Growing up in a Syrian Christian household in the charming, laid-back little town that Bangalore was in the 80s, life was all about relaxed Sunday brunches with the large family and extended family, listening to stories of life in the ancestral country home, of eccentric aunts, rebel uncles, and wayward cousins.
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Author: Kundhavee
Growing up in a Syrian Christian household in the charming, laid-back little town that Bangalore was in the 80s, life was all about relaxed Sunday brunches with the large family and extended family, listening to stories of life in the ancestral country home, of eccentric aunts, rebel uncles, and wayward cousins. Like these anecdotes the food was also in abundance – delicate laborious preparations of mutton, beef, fish and pork, for every single meal, with the eating and drinking continuing well into the wee hours.
My exposure to a culture outside my large extended circle came fairly late, and that too by way of marriage. I knew, despite my limited knowledge that a Hindu Tamil Brahmin family was going to take some getting used to for a dyed in the wool Syrian christian. A few initial outbursts from the families and a peaceful wedding later, I was ready to commence my life as a Tambram daughter-in-law in my husband’s home in Chennai.
A sample of what lay in store was revealed on the very first day, in fact still night for me, when I was trying to catch up on long lost sleep after a series of elaborate ceremonies. It must have been about 2 am, when I was woken up by the shuffle of footsteps outside our room. I turned back to sleep thinking someone was out to get a drink of water. However, soon, the footsteps intensified and became more purposeful , moving all over the house. Was something wrong, should I step outside, should I wake up the sleeping husband? Soon, the footsteps were followed by the faint sound of prayer bells and the smell of burning camphor. Why were prayers being offered in the middle of the night? Was it one more ritual being performed for the newly weds I should partake in? Before I could collect my thoughts, the activities reached a frenzied pace – the strong smell of freshly brewing filter coffee was followed by a mixer being operated and a fridge being opened and shut. The shrill whistle of the pressure cooker threw me off the bed along with my still sleeping husband. I turn on the lights and see that it is not 2 am but still an unearthly 4 45am – I look at the husband horror-stricken and narrate the events of the past ½ hour. He rolls over with laughter – nothing was wrong, it was his mother, getting her day started, like she have done every single day for the past 30 years. She has bathed, decorated the porch with an intricate kolam, consumed coffee and cooked an elaborate meal – all before the sun was up. By 7am , the newspaper will have been thoroughly read a few times over and the seven course meal of sambar, rasam, dal, vegetables prepared earlier on will have been consumed. What happens when it is daybreak for the rest of mankind? What does the family do then? It would be time for a mid-morning snooze, says the husband with a cool shrug. Thankfully, since the husband seems to cherish his morning nap more than most other pleasures in life, I knew once we returned to Bangalore where our normal day jobs were awaiting us, we would started living normally again.
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The introductory paragraph must introduce the central idea. The article needs structuring and formatting as the flow of thought is disjointed. The simple yet humorous style of writing helps draw in the reader from the start. The conclusion is abrupt and does match the leisurely pace and tone of the rest of the article. This write-up does not have too many grammatical errors, but a quick proofread would help improve the overall quality. This style of writing is best suited for a journal/ Blog writing.
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