The Yarn Factory

The unspeakable has happened. This has happened never before, atleast to me. Since it was totally unexpected, I had no idea how to react. I was in the throes of this serious medical condition, when this happened. Fortunately, it seems to be a respite from the anathema.

Yes, gentle readers, I have been tagged, by none other than Sleeping Devil.

I have read some blogs where the authors decline to tag up a tag. I know very well the futility of such an exercise when confronted by such a formidable adversary as the Sleeping Devil herself, therefore I will not act like a cow being led to slaughter, rather responding to the tag in a dignified manner.

For those of you who did not visit the tag link above(I know you didn't), this is what the tag is all about:

1. Link to your original tagger(s) and list these rules in your post.

2. Share seven facts (or more) about yourself in the post.

3. Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.

4. Let them know they've been tagged.

Given that I talk talk and talk only about myself in my posts, such a tag seems rather meaningless, but I will try to let you on some hitherto unknown facts about me. Here goes:

1. I am an engineer by education, but a journalist/novelist/columnist by ambition. Someday this ambition too shall come true.

2. I harbor severe atheistic leanings. However, lacking the courage to reject God outright, I cannot proclaim myself an atheist without fear of risking God's wrath.

3. I am extremely straightforward and am a stickler for rules and procedures. Very often, this attitude backfires on me, yet I act again, refusing to give up. In most situations, I try to tell the truth, only resorting to lies under duress.

4. I love to drive. Friends have found my passion for driving undiminished even after 8 continuous hours at the wheel of a non-cooperative vehicle, in unforgiving conditions.

5. I cook very well, being trained from a very young age by mom and sis. I know enough to cook atleast three four-course meals without repeating a dish.

6. I am a voracious reader. I read any author, any genre. At those rare times in my life when I am far away from a library, I even read user manuals of household appliances. No kidding, this one.

7. I love rain more than anything else. Nothing like a deluge to get my spirits high. Thunder and lightning mark most of my creative outbursts.

There. I have successfully responded to the tag. I am required to tag seven others, but I know nobody else who reads this blog AND has a blog of their own. If, however, you fall into this category, please consider yourself tagged, and do the needful.

P.S: Nowadays, I have been working on something quite outside my path-familiare, therefore please forgive the slow pace on the blog. I promise you I will have something to show for at the end of it.

I was very shy and quiet as a child. Like any other child, I too used to get into violent fights and brawls, but only with those kids who were very close to me. The outside world would see me as a docile young kitten with a mild temperament and impeccable manners. So much so that when Mom told others of the thrashings sis was subjected to at my hands, they thought Mom was a habitual liar(Mom dropped the complaining habit soon after). No, I wasn't doing it unconsciously. I quite often went out of the way to be polite and nice to people. This habit of mine put me into a discomfiting situation one fine day. I should have seen it coming.

Every summer, we used to make a trip to our native place in Kerala. It used to be a whirlwind tour, visiting our aunts, uncles and cousins, as well as those of our parents. Since we were the only members of the family outside Kerala at that time, at each home, we were given receptions befitting royal visits. Mango and jackfruit delicacies at every home(Mom used to carry a strip of Digene in her purse permanently. We used to pop one into our mouths each time we came out of one house, before going into the next one).

This happened when I was ten or eleven years old. We had gone to visit my grand-aunt(Mother's aunt). She was known throughout the extended family to be an excellent cook(Relatives visiting her home used to time their visits to coincide with lunch or dinner. She was that famous). So off we went to visit her, empty stomachs and all. As expected, there was a delicious spicy fragrance greeting us at the gate. We eagerly went in and greeted grand-aunt, and after the customary greeting, she invited us to sample a seasonal delicacy that she had made for us. This was where it all started.

Mom and sis accepted immediately, whereas, for some strange reason, I decided to play the decent guy. In a very formal and polite vein, I declined(the plan being that she would insist, and then I would accept. And then polish off whatever was placed in front of me). I had not accounted for the informal and unrefined(albeit loving) attitude of these people who lived in the beautiful countryside, far away from the polished etiquette of city life.

She said, “Looks like our little boy is not hungry. It's ok, you both eat. Come on”.

And I sat there watching my mom and sis gorge on the delicacies, while I had to be content with the smells and sights of the delicacy being devoured. Aunt couldn't get why sis was laughing her head off. Years later, to this day, the story is recounted at every family function, embarrassing me to no end. But one thing is for sure – I have learnt my lesson!!

Embarrassments seem to follow me around. Most of these situations are my doings – situations that I create out of my own naivety, stupidity or carelessness. I curse myself when I fall into such situations, but who do I blame when embarrassments are gifted by those around me!!

Case in point. Couple of years back, my uncle used to stay and work abroad. Aunt used to attend college in Bangalore, commuting to and from our home. She used to visit her in-laws place in Chennai every couple of months, and my cousin Deepak or I used to take turns and accompany her on the trip. Aunt is the jolly kind who has no qualms in coming down to our level and clowning around with us. Therefore, we used to take every chance to go with her on the trip and have loads of fun.

This particular trip happened during the summer vacations, and since both Deepak and I were free, both of us set out to Chennai with aunt. I even laughed at Mom when she cautioned us against all three stepping out of the house together (I clearly remember taunting Mom for her superstitious beliefs. Ayyo). We reached the station in time to find that the railways, in all its wisdom, had assigned two seats on one side of the aisle and the third on the other side. Deepak was already smirking when he saw me settling down on the lone seat across the aisle. He turned his attention quickly to the happenings on the platform, while I sat quietly and sulked. Aunt attempted to cheer me up, but nothing was working – I was sullen.

There was a Chennai maami sitting next to aunt, and aunt was being checked out keenly. Aunt had been to a friend’s wedding previous day, and had her hands anointed liberally with mehndi. She was also wearing some jewellery since she was going to her in-laws place. Maami put two and two together and was soon whispering into her husband’s ear. The husband looked grumpy, but after some skillful cajoling by maami, came to me and told me that maami would move over to where he was sitting, he would sit in my seat, and I could sit next to aunt. After some compulsion, I agreed, mumbling my thanks.

A few minutes after I had settled down, maami looked over and smiled at us. I smiled back. And then maami dropped the bombshell – “You are made for each other. How long ago did you get married?” Aunt and I looked at each other in shock and confusion, while Deepak burst out laughing. While aunt was, in between bouts of laughter, explaining the situation to maami, I was hoping that the floor of the compartment open up and swallow me up. Sadly, Indian Railways does not offer that facility on its trains.

Embarrassments happen to me on an hourly basis. When embarrassments happen in the company of strangers, in most cases, you could attempt to save face by putting on a nonchalant expression as if to say “This is no big embarrassment, I infact intended it this way”, whereas there is no scope for such maneuvering when embarrassments happen in the company of friends and family. Could embarrassing situations turn out to be potentially dangerous? They could, as I found out on a family outing.

My sister visits us from the US every year, and when she does, we hit our familiar sightseeing circuits in Bangalore like Lalbagh, Bannerghatta National Park, etc. Nowadays, we choose destinations based on my niece’s age and choices. This year’s demand was to see Bannerghatta, so that was where we went to. There is a general perception in my family that I am very careless (not entirely uncalled for, in my opinion, but which I nevertheless, for ego-sake, fight tooth and nail). Simple incidents like dropping a pencil are enough to trigger this off (“You are very kher-less”, Dad thunders. “Tch-tch”, mother goes. Sis giggles in a way that only gals can, ripping off the shreds of self-respect that I am clinging to). This trip was a spectacular demonstration of my carelessness, and provided much mirth to everybody involved, except me and the other party involved.

Strolling around the park, the other men-folk had their hands full carrying essential items like bags of chips, biscuits, “etc”. The girl-folk ran off to point out the animals and giggle some more. The women-folk were engrossed in issues of their own. So the niece was left in my care, and we strolled around contentedly, hand-in-hand. I am usually a quiet person, and so is the three-year-old left in my care. So we strolled around the animal cages, just watching the animals and birds, not talking much. She would sometimes run ahead for a closer look at the animals, then come back, take my hand, and off we would go. Over time, unbeknownst to any of us, my niece and I were separated from the group.

A little while later, I grew conscious of many people watching us as we strolled through the exhibits. The holiday crowd was most families around Bangalore. Women briefly glanced at us before averting their eyes, while the men looked at us with a snigger. I sniggered back, wondering what was wrong in walking a three-year-old kid around animal cages. The sniggers and averted eyes followed us around. At long last, I saw our group at a distance, and hurried us along towards the family.

They were grinning too. Hey wait a minute, who was that holding on to my sister’s hand? Was that my niece?? I turned to my left side to see who was holding on to my hand, and horror of horrors, it was a girl of seventeen-eighteenish!! It all came flooding to me in a minute – I had taken some random person’s hand and strolled on, without realizing that I had separated from my niece. The kid had found her way back to her mom, while I cavorted through the zoo with a stranger on my arm. What’s worse, the girl realized what had happened only when I jerked my arm away in shock and confusion. Instant reaction – she started weeping. It fell to my mom and sis to comfort her, while dad had to calm down her livid father who had arrived at the scene.

And I stood there red-faced, unable to say a word. And just as things were calming down, I heard a lady whisper to her friend “The boy and girl are lovers. They came to the park to roam in each others’ company, and now their parents have caught them together”. Oh no, the ignominy. I am careless.