A mother named India

A Mother named India. 

She had great sons and daughters
Who called her Ma, and loved her dearly
They wrote great words, sang great songs
Glorified, praised and adored her!

Her daughters served, her sons fought
She was worshiped by all her kids
She was envied and she lured
Many people, near and far

Diamonds, rubies, she lacked nothing
Riches plenty, she was adorned
A beauty unique, lush and lavish
She was the queen of all empires

Sword and daggers, bows and arrows
They used them not to protect her 
Through the silent path of Ahimsa
They built a land of calm and freedom 

Alas, when all her enemies left 
Her own kids turned her worst foes
Killed each other in the name of gods
Left her in a shameful state

They won her back, the freedom she lost
But enchained her in a cage forever
Ever since, she lives in silence
Without words, she quakes in fear

A helpless mother, with rotten kids
Who saddens her with a million crimes
Every year she wonders why
They salute her in a foreign style

Years passed, she is slowly killed
No one cares, but for a day or two
Though her tricolour flag flies high 
She stays unmoved by the rituals done

Her tears dried up like rivers dry
Seeing sons die in violence crude
Her sighs echoes but never heard
In the violent cries of daughters dear

Mother India, you know your kind
Loudspeakers, speeches and parades
Another Independence Day is passing by
For proud Indians to brag again

From my corner where I hide
I wish for peace for a little while
Till I can't walk on your streets, safe
There's nothing to wish you, Mother India.

From my own cage!!

Though there’s nothing big to discuss

Have to share this topic, now

I just opened my door today

Stepped out for a while this evening

Not on the road, to my own balcony

To put some manure and water the plants

As soon as I started, came a stupid old man

As if to relax on his balcony

Best time for sightseeing, idiotic creature

Was seated in comfort, staring at me

Felt if I could pick up a stone and fling it on him

I wished that it would bring me some comfort

But I can’t do a thing, will our society tolerate

A poor old man being stoned?

So poor me, took all my tools

Stopped my work and climbed down the steps

As soon as I reached down, he went inside

But even if I climb up again, that imbecile would come again

Tomorrow dawn, before light spreads

I must go again to tend my plants

Bitter gourd, ladies finger, tomato plants, forgive me

I must check the time even to pour some water

I will tie around the green garden net, but

I won’t be a sight for a worthless old man

Only a solace; a bit of comfort

I have my own Malayalam to write this down

To read, I have my friends

A few souls who are human

Thank God, one more day got over

In my own cage, where there’s no freedom

Bottom of Form

 The translation of the original poem in Malayalam is less expressive. But still those who feel the pain of being stared at, just because you have a human body, will understand what I am trying to say.

എന്റെ സ്വന്തം കിളിക്കൂട്ടിൽ നിന്ന്!!!!

പ്രത്യേകിച്ചു വല്യ കാര്യമൊന്നുമില്ലെങ്കിലും
പറയാതെ ഇന്നു വയ്യ ഈ വിഷയം

വെറുതെ എൻ കതകൊന്നു തുറന്നു ഞാനിന്നു
വൈകിറ്റൊരിത്തിരി നേരം പുറത്തേയ്ക്കിറങ്ങി

റോഡിലല്ല, എന്റെ സ്വന്തം ബാൽക്കണിയിൽ
ചെടിയ്ക്കു വളമിടാൻ, വെള്ളമോഴിയ്ക്കാൻ

പണി തുടങ്ങിയതും ഒരു മുതുകിളവൻ വന്നു
വെറുതെയിരുന്നു കാറ്റുകൊള്ളാനെന്ന ഭാവത്തിൽ

കാഴ്ചകാണാൻ ഒരു നല്ലനേരം, മുതുക്കൻ
എന്റെ നേരെ തിരിഞ്ഞങ്ങിരുപ്പായി

ഒരു കല്ലെടുത്തൊരു ഏറു കൊടുത്തിരുന്നെങ്കിൽ
എനിക്കൊരിത്തിരി ശാന്തി കിട്ടുമെന്നാശിച്ചു ഞാൻ

വയ്യല്ലോ ഒന്നും നമ്മുടെ സമൂഹം പൊറുക്കുമോ
ഒരു പാവം കിഴവൻ കല്ലേറു കൊണ്ടെങ്കിൽ?

അതുകൊണ്ടു ഞാൻ പാവം എടുത്തു എൻ ആയുധങ്ങൾ
പണിയും നിറുത്തി ഞാൻ ഇറങ്ങി താഴത്തേയ്ക്ക്

ഞാൻ താഴെ വന്നതും അയാൾ പോയി അകത്തേയ്ക്ക്
ഒന്നുകൂടി പടി കേറിയാലും വരുമല്ലോ കാലമാടൻ

നാളെ വെളുപ്പിനു വെളിച്ചം വരും മുൻപേ
പോകണം  വീണ്ടുമെന്റെ ഉദ്യാനപാലനത്തിനായ്

പാവലേ, വെണ്ടയേ, തക്കാളിച്ചെടിയേ, മാപ്പ്
ഇറ്റു വെള്ളമോഴിയ്ക്കാൻ പോലും സമയം നോക്കണം ഞാൻ

പച്ചവലകെട്ടിയെങ്കിലും ഞാൻ പണിയും, പക്ഷെ
ഒരു  പടുകിഴവനു കാണാൻ കാഴ്ചയാവാനില്ല ഞാൻ

ഒരു സമാധാനം മാത്രം; ഒരിത്തിരി ആശ്വാസം
ഇതൊന്നെഴുതുവാൻ എന്റെ സ്വന്തം മലയാളമുണ്ടല്ലോ

വായിക്കുവാൻ എന്റെ കൂട്ടുകാരുണ്ടല്ലോ
മനുഷ്യരായ കുറച്ച്ച്ചാത്മാക്കൾ ഉണ്ടല്ലോ

നന്ദി ദൈവമേ, ഒരു ദിനം കൂടി കഴിഞ്ഞല്ലോ
സ്വാതന്ത്ര്യമില്ലാത്ത എൻ സ്വന്തം കിളിക്കൂട്ടിൽ!!!!

Inglish Vs English

I don't remember who taught me the letters of the English alphabet. Before I knew that I was learning, I had started it and it goes on till today. Looking back, I see an ocean, and when I look forward, I see the very same. So much I've learnt and so much I've to learn.

I owe my English knowledge to my schools and the English teachers and the English books that I had. My passion for English gained me a Master’s in the same. Still like most of the Keralites, I couldn't speak much in English as Keralites learn English, to read and write.

I remember one family member taking me to an exhibition, to explain about the product and I was dumb the whole day and he said he was ashamed of me! The biggest blow was when I spoke to a lady at WHO, Geneva where my husband used to work. Whatever she asked I nodded or said 'yes' and filled the blank with a stupid smile. At the end she asked my husband 'Doesn't she speak English?' To my shock, my husband replied, 'Of course! She has a master’s in English literature! I wished the earth would open and swallow me.

Then I got an American friend in Switzerland, with who I used to chat for hours about our babies and baby problems. The only pastime was to watch TV and CNN and M TV became my relief from boredom. Finally I learnt to speak French and English.

After 7 years in Swiss, we decided to settle down in Chennai. Chennai is a place where everyone speaks English and use mobile phones. Even vendors on the road side use English words in their common vocabulary. I had no big problem till I joined a school as a French teacher. My French was better than my English. I thought except Keralites, all could speak good English.

But when I listened, in all the words where we use 'O', Tamilians use 'A' and as I listened to people of every state, they all had one problem or the other when it comes to English pronunciation.

I was constantly laughed at as a 'Malayali' for my 'Malayali accent' and I thought I am the worst English speaker in Tamil Nadu. Then I noticed that they make another set of mistakes in English:  Xerox as Jerox, Zero as 'Jeero', and Paul as Pal etc. Malayalis pronounce them as Serox, Sero, and Pol. My greatest shock is the word Tamizh being pronounced as Taamil by the native speakers though they have a letter ‘zh’ in their alphabet. My confidence grew and I started taking precaution, not to make mistakes. My husband taught me that in the pronunciation of 'Almonds', 'l' is silent, it is not 'cope up with', but 'cope with', not 'mellow down', but 'mellow' and so many other things.

My kids used to laugh at the Malayali English accent and love to imitate and laugh. I had only one defence; a joke that I read somewhere. 'One day a Malayali was asking a Tamilian for 'OYIL'. The Tamilian didn't understand anything even after repeated hearing. Finally, when he got a clue, he asked 'AAyila?'. People from North India Espeaks about Espoon and Eschool.

I don't want to go to the details of it; but the fact is, to any native speaker of English, there is no Keralite or Tamilian or North Indian English. All they know that it is not any other English and they have named all the Indian accent and usage as 'Indian English'.

So my observation says, if you speak good English, you cannot survive in India. If you speak with any other accent in a different state, you are ridiculed. The best side of Indians is that, if they hear any foreign accent where nothing sounds like English, they say 'Wow!'  The worst thing is, if any Indian speaks like a native speaker, he will be most laughed at.

It is not the pronunciation, but the style that matters the most. Those who pretend that their English is the best put a false accent and get noticed as a good speaker. But why Indians laugh at other Indians for their Indian English? The result is, none of the Indians tried to learn the language in its depth, but wasted their time at laughing at each other. I have heard so many people who ridicule others making mistakes in their English.

As a lover of English, I have decided to leave Indian English (if I can call it Inglish) and am trying to learn the language in its depth. There is no Indian state which I have found speaking English well. Though Keralites are the most laughed at, I feel that Manglish changes to Tanglish, Hinglish etc. as we travel through the states of India.  

I don't defend any state’s English as I am sure that there's nothing called ‘Malayalam English, Tamil English or Hindi English' in India. Listen to the natives of the land of English. Only then each one will understand what English is and how to speak it. I am going to learn UK English as I am not so happy about my diction. I don't want anyone to laugh at my Manglish and I don't want to learn Inglish as no native speaker will certify it as English. At the end of my venture, when I pronounce words in UK English, people will laugh even more as they will stone me for acting like English.

A non-native speaker, the influence of their mother tongue is allowed but mispronunciation is not. It is great to have a good accent, but it isn't fair to laugh at someone's accent. I challenge those who laugh at me 'Laugh at me if you think that your pronunciation and accent are perfect.' We may think that we are better than others or that we are the best. The fact remains the same: All Indians speak Indian Inglish!!!

Love Never Fails! Love and Serve!

Two schools have made the same impact in my life; one, where I was a student and the other where I work as a teacher. From both these institutions I have learnt basically the One Fact called Love which made me believe that anything done out of the pure intention called Love will be fruitful.

As a child, the best and perhaps the only thing that I enjoyed was the school assembly. The most memorable was the first day assembly where our Headmistress would address us with the same story year after year. It goes like this: The Headmistress asked the girls, what our school motto is. And one girl answered 'Love never dissolves (into nothing)'. The student mistook the Malayalam word Uthirnnu (to shed in the form of powder) as Kuthirnnu (to get soaked or dissolved). Both the words meant 'to disappear into nothing'. She admired the student's answer and she used to tell us the greatness of God's love which will never fail or disappear. I never understood the real meaning of the motto 'Love never faileth', but was sure that it meant everything. I left the school with poor marks but I had marked every good word that my teachers told.

Ms Baker memorial School, started by the English missionaries back in 1820, is named after Ms Baker, who made education possible for girls. The missionaries would go to each house to tell the parents, the necessity of educating girls. My great grandma was one among the six girls who made the first batch. Our building had wooden steps, shutters and flooring and I am sure that none of us can ever forget the sound of the footsteps. The huge pillars round and smooth and the wide steps spoke of the European architecture. Later the school was rebuilt in the same campus. Though my heart broke to see our school building changed into a shopping complex, the school motto and anthem remained unchanged. The hill on which the school was built is called Baker hill and the bus stop, Baker junction and the light green shade of our uniform, Baker green!

Ours was a school without a stick. As they preached Love, they practiced it too. The school survived without any corporal punishment, thanks to the Love that got us disciplined. The most precious lesson, perhaps the only lesson that I learnt and believed was the powerful motto of our school 'Love Never Faileth'. Among the many songs and hymns, the school anthem rings in my ears with its words taken from The Holy Bible.

"Love never faileth

Love that all prevaileth

Saviour Christ O hear me now

And give Thy love to me"

Now I am doing my schooling once again as a teacher, learning everyday from my students. There is a charm about our school which I cannot explain in words. I could never comprehend how an ordinary school in a small town like Salem brings out confident and smart girls who can fly till any height. 

Again, I am convinced of the motto of the school 'Love and Serve'; the words of Blessed Sr. Anne Marie Javouhey. She came from France and started many educational institutions in many impoverished countries. Our school is beautifully named 'Cluny', after the town of Cluny in Eastern France where the Cluny congregation was born. The first batch was started in 1805, with a few girls as a result of Rev Sisters going around and making the parents convinced about the importance of educating girls. 

God has a special plan for each of His creation and I thank Him for taking me through these beautiful routes of Love. I am glad that though I missed academic excellence, I am blessed with a conviction which scales above every height of this world, with the knowledge that God is Love; a Love that never fails; a Love that enables us to serve!

A salute to my brothers called soldiers!

They boarded the train with all their loads

Down the seats they pushed them all

As their dear ones waved them good bye

Both returned to their seats in a sigh

Hairstyle proved their identity

Nation's keepers, country's servants

Destined to leave their kith and kin,

To forgo home for their home country

Bravery, loyalty, their brains filled with

Devotion to Bharat Matha and her children too

With their uniform as a mask to their lives

To kill or be killed, all for the nation's cause

I was coming home after a visit to my parents

Returning to my family that waits in love

Drenched in sweet memories of love and care

I never thought of these simple people around

One of them spread the white jamakkaalam

He stretched himself, without a word

His eyes were swollen, maybe he cried all night

No smile, a blank brave face he wore as a look

A phone call came, from his beloved wife

A chat which broke in sad silence

His last words were too sharp and firm

"This is the life of a soldier..Don't cry"

He gazed at the phone as it ended with a beep

He left her to tears and tried to swallow his pain

There ended the tearful chat of two broken hearts

Silence couldn’t bring an end to their thoughts

She would've wiped her eyes with the edge of her sari

And must’ve taken a breath, to face her life alone

Or would've hugged her kids so close

To draw some solace and hope to move on

He didn't talk a word to his friend

With the white sheet he covered from head to toe

He looked like a corpse clad to be buried

I wondered if he was covering his tears

Late was his lunch, from a big pack he gulped

May be his mom packed it with a heart full of love 

When will he taste another homemade food?

When will he eat with his family again?

Never in my day or night or sleep or work

Have I ever thought about these guardian angels!

Each moment they risk their life for the country

While we kill each other in hatred and vengeance

In my heart a war had already started

Did I take all these people for granted?

The Jawans and Kisans who protect and feed me

Giving all the comforts which no money can buy 

There are very many Indians who know not

That there are soldiers on borders who guard

Ready to fight the enemy without a choice

To save us from swords and gunshots

Brethren, I feel sorry for my ignorance

I feel proud of you and your service

With no one and nothing to protect you

You provide us a place to live in peace

For many, you may be lesser lives made to doom

But you are the greatest, and deserve our respect

"Jai Jawan!" "Jai Kisan!" I'll keep you in my thoughts

My prayers and wishes for your homecoming, safe

As I got down at dusk from the train

He was hidden under the white sheet again

As I entered home to join my family cheers

I knew that I live in the charity of these selfless people

May your parents be blessed for their sacrifice

May your wife be blessed with courage to fight her pain

May your children look at you with respect and love

May God bless you for making our home, a heaven!

Woman is not a word, she makes the world!!!

I go through a kind of feeling

Become conscious of the fact

That I am a woman and not a man

The same question arises, 'so what'?

SMS and mails from males and females

I wonder if it's an award or reward

24 hours to celebrate womanhood

For sustaining human kind, perhaps?

March 8th is a remainder to women

To fight for her rights and defend her kind

To tell the world that women deserve better

Social equality and powerful positions

When we cannot walk in the streets

When sun is shining and day is on

When a man is needed to save us from men

What is left to celebrate today?

I wish we had a Men's day

Where no man will ill-treat a woman

But see them as their feminine gender

A day of freedom from the clutch of fear

I wish to see a Human day 

Without the walls of horror and separation

Without ego or pride or supremacy

Without brutal acts and murders

A human's power isn't in the fist or head

It lies in the heart of each person

A fire which one ought to burn

To spread the light of love and life

Why are we proud to have a day?

Why should we prove what we are?

Can’t we just be who we are?

Can’t we just enjoy what we are?

I won’t wish any of my friends today

As every day of our life ends in victory

Survival as a woman proves our power

Submission of a woman proves our patience

Don’t judge a woman by her frail physique

Don’t mistake her when she sheds her tears

Don’t put her down even if she is helpless

Don’t you see her pushing her cart alone?

Women, the most wonderful and beautiful

A magnificent creation that carries life within

When you abuse and rape and kill her

You kill a mother, a sister, a daughter

A few of you look at us as human beings

Others are blind folded with your ignorance

To speak of a woman, you must love them

She’s power, a treasure, hidden within her

Salute to the women who lives and loves

Blessed are you, if you see her as power

Peace to you, if you give her some space

Happy are we,  if we stand as one human kind.