Friday 21 July 2017

WHY DO 'CHESTERS' LEAVE US?


A broken heart is a source of inspiration for powerful music and art. But it can chew on your happiness and peace of mind, and if you can’t move on, the melancholy can become addictive, and FYI, it kills too.

The world has lost many of its most brilliant musicians and artists in general to death over this phenomenon.  From Kurt Cobain to Chester Bennington, they were all good at they what did, and inspired millions of people all around the world. They were unique and special, but they would have drowned themselves in the cacophony of their own thoughts, addicted to remaining sullen and sick over something that only they knew was true. Perhaps, they convinced themselves that it was true. One cannot guess the miseries and ordeals in personal life that they went through, for real, but if you know the real strength of human spirit, you will know that nothing is too strong for you to give up.

One of the most influential painters in the history of human evolution, Vincent Willem van Gogh has remained an inspiration for painters aspiring to do big all around the world. But even he lost his own battle. It is believed that he had Bipolar disorder, and if you know the devil, the disease is strong enough to capsize the last bit of hope you have of living peacefully.  Your mind alternates between extreme emotions, a medical condition, where chances of a comeback are bleak.  If you try to understand van Gogh’s paintings, you would feel like they were inspired from the backdrop of a creative but broken soul. And what do we learn from that? Is creativity and sadness akin to each other?

Substance abuse, binge drinking, depression and pain – It is a common conviction that they are all synonymous with the life of artists. This conviction (I would say) is a result of pure misunderstanding! It is just a choice! You can either see them as catalysts or yet another source to just chill out! Or maybe, you don’t need them at all. It’s all up to you, and the way you think to be precise.
To find inner peace remains the biggest challenge of all. And where are we failing? Why did we lose the best of musicians and artists to various branches of depression?

“Why am I here? What have I gained? Why did it happen to me? Why me? Why don’t they understand?” These questions form the foundation of most of the suffering that a human spirit goes through. With broken expectations, a shattered heart and tear-filled eyes, maybe one can come up with the best of music.  It is good to let go of your emotions on a piece of paper, or let it go with the flow onto the strings on your guitar. But what happens after that? Why are you not happy, when your music or writing inspires others? Why did you fight hard to get published, or make and exhibit your music in the first place, if you can’t take pride in what you have earned? And if you really read all the questions at the start of this paragraph, you will understand that they don’t have fixed or permanent answers. They are always flexible. A person is what he thinks he/she is. We are all lucky to be here. Think that, and most of those questions will be dwarfed by reality. Think of yourself as someone who inspired millions and you are a star; not for others, but most importantly for yourself; and that becomes you. Think of your life as meaningless, and that’s what it is. If you think of yourself as someone with a broken relationship and no real friends, then that’s you! You are what you think you are! So why leave, when you can build a better world for yourself, just by changing the way you think.

It is easy to contend that it is not easy to change. And it is not easy at all. But think of this – when you are sad and depressed, very often all it takes is just a good song to spring your mood up to an all-time high! When you see a baby laugh, when you listen to motivational speeches, it turns the table on your mood. ‘Mood swings’, in a positive way though, we can call it! Music, literature, and, life in common has enough to power, captivate and charge your soul. So when you know that a major changeover is possible, why do you give up? Why do you end up blind?

You do intensive work-outs, and your muscles develop! But you have to start working-out and eating or glutting is not going to help! When you run your imagination wild about yourself, you have to know that the scripting for your own life is taking place there! So, it all depends on the kind of work-outs you do!

Smoking is addictive, but how many times have you enjoyed your cigarette till the last puff! And why are smokers not able to quit if it is not that an enjoyable a habit. Just like brushing your teeth becomes a very important task in your life, smoking also becomes a part of your identity. If you relate the power of these habits on your daily life schedules, it will help you understand the problem that the artists go through. 

Depression and sadness not only became a creative tool, but it also became a habit that they couldn’t resist. They delved on it because they found beauty in it. And it did serve them well, but the masked demon in it swallowed them all. Sadness-turned-depression hunted them down. And they didn’t think so much as to avoid or understand its intervention, because they loved it in a way. To avoid all this, it is important to understand the power of happiness, and the art of flipping the coin upside down whenever it is needed. 

Just like how songs can change your mood in the blink of an eye, there are enough resources to uplift your mood all around you. But for that, you have to have the determination to change, which is the only constant! Keep on trudging and be patient till you see the green light! Faith is the answer, and your mind holds the key to all your problems. It is in you! Before anything, one has to believe in himself/herself, and take that leap of faith. We are all lucky to be here, and the one thing that controls our inner-peace is our own mind. If you don’t have it, you can always have it, but only if you are ready to start. To develop a muscular and fibrous body, one has to work out with a lot of discipline for several months. And similar to that, taming your mind won’t be an easy task, but on that part everyone should know that success is not an easy word, and it is not just limited to fame or glory. Success is when you decide to break the chains and set yourself free. Success is when you are happy! When you try to axe a habit of yours, it is never an easy procedure. Pain, sadness and irritation are part and parcel of the process. But it will eventually happen, and the habit will die off one day! People have battled even death and come out alive. When they staged a comeback, it was a message to the whole world that the mind has healing powers. And if you know yourself, and know how to tame the mind, you will realise that happiness is indeed a choice!


Sadness can inspire art and serve your creativity well. But if you don’t have them in check, if you forget to smile, then know that the real success of remaining happy and feeling lucky to be just alive, will always remain elusive to you. The choice is yours and it is very important because we can’t have more ‘Chesters’ leaving us! The world needs them!



Hemanth Sreekumar 
hemanthsreekumar.89@gmail.com

Sunday 8 January 2017

THE BEAUTY OF DISCUSSIONS THAT ARE FULL OF JUNK!



Your life may not be productive every passing moment, and one has no right or need to expect it to be. Some useless discussions, stories or passing comments make for memories that stand stronger than the supposedly idealistic topics like politics, life, world and much bigger things (again supposedly). Perceiving life to be productive by means of talking and reading only the most knowledgeable stuff, is the by-product of self-inflated thinking.  You deem yourself suitable only to discuss about the matters that flash on TV screens or things that can be associated to soul-searching, or in a nut-shell, things that are commonly perceived as damn serious! That’s pointless because not everyone is like you and while you had the opportunity to enjoy some conversations, you wasted those moments because you were more focused about your standards even as trying to relate and judge the topic being discussed and the person who speaks in front of you. Too much of useless scrutiny that killed the moments! That’s what I’d say!

Being enraged, rebellious, sympathetic or sad about the fate of humanity or about the political scenarios (that are unchangeable) doesn’t bring us any good; at least not always. Where is happiness in those moments? Food and shelter are the primary needs for a living, but talk about feelings and the ones that stand out from the rest, are love and happiness.  You don’t have to be the genius or a knowledgeable guy who can talk about anything – instead you should be the person who brings in an aura of happiness to the table, or someone capable of being a part of that happy group at least, rather than being judgmental and premeditating your mind that you are not going to indulge in some discussions that you deem are junk. Some junk food are unavoidable no matter how much we resist it right – that’s our appetite governed by the ground rule of life! We need it for a change. Similarly, we need some useless articles to spice things up in life too! It’s our choice, and nothing makes sense in fact – even your existence! We are like visitors on planet earth – all we have to do is choose happiness over things that are detrimental to our peace of mind.

If possible, you should be able to gift smiles to people. Those moments really count. Help as much as you can if it brings you happiness. But do not focus on proving your point or proving who you are every time. Not everything you do should make sense. At least once in a while, you should loosen the strings attached to your spirit and cut it loose. Laughing and watching others laugh is a different phenomenon that is unique and powerful. There is a vibe that helps you charge your thought process with loads of positivity. Do not miss that! (Conditions applied: Too much of it can kill your productivity too.)

Coming back to the point, write to express your opinions, but never do it to enforce them. Have a different or a unique and unbiased point of view, but don’t hate or treat the people who are different from you with pity. They are who they are. Don’t convert every moment that you breathe to boast and brag about your knowledge and viewpoints, unless it helps the other person. Even if it is all about helping, you should feel free once in a while. You should reduce the flames and learn to laugh! Don’t stress yourself too much with serious topics – at times bluff and junk that makes you laugh and look stupid, helps to ease the burden of survival and hence brings out the best in you while you are still alive to breath!

It’s all about how you nurture your thought process! Don’t fuck up your mind for no reason, and breathe free! Don’t be so serious. Be one among the common folks rather than convincing yourself that you are different! 

If you are different, that will show when the time is right!

Monday 22 August 2016

WHISKEY




Whiskey is sweet and it might cause a lot of pain, if you have any intentions to bid adieu. It’s a lesson well learnt. 

‘Whiskey’ is anything but sweet, and there is a reason to wonder why I am talking about it as if it is something that you share a relationship with... 

It’s not the beverage that I am talking about, but the little bundle of joy with a red ‘tilak’ that my brother-in-law Rahul brought home 10 months ago. He is a Bank Manager, and a Gujarati family gifted him an adorable female Labrador as a gesture of goodwill. 

Like my 4-year-old nephew, cute little Saarang, I was excited too at the prospect of having a little pup under my roof, though I hid my excitement under my nonchalant expressions, trying to act mature. 

The pup’s name, for God knows what reason, was Whiskey. Light cream yellow in colour, the single-boned Labrador was a beauty. 

My family and I lived in the same building. They lived in the first floor and a small room in the second floor was my dwelling. My usual breakfasts and dinners were with my family, and it was routine for me to play with Saarang everyday. After Whiskey’s arrival, I started to play with her too. She was simply irresistible. 

I have never had a pet in my life, because my mother was allegedly allergic to cats and dogs. I never knew and would probably never know if that was just a technique to stay away from all the hectic schedules that my mother will have to attend to if we owned a pet. Anyways, I used to see Whiskey every day and for me, she was like my first official pet. 

During this period, my sister was carrying and my family was totally against the idea of adopting a pet. But luckily, my brother in law didn’t have to fight for their approval for too long, as Whiskey spun a web of magic around my family with her innocent looks. Once my mother was eating Idlis for breakfast, and Whiskey sat near her in absolute silence, pleading with her eyes for a piece of it. The victory was Whiskey’s as my mother fed her a small piece, unable to avoid eye-contact with her. That wasn’t the first time my mother fed Whiskey. 

My family fell in love with Whiskey. It became Saarang’s main sport to check on Whiskey. Shouting, “Mummy, he pooped/peed on the floor” he would giggle and complain, as if he has never done that before. He loved her, though most of the times he would jump on a sofa, whenever Whiskey was around. 

Talking more about Whiskey, she would bite, only to make you feel ticklish. She would make random noises, only to direct your attention towards her. Whiskey would run around as if her tail is on fire, if you make her happy. (I don’t know why though) If you try to play with her, craning her neck, she would first observe your moments and fidget like a pigeon, trying to judge if you were serious about wanting to play with her. Once the decision is made, she would tilt her head to one side and start barking, only to spring into action the next moment with full enthusiasm and energy. Quit smoking, and you can play with her for 10 minutes at least. If not, you will be down under 5. 

I hate to use this word for all the ‘anti-pink’ and ‘anti-sweet’ concepts that I carry, but I have to say Whiskey was ‘Cute’. 

I had many dreams on how I would bring up my first pet, and how I would train it to be the best. The innovative ideas, I realised within the first few days itself, were easy to dream about and tough to implement. When it came to Whiskey, it was not easy at all. Like most of the labs or maybe a notch higher, Whiskey was loving and sensitive. No matter how much you attend to her, she would never get satisfied. Lesson: A Labrador pup craves attention and love, and if you can’t deliver it to them, you will end up feeling guilty every time you lock your eyes with it. The puppy-face, literally, comes into play. Like my friend Arun quoted, “Labs just can’t get enough” You just can’t spend some 15 or 30 minutes with a Labrador pup, and then consider your ‘duty to love’ for the day done. 

Some of my friends who visited my house occasionally pleaded us to train the pup only in English, as they feared someday they would have to struggle to communicate with her. She stole everyone’s heart with ease. 

For a month or so, things went smooth. She used to poop and pee everywhere inside the house, but we were ready to forgive and teach her in-house manners with patience. Whiskey fell sick and we had time to take her to a vet. She cried and my mother attended to her. She would not let us eat in peace, even if it’s Idli, but we were okay to share. We took care of her and soon, the pup and her poop, became a part of our family. 

All was well, until my family, except for Rahul, decided to move out of Bengaluru to our native place in Palakkad for a few months. It was time for my sister’s second delivery. This means, more than 5 months of hotel food! Adding to that, with my former roommate having the option to work from home (home as in, some 400 kilometres away at his native) it was left to my brother-in-law Rahul and me to take care of Whiskey. Mostly, I used to go to office by noon and return only by midnight. It was my usual working shift. Rahul’s was a normal one, but even his office timings were a bit unpredictable. This left Whiskey all alone in the house for more than 12 hours a day, or probably more. When our maid comes to feed her some rice or rotti for lunch, only then will she get to see someone’s face. Or else, she was all alone! 

Whiskey had to be chained too, as she had the habit of chewing on anything that she could get her hands on, or rather teeth on. She had inflicted enough damage already, which included a 5.1 surround system, sofa cushions, earphones, shoes, chappals and many more. So we were not ready to take more risks, and were trying to do some damage control. But this damage control mode left the small pup no space to run and play, or even to take a leisure stroll. If my family were there, Whiskey would have been unchained and set loose every two hours, as my mother would see to the fact that she was happy. But situations had changed. We felt sorry for her every time we returned home. She would wag her tail and implore with her eyes, to set her free. We would be tired by the time we get back home, and once Whiskey was set free, she would come and chew on the bottom of our pants, trying to make us to play with her for a while. Being frank, we couldn’t respond to it, at least on half such occasions.

But I have to give it to Whiskey - there was no dearth of love in her eyes or actions. She was intelligent for a small pup, and even now, somewhere deep inside, I still believe that she bore with all the pain and suffering because she knew we couldn’t help it.

Whiskey went through a rough patch next. Health-crisis started to haunt her as she fell sick regularly. On one occasion, she was feverish and refused to eat food for close to 2 days. The pup vomited something green every time she ate food. We tried our best to spend time with her, tending to her needs and cleaning after she vomits all over the floor. However, we had to go to office and we had no option, but to entrust our maid with the responsibility of looking after Whiskey during the afternoon hours. But then again, she was alone by 4 PM, as our maid like every other employee, would leave at least an hour early, as her bosses were not around. We asked our neighbours to check on Whiskey once in a while, and we still don’t know how much it worked, though I thank them for their regular updates on when the maid arrived and left.

Whiskey’s fever started fluctuating like Sensex. It was totally unpredictable. One day, Rahul gave her the morning medicines, I fed her breakfast, like usual, and we left. We never knew we were in for a shocker next.

I was the first to return home that day and I was heartbroken to see the pup shivering, biting on the corner of some ragged cloth that she found on the floor. When I opened the door and took a closer look, I realised she was completely drenched. Someone had poured water on her. Our maid and most of our neighbours were aware of her sickness. So I wondered who would do something so cruel to a little pup that could have been life threatening. I dried Whiskey with a towel and hugged her as tight as I can. For the first time, my eyes welled with tears for Whiskey.

Before I entered the flat, I had seen kids from my neighbourhood playing with water, and the realisation struck me suddenly. The kids had poured water on Whiskey. Upon doing some serious investigation, I learned that they had poured more than 5 litres of water on her, that amounts to 20 rounds of water splash at least using a mug, after she refused to respond to their calls. (She would have if she wasn’t sick)

I warned the kids, and even their parents. My neighbours were shocked at the way I issued the half-threat, half-caution at them. I was fuming and to me, those kids were like some real life villains in the making. To be honest, I would have made them stand in a row and spanked them all.

In reality, I was helpless. Whiskey’s health had deteriorated, and from a pup that used to run around as if its tail is on fire, she transformed, or rather we made her transform into a silent pup. I couldn’t do anything else, but to feel sorry for the small pup that knew nothing but to love, and to ask for love. She was feeling cold and was shivering for more than 2 hours. Someone splashed cold water at her and she couldn’t even run. She would have cried, or maybe she would have just lied down, waiting for us to return and rescue her. 

This incident was just the beginning of the bad days that followed. We were dealt with a huge blow next, when Rahul’s transfer order came. It was part of the Bank’s protocol to transfer their employees, especially officers and Managers, once every three years. The sad thing was, he wasn’t shifted elsewhere in Bengaluru, but to Chengannur; this is to Kerala from Karnataka.

Suddenly, there was chaos. The unending discussions started: How will the family cope up with this move? My sister worked with CTS in Bengaluru, so how will the husband-and-wife duo live in different locations, and how will they manage it financially, that too with two kids to look after, if my sister was to quit her job? What about Saarang’s schooling in Bengaluru? Should Rahul resign? Should Rahul start searching for a new job? Sadly, a discussion on Whiskey was a rarity. 

_____________________________


There were so many confusions within the family and poor Whiskey was not even in the picture. So much was at stake that the poor pup was not even included in the priority-list. 

There were two options available with us when it came to Whiskey. One was to give it off to someone in Bengaluru or in Kerala. Selling, or gifting – anything worked. The second option was to handover the pup to my brother-in-law’s parents in Kerala. Here, yet another problem stood as a hindrance. Rahul’s parents were not actually willing to take care of Whiskey, though they liked her a lot. They had their own reasons to choose not to.   

Either ways, the pup had to leave. I was heartbroken. So was my brother-in-law. But he had bigger problems to deal with. 

There were days when I used to tie Whiskey up outside my room, in such a way that she can rest under my roof, but at a safe distance from my bed (biting issues). I used to get irritated when she whined, and there were occasions when I have hit her too. I should confess! But as soon as the verdict on Whiskey’s future came out, I regretted everything, even the minute moments I have ignored her. From then onwards, I started to cherish every moment with her. I started to spend more time with Whiskey, and I started to enjoy Whiskey’s baby complaints, when I tied her in my room, when my brother-in-law was away.   

Though he was busy, Rahul was not bad either. He looked at Whiskey in a way that conveyed his helplessness in making her stay back. But then, he had too many farewell parties to attend to.
We had only started to train Whiskey. If I shout, ‘SIT’, she sat. If I ask her to stand up and run, she would obey too (rarely). She knew fetch too. But, that was it! That was all about the unofficial training she had undertaken from us. She had to leave!

Finally, the day of reckoning came for us. Rahul’s uncle had agreed to look after Whiskey. This man stayed in Nilambur, Kerala, and the plan was to drop Whiskey at his residence as soon as possible.

We were crestfallen. There will be no training and she will have to live the life of a local dog at Nilambur.

I still remember kissing Whiskey’s forehead when I bid her goodbye. It was a relationship with only a few months’ life. But she was dear to me.

I cursed myself for not having the guts to say, “I l do it myself”. My brother-in-law regretted bringing her home. It was as if, she was going to her third house within just 4 months. It was as if, we brought her home, only to give her away. We never really owned her, and we never got a chance to enjoy her loyalty and love. In a way, we never deserved it, or at least we thought so...   

_____________________________


6 or probably 7 months passed, after Whiskey left for a new home. Labradors grow fast. Within 6 months, they would beat an average stray dog in height. If you feed them properly, they will be all healthy, and fleshy. In a nutshell, let’s say, a lot more cuddlesome!

People move on. After disastrous love failures, or even after death of loved ones, people stage a comeback. It might take time, but in the end, it happens. It leaves a gaping hole inside, but life goes on. Some people fail to grow up, and they nail their life refusing to accept change. I was not one among them. At least in this case! I moved on.

I wanted to see Whiskey though. I wanted to know how she looked and what her reaction would be when she sees me after a long time. I am no longer its master. I was just one of the chapters in her life.

Well, I got a chance finally. It was an opportunity that presented itself through the same person, who made the first move, unintentionally though, in changing Whiskey’s fate – my 2-month-old niece. We were supposed to go to some temples as a part of the tradition in our caste that calls for newborn babies to be fed rice, anytime after 2 months’ of their births. My sister had decided to do it at the earliest, and we embarked on a small pilgrimage.

The first place we were supposed to visit was ‘Thirumandhamkunnu’ in Malappuram, Kerala. As this was close to my brother-in-law’s native place, we decided to stay at his house, and start early in the morning. I was happy to do so. My plan was to drive my family safely from Bengaluru to Nilambur first, take a nap, and finish off the day with a supposedly nostalgic visit to Whiskey’s new or rather real home.

We reached Nilambur by evening, and as per my plan, I took a nap. As soon as I woke up, I made plans to visit Whiskey next.

Whiskey’s new home was roughly a five-kilometre drive from my brother-in-law’s house in Nilambur. By the time I reached Rahul’s uncle’s house, I was welcome by a royal woof-woof.

The house stood on a vast expanse of land filled with green lush. The earth was damp, and I could feel the drizzle that paid a visit some time ago, with the smell of it still clinging onto the ground and piercing my nostrils.

When we were about to park the car, Rahul’s dad pointed his finger at a dog saying something, and all I heard was ‘Whiskey’. I was a bit nervous and excited, and I didn’t hear a thing that he said.

It was a Labrador! And guess what, the colour was matching too. I jumped off from my seat to have a better look at the dog. When I started to get a clear sight of the dog, the words from Rahul’s dad became more and more audible to me.

“Whiskey is inside the cage right behind this one.”

I could see a silhouette of another lab, right behind the one I had wrongly assumed to be Whiskey. The second dog began to bark and jump, silencing the first dog in the process, making thumping sounds on the wooden cage. (You can’t call that a cage, it’s more than enough for me to sleep) When I went closer to the second cage, I saw a Labrador jumping and barking at me, like it was sort of angry at me for some reason.

It was a bit dark, but I saw her though I couldn’t bring myself to touch Whiskey’s face. Through the narrow openings in the cage, she put her drooly mouth for me to touch. It was a mixed feeling for me, I was nervous though I tried to act calm and composed. I knew that the dog I was looking at was Whiskey, but it was too big for me to deal with it like good old days. It was a big one and a bite would no longer be trivial, or ticklish.

I summoned all the courage I had and went for it. I touched it slowly!

My nephew who came with me, was all excited till then to see HIS PET, as he called it. (You have to give it to him. Even after some 6 or 7 months, he wrote his ‘favourite pet’ as ‘Whiskey’ in one of his homework) But as soon as he heard the matured barking sound of the dog, he ran towards the house and hid himself behind my sister’s knees.

I touched her! The energy levels came down and for a second, I felt like Whiskey was imbibing the moment. This was a good sign and this motivated me to open the cage. I was scared as my Rahul’s dad kept on warning me that Whiskey would jump on me. But I took the risk, and there it was!

Whiskey jumped out and went in circles around me, before running like a mad dog all around the house compound. Just like old times! She was so fast that my sister locked herself inside the house. Whiskey was bigger than a sheep and muscular than twice a sheep, if it makes sense. Whenever it came close, I could the impact on my knees, as they quivered on their own. Whiskey would come to me, sniff, snap its jaws once or twice near my clothes, and run around again. This scared me. Finally, I plucked up the courage to call her name in my usual style.

“Whiskeeeyyyy.....”

You should have seen the way it responded to my call. It was like a wake-up call to her memories from the past. It was as if she decided to kill the months that passed, and be my good old pup.

It came close and jumped on me, before I started to play with her saggy skin. Suddenly all the fear I had was gone. I started to cuddle with Whiskey, as I massaged her forehead and droopy neck. I learnt from my brother-in-law’s dad that Whiskey had less hair because of some illness that has already cost more than 10 grand from the house exchequer. Nevertheless, she was a beauty.

Within a few minutes, the new owners started telling me stories of how Whiskey caught a fish from the aquarium and ate it, and how she denied the homecoming of two electricians who were perched on top of an electric pole, and many more. I realised that Whiskey was having the time of her life in Nilambur. And with plenty of space to play around, she was on a roll!

By this time, I had gained complete control over Whiskey, which shocked everyone in that house. She was listening to me and obeying my orders. Whiskey was sweeping the floor with her back as I cuddled and massaged her. She was not that clean and I could smell the typical dog-smell on her. But that was something that least bothered me as I played it without any break. I made Saarang get out of the house, and urged him to play with her as well. For a sweet little kid he is, Saarang trusted me and started patting Whiskey slowly.

I didn’t even know how 1 hour went by. People around me said so many things, and all I heard and saw was ‘Whiskey’!

Shocking me for a second time, she remembered ‘fetch’ and all the other stupid games that I tried to teach her in the past. I looked like a farmer coming after a day’s work on the muddy field, but I truly didn’t care for my appearance. Even I would have written Whiskey as my pet’s name if I had homework as Saarang’s.

Finally, the time came for me to bid farewell to Whiskey! Whiskey’s new owners said she would obey if she is asked go to her cage. This time on, she didn’t listen to them, as they shouted the orders at her. She was hesitant and I had to plead to her, to make her get inside the cage. And I left after planting a few kisses on the dog’s forehead.

For a second time, tears welled up in my eyes. This time on, I didn’t give a fuck if someone saw me.
I could hear Whiskey barking behind us and I knew I wouldn’t see her for God knows how long. My nephew was sad that we had to leave Whiskey behind. He wanted to take Whiskey home. But I was not that keen to do so.

I wanted Whiskey to stay at Nilambur. I wanted Whiskey to live there. Even if she dies of a snake-bite, she would have lived her life with full freedom. She isn’t trained, but she obeys and knows how to love and respect. She has another Labrador for a friend, people to feed her at the right time and so much of space to run around, play and explore (some in-house fishing too). What more can you ask for?

I love that dog and I would never chain her again!

You have to drop certain things, even if it pains. A better outcome is in the offing, and you will feel good about it later. Let them live a better life...  


Hemanth Sreekumar 

Friday 20 May 2016

THE WINKING LIGHT

“There is a better road to God’s abode than religion!”
Religion is just a signboard, and not the road!”



Abu asked Aziya to do the ritual cleansing and come to the prayer room soon.

Aziya rushed towards the rear of the house, washed her hands from the tap, rubbed her feet using her tiny toes and soft heels, splashed some water on her face, and quickly returned to the room, after wiping the water droplets off her face using her long sleeves.

While the prayer lines were recited by Abu who had his eyes closed, Aziya opened hers’ a wee bit by the corner to look at how others prayed.

She loved to do it. ‘Watch others pray, and get amused by it every time.'

There is another reason why Aziya used to do this - a bigger, better reason.

A hidden magic that she swore to herself she won’t tell anyone.

The light winked at Aziya when everyone else in the room would pray with their eyes closed. The prayer room usually has only one candle lit, and when the light winks at her, the room would switch to darkness for a few milliseconds, and return to its light yellow hue.

She started to witness this fantasy ever since her father Abu declared Aziya to be fit enough to attend prayers every day with the family.

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Hazel had a broad smile glued to her face, and eyes gleaming like a pair of cherries on a pastry.

Hazel’s elder sister nudged her and asked her in a whisper. “What? Why are you smiling like an idiot?”

In a sudden change of demeanor, Hazel’s face reddened as she frowned at her sister.

She thought, “Why would she bother to know? She didn’t see the magic! She can’t too. The candle light is my best friend. Only mine!”

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Sahiti closed and opened her eyes at least ten times. She wondered, “Why isn’t it happening today?”

She got irritated and then walked out of the room.

Anjali, Sahiti’s mom, asked her, “Why, what happened to you now? Looks like Gods didn’t give you the candies you asked for.”

Sahiti didn’t enjoy the joke. She just stormed into her room and crashed flat on her face.

It was only after a while that Anjali realised that Sahiti had dozed off. She entered the room and spread a blanket on her daughter.

Kissing Sahiti’s forehead, Anjali lit a candle in the room before she left. It was pouring outside, and anytime she knew, there might be a power cut. And Sahiti would wake up scared in the room.

Sahiti did wake up after a while, and the power had gone.

But she didn’t get scared. Sahiti’s mom and dad were right beside her, sleeping.

Soon, her eyes started protesting, as slowly she drifted back to sleep. But before her eyes shut by itself, she saw the light inside the room; the candle light to be precise; flicker once.

Sahiti smiled and fell asleep.

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Four years passed by and Aziya, Hazel and Sahiti were no longer the little ones they used to be. 

They went to school every week day, did their homework, played in the streets with their friends, and helped their parents in household chores in whatever ways possible.

But this was not the telling difference in the way they lived. Something else was different - something that they missed, something they yearned for a glimpse.

Every time a candle is lit, they would expect the miracle to happen. But it never did.

What was regular became intermittent, and then very rare. Then after a couple of years it had stopped.

The winking light didn’t even bid a nice goodbye before leaving once and for all.

The trio was stricken with grief whenever they saw candlelight. But they were moving on, slowly, learning to cope up, making it a habit not to stare at the burning beauty.


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3 decades later, Sahiti’s little son Anay fought with his dad for a Labrador pup.  

As always Anay had his way. He got the pup, and lost his interest in it, within just a few days.

Cleaning the poop, feeding the pup, and taking care of it, which includes even cuddling – all the responsibilities were on Sahiti now.

She got fed-up cleaning up the leftovers of what the pup used to bite or rather tear down in the house.

Finally, she came up with a plan. Sahiti would lock the pup inside a room, with only a mat and nothing else for the pup nearby to chew on. And this worked!

Sahiti would provide the pup with enough water in a bowl before she slept. When it rained, she would light a candle in the room before she goes to sleep – similar to what her mother used to do for her.

Sahiti had grown to like the pup in a way.

One day, before Sahiti closed the door behind her, the power went off. She turned to double check if the candlelight was on.

When she turned, she saw her Lab staring at the candle light with some curiosity.

Before she could turn her attention to the candle, she saw a short but perfect flickering of the light inside the room – just like old times...

Sahiti opened her mouth in awe and stared at the candle in disbelief.

Then she looked at the pup, which was fidgeting and nibbling at the floor mat. It looked up at her. The kind of expression that says, “What? You have something to eat?”

“It didn’t even realise it was magic!”




 Hemanth Sreekumar 

hemanthsreekumar.89@gmail.com