On the eve of Women's Day...A Tribute to a Great Woman! (Written on behalf of her daughter)

They call me Nirbhaya

And I call myself Nirbhagya

Till that day I was one among you

Today I am alone, I lost my life

I’m alone but not so far

From the sobs of my Dad and Mom

How can I leave you in your grief

That’s killing you alive each painful day?

How can I tell you that I am here

Free to choose a hell or heaven

Home is where I first saw love

It’s in your arms I first felt safe

The daughter who brought you smiles

Turned to a scar in your heart

They took my life, my home, my joy

The monsters born of another woman

What bled me the most wasn’t the rape

But the shame and pain that my parents bore

Rapist is a name they call

The person who commits the crime

What can I call them, the others,

Who blindly live when my home is hell?

I am just a name for them to discuss

Never will justice dry my tears

I fought for life to save the rest

Who else can save them, if not a woman?

They left me to the mercy of justice

They think I’m a hero, but I’m not

They killed me, I didn’t die for a cause

I tried to live for a cause, I couldn’t

They sleep when my Dad keeps awake

They laugh when my Mom wipes her tears

Now I see the truth so clear

I can hear each word they utter

Nothing is changed, nothing will change

No justice can undo the injustice done

Women still live as makers of men

Care takers, cooks and tools for them

If they could kill me and yet feel fine

No human justice can ever be done

A day should come when women know

That they aren’t made by a lesser God

Empowerment is realising power

Within one self and fighting one’s fight

I didn’t win, but my Mom is fighting

Her own battle, with grit and faith

Ma,I lost the life that you gave me in your womb

And now I live in your heart as a sad memory.

I salute you Mom, for not letting go

The right to fight for your little girl

Mom, I call you Nirbhaya

As you change your silent tears into a voice heard

You stood there, you never gave up, you fought for justice

I wish you ‘Proud women’s day', you are my Hero, my mother

A letter to 2014-15 batch Clunytes, STD XII

It has almost become a tradition to read a letter at the end of each year to my students. But somehow this year, my letter is written to the whole batch of STD XII 2014-15.

My most beloved little girls,

Words don’t come easy this time. May be the reason is, there are thoughts beyond words. But I am sure that you will understand my heart as all of us share the same feeling now.

For a short or a long while, all of you became Clunytes by God’s Grace. And now it is time to leave your favourite play ground called Cluny. For different reasons, all of you may not be feeling the same way as you leave. As you move out of this institution that practices its motto ‘Love and Serve’, it is my sincere wish that each one of you should have a heart filled with love and a will to serve this world.

Let us assume that after years of sailing, you have finally reached the sea shore along with the crew called teachers. You have different experiences, but now nothing matters as the journey is getting over. You are standing on the same sand with lots of pretty shells around. What will you pick up from the shore before you leave? Won’t you pick up the best ones that you love, and cherish them as your fond memories? Won’t you smile at the crew members and thank them just once? Anyway remember that those who are fortunate to have sailed in Cluny even for a short while are sure to have seen and felt love.

Even as you sit among your parents and teachers the fact remains: no one knows who a teacher or parent really is; or what a School or Home really means. I feel that it is because of our constant comparison and a perception of an ideal teacher, ideal parent, ideal school, ideal home etc.

The word ideal in the adjective form has these meanings: existing only in the imagination; desirable or perfect but not likely to become a reality. And its synonyms are: unattainable, unachievable, impracticable, unworkable, unfeasible;

unreal, fictitious, hypothetical, theoretical, ivory towered, imaginary, idealized,  utopian, quixotic, visionary, fanciful, etc. And what I think is that the most ideal thing to do always is, just to believe in God, and take everything in our life as God’s gifts of love, and above all as God’s will for us. The luckiest person on Earth is not the one who gets the best life, but it is the one who makes the best of his/her life on Earth.

Your parents and teachers are the ones who have the major share in your growing up years. And as we look at you today with love and joy in our hearts, all of us feel proud of each one of you. You have grown up to beautiful ladies, bold and confident to meet life at its stride. Please do not compare yourself with anyone or try to become like anyone else. Regardless of your marks and stature, please believe that you are born as a unique individual to fulfil a unique purpose. Don’t give up hope. One day, some day, you will find out that purpose. I am confident about this as I waited in hope for so many years before I saw that miracle happen in my life. Sooner or later each one of you will bloom and spread fragrance all around. Sooner or later you will bear fruit. But till then, be good, do good and feel good.

None of us gave you wings or even added a feather to them. But you drew strength from us in the form of love, care, discipline, correction, etc..the list is too long. Yes, everything that you received was needed for your growth. The sweet milk and the bitter medicine, both were equally important in your life and so we gave them many times without your consent. At the end, everything comes to the same point, the Eternal fact that we love you so much.

As you flutter your wings to fly to the heights, your parents may feel anxious; not because they want you to be caged birds, just because they fear if you would be safe and happy wherever you fly.

The scripture says: honour your parents so that everything will go well with you on Earth. Fly children, find out your heights, enjoy the sights..but please keep on strengthening your wings till they are strong enough to fly back home and see your loved ones. If your wings aren’t helping you to land where you took off, its strength is of no use. Fly back and forth towards all your responsibilities. Reach out to your loved ones when you need them and also when you are needed in their life.

I will close this letter with one last thought that I shared with my students in our last class. As a child I loved my Dad more than my Mom, as he never scolded or punished me. But today I wonder who among them would’ve loved me more? Perhaps Mom’s stern correction made me what I am today as much as my Dad’s acceptance. And now I choose to love them both equally as I will never know how to assess a parent’s love. The same goes in my teachers’ case too. As much as affection and acceptance, correction and discipline are good for children and the wise ones accept all of them. You be wise and be nice. Love you my girls..

With love, your teacher, Sindhu

7th January 1966 - 2015

7th January 2015 brings to my life yet another birthday. I think birthdays come faster than they used to come before.

The length of the journey was calculated last year..

48 years + 12 extra days of 12 leap years 57 months

13140 + 4392 = 17532 Days

17532 x 24 = 420768 hours

420768 x 60 = 25246080 minutes

25246080 x 60 =1514764800 seconds

Now, plus 1 year, 12 months, 365 days, etc....

I was born on a full moon day on 7^th January 1966 and since then the full moon appeared 607 times.

January 1966
Sun	Mon	Tue	Wed	Thu	Fri	Sat
						1
2	3	4	5	6	7	8
9	10	11	12	13	14	15
16	17	18	19	20	21	22
23	24	25	26	27	28	29
30	31

From last year till now, the journey was good. I am grateful to each moment of 2014. It taught me the way down to Earth, leaving the tough upward journey in life’s ladder. My priorities stopped changing according to my needs; rather it changes according to the situations where others need me.

I’m so happy to pass through each year as I believe that best is yet to be. Life is not the number of years we breathe. Life is something that even death cannot take away from us. Life never dies.

The more I live, the more I wonder and the less I speak! All I understand is that everything is beyond my comprehension and best is to be present in each moment, wondering about the marvel of Creation.

The more I live I come to know that everything is predestined and predesigned and the best is to live through life, touching each precious moments in gratitude.

I am sure that the best thing to happen need not be something that makes you laugh. May be, the best moment was when I stopped someone cry.

The best gift wasn’t something very expensive that I got, but probably the love that flowed through me when someone needed it.

And the more I live, the more I pray for Grace and Strength that comes from God.

I stopped preaching my religion, but started practicing it.

I stopped reacting to injustice, started to practice justice.

I stopped expecting from others, started to share with the needy.

I stopped worrying, started to practice faith.

I stopped crying, started to treat me with a smile.

All these changes wouldn’t have been possible without God and God sent people. Thanks to people who I have known since my birth, stayed in my life since years, came to my life in 2014, not to forget the people who left me along the journey. I thank you all, as your coming or going made me grow into what I am now.

Most of all, I learnt that each day is my chance to return love to the people who love us and a chance to make up for the hurt and pain that I’ve caused to others. The best thought that I had this year is, ‘Many people have helped us to strengthen our wings so that we can fly to new heights. But the same strength has to be used to reach back to them in gratitude, to take a detour and come back home and to our dear ones. If our feathers are designed with the magic of love, they will surely help us fly back home, where we started.’

The journey of another 365 days starts here. With a heart full of thanks I bow before my parents who taught me life as a journey from Heaven to Earth and then from Earth to Heaven...I learnt almost everything from them, also from my brother, my husband, my kids, my friends...

And all my learning comes to one single point called Love: a Love that lives for others, a love that makes sacrifices, a love that gives others life.

Thanks to all who were and are and will be in my life. If God wills, I will continue this journal on January 7, 2016!!

A Sunday in Heaven!!

Nature, the best teacher..

Today afternoon at Yercaud..We had to stop gardening when rain poured suddenly from nowhere. 

 But we laughed when we looked at the blue sky on the other side.

 Then, came the sun through the black cloud...

and finally sun brought light through the darkest of clouds!! 

There will be a bright side always, which can be missed by not turning towards it. And there is no darkness which light cannot shine through..

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!!!!