viva la viva( as in viva voce )

Hey .....i am back ..no- not with a bang, more with a whimper ...tired and feeling low (not my usual peppy self )and why ? all because of a VIVA ,yeah guys you read it right and no ,i was not the one conducting it I was at the receiving end ...please save your pity for some one else .I asked for this .Natural isn't it ... a student has to be tested ....and this was the first VIVA of my life and i wanted to make the most of it. Let me get to the details before you all blink in confusion.
Here I am a student of interior designing and after spending 5 months of drafting sheets and sheets of plans and elevation and sketching objects and figures and giving umpteen presentations on glass,wood and textures ,twisting myself out of shape trying to discern the different colours and their characteristics ....there had to be a test.....and there it was ,the writing on the board(sorry... wall ) ....a viva to test your knowledge .The news sent shivers down our backs .I was not in this alone, there were seven others ....who experienced the same shivers .and worst of all we had to redesign our folders to look like (like ......what ???ahem left to our imagination .?well ..not exactly ...it had to represent the subject of our studies ...interior ,designing and architecture
The further few days proved how secretive human beings can be .Each of us went about acting as though we were just going to cover our folders with a local news paper as we had no ideas (and we called ourselves creative !!!)My idea was to buy a suitcase and roll it in with my portfolio inside and I let every one know that ... but my mind was working on an overdrive for an idea which was easy to do but simple and attractive and of course ....cheap as my funds were low. Till the last moment the secrecy and pretension continued and the day came and each of us walked in with our portfolios ....guess none of us were really surprised ....cause everyone had worked hard at it .There was a model of a three storey building which housed the folder and a kitchen with complete utensils and chimney ,a room with velvet curtains another one with satin curtains and so on and so forth .and of course there was mine .a paper collage affair .....simple in comparison of course but conveyed the idea...so i thought.And slowly the cats crawled out of the bag .....on how long it took them ,how difficult it was and so on .....well that was about the folder .and now about the viva
As i was the seventh one (lucky for some )i cooled my heels refreshing my memory on things i had learnt so far. Any one looking into the room where we were parked would think that we were or some of us at least were getting ready for a bout in the ring.A couple of us were doing the calisthenics ,(to jog the fickle memory, of course ) the dancers were taking deep breaths as taught in their dance classes and another had her eyes closed and was in deep communication with the maker .The game began ....
Each candidate was questioned minutely as he or she came out after their stint with the interrogators ... to get a hint of what was going on ...but the feedback was not very encouraging ....they all had the same answer ....nothing was asked ...i wondered if we were living in the silent era .the external was a architect .....was he ahem! ....challenged in some way or better still struck dumb by our talent and knowledge???? The latter thought was the better option . Then , my number was called...I walked in with a feeling akin to that of walking into the proverbial lions den (there were two in there )
"Introduce yourself please"
"Ahem" (i unglued my vocal cords....it had got stuck when the sixth one had gone in )"my name is......."i began and as a after thought added my age as i ended my intro
(did i detect a surprise???)
"oh okay ...but we do have to question you , you know ".
"sure ..go ahead "(Okay ,so i lost the first round )
And then the scrutiny began My sketch book with my juvenile sketches was commented upon and duly appreciated which almost embarrassed me .The examiner even alluded to MF Hussain ( i was not quite sure if it was complimentary )and then my portfolio ...oh well that did me in .He took pains to point out the bloopers in my drafts.....okay..so they were repairable and as for the questions ....they were actually subject related, which indirectly summed up to a politely worded concerned enquiry as to whether i knew what i was doing there at this age .
and so ended the viva .We parted on a happy note ( so i d like to believe )
The result is not out (thank god for small mercies at least my weekend was saved ! )

The Assignment

The assignment was pretty easy .Make your own logo. Logo for my own interior designing company...My fingers were already on the keyboard when the next few words arrested me “Do not copy, no googling, it should be your own”. The stern tones dashed my hopes and stilled my fingers .Well ,it did make things a wee bit difficult .Exercising my brains was not something I had recently indulged in …in fact I used it only to decipher the complicated plots of the Hindi soaps ..which are beyond normal human imagination .Well home work had to be done and submitted in a weeks time .I took to doodling names and designed logos over any thing and every thing .Inspirations hit me at odd times …my kitchen tiles and my table tops were covered ..My eyes scanned and skimmed over hundreds of logos and signs…as I stopped at every traffic signal ….and often came to my senses at the sound of indignant co drivers honking and cursing me .I noticed that some very imaginative ones were often in the shadows That didn’t help one bit .There were not mine .The days seemed to speed on wings and before I knew there were only three days left and I was logo less and totally clueless .Roping in friends and family too brought me no results Swallowing my pride I approached my ever helpful lord and master .I implored him to direct his superior grey cells towards my problem …..He pondered a while and with the air of a person reading out ones rights declared pompously …”hah its easy” “.Easy?” “Yes add one more C to it” “ECC! Hey that’s the cement company” I shouted in glee. “That’s ACC you nut” replied he. “So what’s ECC?” “Economical, classic and contemporary” came the pompous reply. “Harrumph!” snorted I, silently of course. .The voice of my tutor echoed in my head. it should show case your work ,your talent and your creativity .ECC indeed ..i mentally aimed it at the nearest waste bin and walked out .Desperation sometimes will make your grey matter more active .Names were flying in fast and furious …my pencil flew over the paper but had to discard every single one of them as making a logo for it was impossible .
My wan and dejected look brought in suggestions from people all around . My sister suggested that I use my own name and she even had visions of a TV channel interviewing her on my work .I crossed it out .…My name was a creation of my totally unimaginative parents ….it had no music to it and no creativity at all .Next .my husbands name …the name of our Mahathma ( no way )and then I went through all the names of currently alive family members ..mother’s ,father’s ,kids .uncle’s aunty’s …nothing passed the muster ….then came the Gods and Godesses …..again ruled out as I didn’t want to displease them by selecting just one out of them .I then decided to take the help of the dictionary ..the bible of every English Teacher …..i ran through the shelters of every living being including the toad but then again it was just not ME …..and most of the words were already on bill boards and letter heads .I then crossed boundaries ..searched from Kashmir to kanyakumari ,languages ,dilects anything for the logo of mine .Then it was the international …..browsed for names in French ,Spanish and greek and made some new discoveries that words do not always mean what they sound in foreign languages and I sat defeated .
I sat and sat lost in despair ….a day more to go and there I was logoless and lost .Slowly the sounds around me drifted into my ears ..amongst the din of the construction in the next yard .i heard a sweet cooing .it went on steadily for almost ten minutes .The voice of the cuckoo …I saw her in my mind’s eye sitting in the crows nest and trilling away happily ….the song of victory .The bulb blinked and then it shone brightly ..EUREKA…my logo shone in that light ….the logo for interior designing and building …DBAC …which will expand to read Don’t be a cuckoo ….we will help build your own !!! Original ,Creative and Innovative.

The salesman's love

It was becoming increasingly difficult to leave her when it became night .Her smile looked mournful. Did her eyes hold a reproachful look or had he imagined that? “Darling I’ll be back in the morning,”he whispered, it was for her ears only .He looked around conspiratorially. No …no one had noticed him speaking to her .The mirror on the opposite wall reflected their images .He, thin with a little stoop ,tired hollowed out eyes .wheatish complexion and she beside him ,slim ,fair ,wide beautiful eyes ,dressed elegantly in bright pink sari .They made a starkly contrasting pair .He smiled at their reflection ,patted her hand once more ,lifted the keys from the shelf and went down the steps without looking back .he stood silently watching him go .
Reaching his house he hung the bag on the peg .His dinner was kept on the table..It had become cold .He made no comments it was an every day affair now, Washing his hands and face from the pump outside he sat to eat .Not one did Lakshmi ask him about his being late every day .Today was the same . He could hear the crashing of pots and pans like cymbals from the kitchen .The baby was crying .He heard her scream at the baby asking his elder one to take care of the baby .From her tone he knew that she was aware of him in the next room .Her voice had shrilled. He pictured her …her dark and pudgy face ,her oily plait coiled up untidily and her sari falling over her plump shoulders idly tucked at the waist .She was not always like this .It was only after the birth of the second one and after they shifted to this two room house .He could not compete with the neighbors .He could not stop his elder one from going over to watch TV .But what stopped her from trying to look attractive at least for him .Didn’t he get her two new saris with the festival bonus last month ?He often felt that she was somehow taking revenge on him .She also made sure that she slept with the baby ,turning her face towards the wall .He was not one to force his attention on her .
Quietly he set his plate to one side washed his hands and lifted his mattress from the corner and spread it near the door so that he could look out at the stars in the sky and dream of his lover .She was his only solace .If it wasn’t for her …..He brought to mind her picture, her trim figure, her long mane of hair, her long lashed wide eyes .What would she wear tomorrow? The new green salwar or the yellow chiffon sari sprinkled with red sequins .Everything suited her .He could hear Lakshmi moving about in the room .Her muttering was loud enough to reach his ears and it was meant to .He wanted to plug his ears with his fingers .If only he was with his lover who he could hug .They would lie embracing each other .He would whisper sweet nothings into her ears and she would look at him with her wide eyes and would smile ,her enigmatic smile .He never knew what she was thinking but never once did she protest when he slid her sari and blouse off her shoulders and undressed her and later lovingly dressed her in a bright sari .Their love was two years old now and no one knew about it .He was careful not to raise any suspicion .
Lakshmi seemed to have settled down .The room was in the dark .The baby made suckling noises .He heard Lakshmi cursing the infant .He had enough of all this day to day cribbing and cursing .This nagging from sunrise to sun set .
He dreaded the Sundays when he had to remain home the whole day .It was torturous as he had to spend the day without seeing her even once. He made up his mind. This Saturday he would not come home, he planned to stay with her, spent the night with her. And tomorrow was Saturday He would somehow remain behind...One more day then she would be his totally .A delicious smile spread on his face at the thought and slowly he slipped into a dreamless slumber .
Monday morning the shop owner lifted the shutters to find his body on the floor. He was dead .His hands held close the beautiful faced mannequin in a tight embrace.

The Operation .....N

It was an obsession .One which I couldn’t get rid of .Once I had set my mind to it I had to get it done and so there I was waiting with.... trepidation in the waiting room of the clinic. It was now or never Three times before I had tried the time tested old method but to no avail .It did not last even a month . A friend had got hers done from here and had recommended the clinic My family had no idea of my intention and if they had any inkling I wouldn't be sitting here. I read the board hanging above the room opposite to where I was seated ,Dr Kurien (surgeon) “God “ I prayed silently ,”give me strength to go through this .”I watched the others who were waiting along with me ,Anxiety was writ large on their faces .I could hear my heart thudding in my chest .(wondered if they could too )I almost got up ready to make a run for the door .No one would be any wiser .and none would know I had even attempted to get it done .But my spirit rebelled .Now or never ..I reminded myself ..So now be it !
A nurse peeped out from the doctors room .She scanned our faces and her eyes focused on me ,”Are you for the surgery ?Have you got an appointment for today ?”I gulped and stammered ,”yes..yes ‘” getting up from my seat .My hands felt clammy .i walked towards her and showed her the slip .She took a look and bade me wait .After five minutes which seemed like eternity to me she appeared and signaled me to follow her .Stepping behind her my courage seemed to fail me as I thought of the risk I was taking and of my ignorant family at home .I chanted ,”now or never ‘” like a mantra and trudged behind her
We came to the door which had Operation theater written large on it .I was led inside where another nurse handed me the green gown and showed d me a cubicle to change I handed over my bag and stepped in .Wonderingly I changed ….oh god I was told it was a simple procedure ..then why all this ?Have they got me confused with some one else ?Would I go back minus an organ ?Are they running an illegal kidney stealing racket here ? Should I make a run for it when I could still do it ?Did the nurse have a sinister smile or was it a smile of sympathy ? My mind went on an overdrive .
As I stood contemplating I saw the doctor stepping into the room .I was then led to a steel contraption .the operation table ,told to lie on it and was covered upto my chin with a green cloth .( would the green be replaced by white after I was done ! ) From the corner of the my eye I could see the surgeon washing his hands and donning the gloves and a mask .He came towards me .I shut my eyes tight .He nudged me and asked me to open my eyes and said , “Relax ,itll be over in two seconds .”(what ? My life ? ) I gave him a watery smile .I could see the nurse ready with the instruments standing next to him .I went back to my eyes shut status The operation began .I could smell and feel the coldness of the anesthesia and then every thing went numb .I kept my eyes shut (ignorance is bliss )and opened it only when I was asked to hand him the nose ring which I had , clutched tightly in my hands ..He then proceeded to insert it and screw it tight .I felt no pain at all Well it was over …a wish of mine had come true .the diamond winked and shone as I stepped out of the clinic . I felt like a film star

Back to school

" Triiiiiing" …the alarm set for 5.30 am screeched on time.I groaned as I reached for the knob which would stop its screaming .(Oh why didn’t I throw it away when I had the chance ?)
“Why cant the bl…..d thing wait for 10 minutes more before shrieking ?” I grumbled .
“Simple , because you set it for 5.30 ,”replied my ever correct spouse .I wanted to throw a pillow at him .because I hate people who are so correct early in the morning .
“Ummm may I sleep for 10 minutes more ,wake me up will you ?”
“No way ,I am off to jog and remember you are the one who has to go school .”he replied blithely and proceeded to pull on his socks .
Yeah right .So much for the supportive male .
Resembling the fast forward human in action, I rushed through making breakfast .(I decided to fast ..three dosas less to make ) dressing and was into my second cup of coffee (..my cup of pick me up and keep me there )when my husband jogged in .
“Ready ? have you taken your books and other tools of your trade ?” he asked .
“Yes” ,I shouted making a dash for the car .I sped off .Ten minutes late is ten buses more on the road ..School buses were already plying .I wondered at the plight of the mothers and the kids .Well no pain ..no gain .
I switched on my favorite music as I zigzagged between buses and autos .I cursed at the red signals and evaded scooters and bikes with a skill of long practice ..An altercation between a bus and a cyclist ended up in us waiting for a good ten minutes in a jam
“God …with the power bestowed on you please put an end to it and see us on our way”.It must have been a mass request ,the traffic began to crawl forward .I pulled into the parking on dot . Grabbing my books and sheets and tools of trade ,I ran up trhe steps ,up the short stairs .I paused at the administrators office ,She doesn’t like any one getting in late .I slunk past her room ,as she was on the phone .The peon pushed the register towards me with a sly smile (A tip of Re 5 once in a while works wonders ). Putting P T Usha to shame I reached the class room panting and gasping ..All were present . All heads turned at my entry “.Hi good Morning” they chorused “.Hi” I greeted back .I waited for the next question and there it came , “Have you done the homework ?”
I grinned and nodded holding up my book and sheets .A pair of eager hands pulled at my book and another at the sheets .Within no time the sheets were being circulated and heads pored over the note book .Some scribbling others reading .I went to my seat .Ten minutes more for the instructor to come .I settled back making myself comfortable and thought ..Ah…. it was nice to back in school not as a teacher but as a student.A student of interior designing .

To Kerala in June

A trip to Gods own country Kerala , in the month of June is unthinkable but had to take one owing to a family affair .(my cousin’s house warming ) The reluctant monsoon was arriving in bits and pieces and so the heat was bearable,so we were told .So there we were all packed and set for the exhausting trip From Bangalore to Kannur(rhyming isn’t it ?) .I even packed sandwiches for lunch as we would have entered the hartal loving state by noon .As we sped leaving Bangalore behind ,I felt as though I was seeing the view for the first time ,technically …yes .I was viewing it through the lens of a camera attached to a cell phone .The road was much traveled by me but this time it had a new look or was I looking at it through different eyes (cataract and all )…whatever !Leaving the city behind in good time we were soon on the road to Mysore

.We turned off soon to use the shortcut ..The traffic was at its best ..almost nil . and the road taken (the short cut ) bad in many places which had the driver (my husband )using choicest words to curse the trip ..
From the bird sanctuary at ranganthittu(the bird sanctuary ) the scenery began to change .so did the road bringing a sigh of relief to the lips of the passengers The road side was festooned with carts laden with ripe mangoes ..red ,yellow and orange ..resembling balloons of different colours piled up like tiny pyramids .The traffic was at its best ..almost nil.The road took us towards Hunsur ..using the by pass we py passed the town .
The roadside was dotted with huge mayflower trees in full bloom …carpets of yellow and red were spread under each tree .Quaint villages with their clusters of tiled houses nestled to gether under huge trees giving it a picturesque effect ..The bus shelters fascinated me .They had an old world charm about them
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The time being early morning …bullocks stood free of their carts in the courtyards and under the trees .The carts rested along side Now the carts….They were fascinating They were painted carts..the likes of which I hadn’t seen before ..The sides of the carts were painted with different pictures .Some had different forms of Ganeshas ,others had sceneries and yet otheres sported scenes out of the epics ,Ramayana and Bharatha ..Passing at 120 miles an hour it was so difficult to get a good shot of them .even then my Son inlaw managed to get a few for me



At the end of the last of the villages we spied a serene lake with a tiny island on it .Herons perched on it, in patient wait for their breakfast to jump up There was barren land between the villages which is typical of most countryside other than Kerala .

.Leaving the villages behind we entered the forest area .It was almost magical .Bamboos created a world which looked untouched by human feet . I almost felt that at any time an elephant or a deer would come crashing out of the undergrowth .There were elephant droppings on the road which were fresh .I expressed my disappointment at not spying a single animal .. “its possible that they are aware of your passing through ,after all who is not scared of a lioness ?”guffawed my husband .He never loses an opportunity to take a dig at the fact that I am a Leo and a female at that .I laughed at his PJ ( I believe that its best to humour a maniac especially when he is the one driving )

At the end ,where the forest area ended there stood a tiny temple of The guardian of the forest .) The greenery was dense and thick without any gaps .The road climbed on to enter the beautifu lof land Coorg This was Gods own country indeed ..There was a dramatic change in the scenery again but this time it was not just beautiful but well ordered .Well pruned hedges bordering the coffee plants which grew under the shadows of huge trees .Tiny tiled cottages with their neat hedges and potted plants on the window sills ,flowering creepers on the fences and walls …oh coorg the beauty of the South.One just broke into sunny smiles at the daintily spread beautiful scene one passed through .


Daintly dressed ladies of Coorg(famed for their beayty ) draped in sarees a la coorg style ( with the pallu from the back to front pinned at the right shoulder ,walked along the side ,all on their way to a wedding ,it looked like We sped on through the tiny Goni kuppe drinking in the morning sights of a bustling town .Leaving it behind we turned off to the road that led to Peruvambadi .The road narrowed to a lane at some places . we reached the check post at Peruvambadi, was flagged off to the road newly opened to the public which would take us through the western ghats to Kerala.
Right after the check post we stopped or rather we had to stop to enjoy the mesmerizing beauty of a lake .A few others too were there drinking in the natural beauty of the lake with its deep green waters bordered with trees .Well as much as we wanted to stand and stare the mystical lake we couldn’t as time did not permit us .

..Driving through that piece of Western ghats felt as though I was on my own drive way as the road winded down through the middle of gigantic trees and dense bushes .The newly tarred road at some places were so narrow and had no adequate space to maneuver .A miscalculated move by the driver would have the passengers count the leaves of the tree , from limb of which they would be hanging if they were alive or conscious enough .So we ,especially me, held my tongue in my head till we winded down to a safer piece of road .Before we touched the bottom we spied the huge black rock named Nari Para ,by the locals

.Panthers (nari ) were often seen atop it .Now it had a small shrine of Hanuman and there was a tiny lamp burning just above the shrine .We also spied a couple of tribal colonies amidst the greenery .


We sped down and reached a most welcoming sight …the quintessential teashop (chaya kada ).It looked warm and welcoming with a curl of blue smoke rising from it We stopped and refreshed ourselves with hot cups of tea .The menu included Puttu –kadala ,Kerala porotta and curry(a favourite fare for Keralites ) .There were a couple of cars other than ours enjoying the healthy food .

We started off again and reached the bridge that connected us to Kerala….the kootupuzha bridge .


The scene from the bridge was picture post card perfect .
It again made me wonder at the artist called God .The blue mountains, the green hills and even darker green vegetation and a ribbon of river tumbling down over the rocks

Crossing the bridge the first thing that caught my eye was the Toddy shop right round the corner …a common sight in Kerala .The road had narrowed …for a highly populated state the highway was rather narrow .Shops on either side looked as though they would tumble down on to the road any minute .The vegetation was unruly ,a blur of green ,from darkest to the lightest giving us a feeling of speeding through the middle of green curtains

Amidst the greenery were brightly painted houses that seem to vie with each other in size and style .Most of them looked monstrous , examples of insensible architecture ,of pomp and possession of gulf money .The colours ranged from bright pink ,green ,electric blue, yellow and orange some of them almost gave us an eye sore .A few of them even sported roofs resembling Pagodas .Which had us feeling that we were at the gateway of Tibet .(Whatever happened to our simplicity ?our good old tiled roofs ?)The buses rushed past like unleashed beasts on a mission .We narrowly escaped being smothered down by a couple of them .



A wonderful aspect of Kerala is that it feels as though its one whole town .There are no barren spaces between one town and the other .One cannot rightly say where one ends and the other starts .unlike towns and villages of l Karnataka and Tamilnadu .Pockets of areas with red flags instead of gardens are a common sight in North Kerala (also known as Malabar ).At some places the road sides were festooned with red banners and flags which told us that we were well and truly in Kerala..
Old fashioned churches dotted the country side There were mosques and temples too side by side proving once more our secularity to the world .


Thus we sped on passing Iritty with its cool rubber plantations on either side of the road the small crowded town of ,Mattannur and reached our destination Kannur by noon where my cousin stood greeting us at the entrance of her new home..in true malayali style.

The idea and the application

Mrs .K ,my immediate neighbour and the young mother of two came running to me the other day dragging her seven year old boy who was doing a very good imitation of a stubborn mule .She looked shaken ,her eyes were red and swollen ,her bosom heaved and her breath came in gasps ..Alarmed, I ran to get her a glass of water .The little boy stood by her ,his expression mutinous .Oh ..okay I took a guess at the problem It could be !.Sibling rivalry 2.Home work issue 3.low marks or plain disobedience .As a mother of two grown up daughters and a jobless ex-teacher I was considered an expert at child rearing and a counselor for all school related issues, by the residents of my layout .(my service was of course cheap as it was free ).It was not every day thatI had consultations ,but come the exam time and there would be a long queue in front of my house No, not children but parents holding classworks ,home works and project books .
To get back to Mrs K’s issue ……It was simple in nature ….the younger one to our hero ,a little baby doll had made his new eraser, hers .A scuffle ensued , in order to get it released which resulted in her plopping it into in her mouth .Defeated, her brother gave her a bite at the first available organ he could reach ,her cheeks ,which in turn had her spitting the eraser out along with a blood curdling scream loud enough to wake up the dead .Her still alive mother who was in the kitchen almost had a heart attack .Not really aware of what happened prior to the scream she belted each a good one .The first to the son and the second to the daughter to stop her screaming .It was only then she understood what had happened and did not take a kindly view of her boy’s method .and of course I was the only person available to make him realize that (to drill some sense into his thick skull …her words not mine ) ..and so the villain was dragged to me for justice and counseling .
The hero ,all of seven years stood before me ,with bowed head, rubbing at his cheek where the slap had landed .I could almost read his thoughts . “Why me ? it was she wasn’t it ? its always me who gets the scolding and punishments .That little she devil always gets off scot free.She with her dimples and all .”
Assuring the mother that id take care of the issue I sent her home to the little one who could still be heard screaming ..I sat the hero before me and asked him a few questions
Who is seven years old and who is three ?
Who goes to school every day ?
Who reads English from text books /
Who knows to write Hindi and do maths in the notebook ?
Who knows to ride the two wheeled cycle ?
Who helps Daddy to wash his car ?
Who knows to say please ,sorry and thank you ?
To which he had only one answer , “Me”
He seemed to grow inches before my eyes ,a smile broke free and he looked jubilant as realization dawned that he was a smart boy indeed .
Then the next set of questions followed ,
“Does Anita go to school ?’
“No”
“Does she know to read ?”
“No”
“Can she ride a cycle?”
“No”
“Can she do Maths ?”
“No”
“Does she know Hindi ?”
“No”
He almost shouted the answers .
“And so who should teach her to say sorry and thank you and please ?”
“Me”,pat came the answer .
The clouds cleared and the sun came out .He ran home clutching the biscuits I gave him (for all the correct answers )
A week later Mrs K appeared at my door step ,beaming and bearing gifts .Ten to fifteen homegrown drumsticks .She glowed with pride as she praised her son’s new avatar .I instructed her on how to keep it unchanged.
Now, I have a confession to make .The idea is not an original of mine .Years ago I was acting referee to a fight between my two daughters aged 8 and 3..Retorting to some comment of mine praising the younger one ,the elder one said scornfully ,”oh if she’s so good and clever let her say how much 8*4 + 6 is .”My mouth had fallen open at the twisted logic and now I put it good use it to boost the morale of a seven year old .
May be some of you reading this could use it too

Yantras and Mantras

A tulsi(basil) leaf a day kept problems at bay ….was my sister’s mantra and duly she would pluck one and chew it on her way to school every day .She has never written an exam in her life with out the juice of one swirling in her mouth .How did this help her in her exams ?(something for science to discover )She is not unique in this .A lot of people I’ve come across have their own mantras or yantras which they believe will tide them over life’s difficulties .A friend of mine breaks into a tune of a popular hindi song when she is in a dilemma or when trouble comes calling .So I became so used to her breaking into a hum when we are in a bus stop , at the mall ,or simply crossing a crowded road .and have trained myself to ignore peoples stares when she does this .Yet another friend of mine believed that green glass bangles brought her luck .And more often than not they clashed with her outfits which again invited stares ,sniggers and raised eyebrows .
Its common to see people of all sexes sporting scared ashes of his or her favourite deity with the belief that it will protect them from all evils .and then there are the lucky dresses, earrings ,chains ,shoes and bags to name a few of the yantras My daughter believed that purple was her lucky colour and she had a purple T shirt she was very partial to .She made sure that she wore her purple coloured T shirt to all important dos .That was Okay, but the not so-okay part is that she refused to put it for wash believing that the luck too would get washed away .(It was no wonder that people let her have her way on the days she wore it ) My elder born would never step out of the house without her lucky hair clip and lucky earrings. She had about five pairs of them .(each had a different degree of luck )It was the red coral for luck at the exams ,the blue stones for luck at shopping (getting a discount )the green danglers for the movies (getting her friend to fund the tickets and eats )so on and so forth .Now theres a person I know who carries a dried gooseberry given to her by a ‘sadhoo’ .Come the cricket season all the yantras and mantras come into play .My brother in law refuses to let anyone park themselves in a particular chair as it would bring bad luck to India .And on the days India played he also took care to sip his drinks using a straw as each sip would see India scoring a four or a six and predictably India lost the day he was at a meeting and couldn’t use the straw .Another cousin of mine donned his hel met when cricket was on .The story is that once he had just come in wearing his helmet to see India hitting the winning sixer and from that day onwards his helmet holds a prestigious place his showcase to be taken out and donned on important cricket days .The football season is here .I spied people chanting strange chants with their eyes glued on the idiot boxes( Wakka wakka hey hey )
With the popularizing of Feng- shui ,people carried various things on their person and in their purses ,Three legged frogs ,gold ingots ,Chinese coins and what not .If they could tie wind -chimes on themselves some of them would have done so .Many of my friends. have chimes of different shapes and sounds in every nook and corner of their house The fortune bamboo ,figurines of the laughing Buddha , the prancing horse and the tortoise are some of the popular success yantras (helped to popularize wild life too and chinese history )
In the olden days people were said to carry rabbit foot for luck ,now we have chicken bones (She was informed of winning a lottery while chewing on one ),dried apple cores ,chocolate wrappers ,coloured stones (set as rings on fingers )carried along for luck .An acquaintance of mine refuses to remove a stain from her favourite dress as she fears her luck will disappear with it ( to each his own ! ) .
Now that reminds me …..where did I put my lucky green nail polish ?

C C T V

It’s the age of the CCTV.It has come to stay .There was a time when human eyes were used for this .Nosy neighbours, interested bystanders or just plainly bored passersby. But the flesh and blood have been replaced by electronic eyes, eyes that see but don’t speak. The ones in front of my house has been installed a few months back when the construction of a high rise apartment began .Any thing and every thing can activate them like The bark of my dog ,the sneeze of my husband, the singing of my daughter ,the opening of my door and the horn of my car , the sound of the latch being lifted, and the paper boy’s shout also activates them. I just need to step out of my house and they come on. Their unblinking stares fixed on me.. Like the periscope of the submarines they will appear on the other side of my wall at the slightest sound from my house . Four pairs of eyes. the number may increase or decrease. There are male and female eyes, mostly female ones. ranging from the age of twelve to thirty two . Sometimes an extra pair will also be there, held up by dark skinny arms. I call them my very own cctvs. Sometimes I throw a smile across, other times I ignore them I just don’t like so much of attention . But a lot of things have changed because of those watching eyes. My husband’s usual peck on my cheeks before he leaves has been cut short to a flick of his hand, my usually tardy daughter takes care to smoothen her curly hair down and throw a stole over her pajamas ( who doesn’t like a few admirers ) before she steps out with the dog in the morning and my dog toffee just sparks up and wags her tail as if there is no tomorrow. She just loves them. A friend of mine on a visit noticed them and asked “Hey what’s with them?” “Just ignore them ,they are my live cctv”, said I, and opened the door to her. Another time the same friend joked “hey they speak too. They told me you were out and had taken the car and so u would be late. Helpful aren’t they?” Yeah sure, if you can see them that way but I am not sure that I wanted every move of mine watched and reported.

But they have their advantages too. When a snake wandered onto my verandah they set up a howling that I ran out and with the help of neighbour got rid of it. So was the case when the dog seeing the gate open made a run for it, again they set up a howling and screaming that the security managed to get a hold on her and stop her till I reached. I am also informed if anyone has visited my house in my absence and sometimes I am also appreciated for my dress, lipstick and hairstyle.(using sign language ) They are quick to show appreciation. and have infectious smiles (white teeth and all ) I get a warm welcome when I return home and enthusiastic goodbyes when I leave . .I wave back feeling like the queen of England waving to her subjects .In return I send over clothes, sweets ,old bangles, and toys. We share a relationship of sorts .
My life must be the closest they get to a reality show .Now I can guess how Aishwarya rai bachhan and Amitabh bachhan must feel when they step out on to their verandah with a cup of coffee in their hands .But let me admit …..i love to see their smiling faces early in the morning as I step out to retrieve the morning papers..At least we give them something to smile about .

The professional Help

I waited anxiously ,my eyes on the road .This has to be finalized today .I had got the ultimatum from him when he(my L n M) had heard me grumbling. He had said ,”Why don’t you listen to me ?This house is too big for you .and you know how its going to be in the days to come .”It was then that I decided .I swallowed my pride and put in the ad .
Five of them had come and gone .But they were not happy .I guess my demands have been a bit unrealistic This time I was ready to lower my standards.I surveyed the room I stood in ..all my beautiful collections over the years ,My wooden ganeshas ,my brass lamps ,my blue pottery and my terracotta pots .They shone cause I cleaned them everyday but would the new person do the same for them ? Well beggars have no choice …….
And then there she was .I hadn’t heard her coming in as I was miles away musing .
Her appearance was pleasant .(hmmm …decent enough )I crossed my fingers and sent up a prayer (Lord may this be it )She toured round the house .I showed her every nook and cranny “Four bedrooms ?”she raised an eyebrow questioningly .I hummed and hawed apologetically , “ye..yes you see all four are not in use ,one is almost a storeroom .”(hope the answer satisfied her )
“How about the bathrooms ?’’
Running water all the time ..we have our own borewell”
“Okay ….any outside toilets ?”
“No …all built in”(thank God we have demolished the one outside )
“The tiles look a bit old, it wont be easy to clean ,you know”
“No, no they are mangalore tiles and only appears so .I use the best cleaner ad they clean very fast. one swab and the dirt is out” ( I should have had the carpet out )
She raised her eyes to the ceiling, “Hmmm ….plenty of cobwebs in the corners.” She made a profound observation.
“A swipe with a vacuum cleaner will rid of it ….I have one you know”I replied (resisting the temptation to bite my nails
“These curtains look heavy” Her eyed the heavy drapes and looked at me questioningly
‘Have you a washing machine or do you give it to the dhobi ?”
“I have a fully automatic for all washing and the curtains are also washed in that.” (I smile nervously )
She stood in the middle her eyes going over every detail .I stood, my heart in my mouth.
Well now it was my turn to speak .Taking a deep breath I put forward my demands.
(Deep silence) she cocked her head to one side calculating on her fingers and then she named her price .I gasped .My mouth fell open .Words failed me .As I stoop gasping she said , “Arre ..Madam ,I get four thousand for just sweeping and swabbing a house half the size of yours and you are telling me to clean all those dolls and pots of yours everyday So give me eight and I will think about it .I will need lunch too .
I blinked ….and still under shock blurted “Let me ask my husband …..”
“Okay you do that. Heres my mobile number .Call me when you have decided” Handing me a calling card she walked away without looking back

Death in the family

Death is a finality and never a happy incident .Its inevitable – man or matter it’s the same .It has to be mourned Like the recent death in our family But guiltily let me admit that this death was a welcome one .With it, along with sadness came a sense of relief ---a freedom from bondage Secretly I thought it was more of a suicide than death .but I daren’t say it aloud .
I sighed with relief .No more would I have to wait and watch .I now had time on my hands whereas previously I had no time to call my own . The blissful silences in the evening, no more beckoning to the room where the dead body lay .A relief to my eyes and ears .The books I planned to read glowed at me ...my half done knitting smiled at me No more fights in the house as the bone of contention was dead- dead as a log and lying in peace .Now I knew why silence was called golden .This was pure bliss .I could now wash dishes and do my washing taking my own sweet time and did not have to hurry through it. I did not have to keep a ear cocked for the familiar sound from the room nor rush in with dough covered hands when I was urgently summoned .I was free ..free from sentimental sojourns and free from tensions ,free to go out, mindless of time and day and date .The only person who went around with a sad and tearful face was my daughter .She had lost her best companion .She sat with the dead body staring at it as though willing it to come alive We too were close … sometimes even our dinners were taken i n that room We had been slaves…mindlessly watching the play of emotions day in day out .Now we could sit together as a family and chit chat like we did ages ago .There had been no time for all that, nor for anything else …my flowers had wilted ,my paint brushes were covered in dust .
Better still ..no more shouts for tea and coffee to be delivered to that room and no cleaning up after dinner ..now I could invite over my friends for long chats with no thought of any interruptions .I don’t have to feel guilty of wanting them to leave soon especially if they deigned to visit on a Sunday .Fifteen long years I have lived under a spell which has now been broken
The autopsy revealed it was a natural death due to an overdose of voltage. You see it was my television that died

The dacoit and the sage

June 2 nd , the day my daughter turned 21 .We wanted to mark it as a special day .Suggestions poured from all over but I had a secret wish …I wanted to throw a party for the children at the local orphanage .The idea was welcomed by one and all .So I set out planning the menu and the goodies we would take there I got the phone number of the institution ..contacted the administrator and had the list of the number of children there .our excitement knew no bounds .Just a week more for the D day ….the morning newspaper had the headlines ,Food poisoning in the orphanage and many children had taken ill .Reading the headline my husband eyed me skeptically , “So what do you think we should do ?” In the wake of this if we went forward with our plan we would be eyed with suspicion as there is now a case charged .” My enthusiasm burst like a bubble .Who has done this to the poor mites ? Was it left overs from a feast ?Would they feed their own child such food ? .There were no details (covered up as usual as per my husband ) .The next two days carried even worse news .The orphanages were illegal and now it was being looked into .I couldn’t believe this .First the children are poisoned and now this .I suggested we pay some money so that the sick children get good treatment “.And get associated with their crimes?” The police are looking into this and if you donate anything now there might be an enquiry on us .” retorted my husband .I felt cornered and dejected and to my mind came the story from an old Hindi text of mine .Maybe some of you too have read it in your school days .
The story is of a sage who owned a beautiful horse The sage used this horse to visit the needy and the suffering in the village .This horse was coveted by a local dacoit chief .He made many attempts to steal it from the sage .Each time he stole it from the stable the horse found its way back .Then one day the sage was on his way to a nearby village on his horseback .He spied a traveler lying on the road side .The kind sage dismounted and went to attend to the man .Just as he reached him .the man threw away his blanket which covered him and revealed himself to be the chief .He had done this to steal the horse .The sage seeing the chief made only one request .He asked the chief to take the horse but on one condition that no one was to know how he came to have it .The sage said , “if people came to know that you took the horse from me by pretending to be sick ,no man will stop to help a genuinely sick man if he come across one, fearing that it might be a robber in disguise.”
The times have not changed .The situation is the same .The dacoits still live in the guise of different organizations and charities we hesitate to help fearing these dacoits in disguise ..We turn our faces away from the genuinely needy and poor fearing them to be shamming
To come back to our birth day celebration .we had a subdued one as my daughter decided she had to be mature about such things now . We used the money to buy some winter clothes for the children of the construction labourers who live in tin sheds adjacent to our compound .

The Accused

I stand accused The word has got around
(“Are you sure ?”
“I am positive .she herself told me” ).
My reasons have been discussed
(“Why do you think she is like this ?How can she get away with it ?)
I have been envied
(‘Wish i was so lucky !!She must be a witch .I’ m sure “)
My husband has been blamed
(“How does he allow it ?Does’nt he mind ?)
He has been pitied
(“What a shame !Poor man .Must be his fate”)
He has been accused
(“Surely he is hen pecked .If it was me I’d have thrown her out long ago”)
My mother has been taken to task
(“This is all bad upbringing .Her mother has not seen to her education properly .”)
Young newly married women eyed me with wonder
(“Gosh how does she get away with it!!”)
Eyes follow me everywhere .People whisper behind my back .Some confronted me , not able to believe what they heard
(“What about your children …don’t they mind ?”What do you mean by you don’t do it
?”)
Some were skeptical
(“May be she has a reason .There must be something about her that we don’t know.”)
And there are others who openly admire me
(“Hey ,You are cool man .A true example of empowerment ,a free spirit.”)
I am praised by some ,especially by my friends.
(“Good for you,You are smart and lucky too”)
My reasons have been analysed (‘Must be lazy and irresponsible”)
And dissected .
My crime has been visited on my daughters too.( “I hope you are not like your mother .”)
………..and my crime
I don’t cook …….my husband is the one who does it .cause he loves cooking with a passion and I do not want to commit the crime of separating him from his love

Mother's Day

I was sitting in the idling car ,idly watching the evening crowd hurry home (or where ever they were hurrying to.)while my Lord and master had gone to his favourite place on earth …the hardware shop. Keeping a look out for the 'tow' as we were parked in a strictly no parking zone .(why is the shopping side always ‘ non parking ?’)The only interesting view on my side was the flower vendor’s cart .I’ve passed this cart a zillion times but never had had the time to stand and stare. So now be it ….
A young girl in her twenties was measuring out the strands to the waiting customer .My gaze shifted to the lady sitting next to the cart on a stool .She was around fifty ,frail ,clad in an old sari with patches and ,half dozing in her seat .Her huge nose ring glinted in the lights of the vehicles passing by .And then he appeared ,toddling to her ,he squatted by her side .She opened her lazy eyes and gave him one look and promptly shut them again .He began tugging at her sari .Without opening her eyes she swatted him off .His actions spoke louder than his words and so I could hear him .He gestured that he was thirsty ,he rubbed his stomach to show hunger, all the time he continued to tug at her sari
She opened her eyes and gave him a long look and turned away .She ignored his pleas and turned , her gaze towards the young girl .I took a good look at him .He was dirty ,unkempt and had not seen water for days .
Her ignoring him did not faze him even a bit ….after all she was his mother (of that I was sure now )He continued with his demands, all the time tugging more strongly at her sari .
The young girl seemed totally oblivious to the whole thing .She chatted with the customer as she measured out the strands expertly . .
Giving up, he suddenly stood up and toddled to the cart and stood watching the girl .As the customer handed out the fare he made a sudden grab for it The next thing I saw was a hand at his nape ,another twisting his hand behind and a saree clad leg connecting to his backside sending him sprawling to the ground .It was his mother in action.. all the while she was screaming at him ,”you good for nothing …smoking and drinking .thats all you do... ..not a penny you ll get from me ..28 years old and of no use to any one ..get lost ,you scoundrel .” with another kick on his back she went back to her stool and sat muttering to herself .

Precious Farewells

I do dread the arrival of the morning paper especially so in the last few days .When I see them near the gate (depending on the aim of the paper boy )I stare at it for a few moments reluctant to pick it up but then curiosity (the very same that kills the cat )makes me pick it up and then all my nightmares come alive .The first page carries merciless pictures of shattered bodies of men ,women and children or half burnt limbs ,crying mothers ,shocked toddlers,the gory details for all to see.My mind always goes to the last day of their life .Did they know this was going to happen when they said their farewells? What was in their minds when a wife waved goodbye to her husband at the airport, at the bus stop or wherever they parted from? What did the mother think when she said Ta Ta to her children and kissed the toddler? Did the lover know that he wouldn’t see his girl again? What visions did the parents carry when they waved their only child goodbye? This brings back a picture of a couple I knew years back .
It was in Mumbai, way back in the 70s, we were allotted a flat in the uptown Colaba area . It was actually a four bedroom affair which belonged to a parsee couple Due to their old age and need of a source of income, it was now partitioned and made into two apartments, of which, one was ours, as temporary accommodation provided by Navy On our first day we went calling on them .At first all you would see was furniture all over the place ,antiques and loads of it , marble statues and busts , bronze figurines and seated among them was an equally old man and woman .So frail was the woman ,her skin was like dry parchment and hair wisps of white strands, the man was her male counterpart . both of them were about 75 yrs old.. They had no children The house was run by a plethora of servants (practically ruling the roost )
Mr D had his office in another part of the town and he would set out at about 9 in the morning His car was one of those early models ,most of the time covered with droppings of all the neighbourhood birds (the servants hardly bothered to clean it ) .
One morning for some reason I was late for school and stepped out to see Mr D. waving goodbye to his wife .Seeing me, he quickly stepped in to the waiting lift and .before I could get in, he was off and she shut the door .not looking very pleased.
Feeling lazy to get down a flight of six stories I pressed the button and sat to a side on the steps waiting for the lift to come up , when to my surprise the lift was back in a jiffy and there was Mr D stepping out .looking about him secretively ..the door opened even before he pressed the bell, his wife came out and held him in a tight hug and kissed both his cheeks and he did the same to her .She patted his coat and bid farewell again .Mr .D turned with a smile on his face and stepped into the waiting lift not noticing the little me in the shadows .His wife waved till the lift was out of sight .This time there was no one to interrupt their farewell
It was only years later the significance of that farewell struck me ..Their deep affection for each other and the the fear that it might be the last time they saw each other alive ..Each goodbye was precious.
Then times were different ..you could still have a hope of living long but now each day is precious ,Each goodbye may or may not be your last. So bring out your love don’t mask it behind shyness and ego .Hug your wife ,kiss your children, hold your old parents close to your heart whenever you feel , call up your near and dear ones including your friends at least once a week .Lets make a place in their hearts in case we are destined to bid the final farewell . For each farewell is precious today .

Picture prayers

Who hasn’t sent up a prayer at least once in his or her lifetime ?With the increase in the population and the changing times I do believe the Prayer too should undergo a change It should be accompanied by visuals .They say Man is made in the image of God . so imagine the amount of prayers that reach him everyday Sifting through mails is a huge task even for us then how about mails from all over the world (in different languages that too).Now I am sure the Supreme one too has assistants and translators who decode the prayers for him .(I wonder …what language does God speak ?)
Admit it! in today’s fast paced life we register the picture in a jiffy but have no patience for the writing (unless it’s a will )So too must be with the Almighty .The script accompanied by the image is more interesting and catchy rather than plain script and one look at the picture and the Lord will find it easier to interpret it . Our prayers as pictures do not need translators (provided they are clear and easy to the eye ….modern art may confuse him)..Picture a la Picasso might need the skill of a good interpreter. The script as such may not make much sense .and may take time to be deciphered ,interpreted. ,decoded (whatever )
For example ...When I send a prayer to get my daughter a good proposal ,there might be a problem because I have three of them. All in the bracket of marriageable age .But if I send in a visualization along with my prayer (a picture of the daughter I had in mind ,getting married to Abhishek bachan )it would help Lord almighty to ….
1 ,Zero in on the person recommended
2 .the status of the Groom (rich and famous like Mr .Bachan)
3.The type of physical attributes I want in the groom (tall ,well built and good looking )
So every thing is clear and made easier for the Good Lord to execute my wish.
If the Supreme one is as human as we are (I have been told so )then He will definitely welcome this way of praying .As humans aren’t we all addicted to the Tv programmes and the google images so why would He be any different ?I am sure He too keeps up with the times
So try it next time you pray Visualize your need ,demand ,wish… attach the picture and send it to Him .
May your prayers be answered ASAP

The iD of an Eligible Bachelor

ID 123

“ Hello”
“ Yes ..hello”
“ Sir I am calling regarding the profile of your son I came across in You n Me Matrimony ……”
“Oh yes ..its my elder sons…. Id 123”
“Sir we are interested. Its for my daughter .She is 24”
“Okay… and what is she doing ?”
“She is a graduate”.
“Only a graduate…..why ?”
“Well her ambition is to be a good housewife and mother and so….”
“Oh okay. but we are looking for a professional at least an MBA you see my son is a software engineer ….so we want the girl too to be a professional.”
“Oh alright. .Just thought you were looking for a wife for your son and not a business partner .My mistake ….sorry…. and good day”.

ID 456
“Hello ….is this 934325….”
“Yes ,it is ..how may I help you ?’
“Madam, this is regarding your son’s profile in U n Me matrimony”
“Oh okay ….is your daughter’s profile in it too?”
“Yes her id is 001.”
“Is her photo too attached?’
“Yes maam the picture s are there.”
“Hmmm …let me just check …pls hold on.”
“Sure.” (pregnant silence ….only sound of my heartbeat is heard )
After 20 minutes
“Hello !I got it but ,,,she is not so fair”
“No… she is wheatish.”
“That’s the problem …we are looking for a fair girl.” .
“But maam your son too is not fair ..h es quite dark …….”
“That’s the problem ….we don’t want his children to be dark so if the girl is fair.. their children will not be so dark .”
(phone disconnected……by me ….tongue tied at her practical logic)

ID 789
“Hello sir, I am calling regarding your sons profile”
“Yes ….horoscope match is a must and most important.”
“Exactly …so we have gone ahead and matched it with my daughter’s .Its compatible and other things also seem good.”
“Have you checked it well ?”
“Yes of course ..there is a good’ papa samya.” ‘
“Thats not enough. Where is the Saturn standing ..is it in Jupiter’s house or mercury’s?”
“Ummm.. I am not sure about that ..can I check and let you know? .Any thing else I need to check?”
“Yes ..check the position of Mars and sun . They should not be in their own house but should be looking at each other .The Venus should be in the seventh house and the sun in the ninth house .Please also check the position of the stars after ten years as in my sons horoscope there is a problematic period after 10 years and another at the age 58……”
“Okay sir,will get back to you .” I cut the call ….. head reeling under the strain of the information received and wondering when would all the stars be in place for his son to get married

ID 890

“Sir ,I am calling in connection to a proposal for your son .As per our conversation yesterday I had forwarded my daughters bio data and horoscope.”
“Yes yes …I remember …Id 001 right?”
“That’s right .We have found the horoscope to be matching and we are happy with the other details .So may I know your thoughts on it ?”
“Yes ..we too feel it’s a good match…but just want to know if tour daughter is proficient in singing or dance ..You see my son is a lover of music and dance and wants a wife who can dance and sing.”
(A vision of m daughter of in a bharatnatyam costume greeting her husband at the door in the evening flashed in my mind )
“Sorry sir. .all my daughter can do is hum a few lines . I believe you want a performing artist for your son and not a wife .so…… goodbye and all the best.”

Mrs Singh

Neighbours are interesting .A source of entertainment sometimes .There was a Mrs Singh in Goa .whose only medium of communication was a mixture of English and Hindi in a truly desi form .Every day in the morning her conversation with my mom would comprise of the agenda for the day .
She would enumerate the dishes she made for breakfast ,followed by what she planned for lunch and about getting her two turban clad little terrors ready for school
It often went like this …
“Sat sri akal Ji !”
“Good morning !Had breakfast ?”
“Haan Ji ..made chappathies and bhaji . Get up at 5 ,Then get up .two children and husband .Then give bath and do kangi everyone .Then ready for school bus .Now make aloo gobi and parathas for noon .For chai today make tikkas .and you Behenji ..all work done ?”
Then it would be my mums turn .
Mum could understand most of Mrs Singh’s talk except for the daily dose of ‘doing Kangi’perplexed her .She took it for trips to toilet (part of mornings cleaning ritual) and often wondered why Mrs Singh should unfailingly mention it everyday
.It was a Sunday and all Mrs Singh mentioned was ‘Kangi Kiya’ .Mother dutifully asked after the health of both the kids, whether it was because of something they had eaten . Mrs Singh looked confused .Just then one of the terrors came running out with a comb in his hand demanding “Maa kangi karo”It was no wonder that’ doing Kangi’ was an important part of her daily routine coz both the boys had thick knee length hair …….and the ‘do kangi’ was cleared.

Unvoiced plea

Dear man …all you have to do is to love me a little and care for me . .I don’t need flowers nor do I need candies . a little of your time . Believe me I too have my fears ,my guilts ,my pains and my faults Do let me share them with you .Lend me your ears when I want to discuss my thoughts with you ..it may be a story I heard or some trivia ,lend me your shoulder to weep when I am feeling blue .Hold me close when I am scared and rub my back when I sob silently in pain .
Just think ….When was the last time you thanked me for the clean house you live in ,for the clean sheets on your bed ,for the bottles of cold water in the fridge ,for the washed and ironed shirts ,and trousers your wear ,for the clean plates and dishes you have from ,and the every day food I cook for you ,the snacks I get ready (when your friends suddenly drop in) , for the bacteria free toilets ….????
Why don’t you show some appreciation for the well behaved children you have ,for the well kept house ,for living within the budget ,for managing the crises, for being a good friend and companion ,for being a good daughter in law to your parents
It hurts me when you take your tension on me .I am as alive and human as you are , so don’t shout at me …aren’t I polite to you even when I am angry (cold but polite ) ? then why cant you be so to me .Don’t I watch cricket on TV to keep you company so why cant you watch at least one of my favourite soap with me .Please don’t turn your back and pretend to snore when I groan with a headache.

Have you ever guessed how light I would feel if you laughed at my foibles and made light of my mistakes …(remember all that guffaws ….its my way of laughing at yours ….my jaws still aches ) When you are tense and stressed out , I use sweet and soft phrases to address you , to calm you down . I have sensitized myself to every mood of yours but have you done the same for me ? I know each and everyone of your likes and dislikes ,how many of mine do you know… Imagine that …. after living with me all these years ? .

I would swoon with happiness if you Showed me some sympathy when I burn my hand while cooking ,when I cut my finger ,when I scald my hand accidently …don’t I do that when you nick your chin while shaving .( almost every day ) Do you know that a word of apology from you will chase my anger away. and bring out the sunshine .


Please humour me when I am feeling blue and out of sorts .Even a small drive down the road or an ice cream cone will chase them away

I have left my parents, friends and all things familiar to live with you .So be my friend ,my companion ,my family .Play scrabble with me once in a while …I do play chess with you even when I hate it
I too am a human ,educated and sensible .and tied to you till death do us part .Have spent more time with you than with my parents so love me ,love my faults .
A smile when I get you your tea in the morning ..a hug at the end of the day …a please and a sorry when it merits is all I need to keep me healthy and happy all my life .

Mirage

We went in to see the beauties lined up .The executive assigned to us to update us on their different qualities was a pleasant young man of about 28 .Well dressed but with a smile that quite didn’t reach his eyes ,He had brooding eyes which gave him a rakish look .My lord and master moved away to check on something .The young man came closer ..a little too close for my comfort … “Madam have you made your choice /”
Umm ..not yet ,’’ but I think we’l l go for the grey one ,”
“That’s a good colour .”
“Yes its rather uncommon .”
“Would you like to have something to drink ?”
“Huh ..No thank you ,later perhaps .” I smiled masking my discomfort (did he have to stand so close and stare at my face ?Has my lipstick streaked or is it my hair ?)
Trying not to be obvious I ran my hand over my hair and craned my neck in the direction towards which my husband had disappeared .
(why doesn’t he take the hint ,I asked myself )
I surreptitiously looked down and checked if everything was in its proper place (You know what I mean ? I do have the habit of wearing mis-matched sandals in my hurry to get out ) but every thing was fine .But there he was before me as I had left him ..same eager look .
I moved away a little and put some more space between us and pretended to be keenly interested in the white shining beauty before me .He moved closer and asked ,"Madam what’s your good name ?"
"Mrs. M ," I answered coldly …I felt him move back and turn away .Hearing my husbands voice we turned and the young man indicated that we should follow him .We followed him to his cabin .Seating ourselves he introduced himself .My husband began bombarding him with questions on the beauty we wanted to own .His answers were not exactly related to the questions .He enumerated the qualities in by hearted fashion and each time the question was repeated he would start from the beginning all the time his eyes on my face …tired of this I turned to some pamphlets on the table and began reading them with an interest I didn’t feel .I could feel his eyes on me ….
Something about what he was talking made me look up .His face was a picture of grief .He was saying, “I never take the bike sir , its just that day ,It was our second wedding anniversary on Tuesday and so we first went to the church and then we had some purchases to do .So we were going towards the mall and had stopped at the signal as it was red .The lorry came from behind and hit us directly and she died on the spot .”

My eyes on him and the silence from my husband told it all ,Death is a great silencer .
“Have you got over it ?” I blurted out wishing instantly that I could take it back
Yes its been six months now ,it was in the papers ,for past six months I stayed at home ,without meeting any one .I joined today ..
Tell us about it …if you want to talk about it .,”began my husband ,
“sometimes it helps ,did she suffer or was it sudden ?”
And he talked and talked ..we listened ,interspersing with a few questions to keep him on it .
After an hour he smiled …his eyes had a live look .He thanked us for just listening to him .We had nothing to say coz no comforting words would lessen his loss bit we shared his grief with him and left our contact numbers walked out of the room leaving him staring at the picture of his wife he had dug out of his wallet ……

Chemeen varatti a la' mohandas

Here’s another one straight from Mohandas’ s kitchen and it’s a family favourite . Prawn stir fry in other words-- chemmeen varati The only thing that keep us from having it on a daily basis is the cost of prawns Believe me it’s a luxury and we usually nibble at the pieces to make it last long . So happy nibbling to all those who are going to try it.

½ kilo Prawns medium to large in size

1 tbspn turmeric powder

1 tbspn kasmiri chillie powder (by Everest preferably)

15 pods of garlic (skinned and crushed)

1½ inch long ginger (peeled, sliced and crushed)

Salt 1 tbspn (minimum) add more to suit your taste

Tamarind – the size of a small lime

Mix all the above and keep it aside

For 5 to 8 minutes

Grate ½ a coconut and keep aside

Curry leaves 15 to 20

Add the curry leaves to the above mixture and mix well

Add I tbspn coconut oil to the above mixture

Add ½ glass water and mix well .place it on the stove on medium flame and cook till the water reduces to a paste

Now reduce the flame and add one more tbspn of oil and the grated coconut and stir well till the mixture is dry

Remove from flame and add 1 more tbspn of coconut oil to it and keep it closed for 10 minutes. Stir once more .Keep it closed and open only to serve.

You may serve it in an ethnic mud chatti (earthen pot ….the Kerala type ...) for a dramatic effect …..or in a porcelain dish with a few coriander leaves placed strategically for a picturesque effect These may help in distracting the eaters if something goes wrong .

Puppy(et) love

The makeshift puppet tent at the fair was filled to the brim .She pushed her way towards one side of the curtain and flopped down on the nearest chair she saw .She felt rather than saw him taking the chair next to hers .She had been avoiding him for the past two days but to day he had attached himself to her and followed her .He tried to take her hand in his She let him. He deserved at least that .Moreover she didn’t want to make a scene.

He began , “so why did you run away ?You knew id come after you .”

“I was scared.”She whispered

“of what ? Me ?”

“No ..not you exactly …oh, I don’t know”

“We have discussed this before and now why the change in you ?”

“Its not you ..its your family ..i don’t think they like me”

“My family is my concern ,not yours .You have to think only of me”

“Hmmm ..even then, they need to approve …”

“I don’t care …I love you and I am ready to give them up for you and that’s my last word .”

“Believe me... ..i do believe you.”

“Then don’t stall …come away with me .Lets run away”

“Run away ?...where will we live? What will you do ?”

“Don’t worry .I will start a business” .

“Business ? you ? but where ? How?”

“Trust me …don’t you ?”

“Oh I do ..but don’t you think we need some planning ?”

“Okay …..Do you love me ?”

“I love you…. truly .”

“Enough to trust me ?”

“Yes …yes I do truly.”

“Then that’s all I need.”

“But we cant live on love alone.”

“What else do we need ?”

“Well ….let me see…,”she stammered searching for the right word.

There was a thunderous applause .The show had come to an end .The lights dimmed .People began streaming out laughing and talking at the same time .

She fell silent and so did he

Footsteps were heard coming nearer.Some one shone a torch to their faces and shouted, “They are here”A hand stretched out and picked her up and him along with her as .their hands were entwined If it was thought to be strange ,it was not commented upon .They were dropped into the box and the footsteps hurried away to collect the others

She fell on top of him .He hugged her close and she cuddled closer to him .The lid closed over them and they slept .Tonight was theirs .

The Man with a Mission

He entered the library as I sat making notes for an upcoming event .Tall ,well built with a pleasant face ,dressed like an executive sans the tie .My gaze went quickly to his shoes .They were shiny (shoes betray people )and of an okay make .I had seen him earlier in the office with our HM and thought he was an acquaintance of hers .

“Excuse me madam ,may I sit here ?”

I nodded (I hate being disturbed )He seated himself a little away from me and took out a book .I turned back to my work .I was aware of the silence in the room .As the school was not working that day, the room was silent and so were the corridors.
“What if ….”.my ever confused emotional mind began a dialogue with my practical mind “Should I get up and go ?.”

“Don’t be silly .”

“.i can scream ,cant I…”

“Who will hear you ?”

“Hmmmm….thats true”

Pretending to be deep in thought ,I took a survey of the room .The door was at the other end and I could make a run for it

“Wont you look silly ?”began practical my mind again ,

“So? isn’t it ..better to be safe than sorry .”

“Wait, let him make a move first”

“Right.” .

So I settled down to complete my work .Before that I took out my only weapon from my bag – my mobile, and placed it on the table

My ears were cocked up for any sound from him

“Er ,madam you seem to be busy .”
Nearly jumping out of my skin I smiled weakly ( Dude, are you blind ?)

Oh yes …some reports (none of your business anyway !.)

“Are you working here ?”he continued

(Why else would I be here, on a holiday ..you nit wit ?)

“Yes ..i am a teacher here .”

“Oh great!”

(what’s so great , I am not the president, just a primary teacher)

“May I take some time to talk to you”

(If I had some time I wouldn’t be here. )

I saw him getting up and I placed my hand on the mobile ….i could hurl it at him and buy time to make my escape .

Taking care to hide my thoughts from him I said politely ,”yes ..sir ….”(don’t judge a book by its cover )

He dragged a chair close

He began ,”you see I was not the man you see before you “

(Oh ..a sex change ..wouldn’t believe looking at him )

“I was a drunkard”

(Hmmm…)

“I was only 26 at that time.

(good for you ..so what are you trying to say ? )I schooled my expression to show interest .(its always best to humour a maniac )

“Then I was into drugs.”
(this was getting better and better )

My hand tightened over the mobile and I my feet hunted for shoes under the table

“I have had everything under the sun and then it was women…”

(Dude gimme a break .I ‘ve got the picture …you needn’t continue )

My feet slipped into my shoes (being ready is work half done )

My face expressionless, I stared at him

“Then everything changed…I was brought back from the dead “

(Dude ,you were better off dead )

It was my cue .. “oh ..How ..Who …?”

“My savior .the great Lord. He saved me ,he gave me back my life.”

(Okay ..got it ..now scoot ..)

“Madam ,would you like Him to help you too”

(from what ?from you ?if only he would )

Er,….no thanks , I am a bit busy now ,”said I ,”besides I have not yet attained your status in drinking before you were saved I have reached only at ,an occasional glass of wine …and as I am happily married other things have not crossed my mind yet .When I do need saving Ill surely let you know

I gathered my books and walked away as fast as I could ,without looking back .