‘Ammalu, this house belongs to me. The furniture, vessels, the cow in the shed, her calf, all belong to me’
‘Only the cow belong to you and the calf belongs to the cow, just as our children belong to me’
‘Wah! Our children belong to you! You created them by waving your peacock feather bunch! I’m nowhere in the picture!’
‘You too belongs to me. As you belong to me, everything in this house including the calf, belong to me. But the cow belongs to you’
‘Just now you said that the calf belongs to the cow!’
‘That was a minute ago. Hearing your absurd argument, the cow wants me to take charge of her calf too.
‘Who knows tomorrow, her dad too won’t become ambitious like SP and claim her?’ Asks the cow. Cows have foresight, you see’
‘Are you fooling me, old lady? Ha, ha! Cows have foresight, cows talk ! Yes, they talk stupid things’
‘Quite possible. The cow belongs to you’
‘Stop this nonsense Ammalu. In this house nothing belongs to me. Ok? Everything belongs to you. You take everything and enjoy. I’m leaving’
‘Cow?’
‘Vow! Vow! Vow!. Bye. I’m going . Close the gate’
Blog
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Ammalu is always right
‘Let us talk business Ammalu. One day or other, we should do it’
‘What is there to talk about business? You could not successfully run even a kadukkaipodi shop for which there is a lot of demand’
‘Ammalu, by business I meant about our relationship’
‘What is there to talk about our relationship? You get your breakfast, lunch, evening tea, dinner and in between some snacks and drinks, even without your asking for’
‘It is not about that. Marriage life is not eating alone’
‘Then what else, at our age ?’
‘I feel shy to talk about it, Ammalu’
‘Ok . I will talk business. Your grass mat is spread on the veranda. It is very warm inside. Please go and sleep well.
Sweet dreams!’
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In your club meeting, it seems you boasted,’that every time my husband looks at other women ( and he does it often) he likes me more’. Does your awareness tell you that you are a Rambha or an Urvashi?’
‘You got it all wrong, as usual, SP. It was my mom who told me, that too long, long ago, on the day I was leaving my home with you,
‘Ammalu, every time your husband looks at other women and he will do it often, he should like you more, not because you are a Rambha or an Urvashi, but due to fear of your look when you return home’
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Ammalu, this girl Gomathy is very funny. She says, had I happened to be her husband, on the fifth day after our wedding she would have jumped into the Kalpathy River’
‘That girl at 70 + is funny indeed. Didn’t you ask her why waiting for five days?’
‘Wouldn’t have I? I did ask’
‘What was that 70+ girl’s reply?’
‘Four days, to go around the town to alert every girl in the twenty miles area around, not to become a victim like her, if someone tried to brain wash to agree to marry me’
‘I was then living beyond twenty miles from her’
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Ladies , generally, have a good opinion about me. What you say, Ammalu?’
‘Yes. They have’
‘How do you know?
‘They tell me, whenever they meet me. And we meet quite often’
‘But, you and your old mom don’t think high about me?’
‘This is the reason- we both know your ins and outs . Others know only your ‘outs’, what goes out from your mouth’
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On comforts and comforters
I heard the word ‘comforter’ in connection with beds only after coming to USA. We, in India use bed sheets, bed covers and blankets too during the cold season. I have already two ‘comforters’ including an electrical one which can be connected to a power supply for use in extra chill nights. So, I questioned my son why he bought another comforter. In his usual style of using words sparingly, he said, ‘you will like it, dad’
Yes, I really liked it, on the very first night itself. It was very soft but at the same time sufficiently warm to protect me from cold. The blanket, I used during childhood , was rough, thick and heavy. Then comparatively light weight blankets arrived in shops but thinnest blanket I ever used were from America. But those are not called blankets, but comforters!’
The word comforter has originated from comfort. Many things which give us comfort need not be comfortable to others.
I don’t snore but snoring gives us comforts. Yawning gives us comfort which I do at times, especially while sleeping after a day of hard working. Flatulation or burping the accumulated intestinal gas with or without sound gives comfort to the doer and discomfort to others, like snoring and yawning.
‘Are you comfortable with the new sofa or new job?’ You can ask your friend.
But, you can’t ask, ‘are you comfortable with your new wife/ husband?’
‘Why don’t you come to the first bench?’ I invited a friend , who had come for a meeting, where I was the main speaker.
‘Thank you,’ he replied, ‘ I’m comfortable here’
‘For smoking?’
‘No. I have a habit of releasing excess gas with a heavy sound, when you start talking,’ replied the shameless fellow. -
Govindan and Nachimuthu
Govindan and Nachimuthu were my classmates in the fifth standard in Olavakkode Padathu elementary school. Govindan was hotelier Krishnan Nair’s son and Nachimuthu’s father was a scavenger in the railway station of our town. They were best friends. Govindan was tall and fair skinned and Nachi equally tall but dark complexioned. Nachi used to come to school extremely well dressed and with neatly combed hair, every day. None of others bothered about hair or wear, excluding a few girls. Nachi’s parents, probably, in their anxiety that their son should not feel social inferiority, spent extra money and time to dress him up well.
The school was in the middle of lush green paddy fields and hence the name ‘Padathu’. From the main road, there was a foot path to approach the school, crisscrossed by farmers their animals and at times even snakes . It gave us immense joy to cross the paddy fields especially during the seasons of seed sowing to harvesting when groups of men and women would be working on the fields, to our right and left. Watching life evolving from the stage of seedlings to fully grown plants, carrying heavy loads of yield, ready to be harvested was a unique experience.
During one lunch interval, Govindan made a comment deridingly about his friend’s dress, in a casual manner, which Nachi could not take sportively. He gave his friend a strong punch pushing Govindan flat on the ground.
We all laughed. Govindan got offended.
‘Eda, panni – you, pig,’ yelled Govi, regaining his standing position and thrashed his friend.
‘Eda, madaya, you, fool,’ screamed Nachi and kicked Govi.
Both the boys rolled and rolled on the ground till the bell for reassembling rang. Then, they both stopped fighting and got up, shirking off the mud from their clothes.
Govindan walked ahead a few yards towards the classroom, then returned. He looked at Nachi’s dress sympathetically and noticed some mud still sticking to the shirt. He removed that, by his little hands, looked down and cleared the dust on the nicker too. When he extended his hands to clear some grass blades hanging from Nachi’s head, he said, ‘jnaan nearae akkikkolam-nee nadanno- I will make it alright, you don’t worry’
( Picture from the net )
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Thaipoosam musings
Thaipoosam on Sunday, Jan 24, 2016-said this morning, my brother Vicha from Hyderabad.
My father used to go to Pazhani every year for Thaipoosam festival and he used to carry me too, when I was a child. The Meter gauge train from Olavakkode would be overcrowded with pilgrims coming from North Malabar and I remember being pushed into the compartment through the window openings once or twice.
At Pazhani, we used to stay in Aiyer Satram where father used to meet a number of his old friends. I remember well the kavadi Attam on the streets of the holy town in groups, by many devotees. I was told that some devotees come from distant places, dancing all the way up to the hill. one among them was Ramanatha Iyer of Koottalai village, an ardent devotee of Muruga. I have not seen my father dancing in the group but have heard him singing. He voice was metallic and tunes perfect. One song, I distinctly remember is ‘Patchai mayil vaahanane,Shiva Balasubramanianae Va—‘, which he used to sing extremely well.
There was a bajan book with him, a collection of selected songs on Subramaniaswamy.
Appa used to buy one big tin full of Panchamritham and another tin packed with Viboothi. The problem was to transport those through the jam-packed meter gauge train with small compartments . Once, I remember, he pushed the two tins one by one through the window opening, into the hands of Sankara Aiyer with a big belly at the Pollachi station, where a connection train was to be boarded. Standing on the platform, Sankara Iyer collected the two tins, yelling, ‘oh, oh’ as they were heavy. The third one to be thrown into his hands was myself and he received me with a sigh of relief, ‘oh, kanam illai- what a light weight!’ I remember well the pose of Aiyer projecting his uncovered big, black belly and extended hands with wide spread legs and his apt facial expressions, as if heavy loads of sand or granite stones were to be emptied onto his hands. That picture is vivid, but sorry to say, not the graceful face and pose of the Lord in the sanctum. I could hardly see the Lord and the full throated calls of ‘Muruga, Muruga’ from the devotees and equally loud sounds of ‘Poyya, Poyya from the Pandarams, were disturbing.
Near the sanctum, wild sounds should not overtake our subdued, silent heartbeats, when we are in the presence of God. As a child, I had that feeling which continues even now. That might be the reason, why during Ayyappa Poojas, I quietly leave the premises, when someone shakes his body and trembles and screams, which they say is under the influence of Ayyappa. I can’t imagine God entering a human body for a short while, shake it from top to toe and discarding like a used olapadakkam, country cracker.
Kavadiaattams, the measured steps of the bare chested, Viboothi coated devotees carrying colourful little Kavadies were enjoyable. The music went well along with that. During one Kavadiaattam, one old man missed his steps badly and others made fun of him.
I remember someone telling me that the old man, out of utter humiliation bent down and picked up a handful of mud from the ground. It turned into brown sugar which was distributed as Prasadam to others! I didn’t see that miracle then and haven’t ever afterwards during any of my trips.
Climbing up and down the steps too, I enjoyed. It was a real fun, which I recalled when, a few years ago, I struggled to truck the hills. The night view of the hills was pleasing.
May Lord Subramania bless us all and our families and friends with good health, happiness and peaceful life.
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Ammalu is always right
Y
‘Wonder which fool said that man can have only one wife?’
‘Would like to have more for yourself?’
‘Not at all, Ammalu. But, seeing your struggling alone carrying the load of household duties, is it wrong, as a loving, dutiful husband, if I feel that it would be helpful to you to have two more hands in this house?’
‘Ok, go ahead. I know that you think about my happiness rather than yours. But, SP, let me caution you that maintaining two women is like holding two sugarcane sticks in both the hands. It is like having no hands. You can’t eat, can’t drink even water, can’t sleep ‘
‘Oh, now you are worried about me. I will manage, for your sake, for your happiness Amnalu, with another woman’
‘Very good. What a sacrifice for my sake! Tell me ten minutes in advance of your bringing your ( sorry my ) companion here, so that I can be ready to receive you both at the gate’
‘Promise me that you will be receiving her with open hands, when we enter together, my dear ‘
‘Promising is not that easy’
‘Why Amnalu, when I have your concurrence and she, your blessings?!
‘My fear is, if she too is shaky and shivering like you, I have to hold you both with my both hands to prevent your falling. How will I then be able to receive you with open hands?’
‘Disgracing me, Ammalu? My steps and looks are not sturdy?’
‘Yes, now. But won’t be, in the presence of another woman!’
‘Admitting your statement for the sake of argument, may I know madam, why should she shiver?’
‘She will, when she comes to know that Ammalu is your wife. If she doesn’t, she doesn’t belong to this planet. May be from Mars, may be from the Moon’ -
Ammalu is always right
Am I the head or you or your mom, here, in this family? I want to have an answer, now, right now’
‘You and you alone, for me’
‘What does your queen mother say?’
‘She too says that you are the head and I’m the tail.’
‘Wah, what a great lady she is!’
‘She is. She asked me to keep wagging my tail horizontally’
‘Do it, who cares?’
‘She, my mother.’
‘Why?’
‘She is afraid that you will move your head vertically to my horizontal motion and loose all your hairs. ‘So, restrict your motion,’ said my mom’
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‘Ammalu, what a winter! Biting cold. I have a small temptation’
‘Please, go and sit in your library, SP. wear one more sweater’
‘You have misunderstood me, Ammalu. My temptation is only for a Kumbakonam coffee’
‘That will come there ; in the libraray’
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