The bag and its controversies

“Auntie I would like to ask you something but you should not mistake me.”

“It is regarding the snacks you send every year for the festival.”

“Oh is it regarding the snacks? May be you don’t like the repetition?”

“No…. no….. Please don’t change your menu… We actually anticipate your yearly mouth-watering nibbles…

But it is the repetition of the bags over the past 5 years in which you send those items that had created lot of guessing between me and my wife Lallu. We know that it is the bag which has coconut banana and paan and a sweet given to the wedding guests before they leave the hall.

“And how does the guessing game go?”

Lallu thinks  these are bags from a marriage stopped at the last moment. She says it  might be a dowry problem……compulsion by the parents.... a love affair etc. etc…..

“What is your idea …my dear boy?”

“ I think it should be the excess bags printed for  the wedding Knowing your penchant for non-plastic bags they should have given you those to be put into use…..

And today we decided that we would put an end to this argument that has gained an yearly permanency ……… like an yearly budget discussion….and sort it out with you once for all”

I laughed and said “you should have come along Lallu. Over a cup of green tea our discussion would have been more interesting.”

“I was wondering why no one has asked me this question for the past so many years.”

The story goes like this

“It was the wedding of the only son of a widow who with her hard work and determination educated the boy in engineering diploma and when he expressed his desire to go for a degree course it was a bit of a disappointment for her. He convinced her that with an engineering degree it would be easy to get a high paying job.  His goodness was beyond compare and his mother knew that she was not wasting money on him. She begged and borrowed to fulfil his desire. He was not a high flyer but finished his the course fairly well. Due to this and his lack of proficiency in English he couldn’t land himself in a good job. But both of them didn’t lose heart and The mother gave out his bio data to all she knew with the hope that one of them might help out her son. With a bit of luck he landed on a decent job and his mother wasted no time in fixing his  marriage.

On the day before the wedding when the bags for the return gift were delivered the boy was furious. The name printed on the bag was his dad’s younger brother and his wife. The boy knew how they were treated after his father’s demise, how jealous they were when he did his engineering and what sort of mental torture his mother underwent with them as their neighbour.

“Amma (mother) …the boy shouted …”What have you done?”

He was holding the gift bag in his hand

The mother was worried that the boy was talking about the expensive bag. She tried to pacify him.

“Dear son I know the bags are a bit expensive but they looked so beautiful…..And since you have sent your wedding invitation through the computer and relatives were invited personally I wanted your  hard earned degree to be  known to the world…and that you are marrying a degree holder too . So I printed your names with the respective degree. Is that a mistake or buying an expensive bag is a mistake?

Don’t worry …….. I can manage the expense.”

“ Amma I am neither worried about your expense nor about printing the degrees. Why their name?” the boy shouted.

“That is the way of the world,” his mother said matter of fact.

“I don’t want to abide by the tenets of the world. Why didn’t you print your name on those bags?”

“My dear boy” she said “Your father is no more and it is not auspicious to put my name on the bags.” She said

“To hell with your customs” he yelled “If you are going to distribute those bags tomorrow   I swear that my marriage is off.”

His friends who had gathered there to pack the items in the bags tried to convince him to adjust for the sake of his mother.

“I would rather go for a registered marriage than a wedding in which those printed bags would be distributed.” He firmly said

His mother called up her close family friend and poured out her heart.

“The boy is right. At some point we have to do away with our orthodox customs…… Don’t worry I will take care of everything. I will be at your place after some time and talk to the boy.”

A satisfied mother switched off the cell phone.

Straight away he proceeded to Parry’s’ Anderson street (Chennai) and bought the required number of generic bags which just said “Thank You.”

He went to the wedding house and instructed his friends to pack the items in the new bags and said to the boy “Hats off my dear son for your excellent stand… I don’t know if I would have done the same in a similar situation….. I consider these bags not as a wedding gift to you rather they are your wedding gift to me since you have taught me a lesson to stand by a principle…!”

Thus those printed bags came into my possession… and mind you those bags which were discarded for a principle would be proudly sent to you till I exhaust them. Is it ok with you?”

Manu was emotional; he smiled and nodded his head!

Kumquats in the Quibble Island!

If ever you happen to visit the Quibble island cemetery, in Santhome, Chennai, on All Souls ’ Day and if ever you are lucky enough to see a grave decorated with kumquat fruits, be assured that these fruits indeed carry a big story which you are lucky enough to share with me today.

Leaving a cushy job at Calcutta and start a new venture in Madras was a complicated decision.  We took a chance and had decided that in the worst case scenario both of us could be employed somewhere. My husband was young and he didn’t have much of an experience. And he was new in the arena of finance. There were month ends when he had to convince his bank to release at least the staff salary. Designing a product, manufacturing it, marketing and selling the same and collecting the money single handedly was not the easiest proposition. The cash flow crunches debilitate you. The market preferred a branded product to an innovative piece. On one of those ‘down in the dumps’ days, uncle came in the evening just to chat and my husband shared some his problems with him.

In the course of the conversation uncle asked him “Raja what do you think of me?” My husband was wondering what sort of question was that when he was weighed down by his own problem. Out of courtesy he said “As your name board says you have a doctorate in horticulture and you were the dean of a famous agricultural university and your brilliance had earned you the emeritus scientist status” He laughed at this and said, “Please listen to a little story”

It was a family of all sons and this blessed mother’s daily prayer was on these following lines:

“God you have given me plenty of blessings through my intelligent sons;  I thank you for that gift; I also need one more gift from you; one of my sons  as you very well know is a  good boy but  a dud.  Amongst my sons your sharing had gone haywire somewhere; but I don’t blame you for that; but my only request is that please make sure that he passes his S.S.L.C and gets a clerical job in the government so that after us he has a comfortable living without depending on his brothers.”

He continued “and you know who was that black sheep of the family? It’s I!!!”

“Please uncle don’t put down yourself just to encourage us” I said to him

“I am not trying to weave a story ma” he said “With very low mark I passed my SSLC but I wanted to go for the intermediate course in the college. Passing my SSLC should have given me the big boost and the courage to go on like my other brothers. My parents didn’t want to discourage me and they put me on to the course. I think some anunaki or a greater power should have touched me at that juncture. From that moment on, there was no looking back for me! I came out with flying colours through my graduation and post-graduation and the miracle of all miracles was that I won a merit scholarship to go to USA for my research in agricultural science!!”

“To make a beginning is always difficult” he said, “but once you start it, the ride becomes either smooth or at the least you will be able to avoid the mistakes you had committed earlier.” “You have caught hold of the tiger’s tail Raja (my husband’s pet name) and now there is no option but to ride on it and with your intelligence you can definitely do It.” he added.

These on and off morale boosting sessions helped us to manage many situations and it played an important role in our progress.

We were progressing well professionally and with a good foreign collaboration we have put up a factory of our own. Naturally uncle took over the responsibility of laying our garden. He added value to the whole scenery by planting two kumquat saplings in the midst of the garden and told me that this kumquat the lucky tree of South East Asia would bear thousands of fruits for me.

Uncle had interesting details about the introduction of kumquats. During a seminar some scientists were challenging him that he could not grow kumquat in South India. Uncle took up the challenge and the first kumquat plant took root in his house garden. Slowly he propagated the same by gifting away plants to all his friends. The first degree connection among the kumquat owning Chennaites may one day tempt them to form an association similar to a Rotary!  A person who came to the factory to do some art frescoes saw our kumquat and became very friendly since she was also a one to get that favour from uncle!

For my part I give away the plants to whomever likes to have and sometimes when the yield is too high we had gifted away the bottled kumquat juice to our staff members on their birthdays. Being a joint venture, people coming from UK factory were fascinated with the fruit and there was one person who takes away carton full of fruits to make his marmalade on his every visit to India!!

Uncle B.W.X. Ponnaiah is no more with us. On All Souls Day if any one sees his grave at the Quibble island cemetery at Foreshore estate, Chennai decorated with kumquat fruits it is our  tribute to the great ‘morale booster’ in our lives!