Being young, being old

Everytime you interact with someone younger to you, I guess you realise how old you are or at least how young you are made out to be. Because the former depends on your age - numerically where you stand since the day the doctor's hands ushered you into the world. but the latter is what really matters because thats what people percieve you to be.

I shall illustrate with an example. I happened to spend some quality time (4 days) with a teenager this week and have learnt some very important lessons.

First, that I could ride on a bus for 2 hours without speaking a word and yet not feel uncomfortable.

Second, listening is an integral part of being a teenager's companion.

Third, you need to watch out for unsaid gestures and caring words to understand what the teenager thinks of you.

Fourth, you are old enough to stand by and see someone else go through the same turbulence of teenage and know that they'll come out just fine :)

Finally, I came to know I was deemed as a fun person to be! I, who wont speak a word unless spoken to, who struggles with small talk, who isnt whacky, funny or quirky and yet I am fun!

Thats when I realised, it isnt in your age or how stereotypically young or old you behave. Its about who you truly are. Because once the novelty wears off, its the person within that matters.

And thats when genuine friendship begins. Not being judgemental helps a lot too.

I am glad I spent sometime with her because she taught me so much about myself. Thanks Miss Cool Teenager :)

Have you been a child lately?

May 22 2008

Have you ever danced in the first rains? Did you ever want to? I did. Yesterday. As I do every year. This is a childhood ritual. I remember school days when I would run down from my grandmom’s flat to get drenched in the rains. It is the most blissful feeling ever. You actually welcome nature.

There are communities across the world that celebrate nature and have rain festivals. Somehow many of us lose touch with that part of us. Yesterday as I stood drenched in the rains, I saw many adults standing in their balconies watching me and several children in the building behave like, yes you are right, hooligans! But it was fun. To shout with glee and dance to the raindrops. The children shivered yet didn’t give up. Everyone says we don’t have enough free time and hence go for holidays. But whatever happened to the small pleasures of getting drenched in the rains?

The smell of freshly drenched mud is the most memorable point of every rains. It brings back several memories many of which involve me actually eating mud :) I know many of the adults who stood in their balconies wanted to come down and join us but thought it was too childish. But as Geet says in Jab We Met “Its fun to be childish.”

I have friends who play like children. They want to win, don’t know how to play but nonetheless play. And they enjoy it. I know of people who never fear losing or looking like a fool. It is they whom I admire. Somewhere growing up involves instilling fear, embarrassment and guilt within us. We are “not good enough.” The film Bhootnath is really nice in the fact that it shows how often as children we never fear much – like ghosts. It is mostly adults who instil that fear of the unknown within children. We pass the “Crown of Fear” to others.

And to think, I am not even fond of children. In fact I repel them and vice versa. But that doesn’t mean I wont fight for their right to be irritating, stupid, brave and extremely childish :)

Paes-Hesh!

May 21 2008

What is best for the country, what is best for the team!

These terms really make me ponder. What is so wrong in what Mahesh Bhupathi is saying? He is being extremely wise in saying that there is no communication between him and Paes and how do two people win when they aren’t in sync with each other? And even if they do win, will that really count? Didn’t Shahrukh Khan make it clear in Chak De India, that we need to play as a team?

Instead of asking Mahesh to think of the country’s interests, I would say, make Paes and Bhupathi meet and talk out things for Olympics. Airtel ad is simple “Faasle mit jaate hai jab do baatein ho jaati hai!” I am sure the differences wont be ironed out, but at least they could mutually decide to play with each other for the Olympics. Keeping aside differences in the game doesn’t mean you overlook basic compatibility issues. Because even if they do pull it off, it wont last for long.

I have always found Bhupathi to be an extremely astute and calm individual who would think of the sport first. Even in his email, he is saying that incommunicado will make things difficult. For once, individuals need to be given attention because after all it is these individuals who make teams and differences do not fly out of the window!

Recounting my Tamilian side

May 15 2008

With my grandparents gone, my interaction with the Tamilian ways are almost extinct. The other day we went to buy coffee at one of those shops that make coffee and the smell of freshly ground coffee brought it all back to me. The extremely superb coffee my grandpa would make and then insist that it be drunk hot. It would be served in a tumbler and davra. Whenever anyone to this day says, “Wake up and smell the coffee” I remember the innumerable mornings that I would keep smelling the coffee made by my grandpa. And he would do it every morning of his 88 years without fail.

I would let you onto a small secret. Whenever I go to restaurants and eat South Indian food, I never touch the sambar. Somehow sambar to me has always meant my grandmom’s speciality and so I still never taste the sambar served in the hotel. I would eat it with curd rice and it tasted the best.

As a kid, I recall picking up cowdung from the roads for my grandmom’s plants at home. And there was no feeling of shame or yuckiness. It was a perfectly normal act which I would do with great sense of achievement because it made me feel useful for my grandma. We would put the dung in her rose plants and whenever the roses bloomed, she would proudly tell everyone that I had helped her and never have I felt more proud :)

Their home would smell of vivudhi and agarbatti and childhood smells stay with you forever. I also remember stealing some Yardley talcum powder and dress up as an actress with my face so white that it could scare any ghost. In my grandmom’s balcony, I reigned supreme. I blew kisses to imagined fans standing below and displayed my histrionics elegantly. Of course during one of such displays, I fell off the chair and almost killed myself but that’s another story.

I remember drying many items for her in our terrace. And whenever I was given the duty to ward off crows and pigeons from eating the drying items, I would sit in scorching sun and do my duty without complaining. Because I knew what those items meant to my grandmom (plus I would always get something sweet to eat in return ). I owe my sweet teeth (I have lost too many teeth to sweets) to my grandmom. Like her, I love sweets and everything from chocolates to mysore pak is relished.

With them gone, all of these smells and tastes remain with me and I relish reliving them time and again.