Thursday, August 11, 2022

Modakam : JEE special edition

 I am part of a laterite house “ Modakam”in a coastal village in Goa.  When I was cut out of my quarry in Ratnagiri I was promised a young family with lots of love and laughter. And so the narrative begins

Characters of the play

  • Lady of the house - impulsive, helicopter mom
  • Man of the house- compulsive solution provider, the solid anchor 
  • Child- Zen Admiral by birth , toyed with stick-string-stone and read books to breathe 
  • Boomer - An adorable tux wearing cocker spaniel , Oxford’s PhD in cuteness who begged for a living   
  • Smokey- An adopted pariah, who traded his brains for his grand tail. His brains being unused fetched a higher value, so God threw in a musk gland to make the deal smell sweet.
  • Other characters will be introduced as the story progresses 

All grew up - adults as parents, child into an adult , Boomer begged better and Smokey stole stealthier. Days, seasons were filled with joyous dramas 

Timeline

  •  2020- Boards - A word often uttered, decibels doubled . He always read books , in the bath and bed . Now he  read off a small hand held flattened brick ( from now on it will be referred to as f&ck, acronym of first and last 2 alphabets of the 2words, I am a stone ; I don’t swear). Glasses were fitted on the boy’s face. 
  • Virus-Someone I could not see but always spoken of with fear. Virus visited and the boy stopped going to school but the adults just went on about their business. He used different forms of f&ck ,more and more , every waking minute that my laterite pores sweated. 
  • Mock tests- The results of these only caused melodrama followed by grief in ALL. The first reaction was to blame the things one can’t change- Indian education system, entrance exams ,coaching institutes ineptitude, bad teachers, tough syllabus, futility of all things academic . What even a stone could see the six senses of the humans failed to pick up. 
  • September 2021-A father’s instinct finally spotted the ripples . Sleeping during classes, dropping grades . The f&ck causing the ripples was finally found . The process of anger, denial and acceptance still reverberates in my pores. The gore was too much even for a stone. The Zen Admiral was tried and executed at the altar of madness. 

The Drama unfolds

The lady wore her Mom “psychotic cape” , “blinding anger” goggles, “whimper to all about son “mouthpiece” and re hitched the boy with an umbilical cord, cut 17 years ago.

The F&ck was to be used only under supervision. American Uncle Sam (Sanket in this case)set up parental controls . The lady positioned a chair next to the boy’s and attended all classes on the F&ck. She was his bench mate now. Inseparable in time, place & person; mom son duo were a hot mess  

Priest to psychiatrist, grandparents to grand aunts, all were consulted to rid off the evil F&ck

Boomer was bribed egregiously for his speed dial connections with God. Smokey too got his share for his underworld connections 

Help came from all quarters. 

Twice removed cousin shined the beacon of JEE hope. She was first responder for JEE SOS which included- JEE ref books, difficult chapters, difficulty in chapters, bad shit topics, do not attempt topics …. 

A senior colleague gave a new perspective to the problem. If an adult can't stay off these dopamine rewarding f*ck devices, how the hell do hormone mangled teens fight off this temptation. This help rid the guilt and self flagellation that the lady would lapse into at the drop of a hat. 

Every morning all huddled into a car and came back at sundown. At night they slept in a tight huddle and fought for headspace, bed space , blankets . All rooms were stacked with books. The kitchen rarely lighted up but they devoured books on the dining table. The cars complained that happy conversations were replaced by calculus, organic chemistry, rotation and collisions. The kilometers to hospital and back were filled with online classes and chemistry theory. Even the cars were exhausted. Every waking moment the boy was buried in his books. They kept saying “catching up”.

I am engineered by an IITian to be earthquake resistant upto 4 Richters , but resistance to JEE turmoil was not factored in.

Most days were gloomy. I waited for a new year and some new hope 

2022-Things began to turn around .Guitar breaks filled Modakam with music. Laughter haltingly seeped in. My pores heaved a huge sigh of relief . 

The lady signed up for the Zen order. Enlisted as a Zen cadet, she crawled her way up to Zen lieutenant. The ranks were earned by keeping calm in the storm of bad mock tests results,  not rushing the Zen Admiral’s food and bath deliberations, calculation errors costing negative marks. From “bare and bite “ she progressed to “Breathe and bear” mantra. 

.

Some light moments…

Boomer- His ability to dig his snout in the worst stink earned him the organic chemistry Professor position 

Smokey - never missed a catch. His mechanics and kinematic knowledge conferred the title of Physics Professor. 

Rabbits- The only animals who are good at maths in the Modakam Menagerie because they could   'multiply '. 

The boy offered his obeisance to the animal professors before mocks and exams for success  in the respective subjects

The boy scored a whooping 100 percentile in one exam and they attributed it to Smokey. The madness ran deep

Business models developed during dull days

1. Boomer dating services-Girls are few in engg colleges

Girls like dogs

Girls will bring treats for the dog. All biscuits above the Parle G genre will be equally shared between B & A

Boys walking dogs will instantly win girls attention and will lead to a conversation and maybe end in a date. The compensation will be paid by doing chores for Adi

Boomer with his bags packed, tux worn, sprayed his best stink and was ready to go to the hostel from the day the business model was discussed with him

2. Rahu & Ketu dosha relief services 

Feeding a black dog relives one of R& K doshas. We will liaison with the shelter houses and feed black dogs for a small convenience fee

3. Shani alias Sade sati relief services 

On the same lines as described above.

Feed black cows on Saturdays

 The only difference being all the plastic eating stray highway black cows now will now get good food 

4 Cute coins

A crypto currency similar to Bitcoins. The details have to be worked out as they still did not know how the system works.

Some poetic moments 

Late into a night , deep in the JEE merde the boy lilted, 

The paper is like my mind;

Empty and cluttered at the same time 

Some enlightening moments

If  help is asked; then you get what you ask for 

If help is perceived and then provided, then that help crushes the helped

 The concerned parents trying to help teenager and not knowing where to stop , churned these pearls of wisdom 

JEE joke

A Maths teacher who talks too much - hyperbola . Only JEE aspirants and their moms would find this funny 

Red carpet rolled out for Bleu Cordon- 

The hundred folds of a toque represent 100 ways to cook an egg -The only respite from books for the boy was his culinary skills with eggs. The fowl friends not tolerating this foul play with the poor kid, kept up the steady supply of eggs and the boy was on his way to the blue ribbon 

Most days were good but some days….

The F&ck raised it’s ugly head with every new update . Guilt and fury curry served no one good 

They studied for the wrong Board exam and. almost missed answering one. Frantic phone calls to unsuspecting friends to confirm exams timetable was really stupid even for a stone to watch

They overlooked mock tests dates and 1 day the boy answered 4 exams stretching straight to 12 hours in a 24 hour period-10:30an-1:30pm;2:30-5:30pm; 8-11pm ;11:30pm -2:30am. It felt like the Battlenight of Pavan Khind. The boy like Sardar Baji Prabhu Deshpande, fought the long lonely fight with the questions with his pentonic pen late into the night (Disclosure-no paid collaboration here). But he stood his ground and held fort and lived to tell the tale.

The man watched all “JEE” click bits . Study  Plans were drawn, redrawn , revised , readdressed . Bad English speaking super teachers dramatic vocalisations of “ Dear shstudents”  resounded in the Modakam- special JEE edition walls. 

The lady always searched for “ how to get better at calculus/conics/complex numbers and so on….” Quora feeds ran crazy

Neighbours , friends, villagers , fellow colleagues brought in pooja prasad and blessings for the boy and the family’s success in exams 

Time, patience, practice, prayers did bring in the results. 

I am a stone and have no feelings . The above narrative is a complete unmodified account as witnessed by a weathered wised up stone.

Yours truly,

Laterite row 19 ,NE wall

Modakam


Sunday, June 19, 2022

Happy Father’s Day-Today n Everyday


 Amol was a week shy of 27 years when he became a Dad.Between a post Partum depression riddled wife and warring cross cultural grandparents Amol had to hold fort. And boy ! He trumped it by doing what he does best ie Nothing at all. His principle in life- this too shall pass. 

A 100 days later the still crazy wife wanted to join work , partly to keep the term of postgraduation and largely because she realised that oxytocin driven happiness of motherhood  is so overrated 

The result-

Our man, new Daddy had to ferry expressed breast milk across a river , hills and valleys (GMC -Mapusa)twice a day . I have stretch marks and a cesarean scar to show and collect parenting brownie points. Amol never complained or got compensated for this task. He made everything look so easy. I never once asked him how bad his combo parenting - postgraduation deal was, all the while unrelentingly complaining about mine. 

A year later we had to move cities to get further qualified with a toddler and a know nothing about homemaking us. Teething troubles ranged from apnoeic spells turning Adi cyanosed to green diarrhoea that lasted forever and a temperamental help, Amol kept us anchored - His bulk helping 

Besides the 2.5 year old, he had the 25 year old to nurture. My career dreams ignited , fanned and finally fired landed us in Trivandrum. My DM voyage in the ISRO city was like a missile.. too much heat, hype and hmmph but so worth it ( at least for me) I took off and Amol bore the brunt   He sang cartoon songs to get food into the preschooler , toilet trained him ,packed my tiffin in the mornings and thousands of things which I didn’t notice and now not remember . Along the way he became a nephrologist too.

Adi n Amol returned to Goa 18 months before I could. Amol now had a dual dad  role to play. A real dad and a dad who reports to the hypercritical hyperventilating mom . Probably the toughest . Amol hardly got any credit for this tough job 

I joined them and we lived and grew together as parents and partners like most . On most days I pull feminism card, mom card, “abla nari “ card to get things going at home. Amol has zilch in his arsenal. Just the good old solid Dad. He believes most things will sort out if we kept wet towels off the bed and put the shoes away. Such is the Daddy faith ha!

I even added pets ranging from bunnies, ducks (destroys all vegetation lovingly cultivated) turtle ( that eats all the fishes) fish ( that are added in vain hope) gate jumping dogs - (a motorised gate made useless) murderous rooster -(attacks all creatures moving)to our menagerie . I am the animal lover but our eccentric furry , feathered n finned creatures exasperate me but Amol plays a loving Dad to all creatures. Walk through the gates of Modakam and there is a Dad who will love you to the end of the earth 

Dads have traditionally evolved from grunts and shoulder nudges . And they don’t have hormones to stir up the parenting emotions And  yet in current times with changing social dynamics of career and home gender equality with no past examples Amol has done so well .

This Father’s Day , Amol, I want to sit up and take notice, complain less and appreciate more what a wonderful job you are doing 



Thursday, February 10, 2022

My Malum Malus

 Malum malus transliterates to "forbidden fruit". Biblically the apple, in Modakam it is the Mango.

My love for mangoes runs in my genes, even my red blood cells in the mango season must be transforming from the red biconcave shaped discs to a beautiful mango hued and shaped discs

When we bought land to build our home, I envisioned more of a mango orchard than a brick n mortar thingy. But reality of high land prices and hence smaller land parcel, with the myth busted about gardening is relaxing, I secured place for 2 mango trees. On one of our road trips across the border when mango fruit laden trees arched over the highways, I wanted to make a small detour to buy a mango graft from Regional fruit research station 'https://dbskkv.org/Research/Research_Stations_&_Organogram.html'

The detour became a wild goose chase quickly , me intoxicated with the mango viusals failed to see my incensed husband. After going round in circles ( real men don't ask for directions) and Google maps giving up, we finally stopped a couple to ask for directions. They had no clue about this Trip advisor recommended 5 star rating research station. Amol had reached his tipping point and referred to me as a "bin dok" to the couple, who BTW later took the turn right across the creeper camouflaged  gate of the research station. Maybe he took the liberty because I don't know Marathi, or he was really tired after a day long drive , I was a woman scorned and hell no, I did not spare any fury on that journey. We did end up at the gates of the research station 3 minutes later and 5 minutes before it closed and bought 2 "mancurad" mango grafts .

Eager to make up, Amol signed up for ,"OK I will do anything to just end this misery". My mother in law always promoted Amol as the son with the green fingers. I thought it was time to get this fact checked. So 2 days after the "bin dok" incident, we were in our garden with the pick axe and shovel to plant our precarious procurement . Now when my in laws do things as a team they are a picture of love , respect for each other, harmony etc...one can even hear violins play in the background. My father in law will adjust, readjust, do, undo, and again adjust and readjust without a gruff at my mother in laws behest. Either I have not yet picked up the art of asking husband , or the "do not grudge the wife" gene did not get passed down from my father in law, I can't put my finger on our problem. From the moment the axe hit the ground, Amol must have not raked up as much earth as much he must have cursed me. I soldiered on bravely as I believe in we can settle scores later as long as task at hand is completed successfully.

I left the other sapling for another day of disagreement. My in laws eager to rescue their son, planted it without breaking a sweat and yes, with the fiddles playing in the background.

3 years later

cursed sapling- It grew haltingly, grudgingly, survived mouldy attacks                                                      rescued sapling - Grew rapidly green, Got uprooted one stormy night and could not be further rescued

5 years later

The research station and my internet research promised fruits of my labour in 5 years time. I had my eyes set on our tree, every year (what if mine was a plant prodigy and an early bloomer) from the first day I heard the cuckoo sing, signaling the mango flowering season to the onset of monsoon, end of fruiting season. Nothing happened.

 Old aunts asked us to threaten the plant . Apparently the plant will get scared and give fruits. But our plant was born into abuse.  Verbal and physical abuse(Adi made deep gashes on it's trunk to force it to fruit)  had no effect on it. Waving a burning torch only left 'burnol' degree burns on my palm but the tree stood its ground.

I tried to set it up against competition...our neighbour's plant, 2 years younger than you has flowered. What are you waiting for?

I tried emotional blackmailing...we will all get diabetic and cannot eat your fruits. What is even the point of your bounty then?

I tried the sibling love trick...Adi Bhaiya will go to college ...whom will you share your fruits with?

I am an Indian mother of a teenager. I stop at nothing 

saam daam dhand bhed.....

every trick tried

and lo behold 

early in the morning while chopping feed for my menagerie , I caught sight of  mango flowers filtering in the sunrays. An imaginary cuckoo sang gaily in the background for effect. The moment was ethereal. I ran inside the house to share this new discovery akin to Archimedes ( he ran naked, I ran in clothes covered in chicken shit).

I bang down the bathroom door with  excitement.

The "bin dok" moment returns

Amol answers with a thud. He slipped while getting the door. He barks a few expletives at me. My face falls. I called my mango tree the evil spawn

My mango tree is really cursed

From birth  to ground, from ground to flowering. Wonder what the fruits would bring ...Malum Mangus definitely. will follow it up with another m-log


2 decades into marriage gives us ample opportunities to rant, but I have always been proud of the variety of subjects we agree to disagree upon. Yin and Yang. Of curses and kisses.

malum mangus has set the 2022 prevalentine prelude ........hopefully hint enough 

Bin Dokly Yours

Mango Maniac "Manaivi"