Tuesday, 30 December 2014

Happy birthday Mom ( something for you )



Today is a very special day .. a very special day indeed. Not because the fabulous year 2014 is going to end and  I can sit and  countdown until twelve pm for the new year to begin. Blaah ! Millions  through the decades have worked on the excitement of the new year.But the reason why it is very special to me is because it taught me strength… it taught me hope.. it taught me love , care, forgiveness and everything I wanted to be and did not want to be. The only good thing about 31st of every year (unless its a holiday) is that its my Mothers birthday . In the journey of being my mom and handling my  insanity for 21 years. She has actually given me the self confidence that I am manageably insane.

Let me tell you a small story of my toddler self. It was a very calm afternoon. I could hear my grandma call me for lunch. The TV remote was free , my toys scattered on the floor.  I remember myself clinging to the window staring at the road.. ignoring my aunt .. ..like the very George of the jungle … time passed.... tired of my waiting I dragged the chair to the main door of our house… I waited ...waited ..waited .. zzzzzzz and finally hit the snooze button on.  Hours must have passed I heared a familiar euphony  .. could smell a comfortable and familiar smell I woke up to see my mom return from school (she was employed) for lunch. I remember sitting on her lap and staring at the cartoon book she was holding in one hand. I remember the twinkle in her eyes when she read out a line and fed me a spoonful of rice.  Sometimes later I still have a very vague memory of realizing and reading out my first word from a book sitting on her lap.
As vague and misty memories can be, one thing I can be sure of is she might have failed in making me that chubby little toddler but what she forced into me wasn’t that spoonful of rice. But something bigger than that- she opened up my world of curiosity.

She was my safer spot when the world scared me. Every lunch on Sunday or dinner time during weekdays she told us stories not of some unknown land. But the anecdotes about my own relatives.  Her childhood… her memories.  This made me grow up as a person who had eyes to see the best in people. Later when I grew up I realized the rose garden I lived also contains thorns. I noticed the flaws my relatives made. But being her daughter I had eyes only to see the roses not the thorns. She taught me how to forgive those thorns. When something bothered me what echoes in my head is just her voice quoting Jawaharlal Nehru And I reject the Indian Noise.”   

When I saw myself no longer as girl but as a knotty teenager trying to fit in the indian idealogy of a woman. When the Indian society around had different ideologies and when the indian mothers preached "The- Ideal-dutiful -ndian women-morse" to their daughter.She was one mother who recited Bharatiyaar’s puthumai pen. Made me realize I am an individual and I have my stand. Gave me choices let me stand up for them.  

Optimism was better understood not when my mom taught me Shelly’s Ode to the West Wind. But when she stands by my dad’s side through the stormy days. She taught me “Love is not love which alters when its alteration finds.”

I remember her waking up early at four finish making all the meals for the days. I remember her running to catch to bus at morning 6 am . I rember her face the world with all her might.I ve seen her travel a thousand miles to the most rural schools of tamilnadu. She taught me about self satisifaction, dedication and what it takes to make a difference in others lives. Through the stormy days or the normal ones. She and dad never made us feel the change.  Made me believe Life is not in waiting for the storm to pass but in dancing in the rain. 

Long ago  she told me “ As long as you are in my hands I want to let you live your dreams.” I saw her struggle as she said these words . For it’s a universal fact that a mother is an overprotective creatures.  I was struggling through the time when I felt let down by people I loved . So was she “Promise me that you will be bold when you might face a situation where people let you down. Promise me you wont be broken when by chance the situation returns again. For I know you are attached to your new friends now.” I could sense the fear she had but eventually she let me live my life.. make mistakes and learn from them. Standing beside as my friend seeing me fall , pick myself up and run ahead. Hiding her own expectations for me as a typical indian mother she lets me explore the world. I acknowledge those struggles she faces to see me get hurt yet sticks to her own promise to let me live my dreams. She taught me what A MOTHER can be.

People said a mother is the sacred figure of care, love and affection. She showed me  the best mom comes with an additional package of being strong, determined, never letting go of loved ones, letting go or forgiving people, having the guts to face your fears, optimistic, what it takes to be a teacher, hope, never ever to judge people, never  ever to give up …. The list goes on..

 With the IQ of a skeptic  CBI officer when it comes to my pointless dramas (which is easily identified in a jiffy) she turns out to be very haughty dangerous creature while I tend to be the pantomime drama queen. Gathering the experiences of handing such a unique species like me,she still teaches me of tolerance ,humanity and sanity.( With a sigh she might say its fate.) But mom(if you are reading this ) you really have taught me that we keep on discovering ourself everyday. Let yours continue as my mother mine as your daughter trying to drench us in the amicable drizzles and downpours.

Wednesday, 5 November 2014

And thats another butterfly effect


Caterpillar … yes! That slimy green wriggling kin of the arthropod family caught my eye as we played in the puddle. Insects … they were the last species in the world with whom I was comfortable with. But this weird green creature made me very curious. As a small kid I watched it crawl slowly on the leaves munching the same. It cAfter a few days I found that shiny bulb hanging from the leaves of our garden tree. I asked my aunt “ What’s this and where did it come from ?”. She explained me but all I understood was its called a caterpillar. It spins that bulb and sulks into it for some time and soon it emerges as a butterfly.

 As a 3 yrs old girl whose word was filled with neverland,oz and fairies. This made an huge impact in my mind ..but this was unknown to me until my teenage . never did I relalise the impact of this biography .
 My biology classes made me feel happy when I read about butterfly’s life cycle. But it has a deep psychological connection with me and I realized this only in my teenage. One fine day my friend found this shiny cocoon in our school grounds, being a science freak he showed it to me and boasted about his plans to keep it under observation. From then on I got the daily report from him about the cocoon. And one fine day I missed school. When I called he told me how beautiful it was to see the butterfly come out of the cocoon.  When I tried to visualize the whole scenario. It struck me the transition .. the quest for an identity , The faith , the perseverance.
 First stands the insignificant non attractive caterpillar ignored by the world… it keeps on munching around the leaves which is nothing but the duty  
Stage two : the cocoon. This is my favourite part, the caterpillar spins a cocoon by itself ..neglecting all the worldly ties  it sulks in .. this reminds me of the gloomy days we face ..ignored and isolated….
Third stage : Inside the cocoon it nurtures itself …this is where the transition occurs . .. the spiritual , mental and physical development we inflict upon ourselves is portrayed here..
 Final stage: the butterfly.. but this is another critical stage where it has to open it wings on itself ripping the cocoon by its own strength.. this exhibits the significance and courage to step out of our own comfort zone ..
There is a saying if you want to cross the ocean you must first have the courage to leave the shore and this is well exhibited in this case. … spreading its wings with  the slightest fumbling it glides…. Spreading its dazzling hues into the skies….. as small as it can be but the smile it spreads on peoples face is magnanimous. The significant butterfly. The mesmerizing dance they perform around a butterfly nest… charming and yeah ….worth watching than any stage show….

And all it says finally is " When winter comes can spring be far behind." People just need the faith to hold on.

Thursday, 10 July 2014

Lazy mornings

All objects in the universe tend to proceed towards a state of minimum energy... Well this is a well accepted fact. But there are instances which violate this law. Waking up every morning is an example for this weird phenomenon. Having experienced a state of minimum energy for continuous six hours one really finds it difficult to kick out of the bed. Snuggling back and lying still closings my eyes to start recapping the awesome or the awful dream I had has become my routine. Sometime I wake up to find myself smile meaninglessly or to hum a melodious tune which reverberates through my cranium the whole day. The peacefulness of lying in the bed after waking up during a Sunday morning or a rainy day is priceless. It becomes more awesome when I get to listen to the howling breeze,the rhythm of the raindrops against the puddles or the roof,inhaling the earthy fragrances. All you need to put you into a trance is just a cup of coffee..... Mmmmmmm thus starts the lazy mornings

Monday, 2 June 2014

THE SACRED IDLIS AND THE SPIDEY BIRIYANI

                                                 

"Idly" the typical south Indian dish might be the top most in most of the south Indian hotel menu card. This baked savory cake made from by steaming a batter consisting of de-husked fermented black lentils and rice is the most significant member of the south Indian breakfast items. Having a little bit of aversion to this celebrated food item neither am I going to gloat about the goodness of idlis nor am I going to write down the recipe in this blog.

Served in pairs these idlis are yoked along with different varieties of sambar,chutney and idly podi. Be it from the local snack cart, the hospital canteen, the roadside hotel, the five star restaurant one can always save time placing the orders instead of hunting through the various names of dishes.. Whoa! It always has the top position in the card or you can just place the order without even glancing at the menu card.


It’s the breakfast served at home any day of the week. In any typical south Indian feast served during celebrations and functions such as the house warming ceremony, marriages etc. .. The flat, round idlis are the ones that welcome you apart from your smiling hosts. The easy preparation is the main culprit for their fame.

My aversion to idlis has always ridiculed people. It happens to me many times I recall the very first time I said no to an IDLY

 I sat down on the corner chair of the neatly lined rows in the dining hall. Happy chattering of relatives as friends all around was filling the air with a positive energy. The catering employees were moving around in a rush. First pouring water into my glass, placing a clean green banana leaf, placing a sweet and next when he was about to serve the idly I told "No please. I don’t want them.". He looked at me with a question of "Why? “but moved on. People sitting next to me ask this question immediately “Why did you say no to the Idli?". Hearing this from every other human being I meet. I reply" simple I don’t like them" with this answer I realize I've made myself the extraterrestrial from planet " no-idlis". 

Sigh!! That’s the story of how I got used to those stares form people
After some deep research I found what makes these people like Idly. The following reasons have been given by my relatives who are the die-hard fans of Idly.
  • REASON 1: They are easily available. Easily digestible.
  • REASON 2: In the era of low quality food products Idlis have always been considered safe. Its just dough, baked and fresh at the temperature such as the steam microbes die. No oil used, No artificial flavours.
  • REASON 3: Being the brainiest person by doing such a smart work and keeping themself healthy.

Having found this out I wondered “Yeah the reasons are true. My bad !!! I still don’t like idlis.". With this I lived my life facing the taunts of people when they see me have indigestion due to bad oil in the Dosa or Puri or the food poisoning due to some other dishes. “We told you so. Behold and believe the power of the sacred Idli. You atheist!!" their chants haunted me for many years. But as we know every dog has a day. I was hoping for mine.
One fine day the miracle happened, we went on a family tour. As we were having our dinner my sister leaked out the news to me. “Do you know what happened last time in my mom’s place?" she asked I told " No I don’t! What happened?". She told "We went to buy parcel for my mom that day. The shopkeeper neatly wrapped four fluffy Idlis with chilly and coconut chutney and gave it to us. We handed it over to mom when we returned home. She opened it and started tearing a little piece of idly. After two such tries she found 2GB SANDISK MEMORY CARD. in it . " ."What????" I shrieked ." Yes. We did" My aunt joined in. " What else did you do ?" I asked laughing." We gave it back to the shopkeeper and scolded him." She said in a dull voice fiddling with the chappathi on her plate. “Oh that explains the change of your routine menu." I said. she nodded.

 Happy that the sacredness of the idli has been proved wrong by the shopkeeper’s memory card. I muttered a silent thanks to the Idly turned into a FORTUNE COOKIE well it doesnt contain the paper with a saying but sure worths more ..A 2GB memory card. I couldn’t stop smiling. But if the uncorruptable Idly can be corrupted where is the food security and the quality going towards??

This reminds me of another incident that happened a few years back.

good quality chicken biriyani
 One fine day my friend had this urge to eat good Biryani. As a loving father his dad went to buy Biriyaani from this famous shop. On returning my friend's brother eagerly opened the parcel but found a dead body of Argog's grandson staring back at him from the biryani. His dad took this to the shopowner , called the cook and showed him his marvelous spider biryani parcel.  The owner said that they were ready to replace the biryani with a new parcel.My friend's dad didn’t agree. After a huge argument he took back the money he paid for the parcel plus the petrol charges for this return trip. Happy that he evaded the chance of turning his son into Spiderman or the food poisoned spider man  he returned home. When I asked him why dint you go to the health inspector he sadly said they have a tie with a few hotels.Well we know how... What about those who ate biriyani that day from that hotel? I dont know . Now that I have narrated the episodes of the “Fortune Idly and the spidey biryani”. Let’s just be cautious not to fall into such traps and make our lives free from such Downpours





Friday, 30 May 2014

Yeh Dosti Hum Nahin Todenge


Music is something that can transcend time. Generation to Generation, Region to Region it also trencends across border. Of the many forms of music Cine Songs are found to be more effective, especially in India.

"Yeh Dosti Hum Nahin Todenge
Todenge Dam Magar Teraa Saatha Naa Chhodenge"  as I heard these lines being played on TV. The bright picture of me and my friend sukanya flashes before me  and not Amithab Bachhan from Sholay.



The sky was turning pink, birds flying over the tall roof of the collectorate building. I glanced around searching for the cycle. This was my chance to learn doubles in cycling. I had given lift to my younger cousins and my huge school bag which was as heavy as anyother living being( thanks to the board of education). With the little bit of hesitation Sukanya was ready to help me master this great art of essential transportation technique. "Are you sure ? I have only one life. Better be careful." She freaked out. " I will  yaar .Dont worry." I lied and started cycling. After a little bit of fumbling,mumbling and stumbling I was successful in my attempt. During the process to calm myself we started singing " Yeh dosti hum nahin Chodenge ...Todenge Hum magar...Teraa Saath Naa Chodenge"....we kept on singing only these two lines due to lack of knowledge about what follows next.  Well the story however lame it might sound doesnt matter much. What I am trying to focus here is the song. In our case it was a symbol of trust. Her trust that I wont let her fall and My trust that we would still have a good time even if we stumble. 

This is the same song which has been mentioned by my elder relatives be it at their thirties,fourties, fifties..This song has blended itself with people's life. Particularly with their memories of their close friends.Many such songs have paved their way in our lives It matters about the music...It matters about the lyrics.. It might matter about the artists too ... But above all what matters much more is the feel and the world it takes us into ...sometimes a drizzle and some times a downpour..






TRANSLATION:
http://www.hindilyrics.net/translation-Sholay/Yeh-Dosti.html
 
(Yeh dosti hum nahin todenge)
We will not break this friendship

Todenge dam magar tera saath na chhodenge) 
I may break my strength, but I will not leave your side

Sunday, 25 May 2014

Drizzles and downpour: And I await a downpour.....

Drizzles and downpour: And I await a downpour.....: Glancing outside the window of the noisy auto in which I was travelling made me wonder a lot. Ignoring the noisy passengers beside me I loo...

And I await a downpour.....

Glancing outside the window of the noisy auto in which I was travelling made me wonder a lot. Ignoring the noisy passengers beside me I looked outside to see the dry vaigai river. " Vaigai" the name which adheres along with Madurai - the Athens of south India. "Vaigai"- the river which cuts the city into half. The river which is the heart of the chitrai festival, The river which is a symbol of life and unity of the people here. Vaigai which now symbolises a dry barren land in the middle of the city.

I glanced at the small dirty pools of sewage water ornamented by plastic bags and disposed trash. Pigs and buffaloes seem to have a fun time in these manmade spas. Blessing us for this chimerical act of humanity they roll and grunt in the most disgusting fashion.Kids playing cricket in the dry grounds, horses galloping towards a patch of green grass, vehicles vroooming over the low lying bridge accross the river makes me wonder "Where is the evidence that this river is still alive?"

An age old photograph of the Kalmandapam in Vaigai
The vague memory of the flooded river came into my mind ironically followed by many such photographs which I have seen in newspapers and magazines. As I cogitate on this problem the huge Kalmandapam comes into my view. The ruins speak about the by gone era of the pillars. Once upon a time the majestic building which stood in the centre of the flooded river, now lies devastated.During the time of flood survivors swam ashore to this pavillion and saved themself from drowning.Thus it also acted as a life saver through ages. People say ages ago the Kings and Queens used to view the chitirai festival from this stone pillared pavillion. Such a magnificent architecture now shelters the goats in madurai. Time is the weiredest magician indeed.Ocassionally during the month of chithirai this pavillaion is given attention. It gets cleaned and decorated only to shelter the idol of Lord Kalazhagar during the main event of the festival. After which it again fades off from peoples mind.
The huge buildings lining the river bank instead of trees slowly wipes out the evidence of the existence of a lively river. With these thoughts I reached my destination and got off from the auto-rickshaw. Turning back to look at the Kalmandapam which stands meditating to the open skies, awaiting a downpour and silently hoping for a drizzle ...



 The story behind the birth of Vaigai:

Meenakshi, the daughter of a Pandyan king, was an incarnation of Parvathi. From a very young age, she made up her mind to marry Lord Shiva and none else. Her family was initially against this but eventually consented to her wish and arranged the wedding. Sundareswara (Siva), being an ascetic, came to the wedding without any family or relatives accompanying him. Disappointed at this, the Pandyan king angrily showed Siva the huge amount of food prepared for the bridegroom's relatives. Siva pointed to a friend he had brought with him saying 'He will consume all the food that you've made'. This friend was a Rakshasa named Kundodhara. After Kundodhara finished all the food that was prepared, He became very thirsty and started asking for water. All the wells and canals in Madurai were not sufficient to quench his thirst. Then, Siva asked Kundodhara to put his hand out and opened a small part of his hair lock and Ganga began to flow into his hand. After quenching his thirst, The rest of the waters began flowing in Madurai as the Vaigai river. Vaigai means 'put your hand out' in Tamil.