September of Losses

April might have been the cruelest of months to T S Eliot, but to me it’s been September. Every year as September approaches my heart fills with trepidation. It has been the month that has brought in almost every death that affected me one way or the other.

1996 September took away my grandfather. My grandmother, dutiful wife that she was, promptly followed him the next September. After a brief respite for a couple of years, 1999 brought in the worst of them all. My father. I still remember the phone call that Tuesday night. It was September 21st. Curiously my husband shut the room’s door when he took that call. I was having dinner and watching ‘Something about Mary’ on HBO. I thought the TV’s volume might have bothered him. He waited till I was done with dinner before he told me. After that I always turn the TV off when that movie plays. I don’t think I will ever watch it again.

I’d just seen my dad off at the JFK airport 15 days back. The last I saw of him was just before he turned the corner behind the Kuwait airways counter on his way to board the plane. He turned back and stood there for almost a minute just looking at me till my mother urged him to move on. I can never forget the look on his face and that’s the image of him that I carry in my heart. I never saw him after that. I didn’t make it for the funeral. Told them not to wait for me. I’d rather remember him alive.

I also learnt a valuable lesson that night. ‘Never wish for anything too hard’. You just might get it and it might not really be what you wanted. The day my parents left, I remember thinking, “I’d give anything to go home for a visit.” I got to go home. But the ‘anything’ I had to give was my father.

The year 2000 took away an uncle barely a week after the first anniversary of my father’s passing.

2001 brought no death, but there was a setback of another kind. The twin towers came down in NYC and so did the new startup company in California that my husband had just joined. A few weeks later I made the most memorable journey in my life. I flew halfway across the world, racing across airports with my three month old baby in a sling over my shoulder, my five year old daughter in a stroller and my mom who had fallen sick (she had come to help me with my daughter’s delivery) in a wheelchair.

The next three years went by with no incident. 2004 brought tragedy again. It was the 30th of September and I was just about beginning to breathe easy. 10 pm: almost there, two more hours to go, when the phone call came. This time it was a cousin. One I had grown up with. He had fought with me, told me several tall tales and brought me plenty of books to read. A kidney failure claimed him. He was just 46. He left behind a 36 year old wife and an 11 year old daughter.

The past few years again were uneventful and at midnight on September 30th, as the clock’s needle had edged towards October 1st I had been able to sigh with relief. I usually hold my breath the whole month and breathe only when necessary.

However this September tragedy struck again. This morning I heard what must have been the most shocking and unacceptable death of all. My sister –in-law’s nephew whom I’d known since he was 7 or so. Played with him and quibbled over comic books , when I used to spend a few days every summer vacation at my sister-in-law’s house. I saw him last on September 4th 2008, the day before I came back from India after attending my niece’s wedding. This September 4th, he is no more.

Just 35 years old. Too young to have a heart attack. I am still reeling from shock and my heart goes out to his bubbly and charming young wife and the adorable imp of a daughter who is just 3, and his parents whose grief I cannot even begin to imagine.

26 days more to go… before the wretched month comes to an end.

happy birthday!

as husbands come, the guy’s one of a kind. she had always wanted a love marrriage… but that didn’t work out. uh uh, her family wouldn’t even entertain the thought. not even in their wildest dreams. so after a search that took more than three years, several misses and close misses, they finally found him for her.

maybe you could call it an arranged love marriage, the parents arranged the match and she promptly fell in love with him.

she had been pulled out of college where she was teaching in the middle of the day. “come on hurry up… someone’s coming to see you.” after the last ‘girlseeing’ fiascoshe was determined it would not happen again. she had reached the end of the tether and had just stopped short of telling her parents that she couldn’t care less if she got married or not and that she had had enough of the humiliation of being paraded in front of a stranger and the following rejections. the only reason she didn’t tell them was because she couldn’t bear to see the hurt in her parents’ eyes. they were getting on in age and well, beginning to get slightly desperate.

she opened her mouth to tell them she had no interest in seeing him. if he was keen on seeing her, he could just see her somewhere without her knowledge. but no one let her speak. “this is it. the search ends here. this will be the last,” they seemed to promise her.

“oh well, i’ll go along with it. but remember, this is the last,” she delivered an ultimatum.

on the way home she was told his ‘qualifications’, his job, and all those trivial details that parents and family are majorly bothered about. what did she care if he worked in a multinational company or where his sibling was married and settled.

“does he have a sense of humor?” does he think his wife is an equal or subordinate? will he treat me as a friend? will he give me the freedom to follow my dreams? will he be around to catch me when i fall? will he be patient enough to put up with my craziness? will he squash spiders for me? will he sing to me? does he have brown eyes? will he boost my morale when i need it most? will he help with the housework? will he be too proud to make up after a fight even if it is my fault? will he just turn around and go to sleep or hold me close and cuddle me? will he love me despite every annoyingly trivial and stupidly major blunder i manage to do through life? will he be man enough to say ,”i love you” atleast once a day?

those were the questions she needed answered, but they had to wait. she would find them all along the way; way deep into her marriage…

“He’s the guy for you,” her brother-in-law who was the first person to see him remarked to her as soon as he saw her at home. “all these years, and all the proposals we went through, nothing gave me a gut feeling that we found the right guy until today. you both will suit each other”. he said as he smiled warmnly at her. as a person who had seen her since she was a little girl, she was almost like his daughter.

finally he was there to see her.she was the first girl he was seeing and she was a veteran by the time, with a heart brimming with cynical pessimism.

the first time they saw each other. what she remembered most was his smile. open, friendly, a smile that touched his eyes. then they were sent to speak to each other alone, to understand each other better. she wondered at the absurdity of the whole thing. what exactly would they learn about each other by talking for a few minutes. but they were to be crucial few minutes. they spoke. a talk which was expected to last no more than 5 minutes somehow went on for longer. the five stretched into 40.

“are you a very serious person?” that was the first thing she asked him.

“do i look like one,? he grinned back at her.

somehow she knew they could get along on the same wavelength. movies, music, poetry, expectations, they discussed a bunch of stuff… at the end of it, both decided to stick together, for better or for worse…

14 years down the line, they still stuck together despite some mostly ups and rare downs. to his credit he never forgot an anniversary or a birthday. he even remembered some valentines days and mothers days as an added bonus. not that they really mattered.he was her daily bread – warm, nourishing, stable and reliable…

he helped her up everytime she fell. stood by her despite all her follies and foibles. made her dream on and pushed her along her chosen path – a fact that even she did not realize-, treated her as his friend, companion, and beloved, made her laugh, made her cry, squashed a whole bunch of spiders and vanquished her demons, allowed her to crush the bones in his hands everytime a contraction took her in the delivery room without batting an eyelid, made up everytime she picked a fight, companiably shared the housework, told her to stand tall and proud before him even after she had done badly, willingly forgave her even after she hurt him real bad, and held her long into the night whispering ,”i love you ” in her ears.

sometimes she felt she would go mad with her love for him, which usually overflowed its banks. she felt she could love the whole world , loving him. but he could never have enough of that love.he was always hungry for more just like her. even after 14 years they still managed to whisper sweet nothings to each other. he still sang to her and when his warm brown eyes looked deep into hers, she felt like she could let go the whole world, just for that one look from him. before him, nothing else mattered, and no one else mattered.

together they had built a shared life of laughter and tears, when faith in each other could get them through the worst, when words were not really needed for a conversation. it was not worth nothing…

that’s the way it is and that’s the way it should be.

with a deep sigh of realization and satisfaction, she placed her hand in his and turned to him and whispered, “happy birthday dearest! would you like for your birthday present one whole heart, untainted and happily given, just for you?”

I am...

I am Earth
Raw, passionate,
Fragrantly alive
In my cool bluegreens
And lusty reds
Deep, sensuous,
Warm, musty, abundant
Vibrant, mysterious

I am River
Overflowing limits
Of bonding banks
Sinuous, laughing
Tremulous, turbulent
Stretching lithe curves
On the way to join
My deep blue sea

I am Sea
Eternal, longing
Unconquered depths
Of timeless treasures
Forbidden mystery
Tireless, beckoning
Fathomless, calm
Stormy, tempestuous

I am Mountain
Silent, menacing
Darkly brooding
Secret caves
Of hidden turmoil
Fiery passions
Of violent fervor
Cooling mists
Serene, tranquil
I am Earth
River
Sea
Mountain
I am Woman…

Rediscovery

Sometimes a simple conversation can throw you off balance. It can either turn your world topsy turvy or take you on a ride on a time machine. Sometimes it can come along at the wrong time and make things just worse. Or they can pop up at the right moment and pull you out of the dumps. It can put you in a totally different frame of mind. Take you back to those magical days of youth when u saw rainbows in shards of glass or to mundane days of reality when you view everything through jaded jaundiced eyes.

Thankfully I went back and opened up doors I long thought were closed forever, awakened old memories, heady days of open rains and swirling mists of dust. It made me read again it made me write again. It brought back the songs I had forgottn to sing. Dusted off old volumes and rediscovered Whitman and Neruda. Realized I once dwelt with the likes of Shelly and Keats. I smelt the fragrant earth after the new rains, heard the mountains whispering to each other and relished the liberating pleasure of a simple sneeze. Slowly the slumbering lover, the dozing romantic in me sprang back to life as I tore away the straightjacket from my heart and the veil from my soul.

In my desperate bid to play the adult I had smothered the youth in me. In a never ending quest to maturity, I had forgoten who I was. What was I but for my dreams, my music my poetry, my heartful of passion and unbridled joy? I looked at my love with new eyes and suddenly wanted to be me again. He deserved to see the real me, the one I don’t think he ever knew. I had been acting a role trying to be who I was not, trying to fit into dutiful roles.

Let me be me, the true me, the unfetterd spirit, the dreamer, the lover, the poet, the idealist, the friend, the insufferable pain, the incurable egoist, the enigmatic non-conformist that defies description. Let me rekindle the fire that once burnt glorious in me. Let me be me…let me be free...

Close Encounter

I’ve heard said that when you have a near death experience,
You see your whole life flash by in a second…
Well, they were wrong. Or maybe it wasn’t near enough…,
The one I had yesterday
When a huge SUV almost crushed my tiny beetle.
My fault… but I swear I didn’t see it coming.
I swear I checked for oncoming traffic.
But then I was in a pretty foul mood
And that probably caused a blind spot.
He/she braked and I swerved
Tragedy averted.
He probably yelled at me.
I don’t know… but this I know,
Someone definitely is watching over me.
My dad or god or my dad as god.
Nothing flashed by me
No elation, no disappointment
No laughter, no tear
No triumph, no failure
Not one special moment from 38 years of life
No suppressed longing no repressed regret
No unbridled joy
Neither were there subconscious memories
All I thought was, “How stupid could I have been!”
“I put my kids in danger! How could I?”
All I heard was rebuke, “How could I be careless
With my kids in the car!”
Chastised, I pulled over for a breather
My daughter, the elder one who realized what just occurred
Hugged me in an effort to cheer
The other one, unaware, carried on demanding what she was demanding…
Life went on, as I drove to their next class
But it was quite a while before my hands stopped trembling.

എനിക്കറിയില്ല

എന്നോ എവിടെയോ ഉതിര്‍ന്നു വീണ ചില പൂക്കള്‍
ഓര്‍മ്മയുടെ ഉണര്‍വില്‍ നിന്നോ
മനസ്സിന്റെ തുറക്കാത്ത കവാടത്തില്‍ നിന്നോ
എനിക്കറിയില്ല

ഒന്നും തിരികെ എടുക്കാന്‍ മുതിര്‍ന്നില്ല
കാണാന്‍ മറന്ന സ്വപ്‌നങ്ങള്‍ മാത്ത്രം
ആ ഏകാന്ത വഴികളില്‍ അവയ്ക്ക് കൂട്ടായി...

Blame it on Alakananda

I’ve heard quite a few women claiming to be ‘remote widows’ (you know, losing their husbands to the remote control…) and I’ve read quite a bit about how, like it or not, the male gene is programmed for that love affair with the remote. But I always thought I had escaped the fate, until quite recently.

The change was subtle. I did not even realize it was creeping in. what began as just a minor dalliance during his morning cup of tea, soon blossomed into a full fledged romance. I did not realize how bad it was until a couple of days ago my li’l girl gently pushed my husband off the couch to peer under him.

“Just checking,” she quipped.

“Checking what?”

“Checking if he’s put down any roots”.

I thought that might shame him into hauling himself off the sofa. No such luck. I cannot believe that my husband is turning into a couch potato. Gone are his days of biking, our morning walks, and the ping pong table languishes in our garage gathering dust. He was going to teach the girls to play over the winter break. The nasty cold weather might be blamed for the lack of exercise, but come on, there’s a limit to blaming the weather.

And for a person like me to whom watching TV is simply anathema, I find it intolerable. Like my orkut profile claims I’d rather browse or read a book than stare at the idiot box.

Like every ‘ dutiful’ wife I sat and pondered if it was all my fault and I’ve come to the conclusion that it indeed was. I was the one who arranged for them to meet. It all began last summer. We had only American channels then – the usual Time Warner cable connection that curiously was incapable of playing anything but Disney channel. (two girls-parents not that much into TV, minimum homework, 30 minutes of tv time each… well you do the math.)I soon realized that Disney was anything but what i had associated with the lovable Mouse and the whacky Duck.

While I might never forgive Walt for what he did to a certain little mermaid which incidentally, is favorite fairy tale (the original HCA version I mean), I do have my share of favorite Disney moments. That spaghetti scene in ‘the Lady and the Tramp’ if you ask me is one of the most romantic scenes ever captured on film. However, I staunchly believe that the ‘secret pop star’ Hannah Montana is no role model for my girls. Nor do I care much for Raven or her equally obnoxious brother. But those adorable twins: Zack and Cody and the long suffering Moseby… well, that’s another tale, and I fear I digress.

Coming back to my tale, we soon decided that enough was enough. It was high time they started watching some Malayalam channels for some cultural influence from home. I had enough of her belting out “ pumpin’ up the party now”. Maybe i could get her to hum a few mallu songs. First we tried one of those internet subscribed mallu channels. But it got to be a bit tedious, having to connect the laptop to the tv and switching screens and cables and what not. The idea soon lost its charm. And I did not hear my daughter humming ‘natha brahmathin sagaram…’

Then I slowly mooted the idea of a dish antenna and Indian channels. He was totally against it at first. But one fine day he decided we could go for it.

“Let’s do it. We’ll get a dish antenna and cut the American channels. We’ll just retain the basic channels. Then no more Disney".

Wow! I was thrilled. After mush discussions and consultation, we decided to go for the Asianet -Amrita combo. Idea star singer- all those puranic serials- the shot of spirituality from Amrita - movies. Those were the deciding factors. As a bonus, a couple of Hindi channels were thrown in too. Now maybe the girls will get a good dose of Indian culture. Of course, none of those dreadful tearjerker serials of course. The TV would be strictly off during those hours.

The antenna came by courier. My husband and a couple of friends, after a day’s toil managed to position it and soon we were receiving Indian channels on our TV. It was a Sunday and there was a nice old Lalettan movie on Asianet. ‘Unnikale oru katha parayaam’ I think. After ten minutes my little one wanted to surf channels. She found the Hindi channel. ‘Salaam Namaste’ was on.

“Hey that looks nice!” that was the older one.

“Yes deedi let’s watch this.”

I am sure the trendy clothes and the catchy music caught them.

Hmm, well, err, I let that pass. Oh, from tomorrow I’ll make sure they watch something more enriching.

From the next day I tried getting them hooked on ‘Sreemad Bhagavatham’ and ‘Devi Mahatmyam’. I failed miserably. Though they did show some interest, the timings were bad. After being draconian about their bed time at 10 sharp, I couldn’t ask them to stay up till 11 watching TV. So I gave it up.

Oh well anyway, long story short – they don’t watch much of TV. Nor do I find the programs particularly ‘culturally enriching’. Uh, you know what I mean. I don’t want to explain which aspect of Indian culture includes nubile and not so nubile young things in barely there costumes cavorting on stage with equally ‘misclad’ guys. (Yea, so I am a prude. SO…..? I am a mom too remember, and it’s a mom’s privilege to be a prude in certain things)

But all along, someone else was silently being reeled in. Slowly, steadily, stealthily, till he was totally hooked. ‘chakkinu vachathu kokkinu kondu’.

So here I am or rather me and the kids, left bereft. But I’ll take care of it. If I could bring it in, I can take it out too. So am starting to work on it. I’ll have those channels thrown out soon. Let me poison his mind. (hee hee I feel an evil cackle coming on)

Oh but just a moment, did I just hear my daughter hum a tune? Sounded awfully like ‘kolakkuzhal vili ketto…”

Hmmm, let me consider things for a while. Maybe I’ll just go for a TV curfew time first.

PS: What’s with the title you ask? Well, Alakananda is one of the leading news anchors on Asianet and a hot favorite if Google is anything to go by. You wouldn’t believe the number of people who hunt for her online, and most of them land on my blog. So I have no complaints. So I thought I’ll just give the title to my namesake. Come on, it sounded good to me. You don’t have a problem with that do you? Hey , its my blog remember?

It’s that time of the Year Again…

Surprisingly not many asked that dreaded question yesterday at the low key New Year ‘party’ I attended yesterday. Low key for a lot of reasons, though I would like to think that the Mumbai terrorist attack was what put a dampener on the festivities. Who am I trying to fool? Our apathy has reached such abysmal depths of shame that Thanksgiving Day parties were going on full swing on 27th November . I know I attended one too. But I at least chose to wear black.

What was it that we were so thankful about? That we were not in Mumbai at the Taj/Trident/Oberoi on that accursed day? That none of our close kith or kin were on that list of blood and smoke? If I remember right it wasn’t even the hottest topic of discussion. They were talking about the decorated bird on the table and the intricacies of roasting a turkey.

The other topic was the upcoming Christmas day celebration coming up at the Mallu organization here. There I did try to breach the male ranks to reach the board members and suggested that we at least observe a ‘two-minute-silence-prayer’ routine before the program started in memory of those who lost their lives. Hey we lost one of ours too… a promising young man named Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan. Bear with me, I devoutly believe that all those lives lost were ours, but tried the Major’s name to gain leverage for my idea.

“Hmm, we shall definitely consider the idea. Thanks for the suggestion.” Ah, a nice way of saying no, I know. Atleast that was better than the other response I got. “ Idea Kollaam. But the situation is not right. It’s a celebration. We cannot bring this in and spoil the mood…” . I was aghast. Where was the enthusiasm with which I was sure my idea would be greeted? (oh well, yeah I had visions of being thanked for my great idea….”oh! wonderful! That is such a nice thought. Why, none of us even thought of it. You are so patriotic….” . ok none of that happened.) Anyway, I was really struck by the desperation with which people tried to ignore it.

And why wasn’t the situation right? Here we were, a big bunch of Indians, far away from home, gathering a few days after a horrific attack on the country, wasn’t it the perfect occasion to express solidarity with our homeland? Were we not morally bound to acknowledge the sacrifice of lives? Should that not have been the first thing on everybody’s minds? Moreover, in my book, a celebration was always a time to remember those that were not with us, those that did not make it. A time to celebrate their lives too.

And ‘spoiling the mood’??????????!!!!!!!

Excuse me! All these onam and Christmas ‘celebrations’ are surefire recipes for disasters anyway. Friendships are broken ever year over ‘prime time’ programs, song selections, rehearsal schedules, boys/girls groups and what not. Moods were going to go awry anyway. Whether the moods of people with such trivial issues were worth considering is a matter of opinion.

So at the end of it I was left totally disgusted with everyone, most of all with myself. I was part of that apathetic bunch too. Why are we all so happy to remain in our own safe cocoons? When are we going to start caring? What wake up call did we need to show some empathy?
Anyway that brings me back to the quest ion I was asked. “Have I made any New Year resolutions?”

Well, I have made one, one which I hope I will stick to through the year. Nope, its not to lose 30 pounds in two months , not that I shall organize my closets and cupboards, not even that I shall hereafter leave the kitchen clean and sparkling every night unlike the ‘yudhdhakkalam’ I leave behind every night.

All I resolved and promised myself was that I would write everyday. Whether I felt like it or not, whether it sounded good or bad. Whether I post what I write or publish it or just let it languish in some oblivious corner of my hard disk. In sadness and joy, in health and sickness, for richer or poorer, I’ve decided to stay true and truly wedded to the only thing I think I can do- write. A minimum of 500 words a day. Let me see if I can do it. If I can, I’ll keep you posted. :)

Home Sweet Home

PEOPLE,

Its been a while. a loong long while... and finally...

I AM GOING HOME!

AFTER 2 AND A HALF LOOOOOONG YEARS I AM GOING HOME :))

I CANNOT WAIT TILL I GET TO MY OWN SWEET PARADISE THIS SIDE OF HEAVEN.

FOR THE NEXT FEW WEEKS AM GOING TO BE SHUTTLING BETWEEN NAGERCOIL AND TRIVANDRUM.

SO LONG AND FAREWELL TILL THEN. CATCH U ALL LATER :))

Wedding Blues

It was yesterday when realization suddenly struck me. Barely a week to go, there’s a wedding in the family and what am I doing, stuck halfway across the world. It sinks in slowly that I will be missing the wedding. Though I knew right from day one when they fixed the date that I would be missing it, I guess I chose to ignore the fact. Veteran escapist that I am, I just pushed the thought away, tucked it into the remotest corner of my mind and refused to let it out. And like all things that you prefer to keep hidden away have the tendency to pop up when you least expect it, this has popped out too. Like my messy kitchen cabinet that one fine day decided it could take no more of my stashaways and burst open right in the middle of a fancy dinner party I threw.

If I just sit back and close my eyes for a moment I could be transported right back home. I can see the utter pandemonium reigning supreme there. I can just hear my bro-in-law yelling at my sis for having forgotten to remind him to invite that cranky old neighbor who fortunately moved to the other end of the country two years ago, while she desperately hunts for that all important telephone directory that contains all the addresses and phone numbers of anybody who is anybody. “I swear ----, that I just left it on the table for a while when I went to answer the door. When I came back it had simply disappeared. It’s eerie,” she griped to me over the phone. Supernatural forces at work I am sure.

And all the other one million little things that were adding chaos to the utter confusion. If the painter came, the carpenter wouldn’t. If both decided to honor the house with their presence they would manage to trample all the newly planted shrubs and plants underfoot. Or the borewell motor that just decided to stop working a week before the wedding. Well, that particular mechanic… he was off to a wedding himself. “Close wedding sir, my wife’s third cousin’s grandfather’s uncle’s neighbor sir. How can I not go? How will I face them again?” of course, he had to attend it.

I can hear my brothers arguing about which color would be best as the stage backdrop at the reception or whether the stage should be decorated with just flower bouquets or whether a couple of bonsais need to be thrown in too, for effect; my elder-bro-in-law quietly and efficiently giving instructions for hall-arrangements-public relations etc. he is a miracle worker who can get things done without any of the accompanying turmoil that usually accompanies the other members in the family; my elder sister is probably busy trying to decide the day’s menu while my sisters in-law are doubtless trying to keep the early, ‘much-too eager- to- help,- but- hindrance- actually-visitors’ entertained. My mom’s probably happily swapping tales with my bro-in-law’s mom. And the kids? My umpteen nephews and nieces? While the guys are probably being chased around on errands, the gals must be sitting around discussing… what else, but what to wear?

Sitting here with my eyes closed I can just imagine them all sitting around the dining table, hear the carefree chatter, the querulous complaints, the hysteric laughter (courtesy my sister - oh, you should hear us three sisters get together, we’d give the three witches of Macbeth a run for their money any day when it comes to cackling), the giggling fits and loud arguments that must be going on. Why I can even smell the jasmine strands they must be tying up, the sambhar bubbling in my sister’s kitchen, and the rasavadas they must be having with tea.
.
Over the past few weeks every phone call home has been an update on the wedding scenario. Whether it was the trip to RmKV, Thirunelveli for the ‘sari to be given to the bride’ or the trip to Balaramapuram for the ‘mundum neriyathum’, again to be given to the bride, and the groom’s ‘mundu’, or the myriad trips to bhima/alukkas/josco/our family goldsmith for you know whats. Or how exhausted my sis-in-law and sister ended up after having 'invited' 80 houses in a single day!

Right now I know the colors of everyone’s sari, both the ones for the wedding at Trivandrum and the reception at Nagercoil, what each person is wearing the day before the wedding and so on and so forth. Right from my sister’s ‘third- layer- of –onion- skin- color’ (which she believes is not too flashy and is befitting to the dignified ‘mother-in-law’ look) to my niece’s ripe mango bordered by apple peel a day after its been peeled. (Note to guys who read this: don’t even go there. You wouldn’t even be able to envision those colors. It’s a gal thing. Unfortunately you lack the gene. That’s why pumpkin and peach are just fruits to you).

I wonder if they’ll rag this couple too, like they did when my eldest nephew got married. Well, things had quietened down and it was time for the bride and groom to retire to their room. All the kids under the able leadership of my husband locked up their room and refused to part with the key unless my nephew shelled out good money. And then started the craziest auction of all. Finally when the price reached Rs.10000 and there still seemed to be no sign of going, going, gone, my nephew decided enough was enough and decided to move on to one of the posh hotels in the city. Even they wouldn’t charge that much for a night’s stay. And best of all they could have some peace and quiet and ‘quality’ time away from the jingbang. Anyway, things were settled then for a modest Rs.2500/- and the money was handed over to my husband, him being the oldest among the ‘kids’.

Anyway, the tale of that money is not over yet. We decided to give it to my sis for safekeeping until such a date when the whole family had gathered together under one roof. Unfortunately, it’s been 7 years and 4 months now and the family has grown bigger by 6 (that particular couple themselves have a couple of kids now) but the day has not yet arrived. Hopefully that will happen sometime soon and when it does, my sis has some serious accounting to do. Seven years worth of interest you see ;)… From what I hear, this nephew, the one getting married now is gearing up for all eventualities. With a crazy family like ours, you can never be sure.

And why am I missing the wedding or rather weddings (because a couple of months later, my niece is getting married too). I miss my nephew’s because my daughter has exams just then, vacation does not start yet. And my niece? She’s getting married a week after my kids’ school reopens after summer vacation. Methinks I smell a strong conspiracy. My bro and my sis, along with the numerous planets and stars in their ascents and descents ruling and lording it over their respective houses, have hatched a sinister plot to keep me away. How come they couldn’t find a date to accommodate me otherwise? Chechi and chetta dears, you have some serious answering to do.

I know we're going to be sorely missed and when you all pose for that big family photo on June 4th, there's going to be a big void that only the four of us can fill and I know what each one of you will be thinking at that moment,-"Wish they were here!"