www.welcometokerala.com/Part-I

NOTE: All the writing in red are the thoughts that were going on in my head.

I was done. I was finally done with the dreaded 10th standard board exams and was having a great summer. Like always we were making our usual holy pilgrimage to Kerala to meet ALL my relatives. Now usually these trips only meant one thing for me. Endless hours of TV and talking to random strangers. I love socializing but my idea of socializing is NOT talking about my aunt’s husband’s sister’s father-in-law’s sister’s husband’s second cousin’s daughter’s divorce. I love my family, but hey, there’s always a line! I have this major love-hate relationship going on with that state. Every time I hate it my mom tries to remind me that I have no place of my own (thanks to my dad’s never-ending transfers) as a retort to my hating “her” state.
Kerala is pretty. Granted. It’s also God’s Own Country, though lately it’s been going a little downhill with that. But anyway, it’s a whole different world out there. And when you live your entire life in various states in India except for Kerala, it can get a little tough.
So this summer, I was pulling along my two best friends Mihika and Namrata to introduce them to MY lovely state. A day before the trip all three of us were packing in our own respective homes and constantly calling each other to ask the stupidest of things in our high shrill super excited voice. My mom completed the picture by going into a complete frenzy in the background.
I was excited for the first time after years to go to Kerala. As a kid, I used to love going to there. My dad’s mom has a big two-storey bunglow in Trichur and every summer, us cousins would meet up there. Then onwards the days were complete fun. It was a fixed schedule. We had a set of things we always did. It was somewhat of a tradition. Play football. Play cricket. Play any possible sport. Play “let’s break the pots to annoy the maid!” Watch the maid lose her head. Watch grandma lose her head on the maid for losing her head on us. Eat food. Break more pots. Watch crappy TV serials and laugh your head off. Watch the hygiene conscious cousins’ fight to go have a shower first and then all of sudden watch all of them bail on the shower. Call the jukebox and fight over which song to play and then finally play a song nobody likes. And if not this, I’d crash at my grandma’s place and wait for my cousin, Sreedu to come. Some of the best days ever.
But then, it happened. Something that happens in every house. People grow up, people get jobs, people move on. Being the youngest in the family, I was half-deprived of a happy summer vacation. So lately, like I said before, trips to Kerala meant hours of TV and socializing with strangers. But this summer, things would be different.
So a week before the trip I called Namrata up. “Dude. This summer is going to be epic.” “I know right?” “Alright. Listen, I have a plan. The three of us, are going to wear shorts, sunglasses and crocs to the airport.” “……..Naiceeee!” “Right? Right? Ok, I need to tell Mihika. Bye.”
I did tell Mihika the plan but the only thing I got in response was a look that said ‘….dude. seriously?’ You should know, Mihika is not the kind of person who gets involved in juvenile behaviour . Well, not always. As in, she has a monthly quota. Once the quota is over she becomes a calm and composed mature adult.
Moving on, finally the much awaited morning had finally arrived. Namrata’s dad and mom along with Mihika’s mom and dad came over to drop their two little annoying creepy kids off at our place. I open the door and I see Namrata in shorts, sunglasses and shoes. “ I don’t have crocs.” “I figured.” I looked behind her shoulder and there was Mihika. In shorts. I was happy.
In a few minutes time we were to drive to Mumbai and take a flight from there to Cochin. We were all dragging our bags out of my house when Namrata dropped her sunglasses. “Don’t step on it!” *CRACK*
“Duude….”.
“Oh crap.” “Namrata!” Moaned Megha aunty from behind. “I didn’t see it ok!” Mihika starts snorting from behind.
“Dude we didn’t even get to the airport! What the hell Namrata!”
“I didn’t see it!”
“Ah, chuck let’s just take the bags out.”
So there we were. Namrata stepped on her sunglasses and Mihika refused to wear hers. I was not so happy anymore.
We slowly loaded all the bags while both parents kept on repeating their set of instructions over and over again. Namrata just kept smiling and listening while Mihika just looked bored which made Anjali aunty stress on each point even more. FINALLY, we left.
After getting constantly harassed by a song from the movie “Prince” while Namrata and Mihika laughed at my god forsaken luck we reached Mumbai. As soon as we entered the airport we attacked Landmark, the bookstore, almost lost my boarding ticket at another bookstore and watched Namrata spill her cold coffee and then pretend as if she didn’t do it. An hour later we proceeded to the gate.
In the next couple of hours we boarded the flight, ruined the rest of the passengers’ flight with our constant howling, we exited the flight. I got out of the aircraft and was welcomed by hot, humid air. This was going to be one sweaty trip. “I’m home.” I said, looking at Namrata and Mihika. Mihika gave me a glance and turned away while Namrata answered with a single syllable-Dude.
“Too dramatic?” “uh huh.” “Alright.”
After waiting for our long lost taxi driver to arrive we all got into this Red Sumo. Calling dibs on the last seat we all ran in, and took our spots. “First we drop achamma off and then we go home. Ok?” my mom looked back and said. Home. The word made me a little uncomfortable. My mom’s mom place. Home. My mom’s mom. Crap.
My mother’s mother is a rare specimen. You cannot tell what she’ll do when and this has caused us a lot of embarrassment. I was bringing my two friends home for the first time. Naturally, I was nervous. In front of their completely normal grandparents, I was scared to bring in my not-so-normal grandmother. I remember a month before our trip I was talking to my sister Sreedu. “Do you think you can make her NOT ask my friends any riddles or crack jokes?” “She didn’t spare the dean of my college. What makes you think she’s going to spare your friends?”Yes, I was dreading the encounter between my friends and my maternal grandmother.
So after a lot of pit stops we finally reached my mother’s childhood home. My mother was exuberant. I was taking the bags out of the trunk when I saw a figure at the backdoor of the house. Hair in a bun, Harry Potter glasses on, an apron tied to her, she stood with one hand against one side of the wall, leaning towards the same wall and the other on her waist. She reminded me of a 90s villain. “Yen di.” She said, a popular phrase people use in TamilNadu. Oh dear god. I cried in my head. I looked at my friends. They were too busy unloading the bags so I figured they didn’t hear. Crisis averted. I turned and continued with the unloading.
After the welcoming hugs and the mother-daughter reunion, we all got inside.
“Do you know what my name is?” Oh god. Oh god. Oh no. Not already!
Mihika looked at me, a little taken aback but still replied to my grandmother. “Noo..”
“I’ll give you a clue. Years ago, Raja Ram Mohan Roy drove me out of this country.”
Namrata: “Ah…. *nervous laugh*”
Mihika: “What?”
Kill me. Kill me. Someone please kill me.
“Do you want another clue?”
*Does an imitation of Lord Shiva*
I’m his wife.
Namrata: “*continues with nervous laugh*…. Ok.”Mihika: *stares disbelievingly*
Is there a knife somewhere in here? Anything?! At least a Swiss knife?
Still don’t know? I’m Sati.
Both of them: Oh…
“In 19…”
“Amma let them unpack. We have to go out in the evening.”
My mom to my rescue (and in some small way to her own rescue too). I looked down and walked straight into our room.
“Is she always this…?”
“Uh huh.Let’s just unpack.”
“No, I just..”
“UN.PACK.NOW.”
“ok…”
4 hours. Within 4 hours time I had to deal with my first crisis.
But things would change. Tomorrow Sreedu and Valiyamma will be here. And then, we’ll actually have a control over things. But till then, the only thing going on in my mind is- strike one, hating Kerala.