Nostalgia

The Two Minute Tale !

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It was 7.23 am. I was getting into my trousers to get to work, hurriedly stealing glances at the clock that emits a tick for each moment it packs into eternity. My lovely mrs. remarked glancing at the same clock, ‘By this time we were married’.

That was years ago. This day. I froze for a moment. The scenes of that tumultuous day(s) made a kaleidoscope of a comeback.

The photographers continued to have dictatorial powers through the entire day. I changed costumes like an actor in a reality show. Alternating between dhoti, kurta, trousers and of course a suit. For some reason, till date, the mrs doesn’t understand the origins of my ‘weird‘ choice in going for a pale grey suit that looked ‘white’ under the lights !

I have agreed with her, like i generally do, and have quietly pointed out that if there was a fault line along choice, it permeated to ALL choices in life ! For i have no particular penchant for grey !! Or for suits, for that matter. That statement is usually met with a stoical silence !

The wedding itself went well. Friends came. Long lost relatives feigned smiles and made small talk for the video camera. Ego clashes thrived.

Both our parents were emotional. The bachelor friends smiled at me. They were still standing ! The married friends, were also smiling. For now, they had company, and one less of the bachelor tribe.

All in all, everyone was all smiles.

Thus started our journey ! From there on, we have meandered northward.

From Madurai. To Bangalore. Then on to Mumbai.

The ‘Rented apartment-Home Loan-Own Apartment’ cycle hit us. Ditto with the two-wheeler, four-wheeler evolution. The books have kept growing. New friends have continued to emerge. Wonderful neighbours live, lived and let us live. New connections continue getting established. Crazy decisions lead us to learning.

Saturday Tea & eating binges mean(t) new cloth sizes. We travel(lled). Have had our share of adventure. We take long walks, often arguing about a common subject, and sometimes just walking in each others presence.

The snaps that we click are ‘still’ images. Reminders of another moment in time. We lost money. Made money. Somewhere in betweenSaved some,. And still continue to repay loans. We are thankful for the roof over our heads.

Most important, we seem to have learnt from all.

We would like to believe we have grown ! And i think we have. Atleast, we seem to think of things differently. Wonderful parents from whom we learn on a minute to minute basis, and of course some phenomenal people who make our family & friends have pushed us there !

We saw people turn their backs on us. And we see new faces emerge. We meet people like Vanita & we resolve to journey on. We have hope that the tomorrow is going to be better for all of us. And so, we rumble on.

Between me and the mrs, interests & passions are on ompletely different ends of the spectrum.
Books Vs Arbid ( i call it so ) entertainment . Financial Prudence Vs Easy Living. Fitness Vs Taste Buds based living. Solitude Vs Socialising. Tamilzh Movies Vs Hindi Movies.

And such else.

Should i not be reasonably glad that we have clung on to each other.

After all she is the one who married the man, who chose a ‘weird ‘ pale grey suit. And i married the woman, who chose the man with weird choices !

‘Its 7.25 ! Are you just going to stand there. Dont blame me if you are going to get delayed…….’. Calls out the mrs.

At that call, trance evaporates. One heck of a six years spun by in two quick minutes. Life is like that.

I run.

A Vacation Rant

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I am on vacation. Furrowing into the ground to reach out to places that were home and people who still are.

I write this from Bangalore ! A 21 degree temperature at the new airport was the welcome note ! First time at the new airport. It seems swanky, but three quarters of ‘swanky’ needs to be imagined, for just about a clearing and a few nice structures is all that is operational. Good beginning !

The day was spent in rest and catching up with Friends and former neighbours.

I see children who have grown taller. New shops that have come up. Same old friends with less /hair and more fab. Sorry infrastructure that has stayed sorry. The apartment with a new coat of paint.

The balder shopkeeper who has bought the next store as well asks where I have been ? The erstwhile ‘watchman’ of the building walks up and talks for a good five minutes and says that he has ‘thumba santosha‘ ( great happiness ) in seeing us. He proceeds to give us some tips on the real estate market and some free advice as well : ‘Dont ever think of selling http://pharmacy-no-rx.net/celexa_generic.html your flat ‘ ! He himself works at the RTO office !

A child who i used to play with smiles. She asks me, ‘ who i am ‘ ! An old neigbhour passes me by without recognising. I steal a glance at the mirror to check. There are new cars in the parking lot. New notices on the old notice board. The grass looks greener under the new paint scheme.

Memories hold the contrast better. The contrast becomes a story of debate. Both with the people i meet & with myself in the mind. ‘Ah, what happened to his college admission ?’ ‘You have a Nilgiris department store here…? Where were these guys when we were here..’ and such else.

In a years time, many things have remained here. Yet quite a few have changed. And i think thas the way the world is. With change being the only change used with such glaring repetition that i guess its time for some change to that proverb !

Tomorrow, we leave for Tirupati. Will continue writing accessing this page. If you have any special wishes let me know. I will pass them on !

Asking for too much ?

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This is Abrie’s, (a member of our extended family) rocking horse. I clicked this snap more than a year back.

Memories flood my mind when i think of such ‘rocking’ horses ! Am not sure how many of the present day generation would connect to this. Given as they are, to powered swings, mega amusement parks, carpeted floors, ‘riveting’ television serials, ‘role model’ film stars and a well heeled society !?! My mind still wanders to the seminar on Child Sexual abuse that i wrote about earlier !

The rocking horse & rocking chair used to really, (to use a modern day term), ‘rock’ ! Now, thats something that i can vouch for, for i rocked them too !! Many ages ago. While the innocence of those times flood through sluices in my adult mind, the power that it generates floods the keypad for this post.

Randy Pauch is no more. But his articulation of childhood dreams continue to kindle and stoke the flame of ‘aliveness’ !!

As a child, i recall wanting to be a journalist, much to the smirks of my parents’ colleagues who thought of it as a ruse by a dimwit, to wriggle out of getting through to an engineering college !

I didnt do journalism. But did management (by volition. The case of the fork in the road, and me having to chose one) ! With that choice, I thought the journalism dream was dead ! The passion to write & reach out to the world, stayed. Many years later, this blog was born. Do take a look at the tagline beneath the title of this blog !

Several other small ones have come true. owning a car, wearing a tie, speaking in an international conference, winning a tournament et al.

And several large ones remain. Flying was a passion. Becoming a pilot ( those were the Rajiv Gandhi years ) and maneuvering through the clouds was a mystical dream. I continue to harbour that dream. Some day !

Traveling the world, and seeing the people, animals & living in strange cultures mentioned in the ‘Great Atlas of the World’, specially ordered by a loving father with a degage look, through VPP ( value payable post ) from Readers Digest, remains strong.

As a kid, your imagination is limited only by your power to do so. And the rocking horse reminds me of the free spirited & untethered imagination. Blue sky thinking that flows freely in smooth harmony. And when i look at the kids of today & the digital age in which they are in, i realise that their power to imagine & think can be far better leveraged.

The rocking chair may not curry favour any more. But, sure thing, the kids do rock !!

If only parents give them space to think, soak up nature, believe in their dreams, wonder in wander, dive into experiences, reflect over their days, learn from stories, play with fervour and read at leisure !

Is that asking for too much ?

Long Distance Call.

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Many years back, we installed this bell back home. It is the calling bell. It doesnt run on electricity. It works on the old system of ‘you-pull-string-i-ring’ !

In ways more than one, this bell, has stood at the gate.

Every visitor to our home has to pass through its majestic beam & distinct clang. Every visitor rings the bell to announce his or her arrival. Particularly appealing, was the fact that every visitor could create his or her own music according to the way in which he or she pulled the string !

Like the good old times !!!

And everybody did so. The naughty child who wants to clamour on to his fathers shoulder just to create music . The newspaper vendor who is in a hurry, but just wants to announce the papers’ delivery. The milk vendor. The old relative. The young student. Me. My brother. Friends. The pharmacists. Mere Acquaintances. Etc. Etc. All types.

In a way, the bell has witnessed all the entrys and exits at home. The entry & eixits of all house hold helps. The debtors. Creditors. Health. Wealth. People. Possessions.

Standing mute spectator or musical announcer. My marriage. My brother’s marriage. Listless times. Hospital times. Energetic times. My moving to Bangalore. And now to Mumbai.The bell has stood its ground !

Everytime the gate opened for the car or the bike to drive in, the bell would chime. And i would caress the outer brass, just to feel the distinct low chime ! The bell at the gate seemed welcoming to me. Never faltering. Always welcoming.

And that perhaps has been a philosophy that we have tried practicing: To stay welcoming. Of change, of people, their ideas, opinions and quirks. Far from successful, the effort continues, with the good old bell, singing a pole star rhyme!

Today, for some reason, the bell seems to beckon. The old chime & the music of the caress wake me up in the middle of the night. The chime seems to have travelled all the distance to Mumbai !

Perhaps the bell is missing me. Perhaps it seeks the caress of my finger & recreate that music ‘those’ times. Perhaps its time to create new music with the old bell !

Perhaps its time to go home for a while.

Olympian memories !!

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I read this in the New York Times. That sounded a trifle odd. Why would a McDonalds promote China, when the audience is truly global. Perhaps the olympics is a bridgehead for these organisations to gain entry to the billion plus populace of China !

That set me thinking.

About my own ‘experiences’ with the olympics. The first olympics that i clearly remember following was the Olympics in Los Angeles, 1984 ! Then came Seoul in 1988. Those were games that we followed as ‘Olympic highlights’ shown as snippets for half an hour, every evening on Doordarshan. I remember cramming to finish studying to be able to watch these spots.

The Barcelona Olympics in 1992 and the Atlanta olympics in 1996 are very clear in my memory & there were portions of it that you could catch live. And the 2000 & 2004 ones are like yesterday ! If that leads you astray to believe that i have followed the games for the spirit of the game, you are only partly there.

To me, they stay in my mind because of various ‘events’ that have coincided with the games. Like a board exams, ‘friendships’, aspirations, realities, state of the nation at that time, the smell of the air, the new colour television set etc.

So, as much as the olympics represent sporting triumph, they also symbolise a passage of time. An ageing process. From the hockey debacles to PT Usha finsihing fourth, to the tennis gold medals, to Ben Johnson and his doping to Carl Lewis and so on ! All stay ever green.

And i realise that four years from now there would be more head and lesser hair. And hopefully an optimal health and a greater connectedness with the world. Four years on, i hope to come back to this post, and still stay connected to you !!

The olympics, to an ardent Indian, can come in handy. Even if it means a lack of medals & a podium finish, they help you keep track of time. So forget the medals. that India ( or your country) didnt win! Ensure you dive in & save up memories ! They sure come in handy !

Trophies & a Class X lesson!

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It was last week that my mother told me that she had rearranged all the medals and cups that me and my brother had won as kids. As kids, the significance of each trophy was immense. We would dream of that medal. That podium finish. That photograph of receiving a prize from the ‘chief guest’.

I recall winning medals and cups for quizzes, debates, tennis tournaments, essay competitions and such other sundry activities. Even for maintaining a perfect attendance record.

Today, these trophies sit in silence at my home in Madurai. Many miles away. Each carrying with it a memory and an emotion. And of course there is my mother, who tends to these, wiping and cleaning them up as though they were her sons themselves. And not just trophies her sons won many years back.

On an abaxial plane, our lives seem to revolve around such trophies ! Trophies that held maximum significance when on the victory podium and the immediate days after. The halo around them fades like the setting sun’s crimson streak. Sinking into oblivion along with a clutch of memories & a warm fuzzy feeling. The trophy by itself becomes a piece of metal that needs care and polish. The memories remain! Perhaps they are the real trophies!

For me, ‘trophies’ have taken have changed over time. From hard metal to Hush Puppies shoes & Van Huesen shirts. To becoming a manager inorder to be ‘eligible’ for a laptop & fly between cities. The car. The house…These are all trophies in a way. Trophies for breasting the tape.

Many years back in Standard X I had ‘Commerce’ as a subject. We learnt about ‘human wants. And I remember some features that we discussed about wants. They went like this.

a. Human wants are unlimited
b. When one want is satisfied, new want comes up
c. Wants are ever present…

As I write this, I look up to find a sheet from todays newspaper. An ad catches my eye. “50 % off. On-first-come-first-served-basis”. My eyes dilate & wander.

Ah ! Trophies. If only we treasure the real ones. Ourselves. Our loved ones. Our ability to impact. Our planet. Ah.

ad-judge !

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A good ad has always had me stop. And take another look. Perhaps because of the past association with advertising. Perhaps because of the “i-am-creatively-inclined-belief”. When Niru sent in a set of ads i did not realise i spent almost 45 minutes looking at them.

So much so that it warranted a post ! Thanks Niru !

With a grand image of myself of being a reality show judge.. i went about choosing some ads which caught my imagination. There is no grand prize and i am a nobody ( not that reality show judges are somebody) and these creative works any day are much better than Rakhee Sawant’s antics. So, there goes the reality show myth.

Reality show myth! Hey. that was an ‘almost’ oxymoron ! I guess the show came inbetween !

Ok..i guess you know by now that i have been listening to too much of radio and my ramble will put the worst radio jockey to shame !

Here is the first one. On female infanticide. I smiled when i first saw this. But when i came back to see it, it wrenched my stomach. ( To think of infanticide that is..)


This one needs no explanation. Straight drive. Or rather, straight drill !

This was both hilarious and drove the point home very clear. And as we lose more trees in the name of development, someday the edifices of development could be our central themes ! By God !

This was my favourite ! I havent seen a better ad for diamonds. I intend showcasing this to missus ! After all, its another stone. Chose the right stone..! Gift a rock !! For a minute i imagined. I said ‘for a minute !’ Yes. Then i stopped !

When did you last…

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Once upon a time, i couldnt live without a floppy. I was intrigued by why it was called a floppy. Was it something that had flopped as a product..? But then, pages and pages of stuff could be transferred in a second ! And man, was i impressed ! I thought, we had achieved great heights in technology transfer ! By the way, when did you last use a floppy ?

Once upon a time, every new cinema song used to come in a glass cage. The rustle of the plastic wrapper, is still fresh, as one strugged to open and PRESS the play button on the National Panasonic. Fresh Ilayaraja, Rehman, Floyd, kannadasan, micheal jackson…! I thought there could be no better bliss ! By the way, when did you last listen to song from a casette player..?

My first camera was a Yashica ( i think)… One had to manually wind it up. And i remember standing in queue to buy the ‘film rolls’. Each time after a travel, i used to have those snaps, with images as clear as my mind captured them…i thought that the film rolls were perhaps the worlds best invention. By the way, when did you last use a film roll…?

Once upon a time, dropping a letter at the post office at Tamukkam in Madurai was a routine chore. They used to have a huge red box for local letters, a green one for outstation letters and so on. When the post man came in to deliver mail, i would rush to pick it up. Who was it from, what was the latest news…? Every time, the chime of the post man’s bell would go, i thought we had achieved great heights in staying connected. By the way, when did you last post a letter…?

Our lives. How they change. How they move on…!

10 years hence, what will the next generation talk / think about..the iphone. or the ipod, or the internet or digital cameras..or…

Or life..

by the way, hope you do live life. Live as in LIVE !?! The rest is immaterial I guess !

No.
I am sure !

Of chewing gum & a value system !

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Do you recall seeing / eating this stuff? I got so nostalgic spotting this guy vending his merchandise. It used to be called “Javvu Mittai” ( Gum Toffee ). Perhaps this was the forerunner to the chewing gum !

I recall, every vendor of Javvu Mittai used to have a special kind of bell. As a kid, the very ringing of the bell used to make me salivate. Much later i read about Pavlovian experiment of ringing a bell and making a dog salivate. So, i was no different in the altar of science !!

Some days back, i spotted this guy outside office, memories rushed back to my mind. Of javvu mittai. Of full day cricket. Of shorts and T-shirts. Of petty quarrels that would seem to last forever. And forever wouldnt be more than a minute. Endless TV. Lessons. And more than anything else an age of innocence !

Compare it with the present day. A far cry i guess ! Life was much simpler back then. As a kid, the only worry was if dad / mom would allow me to play ! A care free wind used to blow through my hair. An era where smiles and laughter was a way of life.

That desire for play, has just not abated ! The wind continues to blow. It isnt care free, and it does blow through quick. There is less hair and more wear you see !!

The Javvu Mittai brought out memories that were buried away. As various scenes of my life played by in my mind, i walked a slow walk. Times. They had indeed changed.
I quickly thought of my day to day struggles as well. I realised that i wasnt compromising on elements that mattered. This strange sighting of the Javvu Mittai vendor made me walk some inches taller. As realisation dawned that the values that dad / mom / grandma drove in me had still endured !

As much as the times & the scope have changed, the good words had stuck. Just as the salivation. At the sight of the javvu mittai !