Journey

Run, Rubberman and jump. Spring off the tree-tops and dance on the electric poles, Bounce off the wires-

That was my long-car-journey game, when I'm relegated to the back-seat, without any say in the choice of music. The Rubberman, who can run along with the car, as fast as my eyes could dart across the road-side posts. He is an acrobat and escape artist, a Houdini-meets-the-trapeze. He would perform for me on the electric poles, or on the trees, the buildings, jumping on and off the cars and trucks like Jackie Chan.

Good-bye

He slapped me on the face and gave me a pinch on the cheek. My eyes were filling up. I couldn't show him that.

Nanniyi paddikkanam. Appayum Ammayeyum annusarikkanam. Ninte pengale kathu nokkikonum. Nee allathe avalke ara ullathu. Appayum ammayum officil pokumbol, neeyanu avale nokkendathu. Nannayi varum. Adutha vacationu varan nokkanum.

He pinched me on the arm. I was distraught - I couldn't breathe. I just have to hold on till I get past the entrance. I couldn't show him. Then I noticed his eyes, they were getting red, moist and shiny. I couldn't stand it - I have never seen him so emotional, so vulnerable. He was the strongest person I've ever seen and he has never been sad or soft for anything. And he was on the verge of tears too.

I quickly murmured my assent and give him an umma and move forward into the terminal building. I could feel the heat in my eyes and the cool stream that was flowing down both cheeks. I waited till I was out of sight from the entrance before I wiped my eyes.

Adi kolli

Nmouse! where are you?

I was upstairs, raiding the forbidden cupboard. full of books, novels, story books. In those houses, there were storage spaces near the ceiling to put in suitcases and boxes.

He's coming upstairs.

I remove all signs of the cupboard being opened and climb up on the table, using the window grill and heave myself onto the luggage space. I fold myself, it's a tight squeeze. He's opening the door.

NMouse!

I try not to laugh. He's right in front of me. I always used to wonder how the people in movies always missed a person hiding behind an open door. If he catches me not answering when I'm right there behind him, I'm dead for sure.

He goes into the bathroom.

Nmouse! veruthe adi kollatharuthe!

It's too much, I have to laugh.

He turns and closes the door. I chuckle and giggle. I'm going to be a detective, and a spy, like Jupiter Jones in The Three Investigators.

I still wonder how I managed to fit into that small space, barely fitting two suitcases.

Nee evide ayirunnu! Villichal vilikekkanam! (Where were you! Why didn't you answer me!)

Marry and love thy Flavia

I was helping my sister out with her English homework, discussing Shylock. And as way leads on to way, I ended up with the quote of "No man is an island.." I had the sudden urge to read the whole thing. So I went to the library and took out The Complete Works of John Donne and started reading it on the way back.

It was then I came across "The Anagram". Intriguing! Poetry puzzle?

Marry, and love thy Flavia, for she
Hath all things, whereby others beauteous be;
For, though her eyes be small, her mouth is great;
Though they be ivory, yet her teeth be jet;
Though they be dim, yet she is light enough;
And though her harsh hair fall, her skin is tough;
What though her cheeks be yellow, her hair's red,
Give her thine, and she hath a maidenhead.

Though all her parts be not in th' usual place,
She hath yet an anagram of a good face.

I was laughing my heart off!

I remember my English teacher praising Donne's virtues, the timeless words. We didn't discuss the "romantic" side of Donne, possibly because the analysis of the fairly conservative Romeo & Juliet did set off pesky giggling teenagers teetering at the cliffs of puberty.

Tilaka

I was 4 or 5 when this happened.

"Wake up, go bathe (poyi kullike)."

It was still pitch black outside. It was the quietest I'd ever known, save for the noisy insects 'kee-ing' outside.

"I'll keep your clothes ironed on the ironing board (a table with extra layers of bed-sheets). You can go upstairs and take a shower. "

I liked taking a bath in the guest room upstairs. I sat up and manoeuvred myself out from between my cousins, wincing as my well-wrapped (pothachumoodi kiddanna) feet touched the cold mosaic floor.

The sole street-lamp cast its feeble white light, through the misted windows, casting contorted butterfly shadows of the window grill on the furniture in the living room. Amma was ironing rummaging through shelf (wardrobe). I trotted upstairs and into the bathroom.

Shivering cold. Where are my shirt and nickers (shorts)? I peeped out from the bathroom, and found the nickers. Amma must be ironing the shirt. I switched off the lights before leaving the room and navigated downstairs in the dark - I know my home like the back of my hand.

5 steps down. Landing. 9 steps down. 1big step and 1 small step.

The green polo shirt was laid out on the table. Amma is not there. Gingerly, I grasp the iron and laid it down on the shirt. I wanted to iron my shirt, it's satisfying to watch the creases disappear and making the surface as smooth as you can. I moved it up and down-

It's gone too far. I felt the rim slide across my chest held tight against the table.

It was hot. Very hot. VERY, very hot. I try to blow away the heat and the pain. I can't stand the pain, the burning pain. I can't make a sound. If I do, I'll get in trouble, big trouble for ironing without permission. I don't like getting scolded, especially in the morning, during the holidays. I was going to keep quiet no matter what.

Amma is coming back with some of her clothes. I slid my T-shirt on without letting it touch the raw burn. It's very hot. Luckily, I pulled off my nonchalant face and made it past her to the settee (sofa) where I could nurse my single horizontal tilaka branded on my chest. I blew on it. I dripped water on it. I opened the fridge and bared my chest to it - the freezer compartment was too high.

"Stop playing with the fridge. Drink the milk, it's on the table. "

I must have missed my prayers in the morning or did something bad. God is repaying me. It's going to be a long and tortuous train journey on the Venad.

Juvenile Rituals

"Ennikeda!"

"5 minutes koode please, ammachi!"

"Samayam ethrayayennariyo! Chakka pothane pole kiddunnurangunnu!"

"Please, please, please..."

She goes into the kitchen. I go back to sleep.

"DA! ENNIKEDA!"

A rolled-up newspaper is used to swat me.

"Appooppa please, 5 minutes, please" I murmur and go back to sleep.

I feel a sharp pain on my on my arm, as he effortlessly rolls my skin between his thumb and index finger - I am awake, fully.

Sitting up, I pray, thank you. Going to the toilet, I find my toothbrush displaced from its careful perch, the bristles facing down on the ledge. Sshho! Needs an extra wash.

"Prathicho? Engil dha paalu kuddike. njan nannayi panchara ittittunde."

I grimace. She sees it.

"Angu vallichu kudicha mathi, valiya pose kannikunnu (!)"
I manouevre the cup and blow away the top layer.

"Athinu oru kuyyappavumilla. Dha, paada mati."


It's 8.05.

I don't want this much. Just a little.
Just eat it.

The bus gets there by 8.15. I run up the slope, eyes fixed on the junction up ahead, ears pricked for the sound of the groaning of a bus. Perhaps it knows that

9.00
O God, our Lord and Creator, help us to be good and learn our lessons well. Teach us to know You and ourselves rightly.
Goood morning, maadum.

10.35 Interval. I never have snacks.
10.45 First bell
10.50 Second bell

12.10 Lunch break.

3.30Thank you Lord for all your..

Grab the pandaaram (school bag) and get the bus home.

Tea - much as I try to eat two pieces banana fritters in half an hour to cover an episode of what ever is on TV, they're gobbled up before the first set of ads in 5 minutes.

5.30/6 - Start by doing the work I didn't like.

8.00 - Supper - again see tea-time strategy.

9.30 - Read myself to sleep.

After lights out - Thanks a lot, God.

The boundaries of my day were marked by prayer.

Responsibilities, rights and privileges

Eve-teasing, Plastic litter, Blogging, Journalism and media responsibility, Universal, comprehensive, free healthcare: is it possible for 1,800,000,000 people by 2050?, Domestic violence, Ageing parents, old age homes, Marriage, arranged marriages, Women's rights, Racism, bigotry, prejudices, Parental responsibilities, Doctor-patient relationship and patient autonomy, School's/Teacher's responsibilities, Next generation of Kerala youths, Malayalam language, Internet in Kerala, Criticism/Satire of political, religous and cultural issues, Comedy programmes on TV, Anti-privacy laws coming soon?, Alcohol, Smoking, Sex, Drugs.

What does an Indian, a Keralite, a Malayalee think about these issues? I want to find out what I think about them (after my exam - this is just another procrastination deed.) During the last couple of days, I've pretty much read all the archives of these bloggers which gave me the inspiration for taking this on: angel-doc, jiby216, malaysianincanada, poomanam, thanurambles.
Other excellent procrastination sites covered during this time: wikimapia.org, ted.com, def poetry slam videos on youtube, rives.