“Kullu” and the Complete Story!

 

“Kullu”, “Kullu” I woke up to the sound of this word repeatedly repeated! As I hollered out whether it was morning, Hubby dear came in and asked me to lie down for another ten minutes and I obediently cuddled and burrowed into the warm blankets not noticing that the bedroom door was shut tight now! I should have known that it wasn’t a usual morning.

 It was a working day so I got up groggily and padded to the bathroom, still not noticing that the door was shut! After the cold water woke me up and I came out wiping my face, there was hubby with a nice cup of hot tea (I still hadn’t got it!) but little tentacles of suspicion were worming through my still befuddled brain especially when the door was so conscientiously being shut behind him!

I made to open it…

 “First drink the tea…”

 “I will in the other bedroom (where we normally have our morning tea)

 “Take a sip at least…” the desperation woke me up and I marched out of the room.

 Splash! Went my socks clad feet into a pool of water and I jumped electrified back into my room.

 The great deluge had filled the house- the corridors, the living room, the laundry room and the computer room were rippling with the placid water and a small scream struck in my throat!

 “The carpets???!!!”, “the computer cables?”, “Curtains…...?” I asked shrilly as I waded all over the house viewing the damage. My cup of tea was forgotten on the washing machine in the flooded laundry room.

 I saw my newbie teenager wielding the mop valiantly, trying to send the water swirling down whatever drain she could find. Husband was back on the phone with “Kullu” to the housekeeping people to stress the urgency. I bunched up my nightie and started the mopping process and decided on bread and butter for breakfast to be eaten standing in the kitchen.

 A little while later “Kullu” paid dividends and one man from housekeeping turned up armed with a mop and water pusher and started work. But the more he worked the more water came tumbling in so he wanted a tour of the house. After he saw the extent of the lake he phoned for help and one more person came in and they began the battle against the deluge.

 Meanwhile I fed the brats and send them off to school and office respectively and waited for the men to do their work.

 They were most efficient – the huge carpets were lifted and hung on the balcony railings and the water was pushed ruthlessly towards the drains and later the whole house was mopped to dry it. All the doors were open so it was freezing cold, but the wind dried the house soon. I got busy salvaging some books which we had not unpacked from the cardboard cartons and my forced spring cleaning began! I found quite a bit of material hidden in these cartons, I could use them to make kurtas, so I was sort of happy!

 Soon the men had cleaned up and left and the plumber had to come to check the pipe burst. 

 It took me ten minutes of broken English (I automatically speak in broken English to all the Arabic speaking people, God knows why!) five minutes of gesticulations (I was talking over the phone and how hand shaking would help is a mystery!) and the plumber came up to check the damage.

 The maid had turned up after all the work got over! She said that there was no hot water in any of the taps! So here I was back to explaining to the plumber that there was no hot water by showing him the kitchen tap and he was ready to open the tap, when I went “Kullu” “Kullu” to tell him there was no hot water anywhere and the maid filled in my blanks, did he realize that the problem was a shut valve outside the house!

 Soon everyone understood everything and the house except for the carpets was back to normal. A call came asking us to remove the carpets from the railings and it took another painful set of communication to explain that “Kullu” carpet was wet, and we cannot move it till it dries out!

 The maid insisted on mopping the “Kullu” house with Dettol!

Peace reigned and “Kullu” saved the day. (By the way “Kullu” means full; entire; complete or anything similar!)

 

 

Spring clean in Autumn

The autumn colours are not very evident near my house. The trees are still green; the sea is aquamarine and the sky is a clear cloudless blue, not very different from other days. There is definitely a nip in the air and the cold sometimes bites into you making you shiver and your eyes water.

I have been looking through all my files and folder; very busy, deleting, organizing and renaming all documents. I have felt bad deleting my old, loved games and felt good in case of all the duplicates that I have and the millions of temporary files and folders that lie around languishing in hidden corners of my virtual world! 

I have given a nice scrub and shine to my keys and screen so that they look almost new (Though the keys have become quite worn out and so cannot disguise their age!) The tiny dust particles wedged between the keys refuse to come out like an overdue baby. I think I need to get a vacuum cleaner for this. I still have to do all this to my external hard drive. It is half and half – half of it is beautiful, spic and span and other half is a dumping ground! I have been piling things recklessly into it. If it was a cupboard, the moment I touched the door the whole lot would come tumbling out!

My virtual world in the last few years has taken precedence over my real world. Earlier, come September, I would get busy cleaning one drawer after another, one cupboard after another and one shelf after another; throwing stuff, cleaning bottles, wiping shelves, putting newspaper wherever required and airing my clothes in the sun. I remember it used to be quite a marathon when everyone- husband, kids and maid would be involved. I remember the arguments over throwing stuff out and the " "humphs" and sulks that would ensue out of this exercise.

“Hey here’s the book I had been looking for!”

“My mermaid Barbie has been lying here all the time!”

 “You purposely hid this T-shirt here so I couldn’t wear it”

All these followed by

“I am giving all these books and papers to the raddiwala”

“All the toys are going to the orphanage”

"That T-shirt is going to be my new duster”

After much argument and wrangling I would be successful in selling half of the books and papers. All the toys would be bathed and laid out neatly before they would be repacked and kept in the loft. But the T- shirts were always my successes; I nearly always managed to turn them into dusters. For this I have to thank my maids (They were always loyal to me!)

Now away from home I have less of throwaways, one child has left home and the other is so anti organizing that I do not touch her stuff till a threat of epidemic comes on top of me. Husband has become older and wiser; he lets me do what I want so there is no spate of real cleaning in my real world!

Old habits die hard! So here I am doing the same thing in my virtual world. This world is more pliable as there is no one to argue (except the teenager who shares a part of this!); anyway I never ask, I just ruthlessly devour! This world is unfortunately boring; what is the fun in doing something without any obstacles? Anyway my very orderly and disciplined mind gets pleasure in sorting out stuff and then paring, cutting, trimming and cleaning everything.

Here I have a different set of objections

 “Don’t delete my pictures”

“Delete all the useless stuff”

“Don’t delete my music”

“Why don’t you do them yourself?”

“Nah! Leave them! They aren’t hurting you anyway. I will look at them when I have time”

 

When there is a question of virtual connected with the real, no one has the time and nothing is useless!

So as usual I take the blame and weed out everything as ruthlessly as possible. Virtually everything is getting cleaner; still a lot to be done though.

It would be good idea if we could take the trash out our minds and spring clean it to its pristine cleanliness. There are thousands of memories I would love to delete and thousands I would rename and put in new folders and lots that I would copy and paste in the right half of my brain from my left half.

In brief it’s time to spring clean in autumn! 

 

Doubting Doubts and Roaring Roots

My potato has grown up now; has settled down; produced off-springs and is seemingly happy!

On another windy cold day, I was surprised to see my potato sprouting green leaves and it hollered to me, so I went slowly (I am having a bad knee these days) towards it and cocked my head enquiringly.

“You know, I forgot to thank you for letting me take root here; amongst all these big plants; no one notices me and my family, so we are safe”

“You are welcome”, I said and waited.

“Now that I have done what I wanted to do and I know that I am safe and happy here, and I am almost a grandfather, I am restless.” He said a shade darkly.

“Well...” I didn’t know how to respond.

“It is said that when you save a person’s life you are responsible for it”, Potato said, “do something to help me now”, he continued on an insistent note.
“First thing is you are not a person”, I argued, “Second thing is, there are millions of beings searching for their roots to garner peace and contentment and here you are with both these things given on a platter and you want to Move!”

“Bah! Roots!” he almost spat furiously, “They are nothing but chains that bind you within an imaginary wall. All this talk about blossoming when you find your roots is all humbug”

“Now! Now! That’s not the right attitude to take”, I said soothingly

“Finding roots is like killing yourself”, he continued, ignoring me. “Do you know that roots actually bind you to a place; limit you to certain parameters and actually kill your creativity and desire?”

 

“Whoa! Those are big words, think before you speak!” I said a trifle annoyed

The breeze was turning into a huge cloud of wind and I pulled the hood of my windcheater up and made as if to go inside.

“Don’t get me wrong”, Mr. Potato continued, “It’s not that I am not grateful for all you have done for me it’s just that I am in a doubting mood and I doubt everyone, even myself!”

I know where my roots are, but I feel, I have unconsciously negated it and tried to be as different from it as possible. I have never let down roots either; I have always been as restless as my friend and have never stayed long enough in a place to grow in! That does not mean that I have not grown or have had a stunted growth. There have been many a time that I have felt superior- that I know so much more than my local friends because I have shifted so many times. But there have been many a time when I have envied the settled aura around these people which I have never had.

 

Mr. Potato was not going to let me go, he was in a talking mood. “Yesterday I was contemplating the ‘ifs and buts’ of you not having rescued me”

“What did you conclude?” I asked

“You know I would have been kicked around a bit and then rotted and died, I suppose”

“Well Then? “I said triumphantly

“But it would have been exciting....” he mused, “who knows something exciting could have happened?”

“Yeah! Maybe Angelina Jolie would have picked you up and kissed you and you would have turned into a handsome young prince and she would have left Brad Pitt and been at your beck and call”, I said sarcastically

 

“Why not? It could have happened, why the doubt in your mind? The more I think the more I am sure it would have happened! “His eyes were shining in anticipation of his fantasy coming true!

I was so disgusted that I was ready to kick him! “What about, if I dig you out and throw you on the tiles here? “I said diabolically

The clever imp said, “That’s the problem, you can’t do that now”
“Why not? “I asked mulishly

“Now so many lives are dependent on me, it would be selfish to leave them and go chasing my dreams” he said smugly

“Escapist! “I muttered under my breath

“What’s that? What’s that? “Potato lisped loudly

“Nothing” I said, “Leave it...”

 

The sun had set; the city lights were all up and shining; the wind was furiously biting into me, both physically and mentally. I wished my erstwhile friend a subdued good night and walked back home.

 

Mind and heart were furiously at each other, hammer and tong! Each blaming the other; Roots versus movement; doubts versus surety; excitement versus safety; I realised I was a climber; I needed no roots; I needed strong walls or trees to support me as I climb over my dreams and mountains and reach for the sky.

 

 

Forming a Bridge between Reality and Expectations

The background was blue. Blue sky; blue moon; blue stars and even the grass was blue! I walked up steadily trying to reach the cliff. I took in the faint whiff of moist earth and sodden grass and reached the jutting cliff. I looked down at the backwaters between the chasm and felt a little dizzy and then looked up at the opposite side to another cliff jutting out. There was an intense desire to jump and cross the chasm and reach the other side. The brightness and glitter put out beckoning hands and I jumped.... I woke up with a jump too! Feeling terribly frustrated, for I didn’t know whether I fell or crossed the chasm successfully!

 

As individuals we have our own desires and expectations and to add to this is the expectations of others. As a race we human do try to be honest. But we do have a strain of dishonesty which makes us put on masks. We are never truly honest even with ourselves and so these expectations are half formed blurry images which we shy away from focusing on. So what... then what?

 

Most great persons are of two kinds, either they are totally insular, they live in their own world and live life setting benchmarks and expecting people to kowtow to their laws and rules or they are totally social, they live in a world of other people where they carve and scrimp and adjust with the others, thinking of others and doing things for others. I am no great person, most of us are a bit of both, we have our own personal desires and expectations, we inhabit both kind of worlds and we get along falling and rising.

 

This is all great as long as all the issues and problems involve us personally but what happens when it involves someone else? My desire cannot be fulfilled, if someone else does not walk in tandem with me; then what do I do? DO I push the other person; kick him; prod him or show by example, and what happens when none of these work? Do I take the uncomplicated way out and wallow in deep depression or be brave and ignore that something like that was never on my bulletin board, or be a coward and ‘mask’ my emotions?

 

I have too many open-ended questions to satisfy even my own mediocre psyche, so I dare not venture into other people’s domains! The horse was obviously thirsty, so the rider took him to the pond, but the horse refused to drink from it. The horse expected to be taken to a waterfall or to source of running water not to a stagnant pond hence he refused to drink! The rider of course thought that he had done a fantastic job in realizing the horse’s need and taking him to the water source but was met with an ungrateful horse. Thus there was a chasm between the reality and expectation! Left to him the horse may have found what he desired but his owner was leading him with the bridle, and he did not have the freedom to express his emotions.

 

The advantage that we have over the horse is that we can express ourselves but unlike the horse we live in a polite society and not only are we not honest, but we also put on masks, blindfold others, and repeat statements like “All is well” to spread pseudo-happiness in the entire world.

 

There must have been many a time when we have fallen short of our expectations. Then why the big deal when someone else falls short? I will tell you why, it’s because you can play the blame game very easily but it’s very difficult to blame yourself, you see! 

 

The whole solution to this lies in lunging over the chasm in a comfortable manner. One answer could be, “do not have any expectations” (Not sure if this is possible!), another could be, “do not have any from others” (Very difficult) still another is “keep the expectations within limits” (don’t ask for the moon when you can be happy with the torch light!)

 

The human heart is very troublesome- it is illogical, impractical, and impassable. It is argumentative, augmentative, and allegorical, unlike the mind. We thus have the eternal fight between the mind and the heart and “God save the heart” from the ruthless mind but it’s time we buried the heart between the two cliffs of reality and expectation and make it the bridge to happiness...