August 20, 2011
There are two Teak trees in our backyard. They were planted 20 years ago, soon after we moved into this house. Amma recently reminded me that one of them was meant to be for me and the other for my sister. She exclaimed that they grew up like us. One slender, straight like my sister. The other one grew wayward, encroaching on other's property and alternating between periods of obesity and leanness!
Achan had called two workers to cut the branches of that Teak which was looming over the neighbor's roof couple of years ago.
"'Gadugad gadugad gad gad' one worker climbed up," Achan said!
That onamatopoeic expression he used is a throwback to the era of galloping horses, meant to signify swiftness.
"He cut two branches and came down 'takadam takadam takadam'", Achan continued.
That 'takadam' cubed was meant to evoke the sound of a metal pot falling down stone steps which, I suppose captures the haphazard, hurried retreat the worker resorted to. Some of my friends should recognize now that my habit of putting background music with my mouth during exciting conversations is genetic!
"Oru komberi Saare!" (One Komberi, Sir) he had shouted to Achan when he landed at the foot of the tree."Randu pravashyam enne nokki cheetti! Athu parannu kothum" (It hissed twice at me! It will fly and bite!)
'Komberi Moorkhan' or the tree-dwelling cobra is the stuff of legends. A splendid blog post linked at the end of this note, gives you all the information about the "Indian truth" and the truth about it.
Our house is certainly not in the snake-eating King cobra territory, so the worker might have seen a rat snake or some other slithereen. His co-worker was quick to dispense more authoritative Indian wisdom to Achan, "Saare, everything comes out from snake eggs; all the lizards, millipedes, chameleons, centipedes. Only a few eggs become other snakes!"
Ratsnakes are plenty in this part of the town. Their presence prevents sparrows and other small birds from nesting in our garden. The increasing mangoose population keeps the ratsnake population in check. May be one or two snake-eating king cobras can take some of the burden off the mangooses (mangeese?)!
By the time Achan arrived yesterday, my face was, as Bhrthrhari said, phlegm-filled. His flight was delayed an hour at take off. With the stuffy nose, I couldn't provide a second opinion about the dead animal smell in the master bedroom that Achan was complaining about. We speculated that it must be some rat outside. We decided to check in the morning. For the night, Achan slept upstairs.
Early morning, we discovered the source of the stench. A dead gecko was hanging onto the window curtain like Charlton Heston to his firearm. This Gordon had passed away without getting a chance to sell insurance to Americans. He was buried under the coconut tree like my grandfather.
While attending the funeral in the backyard, Achan told me that we have six out of the ten famous medicinal plants categorized as "Dashapushpam" (ten flowers) in Ayurveda. A blog linked at the end of this note lists all of them with photos and you can also read some classic "Indian wisdom" statements there like "removes all weakness of the brain!"
When Rema aunty showed up with idli-sambar breakfast, we had already made puttu. Black tea with ginger first thing in the morning helped with the phlegm situation. Over breakfast, discussion turned to the reality TV shows and their unbearable judges and hostesses. Much anger was expressed at parents parading their children for such low quality entertainment.
I realized how bad the situation was when Achan recalled an incident. Last year, when he was in town for one of his bi-monthly visits, an autorickshaw (or 'o-trisha' as is pronunced here) driver offered to help Achan out in the search for a coconut climber.
Once Achan got into the rickshaw, the driver turned to him and said, "Ente mole ariyamo, Saare? TV-ile paattu padunna:-----! Ithanu avalde mobile number. Saar vilikkanam. Oru uncle aanenu paranja mathi, Saare!" (Do you know my daughter, Sir? She sings on TV: (victory-wealth goddess). This is her mobile number. You can call her. Just say it is an uncle calling)
In case you want to give him the benefit of the doubt by thinking he was asking Achan to send her a txt-message vote for the show finale, I appreciate your innocence. But that is not the case! This is the new kind of "open-mindedness" in town!
Our homes are at the dead-end of the street. Rema aunty talked about the school kids who routinely show up in 'o-trishas', change from their uniforms into hep clothes and go away 'on business and pleasure trips'. Anyone who has been entertaining thoughts about bringing up their kids in India instead of US for 'cultured' upbringing, I urge conducting serious research and analysis before transplanting your kids here, either to the most hi-tech boarding school or with the most loving grandparents. I do not blame the kids. Money and fame are what they are taught to aspire for. It is the film-stars and filmy singers they are taught to emulate. Education is useless in that pursuit and any kind of moral compass is a detriment. Lust caution!
Second youngest uncle showed up early in the morning to help Achan with the unpacking. I was excused because the dust could aggravate the runny nose situation. I sat around browsing through old albums.
Since I was alone, went for a mile round morning walk yesterday. I wanted to see the new businesses that have opened up in the area without having to worry about the traffic. It is mostly financial enterprises and educational institutions with a handful of travel agencies. Scores of morning walkers thronged either side of the road. Nobody wishes each other a good morning.
Everyone is invisible to everyone else. Wives follow husbands. Occasionally an all-aunty group comes along in salwar or churdar and sports shoes. Men dress as if they are in a late 70s or early 80s movie, with sweaters wrapped on their shoulders and Gatsy caps. Their t-shirts are neatly tucked in over the prominent rice-bellies, usually. Newspaper boys flying on their bicycles have no caps.
I have become a fan of good old Doordarshan (national television channel) again. There is a patience about their programs. The perpetual flash of "breaking news" at the bottom of other channels unnerves me. How can anyone focus on a program when more important stuff is breaking all over the place in bright red banners? Hemalatha, who used to read the Malayalam news in the early 90s, continues to read the news in Doordarshan. She looks pretty much the same. There is a timelessness about Doordarshan. It is a preservation of the laid-back India that I can relate to. Plenty of informative programs and they are not endlessly interrupted by ads of gold jewelry or silk sarees. Even the fillers about local flora and fauna are bloody brilliant except that they get cut off abruptly. Experts featured in the programs are those good souls who have avoided the mutation into the celebrity, loud mouth, airhead species who pack the other channels.
The only worthwhile program in a cable channel is Kairali TV's Mambazham which is a poetry recitation contest. The judges are experienced, knowledgeable Malayalam professors and poets. As if to balance this good program, it is immediately followed by a charade called "Flavors of India" in which a popular celebrity, an amply endowed aunty, Lakshmi Nair (search youtube), goes places. Not one bit of good information is to be expected from the program. It is mostly a framing of her against the backdrop of different locations in India. She is always in a hurry to get to the next place which leads to wardrobe malfunctions and consequently youtube uploads!
Been feeling the need to apply 14 years of technology education somewhere. So twisted a wire to create a hook into which our house gate can be latched to. The thick shurbbery on either side of the short driveway has been pushing the open gate back to closure making it necessary for someone to hold the gate if the car needed to be taken out.
It is almost a crime to use any contraption that would eliminate the need of human labor in India. That is why even the Rashtrapati Bhavan (Presidential palace), with its acres of lawn, doesn't use lawnmovers much and even 5 storey buildings have elevator operators. Well, the elevator operator presence might also be because any tiny concealed space is enough for mallus to engage in unlawful activities. Elevators with their soundproof, solid doors and wall to wall mirrors might prove to be very welcoming! In one of the elevators I got into few days back, the female voice announcing the floors had a doubtful tone. "6th floor?" she would ask quizzically, when the elevator halts, raising her voice ever so slightly towards the end, forcing us to double check before getting out.
When I was a little boy, a slightly older boy in our old neighborhood had convinced me that the bright yellow butterflies get their color because they feed on urine. Since pools of urine were plentiful by the street sides in those days, I believed him and stayed away from these non-halal, sulphur lepidopterons. As this land and its people are rapidly breaking away from the past, the pools of urine are also, thankfully, disappearing. One of those things I won't miss about old India.
But the butterflies remain.... numerous, restless, staggering from flower to flower, high on sweet nectar. It's a pity that the classical musical geniuses of India were blinkered into singing exclusively about the Hindu pantheon. If they had looked around a bit, instead of 'gawking inwards', there would surely have been a 'flight of the butterfly' composed here on par with the Western classical's 'flight of the bumblebee'.
Links
1. About the tree-dwelling cobra: http://kopywright.wordpress.com/2008/08/12/the-legend-of-the-tree-dwelling-cobra/
2.http://aswathikasimadom.blogspot.com/2007/10/dashpushpamten-sacred-flowers.html
There are two Teak trees in our backyard. They were planted 20 years ago, soon after we moved into this house. Amma recently reminded me that one of them was meant to be for me and the other for my sister. She exclaimed that they grew up like us. One slender, straight like my sister. The other one grew wayward, encroaching on other's property and alternating between periods of obesity and leanness!
Achan had called two workers to cut the branches of that Teak which was looming over the neighbor's roof couple of years ago. "'Gadugad gadugad gad gad' one worker climbed up," Achan said!
That onamatopoeic expression he used is a throwback to the era of galloping horses, meant to signify swiftness.
"He cut two branches and came down 'takadam takadam takadam'", Achan continued.
That 'takadam' cubed was meant to evoke the sound of a metal pot falling down stone steps which, I suppose captures the haphazard, hurried retreat the worker resorted to. Some of my friends should recognize now that my habit of putting background music with my mouth during exciting conversations is genetic!
"Oru komberi Saare!" (One Komberi, Sir) he had shouted to Achan when he landed at the foot of the tree."Randu pravashyam enne nokki cheetti! Athu parannu kothum" (It hissed twice at me! It will fly and bite!)
'Komberi Moorkhan' or the tree-dwelling cobra is the stuff of legends. A splendid blog post linked at the end of this note, gives you all the information about the "Indian truth" and the truth about it.
Our house is certainly not in the snake-eating King cobra territory, so the worker might have seen a rat snake or some other slithereen. His co-worker was quick to dispense more authoritative Indian wisdom to Achan, "Saare, everything comes out from snake eggs; all the lizards, millipedes, chameleons, centipedes. Only a few eggs become other snakes!"
Ratsnakes are plenty in this part of the town. Their presence prevents sparrows and other small birds from nesting in our garden. The increasing mangoose population keeps the ratsnake population in check. May be one or two snake-eating king cobras can take some of the burden off the mangooses (mangeese?)!
By the time Achan arrived yesterday, my face was, as Bhrthrhari said, phlegm-filled. His flight was delayed an hour at take off. With the stuffy nose, I couldn't provide a second opinion about the dead animal smell in the master bedroom that Achan was complaining about. We speculated that it must be some rat outside. We decided to check in the morning. For the night, Achan slept upstairs.
Early morning, we discovered the source of the stench. A dead gecko was hanging onto the window curtain like Charlton Heston to his firearm. This Gordon had passed away without getting a chance to sell insurance to Americans. He was buried under the coconut tree like my grandfather.
While attending the funeral in the backyard, Achan told me that we have six out of the ten famous medicinal plants categorized as "Dashapushpam" (ten flowers) in Ayurveda. A blog linked at the end of this note lists all of them with photos and you can also read some classic "Indian wisdom" statements there like "removes all weakness of the brain!"
When Rema aunty showed up with idli-sambar breakfast, we had already made puttu. Black tea with ginger first thing in the morning helped with the phlegm situation. Over breakfast, discussion turned to the reality TV shows and their unbearable judges and hostesses. Much anger was expressed at parents parading their children for such low quality entertainment.
I realized how bad the situation was when Achan recalled an incident. Last year, when he was in town for one of his bi-monthly visits, an autorickshaw (or 'o-trisha' as is pronunced here) driver offered to help Achan out in the search for a coconut climber.
Once Achan got into the rickshaw, the driver turned to him and said, "Ente mole ariyamo, Saare? TV-ile paattu padunna:-
In case you want to give him the benefit of the doubt by thinking he was asking Achan to send her a txt-message vote for the show finale, I appreciate your innocence. But that is not the case! This is the new kind of "open-mindedness" in town!
Our homes are at the dead-end of the street. Rema aunty talked about the school kids who routinely show up in 'o-trishas', change from their uniforms into hep clothes and go away 'on business and pleasure trips'. Anyone who has been entertaining thoughts about bringing up their kids in India instead of US for 'cultured' upbringing, I urge conducting serious research and analysis before transplanting your kids here, either to the most hi-tech boarding school or with the most loving grandparents. I do not blame the kids. Money and fame are what they are taught to aspire for. It is the film-stars and filmy singers they are taught to emulate. Education is useless in that pursuit and any kind of moral compass is a detriment. Lust caution!
Second youngest uncle showed up early in the morning to help Achan with the unpacking. I was excused because the dust could aggravate the runny nose situation. I sat around browsing through old albums.
Since I was alone, went for a mile round morning walk yesterday. I wanted to see the new businesses that have opened up in the area without having to worry about the traffic. It is mostly financial enterprises and educational institutions with a handful of travel agencies. Scores of morning walkers thronged either side of the road. Nobody wishes each other a good morning.
Everyone is invisible to everyone else. Wives follow husbands. Occasionally an all-aunty group comes along in salwar or churdar and sports shoes. Men dress as if they are in a late 70s or early 80s movie, with sweaters wrapped on their shoulders and Gatsy caps. Their t-shirts are neatly tucked in over the prominent rice-bellies, usually. Newspaper boys flying on their bicycles have no caps.
Been feeling the need to apply 14 years of technology education somewhere. So twisted a wire to create a hook into which our house gate can be latched to. The thick shurbbery on either side of the short driveway has been pushing the open gate back to closure making it necessary for someone to hold the gate if the car needed to be taken out.
It is almost a crime to use any contraption that would eliminate the need of human labor in India. That is why even the Rashtrapati Bhavan (Presidential palace), with its acres of lawn, doesn't use lawnmovers much and even 5 storey buildings have elevator operators. Well, the elevator operator presence might also be because any tiny concealed space is enough for mallus to engage in unlawful activities. Elevators with their soundproof, solid doors and wall to wall mirrors might prove to be very welcoming! In one of the elevators I got into few days back, the female voice announcing the floors had a doubtful tone. "6th floor?" she would ask quizzically, when the elevator halts, raising her voice ever so slightly towards the end, forcing us to double check before getting out.
When I was a little boy, a slightly older boy in our old neighborhood had convinced me that the bright yellow butterflies get their color because they feed on urine. Since pools of urine were plentiful by the street sides in those days, I believed him and stayed away from these non-halal, sulphur lepidopterons. As this land and its people are rapidly breaking away from the past, the pools of urine are also, thankfully, disappearing. One of those things I won't miss about old India.
Links
1. About the tree-dwelling cobra: http://kopywright.wordpress.com/2008/08/12/the-legend-of-the-tree-dwelling-cobra/
2.http://aswathikasimadom.blogspot.com/2007/10/dashpushpamten-sacred-flowers.html
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