Bits From Life, doctor, Fire, hope,, literary lapses, old age, Passion, Reminiscence, revival, Tamarind Rice, women, Working woman

Wiping Away The Dust

One whole year. Unbelievably so ! A year passed by sans a single post on my blog. A year passed by with no creativity firing up my grey cells. A year passed by engulfed in the smoky mist of white coats. A year passed by trying to decipher the course of nerves, the worth of ganglia and the mechanisms that keep humans breathe with peace. A year since i embarked on my post graduation course in ENT surgery – A lot to say, a lot to share.

I wouldnt be here yet if not for two incidents that occured a period spanning the last two months. 

*  My school reunion that happened last week
*  For that wonderful, smoldering mail from The Tamarind Rice team ,letting this proud spirit know about their decision to showcase her article At The Bookshop at their literary meet ‘ Literary Lapses

School reunions always arrive carrying a mixed bag of emotions . Nostalgia mounting beyond seams can be overwhelming at times and at other times they can leave you all brooding when reminded about the good things that withered away over the time. And this time, it came as a common query – ‘ Why dont you write these days, Maliny?’ 

Oh, i missed writing ! I did. But these were months when the thought of sitting lost in a fluffy cushion typing away word after word, spewing posts felt like a luxury. 

And i am not yet sure how long away is my next post. Nevertheless, i badly need to satisfy my itch to write something this very moment and that too,with all my heart. Now that i have done it there are few words to describe exactly what i feel right now. Enlightened, maybe?

There are times when you need to sail with the wind. So that you derive as much power as you can to sail against it when your mind years for it the most. There are low times. There are duties to be performed. There are goals to be achieved. There is a time to toil. There is a time to let free. There is a time to celebrate.

Life runs a course. This moment,i realise that sometimes,it is fine to abide by the rules of fate. Sometimes it is alright to float and not to fly. But never let the spark die out. Let it burn within in the lightest of the shades. You never know. The very next minute might very well be the that perfect polishing moment you had waited for all along. 

blogadda, contest, fiction, love, old age, women


This post grabbed the WOW Badge as part of the Write Over The Weekend contest conducted by Blogadda .
   The bus came to a sudden halt with no prior hint , that I almost knocked my head against the bar .

“ Are you ok , Geetha ji “ , my maid enquired , her mellow voice genuine and concerned .

“I am fine . Almost survived if I might say “ . I replied trying to sound funny , as she wrapped her agile arms around me and swayed me back to my seat .

      Travelling by public transport is a struggle in itself , worse if your age happens to be on the unfortunate side of 60 . A cold shiver shot through my body as the chilling wind sweeped through the window in a hurry . Draping my saree around tightly I flexed my arms closer to my body . The ink blue sky was in the remarkable process of giving way to the crimson clouds. Soon darkness would embrace them . Suppressing the bout of cough which scratched me at the back of my throat , I closed my eyes .

    The day was the most tiring one in months and the most dreaded . If it wasn’t for my maid who noticed a tinge of blood on the sink a few days back , I would be on my bed reciting the Bhagavat Gita at this hour of the day . The horrendous events of the day drifted across my eyes . Alarmed was I about the whole procedure , for a person in her twilight years doesn’t deserve to perch her hopes on a higher rung . But the doctor , a compassionate human being , was persuasive as he cut out a small bit of her breast tissue for the biopsy . Breast disease and blood tinged sputum ? I was confused . It might be a secondary affecting the lungs – He disclosed the assumption through his implicit speech ,  an outright revelation would have shattered me , I was sure . The benefit of the doubt would offer me solace atleast till the biopsy report comes.

   I clinged onto the bar , as the bus paused at the next stop . A lady carrying a baby in her arms entered the bus , almost staggering as the bus resumed its journey in a hurry . I watched as my maid offered the lady her seat . Settling down next to me , the lady sighed a breath of relief and smiled at me .

   I noticed that the pretty smile which twinkled on her lips failed to brighten her eyes . Is it true or is it just me , for I have always sensed people tending to pour out their minds while conversing with an old person . So did this lady , who smiled at me oblivious of the fact that it failed to mask her sorrow.

 Her name was Sakshi and she was returning after paying a visit to her mother who resided in the next town . Sakshi’s mother used to spend her days at their house till two months back , until  her husband started getting irked at the presence of an old petite woman who threatened to fall ill anytime . Try as she might , Sakshi’s pleadings to retain her mother at their house failed to pierce her husband’s deaf ears . Her mother was ousted from their house , albeit with a permission for Sakshi to visit her mother every month .

Finishing the poignant story , Sakshi  said with a gurgle of emotions stammering her words , “ My mother is sick and I miss her so much . Every bit of my heart yearns to take her back to my home and nurse her as best as i could . Unfortunately , my hands are tied .The fear of  jeopardising my family overshadows my resposibility towards my mother . Isnt my future my husband and this child ? Cruel as it might sound , I cant lose them at any cost . “ She wiped away the stream of tear that gushed down her cheeks .

I kept looking at her till tears flooded my eyes and blinded my sight . The bus shrieked to a stop once again , only that this was where I was supposed to get down .

I walked with small slow steps to the formidable building , which has been providing me shelter for the past one year –‘  Karunya Home For The Destitute ‘ , when my maid asked hesitantly

“ When are your children coming to visit you Geeta ji ? I saw them the day you were brought here , never after . Hope they will be here to take you to the hospital for the next visit . “

My heart fluttered as I answered her question with just a slight nod of my head .

 And that was when the vague doubts that have been haunting my mind for the past few months resurfaced to confluence into an answer – Maybe they never will . 


This post is written for Write Over The Weekend , an initiative for Indian Bloggers by

P.S : Image Source : Find Here . 

Bits From Life, contest, fiction, indiblogger, loneliness, love, old age

Let Them Soak No More In Loneliness

What is the worst of woes that wait on age ?

What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow ?
To view each loved one blotted from life’s page
And be alone on earth , as i am now 

                                                                LORD BYRON , childe harold



                          A bunch of medical students were guided to an old age home as part of their community medicine posting . I was one among them . For us the daily visits to such places as part of the posting was kind of a breather given the hectic clinical postings that we were supposed to handle otherwise . Giggling and passing jokes to each other, we entered the building . On our way we passed a dainty old man who was sitting crouched on a chair straining hard to scan the newspaper . There was a moment of absolute silence when it started dawning on our minds that this visit is not going to be mere fun . The assistant professor of the department who was at the helm of our group asked us to settle down . And then , he started speaking . He was so subtle in his content, painting before us a rather dark picture of the despondent , dejected people residing in that particular old age home . 

                    Much to my surprise , i noticed a girl who was seated beside me  trying hard to suppress tears pouring down her cheeks . Yes, the speech was poignant and it touched our hearts way too deep . The sir might have noticed it , because he started focussing on the girl , his eyes away from her . ” I see young hearts wailing , at the mere narration of the loneliness and torture that people have to go through when they become old . Then why do the same young sons and daughters change colours and turn venomous to such extent that they discard their parents in some corner of a well  renowned vacuum of an institution years forward ? Are they too much to handle when they are old ? Werent you unbelievably hard to handle when you were babies ? Did they throw you away to indulge in the ecstasies of their married life ? “

              We left the building with a heavy heart . Atleast a couple of us promised in our minds that this would never be the fate of our parents .

picture courtesy : Google


                  I climbed the stairs of the very same old age institution which left me shattered a few years back . I had started earning stipend as part of my internship and i was here to bring to fulfillment a decision i had made a couple of years back, while i disembarked the very same stairs . Meeting the Mother Superior , i handed over whatever little the amount i could manage as monetary help . Right then while she was giving me a more vivid account of the working of the institution , an eldery lady of around 70 years came by . The topic diverted to her past . She belonged to a brahmin family , who had to elope from her tharavadu owing to the rejection and harsh treatment she had to bear from her daughter in laws . And now look at her , she was helping the servants there cook non vegetarian dishes something which she wouldnt have even dreamt of in those happy minutes of holding her new born son close to her bosom, years back .

             What goes wrong in the mindsets of people when they grow older ? what happens so much so that it destroys the innocence and care deep from the rootlevels ? Yes its true, life starts becoming an ordeal once you step into family life . But certain emotions   connecting two people are so deep and inseparable that they never deserve to be viewed differently by either anytime in their life , however far and high life takes you . Like the emotional chord that connects a mother and her kid and vice versa . 

                During my pediatrics posting i have seen sorrows of mothers who had to witness their babies passing through sickness which leaves them numb , motionless , with not even an ounce of energy to cry out . The unfortunate mothers would be yearning from their bottom of their heart to feed their babies atleast once, to hear their long hoped for bundle of joy cry out at the top of their voice like every other child . How does it end up in a situation where the same mothers cry out to their sons not to bully them infront of others , many years down the lane ? Pitiful isnt ? 

             If you can jot down a promise in the back of your hearts never to let your parents suffer when they are old , never to let them weep in the dark corridors of an old age home sinking in helplessness and desperation , that would be the most heavenly manner by which you could repay  all the hardships they had to suffer to watch you grow up ,all the  care and affection they showered on you all these years . Let no parent soak any more in loneliness . They deserve every bit of love from their children till the very last minute of their life . Dont they ? 

picture courtesy : google

 ‘ This post has been submitted for the Soak No More contest by indiblogger and surf excel matic . ‘