The favourite Professor

The students were up against the black board presenting their seminar topics. Since, I and my best friend had given ours we were sitting in the back bench, silently munching snacks.  Suddenly the teacher walked over and sat beside us. “ Oh ! No!” I thought, looking at TJ. But TJ smilingly offered  the bag of Chips to the professor who to my surprise not just accepted it but distributed among the students nearby as well.
That’s when I knew Dr.Rajendran (Dr.VR)  was a cool person.
Every evening after the days event’s he would join the students for a volley ball match, prank on a few students.  Once I remember winning an Ice cream from a friend. With a smirk of victory I was about to unwrap the cornetto. Suddenly, Prof.VR  snatched it from my hand and kept on walking along with the senior faculty. I was surprised and a bit disappointed with the disappearance of my ice cream.

When my naughty batch was well known for irritating a few professors by shooting too many unanswerable questions leading them to walk away during the class session, Dr.V.R walks in saying “I am so happy about this class . Really guys! I am blessed with such good bunch of students.”  I remember the disbelief in our classmates face when he said that. Later when a professor complained about us to him, he would say “Students are supposed to be  that way.  Else, where is the fun? They are also smart kids.”  At this remark, the pranksters of the class were moved.
He believes that a teacher grows along with his students, encouraging us to question more and express our ideas. He felt no fear in accepting that sometimes he wasn’t sure of certain questions but would refer and answer us the very next day in class. He impressed us and inspired us of how a teacher must be.
He was responsible and encouraged us not just in the academic arena but also in extracurricular events. Pushed us far more than what we knew of ourselves.
Our very own friendsly Prof. who dances with us during the DJ or departmental tours. That professor in whose class you are allowed to ease, have a snack and still be productive. 
“Work while you work, Play while you play.”
“Eat happily, Play happily, Live happily. “
He made sure his happiness was contagious to the people nearby.

My first internship, my first blood donation (more of overcoming my fear), my first conference, my very first anchoring sessions, my first paper presentation (which won the best paper award in humanities) was all because of him. He saw our capabilities while we were unaware of it. He understood us and helped us grow by accepting who we were.
 He is that professor who brings home made food for the students who work empty stomach while organising events. (Credit goes to his better half). He is someone who would surprisingly catch the hostel students and take them home to celebrate Diwali with him. Visits you at the hospital to make sure you take proper treatment and the diet afterwards.

“ The people around you are your family and you should care for them.”  This is the biggest thing I learnt from him as a person.

 “Always have a parallel experiment in progress so that you don’t lose yourself when you stumble.”
A mentor who supports your project idea which was totally unrelated to his field of research and helps us explore the curious world of science as the best thing that can happen to a researcher. He gave me that freedom and support.  Months later, he called me up from a conference in IISc. “ I thought your ideas were just small experiments, but after attending the conference here, I realise the bigger impact it can have on the society. I am sorry for underestimating. Now, you focus on this topic with your whole heart and we shall be successful.” Project discussions with him were more friendly, supportive  and challenging. 'Keep pushing your limits.' He lives by these words. We were against this new challenge  which is different from his comfortable  research  field  for a masters' project . He showed me the meaning of who you can term as a “GUIDE”.

A lot of Taiwan stories of Prof. Le Lehn Tee and the best human I aspire to be. The favourite teacher who played a very crucial role in my batch mates lives just by being himself: generous, caring, empathetic, jovial, responsible and encouraging. He taught us how to cherish life and be a better human being.
My teacher, My guide, My family and My friend. Happy birthday to you sir.

Order , Chaos and the rest

What am I to thee?
An atom or dust ?
An ensemble of magic!

What are you to me ?
Does the atom know the existence of a molecules ?
Do cells realise their collective functions creates the brain ?
Do planets know of solar system?
Or of the larger galaxies?

Curious are we to explore,
Wondering about the paragon
The order in chaos!!

Some words sound better as strings

Hey guys,
To read my poems visit the link below
 My poetry blog
 

An unedited night journal

Away from the maddening crowd,
Hustling rush.. As a final year student at a developing university my life has been pretty packed up for the last few weeks. Having almost no time to eat properly .. Today I realize something called as peace.. I notice many when they are free plunging into their smartphones and movies or books. Reluctant or ignorant to the lone thoughts. We aren't alone in such world. But after a while I realise what I have been turning into .. Stepping out of my room because my room mate was busy with the laptop I realised how magical the moment was .. To sit under the starlight night, to observe the night life around me. Brought up in a city that never sleeps day and night were pretty much same for me except for the street lights and less human populations. 
The city is so lively most times failing to notice the little gifts of the universe. The rural regions have them in plenty . tonight
Feeling my heartbeat under the clear star light night I gaze at the twinkling dots.
Feeling the cold kiss my bare foot I feel the jitters up my calf and spine. My nose feels cold . but I rather not be wrapped up. All I can hear is my deep breath, and the insects acoustics, somewhere I hear the night birds chirp , the bat circles the darkest corners of the silent building. The breeze must have slept I guess so. This moment now feels like magic, alluring me into an undreamt trance, the lizard s existence and the frogs croak tell me the night has a life.the morning rose sleep gently, the grass stays still .. Cold and moist, tingling my barefoot. I awe the twinkling dots that flicker .. They flicker but stay still. There is something about the sky that makes me wonder .. Helps me breathe a little deeper. I am not alone but unlike the social media my thoughts aren't rippled off .. The calm mind just observes as my senses sharpen. I hear the insects. The tiny chirrups . I see the persistent owl. There is life in the lazy grass patch dark to be reveled to me. This moment my senses are calm. My thoughts are just wonders and I am in love with the night to be afraid of it. Feeling unified .  I can't stay as I step inside my room.and close the door beside I feel the change In state of mind the walls replace the open sky and the wide spread grass patch, I stare at the ceiling to see the fan wings chase each other and the nightlamp glow replacing the thousand tiny flickers of the deep sky. The bed doesn't feel like the cold grass. Missing the fireflies .. I lay awake returning to the crowded world .. Very different from where I was and that was ? Just two steps from my room. Vowing to return when I find time .. Alas ! And Ah!! That's the issue TIME !!

A letter to grandpa

This is a letter for my demised grandpa. I know its never gonna reach him. May be he would know. He was a wonderful person. I used to argue with him that I would never write about his boring life. (Just for fun) but here I am publishing a letter. His life wasn't boring either he knew how to make the best of it. A born traveller and a good human.

Thatha (grandpa),
I have been travelling since eight hours. no phone calls from you. I was actually irritated when you used to call me every fifteen minutes while I was travelling. Well you can't call me now,I have your phone. You can't come to pick me up either, I have your scooty.  Ever since I remember you were my chauffeur,my butler, my companion to roam around, my Santa and my grandpa. They say the "daughter-dad" relationship is more adorable.. But you gave me a different story to tell. I am blessed to have grown up as your granddaughter .. I remember teaching you alphabets when I first went to school. I remember us eating dinner, I remember the accident, I remember the huge quantities of lollipops you got me. I remember you wait for me to get ready to school. Ever since a kid I was never punctual.. I frowned while you would patiently wait. You never got angry with me Thatha. No matter what I did. I remember you scolding dad for scolding me or beating me. I remember the evening snacks you would always get me after tutions. No one except you , grandma or mom would know I would be hungry. Money never mattered but your grandchildren did. I remember everything grandpa, our selfie, movie together , how you loved grandma, your tears, your calmness, your good heart, your braggart times. I remember everything .. That's the problem now.. You gave me so much to remember to learn, to cherish .. You were my no.1 fan. I really dint know how you sat through my violin lessons even when they were just basics. I know I would still get annoyed but your bragging and boasting about me.   You were my support.. I don't know if anyone would love me that much like you did. I knew how much you loved me. But I am not sure if I let you know how much you meant to me. Every piece of sweet I forbid you to have, every time I tried to be abstemious with your food. It was due to the fact that I wanted you to be with me for a longer period. I am sorry about the last piece of mango we fought over. I thought I had time. I thought I would see you boast about the adidas shoes which I would present you using my first salary, I thought I would have to argue with you to control your excitement when you come to my convocation. I thought we would go on a tour to malasiya. The problem was I thought I had time. Whatever it was ,you will always be the best boon I had. Did you know why my relatives were jealous of me ? It was because I had a Thatha like you. You taught me how to forgive and forget, you taught me to care for people around, you taught me what it feels like to be an awesome grandpa.

Now I'm entering the city slowly  knowing that you wouldn't be awake and waiting for me since two hours. I know you wouldn't come wake me up early and get a frown from a sleepy myself. I know you won't be accompanying me around the town. You wouldn't be there standing like "name it your majesty .. I shall get it done .. Or I am always at your service."  I remember you referring me as your mom. I remember the unconditional love you bestowed. I know life is not going to be the same without you .I also know that up in the heaven you are still bragging about the letter your granddaughter is writing. Miss you Thatha. As you wished i learnt from your mistakes and corrected mine. You are the best grandfather anyone could have. I guess you knew I loved you a lot.
With love ,
Yours
Granddaughter

Happy birthday Mom ( something for you )

Today is a very special day .. a very special day indeed. Not because the fabulous year 2014 is going to end and  I can sit and  countdown until twelve pm for the new year to begin. Blaah ! Millions  through the decades have worked on the excitement of the new year.But the reason why it is very special to me is because it taught me strength… it taught me hope.. it taught me love , care, forgiveness and everything I wanted to be and did not want to be. The only good thing about 31st of every year (unless its a holiday) is that its my Mothers birthday . In the journey of being my mom and handling my  insanity for 21 years. She has actually given me the self confidence that I am manageably insane.

Let me tell you a small story of my toddler self. It was a very calm afternoon. I could hear my grandma call me for lunch. The TV remote was free , my toys scattered on the floor.  I remember myself clinging to the window staring at the road.. ignoring my aunt .. ..like the very George of the jungle … time passed.... tired of my waiting I dragged the chair to the main door of our house… I waited ...waited ..waited .. zzzzzzz and finally hit the snooze button on.  Hours must have passed I heared a familiar euphony  .. could smell a comfortable and familiar smell I woke up to see my mom return from school (she was employed) for lunch. I remember sitting on her lap and staring at the cartoon book she was holding in one hand. I remember the twinkle in her eyes when she read out a line and fed me a spoonful of rice.  Sometimes later I still have a very vague memory of realizing and reading out my first word from a book sitting on her lap.

As vague and misty memories can be, one thing I can be sure of is she might have failed in making me that chubby little toddler but what she forced into me wasn’t that spoonful of rice. But something bigger than that- she opened up my world of curiosity.

She was my safer spot when the world scared me. Every lunch on Sunday or dinner time during weekdays she told us stories not of some unknown land. But the anecdotes about my own relatives.  Her childhood… her memories.  This made me grow up as a person who had eyes to see the best in people. Later when I grew up I realized the rose garden I lived also contains thorns. I noticed the flaws my relatives made. But being her daughter I had eyes only to see the roses not the thorns. She taught me how to forgive those thorns. When something bothered me what echoes in my head is just her voice quoting Jawaharlal Nehru “And I reject the Indian Noise.”   

When I saw myself no longer as girl but as a knotty teenager trying to fit in the indian idealogy of a woman. When the Indian society around had different ideologies and when the indian mothers preached "The- Ideal-dutiful -ndian women-morse" to their daughter.She was one mother who recited Bharatiyaar’s puthumai pen. Made me realize I am an individual and I have my stand. Gave me choices let me stand up for them.  

Optimism was better understood not when my mom taught me Shelly’s Ode to the West Wind. But when she stands by my dad’s side through the stormy days. She taught me “Love is not love which alters when its alteration finds.”

I remember her waking up early at four finish making all the meals for the days. I remember her running to catch to bus at morning 6 am . I rember her face the world with all her might.I ve seen her travel a thousand miles to the most rural schools of tamilnadu. She taught me about self satisifaction, dedication and what it takes to make a difference in others lives. Through the stormy days or the normal ones. She and dad never made us feel the change.  Made me believe Life is not in waiting for the storm to pass but in dancing in the rain. 

Long ago  she told me “ As long as you are in my hands I want to let you live your dreams.” I saw her struggle as she said these words . For it’s a universal fact that a mother is an overprotective creatures.  I was struggling through the time when I felt let down by people I loved . So was she “Promise me that you will be bold when you might face a situation where people let you down. Promise me you wont be broken when by chance the situation returns again. For I know you are attached to your new friends now.” I could sense the fear she had but eventually she let me live my life.. make mistakes and learn from them. Standing beside as my friend seeing me fall , pick myself up and run ahead. Hiding her own expectations for me as a typical indian mother she lets me explore the world. I acknowledge those struggles she faces to see me get hurt yet sticks to her own promise to let me live my dreams. She taught me what A MOTHER can be.

People said a mother is the sacred figure of care, love and affection. She showed me  the best mom comes with an additional package of being strong, determined, never letting go of loved ones, letting go or forgiving people, having the guts to face your fears, optimistic, what it takes to be a teacher, hope, never ever to judge people, never  ever to give up …. The list goes on..

 With the IQ of a skeptic  CBI officer when it comes to my pointless dramas (which is easily identified in a jiffy) she turns out to be very haughty dangerous creature while I tend to be the pantomime drama queen. Gathering the experiences of handing such a unique species like me,she still teaches me of tolerance ,humanity and sanity.( With a sigh she might say its fate.) But mom(if you are reading this ) you really have taught me that we keep on discovering ourself everyday. Let yours continue as my mother mine as your daughter trying to drench us in the amicable drizzles and downpours.

And thats another butterfly effect

Caterpillar … yes! That slimy green wriggling kin of the arthropod family caught my eye as we played in the puddle. Insects … they were the last species in the world with whom I was comfortable with. But this weird green creature made me very curious. As a small kid I watched it crawl slowly on the leaves munching the same. It cAfter a few days I found that shiny bulb hanging from the leaves of our garden tree. I asked my aunt “ What’s this and where did it come from ?”. She explained me but all I understood was its called a caterpillar. It spins that bulb and sulks into it for some time and soon it emerges as a butterfly.

 As a 3 yrs old girl whose word was filled with neverland,oz and fairies. This made an huge impact in my mind ..but this was unknown to me until my teenage . never did I relalise the impact of this biography .
 My biology classes made me feel happy when I read about butterfly’s life cycle. But it has a deep psychological connection with me and I realized this only in my teenage. One fine day my friend found this shiny cocoon in our school grounds, being a science freak he showed it to me and boasted about his plans to keep it under observation. From then on I got the daily report from him about the cocoon. And one fine day I missed school. When I called he told me how beautiful it was to see the butterfly come out of the cocoon.  When I tried to visualize the whole scenario. It struck me the transition .. the quest for an identity , The faith , the perseverance.
 First stands the insignificant non attractive caterpillar ignored by the world… it keeps on munching around the leaves which is nothing but the duty … 
Stage two : the cocoon. This is my favourite part, the caterpillar spins a cocoon by itself ..neglecting all the worldly ties  it sulks in .. this reminds me of the gloomy days we face ..ignored and isolated….
Third stage : Inside the cocoon it nurtures itself …this is where the transition occurs . .. the spiritual , mental and physical development we inflict upon ourselves is portrayed here..
 Final stage: the butterfly.. but this is another critical stage where it has to open it wings on itself ripping the cocoon by its own strength.. this exhibits the significance and courage to step out of our own comfort zone ..
There is a saying if you want to cross the ocean you must first have the courage to leave the shore and this is well exhibited in this case. … spreading its wings with  the slightest fumbling it glides…. Spreading its dazzling hues into the skies….. as small as it can be but the smile it spreads on peoples face is magnanimous. The significant butterfly. The mesmerizing dance they perform around a butterfly nest… charming and yeah ….worth watching than any stage show….

And all it says finally is " When winter comes can spring be far behind." People just need the faith to hold on.