A Few Good Things

You also realize that being pregnant is not a big deal and that one can smooth sail through it, as our grandmothers have done while also working on a hundred other things. Junuka’s presence in my life has been invaluable, from being pregnant together to be the moms of feisty little girls. I have picked up a few values from her: her resilience, her artistic process which I deeply admire and the idealism which is like gold dust. I can shamelessly admit that I feel a bit stressed when I don’t see the family for a few days. With her and Ramya Iyer, I feel like I have made life-long friends, thanks to Leela.

Before I go on ranting about the value of friends (I have reached here after the anarchist/anti-social phase in my life), this year has been a rather difficult one for me. At the beginning of the year, the American Universities did not find my doctoral project worth spending their big dollars on. I was broke and disappointed and felt like I don’t want to pursue academics anymore. I also learned that some of my friends in universities abroad are not a happy lot either. It made me question the value of the Ph.D.’s that we do, at the end of which you pick up language that only you and a handful of people understand. Nevertheless, the only thing that draws me towards it is the time it takes to do a thesis, to put in say 4–5 years of good work into a topic with a slow but relentless commitment to an idea. The proposal has been modified, and yes, I spent more money on the applications at the end of the year, for I guess, at some time in my life I want to devote time to an inquiry just for the thrills.

The time of the flood in Kerala was a period of great anxiety. My uncle had to evacuate their home with my 83-year-old grandmother. All he could grab on his way out was her wheelchair and a few medicines. Water rose up to the ceiling, they lost all material possessions, next door my grand uncle lost his life. The flood waters opened the festering wounds of our society. Widespread misogyny became apparent in Sabarimala where a celibate god was alleged to lose all if women visit him. Man made the gods, man made the rules. Feminists, who were pretty much outcasts in the society began to be called ‘feminichi’- achi is a derogatory term denoting the wife and dragged into the public sphere to be ridiculed. But they stood their ground. The breed of Malayali women, their everyday radicalism and desire for liberation, the pulluvila that they give for public humiliation and private tormentors, made me feel proud to belong to a community. That, spurred on by the #metoo movement was a big blow to toxic masculinity, one that I got rid off from my life a long time ago. This was the year of protests and public events that brought women to the front in the most violent and visible manner.

Speaking of feminists, the addition of Shilpi Roy to the tribe served the purpose of vocalizing the causes that I was vehemently arguing for. Birthdays and festivals were spent together, all year, along with long weekends, brunches, design festivals, markets etc. Oh, I danced in public, which is new for me, bought a guitar and learning to play it and our neighbors may be hearing karaoke numbers more than what they need to.

As always, gratitude for my family piggybacks on the guilt that I have for being occasionally horrible to them, especially my father. As my brother says, put Pooja, Achan, and Amma in a room together, doom will strike. Which of course happened, on road trips in Abudhabi and Dubai where I embarrassed myself with my anger. At the end of the trip, waving our goodbyes at Kochi airport, my dad said tearfully to me, “Pooja, don’t be so angry”. With Leela, I understand what my parents go through. If only I could be the daughter that Leela has been for me…

My brothers have been champs and super achievers this year. Panku finished working on his doctoral research and is about to submit his thesis. I’m also excited to finally have Soniya Chandran, a sister in law to make up for the sister I never had. Let me share a secret with you about Bannu.

I also realized that apart from your parents and your brothers and in-laws, the extended family is a myth. I mean they exist, but very often they treat you like pin codes and phone numbers. And beyond a point, no one cares.

So this has been the year that is about to end in less than twelve hours. This was the year of the blue moon. I find reflecting on the past it to be a useful exercise, for somewhere in the cloud, it will be archived. Besides, I don’t think I have been able to say that I am happy today, as I have been on many days with a lot of effort from you.

Thank you.

Material possessions acquired: One dolphin head skull

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