Tag: Family

Pulse!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

When I say pulse, I am not sure about what exactly am I trying to say, even within myself. It could rather be interpreted as some ‘symptom’ of life! Or, in more contemporary terms, the pulse of something is the essence of the thing itself. Essentially, breathing and the beating heart and the neural throbbing symbolises the pulse of life and staying alive. But, often, we come across mannerisms and habits (aka compulsive obsessions) that let you know they sure are alive nd kicking, beyond the inhale-exhale routine. And most of the time, its mockery upon people’s OCDs. But at once, I realised there’s some fact in this.

As on most weekends, we set off to meet our grandparents (mom’s). But this time at my aunt’s place, as they had come over there. By the time we reached, grandpa was sick. Low sugar. He was exhausted and lying down. Everybody got worried, stuffing him with as much ‘sweet’ness as they could. Mom went uber crazy, under pressure, which used to be typical of aunt. Hustling around, I thought people were nnecessarily making a fuss there. After all, thatha (grandpa) is old and he’s used to be of a weaker health for the past decade. But he’s always strived and came out good. So I sat down on a chair, across the hall, facing him. Everybody was still standing, and I went WTF in my mind! It’s not like I loved him any less. Perhaps I’d say, I am the one who loves him the most, second only to ammammai (grandma). May be that’s not true from somebody else’s perspective, but definitely for me. So it was not like I wasn’t concerned. I was just sure its all gonna be fine. But then I notice something. I saw his hand, awkwardly clenched, like he has no more control over them. Could it be a stroke? Is his mouth slightly awkward too? Did he just get paralysed to his right? Infinite questions and my head would have just exploded. I got up (calmly or in a mad rush, I don’t remember) and went over to feel his right hand. The reflex he showed surprised me and soothed me all over. He held my hand, not too tight, not too gentle, as always when we depart, and we shook hands and he managed a slight laugh. I laughed too. Did I everyone else in the room too? I was too soothed to notice. I left him, with the still-concerned daughters and sons-in-law! I went over and continued the conversation with lechu (the cousin, as most of you know by now!). For now, we had made a pact over the handshake! And we’d made our peace to eachother.

And later on, as my uncle reached, thatha was still not stable. He was dizzy and disoriented. It was evident he hardly understands his environment. So then, mama (uncle) tries his usual prank on thatha. “Appa, ethra manikku serial thudangum? Rathri ennathu? Bhairavi thaane?” (Dad, when does the TV series begin? What’s it tonight? ‘Bhairavi’ is it?) And thatha prompty responds, ” Aamam, Bhairavi. Serial pathe kaalukku thaan” (Yeah, it is ‘Bhairavi’. The series begins at 10.15 only!). Mami interrupts, “Appakku ellam sheriyayachu ippo!” (Dad is all good now!). And now, the silence in the room breaks into laughter, as everyone’s sure thatha is fine, that he now grabs back on to his biggest OCD ever – Tamil TV series!

But to me, it was the unique handshake that told me he’s fine. It was never the usual handshake. Back then, he used to chide me and accuse me for trying to steal his ring, as we shook hands. Later at some point, he perhaps thought I am too grown up for that prank. But we still continued the handshake ceremony, even if we never talked the whole time. It grew into an OCD between us and I was immensely happy to see that he related ‘our’ thing to my casual touching of his hand. A while ago, mom had called to check on him. He’s fine expect that he has no memory of us coming to see him today. But I guess, the OCD would work anyway. That’s how it works!

Life is that. From interests, to cravings, to yearnings, to obsessions. Things that you wouldn’t let go until the last breath. Things that certify, that you’re more than a piece of breathing flesh. Things that define you and your existence. Things that you are hated for. Thing that you are loved for. Yet the same things that you are identied with. Things that make life, and help you live beyond inhalations and exhalations!

Happy birthday to me!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

Nah, it’s nowhere close. My birthday is way over. But looking back from this precise moment, that was one of the only best thing that happened to me recently, making me want to find goodness in every other thing! It’s like this one good day, promising you to give more, making you want more. I had cake! Yay! (Doesn’t matter I shared it with the cousin, whose birthday falls the same day! That WAS the fun after all!) I had midnight birthday wishes! Again Yay! I had wake up calls. Again Yay! I even had a total surprise birthday ‘mug’ with my photo in it. Gifted my cousin-childhood_friend-buddy-my-lechu! And yay is just not enough there! And the surprise birthday card, which technically was the only one this year! And not to forget, I had two full big yummy ‘chocolat’y ‘silk’y heaven, all for myself! Besides all, I had a surprisingly relieving conversation with an old pal! She didn’t talk much. But whatever little we spoke, the spirit of it stays alive to the moment and gives me a all-new drive to life! And there I said ‘Same to you’ to devi akka when she wished me! We missed it all these years perhaps! As if it wasn’t enough, I have aniecenow, born with me, 21 years delayed!

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Birthdays have been more good to me in the past. Much better than this years’, where I was away from family and loved ones. But this one seems more special. May be coz it’s the 21th! May be coz it’s the one surviving 2012! May be it could be so many other things. But most of all, I think it was special, coz it was the only good thing, in a long time now. The most beautiful flower is the one that blooms in the face of a catastrophe! Symbolising survival! I survived. Yay!

P. S. Oh wait a min! Did I forget to mention the new Olympus 620! All thanks Vidya! Amma and appa just flipped me out this time! 🙂

Daivamundu!

~ Soumya ~ 3 Comments

All of a sudden, I say daivamundu. (God is there!) Not that I was an atheist. Not that I was disciple of any form of worship either. Was it like I was almost slipping down the cliff of agnostic thoughts? Well anyway, life has just taken me over and lifted me from the fall, with an amazing ease and splendor. Now, this moment, I am a believer. That someone is definitely watching over all the drama. I don’t pray yet. I don’t attend religious gatherings. I don’t make offerings. But I am a believer. I don’t believe in the give-and-take policy with God. God is supposed to be infinitely more supreme. When even I have the heart to help a total stranger held in trouble, wouldn’t God have the heart for it? When I don’t curse somebody for their ingratitude, why would God’s wrath may even be considered plausible? Nobody’s gonna make you ill if you forgot the 1008 thenga (coconuts) for Ganapathy! Come on, Ganapathy is not our villain. He’s the vignavinashaka (problem solver) of our lives! Why are Gods and Goddesses and all other form of deities picturised as scary, wrathful, scornful beings?

Faith is an over exploited commodity when it comes to religions and spiritual manifestations of it. You do the Navagrahahomam and the Ganapathihomam. If its breaking your financial stability, why do you still insist on the Bhagavathiseva too? Afraid that Devi would burn your life into ashes? What kinda faith is it, blindly performing the rituals, out of fear of condemn! I am not against religious rituals and activities. In fact, ever since childhood, that has always been the occasion of family gathering, lot of delicacies, lot of fun and frolic. Growing up, understanding the concept of the rituals, I am all the more approving of the nobility of the religious expressions. But things feel terribly awkward and ridiculous, when people tend to forget the fundamental idea that lead them to the initiation of such rituals.

Ah! All that seemed overboard for my scope of knowledge and experiences in such matters. Something triggered and I just couldn’t stop. Adding to the urge, the liberation of not having my parents around reading this, and prosecuting me for my spiritual ignorance, really boosted up the writing. Not to forget what I started off with, Daivamundu. But, Faith in fellow beings might speed up you revelation of it though! 🙂

Kalyanamelam!

~ Soumya ~ 3 Comments

So marriage season again in the family!!! In less than a year’s gap after the last marriage, the next kalyanamelam is up in the family! Oh my god!!! I am so excited about this next big thing in the family. But as much as it, I am tensed and worried. Who’s gonna be next in line? Nah, not immediately ME. I have still people to lead me in the line. From the infinite seeming line of cousins yet-to-be-hitched, we have now reduced to 3 or 4! And that’s scary coz everything seems so quick and out of anyone’s control. It’s not particularly about getting married or not getting married. Its about how life changes after every such twists in story. We were all cousins, friends who played along, confidants to eachother, casual and light headed. But as I have seen it always, and what marriage does to a person, it is like losing someone too close to someone else, who you hardly know! Shouldn’t it be rather like a new person is getting in the train with us and that we all might make the journey more wonderful? So it should be. Its not like marriage breaks a family. Its just that things never stay the same. At times, we improve with life and get better with relations. But at tmes, it’s not an improved life that we all seek. Or so with me, I often cherish life as it was, before we all grew up to ‘marry-able’ age, and when we were just there for eachother, by a sense of oneness that seeped in, in each of us, ever since birh, all into the childhood. And at the onset of adulthood, I wonder if ‘manni’ (sister in law) could be as loving as ‘akka’ (sister) or if ‘athimber’ (brother in law) could be as caring as ‘anna'(brother)!

This is not a post script. Just a note I add, to clarify my seemingly twisted writing. I have a manni who has been more loving than any akka. And an athimber whom I’d feel so safe with as my anna. I wasn’t comparing. Nor complaining. Just getting settled with the idea of one more marriage, and losing one more from the ‘children’ group of the family into the responsible and serious adult club!

Payanangal mudivathillai!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

Every time, I go travelling with my parents, the one thing that stays is the decision that *that* would be the last trip. But every next time, I am still travelling with them, with the same thought over and over. Payanangal mudivathillai. The journey never ends. But somehow this time, I am looking forward to more of these trips. I almost realise that I have always loved them anyway. Or may be, over the years, they just got better and better.

The one reason I probably love it may be is that, we always travel to Tamil Nadu. North or south or central. It will always be some part of the state. And I so much love this land, the people, the culture, the language, the temples, the all-night awake streets. I so much love being here. And every trip gives me strange experiences. The old lady who invites me to the seat next to hers, worrying if I hadn’t notice the vacant seat. The intimate addressing from total strangers, building innocent associations, genuine despite their transience. The down to earth aura that comes so innate with locale. The senthamizh that flows so fluently. The mallikai vaasam, from the jasmine clad women. The busy street and the crowd like nomads, stranded and lost, or often mesmerised and stunned by the glow of consumerism. The shopkeepers call out, coaxing you into buying stuff and endorsing even undergarments! The street vendors yield to bargain to any unimaginable level, and offer ‘special’ interest and discount to ‘all’ their ‘special’ customers, if you care enough to talk and build a rapport, of some identifiable measure. Nobody keeps trade secrets here! I was surprised how that old man explained the exact mix of his beyond perfect filter coffee! Was he so sure I’d never replicate it or did he just not care! There’s more to a coffee than just buying and sipping thru. There’s relishing a coffee and personally appreciating the taste to the old man who made it for you. “Coffee pramadham!”.

And today’s pivotal joint in our itinerary was Nellaiyappar Temple, Tirunelveli. The temple, in one word, is a maze. I am so surprised by the sheer awesomeness in the architecture. Not just for the sculptures, or the Saptaswara pillars,(where you here the seven swaras of Carnatic music, by the clang of each stone pillar, that vibrates like they were strings of a veena). Its a maze that they have built up there. The numerous doors at every passage, that leads to another set of numerous doors to numerous deities and sculptures. You don’t get lost there coz the most inviting paths are the most trodden direct paths, circling the temple in the shortest route. But if you choose to enter every next door you see, you’re probably to end up in some dark enclosed space with vermillion spread forms of Gods, with unknown names. I should probably upload a pic or two of the temple, to elaborate the greatness of the expanse. Looking forward to a similar mind blowing episode tomorrow, at Tiruchendur Murugan sannidhi!

Shopping spree!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

And finally, I too was set for it. With my kaalan kuda (I really dont know what that’s called in English. Help welcome!), walking ahead like the head of the family, that was my n-th trip for buying a bag for my impending looong journey. Walked all around tvm for a petty bag and still couldn’t make it upto buying one! It was a pleasure everytime. To go wander, on and on, with no particular goal in my mind. I was just walking and seeing new things, meeting new people. It was all good and comfy. I never minded not ‘buying’, though that’s what I primarily went around for. Today, however, ended up different.

So I was walking as the head of the family, leading my mom and sister. Of course with my kaalan kuda. (That’s the part I loved the most!) We walked in and out of shops. A bag. That’s all what we wanted. Obviously though, we had an eye on all the textiles on display too. The first shop we got into was a textile shop. Thought we could make a quick peep on the displays and walk out soon. But so much for my annoyance, there was nothing on display. A lady was all set to take out the ‘exact’ kinda dress we wanted, with colour and pattern specifications, out of the shelves and put them on display for us. I had an instant attitude problem with that lady. So much so that I flipped the plate and told my mom how I never wanted dress. I just wanted to get out of the place and get away from that lady before our eyes meet again. And we walked out. We, rather I, dropped the idea of textiles. Another couple of metres, and we reached where it seemed like we could dive in for what we needed (a bag!) in any direction and still resurface with it! First in row, we saw nothing like what ‘I’ wanted. But it was still difficult to get my family out of the place. I dragged them into the immediate next door and still found nothing. But I saw my mom bidding the fellow at the shop, with enquiries about if sundays would be working for them. And that she would like to come with her husband (my dad, yeah.) and confirm on what to choose. I liked his attitude when he said how wonderful it’d be that we better check out the bags on sundays then rather than waste theirs and our time! That was so direct that…! 😀 And the next shop was the best! Oh my god! I’d really recommend that guy for some marketing ‘awesomeness’ award. He was so flawless. But his bags weren’t. I’d have surely bought from him otherwise. He gave me a five min lecture on how trolley wheels are bad for air bags and how the inclination and the ease for pulling it around would never sync. I almost thought I was in my most dreaded Physics class learning the ‘FLE’ again. I patted him on his shoulder (in my mind) and congratulated him on his performance, if he could really see the grin that I hid in my occasional smiles. We walked out very politely, thanking him and letting him know that I STILL wanted a trolley coz I didn’t understand his Physics anyway! For the final lap, we decided on textiles coz we (read I) dropped plans about the bag. Giving it a start, I walked into the next immediate shop and got out in a jiffy. I ushered my mom to walk along and advocated her on financial management and value for money! And then she said it! ‘Unnoda appavoda kooda kadakku poka ivvalavu paadillai. Onnum vangavum cheyyama ippadi lo lo ennu alayalam.’ (Its not this difficult to shop with your dad. Dont buy a thing and walk around like a maniac.)

I beamed. Instantly. And my face glowed. With a misplaced yet unmatched pride.

P.S. I consciously left a lot of my sister’s comments. That’d sound more like boasting beyond anybody’s threshold. 😛 But one thing for sure is that, I’d not have been this happy had I got the thing I went shopping for. I’d have never beamed, with a bag in hand. Shopping is not all about buying.

The NRI evil!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

Without mention, it’s beyond just obvious that this has gotta do nothing at all with the movie, “Resdient evil”. I know the first sentence is totally irrelevant and out of place. But it was placed with the post inside my head! So, bear with me. 🙂 So the non resident evil, the typical NRI thing is what’s bothering me so much. As any other usual middle class, our family too has a couple of NRI relatives. And with most of them, I am in a fairly decent contact. All thanks to facebook and gmail! They definitely keep relations away from rotting and dying, if not fresh and lively. And one of those NRI cousins of mine is definitely getting to read this. So just be known. Its not me pointing a finger at you people, but a very genuine grievance, that most of us, your resident relatives always wanted to share. Rather write it down here and act like nothing ever happened than say it in person, and spoil the fewest times we see eachother!

Did I build up so much that now it feels like some unforgivable offence against humanity? Well, judging it so ain’t so wrong. Coz I definitely am offended by it. All these foreign returned people, you know, are so much deserving our heartfelt sympathy and understanding. They carry with them with a heavy load of expectations of their own as they fly back to their homeland. And upon that already heavy load, a bigger weight of obligation to meet their relatives’, friends’, neighbours’, friends’ of friends and oddly random people’s demands! Coupled with errands to unknown people with huge gift packets. Its such a huge commitment. And almost impossible to keep everyone happy and stay happy yourself. We just want to you people to know that we totally get that helplessness in you and hence really don’t care about the hapless greeting that we get. We fully get the situation and offer you all our understanding. Most genuinely. The one thing that we just can’t stand is your feeling of obligation to us! You know what folks? Its absolutely okay you don’t gift us anything. We are really cool with the idea that you don’t shower us with the best-est goodies from abroad! Come on people! Who doesn’t know that now Mars and Bounty are now chocolates kids demand down here too, along with all the Cadburies we get them! An iPhone or the latest tech release isn’t not much far from us, as long as eBay and Flipkart offers service! May be we don’t get to ‘feel’ the product with our bare hands. But never mind. We don’t trust your technical knowledge anyway! 😛

Did I sound too offensive? I’m slightly worried on that, coz that’s not my intention at all. I lovethe chocolates you people bring from there. May be its available here, but I like them anyway coz they are delicious. I love those tiny petite perfume bottles and their awesome fragrance. I even love this awesome thing that someone got me from abroad, which let’s me blog on the move. Its never about the worth of the things that you bring us, nor the availability. Its just that, gifts are NOT the reason why we come to see you. You can leave us empty handed and we still won’t grit our teeth behind you!

May be you NRIs would have never thought of things this way. The global exposure may have changed your wordl view and understanding of lives. But everytime you come down here, we are all back at the constraint thoughts of ‘engathu panku vere, ungathu panku vere’. (our home’s share and your home’s share ARE separate). Its not just about what you think of us and what you feel giving things away. Do look at your home-mates and what they feel. And then tell me if I hold a point or not! 🙂 You know what’s the worst thing that can happen to a person, in this context? Its getting caught up at a home where a NRI landing is expected! If you end up staying there, you’ll have to witness ‘unbelievable’ and unbearable levels of self digust! 😀 At the end of my post, I am sad about one thing. That not all my NRI cousins are getting to read this. I really wanted them to see things through our view point! Sincerely, we.

P.S. All through out, I has been replaced with ‘we’ coz its a collective grievance shared by too many of us. I still remember how somebody told me that the person was so happy about somebody else’s homecoming until the moment, a leftover gift was forcefully given, to make the person not feel bad. Ironic. 🙂

Chachummai!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

My mom is employed. I have never thought anything about it. She goes to office every morning. And comes back home every evening. That was all about it. But suddenly, I’m extremely grateful that my mom has got a job. That she was busy and couldn’t stay with me all the time. I missed my mom. A lot. But never beyond compensation. She used to come home with hot samosas and ice candy. Whatever time she had, she always spent it with me. I was a happy kid. Just the usual happy happy childhood. But then, was I just plainly happy or was I more?

This is not about my mom. This is about my chachummai (Sarswathi ammai, shortened by a kid’s accent). She was ammaammai (mother’s mother) to my cousins and my sis, but always chachummai to me. After long, I felt an instant intimacy brewing between us. Or may be, only within me. We sat together. My chachummai, my twin cousin lechu and me. She was with a new assignment for both of us. Testing our Tamil vocab and language skills, she was reciting verses from the SriMurugan calendar (her trademark, if I may add). She wanted us to explain them to her, in senthamizh! It was a come back for me. From a dark vicious episode of mental imbalances and my innate insanity, I felt all normal and peaceful.

May be it’s her age. May be it’s her calm self. May be it’s her drawing charm. May be it’s just nothing but the closeness I have with her. When with her, the inner turmoil may not vanish. But it definitely stays away and gives me room to breath.

Back to where I started. I was a bit more than the usual happy happy kid. All my Mom’s absence was filled with my fonder chachummai! Absence makes the heart fonder indeed!

Changing perception

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

A change in my perceptions is the least of my expectations. But surprisingly, I’m through with a very drastic change of opinion. Not specifically about someone or something. But generally about everything, about everyone. All things trace back to a reason. So does this sudden change. I cant pinpoint any particular incident. But yet, vaguely, it’s all related to my recent family get together. Falling back to the land of my dreams, walking around the source of my spirits, what I gained back could be partially termed as my sanity. Out of the blue, people turn more transparent, and life seems so much more clear if not plain and simple.

I am afraid this post might be very specific since most my readers precisely know about the instances and incidents that I am hinting at. I am a person with very strong opinion and sense of discretion. Atleast, so does people around claim about me.I am shook by one such judgment of mine. The moment I hated being so judgmental!! Ironically, I cant even judge if this is like being judgmental. I always thought ill of this person. I am not wrong. The ‘ill’ feeling hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s there. As strong and as deep as it were. But yet, something is topping it up now. A sense of strange change in perception. For the first time, I could see there’s a point why the person could be so. I could think of accepting the way things are and live with it, without complaints or regrets. I could think of justifying the person’s actions, after years of struggle to cope with the harm it brought on me. I could actually forgive. Nobody asked for forgiveness. Nobody even knows I could have had such a wound in me. But yet, in that flick second, the person opened up and I could see myself crying. Standing by the dimly lit corner of our home’s entrance, I wished nobody saw both of us. Talking, rather whispering. I held out my hand to hold the person’s hand. I expected my hands to be held too. But it was not to be. I didn’t withdraw nor did I pause. I went on to hold hands, with all that it takes for my pride to oblige. Hands entwined, I saw somebody’s life unwinding in front of my eyes. Treading the same path, feeling the same agony, laughing at the same joke, fearing the same fate. I could finally topple my
ideologies. I could let go. I forgave the person. Begged for forgiveness too. Within myself.

The swing!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

I aint a child anymore. I very well get that. But then, as in everyone’s life, there could be something in mine too, that can bring out a bit of a child in me. It kinda contradicts my own theory that I never felt child enough. Life was always very pragmatic and rational to me. Excuse the past tense. It still is so and will as well continue so. Eventually, I reckon that my losses are something that I lost in the mad rush of articulations. Knowing it to myself, that none was intentional, I assume I can live through the losses. Ironically, despite the whole missing of sweet naughty memories, I do have occasional reminiscences. Of a past that I never had.

My nostalgia and longing have always been mocked upon. I dont blame anyone. Nor am I particularly sad about being laughed at. I honestly understand that all of them have a point. For my nostalgia is ridiculously dwelling on a past that I never had. It’s difficult to fathom and empathise with me. Very so often, I fail at that all by myself. My birth and raising up was completely in a city, that’s continuously pacing to the “Metro” status. My life is pivoted around the city and the normal urban middle class scale. But every time I visit my dad’s native, something changes in me. From my very first visit till the current one,(typing from the very same home’s sit out), I have increasingly fallen for this place and the old ancestral home.I connect perfectly to the village, the temple nearby, the temple pond, the home itself, the extended backyard, the cramped bathroom, the dimly litambiance, the ear-bursting loudspeakers. Not to forget the dusty attic and the rickety ‘monuments’ and the ‘priceless treasure’ that I dig out of them, in every single visit.

I wish I could write more and relate my existence to something worth the survival. But instinctively, I believe that somethings are better unsaid. The aura that this place radiates, is amazing.I am spellbound by it’s charm. I am surprise how I am urged to write about one particular thing. The swing of my life. The only one that I truly admired for its rhythmic oscillations. As I sit on it and rock myself, it feels like the entire world is striving to do away with my sleeplessness and cradle me into a peaceful sound sleep. My swing!

For the first time, there was actually a choice to not rock myself. Somebody else did it for me. I am glad. Blissful.

Update : I guess the reference to the swing was very vague. But have a close look at the image just above this. Its an open gate with another opened gate within it. That’s where I sit and rock! 😛