I have been away for a long time from here. My three avid readers ( that includes me too. When politicians and television channels want more numbers, so do I!) expressed concern on my absence from the blog arena. I am very sorry to say that my funny bone has gone missing and I am getting all philosophical and serious things to write about(which will lead to a drop in the reader count from 3).
So as far as my lie post previously is concerned I was lying to my boss that day that is why the post!
Now for some light on the recent happenings. I was home after a long time of 7.5 months! The journey home was quite exciting. Starting with all auspicious sign of good looking air hostesses on board( We joked with each other on emergency exits! Pathetic I know!) and a pleasant journey I landed on home turf.
The plan was set. I had not informed folks at home of my arrival. SO much so that even I didn’t know I was going to be there two days prior to D-day. It was a sudden plan on a whim. Well, anyways , I was on a team meet after lunch on that day (That was a lie to avoid the surprise being revealed to home. Had they known my team they would never have bought that story!). I was ‘on lunch’ when I was about to board.
Coimbatore was breezy, it being the tamil month of aadi. The Oh so familiar auto karargal and all. I was like this dumb actress who had come from the north trying to get out meaningful verses of a song in tamil. After confusing myself and asking me several times what language I was speaking I finally told him the destination: home. In India everybody loves to bargain. Aaah! It was refreshing to bargain in tamil after a long time. I bargained for a cheap 20 Rupees ( In spite of the auto man’s well known “it is late night. I have to return empty” etc.). The auto ride was the real “pinch on my skin- it is not a dream” for me. The smell of diesel smoke mixed with passing scent of fresh jasmine flowers, with cooking idlis over taking them along with the aroma of Sambhar! It all hit me like a ton of bricks, “Yes I am finally here.”
The rest is history as you can imagine in frozen frames on a 70 mm screen. Me ringing the bell. The door opening in slow motion. Viewers writhing in their seats to know what happens next in vain. Children watching with bated breath. Absolute silence in the theatre. Door opening. The audience rapt in attention. Women holding on to the edge of their seats. The nervous ones going at their nails. Door opens. “Surprise” echoes.
