Until Poor Connectivity Do Us Part

A robotic voice says "Tu mangi il pane." I press the button to hear the same voice repeat the same sentence, in a much slower pace this time. I hear it right and key in 'You eat the bread', and hit the submit button. The 'ting' sound is heard and a green tick pops up on my screen. I click next and it proceeds to the next question.

Duolingo, is the only voice I hear apart from that of my parents and best friend (all of them over WhatsApp) on daily basis. Duolingo isn't my exotic friend or housemate, it is the language app that teaches me Italian and Hindi. For the last year, Duo (that's the actual nickname) has been one of my best friends. When I don't show up on the app for a day, Duo will buzz me, and even emails me to remind me that he misses me (how lovely!).

A few years ago, I considered myself anti-technology. I believed that technology puts people in a virtual world and makes them connected to an artificial space that doesn't exist. However, my opinion on technology today has taken a diametrically opposite turn. I truly believe technology can keep you sane. In an environment where the drop of a pin can be heard, where the nearest mall or train station is many miles away, it is this technology, the voice of my loved ones on WhatsApp, Duo's voice and Cortana's voice (the Android assistant on my phone) that makes me feel connected to the world around me.

Technology has occupied every sphere of our urban lives. From the alarm, to the voice that reminds you to get off at your designated station, everything in today's world is controlled by technology. My best friend can view my manuscripts ten thousand miles away and suggest changes. I can see the picture of my cousin's baby from three thousand miles away.

People say that we have become slaves of technology, yet I strongly believe that we have not become slaves but have started to consider technology as an indispensable part of life. A hundred years ago, electricity was not an integral part of life, now most people can not imagine a life without it. The same applies to Wifi, smartphones and other devices. 

This bond between man and machine cannot be undone so easily. Unless poor connectivity does us part, we will be tied in this relationship. A relationship that brings us close ones closer, when we are apart. 

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.

Tank Full of Memories

Narrow steps lead to my realm,
Jade green water reflects light,
Ducks or swans, they saunter,
My Grandmom holds me tight,
I wish to touch the water,
But permitted I am not,
'Goodbye Mylapore Tank'.

The shops that dot the mini lake,
Are abuzz with the sound of life,
Glass Bangles tinkle off my hand,
The task to buy a board and knife.
I wish to touch the water,
My mind is there not,
'Goodbye Mylapore Tank'.

The bus is late, I'm in a haste,
The trees between us dance,
Lotus leaves and buzzing bees,
The sight throws me in a trance.
I wish to touch the water,
But time I have not,
'Goodbye Mylapore Tank'.

The engines soar, flight ascends,
My tank is but a green square,
The train runs along the the side,
A view to behold up in the air,
I wish to touch the water,
But reach it I cannot,
'Goodbye Mylapore Tank'.

Sit Beside Me

A white food box lay on the table we now shared. I looked at her in the eye and she opened it to give me a idly coated in garlic chutney. The aroma of garlic wafted through the class and I wolfed down the idly and smiled.

She had been my bench mate and best friend for the last six months. Her eyes sparked and a little dimple appeared on her cheek as she smiled. She was my sounding board and I wondered how class would be once we parted ways. I was going to be the only girl in my new course and wondered if I could survive it.

My Premonitions were sadly right!

 Seven dozen men sat in a room, discussing the days lesson. No one gave a second glance to me as I entered the class. Tiptoeing to my lonely front bench that could seat five, I sat down. Placing my rucksack beside me, I pulled out a Teddy bear. It had been a year since I joined this class and my only bench mate was the teddy bear attired in a fading blue shirt. I felt like an untouchable and wondered why the a mere absence of a 'y' chromosome made me despicable.

The Lecturer had not arrived and despite being surrounded by so many people, I felt alone. I had not spoken to anyone but family in months. My attempts to make conversation with the others in her class had been shot down by cold glares and silence. I had given up and resigned myself. 

I sighed as I felt that day would be no different. I turned to the window and stared out into space, counting the trees to keep myself occupied. I knew the number of trees visible and where they stood. I could even notice if one of them had been cut. One hundred and eight, I told myself for the fifth time that week. The lecturer had still not arrived. I placed my head on the desk for her five minute nap.

The buzz of the class silenced down and I woke up with a start. The lecturer had arrived and I stood up as a mark of respect despite not wanting to. Fifteen minutes into the class I realised that my teddy bear was gone, and where it sat was a person attired in a black shirt. I could not help but look at his face as he turned and shot me a smile. His eyes sparkled and a little dimple appeared on his cheek as he smiled.

A small step from him marked a major change in my life. I was not alone in the battle. I was neither an untouchable not a foe. I was human and was finally being accepted as one by those around me. The invisible glass walls that enslaved me had fallen. 

A bit my lip to stop a tear from escaping. Just like her, he had accepted me into his fold. He turned and pulled out a hamper from his bag.

A white food box lay on the table we now shared. I looked at him in the eye and he opened it to give me a idly coated in garlic chutney. The aroma of garlic wasted through the class and I wolfed down the idly and smiled.

Dedicated to my favourite twins Aarthy and Arjun.

Two Angels sent together from above.
Twice the Smiles, Twice the happiness and Twice the Love

Note : The post has been slightly exaggerated from what actually happened.

Educate and Encourage

The clock struck six and my fingers began to tremble. I had five hours left for my flight to Singapore. My mom squeezed my fingers and reassured me that everything would be alright. This was the big moment I had been waiting for for years. She packed my belongings into two suitcases. She packed clothes and several bottles of pickles and other long shelf food items.

Amma had been preparing for my shift to Singapore way longer than I had. She and my grandmothers had painstakingly prepared Sambhar Podi, Rasam Podi and Puli Kaichal. I had requested my Paati to make my favourite Carrot Halwa, this was packed into a tin along with the other goodies. I had requested Amma and Appa to buy me a pair of Gold Jhumkas to wear on a daily basis in Singapore. I loved the way they dangled every time I shook my head. 

While the society appreciated my parents for everything they gave me, the same society put down girls who asked for 'Seedhanam' or a token of love by calling it 'Varadakshinai' or dowry. This was evident in a talk show named Neeya Naana. 

I am a hardcore feminist, who is against the practise of Dowry. Yet, I could not help but empathise with some of the requests made by some of the girls. One of the girls on the show, requested household goods and furniture and was criticised and I completely empathised with the girl. She did not ask for jewelry or any luxuries but mere necessities and comforts. While the sambar podi and puli kaichal were essential for my survival in a new home, the appliances she requested were essential for her survival. The only difference being, I was going for education and she was going for marriage,

While I would not ask my parents to give me anything for my wedding, I do not see anything wrong in the requests made by these girls. This is because my parents have given me something that most of the other girls in the show did not have. My parents gave me education and the strength to stand on my own feet. The education provided to me, gave me the sense of security that most of the girls on the show lacked. The girls on the show, felt inferior to their male counterparts, namely their husbands and brothers as these males were better educated. This translates into an inferiority complex among the women, who want wealth as a means of elevating their status amongst their counterparts.

Another sentiment echoed on the show was that 'Marriage' was the most important event in the life of a woman. Several girls had been taught to believe that marriage was the Single most important life changing event in the life of a woman and this is a wrong notion. Personally, I would look forward to my wedding for the companionship it brings rather than enjoying it as a show of luxury and wealth. Till date, the day I left home and moved to Singapore has been the most important day in my life. I tasted Independence and freedom shrouded in responsibility for the first time and it was a bitter sweet yet memorable experience. In all likelihood, this day may be more memorable than my wedding and I have absolutely no regrets about it.

A common observation that I have made amongst my friends is that, while parents treat their daughters in an acceptable manner, the sons are treated infinitely better. In several cases, I have observed parents telling their daughter that they may not go on vacation with their friends, but have allowed their sons to go abroad, taste independence and stand on their own feet. When their daughters ask for permission to go on a vacation, they tell them to get married and go on vacation with their husbands while allowing their son to do as he pleases. This results in a situation where the daughter views marriage as a liberation and hence hurries up and looks forward to marriage as light in the end of the tunnel.

I am merely a twenty something year old, who has seen only one perspective of this issue, yet I believe that many have not seen the side I have seen and wrote this post with the hope that someone somewhere may see my side of things.

A man was once bored and took a printout of the world map on a piece of paper. He sat down and cut it into pieces and tried to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. He struggled to piece the world together, but after a while noticed that there was a picture on the back side of the picture, by putting that picture together, he was able to place the world map. His wife on returning home asked him how he put the world together, he sheepishly turned the map and on the other side was a picture of his daughter. By putting his child in perspective, he had placed the world together. If each person gives their child, irrespective of gender the ability to stand on their own feet, the entire practise of dowry and looking forward to marriage as a means of attaining freedom would end.

Chappal Buddies

I wanted to buy her a dress. I went into every shop on the street and could not seem to find the perfect one for her. If the dress was nice, I was unsure if it would fit her. I finally settled for a shoe instead of a dress. I came up with several reasons as to why I was giving her a pair of shoes instead of a pretty looking dress.

The blue sneakers looked cute. It wasn't an exquisite gift but it looked sturdy. She could use them for at least a year or two. It was more functional than a ballerina shoe.

On my way back home, I came up with a million excuses. I told myself that her shoes did not seem to be in good condition (her shoes are in good shape). Google came in handy with shoe statistics. While an average shoe is worn about 300 times, dresses are worn only 20-30 times. 

I reached home and gifted her the pair of shoes. She tried them and thanked my profusely. I noticed that she was wearing a new dress gifted by another friend. Without her even asking I told her the actual reason I bought her a shoe.

We both had the same foot size. By buying her a dress, I was unsure if the dress would fit her well. On the other hand, If I tried the shoe on myself, it would be a perfect fit for her. This would save either her or me an additional visit to the shop.to exchange the shoe for a new one. On hearing my explanation, she burst out laughing and said that it was indeed a good idea. 

That is my room mate for you. She is crazy, intelligent, humorous and artistic all at the same time. While some people have Chaddi Buddies, I have a Chappal Buddy, I never need to worry about a torn shoe as hers will always fit mine.

One of my favorite memories of our friendship is when we had gone to visit a few friends. I was wearing a beige dress with black slippers and she was wearing a black dress with beige slippers. While travelling on the MRT, we suddenly noticed the mix and match and exchanged slippers much to the amusement of those around us.

As our glorious stint as a room-mates comes to an end, I know that I will miss her, but will remember her often, especially when I see or buy a brand new pair of shoes. I have always wondered the confusion that would have happened had either of us been Cinderella.

A family that eats together, stays together....

Friends who share shoes, remain friends forever.....