First a Human

Our stay in Mysore was short and sporadic with perhaps  a dozen or more trips to Bangalore to see Appa in the course of a year. In between  the two cities, a house of some sort had to be run with its share of Domestic Helps etc. As always, Domestic Helps come in all types and colours.  Some are  talkative,  some are sullen and come to work with a long face, some want to know everything about the new employer. While in Mysore, at first obviously I had no idea of the quality of their work. But one thing, I learnt pretty fast.... the Bais or vellai kaaris in Mysore are extremely dignified and  decent. Roopa, a young woman of thirty five or so came to work with heavy references. A smiling, cheerful girl... she once asked me what my children were doing. Mysoreans have a quaint way of  figuring  out one's social and ethical variables through this one  question which says all. I told her I had none expecting the usual sympathy or curiosity or any of the zillion usual responses.

  Instead, Roopa said in a very dignified manner that she was sorry to have  asked the question. I was impressed that this smiling girl from a different background should have such finesse. Over time, Roopa stopped coming and started sending her aunt, an elderly woman to work in my house. For some unknown reason, like many new servants generally are, this woman was slightly wary, hostile and resistant., vaguely disapproving. The language barrier did not help any.... I wanted to reassure her that I had no intention of harassing or overloading her physical fuel tank.  She spoke a dialect of Kannada , not very commonly spoken or understood.....once, there was also a slight fracas and she told me that she would not wipe the dining table. I was also upset and there was some underlying tension. So I thought it was best to step out of the way and let her do what she want. I soon found that her work was very good ; she would scrub and  clean till vessel and floor alike sparkled.  She was also extremely punctual...would turn up on the dot. This silent, single, woman..... Roopa had once mentioned that her aunt had not married but she regarded her aunt as her mother and therefore she lived  with her. Workwise Roopa was not great but her sense of family and bond impressed me.

   Mahadevamma, as she was known also settled into a a slow, steady rhythm, her work of shining quality and silent sparkle, very much like the  sturdy resilent woman herself.  The woman who had once sullenly refused to do a small job out of  sheer cussedness was now literally snatching the duster out of my hands to  do the job.By nature very systematic, cooordinated and thorough, she would not shirk or skip; a perfectionist to the core. Scrubbing vessels was not a tedious, hasty chore but a silent, steady worship in the altar of Work. She would weave a steady rhythm in the scrubbing and rinsing with quiet commitment, totally immersed and totally engrossed. Time stood still while vessels gleamed. Once my husband also commented whether there was any need to wash for so long. To which I replied that I had not set her to work at the vessels. Deepawali came and I got sweets for both Roopa and Mahadevamma. In her decency, Mahadevamma remarked that it was enough to give one one person...Roopa

Soon the time came for us to leave Mysore...we had known this all along. The decision, necessary as it was, was heavy on our heart and mind....the delightful little city with its dainty, clean shops and people had enchanted us in so many ways. We could not come out of the spell it had cast on us ...Mysore's picturesque landscapes, its vestiges of royalty, its spiritual  landmarks and temples...above all its numerous parks all had firmly etched on our mindscape. Mahadevamma also came for her last day of work .... went about her work with usual thoroughness and dedication....no indifference or casualness. It was an usual workday for her....no matter we were leaving the next day. Work was her soul; her sustenance

 After she finished her work daily, she would normally leave asking one of us to latch the door. Today however, she did a huge Namaste to both of us individually and stood silent for a long time as if she wanted to say something but could't. It was a heavy, poignant  moment hanging in space waiting to be picked up. and shaped by human hands. The three of us  just waited in silence as if afraid that the magic of the moment would disappear.  It was almost as if she wanted to say that I like coming to your house to work... now that you are going... this ends.  A chapter ends for me as also for you. Tomorrow  we go our separate ways. The unspoken empathy filled me with a sense of destiny and the truth that all good the present  is all that matters...things like our stay in Mysore must come to an end. So many happy experiences; so many happy memories in a quiet charming little city, where one had the time to savour and the sense to distill and discern,,,,, Valuable and  enabling lessons  for the Examination called LIFE.

I had lot of pending jobs....so I stirred. Whereupon she left wthout looking back, No request to latch the door as if afraid that words might shatter the silence of the unspoken. The moment vaporized into atmospheric particles; I wanted to chase and snatch the moment to keep and cherish it. But it had disappeared for ever without a trace.  The fragrance remained, invigorating my tired body and energising my sleepy senses. The memories of Mysore will always remain but the kind, quiet empathy of the silent maid  are verdant mental-scapes which will nurture and nourish me forever and ever on tired , long days.

A short Stay and big takeaways.

Some months back, my paternal aunt, Padma Athai as she is affectionately called, came to stay with me in Bangalore. She is a super senior citizen but young and brave  in heart which is how she was able to undertake singly the long flight. Padma Athai  is a very sociable person and has made many good friends over decades of my uncle's professional life; some of whom have almost family like ties with her...they have stood each other  in good stead whenever needed. She finally settled in Delhi to be close to her daughters  but here also she has maintained a set of friends in a relationship of healthy and happy give and take. She independently manages her routine; among which is one of cooking herself  I have known her to set aside and send portions of some special dish that she has prepared at home to friends on occasions or also because it happened to be their favourite dish. Dishing out friendship along with her delicacies is something which comes naturally to Athai.

                I was wondering how would she spend her time in Bangalore. She however had her plans. She has meticulously maintained the phone numbers of all the people whom she wanted to meet in Bangalore.  She started calling them up systematically....the tag line was simple and short. " I  can't come over; but you are most welcome to visit me".  Many people came to visit her, with a home-made sweet or savoury, with love and affection stirred in and infused with care. Athai herself had taken great trouble  to bring fragrant Agarbathis, the incense of friendship and colourful shawls which she presented to her  friends. And very specially for her dear elder brother, home made delicious red carrot halwa. Athai and friends caught up with each other, traversing distant  memory lanes. There was so much of catching up to do, so much of information to be shared....and cooking tips.....Athai is a good cook.  The camaraderie was good....the vibes, positive.

                 Athai's friends were diversely talented people, with interests in music, cooking, scriptures etc. Everyone had an experience, a journey to share. I have wondered at Athai's ability to make friends even with a youngster. Many a time, she tells me, her friends have been wooed by her dishes and meals.  My house became the House of Friendship: a community cutting across generations converging in response to a telephone call of friendship made by an elderly lady.

            Athai had not stepped out of the house. Yet she had reached out and extended a friendly hand. The roads in Bangalore were bad and crowded but the Roads to Long Lasting Friendship are not long and bumpy. I was surprised and touched at what little it takes to make people happy. In this case, Athai's efforts to convert phone contacts into physical meetings. A hot cup of tea offered with a warm smile and warmer heart is all that it takes to build bonds of empathy and affection. In turn perhaps, more caring human beings and a better society.  Definitely Food For Thought.

Padma athai's 90th

 Padma Athai's 90 th birthday lunch event was a   very informal,gathering of family and friends to felicitate a very warm, affectionate and multi-talented lady  with a wonderful family.

The Kuratthi and her kuravai Kutthu

Kamala was a Bharatha Natyam icon and a role model for every Tam Brahm girl inclined to the fine arts of classiscal music and dance. Tributes have been pouring in from all quarters for renowned Bharatha Natyam dancer Kamala,who passed away recently. Watching her perform live made every girl long to emulate Kamala's movements and expressions. Such was the power of her dance ....it swept the versed and unversed into a flood of a dance extravaganza. It was the year 1970. i was a ten year old....a Me Too to the Bharatha Natyam art form. My father was in the Faculty of the Indian School Of Mines; my mother a homemaker, trained in Carnatic music and nurturing fond artistic dreams for her daughter. My voice could not lend itself to the manouevres and modulations that the Carnatic style demanded. The next best alternative was dance... I was also inclined to the dance form because where Sangeetham could not find a path, my knack for Talam and Rhythm paved the way for Bharatha Natyam. It was then that Kumari Kamala . as she was always known came to Dhanbad in Jharkand to perform a claassical repertoire....and what a performance it turned out to be for the sheer brilliance of the Nrittya form and the musical choreography. So I started learning Bharatha Natyam from a teacher who came from Calcutta to teach children Of the Coal Belt. But there was no soul in my dance.....even I realized it. My feet just padded to the Thai Thayi beats of the teacher who punctually turned up once for classes in two weeks . The dance classes were routine and drab...the master taught sincerely and pedantically. He could not however inspire and kindle the creative spark; it was mundane,lifeless and just that.It was at this juncture that Kamala burst uopn my Dance world like a meteor blazing a trail of sparkling brilliance. I almost remember her performance as if it happened only yesterday. Kamala darted with fleeting, dainty, tiny steps from one end of the stage to another. She was here and she was there.....ingum irunthal....angum irunthal. Around the time of Kamala's performance,my Dance Guru changed. I started learning from Shri K. R. Radhakrishnan, Nattuvanaar and Dance teacher in the Ramiah Pillai baani. Kamala had also trained in this style and she faithfully adhered to this baani. Now when I think back, I realize destiny had a hand in the whole matter. Guru Radhakrishnan had also done Nattuvaangam for Kumari Kamala for a period of time, Also he had a deep sense of quality music and padams.. the lyrical Tamil songs soaked in metaphorical love and devotion to the divine Lord. Coming to Kamala' performance, I watched in spell-bound awe as Jathiswaram followed Alarippu... then onto a Varnam, padams and an electrifying Thillana. The varnam that day was the grand, majestic yet rarely known Swathi Thirunal Dasha Ragamalika composition Kamala Jaasya with the lyrics fitting into Adi Tala with mathematical precision. I was not much immersed in the soft, subtle Nayaki Bhavas of the Padams but the crisp, catchy, Kutrala Kuravanji dance from the verdant Pothigai mountains made me sit up. It was a light, tacky song- Pachamalai Pavazha Malai composed aptly in Raga Anand Bhairavi. The dancer, a disciple of Kamala admirably danced in a jaunty, folksy manner to this lilting song. I sat through, completely captivated and spell-bound, admiring both the gaily coloured,bold check patterned paavadai with a matching blouse, her beads and pearls as well as the dancer's raunchy whirls and twirls. The next day, after my dance class, I requested Shri Radhakrishnan rather hesitatingly to teach me the Kuratthi dance. I told him how I had been totally taken up with the kuratthi experience... that the song and dance were lodged in my inward eye. The sport that he was, Guru Radhakrishnan taught me in a very short span of time, the dance with modified steps compatible with a beginner's ability. Wonders will never cease. I got a chance to perform Pacchai Pavazha Malai on the stage, complete with kuratthi dress and paraphernalia....strings of chunky and gaudy coloured beads and the kuratthi hairdo which like Andal's is coiffed to the side of the head with braids of flowers and beads adorning it. My mother sang Pacchamalai Pavazha malai melodiously to Guru Radhakrishnan wielding the cymbals in staccato Nattuvaangam. Kamala's performance kindled a spark in me; a lifelong love and passion for the fine arts. My dance life was short...but the learning experiencewas evolving. The lyrics of the transformative song Pacchamalai Pavazhamalai are loosely translated as follows: From rocks of coral'n' vales of green, lush and plush with dreams complete, from the land beautiful of the Tamils, do I, Valli,come with secrets to share and a future to tell! With a spring in my step and a stringed garland in my hand, do I dance ...THAM THAM THAKAJONU THAI THAI THIMITHAKKA THATTHOM THATHINTHAKKA THOM THOM....THATHINTHAKKA THATTHOM.... Oh TAMILNADU... the land of milk and honey;of learned and creative people, to its deep and dense jungles, where tuskers and wild life live in harmony with nature That land of golden paddy and sweet honey, to forests of monkey entwined trees and gushing little streams of sparkling crystal water; Do I, Valli, consort of the gracious Lord Muruga, come with a spring in my step and a song in my heart, to aspire the company of the learned and blessed,of the wealthy and the wise..... THAM THAM THAKAJONU THAI THAI THIMITHAKKA THATTHOM THATHINTHAKKA THOM THOM....THATHINTHAKKA THATTHOM....