sowparnika’s blog

as husbands come, the guy's one of a kind. she had always wanted a love marrriage but that didn't work out. uh uh, her family wouldn't even entertain the thought. not even in their wildest dreams. so after a search that took more than three years, several misses and close misses, they finally found him for her.

maybe you could call it an arranged love marriage, the parents arranged the match and she promptly fell in love with him.

she had been pulled out of college where she was teaching in the middle of the day. "come on hurry up someone's coming to see you." after the last 'girlseeing' fiascoshe was determined it would not happen again. she had reached the end of the tether and had just stopped short of telling her parents that she couldn't care less if she got married or not and that she had had enough of the humiliation of being paraded in front of a stranger and the following rejections. the only reason she didn't tell them was because she couldn't bear to see the hurt in her parents' eyes. they were getting on in age and well, beginning to get slightly desperate.

she opened her mouth to tell them she had no interest in seeing him. if he was keen on seeing her, he could just see her somewhere without her knowledge. but no one let her speak. "this is it. the search ends here. this will be the last," they seemed to promise her.

"oh well, i'll go along with it. but remember, this is the last," she delivered an ultimatum.

on the way home she was told his 'qualifications', his job, and all those trivial details that parents and family are majorly bothered about. what did she care if he worked in a multinational company or where his sibling was married and settled.

"does he have a sense of humor?" does he think his wife is an equal or subordinate? will he treat me as a friend? will he give me the freedom to follow my dreams? will he be around to catch me when i fall? will he be patient enough to put up with my craziness? will he squash spiders for me? will he sing to me? does he have brown eyes? will he boost my morale when i need it most? will he help with the housework? will he be too proud to make up after a fight even if it is my fault? will he just turn around and go to sleep or hold me close and cuddle me? will he love me despite every annoyingly trivial and stupidly major blunder i manage to do through life? will he be man enough to say ,"i love you" atleast once a day?

those were the questions she needed answered, but they had to wait. she would find them all along the way; way deep into her marriage

"He's the guy for you," her brother-in-law who was the first person to see him remarked to her as soon as he saw her at home. "all these years, and all the proposals we went through, nothing gave me a gut feeling that we found the right guy until today. you both will suit each other". he said as he smiled warmnly at her. as a person who had seen her since she was a little girl, she was almost like his daughter.

finally he was there to see her.she was the first girl he was seeing and she was a veteran by the time, with a heart brimming with cynical pessimism.

the first time they saw each other. what she remembered most was his smile. open, friendly, a smile that touched his eyes. then they were sent to speak to each other alone, to understand each other better. she wondered at the absurdity of the whole thing. what exactly would they learn about each other by talking for a few minutes. but they were to be crucial few minutes. they spoke. a talk which was expected to last no more than 5 minutes somehow went on for longer. the five stretched into 40.

"are you a very serious person?" that was the first thing she asked him.

"do i look like one,? he grinned back at her.

somehow she knew they could get along on the same wavelength. movies, music, poetry, expectations, they discussed a bunch of stuff at the end of it, both decided to stick together, for better or for worse

14 years down the line, they still stuck together despite some mostly ups and rare downs. to his credit he never forgot an anniversary or a birthday. he even remembered some valentines days and mothers days as an added bonus. not that they really mattered.he was her daily bread ' warm, nourishing, stable and reliable

he helped her up everytime she fell. stood by her despite all her follies and foibles. made her dream on and pushed her along her chosen path ' a fact that even she did not realize-, treated her as his friend, companion, and beloved, made her laugh, made her cry, squashed a whole bunch of spiders and vanquished her demons, allowed her to crush the bones in his hands everytime a contraction took her in the delivery room without batting an eyelid, made up everytime she picked a fight, companiably shared the housework, told her to stand tall and proud before him even after she had done badly, willingly forgave her even after she hurt him real bad, and held her long into the night whispering ,"i love you " in her ears.

sometimes she felt she would go mad with her love for him, which usually overflowed its banks. she felt she could love the whole world , loving him. but he could never have enough of that love.he was always hungry for more just like her. even after 14 years they still managed to whisper sweet nothings to each other. he still sang to her and when his warm brown eyes looked deep into hers, she felt like she could let go the whole world, just for that one look from him. before him, nothing else mattered, and no one else mattered.

together they had built a shared life of laughter and tears, when faith in each other could get them through the worst, when words were not really needed for a conversation. it was not worth nothing

that's the way it is and that's the way it should be.

with a deep sigh of realization and satisfaction, she placed her hand in his and turned to him and whispered, "happy birthday dearest! would you like for your birthday present one whole heart, untainted and happily given, just for you?"

Surprisingly not many asked that dreaded question yesterday at the low key New Year 'party' I attended yesterday. Low key for a lot of reasons, though I would like to think that the Mumbai terrorist attack was what put a dampener on the festivities.  Who am I trying to fool? Our apathy has reached such abysmal depths of shame that Thanksgiving Day parties were going on full swing on 27^th November .  I know I attended one too. But I at least chose to wear black.

What was it that we were so thankful about? That we were not in Mumbai at the Taj/Trident/Oberoi on that accursed day? That none of our close kith or kin were on that list of blood and smoke? If I remember right it wasn't even the hottest topic of discussion. They were talking about the decorated bird on the table and the intricacies of roasting a turkey.

 The other topic was the upcoming Christmas day celebration coming up at the Mallu organization here. There I did try to breach the male ranks to reach the board members and suggested that we at least observe a 'two-minute-silence-prayer' routine before the program started in memory of those who lost their lives. Hey we lost one of ours too a promising young man named Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan. Bear with me, I devoutly believe that all those lives lost were ours, but tried the Major's name to gain leverage for my idea.

"hmm, we shall definitely consider the idea. Thanks for the suggestion." Ah, a nice way of saying no, I know. Atleast that was better than the other response I got. " Idea Kollaam. But the situation is not right. It's a celebration. We cannot bring this in and spoil the mood " . I was aghast. Where was the enthusiasm with which I was sure my idea would be greeted? (oh well, yeah I had visions of being thanked for my great idea ."oh! wonderful! That is such a nice thought. Why, none of us even thought of it. You are so patriotic ." . ok none of that happened.) Anyway, I was really struck by the desperation with which people tried to ignore it.

And why wasn't the situation right? Here we were, a big bunch of Indians, far away from home, gathering a few days after a horrific attack on the country, wasn't it the perfect occasion to express solidarity with our homeland?  Were we not morally bound to acknowledge the sacrifice of lives? Should that not have been the first thing on everybody's minds? Moreover, in my book, a celebration was always a time to remember those that were not with us, those that did not make it. A time to celebrate their lives too.

 And 'spoiling the mood'??????????!!!!!!!

Excuse me! All these onam and Christmas 'celebrations' are surefire recipes for disasters anyway. Friendships are broken ever year over 'prime time' programs, song selections, rehearsal schedules, boys/girls groups and what not.  Moods were going to go awry anyway. Whether the moods of people with such trivial issues were worth considering is a matter of opinion.

So at the end of it I was left totally disgusted with everyone, most of all with myself. I was part of that apathetic bunch too. Why are we all so happy to remain in our own safe cocoons? When are we going to start caring? What wake up call did we need to show some empathy?

Anyway that brings me back to the quest ion I was asked. "Have I made any New Year resolutions?"

Well, I have made one, one which I hope I will stick to through the year. Nope, its not to lose 30 pounds in two months , not that I shall organize my closets and cupboards, not even that I shall hereafter leave the kitchen clean and sparkling every night unlike the 'yudhdhakkalam' I leave behind every night.

All I resolved and promised myself was that I would write everyday. Whether I felt like it or not, whether it sounded good or bad. Whether I post what I write or publish it or just let it languish in some oblivious corner of my hard disk. In sadness and joy, in health and sickness, for richer or poorer, I've decided to stay true and truly wedded to the only thing I think I can do- write. A minimum of 500 words a day. Let me see if I can do it. If I can, I'll keep you posted. J

PEOPLE,

I AM GOING HOME! AFTER 2 AND A HALF LOOOOOONG YEARS I AM GOING HOME :))

I CANNOT WAIT TILL I GET TO MY OWN SWEET PARADISE THIS SIDE OF HEAVEN.

FOR THE NEXT FEW WEEKS AM GOING TO BE SHUTTLING BETWEEN NAGERCOIL AND TRIVANDRUM.  

SO LONG AND FAREWELL TILL THEN. CATCH U ALL LATER :))

"Kanden Kaaliyai," that was all he said. But in those two words was a sense of longing which was 35 years in the fulfilling. A hunger he had carried in his heart since he was 15, the longing to see his ishtadeivam, Kali, and not just any Kali mind you, but Sri Ramakrishna's Kali, the Mother at Dakshineshwar, She who had inspired him and set him off on a proud spiritual quest.

Though he had travelled all the way to the other side of the world, a trip to Kolkata never seemed to materialize. He covered all the metros Mumbai, Chennai, Delhi why he had even made the Kailash Manasarovar Yatra, but Kali's city somehow eluded him. Finally when his sister and family made the trip and brought back Kali's Prasad for him, he could take it no longer. He had decided once and for all that he was going to make it, he was going to rendezvous with the Terrible One within a year, and he did.

And finally when he did set his eyes on Her, surely he closed them in bliss. A tumult of emotions that welled up within surely flowed down his eyes unabashedly; tears of pure unadulterated joy, of a longing finally fulfilled.

And at last when he was tranquil enough to let his little sister know that he had seen Her, he knew that no words could fully express the magnitude of what he had experienced. So he resorted to one of Tamil's greatest poets, a wizard of words who long before Shakespeare proved that brevity is the soul of wit. Kambar, who spoke volumes in the two words that fell out of Hanuman's mouth when He returned to Rama after his successful quest to find Sita. "Kanden Sitaiyai," was all He said. But He conveyed a world of meaning in those two words.

And so, he borrowed the words of his sister's ishtadeivam to tell her that he had finally succeeded in his quest. After all, she was the only one in the family who could really appreciate the fine nuances, the power, and the significance of those two words," Kanden Kaliyai".

Warning to save my skin : Some of the names mentioned in this post 'MIGHT' (wink, wink) be those of real people. Any reference to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental and not intentional at all. So, no offence meant to anyone. 

Dilip Krishnan’s post on the names of cocktails triggered this post. He mentions the exotic names of the Sri Lankan cricketers. I have always marveled at the ’spectacular’ names I've come across, down south in my part of the country. Lemme share a few with u. mind you, I am not laughing at these names, and I am not making fun of them. Rather am wondering at the ingenuity that coined them, and some of the names are really exquisite and so poetic. 

Usually these are a heady cocktail of one or two famous names, a common name, sometimes garnished with a twist of a poetic Tamil name. And I have come across Mary Lata Mangaskar (sic), twins named Lenin and Stalin (if MK can, why not others?), Marie Antoinette, prince Anto Beethoven, Archangel Victorious, Apollo Rajkumar, Jebastin Mary Indra, Darling Sheeba, (how nice to be always called darling by her husband. on the other hand, any Tom, Dick or Harry could call her darling too ) Panimaya Vinsula, Starlet, Beta Alpha Judith (yes, i saw that name in the newspaper once), Josephine Thangalet, Juliet Viola, Ophelia Miranda, (someone really knew their Shakespeare),Arulmaya Janice Vetri Malar, Monica Damayanthi, and so on and so forth.

I have marveled at how people come up with these names. I guess it is the ‘phoren’ sound that attracts them. And I also know that quite a few of people are rather unhappy with their parents’ choices. While some names are just amusing, it is kind of sad to see a kid burdened with a name like Lincoln Kennedy Chengiz Khan. (Believe me I have heard that one too) What next? Well, parents do need to do their research before they just pluck names off old history books and foist them on their unsuspecting kids.

Or for that matter that poor guy I read about, who went around with an albatross of a name around his neck ' Blossom Babykutty. Apparently, he got automatically put down for cooking or embroidery classes every school year. (Now let's not get into a 'sexism' battle here.) And in my knowledge, the names that take the cake - A pair of twins named Busty and Booby!!!!!?????. And to make matters worse, they were boys. Whatever were the parents thinking of?