A Malloo movie

Went for superstar Mammooty's Onam release "Bhargava charitam, moonam khandam (the history of Bhargava, part III) yesterday evening. The script is written by comedian Srinivasan, who is in the lead along with Mammooty. It is a satire on the underworld - Mammooty plays the role of an underworld don, "Current Bhargavan", who is losing his touch. He comes to psychiatrist Santaram (Srinivasan) to regain his courage.
Thankfully, the aging actors are not paired with any of the two young female faces, though Srinivasan does make a comic attempt to woo one of them. Srinivasan's facial expressions are hilarious. Mammooty looks remarkably young for someone who is now a granpa. His attempt at comedy is passable. Former malayalam heart-throb Rehman makes a comeback, while Saikumar excells as the villain of the piece. Salimkumar is back to comedy after his powerful role in "Achen urangatha veedu" (a film made on the Suryanelli case in Kerala).
Padmam theater seems to have undergone a renovation, so we watched the movie from the plush 2-seater sofa in teh executive class. Ticket rates cost a fortune as a result.

Child rights?

Yesterday I was sitting at the bus stop lost in my thoughts when a young girl in school uniform came and said something to me.
'Yes?' I asked politely.
'Move and sit,' she said.
The seat next to me was vacant, so I said: " You may sit here."
"No, I want to sit where you are sitting, so move!"
"Then keep standing."
"Move!" she said in Tamil.
"Is this the way they teach you in school to talk to elders?" I asked, losing my temper.
She glared and came and sat between me and an old gentleman on the stone bench. She reeked of sweat. From her uniform, I assumed she was probably a Corporation (govt.) school student.
"Nobody has spoken to me so sternly. Not even my daddy."
"That's the problem." I said.
"You talk like my chithi."
"Which class are you in?" I asked.
"6th standard. And I am the first rank holder in my class."
"Oh! but dont they teach you good manners? You should take lessons in humility first," I remarked. The old man was quiet, he didnt want to get into the debate.
"But I only asked you to move and sit. Why do u make such a fuss?"
"You cant go around ordering others like this. Especially when there was a vacant seat," I told her.
She did not get my point. However, she said: "Ok, then I am sorry."
"That's better, " I said, not feeling any better. My mercury levels would take some time to come down.
She got into the next bus that came.
Her arrogance made me wonder what got into kids these days. Is it because they are too pampered that they want things their way even if it inconveniences others? Will my kids grow up like this too? Bringing up kids these days is more difficult, they know how to blackmail and get things their way. Parents who dont have the time for them are more vulnerable to bullying.
I had grown up not daring to ask for anything. My parents got me only what they thought I would need and not what I thought I'd need. I still remember my dad gifting me a 5-star chocolate when I stood first in First standard. The gifts were so few and far between that I valued them.
But we are smothering Ash with things he asks - no wonder the house has umpteen balls (he has a weakness for balls and balloons).

Bangalore

We had gone to Bangalore this weekend. Took the night train, so we were able to sleep. V woke me up at 4.45 am as the train was supposed to reach Bangalore by 5.30 am. Soon everybody was up and shivering. V asked a few fellow passengers, who looked like Kannadigas, which station was coming up next but nobody seemed to know. It was as if everyone was travelling to B'lore for the first time in their lives.

The train soon came to a halt, we got out but there was no board announcing which station it was. So we got in again. A Tamilian passenger told us that it was Krishnarajapuram, an unscheduled stop. We alighted again as Vimal had told us that it was the nearest to his place. We waited at the station entrance, it looked like a station from the middle ages. There was no a tea shop in sight. The ticket counter was unmanned. A few men were dozing on the limited benches available. Three girls went out jabbering in Tamil and spreading a faint odour from their unwashed bodies. Apparently, 50% of Bangalore's population is Tamil. Inspite of the Cauvery issue, Kannadigas and Tamilians co-exist in this budding metropolis.
The road to Vimal's house was a mud road with potholes. As per govt records the roas has been tarred thrice. Corruption rules the roost in the city.

After a cup of tea and a short nap, we got ready for the day's function. The new flat was some 200 feet away. It is a good well-(sun) lit place and they have tastefully chosen the upholstery, electrical fittings and modular kitchen. They even have a tiny arakallu (stone for grinding that we use back home) in the balcony cum work-area. The woodwork is half done, so they wont be shifting until end of next month, I think.
The buffet lunch was passably good but the servings were too small and soon f-i-l, started serving us much to the waiters' irritation. Mil and her nephew Sal (who works in B'lore) kept us in splits. Sal lent us his car to go shopping in 'Commercial' - in the end we merely windowshopped. Fil has no patience for women shoppers, so V told me we will come later. Shopping in Madras works out cheaper. With the cosmopolitan IT crowd and money flow, Bangalore can afford to sell things at higher prices.
The roads were enough to put me off, so I resisted another shopping attempt the next day. Went out for lunch at Kerala's own Kalpaka as fil doesnt like Chinese and other foreign cuisine. By the time we finished lunch it was time to pack and head for the station. Vimal and Renee dropped us at the main station, which they call Majestic.
The Shatabdi coming from Mysore was late by half an hr. People vied with one another to get in first - like the crowd at our own KSRTC bus stands. There was no music or newspaper to greet us. But a bottle of mineral water and fruit juice came soon. This was followed by tea - cake, samosa, sandwich and coffee. Both of us dozed off and were woken up by the bearer serving bun and tomato soup. The scenery outside was fantastic - green fields against the background of rocky mountains - not a single piece of rock but boulders and boulders perched precariously until the next landslide.
Dinner came soon after - romali rotis, channa, pulav, chicken curry, curd and icecream. The bearers all spoke Hindi. A newly married N. Indian couple sat in the row opposite ours - the guy seemed to be regaling his bride with his exploits before marriage. Whereas we, facing the seven-year itch with stoicism, had little to talk. V vetoed the egg donation.
The train reached Chennai at 9.30 pm, right on dot. From the cool climes of Bangalore we were back to Chennai's sweltering heat. But otherwise the climate was all that I found good about B'lore- u dont even have to switch on the fan there.
Mil and co. drove back to Kerala yesterday evening.
Vimal's daughter Meghana, who is 3 months younger to Ash, is remarkably organised. She eats on her own, is toilet-trained and can talk to some extent.
Ash is way behind in all this. I wonder when he will behave sanely - or are most boys like this? Dad tells me he dumps his breakfast on his head or flings it across the room, refuses to sit on his potty and harms Mira at the slightest opportunity. The only food he takes willingly is milk in his feeding bottle.

Donor dilemma

I am in a dilemma. A colleague who is looking for a donor egg has asked me if I would mind donating. I had spoken to V earlier about it but he was against it. So I have told her I will consult him before giving an answer.
Since she is no great pal of mine, I dont feel morally obliged to donate - it is not the feeling that I am giving away my 'child' that is bothering me, the hassle and pain of the treatment that a donor will have to undergo puts me off. Hormonal injections, anaesthesia, visits to clinic, time away from work and my kids etc. But her helplessness makes me feel sympathetic.
p.s. It is my brother's bday today.

Happy birthday, V

Met Murali, my MA classmate, in the corridor today. He is an Assistant Editor and now acts as assistant to the Reader's Editor. Said we will apply for our MPhil convocation - it is over 10 years since we cleared Mphil but we are still walking around with the provisional certificate; need to get the real certificate from Madras uni. He has put on a lil weight. But otherwise he still looks like R.K. Laxman's Common Man. http://members.rediff.com/anoop_pant/commonman.html
It was V's b'day yesterday. Ate out at a Chettinadu restaurant called Anjappar. Had mutton biriyani and nettili fry.
Mom said that maid has been awed by Ash's mischief - said she will reconsider coming to Madras if he is coming too. She can look after Mira alone, she says. Must find a way out.

Random reading

A busy day at work. Had to edit a lousy piece by a freelancer on AP floods. Head reeling still.
I am not reading anything these days - the last major piece I read was "According to Mary" by Marianne Fredrikson (about Mary Magdalene's role in Christ's life).
http://www.orionbooks.co.uk/MP-24533/According-to-Mary.htm
After Da Vinci Code, I have gotten interested in alternative theories about Christ's spirituality.
Trying to read the newspapers at least. Even with kids away not finding time for reading - cooking itself takes most of my free time at home. Feel like a novice in the kitchen.

A trip and back

Got back today morning 9.45 am from Kerala. Took the Tvm-Chennai Express which has very few stops. Since it had no halt at Changanasseri,we had to take it from Kottayam station at 8.15 pm yesterday.
My maid adventures are getting queerer by the day. Didn't bring back the new maid; want to monitor her for a while. She is right now at Chandanapally, with Ash and Mira and my parents. Me and V didnt like her much though my inlaws had tried to convince us. On the plus side, she is a good cook and is willing to learn. But otherwise, she is a bit too fashionable and loud. Looks like one of those of those "extras" (starlets) from tinsel world. Also says she was quite well off; in fact that she married her daughters off paying 10 lakhs each as dowry, that her husband had a saw-mill which he had to sell off owing to a financial crisis.
Says she was forced to come to work as she has to pay off the loans towards her property and the a/c car she keeps!
I have never seen a maid who is/was so well-off, so this has made us suspicious. What if she is a fraud, upto something. Of late we hear so many stories of housemaids aiding burglaries. To top it she keeps a mobile phone. OF the contact numbers she has given, that of her hubby doesnt work while that of her cousin brother works. Altogether it looks a bit suspicious but since we have paid a commission to the agency we have to try her out before firing.
She is also taking medicines for a liver inflammation the past 3 years, so we need to check out the medicines she is taking too.

Ash and Mira are looking good, both have put on some flesh. Touchwood! Both caught fever after we came; Ash had opened a dusty drawer of cassettes and Mira joined him in the exploration, and both started sneezing. By the next day, both were down with cold.
My parents brought Ash to Chry the day I landed. He looked at me as if I was there all along and immediately started his exploration of the house. Mira took time to recognize me; it was as if she was trying to recollect my face. She wouldnt leave mil's side and had found some friends in the tenant's children.
V came on Saturday and Ash followed him like a shadow everywhere. He would wake up at night calling out Appa Appa. Mira also did not sleep well as she was missing mil. We left Chply on Sunday afternoon after Ash went to sleep. Mira watched us go.

A danseuse remembers

Almost finished packing. Haven’t planned the tour itinerary – I might go to Chandanapally only after V comes on Saturday to sign the servant's contract. Dunno when I can see Ash... Planning to take Mira and maid to my place and leave them there with Ash and my parents as inlaws are leaving for B'lore on 23rd. They are going by car along with Renee’s parents.
Mil however suggested that I should think of taking Mira and maid to Madras this time itself. That means I have to book ticket for her also to go to B'lore with us. Let me see.
It is raining cats and dogs in Kerala thanks to a depression in the Bay of Bengal. Madras is also getting rains every evening.
Attended a rain-soaked dinner party for benefactors of our church's orphanage yesterday night. The food was so-so but the kids' cultural programme was interesting. It was good to see bharatnatyam and other dance forms on stage after so many years. So used to viewing them on TV. I even got to see Margam kali, the Syrian Christian dance form of Kerala, for the first time in life. The wail of a song which accompanies the dance is one of its kind.
My dance master
Reminded me of my schooldays when I had performed on stage. Mom had sent me to a dance school against grandma's wishes (who thought it was not the proper thing to learn for Christian girls from good families! She thought I should join the Sunday School instead, which I never did). My dance master was one Konniyoor Radhakrishnan, a bespectled man with curly hair who carried a black bag under his arm. There was something very feminine about him including his gestures - that is usual for male classical dancers. His lips were always red as he chewed betel leaf and arecanut.
I had no natural flair for dancing and hence he whacked my toes often with a short thick stick whenever I got the steps wrong. My friend and junior in school Reshmi was a good dancer and she learnt bharatnatyam and other classical dance at home too under his tutelage. I learnt only folk and other group dances. My first public performance was on the local Catholic church's anniversary day (the dance school was run by the nuns of the Catholic church, beleive it or not!). I performed in a few group dances and was the lead dancer for one called "Kandal karupulla karivande, kanninte niramulla karivante..." (Oh beautiful black beetle with the colour of the eye). I remember only those 2 lines of it.
I also performed in an Oppana (the Muslim marriage dance)as one of the bride's friends and as an angel in a ballet on Maria Goreti, a French Catholic saint. I must have been in Class III or IV at that time.
Radhakrishnan master often dropped me and Reshmi home on his way back and we had fun trying to match his long strides. He later became the dance master at the Anglo-Indian school in Mallassery where I studied till Class V.
Two years later, I left for Tanzania. Master kept in touch and in one of the last letters he sent me, requested me to get him a bottle of perfume when I got back to India. I couldnt personally give it to him as I joined a residential school in Tiruvalla when I got back from Dar-es-salaam. But my mom said master was very happy with the gifts I got him.
A year later, my friend Reshmi told me that master committed suicide, unable to pay off debts. I wonder what happened to his family.

Independence day!

The country celebrates another Independence day and I am here at work, mainly because we get overtime wages today! V has the day off. He has got an iPod shuffle from his company as a gift - a goodwill gesture to all employees there. Technology is amazing - we have gone a long way from the time of stereo players and walkmans.

I am off to Kerala tomorrow to see my kids. V will land there on Saturday. WE have recruited a maid from an agency in Kottayam on a 6-month contract. She is now at my inlaws' place taking care of Mira. The agency charges 1-month of their salary as commission from us. She says she is a first-timer, driven to this job owing to financial liabilities. That is why most maids come - debts and a drunkard husband. Let me see how this one goes. We might bring back Mira first, not now, but after our Bangalore trip.
Ash cried yesterday after we spoke to him, mom said. Dad was a bit angry with us for not having toilet-trained him. Thinks if he doesn’t learn now it will take up a long time to come round to it. But all Western baby websites tell me that toilet training can start when the kid turns 2 or 2 ½.
Dad is trying to discipline him! For someone who instilled so much awe in us, he seems to have softened quite a bit.

Across the miles...

Life is so boringly quiet and orderly at home now! We speak to the kids everyday. One thing I am glad is that they are both eating well and their lives have a proper routine now. With our irregular hours it had been disorganized for them too. Both places said the kids have put on some weight.
V called former maid’s d-i-l yesterday to ask about the money she owes us. The dil said the woman has a habit of doing this at every place she works. There was no wedding to attend, that was just a ruse for leaving. She was not happy with the freebies we gave, instead she has complained that she had to buy on her own some gifts for her grandkids! some cheek she has!
I am glad she has left. Have a feeling she was ill-treating the kids. It kept me awake at night. I am afraid to hire another maid. V is now checking with agencies that send maids for household work/patient care/babysitting.
Our last day of work on the next issue of the magazine. Would have liked to go home this week but the trains are full. There is a holiday on Tuesday, being Independence day. It is a paid holiday for us, so we are all looking forward to come to work and claim double wages.

Another rainy day

A relatively tension-free day. Just had a piece on the PMO mole to edit. Yesterday had been a bit hectic with copies on Bangalore's shaky infrastructure and an ad-driven feature on the French institute of Pondicherry. It cured my fascination for Bangalore. I am told that apart from its cool climate, Bangalore is way behind dear old Chennai - poor roads, corrupt officialdom, parochial people ... Life in Madras is so much better, save in April-May when the temperature crosses 41 degree celsius.
The office is getting leaner - people keep leaving but no new recruitments to fill the void. As a result the few remaining souls have to work doubly harder.
Spoke to Ash today morning - he is jabbering more. The other day both kids had pushed the phone away, our parents said,when we called. I think they are showing their anger for leaving them. Ash seems to be missing us at night too. Feeling very helpless - there is no way we can bring them back unless we find someone. Two options we had of late seem to have fizzled out.
Got caught in a sudden heavy spell of rain yesterday night on my way back home, so found refuge in a small eatery called Eatalica. V had a tuna salad and I had a chicken steak burger. The menu had fancy names for the dishes ranging from Marilyn Monroe to Monica Lewinsky to Droolia Roberts! Topped it with Lime mint drink and later coffee at home. Have to be prepared for light showers every evening now, I think.

The emerging cook

Back to my cooking days – made a breakfast of Puttu & Kadala curry (not as tasty as the maid’s, I wish I had watched her do it), and rice and assorted dishes for lunch. Malloo meal menus are a bit elaborate for my liking but I have to trudge the line, since V likes things the traditional way.

Kids are doing ok, been making frequent calls home to enquire about them and hear their voice. Ash sang a line of Kaake Kaake Kudevide for us (Crow, crow where is your nest - one of the first malloo rhymes that our kids learn). He is more a humming bird. He is forever humming the Abcd rhyme he learnt from school - but only lmnopq and rst are coherent, so V calls him our RSP (Revolutionary Socialist Party) man. Ash sang me to sleep on our onward journey to Kerala last week. His concert luckily couldnt be heard over the train's chugging, so it did not disturb co-passengers.

Mil said Mira is adjusting though she is still gloomy. She is eating well and is getting toilet-trained - mil is an expert in babycare. We had no time and maids were the least bothered.
If i can find a reliable local person, I will bring Mira alone first. Might even bring her next week if possible, as Mil has to go to Bangalore for Vimal's housewarming on Aug 26. Might let Ash stay 3-4 months in my village till he gets a bit healthy. At Chandanapally, he has plenty of space to run around there and my parents and granny and co. are all enjoying his company. But V is missing him badly. I am missing Mira more.

I'm back!

After a 4-day sojourn in Kerala I got back to Chennai today morning. The kids have been left with our parents - Ash with mine and Mira with V's. Ash doesnt seem to be missing us much but Mira has been crying especially at night. It had been a bit difficult to leave her behind, though I did not feel as dejected as I had after I left Ash in my m-i-l's care in October 2004, when he was 8 months. That is because I wasn't travelling alone this time, we had each other to talk to.
The latest recruit turned out to be a one-day wonder (or misery). I guess she found the job too tough for her liking and didnt turn up the 2nd day! She gave no hint that she wont come. We didnt pursue, so I ended up taking leave from Aug 1.

Since mom had booked her ticket for 2nd, I decided to take a break and go with her. Mom and V didnt think it was a great idea travelling with the kids but I was half hoping V would let me leave the kids in Kerala. He came round to the idea a day or two later, and brought a few more of their things when he landed home on Saturday.
We were still hoping to find a maid and in that case we could have brought Mira with us. But the candidate acted a bit pricey and we dropped the idea.
We might go again this weekend, and try to bring back Mira if we can find a good local help. It feels a bit strange to come to an eerily quiet house after the din and disorder that had characterised our flat this past one year.