Saturday, February 21, 2009

Writing Prompt # 4

Rules: Take 10 minutes to write. Please time yourself. When you have finished writing, please leave a link to your response in the comments box. Have fun!

Prompt: Write about an ordinary, everyday event in your family's life. It could be something that your mother or father did every day - ironing clothes, cutting vegetables, doing puja. Or something one of your siblings did - washing the moped or scooter, perhaps. May be even something that all of you did together regularly.



Talk about regularity or routine and the first person to come to my mind is my Appachhan- my grandfather. He was the kind of person that we might describe as one could set the time by .

He was up at dawn, with the Khaddar mundu tied around his chest and no dentures. He would gaze at the pictures above his bed – that of Lord Dhanwanthari and his Guru. Then followed morning ablutions.

He would emerge after bath with the fragrance of sandalwood lingering in the air. The flowers would have been picked and arranged ( by ammamma or me during the holidays) in the ‘thaalam’ ( plate ) to be taken to the temple. After putting on the cumbersome 'methiyadi’ ( wooden sandals) he would march to the temple. On his return, he would go into the puja room, sit on the wooden platform (aavani palaka ) and chant shlokas aloud in his resounding baritone . Next it was breakfast time, after which followed a kind of ‘Durbar’ session with his friends in the adjoining hall. All kinds of topics- current issues, Sports, Arts, Politics everything would be discussed and there would be laughter too. I hardly understood what was going on but the memories and the ambience lingers with utmost clarity.

He would then change into his Khaddar shirt which kind of reached his knees. It was now time to go to the Nursing Home.

Evenings would see him writing his diary meticulously and neatly. There have been times when others have retrieved records after referring to his diary. His ‘Dinacharya’ was on clockwork mode and we told the time by the sound of his footsteps.

However, there was one thing that did not quite work for him by clockwork- and that was his lunch time. Consultation with his patients made him lose track of time and ammamma would send rice gruel/ soup or Horlicks through the hands of the house help.

More about my Appachhan :

Fragrant Memories

Death- Ultimate Reality

and one by my cousin sister in Malayalam

ഞങ്ങളുടെ അപ്പഛൻ


2 comments:

Sujatha said...

Awww, what a lovely memory, Ardra! Thank you for picking this story to write. What a disciplined life!

P.R said...

അപ്പച്ചനെ ഒന്നുംകൂടി വായിയ്ക്കാന്‍ കിട്ടിയതില്‍ സന്തോഷം. :)