Memorie da Italia

Handing over a box of chocolate and exchanging a warm hug, Ajji said “Arrivederci, tutto il meglio. Ritonare in Italia” I replied back saying “Ajji, Banni namma India ge” for which she promptly smiled and told “Si Si, Io amo l'India”. 

This was a heartfelt conversation between us without understanding what either spoke, until I made an effort to type it out on translator to find the meaning of those words of the wonderful Italian lady. “Ajji” means grandma in Kannada, this was how I addressed this beautiful elderly Italian lady. She and her family managed the hotel which was my abode all through my vacation in Italy.

I had accepted to all the terms and conditions such as no chance of going out in the evening, no cribbing about being bored at hotel, no pinging hubby at work as this was a hectic onsite assignment for him. But who cares! It is ITALY, my dream destination! So I instantly accepted all these for Italy and here I was in Pescara. Pescara is a silent, small and beautiful Italian country side which had one good hotel - Hotel Dragonara. The hotel was managed by a family, of this Old lady, whom I called “Ajji”. 

My Italian vacation had started and I had plans to walk around Pescara to enjoy the snow clad mountains on one side and calm seas on the other. What could be more fun than to explore the roads less taken in this small Italian town? Cuddling in my warm Jacket, as I stepped out of the hotel, an old lady peeped out from kitchen and shouted “tenere al caldo,divertirsi, godere”.  I was very confused and wondered if something was wrong. Sensing my confused state, she smiled waving her hand.  Assuming that to be a good bye message I continued on my exploration.  On return I decided to meet and ask her name. She just blushed saying “No inglese”. I was again left with no option other than to smile back to her and return to my room.

The whole episode of this beautiful old lady being so friendly and nice, pushed me to recollect all those words which I later translated on net and there I was very touched. As I had started out, she had told me “Keep warm, have fun, enjoy” and when I had asked her name she had replied “No English” meaning she didn’t understand English. I couldn’t stop admiring the way some people treat their guests without any inhibitions. At that very moment the notion of language and its importance was washed away as I realized in order to build relationship, to be friendly, to express warmth and care, we only need the willingness to do so and not proficiency in language. 

From that day onwards, it became my routine to speak to her. She spoke to me endlessly in Italian at times pointing to the plants and sometimes pointing to her grand children. I understood that it was probably to do with all the things she pointed and kept responding to her in Kannada, which is my mother tongue. It hardly made any difference to her whether I spoke in English or Kannada, but it gave me great satisfaction of speaking in my mother tongue in a foreign land.  I tried asking her name in broken Italian words picked up from Internet but hardly could I understand her fast flowing Italian and so I could not get her name all through my stay there.  It hardly mattered as I loved to address her as “Ajji”(Grandma), which she never understood anyway. 

The day I checked out of the hotel, Ajji came to me, handing over a box of chocolate hugged me tight and told me “Goodbye, All the best. Come back to Italy” for which I replied “Ajji, come to India”. As she understood only the word “India”, she replied “Yes Yes, I Love India”. Somehow, finally the conversation did have some meaning which was only understood much later. 

When I had boarded the flight to Italy, I assumed that on my return, if someone mentions the country Italy to me, I will be remembering magnificent Coloseum or enchanting Pantheon or beautiful Trevi or may be romantic Venice. Surprisingly, even today before all these flashes in my mind, I remember the warm hug, care and love of my host, Ajji.

I boarded the flight back to India holding that box of chocolate which according to me was the Memorie da Italia for it held all the priceless memories of our Italian – Kannada conversations, her care and her beautiful smile.

I understood that any place is memorable more for the experiences there than for what it is actually known. So folks, next time on your vacation be open for such experience which will remain with you forever because the best things will surely not be mentioned in your itinerary.

PS:  Hi, will be away to make more such memories ;). So wait for me to come back from vacation and bore you again with my stories :D.

Oh Dear, I did not know that it was just a cage….

His hand shivered as he wrote this letter, he knew it was his last letter to her or to anyone for that matter. His heart cramped every time he breathe, how would it not? She was his breathe which now was lost forever. He wrote and wrote, he had no intention of meaning anything but he wanted to tell out everything that he felt for one last time. He had dreams for her, had loved her immensely. Nothing of that had mattered to her; everything seemed so little to her that she did not bother once about letting all the hopes go and shattering all his dreams.

He took those last few steps, he never wanted to do this but the emotions so strong had pulled him back there. He dropped dead beside her grave, he cried and cried until the tears refused to drop from his eyes but he was ready to bleed for her. His daughter, the girl who was goddess for him, his precious love who had taught him what selfless love meant had done the unthinkable, she had quit for no reason. He would have done anything for her but all he was doing today was placing this letter on her grave, hoping it to be read and to be answered.  As he left smiling at his stupidity, harsh wind blew and the letter flipped open,

“Oh Dear, I saw it as a little shelter where you got all that you wanted. For it took the harsh wind and the burning flames, it did protect you from the cruel eyes.

Oh Dear, I thought it was my soul which I gave you, I hugged you dearly as I thought you need all the warmth, you were my music, you were my life, and were you all that only to make me cry?

Oh Dear, It once hosted you, held you dearly, bled for you, lived for you. But all you did was to give up and break free. How did you not see, thing that held you for all these days and which you broke mercilessly, was my heart. Oh how I did not know it was just a cage for you! Now I know I am to be blamed for I am responsible for the broken cage”

The letter which would never be read, lay there with no one to pick it up….

P.S: A very heart touching incident of young girl who quit on her life, left me deeply thinking about her parents, especially her father who loved her deeply.
Please help spread the message "life is very very  precious, live it fully !!!"

Making money !!!

Statuary warning: Cigarette/Beedi Smoking is injurious to pocket and this definitely is not finance related post!

Now continue!

Earning money and Making money any difference??? Don’t tell me its grammatically incorrect, who cares about grammar in my blog anyways!!! As per my own “Oxford” English vocab, “Earning” is something a poor soul does in usual lawful ways where as “Making Money” is something what you will find out after you finish reading this blog.

Folks, to explain this “Making Money” Phenomenon, I have created “Mr. Subrahmani”(My Fictional Hero), sorry name is spelt like this “Mr. SubrahMONEY”. And here is his chronicle. 

Let’s go back to 80’s, One evening our SubrahMONEY and his Brother in law(BIL) were in a theater watching a movie. SubrahMONEY was feeling very restless; 3hrs wasting without making money was very disturbing. Just then an idea struck, he informed BIL that he will be back in 10min, unaware of what was happening BIL continued to watch the movie. Within no time SubrahMONEY comes back to his seat and continues to enjoy the movie. As the movie progressed there came the classic “Cigarette Song”, just in case you don’t know these legends of Indian cinema, these are most unwanted, totally untimely, not so catchy song all of a sudden in the movie which are typical “Smoke” break for the audience who want to refill some fresh nicotine in to their blood without missing out on story line. 

Now as this Cigarette song came along, BIL got up for a puff and invited SubrahMONEY, being a very nice person that he is, he said “Arrey, why do you want to go out? I have a Beedi right here with me, you can smoke it here and you should really not miss the movie now”. Impressed by such a good gesture our innocent BIL settled down in his seat enjoying the “Jumjum thanana Jumjum thanana” Cigarette song and exhaled all the smoke. 

In a jiffy there stood 2 policemen, holding BIL by his collar and asking him how he could smoke in theater. They instantly asked him to come to police station with them or to pay 150rs fine (ufff 150rs in 80’s was like 1000s). On seeing terrified BIL, our hero SubrahMONEY came in to picture, he asked BIL to give only 50rs to him so that he will go out of the hall and then convince them. Handing over 50rs, BIL settled in his seat praying that he will be forgiven at rupees 50.

SubrahMONEY comes out of the hall very irritated, he gives 10rs each and scolds “When did you both join? I am seeing for the first time! Where is our Bujangram? He was very good, every time I fixed someone in this case Bujangram asked nothing less than 250rs!!! You guys should get properly trained before coming on field duty, I will give only 10 this time!”

After settling the case SubrahMONEY comes back to seat and tells his BIL that he could convince them only for 100 and so he had to pay 50 more to send them off. On hearing this, BIL with full respect thanked our SubrahMONEY for saving him and gave back the balance 50rs! 

3hrs movie in BIL's money + 80rs pocketed at the cost of one beedi. Now shall we term this as MAKING Money?

An excerpt from my travel diary

As I flipped my travel entries of Ladakh, I stopped by an entry of an incident which had left me very touched. I realized I had a story to share with you all.

Apart from the mesmerizing Changla mountain range and vast Pangong Lake, my most memorable thing in Ladakh will be a small monastery and a little kid.

That day on our itinerary was a wonderful Monastery on top of a beautiful hill, which is known for its rich colorful culture and heritage. We were totally exhausted as me and hubs had trekked up to to reach our destination. Wonderful aroma of tea from the small Tea stall which was in the entrance of this monastery was the first thing we wanted to visit. We sat there sipping warm tea and wading away the exhaustion, There came a cute little boy clad in the robes of Buddhist monk. 

I was lost observing the innocence of that little boy who must be of age around 4 or 5. He came up to the stall asking for a pack of chips and the vendor bowed to him giving what the kid wanted.  I was so much in love with this kid and his innocence that I wanted to hold him and also take a picture with him. As I moved closer to the kid to talk to him, suddenly all the Monks who were around came running and stopped me from getting any closer to him. They instantly bowed to this little monk, discussed something among themselves in Ladakhi and took him away with them. I had no idea of what wrong I had done, we did speak to many monks on our trip till then and they were quite friendly but this behavior that to with a little kid left me perplexed.

As I settled in the chair and things calmed down, tea vendor hissed to us that the kid whom I wanted to talk was the next Rinpoche, meaning the one who will be the next leader of their community, and he was strictly observed 24hrs. This little kid’s day was only about learning and strictly no interaction with world outside what so ever. May be someday this little kid will be a very great spiritual leader but the loss of his childhood and all the beautiful moments of his innocence, made me realize how precious our life has been.

My eyes were filled with tears when I remembered how the little kid was crying when he was taken back and how everybody else kept bowing to him on his way back. My heart ached at the sight of the chips packet on ground and I could just not hold back my tears.  

P.S: Photo credit goes to the Blog The World Through My Eyes