Sister pranks

My most merry and evergreen days are my childhood days and those days are incomplete or I should say are meaningless without my sister. Having expressed my love,  gratitude and the respect I have for my elder one in the previous blog it has long been in my cards to speak about the pranks she’s played on me and how innocently I’ve underwent them. With my disclaimer I’m getting into the content.

Being the eldest in the family  (the eldest among our cousins too) Subha always felt she was in charge of taking care of me, to nourish me with values and mentor me. She always portrayed herself as the most responsible and made all in the family believe the same way; not now but from my kinder garden days.

The naughtiest little girl was always on her mark to play pranks on me. She loved to see me struggle caught up in the menace and then would magnanimously act as though she was my savior who helped me out of trouble. Lot of incidents spring up when I think of childhood days, I’m sharing a couple of interesting incidents for now.

I was in my 1st standard when we had purchased a New Sony record player. I usually fear handling the new items that get purchased for the apprehension that it might get damaged and did not want to get into needless trouble. Unless dad educates me on the mechanism I never tend to touch them. But my sister was an engineer those days itself. The moment an electronic or any new item is purchased she would have sleepless nights if she had not thoroughly learnt the mechanism. She would give me a stern look if I get near to try my hand. She would act as though I was too tiny to handle such goodies. My fear for my sister more than my parents prevented me from exploring those goodies. Oops side tracked

One day my mom had played a sloga cassette and left out to a nearby temple. I was a little inquisitive and badly wanted to operate the player. My sister was quick enough to read my mind and encouraged me to operate it and cunningly told me that since mom was not there we could explore and get to know more. She patted me and said she would take care if anything went wrong. Believing her I tried my hand. She started off well asking to press the play button and then stop button, rewind, fast forward etc and I was overjoyed. Then she asked me to press the pause button. I pressed it and the song just stopped. I had thought that the song was supposed to stop only if I had pressed the stop button. I was completely unaware of the pause functionality. I tried every possible knack on the tape recorder but the song would not resume singing nor did the button bounce back to its original form. I started to panic when my sister knowing everything was giggling and started blaming me for having damaged the player. She said “That is why I told small children should never come near such electronic items, see now everything is gone, Mom is gonna wack you for your misbehavior” I was in total shock with tears rolling down my cheeks and my lower lips  protruding out (Subha had always loved to see the way I cried..she would say I looked cute ) begging her to help me out. She then wiped my tears and said that she would narrate it to mom in a better way and asked me never to open my mouth. I innocently believed her again and maintained silence until mom arrived as per her instructions. Both of us were sitting in the veranda waiting for mom’s arrival. The moment she saw mom nearing our house she sprung up and ran to her and said that I had damaged the player by handling it incorrectly and that the player stopped singing.

I was speechless, mom threw a miserable look on me and my sister was enjoying the show. She acted as though she was not present when I was operating the player. Mom simply went near the player and pressed the pause button again. The song resumed and the button was back to its original form. I was so relieved and stared at my sissy for having made me a fool. Then she casually revealed that she was aware of it and that it was her technique to make me understand the functionality of the player so that I never forgot it for my lifetime.

In the name of love and care taking she would stuff me with food and I would panic for breath unable to swallow the big mouth she feeds me. She would unassumingly enjoy me struggling hard. I have a peculiar habit of never having rice for dinner at any cost. I rather preferred to starve than have rice for dinner. My mom would literally beg me but I would be so stubborn that finally mom would give up and ask me have at least milk. I would drink it and goto sleep. My sister would then cunningly wait until I’ve slept and plan her next course of action. She very well knows that I hate to get disturbed when asleep and I would try my level best not to lose my temper if she tries to irritate me. She would feed me the remaining rice when I’m fast asleep and in the morning would nag me that If I had not eaten, the food would have been a waste and none other than me could have taken such a big quantity. I would feel so embarrassed and will put up a fight with mom. Mom would just laugh and leave the place since her mission has been accomplished :-).

Winding this off for now.

Living away from Home for the first time

Hostel life...–this has been a very important and integral part of my life, memories to be cherished for my lifetime. It gives a nostalgic feel when I think of hostel, friends and the merry making. Awesome four years which has taught me how to balance relationships in life. I still remember the first day of hostel when dad, mom and I landed with the big baggage, bucket and pillows (At any cost I required at least 2 pillows, but later found that I’ve been sleeping on the bare floor with my pillow snatched away from me). After all the admission process was over and greeting smiles from my fellow students who were new to the environment too, I stepped into the hostel after all the advises from mom and experiences about hostel life from my elder sister who was my super senior in the same college (although both our experiences didn’t match a bit), with mixed thoughts to achieve more and at the same time enjoy well, the fantasies I picked up from movies.

Fighting my tears, I bid good bye to mom and dad and reluctantly walked towards my block. Room no: 75 was the room allocated to me. Two pretty girls got introduced as my roommates. We chit chatted for a while, our conversation lingered around the cut-off marks, department and the town where we dwelt from. After carefully arranging the suitcases in the shelf, I slid out of my room to have a quick look of the happenings around. It was when I got introduced to two more girls who were little fun loving and bubbly, our frequencies matched well and we had little fun gossiping about the lab uniform of our college guys which resembled that of a PTC conductor. We then hurried for lunch after the announcement from warden especially for the new ones. It was supposed to be a welcome address but I didn’t feel it welcoming though rather I felt it was like a yell or cry of a bull dog. Later this became my warden’s nick name. We carried our plates hurrying for lunch; I was so scared of ragging and seniors, although my sister was my super senior she has previously warned me that I was not supposed to expect any pampering from her at college.

I’ve had many friends in school, but staying day and night with friends at hostel was totally a different and fabulous experience. That night the conversation with my roommates was a bit relaxed and moved over to hobbies and most instantaneously I was asked to sing once they learnt that I sing. They enjoyed my singing and the news spread like a wild fire and I enjoyed stardom at hostel in a couple of days, being a sister of an intelligent senior was another feather to my cap. Our hostel had very strict rules. We were supposed to be inside the hostel before 6p.m. in the evening, we were not supposed to sleep in any rooms other than the ones allocated to us, we were not allowed to use radios, transistors, walkmans etc. Entertainment strictly prohibited. We were allowed to sit in the verandah near the lawn after dinner until 8p.m after which we were supposed to go to our respective blocks with the respective wardens locking up the block doors and getting ready for attendance.

These rules were a nightmare to be in the beginning. It was only later I realized that I haven’t followed even a single rule quoted above. I had always struggled to catch hold of a bathroom to take bath; I had to hurriedly take bath since my heart would beat fast once the next person starts knocking the door asking me to come out soon. It was the first time in life I was taking up responsibilities for myself, same with almost all of my friends. I had always wanted my place to be neat and tidy and the first day evening after college when I opened my room I was quite annoyed since my bed sheet was not folded, my bathroom slippers each in different directions, my comb with hair in it and my dresses in the bucket not dried. It was when I understood that all these years I had been expecting my place to be neat but I haven’t contributed anything towards it. I started taking up these tiny responsibilities and till today enjoy doing them myself.

Spending money  was quite a big challenge to me. Dad gave me Rs.100 as packet money every week plus the travel expenses. I carefully saved the money to go out for a movie or lunch with friends. We spent most of the money in our college canteen for tea and baji and during weekends at our favorite hotel Parvathi. We saved every single penny and shared whatever we had with each other. It was when I learnt the Joy of sharing and giving. Birthday celebrations are unforgettable ever green memories. Cake cutting at 12 p.m., were most of the cake goes  applying on each one’s face and throwing at each other, smashing tomatoes and every possible nasty thing on each other , ragging on the birthday baby and dancing and yelling until the warden comes and thrashes us to pieces for our misbehavior. We’ve even organized treasure hunt were the birthday baby keeps running with clues for more than an hour just to find a rustic axe blade as gift.

Mmmm then rains have played a major role in my life making a few of us the iconic personalities of hostel. When there is heavy downpour irrespective of our semester exams our “rain gang” (that’s how we address our group who get wet in the rain) we get completely drenched in rain jumping and dancing in the verandah and singing or I should say yelling to the core even after many rounds of warning from our warden over the mike ordering us to get into our rooms. We were gutful to do this since we sincerely believed our warden would never come all the way from her room to our block to catch us red handed. The moment the rain subsides and we see her walking towards our block we would rush to our rooms, pick the clothes and run into the bathroom. She would come and scold my friend and roommate poor girl who would bear all the scolding for the pranks played by me, but still give a smile when I come back once warden leaves. We would try to hide ourselves each time we leave to mess hall for at least a week until she forgets the incident.

So many incidents pop up the moment I think of hostel. I’ve had bitter memories too, misunderstandings, tears, best friends moving away from me, few trying to make use of the innocent ones with respect to money and many more to quote. But these incidents have indeed taught me to face the outer world with maturity. But I would like to sincerely thank all my friends who have played an integral part in tolerating this rude and rustic girl and transforming me into what I am today. Thanks dearies for making the difference especially to Subbu, Sweety, Dhivya, Kasthuri, Sathya, Thilaga, Bama and Saras

Dedicated to YOU on your B'day

 She has played the role of many in my life, charismatic, multi-faceted personality who has pampered me, antagonized me, ruled me and set an example with high standards. I’ve toiled, burnt the midnight oil and slogged to the best of my abilities just to touch the tip of the iceberg which She would have built with ease, not only in education, but almost in every field be it painting (pencil sketch, oil painting, water color, fabric paint etc), embroidery, singing, rangoli, cooking, stitching (the new feather to her cap) She would prove her expertise effortlessly and leave behind her foot print. Although each person is unique with specific talents, my ego was never ready to quit and always wanted to demonstrate that I was similar to her in all respects despite the fact it was not. I could altleast lay a hand on few of those mentioned above, but one aspect that kept me awe struck and simultaneously jealous was her grasping capabilities. I’ve always been beaming with pride of her extraordinary skills to every individual, friends and colleagues, but yearned that I dint possess them. 

She has pacified me when in trouble. She has never let anyone bully me (since she felt she had the sole proprietorship to bully me:-)). Jokes apart I still remember the days in school when she had fought for me when some of her friends were trying to pull my legs and when I timidly hid behind her – a place of rescue. I felt she was my pillar of strength.

One day I had forgotten to get signature from my parents in one of the answer sheets, my class teacher being very strict, I had no other choice left with but to bring her to explain the situation. She being the most favorite of all teachers handled the situation with ease, giving vivid excuses pleasing my teacher, which my teacher would never have listened if the same excuses were uttered by me. I felt she was my comfort zone.

My handwriting I should say was one of the worst in class. Thanks to the advent of Windows and Microsoft one notebook that these days most of our thoughts are typed rather than written. But at every stage in life handwriting plays a major role. I haven’t been insulted, offended or snubbed even by my teacher for my bad writing. But she was instantaneous to pass remarks on my writing grabbing every opportunity. I was offended and annoyed badly. I challenged her and took enormous efforts trying to improve my handwriting practicing with as many handwriting books as can and I slowly improved from worst to worse and finally from better to neat. I was overwhelmed when my teacher appreciated me for my neat work. I was thankful to her for if she had not intervened I would never have improved. I felt she was my good critic.

She has always surprised me with her cooking capabilities. She would serve me with a variety of dishes in no minutes. From childhood whenever I felt like having something different she would be first person I approach even before my mom or granny. She would instantaneously pay heed to my desires and try her hand on something new. Although I had been her testable object whenever she tried a new dish one would never deny the fact that the taste would be exemplary. I was always pleased and enjoyed to be her testable object. In fact I’ve tasted many varieties of sweet in child hood which she would name in her own innovative style (Angel, Pazha appam to name a few…). I felt she was the pacifier of my appetite.

 I had always felt I had sacrificed a lot for her sake in my child hood days since from trivial issues like dress and eatables to sensitive issues like the attraction and importance she grabbed from friends and relatives, she was stubborn never to give up for anyone’s sake. I had always enjoyed giving up for her sake since I earned more love and sympathy from my parents. As years passed by she treated me as a mature person and was ready to compromise on petty issues with me which she would never have given up previously. She stopped playing pranks on me and treated me as a good friend. There were times when she had sobbed to me detailing the incidents in her college and home patiently waiting for my words of comfort. She had always guided me in the right path and selflessly prayed that I should lead a more luxurious life than her. She was magnanimous enough to portray me as a patient, mature and too good a girl to her family circle and friends (I’m not sure if I’m worthy of her praises though). I would be rejoiced hearing those words of praise. I felt she was my guardian angel.

She, in a nutshell is conjuring, innovative, nimble wit, Angelic soul – none can devour, Timid yet Invincible Attitude, A smile that never wilts with cute dimples on both cheeks. Hope the mystery of she is finally revealed. SHE is none other than my loving sister Subha. I wish her long life filled with fun, happiness, contentment and all good things on earth on her wonderful birthday.

A day in the electric train

It was a Monday morning; the city was bustling with energy, children running to catch their school buses, working men and women rushing to reach their destinations on time. I was the on the go too to the railway station to catch up the train. Monday mornings, although energy levels are high my mind would be lingering over the weekend, reluctant to leave home. Like a little kid who wears a long face at the bus stop with the school bag in his shoulders trying to give naive reasons to bunk school, I would force myself towards the railway station, awaiting for the surprises the day had in store for me. Electric trains are a middle class boon. I would have a seasonal pass so that I could travel as many times within the time frame in the local trains. I would usually get down at Guindy from where I would have to take another mode of transport either share-auto or bus to reach my destination.

The ladies compartment of the train would be relatively less crowded when it reaches my station and would become almost full there. I would locate a window seat and sit at ease enjoying the morning breeze and the scorching heat at times. When I start gazing through I would be amazed and simultaneously felt bad for the women who would be panting for breath having hastily caught the train for if they had missed the train they would be late to office which would result in penalty, loss of pay or loss of half day leave. I would be amazed by their time management skills, few of them would comb their hair, few apply powder and do a little touch up, few would buy vegetables sold by vendors inside the train (although this is not permissible by law, we still find many people selling vegetables, eatables, groceries and few gypsies selling fashion accessories inside the train), few pray with their sloga books in hand, few have breakfast in the train, few teachers correct the answer sheets, few lecturers would prepare for their lecture, few over the phone instructing people at home of the electricity bill or telephone bill that was due to be paid and few lost in thought. Due to lack of time these women would try to make best use of their travel time.

On the other hand there were few others having fun in the train playing anthakshari and large chunks gossiping either about their bosses or their in laws or about the television serial the previous night or about the disrespectful behavior of their neighbors, few school students whispering to each other and few IT guys displaying their tags and headset in their ears and few completely occupied with some story book. Every day of my train journey was full of interesting experiences with one or more of these characters.

One day it happened so that my co-occupants were few middle aged women nearing their forties who were clerical job doers in the treasury office. They were a gang of five and posed as though they were the SMART FIVE at their office. There was one central figure who supposedly seemed to be the gang leader , was trying to reveal her thoughts over every topic of discussion ranging from the hurricane that hit the United states ,the storm and rains at Mumbai to why and when electric trains were discovered. The topic became all the more hilarious when she started narrating the quarrel she had with her mother-in-law at home and the disgustful behavior of her in law. She then said that her mother-in-law had slipped in the bathroom for having quarreled with her and that GOD had punished her for her misbehavior. She was able to relate it with karma. Her description about her in law was so realistic that I started to visualize her figure in my mind. I felt she would have made a good writer sans the humor interwoven. Then the topic sidetracked over to a fellow colleague at office who had made an irrevocable mistake in the document he had typed and she boasted of her eagle's eye to spot the mistakes made by him. She blasted of the guy’s insincerity in his work and concluded that the youth of these days were not so obedient and sincere compared to their days. Then on noticing a girl sitting cross-legged opposite to her she started advocating that girls were not supposed to sit cross legged since one it was a sign of disrespect to the elders and two it would increase body’s heat and affect her uterus. Now I felt she could have made a decent doctor too.

Finally I was nearing my destination and I had to take enormous efforts to reach the door, like a fish that swims against turbulent waves I had to fight my way through swarm of people who were never courteous enough to move away and give way for the people getting down.  I received the final piece of advice from my fellow passenger. She said I should never feel bad to move forward pushing people behind and that if I were timid I would have a tough time. She was able to correlate this act of mine to real life and she was delighted on being able to make such a brilliant comparison. She was beaming with pride as her group was awe struck by her philosophy. I couldn’t refrain from laughing despite my jam-packed situation. I finally managed to reach the entrance by the time the train had halted. It was then I was pushed down by all the ladies who were getting down too and I had to pull my handbag and shawl which was caught up in the menace. I was almost drenched in sweat when I got down from the train and started walking outside the station awaiting for the surprises the day had in store for me

True happiness lies in contentment

After shopping at a retail outlet, my niece and I came out with a baggage of groceries. I had always enjoyed the 10 minute walk from there to my house with broad roads and shady trees on both sides of the road, complementing us with a breeze as they nodded welcoming our arrival. But I suddenly felt someone nudge me; it was my little niece with pleading looks requesting me to hire an auto. I was astonished and sternly chided her saying “Walking is good for health”. She was not convinced but was adamant on her stand. I started advising her like a prophet (my merciless efforts to thrust too many values into the minds of a tiny tot) saying that we should not go behind luxury although an auto is affordable and that she should learn to accustom herself at all situations., be happy for all the blessings GOD has showered upon her, for wonderful parents, grandparents and so on and on..I suddenly stopped to find her give me a puzzled look, I could interpret her mind which said “Why so much of talk for a small auto ride?” This gesture made me reminisce my past. Memories way behind 15-20 years flashed upon that inward eye. I was completely lost in thoughts forgetting my present.

Outing with dad almost every weekend is one of the most memorable and cherishable moments in my lifetime. My dad being a government employee was frequently transferred to different places within short spans of time. The tenure in a place was extendable provided you’re not evasive and unconcealed, ever ready to fill the gunny bags of the superior authorities with …. (hope you guess what I mean here). My dad being an unconventional and principled person, (although these can never be accepted as traits of a government employee ) was being transferred almost every two years or sometimes even every year, irrespective of the fact that he had his family abode at Tuticorin with my mom working as a professor in college. (Oops off the track!!)

  We (my sister and me) would yearn for the weekend, since my dad would reach home by Friday night. Our gala time would start from Saturday noon. We had to take oil bath every Saturday, a ritual we were forced to follow:-). We would have lunch together mom, dad, Subha and me with my granny serving the delicious meal for us. Lot of gossips, fun and frolic, happenings of the entire week, scolding from mom for the petty mistakes committed either by me or Subha all unraveled during the meal. My dad would silently listen to all of them with a beaming smile. Followed by the meal would be a short nap after which we would start getting ready for our venture into the small town Tuticorin.

This venture was usually preceded with tiffin at “Hotel Visaka” near our house. My choice would unassumingly be kesari, (for people who know me well would know kesari is my all time favorite sweet) and my sister would get into research ordering new dishes every week in spite of the fact that there would not be more than 4-5 varieties including MY KESARI. We would quickly finish it off so that we reach the theater early for the movie. In our town there were only a couple of theaters that had A/C boxes(which means the entire theater would not be air-conditioned and only a room with around 20 seats would have the air-conditioned facility which would be almost full or reserved for rich people-talkies kind). So we would ensure we reach early so that we could catch up on the ladies queue to get the tickets quickly. The greatest talent we would boast of until the next movie:-). Movies are events that occur every month or sometimes every quarter of the year. Alternative to movies we would visit temples and beach, the most exotic place since shopping and movies were not affordable frequently.

Saturday night after dinner would be the most awaited moment. The moments that would take us to the heights of amusement, fear, thoughtfulness, rolling on the floor and laughing, psychic screaming or what so ever, guess what!! My dad would narrate a story for us, a new one every week with so much of mimics and expression that would take us to another world (Similar to the one in the movie Anjali when Raghuvaran narrates a story to his kids). I really wonder this unique talent in dad; he was a master in conquering our attention and keeping our minds intact. We would be spell bound by his narration. Exotic memories and I still remember few of those stories. His stories continue until we doze away, sometimes stories end sometimes to be continued the next week. Devoid of mobile phones, ipods, lpads and all modern gadgets the bond was tight. We had lot of time for each other. Less affordability propagated more happiness.

On Sunday, post breakfast we would all be assembled before the television to watch Ramayana or Mahabharatha in Doordarshan with my dad explaining our queries on almost every character during commercial ads. He would have almost every religious fact in his finger tip that any neighbor or relative of ours would refer dad like an encyclopedia for all religious beliefs. Devoid of cable network we had no other choice but to watch the programmes telecasted in Doordarshan. The most important is the Sunday movie for which we would fervently pray that an old black and white movie should never get telecasted.

 Dad loves Philosophy and all his speech would always be tainted with philosophic ideas. Out of 10 sentences he utters one of them would bear a philosophic quote from Socrates. He was so fond of Socrates that he was unable to refrain from quoting him despite mom’s frequent sarcasm about dad’s love for Socrates. Dad in addition to his stories would try to impart moral values every now and then, either in the form of philosophic notes or quoting incidents from his own life. He would advocate his prophecy “True happiness lies in contentment”. We would give him an interrogating look, the looks similar to the one my niece threw upon me. Oops I was shaken by a scream of complaint from my niece to my mom (we had reached near our home by then) that I had kept silent during our walk towards home there by punishing her for being adamant. My mother threw a stern look on me for being rude to the little one.She innocently came back to me with loads of apologies for her disobedient act and was ready to listen to my prophecies .Ripe opportunity for me now; I simply said “True happiness lies in contentment” with a wink. She nodded as though she had understood what I meant. She stopped me before I could move on and said “I understood all what you meant but one doubt, what is contentment chithi(meaning aunt)?”
I burst into laughter and kissed her for the childish innocence :-)

But on thinking deeply, with all these luxuries in place, we’ve always had a vacuum inside. In spite of having everything in excess, entertainment, shopping, travel, food we seem to be dissatisfied and the wish-list gets longer than the tail of hanuman. On digging into the reason behind this vacuum Eureka I discovered (personality traits of my dad to quote Socrates) that it is this excess that had been the root cause for all miseries. On removing excess I was contented, simple, but strong and thought provoking quote by dad. I’m taking conscious efforts to adhere to this as I wish to have true happiness. Thanks to dad for imparting such good values now and forever.

Sashtiapdhapoorthy—The success story

    It’s a scintillating moment for children to watch their parents getting married and it becomes all the more special for parents when children organize this for them. One such awesome function was the Sashtiapdhapoorthy of my parents (meaning on completion of 60 years of the man (head of the family), a marriage celebration for the couple, which serves as a union between the wife and husband rejoicing the success of their togetherness these many years. The highlight being their children celebrating this function, wishing their parents long life and happiness in the years to come).Blessed were we (my sister Subha and me) to rejoice those blissful moments.

               It was during the month of January Subha started talks about the celebration. My mom was the first one to raise a strong objection towards this. She had ample reasons to justify her stand on why a BIG NO to this function, but none of them seemed reasonable to Subha and me. My dad an unconventional, calm person wasn’t ready to justify his stand, instead ignored these talks completely and kept himself aloof just watching the drama like a silent spectator. This angered Subha all the more and both of us tried every possible loop hole to convince them. But the bond between my parents were strong, they were stubborn. This was a big challenge for us to tackle, the greatest obstacle to cross over.

                    We somehow managed to get their acceptance, after nodding to all the terms and conditions dictated by mom. To mention a few:- No grandeur, no lavish spending of money, function to be conducted in the most humblest way inviting only very few most important people and so on and so forth….Subha had a twinkle in her eyes. To mention about Subha, she has gut instincts at times and she never questions them if they were strong enough to pursue further with her thoughts. She goes by them always which finally end up with euphoric moments or some treasure to be valued for the lifetime. This was one such occasion which rose as a result of her instincts. She was determined to take up and make this occasion a grand success in spite of many odds.

              We started off with our preparations by purchasing sarees, jewels and gifts primarily as they occupied the first few items in our shopping cart. At this juncture it is indispensable to mention about my sister’s in-laws without whom this function would never have happened. Her in-laws irrespective of their health ailments took all the pains to cater to our wishes. Right from scratch till the end, they contributed in every possible way, thus making the function a grand success. I express my sincere gratitude heartfelt THANKS to both of them via this blog. Then came the invitation part when my MOM carefully started preparing the list of very few most important people..:-). But the list grew big, bigger and finally ended up with 100 most important people who would attend the function at any cost. This included relatives, neighbors and close friends. Our home was not spacious enough to accommodate 100 people and there was no appropriate dining area to accommodate the crowd. Since our house was at the ground floor with no lift facilities, we thought it would be a laborious task for all the guests to climb three floors even if we were to arrange for a shamiana in the open space for lunch. We had already booked a party hall, but had to later cancel it since it didn’t fit into Mom’s TERMS and CONDITIONS. But finally we had to opt for the party hall with no other feasibility.

   

               Finally the big day arrived, with the function starting at 4 a.m. in the morning with around 18 purohits chanting the manthras. We were all set to invite the guests since we were organizing the function. Slowly after dawn people started arriving and the hall was almost full during the muhurtham. The sky was falling with the sounds of the nathaswaram and kettimelam (traditional musical instruments in tamil marriages) when my dad tied the mangalyam (holy rope) around my mother’s neck and all showered their blessings on them. Subha and I were at the heights of glee or I would say plethora of joy as though we’ve conquered the entire world. The entire crowd congratulated us on our achievement. It was like a rewind of memories for Mom and Dad and this  event was even closer to mom’s heart since all her best friends and colleagues who were present on her wedding 33 years back were present there all of them enjoying their friend’s happiness as their own. Truly inspiring group of friends mom has earned, the greatest asset for her lifetime.  

        My parents were at their heights of pride and glory with a sense of gratitude towards us for having organized the function and conducting it successfully in spite of their constant barging into each and every decision of ours. We are grateful for having such wonderful parents who care for us and I strongly believe it is the duty of all children to fulfill the wishes of their parents and keep them happy.

                   

                                                                                        

A note of apology to my dear friend

My first blog ever, I really do not how this interest caught hold of me, but this serves as a best forum to let out all my untold emotions, those which I’ve hidden due to ego, shyness, jealousy, anger what so ever. Let me get into the content :)

I really wonder what made me think about you at this time of the night. It’s 12.40 a.m., a serene night with mysterious silence which is occasionally interrupted by the drizzling sound of the rain, darkness all around. All at home are fast asleep and I’m before my laptop thinking about you and writing down my thoughts.

Subbu, my dearest friend a tall, curly haired girl with sparkling eyes, calm and collective person, not quickly angered by nature. She is currently working in a software company as a project lead. I’m feeling lonely with none around me and simultaneously at peace trying to scribble a few lines about you. I’m absolutely clueless about what made me think about you, but as I write this tears are rolling down my cheeks .You’ve been such an angel in my life that at this moment if I had anyone next to me I would spurt out immediately , without any iota of hesitation that YOU ARE ONE OF THE BEST FRIENDS ever who made me feel heavenly, showered unconditional love and with whom I’ve shared ecstatic, precious, stupid, good, bad, silly, foolish moments which I would treasure the whole of my life time. I’m thankful for all those moments and for the ones yet to come in future.

Subbu, I sincerely wanted to apologize to you for an incident that happened about 6 years ago. It was during the pre-final semester of our college days. I was a little skeptical about the way you handled relationships. I thought the way you prioritized relationships was not fair and I ensured that I was given the top most priority almost every time(I would have seldom give up). If you remember I would have spoken very less to you on this regard but my gestures spoke a million. At many situations I would nastily jump into conclusions that you were not bothered or considered about me. I would end up perceiving that I’ve been the most stupid person showering unconditional love on you. A kind of self sympathy though.

 It was the time when my sister had delivered a baby (my cute, charming niece Mruthula). All our friends were planning to visit our home to see the new born. You also had plans to visit Mala’s house after visiting my house, which I did not want to happen. We finally executed our plan by successfully bunking our classes the entire day and started off our journey from Kovilpatti to my place Tuticorin. An enjoyable 1.5 hour journey where we had great fun yelling in the bus and causing public nuisance of all kind, with many people in the bus giving us a cold stare, since we were all girls , that being a remote town, we could sense the intolerance towards such naughty and noisy behavior of girls. But we continued with no botheration about our co-passengers and finally they got accustomed too, each of them continuing with their own jobs, some sleeping and some gossiping.

Finally we reached our destination and I was all set to take all my friends to my house. We reached home with the warm welcome of my sweet granny and sister. We enjoyed with the baby and all of us relished the lunch. It was around 4’o clock in the evening when you approached me trying to tell something. I quickly sensed your thoughts and smartly pulled Velvizhi (one of our friends) next to me and started off with another conversation. Unfortunately you did notice my gesture dear and you were disappointed and shocked. I saw the slight wrinkles near your eyes trying to pop out your disappointment, but you neatly covered up with a warm smile and moved away, as though you haven’t noticed my silly gesture. I truly have a nagging pain in my heart for having hurt you and I could just imagine the trauma you would have underwent coz of such behavior, not only for this single incident but few more incidents when I’ve deliberately hurt you. I repent for all of those mistakes and I’ve never got forgiveness from myself. At this juncture, although we are miles apart I feel I miss you and I deeply apologise for all my mistakes. I’ve been carrying this these entire years dear, but today having expressed my thoughts to its fullest magnitude I feel my heart is as light as feather and you know what I feel, that I’m already forgiven :)