Enid Blyton,Pets And A Clowder Of Cats

   
                                          My association with animals started a long time back; when I was 10 to be exact. The acquaintance took its inception in the delicate, dust scented pages of Enid Blyton’s ‘Secret Seven’. While the exhilarating adventures of the kid gang insinuated deeper into the avid reader in me, the loyal dog Scamper never failed to amuse me with his charm. The chord that connected me to dogs strengthened a year later or so when a friend introduced Timothy to me, the adorable dog who stole the limelight in the Famous Five series. Harking back, I remember nurturing a heartfelt desire to own a pet as enticing as Timothy, someone to play with, someone to be my partner in crime, someone to keep me company in the dark hours of solitude. 

Maybe God answered a child’s prayer faster than an adult’s, for before I could present the matter to my parents, and before they could reject it hands down, I was presented with a cute little puppy, lost, hungry and panting at my door steps. Being scared to touch it, lest it bit me, I remember putting on my brother’s cricket gloves to scoop the beautiful bundle in my arms to carry it inside to replenish him with food, milk and a cozy abode. I named him Timmy as any dog who could conquer the heart of the little me could be nothing else but Timmy to me. 

 However the inevitable descended on me before long, as he started throwing up tantrums not befitting a 10 year old child’s friend and my parents ,who were already not quite happy with the idea of sheltering a stray dog were left with no choice but to discard him somehow or the other. And that forgettable day, when the sky was inky and crowded with clouds, as if they offered a hand in the crime by shrouding the earth in darkness, my dearest Timmy was packed in a box( with air holes) to be discarded somewhere distant. 

Gloomy days were to follow. Reading a novel turned out to be hardest thing I could conjure myself to do as the shy face of my dog seemed to sprout in each and every page. 

But before long, I forgot all about Timmy. Time heals, truly said. 

Coming back to the present, I can’t help but shout out that I am cuddling a creamy white bundle of treasure while I am writing this account. Confused? Let us turn the reel back a few months to make matters clearer. 

A stray cat stated frequenting my house around six months back. Being drowning deep neck in studies as my exams were nearing she could instill little interest in me then. Nonetheless, to my awe, the house started witnessing an unprecedented event those days. Yes, my parents were her biggest admirers! 

They fed her. They talked to her. They patted her. They made it a point to never forget to buy fish for her while they shopped for kitchen supplies. They called her sweet names. Need I say more, she was the darling of the family! 

She is all grown up now!

Having performed my exams, with loads of time to spare, I started noticing the guest who would wander around in my house, sleep on the ice cold floor as if she owned it and pay me little heed, let alone acknowledge me. The emotions that were once locked away in the dusty crevices of my past resurface a second time, much to my surprise. 

She conquered me in the blip of a second and in no time she was my soft, fluffy, lazy friend. She responds to my voice, sighs when I pat her and rubs her neck against my legs when she misses me. Moreover, she is my pacifier who consoles me in times of worry, to cloak me in a warm blanket of comfort, placing a smile on my lips, however disturbed I am. One look at her and the world seems a better place to harbour. 

Pets would, perhaps, be the most wonderful companion anyone could get!


                                                                      ~~


P.S : I wrote this post two months back. It had been lingering on the draft section. But now I have a reason to put the post across. My cat gave birth to four kittens! Let me tell you, they are a treat to watch!Check out the photos :) 

My pirate- My Jack Sparrow

                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                             

To Life!

Moving across the cacophonous lives of people displayed on the medium, I take a minute to adsorb in the many vagaries of life. In the frantic hurry to grab limelights, nurturing an implicit intention to be noticed in the crowd, aren't we knowingly or unknowingly forgetting the truest joys of mankind? To be appreciated is anyone's secret desire and it comes without say that there is indeed no harm in it. But, have you ever wondered that, perhaps, there exists an invisible fine line between a desire and greed?

Of Rain And Life

“I hate rain!”. I stated quite blatantly as the steady downpour dampened my voice. The person on the other end of the phone exclaimed in disbelief. Quite obviously so. For I myself is yet to see atleast one person in a group of five who doesn’t hold the mystifying physiology of earth, that is rain, close to his or her heart. He went onto dissect in fervor the many pros of rain and how it pacified him, refreshing his body and soul, while i blabbered on the many cons like how a rainy day created a havoc in my life, especially when it announced its entry early in the mornings while i am all dressed up neatly for a fresh beginning. 

The Belief

Far away, tucked in the sleepy downhill of one of the tallest mountains, existed a village named Lakora, peppered with dusky women and even duskier men. They spoke a language which was yet to metamorphose into strings of words written with a hearty soul. The hill peaks gave birth to sun every morning, well before six, showering the brightest rays on Mother Earth’s cheeks. The unrelenting cries that accompanied the same as birds fluttered their wings to distant places in search of food, settled into pleasantries at the warmth of the baby’s touch. 

This small space was intriguing in varied aspects. It was a mystery, the many dungeons hidden away in this murky of a place and the many secrets that had accumulated in those over the years.

‘ They brought illness to the family. They did. Those big blue marks!’, Buja stated explicitly. 

Lova listened to her grandmother, wide eyed as strands of jet black hair flung lower down onto her waist. She involuntarily caressed her pregnant abdomen, stretching her wrought, swollen legs on the steel cold cemented floor. The waft of spices being crushed at the nearest mill brought tears to her eyes. She suppressed a sneeze with the inside of her hand  as the old lady continued in her hoarse voice, diseased with abuse over the years,

‘ They kicked you a lot,Lova.They kicked you a lot. It never happened with the good ones. Terrible creatures they are - with blue sinful marks! But see, God exists. Never was devil of that sort delivered in this village after the aftermath that happened in Boa’s family.

‘ What happened to Boa’s family?’

‘ Not one member of her family survived the outrageous fire that broke out in their haystack years back the day that young girl gave birth to the ugliest little baby with the largest blue mark i have ever seen on its back, the last of that kind ever sighted in this village. Poor Boa and her husband. How happy were they before that dark cursed day!’

A soft groan slid through Lova's flushed lips. The tiredness of pregnancy was starting to take a toll on her delicate body, with each kick of her baby’s feet against her womb, every five minutes, sending a strange shiver down her spine. 

A torrent of deep burning thoughts rushed through Lova’s mind at the instant her grandmother shut her mouth up, a handful of betel nut leaves now engaging her tongue. Her village never had such a baby ever since? What were the odds of that happening? No one of that sort existed atleast in the near vicinity of the mountains. How strange! 

Lova shifted her place onto the armchair which gave her more space to relax while the baby moved inside with fervor. Her grandmother’s sordid words lingered in her thoughts as her heart started pacing to and fro in an arrhythmic pattern - 'sinful baby!'. 

A tiny droplet settled on her forehead startling her from her reverie. Huge black clouds raced towards her, wrapping her house in the heaviest of the blankets.

The next morning  Lova’s house woke up writhing in the wails of its occupants. Lova rested crying in her grandmother's arms as her distraught mother wiped away with trembling hands, the fresh blood stains on her daughter’s thighs.

' Why Lova, Why?' 

Lova muttered in between helpless sobs,

‘ The devil. It kicked me a lot, Ma. It kicked me a lot’

The fiery shade on Buja's face gave way to an implicit smile which dangled at the corners of her mouth. A blood stained death to a blood stained inception! Buja wondered at the tenacity of the belief that stained rooted over the years. She awed at how it stayed preserved amidst neololiberalism and modernity - safe in the manipulative hands of the midwifes or further yet, in the amateur quivering hands of the young hapless mothers. 

In Lakora, wasn't belief all that mattered ? 

Buja caressed Lova's restless locks as fresh strokes of pride blossomed on her cheeks. Her grand daughter had just saved them from a havoc. 

                                       _______________________
    

That Final Arc - Fiction

The overpowering scent of freshly brewed coffee hung invitingly in the air. It had been remaining so for the past few minutes, quite daringly challenging my alacrity - the alacrity of a professional who was unflinchingly feeding raw materials in constant streams to the contraption at hand, so that it would churn out the desired products in another blink of her eye. “ The elixir will just have to wait for another half hour more”, I muttered under my breath as the tantalized bundle of nerves in charge of my senses kept firing away diligently, seeking respite. 

It was close to 6 when I left my cabin, hurriedly sloshing down my throat a cup of tepid coffee. Half of my colleagues had already dashed for the cab which would take the employees to their respective homes.

“ Hey Maya, late as usual ? No shortcuts to success eh! ”

The clutter of the rattling keys that accompanied the raspy voice was allusive. I turned back and flashed my boss my widest grin before embarking on the elevator that led me to the lowest floor.

The sky was alarmingly pale that evening. No crimson tinge. No home bound birds. The scenario that but unraveled before me was entirely one that defied the signs of nature – public vehicles that swished past me emitted venom from every single crevice of their being and the pudgy man who knocked me down to the pavement was more a critter of a less civilized world than that owned by Mother Earth, thanks to the cords that drained him of his senses through his ears, both figuratively and literally.

The loud blast of an unidentified vehicle ( The latest SUV perhaps ? ) nudged me back to the problem at hand – That I was ten minutes late. And that unfortunately meant I had to wait for twenty minutes more for the next bus which took me home. And they say troubles, when they attacked you, they did so in torrents. The street vendors, all at once, started shifting their temporary workplace to more secure corners as bulky drops of rain started pouring down on the already weighed down world rolling before me, igniting both a fury and inevitability in the home bound people to move faster.

My eyes had already started vying with the cue of sleep, the frozen joints of my body badly in need of soothing. Sans an umbrella, the wisest way to evade the unwelcoming shower was to seek solace under the nearest roof and I did just that, undoubtedly and unerringly.

“ Ma’m would you like to take a look at the newest additions that we have?”

People had a way with pouncing on me from behind when least expected and as always I jerked my head in startle to the gleaming, albeit coarse face of a middle aged man standing right next to me.

“ Oh ! Sorry. I was trying to keep myself from drenching in the rain. Maybe some other time, if you will let me share an inch of your shop now till the rain subsides? Out of compassion of course?”

The chime of the golden bells left suspended from the entry door rang through the dingy, yet well cared to shop. A customer let himself in, brushing aside silver droplets of rain from his hair, though with an air of inquisitiveness, quite unlike the way I had barged in. Not caring to reply to my query, the shop keeper left my side, leaving me high and dry amidst a flock of customers who found their way through the shop with ease born out of practice. And that was what prompted me to look around and look around did I for the next few minutes.

Minutes zoomed past in a jiffy until that moment when the shop keeper startled me once again from behind.

“ So, are you from Kerala?”

“ No. Why ?!”

“ From the way you were sniffing the pages of ‘ The God Of Small Things’ a while back near the Booker Prize section, I deduced, however falsely, that you were intrigued by the theme of the book. “

“ I cant deny the fact that you were partly right. Indeed am i intrigued by the theme of the book, but that wasn’t the sole reason why I was found bonding with it”

“ So, have you read the book?”

“ A couple of times, yes. “

“ I see. Do you need anything from my book shop now?”

“ No, I don’t. I am not allowed the privilege of savoring the alluring pages of a newly bought book anymore. Working woman. Mother of a two year old. I guess that explains a lot!”

“Please enlighten me, will you ? I didn’t quite get the relation between the two.”

I watched the man as his sharp jet black eyes narrowed down to two slits, peering at me as if he was indirectly solving a riddle for me, a riddle which needed to be solved with utmost precision and direness. A desperate customer kept calling out to him from around the far dimly lit corner of the shop, perhaps seeking help to dig out his favourite book from the pile of Classics stacked against the edge. Ignoring the calls, he kept staring at me as if his next move depended wholly on my answer. 

I tried to laugh his query off, with a smug on my face, replying in a haste , “ You see, it is complicated. Reading was so much of a passion way back when I was in school and i used to be the happiest while cuddling up in my bed reading a new book. But now, the habit has died down or maybe I lost the drive someway down my neglected shoddy lane while I was scurrying past the polished highway in this mad race. I can squeeze in time if I need to at this point of time, but whether there be time or not, in the end, it is the inclination of mind that matters and unfortunately that is where i failed or rather that is where my life hassles failed me.”

“You cannot be truer ma’m. And maybe that is why only a focused few manage to live their lives the happiest while others live in desperation or at the least nurturing a slight yearning forever when all it takes is the right inclination of their minds to draw that final arc to perfect their life circle.”

As if it dawned on him just then that he had a customer waiting, he left my side, draped back in the cloak of a considerate shopkeeper, to lend his hand to the person at the far corner who was in search of that particular book he was dying to get hold on.

The street lay washed of all its sins at the mere touch of that steady rain. The parched sun had almost vanished behind night’s pall seeking a good night’s sleep, albeit not forgetting to hang his envoy, the round silver snippet of beauty, in charge of his kingdom while he peacefully slept. The city had r eclined back at the cue of nature and I stole a look at the book shop before boarding my destined bus. The shop keeper stood watching me from inside, his gaze implicit and his smile knowing. I tightened my grip on my newly purchased book, drawing it closer to me, before nodding a goodbye to the person who, out of sheer serendipity or perhaps even advertently, descended before me and slowed me down.
                                                 __________



P.S : Completely unrelated i know, still can't help but shout out that this is the 150th post :)

P.P.S: This story was published on Tamarind Rice, an online magazine, in its July issue. To know more about the magazine, visit their page Here. 

Rivulet

A flash of beauty,

The crack of dawn,

Shimmering sun's ray,

The scent of rain.

A surreal soundtrack

Or a soulful note ;

They take me back

And leave me sour.

I tried my best 

To make you mine;

The fire in me

But,burnt me whole.

I let you go

As someone told

For if only you sought

You were mine.

 Counting tides

I waited days

But no one came

Nor anyone spoke.

Why didn't you notice

That i was gone ?

My screams had echoed 

Through mountain mounds.

Tears rolled down

Formed eddy streams,

Till my rivulet grew

And left you far.

Wasn't he right ?

Who faithfully said;

That things sans reclaim

Were never truly ours to claim.

And that was when
It struck me hard;
That life was such -
So undeniably real!
_______

The Rainbow

Image Source : here

Twiddling her fingers, more on a habit than owing to impatience, Mira reclined back on her favourite spot at the extreme west corner of the park. She shuddered a little as the damp, cold metal surface of the sturdy bench pressed against her shoulder, thrusting a bolt of shiver through her petite body. A mellow pleasing tune had been sprouting inside her since morning and now, when the situation was least appeasing, the song was starting to wriggle free from the constraints of her mind. Repressing the urge to hum out the tune loudly, Mira diverted her thoughts to the lush greenery extending before her in all its splendour. 

Again, more on habit than on irkness, she rolled back the frilled lacy fringes of her sleeve to check the progress of time on her watch - the gleaming silver hands of her watch pointed it to be 5 0 ' clock in the evening . As if to prove the machine right, a cluster of clouds started drifting over her, imparting multiple shades of saffron hues to the sky . 

'This is so beautiful ' - Mira exclaimed as her pupils dilated as if in a trance to imbibe every bit of the mesmerising sight being presented to her by nature.  

Saffron has always been the most preferred colour of her choice. To her, the colour seemed to exude a melange of intense qualities. Any shade of saffron was enigmatic, alluring, boisterous and zestful all at once for her and intentionally or not, she always secured a saffron piece of cloth for the most auspicious of the occasions.

A cold moist breeze swept past her skin softly, taking care not to disturb the serenity lingering around her spot in the park.

Ahead of her, on the supple green meadow, sat a young couple encased in a bubble of their own, oblivious to  the many furtive glances thrown at them from the many corners of the park. The girl, seemingly in her early twenties, was snuffling every now and then, inviting a cascade of deep felt emotions in the form of endearing gestures from the boy, sometimes a graze of his fingers wiping her tears from her flushed red cheeks and at other times a consoling touch on her trembling hand. He seemed absolutely astounded on being indulging in the outwardly experience of confronting and comforting a goddess suffering in agony, something which would melt even the most insensitive of male hearts, at least in the blooming stage of a relation. 

' Life is indeed all about love in its multifarious forms '

 Half way through her thoughts, Mira smiled as she watched the girl lean her head against his shoulder, but the very next moment she was snapped back from her reverie as a lady cuddling a crying baby approached her spot. Mira slided on her seat to offer her space, finding that the lady was almost in tatters trying to pacify the frenzied child. 

' Do you need any help ?' , Mira asked the lady in her controlled voice. 

' Thank you . But its okay, my husband will soon join me. ' , the lady replied smiling, touched by Mira's kindness. 

' Kids are so demanding, isn't ? ' Mira stated while she bend down to pick the baby's cloth that had slipped out from the lady's grasp.  

' Oh yes, they are. In a bitter sweet way. They arrive storming into our lives walloping our minds in every which way possible, but eventually brighten our lives like an enthralling rainbow after the day long menacing drizzle. ' , the lady etched out a metaphor in the blip of a second, which Mira listened to in absolute amusement. 

' Are you a writer ? ' the query blurted itself out from Mira before she could restrain it. 

' Yes, i am. Now that is indeed a surprise, for even my husband never could conjure himself to decipher my metaphorical lines this easily. Oh, still, he is the most wonderful person in the whole world, I would say sans doubt ‘.

Seeing the eager expression on Mira’s face, she continued, though a bit reluctantly.

‘ You know, I used to be one of those secluded women who would cringe at the thought of marriage for fear that my much treasured freedom would be encroached and enslaved. How wrong I was, when I come to think of it now. Every stage of life has its merits and demerits. Somehow or the other, the merits always vanquish the downsides to propel life forward through thick and through thin. You just need to grab on steadfast, trusting your insights for the sight of a rainbow always awaits around the sharpest corner. '

Pausing for a second, the lady continued with much fervour dominating her demeanour. 

 ' Are you married ? If yes, you will surely understand what I am saying ‘, the lady enquired wrapping up her evocative flow of thoughts.

‘No i am not married, but i am definitely starting to understand what you are saying ‘ Mira said as her eyes coyly danced around. 

Noticing the curiousity flickering on the lady's face, Mira thought of explaining herself, but was stopped short by the lady who was staring ahead across the other end of the park.

‘ Look back. Somebody is calling out for you ‘, Mira glanced back promptly on the cue.

A smile broke out on her blushing face as she waved back exultingly at the person who was slowly turning to be the cynosure of her brimming delightful thought bits. 

' He came for me ' Mira told the lady in an exhilirated manner as she stood up to join her fiancee. 

Maybe her mind had retreated to its loquacious mood on seeing her love, for she sure did miss the glint of acknowledgement that shimmered on the lady’s smiling face as she watched Mira walk away in joyous strides. 

                                                     *********

Serving Till The Last Breath

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                                 Terrified and tainted , I stood alone in the midst of the barren land , which was till three months back a vast forest in all its pride. I shuddered a little when the long stout branch which stood grazing me swayed roughly to one side . It hit the hard rock bottom with the loudest thud I have ever heard . The most beautiful and awed- at plant of the forest , with its fresh green leaves ruffling cheerfully at the lightest cue from the softest breeze , my companion for six long years left my side . No .  It was murdered ! . Stabbed at the body for umpteen times over , as it refused to budge , my dear friend now lay dead and trembling in a heap of dried leaves  . 

    " Aah , let us take some rest now . " , I strained hard to hear those words . The proud tint in his voice could be recognised however far he stood . He was the leader of the gang which was appointed to cut down the trees to make way for the largest steel plant in the country .

"  Is it just me or do all of you feel the same after a day of hardwork and toil ? I guess this is what they call ' satisfaction ' ! He jeered at his friends , a gleam of victory shone bright in his eyes as he scanned the bare land exposed to its ultimate rawness .

  " Come , let us sit down under the shade of that banyan tree and have a pint or two . I cant wait to finish the job off  and grab today's salary . Dont forget that come what may , we are going to celebrate the last day of our tenure in this area tonight at Mahesh's toddy shop . "  He declared while his hands deftly played with the lid of the white coloured bottle .

                            A pang of fear shot through my trunk as he mentioned the word ' last day ' ! . Soon followed a wave of pain  at the thought of  the plight of my fellow beings . I miss my family . That day , when i found my little one slowly sprouting from the seed I left intentionally on the soil , I was elated to the core . Shouting as I might , I fluttered my leaves in ecstacy . Little drops of rain showered on us that moment as if they rejoiced too . The waft of fresh scent that emanated from the soil welcomed him to this world . A world where nature lived in harmony , a place so humid , so bright and so content - Our thick green forest !

                           I remembered the day when my little one nudged at me in excitement with his fragile roots when a group of birds flocked and nested on him for the first time . I found him the happiest that day . He kept still the whole day for fear that his slightest movement would disturb the little ones resting so trusfully on him . 

                         We offered comfort and shade , its our fruits that men savoured , we lent them shelter , we gave man even his life breath . Each moment man inspires air into his lungs , we do our part diligently such that he wouldnt get cyanosed breathing carbondioxide . And now, all those species of flora whose lively vibes and efforts served to balance the nature were brought down to a lump of logs merely in a matter of hours .

                      Men need us ! Time and again  Mother Earth tried  engraving deep on his mind the one truth to which mankind ever pretented to be oblivious of . That he can never dwell on Her unless he learns to respect Her . The wrath that She has been unleashing, albeit hesitantly ,was meant to teach him this lesson the harder way . Unfortunately greed has encroached his mind with its ever slithering chains to such an extent that he chose to be deaf to her wails , blind to Her tears  !

                        The violent gaze of the sun with its razor sharp rays shook me up from my thoughts . I realised for the first time how penetrating these rays could be , for the hugs of my taller companions never for once let me fall prey to such torments before . At the thought of which , i felt a deep agonising pain as a chunk of my flesh was torn apart from my trunk . " Oh ! Is it happening ?! " . I felt  my branches being mercilessly axed down by those workers . My leaves wailed in clutters more for the painful thought of having received such heinous torture in return for all those years of selfless service ! . I whimpered a bit before the last chunk of me was torn apart . 

                       The men were over whelmed on finishing their assigned job way before the allotted time . They scampered away in a hurry to stuff the wood they just cut onto the truck . In the peak of fervour none of them noticed the hard green mass that rolled off from one of the branches . A worker unknowingly stamped his feet onto the mass to push it further deep into the soil . It was a fruit ! The tree left the world , but not without leaving  behind the last glimmer of hope for the very manhood which left it in shreds. 


                                        ****************

P.S : Pause for a moment and think of nature as one among us. In this industrial world, cutting down trees has almost become a necessity for a multitude of reasons . But even then there is something we could do such that they dont end up as an endangered species . Plant a seed somewhere for every tree that we purposefully axe down . Let that act be the light at the end of the gruelling tunnel . 

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