Maladu Days

A small packet was dropped before me. Rows of little powdered milk cubes were lined inside. Probably just another snack that dad brought. But why did it look so familiarly yummy already? Slowly, I picked out one of those little cubes and looked at it. "It's maladu." said mom, noticing my scrutiny. One small bite...and the cube melted in my tongue...that powdered milk giving life to all those taste buds as if they had been dead all along...and with the powdered milk, all that was around me melted away...

A sudden excitement crept into every inch of my body as I bounced off in full speed to my front door. I'd heard her hoot from downstairs...she was here again! Halting right in time before hitting the wall, I climbed up the grills of the nearby window to get a glimpse of her. Holding the cold iron bars tightly, I peered through the opening in the grills. Aah, there she was, at the bottom of our staircase, lowering her basket down  from her head.

"Mummieeeeee!! Maalaadooo maameee's heeeereee!!! " I screamed out. And then I looked back at dear maladoo maamy, with a kind of elation that only a four year old could have on seeing her favourite snack within reach. Maladus were so yummy, those round little balls of magic powder, perhaps the love of my life at the time. And each time it got finished at home, I would wait for maladu maamy, who would always come back with more. And here I was on top of the grills, bubbling with joy on having sighted her.

But where was my mother? Why wasn't she responding to my call? Suddenly I was afraid that mom wouldn't show up and maladu maamy would go away. I was afraid of missing out on this time's maladus. In desperation, I called out again, "Mummiieeeee!!"

Before I could get any more disappointed, I was surprised to see mom and my sister downstairs standing next to maladu maamy. How did they get outside? Oh wait, they'd gone to the market hadn't they? How could I forget?! Mummy was looking up at me with a smile. Had they heard me all the way from the market and rushed home? Probably, because I cannot imagine missing my maladus! Yes, they knew that they had to reach home ASAP.

Fast forward thirteen years, and I sat with another cube in my hand, eyes wide. Another flash of memory...I was looking straight at mom, and for the hundredth time or so she chanted, "Little Wilhelmine..looks with wonder waiting eyes."

All these years, and it was only today that I read the lines of the poem she'd recited so long ago, the Battle of Blenheim. I looked up at mom now, but she was engaged with something else. A sudden realization occurred at how much I'd grown up since then. 

Looking back at the maladu in my hand, which was no longer round-shaped like it used to be thirteen years ago, but still had that unmistakable taste of the ones maladu maamy used to bring, the flashback I experienced is similar to the Ratatouille movie when the food critic was presented with a childhood dish; ratatouille itself. The moment the dish touched his tongue, he was a child again, devouring the ratatouille his mother made for him, and he couldn't possibly be any happier.

Today I saw the truth in it. When I eat these maladus now, that same illogical elation engulfs me, as if the best thing that could happen in life is to be able to eat yet another maladu. When I come to think of it, its funny how easily happiness came to us as kids. Age sucks in the slightest of the joys we enjoy. But not unless we  choose otherwise. 

Sometimes the memories hidden in the deepest part of our minds resurface and remind us of the little reasons behind our childhood smiles, like this maladoo did to me. And now I know, that if ever I am in need of happiness, all I really need is a maladu, and I shall be a four year old again...happy as can be..with those wonder waiting eyes.

Monotonous Cacophony

You think time doesn't cease?

That it knows no 'pause'?

That it heeds no halts and it's its own boss?

I thought so too,

That it waits for none,

That if once it moves it's never undone.

But then, here now

So it seems, that

Our dear old time's just been outdone!

For I've seen it slow

And I've seen it halt,

And I bet you must have seen it too.

When a room so filled 

And you're stuck there drilled...

With that same voice

With that same face,

Each day, each time

with that same unbroken 

Monotonous cacophony.

Was Yesterday today?

Is today now tomorrow?

Did hours pass by?

Or maybe just minutes?

Ahh yes, time halts

when unneeded the most,

when the cacophony of lectures

rings boredom down to earth. 

Yes, time pauses

when wished to speed up

when seconds on a clock

seem hours at end.

Yes, time ceases, 

The king of existence

And yet it bows 

to monotonous cacophonies,

yet it bows

when boredom descends.

***

# classroom_scene #boringlectures 

FYI this is with reference to all those long hours of class in school (or maybe college), which never (-ever!) seems to end. One must appreciate the endurence power of a student! But of course it is one of the come-and-go episodes of life we cannot avoid. So we might as well make the best out of it. All the same, the monotonous cacophony is one that has beaten time itself, so one cannot possibly expect us to get along with it that easy. Well, here's to all those students who actually make it through their boring lectures without losing their peace of mind ( or anything else for the matter).
We be wows! ;)

A Week with the Kitchen

Surely, it could manage for a week without mom. But of course it wouldn't be happy about it. Dad and I were to take her position for the time being. We were to be employed as home-makers temporarily. Salary? Three square meals everyday, that is, if we do it right. It was only a matter of one week after all, how hard could it be? So here we go..

#Day 1

Dad and I enter the kitchen, all geared up to make the dish of the day. While dad got the tea ready, I opened the fridge to get all the stuff we might need. Well, there was *everything* that we needed. As in, mom'd prepared food for a day to ease our work. We were relieved, but also secretly disappointed to have nothing to cook for the day. But the kitchen was happy. So were we.

#Day 2

Dad and I are feeling responsible. Today, we are going to cook!  As I scrounge the kitchen for our requirements, dad becomes acutely mad for not finding anything he wants. Unfortunately, the kitchen sensed the heated mood and got irritated. It ended up hiding all that we needed in easily-unnoticed corners. After an exhausting preparation of a few hopefully-edible idlis, we still hadn't made the curry we planned to. If we were to start making that, we'd end up having breakfast at lunch time.  Luckily, there was still some left from what mom made, and we adjusted with it for the day.

#Day 3

We start early, with one day's experience of work. We'd finished up all the curry by now. So it was going to be a dad 'n' me special sambhar. He asked me to get all the vegetables we had. I did. There were so many that we couldn't choose. So naturally, dad cut out all the veggies available and we had a tough time finding a vessel big enough to fit them all. With a great deal of excitement we made our epic sambhar, just the way we expected. Content with the accomplishment of making enough sambhar for the neighborhood, every other dish looked petty. So I shall not be mentioning it here. The Kitchen was content too, though exhausted just the way were.

#Day 4

The kitchen badly needed a bath. It wasn't particularly fond of the change in livelihood in the past three days. Dad and I were cross at it more often, and it only made things worse for us. Atleast we were glad the sambhar was in plenty. We didn't have to make more curry for a while. I gave the kitchen a nice clean up. Hopefully it would be better tempered now. It was definitely missing mom a lot. All we did was mix things in wrong proportions, make food either too much or too less, and leave a huge heap of left-over wastes around. But I guess we were getting a hang of it. 3 days to go.

#Day 5

Whoops. Poor kitchen is running out of supplies. Dad and I went shopping. In any case, we had to keep the kitchen in good terms with us. The refrigerator, the plastic containers, cupboards, everything was empty. Except the dustbin though. Surprisingly, the sambhar had gotten over. Apparently, we consumed it too lavishly, overestimating its quantity. We managed to make a fish curry in just about the right quantity. The kitchen was reloaded. Clean and complete. We'd done our dishes well. Ahha. Who said the kitchen was a tough nut to crack?! It was a piece of cake for us! 

#Day 6

The smoothest day so far. That's right, we rocked the kitchen. I bet it loved us. Dad and I didn't complain anymore. We'd replaced the kitchen stuff our way. It wasn't confusing now either. We'd nailed it! Trust us, cooking had actually become fun, though time-consuming. It wasn't a full-time job anyway. We did have a few hours of break after each meal. Since we were only beginners, many petty jobs in the household were waived. There is no teaching aid to prepare us to handle a home after all, the only means of learning being experience. Mom is so far ahead in the field that we couldn't possibly see her. But at least today we got the knack of it. The kitchen was happy, so were we.

#Day 7

Dad and I feel very important. One more day and we would succeed in our week-long kitchen management task. You have to admit that our accomplishment isn't trivial! Everything was in place, we knew what to do , and we had one smooth day's experience. This day was surely going to be better. 

*Ding Dong* 

Surprise! The veteran home-maker is back a day early. It seemed that she missed the kitchen too much to have stayed away any longer. We could have easily managed another day. But yes, we were relieved.

Mom is quick to adjust back with the kitchen. It seems overjoyed, and more homely. It wasn't as neat and organized as we'd kept it. But it seemed to like the slightly messy way mom liked to keep it. What we took hours to do she did with a flick of her finger. What we couldn't find in the kitchen, mom saw with her third eye. What not another soul could do, mom could make home feel home. 

And so we now know the tedious task of handling a kitchen. Here's our salute to all moms for their perseverance, patience and peace-keeping, which most of us often fail to appreciate. Spend a week with the kitchen and you'll know it.

My Sweet Sixteen

He wanted to know everything that happened that day. What happened on my sixteenth birthday. The most daring day I ever lived, the biggest secret I ever kept. And strangely enough, I wanted to tell him. Him, whom I met ages after our last encounter. Him to whom it didn't matter at all. After so long a time, it would be painful to kindle the memories of the lost bonds, though only one year past. But who wouldn't want to have a tour through the best day of your life once again? Who wouldn't want to give away anything to live that day once more?

And so, I told him. I told him about all the drama that unfolded that day, of all the tensions, anticipations, all the excitement, and happiness. I lived the day once again through the tale. I re-visited the essence of what we had back then. I smiled again like I did that day. I told him everything, and yet how little he knew. I sounded carefree, yet how very far I was from it.

Three hundred and sixty five days later, on the same day that I believed was my best, came a surprise. Unlike that day, I was showered with love with not one, but many. And I was happier than I was then. That was the surprise. Back then, it was most of the adrenalin that took the place of happiness. But now it was different. I couldn't choose which was better, whether to be purely happy, or be happily worried.

It was my birthday, and I thought it was once again the happiest day I ever had. But when I look back now, I realized that it would still be my sweet sixteen that I would remember the most. And I also realized, that I missed what I had back then, despite all the things that made my day special this time.

It isn't everyday that you get nostalgic about your past. And the past often catches up with you when solitude takes your side. But then, when there are the ones who give you better company than solitude, when they can't make you stop smiling, amidst all the laughter and celebrations, if it is still possible to miss that day for whatever it was worth...it means it is something that has touched you for a lifetime.

But yes, past is past. We mustn't hold on to it. Because life goes on, even if we don't. And yes, You Only Live Once. Like I say, you risk it, or regret it. I risked it then. And I don't  regret it.

And now I smile, thanking almighty for what He has blessed me with. Let life take what course it wishes. Until then, I have my memories to kindle, come every birthday of the year. I'll miss you, sweet sixteen. Always

To have a sister

A little girl of four sat on the printed carpet. The deafening rain outside thrashed through the windows. The room was dimly lit, occasionally brightened by the flashes of lightning. A sudden thunder reverberated in the room. But the little girl wasn't afraid. She knew that she was safe and sound on the carpet. Surely, the lightning couldn't get through to her! She wisely stayed put on the mattress, not giving lightning a chance to get her. That wise little girl was me, thirteen years ago.

Someone called from the bedroom. I swiveled my head to see an older girl sitting on top of the bed. "Get over here!" she called out, with an urgent expression on her face. "The bed is safe! Get in here before you're struck by an electric shock!" She exclaimed desperately, "Hurry! "
"But you told me that it couldn't get through the carpet!" I called back worriedly.
"Well...not anymore! Get in here fast! It can't get through to the bed!"
And so, I rushed over to the bed as fast as I could, afraid that lightning would hit me the moment my feet touched the tiled floor.

That was my dear own sister, for whom I was there at every beck and call. She was my head and I her tail. Thirteen years thence, I still look up to my sister the way I did when she 'protected' me from lightning. I still need her badly, despite all the times she is so annoyingly talkative and gets on my nerves.

She is my dear sister who turns twenty two today, and who still loves Cerelac and watches cartoons. She is my sister, who cooks egg rolls out of a dozen eggs, who makes holes on chapathis and makes them taste like cookies, who insists on playing monopoly and watching animated movies, who secretly wishes to get me a barbie set so she could play with it herself, who shuts herself in a room to dance unseen in the dark, and who just can't stop blabbering whether you listen to her or not.

And that is why, each time she arrives, it is a holiday season at home. Because she doesn't come alone. She comes with a package deal of a huge amount of happiness. I'd say she's like our Santa Claus, but better 'cause she comes twice a year. Like Santa, she brings home smiles, and the house is full of zest. Yes, she  brings gifts too, ranging from a three-rupee pen to a branded t-shirt! What's more, she calls me 'jingle bells', though for reasons I haven't yet understood.

Dad and I were now on the road, racing our way to the Calicut Railway Station. I hopped out of the car to look for her. She wasn't hard to find; her peculiarly bubbly pace being unmistakable. There she was...bouncing her way towards me with so wide a grin that it could scare you if you weren't used to it. I couldn't help grinning myself.

Till then, my mind had been preoccupied with irrational fears...of not doing my homework, not taking the much needed decisions, not being able to reach the mark... Amazingly, all my worries had vanished in a flash at the sight of my 'Santa'. For now, my sister was here, and somehow it made me feel lighter. She'll know what to do about it all, like she did when there was lightning and thunder in our dimly lit room thirteen years ago.

" JEEENGLE BELLSSS!!"
My sister had reached me, and before I could take her luggage, she had already begun her blah-blah-ing. With all her zealous gestures and expressions, she looked like she was a character taken right out of an animated movie.
I waited for the moment to pass and my fears to return. But they didn't. They remained hidden as long as my sister was there...as if she was my patronus to drive away the dementor in my head. And then, looking at her, I realized that the solution to all my problems..... was to have a sister.

Happy Birthday sis :) <3

Robonomics- The Rise of Robots

It was the 27th of June in Japan (And everywhere else too). Yukirin looked perfect in her white laced wedding gown. It was the happiest day of her life, why, she was going to make history! The very first robot wedding! People talked about inter-religion marriages and same-sex marriages. That was old news. Whoever heard of two robots tying the knot?! The humans had had their share. It was now the robots' turn. 

Most of their species had turned up to Yukirin's delight, though she wished the human lot had been lesser. Many of the humans still saw them as nothing more than 'toys'. It was greatly degrading to the robots, but what did the humans know! Ah well, she hoped that her wedding would be the beginning of the robotic  era, one they all dreamed of! But it still seemed very, very distant.

 She stood there on the stage, which was decorated complete with pretty hearts. The humans were quite a nuisance with their loud chatter. All of a sudden, they fell silent. All cameras shifted towards the aisle. There he came... her to-be husband, her one and only Frois! He hadn't worn a suit like she wanted him to, but at least he had the bow on. She had to admit that it went quite well with his natural red attire. Humans said that his kind looked one and the same, with only differing colours. But she knew that her Frois looked way better than the others!

Frois came and stood next to her. All eyes in the hall were on them. Maywa Denki's too, the one who made this happen! She liked Maywa Denki. He was very nice. He understood the robots, unlike the normal humans. After all, it was he who brought Frois into this world.

'You may now kiss the bride.'

Frois pulled out his 'mouth disk' to kiss her. Too many people watching him obviously made him nervous. Yukirin wished it hadn't been that awkward. There was applause and laughter anyway. And the party began. Frois and Yukirin staccato-danced in synchrony with the orchestra. Cutting the wedding cake was harder than she anticipated. But then, it was done humor the humans...they weren't going to eat it anyway were they? 

Maywa danced with Frois's family. Pepper seemed quite busy with the arrangements. Pepper was being very useful. It was he who officiated the wedding. Atlas and Poppy were trudging to the cake, ignoring iCub. Yuki remembered iCub's 10th birthday party, such a fun time! RoboThespian was on his thing again, interacting with humans in all possible languages. 

"Any repairs or battery refreshments?" it was robot Romeo, being kind as always. Frois conveyed that we couldn't be more charged. They heard a slight commotion. Lexi and Tess , the pole dancing robots were performing. NAO seemed quite interested. Yuki noticed one of the humans acting odd. Oh wait! That was Actroid SIT ! Ahh...she almost looked like a human!

Most of the humans were eating. Yuki couldn't get the idea of stuffing 'food' into the bodies. It seemed so unusual. But then, the humans themselves were unusual. When she stood there, watching the flurry of activities, hope dawned in her. Maybe one day, them robots would begin a revolution to fight for their rights. Maybe one day they will have a say too, and wouldn't have to live their lives like toys. Maywa Denki won't need to spend too much for any more weddings then. Maybe the Robot wedding itself could be legalized! 

Ahh...so many wishes and dreams. The topsy-turvy world needed to be straightened. Some humans say the robots would lead to the demise of human race. It is high time they understood that all they want is to be a part of the world, and be of service to the humans. It wasn't too much to ask for was it? Of course not. And they were a 100 times more efficient than the humans. The humans needed them. Badly. Yes, the time has finally arrived. 

Frois swivelled towards her. Looking at him, Yuki knew, that it wasn't only the beginning for her life. It was the beginning for all the robots that were ever made, and will be made in the future. Yes, it was the beginning of the Robotic Age. Watch out humans. We're coming.

Melancholia

I watched my sister run around, packing her bag. She was going back to her hostel after a month of holidaying with us. The thought of her leaving unusually scared me. She came and left every time, why did I feel differently all of a sudden? For the first time, I really wished she did not have to leave. Home was so easy when with her. Except for her constant chattering that irritates me to hell, she's the life of our home. 

The train to Trivandrum whistled away from us, taking my sister with it. An uneasiness crept into me. I ignored it on our drive home. The next day in school, I noticed that the uneasiness hadn't left. I wasn't in a mood to talk and laugh. I tried to hide that too, but a few of my friends asked me if I was okay. When I left the classroom, I bumped into someone. Oh hey, that was best friend. She stepped back to have a good look at me. "You're a corpse." she concluded. I grinned at her, feeling light for a second. Before I could have a free conversation with her something came in between. Why was it so difficult for her to find time for me?

I wandered during the lunch break, and met my old gang. But they were preocuppied. I ended up standing among a group I did not belong to. Back in class, there was something to cheer for - my bench-mates had my favourite food. While having those yummy chapathi rolls, someone came by and took away two large ones...and it was all over in an instant. I know it's selfish and irrational, but I was saddened for not getting more chapathi. I was weirder than usual. Annie, where are you?

I hopped off the school bus. It was raining, only to add up to my melancholy mood. My companion and I were quiet on our way home. I recalled the days we couldn't get enough of our hour-long discussions. I raised my arms,  and let the raindrops meet them. "Doesn't it feel depressing?" I finally said. My buddy looked at me in a strange way, "I don't know." she said, "Maybe it's just you...are you depressed?" I said nothing. Did I want someone to say that to me? 

I opened the door to my house. Mom was in her clinic. I was relieved to be on my own. I started talking aloud, asking myself what was wrong. I found my voice breaking. This was insane. I did not even know what I was upset about! I wished I had my bestie next to me. I wished there was someone I could speak to. But I didn't know what about. I collected some home-wear and got in for a shower. I tried to laugh it off. I probably misunderstood myself.  I pictured myself telling my friends about it all, and how we ended up laughing. I laughed myself, and did not notice the silver line that turned the laugh into tears. 

I let them out, the tears that came one after the other, not yet realising the cause. All I did know that I was a little scared. But I don't know of what. I always thought I'd chosen solitude. But the uncommon visitor had showed up, loneliness. 

All fresh and clean, I came out dressed. Mom had returned with a guest. I had to present myself well until they left. By the time they did, I wasn't in the mood to tell mom about my strange experience. We chatted about things in general. Strangely, it cheered me up as if I was fine all day. Home felt better than school to me. That doesn't happen all the time. Well, I guess it isn't so surprising that happiness lies wherein there is love. And love lives wherein there is a family, one where we can call 'Home'.