Please Stop Talking!

Imagine asking the simplest of questions and getting the longest, convoluted of replies!
It happens to me, ALWAYS! Tragically, I end up being at the receiving end… of muddled monologues. A verbal maze, in which I get lost with none to my rescue. Until I decide to break free from my shackles with abrupt, lame excuses.

Phew! Quite an escape, I reminisce.

Families and friends… none spare me. LOL :)
But then what’s life without these moments of exasperating humor?!
Exasperating to me, humor to you ( hopefully). :)

Read on…


DISCLAIMER

Any resemblance to any person living is purely INTENTIONAL. :)
Despite nightmarish memories, I did not harm any animal or human being during the creation of this article.

Priya’s Guidance: Refrain from continuing with this write-up, if you are on the verge of insanity already.
Warning: Keep out of children’s reach, lest they manifest symptoms of LSS: Long-Speech-Syndrome!


Me (over Skype): Amma, inaiki enna samayal anga?
Ma: Oh, adhuvaaa….naan nethiki car driver freea irundha dhanala kadaiku poi irundhen. Apo, beans, keerai vanginen.
Me: Oh, keerai kootu and beans currya?
Ma: (Annoyed) Konjam solradha kekiria?!!! (I shut up.) Kadaila, naan actress Shaktipriyava pathen! Adhan di Kolangal seriala nadichalae. She waits till I nod. Naan poi pesinen, “neenga Kolangal seriala nalla nadichirdhinga.” Ava romba sandhosha patta. En saree nalla irukunu kooda sonna. In a reflective mood: Indha actress ellam onum avalo azhagu illa. Ellam make-up pota dhan therum. Namma kuda nadikalam, theriyumo. (OMG!!! Was she serious here??!!) Aparom pesitu, counterla billa katitu oru vazhiya veetuku vandhu sendhen.
Vangitu vandhadha ellam fridgela vechaen (Oh, really? I thought they went into the washing machine!) ONE BIG PAUSE here to take a heavy breadth. Hummmmmm. Keeraiya aanji vechitu, beansa cut paninen. Aparom, unga appa vandhu patharu…inaiki idhaan samayalanu ketaru. Naan vera ena venumnu keten. Avar udane, “enaku inaiki tiffin sapadnum pola iruku.” Serinu andha keeeerayaaa eduthu vechitu (dragging), verum dosai pani kuduthen. Ipo dhaan saptu mudichom. Hummmmm. Seri, thotuka enna paninenu kelu. Vengaya chut…
Me: Ayyoo, ala udu… BYE!!!!!!
And I log off!!!!

Duration of the conversation: 10 minutes! Whereas 2 seconds is all it takes to tell what’s for dinner!



Me: Hi R, naan enaiki unga veetuku 5 maniku mela varlama?
R: Actually Priya, nanga rendu nalaiki munnadi oru printer vanginom. Nalla deal offer vandhudhu.
Me: Puzzled, I interrupt…Illa naan enna ketena…
R: Illai kellu nee…andha printera connect panni test panalamnu ninaichom. Aparom V adha set paninaru. Anal paren, first print out kuda seria varala. Edho print error kamchindae irundadhu! Seri konjam neram kazhichi try panuvomnu vitutom. Aparom K kuttyku dinner utitu, naanum avarum saptu mudichom. Time 10 ayduthu adhu kula. Serinu thoonga poitum. Aparom, adhutha naal, avar officeku poitaru. So, thirumba check panna mudiala!
Me: I turn on the loudspeaker and lie down on my bed. She continues unabated!
R: Priya, irukia?
Me: Iruken, iruken…enga odi po poren!!! (In my mind: Illa pogadhan mudiyuma?!)
R: Seri, aparom weekend vandhudhu. Saturday morning tiffin saptutu printera check paninom.
Thirumbavum error kamchidu. Adhukula lunch time vandhudhu. Oru 2 hrs aparom, grocery panitu
vandhu, seriousa ukandhum andha printer kuda. Vellaya seila. Pause….expecting me to say a few sympathetic words.
Me: Ayyo, romba kashtam pa…(was actually referring to my plight!!!)
R: Yeah Priya. Adha apadia thuki thania vachitom. Monday nan andha shopku call panni problem
explain paninen. Two days kula technician varvaru nu sonanga. Pause again…
Me: Vandhara technician?
R: Inaiki dhan avar vararu. So, sorry pa. Inaiki namma meet panna mudiyadhu.
Me: Oh ok. (Faking a disappointment) Seri, no problem, naan inoru nalaiki varen
R: Thanks pa…for understanding.
Me: My pleasure! (Pain would have been a better word!!!) Bye. Aparom panren.

Thereafter, I stopped asking her “Shall I come over today?” I just gate-crash.


Now comes the Masterstroke!

Me: Hello patti, epadi irukinga?
Grandma: Vadi en thangam. Nee epadi ma iruke?
Me: Fine patti. Unga udambu epadi iru…?
Grandma: Hummmmmmmmm. (Just like my mom! Yes, it’s genetic!) Edho iruken (in a resigned tone).
Me: Hoping that she will continue, I get a little closer to her. BIG MISTAKE!
G: Adjusting her specs, she eyes something. Mudiya cut panitia thirumbavum??!!!
Me: Am mute. Curse myself for getting in her ‘view’ point.
G: Kekaranla, vaila enna kozhukatia? Sollu…
Me: Meekly…amam patti. AM DONE NOW. History repeats…
G: Andha kalathula nanga ellam evalo mudi valathom theriyuma?! Not waiting for a reply, indha kalathu ponungalaku romba kozhupu dhan. Bab cutting (that’s how she said it!) paninundu thaya thaka thaya thakanu gudhika vendiyadhu.
She pulls my hair and continues… paaru..sembata parakudhu. Azhaga thala neeraya ennai thadavi, malli poo vechindu pona ena kedu unaku??!!! Nanga padicha kalathula, etenaku indha packet ennai thadavi, azhaga kunjalam vechi katti, kanagambaram poo slide pinala kuthindu povom. Ipo enadana, beooty parlor (please don’t even ask!) poi kasa kuduthu mudia keduthuka vendiyadhu. NONSTOP she can go!
Me: Mustering up courage…Illa patti…schoola…
G: School enna school…nan vandhu pesaren unga headmistress kita.
Me: Ayyoo venam patti….I palpitate.
G: Apo…ozhunga mudi valakara vazhiya paru. Katrichi utunda…adi vanguva. Aprom Schoola ozhunga padikira vazhiya paru. Andha kalathula… she beings a fresh chapter!
Me: Ayyoo…enaku avasarama bathroom ponom!!!!!!!!

I rest my case.

Things I Will Tell My Kid

Am yet to experience motherhood. Nevertheless. The moment I document these, it becomes a dictum…to be followed strictly. I promise to do so.

1) I will never force my thoughts upon you. I will respect your individuality, always.

2) I will not just provide books, bags, uniform and expect you to study. I will provide a peaceful environment (mental and emotional) for you to shine.

3) I will never bore you or send you on a guilt-trip by narrating my struggles as a child.

4) I will never ask you to find out the marks of another kid at school. Nor will I do it myself.

5) If you make a mistake, be the first one to apologize. I will too.

6) Likewise, if the mistake is not yours, never apologize.

7) Don’t glorify or idealize me. I’m not impeccable. Nobody is. Be your own role-model.

8) I will get into your world and share your joys. I will become a kid once again and listen to your stories.

9) Never miss your Moral Science or P.T. classes at school. Don’t touch your books then.

10) Never practice ‘academic’ discrimination at school. Your mom was not a great star at school. :):)

11) I promise to read up on Parenting before I bring you into this world.

12) Try not to judge anyone. Am trying too.

13) I will mature myself enough to let go…when the time comes. I know you came through me, but not for me.

14) I promise to become a better person, before I correct similar shortcomings in you.

What did I do in school??!!

NOTHING and EVERYTHING.

Nothing that my parents or teachers wanted me to do!!! LOL

Everything I thought I should be doing at school!!! LOL, again.


Here it goes…

… morning assembly at Holy Angels’ Convent. Am half-asleep. Five dosas and two cups of sambar for breakfast do make one sluggish, don’t they?! It was such ‘mass consumption’ that accounted for my ‘all-rounded’ personality during school days. :)

The Pledge was on. We repeat after the voice at the mike, Every Single Day. Yaawwnnn.

And that’s when, all of a sudden, a thunderbolt hit me! A bone of contention in the pledge!
The line: “All Indians are my brothers and sisters.”
My mind voice yelled: “How the heck am I going to get married if all Indians are my brothers??!!” Forget the sisters…who wants them anyway?!
I felt dizzy, pukish, fatigued. All symptoms of pregnancy appeared… even before I could solve the conundrum in hand and obtain a gate pass to wedlock.

After 1 hour of brainstorming during the first period (Chemistry, btw), I cracked it.
Add a clause: “All Indians are my brothers and sisters. EXCEPT ONE.”
Hurray, I solved it! A ‘chaste’ solution, I prided myself.

That said, my conscience now pricks me to confess: considering the innumerable times I’ve fallen in love with the Ajith Kumars, Suryas and Karthees so far…well, I could have at least listened to Ms.M. Even if it’s too late, a realization is a realization nevertheless.

Now, let me move onto some real, Nation-threatening, Earth-shattering concerns: Crows and
Black Sorrow! “Hey, she put black sorrow on me paaa…!”, I screamed and chased my friend (can’t recollect whom) around the school trying to ‘put back the sorrow onto her head’. Am sure the only person elated with our frenzied heroine-villi pursuit was our P.T. teacher, Ms.A. I was finally exercising, ain’t I?!

Patt! Thud! My hammer-hand landed on my friend’s oily head. It’s a relay! She then passes on the sorrow to some unsuspecting soul loitering near the bathrooms. For the sake of ignorant readers: Black sorrow is when you spot a single, big, jet-black crow. The intelligentsia at HAC believed it to bring bad luck upon them. Disaster management cells in our brains go hyperactive to restore peace, especially if it’s an exam day.

EXAMS!!! How can I forget them?! Of course, I eternally failed to remember what I learnt.
But, forgetting an exam itself? No, never. An exam day is a period of ephemeral camaraderie.
The P.T. ground transforms into mushroom patches - a cluster here, a cluster there of girls trying desperately to flank the most brilliant students. They sit so close that it almost becomes infringement of private space…literally on the other person’s laps! Phew! Now, if you thought that the girls made such a dash to gain knowledge from the top scorers, then you are undoubtedly mistaken. The hysterical rush is just to find out: “How much did you learn pa?”,
“Finished memorizing the booka pa?”, “Centum right this time also?” Sigh!!!!!!!!!!!!

The most irrelevant of questions when one is hard-pressed for time! Name it jealousy, envy, yearning…etc, etc…it happens, but it still is the best part of school life, I would say. A kaleidoscope of emotions that exams evoked! Fun, frolic and fear…all go hand in hand with exams.

Ok. Now, exams are over. What next? Results! Hmmmm….I am leaving it out in MCQ. Cos certain things are better when left unsaid. So, that brings us to - Excursion!

Two places in Chennai, which HAC had ‘leased’ for annual visits: Planetarium and Crocodile Bank. Look up at the sky or look down at green monsters: Wah, kya choices hai! The situation was similar to crop rotation: first year P, second year CB, third year P and fourth year, CB once again. This story continued till XI grade. No, wait…XII grade. Hold on…think it’s XI. OMG!!! (Amnesia waiting at my doorstep). Anyway, our first overnight, outstation trip was eventually planned. ENSOIMENT, in a word. Says it all. Colorful days, those were!

Speaking of colors, Assunta (yellow), Hermine (Green), Teresalina (Red) and School (blue)…were the four houses/teams at HAC. It nurtured a sense of belonging in us…so much that we ended up in a verbal one-upmanship: which house is the best? Assunta stood for Sun, Hermine for plants, Teresalina for blood and School equated with water. And Ms.V of 8th grade was the judge for this pattimandram (debate). After hearing the arguments, she reserved judgment…till date!

While staying on the chapter- Silliness at School, I would like to chroncile here other idiosyncrasies too. LOC! Not just an issue between Pakistan and India. But between my benchmate and me too. Take a pointed compass. Darrrrrrrrrrrr. One streak right in the middle of the table. Yes, boundaries were defined: “Idhu en area, ulla varadhe.” If, accidentally, a pencil, or an eraser of my friend’s crossed the line, I go hysterical. B.P. shoots up. Palpitations. Swelling face. I stop paying attention to the teacher. My eyes are all set on the infiltration. Angry whispers: “Your pencil is on my side. Move it right now.” Once she obeys, calm descends.

If you just began to admire my sense of discipline, I urge you to stop right away. For none can outdo me at the following: late attendance promptly filled in, sick leave pages constantly run out, shoes perpetually unpolished…and the list goes on!

Guess, I was ‘possessed’ while in school. Why would n’t I be, going by the number of ghost stories that did the rounds then!!! The skeleton in the Physics lab was invariably the hero. Now, don’t ask me why a ‘hero’ and not a ‘heroine’. I really don’t want to get into Anatomy at this moment.
So, switching back to our hero…he was the son of a wealthy businessman and he committed suicide because of Rich-boy, Poor-girl love failure. OMG!!!

Let me pause for a few seconds…

… am back. I just went to bang my head against the wall…for…err…you know better now!

Thanks to these stories, my nights are still shrouded in terror. Inevitably, even now I don’t and can’t sleep alone. No pun intended. :)

Thus, my friends, whatever the memories, be it joy, happiness, sadness, disappointments…
a school is forever our second home. Cherish it and remember: Towards Charity by Truth.