Things that happened to me that only happen once in a life, that remind you of the first time they happened if they do try to happen again:
- I lived with my grandparents for years before my parents brought me to live with them. My grandfather taught me to swing and read as a child. Who would have known you can swing without someone pushing you from the back, if not for him. He picked me at school every time I faked a stomach ache. This man has been losing his vision for two years. He seems to have to learn everything anew. He calls me when he eats, asks me to point where which food item is, he can only see blobs minus the details now. Last month he called me to his room and asked me to help him understand his phone charger. I closed my eyes and felt the charger, opened them, and saw the marks. I said make sure the surface with the ridges faces up. He felt it for 3 minutes and said “that will do.”
- I witnessed for the first time in my life the setting up of a temple. With so many temples around us, I would assume I would see one being setup every day. But it is like that day when I saw a number-plate being painted. Till you see it, you don’t realize you hadn’t seen it being done before.
Setting up a temple is a mighty awkward affair. Not a shard of the glorious shit of Navratri, Durga poojas, and Ganesh Chaturthi. Plain dangerous for people trying to access weird holy spots to beautify, painful for the length of the setup poojas, wasteful for the fucking whimsy (The idol has to be immersed fully in rice till it reaches the temple). - Baby R had to be taken to a hospital and kept there, saline patiently dripped into her. I have never heard so many babies crying in one space before and I have worked at an orphanage. When the crying had dropped our spirits enough, we went out and bought chocolates, downloaded games in which monkeys peek-a-boo, sang songs till we made at least 6 injections and 5 drips feel better that day.
- I told an older male member of my patriarchial family to not sit next to me when I drive if he must micromanage every move.
- I found a soundtrack called ‘The sound of someone you love who’s going away and it doesn’t matter.’ It’s beautiful.
- Remember that awkward era when Amitabh was neither young nor old and he made bad movies with cute songs like kisi disco mein jaye? I watched a movie from that era with my Dadi. I saw a midlife-crisis-stricken Amitabh talk to his young heroine about maintaining celibacy while undeniably turned on; so past the point of awkward with the scary thunder and electricity failure that it was plain funny. I have hated nights as a child, only made through them knowing they pass for sure. I think I began the process of reclaiming night-time with the crutches of our 11:30 pm laughter.
- I got a scratch on papa’s brand new car while sneaking it out for a drive at night. Such a normal family problem of growing up, change, and process that it makes me blush. Maybe I am poaching, should not get used to it. What ensued was an awkward apology with too many ‘very’s and silent forgiveness after which he taught me to reverse the car from a tricky corner, all of which to me is a fairy tale. So much more at least than the ones I was told about romantic love.
- I taught my aunt to drive a car. None of the men she had asked help from helped. So she wanted me to go with her. We went, the only thing wrong about her driving was how sure she was that she would fuck up. I kept silently looking into the sunset, so she kept repeating the instructions her husband throws at her, the complaints and she mirrored the fear he had when being driven by her. Am I going to bang into that car? she asked me. ‘Never’ I said. She drove her husband to another town yesterday. She called, said he complained, and yelled at every turn. But she did not sway. Empowerment is a silent job.
