Just My Musings

A slow reminiscent smile steals over my face as I walk briskly along the platform, lugging my suitcase. My mind is flooded with memories of the days when the station was still called Madras Central. The memories are so vivid, I can almost smell the tamarind rice my mother used to hand over to me while I sat cross-legged in the window seat with a book on my lap. I marvel at the superpowers with which our  mothers and aunts managed to pack and push around a miniature canteen, complete with all the paraphernalia, no matter how short or long the journey. We seem to have always travelled without ever relying on the expectation of any external provision of amenities and to have roamed about like tortoises with our own self-sufficient little habitat strapped right on to our backs. And oh, the food! Lemon rice, chapatis with tomato thokku , idlies with generous coats of molagai podi seeping through their pores - dishes that lasted long and tasted better with time. They were always accom...

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an Austenite who has lost count of the number of rereads, must be in want of an alternative source of comfort. I write 'comfort', as that is the foremost sentiment, the most prominent and defining feeling I experience while reading her novels. Anyone with an affinity for the classics would vouchsafe his or her love for a hundred different works. But when it comes to the question of the particular set of books to which you instinctively and compulsively reach out while facing adversities, Austen staples have always been my go-to comfort reads. This is also precisely the reason for the  disapprobatory glance I steal at anyone who brushes the likes of Pride and Prejudice or Sense and Sensibility aside by categorising them as mere commonplace stories of romance.  In order to truly and fully appreciate an Austen novel, you need to be able to constantly read between the lines, as, in my opinion, subtlety is what governs her writing. Th...

To read or not to read - that can never be the question. The habit of reading regularly IS vital. Which is why I think we should never give children the idea that reading is nothing but another hobby. It is not like collecting stamps or playing chess, for us to have the option of not pursuing it if we are not interested. It is like brushing our teeth - we simply cannot be allowed a choice.  I observe many parents wondering how to get their kids to spend more time reading books. So much so that the complaint " my kid throws away the book in five minutes, nothing but the smartphone or the TV can engage his or her attention " has become as common as " my child does not like vegetables " used to be.  To all parents with similar worries on their minds, this page offers a list of suggestions that you could try. But before we get into that, I would like to state that I claim no expertise, but only experience, in this area. I am merely sharing some tips that I have followed...

Yes, you read that right. Vowels are now  They-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named . Or so I am given to understand, by most of the text messages I receive. No matter what age group the sender belongs to, nobody seems to be using vowels anymore.  I can understand why people who are totally preoccupied with their online identity do this. They simply have got no time to waste on typing vowels. They have at least ten social media accounts to maintain simultaneously. Posts of their own to edit and upload, that of others to check, follow, like and 'heart'; several selfies to edit, 'filter', touch up and enhance to an extent that would shock somebody who meets them in person for the first time as they would look nothing like their picture; many comments to write and numerous things to scrutinize and find politically incorrect.  If they start focusing on proper spelling, they might not be left with any time to spare on other trivia like sleep, a disciplined routine or, God forbid, a few mom...

  1980s Our family vacation draws to a close . We have four hours left to catch the train back home. We decide to wait in a park.  There is a woman selling tender coconuts outside the gates. As I play with my cousins on the slide, we are joined by her kids. Merry, energetic and giddy with  boisterous mirth, they make terrific playmates.  My mother and aunt lay out  the packed lunch in a shaded spot and summon us to eat.  As we race to the makeshift picnic table, our playmates join us. The ladies hand us the loaded paper plates to be passed around, automatically giving us a few extra , which we spontaneously offer to our new-found friends. Their eyes light up. I joke and laugh with them over a delicious meal, unconsciously forming an indelible memory of a simple but profoundly delightful experience. 2020s We are a group of neighbours strolling around a park, as our children run about and play. As we sit down for a rest, our kids take a break and come running...