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Traveling 30 kilometres to and from the workplace the last three years astride a large motorized scooter hasn’t done anything for my lower spine and hips. Things came to a head when I pulled an unnameable muscle which I aggravated by trying to sit cross legged (not on the scooter, silly, on the floor!) I’m not sure if I partially dislocated my right hip, but it certainly felt like it. The net result is that I’m now forced to sit side saddle when riding pillion.
The advantages? I get to see the world go by face on, not in the periphery of my vision. I get amazed, questioning looks and I can almost read the owners’ thoughts – “Is she for real?” “Why the heck is she wearing a helmet when she doesn’t have to?” You see, even though there are plenty of helmeted women driving two-wheelers, female pillion riders wearing armor are a rarity. I have seen exactly two so far – yes, two – besides myself – one works with me and the other was a passing stranger.
A light drizzle turns into a heavy shower and the rain drums on my helmet. I drift off into a daydream… I am rushing headlong into a hidey hole to take refuge from a marauding tribe. To my horror, I’m in a huge drum that they then use to broadcast my escape. Thump! Thump! Thump! I can’t bear it any longer and I stagger out, head reeling… Shades of Phantom and the Jungle Telegraph? I did warn you, Thurber and Walter Mitty are men after my heart and imagination… I’m brought back to reality by a hard pull on my arm. Hubby’s stopped the scooter and is trying to take shelter from the wet…
The rain’s let up now and we’re back on the road. At the next traffic signal. a local yokel on a flashy red mobike roars to a stop beside us. I try to suppress a smile – the posture he adopts reminds me of a circus chimp on a bicycle. I’ve neglected to wear “The Mummy” disguise for once and he catches the ghost of a grin and misunderstands, because… horrors! He throws me what I take to be an amorous look and proceeds to preen like he’s the cat’s whiskers!
He’d stop that in a hurry and vanish in a trail of burning rubber and exhaust if I just took off that helmet… to reveal a soft blue cotton cap that looks rather like underwear minus two holes. (A neighbor’s toddler actually pulled on a pair of his over his head in a parody of us. His mother yanked it off, throwing us a accusatory look.)
Next I could pull off the cap to reveal my grey locks and that would really shake Monkey Man/ Cat Boy off I’m sure! Meanwhile he could audition for a sequel to the “Fantastic Four”, called perhaps “The Furry Five”!
Another time someone blares his horn continuously behind us – most irritating because we are going at a fair clip – I turn my head slightly to the left and fix the car with what I hope is a baleful glare. It works. He stops honking. But now I’m assailed by doubt – has the driver behind the tinted windows given up on leaning on the horn because he’s too busy wiping tears of laughter from his eyes at the spectacle before him (me – this time in “The Mummy” wrappings)…
© Sosha Srinivasan
As I mentioned in my previous post, I am an avid reader. I am especially enamored of books that are hard bound. Take off that dust cover and you get a glowing jewel – ruby or perhaps jade green or deep blue with indented letters in gilt. It feels heavy and solid and somehow rooted in your hands. The best thing is tha pages don’t break away from the spine as they do in paperbacks.
In January 2006, I read in a local paper that there were used hardcover books to be had for I Rs 50 only (USD 1.10) outside the premises where the Chennai Book Fair was being held. I rushed over. I was over the moon when I realized ot was true! I snapped up about 50 of which 40 were Reader’s Digest Condensed Books. Of course I remembered to ask for the chappie’s business card and I made sure I visited his shop atleast every 2 months since. My collection has since burgeoned to 100… The list is on my Books Read pages. I read more than half of them in 2006. 
Then I was struck by a doubt – perhaps this was just the tip of the used book market I’d unearthed – was I losing out on choice by restricting myself to one dealer… So I googled – second hand books Chennai – and up popped a kindred spirit – Mrs Fife, who seems to wander quite far south in search of those beautiful tomes. Though I don’t share her primary obsessions of crocheting or knitting (cross stitch, a bit of tapestry and macrame with a couple of soft toys thrown in is as adventurous as I have got so far in that department), I was hooked (!) by her humorous turn of phrase… here’s to more of her kind.
Talking of humor, James Thurber is absolutely one of my faves – I’ve re-read The Secret Life of Walter Mitty several times and it never fails to raise a laugh. Ditto for The Catbird Seat.
Like Mrs Fife I enjoy British more than American authors – Daphne du Maurier, Mary Stewart, Gervase Phinn (Up and Down in the Dales is a hilarious must read), Marcia Willett, … Then why is it that two of my all time fave books are by Americans – Jack Schaefer’s Shane and Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird? Does it have something to do with the fact that I read them in my early to mid teens and they made a terrific dent in my impressionable teen psyche? Still trying to figure that one out!
So what the progress on the pals from IST I was trying to get back in touch with? Morten and I mail each other quite regularly, once or twice a week – he called Dar-es Salaam “paradise”. My son says we should visit Tanzania – but I know it won’t be the same – Places, like people change, often to be unrecognizable – and after almost three decades? No, I think I’ll stay with the memories so beautifully blurred at the edges. Now don’t misunderstand – it wasn’t all that hunky dory when you push away the nostalgia – there were plenty of miserable moments too. Racism, for instance, was quite rampant among several students cliques and perhaps a few teachers. We just kept away from them and made friends with those who were not.
I managed to trace one of the best teachers I’ve had the good fortune to know. Mr Wolpert took Math – not one of my favorite subjects, but just his sheer enthusiasm and verve made me work hard. His approach to teaching was fun – he was and still is an inspiration to me. I used some of the concepts he used when I taught. He’s still teaching - now in Pennsylvania.
I mailed Anna at her office – no reply yet becaiuse she is “out of office” till the 16th. I called DuBois – and couldn’t get through – probably will have to resort to snail mail.
Finally I traced another classmate, John. He is a physician now living in Texas and he mailed me back – catching up. This reconnect was especially poignant since our families knew each other very well – Syrian Christians from Kerala.
© Sosha Srinivasan
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