Monday, August 28, 2006

BULLY MAAMIS

My brother's wedding is finally here.

The house is bursting in its seams with guests. Actually, I am just hyping it all up. It still hasnt but it sure will soon.

But a wedding can be tough. Not just on the bride and the groom but for everyone. With all the dynamics one has to manage, you either need to be a master juggler or just plain pretentious.

How else can you manage a bus load of people- each one opinionated about everything and anything?
I came home just yesterday and have been meeting a lot of relatives. As I move from one to another I mapped out an imaginary questionnaire that I was filling out for everyone.

Akila's exhaustive list of TAM BRAHM BULLY MAAMI'S LIST OF CONVERSATION TOPICS.

The following is a check list of questions which will be asked when a cart load of specimens called tam brahm mami's meet me.

Lets start out with the ladies. The ladies/mami's/aunts have to, I mean really have to, start out a conversation( even without saying a hello, how are you?) with a remark about my looks.

The minute you meet an aunt/female relative, the first words that invariably falls out of her mouth will be," Oh you have changed?"

While one aunt was talking about how dark I had become, the other one took it upon herself to review my nose piercing. Innumerable correlations were made in the mind about nose studs and fashion.

The next most comment you are bound to hear is, "Oh God, you are not wearing any jewels?"

People who know me well know that I hate wearing chains/bangles/bracelets of any sort.
In the past two days the only time my mum spoke to me was when she called me aside and thrusted a chain into my hands and said, " For God's sake wear this. "

Until a few years back when I was wearing a bindi regularly, my dad's friend paddu uncle's aim in life was to tell me how to wear my bindi properly.

Well, I wear a bindi in its minimal form- just a dot or a line. But even that was a point of contention for Paddu mama. He wanted me to wear it at the point just above the point where my brows joined- just at the exact point where it looked hideous on me.

Till date he squints his eye to find out where my bindi is.


Then the mother of all topics- my height.

Okie I am short. so what?
Okie I am way below the average height a normal person should be. So what?

My mum's elder sister walked in and looked at me and said " Oh you should grow taller"
What a grand opening to my day. I am 23 years old. According to science, after you cross 20, you usually dont grow taller. So here I am all of 23 years, when my aunts feels I should grow taller. Why not?

I looked at my mum crossly and said ," Can you please tell people I cant grow taller than this anymore?"

Discussing my height is like a pet topic for a lot of people. I take after my dad who is short. His who family is always gushing about how short my grandmom was and how short my dad and I are.

While people are on the height topic, my height is the benchmark.

"So, is kuppamma taller than akila?"

" Is her sis in law taller than her?"

"Is suppamma(who in most probability will be in her 8th std) as tall as akila?"


And to add fuel to fire, I was standing next to a cousin of mine who is way shorter than I am. She suddenly looked at me and shouted to her son," Look, Akila has grown taller". After coaxing her to shut up, I convinced her that I was just the same height when I left two months back.

While I was in Chennai, my brother, sis in law to be, uncle and aunt landed from the states. They were a jing bang by themselves. Add/subtract a few more, we formed a whole village when we went shopping. Everytime I landed to go shopping, the whole jingbang would rate me on what I wore.

The verdicts were anything from " Oh the bharthiya nari" , if I wore a salwar kameez to
"You have changed. You are a metro girl now", when i wore a pair of jeans.


The whole race of tam brahms is obssessed about commenting on looks.



After they have exhausted all possible ways to comment on how I looked, the next inevitable topic(apart from asking about how I am faring in my job in Coke and giving a cynical smile) is about my vocal stylings.

As a Tam brahm child, I went through the stage where my mum was competing with other mums regarding my upbringing. So I was put into music classes for a whole lot of years.

I learnt for almost 5 years after which I did what I was good at - quitting. I mouthed the words I QUIT.

But my relatives have short term memory. They remember the days when I learnt music but conveniently ignore the fact that I have stopped singing.

The tam brahm ladies in their kanchipuram sarees are nothing short of bullies when it comes to this. When you learn music, they bully you into singing for them. They then correct even the smallest mistake you make and when you stop singing is when their real fun begins.

Imagine this. You are sitting in a pooja with a lot of other people and when the time comes for sangeetha seva,(I am wondering in my head, if sangeetha seva(i) is actually a type of sevai(a tamil delicacy)) all the mamis/aunties who are musical exponents shut up and one random bully maami will call out " Akilaaaaaaaa, why dont you sing?"

I would look around for the other Akila who they are calling, only to realise to my dismay, I am the only Akila in the room.

The next degree of torture is when they take it upon themselves to ask me why I had stopped studying music. Some even give me a motivational speech( a la shiv khera) so that I can realise that my aim in life is to study carnatic music and make my race proud.


The next most entertaining activity of the mamis is to offer me strings of jasmine flowers to wear. I am quite moody about flowers and I very rarely wear flowers.
But in the tam brahm way of life, it is a sin for a girl to not wear flowers.
It is a bigger sin, (of the order where you will be burnt in cauldrons of oil) if you refuse flowers offered by bully maamis.

The bully maami will offer you a string of orange kanakambaram flowers which no person in her right minds will wear(it smells sick and is bright orange/violet in colour).
If you refuse, then the wrath of the God and the bully maami will burn you down.

So when I was a kid, I tried the refuse and be burnt down route, but to no avail. Then I took my lessons from days of bargaining for autos. When the bully maami approaches me, I first try going out of sight. After she hunts me down, we debate on the length of the strings of flowers. I will offer proof of how short my hair is, inform her that I have no clip etc and we finally come to a compromise and I take the flowers from her. After she is out of smelling circumference, I take a walk, find an empty table/chair and leave the flowers on it.

I realised today, that I am quite low on brand value in the tam brahm bully maami rating scale.

I have done an MBA and not an MS.

I am still in India and dont work for a software firm.


I work for Coke which according to most people is more dangerous than Mahim beach's sweet water(which might have been sewage according to few scientists)

I cant cook.

I cant sing.

Last overheard a few relatives were talking about the next big PROBLEM in my father's life: Finding a groom for me.


The mohalla is set for the mehendi function. Now it is time for maamis to showcase to the world that I have two left feet.The wedding will bring on value additions from kuppa, suppa and muppa about most things under the sun- ranging from the way I walk, to my sari colour to my jewels or rather absence of jewels to work to home to size of my bindi to length of my pallu.

Bring it on baby... Cant wait for a marriage hall full of bully mamis.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

A quiet sunday evening

I passed through the Aiyappan temple on my way to work everyday. I have used it as a landmark when I haggle with the auto guys. I kept promising the Lord I would come and visit him sometime. After almost 3.5 weeks, I went to the temple.

As I stepped in, I felt like I had almost forgotten how it felt like to be inside one. I havent been to a temple in ages now. There was almost nobody in the temple. That is when I love to visit temples- when most people stay away from it. I will never be found in a temple on a crowded/spl/festival day.

Had a handful of payasam, went around the place and left.

As I walked out, I felt glad. I was glad that I was in a city in which I was not an alien.

I took an auto and found my way to the Santhome church nearby.

The Santhome church, is one among three churches in the whole world, to be built on the same land as the tomb of an Apostle of Jesus. The two other places are St.James basilica and St.Peters Basilica(Rome).

I went in. It was almost 6 yrs back when I had last stepped into a church.

I walked in. Not knowing where to sit, I used the Hindu principle- the spot closest to the deity. I found myself right in front.

I gazed at the statues of Jesus and his two apostles and almost naturally I started chanting "Nivasatu hridi bala nitya kalyana sheela" , the words that Kanchi bala periyava had taught me.The chant that I said whenever I passed by a temple. the chant that rose to my lips whenever I was in front of God.

After I finished the chant, it struck me and almost naturally(and of course foolishly), I wondered if Jesus would understand me. There I was, wearing the sandalwood prasad from the nearby ayappan temple, chanting my nivastu hridi, in a church.

I saw a few people walk right upto the altar. I was not sure if I was allowed to do that. How many times have you got past to the main shrine in a temple??

I waited and watched what people were doing? It was not like I had never been to a church, but this one was very different. I stopped a lady and asked her if I could go to the altar. She said "Oh yes, and the tomb is right behind". Oh shucks, I had forgotten about the tomb.

I walked upto the altar and found it strange standing in front of the Lord with my slippers on.
On going nearer I found that The Lord there had been given an Indian touch. His robe had names of devotees all over it.

John Elias, jack, christopher...etc have been delivered from all evils because they have written their name on the statue of the Lord in Santhome church.

There was a door at the back which lead to the tomb of St. Thomas. The borad outside said "footwear this side". It was okie to wear the slippers in front of the Lord but not in front of his apostle I thought.

I climbed the stairs down to the tomb and sat there for a few minutes. I racked my brain for a hymn/chant that I had used in my 14 yrs of convent education and the only one that managed to come up was hymn that I had sung in Choir for St. Teresa of Avila. Not bad. better than Nivasatu Hridi bala , I thought to myself. I hummed it and found my way back to the main church.

As I walked out, I started thinking about what my experience had been in Chennai...

(To be contd.)

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

I wish

In the past few days while I was at work, I found myself thinking almost several times in a day, I wish....

As a child, I was not let into any of the secrets at home, for my parents knew that I would never manage to keep a poker face about it.

Birthday gifts, surprise dinners/parties- I wasnt told about anything till the last moment. Let in the brat and she will giggle and spoil the secret, they said to all.

I wish someone had taught me to lie straight faced.


As a child my parents taught me to be sincere. They laid endless stress on being truthful. I wish they had laid a little less stress on that.

I wish someone had told me that it was okie to lie a bit.

I was taught to be straight forward. I was taught to be ethical.

I wish I hadnt taken them so seriously. I think that I am a bit too ethical and straightforward for my own good.

At home, there was always the stress on what others thought about us.

I wish I didnt take others so seriously as I do.

I wish my education had included impression/image management as a major.

I wish I didnt wear my emotions on my face as often as I do.

I am jinxed. So jinxed that whenever I plan something, it never works.I wish I could endlessly plan and not be worried about whether my plans will work or not. I only wish I could realise the joy of seeing my dreams in real.

I wish I could dance. I really do.

I wish I could stare at the sun.

I wish I could walk in a straight line.

I really really wish I could speak slower.

I wish I didnt feel so bad when I realise life is moving at a pace faster than I am.

I wish I could just close my eyes tight and pray enough for my wishes to be granted.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Have you ever stood on the edge of a railway platform.
And when you are standing there on your tip toes, the train suddenly whizzes past you, trying to pull you with a force which you ward off by backing a few steps?

And after those few steps back, you think how stupid an action that was to stand in the edge of the platform. Yet, several seconds later you cross the same edge and step into the train which had whizzed past you. few minutes later you are whizzing past similarly stupid people.

Now that am in Chennai am trying to reach all my old friends. Chanced upon a friend today. She announced a few minutes into the conversation that she was getting married.

Simple enough. 23 yr old girl getting married was fine. Nothing unnatural about it.

Just that fact I have known her almost all my life, since the time we wore pig tails to school completely freaked me out.

She went on in the same breath to tell me that another friend of ours was expecting a child in a few months time!

That did it. I went into what Anish calls the retarded mode.
I called amma for help.

I called all friends possible and announced the news. I was happy for both my friends.

Yet, there was this feeling that I was standing by this platform and life just went whizzing past me.....

For the perfect drink- add water, sugar, concentrate and pinch of pesticide!

So what am I upto these days?

I am travelling like crazy. I am travelling to places whose names cant be pronounced my co intern.

I am acting as his translator- his window to the rest of the world- by deciphering what people around him are talking in tamil. In the process am also getting him beaten up by conveying the opposite of what he means.

He wanted me to tell the cook that the food was good and that as they say in North India" Unke haathon ko choomna chahtha hoon". Well in South India no one kisses anyones hand for good cooking. They say usually put it as "I will buy a golden bangle for the person who has cooked such great food." And the prospect of my friend kissing the cook's hand was beyond imagination. So I told blankly told the cook "Murthy Anna, Anish here wants to make a golden bangle for you". Murthy anna gave Anish a dirty stare. Last I heard, Anish's coffee had no sugar!!!!

Ya, and as the news mentioned yesterday, I am also adding pesticides to my drink!

People who have visited the plant, often ask us at the end of the plant tour, " So where do you add the pesticides?"

There are friends who message me now, (who havent messaged in ages), "oye, kya be... whatzup! I heard you are adding pesticides". Ya I just walked across the road, bought a gram of DDT and added it to Anish's coffee when Murthy Anna missed adding sugar to it.

As I saw this particular social worker cry herself hoarse on National TV, I couldnt but help my sessions with my social worker roomies back in TISS. The saner ones of the lot, who happen to be my very good friends, would hear me out fully though they never fully believed me.

I was always seen as the blood sucking corporate, adding pesticide to a drink and making millions.

I had this conversation with a very close friend, whom I would label- intelligent.

Akila: " So you think soft drinks are dangerous"
Friend:" yaya...very much"
Akila:"Why?"
Friend:"Because , hmmm, you know it is carbonated and causes stomach disorders"
Akila: " so why do they sell soda on streets?Isnt that supposed to give ease from stomach troubles?"
Friend:"Ya, but they ARE DANGEROUS"
Akila:" okie, but why?"
Friend: " No da, they add this substances to it, you know... its bad"


Several you knows later, I convinced him of what I thought. I think he agreed with me because he wanted me to stop talking!

My roomie from TISS had demonstrated outside the Palakkad plant. Knowing her, I asked if she truly felt for the issue? She said she was more fascinated with the idea of doing a dharna than anything. They were a group of budding social workers who had visited the Plachimada plant.
The minute they got down from the bus, the organizers invited them to shout slogans. And there it was in the papers next day- TISS STUDENTS PROTEST OUTSIDE COKE PLANT.

I think they forgot to mention somewhere in the column that coke recruits regularly from TISS!!!

If only this Nation would for once lend a ear for scientific facts, eye for details, a sense of logic.

If only it had a will of its own.


As I watched the news item on TV, I could almost imagine the consumer on the street thinking twice before picking up a drink- why? its got that stuff you know.

I could almost feel the nation swaying under the spell woven by the social worker.She claims that she is fighting for a cleaner nation.

I think she is just fighting for another 15 mins of fame.

The next time you drink/dont drink a soft drink- just remember drink it/dont drink if you want to. Drink it if you feel thirsty. Dont stop drinking it because someone is asking you not to drink.