THOSE FIVE DREADED WORDS

Everyday somebody kindly tells me those five dreaded words nobody wants to hear- 'You have put on weight'. I never know how to respond- with humble gratitude for pointing out something I confront daily in the mirror, with dismay and stern resolutions broken before I even utter them or do I go rabid and froth and foam in the mouth or should I be genteel and sarcastically note that I am still slimmer than them ( strangely the fatties are the first to point out weight gain, must have a nose for it like food, we will come to the ugly buglies later) and when I reach their size I shall kill myself but until that distant day I can live with this, thank you very much!.Or do I thunder out like a judge that they are dark and fugly (fat and ugly) and bald to boot but without a gavel in my hand I doubt if I can pronounce judgement on others.
 I usually find myself blank with dismay partly because, yes, I have put on weight and my first panicked thought on hearing their comment is "Oh no, they noticed!" and my second thought is "Why are they so nasty?" I am still trying to figure the second one out since I can never make a mean comment to anybody. Oh yes, I think mean comments like a dozen times per second, I tend to pass catty comments well out of earshot and far behind one's back but I will be darned if I go quaking to hell on the charge of making a person feel like shit.
We humans are unique in that we literally size people up and feel free to comment on that size and shape. I am pretty sure that in the animal kingdom when a bald eagle meets another bald eagle it's first comment will definitely not be " Little thinner on top eh?". Humans have that unique streak of cruelty not found in animals and weight is that sitting duck which makes anybody fair game.
What perplexes me and let's be honest, vexes me most is that I am not fat.Yes, I am not as skinny as I was in my teens, definitely not as svelte as in my twenties, certainly a far cry from the hour glass figure of the thirties but dammit I am in my mid-fifties and still have a flat tummy and a head full of hair. Yes, there is more meat on the bones, ( appealing I might point out in some cultures) but why should that be the focal point in any civilized conversation or made out to be a calamity one must deal with immediately?
If weight is the number one bludgeon of choice to beat one on the head with, a close second is the other five word dreaded question in our Indian society -Why isn't your son/daughter married? This question reduced me to a blathering wreck when I had a bachelor son- never mind that I nagged him to death about marriage or kept asking in shriller tones why wouldn't he get married and sniff disdainfully when he said he was waiting for his 'soul mate'.
Such a beautiful answer once you have married off your son but when asked this question by well meaning friends and relatives I could never come up with an answer that would loosely translate to "Shut the fu#k up!" Like the proverbial deer in the headlights I would freeze, then flounder, all the while in a panic mode thinking "Oh no! why isn't he married, this soul mate stuff is all very well but now these vultures are sniffing out a dead excuse..."
The schadenfreude is worst- you know, that bloody shadow friend who pretends to look out for your best interests at heart while secretly she wants to drive a stake through yours. If they have not already impaled you on the weight issue "You look healthy now (read fat!), you look young ( read plump!) you look nice ( read matronly!) all delivered in that smug, condescending tone that makes you want to make them into a shadow on the ground, they then stick you with the weightier issue- your unmarried progeny!.
But, halleluiah, there is a thing called Karma and it usually bites the bum of the meanest.When my older son was still an eligible bachelor and all our forays into various matrimonial sites only dug up mushrooms even a pig would disdainfully sniff at, one of my schadenfreude buddies kindly told me to "Stop running around in skimpy clothes ( I am a fitness trainer and my short shorts got her goat) and find a wife for your son". And, wouldn't you know, the match of my son's dreams, his 'soul mate' was found when I was in my skimpiest swimsuit and spoke to my swimming buddy about the bride hunt.That my son's wife was beautiful and I sealed the deal half naked made my 'friend' eat crow, sorry chlorine!
Now that I am still a couple of pounds (ok, ok, round it to ten and I refuse to admit to more) overweight and still have another bachelor son to 'marry off' I have decided that Karma is my best ally. And to those five dreaded words aimed like a bazooka at my head and heart I will not shoot my mouth off in return- I shall keep swimming in that skimpy outfit and let Karma do all the talking!
Nimmou Nilakantan

My Special Mother

Every year I used to ring up Amma on Mother's Day. "Happy Mother's Day!" I would trill. "Aiyyo" she would respond, "you are the only one who remembers to wish me". Now, there are four of us and Amma thought, like synchronized swimmers, we should do everything together. So, though Amma's statement was true at 7 am, I knew by the end of the day all four of us would have come good. For Amma, it was always ' that moment' that mattered.

"No one gives me flowers" was another pet peeve and later when a bouquet arrived from Suddha in Boston, she went into raptures about Meena Periamma's darling children, much to my annoyance. When I did buy Amma flowers, she scolded me for 'wasting Nila's money' ( it never struck her that I did earn a few paltry pennies of my own!) or she would say " Oh no, I have no vases ya, where will I put them?" .But Amma did love receiving flowers, second only to receiving phone calls with all the burning news.

Conversations with Amma had no beginning or ending. She never bothered with a greeting but just picked up from where she last left off. If she had  asked me to eat oats the previous evening, her morning phone call would begin with " Nimmou, did you eat oats?' and when I sarcastically retorted "And a very Good morning to you Ma..' she barely let me complete the sentence before picking up on two key words- "Good" and " Morning" and go off on her pet peeve... " Good Morning Pah! what bloody good morning, that bitch Pooja did not come and my heart is killing me..."

Then having said her piece she would ring off to pick up the conversation later in the day. I miss that most about Amma- her skipping the inanities and just cutting to the chase. Of course, when she was alive, i berated her constantly about it, not that she let it bother her. Her infamous weapon in her armoury of advice to Nimmou was " Eat oats and say Om"- neither of which I did and thus according to Amma suffered from poor digestion and a weak mind.

I miss you Amma. I hope the angels give you a bouquet of red roses in heaven and you are surrounded by souls who appreciate the wisdom in all your words. And, look down and know your daughter has never stopped loving you.

Happy Mother's Day...

CONSIDERATION- A NEW PERSPECTIVE

Treat your parent with love but more than that, treat them with consideration especially when they are old and you are an adult. What is consideration- Con Side Ration, which means you ration the con side when giving them any news.

When you were a kid, at the drop of a hat you ran whining and whingeing to them about your troubles. You always laid the dead rat at their doorway and they dealt with it. STOP DOING IT NOW.

They are old and they have enough trouble dealing with a thing called life without having a fractious ‘kid adult’ throwing at them problems regarding job/ spouse/ health ad nauseum.

Resist the urge to trumpet every achievement- they cheered your hideous art projects in school, sat through dull performances and now don’t make them clap with trembling hands.

Just because you are busy, do not be inconsiderate of their time. While the days remain the same length, time has slowed for them because they too have slowed down. Everything takes longer giving them less time to do it in and here’s the irony- they become busier doing less and hence their frustration.

Don’t add to it by taking chunks of their time with your problems. Your parents are not going to be around forever. Give them love without responsibility.

Now, behave like a responsible adult and stop crying on their shoulder- seek out your spouse and teach them the first lesson of marrying you- how to shoulder responsibility!

Nimmou Nilakantan

MOURNING

MOURNING

When your wife of  nearly six decades, passes away, you mourn not just her death, you are also bereft of your life, as you knew it. For 56 years you had your mate by your side and even if she was not physically present every moment of those years, like a vine she was entwined in the very fabric of your being. And, when that vine withered it was the mighty oak which supported it, that fell with a mighty crash.

And no one gets it.

They sympathize with your loss, they empathize with your loneliness but they just do not understand that you are faced with not one loss but two- her life and the life you had, with her.

The older you are the harder it is to uproot and re-invent yourself as a single entity. The pillar has gone and the edifice has nothing to support it.

In actuality, it is the reverse- the building has gone and with it the pillar, with nothing to support begins to crumble.

The bulwark needed the burden.

Community, children, grandchildren, friends are just tentacles that twine themselves around, seeking solace in offers of help, not realizing that what is left is a brittle shell crumbling bit by bit, wanting desperately not for words of comfort, but to join the one who has run their race.

Nobody wants to be left behind either in life or in death....

Nimmou Nilakantan

July 3rd 2013

The Marriage Ring

THE MARRIAGE RING

Why is marriage still looked upon by society as a cure for all evils? Earlier, when someone suffered from epilepsy marriage was touted as the best remedy. As if faulty circuitry in the brain could be re-wired by a legalized romp in the sack! Today, though India is in the league of economic giants, sadly we remain minnows in the face of a vengeful society that persecutes the unmarried. We have marriage forums like Bharath matrimony, Shaadi.com, Jeevan Sathi etc.etc. whose noble purpose is to bring two, starved for love, souls together while making a shitload of money in the process. It is nothing but a platform for the desperate plea of parents who look upon unmarried girls as an unwanted commodity to be dumped on the best bidder. And the boys become ‘bakras’ posting their profiles with the forlorn hope of ensnaring a partner to fulfill their dream of a fairy tale romance.

The ground reality is that both boys and girls are playing their parents in a dangerous game of Seek, Meet and Retreat. And, here is the paradox- you get your parents on the bridal bandwagon and join in the ‘seek the dream partner fest’ with little regard that this is not a mango mela where you settle for the juiciest fruit. These are real people with real feelings which get hurt with every rebuff.

So, while the hapless parents wring their hands in despair and yet doggedly pursue every lead in the matrimonial mayhem, the girls and boys happily press the delete button sending the desperate parents on yet another wild goose chase, while insisting they want to get married.

When are we parents going to remove the jasmine tinted glasses and tune out the clamor for wedding bells? I know- when we parents take a firm stand and tell our ‘kids’ to go forth, seek and find your own! If not, go forth and multiply (in other words f##k off) and face the damn consequences.

We are tired people and just want to flop in our favourite chair and drink a cup of tea in peace. We do not want to be matchmakers or candle stick makers and yet we are forced by a relentless society which sniffs a bachelor/spinster past their ‘sell by date’. The dreaded query ‘Your daughter/son is still not married?’ launches us into yet another frenzied attempt to woo people we know precious little about except what we glean from their carefully doctored (and mainly padded up) profiles of themselves.

After having my fingers burned in this mug’s game of finding a ‘suitable’ bride for my son and getting rejected by girls on the flimsiest of pretexts (usually masking a desperate desire not to enter the state of matrimony) I have a word of advice to other long suffering parents. Love and respect your children’s choices. They are not goods to be auctioned off and you are not fulfilling their destiny by finding them a marriage partner.

And, to the next nosy relative/frenemy/ colleague/ neighbour who solicitously enquires about the marital status of your progeny, look them in the eye and tell them the wedding invite is in the mail- it is time to cash our cheques folks!

Nimmou Nilakantan

542 words

TO AMMA

A year has passed

You have not gone

I hear you in the music

That you listened to at dawn

You have not gone

Because now I clearly see

That love is in actions

Not in words spoken to me

How can you be gone?

When each and everyday I feel

Your warmth and love

In every tasty homemade meal

A year has passed, I do not mourn

That you are no longer on earth

Death can never take away

The life you gave me at birth

I do not cry, I have no cause for tears

Because I know I’ll always be

The daughter you loved, while you remain

My dearest Amma till eternity...

Your daughter,

Nimmou

23^rd December 2012

YOGAARGH!

I know why Yoga has endured as a way of life for so many centuries. It suits the contradictory nature of the human spirit and supports Newton’s 2^nd law- for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

In Yoga if you want to live to the fullest the most effective asana is the ‘Shavasana’ where you lie still and play dead. Apparently nothing rejuvenates you more than playing the corpse-zaps the life force and sends it zinging through those million inert cells.

Want to achieve peace of mind and soothe those shattered nerves? Easy peasy! No, don’t go to a quiet corner and close your eyes. Instead, take a deep breath and expel the air while producing a loud ‘Om’ sound loud enough to bounce off the walls and wake your comatose neighbor, 3 blocks away.

For years your body betrayed you. You didn’t walk upright, you shuffled along while every joint creaked and groaned and your doctor sternly ordered you to join a Yoga class. And you thought, why the hell not? Nothing could cripple you further than your arthritis or your finances.

And, you were being offered the straight and narrow path to salvation minus pills and potions. That is when the ‘aargh’ component of Yoga comes into effect. Every spinal twist, knee bend, hip contortion is the ‘Yogic’ way to get the body to straighten up. Hold impossible poses in different angles and directions and voila!, you are no longer early man shuffling along but limber modern man, as fit as a fiddle.

‘Yogaargh” also teaches you one of life’s most important lessons-you just cannot take anything for granted. We unenlightened lot thought that breathing was the one thing that came naturally (after the first unkind slap to get us started) and did not require our undivided attention. Well, the first shocker, as any good Yoga master will kindly point out, is that not only should we focus our complete attention to our breathing but that most of us are doing it all wrong.

So, to achieve that elusive Nirvana it is like being transported back to kindergarten and being told a countless times to breathe deeply, inhale and exhale. Apparently, if you want a flat belly you have to do exactly the reverse- inflate it like a balloon and then deflate it. And here most of us uninitiated ignoramuses have been wasting our time and energy trying to stand tall, tuck in our tummies and swing our arms gracefully as we walked. No wonder people turn to ‘Yogaargh’ in droves- it is life’s invaluable lesson condensed in one pithy saying-DON’T HOLD YOUR BREATH!

Nimmou Nilakantan

Aerobic Instructor

(Always Hyperventilating)

A NEW LEASE OF LIFE

 

The bane of old age is a life full of peaks and troughs.

The boon is you have all the time in the world to climb out of those troughs and you don’t have to don mountaineering gear to do it.

If you accept that every day of the rest of your life is going to be a challenge then, and only then, can you gear up for it.

In youth we are so busy conquering hurdles to get ahead.

In old age we do the same just to maintain status quo.

Accept and embrace the difference.

The attitude of youth has to give way to the acceptance of old age. You just need to cultivate a taste for it, like our palettes, which learn to accept healthy but non- spicy food.

And once you do, why then, every victory tastes sweeter than the last and you, and only you reap the rewards.

No more sharing with friends, family or colleagues- this is your sole conquest.

This is the golden age. Where, everything you do is ‘you-centric’ (rather than the ‘eccentric’) – embrace it with an open mind.

Nimmou Nilakantan

AN INSIGHTFUL BIRTHDAY

AN INSIGHTFUL BIRTHDAY

Birthdays are not just occasions that mark the day you were born- they are far more significant. This is the day you faced your first eviction after 9 months notice. And, the heartless landlord who chucked you out after much bawling and a whole lot of blood, sweat and tears was none other than your mother. No wonder all of us have such Jekyll and Hyde relationships with our moms. For nine months she provided you with the best water bed of your life. No slumber was as sweet as those nine months of floating in animated suspension. Food was piped in 24/7 through a tube. And then life’s first harsh lesson was taught to you by your mother-‘All good things come to an end’.

With her sigh of relief came your cry of pain and the first war of emotions began. Whenever she laughed, you cried and vice versa. You were out of sync in the emotional plane from the first hour of birth and it continues till death. And, though the cord is cut at birth it immediately begins a slow but powerful re-growth that no doctor, lawyer, husband or child can ever sever. They can dent it, twist it, tug at it but it just keeps growing and binds you to this one woman forever. Even if you try to reach and snip it just grows rubbery and snaps like an annoying elastic band, back in your face.

Pretty soon after birth you face eviction from another favorite hangout- Mamma’s milk bar.

But, she never stops feeding you. She feeds you comfort when you need it most, she feeds you advice when you least feel like it, she feeds you forgiveness when no one else will, she feeds you love when you have given her many moments of hatred- she is God’s ultimate cook and you feast your whole life remembering only occasionally to thank her. And, that is why the day she dies begins the slow starvation- that is when the cord of life that bound you to this supreme source of nourishment is ruthlessly severed. 

If you have lost a mother, the loneliest day of your life is your birthday. You realize that you are celebrating alone- your ally, your partner, your soul mate, your confidante, your friend, your critic and your favorite punching bag and comforter has gone forever. 

And for the rest of your life, this will be the day you celebrate without the only person who gave you the best gift- a thing we take for granted called ‘life...’

Nimmou Nilakantan

May 29^th 2012

(5 months after Amma died)

Personalised Poetry Service

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