The clock in the hall stuck two times. But the time wasn’t 2’O clock; I woke up to hear only the last two, the stokes preceded were toned down by my sleep. I looked for the time, 3’O clock. I don’t like this, to be woken up at midway in my sleep, that too after a heavy lunch. But then whom to blame for, Clock??? No. That would be as good as blaming me; I was the one who bought that clock. It’s a nuisance, but I love the cuckoo and the design.
It was mid July and I was in my home town, Thrissur, the cultural capital of Kerala, taking few days off from the busy “professional life” of a Bangalore software engineer. It was two hours since my lunch, but the stomach is still full. “Crap! It is almost time for my snacks and the stomach is still full. Lazy stomach, not matching my appetite!!!” Whenever in a problem, I feel comfortable after putting the blame on someone or something, even if it is my own stomach. I could have blamed my appetite, but I then don’t want to. After all who wants to be on a diet while on a vacation at home?
And there is one more reason for not blaming my appetite. In my 3 years of Bangalore life when everything else (salary, health, peace of mind, knowledge, aptitude) failed to reach my expectation (few of them even diminished), the only thing that surprised me and went above my expectation. That is my appetite for food at home. A journey through my life will show you how big change it is.
I still remember, in my school days, how I used to love food from restaurants, and how I used to hate boiled rice and curry at home. Then my love was for food like fried rice, noodles, parota and bread toast. During that time, for lunch, mom usually gave me rice and curry, and rarely chapatti, or bread and jam. Getting the lunch box I used to weight it, a heavy one means rice and light one meant that I will be happy. But two weeks before in Bangalore, while having fried rice from a restaurant for dinner I wasn’t a happy person I should have a few years back in the same situation. I was missing badly the food I hated in my childhood.
That is how things can change with time and as my mind continued its journey through the sensations my taste buds had through its life, the clock struck again. This time four times. I heard all the four strokes; my sleep wasn’t sound enough to mute the sound of the clock. I got up from my bed, washed my face and went out to take some fresh air.
As the saying goes “looks are deceiving”. If it is true with humans, then we have inherited it from our mother nature. Nature told me nothing less to 6 ‘O clock, but a few minutes before science told 4. A dim lighting prevailed. There was a cold breeze, announcing the arrival. I looked up the sky; all over covered with dark clouds; expect for a bright spot, our beloved sun. Behind the dark clouds it looked more like the moon. This was the second deceiving look of the day, the sun using clouds as mask to disguise as the moon.
Suddenly there was a rustling sound, somewhere from the west. The sound closed by and the breeze got stronger and colder. Then, one drop, few drops, and then, it was pouring. I got back into home in a flash. Standing by the veranda, I watched the nature taking bath. It was doing a cleaning action on plants and tress, removing the dirt and old leaves. The cold breeze, now a colder wind, was sprinkling rain over my face. I tilted up my face a bit and got more rain drops over my face. It was as if the droplets washing my face, and the wind brushing my hair.
In front of me, with my eyes half shut and closing rapidly to block the drops from entering eyes, I saw a beauty that I had seen in a forward mail a month before when I was in Bangalore, sitting inside a maze like structure called “cubicle”, detached from the outside world, and not knowing whether it is rain or shine outside. The mail had the subject “Fw: When it rains in Kerala”, with photographs showing typical Kerala ~ paddy fields, ponds, traditional houses(“Naale kettu”), and surroundings ~ in rain. Seeing these I felt like catching the next train to home. But I had some lively deadlines to meet.
Watching this beauty my mind wandered in time, and reached my infancy. I don’t remember the feeling I had for rain then. But I should have enjoyed watching it, and would have wanted to play in it. Obviously mom wouldn’t have allowed me to do so.
Stepping into school rain had a different image in my life. The rain usually visits Kerala on the first week of June. And that is the time when the school reopens after the summer holidays. Many times the very day of reopening, saw the onset of south west monsoon in Kerala. To travel to school in rain, and to sit in class wet were reasons enough to hate rain in the morning. In the evening, while getting back to home, it was OK to have rain. But the most unacceptable time to have rain was during lunch break and physical education period. This is why I hated the rain so much during that time for keeping us away from games. Seeing the clouds or rain we used to pray for a clear sky, “Rain rain go away come again another day.” But rain Gods seldom heard.
In my college days, rain was a great relief from the heat and humidity of Cochin. But during the days of exams, rain was like giving sedative to a fainting person. I don't know how or why, but was during the exam days that I had my best sleeps, deep sound sleep. And at that time, when trying hard to keep my senses awake and focused on learning, rain was not a pleasing guest. And in my four years on engineering, there were only a few such displeasing visits by rain.
Suddenly someone called me from behind. It was mom with a cup of tea. No better time to have a tea. I took cup and started having tea. Tea and rain, that was great. Right now also I am having tea and it is raining outside. But there are a few differences. Then in Thrissur at home, now in Bangalore in office. There the rain was meeting trees, here it is concrete. There I was feeling rain. Here I am only seeing rain; there is a glass and concrete structure, covering the building, and isolating me from the outside world. There, after rain it is a beautiful nature, but here, after rain it is an overflowing drainage system and a heavy traffic. The blog ends here, but the thoughts doesn’t.
It was mid July and I was in my home town, Thrissur, the cultural capital of Kerala, taking few days off from the busy “professional life” of a Bangalore software engineer. It was two hours since my lunch, but the stomach is still full. “Crap! It is almost time for my snacks and the stomach is still full. Lazy stomach, not matching my appetite!!!” Whenever in a problem, I feel comfortable after putting the blame on someone or something, even if it is my own stomach. I could have blamed my appetite, but I then don’t want to. After all who wants to be on a diet while on a vacation at home?
And there is one more reason for not blaming my appetite. In my 3 years of Bangalore life when everything else (salary, health, peace of mind, knowledge, aptitude) failed to reach my expectation (few of them even diminished), the only thing that surprised me and went above my expectation. That is my appetite for food at home. A journey through my life will show you how big change it is.
I still remember, in my school days, how I used to love food from restaurants, and how I used to hate boiled rice and curry at home. Then my love was for food like fried rice, noodles, parota and bread toast. During that time, for lunch, mom usually gave me rice and curry, and rarely chapatti, or bread and jam. Getting the lunch box I used to weight it, a heavy one means rice and light one meant that I will be happy. But two weeks before in Bangalore, while having fried rice from a restaurant for dinner I wasn’t a happy person I should have a few years back in the same situation. I was missing badly the food I hated in my childhood.
That is how things can change with time and as my mind continued its journey through the sensations my taste buds had through its life, the clock struck again. This time four times. I heard all the four strokes; my sleep wasn’t sound enough to mute the sound of the clock. I got up from my bed, washed my face and went out to take some fresh air.
As the saying goes “looks are deceiving”. If it is true with humans, then we have inherited it from our mother nature. Nature told me nothing less to 6 ‘O clock, but a few minutes before science told 4. A dim lighting prevailed. There was a cold breeze, announcing the arrival. I looked up the sky; all over covered with dark clouds; expect for a bright spot, our beloved sun. Behind the dark clouds it looked more like the moon. This was the second deceiving look of the day, the sun using clouds as mask to disguise as the moon.
Suddenly there was a rustling sound, somewhere from the west. The sound closed by and the breeze got stronger and colder. Then, one drop, few drops, and then, it was pouring. I got back into home in a flash. Standing by the veranda, I watched the nature taking bath. It was doing a cleaning action on plants and tress, removing the dirt and old leaves. The cold breeze, now a colder wind, was sprinkling rain over my face. I tilted up my face a bit and got more rain drops over my face. It was as if the droplets washing my face, and the wind brushing my hair.
In front of me, with my eyes half shut and closing rapidly to block the drops from entering eyes, I saw a beauty that I had seen in a forward mail a month before when I was in Bangalore, sitting inside a maze like structure called “cubicle”, detached from the outside world, and not knowing whether it is rain or shine outside. The mail had the subject “Fw: When it rains in Kerala”, with photographs showing typical Kerala ~ paddy fields, ponds, traditional houses(“Naale kettu”), and surroundings ~ in rain. Seeing these I felt like catching the next train to home. But I had some lively deadlines to meet.
Watching this beauty my mind wandered in time, and reached my infancy. I don’t remember the feeling I had for rain then. But I should have enjoyed watching it, and would have wanted to play in it. Obviously mom wouldn’t have allowed me to do so.
Stepping into school rain had a different image in my life. The rain usually visits Kerala on the first week of June. And that is the time when the school reopens after the summer holidays. Many times the very day of reopening, saw the onset of south west monsoon in Kerala. To travel to school in rain, and to sit in class wet were reasons enough to hate rain in the morning. In the evening, while getting back to home, it was OK to have rain. But the most unacceptable time to have rain was during lunch break and physical education period. This is why I hated the rain so much during that time for keeping us away from games. Seeing the clouds or rain we used to pray for a clear sky, “Rain rain go away come again another day.” But rain Gods seldom heard.
In my college days, rain was a great relief from the heat and humidity of Cochin. But during the days of exams, rain was like giving sedative to a fainting person. I don't know how or why, but was during the exam days that I had my best sleeps, deep sound sleep. And at that time, when trying hard to keep my senses awake and focused on learning, rain was not a pleasing guest. And in my four years on engineering, there were only a few such displeasing visits by rain.
Suddenly someone called me from behind. It was mom with a cup of tea. No better time to have a tea. I took cup and started having tea. Tea and rain, that was great. Right now also I am having tea and it is raining outside. But there are a few differences. Then in Thrissur at home, now in Bangalore in office. There the rain was meeting trees, here it is concrete. There I was feeling rain. Here I am only seeing rain; there is a glass and concrete structure, covering the building, and isolating me from the outside world. There, after rain it is a beautiful nature, but here, after rain it is an overflowing drainage system and a heavy traffic. The blog ends here, but the thoughts doesn’t.
