My parents friends

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The sixth sense

Visiting people is not something I do very often,keeping in touch even less,but for some reason when I am faced with a family crisis I call people,visit people and find great relief in this activity.I also find that unconsciously I have over the years developed a great faith in this one activity.I find that if I talk about a particular activity or a crisis or even something as mundane as planning a holiday,then the said situation will never happen.Which is why I refuse to plan.Everything till date has been a spur of the moment decision.Ive noticed this happening so often that when I don't want something to happen,I talk about it to the whole world and his uncle.
Its funny that the brain....mind...whatever....works this way.On the one hand rational self tell me this is just a load of rubbish,but the emotive mind says this is true.
The recent crisis with my father had made me turn to my emotive mind.I have been calling up cousins that I talk to once in two years or less,I have been emailing friends and visiting people,all the time talking of my crisis,hoping that it will go away.This feeling is so strong that when i was planning to get married,I didn't even talk to my closest friends about it.When I went around with the husband(then boyfriend) for six years before we got married,no one was the wiser.So worried was I that if I let anyone know then it would all be off.I am convinced that there is a sixth sense,for instance I know who is on the phone as it rings(90% of the time).Like birds I know when disaster will strike but over the years I have shut out my sixth sense.(some parts of it)Its too scary to deal with,it can drive one crazy.
So the mind plays at different levels.Its a choice to shut it out.It can be controlled but if even a little window is opened that free flowing thoughts and experiences can enter.The sixth sense (sometimes we call it superstition) works at a higher level and if we open our minds we all have it in us.The question is ....do we want to know.

Brahmin girls and life

Today I told myself that the focus would turn from sadness and illness and talk instead of a community that has influenced my life greatly.I hit upon the idea when going through my address and friends list
At school all my friends were Anglo Indians,so we talked of dancing,music,food and parties besides reading.One I left the security of the Anglo Indian school,it was right into a christian college (for long the abode of the Syrian christian mallu girls.)Our class was almost full of them but we managed not to become clannish and my circle of friends had one christian and all the rest were Hindus.The interesting part was that among the Hindus,the girls who formed long relationships with me were the brahmin lot.The trend continued into university and well into work.
There are many jokes about this community.For one they are known to suffer from a superiority complex,for another,they are very tightfisted in money matters.They would carry conservatism to the extreme of not allowing non vegetarian food into their homes,not using vessels that lesser mortals like us(the hard core carnivore) use etc.
For some strange reason I was drawn to them(not by design).I didn't see their community,only the nice girls that they were,but in many subtle ways they influenced my life.
Hanging around with these girls meant that there was no extravagant spending,we spent on books,an occasional movie and the like.Since most of them are dead serious about studies,it forced me to dig into my books.The right marks were very important.The biggest asset was that my terrible command over the Tamil language became much better and by the time I was in the work force,my Tamil could put any self respecting brahmin to shame.
At the workplace I was soon to meet three very significant brahmin girls.They were like chalk to cheese.One was a well dressed,well travelled and a very confident woman who sometimes got on our nerves for her strict rules and her attitude to life.She could make you feel like a worm very often because her choice of words and lifestyle was nowhere near ours,but we learnt from her to project a particular image,she taught us how to conduct ourselves at the work place.As a senior woman(very few in those days) in the corporate world we copied her haughtiness and carriage.She remains the same but over the years we also discovered the real person under the persona.
The other girl was more the party kind,she was determined to live life to the hilt while at the same time investing well and always conscious of the rainy day.We learnt to relax with her,interact with men on an easier level and we had great times dancing the night away on many occasions.We were always the first on the dance floor and the last to get off.She introduced us to fun,life at its best in gay abandon.
The third person was a lot more restrained,her head for research and business was no match for us.She would study and research the most mundane things.From buying a washing machine to planning a holiday,she collected a lot of date.Everything was an informed choice,nothing was left to chance.She influenced me so much that my first investment was a flat(she located it for me,I had to just pay up).She went on to influence the purchase of my first car.She gave me a life home in her car everyday and told me of all the good points,the sense in having ones own transport etc.She made so much sense,then she went on to give me ideas on loans,how did one get the best deal etc.Her home was the venue for our wedding planning.With her around along with the other two,everyone else found that duties were assigned and we (husband and I) had only to arrive at designated time at the place.
Today some twenty years later we don't meet so often but these girls have made me what I am,they have influence me in my financial planning,in my choice of jobs and maybe,just maybe in my choice of husbands.Here I am married to a nice brahmin boy with all the traits mentioned in the beginning of the article and thanks to these girls I know how to deal with his family.If there is a function in the husbands family,the girls will know exactly what gift will work,what dress code will be a hit and what to say when.
Today I pay tribute to a community (I think of it that way as most of my friends belonged to this community)which has greatly influenced my life and I hope I have done that to them too.

Ignorance and Sports

Reading the newspaper every morning was one thing that a lot of our generation was made to do.I believe its because that was our source of general knowledge(big deal when we were kids)I willed myself to reading it but over the years managed to keep abreast of things mostly political.
One section of the paper I was happy to do without was the sports pages.Today I know that sports pages of newspapers are a big deal and people can watch any amount of TV but will continue to read all of it over again in the newspaper.Not me(I am sure there are lots of people like me)I even skip the pages which have great pictures.Not being a great fan of any sport I cant see the need to do so.
In a country that is obsessed with cricket,this (not reading the cricket news or watching TV)can be a big issue.Today I realised how difficult it is to relate to someone who loves sports.My dad who is in hospital is simply dying to know the news so in all goodness I took the paper along all ready to read aloud to him.The news was so dull I wondered what would interest him so we turned to the business page.He needed to know the latest in the business space so the fact that the sensex had droped 600 odd points was news to him,then he wanted to know what happened to Justine Henin at the Australian open.Ignorant me didn't even know that the Australian open was on so I scrambled through the news to find nothing on the woman.Next he asked about the cricket match between India and Australia and again I was blank.Oh dear, there I was with a headline that said something about V'VS Lakshman having pulled off a great deal but what was it.Read the whole story but couldn't find a single simple sentence that said what I wanted to know.It was a huge flop show.My dad politely told me that that was enough news for the day.I didn't read to him about Bobby Fisher dying as I censor all deaths to him.(no point in getting a man at his age depressed).
I packed up the paper but am still convinced that the sports pages are written badly,why don't they just tell us simple facts and then go on to the analysis.Why do the sports writers think that everyone has already watched it all on TV.Some of us old fashioned types do still read the paper you know.Well for one I haven't been converted to a sports page fan and have no intention of becoming one either,and as for the news,it shall be delegated to the husband who can spend hours on sports channels and read all the news on sports and store it away in his long term memory till kingdom come.So in the interests of looking at solutions,he shall be sent to break the news on India's performance against the Australians and going by the whoops and yells emanating form our TV room it ought to be good news.(that reads as India won the match)

mail vans and ravens

Looking around I find that the red mail van is missing from roads today.I think there are fewer mail vans now.For years we held on to some of our superstitions.I am not superstitious by any stretch of imaginations but somethings are so much a part of our social and psychological fabric that we can never get away from them.Passing by the post office today brought it all back.
At school we believed that if we saw a red mail van(colour very important even though there is only one colour)we had to cross our fingers and could uncross them only when we came upon the next red van.To do so before that brought bad luck.Today with the advent of the email the mail van has disappeared and so has our superstition.
One of the great superstitions that remain to this day is the one on ravens.It goes like this,one for sorrow,two for joy,three for letter,four for boy,five for silver,six for gold and seven for secrets that will never be told.Of course the raven is not so common so its unlikely that we would find either the boy or the silver or gold but the sorrow and joy was very likely.We all went into a tizzy if we saw one raven,the quickest way to pass off the bad luck was to point the bird to another friend.If we saw one in the morning the whole day would be ruined,if we saw one before the test then we were convinced that it would be a failure.It was so ingrained in our psyche that even when something did happen(not related to the bird) we attributed it to the bird in question.Two of them always brought a smile to our faces.
The other superstition(I think this has its origins in Kerala or in some part of India) was that one should never set out as a threesome to any important discussion....it was bound to flop,so if the parents were off to see a girl or boy(as in arranging a marriage) they would go as two or four and never three.If we left the house on some important mission and had to come back as soon as we step out the door(for having forgotten something)we would have to sit down and drink a glass of water to get the bad luck out.
Touching wood is another superstition that has been around for ages.Its so much a part of our lives that we always touch wood without thinking about it.
Horseshoes are another big deal.One is never sure if it has to be hung upwards or downwards but one thing is for sure.The shoe has to have fallen off the horses foot naturally to be of any luck.
Wearing new clothes inside out was a sure sign of getting a new set(I always did this on purpose hoping my mom would get me another set,unfortunately she claimed not to have heard of this little bit of superstition).
Eating the last bit of food on a plate made you a spinster for life so we were all careful not to do so(there was a time when we thought spinsterhood was a bad thing till we knew better).
One very strange one was that a bumper harvest always signaled death in the family.It translated into smaller versions that included plants in the garden or balcony.So if your plants are looking unusually healthy be warned.
On mondy Thursday,most mallu Syrian christian homes baked a rice pudding.It was made with rice flour,yeast and toddy(vattaiappam).If it came out perfect all was well but God forbid it cracked in the middle,it was a sure sign of death in the family.My mother was so terrified of this superstition that we stoped making this appam in our house on mondy thursday.It was ok to make it on other days.
I am trying to research the beginnings of all these superstitions,myths and legends but its amazing how when we buy into something with no logical explanation,it can still rule our minds despite our rational minds telling us that its all a load of rubbish.

Ties that bind

It takes a crisis to bring people closer together,to find out more about each other,to discover our strengths and weaknesses.It strengthens bonds which we take for granted .
The last few days have been the only time in a long while when all my sisters and our families have been under one roof and in shared circumstances.It has been a time of learning and I have found that taking all the decisions for so many years has been hard and that two or three heads are better than one.
Its also been a time when we have looked at solutions instead of focusing on problems.We have renewed our ties with close members of our family,cousins we have been out of touch with,aunts and uncles and friends we had forgotten.We have found that each member on this chain has something to contribute,from finding help to helping out with Church and religious affairs(we are not too clued in on our religious side).We have learnt to count our blessings.In a short span of time we have found house help(expensive but worth it).From having no one to having someone round the clock is a great leap in time.We have discovered that some of the things we did in the past is now coming in handy.We have learnt to communicate better with each other and to lean on each other more.We are not out of the woods as yet and there is a long way to go but besides bringing our own family closer we have also discovered the kindness of strangers,we have had help from the most unexpected quarters and for this we are grateful.To us this is a sign that God is in his heaven and all is right in the world.

reverse generation gap

We all have different ways of dealing with stress,sorrow and other emotions.In our hour of crisis,my mother gets defensive and cold,one sister gets clinical while my elder sister and I write,she writes in long hand and I blog.
This afternoon we talked...my sister and I about forgiveness and sadness.We believe that as one grows old and frail,its time to focus on the good things in life,the happy memories,the things the other person did for us.We focused today on our father.
He at some level is an intelligent man,his knowledge gathered from books,newspapers,magazines movies and other ways.If the Internet was ready in his time he would have been a member of face book or orkut.
His choice music channel is VH1 or MTV.He is a great fan of shakira,the backstreet boys and some others I have no clue about.At 87 his choice of music is so strange we have a reverse generation gap.I discovered how out of date I was when I tried cheering him up by loaning him my Ipod.He then tells me my music is old fashioned.Didn't he remember that he introduced me to the listeners choice programme on radio,he made me listen to radio Ceylon and radio Australia.I am caught in time wrap while my father embraced youth.His active mind sought out the trendy and the modern.He found more in common with his 30 something grandson than with his 40 something daughter.
Today as I watch him fighting for life,I am sad and broken hearted for the active mind is housed in a body that is fast giving up and to see that happen is the worst thing in life.I hold his hand in the ICU and fight desperately to hold back tears.....i don't want him to see me cry but he is an intelligent man and knows that I am not telling him the whole truth.I walk away because I cant deal with it and my elder sister and I compare notes.We see things in similar ways and our sorrow is the other side of joy....complicated but that's life.

The ICU wait

I sit vigil outside the ICU while my father battles inside under an onslaught of tubes and machines.He fades in and out of consciousness and the doctors move in and around.It all started with him being unwell and then getting better and I was under the mistaken notion that he was on the way to recovery.However after putting people in place to help i got on with my life.
Long years of being with the parents has tuned my mind to a different wave length.I know when trouble brews.On Sunday I slept well but saw some strange dreams which woke me up with this disturbed feeling and It turns out my father needed to be taken to the hospital.
Forty five minutes for an ambulance,even more for medical attention and finally when the BP dropped and continued to drop they wheeled him into the ICU
My sister and I waited outside for an hour and the news wasn't good.They told us that this was the end and we needed to inform the rest of the family.I have never been more glad to have an elder sister around.While I dissolved into tears,she handled the phone calls and decided what to do while calming me down as well.My husband had been summoned and his instant reaction was that while there is life there is hope.
My delima is this,while I agree with him on that front,I cant bear to see my father suffer.My relationship with him hasn't been anything to write home about.There has been more drama and fights than happy memories but I can never forget that my father stood against the tide where education was concerned.He ensured that all the girls went to the best schools and colleges,he instilled in us a great curiosity to see beyond our books,so we listened to music watched the movies and read like there is no tomorrow.It was probably one of the smarted things he did for us.
He hasn't left us rich in the money sense but his investments helped me get my first flat.He is a strange man and over the years I have left behind the bad memories and learned to appreciate what he went through.
Today there are conflicting views on what we need to do.The doctors don't hold out much hope.Do we stop the medication and let him die or do we give him a chance to survive.Its a conflict and my heart breaks as I don't know.He continues to battle for his life against odds and I having done everything I can ,can only pray,pray hard that he doesn't suffer too much,pray hard that the good life he has had will end in peace and grace,but the agony of waiting is hard.Its probably harder for him knowing that this is probably the end.
I don't know how I will handle all this but right now the questions remain on life and its meaning and despite all my calm I worry,I don't want to face up to it,I don't want to deal with it but I have no choice.

My mad mad mind

Yesterday,I discovered what it felt like to be van Gog.I was steadily loosing my mind,and by the evening the deterioration was complete.I am not sure what brought it along.Probably an anxiety attack but the point is it was scary.I had lost control.Lets face it the stress has been building up for a while and when there is no one to talk to it all goes into ones system.Additionally I had to discharge a sick father from hospital.Just as that was done I had to rush to office to do interviews.May have been pleasant if I didn't have to meet the kind of people I do.They were the kind i would have nothing to do with.Add to that there was no time for lunch and before I knew it the chemicals in my brain had got the better of me.Slowly I was reduced to tears,if someone spoke to me I was hysterical,driving in that state is dangerous but I had not choice but to reach home and then it all come apart.At that point the wise thing would have been to take a sedative and go to sleep but I have this great fear of getting addicted so there it was,handling it all in a sane manner(if that is possible).By the time the husband arrived all hell had broken loose.He had called the mother(mine....bad decision) and the sisters called and I was a wreck.

I finally fell into a tired sleep.This morning I seem back to normal self.I am still trying to figure out what happened,I am trying to recreate the events that led to the breakdown.Its not a nice feeling and thank god I am not some creative genius because I may have cut off my ear at this rate.Oh to be normal again.

Discrimination right here

Everyone who goes abroad comes back with some story or the other about racial discrimination.I was warned about it in Spain,France and Germany but lucky me never had to face it.For now no one seems to be able to slot me into a nationality so that's a blessing,so many times I am mistaken for south American,Spanish etc.Suites me fine as otherwise I would draw unnecessary attention to myself.So for me racial discrimination exists somewhere.
Until today...right here in good old Chennai.Here is a so called lifestyle store called the Amethyst.Its usually full of the hip and happening and is a complete rip off.Not the kind of place I frequent but one is expected to sit there for hours sending mail or reading and generally meeting friends.Nice ambiance,old house et all but for the staff and the owner(i believe it all stems from the top).
Today i sat there reading my paper waiting to get...first of all a menu card.It took around 30 minutes for someone to condescend to give me one.Then no amount of attracting the attention of the waiter would help.The place you see was filled with white skins.Around 90% of the people there were not Indian.Were the waiters trained to attend only to the white skins.There they were at the beck and call of all them foreigners and not one of them bothered to come over to take the order.Am I surprised?....not really,on many occasions when I have been forced to meet someone at that place I have seen this happening.We talk of racial discrimination abroad but its alive and kicking right here in Madras and it makes me feel sick.If we cant appreciate what we have in our own country then we have no business complaining about being discriminated against.Places like these run by people who are still slaves to the white man will continue to treat the ones at home with scant respect.Unfortunately these places also hog the media limelight despite the rip off prices,the highly overrated ambiance and the slack service or just the lack of it.I believe its criminal on my part to even be seen there so the next time someone suggests the place guess I will have to decline.

My diary

Just realised that its over a year since I started this blog.Why did I?.Well at that point I was bored out of my skull and couldn't stick to anything for too long.This was yet another experiment but its become part of me.Its a great feeling to write,just about anything.It clears my mind and it brings back things long forgotten and a lot of my friends and family read but like me they are far too lazy to leave comments so I guess I should be happy just being me.
I started my first diary when I was six.My elder sister gave me a readers digest pocket diary(she thought a six year old wont have much to write home about)and I was so trilled that it went on till I was around twelve.I reread my six year old writing when I was around thirteen and was shocked at how my life revolved around the number of times I had had to go to the loo,or the number of times I ate with a faithful detail of the menu.Looks like I had this great weakness for Amul butter and hot rice.
My uncle in Kerala chanced on the diary once and was suitably impressed with my detailed account of my trips to the loo.You see a lot of it was written while on holiday in Kerala(my wise sister thought that was the best way to keep me out of her hair).The loo was always a good mile walk from the main house.It required climbing down many a mud step to reach the place which smelt of fresh earth,mulberries and centipedes.My sisters would have to fetch water from the well and bring it along.I wasn't allowed to draw water as the weight of the bucket and I were around the same and by some convoluted Kerala physics,that meant that there was every chance of my falling into the well so best avoided.Because the loo was so far away and I had this huge fear that I wouldn't be able to control myself,I would run very often(more than necessary)just to be safe.My biggest fears were the nights.My sisters refused to leave the house at night and poor me was forced to use the vegetable patch.That was traumatic as I was convinced that all the goblins were out to get me(my sister read tons of fairy tales to me everyday and it fuelled an already active imagination)Besides which there was a pig at home who for some strange reason has a fascination for a bare bottom(especially if it belonged to a child).I think I had plenty to write home about even if it was only about my loo trips.Till date most of what I remember of that house is its loo.

Chemistry and bike rides

Starting to write about old friends,set off a chain,old friends called recalling old memories so I decided that we were an interesting bunch and some more stories should follow.
Over the years we added on to our gang,but the core group remained the same.For around six years the old gang met almost every evening.Since the chemistry was being designed by Chubby and Intensity,there was a lot of plotting and planning going on which if one was not in the know,could slip past.
It happened pretty suddenly one evening.There I was walking to the bus stop(we didn't have our own transport then) and the two of them walk up to me casually and ask for some help in choosing clothes.The Raymond shop being close by didn't give me a clue so I graciously agreed to help.The general idea was to choose something for intensity as he couldn't make up his mind(i figured out later that he was very good and making up his mind and has no issues on clarity of thinking).I went through a lot of stuff and finally decided on something by which time it was well after eight in the night.Of course Chubby then decided that it was too late for nice girls to be going home alone so he casually mentioned that Intensity lived near my place and could he drop me home(chubby was my friend at that time and he was the common link so took it upon himself to be spokesperson)Intensity jumped at it but not before putting forth his own idea of a bite before we took off,so we landed up eating something at which point he tells"you have a lovely voice.(I nearly chocked on my milkshake,since when did I have a nice voice...and now he complains that its a squeak)Well after that there was no point in refusing though I had my doubts then if all was as innocent as I thought it was.I never realised until many years later that that was what hitting on was in those days.Poor me on a mites salary was more than happy to get a ride and a free meal and he didn't seem like a bad sort(or I thought I could deal with him).Well he drove like a bat out of hell (think he was showing off,and does so even now)and landed me home safe and sound,hung around at the gate to do small talk(and I was wondering when he would just go home).
The next day was just a casual "would you like a lift home" and then it kind of became a regular thing.I believe the first part of their plan had worked beautifully.

old age,old friends

I have lived with old age for the past ten years.Besides spotting my first grey hair and wrinkles,I have been witness to my parents grow old before my eyes.It is probably the most traumatic process in my life and it drains and saps me mentally and physically.If this is what it does to me I can imagine what it does to them.To be sick is not an easy situation,to be helpless and dependent is worse especially when one has been at the helm of things and run the show,taken decisions,been financially independent and so on.Today in the twilight years the tables are turned and its not easy to accept.
Opinions are divided on this situations.A number of my family probably think I make a big deal of it but to be in the situation is to know,to watch suffering is to feel and the best one can do is to bend over backward to ensure the best medical attention that money can buy.
Today was one such situation and I have to thank my friends from school and college.Over the last few years we have developed a network of old friends,girls we have dredged up from the past,girls who have grown up with me from the age of six and today those girls bailed me out.
Desperate with a father who is ill and not getting better,I had got hold of a doctor who actually makes house calls(a rare occurrence).My husband was instrumental in getting this organised and he supports in small but significant ways which help and support me psychologically.The doc ordered a number of test and the results proved that the father was on a real low keel probably needing hospitalisation.She recommended a geriatric doctor but didn't have his number.Desperate to get medical attention organised,I call the school girl network(why I don't know but I guess they know what i go through,they understand urgency without being told and all of them have old parents or parent and they know mine)She called a cousin who is a medical rep and gave me sketchy directions to the doc.While she did that,yet another schoolfriend located yet another school friend and help was arranged.
We got to the doc,organised the medication,got the phone number of emergency services and came home feeling a lot better.We may not have st oped nature in any way,but in my heart I am glad that I haven't written my dad off as being old enough to die.For me while there is life there is hope and I am convinced that I have to pull out all the stops to get the parents the best I can find.Too many in my family have died because they have been too far away from the nearest hospital.
It 8.30pm of yet another trying day and I will probably get hauled up for bunking work but its probably one thing I will not regret.

our great pondy trip

The friends gang had put together a trip to Pondycherry,the chubby boy had a cousin who had a flat and a car.That twenty years ago was really something.We girls were warned that he was good looking but the rules of friendship did not permit hitting on friends cousins.We promised to keep to rules (I had no intentions of doing so if there was a good looking boy around but somethings are best not admitted).
The group was to have three boys,chubby,intensity and nice boy along with ms proper,reckless me and hip and happening other girl.Ms proper and I got cold feet as the departure date came along.In those days nice mallu girls didn't go away for weekend trips with gang of boys.So we put our heads together and decided that all parents had given permission to go (that's the story we would tell our respective mothers should they ask)and the boys were not to be mentioned.One of them was (nice boy)mentioned because he was married and that made him safe and very appropriate as chaperon.
So all packed we set off to the bus stand(we slummed it out in them days).Chubby and intensity had got all the chemistry worked out(we were unaware) so the seating arrangements were planned in advance,chubby would share bus seat with ms proper and intensity with me.Hip and happening was spoken for so was paired with nice boy.
The trip itself was rather dull.Chubby was all charm and grace in front and intensity was fast asleep even before the bus started(nothing has changed in that department).Of course he didn't last very long sleeping,made sure he woke up and talked.(i am pretty good at getting people to talk).Noticed for the first time that he had nice hands(have this thing for hands).
Arrive in the dead of night and no sign of cousin.Tired and dirty we are ready to kill chubby (he promised that his organisation skills were a notch above ours).Well ,before we got our knives out the cousin appeared.Hmm....rather nice.Six foot something (our gang was in the range of five feet something)and pretty good.Hip and happening was quick off the mark and made a beeline for cousin(all rules forgotten).We hung back(after all we cant be so blatant).Sometime in the night we got accommodation at the ashram.One huge room with dom beds.Ms proper and I were a bit taken aback(nice mallu girls didn't share rooms with boys,even friends)but since there wasn't a choice we buckled down to it.
The rest of the holiday went crazy,we spent the night playing cards.Intensity was very good at it(he still is tho now the rules have changed).Me -gave everyone a good facial(ponds cold cream taken from ms proper...you could count on her to have everything,band aid,cold cream,tissue etc)
The cousin was also now part of group and we insisted on taking pictures.The photos we go back to from time to time because it brings back so many memories.(many a dispute on who was hitting on who,but cant find the answer)
Next day,we went around the town in cousins car.Chubby decided to drive(he wasn't very good then).Unfortunately for us the governor decided to leave at that moment and we were there(bang in front of his car).His security detail tried in vain to get us off the road(i will be killed for this but chubby hadn't a clue how to move out of the way,so he kept to the straight line)We girls were convinced that the security chaps would blow our brains out(they were all there guns at the ready)so we got hysterical and yelled instructions which get chubby more confused.Well we just got away and so did the Governor(to this day raj bhavan pondy brings back that hilarious situation and i can laugh myself silly).
While we were out on the beach trying out stuff (hip and happening,tried her first cigarette,ms proper and I played in the water while the boys looked on,and nice boy kept watch....no mischief under his nose,he was in charge)nice boy got the food organised and cousin got the drinks done.Unfortunately the cousin was warned by chubby so he kept his distance from us (deeply disappointed at that turn of things...what are friends for and all that).
Time to leave and we find that nice boy had gone back to the room (unknown to us) and is fast asleep.There was a bus to catch and he refused to get up.Threw water on him and that got his goat.He yelled so much and gave us a talking to and asked us to leave him alone(I suspect two days with us was too much to handle)
So we were back on the bus and safe home but to this day,the entire gang will agree that that was one of the best days of our lives.

friends

Fifteen years ago,when I joined a publishing house as a newcomer,there were hardly any people I could relate to.Desperate to get some company,I latched on to the only other girl in office.She had been around a year longer so knew her way around.There were of course others ,all sniffing around trying to figure out the new kid on the block but as a vary one I kept my distance and got a low down on each of them from the girl I had befriended.That done I got along with some of them but for the better part they were a set of secretive,mallus who one is best advised to keep away from.
Of course over the course of the next few years we had all become friends.Out of this office emerged a group of friends some four to begin with and which went on to perhaps six in all.Twenty years later,we still remain friends and still call on each other in times of crisis and pain.We have had our share of woes,our differences of opinion and our little fights.Despite the ups and downs the relationships flourished and merged so that now four of the original gang have become two(we married our good friends) and the others we meet when we visit their towns or call .
Why I am writing this?A short while ago (one of them who now has long chats with me on gmail )one of them and I were being nostalgic about those them days and I suggested we make a film on our lives in those wonder years.Knowing how lazy each of us is,I figured the best thing to do was blog.
It starts with the short curly haired mallu girl.She of the boarding school kind is very pucca,well mannered,neat to a fault and quiet the perfect little miss.Me...the exact opposite,reckless,untidy,always eating into her space at the work table(despite well worded protests).I sometimes think I did it just to bug her.She reminded me so much of my very proper sister.
The boys(who will now object violently to being called that).One chubby boy with glasses who joined my team and gave me a rose on the first day(give me a break who did he think he was)Amused,I gave him a little rope and we were thrown together so often that we ended up being friends.He was all charm and upmarket aftershave(indulgent sister in the states)His great fondness for unearthing even a remote possibility of a scandal was a great source of inspiration.With his half baked news and mine,we always arrived at the latest office gossip long before the others.
A year later chubby got his friend along to join us in the same organisation.Thin and pimply and a certain tightness (in later years I discovered it was intensity)this boy and I had a huge fight the day we met.Chubby enjoyed himself to the hilt but claimed later (in hindsight) that this was the beginning of a great romance between the boy and me.(to be taken with huge bag of salt despite it turning out to be true).
Over the next couple of months the boys for some strange reason always ended up with girl and me.It started with having lunch together,then trips to the beach(boys and girl had bike,I was always pillion).The beaches changes ,the winds changed and before we knew it there was something in the air.We didn't acknowledge it but the equations were there.Chubby and I on one team and girl and intense boy on the other.Healthy rivalry fuelled the friendship.It was a strange chemistry.Four people so alike and yet so different.Girl always laughed at intense boys jokes.I couldn't find anything funny about them and neither did chubby.Chubby and I loved to create intrigue and danger (it never existed) because that's what kept us going so we were branded together,moles we were constantly digging up dirt.
I think what kept this gang going was that one half was lazy ,indulgent,untidy and always hungry and the other was organised,dedicated,neat and very proper.
A couple of years later the gang expanded to include one more girl (hip,smart and out to enjoy life) and a boy (looked older than us) who lived on the edge.He was so different from us that he became friend instantly.Simple homespun charm was what he had and to this day he remains at heart the same chap.
The bonds remain even though we meet rarely but the stories and memories continue and we shall bring them up as and when memories bubble up.
(all characters in this story exist and even though they may protest about my descriptions,this is my version of the association)

ends and beginnings

Its a full circle now.Today the start of a new year with all its ups and downs.Last evening driving home in traffic,it struck me,difficult to explain but a certain something in the air.Clear anticipation.Was there less traffic,were there more crowds at shops,was everyone in a better mood.I cant figure it out but it was there,a certain atmosphere of a new beginning and it communicates in the air.By nightfall it was getting stronger.By midnight the crackers went off to summon the new year,sms messages non stop,parties late into the night.
The city was well prepared,the barricades were all ready at the beach front,the police was stationed at vantage points,hotels outdid themselves in creativity(some of it led to tragedy).How does a new year become so universal.In our country I can name a number of new years,tamil,punjabi and so on.According to different religions and stars but the New year of the Christian calender is universal.
This morning in church,some more history or myth but nevertheless interesting information.The new year was the baptism of the baby Jesus according to Jewish rights.This morning a 350 year old oil painting restored and rededicated to the church alter.This morning I knew all the hymns at church.I looked at the selection of hymns in awe.Yesterday I sang most of them in the car while in traffic.Why those songs....they were the favourites at school and this morning it all took me back to school assembly,the checking for clean nails,the hiding of dirty shoes,hoping the head teacher wouldn't notice,the playing of the piano for us to march in to assembly and like magic the priest at the church today was the uncle of the only boy who was a friend at school.It was indeed a trip down memory lane at the start of the year.

The cobbler

last week in the mad rush of last minute gift buying,I dashed into a bookshop only to be stoped dead in my tracks thanks to the slipper giving way at the wrong time.One snap and I was stranded on the steps and up against a deadline.What did I do?....just two doors away was Metro shoes so I limped my way across,bought a pair for some 800 odd bucks(not even a pair that I would normally buy) and got back to bookstore with new shoes on and finished all my buying and didn't stop to think much.The broken pair of slippers were left behind in the shop.
A week later caught in peak traffic on mount road,I allowed myself the luxury of looking around at the world while I waited for the lights to change.On the pavement sat a dumpy woman and in front of her were a pair of men's shoes,a pair of boots and an elegant pair of high heeled shoes.She wasn't selling shoes,she was repairing them and then it struck me.I had discarded a pair of slippers without a thought and invested in a new pair.I didn't for a moment think of the possibility that it could be repaired and this is exactly what I would have done a few years ago.It was almost like oneupmanship on friends.All of us got our shoes resoled and redone at regular intervals and we had these shoes for years.Not for us the impulse buys or the throw aways,so what happened to all of us?.We got affluent,we got better pay and so called better lifestyles and in the process we forgot the small trills of life.The hunt for a cobbler near the scene of the broken shoe,the haggling over price of repair and the trill of getting our old shoe back.
The lights turned green and I had to go but at the back of my mind I wanted my broken slipper back,I want to locate a cobbler in that area and I want to stitch it back but alas that moment has passed and I have joined the ranks of the busy and the affluent and it takes a red traffic light for me to appreciate the small pleasures of life,but am I glad there is still some sensitivity left and some happy memories of friends and cobblers.

learning

I have had a lot of learning's this past week and suddenly I am pretty proud that I am still able to learn,still stay strangely innocent in a world where childhood,teens and adulthood are no longer separate stages in life or have each of them got shorter and seems that way.
For instance I went of work in Jeans.That was a first.Never done this but the world around me had changed dress code so what was I doing in my salwar kameeze?.Its pretty liberating to feel like one is back in college,and maybe somewhere my mind will do a flip back to some radical thinking like I did all those years ago.
I also discovered this new community of friends with benefits...for the uninitiated this is not about watching out for the gas man by friendly neighbours,its not about leaving your pet with friends while you holiday.This is simple,a relationship with no commitment,just sex on demand.I think that kind of sums it up.Interesting because by definition friends means commitment on way or the other so that didn't quiet ring true.Secondly these are communities of people who are perfectly sure of what they are getting into and most of them are pretty young(at least by my standards).They are all well aware that the heart may play to a different tune but they control their hearts so that's fine.It opened my eyes to the new age.I think this did exist in some form or the other in the hippie days but now its a norm among the young and restless.I marvel at their control over their hearts,their emotions.
I stop to wonder why for me those walks on the beach,roses and old fashioned chocolates,discussions on books and holidays and stuff like that was what I considered benefits.
I also learned to talk to people twenty years younger than me and stay connected.Its like starting over.I learned to lower my standards to suite the current situation,I am learning that peoples values have changed and while I don't have to change mine,I need to understand the change and deal with it.In between my black and white and grey world,there is a tinge of blue.Like I said I am getting a first hand lesson in emerging sociology and I am still discovering.Do I like what I see and hear?...well does it matter as long as I am aware of the changing world and lean to live in it.

This too must pass

For me December is the cruelest month.Its the start of the end of the year,another ending as a prelude to yet another beginning.Mixed with happiness and sadness,both existing side by side.This December started like all others,except that that heavy sadness that envelopes me (despite the parties and the Christmas spirit) was missing.Its been too busy.
Well into the third week,and the sadness is all prevailing,news of loved ones passing on,the burden of having to break the news to old parents,the psychological handholding that needs to be done,its all taking its toll.I hope to wish it all away but its there,real stuff,cannot be avoided.The closer to Christmas and the sadness continues.
I have already attended two Christmas parties.Laughter,the spirit of Christmas good food and great friends,I enjoy myself,sing all the carols,laugh and enjoy myself and then it happens.This cloak of sadness deepens and wraps around me tighter.Its always there like a constant companion,despite the fun.
The Christmas tree is not up yet,after nine years,we want a new one.The annual Christmas party is still on the drawing board,despite friends telling me they are looking forward to it.Its the highlight of our year.It always has a friend from out of town and a few new people always but like all years the party will materialise at short notice.The apathy this year is killing.
A new job,meeting new people,new cities,travel,all this is what makes life interesting.It all that I wanted out of life and now its all here and I don't need it anymore.
This is a strange phase,its almost like being two people.One the party animal ready for any outing with friends,the other this brooding person.
Like some thick thunderclouds that clear suddenly to expose bright sunshine,I wait....black clouds always pass and this too shall pass.

Womens best friend

In the last week I have had an overdose of rottweiler love.Like lady Macbeth I have had to wash my face and hands at regular intervals thanks to some lavish licking from a few over enthusiastic rottweilers.
My first reaction to being introduced to one of them was to run ten miles in the opposite direction.Here I was faced with the dogs from omen and from Hitlers SS forces and was I expected to be trilled.Most certainly not.To begin with they weigh some hundred pounds and look rather scary,but when they get to be friendly they are a class apart.My first encounter was a timid one.While my friend held tightly to the leash I tried patting the dog .At the first sign of a positive,reaction,I decided to be friends.Not sure if this was a good thing.For the next few hours I had to run and play hide and seek and get thrown over until in sheer exhaustion I had to call for a stop.Four years later I met the dog again.This time she was ill and her energy was not what it was.Long hours of talking didn't get much of a response so I sat her down and talked and tried to play but all she wanted was a bit of attention.She stayed for hours by my side and her liquid brown eyes conveyed a thousand unsaid things.I left the house wondering if i would see her again as the energy ball that she was.Didn't have the heart to say goodbye so left it at that.
Yesterday,I was introduced to two more of the same breed.One was a year old and she had made some unsuccessful attempts to get into my car and having failed to do so she settled for being a long lost friend.Unfortunately when a hundred pound animal throws itself at one its not easy to keep the balance.She was almost as tall as me and decided that two paws on shoulder was a good licking position.So there I was being greeted with a lot of doggy saliva.
The other dog was six months old and was far more interested in the happenings on the road though she loved all the attention.They have promised to come home for tea.

Not everyone can understand my fascination with the rottweiler.From their unsavory reputation to being guard dogs,to killer dogs,they are probably the most misunderstood breed.The average Rottweiler like a lot of people is a loving and socialised dog provided the family that owns it instill the right values in the dog.All three that I know come from families that give them a lot of love and time and take them for walks and actually introduce them to their friends.Non of them are tied up because there are guest in the house.We had to get used to them and I for one hope to get a pup the moment I decide to stay at home full time.These original german dogs are as reliable as any peice of german technology that one can get today so for me it will always be a rottweiler