Pongal 2023 with Nephews

The Pongal festival weekend went well; however, we couldn't celebrate it in our traditional way of cooking Pongal on a firewood stove. Though mom cooked sweet Pongal in an earthen pot on the gas stove, the taste was not as expected. 

A couple of years ago, we celebrated the Pongal in the traditional style of cooking Pongal, outside the home, on the balcony, or courtyard of the former house on the ground floor, which gives a sense of appreciation for nature that provides us with life. As of now, the festival passes without leaving any special feeling; perhaps we are shifting gears to perceive it as another day.

Unlike earlier, there weren't any programs on television that were interesting or watchable. All television channels rely on serial artists to create all programs, which can only be enjoyed by viewers who follow their serials; fortunately, no one at home watches serials, so I don't have to deal with these tortures. Thankfully, OTTs and YouTube were available for entertainment; I have subscribed to several YouTube channels, but the reality is that I don't have the time to watch them all, and they are either endless or unending. 

In my perspective, the best part of this year's Pongal festival was my nephews. Jeswanth and Kavin, the sons of my cousin's sister and my younger brother, with a nearly six-month difference in age, are doing their sums (troublesome) well. If they both came together, they would turn the house upside down, but at the same time, they would both show their tenderness and innocence, making our time together pleasurable and memorable. 

Kavin

Jeswanth

My cousin's sister is caring for her maternally ill grandma, who is in the hospital, and she has left her child with her parents, who are my uncle and aunt and reside next door. You don't need further details for him to enter our home once their door is open. For Pongal, we dressed the kids in traditional dothi and shirt outfits, which made them much adorable, and they each came up with a prayer bell to ring while worshipping the sun. 

If you forgot, Pongal is our harvest festival and thanksgiving day to all that nature and farmers have given us to survive, and the sun is worshipped on this day as the most important of all-natural elements. I understand that the kids have no clue about this or any other topic till they reach a certain age, but teaching them when they are young to be humble and rational about things will undoubtedly help them sustain and advance in the future. The images of my nephews in this post are from Pongal, and I hope you enjoy them.

Blog, Blogger, Carrom and Kavin!

First and foremost, I'd like to thank everyone for your comments, suggestions, and concern for my emotional well-being in the previous post. It gives me a boost and energy to do something outside my regular activities, which keeps me continually occupied and ensures that I never have a dull moment or allow the dreary weather to cloud my cheery mood. I'm always an upbeat person who tries to grin even when things are unpleasant; even when things are tough, I keep an ear open for tiny notes of birds or other critters tapping around. 

Someone suggested I play Carrom, which was my childhood favorite. 

"Carrom is an Indian tabletop game that is immensely popular in the Indian subcontinent. It is widely played by families, including children, and at social occasions, with varying standards and rules in different places."

Most of our summer vacations were spent playing carrom (along with other games), and when our cousins visited home, we played carrom, but I don't remember touching the striker in the last ten years. I quit playing carrom when my cousins lost interest (because I can't play the game on my own), and I even lost my carrom board in a 2015 torrential downpour.

I have always wanted to play carrom, but my fingers have either stopped cooperating, or I lost the power to hit the striker afterward. My memories of carrom were always refreshing, and I could close my eyes and return to those treasured memories. I also used to stand and play carrom while wearing caliper shoes. 

Me and my cousins playing carrom from 2009.

My carrom board, which was 20 years old when I lost it, has always had a special place in my heart. My late maternal uncle bought us the carrom board in 1994 or 1995, and I took good care of it, even telling my cousins (born after 1995) that this carrom board is like your older brother so they wouldn't damage it. 

Everyone in our families adored our uncle, so you can tell how special he was. He was a philanthropist, not only financially, but his hard work had earned him great value and respect in the eyes of others. So how could I throw away something that remained as a memory of him, and I had only saved a few things that were also stored away in the loft? I could feel his thoughts were settled in the bottom of the memories like sediments underwater that never resurface until something triggered them.

My blog is significant in my life because it allows me to openly share my sadness, joy, and discomfort with life, which I have done for the past 17 years. Nobody supports me as much as you, bloggers, and friends, and your comments meant so much to me. In contrast to other social media today, where people only like and rarely share thoughts, I find your comment communicates with me individually. 

The hurting has never been a new occurrence in my life, and when it overflows, it bursts here in the expression of thoughts, but lately, I have discovered a delight in life. Kavin! 

My nephew Kavin lightens the mood, and I can't think of anything else in his company, and in his embrace, I am lifted to my emotional core since I haven't felt this way in a long time. I couldn't put it into words; when he hugs and kisses me, it's like the bliss of having accomplished something so pure, innocent, and beautiful that it will never be the same again.

It's something I've realized as he's been away from me for a while now; even though his absence was brief since he was visiting his maternal grandma, I feel the void intensely, but when I think of him, it feels unspecified. Though my nephew Jeswanth (my cousin's sister's boy) was the first to give me that emotion after a long time, Kavin, who is only six months younger than him, inspires me more because we live together in a household, and Jeswanth comes and goes from his house. 

Nothing but a little regret!

It was a tunnel called the parental, and there was no light beyond it. No one knows much about me other than a concern, or I don't know that I haven't shown much of myself to anyone curious about the person I am or me. 

Aside from the primary feeling that life will be unbearably difficult without my parents, I worry about how understanding the people around me are. I don't travel far, but within my home and the extended family, beyond my mother and father, there is no awareness of me. 

People see me in my wheelchair all day, but I wonder what they think of me when I'm not sitting in a wheelchair.  Life isn't pleasant sitting in a wheelchair all day, but it is comfort compared to other obstacles such as attending nature calls, bathing, eating, sleeping, and other essential daily demands. I'm just thankful I have an electric wheelchair to get around on my own; otherwise, life would be difficult and timid. 

I just realized that, aside from my parents, the people around me don't know how to handle me unless I guide them. Still, the important thing is that they lack patience (which is a risk factor when dealing with me), and despite living nearby and seeing me daily, they lack the basic knowledge to assist me. They help us simply because we call them, rather than acting in their self-interest.

I was recently emotionally injured, albeit not directly affected, and I am positive it was related to my issue. I often felt like causing problems for someone because of how they behaved or acted hastily. 

It's a blessing and a curse at the same time that I can read the expressions on my loved ones' faces, perhaps because I notice details; even little changes don't escape my attention; the tone and, most of the time, their eyes reveal their intent while their lips go mute or overtalk. 

It all started in 2019 when my father had an angioplasty and stents placed. He had been cautioned not to lift weights, so he no longer lifted me for any position-changing activities. Since then, my brother and cousin have been assisting me with this, and we have only lately employed an assistant to help my parents place me in the bath and toilet. 

We had an assistant at the beginning of 2019, but he only came for one day; when he lifted me, I tore a ligament in my shoulder. We didn't look for anyone after that, but now that I couldn't bear the hardships we caused them, or at least lessen the burden, we seriously looked for a caretaker and got a nice guy through my physiotherapist. He works as an assistant radiologist in an ortho clinic, taking x-rays, and he agreed to assist me on the side.

Everything is going smoothly till now, and my heart also feels light that I won't bother my loved ones too much. Although I know they don't deny helping me at any time when we call, and I want to emphasize "just when we call," they are aware of how much I rely on them, but until we call, they don't reply or ask on their own and sometimes have to compel when they are out somewhere. It's difficult to do justice because they aren't obligated to answer, but I'm grateful for the unconditional help, which is impossible if they don't love me.   And I'm glad that, despite their apathy, they continue to help me, even though I'm upset that they do so without knowing anything about how things work for me!  

Ponniyin Selvan (It's not about the Film) !

Know what's the trend in South Indian social media right now? It's Ponniyin Selvan. In short, PS-1. 

When I first saw the PS-1 commercial on social media, I immediately thought of anything similar to India's PSLV (The Polar Satellite Launch Vehicle). 

Ponniyin Selvan is a well-known classic historical novel in Tamil authored by Kalki that requires no introduction if you are from Tamil Nadu, India's southernmost state. It is a timeless novel that was serialized for three and a half years before being published in five volumes in 1955; now, after many attempts, the book has been adapted into a film by acclaimed filmmaker Manirathnam! 

It is impossible to shrink a five-series novel (a storyline that lasts 8 months) into a three-hour film, so the production team opted to divide the movie into two parts, with PS-1 being the first.   

I have never read such an inspiring and suspenseful historical novel. As captivating fiction, the book tells the story of the greatest king of Tamil Nadu, Raja Raja Chozan, also known as Ponniyin Selvan, and Aruilmozi Varman. I loved reading this book, or more precisely, I enjoyed traveling through it, and it takes us to numerous locations within the Chola kingdom a thousand years ago. 

I had wanted to read this book for a long time. However, I made it in 2022, and I picked the English translation of this mammoth work over the original in Tamil, which I am convinced is more emotional. I  like to read Ponniyin Selvan in Tamil to get that experience again. I've been fascinated by this story for a few months and have become familiar with the characters and wish it could go on forever since I was eager to know what happened next; the novel never lags because the scene varies. 

Even though the book is about Ponniyin Selvan (whose regime the Chozha Empire reached lands beyond the high seas), my favorite character is Vandhiya Devan, the true protagonist who carries the story on his shoulders. Mostly, it was through him we glimpse the beauty of the great Chozha country, and his role in missions was adventurous and exhilarating, adding to the fantastic visions I had throughout the subject. The narration and facts of the Chozha Empire and its clan are fascinating to read and convey the magnificence of the Chozha dynasty. However, pride comes from knocking down a country for revenge, and fighting against other kingdoms only highlights an empire's valor unless the country is in the hold of grief or oppressive rule. 

I am more engaged in this book than in any other book I have read so far, and I was obliged to reread a lot of phrases, paragraphs,  chapters, or scenarios to experience the feel or feel of the content. When I was in the latter half of the series, news about PS 1 started circulating in the media; I strictly avoided everything relevant to the film from entering my consciousness (at least until I finished reading the book) to avoid distractions from the air-drawn imagination I drew. 

Some of the places I visited in Chozha country, such as Thanjavur (the capital of Chozhas at the time of the story), Kumbakonam, Nagapattinam, and Kodikkarai, influenced my imagination. I fantasize about erasing all forms of development and replacing them with wilderness and greenery dotted with small towns and villages and contrasting them with palaces. Every time the story centers on Thanjavur, the fortification and the gateways to the Big Temple and the moat and the river that runs beside it make a magnificent mixture of fort and palaces.

The version (of Ponniyin Selvan) I read was rendered in English by Varalotti Rengasamy; I chose him because when I looked for the book, only he had the entire series of five, so I could read the novel without stopping. I truly enjoy the author Kalki's simple and direct narrative and approach to constructing a plot about the bravest and most powerful kingdom ever known in Tamil Nadu. And crowning it all is the sacrifices of Ponniyin Selvan, according to the author, are the essential component of the story that inspired him to write this magnum work. 

I'm so invested in the book that I believe I could visualize and recall every aspect of it if I decided to sit back and draw scenes without reading it, which is the novel's strength. Please read the book if you haven't already. If you don't want to read, you can watch the upcoming film (releases on Sep 30) instead. But, whether you watch the movie or not, I wish everyone read Ponniyin Selvan. 

Cloudy Eyes

My sky

I look into his eyes 

The cloudy eyes say something 

A query that emits fire in words

Yet an intensity hides behind those eyes.

It's a question of concern or contempt 

I tempt, but I keep my emotions in check.

In a pacified tone, I explained 

What he expects is impossible  

But time will implement everything.

Linking this post with Skywatch Friday

துடிக்கும் இதயம் / A beating heart

துடிக்கும் நெஞ்சு,  துயர் துடைக்க யாரும் இன்றி;

சில சமயம், இறுக்கத்தில், இலகுவாக அணைக்க யாரும் இன்றி; 

இரவெல்லாம் வெறுமையை நோக்கி, விழிபிதிங்கி நிற்க 

நம்பிக்கை எனும் கயிறு தளந்துகொண்டே செல்ல 

எவற்றை சாட, எவற்றை நாட என மனம் தடுமாற  

விதியே என மௌனமாய் செல்கிறேன் . 

கண்ணீர் விட்டு அழ கூட த்ராணியாற்று 

என் துயர் துடைக்க மற்றவர் துயர் அடைய விருப்பம்மின்றி

சிதைந்து கொண்டிக்குகிறது மனது, தசைசிதைவோடு! 

A throbbing chest, with no one to wipe away the sorrow;

Sometimes tightens, with no one to embrace lightheartedly;

To stay awake all night  in search of emptiness

The rope of faith gets unfasten; 

The mind is confused as to what to curse and what to seek

I go silently as it is my destiny.

Don't even dare to cry; 

I don't want others to suffer to wipe away my pain

Mind degenerates along with muscular dystrophy!

Relationship

I feel the distance.

When you couldn't look into my eyes,

I became a stranger.

When you are reluctant to utter a word,

I moved away.

When your silence breaks my heart,

I turned back to see 

You slipped out of my sight.