Mojo.

My last blog was about Tenali, who we lost last October. This one is on Mojo


The year Tenali turned one,a black Doberman puppy came into our lives.
Scrawny and with dull coat he could barely stand when his stomach was full but he was lovable and energetic and a absolute beauty once he filled out and  got stronger.
Food was his weakness and he loved the freedom on the estate. Tenali and he would chase the babblers and mynas as they fed each evening sending them screeching into the air. He hated termite mounds and would attack them ferociously.
He was a great bison chaser too. There was an invisible line or fence that ran around the house that they were not to cross. If they did he would bark incessantly until I went out and shone my torchlight. There was no set time and the bison would either come as a herd or the one solitary bull....and they sought the green grass of our lawn.
One night the barking got so much that I went out to see and found the bull to be on our drive very close to the house. He did not take much notice of mojo who pranced around him , other than occasionally snort and try to toss him but he did not  take to me shining the light in his eyes and yelling "go away! I need my sleep" .He angrily tossed his great big head and moved away but Mojo  was not happy as he was still within the imagined fence. He ran up to me to tell me that and so i told him that the bull was gone and he could go back to his room. As I spoke I took a couple of steps towards his room which was in the direction of the drive... I shone the torch to show Mojo there was nothing there and to my horror found Mr bull just behind the room. Luckily the room is fenced around it and I quickly ran into it in case the bull decided he wanted to chase the dog. So much for bravery.
Mojo also loved taking thingsthat did not belong to him.I was not able to keep any thing out on the veranda,be it knick knacks or slippers. They would go missing by morning and he would be hiding it in his little room.
We would often laugh and say if we had a Christmas tree decorated outside we would find the serial lights and decorations in his room😅

It's funny how much animal pets become so much a part of you.They know you so very well, your moods , your likes and even how to play to the gallery.
Each morning we had a routine,since mojo was out all night he would be put in his room by 5,30 am and Tenal would get out for a bit.
They stopped being roommates once Mojo decided he would take a piece of Tenali's ear as a souvenir.
Each dog had a couple of hours out to roam the estate and loll around the house.
While Mojo made his time out working up a froth chasing monkeys and termites and often enough scorpions and snakes. For each he had a different bark. I must tell you this story about him and a king cobra

One evening while I was watching television  mojo started to bark. It was a warning bark ,one he used for snakes and scorpions. I came out into the garden and found him barking at a Zambia plant. It was about 3 feet high,and had thorny leafy stems.  I went round the bush and found nothing,he however was jumpy and snapped at the flowers the plant had at its root. I went back in to hear him barking again. I came out, took a large stick gave the Bush a couple of whacks and told him he was making a nuisance of himself.  Went back in and he started agsin. By then i was quite mad and came out in time to see him trying to leap at the bush.  I could not see much in the evening light and went closer ...he leapt higher and barked angrily. I was like "What are you barking at...." and then like a periscope on top of the bush I saw the hood. Boy ! It sent shivers . It was watching his every move and bobbing it's head, getting ready to strike. Having lost dogs to snake bites I knew I had to get him away.
That week he had lost his brand new collar and I had to literally drag him like a wwf fighter. I then had to chase the snake away.
That was one scary day.
It's funny that most dogs only want to attack the venomous snakes....5 to 10 feet ones.

Mojo was a electric mix of fun , naughtiness and energy. He could raise your spirit in a jiffy. The antics he pulled are legendary.
He had a habit of carrying his blanket wherever he slept. Sometimes when he was mad at the other dogs he would shake his blanket in such a  fury that it would bear testimony to his anger by being a ragged , barely there bit of cotton and barely cover his butt but he would lovingly carry it and snooze in the sun. I finally ended up giving him an old sack . They kept their square shape for less than a day🤣

Mojo didn't make it through this year.
He suddenly began to lose weight and looked poorly.
Since we relocated we left him on the estate so he would enjoy freedom but I  think freedom takes on a new meaning when your people don't live there and come and go as they please. We brought him home  thinking he was feeling depressed but it was more than that.
Sadly the vet didn't diagnose him properly and I had no idea what was happening.  Within a  week of finally  telling us he had liver failure Mojo passed on.
I was alone with him, coaxing him to eat, keeping him warm ,nothing worked and the grief was too much to talk about.
I wanted to put him down but vets in India don't believe in taking a life no matter what the struggle. This angered me so much because he had to suffer and I couldn't help him in any way. Living miles away from anywhere doesn't help either.
I let him down. The people he trusted .....let him down.
No I will never get over this immense sadness and tears still come even as i write.
I hope he is in a happy place.
I loved him so very much. He will not be forgotten
Rest in peace 2010 - 2018.

Goodbye my Tenali

Two weeks since he passed on.
My joy ,  My beautiful friend.

I find I am lost for words. For days I mooned around the house and garden. The tears would well up without notice. I found my throat thickening and I couldn't think.
At night the tears would wet my pillow as I remembered all his antics,the fun we had together and above his loyalty and unconditional love.
A friend sent me an article "Why we need to take pet loss seriously".It put a lot into perspective...
It made me realise how much I had lost and I had every need to grieve his passing.
This year has been so hard on my family....in the space of a year we lost two much loved four legged family members.
I need to talk about them ...because it's cathartic and they were so much a part of our everyday lives.
I am sure they will take up more than one blog page but you won't get to know them if I don't describe them to you.And I must,you will love them the way we do.
Tenali,was a great dane/ dalmation mix who we got one morning when my husband was at the barber's.  He was likely the runt of the litter as he was very timid.He followed me everywhere, room to room and lay outside the bathroom, if I was in.  He was scared of anything and everything and if we were not home would go into hiding till we got back. He never cried,or growled or bared his teeth at us..Docile and very loving to family and his size belied this so most visitors would keep their distance.
When he was about three months old he was as tall as  the dining table,my little girl had just turned three and needed the chair to climb up. I had made muffins one morning and left them on the tablet to cool with instructions that did she need to eat one she should use the chair and remember to push it back.
I guess the t.v. was too interesting because when I got out out of the shower ,who do you think was sitting on the chair with a nice muffin between his giant paws but our one and only Tenali.
Family meant everything to him and he favoured afternoon tea parties with my young daughter since that allowed him into her room and a good snooze on her carpet.
He loved having the kids home and the football was his favourite .
Chasing garden lizards as they sunbathed on the hot cement yard was another pastime  with odd unlucky one getting caught.
He was a wonderful ratter and one had to just whisper "tena,tena" for him to realise there was something exciting to do.
Last year he suddenly, unexpectedly died. He was all but ten in human years.
I was gone for the morning and he was fine. By morning he was gone. To this day I have no idea what happened .
I know we miss him a lot. He made us laugh and love and play and one really couldn't get mad at him . He had the most soulful eyes and a heart so big it enveloped us all.
It's no wonder that dogs make life so much worth living.
Friends who came home would tell us,he was lucky to have got a home with us because of his timidity and his soft heart but I don't believe them .
I know we got lucky enough to have him.
We have had the most wonderful ten years. We wouldn't trade that for anything .
Go,run among the tall grasses my beautiful Tena,chase those birds and butterflies and know you were loved so very much❤❤❤

The weather has turned and it's windy and cloudy .The summer was practically non-existent. .but no worries this me and rains and flowing rivers and a hot cup of coffee to warm you....somtimes with a dash of brandy .
If mood and tears permit I will tell you more stories but right now I can't see the words for the sorrow that fills me. If you have lost a loved pet do read that article and grieve your loss. It makes for a better world,a better person

Mum's the word

"She walks in beauty,like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;  "

This poem of Lord Byron best describes her....so often I have heard people say to me..."she's so graceful." Or "we just were in awe of her "
I don't know if I were in awe but definitely she had qualities I wanted to emulate. I say some because the rest of her is crazy....her orderliness, her cleanliness, her energy....just looking at her would make me tired.
I learnt at a young age I couldn't keep up and I wouldn't try.She was she and I was  I.

She married at age seventeen, an age when we were  busy going to college and having fun with friends. Married and moved to a state that was alien in every way....culture,speech and yet she thrived. She learnt the language,to speak and read and write....in comparison I still struggle with speech..I can read to get a bus but no more .
She had four children by the time she was 26 and ran her house like a ship.
With the first mate always away there was no chance for any of us to get away with things.
If we got into trouble,she lectured a week.

 If you haven't guessed by now ....you must know I am talking about my mother.

She was someone I always admired simply because she was a doer,someone you could count on and she rarely let you down.
She had goals and dreams and she made things happen irrespective of the circumstances.
She embodied the words "When the going gets tough, the tough get going"
She started a school for toddlers way back when they didn't exist and had two kids in her school. When she decided to stop she had close to 30.
She had children of all kinds, bossy,naughty,cute,mean and by the year end they were talking in English and ready to take on the world.
She spent all her waking hours doing something ...baking some great food in a tiny racold oven and I  inviting twenty people to tea,she took a knitting class for underprivileged girls twice a week,attended bible study, and prepared a Sunday school class for under fives. She also took a class for teenage girls .
All this and being home when we got back from school to listen to our stories as well.
Her gardening skills also was tops....she grew the best roses in town and routinely  had a vase of them in our front room with one to spare for her bun on Sundays .
When we left our little town for the city ,she had to forgo the manicured lawns and roses for potted plants.
She took to sewing more and until I married she did all my blouses and my western dresses.l found her the most complicated ones and she made them.
Life was simple then. In spite of all the worries I heard her singing and laughing .
My father's death changed all this...and though she remained strong and courageous in the face of tragedy she suddenly looked older.
Of course grief took her years to accept ,to move on without the person who had been the one steady thing in her life.
I saw her broken but not beaten,sad but resilient, and through it all her faith never wavered.
This is what I learnt.. ..and this has held me to be strong for her.
If Only Dr Strange could turn back time!
I have had the privilege to know her  as mum ....and in these fifty odd years of my life got to appreciate all the sacrifices and lectures ,the words of wisdom I didn't want or need but still had to hear, the concern and worry when I am low or sick, the nudge I get when I want to say enough but she thinks no way,
I have only lived so much.....
And so this year on mother's day I want to tell you that my mother is that exceptional lady. Someone you see once in a lifetime....and I am so glad you are part of mine.
I am the better for it for I have laughed and lived it with you
Thank you Ma,
They sure broke the mould when they made you!!
Love you so very much❤❤❤

Kavi - a tribute to wonderful friend.

Chalk and cheese 

That's how different we were.

Strange how two paths  as diverse as ours , crossed  and  we became friends.

I wish I could have turned back the clock to all that we didn't get to do that we talked about,dreamt about .

I wish that among the many changes that life threw in our paths we had kept in touch....

I wish that she could have lived all those dreams a young woman has...

I wish....

But,

Life has a way of throwing curveballs when we aren't looking.

She's gone and I find myself filled with sadness and regret .

This last month has been full of it.

Let me start though at the beginning. ..

English literature freshers  -  same bus route home. The only two things we had in common.

She was quiet,ever smiling,speak when your spoken to, type, while I was the exact opposite ....ever joshing , chattering ,friendly person.

We realised we took the same bus route home and so whoever got to the bus first saved a place for the other.

Whenever she missed a class I would pass her my notes and vice versa.

We went to the British Council library together....walked together to the nearest bus stop and she would wait with me until we got a bus that we could go on together....sometimes the wait would take an hour.

We would watch nice cars go by and wish some handsome dude would give us a drop home .(never happened :( sadly)

We took the national social service the first year.Had to wear a Saree and that's the only time I saw her wear one.She was more at home in pants and shirts and it suited her well. 

On the weekends we would meet up at her aunts store .I lived a good five bus stops away.

The year "McKenna's Gold " came out we all went as a huge class group. She was sick ....so when she got well we went again. I think we saw it thrice. We both loved Clint Eastwood .

We managed to convince our families to let us go to the Gatsby at the IIT  campus. Foolishly not knowing how we would get back but knowing we would look out for each other. 

Chose our outfits carefully, even going to buy t-shirts to suit the mood. Rock and roll 80's ....tights and t - shirts and boots.

One time we went to a rock concert...again as a group and watching out for each other....both of us having brothers or cousins that were also watching us.

Unfailing over the three years that we graduated we spent so much time enjoying each other's company , waiting each day for the bus and never letting the other down.

When my father passed away the week after our last day of college she came home every day.

Somehow I  couldn't find my feet after and despite her attempts to get me out of the house ,to do a German course and to go back to college , I didn't respond. Within the next year I moved out of the city.

Life went on .....we had no communication at all so I never knew if and when she married or who .

The next I heard of her from a classmate who saw her picture in the newspaper.  

I wanted to call the number but felt sad that I had not kept in touch. The friend said she would ask her husband why none of her friends  had kept in touch.

I have no answers but I do know that very often we take diverse paths that sometimes don't cross but it doesn't mean we forget.

The memories are now bittersweet . 

Your presence  will always grace those moments that remind us of you and you will be cherished as wife,mother, daughter and friend.

I remember the words of this song,one of many that meant so much to us growing up 

    " you were loved by somebody, meant something to somebody ,touched somebody's heart along the way..."

You touched my heart Kavi , you meant a lot to me ....more than you will ever know. 

Family ties

I called.
I made the first move.It took me three days to build up my courage.I pondered and worried about how my call would be received.
And then one evening I just told myself that if I didn't call,I would regret it even more . Once I dialed the number there was no going back.I had to answer, had to ask the right questions knowing I was talking to someone who I had almost 20 years ago.
It's funny how even the most meaningless relationships actually mean something to you.
I know I haven't lived long enough to give advice but I see how often we screw up the nicest of relationships just because we dont want to be the better person,the pushover and often a day of not talking to someone who you thought was close ends up into years.
In my case I just didn't bother to get to know people who didn't add to my life.
They were there,I was here and the gap seemed too big to bridge and I  think we don't realise that even though we may have nothing in common we still have ties that bind.
Ties of blood ....
People who my children should know and don't.
 At family gatherings I find I know a handful of the relatives. We meet at these one off weddings of a long lost someone's cousins son.
There are some we see quite often and who we can ahh and ooh with on how we are looking older,fatter,thinner,on how our children have grown and catch up on family gossip.
My husband is not a family gatherer. He hates these get togethers and will easily avoid them if he can.
When we first got married I was told on a visit to a periamma who lived in another town that on no condition should I be persuaded to stay in their house. I was to have lunch with the family and then chit chat for a certain set amount of time and then he would give me the nod and sign. I was to get up and say my farewells and gently drop all suggestions to stay the night. "You will be staying by yourself if you say yes,count me out" was his terse response.
The only place he does stay stay at is my mother's. For once he is on the back foot,as she stays in the back of beyond and he has very little choice .
I recently wrote a letter to each of my cousins on my mother's side inviting them to participate in my grandmother's legacy and found them responding to it with much warmth . There are do many stories for us to share there.I  hope that it's the string that will tie us all together.
For it is in the stories that we pass on to our children that keep the people in our lives alive.
I know I cannot get back that severed relationship if that person is gone but I can renew the ties the bind.
I said goodbye knowing I had done the right thing. That I could feel the sadness of her passing and knowing in some way I had been a comfort to her grieving husband.
I  hope  I did . I hope that if you should read this and if it helps you change something in yourself...i may have made a difference.

April brought the showers and the coffee buds have dried and begun to get ready for the second blossom. The bees are busy making coffee honey.
The weather has turned too warm and global warming is here to stay.
It's time for cold brews and ice cream...
Don't close the door on any relationship ,if you must leave then leave the light on so there is always hope....

Family ties

Yesterday made me sad
I got a text early in the morning letting me know my cousin passed away.
I couldn't make it to the funeral but that wasn't it...
She was my first cousin on my father's side and I hardly knew her.
All day I wondered why
When we were little ,we visited my grandmother every month.A sunday after church drive to her place on the other side of the city for lunch.A very sombre and boring affair that I couldn't wait to end.This was because my grandmother held the reins and nobody dare cross her. The cousin who passed was a young nursing student and would often be asleep.
My Dad was the eldest in the family  and was the honoured guest,and my grandmother's pride and joy.
We never spoke much to anyone,just some shy smiles and answers to questions in Tamil which I couldn't speak at all well.
We moved out of the city the year after my father died and with that all familial ties...with his family.
Mum was different ,she always wrote and called and helped whenever she could but I  am sad to say I didn't. Didn't bother to anyway .
I kept in touch with a few cousins on my father's side,and have met more on my mother's side only because of family gathering.
It's an excuse if any.
Am I the only person who does this.?
Why are indifferent to our own...
Why does it need to be the other person who makes the effort...and if they don't well we give up as well.
We make no attempt to visit or call.
I fear the ties will end with my mum...shes the one who knows whose birthday it is,who just had a baby,who child is getting married and it's to her they turn to when they need advice,or pass on a message.
I need to change this but am not sure how. I need mum to make me a list of everyone and write their birthdates and other stuff do I can call or text.
I need to tell my cousin I am so sorry I didn't make time to know her, and am sorry for what she and I have missed.
Maybe this will change now....i hope it does. I pray it does

I hope those of us who have dead relationships do revive those we can. It's important to know family.

The rains came on time and the fragrance  of the coffee flowers are in the air. Bees are busy making coffee flavoured honey. i hope to be able to share a picture of the coffee buds with you.
Until then enjoy the coffee and the summer

Adventures in a blue car

Last week while chatting with a childhood friend,we remembered the car my family drove.

A light blue Standard Herald.
Oh boy ,that car did some major travels. Since my dad was posted out of the town we lived in ,the day school ended, the very next day  we would be off to wherever he lived at that time.
My mum learnt to drive the year we got the car. She turned out to be a great driver,and I only remember  the one time she backed into a lamppost . The day she came to pick us up from school and I must inform you that it was not her fault at all .So, she had just learnt to reverse and she would bring the peon to make sure she had help when or if there was a puncture or break down.A  more than middle aged guy who muttered all day. Anyway he was told to get down and tell her how much of turning space she had ....and say "vanga"and show his hand for her to stop.I dont know where he was looking that particular day but she backed and hit the post. She was mad at him and I don't think he came back for work. Don't remember her having any other incident in all the years after though .
The car meanwhile travelled all the way down south...
Rameswaram,Karaikudi, Madurai,Dindigul,Nagercoil,...we were all bunched up in the back seat.I hated the long sticky drives,the Herald didn't have windows that opened in the back so the four of us had to make do ,the younger two in the middle and the elder in the sides. Where we went, the dog went too so some place for him too. I was the puking one, especially when we climbed up the ghats as we  reached the top , my stomach would be in my mouth and often in the car as well.My brothers hated  it,so no one wanted to sit next to me. Of course they had little choice.
The day  before we left,mum would cook enough food,this would mean sandwiches,muruku, cake,and whatever else was needed to stave off four hungry  children. We had this suitcase that so voluminous that our clothes (all four and mums ) would be packed.Sometimes we even took our cycles.(Again  if the place we were going to gave us an opportunity to use them) Mum was tireless and the food hamper was filled to bulging.,it was a lovely green  and white box that she bought off some missionary.
Once the journey began we would stop only for food .
Find a nice shady tree,and Mum would spread bed sheet for us to sit.If it were underneath a tamarind tree,well,our pockets would be full of the sweet and sour fruit.
The car served us for many years,though I do remember it had some problem with the crankshaft. I cannot say more for I have no clue which part of the car that belongs to. It's gearbox also began to wear down but not before many adventures.
One year on one of our many travels my Dad was the designated driver and it was raining. The rain was so heavy you could not hear much else and the sound of gushing water became so fierce as we neared a causeway,the water here flows over the road and dad had to slow down and keep to the very centre.As we cautiously  made our way through suddenly in the mist ahead a man pushing his cycle in one hand and holding his umbrella in the other. No amount of horning made him move faster or to the side....well the slower dad went the water began to push the car and to our horror we were going sideways. In some presence of mind dad shut the engine and turned the wheel to the other side as much as he could turn it. We stopped at the very edge.
The man in the cycle had not even turned.
From somewhere some men turned up and helped push the car back to solid ground.
One time leaving the quaint little church at Cokers walk in Kodaikanal,we came down the steep driveway to find the gate was half closed. Dad pulled the handbrake to get out and open it. As he started back to the car the handbrake slipped and the car began to move forward.Dad was shocked, he put both hands forward as if he could stop it from coming further and plunging ,metres to its death..with the rest of us. Mum pulled up the handbrake but it didn't stop.My oldest brother then somehow scrambled over us and stamped the break.
Sometimes it feels like a premonition.
Sometimes I feel we had second chances. You don't give up on second chances. You grab them with both hands and live them fully.
Wonder what happened to our Herald ?


The weather has become dry and hot.Nights are still chilly.
Coffee plants are getting ready to bud and wait for the first showers in April. They need the dry weather to stress them enough to really blossom .
I just need coffee when I get stressed. Hopefully I  can share some pictures of the blossom in my next post.
Until then enjoy the last days of winter as a hard hot summer beckons....

Love and Loss

He was warm and cuddly, He smelt of lifebouy soap and freshness When he laughed,he guffawed and his belly shook. He would sniff my forehead and swing me onto his back for a ride around the house saying"uppu beka"(do you want salt) and knew more about the stars in the night sky than anyone I knew. He was a unpretentious, hardworking, and my hero....i just called him daddy. Love has a way of seeing the best in someone,no matter what they did wrong a d as the years have passed I remember the good times for they far outweigh the bad. My perpetual memory of him is coming home on a Saturday morning, he was posted outstation most of my growing up and would take a night bus to get home.He would never come empty handed...but always have a jackfruit,a bunch of palmfruit(nungu)tied in a palm leaf,mangoes,and such. He would leave sunday evening carrying his worn suitcase and I remember watching and waving until he was a tiny speck and I couldn't see him for either he was too far away or my eyes were cloudy with tears. Many years later when he used to fly ,he would save the peppermints that he got so I could have them. Yesterday I found a letter he wrote me when I went on a college excursion....he had asked not to miss seeing certain particular places of interest.His knowledge on things around him was astounding and I found myself often openmouthed and taking it all in. The envelope included a Kodak cricket contest that he would cut out of the newspaper and fill up for me to take part(I know little of that sport other than bat,bowl and six). In the many years that he did this we won nothing ....except it made for a wonderful letter exchange between a young father and his daughter. Summer nights after dinner we would often sit on the terrace of out house in the city looking up at the stars. He would point out each one and often have a tale to tell me. When we visited places like forts and temple towns he would tell us the history behind it and if a religious tale ,well he knew them too. Though my memory is not as great as his was I have tried to pass along these stories to my children . They help especially during long drives. I was also fortunate enough to spend some holidays alone with him, (my brothers had school)though the days were often tedious ,I say tedious because I had hit 10 and I wasn't to be left alone at home so he took me to the office and I had to stay quiet and read and draw. He could plait my hair well enough,and could sew if his shirt lost a button (He had an old sweet box with thread and needle), he could also knit ..or so he said. His love for cricket far outweighed everything and even in the midst of packing and moving house his transistor would be blaring the cricket scores. He played every sport and could be a mean opponent in chess and Chinese checkers....rarely letting me win. They say you can't turn back the clock and one should move forward but time stood still the day he died. He would have turned 86 today but he stays 56 .....forever in my mind, young,vibrant,ruddy cheeked and smiling. Forever Young, Happy Birthday Daddy