A Love Reaction

 What compels me to write? When do I put fingers to the keyboard and start typing with gusto, words flowing out like water bubbling through that broken pipe which you've been meaning to fix but never got around to and now it's too late and your kitchen is flooded and oh, hell. 

When I was young, it was mostly love. The feeling you feel when you are going to feel a feeling you've never felt before. I wrote pages after pages, not necessarily about love but because of it. Because of the high I used to feel after meeting her between scoops of ice cream, meeting her between rows of books, meeting her at bus-stops, walking through narrow streets sprinkled all over that tiny hometown of mine. 

If not love, it was reading. Which is a kind of love too, of course. Love with words, with dialog, with the process of creating worlds which take you away for a few hours. Worlds of horror, of mystery, of intrigue, of castles filled with incredibly funny Earls, secretaries, and butlers. My writing at the time echoed Stephen King, Robert Ludlum, Agatha Christie, Arthur C Clarke, and every Indian english reader's constant source of amusement, PG Wodehouse. It was terrible writing, now that I look back at it, but it flowed. 

It changed later though, after several years. Especially after my daughter was born, which was peak blogging era (LiveJournal, sigh). I wrote about emotions, about her growing up, about what we learned, my wife and I. Strangely enough, my son's birth a few years later was peak social media. It was Facebook, it was Instagram, it was Twitter, and Whatsapp. Which meant I have fewer videos and pics of my daughter compared to my son, but more words for Rachu than Karan. Not quite sure how I feel about that now.

So, what compels me to write? At this age, at this moment, I think it's the opposite of love. Not quite hate, but anger. Bitterness. Sadness. Frustration. With the world, with politics, with the irrationality that surfaces every day. With the unfairness of it all. And the realization that it's here to stay and there's little I can do about it. 

Other than write.

Father's Day

Thirteen. She's thirteen now. I have no idea how she grew up so fast. From that evening when she was born, through her first day at day care, the first time she was injured, her first day of school, her first birthday party, her first movie, book, toy, friend...I remember them all. More firsts await her, await me, as she lives her life.

Lives her life on her terms, making her own choices.

Father's Day wasn't just yesterday. It started thirteen years ago, when she was born. Every day has been special, every day has been this father's day.

Happy birthday, sweetheart.

How to get to heaven and what to do there (Part 1)

First, put your kids to bed at 8pm or earlier, as the flight's at 6 in the morning. Spend a sleepless night tossing, turning and hoping you wake up at 3. Wake up at 2:30 instead and stare at your wife, who didn't sleep anyway.

Give the cab driver directions to your house, poke the kids awake, do the regular, last minute mad scramble to pack and lock up, bundle up everyone in the cab and sleep till you reach Bangalore airport. Get on the Mumbai flight as it's cheaper, though you'll need to spend over three hours at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Airport, which is not really different from the Chhatrapati Shivaji Bus Terminal.

You've probably seen better bus bus terminals, in fact.

Wait for the boarding call for your flight to Srinagar. Plan extra time for the extra round of baggage checking just before you board. Secretly get irritated but act virtuous and nod your head saying it makes you feel safer. Control your excitement in the flight, which is fairly easy to do given that it's a two and a half hour ride and you have all sixteen members of the Joshi family for company. The eldest Joshi is busy doing a Sudoku and munching on a paneer roll, the youngest is bawling for one of the mothers Joshi, in harmony with Baby Joshi Two screaming for his dad to play Angry Birds with him and Baby Joshi Three laughing after tripping the stewardess for the second time.

You proudly look at your four year old, happy that he's quiet. Quietly puking into the barf bag, but quiet nevertheless. Your wife smiles at you, holding your son on her left hand and stroking your sleeping daughter's hair with her right. You smile back, stretch, munch on your chips and get back to your book.

Kashmir shows up quite soon, though. It takes your breath away.

You wait till the plane lands, you can't wait to get on the ground. You, your family, the sixteen Joshis and the rest of the passengers rush past the crew and set your feet on the ground. There are smiles all round. You walk towards the terminal, at peace. 

You have arrived at heaven.

Back to school

Rachu started 'proper' school today. She's done with the Montessori levels and has entered Std I. I dropped her off to school in the morning; she was dressed in her new uniform, complete with a school belt and tie. Damn, she's growing up faster than I'd want her to.

Vuja-de and a compulsive confession

I experienced the opposite of deja-vu yesterday night. Rachu brought her toy phone to the dinner table and was carrying on an animated conversation with her best friend, Malavika. I had to yell at her to stop using her phone at dinner. I can clearly see myself repeating this in a few years.

---

I have a confession to make. You've read the Rediff message boards, haven't you? Well, that's all me. Yup. The folks who commented on reservations yesterday, the Amitabh controversy, even the Valentine's day comments. All mine. Yeah, you knew those were too good to be true, right? Right.

Chip off the old block

So my daughter is sitting in the tiny garden outside my house, playing with two other kids, ok? So the eldest of the kids tells Rachu to hold her hands in the air. She just looks at the kid and doesn't do anything of the sort. Kid tells her to put her hands down. Same reaction - she just doesn't move. Kid gets irritated, starts off: "You don't know anything, you are a one month old baby. You don't know English". Kid looks at Sindha and says, "She don't know English!". Rachu looks away.

I drive in, park my car near the house. Rachu gets up and tells kid, "My father just came home. I am going to see him". Walks away, leaving bemused kid and a proud Sindha.

The boy next door

There is this scamp of a boy who stays in my neighbourhood. He's about eight or nine years old and is one of the most aggressive children I've seen. Not to mention obsessively hungry - he cannot leave my house without grabbing something to eat. We don't really encourage his visits, as he is quite prone to knocking down vases, crashing Rachu's tricycle and the like. Sindha plays the good cop and I the bad cop with him - I generally give him the evil eye and shoo him out of the house if I see him inside.

He was not to be seen for a few days last week. Showed up on Friday with a fairly large mark on his face - some skin problem, I guessed. He didn't tell Sindha what it was, when she asked him. We came to know later that it was a burn mark. A burn caused by his mother who pushed a red hot metal piece against his face, because he broke something at home.

I really don't know what to do. It's not very easy going to the police to report this, but I should at least stop playing the bad cop when I meet him again.

Rachu

Everyone was interested in watching Rachu's reaction when she saw me after I got back. Whether she'd jump around, yell, be angry, etc.

She was asleep when I reached home - my flight got in at around 4am on Monday. All of us were downstairs, Kichan and Seena about to leave for work, when we heard sounds of her waking up. We all ran up to the bedroom and I lay down beside her. She slowly opened her eyes, looked at me and then said she was hungry. I replied and cuddled up with her. She looked at me again, hugged me tight and started sobbing. Sobbing like an adult, not like a two year old child. Slowly, everyone left the room. I don't remember the last time I felt so depressed.

She still appears to feel I will leave her - started crying when I carried my parents' luggage to the car, thinking I was going too. Cried buckets today when I dropped her at school, something she hasn't done in a long time.

It's not easy being a dad. It's way tougher being a two year old kid.

It's noon and all is well.

Beam me up, Scotty.

Scotty?

***

Mornings are good. You wake up bright and early, inhale that fresh morning air and head over for that invigorating cuppa. What's more, the baby is asleep.

Evenings are bad. You reach home after a hard day's work and your legs are grabbed by a two-foot-something clutching a dog-eared copy of Heidi. After hideous Heidi, it's time for the comics. Then it's food. Then colouring pens. Then comics again. Then stories featuring the monkey and the crocodile. More stories about the monkey. You even convert Androcles into a monkey, you are that desperate. You fall asleep before you realize it, mumbling something about the monkey who beat a hare in a race.

***

Saw Pandippada the other day, at Trivandrum. Was surprised to see the words 'Thank God' at the beginning of the movie before the titles rolled. As puts it, these words should have been at the end. I'm told this is common in Mal movies these days. Hmm.

***

I'm hungry.

The girl who died

Parvathyamma's daughter died the other day. No one knows what the real problem was, though Parvathyamma says it was pneumonia. She and her husband had taken the kid to a nearby hospital; the doctors there refused to take her in and asked them to try St Johns. By the time they reached St Johns in the rain, it was too late.

This is a strange tale, this daughter's. I don't know her name - I don't think Parvathyamma ever called her by name when she was alive. Parvathyamma used to tell her various employers that the kid wasn't really hers, she was dark, she was someone else's, she was unwanted. I wonder how she feels now, after the child's death. The lady appears to be all right though, continuing to sweep and swab floors as before.

I don't know how I feel about this. Sad? Yes. Sad in many ways - for the child, for the parents, for her siblings and also sad for the girl-child in general. It's a tough life.

Of Batman, a Birthday and a Book

Batman Begins. Boy, does he! One of the best comic book adaptations I've seen, this is THE Batman film. Why didn't they make this earlier? Die, Joel Schumacher, die!

***

Rachu is two today. Bought her a tricycle. She sits coyly on the side, like Victorian ladies on horseback.

Man, does time fly.

***

Started on Cloud Atlas a few days back. Begins well, but it's only been ten pages so far. I stepped out after the first two, to meet an old friend, Stephen King's The Dead Zone. This was my first King, read perhaps twenty years back: a tattered copy from the Eloor Library. I remember being impressed by the ending, which was 'Johnny Smith stood up'. A cliffhanger ending, which I love. I went on to become a King maniac and wound up buying almost all the books written by him.

Had the shock of my life when I completed re-reading it yesterday. The one I read long back was not the actual ending. The book goes on for a few more pages to wrap up - and it's no cliffhanger. Is this what they call irony, doctor?

Thanks

Thanks for all the messages, folks. Rachu is doing much better - the wound is healing fast. She is back at the creche today.

First Cut

What's the scariest event that can happen to you at work? Getting fired? Falling down the office steps? Getting stuck in a lift?

Or getting a call from the creche where you left your two year old, a stranger's call, a call informing you that your daughter fell down and cut her chin and the bleeding stopped but she is sleeping now and they don't know what to do and can you come as soon as possible and you don't even know who the fuck is calling and all you want to do is to slam the phone down and run like a hare, run to her, run and be by her side?

***
Nothing major, thankfully. She was pushed by some snot-nosed kid onto the steps where she fell and cut her chin. Sindha and I took her to Manipal Hospital, where they put in four stitches and covered her chin in gauze bandages.

The kid is taking it pretty well, everything considered. She even thanked the doctor on the way out. Tomorrow might be hell though, I suspect. I'm taking the day off anyway.

And the lady who called? I still don't clearly know who she was. She told me "my sister is alone at the creche". I said,"so who am I talking to?". She kept quiet for a few seconds and said "I am her sister's sister". Ah, of course.

Everytime we say goodbye

It's tough having your heart broken every day. It's tougher when you are just a year and a half, trying to understand why your father drops you off at a strange place each day. You know you can't do anything about it, you know your parents need to get to work on time, you know it, it happens every day.

So you don't create a fuss, you don't yell and scream, you don't puke all over the vehicle like your father did when he was three times your age and dragged to school. You just gather up all the courage in your tiny little heart and wish your father goodbye. You can't stop the downturned lips and the look in your eyes, though. And you just cannot stop the break in your voice each time you say goodbye.

The music quiz at Crossword

It was a dark and stormy night. My partner got caught in the storm and turned up an hour after the prelims got over. I had to take it alone like a man; though I dragged in towards the end, just for a horror.

The quiz was extremely easy, hoary chesnuts all. I think I got about 14 points out of 25, the cut-off was 16.5. I'd like to believe if had been with me as originally planned, we would have topped it. Oh, well.

The sad part was the brownies we fed Rachu from the Coffee Day outlet. They must have had an overdose of egg in them, because she puked her dinner out at midnight. She went on vomiting till 3am, when she got tired of it all and went to sleep.

Yeah, she is okay now. A little weary, but ok.

How I spent my summer vacation

Through a window, clearly

The first glimpse of Kerala always floors me. The mode of transport doesn’t really matter. A train window does offer a different perspective compared to the view from above, but the effect is the same. Wonder. Happiness. Awe.

Sindha looked outside and said, "I see only coconut trees. Nothing else - no houses, no roads, nothing." I smiled back. I love this land.

The Heat

We could feel the difference in climate from the moment we alighted. Hot, humid, sultry as hell. Rachu got affected the most; the first day was pretty bad for her. She cried a lot after reaching home, got very cranky in the evening and scared off most people who came close to her. Luckily, we did have a bit of rain a couple of days later, which cooled things somewhat. Sleeping with the a/c turned on also helped. Rachu perked up immediately when the a/c kicked in. She grinned at us, did somersaults on the bed and went to sleep without too much fuss.

But it was still hot most days. We didn’t venture out anywhere during the day.

The Songs

It was all about one song, really. Lajjavathi was everywhere. Three year old kids who couldn’t put a normal sentence together were crooning the lyrics. Sixty six year old grand-moms whose last song sung was Aatmavidyalayame were singing while working. The song played in shops, in movie halls, from loudspeakers on cars on election duty and on every channel every day.

The song is quite catchy, of course. It’s easy to see why it’s such a big hit. Jassie Gift’s singing style adds a tangy flavor. However, I doubt if he can repeat this phenomenal success.

I bought a few CDs - 4 The People (of course), Hits of Manju Warrier, Bharatham, Panchagni+Nakhakshathangal+Kaathodu Kaathoram (the best Malayalam soundtrack CD ever) and an assorted collection of the latest hits.

The Books

I badly wanted to start reading Malayalam literature. I’ve always been ashamed of having read novels like Kazhakhinte Ithihasam and Yakshi in English, rather than their native Malayalam. Went to Current Books and bought a pile:

1. Kazhakhinte Ithihasam by OV Vijayan
2. Marthandavarma by CV Raman Pillai
3. Ummachu by Uroob
4. Mayyazhippuzhayude Theerathu by M Mukundan
5. Payyan Kathakal by VKN
6. Asuravithu by MT

Sindha bought Mrs. Mathew’s cookery book and an English translation of Premchand’s Godaan. I started reading Payyan Kathakal, found it light and enjoyable. The others will be more difficult, I guess. Might need a good dictionary, too.

The Movies

We couldn’t go for any movie, for obvious reasons. Or rather, one reason - li’l Miss Rachana Madhav. 4 The People and Vellinakshathram were the current hits, from what I understood. Mohan Lal had a new movie called Vismayathumbathu, which appears to be a pale reworking of Manichitrathazhu. No one apart from a few die hard fans seemed interested in the film. Sad to see one of the best actors of my generation slowly sink into oblivion.

The Friends

There aren't too many of my friends around aymore. Jamy is the only one from what I call my inner circle, who is still in Trivandrum. Sindha, Rachu and I went to Sreeji’s house and met his parents, two brothers and other folks. They were quite happy to see us, after a really long while. Met Jamy at his house, but he had a personal emergency and we couldn’t get too much time to sit and talk. We wanted to go to Jayasankar’s house too, but lacked the energy to go up to Vattiyoorkavu in the heat.

Sindha's circle has three friends, out of which two were in Trivandrum. We visited both of them. We also did the obligatory visiting neighbours thingy too. Smiles all around.

The Sights

Veli was packed with people the day we visited. I was sad to find that my favorite coconut tree, the one which leant over into the backwaters, was missing. That apart, it was quite relaxing to sit next to the lake, with the cool sea breeze gently touching your face. Rachu was delighted too - she really enjoyed being next to the water and watching the birds fly by.

We did visit Shankhumukham beach too, but the kid was exhausted by then and we had to leave.

The Food

Staying at Sindha’s place is always fun. I never feel hungry from the moment I step in. Chicken - curry and chilly, three different varieties of fish - each fried and curried, tapioca, mutton cutlets, crab curry, fried prawns and the usual vegetarian spread of avial, sambar, thoran, ithyadi. The whole trip was one gastronomic delight. I also managed to get meat puffs from Jayaram Bakery and halwas (pineapple, grape and fig) from Sweet Mahal.

Net increase: 2.5 kilos per person. Rachu has also put on weight. Not bad for a week’s visit.

The End

Back in Bangalore. Back to routine, back to work. Back to pressures and deadlines, expenses and bills. But also back to what we can really call home.

How I spent my last three days

Finished The Simoqin Prophecies on Sunday. Very good read - its not just the references, he can spin a mean tale too. There are a few editing problems - a word missed out in one sentence, lots of 'ensure that' - minor stuff really. Can't wait for the sequel.

Went for 's quiz at KQA and came in third. Kichan was my partner. Need to go to Premier Books for another round now. Maybe I'll pick up Wolves of the Calla if its available. Or another McBain.

Rachu took her booster shot of Hepatitis B vaccine in the morning. She yelled for a short while after the injection, but was remarkably quiet after that. No fever in the evening, either. She's quite plucky, that kid. Doesn't cry all that much when she hits her head or falls down. She doesn't take very easily to strangers carrying her, though.

Saw an abridged version of Khakee in the evening. Kichan tells me we missed out the boring bits, so maybe its all for the good. I thought the movie was watchable. Generally speaking, Hindi movies have become better these days. At least they have some variety. On the other hand, you do have stuff like Rudraksh every now and then.

The team trip on Friday went off very well, had a lot of fun. We have a company-wide meeting and party tomorrow. I'll attend the meeting but might not stay for the party.

Just realized this post is very dry. Where's a beer when you need one ?

Back in Bangalore

Got back from Chennai today morning. Had a good trip - most of the time was spent babysitting Rachu, which was a lot of fun, really. She had a whale of a time, cruising around furniture in the house and being pampered by her dad and grand-aunt. We took her to the beach yesterday, which was a bit overwhelming for her. She did appear to enjoy dipping her feet in the water, but got tired and cranky quite fast.

Managed to read two books that have been on my must-read list for quite some time - The Alchemist and Pather Panchali. Liked the latter, lukewarm about the former.

*Yawn*. Off to bed.

New Year's Eve and Day

Spent the Eve shopping for a dvd player and a microwave. Finally wound up buying both from Vivek's, at what I believed was a good price. We picked up a base model Kenstar microwave and a Philips 625K dvd player. Tried out the latter successfully, but haven't yet experimented on the former.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Stayed at home, watched tv and made several unsuccessful attempts to sms folks at midnight.

Rachu had a bad hangover on New Year's Day. Well, she was puking like crazy till late afternoon anyway. We have not yet found out the cause of the problem, but think its either the mushrooms that Sindha ate the previous day or the egg that we fed her in the morning. It was quite sad to see the poor thing collapse in my arms, dehydrated and exhausted. She is much better today, though not completely cured.

Saw my first ever DVD - Gangs of New York. The video store guy had a copy of Kill Bill too, but I didn't want to take it as I was pretty sure it was a pirated version. Might check it out later. Ebert's review of Gangs is good, the last paragraph pretty much sums up what I thought of the movie


[snip]...I do not think this film is in the first rank of his masterpieces. It is very good but not great. I wrote recently of "GoodFellas" that "the film has the headlong momentum of a storyteller who knows he has a good one to share." I didn't feel that here. Scorsese's films usually leap joyfully onto the screen, the work of a master in command of his craft. Here there seems more struggle, more weight to overcome, more darkness. It is a story that Scorsese has filmed without entirely internalizing. The gangsters in his earlier films are motivated by greed, ego and power; they like nice cars, shoes, suits, dinners, women. They murder as a cost of doing business. The characters in "Gangs of New York" kill because they like to and want to. They are bloodthirsty, and motivated by hate. I think Scorsese liked the heroes of "GoodFellas," "Casino" and "Mean Streets," but I'm not sure he likes this crowd.


Watching a movie on DVD is definitely a whole new experience ! I'm now looking forward to 's return. Heh, heh.

Back from Mysore

The trip went off very well. Driving is a pleasure in the morning: the roads are half empty, the morning breeze lifts you up, you sail through in 5th gear for most part of the journey. Coming back was a different kettle of fish, though. We stopped at a couple of places (Ranganathittu and Channapattana) and got delayed a bit. Took over an hour to navigate through the various half built flyovers in Bangalore, which was the most tiring part.

Charu and Harsha were quite happy we made it for the wedding. The lunch was not bad - quite a few sweets which I enjoyed. We could have had roast pork for lunch too, when a pig tried a suicide attack on our car, near Ramanagaram. I had to swerve and avoid it, more's the pity.

Rachu enjoyed the journey. We took her on a boat ride at Ranganathittu. I was slightly apprehensive but Sindha managed to convince me it was safe. The kid didn't really notice the difference between the boat and the car, until halfway when she saw that she was being held very close to water. She was fascinated after that, kept staring at the paddles and the way they cut through water.

We covered a total of 343 km yesterday - I still see trucks coming at me.