Rainbow Days – Falling off the Morning Routine Bandwagon

We all know that morning routines are the toughest.

After years of work, I got the boys “CRAZY” weekday morning routine tidied up.

The rule is simple. Most of the early morning work needs to be finished up the previous evening.

Snacks packed.
Water bottles packed.
Backpacks packed and left near the door.
Coats left in the coat stand.
Shoes near the door step.
Pants, shirts, socks etc..set out near the shower.
Car keys in a little box…so, we are not looking for it in the morning.

I even threatened some of us in the household with severe consequences (for example, “loss of wifi password”. I know, the chillls ran through your spine as you read those 4 words, did it not? Yep, I can be quite evil if I choose to!) if I ever catch them reading in the restrooms in the morning.

The 12 year old and the 6 year old are doing a phenomenal job of getting ready in the mornings.

Every other day, I catch the “other” grown-up kid falling off the bandwagon and not following the “military-like” routine. Playing with Rainbow. Rubbing her tummy.

Granted, he gets up earlier than me and gets the boys started on their morning routine. But, damn it! Can’t he get in row and follow the “military-like” routine?

If I catch him not following the routine, I am going to be my evil-self next week. If you see him, tell him “Consider yourself warned buddy. If I were you, I wouldn’t mess with her.”

Also, my “turning bad” next week might explain any whiny “I hate her” messages you might hear from him. If that happens, you already know whose side to take. Don’t you? Morning routines are the toughest and the ones that work hard to get the routine in place…need support (pun intended). Remember that when you take sides.

“Life is life’s greatest gift. Guard the life of another creature as you would your own because it is your own. On life’s scale of values, the smallest is no less precious to the creature who owns it than the largest.”
— Lloyd Biggle Jr.

And, in case you are wondering, how the story lines runs in the evenings…

Falling off the Morning Routine Bandwagon - 2 - Ambal Balakrishnan

Falling off the Morning Routine Bandwagon - 3 - Ambal Balakrishnan

P.S. I love him very much and it is very hard for me to be my evil-self with him. The post is meant to be a fun Friday post to help us all think about morning routines. So, chill. Happy Friday!

Why do I like this Fatalistic song that spells Despair?

Since the family has been together most of the holidays, I have been playing all my favorite playlists for the boys to hear.

I have also been subjected to more than my fair share of “Dynamite” and “What does the Fox Say?”

Here is one of my favorite songs that the boys have been listening to – “Ennakavi Padinalum”.

Given my die-hard optimist heart, upbeat persona and “the glass is always full” (half water + half air, right!) nature you might be very surprised that I like a fatalistic song like “Ennakavi Padinalum” that spells despair.

But, what is not to like about this masterpiece (said to be originally written by Annaiyampatti Adisesha Iyer a century ago).

Here are the reasons that is song is on my favorite list:

  1. I grew up with Daddy singing Murugan songs at all times. So, the song fits right into the “Murugan” portfolio that my brain might be hard wired to like. 
  1. The creative and innovative renderings by different artists over the years leave me spellbound every time that I listen to these songs.    
    Aditya Rao’s rendering
    Aruna Sairam’s rendering
    Madurai Somu’s rendering
  1. In Fall 2012, a young looking 70 year old walked into my living room for Golu and captured my heart and soul with his rendering of the song. Tears rolled down my eyes as I video-taped his calling out to Murugan. My friend Sarvanan’s dad Murugiah’s rendering. (please bear with the kids noise in the background)
  1. Another name for Murugan is Kumar. Like the Kumar that I have at home. “enna kavi padinalum undan ullam irangavillai” means (in the in-house Kumar context…not the Lord Murugan context) “Whatever I ask or tell you Kumar, you don’t seem to get it. Do you?!” 

In case you are wondering what the picture has to do with “Ennakavi padinalum”, here is the back story.

This summer, during our India trip, I took the boys to many temples. One of them is featured in the picture. You can see Ari, Adi and Daddy walking into the temple. The temple is Kumaran Kundram at Chromepet (where I grew up for the first 18 years of my life) in Chennai, India. Kumaran Kundram happens to be a Murugan temple that played non-stop Murugan songs over the temple loud speakers.

Life comes a full circle. Does it not?

Now, onto turning over the speakers to the boys to be subjected to  “Dynamite” and “What does the Fox Say?”

Those two songs have have grown on me thanks to the boys.

Beautiful Red Ornament

I hope you enjoy the serendipity and ephemeral beauty in this shot (much like our life!) as much as I did.

Here is the story behind the picture.

Adi was dressed in a red/black coat yesterday. It was chilly. So, I insisted he put gloves on. He obliged. Notice how the black gloves match the upper portion of his coat in this picture?

We decided to do a small hike near Lake Austin. The trail was decorated with Christmas ornaments.

Side note: It seems to be a common practice for volunteers to decorate road side and highway side trees during the month of December. What a great idea!

Due to the strong winds, a few of the Christmas ornaments had fallen down on the trail side. Adi and Ari tried to pick up the ornaments and put them back on the trees again.

As they were doing this, I was clicking some pictures of the beautiful Lake Austin.

Adi had his gloves closed as he ran up to me and said “Amma, looks what is in this clam shell.”

I said “What?”

He slowly opened up the clam likes gloves to reveal this beautiful red ornament.

Notice how the red color in his coat plays off with the red colored ornament and the black color in his coat plays off with the black colored clam-like gloves?!

I click a 1000 pictures. And, then I click a gem like this one.

Happy Holidays!

Drive Carefully – Remembering Dr. R. Anantaraman

I met him on a warm, sunny and beautiful afternoon in Summer 2012. I took an instant liking to him for three simple reasons:

  • He said he was 80+..but didn’t look it at all.
  • He seemed so full of life.
  • He said he had married his college sweetheart and enjoyed life with her in the last 5 decades.

As usual, I ran around and tried to ensure that he and his college sweetheart had enough company to mingle with at the party and were also well-fed.

Somebody had brought a couple of cakes to the party. So, I invited him to cut one of the cakes. He gladly obliged. I laughed as he beckoned to his college sweetheart to come eat the first piece. At that moment when he beckoned her, Kumar and I glanced at each other, nodded and smiled. It is one of those meaningful glances. Nobody would notice it. Except two people who are connected for eternity. The glance meant “How sweet! That is us. Is it not? In a few decades that is how we will be. Will we not?”. We clapped and cheered. Then, all of us ate the cake to celebrate “School is done! Summer is here! Let us have a blast!!”.

Soon afterwards, he and I became Facebook friends. We did the usual. Liked each others posts. Commented on each others posts. Wished each other for birthdays and other happy occasions.

He would send me the occasional “I like the way you choose to live your life” comments.

Several months later, his daughter-in-law (also my neighbor and friend) Meera called me to ask if I had a stash of Tamil novels or books to loans him and his college sweetheart.

Even though we hadn’t met each other after that summer party, I had grown to like him because of the glimpse he gave into his personality through the notes he sent me.

We all do favors for the ones that we like. Don’t we?

So, I went through all the bookshelves in the garage and made a pile of magazines (mostly Thendral monthly tamil magazines). I called Meera and she requested me to drop it off at their house.

Between errands, I swung by their place. His sweetheart answered the door with a smile. I gave her the magazines and she beamed. She urged me to come inside the house and have a drink and chat with him. I told her “I would love to. But, I am in a rush. Can you convey my regards to Uncle? I have to run.” So, I didn’t get to meet him that day.

If I had known what I know now, I would have listened to her. I would have walked inside. I would have flashed my usual grin and said hello to him. I would have asked him a whole bunch of questions about his life and life experiences. I would have gently nudged him to tell me more details about how he dated his college sweetheart in the 1950’s (when dating was taboo in India). I would have asked him about how he had proposed. I would have asked her how and why she accepted. I would asked both of them to share their “married for so many decades, raised 4 kids and still going strong” secrets. I would have asked him about the challenges that he overcame in his life. I would have clicked a few pictures of them together. I would have enjoyed the drink she would have lovingly made for me. I would have said good bye. I would have hugged both of them and sought their blessings. I would have. I would done all that and more. If only I had known what I know now.

Several months later, Meera invited me to dinner over a weekend. I couldn’t go because I was double-booked that day. I am not sure if he was with Meera that evening. I could have possibly met him and his college sweetheart.

Oct 10, 2013 was his 82nd birthday. I sent him this note:
Advanced birthday wishes Uncle. I seek your blessings. Please bless Kumar and me…so that we may live to be happy college sweethearts…just like Aunty and you.

He sent me this witty response:
Thanks for your greetings. It took me to years- 1951-1958 when my friendship with my classmate Tulasi blossomed into ‘love’ which later ‘tied’ us in wedlock. You said you and Mr Kumar are college mates. Good. Keep that relationship. But I am sure you would not have climbed the Pallavaram hills many times as Tulasi and I did, when we were in the third year medical students. Thank you once again.

Oct 10, 2014 was his 83rd birthday. I sent him this note:
Happy Birthday Uncle. May God bless you with many, many more decades of togetherness with your college sweetheart. Take care.

He sent me this quick response:
Thanks a lot. Happy you remember my college love affair ended in a solid and still loving married life. Thank you once again

On Thursday, Oct 16, my dear friend Trushna left me a voice mail. She asked me to call her back. Her voice read “worried”. So, I called her back right away. She gave me the news. My heart sank.

I gathered up my pep-talk strength and called Meera. I told her to stay strong. I told her that it is going to be alright. I told her to put up a fight for him and for his college sweetheart. I told her not to give up.

I went through my old stash of pictures of him. I realized then that I didn’t have even one picture of us (him, his college sweetheart and me). I told myself that he is going to come out of this. I told myself that my birthday wishes (“many, many more decades of togetherness with your college sweetheart”) has to hold. It has to. No questions about it.

As I went to sleep, I prayed for him and her. My horrifying experience from several years ago played itself out in slow motion in my dreams.

That fateful night, Kumar and I had dropped of a friend in the airport. Kumar was driving. I was in the passenger seat. We were driving back home. We turned right from the Decoto Road intersection to Mission Blvd in Union City, CA.

2 raccoons had decided to cross the street. In a split second, Kumar, (bless his gentle heart!), swerved to save their lives. Thump. Hit. One of the raccoon was hit. The other one was saved.

I woke up in a sweat. I went to get some water and prayed that he and his college sweetheart should be saved.

As an aside, I grew up in a Hindu household. I was taught that hurting any form of life (even it is insignificant in the food chain) in considered a sin.

Whenever I see a raccoon, my mind races to that fateful night. I wonder whether the two raccoons were mom & son, or mom & daughter, or dad & son, or dad & daughter or just 2 lovers strolling on the street in the middle of the night. There is nothing we could have done to save that raccoon. I know. But, forever, I will live in regret of that fateful night. Of separating 2 loved raccoon.

I didn’t have the heart to call Meera. I knew she would be flooded with calls and messages. So, I waited and prayed. I believed.

Meera called me on Sunday, Oct 19 afternoon. I was in the pasta aisle at Randalls. She delivered the news to me. I felt like my knees couldn’t hold me up anymore. Adi saw my face and rushed to my side. He put his arms around me. She hung up. I just stood there for a few minutes. I gathered up all the strength I had and walked the boys to the checkout stand. I drove back home and went through the summer party pictures again.

I worried. I worried how Meera and her family were going to deliver the news to his college sweetheart. I worried how his college sweetheart was going to live without him.

I told the news to Kumar that night. He was shocked and saddened.

Those people we see on the streets and crosswalk. They have a life. They have kids. They have grand kids. They have a future. They have a heart. That heart loves their loved ones. They are loved. They are adored. Very much.

Put down the cell phone when you are driving. Don’t multitask. Don’t answer calls. Don’t make calls. Don’t speed. Focus on the road. At all times.

Because, even if you are being extra cautious, the sun might blind you as you drive that bend and accidentally hit that elderly college sweethearts taking a stroll. Then, there is no going back. There is no way to hit rewind. Be cautious. Be careful. Pay attention.

Because, that person walking down the crosswalk might be somebody that you or I adore. That person might be somebody that you or I wish to spend more time with. That person might cook one of yours or my favorite dishes. That person might rule a certain portion of your heart or my heart. That person might be somebody you met a summer party. That person might be Dr. R. Anantaraman.

Please join me in praying for Meera’s family as they grieve the loss of Dr. R. Anantaraman, Retd. Professor of Anatomy at Madras Medical College.

Dr. R. Anantaraman is survived by his college sweetheart Tulasi, 4 children (and their spouses) Prem and Chitra, Neela and Baskar, Anoo and Parthi, Kumaran and Meera, many grand kids and a random girl that he met at a summer party.

Post notes from a student who knew Dr. RAR:

He came to the Anatomy department because he felt he could share his love for surgery by teaching surgical anatomy to young doctors (like me) who might live out his dream of becoming surgeons (like I did!)

I was his student. I benefited from his experience and knowledge. The last time I recall meeting him was when we left medical school, and had a farewell party to which all professors and teachers were invited. Since then, I lost touch with him.

– Student of Dr. RAR and Heart Surgeon