Joint versus Nuclear

Disclaimer: This is not a post that draws up a debate on joint versus nuclear family; it is purely about my experience of growing up in a joint family and then moving onto a nuclear family.

4 months-14 years, that’s the tenure of my stint with the joint family. I know not how the other families functioned, ours was an orthodox, Palakkad Iyer joint family, trying to get ends to meet, coping up with rising prices, et al. That was part of the game; it taught us all how to be responsible and was a true test to be able to survive under any financial circumstance. Not once have I felt sorry about my situation, for there were people going through tougher times.

I have no siblings, that means lot of space and freedom for me; yet was put to the test of sharing, for obvious reasons. When you are used to growing up in a certain familial condition, you would be fully wary of every nuance; adapting to changes, would just be second nature then. On the contrary, if you are given all the space and freedom and did not have to be bothered about anything that was concerning, and then moved back to an orthodox joint family, you sure are to see the Pandora’s box opening up!

Having said this, I certainly have not had a bed of roses during my childhood, I learnt quite early,”Nay! The roses had thorns too!” While the rose was the protective shade of grandparents, the thorn was the constant restriction as a child to do things I wanted. Sure, I did not once feel sorry about what I had to go through; it was a learning experience, free of cost!

I could not cuddle up with mom or dad as a child whenever I wanted; for they were too busy going about their daily chores. That did not really matter to me, neither did I go into a study about other families. This is how it shall be, I had to constantly tell myself. Luckily, I had books and grandparents for company. Today, I’ve grown up to embrace solitude as a rare gem, I keep saying this in most of my posts, thanks to the early learning lessons. We, as a joint family, witnessed the chronological growth of inventions coming to our family! First Mr.Graham Bell, followed by Mr.Baird, et al...! It was an overwhelming experience when I first spoke through the telephone at our Madras home, a pistachio green coloured land phone whose number I shall never forget, 6427227! Talking about the television that occupied a stand in the center of the hall, it always remained elusive, thanks to the strict upbringing. TV-viewing was restricted to watching a daily news bulletin, and perhaps Mahabharata on Sundays. Once the program was over, the crowd would disperse from the hall, we would not crib about the TV being switched off, we would only happily return to our daily routine. The advent of the cable TV network made no difference either; for I was already adapted to a certain style of TV-viewing and would not crave for anything more. Unlike most homes where the parents decide to plug out the cable network whilst examinations, mine did not have to resort to any!

The orthodox Palakkad Iyer family meant chanting a lot of shlokas and abiding by various customs and rituals; including staying out of touch, sometimes sight,during menstruation. I still recall days when I stood out with a stainless steel cup and saucer for my filter coffee! Learn to adapt, is what I had to constantly keep telling myself. These were practical learning lessons which make for some good prose to be written today! If there is any reason I have been able to memorize and still remember most of the Vishnu Sahasranama, it has to be because of the constant chanting that used to happen at the backdrop; it automatically gets into your subconscious, helping it linger forever. Thanks to my uncle, whom I fondly address as periappa, I am rooted to my shlokas, to a large extent despite having moved out of the joint family. Imagine being rocked to sleep with the likes of “Achutham Keshavam, Rama Narayanam..”, that’s how obsessed the family was to all the shlokas and verses!

What  I have lost in the bargain though, is witnessing the glorious days of the Indian cinema back in the 80’s and early 90’s. I was way behind in terms of my repertoire of the retro music that raked the moolah back then! Of course, as a child I did not crib about it, yet now feel at a heavy loss. Nonetheless, music per se has no boundaries and limitations. Regardless of what I had missed to see and hear in the past, I have my trusted transistor, covering up for the loss.

When I moved out of the joint family in early 2000, it was quite a liberating experience. To say the least, I had easy access to my parents; they were for ME, and had no sibling or cousin to be shared with! In the retrospective, when I ponder over these life events, it is a wonderful feeling of having had a seasoned cocktail, absolutely just the right concoction.