tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81321526008427614712024-03-13T03:54:11.948-07:00Moonlight DrivePurely Narcotichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10523314627083799301noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132152600842761471.post-44402675960526355452007-06-25T05:36:00.000-07:002007-06-25T05:40:03.951-07:00And then there were none...Muthaka. That's what I called her for the seventeen years I have known her. The old, limping, obnoxious milk delivery lady who always came by at 3 in the afternoon and screamed out 'Haal.' Whenever I was at the grandparent's on a holiday, I would go running before Grandmom could reach the gate only to get admonished by Muthaka.<br /><br />'Nachige ilva ninge.' <Don't you have any shame?><br /><br />'Yaake?' <why?><br /><br />'Chadi haaki yaake horage bartiya?'<Why do you wear shorts and come out?><br /><br />'Nimge yenu. Nimge nachige idre neev bai muchu hogi> <What's your business? If you are even a bit apologetic, shut your mouth and leave><br /><br />That's always how it was. My shorts and her anger.<br /><br />If I were collecting milk from her during the rains, she would also add a 'Mela hoga. Beel beda' (Go slowly, don't fall) as she walked away and continued muttering to herself. Grumbling, always grumbling.<br /><br />When I was much much younger, I thought she always mumbled something evil to me and told Grandad as much. He would just laugh and tell me to ask her myself why she mumbled those evil thoughts.<br /><br />Even as I went from becoming a chubby kid to the gawky teenager to the kurta-clad, heels swinging college student, I would still wear shorts at home and would still run to collect the milk. And yes, get admonished by Muthaka. But in my kurta-clad, heels swinging phase I saw less and lesser of her. Till yesterday. <br /><br />I was walking around in the backyard as usual. And I heard the familiar 'Haal' ringing out loudly in the garden and the clinking of the wrought iron gates.<br /><br />I ran. 'Grandma, I'll get the milk.' I yelled out.<br /><br />'Thank you' I called out after her as she handed me the two packets of milk and limped away. <br /><br />'Ivatu yena chadi haklila?' Why haven't you worn shorts today she smiled back<br /><br />'nange gothirlila neev bartiri antheli' I didn't know you'd be coming and I walked back to watch Grandmom brew tea.<br /><br /><br />As I sat watching 'Once upon a time in Mexico' Grandmom walked in and casually said, No milk today so if you have to make coffee at night, use the milk powder.<br /><br />Muthaka passed away in her sleep last night .Purely Narcotichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10523314627083799301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132152600842761471.post-68240577099040931842007-06-18T01:25:00.000-07:002007-06-18T01:39:21.706-07:00A sunset away...<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1gH_2WXSC4Q/RnZC0_ACKYI/AAAAAAAABDo/Lz5Xsg2Uri0/s1600-h/497648495_25bdeceafa_b.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1gH_2WXSC4Q/RnZC0_ACKYI/AAAAAAAABDo/Lz5Xsg2Uri0/s320/497648495_25bdeceafa_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077319107939019138" /></a><br /><br /><br />One of my most favourite pictures of Sunset. <br />FibonacciBoy and I rode up to Agumbe and we stopped near hairpin bend 14 to capture the sight that lay before us.Purely Narcotichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10523314627083799301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132152600842761471.post-69439423435920040272007-06-16T02:50:00.000-07:002007-06-16T03:19:31.430-07:00Let's swim to the moon...It's dark, it's cloudy. It's raining torrents and I sit cocooned in my shelter watching the leaves shrug the water off their waxy selves. I stay inside and watch my world lying in a hazy mist. I can see it spinning, just the way the world was meant to be. But it halts jerkingly sometimes, shudders as if suddenly overwhelmed by the burden it carries around. <br /><br />But it's a ride alright. A Moonlight ride.Purely Narcotichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10523314627083799301noreply@blogger.com2