Receptions and roomali rotis!

Hello all! I hope you’re all having a good time in your lives, like I have been!

The last couple of weeks have been quite busy, not that I’m not happy about it, but it has kept me from writing for way too long! Good ideas seem to come to me right when I’m in the middle of some important work. Even if I manage to sit down to write, I get something which effectively distracts me from my rarely occurring cornucopia of ideas… So, I decided to jump into the never ending topic of nostalgia this week!

I happened to come across an instrument soundtrack, rather a jukebox of two of the musical legends of India, Raja Sir and Rahman sir when I had my music on random shuffle. I came across “Ilamai enum poongathu” (1982) and “Kaadhalenum thervezhudhi” (1999) and I was instantly transported to my childhood.

Those were the days me and my sister (me more than her most of the times, I was the gourmand😜)greatly looked forward to any wedding reception any member of the family was invited, because it meant we could be the +1! Those wedding receptions gave us great opportunities to wear our favorite dresses, put on the best makeup and we looked like this most of the time, like most 90s kids🤣

Most of the time, we made it there without even asking our parents whose side we were on, the bride’s or the groom’s and so went on stage to shake both their hands and wished them a happy married life. Often, neither the bride nor the groom knew who we were, so they gave us a smile and thanked us. It was mostly a representation of their overall happiness and the obligation to smile in pictures rather than actual acknowledgement of who we were🤣. I won’t blame them though, in Indian weddings, you probably will never know half of your own guests and that’s entirely acceptable😂

Before going onstage, it was absolutely necessary to check the length of the line of people waiting to meet the couple; if it was too long, going to eat first was really acceptable option. I was really happy about that part though🤣Most of the weddings had certain inevitable food items, one of them being this papery white dish.

This delicacy, known as the roomali roti and it was usually served with a paneer butter masala. Other inevitable items included dosas of any kind, a variety rice and a curd rice. If there were more items than we could eat, we used to get different dishes in order to taste them all and our plates would look like this

Looking back at all this, I couldn’t help but reminisce the beautiful and innocent childhood we had (it extended to our teens in fact) and I’m really glad I got to have those experiences and retained some of the capacity to remain happy regardless of other’s opinions even after I became an adult.

What is your best memory of your childhood? I greatly look forward to hear from you all.

Have a lovely week!

From,

Your Random Indian Girl

PS 2

Hello all!

Sorry for keeping my page dormant for this long, but I did not feel like I saw or read or came across something which influenced or triggered me enough to write about it.

And then came Ponniyin Selvan 2 which absolutely made me feel like I should do something about it. Before you read, if have neither watched the movie nor read the book, lot of spoiler alerts ahead, sorry for that!

As someone who absolutely adores to read, I try my level best not to watch adaptations of books because I have been nothing but disappointed in them. I can understand that it is not practical to include everything said in the book in a movie because of its fixed and limited time frame. Moreover, movies do tend to limit your imagination as there’s not much left to perceive or sometimes interpret by ourselves.

Still, movie adaptations are good as not everyone has access to the books and reading may or may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

But, as someone living away from her country, as a measure to stick to my culture, the desperate yearning to hear someone talk in your mother tongue and the opportunity to meet my friends prompted me to go to the movie despite my extreme unwillingness to watch the first part even online.

Yet, upon listening to people say it was the best way for people who haven’t read the story to discover one of the timeless classics of Tamil literature, so I felt I shouldn’t be prejudiced and try to give the movie a chance ( as prejudiced and judgmental as I did feel, but chose not to reveal) I proceeded to travel 2+ hours just to reach the city where they screened the movie (First regret)

I had never been okay with the casting choice, and I don’t wish to go into the details.

But, even as someone who has read the whole series for 7-8 times, even I had problems understanding who was who and what exactly were they doing in the story. I can absolutely fathom the changes made to the subplot of who Madhurandhagan is, but how does Ponniyin Selvan actually justify a traitor who went over to the other side? The former is supposed to be controlled by people around him because he is quite unsure of his own worth from time to time. Then he becomes extremely ambitious and resorts to deception and treachery.

I could accept even that, that might have been a complex subplot to add ( for which they might have had time if they had avoided the unnecessary war scene with the Rashtrakutas, just saying), but what about Nandini? It’s her need to avenge herself and her mother which forms the basis of the story. Without her, the plot goes nowhere. She is the axis of the story. She only feels like murdering her past lover for leaving her and killing a man??? Where was the passion which Nandini had in the books? And she leaves without even asking for her husband’s pardon? Isn’t that one of the most heart rendering scenes in the book?

Why use actors like Prakash Raj for such short scenes in the screen? What was Oomai Rani doing but some acrobatics? What happened to Sentha Amuthan and Samuthra Kumari? Did the lovebirds Vanthiyathevan and Kunthavai get married?

My dear Mr. Mani Ratnam, I know it was your dream project and it took a lot of efforts to bring five volumes of the book on screen. It’s based on the book and not an exact adaptation, I get that too. Why did you have to pick out random scenes from the book and insert them in random places in the movie then? But in your futile attempt to make Ponniyin Selvan seem like the big hero he is, why make a fool of all the other characters? If you wanted to make them appear so worthy of worship, why didn’t you provide any of them with an awesome entrance as provided in the books? Why is there no justification of Madurandhagan actually being skilled in politics which actually justifies the end?

Just questions.

The only thing which I felt was okay with the movie was casting Chiyaan Vikram as Karikalan, he really brought his character and his slow descent into madness to life.

Looking forward to better movies in the future, because come on , we deserve better!!!!

Till we meet again,

A Random Indian Girl who is missing India a lot

I’m backkkk!

Hey all!

I know, it’s not really nice or fair to disappear off the face of blogging for more than a year and come back and say “Hey” as if nothing had happened.

No, it was not just because I was mourning over my mother. I could get over it to a certain extent, thanks to a lot of wonderful things that happened in my life. But, after her demise, it was so hard to even pen down something without thinking about her. I felt so lost and everything I wrote turned out to be remorseful or nostalgic. After a while, it turned into this writer’s block which I could never get over with, no matter how hard I tried. I tried (I even have 11 drafts at the moment), but I found myself stuck after a first few sentences.

This morning, I thought, “Why not write about my writer’s block as a start?”. And so, here we are!

Sometimes, we feel like we were never born to write when we find ourselves bereft of imagination. Sometimes, we feel the thoughts don’t come cascading to us like they used to. We even feel that “that part” of our identity is completely lost.

But, believe me, the writer inside you is just sleeping (hibernating, in my case,since it took me so long to get back on track😜) waiting for a chance to open back up. Try reading your old posts or even try visiting the places which once aspired you to write. Find the happiness inside you before you bring up a smile on someone’s face.

Excuse me for the really small post, it’s been really long since I even thought about writing. I started writing on seeing Mr. James Cameron’s video on sustaining one’s dream of becoming or being a director even if it meant shooting small videos of your dear and near on your phone. Never let anyone or anything impede you from being a better and healthier version of yourself.

Expecting to write again soon🥰

Best wishes and love,

A random Indian girl

Little things!

Hey all! Hope everyone has a better new year than expected. Sorry I haven’t been writing for a long time, I wanted to gather myself enough to have the strength to look back with nostalgia and not remorse …

When I started this blog, I was a carefree college student who wanted to improve her language and remain motivated to write owing to the positive feedbacks and comments from the blog.A lot has changed over the last year and I have developed so many duties and responsibilities that the things which seemed so small and insignificant have gained a lot of importance – little things I forgot to appreciate.My sister- my one and only steady companion throughout my life who made sure I never felt left out from anything and my secret outing partner. Those little confidence boosts you gave were what that kept me going through whatever was happening. By standing by you, I drew the strength and confidence I needed. That small appreciation and smile was all that I looked forward to after I have worked my ass off for something.My grandparents- That chocolate every day when I took the school bus- not a month, not a year or two, but six long years. Seeing their faces, their smile, my nearly blind grandfather look for me showed what love was. He used to stretch his arm out till I touched his and said bye and gave an almost toothless smile in the approximate direction of the hand. I had to call him and tell if I needed any emergency stationery so that he can get them for me that morning and it was obligatory to inform him if I took a day off. My forgetfulness would be paid back by an earful over call that morning, which would be forgotten right after…My father- The way he used to bring home small snacks in the evening to take along with the “high tea”- an evening ritual when we all used to gather in that living room and explain how the day went. That 10-20 minutes before the “study time” used to be a great way to interact with each other. And, how he remembers the small things we tell him and get them for us in the evening clandestinely, hand over the brown paper cover and see the surprised look on our faces…My uncle- The way he used to sneak out and get things when we needed them. He used to work in the kitchen for an hour or two and come out with great aloo paratas or masala dosas, just to see the smile on our face and seeing us eat to our heart’s content. The surprises and the treasure hunts which you planned during our childhood and the small notes you left behind when you went out of station were little things which mattered so much… Pranav- we may not share the same blood, but I used to look forward to the new “words” and vocabulary you picked up from school every day. Despite being a child, you used to notice the little changes in my appearance, be it the outfit or just my nail colour. I used to eagerly anticipate your little head bobbling inside your house every time I dressed up…AMMA- NO words can ever describe what you did for us ma. I don’t even think I can express what you did for us in English despite me having used it for such a long time to express my thoughts. You used to lend a ear whenever we ranted, even when you were bedridden and fighting cancer. I used to tell you my day’s agenda sitting on the dining room floor eating and seeing you through the kitchen door- working and listening, simultaneously with full attention. All of us wanted you to be home when we got back because you always welcomed us with a smile and of course, your favourite cup of tea…All these may seem like small gestures. But when you start living on your own with no one to welcome you in an empty house, all this would matter a lot…In this moment, I would like to thank God for blessing with these little things which made my childhood memorable and my house a home. I’d never change any of this even for a million rupees. I would also love to thank my family for making my life wonderful. Love you all…

A foodie’s self pity:-

I don’t know if I had expressed myself to be a foodie in my previous posts. But I love my food ❤️. Call me a gourmand or gourmet or even a glutton. I don’t mind the time or effort which goes into making it. The end result can make all my woes fly and make my heart throb 🥰
I have been asked the same question over and over:- “You’re a vegetarian. What else do you have except for paneer? Do you even have options other than mushroom or soya?”
Yes, I do. Being born into a vegetarian family and brought up like one, I have a LOT of options. Believe me, a LOT!
Next question, “Why do you keep thinking about food?”
WHY? But, WHY NOT?
If thinking about movies or songs is not wrong, why should thinking about food be wrong?
Only a foodie would realize the happiness obtained by just drooling over imaginary food items 😂😂.
“Is your life’s ambition just to cook and eat?”
If I were to answer honestly, it would be yes. I know what happens when I don’t eat to my heart’s content. I wallow in self pity till the next meal and compensate on what I missed out the last time 😂.
If I were to rate the things which make me happy, which make me incredibly satisfied, reading books and preparing and eating a hearty three-course meal(even if it’s only for me) would definitely take up the first place 😂. Finishing a painting would only occupy the second place 😅.
This is just my perspective as a foodie. Like everyone, I’m entitled to my own opinion too.
So, not eating to my heart’s content is my favorite pet peeves 😅. What’s yours?

Amma…

Ma…

The most magical of words everyone utters…

How will I, a person who writes about the most random things, not write about amma, the best person I’ve come across?

It’s been three months since my beloved mother left us after a 6 month painful battle with cancer. How can a person with great habits like her get a disease like that? Guess I’ll never know…

I was incredibly blessed to have a mother like mine- the one who was strict yet easy to placate. I still remember her reaction when I wrote a short story on how she resembled her late father. After she read it, she kept asking, “Am I really like my father?” She even kept thanking me for this story.

Even when she was affected by cancer, she was very complacent. Seeing a person like her deteriorate in front of my very eyes is a punishment I would not wish even upon my enemies.

It wasn’t our fault. In fact, It is not anybody’s fault if someone near to them is diagnosed with such a deadly disease- never ever say it was their carelessness that landed them in misery. Even if we aren’t able to support that person, at least try not to bring them down.

She was extremely straightforward yet not a rude-a rare combination. She had a way with people. She could convey what she wanted without intimidating or irritating the other person. She was the axle of the family, keeping relationships intact, serving as a patient ear to all our ramblings, and making sure we were well-fed, no matter where we were.
Wherever we went,
Everyone: is that your sister?
Us: no! She’s our mother!
Others: omg! She looks so young!
As her mother wasn’t there around her to look after during her childhood, she made sure she was around to cater to our needs. Though she was a gold medalist in M A performing arts and had a second pg in MSC psychology, it never mattered to her more than us.
Even as I sit beside her bed to write down this, I can’t help being sucked into the vortex of emotions.
” I know I haven’t told this enough when you were around, but now I yearn to tell this ma, I love you. I am really proud to have been your daughter. It was your guidance that had actually kept me going without me realizing it.
It never struck me in the initial days, but now as days go by, I realize how interwoven our lives were. We never thought that was the last birthday you’d be with us. Help me get through this roller coaster of emotions without you ma. Without you, every smile of not just me, but everyone rings hollow.
When you left me with Thatha because of the accident, Gayu said you’ll ask her to sing, ” ஆசை முகம் மறந்து போச்சே” over and over and cry over not being able to be with me. Never thought I’d sing this song about you ma.

I never had the courage to write about you when you were suffering- I felt I couldn’t answer any questions about you. I knew you wouldn’t have preferred that either. I saw your beauty and form fade before my eyes but not your smile. I hope I find the inner peace and happiness that you did and keep my life going as you wanted me to.

A month ago, I was not able to write a single line without having to sit for an hour. But now, I could pen this whole post without struggling -you matter so much. Even though it is really painful to mention you in the past tense, I know this is the reality and I have to accept it -that is how you brought us up. If you’re somewhere reading this, I just have one thing to tell you,” We all miss you terribly!”.
இருந்தாலும் உனக்கு இவளோ அவசரம் வேண்டாம் மா!!😖

Happiness, a gift we never seem to give ourselves

It feels like 2021 started yesterday. But here we are, standing at the almost brink of the year, yet no improvement in our situation regarding the corona virus which took over the reins of the world in the year 2019. What has happened is that the situation has worsened for some and improved for some, but none have completely recovered. And it’s been more than a year since we started working from the comfort of our homes…

At this juncture, a friend of mine started compiling an anthology based on the happiest moments in our life. As I consider myself to be a very happy person, I readily signed up for this. I too needed something to write on, as I was struggling to find topics to write on for my blog. A three-page narrative was expected out of me and being a literature student who has spun stories for pages I thought it wasn’t too big a deal for me.

Having felt this way, I didn’t sit down with a paper and pen (like I usually do). Instead, I took my laptop, told my family I was going to write (which made them very happy, as I hadn’t been writing for a long time then). And I sat there, deliberating, contemplating, ruminating, pondering, yet coming up with nothing but synonyms for thinking!

After two hours of racking my brain and getting a headache, I had typed only a teeny tiny passage with not even 100 words. I felt so ashamed to call myself a blogger or to show my family what I had written. After two or three unsuccessful attempts and wasting almost 8 hours, I realized I was struggling to recall happy moments of my life. If it had been about any bad memories in life, I would have completed it in a jiffy, I am so sure about it.

When I finally racked my brain dry, I could finish the three-page narrative, which wasn’t very satisfactory. Being blessed with an ability to remember a lot of things, I had been abusing it by recalling and ruminating over unnecessary memories which weren’t making me any happier. Being confined to the “so-called” comforts of my home had worsened it- I was ceaselessly thinking over the good times I had before the advent of Coronavirus.

That day, I decided to give myself the gift of happiness- to recall good memories to my level best. The past is great but being nostalgic all the time will take us nowhere into the future! Let’s try to focus on the new year which is to come in two months’ time, and plan to make our lives better in the new normalcy…

Have a great week everyone!

Renewing some superstitions!

There are great too many advice and proverbs left behind by our ancestors. We don’t understand the meaning of some and ward off some as mere superstitions. I had to revoke the decision on one of the beliefs based on my personal experience. And that saying is…..


“Murunga marathula Vedhalam irukum. Athnala atha veetu vaasal la vekka koodathu” (Vedhal, a type of ghost, lives in the Moringa/ Drumstick tree. So, you shouldn’t have in the front of your house) Initially, I thought it was kind of a hogwash created based on the shape of the vegetables and the wind-based dispersion of the seeds.
But, recently, I felt they were indeed right! Not just because the tree is quite hollow and can be brought down by the mildest of winds, but it also invites impostors!
Not being people who believe in superstitions, we had two trees in front of our house. Rather than placing them directly near the entrance, we had placed them a bit far from the door, but within our sight of vision. All of us had a liking for both the leaves and vegetables of that tree, so we decided not to bring it down.
But to our dismay, we found that that tree often draws unnecessary strangers near our house. Living in a locality which is near a village like community, we were already feeling ousted owing to the linguistic disparities. Having this tree was like inviting problems on purpose (Next proverb- Velila pora oonana vetila vidrathu). Note: We were never against sharing the resource given to us by Mother Nature. But the people in our neighborhood never used to ask. In order to get a small quantity, they used to break whole branches without any regret. Even when we ask them to limit the quantity they take during the harvest season, they’d say the tree will always sprout back!

The most important point to be noted here is that none of these people have trees in their household. Leave trees, they don’t even have potted plants! The houses are constructed in such a way that you can actually take things from your neighbor’s window if your hands are long enough! There is absolutely no space for plants. Even if they see a tree or a even a small plant in an empty plot nearby, they make sure to uproot it even when they have so many other works to take care of. They never want to take care of a plant, but they are the first ones who try to reap a benefit out of them when someone else puts the efforts to take care of them.
I won’t say it is totally wrong. At least ASK before you take. And keep in mind that it is someone else’s tree, not yours. Try not to tear it down when you made absolutely no efforts to take care of it. Try growing your own plants from the next time, maybe…

That tree may not have housed evil spirits, but it draw quite a lot of them to our house.

In order to avoid further squabbles in this regard, we have decided to remove both the trees and plant them else where inside our own compound.

Yours,

A Nature lover and enthusiast,

Matangi alias The Random Indian Girl

Aliens with a cloak of invisibilty!

“A girl must learn how to drive!”

This has been my mother’s constant advice since I was seven years old. Being an only child who got sick often, my grandmother had never allowed her to learn to ride a bicycle. After we moved to Coimbatore, she found her inability to drive to be a great drawback as she HATED using public transport. She was unable to go anywhere- be it bank or grocery store. So she prompted me and my sister to learn driving. She instilled the passion for driving in both of us. So, I learnt to ride a bicycle at the age of 9 and a bike at the age of 13 and I absolutely loved it!   It has provided me with a sense of independence and absolute freedom. Even when I felt low out of the blue, going out on a ride and feeling the wind ruffle my hair used to cheer me up.

After getting my driving licence at the age of 18, I didn’t need anyone to chauffer me around. So, my sister and I started going on little trips to nearby places for nature photography as well as the fun of driving.  On one recent trip, we went to Ooty (Yes, only the two of us. We are adults who don’t need chaperoning). As a result, I had written the post “Road to Heaven”.

Ok, what does this have to do with this paradoxical title? I know I am Potter head, but no, I have not come in possession of Harry’s Invisibility Cloak nor am I adept in Transfiguration like Professor McGonagall. But, on this trip, both my sister and I realised that seeing two girls going on a drive, especially in the mountains, is as bizarre as sighting aliens. That means we were stared at, right? Then what about invisibility?

 Some men and women refused to even acknowledge us on the roads. They just crossed the road even though we were awfully close and honking continuously from our vehicle. One man even put out his hand to stop a bus which was almost 50 feet behind us. He raised his hand so quickly that I had to make a quick turn in order to avoid getting punched in the face! The bus behind us was really slow and he could have waited till we crossed him. But, no! He never even shot a glance at us!

Some drivers were worse. When they wanted to make a turn, they looked in their rear-view mirror. Even if we were visible, they took the turn anyway…But the same men had slowed down when they saw other men driving.

But these same men argue when someone does the same to the female members of their family… I don’t know, but did I miss something here??

Once again, I wish to state, I am neither a misandrist nor do I say all women are faultless drivers. Even I have given an earful to some women drivers when they drive without taking the other drivers on road into consideration. But it is regrettable that in a country were women are worshipped, people don’t even respect one. Forget respect, women must be visible before they are given respect!

Let us try treating women better and not stare at them like they are aliens when they like to be free and independent.

Yours in exasperation,

A Random Indian girl in a Blue Activa.

The Lost Hero…

Small precept from last week:- Uma, who loves her father beyond limits sees him die before her eyes because of his long term health issues. Her mind churned with all the memories… [Link:https://randomthoughts725641202.wordpress.com/2021/02/14/my-first-hero/%5D

Brought up in Madurai which was one of the hottest cities in the state, he used to fan her and rock her till she fell asleep. Once when she was down with jaundice, he used to ride his bicycle for almost 15 kilometers daily to bring her a packet of sugarcane juice which was not available nearby. As he was working for private organization, he had to rush back immediately before the stipulated lunch time. After he returned from work, he always spent his time beside her. One small moan from her was sufficient to wake him and provide her with something to eat.

She recalled all this as the relatives were recalling their time with him- his honesty, his straight forwardness, his optimism and so on. He had never refuted any of her wishes- not that she had many. But he did raise her in a strict manner. His relatives always held him in high praise while speaking of how he took care of his daughter. In fact, it was the goal of many to bring up their daughter/son the way he did.

But she couldn’t afford to collapse, could she? Her father would have expected more from her. She got about organizing things. She didn’t have the luxury of slipping into oblivion and lamenting the loss of the man she looked up her whole life.

The events- the final rites, the cremation got over in a daze. She was trying hard not to fall apart or cry for the sake of her family. If she cried, it meant she had come to terms with the fact that her father was no more. Even when her daughters tried to bring her out of her shell, she constrained her tears. She knew her daughters were scared, but she took some time to get in touch with reality.

A month after all this, Uma was going about, doing her regular household chores. Her daughter kept looking at her. Uncomfortable under her gaze and the tears in her eyes, Uma asked, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing ma” she said immediately, wiping her tears. “You are doing it just like Thatha”. Saying this, she left immediately, unable to restrain the copious tears flowing down her face.

At that moment, Uma felt maybe her father wasn’t gone after all. He still lived through HER- her gestures, the way she spoke and carried herself.

At that moment, she realized- there would be tears, there would be times when she missed him terribly. But she knew she’ll live through all this because that was what he’d want from her. He’d always reside in her as a voice of hope. His words, “This too shall pass” will help her in all the difficulties she faced.

Now, after two years after his death, one can see the beatific smile in her face as she faces all her troubles. She was not just her daddy’s delicate little princess, but a brave and strong woman who could fight the whole world with the optimism he had left behind with her.

And of course, the most magical of all words,

Appa…!

P.S., This story is my second attempt at short stories. If you feel there any changes which you would like me to make, please feel free to let me know in the comment section..