2021...A Rewind ❤️

I was scrolling through my gallery for the last picture(s) to post on the last day of this year, it has brought me such myraid of memories : the house-warming of our new apartment that had been getting procrastinated months together for abrupt reasons, the certain second wave that hit us leading to postponement of my very anticipated exams, the countless number of times I tried to chocolate banana cake to get the perfect recipe with its crumble texture that melts in the mouth, yet another lockdown birthday I celebrated with family as I grew a year older, juggling between two cities for varied reasons, infinite pictures clicked against the soft montelimar wall of my sister's room, taking physical and mental health into consideration and making baby steps to make it better each day,  hording coffee mugs of all shapes, sizes and colors because it made me happier, taking the 20 minutes of "me time" with my mug of chai when it's almost twilight whilst those birds chirping, making their way back to nests, independently handling those restless events and acing it like a pro amidst the incessant downpour that lashed the city day and night in mighty digits (1044.35 mms), the number of phonecalls I've made to my close friends seeking for comfort whenever I felt down.. 

This year has had its ups and downs & I'm fortunate enough to have broken even with it all.

I've suffered in a way I never hoped to again, I've made some amazing friendships who've become too close to my heart. 

What lies ahead in the coming year are new cities, new worlds, new people and places. I would wish to go into. 2022 as the same irrational & suspicious spirit, with some short tempered sass on the side, with a silly sense of humor & witty personality, the person that always finds joy in unusual places, they always sees a glass never empty, that finds positive in any given situation, that occasionally needs a swift kick in the ass to get going, that who still love stranger, spread kindness and try my bestest to be one hell of a human that I always wanted to be.

Here's to the best pictures of my 2021

Wishing everyone a healthy, wealthy, joyful and prosperous 2022🎉🎈

Aromas of Nostalgia

Isn't it strange how  certain smells become a part of your being and any time, you even remotely encounter them, you pause by for a moment and recollect moments that bring back memoirs of time when growing up was all about us basking in the simplest pleasures of childhood.

The heady lingering smell of the Mysore sandal talc, that my mum has been using for ages now, its sweet, warm, rich, woody persistent whiff gives me a sense of comfort and belongingness, almost like a cozy hug. The smell of the earth following the first rain of the season - so invigorating and so full of hope. 

The divine aroma of freshly made sandalwood paste,  kumkum, incense sticks leaving out scented wavy fumes as they dissipate in the air as they burn, camphor, diyas burning in ghee, chrysanthemums and marigolds inside the temples that make the whole environment so serenely beautiful, reminds me of those childhood times when sister and I along with mum visit the Ayyappan temple nearby our home every evening as a daily ritual. 

The smell of books, I love rustling through the pages of new books and breathing in deep into its aroma. I don't if many do but I  love the pungent chemical smell of petrol for it reminds me of those days I used to accompany my dad to the petrol station to get our bike tank filled.  

The smell of hot oil in which fluffy pooris are being fried till golden brown, the smell of pastry straight out of oven always reminds me of coming home to fresh bakes. The smell of washed line dried crisp clothes that encompasses the whole of summer and childhood in each wonderful breath.

The mystifying floral fragrance of tree jasmine that makes me reminisce playful and worry less school days during monsoon, the waxy sweetness of a new box of crayons - exactly how my nose knew it was the first day of school, I loved watching my mom’s winter regime which always ended with, her slathering Pond’s cold cream on her face every night before going to bed. I can still recall the clean, strong, flowery smell, deeply refreshing and satisfying.

Masala chai that carries nostalgic memories as if the past has infused itself into the drink. The warm, sweet, milky tea laced with aromatic spices and ginger brings back memories of cozy and lazy winter mornings and long chats on rainy holiday afternoons. The heavenly waft that's imminent from melt in the mouth ghee laden sweets holds the promise of extravagant delights and festive banquets. The smell of chalk on a blackboard have always transported me to my early school days. The aromas from our very own kitchen's masala box is another treasured smell. The zingy cumin , sweetness of cinnamon , oomph from those murky mustard seeds, intense smell of peppercorns , robustic flavours from the bay leaves , the punch of garam masala and spiciness of chillies that evoke a sense of home , comfort and delight which is just so Indian. 

Rainy evenings ushered in the spicy aroma of onion, plantain and aloo pakoras sizzling in hot oil brings a smell that warms your belly and soul, pleases the olfactory and salivary glands alike. The smell of tadka, as the spices hit the smoking oil is so satisfying to the soul that reminds me of being welcomed home after a long day and of wonders that are homemade. 

Aromas are so distinct, so humdrum and so meek. 

As an adult, it's overwhelming to be taken aback to those moments, reliving the happiest and most cherished parts of life through memories and the fragrances I associate with them. I believe all of us have this tiny bundle tucked in somewhere that takes a teeny tiny bit of sniff of all these aromas and fastens them in cautiously. On some days, the bundle presents you a peep into it and you lazing in your pyjamas, sifting through profuse memories while the pleasant aromas of nostalgia take over. 

A Lifetime Of Memories

Soooo this morning, I was lost in thoughts on how the first five months of the year hurried in a whip whilst lounging on my balcony swing, having my dose of mid-morning sulaimani chai. I was quite taken aback down the memory lane by those moments that played out as reminders of stories I had almost forgotten. Hence I decided to give it an acknowledgment.  

Memories gushed down like a breath of fresh air pondering how a typical May-end - June used to be, not soo long ago when my sister and I were school kids & how the kids today who are locked in their homes for almost two years now, reluctantly made sit in front of a laptop attending their online classes are missing out in their life!

A major chunk of the school kids inclusive of us would find their way back home only by the last week of May.

The following days till the commencement of the school used to be so boisterous. 

Sister and I always and forever had got brand new school supplies each year (grateful for the parents we're born to). Right from going on a shopping spree and picking up our essentials such as bags that are new in the market, lunch boxes from the Tupperware which always had vibrant colors to choose from, water bottles that had pictures of favorite cartoon characters on them, with all glee and giggles amidst a dilemma if to choose the blue or the red one, to carefully choosing the name labels, to getting the bounded textbooks delivered home, to helping mom and dad by cutting up bits of fancy adhesive tapes that had to be stuck on the corners while they're gingerly wrapping up our notebooks with crisp glossy brown sheets (and smelling them - I love the smell of new books, don't you?).

From getting our new pinafores stitched from the local tailor to packing our stationery pouches with glossy glitter pens and Parker pens with ink cartridges, to planning the lunch menu for the first day of school. The night before the first day of school had always been a melange of emotions - a tiny bit of distress that you got to wait a whole year to get another holiday this long, a whole lot of elation because you're going to meet up with your fellow mates, with a bit of anxiousness (that you shouldn't sleep off snoozing your alarm clock😜) and run late on the reopening day!

The first day of school would be nothing short of a celebration for us.

Mum would wake us up a bit early since it was the first day - she'd make sure we get ready on time, eat a proper breakfast, do a little pooja of sorts at home and visit the Ayyappan temple nearby our bus stop. It used to look so lovely with bunches of pretty kids, here and there with their colorful uniforms, waiting for their school buses. The day at school would start with a prayer meeting where The Principal addresses, welcoming their children back to school for yet another successful academic year. 

As soon as it gets over, we'd rush back to our classrooms, excited to know who our new class teacher was, also to know who all have left the school, and of course to eagerly meet the newcomers.

What would follow are - introduction of ourselves and how we spent the vacation. The lunch scenes used to resemble more like a potluck, each of us, bringing their mum's signature dish (my friends' most favorite dishes of my mum were - pulav with spicy potato roast.) and sharing it with everyone. Of course, the evenings remained the same, of us going back to our homes and sharing every detail of what happened in the class with our mum and dad. And the routine continues...

And when my musings were interrupted by the horn of the truck that passed by the street, I realize that nostalgia makes us feel something that we haven't felt in a long time & we just feel back at home and that it reminds us of people, of childhoods, of random forgotten moments and of things that would stay with us, as a part of us ❤️

A Treasured Reminiscence

The aroma of freshly brewed filter coffee, the gorgeous azure bay of Marina, the finest dainty little cafés of beasant nagar crouched by the sea, the pleasant devotional songs that are played in those ancient temples, “The Higginbothams”- the book house that is known to hold almost every book from nook and corner of the world, the central railway station, a coat of arms since early British period in madarasapatinam, known for its infamous crowd and noise now, the hustle and bustle of the Koyembedu market and mainly chicken 65 (why? Because the recipe originated in Chennai😉) and what not.? The list is extensive to be penned down on a piece of paper or a blog! The aforementioned scrap the surface barely amongst the multitudinous things that flash in my mind when I hear the word Chennai, or rather Madras.! 

Being ruled by the British for almost over two centuries, the English men had truly left their influence upon the city through their colonial grandeur and a melange of architectural elements that give buildings of Madras, a historical aura with the antique touch of the British! Be it the Madras high court, or the St. George's Fort, the first English British fortress built in India or one of the archetype examples of neoclassical architecture, the Ripon building, the cathedral built by the Portuguese, the famous San Thome Basilica or the ever dynamic Spencer plaza, where everyone bounces along for shopping ( the one which you're going to hear about). 

When someone states that it is difficult to find your way out of the mall, I would bet a dime on it confidently! Being built in Indo-Saracenic style of architecture, Spencer Plaza is nothing short of a maze! I have been to that plaza innumerable times, yet I would stammer when asked for directions in a jiffy!! 

There was a time, not so long ago, when this mall was the only mall and the most happening place in the city! It grew to be the most loved hangout spot for “the madrasis” (as always addressed by the rest of the states) and slowly developed to be the entry point of discussion on the advent of Western culture in the city!

This mall housed the shops of almost all prominent brands including that of foreign brands way back in late 1990s and early 2000s. It had these countless tiny shops that were confusingly laid out across the walls selling antique silver earrings, quirky nose pins and so on. There were also shops that sold imported leather goods at affordable prices that catered to all classes. The mall also had Kashmiri handicrafts sold across the mall. Along with some emporia, pashmina shawls, small wooden carvings and rug carpets. Gujrati handicrafts and Kutch pieces also would line the windows if several shops. 

What would welcome us at the entrance of the mall would be large air-conditioned doors with a gush of fresh air. Many a weekend or rather majority of my holidays were spent wandering through its castle like labyrinthine corridors, sitting in the atrium and devouring Bombay/Calcutta chat items, engaged in some wide eyed window shopping; Sometimes it would be jay walking through the book stores with my sister and cousins or lazing around the basement and queueing up for sloppy softy cone ice creams enjoying its warm, vintage charm. The plaza holds numerous memories that everyone who had visited the mall would hold as souvenirs. I guzzled up my first pizza rich with cheese there; My first jaw-widening burger bites were in the mall; My first escalator ride was also in the same plaza. 

The interior of the mall used to be filled with lovely people, who are neat, well mannered, gentle and pretty helpful that one can’t help but fall in love with each one of them instantaneously. One can effortlessly spot NRIs and foreigners who never cease to pause and smile back at us or even have a chit chat at any given point of the day for it was their go-to places in Madras. 

Weekends used to be chaotic. The guards used to shut the gates of the entrance and open only at regular intervals because the mall used to get over crowded instigating intervention of police a lot of times. Harry Potter books were launched there and countless music albums were released at the same plaza including the film openings that used to come there for movie promotions. Cricket teams used to stay in a nearby star hotel called Taj Coromandel and would visit the mall to shop!

Just when people were lazing in the fame of the mall, it had a major fall. Newer, fancier and larger malls mushroomed across the city in a span of 3-5 years, making the major brands and retailers move their businesses out of the mall in the wink of an eye. In addition to this slow decline, there was a major power crisis in the city that brought the mall all negative publicity, which the mall wasn't prepared for (since it was built many years ago, and it had no alternative situation for that kind). 

Time whizzed away, most of the mall's gleam were lost, with the place even considered bordering on dodgy.

I still believe, till today, there are things over there that are commendable but gets obscured by whatever gold painted coals are laid around!

The mall that was once a totem, that once had only foreign visitors right after they land in Chennai, has lost its lustre! The lesson that everyone can infer along with its memories and sail-through epoch would be that everything fades away eventually; the name, the fame and the honour if not valued in the most pious manner is bound to be whisked away like a will-o’-wisps.

My quaint little town

Right after I got my hands on my UG admission, I was quite excited about my new hostel, experiences and everything that the medical life had to offer. My roommates and I were just the same when it came to our affinity towards the family...
I could still reflect back to those vivid memories to that crazy evening of 26th July 2011..
We were those 18 yr old kids who bid bye with a toothy grin like we finally set our foot on a place where we really belonged! Alas, all that we got back from the parents' side was a intensely emotional teary bye...
But then, exactly ten minutes after they left back home, we came to the realisation that our parents had left us in a really new environment. All that my roommate and I did was to look at each other frown faced still managing to console each other..
We were really really homesick..but owing to the hectic medical school schedule and long tiring travel hours, I could go home only when I got more than a couple of days leave, putting up the majority of my days in the hostel!
But the super pampered kid that I was and still am, my parents never miss an opportunity to come down and meet me, which was a mandatory ritual on every birthday.!
As days went on and on and on.. Tadaah, 4.5 years had gone by, the same way.. There were those days I enjoyed being with the bunch of people who got the same ambition as mine, there were also the days were I  ended up sobbing and sick for being far from home..
Somewhere down the lane, I thought that it would change by time , but then I was proved wrong.
Everytime I went home on a vacation and returned back, I had this strange feeling of not wanting to go back but had no option!
Then I realised, I wasn't troubled by homesickness, rather town sickness, maybe!
Many a times, people do ask me as what made me wanting to flee home and never go anywhere but stay there during holidays..
Well, I was born and brought up in a typical suburb, which is very famous for its silk weavers and bamboo home decors since eternity.. Where, a mere walking down the busy hustling bustling road infuses your nostrils with the aroma of the coffee beans that get fried and powdered by an old thatha whilst gingerly adjusting his glasses in that quaint little coffee shop that's been running for almost eight decades now, the concurrent clinking sound of the glass chai cups along the flavourful aroma of the beautifully brown hot ginger chai getting poured in the local rajasthani shop, also the appetizing spicy aroma of the yummy seekh kebabs and drool worthy tandoori chicken and fried chicken... And ofcourse , fragrance of the freshly plucked and tied flower strings!!
My place is just a thirty minutes drive from the main city and a couple of hours away to the most happening cosmopolitan hitech cities of South India.
The feeling I get here is something that I would never get on any other place and believe that this quaint town has got life than any other place on the earth. Like any typical suburb, people from all social classes are in peace.. It is place where you can never get lost because the roads werw constructed in a way that they are at 90 degrees to each other. This town still houses streets, ancestoral homes and temples that are there for more than two decades!!
I've ran through the streets of this town making my mom run behind me while feeding food. I've fell down and still cycled the whole residential town stopping by and collecting bright orange gulmohars blooms and fiery red hibiscus and what not! I've grew up eating the pani puris and kachoris sold by the marwaris inherited as their family businesses who were here since their ancestoral period. Trust me, I've been to Bangalore , Mumbai and so on.. But no where could I find the taste that matches with this. !
Summers here are scorching hot where temperature shoots upto  40 degrees, Monsoons are always the bestest for they fill up the rivers and you can also spot brooks if you're lucky enough! In winters, the temperature drops almost upto 13 degrees where a typical winter day would be gloomy with fog and mist swarming your way in the mornings and mild breeze during the noons..
Everyone has a happy place in their life as this  is mine, as someone rightly put it in a song that goes - sorgame enralum adhu nammoora pola varuma..!

International Men's Day

The day conceived in 1991 and inaugurated in 1992, was initiated on the grounds of 6 pillars, namely
mental health awareness among boys and men, promote positive male role models, focus on men's health ranging from able bodied syndromes to well being of physically challenged to improve gender equality (that means FEMINISM)
to create safer, better world for boys and children to grow in the future
to applaud men's contributions to the improvement of social, economic and political stature.
This year's day has been promoted for creating awareness about MENTAL HEALTH ILLNESS AND RISING SUICIDE RATE AMONG TEENAGE BOYS & positive male role models along with awareness for Testicular cancer.
Sadly most of the men out there lack this fundamental knowledge on why this day was instigated. Most of them cry out this day as an equal agenda that marks international women's day. How pathetic! Women's day was born out of the embarkment of women into  political, social, economical ladder against all odds and Oppression forced on women by society, that was and is predominantly patriarchal.
Now they feel the need to eschew this symbolism by pertaining to a desperate hope of establishing a men's day and calling out all the unfair justice or increased suicide rates in the recent past, which are not be comprised at any cost. However the reason for all those were not women. It was the patriarchal narrow society that the very men found that has grown into a ginormous rat trap that is self mutilating the society. Now they want to have a men's day.
It's the common popular cis-crocodile tears; crying for the supposedly unfair one parking spot allot for the differently abled people despite having the entire parking lot at their wake.
This men's day was established to fight against TOXIC MASCULINITY and thereby the patriarchal society that defined HOW A MAN SHOULD BE TOUGH AND HARD AS STONE WITHOUT CRYING .
International Men's day was one of the many calls that has been blow to support that MEN CAN BE WHOEVER THEY ARE. MEN AND WOMEN ARE EQUAL. MEN CAN CRY AND STILL BE MASCULINE. THAT MEN DO NOT, AND SHOULD NOT HAVE TO HIDE THEIR VULNERABILITY AND ACT TOUGH BECAUSE OF SOME SOCIO-ECONOMIC ABSTRACT DEFINITION OF GENDER THAT HAS SURPASSED THE PURPOSE OF DEFINING AND RATHER TORMENTED MEN FOR AGES TO ACT ACCORDING TO BASELESS AXIOM
So, my fellow men, May you have a very great international men's day!!
But please oh please know why it is celebrated for?
Fight against Toxic masculinity
Fight for equality
Create awareness for mental health illness, that the society has triggered for boys and men create awareness for testicular cancer
Know what and why you have a day assigned for you.
Happy International Men's Day.

Diwali Musings

3..2..1..and hooray!
Happy Diwali to whomsoever going through this article.
Diwali has always been one of those fondest memories for people like us, rather those under the tag "90s kids".
As I sail across my twenties, I am compelled to reminisced the way this festival used to be celebrated, when juxtaposed with the newly adorned bylaws to celebrate the festival. As subpar as the festival have become, with the regulations that are announced forth like the All India radio advertisements of early modern era and so called promised convenience that this modern era was said to offer.
I remember when the few preceding weeks of Diwali would be the time of the year that used to be steps to the crown of the celebration. The mothers at home would start preparing lots of sweets; Savories that would last at least a month, would slowly start to accompany the lunch 'dabba' of the kids in every household. The days we used to exchange our boxes to taste those sweets as kids, still tickles my taste buds.
The typical Diwali day would start with 'amma' waking us kids, with the most gratifying smile on their face, followed by the traditional 'yennai theichi kuliyal' (Its a ritual in the Tamil household on the day of Diwali, where few drops of gingely oil would be massaged onto the scalp before one takes bath with refreshing sheekai powder); Then we would be adorned with new clothes and accessories following which, we all together have the never changing Diwali breakfast (I'm sure you would have guessed what it is). We would then light up the looooong incense stick (believe me, it is as long as thigh bone or even more) which is a saviour for most of the people like me, who used to be scared of crackers. even to go near the cracker. This bursting of crackers ceremony would extend till late night with intermittent breaks in between for a sumptuous lunch and scrumptious dinner. Amidst these celebration, there would a silly game, where we would go around the street, compare the houses, for the one with the maximum amount of the newspaper bits (that are rolled inside the crackers) is the winner of that street or complex, for more paper bits correspond to more crackers.
Eventually the days flew in the wink of an eye. As I grew up, I saw the diyas, those traditional little oil lamps, being replaced by multi-coloured fairy lights hanging above the windows. Even bursting of the crackers have reduced owing to the new norms/rules and being attracted to the term - go green; to have a pollution less Diwali and so on.
And by the time I entered my medical college, Diwali to us only meant an ultra short vacation to 'visit' home, to be surrounded by family and if at all possible, to taste good food. The circumstance changed even further as I set foot as a house surgeon where I was posted in the Emergency Room night duty, handling cases like electric burns to accidental finger amputations from severe RTA to diabetic keto acidosis for the whole 12 hours of duty that kept me on my toes, without being able have a five minutes coffee break. And when you're finally relieved by the duty doctors who take up our jobs for the morning shift, as we walk through the halls of ER with our head held high, only to realize that it was a Diwali night and how much we've missed not being home or the discern that we do not regret it in the slightest, because of what we chose to be..
Moving out of the college, and having crossed 20s, things turn still more strange, as those kids whom we've known from our pre-school have grown up to be practical adults, most of them had left the country for bigger fortunes and others were doing too good in life to be able to find time for an old tradition. As I conclude this article, I am haunted with a slight flavour of helplessness, as my sanity says that nothing is gonna be same, like the way it used to be and I only yearn for those days with a hundred 'what- if's' in my mind.

The Cry

I can hear someone cry..,
But it is getting lost..
In the heavy rain outside.....
It's hidden,
In the howling of winds
Who could it be,
Crying in the midst of night?
Fear dancing all around
Crying for someone
To save him from this condition??
Could it be a mother,
crying for her only hope?
Crying for a helping hand?
Or for the one who is no more there??
Or due to some human cruelity??
Or someone crying to forget,
The olden days' memories.?
It could be nature
Crying because of humanity..!
Crying bacause of pollution.!
Crying for existence?
Crying for protection?
Crying for love?
Or could it someone,
Whose name is lost.,
Dignity is lost,
Guardian is lost,
Love is lost,
Hope is lost,
Everything is lost,
Because of communalism..,
Because of cruelty
Crying for everything
That is lost
In the heavy rain,
Hidden in the howling of winds,
Lost in the night..!!