Viji unplugged

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காற்றினிலே வரும் கீதமாய், எங்கள் அதனை பேர் உள்ளத்திலும் அழகாய், மிளிர்ந்து கொண்டிருக்கும் Smt. MS....

Somewhere during my school life, I fell in love with her voice. "ஸ்ரீ ரங்க பூர விஹாரா " and "பாவயாமி ரகுராமம்", later hundreds of her songs added to my playlist.

Keeping this post short.

Have you felt that hunger pang stir, when Tamilians who stay away from Tamil Nadu, experience a South Indian thali, a Keralite experiencing Sadhya in New York, a Gujarati experiencing Mohanthaal or a dokla in Tamil Nadu, a Kannadiga experiencing Bisibela huliannah in Chicago and a Telugu guy experiencing Gonkura at Adelaide. It is easy to relate to your palate and respond to it.

The sweetest of roses perfume, the fresh cologne on a man, the aroma of freshly prepared food, hits our senses and we are in seventh heaven.

But ears, we do not often experience with what it would like to listen. Rarely we treat it with music. Especially soul stirring ones, music that stir nostalgia in us, music that takes us to that other world where there are no disturbances.

Smt. M. S. Subbulakshmi popularly known as MS, is noted for her devotional voice. When you listen to her, you take the shape of a tambura and turn into those strings stirred by her voice. The experience is beyond explanation. You feel like a participant yourself, not just an audience. It is difficult to express, but that's how we will feel. The oneness with her. It feels as if you become her. Yeah! told you right? tough to explain.

This day 100 years ago, she was born and more than that after 100 years, we are talking about her and I am sure she will be remembered after another 10 centuries too...

At times her songs are like gentle breeze that embraces you, at times a refreshing shower, at times a turbulent storm, at times a melancholic stir that triggers tears in your eyes, a joy that has no bounds...

I see her as Meera
I see her as Krishna
I see her as Narayana
I see her as Annamaya
I see her as Sankara
I see her as Kumara
I see her as Thiyagaiyar
I see her as Syama
I see her as Dhikshitar
I see her as Surdas
I see her as Kabir

She remains....

I heard you quite clear, through the dark curtains,

Through the windows slamming,

Through the storm, thunder and whistling winds,

I heard you quite clear whispering my name...

I stepped down those stairs,

The wooden steps creaking your name,

I stepped on the rug,

Soft and firm like your hold...

Stepped out in the rain,

Hands stretched, drenched,

The fat rain drops, dropped unguarded,

Eyes closed, I rain danced...

Music surrounded the insides of me,

I danced slow, soul free,

Your whisper, I heard quite clear,

This time very near to my ear...

Will you leave, if I open my eyes?

Will you stay, if I promise not to sway?

Will you hold me, the way rain clings to me?

Will you kiss me, hard, deep, fierce and free?

Taking this walk with you tonight,
Inside the deep and dark tunnels of my mind.
I am sure you will be surprised,
Walking the distance and cover the miles.

Every step covers the space,
Adding more miles, on its wake
If you wonder that you are walking twice the length,
You have only covered quarter the distance.

The miles that got added, when I was with you,
The miles that got added, when I thought of you,
The miles that got added, when dreams happened,
The miles climbing the ladder, with your thoughts rampant...

A tiny corner inside my heart
Where your smile, anger, fear, stays intact,
A little home I guard fierce,
That no one can easily pierce.

I can recite every word,
I can recall every smile,
The anger you had shown at times,
Your kindness ruling my heart benign...

The walls of my heart, carry your name,
The veins criss cross holding it in place...
The roots grow from every climb,
Wild and passionate, the tales twined...

My friend Namita Sreekumar, clicked this photo at England... beauty indeed the lights play on the plants... scribbled few words on this photograph...

Partly shadow; partly real,
The daring bird, braving the stormy clouds,
Flapping its wings, flying yonder...
Seeking a glimpse of those golden rays,
The sun playing hide and seek,
The old cottages witnessing the scene...

I dreamed a dream of you coming true,
my heart brimming with the tuneless tune
Walked down the shackled bridge,
Rested on a nearby ridge...

I tread with a happy smile,
Dreamt about the days bright,
Far away on a spring evening,
We walked and talked out our feelings...

Sun donning his best garb,
Shone on the stream, not too sharp...
Passing clouds stopped by,
Drizzles ripped the shy sky...

Caught a tangy whiff of you,
The whole outdoors rushed with you...
Pine, Spruce, dew and mist,
The fragrant rain all mixed...

Heady! heady indeed,
I tried to control my heart's plee..
You entered my heart with out a sign,
Dancing those steps, waltzing my spine...

Lovely to see the slanted smile,
Eyes thronged to see your sight...
Hands longed to touch your mane,
Your bewitching laugh, made me insane...

I dreamed a dream of you coming true,
My heart brimming the tuneless tune,
Sudden thunder woke me rude,
All those pleasures wiped out crude...

This photo shot by my nephew, Vijay Soundararajan @ Seattle, Washington... Beautiful ice clad hills and one green little sprig that escaped the snow, begged me to write a poetry...

Love emanating from two little hearts,
Desire emanating from two great bodies,
Hatred influenced by a broken heart,
Death influenced by a rebelling soul...

Be it! the little green sprig,
Be it! the massive mountain chest,
Be it! the you; who observes the truth,
Whoa! nature shows us no proof...

White fluffy snow, when influenced by mountains,
Turns as hard as flint, though an ephimeral stint...
Hard flinty snow, when influenced by the Sun,
Turns in to a glaciers and drum the rock and dent...

This little sprig, refuse to bend,
With undaunted, fiery rebellion,
Neither losing its colour,
nor the space it stands,
Those little roots minute,
Ready to fend itself in those gusts...

Every joy has its reasons,
Every sadness has its reasons,
Exaggerated when held close,
Dismissed when heart forces.

I have a weakness for beautiful eyes... Whenever I get bored, I google and stare at eyes. Pairs, single, closed, open, eyes shedding tears dripping kohl or mascara, eyes smiling, eyes twinkling with mischief, eyes soft filled with love, eyes furious with anger inside... green, blue, grey, amber, black, brown, violet...

I looked at mine, nothing great to look at... Black and White eyes..

I started my career at a reputed Eye Hospital in Chennai. For one of our in-house journal called "Agam", I wrote a poetry on eye donation.. My campaign for eye donation..

It went like this:

Light and darkness
Colours and hues,
Rivers and mountains,
Birds and Trees...

Miracle indeed viewing colours,
Through a black and white frame...
Donate the light of your eyes after your life,
For those who do not have the sight..

DONATE YOUR EYES!!!

Kind of kiddish, when I read the poetry now... I can definitely write better but more than the words the truth of viewing colours through my black and white frame made me wonder, what if my pupil changes colour...

How fabulous it can be, if I can change my eye colour to match the dress I wear...

Black and White
Blue and White
Green and White
Grey and White
Violet and White

Back to reality, maybe I should buy coloured contact lenses and try it and appease my desire to have coloured eyes. Now all set to see myriad of colours, hues through my bi coloured eyes...

Heading to buy contact lenses in a day or two and surprise a few!

Uploaded with ImageShack.us

It all starts with, "Who am I?" A question we often think about and find it too heavy to handle and switch off to music, movie or shopping...

But, the question always remains, echoes as a non-existent walls surrounding us, hitting us whenever it can and we dodging and pursuing more pressing needs.

Whenever, we say spiritual, the images that comes to mind, a man sitting lotus feet and folding his hands or a seer, a yogi... but the images are always in orange, blue, turquoise green or shadows in silhouette... Google "spiritual" you will know what i mean... why that haze? Is it something beyond us?

But, I read few Q&A columns on spirituality. Most of the questions are about inner peace, feeling abandoned, mental depression, divine love, self hypnosis, hypnosis, connecting to the soul...

Strangely, all the answers are connected to God and answered by a spiritual Guru.... I would really be interested on Atheists take on these questions.

Few interesting Qs:

1. I often feel scattered and stressed. How can I be more at peace within myself?

2. When I turn on the news and see all the natural disasters and conflict around the world, I wonder how I can be better prepared spiritually and psychologically to handle whatever comes?

3. I have a family member who is falling back into drugs and alcohol. What can I do?

4. There seem to be so many problems in my life right now that it’s hard for me to keep my faith. What’s the best way to get through difficult times?

5. My family and I disagree about rock music. Personally the rock beat jangles my nerves and gives me a headache. Our teenage son and daughter tell me rock is "cool," and our ten-year-old son is beginning to follow their lead. My husband says, "So what's the problem?" Any counsel for a frazzled mom?

6. It seems like major change and turmoil is a constant these days. Sometimes I do okay with it, sometimes not. I seem to be able to handle only so much before I get confused, upset and angry. I end up alienating my friends and self-destructing on the job. Ideas?

7. Christmas is coming and I am having difficulty getting into the Christmas spirit. I have actually been feeling kind of depressed and lonely. Do you have any suggestions to help me lift my mood?

8. I am really trying to walk the path of the ruby ray (the path of divine love), but I get confused about how to be true to myself without being selfish. How can I know if I'm being selfish?

9 .I'm missing something in my life, and I know it's about not feeling close to God. I try to pray, but I don't see change. I feel stuck. Then I get angry with God for not helping me out. I end up feeling scared, lonely and guilty. What can I do?

10. I know it is not good to criticize, condemn or judge other people, but I get frustrated when someone is being inconsiderate or hurtful. In spite of my best intentions, out pops a critical comment. Then I get upset and criticize myself. It is as if criticism, condemnation and judgment have a life of their own. How do I stop it?

11. I would like to know what to do with people I love who are closed up and have built barriers around them?

12. What do you think about self-hypnosis?

13. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that feels like a past-life experience. How can I know if I am really remembering a past life or if it’s just a figment of my imagination?

14. How can I know what my spiritual mission is all about?

15. How can I get to know my soul?

Uh! When I read them, I knew then I am not the only person with problems, almost everyone has problems and everyone of us are fighting to find a way to crack the problems and a way out of this mire!

Would death arrive,
like a sand storm in the desert?
Would death arrive silent,
like a lizard aiming it's prey?

Is death inevitable,
like a sun rising every day?
Is death painful,
like a trusted friend's betray?

Is death a magic
where soul change places?
Is death a trick,
to buy our souls' new dresses?

At the doors of death,
What awaits us?
Tended gardens with fresh fruits
or starving snakes, targeting fat Rats...

Like a moon, which rises after the sun,
would death rake the ashes, clean of our past?
Like a mom, who tends to her baby,
would death, forgive the sins we commit?

Waiting at the gates of death,
a long queue, before me.
I stood on my toes, to get a glimpse,
of the dainty garden/rotting grave.

Is eternity another possiblity?
Is being born again inevitable?
Wish my grandpa or grandma take pity on me,
and give me a sneak preview, on what's in store for me.

Nothing is sinister about death,
Death fascinates me, as much as life do.
What is waiting at the other end?
Wishing the doors are transparent.

Sighing, I stood at the queue.
Imagining a deep fry pan, with water fully boiled,
Hundreds of people waiting at their tables,
to eat me half boiled :)

Thought our paths would cross
The day I saw you taking a walk.
I kept looking, to catch a glimpse of you
you walking at the farthest end.

What should I do?
To catch your attention.
Started to hum
loud enough for you to turn.

You kept walking
the pace didn't slacken
What should I do?
To catch your attention.

At the sight of a tiny mice.
I faked a scream of fright.
Did you stop at all;
To save this maid???

Gazing at your back,
Wishing for long strides
Tiny steps I took
which fit snugly in yours..

I can spend a life time,
Watching you walk.
Reading your foot prints
Deep and strong.

Yet wish to see your face
Are you real or am I awake?
Wish I could stop the wind;
And make your foot prints stay.

When you observe a person while sleeping, seeing a smile playing through, you wish to know what is really happening out there....

Whenever I see my husband smiling in his dream, I always want to jerk him awake and ask him what it is all about. But then control myself long enough and check the next morning, eager to know if he dreamt about me. His answer always used to be "I don't remember,which dream are you talking about now?" If only I know, why the hell I ask him. It's damn frustrating and helpless situation.

"Dreams ", the colorful kaleidoscope of life after sleep. Dreams do they come true? are they premonitions, precognition?

I have this love for fancy words which holds a mystic ring to it. Déjà vu is one such word. It is an impression of having seen or experienced something before, though it happens for the first time.

" We have all some experience of a feeling, that comes over us occasionally, of what we are saying and doing having been said and done before, in a remote time – of our having been surrounded, dim ages ago, by the same faces, objects, and circumstances – of our knowing perfectly what will be said next, as if we suddenly remember it!"

- Charles Dickens

Recently when I was having Chapati for dinner, I asked my mom for more Dal and I knew what exactly her answer is going to be. As I predicted, she said she just had little quantity saved for Anirudh and if I can have Bhaji instead.

My Déjà vu had never been on grand scale. Its always comes true only related to edible things and revolve round a pickle bottle or a jam jar.

But when it come to realities, I have the knack of foreseeing things. My friends literally have to gag me from saying things... of course I always foresee the worst that could happen to them.

I am sure this particular post might draw comments from people who were affected by this. Suresh often had trouble with me here, as he has to put up with me for more hours than anyone else. Once when we went out, I told him that Traffic sergeant is going to stop him for sure and he is going to end up paying fine. It happened and he stared hard at me and cursed. What did I do? He failed to wear helmet, hence he was fined and I hate when people do not respect traffic regulations. But, it's easy to blame me to cover up his mistake : (

What is the scientific explanation for Déjà vu?

"It's caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain. When events are occurring in the present, our brain processes the activity in a part of the brain called the amygdala. Dejavu occurs when present events are processed in a part of the brain typically used to recall past memories. The parahippocampal cortex, which is very closely connected to the hippocampus. Because the event is processed in the parahippocampal cortex, it has a past 'flavor' associated with it."

Ugh... Only Science can complicate things and make exciting words, fall flat like a soda with out effervescence to tickle our noses. After reading this definition on Déjà vu, I have lost interest in continuing this post.

Fate

Ah!!!! Fate and Dreams are two exciting topics that holds a mystery ring to it. Thought let me try to unravel or rather allow myself to be dragged in to this.

What is fate? The popular belief is that, fate is a superior power that has control over everyone.

Is it true? It depends totally on the way we would like to think about. Some people would opt to take things light and say that they do not have a say in their future as everything has been taken care of by a super natural power and that they believe in fate.

Is it a lazy man's approach? Some people find this whole thing is a lazy man's approach to life and these people take pleasure in fighting this invisible monster - the fate.

Somehow I feel that this second category of people think about fate more than the first one. He is exactly like an atheist who claims not to have belief in god but do more talking about god than that of a believer.

How opposed is fate to destiny? Fate is something that happens to us while Destiny is something we are chosen to go for. In both the cases of fate and destiny we do not have a say or control.

Just to conclude can we say that we are totally in control of our own acts and we are responsible for identifying and achieving our own destiny? Can we take it that fate determines a person's life according to his karma? Varied thoughts might arise here. I just started to get my thoughts rolling and let me see where it takes me. Towards fate or against it.

My musings on Fate:

Kismet is the title I had given to this poem, as I find the name Kismet equally mystical as that of its meaning.

Kismet

Crazy indeed to watch
Fate playing its way,
Keeping our hands bound
Wrenching our heart
To its heart content
Makes us yearn
Yet not able to reach
Fascinating as a snake
Looking silky and satiny
Yet the world's best poison hidden
I'm tempted to touch
Though not for the first time
Lord, help me to keep sane
To get rid of these illusions
Which rob me of my good sense.

Viji unplugged

Smt. M.S. Subbulakshmi - "Innum oru nootrandu irum"

Rain dance

Walls of my heart, carry your name...

Shadow and reality playing live

Walking down the shackled bridge...

The sprig that stays green in otherwise b&W canopy...

Viewing colours through a black and white frame

Spirituality - an echo of mind, heart or soul?

Does Death opens up new avenues?

Walk away

Déjà vu

Kismet - Fate

Fate

wisdom comes with experience

Viji Suresh

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