<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806</id><updated>2012-01-01T05:54:29.500-08:00</updated><category term='Personal'/><category term='Reading'/><category term='Experiences'/><category term='Nature'/><category term='Experinces'/><category term='General'/><category term='Novel'/><category term='Rain'/><category term='Thamizh'/><category term='cinema'/><category term='Love'/><category term='Poetry'/><category term='Guest Post'/><category term='Philosophy'/><category term='Retrospection'/><category term='History'/><category term='Fiction'/><category term='Creation'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='Fun'/><category term='Psychology'/><title type='text'>மனோரதம் [ManoRatham]</title><subtitle type='html'>மனதைத் தொட்டதும்
உயிரை சுட்டதும்!
எண்ணத்தில் பட்டதும்!
எண்ணாமல் விட்டதும்!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-3730677447610046807</id><published>2011-08-27T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T23:39:33.545-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>My Sunshine Poem</title><content type='html'>Walking down the Rivulet road&lt;br /&gt;My heart was going your way&lt;br /&gt;The squirrels were singing to the woad&lt;br /&gt;But I had nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The daisies were dancing there&lt;br /&gt;Though none bothered to care&lt;br /&gt;On sight of it, I thought of you&lt;br /&gt;My lovely charming flower!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at you my angel thing&lt;br /&gt;Let the poet in me survive... &lt;br /&gt;Your smile is so bewitching&lt;br /&gt;That makes my day alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open your eyes, let the darkness fade&lt;br /&gt;Drive away the rain&lt;br /&gt;Bring back luck through an escapade&lt;br /&gt;Oh my beautiful sunshine!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-3730677447610046807?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/3730677447610046807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=3730677447610046807' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/3730677447610046807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/3730677447610046807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2011/08/my-sunshine-poem.html' title='My Sunshine Poem'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-2809552543963322402</id><published>2011-02-06T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T16:50:40.748-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thamizh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>நீண்ட பயணமும் ஒரு நிழற்சாலையும்!</title><content type='html'>வெவ்வேறான நமது பயணங்களில்&lt;br /&gt;நாம் இணைந்து கடக்கும் இந்த நிழற்சாலை&lt;br /&gt;இன்னும் கொஞ்சம் நீண்டால் என்ன?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;முக்கால் உண்மையாய் மீதம் போலியாய்&lt;br /&gt;தொடர்கிறேன் நான்&lt;br /&gt;என்னுள் நிஜத்தை மட்டும் ப்ரதிபலிக்கும்&lt;br /&gt;நிலைக்கண்ணாடி நீ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;இளகிக் கரையும்,&lt;br /&gt;பொய்மையில் உறைந்த இதயம்,&lt;br /&gt;உன் உண்மையின் வெப்பத்தில்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;பாசம் பரிவு அக்கறை தோழமை...&lt;br /&gt;அதனினும் உன்னதம்,&lt;br /&gt;நீ நிஜம்!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;அரிதாரம் சூடாத உன் பேச்சின் பற்றுதலில்..&lt;br /&gt;அதிகாரமான அன்பில், அரவணைப்பில்&lt;br /&gt;வேகம் கூட்டித் நகர்கின்றது என் யாத்திரை&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;இந்தச் சாலைக் கடக்கப்படும் -&lt;br /&gt;உன் துணையோடு!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;தொடர்ந்து கொண்டே இருக்கும் என் முடிவறியா யாத்திரை...&lt;br /&gt;மீண்டும் ஒரு நிழற்சாலைக் கடந்தபடி..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;என் பயணம் மீண்டும் தளரக்கூடும்!&lt;br /&gt;என் தனிமை என்னைத் தின்னக்கூடும்!&lt;br /&gt;உண்டு உயிர்த்து உறங்கி நடந்து&lt;br /&gt;விழித்து களைத்த பொழுதுகளெல்லாம்&lt;br /&gt;நிஜங்களைத் தேடி அலையக்கூடும்..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;அன்றும் உன்னை நினைத்துக் கொள்வேன்&lt;br /&gt;என் விழிகளைக் கொஞ்சம் நனைத்துக் கொள்வேன்&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-2809552543963322402?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/2809552543963322402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=2809552543963322402' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2809552543963322402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2809552543963322402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2011/02/blog-post.html' title='நீண்ட பயணமும் ஒரு நிழற்சாலையும்!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-1292178472628898909</id><published>2010-12-06T13:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T13:37:09.950-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>A Signed Minor is called a Co-factor :-)</title><content type='html'>நீ ரத்தினங்களின் சிற்றணிக்கோவை!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;நீலக் கண்களும், &lt;br /&gt;மாணிக்க இதழ்களும்..&lt;br /&gt;முத்து பற்களும்&lt;br /&gt;புஷ்பராக விரல்களும்...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;நீ ரத்தினங்களின் சிற்றணிக்கோவை!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;நீ திங்கள் துண்டம்&lt;br /&gt;பாவைச் சூரியன்...&lt;br /&gt;என் இரண்டாம் உயிர்வளி ஆதலால்&lt;br /&gt;என் உய்விற்க்கு இணைக்காரணி...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;என் வாழ்க்கை வளவரையின்&lt;br /&gt;தொலைத் தொடுகோடு!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-1292178472628898909?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/1292178472628898909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=1292178472628898909' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/1292178472628898909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/1292178472628898909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/12/signed-minor-is-called-co-factor.html' title='A Signed Minor is called a Co-factor :-)'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-6559703470339677281</id><published>2010-12-04T00:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T00:59:54.289-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>My Fair Lady - The girl of my dreams!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;In her beautiful thoughts I am lost and found&lt;br /&gt;My dreams for her leaps no bound&lt;br /&gt;I fly in the sky leaving the ground&lt;br /&gt;When my fair lady just hangs around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In her lovely lit up little smile&lt;br /&gt;My joy extends a thousand mile&lt;br /&gt;As she calls me up in my late night hours&lt;br /&gt;I feel like drenched in fresh spring showers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daisy Dragon Daffodil&lt;br /&gt;Chilly Lily Daredevil&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I hear her name so sweet&lt;br /&gt;My pounding red heart skips a beat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me be clever...&lt;br /&gt;Love? No never&lt;br /&gt;It's John Keats fever..&lt;br /&gt;"A thing of beauty is a joy forever... "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-6559703470339677281?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/6559703470339677281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=6559703470339677281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6559703470339677281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6559703470339677281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-fair-lady-girl-of-my-dreams.html' title='My Fair Lady - The girl of my dreams!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-7463812558182289030</id><published>2010-11-15T01:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T01:53:27.002-08:00</updated><title type='text'>நண்பர்கள் 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;சேஷு கடல் கடந்து சென்று இரண்டு ஆண்டுகள் ஓடி விட்டது. இந்த முறை அவன் விடுப்புக்கு வந்த போதும் என்னைக் காண வரவில்லை. மூன்று நான்கு முறை அலைபேஸியில் தொடர்பு கொண்டான் அவ்வளவுதான். &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Ramu has lost trust in you... do you know that?" ..  கேட்டது சேஷு&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I have known this much before he did. நான் அமைதியாக இருந்தேன்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;அவனுக்கு ப்ரச்சனைனு தெரியுமில்ல... help பண்ணலாமே...கோபமாகக் கேட்டான் சேஷு...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;நான் மீண்டும் அமைதியாக இருந்தேன்... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"நீ எப்படி இருக்க?" ... இது நான்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"I am doing great as usual... எனக்கென்ன... " சடாரென்று வந்தது அவன் பதில்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;அவனிடம் எனக்கு பிடித்த ஒன்று...சில நேரம் அலுத்துக்கொண்டாலும் பெரும்பாலும் தனக்குக் கிட்டியதை வைத்து அமைதிப் பட்டுக் கொள்பவன்... வேறொருவரின் இருப்புகளைக் கண்டு பொறாமைக் கொள்ளாதவன். தன் வாழ்க்கை தன் பயணம் தனி என்பதை உணர்ந்து தன் இலக்குகளையும் இலக்கணங்களையும் வகுத்துக் கொள்பவன்..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;அன்று எங்களுக்குத் தெரிந்த எல்லோரைப் பற்றியும் பேசினான்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;நான் சிலருக்கு உதவ முற்படவில்லை என்று குற்றம் சொன்னான்... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;என் கவலை அவனுக்குத் தெரியாது..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;அவனுடைய சில ப்ரச்சனைகளையும் பேசினான்... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;வேலை பிடிக்கவில்லை என்பதுத் தொடங்கி, ஒரு பெண்ணைக் காதலிக்க முடியவில்லை என்பது வரை சின்ன சின்னப் புகார்கள். ஒரு நண்பனாக நான் என் கடமைத் தவரி விட்டதாகச் சொன்னான். &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;பின் தானே அவைகளை பார்த்துக் கொள்வதாகவும்.. என் உதவி தேவை இல்லை என்றும் சொன்னான்..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"I have to seek favor from you... எல்லாம் என் விதி... " என்று நொந்துக் கொண்டான்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"You guys lack the intelligence to differentiate between what's destiny and Freewill. That's your problem" என்றேன் நான்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"I hate you ... " என்று இணைப்பைத் துண்டித்து விட்டான்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Get Lost! I have my priorities too... " என்று நானும் இருந்து விட்டேன்... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;ஆனலும் மனசு கேட்கவில்லை... கொள்ளிடக்கரையின் குளிர் காற்றில் தூரத்து வெள்ளைக் கோபுரத்தை வெரித்து பார்த்தப் படி யோசித்துக் கொண்டே இதை உங்களுக்குச் சொல்லிக் கொண்டிருக்கிறேன்... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-7463812558182289030?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/7463812558182289030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=7463812558182289030' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7463812558182289030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7463812558182289030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/11/2.html' title='நண்பர்கள் 2'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-6673217780067154553</id><published>2010-07-06T01:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T01:41:35.078-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Psychology'/><title type='text'>Appreciation and Positive politics!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Okay! This is not something to do with principles of management. May be it is! I don't know. May be it's a little psychology, mere perception or a total myth. May be it's personal because it relates more to my behavior, rather my character. How well do we handle personal appreciation? A few gladly accepts them. A few cherishes them but pretends. A few underplay them. A few suspect and raise their eyebrows. A very few counter them diplomatically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am fine with all of it. I am not really worried about how people react to to good words. As long as they acknowledge it one way or the other I am glad. But there is a little curiosity in what people really feel when someone appreciates them. Most of the people around me including myself haven't got the maturity to handle appreciation. Rather we aren't sure how to react or respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very expressive. I argue a lot. I love talking. My vocabulary has got a lot in it that's not usual. I may sound a bit odd but I believe I am mostly sensible. I chide and appreciate wholeheartedly and I can do both to the same person at the same time. After all everyone has their share of good and bad and most importantly what I like in them and don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This becomes extremely challenging in the work atmosphere. People tend to perceive appreciation in a different manner. It's viewed as sheer politics when I appreciate someone's talent, the only reason being they are superiors to me. Assuming that it's quite normal for people  from such a heirarchial culture and business ethics to view it that way, what's more surprising is that even colleagues of my cadre and my sub-ordinates tend to get suspicious when I appreciate them. The best part being, I gain nothing out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't bother to prove that I am being genuine in my comments whenever I appreciate someone. Coz, people who understand can never complain and people who complain will never understand. But it irks and sometimes irritates when people fail to handle and acknowledge appreciation in the right way and pretend as if they didn't rejoice it. It just leaves me with three questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Aren't people sure about themselves and their traits?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Are people so dumb to differentiate a false appreciation from a genuine one? or Are they just being pretentious?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) If 1 and 2 are true, do such people really deserve an appreciation? :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I should really supress my desire to express my thoughts. What can help? Your thoughts? :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-6673217780067154553?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/6673217780067154553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=6673217780067154553' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6673217780067154553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6673217780067154553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/07/appreciation-and-positive-politics.html' title='Appreciation and Positive politics!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-3311047443714770964</id><published>2010-06-18T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T01:36:51.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>நண்பர்கள்!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;மாலே! மணிவண்ணா. மார்கழி நீராடுவான்&lt;br /&gt;மேலையார் செய்வனகள் வேண்டுவன கேட்டியேல்&lt;br /&gt;ஞாலத்தை எல்லாம் நடுங்க முரல்வன&lt;br /&gt;பால் அன்ன வண்ணத்து  உன் பாஞ்ச ஜன்னியமே...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;மேலை சித்திர வீதியின் முகப்பில் சூடிக் கொடுத்தச் சுடர்கொடியின் பாசுரம் முழங்க கண்ணைப் புரட்டி விழிக்கிறேன். இன்னும் கொஞ்ச நேரத்தில் காவிரி வெள்ளத்தின் ஜிலீர் சப்தத்தைக் ஊமையாய் அடித்தப்படி பேரிரைச்சலுடன் வந்து நிற்கும் கூடல்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;அந்த மின்தொடர் வண்டியில் தான் அநேகமாக சேஷாத்ரி பயணப்படப் போகிறான். நேற்றே என்னைக் கண்டு பேசிவிட்டுத் தான் புறப்பட்டான். அதிக நேரம் உரையாட முடியவில்லை. இன்று காலையில் எப்படியும் அவன் புறப்படுமுன் பார்க்க வேண்டும் என்று தான் நினைத்தேன். ஞாயிற்றுக் கிழமை சற்று அதிகம் தூங்கி விட்டேன். இன்னேரம் அந்த ரயில் நிலைய விடுதியில் வடையைத் தின்றுவிட்டு S4 இல் ஏறியிருப்பான்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;சமீப காலமாக எங்களுக்குள் சுமுகமில்லை. வாக்கு வாதங்கள் நிறைய ஏற்படுகிறது. அவனுக்கு எதிராக நான் வீம்புக்கென்றே செயல் படுவதாக ஊருக்குள் புலம்பி வைத்திருக்கிறான். எனக்கு விளக்கம் சொல்ல எப்பொழுதும் நேரம் இருப்பதில்லை.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ஆயிரம் பேருக்கு பதில் சொல்ல வேண்டியிருக்கிறது. வேலை அப்படி. நம்பிக்கையை காப்பாற்றிக்கொள்ள போராட வேண்டியிருக்கிறது. இதை புரிந்து கொள்ளாமல் நான் இவனை நிராகரிப்பதாக நினைக்கிறான். இதற்கு ஒரு முடிவு கட்டவே இவனை இந்த வாரம் வீட்டுக்கு அழைத்தேன். வந்தவன் வந்தான்... சட சட வென பத்துக் கேள்விகளை கேட்டுவிட்டுச் சென்றுவிட்டான். இத்தனைக்கும் என் தவறும் இருக்கிறது. நேற்றும் கொஞ்சம் வேலை அதிகம். கோபித்துக் கொண்டு ஊருக்குக் கிளம்பி விட்டான்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ஆனால் என்னைக் கண்டதில் அவனுக்கு இருந்த ஆனந்தத்தை அவன் கண்ணிலே நான் பார்த்துவிட்டேன். எனக்கும் தான். ஆனால் அவன் அதை கவனித்திருக்க மாட்டான்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;கோபம் அவனைக் குருடனாக்கி இருக்கும்...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;தொடரும்...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-3311047443714770964?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/3311047443714770964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=3311047443714770964' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/3311047443714770964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/3311047443714770964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post_18.html' title='நண்பர்கள்!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-7033829492500421927</id><published>2010-06-08T00:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T00:14:08.052-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thamizh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>கன்னித் தமிழ்</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;இமைகள் நயம்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;பார்வை பொருள்கோள்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;நாசித் தளை&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;உதடுகள் எதுகை &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;கன்னக்குழிக் கவிதை&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;தனம் இயற்சீர்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;இடையோ இல்பொருள்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;கேசம் நெடில்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;விரல்கள் அணி&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;நீ மட்டுமே மெய்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;நீயே என் உயிர்!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-7033829492500421927?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/7033829492500421927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=7033829492500421927' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7033829492500421927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7033829492500421927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html' title='கன்னித் தமிழ்'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-6314353104607263336</id><published>2010-04-20T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T14:41:14.071-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>Who am I???</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I Salvage a great deal of Pride when people know me as &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sarathi's son in Kanchipuram&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Srini's brother @ my apartment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Prasanna's classmate in my college&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Archana's student in MetLife&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Srikkanth's roommate in Appleton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Ambika's friend @ Charlotte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Murali's buddy @ New York!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;At times, I feel I never have an identity without you guys! :-) Thanks a ton!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;But when it comes to people's heart I still stay there as "Seshadri" ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;So what do you reckon??? ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-6314353104607263336?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/6314353104607263336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=6314353104607263336' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6314353104607263336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6314353104607263336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/04/who-am-i.html' title='Who am I???'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-2254806396241675470</id><published>2010-04-06T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T00:19:04.966-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cinema'/><title type='text'>Angadi Theru to be reviewed soon!</title><content type='html'>கதைகளை பேசும் விழி அருகே எதை நான் பேச எனதுயிரே! காதல் சுடுதே... காய்ச்சல் வருதே!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ஆரவார இசையோடு விண்ணைத்தாண்டி மின்னும் நட்சத்திரக் காதலைவிட ஏனோ மிகச்சமீபத்தில் மெழுகு போல் உருகி ஒளிரும், சோகமும், ஏழ்மையும், உண்மையும், எளிமையும் கூடிய அங்காடித் தெருக் காதல் உயிரைத் தொடுகிறது.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-2254806396241675470?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/2254806396241675470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=2254806396241675470' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2254806396241675470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2254806396241675470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/04/angadi-theru-to-be-reviewed-soon.html' title='Angadi Theru to be reviewed soon!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-9111207861424528713</id><published>2010-04-05T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T19:19:15.354-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Retrospection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>நினைவலைகள்2...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html"&gt;நினைவலைகள்1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;இன்று ஒருத் தகவலில் தொடங்கும் காலைப்பொழுதில், மென்மையாகக் கதை சொல்லிக்கொண்டிருக்கிறார் தென்கச்சி சுவாமினாதன். வரது ரிக்ஷா மணி அடித்து பாதிக் கதையில் என்னை அபகரித்து பள்ளி நோக்கி ப்ரயாணப் படுகிறது. பெரும்பாலும் பக்கத்து வகுப்போடு வளைகூடா போர் நிகழ்த்தி வெற்றிக் கொள்வதில் கழிகிறது என் நாள். வீடு திரும்பும்பொழுது குறுக்குப் பாதைகளில் ஜவுட்டாளி முற்கள் கிழிக்க ஓடி ரிக்ஷாவைத் துரத்திப் பிடிக்கையில் ஆடிட்டர் மகள் சங்கீதா ஆச்சர்யத்துடன் சிந்தும் புன்னகையில் நிறம்பி வழிகிறது என் வீர நெஞ்சம்.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;முதன்முதலில் தொலைக்காட்சியில் ரஸித்த பெண் மெட்ரோ ப்ரியா. கைகளை வளைத்து பாடல் வரிஸைகளை அழகாய்த் தொகுத்து வழங்கும் அவளை விஞ்சிவிட இன்று வரை ஒரு தொகுப்பாளினி கூட தமிழகத்திற்கு கிட்டாமல் போனது வருந்தத்தக்க ஒன்று. ரங்கோலி ராமாயணம் ஜங்கிள் புக் என கரையும் ஞாயிறுகளில் தூர்தர்ஷன் மாநில ஒளிபரப்புத் திரைப்படம் ஓடிக்கொண்டிருக்க சென்னைத் தொலைக்காட்சி மைய்யம் அடிக்கடி தடங்கலுக்கு வருந்திப் பொருமையை சோதிக்கிறது.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ஒருசில மாதத் தேர்வுகளில் அனுப்ரியா ஓரிரு மதிப்பெண்களில் முதலிடத்தைத் தட்டிச் செல்கிறாள். அவள் மீது கடும்கோபமும் தீராப்பகையும் கொண்டிருந்தாலும், பெரும் மரியாதையும், அதீத பயமும் உடன் ஒடுகிறதே! "மதி"ப்பெண் மதிப்பெண் பெருவது விந்தையல்லவே! "மதி" என்றால் சந்திரன் என்று அப்பா சொல்லிக் கொடுத்தது பத்து வயதில் தான். ஆக இவ்விடத்தில் அறிவு என்றே பொருள் கொள்க. :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;தொடர்வேன்...!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-9111207861424528713?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/9111207861424528713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=9111207861424528713' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/9111207861424528713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/9111207861424528713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/04/2.html' title='நினைவலைகள்2...'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-2217144849611917628</id><published>2010-03-29T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T19:11:46.708-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Retrospection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>நினைவலைகள்....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;சரித்திரத்திற்கும் சாமான்யத்துக்கும் நடுவே தன்னிலை அறியாமல் சிக்கித் தவித்துக்கொண்டிருப்போர் பட்டியலில் நானும் இணைந்து ஒரு சில ஆண்டுகள் ஆகி விட்டது. ஒளியை விடவும் அதிவேகமாக ப்ராயணப் படும் திறன் கொண்டது எண்ணங்கள். முப்பதாயிரம் மைல்களுக்கு அப்பால் இருக்கும் காஞ்சியில் 8 வயதே ஆன என்னை என் வீட்டு திண்ணையில் மீண்டும் சந்திப்பதற்கு ஒரு மாத்திரை நேரம் கூட பிடிப்பதில்லை.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;வரதராஜா டூரிங் டாக்கிஸில் "மருதமலை மாமணியே முருகைய்யா" பாடலுடன் தொடங்குகிறது எனது பின்மாலைப் பொழுது. கண்ணதாஸனும் வாலியும் தொடர்ந்து சிந்தையை கட்டிவைக்க, தாத்தாவின் மடியில் படுத்துக்கொண்டு கதைகள் கேட்டுக் கொண்டே தூங்கிப்போகிறேன். எனக்கு கவிதை வரிகள் மீது ஆர்வமேற்பட காரணமாயிருந்த பொன்மாலைப் பொழுதுகள் அவை. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;கரடி மாமா, ஜடப்பளூரார், ராமு மாமா, கோபு தாத்தா என யாரவது ஒருவர் தாத்தாவைப் &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;பா&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;ர்க்க வர, ஊர் அரசியல் அனைத்தும் அத்துப்படி ஆகிப் போயிருந்தது. விவித் பாரதியின் வர்த்தக ஒளிபரப்பும், உலா வரும் ஒளிக்கதிர், ஒளியும் ஒலியும், எதிரொலி முதலான தொலைக்காட்சி நிகழ்வுகளும் தான் என் சின்னஞ்சிறு உலகத்தின் வாசல். &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;ஷோபனா ரவி, அன்பழகன், சந்தியா ராஜகோபாலன், இவர்களில் யார் அன்றைய செய்தியை வாஸிக்கப் போகிறார்கள் என்பது தான் மிகப் பெரியப் போட்டி. படிப்பில் என்றுமே முதன்மை இடம். ஆதலால் அது பற்றிக் கவலைக் கொண்டதே இல்லை.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;இப்பொழுது முக்காலும் யெந்திரமாகி விட்ட ஊரில் குழந்தைகள் விரும்பி திரும்பிப் பார்க்க ஒரு சில நினைவுகளேனும் இருக்கிறதா என்பது எனக்குத் தெரியாது....  தொடர்வேன்.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-2217144849611917628?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/2217144849611917628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=2217144849611917628' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2217144849611917628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2217144849611917628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title='நினைவலைகள்....'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-6060589431907852218</id><published>2010-03-29T20:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T21:02:55.571-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiences'/><title type='text'>To NewYork with Love! - 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;China Town probably is the busiest place in New York :-) Lot's of police and lots of crime. Should it be the other way around? :-) Never mind. As we rushed into the "Goto" bus office (a room full of boxes, posters and benches) we were informed that the bus to Washington has already left. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"But... wasn't it supposed to be at 7?" - Murali&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A beautiful Chinese girl replied - "It got full and left"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Then what about the reservation we made?" - This is Murali showing the ticket to the representative. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bus had no reservation options as such atleast for shuttles. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's only an option to pre-pay :-) and the best part is we have to rush into the bus to pull up a seat for ourselves. If we lag, then someone else takes it up and we should wait for the next bus to return from Baltimore as standing is not allowed. A scenario typical to boarding mofussil buses in my country. It was total fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As a bus arrived in front of the office after an hour I ran to board it even before someone can get down and secured 5 seats with my bag and me completely lying on a seat :-) Aiyaa (Rajesh) swiftly followed me to secure some more seats and finally it happened to be a bus going to the shed. We laughed at ourselves and half an hour later we boarded a bus in a similar fashion to start off to Washington DC. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bus, to my surprise had a restroom and a wireless internet connection. It was awesome and comfortable. I browsed a little, spoke to my friends on phone and finally leaned on my best friend's shoulder as we discussed our past, present and future through the rest of our journey. We missed Mani and that's when our plan to travel to Los Angeles together sparkled. I didn't fail to revisit my hectic day as the bus was speeding at 100 miles an hour towards the most powerful capital in the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;----Beginning of Retrospection------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Boss engira Ramalingam started along with me Murali and Aiya from the apartment as we strolled down the beautiful streets of New York. Radha with his brother "Kuzhanthai" (as I call him) joined us at the summit of concrete Mt.Empire State and Masthan from Minneapolis joined us at the China Town. Ketha (Murali's roomie) helped me by giving his bag. Chella paandi dropped off the trip due to a production move scheduled that weekend. Lunch at Madras Mahal and a foto shoot with the Empire state were the only relaxed moments of the day. Otherwise I was on a plane, train or bus all the day. Else I was running.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;----End of Retrospection------ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lost 5 LBs when I returned home 4 days later&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-6060589431907852218?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/6060589431907852218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=6060589431907852218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6060589431907852218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6060589431907852218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-newyork-with-love-2.html' title='To NewYork with Love! - 2'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-6139737208282762923</id><published>2010-02-12T17:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T23:34:21.771-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiences'/><title type='text'>To NewYork with Love! - 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/04/20-bill.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;prequel to this blog is here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZLaCzcmsI/AAAAAAAAAEI/R_o9kPLqyJw/s1600-h/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+057.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZImFaHufI/AAAAAAAAADY/QWLHT6S-syA/s1600-h/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZImFaHufI/AAAAAAAAADY/QWLHT6S-syA/s320/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437613419220417010" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I was at the La Guardia airport as the Christmas sun shone brightly over the amazing sky scrappers of New York city. I had to help myself to reach my friend's place in New Jersey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Get into M60 and get down at the Lexington avenue East 7th street junction, he told when I called him up. 7th street and what nagar ?:-) I asked him. And by the way, will you be there to receive me when I get down there? No da... get into the Metro station and board the blue line to Hoboken came the reply. And on your way back to Fairmont avenue, get down at the Journal square. I just told ok. And don't forget! You won't have signal when you get into the station and every time you enter the station you need a pass. I was furious. So you want me to remember everything you told me now? Yes, was his reply. I am new to all this. Train passes, yellow, blue and red lines, Streets and avenue junctions everything. I am from a little village called Appleton.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Follow the route I told you. Don't worry. You won't die. My friend yelled on the phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So... how long does it take to reach your place?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;1.5 hrs I guess. And give me a call when you get down at the Journal square.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Will you be there to pick me up from there? this is me....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;No da... I can guide you to my apartment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;F*****.... hang up! I told.... :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZG15vwV9I/AAAAAAAAADI/vv_stThyCbM/s1600-h/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+001.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZG15vwV9I/AAAAAAAAADI/vv_stThyCbM/s320/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437611491944585170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I recalled everything he told once and was very successful in reaching his apartment. Well it should be evident now :-) I entered his apartment on the 23rd floor. To my surprise there were 7 guys onboard trying to disturb my concentration and get me out. I didn't know any of them but when I came back to Appleton after a 3 day long trip, I had 7 more friends added to my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I peeped out of his bedroom window in awe. The New York skyline on the banks of a standstill Hudson was a visual treat. I didn't have the luxury to enjoy the sight for long as I, along with 6 others had to rush for a little sight seeing before boarding a bus to Washington DC.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZHsOeFllI/AAAAAAAAADQ/mSj3uqzzpHU/s1600-h/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+323.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZHsOeFllI/AAAAAAAAADQ/mSj3uqzzpHU/s320/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+323.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437612425220560466" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Missed lunch at Saravana Bhavan, missed climbing the Empire state, missed a long time fun at rock feller. My friend was taking us in rectangular paths despite several warnings from me that his iphone GPS is taking one-ways into account and he is in "travel by car" mode. He used his experience on the streets of New York as an advantage to overshadow my common sense until I got into a rebellious mode by not walking further with the group. He then realized his folly and it cost me a much anticipated lunch at HSB after a year. The wish was satisfied only in September 2009 at Sunnyvale.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZJgzCR6FI/AAAAAAAAADo/IQMdRk-EEGA/s1600-h/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZJgzCR6FI/AAAAAAAAADo/IQMdRk-EEGA/s320/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437614427900864594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;We ran and ran and ran from Rock feller to the Manhattan as it was getting late to board the bus to Washington. As we entered the China Town past Manhattan, nativity bestowed upon me. I felt like I was in Burma Bazaar, Pary's corner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZKmwZip8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/FI22k1b4HpY/s1600-h/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+040.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZKmwZip8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/FI22k1b4HpY/s320/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437615629783967682" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZKKvrIyFI/AAAAAAAAADw/XCe5Ub2115E/s1600-h/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+043.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZKKvrIyFI/AAAAAAAAADw/XCe5Ub2115E/s320/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+043.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437615148552996946" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZK3eKi3qI/AAAAAAAAAEA/xYKI6yvHyWY/s1600-h/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZK3eKi3qI/AAAAAAAAAEA/xYKI6yvHyWY/s320/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+053.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437615916947005090" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZLaCzcmsI/AAAAAAAAAEI/R_o9kPLqyJw/s1600-h/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZLaCzcmsI/AAAAAAAAAEI/R_o9kPLqyJw/s320/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+057.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437616510897789634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Will continue....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-6139737208282762923?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/6139737208282762923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=6139737208282762923' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6139737208282762923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6139737208282762923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/02/to-newyork-with-love-1.html' title='To NewYork with Love! - 1'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S3ZImFaHufI/AAAAAAAAADY/QWLHT6S-syA/s72-c/New+York+%26+Washington+Trip+022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-7683604670833928509</id><published>2010-02-03T10:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T09:36:39.846-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thamizh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>நிறையாத கோப்பை!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;அமாவாசை நாளின்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;இரண்டான் ஜாமத்தில்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;இணய மறுக்கும் இமைகள்!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;நீர்த்துப்போன உரைகற்களின் ஊடே&lt;br /&gt;சிதறிக் கிடக்கும் ஒளிக் கூறுகளால்&lt;br /&gt;சித்திரச் சுவராகிறது என் சாளரம்!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;நிஸப்தத்தைக் கிழித்துக்கொண்டு&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;உனக்கும் எனக்குமான&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;தூரத்தைத் தின்றபடி&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;விரைந்து கொண்டிருக்கிறது&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ஒரு பறவை!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;வாசிப்பின் ஸ்வாரஸ்யத்தில்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;எழுத மறந்துவிட்ட,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ரசனையின் விஸ்தரிப்பில்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;விமர்சிக்கத் தவறிவிட்ட&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;யாருக்கும் தெரியாத&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ரகசிய வாசகன்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;நான்!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;நீயென்ற ஒற்றைக் கிளையில்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;விரும்பி மாட்டிக்கொண்ட,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;மனக் குரங்கு&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;வேண்டி அழுவது&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;வீடா? விடுதலையா?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ஆடுகளத்தில் நீயே&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;எதிரியும் பந்தயமுமாய் இருக்க - எப்படி&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ஒன்றை வெறுத்து மற்றொன்றை நேசிக்க?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;நீயென்னை நிராகரிக்கும் பொழுதுகளில்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;எனக்கு ஏன் தேவை இல்லாமல்,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;கடவுள் மேல் கோபம் வருகிறது?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-7683604670833928509?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/7683604670833928509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=7683604670833928509' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7683604670833928509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7683604670833928509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html' title='நிறையாத கோப்பை!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-6126246314089314325</id><published>2010-01-19T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T14:06:32.100-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experinces'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Creation'/><title type='text'>Revolution ;-)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I argue a lot. I am viewed as an obstinate persuader. I am not in a deep consideration to change my ways after all. If at all I quit, there is only one reason. The opposition is too dumb and adamant, highly insensible and can’t maintain relevance. Sometimes I am wrong. &lt;strong&gt;Strictly, only sometimes&lt;/strong&gt;. I don’t like definitions qualifying the examples. It should be vice versa. When I tell you a statement and brief it with an example, if you bring in an absolutely irrelevant trait of the same example and initiate a new discussion deviating from the crux of the original problem statement, I get pissed off. Had it been 5 years back, I would have literally thrashed the person who does such an insensible thing. These days I am growing more patient. It’s on the verge of this happening; I usually quit an argument (for me it’s only a conversation). Not that I don’t have a point to make but pursuing further is insanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends asked, if you are so inclined about changing the ways of life with your talks, why don’t you create a revolution? Why don’t you become a revolutionary? Here’s what I told him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to be a revolutionary because&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am born in India. I will loose all my happiness in life to become a martyr. Later, a chapter about me will appear in the 5th grade Tamil Language text book under the state board syllabus. Even my grandchildren won’t read it. Even if they do, they will scold me heartily. People will probably erect a statue for me in marina beach. Wait… there is no space already. Secondly I should have been a revolutionary in the Dravidian movement to deserve that, portraying Tamil to be the best language in the world, Tamil speaking people to be the most revered, feared and adored in the world apart from calling other languages, culture and communities a total crap. I am an Aryan by birth as per the rulers of my state. So I don’t qualify for that honor in first place. Even if it happens in the least probability, the crow will spit on me (my statue) every day. Politicians and other revolutionaries will honor my statue with a garland on my birth day and death day every year with a fake smile and crocodile tears. The crow’s act is far better than this. They will make and break the statue as the rulers change and revolt happens. First of all they will shoot me dead. OMG!!! How can I forget that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine now, if I don’t get a statue, I will at least get a street named after me. The name board will be in the corner of the street where housewives will accumulate garbage, small children (only?) will excrete and dogs will piss off. The only benefit is that I would have become a part of the Indian history. I am already now :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will have a small house in a remote village near Chennai which will become my memorial later. The dark and deserted place will function as a place of illegal and illicit activities like, pre-marital sex and drug smuggling, all through the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are few other revolutionaries who aren’t my kind. They call themselves the people’s servant and have all their earnings (not from legal sources ofcourse) distributed amongst their relatives while they still lead a simple life and stay poor. They did the greatest sacrifices the world has ever seen. Don’t worry people will believe and the history will repeat. Who knows? May be they will become Gods after 100 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead I can choose this. A honest earning, a 6 digit salary, a 5 bedroom apartment, a 4 wheel drive, 3 good friends, 2 cute children and 1 sweet heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey wait a moment… before you go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the destiny has in it that I should become a revolutionary one day, then “SO BE IT!” :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-6126246314089314325?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/6126246314089314325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=6126246314089314325' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6126246314089314325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6126246314089314325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/01/revolution.html' title='Revolution ;-)'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-4107426623605416330</id><published>2010-01-06T10:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T15:54:54.474-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>My way of life....!</title><content type='html'>ஒன்பது பத்து வயதிருக்கும் எனக்கு... நித்தினோடு அவன் வீட்டில் விளையாடிக்கொண்டிருந்தேன்...அவன் பிறந்த நாளைக்கு அவன் புதிதாய் வாங்கியிருந்த Chuckles ஓடு சேர்த்து கிட்டத்தட்ட அவனிடம் GIJOE பொம்மைகள் அனைத்துமே இருந்தன. பெரிய Tankerகள், விமானங்கள் எல்லாம் பார்த்து ஆனந்தத்திலும் ஆச்சர்யத்திலும் நான் அந்த பொம்மைகளுக்கான கதைகளை யோசித்துக் கொண்டிருந்தேன். &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;நித்தினுடையப் பாட்டி மிகுந்த அன்பு கொண்டவர்கள். என்னை ஆதரித்து விளையாட அனுமதித்தார்கள். அவனின் அப்பா அம்மா கூட மிகுந்த அன்பு கொண்டவர்கள். நான் அடிக்கடி அவன் வீட்டிற்க்குச் சென்றேன். கதைகள் சொல்வேன். அது முழு ஆண்டு தேர்வு முடிந்து விடுமுறைக்காலம்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;நித்தின் என்ன நினைத்தானெனத் தெரியவில்லை. திடீரென சில பொம்மைகளை உள்ளே வைத்து மறைத்துக் கொண்டான். சிறிது நேரம் கழித்து பாட்டி என்னை வீட்டிற்க்கு சென்று ஓய்வெடுத்து விட்டு மீண்டும் மாலையில் வரச்சொன்னார்கள். பொம்மைகளின் மீதிருந்தக் காதலும், என்னுடைய முட்டாள் தனமும் சேர்ந்துக் கொண்டு என்னை அங்கிருந்து வீடு திரும்புவதை தடுத்தது.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"நித்தின் சாப்பிட்டு தூங்கணும் கண்ணா. சொன்னாக் கேளு"&lt;br /&gt;"இல்லப் பாட்டி நான் wait பண்றேன்"&lt;br /&gt;"அம்மா கிட்ட சொல்லி உனக்கு இதே மதிரி ஒரு பொம்மை வாங்கித் தர சொல்றேன்.. இப்பொ சமர்த்தாய் வீட்டுக்கு போ!"&lt;br /&gt;பாட்டி சாதாரணமாகத் தான் சொன்னார்கள். எனக்கு அப்பொழுது தான் என்னமோ போல் இருந்தது. இல்லாமையயை முதல் முறை உணர்வு பூர்வமாக அனுபவித்தத் தருணமாக அது இருந்திருக்கக் கூடும். GIJOE Full set Rs. 2500. அப்பாவை கேக்கலாம்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;எங்கள் வீட்டுக் கூரை மழை நாளில் எங்களுக்கு அவ்வப்போது அபிஷேகம் செய்யத் தவருவதில்லை. அப்பா அச்சு ஒடு போட முடிவெடுத்திருந்தார். 2500 ரூபாய் பிடிக்கும் என்று பேஸிக்கொண்டிருந்தனர். PF லோன் போடணும். அம்மாவிடம் நடந்ததைக் சொல்லவில்லை. நித்தின் வீட்டிற்க்கு செல்வதுமில்லை.ஒரு வேளை இல்லாமையில் வந்தத் தாழ்வு மனப்பான்மையாக இருக்கலாம்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;அம்மாவிடம் பொம்மை வேண்டுமென்று அடம் பிடித்தேன். 63 ரூபாய்க்கு ஒரு பொம்மை வாங்கித்தந்தாள். அவளுடைய அம்மாவிடம் அன்றிரவு சொல்லிக் கொண்டிருந்தாள். பாவம் பொம்மை வெண்டுமென்று ஆசையாய் கேட்கிறான். இவன் அப்பா வீட்டை சரி செய்ய இப்பொழுதுதான் லோன் போட்டிருக்கார். 2500 ரூபாய்க்கு பொம்மை வாங்கித்தரும் நிலைல நாங்க இல்லையேமா...குழந்தைக்கு எப்படி சொல்லி புரிய வைப்பேன்.&lt;br /&gt;எனக்கு என்னமோ புரிந்தது. இனி யாரையும் எனக்கு மைல்கல்லாக வைத்து கொள்ளாக் கூடாதென முடிவு செய்தேன். எனக்கு நானே மேற்கோள். இன்று என்னிடம் ஒரு GIJOE இருக்கிறான். அடுத்த ஆண்டு மேலும் இரண்டு சேர்க்க வெண்டும். நானே காசு சேர்த்து வாங்க வெண்டும். அப்பாவை கேட்பதாய் இல்லை.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;அப்பொழுது அந்த குணத்தின் அருமை தெரியவில்லை. பின்னாளில் ஒவ்வொரு தோல்வியிலும், ஒவ்வொரு தாமதத்திலும் நிம்மதியும் அடுத்த நடவடிக்கைக்கான வ்யூகமும் தெளிவாய் தெரிந்தது. அடுத்தவருக்குக் கிடைத்ததைக் கண்டு உள்ளம் குமுரிக் கொண்டிருப்பதில் என்ன அர்த்தம் இருக்கிறது?&lt;br /&gt;என் பாதை வேறு, என் பயணம் வேறு. அடுத்தவனின் தேவையும் இருப்பும் எனக்கு எந்த மட்டிலும் சம்மந்தமில்லாத ஒன்று.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;பின் பங்குனி உத்திரத்தன்று கோவிலில் விற்கப்படும் சாணி பொம்மைத் தவிர எதையும் நாடியதில்லை. அப்பா எல்லாம் தந்தார். சிறந்த கல்வி, சிறந்த மருத்துவம், சிறந்த உணவு, சிறந்த உடைகள் என எல்லாம் தந்தார். எல்லாமே அவருடைய சக்தியை மீறித்தான் செய்தார். எல்லாவற்றையும் கடந்து என்னையும் Sriniயையும் அன்போடும் ஸந்தோஷத்தோடும் வளர்த்தார், இன்றும் வளர்த்து வருகிறார்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;எனக்கு என்ன வேண்டுமென்று எனக்குத் தெரியும். அதை அடுத்தவரின் விருப்பங்களோ வாழ்வியல் முறையோ முடிவு செய்வதில்லை. எல்லோரும் அப்படி இருக்கத் தேவையில்லை.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-4107426623605416330?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/4107426623605416330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=4107426623605416330' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/4107426623605416330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/4107426623605416330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html' title='My way of life....!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-635727003080247091</id><published>2009-12-16T21:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T23:24:02.192-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Peter Times! Sometimes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/SysuB65pOGI/AAAAAAAAACY/Cgu8YQzm-Kk/s1600-h/fingers+crossed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/SysuB65pOGI/AAAAAAAAACY/Cgu8YQzm-Kk/s320/fingers+crossed.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416473587368933474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day is gonna pass&lt;div&gt;Without a word spoken Alas!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am keeping my fingers crossed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoping only to be endorsed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the la Bella dame sans mercy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the beautiful dream of events I foresee&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the curfew of thoughts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amidst the multiple whats...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With my eyes and dozes far apart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cling to her like a pin on the dart!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS: Audience.... I solicit your patience and utmost tolerance on this post :-) Thanks for putting up with me all these years...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-635727003080247091?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/635727003080247091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=635727003080247091' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/635727003080247091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/635727003080247091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/12/peter-times-sometimes.html' title='Peter Times! Sometimes!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/SysuB65pOGI/AAAAAAAAACY/Cgu8YQzm-Kk/s72-c/fingers+crossed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-2883351386755988777</id><published>2009-09-14T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T17:48:59.028-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thamizh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Psychology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>வாழ்க்கை</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;அலை அடித்து துவைத்ததில் சாயம் போயிருக்கிறது என் சட்டை!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;கறையில் நிற்பவர்கள் சிரிக்கிறார்கள்....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;கையில் ஸமோஸாவுடன்!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;என் உள்ளங்கையில் இருக்கிப் பிடித்திருக்கிறேன் &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;இரண்டு முத்துக்களை!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;கொஞ்ச நேர பெருமைக்குப் பின் பசி எடுக்க - இதோ... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;முத்துக்களை விற்று ஸமோஸா வாங்கப் பொகிறேன்&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;அங்கேச் சிரித்துக் கொண்டிருப்பவர்கள்... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;எதனை விற்று ஸமோஸா வாங்கினார்கள் என்று எனக்குத் தெரியாது!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-2883351386755988777?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/2883351386755988777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=2883351386755988777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2883351386755988777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2883351386755988777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title='வாழ்க்கை'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-3854948705969365295</id><published>2009-09-11T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T19:58:39.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Emotional!</title><content type='html'>This is going to be partially a justification, partially psychological, partially philosophical but completely sensible! Have you ever been tagged emotional by your fellow beings? colleagues and relatives? Are you the most aggressive person in your group? Do you tend to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;erupt&lt;/span&gt; when someone kindle you? Fine! You are emotionally imbalanced then. Because you don't have a good control over your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;temperament&lt;/span&gt;. You are turbulent. So what do I advise you to do? Feel ashamed and kill yourself! Does it benefit others? May be yes! Does it make a difference to you? Definitely yes? Because you aren't what you are anymore? Is this change necessary? Yes. It's mandatory!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can we stop talking crap?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you achieve by controlling your emotions? A Fake smile, some false friends, a number of volatile fans and finally millions and millions of dead cells on your head, face and eyes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do I achieve by letting out anger? Peace, true friends, focus, sometimes justice and only a hundreds of dead cells on my eyes and fore head. No further killing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is imbalance? Is this not a relative term? If there is abnormality what do you call normal? Who sets the bench mark? Society? Individuals? Economists? Psychologists?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is the measure to calculate imbalance? Can anyone explain? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't have answers for all the questions. I am not very optimistic about staying cool. You aren't a piece of sink &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;after all&lt;/span&gt;. If you're one, you are junk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speak your thoughts, display your emotions, spread the attitude and be unique. Be yourself. Masking secures identity and it's good only on computers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Of course&lt;/span&gt; have morality and ethics. Definitely everybody deserve respect. Letting out anger isn't a sign of disrespect or insult. Communicating your disappointment comforts you to large extent than keeping it with in you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After all life is short. Why do you need a mask? Why shouldn't you have a rigid shape?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ego is the unique you. Don't pretend to have lost it. Modesty is not the best policy but honesty is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Laugh and dance on your success!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sing and shout when excited&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cuddle and cry when defeated&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Display anger and boil on dismay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stand up, stay unique, spread attitude and be yourself!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being emotional is not stupidity. It's being genuine. I am not bothered to be angry as long as I make sense. Does it make sense? You should have quit long time back if it was non-sense :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bottom Line: Managers are assertive! Leaders are aggressive! I choose to be a leader. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because ... Leaders sacrifice themselves for their people and principles while managers sacrifice people and principle for business&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-3854948705969365295?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/3854948705969365295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=3854948705969365295' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/3854948705969365295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/3854948705969365295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/09/being-emotional.html' title='Being Emotional!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-8502576096096629988</id><published>2009-08-08T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T19:20:59.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>தோழமை</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/Sn4wzRjexII/AAAAAAAAACQ/olmiCF2gSBQ/s1600-h/Breaking+Up(English).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 290px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/Sn4wzRjexII/AAAAAAAAACQ/olmiCF2gSBQ/s320/Breaking+Up(English).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367781463315891330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;நீ நிராகரித்துக் கொண்டே இருப்பதும்&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;நான் புரிந்து கொண்டே இருப்பதும்&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;என்னைக் கொன்று தெய்வம் வளர்க்குமாம்!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;நானே இல்லையென்றான பொழுது &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;யாருக்காக இந்தக் கடவுளை&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;நான் ஸ்ரிஷ்டிக்க வெண்டும்?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-8502576096096629988?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/8502576096096629988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=8502576096096629988' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/8502576096096629988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/8502576096096629988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title='தோழமை'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/Sn4wzRjexII/AAAAAAAAACQ/olmiCF2gSBQ/s72-c/Breaking+Up(English).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-8566391817619515066</id><published>2009-08-07T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T21:09:05.789-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Retrospection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Psychology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>What To Name it?</title><content type='html'>It's 07:30 PM Friday Night. Rain played a spoil sport... So no cricket today. I am skipping dinner too. I don't feel like eating. I am not in a mood to write. But something is pushing me...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There had been times when I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;obsessed&lt;/span&gt; with browsing. That was when I had a dial up connection at home and Internet access was restricted. Mom was trying hard to save money on phone bills. 54&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mbps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; has made a huge difference. I don't care to browse anymore. There had been times when I used to fight with my brother on a packet of lays. The classic lays family pack on the top of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;refrigerator&lt;/span&gt; at my home is already heading towards expiry. There had been times when I used to steal few cashews that mom used keep in a safe place at home. She would have bought it for some upcoming festival. I have half a kg of cashew lying untouched for months in my kitchen shelf now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does it convey something?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To me it does. When things are rare, they become special. When things open to abundant access, they fail to attract. Rather I don't care. Linking this back to the management principle, if there is too much demand, the value goes up. Quality is secondary. If the supply is huge, the value goes down. Again Quality becomes secondary. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When a product opens up to a huge demand, there is this initial craze. The value goes up. The excited producers produce more dreaming of larger profits. As the seasons swing, the craze dies down. The value goes down. Finally the producers go down. Premier &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Padmini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of early 90s and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;LML&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Vespa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; are wonderful examples. Don't forget to consider the competitors around. They are significant in the product life cycle. In most cases they made the others fall. And their fall is inevitable too. Unless they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;upgrade&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;strategize&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and stay fit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have always compared this to relationships. When love and care is available in abundance, they get noticed initially. People go gaga over the relationship. After a while, the respect dies down. Again please owe this to the competitors with better strategy around. :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if you closely notice, my dad and mom have always loved me with abundance. And some thickest friends too. 25 years and still going strong. Like the "New &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Britania&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" and the "new Colgate". :-) Though they were shadowed by glossy competitors at times, they have never died. The glossy competitors did. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not driving towards any valuable conclusion. In this column I have just decided to pen down my flow of thoughts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Materialism and materialistic relationships die. Rather they get replaced. Now please don't argue that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Britania&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and Colgate are a part of materialistic life too. :-) Just listen or quit!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The impact my past relationships had on me were significant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't care to bother if something slips. As long as my family and &lt;b&gt;friends&lt;/b&gt; stay, I stay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There had been testing times. There are testing times and there will be testing times. I just say to myself "This too shall pass" (இதுவும் கடந்து போகும்)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Telling this had been easier. Making it happen was a challenge. But not anymore. When few things broke, there had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;been&lt;/span&gt; times &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't know the reason&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't want to know the reason&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never knew the reason :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In business "Reasons" never count, Only "Results" does!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS: My first blog without a draft, without a reference to a dictionary and without a pause to think. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-8566391817619515066?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/8566391817619515066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=8566391817619515066' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/8566391817619515066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/8566391817619515066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-to-name-it.html' title='What To Name it?'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-1818515069903121456</id><published>2009-07-30T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T16:25:59.285-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Allies in Wonderland - Part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Part 1 is &lt;a href="http://alpha-beta-blogma.blogspot.com/2009/07/allies-in-wonderland-part-i.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It’s going to be daunting task. I know. My master has instructed me to walk you through the heaven while he could just follow me enjoying it’s elegance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In all probabilities the place is magical and captivating  on it’s own and my words will soon be a lost drop of water in the Volcano  :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“We have to run the entire day with just 2 cameras and a handy cam. Don’t waste the battery. We have a lot to cover. Restrict the usage only on astonishing scenes”. The instructions were ultra clear. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The heavy motor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;GMC&lt;/span&gt; vehicle slowed down as we approached the West entrance barricade  of the wonderland. An old forest officer was at the check post. He welcomed our crew with a warm smile and was enquiring about our plans. A week’s pass should work the best for you, he told. And it’s 25$. Per entrant? No…. For everyone put together. Now that’s astonishing. But we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t capture it on our cameras.  :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We never knew that the admittance to eternity was so economical. Fair fare &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;isn&lt;/span&gt;’t it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just 2 minutes into the arms of mother earth, we were bound by her grace and altruistic, affectionate hug. “Restrict the usage only on astonishing scenes!”. The master’s handy cam opened it’s lenses without a second thought. And so did we.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Coniferous trees, tall distant mountains with a snow cap (sulfur cap?), beautiful sky, mild breeze and fantastic driver. What more can you ask for?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Men may come and men may go but I go on forever…” sang the little rivulet as it came along with us to guide us through the park (forest?), trying to prove it’s immortality. You &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;aren&lt;/span&gt;’t invincible too I thought. Another 100 years, you might be under a sky scrapper. Oh! Did I miss something here? Do you still exist that way? Just like God… ? For people who believe only in obvious but fail to realize the depth of truth? Now don’t think too much and relish the excellence of nature. I told myself.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We stopped, took some snaps and started once again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we moved further into her broad arms, we realized that mother earth is not so peaceful always. She was turbulent too at times. She was furiously fuming at a few who played with her patience over the years. But she was fuming helplessly at a wrong place for injustice met to her at various other places. The sad part is, many of her own children are the culprits. The saddest part is, not so many knows that she is furious. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wait… wait… wait… I wanted to convey something else and I am deviating… please disregard the previous passage…!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well! That was a sight to watch…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Greeneries&lt;/span&gt; on one side and fuming sulfur on the other. Was that really sulfur? I was asking HM. Obviously he should be knowing Chemistry and geography. ;-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was also thinking about the “&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;KoLLivaai&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pisaasugaL&lt;/span&gt;” of ancient Tamil &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Nadu&lt;/span&gt;. He was thinking too, about my question on the composition of the fuming land…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And even before he could answer, I got it… The rotten egg smelling gas evolved and I knew from my little education that it was hydrogen sulfide. :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Jai&lt;/span&gt; pulled over the vehicle and we halted. We started to move on the trail discussing multiple things… The project was gearing up towards execution….&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The journey will continue…..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-1818515069903121456?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/1818515069903121456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=1818515069903121456' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/1818515069903121456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/1818515069903121456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-going-to-be-daunting-task.html' title='Allies in Wonderland - Part II'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-2815261055557378726</id><published>2009-07-17T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T12:02:17.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>தமிழுக்கு வந்தத் தலைவலி - பாகம் 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;அப்பொழுது நாங்கள் எட்டாவது படித்துக்கொண்டிருந்தோம். அதிக அளவில் தமிழ் சினிமா பார்க்க வாய்ப்பு கிடைத்தப் பருவம். அப்பாவின் தோள்களை எட்டும் நாள் தூரத்தில் இல்லாத தைரியம். சினிமாவுக்கு நெருக்கமான காதல் எங்களுக்கு விருப்பமானது இப்பொழுது நினைக்கையில் இயல்பென்றே தோன்றுகிறது.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ஆளுக்கு ஒரு நாயகி தேடுவோம். பின்பு ஆட்டமும் பாட்டமும் குறைவின்றி குதூகலிப்போம். வில்லன்களை விரட்டுவோம். மனதில் நினைத்த மங்கையை மாலையிட்டு மகிழ்வோம். பெற்றோர் தடுத்தால் போராடுவோம். முடியாமற்போனால் முறித்துக்கொள்வோம் உறவை....... பெற்றோருடன்!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;இதுவேப் பள்ளியில் பலரது ஸித்தாந்தம்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;என்னுடையது இதிலிருந்து சிறிது மாறுபட்டது. வேறொரு சமையம் சொல்கிறேன்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;அந்தப் பெண் எங்களுக்கு இரண்டு வயது இளையவள். சற்றுமுன் பூத்த வெளிர் அரளியின் நிறம். எப்பொழுதும் தித்திப்பான புன்னகையைத் தாங்கி வரும் அதிமதுரம் அவளதரம்! அந்தக் கன்னங்கள்..........நிற்க! அவள் நண்பனின் காதலி! :-)&lt;br /&gt;வர்ணணை முற்றிற்று!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;நண்பர்களுக்குக் காதல் வரிகள் தேடித்தருவதில் தான் எத்தனைப் பெருமை. இவர்களின் காதல் தான் எத்தனை புனிதம். அன்று தான் பாரதி காதல் கவிஞனாய் எனக்கு அறிமுகமானான்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(அதே) நண்பனின் (அதே)காதலி பள்ளி விழாவில் நடனமாட, ஒத்திகையின் போது யாரோ ஏதோ கொடுஞ்சொல் கூறியதன் பொருட்டு அழுது கொண்டே அன்று ஒத்திகை பார்த்ததும், அதை சிறிதும் பொருக்கவியலாத காதல் நெஞ்சன், என்னுயிர் நண்பன் மேடையின் கீழே நின்றுக் கண்ணீர் மல்க உறுகியதும், காலத்தால் அழியாத காவியம்.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;அருகிலிருந்த நான்&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"உன் கண்ணில் நீர் வழிந்தால் என் நெஞ்சில் உதிரம் கொட்டுதடி"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;என்று பாடி கண்ணடிக்க, இரண்டு மணி நேரம் அவன் அதையே உச்சறித்துக் கொண்டிருந்தது வேடிக்கை.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;மேடையில் ஒலித்துக் கொண்டிருந்த "செந்தமிழ் நாடெனும் போதினிலே!" எங்களுக்கு அந்நியமானது இயற்கை தானே? :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;இப்பொழுது பாரதியும் என் பக்கம். :-) நான் இயற்கையை பாடவில்லை என்று வருந்த யாருமில்லை. காதல் இயற்கை, காதல் மட்டுமே இயற்கை, மற்றவை அவற்றின் பிம்பம். காதலின்றி நிலவு கசக்கும், வானம் கருக்கும், மழை எரிக்கும், மலர்கள் ??? பயனிழக்கும். சரிதானே? ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;தொடர்வேன்!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/05/1.html"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-2815261055557378726?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/2815261055557378726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=2815261055557378726' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2815261055557378726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/2815261055557378726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/07/2.html' title='தமிழுக்கு வந்தத் தலைவலி - பாகம் 2'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-7016288196094842945</id><published>2009-06-26T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T11:53:08.889-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guest Post'/><title type='text'>Guest Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"&gt;Hi! I am Harini, Seshu's sort of second cousin and i love writing. So when he asked me if i could put up a guest post in his blog, i jumped at the chance. Here it is! Its called GARBAGE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sat in his usual corner, lost in thought, what ran in his mind, she had no idea. It had to be about the various problems that they plagued him with. "I wonder how he manages all this. Must be really difficult to be someone so important. He has so much to do and so little time to live. Poor thing" She thought to herself as she finished cleaning his room and went to another. She saw the waiter taking out an untouched meal and wondered when and what he ate. All the plates that he ordered went back to the kitchen or to the dustbin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working in a hotel had its advantages. She got to see a lot of famous people often and they really tipped her well. She really preferred it to houses where there were too many people and too much of work. The pay was much better here. She was like another part of the background, like the TV or the fridge in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy in room 204 had taken it up almost a month ago. He paid the high rent and stayed there cooped up within it not coming out except to buy something once a day. She guessed what it might be. Afterall, she cleared their garbage everyday. A syringe once a week can be attributed to a medicines or the visit of a doctor. But a syringe everyday told a different story,. She was used to the going on of the rich and the unhappy. Sorrow was something all classes could identify and sympathise with, without any introduction.Such a young man too. He had his future in front of him and here he was locking himself up and wasting it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Room 257, now that was a different story. A week here with his very beautiful wife and there he was sitting and sulking all the time. Poor thing. She must have a tough time living with an ugly bloke like him. The way he carried himself and screamed at her for everything. Will all the expensive jewelry she wore compensate for that? Mascara can hide black eyes and enough carefully applied make up can mask her scars.The garbage was filled with wet tissues and blood stained wads of cotton.It saddened her to see it. But how did anything she feel matter? It was all a matter of choice and people made such strange choices sometimes. She thought of her dead husband. Sometimes, she wished he was alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, the toughest room to clean had been 351. There was a family staying there for their vacation. The chocolate stains on the floor were so difficult to remove. The brats seemed to attract and hoard insects of all sorts. The anaemic mother looked like she could very well do with some rest. The father spent all his time transacting deals on the phone. Soft drink cans, Chocolate wrappers, Lays chips packets,Biscuit tins told her the story of their food habits. Her children had never even had a piece of these things which these kids seemed to consume by the dozen all day.There they were whining again wanting more. They were sick in bed today because of a tummy ache and they still wanted more food!She was surprised&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her final room for the day. She always did it last the past week as the owners were asleep all morning. She wondered why they came to such a beautiful place for a vacation. All they did was hang around in the room surrounding themselves with luxuries of all sort, sitting glued to the television watching updates. The girl ate and vomitted everything she did as she wanted to remain thin. There was some fancy name for this disease, the cook had told her. The empty medicine sashets in the garbage bin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"&gt;were disposed off too easily&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;" class="im"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;Her day done, she went to wait in the bus stand for her bus. She saw a packet of lays in the shop nearby. Little Minnie's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;voice echoed in her head. "Amma, I saw the anna in the poster with a big packet in his hand." She did not ask her for it. But the longing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;in her voice conveyed enough.Her inability to give them three meals a day told much more than what a few words could and she &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;had very practical children. She went up to the shop and got a packet of the chips. "Let her feel nice atleast for a day" she &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;told herself and walked the three kilometres home to be greeted by a weeping daughter. "Priya is dead amma. They said she had died &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;as she dint have anything to eat." The lays packet lay unnoticed in the room. She hugged her daughter unable to console &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;her.Somehow the image of the children who lay moaning in pain from over eating wouldnt disappear from her eyes. "She will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;forget her soon enough. Then everything will be fine. Nothing lasts forever. Not even this pain." She told herself. Afterall,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;a 25 year old widow of an early marriage knows best.In the home of the cleaning woman, there was nothing to&lt;/span&gt; clean.They did not have anything to throw away. Their garbage had only the tale of poverty to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;div class="im"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who want to read more of what i write, i can be reached &lt;a href="http://dreamsgoon.blogspot.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;: http://dreamsgoon.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-7016288196094842945?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/7016288196094842945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=7016288196094842945' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7016288196094842945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7016288196094842945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/06/guest-post.html' title='Guest Post'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-6409934997968701313</id><published>2009-05-06T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T18:49:22.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>தமிழுக்கு வந்த தலைவலி! - பாகம் 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"ஆங்கிலத்துக்கு நிகரான தமிழ் சொற்கள் அறிய இங்கு எழுதுங்கள்"&lt;br /&gt;என்று அறிவிக்கின்றது மொழிபெயர்ப்பு இணையதளம்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;.ஆங்கில தட்டுப்பலகை தமிழருவியின் பாய்ச்சலை கொஞ்சம் கட்டுப்படுத்ததான் செய்கிறது. எழுத நினத்த தருணங்களெல்லாம் தமிழ் தட்டிப் பழகாத விரல்களின் வலியை எண்ணி வீணாய் கழிகின்றது! சில நேரங்களில் எழுதுபொருள் தரும் உந்துதல் தமிழ் பதிவு படைக்க உதவுகிறது. சிவகாமியின் சபதம் பற்றிய எனது கருத்துரை தமிழில் ஏன் இல்லை என்று கேட்டோருக்கான விடை கூட இதுதான். எனக்கு ஓரளவு ஆங்கிலம் தெரிந்திருப்பது தீதோ நன்றோ? தெரியாது.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;இந்தப் பதிவை தமிழில் புனைவதற்கான உந்துதல் எனது கவிதைகள். இன்றளவும் எனக்கு படித்தவரோடும் பண்பட்டவரோடும் கலந்துரையாடும் வாய்ப்பினைப் பெற்றுத் தருபவை அவைகள் தாம். &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;எனது கவிதை அனுபவங்களைப் பற்றிய இந்தப் பதிவினை பல பாகங்களாக எழுத எத்தனித்துள்ளேன். எனது வாழ்வின் ஸ்வாரஸ்யமுள்ள பல சம்பவங்களோடு எனது கவிதைகளுக்கு நெருங்கிய தொடர்பு உண்டு. ஒன்பதாம் வகுப்பின் ஒரு நவம்பர் மாதத்து மேகம் மூடிய மாலைப் பொழுதின் கடைசி பாடவேளையை தவிற்க அன்று நடந்த தமிழ் கவிதை போட்டிக்கு, இலக்கணம் அறியாத, கவிதை வாஸம் சிறுதுமில்லாத ஒரு ஞானஸூன்யமாகிய நான் சென்றது கடுங்குற்றமென்றால் அந்த ஆண்டின் மேநிலைப் பிரிவின் தலைசிறந்த கவிஞனாக என்னை தேர்ந்தெடுத்து அறிவித்தது எனது பள்ளி செய்த பெருங்குற்றம். அந்த பாவத்தின் பலனைத் தான் இன்றும் எனது தோழர்களும், தோழியரும், பெற்றவரும், கற்றவரும் பின் மற்றவரும் அனுபவித்துக் கொண்டிருக்கிறார்கள்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;"இந்தக் காதல விட்டொழிக்கவே மாட்டியா?" பெரும்பாலான எனது கவிதைகளை படித்து விட்டு பெரும்பாலான ஆர்வலர்கள் அடிக்கடி எழுப்பும் கேள்வி. முயற்சி பண்றேங்க... என்று நான் சொல்வது எப்போதாவது தான் மெய்படுகிறது. அதன் பின் ஒரு பெருங்கதை உண்டென்பது சிலருக்கேத் தெரியும்.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"நீலவான ஆடைக்குள் உடல் மறைத்து&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;நிலவென்று காட்டுகின்றாய் ஒளிமுகத்தை&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;கோலம் முழுதும் காட்டிவிட்டால் &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;காதல் கொள்ளயிலே இவ்வுலகம் சாமோ?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;என்ற &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;பாரதிதாசனின்&lt;/span&gt; பாடல் நிலவை என்றும் காதலோடும் காதலியோடும் ஒப்பிடவே எனக்கு கற்றுக் கொடுத்திருந்தது. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"என்னருமைக் காதலிக்கு நீ இளையவளா இல்லை மூத்தவளா?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;என்று நிலாவை வம்புக்கிழுத்த &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;கண்ணதாசனும்&lt;/span&gt; என் இந்த போக்குக்கு உடந்தை.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;என்னிடம் இயற்கையை பற்றிய ஒரு கவிதையைப் பெற்று விட எண்ணி, ஒன்றும் பிடிபடாமல், நிலவை வெகு நேரம் உற்று நோக்கிய பொழுது, பக்கத்தில் திடீரென்று தோன்றியது ஒரு அழகிய பெண்ணின் உருவம். அந்த கற்பனை பிம்பத்திடம் தான் இன்று கவிதை சொல்லியாக வேண்டும். &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;"அதோ பார் கண்ணே.. இன்னுமோர் சந்திரோதயம்!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;கொடுத்து வைத்த பூமிக்கு இன்று இரட்டை பௌர்ணமி"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;என்று தோன்றிய இரண்டு வரிகள் நான் திருத்த முடியாத ஜன்மம் என்பதை ஒரக்க அறிவிப்பதாகத் தோன்றியது. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ஏன் இந்தக் கடிவாளம் கட்டிய குருகிய சிந்தனை..?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;அடுத்தப் பதிவில்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;              &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-6409934997968701313?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/6409934997968701313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=6409934997968701313' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6409934997968701313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6409934997968701313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/05/1.html' title='தமிழுக்கு வந்த தலைவலி! - பாகம் 1'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-5287239646841331298</id><published>2009-04-23T00:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T18:46:03.367-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>வடகிழக்குப் பருவ மழை!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;காவிரி கரை தொடு&lt;br /&gt;கொள்ளிடம் கட...&lt;br /&gt;தஞ்சை பெருவயல் நன்செய் தங்கிடு&lt;br /&gt;நெல் மணி குவி.. கன்னல் விளை!&lt;br /&gt;கொள்முதலாளியின் கைப்பை கனக்கும்&lt;br /&gt;மந்திரிமார்களின் நிலவறை சிரிக்கும்!&lt;br /&gt;பெருமிதம் கொள் - அதன்முன்&lt;br /&gt;பேதமைக் கொல்!&lt;br /&gt;ஆக்கியவன் உலைக்கே சோறு இல்லையாம்...&lt;br /&gt;அவன் சிசுவின் வயிற்றை நீராய் நிரப்பு!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-5287239646841331298?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/5287239646841331298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=5287239646841331298' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/5287239646841331298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/5287239646841331298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_23.html' title='வடகிழக்குப் பருவ மழை!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-4569766805773012511</id><published>2009-04-19T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T00:28:50.357-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experinces'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>The 20$ Bill</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A Christmas eve in New York city should be exciting. Time square probably is the brightest junction in the world. Then that World’s tallest Christmas tree at rock feller? Another important place to pose in front of. I shall meet my best friend after a gap of 8 long months since I left India. That makes this trip all the more special.  I shall go with him to the World’s most powerful capital, The Washington DC. I am going to be happy for the next 4 days. My heart was pounding with excitement as I waited at the Appleton airport for my flight to arrive at the gates. My excitement quickly changed into perturbation when the speaker announced a delay in flight due to pilot problems. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I have to reach New Jersey tonight. I was determined. The connecting flight at Detroit should be delayed too. I prayed. All my prayers went in vain. The last flight to New Jersey has already departed from Detroit. I waited in the long queue patiently for hours, explaining the situation to my friend on phone. I was provided a hotel room to stay for the night and got my flight tickets booked early in the morning to reach the La Guardia airport in New York. An overnight delay might mess up with the tour plan I thought. It will be almost afternoon when I reach there. And I have already missed the fun of Christmas eve. It ached.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;After resolving an issue that my fellow passenger (a colleague) had, I reached the hotel room post midnight. The day broke and I was ready to get into the first shuttle to the airport. Wishing a merry Christmas to all the unknown faces in the hotel reception, with a warm smile, I got into the shuttle. Walk, walk and walk miles inside the Detroit airport and finally I was there at the terminal. A window seat should be mind blowing I thought. I can capture a few aerial photographs of the New York city. As the flight lands, I shall have the beautiful sky scrappers trapped in my eye piece. Fortunately it was one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A charming cute child with a pink hat and coolers came dancing through the walk way of plane with her mother swiftly following up. As I looked into her eyes, I could see the innocence, anxiety, happiness and excitement. She is in all smiles. Should be 4 years old. Within minutes I understood that she will be my neighbor for the next 2 hours. Her activities bought in a great deal of nostalgia. I remembered how I used to crave for vacations and long hours journey. Meeting my cousins and going around places. Those were the best days of my life I thought. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Now there is a dilemma. I know how I used to fight for the window seat during my childhood. Why Childhood? I still do :-). The child in us is still awake. Even a while ago I was thinking about it. But now, a 4 year old will be happier to be there I thought. Even for me it’s the first time. I want to enjoy the beauty of the cities underneath as the flight flows through the sky. Should I still give it to her. She never asked for it but still, she would love it. I know. I could see that in her eyes. Finally I made up my mind. I am giving it to her this time. I can probably capture the sky scrappers from the ground and of course there is always this another time. But will I ever get a glimpse of that child’s beautiful smile again in my life time?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I started talking to her. She should be from Iraq, Arabia or may be India. The traditional Muslim costume that her mother wore indicated. I asked her to take the window seat and I got back what I expected. A million dollar smile :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;She was so happy. That made me happier. I was talking to her mom too who was in her late thirties. Seemed to be a nice women. She was talking about my profession and my reason for traveling. About my family for sometime and then my education. I came to know that they belong to  Punjab but have got settled in United states a few years ago. All the while the child was enjoying her window view. I realized the pleasure of sacrifice. As the drinks and snacks came in, I took the responsibility of helping the child drink and eat those. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;After a nap, I again woke up to see her enlightened face. The flight was about to land. The following conversation took place between me and the child’s mom Ms. McSuda when she unexpectedly pulled out a 20$ bill from her wallet and gifted it to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;McSuda: Please have this as my gift&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Me: Not at all! Please… but Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;McSuda: When you go back to India get something for your mom with this money&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Me: No aunty.. I won’t take this. I shall convey your regards to her. That should do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;McSuda: Son! Listen to me… I know you are earning a lot probably more than we do. I know you are capable of getting your mom the best of things that are around. I am not giving this to you , because you don’t have it but I wanted to gift a mother who should be proud and happy to have yielded such a nice boy…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It’s a great thing to be a mother. You will not understand. :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Me: speechless!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;She just smiled and requested me to take it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I again objected. I told her, I just need her blessings and nothing else. She forced the 20$ note into my palm and wished me a long life and a successful career. I thanked her. That was my first ever Christmas gift. A Muslim presenting a Christmas gift to a Hindu on an auspicious day. I thought, above caste, creed, culture and religion, affection and humanity prevails. That Thursday was no less than the best days of my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The flight landed. The child departed happily waving her hands at me and I waved back with a gratified, peaceful and ecstatic heart. I still hold the 20$ note safe in my wallet and I shall gift my mom with something bought out of this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;True! If at all I am a little good, I owe it all to my parents. When I spoke to my mom, she was puzzled initially but when I explained, she just told I am good. I don’t know what made McSuda think that she should gift my mom. Probably it’s between mothers which I don‘t understand. :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I then reached my friends place and we had an excellent and tiring trip. It was fun. The capital house, white house, Washington monument, time square, the wall street, Brooklyn bridge, the empire state and the statue of liberty. And much more of this kind. But undoubtedly the 20$ bill still remained the best. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;PS: The New York trip was an interesting one and had many awakening, comical, frustrating and tiring  incidents. I shall write about those sometime. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-4569766805773012511?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/4569766805773012511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=4569766805773012511' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/4569766805773012511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/4569766805773012511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/04/20-bill.html' title='The 20$ Bill'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-1924398237614238024</id><published>2009-04-17T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T15:20:08.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>காத்திருந்த காதல்!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/Sej-G56Y2II/AAAAAAAAACI/jy4_o3I_QBQ/s1600-h/matrimony1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 196px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/Sej-G56Y2II/AAAAAAAAACI/jy4_o3I_QBQ/s320/matrimony1.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325785953944000642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;மதம் ஜாதி ஜாதகம் கோத்திரம் இத்தனைக்கும் தாரைவார்த்த பின்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;சேர்த்து வைத்திருக்கிறேன்...உனக்கென கொஞ்சம் காதல்!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;வெகு ஜலப் பிரவாகம் உனது முத்தம்...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;அந்த ஊற்றில் பெருக்கெடுத்த பேராழி போல் என் காதல் இன்று...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;மறுப்பதற்கில்லை கண்ணே!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;சம்ஸாரம் சாகரம்!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Users/Seshadri/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Users/Seshadri/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-1924398237614238024?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/1924398237614238024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=1924398237614238024' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/1924398237614238024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/1924398237614238024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html' title='காத்திருந்த காதல்!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/Sej-G56Y2II/AAAAAAAAACI/jy4_o3I_QBQ/s72-c/matrimony1.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-5577318542349633954</id><published>2009-02-26T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T00:02:20.485-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>The A^2 Syndrome - A Post to honor a great friend!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Crazy are the thoughts sometimes! Crazier the dreams are…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I meet my childhood friends, colleagues, well wishers, parents and relatives every night, one or many together at a time under incomprehensible circumstances only waking up in the morning to realize that it was but a dream. Sometimes it’s a total bizarre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Even when conscious, I recall the golden days of my career  life quite often to cherish the sweetest of happenings that are only a history now. The thoughts make me laugh, cry, emote, dance and sing but only within me. Probably I am totally jobless these days and hence giving too much to the past. I decided to introspect. Let me not discuss the results of self introspection here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I deeply felt that one such retrospection should be written about. Before leaving India I went through a relatively tougher phase in my career. Nothing was working the right way for me. After a profound analysis I found that it’s “Time’s” time to play a spoil sport and I can do nothing about it J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Relationships have always been dangling in my case. I always believed that college is the ultimate place for a  loyal, affectionate friendship and there is no such thing beyond that. Though many of my colleagues have proved me wrong by now, this one person was amazing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;She was known to me by name for few weeks then, by person a few days ago and she was there near me to listen to me and support me during my turbulent times right away. I neither requested her nor expected it from her. I thanked her for being so generous and she just smiled. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I don’t know. I keep my pathos to myself when I am dejected. I crib sometimes but it’s rare. There are 2 reasons. Cribbing doesn’t help. I don’t trust people easily. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;But she looked deep into my eyes when I spoke to her. I could see honesty and empathy in her eyes. For hours I would talk about my plans and activities and hindrances and she would listen so sincerely and affectionately. It took a while for me to realize that I was self -centered and stole a lot of her time. She never complained. One morning, during a coffee break, I casually asked her why would she be so kind to me. Her reply was spontaneous.” What’s so important than spending some time to listen to a friend?”. Mine was a boring melancholy. I know. She told it never was. She told she could feel the agony, the anxiety, the passion  and the pain. I was dumbstruck. She is a friend! A true friend for life …I told myself… My instincts are usually right.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I talk to her about my everyday activities so consistently and seek her advice on important things I do. She is still generous to lend her ears to me though she is working assiduously on her tasks. She proved me what difference, a friend can make to one’s life. Even an arrogant, level headed and emotionally balanced person crave for a friend to paddle out of trouble. I found one in her. It’s her character to help and support people. How noble? Am I not gifted? :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I have a bunch of treasure in the form of friends and she is a precious stone in the lot who would stay close to my heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"There is blessing in disguise when you undergo tougher times". You ascertain your friends and others hands down. I now realize how true this adage is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;PS: The title is still relevant to the post but not obvious. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-5577318542349633954?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/5577318542349633954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=5577318542349633954' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/5577318542349633954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/5577318542349633954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/02/a2-syndrome-post-to-honor-great-friend.html' title='The A^2 Syndrome - A Post to honor a great friend!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-7443019018983189469</id><published>2009-02-21T23:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T21:37:41.247-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Creation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fiction'/><title type='text'>உக்ரோதயம்</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;அத்தியாயம் 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;கிழக்கு கடற்கரை&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;கிழக்கு கடற்கரையின் பொன் மணற்பரப்பைப் பூரண சந்திரன் தனது வெள்ளிக் கிரணங்ளால் மிளிரச்செய்து கொண்டிருந்த மகோன்னதக் காட்சி கலையுணர்வென்பதே கிஞ்சித்தும் இல்லாத மூடனைக்கூட ஒரு கணம் கவிஞனனாய் மாற்றக் கூடியச் செழுமையை பெற்றிருந்தது! அடிவானில் முழுமதி உதயமான மருகணமே அவளின் கவின் கொஞ்சும் வதனத்தை தொட்டு விடலாம் என்ற இருமாப்பில் வழக்கத்தை விடவும் அதிகமாய் எழும்பி ஏமாற்றம் அடைந்த அலைகள் "ஓ!" என்ற இரைச்சலுடன் ஆற்பரித்து கொண்டிருந்தக் காட்சி மானிட வாழ்வின் எண்ண ஓட்டங்களை பல கோணங்கலில் பிரதிபலிப்பதாய் இருந்தது! சித்திரை மாதத்தின் தெளிந்த வான்வெளியில் மின்னிக் கொண்டிருந்த தாரகைகள் அந்தக் கடலலைகளைக் கண்டு நகைப்பதுப் போன்றேத் தோன்றிற்று! ஒருவேளை அவைகள் வெகு தொலைவில் இருந்ததனால் நமக்கு அந்தச் சிரிப்பொலி கேட்கவில்லை போலும்! இளவேனில் வெப்பத்துக்கு அருமருந்தாக அமைந்தது ஜில்லென்று வீசிக்கொண்டிருந்த சமுத்திரக் காற்று! கடற்கரைக்கு சற்று தொலைவில் இருந்த நெடிதுயர்ந்த சவுக்குத் தோப்புக்குள் ஊடுருவிச் சென்று அந்தக் காற்று கடலலைகளுக்கு போட்டியாக மற்றொரு ஓம்காரத்தை எழுப்பிக் கொண்டிருந்தது!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;இந்த ஓவியக் காட்சியில் சிறுதும் லயிக்காது அந்த ஜனசஞ்சாரமற்ற இடத்தில் ஆழ்ந்த சிந்தனையில் மனதை நிலைக்க விட்டிருந்த அந்த இளைஞன் சொல்லவொண்ணா வேதனை அடைந்திருக்கிறான் என்பது அவன் முகத்தை பார்த்தால் ஐயமற விளங்கும். ஞாயிற்றின் ஒளியை தேக்கி வைத்திருந்த அந்த விழிகளை கூட ஏதோ ஒரு துன்பம் மேகம் போல் மூடி மங்கச் செய்திருந்த போதிலும் பார்வயில் தொனித்த கம்பீரம் சிறிதும் குறையாது, நெஞ்சுறுதியையும் நம்பிக்கையையும்  எடுதுக்காட்டுவதாய் அமைந்திருந்தது.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;இரவு நன்றாக ஏறிவிட்டதை அடுத்து மதுமதி உச்சி வானை அடைந்திருந்தாள். தொலைவில் தோப்புக்குள் ஊளையிடும் நரிகளும், மெதுவாய்  ஸப்திக்காரம்பித்த ஸர்பங்களும் அந்த கடல் ப்ராந்தியததை ஆபத்தான களமாக அறிவிக்க முயற்ச்சி செய்துகொண்டிருந்தன! துணையின்றி அவ்விடம் நெடுநேரம் படுதிருந்த அந்த யொவன புருஷன் பெரும் ப்ராக்ரமசாலியாகத் தான் இருத்தல் வேண்டும். அச்சம் என்பதே எள்ளளவும் அறியாத குடியில் தோன்றியவனாய் இருத்தல் வேண்டும்!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;காட்டாற்று வெள்ளம் போன்று உள்ளத்தில் பொங்கிய எண்ண அலைகளால் தனக்கு பின்னால் தன்னை ஓசையின்றி சூழ்ந்து கொண்டிருந்த ஆபத்தை கவனிக்கத் தவரியவன், மெல்ல எழுந்தமர்ந்து திரைக்கடலை நோக்கினான்!திடீரென்று ஏதோ அறியப்பெற்றவனாய் விடுக்கென்று எழுந்து சவுக்குத் தோப்பை நோக்கி நடக்கலானான். அவன் நடை போடத்தொடங்கிய மறுகணமே சவுக்குக் கிளைகள் பரபரப்படைந்தன. நரிகளின் ஓலத்தோடு மனிதர்களின் ஓசையும் மெல்லியக் காற்றில் கேட்க ஆரம்பித்தது. இத்தனைக்கும் அந்த வாலிபனுக்கு மட்டும் எதுவுமே செவியில் ஏறவில்லை போலும். தனது நடையை துரிதப் படுத்தினான்.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;இந்த ஒரு தனிமனிதனை அந்த நள்ளிறவில் என்ன ஆபத்து சூழ நேரிடும்? ஒருவேளை கொள்ளையர்களாய் இருக்கலாம்.ஆனால் கொள்ளையற்க்கு ஆபரணம் தரிக்காத ஆண்மகனிடம் என்ன வேலை? ஒரு வேளை கொலைகாரர்களாய் கூட இருக்கலாம். ஒரு அப்பாவி இளைஞனை அந்த நடுநிசியில் மறைவில் காத்திருந்து கொலை செய்வதில் அவசியம் என்ன இருக்கிறது?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ஆனால் அந்த இளைஞன் ஒரு சாதாரண ப்ரஜையாய் அல்லாமல்,  அஸ்வத்தாமன் வழி வந்த பல்லவ குலத் தோன்றலான அவனிசிம்மன் என்னும் பட்சத்தில் அந்த அவசியம் ஏற்படுகிறதல்லவா?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;... தொடரும்&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-7443019018983189469?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/7443019018983189469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=7443019018983189469' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7443019018983189469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7443019018983189469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/02/1.html' title='உக்ரோதயம்'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-863057947929290535</id><published>2009-01-24T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T18:33:35.348-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I shall Blog!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/SXvPSQzm9WI/AAAAAAAAABI/85ezU0hvD8c/s1600-h/wake+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295053699560174946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 177px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/SXvPSQzm9WI/AAAAAAAAABI/85ezU0hvD8c/s320/wake+up.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It had been a while since I blogged. I am jealous of my fellow bloggers who blog quite consistently, interestingly and meticulously. I had been through few creative posts on net and most of them are inspiring. Short stories, history, scientific facts, interesting trivia, news updates, life updates, poems…. Wow!&lt;br /&gt;Every time I come across a creative post, I would tell to myself… “I am blogging tonight”. There will be a topic that I would have zeroed on.&lt;br /&gt;When I reach home in the evening, Srikkanth(my friend and head of my Appleton household) would be there already mostly. If it’s one of the early days of the week, Chinmayi would be screaming at the top of her voice “இது தமிழகத்தின் மிக ப்ரம்மாண்டமான குரல் தேடல்!”. As soon as I remove my shoes, “Renu செரியாப் பாடல!” he would say. “Oh! என்ன பாட்டு?”. This is me!&lt;br /&gt;I will assure myself that she will not be rejected as she is the greatest voice of the show. I will mostly sit with him to watch the rest of the program.&lt;br /&gt;Towards the end of the program, my eyes would beg for rest, as I would have slept only 4 or 5 hours the previous night. I don’t have work @ home these days. I am usually idle in the evenings. But I sleep very late, after compensating for the lost sleep back log from the previous night, waking up late to cook late while talking to my offshore folks and to finish my dinner late only again to sleep late. Lately this has been my routine. I talk to my mom on the camera late nights and on phone late mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By then I would have totally forgot the topic I've decided upon. Rather I desperately forget it in order to keep me away from typing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following contents were partially composed and remain dormant in the blog memory space of my brain…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Sandilyan’s Raja muthirai&lt;br /&gt;2) Kemo’s farewell&lt;br /&gt;3) My old poems&lt;br /&gt;4) The Lankan -Tamil war and the fall of de-facto capital Kilinochi&lt;br /&gt;5) Washington trip (Actually supposed to be a trip to New York) :-)&lt;br /&gt;6) A quick recap of 2008&lt;br /&gt;7) the A^2 syndrome (A commitment that has to be kept up)&lt;br /&gt;8) Childhood memories&lt;br /&gt;9) Three years of Cognizance&lt;br /&gt;10) Legendary compositions of Isaignani Ilayaraja&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11) From Kanchipuram to Appleton&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting a topic everyday. But I don’t write! Laziness is killing the creator in me. I have decided to fix my routine this weekend. Things should start working quickly hopefully and I should take up full fledged writing whether or not I have followers to go through them :-)&lt;br /&gt;You will see the above mentioned topics revised, revisited, prioritized and written about, in days to come. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-863057947929290535?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/863057947929290535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=863057947929290535' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/863057947929290535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/863057947929290535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-shall-blog.html' title='I shall Blog!'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/SXvPSQzm9WI/AAAAAAAAABI/85ezU0hvD8c/s72-c/wake+up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-3759633604578456702</id><published>2008-12-05T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T20:55:39.902-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Novel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Stirring up the Hornet's Nest - 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Finally I prevailed over my laziness to continue my Blog on SS…&lt;br /&gt;With a lot being said in my previous blog, I’ve decided to hit the bull’s eye right away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why is Sivakami less impressive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;She is an ace Bharathanatyam dancer in the pallava kingdom. She is the most beautiful women. She is adored by the people of her country for her ability to tie them up with her Abhinayams. More than everything, she is the lady love of prince Narasimhavarman alias Mamallan. As per kalki, she is the primary reason behind the battle of Badami. With all that being said, she is obviously the heroine of the story as the title indicates. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Yet, to me, she is not impressive. She is very unstable. Probably that’s the way the character has to be… to trigger all those events that followed up. She is not so wise. Short tempered.. Emotionally wobbling… At no point in the novel she has completely trusted the prince of the land.&lt;br /&gt;She feels insecure throughout the story. It’s an understandable behavior during the initial stages of the story as she is too young but even during the climax of the story she is precarious. By then she should have got matured.&lt;br /&gt;I never felt empathetic towards this character during my journey across the pages. The romance between her and Mamallan is another disaster. It wasn’t cute anywhere. Yes! A romance portrayed without trust is definitely a disaster. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Narasimhavarman - A sore loser?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;For people who don’t know what kind of a person Narasimhavarman is, there wouldn’t be a problem in accepting his characterization. Projected as a short tempered, less decisive, ruthless, stupid romantic hero who is even ready to let go his country and it’s people for a woman, the character fails to captivate me. Especially when he yells @ Paranjothi in the climax I hated the characterization to the core.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Now let me tell you who the real Narasimhavarman is….One of the greatest warrior that Bharat has ever seen. One of those 6 notable kings who never lost on the battle field. The ruler who got rid of religious savages called Kabalihaas in thamizhagam.&lt;br /&gt;Being a great architect, he is a sculptor himself. The architectural epitomes on the shore of Mamallapuram still echo this ruler's name. Above all, he is a great war strategist and administrator. A smart, alluring, caring ruler he is. Adored as the greatest emperor of Pallava dynasty, his era is referred to as the golden age of Pallava Rule. The Mei Kirthis written during his period and later reveal all these. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But I should sincerely thank Kalki for projecting King Mahendravarman as such, without ruining his glory for the sake of a love saga. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Amidst imperfect characterization, the narration never induces a feel that the lovers should unite. It failed to create the anxiety and curiousness amongst readers in this regard. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There are logical questions too…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Why would Sivakami believe in Naganandhi till the climax? After all she knew from the Chakravarthi himself that he attempted to kill Mamallan, her love interest. She also understood that the deceptive Buddhist monk is in love with her and he does anything to win her hand. (indulging in cruel acts throughout)&lt;br /&gt;Probably Sivakami didn’t believe in Mahendra as he was against her love for Mamallan. Also she had a soft corner for Naganandhi as he saved her father when they were caught by the Chalukyan soldiers. Fine! Didn’t she believe in the most trusted and eminent spy Gundodharan too?&lt;br /&gt;Even before the climax, Naganandhi tells her that he would return as a king from Ajanta to marry her. Her reaction here is hilarious. Projected as a bold girl who saved innocent women from Pulikesi, a daring girl who sang and danced for a song written criticizing the Chakravarthi, in his very presence, she didn’t even react to the word of the monk when he proposed her despite knowing her affair with Mamallan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably she is now numb and dejected. After all it’s nine years since she had been in the royal Vathabi prison. Yet not convincing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Why didn’t Naganadhi reveal that Mamallan is already married? It gives him a chance to induce hatred towards Mamallan in Sivakami’s heart. Later he could’ve won her heart displaying his loyalty.&lt;br /&gt;Probably he thought it would trigger Sivakami to pursue life menacing acts. Again not so convincing. The all powerful Budhist monk can easily safeguard Sivakami from such acts.&lt;br /&gt;The climax was so dramatic with the unnecessary deaths of the royal chariot rider Kannabiran and royal spy Gundodharan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Also throughout the story Kalki couldn’t maintain the suspense as it was with PS. On the very introduction of VajraBahu the readers could easily predict that he is none other than the Chakravarthi himself. There are many more such instances. And again the revelation of Vajrabahu as Chakravarthi comes at an insignificant point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Vathabi thaganam, which for me was the most expected part of the novel, the climax, Kalki couldn’t create the magical feel. Probabaly not much research went into the warfare and strategy when he wrote it. I should definitely give it to Sandilyan in this regard. He was just amazing in explaining the nuances of wars, arts, architecture and romance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To conclude:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;For those who have read Ponniyin selvan before SS, it would be a rank below. Undoubtedly SS remains one of the greatest novels of 20th century just for the effort, innovation and the narrative style. If you don’t get too much into history and accept Sivakami as a normal girl bounded and driven by feminine emotions, the story can be appreciated. Also shed all your respect for Mamallan. Look at him as Sivakami’s lover and Sivakami's lover only :-) You can digest the novel peacefully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;After all I’ve fallen in love for more than 1000 times now with Ms. Nandhini :-)&lt;br /&gt;I don’t even want to befriend Sivakami ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Kalki definitely is one of those great writers of all time. But for him SS is definitely not the Magnum opus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Probably for Kalki too, it’s just another book! :-)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But I recommend literary lovers to go through this novel and form their own perceptions. It’s definitely one of it’s kind and can be completely enjoyed for the narrative and style and few historical facts. All you have to do is shed your prejudice on Mamallan as a colossal emperor and Sivakami as Ms. Perfect beautiful before taking it up for a study. Enjoy reading SS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-3759633604578456702?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/3759633604578456702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=3759633604578456702' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/3759633604578456702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/3759633604578456702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2008/12/finally-i-prevailed-over-my-laziness-to.html' title='Stirring up the Hornet&apos;s Nest - 2'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-6332696144532689127</id><published>2008-11-27T22:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T20:57:08.867-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Novel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Stirring up the Hornet's nest - Kalki's Sivakamiyin Sabatham reviewed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It was 12:30 AM Tuesday night, when I finally made up my mind to go through Kalki’s so called Magnum opus Sivakamiyin Sabatham (SS). It’s tough to shed your prejudice on something when you actually get into it, especially when the person is highly opinionated. Trust me, with years of reading and my acquaintances with various authors and their books, I’ve practiced to give up my dogmatic approach towards books when I take them up for a study.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve asked myself a question more than 100 times so far!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Why did it take so long for me to grab and apprehend a great (?) work which is 40 years elder to me! Something that has spanned across 3 generations now but still remains the heart throb of Thamizh literary lovers. Something that my grandpa, grandma and dad have read more than 50 times. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is, the climax of the story is disconsolate :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I decided not talk anything more on SS until I complete the novel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Being first of it’s kind, Kalkiyin SS is a “Puthinam” that has a story built against true historical incidents. I’ve heard that it created waves when it was published as a serial in Thamizh weekly “Kalki” for the first time in 1944. From there on till date, it has been published for more than 10 times now in the same weekly owing to Vaasagar’s request and needless to say that it’s reception is overwhelming even today. It’s 50 years now! Mr. Kalki has become Amarar Kalki wherein his works stay young like “markandeyars” and induces the same quantum (in fact more) of excitement and enthusiasm in readers when they read them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Kalki’s Modus operandi is amazing. He takes us across various locations, various characters, various happenings here and there where everything ends in a secret knot. He further takes us down while we succumb to his style of writing, to our surprise the knot will be fastened at an unexpected juncture revealing the hidden truth. After a point we get addicted to his style of writing that we can never put the book down and the desire to know the secret behind the knots desperate us. I still wonder how people held their breath for a week before the next episode can be read, when it was first published.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;SS was no exception to his style of writing. It took me on and on and on for 3 days and this Saturday morning 4 AM I was done. To my disappointment, I realized that it didn’t captivate me to an extent the other puthinams of Kalki or other authors did. When I told this to my omniscient friends, they were surprised.&lt;br /&gt;Wait.. Let me explain! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;SS revolves around the incidents that happened during 7th century AD, in the southern and south central part of Bharath (it wasn’t India then). It has one of Bharath’s greatest kings Narasimhavarman I as the hero of the plot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The History:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Pulikesi was then the greatest Chalukyan ruler who even defeated the colossal Harshavardhana. Harsha ruled the northern part of Bharath from Kamboja. No wonder that his expedition to Kanchi was successful during the reign of Pallava ruler Mahendravarman I, father of Narasimhavarman I. Mahendra was very wise, highly qualified and a benevolent despot. Though Pulikesi’s expedition was successful and he besieged Kanchipuram (the capital of Pallavas), Kanchi never fell, as Mahendra was amazing in his war strategy and planning. A frustrated Pulikesi and his soldiers on their way back home, set fire to hundreds of villages in pallava kingdom, killed warriors and civilians, raped and kidnapped women, disabled elderly ones, artists and craftsmen.&lt;br /&gt;When Mahendra tried to fight this, he was mortally wounded in a battle at Manimangalam. Narasimhavarman I was crowned the ruler of Kanchi then in 632 AD. He prepared himself for 9 long years to fight the mighty Pulikesi and in 642 AD, he marched with an ocean of battalion towards Vathapi. He and his notable general Paranjothi, annihilated pulikesi’s army, killed him and set vathapi ablaze.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The plot:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Kalki introduced Sivakami as Narasimhavarman’s love interest. She was quoted an incredible dancer and the only daughter of a poor sculptor in Pallava kingdom. Pulikesi on his way back to Vathapi, kidnaps Sivakami. She takes a wow after reaching vathapi, that she will not step out of the Chalukyan capital, until Narasimha comes with his army to destruct pulikesi and his capital and liberate her. And king Narasimha does it finally. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The involvement of Pulikesi's twin brother Naganandhi, the deceptive Budhist monk in the proceedings makes him the villain. Both Sivakami and Naganandhi are fictional characters bought into life by Kalki and they never existed in history. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I have my reasons to be disappointed. For people who envisage Kalki as the best writer of 20th century it might be difficult to digest. After all we have Sandilyan, Aghilan, Balakumaran, Sujatha and so many quickly lining up to be addressed that way. For me SS was just another book.&lt;br /&gt;This blog is growing bigger … after all it’s not easy to fight a history that has created history. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I shall continue writing my views and rationale in my next blog session…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-6332696144532689127?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/6332696144532689127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=6332696144532689127' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6332696144532689127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/6332696144532689127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2008/11/stirring-up-hornets-nest-kalkis.html' title='Stirring up the Hornet&apos;s nest - Kalki&apos;s Sivakamiyin Sabatham reviewed'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8518483811183667806.post-7580815921559555310</id><published>2008-11-25T22:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T20:56:20.448-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>முதல் ப்ரதி</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;பொழுதினை கழித்திட இணையதளம் தேடி! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;பழியாய் மற்றவர் குணங்களைச் சாடி &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;பதிவாய் தந்திட இவ்விடம் நாடி &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;படையாய் வந்தோர் ஆயிரம் கோடி!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;பஞ்சம் பிழைக்கத் திரைகடல் ஓடி &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;பதிப்போர் குழுவில் புதிதாய் கூடி &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;பாமகள் பதங்களில் அணிமலர் சூடி&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;பணிந்தேத் தொழுவேன் பண்ணிசைப் பாடி!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8518483811183667806-7580815921559555310?l=vyakyanam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/feeds/7580815921559555310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8518483811183667806&amp;postID=7580815921559555310' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7580815921559555310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8518483811183667806/posts/default/7580815921559555310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vyakyanam.blogspot.com/2008/11/muthal-prathi.html' title='முதல் ப்ரதி'/><author><name>Seshadri T A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02745775899435857691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okL-wHqB6fc/S2pt3CjJ6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/Kgsdoz9UAXY/S220/Seshu4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
