₹30/-

 

Almost like a wall-of-fame, bearing the remnants of the ₹30/- store. A couple weeks after the buzz of recording top sales, the outside of our apartment wall, bore this… the number 30 written in bright yellow… a wooden elephant artefact, and a shopping bag…purely coincidental!

This is a fancier version of a flea-market, for the products are all first-hand, brand-new. Prices that cannot be called cheap, for it could mean a compromise in quality. These are absolutely good-quality products, almost like the street-side version of a $1 dollar store. Priced as low as ₹30/-, you can pick any product from these street-side vendors, for just ₹30/- The products range from kitchen utility items for home, to other miscellaneous tools necessary for home needs like cleaning, gardening, bathroom needs, and what not! A loudspeaker preset with a recorded voice would go buzzing with the message – ₹30/- for anything you pick! At first, it gave me an impression that it’s a clearance sale towards the closing of the Kalpathi Ratholsavam**, and felt really bad for the amount of energy the street-hawkers had to expend, to sell their wares! I could hear the voice all the way inside my home, from our apartment gate! They were smart after-all, they had upgraded a notch above with their own kind of artificial intelligence – a loudspeaker with a pre-recorded voice! Of course, needless to say, they had UPI payment methods too, smart-technology, right in the middle of a heritage village – Kalpathi, in the district of Palakkad, Kerala.

Come Ratholsavam**, in Kalpathi, the streets are dotted with hawkers like these. I was particularly amazed at the ease of availability of products at such a low-cost, that aren’t really a clearance sale, but intended to be priced low, yet high on utility value. It had to be low-price, higher utility after all, else my Appa wouldn’t really want to indulge in buying a whole lot! The number of times he used to actually coach me on the actual prices of products that I bought online, just didn’t dawn on me, until I saw for myself that even Appa started engaging in buying a whole lot, something outside of the share-market! That was proof that he was right after all, if only we learnt to wait for the right opportunity, and cut-down on the impulsive buying behaviour, there’s a plethora of things you can lay your hands on, choose from a wider variety, and get the physical buying-experience, window-shopping included!

As Kalpathi gets ready for the next Ratholsavam, Appa, you’re not around, and it hurts badly. The mark you’ve left in the price assessment though, is indelible! Spend only on what’s required, learning to wait without getting impulsive, in case you want to do excess buying, wait for a time for the market to get bearish!

Reference on Kalpathi Ratholsavam:

** Kalpathi Ratholsavam (Kalpathi Chariot Festival) is an annual Hindu Temple festival in the Kalpathi of Palakkad in Kerala state, south India. The festival is at the Sri Visalakshi Sametha Sri Viswanatha Swamy temple where the deities are Lord Siva (Lord Viswanatha) and his consort Visalakshi, another name for Parvati.

The annual ten-day chariot festival conducted here during the month of November is one of the most remarkable festivals of Kerala. Vedic recitals and cultural programmes are held in the temple during the first four days of the festival. This is believed to be over 700 years old. On the last three days, thousands of devotees gather together to draw decorated temple chariots through the streets.

Bhoomi thodatha pillayin paatham

பூமி தொடாத பிள்ளையின் பாதம் (Bhoomi thodatha pillayin paatham) – loosely translated as – 

"feet of the baby that never touched the earth."

Madhavan and Shalini starrer Alaipayuthe's popular song – Pachai Nirame has the above line beautifully tucked in; to describe the color red, the poet skillfully employs this incomparable metaphor – with that of a baby's feet that has a light-red hue, feet that have not been seasoned yet by Bhooma Devi.

Until about a week ago, it's only the toes and the knees that had felt Bhooma Devi... and one day, lo and behold, Bhooma decided to spread her arms and hold the tiny feet firm, welcoming the child with all her warmth and love.

No support, nothing to hold on to, the feeling of independence, transforming as boundless joy!

My uncle reminded me about this puranic story in this context –

 

When child Prahladha told his father Hiranyakashipu about the nine types of Bhakthi – 

• Shravanam: Listening to the Lord's glories
• Kirtanam: Chanting the Lord's glories
• Smaranam: Remembering the Lord
• Pāda-sevanam: Serving the Lord's feet
• Arcanam: Worshiping the Lord
• Vandanam: Offering prayers to the Lord
• Dasyam: Considering oneself as an eternal servant of the Lord
• Sakhyam: Serving God in the mode of friendship
• Atma-Nivedanam: Completely surrendering oneself to God

Hiranyakashipu pushed Prahlada from a mountain. Bhoomadevi then caught Prahladha and asked what boon he wanted for which Prahladha selflessly answered: when small children like me fall on earth when they start walking on your surface, oh Bhooma Devi, You should protect them without hurting by making Your surface soft like that of a flower. This retelling of the puranic story makes it so apt to this narrative.

May you stand tall and rooted in everything you do, Niraamaya

May you learn to explore on your own, and may Bhooma Devi protect you, keeping you safe and secure.

Wishing you many more firsts!

A Manicuring affair!

Akin to manicured nails with pointy edges bearing yellow nail-paint 

Cream-colored stemmy fingers stacked closely  

Safely locked in beet-red, leafy envelopes 

The stems, bearing an almost exact semblance with human fingers, except they’re way thinner! 

Even the arch in the center is visible in every stemmy finger, as they stay closely stacked. 

Unboxing or Unleafing them, if you will...is a painstakingly rewarding process. 

The end goal is to catch the “kallan” (thief) and take it out tactically, without tearing the stemmy fingers apart too much!

Each stemmy finger is enclosed in a skin-colored leafy-case…

A tender spreading-apart of the stemmy fingers, would expose the “kallan” out right away! 

The “kallan” would stand out with a blackhead, amidst the other thin stems enclosed within, and it’s easy to identify! 

Each “kallan” is thus deftly taken out until all the stemmy fingers are freed of the black sheep amidst them! 

The beet-red leafy envelopes and the “kallans”are discarded! 

As the beet-red leafy envelopes get discarded one after another, layer after layer, 

The stemmy fingers continue to be discreetly hidden within the leafy envelopes, almost as if they’re caved-in with great protection. 

The stemmy fingers begin to look a lot whiter and tender, as the main stem is disrobed of all the leaves... 

What’s left of this arduous effort is a bunch of neatly manicured fingers and nails 

And a pointy bouquet-like mainframe, against which all these leafy envelopes and stemmy fingers chose to stay put and rested.  

They’re all ready to be chopped into fine pieces for a tasty side-dish, along with a meal of rice! 

My paternal grandma used to reduce this task to nothing but having to identify the kallan, making it sound like a game, invoking interest in the activity. 

She used to say – if you take the “kallan” out, I’ll give you the “vennai” (butter)! 

Child-like delight in awaiting the butter until the end, only to realize that it’s not the real butter after all, 

But a spongy portion with a particular taste that’s pretty much acquired! 

A look back into one’s own fingers would show a dark expression of the stain from the plush banana flower, that was just manicured, after all! 

Your own hands would yearn for a manicure, thanks to coconut oil, that would do the trick of stain-removal! 

The Vazhai Poo / Banana Flower is a testament to tough chopping and vegetable-handling techniques! 

Such a pleasure doing this work, to watch creation in every hidden leafy corner! 

 

Because it’s not always Black and White.

 

Because it’s not always Black and White.

Everything isn't either black or white, nor does it belong to the gray color scale. If all instructions were followed to the T by everyone, with the things they do, then there would be no scope for improvement, the world would be perfect, wouldn't it?

Consider this, all of us have access to internet, and of course google is the Guru, so much so that Guru Poornima wishes are dedicated to Google. Fair. But would everyone know the hack of what to google when in the search bar? Isn't it the keywords that make the difference? I mean that's how boolean search is a basis for most search logic. Same with ChatGPT, so there's no real need to fear about AI taking away jobs, if we did our jobs right to begin with.

So, if we'd like to be successful in the age of IOT, the HOW of things need to be looked into, rather than just the WHAT. There's a famous quote that says - "It's not what you do, it's how you do it."

Statements that generalize a person's efforts are such a put-off and are a sign of absolute lack of empathy.  When you hear something like - "everyone does it probably the same way," you know for sure that the person hasn't paid an iota of attention to the level of detail you put in, to the day-to-day work.

Just because someone is carrying something very well, doesn't mean it isn't heavy. If you pay closer attention, you will certainly understand the nuances that make them not just "appear" successful, but really successful.

It's perhaps because they are diligently trying to put in efforts to learn while on the task,

It’s perhaps because they have diligently developed 3 different types of intelligence : emotional, spiritual and cultural.

It’s perhaps because they’re excellent communicators,

It’s perhaps because they don't procrastinate, because it's the thief of time,

It's perhaps because they're disciplined,

It's perhaps because they're more efficient in managing time,

It's perhaps they're very good with networking with people,

It's perhaps because of a dozen other things, which we're not privy to.

Whatever it may be, but just from the outside, never assume it's either black or white or probably a gray scale. For all you know, it could be a whole new color palette. That’s how Purple has been one of my favourites, lately. I've learned to accept there could be subtler nuances and more color combinations, which could bring out the best in us, both literally and figuratively!

One minor alteration in the way we do things could perhaps be the game changer. 

Leaving you with a thought, before you are tempted to generalise people's efforts, the next time:

A nice story about effort vs. skill – a good reminder that in many areas of work/life, time and outcome aren’t always aligned. A giant ship’s engine failed. The ship’s owners tried one ‘professional’ after another but none of them could figure out how to fix the broken engine.

Then they brought in a man who had been fixing ships since he was young. He carried a large bag of tools with him and when he arrived immediately went to work. He inspected the engine very carefully, top to bottom. Two of the ship’s owners were there watching this man, hoping he would know what to do. After looking things over, the old man reached into his bag and pulled out a small hammer. He gently tapped something. Instantly, the engine lurched into life. He carefully put his hammer away and the engine was fixed!!!

A week later, the owners received an invoice from the old man for $10,000.

What?! the owners exclaimed. “He hardly did anything..!!!”.

So they wrote to the man; “Please send us an itemized invoice.”

The man sent an invoice that read:

 Tapping with a hammer………………….. $2.00

 Knowing where to tap…………………….. $9,998.00

 Effort is important but experience and knowing where to direct that effort makes all the difference.

 

 

Love-letter

Titled intentionally, lest anyone decides to give this read a customary skip, just after viewing the post. 

The evening before:

Ritual 1: A piece of paper, with all current ailments carefully written down in the order of occurrence. Quite meticulously done because the experiencer of the pain and trauma feels it physically, penetrating into the mental layers as well. Hence this is but an inevitable exercise: that of writing down the grievances. Just like how we have learnt about grievance cells back in schools days from the Business Studies text book. We’re taught that when there are any “complaints,” raise them. So, job well done here, by the patient.

Ritual 2: A travel bag is prepared with all things that can be used for a quick one-day trip. A plate, a couple of tumblers, a spoon, coffee, sugar, citrusy fruits, pomegranates, at times…newspaper, towels, water bottle, lunch for the day, scissors, knife, and lastly, a thick strand of HOPE, powered by Chants and Prayers.

The day of travel: 

The bag is packed and carried, to a not-so-far-off destination, lest it’s made to look like a trip to a picnic spot. It’s for a 21-day window of getting doses of medication. The organism that rules the illness never gets tired of living. It has to be tamed, in order for it to tone down, and not rear its ugly head, to make its way to the rest of the human body. 

Blood pressure levels are checked on the day of the hospital visit. A note is then handed over to the doctor for review. The patient seems to take note of all current difficulties so that the doctor can potentially provide remedies. We’re already privy to the fact that there’s no cure. It has been repeated a zillion times, in many ways. However, the mind chooses to think - just like a fever, this would get cured, over a few pills.

The doctor found a cooler way to address this conflicting reality: rather than being completely brazen about the facts, he chooses to term the note from the patient as a “love-letter.” So much so that, he voluntarily asks, “where’s my love-letter for today?!” 

With that, the air gets lighter, because the air in the room is filled with love. 

Everything cools down with some love, perhaps. If only we choose to tone down, view things differently, rather than making something sound complicated. Some magic and love would lighten things up, even if it doesn’t reverse the situation. 

Feel better, Dearest Appa. A big thanks to our amazing oncologist, who’s our saviour - the mastermind behind the love-letter idea. 

Happy birthday, to us!

 

Together, we grow older, to achieve a milestone – for the two of us, unequally, equal – in the wildest of it forms.

All the holler about oh one year flying so fast, time flies, enjoying while they’re still young, enjoying every moment – Well time didn’t fly – every single day is etched, this is no exaggeration – for having ran through the errands one after another – wading through long days and nights.

Going without food is easy, but not without sleep, but thanks for helping me conquer the want to sleep – over day and night. It’s insanely beautiful, thanks to my coffee! I’d wait for Coffee’o’clock, a reason to date with coffee.

Learning to identify physical growth through rows of clothes on the clothesline – each time I go up to dry after every manual wash – little pieces of cloth that made for initial clothing, have become longer, and broader, if you will. Each time the cloth is set to dry on the clothesline, the smell of Dettol on my fingers and the clothes attracts me for a quick few – to stand by and feel every dress that was gifted. And that’s how I recollect every piece of clothing that was gifted, from the time of birth. 

An unwavering fetish to remember the little things, without having the adrenaline rush to have them as a "photographed memory." Thanks for the impetus to get my focus straight.

Learning to bend and flex despite being injected in the spine, to bring you to the world. With each painful feeling, I’d utter Niraamaya – your pristine name, to free me of any disease!

Work is something that I dreaded the most to deal with – amidst all the chaos. Thanks to the tough project management training on the job, about 18 years of experience, has been paying off – in terms of handling daily eventualities and challenges. I had projects as babies, prior to having a human baby :)

No, you didn’t grow old just like that, neither did I. Neither is this a RANT. It’s super encouraging to face even more challenges, as they come along – one at a time, with complete SURRENDER to my dear Krishna!

This is why the tattoo on my hand feels so good – painstakingly incredible of how the 1 year came to be, and my 40th!

Happy Birthday, to my fellow May and Edavam born (Malayalam month). Thanks for making me AMMA.

Love,

Usha – together we grow older, to achieve a milestone.

 

 

 

Ponnor alle enikende!

 

Ponnor alle enikende!

(Only the people leaving need to wake up, right?!)

There was a “Lakshmi” nicknamed as “Echumu,” back in the school days of my father and Chitappa (father’s younger brother), at this small town of “Cherpu,” in Thrissur district, state of Kerala. 

Echumu was referred by my grandmom, for working at a friend’s house, to help with the household chores. The referral was done with much ado back then, as though it was for an official posting. This was an official posting too, albeit it was for a home with office goers and school goers. 

The very first day of work Echumu’s workday was quite an eye-opening one for her so-called “employer,” when she uttered a statement in a lazy affirmative! 

When one of the seniors at home shouted out in the morning: Echumu, wake up! The kids have to go to school and the others have to go out to their offices, Echumu replied in a sleepy state of oblivion, yet without an iota of doubt: “Ponnor alle enikende!” (Meaning, only the people leaving out for the day must wake up earlier right?! Why must I ?) And that hit them really hard, right on the first day of her work: it was quite a litmus test of sorts! 

Let’s pause for a moment and take a bit of a deeper dive into Echumu’s concept! From a literal sense, yes, it’s only the people who have to step out of the house that need to wake up early! When a sense of service is applied, it’s the people who are of service that need to be more prompt and punctual than the actual person who’s stepping out itself. For it’s their preparation that instills the sense of confidence, commitment and preparedness in the person who’s stepping out, with a preset notion of their plans for the day. 

If the person who is of service is delayed, then the household is technically delayed… almost like a butterfly-effect. The person who is of service in this case can be anyone who decides to take up the responsibility of providing for, of caring for. When deciding to offer help, one needs to stay ahead of the others, so as to stay organised and orderly.

It calls for a lot of personal ethics of truly wanting to help another, irrespective of any schedule alterations we may have to go through. It could be a tough task of having to wake up early, travel or whatever it is, to make things possible for another: but it’s truly the willingness of wanting to be of help to another: not just mentally, but physically being there and doing the actual work for them. This is the time when the phone enquiries become a nuisance: on wanting to constantly check by way of messages; in the name of care and follow-up. 

I am witness to a non-Echumu incident when I was in Chennai in Jan this year. My Chitappa had woken up ahead of time to ensure I had breakfast ready on the table before I could leave for the day: he woke up 2 hrs ahead, to finish his chores first, and then care for me. He had managed it all on his own, that too, in less than a year of the passing of my Chiti (Chitappa’s wife). 

Even more out of the way, was another stellar example of my father’s childhood friend and his wife, who preponed their ticket to Chennai, just to be able to receive me at their home, even if it was a short amount of time. Despite their flight arriving late in the night at around 9pm, they had homemade dinner ready for me, even when I stepped into their home at 10.45pm. The smell of piping hot dosas was tempting for sure! They could’ve very well ordered and kept quiet about it, no qualms about it whatsoever! They could’ve easily told me that they were not in station and I would’ve for sure, understood! But it is the willingness of wanting to be there for me, when I needed it the most, which is a great display of respect and love, above all, of being humane. 

It’s truly about being there for a person, in whatever way you can, not just conceptually, mentally over the phone. For these are our chances to be of help to another… we can start from our own home first, before one ventures out! Charity begins at home, FIRST.  When you have ailing parents and aging members, it is the  physical presence that takes precedence over any other. And when there physically, lead the way and put on the servicing hat, rather than just thinking in the head about concepts of helping people, some day in the future. 

Ponnor maathram alla enikkende, Namallum!!

(It’s not just the people who are leaving who need to wake up, but also us!)

Void

Filled, yet void, with the depth of it, unknown - perhaps till the tail-end of memories. 

A tradition of sitting down on the floor over a snack or post-food, for viewing physical photos: feeling the photo-sheets those memories were printed on, reading the name of the photo studio where the memories were brought to light & life too, bumping into the negatives from which they were developed and turned into positives. There was this strange redness and sepia tone drunk up by the “negative” rolls, through which we still had the uncanny ability of seeing through the negative. 

Photo-viewing sessions were organised by my dear Sundar Chitappa and made fun for all of us cousins. It’s our time to unwind, as well as rewind to the good old times. So much innocence that meets the eye through these photographs, where no grand posing happened. Although some of them were planned pics, they’d come out to be as candid. 

And then struck a void, which began striking in regular intervals. A filled home, dwindling in numbers, in a steady fashion: what used to be a joint exercise of viewing pictures, started turning into a solitary activity - with me just clicking a picture off of a picture, so that I could share it in turn. Somehow, to me, eventhough I click these pics from the physical photos, the memory associated with the original picture remains etched, even without having to be reminded by artificial intelligence. The voices of the people present in the picture rings heavily in my head as they leave a void in the room, with some of my brothers just hanging there up in the wall of the room, in a mere photo-frame, for they’re resting up there in their heavenly abode. 

Today, The phone and social media do the reminding - This Day, Last Year, for us to be transported back to the thought. How sad, isn’t it? We tend to reduce the capacity of our own thinking and ability of remembering, just because of dependency on this gadget called - mobile phone.