R.I.P - Me

-
I am seriously considering publishing my obituary (when I'm still alive) in the leading dailies and see the reactions it causes. A man is truly wealthy if he is sorely missed by atleast 4 people who are not related to him by birth. I want to know how rich I really am.

I know for sure that my family will shed tears and they will miss me (hopefully) but I wonder how many of my friends and other neighbours I have truly touched. It is ironical that we save up all the compliments pertaining to a person till the funeral, how many times we have refrained from giving it to the person concerned when he was still there with us.

I remember the scene when we had gathered to bid farewell to a cose frien who passed away under very tragic circumstances in the prime of his youth, where I realized what an amazing person he was. It was a truly humbling experience to realize that my friend though not the best of men as per conventinal standards was in fact a true gem among commoners, for he had made a profound impact on so many.

It is scary to think, if I have lived my life in such a way that I have drawn people to me purely out of love and made a success of it. I would love to die to find out and so we return to the start of this post again.....

Comments

  1. harlequin6:26 pm

    yeah, it would be nice to find out whom we have touched.. but i dont think ill be willing to die for it! thanks for ur comment in my page, by the way..

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Your take on this?

Popular posts from this blog

Bad donkey, small wall.

-
Image
This was a crude translation of a proverb that comedian Karunas (as pointed out by Chriz ) made famous in one movie. The Tamil original runs thus, “Kazhutha ketta, kutti suvaru” so you have the translation. I heard that line somewhere and I wondered especially having heard the translation as to what could have been the origin of the proverb. Any ideas? PS: I Googled it and did find something.
Read more

Memories of PTC bus journeys!

-
Image
MTC bus today! As I was turning into Haddows road today a MTC bus whizzed by nearly missing a few people on the road as is the norm. Just when I was about to curse the bus and its driver and everybody connected to it, my mind drifted back to the days gone by when I used to travel by these buses. The more my mind drifted, more instances that have been deeply etched in the confines of my memory came out like a mental slideshow. It is amazing how at the most unexpected moments lost thoughts surface and make even poor memory people like me feel good about us. Coming back to the post I thought I will put together a few memorable ones for the record. It was in the days of khaki shorts and white shirts, the old uniform of Dominic Savio Preparatory school (I’m told it has graduated to a matriculation now!) and its bigger sibling St. Bede’s Anglo Indian Higher Secondary School (100 years now, dear school of our hearts). School was a two stop bus ride from home if you got onto a white board bus
Read more

Appa tie, Amma gown

-
Image
This post was spurred by some grammar related conversations in the CBC I   went through college with the tag “Peter” or the longer “Appa tie, amma gown” . If you have not got it yet, my English was flawless and for those who could not follow what I said they thought that this was payback. It was not a fluke, my parents did not have a convent education but they ensure that my brother & I got one. It was an Anglo Indian school where speaking any other language but English meant you ran rounds around the decent sized play ground. My neighbours were Anglo Indians too, a wonderful couple who also taught for a living in my school, did i forget to mention they had two daughters who were similar in age to my brother and me ensuring that we played & grew up together for a few years. As it was English near home and in school my fluency increased. But even this upbringing may not have been enough were it not for one unforgettable instance when I noticed that the washed
Read more