Alma mater memory #1

 "The story of my half relationship"

  

We were in eighth grade.

My Tamil teacher came into the class. The chairs were usually arranged like in an amphitheatre. Every day, before the class commenced, he used to sign our handwriting notes for a perceptible indication that we did not, would not and could not change the date and show the same next day or anything like that to skip those two pages of misery.

In the next few minutes, the blackboard proclaimed, ”Thirukural” in bold letters. I sat neither in the first bench nor at the back, but somewhere in the mid of that serpentine arrangement in the left corner & I recollect seriously narrating the Harry Potter & the Order of Phoenix to my bestie, rather excited at that too. While the whole class went silent all of a sudden, my laugh amidst that silence seemed as hysterical as a hyena. I was immediately apprehended by my teacher as if I had done a criminal offence & I had some questions thrown at me.

I threw the right answers back at him, but you know school teachers! So then he directed me to the corner of that same serpentine row & that’s when we met. Our acquaintance began to influence each other’s life. 

He was in my class since I joined there, but we had never spoken. I just knew him sporadically, a guy with black hair, incandescent from three to four tablespoons of coconut oil, wearing specs halfway down the nose probably and possibly confusing the speaker if he was looking through the glass or not. A thread ran around his neck with a pendant carved to resemble some Hindu deity, and one black & another orange coloured thread tied in the right wrist, the ID card, hanging near his tummy, unlaced shoes with white chalk dust as a superficial layer. I just couldn’t bear that unaccustomed silence & deliberately broke it by asking that guy, who had been writing sincerely since the class began,

“So, you take notes?"

He grinned.

I had no choice other than to wait for his reply.

He then showed me the page and apparently he had been doodling since the class started.

I sniggered and he shrugged.         

Mischievousness was an understatement when it came to us. Our thoughts Coalesced and that drove our relationship much smoother than anyone can imagine. He was equally talented but never cared much to write his home works or spend few hours for studying. 

As it happens, every mediocre student(on grade basis which I‘ve never been a fan of)was allotted to one who regularly does home works & I happened to be the one pointed to him by Mrs.Ramadevi, my class teacher.

I don’t know what worked, I couldn’t put my finger on it till now, but he fetched his first Ivory card that year. It was really a memory worth remembering for us, that even today he ironically replies, “Yes ma’am”, when I advise him regarding studies.

We were not that formal friends either to exchange positive affection all the time. We fought very bad, pinched each other, tore each other’s notebooks, threw things or played cricket with each other’s things, sometimes hid things so that the other will have to go through a lot of trouble to get that back.

We made many great memories together on which I could literally write a book. I suppose that idiot would kill me after that, but I don’t really care.

In fact, I never believed in a boy-girl friendship until we happened. According to me, a boy who never had a chance to become a boyfriend would still remain as her bestie meant, he owned good traits with unconditional love. A girl will not bring herself close to a boy unless she knows the guy in and out. At least I, most certainly will not.

He has an elder brother and I have a younger sister. And we have always felt blessed to have a sibling on opposite extremes like us to enjoy all the fights and cherish the special love we have on each other. We were not just friends but, neither were nor will be committed because both had a different focus at each stage of our lives.

And I am damn sure that one will have to die and come back to understand what relation we possess in this world, where everything is conditional including love.

This post, I dedicate it heartily to his future wife and my future husband. 

I am sharing a half relationship story at BlogAdda in association with #HalfGirlfriend

For those wondering, we got certified in ivory coloured cards, if we got 90+ in all subjects.

With smiles...

Swathi

(Investing myself completely in the art of living)

Note: This blog post has won the title and gifts of the contest #HalfGirlfriend conducted by  BlogAdda and the detailed information is available on the Acknowledgement page of my blog. 
Click here to see winners in the page of blogadda.

Mastering the habits

Everything that comes into our life should either stay with us and become our strength, or it should leave us and make us free. It should never stay with us and become our weakness.

Haven’t we heard about Ivan Pavlov’s effect?

Pavlov used to ring a metronome at the same time he fed his dogs. After a while, the dogs which earlier salivated only when they saw and ate their food would now begin to salivate only when the metronome sounded, even if no food were present. Can a man suffer like Pavlov’s dogs? But in reality, that’s what habits are!

"If I don’t smoke I can’t do potty; without something to read, I can’t sit on the pot; If I miss any morning tea I will develop a headache; if I don’t have a banana in the night I can’t sleep; when I am tensed I need a drink; no matter what happens I will run home to watch my favourite mega serial, else hell will break lose…"

 Ring the bell &  I will salivate is what we mean by all these!   

When something affects us when we don’t get it, it means that it has gained mastery over us. What has gained mastery over us, has gained the mastery over our peace.  The number of external masters, the less peaceful we can be.

 If the newspaper is delayed, it disturbs our peace. If the coffee is not to your specification, it disturbs our peace. When we can’t go to the temple, it affects our peace. Even going to places of worship have become conditioned mechanical response- a habit.

The proof of right living is in the peace that we experience.  Willpower is developed through won’t power. When we find ourself being mastered by our habits which destroy our peace, we should practice the” won’t power”. For one week we should abstain from that which disturbed us. Then, again we have to get back and determine who is going to be mastery over whom, whether your habits on you or you on habits.

Ask the question, “who is the master? “

The number of times, the answer is something or someone outside of you, means you are not having a very peaceful existence. The number of times you feel you are the master, then you are experiencing the all-encompassing peace. Once after realising this fact, I started to take everything and everyone as my choice, and not as my addiction. And at the same time, I started to ask each of my dear ones to allow me to be their strength and not a weakness.

To be succinct....

Habits are mental phonograph records. Repeated indulgence of anything creates a mental blueprint. Whenever one puts a needle of attention on the grooves formed in the mind, it plays back the blueprint. Repetition causes the grooves to deepen and after a while, the record is played automatically over and over again. The mental make-up, the patterns called habit becomes hard set, making it difficult to change. Thus, we become slaves to our habits and lose our freedom, self-discipline and control. 

Either you run your life or your habits run your life, who is the master and who is the slave?

Let's get our perceptions right!

With smiles...

Swathi

(Investing myself completely in the art of living)

What truly matters?

Unremarkably, I’m not that busy as a beaver to be always updating my events on Facebook or tweeting it. But, since a month my works are in need to be prioritized as I was to intervene continuous assessments, model exams, practical examinations etc., from my mandatory curricular activities and so many contests and projects as a blogger and an Indiwriter as well. But, the fact is neither I concentrated on these nor I did a blog post since a month, due to the absence of that kinda “peace of mind”.     

I was dull as dishwater and restless since a week and the most upsetting thing was that neither mom nor dad queried me for what made me like this. Yesterday during suppertime, while I was doodling in the sambhar with my spoon, it was decanted on my hands and I just rubbed it off immediately and muttered,” It all happens to me alone”.

My father shrugged and said, “yeah, it all happens”, and my mother glared at me. Quite after a while, they continued to eat & I murmured again, “Afterall who cares? it all happens to me alone”.

Whoops! No reaction.

I continued, “I don’t know why bad things happen to good people alone”

Pah….I felt that nanoseconds which my VLSI sir explained me for that electron-hole movement in semiconductor devices. I don’t know whether my mom ignores to accept that something bad has happened to me or couldn't digest me addressing myself belonging to good people, she immediately spoke out with the same glare,

“When the question itself is wrong, how do you expect me to answer?.  The question should have been, “What happens to good people when bad things happen to them”, & the reply is, they become better people”, she said.

Thank god! I was provided with a secure reputation that I’m a good person.

She continued.

“It is not our intelligence, but it is the direction of our intelligence that determines the pace of our progress. And our intelligence can be directed, if only we know, how to ask the right questions. Ask,”Why me?” for all your troubles and listen to the response of your intelligence. Ask,  "Why me?",for all your countless blessings and again listen to the voice of your intelligence. Experience the difference. Experience the power of questions. Questions have great power & one right question asked at the right time can change the direction of our intelligence, and thus change the direction of your life.

But when you ask, “Why this is happening to me alone ?”, it sets your intelligence in one direction, which will lead you to self-pity, while in the same scenario ask, “What can I learn from this?” and this will direct you to a higher maturity. It puts you in a more resourceful and responsible position.

If you are feeling stagnant, if you are not growing at the pace at which you can grow, if you are going in the direction that will not lead you to your goals, if you are encountering issues that are repetitive in nature, then be sure, you are not asking the right questions and thus not directing your intelligence right.

Simple questions like, “What next?”, “ How can I do what I am already doing even better “, “What is the worst that can possibly happen” can completely change the way you perceive your life. Our intelligence has an inherent compulsion to answer any question that is posed to it, either by you or by the world. So, choose your questions and direct your intelligence in constructive ways.

 One man asked,” Why is the apple falling down?” and the world has not been the same since ever. So it doesn’t matter if you don’t have all the answers. What truly matters is, do you have the right questions?"

And my father added, “When your leg is broken, we can only support you holding your hands”

The wholesome advice indeed fetched me clarity of thought to get rid of my problems. Sometimes spending time with loved ones gives us ways to get rid of difficulties,  even when we don’t  exactly talk on what we encountered.

With smiles...

Swathi

(Investing myself completely in the art of living)

Unorthodox antidote

My eyes glazed over, mind drifted off, and a pall descended on me. The only convincing thing was that the class was running to be topped off in next five minutes. And I was definitely waiting for that “unorthodox antidote” to boredom in the classroom. (he …he..)

You will be illogically befuddled, but this is me! I’m that one who favours this “unorthodox antidote”, the so-called library in my dictionary! But I’m sure, you’ll not be bemused when you start enjoying the ambience of my college library, that will urge you to be an embodiment of a bibliophile as me!

So, I vacated my classroom for next hour which was little leisure, taking my notepad which I regularly used to the library after the bell clangored throughout the building.

I usually take steps rather than the lift. Then I made my entry recorded and placed my note on that Valerie grain wood furniture & took the book and started to read. 

A few minutes later, I peeped out behind the book & checked her out from the corner of my eyes as she scraped the chair against the floor that heard clearly as the entire milieu was silent. But, then her regular beautiful smile neglected the little irritation I had, due to that unpleasant scraping sound & made me smile back at her. She is indeed my library mate whom I never find elsewhere in the college campus. I again continued to read. 

Two things that made me emphatic to write about my library are the ambience and the innately gracious librarian and his assistants.

I believe in the cognitive error that the students today are finding the classes increasingly intolerable because virtually everything outside of the classroom is on speed dial and obviously the professor’s lecture seems to be in slow motion. While all the regarding studies remain an obscure field, my college library transcends all recoveries that I can think of, to those boredom classes in the afternoon.

It is at its brilliant &radiant beauty and this kinda resplendency creates a setting where we students feel free to pursue the research and study without compromising our privacy & safety. It has several books and merely 10,000 journals and e-journals and beyond that variety of spaces for tranquil study. Librarians and assistant librarians take prodigious and over-the-top attention to protect the physical integrity of these books, journals & other resources which form the intellectual core of my “unorthodox antidote”.

Emphatically, words cannot express my ineffable ecstasy. It is one place where I renovate & refurbish what I was & what I'm going to be in life. It is a fudge-factor for my depth of awareness. It is not only the eternal treasure enduring the memorials, or the trustiest building for the preservation of imperishable resources, it is my love! It ameliorates my mind & thoughts. And my unshaken conviction is that my imagination on paradise will never be without a library. 

My college principal Dr.S.Arumugam has a great endeavour in making my library this much astonishing for us. With the same augmentative exaltation, I waved my hands expressing my sayonara to that girl who drew the attention of mine scraping the chair against the floor, I left the library. My beingness for one more year in my college will definitely garner and hold back many more overwhelming memories in my life in case of the library.

My special thanks to my chief librarian Mr S.Anandaraj M.A., M.LIS., M.Phil who supported me to carry through all the protocols for getting images of my college library, a treasure of knowledge

With smiles...

Swathi

(Investing myself completely in the art of living)