Long directionless post ahead!
Alarmed by the fact that my dad’s pot-belly is shrinking and that I am growing side-ways during the vacation, mom packed me off to good old Trivandrum. Post jinxed era, dad is here all alone, cooking by himself and reliving his good old bachelor days.
Another reason cited was, mom wants me to cook for dad and avoid certain consequences in the future like,
Face the wrath of my future Mother-in-law coz Mummy didn’t teach her daughter cooking…
Worried that daughter may not be able to find her way to a man’s heart through his stomach…
Fearing that her daughter’s face will be disfigured if, daughter tests her culinary skills on her husband…
And post-retirement, she doesn’t want me sticking around after a divorce and 4-5 kids to look after.
With a dozen Five-year plans lined up, happily I embarked upon the journey to Trivandrum.
Carelessness and I are inseparable. Even after Dr.AJ’s continuous, everlasting and persistent efforts, she hasn’t been successful in detaching us. This time around I forgot to take my toothbrush. So also, I created confusion with the coach numbers. I accept it’s my mistake, but you know, mothers of 20 something’s can’t stand carelessness for the obvious reasons. She was furious and gave me those stares, which sent a chill down my spine. I always get these chills; from that very day she screamed at me and spanked me for trying to climb the iron railings in our balcony on the 3rd floor of the quarters. Numerous incidents of spanking to scolding to stare-and-scare (you just can’t ignore those meaningful looks moms give, can you?) followed till date, many of which I conveniently chose to forget (a reason for them continuing).
Just like the ticket in waiting list got confirmed, God decided to hear my prayers this time, which was to have some sane and interesting co-passengers. It’s always been nuns or sabarimala pilgrims or some sidey guys or Fraud ‘Fraud Mallus’ who wouldn’t open their mouths but exhibit in full-swing what is known as attitude or jaada in simple terms.
There was this old-couple who shed all inhibitions and smiled at me and we gelled along really well. The Old lady, was a teacher who had resigned, to take care of her grandchildren in Bangalore. Her techie kids had no other option. I adore those kids for the grand-parental attention they get. But, further into the conversation, perceptions changed and she was telling me about how, the kids are going to be admitted to school this year and how lonely she is gonna be, in a strange city and all those worries which affect a grandmother alas babysitter role.
As we were deeply immersed in the tete-a-tete, a young couple entered. Obviously techies, newly married on a journey to Kerala. This answered the prayers for interesting co-passengers, coz sane people ain’t that interesting!. In a desperate attempt to conceal their evidently mallu looks ( the epidemic which is rampant), the funny glasses and straightened hair beyond expiry date, which resembled coconut husk were an interesting sight. After the initial PDA’s which embarrassed the elderly couples and interested singles out singles like me, the girl settled down with a book, cuddling up to her spouse.
The guy was bored and was looking around the lush greenery in adjacent seats that wouldn’t escape his wandering eyes. The girl would look up every 5 minutes and ask,” hey, what are you doing”.
Either the book was boring, or the girl understood her naughty man’s antics, soon both were whispering and giggling like the silly college girls. The only statement that was loud enough for all of us to hear was, ” Ho AC was much better” . I guess every train traveller does that, to glorify AC compartment when they travel in a Sleeper.
Soon, I got bored of them and my eyes fell on it. I’d missed it for 4 months straight and this was one of the initial indicators to enlighten me, that I’m actually going home. Malayala Manorama contains good gossip and useless yet interesting news. I had this habit of reading only the obituary page, ever since I learnt to read Malayalam, though gradually the other pages apart from the one with passport size photographs interested me. Some of the interesting news I found were
* Mohanlal pinmaaranam. ( Mohanlal has to withdraw from the fire-escape magic act or whatever)
* Pashu maala vizhungi, shastrakriyayiloode puratheduthu. ( A cow which had swallowed a gold chain was operated upon and the chain was removed from the cow’s stomach along with a plastic rope and another chain)…
* Don’t remember the headline for this one… A 17 year old committed suicide because his favorite hero didn’t win Idea Star Singer 2007. (it’s obvious that either the boy was nuts or the actual reasons are being hidden)
I was reading through several other interesting stuff and fell asleep.
Soaring temperatures are making me insomniac. This sleep was a welcome relief. Suddenly, I woke up when I felt something was wrong with the fans. The couple who, occupied the upper-berths had conveniently tilted the fans, each one to their sides, leaving the rest of us sweating and sleepless. ( Now you understand why I’m cribbing so much about the couple). A little bit of consideration for fellow-human beings, that’s what we all ask for, yet refuse to give others
By morning I reached home and the road, thanks to the welfare efforts of our Government, almost broke my back. I’m not talking about the main-roads, this one leads to our residence, maintained by our Residents’ association, more or less miniature versions of the bigger crooks who dominate the Government. Retired jobless uncles and the even more jobless youth form this association which has just one accomplishment in the annals of its history, Tarring the road which winds down a hill, ages ago.
As a part of the Japan-aided drinking water scheme, the road was dug for laying the pipes. To fit in these pipes the other main water-supply pipes, telephone lines, sewage lines etc were broken. Presently the work has come to a halt, coz of some rivalry and arguments that crept in. The road is a disaster and majority of the residents dread driving through that road.
For that matter, laying of pipes and widening of roads, PWD in Kerala is never jobless though their fruitless (oops fruitful) efforts are visible only in the half-dug roadsides and the pools during rainy season. Walking through the roads equals to practising for long-jump or in extreme cases learning to swim and you can only drive a JCB on these roads.
I reached home, lamenting over the sad-state of affairs, freshened up and took over the kitchen. Mummy I miss you!!!!!! Anyways, Dad was my guinea pig for the day and I was busy showing off my culinary skills. I asked him, ” Dad how is it?”
He said that it was nice.
Remembering the reasons cited for sending me home now, I asked him,” Dad, did mummy know to cook, when you got married”?
I shall never forget the look on his face when he said,” I just got used to it. I never complained and judged her cooking”. What conclusions do I draw from that statement? Men, please learn *wink*
I had a phone conversation with mom, describing the journey and putting another reason in her list of things-I-should recollect-next-time-I-have-an-argument-with-him, and she started off another lecture on how careless I am blah blah.. making me feel all the guiltier.
I thought this much was enough to blog about, in this deserted land, when someone knocked on the door. I knew this one belonged to the pests in Tvm species, the salespeople. This boy started flirting with me and displayed this book of world facts. With few rude responses (which I felt very bad doing so), I drove him away.
Once again, I logged into our PC and my glance fell on a post-it stuck on the mother-board, with some vital info on it. What was written on it seemed vaguely familiar and realization struck like a lightning. That was my id and password, which I’d given my mom to check on an important mail, when the wi-fi in our college went on strike. Pheww!!!!!!! Being careful can also be dangerous isn’t it?
Well, I’ll stop the directionless rant here and need to ask mom about her extremely careful action.
Consequences if any, will not be retold here!!!
Forgot to mention: Heard a lot about the FM boom in Trivandrum. I switched on the FM and listened for a couple of minutes. The RJ’s are doing a good-job of murdering our Mother-tongue.