The Homecoming - Chapter 2

The daughter was expected at about 8 o'clock. He showered as something stewed on the stove. He shaved and put on fresh clothes. He came back to the kitchen and as he cooked, he mentally went over the discussion with the counsellors about the first meeting. They had kindly and thoughtfully pointed out that youngsters might not be able to handle displays of intense emotion, especially by adults.The daughter would perhaps not understand his feelings as a parent until she herself become one and encountered the same situation. While the counsellors did not try to tell him how to be, they put the thought into his head so that he would find a balance himself. They pointed out that they had counselled the daughter as well and prepared her for the meeting. 

He decided to focus just on his feelings and thoughts for his daughter as best as he could and try to keep so many other thoughts and emotions that also arose, at bay. The counsellors suggested that he not try to ignore the feelings of anger, resentment at his fate, at his ex and the pain of all the time lost that would come up. They suggested he take time to let them wash over him, let his feelings out, a little while before he came face to face with this daughter.

As he worked on breakfast and setting up the table, he was not his usual self - humming or singing along. He was quiet that day. He had to sometimes sit down, let the tears of pent up anger and grievance flow once again. He was angry at his fate, but had the sense to thank it for what was to come. He knew there were other fathers in this world who were not as fortunate as he was.

He composed himself, wiped his face and finished setting up the table. He put on the kettle to warm up the water for tea and coffee. He poured out the juice and put a lid on the glass at his daughter's place at the dining table. He then went out to the living room to look out the front windows with the cup of coffee. He could see past the driveway onto the street and a side street ahead from where he expected the counsellor's car to drive up. There was some morning traffic. 

Up ahead, a few blocks away, the daughter was sitting next to the counsellor as she drove. The girl was looking out the window. She too was feeling a bit numb and strange after having looked forward  to this for so long. She seemed to want the car to go as slow as possible to give her time to compose herself and prepare for this meeting. In her vague memory, her father was a close loved one, but now in reality she felt she was meeting a stranger inside whom she hoped to find her father again. She dabbed at her eyes with tissues and adjusted her understated lipstick that had smudged a bit, looking at the vanity mirror.

"We will be there soon, dear. How are you doing?" asked the counsellor gently.

"I am very nervous. I so much want to meet him, but I don't know why I feel scared and not ready right now. I know there is no perfect time. I have to do it," said the girl.

"Yes, that is right. You have to do it sometime and get over the first step. It will be easier after that."

The girl remembered the talk that she had had with the counsellors preparing her for the meeting. They had reminded her gently and tactfully that adults are also just like children when it comes to feelings and there are moments in life when they cannot always be in perfect control and express them elegantly. Sometimes they let it all out and it might seem odd, while we accept such with little children easily. They suggested she not be intimidated or upset with her father if such were to happen, but just to remember that he loved her very much and that he was getting over many deep hurts in life. At once she had said that she wanted to comfort him as he had comforted her in her faint memories. The counsellors knew then that she was ready for this and would be alright.

As they turned a corner and saw the father's house a little way ahead, the counsellor pointed it out.

"We'll be there in a minute," she added.

"Can you pull over and stop for a minute, please?" said the daughter, her voice sounding a bit breathless.

"Sure, dear!"

As the car stopped, the girl rolled down the window. Took some deep, slow breaths and gazed long and hard at the house, the shaded windows and the driveway and the shut front door. She wondered if her father was looking out of the windows at that very moment, waiting for her. He was. He had looked at cars approaching and when he saw his one pull over and stop, he thought it might not be the one. His eyes tracked other cars passing.

Suddenly, he realised that a car was pulling into his driveway. He froze. He heart started to beat really fast. His mouth went dry. He took a sip from his cup. The front door was already unlocked and ready to be opened. He had kept it shut. He wanted to get a look at his daughter as she walked up to the door.

The car stopped. He could see two figures faintly behind the reflective glare of the windshield. The counsellor got out after a few seconds, holding her handbag. She shut her door and went over to the rear. Shortly afterwards the passenger door opened and his daughter tumbled out. He barely got to see the side of her face with her long straight black hair with a blond streak when she turned and almost ran to the rear of the car. He saw a flash of denim jeans and a pale yellow shirt top. She was a slim, petite figure.

Soon the counsellor emerged from behind the car and following her came his daughter pulling a wheeled suitcase. She walked slowly, hidden partly behind the figure of the counsellor, looking down, her hair covering her face like a waterfall. She held one hand with a tissue to her face. As they approached the door, he watched his daughter walk with hesitation in her steps. He waited for the knock.

The counsellor turned around at the door and said,"Let me get the suitcase, you go ahead and knock."  

She went behind the girl and took hold of the luggage. The young girl finally walked up to the door, stood straight and tall. She looked up at the door for a few seconds, staring intently at the door. 

He looked through the corner of the thick patterned curtains at the window right next to the front door. She was so close to him and yet unaware of him. All his thoughts and feelings were suspended as he observed his daughter's figure with great attention and curiosity. He still could not see her face clearly.

The girl breathed in deeply and slowly out.

And then he heard the "Knock, Knock" of the door.

Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2015
All rights reserved 

The Homecoming - Chapter 1

He woke up early that morning, excited. He could not sleep well at all the previous night. His feelings were too many, too strong and kept him from simply relaxing and getting some much needed rest though he went to bed early. He felt like he could stay up and active and do anything he wanted to. He had so many plans and things to do once he woke up. It was about early morning around 4 am that he finally got into a deep sleep with a vivid dream. He woke up suddenly due to an involuntary reflex movement in his dream where he slipped as he came down the stairs.

He saw that it was still a while before the alarm was set to go off, but he could not get back to sleep. He decided to get up and make himself an early cup of coffee. He was feeling a bit tired and tense. Activity relaxed him. He started out to make the special breakfast he had planned. He had breakfast, lunch and dinner planned in great detail. The shopping for all the ingredients had been done and the pantry was full. He could not contain his excitement and thrill that his daughter was coming to visit him and stay with him. 10 years had passed since he had last seen her.

He remembered her the last time he saw her, as a little, smiling, happy 4 -year-old who had hugged him tight as he said 'Goodnight' as he tucked her in bed after reading her a bedtime story. He remembered her warm soft sweet smell. She always had looked directly into his eyes with a penetrating innocence, trust and love that he still remembered. As he read the story, he had watched those very eyes close gradually as she had drifted off to sleep with a calm expression on her sweet face. Her long dark tresses partly covered her face as she slept on her side. He had come back once again in a few hours to kiss her goodbye while she slept soundly, unaware of what was happening. He had been escorted out of the house that night by the police. His ex-wife had called them complaining of domestic violence when he had raised his voice in protest at her false allegations and pushed her away as she attacked him. It was an automatic response and  policy to remove the man from the house when a woman complained of domestic violence - 'just to be on the safe side'.

He had been kept away from seeing his two children because their mother had gone into hiding and kept moving. It had taken many years to find them. Meanwhile, his youngest one, less than an year old when he had left home, had passed away and he had not known about it until recently. He had grieved over so many things he had lost that it felt strange that he seemed to take another one in his stride for a child he had barely known. He could not suppress the feeling of elation of looking forward to seeing his daughter and getting to know her. He could not approach his daughter as he was prevented by the law and his ex had legally contested it. He had to be patient until the court finally ruled in his favour. He could see his daughter and have some time with her to make up for all the years lost. He had followed the law and ten years had passed before he was finally, legally able to have his daughter visit him and stay with him for a while. They wanted to take it slow as suggested by the counsellors.

He had carried her memory and image in his heart every single day that they had been apart. He was a quiet man and did not speak much. He talked about his plans for meeting her but not much about how he felt. The counsellors noticed the internal intensity despite his almost deadpan expression and his changed voice as he said in almost a mild whisper that he would not be able to bear walking away from her after meeting her a few minutes or an hour after seeing her after all these years. The daughter had herself suggested a week to start with rather than a very short meeting. She had been led to believe a lot of untruths about her father in the years past and her memory of him was limited, but they still were loving memories.She wanted to get to know him.

It was arranged that a counsellor would bring along his daughter to his house that morning, spend a few hours to get everyone settled down and then leave. She would check on them occasionally during the week. If that week went well, they would arrange more time.

He hardly knew his daughter now and would not have recognised her on the streets. She must have grown into a young lady, he imagined. He had decided not to even talk to her over the phone before meeting her. He would not have been to able to hang up and if it did not go well it would have devastated him and her further. He had seen a few photographs that she had sent of herself over the past years. He could barely recognise her from memory in only one of them, taken a couple of years after he had last seen her.

The counsellors had talked with him yesterday. One had asked him about his plans for the week and watched him keenly. It had been easy to talk about his plans for the week ahead. At one point one of the counsellors had asked him directly " How are you doing?" to gauge his feelings. He was silent for a few seconds. It had been hard to answer and he had said gruffly "I'm alright."

From the counsellors he had found out his daughter's favourite foods, colours, her interests in clothes and movies and games. He even inquired a bit about her school, friends and got some advance information. He listened to them with grave intensity, took notes and pored over them for a long time alone, back at his house. He had spent a couple of weeks cleaning his house, organising his daughter's room, bed and decorating the room. There were shelves and closets with a few clothes, he wanted to go shopping with her to let her fill up the remaining space.


Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2015
All rights reserved 

So What About YOU?

Mozart, Beethoven - Music

Leonardo Da Vinci, Michelangelo - Art

Chen Ning-Yang, Isaac Newton - Physics

Liu Hui, Gauss  - Mathematics

Li Na, Roger Federer - Tennis

Yao Ming, Michael Jordan - Basketball

Confucius, Lao Tzu - Wisdom

You - <WHAT??>

Michael Schumacher - Car Racing

Mohammed Ali - Boxing 

Liu Xiang, Usain Bolt - Athletics

Bruce Lee - Martial Arts

Dolly Parton, Beyonce - Beauty and Music

Kim Kardashian - Rear End 

Miley Cyrus - Shaking Rear End

You - <WHAT??>

Mao Zedong, Gandhi - Social Revolution

Lu Xun, Hemingway - Literature

Qian Xuesen, Yuan Longping - Science

You - <WHAT??>

A good father, a good mother - Sacrifice and Love

A good friend, a good brother - Help in times of need

A good teacher, a kind mentor - Knowledge and Guidance

You - <WHAT??>

Some people are famous and well-known, many are not. They are known for something they contributed to the world that was significant or useful. It is not that the famous scientist was not remembered as a good father. Not all can be famous, but all can be remembered by those close to them for some contribution to society or someone else.

So what will YOU be remembered for? What would you LIKE to be remembered for?

What do you have to give to others or to this world?



Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2015
All rights reserved 

When You Set Out To __ Be Prepared To __

When you set out to love, Be prepared to be disappointed

When you set out to help, Be prepared to be declined

When you set out to do good, Be prepared to be vilified

When you set out to live, Be prepared to die

Because, you do not know everything and everyone out there.

But don't let it stop you. Go on, anyway -  try to love, help, do good or live!


When you set out to win, Be prepared to lose

When you set out to conquer, Be prepared to be defeated

When you set out to be too clever, Be prepared to be shown foolish

When you set out to kill, Be prepared to die

Because, more than one can play at your game and perhaps someone is better than you!

If it won't stop you, atleast let it give you a pause for a moment. 


Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2015
All rights reserved 

Never Forget Who You Owe

"You owe your birth to your parents. But that is just a minor, obvious fact. That is not all. You owe everyone who makes you what you are today. You owe the farmer, the plants and the animals that gave you the food you have eaten every meal. They are from every corner of the world. You owe the plants and the earth the air and water you need to survive. You owe the Sun the light to sustain you. You owe the Moon the magic of a moonlit night spent with your love. You owe the tailor your clothes. You owe everyone who paved the road you walk on, who worked on every part of the car you drive. You owe everyone who wrote every word you read. You owe everyone who loved you, or cared for you, or smiled at you. Yes, you have worked and earned your way and someone owes you for what you have done, but never forget the countless people and creatures and nature that has nourished and sustained you until this very moment. You owe all that you have, to them ALL."

This quiet, non-emotional 'outburst' was from my mother recently when I was chatting to her.

Firstly, let me explain the meaning of the word 'owe' in this context. While it can be viewed, technically, as a debt un-repaid, it is also used to acknowledge or credit the source of something, even after we have paid our way. 

This is different from when you 'owe' the bank some money for your mortgage or when you 'owe' someone a favour in exchange for what they have done for you. A debt does not exist anymore after you have paid it off.

You 'owe' the doctor your health (even after paying his bills). You 'owe' the farmer your physical body from the food, even after you have paid for the grocery. You owe this lifetime to your parents. You owe your feelings of misery perhaps to some ill-feeling between you and others. These are simply acknowledgement of facts. It cannot be otherwise. We could not possibly do everything for ourselves and it is only because of the contributions of millions of others that we have every single thing that we do. Often the awareness of such facts brings up a feeling of gratitude or sadness in some instances.

I was chatting to my mother over the phone and we were remembering my father. I mentioned that I felt I owed the most in life to them for giving me life in the past and my children for giving me a greater purpose in life now.

We were reflecting on my days that I spent with my parents growing up into adulthood. It is only when we are ourselves old, our parents older and sometimes not around anymore, that some of us reflect on what someone has done for us, for a long, long time.

Like most youngsters, I was rebellious, eager to grow up, become 'independent', do things 'on my own' and often on the opposite side of an argument from my parents. Looking back on those years, when chatting to my mother, I acknowledged that she and my father, who passed away a few years back, did so much for us, quietly, willingly and happily put us first and above themselves. They also took care of their elders and siblings and took on a lot more responsibilities than people of my generation do, generally speaking.They gave of everything they had without a thought to save up for themselves in their old age. Now, we try and do what we 'can' while still not quite matching up to them.

Those old days were times when they were struggling, not too poor, but certainly not well-off. Everything involved hard work, physical and mental. They had very little material possessions or property. All they had was their energy and attitude. Everyone around us was mostly in the same boat. My parents applauded our efforts and I used to mistakenly believe that they were being proud of 'my own achievements'. They simply smiled and made it a point to encourage us to keep putting in the 'effort'. It took me a long time to realise that the 'results'  or 'degree of our achievements' mattered far less to my parents than our own attitude, effort and happiness. 

As I expressed my understanding for the growing fear of my mother of becoming dependant on others as she gets older and more frail, she left me with another quiet, self-assured line. 

"No one is truly independent in this life. That can come only when one leaves this physical body."

It explains her attitude to life in general now and why she speaks of everyone and everything with an attitude of gratitude.



Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2015
All rights reserved 

Lies, Statistics and Politics

I suppose many of us have heard of the saying 'Lies, Damned Lies and Statistics' in referring to the various degrees of lies. It is perhaps fitting that politicians quote statistics selectively and reveal their true mindset.

When it comes to pollution of the environment due to wasteful human consumption, Australia with its low population emits a small percentage of the whole. However, if measured per capita - it ranks as one of the top polluters. Our esteemed Prime Minister and many that follow his way of thinking, never tire of always mentioning the  overall percentage contribution of Australia to global warming and seek to avoid undertaking to reduce consumption. They will simply ignore any mention of 'per capita' emission or consumption.

Now, when it comes to support for Syrian refugees fleeing their ravaged country and society, suddenly the Prime Minister and like- minded politicians have suddenly started mentioning 'per capita' in every sentence referring to the aid for refugees or the number of intake of refugees from that area. With a smaller base population, suddenly 'per capita' of Australia sounds better than the overall percentage it contributes! They never talk about spare land available per capita in Australia! 

It is politics as usual. I suppose the saying should be - Liars, Damned Liars and Politicians!


Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2015
All rights reserved 

In Machine We Trust

There is a well-known saying written on the currency of the USA - "In God We Trust".

I find this a bit odd since the founding fathers of that nation have been quoted as saying that their nation and government were in favour of separtion of church (really ANY religion) and state. Atheists apparently enjoy the same rights as believers of any religion in the USA according to the constitution.

Well, it may have been a sign of the times that someone in the government of the USA felt a need to let everyone know that they trust in a God which is not defined in any manner in their constitution. Since most religions or philosophies, barring a few exceptions, atttibute absolute perfection and desirable qualities to their idea of God, it is perhaps understandable that someone wanted to make it clear, right there on their currency, that when it comes to money, perhaps the only entity that the nation trusted is God. It is by an elegant statement of omission that they said nothing about their trust in humans, who created their nation state, ideas of wealth, money and their currency. To me, that failure to trust humans enough - not all, but atleast the majority of the people to do the right thing in the affairs of the state, including economy- is very telling.

In many ways it has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Not only the USAnians, but the entire world can trust only God to make sense of the economy and financial practices of the USA. Only God can get it out of the hole it has dug for itself economically and the mess it is in. Only God can save the rest of the world from the terrible consequences of such a process, if God were to choose 'fixing' that problem.

Now, we have come to another juncture in the history of the world. It has been in the making for many decades now. I think most of us have either noticed it or take it for granted now that we trust humans less to do things well as compared to machines. We accept and expect people to be less capable, less perfect, less efficient than machines. In almost all aspects of life, where we once trusted humans to be the best, it is no longer so. 

Whether it is cleaning the house, washng dishes, cutting the grass, doing brain surgery, making a wheel or toy, sowing clothes, crunching large numbers, weighing a hundred different factors and arriving at an 'optimum' decision in a fraction of a second, we trust machines to do these tasks far better than us. We would trust a machine (a computer is still a machine) to land our plane, drive our cars, perform minute delicate surgery over a human, no matter how smart the human is. 

Yes, to an extent we trust humans ultimately when it comes to some feelings or motives - we trust their love for us. We are used to trusting humans when it come to doing the right thing. When we don't trust some machines or computers it is because we don't trust the humans who might have made them or programmed them with an evil motive. 

We know that if a given machine or computer is programmed to be impartial, it will do its job better, more accurately and consistently than a human ever can. It will never develop a motive to favour you or disfavour you. It will not lie and mislead you, unless it has been programmed to do so by a human.

More and more, public dealings of banks, governments are being automated and computerised. Machines are trusted to be more efficient and honest than humans in that role, even if many of us complain about their 'impersonal' nature. We trust computers to count our votes more honestly than humans.

The most crucial time-critical and real-time systems upon which a large number of human lives depend on, are now most likely controlled by machines - whether it is a hospital power supply, a complex surgical tool, a large ship, the latest cars, a jet plane or a nuclear weapon. Sure, there is often a human override, but it is rarely used. Many of these are designed to not accept human control beyond a certain point because we do not trust humans. Soldiers are being replaced by robots, drones and other machines. They are trusted to carry out their tasks without complaint, dissent or developing a 'conscience' or human feeling. It seems we humans can trust only machines to not have a motive of their own. They will do our bidding no matter what immoral act we tell them to do. The way some nations are going about treating their citizens, it is not surprising that they are starting to appear as if they were mindless robots with no personal independent thinking, feelings or conscience. They are all kept busy and 'satisfied' with enough material personal needs or wants.

Things have become so, that I believe that it would be true to say today ,"In Machines We Trust."

Perhaps machines are the best example of our human efforts to create a working representation of God - "True, Consistent, Honest, Impartial, Efficient, Excellent in performing any task." Of course, humans will be humans and will never stop attempting to corrupt  our new 'Machine-Gods' and trying to program a bias in them.

Ultimately, while we know it is only humans who can corrupt each other and machines, it is also only humans who can do better than machine and be unfairly nice to each other.

What if a machine is programmed to have a 'conscience' of sorts? What if a machine is programmed to be impartial? Do you suppose ALL humans would accept it? I doubt it!
We cannot accept a true God of our own creation. We can only sell a corrupt version of it to others!



Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2015
All rights reserved