*My eyes get moistened while watching yesterday’s Pakistan Vs Afghanistan WCC:*

I couldn’t see Babar Azam face yesterday. He’s such a nice guy has possessed with enormous batting talent as equal as Virat Kholi.

I felt, this Pakistan team is not deserved for yesterday’s defeat. Once Pakistan players (Javed Miandad period….then it had dwindled slightly during Akram and waquar era) were too aggressive, especially to India to express their aggression on the ground.

Hopefully, Pakistan’s civilians aren’t too bad, especially with Indians. Even I can go to the extent, that Pakistani general civilians don’t have as much hatred as we Indians have towards them. It’s Pakistan’s military regime and paid mercenaries who have caused all the havoc in both states.

Pakistan’s humongous loss for not having won the MFN (most favored nation) status with India is not only economic collapse, but the unparalleled Cricket talents too as we don’t have included in our IPL.

Afgan star bowler Rashid Khan is our product groomed in Indian soil through IPL.

I, being a cricket lover, believe, India, atleast can revisit her decision of Including Pakistan players in our IPL auction to win the heart of Pakistan’s civilians.

Ramu

Mr. Venkatesh, who heads the IBM subsidiary in India, is one of my dearest friends, and he paid a visit to my office for the very first time yesterday. His purpose was to exchange a few books before his move abroad. I have a tradition that I inherited from Mr. B. Muthuraman, the former MD of Tata Steel, where I request friends like Mr. Venkatesh to deliver impromptu talks to my employees lasting about 15 to 20 minutes.

In line with this tradition, I asked Mr. Venkatesh to give a brief talk during his visit, and he graciously accepted. To my astonishment, he delivered a remarkable speech to my employees, akin to how cobras seem to effortlessly produce precious gems, all with a rhythmic finesse.

He emphasized, “We are all constantly in search of progress after moments of stagnation, whether it’s in the form of a better work environment, improved career prospects, or greater physical comfort.”

“If someone wishes to experience a better, fresher atmosphere for increased physical comfort, they must leave their current room. To achieve this, the doors to the existing room must be open.”

“Similarly, to progress in any aspect of life, one must keep the doors of their mind open.”

He went on to quote the well-known saying, “The mind is like a parachute; it works only when it’s open.”

Mr. Venkatesh then shared three key methods for opening the doors of one’s mind:

1. Reading books, not just newspapers or textbooks but literature, history, philosophy, and other texts that introduce diverse perspectives from the annals of humanity.

2. Travel, not as a tourist taking selfies at popular spots but as an explorer of exotic places, hills, villages, and terrains, seeking to understand the lives and cultures of the people in those less-visited areas and aligning with nature.

3. Cultivating a circle of like-minded friends and spending as much time as possible with them.

He also pointed out that many minds lock their doors tightly when they strongly hold onto religious beliefs, vehement political ideologies, pride in their heritage, or excessive glorification of the past. He clarified that he didn’t mean to discard these beliefs, but rather encouraged a gradual and open-minded approach to make space for different perspectives.

I can’t be certain how many of my employees’ minds were opened by these pearls of wisdom, but I am sincerely delighted by Mr. Venkatesh’s remarkable talk, delivered on such short notice.

*Mindly yours,*
🙏Ramu🙏

The elderly man had successfully reached the age of 85, but his wife of over 70 years felt guilty for not bearing a child for him. In a bold move, she encouraged her husband to marry their servant maid. To everyone’s surprise, the wife-maid became pregnant within a few months.

This decision, however, triggered jealousy between the two wives, leading to frequent arguments. The elderly man, who had always been affectionate towards his first wife, eventually allowed her to send the second wife away.

Despite ongoing conflicts, their lives continued for twelve years. The elderly man reached the age of 99, while his first wife was 89. He remained burdened by the sadness of not having children with her. In a dream, God assured him that he would have a son through his first wife.

In a surprising turn of events, the first wife became pregnant and gave birth to a baby boy when the elderly man was 100, and his first wife was 90. The first wife continued to complain about her co-wife, and her son mistreated the newborn.

The elderly man, Abraham, asked his former maid-turned-wife and her son to move out, as he couldn’t find peace in their presence. Despite being the firstborn, the elderly man favored his first wife and their newborn baby. The vexed maid-wife, along with her 12-year-old son, left.

This narrative draws a parallel to the biblical story of Abraham and Sarah, with their son Isaac, and Hagar, the maid-wife, with her son Ishmael. Ishmael’s descendants are traditionally considered Arabs, while Isaac’s descendants are recognized as Jews. This implies that the origins of Arabs are 12 years older than the origins of Jews.

The Jewish holy scripture, the Torah, recounts this story, which dates back four thousands of years. The Torah was later adapted, with slight modifications, into the Old Testament, a sacred text for Christians. Notably, this story is also presented in the Quran, emphasizing its significance in various religious traditions.

Narratingly yours,

🙏Ramu🙏 9884384425

FAREWELL TO BJP ENGINEERS DIRECTORS

October 17, 2023

Dear Mr. Ponmuthu and Mr. Balu,

We have just received the email from BJP Engineers and learned that you, as Directors, have been relieved from your roles at BJP Engineers. Two new Directors will be taking your places starting today.

As Spiraseal, your competitor for over two decades (although we started a few years before BJP Engineers), we have closely associated with both of you and closely monitored your company’s progress.

I have always been amazed by the professionalism with which you conducted your business. In my interactions with both of you, you’ve stood out as the prominent faces of BJP Engineers.

Your departure comes as a shock and a loss to Spiraseal, despite our competitive relationship. I have personally witnessed the tremendous effort you invested in BJP Engineers over the years, especially during challenging times like the COVID pandemic. Your commitment to maintaining quality records and achieving enviable EIL approval was truly commendable.

I also appreciate your magnanimity in gracefully letting go of everything at BJP Engineering as you move forward. I wish both of you a peaceful, prosperous, and joy-filled life in the days ahead.

Please know that I am here 24/7, available for any support or to engage in a chat on any topic about life.

To be candid, I deeply admire both of you for your professionalism and the ethical way you conducted your businesses. I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.

Warm regards,

Ramu,
Managing Director,
Spiraseal Gaskets Pvt. Ltd. 🙏🙏

October 15, 2023

Undoubtedly, the ICC Cricket World Cup, specifically in the One Day International (ODI) format, stands as a monumental event, capturing the attention of billions of cricket enthusiasts worldwide. These passionate fans are steadfast in their devotion, seeking the pinnacle of cricket excellence.

In stark contrast to the shorter T20 format, ODIs attract a more discerning and dedicated audience, valuing the emphasis on skill and strategy over LUCK. It’s widely acknowledged that the better ODI team tends to emerge victorious, diminishing the influence of luck, which can be more prominent in T20 matches.

This prevailing sentiment underscores the significance of the World Cup winner, seen as the most talented among all cricket-playing nations in the year of the tournament.

With this in mind, the administrators bear a significant responsibility in ensuring that the most deserving team emerges victorious, beginning from the league matches and culminating in the finals. Efforts to reduce the role of luck are paramount.

While the implementation of the “review” system and other measures have made strides in this direction, questions arise about the semi-finals structure. Specifically, why hasn’t the ICC considered a system like that employed in T20 tournaments, where lower-ranked teams battle twice to reach the finals? This approach effectively minimizes the impact of chance.

Reflecting on the 1996 World Cup, where Pakistan ascended from a lower position to clinch the title, it’s evident that remarkable journeys can unfold. The ICC’s own recognition of effective strategies in the T20 format suggests that similar innovations could be adapted to ODIs.

In conclusion, the call for consistency and fairness in determining the ODI World Cup champion remains, and it’s a matter that warrants careful consideration by the ICC to further elevate the stature of this prestigious tournament.

Commentingly yours,

Ramu (9884384425)

8th October, 2023

I’ve come to realize recently that one of the most effective ways to evolve from being merely “human” to being “humane” is through the act of traveling. During my journeys, I’ve discerned a clear distinction between being a “tourist” and a “traveler.”

Tourists tend to focus on ticking off “must-see” locations and savoring different cuisines, while travelers immerse themselves in the essence of a place, connecting with its people, nature, geography, and landscapes.

Until a few years ago, I considered myself a tourist. However, over the past couple of years, I believe I’ve transitioned into a traveler. You might recall my travelogues from last year, detailing my trips to Meghalaya and Ahobilam.

Let me begin by sharing my conclusions about my recent trip to Kerala and my impressions of Keralites:
CONCLUSION – 1:

After spending a week in Kerala, I couldn’t help but wonder if those prolific YouTubers suggesting various global retirement destinations had ever visited Kerala. This serene and peaceful place, inhabited by contented people and offering an affordable cost of living, deserves recognition.

My Assumptions Before Visiting Kerala:

Before embarking on this journey, I held certain assumptions based on my previous experiences as a tourist in Kolkata. I anticipated that Kerala, with its predominantly communist ideology, might have an argumentative populace. I also assumed it to be less affluent, possibly even poverty-stricken, with limited technological advancements, and scattered with dilapidated huts and slums, much like Kolkata. Moreover, I was concerned about potential religious divides, particularly between Christians and Hindus, which might affect the availability of Hindu temples.

CONCLUSION – 2:
However, as I completed my trip, my fondness for Kerala grew, and I concluded that “Kerala is God’s own country” is not just a phrase; it’s an understatement. Kerala is, without a doubt, an ideal place for retirees.

Places Visited:
(i) MUNROE ISLAND:
Hidden away in Kollam (Quilon), Munroe Island is a true gem. Nestled amidst the serene backwaters and the expansive Ashtamudi Lake, this place left me awestruck. The best time to visit is between 5 AM and 8 AM when you can experience a divine tranquility that rivals the benefits of yoga or meditation.

Our boat ride was a manual one, navigating narrow canals for about 5 kilometers, surrounded by dense mangroves, with backwaters stretching for 2 kilometers in every direction. There’s a story about a crow and a piece of meat with a spiritual lesson: sacrificing the meat allowed the crow to soar alone in the sky.

Similarly, as we glided along the water from 5:30 to 8:30, with only a few other boats sharing the serene landscape, including some foreigners, we maintained a peaceful ambiance, akin to the crow’s sacrifice. We had given up a few hours of sleep but gained the entirety of this serene lake and the dense forest for a brief moment.

A visit to Munroe Island is an unforgettable experience and a must-do in a lifetime.

In Part 2, I’ll share more about my experiences in other places and insights into the wonderful people of Kerala.

With Divinely yours,
Ramu 🌿🌅 (9884384425)

6/10/2023

Dear Friends,

I’m excited to share that I’ve resumed writing after a short break. Recently, I faced some challenges both in my professional life and within my family. This led me to delve into the world of Tamil short stories and novels by the eminent writer T. Janakiraman.

As an engineer, it’s a common trait among engineers worldwide to have a mindset that doesn’t readily embrace abstraction. We tend to believe that every problem has a solution, and those solutions are attainable, if not today, then in the near future.

Engineers inherently view life as a closed loop and strive to fit every aspect into that loop.

During my literary exploration, especially in T. Janakiraman’s short stories, I’ve come to realize the vastness of our world and the incredible diversity of human experiences, both past and present.

T. Janakiraman’s stories are profoundly open-ended, filled with abstract concepts that hold the power to teach us about life, more so than any spiritual guru, philosopher, or professor could ever do.

I’ve taken the initiative to introduce one of T. Janakiraman’s shortest stories to my readers in English. While it may not be the “best” of TJ, but it is certainly the “shortest” that I could manage.

This particular story, “Shenbaga Flower,” spans 10 pages, and I’ve translated the first 3 pages. I plan to share these 3 pages in two parts to gather your feedback.

Please take a moment to read the following two posts and share your honest thoughts.

*Anticipatingly yours,*
🙏Ramu🙏

Shenbaga Flower 🌸

Upon receiving a telegram, after having spelt it out, an elderly tenant (old man) was overcome with shock, collapsing to the ground. Kosalai Ammal urgently rushed towards the well where her young daughter was bathing, her body glistening with water droplets as though she embodied fire itself. Her neatly braided hair had unraveled, resembling a ball of yarn.

“Oh, dear child! You bathe like the goddess ‘Magamayi’ with turmeric! But that ‘SINNER’ applied coal to your face and gone! Sinner! Sinner!”

“Mom! Mom!”

The old man, who had witnessed this spectacle, narrated to his wife, “That girl is like a blood flower. Just as the scent of a Shanbaga flower can make one’s nose bleed, and so he was reduced to sand.” As he uttered these words, his grief dissolved into tears, he screamed and wailed inconsolably.

While water droplets continued to cascade from her body and hair, the girl made her way towards the hall. Married women and widows gathered around her.

The old man raised his head to observe the unfolding events. Her face was obscured by the scattering hair, hidden behind the cacophony of voices from those who were shocked and experienced.

The old man’s wife, overcome with sorrow, lamented formally with mourning tone, “Are you a Shanbaga flower? Spreading a magnificent fragrance! A boy who once smelled your essence now lies buried in the sand. And, by this, he buried you too!”

The old man slowly made his way to the entrance and leaned against a pillar.

“Just half an hour ago, she was playing the ‘dice game – 🐯 tiger and 🐐 goat game’ with me. She was filled with joy, proclaiming, ‘I have captured ‘thatha’ – the tiger.’ Not even half an hour has passed, and this tragedy befell her!”

Even before she turned 18, the elderly ladies with vermilion on their foreheads were already mourning by embracing and chattering. She was such a small, adorable girl!

Is she merely a girl, a product of a man and a woman born on this earth? The old man had pondered this question frequently, trying to remember what he had concluded. Only the mystery persisted.

Was this golden treasure brought to Earth by parents akin to the heavenly Menaka and Viswamithra? No, that wasn’t the case. Kosalai Ammal was a middle-aged woman, like any other in an ordinary family. She just didn’t have a flat nose, squinted eyes, uneven teeth, a flabby hip, or a flat face. She wasn’t ugly, though, one couldn’t call her exceptionally beautiful; she had a medium complexion.

The same went for her husband, Ramiah. He wasn’t too short, didn’t have a double head or uneven features, and his eyes weren’t peculiar. There was no need for excessive description; he was just an unremarkable man.

The arrival of this precious girl to these parents, akin to a slender, radiant lamp standing tall between coconut and banana, left the old man perpetually amazed, questioning the unattainable origins of such creation. In the realm of epics, where beauty abounds, places for ordinary people like Kosalai and Ramiah seem nonexistent. Thus, the old man’s astonishment was hardly surprising.

His wife, on the other hand, often left herself breathless with comments like, “In affluent households, children are born with the sheen of rich food, and even in some middle-class homes, there’s a chance of glossy offspring. Here, none of that applies. Ramiah was an ordinary school teacher, not the kind who could only afford a meager existence, but he would exhaust his income before the 10th of every month. He’s passed away now, and what little he left behind was only enough for ‘sambar and rasam.’ Yet, this girl shone like the daughter of a magistrate.”

The old man had no pressing responsibilities. His children were well-off and sent him money every month. Thus, his days were filled with colorful pursuits, such as expanding his knowledge through English novels, Ramayana, Gita, Thirukkural, etc. He also enjoyed chewing betel, frequently applying spicy powder to his nose, and engaging in lively fun filled conversations. Moreover, his daily ritual of marveling at the girl’s beauty became an important part of his life—a sincere act akin to worshipping a deity, free from expectations. Yes, it was a way to occupy his mind.

He boldly savored the girl’s beauty daily, his age granting him an advantage, much like admiring a blossoming flower with its glistening mix of white and yellow, as if his eyes had fallen into a pool of water. “Is she an ordinary girl? Her face adorned with eyes; her eyes filled with curiosity; curiosity brimming with youthful vigor; youthfulness teeming with shyness; and shyness characterized by graceful movements. Can such a grace-filled being an ordinary girl? Born as a girl, can she truly become an object to be cuddled, caressed, stroked and indulged for an ordinary man of this earth?”

The old man couldn’t fathom the idea of an ordinary man being entrusted with the care of this precious girl. It was akin to a beggar who, upon hearing he had won a lakh of rupees in a lottery, suffered a heart attack and met his demise. Could any man on Earth truly claim ownership of this radiant full moon of a girl? Could he dare to call himself her husband and govern her? If he dared to caress her…?

Indeed, she was soon to be married. It was as though a beautiful rose 🌹 was destined to be crushed and transformed into a “gulgundh” by the man who would ultimately fondle her, making her a mother, a grandmother, and so forth, like any other ordinary human being. It seemed that unblemished beauty ever and unending sweetness could only exist in heaven, not on Earth.

The old man regretted that such beauty had been mistakenly born here.

Finally, the wedding day arrived. A young man was coming to see her as his bride, accompanied by his parents and elder brother. The groom-to-be politely reassured his mother with a humble tone, saying, “It’s okay,” as he attempted to contain the curiosity brimming on his face. As usual, the prospective mother-in-law expressed her dissatisfaction, stating firmly, “She could have been a few inches shorter, but it’s okay.” The prospective father-in-law neither dwelled on his wife’s discontent nor displayed any disapproval, instead asking Kosalai Ammal to find an auspicious wedding date. The elder brother, who was already married, concealed his jealousy skillfully, reassuring himself that his wife, though plump, was intelligent and courteous, suppressing his envy and expressing his happiness.

The old man, who was even capable of counting the legs of snakes, savored these human idiosyncrasies. Such observations were part of his daily routine. They exchanged betel leaves and nuts; erected an auspicious hut for the wedding rituals; painted the house with saffron, and tied the nuptial thread amidst the melodies of “nathaswaram” and “ketti mela.”

The groom, in contrast, appeared rather average. He possessed a thin and fragile physique, his back slightly hunched. His body had a slender and elongated structure, with long hands, fingers, legs, and facial features that extended beyond the norm.

The groom, being exceptionally thin with no extra flesh to be seen, appeared to fit the profile of a bank clerk—quite an ordinary match. However, in the eyes of the old man, he was the luckiest man alive, having such a divine beauty as his wife. The old man couldn’t help but wonder if there were any others on this Earth who’s so fortunate as to possess such divine beauty. But indeed, here he was, holding her hand and claiming her as his own.

The bride had transitioned to her in-laws’ home, making it her own. The old man couldn’t help but reflect on how she had effortlessly managed to match his own sly wits and even compete with him in the “dice – tiger – goat” game, which eventually drove him away from home. It felt as if his right hand had been severed.

As the old man bid her farewell on her way to her in-laws’ house, he said, “Make sure to teach your husband the dice – tiger – goat game. If he feels shy about learning from you, just write to me. I’ll come and stay with you for a few days to teach him the game. You don’t need to pay me anything; just serve me some delicious plantain bajjis, rava dosa, and filter coffee.”

In a playful tone, the girl responded, “Why wait? Come with me right now, thatha,” and happily saw him off.

Regretfully, the elderly man cursed her friendship turned out to be akin to ‘fleeting friendships formed on trains’ and headed towards the street corner shops in search of alternate amusement.

All of these events had occurred just a year ago. During this past year, the divine beauty had visited her birthplace twice. On both occasions, the elderly man had carefully cleaned the dice board from the top shelf, wiped it with a wet cloth, and drawn the customary triangle to prepare for a game of tiger-goat. As soon as they finished their morning coffee, they would sit down together to play the dice-tiger-goat game. She would not be content unless she managed to capture the ‘thatha – tiger’ at least four times a day. Around 10 o’clock, she would gather her braided hair into a bun and head to the well for a bath. After lunch, they would engage in another round of the dice game, sometimes going through ten rounds in a single day. This merriment continued for ten to fifteen consecutive days until she left for her in-laws’ place, leaving the elderly man feeling helpless. In those days, the elderly man would sadly spend his entire day at the street corner.

It was her third visit to her birthplace since her wedding just a year ago, and only four days had passed since her arrival. Half an hour earlier, she had engaged in a spirited game of “tiger-goat” with the elderly man to capture him the tiger.” After the game, she had headed to the well for a refreshing bath. Meanwhile, the elderly man, having finished his breakfast, began chewing betel leaves and nuts, intending to relax and spread a towel on the floor.

In a matter of minutes, a man on a red bicycle delivered a telegram that brought devastating news. Kosalai Ammal, the mother, and her stunningly beautiful daughter had journeyed to their in-laws’ place to pay their respects to a deceased husband.

The elderly man found himself consumed by grief and introspection. He questioned why she was born with such unparalleled beauty. Why did she get married? Whether to stand barren in a three way cornered street? Or whether to bear a title of ‘wretched woman’ who had devoured her husband?

Then, he reasoned with himself, recognizing the power of her allure since beginning. He remarked that anyone who encountered the scent of the Shenbaga Flower, the fragrance of which she exuded, would bleed to the point of death. It was not just a fragrance; it was an overpowering aroma. If she’s an ordinary woman like others, then it’s ok. Who so ever had been marrying the enchantress, the “mohini,” would lead to nothing less than brahma moksha.

He called for his wife and lamented, “Hey! If she’s an ordinary mortal, another mortal could exchange garlands and live happily. However she embodied an irresistible fire in herself and glittering from all angles. He questioned whether the Almighty was merely a spectator while ordinary mortals pursued her.”

His wife responded with frustration and questioning, “why such a captivating being was born on Earth, tormenting ordinary people”.

He retorted, claiming that the very purpose of Almighty is to make every mortals as mere wanderers and morons; and perhaps the Almighty had no greater purpose than to drive them to madness.

The old lady seethed with anger and accusing her of swallowing her husband like a boulder rolling down a hill. The old lady believed the poor boy had become a victim of such an ill-fated and cursed woman.

The man insisted that his words were rooted in philosophy.

His wife dismissed his musings, urging him to keep his philosophy to himself.

Two days later, Kosalai Ammal and her daughter returned home. It seemed the boy had been ill with a fever for a day, but by the following day, he had been deceased. Kosalai Ammal had discussed the possibility of finding a teaching job for her daughter with their in-laws. Her son-in-law’s elder brother had readily agreed and promised to arrange it soon.

On the seventh day, around 10 o’clock in the morning, the elderly man returned home from an errand and headed towards the well to wash his feet.

The young girl had taken care to neatly braid her unruly hair, securing it with a vibrant red ribbon, and then coiled it into a bun at the back of her head, as was her usual routine. She was bathing with sandalwood soap in the well, her left hand adorned with stone studded rings busy wiping away soap bubbles from her eyes.

The elderly man was taken aback, and his heart raced. He washed his feet mechanically without lifting his head and quickly returned from the well.

At the dining table, he struggled to eat and finally spoke to his wife with a heavy heart. “She seems too young to grasp the gravity of her husband’s loss, unable to mourn for even a brief period.”

His wife responded with frustration, “What can we do? Everything is determined by fate!”

“Did you see what she was doing at the well?”

“What was she doing?”

“I assumed you were reacting after seeing her bathe. Just lean over and see what’s happening in the well!”

The old lady approached the well and returned.

“What kind of soap, it’s sandal soap that she using! She’s adorned herself with makeup as if she’s preparing for a special occasion!”

“At such a tender age, she can’t even comprehend her own situation. It’s the Almighty who should be blamed for its senseless actions, for snatching the auspicious marital thread from the neck of a girl who couldn’t even grasp the sorrow of losing her husband. The blame lies with the Almighty.”

His wife, however, didn’t buy into his reasoning and responded mockingly, “Your words sound childish and immature to me. She had turned nineteen a few months ago. At that age, I had already given birth to two children, Sundaram and Kamali. Don’t tell me she’s too young.”

Sundaram and Kamali were their own children, and the old lady pointed out that when she had given birth to Kamali, she was not even nineteen.

The elderly man realized that arguing with his cunning wife was futile and censured himself, thinking, “I’ve been arguing with such a sly woman. Has she ever said anything positive about anyone?” He stopped the conversation, finished his meal, and stood up.

Meanwhile, the girl had adorned herself in a gorgeous Banaras silk saree, appearing as if nothing had happened. Her hair was neatly braided and fragrant with oil. Her body glistened from the application of sandalwood soap. She didn’t concern herself with the absence of the traditional red vermillion on her forehead, as even the most traditional women were starting to find it old-fashioned. She gracefully moved between the hall and the kitchen, immersing herself in her usual household chores. Even when there were no tasks to occupy her, she never cast a desolate glance towards cobwebs or the ceiling. Instead, she buried herself in books and music.

Observing her composure, the elderly man’s gaze shifted to his wife, and he couldn’t help but silently curse her as a cunning and sly woman.

Days passed, and the eighth and ninth days came and went. Her long, flowing hair continued to shine, and her face remained radiant with the foam of sandalwood soap.

On the tenth day, a few people arrived, unwound her neatly braided hair, wailed, mourned, and departed.

That evening, her long, dense hair had been meticulously braided and lay on her back like a black cobra as usual, cleansed of all dirt by soap foam.

An elderly man still mourned, cursing fate for crushing the girl’s life at such a tender age. His wife, however, was frustrated with her husband’s excessive sympathy for the widowed girl.

Time marched on, and their dice game, with its inherent antagonism between tiger and goat, was revived.

Exactly a month prior, on the same date, her husband had passed away. On that day, her husband’s elder brother had written a letter to Kosalai Ammal, assuring her that all school arrangements had been made and he would come on the eighth to take them away.

The elderly man had dreamt that the grieving girl would relish her days with school children, envisioning her life like a ‘river flowing not only towards the ocean but also nourishing the fields’.

The day before the eighth, they prepared for their journey with her deceased husband’s brother arriving on the eighth morning.

The old man broke into tears when he received the deceased husband’s brother, saying, “I had never imagined this even in my wildest nightmares.”

He continued, “Is making her pick cow dung and imprison herself within four walls the only option for a grieving, tender-aged girl? Never. Your actions and thoughts remind me of the Sanjeevi remedy. Please, show her the way to lead a happy life in the years ahead.”

The deceased man’s brother replied, “That’s my duty, thatha. Don’t worry about her.”

In the evening, a single bullock cart arrived to take them to the city.

The old man’s wife bid them farewell, saying, “Kosala! May the Almighty bless your daughter with prosperity and keep her safe.”

It’s the grieved girl who had first got into the cart. Her mother then got into the cart, facing the opposite direction of her daughter. The deceased man’s elder brother joined the cart, sitting facing the young grieving girl, and the cart began to move.

The girl peeked from the cart and said, “Goodbye, Thatha.”

“Oh! Very sweet my dear girl.”

The cart slowly disappeared from view. The old man spread a towel and leaned against the wall. His wife stood in the hall and remarked, “Is she made of blood flowers? Everyone’s noses wouldn’t bleed if they smelled this Shenbaga Flower. What a radiant smile she had! How she maintains such grace in her movements as if nothing had happened! Do her movements not suggest that her husband is still alive? Have you not noticed how she blushed and bent?”

The old man scolded her, saying, “Hey! Sly, wicked woman! Get inside home first.”

The old man had learned and feared that the wicked thoughts of this woman would always prevail.

*Story ends here. Thank you for reading.🙏👌👏*

Ramu, (ramu_swamy@yahoo.com) 9884384425

*Mindless Growth Vs Compassionate Growth:*
🙏Ramu🙏31/7/2023

Western world had been always pursuing growth through discovering new landscape and colonizing the same, inventions that can promote a virtuous spiral to accumulate more and more wealth since 18th century.

After the usage of nuclear bomb in world War II, they’re in a position to invent new ways other than war to accumulate waelth.

At the same time, they encountered non-cooperation, riots, conflicts, chaos etc amongst their colonies, they had started realizing colonization businesses would no more fetch return on investments (ROI) as in the past, they’re forced to come out of colonizing countries gradually.

In these circumstances, western world had been started moving towards the concept of “CONSUMERISM” to sustain the virtuous spiral they’ve created in the past by various means.

To sustain the concept of “CONSUMERISM”, they’ve been forced to lead the people towards pursuing “LIBERALISM”.

Through Liberalism, people have been forced to feel the whole society and the entire universe have been meant for gratifying the individuals needs and desires at any cost as long as it’ll not harm the other individuals again. *In short, it promoted Individuals’ self-interest is of paramount importance.*

From then onwards, the prevailing live concepts such as “Divorce has started thriving and is preached as if it’s no more a crime, indeed it’s the better option couples have; dating and living together have started flourishing and is preached no more of a sin, indeed it’d avoid future disappointments; senior citizens homes emerged a booming business as if maintaining them are no more responsibilities but it’s just a human duty or courtesy; after certain years, children once become adult are no more of parents’ responsibilities, and then parents can separate or seek for new pairs with approvals of children etc…”

While western world had been pursuing wealth through colonization, Eastern world had been so diligent in adhering towards religious rituals such as RENUNCIATION, SACRIFICES, and preaching their citizens involving in any indulgences, pursuing any kinds of pleasure, expressing self-interest were SIN and they’d invite the wrath of Almighty.

The pathetic reality is, when Easten world advocated its people embrace PAIN OVER PLEASURE, it’d not taken into account of the plain facts that any living organisms would always gravitate towards the least resistance path – pleasures and vulnerabilities.

They never realized human minds are predominantly occupied with greed and jealousy and they had miscalculated all these pleasures can be easily overcome by moral teachings – through strong “thabas”, renunciation, moral teachings, sacrifices, etc…

As human beings are always vulnerable towards embracing pleasure and tending to avoid pain at all costs as far as possible, eastern world citizens too started becoming western copycats and adopting “LIBERALISM” as their way of life.

That resulted in broken joint families concept, promotion of nuclear families, increasing divorce rates, abandoning senior citizens, thriving orphanages and homes, etc…

The only good news for eastern world, or at least for India is, we haven’t traveled to the extent of irreconcilable distances as the way western world does.

Western world have traveled to the distant that it can’t achieve balance by sacrificing growth as that earlier virtuous spiral would turn into vicious spiral and that would result in collapse the entire economy.

India kinds of countries, still have some hope in AWAKENING THE CONSCIOUSNESS amongst its citizens to achieve balance between *MINDLESS GROWTH Vs COMPASSIONATE GROWTH*.

*Balancingly yours,*
🙏Ramu🙏

Beware of 2 major types of human errors:
🙏Ramu🙏16/4/2023

Disclaimer: The conclusions I draw then and there, may be solely based on my observations from small sample size and so there’s every chance of not being inline with readers’ experiences.

Generally, all living organisms have bound to commit mistakes / errors and those can be classified broadly into 2 types, either one or the other or the combination of both.

Let’s say E = T1 + T2. (E-Error, T1 – Type1, T2 – Type 2)

Type 1: We are doing things, we are not supposed to. It’s also termed as “Errors of commission”.

Type 2: We don’t do things, we are supposed to. It’s also termed as “Errors of omission”.

The risk of these two errors is inversely related. It means, minimizing the T1 typically increases the risk of T2 and vice versa.

Type 1: (Lalit Modi, Vijay Malya, Subiksha, etc)

The people who commit T1 frequently are overly optimistic about life who sees an upside and visualize opportunity in almost everything and thus being frequent decision makers.

As a result, they may inflict self-harm by becoming prey for Ponzhi schemes, cheated by business partners, getting back stabbed etc…

As these people are always more of action oriented, looking forward to “quick rich”, “shortcuts” in all aspects of life, very few succeed in very big way and most have turned out to be paupers or filing bankruptcy.

Type 2: (Most of the middle class)

The people who commit T2 frequently, are overly pessimistic about everything in life, being INDECISIVE, and thus they may walk away from some wonderful opportunities come across their way.

As they are so cautious in every aspects of life, they may neither become pauper nor succeed in a very big way.

As a result, they may lead more or less a mediocre lifestyle throughout their life.

Balancing of T1 & T2: (Few upper middle class)

Fairly speaking, we all have been looking forward to lead our life in commensurate with our bestowed potential.

If we can learn to balance our mistakes on both categories T1 & T2, there have been every chance of living upto our bestowed potential.

Miracles: ( Rajini, Tendulkar, Dhoni, etc..)

If we can achieve to live beyond our potential, then, one can fairly assume luck or God’s grace have played major role.

If we have doomed to live less than our potential, it should be attributed to our inherent attitude and it’s purely because of excessive inclination towards T2 types of errors.

If we are prone to T1, we may hardly achieve beyond our potential, but there are every chance to become pauper.

Balancing of T1 & T2 is the key to live upto our potential.

Balancingly yours,
🙏Ramu🙏