Random Verses

 

Tailor bird chirping

at the top of its voice

On top of the

fountaining bottlebrush

The placid dove quiet

On the adjoining branch,

Peaceful.

A leafy branch

Sweeps gently overhead

Its touch a benediction.

Death Anniversary

My sister passed away

On this day, six years ago.

It was sudden, hence shocking.

Each year we would have

prayers at her home, a havan,

All the family together

Marking this day as hers,

As much as her birthday.

Late that night, six years ago

When we heard the news, we drove

The several miles to her home

Not willing to believe its truth.

For the past two years

We mark the day privately

No gatherings, no travelling

Cities in lockdown.

And I find myself glad

That when she went,

We could mourn her

Together, sharing our grief

Celebrating her life

Hugging each other,

as we bade her farewell.

Covid has changed

So much, for so many,

Snatching whatever

Comfort and support

We could share

When bereaved,

Especially when

Covid has claimed that life.

Living this way is hard enough

Dying, unthinkable.

25th April, 2021

For Indu

A friend spoke of her dream

To live near a water body,

And I remembered my years

On the banks of the Chao Phraya

With rafts of logs floating downstream

Many kinds of river craft,

and bhikshus on the bank across

Begging, early mornings,

for their sole meal of the day.

The sunset among the palms

Such beauty, so much beauty.

And in spate, the river overflowed

Boats plied in the fields,

Milk and vegetables came by boat

And once we took our infant son

To the hospital, by boat,

Across those fields...

In memory again, I remember

How that beautiful river

Became the background

rarely noticed

In the busy-ness of our lives.

And I grieve, for having taken it

So much for granted.

Today, each tree I encounter

Most mornings, is a friend

That I mentally embrace,

And hold close to my heart.

Have the intervening years

Changed me so much?

I hope so.

I salute you once again

In memory,

Beautiful river.

24th April, 2021

The elderly gentleman

Sits on the garden bench

Every morning

Listening to the music

Of Pandit Jasraj

On a device with

Two hundred compositions

Of the master

Whose divine voice

Wafts by on the breeze

As I walk along.

31st March, 2021

Three salwars drying
Astride a washing line
Ghostly riders
in a strange tandem.

24th March 2021

Waiting for the death

Of the terminally ill seems

Akin to a difficult pregnancy,

The patient immobile,

Bedridden, dependent, helpless

In a particular, unique reality,

But with no end date in sight.

A date after which you know

You can get on with your own life

And so you pray, both for patience

And for a merciful release

For all concerned.

Each such death that you witness

Tells you more about yourself

Than you would really like to know.

8th March, 2021

I walked earlier than usual

This spring morning

Around the colony garden

When there's a loud, composite roar.

A dog barks, alarmed.

It's five elderly men

Being tigers and lions

Before they clap in unison

And laugh in unison

Kindergarten days again!

22nd February, 2021

Like

Comment

Share

Recent Reads

Recent Reads

 I finished this book a couple of days ago, reading compulsively, eager to know what happened next. I am still trying to process my thoughts, and hope to be more coherent in a detailed review at some point. For now, I can only say that Kiran Manral has surpassed herself with her latest book. It is mysterious, spooky, atmospheric, lyrical. It takes you to places that may or may not be familiar to you, but are so vividly described that you feel that you know that Bandra, that Goa, those mountains. The characters are etched with finesse, each one authentically portrayed, including the protagonist as a child, as well as the details of her family history, all adding to a richly nuanced story.

4th May, 2021

Belly Dancing! When life seems impossibly hard, more unpredictable than ever, it's an instant pick-me-up. Gouri Dange writes about food with knowledge, wit (at times acerbic), and her characteristic sense of fun. From an absolutely magical stew concocted with her father, to his pithlas, to the tricks children resort to to get rid of unwanted food, tiffins included, to food flavoured fiction from her wide ranging oeuvre, to the (undeserved?) snob value of certain foods, Belly Dancing is truly A Romp Through The World of Food. 3rd May 2021

Greatly impressed with Peggy Mohan 's new book:

Wanderers, Kings, Merchants: The Story of India through its Languages.

It takes you on wonderful journeys, introducing fascinating concepts, at times deeply philosophical, at times warmly personal. Ancient history gets a new perspective, that of migration, and its effects on local languages. I was particularly fascinated by the chapters which spoke of Amir Khusro and Mirza Ghalib, and their linguistic heritage. Hinglish figures in the final chapter, and one realizes how muchour worlds are circumscribed by the languages at our command. I am most impressed by the author's scholarship and her vast range of interests.

29th April 2021

Murder she wrote.

Anuja Chauhan's latest, Club Me To Death, is brilliantly written, with a delightful cast of characters, an insider's view of club life, a subtle yet highly perceptive look at social issues, snide potshots at the current dispensation, an adorable ACP, and a very juicy murder or two. Gripping. Her desification of the language adds to the fun. A classic, juicy murder mystery, set in the heart if Lutyens' Delhi. What's not to love?

19th March, 2021

Just finished reading The Anger of Saintly Men by Anubha Yadav.

It is a brilliant, authentic account of the lives of three brothers, their family and friends. It takes you across time and space and political history, many issues of identity, of boyhood, manhood, and the pressures of the situations the characters find themselves in. A rollercoaster of a book, rich in imagery, written with deep empathy. Brilliant, Anubha. Looking forward to your next!

10th March, 2021

On Ankit Chadha's death anniversary

 

It's been three long years

Since you left us in tears

Grappling with a grief immense

And we miss you still, so much

But if you had to go,

(And it must have been ordained

Why else would it have happened,

Your departure from our world?)

I am glad you went when you did

(I never thought I could say this)

Before this disease took over our world

There were hundreds of us there

To bid you farewell

Your sorrowing parents, family, friends.

Together we mourned you

Sought comfort together

No screens separating us

No masks.

Our grief was naked

And shared

And somehow,

Slowly, but somehow,

We learned to live without you.

Today, death is wildly rampant

Working overtime

Our quota of grief numbed

By the sheer volume of loss.

Our tears have frozen

In our grief stricken hearts.

If you had to go so young,

I'm glad you went then...

9th May, 2021

Sunshine and Shadows

 Sunshine and shadows

And then, magic

I walk on down the pathway

And through the trees ahead

A brilliant flash of blue, turquoise

and golden brown

A kingfisher, perhaps

So far from the river.

Hope? Yes, hope.

11th May, 2021

Wise Words

 

                       Words of wisdom from a very wise Facebook friend. Worth preserving here.

Morning Musings

 I walked earlier than usual

This spring morning

Around the colony garden

When there's a loud, composite roar.

A dog barks, alarmed.

It's five elderly men

Being tigers and lions

Before they clap in unison

And laugh in unison

Kindergarten days again!

Some thoughts after watching The Great Indian Kitchen

 A bright and sparkly young woman, whom we first see dancing with joy and abandon, marries into a 'good, traditional' family somewhere in Kerala. And then there is the endless kitchen and household work which she shares with her mother-in-law, a woman who is kind and considerate towards her, and who has, unfortunately, tolerated/enabled some extremely inconsiderate behaviour from her husband and son. Their smug, entitled acceptance of all the goodies and services that comes their way is repugnant. I wonder how deeply entrenched these behaviour patterns are, and how common they are. The story progresses: the mother-in-law has to go and look after her pregnant daughter, leaving her young daughter-in-law to manage the home. Demands are very politely worded as requests. Tradition is ascendant: a woman is employed only for the few days when the protagonist is having her period. Her natal family is not so conservative, having lived for a while in Bahrain. The men decide to undertake the Sabarimala pilgrimage, with its conditions of abstinence and ritual purity. A leaking kitchen drain is not repaired, despite several requests to call the plumber. This slow, constant leak seems to symbolize the slow erosion of harmony, of trust, of consideration, of communication, of a bond that has barely had a chance to form. This was a film that both disturbed and enraged me, with its depiction of deep seated patriarchy.

When we lived in Kerala in the late nineties, my dear teacher, Dr. Anandalakshmy came to stay with us for a few days. The redoubtable Mary Roy was an old friend of hers, and came over for dinner one evening. She remarked upon my then teenaged son laying the table for dinner, as something extremely unusual for Kerala. For our family it was normal, no task was exclusively gendered. Perhaps my childhood and youth were exceptional, but I recall no task of any kind as beneath my father's dignity. He was a deeply independent person, and hated dependence and laziness. Heaven help us if he overheard us sisters ask each other for a glass of water. Strong disapproval. An early riser, he would go for a walk and come back and make tea for himself and my mother. Although he was the breadwinner and Mummy was the homemaker,  she would happily deal with the bank work if Daddy was too busy, and he would cook something for all of us if she wasn't well, or one of his specials just for fun. (Very ugly but delicious eggplants made in the pressure cooker). Once he had retired he often sat and cut the vegetables, especially if my brother and family were visiting, and the quantities prepared were larger than usual. Shopping for fruit and vegetables, getting the wheat ground, and most routine grocery shopping were his department. My mother would, besides the daily cooking, dish washing, laundry, (mostly by hand, but my sister and I had to wash our own socks and handkerchiefs) and cleaning ( which she did for several years until we finally employed a part-time helper), she would manage to sew for us, read magazines, make pickles, sweetmeats and various snacks. Holidays were when my sister and I were supposed to clean the floors, until the helper came into our lives. As we grew older, we took turns making the evening meal. And yes, chutney was ground by hand, on the sil-batta. Overall, though, our normal cuisine seemed relatively simple to prepare.  Our much older brother had been away from home for years, and presumably, knew how to fend for himself. My spouse had three much older sisters, and was a boarding school and college hostel product, hence totally unskilled in any culinary activity. If push came to shove, he could survive on bread and eggs and, later, Maggi noodles. Given a choice, he would certainly prefer to outsource all housework, rather than do it himself. The lockdown made a dish washer out of him, as well as salad champion. A few more weeks might have had him actively cooking, but anyway...

Despite not having dealt with the specific situations/nastiness as was shown in the film, it nonetheless struck a familiar chord. Power equations within families are often skewed. A non-earning member's contributions are oh-so-often taken for granted and undervalued, or his/her ambitions squelched with false praise for the thankless role he/she is fulfilling. A movie which truly makes you think, one which reinforced my firmly held beliefs that cooking, cleaning, laundry, driving, banking etc., are all life skills which every adult human being should possess. Do watch.