August 16, 2011
Mohanan who used to work on our garden once every couple of months has been unreachable by phone! This is causing more than a little tension...like the subprime crisis or debt ceiling negotiations. Some cleaning up and rearrangements need to be done both in the front and back yards and he is the expert. Turns out that the telephone number he had given us belonged to a milk shop ("milma booth") near his home. His wife was working there. The number is no longer in existence. May be the booth went out of business. May be his wife left him. May be I shouldn't be so cynical!
Anyways, after much deliberation it was decided to drop him a good old postcard. For just one rupee, the post card will take a message to its recipient after being read by everyone along the way. I was tasked with dropping the card at the nearest post box which is a few meters away from the nearest temple, the Devi goddess temple under a banyan tree, mentioned in some earlier notes.
It was peak business time at the temple in the morning. The bald,shirtless man in charge of 'vedi vazhipadu' (firecracker offering) was briskly filling low-grade version of gunpowder into finger-length thick iron catridges with a narrow central hole. This charge resembles brownish brick powder. He would grab a handful, drop over the cartridge and then hammer it in tight before putting on a short fuse.
As soon as some devotee places an order, he carries these IEDs to the other side of the road and makes them go boom. Serious devotees offer substantial number of blasts. So the boom-boom is very frequent. But just like the Indian cricket team, no eyelids bat! Life goes on completely ignoring these blasts. Probably why Malayalees find work in Baghdad and Basra without panicking about safety. If you find someone comfortably napping when Mexican drug cartels go at each other in the streets, that'll be a Keralite who grew up near a temple famous for its 'vedi vazhipadu'!
Near the postal drop box was a poster advertising Suvidha 'plumping' & sanitary works. I should have guessed that eventually all the dieting/thinning fad would be overturned! Since I got here, I have lost some weight. Plumping service might be of use!
While walking back, passed by two old ladies engaged in a serious, passionate conversation. Some unknown gentleman's character was being assassinated ruthlessly. Her index finger serving as an 'emphasiser', the older of the two was saying, "Ayalu sathyasandar onnum alla. Ayalu sathyasandar onnum alla. Ayalu visham aanu. Ayalu visham aanu." (He is not an honest person. He is not an honest person. He is poison. He is poison).
The theatrical device of repetition is constantly used here in normal conversations. Almost everything is said twice. If someone is talking on their phone, then the repetition will be louder than the first delivery of the statement.
I think it is a carry over from the grand old traditions of Kathakali and Carnatic classical music in which the same line is sung till everyone in the audience goes into a stupor. Some call it Nirvanic bliss. Even the singers have to tap on their thighs constantly to keep themselves awake! The technical term for this tapping is 'Taala'. Watch any carnatic concert video and you'll see.
On a compound wall (there are no simple walls in India!), two mynaa birds. Though it was past 8 am, in Kerala, I think, they qualify as early birds. I remembered that while in primary and middle school, I was fully subscribed to the superstition that seeing two mynaas is good luck and seeing only one is a bad omen. Two mynaas meant love was coming your way and one meant love was going away. Even though I hadn't reached the age for love coming (or going), I would desperately search for a second mynaa somewhere nearby if a single one showed up to ruin my day. Luckily mynaas here are like the people. They are seldom alone!
Since I mentioned love, I should state here that there is still no other word that creates a more visceral reaction among the older generation. I am talking about romantic love, the one that leads to "love marriages" ('which will ruin this society!') as opposed to "arranged marriages" (that keep the society and economy functioning). When Amma uses the L-word, it'll be accompanied by one of the two expressions: either her face contorts as if she has bitten into a bitter-gourd cake iced with tamarind juice or she will say the word with an abysmmally deep sense of sarcasm. Almost everyone in her generation share these reactions. I resort to vigorous head-bobbing in these situations. It keeps the words bubbling in my mind from reaching my mouth.
Stopped by the quasi-government Agri-Horticulture center in the afternoon to look for roses. Was informed that they have a dedicated rose garden elsewhere. Will check that out after the marriage.
Today is the last day of the year in the Malayalam calendar. The month of Karkidakam ends. Swept and moped the house in the evening as it is traditional! In fact, some of the homes we visited for wedding invitations in the past fortnight badly need such a tradition. Tomorrow is the first day of the month of Chingam. I am celebrating a Malayalam calendar new year in Kerala after a decade and a half. Year 1186 ends.
Mohanan who used to work on our garden once every couple of months has been unreachable by phone! This is causing more than a little tension...like the subprime crisis or debt ceiling negotiations. Some cleaning up and rearrangements need to be done both in the front and back yards and he is the expert. Turns out that the telephone number he had given us belonged to a milk shop ("milma booth") near his home. His wife was working there. The number is no longer in existence. May be the booth went out of business. May be his wife left him. May be I shouldn't be so cynical!
Anyways, after much deliberation it was decided to drop him a good old postcard. For just one rupee, the post card will take a message to its recipient after being read by everyone along the way. I was tasked with dropping the card at the nearest post box which is a few meters away from the nearest temple, the Devi goddess temple under a banyan tree, mentioned in some earlier notes.
It was peak business time at the temple in the morning. The bald,shirtless man in charge of 'vedi vazhipadu' (firecracker offering) was briskly filling low-grade version of gunpowder into finger-length thick iron catridges with a narrow central hole. This charge resembles brownish brick powder. He would grab a handful, drop over the cartridge and then hammer it in tight before putting on a short fuse.
As soon as some devotee places an order, he carries these IEDs to the other side of the road and makes them go boom. Serious devotees offer substantial number of blasts. So the boom-boom is very frequent. But just like the Indian cricket team, no eyelids bat! Life goes on completely ignoring these blasts. Probably why Malayalees find work in Baghdad and Basra without panicking about safety. If you find someone comfortably napping when Mexican drug cartels go at each other in the streets, that'll be a Keralite who grew up near a temple famous for its 'vedi vazhipadu'!Near the postal drop box was a poster advertising Suvidha 'plumping' & sanitary works. I should have guessed that eventually all the dieting/thinning fad would be overturned! Since I got here, I have lost some weight. Plumping service might be of use!
While walking back, passed by two old ladies engaged in a serious, passionate conversation. Some unknown gentleman's character was being assassinated ruthlessly. Her index finger serving as an 'emphasiser', the older of the two was saying, "Ayalu sathyasandar onnum alla. Ayalu sathyasandar onnum alla. Ayalu visham aanu. Ayalu visham aanu." (He is not an honest person. He is not an honest person. He is poison. He is poison).
The theatrical device of repetition is constantly used here in normal conversations. Almost everything is said twice. If someone is talking on their phone, then the repetition will be louder than the first delivery of the statement.
I think it is a carry over from the grand old traditions of Kathakali and Carnatic classical music in which the same line is sung till everyone in the audience goes into a stupor. Some call it Nirvanic bliss. Even the singers have to tap on their thighs constantly to keep themselves awake! The technical term for this tapping is 'Taala'. Watch any carnatic concert video and you'll see.
On a compound wall (there are no simple walls in India!), two mynaa birds. Though it was past 8 am, in Kerala, I think, they qualify as early birds. I remembered that while in primary and middle school, I was fully subscribed to the superstition that seeing two mynaas is good luck and seeing only one is a bad omen. Two mynaas meant love was coming your way and one meant love was going away. Even though I hadn't reached the age for love coming (or going), I would desperately search for a second mynaa somewhere nearby if a single one showed up to ruin my day. Luckily mynaas here are like the people. They are seldom alone!
Since I mentioned love, I should state here that there is still no other word that creates a more visceral reaction among the older generation. I am talking about romantic love, the one that leads to "love marriages" ('which will ruin this society!') as opposed to "arranged marriages" (that keep the society and economy functioning). When Amma uses the L-word, it'll be accompanied by one of the two expressions: either her face contorts as if she has bitten into a bitter-gourd cake iced with tamarind juice or she will say the word with an abysmmally deep sense of sarcasm. Almost everyone in her generation share these reactions. I resort to vigorous head-bobbing in these situations. It keeps the words bubbling in my mind from reaching my mouth.
Today is the last day of the year in the Malayalam calendar. The month of Karkidakam ends. Swept and moped the house in the evening as it is traditional! In fact, some of the homes we visited for wedding invitations in the past fortnight badly need such a tradition. Tomorrow is the first day of the month of Chingam. I am celebrating a Malayalam calendar new year in Kerala after a decade and a half. Year 1186 ends.
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