Shivam Diaries

Author: shivam

  • Ammalu

    I long for the sun when it rains ; I long for the rains when it shines. But, whether it shines or rains, I long for you, my  my moon light !
    ———————————————————————————-
    “Any woman would like to have a few minutes for her own purpose, to sit in a corner, muse on her childhood, her parents, play mates, siblings etc. After finishing all my work, feeding you and children, cleaning the kitchen, When I try to steal an hour for me, you yell, ‘Ammalu, kAppy’
    ” Ammalu, You forget that, I too have my own childhood and playmates to muse upon and it is to ignite those thoughts, I ask for kappy. Is there a better stimulant than kaappi ?”
    “Can’t you prepare one cup just for your own need ?”
    “I can make hundred cups but it won’t be as tasty and stimulating as your make””Wrong age for you to look for stimulants. Is is OK. I will make your happy only for taste. “”Yes, Ammalu, only for taste ”
    ————————————————————————————————
    “Ammalu, happy valentine’s day”
    “Enakku vaaleduppum illai, vaythu valiyum illai””You have carried enough load and I don’t say that you are carrying now,  though you are capable of it. Valentine’s day is a special day for man and woman to express their love for each other.”
    “What love is there between us to express? Moreover love is not to be expressed but to be experienced. Love loses its charm when expressed.”
    “But how will the other one know if love is unexpressed?”
    “If the other knows only through expressions, he or she is not worth to be loved”.
    “Ammalu, even animals express their love through their body language”
    “Body language yes, but not through mouth”.
    ”Your ideas are antique, Ammalu”.
    “Love is antique, but ever fresh”
    ——————————-
    “Patti, respecting your age and good deeds, I have already allowed you ten minutes extension and if you don’t follow me instantly, I will throw my rope bundle  at you and pull you by neck” The lord of death issued the final
    warning.
    “Another 5 minutes, please ” the good old lady pleaded, “let me complete the task on hand”
    “What noble cause this worthy woman is anxious to complete !” wondered Dharma. He waited for a few minutes
    and unable to contain his anxiety, peered through the window.
    Patti, the good old grand ma, was polishing her nails !”At 95, this woman sits on the floor, stretching her limbs, bends her body and prunes and polishes her nail !” He could not contain his surprise.Yes, you guessed right. He gave her 20 minutes.
    ———————————————————–
    ” I have decided to help you right from today, in your kitchen work. How do I do that, Ammalu?”
    “By not coming anywhere near the kitchen and calling my name every other minute”
    ———————————————————————————————-
    ” Bharyaa roopavathi satru’ – lovely wife is enemy’ is a wise saying, Ammalu”
    ” I know that. I also know what you are going to say next . ‘ I don’t want to have an enemy in my house and that is why I married you’ right?”
    ” Not exactly, but ….”
    ” I also know the next line of the wise-saying- ‘putra satru apandithah :’ unscholarly son is enemy – Your schoarly father didn’t want to have an enemy in his house and that is why he packed you off with me”
    Not exactly, but—–“” you have said it, my lovely, scholarly husband; not once but twice”
    —————————————————————————————
    “Ammalu, I am standing for election as an independent candidate. Go and tell every friend of yous that I am a honest man “
    “You are a honest man. Anyway, give me Ra. 50,000 for canvassing “
    “Rs. 50 thousand just to go round and tell your friends ? That is looting “
    “OK. Don,t give a pie. I will give five Rupees to our servant maid and ask her to tell every one that you are NOT a honest man””OMG, Ammalu, you stand for election. You are more honest than me and more suited for a political post “
    —————————————————————————
    “Where is that guy who used to stand on the bench and give orders, in our class?”
    “He is sitting in the Supreme Court bench now”
    –————————————————————————————–
    ” I’m a good man”

    “How you say?”
    “Because everyone says so”
    ” you aren’t a good man”
    “How you say ?”
    ” Because everyone says so ”
    ———————————————————————–
    “What happened to all my coaching on Advaitham, Dwaitham and Visishtadwaitham, Ammlu?’
    ” They all have come back to you with added merit. I have been adding them every day in the sambar, rasam and other dishes I have been serving you”
    ————————————————————————–

  • Another migration

     
    Human, animals, birds, fish, insects – all migrate, for various reasons.
    My first migration was on the shoulders of my father, when I was a baby of six months.
    By walk or bullock cart drive, he lifted me from Perinkulam to PAlakkAd,. My second
    Migration was around December 15th, in the year 1959, when I left for Hyderabad, to report for duty at NIN, on the wind -up of our Trichur Unit, where I had joined a WHO project, some six months earlier. Our Institute, till then, part of the Pasteur Institute building, Conoor, was to have its own building, a much bigger set up, in a 36 acres of land, in the Osmania University premises. That was 55 years ago, when I was 23 years old .
    Earlier to that, I had never travelled beyond Madras, the present Chennai. None in our family visualized then, that my migration to Hyderabad was another landmark as that of my father’s, heralding a series of such transplantations later.
    imageIn due course, my two sisters too joined me at Hyderabad, got employed and established their families. Me and my siblings would not have had the quality of education we had at Palakkad, had our father not migrated and established a successful business. So were our offspring, had I not shifted to Hyderabad and lived among scientists and academicians.
    When I landed at Secunderabad Railway Station on a foggy morning, with an iron trunk, bedroll called hold-all and cash of Rs. 500.00, there was another young man along with me, C,M.Jacob from Trichur, taller than me and lesser talking, my colleague.. Our friendship still continues happily. After retirement, He is settled in a flat in his hometown and I never miss meeting him during my Kerala trips.
    Jacob and me, hired a room, in the first hotel we could view, opposite to the Railway station. It was owned and maintained by a PAlakkAd Iyer. Food was OK but nights were nightmares due to the incessant invasion of bed bugs. Not one or two, in hundreds, they attacked us. Not interested in shedding our valuable young blood for no valid cause, we started searching for houses or apartments. One of our senior colleagues, Sri.K.S.Ramanathan, who too was searching for a house, was kind enough to help us. Someone had told him that, in the villages around our Institute, Brahmins were given priority in allotment and bachelor’s were at the bottom of the list.
    Three of us, after the office hours, started hunting for house, around our workplace. Ramanathan Sir, pulling out his sacred thread through the shirt opening, holding it in his right hand, used to stand before the house gates and shout, ‘Brahmman, illu unthaa?’- we are Brahmins. House available( for rent)?
    I vividly see before my mind’s eye, KSR’s posture with one leg to the front, projecting a part of the sacred thread high in his fingers and our waiting behind him awaiting a positive reply from the prospective house owner.
    Kalpathy Ramanatha iyer was a simple and humble man. His eldest son Mani, took me to Kothagudam coal mines, on his official trip and from there to the famous Badrachalam Temple. I remember that good friend at times, when I sing Ramdas krities. He died young driving his family and us, in deep sorrow.
    His younger brother K.R.Balasubramanian was my college. Balu, now happily settled at Hyderabad, like his father and siblings, has acquired the good qualities of the Kalpathy soil.
    Coming back to our house hunt, within a week or so, we were able to get on rent a house for us and one for KSR too, not far from our workplace. Our house, in a village called Seethafalmandi, behind our Institute, was spacious and therefore, we could accommodate three more colleagues, all Keralites from our Conoor office, Chandrasekharan, Balakrishnan Nair and C.M. Manual.. I named our bachelor quarter as Panchavadi, only to match the number of occupants, not in any to remember the forest dwelling of the great Rama. Panchavadi, soon became popular among children, as we allowed them free access to our house and play in the front garden. Our major assets were five steel trunks, five coir cots with bamboo frames which resembled the palanquins of poor people carrying them in their last journey and a few aluminum vessels. The minor assets were, we, ourselves, who never bothered about our future. During summer months, we pulled out the light -weight cots outside and slept facing the stars. We had a cook, Govindan Nair, who made breakfast and lunch for us. For night meal, we used to walk to the Taj Hotel in the city, 5/6 km away. That twelve km walk daily, contributed for the present strength and steadiness of my legs.
    Of my room mates, Manual left for Bombay when he got a job with the Air India. In his place, we added Artist Dharamdathan, who later immortalized Guruvayoor Kesavan, by giving a shape to the famous pachyderm’s fame. Yes, the elephant statue, you see in Guruvayoor was sculptured by our friend. Also, the Yakshi at the Malampuzha dam.
    When Dathan left, Balakrishnan’s brother, Ramachandran joined us.
    I lived in ‘Panchavadi’ for nearly ten years and left that friendly surroundings with a heavy heart to occupy a lovely flat in the premises of our Institute. Manual, Dathan and Nair have left us for another rented or own house, in another world, name I don’t know. Jacob remains unmarried and slowly walks down to the nearest hotel for lunch and
    Dinner. He has stopped smoking consequent to the strict warning from his doctor to stop smoking or get get smoked. Soft spoken, cool- headed Jacob ( Chakku for me ) still continues to be a gentleman, despite remaining a bachelor.
    In the picture clicked on the eve of our leaving Trichur, posted below, I’m in the center with a neck-tie. To my left, Jacob, to my write Lonappan, one of our Trichur drivers, who too came to Hyderabad but left soon. Don’t know where he is now, in Kerala or with his Father in Heaven.
    Mrs. Padma Ganapathy, Dr. Swaminathan and Dr. Ganapathy are seen seated in the front, though their faces are not clearly visible in the photo. Late Dr. Ganapathy, rendered remarkable service in the field of leprosy. His contribution to the cause of lepers, was recognized by the nation through a Padma Award, Dr. Swaminathan lives in USA, with his daughters.
    There were nearly a dozen more staff in Trichur, out of which I know about the whereabouts of only one friend, Balan.
    Many of my former colleagues have passed away, half a dozen recently. Death was a fearsome monster for me earlier. No more now. One more transplantation- that is how I feel about it now.
    Will there be a problem for me to get a home on rent, when I go there?
    Who knows the same Ramanathan Sir, won’t come to my help and shout standing at the front gates of houses,’Brahmman, illu untha?
    But will he have a sacred thread to pull out from the shirt gap and project on his finger?
    It is a silly doubt. But that is the only doubt I have about the life -after.
    I see you smiling. But I can tell you, lucky are those who have only such silly doubts about the unknown region of the afterlife. Think of the plight of a friend of mine, who returned after hearing Garuda Puranam discourse and lost sleep fearing what would be his fate, after death, if he slips and falls into the Vaitharani River, while crossing it, holding the tail of a bull calf!
    Love,
    SP

  • human sympathy floods

    “God is merciless”
    “What happened? Why this sudden curse upon God? A few minutes ago, you praised Him as Ocean of Compassion!”
    “Our Sambhu Sir passed away”
    “That old man, in your opposite house? A few minutes ago, you blamed him for all your ills. By death, he acquired ‘our Sambhu’ status from you?”
    “SP, respect the dead. Shed a tear drop for a good man”
    “I don’t believe in respecting some one just because he is no more. I have the same respect for him which I had when he was alive. But let me tell you, I’m not sad on his death. In fact I’m happy that he is relieved of his year- long agony”
    “Happy on someone’s death. Cruel man!”
    “He was 85, ailing for an year from an incurable disease, his return to normalcy was ruled out. What is there to mourn about his death?”
    “You could at least feel sorry”
    “Feel sorry for what ? For his not returning and continuing to struggle?”
    “That only shows the basic human sympathy has completely dried in your heart. Inhuman you are”
    “Anyway, I don’t want to stay in your company any more. You pay the hospital dues, collect the body and arrange for cremation. I’m leaving”
    “Wah, what a man you are, with springs of human sympathy flooding your heart!”

  • Achievements not one or two

    “Tell me, in short, your one achievement in life, SP”
    “In yesterday’s pooja I could sit flat in SukhAsan for nearly two hours and do nearly twenty sashtAnga namskArams. I have said two, though you asked for only one.”
    “Foo! You call those achievements ? I thought you would say,
    ‘I constructed a house, educated my children, was never afraid of my wife, wrote a book, uploaded songs in the Youtube, I could recite 20 hymns by heart etc, etc’”
    “I have done all those. Anyone else too could have done all those. But, many of my age can’t even bend their knees, leave away sitting on the floor for an hour. And, hopefully, this achievement is going to help me in the long run better than my house or my song or my novel”
    “Long Run! How long, you expect to run”
    “As long as my leg runs. As long as my heart doesn’t beat erratically.”
    “That is fine. Let me come back to the point of discussion. I agree your property or poetry will not help you in preventing decay of your bones and muscles. But singing Hymns praising God will help”
    “I don’t sing to praise any person, including God”
    “Person? God is a person for you?”
    “For you! Didnt you say I should sing to please God? If God can be pleased by praising, he should be only a person. Not the Supreme Reality, who is beyond Time, beyond Space”
    “A Peculiar man, you are!”
    “True. That is my another achievement. Ok. Let us come back to the topic of discussion. Can you, in biting cold, wait for the school bus, as I did this afternoon, as Megh could not make it due to traffic jam?”
    “I can’t as I’m allergic to cold”
    “Have you ever exposed your body to cold weather? If no, how did you find out about the cold allergy!”
    “My wife said”
    “Is she a diagnostician?”
    “No, she is my wife”
    “She is undoubtedly a wonderful woman!”
    “Wah, how could you asses her so accurately, SP?”
    “That is my another achievement. Shall we revert to the point of discussion?”
    “What is there to discuss further? Your achievements are not one or two”

  • The way of Winter.

    “Some animals hibernate over the winter, going into a very deep sleep. Hibernating animals usually retreat to a den, a burrow, or a hollow log for protection and shelter. During “true hibernation,” the animal’s body temperature drops, and its rate of breathing slows down. These hibernating animals are very difficult to awaken.”
    “( web copy)
    That is exactly what I’m doing now, after coming to New Jersey. My sister from Hyderabad, called me from Baltimore for a week.for chewing together our Hyderabad days. It is two months now, I’m here. She cooks or her daughters in laws during week ends, I eat and sleep.
    At times, the inner guy asks:
    “Why don’t you do some useful work?”
    “Eating and sleeping – not useful work?”
    “Useful for others, I meant”
    “Such as ?”
    “Get milk, vegetables”
    “Is there a Chettiar shop next door, here? For a can of milk or a kg of tomato, one has to drive 3 miles. I can’t drive, I can’t walk in this winter”
    “You can read, write”
    “What else have I been doing all these years? Work in a factory or farm?”
    “Practice singing”
    “Madras Music Festival is awaiting to hear me!”
    “Pinnacle of pessimism!”
    “Practical thinking”
    “You can help your grand children in their homework”
    “Ha,ha. Joke of the year! Man, the syllabus and methods are Greek and Latin to me that I don’t understand ABCD of what the kids learn”
    “You are not useful to the world. Get ready for your final journey. One seat will become vacant”
    “Joke of the century ! What is their to get ready? Is it flying back to India, pack my baggage and weigh and wait for the cab?. My Master simply lifts me up, when the time comes”
    “Absolutely unhelpful attitude. You will never reach Him”
    “Reach Him? Reach Him where? He is in me and I’m in Him. I’m He and He is me. You talk as if He is in another world or planet!”
    ————-
    “Mano Buddhi Ahankara Chitta Ninaham
    Nacha Shrotra Jihve Na Cha Ghrana Netre
    Nacha Vyoma Bhoomir Na Tejo Na Vayu
    Chidananda Rupa Shivoham Shivoham
    Na Cha Prana Samjno Na Vai Pancha Vayu
    Na Va Saptadhatur Na Va Pancha Koshah
    Na Vak Pani Padau Na Chopastha Payu
    Chidananda Rupa Shivoham Shivoham
    Na Me Dvesha Ragau Na Me Lobha Mohau
    Mado Naiva Me Naiva Matsarya Bhavah
    Na Dharmo Na Chartho Na Kamo Na Mokshah
    Chidananda Rupa Shivoham Shivoham
    Na Punyam Na Papam Na Saukhyam Na Dukham
    Na Mantro Na Teertham Na Vedo Na Yajnaha
    Aham Bhojanam Naiva Bhojyam Na Bhokta
    Chidananda Rupa Shivoham Shivoham
    Na Me Mrityu Shanka Na Me Jati Bhedah
    Pita Naiva Me Naiva Mata Na Janma
    Na Bandhur Na Mitram Gurur Naiva Shishyah
    Chidananda Rupa Shivoham Shivoham
    Aham Nirvikalpo Nirakara Roopaha
    Vibhur Vyapya Sarvatra Sarvendriyanam
    Sada Me Samatvam Na Muktir Na Bandhah
    Chidananda Rupa Shivoham Shivoham”
    ————–
    “You want me to explain the meaning?”
    “No, I’m feeling sleepy. You too go to sleep”
    “That is the way of winter. Hibernate”

  • Remembering an old mistake

     
    You know who my latest Facebook friend is? A great grand daughter of my aunt or great grand niece of my father! Her cousin, a teenager is already in my Family group. The fifth generation descendants of my grand mother are here with me, to comment on what I post !
    How proud I am ! How prudent should I be in selecting my words and pictures!
    When my great grand niece, soon after joining my group yesterday, made a comment addressing me as ‘mama’, I remembered her grandfather , my Ambikuttan Athan, who used to call my father, ‘Mama’, who was indeed the genuine mama or maternal uncle fit for that appellation. The uncle and nephew, were more like friends.
    Athan happened to stay in our Olavakkode house for a short period, when I was a kid. I vividly remember his coaxing, cajoling, begging and pleading and then mildly threatening me to consume curd or butter milk mixed rice, as I had an aversion for that, then.
    Seated close to me, he used to pat on my back and request,
    “Muthanna! ( that was how he used to address me, as I was the eldest living son for my parents and he alone had that let name for me ), if you don’t conclude your meal eating rice mixed with butter milk, you won’t grow big; you won’t have good digestion. Your stomach will get upset and with that, we all will get upset”
    Once, twice, thrice he used to speak in such soft language and when my adamancy remain undiluted, he used to take out his weapon:
    “I will be forced to feed you castor oil or kudukkai kazhayam( a home made Ayurvedic preparation from yellow Myrobalan)”
    The moment I heard the names of those two liquids I hated most, I used to devour the food on my leaf and look around to see whether some more was available!
    One day, during my college days, I remembered Athan and with Appa’s permission went to meet him in his house in Puducode. I was shocked to see him a totally changed man. He had lost his eye sight, which drained his self confidence, though outwardly, he pretended to be as strong as he was before. He compelled me to stay overnight . I hadn’t carried an extra pair of clothes and therefore, wanted to return the same evening. “No way. Stay” he ordered and I obeyed.
    Early morning next day, when I returned after bath, he pulled out from his cupboard a new dothy and asked me to wear it. I didn’t accept the offer. I can’t say now why I did so. I just cannot say and I’m terribly ashamed of my conduct. Whether it was Appa’s general instruction not to accept anything from others or was it my false prestige as a college student, which stood in my way ? Whatever it was, there was no justification for my rejecting that friendly offer from a close relative, whom I knew from my childhood and who cared for me. You don’t know how young minds work!
    He coaxed, cajoled, begged, pleaded me to accept that white sheet of cloth, what we call double veshti, but I didn’t yield to his affectionate appeals.
    I returned home, wearing my own clothes and didn’t have the courage to tell Appa about Athan’s offer and my refusal.
    Once back home, I looked back and imagined how badly I wounded the feelings of a loving old man.
    When I thought for a moment that there was a possibility of his attributing my behavior to the economic disparity of the two families, I wept in silence.
    One day, a message came asking Appa to rush to Puthucode.
    Athan was ill and he was refusing to take his medicines.
    “Have your medicines, Ambikutta,” Appa asked him. Like an obedient child, he opened his mouth into which my father poured a few drops of the prescribed medicine.
    Ambikuttan Athan, who coxed, cajoled, begged, pleaded me to eat, when I was a child
    And did all those again, purely out of unalloyed affection much later for a different purpose, was no more, leaving no chance for me to apologize for my inhuman action.
    I have spent later, several hours, repenting over that event. Even today, when his grand daughter addressed me, ‘mama’, in her comments, I hanged my head in shame, reminiscing, my father’s nephew’s affectionate appeal and my rejection of his extended hands of love and compassion,
    Would I have yielded, had he threatened me with a dose of castor oil or Kadukkai kazhAyam? I doubt. I was no more a kid ; I was a teenager, a proud college student.
    Hell with my growth and student status!
    One more starred item irrevocably added to my ‘List of Regrets’ in life.

  • Ammalu Is always right

    Ammalu, you were really good looking and that was why I married you”
    “You were not at all good looking and still I married you. Now the position is no better’; still I continue to live with you”
    ———————————–
    “Ammalu, everyone in this world is praising me. Aren’t you proud of me ?”
    “Im indeed. if they actually do that”
    “Then, why are you not praising me?”
    “I have to do cooking and house keeping. If you take over my duties for a day, that day, from morning to evening, I will do nothing but praising you”
    ————————
    “It is my earnest suggestion to you Ammalu, as your
    earnest well wisher that you should snap your association with my former female colleagues and friends and live ever happily”
    “Earnestly, I don’t believe , it will be of any help to you. I have all your past history recoded, as stone inscriptions and there is no space to add an alphabet more”
    ——————–
    “A lion and a mouse can’t live under the same roof. I’m the lion and you are the mouse”
    “But, we have been living all these years. Now, what happened suddenly?”
    “You are wagging your tails too much”
    “Yes, I do. And that is why I’m worried why you want to live separately, when you have lost strength even to wag your tail”
    —————–
    “Ammalu, your mom tells every one, ‘SP is not a bad guy, but the way he looks, the way he think, the way he talks are all bad’. What does she think of herself?”
    “Why don’t you ask that question to her? You spend an hour with her complaining about me, every evening”
    “It is true that I meet her in evenings but, I don’t spend the whole hour complaining about you”
    “Approximately, how much time ?”
    “About half”
    “The rest, doing what?”
    “Looking at her sari, wondering how much she would have paid for that, looking at her–”
    “Please stop. My mother’s assessment about you was absolutely correct. Your looks and thoughts are equally bad”
    “OK. But why complain about my talk? Shall I question her?”
    “No, I know that your talks too are not good”
    “Then why did your mom certify that I’m not a bad guy?’
    “As I tell her so”
    “Why you say so?”
    “as you are my husband. My husband can never be a bad guy”
    —————
    “Did you ever achieve more than 10 per cent marks in the fifth standard, the highest you studied, when your mom pulled you back from the school, Ammalu?”
    “Had I known that she would marry me to a high standard scholar, who would enquire about the percentage of marks, after fifty years of married life, I would have certainly attempted for a better score”
    ———————–
    “Ammalu, would you have been happier, had you married someone else?”
    “Can’t say unless I marry and live with him. But I’m certain of one thing. I would not have enjoyed life as much as I do now”
    “Because of my virtues, velocity of action and thinking and scholarship?”
    “Lack of those”
    —————–
    “Ammalu, this is between us. Of late, I’m sad to observe a veil of shadow over the smiles of my friends, Ammini, Paru, Parukutty, and almost every one. Worried that nothing is wrong in their family life”
    “This is not between us alone. It is between all of us. The skin and muscles lose their flexibility when one ages and there is nothing to worry about it”
    —————————-
    “I’m writing a four page article for a popular magazine and I want your help. The topic is, ‘What keeps a man and woman together under a same roof? Money, children, social obligation and what else ?’
    I want your help on that, ‘what else’”
    “Mutual trust, Mutual compassion, Mutual understanding, mutual give and take attitude, mutual open talk- nothing else”
    “Nothing else? Foolish woman! Nothing else, not even money, children? Then, why do I need four pages ?”
    “You don’t need. You need only one line”
    ————————————-
    Wonder how our relationship lasted so long, defying the Theory of Compatibility, Ammalu.
    Sorry, you would have never heard of any theories
    or theorems on Physics or Chemistry”
    “Physics and Chemistry theories on human compatibility? No, I’m not aware of any.
    Have you heard about the Theory of non-compatibility. Our marriage survives only as per that theory”
    “What is that?’
    “The husband, wife relationship is based only one basic principal – that is, one should be male and the other, female”
     
     
    ————————————————————————————
    “When I met you for the first time Ammalu, you were a nail- biting, needle-smiling, nickers-wearing, naughty girl, hiding behind the door. Now, out of fear, I’m hiding behind the door, when you enter the house”
    “For the sake of rhyme, you made me a ‘nickers- wearing’ girl. One more rhyming word, one more singing, one more boastful blab,you will see a BadrakAli and not me, before you”
    “Too many ‘one mores’. Why can’t I have friendship with one more lady, Ammalu?”
    “If you want you have one more woman as your wife, but no friendship business”
    “OMG! Two BadrakAlies under one roof!”
    Cartoon courtesy: RamKi
     
    image

  • Ammalu is always right

    “Congrats, Old man, for becoming thatha again. You are no more a child or an young man. Grand pa for six, grand uncle for many more, you are the patriarch of a big family. Behave fitting to your status. your world is expanding and we all expect a more matured, seasoned behavior from you”
    “You have a point, Ammalu. Give me time till evening. I will buy a walk stick and easy chair. In the meantime you press my angavastram and call Ammini, Paru, Parukutty and others classmates and former colleagues for the group photo. The photographer with a moving camera can be here by after RahukAlam”
    “They are not our family. Why you want them for the group photo?”
    “Didn’t you say just now,’your world is expanding’?
    How’ll it expand without my friends?”
    “You are a gone case, SP. You are not fit to age. You are not fit to be a grandpa”
    “But, I have already”
    “That is because of me”
    ————————————————–
    “Ammalu, I love you not because your are a cine star but you serve me good food, in time, though you scold me at times”
    “You love me- I’m interested only in that part. The rest is your usual junk stuff”
    —————————————————–
    AMmalu, why don’t you sing a song to put me to sleep”
    “Which song, ‘Baja Govindam, Baja Govindam?”
    “You fancy female, fit to live only before the fourteenth century, that song is sung before someone goes into permanent sleep!
    Sing a dreamy song on the silver winged angels, floating dreamily on silver clouds in a moonlit night!”
    “I can, but there is a problem. All angels are females and instead of slipping into sleep, you will spring from your bed towards the telephone!”
    ———————————–
    What would have happened, had you not married me, Ammalu?”
    “Another woman would have become your wife and on the second day, dumped your desktop or laptop into the well at the back yard”
    “Why on the second day and not on the first?”
    “She had to assess whether you had any spring of romance within you or only fingers to move on the keyboard. Next day, it would have been obvious to her that you didn’t need a woman but only a computer or a book rack , as a life partner partner”
    “You didn’t throw my computer and book rack into the well?”
    “I didn’t. It took two days for me to study you. By that time, I realized that your bluff stories, oral and in writing, captivated me. Romance or no romance, I decided to stay”
    —————————————————–
    “SP, Is this the age for you to whistle from behind, when a couple enjoy their evening walk ahead?”
    “That woman is my wife! I wanted to kick her but my arthritic leg refused to cooperate. Whistling was the least I could do by way of protest”
    “Kicking I did and pushed her towards her husband.
    And she is Ammini. I’m your wife”
    “What a confusion my cataract created!
    Sorry, Ammalu. But, tell me, with your arthritic leg how did you manage to kick and push her to the front?”
    “When another woman walks along with her husband, whether a classmate or a colleague or whoever it be, a wife’s fist, hand, keg, tongue, all parts forget their own problems and act as one to punish the culprits”
    “Did you Say ‘ culprits’ ? You would not have. It would gave been a slip of your tongue”
    “I did say ‘culprits’. The first one got her punishment and the second one will receive his due, when we are back home”
    —————————————–
    “When is your next visit to your mom’s house, Ammalu?”
    “Whenever you are at home for about 2/3 hrs. so that I don’t need to lock the house”
    “In between, I might get an urgent call and leave. Better have a duplicate key always with you”
    “No need. I have remote sensor in my cell phone, to keep a watch on your movement”
    ——————-
    “Ammalu, indict me if you like, for ignoring my precious mother in law for gifting a more precious gift to me, some fifty years ago. Suggest a suitable return gift to match the quality of her gift and quantity of my guilt in delaying my thanks giving.
    Remember the ‘Thanks Giving’ day is approaching”
    “Buy a black board and a box full chalk pieces. Let her spend the rest of her life drawing your picture and reminiscing on your activities and exploring reasons as to where she went wrong in choosing you as a partner for her precious daughter”
    ————————————–

  • Ammalu is always right

    “Ammalu, Ammini says that you are lucky to have a husband like me,
    handsome ..”
    “Talksome, boastsome, …”
    “Pity your English, madam. What connection has talksome and boastsome has with my talking and boasting, if that is what you want to say?”
    “The same connection handsome has with your hands. But you could understand what I meant. Though grammatically, I was not correct, the purpose was served. Language is for that”
    “You are teaching me the intricacies of language?”
    “No, Sir, the basics”
    ——————————————————————————-
    “Every one says that I’m great, Ammalu”
    ” I too say ”
    “That is all ? You should have said that I’m very great ”
    “How does it matter? If you were not great, I made you great. If you were great I made you very great ”
    “I made, I made’ you say. Am I iddli or dosa for you to make ?”
    “A mother gives birth to the baby and makes him an adult. A wife makes him a man”
    “And the husband?”
    “Enjoys life ”
    “That is all ? Husband has no other role ?”
    “Wanders in illusion wondering whether he is great, greater or the greatest ”
    ——————————————
    What would have happened, had you not married me, Ammalu?”
    “Another woman would gave become your wife and on the second day, dumped your desktop or laptop into the well at the back yard”
    “Why on the second day and not on the first?”
    “She had to assess whether you had any spring of romance within you or only fingers to move on the keyboard. Next day, it would have been obvious to her that you didn’t need a woman but only a computer or a book rack , as a life partner partner”
    “You didn’t throw my computer and book rack into the well?”
    “I didn’t. It took two days for me to study you. By that time, I realized that your bluff stories, oral and in writing, captivated me. Romance or no romance, I decided to stay”
    —–/-//———————————
    “How do you like this night lamp, I bought for you, SP? It is cute”
    “It is not cute. It us cruel. It is scaring with its shallow eyes and sharp mustache. Remove it please. I don’t want a night watch man inside my bedroom. Your next attempt to invade my privacy could be a CCTV camera!”
    “That is expensive. You don’t know how intelligent my pussy cat is. The moment you lift the phone or press a mobile number, it will send a ring sound in my bedroom”
    image
    ——————-
    ” SP, Is this the age for you to whistle from behind, when a couple enjoy their evening walk ahead?”
    “That woman is my wife! I wanted to kick her but my arthritic leg refused to cooperate. Whistling was the least I could do by way of protest”
    “Kicking I did and pushed her towards her husband.
    And she is Ammini. I’m your wife”
    “What a confusion my cataract created!
    Sorry, Ammalu. But, tell me, with your arthritic leg how did you manage to kick and push her to the front?”
    “When another woman walks along with her husband, whether a classmate or a colleague or whoever it be, a wife’s fist, hand, keg, tongue, all parts forget their own problems and act as one to punish the culprits”
    “Did you Say ‘ culprits’ ? You would not have. It would gave been a slip of your tongue”
    “I did say ‘culprits’. The first one got her punishment and the second one will receive his due, when we are back home”
    ————————————
    “Ammalu, a love letter, I had sent to my college mate has come back today, duly acknowledged, approved. I’m elated”
    “I too. She was so gracious to add a note, ‘sorry for the delay’”
    “Better late than never. Isn’t it ? But, how did you know what she wrote?”
    “I had asked the postman to show me all your returned -love letters, before delivering to you”
    —————————————
    “When is your next visit to your mom’s house, Ammalu?”
    “Whenever you are at home for about 2/3 hrs. so that I don’t need to lock the house”
    “In between, I might get an urgent call and leave. Better have a duplicate key always with you”
    “No need. I have remote sensor in my cell phone, to keep a watch on your movement”
    ———————————— ——
    “When I met you for the first time Ammalu, you were a nail- biting, needle-smiling, nickers-wearing, naughty girl, hiding behind the door. Now, out of fear, I’m hiding behind the door, when you enter the house”
    “For the sake of rhyme, you made me a ‘nickers- wearing’ girl. One more rhyming word, one more singing, one more boastful blab,you will see a BadrakAli and not me, before you”
    “Too many ‘one mores’. Why can’t I have friendship with one more lady, Ammalu?”
    “If you want you have one more woman as your wife, but no friendship business”
    “OMG! Two BadrakAlies under one roof!”
    Cartoon courtesy: RamKi
     
    image
    —————————————–
    Ammalu, why don’t you sing a song to put me to sleep”
    “Which song, ‘Baja Govindam, Baja Govindam?”
    “You fancy female, fit to live only before the fourteenth century, that song is sung before someone goes into permanent sleep!
    Sing a dreamy song on the silver winged angels, floating dreamily on silver clouds in a moonlit night!”
    “I can, but there is a problem. All angels are females and instead of slipping into sleep, you will spring from your bed towards the telephone!”

  • Remembering an old vegetable vendor

    There was a vegetable supplier for Appa’s restaurant. Her name was Meenachi from Pollachi. She used to dumb big baskets – full of vegetables every alternate day, without bothering to bargain the price or even collect the cash. Whenever my father pays money she used to accept it gladly.
    What was more important for that dark skinned, white haired and white sari clad women with no blouse to cover her chest was, Appa’s special Guntur tobacco, which was spicy. ‘Sami pokalae koncham thalai suthum’, mildly intoxicating is Sami( my father)’s tobacco’ she used to say.
    imageI remembered her, when I saw this appliance on the kitchen table of my niece in New Jersey. Meenachi used to pound tobacco leaves in a similar appliance, but of brass metal, fully extending her legs, seated on the floor and singing some folk songs.
    She volunteered to do any work any time, whole heartedly. We had several such characters around Appa; all good men and women, doing business but not business minded. They were like our extended family.
    One Pappad maker, we called him pappadakAran Chitambaran, whose dying wish was to see Appa, before dying. My father,
    immediately went to his hut and spoke a few words of consolation. Chidambaram closed eyes fully satisfied.