ON MY BIRTHDAY WITH MUSIC COMPOSER STEPHEN KOSHY SIR

I remember an uncle on every birthday of mine. His  was Mr.George. For the several years that we were staying in the Railway Quarters in North Chennai, he was our neighbour. He was my mathematics Guru, the shoulder I would always lean onto when I had all those crazy doubts to be cleared. Birthdays were not celebrated at our home as we would see it as any other normal day, but uncle would come home with a cake for me and that's how I got to experience cake cutting. Of course, but for the cake, Appa would get me something for the birthday.

Once I got married, my wife brought it birthday celebrations as a standard practice.  So we had this happening in our home especially because my daughter was around and it was a feeling of joy with every celebration that we could come up with. 

All through these sessions I had not mastered the art of cutting the cake and facing the people around who were singing for me, because all I had around me was my family and an additional person in Uncle George for the first few years while I was at school.

Last year too on my birthday, like as in any other year,  I had wanted to make it a very private affair. There was an important music session that had been planned by my music band leader on the same evening and I could not avoid it.

The eminent Christian music composer had flown down to Chennai for an exclusive session with our band Dhwani.  So I went there. But to my surprise, my band mates had spotted my birthday date and had planned out everything for my birthday celebration.

I think I fumbled in many things on that day, but since it was so natural it became part of the many reasons for laughter that evening. I started cutting the cake before blowing out the candles and I really did not know what to do with the first piece that I had cut and taken out :)

But what I relish when I look back is the blessing to have had an eminent music composer singing the birthday song for me. 

SPECIALLY SCRIBBLED FOR KAPIL PAAJI AND HIS DEVILS

June 25, 1983 is a special day for Indian cricket when our team, a pack of underdogs, overthrew the Windies, for the first time from their throne.

CRICKET WORLD CUP 2019 - ON THE AFGHANISTAN ENCOUNTER

CRICKET STORIES - WHEN DAD GOT HOOKED ONTO THE SPORTS PAGE FOR AN UNUSUALLY LONG TIME

Every June 19th brings the same memory with the same intensity in me, even after 36 years. It was the morning of June 19th, 1983. I heard Dad’s call “Your coffee is on the table Roy”. I headed for the coffee with THE HINDU newspaper in my hand, but after making sure it was closed. This was because, Dad was of the impression that the sports page was the first page I opened and many times, the only page I read in a newspaper. I went to a far corner in the balcony and opened the sports page. On the road outside, as was the case of any other day, I could hear the flower vendor belting out the names in her collection and the strange whining sound of the salt vendor’s cycle as he made his way through the street. The sound of the brooms in action, by the women in the neighbouring homes, also mixed with these sounds and formed a nice piece of bearable discord. 

I knew Dad would soon ask for the news paper and I thought I should give a quick glance first. The morning winds danced through the sheets of the newspaper while they also created the beautiful rustle in the leaves of the tree that stood adjacent to our home. When I opened the sports page, I was stunned to see a picture of Kapil Dev that adorned the full length of one half of a page, from header to footer. This was the first time I was seeing such a big picture in a newspaper and I could even see the mud that dressed the pads and shoes of Kapil Dev as he was taking a shot. The picture was that big. “Where’s the newspaper?”, came Dad’s call and I rushed inside and gave the newspaper to him.

That morning I saw Dad spend an unusually long time on the sports page. He was indeed a cricket enthusiast and he followed the game that time on the radio, but on the newspaper, sports was usually his last priority. But that day I saw him spend a long time on the sports page. Something unbelievable had happened the previous day. Something that was like a miracle of destiny. Kapil Paaji had come in at 9 for 4 when the chips were down and had lit up Turnbridge Wells with his blitzkrieg of 175 not out and saw India through that game of the 1983 World Cup Cricket with Zimbabwe, in spite of their top class fielding. Till then, I only had a very vague idea of the World Cup and I was not even interested in knowing India's progress on this big stage.

No wonder THE HINDU had dedicated such a big picture for him. Kapil Paaji is still seen as a miraculous hero. Only a select few like him could use a bat like a magic wand.

LEAF SHEDDING IN A DAY

This tree is part of our home.The beauty of its creation is the leaf shedding that happens once in a year in just a day. What you see hanging there with a tenuous hold after all the leaves have gone is a crow's nest. Every time this happens, we and our neighbouring house, share the burden of clearing up the huge pile of leaves. 

This phenomenon is a part of the Ginkgo biloba tree, although am not sure if our tree is this one. In a day or two, the tree would be back with all its green best.

Bare trees have something powerful in them when coupled along with soul stirring background music to convey scenes of deep sorrow and anguish. Great movie directors use them to portray such scenes of high intensity.

The impact seems to be much more when we see it in black and white.

It also struck me that many times, an unlearning in life, helps us tremendously. It helps to push out all our understanding, our mindsets and our judgments and start looking at the world again with fresh perspectives.

PARENTING TIMES - FUNNY TWISTS-2 - TANTRUMS

Last weekend, I had the opportunity to visit my friend along with my wife. He had been calling me for a while to discuss some topics of common interest and so I found time for this, keeping aside my other weekend occupations. It was a good feeling to meet his family and his old parents. My wife had found time to talk to my friend’s wife after a long time, although they were school mates. I spent some time discussing our topics, one to one with my friend and then spent the rest talking to his father. My friend’s sister was there too along with her two sons. They had come down from Delhi to spend their holidays here. I shook hands with the boys and gave them warm hugs.

Both my friend and I were talking softly as we would do unless something put us into a tight spot. His father too was a soft spoken soul. I could hear the voices of the women talking. They were certainly much louder than the men but it sounded fine. But a few sounds were not bearable and were almost getting on my nerves more because I often found it difficult to remain calm in a noisy environment. There was a construction in process on the opposite side of the house and the abrasive metal grinding wheel was giving out its own distinct fired up cry. Two black ravens on a tree close to the window where we sat were desperately cawing taking turns as though practicing for a church cantata.  A mobile tomato vendor found the tree next to  the house window, a nice place to halt and sell his stuff, while his announcing system was dishing out repeatedly “Grab your tomatoes for a good price”. And if all this was not enough, the two little boys, my friend’s nephews, were creating a ruckus while grabbing and chasing each other while running around in the hall, all through spaces between the furniture and between where we sat.

I wanted to tell them to stay quiet as the overall cacophony was getting unbearable. My wife looked at me once a while with a smile, as she knew how I would take this. But the people at home were trying their best I think, although it appeared to me that there was not much they could do. “Hey devils, can u keep quiet?” was what I heard their mother shouting. Every person there took turns to give a rap on the backs of the boys as they ran past them. This was now becoming continuous and to me the family members appeared like a set of IPL cricket batsmen, swinging on all sides trying out different shots. Sometimes the raps were loud, but to me it seemed that all these were just giving them more energy for what they were doing. “It’s ok, children are like that always”, I politely compensated as a guest with a dash of love.

Moments later, I also thought that I should contribute to the chiding.  But how could I? So I smiled and waved to one of the boys and he immediately stopped running and froze, possibly because he never thought that I would wave at him while the others were dishing out punishments. I took aim at him with my palm as though it was a pistol and then shook it once as though to communicate that I had shot him. He was quick and played the cricketing cut shot on the invisible bullet that came to him. And where did the bullet go now? Straight on to his grandpa sitting on his right. The boy was smart and after seeing the invisible bullet hit his grandpa, he quickly turned to me and bought up his right palm and covered his mouth in exclamation and looked at me :))

Now that communication was a question to me “Hey, you know what you have done?” :))

You may also be interested in similar posts listed below:

https://cherryspace.blogspot.com/2019/02/parenting-times-funny-twists.html

FOR MY BOOKS, PLEASE VISIT THE LINKS BELOW (FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED):

POEMS OF LOST LOVE

Poetry book 'INDELIBLE ETERNAL ETCHINGS':

https://www.amazon.in/INDELIBLE-ETERNAL-ETCHINGS-emotions-unbridled-ebook/dp/B072J4L656/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=indelible+eternal+etchings&qid=1583428166&sr=8-1

https://www.amazon.com/INDELIBLE-ETERNAL-ETCHINGS-emotions-unbridled-ebook/dp/B072J4L656/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=indelible+eternal+etchings&qid=1583428402&sr=8-1

STORIES

Short Story book 'A PEARL FROM EVERY OYSTER':

https://notionpress.com/read/a-pearl-from-every-oyster

https://www.amazon.in/Pearl-Every-Oyster-Stories-Shorter/dp/1948473151/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3GI23X9JIKQGK&keywords=a+pearl+from+every+oyster&qid=1583428674&sprefix=A+Pearl+from%2Caps%2C302&sr=8-1

https://www.amazon.com/Pearl-Every-Oyster-Stories-Shorter-ebook/dp/B07948GRVC/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1H9GU3Q8JNH29&keywords=a+pearl+from+every+oyster&qid=1583428722&sprefix=a+pearl+from+ev%2Caps%2C363&sr=8-1

For other countries, please visit the respective Amazon sites.

THE HERO ON A BISON WHO GRACED THE SKY- DEDICATED TO OUR HERO ABHINANDAN

A few men go through tiny but significant moments in their life that leave a big impact on history and on the millons around. Abhinandan Varthaman, the hero whose valour cannot be described in a few words - this poem of mine is my humble dedication for his verve, poise and gallantry.