Great-grand-mother and her ancestral home!

Childhood memories are strong. Though this essay goes back to the 1970s, the images have not faded one bit. It was a trip to see great-grand-mother in her village!

Mudikondan is a tiny hamlet, a dot in the Tamil Nadu map, not far from the Nagapatnam coast. So nondescript is the place, that as per accounts, it once had a railway station of its own, that was later dismantled because there was no traffic!

It was here that great-grand-mother lived by herself. If she was old, she stayed in a home that was older. Shrouded by the cobwebs of time, it went back a few centuries, perhaps more.

I recall the street where great-grand-mother lived. It was dusty, with houses on either side, like modern-day row-houses. The house was old-styled. Once inside, the main hall had a quadrangle that opened to the sky and lined with pillars. The quadrangle was spacious, with ample room for a full-blown tree. For my Mumbai, city-grown eyes, it was a novelty- to have a tree inside a house!

Photographs crammed the interior wall, leaving not an inch of space! Everyone was there- grand-fathers and mothers, grand-uncles and aunts, down to the latest generation. People in their earlier avatars, set in the 1930s and 40s looked young and fashionable! Each photograph was amusing- either the serious expression or the quaint dress.

The main hall had a swing that creaked as you foot-pedaled it. The door that led to the kitchen was shallow. Many an unwary person got a bump on the head, if he did not duck at the right time!

An old “almirah” was filled with artefacts including one giant, elephant-replica. I fussed about till the elephant was brought out from the closet. The elephant’s foot was known to have a hair-line fracture! My father had broken it when he was a child! Everything was preserved through the decades- the story as well as the elephant.

Great-grand-mother was bent with age. She was active and spritely on her feet. Her skin was crinkly and the elbows jutted out. Her eyes were alert as she peered through the spectacles. Her toothless laughter was infectious- it shook her entire frame! Soon, more relatives gathered. The house was filled with the hub-hub of conversation and the gurgle of laughter. We were in time for the annual village festival.

After great-grand-mother’s time, the house fell into disuse and was sold off. We never went back again. Time is relentless, much like the ocean’s waves. As the tide comes in, the wave sweeps over the elaborate sand-castle built with care. The people, their voices and stories become one with the ocean. Mudikondan remains a memory.

Corporate idioms!

In today’s corporate world, it has become common to work with teams spread across different geographies. With it, comes the challenge to communicate effectively. Workers in the US have a certain style of talking laced with figurative phrases. It creates comical situations as we relate to these idioms rooted in our own cultural moorings.

 A common American phrase is “let’s first knock off the low hanging fruits!” The intent is clear- when you have a large number of tasks to be completed, take care of the easier ones first. An Indian mind is wired differently. The moment you hear “low hanging fruits”, you immediately drift off. All sorts of fruits crowd the mind- juicy mangoes, tasty jack-fruits, tantalizing grapes and succulent guavas! You wonder which fruit this American team-leader has in mind. You feel like reminding him of a counterpoint- if the fruit is a coconut, the lowest fruit would be quite high! Wrapped in your world of fruits, the rest of the meeting is a blur.

 Another casually used American idiom is “you don’t have to boil the ocean” to do this task- there are simpler ways. The phrase yanks you away from reality. Mythical stories like the churning of the ocean gatecrash into the mind as you imagine the gigantic proportions of the burner and the vessel! “You do not want to reward diving catches alone” is a Baseball idiom. The corporate message is that an inconspicuous worker should be recognized as much as someone who steals the show. “Diving catches” is too tempting for a Cricket enthusiast. The mind takes you on a dream-ride of diving catches- from the days of Eknath Solkar to present-day Jadeja. Reality strikes when you are jolted from your reverie with a pointed question at the meeting, “Can you take that as your AI?”  

From the context, you understand some phrases. “You earn brownie points” when you volunteer to do some service that will help you at a later date. “The code is like spaghetti” is when the computer program is too confusing. “To pick someone’s brain” is to get an expert’s opinion. When something bothers you at work, you express it with the phrase “what gives me sleepless nights is...” To ensure something “does not fall through the cracks” is to pay attention to detail. And then, there are phrases you just cannot comprehend- “If push comes to shove, let’s do this!”

At the end of the meeting, the team-leader asks you in his cheery, accented voice, “Buddy! Just hang in there! You’re a happy camper?” You don’t know what he is saying and how to respond. The silence is awkward. You incoherently mumble, “I am happy”. Mercifully, the meeting comes to a close!

 

Tea and its many avatars!

Having a cup of tea at an upscale restaurant follows a protocol. You place the order and carry on with the conversation. One topic leads to another till you exhaust all topics. The tea is nowhere in sight. It is as if you are marooned on an island and forgotten. After an eternity, your tea arrives.

 The bearer is nattily dressed. His tray carries a porcelain tea-pot, a milk jug, slick cups and sachets of sugar. With finesse, he places each item on the table. After the cursory, “Do you need anything more sir?” he leaves you to make your cup of tea. With patience at tipping point, you take added care- lest you fumble and send the tea-pot crashing to the floor! The tea is now ready; you hold the cup with a certain poise and elan! A classy place requires a matching tea-etiquette! You like your tea piping-hot. This beverage is the opposite- damp and lukewarm. Half the cup and you give up. You pay for the tea and several times more for the ambience- with its mellow lighting and piped music.  

The highway tea-joint is in sharp contrast. It is a popular destination for all outstation buses. The place bustles with people. You observe tea served at the adjoining table. The crockery is basic- a utilitarian cup and a saucer to go with it. He deftly pours the tea into the saucer. Steam wafts off the saucer as he raises the saucer to the lips. Each audible slurp is followed by a clearing of the throat- it is evident the tea is strong and laced with ginger! As he laps the last bit off the saucer, satisfaction is writ large on the face!

There are others who cannot have tea in isolation. A packet of biscuit has to go with the tea. Before you bite the biscuit off, you get it to a soft consistency by dipping it in the hot tea! Alertness is of essence- for a little more in the tea and you are left with a biscuit stub! Rest of the time is spent fishing out the biscuit debris with a second biscuit. Soon, you have lost both- the fish and the fishing rod! In the end, you gulp the concoction in whole- a mix of tea, biscuit and a lot more!

“Matka-chai” is a delightful tea variant. The tiny clay-pot has no handle and is palmed in the hand. In addition to being bio-degradable, it has an earthy fragrance and taste. And with a dash of cardamom, matka-chai is in a league of its own!

Tea remaining the same, such variety in preparation, crockery, style, taste and ambience!  

Station names!

 Back then, there were no Self-Help books to tutor you on “speed-reading” techniques. You learnt to read quickly through a simpler method- by reading the names of stations as the train sped by! With elbows anchored on the train’s window-sill, forehead pressed to the window-bar, you had just a few seconds to read the station’s name. And if you had an elder sister on the adjoining window seat, it made for healthy and at times, ugly competition! 

The erstwhile Bombay to Madras rail route was filled with station names that were a mouthful! You grandly announced- “Yeraguntla” and “Tadipatri”, “Guntakal” and “Hadapsar” as the trains whizzed past them. Till the mid-1980s, the station boards had stayed unchanged for well over a century. You could faintly pick anglicized names like “Poona” and “Dhond” over which the new coat of paint had the revised spellings as “Pune” and “Daund”.

It was as if a mysterious world existed behind these stations you would never know. As you traveled through the Western Ghats, you wondered how “Monkey Hill” got its name! When it came to “Hotgi” and “Chiksugar”, it was as though they concealed a culinary past! 

Of particular interest was the station “Gooty”. You felt goofy to imagine that Gooty’s brother was perhaps Ooty! There were stations that had a special mention on their boards that announced- “Alight here to visit this ancient shrine”. You wondered if this advertisement had compelled a passenger to make a life changing decision to suddenly disembark from the train to explore these exotic places.

No station did you look forward to more than this one- “Venkatanarasimharajuvaripeta” in Andhra Pradesh. How could a station have such a big name? Imagination ran riot- how the sign-board artist had written half the name and fretted when he found no room to fit the rest! And how a tourist from outside India would stumble over the name, getting to “ven-kata” and thereafter, throwing his hands up in despair! 

A particularly delightful stretch was the one from Arakkonam to erstwhile Madras Central. On most occasions, the train was late by the time it hit this corridor. Like the proverbial hare-and-tortoise tale, the engine woke up from slumber and showed a sudden intent to make up for lost time. As the train raced away, it kicked up a cloud of dust over which you read the polysyllabic names- Tiruvallur and Villivakkam, Perambur and Ambattur. Just before Madras Central, came “Basin Bridge”- with its quaint English sounding name. 

They ask “What’s in a name?” But in the final analysis, we are left with just these names and through them connect to a distant past filled with fond memories!