Happy Pongal, Makar Sankranthi, Lohri to everyone in India. It is the festive season now.
What I remember of Pongal as a kid is waking up early in the cold winter morning and walking towards the drawing room to catch a few more winks on the sofa half asleep waiting for Amma to call us to come to the kitchen. We would wait for the milk to boil and rise and shout ‘Pongalo Pongal- Pongalo Pongal’ and prostrate before the Pongal Panai (pot) .It was a time to feast on chakkarai (sweet) pongal and venn (salted) Pongal with some other delicacies that Amma would prepare .
Fast forward a few years.
I am the one who is buying the turmeric leaves, applying turmeric and kumkum to the pongal panai (pot), tying the leaves securely to the pot, cleaning the gas oven and kitchen counter top in the morning ,adding the required ingredients in the panai and simultaneously keep calling my kid an hubby reminding them that its time to wake up. Now my son ambles half asleep towards the sofa and then to the kitchen when its time for the milk to boil and rise up.
I am more than happy and satisfied by the time I prepare both the varieties of the pongal dish and the “neivedhiyam ” is offered to the Sun God! So the lunch and breakfast of the day is done minus any more delicacies that my Amma would prepare.
Pongal literally means “boiling over” as the milk is allowed to boil over, signifying abundance.
I look forward to this morning every year
Perhaps I manage to follow certain customs in ways convenient to me during the current times with some short cuts . Our beautiful traditions have evolved radically but the essence still remains the same and they keep reminding us about the beautiful culture that we belong to.
Childhood is the time when we are most active , bubbling with energy , stress free and with all the time in the world playing and bonding with friends . As we grow into an adult the scenario slowly changes and it is a mixture of fun and stress of a different order be it about academics, one’s looks , peer pressure, relationships, career, marriage , learning new skills , adjustments , childbirth, raising kids, taking care of elderly and the list is really long .
Especially women in India have to make lots of adjustments and for us the twists and turns of life and age sometimes makes us ponder over the uncertainity at many stages.
In the journey of life at different stages of life, there does come a time when one is not sure about the future, a fear somewhere resides in some corner of the mind, yet life goes on. One tries to do what one thinks is best at that point of time. And when ones wishes are fulfilled its a nice, beautiful feeling.
How many women can resonate well with the fact that we tend to put everyone else ‘s needs before our own . Priorities change with time with family commitments and raising kids that time just flies ahead juggling between home front and work front .The fact that when kids are a little older and need us a little less as their circle of friends widen is the time which allows us to pursue our own goals, hobbies & passions which had taken a backseat.
So just stop for a couple of minutes & think, ” what is my oxygen mask” ?
Do things that are highly energetic and reflective. Spend some time in nature and enjoy your surroundings, have a chat with a good friend , watch films, do exercise , yoga , dance , pen down your thoughts, feelings, listen to music and sing along to your favourite song, travel, read, rediscover a hobby or a creative interest , just something you enjoy wherein you are so involved that there is no room for worrying about anything else. Spread your beautiful wings and fly to all the places you wish to be.
Do what you enjoy and fly and soar up in the sky and be perched on the throne like a “Queen” and rule your life and life will open new doors for a better you.
Human mind is strange, its always active like a monkey. Judging others comes easily to us. Its such an inbuilt mechanism of the thinking process that we cannot stop it. However we can limit ourselves to the extent that we don’t express our opinions and judgements openly . We should try to put ourselves in other person’s shoes first to understand them properly.
Last week during my yoga class I tried to do a new asana and somehow hurt my lower back. After coming home I realized that every movement like sitting on a chair, getting up, lying down , turning on bed was so painful . I got irritated by the sound of the calling bell when someone was at the door. I could not bend down to open the drawers in the kitchen to have an access to the food items or remove something from the refrigerator . That is when I actually realized the real pain that my mother would have experienced and how she bore the acute pain for two and half years in her right hip and the doctors just failed to diagnose her ailment properly. Every moment of her two and half years was spent in pain and because of the hip pain her mobility was affected immensely. She lost interest in life too.
My mother bore the pain and would try to lead her life and activities without depending on others as much as it was possible. Last week when I was down with pain ,the words “Walk a mile in my shoes and then you will realize how it is” kept piercing and echoing in my ears and I kept remembering my loving mother who is in no more in this world and I shed silent tears . This was on a physical level.
On a mental level in life we should never judge another person as two individuals will think differently. What governs ones mental makeup is the circumstances one is thrown into. Follow the motto of ” live and let live” and never ever be judgemental.
Bombay is a city of dreams. For me too it was, it is.
Although Politically its called Mumbai now, for me it will always be Bombay- as that was how it was called when I moved to this city to build my dreams.
I spent nearly two decades in this city. I came to this city as a young girl in my early twenties when I got a job. This Metro city has a magnetic effect. Whoever comes here gradually falls in love with the city inspite of it being called fast paced. She takes into her arms every one who comes to her , and gives an experience of warmth, struggle, love, independence, exposure and the various other ingredients that are required to experience life.
Its a city for everyone- for the rich as well as the poor. I have always felt that she has a beat, a rhythm, a pulse to her. She is a city who never sleeps.
She gave me – my first job, my first house, my first love, my bundle of joy , friends, an experience and exposure which taught me so many things in my life. As I started loving the city immensely there came circumstances because of which I had to relocate to another city. I think relocation is not the word- uprooted would be an appropriate word.
My heart was torn. I felt very sad too . Although I moved to another city which is equally very developed but my heart does not belong here.
This was the time I came across the book ” who moved my cheese”? by Dr Spencer Johnson and it helped me to deal with change in life, It taught me how to adapt to change, how to look at life beyond the comfort zone.
Well, after moving to another city, I try to look at the positive side that the city has to offer me. I did learn couple of things here . I just hope change leads to something better and I manage to fall in love to the new place too.
For my blogger friends who understand hindi- this is the song which is very apt for me when I started my life after marriage in Bombay
” do diwaane shahar mein, raat mein yaa dopahar mein
aabodaanaa dhoondhte hai, ek aashiyaanaa dhoondhate hain”
Hope and Uncertainty go hand in hand. This term ” Uncertainty” is definitely a heavy word. In the journey of life at different stages of life, there does come a time when one is not sure about the future, a fear somewhere resides in some corner of thelife goes on. One tries to do what one thinks is best at that point of time. And when ones wishes are fulfilled its a nice, beautiful feeling.
Sometimes it does happen that, what one may think is best for oneself , God does not think that way, as HE has a different plan chalked out and when that happens , its a tough time. Hoping against hope one has to tread the difficult, dark path waiting anxiously to see the light ahead in the tunnel of life.
I am always reminded about the time when we come to a fork point in life. Which path to choose be it career, studies, spouse, house, relationships, relocation to another city/ country , medical issues , etc sometime tear us apart giving stress . One then follows what ones heart/head/or others say with the cloud of uncertainty hanging over the head, leading each day with a SECRET desire that all turns out well with no REGRETS of the decisions taken , and with the LOVE , support of family at HOME, friends, associates, we TREASURE we take each day as it comes.
I strongly believe that “LIFE IS A BOX OF UNCERTAINTY AND HOPE”.
Whenever I have faced UNCERTAINTY in my life . I like to remember these lines that I came across once to give me comfort
The water falls from the hills,
it never thinks it has fallen,
it rises to run as an Unstoppable river.
Life is not about falling.
It is about rising at every fall
How rightfully it is said that childhood memories remain with us for a lifetime .It becomes a part of us and we hold on to the good memories with great fondness.
I have always associated the word journey with a “Train journey” since for me as a kid holidays meant visiting our native place and the journey to the native place down south meant travelling by train for two days.
Today as I am keying in , once again my mind is flooded with the beautiful memories of travelling by the great Indian Railways. I loved to watch the changing landscape as the train chugged from one state to another. The dry arid regions, the lush green forests, the changing terrain, rivers flowing with current,the dry river beds, farms with crops swaying in the breeze , the night sky with millions of twinkling lights from the houses all visible in a single journey of 2 days!!.Isn’t this someway similar to the changes that occur in this “journey of life”?
As a young girl I would love to watch from the window the view after the sun went down and the night set in . As the train would speed ahead , no change in terrain would be visible except for the tiny innumerable lights that dotted the land ( light bulbs from houses) with cool air touching my cheeks. I would wish for the view to continue without a change. But that is not possible. Similarly only the good times cannot continue in life too I guess.
I spent my early growing up years in Allahabad and Delhi. Those were the days when vacations were meant to be enjoyed, play outside with friends instead of attending summer camps. We were actually like donkeys set free without any burden of studies during the entire summer holidays.
I have very fond memories of my summer vacations when we would visit our relatives house and Thatha, Patti & attai’s ( Dada, Dadi & Buaji) home in South India. Travelling by train all the way from Allahabad or Delhi to Trichy involved changing trains at Madras , ( I would not prefer to write Chennai but would instead write Madras as that is what it was called then!) and taking another train for the onward journey to Trichy. It used to take three days to reach our grandparents home.
As kids the “chook chook gadi ” travel excitement would commence the day the tickets were booked. We are three siblings and we would immediately announce as to “I will sleep on the upper berth” . The one who announced first would always want the upper berth . There would also be announcement of ” window seat for me ” !.
The ticket used to be of thick cardboard and small in size , ( like the one that pops out in a coin operated weighing machine in a railway station ). It was also a time to look forward to weighing oneself in the coin operated machine at the station and read the forecast with an actor/ actress pic on one side. That card that would come out of the machine mentioning the weight will be preserved by us!!
A surai ( earthen pot) too would be a part of our luggage . Travel was by normal non ac coach and we never ever felt of cribbing or grumbling about the heat.. Amma would carry idlis with molaga podi smeared on it, lemon rice,tamarind rice, curd rice, vadams ( homemade fryums) and pickles in a stainless steel carrier. The food used to be consumed in the order of their shelf life . From the second day it was food available in the different stations that were bought. Water was refilled in the surai in a station. When we drank water Amma would say” please do not sip the glass”
We never bothered about using a hand sanitizer, dettol soap or mineral water. Life still went on without any illness.We would play a game of cards, ludo, snakes and ladders . The co- passengers too would become our friends and play with us. A bonding happened during the course of the journey.
I loved to watch the changing landscape as the train chugged from one state to another. Somewhere without our realizing it a learning process was happening simultaneously. We were actually visualizing the physical features of the land , be it plains,rocks., rivers, plateaus, valleys,vegetation and like a sponge every detail would be getting lodged in our memory.
Even we learnt about food, snacks, fruits that were special to a particular place when the vendors would hop in to sell their items at different places. It was also a learning about the different outfits worn by different people in India during our journey from north to south or even vice versa.
Getting to learn how to use the Railway timetable book was fun. We would keep asking Amma and Appa as to ” Which is the next station ? We learnt about big stations being called as ” junctions”.We would pass by tunnels,rivers, thick vegetation. , bridges.Throwing coins into the river was another fun activity that we looked forward to. The innumerable trips up and down the ladder would be so thrilling when trying to reach from one level of berth to another.! Amma would say ” Be careful, lest you break your bones at the begining of the journey!!. “
It was a time to bond, learn, spend more time together , play, watch the world outside.The ” Jayanti Janata express” ( Allahabad to south) and ” The Grand Trunk Express” ( Delhi to Madras) have left their imprint in my mind.On nearing Madras , we would sing the song ” Madras nalla Madras” & would keep asking Appa as to how much more time was left for Madras central station to come.
Our relatives would be waiting at the station to receive us and would give home food packed for our onward journey to Trichy. Sometimes it even meant changing station in Madras.We would bid goodbye to the surai in the train itself which had helped us in giving chill water to quench our thirst in the summer heat. From Trichy it would be a bus or bullock cart to the village where my grandparents stayed.
“Tea” sounded this way ” chaaya , chaaya ” & also for some soft drinks it would be “coool drinks , coool drinks ” with a tring tring sound made by the bottle opener on the glass bottles.! There is lot to write if one starts remembering the travel experiences by good old Indian Railways !! A Coolie also was an integral part of our journey as we would always lot of luggage . Having graduated from trunks & holdalls to suitcases & now with further graduation to strolleys , a coolie’s assistance in carrying luggage is not availed by everyone anymore. He would walk fast with luggage on his head and someone was required to match his steps to trail behind him.:-)).Amma would say “Keep an eye on him as he will walk fast” . Searching for our name in the chart stuck near the door of the coach was another thing to look forward to! During teenage years apart from our names one would also try to look at the chart to check if someone of our age group or a youngster was a copassenger!!
We never felt the journey tiring or boring. These are memories that are etched in my mind and I cherish them.
At the same time it sometimes makes me wonder if the current generation is missing something like this? Because for them vacations and travel both have taken a new different meaning!!
Travelling as a family was so much fun.Not that travelling now is not fun with my family, kid . But there is a difference- I am a parent now with a kid. The role reversal is definitely very different I believe.In this journey of life I do intend to undertake more fun filled journeys with my loved ones .I can definitely be a kid at heart if not by age to relive those moments of childhood once again!!
It’s almost twenty one years since Appa left us. He left home never to return back when a tragic accident snatched him away from us .When a hale and hearty , lovable , one’s hero , a very active person suddenly leaves us it’s very very difficult to digest and come to terms with the sudden loss .
Two decades ago I was not even aware that something called ” father’s day” is celebrated world wide.
There are so many things I fondly remember about my first hero in life. He was a self made man. Coming from a very humble family background he worked very hard to rise to a very high position in the corporate world. There was a fire in his belly to excel in whatever he chose to do. He was very meticulous , dynamic and a very honest man.
My parents have given me a wonderful childhood and I have umpteen number of beautiful memories of my growing up years. Although he was strict and a disciplinarian, he was also very friendly , loving and caring. He wanted his daughters to shine in academics and be an all rounder in other activities too. He introduced us to badminton, carrom board, tamil film songs, devotional light music, good movies, books, gardening, table tennis, access to library, photography, chanting shlokas, travel, comfortable journeys by road, rail and air. He taught us to ride a bicycle and the two wheeler. Whenever we took part in extra curricular activities he helped us in drafting with the poem recitations, speeches and debates.
There was never a dull moment with Appa around.He was a good singer, was good in drawing, appreciated good prose, poetry, music and dance. He would also enact some bharatnatyam songs with his hand gestures and facial expressions and would try to explain the meaning behind the beautiful lyrics. I still remember his all time favourite bharatnatyam dance song ” madhavi pon mayilal” sung by T.M. Soundararajan. He introduced us to the world of tamil music through T.M. Soundararajan and poet Kannadasan’ s songs which were rich in meaning.
He was an all rounder for us who guided us at every step in life.
He had travelled around the globe and believed in ” be like a Roman in Rome”. Coming from an orthodox south Indian family his views changed because of being posted to different places within the country
Whenever we visited a new city he would take interest in showing us around the city. The two things he was particular about were rising up early in the morning and scoring good marks. We as kids would often grumble about it . He believed in the power of education and wanted his girls to scale heights. I could see the pride in his eyes for his daughters whenever we won a competition, secured admission in a good college, came out with flying colours in exams.
We had lots of Jasmine flowers in our garden. He would personally pluck the flowers with so much care for us. Amma would string it for us to be pinned on the hair.He always helped my Amma in kitchen and in few household chores. Once in a while he would cook and let Amma relax. We are a family of three daughters and since we always saw our Appa lending a helping hand to Amma, the very concept of boys or males not helping in household activities was alien to me and my sisters. We have been fortunate enough to have a beautiful upbringing and we were always given the freedom to express our views.
Appa was religious and had immense faith in the Almighty. After he met with the tragic accident we were very very angry with God. Circumstances they say change a person. Me and my two sisters started questioning so many things. After facing the turmoil and tough times along with Amma, we in a way have become less emotional when we see people cribbing for trivial issues. We started questioning some of the superstitious rituals that are followed. Yes, maybe people think that we are outspoken and not as submissive as girls are expected to be.
Appa passed away within six months of my marriage. It was a big blow. Newly wed girls normally celebrate all the festivals with so much enthusiasm within the first year of marriage . Somewhere the looking forward to celebrate festivals lost charm within me. He could never play with his grandkids too.
It took time to come out of it. I still have a letter that I wrote to him in heaven , a year or two after he left us informing him about how we are dealing with life without him. I realized that at least I could enjoy and experience the relation of a father till my early twenties. There are so many in this world who might not be as fortunate as I was . I reconciled myself taking it as God’s plan.
Memories are finally what is left behind . Thankyou God for blessing me with such lovely parents. I firmly believe that my Appa is blessing and guiding me in each and every step in life. I hold him close within my heart and he will remain there to walk with me throughout my life until we meet again.
Amma, with Mother’s day approaching I am remembering you all the more . This year will be my first Mother’s day after you have reached your final resting place to join Appa in your heavenly abode . Thankyou Amma for giving us a wonderful childhood, memories, moments to cherish, education, teaching Sanskrit shlokas , introducing us to the world of stories and storybooks and values. Children learn watching their parents and we surely as kids absorbed many things like a sponge during the growing up years.
You gave us the freedom to express our thoughts even if we differed in our thoughts on some issues and had diametrically opposite views at times . This opportunity to air our views and to agree to disagree philosophy is something I simply love and respect about you.
I say this specially because I have seen some people of my generation not being given this opportunity when it comes to talking to their parents . They call this respect and love . I call this respect and love accompanied by fear ( my personal opinion).
For every child their mother is the best cook in the world. You always made sure that you prepared dishes that your children relish even if it meant making an extra effort since with age/ health issues your likes/dislikes/ preferences for something could have changed.
You were so fond of cooking and knitting sweaters for your children and grandchildren. I never managed to learn these two forms of art with the same passion as yours ( and I don’t regret it too ). You agreed that nature and degree of interests could vary from person to person and also from one generation to another.
Cooking is something which I learnt after marriage and since you were always a phone call away I could always trouble you anytime and ask for recipes and tips before the “you tube “and “google maharaj” made their entry. The practical tips always have been so handy which the books /videos / google maharaj would seldom specify.
You would pack my things for me every time when it was time to leave for hostel before the college reopened. You had the ability to make friends easily across all age groups and with your humour you normally won over most people. I wish I had inherited that quality from you.
I still remember the second Sunday of May 2003 . It was also a Mother’s day and we three sisters were travelling from Baroda to Madras along with you and your two toddler grandkids by train. We realized we had been talking so much (maybe at a volume audible to others) and having fun when some passengers who were travelling in the same coach a few berths away told us that they liked our lively and cheerful banter and struck a conversation with Amma. They seemed as if they were eager to know about all of us.
You always went out of the way to help us . When your grandkids were infants , toddlers and your kids could not go to buy train tickets or because of the summer rush it was impossible to get tickets you always volunteered to buy us tickets by going personally to the railway station by taking the trouble to be there at the booking counter in the morning hours ( around 16/17 years ago – which seldom your generation ladies would offer to do).
You were employed with the Accountant General office in Madras and Delhi for 11 years- a central govt job, but you gave it up after the birth of your twins and I have never ever heard you grumbling about it even at times when you were annoyed with us. Appa left home never to return when a tragic accident snatched him away from us. You remained a pillar of strength for us .
I quote here the words of my dear Uncle ( Amma’s younger brother) to his nieces ( to myself and my sisters)
“From Valady ( a place in Tamil Nadu) to Vadodara her life has been a life which inspires confidence. The life values she has imparted on you all, after the untimely snatching away of your beloved father, without buckling and complaining tells a lot about her confidence and maturity and fighting spirit. Resonating with her name ‘Visalakshi’ she adopted a broader vision and courage to stand against some meaningless customs and practices”.
When we were living in the same city post my marriage , I would call you up on my way to your place to keep tea ready for me. I could take this liberty with you. According to me this is what I call a closest relation called ” Amma” .
Amma , we miss you many times and fondly remember so many things about you . We ( kids, grandkids) remember your dialogues, proverbs that you often used, reactions to our activities . It is lonesome without you since you have gone away but we seem to hear you whisper to us to cheer up and carry on . Each time I see your picture you seem to be telling us with a smile “Don’t cry, I am in God’s hands and we will meet again someday.
Amma, I hope and wish that I too prove to be an adorable mom to my kid, the same way as you are to me.
Today as I am keying in, I want to write so many things but I would restrict myself now and summarize with a beautiful poem by Pat O’ Reily
I borrow the words from Pat O’Reilly
“ Wonderful Mother”
God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine.
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.
I am sharing the link here for one my posts.
I watched a movie recently on AIDS awareness. The plot revolves around a few people who are waiting for the results of the blood test of the dreaded disease. The reports of the blood test will come only in the evening. The emotions portrayed by the characters is overwhelming. Initially they are in a state of denial when someone asks them if they are waiting for the report of the ELISA test. Time seems to be heavily weighing on them with the clock seeming to appear to tick at a snails pace. During the waiting period they try to enter into a conversation with each other . They reveal to each other how circumstances put them in situations which make them suspect ” could I have contracted the deadly virus??” . Evening time approaches and as they await their turn to collect the paper that will reveal the status , there is an overwhelming suspense . The overwhelming suspense has been depicted beautifully both for the viewer as well as in the characters .
The movie made me ponder over the various developments for quite some while. A very different kind of movie. I am talking about a yet to be released tamil movie “Sila Samayangalil” that was screened at a literary festival recently in India.