Accidental Tamizh Love

Tamizh and I became friends because my parents told me I had to . My mom was adamant about her children learning to read and write their mother tongue. My brother escaped this by being absolutely terrible at Tamizh,like failing level terrible. Me, I was not not so lucky, at least that’s what I thought back then. I always managed to scrape through and be average. But we had a very strained relationship,me and tamizh. First somehow the hindi and sanskrit kids assumed an air of self importance. What was up with that? And then the tamizh scores would always bring my total down. This friendship was not working

It drove me mad. No matter how hard I tried, my scores did not improve.I tried very hard, I would write down every answer , practice writing essays , pour over grammar , try to understand the difference between பெயர்ச்சொல் and வினைச்சொல். My dad had a standing joke about questions on grammar. “Mark all your grammar questions as ஈறு கெட்ட எதிர்மறை பெயரெச்சம்” he would say .“Because there will atleast be two that are those.So you are guaranteed 2 marks atleast”. It was funny when he said cause he was not writing the exams. It wasnt funny to me. So you can imagine my surprise when in my 10th public examinations , I was slapped with a 91% in Tamil. I thought it was a joke. For almost a month after that I was expecting a mail saying there was an error in my language marks and that I had managed a 74%. The mail never came.

My high school refused to let me choose Sanskrit as second language.There was nothing more I wanted than to take up sanskrit as second language cause first, initiation in to cool club which regardless to say was number one priority in high school and second more total score cause you know colleges and all. High school tamizh is the nail in your coffin if you were the type that was harboring ambitions of Bits, Pilani etc. ( Yes, you can laugh here). You can kiss a 90% in language goodbye if you take tamizh unless you are a direct bloodline of mahakavi bharathiyaar or kannadasan. My parents obviously did not help me here.

As I expected, my performance in Tamizh was not great in my board examinations mostly because it is incredibly hard to score above 85% in Tamil board. Atleast average students dont. I was incredbily proud of my 85% in Tamil in boards because that is equivalent to a 99% in sanskrit. I have made up this stat and I am not backing down. But this time I did not blame Tamizh. The two years of high school Tamizh made me fall in love with that language like never before.

I stopped studying Tamizh and started learning and appreciating it. The sangam poetry, verses from agananoonru, puranaanooru, kalithogai, kalingathuparani, silapathigaram, manimegalai stole my heart. The beauty of the language dawned on me in these two years. It was this time that my mom initiated me in to Bharathiyar big time. Apart from curriculum where we learned quite a bit of Bharathi (Paanchali Sabatham being one of my favorite), my mother wrote most of my tamil speeches that were part of our school assembly and she would always, always quote bharathiyaar.There was a bharathi poem for every topic. Bharathiyaar was a huge inspiration for my mom and she transferred that to me. So much that when I left for US, among many things she gave me was a book of “Bharathiyar Kavithaigal”.

When I look back, I am delighted that Tamizh did not let me go and gave me another chance to learn and appreciate her . It is because of those two years that I was able to read numerous tamizh literary works. It was my mother’s maniacal insistence on learning one’s mother tongue and the school’s stupid policy of rejecting my application to take sanskrit that I have to thank and I will thank them forever.

Today is Bharathiyaar’s birthday , and Bharathiyaar to me in many ways is synonymous to my love for the language. He made me appreciate that poetry doesnt have to be sophisticated or embellished with big complicated words. Its the simplicity of his verses that captured my interest. The poem below is one of my favorite and probably one of the best motivational quotes ever. This was also the poem my mom helped me with for one of my first ever high school essays, it has stayed with me ever since.

அக்கினி குஞ்சொன்று கண்டேன் — அதை
அங்கொரு காட்டிலொர் பொந்திடை வைத்தேன்!
வெந்து தணிந்தது காடு
தழல் வீரத்தில் குஞ்சென்றும் மூப்பென்றும் உண்டோ?

Happy Bharathiyar day you all! வாழ்க தமிழ் !

Note: The irony of this post in english has not escaped me. However it is easier to write in a language that all my friends can read under 5 minutes. Plus I still need spell check on my Tamizh
பெயர்ச்சொல்,வினைச்சொல் and ஈறு கெட்ட எதிர்மறை பெயரெச்சம் : Tamil Grammar terms

Thoughts on Kaaviyathalaivan

kaaviya-thalaivan-poster_139367944410

 

There is a scene where Kali(Siddarth) is chosen by his Guru to play Soora Bathman, the mythical demon Karthikeyan is born to destroy. His different portrayal of the demon king compared to the theatrical, loud and more common version of the demon by Gomathi(Prithviraj), won him the honor of playing lead in the play. Right after this, the movie cuts to an artist adding splashes of red to his painting of a demon to be used as a prop in the play. Gomathi’s jealousy is introduced to us very early in the movie in such subtle and then very not so subtle ways.

Gomathi is painfully direct in questioning those who favor Kali instead of him, so much that your heart goes out to him. When he questions Vadivu about her lack of love for him when all along he has only had her best interests in heart , you feel for him. “He has a point you know”, you want to tell Vadivu. Or when he asks his guru whether he would always be the Ekalaivan to him and fall short of Arjunan, you smile at his sly reference to his superiority in acting skills and his guru’s favoritism . Gomathi makes you feel sorry for him all the while making you hate him a little for acting on his jealousy . He makes you want to tell him, let it go, you are good and he is good too.

Kaaviyathalaivan has fantastic performances. Prithviraj dazzles as the jealous actor forever hoping to one up Siddarth who effortlessly wins everyone’s heart as the more natural actor. How this story of jealousy unfolds in the backgroup of a traveling theater when India is in the cusp of the freedom movement makes up the story. The art direction in the movie is stellar. It brings forth a dream world that is theater with the props and the actual staging of the plays.Very little needs to be said about the music , as much has been said and much more written. ARR is fantastic , his music was one of the reasons I wanted to watch this in the big screen and he did not disappoint . Vedhika was good too as the KB Sundarambal inspired Vadivu. You just wish she was given more scope and a more meatier role than just being the pretty , nightingale voiced girl in love with a boy .

There is something unexplainable and wrong in this movie. In spite of the great performances and a pretty strong storyline, you don’t walk away with the feeling that you just watched a great movie. Instead you immediately start thinking about what this movie did wrong and why it fell short. The answer to me was that this movie tried too hard. It was too ambitious. The jealous actor story definitely worked better in the world of theater than movies but the independence backdrop somehow seemed squeezed in to the movie . They neither evoke any sense of nationalism nor make you root more strongly for Kaali.

But then there are some wonderful scenes like the one where Kaali and Gomathi talk about the Rajapaat who reigns high and their ambitions in the world of theater.There was an MGR-Sivaji analogy there , atleast for me. The fundamental idealogical difference in their schools of thought. The Sivaji reference did not stop there. Going back to the Soora Bathman scene, when Kaali acts out his version of Sooran, with a demonic laugh that could run a chill up your spine, all I thought was this was how Sivaji would have done Sooran. (Please lets forget Veerabahu)

Kaaviyathalaivan – Watch it and if you left the theater feeling something was wrong , let me know what you think that is.

Hrithik bitten by a southern bug?

My group of super awesome friends and the very funny husband man wrote a set of articles for a personalized newspaper for our friend and I, as both of us celebrate birthdays around the same time. The below article is one from the said newspaper. To say it is rib tickling is an understatement. Thanks to everyone involved in doing this and making my birthday super special.Needless to say , this is a work of fiction and only meant to evoke laughter.

Famous mythology writer, Nivi Kumar, is ready with her next masterpiece “Palace in Flames”. Nivi, an avid blogger by hobby and technologist by profession, rose to fame with her blog featured in the book “The Eleven”. “Palace in Flames” is a thrilling script bringing a whole new perspective on Ramayan.

For this magnum opus it is rumoured that Nivi first approached Ulaganayagan, Kamal Haasan, to act in the lead role as King Rama. Kamal, who originally loved the script, backed out later citing personal reasons. Rumours are that his obsession to to act with two heroines even in the lead role as Rama caused a fallout between him and Nivi.Friends of chitti times applauded the writer’s choice to preserve authenticity over glamour, her trademark in capturing knowledgeable chennai crowd. Kamal currently honouring his #Haun contract with Pooja Kumar was unavailable for comments.

Rumours are that his obsession to to act with two heroines even in the lead role as Rama caused a fallout between him and Nivi.

As news about this row travelled far and wide (specifically to the northwest), Bollywood hunk, Hrithik Roshan, was intrigued and arranged a meeting with Nivi.“When I first saw her narrating the story, I fell head over heals for her and immediately went home and divorced my wife Susan. Ever since I have been waiting for someone to write rumors linking me and her.”, sighs Hrithik.

He supposedly convinced Nivi with his suave looks and rock chiseled body that she would be ideal for the part of heroine. “She is the best actress i have ever seen, I even referred her to Uday Baba for coaching classes” commented Hrithik. He has supposedly roped in Epics Specialist, Ashutosh Gowariker, to direct this movie. However, Ashutosh is still busy editing his previous film Jodha Akbar (which Hrithik is confident will be released before shahid afridi turns 17).

Rumored cast members for Palace in Flames include Vikram for Ravana (He has prior experience’amam) and Rakhi Sawant for sidekick demon. Rakhi claims this is a totally different role from what she has done before and Chitti Times had no counter for it since she hadn’t done any character role before.

He has supposedly roped in Epics Specialist, Ashutosh Gowariker, to direct this movie. However, Ashutosh is still busy editing his previous film Jodha Akbar (which Hrithik is confident will be released before shahid afridi turns 17).

Finally when behindthewoods caught up with “Ezuthu Arasi” Nivi she simply dismissed these rumors “What Rubbish, I wrote this story only for Superstar, and Thalaivar has finished this movie in jujubi* amount of time. The post processing and graphics work are now going on full swing and is being done by multimedia king from Tollywood, Sunil Seepuri”.However she declined to comment on rumors of a possible breakup with her “true lover” a distinguished Hindi “Madhyama pass” pundit as he was upset that he wasn’t offered the lead role

~ By GossipGirl & Srihari Sridharan for BehindTheWoods

*Jujubi ‐ Unit of time in Thalaivar land ~ 1ps in human land

Palace in Flames

“A Palace? Did I hear you right?”

“Yes, a palace. That is what I want”

The three eyed God looked at the beautiful black eyes of his consort. The sharp outlines of Kohl covered the eyes which at the moment had forgotten to blink. She knew what she wanted and he knew that she would’nt rest until she got it.

“What would you get in a palace that you wont get here, Shakti?”

“While this might be abode of Gods, I do wish to venture out once in a while and see the world. Run thorugh the meadows, feel the warmth of the sun, bathe in the pristine blue waters, get lost in the green forests. I want to experience all of that from time to time. I need a palace to stay so that I can enjoy the smaller pleasures that the mortals are bestowed with”.

Shiva looked at her with his third eye closed. She was beautiful when she was passionate.

“Oh and you shall have it. Did you have a place in mind?”

“Lankai*”

“There is no place more beautiful than that. It shall be arranged” said the Lord and summoned Vishvakarma , the chief architect of the Gods.

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Shakti could not have imagined a more beautiful palace. It was a huge. There were fountains everywhere. The walls moved as she wanted them to. She could summon windows if she felt like. The walls would change colors as she liked. The furniture covers were made of the softest silk. It would match the color of her attire if she wished. The huge enormous pillars were sculptured with her favorite art and figurines. She had a sprwaling bath and the quarters for her help alone could seat the entire island country. There were mirrors everywhere. The rooms would light up on her instructions. She fell in love with the palace’s fluid design. It was everything she wanted. It was magical.

“We need someone learned to do the poojas before I move in, my Lord”

“When you are in Lankai, can there be anyone else but my beloved Ravanan?” beamed Shiva. Ravanan was his favorite devotee. Apart from being learned on all the vedas, he was an exquisite artist. It was said that he had mastered all the 64 varities of art forms. Shakti was delighted.

“Wonderful! I cannot wait” She excalimed like a little girl wanting to play with her new toy.

—————————————————

The millions of devas and all the gods assembled prompty for the grand ceremony that Ravana was performing for Shakthi’s palace. The ten headed king of Lanka dutifully performed all the rites and rituals and made all the gods happy. Shiva was pleased and Shakthi, thrilled. So thrilled that she decided to follow Shiva’s footsteps and grant Ravanan a wish.

“Ask for anything Ravana. You were great today. My palace could not have had better festivities to please all the gods”

Ravanan looked up and bowed to the God and the Goddress. Strong lines of kohl protected a stronger set of eyes behind them. He bowed his head again and he spoke as the forehead decorated with white lines of ash broke in to wrinkles,and his lips parted on one side

“You are very kind, O! Goddess. All I want are your blessings now and forever”

“Ofcourse you have our blessings Ravana, but you can have something more. Comeon now. There must be something your heart desires at this point. Go on. Ask.”

The king replied without a moment’s hesitation.

‘This palace, Goddess shakthi. Thats what my heart desires now. This beautiful palace that is so unique and unparalled in its beauty.”

Shakthi felt a jolt. She saw where Ravana was heading and she did not like it. As she looked at the still bowing down Ravana, she wasnt sure if his reverence was sincere or just an act. She knew how Shiva adored him. So he must be nice, a genuine person, she thought. Maybe he was just being honest. After all , it was a gorgeous palace. It is only expected that people will fall in love with it. She realized kings were always used to the best of comfort and luxury and Ravana probably could not help himself when he saw something as lovely as this palace. He did not mean it, she told herself. He just likes it, yes , ofcourse, that is what it should be. As Shakthi cajoled herself, she let out a mild stifled laugh and asked

“It is a beautiful palace isnt it? Thats exactly what I wanted and I am ecstatic that I got it. Now going back to the boon, Ravana. Do you want to tell me what you want?”

Ravana moved back a little , raised his head , looked the goddess in the eye and said

“This maginificent palace,goddess Shakthi. That is what I want as the boon”.

Shakthi was speechless. She felt like the jolt that hit her previously was a slight tremor compared to the one that she felt now. She felt cheated. How could he do that? He was just exploiting her good nature. All her dreams of staying in the palace while enjoying the pleasures of the mortal world now seemed shattered. She had imagined herself in the palace for days now , She had planned her routine in the palace. She had a plan for every room and now it was just being taken away from her. She was hurt. At the betrayal more than anything.

She looked at Shiva for some support knowing fully well what he would say. Shiva frightened to look her in the eye, looked towards Ravanan and said

“You know what to do Shakthi” Shiva said, scared to look at his wife’s eyes. He knew her anger and he did not want to there at that moment. But then Ravanan had her in a fix. There was no way she could say no. He recalled how excited she was about the palace. All he could do was sigh.

———————————————————————-

“O! King of Lanka, You will regret this. Your downfall begins now”

Ravanan looked at the monkey with a mixture of awe and hatred. He was hoping for condescneding but something about him demanded respect. He looked as the commander of the monkey army of the kingdom of kishkinta escaped the control of his forces as they tried to light his tail on fire.

He jumped from one pillar to another until he reached the rear end of Ravana’s court. He turned around as he said

” I will burn it all down Ravana. You just dont take something that is someone else’s beloved”.

————————————————————————————

“You can have it. The palace is yours”

Ravanan looked up and smiled at goddess Shakthi. Her face was flushed with anger . She had decided against controlling her emotions. She wanted him to see her in her full wrath.

“Ravana, you wilfully, knowing fully well how much I loved this palace, took it away from me. And you used such a vile underhand tactic to do so. My heart burns with anger and rage. Then again Ravana, you havent yet realized that one always gets what he deserves. You do not deserve the palace and so you will never truly have it. “

Shiva turned to look at Shakthi and tell her something. But he stopped short. She had a point.

“Your palace Ravana will suffer the same fate as my heart today. Remember this day”. She turned and walked away.

—————————————————————————————

“O! King of Kings . The monkey warrior has destroyed Lanka. Every place has been burnt down to ashes. People are running helter skeltor, the entire capital city is in chaos. There is nothing to revive. It is as though the Gods have unleashed thier anger on us.” said Ravanan’s prime minister appraising him of the situation.

Ravanan looked up and remembered the other day .

He then looked towards Ashokavanam where Sita was.

“And she?”

“That is the only place that did not burn down my lord”

And he knew why.

————————————————————————————————–
Hindu Mythology will never cease to amaze me. One of many many thousands of stories buried in Ramayana.
Thanks to Sridharini for telling me this story.

Devil’s In The Shruthi

This story was originally published in TheBanyanTrees in their issue themed Music May 2011.

My parents always favored my sister more. There, I said it and I have no issues saying it. She was the more prettier one, she was better with studies, she was the obedient one, she was their perfect little daughter who would do everything they wanted of her. Ask them about world peace, they would not put it past her. And on top of it she sang, and she sang like a nightingale. Like every other dutiful tambrahm* household, our parents too sent us off to learn carnatic* music at the age of 5. When I showed more interest in playing with dolls or kids my age my mother was heartbroken.

“Why cant you be like your sister,” she would say. When I responded to that by trying to give my barbie a bath, she would take the doll away from me and ask me to follow my sister’s footsteps, who for some reason took to singing like oil to fire. After a few weeks in to music class, the teacher and I came to the same conclusion. I sucked and had no sense of shruthi* whatsoever. We had both made our peace. It was my parents who were beyond consolation.

“But how?” they kept asking me and the instructor. In an attempt to save the poor instructor from more torment, I immediately started in to the latest taatu varisai* that we had learnt. The abaswaram* finally got to my parents and they took pity on the instructor and the rest of the class. Taking me out of the class would be a great favor to bestow upon them. My parents did that much to the relief of everyone in the class. Alas for me, if I had any hopes of going back to what normal kids my age tend to do, play, I did not know my parents fully well. There can be no tambrahm* household without music and dance. When my parents realized I had no talent for music, they took me straight to a dance school. So all my weekends and a good portion of my weekdays were now spent in dance practice.

I don’t know if it was the intention to please my parents or to not feel absolutely lacking in the arts department, I somehow started faring better in dance than in music. Now my parents were relieved because they had been dreading another call from the dance teacher. But they were nowhere close to being as elated as they were for my sister. It was more of a saving grace. When we had relatives or guests over and they asked pointing to us,

“So, what do these kids do?”

“Med school!” or so, I would have loved to say. Really what sort of a question was that, kids aged 5-6 dont do anything, they wake up, eat, talk, play, sleep, eat, play more and sleep. That is all that is really required from them. But no, not us, the super babies that we were. My parents would very proudly showcase my sister first and ask her to sing a song.

Her songs became better and better with age. She sang geethams* with ease, varnams* with grace and kirthis* with aplomb. She was very good . So once she gave this magnificent performance, all eyes would turn to me and they would have this “How are you going to top that, you poor poor thing?” look in them. As luck would have it, I had really thick skin. However my parents, in order to not lose face and follow up a super talented daughter with an also ran, would talk proudly albeit a little fake about my dancing prowess.

Now see, I really was good at dancing. But there is a very practical problem when it comes to dancing in our Indian MIG households. We all had small living rooms made smaller by the scores of absolutely unwanted furniture. Now by the time I could do the namaskaram* in my dance I would have potentially hit the table fan in the corner, the coffee mug in the uncle’s hand and probably stomped on the aunty’s feet. So me displaying my dancing prowess did not often happen and our guests had to take my parents word that I was good. Most of them eyed me very suspiciously.

Anyways years quickly passed us by with each of us excelling in our chosen field of art, making our parents head’s bloat up in pride. I was really worried for them. They took the whole thing so seriously that it was actually scary looking at their furious enthusiasm during my sister’s mini concerts and at my dances in school. So the biggest day arrived, my sister was going to sing solo at the local temple. She had a whole hour to herself and was going to do a mini concert . She had it all prepared. Her music instructor had already drawn out all the songs. The varnam* to begin with, two small songs to follow that, a big kirthi* with kalpana swaram* and all. It was like a super big deal at my house.

The days leading up to it was chaotic to say the least. I am not sure if my parents would have even noticed if I had gone missing those few days.The eternal optimist that I am, I tried to look at the bright side of everything. I used this time to get my report card signed by my dad, escape house duties and play with friends as much as I could.

Now I am not a mean person by any stretch, you got to take my word for it. However all this attention bestowed on my sister ever since she was born was getting to me. Really. So I thought – why not play a silly little prank to sort of dampen the spirits a little bit. I mean, after all, some good fun never hurt anyone, right? Especially if its a lot of fun for you and not much for others. So I did the thing that every less talented little sister tired of seeing her elder sister get all the attention would do. I turned up the “shruthi” a notch on the shruthi box and tiptoed out of the room with no one noticing. With satisfaction painted all over my face, I walked out, with a sense of accomplishment.

What happened afterwards, I did not expect. I really thought that once she heard the shruthi, she would realize it was higher than her usual range and turn it down. But she did not. I blame the situation. She was probably nervous. It was her first time in the stage after all. The result was sort of a disaster. I mean, when your voice breaks at the higher Ri and Ga notes, you know you have lost the battle. I know very well, that being a battle I have lost many times. Luckily for her, my mom ran over and turned down the shruthi to her level and all was fine.

The rest of the concert was a huge hit. Everyone loved it and you could hear everyone say “She sang so well, except the first song. Wonder what happened, poor thing.” Unfortunately my sister, unlike me saw only the negative in these comments and refused to speak to me for days. I kept telling her that she should really focus on looking at the brighter side of things. She eyed me differently. Something told me, she knew.

Well, as months went by, I was preparing for the most important day of my life. No, not my exams, this was my first dance recital on stage. My parents had invited a bunch of people and I had to prove myself. All those uncles and aunties whose hands and feet I had stomped claiming to showcase my dance were going to be there to see my dance without any fear of physical pain. I had practiced my routine over and over and was fairly confident of doing a good job.

My sister was going to sing for my dance. Now when my parents told me this, I was shocked. I mean she was the last person I wanted to sing for me. The reasons were manifold and fairly complicated. But they were mostly because I did not want to share my thunder and I pretty much sabotaged her first music recital. So this would be the proverbial sweet revenge for her. I tried reasoning with my parents and then after realizing that they paid less attention to me than squashing the mosquito that was hovering around them, I gave up.

This was it. The moment of truth. It all came down to this. After years of being the underdog, this was my time to prove my detractors wrong. I was going to dance like a peacock and nothing could stop me. AFter all this and more pep talk from myself, I walked straight to my sister who was preparing for the songs herself and told her

“About you first concert…”

“I know”

“I know you know. You always do. Now listen, about today….”

“Dont Worry. We are not the same….”

A huge relief came over my face. She was after all my elder sister, how much love and affection I had for her. She was adorable. Wait, the muscles around her lips were changing shape, those eyes resembled mine more than hers. Before I could say anything she said.

“I could be worse. You will never know what will happen today.” She said.

And then she smiled.

What a diabolical smile that was.​

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TamBrahm : A popular short form for Tamil Brahmins. A sect of people in Tamil Nadu.
Carnatic Music : Classical south indian music
Shruthi : Pitch
Geethams/Varnams/Kirthis : Different types of songs in carnatic music. Each one generally reperesents a certain level. You move up from geethams to varnams to kirthi’s
Taathu Varisai: One of the many initial parts to cover before graduating to the higher levels.
Kalpana Swaram: Composing ones own swarams based on the raaga
Namaskaram: Traditional Indian way of saying hello by scooping the two hands together.

Yours,Mine and Ours

Walking along the beach has been my favorite past time turned routine for the last many years. Time went blazing past my young adolescent fantasies and replaced them with responsibilities and wisdom,or so I would like to think. However my walking along the beach ritual continued.

I spent a large part of the walk people-watching and trying to imagine their personalities,conjuring their life experiences,building their life stories in the few minutes that I see them and walk past them.Today, I was taking my kids out for a stroll. I wanted them to experience what I did during my walks, hoping it would enrich their creativity, that the televisions and video games were hell bent on destroying. The ice cream shops along the way caught their attention and we took a brief recess from walking to get some ice cream.

As I came out of the ice cream shop, I could not help but notice a string of beggars sitting along the sidewalk. There was perfect symmetry in the way they were sitting. It was very territorial too. They all had a mat strewn on which they sat and a small hollow cylinder which had once housed items from instant noodles to baby food to collect other people’s hard earned money.

I walked towards them trying to make up their stories in my short movie, when I found myself stuck in a writer’s block. I could not make up their characters in my mind. It was as though my elite mind refused to let a dirty beggar inside my script. My thoughts were interrupted as I heard my daughters fighting for each other’s ice creams. Kids! how they always fight for the things they don’t have. As I thought that, I was not sure if it was just the kids who did that.

We crossed the beggars and I saw the person ahead of me drop two pennies in one of the hollow cylinders. The clunking sound was too clear since they were so few and far in between. I was now conscious of the many pairs of eyes looking at me wondering if I was going to follow suit . I shied away from looking at their eyes. As I was about to cross them by and look for new characters to fill my creative canvas, I saw one of the beggars taking a coin from his booty and giving it to the one sitting next to him. He found that he had no need for two coins when his friend had none.

I looked at my little girls fighting over a piece of orange ice cream and could not help feeling small. All of us , wallet hugging folks walking across the beggars refusing to acknowledge their presence seemed tiny in contrast to the perfectly aligned line of beggars . I was not so sure if they deserved to be called that as my writer’s block faded away.

Choice

She stared in to the darkness. A darkness that had taken control of her. It began engulfing her , a little at first, and soon completely. She found herself going deeper and deeper in to the darkness. The anticipation and hope to get out of the blackness wore out in time. She had become accustomed to it. The darkness was now home, it was now her life.Just when she had accepted things for what they were, she found someone pulling her out. Pulling her out of misery. That is what they said, yes. They called it misery,they called it rock bottom, they abused her tiny little white pellet friends. They called them the reason for her spiral down. They took those away from her.

She was thrust out of the darkness in one sudden push. The brightness was almost too obscene to withstand.She stared in to the light. She stared in to it wondering why the light took so much time to take her in. To engulf her just like the darkness did. She then thought maybe, just maybe the light wanted her to choose to be taken in.