GOLDEN AGE COMING

In time for the 61st Independence day of our beloved country Abinav bindra got us a gold medal in the 2008 Beijing Olympics effectively breaking the jinx of a country a with a billion people going with no gold for years .
For the twenty ninth Olympics our hockey team the eternal medal grabber of yesteryears couldn’t even get into the to the olympics as they failed to qualify with their dismal performance !
The last gold we got was in Moscow in 1980 which had depleted participation due to US led boycott
After that one bronze each came courtesy Leander Peas and weight lifter Karnam Malleswari and one silver in Athens in 2004 from shooter Rathore who incidentally led our team consisting of 57 atheletes and 47 officials in the opening ceremony in Beijing now .
Of course hope stills runs eternal to our other team members like Peas ,Mahesh Bhupathi ,Sania Mirza ,our other shooters like Rathore ,wretlers ,boxers ,judokas atheletes like Anju george .
These are early days and it is a warm feel to know that one coveted gold is already in the kitty and more could come be it bronze or silver .
Like the IT scene and our enterprising industrialists India seems to be on the rise .the elephant is on the move and there is no more stopping it .
It was Sri Dorabji Tata who financed three runners to Antwerp Olympics from Pune for he felt they were as good as any .A year after 1929 when India got its first olympic gold for hockey Dorabjee had foreseen Indias decline in sports ,

he wrote “India is not yet ripe for the International Olympic Games. The love of such things is not ingrained here. There are so many communities, so many different religions, so many languages and dialects, so many different customs and ideals, that it is almost impossible to select a national team.” Political intrigues still plague Indian sport and the future is still uncertain but for now at least, somewhere, Sir Dorabji must be smiling.
With Independence there has been more politics in sport than sport itself ,selecting teams and training them were decided by burecrats and politicians who vied for a place in such bodies and successfully demolished our success in sports .

A study conducted for the dismal performance of India in Olympics declared lack of infrastructure and social mobility for not reaching out to talents in rural pockets as a cause for it .
With sponsorships and money flowing in and a sporting community that wants nothing but the best things are looking better .
So in spite of our politicians , like the IT industry , our sports too would shine just like India would in a decade as predicted by our beloved former president Dr Abdul Kalam Azad .
Our national anthem rose into the Chinese skies on the day we got the Gold
is there more proof needed than this !

( hope the leftists don’t declare a hartal for that )

rain in Al ain

Rains are no big deal in Kerala specially in this time of the year ,but to me in Al Ain it was a rare occurence .

In the past one year I had been here I had glimpsed a tiny drizzle once which piffled before it started so It was a delightful surpise to me when I heard distant thunder rumble today evening ,I ran down from the hospital cloistered in claustrophobic central AC to watch it as it is !

and what a sight it was ,cloudy and dark the skies broke into a heavy downpour on the parched grounds with thunder and lightening the works !

my mobile was out for the rare shots .

this summer had been exhaustingly hot touching 50 degrees centigrade and scorching like a furnace ,Al Ain luckily was not on the coast so there was no sweating as humidity was low but it compensated that with heat more than Dubai or Abudhabi,

so it is in winter too for it could get really cold .

Summer in the UAE is when people escape for thier holidays back to thier hometowns and all flights are overbooked and overcharged .workers are given compulsory rest for three hours in the noon or else they would fall down like overgrown dates !

For many of us living in ac capsules of buildings and cars the heat was felt only in transit from these points but it was really felt then .

the dates were bountiful in the many palm trees that lined the roads in neat lines ,they hung ripe and colourful .Some were angry red some burnished and some golden yellow .

The government which owns most of the palm trees encourage people to pluck them if they wanted being careful not to spoil the trees .

As one bit into a golden yellow date and its sweetness spread its honey like taste into the buds and bliss filled one .

some gave a rancid after taste some were gritty ,some smooth and velvetty.

there are more than 40 million palm trees in the UAE whcih is one the worlds lagest producers and exporters .

In august the Liwa festival is a great auction centre for dates .

dates are nutritious as they give more than 3000 calories /kg whicle a banana has only 920 and an orange around 420

Palm trees line all roads and they are planted in prescision ,full grown trees are brought from nursery and planted in new areas and in days they bloom !

Dates are free from cholesterol and have very low level of fats(0.2%) and sodium .

Quran mentions the birth of Jesus in Chapter 19, verses 23 - 26.
"And the pains of childbirth drove her to the trunk of a date-palm. She said: "Would that I had died before this, and had been forgotten and out of sight!"
Then [the babe Jesus or Gabriel] cried unto her from below her, saying: "Grieve not! Your Lord has provided a water stream under you;
"And shake the trunk of date-palm towards you, it will let fall fresh ripe-dates upon you."
"So eat and drink and be glad, and if you see any human being, say: 'Verily! I have vowed a fast unto the Most Beneficent (Allah) so I shall not speak to any human being this day.'"

and so the hot days will linger till late september when it becomes cooler and then it is six months of cool times ( my favourite )............

kalyana rathri

The early eighties in Kerala villages had darkness falling on it by dusk,
with the rare few low voltage bulbs hardly dispelling them ,
but a marriage house stood out like a sore thumb lit by bright hissing petromaxes .
The evening before the marriage was importnat in Nair families as close relatives and friends would come with thier gifts to eat pazham ,mixture ,chayya combo ,
there was singing of old hindi songs late into the night ,
the youngsters of the house were all in thier own mood of enjoyment as they quickly downed thier long saved pegs in dark corners
It was one such evening in Tanalur before my cousin got married and we were a bunchful of bachanalians looking for adventure ,
Krishnettan from the gulf had arrived the previous day and was bountiful with his gifts of the best scotch for the occcasion .
Suddenly somebody asked
"has kuttan come ? "
"no he will come by the executive at 9pm and we will pick him up in the station ,
"who said so ?
he hasnt made any promise in his letter "
lets go to kocholikara and pick him up, it would be fun ."
Telephones were also rare those days leave alone mobiles
It was also another regular happening during marriage eves ,while elders were busy like ants the youngsters found some excuse to go on small trips , as there always was a car with driver available and it wasnt so all the time .
so we trooped in into the rickety ambassador the car was packed like sardines as the news spread we were going on a trip .
"chandretta let us go to otappalam to pick up kuttan "
" Entha makkale ee samayatho ? "( at this time ? )
" of course it will just take 2 hrs and another 2 hrs to return we could be back by midnight and nobody would be wiser "this from Unni doing his predegree and who never wore anything but a mundu
Gulfetan gave the go ahead "chandra varu poga kutiyalku oru rasmayirikkam "( let us go chandra it will be fun for these guys )
so chandran drove the car into the darkeness ,soon we reached the town and the railway station ,one of us said
"say why dont we wait for the executive what if kuttan comes in ? "
"if he does we shall come back so whats the problem '
this was universally accepted
the trip was a must and kuttan was just an excuse
"chandretta vitto "( right ahead chandretta )
soon rumbustous songs lifted the mood as we cruised along in the pleasant night within half an hour some had slept off and snores punctuated the converstaions the scotch was having its effect .
The outskirts of ottapalam came and a sober chandrettan woke us up
"now what where do i go ? "he asked
"chandreta kuttans house is in panamana south ask someone "
chandretan went into a tea shop and asked for directions
we had to go another 10km and turn left if it is south panamana or right if it is north panamana
nobody knew the correct way ,so we just tossed a coin and asked him to go to south panamana !
These were really remote village areas with vast paddy fields and it was rare to find anyone even at daytime and at night it was like the moon .
The junction was marked by a salooon and a teashop both tightly closed and we turned to south pananama
The road petered out after a few kilometres into a dirt raod and finally it was unmotorable
Chandretan called it a day "I am stopping here ,I feel sleepy so Iam sleeping for some time in the car ,you guys go and find out the house and bring him and we shall go back "he declared in a tone that didnt expect any arguments
"but chandretta where ?"
go ahead on the other side of paddy field there are a few lights ask someone "
By now we were all sober and a little apprehensive ,
the fields stretched into eternity and the narrow embankment we walked was thick with grass and weeds it started drizzling and we became wet and miserable ,
the lights were in the distance as pinpoints and were just glowing and later fading funny indeed ,but with no alternative we walked ahead ,
" we shouldnt have come i told let us wait for the executive didnt I "
this from the youngest in our group ,
"come baby dont be afraid it is another adventure "this from gulfetan
and we walked on and on with wary steps worried of slithering objects and snakes ,frogs were croaking and it was deathly dark ,
slowly the lights were coming closer it was from a large space with trees and looked like bonfires .
maybe someone was burning thier rubbish ,we thought but there was also a strange booming sound ,montonous and weird ,and this was increasing in intensity ,rumbling and machine like drones ,it was unearthly and we all shivered a bit ,
And then we knew ,
oh God !this was a cremation ground and it was the pyres we were heading for
we were spellbound and shocked
suddenly someone called !!!
"arathu ivide ,aradda !( who is it here ? )
nengala nengalu kocholikaraka kuttana thedi (it is us in search of kuttan of kocholikara house )
ethu kocholikara evide oru veedum illa smasanamanu po po ( no houses here get lost this is the cremation ground )
and then the voice came out of the darkeness with a chootu in his hand he was dark with an unruly beard the watchman cum dom
" get away from here those are wild pigs you hear and they kill remember "
so that was the booming sound what a place
we just turned back and walked with no aim in the rain after seemingly hours we saw some houses and managed to rouse the locals and asked for our house
we were told to go in the same direction and in 10 minutes we reached the house ,only to find kuttan had left long back in the executive and to be tiraded to have made a foolish trip to such a place in midnight .
we trudged back to a much relaxed chandretan who drove us back we reached at dawn and quitely slept for some time to wake up and attend the marriage with red eyes
"where were you idiots last night why you didnt come to station to pick me in the station ? "
this from kuttan !!!!
( This anecedote was recounted by my cousin recently I wasnt there at all )

shilpa is twelve years

Thirteen years have rolled away ,it seems it was just yesterday that our daughter Shilpa slipped away ,

She lived for eleven years in a world of silence bearing her problems with a patience unexplainable ,a benign smile on her face sullened by her recurrent problems .

For us it was eleven years of mixed emotions ,

devastating the day we knew that she would be a different child ,

eleven years of hope and despair in turns .

We chased specialists and superspecialists many of whom who were ignorant and unhelpful and at times blatantly cruel in thier predictions ,

From nonchalance to ridicule we faced all as it came on and off ,but in the midst of all this her smile ,innocence ,charm and patience gave us joy .

Her small achievements gave us immense pleasure .

There were many who made the day for us ,

the rare few who had empathy and understood us ,

Even the few who avoided us in silence ,as they felt we would be hurt ,

We can never forget the day we took her to a special school in Cochin for the first time and the special educator told us what could be achieved by training ,so temple visits gave way to intervention meausres and its differences

And then one fine day

( no not fine at all )

she who opened the world of special children to us left us in vacum ,

In the year that followed Shilpas school was born though she died

It required commitment and missionary zeal and only a mother could have it

Today with more than 140 disabled attending its training centre and special school in a well equipped building from 6months to 42 years ,it is an achievement indeed .

Some have come and gone like Shilpa did ,but many have grown in our school ,they come in the morning from thier homes in the bus and van from different places and spend the day as per thier need in special education ,early intervention ,vocational rehab and physiotherapy .

the parents are given a special place with thier association taking several responsibilities in running the shool ,the society members contribute thier mite and comitted volunteers are an integral part of the Shilpa family .

shilpa school is known for its annual days in the presence of celebrities

our children perform with joy trained by thier teachers ( music teacher is visually handicapped ) .It is an eyeopener to the public to know that such children with broken bodies and minds can be creative though differently

The school remembers Shilpas love for travel by its frequent picnics and day tours

the stories are many........

when Tony was brught by his mother for the first time she wanted some poison for her and her son as he was getting constantly beat by the neighbours for his naughy acts and the angry welts on his back was the proof ,after coming to shcool he mellowed into a calm & polite lad

and stunned his neighbours ,just goes to show how much attention and love could do for these children ,

some parents have more than one child who are disabled ,

Sadiq ( name changed ) working hard carrying water jars up tall flats in hot UAE remembers his children and his poor family as he does his work and hoping to see them in the once in a two year leave he has ,

Reddy a student works hard in sticking covers ( the bigger children get payed for thier work ) as he wants to earn more to buy a frock for his niece like any other uncle

jill is split from her husband and with a special child to add to her burden ,the school sponsors her to do an one year course and she is absorbed as a teacher ,

parents and siblings are motivated to do courses and join the school ,some of the poorer parents join as helpers

and in this this twelve years Shilpa is looking to its next dream of a bigger centre in its new land ,a building which would have a parent training ,resisdential and respite centre and bigger vocational centres

shilpa left at eleven years but was instrumental in leaving behind a memory which would last for ever

pranavs poems

Pranav my nephew battled a brain tumour and lost it last year .....

since then Pranav left us to the unknown

children are meant to outlive us but the rare few do it the other way round leaving an eternal emptiness in our hearts .

my heart goes to his parents with whom I can empathise

but

pranav was different in all senses ,he was cerebral ,( read his poems )

he was understanding and bore his suffering silently so as not to hurt his loved ones

he left behind his thoughts in the little time he had by these words

this post is dedicated to dear pranav .......wherever he is

my rule

where there is pain it has to be beared ( borne )

you cannot run away

so fight it like a soldier
dont tell others

Especially your mother

(because she will cry a river )

We must fight everything

to the end to the maximum

DROPS

A drop of sunshine and

a drop of rain

mixed together

makes a drop of beauty

A drop of beauty

and a drop of joy

mixed together

makes a drop of hope

A drop of hope and

a drop of love

mixed together

makes a mother and father

The weed
There is a little weed

In my head
It is not a seed
or a bead
It made me fumble
and made me tumble
It made me mumble
but I did not crumble
Now I grumble
I want the weed
Now out of my head
As I don't want
to become as muddle-headed
as could be

The waiting
Waiting and waiting
Is such a bore
Waiting for my turn
waiting for the doctor
waiting for the door to open
waiting for the omelette
waiting for everything
It's such a bore
you must understand
with nothing to do
but look into the blue
Now I feel like
changing the clock
around it's core

Clock
I have a little clock
In my tummy
Which always asks at 4'o Clock
For something yummy
It's a little clock
It's my hungry alarm clock.

Moth
My mother ran last night
After a moth
To set it free
The moth flew past
Into the curtain cloth
To get free
Little did it understand
Had it sat still
It would have been free.

My Friend
I have a new friend
A radio therapist at Apollo Hospital
To patients she tends
With a smile that can't be missed
She always speaks to me
While I wait impatiently
I know she goes
To lunch at 1.30
But she comes
In time for my therapy
I have a new friend
And she is called
Mary Grace Vineeta
A radio therapist at Apollo Hospital.

Rage

I think I have a problem
I keep going into a rage
It feels like a mountain range
Falling down like a page
It's not my image
Life is just a fake
It is swatting everybody
I just swat it back

Life
Life is so strange
You don't know
When it will change
And you don't know
When you will be disarranged

April Fool's Day
Dr. Dr. Ductson was walking one day.
I saw him talking to strangers that day.
And then I knew that burgalaries wil happen that day.

I called the cops that very minute and told.
They came running down that road
And caught them and put them on hold.
They then found it was an April Fool's joke.
My Dad's very angry with me because
He had to pay a 500 Rupee note.

The Holiday
I'm off to Norway,
A land far away,
For my birthday,
On 17th of May.
It's Norway's national day.
It’s the land of the midnight sun ,

I'm going to have a lot of fun,
Eating goodies by the ton.
I'm going to see the King & Queen,
And the people scream
A scene I see in my dream.

People
People say and do many things
Some are nice,
Some are like mice.
Some are curious,
Some make you furious.

Some are beautiful,
Some are spiteful.
Some make you cry,
Some are sly.
Some you want to meet,
Some you want to beat.
Some make you laugh,
And some laugh at you.
How strange.
They don't know
It doesn't take long
For what happened to me
To happen to them
Let's see who has
The last laugh.

My Brother
I made a box
With my building blocks
To put my dinosaurs.
But i had to put them on the side
As the box wasn't too wide
I then sat down and cried.

Just then my brother came along,
Seeing me cry, he sat and played a game
Soon I forgot all about the box.

Life is just the same
When the good things come
The bad ones just fade.

Exams

I find my brother's exams
Very very boring.
He is all the time
Shut up in his room
Preparing and studying.
\He has very little time
To roll and jump in our room
Shouting and playing.
I am waiting for them to end.
And the holidays to start.
By then my RT's will end
And happy days will start.

COLLECTION
My brother collects coins,
Some are bright and new,
Some are old and with no clue.
I too want to collect,
But for now I collect points,
For being good and quiet,
My bother gets his coins from people,
I get my points from God.

Colours of my dream
The colours of my dream,
Are like a Solar beam.
Blues and yellows shot with green,
Reds and violets drowned in cream.

They work like a team,
Fall on my weed and make it scream.
Soon it will never be seen
On the screen

Summer Holiday
I'm going away
With my family
For a three-day summer party
We are going to a resort
On the hill-top
Nearby is where the gods fought.
My family
Is my army
It's a twelve member company.
I shall have lots of dreamy fun
Seeing the blue skies,
the deer and the grass,
the moon shine
the sun blaze
and all the happiness around.

My Grandmother

My granny is very sweet,
and she is very neat.

She is very soft and cuddly,
and the food she makes is lovely.
She looks at me and starts crying,
And then she looks again and start smiling.

I want her to smile and smile
And never cry, my darling Ammamma

ME
I told my mother,
If she sits on the other side,
And I turn the table,
Then the tables will be turned.

But will it really turn so?
I don't know.
I looked into the mirror,
And a funny moon face looked back.
I wished I could put it on the rack
Or cut it up with a scissor.

Going to school and playing around,
Are all things passed.
I am a prisoner in my home
Hopefully these things won't last.

Pirate Ship (written post radiotherapy )
I am the captain of a pirate ship,
We are sailing the seas on a trip.
Sometimes the sea is calm and quite,
At othertimes it's like a monster out for a bite

One day as I was swinging from the top,
With my laser gun on my hip.
I saw an octopus pop,
And come slowly to my ship.

It put out it's long tentacles,
Around the ship to break it.
I quickly shot thirty rounds of crackles,
With my laser gun to crumble it.

Now my ship was safe and sound,
But it had a tear and a rip.
So I had to turn around,
To go to port to mend it's tip.

The danger has passed for now,
I am being towed home for now.
But for how long I don’t know,
Maybe till the next monster comes along

My Aunt
I have an aunt,
Who loves to shop and shop,
And when she goes on a hunt,
No-one can make her stop.

She shops for hours,
For many things in many colours,
She shops till her legs ache,
and her stomach bakes.

She is nice and sweet and ready for a ball,
A friendly beautiful person
But when she sees a mall,
She gets transformed into another person.

Then she is there now,
And lost the next second,
thats my aunt for you,
the shopper who can never be found,
unless she is bound.

Cool- Cousins
My thoughts flow,
But sometimes it's like a blow,
Because it tries to flow back,
Which i love to do so.

I had a lovely time,
A happy time,
A jolly fun-filled time,
with my cool-cousins.
I swam in the pool,
Acted around like a fool,
sat in the cool,
with my cool-cousins.

Then the time,
Became a sad time
A parting time
with my cool-cousins.

May be the scanning time will stop,
On the hill-top.
Then i will scan time in a pot,
With my cool-cousins.

Pleo
My aunt gave me a pet dino,
His name is Pleo
The minute I saw him
I loved him so.

She told me to pet him
She told me to train him
She told me love him
And told me to keep him.

I have tried and tried
I have tried my best.
I have tried to do all
But I really really love him.

It's not easy,
But I know what to do,
I will give him back,
Because I love him so

Time

Just for a second
Will time wait for me?
Will it really wait?

For a minute,
For an hour,
For a day,
For a week,

For a month,
or For a year
Just for me.
May be if you are calm and quiet
Time will rest,
Rest is the best.
Espicially if you have a pest.

Nature
Here is May,
Summer is here to stay.
The cuckoos call delightfully
Mangoes fall with a thud loudly

The sun shines brightly
The flowers bloom beautifully
Leaves fall to the ground so

Butterfly and bees buzz merrily.
Raintree flowers carpet the ground completely
Children play around happily
Everywhere the ripe fruits smell lovely
Houses are filled with happy sounds dreamily
Man and nature are joined together nicely.

Beautiful nature
Untouched by the world

Cochin visit

I had been to Cochin recently

to see my family

I spent my timer playing

with my cool cousins

I went to Naval base

to see my cousin and race

but he was in a sun daze

and just wanted to get out of the place

Cochin has green fields

blue green waters

big temples ,narrow roads

and lots of bridges

for my birthday

I sailed away in a boat

still I spent my time playing

with my cool cousins

THREE BIRTHDAYS

Long long ago,
In the Land of Birthdays,
There lived Lord Grow,
The King of Birthdays.

One day he lost his glasses,
And fell on the road.
A big pile papers
Fell out of his pockets into the mouth of a toad.

Lord Grow was very upset,
He had lost something very important.
The list of all the Special Children,
Who were to get an extra special b'day.

He didn’t know what to do.
He thought and thought and
Thought and thought
But still didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly, Lord Grow jumped,
He decided he would just
pick a name out of a bag
And give the child a day to rememeber.

He pulled my name out of the bag
Written on a rag,
And decided to give me
Just wait and see.

It was really really wonderful
To have three b'days in a row,
One at Swamimalai, One at Cochin
And one in a house boat at Alleppey.

So thank you Lord Grow,
For giving me Three b'days in a row,
For making me blow,
32 candles in one go.

Return to Home

Ones own becomes more desirous when one is away from it ,so is Kochi to me these days .The Gulf for the malayalee is never far away and is almost like a neighbourhood ,in three hours one could be back to good old Gods own country .
In thr Gulp too one would almost trip on a mallu ,they existed in abundance .
From grocery shops ,hair cutting saloons ,shopping complexes ,to computer savvy IT professionals the mallu spreads his vocation .
The difference is he turns into a busy bee once he leaves Keralas pristine shores ,no time for him to ruminate on hartals ,neither for croaking zindabads or walking behind his hallowed leaders ,he has a purpose here to make his quarter and do his job ,he does it well and has his fun .
How does this same man or woman change coulor with the whiff of malluland ,what is there in its atmosphere that tempt him to laziness ? these are questions on which phd papers could well be written on .
Questions which have foxed historians over time
The very same mallu who spits out his betel stain on the walls of the KSRTC bus stand or throws his plastic bagged rubbish on the roadside wouldn’t dare to do this in foreign shores ,the very mallu who would meticulously clip his seat belt when he switches the ignition may do nothing of the kind here .
The reason is the no nonsense approach to law and order in those countries .
Follow the rules and live peacefully is the dictum and one gets used to it and even enjoys it after some time
The penchant for mallus to unite to form unions is an inborn one and sadly is the cause for Keralas dismal present ,
where else can you find workers getting nokku coolie
That is you get paid for seeing ( nokka ) the work done by others because the union demands so
Where else can you find attimari terrorists who quote their price for unloading and loading like Caribbean pirates ?
The laws ban this but the practice continues unabated and none dare to question
Another banned item is the bandh ,by juggling its name to hartal and hijacking Gandhijis term for its unworthy causes the present parties use it as their best weapon ,one could declare hartal for anything ,maybe even if the chief minister sneezed hard or the opposition leader farted bad.
Declaration of hartal is welcomed by everyone ,a paid holiday for many, it is a day of lethargy and living it up
And the mallu continues his hartals
Another thing one misses when not in kerala is its rubbish ,I mean of the kind strewn on the roadside ,Kochi is known for the accumulation of this to break records in quantity and duration when it lies in pungent purefaction
Also one misses the roads and non existent pavements
With metro becoming a fading hope the city of kochi is choked with traffic as shortsighted planners play Neros fiddle
But with all this it is nostalgia to be back into the confusion
It is great to be with ones people and friends After all nothing like home what ?

Pot bellies and Holes

Holidays are the best times to grow ones pot ! ( not of the smoking kind )
I meant the vertical protuberance in a mans middle that surfaces to spoil his shape ,
the vestigeal begginings of such a mound in me existed in the subterranean always ,without a need for an archealogical expedition to unravel its truths ,but it began to show itself in full form during the recent time off .
what with the loved ones feeding the man who starved in the desert with a vengenance and the taste buds succumbing to the last temptation it grew defiantly .
cosmetic conservatism was not its forte
soon the profile protruded out of camoflauging costumes and settled down for a long tenure .
"Well ,well havent you grown since I last saw you ? "
snide remarks with a snigger were in the offing , often coming not from Milind somans of six packs but from pot owners with previous oscars .
welcome to the tribe .
Join the gang .
more the merrier dearie
finally a sense of homecoming tends to fall on the new members as acceptance sets in .
The pot always tends to give you a look of somnalence ,of a laziness that was bound to go along with it ,you couldnt appear to be fast and slick with one , it wouldnt suit its company at all
and losing a pot isnt as easy as gaining one ,of course liposuction was an easy option if one could afford it ,one could also emulate the famous Sivagi Ganesan during his obese days ( later in life he looked lean and bearded and better than his younger days ) it seems they used to make him lie down on the studio floor to tie a huge belt to contain his middles to a reasonable shape ,probably his ruddy face in many movies were signs of apoplexy from the said belt tightening as he cavorted with fatter heroines .
But there once was a golden era for pot owners where it was actually considered as a sign of prosperity ,
what is life withhout a pot ?
but sadly those days are just a distant memory .
Yoga ,jogging and push ups were all for pot destruction but men with pots werent generally amused by these exertions .
They are for those without pots !
Strangley the little pet I developed this holiday grew unhampered but rhymed well with another pot special to Gods own country ,the pot holes in the monsoon roads .
On a recent trip to Trissur i bounced on my moorings feeling like a maritian explorer as i navigated a maze of ups and downs with gusto .
the road planners surprise drivers with sadistic diversions acute turnings and highway gymnastics in the midst of construction rubble and poor lighting .
the peoples government hardly has time to think of roads
they have so much on thier hands ,poor things ,
Golf clubs and inherent bars to be barnooshed .
Munnar villas to be mazooled ,
Hartals to be organised and managed and ,sundry matters like maintenance of roads cannot be put on thier way .
The proletarian population always anticipated roads of communism with bumps ,they were symbols to mark its revolutions with .
they existed to remind us of poverty and hunger
Superhighways would corrupt our socialistic souls
mirror surfaced roads reeked of vulgar capitalism and werent fitting for the comrades .
So the roads would continue as it is
and my pot bounced on the pots in mounting exuberance