Saturday, January 29, 2011
I never imagined working in a corporate world. Always I dreamed of running in search of 5 Ws and H. Still my passion for writing made me to choose this role of Social Media Executive. Communication through Skype, no much verbal communication; all these were new to me. But slowly I'd pick up the pace and style of work. Though I've not learned my job fully, I am enjoying this work.
Staying in a house (near railway track) that used to tremble when a train passes by, made me a little scared in my early days. For me in the beginning, city life was something new. In my village, all used to smile at each other. Here no one knows each other. I felt I'm an alien in this place. Still I found the city has not completely turned into a mechanical metro. However the advantage of working in a city especially for a female is that I don't have to restrict from getting out of my house after sunset.
By the way, I’m in Kozhikode (Calicut); a land known for its hospitality. Also this place is famous for Biriyani and Halwa. It is a city where Karnatic music and Ghazals are equally enjoyed. Here, both Baburaj and Muhammad Rafi are admired. Beaches and rivers make the city green. From this city I met a group of journalist who are very down to earth. Above all, it is the land where this village girl started her city life...
Sunday, January 23, 2011
“Hello, this is ladies seat… get up”, a lady shouted at a man in bus for sitting in seats reserved for ladies. It is sure that the same lady won’t shout at the same man when it is night. After 7pm, in Thrissur bus station, you will rarely see a woman alone without a man accompanying them. “Though it is called the cultural capital of Kerala, the people here are the most culture less” said a college girl from Thrissur. She also added ladies won’t get out of the house after sunset.
For city dwellers, it may sound awkward. But rural folk may well agree with all the situations above. Today females do all sorts of works that a male does; perhaps more. Starting from agriculture till entrepreneurship, ladies are in forefront. However rural ladies have to remain in closed doors when sun dims its light. They have to change into the role of a typical house wife when the male community of the household will be enjoying in the town.
The towns will be fully filled with men at night. They behave as if it is their kingdom. It can also be seen in another way. A fake sense of insecurity drives men. They imagine it is going to demolish their power and woman is going to rule them. Same is the reason what force them to oppose all the steps to empower womankind.
I and my friend Soumya planned to attend Peevees Model School’s annual day. I’ve to stay back at home for some unavoidable reasons. Thanks to local city channel, I’d watch the programs live. My brother, who attended the program, told me Peeveeites from all batches were there. I felt I really missed it out.
Peevees is a nostalgia. A melancholy, where words disappear making it so emotional to describe. I’m committed to that institution for all that I have achieved. It is my strength, power and weakness; a world of joy, happiness and understanding.
The Red castle seems to me like a fairytale. When I see a shot of that building made of red bricks or the school van, I get stuck. I’d been with Peevees when it was a hut. I was also there when it moved to the present ‘red fort’.
Even the teachers and students who left the school love to call themselves in the label of Peevees. All known faces left the institution, the royal uniform has changed; still it is the same playground that taught me how the world is!When my friend asked me whether I can recognize the face of performers, I simply replied, “I know no one. But I can proudly call them my siblings as we share the same family name PEEVEEITES”.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Together we learned how to walk… We grew up together caring each other. I love her nature and attitude. She says she admires my sense of humor a lot. Still she appears mysterious many times which always make me puzzled.
Though our wavelengths in character are different, we share a good chemistry. Many times we used to wonder, how we end up wearing same color dresses while attending functions. Even on her engagement day, we had outfits of similar shades.
On Sunday, she was holding my hand for the entire day saying, “Please stay with me. I’m little tensed to face the crowd in this role”. It had a similar tone of what she used to tell me when we were kids, “Never leave my hand. If you do, we both will be scared to walk all alone”…
(When her brother asked me to write about my cousin sister’s engagement function, I was really confused what to post on that. But he told me, “I’m sure you’ll get some snatches to scribble.”… Thanks brother for pressing me to write!)
Saturday, January 15, 2011
“I wish to be there. I wanted to analyze what is going on there.” says a correspondent of a local channel as soon as the Sabarimala stampede tragedy happened yesterday. It is not out of the sympathy for the victims. There was a journalistic tone in it. This question has always been alive; whether a media person should act as commentator or should help out the injured.
Even the minister was surprised because media couldn’t air live clippings from the spot. Thinking from a media perspective, it is so unfortunate that no channels or journals came out with live reports. But when seen from a commoner’s angle, at least in the later stages, the mass crowd of journalists simply stood there with their cameras instead of helping the injured.
After each incident, this question is raised and left unanswered. “When an incident happens, we’ll get extra work. That is tiresome. If nothing happens, it is boring too.” comments a cameraman. These words are not just of a single individual, but the whole media fraternity.
Now the viewers or readers are addicted seeing such stuff. Every company works for profit. Media is also a business firm. For any media, audience is their customer. If a product goes well, there is no need to withdraw it in the name of humanity if the majority of the population doesn’t count it as inhumane…!Again media cannot be simply called atrocious. It does the job of a mirror in society. Mirror shows your wound. Seeing that, you can further cure it by possible treatments. Similarly media reflects what is going on in society making people aware and alert. Further decisions have to be taken by the viewers; whether to react or remain silent.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
I believe whenever I note down, the purpose will be completed only if someone reads it and comments. That is the reason why I keep on irritating my friends to read my blog. Now this village girl got more than thirty members as well wishers of my blog. So I know it will be a sin if I don’t mention anything about them.
From my first follower Anoottan till the latest, each and every one stood with me and encouraged to do the best I can. I started a blog just to paste my unedited version of campus journal reports. Soon it became a medium to express what I feel. My style changed in course of time. It also gave me courage to write short poems. When I entered into active blogging, I’d to encounter a few interesting situations from my followers.
As I myself is crazy, it is ‘quiet natural’ that my followers too have the same mindset. There is one friend who is a regular reader of my blog. He suggests interesting topics for me to write. He encouraged me to write more and more poems. He loves to read topics that are controversial. He expects me to scribble something explosive. I’d promised him I’d do it one day. But I’m doubtful whether I could write something that would explode with a big bang. Another girl, whom I inform first when I post something, always makes me happy by posting cute remarks. Then there is a guy who never comments in my blog. Instead he’d text me saying I can do better.
One of my cousins used to check my blog every day morning to read my new posts. My PG friend asked me once to write about the craziest girl of our batch. I couldn’t reject it; but I was happy when the character of that post loved it. My little cousin needs me to write a colorful post with snaps on his sister’s engagement. The function is on coming Sunday and God knows what I could write…
Apart from admirations, I also get criticisms. In fact I value those words more. My English teacher of Peevees School advised me to simplify my words. He feel simple style suits me. Again a friend says I’ve to leave the reporting style while posting an article in my blog. I’ve tried to consider all opinions.
This post is to express my sincere gratitude all those who appreciated, criticized and valued my writings. And I also thank Anees who inspired me to get into the world of ‘blogdom’. I’m grateful to my parents, teachers, friends, batch mates, seniors, juniors, cousins, relatives and all others for being with me. Hope you will listen and accompany the voice of a village girl in coming days too….
Monday, January 10, 2011
Many groups have been formed in social networking sites like ‘No Dada No IPL’, ‘We want Dada back as Knight Rider in IPL4’ etc. “Is it right that Saurav, the one who gave a comeback to KKR after Brendon's captaincy should be deserted just because he is retired? Didn’t he score in 3rd IPL...?” comments Showmik Pal.
However Sharukh said he needs Ganguly to be a part of KKR in some other way. He came up with such a comment as he knows it will be tough to play in home ground without the support of Prince of Kolkata.
The cricket world and Dada fans awaits for Sourav’s reaction. As always, he keeps silence because he know that the ultimate victory is for him and his words. Tiger roar only rarely and when it does, it will be a royal one too…
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
I’d seen no girl crazier than a female from Kannur. I’m sure it is not only my opinion, but all my batch mates and the whole department of Amrita School of Communication will agree with me. And we happened to be together for the entire two years of our post graduation. May be that is the reason why one of my friend asked me to post something about this girl.
As I told to Meenakshi, a span of two years was more than enough for me to narrate about that character. If we had done some five year course, I’d have gone mad like her. She says I can’t conclude it in a blog post. Instead, according to her, I should write a thesis.
Well to start with the Kannur girl, she is very bold. I appreciate her courage. But I should also admit that she never look around when she choose her way. And most of the times she would end up in half way either because she lost the interest or she must have found something new to follow. To make her understand is hard.
In the beginning, she gave an impression as a girl who loves loneliness. Later she changed. She had a name, ‘the controversial queen of ASCOM’. Almost all her research topics were rejected by teachers as they find it too hot to handle. She plays veena very well and writes lovely Malayalam poems. However now she is not interested in writing poems and her laziness had made her veena rusty.
She is very caring, especially to those who are ‘depressed’. Many times she would end up taking me to hostel terrace and holding my hands, she’d ask, ‘what will I do with her’. I’d simply smile at her from which she will recognize it is the after effect of her unnecessary sympathy towards them that creates all the scenes.
She is also famous for doubt-clearing. Her doubts include not only academics, but also regarding her friends’ personal problems. Those innocent doubts usually end up in a big clash. When we both try a new food item, surely it’ll be a flop. Testing black olive and current ended up in a disaster.
She handles camera very well. She is the only one who took TV Production and News in our batch because of her passion to work with video cams. Camera is her most beloved buddy. When she gets a pd-170 cam, she won’t allow anyone else to touch it. This love of her has made me and our other TV news team member to raise our voice during our shoots.
She would throw all the shooting accessories aimlessly and also forgets to return back which always make our media coordinator angry. Whenever she enters editing room, he’ll start shouting at her for one or other reason. When I saw his scrap in her orkut profile wishing her on New Year, it brought a smile on my face.
From someone or other, I’ll get the news that she is alive and fine at home.Very often, she calls me at midnight simply to ask whether I’m fine. You can't expect her as a friend who daily rings or texts you. Her latest news is she left two jobs just because she felt like quitting. When we heard the news, all my friends in one voice said “gone case”.
Still that idiot is a close friend of mine. I miss her advices, our talks from hostel terrace, night canteen sessions, outings and TV news works. She has an amazing sense of humor which gave me the courage to write this post too.
(Thanks my dear friends especially Shahista for suggesting this topic. I expect sincere comments from all. Hope I’ll be able to reply if the heroine didn’t kill me.)
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Today the MEMU workshop in Palakkad is ready to set-off. MEMU (mainline electric multiple unit trains) is a little train with engines on both sides. With wide doors and spacious seating arrangements, these trains are always the choice for short distant journeys. In MEMUs you can walk from one end to another. There is only one MEMU operating in Kerala. It starts from Shornur and ends in Coimbatore. I always enjoy traveling to Ettimadai in this train, painted green and yellow.
But towards the end of last semester, MEMU once scared me. After an outing with our department’s academic pass, I and my friend hurried to board the train. The deadline to enter hostel back in the evening was 6pm. It was already six and so we managed to take the ticket peeping in through a long queue.
Another friend told us she would join us from train. We were not sure whether she was in the MEMU which was about to start. The girl who was with me told the other one would get into the train by any means. We didn’t have time to spare. Suddenly we got a call from her saying she is in that train. By that time train started. My friend got into train. I could not catch up the pace. She extended her arms for me to hold on. As I started climbing, my leg slipped.
Oh my God! It was a terrible thing even to remember. Luckily, a group of people standing near the door pulled me in. They started shouting at us. I didn’t here a single word what they had said. I was in a different world. I forgot even to express my gratitude to them. But whenever I see a train now, I used to thank them in my mind. A group of hands that pulled me from a disaster…