Why is it So hard to change?
K celebrated his birthday recently. Hmm..wasn't much of a celebration, it was a week day and we both were getting ready early - him for his official trip and me to school. We had a quick moment when I dropped him at the airport and drove off to my school. The usual jazz station music did not seem interesting, maybe I wasn't in the mood, so the car was quiet. K's sister had recently visited us for a week and we had a good time together, so this newfound silence alerted me to think something and occupy my mind with something other than the noise from the fellow cars in the freeway. It was a fine morning and the view was quite good. Suddenly I realized it was going to be five years since we got married! Which made me realize we, especially I, haven't changed much in the duration. Sure we have changed our houses, works and the neighborhood, we have been visiting different places but I am talking about the person I am inside. I still feel like the young girl who came here after marriage, looked around and thought I am going to adapt and contribute something to this new world of mine while retaining my original srivilliputtur self. I feel like I have not adapted at all. I still yearn for the fresh, known faces that smile and greet while I put kolam in front of our house. I still yearn for the fresh breath of tropical air from the coconut, naarthangai and lemon trees with the unparalleled view of Srivilliputtur gopuram(temple tower) in the background. I still yearn for the sight of my dad coming home from the temple with the freshly offered milk to God in his hand and my mom wearing a madisar, offering me the most aromatic coffee in the world with her mookkuthi glittering like a shiny star reflecting the soothing morning light. Most of all, I still yearn for the sight of my paati (paternal grandmother) sitting in the marakkattil (wooden cot) or the oonjal (wooden swing) in the front room with the coffee tumbler in her hand and the prabhantham book/ hindu paper on her side. I still yearn for the arrival of my thaatha (maternal grandfather) with the vellaiappam and kesari (snack and sweet) sitting in the oonjal waiting for me to come from school. The list goes on and on......Then I wonder will my children ever be able to enjoy, observe and appreciate these things as I did. Or the least will they able to understand what these meant to me or they will be consumed with the convenient flashy modern life this country is offering and brush off the things I hold close to my heart. K says most of us have filtered memories. Something catches my attention. Construction going on ahead. Hmm..I have to take a detour through another freeway. Maybe I will be better off sticking with the nearby exit and the surface road. It will take another 10-15 minutes. Gotta go early and finish up my homework....
