalised for a food poisoning,the last day of class , after a party ,the class socials , just before leaving for preparatory holidays for the final exam.My father had to take me home back,from the hostel,..he said,while packing my box, ''enough of your studies..!your health is more important to me''

But with my mothers treatment, packed back to hostel,TO take the exam, against my fathers warnings.I had got this result...After I wrote the exam,which I took with least preparation not to my satisfaction. Imagine my agony,when I could not complete the answer to one of the questions , not because I did not know, but my right arm was paining badly due to number of injections I had,while in hospital ! Thank God , I had Worked hard,during the whole two years of the course.
soon after,I was appointed as a lecturer , in Govt college ,Bangalore, which I enjoyed and was very sure that will lead me to fulfil my ambition of getting a PHD in my subject.
But soon I had to appear before Public service commission to have a permanent post of a lecturer!I took the interview, did well, while coming out,little did I know that the PSC,a body meant for gaurding us from external influence , and pressure had succumbed to , corruption.MY services were terminated with as many as 20 others who were appointed on temporary basis .
They had appointed a person who had passed with 2nd class with no teaching experience,
A ministers candidate! this hit my young,hard working and ambitious mind full of dreams , like a bolt from the blue! I was not prepared for this,being unaware of wicked world and ways of corrupt officials and politicians.
How I managed to get out of this shock and changed my career path is another story....
Never got my Phd...joined a bank as an officer ,but also had an opportunity to teach in banks staff training coollege !
AT 21 when i became a victim of this corrupt society, the revolt in me against this bribe and corruption,erupted, but as an young mind, already influencd by vivekananda, and mahathma gandhis values,could not fight back by any other means other than trough law of the land.
devoid of support, time, energy money ,ignorant of whome to complain, with no platform to fight,
had to try to get another job soon ,to earn for the family. could not afford to continue to fight this injustice done to me, though the fire was burning inside me!Though I joined the group of employees to file a case which went on for years. During the sessions in the court which my father attended,the Honourable Judge is said to have commented,in my case " oh,your candidate is too good for the post.'' jokingly,that was the small consolation for me !
That was the day I decided that I will not accept any bribe, and will not offer any, in what ever position I am placed in life.I worked as Bank official for 30 years, and successfully kept up my promise to myself, and got my work done without paying any bribe. though I had to pay heavy price for it but saved my values and principles to this day. I am 65years and feel happy now ,
after 40 years there is a revolt against corruption and regret that the media was not so powerful then,which i would have surely made use of,
for fighting the CRUEL CORRUPTION!

Who am I...?

    Who am  i...?
 

      I remember I have been asking this question to myself, since the time I have been a teenager off and on,but dismissed it as a mad thought . knew it was not a spiritual question either, but was in quest of my identity !
Now that I have crossed the age of sixty,..also crossed ups and downs of life too many,the question comes up in my mind often . It is time I vent my thoughts on this.

CHILDHOOD

Sure my childhood must have been a bliss, like any body else's, born to noble parents
in a good family. Second of six,got enough love,good education, good upbringing ,must have been joyful! I have no childhood pictures to prove this,I stand tall and proud...a proof myself !
Naturally ,Who am I,did not bother me then.

TEENAGE

Yes, by the time I finished school and was in teens, when ever in a pensive mood, asked
who am I? But I could identify myself only with my name.I have a beautiful name, Kusum...my
parents called me Kusumaa...to get me out of the deep thoughts I used to go into,
most of the times,my head buried into an open book.My kith and kin,called later my husband fondly ..Kusum.! Friends ,colleagues even teachers liked Kusum ,for a fair,lean
delicate looking girl and not Bollamma, my official name in school, office and my passoport.So I was Kusum at home. As I am writing this I realised that,there is no body to call me Kusum ,in and arround me at home for the long past twenty years now ! No doubt feel strange to hear that name, once in away...!Used ,more to refer to me than to call me.

SO AM I BOLLAMMA!

Yes, I like this Name,identified with it ,through out my school,college days. praised as one of the best students,called out from stages during annual days, to get prizes by this name. This was the most musical name ,Bollamma, when I was called out, to receive my gold-medal with the degree,for my post-graduation from Mysore university !(I was, P for my Family name, S for my fathers name Somaiah.) P.S Bollamma an upright,honest ..Bank official(so do I believe)..Even if it was otherwise, that was my name through out Thirty years of service in the bank.

MY ROLES IN THE FAMILY

.By the time I am retired I have been playing many roles in the family as a women, i tried to identify myself while trying to find an answer to the same old question ..Who AM I . Growing up the first role was that of a daughter! I am happy the way I performed as daughter fulfilling the aspirations of my parents for me, and assisting them to bring up the other kids as the only earning member ,after my father retired from service.Yes ,I feel like an young daughter when ever, I ring up my mother who is Ninety! Long live my mother ! Till she is alive
I am a daughter!

A SISTER TOO!

Being second of the lot , was sister to three brothers and two sisters. A big family , now I realise the fun of playing ,sleeping together, blanket, and pillow fight, sing and pray together. Now, all of us are above fifty years, busy with their own lives,have no time to meet once in away Growing up has taken its toll...wish we had the same bond!!!

A BELOVED WIFE..?

I was lucky enough to be the beloved wife of my husband as I dreamt for myself. Sure this
was one of the major roles I identified myself with, when god blessed me with the love of my life.This was one of the beautiful part of my life, but like most of the beautiful things on this earth ....
did not lost long!I lost all my identity , When I lost him, before he reached fifty, leaving me alone to fend for my self to bring up two sweet little girls for which he had not prepared me by being overprotective, all the time .He failed me only in death.! sure, he would not have, if only he could help and fight for it !!!NOW,...who am I.?
I had no time to sit back and brood. .But He had left behind a great consolation , when he told me, before he breathed his last, that,I have been more than a wife, up to his expectation,that gave me strength enough to be both a mother and father to my kids. by the way my query ..who am I, faded away..! I had to answer too many other questions , doubts,to my own children and to people who were eager to see how I will live up to the new title they have given me..A WIDOW!

NOw after twenty years of my being a single parent, it is only a month since my daughter tulsi has left to Australia, queensland university, to study for PHD, I remember, she as a nine year old child sat on my lap, looking at people crying over the loss of her father, asking me'' Mommy, are we not going to school any more..?''My elder one Lakshmi had no questions to ask, at fourteen,showing immense maturity, had only assurances , which we gave each other..!I introduced
my self as Mrs Achia..as I felt protected by calling myself Mrs ACHIA.
never the less i am proud of being called so.Any how it was time for me to be a mother and father at the same time and , a SUPER MOTHER !!

MOTHERHOOD..!

MOTHERHOOD itself is a combination of many roles. Here I was left with nothing but multiple roles of a father, a bread winner, a super mother !, Take care of not only material needs but emotional upheavals too,a tough task master to give them right values, and soft enough to wipe

their tears. HuH ! Need to ask myself ,WHO AM I..?
NOW, after twenty years of being a single mother, both girls are married ,settled away from me,both abroad, I sit in the cosy corner of my veranda with a book , still wonder sometimes
WHO Am I.?..which role of mine shall I call my own..?

Can I settle myself boldly with the answer with the last role I am playing, yes I am a mother!No
doubt I am proud to be called mother of Lakshmi and Tulsi.yes I enjoyed the joys ,pleasure of seeing them grow, suffered the pain , sorrow of sending them away,..had it all, like any other mother,I Thank ALLMIGHTY for all the strength and blessings I count, in addition to asking WHO AM I..?
ITs time for me to look back and, also look in front ,to the mirror reflecting my wrinkled face,with a body frail after a bout of Typhoid mocking at me!Who wants your MOTHERING.?your kids already are wives,ready to take up new roles, They do not need your Mothering any more.!
but I cant help, mother is a mother always... I mother them,..at the risk of my concerns become interference, my anxiety, nagging,.. my need to know what is happening with them, a remote control,an assertion, and hence irritating.!How can I tell them..NO.! It is that unstoppable force of gushing motherly love ,for the chicks flying away from the nest I made ,to protect them from ,innumerable dangers gnawing at us from the wicked world outside..!
They are busy making their own life worthwhile and I follow them,wishing and prayingfor them
while they are chasing their own dream..! Does it happen to all parents or is it peculiar to me..?
what ever it is ,they are the apple of my eyes! And they know it... yes they know it!
now again its time for me to wonder WHO am i..?

....BOOGY my FRIEND..!

oh,how do I thank God for his mercy'on me, for my pet, BOOGY ,which follows me wherever I go, sits with me where ever I sit, looks at me kindly whenever I feel low, licks me,when I have pain in my ankle,dances on floor to please me, gets up in the night if i get up..... company for my long walks...!
NOW.. have I got an answer to the question..Who am I..?
kids in my lane around my house,are also friends with MY BOOGY and call me..Boogy Aunty..!