കുട്ടേട്ടൻ

പല തവണ പറഞ്ഞ കഥ തന്നെയാണ്,   പണ്ട് എന്റെ കുട്ടികാലത്തു  ഞങ്ങളുടെ വീട് ഒരു വലിയ പാടത്തിന്റെ നടുകാർന്നു.ആ കാലത്ത്, എന്റെ വീടിന്റെ അവിടെ ആകെ 4-5 വീടുകളെ ഉണ്ടാർന്നുള്ളൂ. എന്റെ വീട്, മാളു താത്ത, ശാരദ അമ്മ, ഹജ്യാർ, തങ്കു വല്യമ്മ പിന്നെ ഇമ്പിച്ചി വല്യമ്മ

ഇമ്പിച്ചി വല്യമ്മക് 4 മക്കളാണ്. പ്രജീഷേട്ടൻ, പ്രബിത ചേച്ചി, സബിത ചേച്ചി, കുട്ടമോൻ.

എന്റെ കുട്ടികാലത്തു അവിടെ കുട്ടികൾ ആയിട്ട് ഞാനും ഹരിയും മാത്രേ ഉള്ളൂ, അന്ന് പ്രബിത ചേച്ചിക് ഒരു 20 വയസൊക്കെ കാണുമാരിക്കും, കുട്ടമോൻ ചേട്ടനും ഏകദേശം 15 വയസ്.

അമ്മയും അച്ഛനും തിരിച്ചു വരുന്നത് വരെ എന്നേം ഹരീനേം നോക്കിയിരുന്നത് പ്രബിത ചേച്ചി ആണ്. ചേച്ചി അന്ന് ആഴ്ച പതിപ്പിൽ വരുന്ന പാട്ടും സിനിമ നടൻ മാരുടെ ഫോട്ടോയും ഒകെ വെട്ടി വക്കും.ഞങ്ങൾ ഒരുമിച്ച് സിനിമ പേജിന്റെ വരികൾ ഒകെ പഠിക്കും.

ശനിയാഴാചയും ബാക്കി ഒഴിവുദിവസങ്ങളിൽ ഒക്കെ ഞാൻ ഒറ്റക്കാണെങ്കിൽ ചേച്ചിടെ വീട്ടിൽ പോയി ഇരിക്കും ഇടക്. നല്ല ഓല മേഞ്ഞ വീടാരുന്നു ആ കാലത്ത് ഇമ്പിച്ചി വല്യമ്മേടത്.

 വൈകുന്നേരം അമ്മ വന്നാൽ പിന്നെ എല്ലാരും കൂടെ അലക്ക് കല്ലിന്റെ അവിടെ ഇരുന്നു നാട്ടിലെ കഥകളൊക്കെ പറയും.ശാരദ അമ്മയും സബിത ചേച്ചിയും പ്രബിത ചേച്ചിയും മാളു താത്തയും എല്ലാം വരും. അമ്മ ഉടുപ്പൊക്കെ അലക്കി ഇടും ഈ സമയത്ത്. ആ സമയത്ത് എന്റെ അടുത്ത വീടുകളിൽ ജോലിക് പോയിരുന്ന സ്ത്രീ അമ്മ മാത്രമേ ഉണ്ടാരുന്നുള്ളൂ.

അമ്മ വെറുതെ ഇരിക്കണത് ഞാൻ കണ്ടിട്ട് ഇല്ല. എപ്പോഴും എന്തെങ്കിലും ചെയ്തോണ്ടിരിക്കും. അന്നൊക്കെ രാവിലെ 5 മണിക്ക് എണീക്കും., 7.30 ആവുമ്പോഴേക്കും രാവിലത്തെയും ഉച്ചക്കുള്ള ഊണും റെഡി ആകും. ജോലിക് പോവും. അന്നൊന്നും സ്കൂട്ടി ഇല്ല അമ്മക്. നടന്നാണ് പോയിരുന്നത്. സന്ധ്യ ആവുമ്പോഴേക്കും വരും, അപ്പോഴേക്കും ഞാനും ഹരിയും വീടൊക്കെ വൃത്തിയാക്കി ചായ ഉണ്ടാക്കി വക്കും, ഉടുപൊക്കെ മടക്കി വക്കും . അമ്മ വന്നാൽ പിന്നേ അലക്കലും രാത്രിക്കുള്ള ഭക്ഷണം ഉണ്ടാക്കലും ആണ്.

ഞാനും ഹരിയും ഹോംവർക് ഒകെ ചെയ്ത് അച്ഛൻ വരാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും.

അന്ന് അച്ഛൻ ജോലി കഴിഞ്ഞ് വരണത് രാത്രി 9-9.30 ക്ക് ആണ്. രാത്രി ആയാൽ പിന്നെ ചുറ്റും ആകെ ഇരുട്ടാണ്. അന്നൊക്കെ അച്ഛൻ വരുന്നത് വരെ കുട്ടമോൻ ചേട്ടൻ വീട്ടിൽ വന്നിരിക്കും.ചില ദിവസം അനി മാമൻ ചില ദിവസം മുജീബ്ക്ക അന്ന് ഇവരൊക്കെ ചെറിയ കുട്യോളാണ്. എന്നെക്കാളും 7-8 വയസ് കൂടുതൽ കാണും. അനി മാമൻ 20 വയസൊക്കെ കാണും.

ഞങ്ങൾ എല്ലാരും ഉമ്മറത്തു ഇരുന്ന് TV കാണും. അന്ന് താലി ന്നു പേരുള്ള ഒരു സീരിയൽ ആരുന്നു നമ്മൾ കാണാറുണ്ടാരുന്നത്. അച്ഛൻ വന്നാൽ പിന്നെ ഞങ്ങൾ എല്ലാരും അത്താഴം കഴിക്കും.

ആ കാലം തൊട്ട് ഇവരൊക്കെ എന്റെ ജീവിതത്തിന്റെ ഭാഗം ആണ്. കഴിഞ്ഞ 12 വർഷത്തിൽ ഞാൻ ഇവരെയൊക്കെ വർഷത്തിൽ 5-10 തവണയേ കണ്ടിട്ടുള്ളൂ.

എന്നെ എല്ലാവരും അന്ന് ദീപുട്ടി ന്നാണ് വിളിച്ചിരുന്നത്, അനി മാമൻ ദീപുട്ട ന്നും. ഇപ്പോഴും അങ്ങനെ തന്നെ, അതെ സ്നേഹത്തോടെ തന്നെ ആണ് എല്ലാവരും എന്നെ വിളിക്കുന്നതും അതെ സ്നേഹത്തോടെ ആണ് സംസാരിക്കുന്നതും.

എല്ലാ തവണയും നാട്ടിൽ ഒഴിവിന് പോവുമ്പോൾ ഇവരൊക്കെ കാണാൻ വരും വിശേഷം ചോദിക്കും. വളരെ സ്നേഹമുള്ള ഒരുപാട് പേരുടെ ഇടയിലാണ് ഞാൻ വളർന്നതെന്നു അപ്പോഴൊക്കെയും ഞാൻ ഓർക്കാറുണ്ട്.

4-5 വർഷം മുൻപാണ് കുട്ടമോൻ ചേട്ടന് കാൻസർ ആണെന്ന് മനസിലായത്. ഒരു കളിൽ പോളിയോ വന്നു ചെറിയ ബുദ്ദിമുട്ടുണ്ട്  കുട്ടേട്ടന് നടക്കാൻ. പക്ഷെ അവിടെ എല്ലാടത്തും ഓടി നടന്നു എല്ലാ കാര്യത്തിനും കാണും. വർക്ഷോപ്പില്, പണ്ട് സിഡി കടയില്, തയ്യൽ കടയില് അങ്ങനെ എല്ലാടത്തും ജോലിക് പോവും. നിറയെ കൂട്ടുകാരും.. അങ്ങനെ എല്ലാടത്തും ഉണ്ടാവും.എല്ലാരും കളിയാക്കി പറയും നിനക്ക് രണ്ടു കാലും തികച്ചുണ്ടാർന്നെങ്കിൽ എന്തായേനെന്നു. ജീവിതത്തിൽ ഇത്രേം പോസിറ്റീവ് ആയിട്ടുള്ള ആൾക്കാരെ കണ്ടുകിട്ടില്ല.

കാൻസർ ആയതിനു ശേഷം പിന്നെ പുറത്തിറങ്ങാൻ പറ്റാതെ ആയി. തിരുവനന്തപുരത്ത് RCC ലാണ് ചികിത്സ. 2-3 വർഷം കൊണ്ട് ആളെ കണ്ടാൽ മനസിലാവാത്ത പോലെ ആയി. എപ്പോഴും വീട്ടിൽ തന്നെ. വീട്ടിൽ പോവുമ്പോ ഞാനും കാണാൻ പോവും. കൊറേ സ്നേഹത്തിൽ സംസാരിക്കും.ഇന്നലെ രാത്രി കുട്ടേട്ടൻ മരിച്ചു.ഞാൻ അവിടെ ഇല്ലാത്തത് എത്ര നന്നായെന്നാണ് എനിക്ക് തോന്നിയത്. ഓരോരുത്തര് പോവുമ്പോ ആണ് അവരെത്ര പ്രാധാന്യം ഉള്ള ആൾകാരാണെന്നു ഓർക്കുന്നത്.

ഇനി പോവുമ്പോ കാണാൻ വരാൻ കുട്ടേട്ടൻ ഉണ്ടാവൂല.ഇമ്പിച്ചി വല്യമ്മേടെ വീട്ടിൽ കാണാൻ പോവാനും ആരും ഇല്ല.പക്ഷെ ഇവിടെ ഒരോർമ ആയിട്ട് ഇരുന്നോട്ടെ. എഴുതി വച്ചില്ലെങ്കിൽ മറന്നു പോവുംന്നുള്ളതുകൊണ്ടല്ല, എന്നാലും ഇരുന്നോട്ടെ. 

The Existential Crisis

                               

The one thing about Bhopal's rain is that it comes all of a sudden out of nowhere and lasts for minutes, unlike in Kerala where it rains and never stops normally. It was such a rainy day today. Me and Sabir were talking about one of his cases over an Iced tea.. He is such a cool guy, always talks about travelling, which I admire a lot. So, after the daily chit-chatting, I walked to my room. My father called and there was an, other fight scene today too, of course. For the past 5 years, the biggest issue was this constant fight between me and my parents, especially, my father. On one side, we are struggling to figure out some meaning in life and, on the other side, the unwritten rules by society that was killing me. Especially for a person coming from a village in Malappuram, such rules are even more pressurizing. Being there at 25 itself was a punishment. And after an age, dreams or passion don't make any sense to anyone.

 

The most painful thing about all of this is the constant fights that have been happening with the one person I love the most in this entire world. My father! And for the last couple of years we haven't talked, we fought! We both try, but our talks always end up in a fight and eventual tension of silence between us. The one thing about me, the worst of the traits I have is that, all my emotions, like anxiety, tension or sadness, come out as anger, temper tantrum, like my father. And I am pretty sure anyone who knows me very well would say the same: I understand the receiving end because I see that from my father. Still, I am not able to control it.

 

I am almost the female version of my father in every way. The love behind his anger, sympathy, sentiment,  empathy, kindness, unrealistic dreams and the way he walks, thinks, talks, it's all me. He is my mirror image. He is the 6-foot giant version of me. How much does it hurt when you have to raise your voice against such a person and no matter how many fights happen every day, how can you sleep without hearing from that person?

 

But then, however you may love a person, how can someone live against their own intuitions or beliefs? But one thing is sure; being you is not an easy task folks!

.

 

The coldness that sweeps in to my emotions

I was reading yesterday, and it came to my attention that it is World Suicide Prevention Day. I recently went through a tough time in life a few months ago, and I used to have suicidal thoughts for a few days.It was tough because even when life was offering so much, people were offering so much, even when everyone was trying to help me in the best possible way they could, even though I wanted to appreciate those efforts, I was not able to. Even though it was a temporary feeling, it was a scary time indeed. You know somewhere, somehow, you are tired, and you don't want to take any more effort to make anything right!

But such moments pass, those thoughts disappear, and then when everything settles down, you get a new level of appreciation for the people you are surrounded by. You realize things that make sense and also things that never make sense.

Over the past four years I have lost two very close friends to suicide. I do not want to mention names, as I am not sure how appropriate that is.

It was a night three years ago. I was home talking to Hari when my friend Megha called me to tell that one of our very close friends committed suicide. I heard the news, but I didn't cry. I didn't even feel anything for a while. I remembered how close we were, how we used to sit together in class, and how important she was in my life. Still, I was not able to cry. I was sad for days for sure; she was my friend, one of my close friends, who had a profound influence on my life and with whom I have countless memories.

One year later, the same news came to me about another friend of mine. I was in Thrissur at the time, living in a single room. I was just checking my Facebook to see the conversations we had, and there was one unread voice message sent by him. I opened it and read it. It was sent one week before. I did wish I had replied to that before; would that have made any difference?

I don't remember the exact things that went through my head those days, but I was thinking that if such news had hit me 5–10 years before, I would have been crying my heart out. Is it that with age we lose the emotional intimacy that we had with people, or is it that we realize that life is like this, or is it the profession that I am in? What made this difference? But for sure, I don't feel things with the same intensity anymore, not just sadness but every other emotion. Even though I appreciate the little things in life, I don’t feel like I'm on cloud nine anymore. Is that being emotionally cold, or ' is that emotional maturity? I am not sure.

But with every passing year, I realize that not everything is in our control. Things can go wrong, and being sad about it is not going to change it. People can hurt us, and there is nothing we can do about it if not doing anything is the best reaction. And the one way to be happy in life is to accept life as it is and not worry much about it. All we can do is hope for the best and work for the things that are in our control.

So when life treats you badly, when everything falls apart and nothing works out the way you want it to, it is good that you become a little cold emotionally so that you can protect yourself from getting hurt. In such situations, there is nothing else left to do but find hope. Like Red finds Andy’s message in the box, hope is a good thing,the best of things,and good things never die.

Red and Brook were not different in the circumstances they were in, but there was Andy to refill hope for Red, which Brook didn't have.

And the thing about hope is that it is not something that one should have when there is a possibility of some good things happening in the future. But it is something one should have even when there is no practical possibility of anything good in front of you, even when there is no ray of light, even when there is nothing to look forward to.

Hope is the mere understanding that, like Stephen Hawkins said in the film  'The Theory of Everything',

"However bad life may seem, there is always something that you can do and succeed at".It is the passion that one should have for something that they can do; it is the passion that one should have for life itself.

When I was in 10th standard, my Malayalam teacher, Jaya Miss, sang the first line of a poem. I don't remember the exact lines, but the summary was like this:

Who do you like the most?

Myself

Who do you like the most next?

That was the first two lines of the poem, and she asked us to guess the next line. She asked me, and I said myself. It was almost right; the poem was like this:

"എറ്റവും ഇഷ്ടം ആരെയാണ്?

എന്നെ.

പിന്നെയോ?

എന്നെത്തന്നെ "

 

I don't remember clearly, but it was implied as the selfishness of humans in that literature, as children we were taught to be selfless. But now we have reached a state where we have unlearned it to love ourselves first.

Self-love..

And it takes so many bitter experiences to understand the meaning of that word. That in every situation, we should be capable of choosing ourselves first.

Even when there is no one to love you, no one to pull you out of the darkness, and even when there is nothing to look forward to, you should be able to choose yourself, push yourself, and love yourself no matter what. Hope is self-love itself too.

A couple of years ago, I read a poem on Facebook that was posted by a teacher whom i personally didnt know.

He writes in the ending of that poem named "ആത്മഹത്യക് ഒരുങ്ങുന്ന ഒരാൾ" that for every man who decides to commit suicide, others might wonder that there are so many paths to escape, but he doesn’t see it, and the poet continues...

"മാറ്റിപിടിയ്ക്കാൻ ആളില്ലാതെ,

താങ്ങി താങ്ങി തളർന്നുപോകുന്നതല്ലേ

ശരിക്കും അയഞ്ഞുപോകുന്നതല്ലേ!

അല്ലാതെ,

അറിഞ്ഞുകൊണ്ടാരെങ്കിലും..."

He stops there.

I cannot stop but appreciate the beauty and pain in those lines.

I feel the pain in those lines—the emptiness and the heaviness he carried in his heart.

The poet suicided few weeks after posting this beautiful piece of art online.

Painful!!

What we can do is not make our hearts that heavy,  breathe freely, and to keep it simple. Once we overcome that emptiness, once we start to see hope even when there is no possibility of it, we realize that life is much more than what we have known yet, that it is worth living even when it breaks you and that the purpose of life is living it itself in your best possible way!

Realities of growing up

 

At some point or another, none of us wanted to grow up. I think many get that feeling after growing up, but I used to feel this way from the very childhood itself.somehow somewhere I used to feel like a grownup since very childhood. I was one of the eldest children in my family, and I used to feel very old all my life. Somewhere, I feel like I've never felt like a child.

When I passed my 4th standard, I became very upset because I had this sudden realisation that I was changing from LP to UP. The new school was far away from my home, and it was all scary to me. My mom was cooking something in the kitchen, and I was as tall as her tummy back then. I went and hugged her, and I didn't really tell her anything. As a child, I never used to open up anything to anyone; I would rather bottle up everything, but I was feeling these overwhelming fears of growing up.

This feeling has never left me since then. I was always afraid of growing up; maybe the right word is not afraid. I just loved being a child so much that I never wanted to change from that setting.

I lived in a small house in the centre of a big paddy while I was a child. There were not many people in that area at that time, so we didn't have any kids nearby either. So I didn't have any childhood friends, and I don't have memories of playing with children back then. The friends I had were my cousins and my own sister, but among them I had the role of an elder sister; we also met during Sunday evenings or vacation.

My life until college was pretty much the same. I used to wake up early, clean the front yard, go to school or tuition, and come back by evening to water the plants and make tea. My mother would come back by 6 or 6.30. Me, Hari, and Amma would talk while she worked in the kitchen. My father would come back by 7-8, we would have tea, me and Hari would do homework, we would eat dinner, and we would go to sleep by 10. On Sundays, I used to have dance class, drawing class, or tuition class later in the year. On Saturdays and Sundays, we go to Tharavadu, Ammachan Ammamma, and all my cousins are there.

My father had two automobile shops then; one was a little far away, and the other was close to my home. My grandpa used to run it. I would make tea, and I and Hari would either take it there or he would come home. He used to sleep on the charupadi in the car parking, and later he would go to the backyard and we would help him water the coconut trees. When we were in our old house, my father used to water them too.

My life was pretty much the same for 17 years while I was home. I don't remember being lazy or tired on any of those days. Even when I had bad days, it never affected my daily life.

The one thing I noticed about being independent or while staying away from family is that the bad days are so bad that they sometimes turn into bad weeks or even bad months and affect daily life. Some days, it's pretty much impossible to even get out of bed. There are nights of crying and worrying about the future. While I was a child, while I was home, whatever bad things happened, it was all okay because I used to come back home by the end of the day, and I was not alone there; every warmth that I ever needed was there to calm all the storms.

It's pretty difficult to find people who want to make us feel at home. I survived outside alone all these years because, at every point, I had some or other friends who were home for my heart.

But with every passing year as we grow older, the number of friends we have decreases. I feel, or may be I find it very difficult to trust people, so I decrease the size of my circle and the importance that I give people.

While I was a kid, I had a lot of people to look up to. Nothing ever felt blank anywhere; I was always busy, and there was always something to push you forward. But lately, the meaning of life and the big philosophical questions trouble me. But it is true that life gets more interesting with every passing year. We have more realisations, more ideas, more dreams, more opportunities, and new people.

It's not necessary that every new experience is good, that every new person who comes into your life is good, or that the ideas you get exposed to are good. Some of the ideas can get you into trouble, some people can shatter your healed heart all over again, and some experiences can traumatise you for life. But it's all still new. And you do grow up and glow up differently with them; you become stronger than ever, and you do start to appreciate life in a whole different way. It is said that a part of you has to die to heal, to learn, and to make the best of what you are.

So even though it is painful, tough, and heartbreaking, growing up is an adventure if you look at it that way. Childhood was beautiful because we grew up. And life is beautiful because it is uncertain, and we are beautiful because we are all temporary.

So it's okay. Even though it's scary, it's still pretty!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Teacher's Day

 

'

Today is Teachers Day, and these are my memories of some of the best teachers of my life. I was a very sensitive child, and at every stage of my life, my academic performance was greatly affected by my teachers. I have studied subjects that I never liked just because my teachers were good and vice versa. -

Even though I had good teachers in every class, my most memorable experiences with teachers were during high school. Being studied in government schools, I had studied in 4 schools in 12 years. During high school, i joined Khmhs Alathiyur. At that time, my school had only 8th, 9th, and 10th standards. Now we have higher secondary classes as well.Every standard had almost all divisions from A to P, and each division had around 60–65 students. At one time, our school was the one with the highest number of students attending the SSLC exam.

My grade was 8th A when I joined my school, and my class teacher was Saleena Miss. She teaches social sciences. She was always like a mother to me. Even now, after these many years, we have contact, and when I go home, Megha and I mostly go and see her. She always used to tease me in class, as I have a serious concentration deficit. I would always go into daydreams in between classes, so she would ask me, Where all did you go? Now come back to class. She always encourages me to study and talks very proudly about me to my mother. When we were in 9th grade, Miss had some issues with her joints and was having trouble walking. So our class was shifted to the ground floor. Next year, when we were in 10th grade, she had to take leave, and Sukumaran sir became our class teacher and Moideen sir was our social science teacher. After school, during every vacation, we meet and talk about all of my batchmates and my own life. One day, a few years ago, when I was doing my MBBS, one of our schoolmates died in an accident. She called me at night, told me that she was very upset and felt like calling me, and asked me to take care while driving. Every time we talk, she showers me with the utmost love, care, and concern.

Ansari Sir was my biology teacher in high school. During the first midterm exam, I had good marks in all other subjects, and very bad marks in biology. I was not very good at biology. Ansari sir called me to the office room and asked me why I was not studying and if there was anything wrong with his teaching. I felt very sad, and since then I've started studying biology, even though I didn't like it , i studied. He was a very sensitive human; he would get hurt even if the students didn't listen properly in class. Ansari sir was best friends with Sukumaran sir, my math's teacher, and they both would tease each other during classes. 3 years before, Ansari sir passed away. It was a Sunday, and I was attending Bhatiya's pharmacology classes. I was sitting in the last bench, and it was around 8.30 p.m. My friend Megha started calling me repeatedly, and I was wondering why she was calling again and again. Then my friend Rahul messaged me on WhatsApp that Ansari sir had an accident and passed away. I couldn't hold my tears, and I came out of the class and came to the room, where Megha and I were crying over the phone. The next day I came back home, and me and Amma went to see him one last time. It was all crowded there; a lot of my classmates, the entire school, and the entire area were there. I had to wait in an hour-long line to see him once. I was amazed by the impact that he created in so many people's lives. He was such an amazing teacher and a true human.

Sukumaran sir was my class teacher in 10 th. and he is the best math's teacher anyone can possibly ask for. i already had great interest in maths and physics and his classes made it into  passion. Sir's house was close to mine and he is someone who trusted me even when i was the biggest failure in my life, he didn't stop trusting or motivating. we used to have math quiz every week , where there will be 10 questions and who answers the most will get price. Me and my sister Hari used to get same marks as we prepare together and it would go to tie and she will get it all the time. sir would always ask me will he ever get a chance to give that price to me, sadly he didn't get . During and after MBBS i had a lot of downfalls and at a point i was thinking about dropping the profession altogether. one day i went for a marriage and he was there, it had been almost an year since i met him that time. He talked a lot and told me that when ever he get an illness, you will be the first one i call and just that 20 minutes of talk gave me enough energy to start it all over again.

Anil sir and Kasim sir were my math teachers in tuition class. They were great teachers and helped me build great enthusiasm for math. Anil sir was more of a fun kind of person and always talked to me very passionately about academics. Kasim sir was more of a professional person, and he talks very little outside of class. I couldn't keep contact with both of them after 10th grade, but I remember them often and how happy I was to attend their classes. Jaya teacher was my Malayalam teacher, and she was  mother of one of my closest friends, Theertha. She was a little strict inside class but was very supportive and inspired me to participate in essay and story writing competitions in Malayalam, and in three years while I was in highschool and even after that, I was the one who represented our district.

Raju sir in Brilliant Study Center was not a teacher who taught me, but he was all in all in brilliant Ernakulam, and every day he talked to me on how to prepare and how to handle pressure. During exam time, I get very worried, and he would call me every day to help me concentrate better. Kishore sir was my physics teacher in school. Nizamuddin sir, my Hindi teacher were also my favourites. I had one A in Hindi in 10th grade, and he was more affected than me. Nasar sir, who was my English teacher, was one of the sweetest teachers I had. He used to pamper all of his students, and he would give me 2 extra marks for good handwriting. Jisha teacher of English. Kishore sir who taught English in tuition class were also teachers who inspired me a lot and supported me immensely.

There are so many i missed in the list, during mbbs i didn't have much contact with teachers , now during residency, i have got a supportive group of seniors and teachers who kept me going through some tough times.  

Of all  the people who come across life other than parents and a very few friends teachers are the ones who genuinely want good things for us, and i always consider myself blessed to have so many!! 

 

Raksha bandhan

29th was Onam, and the 30th is Raksha bandhan. Actually, both of these festivals are connected, and I had no clue. It goes like this from the stories I read: After conquering the three worlds, Lord Vishnu, pleased with the king Mahabali's devotion, agreed to grant a wish to him. So the king took a promise from Lord Vishnu that he should accompany him to his new abode in the netherworld. Goddess Lakshmi got worried when she learned the whole story. Goddess Lakshmi reached the abode of Mahabali and told him about the thread of protection that she had brought for the king. The king was pleased to have the thread tied around his wrist, making him a brother. Honored by the gesture, King Bali grants her a wish. Lakshmi requests that Vishnu return home. As the day was a Purnima of Shravana month according to the present-day Hindu calendar, every such Purnima of this month is celebrated as Raksha Bandhan.

On the 31st, Kiran was supposed to go back to Kerala, but he didn't get a ticket, so I was under the assumption that he might not be going back today. Kiran is Chettan's friend, and I was asked to drop him off at the railway station. By 5, my duty was over, and I had wanted to cut my hair for a couple of weeks, so me and Sabir went to the 10 number. Sinduja Mam suggested a butterfly haircut, but the stylist was of the opinion that it might not look good on my hair, so I went along with the usual layer cut. Unni called in between to say that Vallyamma had some chest pain and had to take an ECG; it had some deviations, so she was asked to meet a cardiologist. I was a little worried, but they were told there is no emergency and we can meet again tomorrow. The worst thing about growing up, I believe is watching our parents become weak. its painful...

We went to Bake and Shake and ordered a lot of food. I ate my first ravioli and cinnomon roll.sabir ordered a cucumber cooler, which was yummy. it was nehla's birthday, we vedio called her but as she was working cooldnt talk much. After placing the order only i remembered that Kiran was going at 8, which he informed me 1 hour before, but it was already 8 by then, so we dropped the plan to go to Navyas. I got a rakhi for Sabir and tied it in front of the shop itself. Sabir was supposed to go to Ira's for reading, and they were waiting for him for dinner, so we dropped by at Ira's too.

Bake and Shake was one of our favorite places while we were in UG. Me, Fida, and Ancy used to go there often. Their lasagna is very tasty and used to be my favorite. My last new year of UG, I celebrated it with ancy at Bake and Shake. No other shops were open then. It was our first new year in Bhopal; usually we would all be either home or on the train during new years. If I am home, nothing much happens during New Year's night except for the 1-2 times Maneesh and Aswin Paul would scream Happy New Year while they pass by my home, and I would laugh while lying down on the bed. On trains, I do nothing but sleep. So that was the first time I was out for the new year, but nothing was there in Bhopal. While coming back, we stopped at the research center's gate, where time was shown as 00:00:00; we even missed that moment. lol. A temple near by had some Bajana, so we went there, stood there for some time, got some prasad, and came back to college by 12.15. Sabir and some other guys were dancing on the ground, playing music on their mobiles. That was the only party we had for the new year. When we reached the hostel, everyone was asleep, and we woke everyone up just to say happy new year. That was the entire celebration of that year's new year, 2019!

Coming back to the present day, while we came back, we also called Rishika to join us. We talked for hours watching students play foot ball, had a Maggie, and said good-bye for the day.

I was pretty upset at night. It was a very good day, but it got really bad at night. I had a little fight with one of my closest friends. I am a very sensitive person, and I get hurt by things very easily. I was very upset about a thing that I found was not right, and I am brutally honest about how I feel, and this always brings issues. The same happened today, but I didn't have any other option but to stand for what I believe. In the past, I used to get very upset if something like this happened, but I observed that I have changed now. Even though I get affected by people, especially by the people I really care about, very easily, and often the people we love the most hurt the most. I am now trying to not get affected by such things with the same intensity as before. Relationships with people were always tricky for me; I am not good at maintaining them, and I get overly attached and dependent on people I love-my parents, friends, relationships, and everywhere else. It's tough, but now I am trying to be mature and leave things as they are, accept things as they are, and sometimes let people go. I don't know how successful I am at that, but I am truly trying.