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.