Appooppan thaadi...Literal translation is grandpa's beard. But I don't know to translate what it meant to us when we were kids. The immense joy I got whenever I saw them flying around, especially during summer, I never got with anything. I still have a collection of those delicate sparkling whites in a box under my table, back home.
The droplets at the tip of the leaves of pine tree just outside journalism department in Kariavattom
A little girl following the footsteps of her white jooba-clad grandpa through the paddy field... That was me, once upon a time...
When my first 'letter to the editor' appeared in The Hindu, well before my tryst with journalism began, my amma told my brother with immense pride: "Look... After all, who made her write a,b,c,d.. first..." A moment I will cherish forever....
A girl, whose fear for crackers only grew with her age, gaining courage to watch the fireworks at a temple, falling flat on the ground with the first burst and watching the rest hiding behind the legs of the curious crowd with her ears plugged tight with her hands...Sigh...
As a bunch of primary kids, we were waiting for the manchadi tree (Coral Tree) in our school compound to bear seeds. It was a long wait as our tenure in the primary school was supposed to end that year. And, the tree didn't disappoint us. Just before the study leave started for the final exam, it gave us a few shining red seeds... They have always fascinated me that I used to pick them from our campus as a PG student!
A 3-year-old Ammu (my neighbourhood kid who became part of our family since she was 1 and still is my mother's foster daughter) waiting on the way to my home with her hands stretched up for my mother to pick her up...
A little girl hiding behing her aunt, frightened by the 'karuppampoochi' (cocroach) in the hands of her naughty little boyfriend. The girl was my Chennai hostel warden Jessy akka's niece Vini and the boy, our "iron anna's" (who used to iron our clothes) son.
Masaladosas at Adyar Ananda Bhavan and baji on the Marina
Walking in the rain. Of course not along a roadside with vehicles splashing all the gutter filth on to my dress, but where I can hear only the drizzle and where only the long threads of water from the heaven touch me...
And, when a laughter outshines the flowing tears...
4 comments:
too good :) enikku othiri ishtayi ammineede blog :) umma!
nirakanchiri...
Appopa thadi, manchadi and paddy fields brings back a lot of childhood memories ..
Adipoli post chachu....serikum orkan estapendunna kure karayangal....
Parya kalathu nammal Appupanthadikum ,machadikuruvinum ,kunikuruvinum adivakukayum mathsarikukayum cheyumayirunnu...but epol pelerakku koduthalum venda...wat a generation???
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