Fresh!

I chided myself for taking the wrong street on my way back home , as the sun had risen quite high and its rays would be direct and intense in the street i had in my preoccupied state ,taken without debating beforehand the consequences of a walk down the sparsely tree lined street in this summer heat.

I was too tired to make a detour and sauntered onto the street that is defined by the left and right ,having their regional HQ's side by side. Incongruous but commotion less neighbours.

I was glad that I didn't head away to the other.The sight that greeted me made me miss my camera . So many beautiful sights pass by in life without it being clicked and stored and shared . This was one such. A photo can convey more than ,all my vocabulary can.

Though sparse in tree cover ,the street does not lack in trees. As I cut the corner the sun rays lit up the red flowers covering the branches of the gulmohar tree arched winsomely , into red lanterns , with magenta bougainvillea flowers at the background adding further to the splash of colours.

Under this magical setting came walking ,young school girls dressed in lehenga, half sari and jackets ,in all harmonious shades of pink. Their faces fresh and innocent , with gentle smiles hovering,their movements languidly graceful ,walking in an unhurried manner ,yet in a good pace. The rhythm of youth !

They were followed by small kids in red shorts and skirts , faces that exuded the freshness of early morning breeze ,were however downcast with the typical Monday morning blues!

The fragrance of some highly scented flower growing within a nearby compound wafted by and a koel cooed softly above signing in its presence in that youthful serenade, begging for recognition!

An piece of life , played out in that corner , the sight,smell and sound of which is sure to lift the most dampened spirits of a mortal .As it did,of mine.

A wonderful contrast to seeing only blase faces with grimaces , bulges and burps , the part of life that I actually and unfortunately belong to.

Insult.

Never insult an alligator until after you have crossed the river!

[Courtsey..........bhavans journal.]

Tamasha!

What a 'tamasha'!

The word 'tamasha' which I used just for 'tamasha' seems to have caught the fancy of many a Bhadhushah's that it is peppering their bhasha's, on prime time 'Tamashas'!

Alm's takers.

Yesterday's, sharp summer showers ,at night, has thrown a wet towel over the burning embers of mid June heat and has carpeted the city with a pleasant coolness.

Hence the morning , was tantalisingly inviting for a stroll. The short and brief songs of the koel's bravely trilling in the withering heat , was today in tune with the quiet and cool weather , long and lilting !

A perfect weather to be out to savour the sights and sounds of early morning and could I let such a golden opportunity ,to slip by?

And there I was, outside the entrance of Balaji temple , satisfied by a fleeting darshan and on my way back home.when a feeble voice saying 'Narayana' caught my attention amidst the milling crowds devotees dressed in their Saturday best and equally milling crowd of beggars [or should I call them 'Alm's takers' like 'home makers' for house wives,]all out , seeking the blessings from god and humans.

A very thin unkempt man sat sandwiched between two parked motorbikes ,with out stretched arms.

I dropped few coins in his palm ,which he greeted with the word 'Narayana'.

As I walked on ,2 middle aged alm's takers decently turned out clanged their stainless steel tumblers at me , which I chose to ignore and thereby invited their wrath.

They called out aloud in a teacher's voice to my retreating back,

''Hey, you are dropping coins to that sod who is going to spend it on 'Sarayam'---arrack

and not to deserving people like us" and added few expletives for effect.

Tempted though I was to get into a wordy duel , I decided against spoiling the unspoilt freshness that still lingered in the air and kept my thoughts to myself.Whilst these' deserving' women were hectoring and letting out a volley of abuses at the sacred precincts the sober, 'drunk' was mumbling and repeating only god's name !

To me only the latter, matters.

Summer showers.

The transparent curtain that can never be drawn, though it flutters in the wind,

The thrill is still there , it is yet to be quelled.

The blinding spot light on the temple ,an eyesore assumes a different wear,

it transforms the rain drops on the boughs to twinkling sheaths of diamonds,

it is only during rains that I donot mind its glare!

Barely footed.

I was admiring the red bunches of flowers that have sprung overnight like a deftly shuffled pack of cards into an arc by a cardsharp,on Gulmohar trees lining the street and picking my way through delectable looking neem friuts littering the road in their transparent yellow peels, disguising the bitterness they held within ,when my early morning rambling ,accosted only by a steady stream of ragpickers, on morning duty,and by stray walkers , was disturbed by the loud and angry voice of a man giving a dressing down to a younger , on the matter of loading rubbish from the pavement on to a mini lorry.

As I passed them ,his voice had risen higher and I could clearly hear his furious threats ,that if the younger man refused to budge he would remove his chappals and beat him!

His fury arrested my attention so , that I stopped to take a look .Now what do I see?

The man bellowing in rage was barefooted!

Mum..

Thanks to Amma, my, chumma chumma' hecklers mouth's have been stuffed with upma.

PS .In Tamil' ChummaChumma' means 'niggling'- persistent.

If I had a daughter.

If I had a daughter ,I don't and can't,but if I had a daughter and like girls of these days chooses her life partner whilst studying abroad or working in some multi national company would I able to stomach her choice , if the boy speaks a different language ,belongs to another caste and worse is of another religion?

I am no Neta to take a statesman like view and brush away caste, language and religion as irrelevant.And smugly reiterate that we are all Indians and that is what matters.

Does it Honestly I have my qualms .

What if she chooses a Punjabi? Their brashness---eat,drink and be merry is so scary , I' ll surely be wary.

What if he is a Bong?She will have to eat fish early in the morning to be a 'suhagan.' Very fishy.

What if he is a Guju. Ok all of them are vegetarians but have a fetish for cleanliness .Ponchoving--mopping the house thrice a day.An ocd in the bargain?How can I ?

What if he is from the Hindi heartland?Their over attachment to Rashtra bhasha will leave me tongue tied.

What if he is from North east?The dark and unknown part of our sub continent. Aren't they all chinkies with head hunters thrown in? I donot fancy becoming a dish on the table.

Now coming down South, what if he is a Andhraite? Though a love marriage he may demand dowry beyond my capacity and in the process of paying up, though being a woman I may become bald.So impossible.

If he is aMallu , aren't they all matrilineal and won't he escape to gulf dumping my daughter on my head?

If he is a Kannadiga there would be no language problem ,just substitute 'ha' for 'pa' , but if rains fail and Cauvery isn't flooded ,deadly clashes will break out within the family.

What if he is a Muslim . My house will be flooded with burkhas . Unthinkable.

What if he is a Christian I would have to redeem myself often for being a sinner.No ,never.

What if she marries an orthodox Brahmin. She will become a touch me not, bathing thrice a day.Better be away.

What if she chooses a non brahmin tamil? She will pierce her delicate cheeks with needles and tiny spears on festive occasions ,get into a trance and beat me with bunches of neem leaves . No way.

Ok I got married in a goody goody arranged marriage with 10 similarities in the horoscope but the gap between our families was like the one between Tetrayuga and kaliyuga. A clash of civilisations.

To click what is needed is luck.Maybe a blue blooded Chinese [eating snakes and all] would turn out to be a better husband for my imaginary daughter.Who knows?

Ps.What about Africans or westerners? My flight of imagination is stultified to India and Asia and refuses to spread its wings beyond.

PPS. Now don't you all get het up .This is only a flight of imagination ,intended to hurt none .It is just for fun. In fact there is a mini India within my family and extended family!

Photo.River Cauvery at Kallanai dam, when not in spate, near Trichy.

Bitter sweet.

Back to the blistering heat,barnacled dirt and badhboo,
Back to bickering auto's , bad mouthing vendors, bandaged beggars,bugs and back alleys,
Back to bright lights,bustling buggies,bristling buses ,broad ways,broad avenues, bright sunshine, brisk Gen's and big brown beach,
Back to the beaten track, butterflies ,bees, boisterous,backslapping,back harping, belligerent budda's in Bermuda's and bhavishya [life,religion etc] bhashan brokering, bloated , boot legged, bhabhi's and benumbing blast of bombastic laughter by a balding yoga instructor and his back bending band, in the Baagh,
Back to balcony, black crow's companionable cawing,blackish brown myna's clucking and black koel's soulful singing,
Back to bagful of memories and Balaji,
Back home.

PS : Donot have me wrong.Despite some deficiencies Chennai is the best city in the whole of SouthIndia.I am sharpening my vocabulary to pass time.

Art of governing.

Un roll the red carpet in a hurry,

pull it away in a jiffy!

Solar city.

As the day express chugged into the Bengaluru railway stationI couldn'tbut help thinking that I was entering into the state that witnessed an astonishing parade of vote of confidence and the govt winning all of them, a record of sort ,in a short span of time.

For being touted internationally as 'silicon valley 'of the east and conferred with the honorific 'Bangaloored' the state of the roads was a rude let down .Nothing international about it.Narrow,potholed,congested and some constructions or the other going on with its attendant hurdles to smooth flow of traffic .They are no patch to Chennai roads.Really Chennai roads and flyovers win hands down.

The weather is however is simply wonderful.And people are very courteous.A centrally air conditioned city with flowers growing riotously in every garden ,on road sides and in vacant plots.
A cool,clean city that is green by nature and is also being made to go green as is vouchsafed by the presence of solar heaters on each and every roof top!

The fast that didn't last.

Lunatic 'lila' at the dead of the night, at Rama's maidan.
Poor, Baba! PoorBhakth's !

Puzzling.

The net is littered with twitter and every drawing room has non stop nonsense beamed from its corner,
Yet the only 'Anna' known, south of Vindhyas [TN] is Annadurai and the only 'Baba's' widely known are Shiridi and Puttapathi Saibaba's!

How very puzzling!