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The kids go through a lot of confusion, since their mental make-up is different. I am no exception; I talk to my kids in Tamil everyday at least for an hour to make sure that my relatives feel a little comfortable when they visit them. My 3-year-old daughter tries reluctantly, since I promised her four silk
'pavadais' this time in India, and my son wanted to Our personal luggage consisted of clothes, personal 'sapadu', steel plate (for eating our meals), homework books, and copywriting books. I told my son about the lovely “Kuja” and meals carrier with six containers, and how our appetite would increase the moment the train started from the platform. Our mother either escorted us or the travel was linked with other friends and their mothers. With eyes wide open, we used to wait to enjoy the thrill of the train crossing the bridge over Krishna river, at midnight, and later dream of the lovely idli and vada accompanied by excellent coffee in a kuja at Bitragunta junction. And arrive in Chennai a couple of hours late with charcoal all over the body, and smelling of the train.
We made new friends, met many of our relatives since family functions were scheduled during vacations, wrote letters to our parents, and waited for letters from them.
I don’t know how to educate my kids that good relationship is not built overnight and it is based on sharing, acceptance and understanding which is possible only when you spend time with them. Relatives and friends are an integral part of our life and it is so valuable to make your life pleasant and joyful. You share, learn and grow with them and you cannot buy this feeling in a supermarket nor build it overnight? I know this is not taught in Harvard. So I send my kids to Chennai whenever possible and make it a point that they spend a few days with their cousins under the same roof. I know it will not go waste and given a chance I would like to roll back to my old innocent days where only the heart ruled the mind and not money as today. Published on 10th June 2002 Previous Articles
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Copyright
2008, Chennai Interactive
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Summer holidays start in USA when it ends in India. Kids pack their books, attend graduation ceremonies, and most of them get enrolled for summer camps. Not because it is very exciting, but the parents have no choice since they can't leave the kids at home particularly when the couple is working full time. I remember my father’s statement about small families having big problems and joint families having joint problems. Many Indian families fly to India to spend the vacations with other family members, wondering how to keep the kids busy in India. It is not so simple, for you need to book the tickets in advance considering the low fare and peak fare season, coordinate your holidays, talk to kids about lifestyles, habits, respecting elders, protocols, etc.
know how my summer holidays were during my childhood days. I told my son that I don’t have evidence to prove how different our activities were and he had to check it with his aunts when he met them. Everything that was reality has become history in a span of 30 years. My contemporaries will recall and agree the human touch involved in every activity during our summer holidays. The agenda for the summer vacation was pretty straightforward with a lot of excitement. We used to live in Hyderabad and our destination was Chennai for the simple reason most of our cousins and relatives used to live there. The fun started from obtaining railway concession forms, getting train reservations, sleeping in upper births, facing the charcoal pieces blowing out of the steam engine, fighting for window seats, watching crossing of trains, platform canteens, eating in the lovely meals plate (closed steel plates), etc.
It was a re-union of cousins, and we slept in a big hall, eating together, sitting in a row and making sure we cleaned our plates, washed our clothes, discussed cricket and argued about our favorite players, preserved paper cuttings from The Hindu and Sports & Pastime. We used to live in the suburban area right across the railway track, and our daily routine was based on schedules of trains which crossed our place. Coffee was always taken after watching Nilgiris Express entering Chennai, morning breakfast (curd rice with mavadu) after watching Brindavan Express, lunch after Mangalore Mail crossed us, and dinner after watching Trivandrum Mail. Our excitement had no bounds when we visited Marina Beach (which included eating sundal, killimukku manga), a visit to the Zoo and Moore Market, and a ride in the electric train to Tambaram.
Our elder cousin brother who had access to money was gracious enough to treat us with kadalai mitaai (which was known as Manila kadalai mitaai), Kamarkattu from a potti kadai near the vegetable shop, which was taboo due to hygienic reasons but the taste was
irresistible. Our summer vacation had its own nightmares and sour experiences too. Who can forget the compulsory drinking of castor oil handled by a strict senior member of the family, which no one could escape. Also witness a couple of cousins getting beatings for rebelling and this ritual was followed by lovely rasam rice and a special chutney. The oil bath, every 10 days, with the most crude of sikkai (traditional shampoo) was also a must. The routine consisted of doing the holiday homework, learning Tamil, reading and writing, etc. We learnt basic tailoring; girls learnt kolam, embroidery, a little cooking from the elders and so on.
Trees and plants surrounded the house with abundance of mangoes, coconuts, and lemons to fill our appetite whenever we wanted. One fine day we got a postcard about our school results and information about the school re-opening day for us to pack our luggage and get back home. Years have rolled by; cousins have become senior citizens, and every time I visit my cousins they struggle to re-introduce me and my children to their children. You find apartments everywhere, space restriction, relatives pre-occupied with their priorities and problems. I hear their voice, “So when is the next visit, Madras vandha phone pannuppa, mudinja vittuku vaa." I can’t blame them! I can’t even say 'Mudinja USAku vandhitu po.' Yes I love to see them again and eat curd rice and addai with them, for what matters is love and emotions, which is time tested and built through the years.
