Vande Meenakshi Tvam

Just gobbled my lunch without any appetite. I didn’t want to sit and discuss stories with pregnant women post lunch as usual. Our tamizh gang here is surprisingly full of pregnant women, who discuss all stories on sickness, that tips, this tips. Usual cooking recipes, shopping. How much their husbands help or do not help with chores and similar stories. This afternoon, I said, no, I have work and came off.

Just came to sit in my seat and suddenly, NJ started humming Dil samandar song. As usual, everyone near by caught the song. And now in my mind, it got switched to Vande Meenakshi tvam. Some how, of all songs taught in school by our music teacher Muthulakshmi madam, this song stayed with me, even after almost 17 years. When we were kids, sugi and I would go to rose aunty’s house for golu and sing this song along with other simple small songs and eat sundal and sweets. This song has a nice soothing lilt that lingers for a while. It is still ringing in my ears – the whole class singing this song in unison. Only now I did a google and searched for the meaning in http://guruguha.wikispaces.com/vandeminakshi. Cute little song and a lingering tune that our madam had given it.

We came to this quarters when I was in 4th standard. Now we are the only ones to still stay in this block after almost 20 years. Amongst all the fleeting things in this temporal world, this is one place, which I can say is relatively permanent. We were in D and rose aunty was in F. She used to have rose flower pots. Her daughter gayathri was very charming and her son was literally non existent. Of all those years, I had interacted with him only twice. One night I was musing on life up in the terrace in complete darkness, sprawled over bare cement tiles beneath the mango tree looking up at the sky and the twittering stars and he startled me with what on earth are you doing here alone. Second time, in college, I had to rush back home due an irritable bowel and he gave me lift from oft roundana till home; that is hardly 5 minutes walk. Now, when I went home for ugadi holidays, mom said, he had met with an accident and could not even do the kriya karm for his dead father. His dead father is the reason, that my mom says, why the neem tree behind the block had half wilted to death. Gayathri had married a guy and got separated, married someone else. God knows what story. I don't remember.

Those days, I used to pluck roses and keep it on my hair. After plucking, I would go to rose aunty and ask for one more rose. Now, I would rather parch to death but not ask for water from strangers. But those days, down floor neighbour was for teaching hindi, opposite block down floor thaatha was for teaching me English grammar. Opposite house Usha was for TV. Now, I would rather prefer to see roses on their stems than plucking them, but those days, I was notorious and used to pluck flowers just to annoy my neighbours. At last, rose aunty did one clever thing. She told me, that she has put egg manthram for rose flowers. If anyone stole roses, then the egg will roll and come at night and break on their tummy. It is so insane, but man, I believed that story and kept away from her roses ever since that.

Then Sudha’s family came opposite door and they kept roses as well. I used to pluck that as well. They took on to keeping the rose pots on the TV antenna platform. I used to climb up the TV antenna tower and still pluck the buds to annoy them. It was 8th standard, when I started to respect flowers and treat them as god’s special creations. I started watering them and after that sudha aunty told that I was not supposed to water them, when I had chums. So I left watering it. Every morning, I would go to the pot and eagerly look for the rose. I used to go early morning, so that I could watch it blossom with early morning sunlight. Man, flowers are such delight, the only solace, in this stinking polluted world.