A to Z challenge - W for Window sights

My first fascination in life. As a kid, during our rare family outings, my brother and I would fight for the window seat in the public transport bus. I would be super thrilled when I grab one (with no premium charge!).

Harsh wind beating against my face never bothered me. I would hold on to the narrow rod on the bus window and look at trees, shops, electric poles and people whizzing past as the bus gained speed. 

The fascination only grew with me. When I went home on my first vacation from Chennai where I started working, I was in the second class sleeper compartment of a train. It was April and scorching in Chennai. When I got up after a sleepless night in train, the window sights were so refreshing. The train had reached Palakkad. 

Lush green fields were running past and the whiff of fresh paddy was wafting across. The first feeling of homecoming came in through that open window of the train compartment.

Another instance I was traveling from Bangalore to Mangalore by Karwar Express. It was day train and I was in AC chair car. Tired after working late in the night, I dozed off in the train for a while. When I woke up, what I saw seemed a dream. Clouds descending on blue hills... 

Then it was the abundance of green fields in Punjab, the serenity of Uttarakhand or the stillness of Bihar villages... I make sure I don't sleep or read if the travel is day time 

The sights, sounds and light that seep in through any window bring along a unique feeling of life that goes on outside. 

A to Z challenge - V for Vacation

Once upon a time, it was just the summer vacation. The hope that kept us going through every 10-month session in school. Back then parents never worried about children forgetting the lessons during vacation and hence didn't send us for tuitions to prepare us for the next academic year. 

We spent our time exploring nature and enjoying outdoor games through the day, and watching our fill of TV programs in the evenings. There was a pineapple jungle, a cashew forest and paddy fields to explore. There were mango trees all around to discover new tastes. There was a lilly pond from where we would return with huge bunches of waterlilly in our hands. There were narrow streams running through fields and coconut groves that had a particular variety of tiny fish that would leap up to the surface of water to gobble up the white frothy balls of our saliva we collect in mouth and spit out on to the water. 

After school, vacations shrunk. Life was more unpredictable after every sessions. After Bachelor's degree, there were uncertainties of what next. Still the vacation was well-spent. I had a bunch of  cousins and kids from the neighborhood for company. End of teens or early adulthood never prevented me from enjoying fun games with them, our most favourite being hide-and-seek and touching-the-tree game.

Then it was the short vacations between four semesters of post-graduation. I continued to indulge in my favourite games and chat sessions in the evenings. A half-wall was our meeting point. Plots of lands weren't divided by huge walls then. It was just the base of walls that divided the plots. One such base was our adda. 

We would also play the indoor game of king-queen-police-robber outdoors. During summers, raw mangoes, rose apples, custard apple, cashew fruit and sometimes jackfruit would add taste to our sessions. All fresh from our backyard.

In 2004, I started working. First in Chennai, later Bangalore and now Delhi. Thus, after student life, vacations meant home. The short trips with friends I count as a different holiday. Initially it was a week or 10 days I would get every 4 months or so. From Delhi, the frequency has reduced to twice a year -- of two weeks each. 

Whatever the duration is, vacations mean that whiff of fresh air, inhaling that aroma of fresh rain, enjoying whatever is left of the green environs and catching up with friends and family. Mostly, reliving those carefree days... 

A to Z challenge - U for Up in the Sky

For me, air travel is boring. The stillness you feel at a high altitude takes away all fun of a journey, I feel. But not just after take-off or before landing. And definitely not when you have clouds to fly alongside. The tales they script on the skies keep me engaged forever.

Here are some frames from the garden of clouds Up in the Sky, taken during a trip from New Delhi to Thiruvananthapuram. 

A to Z challenge - T for Tiger Hills

It was during our first trip to Darjeeling in West Bengal that I came across the word Tiger Hills. Sunrise at Tiger Hills was listed as must-watch in all prominent websites about Darjeeling. We didn't want to miss it either. 

The time four friends from South India chose to visit Darjeeling wasn't, however, the best. It was peak winter in January 2015 when we landed there. The minimum temperature was around 3 degrees Celsius. Jackets  and woollens from the South weren't sufficient for such harsh winter. Still we enjoyed the stay in the Hills, at an army guest house. 

The previous night of Tiger Hills visit, one among four of us withdrew. She declared that she wasn't coming with us for the early morning trip. We tried to coax her into it but she didn't budge. We had to leave the guest house at 4.30am. 

I was the one upbeat about it and had decided to go even if alone. Anyway, three of us started on time in the morning. Even with thick coats and boots, we were shivering. The moment we stepped out of the vehicle at the viewpoint, we realised that it wasn't going to be easy. 

Accompanied by two armymen, we positioned in a place that was already crowded. We had couple of cups of tea to warm ourselves, but to no avail. There was still 30-45 minutes before the sun to come out. And our bones were freezing. We tried to keep ourselves warm by rubbing our palms and staying close to each other. 

Cold pierced through my body. I felt my fingers and toes were falling off. The pain was increasing by the minute. We put up a real struggle to stay there. 

After a short wait that felt like ages, we heard the crowd exult. And we saw the tip of the snow peak turn into a sparkling golden spot. The first rays of sun had fallen on the top of the peak. The devout started chanting mantras praising the Sun God.

It appeared so surreal. We were in awe. The size of the golden cap of the peak started increasing with increasing glow. We didn't bat an eyelid as the sparkle turned brighter. 

Another expression of joy from the crowd signalled the sun rising from the other side. And the glow on the peak opposite grew. It was just breathtaking. We were speechless. Nature was at its best. None of our cameras captured the moment as our hearts did. 

When we descended the hill, still shivering, we were thrilled that we did it. Till date the same thrill remains. 

A to Z challenge -- S for Sounds and Silence

I hit bed around 3.30am daily after working till 2am. The sounds that accompany me to the bed are of trucks rushing through the road nearby and the occasional chorus music of stray dogs.  

Around 6.30am, it will be the milkman calling out at my neighbour's gate and the thud of newspaper bundle that bangs against my door.

Sometime later will be the racket of children going to school and motors pumping water. Direct water is available only from 6 to 8 in the mornings and evenings. 

By 9am or so, it will be some construction work in the neighborhood -- drillingof walls, workers carrying some heavy material, breaking concrete, etc. I'll be lucky if I catch some sleep for three hours without any disturbance.

I start for work around 4.15pm. The rickshaw ride to metro station is with the accompaniment of incessant honking of vehicles. I look forward to the 8-minute journey by Metro that's less noisy. But then there will be a co-passenger who opts to watch a video without headphones or a bunch of college kids chattering away next to me. 

At the exit station, there are electric rickshaws vying for space. The rickshawallahs call out for people and once they get five passengers, it is the struggle to get out of the area. As one rickshaw is filled, others look to push their vehicle to the spot closer to the metro gate, banging against other vehicles in the process. And a heated exchange between the two rickshawallahs ensues.  

The 5-6 minute ride may take longer depending on the traffic. Other than Sundays, the erickshaw makes its way through a sea of vehicles, with the engine noise and honking reverberating in the air. 

At workplace, the chatter of colleagues, occasional burst of laughters, shouting across desks during peak hours, and what not. When I call it a day, my brain would be buzzing with all the sounds it had to process during the day. 

And I search for my silence...

A to Z challenge - R for Rasgolla

I lived in Patparganj area in East Delhi for three months when I came to Delhi in June 2015. One evening with I was on way back from market, I saw a municipal van carrying garbage stopped on the roadside. 

Two street children were rummaging through the waste in the carrier van for edibles and recyclables. One of the boys exulted holding a pack he recovered from the garbage, "Rasgolla milaaaa... (I got Rasgolla)" and ran.

And the other boy started chasing him to snatch it from him. I froze on the road. Tears were unstoppable.

Rasgollas, a popular Indian sweet with its origin in eastern part of the country, would find its place in garbage van only when stale. I imagined how the little children (who were 7-10 years) would be relishing the stale Rasgollas. 

Buying them a fresh pack of Rasgollas wouldn't have solved the problem anyway. Helpless and ashamed, I continued my walk home, carrying a bagful of fresh vegetables and groceries I bought for the week. 

A to Z challenge - Q for Que será, será

Que será, será 
Whatever will be, will be 
The future's not ours to see 
Que será, será…

Goes the 1956 song https://youtu.be/xZbKHDPPrrc

It is my mantra during all highs and lows... Nothing more needs to be written... Just believe in it! 

A to Z challenge - P for Parameshwari

"Didiii... Kaamwali chahiye (Sister, you want a maid?)," she called out from my gate. 

I was new to this East Delhi house in April 2016. I stepped out to see who it was and saw a frail old woman standing with folded hands. She requested to give her some job. I told her politely that I don't need anyone at the moment as I preferred to do all the work myself.

A few days later, she again came and offered to clean toilets everyday for Rs 300 per month. I felt bad thinking what would be making her to take up jobs at such paltry sums, that too at her age. She looked over 70 years. 

Since I had no intention or necessity to keep a domestic help, I gave her some money or clothes or food whenever she came to me. 

After several such instances, I felt she was taking advantage of it. She would come to my house asking for water and when I give her water, she would narrate some story and ask for money. One was that her son was falsely implicated in a case and jailed. Another time, she wanted help to consult a doctor as she was unwell. Then it was her grandchild who was sick, etc. 

There were instances when I got really angry with her for ringing the bell when I was sleeping after night shift. I have told her repeatedly not to disturb me before 11am. Many times she irked me with her reasonings. Then I feel bad. 

Parameshwari (that is her name) still comes at least twice a month, to remind me of my blessings. 

A to Z challenge - O for Olfactory magic

It's like songs that transport us to a different period... Certain scents have that capability. I am borrowing some parts from a post I put up in 2013.

There's a deo that reminds me of the smell after bath at our grandmother's home with the green Cinthol soap. Six grandchildren would take turns to have bath and there would be competition to 'inaugurate' the new soap. 

The smell of hot iron box on starched cotton takes me to the Sundays years ago when my father would press our uniforms and his Mundu (traditional wear for men in South India). He would ask us to hold the ends of his starched Mundu to stretch and fold it.

 
The red Lifebuoy soap also reminds me of my father. He never switched brand even after several of them splurged the market. We demanded a new one everytime we saw an advertisement.  

The fresh bundle of clothes that arrives from laundry carries with it the aroma of my grandmother's wardrobe where all her Mundu and neriyathu (traditional Kerala wear) were neatly arranged. 

The scent of jasmine flowers has many associations that instantly transports me to my childhood. And later the city I started working -- Chennai. It was the scent of evenings in Chennai.

The smell of wicks burning in brass oil lamps reminds me of temple visits years ago... The heat and sweat when we light the huge lamp with hundreds of wicks for the evening puja. 

The aroma of crushed cardamoms meant Amma making payasam at home. The scent of cashews roasting on embers that waft across our lane would make us run home from school. Even the evenings and mornings had different smell then. So as rainy days and sunny days. 

Certain scents are gone forever. Still they retain the power to tug me back to that time. 

A to Z challenge - M for Monsoon

The best time to be in Kerala, which otherwise has only summer as a season. When my friends rue over black clouds rolling across the sky calling it depressing weather, I would be enthralled. 

There was a time when rains brought down immense joy. When e spent time jumping into the water-filled shallow manure pits around coconut trees in our backyard. The tender grass below would provide enough care for our young feet. 

As the rain lasts longer, the puddle would widen, eventually filling an entire area of our coconut grove, making it look like a  backwater. Then emerges water springs at certain locations. The way fine sand makes way for the water springs was a sight to watch. We would dig the area further so as to trace the origin of the spring that comes out tickling our little fingers. 

When playing and flying kites on the fields where harvest is over, it is the race against the rain. Dark clouds would roll over snatching away the bright evening from us and we hear the storm buzzing from far. We sprint home to protect our kites that we made spending hours, especially to get the thread knot right that enables it fly steady. As the buzz grows, we garner pace and finally crash on to the verandah of our home as the rain beats down. 

With global warming and climate change intensifying, it has affected rain patterns also. Sometimes it is downpour that lasts for days, flooding the tiny state and sometimes it is scanty rainfall that leaves the state scorching for months together. 

One thing that hasn't changed is the way I associate Kerala to rains. 

A to Z challenge - L for Later

Did you call her? 

Busy now... Later

Coming for a movie? 

No... at work... Later 

Shall we meet today? 

Too many things... Later

I wanna talk to you...

Not now, later

I need some help...

Drop a msg. Will reply later

Going to the hills. Joining?

May be some time later

Are you free now? 

Gotta catch some sleep. Later

Got tickets for a play...

I'm not free today... Later

And the later never came...

A to Z challenge - K for Kittu

Kittu aka Jackie. Kittu for me, Jackie for kids in the colony. He came to my life when I shifted to the present rented accommodation in East Delhi in 2016. 

One among the many stray dogs in the colony I befriended, he was initially skeptical to strike a friendship with me. Soon he added meaning to my mornings. I would often wake up to him whining at my gate gently, in an indication to open it for him. 

I would open the gate, he would dash into the bathroom outside my house that was unused. I would keep it clean for him to sleep after a light meal and water I offered him. 

I would pet him for a while, brush him, which he loved, and often bathe him, which he hated. Then he would snuggle up in his favourite corner and ignore me. He showed the maturity of his age (he was around 12 years old then) by not indulging in any mischief like younger dogs did.

When I start for work in the afternoon, I'd call him from my door. I would speak in Malayalam, my native language -- "Kittooo, I'm leaving... come, I need to lock the gate."  And he would come running and wait for me to put on my shoes. Both of us would leave the place together. He would get another handful of pedigree if his nap was too long.

And it all ended. I was away at home on vacation for two weeks. Usually when I get back from vacation, he would come running and express his joy of meeting me after long. But in September 2018, when I got back from vacation, it was different. He didn't come to me. I didn't have the heart to ask my neighbours as I feared something worse. 

Couple of days later I asked the uncle nextdoor about Kittu. He told me Kittu died. I didn't check for details... All I knew was he got some care in his last days.

I still have canine companions here. But the void that Kittu left remains... 

A to Z challenge - J for Jasmine

It wasn't just a fragrance then... As a school child when I was fascinated by the long strings of white flowers that adorned a girl's braids.  

Summer vacation was the time when the jasmine vines were decorated with buds. By evening, girls would set out for the jasmine pandals (as we used to call them) in the neighborhood. 

We learned from our grandmother how to pluck the mature buds that would bloom the next day. She also taught us how to tie them in a long string using fibre from plantain tree. It is easier to tie them as buds; not when fully bloomed. There were different varieties with slim buds, fatter buds and the one with layers of petals. The fragrance differed with each variety.

Refrigerators were not common then. We would hang the long string of buds on trees that would be a thick string of flowers by morning. The aroma would waft across the area. 

Sometimes we wouldn't want the buds to be open fully. Then we would fold the string of buds in a fresh plantain leaf and keep it overnight. The result will be flowers in half-bloom, which used to be a hit among girls then. The highlight was that it would retain the aroma and remain fresh throughout the day. 

Any wedding in the neighborhood, there would be an army of girls to string heaps of jasmine together. It was supposed to be worn by all women/girls in the wedding house. Not sporting flowers on hair in a wedding house was considered to be inauspicious.

The heartburn when a cousin gets a longer string than mine and the thrill of having a string almost my length... It was all gone when we grew up and the string soon became out of fashion for our attire and style. It is not a must even at weddings now. 

In the concrete jungles I lived later, the reminders of the humble white flower were many -- perfumes, deodorants, talcum powder, room fresheners, floor cleaners... Only the flowers were missing. 

A to Z challenge - I for Independence I gained through radio cabs

It was in Bengaluru that I was introduced to app-based cabs. Radio cabs, as they are called, met with stiff opposition from local taxi drivers in respective cities.

In no time, app-based cabs gained huge popularity in metro cities, tourist places and also small towns. And, I gained a newfound independence. 

Whether it is Bengaluru where I worked earlier or Delhi where I work now or the cities I travel to occasionally, app-based cabs are my constant companions.

Reaching hospital or airport at the oddest of hours is not a worry any more. No more disappointment over not being able to attend a party just because of the venue is in a corner of the city strange to me. 'Directionally challenged' as I call myself, these cabs have induced a new confidence in me to explore unknown terrains. 

No more fretting over my driving licence that I never really used in almost a decade after acquiring it. No worries over lugging heavy bags of household items from shops. No tension about taking my little nephews for an outing when I'm home. 

More importantly, no more energy lost haggling with autorickshaw drivers, spending precious time. All at no extra cost! 

A to Z challenge - H for Handwritten words

What I miss receiving and giving the most -- handwritten words. 

It may read as a continuation of my previous blog on greeting cards. Because handwritten words were immediately associated with the long letters I used to write till the Gmail era. 

As a school student, I used to be thrilled when my language teachers gave a 'good', 'very good' or '5/5' in my copy writing book. The beauty of my writing only evolved with doing it more. 

Till I completed my post-graduation, I never really missed handwritten words. That was the time I was introduced to emails. 

A prolific letter writer, I would never let my friends who were far miss any happenings in my life. Writing the way I talk, my letters were always long. Very rarely I stopped with one sheet of paper. Mostly it ran into 6 pages, which could be sent at the minimum cost of postal envelope then. There were occassions when my friends had to cough up an amount to receive my letter that weighed extra.  

It all stopped with the internet boom. Still I used to write long emails that were eventually eliminated by instant messages. The smell of ink, the folding of paper, the hours of focus were all lost... along with the connect through handwritten words...

A to Z challenge - G for Greeting cards

Meadows, roses and castles... They made me feel that life was full of all that. Perhaps the very first seeds of  misconceptions in life came through greeting cards but along with immense joy. 

The sight of postman during Christmas-New Year season would excite me no end. I would eagerly wait for him to stop by and hand over the envelops that came my way. And if he didn't stop, it meant there was no card for me that day. Disappointment would set in but it would soon give way to hope the next day. 

With pocket money collected through the year, I used to buy greeting cards for my friends. Some of them would return the greetings while some wouldn't. Only the ones I received counted. It mattered so much that I have preserved them decades on. 

A printed greeting card became expensive and the effort to send one came a waste of time in the internet era. Flowing with the current, I also stopped sending physical cards... Stopping the arrival of joy in a sealed envelope. 

A to Z challenge - F for Flowers of Kashmir

On our first trip to Kashmir, we were on way to our hotel from the airport. It was May and summer was setting in at the Valley. Apart from the several security checkpoints that are not common in the rest of the country, we were also surprised by the bunch of flowers adorning green bushes everywhere.

The huge unches drooping down seemed unusual. At some point I exulted on discovering that they were in fact roses. One of my friends refused to agree and others were not sure. Our cab driver put an end to our argument by confirming they were roses. I got goosebumps when I finally saw them close and got to touch them at the garden of our hotel. 

It wasn't common in the peninsula where I'm from. 

The floral surprise had just begun. The varieties Kashmir offered us were mind blowing. Three days of sightseeing offered us some thousand colours... If colour therapy works, all you should do is visit Kashmir during spring. 

I did and it helped :)

A to Z challenge - E for Elections

It is election season in India. The world's largest democracy is preparing to vote from April 11. A painfully long process in seven phases will end on May 19 and the results on May 23 will decide the five-year future of the country.

Political parties are trying their best to woo the voters. Parliamentarians are visiting their constituencies like never before. They have perhaps made up for their absence of four and half years in the past two months. 

It's a big business too. Projects that were signed just before the model code of conduct came into force are going on in full swing. Small time traders to big players who deal with election paraphernalia are making hay. 

Amid all this, the biggest strength of democracy -- the people -- are swamped with promises of a better tomorrow that never reached after similar promises every five years earlier.

Still they live on hope and are getting ready to flaunt the indelible ink on their index finger. 

A to Z challenge - D for Dance

Swaying to music in rhythm. Letting your soul free through your body. The ultimate joy of being yourself. That's what dance is for me. 

No, I'm not a professional dancer. Nor was I trained in it since young age. I started learning Kathak at the age of 37 and later zumba. I had to give up both after a year and half due to some issues. 

The first para is what the dance classes made me realise after I stopped it. Now I've resumed hunt for a good institute to pursue my passion. I realised in those few months that it's better late than never. There's no stopping you if you want to master something with all your heart. 

A to Z challenge - C for Cycle-rickshaw

When I came to Delhi in 2015 to join a new organisation, the first thing that caught my attention was the ubiquitous cycle-rickshaws. 

Initially I was reluctant to take the ride. I couldn't put a person through the ordeal of pedalling me around, sweating and panting when it was the peak of summer.

The rickshaw wallahs, as they are called, are mostly men. He rarely sports an untorn shirt or a proper footwear with  the struggle writ large on his face often. From the comfort of a seat that has a roof behind him, I often feel guilty of the harsh sun that hits him hard. In winters, the sweaters in tatters and torn shoes speak of their struggle.

I stayed away from the humble vehicle for some days. Then I noticed the pair of eyes shining at the sight of a prospective passenger walking to the apartment gate. He gets ready for another gruelling ride, probably in an empty stomach. I realised I wasn't helping them by staying away. 

Whenever I step out of the apartment thinking I should walk a kilometre to the metro station and burn some calories, I spot those men waiting hopefully for another 20 rupees. And I get on to the rickshaw.

A to Z challenge -- B for Bandh

Bandh -- a word Indians are familiar with, especially the people in Kerala. It involves complete shutdown, including essential services. Political parties call for bandh when their demands are not met or in opposition to a decision taken by the government. 

Pitched as God's own country by the state tourism department, Kerala is also bandh's own country, albeit in a new name, hartal. Hartal is a toned down version of bandh that came into being after the court made it mandatory for political parties to take prior permission to hold a bandh and so that people aren't inconvenienced much.

Kerala is perhaps the worst affected by public strikes and shutdowns, thanks to the strong tade unions that are active across the state.

Hartal earlier would involve shutdown of business establishments and shops. After a virtual ban imposed by the court on bandh, hartal became the new bandh. Parties would announce hartal and make sure it is a complete shutdown, often resorting to violence on any resistance.

Precious work hours are lost, businesses suffer huge loss, damage to public property is immense... not to forget about the inconveniences the public is put through. 

It's high time political parties turned sensible, and sensitive towards the people and stopped such invasion of their spaceand time. 

A to Z challenge - A for Ancestral home

It was too steep a slope leading home 

Many a times I slipped on the gravel, bruised my knees

The steps were too high

Many a times I sat on it, crawled up with my little legs

I would play under the dining table that was taller than me

I'd stretch on my toes to see the spread on it, reach the radio in the corner

Mom would make me sit on the table, feed me dinner

From the table, my eyes would search the top shelf  next to it

My brother and I would play on the window grills

Often the monkey act; swinging on the horizontal bars

We stretched to hold the higher bar 

And were thrilled to reach the next one

The cupboards were huge, we could hide on the shelves

The cot was wide, we could roll all around

The glass dividers on the mosaic floor were wide apart

My legs hurt as my brother won a hopscotch game

So high were the parapets; I leaned over it, my legs suspended

I couldn't reach the wash basin, I washed after meals on our yard

Standing on the rubber stopper behind the door, we swung it

The door banged as it ferried us to and fro; that was ecstasy then!

Terrace turned a pool when it rained 

We blocked the outlets and raced with our paperboats

Our laughter was drowned in the louder laughter of the rains 

I held by brother's hand to wade through water as if it was a river! 

And then...

The slope seemed almost plain and steps so short

The dining table too low and so were the shelves

We could touch the top of window sill 

And could no longer swing on the grill

The door shrieked, the cupboards seemed too small to hold us

Mosaic columns turned just half a step wide

Cot turned too tiny

We grew up!

The house stayed... 

Holding all our giggles and laughter and tears

Healing our bruises, heartburns and sorrows

Helping us forget the scoldings and rough weather

And heartily sending us off as we outgrew it...