Can ‘Saibol’ fix the Kerala floods?

The resilience I’m blessed with or the deep appreciation I have for nature and its beauty probably stems from the first 10 years I spent in the most amazing place called Alappuzha. With her seductive backwaters, lagoons and canals, and plenty of other picturesque features no wonder Lord Curzon called Alappuzha the “Venice of the East”.

Our family, belonging to a middle-class Christian family, was settled in a place called ‘Chungom’. Our house overlooked our paddy fields and canals. I proudly bear the scars of my childhood – from climbing trees and falling repeatedly, running the fields bare-feet with friends during summer,and by getting stomped on by a vast amount of people during ‘Mullakkal Chireppu’ (local carnival) . My fathers pure passion for ‘vallam kali’ (Nehru Trophy Boat Race) and competing in the Nehru Trophy as a captain of their boat for one too many years also meant that Nehru trophy, ‘kuttanadan punchayille’ song, the competitiveness and the innate resilience from constantly losing the first place (Sorry daddy!) are all well inherited by me and my sisters.

There was one other thing that was a constant companion during these 10 years- ‘Saibol cream’. House built near acres of paddy fields meant that, during monsoon seasons fields flooded, and in no time, the water would be inside our houses. Us kids loved it- swimming and “trying” to catch fish, why would we mind it?!.

Even though we ‘loved’ it, every morning when you had to get out of bed or go to the bathroom, it took sheer amount of will power and a good couple of minutes before putting the feet down in the cold water. And at night, it itched like there’s no tomorrow.

We grew up with our Ammachi (grandmother) during these years. Shed be walking in the water all day running the house and at night, her toes would be itchy with all the bacteria and she would rub ‘Saibol’ in between her toes.

I experienced this for 10 years..my Ammachi may be for over 60 years after marrying into a family from Alappuzha in her early 20’s. She was accustomed to floods and water and stayed fearless…till this monsoon season. After fleeing her house, going to her oldest daughters and then to her youngest (due to her oldest daughters house being also flooded), at the age of 88, I heard fear in my Ammachis voice for the first time and I could do absolutely nothing about it.

My family house was rebuilt 10 years ago so high from the ground that they never had water inside the house for over a decade. Water still went inside. It was over knee high of my uncle who is 6 ft high. He had to abandon the house, sell all their much beloved animals who were their family members and take rescue.

Now the mentioning of the class again, this is a middle class family who were able to have their house built appropriately according to the area. Now, for those who were unable to afford that..I will leave it up to you to imagine where their house is now apart from pointing out the obvious that ‘Kuttanadu’, a part of Alappuzha, rich with culture, characteristics and Love is pretty much gone. If you were to visit a house is Kuttanadu or Alappuzha..you wouldn’t have gone back home without a full stomach and may be some ‘tharavu curry’ to take back with you.

And if you know anything about a Kerala curry, you know that its a perfect blend and balance of spices and ingredients that just makes the most amazing curry- an imbalance of any one ingredient can cause trouble for instance, chilli or salt.

In the past few days, people have been extremely kind, generous and helpful in Kerala and outside Kerala. Regardless of cultural, geographical, relihious or scoial boundaries, people came together, like a perfect mix. From a kind Sikh individual from Perth, Australia who raised £1000 to School and University students who have given up whatever little they had in order to save Kerala, I have enough to restore my faith in humanity.

And the next time you eat a tharavu curry from Alappuzha (and I any other delicious kerala curry as I dont eat duck), I hope you and I both be reminded of how all the perfect incredients came together and made a good curry during this crisis (if you know, you know).

One thing people of Kuttanadu, Alappuzha and Kerala are good at is working hard. Like them, I along with my fellow British Malayali youth, we will commit to raising even more funds, to help rebuild our homeland, Kerala, as I think ‘Saibol’ cream is just not going to be enough to able to fix the damages of this flood.

https://www.gofundme.com/sy6kg-kerala-flood-relief-fund

Time and change

Before you know, it will be time to say good bye to 2016. How are the years flying, I still have no idea! Whilst every hour, every month and year is slipping away from your grip without your consent, I refused to believe that a part of me is leaving with time. Truth is though, whether I admit it or not, I’m getting old . So is everything and everyone else around me. We are changing, physically and emotionally, everyday.

My sisters have grown up and entering different phases in their lives;my parents are getting old even if i refuse to acknowledge any signs; my other-half is growing into a family man, my friends are getting married,having babies, getting separated  or moving away; and my grand parents, well i’m just grateful for every extra day that they get to see!

Change is inevitable! And it scares me, like everyone else!  Whilst I’m still stuck in the past, thinking of the ‘good-old’ times, time is moving forward and it is bringing in loads and loads of changes in everyone and everything. I’ve got two choices: a, be stuck in the past and be bitter about change; b, move forward with time.

I choose the latter, not with a lot of enthusiasm but with pain. I will move forward, taking my memories along with me and not losing track of the things that I were. I will also be reminded of the story of the eagle that transformed itself rather painfully when time plays it tricks on me.

Inspiration

Inspiration. An unusual guest to come by and knock on my door. I went to bed last night hoping and dreaming of a productive day today, and setting myself agendas. All plans were destroyed when I opened my eyes this morning at 09:53. I lied in bed for another half an hour scrolling through Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat over and over again. I hopelessly look up inspirational movies in the hope that some movie would get me going. Did not work. I type in ‘inspirational videos’ on youtube. Something comes up, I indulge in it for 3 minutes, some guy talking about setting himself a 5 million target and achieving it in 5 years. Inspirational. Well done him. But what I want now is to get out bed, something worth more than 5 million dollars. And thats when it hits me. The inspiration I’m seeking for all long is right here, lying in bed, looking for inspiration. Ironic.

I immediately get up, have some breakfast, get changed and get my cycle out. I go for 30 mins cycling in the near by scenic route.

On my way, I see an older couple on their walk, two young girls sitting on a bench who seem to be in a deep conversation, a family with 3 young children and a dog, a man on his walk. I look around, see the lake, the trees, the leaves that have fallen, and I think to myself: the inspiration I always look for does not lie within YouTube or any movies. That inspiration is me, in me. The inspiration that gets me out of bed, and gets me to see the real beauty of the nature and of human beings.

Seeing that inspiration, believing in that inspiration and choosing that inspiration is difficult. Extremely difficult. But I hope when I look up inspirational videos or movies next time, I think of this experience and choose to see and believe the inspiration that I have within me.

She believes and so she does!

Even in this day and age, it is difficult for a woman to do whatever she wants in life. Forget about her own fears, insecurities and self-doubts, but she also has to answer to others doubts in a woman’s ability to succeed. Sometimes its subtle and hidden, sometimes its very explicit.
I see it all, I hear it all, I might not say anything out loud but I do say ‘F.U’ inside my head and continue to do what I do best- being a Strong Independent Woman with self doubts.

Identity theft!

So for years, I’ve been quite careful about not losing my identity. However, yesterday, for the first time, I lost it. I lost my identity! I lost my identity  to marriage!!

Ok, that’s a little bit dramatic!

So the point is, I  changed my surname to Mathew. A lot of reasons why I did that, some right, some wrong. It sure is difficult for some to engage in that process of changing their surnames after getting married. Whilst it is as painful as it is to let go of an identity that I played so well for the past 25 years, and accept a new identity that I will be playing (well-ish?)for the rest of my life; I sure am glad that it is only my name that is changing because of marriage and not my personality. I will continue to view the world the way I see it, hear the things I want to hear and continue being an A* hole as my husband says, regardless of my marital status.

Beauty-fart

Person1: I’m lucky that I found you
Person 2: I’m the luckiest one
Person 1: I know. You are actually the luckiest one
Person 2: ahh you just wanted to say that. That’s why you said that in the first place eh? You’re not just beautiful but smart too
Person 1: I know, I’m smartiful
Person 2: you are beauty-fart
Person 1: hahahahaha
Person 1: more hahahaHa I’m gonna put that up on fb or blog about it
Person 2: no don’t blog about it. It’s personal

Each to their own

An entry from  Humans of New York          

“We’re getting divorced because we love each other, and we both realize that we don’t have enough of what the other needs. When we decided to get divorced, I wrote a note with all the things I loved about her, and gave it to her. She got very emotional and started crying. Then three days later, she wrote me a similar note. But here’s the thing— she wrote it on the back of a recycled piece of paper. She wrote it on the back of an advertisement or something. So I called her out on it. And she said: ‘I knew you were going to bring that up. If you cared, you wouldn’t mind what it was written on.’ And I said: ‘Well, if you cared, you’d have gotten a fresh piece of paper.'”

What this made me think: Me and S are doomed! We are stuck with each other forever as we never look at what we write on. We would just end up appreciating each other for making the words rhyme or something if it were us.

“Look up”

Let the video speak for itself

Doing the wrong thing is the right thing to do at times

We live in a society where we tend to stick to what provides us comfort and ignore the rest. We choose what’s best for us and then ‘mind our own business’

I came home from work, open the door and I see an envelope lying about with a familiar handwriting on it. I open it and it’s a red cross inspirational card inside. It goes

“(my name)

I am a believer now in trying to do what you can for people around you. You made me believe that. I hope that the good you do, try to do and will do gives you the strength and hope to carry on with your vocation no matter what the hardships. I pray to God that he blesses you with courage and happiness. But perhaps that’s why he has made me. To top up your courage and happiness when the going gets hard.
Do remember
You make me very proud. Every day, every minute, every second

(My man’s name)”

After a long day at work, sure this is a nice thing to come home to. So I left it at my window side. I went back and picked it up to read it again. And that’s when I heard a man’s raised voice. It was the guy next door arguing with his partner. They had their door opened and we have a thin wall so I heard everything (and because I eavesdropped as well-guilty as charged!) The story was that they were breaking up and he asked her if she was going to leave the flat. I could hear the girl’s distant cry. He left the flat after that.

Me being the busybody I am, wanted to bolt down there and see if she was ok. But of course I didn’t. Because I’m a sensible girl! So I sought my mans approval. I presented the case to him. The first thing he said was “you’re not going over”. He does know me eh?! He reminded me that its not right and its someone’s personal life. He was right. He asked me if I’d like it if it was me. I said yes. I was right.
I said to him that I’m going over and I did.

The girl surprisingly took my meddling in business quite well. We had a bit of chat about what happened and she made up her mind. I apologised for prying into her life but she said it had helped her. I offered her a hug AND my Malteser easter egg(big sacrifice for me!). She was receptive towards both of them and I felt great.

I phoned my man back and said what had happened. I begged for credits and I got them. That’s when I said to him that sometimes doing the wrong thing is what’s right. I always had the heart to be there for strangers but never the courage.But Now I do and I am glad I do because my courage brought me immense happiness just there. My man’s prayer to God was certainly answered quickly.

He said he loves me and is proud of me for doing the wrong thing
I said I love him and proud of him for making me me

If we never had that conversation, I would have slept on that thought. If he never sent me that card, I would’ve never known that what it is that I’m made of. They say right things happen at the right times and I say they are right.

Sometimes its easier to get cooped up into our own little den, mind our own business and pretend like we don’t notice the awkward things that happen around us. Unfortunately, its come to the point where that is what’s best for us and the ‘right’ thing to do- minding our own business!

But if you ask me, a little bit of ‘minding’, eavesdropping and hugging wouldn’t do much harm to the world.

And if you ask Jesus, he would say that you should love your neighbour as you love yourself

He who loved the snow!

Photo Credit: Driveway Sledding by Jessie

I met you.. got to know you..got close to you. We were quite a pair. Staying up and talking all night was a tradition that we created for us. You used to stay in the bathroom to get a ‘good reception’ and you never failed to make me laugh with your wild jokes/statements. One of which was about the Arabic girls having really hairy legs. I have no idea what that was about but it always cracked me up.

You were there for me through thick and thin. When I was down, you were down. You were incapable of cheering me up. And I’m glad you never tried. You were really terrible at cheering someone up and lacked the ability to do so. You, however, knew how to be part of someone’s sadness or misery. You were always there to console others when things weren’t going so great.

You taught me to act confident even if I weren’t feeling confident. You told me that I was beautiful. The 16-year-old insecure me called you crazy. You laughed, I blushed!

As we started pursuing our higher studies, dreams, and love life; the picture of ‘us’ started fading away. The space between us grew wider. It was when you phoned me up to tell me that you passed your driving test, I realised that we rarely had time for each other any more. We were growing up without each other. It was wrong. I should have called you up. I should have checked how things were going with your life. I should have told you about the amazing man I found for myself. I should have asked you about the girl/s you were dating at that time. But I didn’t. I didn’t call you up. I didn’t check up on you. And I regret that, more than anything else in this world.

When she phoned me up and said that you passed away, I did not believe her. How could I?! I convinced myself that it was another guy we knew who had the same name as you. I phoned her back. I asked her if it was that guy. All she said was ‘I’m so sorry’. I cried and cried and cried. I was helpless. Everything went wrong. Crying was the only thing I could do right.

People ask me what it is that I had with you. I don’t have an answer to give them. You were like a brother, a lover, a friend, and an enemy, all at once. How do I explain that to someone God only knows?! The night that I learnt about your departure from this world, my better half who never had a chance to meet you asked me to tell him about you. He wanted to know what you were like. And I said, ‘he was an annoying brat who made a lot of girls cry, who made racist jokes, someone who drove me and a lot of others crazy, he disliked dating ‘angelic girls’ but he loved the snow’

You weren’t the perfect being on earth but you were the most care free person. You talked so freely, walked so freely, loved life and the snow.

3 years this week, but the memories I had with you stay as fresh as the snow. And when the snow does fall, I look up the sky, I imagine you looking down on me with a cheeky grin on your face. I still hate the snow I’ll have you know. But I hope you love it up there amongst the clouds, cunningly planning to send the snow down on me to annoy me, creating a lot of havoc for the heavenly members and dating a lot of not angelic girls but angels themselves.

Weekly Writing Challenge