Its Sunday!
And its 9.30
AM and I am on schedule.
In my
balcony, hanging out our clothes to dry.
And I have not
seen a single soul so far.
No bustle or
even a hint of the usual hectic typical weekday mornings.
I did not hear
the little one stomping noisily as she runs ahead of her dad on her way to the
School bus. Nor the sound of one little sister cycling along with her mom to
leave her didi at the gate. Did not hear the clear ringing voice of that 6 year
old boy talking to his grand mom is ‘spasht’ tamil!
I did not
see Achachan (grand-dad in Malayalam) carrying his grandson in his left arm and
leading his granddaughter with his right forefinger up to the front gate. And
no animated discussion by older kids on the small patch of grass opposite our
right corner bedroom window.
Nor did I
see parents in groups of two’s and three’s, walking back and occasionally stopping
by the fountain to exchange a few bits of news before they get back to their
hectic schedule for the day!!
No Fly, No
Crow, No Nothing – Eee, Kakka Illai (as the tamils will say)
The only
sign of life – the silent, electric, green, farm fresh vegetable cart (all
eco-friendly and organic - mind it!)
All peace
and quiet. So calm and serene. Like Shantivan - a wonderful atmosphere well
worth the crores we payed to Sobha.
What did the
kids do on a Sunday morning???
My data is
badly outdated, but I guess most of them are still sleeping.
And now I
see Hari coming near the fountain with a few kids. The SP cricket coaching
session is about to start!!
When I was
8, my Sundays were packed.
Dad had
bought an old second hand Lambretta scooter and she was a B&%$! Her
crankiness cranked up a couple of notches every time her engine got cranked.
The daily routine was for me was to give her a couple of kicks to prime her
engine and get the petrol flow started. Then dad would give a few more powerful
kicks and she roared to life fumigating the entire place with white exhaust
fumes. Sorry no Euro4 or Bharat Stage 4 standards nor feather touch start
buttons then.
Come Sunday
and our Lambretta was the princess in a beauty parlour! All the four of us
rushed out to wash and clean her.
I went with
a bucket full of water. My next in line sister closely followed me with a mug
full of frothy shampoo, then majli (the middle one) with yellow Waxpol car
polish tin and chataki with dad’s torn banian and a large piece of mom’s saree.
Chatak = Ozhaakku = a small unit of measure.
And we went
about with the enthusiasm and energy levels of a newly promoted call center team lead.
Splashed and
shampooed Lambretta, cleaned and dried her, splashed water under the footboard
to dislodge those gobar lumps and lovingly polished her! With great care and dedication no less than
that of that pious Bhattachar who washes and adorns the Ganapathi idol every sankata-hara-chaturthi day at the
entrance of CT Street!!
We did not
put sandal paste or Kumkum on her- that was reserved for Ayudha Puja on the 13th
day of Dussehra.
25 years
later, I found myself doing the same thing – this time with my second hand Fiat 1100 car and ably
assisted by my 5-year-old daughter.
Those days, people owning cars were an elite lot.
Passionate
& loving, they were expert mechanics who cared & nurtured their car religiously
every Sunday. Every car whether it was a brand-new black Ambassador or the old
veteran Standard-10 station wagon, each one needed attention weekly – fill up
radiator water, top up engine oil, clean battery leads on top, clean air filter,
grease all joints and door hinges and finally tune up the engine.
Engine tuning
was a fine art requiring immense patience, expertise and concentration – keeping
one ear dangerously close the hot engine as you precisely turn the screws of
the inlet gas and air nozzles alternately to ensure you get that perfect purr!!
Sunday
mornings, you could not walk a couple of blocks around Mylapore or Mandeville
or Malleshwaram, without noticing a middle-aged mama bending over the front of
his beloved car – with his seni-bald head lost under the open bonnet and his
white veshti covered butt jutting up on top of the radiator!
Groups of
car owners would also surprisingly form within seconds to discuss the intricacies
of car maintenance, mileages and expert opinions on nearby service stations
& mechanics. (sadly, today WhatsApp has taken away that personal touch and
passion)
I am sure
today’s flash mobs had their origin somewhere here!
And all such
activities had to finish before 11AM Sharp.
11AM on the dot,
Sunday mornings, All India froze.
Every TV anywhere
in India tuned into Ramanand Sagar’s Ramayan and later to Yash Chopra’s
Mahabharat.
And while
Klaatu (Keanu Reeves) managed to freeze the world by a couple of minutes,
Ramanand Sagar & Yash Chopra froze our part of the world by full 60 minutes!!
And they did
it each successive Sunday for 180 weeks in a row !!!
And needless
to say…
Our Gods,
even inside our small TV screens are much more powerful than the imported
Aliens from Outer Space !!!
Krish..
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