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Showing posts from March, 2010

Let Left Hand Know What Right Hand is Doing.

But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand knows what your right hand is doing.” (Matthew 6:3)

At times I feel that even Bible should get updated. If left hand doesn’t know what is going on with right hand, how can former improve itself? The latter’s deeds will also go unnoticed, won’t it? If we are helping needy, or doing a great deed, why are we ashamed or hesitate to inform the world?
In today’s world, sole thing people lacks is a certain level of motivation not money or other resources. Both young and old need role models to look upon. There is number of people who still need a pinch of inspiration to embark on such kind deeds or take up a challenge.
Few months ago, I had attended a celebration at a local school in Chennai. During that function, the head mistress, a diligent soft spoken lady, distributed school bags, cycles and number of other goodies to her students who are coming from very poor families. I had to interview her after the program. Till that date, I …

Survivor of Suicide…

A heartless suicide, Is the sole way he finds, To evade ruthless world that, Made him a loner and a loser…
A potent poison, Grabs him from life, Towards darkest nightmares, On lap of looming death…
A deep slumber, Draws a fine line, Between life and death, Between heaven and hell…
A dusky dance floor, Emerges on his death bed, Ghosts of past, performing, A furious farewell dance…
A mysterious voice, Whispers in his sealed ears, “You don’t deserve cowardly death, You have a long way to go!”
A black hole of death, Refuses to suck him in, Because he is worth living, Because he is worth blooming…
A lovely box of life, Pops up on his lifeless head, Showering all goodies, A good life can offer…
A tear of hope, Rolls down from his closed eye, Erases fine line of death, Draws him back to life…
A bright red carpet, Of life rolls down, Under the pale feet of, Survivor of suicide…

One Night with Snake-Snatchers!

(I’m really content that this write up of mine got published in The Hindu’s, youth supplement, NXg today.)

Irulars are a tribal community ethnically belonging to Negroid race of Africa dwelling mainly in the southern part of India. They habitations are mainly located at Kanchipuram, Nilgiris and Villupuram districts of Tamil Nadu. Their language, Irula, is an amalgam of both Tamil and Kannada. The name Irular means the people of darkness in Tamil. It could mainly because of their dark complexion and also could be their important events are traditionally happens in the darkness of night. Their main occupations were snake and rat catching besides trading of snake skin and forest products such as honey, beeswax and forest wood. The Irula economy had received a death blow since the government started enacting laws to prevent snake skin trade and to preserve the forest regions. But things seem bright nowadays as number of communal enterprises has come up along with the spread of education a…

A Dirty Jungle Run!

Ram’s car was heading towards Pondicherry in lightning speed-the odometer didn’t go down from 90 Km/hr mostly through the journey. The dying sun was showering down light red rays onto the dashboard brightening both of our faces like ripe oranges. Nobi plugged the headphone of the mobile phone into his ears and napping comfortably in the back seat while Ram and I went back to our good old days.
Ricky Martin’s ‘taking back my love’ started pouring out of the car stereo which made us sing together but I sang with a different lyrics: I’m taking back my life, my life, my life! “Justin, why? You lost your life?” Ram enquired. “Yes, I almost lost it once. But now I’m taking it back” I said recalling my nicotine addicted college days during which running even a mile got me breathless. All through the journey when I fall into my private thoughts, I was visualizing the joyful ordeal I would undergo next day with my legs pounding the trail during my second full marathon in life.
The sun had alre…