Festive

This year,
I forgot about Raksha Bandhan.
I lost track of "Avani Avittam", when we change our Poonal, every year.
I forgot it is Krishna Jayanthi today. Had called mom and she told me she just finished with "drawing legs". And then told me she has made appamand seeyam. And let out a long sigh that neither me nor my wife was there with her, let alone my dad who is also away from home today.

These are instances where I really pity Indians who have settled abroad, and cannot celebrate such events with the full family.

These are exactly the times I used to look forward to, and still do. Every festival has such a huge build up towards the actual day and on that day, its a whole new world. I can go on and on about how much I have enjoyed all these over the years. And the best festival for me, is Diwali. Mom almost doesnt sleep the night before. I get up at 3 am every year, and before doing anything, go and burst a "oosi vedi". It is a saasthram that we follow. And what my parents dont know, is that I have bets with friends as to who will burst a cracker first :D

For Krishna Jayanthi, its not much in the morning. But as evening nears, pace picks up for the preparations. Mom draws tiny white leg prints, right from the beginning of the walk-way to the kitchen where the idols are kept. This is done to invite Lord Krishna into the home. And mom does the pooja while dad and I just loiter around waiting for the actual main attraction of the evening. Food. :D

Krishna Jayanthi specials are Seedais. Vellai Seedai, Uppu Seedai are the two main things. Appam, lemon rice, coconut rice and a lot of desserts with curd. I used sit with mom to roll the seedai balls the day before. Just the whole aura and expectations around a festival is so cool. And today, when I am sitting at UK, wife at one corner of Bangalore, dad in another corner, and mom at Hosur, it is really disappointing.

I am desperate to get back by Diwali atleast, coz Diwali is always a special day. It is The coolest day in my calendar as far as festivals are concerned. I will write about how we have been doing the same stuff over years on Diwali day, in a separate post. Any deviation from that ritual, and the day isnt quite the same.

But Mrs may have to miss it, coz it seems like she may have a travel commitment. And that might give me an opportunity later this year, to have a small break to visit her wherever she is going. Mostly in the Orient.

This year we are supposed to have our Thalai Diwali, our first Diwali as a married couple, but we might have to wait till the next year for this to happen.

Well, a lot of fond memories now swarming my head. I guess I'll savour them for a while.

The Boy I tried to Drown

It is a usual thing for me every morning these days. Watching the birds at the stream, on the way to office from Hertford through Ware, and this is where we part from the stream and go in another direction.

Today, I saw a duckling chasing another and in the process displacing a lot of water from the stream. First thing I thought about was Archimedes' principle.
Now it might be idiotic, but this is what I was thinking:
Each duckling occupied a certain area of the water, say a square foot. Now when one duckling jumps and displaces water from that one square foot it was occupying, the other duckling must go at the exact same speed and thrust, to displace the exact same amount of water from its square foot, causing this water burst to fall into the square foot the previous duckling occupied, to bring back the level of water back to where it was. But, considering that the water is flowing, the chasing duckling doesnt need to work so hard, but needs to displace the difference between water that was pushed out and the water filled by the running stream in that particular square foot, keeping time period constant.

Now I am sure you must be wondering if this is really a mental disorder I am living with, but no! I was just so jobless in the bus.

Coming to what came to my mind after that, you will conclude I am really a bit of a psycho, but this is what happened:

Around 12 to 13 years ago, our house in Hosur, was a small one. It should have been somewhere around 600 square feet totally. But we had a lot of open space in front of the house, and the house opposite to ours, was being altered. They dug a pit we called "sump" for storing water used for construction, which would later become the storage tank for the residence. This sump however was empty for a while, and I would go there and throw stones into it and form my own game to play.

We had another neighbor, a muslim family who are still very close friends. They had relatives visit them during this time I am writing about, and there was a kid Altaf, a year older than me. So being in the same age group, we became friends, and started playing together - the highlight being that we broke one of the windows of their house and ran to hide somewhere, not getting back till late in the night.

I took Altaf to this pit and taught him the games I played, extremely intellectual and thought provoking games like aiming at a stone in the pit and throwing another stone at it. And when I hit the target I would shout "He-Man the Master of the Universe" and take another stone and start all over again. Its kind of stupid I know, but thats what I used to do.

One fine day, a tanker full of water stopped in front of our house, and started filling this empty sump. It was a trememndously joyous sight to see brown muddy water gush out of a really wide green, ridged pipe. The slluuurrrrr that this gushing water produced was like hearing a water-falls up close. Altaf and I stood near the sump, while being warned by mom to stay clear of danger. We were there till the sump was full and the tanker left. Our stones werent visible anymore, but we had new games already being planned.

A day or two later, I found toads and small insects in the water and called Altaf to have a look. Mom called me inside for something, and I went in, while Altaf squatted near the sump and started aiming at the insects. I came out of the house and found Altaf concentrating hard. Everything around us was quiet, and suddenly the devil in me arose, and *spark spark*, a cool idea hit me. I slowly tip-toed to the sump, slowing when I reached Altaf, and was almost crouching behind him by now. I waited for the perfect moment and when everything was sooooooo quiettttt......I shouted "Boooooooooooooooooooooo".

And in a flash, he lunged forward and fell into the sump.

He couldnt swim, and the sump was full of muddy water. He went in and came out, and whenever he went in, I couldnt see him through the water. It was that bad.
I didnt panic, but gravely, I found it a bit amusing. And what I found more amusing was the way he shouted "Bachao bachaoooo" which means "F1 F1" in computers.

It went something like "bachaooo...bachblurbblurbblurrrrr blurchao..bachaooooo"

By now aunty had seen what was happening, and mom came running from inside the house. The sump wasnt too wide, maybe 10 feet or something. Aunty and mom reached for him, and grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him out of the water. Mom was furious, and I knew what was coming. The famous you-are-not-coming-in-the-house-till-dad-comes-back. More on that later in the post.

Anyway, Altaf was safe, he survived anyway. They had to press his chest to bring water out and make it easier for him to breathe. Then he had a good wash, with water and Dettol. And then he was put to bed, because he was too scared to come out.

It was around 5.30 PM, and mom asked me to go to their house and apologise. I went to their house, and went to the bedroom. Aunty smiled at me and ruffled my hair and said it wasnt my fault. Like hell it wasnt, but it was sweet of her, because I was shivering.

She left the room, leaving us alone. I said "Altaf, sorry da." He turned his face the other way and asked me to get out. And so I did.

I came back home, and mom asked me to get out. Okie, this needs a bit of explanation. Whenever I do something wrong, which was almost everyday, it was the same punishment for me. Not allowed inside the house till Dad comes back and decides what to do. Which usually is in my favour. So till then, I had to stand near the road, on the slab that marked the entrance to our plot. It should have been around 30 steps from the house itself. I wasnt supposed to move from there, and mom could see me through the window.

I wasnt given any food or drinks because mom wouldnt come out to meet me anyway. But aunty always gave me something while mom wasnt looking, or she was and didnt mind - I would never know.

So that day, dad came home late, I guess 8.30 or 9 pm, I was there standing from 6 pm till then. As soon as dad saw me standing there, he laughed and said I could never be a nice kid. The laugh was until he heard what happened. He called me in, looked into my eyes and said he didnt like what he heard. The belt was spared, and so was I that day, lucky me. I escaped with the warning, and it took Altaf 3 days to speak to me again. And pretty soon, he left since his holidays were over, and it was years since we met again. Which was around 3 years back. He was studying at Trichy in a different college and had come to Hosur again during holidays. Aunty and family had shifted to a new place and I was visiting them one evening, and what are the chances - Altaf was there. He recognised me instantly, and why wouldnt he.

And said "Neeya!!!" and hid behind a chair, as a joke. Everyone in the house started laughing. Well, I laughed my heart out too!