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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Yum Yum ! SluRp :P

I was once told that the food we eat influences our state of mind. I never thought it would turn out to be so damn true!

Stuck in a metro city life,with no close friends around, I find my days always monotonous and hmmm,, lifeless! Amidst all the work and running around here, things that enchant my senses once in a while, are very few. Aromas-- one of them! Few aromas tingle my senses and bring me back old memories, good or bad. Next thing in the list is food! And I am talking about spicy South Indian fooooooooood!

Though nothing can match my granny's preparations, this food at least reminds me of my hometown, gives me a feeling that my taste buds are still alive! [ Obviously, they will definitely be dormant other times cuz of that tasteless hostel food which we get to gulp in everyday, without much choice]

South Indian food makes me happy! and if it is with a person I like to be with, nothing like it! [ Miss my folks :( ]

Of late, I have started loving upma very much. Never did I like it so much when at home, for reasons every south Indian might know ;) Upma is considered to be an instant preparation suitable for those busy day mornings when nobody has enough patience to cook or relish the food. Ask any south Indian away from home about his opinion on upma! He would never say he hates it, though that would been the case if the fellow were at home :) It is such a state of mine here, where south Indian stale food might also taste good! [Haven't tried it for now, though ]

My other hard core favorite is the ever green [ or ever brown?] Masala Dosa! And of course, an assortment of Dosas!

Mysore masala dosa

Butter masala dosa

Onion masala dosa

Just yummy! Love to watch the butter go melting down on that crisp brown dosa as the waiter places it in front of me! Cant wait to relish the great taste. Just cant wait :P [ The butter would melt there otherwise. I gotta taste it with dosa soon you see. yum yum! slurp :P]
Udupi restaurant at Munirka, New Delhi is currently at the top of my high rating restaurants for dosas!

The thicker version of dosa from Kerala-- Utthappam, is my another favourite. Especially, Onion Utthappam from Adayar Anand Bhavan, Green Park, New Delhi.

And of course, who can forget our cute and soft Idlis :) Idli with Uddina Vada, Rava idli, Masala vada...all yum yum :P Adiga's at Bangalore is the best for idlis and akki rotti!

See you soon, yummy Bengalooru and Mysooru !

IT HaPPenED tO mE!! (AgAiN)!

My life has never been uneventful. Its either filled with excitement, if not total boredom to the point of driving me mad, so much that I act crazy, or either full of fights or rows with someone or the other. Well, if none of these exist, it can't be ME!!

At present, the weather's not so sunny.Dark clouds of anger are seen hovering in the sky, waiting to outburst in a heavy downpour of scowls and growls!! The cause, is a fellow put up in SP road, owning an #%$$%^ electronics shop, who sold me this micro controller development board, supposed to be worth Rs 1000, which I have realized of late, isn't worth even a penny. The cost was four times that in other shops, I found out late, and upon that, the emulator CD simply doesn't work! It looked rather old when I bought it, and my wonderful brain ignored the flaws and concentrated on its positive aspects, which now seem to be zero in number.

Worst part is that I cant tell this to Dad, as he warned me saying all good shops would be closed that holiday, before I went there. He will be mad at me for having wasted all that money ,including the bus fare, just because I wanted to go that day because mom said I shouldn't. Yeah! Now, I had to go because she told me not to! Thats how I have grown up to be, a rebel at home! It's fun usually, except situations like these which put me into embarrassment in front of dad and mom and anger on myself and that stupid fellow who assumed ( or understood?!) I was this bakra!

The shop's number is nowhere to be seen on the net.I have to wait a long week to do the needful! The Lord of mercy and honesty, deserves a praise and an abhisheka with his own wonderful board and the amazing cables which accompanied it.

And worst of it all, boo hoo ( and sob sob :( ) my project's on hold till I find another one :(.

A LoNg sO calleD 'HoLidAy' I eVeR hAd!

It's been a month since I landed in Bangalore. A long, boring month indeed. It takes an average 2 hours daily to reach my office here, where I have been undergoing this so-called 'summer training' for my Masters project. Well, I feel it isn't really so much fun out there to keep the same spirit alive in me, which I had in the initial few days, to get there early at dawn everyday. Yawn! For a lazy lass like me now, it's been really tough. I'm pushing it anyway, and it's almost done now, which has brought back the old spirit in me, as I eagerly wait for the session to end! gee :D

The most interesting part all this month here, were my trips in the city buses. You gotta try it to know it ;) Wake up at 6 A.M, rush to the shower, get ready, and pick up the heavy sack containing my beloved fatso laptop and a book on design, and rush to the bus stop with an empty tummy rumbling for food. This has been my daily routine since 3 weeks. Well, before going to the bus stop, I need to catch an auto to reach there on time! That means a minus INR 15 for me everyday :( And the same for return!

I get down at the bus stop and pay a 15 to the auto driver. In some unfortunate cases where the driver does not have a 5 rupee note to return me, it's a minus INR 20 ! :( Extremely unfortunate times are those when I hand him a hundred rupee note, for which I get curses in return, as its early morning, and no driver will have got so much money so early to pay me back! With the blessings of nearby shopkeepers, I finally get the change and I can board the bus to majestic now!

Buses are not so crowded early in the morning, and I tell you, these early mornings and late nights are the only good times to travel in city buses, unless you love swinging and swaying holding onto the supporting bars midway between the rows of seats, none of which is empty for your a** to rest upon!

'Some of the worst mistakes of my life, have been my hairstyles!'-- I read this somewhere sometime ago. How appropriate a sentence for my topic here! Let me tell you why ;)

As most of you might know, our BMTC buses have a separate set of seats in the front exclusively reserved for 'ladies'. Even the front half of the buses are usually occupied only by women. The bus conductors scowl at men who try to barge into that sacred portion of the bus where they are not allowed!

It was one of those lazy days when I woke up late and reached the bus stop a little late than usual. People crowded the big platform, all of them waiting for the same bus which would go to my destination. The bus entered, and within a wink, all the people waiting there a while ago, are gone! Already in, or hanging onto the doors or windows, pushing each other to get some space for themselves. I happened to enter the bus late and couldn't get a seat. I somehow managed to get myself some space at the front half, finally! I started my usual day dreaming, (the best time pass while travelling!) standing in the crowded bus, sandwiched between people, with my fatso bag being pushed to everyone's legs in turn like a football! All was well until an old lady on her way to a village nearby, boarded the bus and settled right behind me, standing. The bus had moved quite a long way by now, the conductor had finished giving tickets. So everyone was calm and peaceful in the front half, when the old lady standing behind me called me, patting on my back, saying something. I turned my ear towards her to hear what she was trying to tell me.

'You there, this portion is for ladies! Go back and stand there in the last half!' she said in a rather irritated way. Irritated she was, taking me for a boy with my short hairs, shirt and pants! Now, that was something really embarrassing for me, with everyone whosoever understood the fact, helplessly listening or either grinning at me! God! What would I tell her now! I dint know how I could answer her! So, I just pretended not to hear and tried to ignore her, hoping she would stop. But the lady wouldn't give up! It was her right to protest against this pervert trying to sneak into a crowd of women! How I hoped the conductor would come to my rescue, explaining her the fact! He hadn't said anything when I bought the ticket from him standing there, so I thought he understood I too was a lady, having all rights to stay where I was :) Somehow, he dint appear and even the people around were not not in a mood to help me out, so I had to bear it all the way, just praying inside that others don't join her in this, which would make it even worse for me! I could have been pushed out of the bus with all of them shouting at me, with me having nothing to explain them in a logical or sensible or whatsoever way!

Luckily, after a long while though, it ended when she heard the conductor address me as 'madam' , asking me to take my bag away from the walking space on the bus floor. Now, it was her turn to get embarrassed. I was relieved, and finally at peace with everyone silent now! I relaxed myself, swearing inside that I would never wear such a boyish dress again, complementing my hairstyle, in such places, that too!

Thanks to our salwar-kameez :) I could travel peacefully from the next day :)

To be continued