New School....Young Adult.

We just moved to a new city - Torrance, CA sometime early September 2014. Torrance is an old city with an oil refinery in it and playing headquarters to Toyota and Honda. Highest Japanese population in US. Lots of beaches and close to LA. Bangalore weather.

Of all the things, Nandan's new school experience was always in the back of my mind. This is because he had a wonderful time in a Montessori school in Plano and coupled with the apartment park, he always had his school friends around 7 days a week. I knew that this can never be recreated anywhere. Hence, the apprehension.

So, found him a school after three weeks. Hickory Tree School. School timing was longer and school was the opposite of Montessori. All the reviews from friends were that it was a great school and kids learn a lot. Comparing to Plano, less space was visible. The classes were diverse though. And the teachers had good experience. Nandan's pre-k teacher is Ms. Marilyn. 44 years of teaching experience.

Three weeks of no friends made Nandan restless and he got all ready for the new school. He entered his class and immediately introduced himself to his teacher. He then went and joined his new class mates (who were sitting in a circle) and went about introducing himself with a "hello, hi...am Nandan". He did all this by himself. Laya went and sat next to him. Nandan introduced her as his sister and gave her a peck. Turned out Laya crying all the way back home saying she wanted to go to school.

I went back to pick him up in the evening. And there were two comments from Ms.Marilyn. He is very talkative. He is not like a kid but like a young adult. The first comment, I knew, was coming. Coming from a Montessori, he is used to doing activities in a group which meant talking a lot. The second comment, I paused and took it in. The teacher went on to say that he asks, explains, talks in a detailed way that kids his age do not do. Ms.Marilyn said that she had never seen a four and half year old kid this way and was adjusting to it.

In his old school, he would come home excited. It was missing here first day. My belief is that he will adapt. His first lessons in life have started not in what his school is teaching, Rather in how he is coping up to change. Every change will add a feather to him and one day he will fly. 

India

Three facts about India in the space of 8 months

1. In Oct 2013, when Cyclone Phailin struck the east coast, India successfully moved close to half a million people from the coastal regions. One of the world's largest disaster evacuation feat, there were 44 people killed in this cyclone. Remarkable considering just 14 years back, 10,000 people were killed in 1999 in the same region because of a cyclone.

2. In Nov 2013, India sent out Mangalyaan, a Mars Orbiter which is half way now across to Mars. It was achieved at a cost of $ 76 million, which was roughly 1/10th of the cost of the latest US Mars mission sent a few days later. Primarily India's mission is to demonstrate that it can successfully do interplanetary travel (4th nation).

3. Starting April 2014 till this second week in May 2014, India conducted the largest democratic elections in the world. 64% of 900 million eligible voters have exercised their democratic right.

I always see two yardsticks for developing countries. First is what is lacking? Second is how much more to catch up with?

India has a lot to catch up with, 66 years after attaining Independence. But it is a good India capable in diverse fields. India has demonstrated, time and again, that a set of good people with focused objectives can achieve bigger and greater things at ease. 

Happy Birthday Thalaivaa!

சமீப காலமா, ரோட்ல, வெளி இடத்துல திடிர்னு சின்ன பசங்க என்ன பார்த்து 'Uncle' அப்படின்னு கூப்பிடும் போது - அந்த சத்த காற்றலைகள், சில (பவர்புல்) அணுக்கள் கூட சேர்த்து, மேலும் அதிர்வுற்று - என் காதுக்குள் "Rajini Uncle...நான் இங்க இருக்குறேன்" அப்படின்னு குட்டி மீனா சொல்ற மாதிரி வந்து சேர ஒரே காரணம் - ஒரு சராசரி தமிழன் தன் சாதாரண அன்றாட வாழ்க்கை நிகழ்வில், நின்னாலும், நடந்தாலும், தன்னகுள்ள இருக்குற Style sense ஒரு படி மேல உணர, வெளிபடுத்த உதவிய தலைவர் தான். He simply was the key to unlock the Style potential of our own making. Happy Birthday Thalaivaa!

No, Thank You....

Do dreams weigh? Does love, joy, sorrow, anger, excitement weigh?

Yes, I think so.

We have read that Atlas burdened himself with the World. Well, I do not know how many people were there then. I certainly know that 7 billion more people inhabit the World now and out of this, one billion people have placed their burdens of joy, often, and sorrow, of late, on one man.

And this man did not refuse it. He stood up and took the burden.

How can joy burden, you might ask? It does. Imagine yourself on a busy street. And as you walk through, every person coming and thanking you. And then you see the first person come back again and say thank you. And it continues.

I will screw Thank You.

I am not going to Thank this man for I fear am burdening him once more. He has done enough.

Let the man be.

Let him be able to walk out, grab a newspaper and coffee, sit on some random bench and watch the sun rise and smile for himself. Let him be able to sit with his family on a beach among crowds and laze out.

I believe in God. But let this man be for he has done what no God on Earth has still done.  

Asal

One of my usual poses when waiting for something.

Last week, was at my in-laws place in Jayankondam. Evenings, I usually visit the Gangai Konda Chozhapuram Siva temple and then come back into the town to my favorite muttai parota kadai. Was such a regular there that the kothu was made special for me! That day, had taken Nandan with me to the temple and then to the parotta kadai. Nandan grew restless in seeing all the preparation. So, I promised a goyaa chocolate (standard in all TN potti kadais. Just ask.) and looked around for a potti kadai. There was one across the road. I left Nandan standing in the shop surrounded by the parotta master, his two helpers, one server and the kadai mudalali. I crossed the road and Nandan lost my sight. I did have an eye on him as I got the chocolates. And then it happened. I first thought he would get all scared and at least appear visibly nervous. Understandably, the guys surrounding him did not paint a pretty picture. But then I was open mouthed and gaped when the potti kadai lady repeatedly called me to give the change. There he was, three years old,  standing with one of his hands on the table, the other on his hip and his legs cross-legged like I usually stand and looking out at the road traffic in general. No fear. Just amusement.  At that moment, I knew 'Nammala pirichi meya oruthan vandhutaan da'. When we went home, he excitedly described in a kiddish way to Ramya on how they did the kothu. Am sure Ramya loved the kid talk and loved the kid in him as well.

I just smiled. 

The Crescent Moon, Nail and Nandan

Reading the Tintin comics from the public library and hence the title is an influence. :) Nandan turned out 3 last week. In the space of last 3 months, he pointed out three patterns that left me puzzled. Here are they:

1) We have a fan in the living room. It has has that light bulb built into it and the switches are those hanging knobs. One day, Nandan was playing around with a stick and was jumping up to hit one of those hanging knobs. On one stroke, he did hit and the knob went swinging in a pendulum motion. This guy took a moment of observation to sink it in and then said "Appa, that is a see saw" and made that to and fro motion. The only place he has observed a to and fro motion.

2) On a sunny morning, Nandan had just got up. The sunlight came through the patio glass door in rays and you could see the small particles in the air lighten up and make those random zig-zag motion. He was lazily observing with his sleepy eyes and then his eyes brightened up. He said "Appa, they are moving like fish in water".

3) One of those evening joy rides with the family in the car when you do not have a destination and simply drive around the farms to catch some animals and show them to Nandan. And the sky was stunning with dusk colors and a beautiful crescent moon (three days after new moon). Nandan caught the moon in all its beauty and said "Moon looks like a cut finger nail".

And the one to beat it all happened way before. This took me away completely. It was 28 July 2011. Nandan was 1 year and 6 months old. Just giving out one or two syllable words. Our favorite was how he told umbrella as 'am-bum-ba'. That day, we (my father-in-law, Ramya, Nandan and me) had gone to Dakshin Tirupathi temple (a very beautiful and isolated temple standing on a cliff overlooking large lands of farm and a beautiful river snaking below) near Hosur and on the way, gone to a shop. Now that shop had one of those trendy small fire extinguisher hanging from the wall. While my wife was shopping, I was trying to distract this guy and carrying him around. I thought the bright red extinguisher will be a good one to keep him mused for awhile and was showing it to him standing close to it. All of a sudden, Nandan started repeating 'am-bum-ba' pointing to the extinguisher. Now, I thought he had somehow taken a fancy for that word and was going gaga over it. And I was happy that I was able to keep him occupied (he he). Then, when he did not stop, I took a closer look at where he was pointing. Turned out that he was not pointing at the fire extinguisher but to an analog dial gauge (measuring the pressure) in it. And then it dawned to me. He had seen that little markings of pressure units in a semi-circle (with that perpendicular needle pointing half way) in the gauge. The semi-circle and the needle formed an umbrella pattern to him. To this day, I was amazed he could see that pattern. 

Satyamoorthy Park

That was a friendship which I had never had. Not till that time.

Growing up in Egmore in a colony, friends were mostly my age from similar social strata, seeing the same films, playing gully cricket together. I was in my college then - year 1997. Sunday evenings were kept for only one thing: Cricket battles at Satyamoorthy Park. This park was opposite to a big well maintained cricket ground (WUS) where district matches used to happen. We used to perch on walls and watch in awe on all those professionals playing cricket in whites. Occasionally jump into the ground to throw that odd ball that came towards you and feel proud of it! In contrast, our park was infested with kids and adults of all ages sharing that small park with only one intention: Cricket. As many as 10 matches, if you can call them matches, will happen at the same time. You will need to be used to that landscape and flurry of people to really know where your game is happening. We regulars were quite accustomed to the chaos. That 2 hours of adrenaline pumping ecstasy if we win and the ego hurting pain if we lose will carry us through the regular week. Satya, Deva, Shaun, Stal, Praveen, Om, Gundu to name a few in our mid 20s were that gang - the 'Galige gang'.

And then we met Ashok and gang - the 'Local gang'

It was pure hatred at first. What started as a friendly match between our teams became an intense all-rules-bent-to-win games. And the big difference was the age factor and the social background. Ashok, Bafa, Stephen, Unny, Mani were all in their mid and late 30s. They were in the, if I might, lower middle class belt of Chennai. They were into odd jobs like a bus driver, hardware shop owner, security guard, flower shop owner. Some of them were married. So, here we were playing against people who played cricket in a way we did not understand. It was not the game for them. It was always about winning. And Captain Ashok did beat us most of the times by hook or crook. An example: Umpires are always from the batting team. So, when a batsmen hits a ball high and you bring your eyes from the ball to the leg umpire, he would also be watching the ball and the fielder below it. And then after a good 2 seconds (where he judges the probability, I guess) will bring up his right hand parallel to the ground - NO BALL! And then there will be a big fight where Ashok's gang will always have the last word. You see...we were kids before them. Some of us even start talking in English (oh my god!) in anger and will be returned with the choicest cuss words in Tamil. Only Unny (he was their Dravid!) and Mani will bring the house in order. This is just for one ball! Imagine the game then. And brought up as we were, we never got into a fist fight (we would have all been overthrown in 10 sec). And so there begin a period where we started losing constantly and it started reflecting in our daily lives. And to top it all, they were all bet matches. And our already meager pockets were being emptied at a faster rate! See how we felt...Miserable days those were!

As with all battles and wars, our rivalry ended with the most obvious and simple thing: the common enemy. Raj and his hep gang! These were the guys who were in their colleges with wads of cash and bikes. The guys who come in whites and nikes to Satyamoorthy Park (I played all my games with Slippers and Sandals with loose bermudas!) The guys who went to summer camps for Cricket practice. In short, the 'Peter gang'.

One day, there was less attendance from both our gang and Ashok gang. So, reluctantly by us and readily by Ashok (as we sponsored the money for the bet), we joined as a team and played against Raj. For once, it was good to win the game and also to see the lost look on Rajesh on all the wierd umpiring calls. They left in a huff and said they will come back the next week to challenge us. And thus started the most beautiful and hitherto unknown friendships. Satya and me, especially, became real close to Ashok and gang. The common denominator was drinks, you see. There was a pitch roller (yup!) in the park and the area behind is the bar. I still remember a game (first innings) where I was batting and Raj was bowling. He had started the run up and I moved away from the stumps and called 'wait'. Ashok was the umpire then and he immediately put his hand to stop the bowler. The whole fielding team was puzzled and so was Ashok. I walked slowly to the pitch roller; put a hand behind; took a swig (of Old Cask) and then returned to the wicket. You should have seen the look on Raj then. Ashok gave the loudest hoot ('proud of you, son') and I was named 'Chiyaan' the same day by him!

Behind those rough and tough looks of Ashok and gang, there were some sad and hard stories. Satya and me heard those once in the middle of WUS ground (yup right!) on a clear night. Ashok had arranged a party (after bribing that security guard) right in the middle of the pitch where the district guys used to play. We jumped walls into the ground and walked with our heads high (and chest thumping!). There was rum; there was beef; and there were some amazing accounts of people whom I played with all the while but never realized that there was so much underlying emotions in them. Stephen, who was the most serious person and who never laughs in the games, talked only in English (!!) about a girl he lost. Bafa (alias Shanmugam) talked about how getting on life itself was so hard. Ashok said that we young guys were always talking about girls and that is a very bad thing  which we will soon realize (Nostradamus!). As Deva and Gundu came to pick us in their bicycles, both Sathya and me were blabbering something about life and philosophy!

That friendship lasted a few years. After we got into jobs, we could not give it the same attention. And such friendships don't last on mobiles or mails. I mean...I cannot call up Ashok and talk to him for even a minute. We will run out of conversations. Our relationships started and ended with Satyamoorthy Park. I don't even have a photo of them.

When Chennai 28 movie happened, Satya and me (being the emotional stupid guys we were/are) left the theater in tears. Coming to think of it now, those were tears worth shedding.