Ooty, seasons, Short Stories

Oh cuckoo, shall I call you a bird or a wandering voice?

Aesthetic sense! Yeah, that is it… A thing of beauty is a joy for ever. A garden with multi-coloured flowers and green meadows or even wild growth of trees and plants dancing to the tune of small birds which fly hither and tither in search of fruits or some tiny ponds ( may be to watch fishes).
A dull evening and certain uninteresting news items forced me to put down the day’s Newspaper but my eyes rested on an article and the accompanying lovely picture of a garden in Europe. The article was written by an Indian lady in an English daily and was as beautiful and inspiring as the title and the picture.
As I was reading this article, the dull moments withered into oblivion and I came to the conclusion that it is absolutely necessary to create aesthetic sense in every one irrespective of whether so and so is a student or a politician or a businessman.

Author: P U Krishnan

First things first. I am one of those retired chaps who are young at heart. I watch cricket matches and jump for joy when Tendulkar scores yet another century. I read newspapers and books too, though I am not crazy about them. I think I have a mind free from hatred and I owe it to the wonders of nature and music. I scribble something now and then and call myself a writer! Though I have settled in Ooty, a lovely hill station in Tamil Nadu—I must emphasize the fact that I was born and brought up in Tellicherry in North Kerala and studied in the good old Government Brennen College. Of and on, my mind goes back to my ancestral house at Tiruvangad in Tellicherry in front of an ancient Sri Ram temple. I am indebted to this wonderful place which inculcated in me a love for cricket and literature. But all said and done, I am an Indian first.

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