My friend's blog set me thinking, as all her blogs do. She is truly a thinking woman's blogger.('woman' here stands for all of mankind,just like 'No man is an island').
Well, my marriage has lasted forty stormy years, and I do feel I am eligible to dispense words of wisdom.Ofcourse, you might say, ' It is not growing like a tree, In bulk doth make Man better be' etc. nevertheless I shall proceed.

The first thing to remember is that togetherness is highly pernicious to a marriage.It would be ideal if one spouse is a night owl, and the other an early bird.The less time you spend together, the longer the marriage will last. (just like King Vikramaditya's' kaadaru maasam ,Naadaru maasam') My husband and I have an ideal arrangement.He goes for a walk, after I return.He sleeps when I finish my afternoon nap. In the evenings, he goes for music concerts, I am busy with tuition.As the day ends, he watches tamil serials, I watch Hindi serials.It is imperative for a good marriage to have as many TV sets as possible.Channel selection has been the reason cited for so many divorces.

It would ofcourse be ideal to have pre-nup agreements on major issues. But in India this would have the man running helter-skelter out of the engagement. There is sure to be a great aunt lurking somewhere who is sure to say"My God! what kind of girl asks for this?".

This would be ideal, because it is never the big issues that cause rifts in a marriage. "Is Barrack Obama a good president?, Should Jaswant Singh be expelled from the BJP?", these things don't break up a marriage.It is the little things that do.
What are the little things? When I was a newly wed, Bangalore was a heaven on earth. Winters were very chilly. Our bedroom had , believe me, six windows.My husband used to open all six, and have the fan on, full blast. He never noticed that I was freezing .By morning, I would be an icicle. I had to stand near the 'venneer anda'(water boiler) for half an hour to thaw.Those were the days when parents were not so sympathetic.When I went to my 'maika' I complained to my father about this.He listened to me patiently and I was delighted. He got up thoughtfully, and I was sure he was going to call up my husband.Those days it was not so easy to make long distance calls.We had to call up trunk booking and the operator would answer only if she wanted to.She would say "Yes Moddom, I will call you back". If you were lucky, the call would come through by next week. My father was gone a long time, and I was a little puzzled. Then he came in and thrust a package at me. I opened the packet and found two extra thick blankets.I got the message, ofcourse.

Another thing that causes marriages to break up is snoring. If both spouses snore, they can snore in harmony, and even have snoring competitions. It is bad if only one partner snores. then you either use ear plugs, or just remember what I read in the digest -'Snoring is the best music this side of heaven, ask any widow'.

Food is again a contentious issue. Some husbands have the habit of comparing their wife's cooking to their mother's.I never had this problem as my mother-in-law had never cooked in all her life.It is best to practise selective deafness on these occasions-you might turn up the volume of the TV, bang a few dishes,hit the punching bag, count till hundred, but never ever fight.

Another major reason for fights is naming the offspring. I never had this particular problem, as my mother-in-law insisted on naming all her grandchildren.I had a friend who wanted to name her daughter Chetana while her husband insisted on calling her Sirisha. The child got so confused she ended up with schizoprenia. Just imagine, if the grandmother had insisted on calling her Indira, the child would have ended up with multiple personality disorder!!

Children's education is always another issue. Don't feel victorious if you get the portfolio. It has its pitfalls. Recently, my cousin's daughter,25, complained that her mother ought to have made her learn Bharatanatyam. "But, Diya, I wanted to join you since you were six, and you were the one who refused to " said my baffled cousin."Mother," came the irritated retort"I was too young.You should have forced me to learn".It is clearly a no-win situation.

The list is endless. But if you survive the first ten years, half the battle is won.I feel the government should institute Param Vir Chakra and MahaVir Chakra awards for people who celebrate silver and golden wedding anniversaries, Is anyone listening?

Glueless bonding

I need very little to thrill me.I get an immense thrill when two jigsaw pieces fit together . There used to be a lovely 'ping' when they bonded ,but Seren hated the sound and silenced it.Being technically challenged, I couldn't put it back again.I didn't raise my voice because all this saatwik eating has made me docile.I can hear my pragmatic older offspring harumphing, but I do have these 'Thoda pyaar, thoda magic moments, when....

In the U.S. ,I see a lady with a nosering in the right side, the Tambram in me does a jig. I want to run forward and do a 'gale milana', only I know Altoid would disapprove.Once I did beam at a right nosering only to discover it was a hippie guy!

I sit in Sai Mandir and sing Sai Bhajans, and bond with all of them there.A wonderful 'yaadum oore, yavarum kelir' moment.(translates to' all places are mine , all men are my kinsmen')
I am in a souvenir shop, 'saat samundar paar, I am grinning at a magnet which
says 'You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince' I ,raise my eyes to find an American smiling at it too and feel an instant bonding across all barriers.
I see a young American at the airport, reading Khaled Husseini.I want to hug her and say ' me too loves his books!'

When I hear the chant 'Sarve Jana sukino bhavanthu' and feel one with all the universe!!

Jigsaw!

Flower Beds Jigsaw Puzzle

I have always loved jigsaws, and I always will.When we discovered jigsaws on the net, Seren was still in college .We used to compete with each other in doing it faster, and you should have seen her face when she came back from college and found that I had beaten her time record!

Seren always had a knack of doing jigsaws. She could assemble the pieces by their shape and colour, a skill I don't possess.The ones we love are Kincaid's. Altoid regularly supplies us with jigsaws.
So what is it with jigsaws? May be it is an innate longing for some order in this chaotic world.When pieces fit together, it really gives you a thrill,a 'God is in His heaven all is right with the world' feeling.


Poppy Jigsaw Puzzle

I do atleast one jigsaw a day (while in the good old USA ofcourse, in India I would get a whopping telephone bill) In case you love jigsaws here are a few! I suggested to my children that this craze for jigsaws and crosswords were the result of the trauma of my being the neglected middle child, but they do not agree.They feel it is too farfetched.

(s)tone deaf

One of my life's regrets is that I am completely tone deaf. Coming from a family of music buffs who used to sit through all night music concerts of Chemmangudi and Ariyakkudi, I am so obviously the black sheep.My aunt did make valiant efforts.She got me really good music teachers. I used to wonder why my music teachers looked so pained when I sang.I really couldn't sing. My uncle who used to visit us , felt it his duty to make us practise our music. He told me much later that he used to feel quite nauseous when he heard me sing. It was a strong sense of duty which kept him at it.
My aunt tried teaching me veena ( after the neighbours started buying earplugs, I suppose)
She finally gave up on me.
My sister-in-law sings really well.She gives concerts also.Once when she had come home during Navaratri, I asked her to sing. Even though I am tone deaf. I like to listen to music, especially when I understand the lyrics, especially Dikshitar's.Later my older sister-in-law told me that she had said that she did not enjoy singing to people who are tone deaf.

That hurt! I imagined a lot of cutting retorts . It rankled. It rankled so badly I never ever asked her to sing again.

Just yesterday I was listening to some music on the youtube. The Ranjani-Gayatri duo. They were asked a question by a member of the audience.The woman said that she did not know any thing about music.. she couldn't identify ragas or anything , but she did enjoy listening to music.. was that okay? The answer was an eye-opener for me. Gayatri said that it didn"t really matter whether you identified the raga or understood the finer nuances.. if the music touches a chord in your heart that was the best reward for the singer.In fact connoisseurs listen to music on a fault finding mission.
Hurrah!I am back to listening to music.. Never mind if I think Kambhoji is Devagandhari!

Appa's filter coffee

I read emolior's blog with great delight. I love compliments .I just soak in.Unfortunately not everyone in the house appreciates my filter kapi.
Until the time I left for the U.S. in 2002, my husband couldn't or rather wouldn't make his coffee.But when I planned to go I taught him how to. Now he no longer likes my coffee. He makes his own coffee.
When Emolior hears him in the morning making coffee in the kitchen, she feigns sleep.She will rattle something or if need be, kick me to get me to wake up. You ask why? Read on!
My husband gets his coffee powder specially ordered. It has 50%coffee and 50% chicory.He asks for tips on making coffee. Following one such tip, He put coffee powder in the filter, added three spoons of sugar(my mother said, a pinch) heated the filter red hot , ended up with coffee syrup as the sugar melted. The actual tip was , always slightly heat the filter to remove any blocks in the pores, add a pinch of sugar on top of the coffee powder .
He always makes the coffee real strong and believe it or not adds a spoon of instant coffee. The resulting brew can wake up the dead.Jet laggers like Emolior will never recover from their jetlag.
He is always hurt when his offspring refuse his offers of coffee.But pitrubhakti can be carried only so far, isn't it?

Tag Tag!

Hello folks! I am back!

My oldest memory:
is of 'anju ruba rendana " My fees at school was five rupees and two annas and i used to weep and wail unless it was given as five one rupee coins and two annas! I wouldn"t accept a five rupee note!

Ten years ago:
I was still working and nothing much to worry except the tenth std results.

My first thought this morning:
What else? What should I make for breakfast?


If you built a time capsule, what would it contain:
Depends on how big it was and if I was going back or forwards...If backwards nothing much. I think they needed only fruits and fig leaves!

This year
bad .. ....worse .....but I am closer to God.

14 years from now
Why 14 years? Vanvaas?

PPP in a pickle!

When the leaves of the mango tree in our frontyard turn that exquisite brown-green and the yard is covered with rustly dead leaves , I sigh: I know it is pp time again... No , not pillpopper time but pickles and preserves time.My aunt was a great pickler and preserver and March would always see the beginning of frenetic activity. Pickle jars would be cleaned and dried, plastic sheets washed...

First to make their appearance would be the curd rice accompaniment- the vad mangai.Vadumangais alas, were not available in Hyderabad and were imported via obliging relatives.The best vadus I have ever tasted were from Kutralam, my aunt's 'maika'.. where the vadus ,she assured us ,were from special trees. The vadus could not fall to the ground and were collected in nets tied under the trees. The vadus were just a single bite size , a lovely lime-green and absolutely yummy with curd rice ,the staple food of Tambrams. Remember this famous song.
Next in line would be an assortment of light pickles.....thokkus redolent with the flavours of methi powder, hing and gingelly oil, Ennai mangai with the right blend of salt, pungency and tang , morabbas with an exquisite sweet-sour taste....
Then simultaneously we would be into the vatrals and vadams. In the scorching heat of April , my aunt would create huge mounds of dough speckled with green chillies and seasoned with hing, with a liberal spray of lime juice. All the under 16s ( only girls mind you, no women's lib here) were sent scurrying to the terrace to get the arena ready for the great fat indian vadam spectacle. The sun would be a fierce orange blob and I would immediately start on a migraine.. but my aunt would be unfazed. If I had a headache .she would be having a worse one, and would tie a towel like a bandit queen around her head and carry on.I believed for a long time that my aunt was the reincarnation of some spartan general who would have willingly let the weaklings die ,believing in the survival of the fittest.
Suddenly May would be upon us, and it would be Avakkai time again. Avagai, the queen of mango pickles.Everything had to be right for this queen.. Previously all the spices would be made at home, but fortunately now we get everything readymade. The time had to be just right. The agni nakshatram had to be over but the thunder showers with hailstones shouldn't have ruined the mangoes. The mangoes which fell due to hailstorms were considered unfit for pickling, much like fallen women! My aunt would drag us to the market and haggle endlessly. We were the official tasters to check if the mangoes were sour enough. One bite and the tang would make our dendrites tingle.We would arrive home withe cut mangoes , half dead from the heat, but there was more work to be done. The mango pieces had to be wiped, the salt and chilli powder mixed.. Atlast it would be over. Three days later we would have a taste of the Avagai.. and it would be "If there is a heaven on earth, it is this ,it is this!'
Then I had made a resolution . I would never ever torture myself to make vatrals and vadams, But fate willed otherwise. But that is another story.

When my workaholic hyperactive aunt had a crippling stroke when she was 78, I wondered how she would cope with a sedentary life. But true survivor that she was , she switched to watching mega soaps and dispensing free advice to all and sundry.Now that is what I call a true survivor.

PS: The red monstrosity guarding the vadaam is thanks to my older daughter.For those who fail to recognise it , let me enlighten you here. It is the big bad wolf (Of red riding hood fame) in Grandma's clothing.

The Murabba recipe

2 Cups grated raw mango , Grated
2 Cups Sugar
a pinch of salt
4 sticks cinnamon
2 Tbsp chilli powder

Remove excess water from the grated mango , add sugar , cinnamon and chilli powder
Spread thinly on a plate
Cover with a muslin cloth
Leave it out in the sun for 2-3 days (bring it in each night :D) until the Murabba becomes syrupy
Store in air tight containers