The power of gossip

I remember those nights, when we visited relatives during summer vacations... Women of the house would complete their work for the day and huddle up for a siesta. But that is the time they would catch up on gossip.

As kids, we would be around, not officially part of the group, but yet there, listening in. No one shooed us away.

And, strangely, instead of making us bitchy - okay, it did make us bitchy too - it also taught us rights and wrongs in a way a parent can never teach a child.

Today, we don't like gossip - okay, okay, officially we are above gossip - but we have no means to communicate rights and wrongs to our children, to tell them how to handle different situations. Theory can never work, it was through case studies that these little lessons were passed on. Now we deprive our children of these classes. Are we right, or wrong?

This thought was triggered when a friend of mine called to complain about a close relative of hers. After a minor, common surgery, that relative was kicking up a fuss and her mother was unable to cope. My friend has children of her own, preparing for exams. She cannot step into the relative's mother's role.

But as they thrashed this issue at home, my friend's elder daughter - also a fusspot - learnt a valuable lesson. The pain of having fussy relatives.

Parents can give lectures, and then feel frustrated that their children are not listening to them. A gossip has the advantages of being exciting, indirect, and long-lasting because more than one viewpoint is shared.

Long live gossip.

Shrinking world, longer distances

Aeroplane, train, bus, car, bike.
Wired phone, mobile phone.
Internet.

All have shrunk the globe. Today, a person living across the globe knows what's happening here within the second. One can travel to the other side of the globe in a max of 48 hours.

And yet, the distances between our hearts have become longer. The sense of belonging is much less, and we have but a few minutes to spare for our friends and relatives.

Is this what growing up is all about?

Is it worth it - this growing up?

To leave people behind, to leave friends behind, to leave family behind, and think only of the self?

Cartoon of the day: A 2-yr old sits up in the bed and says, "I discovered a truth today. I am the centre of the universe."

Where is the time?

Once while interviewing dancer Alarmel Valli (on phone), she mentioned how as children they would travel long distances by bus and walk to attend the programs of senior dancers like Yamini Krishnamurthy, watch the entire show and return late at night. The context we spoke in was different, but I loved the image she created and I could visualise large groups of people of mixed ages walking at night, with not much street lights, but bonded by one purpose, one interest.

I couldn't help wondering...today, streets are well lit, we have personal vehicles - 2-wheelers, 4-wheelers; we have more public transport and more venues even closer to home.

And yet, sabhas are almost empty when shows happen - regardless of seniority of the dancers.

Over the years, we have lost what they had - time. Where does it go? Why does the mundane become more important? Are we less interested in the arts - of any form? Except movies today, nothing else can make us leave our comfort zones to visit a theatre to catch up on a play, a dance performance or a music concert. Our children expect to be entertained or fed as the rare show we attend progresses. We cannot wait for the 10 minute recess between two programs.

Have we lost the ability to appreciate the classical art forms?

What are we passing on to our children?

Leisurely journey

Naadvaibhavam - a musical program by 5000 singers, organised by the Art of Living in Chennai. My mother and mother-in-law were participating as singers. Srikant would be there, of course. My father and father-in-law too. I opted out. Managing two children in an expected crowd of 1 lakh would be a challenge. But as the day approached, I wondered...other young children were participating. Shouldn't my daughter at least witness it? The ambience, energy, the experience...

I decided, and was relieved when a neighbour, Anubha, also expressed interest to come.

Then started the worries from the family. "Are you going to drive that distance? Traffic will be horrible! Parking, impossible!"

But how could I come by the local train - which I was not used to at all - with a 7- and a 4-year old.

But as I took the car out, Anubha said, "I am there, let's give it a shot."

The adventurous spirit raised its head in hope. Kids would love the train. I have company, and my kids are comfortable with her. She is a mother herself...why not.

We did it - took the local train. It wasn't easy since there is no station nearby. We took a train that terminated a station before my destination, so we had to change platforms, trains. Then cross at the level crossing - no overbridge.

When we returned, there was the negotiation with the auto that ended horribly.

But, what I remember and cherish is just the journey back, the cool night breeze as the train speeded, the strangers - women - around, and yet the smile that women share so easily. My daughter sat on some lady's lap near the window though there was enough space around. And though Anubha and I walk every evening in our complex, just sitting down and chatting - transported me back to my college days when we were not bogged down by any cares.

Not that I have cares - but there is always the rush to reach a point and get back home, dinner and lunch to be cooked, kids to be minded...some deadline to be met, or just sometime in front of Facebook...

In the train, with the engine driver worrying about driving the train, no traffic or pollution around, I longed for another such evening to come.

***

My holidays are usually paccckkked. But in Mirvana resort, 55 kilometers from Jaisalmer, even in September, the heat compelled us to be indoors - in-tents. And then the long drive to ride the camel on the dunes...the camel cart ride another day to a village. Such leisure and peace...with just the farms and the greenery around us (for a desert state, there was much too much greenery last september)...Those are the moments that linger in the mind.

The Sound of Music

Last program sometime in August had been a crash one - with just 3 weeks to practice, learn a new varnam and get on stage. When my legs stiffened, my mind blanked out on what next. Thanks to Crocin, got on stage. But what made me confident of dancing was the opening invocation that the musicians played out. Just closing my eyes and letting that music soak me was enough to forget all earthly bonds and physical limitations. The last mile didn't seem such a challenge.

Last evening, the tension was no less. My old enemy, a catch in the back, caught me just as I was leaving for orchestra rehearsal day before yesterday. Myospaz to the rescue, and I at least practiced in a way that gave me confidence.

But on stage, the tension is different. You cannot relax as you can even on the penultimate day. No water breaks, no phones to distract, no gossip in between to rest your legs.

But what you have is the ambience of the auditorium, the very personal space you can create and the music - nothing but music.

As the Violin, Mrdangam and the vocal come together to start the invocation, the dim lit auditorium and the darkened wings where I wait...with the spot on Lord Nataraja in the front left of the stage...I can't see him, but can imagine him there, with flowers around, a lamp and some incense stick. They are enough to transport me to another space.

That is the moment the magic happens, the soul connects with the one supereme and forgets what the body can or cannot do.

As the program progresses, the throat does dry up, the body does beg to relax. But in between the items, the violinist plays a tune. Just let that music soak me again, and I am back, ready to see the evening through.

What better healer than music?

The Silence of the Geese

One of the first concerns we had when we moved to the current apartment complex - aptly called The Nest (as we later discovered) - was the noise the geese made. Geese? The complex shares a wall with the TN veterinary research institute and houses geese, and poultry of other forms. My husband Srikant's concern was that they would make noise and disturb sleep. But, it just became part of our background music since 2006.

In the last two years, we have paid greater attention to this neighbour. We first discovered a crow's nest very close to our balcony. While watching them, we became aware of other birds - parrots, white migratory birds, kingfisher, woodpecker...

Maybe because children need us less, my husband and I stand in the kitchen wash area that overlooks the institute grounds and spend long hours gazing at the varied birds and the animals that we see there. Deer, snakes, mongoose, squirrels, birds of all types (http://www.facebook.com/album.php?id=1161404038&aid=2043683).

Treepie was a completely new variety for us. Then recently, we saw very tiny green birds that live inside branches. Yesterday, we saw sparrows - which have become a rarity in Chennai. And while clicking what we thought was the smaller variety of sparrows, we found a bird of a new kind! Honeysuckle, maybe.

But last two days, the geese have fallen silent. They are not there anymore. They have been shifted to another location. Because, the ground is now part of Metro Rail project. A station cum office is what we are going to have for neighbours.

My heart bleeds. What will happen to the deer? We see samples of so many bird varieties - will they abandon us? Where will the snakes find ground for cover? Will the eagles hover lower anymore?

I try to tell myself - when Nest was being constructed, maybe these brids had taken fright. But as the dust settled they returned. So will they return once the metro rail construction is over. I hope they have enough trees to return to.

The Kind Lord

"Our leader, true to his name, has proved that he is the epitome of kindness," said a minister who got two minutes of glory before the Lord walked on stage.

The crowd clapped. 'They had better,' thought the show manager, 'they are paid to do so.'

The Lord took out his notes and ran through it before facing the crowd. Just a glance from him made some frenzy with delight. "Our Lord, our Lord!" some shouted, and not just because they had been paid to do so.

He raised a hand and all fell silent.

"We are pleased to see you assembled here. Our aim has been to work for our people. We are proud to announce that this year alone, we have distributed 50,000 gold coins amongst the poor, arranged for noon meals in 3000 villages, built homes for the poor in 300 villages, and free medicine delivered to 500 senior citizens in families with no income."

A roar of approval went through the crowd. He looked up and smiled. His brother had no chance of breaking through this popularity, he realised happily.

He raised his hand and without dropping it, roared in return, "Why should the poor slog and the rich enjoy the fruits of their labours?"

The crowd was ecstatic. As he finished his speech and stepped into his golden chariot, the crowd went to the waiting bullock carts and packed itself back into the seat.

"Yes, why should we work?" each asked and on returning to their villages, they registered with the village head to benefit from the schemes the Kind Lord had announced.

****

"My Lord, we cannot find masons to build your palace," said the soldier, trembling.

The Lord looked up. "Did you mention it was for me?"

The soldier hung his head, fearing to say yes.

"How dare they!" he roared, with the same power he had displayed on the stage.

"Sir," the soldier trembled. "The masons are ready, but they do not have labourers. The carpenter guilds have designs, but no carpenters to work. The clothiers have the materials they imported, but no tailors to stitch the curtains, and the goldsmiths have gold, but no acharis to craft the designs."

The Lord fumed. "They don't fear me?"

The soldier feared him. He said, his voice shaking, "You are the Kind Lord, sir."