12B

There was a time when a typical Agraharam raised boy (aka me) went through growing pains. Something any boy his age should go through no doubt, but being raised in a very conservative family posed a set of unique challenges.

When we finished 10th standard (sophomore year in high school if those US readers are expecting a translation), the craze among students was to attend IIT coaching classes. The regular curriculum was a challenge in itself, but the majority of the kids seemed to be signing up for online, offline, inline and way out of line coaching classes for Physics, Mathematics and Chemistry for the Indian Institute of Technology Joint Entrance Exam.

There were many reputed College professors and independent tutors who specialized in doing this extra curricular coaching with various success rates and unofficial rankings and had waiting lists to join their coaching classes. Rumor had it that at some point the top seeded "Balu Sir" had a wait list that went for four years or that was the joke. By the time you got into his class and got through the IIT JEE, your friends would have graduated from the IIT!

Well, I was fortunate enough to go meet Balu Sir at his house with my grandfather. Still remember it vividly where grandpa took me with him and when we reached the house, got a big "taambalam" (metal plate) out of his bag, placed a bunch of fruits, some other auspicious stuff and asked me to hand it to Balu Sir and do a Namaskaram.

They had a conversation after asking me to leave the room. Next thing I know, I am in! Must have been impressed with my gobi sandana pottu and "abivadhaye" and my puppy dog look and said "why not?" or my grandfather impressed the teacher more than me, which was most likely the reason.

Grandpa knew a thing or two about making teachers happy and between him and Balu Sir, they taught me how to do that for the rest of my life. Years later my sister learned Physics from him and he apparently told his class "Sundararaman your brother, was the example for implicit obedience!".

The easy part was getting into the class. The difficult part was getting to the class. How could a boy who has no bicycle, no bicycling experience (other than riding friends bikes without knowledge of relatives), no experience in going from Mandaiveli to Mambalam by bus alone in late hours go to this class.

"No way!" said grandma.

"Over my dead body.Never!" said Mom.

"How dare you?" said the rest of the family to grandpa..

Look at the local news today "boy on cycle killed by head on collision with truck in purasaiwakkam" said my uncle and it looked like the whole IIT coaching thing would have to be forgotten.

Grandpa did not lose hope. He decided to get me a cycle first. Like those ballroom dancing movies where a star dancer displays a total lack of co-ordination in the early part of the movie only to win the championship in the climax, I started showing rapid progress in my cycling abilities around the street and my family seemed to be genuinely amused by my amazing skill progression. Still, the trip from Mandaiveli to Mambalam was ruled out..

Too many boys dying in bicycle accidents reported in the Hindu newspapers local section! IIT Math coaching classes would have helped me prove that as a percentage of boys riding bikes on truck infested roads, the deaths were miniscule, but considering there was only one of me for the family, any logic attempting to explain it with math would have been useless with the "thaikulam".

In current parlance I was in effect, what would be referred to mockingly as "vayasu payyan", without a moustache!

Literally had to roll on the floor and throw a tantrum to get a plan back in action for attending the class. My grandpa knew how much this meant to me. Did not know what attending an IIT was or anything more about IIT's. Had been to the campus a few times and that was it. Did not know engineering from anything else either. It was peer pressure to show that I could also sit with cyclostyled sheets of questions and do problems from Resnick and Halliday that got me going? But grandpa understood that this was his grandson trying to make a statement!

So he lobbied for me and declared "We always have 12B and 12C. Drops him right outside the cemetary on St. Mary's road and he should be here in no time". Even took me with him to the class location for a dry run on the public bus. We went around the same time as the class was supposed to happen and that is where I caught a lucky break.

The 12B did not show up on time! After waiting and waiting we finally got back home at 10:00PM. The family was worried. How was this "ulagam theriyaadha vayasu payyan" (young and naive boy) to go do this trip by himself ?!

Grandpa, the genius, suggested that I go with a bunch of friends on my bicycle. One chap had to cross our house to go and come back, so it would be convenient for us to go ride together. He vouched for me and backed me till the rest of the family agreed to it. To this day very grateful that he did.

No one knows what is in store for them when they are young. Life takes you places. Experiences open your mind or close your mind to other experiences. One thing leads to another and you get to the present!

A delayed 12B, a friend who had been raised in Liberia as a child agreeing to cycle with me, an entire family of people who had never been on an airplane who agreed that Liberia friend trumps 12B, a long forgotten world from a long time ago...

For the longest time was wondering if this happened only to me.. apparently not! Was at a friends place over the weekend when we found that he had a similar experience with his family. There are other boys who had curfew when it came to going on PTC buses after dark! Almost reached out and hugged him..

Now that makes me feel great, decades after all this happened!

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Bike rides

Now that the whole family is chipping in to make daddy healthy again, we have a routine. Mom drives the kids to some local park while daddy gets to bike to the same park, spend some time there and bike back. If daddy is too tired, they just throw the bike in the van and everyone drives back.

We did this four times in the last seven days. While most of the parks are only 1.3-2.5 miles away, it was still an ordeal for the biker since he was so badly out of shape and was still on steroids. (there was an advice from the doctor to not have any heavy exercise till the end of the dose)!

Now that the tablets are all over, today the family decided to go from Cupertino to Sunnyvale to visit Ortega park. Daddy made it in one piece after driving almost 8 miles.

On the one hand it is a crying shame, that a guy who, just six years ago, had a wolf stomach, and was athletic enough to win dance competitions, is now declaring that he is happy enough to be able to bike eight miles on local roads. This is just a start! Hope is that some day, this post will be looked back and laughed at, when the eight mile drive is a breeze.

On the other hand, this post is a reminder to all those who in the name of other priorities, forget to exercise, then blame it on kids, work, lack of time, stress or whatever other creative reasons they can come up with, only to realize late in the game that they only have themselves to blame for their poor health!

Don't wait for the clouds to open and an "Asariri"(oracle, voice from heaven) to come and tell you to start exercising again! It is really not worth the wait.

The side effects of the drugs have all been right on, when it comes to what the pamplet said. Euphoria, insomnia, rage, weird hair growth, depression, hyperactivity, etc. etc. The whole gamut of what one can put a family through, in the name of a cure! San and the girls were prepped though, for all the side effects, and being all girls, they helped cope with daddy's side effects by doing more of what they do with daddy.. Ignore him!

The little one says "Daddy, you are sleepy because you ate Manduru?". She doesn't know how to say marundhu(Tamizh for medicine), and instead says Manduru.

The girls love to pass daddy in the van as he is on his bike and scream "come on daddy, catch up" or "faster daddy, faster".

All said and done, we are all thrilled. The wheezing is gone and the Diamondback Insight simply rocks!!

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Trying times

Had many a funny thought in edit mode over the last week, but somehow, never could get in the mood to post anything. No matter how busy at home or work, have always managed to post something here at least once a week.

Yet, once in a while things happen, so fast and in succession that you are just reacting at every level. Last week was one such week.

A colleague died of heart failure. He was 51 years old. Have not managed to get over it. He is already cremated and the funeral service is done and all we have is a plant at home which is now somehow associated with him. His family had requested that we give a live plant instead of flowers! When this was explained to the little one at home, she now points to a plant and goes "is that him?". I guess it is him, now that she constantly keeps reminding me.

Then San's aunt passed away. She was my MIL's closest cousin. San's uncle happens to be my FIL's cousin. As two brothers from one family marrying two sisters from another, they were all very close. San's aunt was struggling with kidney failure, had a transplant, and was living on dialysis for 15 years! She was an inspiration to all of us. She was only 54 years old! The very next day after she passed away, MIL flew back to India!

The kids have now come up with a song which they were singing on their own. (it would make one depressing videoblog). It goes something like this..

Bombay is in India
and we are so sad
Bombay is in India
and we are so sad
Bombay is in India
won't you get her back
1,2,3
she will be back again..

Jr. is a genius. She knew the last line didn't rhyme, and so made a real sad face to compensate for it. The sisters also sing the first two lines in chorus to give an added pleading effect. Maybe she was trying to cheer us up with her antics and song, sensing that the adults in the house are just brooding!

Just when we try to get things going again, open Google and see that Randy Paush passed away as well and that somehow seemed to be the straw that broke the camel! Not that we know Randy personally or anything, but the fact that we have been following his blog and his determined fight with pancreatic cancer and how the words "passed away" would keep resonating in our heads for a straight week! just sent the mood spiralling down.

Last evening, San realized that we could not stay in the house anymore. So we decided to cheer ourselves and the kids by taking them out to the beach. Thanks to the cousins, who came up with an idea to go to the Pidgeon Lighthouse on route 1, we drove for almost 2 hours, saw the lighthouse, let the kids play at Gazos creek and had dinner at a small but beautiful restaurant in Gazos creek.

That was definitely a turn around point. At least it took our minds off the departed for some time and got to see the kids smile and get back to ground zero.

This morning, we went Bike shopping. Yes, Bike shopping.

There have been a couple of new resolutions passed in the house after attending the funeral service.

1. Daddy is giving up his addiction to curly fries. Almost every day when he is at work in the lunch table, he orders a plate of curly fries and puts them in the middle for everyone to share. But fact is that he eats the lions share of the fries. Many a time his dead friend would remark "those things can kill you, you know!". Now that the warning is as real as it can get, no more daily curly's. Maybe, once a month, or at a restaurant....

2. There will be exercise! Hence the bike shopping. The whole family went and visited every bike store in the santa clara, sunnyvale, san jose, cupertino area, found out what daddy needs, and got him a bike. (Jr. has threatened not to get in the van if we ever visit one more bike store. She got really tired at the end, especially when she realized that the whole exercise was for daddy and none of the bikes being selected by her or the little one were being taken seriously by either parent). We now have a Diamondback Insight which daddy already tested in Shoreline park earlier today, and is very very happy with the bike.

3. The per capita potato consumption of this family will be reduced by 50% over the next quarter. Most of it is being consumed by daddy today and he will have to do the brunt of the reducing. Considering that daddy lives on potato, cooked in various shape or form, mostly involving a lot of oil, this reduction might send his body into potacalyptic shock! Maybe my system is a well "oiled" machinery and one fine day when we decide to take the oil and the grease out, it might start squeaking a little.. Only time will tell.

It has been one roller coaster week.

The most profound realization of the week was NOT things that cross my mind in passing like

1. Here today, gone tomorrow
2. We are here for our kids
3. It is important to stay fit
4. Stressing out over little things is not worth it

etc. etc.

These thoughts constantly cross my mind, but somehow subconsciously, I have succesfully learnt to put them in the background and keep moving.

The one thing that I did realize was how much I put San through by not taking care of my health. Somehow we have gotten used to our fights over my health that it feels like a rerun! This weekend, saw her face go really pale, when I mentioned that it has finally dawned on me that "I" should take better care of my health. For once, she did not go into the usual "I have been saying it since the day we got married. blah blah blah.." speech. She just sat there with a look on her face that said "Whatever. If you have realized it for real, I am happy for you!". It was a face that was tired of telling me, again and again.

Here is to hope, less potato, Sundar turning a new leaf.

May all those departed souls rest in peace!

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