Vidya Shankar's Blog, page 11
February 9, 2018
The walk-out
There was a time when I was looking for a part-time job. I was undergoing fertility treatment and wanted something that would keep me occupied for a couple of hours a day. A friend sent me to this place which was a home-school for a small group of special needs children.
Though I accepted to take the English classes, I won’t say I was comfortable with what I was doing. My discomfort was based on an accepted foundation of discrimination, except that I didn’t realise it then.
How could I? It was my first encounter with something like this.
I was young, yet to see the world and all I knew was anything that was not “normal” had to be avoided, despised, laughed at, or even considered dangerous, this idea a result of the limited views that often go down from generation to generation without being questioned.
And then, there was the fertility thing. People advised me discontinue going there, what if I ended up getting pregnant with a child that had those afflictions? I fell for the fear that was instilled in me and I walked out.
I went on, after that, to work in “regular” stream schools and have had some great experiences too. Yet I couldn’t get over that walk out.
Over a period of time, “regular” schools started admitting students with special needs and I found myself sympathetic towards this move.
One academic year, my principal called me to her room to say she was assigning to me the responsibility of a particularly difficult SEN child because she felt only I would be able to handle him.
I walked out yet again, but this time with my head held high and love in my heart.
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Feb 10, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/3068f491-5a11-4040-9965-80f7f1596fe3.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
You can buy it at this link:
https://notionpress.com/read/the-flautist-of-brindaranyamwww.facebook.com
Though I accepted to take the English classes, I won’t say I was comfortable with what I was doing. My discomfort was based on an accepted foundation of discrimination, except that I didn’t realise it then.
How could I? It was my first encounter with something like this.
I was young, yet to see the world and all I knew was anything that was not “normal” had to be avoided, despised, laughed at, or even considered dangerous, this idea a result of the limited views that often go down from generation to generation without being questioned.
And then, there was the fertility thing. People advised me discontinue going there, what if I ended up getting pregnant with a child that had those afflictions? I fell for the fear that was instilled in me and I walked out.
I went on, after that, to work in “regular” stream schools and have had some great experiences too. Yet I couldn’t get over that walk out.
Over a period of time, “regular” schools started admitting students with special needs and I found myself sympathetic towards this move.
One academic year, my principal called me to her room to say she was assigning to me the responsibility of a particularly difficult SEN child because she felt only I would be able to handle him.
I walked out yet again, but this time with my head held high and love in my heart.
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Feb 10, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/3068f491-5a11-4040-9965-80f7f1596fe3.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
You can buy it at this link:
https://notionpress.com/read/the-flautist-of-brindaranyamwww.facebook.com
February 3, 2018
Help yourself
One of the advantages of a long recuperation following a major health setback is you get to observe little things from which you can learn great life lessons.
Thus it was that once I was laid up after a major surgery in the abdomen region and in spite of the prescribed two weeks’ complete bed rest, I had to ambulate. Which meant I had to take that walk to the rest room and to the dining area.
While I welcomed these small excursions from my bed, the pain involved in rising up from a lying down position to a sitting up position was unbearable. My caretaker would, in all good intentions, gently push me from the back or pull me forwards, but it was not something I felt comfortable with. I couldn’t do it at one go and required breaks and my helper could never gauge the correct force to apply, or when to apply.
To sort this out, we decided that I would do the rising on my own while my helper would place a palm on my back to keep me from falling back or give me an arm that I can hold on to. There would be no pushing or pulling.
This process, though it seemed difficult and maybe even unsympathetic, actually helped me heal faster. In less than two weeks I was able to sit up without help.
Isn’t this how life should be too? When we fall down, we expect others to help us up. The disappointment occurs when others are not able to give us the right push or pull. Instead, if we did the rising ourselves, with a little support from a friend, we would not only rise faster but stronger too.
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Feb 3, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/b771dd1d-8239-4e76-af9d-2ee5852fedba.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
You can buy it at this link:
https://notionpress.com/read/the-flautist-of-brindaranyamwww.facebook.com
Thus it was that once I was laid up after a major surgery in the abdomen region and in spite of the prescribed two weeks’ complete bed rest, I had to ambulate. Which meant I had to take that walk to the rest room and to the dining area.
While I welcomed these small excursions from my bed, the pain involved in rising up from a lying down position to a sitting up position was unbearable. My caretaker would, in all good intentions, gently push me from the back or pull me forwards, but it was not something I felt comfortable with. I couldn’t do it at one go and required breaks and my helper could never gauge the correct force to apply, or when to apply.
To sort this out, we decided that I would do the rising on my own while my helper would place a palm on my back to keep me from falling back or give me an arm that I can hold on to. There would be no pushing or pulling.
This process, though it seemed difficult and maybe even unsympathetic, actually helped me heal faster. In less than two weeks I was able to sit up without help.
Isn’t this how life should be too? When we fall down, we expect others to help us up. The disappointment occurs when others are not able to give us the right push or pull. Instead, if we did the rising ourselves, with a little support from a friend, we would not only rise faster but stronger too.
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Feb 3, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/b771dd1d-8239-4e76-af9d-2ee5852fedba.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
You can buy it at this link:
https://notionpress.com/read/the-flautist-of-brindaranyamwww.facebook.com
January 27, 2018
Everyone’s beautiful
“Watch this video of the world’s most beautiful woman. You’ll be amazed.”
This video tagline caught my attention. Well, who wouldn’t want to experience beauty? So I delved in.
And was amazed!
For, the person in the video was not some beauty pageant winner, a silver-screen heartthrob or a blithe mermaid. No glowing skin tones, no chiselled curves, no luxurious cascade of wavy, knee-length hair.
The person in the video was disfigured in the most unimaginable manner, a bag of wrinkly skin that could do with a lot of blowing up. But when she began talking about her life’s battles, I could see why she was indeed the world’s most beautiful woman.
I always used to think I wasn’t beautiful at all. My face used to be all pimply and I had a lot of fat where it was not required. Till one day when someone whom I’d never met except on social media, messaged me saying it was an honour to have known someone as beautiful as I was.
Come again!
We were part of a support group on social media and we knew each other through the posts that we used to write about how we found happiness in each day, even when there were days when finding even a sliver of joy would have been impossible for many.
It was the smiles I gave myself on such difficult days that made me beautiful.
The message not only made me rethink about the conventional standards of beauty norms but also about the way I saw myself.
I stood in front of the mirror and looked at the beautiful face smiling at me. Yes, I was, to put in the words of a friend, as beautiful as the moon with all its craters.
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Jan 27, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/840f4515-533d-401e-8877-62e1529efc68.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
You can buy it at this link:
https://notionpress.com/read/the-flautist-of-brindaranyam
www.facebook.com
This video tagline caught my attention. Well, who wouldn’t want to experience beauty? So I delved in.
And was amazed!
For, the person in the video was not some beauty pageant winner, a silver-screen heartthrob or a blithe mermaid. No glowing skin tones, no chiselled curves, no luxurious cascade of wavy, knee-length hair.
The person in the video was disfigured in the most unimaginable manner, a bag of wrinkly skin that could do with a lot of blowing up. But when she began talking about her life’s battles, I could see why she was indeed the world’s most beautiful woman.
I always used to think I wasn’t beautiful at all. My face used to be all pimply and I had a lot of fat where it was not required. Till one day when someone whom I’d never met except on social media, messaged me saying it was an honour to have known someone as beautiful as I was.
Come again!
We were part of a support group on social media and we knew each other through the posts that we used to write about how we found happiness in each day, even when there were days when finding even a sliver of joy would have been impossible for many.
It was the smiles I gave myself on such difficult days that made me beautiful.
The message not only made me rethink about the conventional standards of beauty norms but also about the way I saw myself.
I stood in front of the mirror and looked at the beautiful face smiling at me. Yes, I was, to put in the words of a friend, as beautiful as the moon with all its craters.
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Jan 27, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/840f4515-533d-401e-8877-62e1529efc68.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
You can buy it at this link:
https://notionpress.com/read/the-flautist-of-brindaranyam
www.facebook.com
January 22, 2018
Bookish legacy
So I was a poet. A published poet. Finally. After years and years of waiting. Happy? Yes, absolutely. Yet there was a part of me that just couldn’t come to terms with this.
Why was that? Because all this has happened when I am 49. Suddenly I find I’m running out of time and I have so much more that I need to write and share with the world.
So where have I been? What have I been doing with my life all these years?
And I realise, with regret, that all these years, in spite of having the time, the energy and the resources to do what I had always dreamt of doing, I had been wasting all that in the pursuit of something that society demanded of me, something society has made us believe would give one security, define a purpose to one’s life and hence, confer happiness.
Society, I tell you, is so unimaginative!
But it’s better late than never, isn’t it? Better late to realise that the purpose of one’s life is what is intrinsic to one’s self and not what is dictated by society and that one’s happiness depends on oneself and not on something or someone outside of us.
And that the legacy one can leave behind need not necessarily be a progeny of the flesh but can also be an offspring of the mind and heart.
Something like a book, for instance?
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Jan 20, 2018)
http://www.gulftoday.ae/portal/47295567-bc1d-4449-a3d0-5dab10ec8b74.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpkwww.facebook.com
Why was that? Because all this has happened when I am 49. Suddenly I find I’m running out of time and I have so much more that I need to write and share with the world.
So where have I been? What have I been doing with my life all these years?
And I realise, with regret, that all these years, in spite of having the time, the energy and the resources to do what I had always dreamt of doing, I had been wasting all that in the pursuit of something that society demanded of me, something society has made us believe would give one security, define a purpose to one’s life and hence, confer happiness.
Society, I tell you, is so unimaginative!
But it’s better late than never, isn’t it? Better late to realise that the purpose of one’s life is what is intrinsic to one’s self and not what is dictated by society and that one’s happiness depends on oneself and not on something or someone outside of us.
And that the legacy one can leave behind need not necessarily be a progeny of the flesh but can also be an offspring of the mind and heart.
Something like a book, for instance?
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Jan 20, 2018)
http://www.gulftoday.ae/portal/47295567-bc1d-4449-a3d0-5dab10ec8b74.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpkwww.facebook.com
January 12, 2018
Patient waiting
The waiting room at the clinic overflowing at the seams was evidence of a long wait. I had anticipated it, which was why I had brought along, in my bag, my trusted companion to keep me company.
Yes, my ally through the patient waiting was my book. What better companion can I hope for through the endless hour or so than my book? It had the unique quality of endurance that is hard to find in anyone else, kindred spirit though they may be, for offering to accompany me to a doctor’s clinic.
And because my book would transport me to quite another world in a matter of seconds, I too would not feel the impatience of the long wait. I must have buried my nose in my book for about five or ten minutes only when I became aware of several sets of eyes on me.
I glanced around casually, then resumed my reading, brushing aside the sensation of being watched.
But the weird feeling continued so I took a break from my reading to look around and observe the different shades of humanity gathered there in that room.
At first I didn’t notice it but a second later it struck me. I was the only one in the room with a book! And what did the others have? A phone.
So I was the odd one out, but did I care? I went back to my pursuit of the pages.
Soon the seat next to mine emptied and a young lady with her cute little girl came and sat there. The little one was impatient to have something from her mother’s bag. Imagine my joy when what the young mother pulled out of her bag was an ABC book!
I smiled, thankful that my kind wasn’t extinct yet.
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Jan 13, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/e6d6be18-f9c7-401b-9f20-6a9cd3522777.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
www.facebook.com
Yes, my ally through the patient waiting was my book. What better companion can I hope for through the endless hour or so than my book? It had the unique quality of endurance that is hard to find in anyone else, kindred spirit though they may be, for offering to accompany me to a doctor’s clinic.
And because my book would transport me to quite another world in a matter of seconds, I too would not feel the impatience of the long wait. I must have buried my nose in my book for about five or ten minutes only when I became aware of several sets of eyes on me.
I glanced around casually, then resumed my reading, brushing aside the sensation of being watched.
But the weird feeling continued so I took a break from my reading to look around and observe the different shades of humanity gathered there in that room.
At first I didn’t notice it but a second later it struck me. I was the only one in the room with a book! And what did the others have? A phone.
So I was the odd one out, but did I care? I went back to my pursuit of the pages.
Soon the seat next to mine emptied and a young lady with her cute little girl came and sat there. The little one was impatient to have something from her mother’s bag. Imagine my joy when what the young mother pulled out of her bag was an ABC book!
I smiled, thankful that my kind wasn’t extinct yet.
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Jan 13, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/e6d6be18-f9c7-401b-9f20-6a9cd3522777.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
www.facebook.com
January 6, 2018
Write choice
I think I must have been in Grade 3 or 4 when I first had this urge to write something of my own. Something like the little poems in my English Reader or the fascinating stories in the children’s magazines that my father used to buy for me.
Only, I didn’t know if I could write. I mean, was it alright to come up with something of my own creation? Did the world appreciate and accept new writers? I didn’t know because, unfortunately, there was no one to help me on this count.
Those were the days when the world was not hyperlinked by the Web, the only mouse we knew was what we ran away from when the rodent scampered between our legs, and social media was, well, who knew what it was. So neither my parents nor any of the elders in my family were exposed to anything beyond the realm of their limited sphere of existence.
Then there was school and our language classes in which we had something called “Composition,” a forerunner of today’s Creative Writing classes.
Except that we didn’t compose anything and there was nothing creative in what we wrote.
We had these composition books that you could buy in any store and when teacher gave us a topic, we had to scan through the pages of those books, find what we wanted and simply had to copy the essay down in our long notebooks, word for word.
Even the topics for the essays were stereotypical. From Grade 3 to Grade 9, I recollect writing about my ambition in life. And each year I presented a different essay depending on the composition book I had with me, which again gave us only what was within bounds.
I am therefore amazed that considering the uncreative background I’ve gone through and having not once been allowed to mention in all those years of ambition essays, I have eventually ended up being a writer!
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Jan 06, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/1677789e-b77a-43e1-9528-c668cdf55165.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayam
www.facebook.com
Only, I didn’t know if I could write. I mean, was it alright to come up with something of my own creation? Did the world appreciate and accept new writers? I didn’t know because, unfortunately, there was no one to help me on this count.
Those were the days when the world was not hyperlinked by the Web, the only mouse we knew was what we ran away from when the rodent scampered between our legs, and social media was, well, who knew what it was. So neither my parents nor any of the elders in my family were exposed to anything beyond the realm of their limited sphere of existence.
Then there was school and our language classes in which we had something called “Composition,” a forerunner of today’s Creative Writing classes.
Except that we didn’t compose anything and there was nothing creative in what we wrote.
We had these composition books that you could buy in any store and when teacher gave us a topic, we had to scan through the pages of those books, find what we wanted and simply had to copy the essay down in our long notebooks, word for word.
Even the topics for the essays were stereotypical. From Grade 3 to Grade 9, I recollect writing about my ambition in life. And each year I presented a different essay depending on the composition book I had with me, which again gave us only what was within bounds.
I am therefore amazed that considering the uncreative background I’ve gone through and having not once been allowed to mention in all those years of ambition essays, I have eventually ended up being a writer!
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Jan 06, 2018)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/1677789e-b77a-43e1-9528-c668cdf55165.aspx
Here's my first book! An ensemble of poetry and photographs.
Click the link below to watch a 30-second promo video.
https://youtu.be/5BhbjMaIwpk
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayam
www.facebook.com
December 15, 2017
Happy wishing
Guess what I received by post today? A New Year card!
And my reaction was, what in the world is this? I mean, do these things even exist? This was the age of e-cards, e-greetings and picking up the phone and saying, “Hey, wish you whatever!”
Wasn’t that the 21st century, tech-savvy thing to do, besides saving up on precious time and money?
“To all my friends out there...” did the trick. Whoever saw your status got your greeting, and those who didn’t, well, what could you do about it?
But this card, this piece of thick paper, was not just a greeting. It was a souvenir of happiness contained in the fold of that envelope. It had a story to tell, a story in which my friend took the time to go shopping for cards for friends that included me, chose one for me, personalised it with my name and a sincere wish for me that she wrote herself and finally made sure it reached me by affixing the necessary stamps on the envelope and directing it to my postal address.
The card also brought with it wonderful memories of a bygone era when relationships mattered. The joy derived from sending out cards, making sure no one was missed, and the elation felt when your love was reciprocated with another card that came by post specially for you, well, that joy is immeasurable.
But even more enjoyable is when, on a hot summer afternoon, you pull out a book to read and out falls a stack of cards that you have collected over time, and the hot afternoon turns out to be a cool reliving of pleasant reminiscences.
This is an experience digital cards deprive us of. Nevertheless, a wish for happiness is a wish anyway. So here’s to happy wishing!
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Dec 16, 2017)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/95ff6f42-e0fc-4218-8d44-cf1185463f21.aspx
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayamwww.facebook.com
And my reaction was, what in the world is this? I mean, do these things even exist? This was the age of e-cards, e-greetings and picking up the phone and saying, “Hey, wish you whatever!”
Wasn’t that the 21st century, tech-savvy thing to do, besides saving up on precious time and money?
“To all my friends out there...” did the trick. Whoever saw your status got your greeting, and those who didn’t, well, what could you do about it?
But this card, this piece of thick paper, was not just a greeting. It was a souvenir of happiness contained in the fold of that envelope. It had a story to tell, a story in which my friend took the time to go shopping for cards for friends that included me, chose one for me, personalised it with my name and a sincere wish for me that she wrote herself and finally made sure it reached me by affixing the necessary stamps on the envelope and directing it to my postal address.
The card also brought with it wonderful memories of a bygone era when relationships mattered. The joy derived from sending out cards, making sure no one was missed, and the elation felt when your love was reciprocated with another card that came by post specially for you, well, that joy is immeasurable.
But even more enjoyable is when, on a hot summer afternoon, you pull out a book to read and out falls a stack of cards that you have collected over time, and the hot afternoon turns out to be a cool reliving of pleasant reminiscences.
This is an experience digital cards deprive us of. Nevertheless, a wish for happiness is a wish anyway. So here’s to happy wishing!
Vidya Shankar
Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Dec 16, 2017)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/95ff6f42-e0fc-4218-8d44-cf1185463f21.aspx
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayamwww.facebook.com
December 9, 2017
Disable your conditioning
In 1992, the United Nations General Assembly passed a resolution to observe December 3rd of every year as International Day of Persons with Disabilities.
In spite of having a friend who was a person of determination, I did not know it till I read a status he had posted in social media.
Maybe I would have registered the date in memory if I had looked upon him as being “disabled.” But for me, he is as normally abled as any other person I have known.
Which is why, when I saw his status, my first thought was “Do I wish him or don’t I? What would hurt him? My wishing or not wishing him? Was it a day to remind him starkly of his disability or a day that he is proud to observe for all his many successes he’s achieved?”
No sooner did this thought flash through my mind than I knew that I had to greet him on his special day.
Coming to think of it, don’t we all have some disability or the other? Being a woman is sometimes such a disability, yet I look forward to wishes on March 8th, International Women’s Day. Old age is a disability yet we celebrate our birthdays year after year. Fat, you are hindered in your activities, thin, and that’s something to be worried about too. Tall? Short? We have a problem there, don’t we?
OK, what I am trying to say is that none of us are perfect. Yet, we tend to discriminate, we tend to not accept, we feel an uneasiness at whatever is not “normal.” The disability, dear reader, is not in them; it is in our minds, in our inability to accept someone who is a person of determination.
I picked up my phone and called him. The big “thank you” he said in his usual cheery voice gave me my answer.
Vidya Shankar
(Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Dec 9, 2017)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/5854ab3d-3938-4b6d-8536-e76733004c04.aspx
Sheikh Mohammed said that people with disabilities will be called "people of determination" from now on.https://www.khaleejtimes.com/news/gen...
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayam
www.facebook.com
In spite of having a friend who was a person of determination, I did not know it till I read a status he had posted in social media.
Maybe I would have registered the date in memory if I had looked upon him as being “disabled.” But for me, he is as normally abled as any other person I have known.
Which is why, when I saw his status, my first thought was “Do I wish him or don’t I? What would hurt him? My wishing or not wishing him? Was it a day to remind him starkly of his disability or a day that he is proud to observe for all his many successes he’s achieved?”
No sooner did this thought flash through my mind than I knew that I had to greet him on his special day.
Coming to think of it, don’t we all have some disability or the other? Being a woman is sometimes such a disability, yet I look forward to wishes on March 8th, International Women’s Day. Old age is a disability yet we celebrate our birthdays year after year. Fat, you are hindered in your activities, thin, and that’s something to be worried about too. Tall? Short? We have a problem there, don’t we?
OK, what I am trying to say is that none of us are perfect. Yet, we tend to discriminate, we tend to not accept, we feel an uneasiness at whatever is not “normal.” The disability, dear reader, is not in them; it is in our minds, in our inability to accept someone who is a person of determination.
I picked up my phone and called him. The big “thank you” he said in his usual cheery voice gave me my answer.
Vidya Shankar
(Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Dec 9, 2017)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/5854ab3d-3938-4b6d-8536-e76733004c04.aspx
Sheikh Mohammed said that people with disabilities will be called "people of determination" from now on.https://www.khaleejtimes.com/news/gen...
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayam
www.facebook.com
November 25, 2017
Singled by simplicity
Our family doctor, for all his vast knowledge, is a very down-to-earth person. However ill you are, he has this way of making you feel that all is well with you. So what if you have to go through a series of tests and all that, get done with it and enjoy life.
When you go to him for a diagnosis, he might suspect there could be something gravely wrong with you but he’ll never make you feel there’s a complication inside of you.
This attitude of his is reflected in his persona as well. His consultation room is stacked with medical books, not arranged neatly as if to show off, but as if they have been visited frequently. Everything about his room is clean, as a consultation room ought to be, yet the neatness is not pristinely clinical, thus making you feel at home.
And in the middle of all this sits our doctor in a loose pair of trousers and a pale coloured shirt that hangs about his shoulders. No shoes for him; he wears simple chappals that he can take off whenever he feels them inconvenient.
Recently, we attended his daughter’s wedding. It was held at a famous address in the city, not for show of wealth but more because of the large ballroom that could accommodate the multitude of guests expected, not just relatives and friends but also his long-standing “patients” for whom he was like family.
Everyone who had turned up for the wedding had come decked in their best clothes. But guess who stood out in the midst of all that finery? Our doctor, of course.
There he was in his simplicity, as if he had just taken a brief break from his consultation. He was himself.
Vidya Shankar
(Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Nov 25, 2017)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/fdd7e203-059f-477e-92b5-ecc4513e8419.aspx
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayamwww.facebook.com
When you go to him for a diagnosis, he might suspect there could be something gravely wrong with you but he’ll never make you feel there’s a complication inside of you.
This attitude of his is reflected in his persona as well. His consultation room is stacked with medical books, not arranged neatly as if to show off, but as if they have been visited frequently. Everything about his room is clean, as a consultation room ought to be, yet the neatness is not pristinely clinical, thus making you feel at home.
And in the middle of all this sits our doctor in a loose pair of trousers and a pale coloured shirt that hangs about his shoulders. No shoes for him; he wears simple chappals that he can take off whenever he feels them inconvenient.
Recently, we attended his daughter’s wedding. It was held at a famous address in the city, not for show of wealth but more because of the large ballroom that could accommodate the multitude of guests expected, not just relatives and friends but also his long-standing “patients” for whom he was like family.
Everyone who had turned up for the wedding had come decked in their best clothes. But guess who stood out in the midst of all that finery? Our doctor, of course.
There he was in his simplicity, as if he had just taken a brief break from his consultation. He was himself.
Vidya Shankar
(Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Nov 25, 2017)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/fdd7e203-059f-477e-92b5-ecc4513e8419.aspx
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayamwww.facebook.com
November 18, 2017
The gifted
This friend of mine often had smooth sailing in life despite all the hurdles she’s had to face. A very lovable person that she was, it was very comfortable being friends with her. Yet, one couldn’t help feel a tinge of envy over the sunshine that seemed to fill her life.
Now, there was this garment shop near my house from where I used to buy some trendy tops at really great prices. My friend had always wanted to come there and shop but it somehow never happened.
Once, there was a whole new collection that was too good to miss so I decided to gift my friend a top. I gave it her the following day at work.
The joy on her face when she received it was just memorable. She had nice things to say about the top, things about the colour and the patterns on it. But the extend of her graciousness I experienced later that evening when, after going home and trying out the top, she called me and said that though it fitted her, it was a little tight on her.
I could get it exchanged, I said, but she didn’t want that.
“There are special thoughts that go with this gift and whenever I wear this, I’m going to feel all that love. I don’t want to deny myself that.”
She said she would wear a jacket over it so the tightness wouldn’t show. Or better still, she could try and lose some weight so the top would be comfortable on her.
I had always thought that luck favoured her over me but this incident made me realise it was her attitude of acceptance that weeded the negativity out of her life.
Vidya Shankar
(Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Nov 18, 2017)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/738237d3-b5e2-4624-87b7-66f4c44709d0.aspx
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayamwww.facebook.com
Now, there was this garment shop near my house from where I used to buy some trendy tops at really great prices. My friend had always wanted to come there and shop but it somehow never happened.
Once, there was a whole new collection that was too good to miss so I decided to gift my friend a top. I gave it her the following day at work.
The joy on her face when she received it was just memorable. She had nice things to say about the top, things about the colour and the patterns on it. But the extend of her graciousness I experienced later that evening when, after going home and trying out the top, she called me and said that though it fitted her, it was a little tight on her.
I could get it exchanged, I said, but she didn’t want that.
“There are special thoughts that go with this gift and whenever I wear this, I’m going to feel all that love. I don’t want to deny myself that.”
She said she would wear a jacket over it so the tightness wouldn’t show. Or better still, she could try and lose some weight so the top would be comfortable on her.
I had always thought that luck favoured her over me but this incident made me realise it was her attitude of acceptance that weeded the negativity out of her life.
Vidya Shankar
(Published in The Gulf Today / Short Take, dt Nov 18, 2017)
http://gulftoday.ae/portal/738237d3-b5e2-4624-87b7-66f4c44709d0.aspx
Check out these Pages on Facebook:
Vidya Shankar: The Quintessential Word
Shankar Ramakrishnan: Out of my Focus
Vishnumayamwww.facebook.com
