image source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ashtalakshmi_temple_2.jpg
“Paati is waiting for you da”, - a beaming Cheenu welcomed me as I stepped out from the train onto the platform full of masked humans and a few unmasked dogs. Cheenu is my cousin, if you must know, the one who is still on poda-vaada terms. They say home is a place where all your senses come alive. For me the smell of Chennai central station is the signal to my brain that I have arrived home. The smell of homemade food of transiting travelers, busy with their open tiffin boxes spread along colorful mats mingled with the stench of long journeyed trains and their ablutions made for a distinct mix. Cheenu grabbed my suitcase and duffel and proceeded to admonish me for making the trip amidst all the happenings.
“How is paati now?”, I asked, the only thing on my mind. She is ok - I don’t know why you panicked and came all the way. She is fine, nothing to worry. Happy to see you but…
Paati and Thatha have been my gods and guardians all my life. ‘It's ok Cheenu, no big deal. Corona won’t eat me”.
“Still da - It is stupid of you to come at this time. How was quarantine in Delhi? ”
“Yeah, was ok”, I said distractedly.
I felt like Nemo, navigating my way through the jellyfish as I tried all kinds of distancing approaches as Cheenu and I made our way out of platform 6 to the car park. Chandru was waiting with a beaming smile, holding the door of the freshly cleaned spotless white Maruti swift. “Vaanga sir, oorla ellam sowkiyama”? Chandru has been with us for as long as I can remember, a permanent fixture in my paati’s household.
“Ellam fine Chandru, you are all doing ok?”
“Doing ok sir, except for this Corona saniyan”, he retorted as he deftly arranged the luggage in the trunk of the car.
“So how is US da”, asked Cheenu.
“Well you probably know more than I do”. Cheenu and I talk every other day on the phone and he always has an opinion on how the US should handle the coronavirus situation. Well actually Cheenu really has an opinion on everything Trump.
“You see he committed a blunder da, in this China situation.”
I quickly wanted to change the subject else I would have to endure a whole reddit thread on Trumpism.
“Sir this China virus - when will it go sir” - interjected Chandru.
“Chandru - it is not called China virus”
“Yes, Yes I know Corona sir, but started in China no? “
“Well…Ok let that be - so tell me how did Paati get tested positive” ?
“This is all nonsense da,” Cheenu angrily started. “She never gives up her temple duties you know - In her advanced age is it so important to supervise the celebrations at the temple? She never listens. She was singing for 3 hours with all those old ladies.”
In my now almost daily Google meet calls, Paati and Thatha had conveniently hidden this fact.
“You both should stay at home and not step out. No walks nothing, ok”, had been my closing refrain every single day. I could see Paati nod gently in acceptance on my Meet screen.
“Ok I am serious - this is not over yet. Paati - Ask Mala to take care of all the temple duties for now sariya?”
“Sari da kanna. You people have bigger issues in Kalifornia. See Kali is in the name itself! So you be safe - we will be fine.”, she signed off with her hearty laugh.
And yet Paati had tricked me and now she has tested positive.
“Nothing to worry da. She had been having some headache and couldn’t sleep. So Mala asked our Gopalan doctor to come and check. She is actually fine now”
I put my head back and closed my eyes rewinding three decades of my life.
“Kuzhandai is doing well in his studies, we should maybe send him to Brilliant tutorials in T Nagar”, I could hear Paati talking to Thatha. Kuzhandai was how she called me. I was always a baby to her. In those days, money was tight between Thatha’s pension and running the house. “Loan podalam, veedu thaan irukke” - Thatha would mortgage his house to do anything for me.
“Don’t be stupid.” I rushed over. Adellam not needed. I am not going to IIT anyway.
Paati didn’t give up but it would have been too selfish of me to take away a precious piece of their property. I wore her down. She would never forget that in these 30 years. Often this conversation would come up in some form or another.
“If you had done engineering you would have been like Sundar. PSBB lla padi chittu now you are doing reporter work? “
“Sundar was in Times of India paati, I am with The Hindu what’s the big deal ?”
“I meant Sundar Pichai” she exclaimed! You wasted your life. “Atleast you could have been like Indra? You could have gone to IIM?”
Thatha poked his head into the Meet camera and quipped “Narayanan did well. Brilliant boy he went to Stanford and is now teaching at Harvard”
“Oh Narayanan level vera na” - Patti quipped. He could have been at least like Ramabadran no? He went to BITS”
I let the Indra reference slip. I knew she meant Indra Nooyi. For Tamil Brahmins the pinnacle of achievement is first, education and then the social strata that the education helps one climb.
“Ok Paati - this was all 35 years back. Why bring this up now?. I am doing fine.”
“You know your father’s uncle was the head of BHEL and was asked to be in the Janata government, IAS topper?”
Again Thatha’s head reared up in the Meet window. “And he wore his cheecharnam everyday”.
Cheecharnam is the symbol of our sect that is worn on our forehead with pride and piety. Overtime I reserved it for the once a year Avani avittam when Thatha would diligently go through the session and insist on doing it with all the checks and balances. It was his way of hanging on to the ever thinning thread of culture that connected his world and mine.
“It is all your fault”, Paati would turn to Thatha and admonish him. You should have insisted he studied for engineering or doctor.
Education was an important peak in the climb to the pinnacle of being a Tamil Brahmin. A temple sanctum that symbolized the surety of knowledge, one that once belonged exclusively to Brahmins. The erosion of the community’s importance to the governance of the state and the country in the wake of the Dravidian movement in the 1960s left an indelible mark. The need for assertion of knowledge shifted to the technical and business fields and IITs and business schools soon replaced the administrative service as symbols of new priesthood.
“Your Komanna friend keeps reminding you everyday and you run around with this DesiKhan name and no namam” - Patti reminded me bringing us back to the cheecharnam topic.
Paati was forward thinking and liberal and used to run an orphanage of kids with all castes and creed but as with most cultures, the institution imbibed at birth runs deep. We connect to the world outside us and embrace one and all and yet the longing to further our roots while maintaining tolerance for the ever changing world around, haunts us. Paati was always worried that I would elapse into an ether world devoid of deities, swirling in scientific certainties far removed from her intuitive bhakti.
“If we don’t showcase our culture who will Kozhande, we have held on for thousands of years”
“Yes Paati, I am your grandson and I will always remain your ambi”, I teased her.
“Pray every morning. Light a lamp. Do it for me”, she would plead.
These Meet sessions usually ended with her swishing her hands over my face and bending her palm with the knuckles making a pop sound in an act of relieving Drishti or warding off the evil spirit.
“I am not an important person paati, I don’t need drishti!”
My thoughts were interrupted as the car came to halt. Paati in her brilliant red saree matched by the round red pottu with the kungumam spread over her forehead looked divine as always though a bit tired. Thatha in his spotless veshti and white shirt was standing at the gate waiting to hug me. It was his ritual and many a time he would struggle to hold his tears.
“Vaada kanna” he welcomed with a hug. Paati was standing inside the house by the front door.
“Give him a tighter hug on my behalf also, I can’t touch him”.
This strain of virus has strained the physical expression of love and affection. I could see my Paati holding back torn between her heart and mind. I bent down in front of her.
“Paati kiss me on my forehead as you always do, I am not going to eat with my forehead!”
With a gentle kiss she said “I have made paruppu thogayal and milagu kuzhambu with potato. Take bath and come soon”
She knew exactly what I liked. Food and music were first among equals to education in a Brahmin house.
“Ok paati. BTW did you all see Kamala got nominated for VP? I am going to be interviewing her soon”
“Oh yes good. Your Thatha and Gopalan used to go walking on Besant Nagar beach”.
As I headed to the bathroom I could hear Cheenu shout teasingly.
“Even if he didn’t do engineering he could have been like Kamala right Paati?….”
I turned and threw the towel at him.
I could hear Paati’s muted voice from the kitchen.
“I should have taught him how to make Thogayal. He could have been at least like Padma Lakshmi”
I smiled and headed to the shower as the divine voice of MS Subbalakshmi spread out through the stereo. “Kurai onrum illai marai moorthy kanna…”