Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Reason number 324 why I am grateful for my small town existence

I have lived in a small town for two thirds of my life. I confess, my town has just one traffic signal which was inaugurated with much pomp. And yes when I first came to Madras as a child I thought the Anna fly over was like the coolest thing ever. This has often been a source of amusement for my city bred friends. (yes yes you know who you are)

But I wont complain much staying in the middle of the spectrum between the urban life and rustic village life isn't too bad. Last week actually gave me a chance to thank my stars for my small town roots. We had to attend my driver's daughter's engagement at a nearby village. So off we went on a hot Sunday afternoon.

Once the groom side arrived, all the men of both families sat around in a circle with a basket of salt in the center. While the entire village stood in the sidelines. I was truly fascinated by now. The "nattamai" (village head) then announced that they could start. I thought this was where the engagement ceremony begins. But no I was wrong, here was apparently the most important part of the day. The proceedings started with a random lady from the crowd shouting "so how much dowry are you giving your daughter?".Apparently directed at the bride's father. Random aunt's friend added" speak loudly we all want to hear". My fascination gave way to horror when I realized, the brides side was expected to answer in detail to all the questions thrown at them. My poor driver answered patiently on how much gold and cash he was going to give.

Finally a lady from the groom's side stood up (Who in my humble opinion should audition for Ekta kapoor's monster mom in law teledramas) She thundered "what only so much? this is disrespectful" . The bride's side squirmed and continued their negotiation. Eventually they came to a consensus that they would give the groom a gazillion grams gold chain. Ladies, how many of you out there would marry a man who not only demands but also wears something like that?OK we digress. As ridiculous as it looked, I really felt bad for bride's family.

Thankfully the negotiation drew to a close and the rest of the ceremony went on less melodramatically. As we drove back, I realized how clean the entire village was and how much relatively cooler it was. Mainly thanks to the rows of Neem trees. But still I am grateful for my small town existence. Thank you.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

The man in the arena

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Theodore Roosevelt