Reality Vs Truth


True Life!!!


I woke up early in the morning and was little bit anxious about life and was day dreaming for some time and after that I have connected to Internet to chat with some of my friends online.

Normally I will speak with my friends in US and Canada during night time but today I felt like speaking with them in the morning as it’s the weekend and all of them will find some time during weekend only.

I have gone through my orkut page and didn’t find anything interesting and after that I have checked Face book which becomes very famous now a days and you can find some interesting things like what the morning, afternoon and evening recipes in their home are and their plans for this weekend as well.

I have checked my linked in page for any of the updates regarding Documentum (The technology which I am working with and the technology which I like very much).

I found this post in one of my friends Google Buzz.

It’s a story of a Brahmin gal who loved a non-Brahmin and due to father’s compulsion married a Brahmin guy and leading a perfect life with little happiness!!

(Some tamil words included)…

 

Dearest Appa,

27th Jan’1965

 

Hope this letter finds you, Amma, Raji and Seenu in good health. The weather here in New York City is icy cold. But Avar sollraar- I have missed this winter’s biting cold. I still wish I had seen the snow… But then, I still wish I had not left Trichy at all. I do miss Trichy, Appa. You, Amma, Raji, Seenu, pakkatthaathu Rama, Vikatan,Ucchi Pillaiyaar Koil, filter coffee, Holy Cross College, the Maths Department and of course Sakthi. I know you wish I hadn’t brought his name in this letter.But not to worry Appa, I understand that you got me married to Visu because you thought it was best for your daughter.

I still remember Amma wiping her silent tears with her madisaar thalappu and you shouting at me the day I told you about Sakthi.Later, when the initial shock wore off you patiently listed umpteen reasons why I should not marry Sakthi. I agree Appa, that 20 is too young to decide, that Raji and Seenu would have been affected greatly by my ‘mistake’, the Agrahaaram would have scoffed at you… a meat eater was not a good match for someone who had never even tasted onion and garlic. The reasons were innumerous. I knew you’d still have objected and offered other reasons even if he had become a Dhigambara monk.

Visu on the other hand, wore a poonal, he is the son of Neelakanta Sastri, an Engineer and he researched about computers which is what made you jump for this alliance. Am not complaining Appa, Visu is a nice man. Tell Amma that I could not try her kozhakkattai recipe this Pongal because coconuts were too expensive and Avar nenacchar that it was ridiculous.

Anyway, we went out on Sankaranthi day and dined out. He thought it would be a good idea to invite the Chatterjees also. But I didn’t speak Bengali and Mrs.Chatterjee spoke English in an accent that comes with living years in America. Hence I made myself busy with the menu card. They ordered various species of fish,shrimp and a lot more of items I had never seen in my life. I ordered orange juice and a sandwich. The other diners thought it was queer coming to a seafood restaurant and settling for a sandwich. That day, I learnt that Avar prefer pannradhu beef, pork, bacon and seafood.

Do you know, Appa… Sakthi gave up meat because of me? I didn’t ask, he just did. But then, Sakthi is not Neelakanta Sastri’s son and that made it impossible for Subramania Iyer’s daughter Kalyani to marry him.I will keep you posted on what happens here. I don’t think I can make it to Seenu’s Upanayanam. Tell Amma not to get me a pattu podavai for the poonal, I don’t use them here. I wore it once and felt like a clown here.

 

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,
20th Oct’1968

 

We are fine here. Gautam is speaking his first words and I swear they sounded like ‘Dosai’. But Visu claims it’s just gibberish. From your previous letter, I gather that pakkathatthu Rama is married and settled in Jamshedpur. Nice to know that. Please find out her address from Saarada maami and write it to me. I want to keep in touch with her. I hope Raji is happy with her husband in Madras. I spoke to her last month, great to know that she has a phone. Do tell Seenu to study well and prepare for his school final exams.

Raji also told me that Sakthi is married now. I wish him good luck, but I could not convey the message to him. Raji refused to be the messenger and I know you have severed ties with Sakthi’s father, your long term friend Sankaravel, thanks to me. I hear his wife is his cousin… He must have succumbed to his mother’s wishes.

How did Avani Avittam go? Visu’s mother gave me a bunch of new poonals for Avani Avittam but Visu was in Boston that day. He wouldn’t have used it anyway, I haven’t seen him wear one in the last three years. Gautam is now playing with the spool of thread- mere thread it is, what else can I call it? Gautam will not even know what it signifies, I guess.

Visu is making sure Gautam grows up listening to English only. He says it will make his life easier. But I do read out passages from Ponniyin Selvan and Bharathiyaar’s poetry when I am alone with him. It’s more of reading to myself, I guess. I actually got that poetry book as a present from Sakthi, it still has his scrawling signature in the first page.

By the way, Visu saw that book and asked me about Sakthi, I told him. Hold your breath Appa, he didn’t throw me out of the house. He is a good man, no question. He said it is okay and that he doesn’t mind. And then he told me of his American girlfriend whom he was once in love with, when he first reached America- Amy, a fellow Researcher who was in a brief relationship with Visu when she was in New York. They lived together for 3 months and decided against marriage, somehow. Amy once dropped home when she was in New York. Nice lady, she was.

Ask Amma to send me Sambar Podi for this whole year. My friend Sudha is coming to Madras next week. Ask Seenu to catch the Rockfort Express and give it to her. I will collect it from her here.

 

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,
3rd June’1974

 

We have arrived here safely. After two months in India, I find it hard to adjust back to normal life here. Gautam and Ranjana demand vadai,paayasam and vaazhai ilai here. Visu’s relieved to be back in America. I left a set of my books there. If it’s not in Trichy it must be in Visu’s parents’ place. If you find them, safeguard them until my next trip. They mean a lot to me since they were gifts from Sakthi. By the way, Appa, I found out Sakthi’s present address in Madras from Rama and Saarada maami. I wrote to him. I am extremely proud to know that Dr.Sakthivel is a cardiologist much in demand there in Madras. He was thrilled to hear from me after so long. You know what he has named his daughters? Kalyani and Raagamaalika. He called me. You know what, he’s still a practising vegetarian, Appa. He didn’t revert back just because he lost me… He asked me if I still sang and whether Gautam and Ranjana could sing. I could see a proud father in him, when he claimed his daughters could sing upto Rara Venu Gopala. That’s when I remembered that I was once a good singer. I wonder why I stopped singing, wonder why I never exposed the kids to Music and Dance. But then, I realize that I had buried all that deep inside me when I left Trichy; after bidding farewell to my best Rasika, actually. Sakthi. After the call, I tried singing ’Kurai Onrum Illai’. I could not rquite reach Charanam, because of the lack of practice and more importantly because of the tears that filmed my eyes and the constriction in my throat. I sang to Visu and the kids one of these days. Though Gautam was impressed, father and daughter could not just wait for me to finish! By the way, next time some friend comes to India, send me a Sruthi Box. I would like to start singing again.

 

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,

14th Aug 1978

 

Just back after our tour to California. Find our photos, picture postcards attached herewith. After you are done with showing all family members,relatives, friends and neighbours, pass them to Visu’s parents. It was a welcome break for the four of us. But I missed my paattu class students all along and was happy to resume the classes again last evening. Did I mention in my previous letter, before we left on the tour – I finally got my driving license here. I sent a few photos to Sakthi too. He has sent me quite a few records and cassettes. I loved it! I’m reminded of AIR, almost! I’m circulating them among my friends too. And of course, playing them for my students too. They are picking up beautifully. Funny news is, I, a Tamilian, is teaching Telugu and Sanskrit kritis to a cross section of Tamil, Malayalam, Kannada,Telugu, Marathi, Bengali students in an English speaking nation. The music sessions have resulted in a reborn Kalyani, Appa. Thanks to Sakthi, really. I would have never taken it up had it not been for his reminder. I am now thinking of what life would have been like if I had indeed married him. I would have of course lost you and Amma. But right now, with this life in America, Visu and these monthly letters to you, Rama, Raji and Seenu what have i gained? I don’t find an answer, Appa. Neither do I think I ever will. Again, as I have always reiterated, Visu is a good man, no complaints there. He is every bit the son in law you wanted. Researcher, American Post-Graduate Degree holder, a dutiful husband and father,earning a comfortable income. I know it is too much to ask for anything else. That is a fantasy I left midway in my life… Once upon a time in Trichy with someone else.

 

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,
14th Apr’1984

 

Met Dr.Sakthivel after 19 years… He had come to New York for business purposes and paid me a visit. Visu and the kids welcomed him home with great pleasure. And they liked him too. Infact, they did most of the talking initially. And of course, he got me a whole load of books, cassettes, Mysore Paak and lots more.

 

Your loving daughter,
Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,
20th Jan’ 1990

 

I just went through all these letters lying in my closet draw for years together. These are letters I started writing to you and then decided not to post. For obvious reasons. I could not mention Sakthi to you even though I was itching to. Not because I was afraid to invite your wrath. I just did not have the heart to hurt you, I know these letters would have hurt you. Because deep inside, I know you were disturbed- you knew Sakthi was a good man, you knew he was a man of substance, yet you didn’t want to go further. Society, I know. ..Family… I know… And all these letters would have only wounded you more. Today, 2 years after your death, and 6 months after Dr.Sakthivel’s untimely death in a road accident, I somehow felt like re-reading all these letters. To me, all these unstamped, unposted letters mean a life that could have been.

 

Kalyani Viswanathan

 

I felt very sorry for her after reading through this post  and whether its real history or story, we have to understand that life is a one time opportunity blessed by god and we have to respect others feelings whether the person might be of any relationship to us.

 

Evergreen Wishes,

S.R.Karthik

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God is Great!!!


God is Great!!!

 

The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities when they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work.

They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve.

They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc, and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.

On December 19 a terrible tempest – a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.

On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church.

His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high.

The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home.

On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in.

One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center.

It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall.

He bought it and headed back to the church.

By this time it had started to snow.

An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it.

The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.

She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry.

The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.

Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle.

Her face was like a sheet.. “Pastor,” she asked, “where did you get that tablecloth?”

The pastor explained.

The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were.

These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria the woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth.

The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria.

When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave.

Her husband was going to follow her the next week.

He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again.

The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church.

The pastor insisted on driving her home that was the least he could do.

She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.

What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve.

The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great.

At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.

One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn’t leaving.

The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike.

He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison.

He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between.

The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride.

They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier.

He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman’s apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.

True Story – submitted by Pastor Rob Reid who says God does work in mysterious ways.

God is Great!!!

Urs,

SRK

Love & Time !!!


LOVE & TIME

 

Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love.

 

One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all constructed boats and left.

 

Except for Love.

 

Love was the only one who stayed.

 

Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment.

 

When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help.

 

Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat.

 

Love said, “Richness, can you take me with you?”

 

Richness answered, “No, I can’t. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you.”

 

Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel.

 

“Vanity, please help me!”

 

“I can’t help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat,” Vanity answered.

 

Sadness was close by so Love asked, “Sadness, let me go with you.”

 

“Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!” Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her.

 

Suddenly, there was a voice, “Come, Love, I will take you.” It was an elder.

 

So blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going.

 

When they arrived at dry land, the elder went his own way.

 

Realizing how much was owed the elder, Love asked Knowledge, another elder, “Who helped me?”

 

“It was Time,” Knowledge answered.

 

“Time?” asked Love. “But why did Time help me?” Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, “Because only Time is capable of understanding how valuable Love is.”

 

Cheers,

 

SRK

Drunken Driver!!!


Love & Affection

 

I was walking around in a Big Bazaar store making shopping, when I saw a Cashier talking to a boy couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6 years old.

 

The Cashier said, “I’m sorry, but you don’t have enough money to buy this doll.” 

 

Then the little boy turned to me and asked: ”Uncle, are you sure I don’t have enough money?”

 

I counted his cash and replied: ”You know that you don’t have enough money to buy the doll, my dear.”

 

The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.

 

Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to. 

 

“It’s the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much. I wanted to Gift her for her BIRTHDAY. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there.” 

 

His eyes were so sad while saying this. “My Sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister.”

 

My heart nearly stopped.

 

The little boy looked up at me and said: “I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall.”

 

Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing.

 

He then told me “I want mommy to take my picture with her so my sister won’t forget me.”

 

“I love my mommy and I wish she doesn’t have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister.”

 

Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.

 

I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy.

 

“Suppose we check again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?”

 

‘OK’ he said, I hope I do have enough.’

 

I added some of my money to his with out him seeing and we started to count it.

 

There was enough for the doll and even some spare money.

 

The little boy said: “Thank you God for giving me enough money! “

 

Then he looked at me and added, ‘I asked last night before  I went to sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll,  so that mommy could give It to my sister. He heard me!’

 

“I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn’t dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose. My mommy loves white roses.”

 

I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started.

 

I couldn’t get the little boy out of my mind..

 

Then I remembered a local news paper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl.

 

The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state.

 

The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-sustaining machine, because the young woman would not be able to recover from the coma.

 

Was this the family of the little boy?

 

Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young woman had passed away..

 

I couldn’t stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wishes before her burial.

 

She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest.

 

I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed for ever.

 

The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine..

 

And in a fraction of a second, a drunken driver had taken all this away from him.

 

THE VALUE OF A MAN OR WOMAN RESIDES IN WHAT HE OR SHE GIVES, NOT IN WHAT HE OR SHE IS CAPABLE OF RECEIVING.

 

Urs,

 

SRK