The house was quiet. As if relatives stayed for a whole month and left. It was so silent all of a sudden. Ammu and I looked at each other. She knew the meaning of that look. S brushed it off in his usual emotionless state. We got into doing our regular chores but the mundane tasks seemed to be even more lifeless.

I would involuntarily call his name for dinner and the Rrr would stop in my mouth and I would swallow it within. I did not want to go to his room and saved it for a little later. That night the daddy daughter duo said, "Sleep peacefully...it's quiet". I know I have all the peace in the world now and all the quietness I always desired for. 

When he was at home, this was how the routine went. We around 9:00 AM before starting our work, "Rushi, get up. It's 9". Then the same scream at 10, 11, 12 ...he would finally wake up and eat cereal before we had our lunch. I would repeat the same thing everyday, "Why don't you eat lunch now when it's already late?" He immersed in his phone would say without lifting his head, "I'll eat at 1". The same words...every day. 

I know he is not far away like other kids in our community who are studying across the coast. I know I can see him in the time one can take a shower and get ready to work. I know he's only a phone call away but still it is not the same.

I wanted to say, Yes, I can sleep peacefully today as no one will be walking over my head at the middle of the night. So y'all must be wondering what the Bathroom Flush of the title is? When we built this house, we extended a bedroom other than what the builder had provided. That extra bedroom is exactly on top of my bedroom. The planner that I am, I planned it for the son and the other corner of the house for the daughter so they have their own privacy and would not get into each other's hair. Little did I know that one day I would be pulling my hair for the rest of the years...

The boy whined a bit that his room is smaller than his sister's but adjusted happily that he gets his own bed, room etc..Now, he was in his 6th grade when we moved. But will kids always stay in 6th grade? Hell No...he grew from a pre-teen to a blood sucking teenager who eventually got a phone who eventually has SM accounts, who eventually spend all his time in that damn thing without lifting his head.

Well! All said and done this is a normal teen life style...then why fuss? because the boy's day starts at the time when I go to bed. He showers for an eternity on top of my head...then eats cereal at midnight, because he hasn't eaten cereal during the day 😲 I think these cereal factories run on families of teens. Then hydrates himself for all the water he missed drinking in the day and keeps flushing the toilet another zillion times throughout the night.

This is what our texts typically look like:

I sobbed into my pillow wishing only if I could hear him walk once, only if I could text him one more time to sleep early. 😒 I went to his room the next day and tidied up all the clothes strewn over on the bathroom floor, made his bed, lifted the blinds; for the room could use some sunlight in ages.

A week passes by quicker than it seems to be. The boy was home and has his cereal first thing after he comes home. The room is messy in no time and the bedsheet all over on Monday Morning. I don't set it that day to have the feeling of him in the house for another day. 

Now, no phase is permanent, right? The boy will come back one day and start the music again. So, I have a plan to take revenge and let's hope at least next time God will be on my side. I told him I am going to switch rooms with him when he and his wife lives in this house and has babies and they have sleepless nights...I would be an old lady who would be using the rest room the whole night and keep flushing to his annoyance and be up by walking and watching movies and laughing loudly with friends across the continents! Sigh!!!!

p.s: Like many other posts, the trigger for this is my Big Mother as I fondly call her who nudged me to read :

MTV, Brats and me | The Cybernag

Scribbles

Posted By Found In Folsom

In the past 9 or so years I had the blog, I never wrote any gratitude posts, year round up posts, looking back or contemplation posts. But this year has been different for all of us in more ways than we know. Starting from March when the lockdown was announced, we all were struck with fear even to step outside and breathe freely. We washed vegetables and sanitized what not. We all lived in the fear of being alive at one point. 

I saw my immediate family get severely attacked with Covid and how terribly they suffered and survived. This year witnessed the passing away of my grandfather and mom silently weeping his death from here. I don't like this year for many reasons that could or could not be Corona related. Many of my close friends lost their parents. A loss that is not replaceable but a void that cannot be filled as they could not attend for their last viewing.

A dear friend of mine accidentally chopped an inch of her finger and how she braved and survived the entire ordeal and finally able to retain it...I cannot even imagine to bear a hundredth of the pain she had been through. My dear, you raised the bar very high in this regard. Another close friend's mom who is hale and healthy being diagnosed with lung cancer left me speechless. Valli's death left our family with a huge void that's irreplaceable.

Losing our most favorite SPB, a loss that's personal to each of us.. My heart aches and throbs even today if I see his music concerts on TV. I don't remember crying ever over a celebrity's death but he made me weep and how? I believe many of you echo my feelings. 

Apart from all the sad things, this year I did a wee bit of gardening. I did not plan on growing any vegetables owing to CTS for my both hands. A friend gave me a couple of saplings of Dosakaya and I planted them. My neighbors and other friends gave me a couple of Malabar Spinach saplings, Amaranth seeds. I was tempted to buy a couple of tomato plants. The beefsteak variety gave me some produce and other one was not so great. I tried Capsicum too but I couldn't produce the cost of the pots, soil or say at least the cost of the plant :( :( Man, Peppers take forever to grow. I even started a small compost bin and religiously put all the scrapes in it. I joined a gardener's group and got two small beds built for next year. Every evening, going into the backyard and looking at the 4-5 plants I am growing gave me immense pleasure. Pulling out weeds, looking at their flowers, tiny vegetables, hidden vegetables gave me hope for life everyday.

On the personal front, we had a couple of mile stones but we could not celebrate together as a family. My sis in law turned 50, my mother in law turned 70. I still had a job, my son is applying for colleges, my sister is moving to Texas. Finally I get to see my mom after an excruciatingly long year. 

2020 taught us a lot of things we have taken for granted. Planners like me wrote list after list at the end of the month when the vegetables were almost done. People who hated leftovers or thought freezer stuff was unhealthy loaded their freezers. Panic stricken folks hoarded toilet paper, wipes, laundry detergents and every cleaning supply on the planet. Many people I know said they developed stronger bonds with their families. All of our patience and tolerance levels definitely went a notch up. Priorities changed. Everyone learned to find comfort in their zones. Above all, it taught us to count our blessings!

With this, I want to end my reminiscing of the most dreadful year of the Century yet thanking God for still keeping me and my loved ones safe from the disasters and keeping it all together. I wish all my friends and loved ones and the few who read my blog and their families a great year ahead. I wish the vaccine comes soon and there will be a day when Covid is noting but a regular flu. Until then, Happy Holidays and Stay safe, folks!

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Posted By Found In Folsom

మొన్న నా ఫ్రెండ్ నాగిని వాళ్ళమ్మగారి గురించి రాసిన పోస్ట్ చదివాక, నాకు కొన్ని జ్ఞాపకాలు గుర్తొచ్చాయి. నేను ఒక టైములో ఎథిస్ట్ మాదిరి గానే ఉండే దాన్ని. అమ్మ కూడా మా  చిన్నప్పటి నుండి పెద్ద పూజలు, గట్రా  చేసే టైపు కాదు. అంతెందుకు ప్రతి రోజు దీపం పెట్టే అలవాటు కూడా తనకి లేదు. నాకు ఎప్పుడు అదో తప్పు లాగా అస్సలు అనిపించేదే కాదు. అమ్మని అలా చూసి పెరగటం వల్లనో ఏమో నాకు పెద్ద భక్తి అబ్బలేదు. కానీ ప్రతి సంవత్సరం క్రమం తప్పకుండా వినాయక చవితి, దీపావళి మాత్రం ఇంట్లో బాగా జరుపుకునే వాళ్ళము. అదే అలవాటు కాబోలు, ఇప్పటికి ఆ ఆనవాయితీ కంటిన్యూ చేస్తాను.

నా హై స్కూల్ అయ్యాక ఖమ్మం నుండి కొత్తగూడెం మారాక, అమ్మ తన టైలరింగ్ షాప్ మానేసి  ఇంట్లో ఉండేది. నాన్న రోజు బయటకి వెళ్ళే ముందు, అమ్మని, కొద్దిగా వాకిలి ఊడ్చి ముగ్గు వేయొచ్చు కదా అంటే, వరండాలో కూర్చుని సీరియస్ గా ఈనాడు పేపర్లో ఎడిటోరియల్ పేజీలో మునిగిపోయిన అమ్మ తలెత్తి ఒక్క లుక్ ఇచ్చేది.  ఆవిడ చూపు , ఆయన విసుగు మొహం రెండు మెదడు లో అలా ఉండి  పోయాయి.

నాన్నకి ఎప్పటి నుండి అలవాటో నాకు గుర్తు లేదు కానీ శివుడుకి పూజ చేయకుండా మాత్రం బయటకి వెళ్ళే వాళ్ళు కాదు. నేను ఇంటర్లో శ్రీశైలం ఎక్స్కర్షన్ వెళ్ళినప్పుడు సరదాగా ఒక చిన్న గాజు శివలింగం తెచ్చాను. కానీ తెచ్చాక ఎవరో చెప్పారు. ఇంట్లో శివలింగం ఉంటే ప్రతి రోజు అభిషేకం  చేయాలని. అప్పటి నుండి నాకు తెలిసి తాను పోయే ముందు వరకు కచ్చితంగా చేసే ఉంటాడు.  ఆ అభిషేకం చేసే అప్పుడు మంత్రాలు ఇంటి పెంకులు అదిరిపోయే సౌండ్ లో మోగి పోయేవి.  అమ్మ తన స్టైల్లో నవ్వేది. మెల్లగా చదివినా శివుడికి వినిపిస్తుంది అని. ఎంతటి పని ఉన్న రోజు అయినా దీపాలు కడగకుండా, పూలు పెట్టకుండా, అభిషేకం చేయకుండా బయట పనులకి బయలు దేరే వాళ్ళు కాదు.

మా చుట్టుపక్కల పల్లెటూళ్ళలో పురుగుమందు చావులు తరచూ వింటూనే ఉండే వాళ్ళము. ఏ చావు వార్త వచ్చినా,  ఆ శివుడు కి నాలుగు పటిక బెల్లం పలుకులు పెట్టకుండా గేటు దాటిన గుర్తు లేదు నాకు. ప్రతి కార్తీక మాసంలో క్రమం తప్పకుండా మా పక్క ఊర్లోని శివాలయానికి  డబ్బులు, పెద్ద క్యాన్ నువ్వుల నూనె ఇచ్చే అలవాటు తనకి. ఇష్టం ఉన్నా లేకపోయినా కార్తీక పౌర్ణమి నాడు దీపాలు వెలిగించటానికి అమ్మని కూడా తీసుకుని వెళ్ళటం ఆనవాయితి.

తరువాత రోజుల్లో వ్యాపారం సరిలేక , ఇంట్లో పరిస్థితులు కష్టంగా ఉన్న రోజున కూడా అలానే నూనె ఇస్తే, అమ్మకి వచ్చిన కోపం అంతా ఇంతా కాదు. మానవ సేవే మాధవ సేవ అనేది అమ్మ ఫిలాసఫీ. చిన్నపటి నుండి అమ్మ అంతే. అలాంటి పెంపకం వల్లనో ఏమో గుడిలో $5 వేయటానికి నాకు చేయి రాదు. అదే ఎవరికన్నా ఎమన్నా అయింది అని తెలిస్తే, గో ఫండ్ మి కి $25 ఇవ్వటానికి వెనుకాడను.

ఒక పదిహేను సంవత్సరాలు ఫాస్ట్ ఫార్వర్డ్ బటన్ నొక్కితే, కొన్ని స్వయం కృతాపరాధాల వల్ల ఛిద్రం  ఐన ఆయన జీవితం చివరికి ఎలా ముగుస్తుందో, ఎలాంటి చావు వస్తుందో అని మేము ఎప్పుడూ బాధ పడుతూనే ఉండే వాళ్ళము. కానీ తను ఎక్కువ బాధ పడకుండా, అనారోగ్యంతో ఎక్కువ ఇబ్బంది పడకుండా, ఆ శివయ్య త్వరగానే తీసుకెళ్ళిపోయాడు. తన హాస్పటిల్ ఖర్చులకి, తన చావుకి, మందులకి ఎవరి దగ్గర ఒక్క రూపాయి చేయి చాచకుండా సరిపడా ఉంచుకున్నారు. అందరం వెళ్ళి జరగవలసిన కార్యక్రమాలు అన్నీ చేసి వచ్చాము. ఏనాడూ పూజలు శ్రద్దగా చేయని అమ్మ నాన్న అస్తికలు కాశీలో కలిపి వచ్చింది. ఈ సంవత్సరం ఎంతో మంది తల్లితండ్రులు కరోనా కి బలైయ్యారు. చాలా మంది దిక్కు మాలిన వారి లాగా, అనాధ శవాల్లాగా ఒక కార్యం, తంతు జరగకుండా ఈ  భూమిని విడిచి వెళ్ళారు. అలంటి ఏ వార్త విన్నా, మనసులో ఒక్కటే తలంపుకి వస్తుంది. మా నాన్న ఎంత అదృష్టవంతుడు?  లేక ఆయన పూజల ఫలితామా? ఆ శివయ్య అలా గౌరవంగా తీసుకుని పోయాడా అని.....

నాగిని, ఇది నీ కోసం. అమ్మ నన్ను వెంట బెట్టుకుని పనిమాలా గుడికి తీసుకుని వెళ్ళిన  సందర్భాలు నాకు గుర్తులేవు. నాకు ఎప్పుడు వెళ్ళాలని అనిపించేది కాదు. చాలా ఏళ్ళు అసలు దేవుడు, గుడి అని నమ్మకం లేక ప్రతి గురువారం నా ఫ్రెండ్స్ బాబా గుడికి వెళ్తే, గుడి ముందు దాకా వెళ్ళి కూడా లోపలకి వెళ్ళకుండా వాళ్ళ కోసం బయట ఉండి పోయే దాన్ని. బాబా తన భక్తుల్ని ఎక్కడ ఉన్నా రప్పించుకుంటారు అంట. ఇప్పుడు బాబాని నేను నామస్మరణ చేయని రోజు ఉండదు. అలా అని ప్రపంచం లో ఏది జరిగినా, అయ్యో ఇలా ఎందుకు చేసావు దేవుడా? నాకే ఈ కష్టాలు ఎందుకు అని అస్సలు ఎప్పుడూ అనుకునే రకం కాదు. మానవ ప్రయత్నం మనం చేసి మిగతాది దేవుని మీద వదిలేయటమే అని నమ్ముతాను . ఇది ఎందుకు రాసాను అంటే మన ఇద్దరి నాస్తికత్వానికి, ఆస్తికత్వానికి కొంచెం పోలిక ఉందనిపించి :) కొంచెం పెద్దయ్యాక మాత్రం  పండగల రోజు అయితే  గుడికి నా వల్ల కాదు అని అర్ధం అయింది. నాకు గుడికి వెళ్తే, దేవుని మీద భక్తి కన్నా జనాలు వేసుకునే బట్టలు, నగలు....పీపుల్ వాచింగ్ అనే ఒక మాయరోగం ఏడ్చి చచ్చింది. ఆ రోగాన్ని పెంచి పోషించటం ఎక్కువ చేస్తాను. సో, అదన్న మాట స్టోరీ. మొత్తానికి నాలుగు ముక్కలు రాయించినందుకు, నీకు బోలెడన్ని తాంక్ యులు అన్నమాట.

అలా థెయ్సం కి అథేయిజం కి మధ్యలో పెరిగిన నేను ఇవాళ రోజున కార్తీక మాసంలో రోజు దీపం పెడదాం అనుకునే దాకా వచ్చాను.

ఇంతకీ మా నాన్న పేరు చెప్పలేదు కదూ... నాన్న పేరు శంకర్. తాత పేరు సదాశివరావు. నాన్న వాళ్ళింట్లో ఏంటో అందరికి శివుడు ఫామిలీ పేర్లే ఉంటాయి. మా పెద్దత్త పేరు భవాని, రెండో అత్త పేరు వినయ, మూడో అత్త నాగరాణి.  నాన్న ఆఖరి  దాకా తనే భోజనం  పంపేది. నాగక్కా, ఆ శివయ్య నిన్ను ఎప్పుడూ చల్లగా చూడాలని కోరుకుంటాము.  What's in a name? I really don't know.

Pages from Life

Posted By Found In Folsom

When my father passed away last August, we stayed back at our village home to complete the rituals and the 11th-day ceremony. As the home was not occupied by our own family, some tenants were residing. Once they vacated, we started to clean the home and make it ready for the 11th day. As you start to live in the house only do you notice what is working and what is not. Mom decided to get the dangling electric wires in the front verandah fixed for once and all. No one has touched the wiring of the home after it was constructed some 45 years ago. In India, you can get anything done overnight you see. Especially in small towns and villages. There would be an electrician who is also a farmer who is also a student or who would also be your medical shop guy. So, my uncle arranged for this guy to come and fix the switchboards in almost all the rooms, fix the ceiling fans, and put the wires in their places. The guy came with an assistant and worked from morning to past noon. As it was past lunchtime, we offered him to eat lunch and he politely denied it. This happened the second day too. I am one of those who fuss when people don't eat food on time and I kept badgering him to come and eat. That's when he smiled and said, "My father also passed away six months back. We don't eat at anyone else's home for a year." Surprised, I asked him, "What if you happen to go and stay somewhere?" He continued.."No. We don't visit anyone's home for a year". I convinced him that there's a death in this family too, he could eat here, and that it won't make a difference. I answered his questions about our U.S life stories while they ate at my heart's content.

However, after they left, his words kept me thinking. There is a reason why families practiced mourning in the olden days. The thoughts went deeper and deeper when I decided that I would also practice like that guy for a year. By not going to anyone's homes for a year. I know it wouldn't be possible and most of my friends would be upset if I said that. On the contrary, this year most of our close friends had many ceremonies and parties planned ahead and we missing them would really become a big deal. I decided to worry about it later and truly cherished each day I spend there.

           Unexpectedly, I fell sick on the 11th-day ceremony and was hospitalized. God knows what mosquito it was, thankfully I tested negative for both Dengue and Chicken Guinea. One report said Jaundice. Not exactly sure what it was, but it did have an impact on me both physically and mentally. Life was never back to normal after the fever. My return trip got postponed and I came back to the U.S after I felt I had the ability to travel. Once I was back, my physical pain added to the mental agony. That is when I realized I was really not ready to meet people yet. I would evade people or invitations. I avoided gatherings for more than a quarter. Social distancing began a few months ahead for me. Being myself made me do a lot of self-talk. Made me realize which friends really made the effort to come and see me. Who actually called me. Who texted me. Who checked on my well-being. Maybe this is one of the reasons people keep it low during mourning. To understand and know the people who value you and whose value is pertinent in your life. I know not everyone is comfortable in consoling around a death. I don't have any hard feelings for those. And I also made a mental note of those who did not. Who would otherwise talk to me with their hearts open as if my existence in their lives meant a lot. It could be the awkwardness of the situation or their own clumsiness to handle death, all it takes is one sentence. "I am sorry for your loss". Not all deaths are the same and not all losses are the same. This may not mean much but it makes a difference to the bereaved. 

              Thinking about all the upcoming celebrations I had to attend and knowing that denying them will be something that I can't make others comprehend, I was slowly getting out of my cocoon. Thanks to my manager, he let me work from home from anywhere; I could visit mom and spend a wonderful time with my sister's family for Christmas. Come New Year, we were home to start 2020. After a couple of months, friends started making plans for the upcoming celebrations and my calendar was booked till the end of August. Not long after the plans were taking shape, happened the unforgettable Covid-19 and my deepest desire for social distancing had become a permanent one. Can you believe that I was one happy person to go bury myself in my cocoon? I am deeply sorry for all the lives lost, all the families displaced and thousands of people unemployed. My heart breaks thinking about the front-line workers risking their lives. I pray for all the small business owners who are losing thousands of dollars locked up in homes. I wish and hope everything and everyone gets back to their normal lives pretty soon; but if you ask me to social distance for a few more months, I am OK with it. Few more years? I do not know. Time has to say...

Life

Posted By Found In Folsom

The other day while driving, my daughter casually said, "2020! Wow! The first decade of my life went by really quick, Amma." I smiled at her and her thoughts. The first decade of my life? Is she that old to be thinking about how her life has gone by? What about me? Four decades of my life had gone by. What do I think about it? How do I feel about it? Where do I stand?

2020! I remember vividly how and where New Year Celebrations had been for the year 2000. The dress I wore, whose house we were at, the songs to which my sister danced and the feeling I felt the next day, "Wow! 2000. The turn of a century! A Millenium!" I remember wishing each and everyone I met and saw on my way, A very Happy New Year. When CBN used to say, Vision 2020, I wondered many times, where are we all going to be in 2020? Is this man crazy? Is he even going to be alive by then? These thoughts surfaced my mind many times. And see where we are in 2020. I'm sorry, Sir. For dreaming big for us and for we the people of AP having failed you forever. Shame on us and shame on the ungrateful people of AP. This topic was not my main intention of this post; however, I can't help it for my respect for this man.

I think more than half my life is over already. I feel satiated for being blessed with what I have, feel sorry for the relations that cut adrift and have become apathetic to many things in life. It doesn't bother me anymore for the vacations or holidays I haven't taken or the food I haven't experimented with. It does bug me why some people behave the way they do, but one cannot control things, not in one's control.

I stand at this point in life where I don't give a shit to what people think of or who I have to please anymore. I stand at this point in life where I can differentiate the genuine ones from the fake. I haven't mastered the art yet, but I will be there by the next decade may be ;-) I am at a point where I learned zipping the lips most of the time is better than expressing your opinions. I stand at this point where I am wise enough to pick my battles.

Above all, I stand at a point in life where I live each day with the fear of losing my most loved ones. With the fear to protect them by all might. With the fear, if my children will fail; with the fear of how they will be alone in the world when we leave them. Yet, I move on with new dreams, new hopes and small targets, one day at a time. Here's wishing you all a Very Healthy and Happy New Year! 

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Posted By Found In Folsom

It was the year 93-94. I was in my Tenth Standard. Our school used to take kids on an excursion once a year. Most of them were one-day trips which were more like a picnic than a tour in itself. The day trips cost around Rs.30-Rs.35. It might look like a meager amount now but back then that was expensive for my family. Every year I begged my mom and she would say we will send you next year. Year after year, I kept waiting for the next one to arrive. Finally, I was in my 10th grade and that was the last year of school. That year the school was taking us to Hyderabad for a couple of days and the cost was Rs.100. I was quite keen on going but very apprehensive in asking mom as the cost was triple the usual price. However, I let my intentions and she agreed to send me that year.

The trip was nothing fancy. No first class train or hi-tech buses. Our school had around five school buses and all the students were loaded into a bus with 2-3 teachers to accompany. The bus would start around 10.00 pm at one central point and drop us back at the same place a couple of days later. So, why am I telling all this? Ah!! Parents were dropping their kids off on two wheelers mostly and the affluent in cars which were a few in number in those days. 

Coming to me, mom was single then. Mom couldn't come to drop me because she had to close her tailoring shop and had to go home late. I think she didn't come as it would be hard to find a rickshaw back home at that hour. She arranged a guy who worked with her to drop me at the location. So, how was he to drop me there? On his bicycle.  And I so didn't want this to happen but I didn't have any option either.

I didn't want my friends to see him nor wanted him to come anywhere near the bus.

I asked him to stop at quite a distance and kept saying, " Anna, I can go. you please leave.. you please leave". We know how responsible this brotherly clan is! Though I insisted I could take care of myself, he deemed that it was his responsibility to not leave me alone and made sure I was with my school people. For some reason, I could never forget that incident. I believe mom gave me an earful later. She must have.

I spent a lot of my childhood not fitting in, in a lot of different ways. 
                                                                                                   ~Wil Wheaton

As a teen, we are not comfortable with things in general at many levels. I believe it is because we want to fit in. Fit in comfortably in the friends' circles, in the society. It feels awkward to be the odd man out. I was already an odd man out for various reasons. For being loud, for not being pretty, for wearing glasses, for being a Tomboy, for being bold, for standing up for myself. For my father coming and meeting us at school which was odd; for fathers came and saw kids at school only for PTI meetings. I didn't fit in for many reasons I cannot fathom.

What reminds me of this trivial incident after 23 years? My son. Another teen in the making. He is embarrassed if I am standing in the queue to drop him off at the movie theater. The other day he said, "Amma no offense but can you stop babying me?"

Perplexed, I asked: "Babying you? Seriously?" He is embarrassed if I play devotional songs while dropping him off at school. He is embarrassed for everything under the sun. Why? Because he is trying to fit in. No matter which year of the century it is, teens are the same. The circumstances could be different, but the Trying To Fit In is the same. Not just teens, don't we all try to fit in in every phase of life?

Fitting in is boring. But it takes you nearly your whole life to work that out.  
                                                                                                                           ~ Clare Balding

Image Courtesy: Clipartfox.com
Quotes: BrainQuotes

Scribbles

Posted By Found In Folsom

Plan B!! What plan is she talking about? I know what you all naughty people might be thinking of. I am not talking of the Plan B for...err..Okay! Let's talk business. On a cloudy morning we warn our kids to wear their rain jackets, we remind our spouses not to forget their umbrellas. We have an alternate plan for surprise showers. We keep candles at home in case of a power shortage; we have hand fans, we buy additional groceries to avoid running to stores at odd hours; we keep a rescue kit for floods and earthquakes, you name it and we have an alternate solution for every single trouble that comes our way. Do we also plan similarly for larger things in life? If a family member falls terminally ill; are we financially equipped to meet the medical expenses? If that family member is the sole bread winner; who is going to take reins of the family? What if both parents travel together and never come back? What happens to the kids? What if the husband dies of a heart attack or meets a road accident? What's the plight of the wife and children? Life isn't going to be the same, is it? These thoughts run through my mind all the time.

Death and unforeseen circumstances could occur in anyone's life. We hear this random news of deaths and illness from a distant relative, a friend, a co-worker or a neighbor. But the intensity hits only when it happens to us.

When I was a kid I would think people die only when they get old. That myth has changed over the years. Of late, with the incidents that have happened around me, my perception of life has evolved a lot larger than it was. Death could happen to anyone in any age. A few incidents in the past few years related to people I once knew or cousins of friends have left me devastated. 

I know nothing can prepare us for the worst. But like they say foresee the unforeseen; by taking some small and some big & bold decisions, I believe we all can be prepared for what may come. If not completely, at least partially. Don't ask me if I have taken all the below measures before coming up with this post. The answer is No and I am on my way. Few of them are:

1. Insurance. Get Insured. Enroll in a Life Insurance Policy that will take care of the family in case of a sudden demise. Make the spouse and kids as nominees for the ease of everything.
2. Write your Will. It may sound overly precautious and a bit dramatic but yes, your Will is important. It is important to let your kids know what and with who their future lies. If you have already done so, revise it every 5 years. Will is not just a testament of your properties and declaration of who is going to possess what physical belongings but to let them know who has the custody of the family. In some cases, if the Will is not written, the insurance amount does not reach the beneficiary but would go to some charity/organization. 
3. Finances. Make your spouse a partner in everything. There are many families where the man runs the show and the woman of the house has no clue on the inflow/outflow of finances. Both the partners need to be involved in paying the bills and running the household. Don't limit their capabilities only for savings in coupons and grocery shopping.
4. Be Independent. Women need to come out of their protective shells and be independent. I have heard this answer zillion times when I ask some basic questions. "Oh..I don't know all that Latha. He takes care of all that stuff." I have friends who do not know the salary they earn or what their bank accounts hold. Every woman needs to know a means to earn.
5. Learn to cook and clean. These days most of the men know basic cooking and cleaning. Yet there are scores of men who do not know a thing in the kitchen. My dear ladies, teach your man how to cook and make the kids get ready to school. Your parents will be too old to support you or your neighbors cannot keep sending dishes forever.
6. Slow down. Life is a race. We all are running to meet ends. And the little time we have on hand is spent on trivial matters that don't really need our time.
7. Good Relations.  There is a saying in Telugu, "Noru manchidaite, vooru manchidi avutundi". Which is "If your tongue is sweet, your village is sweet with you". I know the true translation sounds funny but it really means to maintain the good relations with our near and dear without slipping our tongue. A quote that resonates:  "You can change your world by changing your words... Remember, death and life are in the power of the tongue." Joel Osteen. 
8. Save. Save for a rainy day. I don't think we need to be stingy to save nor splurge on extravaganzas. Try to strike a balance between saving and spending.
9. Be Practical. Teach your kids the harsh realities of life. Since we faced hardships growing up doesn't mean we have to protect them from those. Let them know that life could turn upside down any moment.

The list could go on and on..We can never be 100% equipped all the time waiting to face an emergency situation. However, it will be a tad bit easier to pull ourselves together when everything falls apart. With this, I want to bid good bye to an eventful year. Hoping the next year brings more peace and love for all of us; I wish you all a Happy New Year! 

We don't develop courage by being happy every day. We develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity.  -Barbara De Angelis

P.S: If you haven't thought about it so far, start thinking about your plan B!

Life

Posted By Found In Folsom

Warning: This post is not intended to target any one person. All the opinions are purely the writer's ramble.

I hate Desis! Oh well, hate is a strong word, they say. Rather, I don't like desis. These days, it's one of the in things. Like wearing pants that show your bottoms, heaps of hair on the top of the head, like growing beards, over sized watches...like many of these things we see and hear everyday, dislike a desi being a desi. I hear this statement so often. Also, I have noticed not all immigrants have this special dislike for desis. There are certain categories. I don't want to single them lest they all file a law suit on me. Anything is possible in this country, you know!

This special section of desi disliking desi disorder can be found anywhere. At your work place, at your common parties, in your community club etc.They do not like to gather with a lot of Indians, send kids to a Montessori with Indian teachers, they don't like to visit Indian doctors (poor fellas work their asses off than anyone else to settle in their profession), don't visit Indian restaurants. Though many Americans love Indian food, this tribe carries their pride in savoring over Sushi and dining at a Lebanese or an Ethiopian restaurant.  For that matter, they have nothing to do with India at all except feel unlucky for being an Indian. (The unlucky part, I made it up :P).

Mom lives with us here and has come across this increasing breed in recent days. That's when a few questions sprang up in our discourse.

1. Aren't we all desis? Aren't we here like any other one of them? To make a livelihood? Then why hate the same breed so much?
2. When you don't like Desis so much, why do you live among them? Why don't you buy a home in a place where there is no Indian population at all? May be go to Alaska..just a thought. I know folks who have done that too, BTW, Not Alaska really...
3. Why do you celebrate Indian festivals? Eat Indian food?
4. If your kid is sick, why do you call your desi grandma and ask for home remedies?
5. Why this touch me not attitude? 

Living among Indians, helped me in many ways. There are times when either of us can't drop or pick our kids from schools. I just have to call one of our neighbors and they do it for us. One of our neighbors had their family visit and all of them wouldn't fit in their car. We were more than happy to lend our van. Last weekend, there was a talk show of my favorite writer and we were wondering what to do with the kids. I just had to knock on a door and drop her there. The same neighbor called mom to ask if she can cook and send something as she was sick for past 3 days. It is mutual. Folks, there is an unexplained camaraderie in the desi community. Many of our organisations are going above and beyond in extending a helping hand to our community. One needn't face unforeseen circumstances to experience it. Next time when you utter: "Oh..Desis!"; Remember! If you aren't tolerant to your own kind, no one else will be!

It's implied that you be a Roman in Rome. One may change the way he dresses, talks, walks, eats but not the way he's born. That doesn't make you any less Indian. 

P.S: Let me admit, this post rose from my own intolerance and how I grew out of it.
P.s.s: I hope you all like this new template...more peaceful and simple compared to my old one.

Scribbles

Posted By Found In Folsom

The alarm buzzed at 6:15 am. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and yanked my plantar fasciitis foot to avoid the shooting pain that crept occasionally. I walked to turn the kitchen light on with half-closed eyes.

I switched off the fan mechanically like a robot. Brushed my teeth and stepped into the kitchen for making lunch boxes for that day.

As I take out the chapati dough from the fridge, a thought passes my mind.

A dear friend is moving out of her marriage. Thousands of miles away, I am helpless.

I boil milk for my daughter; in a steel vessel. They say microwave is not good for health.

Another Ebola case in my city. Poor girl. All of twenty-six. She was doing her duty after all.

Salad is packed for the husband.

A  friend was happy last week as he was getting married. 

While I look for the Garlic croutons in the pantry. I realized. His wedding got canceled.

I pulled a small lump of dough from the big one. Rolled it in my palms.

One mom I knew came to help her daughter. She walked away due to some differences.

I pressed the ball of dough on the wooden plate. Rolling the palak paratha for son's lunch.

That mom's sister once said to my mom, your daughters are not worth the dust of her kids' feet.

Some kind of pride rose in my heart. Things come back in circles. The same kid that fought with her mother now. Whose dust on shoes I am not equal to?

I smeared a pinch of ghee on the palak paratha. Let it stay soft till lunch.

A couple married for 22 years fell apart. They have been falling apart. I just watched. Helpless. A part of my heart ached. Silently.

Lunches are packed and I run to shower. Warm Water hits my face.

Cyclones in my homeland. Homes shattered. No electricity. No water. Warm Water? Are you mocking? What can I do to help?

I grabbed the half glass of milk and flushed it down my daughter's throat. Changed her clothes and made her braids. Lean like her.

Apply your moisturizer. Instruction passed. For the millionth time in ten years. He is not picking up on his English vocab yet. Waiting for his clinical evaluation results. 

Come, let's go. I pull her along with me to the car. I lock the main door. 

The cold breeze of a fall morning hits us. We smiled at each other. Amma, I am not late, right? Yes, you are. A little bit. NO..I am not! 

Nothing stops!

I leave the house another morning. Perplexed!

Image Courtesy: Galleryhip.com

Scribbles

Posted By Found In Folsom

Naani loved jumping in the puddles. However, today she was in no mood. She avoided them and stepped onto the pavement. She took the longest route yet  her house seemed to have appeared sooner.

Jayamma who was waiting for her rushed to her.

"Did you find him?"

"No, Ammamma. I looked for him in every street" Naani exaggerated. Jayamma was getting restless.

"Did you ask anyone if they have seen him?"

"I did. I asked Venkanna from who we bought the bananas. He said taata took the 5.30 bus to the town."

"He did?"

Naani nodded her head. Jayamma knew it. She knew it all along. She knew her efforts would be futile.  Her eyes filled with tears. Naani went inside quietly to change her wet clothes.

That night Naani lied down on the folding cot under the open sky and waited for Jayamma to come to her. The unusual activity made her tired and counting the stars; Naani slept off. It was past midnight when she felt a small chill and looked for the blanket that normally rested at her feet. She didn't find one. She didn't find her ammamma too next to her. She woke up to go and get the blanket. Jayamma was sleeping alone inside. Naani went and snuggled her.

Naani woke up late the next morning. It was second Saturday which meant two holidays and more playing with Sumathi. But today did not feel like a holiday. Ammamma was quieter than usual. Today she did not even have breakfast. Naani felt sad. In a small voice, she called “Ammamma”.

“Ummm..” There was a moan kind of whisper from Jayamma.

“Will taata come tonight?"

"No”, answered ammamma almost to herself. It was as though ammamma knew that taata wouldn't come home that night.

“Ammamma when will he return?", she asked dread filling her insides. She no longer felt like having breakfast.

Jayamma replied, "Monday Morning"

"How do you know?"

"You will see for yourself"

 Naani nodded and tried to understand.

****************************************************

Finally, it was Monday morning. Naani was brushing her teeth in their backyard when she heard the clank of the gate. Happily she ran. Her taata was right there. Ammamma was right all along!

"Taata is here!". She shouted, her mouth still full of toothpaste. But something was not right. His clothes were untidy.  Not just untidy, he looked shabby and dirty.

"Taata, where were you?" Little did she realize that he was half deaf. He smiled at her and went inside. Naani was surprised that Jayamma didn't say anything to him. She did not even look happy to see taata back.

She ran and tugged at her sari. "Ammamma, taata is home". Jayamma was silent. "Ammamma, taata is home".

"I  know, said Jayamma silently”.

"You were looking for him on Friday. He is home now".

"I know".

Naani didn't know what else to say. The silence was awkward. She slowly went and picked her books to write. She watched her taata brush, shave and go to the bathroom. Naani saw Jayamma rummaging through his dirty clothes. She went from pocket to pocket, only to find it empty. He came out with a towel wrapped around and switched on the iron.

Jayamma lifted the dirty dhoti with a stick and dangled it in front of him. "What is this?" Naani couldn't help laughing at her ammamma's sarcasm. Her taata yanked it away in a jerk. Naani felt scared.

Wearing a clean white dhoti, he walked out. Out of the same iron gate where she had been hanging for the past three days waiting for taata to return in big long strides. On the soft muddy roads hardening after the rain.

Jayamma slumped onto the floor and leaned against the gas cylinder in the corner of the kitchen. Naani ran inside. She knew her ammamma was about to cry. She was scared when elders cried. She wanted to hug her ammamma, tightly. Something drew her back. She stood there, silently. Jayamma held her last pair of gold bangles with her fingers loosely as if she was going to drop them any moment.

The house was filled with silence and it made Naani awkward. The same awkward silence Naani felt half an hour back. She bent her head pretending not having seen anything. But deep inside, she wanted to run. Somewhere where there was no silence. Where her taata didn't disappear on the Friday before second Saturdays, and she didn't have to run to the bus stand to fetch him, where her taata didn't come back with dirty dhoti and a stench on Monday mornings. Where ammamma didn't have to stare at the crumpled bills from the Kirana (Grocery) store and the current office with trembling hands, where ammamma would be wearing her last pair of bangles and not holding them between her fingers. Naani wished her taata never went to the clubs and spend his entire salary playing cards.

P.S: A special thanks to Sridevi Datta in helping me do a wonderful job in completing my first short story. Thank you for all your time.

Stories from Life

Posted By Found In Folsom

"Naani.... Naani", Jayamma called out to her nine year old granddaughter. Pressing her palms on the cold black floor to get up, "Aaaa...coming. What Ammamma? I finished my homework already. I just went to play." replied Naani with a frustrated face for being pulled away from the serious game of Ashta Chamma she was playing with Sumathi, the neighbor kid.

"Listen. Go to the school and accompany your taata  home"

"Again?"

"Yeah..Please go fast. Stick with him only. Don't let him leave you and bring him home". Trying not to show her frustration and disappointment, Naani set to run to the school which was at the other end of the village. It was a cloudy sultry evening. As Naani ran, dust rose from her rubber slippers and her pigtails wagged. When she reached his classroom she was panting. Beads of sweat dripped from her temples.  Wiping off the sweat with her frock sleeve, she composed herself and looked around the half empty class. Taata was nowhere.

She ran to the staff room and found the junior science teacher. He always had a smile upon his face and Naani liked him. Seeing her, he wished her and enquired after her well being and how the school was going. But today Naani was in no mood to answer.  She asked if he saw her taata. "I think I have seen him going that way". Saying that, he pointed towards the Principal's room. 

Having been to the school many times, she knew almost every teacher and was familiar with every room. She headed straight to the Principal's room. There she stood still for a minute contemplating. Do I go in or not? Do I knock before going in? Good Manners say that I do.  But who cares about good manners if I don't find him on time? Biting her last nail, she parted the curtain slightly and peeped inside.  Thank god! taata was there!

She waited outside. Impatiently. Each minute felt like an eternity. Her taata came out after ten minutes. Holding his dhoti in his right hand and adjusting something in his shirt pocket with the left hand. Naani jumped to her feet on seeing him. 

He smiled at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing. I came to walk home with you"

But taata knew why she had come. He knew Jayamma had sent her. Looking at her he said, "you go home. I have some work in the bazaar. I will come after some time."

She was in no mood to listen. Jayamma's words rang in her ears. "Don't listen to what he says. Just stick with him and no matter what bring him home". She was determined to not leave him. She argued. "No. I don't want to go home. You also come with me". 

Sensing the firmness of her tone, he said he was going to the bazaar. Naani decided to follow him. Her taata walked fast. He always did. It was hard for her nine year old legs to catch up the pace of her taata's. With each stride of his, she ran three steps. Her legs ached when they reached the bazaar. Nonetheless, she was proud of herself for not giving in and following him. Ammamma would be happy to see her with taata.

Naani all of nine years felt small beside her fifty year old taata. But she felt happy walking the red dusty roads with him. He with steady long strides and she with hopping beside him to catch up. There were clouds in the sky and very sultry. Finally they reached the bazaar. Her taata stopped near the bus stop.  

Taata met an acquaintance and started talking to him. Naani was getting impatient.  She could have played so many rounds of Ashta Chemma by now. But Sumathi would have gone by the time she reached home and Nagamani her step mom would also have woken.

Naani realized it futile thinking about all these things. Instead she would just drag her taata home.

Clutching his shirt sleeve, she started shouting, “Come taata! Come! Let's go. You finished talking to that man, na?"

Her taata leaned his ear toward Naani. He had been partially deaf forever she knew. She yelled into his ears. No use. The entire bazaar could hear her except her taata. Ammamma said his deafness was very convenient. He always heard what  he wanted to hear and not what everyone said. Naani’s words finally made sense to him "Let's get some bananas", he said. Naani was happy. They could go home after buying the bananas. She couldn't wait any longer! Maybe she could still play another round of Astha Chamma. She prayed that Nagamani would still be asleep when she reached home.

Her taata went to the nearest shop which sold cool drinks, candies, weekly magazines and bananas. He bought a dozen bananas and placed them in Naani's hands. He said, "Take them and go home. I will come after some time. I  have some work in the bazaar ."

Naani  was disappointed.

"No taata. I don't want to go. You also come with me."
But  taata was adamant. He promised her he would be home in an hour. Giving up Naani  headed home.

Jayamma was talking to the house owner over the parapet wall when Naani returned. Her pounding heart stopped for a second the moment she heard clang of the iron gate. Naani walked inside with her head bent and a dozen bananas in hand. Jayamma rushed after  her.

"Where is taata?"

"He said, he will come later"

"I told you to bring him home"

"He wouldn't...."

"I told you not to listen to what he says"

"I did ammamma. He said he had to go to the bazaar . I followed him there also."

"Then.......?"

"I waited for him for so long. He kept talking to people and looking at the buses and never listened to me". Naani who was holding her tears at the brink of the eye almost burst. Jayamma was in no position to listen to anything at that moment.

"Okay. don't cry now. Go and see if you can find him and wait there till he comes home."

"Okay, ammmama. I will", said Naani obediently. This time she ran even faster. The clouds burst and it started raining. She cursed herself and the rain at the same time.  By the time she reached the bazaar, she was completely drenched. But miraculously it stopped raining.

She looked around the place where taata left her. She went to the shop. "Venkanna, did you see my taata?" Having seen her many times with the Science teacher, Venkanna recognized her immediately. 

"Yes papa. He was with you a while ago, right?"

"Ayyo... Venkanna, after that. If I go with him, why will I look for him?"

"Aaaa...right...right"

 Finally Venkanna remembered.

"Oh, I have seen him get into the 5:30 bus going to the town. Did you not go with him?"

She went to the bus stand and sat on the bench. She knew he was gone. She tried to swallow the tears and the lump in her throat. What was she going to tell ammamma? Half an hour passed by. She knew it was no use waiting any longer. She dragged her feet home.

Ammamma = Maternal Grandmother
Taata  = Grandfather
To be concluded.....

Stories from Life

Posted By Found In Folsom

As the world was busy celebrating Diwali, I was happy that S joined us finally after staying away from the family for a few months and I took a deep breath. On the other hand, the reunion brought smiles and sorrow at the same time. Smiles for all of us, sorrow for me. What kind of a person would whine when her husband joins after months? Coming to the point, the reason for my sulking is S bought a new car. Now, why would anyone cry if you buy a new car? You should be rejoicing with joy, distributing mithai and pictures on Facebook. Well, he bought a car of his choice and not mine.

Then began the process of nagging and reeling the flashbacks and reminding him on how he always bought the car he wanted etc...etc. Because this is a repetition of the car buying tradition. My frustration reached saturation and I went on thinking of all the curses that have been my prized possession over the years. My imagination took wings to paint the car saying, "I'm a piece of shit"!! Like those cars that are painted, " Just Married"! Gosh! Crazy girl! What are you? Nuts?? Peak of madness is what it is called.

I even wanted to smack it and whack it with my new mortar pestle. I fumed and sulked though he promised me to buy what I wanted after purchasing a home. I cried with my closest friends and confided all my devilish wishes of destruction. 

If y'all remember Scarlett O'Hara of 'Gone with the Wind' fame, that is exactly what I was trying to be. Trying not to think of the problem right now. I was okay as long as I didn't see that thing in the garage. I thought I was slowly getting over it. However, I swore I wouldn't step into it. 

This Tuesday, right before noon, we were all busy with our work. Some working, some chatting and some getting ready for lunch. There was a scream from the corridor outside our closed room. Something has happened. I wanted to go and see what has happened. But I didn't want to add to the crowd. After few minutes when I looked out of the window, I noticed the fire and police. Someone said they were doing CPR on a person. Within minutes, they took her on a stretcher. Later that noon, our manager informed that she had a cardiac arrest and she was undergoing a surgery. Not a good news to hear, but I was glad she got the needed help on time. I went to bed that night with a silent prayer. 

Next day morning, there was an email saying she passed away. She is survived by a husband and two kids aged 11 and 7. She came to work in the morning like any of us did, expected to get back home to her family like all of us. What's going to happen to the kids for the rest of their lives? With Thanks giving and Christmas round the corner, they won't have their mama with them? How terrible! My heart bleeds at the thought of the poor kids. 

While trying to sink in everything that is happening around, I talk to a friend on the phone that noon about this incident that happened at work. We felt sorry for the family and were discussing how short and unexpected life has become. Jokingly the friend says, and see you are fighting over a silly car. I smiled. No. I laughed at myself. 

Today morning after I pulled my car from the driveway and turned it around, I paused for a second, glanced at the new car for the first time. After all, life is short!!!

P.S: Rest in Peace Michelle May! You will be in our prayers!

S

Posted By Found In Folsom

In this world of nuclear families, we seldom opt to live with our parents except for few people. The only time they are with us are either for holidays, any special occasions or if either the parents or we are not keeping well. In case of us who are staying abroad, parents visit us once in a while and when they do, they do stay for 6 months. Staying so far away from home land, we definitely do miss our family and are very excited on their arrival. At the same time, we are used to a certain lifestyle and their presence seem to be an intrusion to our daily schedules. It takes time for them and for us to adjust to each other again.

Okay, let me not beat about the bush. I'm coming there to the point. With all my experience and expertise, here I come up with a small lecture to bore you guys:

1. Never say bad things or complain about their son aka your hubby. Do not point out his in-capabilities. Do you really think it's going to work? Bleak chances of your problem being solved. 
2. We all know you are a social butterfly who has a wagon of friends. But, keep them aside for a while. Don't speak on the phone for long. Especially guys. Do you really want to gossip with your girl friends? Do it offline.
3. I think this should stand as the first point. If they love to cook, leave the kitchen to them. If you feel they'll mess up your kitchen, that's okay. You can fix it later. If you think your $400 cooking set is going to get spoiled, stow away into the garage and get one for $50 while they are here.
4. They have come a long way leaving their nest, their neighbors, relatives and everyone. You confined them to the four walls the whole day. So, they would love to go out. Be it shopping or to the park. Let them go..forget the front seat of the car for the next 6 months. If they want something, buy it for them. You aren't going to save a fortune on their shopping.
5. Even if they are REALLY extra nice people, do not bitch about your hubby, SIL or your own family too. Remember, blood is thicker than water. You are always an outsider. Every word counts. In some moment of weakness, you crib about your mom's side of the family, you are putting your head in their hands. 
6. If you don't like them interfering in kids' matters, tell it slowly and softly or through their sons. Rudeness just make matters worse. Kids try to take advantage of the extra love and affection they are getting in this period. Be firm with the kids.
7. It's okay to not show them every single thing that you shop. Some are happy that you are able to buy what you want, while some think you are wasting money on useless stuff. What they don't know, won't hurt them.
8. Parents want that extra time with their son. That doesn't mean they are taking away your hubby. If you think they influence him or he listens to them and takes it out on you, make it even with him. Go on a date, speak your heart out and ask what has changed? This is the most difficult and crucial spot.
9. Guys, your eating habits must have changed after marriage. So, try to make a balance when appreciating the food made by mom or wife. You could hit a raw nerve here.
10. In this last stage of life, what are they here for? After all, to take good care of your kids, serve you hot food and live the rest of the life with fond memories. They deserve a little respect and love. 

P.S: I have written this as a DIL. These are applicable to all with slight modifications. It's almost Wednesday...

Scribbles

Posted By Found In Folsom

When I was pregnant : My Wish -  I just wish it's a boy!!
As we both were girls, I wanted my baby to spare the troubles that we faced as girls.

When my son was an year old : No wishes then. I was just happy to see him walk, learning to talk and impress us with his smiles and new learnt joys.

When he was 4 years old : My wish -  I wish he just stays at school without being expelled for his mischief.

When he was 7 years old : My wish -  I wish my son becomes a Pilot.

When he was 9 years old : My wish - I just want my son to become a compassionate human being who can respond to needs.

Now, he will turn 10 in another couple of weeks : My strongest wish ever - I pray god my son doesn't turn into a perverted rapist!!

As humans, we all have plenty of wishes and dreams of our kids. And I think I am one such hopeful parent. For the past few years, my goal has been to rise a son who would be a good citizen.  These days, unfortunately, with the turn of events happening around us, all I could hope for is my latest wish. :(

Scribbles

Posted By Found In Folsom

People hate to say your name

Be it old or young

For they want to live their life;

People fear you

For you come in strange ways

Without notices;

People hate you

For your aberrant forms;

People hate you

For you take away loved ones

Without warnings;

People hate you

For you deprive them

Of their sole purpose to live;

People hate you

For reasons innumerable;

Yet, your journey continues

to a different household,

to a new family,

each minute;

People still hope

For those you carried away

to Rest in Peace!

Scribbles

Posted By Found In Folsom