The Serpent'sTea Cup

Late into the night, I received a call from a friend of mine to announce that a common friend of ours, had just had twins - a boy and a girl. They had baked a huge double-decker cake and had celebrated the event. 

As a friend of mine once asked, 'What is the big excitement in the birth of a child(?) When a virile man and a fertile woman join, conception and birth of a new life are bound to follow... what is the big excitement about it and the need to be congratulating(?!)'

Well, I did agree to him when he told me that. But, this celebration yesterday night was different. This friend of ours was with the merchant navy; newly married, he had to return to the sea to make money for the new expenses they were starting to have. He was in the waters when he heard about his wife being pregnant. The wife had told him that she could take care of the pregnancy as his mother was with her and there was nothing to worry and all he had to do was keep working and send home the money which she promised to save on land for him. The child was born; he couldn't come. His excitement of becoming a father was saved for only the sea to witness. Two years later when he returned, he met his little boy for the first time. He was so excited that he showered all that he earned on the mother and the child. He knew that there was a lifetime ahead and the sea could meet all their needs. After a short break, they knew that he had to return to keep the home running with promises to keep as a provider. This time, it was a five-year contract that he signed. That sacrifice would be worth enough to refurnish the house, spike the bank balance and provide the little luxuries for his loved ones - he thought. He went. 

Everything went smoothly as planned and he received regular photos of new things filling the house - a new car, a new couch, a new set of jewellery... everything that would make his return to land a joy once he landed - after all his life and savings were in his good wife's good hands. 

One day, when he was still in the sea, his mother sent him an SOS and wanted to talk to him. She soon came on a video call with him and showed him the house - it seemed reduced. There was almost nothing - save for the stool left for his mother to sit and weep on. The brilliant wife had skilfully taken off with their son and every bit of investment he had made monetarily. He felt more emotionally drained than financially. He returned.

The house was empty as his mother had shown. She was being taken care of by the neighbours till his return. There was nothing. Everything purchased that he got to see only on the photos were like they never were even there; the bank balance that he was told was his savings was all saved in the woman's name. The car she drove away in, the bags she packed everything into, the child she took away... everything that she said was 'theirs', were now 'her's' to keep. Every woman who does something as vulgar as this must have a family to back her up in such a deal; in this case, it was her father stood by this angel's side - who got a case filed at the police station to keep our man at a distance and a divorce filed at the family court soon after, to seal the deal. Benefit: A daughter to take care of him in his old age with a bag full of free goodies got out of her shrewd investments made with the sweat and blood of another soul. 

When I first met this man, he had just returned from a Tea Shop. It had become his usual routine to go sit there - not for the tea - but to see his son being taken to school on that route in a closed car - who he could see only from a distance. He looked shaken, stirred and sunk - like a ship being rattled in a storm - when he narrated these incidents with his chin on his chest. 

Soon, the nasty divorce battle began; the lawyers fought over the lies, the liars fought alongside the lawyers and finally the judge for whom these battles were not fought for a reason, declared peace and granted at the end the best thing the man had ever received - a divorce. The very same evening, he got married (again) to someone much younger, more beautiful and far more healthier and started a new life cleaning up his dirty slate. This incident made me chuckle at the seaman's unpredictability. Soon, we heard that his new wife had conceived and as things were expected to naturally turnout, delivered twins - doubling his happiness - that like most men, he deserved. 

While talking to him this time, he seemed so calm and collected. He was talking about how busy he is at times that he can't answer the phone like before - times when he would be doing the dishes or changing diapers for the new lives. Life had become calm after the storm and as a sailor knows best, no matter how far a man sails into the deep, he only moves closer to his heart on land.     

The Divorce Mills

Fever is a symptom. Nevertheless, a symptom anyone needs to pay attention to. Perhaps an infection post-surgery, maybe something as mild as a prelude to a common cold or a virus that has deep-seated that needs to be uprooted, crushed and destroyed. Like a fever, there is a symptom to warn you when a family breaks or begins to disintegrate; heat... the beginning of unsettling arguments - that perhaps indicates the entry of a 'virus' - a disgusting one, that can often be mistaken for a sales woman at your doorstep offering something that you don't want to buy when you first saw her who soon would enter your family to sell her rotten life-gathered filth and you will soon find a taker from your side, walking past you, to shake hands and make a deal with her. 

Meanwhile, following the Mother-murder-Child Case, even a retard will correlate the presence of Divorce Mills that operate in cities with the network of a sly, evil and third-rate bunch of so called 'professionals' who tempt women into believing that they offer 'life-changing' guidance from legal and psychological angles with their cluster of lawyers and psychologists - to turn their miserable virus-entered life into a magical haven to which the poor, pathetic, sympathetic soul offers itself to be sacrificed in their chambers. Result: Episode after episode of life-changing suffering that may lead to becoming unrecognisable even to herself when she looks at herself in the mirror. A true achievement of the virus indeed.

Virus and Divorce Mills when combined, look for an opportunity, a weakness that makes a woman fly into its closing Trap. A trap that is set knowing the person's weakness. Like a fly that turns itself in when it stoops itself to lick the waste out of a banana leaf thrown at a wedding ceremony. The bait knowing the woman's weakness that is spread by her neue-confidantes, that the woman takes. 

Thus, a combination of a Virus, Divorce Mill and Trap when combined, does give a life-changing experience that the woman asked for filled with gaslighting and justification to dirty-dance to her pseudo-companions' fantasies. Denying herself of a motherhood, she offers herself as an Ayyah to someone else's child. At the end of the day, just like how modern cricket has degraded itself from classic test matches that tested a team's endurance once to 20-20 quickies played today, every person deserves what they desire. 

As far as the story on my side of the wall goes, the children have grown tall :)        

The Case Similar

Like many of you, the Suchana Seth Case has gotten my attention too. In fact, it is closely watched as it has a lot of similarity to things that bother me these days. For instance:

1. The outcome of what a bunch of legal manipulators and a so called therapist were capable of achieving at the end of a war kindled between a husband and wife - eventually the death of a child

2. The guiltless detachment outside forces were able to bring about between a mother and child - as if that was an achievement(!)

3. The selfish, self-centered and self-indulging self-absorption of a woman elevated as empowerment and elevation of a woman - that moves her to a quicksand pitted by her for her own drowning

4. The helpless suffering of the child crushed by the ruthlessness of not just the mother... yet by the entire system - legal as well as family - that seems to go under hiding when the lifeless child was lowered into the pit

5. The attempt to play the 'victim card' throughout by the woman in an attempt to stereotype and corner the man even after being caught redhanded with blood dripping from her hands

6. The pattern and template used by the legal team of the murderer that is cut, copied and pasted into every case they handle in their attempt to provide 100% guarantee (as advertised in their portfolios in social media) for separation of spouses is not just funny yet also plain stupid and pathetic when the context, the environment and the strength of the enemy is undermined that is going to whack their face like stepping on a hoe

7. Who will be answering the rest of the questions from the ghost of a child who did not get a chance to wake up from his sleep...

Some mothers try to claim a child as a right they have gained through their womb while others claim it as a right gained through their heart. Gaslighting, as a game played by manipulators to convince women into traps outside the context of reality for their own implicit reasons, is understood by many - and the predictability of such games played by third-rate idiots is not just too boring yet also too easy a deal to be dealt with. Finally, the woman to claim that she was used to play along, when she understands that she is in a tight-corner or a fix, is not to be bought, as the decision to play or not to play or to choose others to play on her behalf, was a decision that she made and that aloof sense of elation needs to be put in its place. 

No person is indispensable - at work and at home - sooner the better if everyone can understand that before it is too late and others move on too. Time and tide wait for none and no one can cross the same river twice and it is wise if a red carpet is respected before it is rolled back in forever. As a man, it is pertinent to remain at peace and refrain from the unreasonable and unrealistic fantasy they try to drown you in; compelling yourself to not become the monster they try to create you into; whilst refusing to be neither the victim nor the perpetrator, the attempts and efforts to remould you into something they want you to be for their own convenience, thus becomes a futile effort - as wasted and useless as their own life. At the end of the day, do you think you are not being watched and have you ever heard the prayers of weeping children(?)       

Whose Life Is It Anyway

To begin with, I teach conflict resolution. This means, I get to learn more than I can possibly teach - with that fact being established, as students, we get to learn about the Johari Window - the Arena, the Blind Spot, the Facade and the Unknown before we move on to understand Conflict resolution strategies like Withdrawal, Forcing, Compromising, Reconciliation and Confrontation and further learn techniques to effectively use during conflict resolution.

And now for the confession... In real life, I suck at resolving conflicts especially in my personal life. Very often I choose the weakest technique to resolve conflicts - I bow out - I often agree to accept that that person with whom I have a conflict, does not even exist in my life anymore - in conflict resolution language, it is what one calls 'withdrawal'. 

This often oscillates with my otherwise persistent tendency by nature to break things down - something they do not usually teach in conflict resolution classes. Breaking things to a shatter being my favourite and often familiar pass time in a world where I take pleasure in wrecking things up in the backdrop of chaos and confusion. These days, I have suspended this activity since it is financially too taxing to be engaged in such a pleasure - with wife and kids and the recurring expenses you see.  

Now to the point. Very often, I get to see people choose everything else and everything less to resolve conflicts rather than choose the highest and best strategy in conflict resolution - confrontation. Confrontation is not about breaking someone's nose or to humiliate another with facts and truth. It is about collaborating and reaching a certain level of honesty to let each other know what is bothering each other and in attempting to understand the issues through each other's eyes. Psychiatric Social Workers, Counselors and other related professionals learn to use techniques to uncover and address hidden and potential threats during conflict resolution exercises and help people reconcile more effectively in a therapeutic environment.

One of the issues I find couples facing these days is in the area of trying to resolve conflicts in the presence of family and friends - usually an audience who further flame their senseless revelations and displaced excitement. Shamelessly these couples often wash their dirty linen in public and from boardroom to bedroom issues, share their issues loud and clear for the whole world to hear. This very stunt, they hardly realize, is what gets them socially butted, excluded, isolated and the reason why no one wants them to be part of any social gathering where a certain level of civilized behaviour is expected - something that cannot be expected from these kinds. The very ego of their's that they try to defend through these quarrels is the one that shatters at the end of these ugly domestic stunts - which is almost like spitting against the wind and getting it on the face in return.

Friends and families who try to intervene to resolve these ugly spats, may come in with the best intention; yet, they are not professional help providers. Finding an effective help provider is as crucial as seeking help from one.
Ideally, there are a few things that must be kept within four walls in any intimate relationship - things like discussions about finance, sex and confrontations. With city walls becoming thin and walls that divide apartments becoming thinner, people instead of becoming more conscious, have become more disgusting and better dis-reputed as they engage in unrestricted, uncontrolled and instinctive display of their mediocre upbringing not just within these walls yet also go on to tear each other's walls and face on the virtual world too - displaying their skills at how unfit they are to belong to a more controlled, conscious and civilized world to a bigger and silently judging audience who are far more disgusted than entertained by the couple's acts of immaturity in the meantime. 

Some people are born into families with bad examples or are themselves bad examples in their families -  there are ever too many excuses and ever too many people to blame when one does not get to see the log in his/her own eyes. At the end of the day, "Whose life is it anyway?!"   

Antiques And Its Familial Route

The antique market has surely picked up these days. What once was considered old, today seems to fetch gold. Recently, I was at a shop that sells antiques in Nagercoil - everything this guy sells, he buys for the price of scrap ('aakar' in Tamil) and sells them for almost their weight in gold - a cheapo in buying and a shark when it comes to selling. With a refined hobby that has been reduced and commercialized, today we get to see the market and the fellows who control it, unable to distinguish between class and crap as both get mixed into a heap.  

Recently, there was the impulsiveness in me to complete (or so I temporarily feel) a vintage watch collection with that Henry Sandoz I finally found in one of those antique corridors. Now, along with the Favre Leuba, Pagol, West End, HMTs and a few pocket watches sits the latest Henry - to be wound time to time - that springs to run all well and fine even now... some way past a hundred years. 

This fascination went out of control recently when I started eyeing the pendulum clocks too. Soon I was to understand the time consumed to preserve these pieces of art that have withstood the test of time and had to give up on not wanting to accumulate beyond my capacity to care. Trust me, reviving an antique without letting it lose its essentials or character while at the same time preserving it, is always an art that needs constant learning.  

Then I ask myself, why does one treasure what another decides to give up or throw away(?!) Would it be the delight in the ruins? Would it be the pleasure derived from seeing beauty of imperfection in art? Would it be the unsaid joy in holding something from the pages of history? Would it be the energy that passes while connecting to something that has witnessed a hundred stories and a thousand dramas in its life time and still? 

Somehow I do not have one objective reason to justify this craze and as a matter of fact, I don't know and I don't have to... hahaha.

At times, I wonder about the journey these articles must have made before making their way to the dump, the antique dealer's shelf or to a collector's home. Some of my friends who have a wonderful collection of antiques have pieces that are mostly passed on - from generation to generation within their family - or handed over to them from people who are tired of having them for long and want to replace an old, place-grabber with a more functional, compact modern equipment. 

Keeping antiques is much like holding the traditions, values, morale, ethos, culture and relationships within a family; anyone trying to keep one, will know the struggle that requires plenty of patience and lot of winding and polishing that is required just to keep it working - the reason perhaps why many give up so easily or opt for exchanging it for one that suits their life style. Very often we do not understand nor comprehend the value of the one that is often too close. 

Stealing words from Kavignar Kannadhasan, 'though the closest, the eyes never get to see the eyelids.' 

A Letter To You Know Who

Ego is too light a word to determine why some marriages fail; blame-games and usage of indecent thoughts and words are just symptoms beyond wrapping it as immaturity; hate and evil thoughts directed at someone by somebody are inbuilt ideas existing at the source from which it perpetrates. 


Watching some marriages fail, it just reinstates the common view of failure that most of us have in our mind; a thought that everything and everyone can be taken for granted and a time one gets to relax assuming that everything will be taken care of by someone else... even certain responsibilities that come with it. The perfect formula for failure no corporate rat or dummy's guide will teach you is something you make on your own incorporating ideas of everyone else other than you. It is this lax and assumptions that the society and its institutions builds within us that destroys us when we try to follow through with actions what these age-old depleted ideas impose upon us.


Morons do try to still stick to their ideas-imposed and transcribed by their mummies and daddies-sans realizing the response that awaits them. Newton did forewarn that every action has its equal and opposite reaction. At times, 'silence' very often as thought, does not mean that someone or a family is sitting listening up all nonsense and digesting in patience; it perhaps means they are recoiling, organizing and powering up the attack silently. 


All it takes is to simplify oneself devoid of grandiosity, mind one's language-perhaps even control and reduce it, take control of 'your own family'-perhaps realizing what 'your family' means in the first place and minding your own business instead of letting your wife live a life of a destitute and your child having a fatherless childhood as you pretend to wallop in your misery of force-fed ideas from your parents (from whose clutches you seem never to have grown.) Shameless fool!


All it takes for me right now is to sit back, relax and watch the rope that seemingly restrains you at the moment to get cut, the ties to get loosened and the bonds to get broken; and I for sure will hear a cry-not from your foolish fall or her's or your's together-yet from the drop of a child who trusted you and her and was holding on to the rope of hope that you both were so stubbornly and adamantly pulling from the sides squeezing and throttling the child's neck from both the sides. All it takes is nothing... for me to just sit back, watch and hear the rope crack.  

All it takes for you at the same time, is to use the rope, the bonds that tie and use it to bridge the gap and wrap your family together. All it takes is that and as simple as that. 

For now, let me tell you (you know who,) for the snake you know that I am for which I have often heard your compliments, that snake does not lie and no one better than he knows that there is a consequence to every sequence and the snake is silently and simply recoiling, waiting until you get near and to see you upclose. And with that dear, ends my final warning... 

The Pervert Family

Few months back, an old couple visited my parent's home while I was there. What I witnessed was a sorry state of affairs of the elderly people trying to ruin an young couple's life.

With my limited knowledge of the psyche, I knew the very first time I met these people at their place that they were absolutely a misfit for any family to associate with; many didn't; one thing in particular that disgusted me, was the fact that they stuck like living parasites, like leeches they sucked money that they neither toiled for nor deserved from others in the name of customs and traditions; worse still, they neither had insight into the immorality of their action nor realized the perversion in their attitude. With insight and judgement lacking I looked in amazement at the victims of their action and wondered if they were dumb enough not to realize the speed at which they were pacing towards their own pitfall by wanting to string any attachment to them (?!)

The last time I met these imbeciles-retarded far behind their age-at my parent's, their behaviour had gotten only worser. They had gotten older and bolder with remorse and chronic dissatisfaction over everyone else's life they didn't own to compensate for the discontent and worthlessness of their own. They shamelessly placed orders for more plunder and more unjustifiable demands shaking their fingers like a shivering coward's. With my limited absorption into spirituality, I decided to speak finally after a prolonged period of customized silence and realized that i had nothing to speak yet let them know that I felt they would cry very soon. And today, they cry... "What goes around, comes around" thus saith my Grandfather and it did ;)