Yeah they were all Yellow!

Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
And everything you do
Yeah they were all yellow

I came along
I wrote a song for you
And all the things you do
And it was called "Yellow" . . .

(Coldplay "Yellow")

This post is part of the Chennai Bloggers Club's CBC VIBGYOR BLOG TAG 2 where some of us will write a post on the colours of VIBGYOR each day starting 1st of May to the 7th of May, 2020.

The colour theme for today's post is Yellow. 

Today was the second day that I went for a long walk in our beautiful campus. Some restrictions were imposed during the earlier weeks on the timings of the regular walks and the radius of distance and all that has been cleared. It was the same campus and same beautiful trees but my eyes lapped them up greedily heady with delight and happiness.

Golden showers scientifically known as Cassia fistula. A flower used for Vishu celebrations in Kerala, locally known as kanikonna

I have always enjoyed my walking time - a time of solitude and campus-bathing with the trees, birds, river Zuari smoothly flowing and the chirpy voices of students and others playing. But today summer has bathed the campus with yellow - it was a golden delight to savour the cassia, copper pods, frangipani and other beautiful flowering trees. These trees sway in the gentle breeze taunting me to capture them and save for posterity. I have lost count of the 'yellow' pictures that I have in my many folders and presently on my phone's gallery. How much we try to steal and save these sights - sometimes I never see them again but social media has given me a nice way of storing them and viewing them time to time.

While the campus is bathed in yellow, the sun also reminds me that it is summer time and alas! we aren't in London to exclaim, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" for that would be the end of any romance. But strangely I also basked in the glory of the evening sun in spite of sweating and panting during the walk.

Yellow has seeped into my being and left me like the lyrics of the Coldplay song,

So then I took my turn

Oh what a thing to have done

And it was all yellow . . .

Please do visit the blogs of Kaushik, Clement, Kumutha and Pratip who are also
participants of the #CBCVIBGYORBLOGTAG2.

Sights of Summer 4: Frangipani/Champa

I cannot decide whether I like the name of this tree or the tree itself! The Frangipani is the common name of Plumeria and the tree is a delight to behold in different seasons of the year. The name evokes sensuousness whenever I pronounce the name - certain words do that, you know. Someone once said that I was a sense-person, referring to my fascination with sounds, touch and smell. Well, I don't know where that person is or what the person is doing but still the words uttered have been etched in my memory (I say a little prayer for you!).

Frangipani is such, it nudges certain settled sediments of memory and stirs the soul and does not hesitate in tagging our fragile senses. The tree is bare during the winter and flowers during the summer months - sometimes there are only flowers in the tree sans leaves and sometimes the entire tree is filled with flowers and leaves. The tree is a treat to my eye sans leaves, flowers as well. The tree emanates a fragrance at night, possibly to attract pollinators (I read this on Wiki).

The tree is a true decorative element wherever it is found (except my wee garden of course, because I just stop with my admiration alone and do not tend to it!) Some objects of beauty are just lovely to behold but not to be taken care of, I reckon and that explains my lackaidaisical attitude in taking care of the Frangipani in my garden.

This is a well loved tree/flower by many artists and beauty-lovers. The flower adorns many a pretty ear in Hawaii or simulators of the Hawaii feel ;) And, it comes in shades of off-white and pink.

It is quite strange that it was once an exotic to India but now it is near-native. Everything thrives in India, you see.

Image: Internet

Sights of Summer 3: Copper Pods/vaagai

These trees are a delight to the weary eye of the summer's heat. The golden hues of this tree almost seem like anointing the sight and place with yellow balm that at once makes you forget the harsh summer sun and the icky feeling of the heat. The tree commonly known as ''Copper pod'' (Peltophorum pterocarpum) is a common avenue tree and also a prominent one on College campuses.

A Copper pod in our College campus which often makes me stand still on my tracks


Often while walking across to a class in another block, I stop, admire the beautiful yellow sitting smug on the green and then resume my walk. Students who are forever surprised by my sudden stops, often find it amusing that a tree can make me linger. If I have the time and whim, I force the student to stand along with me and drink in the delights of this tree which is in its complete glory during the summer months. Like the Indian Laburnum, the yellow of this tree almost drowns you in a golden haze but the yellow of this tree and the Laburnum is slightly of a different hue. While the Laburnum is a gentle yellow, the yellow of the Copper pod is dark and harsh but pleasing.

If one decides to lower one's gaze and scan the ground beneath the tree, a yellow carpet covers the place and it is quite hard for me not to yield to the temptation of sitting down in the carpet under the shade of the gigantic Copper pod!

On idle summer days, I have seen many a weary traveller finding comfort under the shade of this tree by the road and many a lovers finding the yellow carpet a welcome spot from prying eyes and strict teachers. Well, I bet, every Copper pod has many stories stored within its huge trunks!

On that note, I hope you enjoyed the yellow stint with the Pod, Copper Pod of India's summer!

Images: Blogger's own

Sights of Summer 2: Indian Laburnum/konrai/kannikona/amaltas/golden shower tree

Our campus is quite a sight in summer with splashes of golden in the form of Indian Laburnum konrai (in Tamil), scientifically known as Cassia fistuala and another tree which I will discuss in my forthcoming posts. For long, I have been thinking of this particular tree as a resident of Kerala since my amma always used to mention that this flower appears during the time of Vishu, the onset of a new year according to the Malayali calendar. I was reintroduced to the tree when I saw a mention of this tree in the Sangam poems. It did not matter much to me then for I did not then know that the tree my mom mentioned and konrai were one and the same. Years later when I married a man from Kerala, he pointed out the flowers to me and mentioned that its name was kannikona. Then rereading the Sangam poems, I realised the konrai and kannikona  were one and the same. The flowers look beautiful and like the raw mangoes, they bring joy to my mind and senses. They hang in bunches and from a distance one, can see splashes of yellow and some green of the leaves. I find it rather difficult to tear off my eyes from the trees while I spot them during our evening walks in the campus. These trees also dot my College campus and whenever I have to go to the canteen, I slow down my steps so that I can take in the beauty of these golden showers. These are the most photographed trees. I have resisted clicking pictures for I might miss the pleasure the moment has to offer. I therefore will post pictures sourced from the internet.

These trees are also found in large numbers in Goa, Tamil Nadu and Kerala; Wikipedia tells me that this flower is the national flower of Thailand.

The flowers proudly seem to celebrate the colour of summer in their shade and spritely demeanour. They also remind me a lot of the daffodils that can be spotted during summers in England. Yellow is the overlapping factor between the two flowers which are otherwise quite different in terms of the size of the plant and the structure of the flowers.

For your reading pleasure, I share a poem from the Sangam age translated from Tamil by my teacher and mentor Nirmal Selvamony:

Stupid, surely, are those large-stemmed Laburnum trees

that mistook the unseasonal rains

and put out, on their branches, lush, pendulous racemes

even before the monsoon he spoke of

when setting out on stony arid paths.

 (koovattanaar, kuruntokai 66, Sangam ilakkiyam 1: 616)

 

In the short poem, the girl is getting restless waiting for her lover for he promised her that he will be back by monsoon when the Laburnum (konrai, kannikona) is in bloom. The girl sees the flowers bloom before season and is forlorn and lovesick.

So, here I share another sight of summers in Goa/India.

Image 1: Internet
Image 2: Internet

Sights of summer: Raw mango/kairi/mankai/ambuli

Starting today, I plan to embark on a series of posts on the sights of summer, which I hope will revive my writing and blogging. Fingers crossed.

Raw mango is something which is appealing to people across the board and when I spot trees laden with clusters of raw mangoes, I cannot but help lick my tongue with memories of tanginess amalgamated with chilly powder and salt. Yum. ambuli as it's popularly known in Goa is a hot (excuse the pun!) favourite among many. While engaging my students in NSS activity, a group of students suddenly disappear and after a tiresome trial, I spot them throwing stones at the mangoes which call out bewitchingly from the trees situated at a distance from our place of work. That not sufficing, the students take the trouble to go to the canteen and bring small papers which hold a mixture of chilly powder and salt. The thought of it is enough to tantalise my taste buds! Summer time and aiming at raw mangoes hanging on the trees (often unknown people's homes) is almost like a summer stereotype. We have done it, our grandfathers have done it and the children of today do it.

Raw mango has a host of recipes which keep the women and some men busy in this time of the year for soon these raw mangoes will turn into plump yellow things which again are a fantasy for some (not for me, though). And to help the mango flowers to blossom, there are the mango showers or rain in summer which signals the onset of a mixture of memories. And, of course the yummy pickles with a riot of colour, taste and spices - an eternal summertime memory.


During the time, raw mangoes dot the landscape, the summer is not yet in its harsh and cruel state - it is still bearable and in spite of the sweat, the evenings are cool and soothing.

I wonder if you have ever had raw mango slices with chilly powder and salt. Do try and I can guarantee that your taste buds will tingle with delight and shock.

Image 1: Internet
Image 2: Internet

Summer days and pepsicolas

Summer is like the post-coital feeling - not everyone takes to it after the lovely splash of spring and the bygone chilly days. Though the post-coital session evokes warmth and a sense of fulfilment, it cannot compare to coitus itself. Period. The sweat and the addendum to it makes it a tad difficult for me but then there are some bright spots (literally and metaphorically) to summer. The appearance of water/musk melons, pepsi-colas and other summery delights alleviate the problem of post-spring/winter melancholia partially. Summer also signals the end of the semester and examination blues. I thought after becoming a teacher, I would be free from the end-of-term low tide but looks like the end always comes with a sting of boredom, a sense of forlornness and loneliness of having to bid adieu to a set of students with whom the year was spend in wanton abandon, endless gossip, conniving moments and of course some lessons. I will miss them and that feeling makes me a bit morose.

The beach which beckons during warm summer evenings is a welcome relief

The weather is synonymous with my mood and talk. It reflects on my actions and words. Though I try to avoid wearing the weather on me, I seldom succeed. All and sundry realise or eventually come to know of my disdain for summer which is quite conspicuous through my behaviour. I yearn for the sunniness to pass - give way to cool monsoons and sweat-free bodies. And yes, the summer also brings the smell - full throttle! Sweat from the body sans any deo which is feral and raw and often overpowering. I am someone who has heightened olfactory system which oft works against me, conspiring to outdo the summer's already raw nerve.


But summers also bring along the promise of a monsoon which is just two months away and without a summer, there is no relief of the rain. So, I rest my case and await the monsoon eventhough I know that it will be a long wait. Waiting is a way of life in India, you see. I am not complaining.

Image courtesy: Blogger's own picture

Changing seasons, moods and memories

I have finally discovered that it is possible to let go of memories -- to stop wallowing in them whenever an opportunity presents itself in the form of a song, a film, a smell and so on. Quite often when a particular song is played on the radio or television, the trick is to hum along without any thought of the past. I have started following this technique by listening to the song only as a song that I enjoy listening to rather than thinking of people, situations and emotions. It is easier said than done but not quite difficult. The human mind is capable of adapting itself and when an individual decides to consciously shut off memories, it is possible. With practice and determination, it is not an invincible exercise.

I also discovered that memories and seasons are linked inextricably. Changes in seasons bring about changes in moods and associated emotions. Though summer reminds one of long and languid vacations spent idly dreaming of school and friends, the constant perspiration wipes off all beautiful memories forcing one to stay focussed on the present. While a visit to Chennai in October evoked tender emotions writ large with yearning for one's home, the present visit makes me want to run away from Chennai. Whenever I sweat, I also emit the emotions that made me dislike this city in the first place. It is but natural that as I emit negative emotions, I purge myself but in this particular state, the more I emit, the more I grow irritable and morose. The city love has given way to city loathe, which is almsot like wanting to escape the boundaries set by parents to a life of freedom, only to realise that the freedome one so earnestly craved for was better off being explored within boundaries. Well, for now, I want to run away from Chennai but knowing fully well that in October, I will change my tune.

That said and done, there are some sights and sounds that seasons cannot fade. For example, the jacaranda and canna blooms that line the Mount Road are a treat that presents itself only during the summer months and so are the green-red water melons stretches that dot the road sides. The usual balmy morning and evening summer breeze, the clear blue skies and the summer goodies like buttermilk, vathal, kirni pazham are delights that make this time pleasant and lovely.

Coming back to memories, I think that they burden the self and rob the joy from the present. Limited doses at specific times is permissible but living with them is hazardous, I reckon.

Do your moods alter with changing seasons? 

An ode to the paneer soda

After reading the summer post here, I was tempted to write something about my summer memories and also pay tribute to a drink that was completely washed away by the coming of Coca Cola and Pepsi. As teenagers, summer was special because it meant holidays among other things. On the last day of school, we would be eagerly awaiting the last exam's completion so that we could treat ourselves to a drink of Paneer soda and some candies. The name 'paneer' can be roughly translated as sweet. The drink comes in a bottle which has a ball in the mouth and one has to pop the ball to drink the sweet soda. For a sum of 75 paise, we could get a bottle of that soda. Along with that soda, we bought some cocoa toffees for Rs. 2 and that was our special treat.

The soda was a symbol of eternal joy for us as it meant the last day of our exam and also meeting our friends. Sometimes, if we had more money to spare, we would indulge ourselves and buy two bottles. We didn't have many choices of drinks those days. We could opt for a Paneer soda or Rose milk. We mostly preferred the soda as it was cool, sweet and also was slightly aerated. As we entered College, the drink slowly started fading away. The giant MNCs Coke and Pepsi entered the market, slowly wiping away the humble Paneer soda. There followed a complete colonisation of all local drinks like Paneer soda, Kalimark Bovonto and others.

Paneer soda (Can you see the ball in the mouth of the bottle?)

Paneer soda was something local and hence one could find it in every place -- even the smallest of the shops had Paneer soda and it was available for a very cheap price. One did not have to plan to buy a paneer soda. You felt like having some, you immediately bought it. The small treats changed big time after Coke made an entry. One had to have enough money if the treat was to include Coke and Pepsi. By the time we completed our under-graduation, there was no sign of Paneer sodas anywhere in Chennai.

Surprise of surprises!!! When I came to the place where I am presently staying, I was pleasantly surprised to see that Paneer soda still existed here. Last week, I bought a bottle and heartily consumed it while simultaneously thinking of past summers, sticky hands and cocoa toffees. Breathless,  I also took some time out to narrate my experience to the shop-keeper who was quite sure that I was some being that was delirious and slightly soft in the head.

So, what are your vivid memories of past summers that you cannot seem to enjoy in the present.

Image: Internet

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

Nooooooooooooo. Whenever I listen or read this line from Shakespeare, it evokes lovely images in my mindscape but then all of a sudden there is a jerk . . . I BECOME AWARE OF THE ACUTE HEAT and reality dawns on me. Lovers all over the world read out these lines to their beloved but when in India, I guess this will/does not hold good. Summers in India, especially in Chennai are hot, sweaty, dusty and cruel. The heat gives one the feeling of melting away eternally. The water-melons, musk-melons are all lined up in the market-places with people buying them to alleviate their heat. Umbrellas, caps, shades and cottons are out on the streets in full glory.

Shakespeare talks of the summers in England where it is lovely with a gentle breeze to soothe the soul. And so he is justified when he compares his beloved to a summer's day with golden hue and all but imagining a love-struck individual in Chennai comparing his/her beloved to a summer's day would invite some suspicion. The beloved in question would immediately think of the sweat, heat, dust and dryness and the lover would be dismissed with a curt glance and bitter phrases.

When I read of winters and snow in Jenean's and Zuzana's blogs, I wonder about the difference that is prevalent. There they are wondering about spring and the sun while I have already started complaining about the heat and sweat. When bloggers post pictures of snow, I can't help but feel a wee bit jealous but when they talk of the gloom, traffic snags and lost connectivity, I revise my thoughts. It is a well-known joke that in Chennai there are only three seasons: Hot, Hotter and Hottest!

Probably "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" was written for lovers in a particular geographical location in spite of Mr. Shakespeare being universally celebrated. Dear readers, summer is here in my part of the world and it is not very nice.

Sonnet 18


~ William Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate;
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.