Anger. Bitterness.
Over the messed up relationships that people continue to tug on to.
Asking all the right questions, in vain, to the wrong person
Feeling terrible and unfair to be deserving such treatment, yet continue to work.
Suffer in silence, clothe it under the shroud of bravery and the liberation of attending to daily chores.
How is it possible?
Anger. Bitterness. Screeching questions.
That there are people in relationships, as well, who shouldn’t have bothered to.
Who live their lives getting things done for them and attended to.
Sphere of concern limited to self and ego, ego 4x body weight.
Who don’t give a thought to anyone else’s thoughts nor hear their heart crying.
Continue living under the belief that they are entitled to be attended upon and serviced. All the time.
How is it possible?
Anger. Bitterness. Screeching questions.
Somewhere miles away, birthdays are celebrated with home baked cakes.
An occasional chatter of pleasant conversation with mom and if lucky, dad.
Somewhere, not as many miles away, the keys go tapping
In the dead of night with the family asleep.
Trying. Trying hard. To wipe off the anger, the bitterness.
The cruel joke in relationships.
How is it possible?
This too shall pass. Last line.
The relationship won’t. Last line after waking up.
Forget it. Let anger and bitterness hiss its way. You go yours.
Listen to some other music. Write something else.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
THE TRIP TO MALLULAND, ETC.,
Written November 2008 (Digitised July 2010)
So many beginnings, beautiful ones just get written in my head only at all those times when I just can’t get access to a paper or pen, and that’s precisely why, as I was thinking aloud the other day, I don’t know where to begin.. always that’s how starting trouble starts!
Sometimes pretty much everything seems like starting trouble! Got to go back by at least a week or more to begin: The trip to Malluland.. after visiting the place in 2000, this has been my next trip and if I can help it, will really be happy with what I had just now though happy is not the emotion I had when we landed in Guruvayur (Thrissur, to be precise). What’s with these shrines and the temples that make everyone think and believe and start searching for god? No, god lives there, and they have the address. They also know that it’s THE place one should go to, to get peace of mind, get all Qs answered, all troubles vanished; so what, one can stand for hours on end waiting for those gates of the sanctum sanct. to open, to get a glimpse of god. Really, if after all these years you still haven’t heard or spoken or even chanced upon god in you, sorry, the answer’s not out there. Funny, god standing in queue to see god, praying for the other god out there.
To fulfill the prayers to the ‘god’ we were there, with kids and family in tow, it’s only because elders prayed to this god that we were blessed with the first kid and I will add one step further and say that it’s only because the prayers were so strong that the second one followed. Standing there in the queue for nearly an hour, sweltering heat, flanked by the women in starched cottons, traditional Kerala attire colours, their curly hair let down (only literal, please), reeking of coconut oiled water, and the umbrella in hand (See, umbrellas and coconut oil are a part of ‘accessories, if clothing was a category there).
So we are there and need to offer ‘thulabaram’ – basic ally a weighing scale where you place the kid (kid ageing from 0 years to 100+) on one end of the scale and on the other end, some item – could be sugar, jiggery, coconut, coir, rice, and for the wealthy cashews, pistachios etc., What exactly does thulabaram signify? Go figure and if you do, be happy that you have gained an additional piece of wealth, and keep it to yourself, because I really am not in the game.
Nothing dramatic happens. People on one side of my family have prayed separately for the same cause and so though the product s one and the cause the same, we have to honour each family’s prayers separately. So plantains plus puffed rice (I think, am not sure because there were too many white things around in the room)gin for kid 1 followed by same a+b for kid 2.
The whole event did not take more than 5 minutes and the only spice there was that S decided he was just not liking it all even one bit and decided to have a go at my saree pallu – he did a great job at it, and soon, my good safety pin that had so long taken care of ‘public izzat’ as people refer, decided to have fun and there was the saree, beginning to sprawl.. oh, am sure Mahabharat and Draupadi episode is something everyone is familiar with, right? Anyway, everything comes to an end and we were done with this.
Next job. Visit the sanct.s. and meet god. Sorry, we just learned that the doors were closed for ‘break’, and would open only after an hour We also learned that in an hour and a half the door to the only place which is run by Brahmins and gives ‘Brahmin food’ will close. Anyone’s guess where we were next.
Then, we come out and see that the queue to see god once the doors open is only 3 kms long as far as the eye can see and another 3km probably as far as the eyes can’t. So, this is where quick and smart decisions are made. We decided that it would be too much torture for the kids to make them wait (am telling you, having kids does have its perks) and so the kids and I decide to go sit in the Tavera with the AC full on. And sitting there, life didn’t seem so bad, you know. In god’s own country that was the only man owned/hired car that would soon become the principal reason to appreciate life.
This is where I tend to exaggerate and make it sound like my trip was too bad. Not really. Subash Bose park in Cochin was quite nice. Park apart, with all it’s hanging bridge, slides, merry-go-rounds etc., and overlooking the Marine Drive (please don’t get me started on how dirty the water was, appreciate the beauty and don’t get s realistic for once… my thoughts, I mean), kids had a good time and so did the adult kids, the AK pairs, once on their engagement eve and the other on those rare evenings that they got like this).
Went after that to a good bakery, feasted and got back home by 9pm to feast more. In all our functions, food takes supreme importance. Every activity happens between meal times, it feels like. I love food, but my idea of good food is definitely not rice or veggies, added at the last minute to something like 20kgs of grated coconut which is the meal for about 10 people in the household. Agreed, coconut is in aplenty, but surely one heard of distribution and exports and all that? Looks like these people haven’t or if they have, they don’t care. Don’t know which was worse, the coconut bit or those rice grains – special red ones, where I am sure if you had the skill or training, you could write your autobiography or draw an enlarged version of the Taj Mahal. Of course, the cute there letter word for those 3 sentences would be ‘fat’. See, I may fit the description of the 3 letter word, but then, the things I own or what I’d like to see around me is certainly ‘slim, trim’, it’s all aspirational (the only strong thing dissuading me from getting a new mobile, the current one being the N6300 model!).
The engagement function went off pretty well and I realized as I just saw the snaps that my old ‘Teacher type’ blouses have to really be dumped, because they suck bigtime. 60 year olds have dumped them, where did I forget to do this? Nothing else much except more red rice, more coconut, and a bit f shopping for essentials that others had asked for.
The return journey – train leaving the city at 9.40 am, reaching Bgle – 7.40 pm. Life saving AC not there. 17 pieces of luggage, can be classified as 3 for food, of which one is during the journey, and 2 after we land, the remaining 14 pieces again can be divided as 5 strollers and the rest bags, hand bags included. Poin to mention, no. of people travelling – 6 adults and 2 kids. Moral of the story : If ever you find yourself in a similar situation before you board the train, DON’T BOARD! Cancel the ticket, take an evening train instead that at least reaches next morning wee hours or something, so that a better part of the journey is slept with and hence dealt with.
I think that in the return journey we put the most food-loving Gujju family to shame, those known to start opening one food item after another, the minute they rest their feet and settle down in their seats, go on endlessly and laboriously peeling those oranges, those peanuts, adding lime to their channa chat, pickles to their paranthas and back again to peeling those oranges.. you get the drift? That day I learned that I will no longer admonish these Gujjus because as I said earlier, we beat them hands down (bags, down, with food, to be precise!) on that journey. Exasperating, frustrating, those minutes just didn’t seem to pass, with these hyperactive kids ensuring they spread their enthusiasm to you for free, you have no choice, just take it. Finally, reached the Cantonment station. I somehow just need to come back after 48 hours of any trip, seems like I start missing everything about the place and my life here. Agreed, it’s the same old story, but I’d rather my story be happening in a place am comfortable with, you know.
Fast forward, next week… nothing much there. Saw supposedly ‘The best goodbye ever – Dasvidaniya, Russian for Goodbye) and was a total let-down. What did I expect? Why didn’t the movie strike a chord although he central idea does – what is the list you would make if you knew you had only 3 months to live? (Have to answer this Q but will do it as a separate piece, not here). Anyway, was disappointed after that movie, these expectation let downs, especially in movies I hate. Books and movies, shouldn’t let you down. In fact, ages since I have read a great book. I have been reading a lot of ‘average’ books these days, why I wonder, just coffee table. I do not want the Classics and real literature that I used to so devour those days, maybe it’s because life is getting complicated and busy enough trying to grapple between office and work (the two are distinct, have made no mistake there) and the kids, and my need to watch another movie, read another book, visit that that other place etc., which these days, is in constant battle with the mother’s need to give the extra attention to the kids, take them to the park more no. of times than to a mall, tell that story etc., etc., Maybe it’s always there for every woman, the ‘mommy’ act, the ‘woman’ act, the ‘want-to-say-girl’ act keep clashing paths. As I think, no war greater than the ones which your multiple Us keep having inside your head. Most times, I think this war is healthy and which is what keeps my peace, if you can call it that. At least, I haven’t let anyone die and quit the war arena.
And how one forgets the things that matter a lot? We left for Kerala Nov 7th evening, Tuffy died Nov 8th around 4am. I saw him sitting by their gate the evening I left and knowing fully that that’s the last am seeing him… Srinath told me he was up and about since they had given him drips earlier that day, I thought the candle burns brightest towards the end… fading glory. In a way, am glad I wasn’t around on Saturday to see him lifeless, becoming an It.
Shall now go back to the average book am reading, ‘Keep off the Grass’ by Karan bajaj. Just not sleepy tonight. One last word – just like I know I can never see all the places I want to see which is the whole world, I cannot write everything that goes on in my head, sheerly (am sure that word doesn’t exist) because my hand hurts and as always, the pen can’t keep pace with my thoughts…
So many beginnings, beautiful ones just get written in my head only at all those times when I just can’t get access to a paper or pen, and that’s precisely why, as I was thinking aloud the other day, I don’t know where to begin.. always that’s how starting trouble starts!
Sometimes pretty much everything seems like starting trouble! Got to go back by at least a week or more to begin: The trip to Malluland.. after visiting the place in 2000, this has been my next trip and if I can help it, will really be happy with what I had just now though happy is not the emotion I had when we landed in Guruvayur (Thrissur, to be precise). What’s with these shrines and the temples that make everyone think and believe and start searching for god? No, god lives there, and they have the address. They also know that it’s THE place one should go to, to get peace of mind, get all Qs answered, all troubles vanished; so what, one can stand for hours on end waiting for those gates of the sanctum sanct. to open, to get a glimpse of god. Really, if after all these years you still haven’t heard or spoken or even chanced upon god in you, sorry, the answer’s not out there. Funny, god standing in queue to see god, praying for the other god out there.
To fulfill the prayers to the ‘god’ we were there, with kids and family in tow, it’s only because elders prayed to this god that we were blessed with the first kid and I will add one step further and say that it’s only because the prayers were so strong that the second one followed. Standing there in the queue for nearly an hour, sweltering heat, flanked by the women in starched cottons, traditional Kerala attire colours, their curly hair let down (only literal, please), reeking of coconut oiled water, and the umbrella in hand (See, umbrellas and coconut oil are a part of ‘accessories, if clothing was a category there).
So we are there and need to offer ‘thulabaram’ – basic ally a weighing scale where you place the kid (kid ageing from 0 years to 100+) on one end of the scale and on the other end, some item – could be sugar, jiggery, coconut, coir, rice, and for the wealthy cashews, pistachios etc., What exactly does thulabaram signify? Go figure and if you do, be happy that you have gained an additional piece of wealth, and keep it to yourself, because I really am not in the game.
Nothing dramatic happens. People on one side of my family have prayed separately for the same cause and so though the product s one and the cause the same, we have to honour each family’s prayers separately. So plantains plus puffed rice (I think, am not sure because there were too many white things around in the room)gin for kid 1 followed by same a+b for kid 2.
The whole event did not take more than 5 minutes and the only spice there was that S decided he was just not liking it all even one bit and decided to have a go at my saree pallu – he did a great job at it, and soon, my good safety pin that had so long taken care of ‘public izzat’ as people refer, decided to have fun and there was the saree, beginning to sprawl.. oh, am sure Mahabharat and Draupadi episode is something everyone is familiar with, right? Anyway, everything comes to an end and we were done with this.
Next job. Visit the sanct.s. and meet god. Sorry, we just learned that the doors were closed for ‘break’, and would open only after an hour We also learned that in an hour and a half the door to the only place which is run by Brahmins and gives ‘Brahmin food’ will close. Anyone’s guess where we were next.
Then, we come out and see that the queue to see god once the doors open is only 3 kms long as far as the eye can see and another 3km probably as far as the eyes can’t. So, this is where quick and smart decisions are made. We decided that it would be too much torture for the kids to make them wait (am telling you, having kids does have its perks) and so the kids and I decide to go sit in the Tavera with the AC full on. And sitting there, life didn’t seem so bad, you know. In god’s own country that was the only man owned/hired car that would soon become the principal reason to appreciate life.
This is where I tend to exaggerate and make it sound like my trip was too bad. Not really. Subash Bose park in Cochin was quite nice. Park apart, with all it’s hanging bridge, slides, merry-go-rounds etc., and overlooking the Marine Drive (please don’t get me started on how dirty the water was, appreciate the beauty and don’t get s realistic for once… my thoughts, I mean), kids had a good time and so did the adult kids, the AK pairs, once on their engagement eve and the other on those rare evenings that they got like this).
Went after that to a good bakery, feasted and got back home by 9pm to feast more. In all our functions, food takes supreme importance. Every activity happens between meal times, it feels like. I love food, but my idea of good food is definitely not rice or veggies, added at the last minute to something like 20kgs of grated coconut which is the meal for about 10 people in the household. Agreed, coconut is in aplenty, but surely one heard of distribution and exports and all that? Looks like these people haven’t or if they have, they don’t care. Don’t know which was worse, the coconut bit or those rice grains – special red ones, where I am sure if you had the skill or training, you could write your autobiography or draw an enlarged version of the Taj Mahal. Of course, the cute there letter word for those 3 sentences would be ‘fat’. See, I may fit the description of the 3 letter word, but then, the things I own or what I’d like to see around me is certainly ‘slim, trim’, it’s all aspirational (the only strong thing dissuading me from getting a new mobile, the current one being the N6300 model!).
The engagement function went off pretty well and I realized as I just saw the snaps that my old ‘Teacher type’ blouses have to really be dumped, because they suck bigtime. 60 year olds have dumped them, where did I forget to do this? Nothing else much except more red rice, more coconut, and a bit f shopping for essentials that others had asked for.
The return journey – train leaving the city at 9.40 am, reaching Bgle – 7.40 pm. Life saving AC not there. 17 pieces of luggage, can be classified as 3 for food, of which one is during the journey, and 2 after we land, the remaining 14 pieces again can be divided as 5 strollers and the rest bags, hand bags included. Poin to mention, no. of people travelling – 6 adults and 2 kids. Moral of the story : If ever you find yourself in a similar situation before you board the train, DON’T BOARD! Cancel the ticket, take an evening train instead that at least reaches next morning wee hours or something, so that a better part of the journey is slept with and hence dealt with.
I think that in the return journey we put the most food-loving Gujju family to shame, those known to start opening one food item after another, the minute they rest their feet and settle down in their seats, go on endlessly and laboriously peeling those oranges, those peanuts, adding lime to their channa chat, pickles to their paranthas and back again to peeling those oranges.. you get the drift? That day I learned that I will no longer admonish these Gujjus because as I said earlier, we beat them hands down (bags, down, with food, to be precise!) on that journey. Exasperating, frustrating, those minutes just didn’t seem to pass, with these hyperactive kids ensuring they spread their enthusiasm to you for free, you have no choice, just take it. Finally, reached the Cantonment station. I somehow just need to come back after 48 hours of any trip, seems like I start missing everything about the place and my life here. Agreed, it’s the same old story, but I’d rather my story be happening in a place am comfortable with, you know.
Fast forward, next week… nothing much there. Saw supposedly ‘The best goodbye ever – Dasvidaniya, Russian for Goodbye) and was a total let-down. What did I expect? Why didn’t the movie strike a chord although he central idea does – what is the list you would make if you knew you had only 3 months to live? (Have to answer this Q but will do it as a separate piece, not here). Anyway, was disappointed after that movie, these expectation let downs, especially in movies I hate. Books and movies, shouldn’t let you down. In fact, ages since I have read a great book. I have been reading a lot of ‘average’ books these days, why I wonder, just coffee table. I do not want the Classics and real literature that I used to so devour those days, maybe it’s because life is getting complicated and busy enough trying to grapple between office and work (the two are distinct, have made no mistake there) and the kids, and my need to watch another movie, read another book, visit that that other place etc., which these days, is in constant battle with the mother’s need to give the extra attention to the kids, take them to the park more no. of times than to a mall, tell that story etc., etc., Maybe it’s always there for every woman, the ‘mommy’ act, the ‘woman’ act, the ‘want-to-say-girl’ act keep clashing paths. As I think, no war greater than the ones which your multiple Us keep having inside your head. Most times, I think this war is healthy and which is what keeps my peace, if you can call it that. At least, I haven’t let anyone die and quit the war arena.
And how one forgets the things that matter a lot? We left for Kerala Nov 7th evening, Tuffy died Nov 8th around 4am. I saw him sitting by their gate the evening I left and knowing fully that that’s the last am seeing him… Srinath told me he was up and about since they had given him drips earlier that day, I thought the candle burns brightest towards the end… fading glory. In a way, am glad I wasn’t around on Saturday to see him lifeless, becoming an It.
Shall now go back to the average book am reading, ‘Keep off the Grass’ by Karan bajaj. Just not sleepy tonight. One last word – just like I know I can never see all the places I want to see which is the whole world, I cannot write everything that goes on in my head, sheerly (am sure that word doesn’t exist) because my hand hurts and as always, the pen can’t keep pace with my thoughts…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)