Diwali in my childhood was all about new clothes and fire crackers. I would start looking forward to it starting a good one month in advance. Shopping for different types of oothubathi, the latest and fancy fire-cracker of the season, the longest Sara-Vedi and the rockets that I always had to sneak in, long lines at TNSC – my memory is real fresh. As I grew up in to late teens, craze for crackers died down a little (call it becoming socially responsible ;-)), but foodie goodies gained importance. It was still a time when I devoured all the jamuns, coconut burfis, kaju kathlis, naada murukku, chaklis, cornflakes mixture and karaboondhi. Those were the times when health / fitness / figure consciousness were unknown; I also remember showing enthusiasm in trying out less known recipes like Mohandal :) All I remember now is that it was some form of sweet. Cousins, aunts and uncles huddled watching the idiot box all day long; nonstop rain spoiling our fireworks, Solomon Pappaiya patti mandram, Simran and Sarath Kumar interviews is another memory I have of Diwali. I don’t recall attaching any religious significance to Diwali at any time, save the customary stacking of new clothes in the pooja room the previous day, the early morning hair wash and a quick peek at the local temple- new years was more religious to me than Diwali ever was !!
Today new clothes still reign in high spirits, pot-lucks are more like the order of the day, sweets and savories are more delicious to prepare than to eat and gain weight and lighting little lamps seem to dispel the winter gloom of New York City.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
We always see men in top positions. Of course there are more women now than earlier holding powerful seats in the corporate world. What is disheartening is, a man thats successful in his career is probably successful in his personal life too. He has a family, many times more than one kid and a posh home in the a scenic locality and a wife thats takes care of the big family.
However more often than not, a woman who is successful career is often left with a couple of divorces or a stalemate single life or single parenting a couple of kids. Is it because men can balance work-life better than women can or is it because partners are more supportive of a husband's career than a wife's career? :)
So the empirical fact is that women have to work twice as hard (or harder) to get to the same position that she would be if she were a man or end up in a broken personal life. The intertwined and complex unwritten rules around the role of a wife, mother and more so of a daughter-in-law does not leave any room for spending time and energy shaping up a professional life – but at this point, I should also mention that women are simply, point black - more capable people.
From what I see, she is endowed with a special sense of balance that can be observed in all her actions. When she feels empowered her man is scared that she would not need him anymore. When the traditional roles played by a man of being a provider and protector are challenged, he is worried if he was becoming dispensable in the household. More often than not, it is not lack of time on her part that lends herself to broken relationships and ineffectiveness at work, but it is a self-conscious choice of trying of boost her man’s ego that makes her a contended (I mean truly satisfied) home maker or a simple supportive wage earner.
Haven’t we seen her cook elaborately for the family and yet eat the left-overs truly happily? She finds the best pleasure possible in feeding a hungry tummy in her husband and kids. It is delight to be a great cook and bliss to be appreciated for her efforts. She seemingly effortlessly observes fasts for the wellbeing or simply a promotion at work. Doesn't she encourage you to raise from rock bottom to cloud nine, even if it had to include many smooth lies?!
What about the selfless love and the sleepless nights? What about the hurried and tired she sweating in the kitchen to make your favorite bajji when you got back from work? What about the tired reproach when she picks up your dirty socks and used clothes from the restroom, verandah and half-eaten lunch boxes from inside your bag? What about she effortlessly handing over the exact same receipt that you were searching for two hours? What about creating a place that you would love to call home? She created the balance in you by balancing everything from her wishes to his, from her reasons to his and from her intellect to his lack of pluck.
I celebrate womanhood whether she is in the backyard or the boardroom for everything was a choice.
You know where to send the Thank You note if you have / had a lovely place called your home !
However more often than not, a woman who is successful career is often left with a couple of divorces or a stalemate single life or single parenting a couple of kids. Is it because men can balance work-life better than women can or is it because partners are more supportive of a husband's career than a wife's career? :)
So the empirical fact is that women have to work twice as hard (or harder) to get to the same position that she would be if she were a man or end up in a broken personal life. The intertwined and complex unwritten rules around the role of a wife, mother and more so of a daughter-in-law does not leave any room for spending time and energy shaping up a professional life – but at this point, I should also mention that women are simply, point black - more capable people.
From what I see, she is endowed with a special sense of balance that can be observed in all her actions. When she feels empowered her man is scared that she would not need him anymore. When the traditional roles played by a man of being a provider and protector are challenged, he is worried if he was becoming dispensable in the household. More often than not, it is not lack of time on her part that lends herself to broken relationships and ineffectiveness at work, but it is a self-conscious choice of trying of boost her man’s ego that makes her a contended (I mean truly satisfied) home maker or a simple supportive wage earner.
Haven’t we seen her cook elaborately for the family and yet eat the left-overs truly happily? She finds the best pleasure possible in feeding a hungry tummy in her husband and kids. It is delight to be a great cook and bliss to be appreciated for her efforts. She seemingly effortlessly observes fasts for the wellbeing or simply a promotion at work. Doesn't she encourage you to raise from rock bottom to cloud nine, even if it had to include many smooth lies?!
What about the selfless love and the sleepless nights? What about the hurried and tired she sweating in the kitchen to make your favorite bajji when you got back from work? What about the tired reproach when she picks up your dirty socks and used clothes from the restroom, verandah and half-eaten lunch boxes from inside your bag? What about she effortlessly handing over the exact same receipt that you were searching for two hours? What about creating a place that you would love to call home? She created the balance in you by balancing everything from her wishes to his, from her reasons to his and from her intellect to his lack of pluck.
I celebrate womanhood whether she is in the backyard or the boardroom for everything was a choice.
You know where to send the Thank You note if you have / had a lovely place called your home !
Monday, October 24, 2005
Uncles, aunties and grandmother were engaged in a chat session. It was a period of catching up, many of the family, had just then reached Madras, assembling in the family home at our grandma's. My cousins and I, four of us, @ an average age less than 10 were locked up in a room, as we were too noisy for them to be heard from each other.
In those time, when cordless was unknown, having more than one connection for a phone line was luxury, when people from the neighborhood would use your phone in emergency, phone majestically occupied the space in the outermost of halls, popularly called the "phone room" in our grand ma's place. This room, a tiny 10x10 room, which no one used except to make calls was the hottest of the rooms, anyone dared to live in. Now, this was the room into which we were locked. It was our paradise. The place saw us play dark room, kannamoochi, antakshari, Trade, trump, 56, play drama for Shakespearean "Merchant of Venice", which happened to be in our English texts, in which we made poor Sandhya to play the wicked Shylock !! Every brick in this room, knew more of our joys, fights, games and us better than any other entity outside of it.
Though we were a little upset that the 'elders' had actually locked us here, there were no complaints, we loved being there, enjoying the sweltering heat that heated up further, as our energy soured. It was the time, when cable televisions had started making entry into the market. Sun TV was evolving. Sun TV which was still telecasted only between 6: 30 pm and 11 pm had some special programmes for occasions like Diwali, New Year and Pongal. It was novel for us kids to watch Pepsi Uma on the screen talking to people around the world, playing songs of their choice etc. Also, we were kids who were meeting after a long time. Unlike the elders who had some catching up to do, we were "GO" from the minute 1. Immediately we would start playing, from where we left the last time we met, half a calender year ago. :-) Those were the kid like qualities.
The frustration of having gotten locked up and the excitement of speaking on the Sun TV programmes, had mischievous chemical reactions in us that led us to what we did. We played a drama, this time not Shakespearean but one of our own to vent out our spite and excitement. This program, that we were trying to create and market was an innovative one. "Our Pepsi Uma" was suppose to pick random people from the telephone book, and announce that the called was one among the lucky few to who Uma was calling and that the program would feature her talking and play the song of the her choice in a fortnights time, when the program was suppose to be on air. That was too much of an incentive to get any next door man up on his adrenaline. We took the roles of Pepsi Uma and started calling random people from the Telephone Directory. Now, I appreciate why it costs bucks to get your name ticked off the directory here in the US. It was euphoria for us, as the random people we picked had amazing enthusiasm to talk with Pepsi Uma.
Seemingly a middle aged woman and the mother of a college going son said "Edho en payyan paduvan oorvasi oorvasi nnu .. andha paatu podunga.. ayoo ipponnu paathu en payyan veetle illiye.. avan ketta romba kushi ayiduvanga.. nethu dhan avan kitte ketten, yaaru da orrvasi, therinja ponna nu, edho paattu nnu solli , en vayathula paala vaathaan". It was the time, when Shankar's hit Gentleman was in box-office
Someone, lost in the myriad of songs in this age, that made no sense to this poor old man picked "Oru Naal Podhuma". He was so happy that he actually sang the song for the world-wide audience. Little did he know that his songs were for the private audience locked up in the "Phone Room"
We also had some responses like, "what ? " , "who ?", "wrong number ", that we promptly disconnected. There were a few who did not know of Pepsi Uma or Sun TV , quite surprising !! ?? that we again disconnected, because we did not want to do much of the talking. There was not as much fun in as it is in letting people talk with pushed up frenzy, ardor and intensity and passively listening to it !! The phone was a such a hot item in the heated "Phone Room" that it kept going between us, trying to listen to the pumped up vigor ! For once, we stuck with the rule, of making no noise.
Even today, 15 years later, as I lean back, think and want to be warped in time, the voices of the people of Madras, will bring tears to my eyes, tears of a little guilt, a little victory, a little magic and a little joy. Those were the ages, that we knew no fear, no limits and when no means of joy was wrong ?!
In those time, when cordless was unknown, having more than one connection for a phone line was luxury, when people from the neighborhood would use your phone in emergency, phone majestically occupied the space in the outermost of halls, popularly called the "phone room" in our grand ma's place. This room, a tiny 10x10 room, which no one used except to make calls was the hottest of the rooms, anyone dared to live in. Now, this was the room into which we were locked. It was our paradise. The place saw us play dark room, kannamoochi, antakshari, Trade, trump, 56, play drama for Shakespearean "Merchant of Venice", which happened to be in our English texts, in which we made poor Sandhya to play the wicked Shylock !! Every brick in this room, knew more of our joys, fights, games and us better than any other entity outside of it.
Though we were a little upset that the 'elders' had actually locked us here, there were no complaints, we loved being there, enjoying the sweltering heat that heated up further, as our energy soured. It was the time, when cable televisions had started making entry into the market. Sun TV was evolving. Sun TV which was still telecasted only between 6: 30 pm and 11 pm had some special programmes for occasions like Diwali, New Year and Pongal. It was novel for us kids to watch Pepsi Uma on the screen talking to people around the world, playing songs of their choice etc. Also, we were kids who were meeting after a long time. Unlike the elders who had some catching up to do, we were "GO" from the minute 1. Immediately we would start playing, from where we left the last time we met, half a calender year ago. :-) Those were the kid like qualities.
The frustration of having gotten locked up and the excitement of speaking on the Sun TV programmes, had mischievous chemical reactions in us that led us to what we did. We played a drama, this time not Shakespearean but one of our own to vent out our spite and excitement. This program, that we were trying to create and market was an innovative one. "Our Pepsi Uma" was suppose to pick random people from the telephone book, and announce that the called was one among the lucky few to who Uma was calling and that the program would feature her talking and play the song of the her choice in a fortnights time, when the program was suppose to be on air. That was too much of an incentive to get any next door man up on his adrenaline. We took the roles of Pepsi Uma and started calling random people from the Telephone Directory. Now, I appreciate why it costs bucks to get your name ticked off the directory here in the US. It was euphoria for us, as the random people we picked had amazing enthusiasm to talk with Pepsi Uma.
Seemingly a middle aged woman and the mother of a college going son said "Edho en payyan paduvan oorvasi oorvasi nnu .. andha paatu podunga.. ayoo ipponnu paathu en payyan veetle illiye.. avan ketta romba kushi ayiduvanga.. nethu dhan avan kitte ketten, yaaru da orrvasi, therinja ponna nu, edho paattu nnu solli , en vayathula paala vaathaan". It was the time, when Shankar's hit Gentleman was in box-office
Someone, lost in the myriad of songs in this age, that made no sense to this poor old man picked "Oru Naal Podhuma". He was so happy that he actually sang the song for the world-wide audience. Little did he know that his songs were for the private audience locked up in the "Phone Room"
We also had some responses like, "what ? " , "who ?", "wrong number ", that we promptly disconnected. There were a few who did not know of Pepsi Uma or Sun TV , quite surprising !! ?? that we again disconnected, because we did not want to do much of the talking. There was not as much fun in as it is in letting people talk with pushed up frenzy, ardor and intensity and passively listening to it !! The phone was a such a hot item in the heated "Phone Room" that it kept going between us, trying to listen to the pumped up vigor ! For once, we stuck with the rule, of making no noise.
Even today, 15 years later, as I lean back, think and want to be warped in time, the voices of the people of Madras, will bring tears to my eyes, tears of a little guilt, a little victory, a little magic and a little joy. Those were the ages, that we knew no fear, no limits and when no means of joy was wrong ?!
Friday, October 07, 2005
Mani Aji
My grand ma .. my cousins and I would affectionately call her mani aji. She lives with my cousins in Triplicane, Madras now. It is the house that we virtually grew up, though I actually only visited during my holidays.. She is my maternal grandmother.
Just as I think of her, many memories flow over.... Many many fond memories, today I am thousands of miles away from her. I speak to her may be once a month, definitely this soul whose every breath and wish is our well being deserves more than that.
Her life made her strong. She was born rich, can you believe, she was taken around on a parade, around the city on a palanquin, to celebrate her first birthday. Born with the silver spoon, she lost her father when she was 5. She grew with no siblings. But she had plenty of cousins who she would dearly call Anna. Her mom, thankfully was well off to bring her up. According to the custom, she was married off in style when she was only 13. She would recount, she was made to agree to the wedding saying " Adi Tissue Saree vangi tharuvanga di" .. not that she would know how to disagree with what elders told her.. And there you go she was happily married. Her first child, when she was 15, passed away with in 10 days of its birth. btw, that was my uncle. He was a blue baby. Then they discovered that she had high blood pressure. She has been on pills ever since. With heavy treatment of pills, she delivered four children, the second of them is my mom. But her blood pressure would not come down - till date. When she was 29, the worst thing happened. Her husband, my grand-father passed away peacefully in sleep. He was not known to have any illness. It was a total shock, the least expected. Its hard to imagine how she could stand though those times and successfully bring up four children, the eldest of whom was 14 when this happened. The youngest was a mere 5. A lady in the 30s, with hardly a 8th standard schooling, high blood pressure, no means of income and four children to take care of came out of her immense grief. She is a woman of extreme courage, faith in God and goodness epitome. She is the most successful woman I have heard / come across. To me, she is larger in life than the most intelligent people that walked this earth.
She stands tall .. in my mind now and always.
Her tribulations continued.. She was operated on umpteen times, her uterus, her gall bladder and her appendix. "Virtually, my stomach is empty", she would jokingly recount. She taught me to laugh at my troubles, smile at their smallness in comparison to God, to His strength, to His power and to my faith.
She followed a custom of lighting "Shravana Deepa". She would light one for each son /daughter/son-in-law/daughter-in-law/grandkids she has to take care of. A month typically has 2 Shravana Deepa days, when she would light these lamps for the well-being of us. Every time, a kid was added to the family, her son got married, lamp count would get incremented. Her beliefs and prayers go a long way into making us what we are. She would carry with her, this set of lamps when ever she goes out of town, to make sure she does not miss Sharavana Deepa. She has not missed one yet. If she is too busy, she would get up at 4 am and finish it before the world wakes up and looks for her help.
Every summer holidays, I would come to stay with her and we would make great friends. She will take me to the market in the evenings, to the temple and to the beach. We would read "Washington il Kalyanam" together. We would buy mango and make thokku. I would help her make 'vadaam' and stealthily eat the maavu kept for 'vadaam'. Then, we would walk up to the terrace to spread it out. It was a lovely experience. We will boil water, make Rasna and store it in the first fridge we had. We would go to Hindu High School to listen to "Katha" recited by some Shastri. I hardly remember their names.. but I remember enjoying the evening sitting in the sand and making hills. When there is an interesting scene in the story, like Sita being carried away or Kumbakarnan coming to the battle, I would get excited and listen with awe to the story. We would shop for flowers and she would make a long flower plait for me and make me a bride ! When I grew up, she respected my changing tastes, she would happily buy me a pair of Jeans at Rex Fashions, would not force me to have flower plait ( I miss it today though ). She got us (my cousins and I) permission to watch the India vs Pakistan Independence cup match played at Chepauk. This was my last school summers. Off to work, summer holidays stopped coming. :( I get to meet her less often than I would want to.
She is well informed, talks about politics, cricket, cinema, TNPCEE, F1, H1 and GRE. In ways she does not know, she has influenced me positively. While I was still at school and did not have any big plans about under-grad, I over heard her say to one of her friends, that I was a bright student and that she was looking forward to seeing me make it big. Not sure if I were even close to it, but it kindle my enthusiasm to study. So long, a lethargic student started to at least work hard. She would build contacts around our extended family with people whose sons/daughters are 16 and ask them to guide me !!!! Sounds interesting here ? She sure did. We have had hot debates on non-vegetarianism, alcoholism etc and have gladly lost. Today I am a vegan !!
I sure owe her a lot, I owe her more than what I have given her. The influences they have made on me is profound and irreversible, the power that she had taught me a lot of things. It taught me I am not lost until I think I am. And I can refuse to think I am. What a bold and accomplished lady she has been.. a spring of energy, love, tenderness, poise and will power. I thank YOU for the wonderful opportunity I have to be her grand-daughter.
Love you mani aji.
Just as I think of her, many memories flow over.... Many many fond memories, today I am thousands of miles away from her. I speak to her may be once a month, definitely this soul whose every breath and wish is our well being deserves more than that.
Her life made her strong. She was born rich, can you believe, she was taken around on a parade, around the city on a palanquin, to celebrate her first birthday. Born with the silver spoon, she lost her father when she was 5. She grew with no siblings. But she had plenty of cousins who she would dearly call Anna. Her mom, thankfully was well off to bring her up. According to the custom, she was married off in style when she was only 13. She would recount, she was made to agree to the wedding saying " Adi Tissue Saree vangi tharuvanga di" .. not that she would know how to disagree with what elders told her.. And there you go she was happily married. Her first child, when she was 15, passed away with in 10 days of its birth. btw, that was my uncle. He was a blue baby. Then they discovered that she had high blood pressure. She has been on pills ever since. With heavy treatment of pills, she delivered four children, the second of them is my mom. But her blood pressure would not come down - till date. When she was 29, the worst thing happened. Her husband, my grand-father passed away peacefully in sleep. He was not known to have any illness. It was a total shock, the least expected. Its hard to imagine how she could stand though those times and successfully bring up four children, the eldest of whom was 14 when this happened. The youngest was a mere 5. A lady in the 30s, with hardly a 8th standard schooling, high blood pressure, no means of income and four children to take care of came out of her immense grief. She is a woman of extreme courage, faith in God and goodness epitome. She is the most successful woman I have heard / come across. To me, she is larger in life than the most intelligent people that walked this earth.
She stands tall .. in my mind now and always.
Her tribulations continued.. She was operated on umpteen times, her uterus, her gall bladder and her appendix. "Virtually, my stomach is empty", she would jokingly recount. She taught me to laugh at my troubles, smile at their smallness in comparison to God, to His strength, to His power and to my faith.
She followed a custom of lighting "Shravana Deepa". She would light one for each son /daughter/son-in-law/daughter-in-law/grandkids she has to take care of. A month typically has 2 Shravana Deepa days, when she would light these lamps for the well-being of us. Every time, a kid was added to the family, her son got married, lamp count would get incremented. Her beliefs and prayers go a long way into making us what we are. She would carry with her, this set of lamps when ever she goes out of town, to make sure she does not miss Sharavana Deepa. She has not missed one yet. If she is too busy, she would get up at 4 am and finish it before the world wakes up and looks for her help.
Every summer holidays, I would come to stay with her and we would make great friends. She will take me to the market in the evenings, to the temple and to the beach. We would read "Washington il Kalyanam" together. We would buy mango and make thokku. I would help her make 'vadaam' and stealthily eat the maavu kept for 'vadaam'. Then, we would walk up to the terrace to spread it out. It was a lovely experience. We will boil water, make Rasna and store it in the first fridge we had. We would go to Hindu High School to listen to "Katha" recited by some Shastri. I hardly remember their names.. but I remember enjoying the evening sitting in the sand and making hills. When there is an interesting scene in the story, like Sita being carried away or Kumbakarnan coming to the battle, I would get excited and listen with awe to the story. We would shop for flowers and she would make a long flower plait for me and make me a bride ! When I grew up, she respected my changing tastes, she would happily buy me a pair of Jeans at Rex Fashions, would not force me to have flower plait ( I miss it today though ). She got us (my cousins and I) permission to watch the India vs Pakistan Independence cup match played at Chepauk. This was my last school summers. Off to work, summer holidays stopped coming. :( I get to meet her less often than I would want to.
She is well informed, talks about politics, cricket, cinema, TNPCEE, F1, H1 and GRE. In ways she does not know, she has influenced me positively. While I was still at school and did not have any big plans about under-grad, I over heard her say to one of her friends, that I was a bright student and that she was looking forward to seeing me make it big. Not sure if I were even close to it, but it kindle my enthusiasm to study. So long, a lethargic student started to at least work hard. She would build contacts around our extended family with people whose sons/daughters are 16 and ask them to guide me !!!! Sounds interesting here ? She sure did. We have had hot debates on non-vegetarianism, alcoholism etc and have gladly lost. Today I am a vegan !!
I sure owe her a lot, I owe her more than what I have given her. The influences they have made on me is profound and irreversible, the power that she had taught me a lot of things. It taught me I am not lost until I think I am. And I can refuse to think I am. What a bold and accomplished lady she has been.. a spring of energy, love, tenderness, poise and will power. I thank YOU for the wonderful opportunity I have to be her grand-daughter.
Love you mani aji.
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