Category: Life Ordinary

  • Teary I

    I’ve been told that I used to bawl when I was very young. One oft told story is how I used to be especially crabby during powercuts, which, before television serials, was how Kerala got its families to sit together. But, back to my serial rage. Apparently, hand held fans were beneath me, and to shut me up, dad had to take a room in the nearby hotel, which had a generator!!

    I think I redeemed myself fairly well in later childhood by becoming non-fussy and reducing the volume (in terms of sound) of my teary escapades, until I had a silent sobbing mechanism. Pain was the only thing that overrode this, but I remember that in college, during a particularly painful accident, with a half broken jaw and a doctor literally pushing back four of my front teeth  into the gums, I figuratively gritted my teeth and didn’t cry out loud. But I think, instinctively I might still cry out if I am not prepared.

    What made me think of all this? My observations of how adults and children had different crying habits. My recent trips to Kerala mostly meant a lot of time in hospitals, which, because of an atmosphere of fear and pain, are unfortunately ‘crying catalysts’. I thought of the last time that I had cried, not counting the random poignant moments (music, movies, books, thoughts) that bring unconscious tears. It was about a year back, when one rain induced skid at night was the last straw in making me feel that the cosmos was playing out a terrible conspiracy against me. The tears would have fallen for less than a minute, mixing freely with the rain pouring down my face. Maybe I was giving myself the option of believing that I really hadn’t cried at all. Heh. 🙂

    But what actually sparked even those observations were the words I read in Neal Stephenson’s Quicksilver

    Some say that crying is childish…. Crying loudly is childish, in that it reflects a belief, on the cryer’s part, that someone is around to hear the noise, and come a-running to make it all better. Crying in absolute silence..is the mark of a mature sufferer who no longer nurses, nor is nursed by any such comfortable delusions.

    Do you still cry, silently, when no one’s watching? What’s your delusion? 🙂

    until next time, the blog’s name has a ‘cry’ in it. sigh.

  • Onashamsakalmadi

    Considering that Kannada is to be made compulsory in Bangalore, this is how Bangalore Malayalis will wish each other henceforth. For those unaware of the Onam backstory, check out my reasonably legit version or the RGV rendition.

    After a search across media platforms for sadya options, and basis last year’s not-so-great experience at Little Home (which has gone down drastically these days) it was a toss between Ente Keralam and the new kid on the 5th Block, Koramangala – Cafe Malabari. Since I read on the FB group that getting reservations at Ente Keralam would be difficult, the choice became easy. As per the information given, the sadya would start at 11.45-12 and cost Rs.225.

    We landed there just after 12, and on hindsight, just in time. A Yakshagana – Mahabali mashup was on hand to welcome everyone. The umbrella is definitely this season’s collection!  🙂 After we got the coupons and barely got the seats – the ones facing the road, the rush started and pretty soon, they even took off the banner advertising the sadya.

    We had to sit for a while watching others polish off their sadya, and Maveli inspecting the arboreal ‘pookkalam’. Finally we were set to begin, as we got the sadya infrastructure in place.

    After a smaller wait, all the pieces began falling into place. Out of the twenty three listed items, we only missed two, and that’s not a bad deal at all, considering the massive rush.

    The one big snag was that because of a tissues distribution failure, I had to keep my clicking finger away from sampling any of this, until I could get a final shot and could then concentrate solely on eating. I gave up after the sambar made its entry. After three rice rounds, and two payasams, there seemed to be only a couple of survivors. The banana peel doesn’t count!

    In a coconutshell, Cafe Malabari did a good job. If they survive the Koramangala restaurant wars, I’ll do a repeat next year. The funniest part of the entire experience was Mahabali shouting out ‘Sold Out’ to the crowd outside. 🙂

    I wish we could add an ഓണകോഴി (chicken) to the mix. Meanwhile, I do have a concept for next year, based on the beer lunch. Will need to talk to the Kerala Beverages Corporation for this though –  ഓണാശംസകളള് 🙂

    until next time, as a fellow mallu said, Mahabelly 🙂

  • Adept Us

    The blog (and its readers) have been victims of many a ‘baggage’ post, but this one is slightly different. The ‘insight’ must seem a no-brainer on hindsight, but because it isn’t a direction I’d thought in, it did seem a bit of a revelation.

    From my own experiences and from observing others, I realised that there was one thing that makes baggage shed itself at whatever pace is required at the moment – survival. And it works across all kinds, say physical eg.cleanliness, or emotional eg.hatred for a person and it looks like the subconscious has a way of dealing with it such that we don’t even realise it is happening. Maybe it doesn’t work the same way for everyone, but I know it does for me, at least to a certain extent.

    The other realisation was the paradox in adaption working both ways. There are many baggage items that started out as a sort of protection when dealing with others eg. the aggression that hides a timid character slowly eclipsing the latter completely. This then becomes a part of character till we don’t even realise that we weren’t always that way. Until the day something forces it to be dropped – not just for a few hours, but a longer stretch of time.

    We have been wired for survival but since it is not really possible to simulate situations that threaten it, I come back to the original square – of watching oneself, being really ‘aware’ of every instant, and guarding against baggage accumulation. Now that’s a how-to I am yet to crack.

    until next time, survival of the fib test

  • Expert Ease

    This one jumped ahead in the drafts queue, thanks to a tweet session with Ranjani.

    The internet, and specially its social manifestations have meant that experts of all shapes and sizes scream out of my stream on a regular basis. So, when I found a superb post that mashed two domains where I see most of the atrocities being committed in the name of expertise, I was oh! so happy enough to share it and add my two non-cents. One of the two domains is easy to guess – the social web, where the number of experts are about 3 less than the number of users, the three non experts being bots or brands. The second one is food.

    Both of these are domains I operate in, and in both of them I have a problem with ‘expertise’. With respect to social media, it’s pretty simple. There are dozens of social media tools and platforms that the ‘expert’ would have no clue about. Even if he did, there’s a new one coming out every week. The application of expertise is usually to do with brands. Again, there are thousands of categories and audience types, whose usage of tools and platforms differ as do their relationships with brands. I can go on and on, but I’d like to hop on to the other one.

    On food. I don’t cook, and my knowledge is limited to one season of Masterchef Australia, in which I was completely lost in the visual stimuli and paid scant attention to the craft. However, I can understand how one person could become an expert in cooking a dish/many dishes in a certain way, or know how that dish tastes according to a certain recipe, but to assume that every palate in the world will appreciate the dish cooked that way, ONLY that way, and further decree that it SHOULD be enjoyed only that way, is to my mind, ridiculous. And yet, I have seen enough snobbery around that, and tirades on how one should opine on food. (example) A good time to note that despite Mr.Bourdain’s well intentioned advice, I still have my steak well done. (someone commented on twitter that they stopped reading the food reviews here because of that) I aspire to be worthy in some other way. Sigh.

    I do grant that ‘experts’ more often than not offer perspectives more broad, deep, and varied than the average person. There are also instances where certain technicalities are involved, and a trained person’s view might be considered more informed. But the issue for me is about taking a global stance on expertise – on everything that falls in the domain, opining on it, and then insisting that the opinion is the only standard applicable, with no consideration to an untrained person’s views and reasons. As Seth Godin rightly said, “Expertise is a posture as much as it is a volume of knowledge.” Unfortunately, on the flip side, most people do not have the time to google, so the ‘expert’ status IS easily gamed, especially on social platforms, where a fan legion will attack at the first sign of dissent. Maybe if we can all agree that there are no experts, and only perspectives, some informed, some nuanced, and some just plain subjective opinions…

    Will end this with the best work on the subject that I have seen – this xkcd toon, which pretty much sums it up

    (alt text: Our brains have just one scale, and we resize our experiences to fit)

    until next time, I don’t mind expert comments ok? 😉

  • Parenthesis

    Sometime back, I saw this relatively unknown Malayalam movie called ‘Calendar’, starring Zareena Wahab, playing mother to Navya Nair. Zareena’s character is widowed at 21 and she refuses to remarry since she wants to give all her attention to her child. The movie worked for me, despite it being built on the cliched “kid grows up, and gives more importance to her own life than her parent’s feelings”, thanks to a tight script and some neat casting.

    On the day I’m writing this, 3 works – one news item, one article, and one short story – appeared in my reading stream. The news was about a 107 year old woman left by her children, one of whom stays nearby, to fend for herself in a cowshed, the article centred around the topic of divorce and its impact on children, and the fiction work had to do more with marriage and infidelity, but with a neat twist in the end. Speaking of the end, I will link to them there, so you don’t escape this early. 😉

    I really didn’t need these prompts to write on the subject, since parenthood has been a source of constant debate recently, thanks to our parents aging and showing the first signs of serious aches and pains, even as we grow older and realise that the body also believes in keeping a low temperature of revenge for sins committed on it during the last three decades. 🙂

    Parenthood is one of those things that seriously lacks an undo feature, just like death, and is hence treated as a decision that merits serious thought. In general, the parents want the child to have a happy life and make choices on its behalf. Choices the child may not like/appreciate, but the parents believe to be the right one. They also make sacrifices for the child, in terms of time, money, and so on.

    But at least for debate’s sake, do you think these acts are always completely selfless? Isn’t brewing underneath it all a set of expectations? Sometimes parents see children as a way of fulfilling their own aspirations, sometimes they see them as support mechanisms in old age. Even if it’s none of these, or others you can think of, they at least get some pleasure out of seeing their child do well in life.

    But what blows me has always been that the parents get to make this considered choice of having a child and the child who is brought into the world and is the recipient of this and later choices, has zero say in the matter. It’s a serious product design flaw, and the only non-utopian remedy is for everyone concerned not to take each other for granted.

    As promised, the news, the article and the story.

    until next time, apparent traps