Airavata Microblog Hop

#Airavata

#AiravataMicroblogHo

#Airavata1bloghop

#PachydermTales

#UkiyotoPublishing

#Mayaakathawherestoriesdance

#AiravataMayaakathaPachydermtales

Author Name: Revathi Srinivasan

Book Name: Airavata

Author Introduction:

Revathi Srinivasan is a classical dance teacher and a freelance content writer. Though she has been writing her heart out for many years, writing stories and tiny tales is her newfound passion A die-hard fan of Indian movies coupled with perennial love for dance and music drags her into dramatic writing emphasising human emotions. She has been a part of the following anthologies: Tea with a drop of honey (by The HIVE), Mixed Bag (by The HIVE), Universes (by Penmancy) and Airavata (by Mayakatha). She regularly writes short stories, poems and articles for various online portals.

Story Title: All in a night’s time

‘All in a night’s time’ is my first ever attempt at a children’s story. It was not only an enjoyable experience but my daughter being a beta reader added to the joy.

Like most fables, I wanted to give an important moral yet keep kids glued to reading. In my story, little Kanna is overjoyed to see the outside world for the first time. She is so engrossed in the charm of the surroundings, that she strays away from her mother, Yashoda. Consequently, Kanna embarks on an adventurous journey. Will she reunite with her mother? Do read Airavata to learn more.

#AiravataAnthology #Airavata1microbloghop #StoriesWithMayakatha 

About Airavata:

Airavata anthology is a book written by 44 writers including children, a project by Mayaakatha, where Stories Dance – a platform for Storytelling in association with Pachyderm Tales and published by Ukiyoto Publishing.

Edited by

Deepti Sharma

Preeti S Manaktala

Shristee Singh

Foreword by Siddhartha Satpathy

Cover design by Satinder Ahuja

Kindle copy and Paperback are up on Amazon.

Grab your copy to read or gift.

Buy your copy here

“This blog post is part of the Airavata1microbloghop hosted by MeeraVBarath”

https://meerasoasis.com/airavata1-microblog-hop/

 

Lifeline ku Whistle le Podu (#CoffeeChronicles)

There are a few words in the universe of words that are not merely words or names- they are an emotion. Similar to Mumbai is a city, but Bombay is an emotion. Ahh, I see a few ears tingling and eyes beaming into the screen already. Going by that, COFFEE is…no I am sorry, FILTER CAPI is an emotion. And did I forget to mention, it is of great sentimental value to the whole TamBram community.

You may argue, that I am being ridiculous, or filter coffee does not belong to only Tambrams. But dear trolls, “ekk chutki coffee ki keemat tum kya jano.” (google for meaning)🤘

My rendezvous with FC is not new. I was born with it. Every day of my childhood, I woke up to the aroma of FC at my house. Pleasant memories of FC tumbler in hand and the very horrific episodes when Paati would say, “coffee podi theendhurthu 😱(Coffee powder over)” still ring in my ears. I am not exaggerating, but the love for FC and the proud patent for it is in our veins.

Family is your first teacher and this is where the love for FC is nurtured. Not only do the households brag and dig into it, but every TamBram household maintains a round table conference as to which brand or coffee shop beans are the best. Houses have been destroyed on this. I remember my relatives discussing about a saas-bahu who separated coz the fight started with which coffee is better. As for my maika goes, my Paati was hell-bent on buying only Mysore concerns coffee from Matunga till her last breath. (I am not their advertising or PR agent). At a point in time, this shop started selling their coffee at local outlets in the nearby suburbs. But my Paati would rubbish them saying, they are fake and order my father to buy it only from Matunga. The tradition continues to date with the pandemic mongering on our heads. Now, in my sasural too, they are very particular on the brand of coffee. Wherever they go, whichever house they visit, once they are back home, they have only one point to say – FC was not up to the mark in their house.

TamBrams live and die on FC. Again this isn’t a pun intended statement, I have proof. (wink wink). My Thata lived on 4 tumblers of coffee a day in his last days. If we asked him, “Thata, please eat something. Will you eat some thayir saadam?” His only answer would be “cutting coffee” He liked calling it that way.😁

The world of cinema did not leave a dearth in celebrating TamBram love for FC. Every Tamil movie with a TamBram character has atleast one scene, showing a mama in veshti. On one hand, he will hold the newspaper and in the other a tumbler of FC. Every tamilian will also relate to the famous Narasus coffee dialogue, “besh besh rombo nalla iruku (wow wow very nice it is – literally). (Though my Paati would say -Narasus saata, thala narachidum 🤣- if you drink this coffee, your hair will go grey)

Now, this reminds me of one extremely important component. Again, it is a disputed ingredient to our beloved FC – Chicory. Many believe it thickens the coffee, giving it a strong taste. But some, like in case of my family, chicory is like an unwanted guest. He brings in bags of goodies but is in the wrong place for all the wrong reasons. If at all you suffer from acidity, the whole family will blame this fellow, (I mean this ingredient). If your hair, skin, excreta, anything at all in your anatomy changes colour or odour, you can point your fingers to this culprit.

From blending peaberry with plantation types A, B (they actually sound like blood types), to adding our killer mama (chicory), to carrying a luggage full of capi podi to San Jose – A TamBram has been there, seen that, and done that. So whoever feels that FC is a product of their love, I have only one thing to say to you, “Aap humse hamari zindagi maang lete, hum aapko khushi khushi de dete, par aapne toh humse humhara guroor cheen liya” (Hindi theriyum da, Tamilan da)

Paati: Grandma
Thata: Grandpa
Maika: Parents house
Sasural: In-laws house
Thayir saadam: curd rice
Veshti: mundu
TamBram: Tamil Brahmin

Disclaimer: The write-up is written purely for fun, not intended to hurt anyone. And I am not a TamBram fanatic.

(The little one photobombed , now FC is boiling in anger).

 

Only in my dreams – An ode to my beloved chitappa

You remind me of ice cream cake
The big box of celebration with a rabbit face
Was it a reward or a punishment?
I choose to think of it as an encouragement
Coz you kept smiling and patting my back.

You remind me of the bike keys
The key that I never saw, the bike that I never rode
Still I always heard stories of them, the notorious kid, and the ever patient you
But you kept smiling and carried on.

You remind me of the diamond
The festivities that made the day grand
Maybe you were prosperous, may be you were in debt
I choose to think you were just happy for everything
Coz you kept smiling and danced away the pain.

You remind me of the smoke
The mess that you made
To drown everything around along with you
Still I was hopeful, still you were hopeful
Coz you kept smiling and blew the cigar again.

You remind me of the smell
The touch of the floors, the warmth of the walls
The loneliness of the room, the memory of a home
Still I believe you are as gay and peaceful
Coz you keep smiling and patting my back……in my dreams.