Real Gems

It was a lazy afternoon and I was sitting reading a story on the net, when I heard a plonk. It was a mail from my college friend Hari.
I smiled as I remembered those days. 

Hari was not exactly a close friend. He was a nice pleasant looking person and had a nice smile. He could be warm and friendly if he chose to be. The thing is he would choose to be aloof most of the times. Academics was his only priority in life and more often than not, he topped the semester examinations. The distance he kept from his classmates, gave him an aura and for most of our classmates he seemed like God. On certain days when we struggled to understand the complex engineering formulas, we would seek God's help. And if the God was free, ( read, if God had completed all the assignments for the day), he would help us out.

But I must be fair to him. He was very a hard working person and atleast he did try to be helpful. Also I can't really blame the way he was. He had been forced to make himself tough and competitive. 

A particular night in the year 1992 had changed his life for ever. 

That day had been a week before the twelfth standard board exams. At ten pm in the night, a stranger had knocked at the wooden door of their small house on the outskirts of Ahmedabad. He remembered opening the door and talking to the stranger. But after that moment, everything had seemed like a daze. The next thing he remembered was that he was running to the hospital. The stranger had said that his father had been found lying unconscious outside a provision store. His father had been declared "dead on arrival" by the time they had taken him to the hospital. 

The doctors in the hospital said that his father had had a heart attack.

Hari had not known how to react. He did not have time to cry. There were too many things to be done - taking charge of the house, paying off his father's unpaid loans, providing for and completing his as well as his siblings' education. His mom was a house maker and did not really understand much of the world outside. An uncle helped him take charge of the house. After his twelfth, which he passed with distinction, he took an educational loan, joined engineering and ended up being the gold medalist. It was in engineering that Hari and I got to know each other. It was there that he had earned the nickname of “God”.

He did well in his career and soon he started his own company. Out of sheer hardwork he earned the respect of his clients. He always kept in touch with me and called to share the joy of buying a beautiful two storied house in upscale California. He based himself out of the US and came to India on yearly visits. And every time he came to India, he never failed to meet me.

However, every time Hari came down to India for his yearly break, I would feel that I was meeting a loner. 

Hari had all the wealth in the world - However he seemed empty from inside. 

Hari had always been very caring person. In spite of the fact he wasn’t exactly the kind of person that I liked to spend my free time with, I could never decline his invitations. He never really kept in touch with any of the other college guys though. And eventually other guys started to ignore him too.

It was around this time that I heard a few rumours floating around about his shrewdness. He was said to have double talked and taken advantage of a friend who was in a difficult situation. His over competitiveness during the college days had always put me off, but I started to disconnect from him after I heard about his shrewdness. 

But I couldn't really disconnect from him. I had known “God” for 20 years by then and I had begun to accept him as he was.

Hari had always been very ambitious. He hardly socialized. Which was why, one fine day when Hari commented on one of our classmates travel pictures on facebook, it really surprised all of us.“Nice pictures Arun!” his comment said. 

My first thought was, "Hari on facebook! why was he not working?"

I couldn't help thinking, "Wonder which part of the world was he then!"

But something did feel good that day. After that day, much to our surprise, Hari commented very regularly on our friends' pictures and updates. “Was Hari really trying to reach out to everyone?” I wondered.

On a fine sunday morning, a few days back, my phone rang. I was pleasantly surprised to hear Hari on the line and more so when he very warmly said, "How are you ? When are you calling me for tea?" 

I waited with eagerness that evening for his arrival. Hari hugged me as soon as he saw me and shared all the beautiful gifts he had got for my one year old daughter. He sat on the floor and chatted with my mom and completely relished the hot powa that she had made for him. 

We were all overwhelmed. 

Something had changed around Hari and for the first time in years, he seemed at peace. His shell had softened and he seemed more connected to the people around him.

It seemed as though after going all around the globe and earning all the wealth in the world, he seemed to realize where his real gems lay.

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Happy New Year.. !

Wish you all a happy and joyous new year.. !! :)

( my daughter playing in the sea )

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Nishka and pigeons...

One of the first species my little one started to recognize was the pigeon. These pigeons perch on the window sills of the building in front of our house as well as on the window sill visible from the kitchen window. So even when Nishka was as small as three months old (she turned one a few days back), whenever she got bored we would take her to show her the pigeons. The result was that she learnt the word "Pijjjiiii" (for pigeon) around the same time that she learnt words like "Mummy", "Hi", "Bye" etc.


I had read somewhere, that little ones start dreaming at the age of 11 months or so. I had read and forgotten about it. But one early morning it all came back. It was around six am and we were just waking up. The eleven month old was still in her sleep. Suddenly she turned around, with her eyes closed, and her finger pointing somewhere towards the ceiling, said loudly "Pijjjiiiii....", "Pijjjjjjiiii..." I could only smile. My little one was dreaming about pigeons.


Just yesterday, we had a welcome visitor at our house. Sitting on the pink flowered mattress of our bed was a grey coloured pigeon trying to look cool and disinterested. He sat perched on the mattress and surveyed his surroundings while we stood at a distance and watched. The little one was super excited and the pigeon seemed in no hurry to leave. Kamala, our baby's caretaker took the baby near the pigeon and the pigeon kept standing next to them as if he had known them for ages. The baby smiled at the pigeon, waved her hand and said, "Aiii"(as if to say.. "Hey.. look up!") The pigeon stubbornly chose to not turn to her call. She called him again, "Hiiiii!" The pigeon kept looking straight. Kamala, who was holding the baby with one hand, touched and stroked the pigeon on its back. The pigeon seemed to enjoy it. Kamala then put her hand around the pigeon and held him. Nishka squealed in delight. She turned back to look at me and pointing her finger at the pigeon, squealed to me again, as if say, "Look mamma.. Pijjjji"


We have been staying in this house for around 10 years now. Pigeons and monkeys used to have a free hand at the house when we had initially moved in. Once they noticed that there were people staying in the house, they stopped coming. They must have stopped feeling a part of the house.


Now, after a long 8-9 years, thanks to the little one, the pigeons were back in...!

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A walk under the moon

Thinking about that day still brings a smile on my face. The day had not been particularly good. It was eight thirty in the night and since I had nothing else to do, I sat with a book.

My nine month old darling was playing on her own and mumbling to herself. At one point I saw her sneaking a glance at me. I put down my book and decided to have a mother and daughter time with the little one.

So I put a cap on her head ( which of course she kept pulling out ), and put socks on her feet ( she thrust forth her little feet to me so that I could put the socks on them easily ), took a small pink handkerchief and much to the delight of the little one, we went out for a walk.

It was a full moon night and the moon was shining brightly. I showed Nishka the moon and she smiled at it. The sky was clear and the stars were all twinkling. Nishka looked up at the sky and gurgled at the stars. And then she looked back at me amazed.

We went a full round in the garden of our apartment complex and then settled down on a lawn chair. The little girl has learnt to stand with support so I made her stand leaning on the back support of the chair. Nishka and me now sat watching the garden path and the people walking on it.

We decided to have some fun. Nishka has just started saying "hi". So if you say Hi to her, her reply will range from "Haaaayyyy" to "Haaa Yeeee" to a simple Hi. Her voice is melodious and is a delight to hear. We thought it would be a good idea to greet the people walking on the lane.

So whenever I saw any person coming near our chair, I would whisper to Nishka, "Nishka, hi! Nishka, Hi" and she would get the cue, look at the person and say "Hhhhaaaaayyyy". It must have been a pretty sight for any onlooker - a 9 month old girl, leaning against a chair, and waving a Haaayyyy to one and all.

There were different reactions to her hi - some of them were nice and some of them were funny. A young couple in their late thirties seemed so preoccupied in their walk that they hardly noticed a beauty of life waving at them. It took them three rounds around the garden and louder Haaaayyys from the baby to pause, look, wave back and smile.

A guy in his early thirties, jogged with a ear phone on his ear. He kept jogging on. Much to our amusement, he did not notice the baby at all. Or if he noticed, he chose to ignore her.

The best reactions were from an old couple. They were walking slowly, enjoying the breeze, smiling and talking to each other. They had noticed the baby from far and as they came near us, they waved at her and the baby responded with a HAAAAYY. They came closer, cooeed to her for a while and then waved a good bye.

At one point we saw a smart teenage girl. She was wearing a red t-shirt and white skirt, sport shoes, had her hair tied up into a long pony and had hung a tennis racket on her back. She was turning towards her home when she heard a hi. She turned back and on seeing a baby wave a hi, giggled and played with the baby for a while before going back home.

We had spent half an hour in the garden 'hi'ing everybody. Nishka and me had fun and made our journey back home talking to each other and hoping that we had managed to bring a smile on a few people's faces.

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I know...

Last week, my mom, aunt, husband and I went to a jeweler's shop to get some jewelry for me. After a lot of debate we entered a high profile newly opened gold shop. After looking around a little, I found a beautiful pair of jhumkas that I really liked. We asked for a break up of the cost of the earrings. I loved the earrings and was willing to pay the price the shop keeper quoted for it. However, my mom after hearing to the breakup, seemed to say things like, “I guess we need ask dad about buying the earrings.”

Uh! I was a little surprised by that! And I was a little upset too. I mean what would dad know about gold and the cost of gold? If she did not like the earrings why wasn’t mom saying so? I tried reasoning with her that it was no use asking dad. But she wasn’t being very enthusiastic about buying the earrings. Why was my mom being so difficult? I thought.

I realized that I was becoming restless and impatient and felt bad about it.

That day we went back without making any purchase.

Once calmed down a little, I called my mom and asked her what the real issue was; to which she replied that she thought the cost of the jewelry was exorbitant. Again my mind started thinking - mom must have not liked the jewelry. That’s why, she was talking about price.

Since, she hadn't liked the earrings anyways, I thought I would go with my husband the next day and see if I there was something else that I would like. We went to three more prominent jewelers in the locality and we checked out the jewelry and the prices there.

To my surprise, I discovered that my mom was right! The jewelry cost at all the other major shops were at least a good 10% lower than the one in the first one. How could that be possible! I thought. I also discovered how the first jeweler was managing to camouflage the extra cost that he was charging. My mom, with her knowledge of gold rates, was able to figure out that something was not right!

I couldn’t feel sorry enough for making my mom wrong the previous day. With all my arrogance of “I know things better”, I did not even give her chance to voice herself.

Don’t we do that all the time, with our various near and dear ones? A lot of times, instead of hearing out someone patiently, we make judgments about people, and assume what the person is going to say or do. And the result of this is that the person does not have any space to say something creatively.

Once I realized my mistake, I called up my mom and apologized for my behavior the previous day and that evening we bought a pair of earrings that was not only beautiful but also priced properly.

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Oh! To be a baby again !

“Are you looking at Ajji? What are you seeing?” says an old lady slightly bent due to her age. She is wearing a faded cotton saree the pallu of which hangs loosely around her body and her shoulder. She has noticed the baby watching her pass by our car parked near a chat stall. The wrinkles on her face belie the struggles that she must have endured. The worn out cotton saree shows that she is from a lower middle class family. The smile on her face shows her kindness and her trust in life. She beams at me and looks back at the baby.

“Is Ajji looking nice ? Such a cutie pie you are ... Look at you staring at me... God bless you my dear... !” she says as she blesses the little one, smiles at me and moves on.

I feel movement on my legs as I am lost in my thoughts with my baby sitting on my lap. It is around nine pm in the night and we are waiting for my husband to get a packet of milk from a near by provision store. The baby is smiling and talking in her baby language. I follow her gaze to see a 70 year old cobbler smiling at her and cooing back at her from his small ragged shoe stall made of planks of wood. He is tall and well built. He is wearing a faded albeit clean white kurta and a faded white turban adorns his head. His demeanor evokes respect. Seeing me notice him, he gives me an apologetic smile. The conversation between the baby and him has been interrupted by my gaze but the blissful smile on his face is still intact. Seeing me smile back at him, he cooes to the baby a little louder.

Then he comes near our car and struggles to communicate with us. He says in Tamil, a language that I don't speak and very sparingly understand, “I have four children and twelve grandchildren. What to do akka? I have to come down here from my village in Hosur, which is around 60 kms from here, to earn my livelihood. Looking at your daughter I am reminded of my grandchildren...” He pauses to smile at me. I can see contentment all written over his face.

I am at Crosswords, the book store, looking for certain books. I have the baby in my hands and I can see that she has become restless suddenly. I can hear the baby saying, “AAaaeee…aaaaa… aaa…eee… aaAAAeee…aaa” I am curious and I turn back. I see two boys and two girls (staff at Crosswords) talking to my baby. The little one is excited at the attention she is getting and talking back to them. I smile at them, and let the baby entertain them. A little while later, they say “bye baby” and go back to their work areas. The smile on their face is still intact.

I pay for my book at Crosswords and go back to my car. I remember the happy faces of the old woman, the cobbler and the staff at crosswords. I turn to look at my little one who is now on her bubble making spree oblivious to the happiness she has spread around.

I smile with contentment as I make my journey back home.

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Stay Hungry... Stay Foolish...

I was pregnant with my child then. My grandmother had not been keeping well at that time. I had had a bad year. I had had a misunderstanding with a childhood friend of mine and few of the decisions I had taken had proved wrong. Perpetually in confusion and resisting the new changes that life was thrusting on me, I would be in a lot of discomfort. And then one fine day, early morning, my brother called me - He informed - Granny is no more.

No more! Huh!

Misunderstanding with a childhood friend!? :)

Ego was coming in the way of my friend and me getting back? :)

I went and visited granny in the hospital.

Was it true? Was this person, with whom I grew up - whom I admired so much - a person of determination and grit, a person with life and joy - just a body - Was there no soul anymore? Would this person never talk to me?

I mean, was there really no life anymore? - How was I supposed to come to terms with that?

My decisions had gone wrong?:)

Why did I feel so heavy and yet so light again..?

Though I still found it difficult to comprehend the reality of what happened, the inevitability of death hit me. A burden seemed lifted off my chest. And all my confusions seemed silly. I got in touch with my friend and told her about my pregnancy. I noticed that she seemed genuinely and honestly happy. I felt the tension waning away and after a long time I felt happy within.

It was at such a time, that I chanced upon Steve Jobs’s commencement speech at Stanford. Among the other things he talks in his speech, he mentions about his close shave with death and I couldn't help agreeing with it.

I know this is a much heard speech, but I couldn’t help reproducing some parts of it here again -

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself.

Stay hungry, Stay Foolish... !

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Mom and me and you...

As you purse your lips, your face content in our love, your expressions showing indifference to my cuddles, you spot the shining gold in my mangalsutra and play around with it - I can feel you feeling secure in my arms. I remember, as I was growing up, the gaze of little me reached up to the connical "thalli" and the black beads of my mom's mangalsutra and I remember how much this single simple black and gold ornament symbolized security to me.

As you tug at my kameez, lifting and pulling the corner, watching curiously at the flowers and designs on it, trying to pick them out of my kameez - I can feel you exploring life. I remember how after having a hearty meal or a delicious feast, I would washed my hands, and I would love to wipe them clean with my mom's pallu - I remember how much joy this little action gave me.

As you cry when I move around, calling and imploring me to pick you up, as you get mysteriously quitened when I do pick you up, as you stretch both your hands on my shoulder, envelop me in your hug and fall asleep in the comfort of my shoulder - I can feel the contentment and bliss you feel in my arms. I remember the days when my dad would go outstation, my brother and me would fight to sleep next to my mom and I remember how much the love, comfort and warmth of my mother would envelop me as I snuggled and slept besides her.

As you go "aaaaaaaaaa" in satisfaction and fulfillment of a full stomach, as you are ready to take on new activities with renewed energy - I see the twinkle in your eyes, your mischievous smile and your happiness. I remember the time, when I would be ill, hardly able to open my eyes due to a high temperature - let alone eat on my own, my mom would feed me with her own hands and the same morsel of food would seem so much more tastier.

As you poop and oblivious to the poop, you play and pull everything around you, while all of us, including me, come to clean you and set you free - I see that you know, that in case of trouble, all you need to do is to cry. I remember as we were growing up how my mom, wiped our tears or made a joke of some silly fights that we would have had with our friends - I would know that I was being serious about nothing - after all life was all a play.

As I watch you grow day by day, you will know, as I know, that no matter what you go through as you grow up, no matter who will stand by you as you fail, when you open your eyes and mind over your troubles, you will see your parents right there in front of your eyes.

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The baby...

I will go slowly and sweep and mop the room. I will be careful not to disturb the sleeping baby...- said Kamala, our maid.

Hmm... I said - ok!

After five mins, I went into the bedroom for some work, I saw Kamala transfixed near the baby's bed, broom in one hand, a beatific smile on her face and saying helplessly - The baby is awake ! I turn to look at the three month old baby - with her legs folded over her tummy and hands tugging at the blanket, and cooing to herself - she seemed to be in her own world thoroughly in bliss. I smile.

Waaaa.. Waaaa.. Waaa.. she cried on my legs - as I was cooing to her massaging her body. Hearing her wails, Sahida, the cook runs in from the kitchen. 'Kya ho rahi hai sooo. Baby kyon ro rahi hai sooo. Thel dal rahin. Baby! Baby.. ! Idhar dekho .. !'( What is happening ? Why is the baby crying ? Are you having a oil massage ? Baby! Baby ! See here ..! ) She calls her in Urdu with a heart filled motherly smile. She tries pacifying her - but the little one is angry at being massaged without her agreement. And just when Sahida and me are succeeding in pacifying the baby - Sahida gets up in an exclaimation ! Oh ho ! Meri roti jal rahi hai !!! Beti ka awaaz sunkar mein aayee.. ! Offfooo!( oh ho ! The roti I have kept to cook is getting burnt !!! Because I heard the little one crying, I came running to see whats happening. Offfooo ! )Shaking her head helplessly, she turns to run back to the kitchen with a chuckle.

The baby is three and a half month old now. As a mother, I have hardly had the opportunity to go out and shop for her. Well, when there is a baby in the house, there are so many people visiting. Every visitor who comes gets a gift for her - and most of them end up buying a dress. So most of the dresses the little one has, is a gift from the umpteen number of uncles and aunties, grandpas and grannys, bhaiyas and didis she has. "The dresses are beautiful and more than sufficient, but, When will I ever get an opportunity to buy her a dress!" I complain to my ever patient husband. So last sunday, we pack her bag and set out shopping! Shopping in a shop that sold dreams!

Once we enter the shop, I cant just wait to get to the kids section. In the section that sold the girls dresses - it was almost as if I was in a fairy land. Blissful whites, pretty pinks, playful reds and navy blues, teasing lacy mauves and greens - the dresses were in all colours. Oh ! What was I supposed to buy and what was I supposed to leave ? All of them looked so - so beautiful. My princess would look beautiful in any one of them..! I debated and argued with myself in my mind and I picked up two dresses - a white dress with little blue flowers and a thick blue velvet ribbon tied into a bow in the middle, and another white dress with huge splashes of velvet and purple flowers, again with a huge purple ribbon in the middle.

My heart filled with joy !

Just three months back, all of us seemed to be preoccupied. Kamala and Sahida were busy in their daily routines. I was in my own world - complaining and being bitter about anything and everything. And today as the baby seems to complete around 3 and half months, mine and everybody's life around me had changed for ever. My cup of joy seemed to overflow.

As I get back to the car with my hubby and the darling, I think to myself - If there is anything called bliss - I guess I am experiencing it now. Dear God - Thank you for everything.. !

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The journey that was...

We came from all different backgrounds - Some of us ran engineering firms, some of us ran Flour Mills, some of us ran Project Management Consultancy, some of us were jewellers, some of us were Handicraft exporters, some of us made business out of Agriculture, some of us ran non profit organizations like a Trust, some of us were into Fashion design – so on and so forth. We all came from different parts of India and the world - Mumbai, Ludhiana, Calcutta, Meerut, Chhattisgarh, Nagpur, Kurukshetra, Chennai, Tirupati, Rajkot, Mysore, Germany etc. We spoke different languages, some of us spoke the same language differently, and some of us couldn't understand when the majority spoke in Hindi. Some of us were flashy in the way we dressed, some of us were sober. Some of us were neatly shaven and had our hair cleanly trimmed, some of us wore our tresses long.

But more important than what we wore, how we spoke, or how we carried ourselves, we all had something in common - we had a dream and a passion and an ambition to live our dream. Did not matter which path we chose to fulfill our dreams! Each one of us had a drive. Each of us had a story to tell. We had Vineet who started his journey with a 5000 rupee loaned from his dad and went on to become a successful retailer of garments. We had Surabhi who at the time when everyone was choosing the "science" stream for their career had the courage to choose fashion design and become successful designer. We had Jagadeesh who studied engineering, and quit his job to pursue agriculture and went on to do research and marketing of agricultural products. This list is long and much more interesting – I just put the names of the few students I have interacted a little closely. To my classmates – my apologies! We had students from family businesses who had stories to tell how their fathers toiled through it all and today manage firms that are internationally reputed. The most important responsibility the students now had was to manage and maintain the hard earned relationships and reputation that was already built up.

And through it all we had teachers who guided us to think - Think simply and think big! The knowledge and the commitment and the guiding hand of our teachers helped us walk towards our goals. More important than what they taught verbally in the classes, the hazaar personal and non personal experiences and the stories of the various entrepreneurs they shared with us, gave us ideals and role models to study, debate and follow.

How can I not mention the wonderful campus! I personally would love being in the campus. No matter what thoughts one would have, once you get into the gates of IIMB, you are greeted by the calm, serene surroundings that gradually settle your thoughts down. The beautiful trees, the long corridors, the high ceilings, and the deadly silence - how can anyone ever forget that ? Not to mention the hours of discussions spent sitting in the cafe coffee day or the java green or at one of random spacious staircases. In the silence and the discussions that broke the silence, was our creativity nourished.

Its not that everything went right all the year through - we had our share of issues and altercations and disagreements with the management. I am sure the ones who stayed at MDC would have many more stories to tell of the fights and the patch ups. But I am sure at the end of it - we can all say without a second thought and say this with pride that "I had the privilege of studying a course on entrepreneurship at IIMB and it will remain one of the most memorable experiences of my life"

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I know it is a little too early...

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I know it is a little too early
But why do you look more graceful rather than cute or sweet to me


I know it is a little too early
But why do I see a lady in you


I know it is a little too early
But why do I see you enchanting all with your beatific smile


I know it is a little too early
But why do your soulful round eyes seem to hold my whole world


I know it is a little too early
But why does your silent understanding give me hope for life


I know it is a little too early
But why, you, my dear daughter,
look like an angel to me

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This post is on my 1 1/2 month old daughter and also my first poem on the blog

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She came, she conquered !

When I opened my eyes in the hospital, she was there.. She looked dark, short, friendly and in the latter half of her life (read above 50s). Her hair was neatly bunned up, had a red bindi on her for-head, and wore a printed cotton sari, the worth of which showed that she came from the lower middle class section of the society. One end of the sari was tucked in and she looked ready to take on a task if given. More important than whatever else she wore on herself, she wore a lively smile.


I had just delivered a beautiful angelic baby girl and she was the nanny who would help me to take care of the child for the critical first 40 days of my daughter's life. Though I had spoken to her on the phone earlier, I was seeing her for the first time.


Once the morning visitors at the hospital left and boredom set in, we got talking. She was easy to talk. She trusted people easily and within ten mins into our chat, she told me that she was a manglorean married to a malayali( a keralite ). "Yenkulna love marriage "(Mine is a love marriage- in tulu) she said with a broad smile and a hint of blush :) Sounded nice to hear that!


Over the next forty days she was with us, she told me about her four children - two girls and two boys and her husband. She had known her husband since she was young, fat, round and was 16. But love struck only when she was 21 she said. Acquaintance of 6 years, courtship of one, married to the person you love and respect - you couldn’t have asked more, right? But life hadn’t been exactly kind to her. At the young age of 32.. She is 54 now, her husband to whom she had been married for about 11 years now - and with whom she had four children - got into an accident and lost mobility in both the legs. Doctors had given up and said he wouldn’t be able to walk any more.

Life couldn't have turned worse, right.. ?

Not for her. Challenges come up so that you can experience life. She groomed her children to strengthen themselves- took the help of a few close friends - braced herself up for the challenge. Her faith in God and life intact - she boosted the doctors to not give up hope. Not losing her characteristic humor and good nature - working very hard, putting all her savings of 16 years ( she had been working since she was 16 ) into her husband's treatment, she got her husband's life and mobility ( partially - he is able to walk slowly with some limp ) back from the very clutches of fate. I don’t mind spending my money - I got my husband back - she says with a relieved smile that betrays the tear that moists her eye.

Today her children are all grown up and are all earning members of the family. The family together earns around 25K per month- Hardly sufficient for a decent life. But I couldn’t have had a better example of living!


She tells me - Once in fifteen days if not in a week, we go out a restaurant and have food together and then end the day with a movie. My husband has no other outing - I need to give him at least this entertainment - he used to love eating out earlier - now because of the accident, why should I deny him this pleasure.


My second daughter is dark - but beautiful. I think people find her eyes and hair beautiful. What do I say akka - all the guys who come to see my elder daughter, end up asking my younger daughter's hand in marriage. I have said no to a lot of proposals - but this time, when an hotelier came and asked my daughter in marriage - I couldn’t say no -she told me once.

My daughter was not interested too much (she says with a giggle) - he is crazy about her! - She tells me with a mischievous happy contended smile.


She loves her job and is extremely good at it. All the newborns find a second mother in her. She took care of my angel from the day of her birth to the 40th day - understanding and decoding her every cry. Whether it was hunger, sleep, to be cleaned, or some discomfort - Aunty( as we called her ) would understand her. A slightest sound from the angel would wake her up in the night from the deepest of her slumber.

No wonder as the days of her assignment with our family is getting over; she is finding it difficult to hand over the child's responsibilities that she had been taking care to us.

Yesterday, I asked her - you might be finding it difficult to leave the newborns after your assignment na.

Yes beta.. Yesterday I had tears in my eyes..If I had not taken on the next assignment, I would have stayed back..

I could see she had fallen in love with my angel.. :)

I don’t do outstation assignments these days.. But somehow I ended up taking this assignment. I guess there was some favour left from the previous births, which I had to return, to this kid and you. - She says with a smile and trying hard to gulp down the lump that is beginning to choke her throat.

I agree aunty! My thoughts too!

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Vayun and the baby

Thats not a baby. Thats a football! - my 4 year old nephew, Vayun, tells me looking at my 9 months pregnant tummy. I smile. I tell him - Inside the tummy is a baby, beta. He isnt so sure. :) At a later point I ask him to touch my tummy to feel the baby - he does it very hesitantly - he says - I am scared.. ! with a smile.

Last weekend, I was to go for my scan appointment and I decided to take my nephew along with me. Atleast he could see the baby that he has been told so much about.

And on the weekend, we finally reach the hospital waiting room. Once we enter the maternity ward of the hospital, we are greeted by a huge picture of a pretty to-be mom with a tummy that looked like a football. Vayun stops in front of picture, comes back to me- looks at my tummy and bursts out in a giggle. Perhaps he thinks there are more women with a funny football tummy ! :)

And then after some wait, we go into the scan room. He sees the baby on the scan machine, but he is not able to figure out much.

Can you see the baby? - Doctor asks him kindly .

No! He says, as he is trying to make sense of the grey areas on the scan machine.
That was understandable - coz the baby was not very clear in the scan.

Looking at his eager face, Doctor asks him kindly – are you waiting for the baby to come out..?

He says - YES!..

Doctor smiles back and says - Baby also wants to come out to meet you .. !

He giggles in excitement at that ! :)

The doctor feels sorry that Vayun is not able to see the baby clearly- so does the next best thing. She puts the doppler machine on my tummy.

The baby's heart beat goes - DUBH dubh ! DUBH dubh ! DUBH dubh ! DUBH dubh ! - LOUD AND CLEAR.

He smiles and giggles in delight and anticipation !

Once the scan is over, ( secretly I was more disappointed than him that I couldnt show him what I had been promising the whole of last week ), I ask him - Did you see the baby ?

He looks at me with an innocent beautiful face and says - How could I , the baby is in your tummy na.. !

Well, I couldnt argue more.. !

After a while, he looks at me curiously, widens his big round eyes in a question and asks with the innocence of a four year old- The doctor couldnt take the baby out ?

Uh ! I am stumped.

I recover and reply back- No beta.The doctor couldnt ! ( What else do I say.. )

By now we have reached the patients waiting area. He asks me again - loud and clear for everyone in the waiting room to hear - When is the doctor taking the baby out ?

I sneak a glance around - all the patients have stopped doing whatever they are doing and have started looking at my nephew and are giving him a loving, adoring glance - also they are simultaneously sneaking a glance at me, waiting to see what answer I would give him. I smile at him and say affectionately - She will take it out beta.. Maybe in another 10 days ...

He smiles back at me and says - Another ten days ? OK ! ..

The answer seemed to satisfy him. He seemed as if he could definitely wait for 10 days more.

And then he runs behind me again as we scoot out of the hospital.

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Ba bye 2010, Welcome 2011

As the year ends, let us take the time out to complete anything that is incomplete about the past year and set our visions for the new year. Hubby and me did just that two days back. And boy oh boy ! did we have an interesting list.

We first sat and wrote down all the things we accomplished in 2010. We looked at our personal accomplishments and our professional ones. We looked at our accomplishments in the areas of interests - like blogging, newsletter, or other hobbies and interests. We looked at our relationships - with our parents, inlaws, friends and family . Once done, I was left with a lot of satisfaction and fulfillment at the accomplishments. I was left with acknowledgments for all my friends, family and near and dear ones. Most importantly I was left with gratitude for Him for giving me the strength, serenity and love to sail through this year. He gave me so much without a second thought. It was time for me to acknowledge the miracles He has caused in my life.

And then we sat and wrote things that we we wanted to do this year and have not done. There were two category of items on that list. There were items that I had taken on - but not had not done much - the reasons could be anything from procrastination to not prioritizing. I took on prioritizing on those activities for the coming year. The surprising part of this list came from items - that seemed so important at the beginning of this year - but because of some new developments in our life - no longer are a priority - so not accomplishing them was ok. Also there were some tasks that one of us was stuck this year. It was a good time to reflect on them together and coach and guide the other - it was a process of learning and growth.

And then we sat and wrote down what we wanted to accomplish this year. The primary focus when we did this was to make this list out of what we enjoyed doing - not out of fixing or correcting something that has not worked for us in the past. Personally I found this very satisfying. Once this list was formed, I noticed that the list comprised of things I loved doing like writing, painting, music, Kruti etc. Personal and professional goals came next.

And last but not the least, we sat together and created what we wanted the 2011 together as a family - we created goals that we both needed to work on together - like investing in something together, doing a Kruti project, a long vacation, our contribution to our parents lives etc.

I am not sure how many of our goals we are going to accomplish - but the thought of living a life that we visualized, sure brings a smile on our faces :)

What are your plans for the new year ? :)

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He came ... !

There was a bell on my door. I opened it and I saw him. Looked very handsome in a yellow T-shirt, navy blue sleeveless jacket and a khaki color three-fourths. Gave a small smile when he saw me, and then came in as if he knew the house like it was his own. Giving me a coy, confident glance or two, he settled down on the sofa. I smiled back - a warm friendly smile.

Looking around absentmindedly, his glance fell on the pack of polo on the center table. He picked it up and ate one or two of it, by giving me a polite glance and a smile. He asked me about Raghav( my husband ) and went about saying a shy hello to my in laws. I couldn't help smiling at his humility.

Both I or he did not know what to say for a long time - so he picked up the mobile on the center table and started playing Bouncers. He laughed with glee every time the ball jumped up the next obstacle. At one point when he was stuck, he came and sat besides me and urged me to play. There are only few things in your life that make you feel so important.

He kept the key of his car in the pocket of his jacket, with the key-chain hanging out of the pocket. Like a typical guy, he seemed so much in love with his car. And then something seemed different about him yesterday. He had always known Tulu ( his mother tongue ), and English. Yesterday, he was communicating in Hindi and Kannada too. Considering that he had never been exposed to these two languages, I was so proud of him that he could pick up the languages so quickly.

And then, after about an hour of his coming, Raghav came home - he was bashful, excited and happy at the same time. I mean, I have never ever seen such a honest and open display of beautiful emotions!

As he was wearing his shoes and getting ready to leave yesterday after filling all of us at home with joy, he suddenly seemed to remember something important. He removed his shoes and came to each one of us, gave a heart filled hug and a gentle peck on our cheeks and rushed back to his duty.

I have known him since for ever but yesterday was so different. He seemed so much at ease. And the moment he hugged me, my world seemed so complete. I felt so wanted and trusted.

Though he is only four, my nephew filled my world !

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Dodda..

Words fail me as I try to describe my grand mom. Let me try and put down my earliest memories of her. Imagine a house like I have described here.

In this house,On the left side of the house lived my grand mom ( with my grandpa when he was alive ) and her children ( before they were married ) and on the right side lived my grandpa's brother and his family.

After the long trek home when we reached our house, we would be greeted with a huge exclamation, heartfelt happiness of both the set of grandparents. As we would settle down, we would be served breakfast by my grandmom. She was our loving Dodda.

With a smile on her face and grit and determination as she carried herself through the house maneuvering her arthritis infected legs, she ordered the workers around and got her work done. She knew her neighbors well and she was well in control of her environment.

Life when the children were growing up must have been tough - Grand pa was a Yakshagana artist and would be on tour for months together. Taking care of the household and the children alone , even though my other grandpa was around, must have been tough for her.

The last few years of her life , she stayed with her children - 2-3 months at a stretch she would stay with each of her children. The best part of her was the way she would blend herself into the culture of the family and become an asset to the house. She had an excellent memory and learnt like a child. She knew the names of all the cricketers - Indian, Australian and a few from other countries by name and loved watching cricket matches. She recognised models and could tell a Aishwarya Rai and a Sushmita Sen. She knew where each of her grandchildren lived ( US, Australia or parts of India ) and where they worked ( Wipro, Infosys etc. ) .

She would spend time watching her favorite kannada serials. She had a great sense of humour and would laugh like a child at any joke. She was 85 this year.

Last few months had been tough for her. She had had strokes in her head which would leave her immobile for a few days - but then she would recover. But this time she decided to move on to the other world. On the next day of Diwali, she suffered another stroke - and was hospitalized. And somehow at the back of everyone's minds and hearts, as well as her own heart, I guess she knew her job in this world is done - and I am sure she proud of who she had been and how she had carried herself. On Tuesday morning, she had a heart attack and passed away peacefully in her bed.

Its hard to believe that the silent, strong, child-like presence Dodda had at my parents or my aunt’s houses will not be around anymore - It has been tough even typing that up. Dodda, I will always miss you for the respect, determination, and dignity with which you carried yourself and when I am at your age – one thing that I am going to strive at - is to live a life of dignity the way you have.

Once again , Dodda we will miss you !

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The week that was !

This week's post is a personal post - but then, since all of you who are reading this are people who matter to me - I thought you might want to know about my experience of life last week :) For people who dont know much about me, I started a course on entrepreneurship at IIMB last week.
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What a eventful week that was. Last week I completed the first of my 'face to face' session for a course on 'management program on entrepreneurs'.

My course began last sunday, when I went for the inaugural function for our batch which was clubbed with the valediction function of the previous one. Let me describe my experiences as I felt it.

Now, never in my student life, even though I was an above average student, did I ever imagine, that I would have the profound privilege of studying in one of the premier educational institution in the country. The IIMs and the IITs were always a place of awe and mystery for me.

Therefore, when I drove in on sunday evening, I kept wondering to myself - what the hell did the profs see in my Statement of Purpose that made them select me.. ! Was it all a mistake ? I need to be watchful - I was about to hob-nob with one of the top most intellectual crowd and teachers in the country ! :) Well, I wasn't disappointed. The kind of speeches our professors gave to welcome us gave us a very good idea about what we were into. What with one of the profs rattling off Sanskrit sholka to substantiate every piece of advice he was giving us - well , you see, it is all there in the vedas ! :) And another one talking about how our generation needs to work on making our country one of most respected ones in education and other fields. The night ended with the "networking" dinner with our senior batch. Now , you need to remember - this was a course on entrepreneurship - so the introductions that night went -
"Hello, I am abc and I run "xyz" " . That was funny ! :)

Day 1 - We were advised to be half an hour early at the classroom . We were given instructions on how to go about making ourselves comfortable in the new campus - and exactly at nine am - we get a glimpse of what education at IIMB could be.

We were introduced to the Accounting professor - Mrs. Hema Krishnamurthy . A simple, graceful , beautiful, short lady in her mid fifties - she spelt poise in every thing that she was doing . One of my first thoughts were - I had heard that people at IIMs do not look after their personal appearance - Well, my experience was quite different - I thought they took extra care of their appearance - They looked so so so good !! And they had their intellect to match ! :) Mrs Hema Krishnamurthy took us through the accounting lecture like a seasoned teacher. She knew her subject well and had rubbed shoulders with the top in various industries she had worked in. But the best part was the clarity and ease with which she delivered her lecture and made accounting sound so simple - Thats another thing - have you ever noticed that as people become more and more realized , they tend to make things more and more simpler - the ones for whom life sounds complicated, are the ones who haven't figured it out at all. :)

The next part of the day was with Prof Kumar who talked to us about different people's experiences in starting their ventures - and how they either succeeded or failed in their dreams. Well, this lecture made us realize how similar we all were to the heroes in the case studies we were looking at . For one, both ( them or us ) did not have any clue on how our dreams would actually shape - except for our gut feel, conviction , and drive to make it all happen. Another interesting thing that Prof Kumar talked about , was on how much "gut feel" plays a part in the decisions we make in our life. He was telling us if anyone of us hears around 10 ideas and we reject 9 ideas based on our gut feel - 90% of the times, we are right. Its only one in a thousand cases, where one of those 9 ideas make it big. Well I was happy :) - cos, I could also see that the gut feel of the profs told them that Kruti was an idea worth pursuing - well, that was heartning !

One class that I absolutely enjoyed was the Statistics class. This class was taken by the smart, tall and super fast prof , Prof Shankar. And until this class began , I did not realize how much I had missed maths !! God , I think I came the most alive in the statistics class - completely enjoying the statistical conclusions and riddles that this professor put up !! He took us through mean, median and mode all over again with very good examples of where it could be applied practically.

Well, if anyone of us thought that intellectual crowd is boring - I was pleasantly proved wrong . Here I was in the midst of the best of the intellect and I could only think of them as very very interesting. One more thing that I noticed in the professors was that they never ever rejected an idea - whether it was put randomly by a sleepy student, or whether it was a well thought of question. They had the knack of listening to that question and bringing it to the subject that we were being taught. I could go on and on.

And now about my fellow classmates. First glimpse of my classmates looked as if I was here with the smartest and coolest crowd that I could imagine. Each one of the student here was so alive and bursting with ideas. They were from diverse fields like machine tools, agricultural products, agriculture, construction, IT and they were from all over the country - Rajasthan, Kerala, Chattisgarh, Delhi, Tirupati ! My only question was, a lot of these guys look like kids - have they really made it big in their ventures ? Well I was proved right on both my assessments - around 50-60% of the crowd "was" below 30 and yes, these guys "had proved" that they had it in them to run their own businesses. Some other day, on some other post, I intend to put up the list of the profile of my classmates with a link of their business websites. We had huge mix and match of students - We had the highly energetic kid Devi( sorry girl :) ) who seemed to be the center of everyone's attention , we had 25-26 year old guys like Sid - Who kept us entertained with their wise cracks:) And we had the very very very wise :) 51 year old Anand - who ran multiple enterprises in Rajasthan - and as the crowd said - kept them running without a single phone call made back home. !


The cherry on the cake had to be the last day of the class - We were split into groups of five and each group had to present one venture to the class and the professors . My group chose "Kruti" !!!! Boy oh boy ! Was I nervous ! Every other group talked about how they made money out of their ventures and here I was - I had so far, only thought about breaking even ! I was even wondering was it a good idea to present Kruti at all ! :) But then made a good powerpoint
presentation , and 'lo and behold' ! we presented Kruti in all its glories and shortfalls. Can you believe it ! The crowd loved Kruti ! My classmates gave me ideas on how I could take my idea forward - They offered me help in doing my research and how I could raise money for my project. It had to be a dream come true !! :) I was left with that if this group of people could be impressed, then obviously I was doing something right - and Kruti has a long long way to go.

With that fulfilling end to a week long session ( The next face to face is on Mar 22 ) , we bid good bye to all our professors and classmates who had come from all over the country.

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PS - The pictures in this post are a few glimpses of the flora and fauna of IIMB .( The pics are not so sharp - will try and put up better pics )

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Swagatham - Shubh Swagatham - 2009

Dec 31 2008

Life goes a full circle. Divya, my old college friend, is a very good singer. Her unique tone and voice was legendary in our university. I still remember our ragging days. Seniors had picked up Divya to rag. In their arrogance they said 'We want to hear you sing'.

That was a totally wrong choice they made. Totally Wrong .

Divya, who was practically unknown to the class till then, said - 'But I can hardly sing' . 'Thats ok ! We want to hear your voice! Sing !' . 'But then I can sing only Bhajans ' - she said in a meek voice. We ( her classmates ) almost felt sorry for her. 'Sing! ' They insisted.

Divya then started to sing. God I still remember all my hairs standing on my ends when she rendered that beautiful ( very difficult ) classical bhajan in her strong, very powerful voice. Gosh ! Was that beautiful!

That moment on- Divya was a legend in our class and perhaps in the college.

Today Divya is a proud mother of two - and here is a song she has taught her young daughter. This song is a performance Amika( her older daughter ) gave on her school stage.

So, from Amika and me , family and friends, and all our well wishers, we welcome the year 2009 and wish you all a happy , peaceful, and joyous new year.

Post script -

Had to put together the video( from some pictures we had taken during the Kruti 1 fest), since blogger doesnt upload music files ..

Any guesses on where you have heard this song ?

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Mangaloruuuuu

This post is about our trip to Mangalore in the last week of December 2007 .
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After a lot of debate and last minute decisions, we finally decided to go to ooooruuuuu-- Mangalore.. Willy , suggested the Chikamagalur route , since the Sakleshpur route wasnt very motorable.. We started at 8 am in the morning started for our loooooong journey towards Mangalore... Enjoyed the beautiful ride till Chikmagalur , where we joined Wily, Trily and Anita ;) .. And then started our particularly bumpy ride.. but all the irritation of the bumpy ride vanished when we stopped at at all the scenic spots.. we took snaps with our analog SLR ( I particularly am inspired to take a few snaps - especially after I saw how beautiful the Kerala snaps had come thru the SLR - will try to scan and post the snaps ) ..

As we neared Mangalore, I called Krishna Uncle up , to inform him that we are coming- And we were in for a pleasant surprise.. Prutha and Giri were at home ! Wow ! Reached Home around 8 pm... after some initial talks.. me and Prutha got going.. sorry talking ;)... We made poooriiiees and Egg Burji for everyone .. watched snaps ... and laughed thru out the night...

Next day we all decided to go to our ancestral home...

Me and all my cousins are particularly in love with this house... When we were younger, the only motorable road reached about 3 kms away from the house... The bus would drop us at the 'Primary School' bustop( where my mom and all the aunts had studied till 8th )... And then with our heavy luggage we would trek down for about 1/2 an hour to an hour ( depending upon the speed of our trek ) , through the mountains and the paddy fields , where we would first sight the Anatimar house( our neighbours house ), have a small talk there .. the dogs of all the houses nearby would have started barking now , announcing the arrival of visitors... and then we would walk thru the small muddy pathway and along the water stream before our house would be visible...

Now what do I say about this house... Let me try and describe what this house looks like... This house is atop a small hill.. It has a small stream flowing all around it ... On one end of the house is a stone well... all around are trees that have flowers... you need to walk across three precariously placed bamboo sticks ( that would serve as a bridge across the stream ) to reach the house... On one end of the house is a cow shed... And on one end is a huge hill, that used to serve us as our natural toilets when we were younger.. ;)

Prutha and me ( and as I said earlier, all my cousins ) are in absolute love with this house.. We know each and every corner of this house.. From the veranda.. to the two bedrooms ( for the two grandpa brothers( Prutha's and Mine ) )... to the two kitchens ( showed signs of everything not being exactly ok with the two families :) ) ... to every corner of the attic ( our favorite retreat ).. to the hole in the attic that led to one of our bedrooms .. to the bathroom that is there outside the house.. ( and the smell of the burnt woods with in it )...

When we would come here as children, this house did not have electricity.. So around 7 pm, the lanterns would be lit.. and the mothers would have filled the huge pot in the bathroom and would have lit the fire to have hot water for the children's bath... and then everybody in the family would have bath ( everybody in the village would bathe inthe evening after a hard day's job ) .. eat good food ... and slept soundly..

Mornings would be spent in the cowshed... roaming in the near by hills ... or simply enjoying in the stream...
So many memories just came alive as we visited each and every part of this house... Prutha and Me just didnt tire telling our husbands about how much fun we had doing this and doing that.. !.. According to Raghav, the house lived up to its description, except for the Arcanut plantation that has replaced the paddy fields.

Now a days ( including today ) the car comes right up the cowshed... so there is not much hassle getting to the home.. Also now each and every house in the village has a TV, fan, and fridge to boast of..
But other than that, thankfully, the beauty of the house and the village is still alive .. !
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( Bhaiyoan and Behenoan ! Hope this post brings out all the beautiful memories we have had of this house )
( Shruti, Neel, think I have described this house enough to you - Hope you get a visual picture of what I have been telling you so far )

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Got some beautiful comments from my cousins that I did not want to lose or put up as comments . So here are the comments for all to enjoy -
( Added one more cousin's description -- check it out . Will put up the pictures too soon)
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Hi Veenakka,Your post brought back so many memories. It was like the movies, where you hear a narration and they show it coming alive.Memories of the only two times that I can remember when the house was full of people. When ajja passed away and mama got married.

Remember Prithvi having a bad accident with the old fan in the house during the latter visit. The talent showcasing of all the kids in the hall (forget what that was called).

The call to Nilayanna and the tender coconuts that promptly came down from the trees as soon as you reached. The entire chavadi (if I remember the veranda being called right) filled with aracknut, laid out for drying. The perfectly woven leaves of the coconut tree that formed a mat of sorts. There would always be a mother hen with her 6-10 chicks running around the house .... the failed attempts to run behind the chicks to hold them in our hands, for just a little while.

What I particularly remember about the hall is ajja's( grandpa ) resting chair with, what seemed like quarter mile long arm rests. The small stone grinder that dodda( grandma ) used to beat her beetle leaves and mix, after she had lost all her teeth, but not the desire to color her mouth red with the beetle leaves :).

The long table along the wall, where all the uncles and mamas would sit for dinner of piping hot ganji and kukka da uppad (home made mango pickle) ...and sometimes the deadly combo of that with ungel meen (dried fish)....oooh my mouth waters. I always felt that dried fish never tasted better than when made at the dikkel (patched mud fire place in the kitchen) in that house. I used to love sitting by the dikkel as much as I liked the smell of burnt wood in the bathroom.

Oh! not to mention the attempts to draw water from the well. Washing all the charcoal and mud dirtied clothes of the kids was every mother's nightmare in those days I guess.A lot of memories indeed. Doesn't feel like we ever spent enough time there.It was great idea to post this on your blog veenakka.love deepu
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Veena,

It is a beautiful post, I almost journeyed along in my mind, as you described the setting. Memories came flowing along :)

I’d like to mention the yellow bananas we used to get from the doddas, the kittens roaming around, the night puja, the glow-worms and the cricket sounds in the nights oh…so many delightful memories.

Love
Vinay

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Ooru Memories....
.....I've really enjoyed reading Deepti & Veenakka 's musings .....It's funny how I never appreciatedappreciate how beautiful our village/house is ...
To add a few more memories....
Bootha da pooje( Praying the Spirits - In Mangalore, the spirits are prayed every year for the well being and prosperity of the village and the house ) every year...The quite merciless slaughter of the chickens by the 'Bhattre'( the priest ) for the well being of the family....Followed by offering of the yummy chicken curry [ even though im now vegetarian!] to the stone boothas..Ajja always used to say.. look, there's an ant carrying a elephant in the sky!'..where upon we wud promptly turn to the skies to see this miracle...& the boothas( spirits ) wud grab the oppurtunity to eat[they cudnt eat if we watched!]
( Veena - Yaa.. All you guys would say you could see the ant carrying the elephant and I would never be able to see anything - and I would wonder whats happening :) .. what are you guys seeing that I am not able to see.. Still wonder Pruths, kya dikhta tha tum logon ko tab?? lol)
...also I remember our astonishment [ & amusement] at watching the neighbouring Ajja plough his fieldsclothed only in his langoti!...the 'anatimaar' dodda who never seemed to age ..we were always baale( a child ) to her...
...watching Neelayanna catch crabs with his bare hands...Oh, I could go on..........I should really post the pctrs we took this time with veenakka & Jiju...will do soon, promise...:-]....
Love ,Prutha

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I remember meeting Divya for the first time I think in ooru. She was (still is) the most lovable giggly loving kid. The four of us sisters would chat for hours near the cattle shed. I remember one summer that we spent with Vinay anna and Veena akka. Vinay anna spent most of his time reading inside. :-) I remember foraging for books in the atta and finding Jane Eyre, old Archie comics, really old classic Reader's Digest and devouring them. On those lone summers there, Ajja would go to Uppinangady( the main city ) and before he set off he’d ask Prutha and I what we want and we'd ask for paper, color pencils and crayons and he'd get that for us, plus ‘kalli bella’!
I remember sitting by dodda's 'kaddepel'( a utensil ) as she ground rice for the 'rotti' for the next morning's breakfast and talking to her about the big bang theory and she'd listen and ask the most intelligent questions. Then, the next morning I'd sometimes rather have breakfast at malla dodda's( elder granny's - Veenakka's granny ) kitchen if she was the one who made my fav 'addya'. When we were younger and malla ajja( elder ajja ) was alive, I'd get up at 5.30 a.m., and collect flowers for him for the pooja and sit with him.
As we'd play during the day, running around the house, he'd give away real loud farts. And I remember Prutha and I being the ones always being called out for making too much noise. :-) I think malla ajja was just used to us going there every summer. He tried teaching me some steps of yakshagana( Our grandfather was a very well known Yakshagana artist - The local news channel and newspaper telecast/published his death when he died ). Making a full 360 degree turn while in mid-air was what appealed to me the most about yakshagana. And when yella ajja( younger grandpa - my grandpa ) died, I remember clearly seeing Usha aunty emerge from the fields. She was crying as she was making the walk home( Veena - Prithvi, dont know why, but somehow, I can very well picturise this scene in my mind ).
Well, I have memories of almost every summer I spent there - sometimes just Prutha and I and sometimes with another set of cousins. With Nishit – Jarita, Ashwin-Akshata too. Yeah, ooru is definitely the most beautiful place I've seen. I miss the dodda's there for sure now. Though it isn’t the same, I am glad we can still visit the place.Love ya'll cousins,Prithvi

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