Yes! I AM a bad son!

This happens to me all the time...
And this is obviously not the first time. A typical incident that happened when I visited this forbidden island- Dhanushkodi lately.
Here, now I want something really important to be proposed.
Something which I think, deserves your comments.

Scene 1: The scene at Dhanushkodi:

We were a group of five: Me, my parents, my uncle, and my li'l cousin. As we reached the island, there were remains of the buildings that once adorned the place. People around said the place was devastated by the 1964 cyclone.
I was so attracted by the serenity of the place...
A very few people...
No noises except for the sounds and calls of nature...
There were also a few temporary stalls which sold sea shells, shell arts and other such stuff.

We had a stroll along the beach. And there was a temple. I'm sure it was a temple and sorry I didn't mind to notice the deity there.
Aarti was carried out as I moved on to capture pictures of the ruins and the beach amidst the rain. (I didn't even want to shelter myself from the rain at a temple :-P )
Then yelled my mother, "Cibi! Come make prayers." She cared for me. And wanted me to be fine. Moreover I didn't want to hurt her sentiments saying, "I DON'T want to damn PRAY!".
I moved on to her and she took out some money for me to drop at the temple's drop box which accepts nothing but money and gold.
"Too much for a piece of rock to buy food, Mom", I said to my mother as I winked at my Father.
"Come on son! Just stop doing this! Everytime you blaspheme, I pray to god not to punish you and that's the reason why you're fine. He is the father of everyone here!"
"I don't remember the last time I bought my dad food."
"You're only speaking to disprove whatever I speak. There's no point in it, Cibi.", my Mother ranted.
"Yeah, Mom! There's no point in it!"

As we stalked, these kids they approached us, marketing their sea shells. Those sea shells had nothing special in them. Those were just simple sea shells. I can say this so confidently since I grew up going to the beach at least once in two weeks, and collecting sea shells had been a hobby to me, my cousins and my aunt. And we always come up collecting whatever we thought were sea shells. Aunt used to select a few of them to adorn her fish tank. But those shells these kids sold were something better than what we, as kids always came up with. They knew which shells might attract the tourists; which were worth selling.

Moreover, something which I found so important to be mentioned: They believed in WORK; they knew work always pays;
They knew, they had to work to earn money; they knew they needed money to buy them what they needed. (Although I'm sure, all they needed was food.)
I wanted my father to buy me all those sea shells. He pointed towards mother, as all our wallets were stuck in her hand bag, since we were in dhotis.
She reluctantly opened up her hand bag and pulled out Rs. 40 from a wallet. (It vividly isn't a matter to be considered whether the rupees were pulled out of my wallet or dad's one, since my wallet is filled by my dad always :-P )
I demanded Rs. 40 more, seeing the glad faces of the successful sellers, so that I can make the other marketers glad too :)
But my mom denied my request, saying that is enough for them. She finally added, "Ask them if they're ready to sell it for Rs. 10"
I couldn't get her point there, "What? You buy for Rs. 40 from the other two kids and for Rs. 10 from these two kids? This is unfair!", I exclaimed.
The conversation got heftier as time proceeded. And I eventually had to hold back tears when I finally could convince her buy them.
Those kids were happy then. They all smiled in gratitude. I wanted to capture their smiles in my Canon and I did.

The scene ends here.

Scene 2: The scene at our drive back.

"You see, that kid was not ready to sell the shells for Rs. 10 anyway, how cunning?", My mom asked.
And I was like, "Excuse me? Did I really hear you say that?"
"Yeah, the kid was cunning and that's the reason why she didn't sell for Rs. 10"
"Oh! Is that so? I'm afraid I thought you were cunning since you were partial to that kid. You bought for Rs. 40 with each at Rs. 20 from the first two kids, and wanted these two kids to sell the same stuff to you on Rs. 10 each.", I ranted.
"Yes! I'm cunning, right? See, now he supports those kids in the street and his own mom is cunning to him!", my mom complained to my dad!
"Yeah, you mean, whatever you do is the correct thing, fine? And whatever the 'other' people do is wrong? And you brought me up, making me apply the same syllogism everywhere! You taught me things bad! You wanted me to praise anything that was mine! You didn't let me analyze and understand which was worth praising! Simply, anything which you belong with, IS the best. And because we are Hindu, the Christian prayers and rituals are ridiculous? On the other hand, if we are Christian, the Hindu rituals must sound ridiculous to us right? I find both equally ridiculous when those kids were left astray!", I yelled as I failed controlling my temper.
"You are really a bad son. You are disobedient. You don't know how to respect your parents! Now others have become respectful to you that you're not able to respect your own parents!"
"Yeah mom, I AM A BAD SON! And don't try to generalize anything with the term 'parents', I didn't mean dad anywhere!", I said in an active tone.
"Yeah mom, I AM A BAD SON!", I repeated to end the conversation.







Yeah now, I am a bad son, ain't I?

அன்னமிட்ட கைதனக்கு

Usually, I don't come up with something as short as this:
Since, "Brevity is the soul of the wit", says Shakespeare ;)
Yet, here it goes, my shortest poem ever:

Picture Courtesy: zestysouthindiankitchen.com

அறுசுவை உண்டி
அன்னத்தோடு கலந்தே
அத்தைமகள் இட்டாலும்
அன்னைகை பிசைந்தளித்த- பால்
அன்னம் போல் வருமோ?

வால்வோவும் நீரோழுக்கும்...

தேனார் பூஞ்சோலையாமே திருவேங்கடம் ?
குலசேகரரே காணீர் நீரார்த் தார்ச்சாலை!

ஆம்- சென்னையில் ஒரு மழைக்காலம்!

It was, of course a Volvo!

I'd always loved Volvo.

That was perhaps the first time ever I hated one.

I had always loved my AT. As I sat down on that seat marked W11, I hated AT for the first time.

It was perhaps because Chennai got drenched in rain. 

Yeah, "Life After Life" was shedding tears, as I held it tight, getting it off my backpack.

That day was a real terrible one for me!

Everything I had along, wasn't just wet,  Literally, "DRENCHED"

I'm sure anyone new to Chennai,

would have found it hard to differentiate Coovam from the roads in Chennai.

Not so late did I realize there was a leakage from atop the windshield I was sitting beside.

"I'm not booking Volvo anymore", I said to myself

As I added, "I'm not going home for any reason if Mercedes runs out of seats."

"No snoozebus, no Volvo, not even Corona."

I make such silly and crazy resolutions pretty often.

No matter what, the Volvo only did me good.

I had a good night's sleep.

வழக்கத்திற்கு  மாறாய், அன்றைய தினம்
மழையின் நிமித்தம் தாமதமானது வால்வோ.
வால்வோவின்  ஜன்னல் வழி முதல் முறை, சூரியக்கதிர்  பார்த்தேன் .

ஆரல்வாய்மொழி குளியல் முடித்திருந்த  நேரம்.


மலையிடைப் பெய்திருந்த மழை:

"என்றோ ஒருநாள்  இடப்படும்
என்று

ஏதோ நம்பிக்கையில் தவம் தொடரும்
கிராமத்து
கிராவல் சாலையில்
கல் தடுக்கி
கால் இடறி
விழுந்தழுத
பக்கத்து வீட்டு
பால்வர்ணம் அக்காவின்
வருடாந்திர வெளியீடுகள் போல்

பறந்து திறிந்து
பாதை வழியில்
மலை  தடுக்கிச்
சிறகிடறிய
வெண்பஞ்சுப் பறவைகள்
 சிணுங்கின

- சாரல் என் ஜன்னல் நனைக்கிறது!"

So, now 'atheism' isn't a religion!

To make a point here, 
Making it clear "Atheism isn't a religion" since most of my friends keep asking the same stuff, 
Let me explain {If you're ready not to pretend that you didn't understand}

 
Take this situation: I'm listening to music in my portable phone. 
This action doesn't require a service provider, does it? 
Hence there is no SIM inserted in it, and is offline. 
A friend of my roomie wants to call him up for a long conversation, and that friend of my roomie has a special offer from his service provider of free calls within the same network. 
So, now my roomie asks me "Which service provider are you a client to? I really have to talk to this friend and it's important and urgent": 

Since I don't even have a SIM inserted, I tell him, "My fone is offline"
He doesn't get that, so I say, "You can't use this for calls, it's offline."
He gags saying, "Doesn't matter! Which network does offline come under? My friend can make a call on that if it falls under the same network he uses"
As I could sense his innocence, I say, "Pal, offline isn't the name of any operator, it is just the mode of your portable phone when you've no SIM inserted"
 

He thus REFUTES [ ;) ] me saying, "You're really crazy dude! Tell me you don't know! Offline must be an operator that comes under some bigger service provider network, you're not aware of!"
He also adds, before I put myself into a total silence, "How could it be so? You say 'offline' isn't an operator and it still shows your portable is offline"

I could hear something synonymous with, "How could it be so? Religions mean to believe in God, You say you don't believe in one and so you're an atheist. Thus, isn't atheism a religion?"

"Express" was just a word, until you gave it an action!

This post is a special dedication to the one who makes me pen this.

I was a kid then…

I was so candidly into customs, traditions and ethical values then.

So blindly into them just unable to even think of following my own ideas.

Then did you come into my life,

You broke the shackles for me…

I didn’t realize you’ll be so important to me when I first met you!

I guess I was fourteen then;

Going back in time to that special occasion that we first met:

I hear your voice diverting me from gaming ‘Roadrash’.

So smooth, so sweet, so cute, so awesome:

To sum up, so girlish does your voice flow into my ears.

I don’t understand why you didn’t offer to ring the doorbell?!

I would’ve been less bothered then.

It is quite a hilarious time of the day…

The PC’s UPS device beeps for me to realize there’s a power- cut.

I walk down the stairs to see whose this sweet voice is;

As the sun had already dived into the dusk, I’ve a poor vision.

I see the silhouette of a girl, (Ah! Did I say silhouette? I’m sorry)

The hair, coifed into a double- plait,

So schoolish;

As mom lights up a candle I see the bindi on your forehead,

Glittering like against the dawn’s sun, like it has just dawned in your country;

I see your face and repress saying a “Wow!”

I hum and haw, being unable to utter a word;

Mom introduces me to you; I stand there with no idea how to react!

You say a, “Hi” and I reply with a “Hello”

We then shake hands, “Melba”

“ZeeBee”

You’ve a pretty long conversation with Mom and Dad;

I stand there, saunter there helplessly pretending that I’m okay when I’m not;

You then leave, unsettling me… 

I can say, I had a crush on you right when I saw you, right by that day, right by that moment!

A crush which I never thought would turn out to be such a lovely friendship.

I don’t recollect intricate details of our second meeting…

 It was at a b’day party. You were serving cake slices to the guests!

Yup, it was your li’l cousin’s b’day…

I was really happy that you’d recognize me even on our second meeting <3

That was the first day we’re able to spend some private hours of chat;

We shared our interests; I didn’t know why you chose to spend your time with me that day;

But to me, I had none there who I really knew except you;

That was the first day you told me you like me; I was on air then!

We then gave it a long break, or perhaps you gave;

We never met again until it was Easter’s day;

You had a vacation for Easter and were to visit me, at my house!!!

We spent the whole day together…

I started liking you so much that I had nothing to think about, but you;

You made me words to speak;

I must confess I was too formal to talk to anyone before,

And when you came into my world,

My world which knew nothing but to shake hands, and exchange greetings when I meet people;

My world was a bit different from that of the rest;

I was into my teens and my interest in linguistics;

That was the time when I was learning Hindi, Sanskrit, and even Malayalam;

I was so mad about meeting you and you were so happy about meeting you.

That day when we’re at St. Xavier’s Shrine (Ahh! Is it a Cathedral?),

It was a festive season and we’re strolling by the stalls;

You’d that usual craze any girl has: the craze for cosmetics!

“Does this bhindi suit me?”, you asked holding a golden dotted bhindi against your forehead.

And I said, “Anything suits you as long as you keep asking me! J”

We dawdled, holding arms, down the street…

I must admit, that was THE first day I’d held a gal’s arm!

(Walking beside a gal, was, I thought, a sin then ☻ )

I was speaking loads and loads to you, expressing all that I’d;

We used to sit for long hours in the patio chatting, narrating incidents;

I was never tired listening to you, neither were you tired listening to me!

We used to speak everything and anything;

Only through you did I know love stories really exist!

You narrated your friends’ love stories and I was like “OMG”!

“I thought people love only in movies”, was my credulous reply. :p

 Until I met you, love was only a word to me.

And the most amusing part there was that it was a loathsome word in ma dictionary!

You even bickered with your aunt, saying you’d stay back in my house.

From then you started staying back with me on all your vacations.

Yet, I was very much troubled when you’re not able to spend your b’day with me.

But it was all fine, as you got back in the evening to narrate the fun you had with your friends;

I still remember that Christmas eve, we spend together.

We’d a sleepless night, lying on the bed, with the TV switched on.

You went on narrating all the Christmas eves you’d had,

And I was listening to you even without any idea of getting some sleep!

Those days that followed Christmas, got us even closer;

That day you fell sick with fever and cold, was my life’s second sleepless night;

You’re sleeping, with your temperature running high and I was monitoring if you’re fine,

The whole night!

Those days were indeed my life’s more beautified days!

(Of course, my life’s most beautiful days are copyrighted to ma sweet Dad J)

 Then came the saddest part in…

Then came a winter in our garden!

The High school held you back in its hostel for an in- school coaching;

I was feeling bad, and you convinced me saying it was so important.

So important for you to grab a good scorecard;

I’d to live 51 days terre bina then...

Those were ma days of torment, agony, suffering, ma days of hell!

I recorded those 51 days of pain of missing in ma log,

It's Very sweet when someone knows every single detail about you.. Not because you told
them.....
But because they've noticed...♥

We then met, after those fifty one days of hell;

You’re sorry for not being able to establish any means of contact.

And I handed you ma log, to say, “That’s the way I missed you”

And that log is the only gift I’d ever given you.

Perhaps those fifty days where a pre- test for me;

A pre- test taken so as to examine if I’s eligible for the main test.

Yeah,

You then got shifted to a place called far away, so as to pursue your higher studies.

You then made a phone call everyday for a month;

You shifted yourself to frequent phone calls the next month,

And occasional phone calls in the month that followed.

We’d phone conversations so rarely then;

You simply gave me a lame excuse:

“Talking over the phone isn’t as funny as our old chats rite?”

You said you’d started liking your place called far- away;

You said life there was so exquisite;

You said you’d made new friends there and you loved them a lot.

Weeks elapsed, months slipped away, and a year went by…

You were so busy to pick my calls, and I went so steadfast to call you again.

Yet we’d very rare occasions of phone chats and chat texts.

Oh did I miss reading, “You’d made new friends there and you loved them a lot.”

Hmmm… Yeah,

You’d made new friends there and PERHAPS you loved them a lot.

The farmhouse

"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven:" (Ecclesiastes: 3, 1)

I must confess I've never been to Dad's farmhouse any once in ma past 15 years, just walkably away from where I live...

I've always regarded the 5000 sqft farmhouse as a symbol of power, pride and blue- bloodedness...

I wondered why I wasn't let visit, and asked mom to have a reply, almost at the umpteenth time...

I had to hold back the sudden burst of laughter right when mom said, the house is haunted!

It was big enough to let as much as five families live so luxuriously and as much as ten families super- comfortably...

Granny who's as old as 80 still lives there, with a day maid, saying she feels an alienness elsewhere, and that she wants to count her days out, just by staying there...

I decided to visit it...

But what if Mom gets to know I did?

In my Mom's reference book, I'll then become an exorcist who dared enter the haunted mansion making an attempt to drive away the evil, but was himself engulfed by it!!!

I didn't know when to schedule ma visit... Although Mom lives 200 miles away from here she keeps in track all that happens in here thanks to the special intelligence surveillance system, women are gifted with ;)

And finally I did, leaving out all the rest, honestly, with every inch of ma step anticipating how harsh Mom's words would be, once she gets to know...

It was fine...

Awesome...

And heartening to know that no one could live there!

There was a complete silence except the noise of ma footsteps...

Ah! Did I say "silence"?

Nope, there was a complete serenity!

It was so hard for me to figure out the lighting control panels,

In those this- is- so- dark- enough rooms.

I walked on and on, admiring the architectural beauty of the interiors,

Wondering why granny wouldn't visit these rooms, but stay all day moving within those rooms that were so necessary to keep the household on.

I ended up, reaching Uncle's gallery of books, artworks and dust!

Dusting out the books, I could find all the works of Shakespeare arranged in a single row.

There were also some rare works in Tamil, ranging from Tholkappiam and Nannool to Kambaramayanam and Nattrinai.

Those books drove me crazy enough that I almost forgot why I was there, as I started grazing one after the other.

It was almost an hour and granny was yet to realize that I've trespassed!

I could hear those noises from the TV as I keened to observe what was going on in the outside world.

The noise of the TV could let me understand that the room I was in was just next to the living room, or else so close to it!

I couldn't understand why this room had only one way in, which was obviously far from the living room, although the it's so close to that.

Perhaps this is what the maxim, "Money can buy you a house, but not a home" tries to imply?!

Yup, the house had no symptoms of a home.

It was naive, paranoid, dying, craving for life.. :(

I could hear her silent cry,

Feel her moist tears,

I could hear her saying, "Are you gonna leave me forever?"

I was trying to remind her of her beautiful days.

Her poses with Gramps' Impala,

Uncle's Plymouth, 

Granny's young Jimmy,

Papa's Royal Enfield™,

Dad's wedding reception,

Wedding receptions of aunts,

(I guess she had some sadness about uncles' ascetic lives)

Dusting off those  sepia stained photos...

Yet she couldn't rejoice much..

Perhaps I'd reminded her of the bad days too:

Elder uncle's CAD death, 

Gramps' RHD death,

Eldest uncle's Liver Cirrhosis death,

Younger uncle's Economic crash,

Ahh!

She had had enough!

She seemed to be sad...

But sadness wasn't any tired of living with her.

I thought I'd say granny a "bye", as I was about to leave.

Only then I realized, granny didn't know I was in.

Yet, I had a heartache, a crushing pain in the chest.

I felt granny was exchanging her thoughts with her.

And that's the reason why sadness seemed to have them engulfed,

Both of them...

I started walking out, making sure nobody in the neighborhood notices,

Or atleast don't recognize!

It took hardly ten full minutes for me to walk home.

And another five minutes to unlock...

Less than a minute to open the fridge and snatch a bottle of water,

Another two minutes to get to my room and switch on the AC,

As I flipped into ma bed and stared deep into the ceiling,

I could hear some squeaky, girlish, yet young voice,

Deep in ma head uttering a rhetoric question,
"And, are you gonna leave me forever? I know you won't!"

As I turned down to see the photo frame in my table.

I could see the little me with a face full of smile,

Sitting between mamma and papa,

Holding both their hands.

Or perhaps they had held mine in their's, I don't remember.

I closed ma eyes gently.

I'm sure ma lips didn't utter those words, I'm damn sure!

Yet it was ma own voice, I know this full well.

The voice enunciated:

"No, I'm not leaving you!!
No, never would I"

Oofhoo! There!

What's happening at Mom's farmhouse right now?

Is that haunted too?

No, it may not be!

After all it's as good as twenty miles away!