Vijaya Dashami

Vijaya Dashami or Vidhyarambam is believed to be an auspicious day to start anything new. It is believed to be the anniversary of Rakshasa King, Ravana's death. The festival is celebrated across India in different ways. While the North Indians, Celebrate by burning effigies of Ravana, South Indians mark the day by beginning something new or catching up on things they have missed, making a promise to be regular until next year. As a child, I loved this day and dreaded it at the same time. I loved the fact that I did not have to go to school on that day and dreaded the long journey to my Music Teacher's house. 

The Music teacher, a sprightly lady in her forties lived halfway across the town. My aunt, her two daughters (who also happened to be students of the same teacher), my mom, a chauffeur and I would travel ten kilometers through Chennai's choc-a-bloc traffic to reach her house. The hatchback meant for five, needed to accommodate six. I being the youngest (despite being taller than my cousins) had to sit on the lap of either my mom or aunt for the entire journey. The car would be super crammed yet I would endure it as I knew that I would not be visiting the teacher's house for another year.

Post the bumpy car ride, we would return home to visit other teachers. Each teacher, including the art teacher and the lovely neighborhood Aunty who taught me mathematics would be presented with a cut piece of cloth (to make a blouse) and a bag filled with coconut, two bananas, a couple of betel leaves, some turmeric and betel nuts. The teacher would then bless me and the other students and would take a short five minute lesson to mark a good and auspicious beginning.

This year, unlike the previous 24 years in my life, Vijaya Dashami started on a quiet note. I did not have any teachers to visit. I made a list of all the activities that I needed to do. It had been a while since I had played my ukulele and I wanted to start playing it again. I wanted to update my blog and visit my lab to begin a new set of experiments. As I woke up, I remembered my to-do list. I opened my laptop to write a post, but ended up with a mild bout of the writer's block. I played the ukulele for precisely five minutes and went to the lab to run a couple of experiments.

Writing has been my favourite activity for the last three years. My blog has been my constant, intangible companion for the last three years. I wanted to write more frequently and wanted to start doing so on this day. Hence, I thought and decided to open the blog and write about the first thing that came to my mind. I decided to write about Vijaya Dashami itself and this is the post. the next thing I need to do, is to get the blessings of my blogging mentor and former roommate. 

I just want to say 'I love you'

It was a Friday and I was eagerly waiting for the clock to strike six. I was going to meet a friend for dinner and then head home to get some much needed sleep. I was in virtual bliss and my reverie was cut short by a call from my mother. Assuming that she was calling to have a simple chat, I cut the call. She texted me back requesting me to call immediately. My paternal grandfather had passed on, and my mom wanted to inform me over a call, rather than by text.

That moment, was the longest in my life. I was dazed beyond words and could not cry. It took me a few seconds for reality to hit hard. All of a sudden, like a tonne of bricks crashing on me, I could not hold it any longer. Tears streamed as I booked my tickets to my hometown to see him one last time. That night was long and never ending. My friend (God bless him) gave me company and reassured me for a dozen hours. 

My grandfather was an amazing man. Anyone who turned to him for help, would never return empty handed. He was the epitome of hospitality, who invited every person he met for a meal. He exemplified the phrase 'Strangers are friends we have not met'. He took me around on bicycle ride, bought me an aquarium, taught me a bit of science and engineering. He preserved his notes for over five decades. His grasp of Tamil, English and Sanskrit was impeccable. He was a Gentleman in every aspect and was definitely a 'Grand' Father to me, my brother and cousins.

Twenty five years if memories ambushed my brain. I wish I had told him how much I had appreciated him and loved him. My interaction with him over the last four years had been limited to meeting him during vacations and singing to him. I knew that despite my schedule, I could have made a little more time to tell him that I loved him. It was too late to feel bad.

Now, I try to tell those who mean something to me that I love them. I sometimes tell them a few times a day. Though I know that it might be an over kill, I no longer mind. Its better to be swathed in an overdose of love than not giving any love at all and regretting it later.

To my mother, my father, my brother, my grand parents, other relatives, room mates and my dear friends........

I just want to say 'I Love You',

I just want to show that I care, 

I want you to see my love for you,

I mean it from the bottom of my heart.