We saved his life - true story!

I was may be 8 years old. Happy playing with the 3 month old fox terrier pup, getting scared when my big brother said 'Kashmoooraaaaaa', embarrassing amma when she took me to her friends' homes by blurting out 'I am hungry', getting mid night whacks from my sister when I wet the bed and she had to change sheets as well as my clothes, secretly dreaming and being thrilled about my fathers green trunk as my friend told me she thinks it is full of money! Holding Hari's hand (who was 10 and some months old then) while crossing the road and listening to him say the same sentence every day 'come near my School as soon as yours is over' and I responded with a big nod while moving towards my class as unwillingly as a French convict facing the guillotine.

I did not yet know real sadness or trauma or drama even for that matter. One fine day, I was in School and my brother’s friend came to fetch me. My teacher looked sad and shocked as she spoke to him outside the classroom and she said ‘Aparna, please go with him, you are excused from the class’. For me I knew the friend and he told me guess what jokes when he came home so I skipped away from school happily behind him. (Guess what! Amma is gummy, appa is thorny but the sons are like Amitabh Bachchan – guess what is it? Answer: Jack fruit! clap clap clap)

He had come in his cycle, instead of making me sit in the front and pedal away, he started walking pushing the cycle and told me ‘Little one (putti) your anna had an accident, one more friend has gone to fetch Hari (my other brother), we need to go to the hospital ok?’. I said ok.

I did not know the meaning of accident and related hospitalization. Till we reached the hospital, I was happy about skipping School that day. When I reached, my mother, sister and brother were already there. We went to see where my brother was. We were taken to the general ward; all the beds were full with patients and their attendants. We searched for the familiar face of my brother and someone in the entourage said ‘here he is’.

All cots in the general ward were taken so they had made a makeshift arrangement on the floor with a bed and related sheets. The person who was on it had a fully swollen face – especially his right eye. I did not recognise him. He was unconscious. Amma was hysterical asking people – why is he not awake? what happened? Where is the doctor? Why is he on the floor? Please shift him to private ward and so on.

Naanna was away attending to his office work. He was informed. We were assured that as soon as the private ward is vacant he will be shifted. He was hit on the head by a fast cricket ball while playing the match and a neuro surgeon is coming from Bangalore (or some place) to examine him.

Nanna came and private ward opened up. He was shifted. I did not yet know the significance of him being unconscious for one and half days, I was not around when the neuro surgeon examined him, I did not yet know how lucky we were that he was alive though the impact of the ball left a dent in his skull forever and there was internal bleeding.

My belief then was if some one is sick, they go to hospital, they get better and they go home. So I was not worried much. Hari and I skipped school as many days as he was in the hospital, received well wishers and friends to the hospital room in all the glory of sister and brother of the patient, received bags full of fruits very humbly to be divided and devoured by both of us as soon as they left! I do not remember offering a piece of fruit to my other brother who was sleeping and waking at random intervals.

May be children with their strong beliefs and happy thoughts make miracles happen unknowingly.

Of rains, scorpions and love

She was thinking of cooking lunch in some time. There was no hurry since they had a good and late breakfast after which he had watched some T.V and slept. Easy, lazy Saturday for both. All of a sudden the sky was overcast, dark clouds gathered very quickly and it started raining heavily just like a PMSing herself would cry over a song or his inconsideration or over missing her people - big, heavy rain drops.

She always found herself excited when it rained and there were many reasons for that. Rains in her life time of 30 something years happened with animation. 

What was her first vague memory of heavy rain? Her family was in a transit home before moving into a proper one which would be made ready for them in some months. This was an asbestos sheeted living space which leaked every where when it rained, she remembered sleeping on the cot with her siblings while her parents sat with two big umbrellas to cover them. In retrospect, she felt sorry for her parents but for her the memory was of excitement of huddling together, giggling with her siblings and being up beyond her bed time. 

 

During later rains as she grew older the first thing her mother shouted when it started raining was 'hey it is raining, quick go get the clothes drying on the clotheline, quick close  the door, quick quick', this was accompanied by her and her siblings running in a mad dash to get dry, semi dry clothes from the line, becoming a bit wet, bumping into each other, tugging some clothes in impatience and tearing some one's precious garment and so on. Always what followed after the rain gave an implicit permission to throw the regular routine in the wind. Demands for pakodas or chilli bajjis were put forth and later when she was an young adult her brothers spoke of having some alcohol in the night to celebrate the rain. They all did too, she blossoming  into an efficient bar tender with a clever hand which tipped less to the tipsy and more to people who kept an eye on the pouring including herself.

There were scary memories of rain too. During her regular summer vacations in her grandparent's home with a mud terrace, she and her cousins were always woken up in the dead of the night from deep slumber to chaos of different relatives shouting different commands to different people, 'fold the bed sheet', 'do not run down the stairs', 'leave that pillow here', 'where is the lantern', 'children go with your grandpa he will take you down' and so on. The summer shower also brought scorpions out of their holes, she sat with her cousins bright eyed seeing scorpions every where in the shadows, snakes under the bed and too hyper to fall asleep forever. Nobody forced anybody to sleep, every body used to be wide awake and used to start talking and laughing again. This lulled her to sleep and not care for scorpions of  the  world. 

In one such Monsoon, her brothers met with an accident because it was rainy season. Those rains which started as an adventure while they were trekking the western ghats turned horrific as a train came un announced. Though they were lucky not to lose their lives the rain that night was the noisiest for her.

She remembered her first kiss. It happened when he was a new acquintance and there was electrifying chemistry between them. One fine night, they stood in the backyard of her friend's room, it started raining, there was no light, they were rooted in their spots not making a move towards going back in or going towards a shelter from rain. To this day both of them do not know what happened next, who approached whom, but they found themselves kissing. That rain was like a flower shower and intoxicating than any spirit she had ever tasted including Absinthe.

After that they made many trips to the pub regularly soaking wet and delirious in love. It was heady to drink chilled beer sitting in wet clothes engulfed by warm thoughts. They came to know that they will be together for ever during those nights and went there for every anniversary, birthday and family event.

Today the excitement of the rain made her bring the clothes from the clothes line, plan for making pakodas, call her mother, sister, brothers and sister in law and to kiss him awake.

Depressed after being oppressed too long and repressing the emotions

I am right now emerging out of the blues of depression which had taken a strong hold on me since couple of months. I read some where that depression is nothing but anger spread very thin .. In my case many justified reasons to be angry at one hand and denial of my longing to set things straight to the known rhythm of 7 years at the other.

Now in retrospect I feel I can forgive people for what they did unto me because in a way they did this unto themselves (not a very christian thought when put like that I know).

Things look bright again and there are many small little big things I look forward to right now...
everyday joyous greeting of a frenzied puppy - chinnu the 4, she is demented and loves me that way too – a bite here and a spray of piss there and licks which land any where

talking and playing best of 7 with amma during the post lunch lull and listening to her reminiscing about people and places and sometimes I get to hear some long buried secrets as well

my neice Bhuvi messaging me and calling me on her current interest – running commentary of what chinnu is up to – I love this connection with her and by the way I heard she told her mom and dad that 'Aparna atthe is cooool' – dude what more do I need to gloat about and glow about?

The fun banter begins again with annayya – we are no longer two intense sulky and surly individuals and may be it indicates that both of us are resurfacing to our true selves and I love that feeling

waking up to a good mood is a blessing and venky makes it better with his unconditional taking care (I have not cooked a single meal in months and only recently I am paying attention to home maintenance)

The trip to Bangalore to be with my brother, sister in law and neice – looking forward to this a lot. I feel totally heard and understood in this place.

Our (Venky and me) three day mini vacation this month where when and how not planned yet

a surprise visit to Hospet to see our dear friends there this month some time
of course tonight – catching up and giggling with tikky

Hope is eternal and here is hope to stay as it should be :)

As a comment to the previous post this emerged..

I slept on my arms
tightened around my knees
which are resting on the
part of earth I am aware of

I can hear myself breath,
live life one beat at a time,
knowing that air around me
will be there,
the resting head will be up,

Loving my own smell
and loving myself a bit more
I love you as a part of the
earth we stand on,
the air we breathe on
and the scent of you a bit more ...

Coming of age

I know my hair is soft and silky, the colour is pitch black and lustrous. I know how much effort I put in making it that way. Paste of methi seeds one day, steaming the roots and hot towel treatment another day, oiling and massaging with camphor and neem leaf smoked coconut oil and what not.

I know men look at me when I go out and they know that I know that. With anticipation of the world applauding and falling to my feet, I go out feigning nonchalance, tossing my hair and with wide open ears.

I sing in the bathroom passionately and wish that a music director walking in the street suddenly discovers the haunting melody coming from an untapped original voice and eureka!

I secretly hope that people think that I am beautiful. When I look in the mirror I see that I am beautiful to myself but what do others think? I curse my pug nose at one time because it makes my face round like a circle at other times I think it is fashionable to have a distinct nose.

I get lost in fantasies listening to music. Aamir Khan comes to Mysore and is riveted on the spot when he sees me. (Ponds dreamflower talc ad!). He does not have any other go but to follow me and bawl at my feet. Wow too much. What will I tell mom when that happens? I still need to study and I am only 16! will he wait till I am older?

I write poems and I become famous because the writers discover the uncanny talent I have. I am the talk of the town. All I need to do is write and send it to publications.

I see a boy following me wherever I go. He is my neighbour. I teach English and Kannada to his young nieces along with my siblings. I give him a glance once in a while. His niece drops a letter in my lap one day. He is begging for my love, he is ready to face the world, he is ready to convince my parents, he is ready to wait, he is ready to take on anything.. all I have to do is say YES.

Ooohoooo, this is becoming way too serious mannn!! I dont need letters, you can follow me all you want but nothing further ok? Dont you get it? I do not see you like that at all and I have no intentions of marrying till another decade and a half and that too not to you by the way!

I share all the above haughtily. Whew thats that. I have cleared the matter. No misunderstandings. Nobody knows at home. My reputation is unscathed. Hurray!

I wake up to commotion of loud weeping voices, loud abuse in the street.. what else do you expect when you are living in such uncouth surroundings?

Wait, the abuse is aimed at me and my family, the wailing is because somebody died! The people thronging in the street are to find out what I will say to this!
HOLY CRAP what did I do? I brought disgrace to myself and to my family. I pushed someone to commit suicide. I am a vamp and the world hates me. People will throw stones at me and my mother will die because of the shame!

Should I commit suicide as well? But how to die? Where to buy poison or rope? God will it hurt?

Brothers are walking around chuckling, mother is weeping and angry and sister is chuckling and angry from time to time.

Ok when to die? How to die?

Naanna asked me to go with him on a walk. I went with him. Does he want to banish me from home? Will he leave me in the street and ask me to get lost?

So far my interactions with him were about demanding money for various things, joking around and getting tutored by him to do simple & compound interest problems for SSLC exam!

We go to the nearby stadium and sit. He is looking some where and telling me, “this area is not suitable for young girls like you, I am planning to shift the house immediately to a far away area, we will do this within 15 days, till then you stay with your sister in her hostel at Hassan, we will shift and fetch you from there, this area is full of people who do not have class”.

He held my hand while coming back. Am I his little girl again? I am given another chance to life? I will be so damn good this time, he will be proud of me.

Siblings can chuckle away and mother can weep but Naanna is going to make everything al right for me.
I will never go out of the house even unless required. I am going to be the most penitent dutiful daughter. Aamir Khan can wait …....

P.s: The guy did not die, he took sleeping pills and faked his own suicide. What a classless ass! But, thank heavens I will not go to jail!

Memory remains ...

I heard his voice .......
Remembered huddling in bed
for hours talking, fighting and silent
Remembered that we used to
take walks and I shared aloud
what I thought of the young sun or green grass
his friend or something other
Joyous mornings they were

Remembered sitting on the cycle front
with him pedalling it
reaching our secret spot
known only to him and me

Remembered the spontaneous merry making
the protective hand on my shoulder while we crossed the road
the long letters during his absence
the promises we made without saying a word

Remembered him in my night gown
in my new dresses with a goofy smile

remembered them yet again!

Happy Birth day my dearest – 17/12/2009 A missus writing mush – Beware!

I was wondering about what gift I should get for a man who has been with me since I hit my twenties!!!! He has seen me through my wild days of tonsuring my head, glugging rum like water, smoking just to scare the aunties in the hotel and slapping eve teasers left right and center. He has seen me as a man who sees his woman and made me feel like THE most special person on this earth. He has seen me with compassion when I struggled with my demons choking him with my stress. He has seen me as a terrorized child when I shivered during my nightmares. He has seen me with amusement, as my bed side books grew in to mounds and never laughed when the book I was reading often fell on my face when I dozed off. Though he slept earlier than me in the night he held me tight just in case I feel lonely when he is asleep.

What gift can I give this man who is enriching my life every day?

I thought I will tell him about the things I appreciate, acknowledge and love about him as a starter. Me who demands articulation from him about all his emotions all the time, have never told many things to him myself. This is a glimpse of what I forgot to tell him,


• On the day we got married, I was going through a mixed bag of feelings, joy at one level and at the other level sort of facing the finality of the situation so a bit flabbergasted, we no longer had the control over our day, people were propelling us in the agreed scheme of events. Venky held my hand in the hotel we went along with the family for dinner and whispered “it is ok, we are same, we love each other right?” He was right of course
• I do not know about his idea about honeymoon but he came with me as soon as the wedding was over to my grandparent’s place and to all my uncles’ places, every town above 40 degrees of temperature in the peak of summer. I have never told him that I loved his gesture. I especially loved his involvement in handpicking the alcohol bottles we chose for each of our uncles. I can never forget Venky sitting in the toilet fanning himself 
• I really do not want to go chronologically month by month, year by year so heave a breath of sigh.
• I am an informally certified hypochondriac, recently after reading about mental illnesses; I asked him, ‘venky, do you think I have psychosis? What if I do?’ he says, ‘then I will ask the doctor how to maintain this Psychosis because I love it!’ He is all the medicine I need.
• We were in the courting period. I loved drama and passion. I thought he was this passive guy who would never express himself overtly. With a high dose of Jane Austen in my blood I sighed wistfully thinking real life is so boring compared with fiction. One evening, he pulls me out of the side wing, makes me stand so that the light falls on my face, and he asks me to look in to his eyes and tell him that ‘I mean what I say’. I told him that I did and he sighed a big sigh held me tightly and looked piercingly in to my eyes and left. I never told him that, that moment was breath taking. He was more intense and passionate than any of the scripted heroes.
• I was in my first job and he had taken a break from his mainstream job to figure out what he wanted to do. Though I was well paid for starters, I never managed my money properly and he gave me money to go back to Bangalore, he gave money to tide me through this or that. Amounting almost to 20 thousand rupees over a period of time. We were not married then. He never asked that money back, though I kept saying that I will return it, I never got around to doing it. He has never ever mentioned that ever.
• He laughs at all my jokes and looks at me like I am this precious box of wonders all the time. His constant encouragement ringing in my ears, I am a woman I want to be and I am a woman who loves a man and I am woman who can do anything.
HAPPY BIRTH DAY DARLING HUSBAND/PARTNER AND FRIEND 

A boy and a girl and a new dynasty …

The girl was 8 and the boy was 10 (give a year here or there). Till that night, their major preoccupation in life was skipping hours together mastering all the levels and getting educated from older brother who taught them capital cities of all nations, Latin numbers (alpha, beta, gamma, delta ending with kappa and lambda) etc. and all the ‘stuff’ one needs to know. They new names like Eurasia, Oceania, Middle East and Far East because of him.

That particular night, they were sitting on the cot and the boy was showing off his prowess in jumping tricks and the girl was in awe of the rubber limbs of the boy who was contorting his body parts like a circus monkey. Suddenly there was a great ‘THUD’ and a breathless yelp and great eerie silence.

They both knew what it was and rushed out of the house. Their guess turned out to be true. That was the cruellest thing they had witnessed in their experience of a decade.

The boy always wanted a puppy and she wanted whatever the boy wanted because she knew it must be good if he wants it. Because he was the one who protected her from ‘real’ danger. He told her when they were crossing the road to School to hold his hand, he was the one who beat up the pesky boy who taunted them, he was the one who made her believe that ‘Hanumantha’ is always with them, he was the one who held her hand in the night when she was afraid of ‘Vajramuni’ coming and piercing her stomach, he was the one with real strategies to escape if there was a cattle stampede, elephant attack or an earthquake….

Their home was a smallish building which was in the fashion of a train. 5 different sized living spaces one after the other. There were six people living altogether with lots of stuff since the father was a hoarder of old stuff.
That eventful night, the boy and girl rushed out to find the puppy which they had looked at with longing, in the drainage ditch. That puppy had wandered off from the locality of its birth and was ‘claimed’ by a pesky boy who got to keep it just because he was younger and peskier. It was rightfully the boy’s and the girl’s. Pesky boy’s grandmother knew it and she kicked the puppy forcefully and evicted it out of her premises.

The boy and the girl faced one insurmountable barrier – PARENTS. The boy showed his potential to be a great negotiator by tearfully pleading and agreeing left, right and center for whatever adverse effects parents put forward and the girl told the ultimate solution, she would go with two meals everyday and the third meal can be given to the puppy. There was agreement after lots of haggling over the price the boy and girl will pay.
• No dog poo or pee in the house
• They will be responsible for dog walks
• They will make sure it is clean and will never enter THE kitchen
• It shall not be a nuisance when it grows up and should stay out of the house

Counter considerations were put up by the boy and girl team,
• There will not be any poo or pee but just in case it happened then they will only clean it up,
• They want the puppy to be inside the house now because it is winter and it is cruel to leave it out but it will go out once it grows
The puppy which looked like a starved pirate came in to their home that night. It was the founder member of the ‘Chinnu’ dynasty. It ruled the roost from that moment on.
This dynasty was founded by the boy and girl.

Journey down the memory lane …

What is my very first memory of my big brother???

First memory:
We were in the house where I was born, this is the house where I dutifully took off all the clothes as soon as I was dressed and washed them under the tap! (not in my memory) This is where hari went to the owner’s house and demanded for coffee and this is where akka wore ‘Angora’ sweater. Annayya played a game of slow motion with me. May be I was 3. The game was, we will stand in opposite sides of our front yard, after 1,2,3 we will start saying a n n a y y a a a a a a and c h e l l e m m a a a and do the slow motion run towards each other. The game ends when I collide with him and he holds me up after hugging and kissing me. This memory glows in my mind always.

Second memory:
I think we were in this asbestos sheeted house and may be I was 3 or 4. This was the house where mom and dad made us sleep on the cot and sat with umbrellas in their hand through out the night if it rained…
This is the house where hari and me were obsessed with the song ‘Dapuliwale dapuli bajaaaa, mere gungharoo bulaaathe he aa, some thing something ….
This is the house where akka wrote the story of a grandmother on a slate. This granny traveled encountering what not before she reached the other side of the slate. Her long journey was measured in the chalk dots and a background sound effect by akka tuku, tuku, tuku tuku….

This is the house where annayya decided to teach me to write a,aa,e,ee – (Kannada alphabets), years before I joined School! He was ready and I was ready. I remember him writing 2 letters first, holding my hand and tracing it once or twice and then telling me to go on tracing till the letter became as thick as a Jilebi (I was not supposed to cheat by holding the chalk horizontally). After that he will teach 2 more letters. I remember tracing like mad and going to him every twenty minutes and he started giving 4 letters and then also I went back for more and lo I learnt the alphabets in 1 day!! I am sure this happened because he made me enjoy the learning process. May be the rewards were higher and may be I loved his attention. May be he demystified the ‘learning part’..

Third memory:
We are in this house which had five corners in one hall. My mother thought it was not a good thing (Ai moola kompa!). This is the house where hari and me were given a joint bath with instructions from Naana. He will be sitting on the chair opposite us and told, hari soap your legs properly, aparna face means entire face put more soap etc.
This is where akka had truckloads of friends who streamed in and out of our home in all the waking moments.

Hari and me had range of emotions towards annayya. We were in awe of his physical strength and his brilliance. He was our shining star.
- I waited in the same room when he exercised with pots full of water as weights and his exercise ended with my favourite ritual, he would say that I am his dumb bell and he would lift me up and roll me over his back and pull me up from under his legs. I remember shrieking with joy always.
- Hari and me would beg him to watch while he had his bath. We loved his performance (now I realize how much he tolerated us, always wanting to see him do stuff as if he is a Television set with various channels!!). He would soap his hair (yes, he had lush strait hair then) and tell us stories of monsters with two horns (he would shape 2 horns with his hair), Chinese traveler (with his hair slicked back), angry ram (with spring horns) and what not. After that the bath ended with him lifting a huge green plastic pot full of water and pouring it on his head!! We could not wait for tomorrow
- Hari and me used to sleep in the same bed with our own mosquito curtain. Hari the sweet and gentle soul warmed my bedsheet before I came to sleep by huddling in it (after me snatching his bedsheet saying mine is cold several times). We would sleep and wait for annayya to come to ‘our tent’. After annayya was ready for bed, he would come to our mosquito tent and start the signature music tana tana tan then announce ‘Now friends, you are listening to Navala shravanthi, today you will hear the story of Ivan’ tana tana tan. Then he would start telling us Tolstoy’s stories with great animation and we would be rapt and hang on every word he spoke. After the story ended, amidst our protest the programme ended and we were told to sleep and the door was closed. We would bask in the story and go to blissful sleep.

I think I can write a book about my brother if I have to say everything he has shaped in me. What seeds of thoughts he sowed, what types of imagination he nourished, what in the world he is to me.
Word is not the thing.

Gender sensitivity and Bhuvi

Bhuvi is my 6 year old niece. She introduced a new game of 'make believe grinding'. We were sitting on the bed and we dutifully did the motion of grinding for a while (traditional Indian way where the right hand makes a big circle on the ground and with left hand grains are put into the small slot). I tried to talk to her and this conversation followed.

Me: Bhuviamma what are you grinding?
(I was playing my childhood game of 'acting like adults')

Bhuvi: What are YOU grinding?

(obviously she had not played this game before)

Me: I am grinding for Idli
(After I said this, I became aware of the gendered conversation I was building where women were sitting and doing all the work etc. etc. and I asked her kicking myself inwardly)

Me: What are you grinding?

Bhuvi: She took a pause and I thought 'oh no she is going to say Dosa now'.
After the pause, she said ....

'I am grinding WORMS'

Whew the damage was not done :-)

Unsung Heroines

Parvathi:

I always felt proud that Thikkavva (Mad granny) was there during my birth. I have heard so many disjointed stories about her, regaling in how mad she was, she was this and that... What I came to know over the years make me feel like I am digging into the past of a radical feminist. She was far ahead of her times ..

She was my grandfather's sister (mother's father). Her story as I know through my mother ...
She was born at seven months after 3 still births,…She was rolled in cotton, placed amidst Castor leaves and was fed through cotton swabs soaked in her mother's milk. This went on till she gained weight and seemed like a human baby. She was 14 when she was married off to Grama Purohit of Alampur Taluk. He was a rich man with 250 acres of land. In her days of glory, it is said that she had different jewelery for different days of the week (Yedu vaaraala sommu) and her hair was adorned with golden leaves that could be fastened to the length of the plait. When she gave birth to her first child, her husband ordered lorry loads of flowers for decoration of the house. Sadly none of her two off springs survived.

She became a widow when she was 20. Husband succumbed to 'medicine less illness'. By the time her parents got the news of the tragedy and went there, her head was already sheared, she was wearing red Saree covering her bald head. Her mother in law who was the picture of greed took hold of all the jewelery and showed some relative as the adopted son and tried to get all the property.

My grandfather entered the scene, had a fair idea of the law and registered a case on behalf of her. Warangal court gave decision in her favour and she got all her property over the years.

My grandfather suggested that she adopt a boy and he will be her support in her old age as well as he can take care of the property as he grows up. He volunteered to take care of the land till then.
She was a well read woman for her times and was not a believer of traditions. She was against adoption for the sake of security and asked my grandfather to maintain the property for her. As this thought clashed with his value system, he was adamant that she adopt and convinced her some how for that.

She would have been any other forgotten woman if she had followed what was expected out of her, content while rearing her boy, being of assistance in all the ceremonies in the near and far relative circles, blending in the background, being the last to eat in auspicious occasions...

Instead.....
She decided to venture out of the safe heaven of her Street (Which is till today called 'The -------caste Street) and into the Pataan geri full of muslims, into SC colony, wherever she went people were stunned and welcomed her with awe. She started going there and started talking to the men,women and children. She spoke to them about sending their children to school, counselled pregnant women to go to hospitals, scolded drunk men. They revered her presence.
She woke up at the wee hours of the morning to make a huge flask full of coffee, carried it to the Govt. hospital general ward, where the poor relatives of patients from far off places used to be. She was the friendly localite with a smile on her face, lending friendly ear to their woes and serving them hot coffee. Her presence was a balm for many souls.

Everybody thought if she is doing these outrageous things, then surely she is mad! She got the prefix to her name 'Mad' at this period and she knew it. There was a huge dam construction project taken up by the Govt. which would have submerged the town. Govt. offered resettlement lands and monetary benefits. My grandfather decided to fight against Govt. as the town is a historically important place with ancient temples and Scriptures. He was doing signature campaigns, strikes and applying for stay order in court etc.

She started making up catchy songs about the horrors of losing the town and how the lives are going to be affected. She walked through out the town and nearby villages singing. If people showed interest, then spoke about what is going to happen, generated lot of interest and support for the anti project efforts.
She never minced her words and was periodically angry at my grandfather for making her adopt. Some say instead she wished to be remarried.

When I was born, she came to be with my mother and help. Once my father remarked how come this dish tastes like this? And she told him, this is the only way I know to cook, if you want it better, you can cook yourself. My mom says only for my birth, my father took a long leave of absence from his work. I wonder why :-)

I remember her smell of Vibuthi and Camphor. Though she is not supposed to touch anybody till her bed time, she never hesitated to touch and kiss us.

She died when she was 75…..


Kamala:

She was the daughter of RajaVaidya of Gadwal province. She was born during the British Raj. She was an exceptional beauty with a hint of a blue in her eyes. People always turned their heads to look at her. She was married off when she was 8 years old. She had not attained menarchy so was still at her parents house and in a year she was told that her husband died and she is a widow now. She was 9.

Relatives started asking her parents to send her for ceremonies and functions. She came to Alampur on a visit to her uncle's house. She stayed on helping them. The sight of a waifish beauty in her teens carrying huge pots of water from the river became familiar in the street.

Ramakrishna was one of the idealistic freedom fighter who was stationed at Alampur to help settle his sister's property dispute. He used to wake up at 4 in the morning and used to do Yoga in the Thungabadra river bed. He always wondered about this girl who fetched water endlessly in such huge pots.

She always observed this man who did strange Aasanas so early in the morning.

One day, she was walking home with a pot of water, a horse driven carriage comes and stands next to her, a stranger climbs out and asks her “Do you know Ramakrishna?” She says yes I have seen him and I know about him. The stranger tells her, “Ramakrishna sent us to tell you that he wishes to marry you”, Kamala is all flustered and does not know what to say, and the stranger continues “he wishes to marry you TODAY, so if you are in agreement then you come with us in the carriage, if not he completely understands and will never trouble you again”.
She stood there for how long and thought about what all I don't know......
She went in the carriage and married the intriguing man on that very day!

Oh by the way she is my grandmother... I wouldn't be here writing this if she did not go in that carriage that day :-)