A mind and tongue of my own

Being twelve months old, i had an intuition that articulation is necessary. After some meditation i decided to attempt to utter my first humanly comprehend able word "aammma" , bearing in my tiny mind the tribute due to my mother and to bring elephantine happiness to her. And to make my little life simple, a universal addressing system, a method people would not mind in the least being addressed as. But these adults! They were all excited and one could easily be led to believe
that they were all instrumental in delivering sight to a blind man. What is worse, each one of them, in their fit of animated joy, decided to teach me to utter at least five different words of their choice. Not to mention, they were all names of what they wanted me to address them as. But of course, i have a mind of my own. So what if it is still developing? It is functional and thinks. I decided chose the word that i attempt to utter. My second word ? "tractor" which i uttered with full glee, much to the surprised disappointment of all the determined adults.

Srivaishnava symbols

For anybody else who browsed the net for the srivaishnava symbols and couldnt find a decent one ... please feel free to use this.

What is in the name?

Football, should not be far from being classified as a disease. During world cup, it becomes an epidemic or even a pandemic that nobody would want a cure for. To make it sound less alarming, lets stick to 'epidemic'. When the epidemic is at its peak, the behaviour of human kind reaches proportions that becomes difficult to explain when the phase finally passes, well, temporarily. But it does leave residue. Sometimes, for a lifetime. I am sure, like me, there are many who are painted for life by the color of this residue.

It was during those times, when the epidemic was spreading through all strata of the society, transcontinent, unstoppably. Those times, when i was safe in my mothers womb. Those times, when i was not even aware of myself. Those times, when nobody knew if i am male or female. Those times, when the excitement of the infecting epidemic had clearly ruled over the excitement of the nearness of my arrival into the world. Precisely during this time, during the heat of the pre-quarter finals, an uncle of mine, about whom i was clearly unaware of, who was consumed by the delirious infection, decided to give me a name, a tag, even befire my parents had even given it a thought.

At that point in my life and his, he decided to label me with the pet name of a popular epidemic causing footballer!

Even before i could see what the world outside loods like, i had to shoulder the burden of the thought that i would have to carry the name of a celibrity in the outside world! You can well imagine that, being safe inside the womb, I had neither resources nor the chance to either react or protest. I closed my eyes and tried to teach myself to accept what was being pushed on me. Even my mother was clueless on what the tag would be!

On the day i arrived, it was imeperatively pronounced by him, proudly, as though i were a child of his imagination , "zizou"!

Oh! the burden of that name. I have just about learned to sit down and i make all efforts to kick the ball whenever one is given to me. An effort which is sincerely hope will bring joy to the one who chose to give me a name and make him proud of his judgmental abilities. (not to mention that i was also physically resembling the star in that i was almost bald at birth) while i could not care less that the Star himself is unaware of my existence.

A Wait

I await.

Like the dry parched earth that awaits the downpour of monsoon,
Like the cold winter air that waits for the warmth of the sun,
Like the lonely sailing ship that longs for the sight of land,
Like the heavy dark evening sky that waits for relieving moonlight,

I await.

Like the old brass lamp that again longs to smell of oil,
Like the hinge of the squeaking gate that aches for good grease,
Like the cracked cup that yearns to hold water again,
Like the forgotten easel that hopes for a creative canvas,

I await, to hold the hand that has left me.