PERFORMANCE

SCENE 1 :

March 7, 2006

Ladies Hostel, Adi Shankara Institute of Engineering and Technology, Kalady

time : 8.00 pm

The practice sessions of girls group dance for the freshers day has started in Surya's room.

We were the only dance team from Electrical batch . 'The team' consisted of Surya, Bhavya, Sreedevi, Hima, Aswathy and 'myself' . Our star dancer Deepa , tactfully evaded participation, as though she anticipated some danger :) ( she actually wanted 2 go unnoticed dat day, due 2 heavy threats from chetans !) anyway...she was quite lucky !

The songs were decided and compiled to make a fusion song much earlier. The 'choreography' was done aptly the day before, and simple practice sessions were conducted along with it, during the zero hours, in the changing room cum sick room adjoining the ladies toilet. I happily went home and displayed my dancing skills to my mom...( appozhe ammayude mukhatulla pandikedu njan manasilaakendathayirunnu...!)

It was the first dance venture in my life. I was sent to learn dance when I was 5 years old, but did not continue beyond 2 or 3 classes. My teacher bet me with a scale for doing it wrong and my pride was hurt. ( those days u c , I had a misunderstanding dat I’m the perfect student in the world, always first in class and every teacher’s pet! ). Back home, I blamed the teacher for treating students badly and never went back to the dance class in spite of repeated ‘requests’ from my parents and friends. I never knew then, that I would suffer one day for those deeds.

On the day before the D-day, we took permission to stay in the ladies hostel and went out for shopping that evening. Athu oru shopping thanne aayirunnu...! All miscellaneous things were bought except the dandiya sticks [:(] . Now, where to get it from...we enquired about it , in all costume shops in the vicinity . Didn’t get it. Finally, it was Surya's idea to approach the PVC pipe walla.. He wore a confused look as the set of girls barged into the shop enquiring about thin PVC pipes…he selected the thinnest of the lot after much effort and finally asked us… ‘alla endina ithu , conduit wiring cheyyana..?’ . Before I started off with ‘alla…dance…’ my mouth was abruptly shut and somebody answered …‘athe…wiring cheyyana..’. J It was cut in lengths we specified and we happily returned to the hostel.

As Surya’s roomies began the decoration work of our PVC pipes, we began the practice. It was hard time for all of us, specially me. (I simply cannot forget how the principal looked pathetically at me, as though I was a destitute from Somalia, when I approached him with the permission letter for practice). Everytime we were tired and drenched in sweat, we would sit down and talk for a while, munching almost anything that came our way. It was fun, but, by the end of the day we were thoroughly exhausted and I painfully realized that I had lost considerable amount of skin beneath my feet, making it difficult to walk.

We slept in peace dreaming of a splendid performance the next day, in spite of warnings from senior girls about the incessant whistling and howling ( kooval) for the freshers day. Little did I know then that I would loose sleep for the next whole week.

SCENE 2 :

March 8 , 2006

College Auditorium

Time : 10 am

Let me tell you guys that 8 is a terribly unlucky number for me. I never wanted to be superstitious and so I filled myself with optimism thinking that I would rewrite this ‘luck and badluck’ notion of mine with the day’s performance[J].

The programs had begun. Some programs had to face terrible whistling and some went on quite peacefully. Ours was the last program and we had satisfactorily completed the rehearsal in our classroom. We were now seated among the girls and were gleefully watching the tamasha going on.

After a while, the program co-ordinator called us on and enquired about CD… Oops, we had only a cassette with us in which we had very smartly got the ‘cassette guy’ to record our fusion song. First stroke of badluck. Time was limited. Our turn would come in about half an hour. The poor chap ran around for a tape recorder, as we sat in the back stage all tensed up. Finally, when he turned up with one, completely sweating, somebody from the union came and told us that interesting piece of news.

The program was delayed beyond the limit specified and so they wanted to cancel our program! We looked at each other. All were looking relieved, unfortunately except me …!!!

Destiny …wat else! (maybe the 8 magic was working on me ! ) …Or wat would prompt me to motivate my friends and request the union ppl for 5 minutes for our performance?

They had already announced the end of the program, and almost everyone were outside. So, we had almost ended it all up in our minds, and then the announcement came like thunder…’EVERYBODY PLEASE STAY BACK FOR THE LAST PERFORMANCE….GROUP DANCE…BY …REMYA AND PARTY!!!’ ( entamme….ultimate…!! I cursed that unknown person who put my name as the team leader….!! )

No sooner than the announcement was made, the whole college forced into the auditorium as though to celebrate the murder of their laast prey. We were alarmed.

The stage was set.

We took ‘positions’ .

And…the curtain was raised !!!

In my whole life, I am pretty sure I will never face such a situation. We were drowned in the intense howling of our seniors and did not have the good fortune of hearing any bit of the music. Literally the whole college was present there, and believe me, the crowd was much more than what was there for the programs that were staged before. As though some sudden osmosis occurred, all those who were gleefully spending time outside the auditorium, where attracted to it coz it was the last program, and their last chance for the year to howl at the first years.

We suddenly turned into a group of rhinos. Did our bit of dancing according to our intuition. It was then that I realized that all of us forgot the steps (no music ! ) and were doing something which was definitely nt dance. The worst was yet to happen. Heart of hearts, I was worried about the timing of the dandiya. I was so conscious about it that I assumed it began and sprang upon our decorated PVC pipes ( destined to bcum dandiya sticks! ) . I turned to the stage with all smiles and it immediately faded !! my team mates were busy forming a circle and turning this way and that way…!! that moment …omg!! I went upto them shouting (holding the sticks)…”hey dandiya”…somebody shouted back, “ vannu kalikkedo….” . paavam njan…I threw them to one corner and joined the team !!

The auditorium frenzily roared out in excitement. They had all reason to celebrate..!! I wished somebody would put the curtain but it didn’t happen! They were celebrating it !!

And finally it was time for dandiya…and as u can guess, I went in search for the sticks I threw, wen the rest presumed with the dance !! To top it all, one of my team mates accidently pulled down all the lighting done on the stage as she turned round…!!. I could see my ‘ paara’ senior (the one in my bus-stop) howling his life out at a distance. I wondered if he would drop dead on the spot , howling ! The auditorium was a sea earlier, now it turned into a storm !!

At last, it was over…and we didn’t know how to get out of the damn place.

Deepa looked pitifully at me and said ‘ it was quite ok dear’. ‘ ya I know…’, I replied.

The ‘event’ was followed by a mock dance by seniors , imitating ours in which my part was played wonderfully well by Hari sir, which I came to know later.

Yeah…I was the star of the day.[:(] For all wrong reasons. Phew!!

I was caught in the bus. The senior guy warned me…” nee ini melal dance kalichu ennu njan arinjaal…………”

Brief pause………..dhayaneeyamayi njan ellarem noki..

“ vivaramariyum….manasilaayo…”. the whole gang burst into laughter…” ennalum aliya athoru dance thane aarnutto…6 perkum 6 step !! ” someone was laughing his heart out.

My dedicated classmates are allegedly known to have denied dey know us, on enquiry by seniors and some of them rang up at home and howled at me. I had enough. And I learnt a great lesson in life.

Ariyaatha panikku pokaruthu…J

But it did make a memory which taste gud like wine as years rolled out….:)

WOMAN

There are somethings i never understood about women

1. how do women gain weight?
2. how do women get to have long straight hair that obeys gravity ?? ( phew!! )

You can give it any reason u want; hereditary, or a thyroid complaint...whatever..my hair never grew beyond a certain point and i never gained weight, the logic of which is still mysterious to me.:)

No matter how many tins of milma ghee my mom emptied into all the chappatis and dosas made for me..my body weight is at standstill magic figure of 53 kg. Hiking it by even a half kg is a distant dream for me as of now.:) In these times of 'degenerating decencies' when everyone is after VLCC to reduce weight, I am an exception.

My hair has every quality u can think of(!!!); its frizzy, its short, its damaged with umpteen split ends, and its thin; getting thinner with every bath which gives me a feeling it might just get extinct one day! Then i wudnt even have something to complain about! My! Too much of an injustice to a Keralite woman , the land of women with long hair..:)

95% of my nicknames are based on my hair some of which are unmentionable :)
But my hair did do me some good many a times in life. It helped me most in crowded buses where others attempts to deliberately embrace me from behind could be easily thwarted. U know how... :)

In class 12, teacher was trying to explain DNA double helix structure ( ya i was bio-maths ) , and guess what ! my hair came in handy!! The moment she would mention about schlerenchyma cells ( those found in fibrous plant parts like coir! ) my stupid classmates would all turn back to me!! as though they can get to see it on my head ! To add fuel to fire, Radhika miss would ask, ' hey! y r u all looking at Remya? ' , and the class would burst into laughter.

It also helped me escape ragging in the first year of b-tech. I never came in my seniors screened list of girls to be ragged (thank god!). They might have not wanted to waste time with a skinny girl with curly hair. But i was caught later due to my explicit ability to dance( !!! what a mess i made out of it!! ) on the freshers day , and yeah.. for some more other reasons.

People found it easy to recognize me from a distance even after several years!! thanks to my curls !! Or else, how would Revathy, my kindergarten buddy, recognise me in class 12, and come running to me calling my name? ( I took a few minutes to recognise her though ! )

It became easier many times in life, when i talked to my old teachers( who wud've taught many Remyas ) through the phone, introducing myself as ' Remya, maa'm ..ur curly haired student...!!!'. The response would be quick..' Ya Ya...got it...Remya Ann...yes..tell me Remya...'

There were instances when my tution sir (who was quite impressed with me) wud ask my classmates who joined for the next batch for graphics tution..' O..u are from adi shankara..electrical?? so remya is in ur class? the curly hair girl'?? ( he swings his hand in action near his head!! ) God! those guys made mince meat out of me flashing this news in my class !! But it was all gr8 fun!

I am leaving lot of things i want to write for the simple reason that the article wud become too long.

Whatever it might be...my hair gave me many good memories in my school as well as my college life. My identity is unique and i really love my life :) :)

THE WIND

Its pack-up time...not for me, but for the b-tech girls in NITC ladies hostel. Their exams are over and would leave tomorrow. The hostel will be deserted for the next three months, sans girls in short outfits, sans noise, sans celebration, sans fun. I do not know many of them, but it was indeed very nice to be with this swarm of noisy, intelligent human beings, in the mess, in the tv room and on the way out in the mornings.

The hostel is dull with all of them busy packing, cleaning and tidying up. In the process, the walkways have become messy with heaps of paper, thermocole, cardboards and lots of other junk. In a day or two, the bustle would die down. And i would be left behind, with my solitude. The solitude for which my heart yearned for years. It wud be difficult to believe but thats the truth. Yeah..ders a beauty in solitude!

The summer heat left me really uncomfortable in the third and the topmost floor of the hostel. And I discovered that the windows by the side of the stairs were excellent sources of fresh air and cool breezes. But, the exam bug bitten gals always promptly filled up those hotspots and gleefully...(o no..they were tensed ok) did their studying. Though i wud miss their presence, i am happy, those windows will now be mine.

And The Wind will be mine...

Its raining almost heavily here, after a really looongg tym !

I stand by the verandah on the topmost floor where i can get a really gud view of the ladies hostel. The Wind is pretty strong and it throngs me as though it loves me. The rain is not bad either. Its a great sight! The Wind playing around with the trees in the vicinity, making coconut trees go mad and drop a dried leaf(??) or branch,( i dun know wat to call it!) once in a while. The rain pouring down from heaven above. The windows are banging hard wherever its open. Down below, i can see gals carrying their luggage and mattresses to some other common location.

I shift my 'location' to the above said windows, and from their i can enjoy The Wind again, see the rain and the big playground beyond. Had it not been a playground (i mean kinda open space), The Wind wud not have been omnipresent.

Yeah, I will not get to see many human beings for the next month (after may my classes would resume and ma frnds would be bak!!) . But, I am so happy coz for some days ...

The Wind will be mine...:)

The rain will be mine...:)

and the star lit nights will also be mine...:)

( not to mention all the water in our water tank :P, u see, water is such a scarce resource; the lesser the number people to share it with, the better !!! )

PUNISHMENT

The summer heat was on. Every moment whether indoors or outdoors, the heat did not spare me. It gave me such a headache with which i cud not even sleep at night. Not to mention the boils on my skin. In such a condition a train journey was terrifying but it was inevitable. I had to be at Kochi to attend my best friends wedding. It was one of ma usual train journeys, with the difference that the train was not janshatabdi or intercity but 'parashuram', infamous for its discomfort and too many number of stops. I boarded the train and ya.. got a seat! But that happiness was not for long :(

'Innnncchhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiii mittttaaaaaaaaaaaiiiii................' ,' kappalandi mittaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiii' !!!!!!! ..................the TORTURE had begun!!
The vendor effortlessly drilled my ear from one end to the other (sheer habit!!). I was at the aisle, i mean, sitting near the pathway and that was just the beginning! The whole array of IRCTC heroes followed suit with their own items,and their own styles...'appam-muttakari'! 'bread-omlette' ! 'idli-vada'! kaapi kaapi kaapi......!! chaai chaai chaai...!!! , and of course, the chocolates wallas, cool drink wallas , vendors with newspapers and magazines, glitter pens and noisy toys, railway timetables, cd roms, and what not! One by one , they pushed their way through the crowd(i was reminded of shabarimala). Alas..!! The train was a big bazaar by itself, but noisy and uncomfortable.

The moment the train halted at shornur...i was drowned in the cacaphony of the pazhampori wallas( not to exclude parippu vada and uzhunnu vada )and a whole set of similar vendors who barged at the train with notions of a heavy business. I was having a time of my life with the noise, heat and the smell from the toilet and the station. I wished i could sleep but very well knew it was a distant dream.

But i was all regards for the above mentioned vendors once the beggars began their show. It seemed all the beggars employed with Indian Railways where in that train. They were of all ages and disabilities, some where old , some where mothers with kids, some where children, some where lame, some where blind , some where diseased( maybe coz they never bath! ), and some where , to my great dismay...SINGERS! Now...i could tolerate anything except singing..!!!

The honourable singers came in groups of 2 or 3 , and played havoc with some nice hindi songs...' kithna sona thuje rabne banaayaa...'(Raja Hindustani), and one long faced guys song...yup got it...' bohoth pyaar karthe he tumko sanam...'. When the song scaled up to ' kasam chaahe leelooo...' i almost shut my ears in disgust! what a tragedy to get to hear these hindi songs in tamil slang ! Two stones where rubbed in a queer way to produce the background score for their 'melliflous' music. The smallest of the group will be in charge of collecting the money for the service they rendered!! :(

Had they simply begged, i would have given alms...!! but not for this punishment!

The next ordeal waiting ahead for us was something i never saw before! A set of shabbily dressed(it goes without saying though)tamil speaking acrobats!! The elder girl whislted( my ear had almost turned numb by this time, so it was ok) and the small boy with her, jumped on to her and stood upright on her shoulders almost touching the roof. And from there he shouted " padikan paisayilla amma, oru chaaya kudikaanulla paisayengilum thaa.., nooru rupayonum chodichillalo , oru roopayalle chodichullu...". He next climbed down, requested for space and began to somersault every time his 'akka' whistled. The boy looked about 6 years and the girl wud've been about 12 or 13 years of age. The audience...oops ,i mean the passengers were spell bound and 10 rupee notes and 5 rupee coins found their way into the bowl. The team( who would've very well brought an olympics medal to India), happily set forth for the next set of sympathetic Keralites.

I was quite surprised to see my fellow passengers opening up their purse everytime someone asked for alms..I did not give alms to anybody who begged in the train. Its not coz i dont have any regard for people who are underprevileged but what people fail to understand is the fact that begging is today a big business, with turnovers which are beyond our imagination. People quickly forget the newspaper reports which throw light on the intricacies and the crimes related to this business which i do not want to explain.

I complained to the station master against the unlawful beggary in trains, specially those involving children. But he expressed his helplessness citing the kind of public support for these ventures. It happens in a country which is thought to be one of the fastest growing economies in the world. If we cannot open our eyes against such gross violation of law under our nose( i mean child labour) how can we expect our country to grow?

We may give alms and help them with a square meal. But,they will always remain beggars. I think we must seriously discourage beggary (at least in trains) so that we can put a halt to the activities of the mafia behind them and persuade them to get rehabilitated, if there is any such move from the authorities.

I may be right or wrong . But for the time being, i think i am right.

THE NAME

Valappottukal, literally means broken bangles..almost every girls collection until some time back ( i dun really know what girls would like to collect nowadays though!). Neverthless, i never had any such fancy for bangles during my childhood or rather didnt get a chance(to be explained later). Instead, i fancied collecting 'manjaadikurus' ,the small shiny red seeds of the manjaadi tree, which was in bounty during summers, in the backyards of ma paternal home. i used to collect it, competing with fellow collectors, with a sense of urgency which perhaps i never gave to anything else then. It was as though we were fighting for survival.But i did neither spare the local boys who came along with us. I had my own favourites out of them (influence of films at a young age!!). Every tym i made a collection i wud add it to the tumbler/bottle which served as the warehouse, and wud count it from 1 onwards...i wanted to make it 1000...but i dun remember reaching dat figure anytime.

Coming back to valappottukal..well, the first thing that comes to my mind is the kaleidoscope. Remember those colour paper covered slender things with mirrors and broken bangles inside, giving an illusion of colouful pattern formations everytime u shake and view through it. Initially, i thought it to be magic! It did take some time for me to digest the truth when someone told me about the broken bangles inside.Dunno y, didnt want to believe it then!

But it did teach me dat even broken bangles can make meaning! and brighten up a child's world by its simple display of colours and patterns.

But it was until i saw deepas private collection of broken glass bangles, i realised what it means to a common girl. One of those b-tech days, when i was at her home for the so called 'combine study' for the first time, she led myself and nitya to her bedroom so that we could gossip with greater ease, without disturbing others at home.

It was then that i noticed something sort of an old powder tin i guess, or maybe an opaque plastic bottle kept close to the window.On enquiry, deepa took the bottle and proudly displayed the contents...it was full of colouful broken glass bangles!! of all colours and lengths...i was quickly reminded of my brief association with bangles.

Glass bangles were banned at home, for the simple reason that it could make my hand bleed any time. Once my aunt gifted me with green glass bangles, 'kuppivallakal' as we call it and i immediately adorned it assuming myself to be a film star. And after a while everyone heard me scream, u can guess what happened.That was the end of my tryst with glass bangles. My overprotecting mom never quite allowed my association with them again. I guess i must not blame my mom coz at dat age i was many times more destructive than any other girl. I would spoil anything dat comes to me, toys , clothes or watever of that sort within no time of its attainment.And why wud i spare bangles, in fact all other kinds of bangles which i owned ( really dunno wat crap material it was made of) had shapes anything other than round shape which rendered it impossible for use. Now, i dun think dat was my fault...they just got so easily squashed...!

Guests were educated about my behaviour and discouraged from bringing gifts and toys for me. I remember with great grief how my mom locked up a multi purpose pencil box out of my sight during my UKG,which saw light only after my graduation!!! just imagine!! The box was a 'gulf' one with magnetic tops on either sides gifted by my uncle who was very generous before he got married(:P). It was baby pink in colour( it still is) and had push buttons all around for all kinda things to pop out, ranging from pencil sharpener and eraser to glue, scissors and cellotape. My intelligent mom took it away even before i could cast my eyes on it properly and diverted my attention to some other trivial tit bits of gulf junk!!

Ya...coming back to the topic...well deepas collection of broken bangles made me think of the number of bangles she would've owned during childhood! Perhaps every girl has such collections which need not always be the same.I believe all such small things matter a lot and add meaning to our small cute life!

This blog , i would like to transform into such an endeared collection of my stupid thoughts, big and small :) and hence the name!

My! one might guess whats in name but it jus terribly matters at times !
wanted to register it as www.valappottukal.blogspot.com but alas thats not available.
then i tried www.entevalappottukkal.blogspot.blah blah ...dat too isnt available.
was surprised to know that ppl think the same way as me.

At last, i settle down with www.kunjuvalappottukal.blogspot.com . phew!! wat a relief!
ya maybe i am destined to own smaller pieces of colourful broken bangles !!

Whatever...dats ok..and i think i really like blogging!
Not very sure...dun quite know if i can really cling on to this.
Nyways, dats it for now.

WELCOME

Hi all,

A Warm Welcome to my blog !!! :)

Finally..! here's my entry in to the bloggers world. there was a point of time when i couldnt imagine myself getting involved with such techie stuffs coz for me writing always had to have a pen and a paper.den i wud lazily look out of the window and close my eyes in the process of mining my mind and put it down in ink. wow! what solace it can give a person.

Now u would wonder what exactly prompted me to start with the blog. when the whole world has been taken by storm by the bloggers , i was unperturbed. i thought it was too techie a thing to attempt.

i lay my hands on everything else; beginning with gmail, yahoo mail, chats , orkut, facebook, twitter and buzz, but never touched nything like a blog. read lots about 'bloggers making impact' in the newspapers, read some interesting blogs of ma frnds and frnds of frnds...but nay...i was nowher near a blog.

Now that i have started with a blog ...the reason is plain and simple...' SOLITUDE ' !!

solitude coupled with free wifi internet services.

My internship left me alone with somthing kinda 'empty nest syndrome' , wherein all ma frnds left me back here at calicut where i am doing my mba, and flung to different parts of the country.

So guys, dats it for now. i have BEGUN. no idea where i will take it to. but looking forward to a good blogging experience.

RAJ