I was in a fix last week.We had just seen two farewell sessions at college,I had a couple of assignments edging towards the deadline,a dissertation topic in indecision and a half formed post in mind.Was crammed for creative expression when Silverine saved the day.I take up my first tag enthusiastically.
1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATRE:
A Malayalam movie called "Chocolate".Was no good, but we went from our class and cheered loudly when our principal's name flashed across the screen and everytime they showed our college.
2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
"Nilathezhutthu",by Rev.Boby Jose Kattikadu
3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Good old Snakes and ladders,Luddo and Monopoly
4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?
Reader's Digest(before they started the Indian edition),Don Bosco,The Week.
5. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Smell of mummy's sambhar and lime pickle,new books,roses and kundirikkam (incense).
6. FAVORITE SOUND?
The lunch bell,wind chimes,church bells,flute and harp
7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?
When Mum's cross with me.
8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?
Snoozing 5 more mins wont hurt...
9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?
The only place I get food(fast or otherwise) is mum's kitchen.Seldom have to eat outside.
10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?
Emma,Amy,Manna,Elizabeth....haven't found interesting boy's names yet .
11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I’D...?
have a difficult time keeping count of it....!
12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?
Not more than 40 km/hr on my scooter.
Better late than never!
13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
Thought it was fashionable to do so from the illustrations in Enid Blyton's"Bedtime stories".Had a Winnie-the-Pooh(a long time back) who found himself on the floor by midnight.
14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?
Somewhere close to scary
15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?
The brand new blue Maruti 800 from the driving school.Didn't expect the instructor to ask me to get behind the wheel right on day one.
16. FAVORITE DRINK?
Water flavoured with ramacham,sambharam(butter-milk),lemonade with soda.
17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD
...waste more,probably;24 hrs is enough for me...
18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?
I hate leafy vegetables!
19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?
No way,my hair is beautiful as it is.
20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.
Kothamangalam, Trivandrum, and Ernakulam.
21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Wish Rahul Dravid played something else.
22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU.
Sterling Silver (ine)!
23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
A lot of dust(because i haven't bothered to sweep under it)and one amused spider I chased under it last night(spidy,you are done for,I'm going to get the vacuum cleaner!)
24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?
Anytime!
25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?
Morning person on normal days,night owl on the eve of exams.
26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?
Sunny side up...
27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?
Home sweet home
28. FAVORITE PIE?
Not a Simple Simon!
29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
Any flavour would do because ice creams are forbidden to me....Tonsillitis
30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?
Emily
Im tagging
Merin
Emily
Anish
Neil
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Lenten Graces
Lent has always been special to me.
As a kid, I used to realize it only when Mum stopped cooking meat and fish.It used to be hard to abstain when we were in school but practice and the enlightenment on the significance of the observance made things manageable.
Palm Sunday,which opens the Holy Week sees the procession with yellow green fronds,the mini-stampede( that results from the mad rush to get them),and artistically gifted dads making crosses (and even other shapes)out of the fronds to amuse their bored kids.The media men jostle with each other to get the best shot of the day.Incidentally,my first appearance on national television was on one such a day.The prime time news showed me, a toddler of four,frolicking on the church ground ,brandishing the palm leaf.It had a wide viewership among my relatives(it was those dark ages with only Doordarshan)who describe the scene whenever they see me and make me go pink in the face.
On Maundy Thursday we would be at our native place in Ernakulam,gathered around the table for the Pesaha feast.It was an occasion for a family members to gather.The men folk turn up only when it was time to partake of the Inriappam and the Pesaha paal and declare that those in nighties are representatives of Judas Iscariot! This would cause the poor women to rush to their rooms and change into their saris.The ones who get the small crosses,made from tiny strips of the palm leaf, were pronounced 'lucky'.
I used to be scared to sleep at night, with the moon light streaming into the room,for fear of the Angel of Doom looming outside.It took an explanation from Dad, that we had marks on our heart to save us from the angel's sword,to calm my fears.As kids,we never saw the inside of the church during those three days.It was naturally crowded and Dad gladly took the opportunity to take us for a stroll by the lake behind the church and meet up with his old friends,doing exactly the same thing with their kids.
When we reached high school,Neil and I declared that we'd rather celebrate our Holy Week in Trivandrum.By then we had become fans of church music and bought prayers books to use for those days.
The Way of the Cross caught our special interest with it's magnetic music inlaid with cathartic pathos.We even started doing it in our home with rosaries positioned in 14 places around the living room.
Back in Trivandrum they annually conduct a combined Way of the Cross which brings together the Catholics of the city.It gave a sense of pride and unity to be a part of the solemn crowd that paraded the city.
Good Friday sees the maximum turn out at our parish.Classmates whom we never knew to be of the same parish,teachers,friends, good-looking gals and guys(wonder where this group hibernates for the rest of the year ?) ; a sea of familiar faces.The hot 'kanji',and mango pickle served for the lunch on Good Friday fast always tastes like ambrosia.If the volunteers were your friends you were sure to get a liberal helping of the 'kaippu neer'(juice of bitter gourd leaves) .The wry faces after tasting the juice and the railings of the church stained in green(that's the fate of the 'liberal' helping) ,the heart wrenching song "Gagultha Malayil ninnum..",the crowd elbowing each other to kiss the life-size statue of Jesus are all vivid memories of the day.As on cue down comes the Good Friday special rain.The perfect end to the day of sorrow.
It was only five years ago that I made my first pilgrimage to Malayatoor.The first visit was more of a pleasure trip because we went as a group from the youth organization.We started the ascend at one in the morning.In the dim lights it was impossible to guess the topography of the place.Far above, shone star like specks which later turned out to be the street lights positioned along the route.I was out of breath before I reached Station One.Atop the mount, I was mesmerized by the beauty of the place than it's religious significance.A panoramic view of the Periyar flowing serenely into the valley ,the valley draped in mist with a thousand shades of green,the cool breeze at 2 in the morning;how I wished to paint it as it was!
The next day however I was down with my legs revolting in pain.The second visit gave me an opportunity to sing during Mass at the hilltop.I was thrilled to hear my voice ring in that sacred chapel blessed by presence of the saint.
The Saturday before Easter is like limbo.We wait eagerly for the big day ahead.By evening the kitchen bustles with activity.Smells which had gone missing for 50 days waft about temptingly and give you a glimpse of the scrumptious feast in store.
Easter Sunday rituals begin at the wee hours of the morning and hence is usually characterized by a sparsely populated church.It takes a mammoth effort to stay awake during the homily.And when you have just thought you have done a good job,the priest sharing pleasantries after Mass,says"Hey, I saw you nodding off!"
Easter dishes feel like them only if you follow the abstinence rigorously.Dad used to hide Easter eggs (those Cadbury ones with Nutties inside)and sent us on a treasure hunt.
Last year,I celebrated Easter Mass at the Basilica in Ernakulam.Inspite of the Mass by the Cardinal,the spectacular and dramatic staging of the Resurrection,and the presence of a very fashionable crowd and I felt hollow in my heart.
Not a single familiar face,in the 500 strong crowd that night !
The biggest deprivation of our transplant to Ernakulam - the social element.Now I understand what used to make the days of this week so special.The Lord rises without a doubt,the rituals and prayers are almost similar in both places,the feast is equally delicious but the real cheer lies in the friendly faces,the smiles and simple wishes of "Happy Easter!" which flow from the profundity of the heart.
Wish you all a warm and Grace filled Easter!
As a kid, I used to realize it only when Mum stopped cooking meat and fish.It used to be hard to abstain when we were in school but practice and the enlightenment on the significance of the observance made things manageable.
Palm Sunday,which opens the Holy Week sees the procession with yellow green fronds,the mini-stampede( that results from the mad rush to get them),and artistically gifted dads making crosses (and even other shapes)out of the fronds to amuse their bored kids.The media men jostle with each other to get the best shot of the day.Incidentally,my first appearance on national television was on one such a day.The prime time news showed me, a toddler of four,frolicking on the church ground ,brandishing the palm leaf.It had a wide viewership among my relatives(it was those dark ages with only Doordarshan)who describe the scene whenever they see me and make me go pink in the face.
On Maundy Thursday we would be at our native place in Ernakulam,gathered around the table for the Pesaha feast.It was an occasion for a family members to gather.The men folk turn up only when it was time to partake of the Inriappam and the Pesaha paal and declare that those in nighties are representatives of Judas Iscariot! This would cause the poor women to rush to their rooms and change into their saris.The ones who get the small crosses,made from tiny strips of the palm leaf, were pronounced 'lucky'.
I used to be scared to sleep at night, with the moon light streaming into the room,for fear of the Angel of Doom looming outside.It took an explanation from Dad, that we had marks on our heart to save us from the angel's sword,to calm my fears.As kids,we never saw the inside of the church during those three days.It was naturally crowded and Dad gladly took the opportunity to take us for a stroll by the lake behind the church and meet up with his old friends,doing exactly the same thing with their kids.
When we reached high school,Neil and I declared that we'd rather celebrate our Holy Week in Trivandrum.By then we had become fans of church music and bought prayers books to use for those days.
The Way of the Cross caught our special interest with it's magnetic music inlaid with cathartic pathos.We even started doing it in our home with rosaries positioned in 14 places around the living room.
Back in Trivandrum they annually conduct a combined Way of the Cross which brings together the Catholics of the city.It gave a sense of pride and unity to be a part of the solemn crowd that paraded the city.
Good Friday sees the maximum turn out at our parish.Classmates whom we never knew to be of the same parish,teachers,friends, good-looking gals and guys(wonder where this group hibernates for the rest of the year ?) ; a sea of familiar faces.The hot 'kanji',and mango pickle served for the lunch on Good Friday fast always tastes like ambrosia.If the volunteers were your friends you were sure to get a liberal helping of the 'kaippu neer'(juice of bitter gourd leaves) .The wry faces after tasting the juice and the railings of the church stained in green(that's the fate of the 'liberal' helping) ,the heart wrenching song "Gagultha Malayil ninnum..",the crowd elbowing each other to kiss the life-size statue of Jesus are all vivid memories of the day.As on cue down comes the Good Friday special rain.The perfect end to the day of sorrow.
It was only five years ago that I made my first pilgrimage to Malayatoor.The first visit was more of a pleasure trip because we went as a group from the youth organization.We started the ascend at one in the morning.In the dim lights it was impossible to guess the topography of the place.Far above, shone star like specks which later turned out to be the street lights positioned along the route.I was out of breath before I reached Station One.Atop the mount, I was mesmerized by the beauty of the place than it's religious significance.A panoramic view of the Periyar flowing serenely into the valley ,the valley draped in mist with a thousand shades of green,the cool breeze at 2 in the morning;how I wished to paint it as it was!
The next day however I was down with my legs revolting in pain.The second visit gave me an opportunity to sing during Mass at the hilltop.I was thrilled to hear my voice ring in that sacred chapel blessed by presence of the saint.
The Saturday before Easter is like limbo.We wait eagerly for the big day ahead.By evening the kitchen bustles with activity.Smells which had gone missing for 50 days waft about temptingly and give you a glimpse of the scrumptious feast in store.
Easter Sunday rituals begin at the wee hours of the morning and hence is usually characterized by a sparsely populated church.It takes a mammoth effort to stay awake during the homily.And when you have just thought you have done a good job,the priest sharing pleasantries after Mass,says"Hey, I saw you nodding off!"
Easter dishes feel like them only if you follow the abstinence rigorously.Dad used to hide Easter eggs (those Cadbury ones with Nutties inside)and sent us on a treasure hunt.
Last year,I celebrated Easter Mass at the Basilica in Ernakulam.Inspite of the Mass by the Cardinal,the spectacular and dramatic staging of the Resurrection,and the presence of a very fashionable crowd and I felt hollow in my heart.
Not a single familiar face,in the 500 strong crowd that night !
The biggest deprivation of our transplant to Ernakulam - the social element.Now I understand what used to make the days of this week so special.The Lord rises without a doubt,the rituals and prayers are almost similar in both places,the feast is equally delicious but the real cheer lies in the friendly faces,the smiles and simple wishes of "Happy Easter!" which flow from the profundity of the heart.
Wish you all a warm and Grace filled Easter!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Parent's Marks
There was not much of a confusion when it was time for Neil and me to start school.We were put in a small convent school in the city.Our parents were particular about our education and sent us to Catholic schools without a second thought(this was way before issues on education of Catholic children came up).However that was the only place where we shared the same classroom.When we completed one year there,Neil left to join a famous boy's only Jesuit school.It was only after I completed my KG that I joined my school where I was to make my destiny for 12 years to come.I was enrolled in one of the prestigious convent schools of the city.Run by foreign nuns,it was a typical convent school which aimed to make perfect ladies out of girls.We received training for the same in every aspect of school life.The timetable always had hours like Needle work,Singing,Moral Science /Catechism,Drill,and S.U.P.W .They did not distinguish between the boy (the school admitted boys till class four) and girl child when it came to all these practices.I still remember 'roguish' boys trying their luck at threading a needle and singing "Do re me...'
Discipline was the watch word of the school.Everything worked on a set of infallible rules.They taught us to pray with "Join your hands,bow your heads,close your eyes and pray...".Catholic students had special intensive training.We were to gather, regularly, at the grotto every morning for the "Morning prayer".There we would say the Our Father,Hail Mary,I Believe,and the Memorare and then wind it up singing a hymn we learned in the Catechism class.In lower classes, the third hour of the day was invariably marked M.S/Catechism on our timetable.Catholic students headed to another classroom while the others read their moral science texts in our own classrooms.We had end of term exams for these subjects too.This was where they included the parent's marks.It might have been a brainwave on the part of some venerable founderess of the school,that it was necessary to have a knowledge of the child's growth in his/her domestic ground.
Parents were required to mark out of 5,their wards scores in"Obedience",Respect for Elders",Improvement in Studies",and "Rendering help at home".
These marks were to be written on a paper,totaled out of 20,signed by the parent and send to the class teacher.My parents were only too happy at this provision and plunged enthusiastically to testify their daughter's progress.
Even though we weren't supposed to open the envelope most of us could not resist the temptation to know our marks and compare it with that of others.The first version of the marks I got was 13/20.(Rendering help at home 2.5/5 (because I wouldn't water the plants),Obedience 3/5 (for refusing those vegetables on my plate)).I was pleased with myself and kept it ready for submission.It was a shock to find that a huge majority had 20/20 ! It seemed like I was the lone un-tameable shrew in the class.However the teacher noticed it too and announced the unsaid clause that parents are not to give full marks at any cost.I resolved to be my best around the time due for the next assessment.This time it improved by one,while the rest of the 'angels' in my class got 19 (some even 19.5).
We had this assessment till class 8 and the best score I ever got was 17/20.No amount of cajoling,reasoning or threats could
make mum put 4's for all the choices."It's for your own good",she'd say.
Now when I think about it,I still cannot hope to get 20/20,but I am sure Ive learned something more important.I imbibed the virtue of honesty from my parents.My school did succeed in it's vision but with a difference,it moulded me and my family.
"God bless our own dear convent school..."
Discipline was the watch word of the school.Everything worked on a set of infallible rules.They taught us to pray with "Join your hands,bow your heads,close your eyes and pray...".Catholic students had special intensive training.We were to gather, regularly, at the grotto every morning for the "Morning prayer".There we would say the Our Father,Hail Mary,I Believe,and the Memorare and then wind it up singing a hymn we learned in the Catechism class.In lower classes, the third hour of the day was invariably marked M.S/Catechism on our timetable.Catholic students headed to another classroom while the others read their moral science texts in our own classrooms.We had end of term exams for these subjects too.This was where they included the parent's marks.It might have been a brainwave on the part of some venerable founderess of the school,that it was necessary to have a knowledge of the child's growth in his/her domestic ground.
Parents were required to mark out of 5,their wards scores in"Obedience",Respect for Elders",Improvement in Studies",and "Rendering help at home".
These marks were to be written on a paper,totaled out of 20,signed by the parent and send to the class teacher.My parents were only too happy at this provision and plunged enthusiastically to testify their daughter's progress.
Even though we weren't supposed to open the envelope most of us could not resist the temptation to know our marks and compare it with that of others.The first version of the marks I got was 13/20.(Rendering help at home 2.5/5 (because I wouldn't water the plants),Obedience 3/5 (for refusing those vegetables on my plate)).I was pleased with myself and kept it ready for submission.It was a shock to find that a huge majority had 20/20 ! It seemed like I was the lone un-tameable shrew in the class.However the teacher noticed it too and announced the unsaid clause that parents are not to give full marks at any cost.I resolved to be my best around the time due for the next assessment.This time it improved by one,while the rest of the 'angels' in my class got 19 (some even 19.5).
We had this assessment till class 8 and the best score I ever got was 17/20.No amount of cajoling,reasoning or threats could
make mum put 4's for all the choices."It's for your own good",she'd say.
Now when I think about it,I still cannot hope to get 20/20,but I am sure Ive learned something more important.I imbibed the virtue of honesty from my parents.My school did succeed in it's vision but with a difference,it moulded me and my family.
"God bless our own dear convent school..."
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