A secret garden

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.”
  Alfred Tennyson

I was watching a Malayalam move the other day” Arike” (“So Close”) by Shyam Prasad..It is the story of what appears to be an intense romantic relationship. The story of two young lovers who are so deeply in love and cannot think of a life without each other.And  they decide to live together and have submitted the application for their marriage and  waiting for those few long days to pass.

The story is passionate and touches you and evokes all your romantic fantasies and memories.

While reading a love letter she just received, she tells her friend ‘I never received such an intense love letter from anyone before.I know it is because he hasn't seen me for few days"

“So you mean to say you had love affairs before?” asks her friend.

"Ah, yes, I often fall in love,but this one is different. I started while I was in eighth standard in school. There was this good looking boy who was in love with me and I said I will commit suicide if I don’t marry him. He was transferred to another school when his father changed his job. Then again I fell in love while I was doing Pre degree”.

Her friend is shocked to hear this.  All the time she was thinking that this was the only true love she had seen.

Towards the end of the story, the girl easily walks out on the boy, leaving him confused and stranded.

Had she actually loved this boy?

Is falling in love a sickness?

Do people who fall in love do it repeatedly?

Is love an addiction?

I am sure there are people out there who would argue that if you fall out of love, that was not true love, only infatuation. But then, what is true love? Is there a love without a physical component to it? Isn’t love like an addiction?

For many years, I carried a burden. There was a lingering ache that formed the reason for a million regrets... And took time to heal and recover.

Looking back, I don’t regret the time I messed up, but I know now I could have been hurt less and created even more possibilities for myself, if I had known what relationships meant.

Time changes relationships.

Pictures never change, but the people in them do. Your best friend can become your worst enemy, or your worst enemy can turn into your best friend. ‘Forever’ turns into a few short months. You can let go of something or someone, you once said you couldn’t live without. And you are the living proof. The person, who once wanted to spend every second with you, go on living, not even bothering where you are or what has happened to you. People make promises despite knowing how common it is for those promises to be broken.  People can erase you from their lives just because it’s easier for them to go on with their own lives.

You might think you made the biggest mistake of your life, and if only you didn’t do it you wouldn’t be in pain right now. Don’t take that road…..there’s nothing good down there. I tried it and it was a bumpy ride and never took me anywhere. Make peace with your past so it won’t mess up your present.

Never ignore the person who loves you, cares for you, and misses you. Because one day, you might wake up from your sleep and realize that you lost the moon while counting the stars. If someone walks out of your life, let them. There’s no use in wasting your time on people that leave you. What you make of yourself and your future  has nothing more to do with them.

I am walking away from everything I had,
I need a room with new colors,
there was a time,
when I didn’t mind living the life of others.

Are you loving the pain, loving the pain,
and with everyday everyday,

I try to move on ,
whatever it was, whatever it was,
there’s nothing now you changed new age.

So much fire that it burned my wings,
her heat was amazing,
now I’m dreaming of the simple things.
Old ways erased.
If love was a word I don’t understand,
simplest sound with four letters.

New age

“Can miles truly separate you .....?  If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there?”

Richard Bach

courtsey: Mista Bobby

On Friendship day

 He looked very shabby and tired. He hadn’t taken a bath in few days and looked depressed.

“It is my head, doctor” he said

There was a friend of his who had brought him to the clinic, who did not look   any better than the patient himself.

“Tell me more’ I said

For more than two weeks, he had this terrible head ache. Continuous headache which disturbed his sleep, and he couldn’t work. He was working as a barber in a saloon and so was his friend. He had already gone to some clinics who had given him some analgesics, but the pain was getting worse. I got some more of relevant history from him and did a quick examination. The last test, an examination of the inside of his eyes through an ophthalmoscope, told me that he had some serious problem. He had, what we doctors call ‘papilledema’, that is in simple terms ,a swelling of the optic nerve head, which in turn tells us that he has a problem in the brain.

“It is a bad situation, doctor “his friend said.

Vasu was working in a saloon as barber. He was about thirty years old, was married and had two children aged eight and six years. Both his children had some congenital ailments. It was some kind of crippling illness, and he had spent his life’s earnings for the treatment of his children. And both the kids died one after the other in the recent past. His income was meager and he could never bring his family to this place. After few years of hard work day and night, he had managed to start a small saloon himself. His friends helped him to raise some money to bring his wife to live with him, and he was just about to start a new beginning.

“And now, this”. His friend said. Vasu was all the time looking at my face and was wondering what I was going to say. His experience in life probably would have told him that the news was not going to be good.

“There is nothing to worry’ I told him. “But we need to do some more tests”

A CT scan of the brain was the next thing to be done. That would cost him about a thousand dirham and at the rate of his earning, more than a month’s income. I told him I would arrange to get it done through the governmental hospital, where I still had some good friends. 

“Will it be all right after the scan, doctor?” he probably thought that the scan was going to cure his illness.

I explained the situation to his friend that I expected some kind of problem in his brain, and it wouldn’t be an easy one.

I was surprised when he replied “whatever it comes to, we will manage, just don’t let him know about it”

After they left, I looked more depressed, and my nurse guessed it right.
"Doctor, there are more patients waiting”, she said.

I  remembered the Biblical saying .

Two things I ask of you, O Lord; do not refuse me before I die; Keep falsehood and lies far from me; give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, “Who is the Lord?” Or I may become poor and steal and so dishonor the name of my God.
Proverbs 30:7-9   NIV

Vasu was probably the third or fourth patient I had seen recently in such a situation. Life already in shambles. Neck deep in problems that cannot be solved and then getting a serious illness, and no money to  treat.

I can’t think of a worse situation than when you are sick and have no money to get treatment.

In poverty, sickness and in other misfortunes, friends are the only refuge. If you have money, life is easier in many ways. But for the poor, there is no one else to turn to. The rich and the poor both would need friendship. For the poor, it is consolation in despair. For the rich, companionship in their abundance and loneliness.

Friendship is clearly more than a social connection. It is one of the primary relationships in life, a tie at times exceeding that which bonds blood relatives.Most people seem, owing to ambition, wish to be loved rather than to love. Never be miserly in matters of love and friendship. Give, and take back in abundance.



"A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out."—Walter Winchell

Sex Frog

We have a forum of doctors from my batch.We exchange mails ,news and interesting stuff.
This was sent to me by Dr.J from the UK. All serious discussions were going on for quite some time,and I thought it is time for a change!

A beautiful, well endowed, young lady goes to her local pet store in search of an exotic pet. As she looks about the store, she notices a box full of frogs.

The sign says: "Sex Frogs! Only $20 each!
Money Back Guarantee! (Comes with complete instructions)."


The girl excitedly looks around to see if anybody's watching her and whispers softly to the man behind the counter, "I'll take one."
The man packages the frog and says,
"Just follow the instructions carefully."


The girl nods, grabs the box, and is quickly on her way home.
As soon as she closes the door to her apartment, she takes out the instructions and
reads them carefully. She does exactly what is specified:


1. Take a shower.
2. Splash on some nice perfume.
3. Slip into a very sexy nightie.
4. Crawl into bed and place the frog down beside you.

Allow the frog to follow its training.


She then quickly gets into bed with the frog and,to her surprise, nothing happens!
The girl is totally frustrated and quite upset at this point.


She re-reads the instructions and notices at the bottom of the paper it says,
 "If you have any problems or questions, please call the pet store."


So, the lady calls the pet store.
The man says, "I had some complaints earlier today. I'll be right over."
Within minutes, the man is ringing her doorbell. The lady welcomes him in and says,
"See,I've done everything according to the instructions
and the damn thing just sits there."


The man, looking very concerned, picks up the frog,
stares directly into its eyes and sternly says:


"Listen to me! I'm only going to show you how to do this one more time!" 

bringing her back

My mother used to spend her entire time at the kitchen. Ours was a large family ,my parents, my father’s sister and her daughter, my grandmother who was about a hundred years old ,and then all of us children, seven of us, all boys and me the youngest. My mother’s day would start at six in the morning, when she would start brewing  black coffee in an earthen pot. The firewood would take ages to light and it was a task I was good at, blowing through a pipe to light the firewood. Then she would milk the cow and continue cooking the breakfast. At any time, at least three of us boys would be attending school or college and we would eat whatever came to us and would still be hungry and ask for more. Often we had to be satisfied with the previous nights cooked rice which my mother would keep in a large earthen pot. She would add water to it in the morning and some cooked yoghurt, and make it what we used to call ‘Pazahnkanji’.  A green chili and onion chutney would be all we had as accompaniment. After we leave for school, she would continue her cooking for the lunch time when we also had some extra members, our relative girls who were studying at the convent school nearby.


 As the youngest in my family, I used to spend most of my time with my mother. I would just stay with her in the kitchen, taking nibbles from whatever was cooking. I would get the assistance of my brother to lift me and place me on the platform, so that I can take part in all the cooking activities. Because there was no girl child, all of us would help our mother with her cooking.

Mama's children 1980

 My mother’s recipes were simple. She had few rusty tins on a small shelf in which she would keep the chilies and spices. She would grind the curry paste on a granite slab herself. But she would cook the tastiest food I ever had. Even though we didn’t appreciate it at that time, as I grew up and left home, I realized how heavenly the food was at home, which my mother used to cook.

Recently my eldest brother and his family came to visit me. It is Ramadan time here and you cannot buy food from outside during day time. I had cooked some Masala for making Masala Dosa and after the breakfast my sister in law asked me ‘From where did you buy the food? Like our Ammachi used to make !”

She wouldn’t believe that I had cooked it.

Whenever I find time, I cook for myself. Having been alone for some time, I am used to this. And these days I enjoy doing it. My recipes are as simple as my mother’s.

When I cook, I feel as if I am bringing my mother back.

courtesy: Abhishek Scaria