The Smile of Murugan

Is it cold there, S Maami asks?

The winters must have set in there, Iyengaar Maami adds knowingly.

I heard that there was a frost warning two weeks back, Alacrity Maami announced.

Amma has returned and the T Nagar Maamis seem to be under the belief that Amma is some kind of a weather satellite that they had sent out to monitor the global climate. The burning question in their minds is, did the investment on the thermal-wear from Naidu Hall pay off?

Amma looked overwhelmed and tired as a result of all the attention. Six months have aged her considerably. She is surprisingly quiet. She chooses her words carefully and all her movements seem to be deliberate and in slow-motion. The suitcase is yet to be unpacked and the boxes of Ziploc bags and assorted stuff manufactured in Asia and retailed in discount stores in America are yet to make an appearance. So, I remain unsure how successful the trip has been for Amma. Yet, I would like to hazard a guess, and say that, the American Dream doesn't seem to have worked for her.

Six months is a long time. Appa, who had been at the receiving end of my domestic experiments will vouch for that. But, it must have been longer for Amma. Six months of vacuuming a large and empty house must be tiring. Six months of doing cleaning and assorted household work must be boring. If the only outlet to unwind is a visit to the local library, six months must indeed be a long time. Six months of religiously playing the sport of fattening your children must be tiresome. Six months of waiting for weekends to meet them, must be pathos inducing. And most importantly, six months away from T Nagar must be heart-breaking.

How is M Manni, G Periamma asks Amma, in a gleeful tone. Everyone looks at Amma with some interest. Now, that should get her talking. There must be a dozen reasons at least, why M Manni is not good enough for the precious T Anna. Amma surprised G Periamma and me when she said, M Manni is an affectionate girl. Amma stresses on affectionate, the way she does when English words slip into whatever she says.

Did you know M Manni wears contact lenses, Amma asked me suddenly? Deceit, I think, I wonder how Amma would have reacted when she saw M Manni with glasses for the first time. I would have liked to have been there. But it seems, that is not enough reason to launch an attack against the daughter-in-law and Amma said, nowadays you get disposable lenses, they are very comfortable, you know. She adds further, it stablises the power. She is trying to convince T Anna to get one too. Amma sounds satisfied, like her son is now in good hands. I am just a little shocked. I am also happy and a little jealous. I don't get that kind of approval after twenty-five years.

Where all did you go, S Maami asks. Did you go to the Coca Cola factory in Atlanta, 106 Maami asks? What about Lake Tahoe, another Maami almost breathlessly asks, lest some other Maami beat her to it. What about the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, G Periamma asks, as she tries to remember some photographs that her brother had shown her some years ago. I hope you went to Boston and saw Harvard, Alacrity Maami said in an almost indignant tone. What about Las Vegas, S Maami suggested playfully.

I rolled my eyes as the Maami's questions traveled effortlessly across coasts and with scanty regard for distances and T Anna's financial ability to fund this wanderlust. All of this, just so that, they could show off their own knowledge. I decide that I couldn't take this anymore and got ready to leave the room. It was Amma's response that made me pause, as she said, we didn't go out very much. T Anna is having some tension at work.

N Chitappa who was watching the TV on mute (he believes that TV is merely a visual medium. Though the theory floating around in the family is, he is partially deaf and cannot listen in to the conversation among the women-folk, usually gossiping in the next room if the TV is also on.). Anyway, he perked up at Amma's statement and asked her, Recession aa, clucking his tongue like he was biting into a juicy and sweet jangri from Suriya Sweets.

Apdi ellam onnum illai, Amma said,just a tad too quickly. Some general tension only, she offered in manner of explanation of her earlier statement.

At least, he didn't shoot you and M Manni, G Periamma added, rather unkindly, as the colour drained out of Amma's face. The Maamis got into a discussion on how shocking it was that a Tamil Brahmin boy that too from IIT would be involved in something as macabre. Personally, I am glad. Not glad that people got killed or that people are moved to such desperation. But, at least, T Anna and his friends will not get into a match-the dormitory/hostel-game, Over the years, I have noticed, every occasion when some IIT alumni has achieved any success, there is an almost pathological need to match dormitories or hostels that they might have shared, even if it was twenty-five years apart. Notorious alumni, don't make you do that. Yes, I am somewhat pleased.

Too much pressure in IIT these days, 106 Maami says, as she thinks about her own son from the hallowed walls.

Yes yes, N Chitappa offers. You can't be that smart and not be a little insane, hanh. All boys and girls who go to IIT must be at least 10% insane.

I can't suppress the giggle and wonder about several things, like – how did N Chitappa arrive at this figure, what is the upper limit of this insanity percentage and what level does he peg T Anna and S at. N Chitappa suddenly notices me and asks me to come and talk to him. I know it is not going to be very pleasant, but with little choice, I go and sit next to him. So, what does the Indian media think about this global financial crisis, hanh, he wants me to tell him.

Ummm, I say. I hate it when my views are supposed to represent a group of individuals, more so when they don't know that they are being represented. And especially my views on a subject that I have very limited knowledge about.

All the Maamis now turn their attention to me and for the first time in the day seem to notice my presence in the room. I strain to think back about all the news reports that I might have read or the snatches of conversation thread that I might have heard but not really listened. But, I draw a blank and all I can recall is how M and I discussed about the Mangayar Malar's hundred Deepavali sweets. Hundred sweets made up with the ration shop sugar, Aaavin cooking butter and cheap cashews bought from Burma Bazaar in Trichy don't suggest a recession, do they?

It is terrible, I say finally. Rather stupidly. The Maamis look a little disappointed and mostly satisfied that they need not re-evalaute their opinion about me. Oblivious to my misery and not wanting to lose his captive audience, N Chitappa continues, it is worse than terrible, do you know Iceland has become bankrupt. The knowledge of an an entire country going bankrupt makes them feel horrified and strangely excited at the same time. So, what is this recession about, S Maami asked?

And so, N Chitappa launched into his idiot's guide to the sub-prime crisis. I am not sure if N Chitappa had ever had such large bunch of captive women audience. Madras Thatha, had come into the room by then and we couldn't help but exchange a smile as N Chitappa spoke about Ninja borrowers, Federal Reserve, Washington Mutual, confidence crisis, bankrupt investment banks, government bail-out and the works. The Maamis are agog with curiosity and questions tumble out. Some are logical. Aren't the banks legally bound to pay the investment banks even if their customers defaulted, Alacrity Maami demands to know. Some are merely trying to get their voice heard and will ask any kind of question. Who is a Ninja Warrior, S Maami wishes to know. The Japanese Kamal in Dasavatharam of course, 106 Maami says. After a minor digression that involved discussing each of the avataarams, it was concluded that Japanese Ninja Avataaram was clearly the worst. G Periamma had only one thing to ask, so why did Karthik kill himself and his family? That too a Fulbright scholar son, Amma said in an offended tone. All the Maamis agreed that it would be quite alright if stupid children were killed. Not liking the way the conversation was going, I decided to leave the room.

In my room, I Googled for stuff and found this, it was less dramatic and more informative than whatever N Chitappa was getting at. And most importantly it didn't establish a relationship between loan defaulters and inevitable death.

I wonder, why would any of this impact T Anna. He was not an investment banker or any other kind of banker. The only explanation I can think of is that, he is probably one of those debtors who didn't pay back the money and was in some way responsible for this crisis. He had bought a house recently, hadn't he?

Amma comes to my room and her blank expression is now replaced with the I-don't-like-what-I-see expression as she looks at my hair. I think, for six months you must not have applied any oil, she pronounces disgustedly. I want to protest and tell her that, I have been religiously following the oil and Meera herbal powder routine with poor results to show for. But, I hold back. After all, she has just traveled time-zones, have a dream shattered and a global worry in the back of her mind that refuses to go away.

We should go to the Vadaplani Kovil tomorrow. It is only Asthami but that is okay, she says peeping into the day ahead on the Rani Muthu calendar. Yes, I agree meekly. Also go and get that bottle of oil, let me see what you have done without me, she says in her assured tone. I can see that it is already working. And probably a god seated on a blue peacock, 10 ml of oil and few days of the T Nagar air is all that she needs to convince herself about her infallibility.

After which, she will forget about a global crisis and tell us the real story behind the horrific discovery of her daughter-in-law's glasses and the likely impact of this on the eye-sight of the grandchild who might someday be named after her.

When the gods wait

Obsessed with grades and mathematics marks, my school had a Parent-Teacher meeting every now and then. This so that, they could assess and take stock of our progress and gauge if any of us would get a stamp sized photograph of ours published in The Hindu, when Brilliants Tutorials put up its advert.

After my disastrous Saturday tests, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that I was not going to be one of them. However, that didn’t stop Amma and Viajayalakshmi Madam, my mathematics teacher, to continue having expectations from me. The bright kids always got a hundred in maths. The average but hard-working ones got in the 90s. The ones who didn’t have the aptitude or the inclination got less than 70s. And there were some of us, who were always languishing in the early 80s.

She makes too many silly mistakes, is what Viji Madam said term after term.

Amma used to be very upset when she would get home from these meetings. Not only was I making mistakes and thereby ruining my future, I was doing that in a most silly manner. Unlike me, T Anna never made any mistakes. And when he did, it was certainly not a “silly” mistake. He would misunderstand a relatively simple question and come up with a more complicated answer than necessary. Occasionally Viji Madam would not cut his marks for mere ingenuity. But I was not being a worthy successor of this legacy and would compute the age of the father when clearly they asked the age of the son. Or, I would calculate the circumference when clearly it was a question on volume. Or, I would figure patterns among numbers where there was no evidence of such a series existing.

For most of the school years, Amma’s efforts were directed in converting me from – silly mistakes maker to mere mistakes maker.

However, it didn’t really work.

In sheer despair, Amma got in touch with Mambalam Maama – our family astrologer, thatha’s ex colleague from the Murugappa group, who now helped to match horoscopes and provide solutions to defy planetary ill influences.

Mambalam Mama, on seeing my horoscope said that, Guru – the planet of optimism and success was weak for me and that I needed to work on that to get some success. Amma was provided with a two pronged solution to win over Guru.

• Step one was simple. Every Thursday, Amma was to visit a Dakshinamoorthy temple and offer the god a garland made out of soaked chik-peas (the kadalai malai)
• Step two was a little more complex. As it involved that I do something. I was to recite the Hayagriva Sthotram eleven times every morning.

I sulkily refused and even told Amma that Hayagriva was a Vaishnavite god. However, she would have none of it and I was asked to recite the shlokas.

The problem was that, there was no time for sholkams in the morning. I had maths tuitions early in the morning and then Chettiar would come and pick me up to go to school. Amma came up with the brilliant idea that I recite the sholkams in my school van. However, there were a couple of problems there:
1. She could not be sure that I actually recited those shlokams
2. The other children might catch on and there might be an overload on dear lord Hayagriva’s attention

Paati suggested that, I recite the shlokams in the evening. But there was paatu class, my evening meeting with Poongothai and some TV viewing to take care of. So I used to recite them just before I went to sleep.

Amma was upset with this. For one, I was not pure and fresh enough by the end of the day and also, it was a maamiyaar suggestion.

How can you make god wait, she would mutter?

Viji Madam wasn’t the only one who complained about me. There was the paatu bagavathar who came home to teach me and A Akka, who complained about how easily I was distracted. My shlokam teacher to whom I went for Bhagwad Geethai classes also complained about how I disturbed the other fine children. Even my non-maths teachers complained about, how I never had any questions, and during the exams, I never seemed to know all the answers.

But, I survived through all of it. With a little help from Paati, who would smuggle some figs (that were bought for her, to ease her bowel movements) for me when I was sulking or weeping.

Amma and Appa have been contemplating going to USA and spend sometime with T Anna and M Manni. S and I have been encouraging them. We think that, they need the change and also might enjoy traveling to another country when they are relatively younger.

T Anna has been the good soon and is asking Amma to come and spend time with them. He has bought a five-bedroom apartment and his house is apparently now as big as his heart. He also wants Amma to teach M Manni how to make samayal like namma veedu.

Amma’s heart swells with pride at the mention of her famed white dosais and just right flavoured takali rasam.

However, a mother with two daughters can’t have it easy. And between S’s IIT aspirations and my ticking biological clock, amma felt that a trip at this point in time would be incorrect.

To add further insult to her disappointment, M Manni’s Amma and Appa decided to enjoy the hospitality of their daughter and son-in-law.

M Manni’s paati fell down in the bathroom for the third time in the last six months. And this fall was bad enough for M Manni’s parents to cut short their trip and come back to Madras.

Yesterday morning, they came to visit us, to give us a first-hand account of how their trip was and the assessment of the son-in-law.

It seems, T Anna is no good. M Manni’s Amma not so subtly or tactfully complained about T Anna and the fact that his laptop is his first wife. Or that, unlike the other fine Tamil Iyer NRI boys who help their wives by running the dish-washer, T Anna does no such thing. He also wakes up each morning and sits with his laptop and demands M Manni bring him kaapi. Once he drinks his kaapi, he leaves the tumbler next to him and M Manni needs to pick it up. He is lazy and unhelpful.

Amma was livid when M Manni’s parents left. Send him an email and ask him to call us, she said.
T Anna called early this morning, he said that M Manni was doing her poojai. So, she does poojai in the evening also, amma asked? And in spite of herself, she was impressed.

Not really, T Anna said, she does the poojai only in the evenings, Mornings she is too busy, you see.

M Manni works at the university and needs to leave home really early. So, the praying to the gods happens in the evening.

How can you make god wait, Amma asks silkily?

T Anna ho-hums and wants to know, if there has been any progress with my case? On being presented with her pet topic, Amma forgets the grouse.

But not for long. When the family ritual of the post phone call analysis happens, Amma is upset that M Manni is doing her poojais in the evening. How can she? How can she?

I suggested to amma that, in fact, she is praying when it is morning for us, so it is actually not such a bad thing.

Amma is not impressed.

I can’t help but feel amused at this. And in spite of the many packets of Hersheys Kisses, Sundried Prunes and Ziploc Bags that T Anna brings me each time, to win over my sisterly affections (like those are the things that I need); I suddenly feel kinship with him.

I also feel a kinship with M Manni and I am convinced that she is indeed the right choice for our family.

As Amma prepares to leave for the USA next month, me and S are wondering, if our sister-in-law needs to be warned?

Interesting times ahead.