The Brilliance Of Super Star

The day the whole world (well, almost) was waiting for had dawned at last. The media had been counting down to that day for quite sometime then. No new president was being sworn in, nope, India had not reached the world cup final, it was simply yet another day when yet another movie would be premiered. Or was it?? If it was, I wouldn’t be taking much pains to blog it, would I? It was something beyond. I wouldn’t be surprised if 15^th of June would be called “Shivaji day” henceforth. Indeed it was. Unlike the many festivals that monotonously keep coming up, this one was celebrated by people belonging to not merely the same caste but a religion. A religion so simple, yet so powerful. A religion of 9 letters – RAJNI KANT – Summa adhirudhu la?? :)

We had managed to get tickets for the first day (thanks to madhu). I had geared up and set everything ready the day before. I was excited beyond explanation. After passing 24 hours (it seemed much longer) with great difficulty, we reached the theatre. It was packed with elders, men, women, boys and girls, who were all kids at that instant. As soon as we reached, we were busy hunting for our seats. The theatre was packed and set ten minutes prior, like a volcano waiting to erupt. As the screen flashed its first sign of lights, it began – a noise I thought – a guy from the posterior end had initiated it – and the others followed suit. The whole theatre vibrated, and as I got goose bumps all over my body, I realized – it was not a mere noise; it was a language. And they conversed throughout.

At some occasions, no one is bothered about acting or story line or direction. The simple presence of that man on screen kept the adrenaline pumping for three whole hours. As the lights on the ceiling flashed, we realized we had to get up. We took our belongings; with no message to take home but yet happiness filled in our hearts. It was over. I realized how I felt then. I’ve felt the same way just once before. That was the first time I ever looked at waves.

Many a times in our life, we feel like a child. And we smile without reason; we feel happy without reason. There can be a myriad such occasions. At all those occasions, our sixth sense goes numb. We behave or react how we feel like. Those occasions would be memorable and their mere remembrance would make us smile. We seem to be pacing fast, to be racing time, but for what?? What are we sacrificing?? It would be nice, if each of us took the time to spread smiles, to make others feel happy, to take our time and love, to forgive without thought. In short, it would be nice, if we stay a child always – or atleast make others feel so in our presence.

Hope the innocence in us never gets extinct.

Cheers,

Hopie.

Souvenirs précieux

In my earlier post, I had mentioned that I would be sharing some priceless moments of my life with you. As I wrote that line, many incidents sprung up in my mind. I’d be writing about all of them in the posts to come and they are not ordered in any specific fashion. This particular one is also part of the “people-leaving-my-life” routine. This person was/is/would be an important chapter in the book of my life. The person with whom I’ve shared more than a bike, room, bed, perhaps even a bathroom – Nithya. Ladies and gentlemen, I warmly welcome you to Nithya weds Krishnan.

Before actually going into the wedding, I’d like to rewind a little bit – well if you could call it little – to 2005 January. That was precisely when the groom search began. I’ve often wondered how it would feel to stand dressed for a couple of strangers who would project their son as the nicest man in the whole world; how it would feel to talk to HIM with all the skeptism^TM. The mega serial of searching lasted until January 2006 when things were finalized –the champion was adjudicated, the saga was scheduled and the arena was marked. It was decided, or perhaps destined, that HE would be the one taking my sister away from me.

The next few months were packed with endless shopping, organizing, planning, inviting and loads of talking. I thoroughly enjoyed the first part though. It was a festival at home.

I was surprised to see many heads coming forward – to prove their part rather – to “aid” in the event. I wonder how people, rather relationships, could be so hypocritical. With not much to comment (or not given a choice?) we marched forward. Day 1 had arrived. THEY had landed. As soon as we reached our room in the “colosseum”, I found strangers coming into our room to “have a look at” the object and objects at display. I decided to make a quiet exit. Her friends had come to spend the last few of her spinster moments with her. With the thought that she’d be more happy and comfortable with them and of course to give-in to the scramble for space, I decided to be with my cousins back at home. The wedding reception was a mere formality – feeding people, plastic-smiled photographs, and grabbing gifts. The sand had all trickled down and time had brought us THERE.

I was lying wide awake in my bed (floor rather), wondering, looking at the fan – it would all be over tomorrow. She’d be an entirely different person and miles away from me. The mere thought made me feel a lump in my throat. I looked around – my mother and aunt were sleeping blissfully. NO I thought. It happens in everyone’s life and FOREVER is never really true. NO - I don’t think anyone would ever have had a sister like mine – there was a battle between my senses – do I give in?? YES. And I cried. I cried until my mom began to tug at my feet asking me to wake up. “varalaya kalyaanathukku” (Aren’t you coming for the wedding?) she asked. I gave a bright smile which I decided to freeze in my face and mind – atleast to match the maatu kombu saree that I’d bought.

I got dressed and we started. My mom. She’s one woman who makes me wonder. I could feel the heaviness in her heart as we drove to the mandapam from our home. My dad was decked and done. After a series of rituals that were performed, the time for the event had come – the maangalya dhaaranam. She had just gone in to tie the madisaar. These would be last few moments she’d be just my sister – nothing more, nothing less. The dressing was over by now. She was ready – and I saw her. She was breathtakingly beautiful. There has always been this ego clash in my mind – I never tell her explicitly that she’s good at anything though I feel it. And there she was standing right in front of me. Do I tell her she looked beautiful?? She’d asked me a couple of times by the time I was debating within – I had to answer – and I did – “sumaara irukka dee” (you look moderate) – her face shrunk – I felt happy – cause there was someone to whom my opinion mattered and that someone was going to walk away. Do I hug her?? I wanted to. Miss. Ego was controlling me. Hell. I decided to overcome her and took a step forward – and there was my sister’s friend who did exactly what I wanted to. With one hell of an emotional overload, I retraced my steps – ashamed to show my tears – and ran to my mom. “chi po paithyam” she said as tears trickled down her eyes too. The mere warmth of her hand over my shoulder made feel light. And then on – all of us – on and off the dais would be united by one thought – hope for THEIR happiness.

She came and sat on our fathers lap like a little angel. Over a million flower petals, a thousand prayers and well wishers – over a hundred Gods showering their blessing them from above – in just ten seconds, the two families were united by three nuptial knots.

Hope they live happily ever after.

Cheers,
Hopie.

P.S. follow link to see photos!

Destiny and me

I was a blog virgin so long. The pangs of frustration, loneliness and partial joblessness drew me into the only savior – blogging. The contents of this blog are purely my thoughts and my own. Being my first post, I thought I should first give an introduction to me, as, after reading this, you can decide whether to read further posts or not.

Who am I?? I guess this page reflects enough about me. I am Hopie. I hope and hope and hope that things would always turn better – and when I’ve reached the corner, I begin to hope again. Not that I’m all that optimistic, but there’s no other way to get going, is there? I am old fashioned and like things neat – note NOT attractive but neat. I take care in choosing things. The third part of this page is the most crucial one – Making A Difference. I take pains to make an impact in the lives of everyone I come across. I make it a point to make them remember me for at least ONE thing. When people think of me as just “one among all” I take those extra efforts to move one step higher. I’m a perfect Gemini. I wonder which twin of mine is writing this. If ever you notice any inconsistency, perhaps, say hi to the other twin in me.

My “MAD” voyage began approximately 22 years ago when I came into this planet. God gave me many gifts on my zeroth birthday – people – caring parents, loving grandparents, a gorgeous sister (who came to visit me after her first day of school), a whole mob of aunts and uncles and cousins to come and with time to come – friends; time and happiness. I vaguely remember, I was put into this play school (well, if you could call it so) christened “Chandra Montessori” (pronounced Chandra Maandi Seri). I remember this teacher who would say “azhugaya niruthu” (Stop crying). That’s one lesson that I’ve never been able to learn till now. A seed of sensitiveness was planted in me and it’s still growing.

I went into the same school as my sis (thanks to appa for standing in queue at 3 am to buy the application form). Many people danced in and out of my life ever since – Friends. It was tough to move on – I still think of them and think if they’d ever think of me. The period I changed my school had a drastic impact on my life that was coming up. I was still an introvert and yet managed to make friends and move on. But the ‘people-leaving-my-life’ journey continued. For the marks that I had obtained, I decided my career would have to be civil engineering. But destiny had something else in store for me. I went to do my graduation in Production engineering at a local college and I’m doing my masters now.

This is my 22 years of life. Te one thing that I had to always face was people walking out of my life. Sometimes, time gives good answers and most of the times it doesn’t, and when it doesn’t?? We wait. I’m still waiting…

In the posts to come I’d be writing about those incidents, timeless moments rather, that really made an impact on my life. I’d be writing them from my perspective – cause its my blog after all. I choose not to pen some of them – trust me you’d be better off…

Aren’t articles supposed to have morals?? What happens in the end after all the reading and living?? Through the voyage of life, we learn and learn and in the end? We begin afresh.

Cheers,

Hopie.