The death of a vintage pal

Huge, heavy, cumbersome, yet your own, your very own, not open for any public display, is thus a new entrant in life. The pioneer of the originally talking-only instrument had made it even more popular and the country saw this yet-to-go-virtual pal in the palms of most of the people who could afford anything more than a land-phone. I am certainly not here to track the evolution of a cellular phone, we have established websites to cater to the facts. However, delving into its psychological and emotional effect is a worthwhile experience. When I received my first debit card from my first employer, when I was barely 18, I obviously was thrilled to bits and felt on-top-of-the-world. It was on the first day of the new year day 2003 that a UTI bank(Now Axis) debit card was sent to my home. It bore my name- Usha Ramani in it and as a quick act of impulse, I surrendered the envelope in the Lord’s feet, and produced it to my parents with glee. I felt empowered and had the purchasing power hat on! This episode happened in Kochi, Ernakulam hence I must say that the world of mobile was only catching up. The humble Nokia was in the foray and as per my experience and observation back then, I inferred that some of the elite in the society owned a mobile. Considering the fact that I am from a lower middle-class family back then, now graduated to middle-class, the chances of owning the humble yet charming Nokia was bleak. Loads of coaxing, cajoling and convincing had to go into my parents’ head for them to say yes to my newfound fantasy. I wanted to own a ‘mobile’ too, reason, I had a cushion called luxury through the hat of purchasing power that I was newly donning. Also as I was studying and working simultaneously, I made my parents understand that I need to own a cellular phone so that I could let them know where I was and when I’d be back home et al. You see the purpose was very simple; I did not even realise that the phone had another feature, texting! Anyway, my supportive parents were somehow convinced that their 18 year old needs a cellular phone. I thus embarked my journey into the world of mobile phones. A good friend of mine, who knew something about mobile phones took me to a shop that sold second-hand mobile phones and after some haggling done by him, we settled for a reasonable price(though a heavy one for me in those days, it still is) of rupees 3300 for a basic model of Nokia 3310, dark blue in colour. This was my new toy, my world, my everything; what more could a teenager have asked for? Of course, this phone saw me maturing through the years, it served me for a good 6 years, being that bosom pal of mine throughout. I never once felt the need to change my phone, although mobile phones had gained more popularity and we had newer models entering the cellular phone market. At the end of the phone’s 6th birthday, it began throwing its tantrums and kept losing its battery power. After all, this second-hand mobile phone had weathered through all the wear and tear in all these years. Of all the phones that I have owned through these years, the 3310 would ever remain close to my heart for reasons of firsts (though the phone itself was a second-hand one); it was my first phone, something that I bought out of my first salary and the first friend to have seen me mature quite closely through the years. I am glad that even as I take time to describe this simple pal of mine today, I have the pal sitting right next to me, though lifeless; somehow, I can never cremate this pal of mine. The 29th birthday of mine, saw me foraying into the Android man’s world, thanks to my husband for having opened the gateway of technology and social world. Though late, when compared to my peers, I feel it was done at the right time for me as an individual. The android is now my new toy, for a little over 5 months, and the experience is indeed pleasurable. Needless to say, the features of this phone I am still learning, everyday, after all there is a lot more than texting and calling! I would still bear the humble beginning in mind, whilst I tread past the greener pastures of the android lover-boy!

Hari Sree Maha Ganapathaye Namaha

I so much wanted to at least begin writing this piece before this special day, Vijayadasami ends. Thanks to the Lord that I have been able to get hold of the keyboard and begin writing! Vijayadasami day has always been close to my heart , true to its significance, removing the darkness of ignorance and ushering in the light of knowledge, quite categorically, the essence of the Bhagvad Gita. Having been born into  in an orthodox Kerala-brahm family, we had all the rituals and traditions kept intact followed till the last word; which as a child, I did not quite comprehend in its quintessence, but of course with age and maturity, I only grew up to realize that I have been blessed.

This day Vijayadasami to me is a celebration of knowledge and empowerment. The books, pens and sruthi box that go into the Pooja are symbolic representations of surrendering anything you are learning to the Godess of Knowledge, Saraswathi Devi. The books are then taken out from the Pooja, this is followed by writing on a platter of rice, again, Annapoorna Devi. Somehow, though the books that I keep in the Pooja have almost always been in English, when I am handed over the platter of rice to write a few letters, marking the beginning of a new year, for the year’s blessing,  I automatically begin writing in the vernacular, Hindi was my second language back in school. Each time, till date, when I hold the platter of rice to write, I experience child-like delight, reminding myself that I am an eternal student. Learning never ends, for it never can. Everything else could be completed; a course for instance but its constant application, is a learning experience in itself.

This year as well, that is today, I had my neatly bound good old Oxford dictionary, the ubiquitous Wren and Martin, sruthi box, a black ball-point Cross pen which was gifted by my American client at work, a few other additions and of course the Bhagvad Gita, of which we are all eternal students, part of the Pooja. Elders at home always encouraged us to study or write something from the chapters of the books that went into the Pooja; we always started, still do with Hari Sree Maha Ganapathaye Namaha. I thus began with the Ganesha mantra and end with this piece Hari Sree Maha Ganapathaye Namaha.

Through the trusted transistor:-

A certain gloom that looms large
A cloud so thick that it needs a downpour
Lilting notes keep haunting me
As though they are out on a mission
The friendly transistor never lets me down
It keeps presenting me with surprises
I may have easy access to them on my phone
There is an inexplicable element of surprise though!
Songs whose movies I have never watched
I am sure that is no criterion for the music to be enjoyed
Raja Sir's charm would do no harm
I feel am in a loved one's arm
The music is such a balm, so soothing
Madness,  craziness whatever I may want to call it
The transistor has always been a friend in need
Demystifying everything that seems complicated
Hours of work seem fun and become the I-want-to-do-more-of-it kind
I hate to see its battery die
The waves from the sky
Transmit pleasure which knows no bounds
Oh this bosom pal of mine
Serves for some good learning too
Of Carnatic and raja sir
The blend to me is a melodious concoction
Like Orsino's opening dialogue in Twelfth  Night,
Music is the food of love, for it makes me forget
Hunger pangs are never a problem
For music is food, and makes me forget
Sans a regret

Recognition & Acceptance

Writing is a liberating act in itself and it gives a great sense of gratification once you finish penning down whatever that strikes your mind. Thanks to the world of blog that I am able to add wings to my dream. Back in school days, as we flipped through the pages of Wren and Martin for  our dosage on Grammar and Composition, I would spend long hours contemplating whether  I would ever be able to get over the Precis and Letter Writing! The language always met high standards and we always had to resort to a Thesaurus and Dictionary. Since Precis Writing had more to do with a manual counting of the number of words in the passage given, (given that there were no computers for us to automatically count the number of words; unlike now, wherein as I type out I have the luxury of checking the number of words I have utilised, it is now at 159), I used to wonder that the passage in itself is long and the length of the passage is mostly justified as I always thought no words had to be eliminated as they suited the passage best! Today, I read through the book at leisure, with a great sense of pride,  thanks to the rigorous exercises that we were given then, they are absolutely rewarding. The lessons from the good old Wren and Martin come alive when I sit down for penning down something. The concepts taught back then have been cemented firmly that their application comes naturally.

Anyway, today, is a day, that I am happy about, and is really worth a mention, off the chapters of my life. It has been my childhood dream of writing a piece for South India’s largest selling national daily, The Hindu. Today, 6^th Oct 2013, saw this dream coming true. Thanks to the humble Editor at the offices of The Hindu, he considered my article, print-worthy. I cannot contain my excitement, it feels fabulous to have my name fully printed against a few words that I had penned! I had taken to Scrap Booking since 2012, and have been collecting all articles of my interest from The Hindu. Now, I have an addition to my collection, my very own! I had got two copies of the newspaper today, one for my scrapbook and one for any relative or friend whom I could share the article with, although I have the option of going online for the link. The bottom of the article had the words, “the writer’s email id is...” This gives me a great sense of acceptance and recognition; which is why I chose to write about writing!

My blog is a personal virtual forum where I can rant about anything I want, I always check for the number of page views, although the number is meager. The most rewarding moment after writing is, to feel accepted and recognized. Comments both virtual and real are motivating and are a driving force that keep the spark kindled in me. This also calls for more responsibility of course, after all, writing is a process and not a conclusive act. While having the article you have written published in a newspaper is an achievement of sorts, blogging is a liberating experience, because it gives me the freedom of voicing out anything I want, just anything, with no targets to meet! This day, 6^th Oct’13 has made me feel accepted and recognized as a writer, and has brought in an adrenaline rush, whilst I usher into the world as a ‘writer.’

Gung Ho- Navarathri Golu!

“Hi Usha, it’s the Navarathri season again, and I can never forget the golu at your home years ago, so much fun it used to be; “ said a friend of mine earlier this week.  I was reminded  of the lovely times we used to have back in our school days. Of course we had our holidays, and that was great reason to feel happy and the other was house-hopping, to see the ‘golu’ arrangement in various homes of both relatives and neighbours. As back-presents we used to carry home, a small packet of ‘sundal’ or a set of bangles or may be just the traditonal‘vethilai pakku’ (containing a couple of beetel leaves with some beetel nuts) with a banana or two. Whatever we got from different homes were special to us and used to safely deposit them back home or just eat them up on our way back. We were asked to sing a song or two which was a form of worship in itself. As kids we did not have any problem at all doing so and were just inhibitionless. Even the ‘golu’ back then used to be very simple yet high in tradition and culture. At no point did we ever miss out on getting our daily dose of culture and tradition, thanks to the grandparents at home. The dolls would vary from the dasavatharam set, to the chettiar dolls (the traditional businessmen), wooden dolls(marapachi), and of course the likes of Ganesha, Krishna, and some members of the divine fraternity. As an additional entertainer for kids, we used to have a small make-shift park set up on the floor onto the sides of the golu padi(stand). This park was easily made with some sand and sprouts, the latter added to the greenery of the artificial park! We would have a cow in plastic grazing on this newly ‘sprouted’ field; paying tribute to the cattle and agriculture since the dolls are primarily made of clay, so the demand for clay was on the rise during this time. Our golu used to be simple and most of the houses we visited were just variations within this ambit, perhaps with a few dolls extra or lesser albeit, times were still simple.

Things have changed quite drastically these days though; the basics of culture and tradition is still intact in terms of the types of dolls featuring in the golu stands of various homes. We still have the classic chettiar dolls and the humble marapachi dolls and the likes of Ganesha and Krishna and the entire divine fraternity. Nonetheless, golu has come to exist more as a show of tradition rather than tradition and culture being upheld. Back then, we only used to safely wrap these dolls in some unused muslin or sari to prevent breakage and safely put them in the attic so that they could be used for the next year; occassionally, a few dolls got added over the years. Not once did we get bored with the collection, we were only proud of our inventory of dolls and used to eagerly await their display on our golu stand for the year.

With changing times of course, as in every other field, we have new dolls entering the display market each year. The North Mada street in Mylapore stands testimony to this. Come Navarathri, this street in particular becomes a hub of Gods and Godesses on sale! It is definitely worth paying a visit to this street during this time of the year, if not to buy, at least to visually treat youurself with an array of dolls throughout the entire stretch. Dolls though are expensive unlike before, of course due ot the rise in public demand. Golu has become more of a showbiz and perpetuates competition amongst households. The old world charm is lost, with Shiva or Krishna assuming newer looks. The colours used are quite dashing too as against their counterparts of the past. With golu no longer being restricted to a few odd-numbered steps, the variety is diverse and we even have thematic representations of the Gods and Godesses. Eg., One household may have an exclusive Ganesha theme or Krishna theme, et al. Of course, when these dolls have become slightly richer, the takeways we get have assumed a new status too. Gone are the days of humble packets of sundal and banana. They are now one among the many back-presents that we could add to our kitty. It has become more of a social status these days to flaunt these dolls on display and to give away expensive gifts to the visitors. What one fails to understand though is, regardless of countless designs and models of the Gods and Godesses, the Navarathri Golu season is more of a bonhomie of sorts rather than a mere display of clay and colours.