The Inconvenient Truth

It all began after watching the movie-Cinema Paradiso.The movie metamorphosed that dormant,imperceptible dream into a strong,trenchant desire.I loved the back ground music in the movie and I was seized by a mad,irresistible longing to play it all by myself.I'd always wanted to play a piano,but it was dumped along with all the other galactic childhood fantasies that I nestled.After watching 'Mastermind India' in BBC where those formidable men with a surplus dose of grey cells would answer mind baffling questions at lightening speed, I would be possessed by an intense,burning desire to enhance my general knowledge.But those were just the vagaries of a mediocre mind that vaporised after a day.But this time there was a palpable difference,may be growing up has pruned my dishevelled self a bit.
All circumstances were in favour of me taking music lessons except for a large gaping void,I absolutely had no musical skills.When papa came to know of my intentions he was stupefied.
"Natasha,You inherit your musical genes from me and I clearly know how horrifying they are!"He observed.
"Papa,I know that my songs are sickening.But here I'm making a piano play which needs concentration,dexterity..and may be a quantum of music sense, which I have!"I replied confidently.
"To play a piano,you need thalam and you have virtually nothing of it!"Papa spoke like a veteran trainer.
I couldn't fathom what he was saying as I was grappled by a strong delusion that I could certainly do it.I vehemently dismissed his judgements as 'outrageous and discouraging'(particularly from a father)and walked away.

'Royal Music school' was just five minutes walk from my college.Also,mostly I had no classes in the afternoon,so spending one hour once in a week cannot be considered as time consuming.So six months after watching the movie(the genes for procrastination are incorrigibly imprinted in my genes!)I set out with Dhivya to enroll for keyboard lessons.I remember that it unanticipatedly rained that day(even the heavens were alarmed at the task I was embarking on!).
I started getting nervous as I approached the place.I met my future mentor for the first time that day(He is one of the famous musicians in Kerala).One of my friends was already taking key board lessons from him and I'd particularly asked her if there would be a screening test.(which would invariably deny me an entry)
Pramod sir looked at us questioningly(I felt like he was searching for my kid who wants to take the lessons).
"I would like to take keyboard lessons,sir" I tried to sound as natural as possible.I perceived a flash of a certain emotion in his eyes which vanished before I could positively define it.
"So,have you taken music lessons before?"He asked me.
"No,sir.I never had anything to do with music."I assured him.
I had attended compulsory music lessons until my third standard.Our teacher taught us a prayer song each day. At the end of the term we had an exam for which we were to sing one of the songs we were taught.Those who were reluctant to sing were awarded F grade,while I who always sang was awarded an E.The irony of it is that I always thought that I was singing like a nightangle.I couldn't possibly tell him these dismaying truths of my past.
As he started searching his books for a proper timing,I quickly glanced at the classroom.I saw a little girl in pink dress(looked like five years of age to me)proficiently playing the key board.My eyes frantically searched for an older face,unfortunately I coulnot spot any.Athira had already told me that there would be only kids here,but watching it in reality was hard to swallow.I couldn't help feeling a bit uneasy,for the first time I asked myself whether my intentions were wise enough.But I had already crossed the Rubicon,now there wass no turning back.
"So,will Monday afternoon be alright with you?"His voice interrupted my sick thoughts.
"It is okay,sir"I replied,trying to maintain a calm demeanor.
"So,when do you want to start?"
The dominant impulse at that moment was to run away.
"Why don't you start now?"
I was visibly alarmed.I needed time to adapt to the fact that I would be sitting with a bunch of top notch Lilliputians for the rest of the classes.
"I'll come after two weeks,sir"I answered hesitantly.
"Why such a big delay?..He was surprised.."Okay as you say.Come after two weeks." He added after a pause.
I was relieved to leave the room.Later when I was back in my proper senses I felt I should have agreed to his suggestion and started taking my lessons on that day itself.
Anyways,I was happy,I finally joined for music lessons.

Day:One
The first day he taught me "The Rudiments of Music".I didn't touch the keyboard that day.I did not impress him in anyway which was quite natural,but surprisingly I did not appall him either.
"Do you have a keyboard"He asked me.
"No,sir,but my sister has promised me to get me one if I attend the lessons for three months"
"So,how will you manage till that time?It is difficult to move forward without regular practice"
At home,I placed my present need before my parents,both of them strongly protested.
"Amma,you are asking me to learn a subject without getting me the text book"I reasoned.
"But what if you stop after one month.Then what will we do with that?Keep it in the showcase?!!"Amma asked
"I won't stop" I promised
"You will not attend these lessons for more than three months,either you will voluntarily quit or he will chuck you out!"Papa solemnly predicted.
"If I'd taken Engineering I would bee earning tons of money now and I wouldn't be begging before you like this"I said,giving a melodramatic sigh at the end.
After three days of relentless imploring I succeeded in getting them to buy me a key board.My heart was sailing in the sea of happiness that day.I was all set to become a junior Mozart.

Day:Two
I placed my hands over the keyboard (professionally)for the first time.It took him about half an hour to teach me how to properly place the hand over the keyboard,even after that I tended to position them wrongly.(If there is a Nobel prize for Patience he is definitely a potential candidate).
I somehow harboured this false,dangerous idea that the faster I play,the more impressed he is going to be.So what I produced was an unpleasant collection of sounds rather than music.
He would patiently play it again for me to understand. He pressed each key with the prowess of an expert,the sound of each note seemed to give him immense pleasure.
"When you play the piano,you should sit straight and read each note with style.You are sitting like this..."Saying this he gave me a mock demonstration of my posture which made me hang my head in shame!
A little later a sickening thought crossed my mind.He must be thinking that I'm a big stupid.I was just about to shrug it off when his voice sounded from behind solidly asserting my random reflection.
"Natasha,are you really able to follow what I'm saying?"
"Yes,sir"I replied miserably.
End of Day.2....I left the class with a dubious mind,questioning my musical skills.

Day:Three
It is always hard to get rid of a bad habit,I still couldn't cast off the speed nuisance(which would have worked out well with musical wizard)but I ended up pressing a wrong set of keys.
"Play in a rhythm.Only then you will get it right"He said.
"Okay,sir"I replied meekly.
"This rhythm,Natasha,you see you get it genetically.It can't be taught"He told me at the end of the class.
The same fact that papa had tried to convince me,the same one that I'd furiously revoked,I had it now from the mouth of an expert.I was alarmed,was he implicitly showing me the red card?
End of Day.three-I returned home with a self image completely torn apart by the realization of bitter truths.
Day:Four
Adversities compel you to bring out the best possible output.I carefully practiced the pieces that were to be the played the next day.It worked!!I was showing visible improvement,meaning I rose to the agreeable status of a mediocre beginner from the scornful position of a lame, flimsy toddler.
"You are playing much better now"He told.I beamed with pride.
"But people usually express the rhythm in the music by either tapping their feet or by a galloping movement of the fingers while playing.I don't see any expression of rhythm while you are playing"He observed.
"I'll try,sir...to express rhythm"I replied in a low voice.
He chose this day to test my cognizance of the world renowned musicians and their acclaimed works.The only two names I could relate to in the music arena are Beethoven and Mozart.(I had studied a chapter on Beethoven in my tenth standard,all I know about him could be condensed in a simple sentence,He was from Germany and he was deaf.And Mozart,I virtually knew nothing of him beyond his name until a few months back when I watched a movie based on his life 'Amadeus').I sadly realized that my musical ignorance was about to be unveiled.
He played a piece which instantly reminded me of 'eee januvariyil 'from the movie Akale.
"So,have you heard this before?"
I was glad I knew the answer.
"Isn't this from the movie Akale?"
He looked at me as if I had just uttered the worst blasphemy ever.
"This is 'Fur Elise' by Beethoven.Do you know Beethoven?"He asked me.
I was deeply offended,not because I had impetuously let out the wrong answer and insulted Beethoven,but by the awful realization that he has placed me with the bunch of blockheads in the peak of ignorance who were completely oblivious to the existence of a musical genius as Beethoven.
"Yes,sir,I have heard of him" I replied meekly.
He played the next piece.I was hearing it for the first time,it did not even strike a cord of familiarity.I weighed the risk of letting out the only other name I knew,Mozart.No,it was not worth it.I did not want to verbally kill any more musical prodigies.
"You haven't heard this??!!!It is quite famous"He was bewildered.
He played it once more thinking that I had not listened to it properly .Failing to draw even the slightest signs of awareness from my looks,
"This is Te...xyz"
I couldn't even properly make out the name as it was totally alien.My chafed pride kept me from asking him to repeat it again.I dearly hoped he would put an end to this ordeal.Luckily he stopped the quiz with a parting advice, "You should try to be more involved with music".I heaved a sigh of relief.
He was telling me something about 'Sa Re Ga mA..' and I seized the chance to let out something I knew.Do Re Me Fa..
"You know DO Re Me..?!!! ?"He spoke as if he has just heard a puppet recite Wordsworth..
The next arrow..!!It didn't hurt badly as before because I had partly accepted the unpleasant fact that he has tagged me as an ignoramus.
End of Day:Four I was half relieved,the chance of him throwing me out has partly faded although my musical ignorance was stripped naked.

That is where I stand now having completed one month of my Music Classes.I hope to continue the lessons for atleast one year.I wonder whether I'll be able to carry along the Herculean task that long with the fracuted,dilapidated musical skills that adamantly reside in my intransmutable genes.

The Unkept Promise

As it was the post OP day,the ward was apparently crowded.A little kid ran by my side holding an aeroplane.The sight of the toy reminded me of what I've been procrastinating for the last two weeks.I still hadn't bought the toy that all students should carry to supposedly establish a rapport with the child and make them stop crying while taking the case.All my batch mates already had balls ,rattles,or squeaking teddy bears to amuse the kids.Each time I saw them take the toy from their coat pockets,I would be sickly reminded of my forgetfulness and I would promise myself to get the toy the same day itself.As they smartly used their colorful toys to allure the child,I would use primitive means like snapping the fingers which invariably never pleased the kids at all.

The third week of my paediatric posting had just begun and still my pockets were not adequately equipped.
A voice inside taunted me with a string of accusals."Today,definitely today!"I promised myself for the umpteenth time.Suppressing the pricks of conscience,I tried to hold the attention of the boy with the aeroplane with a friendly gesture."Monte perenthaa?"I asked him bending down to hold his hands.Hr gave me a 'not so friendly' stare and ran off making a "whooooo" sound while flying the aeroplane.Hmm..Stranger anxiety' a normal milestone in the development,I remembered the professor saying in the morning lecture.When does it disappear though,I wondered as I entered the ward.The beds that were empty the previous day were now filled.All my batch mates had already started to take the cases.Not wanting to lose anymore time on vacant thoughts,I approached ten year old boy who was sitting on the bed and busily colouring a picture with crayons...


I was fondling a three month old baby when Neena tapped on my shoulder and asked"Natasha,see that boy over there,how old do you think he is?"When I looked to where she was pointing I saw a little boy dressed in a yellow shirt and black trouser.I was never good at guessing the age of anyone looking at the faces.A month before my paediatric posting began one of my first cousins visited us with his little girl.In between the conversation,I casually asked"So,how old is she now,Roychetta,three..?".Only when I saw his deeply offended face with 'does she look that old?"expression did I realize my mistake."One year and four months"he answered.I scolded myself for opining on something I had no idea.I sheepishly muttered something like"I always go wrong while guessing the age" and hastily walked to the kitchen.
Now the little boy Neena pointed at seemed to be four years of age to me.Knowing that my guesses were always a bit ahead of the normal value,
I answered "three"
"Even I guessed the same.But he is seven years old.He has rickets"Neena said
My jaw dropped at her answer.Seven years??!!I looked at the boy in disbelief,half shocked.
Rickets meant Vitamin D deficiency,that was all I could brush up about the disease.Even an upper primary student would be knowing that,I thought.I felt like a warrior who has come to the battlefield with an empty quiver.Dozen questions popped up inside my head-what are the features? how does it occur?is it curable?...my rusted grey cells groaned at the set of questions.Chiding myself for my ignorance,I walked to the kid.A lady dressed in a blue nightie and a headscarf was standing beside him,maybe his mother,I thought.With a cheerful smile,I asked him for his name.He didn't reply, instead he gave me a shy smile.
"Kunjaali,peru paranju kodukku"the lady prodded
"Aaaha!Kunjaali,nalla peranallo" I told.
"Are you his mother?"I asked the lady while tickling Kunjaali on his chest.
The lady seemed a bit uncomfortable at my question.
"No,She is there,outside" she said pointing to a middle aged lady.
"So,you are...?I asked.
"Both of us are married to Kunjaali's father" the lady replied with a blush.
Her answer surprised me.It reminded me of the Arabian Knights stories that I read as a child where many kings had more than fifty wives at the same time.I didn't want to embarrass her with more questions,so I left the topic,but I wondered how they managed to leave in harmony.
Kunjaali was very thin,almost to the point of emaciation,had a brown complexion and innocent black eyes.But what always drew my attention was the beautiful smile on his face which never disappeared.Even though he did not respond to any of my questions the smile was still maintained,undiminished in intensity.
He has not yet walked,has not yet started his studies,he has not yet done a million things that kids of his age could do.His parents carried him around like a one year old kid.He had eight siblings,all of them were normal.He was not admitted with anything to do with rickets,but with complaints of fever and cough which aroused the suspicion of pneumonia.
The next day a PG was taking his case,he never sulked or cried while being examined.He posed for all the photos(he was not a commonly seen sort of case)without any complaints.I saw his father the same day,a man dressed in full sleeve white shirt,a mundu with a belt across his waist,a cap over his head,and a long beard.I did not talk to him much,my mind was prejudiced against him for marrying twice,a concept I couldn't accept.
Over the days that followed I developed a strong feeling of love and affection for Kunjaali.Everyday I would pay him a visit before studying the other cases.Unfortunately,I still couldn't break the ice,he remained quiet despite all my attempts."Kunjali veetil ingane onnumalla,paatu padum,kalikum"his mother told me.
As a final venture to make him talk I decided to implement the Godfather concept-give an offer that he couldn't refuse.
"Kunjaali,which one do you like-a bus or a car?"I asked.
As usual,he did not reply.
"If you answer my question smartly,I'll get you that tomorrow"I bargained
"Bus"he replied meekly.
I was happy that finally I could make him talk something ,even if it was as a simple three lettered word.
"Tomorrow,I'll get you the bus."I promised him.He smiled.That day,I helped him write his name in my book Holding his hands gently,we wrote 'MuhammedMustafa' in capital letters.His smile broadened as we finished writing.Did he understand what was written,I wondered while giving him a shake hand for writing the name.
The next day I didn't attend my posting ,all the lazy,inert genes were switched on.Anyway,the cases would be the same the next day,I told myself.I did remember my promise,but it could wait for one more day,I thought.
On the second day,as soon as the morning lecture was over,I ran outside to the street vendor to get the toy.I bought a yellow bus and a blue motor van,double treat for having made him wait for one day,I told myself.I happily walked in to the ward.I was shocked to see that Kunjaali's bed was empty.Maybe he went to take some tests,I thought.I went to the bystander in the neighboring bed and enquired about Kunjali."He was discharged yesterday evening" she told me.
My heart sank.Only if I had attended the posting yesterday...,I told myself bitterly.I could picture Kunjali leaving the place,sitting on his father's shoulders,waiting eagerly until the last minute for the bus that I had promised.
"You gave the little boy hope"my conscience tortured me.My laziness ended up in hurting the feelings of a little boy.
I did not feel like giving the toys to any one else.I took them home..maybe I could present it to someone during my next paediatric posting which was going to be after one year ,I thought.I kept the two toys in the big open wooden shelf(used to keep books)in my room.
Even now the toys are there,and each time I see them I'm bitterly reminded of Kunjali and the promise unkept

The Hair Irony

"Don't you think it is time for Natasha to get her hair cut?""Amma asked Papa enquiringly.Papa nodded in approval.My heart sank,the moment I've been dreadfully waiting for has finally come.Amma has noticed that my hair has grown long,that is up to the level of the nape of my neck.I clearly knew the ordeal that was to follow,I had gone through this many times.An unhappy Natasha will walk along with papa to the nameless barber shop at Chevayur.I'll be seated in the swivel chair next to papa and the old man will begin his job,scissors in the right hand,comb in the left..Tears will roll down my face with each lock of hair that fell on the floor.But the merciless man had no qualms about a little girl's tears.He was totally dedicated to the job that he was entitled to do.He would continue his work nonchalantly and at the end ,he would give me one of the finest boy cuts.

This isn't the end of the nightmare.I hated going to the school after having a boy cut.Those tactless peers would taunt me with a shower of insults.

"Ayye!Now you have turned to a motta"

Back home I would place my wounded heart before Amma.How could she do such a big crime to a girl who had grown up hearing the fairy tales of Rapunzel.Even Samson had his strength concentrated in his hair.
To run salt into the wound,there was Nandita at home with her hair up to the shoulders.While she stood before the mirror plaiting her hair on both sides,tying it carefully with a black ribbon,I stood there staring at her enviously,brushing my hair for the umpteenth time and readjusting my black hairband.

"Why don't you allow my hair to grow,Amma?"I'll ask her longingly.

Amma always had solid reasons for cutting my hair.

"Only if you cut your hair will it grow thicker".I didn't get the logic behind her answers.I was no budding film actress,I was perfectly happy with the thickness my hair had.
I begged,I implored,I cried,I sulked,I grumbled,I screamed,I expressed a whole gamut of emotions from sadness to madness.Alas!All my words appeared to have fallen on deaf ears.
Amma once said "Whatever you pray for on Good Friday at three o'clock will be granted because that is the time when Jesus died." That boosted up my wounded spirits.I pulled myself together and started to pray.For four years I made the same wish ,even a saint would have lost patience by this time.
The situation turned worse when Amma decided to master the art of hair cutting with poor Natasha as her experimental specimen.Till that time, the hair cutting ceremony had enjoyed the privilege of getting procrastinated.But now, everything started happening in a jiffy.As soon as Amma notices(no,I feel she was watching for it) that my hair has grown,she would run for the scissors.I would sadly watch my precious hair being swept away and thrown into the trash.
At last,I chose the only option that was left.I decided to patiently wait for the time when I could have long hair.Nandita had long hair when she was in the seventh standard.That meant after two years I can say 'No' to haircuts.
But,destiny had different plans.A very unpleasant incident occured in my seventh standard that caused a sudden drastic change in my attitude towards long hair.
At that time the four of us, Papa ,Amma ,Mathew and me would leave home at 8:45 so that Papa could drop Amma at her college which was in the town.On the way back,Mathew and me would get down at the school.
I simply loved these trips to the town when I would put my head out of the window and enjoy the strong breeze that was blowing,it always boosted up my energy stores.But unfortunately,,the breeze would have played all the 'windy' games on my hair .So,by the time,I reached the school I'd a Medusa head appearance.On the destined day,I saw my class teacher staring at me during the morning prayer section.I wondered what kept her looking at me that way.Anyway,she didn't keep the suspense for long.
"Natasha!Stand up!what have you done with your hair?!!"
I proudly gave my hair a gentle stroke,it was beginning to grow.
But the teacher had other plans.
"Do you have a comb now?"She asked.
"No!"I answered,quite surprised at her question.Who would be carrying a comb in the seventh standard?!!
"Does anybody in the class have a comb?"She was not ready to leave me alone.
I was almost sure that there would be no one.To my surprise,Ritu proudly stood up and produced a comb.I felt like whacking her head.She handed me the comb, avoiding my sour expression.I was already struggling in the sea of embarassment and now she has come to push me down further.
"Go to the back of the class,comb your hair neatly and then take your seat!"
I wished I could miraculosly develop some wings and just fly away.Everyone in the class was enjoying the drama,except me.Not only did they find it highly amusing,but it also took away a part of the boring social class that was to follow.With a heavy heart,I went to the back and hastily combed my hair.I pretended to ignore the hundred eyes that were staring at me.
But the wicked teacher was not planning to end the fun for the rest of them.
"Now is this the way to comb your hair"She chided.
Ahh!!Now my hair style didn't please the young lady!
"Ritu!Go help her with the hair"
Ritu obediently left her place and combed my hair.That seemed to satisfy the teacher.I returned back to my seat,with a self image completely torn apart.
A dejected,bitterly disappointed Natasha returned home and told Amma
"Amma,please cut my hair!"
By the time,I reached the high school,the wind of change was blowing.There was a change in my attitude towards everything.The old story of Rapunzel was forgotten.I noticed that every lady who made a mark in the history had short hair-Margaret Thatcher,Indira Gandhi.Well,even queen Diana had short hair and I wanted to be no exception.So,I willingly obliged each time Amma felt like cutting my hair.
I had my last boy cut in my ninth standard.After that I always had hair long enough for a pony.
After joining the college,I started having frequent haircuts especially after the exams.After every exam(which invariably turns out into a big flop)I take the decision to turn over a new leaf.As the first step towards changing,I always cut my hair.Even when I know that it is insane,I seem to do it again.So sadly,I never had the luck to see me in long hair.
Now,Catherine Zeta Jones and Samvritha Sunil have replaced Ms.Thatcher and Ms.Gandhi,I desperately want my hair to grow long,up to my waist.My friends gave me a lot of tips to magically make hair grow long.I chose the cheapest and easiest of all of them.
Hair massage
For the past one week,I've been giving my hair frequent massages.
Yeasterday when I went to the church one of my friends asked"Hey!You again cut your hair?!!"
That was the end of the massage sessions.

The barbar shop from where I had my boycuts as a child is still there.I hated the shop not only because of the haircut ,but also because it had no name.What if someone asked me "Hey!where did you get the haircut from?" what was I to say?!!I was too ashamed to admit that it had no name.

It was a single room,not very spacious and could attend two people at a time.The shop was owned by an old man,later his son joined him in the business.Amma always said that the oldman did a better job though I couldn't make out any difference.Both of them made me look ugly,I felt.Usually papa and I had our haircuts together.Some men would be sitting by the side reading the newspaper discussing a whole range of issues from politics to the recent price hikes of the onion.(similar to what is seen in some malayalam movies)I would be silently crying,trying to grab the oldman's sympathy by giving him a helpless glance with my swollen red eyes.(it was fruitless)

Almost every male in Chevayur had their haircut from this shop.The next nearest shop was in the town,so the shop was crowded most of the time.Even Mathew used to have his haircuts from this shop until recently.

Three months back a new saloon was opened in Chevayur,in the road opposite to the old man's barbar shop.Spacious,airconditioned and with an alluring facade'Your Style' men's saloon easily attracted crowds.But it certainly lacked the rustic beauty of the old shop.Mathew visited the shop the first week itself.He returned with his new haircut one hour later(the shop was so crowded that he had to wait for a long time).He was completely satisfied with the work-they used some electronic equipments,he told me excitedly.

The old man's shop was almost always deserted except for a few old customers occasionally.When Mathew was getting ready for his next hair cut I asked him to visit the old shop for a change and he scoffed at me.Papa still has his haircuts from the barbar shop,though.

Play of Colours!

As my next semester begins the next week,I decided to get a new bag.A new semester is similar to a new year at school,besides I've been using the same bag for the past two years.So off I went to the town to buy a new bag.I always take Amma with me,I don't think very high of my aesthetic senses.Also if I buy something by myself,Amma is sure to find some fault with it.So,taking her along is the safer and better option.
We screened through a lot of bags.The final match was between two bags,a blue one and the name of the other color,I don't know,but all I can tell is it pleased my senses.I looked at the price tag,the one with the 'nameless colour' was costlier.This seemed to enhance the beauty and poise of the second bag,the blue one seemed less appealing.
"I'll take this one.The blue one seems a bit grotesque.Besides this one has a bigger side pocket and the material also seems to be stronger.This will last long".I spoke like a veteran who had handled a lot of 'materials' to make out the difference.Anyway,my argument seemed to convince Amma.
We took the bag to the bill counter.As we were standing in the queue,Amma asked "Wait,don't you think the colour is a bit different now?".Here,my eyes cheated me.I couldn't make out any difference."You must be imagining,Amma.".I shrugged off the question.
A happy Natasha landed home and proudly displayed everything before papa.As I took the bag out I could definitely make out a difference.The pleasing colour has transformed into something bland and dull.I couldn't believe my eyes.I looked at the bag at different angles hoping it would miraculously revert to the old colour.Alas!It stubbornly maintained the new colour,which I can easily describe.It is almost similar to the colour of cow dung,at least that is what I'm reminded of each time I look at it.My heart sank into a sea of disappointment.
The only option left for me is to sit and curse Murphy for actively carrying out his job even during Pooja holidays.
I can't change the bag now,I have already removed the price tag.(Murphy always does his job in perfection,leaving no loop holes to escape).I may have to take my old bag,I can't bear to carry something that has the colour of cow dung on my back.But,I have no excuse to tell Amma.She has always been complaining of me always buying things and never using them.Using the old bag will give a boost to her rantings.
Even now,when I go to my room,I pass a quick glance at the bag,hoping for a sudden magical change.But the more I look at it,the more faults I seem to find.Now,I feel the bag lacks symmetry,it seems to be less broad and too long and the colour is more bland than ever before. Bruised heart,a bad way of starting a new semester.Sigh!!
Hail!Murphy.

The boy who hated ice creams

'I scream,you scream,we all scream for ice creams' Mathew also screams when he sees ice creams,but fortunately for me, what he lets out is a scream of intense dislike.Mathew hates ice creams or any other cold dessert.I remember a 'Thennali Raman' story where he gives his cat a bowl of hot milk straight from the stove to drink.The poor cat unaware of the prank,greedily takes a big gulp from the pan.After this nightmarish experience,the sight of milk made the cat shriek and shudder.But,Mathew's aversion for ice creams cannot be accounted for by any such horrible experience.
Here is the story of "The boy who hated ice creams",my fairy tale version of what happened to Mathew's senses on a destined day in his kindergarten.


I went for a one day tour to Kappad in my fifth standard.At the end of the day we were given ice creams and there was a girl in my class who didn't like ice creams.I was surprised to learn that such people existed."How could someone hate such a lovely thing as a cup of ice cream." I thought.And just for a moment,I wished I'd someone in my family who hated ice creams(I didn't specifically say my little brother,actually I didn't think about it that way).

There was a fairy named Mandy who lived in the woods near Kappad.She was a good hearted fairy who was always ready to lend a helping hand,but she suffered from the incorrigible but benign ailment named forgetfulness.One day she was resting on the branches of a palm tree ,enjoying her nap,after the lunch.It was then that she heard a sweet little girl making a simple wish.The fairy was in a very good spirits that day,and it was also a long time since she used her wand.So she decided to shower her providence over the charming girl.

She flew over to the kindergarten in Presentation and decided to cast a spell over the innocent boy who was busy playing Hide and seek in the school ground.Now,by the time the fairy reached the school,she was exhausted.She had a long flight from Kappad to Presentation and her wings were hurting.She wanted to finish the job and return to the woods before dawn.She raised her wand,but suddenly she was confused..

"Now,what did the little girl want,was it ice creams or chocolates?" Mandy wondered.No matter how hard she thought, she couldn't make up her mind.. At last, she lost her patience and gave up.She was already late,the sun was beginning to set.She chose the only option that was left.

"Let the little boy hate both ice creams and chocolates".Saying this,she flew back home.

The fairy forgot to add that"Let his share be enjoyed by his younger sister" (I must say that this was a big mistake from the part of the fairy,especially when the boy had two sisters and one of them had clear domination over the other).

Thus,Mathew grew up hating both ice creams and chocolates.

"Why don't you just taste it?"I'll ask while happily devouring his share.

"It is so cold,my tongue gets numbed" He would reply

"Then why don' t you eat it after after sometime, It may suit you then"

"But,then it is isn't ice cream anymore" he would say.

Anyway,we didn't urge him to taste it many times,what if he unfortunately started liking the taste!!!

Luckily,the fairy had cast a strong spell,he never ate more than a spoon .Everytime we attend a marriage I always make it a point to get a seat beside him,I don't want anyone else to lay hands over his share.He knows that I'm utilizing his 'weak point' and he'll sulk while I happily savour his cup of ice cream.Sometimes,when he can no longer withstand seeing me relishing his share, he'll say "Next time I'll eat my share of dessert.You needn't set your eyes on it".
Ahh!!poor boy,I could empathize with him,He so wants to like the ice cream,but he is helpless.His taste buds have been created(I mean,altered) in a unique way,favourable for his sisters. In the beginning I was worried about these 'next times' when he has threatened to have his share.But,thanks to the dear fairy!!each time he tastes the ice cream,it seems to numb his senses stronger than ever before,that these tasting experiments seems to hike his repulsion to the dessert.So,now ,when he says "I'll have my dessert" I'll hand him the cup willingly,sometimes Ieven boldly say "O.K,but don't think I'll eat what you have licked!"
If ice cream is too cold,chocolate is too bitter for him.After taking a bite of chocolate,he puts on an expression like he has drunk a cup of kashayam.Watching this sight is indeed an exhilarating experience for me.He likes chocolate-wafer combination as in Munch,but simply detests dairy milk and five star.The latest choco-treat that I enjoyed was a whole packet of Hershley's nuggets,another pack of Ferrero Rocher(I simply love this one)that Deechechi sent us two months back.I had no worries as to whether the packet would be empty when I wake up the next day.Now,Mathew is fifteen.He hates many more things that ordinary people enjoy(extension of the spell?)pepsi,cococola,all soft drinks.
Once,Amma told him"Eda,you should never,not even for fun take a drink of alcohol."
He replied with sigh"Why should you worry? I can't even take a sip of soda!"

Proverbs with a twist

Mathew was running and jumping in ecstasy.Finally his second standard annual exams were over.He had two months of fun and frolic stretched before him.
"How was your Malayalam exam?"I asked.
"Eeeeasy"!!!I'll get a hundred".He answered,handing me the question paper.
At that time,he always gave a mark for answer when asked how his exam was.
As usual,I began the routine question paper discussion that we always had on our walk back home.
There were not more than fifteen questions.Even before I'm finished with the question he would say the answer.
We finally reached the last question,
'randu pazhanchollukal ezhuthuka' I read the question and gave him back the question paper.
I was startled hearing the answer Mathew gave me.I repeated the question,may be he had heard the question wrongly.Nope,the same answer again.All of a sudden, it clicked me,the logic behind his answer and believe me,I had the laugh of a lifetime.
"CHAKKAPAZHAM,ETHAPAZHAM"
Of course,what else could be a pazhanchollu for a six year old kid.

Betrayed!!

"Eeshoye ottukoduthathu arranu?"



It was my half yearly malayalam exam back in fifth standard.


We had a short chapter on 'Eesho' for the exam.I didn't give the chapter much importance.Being a Roman Catholic attending Sunday school for five years ,I fancied that I knew a lot about Jesus.So why bother to read it?,I thought.


I weighed the question in mind.I knew that someone did betray Jesus and that was why he had to take the cross.But,who was it???!!!I brushed up the bible I knew..Suddenly I was enlightened,I remembered Jesus telling Peter"You willd deny me thrice before the cock crows"


Ofcourse,who else could it be,I wrote my answer confidently


'Pathros'


Our teacher has not given th is questin in the notebook.So,only those who had read the text will know the answer,I thought.And,I have written the answer even without reading my text.I congragulated myself,I really am sharp!!.


Back home,as usual papa began the question paper discussion.He reads the question and I sit beside him(at a safe distance,there is every chance of him kicking me)and say the answer.But this time I was sure I did my exam well.We finished with the meanings,opposites and finally came my 'masterpiece' question.

"Pathros" I answered promptly even before he finished reading the question.

The rest of the story is obvious.He called Amma and Deechechi,all of them had a hearty laugh.

As for me, I was quite surprised to learn that Jesus had a disciple name'Judas'.My pride fell from the peak to the pits.I heard the story of 'Judas and the thirty silver coins' for the first time that day.But even then I felt that my answer was also right.Denying that he had never known Jesus is also a sort of betrayal,I thought.
Even now on the Good Friday I am asked"Do you know who betrayed Jesus?"

Day 2 after exams

Today is the second day after my exams.During the exam time,I realized how little I knew my subjects and I felt real bad about myself.The only option left for me was to take the resolution to prepare well at least for the next set of exams.
"Even if you do these exams badly it is okay,we'll seize the next chance" I told myself.
I decided to buy the text books for the next semester right after the exams and start studying hard the next day itself.I'm a very good planner,I chalk out ideal timetables(ideal becuase I don't allot any time for sleep) before every exam,even when I know that there is zero chance of me following them.
I was happy when I knew that we had ten days before our next posting started.That meant a lot of time to study,maybe I'll revise Anatomy as well,I thought.So,when I was back home after my last exam,I told Amma,"From today on I'm going to study hard,Amma".She looked at me in surprise,The girl had just finished her exams now and now she is going to study??!!
I put on a very serious expression,"I need money to buy the books for next sem.I am starting to study them from tomorrow"
"That is good,Natasha.Finally you have decided what is good for you.So,How much do you want?"
"Ten,thousand!you know medicine books are quite expensive."
"Okay,get them tomorrow itself,not having books shouldn't keep you away from studies."
I felt happy.Everything is going smoothly,I felt.A voice inside me asked "Do you think you would be doing all these?"I ignored the dubious mind.
I'd heard somewhere that if you share your future plans with someone you'll get more oriented and so I decided to tell amma my target for the next ten days.
"Amma,I'll revise my first year portions these ten days.My anatomy is very weak,you know!I'll prepare for my Kerala entrance as well.That way,maybe I'll get through them at least the in the second attempt"
It worked!!!Even the short talk got me charged.
"Maybe,I'll get the books today after papa comes.That way I can start studying tomorrow morning itself".
"Do whatever you want"Amma was getting bored with my flight of ideas.
I decided to watch a movie,just to freshen up before starting the study escapade.I'd ten CDs that Salil sir brought the other day.I decided to watch 'Taxi Driver',a movie I'd been longing to watch for a long time.I loved it,but by the time the movie was over I was exhausted.I couldn't get the books that day because I was asleep long before papa came.
Now two days are over,I've bought the books,allof them-Davidson,Harrison,Bailey,but have not yet opened them.
"Are you not going to study??"Amma will ask me,when she sees me wasting my time as a couch potato.
"Why,Amma!!it is vacation."
Hope I start studying atleast tomorrow.

After the exam fever!

At last,those dreaded exams are over.Finally,I can relax,I've got a ten days holiday ahead,something that came along quite unexpectedly(the posting was supposes to begin today!) and hence very precious.Of course,It is Calicut university,I should have been surprised if I didn't get a holiday.
Even before the exams were over I had begun to plan my post-examination days.Everything except studies seemed so sweet and beautifulfor the last one month.Even I had plans to begin gardening after these horrible exams.This even surprised me as I always groan when Amma asks me to water the few plants we have at home.That is what is so peculiar about these exams,it is like a spell ,turning on the beauty in everything that seemed bland before.And,that is also the time when my self esteem keeps falling in pits,conscience keeps pricking me every moment.
Exams seem to bring the bad side of reality to light.During the last one month,I realized how much I was lacking in self control,how hard it was for me to concentrate,how fast my grey cells got exhausted..and many more ugly truths.!
I hate exams,especially when I do them badly.
Practicals are not yet over,that still leaves a feeling of incompletion,I can't bid farewell to those books altogether.

My first Holy Communion 1

"Deechechi,What does it taste like,this appam?"I asked Nandita curiously.
I was eight years old,in my fourth standard and half my friends had already had their holy communion.So,when they proudly walked down the aisle to have the appam,poor souls like me had to sit quietly, staring at the lucky ones,wondering what it would feel like after tasting it.So,I decided to quench my curiosity by asking my big sister.
"It doesn't have any taste!"She answered,sitting like an important person.
Her answer did not please me at all.I did not expect such a disappointing answer to my cardinal doubt.
How can something have no taste,I wondered.
"Water is tasteless,odourless and colourless."I remembered my Science teacher saying.
"So,is it like water?"I asked her,eagerly.
"No,not like water!You have to taste it,only then you will know,Natasha!"
"Do you think it would be okay if I walk with my classmates and eat the appam once?"
I had been planning this a number of times,but I never had the guts.
"So,you have never heard the story?"Nandita asked me looking surprised.
I couldn't figure out what she was talking about.
"What story?"
"Once,a girl ate the appam before having her first holy communion and do you know what happened?A voice roared from above,"Who asked you to eat my appam without my permission????????!!!".Everyone in the church looked at the girl with disgust,she got a lot of scoldings.None of her friends talked to her after that.".
I couldnt believe it..I knew she could very well make up stories,she had won prizes for story writing at school.But she seemed serious,I couldn't find anything on her face that would suggest that she was making the whole thing up.
"Where did this happen?"I asked ,still not believing her completely.
"Somewhere in Calicut itself."she answered promptly.
"It was even in the newspapers.I forgot her name..Neethu.. or something like that.Anyway,how will you know?You never read the papers." She continued her narration,nonchalently.
I almost believed her now.I imagined myself as that girl, the angry voice shouting at me from heaven,papa spanking me,my classmates playing games without me ,my photo in the papers...the poor lonely 'me'!Aaargh!!It felt horrible.I was glad that I asked Nandita before carrying out the plan all by myself.
"Do you want to end up like Neethu?"I'll ask myself whenever I'd this strong urge to join the 'appam queue'.So,from that day on,I waited patiently for the day of my holy communion,The day when I would be socially fit to eat the appam.).More than the appam it was about the 'big day ' -the white dress,the white shoes,the crown,the bangles and most importanly the gifts.

The beauty of Murphy's law

"I want to be the only child,it is definitely better that way",Nandita always said this when we discussed on how big our family should have been.I wanted it to be just the opposite.We are three now,I would have been happier if there were three more(Amma would be alarmed!)Mathew was not bothered about the number."I want to be the eldest plus I would like to have a youger brother!"he would say.He was fed up being bossed around by two elder sisters.Even I had felt the same several times,especially when Nandita fights with me.She is stronger and so she wins the war easily.I 'd always believed that this was becuase I was her little sister.But even Mathew,who is five years younger, can overpower me easily.So,being the eldest definitely doesn't give you the powers.
Anyways,none of us were granted our wishes.Nandita never got the chance to live alone with papa and amma.When I went to Trichur,Nandita was at home with Mathew.This was the closest she could reach to living her dreams.Mathew didnt get a younger brother.As for me I was given exactly what Nandita hoped for.Now,I stay at home with papa and amma,just the three of us.Nandita is settled in U.S and Mathew is now at Trichur trickling his grey cells.Ah!!!!This is the beauty of Murphy's law.

I wanted to start my blog with something to do with Murphy.Ever since I heard the law every silly problem in life seemed to be quite explainable.Hail,Murphy!!.