Wednesday, August 30, 2006


~I know this post may be a little too late for Independence Day... But that is a illusional endowment that we enjoy every day. I had written this poem as a comment for a couple of fellow bloggers. Thought I would post it today~

I walked past the corpses sacrificed in the name of fanaticism,
And the souls living a life of death in its terror,
I watched the law stripped naked by the symbols of corruption disguised in white.
I retched from the stench of poverty, the slums that have mushroomed on my belly.

I listened to the AIDS victims, homosexuals, transvestities crying out for acceptance.
I was deafened by the silence of women waiting to prove their worth.
I watched helplessly as soldiers died in the conspiracy of patriotism
And the spirits crumbled beneath the hand of casteism.

I have witnessed Pain of love, Ecstacy of grief, Sanctity of hatred and dubiety of happiness.
Yet cradling the hope of a better tomorrow in my womb,
I walked towards the tri-colour that symbolizes 6 decades of my freedom.

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The sequel of Mein Aunty Ban Gayi would follow in the next post. Me tied down with loads and loads and loads of work... I have begun to see little numbers wih tiny wings floating around me grinning at me devilishly. Pray for me so that I have the strength to hold onto the remanents of sanity... ;))))

Thursday, August 17, 2006


~This post dates a couple of months back~

We have all had our moments of truth – a crucial, defining moment that throws reality in the form of a baseball right at our face forcing us to swallow it. Well, I didn’t even imagine that my baseball would be thrown at me by a 6-year old darling.

I was returning back to Mumbai after over a week of vacationing at my home-sweet-home in Kerala. (‘Vacationing’ should be read as lying down on the ground in front of television and changing channels with my toes, munching nothing, anything and everything that my mother sets in front of me and if I get time off from my busy schedule I would sleep like a god-forsaken LOG which has gone into a coma for ages!!!). Every time I am about to leave home, my mother would hug me tight. First her lips would turn into a perfect inverted U, then her eyes would swell up with tears (her eyes have the incredible ability of filling up with tears right to the brim without letting it fall off onto her cheeks) and her nose would turn into a ripe tomato, making me wanna kiss it. Every time the very same scene in the very same sequence… I bid goodbye to a wet, ripe tomato poised above an inverted U and drove off with my father to the airport. The vision of my mother standing like that at the gate of my house would remain picture perfect in my mind for quite some time… every time…

My father on the other hand has mastered the art of hiding his emotions, which I have inherited. Since time immemorial women have been considered the epitome of emotions. But I feel emotions play an equal part in men and women alike. Just that we women know how to simply cry and let it out of our system. Men on the other hand just do not know what to do with all the emotions accumulated over their lifetime. They seem to be walking on a tightrope balancing all those feelings on one side and the image of a “strong man” on the other. He would hardly talk to me all the way to the airport.

When I and my father reach the airport, he would put an arm on my shoulder and say,

“Shari, mone” (“Ok. Son.” He always called me ‘Son’)
“Poyitte varu” (The literal translation would be “Go Come”, but it means something to the effect “Take Care”)

The only thing that would give away the true emotions behind these 4 words is the slight quiver in his voice as he said them. Later my mother would tell me that my father was in a foul mood that day like all the other days I left from home. I turn and walk towards the airport exclaiming to myself, “Parents!!!” :)

I was looking forward for my flight that time as it was the first time I would be flying in Kingfisher, the much heard about king of all times. Right at the entrance there was a representative greeting you and taking your luggage. It felt goooood. Come ooooon! Who wudnt like a li’l bit of pampering? When my friends had come to know that I was traveling by Kingfisher, they had given me quizzical looks which said, “Why are YOU traveling by Kingfisher???” As soon as I entered the plane I knew what they meant. The airhostesses were GORGEOUS!!! They were adorned in smart red sailor suites and I could not help but ogle at them. Errr… Mein straight che.. ;)

The seats were plush and luxurious and the designer interiors were highly attractive in luscious red. Kingfisher was indeed the king of the Indian skies especially after experiencing airborne bullock-carts like Air Deccan. But what bowled me over was when I saw Yana Gupta, in her smart mini-skirt, giving the safety instructions in a screen right in front of me. Damn! She was even speaking in an accented Hindi. My eye-balls literally popped out of their sockets and fell off into my very hands. Vijay Mallya seems to be playing the cards R-E-A-lly well - Kochu Kalla, China Thiruda, Little Robber.

I slumped back into the comfort of the seat and closed my eyes. I opened my eyes after just a moment and there she was …. A vision… A vision of big round eyes behind cherubic curls….

To be continued…

~Gosh! Now I know how powerful Ekta Khanna feels. ;)... Errrr.. That was Ekta Kapoor.. Hehe.. ~

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Hey Guys,

Thanks to all of you for the best wishes for the contest. I am taking a break from work and going off to my fav city - Hyderabad. I am hoping to surprise a dear friend. Can’t wait to be there.

Take Care… :)


Friday, August 11, 2006


A couple of weeks back a colleague of mine submitted a short story from my blog titled 'Long Wait Home' on my behalf, as an entry for a contest called 'World's Greatest Novel'. This forum is building a novel that would be written by numerous writers. This is how it goes... First, write-ups are invited from writers across the globe, which is then shortlisted by a panel. One write-up is selected from the shortlisted works based on a public vote. This becomes the beginning of the novel. For the next part again a contest is conducted by inviting entries from writers. This process goes on till the entire novel is completed. Cool idea, ain't it?
Well, what my dear colleague missed out was that my write-up should have creating a setting for the start of a novel. But she liked my story and just send it without paying attention to the instructions. I had received this reply: -
"Hello, thank you for submitting your work. We have read through the work and must congratualte you on an excellent piece of literature.
However, as you already are aware we hope to create a novel. We are concerned that this opening has no where left to go. And on this basis have declined the work.
Where do you see the next chapter going or what the story could develop into if this extract was the start.
I would be glad to hear your views, we just fear this has no scope for future writers.
We would be very interested in receiving a work from you that allowed plenty of potential for the story to progress.
Thank You"
So I considered the matter closed and didnt even bother replying. But today when I opened my mail i had this message from them:-
"Hello Betsy.
Our various editors have read through your work again. After careful consideration and debate, it is felt the standard of writing deserves to see this work progress through to the next round.
We are still concerned that the work has limited opportunities for progress, but we have decided to let the general public on the forum have the final say.
The work is excellently written and we would like to congratulate you once more for an excellent piece of literature.
The work will be published on the site in the near future.
Good luck with regard the voting for the actual chosen work."
Out of the 253 entries they got, 12 have been shortlisted so far. And one of the shortlisted writers is MOIIIIIIIII... :)))) ~running around dancing and peeing in my pants~ ;))))
Check it out for urselves... Get onto On the left-hand side the list of short-listed candidates are given. Mine is the 9th one named 'Betsy Mathew 10/08/06' (Yup! Thats my name :)). Click on it and you will be able to view my write-up.
You can also click on 'Forum' and then on 'Shortlisted Work' (the second option) and give in your views.
~still beaming away to glory~
And all of you guys, why dont you give it a try? Try ur luck. It could be a nice way to create a writing background for aspiring writers.

Saturday, August 05, 2006


~When I was home a few months back I was going through the junk in my room. I came across this poem that I had written when I was about 12~

When I was a child, so meek and mild,
I sat on my mother’s lap, looking at her face.
I clung to every word she said,
Cherishing her tender gaze.

She told me about everything, sun, moon, breeze,
Even about the birds that sang on every tree,
But she always reminded me of one thing,
She always wanted me to love that one thing.

She said, “Reach out for the rainbow,
Seeming so far yet so near.
In every step of your way, to the rainbow you should go.
Never fear that, because God is always there.

When the clouds are black, there is thunder
When problems arise, your steps may falter.
But after the storm, after the rain, there is rainbow,
So don’t stop your journey, to the rainbow you should go.

Through all your burdens, through all your pain
The sun may seem covered by the clouds
There may be no way for you to go through
But remember there’ll be a rainbow, shining just for you.

And there is a pot of gold
At the end of every rainbow
The legend may be true or old
But to get what you want, reach out for the rainbow

It is a bridge between heaven and earth
Between dreams and real life
It reminds you that love is not to be held, but given
You should be strong, so to the rainbow you should go.

It is the symbol of peace, a symbol of hope
It says you’ll always be able to rely on God
When with your problems, you want to cope
It tells you not to look at the problem on which you have to trod.

A rainbow is a thing of beauty, a joy forever
It reminds you of a river
Which keeps flowing till its destination
Overpowering all obstacles without hesitation

Even when my mother lay in the hospital
She was in great pain
Still she did not show it on her face
And outside it began to rain

She said, “The clouds are heavy,
The night is dark and dreary,
But when the rainbow comes there will be light.
So reach for the rainbow, through the way that is right.

She lifted her hand to my face, so mild and meek.
She breathed a deep sigh,
Her hand fell from my cheek
She went with a silent goodbye.

My mother’s words still rang in my ears,
They drive away all my fears.
“Reach for the rainbow, so far away yet so near,
It is your aim, the sky is your limit.”

“To the rainbow you should go, where there is light.
To the rainbow you must go, through the way that is right.
To the rainbow so beautiful, to the rainbow so bright.”

~Although now when I read it I find the poem a li'l lousy :), I was amazed that even at that age my writings were very dark... Its been ages since I have written a poem.~

I need to add this as I think my poem may have been a li'l misleading.. The poem is purely fictional. My mother is alive and kicking. Although she did suffer from a fatal stroke when I was 11. Not sure if this poem stemmed out of the experience of almost loosing my mother.. not sure..