Sweet Revenge

Everything was absolutely in place and customary when she got up early in the morning.She switched off the alarm, carefully removed her husband’s arms entwined around her and headed off to kitchen .
She liked everything normal and habitual that followed a preset pattern. Having to do things differently caused her irritation and she loved her robotic life. Even going out and having fun followed a time table which they did on Saturdays .It was always a movie, random shopping and lunch.Once in a while she would do things unplanned and chaotic.
On such occasions she would be restless tills she falls back on track. Even though she was aware of this she didn’t find anything strange in her behaviour and her husband never complained.

As usual she was in her comfort zone,cooking and the next agenda in her timetable was to keep the kitchen waste outside .She did it promptly and went to the balcony to collect another waste disposal bag .Then and there the trouble erupted.Her husband had not placed his shoes on the shoe rack where it was meant to be.It was on the floor with the soiled socks strewn around .She hated having to touch another person’s soiled socks even if that another person was her husband.Now seeing the balcony in a disarrayed manner ,she felt irritation welling within her like a volcano waiting to erupt.

Now this would remain within her for days ,intensifying every day due to some things or other out of place ,like a wet towel on the bed, unfolded blanket, dirty linen outside the laundry bag…..Then it would erupt and she would let her anger flow, careful that the lava doesn’t cause any harm to anything or anyone nearby.What she would be thinking of, will be leaving her husband and staying alone not having anyone to bother about or anyone to disrupt her picture perfect life.She would pour out her anger in all those conversations that happened in her head, words which would wring his heart, which she would otherwise dare not utter. Then she would feel remorse for even having those thoughts.This would calm her down .She would drown her husband in her love for the next few days till it happened all over again.

Today ,having had to face this soiled socks and strewn shoes early morning itself, she felt miserable.
“How many times have I told him not to leave the shoes and socks around…? I need to put an end to it. “
She first thought of flinging them out of the balcony, then thought of hiding them .
As she kept concoting her devious plans and thought, she felt her not so good alter ego gaining control .She was aware of it but for once she let it overpower her.

Her husband got up at 6 a.m ,came to the kitchen to give and take the good morning hug and sat with the news paper and his coffee .Her plan was to spill little water on the marble floor near the bathroom .She expected him to slip and fall ,thus taking her sweet revenge for spoiling her day. He finished his coffee and headed for his bath .She was in the kitchen listening for the thud sound and her husband calling out for her .Thud sound she heard and then silence.
Minutes passed and she failed to hear the groaning as she expected. Her wicked state of mind gave way to alarm and she flew to their bedroom .There he lay, motionless, blood trickling on the white floor ,behind his head.She kneeled down beside him and shook him calling his name again and again. This wasn’t what she expected.She did not imagine him to hit his head on the sharp corner of the bed, or for him to lay still like the way he was lying now.
“ No ,No..Oh God ,No…” She screamed…

“Stop it …wake up…” It was her husband shaking her .She opened her eyes, realizing what she had gone through, was just a dream.
“ Were you having a nightmare? It’s 5:30 .Aren’t to going to work today.?” he asked.
She heaved a sigh of relief and said,”No,I am taking a day off. Let’s spend a day together.What say ? ..”
“ You are a very wicked woman ,” he said smiling.

Life With Phinnaeus

Life with Phinnaeus is eventful ,always expect the unexpected .He is two and half years old and trouble is his middle name.
Dalton John Junior,his Papa, never bends his knees before anyone .But Little Phinnu has his Papa twisted around his little fingers and crawling for deliverance and mercy.
Phinnu needs to be dropped at his crèche at 8.30 am .He wakes up around 6 and I have to leave by 7.30 a.m .Yesterday morning as usual he got up ,had his morning bowl of cereals .I was about to leave and he suddenly felt like having his favourite fried sausages.He settled for his Papa making those for him since I had to leave.His Papa got ready with his aprons and frying pan giving me I will –handle –it –don’t –you –worry look and his little assistant Phinnu on the kitchen platform supervising.Phinnu loves to watch me cooking and he always gives me company handing me the spices from the cabinet.
Everything started off just fine .He instructed how to chop the sausages just the perfect round
size for his fork.The sausages started sizzling and his Papap was about to take them out when Phinnu said
“ Not like that …mama puts this …” and smartly handed over turmeric powder first.My husband got puzzled but eventually he had to add chilly powder, cumin seeds ,thyme and little tomato sauce.Phinnu appreciaited his Papa’s handiwork ,took a bite “Dirty..you eat “ that was his verdict and his Papa had to savour the whole sausage bits.
Well ,I am sure he would never try his hand at cooking for Phinnu ever again.

Fathers day

If tomorrow never comes…by Ronan Keating is one of my favourite songs.It says…. if tomorrow never comes ,will she know how much I love her..
Lately on Fathers Day I made my son tell his Papa how much he means to him.He wrote down his thoughts and this is how it came ..


THIS IS YOUR DAY PAPA, FATHERS DAY
I WISH TO TELL, YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME
OUR MOCK FIGHTS AND ELEPHANT RIDES
YOU TAUGHT ME TENNIS, TOOK ME TO MOVIES
YOU TAUGHT ME TO BE ON MY OWN
PRESS MY CLOTHES, POLISH MY SHOES
AND ALSO TIE MY SHOELACE
LATELY, WHEN I BROKE MY GLASSES BEING THE GOAL KEEPER,
YOU GAVE ME TIPS TO GUARD MY PEEPS AND SAVE A GOAL
EVERYDAY I LEARN FROM YOU
SOMEDAY I WANT TO BE LIKE YOU
YOU ARE MY HERO
HAPPY FATHERS DAY
It brought tears to his Papas eyes and mine too when I saw the pair of them ..father and son in a tight embrace.
My son recited it in his school assembly and his rendition was so poignant that he made each and every one of the children remember their fathers for a moment.Later a kid from std Iv was found weeping thinking of his father whom he never got to know.
It is never late to let anyone whom you love know how much you love them and how much they mean to you.Or when you lose them that thought is going to wring your heart for ever.
So go ahead do it right now…

Raindrops are falling.....

Rain ..at last.I stood at the balconywith my eyes closed and let the spray caress my face.(I would have preferred standing outside but discretion got the better of me ..the thought of the strange spectacle I would make with my arms outstretched and eyes closed…)
There isn’t anything I love much as the first shower of monsoon.It is one of the moments that invokes all the senses..a moment of heightened ecstasy.The musky scent of the damp earth,the taste of the raindrops that trickle down to the corner of your mouth,the pealing laughter of the raindrops on the rough ground and the touch of the rain on your skin….
Rain makes me sing all the those lovely songs that I can remember.
It had been always like that.The three of us-me and my sisters we used to place ourselves near the window and used to sing loudly ,the rain playing the background score.I feel nostalgic.
I took my boys along with me to feel the rain and I believe they must have enjoyed it too in their own way as much as I did.
Who wouldn’t?Which living soul can resist the magic of rain when she is in her gentle glory and not her ravaging vengeant self.
I say guys enjoy the monsoon,every drop of it.

Something about a Smile

A smile ,born from the lips of a child ,a feathery touch that would melt your heart,a toothless grin that lets your spirit soar,a pealing laughter, like light shower ona barren land.
A smile, gracing the lips of a lovely woman,entincing,that evinces beauty,conveys assurance,signals romance.
A smile that proclaims triumph.
A smile that flashes fulfillment.
A smile that blooms on seeing someone you love.
A smile that you fake for someone you don’t really care about.
A smile or a laughter that assays a joke.
A smile, lecherous, pronouncing indecent thoughts
A smile, sheepish, when your secret is unraveled.
A smile,lopsided,from someone teasing you.
A smile secretive,on recollecting some private joke.
A smile ,awkward ,after an embarrassing moment.
A smile, meaningful,that says I know something about you.

A smile can be all this and much more than that.

Back to Where I belong

My life has entered yet another phase.After a sabbatical of two years ,I will be resuming my role as a teacher from the first of April.
I donned the mantle of a teacher on account of my dad.I had a very strong inclination towards literature but my dad wanted me to pursue science.I had to opt from Physics and Chemistry and I chose the latter.I didn’t have any particular like or dislike for the subject till I reached the final year of my graduation

Pro:.K.C Mani ,I would speak of him as the best teacher that I ever had.I wouldn’t realize how the other wise annoying one hour lecture would zoom away while he used to be on the elevated platform.Earlier my library visits were only for reading novels and then I found myself devouring references on Chemical Equilibrium and Le Chateliers Principle.Chemistry is supposed to be a volatile subject but whatever I learned under his guidance is still imprinted in my brain in bold alphabets . Still my life was without a definite goal.

It was Prof :John Kuruvilla who revealed the wonderful world of Forensic Science.He was my class teacher and taught us Organic Chemistry.I marvelled his capability to recollect the numerous name reactions which I still find untenable.I pursued Analytical Chemistry for my Post Graduation ,aspiring to be a Forensic Analyst.But my dad didn’t consider it as the right career choice for a girl and in the end I had to bury my dreams and go in for a Bachelor of Education degree.

It was like an arranged marriage .It took two years for me to fall in love with teaching. I cherish many proud moments in my seven years as a teacher.Each time I succeed in passing on a difficult and confusing concept it gives an unexplainable joy.I would compare it to what a mother feels when she perceives the face of her new born after the travails of birth she had gone through.

I love being a teacher. I believe a teacher can make or break the future of a child.There is this particular moment from the movie ‘ Mr Holland’s Opus ‘ which would be the dream of every teacher.On the day of retirement,standing before all those students whom you have influenced and guided to become a somebody in their lives.
And that is my dream too.

The Three Men In My Life

I live with three men. Before you raise your eyebrows let me tell you my relationship with them. I am married to one and the rest two are the fruits of my womb, my handsome children.
Well, living with them is a rollercoaster ride. Do I love it? It is quite an adventure that I didn’t bargain for .Mostly delightful but there are times when I have thrown up my arms in desperation and have threatened to run away from home.
I don’t have words which would sketch them perfectly, but a hybrid of three musketeers and three meddlers would be apt for the time being.
They are mirror images of each other and I blame it on my recessive genes .Looks, likes dislikes, tastes and even certain gestures, all declares the Veliparamban lineage.
The one advantage of living with these men is that I get pampered occasionally and that includes foot massages, bone crushing bear hugs,and kisses which would sometimes leave on my face traces of saliva that I wipe off with their own T-shirts.It is quite flattering actually and I admit that it is one of those moments when my heart skips so many beats and I thank Almighty for the three blessings that he has showered on me.

Sometimes they go into a lazy mode and make me feel like a servant-cum –slave..That is when I isuue my threats of running away .But they cry in unison ,”No !!!!!!! we will find you out and stand below your window and cry and howl till you agree to come back..”
They know how to make me smile, afterall I cannot feign anger when I see three pairs of besseching eyes in which I can still behold all those mischiefs that is in stock for me.

The bottom line is benefits of having these men in my life overrules all drawbacks that might co-exist.
I love adventures..