Twenties Girl

I finished reading "Twenties Girl" by Sophie Kinsella last week. As is usual with Kinsella books, I wolfed it down giggling and laughing throughout. As I finished the book, I was reminded of another "twenties girl" in my life.

This time, during my India trip, I managed to find this picture of my paatti ensconced within the folds of an ancient album. My grandma showed this to me when I was about 7 during a summer visit. I can still remember the shine in her eyes, face agog with excitement wreathed in a wide grin as she recalled this triumphant moment from her youth. Her eldest brother had returned from South Africa with a novel "thing" that could take still pictures. She was one of the first people in Sivaramapuram to be photographed much to the envy of her neighbors. Most people had not seen or even heard of a camera in the 1920s!

So there she is, my grandma, when she was around 18 standing in the thaazhvaaram of her family home. Old age has gotten to her these days and she can't move about much. But she still happens to be one of the most colorful, feisty and cheerful people I know. When I showed her this picture, her face softened as she went back in time and I think for a few minutes, she became 18 years old again -- shy, expectant and ready to take on life. If you ask her, she'll say she never feels older than 18. Ever. I believe her.

The month of goodbyes

February has been the month of endings for me. Faced with the economic slump, my company let go of some employees. My teammate, someone I’ve worked with for the past two years, bid farewell to work last Thursday. It was sad for me to watch him go.

February was also the month when my periappa bade farewell to this world forever. He passed away on Feb 12 suddenly due to cardiac arrest. For many years, our families had been estranged due to various reasons. I had my own resentments toward him. But that’s not how I want to remember him. Life’s all about editing out the bad parts and retaining the good ones. 20 years from now, I know I’d like to remember my periappa fondly.

He was a man of many excellent qualities. Proud and determined, he along with his brothers, rose up in life through sheer hardwork and dedication. My father used to say that he had vowed to either get into the IAS or do nothing else at all. Of course, he got through and was extremely successful at work. He made as many friends as he did enemies and he did both with passion.

He liked his arguments. Equally at ease with politics, religion or current trends, he would argue with Mani periappa for hours on end. It was very entertaining for the younger members of the family to watch them fight passionately about something totally unrelated to their daily lives. Personally, I used to wonder at his oratory, eloquence and stamina in holding onto his position. My love for English literature was definitely fueled by his oratory and command of the language! 

During one of his visits to Trichy, he asked me if I wanted to go eat “good rava dosai and godhumai halwa”.  I thought we would go to some nearby restaurant. At exactly around 4.30 in the evening, we both set out to the “best place to eat evening tiffin”. We ended up at the junction of Big Street and Gandhi Market at a small hole in the wall called “Rama’s Cafe”. And sure enough, the home-style rava dosai and halwa served there were the best in the entire town! He loved his food. During family get-togethers, as we all sat down to eat in the traditional banana-leaf, he would pick the “right” banana leaf that would let him have his fill of payasam. Too narrow and you can’t pour too much liquid in it. Too flimsy and the food will fall out of the leaf. He would have the rich payasam toward the end of the meal (instead of in between courses as is the tradition) so nothing else would taint its taste! :)

He was a towering figure in the family in many respects. He raised my father, educated him and helped him make it in life. He helped countless family numbers financially, morally and in other ways. Ultimately, the qualities that made him formidable at work -- pride and stubbornness-- also contributed to his estrangement from the family. He came to my wedding and the last few words he spoke to me were words of blessing. 

My grandmother used to say that my brother was the exact replica of how Pasupathy periappa used to look in his childhood. B definitely has periappa in his make-up somewhere. He sleeps like periappa -- one leg crossed over the other knee. He loves sweets as much as periappa did and he has the same streak of stubborn-ness in him. Maybe that’s why periappa loved him so much. 

I am glad I didn’t see periappa’s body in the end. I find it very hard to imagine a man of his vitality lying very cold and still. Farewell, periappa, rest in peace.

Thandalai

The cult of guardian deities or "kaaval deivams" in Tamilnadu is something I've been trying to fathom for a while. It is not that I don't believe in it but I cannot relate to it. Our guardian deity is in a village called Thandalai, about 5 kms from Tiruvarur. It houses a very small temple to Shashtha or Ayyappan, Badrakali and the more famous "Eetty Manickam" (The Manickam with a Javelin). Anyone in the surrounding regions of that village will be able to point you to the temple of "Eetty Manickam". All vehicles, especially buses and lorries, passing via that temple will stop, drop a coin toward "Eetty Manickam" and then proceed on their way. Legend has it that if they do not do that, they will meet with a fatal calamity. For many years, the temple drew a sustenance based on the charity of these passers-by and still does even though it now has other sources of funds as well.

Until the 1990s, our family had no idea of this temple. Somewhere along the way, many generations past, we'd lost the memory of this place. In the early 1990s, my eldest Uncle was looking to marry off his eldest daughter. Try as they might, they couldn't find a satisfactory alliance for my cousin. One day my Uncle had a very vivid dream of a temple in an isolated village. He dreamt about a Badrakali in that temple and was told that because we had neglected this deity, the marriage of his daughter was being delayed. He could accurately describe the temple, its surroundings and the way to the Badrakali sanctum. But no one in our family knew what this temple was. Finally, my grandmother had some vague recollection of a place near Tiruvarur that was supposed to be our guardian deity. So my uncle hunted around that area for a while and figured out that there was a little-known village called Thandalai.

The entire family consisting of my Uncle, his three younger brothers including my father, their spouses and children made the visit to this place. We worshipped there and when we went to the Badrakali sanctum, my Uncle swore that it was exactly as it was in his dream. "Eetty Manickam" came as a surprise to me. The image was of an English-looking guy in khaki trousers and shirt, with a gun and a white horse. The statue was huge and stood on the outside of the temple. Here's where the drivers threw their coins. "Eetty Manickam" was supposed to guard the village at night and many villagers swore to hearing horse hoof sounds in that area. Anyways, after propitiating the gods there and promising to go back every year, we returned. Soon enough, my cousin got married and we attributed it to the temple.

To go back to the beginning of this post, I have trouble relating to these "kaaval deivams" because of their punishing nature. I've never believed in fear-induced worship and many of the Ayyanars, Karuppannasaamis,Ellai Kaalis, Badrakalis seem to be very punishing. But I suppose their very nature makes people feel protected if they offer the right worship.

S & I just started watching "Marma Desam - Vidadhu Karuppu" and that prompted me to write this post..:-)

South Indian families and politics....

For a long time, Hum Aapke Hain Koun represented a cultural watershed for me in a personal sense. It came out while I was in 10th grade and my friends were crazy about it! Apart from Madhuri Dixit's beauty, the haunting songs and the romance that it offered, the movie fascinated me because it glorified the extended family concept -- doting aunts, loving uncles, friendly cousins, one big happy family. Till I saw the movie, I'd not even realized that an extended family could really get along together! :)



My paternal family is quite big. When I was a kid and my grandma was alive, we used to have those annual familial gatherings. All my grandma's sons, daughters, in-laws, grandchildren used to get together under one roof. I used to look forward to those meets as it gave me a sense of family. But as I grew up, I realized that these gatherings were turning out to be less and less about family and more about personal egos. Politics was rife in the air and there was always tension. There were always a few members who couldn't stop gloating, taunting, insulting etc...And the rest of the family usually put up with this due to a myriad reasons, chief among them being my grandmother. I think that in a lot of ways, she was the glue that held the family together and when she passed away, everything disintegrated.



Almost all South Indian families I know are fraught with politics. This might sound like a sweeping generalization but this has been my experience. The relatives barely want to see each other and there's no love lost. Like I said, I'd taken this to be the norm until I saw HAHK. It seemed utopia to me! Later on, I found that most of my North Indian friends really did have loving extended families. 



What is it about South Indian families that make them so rife with politics? Why do we not get along? Is it our upbringing? Is it our competitive culture? Is it because we're too formal and take offense at the slightest instance? I am not sure but I guess the child in me will always keep yearning for the utopian HAHK family.. :)

Indianapolis trip

Spent an awesome three days in Indianapolis. Reached there on Friday night and returned on Monday night (technically Tuesday morning but who cares?). Spending time with family feels great. My Uncle and Aunt had come from India to visit their grandson (my little nephew!). Anyways, chatted with them for a long while about what's hot in Srirangam, what's in and what's out, who's in town ( u know, just local 'vambu' and yadda yadda...) and of course, events in the temple, family stories etc...
My cousin's house is in a great locality. It is full of greenery and simply too picturesque. I loved the place. Went for long walks with my family. Had good old South Indian food. Went to a nearby park. Saw the fireworks on July 4th. It was a so-so display..not too good, not too bad.
Went shopping at a mall. Bought new sandals ( actually went to buy something else but us girls no can resist da temptation...:))

Saw Hum Tum...okay sort of a movie. Expected more but turned out to be a disappointment. I have seen Rani Mukherjee before and have found her okay in her movies..but in this one, she REALLY made me wish she had a better voice..U know the noise that initially comes when ice cubes are put in a grater??!! Well, that's the way she sounded to me..(freaked me out after a while).

The little guy (name's Vishnu, by the way) just stole my heart. He is 7 months old and he took to me very nicely! It feels great to be a part of a little one's life, to be there when he grows up, to be someone to whom he can turn to for care, affection and support. I really miss him.