10 Days To Go

I’m counting the days for Deepavali. This year, November 14 is Deepavali or Diwali, and what makes it more special was, it falls on Children’s day – the birth anniversary of the first Prime Minister of India, Jawaharlal Nehru, who likes children a lot, thus this day is celebrated as Children’s day – and Deepavali is a festival more likely celebrated by the children like bursting crackers, wearing new clothes, and eating sweets. Deepavali is my favorite festival of all time, and I always look forward to this day for nothing but bursting and watching the fireworks. Kids grown up through the 90s could easily relate to what I mean and bursting how much crackers would be the task of the day and see who ends with abundant trashes in front of their homes.

In later years the loudness of crackers had become not my kind of thing, but my passion for fireworks hadn’t come down quite. The night fancy fireworks were my favorite thing from the past decade, and every year I buy fireworks, to only watch it turning my night into delightful light, and colors as someone lit fireworks on my behalf. Deepavali always surges an excitement in me and roll me down the slopes of memories of childhood, what I consider the best part of my entire life despite my belief of best is yet to come. The festival was in a real festive mood then, and the anticipations were high, to look forward to this day all the year perhaps because I was active then to ignite fireworks on my own to see it blast with great joy.

These days I almost forget this day until the day gets closer. My kind of celebration shrinks a lot at every passing year, and I was confined to my house alone rather than going around the neighborhood to enhance my festival mood by watching things happening around relevant to Deepavali. People’s interests had become varied from me, and they have their own set of activities to look after, and I don’t complain about it, and I can’t demand that they should take me out, and on these occasions, it was the cheerful memories of childhood keeps me going. It’s just 10 days to go for Deepavali, and I started to look forward to how to celebrate the festival, despite the pandemic drawback, I wish everyone had their best part of the festival.

In memories of Maya!

She came rolling into my life like a snowball

The furry coat, like snowflakes, goosebump

As she comes caressing around the legs

To lay head, cozily around the wheels

In hope, I won't hurt her, as I lived up to her.

 

She forced into my life like a syringe 

Though it hurt, she eases the pain to the least

Like an ointment over the wound, her licks  

Wet the heart, to hate her, to become impossible 

Unavoidable trouble to walk all our paths to delight. 

 

She’s someone I fought to forget

As her memories are quite fond, to forget

Never did I felt pain like this at the heart

Missing someone ever been closer, to

Share space in the bedroom for eleven years. 

 

She's pressure on life to always end with a cheer

And I ever got angry with her for human error

The black marble eyes often convey a message

Of love, affection, and care in reciprocation

I never dream of her staging a lifeless drama.

 

She’s truly an angel in the world of us

Still, I keep away her thoughts, yet a year to pass

Nothing disturbed me like what she did in my life

The furry soft were spike sharp when I feel at last

She departed, leaving us in the clutch of hearts.

Ps. To know more about her (Maya) click Here

Midnight Rain

The northeast monsoon opened its doors with a bang of a thunderstorm and rain ever like before in the last three years, beginning from midnight to dawn, it poured near 200mm of rain in a brief time. The rain flooded the roads of Chennai city (yesterday) within an hour or two of the downpour, though it drained hours later into the day, the rain at night was such forceful to increased the risk of water entering our home as our terrace got flooded. The overflowing water that cascaded through the staircase filled the balcony and came close to the threshold.

Our threshold is less than an inch high (which we kept it low to allow the wheelchair to cross easily) had come boon in blocking the water, while our uncle’s portion, at the other end of the balcony, with a two-inch threshold, couldn’t stop the water from entering their home! They were busy throughout the night, pulling the water out of their living room since their balcony is a slight decline from ours, the water easily flows into their side to flood the home. And it’s a usual thing that happens with them, whenever it rains forcefully, but before it extends, we need to workout it sooner.

The night was roaring in a thunderstorm and a kind of laser show in lightning. Though I didn’t wake up to see all that happens outside, the sound of the activities and flash of lights conveyed me the drama. The garden of the house (pic above) opposite us was in stagnant rainwater, and it took nearly a day to recede. The metro water workers had dug a couple of digs (pic below) on our street, to clean up the drinking water pipes that was going on for some days, had messed up the place with heavy rains. The meteorologists predicted heavy rains further into the day, but as usual, the weather went in contrast to what they said, and there wasn’t rain after that.

It Rains

It rains as if never going to rain

A trial of the northeast monsoon

Draw trail as if clearing the way

For heavy rain to run down the drain.

 

The day was brighter and sunny

To ever think of raining

Until silvery clouds float in  

To become gloomy and rain.

 

The pitter-patter of rain

Continue its rhyme, wordlessly  

like a kindergarten kid, I

rejoiced singing along the rain. 

The beautiful sunny day in the morning contrary to rain in the evening.

Linking this post with Skywatch Friday

My Experience with Megaphone

There were the days, during the elections, or kind of emergencies, people speak through the megaphone to draw attention or warn people of the upcoming danger.  Sometimes they speak live on the mike, other than playing the recorded voice of the announcement while coming around the streets in the autorickshaw to let people know. The same applied to the announcement of polio drops, every year, had now become a common use by hawkers in selling their items instead of shouting out the throat.

To my memory, I first heard the recorded voice (used by street vendors) was the silk lace buyers in bikes, in urging tone buying old silk lace of any kind at a reasonable price. And regardless of Sundays, they used to wander our street playing the recorded voice as disturbing the leftover peace, and many a time they stop near our home and playback the audio aloud.  Following their footsteps, I heard the same in different words from the sellers of Idiyappam – a rice noodle dish from south India, Kolamavu (chalk or rock powder used for drawing Kolam, a design drawn in front of the houses as an invite to home), Knief grinders; and many others on the track. 

During the lockdown days, some vendors came on the street selling veggies in mini-trucks, as coming out of the home has been restricted, these vehicles pull off the doorstep and their playback is something constant and without a break is a headache. Glad they aren’t often these days after the announcement of relaxation; though I care for their livelihood, the noise they create was a nuisance. Today I found an interesting thing happening right outside the home, where a north Indian hawker, with a bike, loaded with door and floor mats were adjusting his megaphone. And I just watched what he was doing as he handed over the megaphone to a vegetable vendor, who parked on his side speaks over it like one mat 20 rupees, two mats 50 rupees’ in his familiar tone of selling vegetables in Tamil.

It’s apparent that he doesn’t know Tamil and though he may understand, his trouble with colloquial forced to use him on his behalf. He playback the megaphone as the vegetable vendor moves a little,    turned back to respond with a smile. I moved the way hawkers helping each other even if it was a little bit of this. I think about the many vendors who ventured into the south Indian states (or any other state with different languages) to speak or understand, this kind of help from the fellow vendors will improve their business, and hope to survive out of their town. And this is what inspired me to write the post – my experience with megaphones.