New year (RE) resolutions

2013 is just round the corner; just one and a half months away. Being a great one for procrastination, I am all geared up to change and turn over a new leaf. I am all geared up as usual to start on my long list of “brand new “New year resolutions. Iam thrilled that I always have a New Year to look forward to. It will usher in changes in my life, life style, and I launch into a day dream as to how my life‘s going to change for the better, catapulting me into instant famedom. Inspired by this, I make a beeline for the nearest Landmark outlet and browse around for a lovely classy well designed notepad to list out my New Year Resolutions. Well, I come back home duly charged but not without having splurged a bomb on buying best sellers, and self-help books. In the process, I have made a huge dent in my credit card limits but I am not disheartened. Am I not being proactive by deciding to list out all my dreams and resolutions? I make a mental list of all that I need to finish during the span of the year- 2013. Finishing the creative writing course with Writers Bureau tops the list. A niggling thought that I had ventured into it five years back rears its ugly head but I push the thought down firmly and clamp it down with oodles of optimism.2013 is The year, after all; I curl upon the sofa and surround myself with several of the newly bought books. I commence on a brand new self-help best seller, then decide to give myself and the book a break, wander into the kitchen with yet another book to read while finishing up cooking; remember, I am being “proactive”. Needless to say, I read a little, cook a lot and then make my way back to the sofa. All this while, my husband was looking on with a disapproving eye. I ignore him and open my brand new Land mark notepad and pen down my dreams and resolutions for the coming year. Completing my creative writing course, of course, tops the list; then comes redoing my home and getting organized. Keep fit, embark on a fitness regime, and be proactive. The list goes on until I have penned down more than twenty well-meant New Year resolutions. I feel on top of the world. While I curl up to watch TV, my husband takes a peek into the freshly penned down resolutions. I let him do so, feeling very proud of myself.” Oh wow! He’s going to be proud of his better half! What a proactive lady he has for a wife!”- I visualize all this mentally, while watching him out of the corner of my eye. To my utter dismay, he strolls out without commenting and I console myself thinking,’ Never mind, I ‘m going places”. A few minutes later, he walks in holding onto a pile of old diaries tucked under his arm.” Do you realize that you have been penning down the same old “resolutions” for several years now? Over the past five years, you have written them down diligently in the same order!” I am rudely brought down to face reality. I notice several note pads and diaries beautifully crafted and designed ones that were never used beyond the first few pages. He dumped them all into my lap. The incorrigible optimist that I am, I refused to be disillusioned. Smiling cheekily at him, I manage to mutter a thank you under my breath.” Thanks for digging out all my note pads and diaries. I have been wondering where they all were. Now I can use them to pen down my articles and assignments.” My husband looks daggers at me. So much for all my New Year resolutions; nevertheless, its fun penning them down and renewing our dreams. But the trick lies in sticking to them beyond the first month. I am sticking to them, past January end. Hopefully……..

mashmilo....

MY SHORT STORY
Here unfolds the intriguing tale of a cute princess but not an ordinary one. The cute little princess is a bunny princess from the kingdom of rabbits. She is none other than the cute and chubby little bunny Milano, born to King Harie and Queen Vanamali, of the famed Rabbits and Hares Kingdom.

Long, long ago, deep in the lush and verdant jungles of Idukki in Kerala, untouched and unnoticed by humans, there existed a tiny kingdom. Not a Kingdom of mere mortals, and not just an animal kingdom where the Lion reigns supreme… This is the kingdom of hares, bunnies and rabbits. King Harie and Queen Vanamali reigned supreme over this wonderful little kingdom and they named this the Moyal Land (bunny land).

King Harie and Queen Vanamali were blessed with a cute furry white bunny Princess, the Bunny Milano. She was bestowed with all the comforts in life but sadly enough, she did not relish having to live in a burrow palace, all on her own.

Bunny Milano loved the sun, the butterflies, and the gentle breeze that ruffled her fur. She loved to gaze at the gentle moon that smiled down upon her by night, as she peeped out from her burrow. Princess Milano loved to swing about and play in the sun but felt sad about having to return to her palace in the burrows by night. Milano did not like her palace in the burrows which was deep underground: it was dingy, dark and of course there were no pretty butterflies flying around merrily, no chirpy birds and no flowers to nod their heads at Bunny Princess.

Princess Bunny Milano got more and more depressed as days flew by. This worried King Harie and Queen Vanamali too. What was happening to their cute little princess? She refused to even touch the luscious carrots and crispy green succulent letters served to her over dinner.

Naturally Queen Vanamali was worried. She cuddled Milano Bunny and queried,
‘Why My little Princess baby, why don’t you eat those lovely carrots? “

“Mom, I need to be out there in the wide world, exploring and frisking about in the sun by day light and I want to sleep under trees, enjoying the cool night air and gaze up at the moon. I don’t want to live in burrows”- Milano looked mournfully up at Queen Vanamali.

Queen Vanamali bristled in anger. “No bunny Milano, we rabbits need to live in burrows to protect ourselves from evil animals on the prowl like the foxes, the lions that would invade our Moyal (bunny) land and pounce on us to make a good meal of us. Here, in our kingdom, at Bunny land, in your burrow palace, you have all the security, and luxury!” – exclaimed Queen Vanamali.

“I do not want to live in a dark burrow palace”- wailed Bunny Milano in abject misery. “ I want to play in the sun, with flowers, butterflies and explore more of the world out there”- and Milano burst into tears.

Queen Vanamali put her paws around Bunny Princess to comfort her and gently rocked her to sleep.

As days passed, Bunny Milano grew more and more restless. One fine day, while playing and frisking around a swift flowing river in the deep dark woods, Bunny Princess Milano lost her footing and fell into the swift river. The other bunnies hopped around crying out for help , while Bunny Milano struggled to regain footing but sadly enough, her wet fur got caught in a piece of drifting log and the river currents carried her down stream , with her clinging to the log , far away from Bunny land……

The adventures of the Bunny Princess Milano begin thus, with her unforeseen foray into the wide world. Away from Bunny Land, and in the land of the humans, Milano meets an erudite scholarly Rat- Masha the elie, and they become friends for ever. This series is called Mash Milo, relating to young minds the continual day to day adventures of Milano the Bunny Princess and Masha the elie, the scholarly Rat, and how eventually, Masha returns Bunny Milano safely back to Bunny land….






CHAPTER ONE.

It’s late at night and darkness shrouds the streets of Aspiran Garden in a thick black cloak. A sliver of moon light plays hide and seek through the tapestry of branches arching over the streets. A lone figure trudged down the street with a ruck sack on its back, muttering to herself and squinting through her glasses to catch a glimpse of a light from any one of the houses lining the street.

This is none other than Masha the Elie, the erudite librarian and scholar. She’s dressed formally in a suit and a scarf tied round her neck. Unfortunately for her, she had been the Chief Librarian of the Brit Rats Council Library: her voracious “hunger” for the written word had made her literally “devour “the books, gnawing through them and the Council Secretary had thrown her out of the Brit Rat Council Library. The Secretary himself was sad to see such an erudite scholarly librarian like Masha the Elie being thrown out of her job, but then, he had the folks of Ratsville to answer to. It wouldn’t do for books to be found half eaten or devoured by the librarian herself!

That’s how we find Masha the elie trudging down the streets of Aspiran Garden, looking for a place to rest her pretty head for the night. The Council Secretary had been kind enough to let her stay at the Library over the night but proud as Masha is, she had stomped out in a huff, stuffing all her belongings into a ruck sack. She had no clue as to where she could go, and what she could do.

“Ahem, no Masha, be positive. You have it in you to make things work”- she spoke out loud into the night. “There is a reason for everything happening and I will find a way”- Masha muttered under her breath, trying to perk herself up.

As Masha turned a corner, she saw a sliver of light emanating from a ramshackle building. It stood lonely lost and dark, in between two beautiful houses flanking it on either side. Masha stood staring up at the building, debating with herself as to what to do next.

“Oh! I guess I will ask these folks if I could stay here for the night”.- she spoke to herself. The gates to the run down ramshackle house were open and Masha sneaked in. The lights were on in the top floor of the building Mash expertly shinnied up a tree to take a peek in at the window.

Cuddled up in a ball on the old eiderdown and bed of the old run down ramshackle building was a cute bunny with snow white fur. Masha gazed down at the sweet little bunny, and on a stool near the bed side lamp, lay the most beautiful tiara ever. Recognition dawned in her and Masha realized that she was looking down at none other than the missing bunny Princess Milano from Bunny land.

“Princess Milano Bunny? Here? I remember reading about her missing from Bunny land a few days ago, and King Harie and Queen Vanamali suspect that their precious Princess Milano Bunny got drowned when she fell in to the deep river…. Whole of Bunny Land is mourning over the loss of their sweet Little Princess and now she is here in this ramshackle building?!!

Masha the Elie felt a surge of excitement sweep through her. She scooted in through the open window and looked around. The house was a mess. The sitting room was cluttered; the kitchen had pots and pans yet to be washed. Plates were stacked with food crumbs sticking to them.

Masha the Elie wrinkled up her nose in disgust, and scratched the top of her head. “Not a fit place for Bunny Princess to be living in. I wonder how she got here. Got to inform Bunny Land and their King and Queen that their bunny Princess is safe and fine”- Masha thought aloud.

She opened her rucksack, took out a skirt and top, quickly changed into them and set out to clear and clean up the house. It took Masha the elie the entire night to set things straight. She made herself a pot of tea and sipping it, dozed off while sitting near Milano Princess’s bed and never realized that the skies were already turning pale, heralding in a brand new day.

“I am hungy…..’ Milano the Princess sat up straight in bed and looked bale fully at Masha. Masha the Elie woke up with a jolt and stared back at the cute Bunny Princess. She couldn’t resist hugging the cute little Bunny Milano.

Milano pushed Masha the elie away and again stared at her balefully. “I am hungy….”

Masha the elie crept into the kitchen took out milk, bread, sugar, vanilla essence and eggs. In a jiffy, Masha had turned out a pile of tasty French toast and strawberry milkshake, set them out neatly on a tray and brought it up to Milano.

“Princess, here’s your breakfast’- Masha curtsied prettily as she set the tray in front of Princess Milano. Milano’s eyes widened in surprise and delight and within minutes had devoured the whole tray of its contents. Masha looked on indulgently and held out a napkin for bunny Milano to wipe her whiskers daintily.

“My mama never used to feed me eggs or toast but I love them’ smiled Milano

“Oh! Gosh!’ – Masha had forgotten that rabbits feed on carrots and juicy lettuces.

’Oh1 My Princess, I will scoot out and get you carrots and lettuces “.

“No! I hate them! I want to have tasty crisp toasts, pastas, jellies and ice cream’- cried Milano.

Milano and Masha stared at each other for a while. After a while, Milano the Princess scrambled out of bed and hugged Masha.

“Who are you? How come you are so tiny?”

“I am Masha the Elie and I am a librarian. How come you are here in the land of rats, in Ratsville my dear Princess? Far away n Bunny Land, His Majesty and the Queen are sad and morning over the loss of their pretty little bunny Princess. The whole of Bunny land is in mourning I read about it in the papers. How did you reach here?”

“Well. I was frisking around in the forest with my buddies and we went too near the river. I lost my footing and fell into it. My fur got snagged on a piece of log drifting by and I was carried away down stream by the swift currents, away from Bunny land. I was scared and lost consciousness. When I woke up, I found myself washed ashore. I got up and while looking around, a tiny girl pounced on me and wanted to take me home. Her mama wouldn’t allow me inside and so she brought me here to this run down dusty house. That little girl Tina lives just down the lane. This happens to be her granny’s home. Her granny died a while ago and they let the house turn dusty, run down and dirty. Tina used to sneak up some food from left overs of her meals each day.”

Masha felt sad on hearing this. She crept up to Bunny and hugged her –“Well, Bunny Princess, I will look after you from now on”.

“Are you taking me back to Bunny land?” Milano’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “I want to go round the whole world, want to play for hours in the parks, lick ice creams “- Milano looked at Masha anxiously.

“Well, if that’s what you want, Bunny Princess, but first let’s send a pigeon across to Bunny land with news of you being safe here. It wouldn’t be nice to let the King and Queen suffer in misery of your loss, Bunny. I will inform them that I , Masha the elie the erudite scholar, is taking good care of you and within some days, will return you to Bunny land.”- Masha smiled kindly at Milano the Princess.

“Don’t worry, we will go around and visit all the places you want to see and finally, after all our adventures, we will go back to Bunny land”

Princess Milano hugged Masha the elie tightly and thus was forged the great kinship between the duo. The Mash- Milo duo’s adventures follow… you fellas follow…..

SECRET TO REMAINING YOUNG AT HEART

It was on a train to Kerala that I met Jalaja and her friends. Her “friends” were not just a few in number but an amazing team of 30 ladies, in their mid forties and fifties. Jalaja bustled around checking out berths, tickets and ensuring that everyone was safe and fine. Something about the entire lot struck a chord of curiosity and intrigue, and that prompted me to ask one of them, as to where they were heading for.
Thenmozhi, one of the ladies smiled in reply and told me that they were all residing at KK Nagar in Chennai, and were united in conducting “Narayaneeyam parayanam at various temples within the state. On request, they travel out to other cities and towns to give recitals. What she said next had me floored.” Everyone seems to think, that once our children are grown up, and settled, we women are left with no interests, hobbies or passions of our own; and they decide to dump their kids on to us. We do love our grand children, but we too are not old or willing to be relegated to the back ground. Now it’s our turn to venture out on our own, and do what we like to do”.
Well said, indeed. I wanted to know more and I was guided to meet their team leader Ms Jalaja Gopalakrishnan. Incidentally, the entire bevy of ladies was on their way to Guruvayur for a Narayaneeyam recital.
Later, in Chennai, on speaking to Jalaja, she explained in brief as to how it had all started out. Born and brought up in Pathanapuram, in Kollam district of Kerala, Jalaja had been deeply interested in learning Sanskrit. This coupled with her mother’s devoted Bhagavathaparayanam had left deep imprints on her mind. Much later, in the year 2000, she decided to seriously take up reciting Lalitha sahasranamam, Vishnu sahasranamam and Narayaneeyam. People heard her reciting these with rare beauty and approached her for training in reciting these.
News about her skill in reciting these spread by word of mouth and she started training those who were similarly inclined in learning these divine texts. Thus, over the years, a team of ladies was formed and they take up recitation in various temples all over the city, and this has now expanded to other places within the state and now also, to other states.
All training is imparted free of charge and Jalaja is kept busy throughout the day, from ten to five PM, imparting training in these to interested women and kids. “ I train kids to recite Bhagavad Gita for competitions and most of my students have bagged the prize”- smiles Jalaja.
She is also the Vice President of the ladies wing of Krishna Samajam at Ramapuram.” We are based at Ayyapan Kovil in KK Nagar, Chennai. “- explains Jalaja.
Dedicated, committed and focused on reciting and imparting training in chanting the Divine texts, Jalaja and her friends have found new meaning to their lives. This keeps them glowing with an inner happiness and this is the secret of their eternal youth. They have found a magnificent means of countering the onset of aging.

VALENTINE’S DAY

There’s a pleasant chill in the air, and I heard a neighbor’s daughter making plans for Valentine’s Day… I couldn’t resist thinking of something that happened three years back on Valentine’s Day...
The V Day dawned bright and clear. There was an inexplicable thrill and chill in the air. Even though married for years, my daughter’s youthful passion and excitement for Valentine’s day celebrations had rubbed off on me too, and I found myself hoping that some random gift or greeting card would come my way; either from my husband or from a caring friend. Even a box of chocolates would do, I reflected hopefully…
The door bell chimed and there was a courier person at the door. Both my daughter and I made a beeline for the door. It was a beautifully wrapped gift , and inevitably for my daughter- a gift from her long time best buddy.
My husband was poring over the newspapers, completely oblivious to any V day celebrations. I sidled up to him and informed him that it was Valentine’s Day. All I could elicit out of him was a grunt in reply. Not to be discouraged, I asked him about a gift. He looked at me incredulously as though I had gone out of my mind, and went back to busying himself with the days’ news.
Well, the media and souvenir stores had done their bit to create an atmosphere of romance and thrill in the air. As I sat around racking my brains as to who might possibly send me a gift (a near vain hope, but no harm in hoping), my mobile beeped. It was an SMS from my long time buddy Jatin. We were great buddies and were fond of sending funny messages up and down.
The message was – Send me your address.
I texted back- Why?
Reply- Please send. I am coming over to your place.
Needless to say, I had my hopes high. At last, a good friend of mine had sensed my need to be cheered up and had decided to drop in with a bouquet of flowers, or a box of chocolates!!!
I immediately texted him my address and even ventured to ask him when he was turning up. He replied that he would let me know.
With each chime of the hour, I waited with bated breath for my friend to turn up. Finally, it was late evening and yet there was no sign of him. I texted him asking whether he would be coming and he replied that he was on his way.
The clock struck 7. I sat there in my living room feeling irritated for being kept waiting inexorably. My daughter shot me a pitying look but I assured her that my friend would definitely turn up with either a box of chocolates or a bouquet of flowers, in honor of our long standing SMS buddy ship.I thought I heard her snigger but decided to pointedly ignore her.
At last, the door bell rang and I hastened to open the door. Yes! My friend had come! I opened the door to find a beautiful lady, Jatin and his son waiting out there, their faces wreathed in happy grins. He introduced me to his beautiful wife and we struck a rapport immediately. He then handed me an ornately crafted invitation card inviting me with family to attend his daughter’s “Arangetram” the coming week. I promised to do so, gladly.
After exchanging pleasantries, they left and as soon as the door closed, my daughter collapsed into fits of laughter. “Mom, where are your boxes of chocolates and bouquets of flowers?”
Undeterred, I replied- Ahem, it is not the box of chocolates or bouquets of flowers that is important. His gesture of friendship counts most. He brought his family over to meet me and he thought it most important to invite me first for his daughter’s dance recital. What more do I want than that most beautiful gesture of friendship?’
Needless to say, I cherished that gesture of his more than any box of chocolates or gifts. Even to this day, we remain the greatest of friends. Yes, Valentine’s Day is not only for couples or lovers. It’s a day to honor true friendship as well.

TRUST YOUR DREAMS ENOUGH TO BRING THEM TO LIGHT

Most of us have dreams. And lots of us do pursue our dreams ardently. I too have a pet dream buried deep within me, but until recently, I paid very little heed to the nudging and prodding of my mind.
Right from childhood, I had fallen headlong in love with words. Being the youngest of the three siblings, and with quite an age difference among the three of us, I used to feel a lot alone. Until I learned to read, and a whole magical world of words opened up to me. Being a very imaginative person, my imagination soared as I kept reading and the stories took on a hue and color of their own. I vividly imagined being one among the Famous Five, or being Perry Mason arguing out a very difficult legal battle. As I continued to read, I imagined myself being one of the lead characters in the stories and novels.
As years passed, books were my constant companions. I continued to read voraciously. At School, my English teacher noticed my penchant for words and assigned me to take part in several inter school essay writing competitions. Even though I was assailed with self doubts, I won prizes galore at all of those essay competitions. On leaving school, my Principal called me to her office and advised me to take up journalism. God knows what got in to me but I decided to major in Commerce, a decision I regret to this day.
Years later, after a series of jobs teaching at schools, and working in the Insurance and Banking sector, I found myself feeling dissatisfied with life at large. I kept doodling articles and stories at home to tide over my unease. One fine day it struck me that I had all along turned my back on my greatest dream and passion- to be known as a writer. I penned down an article and sent it off to the New Indian Express. I was so sure of a rejection slip but wonder of wonders-it was published with my by-line! That was enough compensation for the years of dissatisfaction and nagging doubts that had continued to haunt me.
I kept contributing to leading dailies, magazines and online portals and all my articles continued to be accepted. I mustered up enough courage to apply to a magazine and I was appointed as Associate Editor. My joy knew no bounds. My dream was, and still is, to be an acclaimed and well appreciated writer. At least I had made a start.
One fine evening, two years back, while randomly browsing through Face book, I noticed a posting inviting contributors to the Chicken Soup series. I had no doubts this time about sending in a short story, but had not quite imagined that it would be accepted, let alone be published.
Six months elapsed and one fine evening, a package was delivered at my residence in Chennai. It was an attractively packaged cover and curious about its contents opened it gingerly to find two glossy books from Chicken Soup series!! And a cheque enclosed within. Chicken Soup series had sent me my own copies of the book where my story had been published. I turned the pages to read the story published in the Chicken Soup for the Soul Indian women series. My name and a brief write up about me as an author were included. To the complete amazement of my husband and daughter, I burst into tears. Tears of joy!
This had been my calling. If and a very big “IF” it is…. If only I had heeded the advice of my School Principal, and cashed in on my strength rather than meandering my way through life…..
“Better late than never. Good going. More power to your writing. Pursue your dream of making it big in the literary arena”-Maya Mohan, my English teacher, mentor and current Principal of my school had this to say when I informed her about this. She hugged me warmly and blessed me.
Her words continue to resonate in my mind. True to her words, true to my heart, my dream will be realized in Divine Order.

SOLITUDE

Yet another cold and clammy evening made interesting and lively by reading through letters written years back by family and friends...its sad that the art of leter writing has died down.

Technology has made life easier and faster but deprived us of life's tiny pleasures. Emails connect us to our dear and near, but they need to be cleared periodically from the inbox and they are lost to us forever. Not so with letters- they can be treasured, cherished and read countless number of times, allowing us the pleasure of being able to relive those precious moments in time.

Letters are like our favorite paperbacks- silent partners and soulmates, who are easily accessible at any time.The words leap out at you painting beautiful imageries of days past, people not -so-easily -forgotten, but tucked deep away in the recesses of our hearts, those wonderful folks who made their entry very briefly into our lives leaving indelible marks in our hearts....

One such letter from my nephew evoked memories of Onam at Ernakulam. Settled for more than a decade at Chennai, those long ago days spent with my sister , nephew and neice evoke fond memories. "Roopsangam has come to town, Kabi" my nephew had mentioned in the letter, detailing every tiny thing transpiring at Ernakulam those days. My mind flew back literally to those days when my sister , myself and our kids used to frequent Roopsangam at TDM Hall, Garden Vareily expos at Rama Varma Club, street side shopping, sticky cotton candies licked enjoyably, pop corn, pori and drinking glasses of frothy sugar cane juice to top it all...

I smile at the memory of all of us trudging back home after each day of Onam shopping , with our hands full of knick knacks, odds and ends, purses nearly empty but our hearts overflowing with merriment and joy.

As I sit here at Chennai on this cold winter's evening, these letters brought some much needed respite and cheer. If only we could travel back in time, and watch happy grins blossom on the faces of my daughter, neice and nephew, making inevitable plans for more" karakkam"(shopping) the next day.

Each letter in my collection evokes fond memories.. sometimes sad, sometimes hilarious. Its a kind of time travel we embark on with these letters. Several of those near and dear ones have passed on, leaving behind fond, yet misty eyed memories. My Dad, uncle(Jayan Mama)and many more have moved on ... But my Dad still continues to live and offer profound advise through several of his letters....

Memories continue to be cherished and treasured through these huge pile of letters... no technological advancements can erase them.

Nostalgia

Reading an article in an old magazine about swings, Onam celebration and the good old days of yore set me thinking about my childhood days in the town of Kovilpatti.
I too had a swing(oonjal) , a wooden one. It was just a plank of wood with holes driven into it through which ropes were attached.

Knowing my passion for going up and down on a swing, it was my Dad who had made this tiny plank oonjala for me to regale myself. Its funny how as we grow older, our minds return to those good old days... That tiny plank of wood used to give me untold pleasure and thrill for hours on end.

The swing was fastened to the garage beams and I used to wait for evenings after school to swing on it endlessly. Having had siblings who were years older than me, this swing used to be my respite from boredom and loneliness.

Its amazing how our minds can recall every tiny detail of our childhood. My best friends during those lonesome days used to be the " kuzhiyanas" that used to make tiny mounds out of the sand in my Dad's garage. It used to be such fun watching them make intricate and symmetrical pathways in the sand .
Was I lonely? Never. I had my thoughts to keep me company, my imagination that used to run wild' my swing and of course my " kuzhiyanas".

REACHING OUT

Being a people's person, what I love most is observing people, befriending them and giving them free rein to pour out their tales of woe or humour . I pride myself on being a patient listener and more than talking about myself, I prefer to listen.

The art of good conversation is rapidly dying out , particularly , the art of listening. It never ceases to amaze me, but it takes very little effort to get people to talk about themselves.
Often , during a random conversation, after I have got them rambling on about themselves, I try to get in a word about myself, just to test out my theory. Ninety percent of the time, I end up getting half hearted nods, and impatient looks. Indeed the art of patient listening is fast dying out. I immediately bring them back to their interests and lo and behold! they immediately perk up.

Of late , I had befriended a psychologist friend. Little did I know that they too have issues to sort out and they too would need someone patient enough to listen to them. After days of listening to her, I perked up enough courage to ask her about something that had kept niggling me all my life. Immediately on starting to confide, I noticed that she was inevitably nodding impatiently, and she hardly noticed that I had stopped talking! Thts how life is... life's healing happens deep within onelsef and not at the psychologist's clinic.
Delve deep into your mind, be still, take much needed breaks from technology, muster up enough will power to switch off your mobile ,and relax your mind. You will be surprised at the answers that your mind can produce....
Reach out, and for a change, listen to your buddies, but never try to confide your sorrows to others... you dont have a market for your troubles...
Smile and the world smiles with you. Cry and you cry alone...