This is me now, that is me then

I always thought my english was decent.Arre what the hell, I always thought my english was good.Pseud.:P.I know using large words often at wrong times to convey the wrong meaning is hardly impressive but then I just always thought.But times are fast changing and with it so is my control over the language.

Take for instance a conversation with Zulu.Somewhere down the line I make the arbit statement , "Ya da he is a black horse".!!!!.Worsht.Zulu smiles and replies "Dark horse".I look at him and realise the unbelievable words which had emerged from my mouth.

And I knew I had reached the nadir of my english-speaking-life when I sat down to write an IP.Fete IP.Narmad junta can later go and check this one out.:P.BAsically there was a line I was trying to complete, something about not having enough time.So it went something like "... but I think we are cutting it ...".I bulbed.I forgot the usage "cutting it fine".I thought of all the adjecties that could come there.Thick? Hard ? Thin? I finally wrote thin and reread it to realise it didnt sound right.So I in a fit of rage i cut it out and wrote some other equally shady line.

Anyways , paying some respect to the ideal of sticking to titles, I shall explain the veracity of the same.So I went home Wednesday and chanced upon this old essay I had written.On reading the same, I realised that I had proof that my linguistic abilities had indeed diminished (which is to say that the essay was very good).Without batting an eyelid I shall include the essay, more like a story, for I really think its high time something worth reading is put up.

"I am going to the shandy, Amma", Souri called from the hall to his mother, Kamakshi in this kitchen. As she came out and saw her tall, handsome, sixteen year old son getting into the bllock cart she felt a surge of pride.

Her husband, Swaminatha Aiyar was sitting on the swing in the courtyard. "What has come over this boy ?", he said, "till two weeks ago , we had to coax him to go to the shandy. Now he leaves so early. ""It is age ," came the voice of her mother-in-law , Visalam, sitting and punding betel leaves on the floor, "he may want to meet his freinds there".

Little did they know the true reason for Souri's new found eagerness. It was the girl in a velvet pavadai who came to the shandy every week with her brother.When he had first seen her, he had asked his best friend Venkuttu eho she was. Venkuttu explained that she was the eldest daughter of the engineer's family, which had recently moved into their street.He had also said that the family was a very fashionable but respectable Brahmin one.The girl, whose name was Savithri, was eleven years old and had studied upto the fifth standard.

Souri's heart stopped and he decided that this was the girl he was going to marry .After all, what did he lack? .He was the son of a reasonable wealthy Brahmin family who ran the only vegetarian restaurant in that area.He had gone to school and passed his intermediate - no less. He was dark, tall and well-built and was particularly proud of his ceremonial tuft of hair or kudumi that he carefully tended.

After two or three weeks of hesitation, he fially managed to blurt out his heart to his grandmother. His grandmother tactfully told his father. The neighbourhood matchmaker was called and told of the issue.Souri's jathakam was dusted and taken out and the matchmaker was sent on a visit to the engineer's house to get Savithri's horoscope.

The matchmaker was successful in getting the horoscope and Souri was indeed happy when he heard that the horoscopes matched.He thought that his path was clear.But it was not to be. The matchmaker returned with a long face. It seemed that the girl's family would only consider a boy who was studying to be a graduate. Further, they were obstinate that the boy should cut off his kudumi and have neatly cropped hair in the Western style.

Souri's father suspected there were just excuses, because though they felt the were both Brahmins ,they were considered of lower status for he ran a hotel. Most educated Brahmins thought this to be an unsuitable profession for the upper caste. "Cut off the kudumi indeed! Who do they think they are ?" , Sauri's grandmother said , "This girl is not for our boy! ".

But Souri continued to dream , unmindless of this rejection. In ten days, he went to his father and started a conversation. "Kunju mama is going back to Madras. Let me also go with him to Madras." His father was surprised ; Kunju mama was Souri's uncle who was a lecturer in a college in Madras.

"I want to go with him and get admission for a degree course in Physics.He says that I can stay with his family and study. "His father's surprise increased. His son had earlier shown no inclination to go away to Madras for further education. He was also secretly pleased. But not showing his happiness, he said gruffly "Do what you want to do. If you want money for the journey and the fees, get it from the kanakupillai."

Ans so, Sauri took his elders' blessings and set off with his uncle for Madras, a journey of which took seven days, part of it being by train and part of it by bullock cart.Soon he got admission in the degree course and paid his fees. As college was due to open only a month later, he rushed all the way back to his home town to announce this news to Savithri's family and press his cse again.

His family was overjoyed to see him back. After he had bathed and was about to start his lunch, his mother gently broached the topic. "You know, the engineer's house ... "Looking up eagerly, Souri said ,"What is it ,mother? - I saw that the front of their house was beautifully decorated with a ceremonial Kolam".

"It is that girl Savithri's nischayathartham this evening, " she said.Sauri felt as though his world had collapsed.

Souri's heart fell as the other details fell in place. The bridegrom was the son of the headmaster of the town's high school. He was also studying for his degree at Madras.Souri knew where they lived, which was two streets away from his own.

He thought very hard. he knew the bridegroom's party would be leaving for the wedding in a few hours time.He tied up his tuft and purposefully strode out.

It was later in the afternoon , the mnefolk had just had their lunch when they heard a call from the outside. It was the matchmaker - "Is anyone home ? ", he called rushing in as he called out. He excitedly explained to Souri's father that Savithri's wedding had been suddenly called off since the bridegroom's party had seen an ill omen as they were just leaving their house. Her family was desperate now as all the wedding arrangements had been made.The appalams had been dried in the sun and 108 of each type of batchanams as required by tradition, had already been prepared.They would not last for more than a week! So, they had asked the matchmaker to find out if Souri's family would still like to finalise the alliance. In the ensuing confusion, Souri's grandmother quietly enquired with broker what the ill omen that appeared before the earlier bridegroom's family.

"Oh that! It was a single Brahmin youth with his kudumi all tied up - a really inauspicious sight".

To Souri, it was a dream come true.The prized kudimi was cut off , the marriage was finalised and solemnised in the next week as planned.

You may wonder why this story interests me so much. First of all, it is fascinating to know that such customs prevailed in our South Indian community seventy to eighty years ago. It is also interesting to see tht though some changes have been there, many of the features like arranged marriages, horoscopes, superstitions still remain part of our culture. The other unchanging feature seen all over the world from time immemorial seems to be the foolhardy devotion of young men in love.

The second reason is that Sourirajan and Savithri lived together for nearly sixty years before his death on 1983. They had three daughters , one of whom is my maternal grandmother. Yes, this is the oft repeated story of how my greatgrandparents got married. Even now, when my ninety year old greatgrandmother tells us the story, she says "I have to thank the Brahmin who appeared before the bridegroom's party with his kudumi of hair - otherwise I would not have had such a happy life." I always see a twinkle in her eye.