JESUS FOUNDED A KINGDOM OF LOVE

 

The plot against Jesus killed him. 

Jesus never surrendered his commitment to love.

By his cross, he founded a strange kingdom of love 

that could bring everyone together.

DAY OUT WITH BOSOM FRIENDS

 

                                                    

      

                                                                   

 

                                                                            

 Look at her day out with bosom friends  at Mother's Veg Plaza

Bakery Junction

Look at her happiness when she was with them.

She was their SO at one point of time.

They address her SO always with respect,  though one of them was the Joint Registrar when she retired and the other AR.

I told her she must do it every month, instead of being closeted at home.

She was very happy when she came back. That happiness is writ large in the pictures.

Only thing is we missed the classy food.

FLOWER POTS

                                         

                                      Lila's well arranged flower pots or in other words plant pots

 

WASHING MACHINE THAT BROKE DOWN

 

We had a hefty problem, Saturday last.

The Washing Machine struck work. To add to the hickup, the waste water instead of draining through the conduit, chose to flood the room.

A real mess.

It was quite unthinkable to survive without the modern gadget. Its equivalent of ancient times, the maids, would no longer handwash the clothes. They now condescend to  just hang them  in the open. Taking them in is our job. Life altogether extends a  Hobson's Choice these days. 

The jack of all trades was called in. He sensed where the fault lay. But he had to empty the water that had accumulated in the drum. He took a mug and a bucket. It helped him manage the waste water.  

But the larger problem was to convert the dysfunctionality to functionality.

It was beyond the gentleman.

He sought the assistance of Jibu, the technician.

Jibu said he was busy but would turn up on Sarurday itself. He didn't turn up.

Our gentleman is relentless in his approach.

Yet, he couldn't get Jibu to do the job the next day either. 

But he has tenacity. 

He managed to make Jibu attend to the call, on Monday.

Jibu came in with a screwdriver. He had no other tools. He knew where the fault was.

He took the tap for draining the wastewater out. But along with that  there were three objects. One was a fragment of cloth. Another was a portion of a small paint brush and the last was its holder, an inch in length.

Mission over, he restarted the Washing Machine. It was working well.

He advised us to cut down on the liquid soap we used. He said there was so much soap left in the Machine and that the next two washes must be done without  any soap. He told us that going lean on the soap would clear off the residual soap  in the Machine.

Job over, that cost us Rs.550.00, he went out. 

As he was on his  way  he saw the lady of the house trying to soothe the 23 month old baby into sleep.

He said, "It seems Ma'm has the toughest job here."

I told him, she was not the mere homemaker he had a glance at. She had an excellent job where she did extremely well. She had been driving around in her car in 1988, when there were not many women on the road like that. Our children have become what they are today solely due to her guidance. 

And when one of our relatives had fallen ill and  became unconscious all of a sudden, she had the courage to take the person in her car to the hospital. It had brought the relative on the verge of death, back to life.

Jibu said he couldn't just believe, the meek lady was that strong.

He took off with the remark, "Ma'm indeed is a strong woman."

THE VILLAGE OFFICE AND A WILL

It was the saddest moment in the lives of the family of Robert Raj. They could see that the 73 year old head of the family had very little time left on earth. 

Robert had been a State Govt employee for 30 years till he had retired at the age of 55. He had  served conscientiously all through the career. He began his official life as a clerk in the collegiate education department at Chittoor. Transfers took him across Kerala. The final halt was the Intermediate College at Trivandrum.  Time Scale promotions had taken him to the Office superintedent's post. Then he bowed out of the service and settled into the  life of a pensioner. 

As Robert's wife, Helen, was a teacher in a private school at Tiruvallom, the husband and wife had taken a wise decision to settle the family at their ancestral home at Koliyoor. The distance was hardly 4 km from Koliyoor to Tiruvallom that Helen could easily commute by the KSRTC Bus. Helen looked after their four children - two boys and two girls - while Robert had been moved across all over Kerala on his postings.

The children grew up to fine gentlemen and beautiful ladies. As they had studied hard, they were able to secure admission at the CET,Trivandrum. The degree in engineering had secured jobs for all of them in the Central Govt. owned companies. The only hitch was, while both the girls were employed by the ONGC at Bombay, the sons were absorbed by the Bhilai Steel Plant.

Three years after Robert had retired from his job,  Helen too retired as HM of her school.

Their pensions  provided them finacial security. As both the husband and wife were not spendthrifts, they had built sufficient savings to see them through their old age. Since the children were all away, they pulled on with their lives togther. Those were the happy days. The intermittent  visits of the chidren had spiced their lives.

For a while life was placid. But nothing is permanent in  life. Sickness raised its ugly head.

Robert was stricken with a fever that refused to recede when he was 72. The visits to the doctors were a daily feature, but futile.  Finally, Robert was admitted at the General Hospital, Trivandrum.

It was diagnosed that the ailment was pneumonia. Though Robert was administered the best possible treatment, his condition deteriorated. Doctors could not stablise him. 

Later, the prognosis was given and the patient was discharged with the advice, that paliiative care alone was further required. There was no neglect at the hospital.

Despite their busy schedules, the sons and daughters of Robert Raj reached their home. They looked after their father very well. But they knew it was a lost cause.

The whole family was by his side, when Robert Raj breathed his last. The funeral took place the next day. 

Life couldnot be put at a standstill. The children had to return to their jobs. Helen was left alone at the house where the family had seen happy days together. The laughter resonated there even in that loneliness, Helen was subjected to. She took the suffering gamely.

However death brings in its wake a host of issues. There are accounts to be settled. The Will has to be executed. The ownership of the properties left behind by the deceased has to be transferred. 

Six months after the death of their  dear father, the children came together on a short leave to complete the legal formalities. 

The Village Office is the place where all such important matters are  finalised. But when they visited the Village Ofice at Tiruvallom they were made to run around in circles. They were instructed to produce several documents. When they said they had very little time on hand the staff at the office grew in indifference. They were heckled. They were ridiculed.

At last, the official agreed to listen to them. He verified all the documents they had produced. Helen and the children were there.

After the official satisfied himself that those who were present were the sole descendants of the late Robert Raj, he advised all the children to move out of the office. He said he wanted to speak to Helen alone.

Helen who had been a silent witness to everything that had been happening there suddenly raised her voice to a very high pitch

She said in Malayalam, " Ivar aarum purathu pokan pokunnilla. Avar ividethanne nilkum.

Nee enthinanu avarodu pokan paranjatum, ennodu thanne samsarikkanamennu paranajathum ennu  enikariam. Enikku veray bhartavundo ennu chodiakkanalle. Ninnepole orupadennathine njan kandittundu. Eluppam vendathu cheyyanam. Ente pllarku avarude jolisthalathu pokanullathanu.Avarku veruthe kalayan samayamilla"

Translated into Englsh, it could be read as,"None of my children are going out. They will remain here itself. I know very well why you had asked them to go out and said that you wanted to talk to me alone. Is it not for asking me whether I have another husband. I have seen many people like you. Do whatever has to done fast. My children have to proceed to their workplaces. They have no time to waste."

The exalted Govt. Official was stunned at the outburst.  Without a word, he signed all the documents and literally pushed them all out of his divine sanctuary where he had been lording over the common man for a very long time with his antics.

The next day morning, just as the children were preparing to proceed to their workplaces, the Village Officer, Tiruvallom made visit to their house. He said he was very sorry at what had  happened at the office the previous day. He was a very good gentleman hailing from Cheruthuruthy. 

He said the official who had given them  a harrowing time was a top leader of the organisation of the Govt. employees. He was corrupt. He had no hesitation in placing hurdles at  all the vistors to the  Village Office. He said, because of the political leanings of the corrupt and inconsiderate official, no one could do any thing to correct him or initiate action agaist him.

Helen and the entire family expressed happiness over the simplicity of the Village Officer. They offered appreciation for the visit and his soothing conversation. They were grateful to him for sparing his precious time on  their behalf.

BRICKBATS AND BOUQUETS OVER THE POST ON JDANIEL

 

When one steps into creative writing and its publishing, brickbats and bouquets are the natural corollaries.

 You would be flooded and floored with brickbats on your venture - the tottering steps into the domain of publishing. What you present would be critically analysed and you would have the real image on how people look at you and take you on for your faults, foibles and failures.  

Bouquets will be far and few.

A writer writes - from experiences, visualization and imagination. It could be freewheeling.  It's a natural progression from a void to a crescendo. 

He presents from the innards. There would be passion and  emotion that drive him.

He derives from an urge that prods him on. 

The product is unveiled.

Then the writer looks for the brickbats. 

They reveal what people have truly in mind.

They advise you where you have erred according to their perception. 

And you are happy the brickbats have been turned on.

It helps you to look at you from their eyes. Something you cannot activate from within.

A true revelation that alone can make you blossom.

...............................

The  earlier post on JDaniel had evoked a few excellent responses.

I present them.

The first was a phone call from Satyan J Kairana

who became the Principal of St Thomas a couple of years later.

He said the post was a true reflection of JDaniel and he was happy he could go through that.

Incidentally Satyan had won the President of India's award for the best teacher while he was in service. 

To me,  JDaniel certainly had deserved such an award. 

But I am sad no one had recognised him though he never craved for awards or recognition.

However, he remains and lives on in the minds of the countless number of his students  who have become what they are solely due to the sca he extended with love and affection. 

.................

Quoting the  second  from Sheila Paul, eldest daughter of JDaniel

"Thank you Lalachayen for this beautiful account as a tribute to Pappa. I was not aware of some of the details and have only a vague memory of some. This is precious for all of us. ❤️ I always wonder how we all lived so very happily in that house in HNR , always welcoming extended families who visited us. It was such a joy for us when we had someone like you, Saji and some of our other cousins and their children stayed with us for a longer period. Those were the lovely care free days, made so by Pappa and Ammachi’s strong faith and trust in our Lord that - Lord will provide.🙏🏻 My siblings always remember that in our childhood, our parents always made sure that we felt that we were on top of the world ! 🙏🏻 Thank you  for remembering Pappa so fondly on this day."

...........................

The third is from a brilliant and highly competent person who has made it big in the world 

"Lalachayen, 

Appreciate your post on Danichayen. He was a much loved person in the family. He also opened his house to me. 

In all this praise, I fail to understand why a paragraph with negative connotation was dedicated to my father. It is out of place and unwarranted. Also fail to understand the irony of accepting Koshi Paul as  Babychayen but having a problem with J Daniel becoming Danichayen. 

Respectfully request every one on this group to refrain from talking negatively about anyone who has already gone on ahead of us.

Sorry if I offended you, but no rejoinder or justification is warranted."

...........

I loved  the virulent reaction. It reminded me of the commands of an era long gone by.

And as I said in the post, JDaniel became 'Uncle' to us solely because he wanted it that way. We obeyed him. It was unfair if anyone wanted us to disobey him. 

As for 'Babychayan' instead of Koshy Paul, a name I had not mentioned anywhere in my script, there had been no irony. We had been structured by our parents to address him 'Babychayan'.  We were just obeying our dear parents on that when we were in an impressionable age.

......................

While I thanked Satyan J Kairana profusely over phone, I had sent a 'Thank you message' for two responses. I left the fourth alone.

.....................

There had been a fourth response as well.

 It is from an eminent person who has done extremely well in life

"Pappa felt the use of uncle had a very distant western feel to it and trained us to address all his family as Mummy, Pappa, achayen, ammama and so on... that was his love for each member of his family which he wanted us to feel and convey too. 

Danichayen loved each of us as his own,  we spent quite a few summers with him at honnavar or hubli,  wonderful times of joy  and laughter. 

Appachen and ammachi were with us in Hubli before Appachen went to be with the Lord, ammachi continued with us in Secunderabad too, much after Anish was born too, till she said she wants to go to honnavar.  She lived for a year or so thereafter under the loving care of Danichayen and Animmama. 

Truly exemplary and inspiring"

...................

I am indeed happy there have been frank responses.

That too from people of high intellect.

I am grateful for that

I look forward to more and more responses.

...........................

EMBRACE AND ACCEPT

 

Embrace and accept yourself just as you are. 

The process of acceptance  has to extend beyond appearance to how you view the physical toll of your work. 

Never feel insecure on your appearance.

 Remind yourself, the downturn in appearance when you work hard with relentless effort, is not a flaw at all.