Reeling

Frame by frame
Stitched by feeling
Trimmed with pain
Frayed somewhere
Threadbare elsewhere
Rich and luxuriant
Colourful and picturesque
Or sepia tinted
With fading memories

Life, doesn’t it just
Leave you

Reeling?
Sometimes?

26 May, 2013

Waiting in the Wings

I’ve been understudy too long
Even though you assure me
I’m leading lady, for you, always…

Do I take you at face-value?
Or perhaps read between the lines
Of your facetious compliment?

Compliment, it is, I presume.
I’ve lived the role, you know;
Once too often.

Messed up, sure, sometimes
But never the scripted ones.
Only when I tried to improvise.

That should, perhaps, tell us a story.
Are we too written in?
Ready to be written off?

Or shall I ever, but always
Watch her rule the hearts
Of those who hang on her every nuance?

While I am waiting in the wings?

 

 

 

 

 

 

18 May 2013
Picture, Courtesy Google Image Search

7; Because the Zero does not count :)

No matter how hot the summer is, and the how delayed the rains are, no matter that schools open partially, and fully by the end of the month, May is a beautiful month for us. It’s when sometimes, the Thrissur Pooram happens (not this year though 🙂 ), it’s the annual Spring-of-Feelings-And-Emotions for Mothers’ Day. It’s the time to celebrate how much younger my mother gets, each year.

Mummy’s birthday. She’s featured here, (link) three years ago. The thing isn’t that I’ve been stumped for more to write, but that she shies away from the mush I pour out here. So I have to temper it; with a bit of difficulty, I tell you. But then, this year again, is special 🙂 The title says it all, if you get the gist of my absurd way of putting it. But honest, nevertheless 🙂

There is very little my mother cannot do. That’s a fact. Of course, you know what I mean. Coming from a huge joint family has, I suppose, made each of the members of her family aware of the need to cater for large numbers. For whatever. Be it cooking up a storm, accomodating that many at home, taking care of guests, organizing an occasion, not just at home, but the neighbours, and family and friends’ places… she’s there! And not just in the kitchen too!

She’s event manager, Supervisor, hands-in-it Chef and Cleaner, Hostess, Grand-Hostess (at her grandkids’ weddings 😛 ), Masseur, Carer, Counsellor, I’m-Always-There-For-You-er, with the gentlest and biggest shoulder there is, to rest your tired head, and bawl away. Not that she’ll take much of that nonsense. She’ll put you straight, and not let you wallow or linger in your self-righteous pity 😆 ! Each time, I keep wondering, who IS there for her? Her faith, her family (though I do wonder if at all we could ever be a solace… having always taken from her!)

Mummy, pink, N’cheriamma, golden-yellow, Veliamma – white 🙂
The Trimoorthi 🙂

Going on seventy, she still the most energetic person I know. From the time she wakes up early in the morning, somewhere at 5 am, or earlier 🙂 , to her walk to and fro, to the Temple, for which she walks through paddy fields, up and down a little hillock, in small, but sprightly steps. I’ve always felt that is what has been the mainstay of her sheer life. That walk, that faith. And one she does not preach about, but lives, for us to see, know and if at all, emulate. No preaching. 🙂

After the day begins, and the chores are attended to, the midday meal is done, Appu and Paru, and sometimes my Kutan and Chinnu, if they are there, fed and settled down, you’d think it’s time for a power nap at least. But no, not at all. She’s around, walking through the compound, perhaps catching up with a neighbour, reading something, or watching a part of her favourite film on TV (for an extremely short period of time – she has ADHD, where TV is concerned 😛 )

After 3 pm, it’s bikki time (biscuits… for which Paru would have already started wheedling :D) and then a walk with them around the fields in front of the house. The evening time, sometimes, a walk again to the temple, a visit perhaps to a neighbours house, sitting around outside, on the Jhoola :), planning for the next day… sometimes catching up with her children and her siblings by phone… there is never enough time for her to do the things she wants to!

After a knee surgery, in 2011, unlike most people who might have accepted limited mobility and not dared to push it, she was not deterred from doing what she really wanted to. A visit to the shrine at Vaishno Devi, on foot, to and fro, with her eldest son and wife, the next year.. She was sixty nine then. I’m stupefied, even to this day, by that.

She walks on wings of faith, for sure, The certainty of her belief has been a succor to all who know her. Her generosity of spirit, and deed are legendary amongst family, friends and the neighbourhood. Lovingly called “Sharath-ammamma” (Pisharath – belonging to the Pisharody House 🙂 – Ammamma, Amma’s Amma – grandmother) by most of the young people there, she knows practically every family, their kids, grand-kids and is generally looked up to, for all sorts of reasons. Nobody there is surprised. The goodwill created is just that – sheer goodness of the heart.

I know I’ll never be even a fraction of who she is- that is a fact. But just that we have been touched by the loveliness, and have the good fortune to have been a part of her, and have her as part of us, that is benediction enough.

For the seven year old’s energy she has, not minding the zeroes in her life at all… may, May she be blessed with good health and happiness and Peace of Mind (she says that is a Myth – in my previous post on her I remember writing this :D) and love of her dear ones, always.

Birthday gurl 🙂 Circa 2006, Paru being just adopted the previous month 🙂

Happy Birthday Mummy! Lots of Love, always, but always, from all of us.

14 May, 2013, for 15th May, 2013 (Mummy’s Birthday 🙂 )

Edited to add:
Pictures from today 🙂

M is for Mummy
M is for Madhavikutty 🙂

 

🙂

Neram – More than Time-Pass :)

Disclaimer: Nothing in this non-review does justice to the film :D! Go, see it 🙂

Ever since I saw the ‘Pistah‘ song go viral on youtube, via Facebook, and ever since Sandeep Varma told me about it having his brother, and himself in it, I’ve been waiting to see it. The rave reviews, most of them, that came by, especially Govind’s (a favourite film critic :D) clinched it. I had to see it! NERAM! (Malayalam/ Tamil bilingual movie)

Neram means time. What is funny is that I finally understood why Neram was written the way it was when the opening credits came in 🙂 You might understand better, when you see this 🙂 (Did you?)

Time, while it might mean eternity, and endless, having no beginning or any foreseeable close, you would think, well, where is this going to take you, in the limited time you have, a couple of hours, at the most? (It IS a Malayalam movie, after all 😀 ) You bought Time, paid the tickets, and you expect the time to pass without your having known it did. Well, if you can understand Malayalam well, and Tamil, (though sub-titling is there) ‘Neram’ is the movie for you.

The opening line of the credits, before the Credits itself, well… that actually says it all, though you’d be hard put to find the evidence, per se 😀 The director Alphonse Putharen quotes from Tarantino:

“I steal from every movie ever made.”

The film unfolds quickly enough, all the way from the U S of A, in graphics to the Hero’s predicament of having been given the pink slip. Having to take care of the expenses for his sister’s wedding soon leads him to borrow from the nefarious notorious bad bad bad man Vatti Raja. He’s been given enough time to repay the money, which of course, he cannot… BUT, fates smile on him and he manages to get the money in TIME. However, a sleight of the hand, of time itself, and his whole world spins out of control! It IS a moment quite quite out of step with time, which he has nothing left of. He has his girlfriend to run away with, money to pay Vatti Raja, money to pay his brother-in-law, and … no money, no time left. So what happens?

It’s all happening, in each frame. There are no maudlin, senti senti scenes, nothing to take the pace off your pulse, no stops to marshall your forces, or to breathe in between the all the running, that even you do with the characters. It’s amazing, the pace, the race, following the ball that was set in motion! All in the space of one day.

I went to this movie, for the first paragraph reasons, yes, but more so for Nivin Pauly. And he did not disappoint at all! He’s the guy-next-door, who’s in love with a childhood sweetheart, Nazriya, and they were to have been married, except for the fact that he lost his job, and her father, Lalu Alex, decided he could not, since he was jobless. Cliche, perhaps, but the whole thing is treated in the most natural way. Yes, you might have seen this somewhere, (Where? Where? Where? You don’t have time to spend on that, because the next chase is happening!)

The poster I’ve shared at the beginning does not include the young female lead, who is pretty and can act. I mean really. Not just a pretty face. Nazriya. They looked good together, Nivin and Nazriya. And even the romancing was quite fresh 🙂

The BGM was great 🙂  The editing was superb. I found the “Vantage Point”-like touch extremely appropriate 🙂 This here is a non-review, because I am not familiar with names, and people who inhabit the world of entertainment. I shall leave all of that to the serious film  critics. This here is my experience of having watched a most entertaining film. One I would certainly recommend. Eminently watchable.

I do enjoy a GOOD MOVIE. That, this is.

14 May, 2013
Online
After getting home through Traffic snarls, which were quite worth it because of the movie.
After sitting in the very first row of the Theatre, right under the screen, in front of a crowd that would not stop cheering, but did at the right places…
After enjoying a film so very much, I had to. 🙂 Write. This.
Pictures, courtesy Google Image Search 😀

Just Another Day…

… or was it? What day was it? Not Sunday again?

She groaned into her pillow, wishing it were Monday, or any of the days except Sunday.

On all those other days she had to get up and get everything ready for her children, her husband and of course for herself, as they rushed about getting ready to go their separate ways for a day of dedicated work. Hah. All of them but her. Her dedicated work began and never ended, did it? But, at least she did not have to endure their presence in the house.

She remembered how it used to be; her children hanging on to her maxi, as she went to work at three different houses. The ladies of those houses always accommodated her kids and ensured they had enough to eat; books to take to school, and even helped out with uniforms and what little fees needed to be paid at the Government School they attended. They even bought her medicines, especially when she bruised or was sick because of the wonderful care her husband took of her. She sighed.

And then, one day, her kids grew up. Did not need her. Never visited the houses she worked at. They forgot the paths they once walked upon. They completed college, got jobs, white collar ones of course, and berated her for going on as a domestic help. How could she tell them she was more part of the families of those houses than she would ever be, at her own?

Every day, diligently, she’d still cater for her children and the husband. He worked too, but never had she seen his money run their house. She had those dreams, that once her son grew up to be a man, he’d at least get his father to share. Like father … she stopped herself. He was young still. Only twenty. He could change. She prayed he would, though hope shrivelled inside, in the drought of love and concern.

Her daughter, the older one, was well on her way to becoming the very antithesis of her own self. Self assertive, pushy, arrogant and quite discourteous to everyone, especially her mother. Anger lay close to the surface in their interactions. The daughter with her plans for herself, quite oblivious to the quiet suffering. She had dreams, the mother did, of the day when a pro-active daughter and mother duo would make things right at home, and make her husband accountable. The tables had turned quite suddenly. Now she was brought to book by father and daughter for asking them to contribute to household expenses…

And to think that each new day, all these years past, she would, with deep devotion and utter certainty pronounce to the Chechis at whose houses she worked, that one day, one day they would earn, and ensure that there was a bit of burden lifted off her shoulders. Her dreams quietly shattered one by one. After a point she stopped caring about them. She did what she always did best. Kept on with her vocation.

Wearily, she turned on her back, and peered at the clock on the wall, seen faintly in the light from the street lamp just outside their house, that came in through the uncurtained window. Five O’clock. Today was going to be worse. This Sunday, her husband’s sister and family of four daughters, three sons-in-law and five grandchildren were to visit. And sure as hell, she wasn’t going to get any help. She’d already asked for the day off from the Chechis. In a few hours they’d be here. She should start now itself.

A bath and prayers followed by the humdrum Kitchen work made her even more melancholic. Why couldn’t she assert herself more? She ought to. She’d brought up kids who could say no so easily. And put their foot down. Be stubborn and single-minded in their objective. Did they learn it from her? So why could she not? In three hours, all the time mulling over what she needed to do, she had finished her cooking and cleaning. Setting up everything on the table, and on the kitchen counter of the place she had lovingly come to make her own, she quickly made up her mind, and followed through, before she could fall prey to anxiety.

She woke her husband, and children.

I have to go, she said. It’s time. Their blank stares further strengthened her resolve.

But you said they gave you a day off, he said. And my sister and her family, what about them?

Well, what about them, she asked. I’ve made everything they need, and you all are here to entertain the family. She’s always thought I was too superior anyway  and I don’t want to disappoint her by being better than I could!

They spluttered in rage. Ranted.

Quietly, she changed into her work clothes, and left, relieved. On the way out, she saw the Malayalam daily on the verandah. The front page had a picture of a mother and child, with a caption that translated – “Maatrudinaashamsagal”  (Greetings on Mother’s Day!)There is nothing that is greater than the security of a mother’s loving arms!”

Her spirits lifted. She wished herself, and walked briskly.

11 May, 2013, for 12 May 2013
Online
(Pic Courtesy Google Image Search)

Wishing all those whose nurturing has moulded souls to stand on their own two feet. To all those Mothers who know of nothing, but the affection that becomes them. To my own mother, my father 🙂 Mummy, we don’t tell you this often enough, but we ought to. Other than  just on Mothers’ Day. You ARE the thread that holds us all together! Always, but always we’re blessed because we’re yours. I pray we’ll always be as blessed!