Germany and football!

Germany winning the football world cup this week is the biggest source of joy for me personally. Reason being that I was in Germany during the first meeting of the same two teams, namely , Germany and Argentina , in the world cup final in 1986. I was a typical chennai girl at that time, with hardly any exposure to sports and least of all,  football. So during my stay when the world cup was underway, I could not understand the frenzy that surrounded the game there. It was funny for me to watch people glued to their tv sets whether it was in the office or at home. They spoke of nothing else than football at all times. With limited knowledge of the language then, I was not greatly influenced by their chats but then it was personally boring for me, since I neither understood the game, nor the football fever that grips the population there. I was totally ignorant of how great it is for a national team to qualify for the final until I had to step out on the day of the final and was on the road for about half an hour during the match time, and it was scary. There was not a single soul on the road for miles ahead and my friend who was driving the car was driving at top speed of 200km/hr to reach home to watch the match. I was petrified and for the first time, I realized how much this game meant to this European nation. Maybe all the European countries and even the south american countries are under the same intoxicating influence of this game.

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But I had first hand experience of seeing it, living with it, in Germany and it was sad that they lost the finals that time. Even a double championship in tennis (both Boris Becker and Steffi Graf won the singles titles that year) could not be a consolation for the citizens with that biggest loss in football.
After my stay in Germany, back home , I started watching football matches and especially during the world cups. Again 4 years later, these two teams were the finalists and this time , I understood the craze this game generates worldwide and was cheering wildly for my adopted country, Germany. They won and every world cup after that, I stopped watching the matches, once Germany lost and was never interested in any other country playing the game in the finals. I was becoming a crazy German fan while watching football and hence it was a sweet and memorable moment this time around where the country made me sit and watch them till the finals.
Kudoz Germany!

Finding appa

I thought I was close to my father, like all daughters who think so and was shaken to realise that I knew only one side of him and had not noticed the fascinating other side of him. My father, as I knew him, was a very patient, not so disciplining, but loving and caring father, Though he was not physically present in most of the important occasions in my life, I knew his heart was with me and felt very blessed that he chose to stay with me during his last days.  He was intelligent, witty and very well read and admired by people who knew him. I got to know him better only during the last few months of his life when he stayed with me after my marriage. Till then, I grew up without realizing that I was the daughter of a genius who was a walking encyclopedia. For me he was the man who brought me lovely dresses and loads of chocolates after each of his trips abroad and who cracked the best jokes in the world and was chilled out even when I carelessly lost valuable items or didn't do well in the exams. I was also scared and intimidated by his knowledge and would pray everyday that he didn't ask me awkward questions about my studies or whether I have read about random stuff he could come up with. He was a voracious reader and had tons of information about any subject under the sun. I was nowhere close to him in this aspect.

But still he was my lovable friend, philosopher and guide and gave some valuable advice regarding life in his own cool style without imposing his opinions on me.
Now after his death, various people come up to me and chat with me about my father, recall incidents about him, narrate how great a man he was, how generous he was etc. I get to know more about him than he was alive .

I learnt about my father's struggle as a young boy when both his parents passed away in quick succession and he had 5 younger siblings to take care of. The kids did not have anything to call their own, as they had sold everything to take care of their ailing mother. My father, who was just 15, with his 5 younger siblings (youngest one being 3 years old), had to take refuge in his grandmother's  house. He had to walk miles everyday after school to take tuitions to meet his expenses for education. Despite not having even two full meals per day, he was outstanding is his school and later on, in college.  He worked as a lab demonstrator earning a paltry sum and could not continue his higher education. But he managed to answer a difficult chemical quiz in an international science journal and the professor from Germany who posted the quiz was impressed by my father's knowledge that my father was invited to Germany to do his higher studies free of cost.

Recently , I came to know that my father has done his research work under Dr. Heisenberg, the Nobel laureate from Germany who is considered as God of quantum physics. In fact, my father, it seems , was the only Asian to have worked under him. I never knew this fact or the topic of his research and I never even asked my father about his student life and his research work.
Its a lesson learnt that we actually do not know our parents or siblings so well though we feel we are close to them. we are all immersed in our day to day life and its chores that we fail to recognise or take time to share the trials and tribulations of our family members.
This post is a tribute to the greatest soul in my life who would have turned 80 this week if he had been alive and also a post to say sorry to his soul for failing to understand his greatness!

Nature is giving it back!

As an Indian citizen , it pains to see people having total disregard to nature.  In a city of millions like Mumbai, its a tough ask for the state government to pull up people who abuse nature or treat mother earth with total disrespect. For me personally, it is appalling to see people spitting, urinating and throwing garbage at will at public places. Public toilets are badly maintained and overcrowded. There are never enough trash cans at public places and the few that are there are overflowing with garbage. There is no proper system for garbage disposal and the city totally stinks during the monsoon.
I am scared to step out of my house during monsoon for the fear of catching some infection walking around in the overflowing sewage water. (My earlier blog post on the same topic"Moaning in the Monsoon" dated 13/07/2009 ). This week , Mumbai sea was giving it back to the city. Usually there are warnings about high tide before the monsoon. Despite the warnings, people throng to the beaches to witness the high tide. This time, high tides were fun to watch till they hit the bystanders. It showered them with all the garbage they had been throwing into the sea for years no end. When I saw the pictures in the newspaper next morning, I was literally clapping my hands and even wanted to give a pat on the back of mother nature. There is only so much one can take and I think, its time we repent our doings and face the wrath of nature. But its also scary to think what else we would be facing in the future due to nature's fury.

This is how the very famous, supposedly beautiful Marine drive looked after a high tide episode this monsoon. Hope Maharashtra tourism board add this to their places of attraction during monsoon!.

IPL, the circus or tamasha!

My interest in the gentleman's game over the years has been directly proportional to the matches in which my favourite players (read handsome players!) played. With the IPL fever at its peak during summer for the past 7 seasons, I watch the matches in patches (oh, my writing skills have improved, what with rhyming words.....watch, match and patch in the same sentence!) when my favorite team CSK (chennai Super kings....as the name suggests my hometown team) plays.
Despite hearing a lot of superlatives about watching a match live in the stadium, I have never had the opportunity or inclination to go watch one in the stadium. Five days long test matches and 50 over one day internationals were so boring and long that I was never tempted to waste my whole day watching the game live and commuting back from the stadium late night was another issue. But recently, my husband got tickets for an IPL match in which my favorite team CSK was playing against the local lions from Mumbai. After a long thought about how long we can watch the match and ideal time to return home , dinner arrangements etc, we both decided to go and watch the match live. What an experience it turned out to be!
The carnival called IPL could be experienced right from the time we alighted the train at the station that was close to the stadium. There were small time vendors who were selling the team flags, t-shirts and even team coloured wigs and they were doing brisk business. I could see lot of young girls and guys busy munching and drinking whatever they could before entering the stadium because carrying your own food or even water bottles were banned inside the stadium.
Once inside the stadium, I was behaving like a kid lost in a village mela. the stadium was jam packed, loud speakers were blaring the latest bollywood music, cheer girls were dancing with a pasted smile and media men were busy setting up their screens and cameras. There was too much going on at the same time to observe everything. In fact amidst all the noise I even failed to notice that the match had started and the deafening noise after each boundary or six that was hit or a wicket that fell made me feel dizzy. Sultry , sweaty atmosphere with no water to quench the summer thirst made me feel nauseated and even the fact that CSK was playing well didn't cheer me up. I just wanted to get back home away from the noisy and stuffy stadium.
Hubby dearest who was enjoying every bit of the match (in other words, the small jigs from the cheer girls!) had to grudgingly come out of the stadium half way through the match because of me. The breath of fresh air and the sea breeze outside was in stark contrast to what I experienced inside.

I am sure no amount of cajoling or temptation in the future is going to drive me to watch a match in the stadium. I would rather watch it in my comfortable cool living room with loads of goodies at hand and enjoy the TV commentaries than the loud bollywood music or artificially enthusiastic jigs of cheer girls!

Chithi

Among all the roles that I have to play as part of a huge family, most favorite one is the role of chithi (tamil term for aunt, mother's younger sister). I am the fourth daughter in law in my husband's family and hence called chithi by all the kids in the family. On my maternal side too, being the younger daughter, I am the chithi to my sister's kids. . My nieces and nephews open up to me and consider me to be their pal and we have a good time, joking, laughing and sharing anecdotes.
Chithis being the younger daughters of the family share a special bond with their sister's children as they are first kids they get to handle even before marriage and having their own kids. This definitely makes the bonding special and a lasting one too.
I shared the same warmth and comfort with my own chithi. As a college student, I used to run to her place , spend time, eat all the delicacies prepared by her and generally have a very rejuvenating breaks from my routine. I could discuss matters with her which I wouldn't discuss with an elder otherwise. she was a very dependable soul-mate. There was never any hesitation to talk about any topic under the sun nor any awkwardness in her presence. I would even find faults with her beliefs and practices and she would take it in her stride. After years of my marriage, my chithi stayed with me for over two weeks and we had a great time, it was like having my best friend with me. she cooked my favorite recipes and we chatted 24x7. I would count those days as one of the best in my life.
She passed away this week after brief illness but her memories and the best times we shared would stay eternal. The best tribute to her would be to be the best chithi to my nieces and nephews. I am sure all the chithis who share special bonds with their elder sister's children would agree with this topic and share my sentiment.

Election campaigns

Thinking of my mother in law who passed away a few months back at the ripe old age of 85 and my late father  during these days of election campaigns. Why particularly now am I reminded of them?  

My mother in law was a very soft-spoken and kind soul who did as many chores as possible whenever she was around. She took turns to stay with her five sons and had to adjust living with five different women as her daughters in law. Her favourite quote was that its easy to adjust with one mother in law for us than she adjusting to five daughters in law. Though my mother in law wanted to be active within the limitations of her physical strength, her sons , daughters and daughters in law were quick to remind her that she is getting older and she must take rest and enjoy life and not bother herself with the regular chores. Though all this was said because of the affection we all had for her, in the long run, I personally felt that not allowing the elders in the family to actively do what they want is in a way inhibiting their freedom and cutting down their satisfaction that they are doing something purposeful.  It was the same case with my father. He wanted to be active till his very last day, wanted to write books, go around the town to meet his friends (despite being a amputee) , wanted to start his own business venture even past his 70s and we were quick to reprimand him for these and remind him that he was old and not fit enough to do all he desired for.

This sentiment about not allowing the elders to do what they like the most without reminding them that they are older is proven wrong when we observe the recent election campaigns in India . There was this interesting piece of news in the papers that most of the party leaders who were actively campaigning for their parties were mostly septuagenarians or octogenarians (Karunanidhi of DMK is 90, being the oldest of the lot) . I am sure their family members too are a worried lot who think why should their father or uncle tour around the country so much at this ripe old age? But, I am sure these aged leaders enjoy their active lifestyle so much that they would not want to miss the opportunity to be useful to their respective parties. They are the shining examples to prove that age is just a number and its the mind that matters. But as an ordinary citizen would I allow my aged mother to do something on her own and give her the freedom to enjoy her time without being unduly worried whether she would fall sick doing some chore or without feeling irritated that she need not do a particular chore at that age? I am not so sure about myself! But giving the freedom to the aged is a valuable lesson this election campaign has taught me. 

Summer vacations

We are already making plans for summer vacation trips. Till about a couple of years ago, we were making the mandatory annual vacation trip to chennai from Mumbai without a second thought. But for the past two years we realize that children have grown up and they no longer have company to enjoy the vacation when we go hopping from one relative's house to the other in the sweltering heat of chennai. All the kids in the family have grown up and each one is busy with their own summer plans. Its no longer a family get together that was a few years back.  I also pity the children of this generation who are pushed by parents to attend various summer camps and endless list of classes. I am reminded of my own childhood where summer vacations started the day we finished our exams and were packed off to our native village.

All the cousins used to come to our village in summer, and what a great time we used to have! Early mornings were equivalent to summer classes when we had to learn cycling and swimming from our uncles and cousins who were already experts in them. In fact, I used to be scared of the swimming classes because it was not a typical pool like those in the cities where we could learn swimming. We were pushed into the wells in the farm lands to learn swimming. These wells had no walls and were  huge in circumference at the ground level. Beginners had to climb down the stone steps inside the well and had to jump into the water with just a rubber tyre around the waist. With passing days, the level we had to jump from the stone steps was increased and the final class was to jump into the well from the ground level without entering the well through stone steps. Although it was scary we enjoyed it thoroughly. After the strenuous sessions of swimming, we were treated to fresh mangoes and huge glasses of sugar cane juice right in the fields. It was bliss and after an hours trekking back from the fields to home we used to feel so tired and hungry that even ordinary regular fare during lunch used to taste heavenly. Then afternoons were the time to play chess (boards engraved on the floor) and five stones (a game typical for girls where we had to throw five stones up in the air and catch them in various patterns). Evenings were for theatre activities. Couple of cousins used to become script writers (not that they wrote great plays), couple of others were make up artists (read as experts in using kajal to create moustach)  and all the senior cousins were part of the cast. Juniors, despite showing their unhappiness about not being select for the main cast were in charge of managing the audience ( a handful of neighbourhood kids) and creating music and background score with kitchen utensils. Initial few days used to be spent in writing scripts (which was changed every day and every hour depending on how the script writer got along with his/her cousins, whether everybody agreed to the script) and practising the lines and last couple of days used to be dress rehersal (wrapping around old sarees and dhotis of elders used to generate so much laughter among the kids). Most of the times , the final play would not be enacted since the main cast would have already gone back after their vacation. Though it used to be disappointing for the rest of the kids, it never bothered them when the play was planned the subsequent year.
Come to think of this generation, I feel sorry for the kids who never experience such creativity and enjoy vacations in sync with the nature.