Nuances

Within

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Sun, 25 Dec 2016 18:16:00 +0000

There's a need to let go,
A need to forgive,
A need to close my eyes,
To endless fruitless trials

There's a face that can smile,
A face that can glow,
What I see no one else can see,
No one else commiserates with me.

The mind keeps wandering,
At war with the past,

Body and soul still,
Forgetting the present.

To hold on or to let go,
To run or to hide,
To sink deep down,
Forever within me.

So what if I am reading a book meant for children?

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Mon, 05 Oct 2015 11:44:00 +0000

I read all kinds of books; more fiction than non-fiction and most importantly irrespective of the age group it is intended for. There are books classified as children's literature which is a genre I like to read once in a while. The only thing I do not like while reading a children's book is the funny look I get from people who probably state - "Aren't you old to read this book?" or similar expressions of subtle mockery which may be trying to convey that I haven't reached anywhere in the so-called intellectual or super literary book-reading club that people of my age tend to flaunt.

My reaction to this is yet another expression(s) - Sigh! Hmmph!

I recently did a search on the Internet about adults reading children's literature and oh my ...the bashing lashed out in support and against was overwhelming. A wee bit relieved that there are a lot of people like me who like to read or re-read (for those who are relatively well-read right from childhood) books classified as children's literature and young adult literature.

I don't re-read books (at least...not yet!) because there are sooooo many books on my to-read list. Hats off to those who really manage to re-read their favourite ones! I believe I haven't been able to enjoy so many books in my teens simply because I was only exposed to a very small set of authors like Ruskin Bond, Enid Blyton, Carolyn Keene, John Grisham etc. There are so many classics (many meant for children) that I haven't read, so once in a while, I like to pick up these and read. And I am really enjoying it. The latest one I read is Anne of Green Gables and it was a delightful read.

Reading classics can sometimes prove to be a reminder of certain human emotions that seem to be rare in today's selfish world. Reading for me is re-living a childhood memory of enjoying a book while munching on a packet of chips and when the book happens to be a children's book, the experience becomes dreamy and complete.

C.S. Lewis truly made my day when I came across one of his quotes -

“A children's story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children's story in the slightest.”

Reminiscing on Women’s Day

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Thu, 08 Mar 2012 12:53:00 +0000

UPDATE - April 3, 2014 - Ever since the Nirbhaya gang rape incident on 16 December 2012, the views that I had stated in this post (dated March 8, 2012) have been shaken. That incident left me stunned and terrified. No amount of roses on Women's Day can pacify Indian women as long as horrific incidents like these continue to happen in the country. Every Woman's Day in India as of now needs to be celebrated as a day to be thankful for the fact that we are still alive and not yet attacked.

Today is International Women’s Day, a day which seems to me that only women seem to be wishing each other and some men for the heck of it. I guess many men must be wondering what’s with all the fuss for this particular day. I too tend to think along these lines. With a slight feminist overtone, I also tend to think that can’t every day be a woman’s day?

Celebrating Women’s Day explicitly probably can bring to light social causes like women's empowerment for those sections of society who still think that the female sex is incompetent and incapable. The day should also ideally create awareness of how women can reduce the notion of being considered vulnerable. I guess even success stories of women also help to create awareness that women are climbing the ladder of success just like their male counterparts. But probably one shouldn’t just wait for this day alone to highlight all of these achievements.

I believe that the notion that women are comparatively weaker is all just in the mind. Notions of that nature just result in women creating some unreal fear within themselves and men think that women are incapable. Common sense should tell you that it is not physical strength that is being referred to here. This makes me go back a few years in time, during my college days. There were days when we had to head back home after college a little late in the evening. Anytime after 6 pm was considered relatively late back then in Kochi. I could see the concern in the eyes of those who enquired as to which bus stop I would get off from the public bus. The bus stop I had to get off was Boat Jetty which was considered to be a shady place later in the evening. But I guess that was ages ago but still, people considered that area to be that way. For me, it has always been a fairly crowded place teeming with people all around. I am also very aware of who is around me and I think that also helps to ward off unwanted advances.

I recollect the concern many female college mates had if they had to travel after 6 pm back home. I used to wonder shouldn’t fear just set in if you can see something that is going to happen? Why should you just anticipate and mentally invite fear for no reason? I used to often wonder back then about all the activities women would be putting off for the next day just because they all had a Cinderella time of 6 pm to get back home!!

I believe if you always imagine and anticipate all the nasty things that could happen to you then most likely all of it would happen at some point in time. It’s like you are a magnet attracting the negative energy around you. I admit the general atmosphere in a public bus after 6 pm is a bit shady but I never used to panic and always had a watchful eye for my safety. During my four years of college, I have not had any bad experiences with returning home late (the latest back then would have been 7:30 pm!!!). I believe if something had to happen, it could have happened at any time of the day. (Yes, there have been random incidents and all of them were before 6 pm!!)

It’s inspiring and great to come across women who are successful and who don’t allow trivial matters of imaginative fear to come in the way of aiming sky high. Let every day be a women’s day!

Quote by my friend Samuel Valentjin Vooren - let every day be a day for everyone (female as well as male) who acts with a pure heart, respect and the intention to do good... A sort of nice people day :)

George Clooney Vs Mohanlal

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 11:06:00 +0000

Yesterday Manu and I headed off to PVR Cinemas expecting to get tickets for Mohanlal's movie Casanovva. It was not the expectation of seeing a good film that made us look forward to getting the tickets but it was to have a good laugh at the club song 'Hey Manohara Theerame' in the movie and many other gimmicks. Both of us are not anti-Mohanlal but in fact, we are hard-core Mohanlal fans of the 80s and the 90s. So when we compare his recent movies, we tend to reminisce about the amazing characters he portrayed back in the 80s and the 90s and wish for the same only to be disappointed with the movies he has been associated with lately. Why does Malayalam cinema have to ape Kollywood and Bollywood? Of course, at the moment, I am being quite unfair by assuming that Casanovva would be a disappointment without seeing the movie or reading the previews and reviews. However, this post is not a movie review on Casanovva so let me get back to the point and not digress further.

We were misled by the 'Now Showing' poster of the movie Casanovva and realised later that the movie was yet to release. (We are movie buffs but not to the extent of keeping track of the dates of movie releases!!). Determined to watch some movie, we decided to watch an English movie called The Descendants. The fact that it got 5 Golden Globe nominations and Oscar nominations was an added plus to look forward to the movie. As the title of this post suggests, this is neither a movie review of The Descendants.

After the movie was over, we stepped out and as usual, I asked Manu for his feedback about the movie. He agreed with me that the movie was interesting and engaging. But he did not feel that George Clooney's acting deserved a nomination for Best Actor. He asked me, "Don't you think Mohanlal had plenty of movies where his acting skills have truly surpassed George Clooney's back in the 80s and the 90s?" Of course, this thought is only regarding George Clooney's performance in the movie The Descendants. Manu felt that Will Smith would have done justice to the role. I too agree on this.

Probably if Malayalam movies like Deshadanakkili Karayarilla, T. P. Balagopalan M.A., Gandhinagar Second Street, Namukku Parkkan Munthirithoppukal, Nadodikkattu, Akkare Akkare Akkare, Yodha, Manichithrathazhu, Pakshe, etc were promoted globally, these movies would get a wider audience and who knows, these movies would have got a nomination at least. Then comes the question - Why do Malayalam movies have to run behind the Golden Globes and the Oscars? The only reason that comes to my mind is that in doing so, it would receive much-deserved critical acclaim on a global scale just like many other foreign language movies. Malayalam cinema is a special genre in itself. Nothing should change that.

Drift of the 'Friend' ship

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 11:17:00 +0000

It is with a heavy heart that I realise that I have reached a stage in life where almost everyone I know except for my immediate family members is so busy with their lives and problems that I do not get to hear from them.

I often recollect the wise words of my close friend Staizy regarding the importance of family. 'Whatever you do, however far you are, only your family would be eager to know what is happening in your life and stand by you in times of trouble'. Every time I hear a 'no answer' tone when I ring up some of my friends or do not receive replies to emails for ages, that's when these words start echoing in my head.

Of course, I do not entirely blame my friends. There is a lot of blame I need to take up as well as there have been times when I choose to remain aloof due to various reasons. But the fact is this, some are genuinely busy in their lives and have other priorities and at the same time, some just take people for granted and do not make any effort to keep in touch. The 'Friend' ship has drifted off to other shores in the latter case. I have come out of my 'aloof' shell many a time only to realise that there are some people who choose never to respond back even if I take the first step in refreshing the friendship that we had once upon a time.

A few months back, I caught up with one of my close friends. We have been in touch often so we weren't catching up after ages. We chatted about the good old school and college days, our crazy workplaces, about long forgotten faces, etc. It was during this conversation my friend got emotional and defensive about keeping in touch with some of our common friends. Her perspective was not just the truth, it was the kind of truth that hurts. And I realised that I have been trying to not accept the truth.

So what is the truth? My friend told me - "Don't you think that these friends of ours who always have other things to do can't keep in touch because they don't want to and not because they can't?" On hearing this I kept defending all those who did fall into this category. The more I debated with her, the more convinced I got that there was some truth to what she was saying as there were a few who didn't even seem to make an effort to keep in touch. As far as some of our common friends were concerned, they seem to have other priorities or rather always have other priorities when it comes to keeping in touch. On many occasions, this trend is very noticeable and you wonder how come it was right the opposite during the 'good old days'? My friend was emotional at the mention of a very close friend who chose no longer to keep in touch. When things like these happen, one tends to think of what is true friendship? I just told her this - "Well, true friends would make an effort to keep in touch even if it's after ages and when they do, let us not snub them off but at the same time not expect too much. Let's hold on to those who are almost always there to say Hi and Hello."

Deprived Indian souls

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Sat, 17 Dec 2011 17:54:00 +0000

I came across the article in the Times of India 'Indians 5th most vacation deprived' at a time when I had a squabble with my manager regarding my taking 3 days off for holiday. I took it combining a weekend and later realized that I had never taken 5 days off at a stretch except for some medical emergency. He highlighted the losses the company would incur because of my absence. The truth is I do not gain anything by not going ahead with my holiday plans.

The article was comforting in a way because it gave some statistics as to how truly deprived the Indian employees are. Of course, this does not mean all Indian companies are like this but a vast majority is very much of what the article had reported.

I agree with the point highlighted in the article that the Indian bosses consider a ‘vacation’ as a luxury. As a result, they tend to associate an employee holidaying as ‘not hardworking’. Recently, I was chatting with a friend of mine who was looking forward to her holiday that she had planned out well in advance. She works outside India and the work culture is such that a vacation is considered a necessity for an individual.

In the West, everyone talks about their holiday plans and is given so much importance and here we have bosses who would try to convince us to reduce the duration of our holiday if we plan to take more than 2 days.

In this day and age where all companies are aiming for high productivity, somehow the Indian managers fail to realise that proper rest for the brain is a contributing factor to high productivity. Results achieved by a stress-free mind would be like finding gold in a gold mine. A vacation would prompt all employees to work their asses off when at work and look forward to a relaxing vacation. And they would be back in the office with a rejuvenated body and soul.

Another aspect that is common in the Indian work culture (specific reference to the IT world) is that working late in the evening or staying up the entire night is considered to be some kind of accomplishment. Of course, I am not referring to people who work night shifts. I am talking about people who are supposed to work from 9 am to 6 pm but still end up in the office beyond 9 pm.

It is strange but true that many a time, you get praised or noticed for the work that is completed by staying late than the work that gets completed within the official working hours (9 am to 6 pm). Shouldn't it be the other way round because wouldn't that indicate the employee is efficient in his work? Many a time, I have noticed that if you submit your work (say by email) by 5:30 am which is an indicator that you are done with your day and will leave soon, your lead/manager will almost definitely be at your desk the next minute asking random questions (visualize shooting aimlessly into thin air) and some work would be given so that you can't leave by 6 pm. Sometimes you would be assigned some work at 5:30 pm that needs to be completed urgently almost daily. Don’t you think there is something amiss here? Isn’t management supposed to be all about proper planning?

Some people however play a smart game. They would send the updates on their work just 5 to 10 minutes before leaving (read as fleeing) for the day. The situation is such that 'fleeing' seems to be the solution for now to deal with the Indian bosses.

For the overworked Indian IT professional, a vacation is a must-have. I felt so rejuvenated after a week’s vacation and my mind was so fresh and energetic. I am looking forward to my next holiday.

Manic Mondays

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 07:32:00 +0000

The song Manic Mondays by The Bangles is very apt to listen to on a Monday morning on the way to work which I did today. A song that will help us to sing out our sorrows with pleasure and makes me feel good for some reason.

For me, monday blues usually start by Sunday night itself and extra energy is required to force myself out of bed on a dreaded Monday !!

I like the lyrics of this song - easy, naughty and fun to sing along.

Six o'clock already
I was just in the middle of a dream
I was kissin' Valentino
By a crystal blue Italian stream
But I can't be late
'Cause then I guess I just won't get paid
These are the days
When you wish your bed was already made

It's just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my fun day
I don't have to run a day
It's just another manic Monday

Have to catch an early train
Got to be to work by nine
And if I had an air-o-plane
I still couldn't make it on time
'Cause it takes me so long
Just to figure out what I'm gonna wear
Blame it on the train
But the boss is already there

All of the nights
Why did my lover have to pick last night
To get down
Doesn't it matter
I have to feed both of us
Employment's down
He tells me in his bedroom voice
C'mon honey, let's go make some noise
Time it goes so fast
When you're having fun

Avial fever

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 13:25:00 +0000

It was another mad day at work with mad people. Mentally drained out, I was on my way back from the office and I was listening to the radio. As usual, I was checking out my favourite radio stations when I came across the Rock show at 8pm on Radio Indigo 91.9. Some of my favourite songs were being played back to back. After listening to these and feeling lightheaded, I heard the RJ mentioning what’s up next on his playlist. I was taken aback when I heard that a song from the band Avial would be played next. Wait a minute; this show usually plays English rock songs, right? Felt awesome listening to the 'Nada Nada' song that was played on the radio.

For those who do not know, Avial is a rock band from Trivandrum (Kerala) which has become a household name in the Indian rock music scene for their brand of music. Their songs are essentially based on folk songs and alternative rock and the way they bring in the rock elements to their music is simply brilliant. Their songs are in Malayalam. It is this band that changed my view that Malayalam songs should just stick to the melody genre just like the 80s and early 90s. I had often felt that the nature of the language was such that it could not accommodate elements of pop and Tamil music influence. The Tamil music industry is so versatile and they do a good job of adapting different music genres but that is not the case with the Malayalam music industry. An interesting trend is emerging - rock bands like MotherJane and Avial are part of the OSTs of new Malayalam movies and these songs are well received.

Another surprising observation was my mom's liking towards the songs of Avial. Mummy often referred to rock music as 'Chevy Vedana paattu' (songs that pain the ears!) but when I heard her crooning to one of their songs 'Karukara' one day, I was surprised and asked her - 'Mummy, ithu chevy vendane alle?' (Mummy, isn't this 'ear pain music'?). She told me that she likes folk songs and could grasp the lyrics, unlike the usual rock songs which just seemed to her like a bunch of people screaming (well, that's her way of describing it!!). Of lately she has been crooning to Kolaveri Di but more on that later in another post! :-D

The latest Avial song 'Ayyo' is finally out and has got me excited at the prospect of all Mallus singing loud and clear- 'AYYO' !! :-)

Destiny's assignments

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Tue, 25 Jan 2011 03:59:00 +0000

Every person is destined to do something in life. In other words, each one is destined to complete some assignments in life. Many a time, these assignments more often bring about a change in someone else's life for sure. Probably there are many out there reading this who would react like this -

"Has she gone mad?"
"Which book has she been reading lately?"
"yeah..whatever...".

As a child, I had heard of this idea of destined assignments from random people and would have just nodded my head in agreement. Years pass by and the sceptical thought process takes over and one starts to question facts, traditions, etc. The concept of destiny is something I had often heard from hearsay. After many years, I look back and realise that there is some truth to this. And the beauty of it is, we don't realise when we take up these assignments and when these are completed.

Recently I came across a quote by John Maxwell- “Life is 10% of what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it.” I personally believe that destiny defines the incidents and moments of one's life but the path that life takes totally depends on how we react to these incidents and moments.

I have often sat back and pondered as to why some people come into our lives -

Some people come into our lives and exit as soon as they come in...Some people come into our lives for a considerable time and then vanish before you realise the same...Some people are just always there, whether you like it or not...

In all these cases, believe it or not, each one of them was destined to change our lives in the smallest of ways. The role they play in our lives need not always be good; the memories of them need not be sweet, it can be bitter or maybe a memory that will always leave you with a tingle of sadness. But whatever role they play, they change our lives and many times, it's for the best.

Thoughts about a good experience always bring up a smile on my face; if it is funny then sometimes I laugh out loud thinking about it. This is when people declare I have gone mad. ;-) Whatever the experience, good or bad, there is a lot to learn from these and move on with life. And I believe only this attitude will get us all through the rest of our lives. Life is strange and complicated, especially after school and college; every year after that has its own story to tell. So many years lie ahead for me to figure out the rest of the assignments that people end up completing and in the process bring about a change in my life as well as in the lives of people around me.

‘Roses are red, Violets are blue, I wish I could…’

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 05:28:00 +0000

This was written way back in 2000, my mind boggles at the fact that it has been more than 10 years. If I remember correctly, I had written this when I was in the 11th standard. A couple of years later, I had given this poem to the college magazine. I didn't really expect it to actually make it to the college magazine and yeah, it did but this poem was listed under the section called 'Black Comedy' !! I got no proper explanation for this and very much a cruel joke!

‘Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I wish I could…’

Every day as I walk past the Church,
And step into the lonesome graveyard,
I see your face in the polished gravestone,
A pang of sadness engulfs me.

I place the red roses,
And take away the old ones.
Then I sit next to you,
And talk to you,
Of yesterday’s ventures,
And of ones to come.

Nostalgia is just not the word,
To describe my feelings,
When I sit with you.
To think that the times we had are,
The only memories I have, to cherish all my life.

An hour with you, sadly, is all that I can spare.
But those wild violets,
Blooming nearby,
Will keep you company, day and night.

With a heavy heart, I take leave of you,
Then turn back and whisper to you,
“Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I wish I could,
Forever, be with you.”

Forget me not, Forget me never…

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 05:14:00 +0000

(Written sometime in 2003)

Forget me not,
Forget me never…

Forget me not,
Forget me never,
Those last bitter words,
Whether we meant it or not,
Spoken from the heart or just from the mouth,
We parted in our own different ways.

Forget me not,
Forget me never,
All those promises made,
To keep our sweet memories afresh as ever,
To relive them, I cannot, for the rest of my days.

Forget me not,
Forget me never,
The distance between us kills me,
Nostalgic moments of the past haunt me,
Looks like we have no other choice these days,
Miles apart now, but close at heart, always.

Once upon a time...I hated ENGLISH !!

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Wed, 19 Jan 2011 03:30:00 +0000

(The names of some of the characters in this post have been changed to protect privacy :-) )

One of my colleagues saw my handwriting and exclaimed in surprise, “Aren’t girls supposed to have beautiful handwriting?” The notions that a guy has in his head about girls can be weirdly endless. I didn’t react to that comment as only I knew the story behind my handwriting.

There was a time when the English language was my worst enemy. Little did I know back then, that there is more nastiness left to be experienced in this world than the trivial issues I faced during my school years with the academic subject called English.

I had to change schools after my 2nd grade. The new school was one step ahead in everything is what I felt. All the students had already transitioned into the cursive style of writing. I had just joined the 3rd grade and my handwriting was still more of block or printed writing. Back in my old school, I often used to get a gold star(s) on my notebook from all my teachers for my handwriting. All of that was about to change.

Daisy ma’am appeared to be a sweet class teacher to me at first. She did notice my block writing style and she told me that I can gradually make the transition to cursive writing and that there is no hurry. Like any other 9-year-old kid, I believed her completely.

One fine day, Daisy Ma’am seemed to have had a bad day, either personally or with work. She was snapping at everyone at any error that came her way. She was correcting our notebooks and while doing so, she opened my notebook. I think my handwriting irked her quite a bit and she called out my name and sternly told me that from tomorrow onwards, I had to adopt the cursive writing style. On hearing this, I felt lost for quite a while. As I was at my obedient best in those days, the very next day, I changed the way I wrote English. Frankly, my English began to look like Arabic!! I used to join the letters in any way I could so that they would not look like block writing. And the end result was an absolute disaster. The beautiful handwriting I once had was there no more.

Daisy Ma’am never commented on my change of handwriting and so I thought she was satisfied with what I had done. This change alarmed my mother a lot and she was sad to see the ugly transition. 3rd grade passed by and so did 4th grade. Except for occasional comments from teachers that my handwriting is not legible, I did not bother to change my handwriting and the teachers didn’t seem to care much as long as I had content in what I wrote. I also scored quite decently in the subject.

It was in my 5th grade, that I found the English subject had become a notch tougher than what I had come across so far. My performance started to degrade very gradually and so did my handwriting. To make things worse, my English teacher, Freya Ma’am had an immediate aversion to me or my handwriting – I was not sure. She used to decrease 4 to 5 marks for handwriting alone, that too only for me in class. I felt a wave of discrimination hit me. During that academic year, one of the English exams was tough and I had never expected to fail in the subject. When I got my paper, I realised that I had lost 5 marks for bad handwriting alone!! If I had got those 5 marks, I would have passed the exam easily.

Being the naïve and timid girl that I was back then, it took me a lot of time to muster up the courage to walk up to Freya Ma’am and defend my case. I felt it was unfair for me to lose marks like this as I knew I was not that weak in English, it had to be something else and I knew that my handwriting would be one of the reasons. All she told me was that I had to improve and when I asked how I could go about doing the same, she had no tips to offer me. I felt terribly dejected and a rebel inside me began to grow.

Mummy had to struggle to get me to study English as I thought that there was no use in taking that subject seriously. Vinita who was one of my close friends back then in school shared a few tips on how to write more legibly and that helped me a lot. However, there was no element of beauty in my handwriting. 5th grade passed by somehow but unfortunately, my attitude towards the English subject did not change.

To my disappointment, I discovered that Freya Ma’am yet again was my English teacher in the 6th grade and with that, I concluded that year's academic performance in English. It was during this year (1995) that I joined the school athletic team and was termed as a ‘promising athlete'. I enjoyed that fame a lot that year, surprising and stunning my opponents and friends with my performance. During these days, I often had to miss many classes to spend time to practice for my athletic events during school hours. I used to rejoice whenever I used to miss the English class.

After the summer break, we were informed that Freya Ma’am had resigned and a new teacher was going to take the English class. Although I did heave a sigh of relief, I did not expect much of my interest towards the English language to change. Madhu Ma’am was the new English teacher. She was a very pleasant lady and soon became every student's favourite teacher. Unfortunately, all this did not change my attitude towards learning English.

One day, as usual, after the practice I stepped into an ongoing English class. Madhu ma’am smiled at me and asked, "Maria, how was your practice session today?” I was completely taken by surprise and mumbled “Practice session was good”. For the sake of those people who think I am a chatterbox now, I would like to let you know that back then, I was an introvert and a person of few words.

Also back then, students participating in sports were considered to be poor academic performers. My coach used to tell me that I was an exception in this regard but some teachers expressed subtle dislike towards me because I participated in athletics which left me bewildered many a time. Madhu ma’am and her interest in my extra-curricular activities was heartwarming. I gradually started looking forward to these moments and in turn my attitude towards her subject also gradually changed.

Oral recitation in front of the class had always been a nightmare back then. I could never open up my mouth even to ask a question in class. Madhu ma’am noticed this sort of stage fright that I had and often calmed me down whenever I blanked out in between recitations. A few snickering students used to get me nervous but Madhu ma’am never followed their cue and often gave me a second chance and I used to finish off the recitation somehow and make a run for my seat.

My mother noticed that my marks in English had improved a lot and was very happy to observe this change. But the best was yet to come. The results of the final exam were announced and I scored a whopping 93 which also happened to be the highest score in the entire sixth grade. Two other students also scored the same. Every year the school awards the toppers of every subject in every grade and only one topper in each subject would be awarded. To my joy, I found out that I was selected out of the three who scored the same as I was the only one out of the three who was active in extra-curricular as well as academics.

My mother was stunned beyond words as to how an ‘English’ rebel like me managed to achieve this. The year 1995 was a year of ‘highs’. I am extremely grateful to Madhu ma’am for bringing about a change in my attitude and for proving gracefully that a little ‘Love and Care’ is all that takes to conquer or overcome anything!

Image Courtesy - www.cartoonstock.com

Paavam Britney

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Tue, 30 Nov 2010 18:39:00 +0000

Recently on TV, I saw Britney Spears' first music video - (Hit Me) Baby One More Time. This song was a huge hit back in 1999 and a popular video often viewed at home by me, Anto and mummy. The video reminded me of an almost forgotten memory and reminiscing on the same brought a smile on my face or rather it was more of a giggle.

It was the time Grandma used to stay with us in Cochin. That means we had a different set of ground rules set by Dad to be followed as far as television viewing in her presence was concerned. We were not to watch MTV, Channel V, VH1 or any other English channels which would alarm the elders in the house, with specific reference to Grandma. Of course, this decision was not taken in the event of any instance that had alarmed Grandma in the past; I think it was more like my parents did not want to take the risk of anything happening at all.

One day, I was quickly browsing through the ‘forbidden’ TV channels before Grandma came to the hall when I came across Britney’s music video – Baby One More Time. I watched it for a minute or two and before I realised, Grandma had come and sat in front of the TV. I immediately changed the channel to some black and white Malayalam movie. But she insisted on switching back to what I was watching. Hesitantly, I changed the channel keeping one eye on Mummy who was giving me a look of disapproval. I watched my Grandma’s expressions and reactions. As usual, there was hardly any reaction from her on watching the video. She ended up seeing the video a couple more times during that week and made it quite clear that she did not want to see anything ‘Black and White’ much to my amusement and astonishment of my parents.

By the end of the week, it looked like Grandma didn't mind watching the Britney Spears video any number of times. One day, when the video almost ended, Grandma said, "Paavam kutty aazhcha motham chaadi chaadi vaiyathe aayi!!" which means "Poor girl is tired out with all that jumping all week!!". That statement led to quite a hilarious uproar at home. Grandma and her classic statements!

Have a look at Britney towards the end of the video!! :-D

My love for Cranberries

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Sat, 18 Sep 2010 06:18:00 +0000

The band called The Cranberries is definitely one of the most rocking bands of all time. It is an Irish rock band and is not really active these days except for the world tours and concerts that take place from time to time. They rocked the 90’s.

I was introduced to this band and its music quite late, just like all other bands I have been introduced to. The first song that made me notice the band was the song called ‘Salvation’. I used to hear it on the radio very often. I was in the 5^th grade back then and I had not really started listening to music as I do these days.

Many years later, in college, I came across songs of this band in one of my friend’s collections. I heard the song called ‘Salvation’ and I felt I was going through a flashback. But it’s the other songs that I heard that made me fall in love with the band, especially the song ‘The Animal Instinct’. It is an amazing song and is sort of an anthem for me and Smitha. I remember the endless number of times we used to croon this one together!! Ah…I miss those days!

Some of the other songs that I like –

Zombie
Promises
Ode To My Family - This one is my ringtone when I get a call from Home
Dreams
I Just Shot John Lennon – This one is eerie, especially the bullet shots you hear at the end of the song!!
Just My Imagination – This is a song I love to hear while taking a walk outside.

Last April, I happened to be in Hard Rock café in Bangalore, catching up with some of my friends and celebrating Divs bday. Towards late evening, the DJ started playing some of my favourite songs one of them was Zombie. The song could not have sounded more awesome that night. Before I knew it, I was already singing along with Chinchu and when it ended I wanted to shout out ‘Encore’.

Three years back, thanks to Chinchu, I discovered that the lead singer of this band - Dolores O'Riordan had gone solo. I immediately downloaded all the songs of her solo album - Are You Listening? I like the following songs from this album -

In the Garden
October
Ordinary Day
When we were young

My playlists will always have at least one song from The Cranberries or Dolores O'Riordan and even if I do take a break from listening to these songs, it won't last more than two or three days.

Some people tell me that I am lost in a different era when it comes to music. That's true to some extent, and it's a great era to be lost in!!

Intellectual Writings

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 20:44:00 +0000

It is interesting to ponder over how various individuals perceive certain notions. Anything and everything can be interpreted in more than one way. Scary thought eh? Taking one such example would be how one of my friends called Maggie (don't be fooled by the obvious gender you may perceive on hearing this name!!) perceives writings as 'intellectual'.

According to Maggie, a piece of writing can be classified as 'intellectual' if the person reading it cannot understand what it is trying to express or convey. On hearing this, I certainly did raise an eyebrow in obvious scepticism. My reaction was more like, “Err...What???” So does this mean if I don’t understand something I can declare that I have come across something intellectual? Or would it make more sense that I am stupid or more like a self-declaration that I am a fool?

Many out there think that intellectual writings need to contain a high usage of uncommon and heavy vocabulary and in Maggie’s words, “No one should be able to understand it”. (Very amusing...). If the line of thought just beats around the bush for most of the time, such thoughts can hardly be called ‘intellectual’.

My take on intellectualism or specifically intellectual writings is this –

Intellectual writing is basically content that showcases a unique line of thought; something brand new. Each idea in this line of thought may be common but the actual sequence of ideas that brings about this brand new line of thinking is what makes the author’s content a notch higher than that of others or in other words, this is what can classify a writing as intellectual.

The usage of uncommon and heavy vocabulary does not necessarily mean that the piece of writing is ‘intellectual’. It just showcases the fact that the author has a good vocabulary and nothing more than that. I have come across many individuals who have a very high standard of vocabulary but fail miserably when it comes to conveying simple matters to other people.

Some people feel poems must rhyme which is incorrect. For all who share the same view, check out these links –

Curse by Pablo Neruda
Cousin Nancy by T.S. Elliot
This Living Hand by John Keats
Love by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Poetry often is debatable. There is no set format for it. It is just a different way of expressing ideas, thoughts, feelings, etc. It is a beautiful way of expression and with the right talent, poetry can touch many hearts in so many different ways.

However, for any writing, one must always look out for grammatical errors as well as spelling mistakes. Personally, I hate to see a word misspelt and what irks me more is when I come across a person who does not really care about spelling. Hence it takes me a long time to post something on my blog as I recheck many times before I post something.

Before I end my views on this, a special message for Maggie –

Gone are the Shakespearean days,
But none of those will ever be forgotten,
In these 21^st century days,
Man hardly has time to spare,
To ponder, to wonder,
So say what you want to say,
So clear, so lucid,
Else just fade away...

Image courtesy - The Internet

Sleepless Nights

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Fri, 16 Jul 2010 20:17:00 +0000

This one was written during a sleepless night some years ago.

Sleepless Nights

Lying on my bed,

Ceiling staring at my open eyes,

Lost in the darkness of night,

My sad flutter of eyes,

Alas! No sleep, it’s a sleepless night.

Tears well up,

As sad thoughts sail through my mind,

Faint sounds of the night,

Seems so very loud in my ears, haunting me.

Why me?

Can’t I be left to sink into the deep ocean of sleep?

Worn out body, life so mundane,

Wish I could close my eyes,

And see blackness around me,

Until the morning sun shines down on me.

Hours pass by, not a wink of sleep do I get,

I get up from my bed,

And stand beside the window.

Staring at twinkling stars,

I remember my mother’s words,

“Stars twinkle at night,

To tell you that you are not alone,

If ever a day comes,

When I am not beside you,

Don’t worry my sweet child,

Close your eyes and think of me,

I shall pat you to sleep.

Though I will be far away from you,

Sleepless nights will bring me closer to you.

There is not a single day,

That I wouldn’t watch over you from the heavens.

Your sleepless nights are the nights I shall visit you,

To close your eyes until the light of dawn shines upon you.”

Our Funda for...

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Sun, 11 Jul 2010 10:30:00 +0000

This post goes out to all the 'Bold and Beautiful' Kochi gals like me and Elza. LoL.

It was one of those ‘non-stop’ chatter days when we happened to discuss our adventures of travelling by the infamous private bus transport of Kochi. For those who don’t know much about the private bus transport of Kochi, I can provide you all a little insight regarding this. These are the red colour buses that you would get to see whizzing past you on the Kochi roads. Travelling in one of these is equivalent to having a roller coaster ride and you would have to hold on to your dear life and pray you reach your destination in one piece. These buses have also interesting nameboards on top of it.

We also realized that we had well-toned arms back then when we used to often travel in these buses. On analysis and further discussion, we came up with a funda….our funda for well-toned hands.

While travelling in these time machine kinds of vehicles (where being transported to the future…a.k.a Heaven is a high probability), holding on to the support bars in the bus is an absolute must. Of course, the opposite sex more often conveniently does not think of the same and tips on how to handle these species shall also be revealed in this post. When the bus takes a sharp turn (without slowing down), you need to hold on to that bar refrain your body from aligning to the direction the bus is turning and keep your feet rooted to the floor (footwear with good sole grip is an added advantage). This will not only prevent you from falling onto another person but also result in quite a bit of strain and stress on your arms. This may be uncomfortable to some at first but after a while, you will get used to it. This helps in strength building of your arms and gradually the arms begin to get the ‘toned’ look. Some may even develop ‘musckils’…who knows.

Now, to handle those male ‘species’ that travel in these buses who do not believe in gravity and think that Mother Earth is just like any other planet with no gravity, you need to always carry an umbrella with you. If you think a guy is standing right behind you, who thinks that falling on you is the only way he can contribute space to the rest of mankind in the bus, then hold on to your umbrella and move it swiftly backwards, ensuring you have hit him hard. The risk factor in doing this would be if the guy genuinely lost balance and fell on you, which would mean that you need to get ready with the most ‘innocent’ look ever on your face and utter the word that the Englishmen invented to get away with anything and everything in life – “Sorry”.

Despite the satirical description of my so-called ‘roller coaster’ experience of mine, whenever I look at my slightly flabby arms nowadays, it’s always these red buses that come to my mind and I say to myself, “God’s own city…here I come!”

Blogger's block

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Sun, 30 May 2010 11:35:00 +0000

I am/was going through a 'Blogger's block' phase. I am still not sure whether I am out of it. This post is an attempt to get out of it. This term has been derived from the popular term - Writer's block. I had to change this post title from 'Writer's block' to 'Blogger's block' after receiving some criticism highlighting the fact that I was breaching certain technicalities of existing ideas....sigh.

For those who don't know what exactly is 'Writer's block' can have a look at this link - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Writer's_block

I hate whenever this happens and the last time this happened brought an end to my so-called poetry (which some may be quite relieved to hear or discover :-D ) and also a temporary end to my posts that tickle the bone. Is it because I am going through a very dry phase in life? Maybe, but there are lots of things happening yet I am unable to put it across in words. I also have a couple of posts as drafts, hopefully, I will publish them soon.

I don’t have much more to comment on this, just hoping that I get the inspiration and motivation to write my heart out and get to hear comments and opinions from my friends and other blogger friends.

Today was a nice Sunday, cleaned the house, had biriyani for lunch, and lazed in my room with the AC in full blast. I sit by the window and log on to my laptop to type out this post with the sunlight falling gently on my face, I feel good. (yeah...a desperate attempt...I know)

One of those days

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 19:02:00 +0000

This was a poem that I had written two and a half years back. I composed this one during office hours. I was caught red-handed by my Project Lead and that's how he and the rest of my team discovered that I liked to write. I remember I was quite embarrassed when this one was circulated to the rest of the team.

(Dated: 20/09/2007)

One of those days

Feelin so high,

Face plastered with a smile,

Just one of those days,

I feel things are going my way.

Sun rays gently caress my face,

Feels like it's one of those days,

When Daddy would pat on my head,

For everything that I do today.

People ask the reason as to why,

I am glowing like a newlywed bride,

I guess it's just one of those days,

When things are going right,

Things are going my way.

I walk at a pace,

Sounds like the rhythm of dancing feet,

What can be the source of my happiness?

It's just another brand new day,

My smile convinces me that sure,

It's definitely, one of those days.

'J', 'K' and 'L' …

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 10:08:00 +0000

I guess the response is finally here to all those who have uttered the words 'Howzzatt' whenever my phone used to meet its destiny with the floor. Last weekend my phone had two terrible falls out after the first one, my phone got unconscious (switched off) and then regained consciousness a few minutes later (switched back on again). Very human, don't you think?

I heaved a sigh of relief when it got switched back on and all seemed well. Later that day, I wanted to urgently text my friend, “Busy rite now...wi ca you bac”. Wondering if some alphabets are missing?? Yep... the key on my phone for the 'J', 'K' and 'L' alphabets, number 5, etc has died.

These days I try to come up with synonyms for those words which have either 'J', 'K' or 'L' in them which is just not easy.

On many occasions, I am beginning to realise the importance of these letters....

Friend msgs: “Happy Holi....”

English Department of my Brain at work (EDB): Happy Holi.....will call up later (damn that key!!!)

My msg: Same to you!

Friend msgs: 'Have you read the book “Under the Greenwood Tree”? Finished just today...

EDB: Nope. I am now reading My Name Is Red by Orhan Pamuk (Grrr....that key...)

My msg: Nope. I am now reading My Name Is Red by Orhan (yeah...like he is my cousin or someone )

Colleague: “Hey...what's Jake's number?”

Me: “Just a minute....”. “Oh great...now I have to start scrolling from 'I' onwards to reach J”

Me: What is Salma's number?

Friend: 3426567

Me: Great...I can't dial this number from my phone... (smoke coming out of my head)

One of my friends suggested using the capital letter I as the small letter L because they both look exactly the same. That discovery was a bit of a relief actually. Hope I am making some sense.

For a person like me whose life revolves around sending msgs to people and not calling them up, this has turned out to be a disaster of sorts. I can very well go to a mobile repair shop but I am definitely not looking forward to hearing from them, “Ma'am, why don't you think of getting a new phone?”.

Before you go…

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 19:49:00 +0000

After more than a year, I browsed through some of the stuff that I had written and kept as draft versions. I realised I had lots kept in drafts, many of them long forgotten. I decided I would post them one by one.

For starters, I thought I would post the below which I had written 6 years back !!!
I don't even remember what inspired me to write this.

(Dated: 10/4/2004)

Before you go

To express my feelings to you or anyone,

Something nature has not given me,

Sadly when I want to, I realise, I’m late,

Spoken feelings are few; unspoken, so many.

Occasions come and go,

But not a word from me though,

Years pass by,

But I haven’t told you so,

You are the special occupant of my heart,

Living in the softest corner I own.

Friendship and love,

Endangered or extinct that they may seem,

You made me see, that they still exist, in you & me.

Dear one, you know me and I know you,

Of all the troubles I caused you,

You’ve never turned your back on me.

Never do I remember doing a favour,

In return for the ones you have favoured me.

Now I see you lying on death’s bed,

With pangs of sadness and teary eyes,

This poem I am writing to let you know,

‘Before you go, let me hold your hand,

Look into my eyes & vow me that,

You will find a place for us to be,

In Heaven, where they shall be,

Don’t have to wait too long for me,

‘Cause I can’t live on my own, without you beside me.’

The Last One

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 19:46:00 +0000

This one was written in 2006. It was a year of farewells. This is the year I graduated from college. All those I had known for the past 4 years were going to leave town to fulfil their dreams of higher studies or join their dream companies. For personal reasons, I had to stay back at home for a while before I could enter the next phase of my life.

(Dated: Sep 2006)

The Last One

In my lifetime so far,

I have met many,

That has touched my heart,

In ways I cannot contemplate,

Every phase of life,

Comes a time to say goodbye,

I would be there always,

To bid farewell, to my loved ones.

Somehow, I am the last one,

To leave my destination,

I turn back, I see no one,

To say goodbye,

Everyone has left before me,

Always the last one,

All that is left is to say farewell,

To the trees and fields,

Whose silence comforts me when I am alone.

Lost and Found - Screws

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 18:48:00 +0000

One of the few things I have learnt at my workplace is never to tell your colleague that work is getting on your nerves and the fact that you are losing your screws because of it. You cannot imagine to what extent your colleague would go all out to solve your problem. Obviously, I learnt this lesson after actually experiencing the same.

It was just like any other day at work, where my volatile memory was working at its best and I uttered the same to my colleague and blamed it on the work pressure. Unfortunately, I also told him that all this was causing me to lose a couple of screws. :-D

After saying so, the next day, when I arrived at my desk, I noticed a shiny metal object placed right next to the keyboard. Believe it or not, it was a gleaming screw!!!

I was not very sure how to react. I walked to my colleague's desk and gave a questioning look (I tried to raise one eyebrow but yet again I failed). And all I got back was a cheeky smile from him and I saw a lot more similar screws on his desk.

I went back to my desk, quite amused. I am just glad that the screw was a shiny one and not some rusty old one. :-D

Have a look at the screw for yourself...

When hatred turns into something sweet...

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 07:30:00 +0000

It takes only a matter of seconds to hate someone if he/she does something really horrible that you wouldn't be able to forget during this lifetime. But to finally like someone who you used to dislike/hate at some point in time in the past is something that happens rarely and when it happens, you begin to believe in miracles!!

For me, I have come across three such people so far who I used to hate at some point in the past but later on developed a liking for the person gradually, for some it took months for this transformation to take place and for some, it took years.

For obvious reasons, I would like to refer to these three sweet people as Nutty, Sanity and Abacus. Crazy as these names may sound but I do not want to reveal the real names for now.

When I met Nutty...

The first time I spoke to Nutty, she appeared quite arrogant to me. I developed an almost instant dislike for her. Her friend Merry was a friendly one and hence we bonded quite well. However, I had to tolerate Nutty for quite a while because she used to tag along and I could not think of giving her the 'get lost' treatment as Nutty and Merry have known each other for many years. Gradually, Nutty began to change. I do not know the exact cause for this, whether it had to do with people around her or was the influence of the rather new country and environment she just got into. Nutty and Merry landed in one of the 'Gelf' countries. So probably her character that caused dislike for me was just the typical NRI arrogance which just needed time to melt down. I never really could foresee at what level we could bond but later discovered that our love for a rare kind of sarcasm as well as academics had ultimately led us to becoming good friends. She is now happily married and has a cute kid.

When I met Sanity...

The first time I spoke to Sanity was over the phone in the office. As it was an official call, I meant pure business and did not intend to indulge in casual conversation. However, he succeeded in diverting the conversation from business to personal and this put me on 'red alert'. My first impression of him was not so good because unfortunately, I had the tendency to look upon men with a stern eye especially those from the town he hailed from. He appeared to me as one of those who unintentionally flirted to get more personal information. Well, I wasn't giving him any info right away. The problem with looking at a guy with a stern eye is that one sometimes tends to become blind as to whether the guy is really flirting or just being friendly. Some guys and even gals just don't know the difference. I am not sure which category Sanity fits in.

Sanity belonged to a rival team at my workplace and little did I know back then that I would have to deal with him head-on, on many occasions. He knew I was a junior, experience-wise, and I felt he had this 'ragging' tendency in him. Hence I appeared to him as cold and unapproachable and later on, matters between us turned into a mild or subtle cold war situation.

Many a time, Sanity would help me out when I needed information on certain matters after a couple of earnest requests and his behaviour and mannerisms would then make me think that this guy is not so bad after all. Unfortunately, that impression never used to last long as something else would happen which would make me revert back to the not-so-good impression I have of him. One evening, as I was leaving the office, someone called out to me to wait. I turned around and saw it was Sanity. By then we had developed this strange friendship where we could blurt out anything to each other at any point in time. I responded back saying, “I am not waiting.”, with a cheeky smile. He soon caught up with me and we began to talk about almost everything under the sun other than work. What impressed me was that he did not mix work and personal life, well at least, it seemed that way. The previous day both of our teams had to exchange emails that had hints of criticism which yet again created the Cold War situation. But there was no hint of dislike in the way he talked to me when we walked back home. Slowly, I began to realise that Sanity never had anything against me. He was always just doing his job and he being in the rival team had to take a stance that often appeared to be against me. In fact, when I look back at some of the office issues that happened between us, I realise that indirectly he sort of prevented me from getting into bigger trouble but I was blind not to see that. Unofficially, he had helped me many times when I needed help. Sadly, due to both of our hectic schedules, we hardly got a chance to know each other well. The good thing is, that we do chat once in a blue moon thanks to Facebook.

When I met Abacus...

I have known Abacus for close to 3 years now. Our friendship had gone through a like-dislike-like mode. From the moment I developed a dislike for him, I never thought I would ever be friends with him again. However, I had to maintain neutral relations with him as I knew I may have to interact with him in future for official reasons. In these 3 years, there were 7-8 months where we didn't interact with each other as work took us both to different destinations. But he did keep in touch through email occasionally which took me by surprise initially. All the emails were very casual and short. Nothing too much was talked about and nothing personal was revealed. But whenever his email used to pop into my inbox, it made me happy that he still remembers me for whatever reason.

I did not expect him to change when I met him 8 months later. I still maintained a safe distance so that things did not turn sour between us. However, I realised he had changed or rather he has become more mature in his thoughts and words. He has become a very pleasing person, pretty much the Abacus I knew of initially, maybe even better. But it still took time for me to accept this change in him. I think since we both got involved in very hectic work schedules and had experienced enough of office politics, we had become more tolerant of each other. Now he is one of my close friends at my workplace for the most obvious reasons. Irrespective of whatever may have happened between us in these years, I realised much later that he has been one of the very few who has been a witness to the ups and downs I have gone through in the past 3 years both at my workplace and personal life and by now very well know how I tend to react to a situation. It is a relief to talk to him about office politics and personal problems because he already is aware of its history. I am going through one of the toughest phases of my life now and the mental support that Abacus gives me intentionally or unintentionally is something I need and is a gesture that I will always remember.

Image Courtesy: The Internet

My first Slam Book

noreply@blogger.com (Maria John) — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 17:24:00 +0000

Having a slam book, especially during farewell occasions was definitely a craze during my school days. It was definitely one of those things that everyone had just because every other person had a slam book. Quite infectious these 'craze' stuff can be.

I recently came across one of my so-called 'slam books'. It was the first one that I had. This was the one I had when my 6th grade was coming to an end. Now why I had a slam book back in 6th grade is a question to which I do not have an answer but all I can assure is that I blindly followed the ‘craze’ because of my peers who were aping our seniors. Sigh…kids!! It was an age where one would have absolutely no idea that there were so many farewells in future waiting to take place, some for the best, some rather painful. The slam book was in the shape of a pink teddy bear which had a pink bow on its head. The name of the teddy bear was Bonnie. Looking at it after so many years really amused me but the contents of the book amused me even more!! While reading some of them, I almost said to myself, “OMG!!’

Some of the entries (uncensored):

My Monkey Maria

Drink hot coffee

Drink hot tea

Burn your lips
And remember Me

Dear Maria

Don’t run behind boys, it is a bad thing. Instead, what should you do is make them run behind you. (Besides you are very beautiful to make them run after you)

Dearest Maria (Dad’s Dummiest Daughter)

We all sat on the grass,

The greenest we could find,

But you sat on something,

The cows left behind.

I saw you in the ocean,

I saw you in the sea,

I saw you in the bathtub,
Oops…excuse me!!

Dearest Maria

Carry Cute Children

Have Hundred Handsome Husbands

May luck always be with you

Dearest Maria

Bees love honey

Kings love money

But I love you
Because you are so…..funny!

Dear Maria

Life is like an ice cream, enjoy it before it melts!

Dear Maria

Deep in a valley,

Carved on a rock,

Three little words
“Forget me Not”

Dearest Maria

Roses are Red

Violets are blue

Sugar is sweet
And so are you.

I remember most of the people who wrote the above entries. Silly but sweet!! Those were the carefree days, one hardly knew what was in store for the future.