St.Antony , a Story ( Part -II)

                               The Wedding day pic Aug 23

When did I first step into a church? Well memory is very clear here, it was into a Chapel many, many years ago in the convent school run by Carmelite nuns, where I studied in the primary classes. The Chapel is a magnificent Victorian era structure. Though access into the precincts was not free, there were occasions we could be in. It was often that we peeped in through the windows and be amazed by the quietness inside.

Honestly even if there was students from families of various faiths, no separation and difference was felt.  We sang the morning thanks giving song in the assembly with  exuberance and excitement. “Father we thank thee for the night, and for the pleasant morning light…...” We had a parting song in the evening. “Jesus tender shepherd here me….  .”  It was exciting!

I believe, those formative days had immense bearing on me from a tolerant and all inclusive point of view of creation and cosmology. I did not find a necessary distinction based on faith. That I turned out to be an irreligious person in later years may be perhaps a matter of little conjecture, but more of reasons not wasteful.

So it was not an astonishing shock for me that I chose to be confidently around in a church with the woman I fancied marrying. And, I could empathise with her feelings when she expressed the desire while travelling pillion on my bike to pray for a while at the St Antony’s church en route to home one day after a wedding.

However there was no formal proposal to her, going down on my knees yet. Neither did modesty let her. But something told me within as it did to her that we got to live together.

However with two of my close chums (Balan & Sree) rebuking me for what they asserted (and rightly so) as my unparalleled foolishness, I decided to ask her and without delay if I can have her hand. It certainly could be a betise if I walked about on the presumption that she would want to wed me. The whole world almost knew that I wanted to marry a catholic lass- my family, friends and her folks. And quixotically, except the woman that mattered ,the woman concerned!

It was perhaps the longest journey of my life-a journey on a sultry March afternoon, from Cochin to the distant town in Tamilnad some two hundred fifty kilometers away. The dusty town that it is and was then was not relenting at night too. It was quite warm. I checked into a hotel and spent another longest period ever –the longest night! The following morning I would be going to her house (where she lived with one of her sisters). It was then, rolling about in bed that I wondered what if I had been prejudiced about her decision. Presumptions can be awakening painful and panicky too.

March 20- and the Sun took a long while to come up in the east and go further up in the sky. Perhaps the whole world was conspiringly going slow.

Audaciously, I began the chat with her on the assumption that she has accepted to marry me. I did not while sitting across in the chair alone with her in the room, think it was necessary ask her if she would marry me. I assumed that we had decided to be married and began the discussion on our life after wedlock. The little nitty gritty matters that can come up manifested, or be foisted up by the ones around, more because we were from families of two different back ground and faith and many other things I do not recollect what and what not.. Did we chat for an hour? I guess so.

I was to take the night train back and in the evening we found a convenient excuse of walking to the church being a Sunday (I have not seen since, that keenness ever in her to go to church ha!!) We took a long slow, casual, walk. And wished the road was longer!

By then it was intense and clear that the physical law of Nature had played its role. We were attracted because of the forces of gravitation and honestly!!!

"Oh Lord Forgive Me for I'm Cynical"

I vehemently deny that I was born a cynic and a pessimist, I became one.

 This is what I would tell in face of the alleged cynical tone in me, be it verbal or in letters. I checked the definition of the word “cynic” and found the following decorative pieces.

A) Believing the worst of human nature and motives; having a sneering disbelief in e.g. selflessness of others.

B) Abusing vocally; expressing contempt or ridicule.

C) Showing contempt for accepted moral standards, esp. by following self-interest.

But I do not fit in these descriptions with much gusto, though I do not deny the definitions that may be in me, but it is more relative.

The reason for the ornamental pseudonym that I may have, “cynic”, is more because of what I see as an uncontrollable offensive attitude of what for example is sinister, deprecating, torn away from even semblance of altruism and abusive. I find it comforting, release of pent up energy to react sternly vocally or by letters to a situation when it demands, rather than be timid and peeved and then boil inconsolably within oneself. It is better to be sheared away from any possible loss of self-respect.

There have been a few blog posts that went purportedly directing my ire at persons and happenings that were less tolerable even to a serf who would love to crawl when asked to kneel. Certainly the spars between friends are not to be for love of God included in these.

A few months ago, some savvy fraudsters managed to hack into my Google mail account, presumably fancying me for someone worth a shot at. The invisible forces set off a chain of email to all my contacts in Google. The  email went had the subject matter of my perilous state in Greece and that I was urgently in need of money to bail myself out of some hole. Many of the contacts smelled rat and pooh-poohed the message. The slightly sceptical ones made sure to contact C, to ensure that everything was smooth and the message was hoax. It was apparent to even a nitwit that the email message was not from me.

A naïve but unfortunate person whom I have never met, but only spoken on the phone, shot off by Bank transfer some $ 750 to the fictitious address .I came to know of this a month later and he was rather ashamed of his impetuosity. Nevertheless, I feel an affinity towards him for the apprehension that made him act so when he got the hoax message.

Last week my sister called from Thpuram and narrated an atrocious grapevine that came to her hearing that day. The matter was circulating in her Banking circles for these months before a colleague decide enough was enough and told her.

I understood her annoyance but also was displeased and offended by the matter and shot off an email message to the villain of the piece. And decoying copies to some of my contacts too. It certainly was a message that was matter of fact and alluding how contemptuous I hold him in esteem for his apparent pernicious canard and nonsensical act.

When the fraudulent email message went about in December, it went to this person who is holed up with his riches in Saudi Arabia. He was holding a fat account in the Bank branch where my Sis was in charge. Once, after a reference from my Sis, I  spoke to him on a matter of emplacement and did communicate once to him by email. The subject was forgotten since. Now when the email went to him also in December, instead of displaying the decorum to call the Bank branch in India and enquire with my Sis about the email, he went about telling some other branch managers that the lady manager’s brother whom he has not met asked him for money. The gossip loving colleagues of her went about spreading the slimy gossip, know not how far. It finally reached her ears the previous week. To further the agony the guy with drew some Rs 100 million from her branch and ably aided in the whole process and gossip by one of her colleagues she trusted much.

Now one can choose and ignore the situation or be cynical in this context relatively.

The situations that I allegedly become cynical are similar in content. If one can have the luxury to be stoic, why not express oneself and be cynical and relieved too?

Jack & The Bean Stalk

                                       An old photograph

The mother is furious at the boy that he is sent to bed without supper. The blunder he did was to give away the only possession they had, the cow, she entrusted with him to sell in the market and he did literally for nuts. He bartered the cow to a man who offered what he claimed to be magical bean seeds. The seed grew overnight into a huge stalk that went up to the skies and  little Jack went up the bean stalk to the Ogre’s castle, befriended the young woman who was a prisoner there and he finally enriched himself with the booty the Ogre had. And all that is all fascinating for a fairy tale. And Jack’s mother was absolutely within her rights and duties as mother to reprimand him severely for the infringement. But what if mother refuses to advise, suggest, discuss let alone gentle nudge when it need be?

I have an issue going off and on with C. And I feel she refuses to see my side of the argument and steadfastly opines that the children are grown up and she need not be asking them to do things; she should not be acting like a catalyst or correcting them. The trouble is that she has her heart ruling her words and reactions than the brain locked inside her head. This has been more than often a rusted piece of nail that pricks me.

She may read this post as she sometimes ventures into my Blog!

I’m not expressing the lack of confidence in the children per se. They are in their own ways individualistic and have formed determined and strong opinions.  A is twenty one and R eighteen. But as Balan mentioned in his recent post on parent’s anxiety and Oushu in his Blog about his mother’s apprehensions- apparent it is and not an enviable position when you are  concerned about your children’s future, however well they may be marching ahead. It is not anymore in the day’s world that, epiphany like with little Jack that will lift you up in life. It has to be perseverance, hard work and most of all smart work. If it is only hard work one may live the life of an ass.

A has taken of his own very volition a medium that probably will be “the” talk and the thing of the present and the future. Something that depression and inflation, the economic synonyms will not bother much-“visual media and entertainment”. As luck has paid back, we (I & C) have not thus far bothered much about the academic brilliance or performance of both the kids. And thus far they have done fairly well. Fortunately they did not want to be stereo types( doctors and techies) and we loved that decision more than any.

But I get apprehensive often as A is in my opinion though not certainly agoraphobic is not entertaining my suggestion to be more advertising. And it is necessary more because the field that he has chosen is not easily amenable and one has to be heard and seen. But C seldom tells him or discusses advisory matters with him. She tells that he is grown up. This irritates me all over. I do not feel that he is still letting himself submerge in it.

She expresses unquestionable confidence in the children and silences me by asserting that they are conscious of matters and will certainly do what is required to further their selves.

It is not always that all mothers and parents have such optimism. But to me it takes more to be convinced and I have to see the ground proof, the result and the sum of the matter. I get distressed when I think of the missed opportunities that I let go begging. The matters I was not expressive about and timid when I had to be assertive. It is the desire to ensure history should not repeat in certain ways.

When I was little I was fancied with Jack’s scrambling up the bean stalk and the good things he brought down from the Ogres abode for his mother. As a boy it is easy to fantasise and imagine such manna falling on you. But with half a century of life behind, there is anxiety and reality that has to be dealt with. The world is tough today than it was a few decades ago. And is cruel and unrelenting too.