Once upon a time…

Every kid has it’s own world, and that world is complete in itself.. as we grow up we realize that world was never as we saw it then..

I was a shy kid, I preferred reading to running around  – explains my WELL ROUNDED personality;) I was over sensitive and extremely emotional for my age. It was pre-cable TV Zamaana , so I was always immersed into story books, or used to draw..I too had my own world, which was full of myths..

I making a list of some of those things:-

1. I firmly believed that ‘ Pardon’ is a surname.. everytime my dad used this word while talking on the telephone, I thought, he was talking to some Tamilian guy, like Vijayan, Raghavan etc!

2. I always thought that Non-vegetarians caught animals walking down the street and eat it  just like that!! Just the way we eat Carrot or Cucumber.. I know it  was very stupid of me to think like that, but it seriously never occurred to me till I was about nine, that they might be cooking it! Blame it on the books I used to read at that time.. LOL

3. I seriously believed that Indira Gandhi is Mahatma Gandhi’s daughter..I know most of the kids of my age thought the same then..

4. I don’t know from where this stupid thing came into my mind, but I believed that every person lives for 100 years..so I went around asking every one’s age, and did the calculation for them! Kids can be cruel sometimes…

5. If you’ve dropped a chocolate or something equally tempting on the floor by mistake, you can say ‘Ram’ and have it! Of course, this did not apply to regular and boring food items.. but it was applicable to chocolates and candies and peppermints.. how convenient!

6. Like many other kids of my age, I believed that in a movie film stars change clothes very swiftly for  song sequences, wherein they wear 3-4 different costumes!

7.I had seen this crap Ramsay horror movie.. in that movie the ghost – bhootni -in human disguise could not be seen in a mirror, she was visible otherwise..for several days after watching that movie, I was scared to look into mirror..and ghosts are scared of ‘Om’ or ‘Trishool’ so I used to draw  one of these symbols on my palm, just in case… hahaha!

These were some of the weird-childhood myths of mine..Did you have any?


I’m 32……

On 7th of May, I turned 32.. I still remember the dread that  I felt on my 30th birthday..(God,am I 30? Three- zero thirty?? How is that possible? Me n 30???)

The dreaded number which is pointing out that you are approaching to your worst nightmare, i.e. MIDDLE AGE:(

But this year, surprisingly I did not feel the pinch..I was just fine with it. And now that I am an AUNTY officially ( I have an 8 month old niece ) it seems ok to me. My ex-maid who was about 50 used to call me Aunty !

So I guess its ok to be 32. To live a different life every day. Yes! That’s how I live my life..I am all charged up and positive on some days. I turn philosophical on some and become an angry young woman on the other days.  My husband has spoiled me too much, and now I’m beyond repair! He puts up with my creative jhatkas , and has learnt to be calm when I’m very angry and upset. He has learnt to watch and appreciate good movies and good food. He knows that I almost turn into a ware-wolf if we do not go out on weekends. And there are many more things that make me feel good about my life..it keeps me always guessing!

SUM, it was nice talking to you last nite! You are a sweetheart yaar! I still can not think of you and Chandu as responsible-married and settled people. I still remember two pranksters I met the other nite!

So, all in all… I had fun when I turned 32…

Summer Vacation-6

That child pretended not to hear her mother, and turned her mother, and turned her head away in a different direction. This indifference infuriated her mother, who said, ‘What are you doing, girl, star-gazing?Didn’t you hear me asking you to hold the basket?’

With great reluctance the girl held out her hands to take the basket, but it slipped. The contents spilled out in all directions: first the rice, then the tamarind which had been concealed underneath.

‘Useless girl!’ Nani Amma rebuked her daughter and pulled her by hair. She sat down, hastily gathered the rice and the tamarind into the basket and left the place in a hurry. Her daughter followed, weeping copiously.

I knew that Muthassi had only given the rice to Nani Amma. It became clear to me that she had stolen the tamarind. I was furious with her. I thought stealing was really low, dishonorable. I decided I should not let her get away with it.

I ran after her and called out her name. She turned her head, but on seeing me continued walking faster. Her child hadn’t stopped weeping. Finally I caught up with her and questioned her. ‘Nani Amma, why did you steal tamarind? Is it right to other people’s property?’

‘I didn’t steal,’ Nani Amma denied stoutly. She continued walking. The red sand kicked up by her retreating feet swirled around the courtyard.

‘I am going to tell Muthassi,’ I said. ‘You shouldn’t steal things. Don’t come to this house again. Your are just a petty theif.’

That stopped Nani Amma. She held out the basket to me and said in a huff, ‘Take it. Take back your precious rice and tamarind. I don’t want anything from you.”

I was dumbstruck. I extended my hands to take the basket, like a lifeless wooden puppet. Nani Amma picked up her daughter and made to walk off.Then came her parting shot.

‘We are poor people, child.’ Her voice shook as she said,’And you- you are the rich.’

I left the basket on the ground and ran back. I felt like weeping. I felt – as I had never done before in my life – that I had somehow committed a grave sin. I was too shaken to mention the incident to Muthassi. What happened to that basket? Did anyone pick it up? Did Nani Amma herself come back for it? I wanted to know nothing about it.

It was time for me to go to Calcutta. When we reached Trichur railway station, Sankunni Nayar said pompously, ‘The train is due to arrive in precisely half an hour and two minutes. Velayudha Menon would have boarded the train at Cochin. The first-class coach will come in at the other end of the platform and the third-class will be at this end.’

‘Will you please stop bleating, Sanakunni Nayar,’ Muthassi said, cuttingly.

‘I am quite familiar with all these details. This is not the first time I have come to Trichur railway station.’

Muthassi got out of the car, gave an eight- anna coin to the taxi driver and said,’ It is the child’s gift to you.’ The driver put the coin into his pocket with a smile and saluted me.

Muthassi wore a gold-bordered mundu and veshti and had a gold tulasi mala  around her neck. She looked regal and the people at the railway station made way for her in a respectful manner.

The clerk at the platform ticket counter asked her,’ So the child is going back after her vacation?’

Muthassi did not deign to answer. She had an air of aloofness which she reserved for strangers. She held on to my hand, crossed the revolving door and entered the station platform.

Random Bakwaas…


  1. I have put on lots on weight..it’s nothing new, but I can’t get into my favorite kurta anymore… :(((
  2. Alphonso mangoes that we got from the market, look like perfect mangoes that we see in advertisements – but they taste like boiled Singhada – i.e. -100% tasteless !- Thanks to all that chemicals used for ripening them before time.
  3. I am not getting proper sleep these days.. 😦 feel lousy and sluggish in the morning.
  4. I have got nothing new to read- I’ve finished -re-re-re-reading ‘God Of Small Things’  and now its almost by-heart to me.
  5. I don’t like this mood, it’s so negative, I feel like bashing myself to sound like this…boring and gloomy:(


  1. I have been watching lots of good movies on DVD these days, last night I watched ‘ RAIN MAN’ and loved it!
  2. P has been very busy these days. I think, he will make it up to me by taking me to Mantri Square.. well, I just love exploring malls..even when I do not want to buy anything, I just love walking around 🙂
  3. I am dieing to read Twilight series.. the movie was good, and I think the book will be better!
  4. P has taken a fancy for Sprouts and he will eat nothing but Sprouted moong, chana etc. at night.. that makes me very happy coz I don’t have to cook at night 😉 I can survive on morning left-overs!
  5. I think life is not that bad afterall..hehe 😉


With the increasing heat in Bangalore, I think my brain is melting away… I am getting EXXXTREMELY BORED and can not think of anything to do right now..its 11.12 pm to be precise, and P’s not in town 😦 he  was supposed to come back by tomorrow morning, but his work got delayed and he will be coming back only on Wednesday…

I sit in front of the laptop, start punching the keyboard…and then when I am halfway thru, I suddenly loose interest and I leave it at that.. this is happening very often. I keep blog hopping, trying to find something new happening to the others, but it feels as though all words have drained out of our lives all of a sudden.. we all have become boring adults all of a sudden!

Oh God.. I am in my worst mood right now and I hope if at all one of my friends read this crap..they are going to forgive me for boring them to death.

I’ve  become extremely moody in summer..that too when I do not get to eat Hapoos Mango, when I dont get to visit Mumbai..and I am not good with power cuts…I just HATE them.. I HATE this heat..I could have never imagined that Bangalore would be this HOT….grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr……

Guys, I am so sorry for writing all this crap.. BTW, did anybody notice the latest theme of my blog?

HUMANE AWARD..Thanks a lot :)


Thanks a LOT Sum… I feel honored 🙂

“The Humane Award honours certain bloggers who express kindness, mercy, caring and compassion for others, marked by an emphasis on humanistic values and concerns. Their blogs are also amazing and are tastefully done on a daily basis.” – copied from Sum’s Arena

Thanks a LOT again..

Summer Vacation-5

At this, Achutan removed his bidi from his mouth and put it away by the fireplace. He continued earnestly, ‘Not merely in this house. In the entire village, there isn’t a single soul whom Achutan loves as much as he loves you. Are aware of that child?’

I shook my head, meaning that I didn’t know. Wanting to change the subject, I asked him,’ Where were you born, Achutan?’

‘Achutan’s birth place! It’s nowhere nearby. It is a place called Perindri, you must have heard of it. Oh Dear, I can’t afford to stay here forever indulging in small talk with you. I mustn’t forget those greedy women waiting in the Tekkini. I have to serve that set of gossips their coffee and snacks, or else your Muthassi will kill me.’

‘Achutan, you don’t like those women, do you?’ I asked in a lowered voice.

‘No, I can’t stand the very sight of them. I don’t like women who go and gossip from one house to another.’

He put four vadas on a plate and gave it to me.  ‘By the time you finish eating those vadas your milk will be ready.’

Even the vadas smelt of Achutan’s bidis. But somehow I didn’t have heart to scold him.

At noon Muthassi sat on verandah, reading excerpts from the Ramayana. She used a pair of broken spectacles, holding them to her nose with her left hand.

I was very sleepy,so I stretched myself out on the bare tiled floor. I could see the shy through the railings of verandah: a glistening, silvery expanse.

‘Muthassi,’ I called out.

‘Mm?’ She stopped her reading and turned to me.

‘Will you be unhappy when I leave?’


‘Terribly unhappy?’

‘Why should I be terribly unhappy, Ammu? You’ll come again next year, won’t you?’

‘But…if you die meanwhile…’

Muthassi brushed aside my fears with a laugh.

‘ I won’t die so soon, Ammu. I will live long enough to see you married and have children. Isn’t that enough?’

‘Muthassi, please tell me. Who will I marry?’

‘Who knows!’ Muthassi turned her gaze to the sky. ‘I don’t know. Only god knows.’

It was very comforting to put my head on the Muthassi’s lap. Gradually my eyes closed. I could hear the humming of a bumble bee from some part of the verandah. Muthassi explained, ‘ The bumble bee is building its nest.’

Very much later, I work up to find Muthassi was not there. I was lying on a woven grass mat with a pillow under my head. Where had Muthassi disappeared? I had strange sensation of having slept for years together, during which time Muthassi had died. I sat up, startled. The bumble bee was still humming.

‘Muthassi,’ I called out.

From somewhere below came Muthassi’s answer to my call. I got up, went slowly down the stairs and reached Tekkini. Nani Amma who earned her livelihood by pounding rice was there with her five-year-old daughter. As soon as the little girl saw me, she hid her face with one end of her mother’s mundu.

Muthassi was sitting by the inner courtyard,  making cotton wicks for the oil lamp. She had stretched her legs out on a bamboo mat and was putting away cotton wicks, one by one, into a biscuit tin.

‘Nani, do you think I can go on having avil made just to provide you with a job? The avil you pounded last time is not yet finished. I know you have lot of money worries, but I have no way of helping you if you come to me every other day with your requests. ‘

Nani Amma bowed her head. She stroked her daughter’s hair and smiled. I was fascinated by the iron ring she wore on her right hand, a ring with intricate work on it. She wore a shabby mundu and torn blouse. And yet, I thought, she was lucky to be wearing such unusual ring.

I went near them to take a closer look at the child. She came upto my shoulders, and was dark skinned – so dark that it was difficult to make out here  the roots of her hair started. I would call that colour the very essence of black.  The only clothing she had on was a skirt with red spots. There was a black knotted thread around her neck.

I asked her, ‘ What is your name?’ She did not reply, but hid her face and most of her body behind Nani Amma’s mundu.

Nani Amma answered, ‘Amini- that’s her name.’

Now Muthassi asked, ‘ How old is the girl Nani?’

‘She was born when that terrible storm stuck our village;’ Nani Amma said dramatically. Everyone was in a hurry to leave their houses with their beds and their cooking vessels. Only I remained, unable to get up from where I was lying. I told myself, if I am destined to die like this, then let me die.’

‘But the fact is,’Muthassi interjected jokingly, ‘that you didn’t die. That means your time hadn’t come, Nani.’

Putting away all the cotton wicks in the tin, Muthassi stood up. ‘Come, Nani,come to the Vedakkini. Let me give the little girl something to eat, maybe the dosas left over from breakfast.’

The Vedakkini, as I remember it, it was a dark room with a jackfruit in one corner, kept there for ripening, along with a basket of tamarind.

‘Sit down,’ Muthassi said to Nani Amma. Nani Amma whispered softly into child’s ears. She wiped the floor by brushing it with her bare feet, took the mundu from her shoulders, spread it on floor and sat on it. The child stood behind her, only her shining eyes visible in the darkness. It seemed to me there was no child,  only those eyes suspended in the darkness.

I went to the kitchen in search of Muthassi. She was busy putting out pieces of dosa on a plantain leaf. The dosas were stale, having been left in the open, on the window-still, since morning.

‘Are you going to give those pieces of dosa to that child?’ I asked Muthassi.

She nodded.

‘Haven’t they been left in the open for rather a long time? I saw flies hovering there. Don’t you think the child might fall ill if she eats them?’

Muthassi hesitated for a moment. Then she said with a laugh, ‘All right, Ammu, I won’t given them to her. What about the snacks that were prepared this afternoon? Are you happy now?’

Half an hour later, I saw Nani Amma had food and tea. She was carrying a small basket containing the rice Muthassi had given to her. She said to her child,’Amini, just hold his basket for a moment. Let me tie my mundu properly.’

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries