Tom Jose

I thought I would add a new word in my blog every day so as to avoid the boredom of ‘my’ monotonous stories.

He is my uncle and he died when I was not even 1 year old. He was very brilliant and he had a rich poetic mind. We have a collection of some of his works and I must say that they are so beautiful. I have been using his dictionary form my childhood and I have a special attachment for that. The pages are still so fresh as was him when he died of Malaria in his 20’s.My mom says that I was the only kid in our family whom he used to play with and share his love…

Azure- bright blue and it is quite a poetic word

*Bam boo zle-mistify,cheat,trick*

The profile is looking much cool than i am

Am actually trying to write down something since my body wants me to stop saturating my brain or it be heart.These days I never miss a chance to think of a writing material from whatever small phenomena that comes before me.When u prefer to write down it all and not just make some one bored with ur long speech ,u can’t stop urself from writing for not more than 2 days.

As I have not yet given up this act of writing and since this gives me a good feeling of ‘exhaustion followed by a moment of solitude after the creation’ ,and so as I go on , I am actually loving writing.The only problem is that I expect me to write master-pieces only.Indeed a heavy duty on me.

What the curtains made me realize

The realizations are as follows:

It has been four days since I have closed up my life in my house itself.Some one had to take Tom Hanks to an island to let us feel how would be it like for a social being to be made a loner(Cast Away).But here I picked up that option quite naturally.Today when I was as usually hallucinated by the dim golden yellowish light coming through my window curtains , I was thinking-Wont the prison be some what similar to this?The same ambience , the same members with guests signing in and off , the voluntarily or involuntarily started conversations , the stories of the golden ages of each one’s life , the grumblings about fate…

As my brother was saying , there is nothing wrong that u guys wake up so late.

Grow amazingly with the world a child can give u..

And think naturally , avoid the filtering before even getting involved in something to ensure that u will be passionate for that..

I was given a precious offer by mom to teach my cousin, seeing him having a hard time with his studies.He is in first standard and is very very intelligent and eccentric in this age of his. We were not so good friends u know. I have a gang of small cousins with whom I am very friendly than the elder one’s. The time spent with them increases the value of each moment of my life. No deliberate acts of love , sympathy , empathy-just speak out what u want to, cry when u want to , turn it to a laugh with no fear about ur public presence, go after some thing u r crazy for not thinking of the results,..Ahh,splendid life..

I am so happy that the kids have given me a membership in their gang no matter the age difference is some 12or 13 years.

To be a teacher,it is the very act of helping one to survive and rise high in his concepts. U may be the one who twisted his life.U make him love something and u can make him curse that very key concept which he couldn’t understand very well.

What I am teaching him is mostly the spellings of English words.So I always ends up in shoutings bcoz he is not ready to work on such unwanted things.His attitude is like,when its time he knows how to do it well beyond than we would expect from him.The only worry for him is that will he get time to play video games after this peak hours of studies. The moments bring out a good friend in me , a good sister in me , the mother in me. And the normal human in me.I keep on shouting at him to stop him from going into his world of vehicles and quite serious worries about ,’Come on, when r u going to leave me alone?’.My love for him increases proportionally with these shouting.

Today I was keeping on shouting at him and at last he told me,’Will u please stop it and let me think?’

Then I was telling him where to use Mr. and Mrs. , their spellings and all.Then I made him write down both the words and he was saying all the letters m,a,h,f,etc.So I asked him to tell at least the difference b/w both the words and he replied very seriously,’Actually one ‘s’ is missing’.Me and my mom is having fun fully loaded with him here.

He reminds me of the movie Taare Zameen Par as he takes d for b and vice versa and he says ‘boy’ as ‘b o y’ and writes it as ‘y o b’.He doesn’t want to stick on to spellings and all bcoz he knws the concepts very well and according to him,’ Anyways I get a chance to go through the book before the test and I can easily memorize all these.Then why should I waste my time?’

‘M’ loving the smart boy and we soon became thick friends.

Coming up soon in this log:

My encounter with soil

My efforts to learn guitar

My daily tips on cooking

It is forecasted that this sessions will start from next week onwards if I don’t give up the ideas at their birth time as usual.

Let me say…

Should I fill tears in my eyes when my relatives talk to me in a skeptic way coz I do things i feel right and at times show some justice to myself? I am still a kid for all. They are no wrong ,I have all those qualities to be worth. Is it proving that one will always be looked u with a wrong eye for the one bad thing u did against the law no matter how strictly u follow them either as part of struggle for existence or due to some revelations or realizations. To feel guilty is a very dirty emotion when u have no one to confess it all and none to ask for forgiveness. The emotions started bcoz of ur way of taking things , it goes on bcoz of ur habit of carrying things along , it never ends bcoz of ur attitude of never giving up the past.

Yesterday my grandma was telling something,”the days are completely gone from the hands of the parents”.She is an energetic old lady except for the her pretty bad heart problems. She is the best one u can look up to know what is gratitude, who is a mother , what is it to be a woman, how long can one be patient, how pleasing one can smile and fill one’s heart with love.She carries the prayers for all the generations to God. Now according to her she is going through the purifications to have an entry to Heaven and hence suffering for all the sins she committed.

I have so many old one’s in my family and neighborhood. So I get to know what they think of death and how was it like when they were ‘dying last time’.

The old man living next to my house,has so many calculations about time since he don’t have a stop watch in his memory to know where the day started and when it is going to end. All he do is call her daughter every 10 minutes to ask the time and make sure he had proper food.

My appa’s mother spent her days reading all the worse news about earthquakes , suicides , accidents ,…She is afraid of wind , lightning , rain,…for her,nature has only a cruel , pathetic face.It may help her to have no attachments to the beauties of the world and so give up her life with a bit less hesitation.

Now if u ask me about death,I am afraid of that.It may be bcz I have not yet known that I have already lived a good portion of my life or may be am planning to live a splendid life every midnight. But if we live with the only intension to live, it all becomes very selfish, selfless and purposeful. I wish for a good supply of adrenalin when some thing goes unusual and say it again ,‘not now’.

U may call me a coward,but facts sometimes make u ashamed and sometimes make u admirable and adorable.

The last hope that some air might find way to u, to sustain ur life may be the most hopeful or the most hopeless desire in one’s life.

I define and redefine myself ,sticking on to what I used to be in my school days.I then soon state that the definition is wrong since it never make the nearest match with what I call ‘what I used to be then..’.I think hard to make me feel very bad about myself.When the sigma value of the deductions reaches approximately the infinity,a negative * negative effect takes place all of a sudden and I just realize its time to be positive.One or two days..and then am back in my cocoon.

In there all I do is think and think ,no processing ,no discoveries , no new implementations , no outputs , no corrections and the same life again.

I had great trouble while participating in writing competitions .All I could think is something within or around me with me as the centre of the story.I think its coz I really care about how I appear to others.’Are they really liking me?’ and it all ends up in ‘how I used to be and watch out how am I now’.

I carry along with me the greatest burden of trying to be unique.I don’t admire or rather admit my abilities and weep for what I have not yet recognized.I think I should not say ‘I don’t have that in me’.And that’s what am learning these days. Being unique at the cost of not enjoying the good ,funny things u ‘committed’ coz no one really recognized u,it is sounding weird to me at least now.

It was there in a movie or something , ‘Thank God,I am not famous in this age of mine,coz I can really work more hard’.

A friend of mine in school used to try to get in touch with me when I was in college as every one tried to.I just never do that.I just forget it all once finished or I just deny my memory.One day we had a pretty good fight over the phone coz he thought that I was making fun of his manly intensions on me.And the act of being social was over again.It all peeped up again today when we met again quite accidentally.The crisis was intensified with my great quality of forgiveness or rather weak memory. I could’nt recognise him and by the time I did ,he felt the same humiliation from my side. He tried to shower some boyish dialogues as the boys in Kerala do and quit the scene.But what I was thinking all the while was what were the reasons coz of which I lost a good companion of mine as I wont call him a friend.

I was not satisfied with how I write,the way I narrate what I see infront of my eyes , the ways others interact with me. I always think it should’nt be like any one else’s feelings. Part of the uniqueness theorem when I was sticking on the patterns to make it attractive. Now I have stopped the filtering process.Till what ‘I’ write moves out from me and it goes to him or her or a flower or a painting or a pencil and even after.After all being myself is not a bad idea coz its all about how I perceive the sights infront of me and how I perceive other’s perceptions till this part of their life.