FRIENDSHIPS

This is trying my hand at two new skills. Writing direct on the PC and not with pen and ink, and, navigating my way thro these spaces: how to start, where to click and how not to get stuck. It seems to be working.

I also thought it may be a good idea to classify the writings into Discussion, Human Interest, Fiction, and Reflection. This idea comes to my mind as I write from the example of late Prof P Lal who has been a great inspiration in spite of a limited interaction.

I have had many lovely interactions with friends this week. Friendship is such a free emotion that it exists and grows without physicality. Sujatha & I were seated in a lovely redone old home with large windows and double ceilings enjoying a very early dinner. The air was fragrant with sambrani and delightful green tulsi water cleansed our palate. In walks Indira Chary with her charming daughters, granddaughter, and spouses. I see only a vaguely familiar face, plump smiling, looking like Indu, Indira's twin. This is Charu Anantachary our 2nd form class teacher, the recipient of our exuberance and mischief. I am meeting Ms Charu after 48 years. She was unruffled, dealing with Potter like monsters of uncontrollable 12 year olds, her sari pallu coiled around her neck, a deep black knitted cardigan to ward off the Ooty chill. The Chary sisters Vasanta, Charu, & twins Indu and Indira all taught at Nazareth. It was Vasanta who had the first appointment and relocated the family from Belgaum to Ooty.Charu taught a few years, Indira a year, but it was Miss Indu that stayed on retiring just a few years back. Indu was cajoled to teach Hindi to deaf eared students who often translated lovely  ”कल कल चल चल खाती सरिता "  as "yesterday,yesterday,walking walking says the river".Indu writes lovely letters keeps abreast with all her girls and is second only to Mother Good Counsel now Sr Angela in Ireland. Miss Charu came to school each morning with Little  Kirti her niece in tow. Now here in Chennai hugging me so affectionately is  Miss Charu while Kirti sports an incomprehensible look .

Sr Angela is doing better and describes her room at St Josephs. There is a large window facing her bed which opens onto a small flower patch with several bird feed bowls and a bird bath. As the sun peeps out from a cold grey Irish morning the birds start flocking to the garden that stands out in pretty colours and let out shrill sounds. Sr Angela enjoys this bird watching pastime and sits with her book taking breaks to look out. Sometimes there is heavy snowfall and the ground is covered in soft white. Still the birds come flitting around and pecking at the seed. I can just imagine the tranquillity of that image! When I call Sr Angela, how fondly she enquires about my family, Bharat my son in law, and then about all my mates, talking to Shruti Preeti’s daughter and having a letter and call from Shrikant my brother.

Sarla was here for Sankranti and we had a lazy  day of talk and food with Padmini ( who was also a teacher  for a short while at school ), Vimala Mami, Pattam. With  Kusum and aunty, we listened to soft gazals , fine violin of Shri Jog ji of old Hindi songs and  munched on dark Bournville chocolate. A chance look at the TV chanel and there is Steinbecks classic  Cannery Row , so warm with human frailty. A lovely response from Urmila Devi just back from Sri Lanka. Urmila writes in the same way as she plays her music from what I remember, with grace and delicacy.

Starting this blog is on encouragement from Pratibha Jain who even offered to set up the space in case I was diffident.

This is the moment.

Suraksha