Sweet was the maiden,
Hope was her name,
She sheltered one and all,
Under her long, lovely mane.

Her tresses, so exquisite,
Were unique in that,
They could talk and sing,
And, oh, what a pretty song at that.

Their song told of tales,
Of triumph and success,
And bade every man
To try his level best.

Never to despair,
Or to leave hope’s hand,
For once left back,

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‘These products are cent percent free from any artificial flavours or preservatives; they do not contain any pesticides either.’ Yes, this perfectly describes the vegetables (and fruits) in your own kitchen garden.

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Can I ask you, do you like me?
And if you can answer, what will it be?
And if you do like me, why do you do so?
What is it in me that you like?
Do you like me for what I am, or for what you wish I would be?
Do you like my smile, my eyes or my sound?
Or is it my behaviour which held your mind?
My ways which you find pretty and dear,
Near to you, forever near.

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Such is the mystery of chemistry that I have never been able to grasp its intricacies fully. But then, that is not the subject’s fault. It is my fault, and mine alone. If only I had paid more attention to those numerous lectures at which I half slept, half chatted with my neighbour, during those three blissful years that was graduation.

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Gold, the royal metal. Long and hard did the alchemists try to turn copper into this king of metals, but to no avail. Like gold became out of reach for them literally, gold is going out of reach of the masses. What makes it be so?

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It would be criminal, and indeed, an unpardonable offence, if I were to forget my beautiful (all sarcasm duly intended) experiments, in the chemistry lab, which I did with the utmost confidence (to be read diffidence) and courage (to be read cowardice).

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Kerala, dubbed God's own country is my land. This is where i was born and brought up, and this is where my soul will ever be, wherever I might live. It is indeed a lovely land, a land of scenic beauty, a land of everlasting peace, prosperity and happiess, since time immemorial when the righteous ruler,King Mahabali ruled over the land.

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I truly believe that I am one unique person who always thinks, not twice, not thrice but about thirty times before each leap. I wonder if I started to walk at the age when others do, because if I was such a deep and philosophical thinker even at that time, following the proverb “Look before you leap” to such an extent that would have put to shame the best practitioners of the same.

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Would you have thought it possible that even in this era, there would be people like me who do not know even the F of Fashion? No, right?

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You may praise him, you may criticize him, but you just can’t ignore his presence. That is Saurav Chandidas Ganguly for you. To my mind, the words, ‘He came, he saw, he conquered’ fit the man to a T. Right from the time when he refused to be a drinks-bearer for his teammates, attitude has been the king for Saurav Ganguly. Not everyone can possess such an attitude.

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And what really makes me feel a fool is the fact that almost everyone here seems to be bent upon getting into the Guinness Book of World Records for not having even a single crease on their (cotton ) saris, or better still, for showing others what perfection in sari donning is. It seems to be a sari wearing competition every Thursday out here.

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How funny it is, to be outwitted by an inanimate thing, which is by no means more powerful than you, neither any such ferocious creature to speak of, that too time and again. I am talking about my wonderful experiences with that 6 yard wonder, the sari, of course. I never knew the sari to be so powerful that it could outsmart me.

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Can you imagine it?

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"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going t

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THE TALE OF FATHER CHRISTMAS

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The tale of the Christmas plant

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The tale of the Christmas tree

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Peace pudding hot
Peace pudding cold
Peace pudding in the pot
Nine days old
Some like it hot
Some like it cold
Some like it in the pot
Nine days old

Mary had a little lamb
Its fleece was white as snow
And everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go.

Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?
I have been to London to look at the Queen

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