The Art Of Placating People.

The art of placating people is learnt the hard way.It stars from the time we are young.You give a good pencil to your sibling to stop him crying and complaining to your mom, as you took his pen.Later if he was old enough and is faster learning the art of demading better than you, you end up with lending your bicycle to him for an hour in exchange of him not telling mom that you bunked the classes to see a film.

By the time you marry one becomes a fullfledged placator with the art being exercised with your hubby when he asks for accounts about how you can spend so fast his money.What do you do to placate?You cook, not him I mean though you try to, but food and you know the old adage," a full stomache is the way to a man's heart".Hm....

Then life comes full circle and you are a mother placating kids.Kids....you know!!!!Buy the boy a new shirt, allow him to go play a cricket match, while you pray your husband wont notice his absense at home.Thank God the girl need not play cricket.But she goes to films with boys, of course other friends are there.Here again pray and pary.

God needs placating too.For all your mistakes and over spending if there is no God, you wont be alive now.Right????

Jayamala.

Just Something Nice.

Yesterday is gone,

And today shall be fine.

Just tell me something nice,

Which will not be politics,

Filmy,or philosophic.

I would like to hold on,

This day with something nice,

That shall not relate me,

To a past that was in error,

Or a future that is yet to be.

But today I want to be nice,

So here I am wearing a new dress for you,

With rememberence of just this moment with you.


Jayamala.

Ragging.....A pathetic Torture Method.

Just now I saw one more pathetic report about ragging,prevalent in campuses in India.This happened in PSG College of Arts and Science.The boy was hit with stone, rolled down steps and beaten and he had lost sight in his eyes.

I am thinking of the violence getting exprssed here.The boys must have been so violent in nature to have done this to another boy.I think strict supervision and strict powers to enlist the rules are needed to condone this type of happenings. It is as good as killing that new comer boy.

I feel sick seeing and hearing of these things.Recently one boy had died in the N.E. university and the acse was widely published.

I condemn the boys who did this to that newcomer joining college to bear similar sorrows if only there was a God.

Jayamala.

A Starry Night.

Have you ever seen a starry night.City dwellers do not often get to see them, unless one chooses to sit in a balcony at night without lights and look up at the sky.Lovely to say the least.I prefer going to the top of the building and sitting there watching the stillness around with only the stars for company.

I remember the days I sit on the starcase too and looking at the sky without having the staircase light on.My son will be sitting on the second step and we will be talking, me just rumpling his head.Lovely companionshop, and so cosy a friendship between mother and son.

A starry night induces in us a sense of wonder at this universe and one does feel aloof though has an umblical chord running, connecting us with this world.

I miss those nights and the nights does beckon me to be with my son, away amongst those stars perhaps?

Jayamala.

I shall not.

I shall not entreat you again,

To be with me and watch this pain.

I shall part with you,

Since you want it so.

I shall not wear flowers in my hair,

For you will not smell them.

Neither shall walk towards a sunset,

For we part ways here.

Lest you forget, I just remind you,

That you were just a flower in my garden.

A flower where I lingered,

For a while, as we passed each other.


Jayamala.