Letters of a life , denied.

First is always special..... Yes My first blog.....

I had tried my hands at short stories for the first time......

I took the base of the story from one of my favourite blogger... unknown....

Letters of a denied life ….

Prologue :

Letters of a Telugu girl , who lives in Chicago , addressing to her father , who denied her love to a Tamil boy . Yet leading an allegedly perfect life. 

Some Telugu and Tamil words used in between.

Dearest Nana,

15^th  December, 1977.

Hope you all are doing fine. Me and Hari reached here safely. I am still not out of the jet lag nana. It is biting frozen out here. Still “ayina chepthaaru “, I have missed the killing snow ani. I would have loved watching snow. Yet I wish I had not left Chennai nana. I miss you,  amma , Anu , Gauthami ,   my bestest friend pavithra ,todhunter nagar,  ethiraj college , Gemini bridge , my department, 23c bus . Ofcourse , Bala. I know you wished I hadn’t brought his name here .

I still remember, amma was trembling with fear , when I entered home that DAY. I could sense the situation when I saw konkura pachadi on your plate had stained amma’s venkatagiri saree. You were a manic that day. But I should agree , that you gave me all genuine reasons for me to NOT marry Bala. Yes, Anu and Gauthami would have been greatly affected by my ‘gaffe’ … but  why at all you didn’t like Bala… I know Nana , because he was not from Telugu speaking family , because he was dark skinned , because his dad couldn’t impress you by showing off his prosperity and property like OTHERS did.

On the other hand, Hari was an engineer , dealing with computer thing , America and importantly he was Potti Srinivasalu’s son Potti Harinarayana. These things made you jump for this alliance. When this was happening .. How can even I imagine, Natarajan’s son Balachander to Marry Dhalavai Narasimhalu ‘s daughter Shravani. Atrocious ain’t it , nana?

Do you know , that Bala could speak Telugu. He learnt it for ME. Flawless, he speaks. Yet , he was Son of Natarajan , your long-time friend and not some lu’s son. Leave that….It was a fantasy that I left midway in chennai!

Tell Amma that I couldn’t  try her “Pacha Pappu Payasam”  for Karthika Deepam , since Jaggery is very expensive here, and Hari felt it was absurd. Anyhow, we went out with Mukherji’s family. Mukherji‘s wife gave me a unfriendly look  initially , I felt. She spoke English in an accent that comes with living years in America. Hari was talking in his confident butler English.  Only after coming here I learnt , he even  speaks telugu horribly . Horrible is an understatement. To camouflage it , maybe he was talking all the time in broken English.

Ok. Ask amma if she can  send “annam podi’ and  “chaaru podi” for this whole year? Because only thing I get stimulated with is FOOD, nowadays. Hari’s friend Dhamu is coming to Hyderabad next week and you can catch a charminar express to drop it to him when he returns back. Please find picture postcards attached herewith.

Your Loving Daughter,

Shravani

Dear Nana,

19^th June, 1979.

We are doing fine. Ashwin started speaking his initial words. I bet, it sounded like ‘ammumma’ but Hari claims it is gibberish. I am so happy to hear that Anu is very happy and settled with her husband in Hyderabad. I spoke to her. Good know? She has got a phone in her home. She told me that Pavithra also got married and settled in Vellore. Please write her address to me. I want to keep in touch nana , for her being the only person who knows how much I loved Bala. I used to pester her 24*7 with Bala Puraanam.

Anu also told me that Bala is married now. Somehow, I couldn’t take it. How Mean, I am. I hear that his wife is his cousin. He should have complied with his mothers wishes. I am happy that his wife is an engineer and not a stupid arts graduate like I do.

How did Ugadi go? I made ugadi pachadi. It was nice but I couldn’t get anywhere near Mom’s one . Hari’s friends came home. I was about to offer them the pachadi. Hari stopped me saying it was unhygienic. How can even a telugu guy exist not knowing the significance of it? I wondered. I remember , how all us couldn’t wait for amma to finish the pooja , for us to have the pachadi. There was another soul waiting to taste that elixir on every ugadi day. That one also expected me to say the significance of pachadi , every year. Puluppu , Karam , Chedhu, theepu kalisi vundedhe Jeevitham . Neither  was he tired of hearing it nor was I of telling.

Hari is making sure that Ashwin grows up hearing English only. He feels that it will make his life easier out here in Chicago. But I read Bharathiyar poems and Kannadhasan lyrics to him. How meaningful are those! Thanks to you Nana. You only advised me to read those TAMIL poems and listen to those sculptural tamil songs lyrics of Kannadhasan. It gives me more deep meanings now than then. 

One of these days, ashwin gave an assuring smile and nodded when I read these lines to him:

Aayiram vaasal idhayam

Adhil Aayiram Enangal udhayam

Yaaro varuvaar yaaro Irupaar

Varu vadhum Povadhum Theriyadhu

Oruvar mattum kudiyirandhal

Ondrum kavalaiillai

Ondrikka ONDRU vandhaal

Endrum amaidhi Illai………….

God only knows if he understood the meaning of the sentence. Then, I saw  YOU in Ashwin . I think even he will like the tamil language like we do. You had so much love for that language. But why were you not able to accept “My Tamil Magan “.I know… You would have horrified by reading the “MY”. I couldn’t help it nana.

Ok. I forgot to tell you something. Once, I was reading my most treasured book “Arthamulla hindhu madham” , not just for Kannadhaasan but for the fact that it was a gift from Bala.  Hari  saw his sculpturing signature encrypted on the book. He asked me. I told him. Now, hold  your breath… He was cool. He didn’t take it seriously. Infact, he told me about his girlfriend named ‘Franciska’, they were living-together during his college days it seems and somehow, decided not to marry. That lady once came home. Nice lady she was.

Not much details to furnish this time.

Please make sure amma also writes some sentences in forthcoming letters. I envisage all of you on touching the letters….

Yours much much beloved,

Shravani

Dearest Nana,

1^st November, 1981

I hope you came out of the demise of your favourite people. Kannadhasan and Natarajan uncle. October 17^th  1981 was indeed a black day. Incredible know… both Kannadhasan and Kannadhasan’s Daasan died on same day. Uncle definitely should have died because of sudden grief over Kannadhasan’s death. You know Kannadhasan died just 20 minutes away from my place. I yearned to rush to hospital , but in vein. Hari denied.

I blasted out into crying that day , Nana. I claimed it was for Kannadhasan , but actually for Natarajan uncle. What a Man he was!!!! Even now, he forms the imagery of a father-in-law in my psyche. I remember calling him “Mavayya” mentally when he passes along and get gratified, during those days. His starry looks and face always reminded me of Bala. Not only that. I love that whole family. Aunty.. the one who shares a special relationship with the our nagar pillaiyar, Prabhu annayya .. stable and a calm person.. Uma (my sister-in-law figure) akka…a self contented and an interesting person. They all in common shared a quality .. Modesty… Did any of us think that there could be two amazing doctors and one amazing engineer out of that so very simple and composed family. All three of them have been beautifully reared up by those two – uncle & aunty. I attach with everything around them Nana. Bala’s old cycle , their blue umbrella , aunties bright yellow n red saree , uma akka’s jean shirt , thanjavur n everything. Even Bala doesn’t know that I loved his family so much. Tears rolling down… Awaiting your reply..

Your Serene daughter,

Shravani

Dear Nana,

12^th February , 1992.

We all are doing fine here. We still are finding it very difficult to settle down to this place after spending two months in Chennai. Ashwin and Ananya still ask for kaaralu , booralu and antiaakku bojanam. All three of us had wonderful time, but Hari is relieved only after reaching here.  

I got the present address of Bala. I wrote to him. He was extremely pleased to hear from me after so long. I was very excited to know that Dr.Balachander was a famous cardiologist in Chennai. I am proud that the first heart he researched was mine. Virtually ofcourse (Sigh!!!). He called me. He asked whether I am still practising music.. I could see a proud father in him when he claimed that his daughters could sing “ RA RA VENU GOPA BALA”.. you know what he named his daughters ..Shravani and Sampoorni. He still speaks in that flawless telugu. Only after talking him to I realised , that once , was I a good singer. Why did I leave my music unpractised? Because I left Chennai? No. Because I lost my diehard Rasigan. Bala.

I tried singing  bomma bomma thaa… B’s favourite. I couldn’t reach the very charanam not because of lack of practise. But my throat was constrained and my eyes were filled with tears. I wish to start practising music all over again nana. Do not forget  to send me a shruthi box next time.

Nana , Don’t get upset that I am still obsessed with Bala. Your daughter is matured enough to realize the reality. It is too much to wish more than this. Husband - an engineer.. an American life.. a comfortable income.. lovely children…. in Indian societies perception.. perfect life know .I reiterate, Hari is a nice man. He is to every bit a son-in-law YOU wanted. I am happy with my life.

To gauthami , I referred a gynaecologist that Bala referred me. Ask her to go meet her. Wish to hear a “good news” from her soon.

Yours lovingly,

Shravani…

Dearest Nana,

28^th December 1999.

We are just back from our Europe tour. It was good. But I missed my music classes. You believe nana.. I am making telugu, tamil , malayali , Bengali , hindi and Spanish kids sing Telugu keerthanas so well… lovely kids are these..I am feeling a reborn Shravani. Thanks to Bala.

Hari bought a brand new portable computer in a new year sale that costed a bomb shell. To catch up the price, he has arranged an informal exhibition at my place.  He is proclaiming that he is the first one, in his friends circle and our relative circle, to buy a portable computer. Not knowing the fact that Bala is having once since 1997. I couldn’t state that to Hari , for all obvious reasons.

After So so long , I saw Bala. He gave a courtesy visit , in middle of his tour to uma akka’s and Prabhu annaya’s place. They are here too. My children and Hari liked Bala so much. In fact ,they did most of the talking. He bought thoughtful gifts for Hari , Ashwin , Ananya AND Of course for ME. He got me loads of gifts… books , cassettes , silk saree , n my forgotten favourite sweet Dhandra (Mango Jelly). 

He just looked like heightened version of  Natarajan uncle. So handsome he was. Just a snap of his presence in my life made so much difference. What if……Sigh!!! I gifted back some electronics items to his family and to him. I couldn’t be as thoughtful as he did. All these years of America has eaten away my brain and creativity.

Happy New Year and Happy Millennium!!!!

Yours affectionately

Shravani

Dearest Nana,

July 18^th 2001

These entire letters were lying in my closet draw. These were letters that I wrote you and decided not to post though I was burning to. For, I didn’t want to mention Bala to you. It is   not that it will invite your ferocity but because I, seriously, does not have a heart to hurt you. I know that deep inside, you understand that Bala was a man of matter. I heard that how bleak you looked when you entered Bala’s house for Uncle’s death and how you had uncontrollable tears when you neared his body. BUT WHY NANA. Societies scoffing … I know… Family Image… I know… Caste Difference.. I know. Your fear for all these illusions has costed me a life. You promised me that day that I would have a perfect life. Is it with this monthly letters that I send to you or with a materialistic person like Hari? I don’t think I ever will get answered for  I am addressing it to Dhalavai Naramsimhalu (Late). But writing letters is all that  I can do to vent out my agony over the death of first two best men in my life.

Love you NANA…

Your ever loving daughter,

Shravani…

P.S: I write this letter intentionally today as a birthday remembrance of Bala, who left us six months back as he couldn’t survive a liver failure. God is merciless.. Life is clueless!!!

                                        

 

DEDICATION

To all the women, who had sacrificed their LOVEly life for the sake of their families and still claiming that they lead a happy life. It’s NOT life. It’s just a COMPROMISE for some and a yawning PAIN for rest.