Just whatever..

I have a private life and a very private mind. And an even more private home!

My doors are closed to random strangers. People come into my house only through invitation. Most of the events in my life are ‘need to know’ to general, public acquaintances. But who are close to my heart, who can understand me, are always welcome.

Nevertheless, I have let a tiny window from my living room open. I have it thrown open more for convenience than for anything else. Through that I can look at the world below, and the world can look back in. But their view is very limited unlike mine. And the few snippets that I get to see are all, I feel, very detailed and so publicly personal. I wonder at that, that how some people can bare all and let unknown folks know so much about them; intentionally or otherwise; does harm or not. I’m seldom nosy. I rarely am interested in affairs of other people, unless I’m personally informed. I sit by my window just to pass time seeing the world go by. But sometimes even insignificant things make you wonder, and here’s one thing thats been frying my brain for a few days.

People come and go in the walks of life. So my view is deliberately different every time I chance to look at it. By habit, I can see some patterns too. Some come, talk, and talk less and less. Some come, talk, and continue talking. Some come, talk marvel, and then leave forever. Some come, marvel, talk much, leave and come back to talk more. I can understand the fist category where I think I can fit myself into, when viewed from any other open window. But I have never understood the rest of them. Especially the last!

It rarely happens. It breaks the pattern (either you leave or you stay). It’s a huge distraction. It creates a sort of an atmosphere where they were seemingly missed. It’s difficult to not be interested in what they have to say, now that they have abstained and are back with more vigor. Relevance or the lack thereof stops to matter. Left to the chance that they might say something interesting gives a hope and reason for the doors to remain open. That and prior inclinations.

They completely poach your heart with all their talks and laughs and their silliness. They make you believe that that’s their life. Their happy smiles make you want to see more. They make you jealous that you are not part of it. Their popularity makes you wonder why your restrict yourselves. Unintentional obsession develops.

They fry your head. You make an image of what they are based on what they show you. You try and get yourselves convinced that is what is true and perfect. You will think you know everything that’s happening with them. You get angry when you think others can also get a glimpse of what they show. Confusion reigns!

I say, Idiot Poacher, why need to come back?

Disclaimer: Italics from Wild Child.

A beautiful way to ask...

Putham pudhu malarae, en aasai sollava?
Pothi vaithu maraithen, en bashai sollava ?
Idhayam thirandhu ketkiren, ennadhaan tharuvai paarkiren
Nenjukkullae ennanamo ninaithen,
Nitham nitham karpanaigal valarthen, thavithen

Sella kili ennai kulipika vendum,
Sellai thalaipil thuvatida vendum
Kallu silai poola nee nirka vendum
Kangal paarthu thalai vaara vendum
Nee vandhu elai pooda vendum
Naan vandhu parimaara vendum
En imai un vizhi mooda vendum
Iruvarum oru suram paada vendum
Unnil ennai thedavendum

Kanni undhan madi saaya vendum
Kamban varigal nee solla vendum
Unnai katti kondu thoonga vendum
Undhan viral thalai koodida vendum
Kaioodu idham kaana vendum
Kanneeril kulir kaaya vendum
Udatukum udatukum dhooram vendum
Uyirukul uyir sendru seera vendum
Thaayai saeyai maara vendum

No Dues.

Routine is effectively disturbed. No predictability about tomorrow.

And that is scary.

The calendar is empty. Table ornaments are packed to be taken home. Passes and accesses are surrendered, stamped and cleared - ‘No Dues’. Farewell speeches are given. Advices are taken. Lunch and gifts exchanged. Clichéd mails are sent out. A final goodbye, a last sweeping look and I will be done. Relieved of all responsibilities!

And I’m lost. Burdened with doubts and fear!

May be I’m not recognizing the randomness of my life in its true spirit. The sense of suspense and variety is what many ache for in their normal, scheduled and so according to them a boring life. I did too. When day after day, the same rhythm, the same duties, the same monotony wore me down. Now that I have choice, variety and suspense of the unknown tomorrow, instead of being thrilled I’m suddenly feeling as if I have no stability; that I have no direction, no balance. There seems no method in the madness. I guess the residual feelings for the accustomed way of life is getting in the way and disturbing me. Acknowledged! But I should also be realizing the value of the change, the range of other opportunities and such, for the gift that it is. Yes. I should and I’m going to try.

At first dreams seem impossible, then improbable, then inevitable. So is change illa?

Next, I have all the time in the world. I have no idea what I’m going to do with it.

I think the first thing I’m going to put the “all the time in the world” to use is to list the things that I’m going to miss.

• First and foremost, coffee. Hot and refreshing all around the clock. Just have to ask, one kaapi.

• Second most important thing, the hour long drive. It’s an effective alone time. Enake enaka. There is something alluring in the dull and monotonous almost thalatugira motion of the vehicle, the warm air and noise blowing in from the rolled down windows, the view zooming past, random thoughts and mindless FM music.

• Friends. Just ping or buzz and you can see them. They are there to pick you up when things are rough. Sometimes you don’t even have to ask. They’ll know.

• Companionship. I’m listing this as a separate thing because it means so much to me. The ups and down are treated alike, things are taken in the passing in a somewhat ‘who cares’ detached sense etc...All good things.

• Special-ness of weekend. The anticipation starts first thing on Monday mornings. AH! The sweet relief of weekends.

• Breakfast. That’s one thing that’s really going to get cut now that I have no routine.

• Identity. In the current society, when what I do amounts to who I’m, this serves as my identity, a label to my success. Now I’m going to ‘just be a....’

• Dependability. It’s a common thing in my household to hear me say, ‘Let me check with my office folks on this. At least one of them might have an idea’, for just about anything from tax debates to baby colic’s.

• Tabs on the new fashion. Won’t elaborate!!

• Diversion. Actually it works either ways. From domestics to there and from there to domestics. If one gets too much I can escape into the other. Time apart to puts things in perspective. Thank God for days and nights and work and play.

• Adjusting temperaments. It’s actually a good thing, a survival thing. The chance to meet and work alongside people of different personalities helps you to become a good judge of character. Helps and necessitates keeping temper (for that, any emotion) in check. (And my Mother’s favorite ‘Anga solara vellaiya mugam sulikaama seiyara, inga yean edhirkara?’ sometimes makes sense, and sometimes makes me want to say ‘Well I have no choice there. Here at least you hear of it’. Somehow I never tell her that. Why to destroy her illusion that I’m adangifying somewhere at least?)

• General public awareness. I think that’s common to every place with lots of people in scene.

• Developing new interests. With avenues and interested folks available, this is sure significant thing. I have personally benefited significantly from this.

There are of course other blahs, like career, growth, financial independence, woman freedom, ‘wasting your education’. All those aside, these are the humble things that I’m going to miss a lot.

That’s all I can think of. If you can come up with anything besides ‘Office gossip’ please leave a message/comment.

So whatever, it’s a major change tomorrow. Hope indha naal iniya naalaga iruka and days that follow too.

Can you feel the undertones?

There is a ‘She’. Of course, there has to be one. Then wouldn’t there be a ‘He’. You bet!

So let’s drop in and then drop our eaves in the middle of their conversation that goes,
***

He looked at her accusingly and said, ‘Just asking. Huh! Too many cross questions.’

She replied mockingly, ‘I’m getting better at this. I learned it from the Master’

‘Now, who is that? If you mean me, I don’t evade’ he answered smiling.

‘If that’s not what you do, then we need a new word to describe what you are doing’ she said.

‘Never. I will never agree. Tell me one instance where I have evaded’ he argued.

She sighed. ‘This counts as one! So anyways… are you going to tell me or not?’ she asked.

‘What do you want me to tell?’ he asked slightly belligerent.

She narrowed her eyes and looked at him sharply and said ‘You know what I’m asking and you know that I won’t let you have any peace unless you answer me. So tell me you will change? Tell me you will at least make an effort to change.’

‘You know what I’m going to say’ he stalled. When she didn’t bother to lower her gaze, he tried again and said, ‘I don’t have much choice now. It’s too late’.

She didn’t seem to relent, ‘Don’t you want to change? Do you like it?’

He changed tactics and continued tauntingly, ‘I won’t (stop) until I’m asked to. I really don’t see a reason why I need to.’

‘Now who is going to ask you that?’ she asked in an indignant voice.

‘Wouldn’t you?’ he teased.

She threw him a dirty look and said, ‘I would. I have. I am.’

‘I thought you didn’t mean it’ he smirked.

She pleaded ‘Oh! But I do. I mean it. Please, for my sake? Try?’

He smiled more broadly, ‘Why?’

‘How can you justify the torture the body and mind is put through?’ she asked.

‘Maybe it’s not torture, maybe its pleasure’ he answered mischievously.

‘I don’t know…It’s all very wrong’ she concluded irritated.

He just winked at her, smiling broadly ‘How?’

She said imploringly ‘You seem to take odd pleasure in making me plead.’

‘Yen mayakatha theethu vechu manichirumaaaa’ he sang, waving his arms wide open.

'Don't'. She rolled her eyes and hissed ‘Little seriousness, please?’

Though evidently enjoying, he sobered a little and replied, ‘Very much. There is really no need to change. It’s not taboo still. In all fairness, you know, it has become more common than you think and it’s not such a big deal.’ to which she immediately said, ‘It is a big deal. It’s illegal, unethical and probably dangerous. It’s against nature’.

He pretended to cross off on his fingers ‘It’s not illegal when you are an adult, consenting and knowing. It’s not dangerous, when it’s done in the way it’s supposed to be done. Unethical says who?’

She noticed that he had ignored that last part of her argument but she didn’t want to press. She thought for a moment and said, ‘I don’t know. I feel bad about it.’

‘From ‘very wrong’ to ‘feels bad’, quite a drastic change there!’ he teased again.

She immediately replied, ‘No I still feel its all wrong. And it does feel bad’

He was quiet for a second and then continued, ‘So explain it to me. Why do you think it is wrong? Is it because of some stupid social construct? Morality? Why would you not accept me and my ways if that’s my chosen path, preference, choice or however the hell you want to call it? Wouldn’t you try to understand that maybe I do what I do because I may have no other option? Do you have any idea of how much pain and regret I might carry?’

Evidently confused at the sudden first-person usage, she said ‘Err… you as in ‘you’?’

‘Hypothetically speaking!’ he finished with a smile.

She considered the many questions and deciding to play along, replied, ‘First of, you say you are okay with all this and that you knowingly chose this. But would you be so cool when it happens to someone else you love. Someone who has a choice and yet they are like this? Would you embrace them into this way of life? Secondly, like you ask, I will try to understand your situation. I will. Let’s say, even pretend that, I’m okay with what you do. That’s not much, is it? I’m just one person. You need to realize that the society is not entirely made of people like me.’ She continued in a slightly higher tone to cut across his intent to interrupt ‘Don’t tell me you don’t care about what the society thinks. You care. At least that much I know for sure. You care enough to want their approval of your normality. You care enough to be low-key of what you do. You want them to see you beyond the aberration.’

He harshly interjected ‘Then you don’t know anything’.

She looked offended but took advantage of momentary silence and continued, ‘No, I know and understand more. Ok, leave aside society. You have a responsibility. To yourself, to your body, to your family and friends who care about your well being; you are inducing an imbalance and unnaturalness into your life and into the others. So whatever you say, however you argue, I feel it is wrong. Don’t say you are careful and controlled. Once or twice are as bad as any number. Whatever pain and agony you may face in life, or however heart-wrenching a flash-back you may have, doesn’t justify the need. I wouldn’t hear of it. If that’s the last thing I do, I will definitely do something to stop you from going down that path and destroying your life over it.

He hissed ‘Don’t you think I know all that. Don’t you think that I have argued with myself with all of what you just said?’

She did not reply. All the “I” usage was confusing. Though hypothetical, it was difficult, to pointedly say ‘you’. After few minutes, their orders were delivered and they finished eating in near silence, broaching only on less controversial and almost harmless topics. When they had paid their bills and stepped outside into the rainy street, he said, ‘Ok. I was thinking of what you said in there. I think I see your point.’

She smiled a little and waited for him to continue. ‘Yes! All that you said are true. I know too, that drugs are wrong. Society or morality or ethics or unnaturalness aside, it is just plain stupid and unnecessary. But I designed my character to be an addict to spin out lots of stories around that. It has nothing to do with me. I promise! I'm not even in the slightest inclined toward it. But as I said before, now it’s too late to change it. I’m almost close to completion.’

She shook her head. ‘I won’t have drugs and substance abuse in your book. I don't want it in the way you have it. You are almost glorifying its use and extolling its effect. But as a writer of your caliber, you are morally obligated to some extent without sacrificing your literary license. People read your books. You have a say, you have some influence. Some people read books for fun and some read too much into it. If your character should perform some extra ordinary feet after getting high, if he comes across as a “cool dude” just because he snorts, someone might want to do that. You shouldn’t impart that idea on people, intentionally or otherwise. I wouldn’t want anyone to read your book and comment on it. I wouldn’t be able to bear that kind of criticism of you. You are way too important to me for me to just stand aside and to let you be judged harshly, if I can help it.’

She faltered. She has said too much. And before he could react she continued, ‘You know what I mean… what I’m trying to say is… you know… I mean….’

He simply said ‘I know what you mean. I always do’

***

Looks like he is saying too much too!

Did he promise to change the story? Did he really? Was she okay with the change?

What happened to the two of them?

All this we couldn’t find. The rain’s too loud.

But were you confused as we were in the middle of all the argument?


P.S: ‘Usure pogudhey’ is a ‘Whattya song’ category. The lyrics, the tune, Karthick’s exceptionally seductive voice when he sings that line – Sweetness!

Life is really unfair.

How else can I see these?

• When I enter the house my baby looks beyond me to check if my father is behind me and then run into his open arms ignoring mine

• That my baby shouts gleefully ‘Appa appa’ when she sees Surya on TV or a magazine cover

• That she says ‘Thaaatha’ more than she says any other word

• That she wants to sleep in her ‘Paataa’s’ lap every other afternoon

• Saves her special dance for her ‘Chitha’

• That she finds my make-up skills inadequate and dabs her face with more powder on her own

• That she sends more SMS than me

• That she is a ‘Dahling’ and ‘Vaalu’ at the same time to everyone

• That she thinks her body and her dress are the place for art

• That she cries and brings the house down on being fed but thinks chalks and my lipstick are okay foods

• When I’m rushing to leave for work, her insane tantrum to comb my hair

• That she thinks that my washed and ironed dupatta is a prop for playing ‘bhuuu’

• Her demands at midnight to hear ‘Yellow….yellow’ rhyme and train sounds or to wear her ‘Spiderman’ shoe inside house for dancing.

• That my mother most of the time starts to call my baby but ends up calling out her younger son's name due to long habit (sometimes even I do this)

Sigh!

But who cares about these things when you are holding your life in your hands?

I don’t even remember all this when the baby calls out “Ammei” from across the room and come running to me when she is scared of ‘rummmbu’ (ant), happy because her favorite song is on TV, cranky, hungry, in ‘doo’ mode with someone, to get me a unasked sombhu full of water with everyone else chasing her, to do the pithukuli dance routines, to keep safe her stolen ‘mammam’s, to show and complain about her ‘vooa’, to play any weird laada-mooda games of our own invention or just suma. When I have her snuggly tucked on my chest and hear her slow breathing and have her milky sweet breath on my neck and face, I feel safe. I feel life to be so unfair in an entirely different way. Can you understand that?

To quote another blogger “A day as a mother is worth a million as a rock star”.

I agree.Touch wood!

Last weekend…

Yes. This is the last ‘real’ weekend for the current season.

Here after all days are going to be working days!

Another end!

For another new beginning? Hopefully so!

In my every breath there is you.

Of course, you would know this by no means can be an exhaustive list, but these are the few that popped into my mind as I started typing this.

• My Mom’s “Drink your coffee hot. Would probably help relieve your headaches”, every time when my morning coffee goes cold untouched.

• AJB’s “You would be a fool to not ask for help when you need or to not accept it when you are given” every time when I’m shy and apprehensive to seek help when I’m desperately needing it.

• My Father’s “This too shall pass” every time when I feel down and depressed or even too happy.

• Evangeline’s “My opinions are not that important that I need to share them all the time” every time when I have no choice but to bite my tongue to hold back any retort or argument.

• Mrs. Hr’s simple “Hang on!” every time when I … never mind!

• MiRaman’s “Perception of truth is the only truth now” every time when I want to give a shout out, thann nilai vilakkam, and to set records straight.

• Aparna’s timely and crucial baby advice, every time I cradle my baby in my arms without hurting my back and stitches.

• My Bro’s “You think they too taking about us” every time when I liberally comment on/about everyone and then want a ladder down my ego.

• Kotti’s “Remember how you started and where you came from” every time when I want to stay in touch with my roots.

• An Id... friend’s "Now your Home is where your ....n is" every time when I waver in my priorities between different places and people.

• One of my cousin’s “You think you know everything, but you don’t know anything really” every time when I want to humble down.

• Draiker’s “You set a high standard” every time when I think I deserve to be praised, irrespective of whether I receive the compliments or not.

• My 6th grade tamizh teacher’s “ngap pol valai” advice every time when I need the motivation to adjust or adapt.

• My grandma’s kind yet strict “kozhandai than mukkiyam… adhuku aprom than mathadellam” every time when I’m torn between watching a movie and playing pretend for the 100th time of that day.

• My FIL’s "Babies outgrow the need for us very soon. You will miss it before you fully realize the sweetness" every time when I'm dealing with late-night unreasonable clingings or thooki demands.

• A cousin's status and belief "Life is 10% of what happens to me, and 90% of how I react to it"

• A Haryani Loki’s strangely kind act of placing his overcoat as a cushion in my head/ back rest of my seat, in the dirty, smelly bus traveling in that sorry excuse of a road of the Pilani-Delhi route, every time when my head bumps on my seat.

• My grandfather’s quirky folklore saying “All right nu sonnanam English kaaran. Adhan sari nu sonnanam Thamizh kaaran” every time when I just want to agree to something just to shut the other person up.

• My BIL’s “If someone is doing something for you, whether you’ve asked them or not, let them be” every time when I want to comment or correct something someone is doing for my sake.

• ....'s “You look nice, no matter what” every time when I want reassurance about my looks.

• Sister Agneta’s “If you want, you can get all that. Seek unto God” every time when I really need Super help to take a step forward.

• My own quote and my search "Going forward is a direction. Being happy where you are, with what you have is the destination"

Many such significant words, many other trivial actions… but they all are staying with me for a reason. The context of the actual conversation is long forgotten, but some words you have said, I still remember, because, to me, it’s not so much what’s said, just not what’s done, but everything to do with how it makes me feel.

And these made me feel better. You made me feel good. You gave me a sense of direction. You gave me hope. Sometimes you gave me all. Sometimes you gave me one, the one I needed the most. You have made me a better person.

So my dears, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know it’s such an incomplete and deficient word. But that’s all I have got.