April 24, 2009 – Meenas Poems

Setbacks

A genial person by nature, and-one who takes life as it comes,as of now I find a marginal difference in myself.I get upset for no reason, get fidgety for nothing and yell at everyone for unknown trivia. Am I succumbing to mental fatigue? Am I a prey to physical discomfiture?Am I getting into any unforeseen entanglements? I know not .Today, I am a bundle of contradictions . I am a ball of emotions. I am a a strain of my original self.

I was a daring , solid individual. I used to put up a brave face at oddities. I faced every demeaning context with stoicism . I tread the path , which according to my conscience worked perfectly. To me , my parents, my in laws, were another set of humans, full of flaws and foibles, prejudice and conceit, partial and wreckless. I did not bother about their irrational expressions . I moved on with my determined schedule.

I was put to unnerving hardships, placed in uncermonious destinations, kept in unethical financial pressure and treated with uncanny wickedness. I overcame all these treatise by paying slight attention. I brushed aside these morbidities with fearless detemination , but at the same time wiped my moist eyes.My mind took control of my heart,and saw to it that at no cost , I gave way to feelings and outbursts. I proceeded in my path undeterred and undaunted.

I take a deep breath. My overwrought mind is in a terrible mess. My heart is heavy with compressed distress. My physic is dwindling in its efficiency.

This deficiency is the outcome of depression and desperation, deceit and derision , wretched infidelity and incorrigible mistrust, blind faith and maddening mockery. As my external is losing its active performance, the internal also gradually deteriorates in its presumption. The smitten body renders the mildly disturbed mind to a break point. Thus delivering a system easily susceptible to break downs, to defatigable dispositions, and vincible circumstances.

The radiance in me is getting dimmed. The refreshing spirit is set to wither. The ebullience is fading. The invigorating humour is lost. The setback is contagious . It is pushing me to irrelevance.

Nothing Doing.

I am always thrilled to hear this phrase “Nothing doing.”It may sound very authoritative, and may invite displeasure. It has a negative connotation. But ,I have got used to this usage right from my childhood.

I was born to a strict mother. her discipline was not anything simple, but more rigorous than a military perception. A day always began with her tough routine, Right from waking up in the morning, to my retirement in the night , I was subjected to a severe schedule.The day started with completing my homework, practising my musical notes, followed by working on my bharatanatyam jathis and bhavas. Then ,I was pushed to have a quick bath. While coming out ,I was dragged by my mom to do up my hair, powder up my face , stuck bhindi, then placed flowers in my short plait. I was led into the dining hall, made to eat my breakfast, gulp some hot milk,and was put in the car ,driven by an aged chauffeur,to school. Any remission or commission would be discarded with a phrase “Nothing doing”

Again in school, I had to undergo similar prescriptions. The teachers and nuns were my mother’s good friends. So the behaviour was as much oppressive as it was at home. A little distraction would bring the roof down. A little slip in the rank would create a pandemonium. A little truancy would bring hell. “Nothing doing ” would be the chant of my school teachers.I completed school in harsh terror.

College , I thought would have a different environment. It would be a place for more liberties , more personal development, and more individual outlook. But , my feeling was dismally wrong. My college days were even more suffocating than my school days. My Principal , happened to be a dear friend of my mother, very close to our family. There was no escapade from her watchful eyes. her eyes would be following me, wherever I went, even when I had to go to different buildings in the college ,for different classes. I preferred to sit in the back benches, and was up to some pranks for a a fortnight, when the Principal was out of town. Once she came back , I was summoned and given a stern sermon, The favourite phrase ” nothing doing”, crossed her soliloquy often. I came out of her office with down cast eyes . On my return home, I was taken to task by mother.” Nothing doing “, she cried at the top of her voice.

I walked out with saddened spirit. What have I done ? Why this ado about nothing? My mind kept prodding, my heart ached , and my eyes glistened with tears, I bit my lips, in anger . Blood oozed out.

Looking back after 30 years , I feel sorry for my ,mother, my teachers and my Principal. Why did they act so hard, so harsh and so severe.? They earned the dispeasure of their wards. A kind word, a pep talk, a jovial shimmer, a twinkle in the eyes would have brought immense results. Nay , these were not there in their lexicon.