Remnants
Maybe I have left remnants of myself in the past
A certain smell, taste and feel, all my five senses collude in keeping me locked
up there
A certain way I smiled, the innocence of course and above all the hope that shines through even in the B & W pics
Maybe I continue to do so And surely that's why I'm often called out as living too much in the past
Like this old picture of my grandma drying the spicy hot vadams- in the
summer ritual of making the dough in the wee hours of the morning and laying
them out to dry in the hot summer sun
How certain drawers in my parents flat I open cautiously afraid of what might
tumble out and rekindle my reminiscing
How this salwar that I'm wearing in this
old pic once again transports me back - of cycling furiously to tuition in the
rain on the large Atlas cycle, Train journeys and Summer holidays to Trichy and
Gandhigram
And ooh how this perfect concoction of sour, sweet and spicy and crispy wafers
in this Grand Sweets Cornflakes mixture with the occasional slightly stale
dried/desiccated coconut takes me right back to many a lazy Madras evening
And most importantly certain mannerism/ speech/ and of course tempers and angers
of people who are no more with us.
In a house full of people and dogs it was
difficult to carve out your space and identity and I was too young to fathom all
this.
But my goto identity for all those years in and outside the house, in and
outside the country was and continues to be Ammakka.
These pictures show her for
what was quintessentially her- a mother, grandma and great grandma taking care
of children.
She literally made child rearing a science (though she called it an
art), with regiment like schedules and processes.
I miss her voice over the
line saying "Naa solradhu correcta Anju, Ammaka ku yenna theriyumnu nanikarae
la"- Is what I'm saying correct Anju, you are thinking what does she know right?
A treasure trove of knowledge from the past, even in her 90s she could still
reel off dates and years of significant happenings both personal and political.
I have phone recordings of her explaining the different Tamil measurements used
in her child and adulthood which is basically circa 1920s.
I miss and yearn for
her wisdom some days where you feel things are stacked against you and its a
lonely long fight.
Ultimately though living in the past does have negative connotations/consequences, I do
believe it can enrich you/remind/recollect to you- your true self worth and all
that you were meant to be.
And renew hope like when you were just a wee girl on
the swing trying to touch the sky with your toes with every upward push.
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