The Little Things That Stay With Us

After a very long time, I enjoyed two movies - Chinna Chinna Aasai and Tourist Family -and ended up bawling but also incredibly moved.

Two very different films. Different stories. Different genres. Yet, somehow, they left me with the same thought:

Be kind. You never know what someone is struggling through.

Sometimes, kindness is just being there.

Something as simple as asking, “Did you eat today?” can mean so much.

Sometimes, you don't need to know someone for very long to help them. You just help because that is the kind of person you want to be.

And sometimes, kindness is simply listening.

That stayed with me in Chinna Chinna Aasai. You don't always need to give advice. You don't need to have answers. Sometimes, someone just needs to be heard.

I felt the same in Tourist Family. The way one person offered to listen if the other ever wanted to talk felt so genuine.

No pressure.

No judgement.

Just, “I'm here if you need me.”

There is so much comfort in knowing that you have a safe space to return to.

Life is allowed to be messy!

I also loved how both films captured the unpredictability of human emotions.

One moment, you're crying. The next, someone does something funny and you're laughing.

And that felt so real.

That's how life is. Happiness and sadness don't always wait their turn. Sometimes they coexist.

That emotional shift in Tourist Family really moved me. The same film could make me bawl in one scene and laugh in the next.

It didn't feel forced.

It felt human.

Chinna Chinna Aasai touched me in another way. It reminded me that no matter how old we become, there is still a little human inside us who has dreams.

We grow up. We become practical. We take on responsibilities. And somewhere along the way, we sometimes stop listening to that little voice that still wants to dream.

Maybe we shouldn't.

Tourist Family also made me think about how much of our lives is shaped by the choices we make.

If we want bigger dreams and a better life, sometimes we have to find the courage to step out of what we know.

It isn't easy. Struggles are real. Circumstances are real.

But sometimes, that first step is everything.

And perhaps that's where these two films met for me.

They reminded me that we are all more connected than we think.

Irrespective of language, the sky above us is the same. We all live in this one world. We all experience loneliness, hope, fear, love and grief.

We may never know the full story of the person standing in front of us.

So, maybe, be kind.

Maybe ask someone if they've eaten.

Maybe listen.

Maybe help without expecting anything back.

Because perhaps kindness always comes full circle.

You never know - something that felt like a small gesture to you might have been the thing that helped someone get through their day.

Maybe kindness begins with ourselves!

Maybe you don't have to be first!

I came across a reel recently where the first thing the person said was, “I wanted to post here before someone else did.”

She had discovered that a currently trending song sounded remarkably similar to an old, underrated one. A fun observation. Something that could simply become a conversation.

But I got stuck on that first sentence.

“I wanted to post here before someone else did.”

I kept thinking about it for the next 24 hours.

When did it become so important to be the first person to say something? The first to notice it, share it, have the thought, make the connection?

I understand why originality matters. There is a real difference between being inspired by someone's work and simply taking it. Artists deserve credit, and plagiarism isn't okay.

But what about the space in between?

What if two people independently have the same thought? What if something you noticed today is something someone else noticed yesterday? Does that make your observation any less meaningful?

I don't think it has to.

Maybe the internet has made us see everything through the lens of content. A thought becomes a post. A hobby becomes a page. A discovery becomes something you need to share before someone else does. Even the things we enjoy can start feeling like they need to be productive, visible, or monetizable.

And that's what stayed with me.

Not everything has to be claimed. Not every thought has to become content.

We can create, share and still leave room for other people to arrive at the same idea.

There is room for originality and coincidence. For credit and conversation.

Maybe sometimes we don't have to be first. Maybe it's enough that something moved us enough to make us want to share it.

Sheets of wisdom in shreds...

Not so long ago, ok..how long is long? Tricky question right?

Anyways,when I was a kid I remember eagerly waiting for a Sunday just so I could get a hold of 'Young World' (obviously after fighting for it because we lived in a joint family and all of us were eager to get a hold of it, by all I mean even the elders.ok let's get to it..) to solve the 'Jumbled Words'. The satisfaction of solving it,oh I tell you it was amazing. Also I somehow always admired and envied the kids who used to send out their lovely drawings and paintings to be published in the newspaper. I couldn't even colour inside boxes properly.

Gradually over the years it was about reading small paragraphs in newspapers to improve vocabulary but sneakily we would end up cross checking if the timing of the broadcast of programmes on tv channels have changed because we wouldn't want to miss out on any episode of our favourite cartoons and have major fomo at school the next day. We wouldn't dare to. Oh, how the times have changed now,you just have to swipe up and down and you will get to know what show comes up and when even a day in advance. The element of surprise died with the 90's.

Ok,I am out of track as always.

Ah,newspapers! Are you someone who has never tried to solve a sudoku? Yes? I have no time for you! Kidding. Solving sudoku,no in fact learning how to solve sudoku was by itself an amazing experience. Having solved them,waiting for the next day to see if your answers were right were a nightmare. A sweet nightmare. This was a phase, grabbing the newspaper just to solve sudoku. It was always at the last page or somewhere tucked between some sports news and as always these headlines were catchy and it's never easy to miss. The sports headlines. Obviously related to cricket. I mean, come on that was an easy guess right?!

Learning was fun back then, to someone who had no idea about any sport but landing on the sports page in the intention of solving sudoku, but in turn getting to read and have some understanding about different sport was a blessing in disguise. Missing all the pages and diving directly into the sports page was a phase.

Obituary, we came to know about the death of a very old milk maid through the newspaper and I was shocked to learn that they put up these details on the newspaper. The curiosity grew to know if all dear ones were doing ok but the anxiety overpowered it every time I opened up this page. Slowly I started skipping it out of my routine because it was getting to me.

Before the sports page, short articles get published and I fancied them for a while. I still love short articles unlike this long neverending write up.

Ok don't stop do read on.

My happiest memory of newspapers was when I cut out pictures of my favourite celebrities and stuck them up in a notebook, which I still hold on to. There was a very short while where I read the newspaper to know about what was happening around but slowly it stopped. I was getting tired of reading about rapes, murders, corruption, politics, poverty, riots and what not.

Now we have stopped buying a newspaper at home, no one gives a damn because we were just laying down the paper sheets on shelves to keep things on top of it so that the things don't end up getting dirty.

Shelf sheets replaced the newspaper sheets.

When..When..Whine!

When words fail to explain how you feel.

When you want to stay happy but are unable to.

When you are around a lot of people yet feel lonely.

When you try to smile but you cannot even move your lips.

When you try to wake up with joy but you just wake up grumpy every morning.

When you wish to enjoy and live life peacefully but breathe to merely survive yet another day.

You! Yes, You must know that no one can save you unless you know 'When' to stop over thinking and 'When' to let go!

Aftermath of cooking

We had a family get-together over the weekend after so long. We generally spend less time on food so we opt for home delivery and more on having a gala time together. Although, this time mom had different plans. She wanted to cook for all of us and trust me she is a great cook.

We had a feast.

 Menu for the day:

• Murungakka sambar
• Lemon rasam
• Aviyal
• Potato
• Semiya payasam
• Sweet payar
• Fruit pachadi
• Vendakka thayir pachadi
• Manga oorga
• Appalam
• Thamarakazhangu vathal

If you are someone who has not had 'Ela Saapadu’ in ages , you would curse me for merely
mentioning these tasty dishes. Generally we go for pizzas, pastas, naans and sabjis. Though this was one hectic cooking process,it was worth it.

I cannot even match my mom’s cooking. I do not know the ABC’s of cooking ,but I am good with washing dishes. Mom mocks that I have a great job as backup. I love washing vessels. My friends who are bachelors and extremely good with cooking often warn me saying 'Once you know to cook you will never ever find washing vessels as fun'. I use it in my favor and bribe mom with washing vessels.

I got to work soon after everyone was done eating. I cleared the surroundings, set my territory and with music turned on started my chore of the day. Ten minutes into it , not exaggerating, somehow the vessels kept on piling and all I could relate to was the 'Akshaya Pathra’.

Through this 'back aching, hand sogging , mentally getting ready for the next meal' chore I had a refreshing happy memory flash by - Prema Amma.

Her name is Rajeshwari . We fondly call her Prema Amma (Prema, her child). I grew up in a
joint family and she was more than a servant maid to all of us; she was like a second mom to
me, my sister and my cousins.

How she managed to wash vessels day in and out in a household where food was prepared for nearly twelve of us, I wonder.

A big salute to people like her.

This was such a happy realization for me.

Why the fuss? Take a bus!

With the sun shining bright and burning us alive, I end up booking a cab instead of taking a bus minutes away from home. To my wonder, I do miss that.

People crib a lot to take a bus and go to work. My relatives with a very concerned look question me, 'Is it not tiring?’ Don't you get vexed?’ ' Aren't buses suffocating’. I give them a big NO and their faces reflect their shock.

From my childhood my mother always made me take buses. When it was something of an emergency we used to take autos . I have seen the woman wait for hours to get a bus even today, though in the meantime I would bug her to buy me some food. May be that impacted on me and I gained enough patience to wait or even travel in an extremely crowded bus.

The wind blowing hard and taking away all the effort you put into setting your hair right; in one Poof! Probably the only thing I hate about taking the window seat, though getting a seat makes your day.

Getting a seat in a bus is what I would call in for a celebration, that too when it is a nice one in particular. Always avoid sitting in-between a bunch of loud group of friends. It can turn out to be a never ending journey. I can totally relate to the feeling of many when I used to travel with my friends during college. Oh! Our never ending laughter can get anyone on their nerves but those were few moments to cherish.

Coming back to finding a seat, never dare to take a seat in front of the conductor. That is the path you dug for yourself to the deaf road - those loud whistles. Somewhere in between would be my best choice where you get to hear nice stories of fellow passengers. Some are depressing , a few spark that moment of realization that you are blessed in life while there are people out there struggling to survive every day.

Striking a conversation with the person sitting beside can do wonders to you as long as you avoid controversial topics like 'Amma or Chinamma’ 'Vijay or Ajith’ 'DMK or ADMK’. Those can get worse I tell you.

For the love of bus journeys :)

Bus journeys are fun let aside the constant fear of being groped by a pervert soul in a crowded bus. With these occurrences getting common day by day your mind does not stop to think of every creepy possible way you can get molested and all the moves you can perform to protect yourself.

One of my favorite moments are when you come across a kid (Ha, obviously not the annoying talkative ones - result of bad parenting) with whom you communicate with crazy facial expressions. That is bliss I tell you. A smile on a baby’s face can make your sweaty journey into a sweet one to remember by.

I might be the only one worrying about the conductor not giving change. My mind fights for all arguments to put forth if he turns out to be the arrogant one. It gets to my head when I find him giving back change to everyone else but me. One reason why my purse is stocked with changes rather than notes.

Like I said earlier, window seats can ruin your day . At times it can make your day even better.

Ask me how?? Those are the best seats to get a hold of when all you want to do is to snore and sleep through long journeys even when the sun burns your face with rage.

One needs to travel in a bus to know what life is outside of your home. I should admit that I have experienced some crappy days in a bus but i believe that is life hitting you hard and letting you know that not every day can be the same and that each journey brings out the best in you.

Flow of thoughts

In our busy schedule we forget to think about life until that one day when we plan to stay at home to stretch out and relax , thoughts come rushing from nowhere. Boom!

There are times when we feel lost; our mind wanders around confused and gets stranded somewhere between past present and the future that we have been dreaming of. In search for peace we get our heads straight and try to distance ourselves from our own thoughts though they keep coming back to haunt us.

There is just so much to life which takes years for people to realize.

Everything remains unclear until we manage to pull ourselves together ; take a deep breath and fill us with surplus amounts of caffeine accompanied by a soothing song for the soul; console and convince ourselves that our life is on the right track.

Now, that is my kind of a day well spent!