Saturday, August 29, 2009

One day

Mother gave me birth to these dusty Earth;


My first cry raised the cries of these lands,


Opened my windows to a mysterious world;


Saw a few happy people around me!


But, I never cared these people in my life.



 


Waited some seasons to change;


From brown to green; and to yellow..


On that autumn, I walked out from my home;


To stay alone at the top of the dead woods in peace..


But still could hear the cries of these land;


But still could see the tears of the faces.


 


I flee from there to the mountain tops,


Hided in the dark caves for the peace.


But still could hear the cries of these land;


But still could see the tears of the faces.


 


I flied from there to the endless skies.


White clouds fashioned beauty to my eyes,


Stars at night, called on my sky abodes,


They enlightened my gloomy face


There were no cries to hear; no tears to see either.


Loved my new citizenships!


 


One day, shadows of death fell on my heart.


 I fell down from the skies of pride to this modest land.


 


Then,


Walked through the busy streets of my town


Was seeing thousands of alien faces;


Anxious and gloomy; curious and sad


But they never bothered each other!


 


There was an abbey at the corner of the street;


 Among the old men; I just stood in the front,


Chanted with them, the heavenly praises,


“Holy”, Holy”, “Holy”; from my heart.


I never worshiped like before.


 


My Childhood school was at its premises,


Walked through its long verandas


Sound of my boots, Stopped their learning


They peeped at me through the wooden windows


I heard a familiar call from the classroom, in delight.


My dear child, ”Where are you now”


Years after, I felt like a school boy again


 


My Home was not so far from the school.


Took the same old ways, which we used long years ago,


To reach at my lovable home...


From the far, I knew my cottage; Since time didn’t alter its beauty!


As I knocked its wooden door, My eyes was filled with tears of love.


So couldn’t see their cute faces!


Took their old wrinkled hands in my palm; my brought up hands.


I kissed it like never before.


 


One day, I fell down from the skies of my pride;


When the shadows of death fell on my heart!


 


My love to you


Subin


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


Monday, August 24, 2009

Where I am...

 


 

Where I am...


But I know, from where I was


I walked a far to come here..


Even I crossed the mighty mountains;


Swim across the roaring sea


Beat the thorny bushes on the way


Just to stand face to face..


 


I stood aside of a pillar which carved with murals..


There was a deep silence around me;


But only the humming of doves..


Rays from the east fell inside through the painted glass,


It drew images on the floors


Vivid dancing images..


 


Where I am...There


Where I hear the sounds of creation


Where I hear the grace of blessing


Where I hear the joy of healing


Where I hear the divine melodies


Melodies of broken hearts..


 


Where I am....There


Where I feel our fine looking Nature


Where I wet by the monsoon rains


Where I shine by the Yellow sunlight


Where I even warm by the snowfalls


Where I see the glowing stars


Which arises at the nights of life!


 


Where I am...There


Where I see my ugly reflections..


Where I always decide to walk straight


Where I leave my tears in drops


Where I change my color to white


Where I learn to put a Step


A dance step of my life!


 


Where I am...There,


Where the Fragrance of the smoke fills the air


Where my life began and will end


Where I can hear the lullabies of Bethlehem


 Where I can hear the cries of Calvary..


Where I always arise to Life


 


There I’m,.....Inside The Holy Temple


Temple of God!


 


My Love to You


(Poet)Subin


 


Where I am...


But I know, from where I was


I walked a far to come here..


Even I crossed the mighty mountains;


Swim across the roaring sea


Beat the thorny bushes on the way


Just to stand face to face..


 


 


Friday, August 21, 2009

Naranathu Madman

Sometimes in my life,I need a man in my neighbourhoods to warn me that I’m Wrong!

Dear Friend,


Jean  Dominique bauby, The central character in the French movie, “The diving bell and the butterfly”  acted by Mathieu Amalric .Movie is directed by a notable painter/movie maker; Julian Schnabel in the year 2007. It is adapted from French memoir Le scaphandre et le papillon written by a journalist .Though it is communicated with the audience in French, Movie drew much attention from the public and carries away a good number of awards including Golden Globes, Nominated to  four academy awards and at Cannes as well. Movie is drenched in deep sorrows; but the message is one of hope


(Oh, I forget to tell, For the last few months i have been viewing and reviewing the world cinemas,J (but in a few number) to make out the way in which the world is trying to tell a subject. I wondered by the skills of different people who are going to the deep beauty of the matter with their camera. They are doing in a dextrous manner so that people are stick to their chairs with widely opened eyes. One good reason which i deserted from my regional movies is its extreme other perspective of showing the subject; unnatural and light version of the truths.)


The Diving bell and the butterfly is a story of a man(Bauby) who suffered a Stroke and lapsed in to coma.  Medical science tells it is a Locked in Syndrome. Twenty days after the stroke, He awoke to conscious mind. But he was completely paralysed expect some movements to head and left eye. Before, Bauby was an editor of Elle fashion magazine. Professionally he was a brilliant stuff. Director starts his movie by shooting his movements of the eyelids and the time to recover from his unconscious mind. Then our character understood that he is in a hospital care unit. Medical team is curiously looking at his paralytic face. He is responding positively to the doctor’s query that helps them to understand that he is not a Dead being. Later shots revealed his helplessness and dependence.( Like without his permission, once a doctor switched off the television). As the days passed by, there is no physical change to this man. But the atmosphere in that hospital room is changed. He knows everything, he feels everything, But Others don’t know what his feeling is!



Director introduced a new character in the movie as a Speech therapist in the later shots. It makes the movie powerful and universal. She taught him to communicate with the world by blinking his left eye. She arranged the French alphabets in a particular order such that frequently using alphabet comes at first and would recited for him(E, S, A, R, I, N, T, U, L, etc.). If that alphabet is correct, he will blink his left eye. She wrote each alphabet and makes a word and then a sentence. He started to communicate with each one at the hospital. As the movie moved front, it showed bauby’s personal life and achievements, fall backs & affairs. It was very touching when he portrays bauby’s relationship with father. Tears rolled down through my eyes when father’s phone call came to the hospital room. He spoke with him with the help of speech therapist .


Though appalled by his condition, Bauby came to realise that he had been left with an incredible gift. He still had the means to escape the "diving bell" of his stricken body by letting the "butterfly" of his memory and imagination take flight. Bauby desired to write an autobiography .Eventhough it is a strainful work, his girlfriend helped him to fulfil his dream. He told his all story with his blinking eyelid. It was a journey which ended in a Book. She recited each alphabets in the order of its frequency of usage.He blinked his eye at the right alphabet. She made a word from the alphabets...From words to sentences ..Sentences to paragraphs...paragraphs to pages..pages to chapter...From chapter to chapters. With Chapters she compiled a book....Book’s Title is The Diving bell and the butterfly... The book took about 200,000 blinks to write and an average word took approximately two minutes ... The book also chronicles everyday events for a person with locked-in syndrome. These events include playing at the beach with his family, getting a bath, and meeting visitors.As Julian Schnabel told, Bauby solved the problem: He turned a disaster in to something extraordinary


 He died two days after his book is published in French...I thought it was only a fictionalized movie; But .....



Jean Dominique bauby (Real Man)



Cover Page

Sometimes, Some people would tell bed ridden people are useless. So they are fabricating laws in order to kill them under the darkness of the closed room. They have given a cute name for it ‘Mercy Killing’. But Nobody knows what is their potential. Or Who will measure the value of their Presence!

My Love to you.

Subin

Once, But Recently our Naranathu 'Madman' was rolling a huge rock up through the streets. Diogenes’ met him at the middle of the street.


Diogenes’ hold his lamp at his face and asked, “ Oh, Mr.Naranathu?”


“Do You hear the latest joke”


“What”


“Babu weds Sabu ”

Naranathu roared "Boanerges, where did you hide your Thunder!"

Last month , our honourable Delhi high court reviewed the article 377 of our constitution. All of us may know about the facts and stories behind the amendments of the article. In short, now onwards the Law will protect people having ‘special’ sexual orientation. With all my respects to the judiciary body of my country, Loudly telling.....This amendment is against the Nature.. All the time Man interprets the things in his own interest. Man is constantly creating challenges to his existence and the nature..All the time i felt that our system is facing towards the West, where our culture, lifestyle even spirituality having a good difference. . .My belief is most of the citizens are sharing my view .


My request...


Those who can influence our Parliament, Judiciary and Beurocracy; Please do it in order to save our Mankind!


Blessed are those Men who love their women so passionately J


 


 


 


 


 




Saturday, August 1, 2009

victims of circumstances


My son is standing outside, drenched in rain. I still have no answer to the question of whether or not I feel vengeance. But I leave a question to the world: why are you making my innocent child stand in the rain even after his death? I don’t close the door. Let the rain lash inside and drench me. Let at least my invisible son know that his father never shut the door.

Memories of a father,
T.V.Eachara Varier

(Father of Rajan)

Dear Friend,
I’m Adam John, Just here to tell a story of me, "How others define me w.r.t my circumstances,i have fallen"...
I was joined in an Engineering college in the year 2000.Since my house is so far from my college, i decided to stay in a nearby hostel. Though I was in a Hostel, My brought up and memories helped me to stay back from the ‘bad’ habits. But unfortunately the fate was different. I was stamped as a drunkard by my Hostel warden, Fr. Markose. I cannot blame him since he had an circumstantial evidence for his conclusion. He caught some bottles of alcohol from my room on one Friday night. At that time i was not in the room. Then late that night, He dialled to my home and told to my mother about the incidents. "But Acha, He is in Home now; Then how does he drink there".. "Oh He came home, Anyway Teacher, have an eye on your child, Sometimes, his voice and accents was resembled of a drunkard .” J
One year after, there was a music program conducted at the Open air auditorium of my college. A good number of beautiful songs waved across the campus. My batch mates were putting steps for the music. I was one among them to act like ‘Jayan’ for the song, 'Kasthuri man mizhi.... After that program a rumour was flying across the corners of the campus, “For Sure, Adam John is a Drunkard”,” He is not a rat snake, But a Viper”. I still don’t understand, why they are thinking, People can dance only when their head was kicked out.

Years after, I was passed out from my campus. I joined in a firm where the official drinks itself is ‘Hot beverages’. Even they washed their face with the ‘Hot water’. I got a good number of friends from my introduction itself. They thought that I was sponsored by Beverages corporation of Kerala. One of the good intuition for their conclusion was ‘I am a Christian’!

Here in my new company, there is no difference. In the first sight itself, colleagues made up their mind as ‘For sure Adam John, a one and a half Drunkard’. They concluded it from the shape of my body, Fatty and a big round belly.At the corridors, they delightfully conversed each other in the break times...Don’t know, One ‘Achayan’ has come. Ha ha ...So one more member in our club..Still they couldn’t believe that ‘ I am not a...’My roommate was happy when he got me to share his room. The reason was obvious. My styles and gestures deceived him! You know, Our secatary has a conviction that drunkards are highly intelligent. Once she asked me, whether you drink alcohol. I replied, Your husband is highly intelligent. Rite!.

During my short vacation in the last autumn, Mother asked me, ”You have started drinking beer, haven’t”. I got shocked. My heart was broken in to pieces. We have been together for the last twenty six years, still she is doubted; even without knowing that she is my one of the reason of not doing it.
Why should I keep all this ‘virgin’ stuffs. To whom i want to please..So I decided to.........;

Now I’m sitting at one of the dark corners of my city; Diar Al Mina Hotel. When I came here, i looked around for the familiar faces, like ‘Thalathil Dineshan’ of vadakkunokki yanthram.



I was happy since nobody was here who knows me. I sat at the corner where the table is tidily arranged with flowers. And feeble illuminations drooped from the ceilings; its light resembles my heart. I partially hide my face with hands. A man in black suit came near to my table to take the order. My forehead was filled with the drops of sweats.



"Sir, May I help You! "


"A Beer please."


"Ok, which one."

(My face exhibited my ignorance), "Hawards"

"You mean, Haywards"


"Yes, One ‘Large’ Haywards,"


'Large' ! No, sir


"Then ‘Small', please"


‘Small’ beer! , You Mean, One


" Ah, ahhh , yes....yes .One ‘Mug ‘full of ....."


"One ‘Mug !"


"Why don’t you serve one mug or Jug full of beer here,man. Then How people are ordering here! " (I got annoyed)


" Sir,you are trying for the first time ?"He left with the order....


Really I understood the difficulties faced by ‘Thalathil Dineshan’.

'Please forgive me ,.I don’t know what to do', My mobile was ringing. I took the phone from my pocket. (An unknown number). I answered the call.


"Adam John Speaking...."


"Adam, Where are you, Man". A cool and firm voice (call has ended)


A close verse from the Genesis came up to my mind...."Who told you that You are naked (Drunkard). ?"


I stood up from the chair....


(I’m afraid, if i fall in the laws of the land. They will uproot me. It is not because the law is ugly. But...)


My Love to You

Subin.



You may remember the life story of Fr. Benedict Onamkulam. - A Catholic priest of Chenganacherry archdiocese in southern Kerala state who has lived with the reputation of being a "murderer" for 34 years had his innocence made public .Father Benedict Onamkulam was sentenced to death in 1966 for the murder of Mariakutty-- a widow-- on the basis of "circumstantial evidence." However, on hearing the appeal made by the Church, the Kerala high court acquitted the priest for lack of evidence. All the same, the priest had to serve in a remote mission due to the "murderer" label, while even movies were made based on the role of the priest in the murder of the woman. However, the happiest moment in the life of the now-retired 73-year-old priest came recently when the 93-year-old widow of the actual murderer approached him recently pleading forgiveness and mercy.


http://www.jananeethi.org/ ; Aware of our rights and civil liberties