chapter 5 books and my brother

and thus my stay at my mom's house adhava my mom's sister's place started.... and i was 13 years old. in my 8th standard. my sister in 12th so i was in my teens and my sis in tens.. i mean tension wid d demands of 12... i was having a great tym....i mean it was not as strict as my home in the case of studies and all and i started spotting a loot of changes in me. i started being selective about the movies i watch. earlier i use to watch any kinda movie. but i started being selective in this respect much to the surprise of myself!!! the next change was i started watching news... asianet news... everyday... my grandmother will come to my aunt's place everyday in the evening and watch news and i started joining her. and to my utter disbelif i started to take an interest in politics. the names of those people who were uptil then unimportant old people were becoming familiar(i mean the politicians) and then there were a looot of books around me... at home too i had a loooot of books and i was often criticised for not reading them... i use to read yes!!! but when someone asked me if i had read a particular book my answer was invariably no... and i felt bad when i had to say no... so i didnt love the books at home... it seemedf to shout at me !!! READ READ READ READ!!!! and i DIDNT read!!!


but these books were differnt.. all of them were my brother's... and surprisingly those books never screamed at me! nor did the brother...


he didnt know to tell a story but he did! i mean he said stories in a way it should not be told... parts and bit of it simply to amuse me and i liked those books in the shelf because stories from those amused me.... i use to get startled to hear him laughing out loud reading a book and many a times i have removed those specs from his face when he fell asleep with a book in his hand and i have often stared at those book which made him laugh out...was he pretendfing it.. definitely not...for later in my life ... i mean even now i read those same books and laugh out loud.... that was not pretention... that was the magic of Mr P G Wodehouse.... thus my bro and his books were beginning to have a great impact on me... his books beckoned me which the books in my shelf simply refuses to doeven now. that is why i started buying books and have a shelf separately....

thus the brother though very different from conventional brothers and strictly not what i would have liked to have as a brother changed my life, though he was and is unaware of it.

i started reading ... from enid blyton it started and it sprouted wings and it flew far and wide and all of these affected me a loot.. not as in teaching me one one moral or good thinking in me... what i mean is it literally affected me. i dreamt about it, day dreamed about it and i started thinking about my characters only... i lives there life at times, taking the role of the hero sometimes, villain at other times and re enacted the whole story, changed its shape structure plot and changed all there lives.

one day, not exactly day it was an evening... i was having a notebook in my hand, pretending to study by walking the length of the courtyard.. i found many stalks of the flower bunch of the teak in the yard... i bend down and pickked one and simply carried it in myone hand.(the other hand obviously had the notebook if u guys forgot about it as i did) my brother was sitting in the sit out reading something perhaps a news paper... he cast a look at me and laughed.. he always did so... laughter first and then the reason(this is anotgher stry will tell you).. i asked what!? whis was a majpor fight that went on between us.... he always laughed at anything and everuthiong i said or did... i would ask him what and he always said he will tell me after he is done with his laugh, which infuruated me on evey such occasion without fail......i often resort to physical abuse.... i hit him punched him and always mimiked the police style kicked though never actually did it!!! then he would give his reason which would obviously make me more angry if that is possible and will again make me hit him... so that is that story, will elaborate on it if i remember more of it...

so where was i?


Ah yes... i was walking with a notebook and the stalk of teak flower and my brother laughed at me.

i asked what.. he said ' you remind me of young ladies of Russian novels who are impatiently waiting for the lover'

though there was not much reason to get angry i got angry as it was the right thing to do i suppose.. and we set of talking about russian novels then novels, novels i have read and i strted speaking about the hero of a malayalam novel i had last read. the name of the novel is Mayyazhi puzhayude theerangalil (മയ്യഴി പുഴയുടെ തീരങ്ങളില്‍)by M Mukundan and the hero - dasan... he had been in my minds for some time now and it irritated me to think about his deeds.. th way he let go of his life... and so on and so forth... my brother was looking quiet serious and he was silent throughout my monologue... then he said 'thulsi you dont have to take everything into your heart.....' he went on..... but i did not listen... that one sentence struck me...that was exactly i was doing all the time, every day , every minute, every second and even that very moment... and i had realised it for the first tym... i was not living my life... i was drinking in ignorance of reality blissfully and living that life which was nobody's

chapter 4

all of us werein the 4 different corners of the world , parents got transfer to two different places and so we were NOT orphaned. we were entrusted with my aunt, my mom's sister a sweet cutie pie. she and my mom's parents live in the same compound and hence i say with my grandparents and aunt though it is two different houses. i could write pages and pages about my stay there. it was... lemme call it....eventful!!!!

so as i said i was left to live with my relations. that is a loony grandfather who disliked me as much as he disliked my mother (his own daughter) and i too disliked him as much as he disliked me!!!! but he was kind of nice.... i mean he is old and everything and didn't have a smooth life himself and people are bound to become so i suppose. then there was this grandmother who disliked gandhiji and thinks it was good he expired not because any personal revenge but because of her dislike for lower caste and she blames Gandhi for their upliftment today. but she was a very good sort and liked us a lot though i thought she liked us grand children in the order of our appearance into the world. that is my brother first(aunt's son) then my own sister and then me. she had to suffer a lot as a child and that made her tough i suppose... because in spite of all adverse conditions and situations i have never seen her cry except for once which surprised me a lot and left a great impact upon me.
then my aunt... as i said a cutie pie.....she liked us all a looot... everytime she came to our home ven we were children she used to get one one diary milk for my sis and me and for every b'day she gets me and my sis new dress... like for her b'day and for my b'day both of us got dress irrespective of whose b'day it is... she also gives handsome vishu kaineettam (വിഷു കൈനീട്ടം)
then there was my cousin, the brother i was talking about earlier. i don't remember what outlook i had about him when i went there coz he was one person for whom i never had a constant opinion for a looong time... so i dont remember... bu ti had nothing much against him and kind of liked him too i am sure...
and so all in all i knew i was going to enjoy my stay there...
did i suspect more than that was going to happen?
definitely not!!!

chapter 3

Once upon a time there lived a girl who had a friend...a close friend...a best friend...a bestest friend...how much she enjoyed the friendship she could never tell anyone...this bestest friend was her secret keeper and the friend trusted her with many things too. the bestest friend had absolute faith in her faith and that is why her friend asked her to do it... and she did it too... and the bestest friend believed it was all because of her faith...and she didnt know wat to believe....but bothof them were happy...

days went by and something happened which shouldnt have happened.........

the girl did not call her bestest friend and the bestest friend did not call her...the bestest friend did not meet her and the girl did not meet hte bestest friend... days went by...weeks went by... months and years went by...she didnt forget about her bestest friend but she thought of her bestest friend and she always felt a pang of pain whenver she thouight about her bestest friend...the bestest friend had become ex best friend...and she thought she didnt have a best friend...and then they saw, they met they talked...accidently...but somehting was not right...the girl hid behind her book...her bestest ex best friend hid behind a phone... it took so loong for her to realise how foolish she was...

then they talked

this tym der was no book or phone...they wondered wat had happened to them...the bestest friend called it ego, the girl didnt know wat to call it... the bestest friend requested her to do something...the girl had faith in her own faith by now...she did it happily but as the days went by as the need for the faith in faith was about to end she couldnt see ahead...history was repeating itself...this too shall pass!!!

Once upon a timwe there lived a girl who had a friend...a close friend...a best firnd...a bestest friend..

Yes ONCE UPON A TIME

chapter 2

when i surfed thru my old note books and diairies i found hundreds and hundreds of stories essays and my experiences recorded safely by my teenage self... i thought reproducing the same here would hepl my readers understand me...
chapter 2
After I read some stories of Ruskin Bond, he often writes about himself, I began to think that I am quiet like him. He says he is very absent minded and liked to dream. After I read the story ‘Upon the Wall, Dreaming’ I seemed to entertain no doubts regarding our likeness. In the story he says how he liked to sit on his wall and dream, both in his child hood and adulthood. I too dream a lot. Though I didn’t get a chance of sitting on my wall and dream like Bond, I do it whenever I get a chance to do it.

Anyways I couldn’t sit on our wall and dream owing to the fact that I am a fifteen year old girl (now) and also because I am a bit self conscious than Bond. I don’t want to think about what my neighbours will say if they see me sitting on a garden wall, dreaming. But when I have very comfortable beds and chairs, why should I take risks? Thus without neighbours prying on me, I could day dream peacefully inside my house. About what I think (let me skip the word ‘dream’ it make me feel I am doing something stupid) I think about a lot many things. I am a great fan of Harry Potter books. So that story takes much of my time. I sit or lie down and think about all the possibilities, try to work out all the clues Rowling has given (she always does) and wonder how the next book will be. She has written only till the fifth when I write this. I sometimes feel that I might have thought about the story more than Rowling herself.

Then I think aboutall the things that happened in my class or at school. I can remember all the funny things that ever happened in my class. I’ve an amazing memory for such things though if I have to derive a relation in physics or learn the functioning of our digestive system, my memory seem to be very poor indeed. It is not my fault, it cant be!!! I cant help it that’s all!!! Paulo Coelho, in his famous book ‘The Alchemist’ advise to follow your dreams. But I’ve not not yet had anything that’s worth following. What can I do but Wait and See!!!

i was delighted to see the confused me, as a teenager wondering where i will reach and what i will bbe!!! now when the road ahead is clear and i am confident as i stride through it i find it exceedingly interesting to go through it

chapter 1

Once upon a time there was a little girl who sat to watch TV and came across an old looking film which she liked because of a good song which was going on when she switched on the tv. She didn’t know the main actress, she didn’t know the name of the film, she didn’t know the director yet she grew so fond of the film that seeing the film on TV again after so long a time prompted her to write this piece.

She was born on 19th August, 1988 in saraswathi yamam. Babies born in this particular yamam are bound to be very good at studies, her parents naturally was very happy about their child with chubby cheeks, rosy lips and round eyes, unfortunately she didn’t have dimple chin or curly hair, but she was such a dear child that her parents did not mind this handicap!!!

And as she grew up she also heard the very popular tale of she being born in saraswathi yamam. She got very happy that she was very fortunate to have born in such a nice time and that she would be able to study well.

But she was an average student in school and never got beyond 5th rank… her sister was a good student and always class first and school first. But she was never worried about it. She went on like that 5th 8th 6th again 5th etc etc etc. she was a good dancer and she was well known in her school for her dancing capabilities and not academic galores. She was known all over the school… not only her, her sister as well. They were the stars of the school. But the little star changed her school and joined good shepherd….and so did her sister…and this changed her life!!! How? U will find it soon