My unconventional (elder) sis

'The power of your subconscious mind', the title read. I was engrossed in reading, when my sis walked in.

So, finally, she had woken up from the long last night's sleep, which started like, around 2 AM and ended now, at 11 AM. She watched 3 movies the last night, one after the other, glued to the television like she never saw one before. That was the only thing she seemed to like, since she landed at home for holidays this time. She wasn't interested in anything else, be it bathing, changing clothes, going out, and blah.

I, on the other side, used to be glued to self help books and auto-biographies. It was the breakup season, and what else could be more soothing?

I wasn't allowed to question her newly found deep interest in the television. My initial queries were disregarded and shrugged off. She just mentioned something like, 'Hostelites regarded the television as a sacred entity, which is rarely available and to be valued' or something.

I thought she had a point and dropped my further queries. No wonder I dint go to the television as a resort, as I was home and had it at my disposal.

If now, self help books, that too when I'm bored, would only make things worse. I have been enlightened now, about the healing effects of movies, friends, gossips and rides, which is found nowhere else, spare the self help books. (No offense intended)

My sister had known this earlier, and may be she thought of me as an amateur in the art of life, being carried away by the momentary pleasures got by reading books, unaware of the eternal bliss that movies and friends could bring about!

Sis really had an aversion to such books. Nausea, vertigo and wheezing would begin whenever she saw or heard of one. But now, this morning, she looked afresh and I thought I can pour over some drops of philosophy on her this time.

I called her to sit besides me and said, 'Listen, this is something you should rrreally take a look at. Its about the subconscious mind. You know what, its really amazing!'

Just the title and intro were enough for her, and the expression on her face made me feel she is about to puke. I pestered her to let me read out a para. I narrated how the belief that we carry in our subconscious about our ability to do or not do things, actually affects our actions, and that we could train the subconscious to believe what we want to believe, about our capablities.

She replied in a single sentence 'Gosh!! Dint you know that before? Should someone tell you its so??' -- and gave me a god-save-this-fool kind of look and walked off, grabbing the Cosmopolitan from the table.

I wasn't surprised and went back to my reading. Later, I browsed my book rack for some stuff which would interest her. In fact, I loved to please her. I cooked well, and prepared new recipes for her to taste, and sometimes even tried my stint at make-up on her face. I would turn out unsuccessful as she found everything unsurprising most of the times.

I finally grabbed 'Wings of Fire' and '7 habits' and went searching for her. She sat in front of the TV, relishing granny's breakfast preparation and browsing the channels. I cuddled up to her and said, ' You know what, these ones are awesome. You will love APJ! And 7 Habits is better than You can win!'. It dint work, and she turned back to TV. I dint pester her much, as I had been chased around the compound and beaten up by her not so long ago, for doing the same.

I have always loved C programming. I loved the way Yashwant Kanetkar wrote. I had got cracking on a chapter on functions that evening. My sis came in after her evening snacks. I dragged her to my table and went on, 'Listen, C programming is the awesome-est thing I have ever learnt. Let me teach you something!' and continued, ignoring the about-to-puke expression setting off on her face.

'Lets say you have 2 letters in 2 slots. You have to swap the 2 without using a third slot. Tell me how do you do it!'

She looked at me like she was worried about me, thinking that I have some serious problem.

I continued, 'See, you have to use something called a pointer for that. Let me explain you whats that'.

By that time, dad called her to savour some tender coconut water brought just for her all the way from our village. She escaped.

I was heart broken. I really thought I could make her love C programming. I mean, it could happen, though she was studying medicine, as me, being an engineering student, never got bored by her lectures on anatomy, paediatrics and what not. In fact I loved the long chats whenever she gave me discourses on all the wonderful things about the human body, and her experiences as a med student, the hostel, gossips and blah.

But now, when I tried to give her an intro of things in my profession, she never seemed to be interested. She ran away the moment whenever she saw a 'Let us C' or '7 habits' with me.

At bedtime that night, I showed her my new lip color which I had carefully chosen for myself. This was for college and parties, and I loved the color. It had a dark pink shade.

'Eew!! The color!! Are you trying to look like a slut?' she inquired.

I then showed her my new red-Nike sweatshirt. I had fallen in love with it at first sight, and made it mine, shelling out a 2K or something.

She declared: 'Looks like you flicked it from some coolie at the station!'

It was time to give up, and I went to bed, grabbing a Sheldon and a pencil. I had this habit of underlining the new words in a book, so that I can look up a dictionary later for their meaning.

My sis looked at me and went to the cupboard, searching for something. She came back to me after a while, with an eraser and a ruler, and held it out to me. She said, 'You could use the ruler to draw lines wherever you stop for the day, and even make boxes for the words instead of lines. It would be better.'

I burst out laughing, and then, she too. We laughed till we got tears. I could barely control it!! I laughed so much that my tummy ached!

Whatever time I spent with her, it was awesome.

She IS awesome!!

Believing in the obvious

People generally go by the 'obvious'. They believe in the obvious. Be it the nature of a person, or a scientific problem, when you are trying to figure out the cause or say, the effect.

Eccentricity or whatever trait it is in me, makes me think in some other way, though something inside me tells me you may be totally wrong.

Most of the times, I tend to distrust others' opinions about people, or things, which are based on their, (and even mine) common sense's judgement, which is again, the 'obvious' thing. Is it the stupidity in me to be something/someone 'different', or is it my intuition, or is it my belief in goodness in people, even when their actions say the opposite, that makes me do this, that tells me not to believe in the obvious, I don't know!

I have gone wrong so many times, by not trusting the 'obvious' and trying to search for some inner 'truth' which, in my belief, is hidden in the person, or in something. I have learnt my lessons so many times, but still, the paranoia continues!

Even when it comes to judging my own capabilities to do something, I don't go by the obvious. I don't go by what already lies in front of me. The things that I have already been able to do and proved myself I can, or things I have failed in, showing myself, this is all I can do ~ I trust my beliefs more than these. I trust my dreams more than the reality!

Hope it pays off someday!!

Thoughts ...

Circumstances:

Do circumstances hinder your capabilities, or do they damage the mask of the so called capability, that we put on, and expose the real, vulnerable 'WE' to the world? I wonder!

In a way, they bring about a rendezvous of one with his own self.

Friend:

Life seems fun when with him

He makes you laugh till you cry, till you realize, how long it had been since you laughed your heart out, and how much you needed it.

A moment spent with him, fills your whole day with life.

You like him in spite of your differences.

You fight, you cry your heart out,you curse him, but then suddenly, you realize how long had it been since someone made you cry so much. You smile, now knowing what he means to you, for his words are enough to break you down, or even bring you back to life.

You know he prays for you, even when you walk away, breaking up.

Lust:

A life, which is just a deception of yourself and the world which sees you. You believe or force yourself to believe that you are loved and valued, when deep inside, you and only you, know the dark side of your life, the voidness in your life!

Dreams:

The place where I live.

The place that never lets me go back to reality.

Dreams are reality, for me. It has been so, till now.

I dream, I make them come true.

When I dream,I believe I'm already there. I believe I'm someone to be now revered!

Mania!

A WISH UNFULFILLED

It was sometime in my childhood days, may be when I was ten or eleven. I can still remember that evening, when I saw her. I was playing with my sister in front of our house in Mandya, when I spotted her in her red saree. She was walking to our house, from the far end of the road, with a small bundle. May be it was her clothes which she packed for her short trip, placed cautiously under her left arm. She was in her seventies, and was very thin. She walked slowly, trying to spot the house she had seen just once before.

Me and my sister, all excited, went inside and informed granny and mom “Siddamma is here! Siddamma is here!”

Siddamma was my maternal great grand mother’s sister. My granny and mom, when in village had grown up with her. They moved to Hassan from Adagur village in 1980s, when my mother, who was their only child, got married. My maternal great grand mother, Kaalamma , who was the elder sister of Siddamma, was with us till 1994. My mom and granny always tell me that I was her favourite. She supported me in my every squabble and complaint, and hugged and kissed me when somebody hurt me, and cursed those who hurt me, whoever it was. She had Asthma, and I and my sister had seen the doctor visit our house often, when at Hassan. She was too weak to walk, in her last few days. Granny helped her with everything. She was bed ridden for a long time and passed away when I was in my second standard, when I was too small to understand or comprehend the meaning of it.

Siddamma stayed back in Adagur when my family moved to Hassan and used to visit us occasionally. Whenever she visited us, she brought with her some coloured sweets and candies purchased for me and my sister in the ‘Halli jathre’ (village fair), which she preserved carefully till it reached us. She loved ‘seegesoppu’ and its sambhar, which my granny prepared for all of us. She brought some of it every time she visited us. Granny never missed to prepare ‘bellada coffee’ (coffee made with black jaggery) when they met. It was their all-time favourite, and they enjoyed it together, when we kids, flicked pieces of black jaggery and savoured it with friends.

After that, we moved to Mandya in 1996, when I was in my fourth standard at school. Though It took time for me and my sister to get adjusted with the new crowd at school and the new teachers, within a year we were well acquainted with most of them, and had started loving the new place and new friends.

Siddamma was with us during our house warming ceremony at Mandya. Along with her, Swami (A friend of mom at Adagur), his wife and daughter had come all the way from Adagur, to help our family shift to Mandya. I still remember them, working all day on the day of function, dressed in panche and sarees, and with a bright mark of ‘vibhuti’ (a mark worn by Lingayats in Karnataka) on their foreheads, which loudly proclaimed their fear and love to Lord Shiva. I admired their helping nature, and their activeness, as they were not our blood relatives, but still offered their full help in whatever way they could. Swami even carried our heavy Television set on his lap, all the way for 3 hours in our hired taxi from Hassan to Mandya, on the day before the function. It has been years now, and we have lost touch with them. But those memories are unforgettable for me, which were a part of my wonderful childhood time.

After the function Siddamma had not visited us till that day. She had informed mom and dad a week ago over phone that she was coming. It was 1997, and landlines, as even now, were rare in villages. She had asked some friend in the telephone exchange at Adagur, who knew Dad, to call us up for her. She talked to mom and granny and told them she wanted to visit us. She had also told them about a wish of hers. Since her childhood, she had always wanted to see Mysore palace, but hadn’t got a chance even once. She was now in her seventies, alone in the village, with nobody of hers around. May be she really felt lonely there. She told them that she wanted to visit the place and us. Mom said she will try to arrange for the trip and said she was always welcome.

Siddamma had left for Mandya, to meet us, a week after that. I admire her courage and liveliness at that age. She had to first board a bus from Adagur to Hassan, and then from Hassan to Mandya, for 3 hours. She walked to our house after she got down at Mandya. It was may be a kilometre or more, but she had managed to cross the main road and come down till our road. I wondered why my parents didn’t pick her up. May be they were really busy at office, I thought. Now that they had returned home, they went out and received her. I and my sister were really happy to see her after a year or more. We went up to her, running, searching her for her bag and the sweets.

She freshened up and gave us the sweets she had brought for us. We had dinner together in our room that night. The next day, mom and dad discussed with her about the trip to Mysore. I looked at them with my eyes wide open, waiting for them to decide. Since our birth, I and my sister had been brought up as ‘indoor’ kind of children, never allowed to go on school trips with friends, never allowed to join dance class or a school sports team. Mom made us sit in front of her every evening after school and watched us do our homework. Sister used to get the scolding and beatings first, seeing which, I would get alerted and open the big trunk allotted to me for my books, and start scribbling something, quietly. This had continued from Hassan, where I was born and did my lower primary, till my entire schooling at Mandya. So, Mysore, which was only 1 hour away from Mandya, was a place I didn’t remember seeing too many times. May be we went there once, long back, when my always busy parents had decided to holiday for a change, one nice day.

It was a holiday time again, after so many years, and I was looking forward for it all excited. This time it was more for Siddamma and her little wish than for myself. We spent our time at home with her playing games together and listening to granny and her talking about their village and their stories.

Three days passed, but my parents could not make time out of their busy schedule. Siddamma waited patiently. May be after that, she felt she was disturbing dad and mom, and decided to head back to Adagur. But she was as happy as she was when she came. She politely told all of us that we could surely go some other time. I and sis were sad, but had to say goodbye to her. Dad and mom dropped her back at the bus stand.

We returned to our usual routine of homework and studies.

May be it was a month after she left. We got a call from Adagur saying that she passed away the last night while asleep in her bed. She was living alone in her small house at Adagur and had no one from our family around her. Dad and mom left to Adagur to perform the last rites. I and sis were sad and wanted to go, but were not allowed, as we had no holidays at school then.

Parents returned from there after a day or two. Me and my sister quietly continued our studies. As days passed, we forgot her and the pain.

It has been more than 15 years. But, even this day, it hurts me when I remember her small wish of a picnic to the Mysore palace, and that we could not fulfil it. As I grew up at Hassan, I was not as close to her as I am to my granny. But her memories and her small unfulfilled wish bring me tears, even this day, even now.

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