Aug 13, 2011
Good news! I have reacquired the great Indian ambivalent head-bobbing that accompanies the toothy grin. This amazing gesture confirms nothing and conveys no information. But it is the most handy weapon in any conversation. I have been employing it successfully in numerous conversations in which my awareness about someone's relative in 'Who-stun' and 'Dull-ass' in 'Tech-sauce' is questioned. Earlier my bewilderment at being mistaken for Google would bring forth further information from the questioners. Information that has nothing to do with any helpful specifics of their relatives' location in those cities but has to do with their lineage in Kerala.
For example:
Host: "Shibu avideya...alle?" (our shibu is there...right?)
Hostess: "Oh thanne...in whoostun" (O Yes, in Houston)
Host: "Ariyamo?" (Do you know him?)
Me: (gulps)
Host: "Nammude Bhaskaran Pillaiyude mone...oh Shibu...oh" (Our Bhaskaran Pillai's son...yes Shibu...yes)
Me: (hair loss from eyebrows happens)
Hostess: (rather helpfully) "Vattiyoorkavilulla...oh avan matte Somasekharan Nairude mole alle kettiyathu...electricity boardil undayiruna.... oh arinjoode?" (The one from Vattiyoorkavu....yes, he married that other Somasekharan Nair's daughter...the one who used to work in the electricity board....yes, you don't know?")
Me: (sweat is induced as the mention of electricity board makes me aware of the static, dust covered ceiling fan)
Host: "Chimayayil padichathu...avante achan ivalde ammavante nathoonte chettanayittu varum....ivide water authorityil jyoli undayirunna....avaru sherikum kuttumbam Kottayathanu." (He studied in Chinmaya mission school here. His father (looking at his wife) is her maternal uncle's sister-in-law's cousin. Used to work for the Water Authority. Their family is originally from Kottayam.)
Me: (blue screen of death)
Host and hostess look disapprovingly at Amma. Surely I have been up to some 'uncultured' activity in America if I didn't know Shibu, the one from Vattiyoorkavu, the one who married Somasekharan Nair's daughter, the one who had retired from Electricity Board (state-owned power corporation).
Now with the great head-bobbing, I slay such conversations right at their source, before they can begin to breathe fire.
Yes, my head-bobbing conveys, I know any Shibu, Baiju, Biju, Ranjith or Manu or Vinu who is married to any random retired Board-member Nair's daughter, don't I? No? Yes?
The head-bobbing with the grin is is the ultimate solution. It is 42. It is like a massive, slow, garbage dispenser in which all hope for meaning meet a crushing death. May be this is what the Puranas (myths and legends) talk about as the cosmic churning of the celestial ocean in the hope of elixir. It is an eternal hope in which, as with all other things Indian, no sense of accountability is ever ascribed.
Talking of accountability, the astrologer gang who had conducted the divination has precribed a long list of rituals to be conducted to ward off all the bad karma hanging around the humungus treasure recently discovered at the Padmanabha temple. 10,000 of one type of homam (fire-sacrifice), 24,000 of another type of yajnam (again fire sacrifice), donations to Brahmins etc. No prices for guessing which gang is supposed to conduct all these sacrifices and collect the handsome fees and donations. I admire this bunch. P.T. Barnum pales in comparison to what these crooks have pulled off for thousands of years here!
"After losing fat Obese people (with a capital o) are the MOST BEAUTIFUL ONES" proclaims the ad for an ayurvedic abs clinic. The services offered as part of the 'slimming programmes' are weight loss, tummy trimming (sounds as casual as a haircut), inch loss (I don't think this is the opposite of the penis enlargement email scams), postural management (worthy of an MBA course surely), arm and breast firming (man-boobs are not specified) and figure correction (something politicians and administrators here are experts in).
Got myself a head and face Ayurvedic oil massage this morning. If I had known these were this good, I would have come to India more often. There were two kinds of oil. Fresh homemade coconut oil for the face and some ayurvedic concoction that had amla, red bean, basil and other ingredients for the head. Before the massage started there was a ritual. Nothing can start without a ritual, can it? This involved placing a little oil in some 'cardinal' locations of the body. After placement in the center of the palms and the feet and behind both ears, all of sudden I was asked to lift my t-shirt so that the ritual drop can be put on my belly button. For a moment, I felt like a Telugu movie heroine. Though there was no happy ending, I was blissful at the end of the 20 minute affair. But I am afraid all the renewed blood flow into the head could cause inch loss!
Amma showed me the receipt for the wedding hall decorations order. Apparently, there is a shortage of flowers coming from Tamil Nadu. The rates were scorchingly high but decorations are a must. It looked like she wasn't expecting such a big amount. I sensed blood and struck, "Weddings are the only big splurge in Indian life. There is no long term investment for a life time of savings. The society markets the wedding as a much desirable event. Everyone falls for it and then are left holding a baby in a year. " That final statement was made to evoke a specific memory. Last evening we had met two of my friends, much younger to me, who lived the colony, with a forlorn expression holding their babies, as stentorian voices of their wives beckoned from inside the house. By stern voices I mean something that is heading in the direction of Big Bang Theory's Howard's mom and will get there in a few years time.
"True," Amma said planting a reflective stare at the ceiling. Progress, I thought.
Had to miss out on the live telecast of the Nehru trophy snakeboat race because some wedding shopping needed to be done. At the tailor's shop, Amma said it would take just a minute, so I hadn't carried any reading material. By the time she came out 45 minutes later, I had received a quick tutorial about the operation of the Cell taxi service in the city from the driver: the driver's wages, fare rates, types of cars, competing services and more!
Two 'kasavu mundu' (gold bordered dhotis) were bought for me and Achan for the wedding. One more temple visit. The Siva temple at Sreekanteswaram. Due to two newly opened silk and gold showrooms, traffic on the street to the temple was fully jammed. Traffic policemen were trying to squeeze the vehicles through in between the parked ones. On top of that more construction was going on. The construction workers were clearly non-Malayalis. "Malayalis charge 550 per day. They work for 350." explained the taxi driver. Most of these workers are from Nepal and Bengal.
This temple had four different varieties of Banyan/Peepal trees at its four corners. There is a specific warning against perambulating the 'Arasu' tree after 6pm. I hope to find out the ancient Indian wisdom behind that from some devout Hindu soon. At the entrance of the temple, there is a signboard that says that entrance is restricted only to those who "profess" Hindusim. "Profess" seems much more serious than 'believe', 'practise' and 'follow'. Though I am no professor, I went inside!
At the traffic signal, more education from the driver. He had parked the car very much forward into the intersection while waiting for the signal. The policeman near by started shouting at him. I was getting uncomfortable but our driver completely, totally ignored him! As the signal changed and we moved, he said, "These are 'coolie police', look at his collar, it says KHG. They are just ex-military men on temperory wages not real Kerala Police!" Abbreviations and Collars, rather lack thereof, can make an individual invisible and inaudible!
Remember how Will Smith explains the good night kiss at the end of a date to Kevin James in the movie Hitch? You go quarter of the way, then she comes forward, then you move in a little more and so on. This is pretty much how traffic operates here at intersections and round-abouts. You move in, the other guy moves his vehicle in. Then you aggressively move some more. There is no kiss at the end though. The outcome is that the less aggressive one, swiftly, withdraws and turns away. Exactly like what the heroines here still do in 'family' movies.
A short long distance trip for some more invitations is scheduled for tomorrow. I will carry the camera and take some snaps in the villages.
Youngsters have appeared on the roadside this evening selling replicas of the national flag. The Raj Bhavan, governor's residence, has been illuminated. Independence Day spirit is in the air. The Electricity Board and Water Authority have been around since independence. But they seem to have only managed to get the daughters of Somashekharan Nairs married off. Irritatingly erratic power supply plagues even after over six decades of democratic freedom!
ps: The tailor remarked about my prospective marriage!
Good news! I have reacquired the great Indian ambivalent head-bobbing that accompanies the toothy grin. This amazing gesture confirms nothing and conveys no information. But it is the most handy weapon in any conversation. I have been employing it successfully in numerous conversations in which my awareness about someone's relative in 'Who-stun' and 'Dull-ass' in 'Tech-sauce' is questioned. Earlier my bewilderment at being mistaken for Google would bring forth further information from the questioners. Information that has nothing to do with any helpful specifics of their relatives' location in those cities but has to do with their lineage in Kerala.
For example:
Host: "Shibu avideya...alle?" (our shibu is there...right?)
Hostess: "Oh thanne...in whoostun" (O Yes, in Houston)
Host: "Ariyamo?" (Do you know him?)
Me: (gulps)
Host: "Nammude Bhaskaran Pillaiyude mone...oh Shibu...oh" (Our Bhaskaran Pillai's son...yes Shibu...yes)
Me: (hair loss from eyebrows happens)
Hostess: (rather helpfully) "Vattiyoorkavilulla...oh avan matte Somasekharan Nairude mole alle kettiyathu...electricity boardil undayiruna.... oh arinjoode?" (The one from Vattiyoorkavu....yes, he married that other Somasekharan Nair's daughter...the one who used to work in the electricity board....yes, you don't know?")
Me: (sweat is induced as the mention of electricity board makes me aware of the static, dust covered ceiling fan)
Host: "Chimayayil padichathu...avante achan ivalde ammavante nathoonte chettanayittu varum....ivide water authorityil jyoli undayirunna....avaru sherikum kuttumbam Kottayathanu." (He studied in Chinmaya mission school here. His father (looking at his wife) is her maternal uncle's sister-in-law's cousin. Used to work for the Water Authority. Their family is originally from Kottayam.)
Me: (blue screen of death)
Host and hostess look disapprovingly at Amma. Surely I have been up to some 'uncultured' activity in America if I didn't know Shibu, the one from Vattiyoorkavu, the one who married Somasekharan Nair's daughter, the one who had retired from Electricity Board (state-owned power corporation).
Now with the great head-bobbing, I slay such conversations right at their source, before they can begin to breathe fire.
Yes, my head-bobbing conveys, I know any Shibu, Baiju, Biju, Ranjith or Manu or Vinu who is married to any random retired Board-member Nair's daughter, don't I? No? Yes?
The head-bobbing with the grin is is the ultimate solution. It is 42. It is like a massive, slow, garbage dispenser in which all hope for meaning meet a crushing death. May be this is what the Puranas (myths and legends) talk about as the cosmic churning of the celestial ocean in the hope of elixir. It is an eternal hope in which, as with all other things Indian, no sense of accountability is ever ascribed.
Talking of accountability, the astrologer gang who had conducted the divination has precribed a long list of rituals to be conducted to ward off all the bad karma hanging around the humungus treasure recently discovered at the Padmanabha temple. 10,000 of one type of homam (fire-sacrifice), 24,000 of another type of yajnam (again fire sacrifice), donations to Brahmins etc. No prices for guessing which gang is supposed to conduct all these sacrifices and collect the handsome fees and donations. I admire this bunch. P.T. Barnum pales in comparison to what these crooks have pulled off for thousands of years here!
"After losing fat Obese people (with a capital o) are the MOST BEAUTIFUL ONES" proclaims the ad for an ayurvedic abs clinic. The services offered as part of the 'slimming programmes' are weight loss, tummy trimming (sounds as casual as a haircut), inch loss (I don't think this is the opposite of the penis enlargement email scams), postural management (worthy of an MBA course surely), arm and breast firming (man-boobs are not specified) and figure correction (something politicians and administrators here are experts in).
Got myself a head and face Ayurvedic oil massage this morning. If I had known these were this good, I would have come to India more often. There were two kinds of oil. Fresh homemade coconut oil for the face and some ayurvedic concoction that had amla, red bean, basil and other ingredients for the head. Before the massage started there was a ritual. Nothing can start without a ritual, can it? This involved placing a little oil in some 'cardinal' locations of the body. After placement in the center of the palms and the feet and behind both ears, all of sudden I was asked to lift my t-shirt so that the ritual drop can be put on my belly button. For a moment, I felt like a Telugu movie heroine. Though there was no happy ending, I was blissful at the end of the 20 minute affair. But I am afraid all the renewed blood flow into the head could cause inch loss!
Amma showed me the receipt for the wedding hall decorations order. Apparently, there is a shortage of flowers coming from Tamil Nadu. The rates were scorchingly high but decorations are a must. It looked like she wasn't expecting such a big amount. I sensed blood and struck, "Weddings are the only big splurge in Indian life. There is no long term investment for a life time of savings. The society markets the wedding as a much desirable event. Everyone falls for it and then are left holding a baby in a year. " That final statement was made to evoke a specific memory. Last evening we had met two of my friends, much younger to me, who lived the colony, with a forlorn expression holding their babies, as stentorian voices of their wives beckoned from inside the house. By stern voices I mean something that is heading in the direction of Big Bang Theory's Howard's mom and will get there in a few years time.
"True," Amma said planting a reflective stare at the ceiling. Progress, I thought.
Had to miss out on the live telecast of the Nehru trophy snakeboat race because some wedding shopping needed to be done. At the tailor's shop, Amma said it would take just a minute, so I hadn't carried any reading material. By the time she came out 45 minutes later, I had received a quick tutorial about the operation of the Cell taxi service in the city from the driver: the driver's wages, fare rates, types of cars, competing services and more!
Two 'kasavu mundu' (gold bordered dhotis) were bought for me and Achan for the wedding. One more temple visit. The Siva temple at Sreekanteswaram. Due to two newly opened silk and gold showrooms, traffic on the street to the temple was fully jammed. Traffic policemen were trying to squeeze the vehicles through in between the parked ones. On top of that more construction was going on. The construction workers were clearly non-Malayalis. "Malayalis charge 550 per day. They work for 350." explained the taxi driver. Most of these workers are from Nepal and Bengal.This temple had four different varieties of Banyan/Peepal trees at its four corners. There is a specific warning against perambulating the 'Arasu' tree after 6pm. I hope to find out the ancient Indian wisdom behind that from some devout Hindu soon. At the entrance of the temple, there is a signboard that says that entrance is restricted only to those who "profess" Hindusim. "Profess" seems much more serious than 'believe', 'practise' and 'follow'. Though I am no professor, I went inside!
At the traffic signal, more education from the driver. He had parked the car very much forward into the intersection while waiting for the signal. The policeman near by started shouting at him. I was getting uncomfortable but our driver completely, totally ignored him! As the signal changed and we moved, he said, "These are 'coolie police', look at his collar, it says KHG. They are just ex-military men on temperory wages not real Kerala Police!" Abbreviations and Collars, rather lack thereof, can make an individual invisible and inaudible!
A short long distance trip for some more invitations is scheduled for tomorrow. I will carry the camera and take some snaps in the villages.
Youngsters have appeared on the roadside this evening selling replicas of the national flag. The Raj Bhavan, governor's residence, has been illuminated. Independence Day spirit is in the air. The Electricity Board and Water Authority have been around since independence. But they seem to have only managed to get the daughters of Somashekharan Nairs married off. Irritatingly erratic power supply plagues even after over six decades of democratic freedom!
ps: The tailor remarked about my prospective marriage!
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