A weekend adventure

It was Mira's turn to get sick this weekend. On Friday night, she started throwing up and had to be rushed to the Emergency of SMF's children's hospital, which has been relocated to New Avadi Road - less depressing interiors than the old one but a lil noisy since it is bang on a very busy road. It former occupant, the RIGID hospitals (a very eerie name for a hospital), seems to have turned rigid or departed elsewhere.
We groaned as we sighted the duty doctor, whose diagnosis as far as some of Ash's ailments have been off the mark. We had to wait while the dr did the rounds - most probably catching a cat nap, since there cant be any rounds at 11 pm. Sometimes we are told the dr is in the ICU, when in actuality they are napping. She advised admitting Mira in the hospital if she continued to vomit after the intravenal injection. Throw up she did upon greedily taking a glass of tender coconut water half an hour after the injection, but we were spared an admission.
She began to improve the next day, but began throwing up in the evening when an ambitious and doting L fed her more than she could take. We rushed her to our regular paed. and just about managed to see him thanks to his friendly attendant. The dr requested a lift home, so we had to wait a while till the last of his patients went away.
Since the dr had been egging V to attend his church harvest festival on Sunday morning, the two of us decided to attend the mass at the CSI Holy Trinity church on Ritherdon Road. To my surprise I met Ash's teacher, who is a member of the parish, there. Burgers and fruit salads later, we realised that we had not bought in time the coupons for the kappa-fish curry delicacy. Disappointed, we decided to have a lunch of the same at some Kerala hotel in the neighbourhood.

And V suggested that we try the new Kokum restaurant in Anna Nagar, which is supposed to serve dishes from the four South Indian states. We were greeted with a 'Closed' signboard but were soon welcomed in by a waiter who changed the board to 'Open', since they open for lunch at 12 noon and it was already 20 minutes past 12. We dug out the kappa-meen curry combo from the stylish menucard. The prices seemed exorbitant, so we hoped the quantity would be good.
The interiors were well done, and we sat talking idly to the sound of waterfall from the hidden fountains. A welcome drink of lime juice in a glass that was a wee bit bigger than a test tube and two miniature dosas made of wheat and maida followed with 6 exotic looking chutneys of different flavours and colour.
By 1 pm, the elderly hotel manager told us apologetically that he was sorry to keep us waiting and his chef would serve us a carnival of something - which turned out to be 3 fried red fish (that we call Unni Mary back home, after an actress!) and a spoonful of banana chips and sarkaravaratti.
Twenty minutes later, as we kept examining the fossils of the fish restlessly, the waiter announced to us that the kappa was just not turning out right (some dont cook well) and would we mind ordering something else. Tired and at our wit's end, we decided to settle for the Dindigul mutton biriyani (since the Hyderabadi version was unavailable) and mutton sukka (fry). The order was honoured this time but the quantity was alarmingly small for the price they carried - say, 2-3 tablesoonful of mutton fry for Rs. 285 and a small bowl (the amount a diabetic is advised to eat by the dietitian) of small-grain biriyani that tasted like something else.
An altogether unsavoury experience, and I had to beseech a seething V not to lose his cool and pay the bill without any negative remarks (instead, I had already planned to make a disparaging post about the experience). It was to be one of those restaurants we wouldnt step in more than once (like the so-called Thai restuarant Benjarong, though some swear by it).
We reached home to find the maid had cooked a more delectable fare, and which we decided to have for dinner.

Romancing the rains

Yesterday began sunny and warm after three days of incessant rain. However, I did not send the kids to school. Instead, I sent the dripping as well as the damp clothes out into the sun. But by afternoon the sun called it a day and let the raingods take charge.
What followed was one of the heaviest downpours I have seen in the city in recent times. It didnt matter as long as I was safe and dry in the chilling comfort of the office. Save for the two brief sprints to the canteen in the rain. There's nothing more fulfilling and romantic as watching the pitter patter of raindrops as you sip hot, steaming tea.
But not so when you venture out into the mad, bad world of slushy roads, infrequent and overflowing (with commuters) buses and cut-throat autorickshaw drivers, who make big bucks while the rains rage. I joined the sea of people at the bus stop, braving many a mosquito bite for half an hour. Hordes of people walked to their destinations or half-way to their destinations while traffice moved at a snail's pace. Many carried bags and suitcases and had to reach the train station or the inter-state bus terminus - probably they were going home for Diwali, which conveniently fell on a Monday this year.
I hopped two buses and reached home in 2 hours, as opposed to 20-30 minutes on a normal day. As I alighted at my place and smiled in satisfaction at my ingenuity, I saw two practically empty straight buses to my destination.
Today has dawned sunny again, but the weather forecast says "cloudy". If dark clouds come, can rain be far behind?

A morning in pictures

Yesterday, Ash did not go to school since he was itching real bad and his dad thought it would be a disaster sending him even though we had got him ready for school and though Ash confided to us that his teacher scratched for him when his skin got too itchy in school (I hear that the sweet lady carries him on her arms often). And V blamed a tin of Lays that I had brought home and which Ash had discovered, though we try to hide many undesirable stuff from him.

So instead we took him along when we went to drop Mira at school. We then proceeded to the park. While we walked, Ash took over the play area. There weren't any other kids at that point of time, so he had the swing, the slide and the see-saw to himself. He ran from one to the next, as he always does.

There he comes sliding down, and prepares for the next.

There he is, sitting alone on the see-saw. He would call out loudly to me, and then join me for a jog. I mean, he jogs and I walk.

There are two gardener families using the pump rooms (that red brick building) as their dwellings. But the park is not spruced up the way one would expect in such circumstances. The older gardener lives with his wife and daughter to the left. The younger one seems to have got a new wife - or maybe she is back from a holiday from her village. There she is washing clothes, and draining the soapy water into the lawn.

And then she comes to the other side to check on whatever she is cooking. Some of these lights in the foreground have their shades broken. The Corporation of Chennai should have fixed them higher off the ground as the one on the other side of the road is. I wonder when our people will stop damaging/defacing public property. Brand new MTC buses have their seats torn, people happily spit on the roads.... the list is endless.

I come home, open my bedroom window and look out to this view. A new bungalow that has come up next door. Their garden is as good as mine. It is so close. They have been taking their own sweet time to get the house and the premises ready, but very soon I will have a beautiful garden to look at first in the morning, when I open my window. Thank you dear neighbours.

Sunday trip

At Basera, a barbeque restaurant on ECR. This was our second trip there. V wanted the kids to have fun since the place has a good play area. The grandparents and the maid enjoyed too.

We had dinner in a hut propped up on stilts. Food is pretty good there. The place has tree-top tables too.

Fishy trip

Yesterday, on our way back from the Siddha doctor's place in Tiruvallur we stopped at the wholesale fishmarket in Vaanagaram near Maduravoyal.
There's V and his cousin getting sardines cleaned and cut (for Rs.30 for 3 kg of sardines bought at Rs.50). Ash was hooked to the African freshwater fish we call mushi back in Kerala and watched them jumping up and down gasping for breath as they were transferred from their watery haven to the yellow crate for the inspection of customers.

I couldnt watch their life and death struggle and kept my eyes away. So far I have seen and bought only dead fish, not ones that are fresh out of water. Some were lucky when the men-in-charge decided to put them back into the water drums.

Elliot's beach in midsummer

The moonlight making a pathway in the sea.... Ash and me walked up to the waters to let the waves wash our feet. Ash couldnt have enough of it and was loath to come away.

The mulagai bajji stall, with the chillies strung to form a garland. (The big chillies are slit lengthwise and dipped in a not-too-watery batter of bengal gram powder and a dash of chilli powder and salt. Nowadays you get even readymade bajji-bonda powder.) The chilli bajji is one of my favorites. They sell 5 for Rs. 10 in a leaf plate.

The beach was too full of stall keepers and other amusement providers that there was not much breathing space. In fact Besant Nagar beach is getting more crowded than the Marina in recent years.

Ash trying to making a house/castle in the sand. He couldnt have enough of that either.

New year sightings

Today is Vishu, the Malayalam new year and the first thing I got to see in the morning as vishukkani (auspicious sighting) was the maid's behind! I also forgot to tell the maid to cook something nice and special.

Today is also the birth anniversary of Ambedkar, the Dalit architect of our Constitution. The Ambedkar statue near my colony seems to have got a fresh blue coat of paint and a floral garland. Ash knows the names of the two statues - of Ambedkar and Gandhiji - close to our house and names them each time he passes that way.

The best part of yesterday was spent in the church - first the Mass and then a wedding service, which we were invited to. Met a few old faces at the reception including the tall and handsome octagenarian Mr. Eapen, who ran the church hostel I stayed in before marriage. He still runs it though he looks frail now. The hostel run in his house, with girls packed like fish in each room, had mostly students of Stella and CA aspirants who came for short-term tutions. Having them was profitable for him since they paid the mandatory non-refundable admission fees apart from mess fee. The food was pretty decent especially in the initial days I was there.

No reason to Smile

Every time I passed Shanti Colony in Anna Nagar, I was intrigued by the name of a montessori school run in a house - S.M.I.L.E. The full stops amused-intrigued me. The seemingly modest building made me feel that it was probably less expensive than 'patasala', so I decided to check it out day before yesterday.
The lady, who attended on my queries, was courteous and was probably the principal Mrs. Suganti Raja (I found the name on the visiting card she gave me as I was leaving). But the fee structure was no consolation.
Admission fee - 4000
Monthly fees - 1200 (or 14400 in 3 terms to be paid in June, Sept., and Dec.)
Additional fee - 2000
Uniform - 250 (boys)/ 300 (girls)
The school timings are 9-12 a.m. and snacks and a water bottle (also a labelled set of spare clothes) can be sent with the kid. There is no van facility.
And just as she was trying to dig information about me the parent and how much we were worth, I got an urgent call from V to make haste and leave for our next destination. She kindly gave me a glass of water seeing me coughing.
Vijaya tells me there are some kids attending her therapy who go to the school. She doesnt know if it is good.
Considering that the fee is not v. different from patasala's, I think I will send Mira to the latter if at all I send her to a montessori.

The montessori attraction

When I met a junior of mine from college on New Year's Day, he told me his son and daughter were studying in Lady Andal and Patasala respectively. Which was a surprise for me, since Lady Andal on Harrington Road was quite far from his residence and secondly, he didnt belong to the "rich, snob" crowd who could afford to send their kids to LA. And here I had decided not to try for admission for my kids at the said school for the same reason, though a couple of opinions I got from colleagues was well in favour of the school. I didnt want my kids asking me to take them to Switzerland on vacation or asking us to change our car for a high-end model! But Vinu my junior told me that the snob kids formed their own groups and our kids knew better than to mingle with them or know their limits. He also told me that the 'patasala montessori' I had once gone to for Ash's sake was a v. good school. Which made me decide then that I will try to get Mira admitted there for a year at least, before she joins a mainstream school.

So today afternoon we went with Mira to the school near the Mahalingapuram Ayyappa temple. We had to wait quite long as the couple who went in before us took a long time talking to the lady-in-charge, Shobana. We had been trying to drill into Mira's head that her name was Miriam, not Vaava or Kripa. But she kept mum when the lady asked her her name. The first thing she wanted to know was whether Mira was fully toilet-trained as they didnt want kids who soiled the bamboo mats they sat on. We said yes.

She also told us that they take in only 70 students a year in the 2.5 to the 6 year age group, while they had another school for kids upto age 11 near the GG hospital in Nungambakkam. That if students didnt turn up before 9 am, they would have to go back home! Classes are from 9-12 for the junior kids and upto 2 pm for the more older ones. There is a private van operator to some areas.

The fee structure was the best part. There is an admission fee of Rs.6500, a term fee of Rs.5000 (there are 3 terms), an equipment fee of Rs.2000 and some other fee of Rs. 2000. We collected the application form and prospectus for Rs. 100 and came off. I am having second thoughts...

Plant penury & perm

Today as I was travelling in the auto - giving up my resolve to walk to the bus stop to make up for missing my morning walks - in the searing Chennai heat, I eyed the plants with their dusty leaves in the road medians, part of the Singara Chennai drive. I wondered when the next rain would come to rescusitate the poor plants, which didnt look they were being watered regularly - save for the ones maintained by some institutions like at major junctions. The others were left to the mercy of the Corporation workers in charge and the weather gods.

In a rainfall-deficient city like this, the Corporation should think of planting cacti. Even the savam-naari (corpse-stinker?) that supposedly beautify cemetries in Kerala and grows in the wild looks so forlorn and unhappy here in the 'median' gardens.

So any guess who was the happiest when a sudden shower in the afternoon cooled down temperatures?

Mount Road received only modest rainfall but V called to say our area was waterlogged and he was late getting Ash from school. Mira didnt go today as her cough has been pretty bad. She went through a few tests and Xray at the hosp yesterday, and the results should be ready by evening today.

And she is getting friendlier with people - while we carried on our business in the adult world, first at the hospital and then at Viveks in our quest for a new AC, she struck silent conversations with a smile or a gesture with adults who were free to befriend/play with a child. She also got a summer haircut at a beauty parlour we sighted at the car parking area - only it makes her look sicker than ever.

We are thinking of a tonsure soon - the beautician tells me that it could even help Mira get soft, straight hair like V's as opposed to the thick, wavy hair she has inherited from me. I will be the happiest if that is possible, living as we do in times when straight silky hair is fashionable.

In my childhood, curly hair was the rage in Kerala. I mean people thought that those who had straight hair were unlucky to have them. My mom, who has straight hair, still thinks that curly hair is a gift from God!

Cricket fever

Chennai is breathing cricket and the boss asked me casually if I didnt want a pass/ticket to the India-SA match. I said I wouldnt mind a pass for Saturday for V. I prefer to watch on TV if I have to follow the match. Another senior colleague has also offered a pass, which I had declined initially. I have gone once, I think it was the last day of the India-Australia match in 2001 which India won. From where I sat I could only see only Kumble and Shane Warne (my Aussie penpal wanted to know if I sat close enuf to spit on his face!!). A friendly chap from the workplace enlightened me as to where Sachin stood. That was the closest I got to see of Tendulkar in flesh and blood.
But it is fun to be at the stadium for the ambience - all the drumming, whistling, the painted faces etc. etc. As far as I am concerned, once is enough.

Call waiting

"Auto at doorstep, govt fixed rate + Rs.20, call 3999 3999 (90 lines)", says a frequently repeated ad in the classified section of The Hindu.

Not bad, I thought, if I need just pay Rs.42 +20. Reasonable when compared to the Rs. 80 I pay now one way. (The autodrivers at the stand nearest my place have hiked the fare by Rs.10. 'Petrol prices have gone up, madam,' they inform me.)

Tried the number yesterday and today and got the message, "This number is temporarily out of service". Is this some kind of a hoax? Will the Chennaites' dream of riding by metered fare ever be a reality?