St.Joseph's !

      Diving deep into the annals of time... I am that skinny dark brat again !... feeling strangely loved by all... even the teachers ! who despaired to see the giggling unrepentant joker who should really try harder...
      I even remember being 4 years old! ...in KG A where the chairs were blue! ( and we envied the chairs in KG B where the chairs were pink!!) In classrooms with colourful pictures, sometimes we were given beads to thread  some craft or some crayons to colour...
      Still remember our I std teachers...Everyday, last period we would loudly chant the alphabets and numbers  and suddenly we were literate !
      In diamond netted classrooms ... with radiant readers and tables  we learnt to read  and add in Std II. Std III I remember at last moving to the last row reserved for the rank holders.Std IV with Ms Evelyn ! We simply adored her and didn't want to leave IV th Std! She taught us lots of fun songs...
      Std V in Ms Yolanda's class at last! Neatness cleanliness were instilled in us. We loved her singing class and english class and learnt to speak in english too! Every month we would have a different class leader- a prestigious post elected  by the secret ballot!  Burdened  with the post I had to be punctual not smile or make a face when scolded make sure the benches were dustedmake sure the class was quiet when the teacher was away....I do wonder whatever we talked to make such a big din! Carrying the classwork notebooks and walking behind the teacher to the staffroom and cleaning the blackboard were the other prestigious jobs !
      Std VI seemed to be a big deal . Ms. Sulochana who would screw our ears for the slightest indiscipline was our class teacher. Fear for the ear kept us attentive and quiet!  Std  VII  at last! Ms Sitalakshmi tried so hard to discipline us and teach us some maths too. Remember Ms Leela so tiny and kind... Remember the room behind the criss cross bamboo wall classroom... the secret room where I once hid when I was late for assembly. The dusty wounded benches were a safe haven from the wrath of  our pt teachers who were in charge of assembly!
      Graduating to Std VIII  was indeed an achievement.  Ms. Josephine Mary taught us to debate . Sister Fatima frightened us with algebra! The balcony around the first floor classroom was such great fun. In sheer joy we would run around climbing through the windows and dashing through the doors. Begging my friends to help me with needlework, passing lunch boxes during lunch time,finishing forgotten maths homework 5 minutes before class.. Whew! weren't we busy!
      School choir , assembly exercises,flag hoisting, teachers'day,sports day , walking a mile just to reach the games ground, drinking water from the trickling taps ,the school depot where we bought our books, the grotto with Mother Mary - which we climbed before the exams to light candles!-St Joseph's statue and the quiet Chapel we visited often ...so many images ...so many smiles...With moral science we learnt right from wrong , to be kind and helpful as much as we can!
      Ms. Myrtle relentlessly tried to improve our english. If we didn't bring our dictionaries we  were sent out of class! She would even check if it was our own copy and not a hurriedly borrowed one! Our notebooks had to be so neat (no dog ears) Our essays had to be better! The lessons we learnt in her class were indeed  invaluable but her stern demeanor would make us stutter and stammer in fear and confusion! Her class control , impeccable english and personality made us wonder if indeed Mark Twain or even Wordsworth  could be greater than her!
      Bidding adieu to childlike ways we stepped into Std IX. We had to be extra quiet- which was tough. Our teachers seemed more friendly. We loved listening to our Tamil teacher Sharadambal Ji . As she narrated the great epics  Ramayana and Mahabharata in our joint classes we were transported to the ancient times. She was such a dear who was very liberal in giving us marks.  So we tirelessly wrote pages and pages of all sorts of stories trying to impress with sheer paper bulk! She was such a dear and we were such monsters. We would sit at her feet  interchanging her slippers wondering if she would wear them right when she left the class!  Calling us donkeys and all sorts of things she struggled hard to tame and teach.
      Ms Celine patiently taught us the intricacies of trigonometry and binomials. Ms. Meenakshi had us spellbound in the biology classes.Ms. Meenambal  with the greatest dedication brought history alive and geography so interesting. Ms . Christina Ms. Shakila Ms Vijaya helped us get our studies right. Shankar Ji our Hindi Ji always seemed cheerful and bright.
      Std X at last! The classroom above the staffroom with the fluttering pigeons and a big window was the most prestigious place!We were the seniors at last!  By virtue of being the most entertaining person I was the spl ! School pupil leader! Whew was it tough. Miss Victoria gave me such a hard lecture when I hoisted the flag green side up that I thought of quietly escaping to China! When all I wanted was to laugh and chat with all my friends I had to be good ,punctual , lead the exercise drill in the assembly and when I forgot the order- and the whole school giggled- face the heat of the teacher's fury !  We had to stand in militarily precise lines - in the perfect height order- not a hair out of place- no smiling while the leaders checked if our shoes were shined and our shirts ironed .  We stood under the hot sun and I still remember the exercise tune  ,  the  school choir singing the prayer song  and then we marched  back to class for the first hour all hot and sweating!  I remember hiding under the wooden stairs even the brooms cupboard once to escape this .It was in places like this I made the most number of friends!  And in case some teacher decided to look out for us we had it!!  Nirmala my goody goody assistant and I would be waiting outside the staffroom asking for excuses, saying we are sorry, promising to be better week after week!
      Locked inside dark classrooms for movie shows where we aahed and oohed in delight  Class excursions to exotic places like Tuticorin and Kanyakumari  Walking in a line to theatres outside school to watch movies  like sound of music were the happiest distractions from our studies! Outdoor classes under the neem trees  were such pleasant diversions too.
      We enacted plays for Christmas and Teachers day One such play a modern Cinderella brought us all together.  And of course I remember everyone now. Sudha and Alamelu mangai from kg times! Prathi the perfect one who loved a good joke!  Kanchi Leela Shobha Meenal  Durgasri Nilofer Rosaline MaryJesintha Alphonsa Jeyarani Uma J Uma solanki Uma Maheshwari Mali Aisha Asha Ashalatha  Usha Usharani MPS Usha  Shakthi Shantha Agatha Ruth Philomena Kalaiselvi Jayalakshmi Keech Josephine Mary  N .Meenakshi Sigappi Geetha Fazila  Loli  Puppitha  Rajula RadhaMai Jaishree   Saroj Ashwini Sujathas  Bhuvana Viji Bhavna Arifa  Sherufinisha  Vasanti Alamelu  ....  So many friends  So many smiles....
      Chandu Soma Radha Mani Subashini  were all part of high school fun too. We travelled  to school together in city buses speaking our secret p language laughing and dancing in sheer fun.
       Thanks St. Joseph's  for all that we learned and the smiles that we shared.

Tales of yore !

     Online shopping , gaming on alienware,malls and brands are the norms of today. Norms that highlight  my greys and make me reminesensce  on tales of yore !
     My daddy was a storyteller beyond compare! Everynight we gathered around him, massaging his back and listened to stories of  his adventurous youth, his grandparents ,his father,the swami who transformed their lives...interpersed with world war stories, Nehru, Gandhi,Germany, Hitler, the cameras he bought, the rifles he owned, the cars he loved....
     He insisted that we the dark skinned  were  the true 'sons' of the  soil the  Dravidians !  while the fair skinned like  my  mother were the invading  Aryans !  So somehow we were happy and proud to be what we were!
     My dad was generosity personified. He could not listen to a sad tale and turn a blind eye. He would loan out thousands naively believing that when the tides turned his friends would return the money. Luckily for us he gave some money to a book shop owner who repaid the money in kind ! Books of all sorts were thrust upon him and he happily brought home chandamamas,amar chitra kathas, and loads of self help books 'Learn malayalam in 30 days! Driving in two weeks ! Gardening, Motorcycle mechanics, The theory of  relativity, Astrology, Palmistry, Ayurveda, Home remedies, Islam, Buddhism,Home decor, Amateur photography, Medicinal plants, Puzzles, House and Garden, Ghost stories, 'How to speak with the dead ' ! (in Tamil) , Countries of the world, Pocket books on  Birds ,Spiders... Hitchcock ,Shaw,Kannadasan, Kalki, Tchekov ,Sputniks, Discovery of India...Something of everything found a way home ! Our education was effortless,complete,joyful...
   My dad's maternal grandfather whom he called 'chiyan' was one of his favourite persons. He was big and strong and once caught and hung a thief upside down on a tree !  We too adored this great grandfather!! Once upon selling the produce from the land... he sold the cart and ox too and just upped with the money to roam around India!..abandoning  his wife and two daughters .  " Highly irresponsible ! " my mom would glare. ... but he came back  to recount his tales of adventure.. of travelling to far off lands  ... of even spending a day with some  Bandits of Chambal!! My mom was not pacified though!!
   My grandfather was much revered by my father. He was a soft spoken gentleman, pious, of humble origins...He married my grandmother on knowing she could steam and pound  even a sack of paddy with ease! His only condition on marrying her was that she should feed anyone he brings home with a smile or at least without a frown !! .A strange condition it may seem but he had this compulsive habit of  meeting sadhus whom he would invite home and expect my grandmother to prepare their special wants. There was a sadhu  who drank only milk three times a day,another angry one who threw away the rasam on tasting it!! So everyday there was a guest even though their earnings were meagre.Most unfortunately my grandfather gave up agriculture to start a cloth shop with fine muslins and cottons imported from Britain. This shop was ransacked by zealous patriots who were against foreign goods. As he struggled along...  my grandmother would ensure  that their plates were piled high with all the seasonal  delicacies .. mangoes and fish  and the choicest meat ..everyday!! She was rearing cows,dyeing sarees,making appalams and a hundred other things! He was a scholar who would read Thirukural and Kaivalyam ( a Tamil equivalent of the Upanishads ) while she could not read nor care to!.. but they complimented each other to raise their brood of five of which my dad was the youngest and the 'pet' of the family !
   One such sadhu my grandfather chanced upon was a swami who was passing by...He was popularly called Manikatti Swamy because during his days of tapas in the forest the goatherds who saw him  tied the goatbells to his girdlestring amazed that someone could be so unaware of the world around him!! Immersed in the Self , in search of  Shivam  ...he was venerated by the village people who discerned he was alive only by a slight movement of  his little toe!  He was a wandering medicant , a siddhar who left his shrew of a wife and a son .... in search of the truth . From his hometown Mandhi thoppu where he was a landlord with coconut farms and mango groves , he would  wander around as far away as Kasi even Burma  studying medicinal plants  and practices .He soon prepared his own catalogue of  effective medicines for various diseases.With intuitive understanding of the nature and properties of various herbs, barks of trees,metals ...even red ants and small animals were used in preparing various medicines He was looking for a suitable disciple to pass on this great knowledge, when my grandfather met him.Impressed by his simplicity,spirituality his loving respectful service to the sadhus and the implicit trust and love that the family showered upon him-  Manikatti  Swamy made a decision to tutor him as his disciple.
   From the forests of Kerala and Tamilnadu he put together oils and herbs and roots  and barks... a  thailam that cools and heals the body. He revealed the secret proportions and procedures to my grandfather who started producing and marketing the product. My father would recall washing and polishing Swami's brass jug until it gleamed  and  filling it with the cleanest water, his mother preparing the choicest meals  and respectfully  serving him as he stayed on.. teaching my grandfather a long catalogue of medicines.
   The sale of the thailam turned the tides of fortune. Soon my grandfather could buy a bigger house ,a bigger shop as people across Tamilnadu enjoyed the benefits of this oil .
   Strange were the ways of  Swami. While my grandfather benifitted  materially and spiritually from the wisdom of Swami, he refused to reveal his knowledge to his own son. My dad would recall  how , on the day he attained samadhi, they all  rushed to Mandhithoppu to pay their last respects. The  Swamy was lowered into a vault  filled with the sacred ash which he himself had collected!! We listened  with awe as my father recounted these hoary tales with suitable dramatic effects!
   My grandfather missed the Swamy -his guru ,friend,philosopher and guide -dearly. The Swami's blessing brought great prosperity to the family. My grandfather would religiously perform Gurupooja every year as thanksgiving to the Swami. After surviving a nasty stab by a jealous neighbor he decided to move to a bigger town.
   As his family prospered and grew my grandfather retained  his simplicity- never dorning anything more than a dhothi , whatever the occasion! and continued reading and pondering till his last day!
   Thus unfolded  stories upon stories- more exotic than those in mere books! These tales of yore comfort and soothe.The deceptive melody of the cellphone chased away my muse hurtling me right back into snapdeals and flipcarts  -the cyber savvy world and my cyber inadequacies!!
  

my first silver hair...

My first silver hair...
And i wondered why ...
Stress ? Nutritional deficiency ? Heredity ?
If i cant prevent it ..I'll henna it!

Constant headaches
a little breathlessness
a little overweight
a little knee pain
But the little pills
can set them all right!

Crows feet around my eyes
Try a little botox?
The fading world...
Progressive lenses of course!
Run diet yoga
Get a little younger


Tweeze the hair
Save the skin
Fight the change!
Live a little longer..

No oil   No fried foods
No sweets
Powdered jamun seeds
Karela and greens
Raw and nasty !

Yet one day..
I find I cannot  get up from my bed
The body is worn out..
I need somebody
To help me up
I live in fear
of being deserted...

Life has become a burden
But still I hope..
That tomorrow I'll get younger
I'll get better
Get up , walk  , cook ,
Play with my grandson, amuse him..!

Then I despair ..
Suddenly I smell death
Slowly but surely
its coming my way..
Fear and sadness
depress me.

What did I do wrong  that THIS is happening  ??

My first silver hair..
Did you try to tell me
'Its time to find Krishna
The dark mysterious one'

As I walk and
eat less with sugar free
I have to live longer
not to live longer...!
But to find that  Truth
That Light
To simply Be
Be happy
At peace !
: )

Friends

Long forgotten friends took me years back in time...

28 yrs!

The colonial buildings,the lofty trees with the nesting cranes,the stone benches,the meandering paths,trellis covered with creepers,

narrow staircases,the school building with so many entrances,dark corridors,a lift!..the charms of vikaasa were many.

Wide eyed - with hesitant smiles.. we - the new comers stepped in to make new friends,fit in ,and perchance study  !

I dont know how it happened but we girls had to occupy the first row. I was sandwiched between Nina my south paw friend, with her continental clothes,ready smile and misleading softspoken gentleness and  serious studious Akthar. With guilty pleasure I recall the horrible plots Nina and I used to think up to trouble the chem and physics lab assistants who were too strict with us! She could sweet talk Mr. Venky to free all the white mice and stand her ground that even from a different angle her artistic hibiscus was still a scientific diagram! You rocked Nina!

Across the aisle was Shoba my dancing friend striving for perfection and precision in everything.Next was Shyla the artist.We so liked your people on paper with big soulful eyes , sombre expressions and the earthy colours.Then of course was Brindha from Botswana with her ready smile and perfect diction !

Somehow the coolcats of our class Nikhat, Sudha and Uma were in the last row with Thiagarajan, Vijayarajan and Udhaya banu  and seemed to be having a rollicking time always!

Nikhat could do so many things it was amazing play basketball, the guitar, croon along ,run, jump and be such a fun friend too!

Sudha had a little sister who called her Sukka which fit such an endearing,sweet, ever helpful friend even better .
Umsy with her basilik glare and no nonsense ways turned out to have the warmest smile dimple et al  to be the sweetest friend !

In the second row were all the brainiacs of our class.  Can remember Arvind, Ramakrishnan, Vanchi, Prakash ,Mani ,Robert ..always furiously  working on their maths, racing to get the answers first and scaring dimwits like me by their very  brilliance! Vanchi's cryptic sense of humour riling poor nikhat always and Mani's amazing gk all had a charm of their own.

And we had so many rameshes in our class, S G  SV who were only known by their initials finally! Brings a smile to recall sv singing ,playing,whirling around to dazzle and impress! Remember Eapen ,S Ramesh so quite and courteous... Srinath my sisters friends brother... Narayanaswamy the tall quite one from fiji ...

Kumar and G Ramesh the star athletes seemed to be Mr. Reddy's assistants leading the horrible drills and endless laps!

Some of us who were allergic to maths Sudha and me and others did advanced english instead with sk the sweetest most tolerant teacher, So we got to know Kiran Chitra  and all the commerce group folks as well Maddhu, Rita and her lovely sisters,Sita , Sharon the perfect one!, Rajesh, Ashok, Deen, Chockalingam, Anand, Satyadev and his karate greeting, Ramesh dagga and everyone else!

So many memories rush in  ...  Thiagarajan frightening poor Miss Sashirekha, Sudha's shoelace as ribbon tied to a chair ,sharing laps and art class with mads,veena classes with shoba...

Inspite of the awkwardness of teenage I'm glad i was there... 28 yrs ago.. to find my best friends for life !

sumi

The Legacy

THE LEGACY
 
CHAPTER ONE
  Are we destitutes? - the four of us - a young widow and her three young girls..
lost and penniless without my father. Are we to be pitied and shunned ?-NO! NO! NO!
What if my mother does'nt have a son. I am there for her. Soon i'll finish my
schooling and with Valluvar and Vivekananda in my soul I'll work as a teacher
and with dignity and respect we will live and even find some happiness.
 
  Today is the day of the interview. There is no reason for me to be rejected.
I'll go for the teacher training and soon our troubles will be over. My mother
is not happy with the situation, but she is a kind and lovely lady. She believes
in me and will stand by me. The guilt of not having a dowry to get me married
weighs her down heavily. But I assure her we'll do fine.
 
 What is this new twist to the story? My mother tells me I'm getting married!
Marriage ? I'm not sure about this. I cannot leave my mother and sisters and go
anywhere. But it seems it's not the usual thing.
 
  It seems a clever girl like me has caught the fancy of a young zamindar.
I think our days of woe are over. I'm taking on the role of a wife and mother of
two young children. It sounds a little too much.. but i don't care. I will accept
what has come my way with dignity and grace. The good man has a home and heart
big enough for all of us.


  It is the third marriage for him. In spite of his huge wealth and comforts,
he had to lose two young women to disease. Will his son and daughter accept
me? Will they be jealous of their father's affection for me?




  CHAPTER TWO.


  Ten glorious years have rolled by. I'm expecting my eighth child at the end of
the year. Will it be a beautiful daughter or a dutiful son? It seems like just
yesterday when i was waiting for my first born. She is a beautiful girl,quite,
sensitive and intelligent who thrills her father with her learned ways. He named
her Shankunthala, after king Bharat's mother, but Thanthaka is what he likes to
call her, like the young ones.
  My second daughter Kausalya, named after Rama's
mother dilligently follows her elder sister - impressing us with her well
memorized Tamil verses and her helpful ways. Kakli as he calls her is his
favourite too.


  My third daughter, beautifully named Vatsala by her doting father is such a help
to my mother. There was a cobra underneath her cradle, when she was a baby which
left her unharmed. Since then we feel, she is a gift from the snake gods and
seeking their protection, we also named her Nagarathinam - the jewel of the snake
-lovingly called Nappu.
  My fourth born is Leela, my beautiful daughter with her
delicate ways and soulful eyes. She is a joy to behold, so neat and clean and so
willing to learn from her elder sisters. She is a beauty, is'nt she?
 
  Our prayers were at last answered when we were blessed with our beautiful son
Dhayalavel. He is a pride and joy to behold. His father and sisters are surely
going to spoil him rotten. Amidst all his chores, my husband takes great
pleasure in giving him a clean bath and getting him ready for school! No father
could be more thrilled with his son.
  Like the gentle spring is my sixth bornVasantha. A little delicate and frail,
 she wanders around always smiling, doting on her anna, Leelakka and her little sister.
 
  My youngest daughter is here beside me-Indra, just like Nehru's daughter, but
she is kutti to all of us. Bright and beautiful and a joy to behold. Already
she has all her sisters and thambi wrapped around her little finger!
  Yes! At last my second son is here. Our joy knew no bounds. He is so small and beautiful and
looks so much like his father.Gunavel is the joy of all our hearts with his
pensive looks and ready smile.
 
  The years have rolled by. My two stepchildren were married off with great pomp and
show. My husband is always busy,but always spends time with his family. He
enquires about their studies, takes us on a vacation to Kodaikanal every
summer. He has bought a spinning mill among other things which is his great
pride. Life could'nt be better. Everything that a whiteman invents is hurried
into our home much to the delight of the children. The car and the telephone
and the radio are a great source of pride and entertainment to all my children.
My mother could'nt be happier that I have kept her so busy with my
children.


  Yet he looks troubled. To a person who lends to a bank, money cannot be a
problem. His eldest daughter is in Lanka and he is setting out to visit her
tomorrow. Even as he collects the shopping list from his little ones,he looks a
little troubled as he bids us farewell.


  CHAPTER THREE
 
  NO! it could'nt be him. A nobleman was found dead in a train coach in
SriLanka. But it could'nt be HIM. Yet his papers have pointed to our house and
i've been asked to identify. My beloved relatives have rallied around me. But I
refuse to believe it. He was an active and healthy man ...how can he die? but the
body is on the way home
 
  Dear God! but why did you do this to me? Have the good deeds of my past lives
dribbled away. Where has he gone? I should not have let him go. Aiyo! What will
i do? How can i live without him. Can a little poison take me too.. to wherever he is?


  Dear God did you give me such an abundance of joy ,only to snatch it away
so soon. Look at these dear little ones. How could you bereave them like this.
How can i bring them up on my own. How will they grow up without a father. Is
there any justice in all this? Did i do any great harm to someone in some
long forgotten past life. What about these little ones. What did they do to
deserve this?
 
  Did i really find so much happiness in eleven short years? Was it all a
mirage? How will i climb out from the depths of my sorrow. How can i face my
little ones. What can i tell them?Dear God, help me to do the right thing for my
sons and daughters. Give me the strength to face everyday. Nothing -but
nothing - can make me totally alright again. The childrens' every look and every
action will only remind me of what i have lost. Look at my youngest ones, they
will never even remember their father.. not just a father- but a
wonderful,kind,witty,helpful,loving father. How can i ever hope to make it
alright for them.
 
  Not long was I allowed to indulge in my grief. I shut myself in a dark room and
cried in silent agony.. not meeting anyone, not even seeing the children. It seems
even grief is a luxury for a widow with eight children. Can i trust our fortunes
to my stepson and expect him to support us? Acres and acres of land, fields,
and salt pans and buildings spanning so many towns...how ignorant i was of all
this wealth. But they give me no comfort. The rent from the many buildings and
salt pans alone can feed and educate my children. The enormous wealth kindled
animosity from some of the relatives. The thorns on the path are sharp and they
even draw blood.
 
  What a big responsibility! How will my sons know what to do without a father
to guide them. Can a mother squander her minor sons' wealth with no thought of
their welfare?-that is a case i have to face in court. What a shame this is!


  How can we live in dignity after such a great tragedy? With court cases and
partitioning of the properties, i was glad the house we lived in was bought in my
name, as it ensured us not only shelter but a home filled with memories of my
dear husband.
 
  The bathroom with two closets! the four pillars in the middle of the
house,tiles laid to play games were the fond indulgences of a beloved father.


  The children are growing up. Shaku is the role model for her sisters. She loves
to read and closely follows the freedom struggle articles in the papers. She is
an academic and i'm willing to send her to American college for her college
education, eventhough it's a men's college and many may disapprove.
  Kousi is good in her studies too. I've arranged for a music and veena teacher and i hope the
children will benefit greatly from all this.
  Leela likes her music lessons and tries to inspire the young ones too.
 I love to hear them sing especially Kabali!
  Thambi trading bajjis and playing with his siblings wrenches my heart with sorrow that
his father is not here to enjoy all this.
  Nappu is not really interested in her books but she is such a treasure
 as she helps my mother and helps the little ones.
  Vasantha is my smiling daughter so helpful and so dutiful.
  I wonder why my youngest daughter is so naughty. She would'nt touch her plate, if her
favourite dishes are not on the table. Her playful nature,her competitive spirit
and her knack with numbers remind me of her father too.My youngest one is the
softest. He is so polite,so understanding, so neat, so devoted to his brother.It
melts my heart just to look at him.
 
  How is life going to treat all of them. I have to find good spouses for all
of them. Wealth is important but good character is more important. I'm rather proud of my sons
so virtuous and free of any vices , my clever daughters so beautiful and so caring.. It
warms my heart seeing them care for each other and helping each other in their
little ways.
  What does the future hold for them? What is their legacy? When faced
with adversity how will they face it? How can i empower them? They are so
playful and pay no heed when i tell them to study.If they are ready, i am
willing to send them to college.Will at least half of them get a college
degree?


  When this enormous wealth reaches their hands, my sons should not let it go to
their heads. It's more important to lead a morally upright good life rather than
a showy flamboyant famous but decadent life.As the daughters of a nobleman, do
i have to find spouses equal in status. It's indeed a big responsibility. As
their father used to say, all these are truly destined. Good men who will
keep my daughters happy are all i'm looking for. The modest dowry can help them start
on with life. I will be happy to see my diamonds adorning my children. If ever
my daughters face any difficulties in life, they have each other to care for,
and my jewellery which will go to them and even a little of their father's
wealth should help them. No daughter of the great man should ever suffer for
want of a dignified life. Let my children share their wellbeing with eachother
and may their getting together resound with laughter, care and understanding.
May their father bless them with long lives,many children,love and
laughter
  May their legacy be fulfilled as they find joy and comfort in each other.






By,
Sivagami Palanisamy in Sumithra Elango


brickbats and bouquets awaited !!