A Game of Elastic

Suddenly, I remembered this game I used to play as a kid. I realised that I had played this when under 13, in Delhi, but never in Calcutta. And yet, it had kept me occupied even when I was alone, using two chairs to place the elastic around.

It seemed like a new game to teach my daughter and her friends. But, I didn't remember it properly. So I went on the net, very sure that it would be impossible to locate anything on this.

To my amazement, I discover that it is a game popular in China, and there are several videos in Youtube - not only of children playing, but even adults, and not only Chinese, but even Caucasians. There is one of three ladies from New Zealand - it brought my heart to my mouth. It is played differently from what I remember, and also called Chinese Jump Rope. There are multiple levels, the elastic being pushed up from the ankle to the calf, knee, hip and waist levels. Our complication seemed easy enough when compared to theirs - they try to jump over the elastic at all levels! All we had to do was to cross the elastic without any part of our body touching the rope!

In the evening, I met a neighbour  who had spent her childhood in Delhi, and was thrilled that she had played it too. I think between us, we will be able to revive the game!

Interestingly, in one of the videos, someone had posted, "An attempt to preserve an old game that is dying because of the media!" My thoughts exactly.

Anubavangal: Nyabangal

Anubavangal: Nyabangal: சிறிய துளிகள் பொட்டுப்போல் மேலே சொட்டுச்சொட்டாய் விழுந்து எழுப்ப சிறிய சிறிய நினைவுகள் அந்த அரக்கு நிற பேனா தோட்டத்தில் காய்க்கும் கொய்யா,...

Growing Up : Part III

When I reach out the top shelf to take out the box with Bournvita packet in it;
when I call up the grocers to place my order for the month;
when I make a snack that my children relish;
when their friend comes home and enjoys a dish I made;
when I decide it is time to throw the old shoe out;
when I wonder if I can wait a day more before taking the children to the doctor;
when I give advise because someone shared their problem with me;
when I explain a concept to my child;
when she hugs me out of the blue;
when he teases my hair and grins;
when my hubby consults me on a decision;
I wonder, when did I stop being the little girl;
turning to my parents, my siblings, my elders for advice;
when did I become the elder;
the adult someone turns to;
for the little girl peeps out still;
wanting assurance, guidance and mentoring.

Wishes for The Festive Season

Somehow, if one were to place a year on the balance, the months from August starts weighing down. There is an excitement as Ganesh Chathurthi sets the tone for festivities to begin.

Navaratri, Diwali and then a quieter Karthigai followed by bright lights again for Christmas and Pongal.

And then it dips again in Feb-Mar, to peak again in April for the entire country to celebrate the Indian new years. May-June are passable, exciting only for the summer vacation.

Though July has its own festivals to boast of, it still seems like a gloomy month. August and Sri Jayanthi and Avaniavittam sort of remind one that any moment now, the celebrations will begin again.

Is it the weather, the bright lights, the Navaratri visits and the general bonhomie? Is it the new clothes, the promise of sweets, the off days that add to the fun?

Here is wishing everyone a happy festive season... 

Anubavangal: Mithappil oru sthiram

Anubavangal: Mithappil oru sthiram: நூறு கனவுகள் கண்டாலே, ஆறு கனவுகள் பலிக்காதா - ஒரு தமிழ் பாட்டுல வரும். இந்த நிமிஷம் வாழ்க்கையே கனவுல மிதப்பது போல இருக்கு. ஒரு பக்கம் ஜலத...

Dream Come True

Prabhat was excited about his promotion. He had worked hard for it, he had worked hard for the job in fact. And now he was a senior manager. He could do with the increased income. With a son to educate and a daughter to marry and no inheritance to fall back on, every penny he earned would help. His wife Kalyani had been a prudent housewife, saving every penny. He had tears in his eyes as he thought of the sacrifices she had made. She had never demanded anything, and so he had never had to find unlawful means to make extra money. He had ensured that the contracts he granted as purchase manager were transparent, above board. No obligations anywhere. No possibilities of a black mark. And that's why this promotion a few years before it was his turn.

The years flew. His children were in a good school. Of course, peer pressure was difficult to deal with. The computer games, the expensive clothes, the car they got dropped in - though his wife and he tried to instill a sense of pride in simple living, it was a losing battle. So there were compromises. For your birthday, we will get you the watch - but no barbie dress, Kalyani had to tell the daughter. If it's beyblade for you, then no xbox - Prabhat had to negotiate with his son. But you got new games only last month, which you have not even touched! What do you need Life for!!

The worst was when his children cried about being dropped on a two wheeler. All our friends have a car and a driver, they lamented. At least a second hand one, they cribbed. Prabhat gave in reluctantly. He was finding the two wheeler difficult too as he aged, and balancing the two grown up kids. But it would have served a while more. Second hand was not a bad idea, and so he checked out. Of course, after the initial excitement, the fact that it was second hand did become a dampener. But a second hand car was better than no car at all.

Prabhat and Kalyani worried that their children had aspirations beyond what they could provide. But, to look for a new school...

Son was keen on engineering. Prabhat was thrilled. If his son could crack the IIT, nothing like it. He put his son for IIT coaching. Over and above the school fees, the coaching fee was a drain. But his son was happy, and Prabhat optimistic.

His daughter, not very keen on studies, had found her mettle in sports. Hockey. Prabhat worried. How would he find a groom? Will the dowry go up?

She remained stubborn and without his permission, joined the school team. He heard of it first when there was an additional fee to pay. There was a showdown, but he had to give in. He hoped she would outgrow it in a year or two.

He waited for his son's IIT results with bated breath. If his son got through, it would be a first in the family. He was disappointed when his son didn't get through. But with all that preparation, he was sure his son would excel in board exams and so getting through another premium engineering institute would not be difficult. His heart stopped when he saw that his son's marks were just scraping through the current cut off.

His son sat dejected. But I want to do engineering, he said. His father ran from pillar to post. He talked to his colleagues, and finally realised that many had paid a capitation fee that was beyond his dreams to get their children an engineering education. He was against it. He tried talking to his son. Do science graduation and then specialisation. But his son, though not being stubborn, became listless and dejected. Kalyani worried about the boy's mental state. Prabhat's getting angry did nothing to improve his mental state. His classmates were going to study engineering. Only he wouldn't. Reluctantly Prabhat paid the amount in lakhs that an IT course demanded.

In a year or two, he worked to refill the dent in his savings. He didn't like to think how he did it. His blood curdled at how he was signing substandard suppliers to make a commission that would help him breathe easy. His daughter threw a bombshell two years later. She wanted to try for state level team. When he refused, she sulked. If it is a son asking for something, you will give in blindly. But daughters... she left it hanging. It was unfair, her accusation. He had never denied her anything. But she taunted him with that time and again. He conceded reluctantly. But if her trying for state level was not bad enough, to qualify, she had to pay a few lakhs. Or else, there would be others who would get the place even if she played well. Some others, who didn't even turn up, who had a clout which he didn't have.

To make good this dent in his balance so that he could provide her with a good dowry... 

Prabhat was no more the man he had been. He was a very worried man.  But not for long. Soon he became an expert at covering tracks as he pocketed commissions that he maybe didn't even need any longer.

Anubavangal: திறமைக்கு ஒரு சவால்

Anubavangal: திறமைக்கு ஒரு சவால்: நேற்று ஒன்று கேள்விப்பட்டேன். எனக்கு தெரிந்தவரின் மகன் கூடைபந்து கால்பந்து விளையாட்டுகளில் மிக ருசி வைப்பவன். சிறு வயதிலிருந்தே இந்த பந்தயங்...