Shedding beliefs!

Subramanyan sasthrigal came home. It was a constant jabber from patti in the morning to have an early bath and have breakfast before he arrived with his ponytail and the grey ash spread lavishly all over him. When he arrived in his moped he looked like god’s messenger definitely. Its only to him have I seen appa being so disgustingly meek and sober! First of all the idea of the early rise, all the preparations at home that was focused on the new thread that my dad and my bro were going to wear on this day of 'avani avittam' was close to a big joke for me for a variety of reasons. Owing to the acting skills that my bro picked up in school he managed the most serious looks for appa and sasthrigal mama! The whole ceremony of changing the sweat filled, dirty thread that was worn throughout the year, was another back breaking and sweaty episode of mantras and pouring water from one panja pathram to another and finally pouring everything in a huge ‘thambalam’(I might have got this part mixed up!)! It did not end there! Wait! The thread itself was held like you were going to shoot a rubberband skywards-stretched and vertically apart! Break! Mama’s filter coffee arrived at that moment. Bad luck to the men in my life! Stay that way as sasthrigal mama finishes his ‘davara degree kapi’ made with the greatest reverence by amma, sampled by patti and finally burped off by sasthrigal mama!

One thing is pretty vivid in my memory! Subramanya sasthrigal, his dad Krishnan mama and god knows anyone else in that lineage- all of them hated the rude and curt stares I gave them. They could tell I did not have the same reverence as the people in my house. After an hour and half of mantras chanted(I suspect my bro only did lip movement!), the dirty, smelly and brown thread was replaced by a new crispy  and clean white one.

Subramanya sasthrigal then spoke loud(very loud as he knew everyone in this household thought he was god’s marvel creation who actually needed to be treated like Lord Krishna himself!) with appa about economic growth, the karunanidhi-Jayalalitha wars, the Rajinikanth fan pandal that was so noisy and then of course mistakenly remembered to tell appa and bro to do the Gayathri mantram the next day. Quite religiously the idlis and vadas were served on the banana leaf along with coconut chutney(pretty much standard…unless patti felt she must add venpongal to this list). It ended with payasam-adapradhaman most of the time-my highlight for the day!

Every year this man asked me the most annoying question of my life..” samaikka theriyuma(do you know cooking?)?!” He seriously had guts. Beyond my absolutely unmistakable, discourteous looks, he seemed to find a way to ask this question. Not over! It was always accompanied with the most annoying smirk because he knew the answer. This question is a clear representation of the sickening male chauvinism!It told you that women just need to do that and may be only that!  My dad would smile amusedly to lighten my spirits. I just told him “No” in Tamil and got on with the book I was reading! I can burn him with my words but I won't as appa will never forgive me for that! Daddy was his cross!

The next day as I sneak into my bro’s room to whack his racquet, I could see he was up already. Throwing a quick glance at the room, I rush out. As I leave the front gate, I see him sitting in the garden swing, drinking his narasus kapi and reading the Sports page of the Hindu. “Your thread is lying under the pillow. Pick it up before Gayathri japam and wear it!”, I warned him as I left to the school bus that was honking.

I simply don’t see the point. The point of all the fuss!