I think, therefore I write

Category: MEMORIES (Page 1 of 2)

Recreating memories

By this post, you would know that my interest in cooking is fairly recent. It still is a chore for me on most days but I manage to get by knowing that I can cook up a delicious meal, when needed. Anyway, as I made my way through different dishes from amma’s culinary repertoire, trying one at a time, I realized that the newly discovered interest has a backstory after all. One that’s so obvious that I am surprised that I missed it.

I miss my mom and her cooking.

Though this has happened when I first moved out from home to my hostel, then dealing with various cuisines of PG food (ugh!) throughout my spinster life and so on. I have missed amma’s cooking earlier too but that was different. This time, with each of us locked in different cities in the pandemic, it’s been a while since mom got a chance to pamper me and my daughter I got a dose of her pampering. It’s amazing how she never gets bored with cooking and always has the energy to cook up something delicious.

Anyway, this week as I tried my hand at making Vaazhaipoo urundai (A type of falafel made from banana flower), Vaazhaithandu adai (A patty with banana stem – a variant of the first dish), paruppu dosai (My favorite dish with coconut chutney, always ready when I visit home from hostel), Mushroom curry fry, Masala dosa and many more of mom’s signature dishes, the aromas wafting through my kitchen reminded me of my childhood memories, particularly around food that I enjoyed the most as I grew up. I could just close my eyes and see amma working her way around in that dingy kitchen of the monumental house that I grew up in.

Amma in the kitchen was the norm for us. I was a pathetic daughter who didn’t help around much, I did an odd chore here or there but that was it. Yes, I do feel bad that I didn’t do more for her. I would ask her why she keeps at it and how she is not bored day after day, doing the same chore and she would reply, “You enjoy the food, right?” I couldn’t imagine the level of selflessness it took to have that attitude, even if it is for one’s own daughter.

For more than 30 years, she has never tired of the kitchen and cooking. Every time I cook something, my mind automatically compares it with amma’s. The comfort of childhood memories with amma combined with the comfort of food just makes my heart fill with content to the brim. That’s probably what made the experience better for me with time – else I was unhappy that I had to work to develop the interest unlike amma for whom it just came naturally.

Of course, there is a benefactor to all this – my daughter. She is happy that she is getting a variety of dishes as opposed to the mundane routine of rice and sambhar. I don’t think I’ll ever get over amma’s cooking, no matter how old I get. I hope my daughter retains some of these memories as nostalgia when she’s all grown up. I am surprised that she, unlike me, shows an interest in cooking and household chores at such an young age. She loves sitting in the kitchen and watching me cook. And narrating the recipe to her as I cook does make the chore less boring. Sometimes, I put on music and we do a bit of dancing jumping around as well.

So if my daughter looks back at one of these evenings and thinks of it as fondly as I think of my mom in the kitchen, I’d consider it my greatest reward.

Until later 🙂

P.S: Maybe, I should start posting some recipes. Lemme think about it.

Inexplicable

When it comes to social skills, I am kind of stuck in between an introvert and an extrovert. I would want to be a social person but I cannot be the kind who initiates a conversation or keeps it going for the most part – I would require the other person also to be equally talkative or sometimes, more talkative than me. This may be the reason for me not being able to keep in touch with my school and college friends. In addition to moving through the gears of time and life, the distance between me and my friends robbed me of my comfort zone and I let it slip away. I didn’t feel much of the pang because I got married to my childhood sweetheart – I had him, forever with me, to reminisce. So life just went on.

All this changed, oh so suddenly, when I stumbled upon a couple of my school friends Facebook profiles and messages. I wanted to talk to them but was skeptical if they would feel the same, after all these contact-less years. Nevertheless, I started talking to a couple of them and we started a Whatsapp group – all the while wondering if others will feel comfortable connecting after such a long time. How would everyone react? Will they be as involved and interested?

As for my tingling doubts about people’s reactions, boy, was I wrong! Everyone connected and pulled in more people seamlessly. We could get in touch with almost everyone in 2 days and our group flooded with messages. So much so that all of us were stuck to our mobiles through day and night. The emotions, excitement and joy was almost tangible even though we were only texting. For once, I believed technology and social media has done something useful, in creating as much joy and happiness in a bunch of people, especially during this hopeless time of a pandemic.

In less than a week, we planned and met virtually over a conference call with our families. We had just planned a trial run to see if we can find a suitable time for a real one. But again, almost everyone made it and the reactions on our faces said everything. Amidst talking over each other, talking at the same time, catching up on each other’s lives, managing to get our kids to talk and then be quiet, we enjoyed everything. We didn’t even know how the hour went by. There was so much to talk and so little time.

All of us remembered and reminisced about the joyful memories, our teachers, our daily school lives that we led as naive kids. To me, it felt like something that was frozen in time and memory had been thawed by friendship and brought back to life. Such was the feeling – it was truly inexplicable. It’s true what they say, meeting school friends after a long time and feeling nothing really has changed in the friendship is the best feeling. And especially childhood friends, there’s something about them that you cannot replace.

As the hour went by and our family lives pulled us back into each our lives, we bid adieu, with a promise to stay in touch and do this more often. I know we will, for every one of us had felt the pang of missing our friends. And now we know how great it could be, to stay in touch, to feel and connect with our younger selves. And I hope that I could keep this feeling that I fail to express even with writing, close to my heart, and treasure it for as long as possible.

Until later 🙂

My pride

The only thing that I did without letting Adit know before.
The only thing that I did again in spite of Adit not liking it.
The only thing that I was absolutely sure about wanting it for myself, my identity.
The only thing that I knew I’d want to get it done again when I got it for the first time.
The only thing that I got done for myself as selfishly as possible but at the same time is not about myself.

Here is the story of the first one and how frantic I felt before getting it 🙂 In contrary, the second one was fairly straight forward. I hit upon the idea in one moment, visualized it in one hour, researched and finalized it in one day. Then it was just a matter of booking an appointment and getting it done. I was mildly surprised that even Adit’s strong ‘no’ did not stop me.

Until later 🙂

’96

Disclaimer: This is not a movie review. This is about the impact a movie had on me.

The reviews had promised me a good movie with ’96. So I pretty much started watching it with that expectation. What I was completely unprepared for was the soulfulness and depth in the movie. The movie is so simple and realistic that it could have happened to me. Trisha and Vijay Sethupathi have done a fantastic job. Vijay Sethupathi more so. The question of what could have been coupled with the heavy musical notes evoke emotions unforeseen. The pain, the nostalgia, the simplicity – all of them make the movie incredibly credible. Good movies always impact me more than necessary, but no movie made me believe that it could have happened/could happen to me like this one did.

Govind Vasantha has let the music speak for itself. The tones keep ringing in my ears even after the movie is over. I watched this movie on a Friday and I found myself going back to it multiple times over the weekend. In search of what? I don’t know. Do I want the love to be requited in some way? Do I want to see them have some form of closure? Do I want to revel in that longing? I don’t know. This movie might have impacted me because I had a childhood sweetheart. But I married him. So I know only about what it’s meant to be. But this movie showed me that there can be it’s-not-meant-to-bes in life and that it could have easily happened to me if not for destiny.

The if-only’s were too painful for me. So many chances, yet all of them slipped through the fingers. For what end? I am not sure whether Ram and Jaanu got closure as they tearfully move on from their evening. But I sure didn’t. That’s the reason I find myself going back to the movie, searching for something that does not exist in that story – Closure.

The story of my tattoo

I had never thought of tattoos much except about the pain part. That must tell you a lot about my ability to handle pain.
I still look away when I have to give a blood test. That must tell you about my cringes when I think of/see needles.

So I never imagined myself getting a tattoo, of all things. So I was kind of scared and surprised when my brain suggested that I get one. However, the motivation behind the idea was strong enough for me to sail through the rocky seas. It was our third wedding anniversary and I was racking my brains on what to gift Adit. I try to do something different each year to surprise him. Some I win, some I lose. But I try. That’s when it struck me that I could get his name tattooed.

The idea part was the easiest. What followed was endless days and weeks of overthinking. Will it pain? If yes, how much? Will this surprise make Adit happy or mad? Do I get his entire name tattooed or something symbolic? Where? Which artist? and so on. There were many sleepless nights spent on some of these questions. And after some major planning and a few stupid questions to my friends who have tattoos, I decided I was going to do it.

I had to inform Adit that I was going to do something special as I couldn’t justify me wanting to elope somewhere without a reason on our anniversary and yet wanted it to remain a surprise. So I left a puzzled Adit at home and went to the studio. Again, a few stupid questions and many jittery moments later, I was pleasantly surprised at how less it pained (of course, I had chosen a fleshy arm to bear the brunt and had some romantic songs to listen to as a distraction) and how pleased I was with the result. And I had no regrets. It felt like it was a great idea and if I had to do it again, I would.

So as I wore my tattoo with pride, Adit was surprised by the gesture and mildly annoyed by the permanence of what I did (Like I said, some I win, some I lose). I was fine with his reaction but found other family members’ and friends’ reactions hilarious. For some reason, the first question people asked was if Adit got my name tattooed. And my reaction was – well, why should he? Is this a quid pro quo?

So after over an year, I still take pride in my tattoo and love it to bits. Will I get another one? Well, if I feel like it and if something that’s worthy enough comes along, yes.

Until later 🙂

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