menonsmusings20

A witty guy- my bro- In math, he was a pro! His pluck I did adore. His laugh was a roar! To Joke he said right-ho! To misery he said NO! He loved us all more! He was never slow- To wipe tears of woe!   I take a memory tour. I stood near the door. He lay on the floor! I was not sure how to go. He was pale, I saw! Was tragedy in store? Later I came to know- He was no more! He died in a snore! To us it was a blow!   My mom sounded hollow. Gone was her sweet fellow- She cried into the pillow. Dad was all mellow. No more did he bellow. Pain came as sharp arrow! In agony they did wallow.   Tears and time go- As his cancer did grow! Many a remedy did he swallow! Nothing could slow- It gored all the more! In pain, he swore! Our heart it tore! Our spirit it stole!   He is no more! We feel so low- The pain is slow! At times tears flow! Or feel our minds soar! Memories are in store! On our face they glow! Am

Kuwait is green and beautiful! What an impossible dream! To a dreamer like me landed fresh and full of passion, it brought in a free flow of pheromones. It didn’t take me much time to discover the truth. Once I was called to a rich Kuwaiti Sheikh’s sprawling mansion and given the part time duty of tutoring his recalcitrant sons ever so elusive, lessons on English equally elusive. The recalcitrant duo was researching on wild mischief and had perfected the art of spitting in each other’s face, for one. They were in the process of compiling an international dictionary of swear and four-letter words. They would practice such words without inhibition on their close circle of friends, family and much to my chagrin even on their teachers! Why a teacher would wear a large panama hat indoors while teaching, may raise curiosity and eyebrows in some. The Arab siblings having parked on either side of me would often end up in a fight. After flinging back and forth a string of groovy words, they

Yesterday I got an invite to a programme in my daughter's school. It was addressed to Mr. & Mrs KP. We had registered our daughter's name in the school rolls as Gayathri. K. P to avoid them having to call all those unpronounceable parts of her long name and embarrass the little one. The teacher's sense of humour  must have prompted her to address the invitation thus. This reminds of the episode of the Vellodis. Back in the 60s when my Grandpa was still alive, Mr. Vellodi was posted to the Finance Department of the Central Government as a Secretary. Delhi was a modern metropolis even then, but the Vellodis were village folks and continued the usual way addressing each other. In those days a wife never addressed her husband by his name. Instead he used to be referred to as "Nokku" meaning look here! Many people used to visit the Vellodi couple. One among them was a man from Punjab and on such visits Mrs. Vellodi used to nudge her husband and say "Nokk

Death is the second absolute truth. Yet, when it comes no one is prepared. Physical death precedes brain death. Brain death preceded memory death Memory brings alive the dead Death becomes a reality when history dawns. The dead are blessed. Those left behind grieve. In death a villain becomes a hero The dead are seldom disrespected. In death "He' or "She" becomes "It". In death all materials become worthless In death we part. In death we become whole.

Sometimes people think they are great and can run the world. I feel they are like the garden lizard trying to bloat its muscles to challenge the car tires that are about to crush it! As humans we have enormous vanity which make us close our eyes to reality. Consequently we break our heart, scream our head off and push our chest out in false prestige. We have very limited ability compared to the nature. One small heave or sneeze can destroy millions, yet we say we are trying to save nature! HA HA!