The Starting point...

         My childhood days were at another town. Now I have no links.. after the the sudden demise of my father. The home ... the same house appears even in my today dreams. Long 24 years, I did not see the inners of the house again. It belongs to my father's employer. For me, the employers and their family is very close to my world, even today. I did not see them for almost twenty years. The Babu Dr who called me "Vallu, Dillkhush". He is no more. The Bapaiah dr who gave me a shirt, laughing machine ( I am not very sure, or its from Babu Dr) after his trip from abroad. The பெரிய  டாக்டர்- my  father used to tell me that he is fond of me.
          The thinking of the town brings the memories of my father, the HOME. I still believe my father is alive there , so the house. The room at which my father used to write accounts is my dwelling. It stores tons of story books and it was a heaven to me.
          The main room, where you cant miss the early morning "Vandee Maadaram" from radio, the smell of oil which my father use,he is a very systematic man, rolls his shirt, combing the hair, with right hand three or more times and with left hand. Very affectionate man.
           The dining where we used to have our food together, it brings sweet memories of the imitation of my brother like my father, my father's plate, it has a dent and it rolls which gives irritation to my father, the dosaa, mango avaiyal,delicious food.
          And the Anna, who used to take me to cinema and all. He is very lovable character and I am very much attached to him. Now all are as memories only.
         
     

I have missed my native .......

  My village, surrounded by mountains. The wind always make me fear during nights. I cant walk on the road with my hair combed, with dothi around me in a proper way. The wind is more powerful. It some times make you to find walking difficult. I cant here somebody calling, even standing very nearby. The climate is lovable.
The forest fire seen as the crown in the mountain, or as a border line, from my house. Just doing nothing and here the sound of the wind.... it changes the direction, sometimes synchronises with rain.
               Apart from the climate, the wells, pumbsets - perennial , you cant see your foot dirty, washing cloths are easy and perfect.
               Then comes hotels, rasa vadas, egg thosais,appams, bajjis very affordable prices.
               Friends, play cards, giving you seems to be a life time support,care, friendship, ready to spend with 24 x 7, to criticize literature, politics, all things under the sun. Now i am thinking of சா.க(சா. கந்தசாமி) யின் "தொலைந்து  போனவர்கள்". Now I don't have touch with them, But I am remembering them all, always, the classmates, then my best friends who used walk with me as a inseparable team. Ours friendship lost for years, and I hope the job, marriage, the geographical distance make us separated, but we are still friends, Upon union, I hope we will spent the same time,the same warmness to be shown, the same intimacy still felt.
              Then comes my brothers friends, they are very seniors to me, giving me a kind of protection, always the help seeked is rendered, used to come almost everyday and asks how things are going.