I love kids Part- I

Some television star kids ...i really love them ...

FIRST TO IMPRESS or DEPRESS ?!?

One observation that makes me pen down something like this:
Everyone is quick to pass on a judgment on another, they might have just met…

Infact why blame them ? Philosophers itself have preached it as
FIRST IMPRESSION IS THE LAST IMPRESSION..

So are those who are perceiving or the ones who are making the impression taking this or saying this too seriously?

The first time I met this man..i was super impressed, by the way he looked to the way he spoke to the way he treated me or anyone around….
I even ranted about him to the closest people .For me if I looked at marriage ..id marry a guy like him ,quite seriously
Then I met a woman. The first time I saw her ,thought she was a bitch …loud , brazen and acted like the place we were at was all so tacky and down market…
I failed to see beyond that, for the following few days of meeting her, because probably what played on my mind was that first impressions are to be last impressions.
These were just two people im talking about but there is a whole lot of population that is being judged every other day by a lot of people, without even giving them a chance to justify or show their real self . Words about them are passed around “without verification”….
From the write up until now ,it could be anyone’s guess that what I thought of the particular mentioned guys was completely the opposite…
It is a possibility that I may be a wrong judge of people. But Id also just like to say that “we really and seriously need to learn to give people around us a second chance”….
Some people are not as rude as they appear, or sweet as they appear or professional as they appear….
One of my friends appears to be horrible, like literally. He has the scariest voice, a body language with immense attitude. He even appears insensitive when it comes to expressing his emotions. If u fell he’d laugh rather than help or if u felt hurt about something he’d NEVER EVER pacify .He also is brutally honest and in your face which makes one wonder if he had a heart at all?
Insensitive, shameless selfish were his first names I thought, but eventually realised his true self was something else and one needs to put efforts to understand him because he just NEVER EXPRESSED…..the truth is he is the most sensitive and caring person iv ever met…
How can one forget the never ending comparison of a Betty and a Veronica….
Whoever said a simply dressed girl was simple and sweet and caring and most importantly homely…BULL to the reverse infact that A veronica category or rather girls dressed fashionably are assumed to not know kitchen management or not be caring towards their spouse or more so are assumed to be loaded with attitude and be mean girls..
Well I went by what the world said and again when I gave those girls a chance ,discovered that a few simple dressed girls were always gossiping and bitching ,while the babe kinds were actually, quite sensitive. And yes some of them also knew to cook also…
Well again cant generalize…but all ive learnt is to stop judging and start making an effort to understand the real people behind these garbs…
If not understand atleast be patient and stop spreading any word (wrong or right) about a person …atleast until it is confirmed to you yourself!
Best is to take people as they come and keep your head non calculative….
Iv tried it and it succeeds in adding happy moments to your life.
But yes you need to adapt to one of the monkeys among the three who keeps their ears shut and don’t listen to much chatter around them. 

I hate chors?

I saw him run hither tither.. There was a certain intimidating intensity to his actions. Ignoring him? !... was impossible !
He looked a little demented ..his eyes had become orange and he looked creepily desperate trying to look for something that could never be found, probably because it never existed --;or did it ?!.
It was quite a crowded ladies compartment in the western railway towards Chruchgate.This guy-lean brown skinned with his huge eyes sticking out on his face had seemed to have caught everyones attention there with his actions.
He kept mumbling to himself about a lost cover of money and kept looking into his shimmi cover thinking of the probability that it may have torn from below,,but none of that had happened and so he kept repeating that there was around 960 bucks that was now gone...
The women were frenzied in the compartment ,as he incessantly kept peeping into his humble shimmi cover carrying small chivda packets and alternatively peeked below seats and at the feet of women sitting and standing, all across the compartment. He was at this for atleast 15 mins now, till some women responded ...
Women could be hit at the correct sentimental spot isnt it ?!...
They asked him to check whether his bag had a hole or whether the packet he was looking for was in his bag itself..he sat on the gangway ...all eyes on him, he turned his shimmi cover upside down and made all his chivda packets fall out ..but his so called packet of money was'nt there..
Like that idea hadnt striked him earliers. All of a sudden his eyes became red from orange now and he cover his face with his palm in desperation and seemed like would cry bitterly,,,his voice was teary and desperate, ...
But in all this, I unusually felt disconnected ,scared and angry at those actions of his.
So even as he continued his crazy searching drive yet again, the moment he neared my area and looked around my feet area..i froze ..I quickly hid mycell phone deep in my bag even as it vibrated and held my bag as tight as I could.
By then a few women had been hit hard by his actions and in all emotional sentiment went upto him and handed over a hundred rupee note. my inner being said: LO! what dimwits was'nt that what he may have been waiting for...
But then I came back to the thought that maybe he really lost stuff and that this was much needed help.
That was it....The lady blinded by emotion asked him to stop his weeping and gave him a 100 bucks. He still continued worriedly to look around ,didnt look into anyones eyes and kept his play acted insane weep on, till the lady begged him to take the money. Suddenly he stopped and very hesitantly took the note. He still continued looking around and then alighted in the next platform that came by. Thats when the other women who were only witnessing all the action ,but not ignoring him ,spoke to the woman. they told her that she was stupid to give him the money as many had suspected him to have acted all that while just for this. One thing to be noticed was that he didnt feel like alighting the train even as his act lasted 3 stations almost.! Also Would the guy dare to do such a thing in the general compt among men...?
How much ever the woman who lent or I may like to believe that there was even a little genuinity to his action and teary eyes (less teary and more feiry)...its really scary to see various new ways adopted by chors to get through a living..I hate chors!

I can’t see enough of…

Of lush green rice fields, serene backwaters –decorated with slanted and tall coconut trees on the edges
Of Thatched roof houses that emanate the smell of fresh varagu,
Of women in traditional white saris, with golden or various colorful borders,
Of women with wavy- curly , coconut -oiled –hair, half braided with flowers tucked in them,
Of their necklines embellished with golden chains of various sizes..
Of the smell of coconut oil that is emanated right from from men women children to yellow banana chips to parappu vadas to jackfruit chips to sweet banana bajjis and so on..
Of chukku valam, of desiccated coconut in all kinds of food
Of spacious huge thatched roof divine temples ,decorated with huge golden oil lamps
Of the divine fragrance of thetchi poo, of namboodris(temple priests) with their side bunned hair, clad in shortly tucked dhotis
of godly elephants ,their faces decorated with huge golden masks with colorful borders that make them look divine
Of the marvelous festivities in temple with their loud and uniquely rhythmic panchavadhyams (5 different instruments being played )
Of the elephants who participate in them and sway their piggy tails to the drum beats…
Of brown skinned men in mundu ,all folded up to above the knee or with which men walk holding half of their mundu up, the omnipresence of them right from offices to temples to trains or even on bikes..
Of kids whose eyes are smeared with kohl and eyebrows over lined and shaped with them ..
Of muthachchans with flowers tucked behind their ears when in temples and of muthachis with sandalwood paste on their foreheads
Of beggars singing old hindi songs in mallu accent so as to earn a living..
Of Malayalam movies , Of mammooty jayaraman, mohanlal.
Of the huge star struck hoardings of malabar gold, alapattu jewelers, Josco, Joy allukas all over the place.
I can’t see enough of the mystical Kerala,
Of what is surely Gods own country!

Fond reminiscence

The rare treats to the little -sweet ,little -spicy tangy rasam thatha made…

The simple and mouthwatering south Indian food that my paatis prepare ; the exact taste of which seems to be impossible to replicate by anyone ,even after a million trials…
The special festive delicacies that no one makes anymore ,the mouth watering oorgais(pickles),esp. Sion paatis mangaa valam!(literally translated –mango water pickle)

The special taste that the food acquired when my paatis specially mixed them with their hands and fed me affectionately..

The long walks with my then- more –energetic- paati ,down the lanes of Matunga; waiting for her to finish socializing with the million tamilian mamas and mamis she met on the way,going to temples with her in pavadai ,the numerous visits to relatives and friends homes where she’d pull me along and on the way explain in detail how they were related and all the other histories related to them

Accompanying thatha to grocery shopping at the matunga markets and in the bargain being treated to the chocolates bisuits and samosas
The stories paati would tell me ,not just mythology related but even friends and relative related (in short the paati gossips;)

The evenings spent with thatha paati in listening to kachcheris!
Having to sing the carnatic songs learnt at paatu class as a compulsion in front of thatha paatis and receiving constructive criticisms for the same !

Watching tamil and Malayalam movies almost every Sunday afternoon with paati,,which then became an intrinsic part of my way of living as well

The 4 p.m. sharp chai and rusk sessions at sion with thata and paati
The days spent with athai-aunty athimbar-uncle and anuakka; athais irresistible papputu(dal chaval)

The weeks and full days spent in watching old hindi movies (esp. the amithabh ones) with utmost indolence, back to back with anuakka

Films seen and days spent with Jinga ;)
The forced morning walks with him at five gardens

The day spent with thatha -paati at five gardens and the roadside kulfi that they not only bought for me but also indulged into, themselves

Thathas quiet warmth and teary eyed blessings!

There are So many such more that cannot be penned down but that will always remain special and be cherished teary eyed!

I remember the tears that flowed out every time thatha- paati would leave for their yearly visit to kerala !

Why are Memories are the only things we can keep?