annapoorna food, a prayer meeting and the Stanite Ball

hi there...its Feb 5th and yes, my blog isn't up-to date...but I think I have things under control...just got back from T'pur this morning, went to Ooty yesterday, had gone from Coimbatore to T'pur the day before...these 11 days are being just as jam-packed as I wanted...

I did wake up for the jog on the 31st by the way...in fact, I woke up at 4:30 am and spent the next hour and a quarter waiting till I could call Adarsh and Shiban...called Adarsh at 5:45 am...wrong number...called Shiban...he sounds surprised that I called...says he'll come and pick me up in 15 mins...ask him Adarsh's right number and call again...Adarsh sounds fresh and awake...decide to meet at his house once Shiban comes...

go with Shiban to Adarsh's house...on the way, we pass a slum-like area...goats are tethered to a pillar near a small house...women are filling water in their plastic pots from the common water pump...Adarsh comes out looking satisfied with himself for waking up and announces that he thinks he deserves an Annapoorna meal after the jog...I second it

race away to the jogging area/play-courts near Nehru stadium...go in and decide to walk one around just to warm up...we're definitely one of the lazier groups of young men...reminisce about previous times jogging, abuse officials of Nehru stadium for not throwing it open to the common public and observe the people playing in the play-courts...basketball, football, volleyball...mostly middle-aged men with paunches...lots of shouting...you can make out they're enjoying every minute of it...that they started doing it to get fit but its turned into the most enjoyable part of their days and that they've started doing it on weekends even though the initial plan was to confine it to the week...

the jogging terrain is irregular and random...we weave our way near the football ground and run across the goal, hoping not to be hit...at the far-end, we go up and down a small mound and make two small half-left turns to complete one lap...the walking lap...set ourself a target of 5 laps and start off...Adarsh stays back to do some more stretching...after 2 laps, Adarsh joins us...conversation is sporadic as we focus on trying to preserve our breath...the social pressue exerted by the presence of 2 peers acting as an additional motivator...we finish 5 laps...I fall to the ground satisfiedly, forgetting for the moment that the 5 laps don't even constitute 2 kilometres...Shiban does two more rounds, Adarsh and I talk about management, and we head out...

to Annapoorna, the one near our houses...our refuge for inexpensive high-quality vegetarian food since we were little...for some reason, it feels nice to be going there so early in the morning...we enter and are greeted by the whiff of ghee and dosas and vadas and idlis and pooris...south-Indian cuisine at its most authentic...there are already about 60 people in, sitting around the circular tables...the waiters seem busy but not hurried, the child-cleaners go round the recently vacated tables cleaning the mess...we wash our hands, find a table...I order onion roast, I don't remember the last time I ordered anything else in Annapoorna...it arrives quickly and I tuck in...the combination of the crunchiness of the onion pieces, the crispiness of the roast and the gentle flavour of the sambhar...conversation is about Shiban's pilot career and about friends that have been seen with girls by parents of other friends...I invite them to the prayer meeting at my house that evening, to commemorate my turning 25...and we discuss the Stanite ball that we're attending that evening...on our way out, Shiban picks up an automobile magazine, I pick up a Tinkle, the Indian equivalent of an Archie comic...

dropped home and see The Hindu newspaper lying just inside the gate...why do I always experience a surge of excitement whenever I see The Hindu newspaper for a particular day ? is it because its vivid pictures, clean-cut margins and the optimal balance between white space and black text make for an attractive reading proposition ? or is it because of my being conditioned that way by the countless times I've come down to get the newspaper to pore over the article about the previous day's cricket match, even though I had seen the complete match the day before ? I pick it up and go upstairs...Amma and Appa are having coffee in bed, I nuzzle in between them and turn to the sports-page...habit...

its 8:30 am...have a bath and head out to my Dad's factory at 9:15 am to write notes for my first blog article (after reaching India) ... greeted warmly by the company's second-in-charge...how nice it is when people who work for you also develop a personal liking for you...he enquires about the weather in UK and how I get by for food...comments that I've grown thin and invites me over to his house for pongal...I readily agree...the pongal last time was fantastic...the other factory workers smile politely at me and I smile back...I've always wondered how they viewed me...I'm their boss' son, so they must like me, at least out of loyalty...do they respect me ? they must think I'm intelligent coz of the way Amma goes on about me...do they think they'll work under me some day ? the electricity is out at the moment, so I go to a nearby cyber-cafe to do the blog notes...

come back when the electricity is back, work till lunch time and head back...Ammamma and Thatha are coming soon...along with my little cousin Ajay...I reach home and in 5 mins, I hear Ammamma's voice outside...I go out and see a lanky boy that I don't initially recognise...I look closer...its Ajay !! he's less than 6 inches shorter than me now...he used to hardly reach my knees...his voice has broken and he's 14, a teenager....and I'm 25, a man...undeniably...gosh

we go and have lunch...a very family affair...my parents, my three alive grandparents, Ajay and myself...after lunch, we go up to see the cricket match...Ammamma and Thatha, Ajay and I...I take my customary position in front of the TV...I couldn't count the number of hours I've spent watching cricket from that position, getting up only to relieve the bladder, applaud a Tendulkar century or pump my fist at a wicket by an Indian bowler...I have occassionally sledged the opposition, but sitting down...I like watching my cricket alone...but next best to that, is watching it with Ammamma and Thatha...we talk about how the Indian team has developed a ruthless edge under the new captain Dhoni and how the modern Indian cricketer is more aggressive, confident and in-your-face than their counterparts from previous eras...

its getting to 4:30 pm, so we hastily dress for the prayer meeting and go down...my school friend, also called Ajay, has already arrived and looking particularly anti-social...a common characteristic among my close friends is atypicality and Ajay is a typical case...soon Sudhakar Uncle and family arrive...I go out to meet them and hug Sudhakar Uncle...shake Nalini Aunty's hand...say a warm hi to Rohit...he has cerebral palsy, so he can't talk but he does enough to let me know he's very happy to see me...words aren't always necessary....say hi to Tanya, my newest cousin sister...

soon, the other guests arrive...Franklin Uncle, my father's Christian guide, will be leading the meeting...the hall is full and has a bright, homely feel to it...its time to start but Amma is missing...after 15 minutes, she arrives...she's been dressing up...Franklin Uncle announces we don't have song-books and suggests we sing well-known hymns...after some initial awkwardness, we settle down to sing 'Great Is Thy Faithfulness', 'What a Friend We Have in Jesus', 'Showers of Blessing' and 'This is the Day'...the meeting has acquired a solemn and meaningful tone...

Franklin Uncle encourages us to share things we're thankful to God for...I tense up, coz I know everybody expects me to say something...in fact, it is the central purpose of the meeting...an old Aunty talks about God-given strength after her husband passed away and how God was with her in her recent medal-winning performances in the 70+ Asian Games...she talks boldly and with conviction...what a lady !...applause... a lull...Sudhakar Uncle suggests the 'birthday boy' should say something...nowhere to hide...I start, "I also have a lot to thank God for...", feeling all eyes on me, I continue, "the first is for my PhD funding...its a lot of money and isn't easy to obtain but I was fortunate enough to be offered funding without even applying for it...also, in my last 3 years in the UK, He has been with me...helped me make decisions, find a good church, get good friends...and so many more things....and so, I'd like to thank God for all this"...I look up...and hear applause...Ajay, my friend, is clapping...it must have been good...speaking from the heart counts for a lot...

Nalini Aunty, Appa and Amma also give thanks for different things...Franklin Uncle gives a meaningful message about seeking God first and everything else following on from that...the meeting is turning out just the way I had wished...solemn, meaningful, humble and beautiful...we finish and tea is served...people gather into small groups and chat...Ammamma tells me my testimony was good...and Ajay, my friend, shows my Grand-dad and Adarsh a song he's written...the guests leave and its just the family...

the last time I remember feeling such a sense of family was Thatha and Inna's 50th wedding anniversary...the atmosphere is warm and relaxed...Sudhakar Uncle, Appa and I have a conversation about how genuine (or not) Benny Hinn is...Ajay, my cousin and Tanya call me to play dark-room...I find I'm too big too hide in any inconspicuous space, so I stand out in the open hoping to be mistaken for a cupboard or a lamp-stand...they aren't that dumb

its time for the Stanite Ball, so I get dressed and wait to be picked up...this is the 1st time I'm going to the Ball after leaving school...its a Ball for current and past-students of Stanes School...in school, it used to be filled with excitement...the prospect of the alcohol on offer and of meeting the senior girls that we saw in school and maybe even dancing with them...now, its just about hoping you'll meet some friends you havn't seen in a long time and having good conversation...

the car arrives and we drive to English Club...was it an exclusively British Club during the Raj ? we reach and I feel myself tense at the prospect of such a large social gathering...the music from the dance hall is high quality...Carl Uncle, wouldn't expect any less...enter the hall...most of the crowd is in their 50s...I see a father of a friend...look to my left...spot a senior and some girls who look like they're in school...nobody I particularly want to talk to....make my way through the side door and see an old classmate...relief...we talk about recent news and common friends...congratulate her on the new chocolate business she's started...turn to find a senior, tells me he's about to get married later this year...another one bites the dust...on the far-left, I see my gang, get a beer and join them...

the conversation among my friends is laidback, the odd indiscretion due to rising levels of inebriation...but its difficult to ignore that the general atmosphere in the Hall is sadly lacking...there's a distinct lack of vibrancy, fun, happiness, laughter...any laughter is drunken laughter and the air has the unmistakeable smell of discontent and non-achievement...a brawl between two drunken men breaks out...they're fighting over one of the young girls

Coimbatore has many kinds of people...there are content people, who've worked hard and stood by their principles and done quite well for themselves....they know there are better things out there in bigger cities like Chennai or Mumbai, or London or New York, but they've stayed in Coimbatore by choice...there are other people too...people who are carried away by the prospect of untold wealth and greedily desire it...but don't have the quality or the work ethic to achieve their dreams...their parochial thinking and politicking ways have gotten the better of them and they are in Coimbatore by force, rather than choice...these are also the people who would go to a Stanite Ball, if only to lift temporarily the burden of non-achievement that rests so heavily on their shoulders...

we leave the ball early...and am dropped off by a friend...as I get down from the car, my friend asks if he can vent his frustration about the Ball ...of course he can...for 15 minutes, we talk about the shame of being associated with such a sordid event and how he fears for when he takes his kid to a Stanite Ball in the future, only to be embarassed...we talk about how the generation of our grand-parents had so many respectable people, how the generation of our parents had less of them...how fortunate we are to have respectable parents...how our generation has almost zero respectable people...then, he gives me a huge surprise...he names me among one of 3 people he respects in our generation and stresses he isn't 'just saying it'....I'm thrilled...I've tried hard to build a reputation for uprightness, so this is very gratifying...we decide its time to sleep, decide to gather some friend to play street-cricket the next evening, and say warm good-byes