Aham Vyaktam

I was waiting for the bus to get to my home from a shopping mall. There came the bus and after boarding it, I noticed the bus filled with adolescents probably of age 13. May be the bus came from a place populated with schools and it was off-school time in the evening. I didn’t have a seat to sit and my back pack was straining my shoulders. The bus was filled with pandemonium and I heard here and there “I am czhazy over that cazh (the slang of replacing “r” with “zh” sound :) ), you know its jus awesome”, “can you take your fxxking hands off my shoulders”, “Oh my Gaud, that class reelly reelly sucked” (you would have known its “oh my god, that class really really sucked”), etc. I have the habit of observing the people around me and those kids were really a feast. There was a gang sitting in front of me and I started watching what they do.

Everyone was in hunky-funky dresses, a girl wearing her spaghetti over her long sleeved tshirt and a guy wearing his jean not on his waist but almost on his knees. He had tried hard to make it stick to his thighs with a belt. I pity that belt. In that age, I knew no dress other than my uniform and got reminded of those days wherein I was not allowed to attend the prayer just because my socks wasn’t tidy.

A kid picked up a make-up kit from her bag and started patching up her eye shadows and lipstick. I was getting reminded of the days when I was in the 8th grade and I wasn’t even knowing there was something called a fairness cream existing. Whatever mom did to me was the so-called make-up for me. Never really bothered if my tie knot was proper or my shoe was properly buckled or the powder was overdone on face or the flower on my head was looking odd like a headlight.

A kid was making hip-hop moves as she was listening to some song over her mobile. I wasn’t even having a landline phone at home when I was a kid. Why that? I remember the cable tv connection being given when I entered college. Another kid was doing something with his PDA. I remember writing the class periods in a timetable sheet and sticking it at my home.

I saw a girl asking a guy “can you take your hands off my shoulders?” The guy asked “Why?”. The girl replied “coz you are a gay and I hate you”. My jaw dropped on hearing this. They speak about homosexuals. Did I even know at that age that the opposite sexes attract each other?

The bus halted at a stop and a lady got in. She came and stood beside me. She was wearing a thick spectacle and a teeth clip. The girls in front of us started passing comments and were chortling within themselves. Though the comments were private, it was very evident from their gestures that they were about this lady. I never dared to comment on anyone and had always thought twice before lampooning the best of the best friends even.

One was sloppily throwing the books here and there. I was thinking “may be he is too ingenious that he completed studying it and its no more required”. How much importance have we given to our books? If anyone makes a dog-ear in my book, he/she is gone.

I sensed something repeatedly hitting my legs from behind (I was standing with the support of a pole) and turned back to see what it was. There was a guy sitting in the seat behind me and was swinging his legs back and forth, hitting me every time. I expected him to say sorry when I looked at him but I got just a nonchalant expression in return. Giving him a cold stare, I moved aside. I would have sought pardon thousand times had I been in that position as a kid.

I don’t mean to say the people in our generation were all subservient and they were stainless. We had also been relentless when we were kids but I feel we always had a sense of reverence and fear in whatever we did.

I might get a comment “you are a fruit, may be you should learn taking these light”. or I might get a comment “you are no miss.perfect, to speak about these”. I don’t mind as I wasn’t that bad a fruit or that bad a rogue.

I admit that the kids of today are far matured and they know a lot at early ages, they are given a lot of exposure, which is apparent. But the kids of today being lackadaisical about their demeanor cannot be left tacit.

Whatever it is, I got reminded of my childhood and adolescence on seeing them and I wish there was a way to go back to those times. There had been days where I was happy on hearing the age of heroines, being proud that I was younger than them. Now, the thought that all the new faces are at least a year younger than me really sucks. Sounds silly eh. Am a girl after all.

My rants were distracted by the talk of the bus driver. He and a passenger were talking to each other. When I started listening to them, I was smiling to myself as they were speaking about the kids too. The driver was expressing his concern that the kids of today hold no respect for elders, for studies, etc.

Now comes the interesting part (of course for me).

My involvement was hindered by a joggle of the bus and it was my stop. When I said a thank you to the driver while getting off, he said “you are welcome. Study well kid. You gotta get a nice job alright. Pay respect to everyone”. I was really happy on hearing this and told him “thanks a lot, but I would like to tell you that I am not studying but working in a reputed concern”. He said “you gotta be kidding”. I said “I wish I really was kidding” and started walking towards my home with a cheerful thought that I look young.

On my way home, I got reminded of one more instance which happened 6 months back.
I was in Aliso Viejo and I was walking towards my office. On my way was a school zone and there was a volunteer directing the traffic of kids and the cars in a T-intersection as it was peak hour. I was walking at a greater pace as I was late and wanted to cross the intersection. I guess I gave the impression to the volunteer that I wouldn’t wait for her direction. On seeing me approaching the intersection, she said “wait wait, cars first, kids next”. Hurrah!!!!!! You should have seen my face then. I was trying to keep it as innocuous as a kid to stand up to her words. ROFL.

I wish my mom doesn’t read this. If she does, then the 2 apples, badams, cashews, date fruits (what not) which she says she would give me daily when I go there, would become 10 each. :(

Woops!!!!

One of the most important days in my life just passed by. It was my engagement. The engagement was to take place at Chennai. My marriage is the most awaited as am the only girl child for entire family and as it’s the first marriage in the immediate generation after my dad’s that’s gonna happen. My dad wanted to ask me before doing anything (I am the only child for my parents) but I wasn’t within his reach. The mode of information transfer between us had been gtalk, that too during weekends [kudos daddy…there are only a hand full of fathers who have explored chatting, browsing and orkutting and am proud you are one such]. I gotta tell you all an instance [I don’t mind deviating for telling something about my role model] that happened a few months back. Dad wanted to send some photos to me and he was asking me the best way to do it. I just told him he can upload them in picasa and went to see the dish that was cooking. When I went back to chat after 5 mins, and told my dad that I’ll direct him how to upload the photos, he coolly said “check your mail. I have sent the album link”. I got apoplexic when he said “I have put the album under unlisted and have shared the link. You can download the album. I don’t wanna go public”. I wasn’t able to say anything other than “Dad!! You drive me crazy”.

Ok back now.

Me and my fiancé are in USA and we were not in a position to go for our engagement. When I told this to my friends, some said “What? That is weird!”, some other said “You gotta be kidding”, “Is it a love marriage?” and the guy who tried to woo me asked “Are you trying to play some prank or something?”. I was tired telling “people!!! Its an arranged marriage, we are not able to make it to the engagement and that’s all about it”. They really instilled a feel in me “is the engagement without both the bride and the groom that weird?”.

Sunday 3PM was the engagement in India, which was Saturday 1.30AM midnight for me. On Sunday morning, parents and all my other relatives were getting ready to go to the venue. I gave them a call to know what was happening. Mom said she wanted to see me before the engagement and asked me to show myself up in the webcam. So did I [did I tell you this was the first time they are seeing me live in a cam?]. They also had a cam. The moment my dad saw me in the cam, he said “you are not Anu. Go call my daughter”. He claimed I have changed a lot and it was hard for him to relate the webcam face to that of his daughter’s when she left India. Somewhere in the corner of my heart a murky pain struck me – Has my dad forgotten my face? Well, he cannot be blamed, I had/do shown/show a huge metamorphosis in my appearance. It’s close to a year since he saw me and it’s enough time for metamorphosis.

My mom on seeing me shed tears and was showering an array of flying kisses - typical of a mother. Everybody was showing all the things they are gonna display and they were telling it’s gonna be really a grandeur. Oh, how much I missed the occasion!!!! I very much wanted to see what my dad had done for my engagement.

I was very restless here, it was midnight for me. I very much wanted to be there in the venue, to see the rituals. The bride and the groom’s parents would be the center of attraction for this ceremony and I wanted to see how my parents presented themselves.
I gave my aunt a call at 2AM my time, thinking that atleast the hymns would fall in my ears. My aunt picked my call up and said “Hi Anu. Your engagement is going on very well. We are right now very busy. Can you call us after half-an-hour?” I was yelling “Come on guys!!!! It’s my engagement, it’s the bride who is calling up. You are asking me to call later? That’s overmuch”. No response from the other end. My aunt had hung up long before. I was blaming my fate.

It was 2.30AM for me and was lying sleepless on my bed, pretty sure of my fiancé being half-way through a snoring sleep in his home by then. Then I called up my uncle and thankfully, he said I shall be on line listening to the hymns they chant and he was also giving a running commentary about what was happening.

After the engagement, everybody out there was jostling to speak with me and I had to give a word or two to everyone. Uff..finally I gained attention. Everybody said the function went on great. Dad and mom gave the usual cries expressing their agony that everybody was there except the two of us. Mom was describing about the saree my to-be-in-laws have bought for me – typical of a woman. Dad said they have written over the sugar crystals, my fiance's name with gems chocolate and my name with jeera mithai as analogous to our body weights :) He was also telling they have proved that they are from Erode by displaying the mysore paks in a huge silver thookku, like how an authentic Erode community would do. I dunno what all humors my dad let out. I missed them.

I felt very nostalgic when I heard the chitchats of people. I was just able to hear the festive mood but I wasn’t able to feel it. My dad fuelled my pain by telling “you will be Miss. Muralitharan no more, my child”. It was too much for me to swallow and my eyes swelled up. Threatening my lachrymal glands that they should spare enough tears for the marriage, I hung up.

There was a party here in USA thrown by his relatives to celebrate our engagement and it was a bit consoling. But needless to say that it’s no compensation to being with all the people from both the sides swarming around you. My engagement was just virtual to me. I hope I would have fun on my marriage.