GOING BACK IN TIME…..

It is late evening. Mom, Dad, my brother and I get into our Ambassador car. I look out through the window and to my delight, I see a star spangled sky..Not even an inch of the sky is left empty. It looks more like a Silver Star spangled carpet. Adorning it is the moon in all its glory, looming large. The moon is my friend. Somehow to my lonely 5 year old self, and to my vivid imagination, I always envisage a bunny rabbit snuggled well inside the moon. The bunny too is my buddy.

As my Dad drives, the moon seems to be following our car and I gaze at it in wide eyed wonder. As Dad drives out through the outskirts of the little town of Kovilpatti, towards an ancient hill temple nestled atop a nearby hillock, Kurumalai, I can hear Mom ranting on about my sister who is in a hostel at Nagercoil, pursuing her studies. Dad drives on silently. I watch my brother snoring away peacefully; it has been a long day for him at the school, what with NCC Camp, hockey practice and so on.

It is dark outside, except for the moon beams illumining our way. Dad drives on towards an unmanned railway station. This particular station holds a lot of mystery, intrigue and fear to my childlike mind. What if a train came hurtling by as we were about to cross the rails? I shuddered at the thought. Well, my dad is fearless and strong, he would guide us away from all danger, and my trusting mind assured me.

The breeze picks up speed as we drive up the brief yet steep hillock. I hug myself... brrr… it is very cold and chilly and the wind whips at us, as we tumble out of the car, my brother and I. Dad parks the car and we walk towards the ancient Shiva temple, that remains bathed in silvery moonlight. We come here every month on full moon day; the chief priest at this temple, the “siddhan” as mom calls him is treating her holistically to cure her of asthma which has been ravaging her thin frail body for ages. Thanks to him, to a large extent, the treatment has been successful and her asthma attacks have become few and far between. The siddhan combines faith healing, spirituality and naturopathy to treat several patients who come to him for remedy and solace.

Inside the temple precincts, I bow down to my favorite deity Lord Shiva. As the night deepens, the wind picks up velocity and blows hard, freezing and chilling me to my bones. A willowy, wisp of a kid that I am, I half expect to be blown down the hillock pretty soon. I imagine myself hurtling down the dark brooding hill, and an icy tendril of fear travels down my spine. My Mom gives me a nudge and I am broken out of my reverie.

Within the temple, on the right hand corner, there is a well with ice cold water and everyone is required to either bathe in this ice cold water or at the very least, wash the hands and feet with the water from the well .Dad draws up some water and beckons to me. I tenderly dip a finger into the bucket. OUCH! My brother pours some water over my legs and I howl and screech in protest.

My mom shushes me, and I look on in horror as a bevy of ladies walk briskly up to the well, draw up icy cold water and without batting an eyelid, and pour it over their heads!

The strident ringing of the temple bells has my attention diverted and I pray in obeisance and devotion. The whole temple is lined with camphor and they are all lit at the same time, and this exudes an aura of the whole temple being on fire. I feel awed and terrified at the same time, by the continued chiming of the huge temple bells and the lamps and camphor lines being all lit at the same time... I feel as if all my senses have been brought to a point of total awareness and my hair stands on end. The chilly wind continues its assault and I cow down behind Mom in fear and trepidation.

Some of the devotees sway in a rhythmic dance as the bells continues to chime and arathi is done. The fumes from the arathi assault my nostrils and I feel as if I would drown myself in the smoke and flames arising all around us. This is repeated at each sanctum sanctorum of the deities presiding in the temple, mainly in front of Lord Shiva’s and Goddess Parvathi’s. The noise ascends to a deafening crescendo as we approach the Goddess’s sanctorum. As I watch in wide eyed wonder, the full moon in all her glory comes in line with the abode of the Goddess and I can see Devi’s nose stud glittering in the dark.

Years later, I still remember and cherish the ethereal beauty and the tantric ambiance created by the Siddhan. Finally, it is time to go home. Mom takes consultation from the siddhan who gives her some dried herbs and twigs to partake daily, and also some prasadam   .Eyes heavy with sleep, we clamber back in to the car. I look out and I see the moon with its bunny inside smiling down cheerily at me, assuring me that it will follow me back home. I smile back and bid a silent good bye to the now silent hillock that is the abode of the Lord and His Divine Consort, and I am sure they would continue their cosmic dance in peace and solitude.

REVELATION- A SHORT STORY

Vanessa walked into the club house of her apartment .She was very new to the place, had just moved in, and this was her first residents meeting there. She looked around to see anyone she could befriend and her eyes alighted on a lady clad in a pink salwar. She smiled at her and the other lady smiled back hesitantly.

Being a naturally friendly person, Vanessa decided to sit next to the lady and try making friends with her.

“Hi, I am Vanessa; I am in B Block, 3 rd floor.”

“Hi, Iam Paddy, I too am in B block, but on the 4^th floor’.

They exchanged pleasantries, and they found out to their surprise that both their daughters had the same name. Paddy’s child was just in the 5^th while Vanessa’s was completing her Masters.

After introducing their husbands to each other, they promised to keep in touch and took leave after the meeting.

A week later, , Vanessa felt lonely waiting at home for her husband. Her daughter had been her best friend but now she was miles away at Pune and suddenly, while sitting at her desk at home, she felt very lonely and felt like reaching out to someone. Her new found buddy Paddy came to mind. They had exchanged numbers the other day and Vanessa decided to ping her.

Paddy answered on the second ring-“ah! Vanessa, I am a little busy right now, I will call you back in a while, let’s go veggie shopping’.

“Ok Paddy, let’s do that”- Vanessa smiled.

Slowly, as days rolled on, Vanessa and Paddy became good friends. Vanessa was a voracious reader, loved watching movies but Paddy just loved to talk, and talk she did, all the time, very loudly. It was mostly about her husband, her family and how she was very proud of the fact that her husband was a senior official in the UNO, and so on.

Even though Vanessa felt claustrophobic at times talking to Paddy, she kept her cool and was very tolerant about her.

Things came to a head one day when Paddy barged in on Vanessa.

“Van, you must come home, we have bought new furniture. And here’s some foreign shampoo for you. Iam sure you don’t get to have any foreign products to use since your hubby is in the media here”.

Even though Vanessa felt her temper rise, she managed to stave off sharp words in order not to offend her.

“Pads, I really don’t want these. My hubby has been travelling extensively on tours all over the world, and foreign goods do not hold any special allure for me”.

Paddy just smirked and walked off.

A week later, Paddy invited Vanessa out for lunch. While returning, Paddy asked-“How much does your hubby earn? I am sure he earns 2 lak per month. I just won’t allow my hubby to work in India. What do they pay here? Just a pittance. How can anyone live like this in India earning just 1 0r 2 laks? When we were married he was working for the CBI and it was me who pushed him off abroad.”

Vanessa was a patriotic soul and it hurt her sentiments to listen to Paddy. From then on, she devised excuses to avoid meeting Paddy. When Paddy asked her out, she politely declined.

One evening, Paddy dropped in at Vanessa‘s place. Over tea, Paddy opined,’ Vans, I have noticed that you are very careful in your spending.”

“Yes, I am, Paddy, I don’t believe in splurging and wasting money”.

“You know something, Vans, My brother also feels so. He is one happy soul who is content working for a pittance in India. He has a small flat that he owns, he is happy that his kid studies well, and he has a car. That‘s it. I asked him point blank, that once he retires, how is he gonna live? He might get his daughter married off with the money we throw at him but then what happens after that? I am happy that my hubby is working abroad and that I have enough and more to spend”.

Vanessa felt disgusted listening to this soliloquy. She felt that Paddy had stooped so low to be making such remarks about her own brother. Indeed, Vanessa knew Paddy’s brother was well settled in a good job right here in Chennai.

“Paddy, I don’t think you should be speaking about your brother that way. He has a good job, and he is well settled in life. Stop making derisive remarks about others.”

‘What derisive remark? Let me tell you, once he retires he won’t even have money to feed himself!”

Vanessa felt sick to her stomach, but thankfully, her hubby walked in and Paddy made her graceful exit.

Months passed by, and except for a cursory hello, Vanessa decided to stay clear of Paddy.

Once while discussing Paddy with her psychologist friend Ann, the latter was intrigued and wanted to meet Paddy. Since Ann was dropping in to have lunch at home the next day, Vanessa promised to take her to Paddy’s place.

The next day, before Ann dropped by, Vanessa rang Paddy on her mobile.

“Hi Pads, how are you? I have a friend who is dropping in for lunch... Why don’t you join us too?”

“Hmm.. no Vans, I don’t think I will.. I am busy’.

“Ok, if you are busy, can I bring her over to your place? After lunch?”

“Ok, do come’.

After a fruitful afternoon of chatting, laughing and having lunch, Ann and Vanessa decided to drop in at Paddy’s place.

Paddy welcomed them warmly. Once seated, Paddy asked Ann, “So, tell me about your hubby. What does he do?”

Ann was amused by her question and with a smile curling at her lips, replied,’ Paddy, ask me first about myself. I am a psychologist. My hubby is a film director.”

Paddy’s face flushed in excitement.” Wow! Vans, you never told me that your friend’s hubby is a film director! I would have definitely come to your place for lunch”.

Noticing how shallow Paddy could be, after the initial pleasantries, they took leave.

“Well, what do you think of her?’ – asked Vanessa.

“Isn’t it obvious? She is pretty shallow. I just hope that life doesn’t hand out a blow to teach her a lesson”.

Months later, Vanessa got a call from Siba, a neighbor and a common friend.

“Vanessa, did you know? Paddy’s hubby had a cerebral hemorrhage and is critically ill and in ICU”.

Vanessa was shocked. Paddy’s husband is a truly nice person with no airs or attitude, a down to earth, good human being.

 She frantically dialed Paddy’s number but it kept ringing. Early next morning, she rang again, and this time, it was Paddy’s brother on the line.

‘What happened to Paddy’s husband Jo? I just came to know yesterday.”

Her brother replied in somber tones-“Jo was returning to Chennai from Kerala when he had a stroke on the train. He has been hospitalized unconscious for over a week. Doctors have given him just 1 percent chance of survival. He has been placed on the ventilator.”

It was a sad day for everyone at the apartment, especially for Vanessa and her family. However shallow Paddy had been, her husband Jo had been great friends with both Vanessa and her husband Harry. They had shared moments of great camaraderie

Vanessa refused to believe that Jo would not survive and for the entire day and night, she spent in prayers. She spoke to her sister and all those who had known Paddy and Jo and asked them to fervently pray for Jo.

Vanessa got up very early  the next day and with great trepidation, called Paddy’s brother.

“He has been taken off the ventilator. It’s nothing short of a miracle, but the worst is over. Now we just have to wait patiently for him to recover and regain all his faculties”- Paddy’s brother informed Vanessa.

She felt weak with relief. Every day, she continued to pray for Paddy’s family and for the two young children of hers. Every week she diligently called Paddy’s brother and asked about Jo. He was indeed on the road to recovery.

Months after Jo was discharged from the hospital, Paddy dropped in at Vanessa’s place.

On seeing Paddy, Vanessa rushed to hug her and Paddy collapsed crying into her arms.

“Vans, I have learnt my lesson, a very hard lesson; remember how I used to look down on others? On my brother? Now he is my sole pillar of strength. Jo can’t work for at least two years, and after that, God knows... But I am happy; it’s my brother and mom who are supporting me. I have realized that life is not about earning in laks, it’s the quality of life that we should uphold.

I knew you used to disapprove of me at times, when I used to say all that, but I used to think I was above all of you. I’m partly to blame for Jo’s illness. Despite knowing that he had high BP, I neglected his health and was focused only on him working and earning a fat pay packet abroad. Now I just want him to recover and be normal again. I don’t even care what happens to my kids; whether they learn and get good jobs or anything.” – Paddy kept sobbing

Vanessa‘s heart went out to Paddy and hugging her, made her a cup of hot tea. Then she made Paddy sit down beside her and said-‘Pads, stop blaming yourself. Just be grateful that Jo is on his road to recovery. He will be fine in no time. As a mom, as a wife, you need to be strong. For your Jo. You need to motivate your kids, be there for them and see to it that they excel in studies and in life. Years later, when Jo is fine again, he will be proud of you for having been supportive and caring and inspiring in these trying times.”

Pads was silent for a while, then with tears in her eyes she hugged Vanessa and said’ Yes, Vans, I promise, I promise to do just that. Thanks for being there for me.”

Vanessa hugged her in return and said, ‘I am always there for you dear”.

by

Valsala Menon

RENEWED HOPE- A SHORT STORY

Valsala Menon

Vibha stood by the window fiddling on her sari. She was in a daze, thinking back to her luncheon with her old school mate Jyothi.

Vibha had found her long lost best friend from school Jyothi on Face book, and immediately they had connected, exchanged numbers and promised to meet. Surprisingly enough, Jyothi was in the same city as she was, and they  had arranged to meet up the very next day for lunch.

Vibha had dressed in a simple yet graceful kurti and jeans and had arrived early to meet Jyothi at her favorite eat out in the city.

“Wow! Vibha, you seem to grow gorgeous with age! “– smiled Jyothi as she hugged Vibha. Jyothi had trooped in unobserved and had given her a shock by exclaiming thus.

Vibha smiled back placidly; Jyothi looked the same, but over the years, her graceful slender figure had rounded out and she looked every bit a motherly matron, even though she still displayed a grace and elegance in her style. After exchanging pleasantries, both of them launched into animated conversation, catching up with all the news over the years. Jyothi had given up teaching to be a full time wife and mom, and while Vibha had held down several jobs, she was yet to catch up on her dream….

As Vibha gently tasted her dessert, she caught Jyothi looking wistfully at her.” Vibha, do you realize how pretty you are? More pretty than you were back at college; your eyes still have the same sparkle and your face radiates the same innocence.”

Much to Jyothi’s horror, Vibha‘s lovely eyes welled up in tears.

“What happened, Vibha? Did I say something wrong? “

“No Jyothi, let’s go, I need to get back home.”

They paid their bill and walked back home in silence. “I will call you in a while, Jyothi, please, I am upset. You know I have never been pretty; you are just being kind to me. Please don’t be. I know what I am. “

Jyothi looked at her in surprise.” Vibha, don’t tell me that even after all these years, you haven’t gotten over what your mom said long back!”

Vibha couldn’t speak, she knew that if she continued to linger, she would break down in loud sobs. She just hailed down a nearby cab and got into it and hurried away, leaving Jyothi standing at the kerb.

Vibha got back home and cried her heart out.

It was all because of her mother. Her thoughts went back to the day when she was  13 years old. She had just got back from school and noticed that her mom was busy folding a brand new silk sari.

“Wow! Whose is that? Amma, is it yours? New sari?”- Vibha asked in wide eyed innocence.

“No, not mine; Shubha is getting married, right? Lakshmi Aunty brought it for her.” Vibha‘s sister Shubha was engaged to be married. There was an 11 year gap between the sisters, and while Vibha was a thin and gawky teenager, Shubha was in the prime of her youth and considered the ‘beauty’ of the family. Lakshmi, her mom’s aunt had just gifted Shubha with a lovely Kanchipuram sari.

“Oh! Why dint Lakshmi aunty bring me something too? She always does.”- pouted Vibha.

“Why on earth should Lakshmi aunty get you anything at all? Do you deserve anything? Look at you! Scrawny rat! Compared to Shubha, you are nothing! She is so pretty, while you look like a scrawny spider!”

Vibha stood rooted to the spot, shocked beyond measure. She gazed at herself in the mirror, and found her mom to be true. Yes, she was all angles, while her lovely sister was curvaceous and graceful. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she wept her heart out.

It was only to her best friend Jyothi did she confide about her mom, and her very unkind remark.

Years later, Vibha had grown into a slender graceful woman, with lovely dark eyes and a beatific smile, but her mother’s words continued to mar and blind her vision to the truth. She continued through college without ever allowing herself to fall in love. She had internalized her mother’s opinion and continued to live through it.

Vibha got married eventually to a journalist, and she too was a gifted writer. It was her pet dream to be a recognized writer of renown and pen down her own novels but something kept holding her back from accomplishing her dream.

Jyothi did not contact her over the weekend. On Monday morning, Vibha had a call from Jyothi.

“Vibha, I am coming over. We need to talk”.

At 11, her doorbell rang and Vibha smilingly opened the door to her best friend.

“Get dressed. We are going out”- Jyothi

“Where to?”-queried Vibha in surprise.

“Hmm, to exorcise some of your ghosts. Come on, hurry up… I am gonna take you to a friend of mine.”

Jyothi gave no time for Vibha to protest. She bundled her into her car and drove down to Jyothi’s friend Anita’s place.

“Anita is a clinical psychologist, Vibha, and a close friend of mine. I have spoken to her about you, and how you need to get over your mother’s comments long back. It’s hampering you, Vibha.”- Jyoti

Vibha felt suddenly light and relieved at the same time. She had needed help but now she was happy that her best friend had initiated the process.

 Anita looked just like anybody’s friendly neighbor, and after serving cups of hot tea, Anita invited Vibha to her room.

“Vibha, you seem to  be a very nice person. Jyothi told me that it’s your greatest dream to be a writer. I know too that you have enrolled for a creative writing course with a foreign university. Tell me, I am your friend. Shall we talk? Just think of me as a friend and keep talking.”

Anita gazed at Vibha with so much compassion and understanding, that Vibha could hardly prevent her tears from flowing unhindered. All her pent up feelings and frustration and the layers of hurt that had accumulated deep within her as a child welled up  in tears and amidst crying, she managed to talk and let the past flow out of her .

After an hour, Anita smiled down at her kindly.

“Vibha, you need to bury the past. For your own good, forgive your mom and let go. I know that it was a very unkind and thoughtless remark that your mom made, , but internalizing it has prevented you from growing as a person, as a writer. I know you write well, I have read several of your blog posts on FB. Jyothi sent me the link. What you need to do, is to get to work on your self esteem. Believe that you do not need any body’s approval. All the approval you need is from yourself.

Remember, you are not the thin gawky teenager you were so many years ago. Now you are a matured and graceful young woman, with a family of your own. Next time someone compliments you, accept it. Just say, Thank you.

Now I want you to write your mom’s hurtful comments on a piece of paper and before you leave this place, burn that piece of paper.  Let go. Forgive your Mom as the paper burns

Go home, and work on your writing. Believe in your heart that you are born to be a great novelist. Good luck”- Anita hugged her while seeing Vibha off

Vibha made up her mind to do as she was instructed and for the first time in years, she felt light. Jyothi drove her back to her apartment, and while getting out, Vibha hugged Jyothi and whispered a tearful ‘thank you”.

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady, go work on your dreams. Let me see your short story in print”- grinned Jyothi.

Vibha smiled back happily and Jyothi drove back home feeling relieved that Vibha was on the right track after all. She was letting go of those hurtful comments.

Two months later, Jyothi received a call. It was from Vibha.

“Jyothi, can you believe this? I am getting my first book of short stories published, by Random House.!And one of my short stories has been selected for the Chicken Soup series.” Vibha’s voice displayed her emotions.

“Wow! Great news Vibha! I am so happy for you. Let’s celebrate. I am coming right over”

Vibha was waiting with her husband at the gates of the apartment, as Jyothi drove down. She got down and hugged Vibha.

“I have dedicated my book to you, Jyothi. If not for you, I wouldn’t have penned all this down “- happy tears glistened in Vibha’s eyes, and it was all Jyothi could do to hug her tightly.

Vibha was now truly flying high on the wings of self confidence and renewed hope.

REEL LIFE WOMAN VS REAL LIFE WOMAN

Pritha waltzed in gaily from work. She was one of the lucky ones who had a doting mom in law waiting for her at home, with a hot cup of coffee and tasty snacks ready for her to tuck into. After freshening up, she curled up on the sofa beside her Mom in law and in cheery camaraderie set about surfing the channels.

‘There was this unwitting hardworking daughter in law being surrounded on all sides by her in laws and they take immense pleasure in subjecting her to hard chores. On top of that, pregnant as she was , she was being made to subject to an un wanted abortion. When she declined to do so, the mom in law plotted with her sons to subject the unsuspecting daughter in law to an over dose of electrical shock, while ironing clothes, wherein she would naturally lose the baby.’

This was what the horrified duo Pritha and her mom in law watched in disgust and outrage. In sheer disgust, Pritha switched off the TV, and they decided never ever to condone such soap operas.

This is the typical scenario that unfolds in most households’ .It actually calls for some very serious thought as to why producers of TV serials portray women as the persecuted daughter in law, and the mother in law as the conniving punishing witch. Isn’t it high time we bid goodbye to these stale images of women?

Are these reel women, the real women of the 21^st century? The real woman is eons away from what is being portrayed on both the silver screen as well as the small screen.

TV serials can be an accomplice to gender based discrimination by resorting to portraying stereotypical, sensational images of women through these programs. In a world that is still largely dominated by men, what gets produced most often by way of soap operas are the age old, tried and tested, traditional , male perspective being doled out to the masses. While, once, as women we were motivated and inspired by strong women characters like Rajni and Kalyani of Udaan in the late 1980’s, now we are saddled with an endless collection of popularly watched serials on varied channels- ‘Kyonki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi, pavithra rishta, baliga vadhu, ; travel down South and you have the Sindhu- Bhairavi and more from Tamil channels and the soap opera ‘ Sthree dhanam’ ( Dowry) in Malayalam.

Most of these project the home scenario or the domestic sphere as the core setting and the fundamental theme revolves around familial relationships. A woman’s achievement in life is valued in terms of their success and responsibility undertaken in running a successful household, settling down in marital bliss, giving birth to children and her constant endeavor to raise them as ideal human beings. Most themes center on a strong sense of good and bad and are tainted in white and black with no grey shades in between. All these roles typify a patriarchal mindset where the docile wife is favored while women in power or career women are portrayed as vile, selfish, self centered or arrogant.

The working woman is sometimes portrayed as ultra modern, sporting a plunging neckline, with short hair, and who is bold, heartless, conniving and perfect in the art of seduction. Modernity in these serials is confused with debasement of morals and ideals. We are still stuck with projecting our women as the age old ‘pativrata’; and motherhood in serials is over glorified, placing serious emotional pressure on women watching these shows. Do stop to think whether we need to transfer these values, characterizations, and standards that are being projected for the younger generation to emulate.

All women in most soap operas are heavily made up, don expensive jewelry and sometimes, the viewers feel as though one serial just merges into the next!

Yet another genre of soap operas portrays women as the unrealistic superwoman, the super wife, super daughter in law or the super mom. She is required to display loyalty, compassion, devotion and her domain is her home. Her greatness lies in her being a doormat, being self evasive to the extreme and is the panacea for all ills that plague her family. Some even go to jail for crimes they never committed. In the end, they always win but not before going through hell, tears and physical violence. Not only do they go through hell, they also drag their viewers along with them, the unsuspecting hapless victims who happen to be endlessly addicted to these serials. Thus, the producers of these soap operas can hardly be blamed for attempting to produce these alleged money spinners.

Our serials show a rising trend in extra marital relationships as well. Does it condone the dilution of our moral standards? Are we blindly aping the west without giving serious thought to its impact on the present generation?

Are these reel women the role models that we want our youngsters to emulate? Do we want to see our girls as idealistic pativratas? Or do we teach them the values of mutual trust, companionship, love and devotion in a relationship? Is there an arming link between the present state of mental confusion, distorted perceptions, imbalanced view points, rising number of pre and extra marital relationships among the youth with the portrayal of relationships on TV? Are our young girls and boys torn between past and present values, face societal pressures to fit into age old role models while striving to pursue ambitions and aspirations of their own?

Aren’t these soap operas the reason behind the identity crisis being faced by the generation of today, resulting in rising rates of crime against women, increase in suicide rates, and incidents of drug abuse? All these calls for some serious thought on the entire issue of projecting women  thus on TV and in the media in general.

Is any one listening?

WEAVING COCOONS OF BONHOMIE

Sometimes, I wonder how some people manage to keep their balance, no matter what life throws at them. Indeed, living had become a hectic rigmarole for me, with no sign of respite in between the mad rat race. Every single day, I I assured myself that I would finish all my tasks and projects for the day or week, and then indulge in some much needed “me” time, create space for myself for some much needed self care and self nurturing to happen. Days whizzed past and I was hardly close to indulging myself in any self care. I loved to read, listen to music, dance but my work and home took up all my time and even weekends jut whizzed past, leaving me drained physically and emotionally .I realized that I was desperately seeking balance in life. And of course, the secret to life balance is taking a break.
 Well, taking a break doesn’t always have to mean going away on vacation. Sometimes, the best way to take a break can be to refocus our efforts on something new, something that you have always been drawn to. I mentally surrendered myself to the Divine and decided to let Him show me the way to regaining balance and focus in life. It was a Friday and I decided to indulge myself in a spree of window shopping. Just traversing through the streets brought me to an exclusive boutique in Chennai, rightly named the Silkworm Boutique. 

After an hour of fruitful indulgence in lovely silk saris and kurtis and after having made a sample buy, as I was just making my way out, Hisham, the boutique’s owner, gently slid an invite into my hands. “Mam, this is for you. Every year we host a cultural event exclusively for our clientele, at Spaces, in Besant Nagar. It’s always on Sunday, at 7.30 AM. Please do come, I am sure you would love it’- he smiled disarmingly. Caught unawares, but pleasantly surprised, I pushed it into my handbag. On reaching home, I casually browsed through the invite and was intrigued to find that the noted contemporary pianist Anil Srinivasan was collaborating with noted singer Sikkil Gurucharan and performing the coming Sunday at Spaces in Elliot’s Road, Besant Nagar. And yes, it was to be at 7.30 AM in the morning! I knew I just had to be there. Maybe this was how the Universe was responding to my call for a welcome respite from the hum drum of day to day living. As Sunday dawned, I was in two minds. Do I feel motivated enough to haul myself out of bed and drive down to Spaces to attend a musical concert? Or do I snuggle myself deep into bed for the Sunday morning long snooze? My better instinct won out thankfully and before I knew it, was driving down to the venue. The verdant ambience of the place thrilled me .I knew I had made the right decision in coming. I was also pleasantly surprised to see quite a turn out at the venue, as early as 7 on a Sunday morning! 

People milled around in comfortable silence, casually sipping on cups of tea or chatting amicably with their friends. There was peace and quiet and a comfortably amicable camaraderie that prevailed all around. Even though it was my first time there, people warmly welcomed me by greeting me with bright friendly smiles. At 7.30 sharp, the recital commenced with a short introduction by both Anil Srinivasan and Sikkil Gurucharan. I settled down comfortably in my chair and allowed the soft strains of the music to wash all over me, cleansing my soul and rejuvenating my sagging spirits. From the well known ‘ Jagadhodharana, by Purandaradasa, the famous duo proceeded to pay homage to Toscanini by performing the piece titled the Silk Handkerchief, a piano variation of Tanamalika, expertly executed by Anil Srinivasan . It was followed by the popular’ Sitran siru’ by Sikkil Gurucharan, accompanied on the piano by Anil Srinivasan and as a fitting finale to the recital, concluded with a thillana by the musical genius Swati Thirunal. As the soothing strains of music washed over me, I felt energized and renovated from deep within. I felt all the stress and strain of the past few weeks draining out of me completely. The soulful rendering had done wonders to me, and left me feeling awed.

 I felt deep gratitude to the hosts of the show, especially to Hisham for having invited me to this musical recital, as early as on a Sunday morning. ‘Energies are high in the morning and music or a dance recital leaves you feeling highly charged, enervated and rejuvenated emotionally and spiritually. It gets you connected to your deep self. Moreover, the whole show goes on for just two hours. By 10, you are back home and the entire Sunday is yours’- clarifies Anil Srinivasan. Wow! That definitely makes sense. A year whizzed past but the early morning musical extravaganza had taught me to delve deep within me and to take time to love and nurture myself on a regular basis. Apart from work, I took time each day to do something exclusively for myself, like reading my favorite novel, listen to music, watch a movie or venture out on long nature strolls. In early January this year, I was thrilled to note an invite on my Face book page for yet another exclusive cultural event at Spaces. This time, it was for a dance recital by the well known dance duo Dhriti Vaidyanathan and Kiran Rajagopalan. The recital was titled the “Roots’, yet another cultural show hosted by Silkworm Boutique. I had no doubts as to whether I would be going. I was back at Spaces, I knew what I was in for and I could hardly contain m y excitement. Dhriti and Kiran transported me back to a timeless era. The mudras and the nimble foot work had me in raptures. The thala, bhava and raga moved me beyond words. 
Along with Kiran and Dhriti, even the verdant greenery and all our hearts swayed gently and rhythmically to the music and dance. These early morning recitals have helped transport all of us to a space deep within ourselves, that lies untouched, unexplored and most importantly, untainted by the rigors of time.

 I had learnt to strike a balance in life.