Footprints...... etchings on my heart

Recently I visited Goa. Its not that I hadn’t been to a beach before, but this time I noticed something.

I was strolling along the beach one evening. We were 8 in all, but deep down I was unaccompanied. Moving towards the sea, I stopped just where the waves ended in a fatal attempt to reach the shore. With every wave I felt it trying coming to me, but somehow the effort was not hard enough. It came nearer and nearer and after some attempts, died altogether. Then again gathered courage and started its journey towards the unachievable. The moon/sun gravity pulls helping sometime while other time discouraging. I couldn’t bear the brunt anymore and so thought of moving, just to touch the dying wave. The calmness it offered me was enough an indication how content we felt in each other’s arms. We were happy cuddling each other, when something played spoilsport, either the gravity pull or the other waves. I beleive it was the other waves. The water started to recede and move away from me at an unimaginable speed. Before I could do something, it had left me. I had nothing but feet deep inside the sand. When I moved back, I could see the footprints. The more effort I had put to keep the wave stay longer, the deeper were the impressions. I knew only a new wave can fill the void, but I guess it was time for a low tide. The shore was left with impressions of my feet on the wet sand. What I had was only the moistness. I made up my mind, never again to put my feet in those lurking waves. I walked along the shore, maintaining enough distance. As I walked over the sand, footprints were left behind. The waves sometime were just able to touch them after I had moved ahead.

There is no fear of loosing now. The sand is all marked with my footprints, some touching the waves while others far away. I no longer dread the embedded marks with moistness. I no longer want that togetherness. I no longer try moving close to the waves.

Nostalgic Summers......

It’s been more than a year in Bangalore. As much as I can remember, last year the summers were not this hot. Even people who have been living here for a long time say it’s the worst summer.
Well most of you will agree that summers in general are worse only. There is no other word to describe it. But these summers have brought a bit of nostalgia with it, especially after I started writing this blog so frequently.
How can someone say that summers are bad, when we get to have Mangoes in this season only. The king of fruits spreads its taste only in this “worst” season. I don’t know about others but I still remember, the electricity used to ditch late in the evening and we used to take our cots to the rooftop, while the little ones used to carry the mattresses and pillows. Lying there under the sky we never regretted summers and sweat. The breeze used to be moderate and the sky clear with all the glittering stars. I haven’t seen that clear sky in my last 4 years where I have stayed in Delhi, Surat and Bangalore. We all remembered so many of the constellations and the way to find them using the pole star. I can’t forget my Dad’s Nanaji, who was able to predict time with 5 min error just by looking at the stars. This amazes us till date.
How can we forget to mention the ice creams and baraf gola. I still hold the record of having around 15 – 20 ice creams in a day among all my siblings.
Having grown up in a village I had the rare advantage of taking bath in the tube well. Every afternoon we used to pluck tomatoes from the farm and burry them in the sand in flowing water. They used to get chilled in no time and then we used to enjoy them. Not to mention the melon and watermelons. I don’t think any other season can furnish us with the water filled fruit and you really can’t relish as much as you can do in summers.

Talking about college life and we can never forget the hostel life of summers. I started to stay in hostel during winters but as the summers approached, it became all the more unbearable. We were on the 2nd floor and the rooms used to get sunlight from all ends. By the time we went back from college, it transformed into an oven. So we preferred staying in the corridor and playing cricket all the time. We used to sprinkle water, sorry not sprinkle but nearly flood our rooms to get some respite while sleeping.

Then came the monsoon, ruining the flavour of mangoes and making watermelons inedible. Though the rain brought some respite from the heat but for fruit lovers the party gets over. Monsoon has its own fun but I still miss the college summers.

Weddings

The last 2 months made me witness 3 marriages of close friends. I couldn’t help but notice some real big differences, which I thought to pen down.
Out of the 3 two were of South Indian friends and one of a North Indian. 1 was a Christian another a Brahmin and one a Punjabi. Well I m not trying to divide everything on lines of religion and area but the differences were evident and spoke a lot about the two.
Jan started off with a South Indian Christian of a dear friend and an ex – colleague. It was nothing like the Christian wedding, which we had pictured complete with wine, ball dance etc. The ceremony was simple, religious and with mass involvement. It took place in a chapel. The ceremony took around 3 hrs and every one was quite attentive to the sermons and hymns or whatever they are called by the Father and his group. People were actively participating in prayers with full enthusiasm. Though the whole ceremony took place in Malayalam, which for us was alien, but we could feel the presence of faith and serenity in the atmosphere. This followed by a community lunch, which to me was quite different than all I had witnessed in 26 years of my life. There was a big hall with table and chairs arranged and food already placed on the tables. Everyone was to sit and eat from the contents on his/her table. There were all sorts of delicacies ranging from chicken, mutton, beef, vegetables, something for everyone. Another thing that was odd was that after the marriage, the groom was supposed to leave for the brides place and not the other way round, as I had known till date.

February end we headed to Moradabad for another marriage. This time it seemed like home. So even the expectations grew. We hoped to have some drinks a tiring dance on the floor and a big Non Vegetarian meal. This is what most marriages in North comprise of, though the Non veg and the booze thing depends on individual family choices but dance is surely there with the upbeat Punjabi music. This wedding also started with dance in front of the horse the groom was riding. It followed with drinks from a cars boot. This is usually done when the booze is a no – no in marriage. Well drinks brought out the tireless dancer in us and we rocked the dance floor till past midnight. Had our dinner and were back to where we had to go.
March starting I had an invitation to attend another south Indian marriage in Bangalore. I was feeling quite lonely, as there were no friends to accompany me. I reached the reception hall and was welcomed with a rose from a very sweet little girl. The environment was filled with sound of shehnai. I met my friend, congratulated him and then sat among the guests to enjoy the proceedings. The dinner was in the same style. Tables laid down for small groups.

The differences in noticed in all the three weddings were:

1. The groom for some reason sits on the right of the bride in North Indian weddings and the reverse happens in South Indian weddings. I don’t know the funda behind the seating position but there is an evident difference.
2. The pomp and show in North Indian weddings is mush more than in South Indian. People in North feel that marriage is the only time to look best. The dresses are carefully chosen for the occasion and mark a strong show off. In Southern India, only the bride and groom are well dressed. Others don’t really believe in getting dressed for the occasion.
3. The ceremonies in Southern India are quite and religious. While in Northern India they are marked with loud music and a lot of people fanatically dancing. The religious rituals are carried out in seclusion or with only the near and dears present.

Summing up with one thing that is common is the grooms ever smiling face for the photographers. Each time a friend or relative comes to visit, all get together to have a pic with the couple. Both the bride and groom are constantly smiling throughout this display that lasts for more than a thousand photographs and some 3 hrs of video recording.