A lot of stuff has happened to my family over the last month. I won’t go into it all here but it has really made me think about family. We all get along. Yes, we have our differences and we argue, but it’s the dynamic of our family. The events that have happened recently have helped to show my parents how I have grown up and how I react to certain big things that happen in people’s lives. It’s shown them and myself how I cope and how we can all support each other. It’s taught me how protective I am of my family too!

It’s also made me think deeply about how we make family what we want it to be. When people leave we re-adjust and we create siblings from the people around us. It’s not all about blood. I have so many close friends whom I would consider family – brothers and sisters. I know I’m lucky in that respect and I hope they would consider me in the same way. It’s nice to meet up with a friend who you haven’t seen in ages and be able to be comfortable and pick up from where you last left off.

I like that I can choose my family both from blood, marriage and friendship. I surround myself with people that I love and am there to support them and they support me. At this stage in my life, I didn’t think I would meet new people who I would consider in this way, but I have.  They are people who I would see myself being friends with for years and years to come. They’re my kind of people, and it makes me feel blessed.

It’s weird. I got married 5 months ago. My friend’s sister got married 11 months ago, and now my friend (whose sister I just mentioned) is getting married in 2 months.

In 20 years, 10 years, 5 years, possibly less, we’ll look at each other, tell our kids, and spouses and selves, that we all got married in the same year, what a short time, what a shared experience.

But living in it now, it’s not at all like that. It seems like forever. That her sister was married and settled so long ago, that I got engaged so much after that (even if it was just two and half months) that I had a long tortuous 4 month engagement, and while I was already engaged my friend dated about 6 guys, sagas included, before she got engaged 2 months ago.

There was so much life lived during that time, so much differences, so much anxiety, happiness, waiting, hoping, wondering, aspirations, ifs…on all our parts, that were unique to ourselves.

…and I’m not sure when it becomes all relative, but there’s a big difference between someone married 1 week, 1 month, 2 months, 6 months, a year…   and between the 3 of us, were living in different time-zones.

So in years from now, when we’ll say “Ye, we all got married then, all around the same time, same experience” I think we’re cutting our lives short.

Or maybe that perspective years later, will give me perspective on the one I have now.

Sister: What is the function on 24^th morning, related to Sneha’s marriage?

Brother: Some function. When are you coming to Bangalore?

Sister: :-)    I see that there are tickets available for 23rd night – Yeshwantpur Express

Brother: Have you booked the tickets?

Sister: But it reaches Bangalore at 9:45am. Will anyone be home then? No haven’t booked yet. 171 tickets are still available. I will book in the evening when Prabhu gets back.

Brother: You will get only ‘Side Upper’ berths. Book fast.

Sister: Internet booking, we invariably get side seats or last compartment…  But will anyone be home if I come at that time?

Brother: Granny will be there.

Sister: Anyone with her?

Brother: Rashmi – our maid servant.

Sister: Ok…

Brother: Don’t your kids and hubby have Christmas holidays?

Sister: 25th to 3^rd - for Shruthi, no idea about Smruthi’s holidays. Prabhu has it on the 25th and 1^st.

Brother: As of now only 168 seats are available. Why don’t you book in an A/c coach? Isnt it better? The doors are closed. You will not have the fear of kids running out of the coach.

Sister: My fear is someone carrying off Shruthi when she is sleeping. But as of now Prabhu is also coming.

Brother: Weird fear factors!!

Sister: I know… but if it is there it is there. kya kare…

Brother: Ok. That’s the only train. Try to go to the booking centre. You may get better seats

Sister: Yeah tickets are available only in that train. Prabhu is considering driving to B’lore on 24th afternoon. Route till Kurnool is very good. After that we are hoping it is good now.

Brother: Ok

Sister: And he will come back the new year weekend and we drive back on 3^rd Jan. These are the 2 options

Brother: So, will the car be here till that time?

Sister: Yes. We will decide this evening

Brother: Ok. Is the booking centre anywhere near your house?

??

Where have you gone?

Sister: Sorry went to attend a call.

Not far, not near.

Brother: if you are coming by train, I suggest you go to the booking centre. A proper railways booking counter.

Sister: Just that the queue will be long

Brother: Is it so? In Bangalore, it is quite manageable now-a-days.

Sister: Today is bandh in Hyderabad. Don’t know if that will be open!!

Brother: There is also coupon system. What reason?

Sister: Atleast the centre I go to is crowded…  But there is no coupon system. Stand in line…  so serpentine queue.

Brother: Hmm. How long?

Sister: Different queues for diff. routes. The old system. Maybe an hour

Brother: That’s bad.

Sister: It takes 2 hrs if we go in the morning!!

Brother: Shall I book and send you the tickets?

Sister: I should try some other centre. Sometimes I feel that area is like that.. It is like majestic in B’lore.

Brother: Ok

Sister: Bandh for Telangana.

Brother: Do you want me to book the tickets?

Sister: They arrested one politician before he went on a hunger strike.

Brother: Ok ok. I know about it. Useless politicians

Sister: Hmm

Shruthi, Smruthi have holiday today. School and colleges are closed, so is BSNL office and the like. I am assuming ticket counter will also be closed.

Brother: Hmm.

Sister: No, u don’t have to go and book the ticket. I will do it

Brother: Ok

Sister: The only return option we have as of now is the Yeshwantpur train which leaves Bangalore at 2.15pm and Prabhu does not want that. Tatkal is always there..

Brother: True

Sister: What time do the counters close..? 6 or 8pm

Brother: 8pm

Sister: Ok…

Brother: Some counters are open till 10pm

Sister: Is it..? I was not aware of that.

Brother: Few, like the one in Gulbarga etc.

Sister: Ok.

Brother: I don’t know about Hyderabad.

Sister: since there are 171 tickets, now u say 168, I am hoping we will get few tickets if we book in the evening.

Brother: Yep. You should

Sister: Since Prabhu will also be there, Shruthi will not sleep alone and worst case, any seat is ok…

Brother: In that case, you can book online.

Sister: I checked 2 hrs back, 171 tickets.

Brother: Since you mention 2 kids, you may get preference for lower berths. Otherwise, you must choose, Middle Berths. They are the best bet, and more often than not you get them.

Sister: I think we will have to book 3 tickets.

Brother: book a side lower if that will help. It will be useful when you have to sit straight in the night if any kid wakes up.

Sister: No… I would like it together… 2 opp lower with one middle will be ideal.

The kids are ok now… They understand train night and crossed those stages. Touchwood.

Brother: Yes, you must go to the counter for that ideal stuff.

Sister: :-)   We have got it but it always has been the last smelly compartment.

Brother: Hmm. All the best this time

Sister: Yeah… Thanks…

Brother: Bye for now. Take care.

Sister: Bye… See you. Shruthi and Smruthi are saying bye to Mama.

Brother: Same here. Bye

Sister: Ok. Bye.

Okay this may be a long post, as I simply could not make up my mind on what to post in a sneak peek….. I love them all.

This family was a lot of fun! With four kids under the age of five, you got to stay on your toes!

I love everything about this next image…. from the messed up hair, low light, hands on mouth as if trying to not tell a secret. Everything! You’ll soon be seeing it on my website.

The little sister

and baby brother…. who was watching his daddy make funny faces.

A lot has gotten better. I’m not entirely sure how.  I miss my friends,  I miss my boyfriend. I hate long weekends, weekends overall. I’d rather wake up early everyday to see them for the next six hours than sit at home for 4-5 days not able to see any of them. The only time I think I went out all weekend was Black Friday, I went Christmas shopping with my sister and brother in law. I even bought my best friend a CD of the guy who sings her favorite song. I didn’t care if she knew I got it, so I sent a picture of it saying “you better love me”. She texted back saying “I LOVE YOU” around 15 times.

In the pursuit of following your dreams of life,you need to manage and make good decisions, You will have to have a battle between yourselves to make the decide.

     I would like to suggest you a good technique for decision-making through your life ,

Step 1:

     Try to think of a person who is really interested and caring about your life.It may be your mother,father,sister,brother,love,friend,well-wisher

Step 2:

     Compare the result, of the decision you are making.

Step 3 :

     Make decisions, according to which will make the person proud of you for the decision you have made.

Result :

       Apart from logic and own gut’s,This kind of decision will make you have good reputation and highly succesful decisions.

Happy Happy Birthday

to my Sweet

Slug Bug Sister!

Hope it’s Wonderful!!!

An empty feeling reminiscent of the one that flooded me when I broke up with my boyfriend seems to be round the corner. I can sense it for it makes me feel rather lazy and want to stop everything I have undertaken. It hasn’t come upon me with all its glory as yet, or else, I will have been in bed by now. I will stem its progress. That’s all I can do. And possibly, I’ll get it to leave me alone.

—-

We will be shifting this week to another apartment. Mother dragged me to that apartment and got me to help her measure the length and breadth of its hall, bedroom, and kitchen. She did that because she wanted to plan the arrangement of the furniture.

However, when she made known her plans to all in the evening, none agreed wholeheartedly with her arrangements.

After all, how can you even think of stationing the cupboards – ALL the cupboards – in the hall? Her explanation is that there will not be place to sleep in the bedroom. Well, I don’t think Mother, Father, and Sister need so much space to sleep. Sister thinks the same too. And so, an argument broke out at 8:15 pm IST. Mother was hell bent on having her way and we were heaven bound to not let her.

It was then that she dug into her bag of dramatic statements and pulled out this: “Why have to bother about it looking nice? Why do you care? This house is – after all – a flock of borrowed feathers!”

A minute’s silence ensued and Sister had her retort ready. “Mother,” she said, registering determination in every syllable, “Just because you think that way doesn’t mean we ALL think that way.”

“Oh!” Mother sighed, “you just don’t understand.”

“On the contrary, Mother,” Sister snapped, “YOU don’t understand. You expect the cupboards, the dining table, the computer table, AND the music system to be all in the hall. Where will he sleep?” And she pointed at me.

“Well, there’ll be place.”
“Where Mother? Just think. Don’t just get carried away!”

But instead of re-thinking the whole idea, Mother just gave up: “Fine!” she said exasperated, “Do what you want!”

And that’s exactly what we are about to do.:)

This site is exclusively for bragging purposes. Is there someone you are really proud of? Is there that guy or gal that has you going crazy and you just can’t seem to stop talking about him or her? What about your faithful dog, did he or she doing something totally awesome? Did your son or daughter bring home those straight A’s? Perhaps you are proud of your Mom or Your Dad. Whatever you feel like sharing, you can post it here.  Have fun!  Know that this is the type of energy that brings a warm fuzzy feeling in our hearts.

It’ll be my little sister’s 18th birthday in 11 minutes. I guess she’s not actually “little” anymore, what with her being a legal adult now, and what with her being 3 inches taller than me, but you know what? She’ll always be my baby sister.

So when Mom asked me to make some vegan treats to accompany the decidedly non-vegan ice cream cake Rhiannon requested for her family party yesterday, how could I refuse? I decided to whip up a batch of the Cookies ‘n Cream Cupcakes from VCTOTW using some accidentally-vegan Oreos.

Yum in my tum.

Mmm. I love that this frosting looks and works best just haphazardly slapped on top of the cupcakes. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy whipping out the ol’ pastry bag and piping beautiful swirls of frosting atop my cuppers, but for reasons of time and laziness, this method gets an A+ in my book. And these little guys didn’t just look pretty. Suffice it to say that these cuppers were absolutely delicious and received rave reviews from the omnis who tried them. Great success!

Even though my sissie was feeling a little under the weather on the day of her party, it was still a great evening. All our little cousins showed up, even the ones from out of state, and we had fun bonding with the kids and being amazed at their boundless energy. So even though Rhiannon had to head back to college today (she was home for Thanksgiving break) and therefore won’t be spending her actual birthday with us, it was okay. We enjoyed the time we had together, and that’s really all that counts.

So, happy birthday, little sister.

My wonderful sissie.

My sister and I go through our spurts of getting along.  For the past few years we haven’t gotten along at all.  So ever since I’ve moved back home, I’ve tried to make more of an effort in building a good relationship with her.  We go out to dinner, hang out, talk on the phone, run errands, whatever.  She’s only home on weekends, so that’s kind of nice not having to do it all the time.  I can only deal with her in moderation.  We are very, very different.  The more we hang out, the deeper our conversations get, the more relevant that fact becomes.  Sometimes, I just can’t handle her anymore.

By the time I was in 8th grade (she was sophomore), and boys became more of an interest in my life, the more inferior I become to her.  I was never as friendly, as outgoing.  I didn’t have as good of a personality.  I wasn’t as pretty.  Those thoughts became extremely evident when the guy I had been majorly crushing on for most of the year (who supposedly liked me back and my sister was well aware of), ended up crushing on my sister and they ultimately kissed on a class trip, (that she was lucky enough to go on because of me).  Even all through high school a lot of my guy friends would tease me about her.  ”Your sister’s hot.  Will you hook me up?  Is your sister going to be around?”  They thought it was funny, that I would get so pissed off.  Guys I expressed interest in would even go up and talk to my sister.  They would befriend her.  These situations all together have seriously scarred me for life as I’ve never fully recovered, and those feelings continue to play a dominant role in my interaction with guys today.

It’s not that I was the ugly duckling.  I had some interested guys, but they were all creepy or nerdy or losers who I wasn’t interested in.  My sister would always get the better, good looking guys.  It wasn’t enough that she had boys in her own grade, and all her own friends interested in her, but also the boys in my grade and my friends too.  I was always referred to as “so-and-so’s little sister,” which made me feel nonexistent.  Then having at least 85% of the guys I’ve ever had in my life make some sort of remark, express interest, or completely use me to get to her has even to this day made me feel like 2nd best.  I feel like I’m only good enough for them to get through to get to her.

Back then, I didn’t know my worth.  It would just make me sad and depressed.  Now, I know what I have to offer.  I feel like I’m better than her inside and out, a lot of because of what I went through because of her.  I’m just as pretty if not prettier.  I have just as good if not a better personality.  I’m not stuck up or spoiled.  I know the value of a dollar.  I know what it’s like to work hard for everything you have even if it’s not much.  I’m more rounded.  I’ve had shitty experiences and came out on top of them all.  I am strong and can take care of myself with no assistance.  I don’t need  a housekeeper.  I know how to cook, and I will gladly get down on my hands and knees to do yard work.  But knowing all of this, doesn’t take those feeling away.

I thought things have changed.  I thought we (as in everyone my age that I went to school with) have grown up from those childish antics.  I thought I would be taken seriously as an equal to my sister now that so much time has passed.  I’ve changed a lot and was hoping people would see me for who I really am.  They would see me as a grown up, an individual, a happy, friendly, outgoing, funny, good-hearted person.  Going out with my sister this weekend has just proven to me, that once again I am just the revolving door being used for someone I know to get to her.

I just don’t get it.  I know there is nothing wrong with me.  I know I’m a great catch.  I know I have better qualities than she does.  But why doesn’t anyone else see it?  Why are they all so attracted to her over me?  What does she have that I don’t?  I’m tired of feeling this way.  I know how great I am, yet I still can’t help but feel inferior to her.  I know that I am better than her.  I didn’t go through all this shit in my life to not become an amazing person out of it.  I just want other people to see it and appreciate it.  And they don’t.  I feel transparent.  I was the troubled kid.  I had all the health problems.  I got into the bad group of friends and did bad things.  I didn’t go to college.  I got into debt.  I made bad decisions.  Even when I got a boyfriend, he wasn’t as great as her boyfriend.  And now that they are both exes, my parents still adore hers and keep in touch with him, yet mine to them is (I’m sure) happily out of the picture.  I really, really do try not to compare.  But when the differences are so drastically clear, I can’t help but feel like I’ll never measure up.

A bunch of us went to Slappy Cakes this morning. It’s a restaurant where they have griddles built into the tables and you can make your own pancakes! It was gimicky and fun.I had a green Bloody Mary (I opted out on the non-vegan one with worcestershire sauce full of anchovies and accompanied by a stick of bacon, ew.) I think it was made with tomatillos and was yummy and green. Here’s a picture of my delighted sister making vegan pancakes:

She resorted to plain circles after many unusual shapes. I think the ones on the plate says "I <3 food"

My housemate Marc’s cat was attacked by something. We keeping saying it was a Chupacabra but it was more likely a raccoon or something. Either way he needed 21 stitches and a tube to drain the bad junk out. I’d feel worse for him but he’s got an “Elizabethan” cone that make his look ridiculous. He spends a lot of time outside and the idea of him being inside for 2 weeks is going to drive him crazy. Especially since jackie still gets to go out.

poor OJ

I spent the afternoon gocco printing the new envelopes that go with my new zine so I’ll have them ready for my reading on Thursday. All three of the zines fit into these nice envelopes from recycled materials that I have been holding onto for at least 4 years. I’m glad I finally get to use them! I used the Brainscan Key design that I put on t-shirts a few years ago. I think I’m going to make some more shirts soon. I’ll need to stock up on used shirts or make an order for new ones.  I wish shirts weren’t so expensive.

Anyway, here’s what the package deal with my new zine looks like: Brainscan 24 (small 32 pages with vellum covers), Brainscan 25 (80 pages with transparency covers), a16 page epilogue all tucked into a gocco printed envelope. I’m throwing in some small stickers of the brain design and buttons with some order. They can be ordered here.

brainscan 24 &25

Currently I’m on shift at the IPRC. I haven’t been in here much since I have been back and I feel sort of out of the loop. I think I need to go read the staff log and get up to speed.

“When she she dances, she goes and goes…”

It was summer. It looked like the hotness of the air was melting down the half broken asphalt. My dad was driving. It was a long journey. We were headed to the West Coast of Turkmenistan, where the humongous lake waited for us. Everybody in the car was sleepy; too tired to even talk. For more than six hours silence hung upon our family. While watching the blurry surroundings from the window, I dreamt. I dreamt of strange things like being able to fly or becoming fearless.

The car stopped in front of the hotel. I opened the door and got out of the car. The sudden change from chilly car to hot hotel grounds made me feel dizzy. But the dizziness was gone when the swift breeze from the sea brushed my face. It was fresh and pleasant. I was eager to go down to the beach and day-dream there for a while.

We got the keys from our rooms. My outdated parents went to sleep right away. However, my sister and I decided to go down to the beach. I thought we were mature enough not to ask permission from our parents to do something such innocent as going down to the beach.

It was nearly five in the evening. Still hot. The golden sand beneath my bare feet burned my toes and heel. It was not pleasant. I ran towards the edge of the water. Wet and cool feeling of it brought sudden relief from pain to my feet. The waves washed them and each time they did it blew the bubbles up on my skin. It tickled. It seemed like I was alone. I couldn’t hear a thing except the waves. Couldn’t smell anything, but the smell of concentrated salt and iodine. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the sea. The glistening patches of sunlight looked like diamonds that covered it. It was seducing. Without any deep thought I walked into the sea.

It did not take me a long time to realize that I could not breathe properly. It felt like the water was crushing my chest and I could not speak nor scream. I looked around. I remembered my sister, I couldn’t see her. I turned around to walk towards the beach, but the waves pushed me backwards, deep into the sea. I could not feel the ground. I felt like I was in the middle of nothing. I was sinking. I heard my heartbeat in my head. I pushed myself upwards and tried to scream, but the water blocked my mouth. I pushed again, and I heard my sister’s scream. It felt like my heart was about to explode. It was me who brought her into the sea. I was the reason for what was happening.

I was suffocating. My sister was too. I pushed upwards; screamed, hoped that somebody would hear me. At last I gave up and I thought that that was it. Suddenly I saw my mom holding me in her hands 16 years ago, my dad dancing with me in the middle of kitchen almost fourteen years ago, my nanny helping me out with my homework when I was seven, me running after my older sister with scissors, perfectly remembering the feeling of hatred towards her, when I was 11. My whole life was passing in front of my eyes. I thought it only happens in movies and books, but it was happening to me too. I thought it was amazing and it felt like death was not such a bad idea after all. I was of course wrong. Everything inside me started burning, screaming for oxygen. It was unbearable…

I felt sudden warmth against my ice-cold skin. Something pushed me upwards. The water did not compress my chest anymore, but I still couldn’t breathe. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t. I only heard voices; people talking, a coarse voiced man shouting, and a woman mumbling something. Something crushed my chest again. It was painful. I vomited. Salt was burning my throat. I opened my eyes and I saw my sister sitting beside me. Her clothes were dry. She wasn’t drowning. She was trying to get some help. Relief rushed through my veins. Surprisingly I felt good after all that has happened. I could walk and talk, even though the mumbling woman said that I had post-dramatic stress… Whatever that meant.

My sister and I never talked about what has happened. My parents pretended not know about it. We all decided to skip that memory and continue to live our life. After that I never recovered. While dreaming of becoming fearless, I became fearful. I feared water, pain, and suffocation.

The day when we had to leave, I looked at the sea. It was as beautiful as it was the day I came, but this time I was full of hatred towards it. My dad called my name. I got into the car, hoping that I will not come to that place ever again.

ST.

My mum and sister donning my latest designs while out on my graduation day.

The deed is done, but I didn’t get to do it like I wanted.  He texted me one evening with kisses and cuddles, and I had to gather my courage.  I told him that I wanted to talk to him and not text.  I guess he didn’t like the idea of voices either because he insisted that texting was the same as talking.

I took all of the blame; really it is my fault because I am just not into him.  It was hardly taking one for the team.  I told him every excuse possible, like throwing darts and hoping one would stick.  I am not so good at darts.  Listing issues with past relationships, my own selfishness, and commitment problems, I tried it all, everything but me actually admitting that I didn’t think of him THAT way. I even said he deserved better, and his only response was why.  I dished out some compliments for him, but he just kept trying to fix all the issues.   Finally I felt like I completed the task.

As with any break up, I considered that maybe I didn’t try hard enough to make it work.  I closed my eyes trying to think of my original complaints.  All I could see was his huge lips and tongue flopping out of his mouth; a giant monster trying to slime me.  After our words, I tucked myself into bed and heard yet another text.  Questioning details of our conversation, I assumed it was someone else.  Nope, he wanted to tell me that when I am ready he wants to “cuddle more and more and more.”  I rolled my eyes and covered up.  The pling of my phone goes again, he reminds me that he is also recently out of a bad relationship, and we could help each other.  I turned off my phone.

The next morning, in the world of technology, I got online.  He has sent me a message on my Facebook, luckily not on my wall but a private message.  It says that after his night at the bar at 2 AM (a real gentleman HA!), he is thinking of me and wants to kiss me all over.  This was my sign to turn up the mean; was I the only one part of the “conversation” last night?  I replied that I don’t need the kissing right now that I am confused and not ready.  I don’t hear back from him for a day or two.  I am thinking that message must have hit home.  Until I realized he has posted HIS NAME “wants to be spending his time with a certain blonde hair blued-eyed girl.”  His friends had posted all kind of random responses to his post.  My sister has even posted a witty “You want to hang out with me?”  He has replied that she is taken and that won’t work.  The final post was “Be careful what you wish for.”  I so wanted to list my own response, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction that I am reading his post.  It would give him the wrong idea.

My job now is to avoid him, I guess.  I have no other choice.  Even without contact, he is still ever-present.  I still think I did the right thing.  My BFF tells me that if I really liked him I would like his “cuddling and kissing all over” comments.  She is normally always right and knows me better than I know myself at times, but for now the comments just disgust me.  I just need to be alone….without guys for now.  I am not desperate.  I do not need to date.  My life is full, and I don’t have to go out with someone I don’t totally like just to have a free dinner.  Better luck next time.

November 16, 2009 A TEENAGER, raped and impregnated by her younger brother, has been forced to skip school and live in a shelter home until she delivers her baby, Metro Ahad reported.

The 15-year-old girl from Kuala Lumpur, who was supposed to sit for her PMR this year, said she was raped by her 14-year-old brother four times the past year.

“When everyone was asleep, he would sneak into my room. He shut my mouth using his hand and threatened to hurt me if I made any noise. He raped me as if he was possessed,” she said.

She said she did not have the strength to fight back, adding that he threatened to do more harm to her if she told anyone.

Her parents took her to the clinic when they noticed her becoming ill and weak.

“I told my mother everything. When we came home, they confronted my brother and he confessed to raping me,” she said.

She added that her brother had always been naughty and had fallen in with Mat Rempit and started to skip school.

Her parents sent her to the shelter home when they found out she was pregnant.

“I will stay here until my baby is born. Then I will give it up to a foster family. After this, I want to start a new life and go back to school like other youngsters my age,” she said.

She added that her brother had been sent to a religious school.

 MEMOIRS

(Abridged)                                                                                         

By K.K.Subramanian

Waterfriend remembers his childhood

           Kunnathur Mana

My mother was born in a very illustrious family Kunnathur Padinjaredath.You can see the ancestral house near the Peruvanam temple south gopuram (gate)

I have vague memories of sitting upstairs; looking at the road. I must be four at that time.

The family came there in search of livelihood and became the tantry (main priest-they still are) of the temple. I can imagine mother (kali was her name-a goddess) walking towards the temple, holding the hands of the maid servant, almost naked, with only a plantain leaf strip to cover nakedness, not knowing what fate awaited her…tears swell in my eyes, even as I write these lines

She was married off at the tender age of thirteen or so to Subrahmanian Nambudiripad, aged forty plus, already having two wives, one living and the next one and her son still fresh in memory, and a daughter of mother’s age whom her brother married the same day, probably. Mother was dark, uncouth and short; my step sister was fair, lean and very handsome whom mother hated heartily!

I do not remember any one caring for her,  except her younger sister and some cousins. Uncle (eldest) never talked to her or even to her children (in all six, two died early). She had a sharp tongue and was outspoken but had a heart of gold. She was very lazy and father was the laziest!

I digressed…

Around 150 years ago, mother’s ancestor was married to the sister of the king of erstwhile Cochin State who was known as Shaktan Thampuran. He bestowed on the Kunnathur family tax free land. The family became rich.

Maternal grandfather was very intelligent, so too was my uncle. At that time a rich local Nambudiri of Chittoor mana established a school, where we all studied, and uncle was the first student, duly initiated before a lighted lamp etc. Of course the student was without a shirt! I had a few classmates, topless, in primary school. Grandmother was wise, cultured and well versed in puranas (old legends of Hindu religion).When she got angry and shouted like a lioness, her husband shivered like a mouse! She did like my mother, always told me to look after her well but did nothing when she needed assistance. In fact no one accompanied her when she left the house built by father, and we were travelling in a country boat, through the swollen river. Being a fool, I enjoyed the trip!…

Earliest memories centre around a small village Thalore, near Trichur. I was about four. Mother had given birth to a dead baby and so she continued to feed me. I just came in from the spacious orchard where I was playing, lay down in my mother’s lap and started sucking her big breast. (In those days our women folk did not wear blouse.) “Ma, who put sugar in your milk?” -I asked. She just pushed me off and that was the end breast feeding !

I had a playmate Bhagi about eight years or so . She was attached to our maid servant Madhavi. I always thought she was her daughter.

 One day the girl was mopping the kitchen floor. I said something .She didn’t listen and I gave a blow on her back with an iron ladle. The poor girl cried out aloud inviting the attention of mother and paternal grand mother I felt guilty and wretched. Perhaps that was the only time I used violence against any living creature…..

With just a piece of cloth tied like lady’s bikini, I used to accompany Madhavi to the grocery shop owned by a Tamil Brahmin .He would give a piece of jaggery. We never got chocolates in those days.

Father and mother slept in the upstairs bed room. I slept with them. Mother used to tell stories. Elder brother used to sleep with grandmother. He was her favourite. Paternal uncle Krishnaphan was an occasional visitor. We loved him, as he was a good storyteller. About Lilliputs we heard from him. He was dark and fat unlike another p. uncle Vasudevaphan who was slim and fair, the first person to go to school from K.K. family. He was teacher and a close friend of E.M.S. Namboodiripad.

One day an old lady came, covered up to the neck in pure white dhoti (in north India only a widow will dress in white) Do you know her? –they asked. When I blinked, they all laughed . I felt ashamed. It was mother’s ma. As a girl, she was born and brought up in the same house where we were staying temporarily-the great Veembur Kadalayil Mana (which was lying vacant at the time. Mahatma Gandhi visited the house in 1929). Father who was a good architect and astrologer was making our house near the river, about four miles away. One day brother and I accompanied him to see the construction work. My legs were paining like hell. I earned the reputation of having walked four miles when four years old.    

 At that time , another paternal uncle, Parameswaran by name, took me with him to fort Tripunithura where royal family members lived. By custom, only a nambudiri may marry a princess. And, in a nambudiri family only the eldest can marry; others may have legitimate relationship with women of other upper castes, the latter not entitled for a share of nambudiri property. They are not allowed to share meals with us.(My grandfather’s younger brother’s daughter was my schoolmate .I never knew about the blood relationship, though I somehow liked her. Of course I was too shy to talk to her! )

That is how uncle married a real princess and lived in Palace no.11. I was too small to notice the clean bed, the sumptuous food (at home we had it only on birthdays or during Onam) The great festival was going on at the Poornathrayeesha (Krishna) temple and there were any number of elephants (I wanted to become a mahout-I am never tired of watching these majestic animals)

An elephant was being fed. Uncle asked me-do you want to mount it . I shook my head. The mahout lifted me and handed over to his colleague sitting on the elephant. He placed me on its neck. I felt uncomfortable, its hair pricking my naked bottom and I being lifted up and down by the motion of its head while eating; still I enjoyed it .

One day we were taken to Akavoormana near river Periyar. We enjoyed playing in the shallow swift flowing water. I lay down in the water and was carried away some distance. Flapping my arms I managed to remain floating. Thus I learnt the rudiments of swimming. I do not know how to swim really. Like cattle only my head remains above water.

There were two young elephants there. As a baby Ramankutty used to roam about in the house and snatch things from the kitchen. Even now I like to have a baby elephant ….

Vasudevan uncle (the youngest among five brothers, father being the eldest) was working as teacher in Namboori Vidyalaya at Trichur. I would look with admiration  the fat books in his shelf. One day when I grow up I shall read them!

Savithri was born. I refused to see the baby. I wanted a brother. This dislike of girls remained for a long time to come.

When Vas uncle brought a wife I was too shy to meet her. Afterwards the words “cheriamme “automatically escaped from my mouth and all exclaimed “today it will rain” 

   Recently, during morning walk I reached the church and, turning right, easily located the arch, proclaiming entry towards the Shiv temple. I went through it and turned right. A little further, I had hardly turned left when I could easily spot the old gate as it was in 1937! It was something like a flashback in TV screen! The front yard was very small. (in my mind it was very big.)The main building was intact, though concretised. I saw mother’s bedroom upstairs where I slept. Through the left side I traced a few steps and saw the workplace where women husked rice .It was locked. I could easily see the rope swing and Bhagi and I playing there. The reddish brown cow must be somewhere nearby. Bhagi showed me how to pick silky smooth, egg shaped thing (she called it pattunni) from the cow’s skin. She would place it on a stone and crush it with another stone spilling blood. Ma must be in the kitchen. The great surprise was when I turned to the east courtyard and looked to the flight of steps leading to the orchard. I was expecting at least thirty steps. I could count hardly four! To the child everything appears on a mega screen. To the grown up, it is all on TV screen. The surroundings had been cut into plots and sold. There are flats now. But the main structure is unoccupied till now.

Originally, it belonged to Moothedath Kadalayil which was merged with Veembur Kadalayil. On shifting to Pazhai, the house was sold to Akavoor Mana, my paternal grand mother’s maiden house (illam). We were just living there. The Akavoor namboodiri even suggested,” sister, why don’t you live here, why build a new house?” But father wanted to be near our village. 

I took this picture of my sister Roxanne in a field behind our house in Woodland Hills.   My sisters, all younger than me, were my muses in photography.

My family on my mom’s side came up for Thanksgiving today so that meant grazing like a cow. Some families may wait to eat one big meal for Thanksgiving but that is not the case with mine. All of the food is put out in one big spread and you just stand there and eat ALL day. Since my great uncle is in the housing business we took in to look at the house we put an offer on. So basically we made it a family outing to tour a house we don’t even own yet. Then we came back to my aunts to stuff ourselves again. Anyway the highlight of the evening was playing Spoons (see here for background info. and how to play.) The reason I’m posting so late is because I spent the last three hours playing that game with my mom, my two aunts, and my sister. We were laughing our fool heads off. And mostly at me. I won almost every time (unlike last time) but anytime there were some close calls my face would contort in the oddest ways. The first time I made a face was when all of the spoons closest to me were gone so I had to jump up with my face set in an expression of surprise, my mouth a tight O and my eye’s wide with my eyebrows up another two inches. The next time I stuck my lips out like a duck with my eyebrows stretching for my hair line. Then later my mom and I were the last two without a spoon so we were fighting over it (this battle happened in less than 2 seconds mind) but because she freaked out I set my face in one of concentration. Once I had the spoon I realized what my face looked like; I had shoved my tongue up under my top lip, and my eyeballs were bulging out of their sockets. My aunt was practically in tears, and I couldn’t even talk I was laughing so much, with tears streaming down my face. Later on I had gotten four in a row and slowly grabbed the spoon but my eyebrows were clearly too excited and shot up again. Hahaha I wasn’t doing any of it on purpose and didn’t notice anything my face was doing until after I had won. Oh and THEN a while later we had switched from four-of-a-kind to a straight but I had forgotten so when someone else won I grabbed a spoon (I was really quick in this game, I think I lost maybe 10 times out of the 400 we played) and looked at the cards of the person who had won. “Wait we were playing a straight?” I asked, completely baffled. I started laughing immediately as did the others. Things played out similarly throughout the night. Before we had started playing my fore mentioned great uncle was talking about how people in Oregon could now legally grow marijuana or something like that. So he was saying that I should grow some in the green house (which is at the house we’re hopefully moving into) and pay for the entire house. You may not recall that my mom suggested something along those lines a while back. Then shortly after my uncle made us (the under aged) some margaritas (non-alcoholic of course) and my asked me to go and make them instead.

“Wait let me get this straight, you want me to grow weed and make you all drinks?” (I had thought my uncle was making some for the adults, not the kids) I suppose if I did start dealing I could rake in millions, and I could sell to some hospitals too so I’d have a permit. Lol I don’t think I ever really would but I did start planning things out with my mom lmao. Much later in the evening when everyone had left and I was taking the dogs out, the little ones still needed to poop. No sooner had I started to form the sentence in my head then the little one’s start pooping at the same time. A uni-poop! I shrieked to myself. Then I began laughing at the absurdity of the thought. After I had taken them back inside my mom plugged in this movie called Bell Book and Candle. It’s an oldie whose plot is about these witches who want to be normal and use witchery to become it. It’s good so far. Anyway one of the witches was putting a spell on this man and she started humming to complete it. It wasn’t a scary hum, just a light note that you would sing to a child to help them sleep. Buttercup did not like this at all though and started barking like crazy. She stood on the couch, looking straight at the TV, with a stance much like a dog on point and barked like a mad woman. We couldn’t calm her down for about a minute, she didn’t stop barking until long after the woman stopped humming. “Buttercup, sweetie, you’re going to have to get over your witchery thing because that’s your house.” I case you’ve forgotten the million other times I’ve said it, we’re a woo-woo house. That was my day as tightly as I could pack it, sorry it’s so long.

Bobcats, hummingbirds and the moon.  O, my!

Visually, today was very cool.  A bobcat crossed my path!  Certainly a first and the highlight of the day.  But I also feel bogged down, heavy and tired.

I had a fight with my sister about a week ago and it is not finished yet.  I had expected for us to make up during this time we are together over Thanksgiving, but as expectations go, they have not been met.

We had this fight on the phone and were mid-fight when she had to hang up and finish work for her finals – she is in graduate school.  I am not at peace with this fight and I always like to complete things – especially fights.  Sweeping things under the rug is never good, in my opinion, and the longer you go before getting everything out in the open and putting things to rest, the worse off you are.  But my sister does not want to talk about the fight.  So what do I do?  I’m lost.

What do you do when one person wants to talk about something and the other person doesn’t?  This fight we had, has a major issue at heart.  It’s something that I think she will need some time with and is something that she is hurting and struggling with more than I may realize.  Perhaps this is a time for me to accept her limitations at this point and simply be loving.  Maybe it’s less important for me to say what’s on my mind and more important to give her space?  But then, I am hurting and struggling to.  Again, I really am at a loss on this.

I feel sad and powerless with this…and that is not a recipe that ends well for me.