25 years and counting...

If you happen to read my blogs regularly, you’ll notice me notice two things: One, you readers are in the minority and two, I’ve been writing about my family for a change, recently. The reason could be anything from lack of perception to laziness. But trust me, I enjoy doing so!

Yesterday, my parents celebrated their 25th year of marriage. I’m purposefully not using ‘wedding’ here. Wedding happens every day but marriage takes time. They got married on 31st of May, 1985 and it’s been a long journey for them. For a pessimist like me who doesn’t conform to societal norms which sadly includes MARRIAGE too, I find my parents “conjugal bliss” overwhelmingly inspiring!

I’m not being judgmental here but we Indians tend to fight against all absurdity of individual space and try our best to make our marriage a success, unlike in the West. My parents were no different I guess. They always had their altercations; even on the smallest of issues like the taste of salt in food or the way Amma dressed us. They could argue on the stupidest of event. So the question keeps lingering in my head……...HOW DO YOU GET ALONG WITH A PERSON AS A SPOUSE FOR 25 LONG YEARS? I do admit that 25 is not a record or anything but from the way I see it, it’s indeed a record considering how different my mom and dad are from each other.

Ma has always been a fighter. She wouldn't give up easily and was not an emotional fool, so to say. Being educated from Manipal, like most of the girls at her time, she too wanted to be a nurse but she ended up a teacher. She kept injecting her pedagogy-moral values in us which make my brother and me the kind of person we are today. On the contrary, my dad was a softie with a very generous heart and a deeper pocket. He has always been a good human being and whole of Chembur can vouch for that! But I would say, out of these two enigmatic characters, Amma was the one who made their marriage work, all because of her adaptability to situations. Dad just floated along with the mundane wave and made sure we never fell out of basic comfort.

I like joking that my parents were happy for a long time…..and then they got married to each other. But at the back of my mind I see how happy they are together today, with all of us under one roof. He still calls her "Ponno" which is Tulu for "Girl" and that sounds beautiful during their never-ending arguments. Every morning, they go out together for walk and come back debating on trivial topics but there’s an undeniable cuteness to it. I hate idiotic TV soaps but my parents are a huge fan and that doesn't help my case either! They realize the fact they are not young anymore and they need each other more than ever.

As for me, of course, they don’t like my apathy towards “filial responsibilities” nor do they like my being more sincere on virtual world than in real, but they ADJUST and that’s been the key to their quarter century marriage run!

P.S. By the way, we celebrated their anniversary by visiting holy places like Siddi Vinayak Temple, Mahalakshmi Temple and Haji Ali. I didn’t trudge along this time. In fact, I participated and enjoyed too, in spite of my disdain for religious corners. We, along with my brother, had lunch and dinner together which is a rarity considering the clash of timing on usual days. It was a real celebration.

Ajjee

We live our life in a way that enamors millions of stories, some of them true and some of them not-that-true. But if we look into our past, the very idea of a story is mostly passed on to us by our grandparents, and in my part of the world, it’s undoubtedly grandma.

I too had one such grandma, from my maternal side. She was beautiful in spite of having thousands of lines on her face. She was kind and unbiased like no other person I know. Not even my amma matches her in this regard. Grandma was something else. You don’t find that kind of people very often.

Everything single time something bad happens (which happens most of the time!), the face that comes in front of me is not of my surviving family (with whom I hardly connect with!). That face belongs to someone who used to called me “Sunilo” when I was a kid and used to take me to river bank for a bath. The knot at the end of her sari used to be an territory of discord between all of her grandchildren but I liked to believe that I was her favorite grandchild.

It’s amazing how a person once gone refuses to go out of your memory and keeps reminding you of your inextricable roots. She died pretty weak and famished as her internal organs stagnated and her memory bid her farewell. I didn’t see her on her deathbed but I heard later that she looked peaceful in her deep sleep. Anyone could guess where she was leaving for.

Blowing out the 24th Candle!

Birthday is supposed to be a huge affair, be it yours or your dog's, for the simple reason that it doesn't repeat itself for more than once in a year. I'm not talking about those "leap year kids" who wait a bit too long for their next birthday to celebrate!

Well, talking of myself, I completed 24 years yesterday, on May 9th, 2010. Its like saying I accomplished 24 free trips around the sun. There's definitely a good feeling to have survived this long, with a bit of amnesia and growing grey hairs to count for. One more year and boom, quarter of allotted 100 years are gone. But who lives for a 100 year now-a-days except for some Japs and MF Hussain look-alikes.

There is some legend attached to my birthday and like all other legends, this one too, does not precede me. I was born on the very same day Tenzing Norgay died. He died during daytime and I was born by night. He was the first human being EVER to climb to the toppest tip on the face of our planet. He kissed Mt. Everest, poetically speaking. He climbed to the top and I'm digging deepest to the core!

Other than melancholy perception towards life, I believe these years I had were the best for any breathing soul out there. Though I sound pessimistic and dark on my Facebook statuses and Twitter tweets, but deep down I know I was one lucky bugger who got to do things the way he like, no matter how unappetizing it turned out in the end.

On a softer note, my bro and ma gifted me a nice piece of Fastrack watch, knowing perfectly well that I don't wear watches. But it was a failed attempt on their side and almost ruined the day for all of us! I kissed her Happy Mother's Day and made peace. As far as bro goes, I don't give much wind!

For the coming years, I want to be more responsible. I kept running away from my responsibilities and believed running is good for my health! I don't want to make the same old excuses. I want to try some new ones too. I concur that I'm terribly self-obsessed but frankly, I do realize that. But my only wish is to be remembered as that boy who never failed to laugh in spite of harboring heavy-duty mouth ulcers!

Maybe its time to think about life. Maybe its time to look out for that old-fashioned girl who is crazy enough to fall in love with me. Maybe its time to put a stop to all this absurdity called 'liberation from societal norm'. Maybe its time to just SHUT UP!