To err is human; but to laugh is natural!

Once in a while, as an English teacher and learner, I encounter certain errors in usage. It's not normal to hide your mirth when somebody says: I passed away in 2004" when the right sentence should be "I passed out in 2004".

Still, students are students. The inspiration for this article came from a test that I gave my students today. They were asked to write the meaning of the word "greasy" and use it in a sentence.

Well, they did and three of them put their heads together in spite of my strict vigilance. The result was a rare gem.The three answers went like this:

Ramu is a greasy man.
He is a greasy man.
Ravi is a greasy man.

How did all these guys become greasy? Well,I saw that one of them has written the meaning of greasy as " Helpful"!

Word addiction

You may find it amusing but sometimes while having food alone, I find myself reaching for the pickle jar; so that I can read the information on the label. It's not that I don't know what's in the pickle; I guess it's a habit or rather an addiction to printed words.

This might extend to the information on creams, food products, cleaning solutions, toothpastes and so on. On some print-deprived days, there is a longing to read something strange, something new and pleasant. These are the days on which I set forth in the blogosphere for interesting reads and stumble across some good blog like that of Swapna. 

For a lost friend

A green-dot on my screen,
Dribbles my heart with pain,
Remembering a lost lifeline.

Focus, focus, focus

The snap of a cow taken in jest. My folks teased me about being snap-crazy. So this one, I took while on a trip home.

To a Lost Self

Like a strain of music, long forgotten,
You were lost somewhere along the way.
The song that you were faded in memory,
Only to resurface all on a sudden.

That song that you sang so beautifully,
How you could make a garland with tears,
With songs and tie it around my neck,
Suddenly played upon my lips unaware.

You and me were strange and unique,
Who were happy just by being together;
We could gaze into each other's eyes,
For hours and still be happy.

Now that years have passed after the song,
Even I know how to tie garlands with tears.

Home

My home comes to me as an image,
Mauve-coloured walls, clean floor,
A dream that we all built together,
With prayers and with lots of effort.

It lost its value only because of me,
One erring step of mine crumbled.
The beautiful interiors, sunlit walls,
Floors of white remain unexposed,

Often I think about unlocking it,
Just to wander through its space,
A sacred space, mine, ours, yours,
Now remains locked to all eyes.

The day of your rescue isn’t far,
When time will heal all rifts.

2 a.m.

The hospital smells of disinfectants.
Outside the ICU, a watchful crowd,
Waits on the chairs and on floor,
Crouched on bedsheets.

They watch the door, open and close,
Every time, as the duty nurses,
Whisper the news of change-
Death or recovery or medicine.

Each time, the ears listen,
Sleeping men and women,
Sit up and listen to the name,
The nurses utter this time.

This time, the nurse walks,
Towards a dark frail girl,
Sitting for days together,
In her crumpled pale sari.

She screams "Amma"
Falls to the ground weeping,
As her father mourns quietly,
Her sobs shake her body.

Now and then she screams,
Utters the word "Amma",
Looks up with swollen eyes,
For the approach of more news.

The stretcher is rolled out,
From the ICU, by staff,
Her sobs grow loud and wild
At the sight of her dead mother.

For days, she had sat outside,
Meeting her mother twice a day,
Three minutes at a time,
Her sobs are muted by tiredness.

The eyes, where life flickered
And love shone is still and closed.
Denied a word with parting spirit,
She retreats into a blank silence.