Screaming out loudly "Mama Vandachu" , I trigger a resonance in the house and rush to the door in anticipation of one of my uncles who would just be returning from the office.
On his entry, I poke my hands through his pockets in anticipation of some goodies..May be a dairy milk or a pack of nutties.This would be a scene from most of my summer vacation trips to my Maternal grandpa's place in Madras...
49/4 Icf East colony was more like a second home to me and a place that's probably the reason behind my liking for Madras as a city..
The sound of the Bell from the tricycle of the "Kulfi wala" , apprising the kids of the colony that he's back to business that night, is still fresh in my memory..
The huge window in the hall through which I used to peep out to see kids of my age play and dance in joy, elderly people go for late evening/night strolls and the youngsters just gather at one corner of the road to babble out their time..
For long, My Uncles, all of whom were bachelors then and my grandparents kept me under this impression that the person who rides through the streets every night with a pot covered with a red coloured cloth was infact selling "Puliyogare" and not kulfi.. Being a very gullible kid that I was, I used to fall a prey to their fallacies.
No wonder My Mom was very much the phenomenon behind my folks deluding me..She would just not allow her kid to have a kulfi from a road side vendor...That s not salubrious..
Being the only grandchild of the house then, I was very much a darling of the house and that I still enjoy that much of love inspite of all my uncles getting married off and some new kids arriving in the family, speaks volumes of how much I was loved in the family..
Anyway, lemme not digress..More on "One night at 49/4"...I would have just come back from a visit to the type writing institute, where my grandpa used to be an instructor. Until before a few years my grandpa was riding a bicycle...It was this very cycle in which he used to take me to the type writing institute..Man O Man, He had the patience to commute in a bicycle for close to 50 years of his life..
My Mom and grandma would be busy in the kitchen..My third uncle used to be busy studying in one room..He was a model of Perseverance.My dad still quotes his life as an example of how not to get flinched by failures and push hard for success. The eldest of all uncles jocularly used to remark that he would not be surprised if the chair my third uncle occupied while studying gets damaged due to extensive usage..Such was the intensity with which he used to study. He's now a fellow in CA,ICWA and CS...
The 2 youngest of my uncles were what I was until a few years back in college..Friends, road corner meet up's, late night chats was almost a regular feature those days..They used to storm into the house as late as at 12 o clock and have their dinner..Not speaking a word in return to grandma and Mom s railing, they used to go on serving food for themselves and hit the sack in silence...If this was the case inside the house, on those occasions when I used to go out of the house looking for my Uncles, who ll be standing at the end of the road along with their friends, I enjoyed staying late outside the house..Carrying a cricket bat along, I always used to find my uncle or his friends coming forward to bowl a few balls at me,under the brightness of the light coming from the big lamp post at the end of the road...Flood lights had just embraced the world of cricket then and I was already experiencing it.
It would have already been 12 when My mom would start pestering me to sleep...Sleeping so late meant that I would invariably wake up after every other person had woken up..Most often, I would find myself being awakened by the "Divya prabhandham" that starts playing in the Music system..As much as I hated it in my childhood, I realised the essence of the prabhandham as I grew old..No wonder it symbolises the faith of an Iyengar household !!
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Monday, September 04, 2006
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